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#and it’s where all the weirdness and stubbornness and difficulties of her life. her a c t u a l longings her actual fears
itspileofgoodthings · 24 days
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Taylor returning over and over to the falling through the ice accident in the Bolter—everything to me
#like. just. the shock of it all#there’s something about Taylor where her experience of life is so ….. brutal#like I don’t know how else to say it but it just is. life is not easy on her it is always ready to CLOBBER her#and in a way she’s not easy on life. there’s some kind of magnets/opposite poles stuff where she’s just always drawn to the worst things#to feeling them and experiencing them and almost ??? creating them#like I don’t mean to overstate it. and I know she has a family who loves her (thank GOD)#and also she’s very practical and industrious about creating this very Instagram worthy life full of Fine Things and a Fun Time#and of course all the resources in the world at her disposal to create all the trappings of it#whether it’s a celebrity Fourth of July party or the eras tour#and she’ll do it and love it. but as all the best critics know and point out the most fascinating thing about Taylor is always the music#and it’s where all the weirdness and stubbornness and difficulties of her life. her a c t u a l longings her actual fears#her actual terrible awful experiences that she charges headlong down the paths of#is set free! and it’s breathtaking in the most shocking way#like falling through the ice! I always say the first thing that always hits me about a Taylor album is the bitterness#just this blast in the face. and her music is so gentle! in so many ways#and the packaging is so appealing and her voice is so soft and expressive and there is none of that weird experimentation#even musically (remember when she shut down imogen heap for putting a minor chord in clean she was like absolutely not. I’m obsessed)#(with that moment forever)#but like. so much of Taylor’s packaging and life and HER really does SEEM so basic or ordinary or just rich girl ordinary I guess#she likes basic things and wants basic things. but also she is so hungry so restless so angry so wounded the rich internal life is CHURNING#all the time. every second. and it’s spectacular to watch and also I will worry about her until the day I die#or just—-I don’t know. it’s going to be spectacular and it is sometimes going to be awful#but she will keep furiously writing her way through it!!#there IS such a woundedness to her. and it makes me love her so much because it’s packaged in such a way people think it must just be#whining or privilege. but it’s not! it’s just. the human condition and Taylor’s own flaws#okay I’ve lost the plot here a bit in my ramblings but yeah the ice metaphor. insanely perfect
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juria9090 · 2 years
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Danny Phantom but make it more angst and fluffy. My style.
I headcanon that Maddie Fenton major in biology and chemistry. Her fixation is more on studying how things work. Jack Fenton lean more towards bio-engineering, chemical-engeneering and mechanical. His fixation focus more on creating things.
We all know the Fentons are the real genius guys. I mean look at their freaking invention. Look at that house. Jack once pulled the whole house into another dimension. We know that Jack Fenton-Nightingle is clearly Jack's own ancestor so the supernatural fixation have always been in the family. The Fenton family are actually BIG. They are just scattered all ACROSS the world. Some of them cannot be detected under the radar. The Fenton family IS weird.
Each branch of family have their own type of fixation especially supernatural. since Jack and Maddie never really applied safety measures in their labs, i present this to you, both parents have difficulty on having a child. Yes, Maddie does have miscarriage. A couple of them.
They work with nearly all sort of chemicals and things. Maddie is not good at just sitting around and doing nothing. After a couple of times trying, they decided to take a long break from researching and their works. The Fentons are actually freaking rich. They just like to hide it. Only uses it when they need to. They loves recycling actually.
They get a miracle where i finally have a child. Jazz. The pregnancy went surprisingly easy. Jazz is a healthy child. They are overjoyed of this. But we all know it will never last long. Jack and Maddie loves their work more so after having Jazz, they continue their works and research.
Jazz only managed to get her parents attention when she is shown as a genius child. Both of them are very proud of her. The Fenton household is always kept sterile and clean. 4 years later, Danny enters their life.
But it all went down there. Danny is born premature and because Maddie ignores all the advice from the doctor and do not apply any of them during pregnancy, Danny came out into the world very sick and nearly died. During Maddie's pregnancy, he is exposed to the chemicals and hazardous things frequently. Maddie neglected to care for her own health when she is pregnant with Danny. Jack do try to tell her to take it easy but she is STUBBORN.
Danny is diagnosed with asthma, weak heart and weak immune systems. To top of it all, he is iron deficiency anemic. His eyesight is not good. He is born premature with nutritional deficiencies. He nearly went blind.
Both Fenton parents blame themselves for Danny's condition and tried to do their best. They focus on their kids for a little while. Its been a good 5 years but in the end both of them went down quickly with the habit of neglecting their children wellbeing. Jazz is extremely protective and POSSESSIVE of her brother. Its quite lonely when you are the only genius child and without company of your parents. Adults may think she is bright but children can be cruel. She is so happy when she got Danny as her little brother.
She do not like to share him at all. Wherever Danny is, she is always with him. She likes to carry Danny around. She does not like it when her parents neglected Danny. She grew up matyyre quickly and become the adult he needed in his life.
When they move to Amity park and Danny became friend with Tucker, she was heartbroken and think that Danny will replace her and leave her. She resented Tucker for a little while but grew to love Tucker as another little brother when she saw how caring he is towards her brother. She became interested in psychology when she reads some books and novels. She is afraid for Danny.
Dash enters their life and she is a little hesistant about it. She watches Dash always with how he treat her little brothers. Needless to say when the kid decided Danny and Tucker are not worthy friends, she became angry. She once saw Dash push Danny down from a flight of stairs, she made sure that Dash got grounded for three months and every punishment he gets is what she suggested to the parents of Dash.
She can be very cruel when she want to. Danny's health do not improve from all the neglect. She hates it when their parents give him task and job in the labs. She hates how her parents treat him. When Danny is 14, she is 18 and in collage. She have asked Tucker for a favor to keep an eye on Danny and to always take care of him when she is not there. Tucker takes it with a big heart and he does it seriously.
He may appear like a coward but once Danny is involve, he is ready to throw hands and kick asses. Danny do not frequently appears in school because he frequently gets sick. Once, he got sick for a whole 3 weeks. He have to stay with the Foley's to monitor his health.
When Sam became friends with them, Tucker is neutral around her. Danny is a loveable dork but Tucker do not like Sam's hypocrisy. Tucker is a flirt yes, but he doesn't really focus on the girls. He focus on Danny. He will be damn if something ever happened to his best friend and brother.
Headcanon : Danny is the smallest of the group. He stood 4'10, tucker, 5'4 and sam 5'2 ft. Jazz is 5'7.
The accident happen and you guys think it will improve Danny's health? Hah! No. It makes it more worse. His heart condition became worse, he is nearly subscribe with a pacemaker. He went completely blind. One of his ears went deaf. Its truly a miracle his asthma did not became worse.
He spents 6 months in hospital. He needs to learn how to walk again. Sadly, he is permanently walking limply. He needs crutches to help him walk. Sam blames herself for it. danny did not transform into phantom when he came out from the portal so his friends did not know. He discovered it during his stay at the hospital. The staffs of the hospital discovered it and kept it a secret from the parents.
Tucker did not talk to Sam for a whole 4 month after the portal incident. Jazz was devastated of the news of her brother's current state and blame her parents. Her hatreds of them grew more. The Fenton parents were floored and excited when they discovered the portal the work hard on is working but immediately blown off when they find out about the consequences of their actions. History repeating itself.
Maddie and Jack vowed to focus more on their children especially Danny right away. They did it. They discovered that Danny is a halfa on an accident when they visited him with Jazz. Danny was afraid of them and their reactions and it causes them more guilt and hatreds towards themselves. They make a promise to Danny to never abandoned him.
The Fenton children and Parents became much more closer 6 months after the incident. Fenton parents are researching more on how Danny's body working and how to help him. Jazz finally gets the happy family she desired. It may not be perfect but their parents are trying their best to be there for their children.
The Fenton parents are famous for a lot of inventions. They build other things other than the one that have to do with ghost.
The lunch lady attack happen, Tucker and Sam did make up for a bit and have run away to hide Danny first away from the attack. Sam's body us build and athletic as well as physically more stronger than Tucker. She is the one who ends up carrying both boys in her arms. The Fenton parents arrive and dealt with lunch ladies with ease.
Maddie and Jack improve their skills and prowess in martial arts to protect their children. Their invention works perfectly and able to neutralise Lunch Lady. They do not attack first but did try to debate it with her. She is neutralise after they made a promise to have a talk with the one that change the menu.
Honestly, they get the job done like a true professional. Once the ghost is gone, they search for their son and his friends. Their first priority is their son, Danny. They find him hiding with his friends behind the gym's bleachers. They told him what happened and he became awed with them. News spread and Jazz got a hold of it. She is very proud of them.
Danny's ghost sense did not came out like a whisp from his mouth. It sent a signal to his body and make him shiver. His hearing became deaf to only the sound of the ghost. He can feel their presence.
Danny, have an outfit specifically made for him to go out as Phantom. He usually stays away from overseeing eyes and invisible. He likes to came out at night to see the stars.
You may think his obsession came out as protection and all that or maybe space but nah. Its discovery of unknown world baby.
Might continue this later...
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kingsleyer · 2 years
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psychology + mental health deep dive
general mental health related trigger warnings apply.  feel free to include more or exclude those facts / test results that take too much time or don’t apply, you can check out this list for more personality-related quizzes to include!
quick facts
diagnoses: hyper-independence. triggers: no known triggers. positive coping skills: meditation, physical activity ( training ), managing work related tasks, information seeking, acknowledges death, manages stress & faces stressful situations head on, healthy eating & sleeping habits. negative coping skills: excessive physical activity, strict adherence to schedules, rigid moral code, social isolation, hostile verbiage, manipulating others, stubbornness/inflexibility, violent outbursts. attachment style: dismissive/avoidant. love language:  acts of service. myers briggs / mbti:  ISTJ-A. the Logistician: “In their families and their communities, Logisticians often earn respect for their reliability, their practicality, and their ability to stay grounded and logical, even in the most stressful situations. In a world where many people shirk their responsibilities or say what they think others want to hear, Logisticians stand out as dedicated, responsible, and honest.“
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history exploration
are their diagnoses formal ( via a doctor, therapist, etc. ) or informal ( self diagnosis, a hunch, unrealized, etc. )
informal, self diagnosis.
have they ever been treated / medicated?
no.
have they ever been hospitalized or treated on an inpatient basis?
no.
how old were they when they first started experiencing / realizing symptoms?
recognized her own issues (as well as others) from a very early age.
do they have a family history of mental illness?
outside of her brother’s trauma response, unclear. olivier has seen & has her own theories of each person however has never voiced any of them & likely never will.
how was mental health handled / discussed in the family?
never, discussed or outwardly handled.
what are their thoughts on mental health / their diagnosis?
she is very weird because she recognize mental illness as illness. just like physical disease or injury, mental illness can be a disease or injury related to the brain/emotional processes. but, she also sees any sort of outward show of mental illness as a sign of weakness if it interferes with your duties or work. see: the alex disgrace. she does not set the same expectations on every person, however if a person is not fit to fulfill their responsibilities in whatever capacity they hold (a parent, a teacher, a solider, etc..) then she would consider them weak.
in what ways has their diagnosis shaped their life or experiences?
olivier developed her hyper-independence from a young age, which shaped how she developed & moved through relationships in adolescence & adulthood. being at fort briggs would only solidify the ways in which she already moved through the world, if not increasing her percieved need for & exhibition of hyper-independence. 
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symptoms
bold all that are present, italicize those that are resolved or in the history.
depression.    anxiety.    panic attacks.    dissociation.    derealization.    depersonalization.    suicidal ideation.    self harm.    homicidal ideation.    psychosis.    auditory hallucinations.    visual hallucinations.    delusions.    mania.    hypomania.    racing thoughts.    hyperactivity.    attention difficulty.    flashbacks.    nightmares.    hyperarousal.    hypoarousal.    hypersexuality.    hyposexuality.    psychopathy.   risky behavior.    catatonia.    somatic / bodily concerns.    mutism.    phobia.    agoraphobia.    hoarding.    obsessions.    compulsions.    body dysmorphia.    hair picking.    skin picking.     amnesia.    illness anxiety / hypochondria.    sensory loss.    speech difficulty.    comprehension difficulty.    communication difficulty.    tics.    defiant behavior.    irritable mood.    vindictiveness.     aggression.    pyromania.    kleptomania.    paranoia.    attention seeking.    narcissism.    avoidance.    dependency.    pica.    rumination.    food restriction.    food binging.    purging.    soiling the bed.    insomnia.    fatigue.    sexual dysfunction.    delirium.    developmental delays.
note that all of the above are, on their own, normative and typical aspects of human functioning. they become “symptoms” when they last longer than “normal” or when they pose a significant impact on someone’s life / functioning.
explanations / elaborations on any of the above symptoms
despite having a seemingly very clear & strict code of ethics she holds herself & others to, no one seems to truly know what is up her sleeve or her true thoughts & motives. although titled the ice queen for her cold demeanor, olivier can be quite explosive. she is very tactical in her violence, however from the outside eye she is seemingly set off by very little things. she is the type of person to hold grudges for days, weeks, months, even years, plotting her revenge for when the timing is right- no, perfect. she never makes a move without forethought, despite how her violence may erupt, & is usually ten steps ahead of what anyone else may be thinking. when it comes to manipulation, she is truly the ice queen, playing 5D chess while others other assume she’s playing checkers.
tagged by: @farginen​ tagging: steal it
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shelobussy · 3 years
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ASH’S TMA HURT/COMFORT/FLUFF REC LIST 
For the gays. (And @damcrows who’s been dead for the past 24 hours. Rest in peace babe. Read some gay fic. Deny the inevitability of canon. <3)
___
the end, but the start (of all things that are left to do)  by @ajkal2
Jon wakes up.
aka. mag200 tore out my heart
(Very smol, very short, very spoiler. Def recommend for anyone who just finished the podcast.)
remind me how to smile by @tamerofdarkstars
Jon is probably fine, just hiding out somewhere while the whole murder thing blows over and that's... fine. Martin is fine with that explanation. Really. He's got plenty to distract himself - like listening through the entire What the Ghost episode library, for example. Or watching Georgie Barker's Instagram livestreams.
(Yea this was in the last rec list, but you don’t understand THE ADMIRAL GIVES CUDDLES)
Chamomile by Dribbledscribbles
Whatever the ex-tea was, if it really had ever been that last bag of chamomile Martin claimed he’d found tucked in the back of the cupboard, it was fast now.
Martin had tried catching it, chasing it, blocking its way with shoebox lids and plates and an upended footstool, but the thing was just too quick. Jon knew as well as Knew that he might have left off the attempts completely if not for the creature’s preferred game.
The game was, See How Many Times I Can Push Martin Towards Cardiac Arrest Before He Comes at Me with The Broom.
(Scottish Honeymoon Era. Adorable and weird. A vampire gets harassed.)
hey stranger by @ennuijpg
It’s a late night Tesco run, how eventful could it be? It’s not like Martin is going to run into his boss who’s wearing something absurdly different from usual and get the most acute form of whiplash possible from seeing him, right?
(Martin runs into Jon at the grocery store and has an existential crisis.)
roses roses, roses. by @judesstfrancis
Rose scented laundry detergent. Running into Jon in the breakroom. Running into Jon on his way back to his desk. Rose scented detergent. Running into Jon. Roses. Jon. Roses, roses, roses. 
(Canon enemies to friends to lovers au-ish. Martin POV. Very pining much sweet.)
go softly by doomcountry
And there is nothing else besides this. 
(More hurt/comfort than fluff. Scottish Honeymoon Era. Mild eye mutilation.)
Not Alone by @backofthebookshelf
After the coffin, Daisy and Jon are both fragile. They hold each other up. 
(Post-buried Jon&Daisy starter pack. Very hurt/comfort.)
trust my love by antlsepticeye
“you… you’re real, aren’t you?” jon whispers, the fog slowly dissipating from his mind. “it is not a trick?”
“i’m here,” martin says softly, reaching up to grab jon’s hand that was resting on his cheek, intertwining his fingers with jon’s and squeezing. he moves jon’s hand to martin’s chest, resting it over his heart. “you’re alright. i’m alright. take your time, love. let’s just take some deep breaths, okay?”
(TOUCHSTARVED JON HAS ENTERED THE CHAT.)
reaching out by Athina_Blaine
By the time things settled, when Martin had finally managed to crack through his cold shell, feel some of his old self returning to him in bits and pieces, they had found their little routine.
One that had the two of them sleeping in the same bed, making breakfast, going to the mart. Where Jon reached for his wrist while they slept, and Martin luxuriated in the gentle warmth of his fingers.  
But not one where Martin reached back. One that had Martin kissing Jon awake or taking his hand over the breakfast table, because ... Martin never had the courage to try. And then it never became a part of the routine.
And Martin desperately wanted it to be.
-
Martin and Jon have an important conversation.
(More Scottish Honeymoon Era for the soul. Hurt/comfort/fluff.)
Belabor by @janekfan​
Jon's given the position of Archivist and is falling apart at the seams. Tim and Sasha are upset and playing games. Elias is overbearing and manipulative.
And poor Martin is stuck cleaning up the mess.
(THEE first fic I ever read for tma. Season 1, hurt/comfort/fluff, and hints of Jmartin. janekfan is the absolute master of seasons 1-3 hurt/comfort. This is my favorite, but pls check out the rest of their fics.)
tea, blankets, and a damnable stubborn attitude by ivelostmyspectacles
“Are you really gonna stay here and pester Jon all evening?”
“I’m not pestering him,” Martin retorted, sounding vehement if not busy going through the cupboards. “I’m heating up soup.”
“Oh, you might as well make him another cup of tea while you’re at it.”
“Oh, good idea.”
Jon shot Tim a withering look.
(The one where Jon is ill, Martin makes tea and they watch doctor who together. Fluff 1000%.)
A Kind Hand by @voiceless-terror
Jonathan Sims was adjusting just fine, thank you very much.
In which a minor workplace spill causes Jon to realize that he might have friends.
(Ah yes, the other master of seasons 1-3 fic aka voiceless-terror being my other fav author in the fandom. This one is also season 1 hurt/comfort/fluff.)
A Weather In The Flesh by @cuttoothed
"There is a span of years where Jon doesn’t touch anyone other than the occasional hand shake. It’s not so bad. He’s never been someone who’s needed physical affection."
*
Jon has never been any good at making people want to stick around.
(More touched starved Jon! Much hurt/comfort!)
Something Old, Something New by @cirrus-grey
Months have passed, and everyone is doing better than they were. Daisy and Basira are getting married, Melanie is feeling her old self, Georgie is as much herself as she has ever been, and even Jon has stabilized on his wild fall away from humanity. Everyone is doing better.
Well. Almost everyone.
(Daisy/Barsira wedding! Melanie is a bitch and we love her! Jmartin dance! Post-canon (almost) everyone lives!)
The Weight of Love by @voiceless-terror
Jon is a restless sleeper. Martin attempts to adjust. 
(The fic where Jon is literally me and Martin attempts to sleep for 1k words.)
The Art of Conversation by @voiceless-terror
"Do you ever stop talking?"
Jon has a complicated relationship with words. Difficulties come and go.
(Jon has adhd and Martin is in love.)
Novelty by @backofthebookshelf
Jon experiences A Sexual Attraction; Martin has A Concern. They figure it out.
(Any fic that explores the ace spectrum is a 10/10. We stan all ace interpretations of jon on this blog.)
Half a Hug by Dathen
I know you weren’t going to hurt me, I trust you, he said again and again. And then a different kind of fear shone through, hollow and echoing: “Please don’t stop touching me."
-
Or: Life is hard when you're touch-starved but have trauma related to your closest friend.  Spoilers through TMA 132.
(Honestly bless every author who saw jon&daisy and was like. They’re siblings. No I will not elaborate.)
the loneliness never left me (but i can put it down in the pleasure of your company) by Athina_Blaine
It was about Martin making Jon feel safe, treasured, and loved. And it had been so, so long since anyone made him feel that way.
And, in the face of it all, Jon was starting to flounder.
(At this point I just need to make separate rec list for Scottish Honeymoon Era.)
you can watch me corrode by scarletfish
"So, how long have you been pulling this shit then?"
"I… excuse me?" Jon’s indignant, certain she can’t mean what he thinks she means.
"When was the last time you ate?"
(Georgie decides Jon and Melanie need a normal day off. Jon learns that he and Melanie have more in common than he thought.)
(Look, Melanie isn’t my favorite person in tma, but she and Jon are like THE SAME PERSON and I adore fics that elaborate on their relationship.)
Out of the Wind, In From the Cold by @ostentenacity
There are two bedrooms in the safehouse, and two beds.
For a moment, Jon considers asking to share, but decides against it with a wince. “I really loved you,” Martin had told him. Loved. Past tense. And Martin doesn’t exactly have a lot of choices right now in terms of company; it would be cruel to demand he play at feelings he no longer has just to make Jon happy.
(For a moment, Martin considers asking to share. But he dismisses the idea with a shake of his head. Jon has already done so much for him. Martin isn’t about to ask for more, especially not when it’s something he doesn’t really need. He has his right mind back, and he has Jon’s friendship. That should be enough for him. It’ll have to be.)
---
Jon thinks that Martin doesn’t love him. Martin thinks that Jon doesn’t love him. They do not, of course, discuss this. Unrequited love is already awkward enough, right? No need to dwell on it.
(THEE SCOTTISH HONEYMOON ERA FIC. IT’S ABOUT THE PINING, BEING MUTUALLY OBLIVIOUS AND FALLING IN LOVE. 10000/10.) 
I Do by @voiceless-terror
“I, um- this was supposed to be a lot more romantic, I swear.” Martin looks down at the dirty bar floor. “I had it all planned out, I-I was going to take you somewhere nice, and then we’d go for a walk in the square- I’ll still do it!” He hurries to explain, as if that’s the most pressing part of this situation. “It’ll be really nice, I’ve already hired a photographer-”
In a fit of protectiveness, Martin proposes to Jon.
(Everyone lives, Martin accidentally proposes and Jon is crying in public.) 
________
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givemethatgold · 3 years
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Fix’er Upper -Pt 14
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Paring: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader Warnings: just a bunch of fluffy family fluff, some dude being a nosy creep, overbearing mothers Length: 1.1 k Notes: This one is slow, babes. Just needed to build a bit of this new world, introduce Annie a bit and show you how things are progressing. It’ll pick up again soon I promise, bear with me! (Or don’t, I mean I can’t force you to like where this is going, lolz) Also, just typed this up tonight while raging at the laziness of men, so there are going to be mistakes, I can��t be fucked to find them. Trying to post this with NO links, as I’ve heard that may be the reason for the tagging issues? LET ME KNOW IF YOU GET THE NOTIFICATION THIS TIME!
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Turns out, two people with zero child-caring experience are not going to have an easy time suddenly becoming parents. There wasn't any one particular thing that you could pinpoint the difficulty one, either, it was just a complete one-eighty on how you had previously lived your lives.
Frankie immediately stopped working such late hours, effectively putting a bookmark in the cider's expansion. He didn't even have to think twice about it, it was a no-brainer to him. Didn't make the loss of potential income an easy pill to swallow, though. Date nights were officially off the schedule, so were sleepovers and all the fun things that accompanied them. There had been a few heated moments between the two of you, but Frankie felt weird about having sex anywhere near his daughter and you refused to let him fuck you in the barn. Again. Especially after the last two times resulted in unfortunate splinter placement. 
Annie took less time to adjust than the two of you did, she really was an amazing little girl. She loved her little nook in the loft, although the décor was not to her taste and she wouldn't stop dropping hints about it until you took her to pick out new everything. Frankie had tried to put his foot down by explaining she wasn't going to get everything she wanted in life, but all it took were widening eyes and a protruding bottom lip before he was handing you the truck keys before you could blink.
Annie's attachment to you had surprised everybody, including her. The conversations you and Frankie had had before her arrival usually skirted around the conversation of what your role would be. You knew she was mourning her mother and were wary of trying to replace her, so you had fully expected to take a step back from Frankie's life while he and Annie built their new one together. You had her at apple farm, however, and now the two of you were best buds.
Well, until the six-going-on-sixteen attitude reared its ugly head and suddenly sweet, angelic Annie was replaced by a stubborn, moody, unwilling child who decided that screaming was the best response to negotiations.
For the first couple of months, Frankie had allowed it, not knowing what was normal acting-out behaviour for a kid who had experienced parental loss. He also had a hard time being strict, as he still felt like it wasn't his place; some weird kind of imposter syndrome. However, after Jacquie and Mark had been witness to one such episode, they had gently pulled Frankie aside and encouraged him to find a therapist for Annie and that structure and rules would be beneficial for her.
New routines were set, some of which you were involved in and others were special between Frankie and his daughter. Saturday was movie night, she was asleep by 7:30 so it was more of a movie evening, with popcorn, Twizzlers, and coke floats. You were invited to these, as Annie insisted on educating both adults on which Disney princess was best.
Frankie drove Annie to school every day, he knew he could easily send her on the bus but he needed that extra assurance that she had gotten to school safely. There had been an odd incident, which no other adults seem to have witnessed, where a man had apparently approached Annie and started asking her questions about her parents. 
This had, understandably, upset the girl, and the two of you, but the busy body's identity was never revealed. Frankie had been irate. Initially, he interrogated Annie, asking her for every little detail. Then the bus driver, parking lot attendant, teachers, and other kids were subject to his questioning. He went so far as to request all security video footage from around town, but nothing showed up. Neither of you suspected Annie of lying but it was like the man was a ghost. 
Eventually, it was chalked up to a parent wanting to get the scoop on your and Frankie's lives, as you'd been very private considering your first action as a couple was to practically dry hump on a carnival ride. After that incident causing Frankie's panic attack, and now creeping out a kid, you were a lot less inclined to appreciate the meddling from bored townsfolk even if it did bring the two of you together.
Frankie was always thinking up new ideas to build trust and create new memories for Annie, his guilt at missing out on her toddler years was exasperated by having her now. They created a memory book for her, so she could write down, colour, or paste anything that reminded her of her mom or her life in California. You were secretly building a memory book for the two of them, to show Annie when she was older how hard her dad had worked to become the man she needed him to be.
Twice a week Annie got to pick the recipe and they made dinner together. This usually resulted in a massive mess and only semi-edible food, but the smiles on their faces were worth it.
On Wednesdays, you picked her up and had a girl's afternoon getting something from the bakery and perusing books at the library, making up stories about the people walking by the café windows, or driving over to Jacquie's so Annie could play with her kids.
It was after one such outing when you were dropping Annie off at the farm, that Frankie came out to greet you with a guilty look on his face.
"I'm sorry," he began, rubbing the back of his neck and readjusting his baseball cap. "I didn't look at the caller display before picking up, and then once I was on the phone I got nervous."
"Frankie," you said lowly, dread filling your stomach. "What did you do?"
"I couldn't help it, I panic talked and I don't even know how much I blurted out! She's like Oprah or Barbara Walters! She just knows how to get people talking!"
"I know, Frankie," you ground out, trying not to lose your shit in front of a very interested little girl who has no filter during Sharing Time at school. "That's why we don't answer her calls!"
"But, babe, she's your mom. We can't keep ignoring her-"
"Apparently not!" You didn't realize how frustrated you were before it was too late. Your voice had gone shrill and loud and, judging by the look at Annie's face, angry. Taking a deep, calming breath in you tried smiling at the two of them without it making you look demented, "I need to call her and do some damage control, make sure she doesn't do something rash like-"
"Ahhh..." Frankie was back to looking guilty and you could have sworn your heart stopped. "She knows about Annie. Called herself Grandma. Said that Mother's Day would be extra special this year..?"
"FUuuuuuudge.." you barely managed to withhold the swear, looking at Frankie with a slightly panicked yet amused look on your face.
"It's okay," a little voice piped up, "I know that word. Mom said ‘Fuck’ all the time while we were stuck in traffic."
Part Fifteen - coming soon!
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TAGS: Let’s see if these bitches work...
@rebelliouscat @pedro4ever @speakerforthedead0 @yespolkadotkitty @ilikechocolatemilkh @weirdowithnobeardo @pedro-pastel @disgruntledspacedad @a-skov @trash-dino-5000 @reader-s-cantina @alberta-sunrise @pascal-rascal424 @bts17army @sarahjkl82-blog @grogusmum @radiowallet @vonschweetz @greeneyedblondie44 @diaryofkali @cassandras-nest @silverstarsandsuns @haapeaness @missstef23 @computeringturtle @julesorwhatever @keeper0fthestars @lackofhonor @metahigh @thirstworldproblemss @sergeantbannerbarnes @callsigncatfish @inaturenymph @agingerindenial @pedritobalmando @lord-of-restingbiface @marydjarin @sebbys-girl @apascalrascal @thisshipwillsail316 @bison-writes @absurdthirst @ubri812 @marydjarin @inaturenymph @hyperfixatingmenever @louderrthanthunderr @petersunderoos96 @dobbyjen @tobealostwanderer @studyofawearymind @jaime1110 @bison-writes @rosiefridayrogersunday @leias-rebelion  @captainjaspenor @prettypedros @gracie7209 @peterhollandkait
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astro-rain · 3 years
Text
delicate; b. barnes
chapter five - “fight or flight”
delicate masterlist
word count: 1.7k
synopsis: bucky and (Y/N) have their first official therapy session.
pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader
[A/N]: this story is available my wattpad as an OC @/ typicaldaze :))
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She stood in front of her bed, ringing out her hands. Her gaze trailed off to nowhere specific, feet planted firmly on the floor of her room, body rigid and straight. She was nervous. This was no foreign feeling, but unpleasant all the same. Today was the first ever therapy session with Bucky.
She hadn't realized how strange it felt until she really thought about her position here. She never worked as an official therapist. She studied neuroscience and psychology, and the relationship between neurobiology and behavior. Don't get her wrong, she knew psychology, she knew trauma and how it interacted with the brain. In fact, sometimes her knowledge seemed like the only thing she could rely on, a consistent comfort and constant truth to keep her feet on the ground.
She shook the thought with a shake of her head, cracked her knuckles, and went for the door. She would have to get used to the Wakandan royal-guest living quarters. It looked like a five star hotel. No, a six star hotel; there is no such thing as a six star hotel, but Wakanda made it happen. That's what Y/N thought, anyway.
Briefly, she wondered what Bucky thought of it. Was he staying in the same area? He could be across the lake for all she knew. The castle was huge and had extensions everywhere. She wondered if he felt lonely here. She wondered if he felt scared, or relaxed, or if he didn't care at all. She thought this was all a little intimidating. She was wary of getting lost as she followed the directions Shuri gave her yesterday.
Her hands found themselves fidgeting again as she continued walking. Before, she was standing by, assisting Shuri and Bucky when needed. Now, she was going to be sitting in a room alone with Bucky. One on one. This would be more personal. (Y/N) was again intimidated. Not by Bucky, but by the nature of their relationship. She just wanted to do well. She just wanted to do right by him.
-
Alone in a room, tips of fingers tapped restlessly on the arm of a chair. Simultaneously, while walking down the hall, tips of fingers tapped nervously on the side of a thigh.
(Y/N) stood up as a Wakandan royal-aid escorted Bucky into the room. Immediately, she noticed his eyes scanning over the room, undoubtedly and probably unconsciously surveying for exits, possible threats, etc.
A brain that never rests, she thought.
The two of them thanked the aid and bid him farewell before standing in an awkward silence.
"It's nice to see you again, Bucky. I trust you're doing well," (Y/N) cut the tension.
The eloquent politeness was a weird taste on her tongue. She put up with it.
Bucky offered a smile. "Yes, thank you."
It took her a second to realize they were still both standing.
"Oh! Please sit. We can get started."
There were two couches across from each other. One a deep green, the other a pale blue. They were a nice contrast again the walls, which were clad in beautiful Wakandan designs of various shades of orange, yellow, and red. Except for one. On the far end of the room was a huge glass window, taking up the entire span of the wall. There were two end tables on each couch, and a small desk in the one corner with a warm golden lamp. The room was calm and welcoming.
"So, today isn't gonna be huge," (Y/N) started. "It is our first session, so we'll just talk, ya know, settle in."
Bucky nodded.
"So, how have you been? Adjusting well? Hating it? Absolutely no opinion?"
There was then a slight lightheartedness in her professionalism. It helped to put him at ease.
Bucky looked at his hands. "I'm doing alright. This place still needs a little gettin' used to, but that's expected."
"That's good to hear." She smiled slightly. "Wakanda is... a lot for an outsider. I don't think it matters if you're from another century or not."
Bucky chuckled.
"To be honest, I don't even know what therapy really is. They didn't have much of it in the forties."
"Well, it can be pretty hard sometimes, so here's a fair warning. Especially seeing the stuff you went through, just be prepared for difficulty."
As soon as she mentioned this, his demeanor changed.
"Yeah," he rubbed the back of his neck. "I guess difficulty is to be expected... with me."
That last part was so quiet she almost didn't hear it.
"Hey," (Y/N) said softly, "difficult is fine. It just means a little extra work.
Bucky looked up at her.
His eyes are very blue.
"A little extra work," he repeated, thoughtfully. "I think can do that."
"Do you get escorted everywhere like you did earlier?"
"Pretty much, yeah. Security measure, I guess," Bucky shrugged.
"I can understand that. You don't look scary though."
He then looked very confused.
"Th...thank you?"
"I'm just saying-I feel like it would probably be fine to let you walk here by yourself. It's only a problem when you hear the trigger words, right?"
"I think so, but I can't be sure. Neither can they. It's best to just keep everyone safe."
"Safe from..."
"Me."
"Well, you look perfectly gentle to me. I think it's the Winter Soldier they want to keep at bay."
That threw him for a loop. Gentle. Never in Bucky's life has he been described as gentle. At least... he didn't think so. He wasn't overly trusting of his memory.
"Kinda the same thing, don't ya think?"
"No."
Simple and head first into the point. Bucky once looked confused at her sureness.
"No?"
"No. You and the Winter Soldier are separate. It's not like you decided to go down that road. You weren't given a choice."
"Yeah, I guess."
She didn't seem the least bit convinced of his answer, but she decided to leave it alone.
(Y/N) uncrossed and re-crossed her legs, changing the subject and the mood.
"So, tell me about Steve!"
"Steve?"
"Yeah, I mean he rebelled against like a hundred countries to help you. I assumed you guys were close."
"Well," he started, leaning back in his seat, "he's my oldest friend, and my only friend now, I suppose. Stubborn ass, isn't he?"
"Maybe," (Y/N) smiled. "Sometimes stubborn is good, though. I can admire that. He isn't easily pushed around, that I can tell."
Bucky nearly snorted. "You should've seen him back when we were kids. Pushed around was part of his daily routine."
She almost giggled. "Oh, man. Poor Steve. He was lucky to have you, I take it?"
"We were lucky to have each other. But an argument can be made in Steve's favor 'cause he always made me look good. Not even because he was small or whatever, but because he was always puttin' me in situations where I'd act like a hero. Ya know, savin' his ass in the back of an alley or somethin'."
He seemed to get more comfortable as he talked about things that made him happy. Familiarity and goodness opened him up like a blooming flower. (Y/N) wasn't sure how to describe the sight, but the word that came to mind was golden.
"Sounds like you guys had a lot of fun."
"Yeah..." Bucky trailed off with a smile, thoughts tinted by memories of the past. Memories of an easier time.
"Oh, I've been meaning to ask. What did you think of all the exams we did with Shuri? How was it for you?"
"There's so much... stuff, and I have no idea what any of it is or does. I mean, it's been fine so far, but I can't help feeling constantly... confused. And unaware."
"Is that uncomfortable? Being unaware?"
"Well it's not a pleasure, that's for sure," Bucky said with a slight chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck.
He seemed nervous.
"Does this place make you nervous, Bucky?"
"Nervous? I don't know if I'd say nervous, but it is a lot to take in."
"That is true. Is that why you looked around the room for exits when you first came in? And why you're sitting facing the door instead of having your back to it?"
Bucky straightened his back.
"Didn't realize you caught that," he shrugged. "Just a habit."
And the flower began to wilt.
"Do you do that in rooms that you feel comfortable in?"
"I-uh... I'm not sure."
"That's alright. It's called hyper-vigilance. You're on high alert at all times. It's a common symptom in PTSD."
"In what?"
Bucky began to wipe his hands on his knees.
"PTSD stands for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, but we can get into all that in a later session."
"Do I... do I have that?"
"I think so," she answered calmly and surely, "but I'd wait 'til I got to know you before I formally made that diagnosis."
He glanced at the clock. A few dense moments of silence pass.
"Bucky?"
He cleared his throat. "Yeah?"
"Are you okay?"
The blue in his eyes looked like ice. They were frozen. Most people think that in stressful situations the body activates the fight or flight response, but there aren't only two options. There's fight, flight, and there's freeze. Bucky was freezing.
The irony, (Y/N) thought.
He snapped out of whatever trance he was in and stood up abruptly. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just-"
His head shot to the door and he wrung out his hands as his feet shifted in place. Mind undoubtedly going haywire trying to decide what to do.
"I think I need to go," Bucky said so fast he didn't realize he even said it.
He made a beeline for the door, restlessness all but pouring out of him.
"Buck-"
She couldn't get through the rest of his name before the door had open and shut, leaving her sitting alone on the couch.
Now she could check off freeze and flight...
-
PLS feel free to leave some feedback/constructive criticism, i’d really like to know what i can do to make this story better!
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draganasimpsforjeff · 3 years
Note
Hello! May I please have a creepypasta romantic match-up with some nsfw if your comfortable with it? Tysm in advance and I'm in love with your writing, like how is it so good?! Anyways I hope you have a great day/night and tysm once again!
Zodiac sign: Leo sun, Aries moon, Leo rising
Personality Type: ENTP
Pronouns: She/her
Sexuality: Straight (For now might be bi but i'm going with straight)
I'm 5'4 and I have a very tiny body frame so i'm extremely petite and pretty small. I'm not very curvy and I literally have the body of a cereal box...lol but its fine because I have nice hips and thighs. I have thick brown hair that goes down to my back and it gets tangled pretty easily but its kinda fluffy. I have brown eyes and tiny freckles all over my face and body. I also have a very strong grunge style, like Flannels, band t-shirts, combat boots, leather jackets etc. But i'd also always enjoy a nice oversized sweatshirt or hoodie with a pair of skinny, ripped jeans and some converses or something along those lines.
For my personality.....this is where things get interesting. At first people find me very intimidating due to my resting bitch face and cold exterior but I promise i'm not like that ALL the time. When you get to know me, i'm goofy and about everything that comes out of my mouth is sarcasm or some dry humored joke. I'm also that one friend in a group where they literally will do the stupidest shit ever like for an example one time it was super dark outside and my other friend was there, while I was trying to climb a tree and I failed and fell out of the tree, and landed on my back. I got straight up after that somehow it didn't hurt.....like at all? But yeah i'm super reckless and sometimes people have to save me from myself if you get what I mean. I also have a very strong "I don't give a fuck" attitude and I will not hesitate to stick up for myself or my friends....like i'm the type of person where if someone glares at me, i'll glare right back.
I have bad anxiety and I can be very self destructive. This is where my feisty, stubborn, hardheaded side comes in. If I want something then i'll fight for it even if it hurts me and i'll get into a bad cycle of putting myself down and trying to do better even if I did great the first time but I always push myself too far and other people have to stop me because I usually can't see it when its happening. I also cover my emotions up and I have a lot of trouble talking about whats bothering me or what problems i'm having emotionally so I put up a wall and I act tough, or happy and sometimes i'll be the exact opposite but I try to hide it.
Weird things about me: I've grown up in the south all my life so sometimes when I talk a few words they'll come out sounding WAYYY more country and southern then I wanted, I don't have an accent but sometimes my words just come out that way. I also love the smell of cigarette smoke....let me explain. When I was a kid my parents smoked a lot and I was used to smelling it and now it reminds me of home and is sort of comforting. Sometimes in the middle of the night you can find me just staring at a wall or something because I can't go to sleep.....I have trouble sleeping.....
Things I like: I love swimming (I was on a swim team for about 9 years), I love horror movies, I like rain and the sounds of thunderstorms because its calming to me, I also love the smell of rain, I like cloudy days, cooking, listening to 80's and 90's rock but mainly 90's because 90's is the best, My favorite bands are Bush, Audioslave, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Linkoln Park, Pearl jam but i'm pretty open to anything.
Things I dislike: Spiders.......I will scream if I see a spider.
So for the nsfw part (Feel free to ignore this if you don't want to write for it!)....I'm very shy and i'd like it if someone guided me. But i'm 100% a Bottom and I love praise and maybe a tiny bit of degradation. I also have a big ownership kink like if someone tells me that i'm their's....then I might die. I'm also a sucker for marking like lovebites and hickies? Yes please. But please tease me and edge me because I prefer not having control so someone else being in control is just...lovely. Also pet names! Like Sunshine, Babygirl, Doll....AHHhh I might melt.
-From 🎇Sparkle Anon🎇
Ah thank you so much! LOL I feel like we would be good friends bc of so much similarities, hope.you like this!
But anyways I match you up with-
🥁🥁🥁
Hoodie/Brian
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SFW
This man ain't gonna lie you sometimes remind him a female version of his best friend Tim/ Masky but like in a good way (bc of your style and music choice)
Your foolishness is the ultimate thing he loves about you
He is scared to leave you by yourself sometimes since you are a klutz
But luckily he knows just enough about first aid so if you have a deep enough cut or something to that measure he's got you 😉😊
At first he would be scared to initiate conversation bc of your very beautiful but deadly looking "resting bitch face"
But once you started talking to him more he would feel a lot more comfortable coming around and just knew that's your cover around new people
Definitely teases you about your height 🤭 (he's 5'11 in my hc)
Is that type of cliche dude to rest his arm on you or would purchase a step ladder for you
Something could be an inch off your reach and he'll feel the need to tease you about it (all in good fun tho)
Hunny, he definitely gets the whole having difficulties talking about whats bothering as he does it too, he'll just try to figure out other ways to make you express what you're feeling. (Through healthy ways ofc)
He has anxiety too so yeah babe he gets it 😌
Sorry love but he kind of likes spiders soooo he would be that asshole that would pick one up and put it in your hair or shoulder without you noticing. (And now I have to do this don't kill me)
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NSFW
Oooo darling ♥
He would love to mark you up
He love to be called his? Good cuz he was going to call you that either way even if you were friends or friends with benefits
What you got between your legs belongs to him
He loves how small you are since he's kind of toned and tall and you're like this little petite thing he can just throw around 😊
He understands if you're shy or don't feel comfortable being in control, he'll take over
Will say though, he'll probably suggest taking some sort of drug or anything to influence your senses so you feel more comfortable in your skin at some point or another
Especially since it's a very rare thing for him to see but he won't push too much
WILL 👏 FUCKING 👏 CALL 👏 YOU 👏 PET NAMES IN FRONT OF ANYONE
He doesn't care who hears or sees it since he would love to be caught ngl.
"I don't know why you're all dressed, doll, those clothes are gonna be in shreds and uses as gags or restraints"
Will take pics of you with his phone and has no shame having a very naked you in some angle displayed as his lock screen
Cockwarms you a lot especially when he's cleaning his guns
You just seem him there all busy taking care of something else and not you while his big ol dick stretches you
🥴🥴🥴 this man would choose to be suffocated between your thighs babe
Often squeezes them and ohohoh if you wear skirts or something showing them be prepared to be teased anywhere anytime
Hell even do it in front of others fuuuck he'd even eat you out while others are in the room.
"You're so tasty babygirl, I could eat you out all day and night"
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Note
Can I request some headcanons for TT au and Team Guy and Team 7? Love hearing about this au on my dash!!
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Time Travel AU
Kakashi is the first person to learn about games and get them all a gaming station. He finds out about it at his new job and spends the entire shift talking to his co-workers about gaming stations, games, and the things that would suit him. Ultimately he settles for nintendo because that seems to be the gaming station that has the most relaxing games and that's what he thinks he would like (he is correct)
Gai and Team Gai (much to Tenten's annoyance) still train every morning before the kids head off to school. Naruto and Sasuke usually join them, and about a week in Sakura starts to because she cannot sleep with all the noise being made outside so she gives in and just gets up. Kakashi is a stubborn but and prefers his solo training or training with his team. Gai's style of training isn't really for him, though he will partake once in a while if it's just him and Gai.
When it comes to jobs, Kakashi and Gai don't just choose what they do base on what they like. They also choose it based on what the boss they speak to is like. Kakashi actually turns away three job offers before settling at the coffee shop, because he can tell the boss is going to be a pain in his ass and this is his first chance to get away from that shit.
The first kid to really relax into their new life is surprisingly Naruto. It's nice for him to be in a place where no one has ever yelled at him or looked at him with hatred for the crime of existing. He has troubles for being a kid, sure, but he's not hated on as soon as he enters a space and he's surprised by how freeing that is. How much he enjoys that.
Sakura is the one who has the most difficulties adjusting because while everyone has friends back home she's the only one with a family. Her parents, who she always thought were so annoying and embarrassing but suddenly realizes she misses so much. People who she may never see again and can't help but cry over because she misses their hugs and her dad's stupid jokes.
Tenten finds the goldmine of Ebay and 'antique weapons' and suddenly her and Sakura's bedroom has a collection. Kakashi and Gai actually have to limit her on how much she's buying, because she just misses having weapons on her walls. It's her thing and she wants it back.
Tenten also finds TikTok and starts doing video's on how to clean antique weapons and take proper care of them. There are adults who have been doing this kind of thing their whole life who follow her because of how detailed she is, and never realize she has this information because it was her job just weeks ago.
When their school has its first dance, the kids don't know what to do. They're all still so new to this interesting place around them and don't want to ask out classmates, but they also kind of want to attend. Kakashi and Gai are supportive of them attending, but also realize it would probably be weird to go as each others dates so they suggest that the six of them just go together and have fun. People in their school kind of chuckle at the idea at first, but when they see the six of them just dancing with each other and having a blast they decide to join in and just relax instead of focusing on dates.
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cunaeparker · 4 years
Text
the gingerbread pancake scandal | p. parker
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pairing: peter parker x fem!reader
genre: best friends | fluff | angst if you blink
word count: 4k
note: its been awhile, hey ? things have been ... weird in my life, to say the least. ( mental health, suicide and self-destructive tendencies tw ) shit has been crazy. ive struggled with depression and anxiety for most of my life but it all has come to a striking, terrifying, and awful peak over the past few months . i almost had to be admitted to the psychiatric ward a month ago for threatening suicide and naturally i refused (there is nothing wrong with that ofc !! im just naturally a very stubborn person lol) bc i was scared . i am currently struggling with an eating disorder as well and my life has gone to shit. but the one thing i havent done for months is writing. it used to bring me joy, and so i thought i’d give it a try - and here we go - a shitty christmas oneshot. tbh im still not in the best state of mind but im trying to get through it and recover. i wish all my followers the best, & best of all, happy holidays and enjoy !!!! <33i missed you all so much and your lovely feedback :)
— y/n is stressed out, the avengers are kind of being assholes, and peter is scared of food poisoning 
-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- 
Spending weekends training at the Avengers facility in upstate New York wasn't an uncommon thing.
Having been brought in by Tony Stark during the Avenger's infamous breakup, Y/N Y/L/N was accustomed to it and usually didn't mind the complexity and difficulty of their routines. Coordinator Natalia Romanova - or more notoriously, Black Widow - held well-structured and helpful sessions.
Given, it gave Y/N quite a scare when she came home from school one day freshman year and found the Tony Stark himself conversing (quite flirtily) with her single mother over a glass of wine, not-very-subtly looking up and down her tightly fitting cocktail dress; but in retrospect, she kind of respected it?
Y/N was confused as to why he was there at the time as her backpack slowly slipped from her grip, but there, knees pulled up to his chest on the side of the couch and body swallowed up by a threadbare blue crewneck, was an awkward looking boy.
He was her age.
He looked like he had just been unwillingly dragged to her flat, and he looked scared - his body language definitely proved that - but his eyes... they were unreadable. They gleamed with something like excitement and fear and incredulity as if where he was wasn't where he was supposed to be.
"Think he's cute?" a voice spoke smoothy, breaking Y/N's train of thought.
Y/N paused and frowned, not expecting the billionaire to speak to her.
"No," she said boldly, jutting out a hip as Tony raised a brow. "He's really not my type," she simpered, earning a scoff from the boy and a surprised guffaw from Tony.
"Damn kid," Tony said, as an incredulous smirk quirked up the corner of his lips. "You're quite the blunt one. I respect it." He lifted his glass and winked. "Did you know that you qualify for the September Foundation?" he quickly changed the subject, "I brought Peter here to tell you all about it."
The boy - Peter - shot him a glare but remained silent, almost defiant.
Y/N smirked.
She could tell how he was feeling because she had had that very same look on her face when arguing with her teachers - a small squint of the eyes and an accosted cross of arms over the chest. Easy to analyze.
"So, Y/N," Tony said, making her head whip around once again, "I've caught wind of your exceptional performance in school, and just came to notify you and your lovely mother," he shot Ms. Y/L/N a gratifying look, to which she giggled girlishly and made Y/N suppress a gag, "that you are eligible for the fund."
Y/N raised an eyebrow and looked from Peter to the billionaire. "I don't remember applying."
"Yeah, well - you don't. Think of your grades as an application," Tony said. "It's only for the really smart ones," he added in a whisper, winking once again.
Y/N frowned a little, finding his behaviour odd - if not suspicious.
She stood up a little straighter and a muscle jumped in her jaw. Tony noticed her reluctance, and knew she was observant and analytical - with proper training and preparation he knew that she had the potential to be a real asset to the team.
With a shrug, he pulled himself up from their couch with a small huff (ignoring how Y/N's mum seemed to deflate) and placed his wine glass on their coffee table.
"Not going to reply? That's okay," Tony teased, placing his sunglasses on his head and revealing a pair of stern whisky eyes, "Peter here had a little struggle as well. He couldn't quite grasp that fact that he actually got the internship."
Peter shot him a withering look. "I could, actually."
Tony ignored him. "Now it seems that you have the chance to intern at Stark Industries - if you want to."
Y/N's mum gasped and clapped her hands together happily.
Like Tony, Y/N ignored her. She clenched her jaw and crossed her arms over her chest.
"OK, what's happening now?" she asked skeptically.
The whole situation seemed weird to her, and the receptors in her brain were going off like crazy.
"Nothing bad, nothing bad," said Tony casually, waving his hand dismissively in the air. He looked over at her mother with a wide smile. "Gracie, do you mind telling me where your lovely daughters' bedroom is? Peter and I have to... discuss something with her."
"Oh, yes, Tony, it's the first room on your left," said Gracie, teeth open wide in a primal smile. Her voice was unusually velvety, and Y/N could see her desperate mother's intentions as clear as day. Again, she suppressed the urge to vomit.
"Thank you," replied Tony. "Shall we?"
He gestured to the hallway near the kitchen, the one her mother just pointed to, raising an expectant eyebrow.
"Er - yeah. Sure," said Y/N hesitantly.
She threw her backpack on the coat hanger near the front door and turned. She began walking towards her bedroom, though not taking notice of how Tony pursed his lips threateningly when Peter glared at him. Suddenly feeling fearful, Peter got up from his seat on the couch slowly, almost grudgingly, to slink off after Tony and Y/N.
Turns out, Tony hadn't found Y/N through YouTube videos like he had Peter. He instead found her through longtime girlfriend Pepper Potts herself. Tony reminded Y/N gratefully of the time she had manipulated potential attackers out of harming Pepper when she was walking alone downtown, because when Pepper noticed a group of scraggly-looking men lurking around a corner, eyes malicious and body crouched as if they were waiting for something, she knew something was off when they miraculously turned around, just like that, dream-like and slow, to the beat-up car they had crawled out of.
Through extensive research and questioning, the identity of her saviour lead back to one person - Y/N.
"You're telekinetic?" Peter had asked, leaning forward in awe, "you can control people? And things?"
Y/N smirked. "And read their minds, yeah."
Peter paled and backed away, grimacing slightly.
Y/N wanted to reassure him and tell him that she only did it willingly and couldn't pinpoint his exact thoughts in that moment, but, she liked how he got flustered. She suppressed a snort and decided to tell him later.
'Later' did come, eventually, because after that encounter, the rest was history.
She fought alongside Tony and Peter with an alias.
Their friendship blossomed and strengthened throughout their teenage years and stayed strong into early adulthood.
Though over the span of six years, a big difference in maturity occured between the two recruits. Y/N and Peter were both fifteen in their initial meeting, but now, they found themselves at the ripe age of twenty-one. Legal and college-age. Attending the same university and closer than ever.
Unfortunately, Peter had set up a reputation of being quite tramp-ish, though Y/N knew it was inevitable - Peter seemed to grow more attractive with every passing day. His nerdy composure and hell of a deceiving body was something she knew college girls would eat up. And admittedly, she did too.
When they were training and he fisted his t-shirt and pulled it up to wipe at the sweat dripping down his face as his chest heaved, breaths laboured and unknowingly showing the toned skin underneath that was glowing with perspiration, Y/N's knees nearly gave out.
Pathetic, yes, but she couldn't help it. Peter Parker grew to be one hell of a looker and she knew that as well as the next person.
There had been instances when Peter had to physically restrain her from going after some girl when they went out clubbing because when they all began to crowd him and giggle filthily and run their manicured fingers up and down his shoulders Y/N could tell that he was uncomfortable and it made her enraged.
He had to whisper words of reassurance into her ear so she wouldn't pull a Natasha and wrap her legs around their skinny necks and pull them to the ground.
Given, it was a little amusing seeing the way Y/N's nostrils would flare, but Peter would rather not deal with a lawsuit and speculation of an undocumented enhanced.
But however, when they were training, all of those pent-up emotions and unknown feelings would cease and it would be normal again; just Y/N and Peter sparring in the ring.
She found that prepping for real-life situations with the people who had experienced them quite amazing. She felt so lucky to have that opportunity because she knew of some people that would kill to be trained by the most talented Avenger in close-combat herself.
But, since Y/N was a full-time college student, tackling a double major in both physics and business (and around Christmas time, for fuck's sake), the free time she could spend to freely doing something she enjoyed like training or partying had been whittled down to a mere two days on weekends.
Her boss, Nathan Prescoe, was ruthless when it came to missing shifts serving at the college bar near her flat. It resulted in her having to take the night shifts and get brutally harassed by plastered college students due to the promiscuous dress code the bar held --- and especially around the holidays, that's when it was at its peak.
Usually, on any other regular day the female employees were required to wear a low-cut, tight fitting black dress with the most absurd hem that stopped literally right below their asses, but during Christmas, goddamn Christmas, they had to wear a deep red dress nearly more scandalous than their usual attire paired with an awful white fuzzy pom-pom jingly hat.
It was embarrassing, to say the least.
But, as much as it sucked, Nathan's behaviour didn't phase her because she had a pretty certain hunch that his sadistic tendencies were currently being medicated and though it was awful it made those training weekends at the compound so much better.
An escape.
Though, now, in this particular instance, it was not.
Apparently, the team had planned for a mission, and no one had yet to inform her. Or, they just didn't want her to come.
It was probably the latter.
"I planned ahead to come for the weekend," Y/N said angrily, following the team as her nostrils flared, "I cancelled classes and hours of work to get here! I cancelled the damn gift exchange I planned with my roomates! Why are you all leaving?"
"The mission," Natasha mumbled, eyes darting around the hangar before picking up a leather jacket and throwing it over her shoulder. "We got a tip that HYDRA's up and running again."
Y/N ignored how her pulse quickened at the small admittance but she persisted in their wake, eyebrows furrowing.
"And why did no one tell me this?" she threw her hands in the air, "As an Avenger I think I deserve to know!"
Nat groaned and rubbed her face in her palms as Y/N huffed, turning to offer an annoyed smile.
"You didn't ask," she shrugged, "And by the way, you aren't an Avenger."
"C'mon, Nat," said Y/N blearily. "I didn't know. And besides, you could've told me before you insulted me and made me cancel my 11 hour shift."
"That's not my problem," she said, shooting her a look before strapping a gun into a holster on her hip, "It's you responsibility to know what you're up against."
Y/N went quiet.
Natasha did have a point, as much as Y/N hated to admit it. She probably should've looked at her schedule.
But Y/N shook her head, furrowing her eyebrows and trying to forget that small obstacle.
"Nat, let me come," she begged. Her eyes focused intently on Nat's fiery red braid and she stretched her fingers, "I've been training really hard lately, and I think I should be given a chance just to prove myself. I know I'm being irrational, but ever since Titan you've been so strict - and since it's the holidays maybe you can be a little lenient - "
"Y/N! Are you twenty-one or eleven?" Nat snapped, turning to face Y/N, "Leave it be. Peter's here this weekend anyways, you won't be alone."
Y/N scoffed.
"Yeah, but -"
"I said leave it." Nat's gaze was stern and a muscle jumped in her jaw. "I've had enough. We're leaving, and if I hear one more complaint out of you, I will make you run around this compound eighty times."
Y/N shut her mouth though irritation was still bubbling through her veins. She knew Nat was never one to bluff, and she would be surprised if she had to do anything less than run laps eighty times (because it had occurred more than once).
Glaring at her, Y/N stopped her jogging and jut out a hip.
"Okay. I'll stop. But, I think that I deserve a chance based on everything I've seen."
"Which consists of Thanos dusting you," Nat deadpanned. "That's not a lot considering you missed most of the action."
Y/N scowled.
"At least it's something!"
"Okay. Good for you. We're going."
Nat offered her a tight closed-mouth smile and turned quickly, jogging to the quinjet and holding up a hand so the team wouldn't leave without her. She stepped into the aircraft and looked thoroughly irritated, shooting Tony a 'don't talk to me' look before ignoring Y/N's indignant cries and slamming the hatch closed.
"Nat! Nat!"
She heard a brief cry of 'Enough!' come from inside of the quinjet and within seconds she was stumbling on her feet from the sudden burst of air. Groaning angrily and suppressing a childish stomp of her foot, she narrowed her eyes at the jet which was now flying off into the distance.
"Fuck," she muttered, walking back into the facility with a slow grudging gait, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes.
In all honesty, she didn't mind the break, because she'd working relentlessly for the past few weeks, but at the fact that they just straight up left her, it made her angry. She cancelled her shift, fun with her roommates, study time  --- and though her job did suck, she needed the extra cash. The least they could do was understand her situation and offer to do something remotely from the compound.
Y/N slammed the door to the hangar and found herself walking angrily to the kitchen.
Muttering under her breath as a scowl painted her face, she found herself loudly pulling out pans and whisks and flour, all her necessary coping tools - Y/N didn't necessarily like cooking, which was ironic considering her stress reliever was literally baking and though the food was never really good it helped to take her mind off things.
"Don't tell me you're baking again, I can't handle another round of food poisoning," a scratchy voice echoed from around the corner, and it didn't take a genius to know that it was Peter.
He walked into the kitchen wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a dri-fit t-shirt, chestnut curls all tousled and messy, most likely roused from a nap by Y/N's merciless throwing around of the metal pans.
Y/N grumbled and threw a whisk at him (to which he catched, much to her chagrin).
"Shut up," she said, pouring the flour into the bowl as Peter approached her with a smirk and tapped her head with the whisk. "I'm angry - do not touch me with that whisk - and I want pancakes."
Peter backed up and pouted. "Why can't I tap your head? It's quite a lovely whisk -"
And that comment is what prompted to Y/N throw a handful of flour in his face.
He spluttered and wiped it from his eyes, gaping. "Hey! Rude!"
Y/N snickered. "Suck it up, sleeping beauty."
Peter scoffed. "Fuck off," he frowned, poking her side, "I can do whatever I want. The adults aren't here."
Y/N stopped her vigorous mixing and shot him a look. "Pete. We are literally twenty-one."
Peter hummed and ran a hand through his hair, sitting back on the counter. "Yeah, but I still have the mentality of a fifteen year old," he shrugged.
Y/N raised an eyebrow. "I already knew that. The walls here aren't exactly thick - I can hear your Lego playlist play constantly."
Peter flushed, knowing fully well what she was implying - his supposed 'alone time' in his room was usually spent by playing a well-tailored Lego-building playlist as he created his life away with the small plastic pieces.
"Low blow," Peter shook his head as Y/N snorted, "You know it's a stress reliever."
"Yeah but it's not necessarily a cool one -hey!" Y/N spluttered as Peter threw a handful of flour at her mouth, scowling as he burst out in laughter. "You're such a dick!"
"And you're a grouchy bitch at the moment," he smirked.
Y/N threw her head back and groaned, glaring at him as she grudgingly wiped a handful of flour from the hollows of her eyes.
"If you're going to pester me while I bake, please, I beg of you, go back to that pigsty you call a bedroom," she said as she jut out a hip. "I don't want you here."
Peter pouted.
"Why? I'm just having some fun, Y/N/N." He sauntered up beside her and brushed her hair over her shoulder, kneading at her taut back and shoulder muscles.
The room suddenly grew tender when Y/N didn't respond and Peter could finally see how tired she was — it was in the way she hunched over and rubbed at her eyes, her telltale sign of exhaustion.
An influx of guilt surged through Peter.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I'll... I'll let you do your thing."
Y/N huffed, but found herself sinking into his warm touch.
It was comforting, and she actually found it endearing --- over the years, each of them had memorized exactly which tight muscles caused them pain and would sometimes subconsciously try and tend to them whenever they were close. It ranged from movie night on the couch when they were smushed up against each other, spooning at night when Peter had a particularly frightening nightmare and didn't want to be alone, and right now, just like clockwork, when Y/N was stressed.
It was nice and felt oddly like home.
Peter broke the silence by wrapping his arms around her waist and gently swaying back and forth as a small smile twisted up the corners of her lips, causing her to slowly put the whisk back down.
"Don't be stressed, Y/N/N," he said smoothly, pressing his lips to her hair as she sighed, "It's not worth it."
Y/N bit her lip.
"I know," she whispered, "But it's so hard when my boss is a sexist dick and the team leaves us here for important missions because we're deemed 'the babies' of the team when really, you and me both are more than capable -"
"Y/N," Peter interrupted. He relented his touch and Y/N frowned, turning to face him as a sad smile crossed his features. "You're just ranting now, love. Try not to think about all the bad stuff; yeah, your boss is a bitch and I want nothing more than to lay him out and yeah, the team might be assholes right now, but it doesn't matter because I'm here and you're here and there's a nasty looking batch of dry ingredients in dire need of a touch up."
He gave her a small smile as he reached for her hands, squeezing them gently.
Peter always knew how to calm her down.
Whether it was during a fight when someone hit Tony making her livid, Peter would hold her back and whisper words of encouragement in her hair. Whether it was when she would show up at Peter's apartment in tears after an awful shift where she was called terrible names by old perverted men, he would hold her in his bed at night and listen to her speak.
Y/N's lip wobbled at the thought.
"Awe, Pete..." she whispered, "You're the best."
A small smirk crossed his features, "I know."
A watery laugh escaped her lips. "There we go," she smiled brightly, "That's the normal Pete I know and love."
Peter gaped as his lips quirked into a small grin, "What do you mean, 'normal Pete?'"
"Oh, you know," she pressed a kiss to his hands before turning back towards the bowl, "The non-sappy one. I'm a big fan of your speeches and all, but the sappiness sure is something I'm not used to."
"Oh, come on!" he cried, "You liked it. I know you like to think you have no emotions, but I did see a tear or two."
"Yeah, yeah," Y/N laughed, smirking as she thrusted the bowl into his chest. "Get mixin' mister."
Peter's mouth fell open, and Y/N had to suppress a snort at how affronted the boy looked.
"I have to make this?" he yelped, "I don't know how to bake!"
"You're the one that said my mixing is in need of a touch up!"
Peter scoffed, "Oh I don't know! I was just saying that because I can see chunks of sugar in it!"
"Are you criticizing my mixing skills?" Y/N threatened, wielding the whisk like it was some kind of weapon, "You do not want to fuck with this. With this very whisk I have killed 10 people."
Peter grumbled, "More like 10 lumpy cups of flour."
"Shut up. Why don't we make..." she scanned the spice rack that was conveniently located on the marble countertop with furrowed brows, pensive, before landing on the perfect spice. She gasped and grabbed it so quickly Peter barely had time to register which two she picked up. "Let's make gingerbread pancakes!"
Peter's brows furrowed as she nodded and handed him the spices.
"Pancakes?" he asked, "Are you sure that works with pancake mix?"
Y/N scoffed.
"Of course it does," she dismissed, snatching the spices from Peter as she started to pour such an unhealthy amount of each into the dry bowl that it had Peter grimacing. "Cinnamon and ginger makes everything taste good."
Peter peered over the bowl and winced.
"Maybe not that much..."
-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-
@galaxystern08​  @averyfosterthoughts​ @pparkeramorr​ @peterparkermadness​@thenoddingbunny-blog​ @galaxystern08​ @coni-martina​ @inhumanwithpowers​ @averyfosterthoughts​ @softholand​ @quackeroos​ @parkersbliss​ @chaoticpete​ @cosmicholland​ @stardustom​ @mannien​ @my-patronus-is-mabel-pines​ @silteplaittais-toi​ @spideygirl2003​ @yoinkyourheart​ @darlintom​ @dreamofaprilsblog​ @the-crazy-fanfictionist​ @peterspideyy​ @stuckonspidey​ @eridanuswave​ @thirzaholland​ @t-holland2080​ @peachyparkerr​ @parkeret​ @etoileholland @duskholland​ @rosyparkers​ @finelinesupremacy​ @uglypastels​
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mythandlaur · 3 years
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So I have this weird thing I like to do with characters who have magic. It’s a little hard to explain, but I like to describe a character’s magical “aura” in a very aesthetic and metaphorical sort of way, kind of how their power “feels” both to themself and to others who might try to sense that power, or describing stuff I think evokes those feelings.
As expected, I’ve done this with several Puyo characters. Some of my friends liked the ones I showed them so I figured I may as well share. Several more under the cut!
-
Amitie has difficulty with her magic not because she isn't powerful or capable, but because controlling her magic is like trying to grasp a wisp of flickering flame in your hand. In fact, her power resembles all of the kinder sides of fire; bright and warm and playfully dancing about, not intending to hurt but fully capable of doing a lot of harm if ignored--or desired. Eventually, this power will grow into a blaze, a beacon of light and comfort for others, but for now it shimmers, ephemeral, just out of her grasp, like the pale rays of sunrise and the dust motes that dance in them, tingling a little too brilliantly on her fingertips before fizzling out as if laughing at her attempts to contain it.
Sig's magic feels like water lazily flowing through a creek, or perhaps something thicker--honey? Either way, it moves slow, steady, eating away at the earth around it at its own pace. A cool breeze, like sitting under the shade of a tree, or running your hand through the stream. Soothing. Clear. Quiet. And yet...there's something more underneath it. Harsher currents run under the stream, the bottom solid and powerful and...oddly warm. There is something more there, a storm that can be whipped into a destructive frenzy, but...it really doesn't want to do that. It does not want to destroy. It would rather carry on slowly, a pleasant tenor hum over a much stronger, but quieter, indescribable bass that gives it substance.
Klug's magic feels the way fizzy candy or carbonation does on your tongue; bright and sharp and sparkling and tingly. Like the way the end of a sparkler showers both light and sound into a hot summer night, or how a bottle rocket cracks and explodes with a brilliant flash. It's high-energy, vivid colors, wanting to burst out--but it's restrained. Carefully contained, perhaps more than it should be, in sharp lines and harsh angles. A wood block shaped to perfectly fit in a hole, a logical pattern. But it still burns at the ends of his fingers, still wild and still new, seeking to zip around the room until it completely exhausts itself. There's always a feeling of waiting for something more.
Strange Klug is limited to what power is already in Klug's body, so their two magics have some similarities; both are bright and angular and sparkling. But when possessed, his power takes on a darker tinge, and there is a well of pure rage fueling it. It's overpowering, suffocating, liable to knock you flat, and that's by design; it's something that takes you by the shoulders and shakes you and screams alongside a wailing siren, long and loud, demanding to be witnessed. It has the foreboding of the proverbial red sky at morning, of smelling smoke and not knowing exactly where it's coming from, and it is a desperate thing that pushes far past reasonable limits, panic and flashing red light and barely controlled with fingers digging and scrambling for purchase and refusing to let go.
Through no fault of his own, Lemres' power has grown from a bed of gnarled roots and wicked thorns that do all they can to block out the light, and sometimes you can feel a biting edge in his magic; a prick, a sting of acid, of poison, deep under the surface, especially when he is trying to hide the thornier parts of himself. But with time and care, flowers have bloomed, floaty, carefree-seeming petals and a bright gold-green like summer light through spring leaves. Lemres' magic burns not like fire, but stubborn sunlight that grew something from the depths of the dark, seeking to warm others but still wise to have a healthy respect for. It is strong, steady, and above all determined to shine.
Ringo's magic is odd. It's new, curious, clear, the sound of a tinkling bell above a shop door. It's your hair standing on end and goosebumps racing across your skin. And it grows like a brewing storm, giving and taking away in equal measure, not to be trifled with or dismissed by those on either side of it. It's taking a deep breath of crisp air at the top of a rollercoaster before plunging down and screaming with excitement at the top of your lungs. It's the sound an apple makes when you bite into it, that clean and crunchy sort of sound where you can feel the juice spraying out. It's on your tiptoes, on the cusp of something great, on the precipice. It's waiting for the gun to go off signaling the start of the race. Where it ends up, who can say?
Ecolo's magic is unknowable, in as much as it well and truly defies all the rules and laws of the world. It's a non-Newtonian fluid, a huge orb of something thick and oozy but quick and bouncy at the same time. It commands attention, but not in the way someone like Satan might--it's a chaotic barrage, an absolute, overwhelming assault on all of the senses, seeking not awe and fear, but rather any reaction at all. It's large, and strong, and it's easy to tell that much, but it's harder to tell the more cunning edge that runs underneath. A gelatinous cube waiting to consume an unsuspecting target who mistakes its shape for weakness. It's captivating, in a way, because it's so incomprehensible; the mind struggles to make some sense out of it, but it's all bright light and keening sounds and the feeling of balloon skin and colorful little rubber bands--though the potential for the latter to snap back and sting like nothing else should not for a moment be forgotten.
Satan has magic that is steady and powerful, honed over thousands and thousands of years like ancient stone cliffs. It's half as subtle and twice as dense as a mountain, demanding awe at its majesty. He casts spells as if he were a master artisan carving a grand, perhaps somewhat overly ostentatious statue that may last almost as long as he has. Stone and earth, sturdy and precise, yet with the sense of being very, very overbearing, like you are terribly small and insignificant next to it. And yet, events he will not speak of that no one else remembers has left a bitter tinge to his power, like coffee taken death black and the burnt ends of toast. Perhaps that only adds to the aesthetic. Perhaps he will pretend that's all it is.
He may not have as much innate magic as the others, but Lagnus' (Madou Saturn ver.) power is gold-painted steel shimmering blue, strong and durable and almost too shiny, enough to blind someone if he's not careful with it. But it isn't just pomp and circumstance, either; it's the sound your feet make on a well-worn trail and it's a mess of callouses, and even after Satan wiped the slate clean, there are whispers of old darkness, of the endless curses Lagnus took, giving up parts of himself for others. Underneath all the gold, it's warm the way a fireplace in an inn is, or a noble horse's coat in the sun. It is good not because of naivete, it is good because its wielder is determined to keep it in that shape even in spite of all that has happened--determined to keep it a healing, guiding light.
Ajisai (my version of the original book demon) had a power that was methodical and playful in equal measure, burning majestic like crimson-violet sunsets. It’s like satin ribbon dancing about with a flourish of the hand, a seemingly errant shower of sparks that's actually choreographed in a careful display. It's crisp and sharp and full, but gives the impression of having more running underneath it than meets the eye. An elegant thing, rich mahogany and old leather, but with an undercurrent of mischief that keeps it from being too terribly intimidating. It's when that impish, whimsical quality is completely absent that one should fear for their life.
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sir-adamus · 3 years
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so, after making some changes, struggling to find character allusions and having to rename one of the team members so i’d have an initial i can fit into a reasonable-ish team name, i have the concept descriptions of this RWBY fan-team down, below the cut, i give you Team HRTS - i am open to any feedback on these:
Team HRTS are a “technically-graduated” Huntress team operating out of Vale; they had rushed back to the school from a mission as the attack began, arriving at the city far too late to do anything but help pick up the pieces.
After a hasty, informal graduation from Acting Headmistress Glynda Goodwitch, they’re taking to their roles as Huntresses in a world now fumbling in the dark, no matter how futile it seems right now.
Alice Heddwyn – Leader, based on Alice in Wonderland. Rabbit Faunus. 21 years old.
Weapon: “Vorpal Blade” – Sword – fitted with grooves that slot different combinations of Dust types in depending on the mode, mode is selected by twisting the handle in combinations only Alice knows. Examples: “Snicker-Snack” mode – Default, no Dust. “Frumious” mode – Fire and Rock Dust. “Slithy” mode – Water and Gravity Dust. “Tulgey” mode – Plant and Wind Dust. “Mimsy” mode – Electricity Dust. Alice utilises a fast series of swings, dealing physical and elemental damage to wear down her opponents defenses.
Semblance: “Wonderland” – by expending Aura, Alice can summon an “imaginary friend” (similar to Weiss’s summons) that acts as an autonomous entity on the battlefield. Only one friend can be summoned at a time, cannot split into multiple entities, and as Alice is not directly in control of the friends, she must be careful who she picks as they may prove to be more a hindrance than a help. Risk factor: if she gets too carried away with her imagination, her Aura drains faster. Optimal usage is in small bursts rather than a continuous battlefield presence.
Personality: Charismatic, friendly and airy (in general, weird girl energy), able to balance the personalities within her team and respond to feedback from her teammates. Has a notable childish streak (she sometimes talks to her imaginary friends, so she seems weird to other people but – understandably – the line where she ends and the imaginary friends her Semblance manifests, and how sapient they are on their own, is blurry), and can be quite stubborn, especially towards authority figures when she believes she knows better. Quite talkative and blunt.
Appearance: Long, white rabbit ears. Short, platinum blonde hair – “punky” hairstyle? Blue eyes. Freckles and a tan due to outdoorsy nature. Shortest member of her team at 5’4’’. Outfit: Azure blue hairband. Blue combat skort (with pockets). White belt – pocket-watch hanging from it (gift/memento from a parent referencing the White Rabbit?) and Pumpkin Pete keychain. Wears black knee and wrist support braces and blue fingerless gloves. Black combat boots with blue lining/laces and cute white bows on the back. White tank top, black high collar crop puffer jacket (blue interior lining, stripes down the arms and accents), sleeves pushed up to her elbows.
Aura Colour: White
Emblem: Keyhole shape - splashed on the back of her jacket in white.
Background: Alice is the daughter of a Faunus and a human – her human parent is from the wealthier side of Vale (befitting the crown imagery and also alluding to original Alice being kind of upper class), she grew up in a large home in Vale, filled with extended family (some of whom she’s not entirely sure she’s actually related to), full of eccentricity and play; encouraging her wild imagination. She wanted to be a Huntress due to her imaginative spirit and romantic ideals about adventures and heroism. Initially she was quite a socially awkward, isolated loner outside of her home as she was often singled out as the weird kid (if she wasn’t being targeted for being a Faunus), while she studied at Pharos Academy, so initially it took a while for her to open up and rely on her team, at which point her more extroverted tendencies became apparent.
Rowena Argentum – based on Treasure Island. Human. 21 years old.
Weapon: “Flint and Bones” - Twin pistols that can combine and extend into an anti-material rifle (“The Captain”) – this mode has a lot of recoil, so Rowena’s prosthetic leg can double as a mount for it for long range shots.
Semblance: None – her Semblance was stolen not long after it unlocked when she was young, as collateral following a hit job by the assassin Marcus Black.
Personality: Cheerful and perhaps overly friendly, Rowena maintains a humble and optimistic outlook, sharing Alice’s eagerness for adventure. Unlike Alice, however, Rowena masks a hard edge, brought on by a life living unprotected by the Kingdoms; she’s an impressive liar, excellent at gathering information and pickpocketing. She has a vengeful streak and her impulsiveness often gets her into trouble, though it has tempered over the years.
Appearance: Long, loose green hair and coal-black irises. 5’8’’. She has a few scars on her arms and face from a rough life outside the Kingdoms, one notable one being a scar extending from the left edge of her mouth in a jagged “smile”. Rowena lost her left leg in the same incident she lost her Semblance; it has since been replaced with a simple prosthesis that she has modified to double as a mount for The Captain. She has a pirate aesthetic, wearing a loose blouse under a long double-breasted coat-jacket. Under her jacket she wears suspenders, which have the holsters for Flint and Bones attached. She wears several belts around her waist, loose-fitting trousers tucked into knee-high buckle boots. Colour scheme primarily green and silver.
Aura Colour: Silver
Emblem: A stylised Hawk from a top-down view, with its wings spread; worn on her belt buckle and tattooed on her right wrist.
Background: Rowena grew up outside the protection of the Kingdoms, hailing from a small seaside town. She saw numerous bandits and pirates coming through town on a daily basis, and would often be regaled with stories of swashbuckling adventure by the friendlier visitors. Until the day came that a notorious pirate made port in the town, and the place was set ablaze after his subsequent assassination by Marcus Black. Rowena’s Semblance was unlocked in the panic, only to be immediately stolen by Marcus on his way through, endangering the child’s life as her home burned around her, and the Grimm set in. She lost her leg as a result. Determined to never let this happen anywhere else, she dedicated her life to becoming a Huntress, traveling all over (including some time spent in Kuchinashi) and fighting to survive, learning whatever skills she had to until she was old enough to take the exam at Beacon Academy – and keeping an ear to the ground in case a certain assassin ever showed his face again.
Titania Ianthe – based on the Fairy Queen. Human. 21 years old.
Weapon: “Graviton Reign” – Glaive weapon, reach for crowd control. Contains a mechanism which uses Gravity Dust inside the blade, furthering crowd control ability, either with repulsing strikes or anchoring opponents as they are swept away.
Semblance: “Attraction” – Titania emits a low-level psychic field that makes everyone and everything pay attention to her. Effect is passive and subtle most of the time, but she can use her Aura to concentrate the effect as a pulse in battle (extending the radius of her Area of Effect to 15 meters); drawing aggro from people and Grimm alike.
Personality: Aloof, confident and proud, Titania didn’t come to Beacon to make friends, but there she found a family. Titania has a lot of walls up, and is often frustrated that her teammates seem determined to clamber over every single one. Despite her exasperation though, she loves her team and would do anything for them, even if it means administering some tough love once in a while. She has difficulty in social situations, and has a tendency to try and shoulder too much responsibility at once. She is also sometimes insecure, due to the nature of her Semblance, whether anyone truly likes her.
Appearance: Wavy, shoulder length dark brown hair, pinned back so it won’t get in her eyes. Dark purple eyes. She has light brown skin, a toned, athletic physique and is noted as the most beautiful of her team. Tallest member of the team at 6’2’’. Outfit: Wears a purple and black sleeveless, hooded top (hood is usually kept up). Black, segmented armoured bracers with silver accents over black gloves. A loose, knee-length faded purple skirt over biker shorts. Heeled black boots with purple laces and zippers.
Aura Colour: Purple
Emblem: A tiara with a large central peak – shaped with interwoven lines and swirls
Background: Titania hails from Vacuo, originally from a small community near the edge of the Kingdom. She grew up hearing old stories about famous Huntsmen and Huntresses, especially enamoured with legendary Huntresses like Opal or the Grimm Reaper. Eager to see the world beyond the sands, and assured in herself that she would one day be talked about in stories too, she trained to fight, traveling to Vale where she could begin her legend. She quickly found recognition and popularity at Beacon; she just wishes people would stop asking her out on dates.
Sable Dunscaith – based on Scáthach. Human. 21 years old.
Weapon: “Nightfall Breach” – a spear with multiple configurations. Its compact form can fire crossbow bolts (charged with explosive Dust) out of the spear tip. The default form functions as a regular spear weapon and can be thrown as a javelin – the spearhead has a hidden function, releasing explosive barbs for additional damage after making contact. The pole-vault form is exactly what it says on the tin, extending out and allowing Sable to pole-vault over or across obstacles, retracting rapidly to allow for aerial manoeuvres whilst she’s in the air. She can also throw Nightfall Breach as a javelin, and relies on martial arts training until she can retrieve it.
Semblance: “Phantom” – able to utilise any shadow within a 40-foot radius as a portal as long as she is stood within the shadow (and it isn’t her own) – she can then appear from any shadow of her choosing (the further away, the higher the cost on her Aura). She can also utilise portals at a distance by throwing objects, such as Nightfall Breach, giving her an advantage in combat by making her hard to predict. Her Semblance’s effectiveness is drastically increased at night, but incredibly diminished in wide open areas, especially during the day when there’s little to cast shadows.
Personality: In contrast to her gloomy appearance, Sable is as much of an excitable nerd as her leader, as well as the de facto team mom. Sable is often on the side-lines in conversations, which suits her just fine, but she’s always watching out for everyone and there to lend a supportive hand when it’s needed. In spite of her quiet appearance, she’s also a bit of a prankster and can be very competitive, especially when her twin is involved. Her calm, warm demeanour however masks a fiery and brutal warrior with a number of tricks up her sleeve that let her control the flow of battle while maintaining a sharp degree of unpredictability.
Appearance: Red hair kept in a short ponytail. Vivid crimson eyes. Pale complexion. In general, she has a very Gothic aesthetic. 5’11’’. Outfit: Sable dresses in mainly black with some silver accents. She wears a long, fishtail coat with a fur-lined collar, long trousers and fur-lined heeled boots.
Aura Colour: Black
Emblem: A Castle – embroidered in silver on the back of her coat.
Background: Sable grew up on the island of Patch off the coast of Vale, and like many, attended Signal Academy in hopes of one day being accepted into Beacon – being a Huntress like her mother and grandmother was the dream. Sable’s twin, Astrid, determined to outshine her, followed her on this path, becoming a rival that pushes Sable to become ever stronger. When initiation put them each on different teams, this rivalry grew even fiercer; now in their fourth year and on the cusp of becoming fully licensed Huntresses, tensions between the twins are edging towards a fever pitch.
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skamamoroma · 4 years
Text
All done.
I’m going to struggle IMMENSELY to summarise the past few hours.
I just used many tissues to dry my ridiculous tears, hardly able to see the screen. If this is the end completely then I’m satisfied. My heart doesn’t know what to do with itself but I feel contented.
But, LUDOVICO FUCKING BESSEGATO. Dude. I don’t know what to say about the talent of that man. The original s4 was fraught with issues with the odd true magic and beauty in there. It broke my heart at the time. I cherish those moments that truly were special and done to perfection. But I thank Ludo so much for what he tried to do, for the many MANY changes he made that made so much sense, that changed the story to fit his world, that made more messes that were ultimately more meaningful and for the surprises I didn’t expect. He has done this since day 1 and I am genuinely stunned.
Sana was and is beautiful. She was breathtaking from start to finish. She was human and difficult and gentle and funny and weird and intelligent and sensitive and so so much. Her mistakes didn’t feel unusual, her reasoning was impassioned and never once was she treated by the writing with anything other than affection even when she behaved wrongly. She was surrounded by beauty and at every turn she was just truly truly wonderful to behold. I didn’t know what to expect from this season but this? This genuine and total adoration for her. Ludo, that has you written all over it.
I have so much to say about the individual characters and moments and issues and THAT LAST EPISODE but as ever, if Skam It can be held up for one thing alone it is the dynamics between the characters and how they’re written with warmth and humanity and total deep affection. There was no dynamic went untouched, no moment wasted even in the background. Everyone was given their time and I didn’t feel it took away at all from Sana’s story... it always added to it. Rami/Sana, Filo/Marti, Fede/Sana, Luchino/Silvia, Gio/Marti, Eva/Gio, Sana/Ele, Filo/Sana, Marti/Sana, Marti/Eva, Sana/Malik, Elia/Gio, Filo/Ele.... every single one.
Mess and emotion and mistakes and difficulties were written in such an honest, blunt way and felt so true, so real as if these characters were exceptionally genuine. Especially Sana’s voicemail and her talk with Marti.
Every single shot was just fucking beautiful. I mean there’s no other way to say it. It was all achingly gorgeous, tiny little moments like the sound of a storm of the glare of the light or the steam from those hot baths (WHERE DID HE FIND THOSE). GOOD GOD.
The music. Hands down my favourite soundtrack of any Skam season and there have been MANY I’ve adored but this took the bloody biscuit. A perfect mixture and fitted each scene so beautifully, often adding to it so seamlessly like when Nico was playing seeker in hide and seek or when Sana was praying or the street procession’s voices...
And religion. I am not religious and I don’t speak for anyone who shares Sana’s experiences. I want to hear from you so so much. What did you think? As someone from outside that beautiful community and religious experience, it felt utterly breathtaking. It felt casual and normal as a way of life (whereas religion can often be portrayed as a burden) and it also felt celebrated and lit up from the inside to show the truth of it and the beauty within, the values it holds... not to mention the difficulties. Sana being able to speak to Marti the way she did or explain in her voicemail. Her anger. I felt it and I learned from her words. She just wanted to be seen, to be considered as herself and watching Malik look at her like he did and Marti being upfront with her but all because he likes her and their personalities fit and seeing her with her Mamma navigating being a teenager alongside the idea of a future.
I can’t finish without a mention of my boys. They were, as always, heart and bloody soul. My Marti was so present and overwhelming for me. I will 100% want to write god damn essays about him and about Nico but I didn’t feel he was out of character for a moment despite the major tests they threw at him, mainly because they laid the groundwork before it kicked off. We saw him from an outside view and his brutal honesty, his lashing out through fear and his sarcasm and stubbornness was explored in such depth... but his love for Nico was everywhere. All over it. As two young, complex guys and Nico with a past and vulnerabilities... both felt so raw and desperate at all times without ever losing the foundation they have. The effort to allow Nico to have as much of a voice as possible while still keeping that solid POV on Sana... I’m grateful. We all want to see more but the way it played out didn’t leave me feeling TOO wanting (EXCEPT FOR THAT UNDER THE BED SCENE... oh the desperation to see that). Testing them in that way was a brave move by Ludo but I am so pleased he did because they weren’t reduced to background models. They were woven into Sana’s story and given respect and real moments of beauty and honesty. I will NEVER BE ABLE TO GET MARTI’S HEARTBROKEN RED PUFFY TEARY EYES OUT OF MY HEAD. And the fact Gio was the one to lock them away...! Also. Hands down one of the best Marti moments was that snuggly hug on the beach, the fact that Nico looks at home and they’re both a little fragile but comforted by each other and then Marti and his god damn mouth asking if they can throw the guy in the water... hahahahaha. And Nico smiles. Because he knows Marti and loves him exactly as he is. Also a moment for Luchi and Silvia because I have a LOT to say but to see him trusted and to see his heart alongside his Luchi side was so meaningful and they were this refreshing special surprise.
And Gio. Gioooooo. Yet again. No matter which season, he felt fundamental despite not being the main. He is warm and navigates between them all with this sense of solidity and support. He’s just LOVELY. He was never missing. None of them were. I loved seeing him settled with Sofia (who was never belittled - only by Eva and hahahahaha yes they included her rolling her eyes again) but also clearly still entirely in love with Eva. That moment he told Cannegallo to get in line I was a weepy mess. The ending. Oh the god darn ending. That voice and hearing Eva’s words spoken back to him, hearing how loved he is and also reflecting on life... seeing them get back together so naturally. I honestly couldn’t have asked for more.
Also a moment for Federica. STRIKING AS ALL HELL. Fierce and willing to learn. Honest and she dazzled me.
I am unable to summarise properly as I’d write all day and it’s 4am! I have so much to say. I was bowled over by emotion watching the entire thing. But I was absolutely reminded of what a gift this show is and how precious I consider it to be. This season has wildly surpassed every expectation I had and god damn soared into the distance. I am stunned and I want to live, as always, in those orangey glowy scenes of warmth. It’s like being wrapped in a big blanket with someone telling you - “life is going to be hard but you’re ok, you’re going to be ok”. That’s how Skam Italia feels. Written, performed, edited and delivered with affection and love and i genuinely couldn’t be more grateful for it as I am this morning (did I mention it’s 4am).
I will write tons more. You know me. I will be talking endless about this season and you won’t shut me up but, for now, I hope you all enjoyed it as much as me. I don’t think I’m quite prepared to hear anything but love at the moment so I shall see you all tomorrow.
And, I hadn’t a clue if season 5 is a thing or even a possibility of any magnitude. Whatever happens, I want Ludo Bessegato with his hands all over it, loving these characters and taking us with them as Eva said though messes. I hope they don’t leave each other either ❤️ AND GIVE ME 10 EPISODES OF GIOVANNI GARAU FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. The world wants it.
Aaaaanyway, WHOEVER DECIDED IT WOULD EVER BE A GOOD IDEA TO BINGE A SKAM SEASON. Too many emotions. This shit needs time to digest in between. I feel like I just pushed off an emotional cliff. And on that note. I sleep. I love you all and I’m not even sorry for my meltdown! I’m classing this as my Italian revision. Job well done 😘
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unicyclehippo · 4 years
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Beau! And! Caleb! Being! Protective! Over! Each! Other! In! Their! Hometowns!
all things of kamordah are harsh, it seems. the cloudless sky offers no sanctuary from a blistering red-hazed sun and the landscape quickly turns from lush greens to brown grasses and baked hard ground. it isn’t what caleb expected of a wine county, but maybe he should have.
it reminds him very much of beauregard.
it’s apparent now that all they had discovered of the hag was correct; beau is a child of kamordah, beyond simply the place of her birth, and though it had seemed so strange before, now caleb sees her in all the land around them. the ruddy tones of the earth. the brilliant blue of the sky. the tenacity, the stubbornness of those grasses that claw and cling into the cracked earth and refuse, very simply, to die. and when they crest the last hill that spills into the valley surrounding the long sleeping volcano, caleb can see the lengths of vines like veins curling down and around the staggered cliffs of that mountainside, and it’s incredible. no less harsh, no less stark and rough, but incredible nonetheless.
they stop there a moment. the horses are happy for the rest and they crop optimistically at sparse grasses.
‘what’s the play, beau?’
she doesn’t so much as look at fjord, wanders a short way away to a small boulder—large for a stone, small for a boulder, a medium sized rock—where she pulls herself up onto it and sits, legs kicked out to dang off the slight overhang.
she sits, and she stares.
‘okay,’ fjord nods, salutes. ‘you keep lookout and we’ll—she’s not listening,’ he shrugs and turns back to the rest of them, clustered as they are on the rise. ‘let’s get the horses off the road—‘
‘it’s basically all road here,’ nott points out. she waves a long-fingered hand about them and no one can find a way to disagree—the whole world seems to be on hard-packed dirt road, flat and bare and dusted over with red dust as far as the eye can see.
‘reminds me of that spire garden in xhorhas,’ caduceus says. scratches at his chin and his curling pink-and-silver goatee.
‘garden?’ fjord grins. ‘you mean the giant field of death and sorrowfucks that tried to hug me to death?’
‘that’s the one,’ cad nods. ‘this is healthier, though. it’s right.’
fjord’s teasing expression drops and he scans the place as well, a faint expression of confusion and interest washing his eyes out nearly to blue themselves. he nods slowly. ‘i think, i think i feel it. nothing much life here but...it’s meant to be like this?’
‘there is plenty of life,’ caduceus disagrees, but he’s smiling. ‘you just gotta know where to look. but yeah. that’s real good, fjord.’
‘thanks. i think i’m getting the hang of it,’ he nudges nott, who shrugs.
‘are you? or are you just saying the buzz words? watch—barren land, secret growth, supporting life, nature, wildmother creates,’ nott trails off, pointing to the nodding caduceus as if to say you see?
fjord sulks.
‘do you think she’s okay?’ jester interrupts. her tail curls miserably around her ankle, occasionally dragging lines into the dirt, and she peers between fjord and caduceus to watch beau where she’s still sat on the rock, a still and solitary figure. ‘i mean, she says she’s fine, she says it a lot like all the time like, yah jester i’m fine we are just going to see my parents i mean how fucked up could that be, at least i’m pretty sure they’re not evil cultists,’ jester says all in a rush in an actually not terrible mimicry of beau’s voice, if somewhat accented. ‘and yah i’m fine i’m just drinking for fun.’
nott winces. ‘uh oh.’
‘and—‘
‘perhaps,’ caleb suggests gently, ‘you keep the things she has said to you in confidence.’
‘right. good call.’
‘she will tell us what to do,’ caleb says. of that, he has no doubt. whether she will tell them what she needs, on the other hand...
//
it is strange, sometimes, to look at beauregard. they are nothing alike, should be nothing alike: he is pale, she is brown, he is weedy and weak, she takes the brunt of their encounters so often, his skills are expansive and require materials and books and constant instruction, and hers are as intrinsic to her as breathing. in so many ways, more than just these few, they are remarkably dissimilar. and yet there are times when beauregard will speak of herself and there is a familiar, if well buried, note of loathing. for herself. something with which caleb is intimately familiar.
it—he is not so out of touch with his own mind and heart to know that he is connected to her, that he loves her as he would a sister. to know that this feeling belongs to her as well, it breaks his heart. and it makes him angry.
it is an hour or more of this thinking that leads him to her room. her room alone, jester sharing tonight with nott and with yasha when beau had requested some time on her own.
the inn where they are staying, within the town of kamordah itself, is small and well-kept. his booted feet make a quiet shush of movement over the woven grass mat that covers the floor, the dried and twisted material dyed into a handsome pattern of reds and brown and pale bleached white. caleb follows the pattern down the hall. stops outside of beau’s room.
she won’t be pleased to be questioned, he thinks. she might view it as interrogation. and yet,
he knocks.
there is no answer, and so he knocks again, a crisp two-rap knock.
‘beauregard, this is caleb. i have been examining some of our old notes and came across some minor difficulty with this code,’ he lies. ‘may i come in?’
the answer is muffled only by the thin door; she must be standing directly on the other side of it. ‘what code?’
‘avantika’s. do you perhaps recall—‘
‘i have the key to it,’ she tells him, pulling the door open.
if she had been sleeping properly, if she weren’t mightily distracted, he would not have made it into the room but the moment the door opens, caleb steps inside and crosses to the far side so that she will have some, if minor, difficulty removing him.
beau sighs. ‘you’re not holding a book, caleb.’
‘ja, that is correct.’
the door closes with a click.
beau turns. leans back against the frame, arms crossed. her expression doesn’t shift from her now constant frown and as caleb looks at her—really looks, not dropping his eyes—he cannot, even with his near perfect memory, recall the last time he had seen her smile.
‘what d’you wa—‘
‘we are going to see your parents tomorrow,’ he says.
she is very good at keeping her expressions controlled. he is not so good at reading people as caduceus is, but he had spent a long time with her. she can look as calm as she wants; he knows from experience that a past, particularly one that fills you with such desperate self-loathing, does not a calm heart make.
his own heart stutters in his chest, palms slicking with sweat as he recalls that day in the throne room, even before that point, the moment they had arrived in rexxentrum. he had not expected it to take him so fast, but there had always been something about the city. the heaviness of air in the northern vale, of city smog and the pressure of powerful magics that pushed against those senses keen to such things. he had been scattered by the sudden arrival of the memory, and squashed small beneath it all at once, and he remembers of all things that he can remember of that time, a firm hand on his shoulder. not pulling or gripping or hurting, nor brushing lightly, but a familiar and reassuring weight.
he doesn’t know what kamordah, what these people are to her—hasn’t asked, which he had thought of as respecting her privacy but may now seem to have been uncaring to other minds. but if he can, he would like to be that hand for her.
‘your family is—‘
‘they’re not my family.’
‘but they are, though,’ caleb says, and knows it is the wrong thing to have said when beau steps forward, picks up a cup from the table in the middle of the room, and turns to hurl it against the far wall where it breaks with the loud of shattering glass. he can see the way her shoulder and elbow extend, the way her arm turns—it is not graceful, it is not practised, it isn’t even a particularly good throw. it’s just mad.
panting a ragged breath that she struggles to bring under control, beau brings a hand up, sweeps her hair back into a semblance of order. it looks like she has done so many times, her hair mussed now, and strands falling out from the bun—top knot, she calls it—to frame her face.
‘they’re not my family, caleb,’ she says very carefully, very precisely. her tone doesn’t shift from even, controlled.
caleb lifts his hands in a surrender. braces himself to say it again and hopes that he can say it right, in a way that doesn’t hurt her.
‘there are...meanings to these words,’ he begins. beau breathes out. brings a hand up to cover her face. ‘the meanings of family-‘ she doesn’t react poorly to that, yet. he continues. ‘- ought to be safety, and of home, as much as they are of the people belonging to that famlly.’
‘exactly,’ beau surprises him, agreeing. ‘it’s you. you guys.’ she’s still covering her face but he is endeared to watch her hunch, shake her head. ‘don’t be weird about it.’
‘it is not...weird. you are my family too. all of them—and you.’
‘i said don’t be weird.’
caleb ignores her. ‘the exact meaning of family is not this...connotation. it is those people who are related to you by blood or legality.’ she doesn’t say anything, just hunches her shoulders further and turns away slightly. so he continues. ‘in this way, they are your family still and i do not say this to be cruel. i hope i do not. i simply say it because it is something to remember—‘
‘remembering they’re my parents isn’t the fucking problem, caleb!’ she whirls on him and takes a few quick steps backwards, away. there is an odd set to her shoulders that caleb doesn’t recognise but seems familiar. ‘i don’t need you to tell me they’re my parents, believe me, i can remember that perfectly well. i’m not jester, i’m not nott—i don’t need to be sat down and coddled and for you to look at me with big sad eyes and - and lament all the things you wish you could do with your parents and tell me i should take this opportunity, try t-to make amends or confront them or forgive them, i really, really don’t,’ she says, voice cracking.
‘that was never my intention,’ he tries to assure her, but the mask she tried so hard to keep up is breaking now, shattering and falling away before him and behind it he does not see his friend, he does not see an expositor, he sees—oh.
he sees a girl. very young, and very very scared. the set to her shoulders is one he recognises now as an addition to his own posture—not quite a flinch, but a hunch to keep him out of sight, to let certain eyes slide right away from him.
caleb’s gut begins to burn.
‘we are speaking away from each other again,’ he says, simply. ‘i did not come here to tell you to forgive your parents.’
beau stares at him, wide-eyed. ‘you didn’t?’
‘no. never. i do not know what they did to you—‘ she shakes her head dismissively, like it’s nothing.
the burning in his gut turns into an inferno; he wants to kill them, wants to set them aflame. fix her trauma with the aid of his own, the cleverer and sly portion of his mind laughs at himself. as much as he wants to do that, he also wants to reach out, wants very badly to hug her. he doesn’t know how. there is six paces between them; she will move away before he can get there. she will not want that from him, surely. he doesn’t move. he speaks.
‘i will listen, whenever you wish to talk. but... family is officially those people. parents. siblings. there should be another word for - for the family that cares for you, tries to care for you the way you deserve. it should be earned. honesty and forgiveness is something for nott and jester, for their families, because - because it is there. that love. that desire to have those people in their lives.’
beau nods. she looks wan, drained. she looks like he did, he is sure, after the events in rexxentrum. and when he starts to panic somewhat, he recalls that she had been there for him; he can do this for her.
‘regardless of what was lacking in them,’ he is careful to add, lest she think he would for one moment entertain the thougt that a child—no matter how precocious, how vibrant, how energetic they might be could deserve to be unloved, ‘they are your parents. that is undeniable.’
‘yeah.’
‘it is complicated. it will be...complicated, meeting them again. fraught.’
beau snorts. ‘yeah.’
‘what do you need from me?’ he asks.
it is all that he had wanted to ask this entire time, but though caleb is a very clever man, he can sometimes be effusive, complicated, and stupid. trying to get his friend to hear him seems to bring out the worst of that in him, and he is never more aware of the barrier of their languages than in such times.
‘i don’t need anything,’ she says. looks him in the eyes, still looking young and—and scared. lost. hurt. angry.
‘beau,’
‘i don’t. we go there, talk to them, get out.’
‘beauregard,’ he sighs, and follows the compulsion to step forward, boots tapping on the wooden floor—one, two, three, four, five steps—and she doesn’t move away when he pulls her into a hug, somewhat awkward and unhelped by the way she just stands there in the hold. he ignores his own discomfort and sets his chin on the top of her head. ‘you do not have to hurt yourself while we do this. we don’t want you to be hurt.’
her hands come up to rest on his back. no coat, just his cotton shirt. her fingers grip hard into it and she presses her face into his shoulder. she doesn’t cry; he would be surprised if she does before they leave. she holds herself too tightly, too controlled, to cry now. like he does.
‘you are not the person they knew,’ he says. ‘and you are not alone. we will not let them hurt you. tell me what you need.’
//
much later when they are sitting together at the small table in her room, she tells him, ‘i don’t want—i can’t be a kid. i don’t want them to see me as a kid. for them to see that when they look at me.’ she won’t meet his eyes as she says it. ‘and—i’m not gonna ask fjord or nott to look different, i know they were talking about it but,’ her anger is burning hot and caleb knows how good it feels, to be angry instead of scared. ‘fuck ‘em, y’know? the fucking king can stand to have them in his throne room, my p-parents can have them in their living room.’
neither of them comment on the way she had faltered on the word.
‘what can i do?’ she shakes her head but caleb insists. ‘nothing is too much. anything i can do, i will do.’
beau leans back in her chair. scrapes a nail over the lines of wood in the table, swirls around a smoothed knot in the grains.
‘i’m gonna wear my expositor’s robes. i’m—i earned those,’ she tells him. ‘i don’t want the others to change and, no, fuck it—‘
‘tell me, beau. they’ll be happy to do it.’
‘i—‘ beau cuts a glance out to the window, the dark of night. she sighs. ‘i want them to see that i’m not a fuck up. not a—a waste, not thrown in with the bad crowd.’ she snorts, shakes her head. ‘it’s stupid, i feel like i’ve almost made them proud and i hate it. like somehow they’ve won and i don’t know if i want to act like a fuckin’ murderer in there or show them that i’m an expositor or—‘ she trails off. shakes her head again.
‘you do not want them to take credit for your success.’
beau blinks. ‘yeah. i guess so.’
‘well. i can certainly prepare seeming for us,’ he tells her. ‘and whichever you decide—if you wish to—‘
‘no.’ her voice is certain, absolute. ‘no disguises. i don’t want to hide you guys—i’m not ashamed of you.’
caleb nods. plans to prepare it regardless.
‘i’ll think about it,’ she tells him, and it is tired and quiet and a little bit sad, but it is a dismissal nonetheless.
caleb leaves. stands in front of her door when it closes behind him, and finds that he isn’t quite ready to go back to his own room. he makes it to jester’s and, knocking on the door, finds when it opens that the remainder of his friends are sat within the room—at the table, on the bed—and waiting.
‘we heard something break,’ fjord says with a sad smile.
‘a glass,’ caleb nods.
‘ah.’
‘how is she?’ that is jester, sounding very worried, looking as though any moment now she’ll slip out and go and see for herself.
‘tired.’ jester nods. wraps her arms around herself. ‘this is hard for beauregard,’ caleb says carefully. he recalls in perfect clarity his friend standing like a personal guard in front of him, snatching bolts out of the air, sending coursing lightning through the air at anyone who dared to try and fucking touch him one more time, ikithon, just you fuckin dare to touch him! and he cannot keep her from terrible harm in the same manner, but he will do all that he can for her. ‘her parents, from what i can gather, are proud. demanding. i believe that beauregard will attend to them as an expositor. not as a daughter.’ hesitantly, he suggests, ‘if we could make ourselves look...’
‘respectable?’ nott suggests.
‘ja.’
‘kinda makes sense, the way she is. doesn’t it? fighting back against The Man. being rude and messy and kick ass.’ nott grins too sharp, but she can’t help the way her teeth are. he makes a mental note to research what arid grasses might do for a polymorph spell. sets that question aside to focus. ‘i’ll be halfling—‘
‘no. beau was very firm on that. she doesn’t want you,’ caleb looks to fjord, to jester, to caduceus, ‘to be what you are not.’
‘she never wants people to be what they aren’t,’ jester agrees.
‘ja. if we are the best versions of ourselves, however...’
a nod ripples around the room, and for a little time as the hot night air settles in the too-full room, they plan.
//
they are waiting for her when she steps down into the common room. her expositors robes are pristine, and the bags under her eyes deep and dark. both signs of how she had spent her night.
beau stops cold, has to steady herself with her bo staff—which carries, too, a new coat of polish and a neatly wound blue bow upon it.
jester she sees first by merit of who she searches for first, but as her gaze trawls the rest of them for any sign of blemish or fault, she finds none. their armour lovingly buffed, weapons and leathers polished, boots mended and clean.
and caleb.
he stands when he sees her and moves to the front of their little party, and watches as first shock and then horror and then muddled Hope bleeds through what had been such a good solid mask of indifference.
‘caleb, you don’t have to—‘
‘you are not alone,’ he says. he smoothes down the front of blood red and gold robes, the gifted raiment of the assembly. the shoulders and chest heavy with almost military designed brocade, and a heavy ruby brooch to close the short brown cape to his shoulders. ‘you are an expositor of the cobalt soul. accompanied by the mighty nein—two devout clerics, a paladin, an angel,’
‘we don’t know that,’ yasha mutters, as always.
‘a highly respected alchemist—‘
‘nice dress,’ beau tells nott, of her pretty yellow dress. earnest. kind.
nott nods.
‘—and a highly decorated mage of the cerberus assembly, who has no qualms,’ he adds, with a hint of a smile, ‘in drawing on his scourger past and killing parents.’
beau stares at him for a moment before she breaks, throws her head back and laughs. she’ll have to redo her makeup, smearing it a little when she wipes away a tear of what is probably only a little bit from laughing.
‘fuck!’ she says. ‘i guess i’m set.’
512 notes · View notes
albatris · 4 years
Note
is there romance in atdao or is it all just found famiy vibes? if there is romance im real curious about how peeps would express those kinda feelings
hello hi hello this took me AGES I’m very sorry I kept getting distracted by things such as being asleep
anyway yes thank you for the question! romance? yes, we’ve got some of this going on, sure, though I would count the romance as within the found family c:
I don’t know if you wanted a Ramble™ but this is a topic I can ramble about and I’m in a bit of a rambling mood so you can have a ramble, free of charge, just take it up to the register and have them enter the code “logan this is not what I ordered”
but yeah, your question? about eight vaguely relevant tangents immediately spring to mind! also spoilers?? spoilers after the cut
I really should have formatted this response in a way that puts the super spoiler heavy part at the end but since when have I ever ever in my life made things easy for my dear sweet followers
y’all know what I’m like with spoilers by now 
but yeah, to set the scene, there’s two main romantic......................... situations going on in the story, the first being between Noa and Alice, and the second being between Kai, Tris and Shara. so, the former I would describe as “a legitimate romantic subplot” and the latter I would describe as a character tripping and falling into it by sheer chance and just being like “oh whoops well I guess this is what I’m doing now” which is also extremely valid
Noa and Alice end up not being, like, Confirmed Endgame by the end of the story even though much of the plot looks like it’s heading in that direction, and like...... yeah, in my head, they do end up in a romantic relationship at some point post-story, but I’m not sure on what sort of timeline
during the story itself, it’s established that they do share mutual feelings for each other and this is likely heading towards a romantic relationship, but I think since much of the story sees Noa still trying to find her feet in just, like....... having friends at all, and trusting those friends, and knowing who she is in relation to others on any sort of level, I think near the end of the story she decides that she’s not at a place where she wants to try and figure out a romantic relationship just yet
it’s not a hard no, it’s just a “hey not right now” and a “let’s see what happens later down the track, for now it’s just nice to be around friends” ‘cause even that is just super new territory for her
which I worry will make people feel cheated, but also, I think it’s the ending for this subplot that would make the most sense for where the characters are at and would be the most fitting c:
and secondly there’s like
hm. ok
well, there WAS a vaguely jokey post I made yonks back where I pitched the idea of an ATDAO polyamory ending being just like. Alice who’s dating Noa who’s dating Shara who’s dating Kai who’s dating Tris. and I stand by this being solid as hell. but also, given the ending to Noa’s subplot with Alice, it doesn’t really work in the story canon, n though I think Noa and Shara is a dynamic I really enjoy, it would likely not actually play out in reality :P
which leaves the trio of Shara, Kai and Tris, a trio I’ve always vibed with and had vaguely on my radar as a valid poly ending but for some reason didn’t twig that I could just, like, make it canon and no one can stop me LMAO
but yeah, this one, like I said, it’s not so much aHD whole big subplot, it’s just something that falls into place super casually and is never really brought up beyond “oh is this a thing that’s happening?” “yeah” “cool ok”
I think there’s a brief window as a reader where you might be like “ugh this is gonna be a stupid love triangle or some weird jealousy thing” but then it just ends up being a complete non-issue. there’s basically zero romantic drama for this plotline, Tris and Shara are bros and Kai is dating both of them
n as for your question itself, it depends on whether you mean, like.......... how they would go about expressing to someone else that they have romantic feelings or, like, how they express their affections in a romantic scenario
‘cause for the former, the answer for both Tris and Noa is just.... they don’t
Noa because at the start of the story she views her crush on Alice as a huge fucking inconvenience that’s going to make things messy and complicated, so she just tries to ignore her romantic feelings as hard as she can (obviously this doesn’t last hahaha). but yeah, she’s just very pissed off that she has a crush and doesn’t want to acknowledge it :P she also has no idea how to respond when Alice expresses romantic interest in her, this is all extremely new territory
and Tris because he doesn’t realise he’s even experiencing romantic feelings in the first place?? like. the boy has so much baseline anxiety jitteriness that stuff like, idk, feeling your heart pick up pace, butterflies in the stomach, any kinda social nerves you get around the people you like, etc, he experiences this with Kai and is automatically just like “great now you’re here and I’m having a panic attack can you please leave”
just slaps a label of Bad Vibes onto it then later is like Wait A Minute
but yeah, I think neither of them would be super comfy actually expressing their feelings out loud or making that first move, Noa because she’s super fuckin petty and stubborn and Tris because he’s waaaaaaaay too fuckin socially anxious for that shit are you kidding
in terms of how they express their affections though??
so like. I have to reiterate that I’m aro and ace and I have a lot of difficulty in articulating what makes a romance A Romance, like??? I have relationships that are friendships and relationships that are romantic, but I myself don’t really experience romantic attraction in the way other people do
as such, the way I write characters in their romantic expressions tends to be just an extension of how they act in their friendships? which I think is a pretty ok thing to base a romance off anyway, but like, yeah, romance, this is a mystery to me for the most part, do I look like I know what a romance is
anyway I think once Alice and Noa get a little closer there’s a lot of good-natured ribbing and friendly insults, n since they already had a bit of a rivalry going on beforehand I would imagine this competitive streak doesn’t disappear :P Noa is generally uncomfy with being Openly affectionate and soft with others, so I think there would be a lot of more “indirect” ways she shows this care. I think they have the kind of relationship where from an outside perspective you don’t really get how it’s warm and affectionate, but it’s just ‘cause you don’t know the lingo, right
Tris is just the cheerleader type in all friendly relationships I think, lots of encouragement and hype and compliments and enthusiasm, he’s very excitable and very easily impressed hahahaha. though I think it takes people a while to click that he’s legitimately being 100% earnest and genuine, the constant deadpan does not work super well in his favour
anyway I’m gonna hop back up for a sec so I can cover Shara and Kai real quick
these two are............ a bit more direct with actually verbalising their feelings to people? Shara is a socially anxious type, but also not someone who enjoys beating around the bush, n she generally likes to just speak what’s on her mind and be direct with others whenever she can. Kai just kinda........ I mean, I don’t think they consider romantic affections to be a super big deal? at least in theory? I say in theory ‘cause, like, I think they give the impression that this kind of conversation is just super smooth and easy for them, and on the inside they’re like “it’s really not a big deal it’s just feelings it’s whatever” but they’re still anxious about it and had to hype themself up for like a week before going through with it lmao
but ye, in terms of how they express their affections, they’re both fairly similar. you suddenly will just Not Be Able To Get Rid Of Them, they’ll constantly be hanging around in the same space or dragging you into whatever shenanigans they’ve got going on, I think for both of them their favourite expression of love is just sharing in experiences or sharing the same space, just Being Involved And Around 
a “hey come help me run errands” type or a “I’m gonna hang off the back of your sofa while you’re studying and sometimes slingshot balls of paper at you with a rubber band” type :P
and now I have to go on Another Tangent just ‘cause the subject matter is vaguely relevant and idk where else I’m gonna go on this tangent
there is definitely some part of me that’s still super super fond of the idea of Kai being aro??? and I initially did write them as such, but for the moment this is not something that’s remained canon in text ‘cause I’m a little bitch ‘cause like
Kai would be aro in very much the same way I am, which is to say, they’re a person who is extremely full of love and who has difficulty in differentiating what the step is supposed to be between friendship feelings and romantic feelings, so, someone who may not necessarily “get” what makes a romance a romance or experience any feelings different from a strong friendship, but who is still open to being in a romantic relationship
(the difference between us being that Kai Really Really Likes People and enjoys being close with others as much as possible, where I’m more the awkward standoffish hermit type lmao)
but yeah, I was kinda like. well. despite being a perfectly valid aro person in a romantic relationship myself, if I were a fictional character people would probably call me bad rep HAHAHA. like “yeah they’re apparently aro but they don’t really ACT aro and the author put them in a romantic relationship ://”
and while I think there’s value to be had in fiction in exploring the different ways a person can be aro, I just, like................... thought about the hypothetical future discourse and was just like UGH. I cannot be fucking BOTHERED
I get enough people in real life being like “ok but you’re not REALLY aro like why do you even bother having that label it’s not like it matters in your context” even though I’m the goddamn expert on my own experiences you bastards
lmao
but yeah I think aro Kai is canon in my heart hahahaha. and they may end up articulating some of the same feelings, maybe just not with the label applied, who knows
anyway that’s my rambles done I think! thanks for reading n have a nice night c:
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I Forgot How To Breath: A Shattered ROTTMNT Fanfiction
Summary: A Shattered Prequel, Donnie’s not the only one who needs help from time to time. 
Word count:: 1,424
Pairing:Don’t you know me at this point? Wait you don’t? Oh then none, less then none
It was getting harder to breathe. Not because of some illness catching up to him, or because he was in any sort of distress. Believe it or not, the source of his breathing difficulty came from the Lou Jitsu Analog Watch he had refused to be more than three feet from for the past hour. Instead choosing to pace in front of it, glancing at it every so often
 “Leo they’re fine.”
 He didn’t have to look over his shoulder to know Donnie was standing behind him, arms crossed with an annoyingly flat look on his face that didn’t’ betray anything other than minor annoyance. “Mikey Dad and Raph left the convention six hours ago. Even if Raph stayed behind to take more selfies with a cosplayer they should have been back by now. And they’re not responding to our texts. Mikey promised me they’d respond no matter how many times I texted them. “
 “They’re also with Dad.”
 “Dad isn’t perfect, remember when he got into a fight with that Lou Jitsu Impersonator who said Lou Jitsu was straight? He could have gotten arrested.  Again.”
His immediate brother gave off a tired sigh, “I don’t suppose you don’t want to sit at the tv at least where’s there’s a rug? You’re going to get dizzy and fall into the toilet again
“I’m not afraid of the toilet” He said with a narrow of his eyes. Turning back to his vigilance. Honestly he would of given the missing family members a call except eh had no reception, usually they had no problem with cell service but in Winter their network  always took a nose dive (A problem that kept Donnie up late at night trying to fix for the past eight years now). Truth was that Donnie and Leo should have been with their family except that the two had been unjustly grounded (ok so they had cooked Spaghetti for dinner and slipped Splinters tail in it, so he took a bite out of himself). He looked back to the analog clock for the fifth time in ten seconds
 Were they ok?
 What if something happened? What if Splinter had been arrested? What if Raph had got stranded alone and went weird again? What if Mikey had an appendix burst and they had to try and get him into a hospital without alerting anyone they were mutants? What if Mikey had fallen into a portal and ended up in a world made entirely of unblemished blank walls and refused to leave unless he painted all the walls
 His heart was beating a mile a minute, the seconds of the clock seemed to have come to a complete stop.  and squeezed his eyes shut. HE knew he was being childish; he knew he was being stubborn. Every time he thought of walking away that annoying voice return, telling him the same thing every time
That they were gone
 They were gone forever.  Taken, they were all that was left. Alone, they were all alone, now weren’t they? The only ones of their kind, in an unforgiving city. Splinter was the only one of them who had regular access to money in a way Splinter kept secret, Donnie and Leo had their allowances but that wouldn’t last forever. They’d have to find a way to make a living. Could they move in with April? NO April had her parents who had no idea of their existence. OR worst what if their family needed them and they were still in New Jersey? He KNEW nothing good ever came out of going to Jersey. This was all his fault, pranking Dad had been his idea, fi he and Donnie were there latest they’d all be together-
Every second of the clock was another second part of his family was missing
Every second of the clock was another second of his worst fears becoming reality
Every second of the clock was another second his heartbeat was getting faster
 HE was so focused the clock that when something large and flat fell over his head, covering him in darkness. Even though he was only a few months from becoming fourteen he let out the most immature shriek and thrashed around a few moments until he finally poked his head free in pure confusion till he saw Donnie with a bundle of blankets in his arms, he set one stack aside before taking the biggest and thickest one and flapping it out by the corners so it lay flat,” Come on Leo, if we’re sitting here all night we might as well be comfortable.”
 Leo looked back to the bundle of blankets, “Don come on- “
“No don’t’ be stupid, I’m not going to sit in the living room all night by myself while you watch the door all night on a cold floor. I’m not heartless. So, stop being a child and make a fort with me.”
 At first Leo was content with being a child, but when Donnie pulled out his limited edition glow in the dark Bluetooth Lou Jitsu sheets, he begrudgingly took the other edge  and helped him unfold it (while not thinking about how Donnie had never EVER used these sheets, not even when Leo had the Double Grade Rat flu and begged for them on his supposed death bed)
  So instead he grabbed a few extra pillows “No one said you were- “but even so he was welcomed with another blanket being thrown over his head. Thankfully without being in a panic, he freed himself intime to see Donnie pull over a beanbag chair and sit by his side in his favorite purple hoodie, “Pick out a movie to watch on the tablet, I’m bored.”
 “what about the internet? I thought the last snowstorm knocked it out.”
 “I downloaded them ahead of time, so we’d have something to watch. Just pick something, just so long as it’s not Jupiter Jim Sails the Seven Galaxies.”
 OF course, Donnie had the worst taste in movies. Even so he turned on Lou Jitsu in ‘Its ok to cry’ (which was a way cooler movie then it sounded)’ “It’s kind of weird, you know?” he said as the credits rolled in, “I get so used making sure you’re ok, it’s kind of weird when the tables are turned right?”
 Don had just poked his head back into their pillow fort, but made sure to roll his eyes, “what exactly do you mean by that?”
 “You know, I’m usually the one who looks after you bro. I make sure you don’t’ get overwhelmed or flustered or calm you down.” Leo was already enjoying digging into one of the chip bags Don had brought over. He was so into shoving as many chips into his mouth as possible he didn’t see Don’s exasperated face slowly unclench and his intelligent eyes glanced away, looking to his hands. If Leo had been looking at him, if anyone had been looking at him, they would have asked him why he suddenly looked so sad. And if anyone had asked, he would have answered, with a question of his own
 ‘Am I really such a burden to everyone?’
 But instead when Leo finally pulled his head free of the bag, Donnie threw a pillow at his face with a battle cry with all the skill of someone who spent most of their life learning how to mask their feelings. The ensuing pillow fight was full of laughter, and the breaking of lamps (eventually they would all be repaired with all the gum Leo and Donnie could chew) and overall, it was a fun night. IT was enough to finally ease Leo’s anxiety, and he didn’t even remember that Raph Mikey and Splinter were gone till they finally got a text a few hours later saying that they were holed up in a hotel because of the weather. Leo unleased d full smile and cheered nearly tackling Donnie over.  They would return by the next day, and only for Donnie and Leo to get grounded again for breaking so many lamps, and time went on. Yet occasionally, Don would get that same sadness in his eyes. After his meltdowns, after he’d get overwhelmed and Leo would help him, when he was sure no one was looking. And it would drive him to ask Sunita about the store just for Yokai. To take a challenge he wasn’t sure he had been ready for. That question that would haunt him
  ‘Is that all you think I am? ‘
A/n
I dont’ usually do authors notes like this, but i’m making a exception. I know right now the world is scary. I wish i could offer you some sort of comfort that would last more then a few seconds. But in truth? None of us know what tomorrow will be like, but I can promise that this will eventually become a memory as all things do.  I’m going to write as much as I can, even if it only helps one person because that one person will be worth it. Even though I’m one of the ‘essential workers’ right now (retail)
And as cliche as it sounds we are all in this together
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amaryllis, bluebell, fern, magnolia, 🍎
amaryllis: what is something or someone that your muse takes pride in? how do they express that pride?  
Tina is quite proud of her ever-growing teapot collection, though she doesn’t show it off very often. Aunt Mary raised her around the pottery studio, so she was always tinkering with such things, and when she became particularly stressed (and broke said teapots) Mary made her sit down and mend them. Now Tina has a collection mixed with teapots she has made, acquired, broken, and fixed, and when she needs to chill out she fixes up the collection and gives them all a polish. She brings out the special ones when her friends are over for tea and a gossip and she’s proud to say she has only broken one this month.
bluebell: does your muse learn from their past, or are they prone to repeating the same mistakes?
The answer is... sometimes. It seems the only thing Tina really learns from her past is the most quick and effective ways to piss someone off, and rarely changes her actions despite the consequences of such. She speaks before she thinks, reacts before she assesses a situation and acts before anyone has time to stop her.
Frustratingly for most, her biggest mistake, the one she repeats over and over again, is Peter. No matter how many times he hurts her, she keeps coming back. She can’t stay away and is blind to just how bad he really is for her.
But she’s getting better in some aspects. James is a shining example. Okay, yeah, sure she still absolutely winds him up every chance she gets, but he seems to be the only person that can kick her conscience into gear. Tina has hurt James quite terribly in the past and she feels immensely guilty for it, and now, by some miracle, she is trying to do better and not repeat those same mistakes.
fern: does your muse believe in magic or cosmic forces, or are they more likely to think their life is ultimately a matter of their own control?
Tina totally believes in magic, in some weird childhood, Lost Boy story sort of way. She doesn’t necessarily believe in some higher power or cosmic force controlling things (she would have a stern word with someone if there was) but she definitely believes in something. You can’t live in Redwood Hollow and grow up playing in the woods without at least believing in fairies. Tina is somewhat superstitious, and won’t leave somewhere with a magpie if she hasn’t found its companion first. She wouldn’t let her worst enemy (exception being Wendy) step inside a ring of mushrooms.
magnolia: describe your muse’s relationship with nature & the natural world.
Tina was raised amongst the trees and the wildflowers, bathing in sunlight and smelling distinctly of grass-stains and earth. Peter, Tina and the Lost Boys spent more time playing in the woods, building treehouses and going on sprawling adventures through the surrounding woodland of Redwood Hollow than they did going to school or brushing their teeth. Even now, Tina smells vaguely of fresh lavender and summers long gone; ask James, whose house is quickly being overrun by pretty green houseplants and outdoorsy-scented candles, and he’ll tell you the same thing. Outdoors in nature is a safe place for Tina. It was a place free of constraints and responsibility, a place of freedom, and a place where she and the Lost Boys didn’t have to answer to anybody but themselves.
🍎 how stable is my muse’s mental health?  have they been diagnosed with any mental illnesses and  /  or conditions?  do they have any undiagnosed mental illnesses and  /  or conditions?  do they or should they attend therapy?
Let’s start with the last and most obvious question: Tina needs serious therapy. No one can even deny it at this point. (I mean, hello, she was crying about Smiley Faces in the grocery store. Are we surprised?) Unfortunately, she’s incredibly stubborn, and says “I’m Fine” more than any other sentence, so trying to convince her to attend therapy would only make her dig her heels in deeper.
Tina is teetering on the edge of complete mental breakdown at any given moment, she has been for a while, and we genuinely have no idea how she hasn’t completely crumbled yet. James has fallen witness to two total meltdowns in the past year, but we’re all certain that they weren’t the worst of it. The events of the past year or two have especially taken a toll on her, piling on top of an already unstable upbringing and difficulty handling her emotions. Tina is easily overwhelmed by what she feels, experiencing things such as jealously, anger or sadness so intensely that it feels like they are all-consuming. The best part is, she hates talking about her feelings, and especially hates when anyone sees her cry. Healthy coping mechanisms are few and far between, resulting in attention seeking and reckless behaviour, violent outbursts and hours spent bawling her eyes out on the kitchen floor.
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