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#does anyone even care?? probably not but its important to ME
prettyinpunk · 1 year
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a ridiculously detailed catalogue of matt's guitars for my show*! aka a collection for people who have maybe an unhealthy obsession with Manson guitars
*4/14/23; in order of how excited i was to see them! this isn't necessarily a ranking of how cool i think these guitars are! this ranking is based purely on the amount of deadly chemicals released by my brain upon seeing them.
#10 Matt Black FR(Matt Black Whammy)/Chrome FR(Chrome Whammy)
i'm pairing them first since they're almost identical in build(though the MBFR is in drop D) and i was expecting to see both of them/have seen them used in past shows :)
Chrome Whammy also gets used the most in this era and both of them have given me so much grief when trying to identify these guitars. the dark chrome finish looks SO much like the Matt Black FR under certain stage lighting and it's nearly impossible to tell them apart by hardware, there've been so many times when i confidently think oh hey he's using the Matt Black Whammy but no its Chrome FR. and vice versa. even at certain points during the actual concert i was second guessing myself, they make me feel delusional.
used for: MBFR: Psycho; Chrome Whammy: WOTP, (Interlude)Hysteria, Compliance, Thought Contagion, KOC
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#9 Matt Black 3.0
i was excited to see her with visible wear and tear from the obvious, so much so that i specifically took a picture of the broken headstock foregoing any attempt at pretending matt was supposed to be the subject of the picture.
used for: WAFF
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#8 M1D1 Stealth
even knowing i would see her, i just got so excited about the kaoss pad. as one does. its a special little joy to see hardware thats so uniquely Muse. like in what other performance are you going to get to see a kaoss pad in a guitar(or bass)!
this picture is a screenshot from my video because ngl most of my image capture for SBH was spent filming dom. for a friend.
used for: SBH
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#7 MB-1 Blue(Blue Steel/Blue Beast)
i just think she's sooooo pretty, the blue is such a beautifully rich shade and i love the gloss finish, as much as i love the play on "matt" with the matte guitars, i'm weak to pretty shiny things. it was also so exciting to see her because i really wanted them to play Resistance and when i saw matt with the MB-1 Blue i knew they were going to! (barring the fact that they were alternating every night and i knew that night it was Resistance's turn, for some reason i was still worried we wouldn't get it lmao) i did accidentally call her Bluebell at the time though. which i don't think has been used at all this tour(🥲).
TIRO, Resistance, Madness
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#6 Oryx
somehow i neglected to take a picture of her specifically??? i'm really kicking myself because i didn't get any closeups during WSD or KOBK but the whole time i was holding my tongue from talking about her during the show 😭 because who in their right mind wants to hear some random screaming fan yelling about how the Oryx is matt's first Manson with 24 frets during the show 💀 i did get to see him use it earlier this year at my last Muse show which is why i've put it before my #5. but she is so unique and interesting, there are so many cool fun facts about her! i don't know how i didn't get a good shot, i was probably too busy headbanging.
i did get this pretty cool picture from KOBK though 🥲
used for: WSD, KOBK
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#5 MB-S Prototype(Verona Sky)
to finish off the trifecta of newbies(2022/2023 additions, barring remodels)! suuuuch a beauty and makes watching Verona just that much more magical! a brand new Manson special for the WOTP era for the most tender moments of the show <3. both Verona and TDS instrumental have a dreamlike energy live, which to me is elevated by the MB-S in her beautiful sunburst orange and strat-style shape. matt was pretty far from us while perched on will's shoulder so i didn't get a great pic of it but i tried! its just such a gentle, almost pensive little moment in the set between two heavy bangers(WAFF/SBH) which i love, it feels oddly intimate in spite of being in a full arena as matt coaxes each note out of the MB-S and it echoes into the open space.
here she is pre and post-confetti shower(she did not come through unscathed)!
used for: Verona, TDS(AR)
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#4 Red Alert
since there are three red guitars in use for Uprising this tour, i really didn't know which one we were going to get! the last time i saw them in january, matt used the MA EVO Sustainiac Satin Fire Red, which is fun, but like the other Fire Red, has a matt(e) finish. i was really hoping we would get to see Red Alert and we did!!! she looks like cherry candy i need to take a bite. uh, that is to say. she's very pretty and my eyes sparkle in her presence. and she has a special name which is always important to me. i wouldn't say Red Alert ranks higher than some of the other beauties on this list in terms of how cool i think they are, but since there wasn't a guarantee we'd get to see it, it ranks highly here!
used for: Uprising
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#3 Mirror 2.0
notoriously a nightmare to get a good picture of live, what with the whole... mirror finish and all, here she is!! our beloved veteran of the lineup, Mirror Manson <3. what a joy to see her, even though she's not the original. i couldn't confirm which Mirror he was using at the time since they're almost identical, but the fuzz factory knobs are slightly further apart than the OG, and 2.0 is fit with a MBK-1 on the bridge rather than the original Mississippi Queen P90s. not sure if Chrome Fuzz is in the rig for this leg, but theoretically she also had potential to be used here in place of the Mirror, so another happy slight surprise there for Mirror enjoyers. it really is another special little joy to see and hear Plug in Baby with such an iconic guitar, and especially when we get to play call and response with the fuzz factory!
used for: PIB
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#2 Chrome Whammy 2.0
now i know it seems like an odd choice to put her here especially considering i had Chrome FR as my #10, but let me explain.
YMMFLIH is one of my favorites on WOTP so as it is, i was already losing it from the moment matt sat down to play the intro(WHICH IM CRAZY ABOUT). about halfway through the second verse, i regained enough mental consciousness to realize matt was using the new Manson Origin Etch pickups on the bridge!!! this was a huge surprise since MuseWiki isn't updated and i had been totally drooling over the pickups on instagram for weeks(months??)(<- still has never touched an electric guitar) so getting to see them in person and being used on stage was SO EXCITING!!! unfortunately by the time i realized, i wasn't able to get a clear picture of the bridge since matt was playing the final chorus. thus began the search for my new white whale.
after the concert, i scoured my pictures and videos for a shot of it, confident that i saw it during Halloween and on the Chrome Whammy. i looked at every picture i had, but found that all my pictures of the Chrome Whammy just had the MBK-2 humbucker on the bridge, so i thought maybe i made my usual mistake and thought it was Chrome when it was actually Matt Black. i checked my pictures of her too and it was the same so at that point i felt like i was going completely mental. i checked every video and picture from the Muse instagram with manic obsession and could only find a tiny glimpse of it in one of the mini clips from a concert reel.
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i went back to MuseWiki to see if i could find it there and thats when i realized. it wasn't Chrome Whammy. it was Chrome Whammy 2.0.
live reaction to this realization:
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in hindsight i should've realized the guitar matt was using for Halloween had a humbucker on the neck instead of a single coil Sustainiac which is a dead giveaway, hence the above reaction. the problem still remained though, i had no photographic evidence. though MuseWiki reminded me it was 2.0, it still says the bridge is a MBK-2 and the pictures remain un-updated. i had confirmed for now that i was not delusional, but i still didn't have a picture and i wanted so desperately to talk about it. but then my savior appeared right under my nose. my dear friend @domwhoreward found this picture from one of her shows and i was FINALLY VINDICATED!!! HERE SHE IS IN ALL HER GLORY!!!
used for: YMMFLIH
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anyway. that brings us to...
#1 HOLOFLAKE MY BELOVED
words cannot describe how absolutely insane i went when i saw her!!! Holoflake is my favorite guitar currently in use(though it's very close with the Black 7-String 2.0), i just love the glittery, glossy black finish so much, it's so pretty!! not only that, but the only song it's being used for this tour is MOTP, the one song i wanted to hear MOST out of all the songs on rotation and one of my favorite muse songs of all time!! it was such a personal moment for me because if they hadn't played MOTP, we wouldn't have gotten to see Holoflake at all. this was my most special moment from my show, i think the guy next to me probably wished i was dead though. this is once again a screenshot of my video since i spent most of it in a manic panic screaming crying and throwing up. its a miracle i was even still alive after that. or anyone within a 5ft radius.
used for: MOTP <3
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llycaons · 2 years
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and like....a huge part of wwx’s character/desires even though it rarely comes though in his actual actions (bc he’s driven by things other than what he personally wants) is how deeply he wants to be part of a home and to belong somewhere, and to belong with someone. and this arose naturally due to his childhood but it keeps getting reinforced throughout each tragedy he encounters in the story as well
orphaned at such a young age, naturally he clung to LP and to the family he found there and to the community of people there....and later he threw everything he had into making the BM hospitable and the wens made it more comfortable for him by building him a place that reminded him of his old home...he loves so fiercely and so selflessly and every single family he’s had and every single home he’s had he’s lost to violence and destruction and misfortune and cruelty and he’s been abandoned, relentlessly, again and again and again, left to pick up the pieces and expected to deal with it all alone, rarely with anyone to comfort or reassure him. all this as a teenager/very young adult. all this. the fight that killed jxz was terrible for so many reasons, but one of the smallest details was the most painful - jin ling’s bracelet being destroyed, wwx being told you can never have this, you don’t belong with them. no wonder he was moved to tears when jiang yanli stepped in front of him to defend him to the jins. no wonder he took the estrangement with the jiangs so poorly. no wonder he craves returning to LP long after he believes it to be impossible
and that’s (one of the reasons) why lwj simply standing beside him and vowing to help him postres is so important to him. even if he can’t articulate it, even if he’s too used to solitude not to deny himself it out of habit. there’s a lot of things he wants but this reassurance from lwj satisfied a very deep need he’s had for a long time. to belong with someone, to be supported, to be able to rely on someone else and not do everything alone. something this basic, this foundational to him that he craves even as he reflexively rejects it
I do think he needed that journey at the end of the show but I also think once he’s done with it he’ll never want to be alone for that long again. I think postcanon wwx wants stability. a home. to belong to a place and to a community, and most importantly, to belong with a person, a partner who’s on his side. and I don’t know if that place will be CR but that person will definitely be lwj
#I didn;t know how to end this I started tearing up because I love him so bad and his story hurts so much#he's everything to me <3#I want him to reconcile w his brother...I want him to spend time with jin ling....I want him to hang out with the wens...#I want him to be a very cherished and fulfilled and well-fed husband and I want him to go home to a place he knows will welcome him#I want him to be protected and defended by the people around him!! and not just lan teenagers!!!#I WANT HIM TO PROCESS HIS TRAUMA INSTEAD OF TRYING TO IGNORE IT!!!!#trying to move past it is great except he won't even dwell on it enough for that to be possible#he could use a little wallowing. maybe he needs to get it out#I feel like he's been unable to grieve for anyone since his parents died bc it wasn't his right or because#other people were more important and had to be prioritized or something#it's a particular cruelty that I don't think any other character is subjected to#I want HIM to be prioritized for once!! I want him to take care of himself and be talen care of!!#I want him to be able to grieve! he has like one scene w jyl but that's IT!!!#I want him to be able to express himself and know he won't be punished for it! I want him not to feel guilty about receiving affection!#<- when I get really into it I start channeling the spirit of lwj. but I can't help it he stresses me out so much and I love him to death#nobody ever sat down and said 'wow the way the jiang parents treated you while send you all away during the attack was really messed up#and its not true it wasn't your fault and you should have been protected' BUT NOBODY WILL. because he won't TELL anyone about it and jc#probably didn't even register since he was in a nightmare of his own#like I know jc and wwx love each other but jc does not have the emotional capacity to be who wwx needs....not even that it's a failing#on jc's part it's just too much of an emotional burden and he's not used to needing to handle it bc wwx lies about it#jc is not. suited for taking care of people to put it lightly. he tries. he does love. but he's...continuously led by his own needs/wants#and he seems to find it difficult to empathize with or prioritize others#and even when he does it's very. rough. agressive. I see glimmers of hope for the future in the final scene. he smiled!!!#but the way he;s been so far#which makes it nightmarishly difficult to maintain or create a relationship w him. even his siblings found it hard/draining#except jyl ig bc shes an ANGEL but if that was my brother. god id be tired all day#cql txp
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I know I'm not the best at managing my emotions and I've bitched about people plenty in my time but it still always catches me off guard when my coworkers talk incredibly nastily about someone else in the office with what seems like reckless abandon, like.
Oh, you. You don't? Try and keep this to yourself? You don't consider this frustration a private thought? You just. Let these thoughts out, in the open, often to me specifically???
Can't quite tell if it's the eldest daughter thing that makes people vent to me or if I just have the Vibe that calls people who want to complain
Very odd. And not pleasant.
#catfish speaks#idk if this is something other people experience a lot#its not like oh everyone vents to me all the time#cos its not that#my actual friendships are based on open communication and if we vent its met with a degree of compassion and consent#like yeah sometimes we forget to ask but most of the time its a 'sorry i forgot to ask' 'no its ok it sounds like it sucks' thing#the important thing is that i care about these peoples frustrations and want to listen and help#with my coworkers its like. i dont know you that well. i didnt even know this was a frustration#and idk did i miss a cue they gave me that signalled they consider me safe to vent to?#cos if that was the case - i feel like im being dumped on but they probably see me as a safe person#and that mismatch isnt anyones fault but i think im the only one realising its a mismatch at all#cos when people do this it makes me uncomfortable#i personally dont want to bitch about the other people in the office#i like them. yeah they can get annoying. so does everyone. so do i.#it feels cruel to speak nastily about them while they're not there with whay feels to me like unjustified anger#but then the people venting may be seeing me as a safe person who they just want to listen to their troubles#and i understand that and empathise with that - everyone wants that!#i jusy dont understand that that is the transaction we're entering until it's actually happening#at which point i am unprepared and unresponsive#i don't want to agree with the bitching i am hearing. but i don't want to deny them their voice.#im also the worst at standing up and disagreeing with someonr especially if theyre upset#so i just noncomittally agree and dont really offer much until they stop talking to me#which. obviously doesnt solve the problem and potentially leaves a broken trust between us#WHICH WAS UNSPOKEN AND ASSUMED THE ENTIRE FRICKIN TIME#its. god.#i dont understand othr people i really don't#anyway. if this resonates pls let me know I'm so curious
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csuitebitches · 8 months
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How to Wake Up Early
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I always wanted to be one of those girls who would wake up early, go for a run and be super productive with their mornings. The issue is - i really love sleep. Every time i would start a routine, i would eventually fail. I would wake up to turn the alarm off, think to myself “5 mins more” and boom- it’s suddenly 8:30 am and i need to leave for work in less than 1 hour.
Two videos on YouTube really changed my mind. One was Andrew Huberman’s, and the other was Jihyo, a k-pop star.
I came across Andrew Huberman’s video about dopamine, and somehow, it helped me to understand why the difficulty waking up early is so important. Now I’m no expert of neuroscience, but let me explain to the best of my abilities.
Dopamine is essentially the build up to the reward; it is not the reward. It is the satisfaction and happiness you feel (when your body releases), after you have achieved something that was painful/ required you to struggle a bit. In order to receive this reward, you have to feel pain, because pain and satisfaction are directly related to each other. Satisfaction without pain is useless and does nothing for you essentially.
That got me wondering: for me, waking up early is difficult. It’s painful. I dont want to do it. But if I do it, its my first win of the day. It’s the first challenge I have overcome of that day, and I always do feel amazing after. The dopamine release after the struggle of waking up and winning the battle of not going back to sleep is definitely there. I feel more confident because a) I have done the “right” thing b) selfishly, i can do something so simple that a lot of people struggle with c) it weirdly makes me feel more confident and like I’m doing the first step of being an adult right.
Jihyo’s video was quite random - she did some show where it shows her daily life when she’s not working. Parts of it made me feel like she’s unable to just relax with herself (probably because her body and mind are so used to chaos, performing, her girl group living together for so many years) so she busies herself a lot. I took the positives from the video; she’s extremely disciplined which I admired, she gets her chores done, she’s good at ensuring that her space is truly her space.
So I decided to build a relatively foolproof routine; but mind you, it does require quite a bit of willpower.
I’ve developed a habit of waking of waking up at 5 am. I head straight for a 30-45 minute meditation and then at least an hour long workout. I stack my habits that way; right after meditation, I put on my running shoes. I used to really struggle with waking up, even if I had to wake up late. This is the strategy that worked me, see if it works for you.
1. Reset your space the night before
This makes you feel less stressed in the morning and also genuinely makes you feel like you have your shit together. Put your clothes away, keep your bag in its place, clean up your desk, reorganise your make up and skin care products. You’re going to go to sleep and wake up to a clean space.
Make sure you define both your bedtime and wake up time. My bedtime is 9:30 pm - so i manage my chores, reading, dinner, everything around that.
2. Early dinner
I’ve noticed that early dinners help me sleep better. I’ve built the habit of casually walking for 25-30 minutes post dinner (not right after eating, after about 15 mins). I’m not walking fast to a point where I’m sweating and puffing, I’m casually strolling outside. During this time, I don’t listen to music, interact with anyone or my phone. I use this time to connect with myself and think about whatever I feel like.
3. No devices before sleeping
I don’t want to stimulate myself before sleeping, so I prefer reading before bed. If you don’t like reading, you can instead do your skincare, maybe revise some physical study notes, etc.
4. Using Alarmy app
This app is torture and I swear by it. This little thing makes you a solve a challenge of your choice in order to make the alarm stop, like math problems, puzzles, etc. I chose 5 math problems.
5. Keep your phone across the room
Don’t charge it near your reach. Keep it as away from you as possible.
6. Stand for two minutes after shutting off the alarm
Don’t allow yourself to snooze, or go back to bed. This is the part that really requires you to tell yourself: “i am not going back to sleep. I’m going to wake up and do the things I have to do for my own benefit.” Remember - the states of heaven and hell are not outside of you, they’re inside you. They are mental states. You have to fight with your lazy demon and tell him/her/whoever that NO; we are NOT going back to bed.
I charge my phone across the room so that forces me to walk first thing in the morning. To stop myself from going back to sleep, after i have shut the alarm off, i just stand for 2 minutes. I dont sit, or go back to bed. I stand and tell myself, we’re doing this. We’re going to wake up and have an amazing day.
Your mind is like a child with tantrums and mood swings. Your rational self has to discipline your mind the way a parent would to a child.
7. Turn a small light on
Not something that is jarring or overwhelming, but enough to help you start waking up. I turn my phone’s flashlight on and keep it on my desk.
8. Be consistent, even on weekends
The biggest mistake you can make is not being consistent. Your body doesnt recognise weekends, your mind does. Your body doesn’t know that tomorrow is Monday, so its time to wake up early. By staying consistent (yes, I wake up at 5 am on weekends too), it allows my body to develop its own body clock and not wrecking the system I’ve kept in place.
What do I do if I have a late night?
It really depends. Let’s say I come home relatively early (+2 hours around my bedtime) around 11 pm, and im in bed by 11:30. I’ll wake up somewhere close to 5 am, like 6 am instead. The next day I ensure I’m in bed by the bedtime I’ve kept for myself and wake up at 5 am again.
If I come home really late, like 3 am - i keep my alarm exactly 8 hours from that time. I need to get sleep, but oversleeping is an issue and that wont allow me to wake up early the next day. I want to get enough sleep where im rested for the day, but not excessively. Unfortunately, sleeping so late would definitely mean that i wont be able to fall asleep at my dot 9:30 pm bedtime, but i turn the lights off and get ready to sleep by then anyway, and mentally prepare for my 5 am wake up call.
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lovebugism · 1 month
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u said 2 do ur worst for shy!r so…. steve and reader go to the hawkins snowball dance and a slow song comes on and its a uber romantic song (i’m talking taylor swift type romance) and steve ofc asks r to dance… she’s super shy so she keeps looking at the floor but then steve does the thing where you lift the other persons chin up so they’re looking into ur eyes… if u wanna elaborate on this :)
i changed this up a wee bit, but i hope u like it! — when steve is finally crowned prom king, all he can think about is getting a dance with his (sorta) secret girlfriend (shy!fem!r, hurt/comfort, 1.2k)
Steve abandons his crown and scepter somewhere between the bleachers and the snack table. The thought of finding you is far more important than the chunks of plastic they give him. 
The cold breeze of the early evening cools his warm cheeks, flushed red from the adrenaline and the alcohol. He finds you sitting on the wooden bench outside the gymnasium, pretty and all alone. The skirt of your fairy-tale dress billows around your calves. Elbows digging into your thighs, you prop your chin on your fists and pout softly beneath the pale moonlight. 
You’re the prettiest thing Steve’s ever seen. The saddest, too, maybe.
“Been looking for you,” he says to announce his presence. The lopsided smile on his face is audible. You know it’s dancing on his pink mouth before you ever turn around to face him. 
He’s a pretty thing in a sleek tux. Boyishly handsome. Sort of like he’s playing dress-up. The thought almost makes you smile.
“Sorry,” you apologize in a mousy voice, blinking up at him with sparkly, made-up eyes when he looms over you. “It got… really loud in there…”
“Well, Tommy spiked the punch, so… It was kinda inevitable,” Steve jokes with a lazy shrug, even though he isn’t really joking. 
He watched the idiot steal his dad’s best liquor from the high-up cabinet two hours ago. The Hawkins High class of ’85 got drunk on it in record time. The school pulses with life accordingly. The brick behind you threatens to shake with it.
Your nose scrunches. “Is that why it tasted like gasoline?”
“Probably,” Steve grins.
He huffs and sits at the spare spot next to you. The old bench creaks in protest. He takes his first good breath all night when he’s finally alone with you. The fresh air and your perfume fill his lungs, smoother than silk. There’s a subtle euphoria and a distant nostalgia between it all. 
He’s spent years chasing this feeling. He thought maybe being crowned prom king would solve all his problems. Spoiler alert: it didn’t. ‘Cause you did.
“You coming back inside?”
Your lips purse to the side of your mouth as you ponder the question. “I don’t know… Probably not.”
Steve’s freshly shaven face swirls with visible confusion. He loves a party — especially when he’s the life of it — so it’s hard for him to comprehend how other people don’t. Even though he knows, more than anyone else, that you’re made of something much more delicate than that.
“Why not?”
“Prom’s not really my scene, Steve,” you answer with a scoffed-out laugh.
He flashes you a crooked smile in return, painted silver in the moonlight. His cologne swaddles you in its musk when he leans over to nudge your shoulder. “You promised me a dance, remember?”
Your soft features harden into a frown. “Absolutely not.”
“Oh, c’mon! You know you wanna dance with me,” he protests through a poorly bitten-back laugh.
“Why?” you press, meeting his beam with a lighthearted scowl. “So all your friends can laugh at me?”
“Screw ‘em! They’re assholes— who cares?”
“I care. ‘Cause you’re not the one they’re laughing at, King Steve.”
You spit the stupid nickname with playful venom in your tone, but Steve can’t help but smile at it, anyway. He’s a week away from graduating, halfway employed, and Hawkins High’s reigning prom king. It’s all slightly maddening — especially now that he’s got you.
He wonders if you applauded when he won that stupid crown. If you laughed at him about it, or if you were strangely proud. He’ll ask you about it later. After he gets that dance.
“Let ‘em laugh,” he shrugs.
You shake your head, averting your gaze with a sad smile. You wish it were that easy. 
“You don’t know what it’s like,” you tell him as the heavy bass inside the school starts to slow. Through the high-up frosted windows, you hear Girls on Film fade into Never Tear Us Apart. 
“Sorry for wanting to dance with my girlfriend,” he teases to ease the tension. It comes out more serious than he intended, though, ‘cause he is sort of sorry. Nothing about your two worlds exactly meshes — yet here he is, still hopelessly trying to tangle them together.
You know this, so you sigh. “Sorry for not being prom queen,” you joke back, only partly serious. You blink at him with a pair of twinkling eyes — slightly smudged with mascara. The sparkles of your eyeshadow glint when they catch the moonlight. 
“Don’t want you to be prom queen,” Steve confesses softly, smiling at you somehow softer. “I like you the way you are right now.”
You get a warm, tingly feeling in your stomach. It wells up your chest and into your throat until you feel like you might cry. 
You roll your eyes at him when they start to burn, laughing softly to distract from the overwhelming feeling. Your gaze flits to the velvet night sky, speckled with twinkling stars, until you get the courage to look back at the boy beside you. His face glitters with something hopeful. 
You swallow hard and ask, “You still want that dance or what?”
Steve glows with a boyish excitement. “Yeah! Are you kidding? Of course, I do.”
“Out here, though,” you tell him when he rises from the bench.
He smiles at the stern look in your delicate eyes. “Why? You ashamed of me or somthin’?” he jokes, as if he wasn’t named just prom king.
You stand before him with your arms crossed over the pretty corset of your dress. You bite back a smile. “I just wanna spend time with my boyfriend without it being on the cover of The Weekly Streak tomorrow,” you confess.
“Fair enough,” Steve nods, smoothing his wide hands over your sides. 
Yours are much less confident. They tremble with a misplaced worry as they spread over his shoulders. Your fingers fidget on the satin lapels of his expensive suit. His longer ones guide you back and forth, swaying you gently to the slow beat of the muffled song.
—Don’t ask me, what you know is true…
Don’t have to tell you, I love your precious heart—
You get lost in it all before you mean to. The warmth of having him so close, swaddled in his big hands and deep cologne. 
His honeyed gaze hasn’t yet wavered from you, but you don’t have the heart to meet it. He’s looking at you like he loves you. Like you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. Like you’re the fucking prom queen. 
You don’t feel particularly deserving of any of it.
“Are you still having fun?” you ask with a scrunched nose, visibly riddled with feelings of inadequacy. You still haven’t quite figured out why he’d rather be out here with you than inside with everyone else — with Vicki Carmichael, the actual prom queen.
“Loads,” Steve answers without missing a beat. His hands squeeze reassuringly at your hips as he flashes you a crooked grin. “It’s not even a question, honestly. I’d choose you over those schmucks in there any day of the week.”
He nods his slicked-back hair to the pulsing brick a few feet away. A few gelled chestnut strands drape over his forehead. You fight the urge to push them back.
“Really?” you squeak with your pretty face, all dolled up, twisted with an innocent look of confusion.
You have no idea how beautiful you are, Steve thinks to himself.
“Yeah,” he nods, grinning wide and wearing all his adoration on his chiseled, golden face. He could hide it if he tried. “Tommy Hagan isn’t nearly as pretty to look at.”
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cripplecharacters · 2 months
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The Mask Trope, and Disfiguremisia in Media
[large text: The Mask Trope, and Disfiguremisia in Media]
If you followed this blog for more than like a week, you're probably familiar with “the mask trope” or at least with me complaining about it over and over in perpetuity. But why is it bad and why can't this dude shut up about it?
Let's start with who this trope applies to: characters with facial differences. There is some overlap with blind characters as well; think of the blindfold that is forced on a blind character for no reason. Here is a great explanation of it in this context by blindbeta. It's an excellent post in general, even if your character isn't blind or low vision you should read at least the last few paragraphs.
Here's a good ol’ tired link to what a facial difference is, but to put it simply:
If you have a character, who is a burn survivor or has scars, who wears a mask, this is exactly this trope.
The concept applies to other facial differences as well, but scars and burns are 99% of the representation and “representation” we get, so I'll be using these somewhat interchangeably here.
The mask can be exactly what you think, but it refers to any facial covering that doesn't have a medical purpose. So for example, a CPAP mask doesn't count for this trope, but a Magic Porcelain Mask absolutely does. Bandages do as well. If it covers the part of the face that is “different”, it can be a mask in the context used here.
Eye patches are on thin ice because while they do serve a medical purpose in real life, in 99.9% of media they are used for the same purpose as a mask. It's purely aesthetic.
With that out of the way, let's get into why this trope sucks and find its roots. Because every trope is just a symptom of something, really.
Roughly in order of the least to most important reasons...
Why It Sucks 
[large text: Why It Sucks]
It's overdone. As in — boring. You made your character visibly different, and now they're no longer that. What is the point? Just don't give them the damn scar if you're going to hide it. 
Zero connection with reality. No one does this. I don't even know how to elaborate on this. This doesn't represent anyone because no one does this.
Disability erasure. For the majority of characters with facial differences, their scars or burns somehow don't disable them physically, so the only thing left is the visible part… aaand the mask takes care of it too. Again, what's the point? If you want to make your disabled character abled, then just have them be abled. What is the point of "curing" them other than to make it completely pointless?
Making your readers with facial differences feel straight up bad. I'm gonna be honest! This hurts to see when it's all you get, over and over. Imagine there's this thing that everyone bullied you about, everyone still stares at, that is with you 24/7. Imagine you wanted to see something where people like you aren't treated like a freakshow. Somewhat unrealistic, but imagine that. That kind of world would only exist in fiction, right? So let's look into fiction- oh, none of the positive (or at least not "child-murderer evil") characters look like me. I mean they do, but they don't. They're forced to hide the one thing that connects us. I don't want to hide myself. I don't want to be told over and over that this is what people like me should do. That this is what other people expect so much that it's basically the default way a person with a facial difference can exist. I don't want this.
Perpetuating disfiguremisia. 
"Quick" Disfiguremisia Talk
[large text: "Quick" Disfiguremisia Talk]
It's quick when compared to my average facial difference discussion post, bear with me please.
Disfiguremisia; portmanteau of disfigure from “disfigurement” and -misia, Greek for hatred. 
Also known as discrimination of those mythical horrifically deformed people.
It shows up in fiction all the time; in-universe and in-narrative. Mask trope is one of the most common* representations of it, and it's also a trope that is gaining traction more and more, both in visual art and writing. This is a trope I particularly hate, because it's a blatant symptom of disfiguremisia. It's not hidden and it doesn't try to be. It's a painful remainder that I do not want nor need.
*most common is easily “evil disfigured villain”, just look at any horror media. But that's for another post, if ever.
When you put your character in a mask, it sends a clear message: in your story, facial differences aren't welcome. The world is hostile. Other characters are hostile. The author is, quite possibly, hostile. Maybe consciously, but almost always not, they just don't think that disfiguremisia means anything because it's the default setting. No one wants to see you because your face makes you gross and unsightly. If you have a burn; good luck, but we think you're too ugly to have a face. Have a scar? Too bad, now you don't. Get hidden.
Everything here is a decision that was made by the author. You are the one who makes the world. You are the person who decides if being disabled is acceptable or not there. The story doesn't have a mind of its own, you chose to make it disfiguremisic. 
It doesn't have to be.
Questions to Ask Yourself
[large text: Questions to Ask Yourself]
Since I started talking about facial differences on this blog, I have noticed a very specific trend in how facial differences are treated when compared to other disabilities. A lot of writers and artists are interested in worldbuilding where accessibility is considered, where disabled people are accepted, where neurodivergence is seen as an important part of the human experience, not something “other”. This is amazing, genuinely.
Yet, absolutely no one seems to be interested in a world that is anything but cruel to facial differences. There's no escapist fantasies for us.
You see this over and over, at some point it feels like the same story with different names attached.
The only way a character with a facial difference can exist is to hide it. Otherwise, they are shamed by society. Seen as something gross. I noticed that it really doesn't matter who the character is, facial difference is this great equalizer. Both ancient deities and talking forest cats get treated as the same brand of disgusting thing as long as they're scarred, as long as they had something explode in their face, as long as they've been cursed. They can be accomplished, they can be a badass, they can be the leader of the world, they can kill a dragon, but they cannot, under any circumstances, be allowed to peacefully exist with a facial difference. They have to hide it in the literal sense, or be made to feel that they should. Constantly ashamed, embarrassed that they dare to have a face.
Question one to ask yourself: why is disfiguremisia a part of your story?
I'm part of a few minority groups. I'm an immigrant, I'm disabled, I'm queer. I get enough shit in real life for this so I like to take a break once in a while. I love stories where transphobia isn't a thing. Where xenophobia doesn't come up. But my whole life, I can't seem to find stories that don't spew out disfiguremisia in one way or the other at the first possible opportunity.
Why is disfiguremisia a default part of your worldbuilding? Why can't it be left out? Why in societies with scarred saviors and warriors is there such intense disgust for them? Why can't anyone even just question why this is the state of the world?
Why is disfiguremisia normal in your story?
Question two: do you know enough about disfiguremisia to write about it?
Ask yourself, really. Do you? Writers sometimes ask if or how to portray ableism when they themselves aren't disabled, but no one bothers to wonder if maybe they aren't knowledgeable enough to make half their story about their POV character experiencing disfiguremisia. How much do you know, and from where? Have you read Mikaela Moody or any other advocates’ work around disfiguremisia? Do you understand the way it intersects; with being a trans woman, with being Black? What is your education on this topic?
And for USAmericans... do you know what "Ugly Laws" are, and when they ended?
Question three: what does your story associate with facial difference — and why?
If I had to guess; “shame”, “embarrassment”, “violence”, "disgust", “intimidation”, “trauma”, “guilt”, “evil”, “curse”, “discomfort”, “fear”, or similar would show up. 
Why doesn't it associate it with positive concepts? Why not “hope” or “love” or “pride” or “community”? Why not “soft” or “delicate”? Dare I say, “beauty” or “innocence”? Why not “blessing”? “Acceptance”?
Why not “normal”?
Question four: why did you make the character the way they are? 
Have you considered that there are other things than “horrifically burned for some moral failing” or “most traumatic scenario put to paper”? Why is it always “a tough character with a history of violence” and never “a Disfigured princess”? Why not “a loving parent” or “a fashionable girl”, instead of “the most unkind person you ever met” and “total badass who doesn’t care about anything - other than how scary their facial difference is to these poor ableds”? Don’t endlessly associate us with brutality and suffering. We aren’t violent or manipulative or physically strong or brash or bloodthirsty by default. We can be soft, and frail and gentle and kind - and we can still be proud and unashamed.
Question five: why is your character just… fine with all this?
Can’t they make a community with other people with facial differences and do something about this? Demand the right to exist as disabled and not have to hide their literal face? Why are they cool with being dehumanized and treated with such hatred? Especially if they fall into the "not so soft and kind" category that I just talked about, it seems obvious to me that they would be incredibly and loudly pissed off about being discriminated against over and over... Why can't your character, who is a subject of disfiguremisia, realize that maybe it's disfiguremisia that's the problem, and try to fix it?
Question six: why is your character wearing a mask? 
Usually, there's no reason. Most of the time the author hasn't considered that there even should be one, the character just wears a mask because that's what people with facial differences do in their mind. Most writers aren't interested in this kind of research or even considering it as a thing they should do. The community is unimportant to them, it's not like we are real people who read books. They think they understand, because to them it's not complex, it's not nuanced. It's ugly = bad. Why would you need a reason?
For cases where the reason is stated, I promise, I have heard of every single one. To quote, "to spare others from looking at them". I have read, "content warning: he has burn scars under the mask, he absolutely hates taking it off!", emphasis not mine. Because "he hates the way his skin looks", because "they care for their appearance a lot" (facial differences make you ugly, remember?). My favorite: "only has scars and the mask when he's a villain, not as a hero", just to subtly drive the point home. This isn't the extreme end of the spectrum. Now, imagine being a reader with a facial difference. This is your representation, sitting next to Freddy Krueger and Voldemort.
How do you feel?
F.A.Q. [frequently asked questions]
[large text: F.A.Q. [frequently asked questions]]
As in, answers and “answers” to common arguments or concerns. 
“Actually they want to hide their facial difference” - your character doesn’t have free will. You want them to hide it. Again; why.
“They are hiding it to be more inconspicuous!” - I get that there are elves in their world, but there’s no universe where wearing a mask with eye cutouts on the street is less noticeable than having a scar. Facial differences aren’t open wounds sprinkling with blood, in case that's not clear.
“It’s for other people's comfort” - why are other characters disfiguremisic to this extent? Are they forcing all minorities to stay hidden and out of sight too? That’s a horrible society to exist in.
“They are wearing it for Actual Practical Reason” - cool! I hope that this means you have other characters with facial differences that don’t wear it for any reason.
"It's the character's artistic expression" - I sure hope that there are abled characters with the same kind of expression then.
“They’re ashamed of their face” - and they never have any character development that would make that go away? That's just bad writing. Why are they ashamed in the first place? Why is shame the default stance to have about your own face in your story? I get that you think we should be ashamed and do these ridiculous things, but in real life we just live with it. 
"Now that you say that it is kinda messed up but I'm too far into the story please help" - here you go.
“[some variation of My Character is evil so it's fine/a killer so it fits/just too disgusting to show their disability” - this is the one of the only cases where I’m fine with disability erasure, actually. Please don’t make them have a facial difference. This is the type of harm that real life activists spend years and decades undoing. Disfiguremisia from horror movies released in the 70s is still relevant. It still affects people today.
"But [in-universe explanation why disfiguremisia is cool and fine actually]" - this changes nothing.
Closing Remarks
[large text: Closing Remarks]
I hope that this post explains my thoughts on facial difference representation better. It's a complicated topic, I get it. I'm also aware that this post might come off as harsh (?) but disfiguremisia shouldn't be treated lightly, it shouldn't be a prop. It's real world discrimination with a big chunk of its origins coming out of popular media.
With the asks that have been sent regarding facial differences, I realized that I probably haven't explained what the actual problems are well enough. It's not about some technical definition, or about weird in-universe explanations. It's about categorizing us as some apparently fundamentally different entity that can't possibly be kind and happy, about disfiguremisia so ingrained into our culture that it's apparently impossible to make a world without it; discrimination so deep that it can't be excised, only worked around. But you can get rid of it. You can just not have it there in the first place. Disfiguremisia isn't a fundamental part of how the world works; getting rid of it won't cause it to collapse. Don't portray discrimination as an integral, unquestionable part of the world that has to stay no matter what; whether it's ableism, transphobia, or Islamophobia or anything else. A world without discrimination can exist. If you can't imagine a world without disfiguremisia in fiction... that's bad. Sad, mostly. To me, at least.
Remember, that your readers aren't going to look at Character with a Scar #14673 and think "now I'm going to research how real life people with facial differences live." They won't, there's no inclination for them to do so. If you don't give them a reason, they won't magically start thinking critically about facial differences and disfiguremisia. People like their biases and they like to think that they understand.
And, even if you're explaining it over and over ;-) (winky face) there will still be people who are going to be actively resistant to giving a shit. To try and get the ones who are capable of caring about us, you, as the author, need to first understand disfiguremisia, study Face Equality, think of me as a human being with human emotions who doesn't want to see people like me treated like garbage in every piece of media I look at. There's a place and time for that media, and if you don't actually understand disfiguremisia, you will only perpetuate it; not "subvert" it, not "comment" on it.
I hope this helps :-) (smile emoji. for good measure)
Mod Sasza
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dixons-sunshine · 3 months
Text
You Are My Sunshine | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media
*GIF isn't mine*
Summary: Being pregnant was a challenge, and being pregnant in an apocalypse came with a whole set of challenges on its own. Luckily, you had Daryl to take care of you, even if he was sometimes a little bit overprotective.
Genre: Fluff
Era: Alexandria, post Saviour war, pre the building of the bridge.
Warnings: Swearing, probably other things I can't think of right now.
A/n: My requests are open for any TWD character if y'all wanna send any! Also, I don't really know if pregnant ladies not being allowed to lift heavy things is factual or not. I just remembered someone telling me once that it could be harmful for the unborn child, and I've seen it being mentioned in movies and shows before, so I went based off of that. If it isn't true, please pretend that it is for my sake lol 🥲. (This is so rushed. I'm sorry for the bad writing 😭)
“Daryl, I'm perfectly capable of carrying it myself, you know.”
“I know ya can, but it dun' mean ya have to. Ya need to take it easy.”
You rolled your eyes and shook your head, a small smile spreading over your face. “Dar, I have to do something. I can't let everyone else do everything while I sit on my ass all day.”
“Yer pregnant, I ain't lettin' ya overwork yerself. Anyone have a problem with tha', let me know and I'll handle 'em. I ain't lettin' anythin' happen to our baby jus' 'cause some people can't pick up the slack and ya have to do their work for 'em.”
“I highly doubt carrying one crate is gonna do anything,” you stated matter-of-factly, walking at a steady pace beside the archer while he was carrying the crate in question back to the pantry.
“Ain't riskin' it,” Daryl retorted with a sense of finality, pushing the crate onto one of the shelves before turning to you. He took a step towards you and placed a gentle hand on your growing bump, looking at you with a soft expression. “Ya and this baby, our baby, are the most important people in the world to me. I ain't lettin' anythin' happen to the two of ya. If tha' means carryin' a crate so tha' ya can rest or fightin' off a herd of walkers so tha' yer safe, so be it. I'd do anythin' for ya and our little one.”
You smiled softly at the archer you've grown to love above everything else. You leaned forward to press a quick, gentle peck on his cheek before leaning back, giggling at the bashful look and blush that coated Daryl's face from the small action. “Sorry,” you said with a light laugh, aware of his feelings of public displays of affection. “You're just too adorable sometimes, you know that?”
That elicited a scoff from Daryl. He withdrew his hand from your bump and stepped back, ducking his head down to let his hair hide the growing blush on his face. “I ain't adorable,” he retorted quietly.
“You are,” you responded with a light laugh. “There's nothing you can say that'll change my mind about that. You, Daryl Dixon, are adorable, sweet, caring and so much more. There honestly aren't enough adjectives in the dictionary to describe how perfect you are to me.”
Daryl scoffed again. He shook his head at you, but you could see his mouth twitch up into a small smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Nah,” he started, glancing at you through the hair that hung in front of his eyes. “Yer the perfect one. ‘M lucky to call ya mine.”
“Don't start with me, Dixon. We can go back and forth about who's more perfect all day,” you joked, successfully gaining a small chuckle from him in response.
“Alrigh’,” he started, taking a step forward to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “I ain't about to start an argument with the pregnant lady.”
“If that's the case, does that mean I can help out with the tasks around here?” you asked, batting your eyelashes up at him innocently.
Daryl scoffed and shook his head. “Nah, tha' I ain't lettin' happen. I was talkin' 'bout petty arguments. Ya need to take it easy and rest. Leave the work to the people who ain't got unborn babies in their bellies they have to worry 'bout.”
“Daryl—” you started, about to voice your protest, but the archer cut you off.
“None of tha',” he said with a shake of his head, his tone stern. “Ya remember the times ya wouldn't let me do much to help out when I was hurt? I could help jus' fine too, but ya were worried 'bout me and takin' care of me. Let me take care of ya now, alrigh'? Ya have more at stake here than tearin' a few stitches.”
You pondered over his words for a few moments, hesitantly nodding after a few seconds. “Alright,” you finally agreed with a small sigh. “I haven't really been getting much sleep these past few days. I guess I can go take a nap or something if that'll make you feel better.”
“Hey,” Daryl started, taking one of your hands in his. “This ain't because I think yer incapable to help out or somethin'. I know ya can, but I would feel better knowin' yer not accidentally overworking yerself. I've seen it happen before. Ya'd get so focused on a task and would overwork yerself without even knowin' it. I don't want tha' to happen to ya righ' now.”
“Okay,” you nodded, willing the feelings of being useless away at the archer's reassuring words, knowing he spoke nothing but the truth. “But the moment you guys desperately need an extra pair of hands, promise me you'll come get me?”
Daryl nodded half-heartedly, and you could tell that even if he promised he would, he probably wouldn't come get you. He'd put yours and your baby's safety above everything else, even at the cost of a few extra hours of work for him and the other Alexandrians.
You leaned up on your toes to press a feathery light kiss to his lips before withdrawing. You gave him a smile before turning to walk out of the pantry towards the home you shared with him. As soon as you reached the front door of your home and pushed inside, you shrugged off your jacket and kicked off your shoes, discarding them by the table next to the entrance. You looked at the expanse of the quiet house and sighed, knowing you'd be alone until the sun started to set.
Well, you thought to yourself, I might as well make the best of my time alone. You went towards the kitchen to get a glass of water before descending up the stairs towards your room. You changed into something more comfortable before settling down on the bed, grabbing the book you were busy reading and flipping to the page you were busy with. You absentmindedly placed one hand over your stomach, the other holding the book as your eyes started to trail over the words on the page.
After a while, the words on the page started to blur together. You blinked repeatedly, hoping to clear your vision, but to no avail. Your eyes fell closed on their own accord, and within a few moments, you were asleep.
The feeling of the bed dipping beside you awoke you from your slumber. You opened your eyes and brought one of your hands up to wipe the sleep out of your eyes. When your vision cleared, you locked eyes with Daryl, the man having a faint, soft smile on his face.
“Sorry. I didn't mean to wake ya,” he apologized, bringing a hand up to brush the stray hair back and away from your eyes.
“It's okay,” you reassured him, bringing yourself up to a sitting position. You grabbed the book that you had read before falling asleep and placed it on your bedside table, before shifting your attention back to the archer.
Daryl was seated on the edge of the bed, busy pulling his boots off of his feet. When he was done, he layed back against the headboard, bringing his legs up to rest on the bed. His shoulders were slightly slumped, his posture giving away how tired he was. You furrowed your eyebrows at that. The workload hadn't been that much that day, and as soon as the people were done they could return to their homes, so you couldn't understand why Daryl looked so tired. Unless...
“Daryl,” you said softly, instantly catching the archer's attention. “Did more work come in while I was here at home?” Daryl's silence was enough of an answer. “Daryl—”
“’S fine, nothin' we couldn't handle. Just some buildin' materials Maggie and the King sent us from their communities to fix up more houses. Rick wanted to get started on the repairs today, so Aaron and I got some people together to start.”
“Daryl,” you started, shaking your head. “I told you that if you needed an extra pair of hands to come and get me.”
“Nah, we were fine. Ya clearly needed the rest.”
“But—” you started to retort, but Daryl cut you off instantly.
“Michonne told me tha' really heavy liftin' ain't good fer a pregnant lady. Said it can hurt the baby, so I didn't want ya carryin' logs and other heavy materials around. The rest of us can handle tha'.”
“When did you talk to Michonne?” you asked skeptically, your eyes narrowing in suspicion.
A sheepish look graced Daryl's features. He avoided your gaze and instead focused his eyes on the bedsheets. “About a week after we found out tha' ya were pregnant,” he admitted, nervously chewing on his bottom lip. “I was askin' her and Carol wha' I could do to help make yer pregnancy easier, what would help with yer mornin' sickness and what ya should avoid doin', and she told me tha' ya needed to refrain from liftin' heavy things. Said it could harm the baby.”
“So that's why you've been so against me helping out around here?” you asked, earning a nod of confirmation from Daryl.
“Yeah. Most of the work we gotta do 'round here involves heavy liftin', and I didn't want ya accidentally hurtin' yourself or our little one because of it. Tha's why I've been so adamant about ya takin' it easy,” he confirmed, ducking his head in embarrassment. “I didn't wanna be overbearin', but ya really wanted to help out with everythin' and the thought of somethin' goin' wrong because of all the hard work we have to do was too much fer me to handle. ’M sorry.”
You gently grabbed Daryl's hand, bringing it up to softly kiss his knuckles. “Why are you sorry? For not wanting anything to happen to me or our baby? You don't have anything to apologize for. If anything, I should be apologizing.”
“Fer wha'?” Daryl asked confusedly, intertwining your fingers with his.
“For being so adamant about working. I just... I didn't want to feel useless. I didn't want to feel like a burden because I couldn't help out.”
Daryl's eyebrows furrowed, his lips pressing together tightly. “Yer not a burden. Dun' ever think tha'. Yer carryin' a life in yer belly, and tha's takin' up most of yer energy and time. If anybody has a problem with the fact tha' ya can't work as hard as ya used to fer the next few months because yer pregnant, let me know and I'll beat their ass.”
You smiled at him and pressed a kiss to his lips. When you pulled back, you could feel tears starting to form in your eyes. Daryl noticed it and frowned, concern lacing his voice.
“Wha's wrong?” he asked frantically, bringing his hands up to cup your cheeks gently. He wiped away the tears that fell with his thumb.
“Hormones,” you said simply, laughing through your tears. “I don't even really know why I'm crying.”
“C'mere,” Daryl said, wrapping his arms around you and guiding you to lay your head down on his chest. You shifted your body until your were comfortable, wrapping your arms around him as you listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Daryl's arms wrapped around you, one of his hands venturing down to your baby bump. He gently started to caress your stomach, his hand's soft movements making you sleepy almost instantly.
“’M sorry fer bein' so overprotective,” Daryl said after a few moments of silence, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head.
“And I'm sorry for being so stubborn. I promise I'll be more careful and take it easier from now on,” you promised, nuzzling your head deeper into his chest.
“Thank god,” he sighed in relief. “Any more of yer stubbornness and I would've been forced to lock ya in the house whenever their was work to do.”
You laughed and lightly hit one of his arms that were wrapped around you, eliciting a chuckle from the archer. “I love you,” you mumbled into his chest.
“I love ya too,” he responded, placing another kiss on your head. "Now get some more rest. I'll be righ' here when ya wake up.”
You nodded against his chest and closed your eyes, listening to his heartbeat, your own personal lullaby. As your eyes drifted closed for the second time that day, you swore you could hear Daryl start to hum a song. A song you've been singing to your baby in your stomach since you found out you were pregnant.
You are my sunshine.
A smile formed on your face as Daryl lowly continued to hum the song, his hand still gently caressing your stomach. With the gentle caress of his hand, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the song he was humming, you soon drifted into slumber, safe in your archer's arms.
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larluce · 4 months
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Arthur travels back in time to save Merlin (from becoming a tree) AU
LINKS TO THE OTHER PARTS OF THIS AU HERE: PART 1 , PART2 (You're here) , PART 3
The king of Camelot goes to visit his magic tree before his next battle. This isn't new. He always visits it. But it will be the last time he does it.
Arthur: (caressing the bark of the tree with a hand)It's finally time. I'm sorry it took so long. (sighs) And I'm sorry I have to do this.
He knows he's being selfish. Camelot is better than ever, his people is happy and yet he's going to war, risking this era of peace. A war he knows he won't come back from. But it's necessary.
Gwen: (arriving) Arthur...
Arthur: I won't change my mind, Guinivere
Gwen: I know. I just want to understand. Arthur, why? The price is too high and the chance it might work too slim. And even if it does work, you are risking that everything you know, everything you built will never happen.
Arthur: It's a risk I'm willing to take. I can prevent so many things from happening, not only Merlin's fate, but Gawain's, Elyan's, Lancelot's-
Gwen: Don't pretend you're not doing this just for him, Arthur, I'm not a fool.
Arthur: ...
Gwen: He wouldn't want you to do this. And you know it.
Arthur: Yeah, well, he didn't care about what I wanted when he made that stupid deal.
It's been ten years since Merlin saved his life and was cursed to be a tree forever as a payback. He was now a majestic beautiful tree in the royal garden and the most valuable national treasure in Camelot due to its magical properties: It could give fruits with the ability to cure all ills and the most serious wounds, but also could give ones with the most letal poison. Its wood was the finest. Once it let some branches fall for its king before an important battle and the weapons that were made with them are still as good as new to this day. Though Arthur did his part, he knows Camelot probably would not have obtained the title of the greatest, richest and most prosperous kingdom if it weren't for his Merlin.
However, not everything was sunshine and rainbows. Like every treasure it was also coveted by everyone who wanted to use it for their own selfish purposes. Kingdoms envious of his power sent spies to try to steal its fruits, its branches and even to try to cut it down to leave Camelot defenseless. Others even tried to invade Camelot just to posses the magic tree, but Camelot's army was the strongest in all Albion so they never could and soon they stopped trying.
There was a time they almost got too close though. Once Arthur found a man holding an ax stuck deep in Merlin's trunk. He has gone so mad with fury, he almost beat the man to death if it weren't because his knights stopped him before he made the final blow. He was still livid after that, but he let Gwen handle the man's trial, because he knew he wouldn't be reasonable in the state he was in. In the end the man was sentenced to beheading. It was what the law decreed since touching the King's tree was by law an act of treason. The king who sent the spy had to make a public apology and give monetary compensation to avoid a war. Arthur did make sure the spy's head was cut of with his own ax though. Later, when he was alone with his tree, Arthur cried because he almost lost Merlin again. The king apologised to him over and over again between sobs and cried until he fell asleep at the tree's roots.
It was then when it hit him. One day he would die and there won't be anyone to protect Merlin from greedy people who will only use his power for their own gains. Merlin would be at his new owner's mercy and the one after that, and the one after that, forever without being able to do anything about it. The mere thought made Arthur sick to his stomach.
No, he won't allow that to happen.
Gwen: (with teary eyes) Aren't we happy?
Arthur: Don't say that. You have always made me happy.
Gwen: (laughs weakely) But he made you happier, didn't he?
Arthur: ...
Gwen: You never told me. Which were Merlin's last words.
Arthur: I love you... he said I love you.
Gwen: Oh... (smiles) I get it now. Alright I'll help you. Just promise me something.
Arthur: Anything.
Gwen: Don't feel bad if you can't prevent other people from dying. In fact, you don't have to do it. Just save Merlin.
Arthur: But-
Gwen: No, you have done so much for this kingdom and sacrifice so much. (cradling his face) You owe us nothing and you owe me nothing, alright? Just be happy.
They hugged each other tightly and they share their last kiss and I love you before Arthur finally went to bloodiest battle he'll ever had in his life. And, after killing 100 hundred enemy soldiers with his blade, the king of Camelot died at the early age of forty.
Later Percival and Leon retrieve the king's corpse and bring it before their queen who doesn't share a tear despite being broken inside. She orders for his late husband to be buried next to his tree instead of burned in a pyre, proclaming that's what the king would have wanted. The real reason however is more complex than that.
The night after the funeral, she secretly brings the druids her husband consorted for years to the royal garden for the ritual to be made. Before the tree, as was planned, is the Ancient Round Table of the Ancient Kings.
Druid1: A sword with the blood of 300 hundred man.
Gwen: (gives excalibur to him)
Druid2: Three dragon scales.
Percival: (gives them to her)
Druid3: And the corpse of a king. We have everything.
Leon: Will this really work?
Druid1: This ritual had only worked once in the times of the ancient kings and only because it was done by three of the most powerful sorcerers of that time. We are not that powerful.
Druid2: However, we have a great magic source (she points the tree). So it might work.
It worked! That's Arthur's first thought when he opens his eyes again and finds himself in his room 20 years younger.
....
HIII!! First of all I want to thank you all for giving the first post so much love! I was truly shocked because I didn't think the AU was that good, so I'm really glad you liked it. I hope this kind of sequel/prequel? was of your liking too.
I don't think I'm going to make this a full fic yet, but I can make snippets like this about this AU until then.
What else would like to see happening in this AU? Let me know in the comments or reblogs ;)
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ode2rin · 1 year
Text
by design, you became mine
pairing. mikage reo x gn!reader
genre. fluff & highschool or teenage romance !
warnings/content. 3k+ wc | profanity | mentions of food | timeline is set before blue lock ! | reo and reader is in their sophomore year in highschool | reader is a bit mean to reo (not in an extreme way, just in a normal teenager-y way) and reo is a sore loser in love | and this is me trying the grumpy x sunshine (obv reo) trope ! | half-assed proofread btw | some parts might be ooc reo but it's fine hehe
summary: reo asks you to tutor him after failing an exam in which he oddly looks happy about
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“the teacher said i need to be tutored,” a voice tinged with amusement reached your ears.
looking up, you saw reo mikage standing right in front of you, his million-dollar smile lighting up his face, as he held out a math test paper marked with a big, bleeding red ‘F.’
and for someone who had just allegedly received the lowest score possible on such an important exam, he was definitely grinning a little too much.
“and why should that concern me?” you shot back, hoping to hide your indifference. 
your annoyance seeped into your words, not meant to sound rude, but you craved some peace during your lunch break. hunger gnawed at your stomach, and this interruption wasn't helping.
he shrugged casually, as if the situation were no big deal. if you had received such a grade, you would not be smiling right now, let alone treat this situation nonchalantly. “well, the teacher did mention i could ask anyone. and since you're undoubtedly one of the smartest in the class, it only makes sense to choose you, right?”
with sarcasm making its way to your tongue and translating to your voice, you retorted, “oh, is that so? do you find me worthy of your esteemed company, young master?”
as the son and sole heir of the mikage corp, reo was trained to be an exceptional conversationalist, and there had been only a few instances when he couldn't form a response right away. this one, however, might be the longest he got a cat to get his tongue. reo feels like he’s having a heartburn from your remark, it’s pathetic.
ever so impatient, you, who only wanted to get back to your lunch, beat him to a reply, saying, “what if i refuse?”
quickly recovering from the unexpected turn of events, reo let out a dramatic gasp, “do you not care about my future? what if i don't graduate on time and can't get a job?”
that must be the most bullshit reason you've ever heard from the heir of a business tycoon. you're pretty sure his future is much clearer than any blue sky. but sure, you can play along.
“fine.”
“really?” 
sensing an out-of-place joy in his tone, you raised a brow. was he that thrilled to be tutored?
“i'm sure. now, can i return to my lunch?”
reo's eyes widened a bit as he realized that he was interrupting your meal. hurriedly, he bid you goodbye with a smile.
even with your sarcastic retorts, he walked away, still smiling. his grin was a telltale sign of how much trouble you had just signed up for. 
stupid reo and his stupid, handsome smile.
smiling to yourself, you couldn't help but wonder how he managed to receive such a mark in the first place. you had known him since freshman year (it’s hard not to know him), and you knew that the mikage heir was a born genius. so, could this be a mishap? probably. oh well, he couldn't be so difficult to teach.
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you’re wrong.
reo mikage is the worst fucking student.
not only does he seem uninterested in your explanations, completely disregarding all the equations you painstakingly lay out for him, but he also has the audacity to stare at you the entire time.
with that shit-eating grin that never leaves his face.
sure, he's cute, but right now, he's nothing more than a damn thorn in your side.
“is there something on my face that bothers you this much, or do you simply have the attention span of a goldfish?” you said, frustration evident in your tone.
“you're just a bad teacher, i think,” he quips, smugness dripping from his words.
“and you're the worst student, i'm sure,” you fire back, refusing to let him have the upper hand.
“well, how about you give me an incentive?” reo suddenly exclaims, his excitement evident in his sparkling purple eyes.
“and now you're asking for more as if you're not already taking up too much of my time?” you reply sarcastically, but your words carry no venom.
“come on! if i get a high mark on the next exam, you'll give me your number!” he eagerly proposes, his enthusiasm contagious.
do all rich kids have the tendency to want mundane things? 
“what are you going to do with my number?”
“networking! it's a thing in my world. expanding social circles and all that,” he explains, trying his best to come up with excuses that sound remotely plausible.
reo, well aware of the fact that he can only fabricate bullshit excuses in your presence, hopes he's not being too obvious. unfortunately for him, you see right through it, but it doesn't bother you all that much.
“better show me that A+ then,” you challenge, your expectations clear.
oh, it’s on. he’s going to ace that exam, one way or another. not that it’s actually hard.
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mikage: hello y/n! mikage: do you have some notes from the discussion from yesterday? mikage: hello?
so much for networking.
mikage: and they finally read my messages! the crowd cheers!
what led to this moment is, once again, reo mikage standing in front of you, grinning from ear to ear, eagerly holding out an exam paper marked with what seems to be the biggest A+ you've ever seen.
that was three days ago, and sure enough, he got the incentive he asked for. and in those days, you damn sure experienced the ‘networking’ he speaks of with how often he texts you.
you: yeah, let me just take pictures of it to send you. mikage: NO you: ??? are you yelling at me mikage: i mean no, don’t take pictures of it. i’m a visual learner. i have to see your notes in person.
is he fucking serious right now?
you: and what do you suggest we do about that? it’s saturday, we won’t see each other until monday, genius. mikage: how about i’ll come to your house? you: how about you try asking nagi for notes instead?
after sending your last message, you put your phone down despite it continuously buzzing, signaling reo's discontent with your suggestion. you did a commendable job of ignoring him until he grew tired of sending unread messages and decided to call you instead.
“what?” you answered, picking up his persistent call.
“the probability of nagi having notes is lower than the probability of cows flying ten years from now!” he exclaimed, and begrudgingly, you admit he sure does have a point in that.
sighing into the phone, you reply, “you can't come here, it's a bit busy.”
“we'll meet up then! i can pick you up?” reo suggests eagerly. the ‘q’ in reo mikage sure does stand for ‘quitter’. 
“do you text and call everyone in your networking circle this much?” you ask, slightly amused.
“what do you mean? we're friends!” he protests.
“did i miss a few pages, young master, or did you get hit in the head with a soccer ball and become a bit delusional?” you tease, unable to resist.
“how about you stop being mean to me?” you could almost hear the pout and the mock hurt in his voice.
you can't, not when you get cute reactions from him in return.
you can't help but find his cute reactions entertaining, and you smile at the phone, even though he can't see it.
“i'll think about it,” you concede.
“okay, you have enough time to think about it while i'm on my way to you! bye, see you in a bit,” he says cheerfully before hanging up.
looking at the phone, you wonder when exactly you agreed to this.
stupid reo and his stupid persistence.
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reo is once again in front of you, a scene that has become quite familiar over the course of your friendship.
however, this time you find yourselves in a cozy cafe near your house instead of on the school premises. he’s sitting in front of you, skimming through your notes, probably visually learning, while you sip on the drink he insisted on ordering for you. you gave in, because reo is not a quitter of any sorts. fighting him on the bill is futile and definitely a waste of effort. 
“i’ll pay you back,” you state firmly.
“i asked you here, so i should pay,” reo insists.
“i’ll feel bad.”
“if that’s the case, i guess you can treat me next time?” he suggests with a playful smile.
“you practically dragged me here, and you're already talking about a ‘next time’? you're not being slick, reo mikage,” you retort, not letting him get away with his charm.
“a man could try…” he whispers, hiding his face behind your notes, although you can see his neck turning red.
shaking your head, you shift your attention to the busy street outside the cafe. however, your ears catch the faint hum of a familiar song coming from reo. you know that song — it has been stuck in your head since a famous girl group released their album.
unable to contain your amusement, you chuckle, causing reo to look at you with curious eyes.
still smiling brightly, you remark, “didn’t know you're a fan too,” and laugh once more.
reo, on the other hand, feels starstruck.
he made you laugh for the first time, and was it the prettiest sound he ever heard? it sure is. it feels as if his heart beats in harmony with the rhythm of your laughter. it takes his breath away and brings him back to the present, all at once. it's intoxicating in the best possible way.
once he gets home, he's going to memorize the discography of this girl group. nothing will stop him. he will hum every single one of their songs in your presence.
reo would do that and even more if it means hearing you laugh again. this shouldn't be the last time he gets to experience it.
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you had fun with reo last saturday. 
but right now? you sure don’t.
he’s avoiding you, like a fucking plague. and much to your chagrin, you miss having him around, despite his annoying antics. all with his stupid excuses and stupid grins.
he’s physically avoiding you, but you've noticed him stealing glances at you multiple times during this boring history class, his guilty expression not going unnoticed. it's time to put an end to this charade once and for all.
as soon as the bell rings, you quickly stand up and make your way towards reo before he can leave the classroom. looking around to ensure you're alone, you confront him.
“what’s wrong with you?” you demand.
“what do you mean?” reo feigns innocence.
“you’re avoiding me. you did something, didn’t you? did you spill something on the notes i lent you and you can't bring yourself to tell me?” you accuse, trying to get to the bottom of his strange behavior.
reo wishes it was just that. but it wasn't. it was much worse, to the point that even seishiro nagi called him out on it. and seishiro nagi? a man who couldn't care less about anyone because it's a hassle, calling someone out? you know you messed up if he does.
and reo believes he did.
“you're smiling at your phone too much, ‘s creeping me out,” nagi remarked, looming over reo’s phone.
reo shrugged, trying to hide his excitement. “stop being a hater, nagi.”
curiosity piqued, nagi caught a glimpse of your contact number on the screen. “oh? you finally made a move? about time.”
“i didn’t... they're tutoring me,” reo replied, a hint of sheepishness in his voice.
nagi raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “huh? for?”
“uh, i failed a math exam.”
“you?” nagi chuckled, finding the situation rather amusing. 
“okay, fine, the test paper wasn't mine or anyone’s.”
“normally, i won't give a damn, but tell me about it,” nagi said, genuinely interested.
it was an understatement to say that nagi was borderline amused after hearing reo's story, so amused that he had to unintentionally slap reo with the truth.
“basically, you tricked them. should’ve just said that.”
it's safe to assume that nagi's words had struck their way into reo's mind all throughout that day until now.
once again, and perhaps for the last time, reo stood in front of you. but this time, there was no smile on his lips nor a glint in his big purple eyes. he took a deep breath, gathering the courage to confess.
“no, i didn't spill anything on your notes. but i did something to you,” reo admitted, his voice trailing off. seeing your raised eyebrow, he continued, “i tricked you.”
“what?”
"i didn't fail any exam. i didn't need tutoring. no teacher told me to approach anyone. the test paper i showed you wasn't mine. i wasted your time, and i..." reo's voice faltered, barely above a whisper, “... tricked you, because i didn't know how to approach you after having liked you since first year.”
reo panned his eyes to the floor, unable to meet your gaze while his heart sank.
he hasn’t even started yet it's done. he should've come clean. he should've just told you he liked you since freshman year. he should've just asked for your number like a proper man. but he was so fucking shy, unbearable to think of being rejected by you. he could only think of coaxing you to talk to him.
and now his own foolishness was paying the price.
it's over. you and him are done for. he's not going to hear your laughter anymore. he won't ever receive a sarcastic retort again. all those moments of bliss, gone —
“i kinda know.”
what?
reo's eyes widened, and he lifted his gaze to meet yours. how?
“did you forget that the teacher congratulated the class for having good results on the exam you showed me? no one got a score below B+, reo. so imagine my surprise when you came, interrupting my lunch, showing me a paper with an f mark claiming you flunked it.”
god damn it, reo mikage.
it's either you're joking or reo just made the most foolish mistake known to mankind. and none of the former is evident in your face. 
he should really pay attention in class, not on your side profile from where he sits across you. 
a grave grave mistake. can the ground swallow him whole? or can someone shoot him —
no, actually, wait a damn minute.
it was as if all the clogs in reo's brain got a huge power-up as he realized something so spectacular.
“then why did you not say anything?”
you... from the start, could've just refused him. if you knew the entire time. so why did you agree to tutor him in the first place? 
perhaps…? no, reo didn't want to get his hopes up.
he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his nervousness evident in his fidgeting. it was as if he had been caught in a whirlwind of emotions, trying to make sense of it all. the weight of anticipation hung in the air as he waited for your response, his heart pounding in his chest.
and then, you smiled.
you and your stupidly bright smile that feels like a ray of light on a freezing cold skin that reo is having right now.
he really did not want to get his hopes up, but how in the hell would he do that when you just smiled at his question?
“what does that smile mean?”
“well, it means that maybe you're not the only scheming lovesick fool here, pretty boy.”
oh.
oh.
you knew it all along that he was scheming his way into your heart.
you knew the entire time.
and you let him.
what the fuck. reo was having a heartburn, literally, figuratively, and madly so. all because of you. 
reo snapped out of his thoughts when you waved a hand in his face, vying for his attention. you spoke, “is this everything you’re guilty about? i thought it was something grave. if you told me you spilled something on my notes, i would have started swinging at you, actually.” your laughter filled the room, lightening the tension.
the second time reo made you laugh was because of a scheme that he expected would end whatever beautiful thing you had between you two. not that he’s complaining.
“so you like me back?” reo finally gathered the courage to ask, his voice tinged with hope.
“if we get some food right now, i might answer that coherently. scheming or not, you really do have the habit of interrupting my lunch,” you playfully replied.
“i’d buy you the whole cafeteria if you answer me right now,” reo declared, a touch of desperation in his voice.
the ‘o’ in reo mikage sure stands for ‘overspending’, you’re convinced.
giving in to his request, you took three steps closer to him, barely a foot distance between you. softly, you declared, “yes, reo mikage, i like you too. but i must say, you, making me starve right now, is reducing your chances of being my actual boyfriend.”
“let’s get you some food.” reo said, holding your hand and leading you out of the room like he was on a mission. amused by his sudden swift pace, you let out a laugh.
and suddenly, all tension left reo’s body. his heart once again beat at a normal rhythm. that’s the third time reo made you laugh. surely, it’s one of many more to come.
a minute after walking side by side, you broke the serene silence surrounding you. “not gonna lie, the networking excuse is kind of funny.”
“but it worked. a win is a win,” reo smugly said, showing you your intertwined hands. “see? a win.”
you shook your head at his remarks. your stupid reo and his stupid scheme.
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note. hello lovely ppl ! thanks for keeping up w me this far and for following me! as a thanks, here’s a reo fic since i’m missing him so much and emma has been feeding me ideas abt him <3 this is actually the longest i’ve written (i’m so normal abt reo i swear), hope you like it! (btw it goes without saying that this fic, is in fact, another TS inspired hehe love lots!)
𓆩♡𓆪 for one of the best people i met here, @saetorinrin
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chatsukimi · 12 days
Text
ʀᴇɢʀᴇᴛ
featuring: jujutsusorcerer!nanami, curse!reader, angst, breaking up. synopsis: life is too short to hold yourself back. you force a certain uptight sorcerer to learn the hard way. masterlist
nanami likes to think he has no regrets. he tells the students that he'd never had a lover, not one that lasted very long anyway. he tells anyone who asked that he is too busy in his job to date.
too busy to date a normal person outside his job, he means.
in other words, nanami likes to forget he likes a curse.
you're sitting on his couch, folding his shirts fresh from the laundry. "kento-kun!"
nanami likes to think he turns away. likes to think he goes to the kitchen to prepare his dull blade to kill you, but, recently, he's learnt that he's a liar.
you tiptoe over, examining how he runs his knife under tap water to clean off the curse residue. you had reacted better than he thought you would when you learnt he exorcised curses, probably because you were a mediocre curse yourself, not involved in the grand scheme of things.
you peer curiously over his shoulder. "that's your weapon?"
he lifts it up purposefully close to show you, but instead of shrinking away, your hands attach to its sides, gracing the cloth gently.
"woah..."
he stills. when he begins chopping up the vegetables, you're right by his side, helping him cook with rapid skill.
"careful. don't add too much salt in," he says, an uneasy monotone gracing your ears.
he doesn't look at you.
you pause on the salt, staring at him. "is something wrong?"
a flashback zips through his head, of a dying colleague, of a growing curse. mostly holding himself back, nanami lets out a long exhale. he shakes his head.
"no. i'm alright."
the atmosphere is tense under your scrutiny, probably because, for you, he would taste better than any human dish might. truthfully speaking, you only eat his food out of politesse.
'liar,' you whisper into his ear, glaring at him with an infinite amount of human hurt. "don't lie to me."
you know as well as he does.
nanami likes to think his heart doesn't clench when you reach out to hold his hand, your skin that reminiscent of that terrifying rubber feel he's constantly associated with death. you pause when he flinches away.
"nanami?"
kill them. that's your job, it's what you must do. kill them.
he murmurs lowly, "i think it's time for you to leave."
you take a step back. he doesn't move. you wait for him to chase after you while receding from him, two steps at a time.
nanami likes to think he's a serious man. likes to think he knows what's right for him and others at the most important incidences. but strip away the guise of having it all together and he realises what's most human about him is slipping through between his fingers: you.
watching you, nanami cannot think.
he's stalking towards you towards the exit. you've turned your back on him. his heartbeat tremors.
"wait-"
your voice is empty when you respond- is this what he'll remember you by?
"what, nanami?"
would nanami force you to stay? he's always been selfish in keeping you at his place, treasuring the heartfelt words, midnight slow dances, pretending the outside world didn't exist. the world which draws a distinct line between humans and curses. good and evil. but now, now nanami has to choose.
"don't go." he croaks. pathetic.
you stand there, head lowered. "why? what even am i to you?"
curse or human?
the words taste bitter in his mouth, crawling to the tip of his tongue. speak! kento, what are you doing?! speak! and in the ideal world, he says them, right there, held in your molten gaze. those three words would have you rushing back into his arms, ready to start anew. it would read like a fairy-tale.
he would be happy.
yet earth is a hell that confines him. he cannot force himself to take another step forward. you cannot force yourself to take another step back.
this is what would've always happened.
in a split second decision, you put on your shoes.
"forget me, kento," you breathe. let's pretend this never happened. "i know you hate curses getting stronger."
you cross the threshold of his door. the fantasy dissipates.
when he opens the door again, nanami looks down the corridor of his apartment complex and sees no one.
not even the curse of regret.
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queen-shiba · 1 month
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OKAY OKAY I MIGHT BE ONTO SOMETHING HERE
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@killersweetie @fizzydreamz
I WANTED TO KNOW WHY AIS CALLS MC SPARROW AND I WAS LIKE
"Okay, so what does a Sparrow symbolize?"
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Y'ALL
"In conclusion, the sparrow is a beloved bird that has played an important role in culture and literature for centuries. Its symbolism has been used to represent themes such as love, loyalty, and hope, and it has been significant in religious contexts as a symbol of God's care for all creatures."
And even more than this.
I grabbed an article.
This makes me wonder what the dynamic between Ais and MC is supposed to be.
Ais said he found the nickname "Sparrow" to be more fitting.
Clearly the Sparrow is supposed to represent some form of remaining positive and persevering in the face of adversity. Perhaps this relates to keeping Ais grounded; maybe even helping him keep control of himself.
MC is a source of hope for Ais?
And if a Sparrow visits you, in many cultures it means protection and good luck.
Ais saw something in you that made him view you as that symbol. A symbol of good luck at the very least, and seeing how low his luck is, we can confirm he certainly needs it.
Now maybe, even if MC's luck isn't as good as it could be, MC is still luckier than anyone else there. MC lucks up a lot, and based on the implications that Ais brought MC to Kuras' clinic, he probably knows that. That's why he called them Sparrow. They were lucky enough to survive.
And if MC stays with him and chooses to help him, that would make MC his protective charm against Ocudeus and the Seaspring in a way, keeping him from losing himself. He has something else to focus on now, and someone to help him, and probably someone to return the favor for.
IT'S 4AM AND THE THOUGHTS PLAGUE ME I JUST ATE A SHIT TON OF ICE CREAM AND I'M READY TO KILL GOD
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kindestegg · 1 year
Text
The plush under Collector's bed: A totally necessary analysis, trust me
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So, as a recap of this scene, before King leaves to visit Eda and Lilith, Collector asks King if he could sleep with François that night.
King reminds Collector that only himself and Luz can hold François, and Collector obliges but asks that he at least leave François there to "watch over him", claiming he "doesn't like being alone".
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King does so, and Collector seems satisfied. It's very telling of Collector's development that they never touch François after this interaction, showing respect for King's boundaries.
... Except! This sweet little angel is actually a master trickster! A liar and a fiend!
He had a plush under his bed the whole time!!! In fact I'm pretty sure every shot of their little bedroom planet has the underside of Collector's bed obscured UNTIL King starts to leave and we pan to see the beds from an angle which reveals the plush!
You know what this means, right? Collector could have easily pulled his plush from under his bed and cuddled up with that if he hated sleeping alone so much, but he didn't. Why?
Well, I don't think he was lying about being lonely. Loneliness seems to be a prominent common theme for Collector, both declaring his loneliness back at the start of O' Titan, during a vulnerable moment where he didn't expect anyone to hear him, so he'd have no reason to lie there...
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And then also having this acknowledged by King in the current episode, who has been living with him for about two months now, so he would know Collector's state of mind better than most here.
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So... what gives? Was Collector really only out to force King to give François to him? Why?
Well, my current theory about this is what François means in this scenario: a connection to King. We know François is very important to King and King does not hide this when he expresses to Collector how he won't let them hold him.
To Collector, being able to sleep with François is the ultimate foolproof way to ensure King won't leave them. First, if King eventually lets them hold him, it signifies King would trust them enough with this and hold them to a regard as high as Luz, which we know Collector seems to be jealous of. I... just realized I should probably analyze that too, huh. Well, all in its due time.
And second, even if King won't allow them to hold François, but leaves them close to Collector in their room, that already acts as a guarantee. A guarantee that King will come back for François eventually, that King won't leave them to sleep alone the entire night.
Whatever the case, François is a symbol, a meter to test their closeness for Collector and King, and considering how many times Collector has lost people they considered friends before (whether those were real friends - in the case of the titan babies - or not - in the other collectors and Belos' case -) and have been double crossed by Belos, it's no wonder they have trust issues and want to make sure King does care about keeping them company.
So... that's it, then? He probably threw his original plush under the bed and then lied to King he lost it and is now constantly trying to get King to let him either hold François or at least keep him close to him as a connection between him and King?
Well... yeah, but if you'd allow me, I'd also like to talk a little on the symbology of the plush here. You see, while we can't make out the full of what the plush looks like, it appears to be some sort of canine with pointed ears and a poofy tail. Maybe it could be a titan, even a plush replica of King, but... I don't think so. There seems to be no stitching around the neck to signify it has a skull like titans do.
See, I think this is a fox plush. And why it is important in a metatextual sense that it is a fox requires a look into lots of different possibilities, each enriching the narrative in a different way.
For one, in popular folklore, foxes are seen as tricksters, lying and cheating their way into what's most convenient for them. Villain or hero, the fox is always winning people over through tricks.
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This would align with the very nature of the plush being thrown under Collector's bed: it calls back to the fact he's tricking King with this. And yes, while Collector does have his problem with "fibbers", I don't think he's above more harmless tricks, we've seen him joke around with King before, purposefully feigning ignorance to mess with him, and the very nature of how he splattered Belos was through him lying that he wasn't mad. He may dislike it when a major lie is told, but little lies and sarcasm are no stranger to him.
Another possible connotation is the fact that rabbits and foxes are naturally prey and predator. François is a rabbit, Collector's plush is a fox. King, the member of the species that was hunted by the collectors, holds the prey animal, while Collector holds the predator animal...
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The position of the plushes is also important here if we go with this interpretation: François is on top of King's bed, indicating he does not conceal he is the prey here and is well aware of this. He says so as much: "this whole time I was scared of making him mad". In general he behaves like a scared animal around Collector, despite their efforts to put them in equal grounds and the fact they have spent so long together and made considerable progress in their friendship.
Collector's fox on the other hand is under their bed, signifying Collector has concealed their fox, or maybe more appropriately, buried and left the fox behind. They may be part of the species that wiped out all the titans, the predators that so mercilessly hunted King's species as prey, but they want no part in this. Their backstory seems to involve wanting to play with titans and denouncing the other collectors after all, likely being bitter at them for ruining everything and hunting their new playmates to near extinction.
Alternative readings also include a few possible pop culture references. A possible one is the prominent role of the Fox in the Little Prince. While Hunter is the one who has been nicknamed "little prince" by Darius, Collector still seems more thematically similar to the character, being a child who came from space:
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The similarity also hands itself to the fact King does somewhat resemble a fox with his canine qualities and fluffy tail, and in the story, the Fox was one of the first friends the Little Prince makes on Earth, and the one to teach him how to approach someone who does not trust you yet, to "tame" them.
Yet another possible reference this could be is the Disney movie "The Fox and the Hound":
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Which seems like something I should frankly make a whole separate post comparing the eerie similarities it harbors to the current dynamic Collector and King hold. But to summarize, if you don't know the movie, it follows a hunting dog pup and a fox pup that become friends at a young age, and their friendship must overcome advertisities unique to their species.
If this is a reference to this particular movie, this once again has a different reading: Collector is clearly the hunting dog here, not the fox. For him to keep a fox under his bed would signify he wants to keep King close to him, safe under his bed and protected. This could even be a call back to the very last scene the titular fox and hound in the movie share: Copper, the hound, positions himself above the fallen Todd, the fox, protecting him. The plush being under the bed to mirror this would make sense.
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Whew! I think that's everything that I had in mind to comment on this particular tiny easter egg. Whatever meaning you take from this about Collector's mysterious plush, I hope I could at least inspire something in you!
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safety-pin-punk · 1 year
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hey queer nd teen here i've been really interested in punk culture and the message drives me to tears but i'm scared of being called a poser because i feel like a coward
i hate cops and i think they should fucking die and the government is fucked and we have to look after each other. but i feel backed into a corner because i'm surrounded by family who would laugh at me and just wouldn't understand and i don't feel like i can Handle it but i Want to
as a shy and nonconfrontational teen with a shit ton of anxiety to boot i dunno. i admire brave hardcore punks who beat up cops and nazis but i Can't Be That
no need for a response but it would be nice
When I was a teen, I was told by my best friend that I could never be a punk. That I would never be a punk. But here I am. I was a shy quiet kid, and I’m still pretty quiet and prefer to avoid confrontations when I can. My point is, these things don’t prevent people from being a punk if its in their nature
Not all punks are the big tough punks who can physically fight those fights. Though they are a very important part of our community. But we also have plenty of disabled, neurodivergent, and chronically ill people who are just as punk, and even people who are just not into violence. They are advocates, they are researchers, they are community care takers. Being a punk isnt all about fighting evil. I actually think thats not the best way to look at it at all. Being punk is about caring for your community. And while ‘fighting evil’ is a part of it, there are a lot more things that entails.
If you truly want to be a punk, it seems like you are already going down the right path. You alluded to a not so great home life where it might not be the best idea to dress in alternative styles. You could always start with smaller, more subtle things. Or you can just wait until you can move out to start exploring that. Remember, being punk is more than just an aesthetic, and while the aesthetic may look cool, it is by no means a requirement to be a punk (honestly half the time I run around it cowboy boots and a flannel - in the winter I usually add the hat too)
You are a teen still. Growing and learning about yourself and the world around you. And so are your peers. Any teen who calls you a poser is being a jerk and doesn’t know all that much about the scene. Any grown adult that calls you a poser is probably a poser themselves who refuses to acknowledge that not every person comes from the same background. But I also feel like it’s important to tell you that what anyone else says shouldnt matter that much. Even if it feels like it does, if you let their words matter to you, you are giving them all the control.
Its okay to be young and not know a lot. Its okay to not dress alternative for any number of reasons. Its okay to not feel like you could go off and fight bad people. None of those things make you a poser.
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hikari-ni-naritai · 3 months
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Saw a post a while back that pissed me off but I didn't want to complain about it bc my beloved mutuals were gleefully rbing it and I didn't want to offend op but it's been long enough and I'm done holding my tongue. The post was like "everyone says they'd hyperfixate on learning magic if it was real but I know u wouldn't bc it would be too much math for you and you don't care about math". I have many problems with this.
One, and perhaps the most obvious, if doing math would let me hurl lightning from my fingertips, I would be doing math. The main reason I am not doing math right now is bc it does not let me conjure lightning and doing math for its own sake does not interest me. The idea that the addition of a reward for one's effort could not possibly make anyone interested in putting forth effort goes against the entire history of human behavior.
Two, why is it assumed that magic would be math based? Because computers are math based and that's the closest thing we have to magic? Because technology is math based, and sufficiently advanced technology is indiscernible from magic? Foolish. Magic is a thing that, crucially, is not real. There are depictions of magic in art that depict a mathematical process, but this is not the only depiction of magic! There's component-based magic, chemistry-based magic, geometry-based magic, emotional-based magic, magic granted by higher powers, magic borrowed from the earth itself, spirit magic, inborn magic, somatic magic, verbal magic, programming magic, and frankly many others! The idea that any real application of magic would necessarily be math-based is nothing more than reckless guesswork by a mathematician.
AND THIRD, and this is important, even if it IS math based, the human brain is optimized for doing extremely complex math for basically everything we do. Consider the math involved in determining distance via parallax. If you showed me two pictures taken from slightly different angles, I couldn't tell you what equations I'd need to run to determine how far away the thing in the image is, but our eyes do that every single day without even thinking about it. Consider the physics involved with just walking down an empty hallway. We can't walk when we're born, but we learn to walk without any knowledge of physics or math. Consider the lightning fast calculations a baseball player must make to hit a pitch flying faster than a car. Do you think mickey mantle was doing equations in his head at bat? The human brain evolved to do applied mathematics by feel. Yes, it would probably take very advanced math skills to discover and create complex spells, but learning a simple cantrip? You could teach your 3 year old niece at the family barbecue as a prank on your brother who now has to deal with a toddler who can cast shocking grasp at will.
Anyway the point is that I would fucking learn to do magic nobody would be able to stop me.
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theminecraftbee · 10 months
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So, here's the thing:
Tango knows that Zedaph is this close to staging an intervention.
He lies against the wiring for Decked Out and stares at the ceiling. He should probably be more concerned about that. Early-season Tango would be concerned about that; a situation getting bad enough that Zedaph, of all people, is ready to stage an intervention is normally a sign it's gotten pretty dang bad. But he's close. He's so close. And it's not like he's worried, not anymore.
He'd been worried, once? Like, he'd been scared, at some point of what the Frozen Citadel was starting to do to him. But now that he's there--
If he's asked, Tango will say it's mutualism, and not elaborate, because if anyone stages enough of an intervention to stop Decked Out from finishing what it's started, he's probably going to scream. He's probably going to always wonder. Worst of all, he won't finish the game on time. So like, so what if it's eating him a little? Or a lot? Or basically completely, given that he's pretty sure the damage is irreversible at this point?
Anyway, it doesn't matter. Start of the season Tango probably would care more, but like, it's mutual. Decked Out gets to eat Tango. Use him as an appropriate game piece. Sometimes as a processor. To do repairs. Whatever. It's important for the whole process. And Tango gets a sick game. Which, for some, sounds like an absurd trade-off, but it's not just the game, okay?
It's not just--
If it were just "I need to let my accidentally very sentient and very large base eat me to finish the game", he might do it? But he wouldn't, like, be actively conspiring to hide the fact that he's starting to be physically incapable of breathing like, normal oxygen and stuff. He wouldn't be conspiring to hide just how literal the shop item allowing you to control the gamemaster is. He wouldn't be trying to hide how close he is to just--being another part of Decked Out. Not being a "Tango" as an individual, but being a part of the machine. Basically a really fancy redstone component.
If it were just "he's really proud and he'd be sad if it took longer", he wouldn't have hung a sheep on the outside of the building to make sure some part of Decked Out knows that Zedaph is its friend, once there isn't a Tango to remind it of that properly. He would have asked Zedaph to actually do that intervention he's planning.
He didn't. He acted like he had several more weeks than he probably did. But it's fine. Decked Out ate the fear, anyway, so he can't feel it, and whatever sense of desire to like, not be redstone component was probably eaten also, and. And.
He's not sure how to describe it in a way that doesn't make him sound insane, but--
It's so close. Decked Out is so close to eating him completely. And that should be terrifying, if that weren't the first thing that got dissolved away, if he hadn't been scared since forever. Maybe, somewhere, there's part of him that is scared. There's a lot of him that knows he should be.
But those moments, the ones he's having more and more, where he forgets he's Tango. Where he forgets he's anything but part of the machine. And he's part of something big, and great, and he has a specific use, and he's aware for all of it but not aware of being himself, and he can feel exactly how he's important to the great machine and he does his job and absolutely everything else fades away entirely and he is the Game Master and even that's not an individual identity it's part of a whole it's part of something beautiful it's part of something so, so alive while not being alive at all and, and then--and then he's not done being eaten yet. And the Tango comes in. The fear, the insecurity, the, the flaws.
And he'd just lie there, and he'd feel it. The almost-just-a-part. The sense of just--being, and not being anyone in particular, but being. The lack of self. He'd feel the voltage from the redstone wires and try to capture it again, and be unable to, not on his own.
Not while he's left as Tango, at least a little bit uneaten.
So. Uh. He told you he didn't know how to describe it without sounding insane. But he'll never forgive himself. Never forgive himself if he doesn't find out what happens when it's done. What it's like to just--be a part of Decked Out and nothing else. What it feels like to give in completely.
Therefore. Zedaph. Intervention. Pretend he's better than he is so Zedaph doesn't do that. It shouldn't be long now. The amount of time he's aware and Tango is--less. The amount of fear is--it's entirely gone now. The amount he thinks "gee beginning of season Tango would say this is a bad plan" is almost zero.
The game is almost ready to open.
If he can just hold out that long, then there won't be anything anyone could do.
They'll be too busy having fun with the game, anyway. With any luck, no one will notice.
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hannahlovesluca · 7 months
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Hihihihihi K Anon here :DD
Feel free to do this last or put this one as the last in the row !!
Can i request Luxiem boys(+ Ver cause he's my pathetic boyfailure)'s reactions to finding out that their s/o has a naturally cold body temperature?Like you'd think they'd be warm from their personality but when you touch them it's just freezing cold and they just go (:
Anyways please take care of yourself,drink and eat enough and rest enough !! Your health is important pookie
-K Anon
Luxiem + Ver with S/O Who has a Cold Body Temperature
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• before you guys had actually met up irl (met through NIJI) and you told him how cold your hands always were, he lowkey didnt believe you because you just have such a warm personality
• however, when you guys first get together irl, first thing he’s doing is holding your hand because he’s so smitten
• and then his eyes go wide and hes just like??
• even though you don’t actually feel cold, he’ll take both of your hands in his and try to warm them up
• he also lowkey likes it too because he definitely prefers to be cold when sleeping and when you guys are cuddling hes just 🥰🥰
• our boyfailure just loves u sm!!!
• i love ver but i’ll be honest idk too much about him so writing for him is xtra hard 😭😭
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• lets say you guys knew each other before niji
• maybe you went to the same high school and started dating then?
• anyway he genuinely worries for you, he does his research and its a pretty big sign for low iron so he’ll probably always ask if theres anything thats bothering you and you have to reassure him that its okay
• im sorry but he DEFINITELY blows on your hands softly to warm them up :((
• hes such a horndog but he can be so so soft and sweet
• and he knows how soft he is with you and isnt afraid to admit that he is!!
• he will NOT hide the fact that he loves you!!
• even if you’re not actually cold your skin just is, he’ll still tuck you in with extra blankets and make sure to cuddle the coldest parts of your body!!
• im sorry but he cracks a few jokes about you being elsa or some shit
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• he probably flinches the first time he feels how cold your hand is :((
• he prefers being cozy and warm so it’s a big adjustment for him but he’ll do ANYTHING for you!!!
• definitely teases you about it as long as he knows your comfortable with it, otherwise he wouldnt
• i watch mysta, but again, not one of my oshi’s so its somewhat hard to think of things to add but i swear im trying
• even after knowing about your body temperature, he still probably flinches sometimes :((
• poor baby loves you so much and he wants you to know that and he feels so fucking bad because he doesn’t think hes showing it enough
• apologizes to you repeatedly about it :(
• much like vox, he’ll definitely make sure you’re always covered up even if you’re not actually cold
• “mysta, im having a heat stroke..”
• “too bad.” *sticks tongue out at you*
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• GOLDEN RETRIEVER GIVES YOU HIS GLOVES
• “y/n, baby, are you okay? 🥺”
• looks at you exactly like that emoji
• holds your hands in his and probably presses them up against his chest for extra warmth 💟💟
• is the type to make you hot chocolate not only because it tastes good and you like it but because it’ll warm up your body
• hes so thorough with everything he does and remembers everything about you :((
• much like vox, he looks it up and once he sees that it could be something like low iron hes just like :0
• he hadnt even thought about that!!! what kind of a boyfriend was he!!!!
• ^ the best one ever
• HE LOVES TAKING WARM SHOWERS/BATHS WITH YOU
• im brain rotting i want to shower with him
• pls he deserves so much love how has he never had a gf anyone would be so lucky shouldve been me shouldve been me oh my god
• no parasocial
• anyways probably tells the lucubs and your fanbase about how cold you are just naturally and how hes worried, and when the clip gets shown to you youre just like 🥹🥹🥹
• “yeah, chat! Y/N is so cold, it kinda worries me. Apparently it can mean a lot of things and im scared they might have low iron or something..” *with a pout*
• and that was when they realized something was going on between you two
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• THE MAN OF SEX HIMSELF
• anyways, much like vox, he definitely blows softly on your hands with warm breath to warm them up im so :(
• he also, like luca, will probably get you gloves (he would lend you his but they wouldn’t fo much)
• he probably reads to you while holding your hand and will look at you now and then just to make sure you’re ACTUALLY not cold
• he worries so much about you and being an overthinker doesnt help his case
• i imagine he’ll probably breathe on your hands whilst singing to you softly and just cradling you in his arms
• the man wants nothing more than for you to be happy and healthy and and and and
• ugh he just wants you to have everything good in life because you deserve it and
• i could rant about this man for ages plz restrain me
• anyway if he catches you wearing the gloves he bought you his heart will explode because he got you those and its just so :))))))))
• yk that Harry Styles song “Falling” thats literally him with you thats him in a relationship i cant explain it i just
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• he also has a naturally cold body temp
• so the first time he holds your hands hes just :D
• much like ver, he prefers sleeping somewhat cold so when he cuddles you hes practically in heaven 🥰🥰
• his head buried in your chest while cuddling i cant
• brain is not functioning
• shu is just such a chill guy he wouldnt really have that much of a reaction 😭😭
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