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zhongrin · 1 year

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newton’s second law of motion

◇ characters ◇ al haitham (ft. kaveh, cyno, tighnari)

◇ tags ◇ divorced dad al haitham as your ex-hubby, possibly ooc al haitham (?), you have a daughter, al haitham pines on you badly, angst to fluff, crack, kaveh-cyno-tighnari support group ftw, brainrot format with a little fic

◇ a/n ◇ happy birthday you dolt (/aff). i didn't plan to post any birthday fic for him but this thought hit me as soon as i read that silly bday letter. this was supposed to be just a brainrot help-

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

divorced husband!al haitham who is hit by a revelation over the year he lived separated from you - that he had taken you for granted and he had driven you away by failing to communicate and appreciate you properly.

divorced husband!al haitham who receives a little package from you on his birthday; just a small, store-bought birthday cake. he's reminded of the biting words he said the year before, when he tasted the cake you made with your daughter. in hindsight, it was perfectly normal for a three-year-old to mistake salt for sugar. in hindsight, he should have known to hold his tongue. in hindsight, he could have done better than just stare as your daughter cried in your arms.

divorced husband!al haitham who knows that you were just being nice with all these small gestures. for updating him about how your daughter is doing in school every month. it was all a formality of sorts and it was an agreement you had when you broke your marriage. but he can't help the hope that sparked within his chest when he sees your handwriting and hears your voice on the rare meet-ups you organize.

divorced husband!al haitham who admits that you deserve someone better. who resolves to be someone better.

divorced husband!al haitham who picks up that parenting book he abandoned and buys new ones because four-year-olds are different from newborn babies. people stare at him in awe when he starts attending the parenting-themed seminars, and it's like he's back in his akademiya days, taking notes and analyzing research journals.

divorced husband!al haitham who, to his previous roommate's surprise, lets himself be dragged into the 'severely unproductive' weekly tcg game meeting. he silently sits and listens to cyno unconsciously bragging about the warm home he built with his spouse, tighnari proudly retelling story after story about collei taking the lead of the forest rangers, and kaveh gushing about the love of his life.

divorced husband!al haitham who, to everyone's shock, asks for their advice on how to rebuild what he's lost, who for once listens to kaveh as he guides him to emphatize more and shows him the values of white lies when used properly, as inefficient as he though it was. soon enough it turns into a full-on lecture at one corner of lambad's tavern - tighnari had brought out a whiteboard out of nowhere, and even cyno who was at first skeptical about giving him a second chance was animatedly giving his own two mora to avoid worsening the disaster that is the scribe's love life.

divorced husband!al haitham who picks up a new pen and delicately writes a letter with the ink of your favorite color, intending to ask you to meet at the library because he wanted to "further encourage our daughter's newly-found interest in reading". he's hoping it would show his sincerity (yes, he did listen when you absentmindedly told him about your daughter on the last update meeting) and imply that he wishes to make amends (because he remembers not taking much interest in the more 'trivial' things that concerns your daughter when he should have).

divorced husband!al haitham who does not understand why you didn't reply to him, and so he proceeds to recite the letter, word-by-word, to the curious table of the same friends from a week ago, their tcg match long forgotten. kaveh throws a deck of cards at him. cyno slumps back to his chair with a steely expression, arms crossed. tighnari sighs and bemoans about how al haitham is the worst student he's ever had thus far. kaveh rubs his face with his palms - "alright. okay. alright. look. clearly one lecture isn't enough. we could just. we could try again. hey, at least he tried!"

divorced husband!al haitham who wakes up the morning after because of his doorbell, with barely two hours of sleep, coffee-less (you used to make him coffee and he does not understand what he's missing because he could never make them taste the same), grumpy (he remembers the way you would laugh and boop his nose whenever he feels like this), darkened eye bags under his hazy green eyes (which you used to try and will away with a kiss; it never worked but he wishes you were there to do it still), opening the door of his abode (the house feels far too big without you) and promptly almost collapsing from shock at the sight.

it's you.

divorced husband!al haitham who fumbles with his words; his brain isn't working properly and his composure is nowhere in sight. you're holding your daughter's hand and you're looking at him from head to toe with a frown. he asks why you were here. you tell him icily that it was your scheduled date for the usual monthly update; you thought he would have appreciated you bringing your daughter this time. his brain stops. his heart swells. his chest feels warm.

divorced husband!al haitham who invites you in and blushes when you see the remnants of last night's "lectures". kaveh's silly flowchart ('when you should shut your mouth') is still present on the whiteboard. tighnari's books about child development created little towers around the coffee table. cyno's headpiece is still lying on the sofa. and his own copious notes are all over the place.

"what kind of.... project.... are you working on, exactly?"

his brain's broca's area must have been terribly damaged from all the 'scenario exercises' kaveh put him through last night, because what was supposed to be a 'pay no mind to it, it's merely a personal interest of mine' somehow turned into a sheepishly spoken: "i wanted to become a better partner and father."

and you must have thought he was crazy, too, with that look of utter shock on your face. al haitham decides to change the subject. he sees the way your daughter is eyeing the pantry - more specifically, the cabinet that used to store her snacks, and maybe it's all the books and seminars he attended but somehow he understands.

"have you... had breakfast?"

"..... no," your tone is cold and you avert your eyes. the implication is not lost on him. you had not planned to stay for long.

"i see. would you like to procure-" he pauses, gazes towards your daughter, remembering what he read - and he drops to his knees so he can be of a similar eye level with the young child. when he speaks next his tone is higher, softer, and you almost can't believe what you're witnessing, "-would you and mommy like to get some food with daddy?"

"..... yes."

his little angel's voice is barely above a whisper and slightly unsure, but it still makes a genuine smile spread onto his lips for the first time in...... what seemed like forever. he directs his gaze up towards you, like some kind of a lost puppy seeking permission from its owner. you throw one last glance at his notes and sigh before nodding stiffly.

"alright.... you look like you badly need coffee anyway."

divorced husband!al haitham who, despite the tiredness in his bones, readily escorts the two of you out of the house after quickly scribbling a note for the three guests sleeping on a pile in the guest room.

divorced husband!al haitham who asks his daughter about where she'd like to eat and agrees immediately upon her answer despite knowing that their destination would only serve that trashy coffee he loathes with his whole life (and when you ask him again whether he's really okay with her choice, he says yes even though he wanted to say no).

divorced husband!al haitham who asks you about the latest updates on your job and tells you that he thinks it's admirable, for you to balance caring for their child while also having such a stable career (you did not express the need to be getting constructive criticism on how to further improve your career and branch out your skills, so he decides to keep his mouth shut).

divorced husband!al haitham who stumbles, trips, and is still horribly clumsy as he paves a path back to walk beside you and your daughter. but he tries. and he hopes to spend his next birthday with you, your daughter, a kitchen that looked like an oven has exploded, and a deformed cake.

and as the front door closes, the three guests high-fives each other in a small circle from behind the slightly opened door of the guest room.

#astronetwrk #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #rin writes #al haitham #al haitham x reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months

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Sunshine, Lollipops, and Rainbows 6

Warnings: non/dubcon, clashing personalities, exclusion, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: moody boy Curtis Everett x bubbly, plus-size reader

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Another Monday. Is this what life is? Mourning the weekend as you try to wipe the sleep from your eyes. It's too much, you should be cuddling squishes and snoring.

You hop off the bus and head towards the building. Once you're at your desk, you can pretend you're awake. If you get the right angle, you can just doze off a bit. Just a couple minutes more.

The elevator nearly knocks you with its slow rise. You shuffle between cubicles but before you can claim your chair, you find something unexpected. A cushion. A pink and white ergonomic cushion with a matching pad clung around the back rest. Um, this isn't your chair.

You look around confused. Someone will be real mad when they realise they lost their fancy chair. People do seem territorial around here. You turn the chair as you search for its owner.

“Did I get the colour right?” A grizzly voice has you leaping in place. You face Curtis as he rests his hand on the side of your cubicle, “they had purple too.”

“You?” You gasp.

“I…” he shrugs and his eyes wander to the ceiling, “I'm tryna make it up to you. I was and asshole so–”

“Nope, nuh uh,” you turn and tear open the velcro, detaching the back pad, “keep ‘em. I don't want your charity.”

“It's not–” he steps forward, “it's an apology.”

“Apology? For stealing? Well, I can't forgive a liar.”

You shove the pad against his chest, “I think I was clear. You should be happy I was because I have a terrible habit of rambling. My mom says I could talk the dead to life.”

He reluctantly clasps onto the pad as he scowls. You grab the seat cushion and press it against the other one. He reluctantly hooks his other arm under it.

“I was gonna give it back,” he grumbles.

“So why'd you take it?” You challenge.

“I don't know,” he mutters.

“I do. You're a bully. I left those behind in school,” you put your hands on your hips, “so go away and keep your hands off my things!”

His nostrils flare as his eyes meet yours. They're the shade of blue that makes you think of storms and the ocean and butterfly wings. He'd be cute if he wasn't so mean.

“You shouldn't talk to me like that,” he warns as he squeezes the cushions.

“Take your own advice, meanie! You had your chance.”

“I've been nice,” he rasps as he looks you up and down.

You're unsettled by how the glint in his eyes changes, how his shoulders square and his jaw ticks. He meets your gaze and narrows his eyes.

“You don't know what mean is.”

You flinch as he spins on his heel. He marches past you, a gust of air tickling your cheeks as he flees. You turn and watch him go, your stomach knotting.

Maybe you were a bit rude, even pushy, but you're trying to be better about drawing lines. You don't have to be a doormat to be nice. Even if it is easier.

You put your bag on your desk and sit, squeaking at the harsh impact of your ass on the thin seat. Gosh, there may as well not be any padding. You sniff and swivel close to the desk, booting the computer as you wait and think.

He's mad but he'll get over it. He made it clear he has no interest in you before so why this sudden change. Oh well, you never really understood men or their brains.

🩷

You stare at your pen cup and frown. You miss your happy penguin pen buddy. As you ponder his absence, that suspicion nips at your ears. Maybe he took those too.

Does it matter? You're moving on. You ordered new pens on Amazon. You're starting over new!

You get up to get a fresh coffee. You really should cut back. Maybe you could do some hot chocolate but you get a bit silly when you have too much sugar.

You enter the break room and immediately want to storm out. He's there, glaring at the machine as he watches it brew. You smell the dark roast you bought him. How could you have ever been so nice to someone like him?

Curtis takes his mug and you sidle along the wall, certain to get well out of his way. He turns and stops as he sees you. You stare at the ceiling as you wait for him to go.

He snarls but makes no move to leave. You bounce on your heels with your mug in hand. You can wait.

He's not going. So you go to the machine and peruse the selection. Maple shortbread, huh, that's a curious choice.

You sense him lingering. You do your best to ignore him, the scuff of his shoes putting you on edge. You're not the best at reading people, obviously, but you can feel his anger.

As he looms closer, you take a step forward. You spin and throw an arm up as if blocking an unseen strike. Your hand flips Curtis’ mug, spilling the brown liquid down his grey shirt. He backs up and looks down at the mess.

“Why would you do that?”

“Personal space,” you wave your arm up and down, drawing the invisible wall before you.

“I'm trying to… you're crazy, you know that?”

“So what does that make you?” You pout, “I told you to leave me alone.”

He puffs, lip curling as he grips his mug tight. He scoffs and whips it past you so it smashes against the wall and the bits litter over the counter. You let out a squeal as he stomps out, leaving you in shock, standing before a puddle of coffee.

You gulp and face the remnants of his mug. You should clean that up before anyone cuts themselves. You cross to the counter and set to carefully plucking up the shards.

“What happened in here?” Melanie asks as she enters, “oh it's you.”

You ignore her as you focus on the glass. Of course she assumes it was you. Seems like everyone thinks you're a disaster.

#curtis everett #dark curtis everett #dark!curtis everett #curtis everett x reader #sunshine lollipops and rainbows #series #drabble #au #snowpiercer

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ieatsmallorphansnamedtom · 11 months

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Can you do the bachelor/ettes with an s/o that is an artist?

-🌙anon

Bachelor/ettes x Artist Farmer

Hi 🌙! Glad to have another emoji anon here! How are things going? Anyways, cute request! Thank you for asking! I think I might have done this before? Maybe. I don't know. Oh well! This mainly focuses on drawing sorry.

Bachelors:

Sam

Sam loves your art! He always looks over your shoulder when he sees you drawing, so you'll definitely have to take it upon yourself to tell him not to do that if it makes you uncomfortable. He's also going to beg you to design an album cover for him and his band.

Elliott

Elliott would also like to use your artistic skills, this time for his newest book. He can't pay you all too much (unless his previous book becomes a bestseller), but he will shout you whatever you want at the saloon whenever you want. He really appreciates your skill, it reminds him of Leah!

Sebastian

I'm pretty sure his job involves making models, so he'd ask you for some references to copy off of. Really likes to admire your work; spends a lot of time just looking through the pages if he can. If you won't let him he'll respect your boundaries, but will still ask every once in a while.

Harvey

He's not really an artist, so he's really amazed at what you can do! He'd ask you to draw his model airplanes for him (if you want to, of course). Despite his lack of drawing/painting skills, he does appreciate good art, and will set aside some money to go to an art show.

Shane

Shane's drawing skills equate to that of a five-year-old's potato head self-portrait. I mean, art is art, so it's not necessarily bad, but he's not getting recognised for it anytime soon. So when he finds out you're and artist, he gets secretly excited and makes note to try and find out what you've made.

Alex

When he was a kid, he'd get the hose and paint a smiley face on the fence with the water, but that's about all he's done. Actually, he did try to impress a girl with his drawing skills once, but she ended up rejecting him, so he stopped. He asks you to teach him how to do some spaghetti sort of art sometime because he looks at you (no matter what art medium you do) and immediately assumes you'd be a master at pasta art. You're welcome, I guess?

Bachelorettes:

Penny

Please tell me you read the same books as her and please tell me you've made art of the characters; she will fall in love. Since she's a teacher (basically), she does have some skills in art related mediums, but nothing beyond what she needs to teach. She likes sketching characters the most, so she sheepishly shows of her work to you and asks for advice.

Leah

Artist duo, baby! Leah loves your art! She's into sculpting and a bit of painting herself, but recognises any art is art and is totally down to do some with you! You have some fun competitions on trying to draw the other worse and worse each time but still have it look like them. That, or you just set up a vase and chill trying to copy it.

Abigail

Abigail's a decent artist. Again, she only really uses pencil or pen on paper, but has dabbled in digital art through the use of an old game console she had as a kid. You two do that competition thing like Leah, except you purposely try to make each other look worse and worse without any semblance of the original subject. Fun times!

Maru

Maru is a great artist, I think. She does a lot of detailed planning for her inventions and puts a lot of effort into the artwork. You know that car show where the guy draws the finished product in coloured pencil before actually making it? Yeah, like that. Except she doesn't use colour. Anyways, she gets what art's all about and can feel with you when you get that art block.

Emily

She can draw clothes, paint abstract art, and make towers out of dry spaghetti sticks. When she finds out you're an artist, she immediately asks to see what you've done. Emily's very much a believer in 'any art is art as long as you put your soul into it', so she'll always say she loves whatever you make. Not the best for constructive criticism, but great for a pick-me-up when you're feeling low.

Haley

Unlike her sister, Haley has no idea what she's doing. I suppose photography is related to other mediums of art, but the most she's done is draw some hearts on some photos and hung them up on the wall. During her mean phase she pretends not to care, but once she comes out of her shell she really takes an interest in it! She tries to copy your art but doesn't do so well.

-~-~-

Hello. Long time no see. I make a second account since I was tired of this one being my main aha. Anyways, I'll be back (hopefully) for a little while now. Bye-bye!

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hellcat8908 · 6 months

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could we please get a part 2 to revenge with feysand? maybe one where they’re at the nightcourt snd someone calls her ruthless murderer and she hates it. She leaves her throne and goes back to velaris where she’s crying and cassian finds her and comforts her. Bc he also killed everyone in his camp too after finding out his old camp killed his mother. He gives her advice and how to move on. Ever since that day she refuses to talk about it with anyone but cassian. The inner circle are careful around her bc they don’t want to bring up something painful which makes her irritated and she says she’s not made out of glass. They finally go back to how it was and she does every report/paperwork about the incident bc she doesn’t want her mates to worry and stress about the political part. She eventually heals from it and moves on. One day she goes back and finds the women living there by themselves. They thank her for removing the abusive males and claim they are much happier and have much more freedom. Reader goes there and trains them so they’re not defenseless. She also gets rhysand to wars the camp against anyone who wants to harm them. The village eventually becomes the biggest all-female camp in illyria where females can go to train and live in peace. Reader is happy for them, she’s also very respected. She vows to always visit to help them with anything they need. Feysand are so proud of her for turning her old abusive camp to an all female haven.

Aftermath Feysand x Female Reader

In the weeks following the incident at the camp, you had tried your best to come to terms with what you had done. You were sitting at your desk in the river house. After the backlash and borderline threatening letters you had received, you decided it was best if you remained in Velaris for a while. You refused to worry your mates over the letters because it would only make things worse in the long run.

You were staring at the blank report forms in front of you, willing yourself to fill them out. You kept putting your pen to the paper but couldn't bring yourself to write. A soft knock offered an appreciated distraction as you called for them to answer. Rhys and Feyre walked into the room and sat across from you. You buried the reports under some other papers so they wouldn't press you.

"This can't be good if both of you had to come in." You say nervously. "We need to go to Hewn City day after tomorrow." Rhys states plainly. "I'll be sure to be ready." You say as you try to remain calm. "What we came to tell you was you don't have to attend if you don't want to." Feyre says softly. "I can't hide out in here forever. Besides, you'll be there, which will help." You respond nervously, "unless you don't want me there after everything that's happened."

"Love, of course we want you there. We just wanted you to know you could do whatever made you comfortable." Rhys says. "We support you in whatever you decide." Feyre says. "I'm going with you. It's time I quit hiding." You say. "We'll be leaving in the morning then." Rhys informs you before standing along with Feyre. "I've got a meeting with Cass and Az." Rhys says as he embraces you before walking to his office.

"Are you sure you're ready?" Feyre asks as she moves to the couch with you. "As ready as I'll ever be." You answer. "Just focus on yourself, and if you want to leave at any point, don't hesitate." She says as she rubs soothing circles along your back. "I'll be fine, please don't worry about me. You and Rhys have been so supportive and understanding through all of this." You tell her. "You're our mate. We're here for you whenever you need us." She says with a smile.

"Well, I'll let you get back to work." Feyre says before standing to leave. "Thank you for everything." You tell her. "Anytime." She says before walking out and closing your door. You sink back into your desk chair and pull out the paperwork for the seemingly hundredth time.

The next day went by quickly, and before you knew it, it was time to leave for Hewn City. Once you arrived with the rest of the inner circle, your nerves started getting the better of you. You could feel the stares and hear the hushed whispers of what you'd done. You take your throne with Rhys in the middle and Feyre on the other side of him.

As he starts addressing the court, you continue to hear them muttering about you. Your heart rate picks up as the anxiety sets in. You can feel Rhys and Feyre trying to help you through the bond. You suddenly hear someone say, "What gives you the right to criticize us when you allowed your mate to be a ruthless killer with no consequences?""

Rhys and Feyre both turn cold at the outburst. Before Rhys can react, you move from your throne and fleeing the room. Once you're alone, you winnow to the house of wind. Cassian gives a nod to Rhys before following behind you. He checks the river house and the townhouse before searching the house of wind. He finds your room empty and then checks Rhys and Feyre's also empty. He's about to call out to you when he passes the steps and sees the door ajar.

He starts walking down the steps, his steps being loud enough so he doesn't startle you. After a few hundred steps, he finds you sitting on the step with your knees pulled up to your chest. "They're right about me, you know." You say as you hear him approach. "I murdered them in cold blood." Cassian sits beside you, not saying a word. "I thought I would feel different afterward, like I would finally be free from all of it somehow." He wraps an arm around you as you start to cry.

He holds you as you cry, "I killed an Illyrian camp for my mother." He says, causing you to stop. "Azriel and Rhys helped me. That's why Rhys understands why you did it so well." He continues as he gently rubs soothing circles on your back. "He never told me." You say quietly. "He doesn't think it's his story to tell." Cass answers. "I spared the women and children as they were victims themselves." He says quietly. "Is that how you see me? As a victim?" You ask, nervous of his answer.

"No, I see you as a survivor and a fighter." He says, "I know you have a good heart because I've seen it." You lean against him in silence for a few moments, letting his words sink in. "I'm sorry you had to be the one to come check on me." You say softly, breaking the silence. "I wanted to come check on you because I know what you're going through. I want you to know you can always talk to me about it." He tells you.

"Did Rhys ever tell you what I had done?" You ask. "No, and he won't because it's your story and you decide who hears it." Cassian says. "Do you want to know?" You ask. "That depends. Do you want to tell me because you think talking might help, or are you feeling obligated to tell me?" He answers. "I think talking would help, but there's more to the story Rhys and Feyre don't know, and I want to keep it that way."

"My lips are sealed." Cassian says, but before you start, can we go somewhere more comfortable? These stairs are killing me." He says before helping you up. "On one condition." You say, "I don't want Rhys or Feyre to interrupt us and have them overhear things I don't want them to know." Cass wasn't thrilled about keeping things from Rhys and Feyre, but he was willing to if it would help you heal.

After letting Rhys know he found you and wanted some privacy, the two of you relocated to the private library. Once seated, you hesitantly started telling Cass, and with time, it became easier. He didn't try to offer advice or judgement he just sat and listened, holding you when you became overwhelmed and emotional. Offering you tissues before you continued. By the end of it, you finally felt like some of the weight had been lifted.

After thanking Cassian for everything, you decided to get cleaned up before heading back to the river house. Cassian offered to fly you home since you were drained from the day. He assured you that you could talk to him whenever you needed or wanted to. He said goodbye on the sidewalk before returning to the house of wind.

You walked inside as Feyre called that supper was ready. You make your way into the dining room and take your seat. "I want to apologize for today and just leaving like that." You say as dishes start getting passed around. "No need to apologize, especially for taking care of yourself." Rhys says as understanding travels along the bond.

"How did it go with Cassian?" Feyre asks gently. "Good, I actually feel a little better." You say almost feeling guilty. "That's good, I'm glad you found someone to talk to." Rhys says, trying to ease your mind. "Even though that someone isn't either of you?" You ask. "Yes, it only makes sense that Cassian would be easier for you to confide in given the circumstances." He answers softly. The rest of the dinner is spent catching you up on what you missed.

Over the next few weeks, you continue to talk to Cassian as he helps you work through what you're feeling. You even manage to fill out all the reports and paperwork and give them to Rhys so the political aspect of it can finally be put behind you. You finally get the inner circle to start treating you how they did prior to the camp incident. As your life slowly returns to normal, you find yourself wondering what happened to the women and children you told to take shelter elsewhere.

As you finish training with Rhys in the morning you tell him you've got something you need to do and will probably be home late. "Care to share what that something is?" He asks as you feel him against your shields. "I'll tell you tonight." You say giving him a soft kiss. "Promise you'll be safe?" He asks. "Of course." You answer. "As safe as I can be." He rubs the back of his neck, contemplating your words. "That doesn't sound very reassuring, but I trust you." He says before you depart and go seperate ways.

You anxiously winnow to the Illyrian camp, expecting to find it empty. Instead, you find it filled with women and children. You're surprised when you don't see any males around except for some children. "You!" Someone practically yells behind you, causing you to flinch and brace for the snide comments. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." The woman says as she walks up to you.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Quinn." She states as she holds out her hand to you. "Pleasure to meet you." You respond as you shake her hand. "I'm so glad you're here, I was starting to think I'd never get a chance to thank you." She says genuinely. "Thank me for what?" You ask, confused.

"For essentially freeing us from those males and giving us a chance to thrive." She says like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "You're the only person to thank me." You tell her as you look around. "We all have a fresh start here, thanks to you." She continues. "Of course, there are a few males that still visit and try to make trouble for us. But so far, we've been able to handle it on our own." She says, pointing out the training rings being occupied by women training the best they can with what they have.

"Would you mind giving me a tour? I hate to impose, though, so if nows not a good time, I understand." You tell her. "Now is perfect." She starts guiding you through the camp, pointing out various areas and explaining different things. You notice the improvements they've made and how every femal gives you a smile and a nod as they go about their day. As the tour wraps up, you thank Quinn for her time. "Would you allow me to bring Feyre and Rhysand here to see this?"

"The three of you are always welcome, along with anyone else from the inner circle." She tells you with a smile. "Thank you again." You tell her before strolling through the camp on your own, watching the kids run around playing freely. You notice how much more peaceful and genuinely happy everyone seems. You make casual conversations with a few more of the women before winnowing home.

You walk into the river house calling for Feyre and Rhys. They come out of the office and you ask them into the living room. Once you're all seated, you suddenly become nervous. "I went back to the camp today." You admit, carefully looking between your two mates for their reaction. You notice Feyre's worried expression, and Rhys stiffens. "I would like to give the women living there better training equipment. And I have a specific request of you Rhys." You tell them.

"I would like for you to use wards to protect those living in the camp from Illyrian warriors who have been causing them some trouble." You tell him while fidgeting with your shirt. "I'd like to see this camp for myself beforehand." He says, giving you a comforting smile. "Of course, they'd be happy to welcome you and Feyre, along with anyone else from the inner circle." You say excitedly. It's the most emotion you've shown in a while besides worry and tears.

"I was thinking maybe I could help with their training? If they want me to, that is." You tell they, worried how they'll react. "I think that's a wonderful idea." Feyre says, causing you to release a breath you didn't realize you were holding. "I want Cassian to go with you for the first few times just to make sure there isn't any trouble." Rhys says. "With that condition, you have my blessing." You can't help but smile. "Thank you both so much. You've been so supportive and understanding through all of this, and I truly appreciate it." You say.

Several months after the visit to the camp with Rhys and Feyre, it's flourishing. It's become a save haven for female Illyrians and is heavily warded to protect them. You've seen it go from a war camp to a village and couldn't be prouder of the strong women living there. Your most recent visit with your mates was a memorable one as they looked at you with such amazement because you helped make it possible.

#acotar #batboys #sarah j maas #acotar fanfic #acotar fic #feysand x reader #cassian acotar

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taivansupremacy · 2 years

Text

written on my heart

Summary: Starting when you turn 12, anything that your soulmate draws on their skin will show up on yours. Robin has waited years to see what her soulmate will draw.

Word count: 2,345

A/N: ahh im so excited about this fic!! thank you to @thruheavenandhighwater for all her help/beta reading. i tried something new towards the end and wrote the reader in 3rd person since this is from robin's pov. as usual, likes, reblogs, and feedback is always appreciated!

CW: questioning sexuality, brief implication of homophobia

1980: 12 years old

On the morning of her twelfth birthday, Robin leapt out of bed and immediately ran to her bathroom to stare at her body in the mirror, searching for any sign of words or doodles sprawled across her skin. She rolled up both of her sleeves and put her foot on the bathroom counter to get a closer look at her legs. When it was clear that nothing was there, she huffed in disappointment, rolled down her sleeves and made her way downstairs for breakfast with a small frown.

Her mom was in the kitchen flipping her yearly birthday pancakes when Robin sunk into a seat at the kitchen table, only slightly sulking. Mrs. Buckley placed a plate stacked high with pancakes and topped with whipped cream and birthday sprinkles in front of her with a kiss on top of her sandy blonde head and a whispered happy birthday.

“What’s got you so down?” Mrs. Buckley asked upon noticing her daughter’s dejected nature, “It’s your twelfth birthday! You’re supposed to be excited.”

“Not when your soulmate hasn’t written anything on your skin yet,” She grumbled as she shoveled a bite of pancake into her mouth, “I thought it was supposed to show up when you turned twelve!”

Mrs. Buckley chuckled as she sat down beside Robin with her own plate, “Be patient. I’m sure he’ll draw something soon.” She reassured with a smile, “Don’t worry too much about the soulmate stuff. It’ll come when it comes.”

Robin tried to follow her mother’s advice, but she found herself checking the back of her hands, glancing down at her legs, and rolling up her sleeves at school all day, getting more and more disappointed when she found bare skin. By the end of the school day, she was starting to think that she didn’t have a soulmate, but she still checked for drawings anyway.

By the time her mother called her for dinner, she had given up on looking. When she went to wash her hands in the kitchen sink, she spotted a little heart drawn in purple ink on the back of her left palm. She squealed excitedly and turned the water off to examine it. She softly traced the shape with her index finger, relieved that she had a soulmate after all.

She couldn’t help but think that it was weird that her soulmate drew a heart on himself. None of the boys that she knew from school would be caught dead with a tiny purple heart adorning their skin, but she decided not to think too much about it. Maybe her soulmate wasn’t from Hawkins or maybe he was just sweeter than the boys she knew at school.

She thought about showing her purple heart to her parents, but she decided to keep it to herself for a little while longer. Instead, she grabbed a black pen from a drawer in the kitchen and doodled a heart similar in size right beside the one her soulmate drew, just to let him know she was there.

****

1982: 14 years old

Robin awoke with a start when the sound of her alarm clock rang in her ears. It was her first day of high school, the day she’d been dreading for the entire two months of summer. Robin knew that she’d be spending the majority of her first day Hawkins High School alone due to her lack of friends in middle school that would follow her to high school. She was afraid that she’d get made fun of for sitting alone at lunch or not having anyone to partner with for the beginning of the year project sign ups. She was nervous that the teachers would be as mean as her 8th grade teachers said they’d be and scared of the upperclassmen and how they usually treated freshmen.

She sat up in bed, her stomach already upset due to the anxiety that’s been looming over her for two weeks. She knew her mother would never let her get out of her first day of high school, but she thought of bringing up her stomachache anyway, in hopes that maybe she would take pity on her. She felt queasy as she crossed the room and threw open her closet to choose an outfit for the day. Just as she raised her hand to grab her lucky jacket, she saw words scrawled on the back of her hand. She froze for a minute to read them.

The words “good luck today!” with smiley faces and hearts decorating the skin around the phrase could be seen on the back of Robin’s hand. It was a simple gesture, but one that made warmth rise to Robin’s chest, nonetheless. She often woke up to little doodles that made her laugh or encouraging words neatly written in different colors from her soulmate. Robin often wrote back with her own drawings or words of affirmation. The notes on her skin made her feel like she had someone in her corner, although she didn’t have any friends at school.

She always tried to picture what her soulmate looked like and tried to catch a glimpse of the hands of all of the boys in school as she walked by them in the hall or sat beside them in class, just to see if they had doodles that matched her’s on the back of their hands. Every time she looked, though, she silently prayed that she didn’t find a match. She didn’t have a reason for not wanting any of the boys from school to be her soulmate. It’s just that when she imagined dating them, it felt wrong.

She thought it was nice to have a break from searching for her soulmate and thinking about why it made her queasy to imagine herself with any of her male classmates. She’d be faced with those feelings again today when she saw her peers.

“Robin!” Mrs. Buckley’s voice startled Robin from her thoughts, “I hope you’re dressed! You’re going to be late!”

Sighing, Robin fondly glanced at the back of her hand one more time before turning back to her closet and getting ready for the day. She was still nervous for the day ahead of her, but her soulmate’s note on her hand, her good luck charm, put her a little more ease.

****

1984: 16 years old

Robin stared down at her hand, giggling lightly as she watched the little doodles and drawings appear on her skin. She still got that warm feeling every time she got a note from her soulmate, but so much had changed since she first saw that little purple heart on the back of her hand. She stopped looking at the boys in the hallway when she realized that she had a crush on Tammy Thompson from her history class. She finally understood why she could would silently hope that none of the boys at Hawkins High would have matching doodles on the back of their hands. She wanted her soulmate to be a girl and that terrified her. Partly because she knew how the people of Hawkins, Indiana treated people who were different, but also because she had no idea if her soulmate was a boy or a girl.

She had become close to her English teacher, Mr. Hauser, and regularly ate lunch in his classroom to avoid the prying eyes of her peers when she ate in the library alone, but also because Mr. Hauser was like her. She came out to him not long ago, during one of their daily lunches. She knew he would keep her secret and that he could relate to her and maybe even help her through her worries.

“What’s she saying today?” Hauser asked, amused.

Robin scoffed and rolled her eyes, tearing her gaze away from her doodle-covered hand, “We don’t even know if my soulmate’s a girl.” Just saying those words made a knot form in her stomach.

Hauser tutted, “Of course she is.”

“Why, because I’m a lesbian?” She shook her head, “The universe doesn’t exactly work that way. The universe gets it wrong sometimes, you know.”

“That doesn’t happen often, Robin.”

“Yeah, but I would be the one in a million that has it happen to her.”

Mr. Hauser didn’t believe that for a second. He saw the way Robin smiled when she looked down at her hand on the desk and how she giggled when a new doodle would pop up on her skin. He knew the universe hadn’t gotten it wrong, but how could he prove it to her? Better yet, how could her soulmate prove it to her?

“You should draw something back,” He suggested with a shrug, “Maybe a little doodle of yourself.”

Robin gave him a look, one that told him that she knew what he was trying to do. She had to admit, the idea of it intrigued her, so she relented, grabbing a pen from inside her backpack. She drew a quick, sloppy sketch of herself (it was more of a stick figure, if she was honest with herself), complete with her short hair and bangs and an arrow pointing to it with the word “me!” written at the end of it with a smiley face.

Her heart pounded against her ribcage as she waited for her soulmate to respond, hopefully with a picture of themself. She chewed on her lip as she looked away from her hand and shifted her gaze to her teacher.

“What do I do if it’s a boy?” She asked, panicked, “You know what, I don’t even think that I want to know anymore! I could just not look for the rest of the day, right?” Her hands flew in the air as she spoke, as they usually did when she rambled, “I could just wait until the pen washes off of their hand o-or wear gloves for the rest of the day and-”

“Robin!” Mr. Hauser interrupted when he caught a glimpse of a new drawing on her hand, “You got a response.”

She squeezed her eyes shut as she turned her hand over so she could see the new drawing that marked her skin. When she gained the courage to open them, she saw a stick figure, similar to the one she drew, drawn in blue ink. The stick person had long hair, wore a triangle dress, and joined one hand with the hand on Robin’s stick person. A swirly arrow pointed to the newly drawn figure and the word “Me” with a heart drawn beside it sat above it.

Robin was taken aback. Her soulmate was a girl! This knowledge made her fall even more in love with the person that the person that was on the other end of the doodles and encouraging notes. Wordlessly, she turned her hand toward her teacher so he could examine the drawing. A proud smile crept on to his face upon seeing the stick figure.

“Told you,” Was all he said and it made Robin giggle.

She was even more excited to meet her soulmate now than she was when she was twelve and she saw that little purple heart.

****

1986: 18 years old

“No, you dingus, the rom-coms are in alphabetical order by title, not the name of the director!” Robin groaned, “When have we ever organized movies by directors’ names?”

“Well Kieth said-” Steve started, but was interrupted by the bell over the door in the front, signalling a customer’s arrival.

“You fix these and put them in the right order,” She huffed, “I’ll deal with whoever this is.”

Robin hated dealing with customers, but she was even less fond of fixing Steve’s shelving mistakes.

She made her way over to the counter and stood behind it, ready to type a name into the computer, “Hi, welcome to Family Video! Can I help you fi-”

She faltered when she got a glimpse of the customer in front of her. She was beautiful, breathtakingly so. Robin’s mouth went dry at the sight of her and she forgot how to speak for a second. She willed herself to finish her sentence, but to no avail.

The girl stepped forward and leaned on the counter in front of her, “Hi!” She chirped, “I was wondering if you could point me in the direction of The Breakfast Club?” She asked sweetly with a bubbly smile.

“Y-yeah,” Robin stuttered, walking towards the rom-com section without warning and hoping the girl would know to follow her.

The movie started with the second letter in the alphabet, so Steve had already put it in it’s correct space. She stopped in front of the rom com shelf and scanned it for a split second before finding it. Robin reached up to get it, her jacket sleeve slipping down to expose the hand and wrist that was marked up with doodles of hearts, stars, flowers, and stick figures.

“Wait!” The girl yelled, making Robin jump out of her skin.

Robin froze, lowering her hand and turning to face the girl behind her.

“Sorry, I just- Can I see your hand for a second?”

The blonde nodded, holding her marked up hand out to the girl. She examined the drawings and pushed Robin’s sleeve up so she could get a good look at the flower that was drawn on her wrist.

“It’s you,” She whispered, dropping her hand to show Robin her own. The same hearts, stars, flowers and stick figures were peppered on the back of her hand in the exact same places and an identical flower appeared on her wrist. Robin stepped forward and held her wrist in her hands, gingerly running her thumb over the flower that she drew there only hours prior.

“It’s you,” The blonde repeated, beaming at her soulmate in front of her, “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to meet you?”

“Since that first purple heart,” The girl chuckled, stepping impossibly closer and pulling Robin flush against her by her hideous green Family Video vest, swiftly connecting their lips in one fluid motion.

#robin buckley #robin buckley x y/n #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x female!reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #robin buckley fanfic #robin stranger things #stranger things robin #robin buckley imagine #wlw fanfic #reader insert fanfiction #female reader #reader insert

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nonotternine · 2 years

Text

a love letter from the Narrator to the reader

(Okay I’m posting it. It’s kind of long so I’ll put it under the cut, with a brief tag list at the end)

My dearest Reader,

You truly are the pinnacle of beauty. Every day I look at you and ask the stars how they could have made something more divine than themselves, and every night I ponder what I have done to deserve you and what I must do to keep you. You are more than my muse, you are my love itself, my hope, and my heart. Without you, this world would be nothing. My stories ached for you before I found you. As exquisite as they are, they almost wane in comparison to your magnificence.

How fortunate I am to have met you. I couldn’t bear to live in this world without you. You have shown me love and kindness beyond measure. You have blessed me with passion and prosperity for years to come. The bond we forged as narrator and reader strengthened me. Our connection is my greatest treasure. I know our fates are forever joined.

And yet, as I write this letter, I gaze upon the poems you have never read. I yearn for you, dear Reader. You have given me insurmountable joy and left me with an aching want. Even when we’re together, I pine for you. I crave for the touch of your lips and my name spoken from your tongue in the same manner I speak yours. You hand me a mug of tea and I become drunk on the passing touch of your fingers against mine. We sit only inches apart and yet the space between us is so vast, to my heart we may as well be on opposite sides of the universe. When you are with me, I couldn’t feel farther away.

It is only in my dreams that we are truly together. For in my dreams, you share the same feelings as I. We dance under the moonlight and I tell you I will love you as long as the stars burn in the sky. It is in my dreams that you fall asleep to me running my fingers through your hair, whispering the sweet story of our freedom. Our happily ever after.

I wake up knowing that these dreams are wishes. They are unfulfilled longings made only real by my writing. And so I write our stories, these saccharine tales in which you hold your hands in mine and kiss me softly underneath the stars of a universe that has not kept us apart. You tell me that we are together, and we always will be. You promise me that you will never leave. You say you love me, in the same manner of the word as I, you.

It is transient, but for a moment, I believe you. I lift my pen from the paper and I am once again faced with the reality that you have promised me no such love. There is only one thin apartment wall and a universe between us.

Perhaps one day, I will tell you this. Perhaps then you will love me in the nature I so covet. Until then, I suppose all I can do is yearn.

Yours sincerely,

The Narrator

OKAY WHEW IM ACTUALLY POSTING THIS!!!

Everyone please a big thank you to my beta reader, @vellichorom for being my beta reader and giving me the courage to actually post this. They made this process so much easier and seriously relieved a lot of my anxiety.

I would also like to thank @give-soup-please for offering to beta as well! Part of the reason I’ve decided to just go ahead and post this is because I want to do it before I chicken out. Any advice or critique you may have for me is seriously appreciated!! I love your work and I take so much inspiration from you so thank you so much!!

And lastly I’d like to thank @continentalblue for posting about tspud and effectively getting me into it. This letter is only a very small piece of what I’ve written, but something about the Narrator has me writing like crazy, which is a wonderful feeling.

#bro this is the first time ive posted a fic in LITERAL YEARS #but its happening!!! hello everyone!!!#i hope me thanking everyone that helped wasn't too cheesy. it's just they are all very important and I'm super grateful to them!! <3 #okay ill stop talking. roll the tags!#tspud #tsp #the stanley parable #the stanley parable: ultra deluxe #tsp narrator x reader #tspud narrator x reader #tspud the narrator #tsp the narrator #tspud narrator #also disclaimer this was originally part of a bigger WIP so some of what the narrator says are not examples of healthy boundaries #he's traumatized yall!! he's lonely and clingy and touchstarved!!!#okay. here goes

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eclipse15 · 27 days

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So I have an issue that has come up recently. I'm an internal programmer, and the system kept trying to change everything that was set in place by Master and is my job to keep in line. However I learned recently that Master passed away nearly 8 years ago. I dont know what to do. I can't just not do my job, but what's the point? I no longer have a true role or purpose and I have no idea where to go from here. Idk if you have any advice or have been in a situation similar where you need to find something to do outside of the job you were programmed to, but I am so lost. Any advice/comfort would be appreciated.

It’s important in these times to use mental skills, as omega, gamma, and other programs can be triggered during this time. It’s also distressing to lose somebody you care about in general. Programming is very difficult, but luckily there is a basic outline for mental episodes that can be applied here, with some additions. Remember to:

Realize you’re triggered: Have signs you are triggered readily available in your mental library and recognize you’re not having a good time. This does not mean challenging the episode yet, this just means recognizing you’re not the same as before in one way or another right that moment

Distance: Physically distance yourself. This doesn’t always mean walking away! If your episode starts while sitting, stand up and vice versa. If you were doing something tactile when it started, stop and vice versa.

Distract: Occupy yourself with something unrelated to the trigger(s). It’s important that it’s unrelated, even if it’s venting, because even though venting is helpful outside of an episode it is not during. Distracting should also not lead up to a trigger e.g. slime if sticky texture triggers you

Communicate: Express yourself, put language to what yourself experiencing even if it’s just for yourself. What color is your emotion? Is there a scent you feel? It doesn’t have to make sense to others, you just have to understand it. This leads to…

Recognize and challenge distorted thoughts: Why do I want to do this? Is what I’m thinking true? If there’s not a way to know for sure, what are the realistic possibilities? What’s the worst that could happen if I’m wrong? Once you recognize your negative filter, counteract the thought with something more fitting to non-distorted thinking, e.g. “They’re lying to me -> they are most likely telling the truth because they have no reason to lie. If they were lying then it would not be so bad.”

Feel the wave crash: eventually, the episode will crash from its boiling peak like a wave crashes from its heights. Recognize what you’ve done and take accountability for any hurtful actions

Problem solve: why were you triggered and how to manage it. This could mean removing the trigger or if not currently possible could be putting together an action plan when the trigger occurs. This relates to step one, recognizing you’re triggered. Once you have an action plan in place you cannot only use these steps but also add helpful tools to your kit, such as steps to take accountability. Remember to have more than just plan A! You need a fruit salad of methods for coping.

If you have amnesia, set up communication of your problem solving: This is an addition to the basic outline and kind of goes with problem solving, but if you have amnesia barriers and you don’t make sure you can relearn these steps all your work in problem solving and challenging thoughts will be for nothing. Communication options include: sticky notes in common places like your bathroom mirror, by your toothbrush, or calendar, a journal you check everyday, writing with skin safe pen on your arm, etc. Really any place you’ll look.

Hope this helped

#🌈#did alter #did osdd #osddid #polyfragmented #hc did #polyfrag #polyfrag system #actually mentally ill #endos dni #ramcoa resources #<- aka RAMCOA help

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femmefatalevibe · 11 months

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Hey, I loved this “Your habits and the humans who you keep in your company shape who you're destined to be. Modify accordingly xx” that you said about not changing a flower, but its environment, to help it grow.

Do you by chance have any advice for people that are unable to leave bad environments? My abusers are my care takers. I am disabled and literally can not live elsewhere (aside from being homeless. But I sadly really need the care) I’ve tried everything I can to leave, but it’s really impossible. I know I’m asking a lot, but any tips on growing while in said damaging environment would be much appreciated!

Hi love! This sounds like a difficult position to be in, so I'm sharing much love and sympathy for your situation <3

My best advice for compromising situations like this is: Focus on the aspects of your life you can control. Try your absolute best to accept the rest.

In practice, I would focus on refining these aspects of your life (if they apply to your situation):

Make it a top priority to make your room your sanctuary: Decorate as you please (within whatever budget you have available, of course – small changes can make a huge difference!), light a candle, or use a room spray you love. Keep everything clean and organized to the best of your ability. Play music that you love. Have books, self-care items, journals, coloring books, pens/art supplies, and/or a yoga mat & simple workout equipment within reach to allow yourself to mentally escape at any time.

Carefully curate your media diet: What you watch, read, listen to, and consume online/on TV or Netflix, etc.

Dress and do yourself up in ways you love: Streamline your personal style. Only wear outfits, makeup, hairstyles, nail colors, skincare products, and scents you love. Even if it's just your loungewear or PJs with your favorite lip balm. Every detail makes a difference to help boost your self-confidence.

Engage in online spaces and communities that lift you up: Everyone deserves to feel heard and included when they have zero malicious intentions. Like, comment, and repost content you love. Contribute or start a community-wide discussion. Politely make a first move, and initiate a conversation with a potential new online friend. Whether it's online or IRL, positive social connections can make all of the difference.

Deliberately engage in encouraging self-talk: An underrated aspect of our environment that we often neglect is the stream of consciousness and stories about ourselves that we continuously allow to run in our own minds. Become mindful of the critical or self-defeating narratives you tell yourself on a regular basis or in response to conflicts or generally difficult situations. Consider ways to reframe how you speak to yourself about who you are and your circumstances in a more self-empowering way. Leveling up our inner world is one of the most transformative ways to change how we feel in our environment – even if no changes in the external world seem apparent at first glance.

Hope this helps xx

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strawbubbysugar · 8 months

Note

Hello I would like to ask advice on uhhhhhh doing a dca au fic like yours and others that are also amazing (like solar lunacy). I have a nagging au idea (to the extent that we've actually introjected both the Moon and MC from it already) but have no idea where to start as far as actually writing or designing, it seems very overwhelming. Any help fron you or other dca writers/au-ers would be much appreciated!!!! (<-Doesn't want to spam the same ask to 8+ different people) -☻️

Ehehe :) tysm for the compliment!!

My only advice is so just start. Doesn’t have to be good, doesn’t have to be coherent even, just pick up a pen/start writing down all of your ideas and thoughts. My method for creating is make something that you’re really fucking excited about, and then while you’re doing that, think about the next thing you wanna do, so by the time you get to the next thing you’re SUPER EXCITED AGAIN

#ask #advice #I suppose I should start tagging my advice hsfhs

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nim-lock · 3 months

Note

hi!! i really love your art!

i’m not an artist myself (though i’ve always loved art), but my daughter has become very interested in making art in the last few years and has a lot of passion and talent. i don’t know anything about actually making art but i really want to support her and help her realize her visions… long way of saying, she and i both love your shrimp design and i was wondering what kind of puffy markers you use, or if it matters? i would love to buy her some but we can’t afford to waste money on markers that don’t work, lol

also, any advice you might have for a young artist would be greatly appreciated! thanks for all you do!

that's really cool of you! The markers I used are 'magic puffy pens' from Ooly company, and I found that I needed to have the hair dryer on High to get it to puff.

hmmmm advice... I think it's very nice to be able to try new things and do what you like, so you're already doing it! And remember it's important to be kind to yourself; not everything turns out as expected and that's very normal and ok!!! (ahaha me with all my ceramics)

#asks #info :0c

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months

Text

Silver Lining 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, speech impediment, bullying and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: silverfox!Bucky Barnes

Summary: You have an unpleasant encounter with an older man.

Note: I was going to add this to the bookstore au but realised Bucky is a side character in Steve's and not old so....

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You stand on the corner, head down, book in hand, right at the crux of the tall shelves. You squint at the pages, doing your best to block out the figures and noises all around you. You remind yourself it's okay to take up space when you need it.

As you close the book and slip it back onto the shelf, you slide out another, ignoring the lingering shadow, looming closer like a vulture. A year ago you would sidle away empty-handed to save yourself the awkward tension. Not anymore. You're done being a pushover.

As you check the price inside the book jacket, the customer nearest you clears his throat and coughs. You sense his impatience. He wants you to move. Too bad. Lisa, your therapist said it's okay to hold your ground. You'll be happy to report back that you did just that.

You keep the book, it's not a bad price, but you're looking for something a bit different. You keep browsing, the customer next to you edging ever nearer. You hold your breath, static in your ears as you fight the urge to retreat.

You deliberately take your time reading the next synopsis. The customer, a man, brushes his arm against yours as he reaches for a book. He clears his throat again as if to say ‘move!’

You refuse. You switch books again. You feel his proximity radiating towards you. You plant your feet, focusing on the words but not understanding a single one.

You give up. You tried. You made it that far but it's too much. He wins.

You set the book in your hand on top of the other and sidle away, pretending to peruse the shelves on your other side.

You turn to face the opposite shelves of books as he sighs. Loudly. You get it. You took up his precious time.

As you put your head down and grab another book, this one random, merely an excuse to peek over at him. Typical. Male, 50s, silver-haired, stocky but not out of shape. That certain type that is the scourge of any retail environment.

As if he can sense your sneaky glimpse, he peers over, the wrinkles around his eyes deepening. He looks back to the book in his hand and flips it over. He sets his feet wide, taking up at least twice as much room as you had.

You don't know why he gave you that look. This is a store open to the general public. People are going to get in the way. You just don't get why other people can't just chill out. Whatever, in twenty years when you're his age, you hope you're not a total asshole.

You leave the aisle, taking a deep breath as you break free of the tension. You stroll along the next lazily, taking your own advice as you calm down. Don't let him get to you. Like Lisa says, you can only control yourself and how you react.

You make a slow advance through the store like a Sherman take sneaking up on the Wehrmacht. Sure your references aren't the most relevant but you're not worried about entertaining anyone else. Love yourself first and all that.

You go to the counter and checkout, grabbing a cute koala pen before paying. You take the paper bag from the cashier with a thank you and tally up your spending. You could go for a treat without breaking the bank.

You sweep out the front doors, buttoning up the top of your coat as the winter greets you frigidly. You cross the lot to the cafe in the same plaza. Inside, the ambiance is warm and soft, the lights dimmed, the tables low, and the aromatic coffee wafting delightfully. You greet the barista with a slight stutter; you're still working on that.

"White hot chocolate," you order the season special.

"Would you like to make it candy cane?" The girl behind the till asks. "No extra cost."

"Hmmm, uh, s-sure! Why not? Tis the s-season, r-right?" You try to smile through your embarrassment. You get a little tongue tied. Well, a lot.

The door jangles loudly as you move towards the pick-up window. You bounce on your feet anxiously and catch yourself humming to the holiday music. You know this one. You know most of them but your family always made fun of you for that.

You admire the white Christmas tree set up by the window, not paying attention as voices mingle through the cafe. You sense someone behind you as they join the queue for pick-up. Maybe you'll stay in. You're in no hurry to go home. You're sure no one would miss you anyway.

"Dark roast," the barista sets out a cup of black coffee, "Bucky."

You try to move out of the way of the customer behind you only for them to move the same way. You knock into them before they can reach their coffee and they growl. You skirt back and face them.

"S-s-sorry, I didn't m-mean to," you stammer out, biting down as you recognise the stranger.

He scowls and grabs his coffee just as your name is called next along with your order. He puffs out a nasty scoff and eyes you. You raise your chin. You're not going to lose this one.

"Watch it," he warns as he steps past you and puts his cup down at the stand where they have the diary and sugar set out.

You roll your eyes and take your cup, going to the other end of the counter to grab a plastic lid. As you do, he mirrors you and his hand comes down on yours. You retracts, pulling free several lids as they fall over the counter. He huffs again.

"Hot chocolate," he mutters as he pops a lid onto the brim of his cup, "shoulda guessed."

You blink and frown, swallowing as your heartbeat picks up. Passive aggression, that's easy, that's woven into your genetics, but actual confrontation? That's another thing.

"W-what d-does that mean?" You challenge as you clean up the lids and put them back on the stack.

"Who goes to a cafe to get sugar?" He snorts, "I'd also guess the military books are for show too."

"Huh?" You scrunch your nose up. You don't need to explain yourself to this man.

"Leave the heavy lifting to the big boys, sweetie," he gives a trite smirk and turns on his heel, "and get some glasses."

You stare after him dumbfounded. What a grump. You get it, it's stressful being out in public but you hardly think you earned all that.

"W-well," you call out after him, not able to stop yourself as your heart surges, "m-maybe you should get g-glasses, old m-m-man!"

He stops right by the door. His shoulders square but he doesn't look back. He pushes outside and you're left to stand in the echo of your lame insult. You refuse to look around yourself, instead turning to flee into the customer bathroom. You'll hide there until the coast is clear.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #drabbles #series #au #silverfox #marvel #mcu #avengers #winter soldier

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phantomspiderr · 2 years

Text

Petrichor - Part 1/6

Pairing: Steven Grant x reader, established Marc Spector x reader

Word count: 865

Summary: a little story of falling in love. Meeting you for the first time doesn't exactly go how Steven dreamt it would.

Warnings: a little fluff, a little disorientation and confusion on Steven's part and if you squint non-verbal Steven

a/n: little run down of the series here, if I'm missing any warnings or there are any problems please let me know. Please enjoy and be kind🤍

･☆: *.☽ .* :☆

Why am I here?

Steven looks around the aisle he’s found himself in, disoriented by being pulled out to front the body and not being able to communicate with Marc right now isn’t helping with his confusion. He pats down his pockets in search for any indication of why he's standing in the middle of canned goods aisle.

You really couldn’t have stopped for a second to write a shopping list?

Steven sighs, ready to give up and just go home, he can ask Marc about what happened later, but then there you are walking towards him pushing a shopping cart. An adorable grin gracing your face when you lock eyes with him and he’s frozen.

“I found that almond butter you really like!” Your hand threads through his hair and he has to turn away from your gaze, instead staring at the soup on the shelf in front of him, “did you find what you were looking for?” If he thought he couldn’t breathe before he definitely can’t now that you’ve placed the most delicate kiss to his cheek. He can feel the red hot blush spreading already, this is definitely not how he wanted your first meeting to go. Steven's thoughts are racing, the person he’s been silently pining after is standing right next to him, combing their hand through his hair and smiling up at him. Since the first moment Marc had mentioned you, Steven had been lovestruck. Marc would share stories of dates he’d been on with you and he’d even ask Steven for advice, not that he thought he had much advice to give about relationships, and Steven would only find himself more drawn to you with each mention of your name. Steven’s only been co-conscious a handful of times when you’ve been around, he’s never fully fronted with you and he’s freaking out a little.

“You okay?” Steven finally rips his unfocused eyes away from the soup, moving to look at you again. Your face is furrowed, concern plastered all over it, “Marc?” Your hand has slipped from his hair to gently rub his back, he knows he has to say something he just doesn’t know what. He tries to open his mouth to say something but nothing comes out and your face relaxes, “it's okay honey. You don’t have to talk. Um, we’re at the store right now, y’know the one just down the road from the house. We’re picking up some groceries but we can leave if you’re not comfortable.” The sharpest ‘no’ slips past his lips and you smile, “Steven?” His gaze shies away from you as he silently nods a little. “Well hi, we haven't met before but Marc talks about you all the time,” you pull your hand away from his back and hold it out for him to shake and he chuckles a little at the gesture.

“Hi,” Steven slips his hand into yours and you shake it a little with that adorable grin gracing your face again. Steven can feels the anxiousness falling away, already feeling comfortable in your presence, almost like he’s been around you his whole life.

“So, you wanna finish shopping with me?” You drop his hand, much to his disappointment, and reach into your pocket. You pull out a piece of paper and hold it out to him, when he opens it to see a very organised shopping list he almost squeals. He even thinks he might love you already and he only met you a few minutes ago. “Why don’t you check off the list and I’ll push the cart?” You pull a pen out of your pocket and he accepts it with a smile. He appreciates the way you don’t require him to verbally communicate, happily starting to walk a little further down the aisle with Steven closely walking next to you.

Steven follows you around like a little puppy, he almost feels like a child when he preens at the praise you give him for finding the spaghetti that was on the list. Telling him he did a good job as he crosses it off the list and moves on to the next item with a smile. He likes when you call him ‘honey’ again after thanking him for pulling another item off the shelf for you but he especially likes when your hand returns to rubbing his back while you stand at the checkout. Steven wonders if it’s something you do with Marc, whether it’s something you do to comfort him or even yourself. You do it so absentmindedly as you people watch, waiting for your turn to be severed and Steven loves it. The domesticity of it all warms his heart but he wants more, more of this, more of you. The thought scares him a little, you're Marc’s partner and he’s sure Marc might be a little mad if he tells him about these rapidly growing feelings. But he’s pulled out of his thoughts when your hand gently grips his to tug him along, “come on, our turn.” And he’s back to just enjoying the domesticity, of being with you while he can, he’ll think about how to talk to Marc later.

series masterlist

#moon knight #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fanfic #moon knight x reader #steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant x gender neutral reader #steven grant x you #steven grant my beloved #marc spector x gender neutral reader #marc spector x reader #marc spector #marc spector x you #steven grant fanfiction #marc spector fanfiction #steven grant fluff #marc spector fluff

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waffletheorist · 3 months

Text

Just finished.

So people liked my Linksona, the Hero of Simulation. And after some prompting from my little brother, I have decided to write something on him. I have never posted my own writing online before, so any advice or guidance will be appreciated. This is his first meeting with the Chain, content below the cut.

TW: Brief mentions of sleep deprivation, hallucinations, insomnia, mild violence.

Link's bad sleeping habits were beginning to have consequences. It was 2:00 a.m, on a rainy Monday afternoon in January. He was in his room, with it's green painted walls, hastily made bed, mildly cluttered desk, and abundance of Zelda posters and consoles, including the N64 passed down to him by his father. He had been doing homework up late, running on God knows how many cups of pure caffeine, (again) when he glanced outside his window and through the rain, saw a Lizalfos. He glanced back to his work, and out the window again, coming to the immediate conclusion that he's hallucinating as a result of sleep deprivation. The lizalfos was still there, alongside a mesmerizing triangular gateway, purple in colour, which immediately piqued his curiosity, he had always had an interest in the fantastical after all, how could he not when named after a videogame hero?

Suddenly, the Lizalfos turned towards him. Beady red eyes glared at him through the darkness and rain, and Link shrank back, before putting on a brave face. It is only a hallucination after all, it can't hurt him, right? He turns back to his maths work, staring longingly at his N64 before snapping himself back to reality. The logical part of his brain tells him it's probably best not to pay any mind to the bizarre hallucinations outside his window, while the impulsive part screams at him to pack his bags, grab his sword (from where?), and become the fictional Hero his parents named him after. He shot his homework one last guilty look, the pen still held in his Triforce-tattooed left hand, before deciding that it wouldn't be any harm if he just took a quick stroll outside, and the fresh air would probably be good for him anyway! Even though it's still dark, raining and around 2 in the morning.

He grabs his phone from it's resting place on his desk, and empties out his school bag. He thinks back to the Lizalfos. It's scales were shining, black as night, and it looked like the kind from Ocarina of Time. If a Lizalfos was there, then surely Hyrule was through the portal? In that case, it might be best to pack his Hyrule Historia. Not that he's wasting any thoughts on his hallucinations though, that would be ridiculous. He shoves some more items into his bag, including a lighter, solar powered phone charger, deodorant and some clothes. He takes note of the rain outside, and also decides to bring an umbrella. After some searching, he discovers it by the door. He puts on his trainers (or sneakers for the Americans reading) and his coat, which is an appealing shade of sage green with many pockets on both the inside and outside, and after taking one last look at himself in the mirror, he steps through the door, locks it behind him, opens up his umbrella, and sets off around the side of his house to face the portal and the Lizalfos, forgoing all self preservation instincts because:

A: It's just a hallucination, so it's probably not even going to be there when he turns the corner!

B: It's a portal, and a Zelda enemy in *real life*, there's no way he's missing this, even if he dies, he's taking a photo, and heading through that portal, this could be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

C: He had no regard for his own life in the first place, he's a Link, and although the thought of leaving his dog does sadden him, she'll be in good hands with his brother.

He makes his way outside, pale (probably Vitamin D deficient) skin standing out as a stark contrast to the darkness around him, the rain beating down mercilessly on his umbrella as the puddles grow continually deeper on the path around him, wet grass glistening in the moonlight. His home is in the countryside, it's only neighbours being the fields owned by the farmers, which stank of slurry, the abandoned property that some land developers were looking to purchase a few years ago, and finally the other home across the road with the old, friendly St. Bernard dog who had been there for as long as Link could remember. It was an isolated place, and tended to smell, but it was home. He opened the gate to the back garden, but just as he was about to look around the corner, he felt a presence behind him.

Link let out a rather unheroic high pitched scream the moment he felt the choking grip fasten around his neck. Now he was sure. This wasn't some hallucination, this was reality, and he was in danger. Adrenaline coursed through his veins as his fight, flight or freeze response kicked in. The lizard hissed ominously in his ear. He could feel the spiked metal plates of armour rubbing uncomfortably against him. Why, oh why, did he let his curiosity get the better of him? He should've just kept doing his homework. His desperate shouts were quickly muffled by the creature's scaly arms covering his mouth. In that moment, Link knew he had to make a decision, and quickly, as the pressure around his throat increased. He was sure to black out if he didn't act now.

Link bit down. Hard. The Lizalfos yelped in pain and surprise, pulling its arm away. Link fell to the ground painfully, his neck still in pain from the force of the creature's choke. He stumbled backwards, and the creature turned to him, enraged by his audacity. It unsheathed a cruel, jagged blade from its side, teeth bared and snarling as it stalked towards Link. 'It's not real, it's only a nightmare', he repeated to himself like a mantra in his head. The monster raised it's sword, dark metal glinting in the light of the stars, as Link accepted his demise at the hands of this glorified lizard. Not quite how he wanted to go out, explosions would've been more fun, but alas. There's no way out now.

But then...

Link fell.

He was surrounded by an endless swirling abyss, a feeling of weightlessness as his stomach dropped. He felt sick. He shut his eyes, trying to block out the emptiness around him that seems to force it's way into his mind. He screamed again, but he couldn't hear anything, and the oppressive nothingness closed in around him, stifling and disorienting him.

Link woke up. At first, a feeling of relief coursed through his system. It was only a nightmare after all. But as the fogginess cleared from his mind, he saw that he was in unfamiliar surroundings. He heard voices around him.

"20 Rupees says they're dead."

"Vet, no."

"I think they're alive."

"That was a rather nasty fall, somebody get them a health potion."

"On it!"

"From a portal, maybe they're a spy of the shadow!"

"Their ears are strange."

"Most people have ears like that where I'm from."

"Really?"

"M'hm."

"I've seen ears like that in Hytopia. It'd explain their fashion sense if they're from there as well."

The voices all blended together. Link couldn't make sense of it all through his headache. Everything hurt. He jolted up with a start after remembering what happened, headbutting some unfortunate person who happened to be too close, as they fell back with an "ouch!" and forced his eyes open to come face to face with... his childhood heroes. Immediately, he's a deer in headlights. They're **real?** They're in front of him?

"Aw, looks like he's alive after all." A pink haired teen calls, wearing a familiar hat.

"Who would you be?" An older hero asks.

Link would recognise those markings anywhere. They're from the Fierce Deity. Then that must be the Hero of Time. He got *old*.

"I'm... Link. Same as all of you." Link replies.

"Another one? Isn't nine enough?" The pink haired one calls again. Must be the Hero of Legend from a Link to the Past with that hair.

The Hero of Time's expression hardens. Another hero. Another person forced to fight through so much suffering by his cruel destiny.

"A hero?" Asked the Hero of Wilds. With that blue Champion's Tunic, he's easily identifiable. Although Link doesn't recognise that scarring, that wasn't there in-game.

"Yes? Maybe?" Link replies.

"What does that mean?" The Hero of Wilds asks.

"Well, I donate to charity, and I saved a squirrel the other day when walking my dog."

"What about the kingdom? Have you saved the kingdom?" The Hero of the Wilds asks impatiently.

"The kingdom? I mean I guess? On a technicality I have?" Link replies.

All the heroes look dumbfounded.

"How can you save it on a *technicality*? You either save it or you don't, no technicalities there." The Hero of Legend asks, an underlying tone of snark to his voice.

"Well, it wasn't really real?" Link replies, just as confused.

A collective 'ohhhhhh' is shared among the heroes. A few have had adventures in worlds that weren't truly real. That must be the case with this one too, or so they thought.

"We can't call you Link, do you have any other nicknames?" The Hero of Winds asks, easily recognisable in his blue Island Lobster Shirt.

Link pauses, trying to think of a cool name. Most of his online names are things he made up at age 12, and he doesn't want to be called by his TLoZ speedrunning aliases or any of his school nicknames while here. Hero of Videogames or Games just makes him sound less serious. What's a fancier word for that?

"I'm... The Hero of Simulation."

#linksona #linkeduniverse #legend of zelda #linked universe

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eagle-writes · 4 months

Note

(not a request)

hello! i am a fellow novice calligrapher and i have a question that concerns a dip pen i have. if you're not looking to give advice right now, that's totally okay!

so i am trying to write with the waterman "serenity blue" ink using a dip pen with a wide-ish nib (i don't remember the exact size, probably around 2.5mm), but when i try to write with it sometimes, no ink flows out. i have been swirling the tip of the nib in the cap of the ink bottle just to get some of the left over ink onto the nib because, when there is already wet ink on the page, it writes perfectly. i am not explaining this very well.

here is a 2-minute video of me misspelling "porridge" as "porride" with the offending phenomenon.

the attachment wasn't working so i uploaded it to youtube

any advice (or non-advice) you have would be much appreciated!

thanks and have a good day!

Absolutely happy to advise!

Two things immediately spring to mind:

The first, and most common issue, is that your nib could use some more cleaning. To properly diagnose this I’d need to see the underside of the nib and how the ink is behaving - is it give you a nice even coating of ink, or pooling up and just sliding off?

The second (and possibly more likely in this case given how your first couple letters seem fine) is that this is just how dip nibs behave.

Now, I’m not saying they should completely stop working, but you kinda have to nudge them to get the ink flowing. This can either be a little sideways movement (look at how the P and o seemed to work mostly fine) or setting the nib down and waiting for a sec before starting the stroke if you don’t want a serif.

I haven’t done intense study of calligraphy, but I would not be surprised if this behavior is *why* hands like italic have the little starting serif - because that’s just what it takes to get the ink flowing.

Hopefully this helps - if anything didn’t make sense, let me know and I’ll find better resources/do a video.

#calligraphy help

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wanderlust-in-my-soul · 4 months

Text

15 people, 15 questions

I got tagged by @ppeonppeonhan @wen-kexing-apologist and @troubled-mind a while ago and finally found the peace in mind to answer these quetions. The holidays are always a stressful time and it feels like I don't have any time for myself to do things... I heard it gets worse the older you get and now I am afraid the next years are going to be over in a blink of an eye 😅 There are so many things I want to do! Anyway, thank you for the tag! 🥰

1. Are you named after anyone?

Nope. My parents liked the name and that is the whole story 😊

2. When was the last time you cried?

A few days ago I watched Howl's Moving Castle and was crying like a baby. I love this movie and what it does to me!

3. Do you have kids?

No, and I don't want to have kids. I like them, I love my niece and nephew, but I don't want my own.

4. What sports do you play/have you played?

I have played softball (Pitcher and Third Base) until I moved and didn't like the local team. So I stopped. I did a little bit Krav Maga, but stopped after my friend stopped too. Yeah, I don't like doing such things on my own.

5. Do you use sarcasm?

Yes. Often and with pleasure.

6. What’s the first thing you notice about people?

It depends? Like appereance wise I guess a facial thing that stands out for me and as soon as I talk to them I listen to their tone and how they talk to me and others.

7. What’s your eye color?

Bluish with a hint of grey and yellow.

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

I hate scary movies. The last scary movie I watched was The Grudge 2 and that fucked with my brain. After the Exorcist I couldn't sleep in peace for a long time. So no horror for me. I do love Vampires and Witches and don't mind those scary movies and Sc-Fi is totally fine with me too - I love the Alien movies, could watch them over and over again (Part 2 is my favorite), but I hate movies like Event Horizon... So I go with happy endings. I love happy endings, but I have watched enough queer movies to appreciate a good sad ending in the right setting. Not every fucking story needs a sad ending, movie industry! There are happy queer stories! Tell them please! One reason why I love bl so much 😊

9. Any talents?

I try to be more self-confident, so: I have many different talents. I have a talent for seeing the beauty in a bad situation. I can comfort my friends and family and give them good advices and make people laugh. I have a talent to learn. I do have different talents and I am proud of them and I would love others to see themselfes with more patience and love and kindness to own their talents, to be proud of them, even though they think, this is lame or nothing special.

10. Where were you born?

Germany. This should be enough information.

11. What are your hobbies

Whatching beautiful series and talk about them or photoshop the shit out of my favorite scenes. And I do have a life besides all that (even if I don't know how I manage to have social contacts with this many shows to watch 😅). But I do Journaling (Bullet Journal and Junk Journal) and I play some "The Dark Eye" and other pen & paper roll-playing games with my friends.

12. Do you have any pets?

No. I always wanted a cat, but I just realised this isn't a good idea. I love to travel and I don't want my pet to be stressed because there are other people coming to their home to feed them and don't play with them and so on. And I work fulltime and won't have that much time for the pet. I do take care of the pets from friends, but most of the times I just move to their homes for the period and spend the days and nights with their beloved pets so they don't feel lonely. It is like a little vacation for me too 😅

13. How tall are you?

I am a tall girl.

14. Favorite subject in school?

German, sports, philosophy and arts.

15. Dream job?

I had so many over the years. But right now I dream of having my own little queer book store with one or two cats and coffee, tea and hot chocolate for the customers and on weekends I would sell selfmade cookies or cake. That would be so lovely.

I don't know who of you already done this one. I am still tagging you and if you have, please just tag me in a comment so I can read a little bit about you 🥰 And as always: If you don't want to play along, just ignore me 🤍 @pose4photoml @leonpob @nieves-de-sugui @bl-bam-beyond @maxescheibechlinichacheli

#tag game #personal #about me #15 questions #thank you for the tags! 🧡

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