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#But just a reflection of how I see your blogs and posts and why I love you all
erathene · 1 month
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I send you 🥑 !
🥑 ⇢ you accidentally killed somebody, which mutual(s) do you text for help?
Somehow I know exactly who I would call and why??
@sotwk because she would probably tell me that it wasn't my fault, that guy deserved it, and that everything is going to be okay. Basically give me mom vibes 🥰
@torturedhoesdepartment would probably help me hide the body (sorry haha 😅), I'm sure I've seen in her tags she's studying nursing too which would probably came in handy in case my guy fought back.
@emmanuellececchi would help me work out my alibi because this lady plans her writing and world building so meticulously it's unreal. She'd probably also bring cupcakes.
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girlvinland · 2 years
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Ok bear with me this kind of exploded in the tags bc I just started thinking about it more and like ohh.
Random thought came to me this morning about how when I use to RP Will I HC’d the mask being a thing he used to kind of blot out some of the world because it all felt so loud and bright and it was easier for him to focus his psychic energies with it on, but then I was like wait this sounds familiar to my own experience and maybe I just didn’t realize the connections then but I have pretty bad photosensitivity and get overstimulated/overwhelmed super easy when I’m in crowds and things like that and now I’m like. Ah. If I had known it then I think I just would’ve made that part of the HC lol.
Also it’s just a fucking. Blast to the past looking at that old blog. I am still kinda proud of the name tbh lol bc it was @d-esper-ado (like desperado but with esper in the name, yeah it’s cheesy whatever).
#by bug#idk I like giving chars things I experience or relate to bc it’s easier for me to write from a place of understanding#even if it’s something like that that’s kind of minor in the grand scheme of things#i know some people don’t like that but for me it kind of helps release some of the stress associated w things like that#also surprised to see my Will blog hasn’t kicked the bucket yet but I’m still glad I backed it up#but anyway thinking of the post above and these things being put into chars that reflect my own experience#all of this was also waaaaay before my doctors first brought up adhd to me#and it was something I NEVER considered for myself bc like a lot of ppl my age#I thought it was a thing that mostly affected amab ppl and was you know all those stereotypes of what ppl thought of#and I remember the first time my therapist brought it up I went home to kind of look at symptoms and was like#oh everything in my life has just been explained to me#the things like I mentioned in the posts#people calling me flaky and telling me how much I interrupt#always feeling kind of..out of place among people at work or school or wherever and being called ‘weird’ but not really getting why#masking to prevent that#and priding myself on being a ‘social chameleon who gets along w anyone’ bc I HAD too to not be seen as weird#not ever realizing how detrimental that actually was for ME#my mom saying my entire like ‘you get so obsessed with things you can memorize all these other things but not school stuff’#or zeke like ‘I can literally track your fixations by seeing the pictures you save on your phone’#the meltdowns I’d have when I got too overwhelmed#and the inability to concentrate on anything like for real it was just like the answer to EVERYTHING#and I’m honestly really salty a lot of the time bc I wish to GOD they had done more research on this when I was a kid#so I could have learned how to cope with it better and shit#i think learning more skills earlier would have helped a lot#anyway that’s my ramble for the morning good day#I told you there was a tag explosion#I warned you#also do I HC Will having adhd idfk but I do like the photosensitivity thing for him lol#and just him getting overstimulated easily and having a physical item to help prevent it
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httpdwaekki · 2 months
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worship | s.c.
summary: you don’t feel beautiful but changbin shows you just how beautiful you are.
wc: 4.6k
warning: SMUT 18+ (MDNI), tall!chubby!afab!reader, praise kink, body worship, negative self-talk, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap in), oral (read rec), nipple play, aftercare, tried to keep it as gender neutral as possible but written as afab!reader, probably more, read at your own risk.
a/n: minors and ageless blogs DNI. i will be blocking anyone that interacts with this post that is a minor/ageless blog. okayyyy, this is my first smut and i of course had to write it about my favorite boy <3 let me know what you think! anyway, i hope you enjoy! remember to eat, drink water and take your meds, ily <3
my library
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(pictures are not mine! credit to owners!)
you weren’t always the most comfortable in your skin growing up. you were taller, and on the chubbier side for as long as you can remember. it always bothered you, you got treated differently from your skinnier friends.
you got stares not only for your height but your weight, you certainly didn’t get approached by boys and if you did they were trying to use you to get to your friends. you got used to it, you got depressed, and got into a really dark place.
but you slowly realized that if no one was gonna love you for you, then you were going to have to. and that’s what you did, you embraced every roll, every curve, every stretch mark. and you loved yourself like no else has. but then you met one seo changbin.
and if you thought no one could love you more, you were very mistaken. he proved to you everyday how much he loved you, every flaw, every strength, every high, every low. his love was truly unconditional.
and as much as he showed you how much he loved you, you were of course going to have your bad days. days where you don’t feel good about yourself, where you want to hide from the world, where you feel so uncomfortable in your own skin you almost wish you could rip it off.
and that’s exactly how you felt today. you laid on your couch in the biggest shirt you had, with an even bigger blanket around you, swallowing you into a fuzzy cocoon.
you were barely watching what was playing on the tv in front of you when you heard the familiar sound of the lock of your front door clicking, signaling it being unlocked. you know exactly who it was, you didn’t even have to move. you knew he was showing up sooner or later to figure out why you hadn’t been acting like yourself.
he had tried to ask but you shut him down every time. you knew he was busy and you didn’t want to burden him with your issues and especially when you knew the feelings would pass sooner or later.
you hear him lock the door once more before taking his shoes off and setting his bag down. he then makes his way into your living room finding you in your cocoon, long legs curled up as much as they could be. you look up at him, big eyes reflecting the forgotten show on your tv.
your eyes follow him as he makes his way, squatting next to your cocoon. he raises a hand, brushing the soft surface of your chubby cheeks, “hi my baby.” he coos, eyes bright, finally getting to see his favorite person. “hi bin.” you mumble, leaning into his warm touch.
“you wanna tell me what’s been going on, hm?” you feel your face heat up, bringing your hands up to cover your face, inherently halting his movements and touch.
“hey, baby, look at me,” he gently grabs your hands, holding them in his. “what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, hm?” you shake your head, feeling all of the emotions you’ve been trying to ignore. “baby i can’t help if you don’t talk to me.” thumbs slowly stroking the back of your hands.
“i just don’t feel beautiful right now, bin.” you whisper, shaking your head. “and i know it’s just my brain being mean but fuck bin, it hurts and i don’t want to believe it but it’s so hard when it’s me.” you’re staring at your connected hands, avoiding the eyes of the man in front of you.
he lets go of one of your hands, gently placing it under your chin to lift your eyes to his. “you gotta tell me when you feel like this, okay?” he pauses. “you are the most beautiful, gorgeous person i’ve ever laid my eyes on.” he places a gentle kiss to your hand.
“will you tell me what’s going through your head so i can prove it wrong?” you think about it for a moment, the one person in your life that always makes you feel loved and seen is asking to show you how much he loves you. and who the hell are you to say no.
“i just,” you pause, moving to sit up, crossing your legs in front of you, binnie’s hands laying on top of them. “i hate that my thighs are so big or that my stomach is pudgy or i’m so fucking tall and i just wish that i loved the way i looked because i fucking hate feeling this way.” you must admit, it did feel good to finally get it off your chest, it however didn’t quiet your brain or the negative thoughts that continued to run rampant through them.
“will you let me show you how gorgeous you are?” he asks, rubbing the exposed skin of your calf. you looked into his eyes once more, finding nothing but love and sincerity. you nod your head slightly, before he moved to his knees before you,
he grabs your cheek once more, bringing you closer before placing his lips on yours. he’s placing gentle strokes on your cheek with his thumb, as his lips move against yours. he eventually starts to move further down, kissing the length of your jaw, down to the sweet spot, just below your ear.
he stays there for a moment, interchanging between kissing and sucking the soft skin, pulling light whimpers from you. “look at you, sounding so pretty for me already.” he praises before placing one last kiss, moving to his feet.
he grabs your hand, pulling you from the couch and your warm cocoon. “if i’m gonna show you, i’m gonna do it right.” he says before picking you up with ease, taking you to your bedroom where he lays you on the bed.
“move to the middle, bunny.” he requests, tapping the side of your thigh. you do as he says, laying in the middle before he moves to hover over you. “look at you, my pretty baby.” he kisses your jaw once more, moving down for the second time. this time he starts placing kisses down your clothed sternum.
once he reaches your belly, he lifts your shirt up, just enough, to expose it to him. he starts placing slow, loving kisses over each roll and curve the soft surface has to offer. “you see this gorgeous tummy? so soft just for me. it holds all of the important things your body needs to keep you with me.” he starts, still placing kisses.
“and hopefully will one day carry our mini me into the world.” your eyes soften, hands finding their way into the soft raven curls that lay atop his head. “you’re gonna make me cry.” you mumble, scratching softly at his scalp. “it’s true though.”
he gives your stomach one last kiss before moving your shirt up once more. this time exposing your bare breasts to him. “and these,” he pauses, bringing his hands up to sofft brush the sides. “god these are so fucking perfect jagi.” he places kisses around each nipple, softly brushing his lips against them.
“the perfect pillows, so soft and the noises you make when i touch them?” he takes a nipple into his mouth, gently sucking it, his tongue flicking the peaked bud. you let out a high pitched moan, tighten the grip on his hair slightly, resulting in a satisfied hum from the man above you.
“so fucking pretty baby.” he says before moving the next bud, gently rolling the previous one between his fingers. repeating the same process, you let out another moan, squeezing your thighs together, feeling the wet spot in your panties getting bigger.
he finally releases your nipple placing a kiss to each one before he leans back. “sit up for a second.” you sit up, allowing him to take the shirt off before he moves you to lean comfortably against the pillows. he places a kiss to the side of your mouth before moving to your shoulder, kissing all the way down your arms, until he reaches you hand entwining your fingers.
“and these arms, that hold me with such love and care.” he kisses your other arm. “and take care of me so well, whenever i need it most.” he places a kiss to each shoulder and each hand before positioning himself between your legs. not before gving your tummy a few extra kisses on the way down.
he starts by kissing your panty line, placing a kiss on the now obvious wet spot. you let a soft sigh before looking down, catching a glimpse of the obvious proud smirk on his pretty face. “ and don’t even get me started on these fucking legs.” he sits back on his heels, grabbing one leg, placing a kiss on the inside of your knee.
“so fucking long, and beautiful, god you have no idea what they do to me.” he grabs the other one, placing a kiss in the same place. “now for my favorite part, your beautiful thighs.” kissing up the inside of them, nipping the skin, right next to where you needed him the most.
“look at them baby, so big and beautiful,” he switches to the other side. “and they way they feel wrapped around my head while i’m making you feel good?” his arms coming up to caress the sides of them. “i could stay like that all day jagiya.” he places one last kiss to each one, before bringing a hand up to gently rub the wet spot on your pink panties.
“and my favorite treat, so ready and so fucking pretty for me as always baby.” he places soft kisses to the wet fabric before sitting up, tapping your hip, signaling you to lift them. he quickly slides them off, throwing them some place in the room before moving back between your plush thighs.
he wraps his arms around your hips, pulling you forward a bit, finally settling there. he brings one hand back around to spread you wet lips. “always ready for me, huh bubs?” he lightly blows, making you whine a bit. “i know baby, i know. i just wanted to look at my pretty baby for a little bit.”
he brings his arms back to rest around your soft thighs before placing a kiss to your inner thigh, slowly making his way to your pussy. placing light kisses to your lips before finally placing a kiss to your bundle of nerves. you whimper at the minimal stimulation, “binnie, please.” you beg, looking down to find that same proud smirk on his face.
“my pretty baby feeling needy?” he teases, still lightly pressing kisses to your clit. you nod, pouting, hoping he’ll cave and give you what you want. “okay jagi, i’m sorry.” he gives your clit one last kiss before licking a stripe from your dripping hole, to your sensitive clit.
your back arches slightly, mouth agape, at the feeling of finally getting the stimulation you’ve been waiting for. your hand finds his raven curls once more as he then fully takes your clit in his mouth, alternating between sucking and flicking the sensitive bud.
you moan, lightly scratching his scalp, as he continues his work on your bud. “feels good baby?” he asks, mouth still against you. you nod, another moan leaving your mouth as he gently grazes you clit with his teeth.
you feel a finger rub at your entrance before he fully inserts it, curling it slightly. your hand tightens around his curls for a moment, as a whine leaves your mouth. “more please.” you beg, feeling the knot in your tummy already begin to tighten. “patience baby, i got you.”
he adds a second finger, picking up the pace slightly, causing your legs to tighten around him. the way he’s using your clit and hitting that sweet spot perfectly feels euphoric. “binnie,” you moaned, “i’m close.” you warned, back arching off the mattress, hand tightening in his curls once more.
this only prompts him to quicken his movements, sucking on your clit a little harder. your whimpers and moans get louder and louder as you get closer and closer to your release. “please,” you beg, teetering on the edge of cumming. “binnie, don’t stop, i’m so close.” you whimper, your free hand coming up to play with your peaked bud.
“you gonna cum pretty?” he asks against your clit. you moan a small “mhm” telling him all he needs to know. “so cum baby, let me see how pretty my baby looks when i’m making them feel good.” that sends you over the edge, throwing your head back, thighs tighten around his head, fingers tightening in his hair as you cum.
he works you through your high, taking out his fingers, taking all you have to offer. your fingers release his hair, relaxing back into the mattress as you come down. you whimper as he still flicks your sensitive bud with his tongue. you push his head away softly, feeling slightly overstimulated.
“give me one more pretty.” he says, inserting his fingers once more. “let me make you feel good, baby.” his movements are quicker this time. your noises becoming high pitched as you get closer to your second release.
“binnie!” you cry, legs shaking slightly at the stimulation. he adds a third finger, stretching you even more. “there you go my pretty baby,” he continues his work before speaking again, “looking so beautiful for me.” his mouth back on you, moving with fever to get you to your release once more.
“ah!” you wail. “binnie-“ you cut yourself off with a load moan. “come on gorgeous, let go, show me how beautiful you are.” you’re cumming again, legs shaking, tightening around his head once more. both hands grabbing your boobs as your back arches off the bed.
“there you go, good job baby, did so good.” he says as you finally relax into the mattress once more. your breathing heavily, trying to regain your composure as he pulls out his fingers. he places a slow, soft kiss to your clit before placing one to each of your inner thighs.
he sits up, licking his fingers before hovering over you once more. he kisses you, tasting yourself slightly on his tongue. “so beautiful baby.” he says against your lips. “always sound so pretty when you cum.” he kisses you again. “you look even prettier.” he kisses you once more before leaning back, taking off his shirt, throwing it somewhere in the room.
you take in the beautiful man in front of you, aching once again even after two orgasms. you sit up, leaning forward, pulling him into a feverous kiss, hands finding his pecs, working their way down to his abdomen. you make your way down his neck, finding his own sweet spot, pulling a groan from him.
you whine as he pulls you away, pout present on your swollen lips. “i know jagi but this is about you, not me.” he brings a hand back to your soft cheek, caressing it once more before placing a quick kiss to the other one. “lay back down bunny.”
he gets off the bed as you lay back down against the pillows. you watch as he slides his pants down, stepping out of them, kicking them to the side. he grabs the waistband of his boxers, pulling it down, releasing his hard length, thick and leaking against his soft tummy.
you squeeze your thighs together as he tosses the fabric to the side. he climbs over you once again, this time carefully spreading your legs, leaning down to place a kiss to your inner thighs “so beautiful.” mumbles against your soft skin before placing a gentle kiss to your clit, making you jolt from the contact.
he kisses his way back up you body, sparing extra kisses to your soft tummy, and of course one to each nipple. he kisses up your sternum, up your throat to jaw before he pulls away to look at you. you swear you could see hearts in his eyes as he looked down at you.
“hi pretty.” he whispers, eyes gleaming. his hand was resting on the bed next to your head, the other one rubbing small circles on your plush thighs that laid upon his. “hi bub.” you whisper back, face warm. “how’re you feeling, hm?” you smile at his question, bringing your hand up to rest on his puffy cheek.
“really good jagi, thank you.” he smiles, pressing a deep kiss to your lips. he leans against you, his body pressing against you. you feel his hard length slide between your wet folds, brushing against your bundle of nerves.
you let out a soft moan against his lip, as he pushes your thigh to the side, allowing him more access to your core. his lips never leaving yours as he rubs little circles on your clit. you pull away, letting out a whimper as he continues his movements.
“feel good, jagi?” he asks, capturing your lips once more. you nod against him, your hand coming up to grip his bicep. he pulls away once more, but continues rubbing circles to your sensitive nub.
“you ready my baby?” you nod, another moan falling from your lips. “i gotta hear you say it, bunny.” you whine. “i’m ready binnie, please i need you.” satisfied with your answer he places another kiss to your swollen lips and his lines up to your entrance.
your mouth falls open and he pushes into you, your grip tightening around his bicep. “fuck.” you whisper against his lips. he’s stretching you out in the best way possible. he’s stills once he’s fully in, giving you a moment to adjust.
his hand rests on your hip, softly caressing your skin as you adjust to his size. he’s placing kisses to the side of your mouth, your jaw, your cheek before he places his forehead against yours. “you okay, pretty?” you nod against his forehead.
“i’m so okay, you have no idea.” you giggle, causing him to smile. “i’m gonna move now okay?” you nod once again. “okay.” you confirm, your body relaxing into the mattress below you. he places one last kiss to your lips before sitting up a bit.
he places one hand on your plush thigh while the other grabs your waist. he pulls out just to fully push back in, pulling a moan from you. “fuck bin, oh my god.” your hand once again finding the soft flesh of your chest. “that’s it baby, sound so pretty while i’m making you feel good.”
he’s slowly thrusting into you, drinking in the way your body reacts to him. he picks up the pace slightly, “play with your pretty nipples for me baby.” you do as he says, clenching around him and you play with the hard buds. “fuck bunny, you’re squeezing me so good.” he moans, throwing his head back for a moment.
he looks godly above you, you arch your back at the sight causing him to hit that sweet spot inside of you. you let out a particularly high pitched moan at the feeling, causing him to snap his head back down, catching the sight of you arched infront of him.
he slows down, reaching for an extra pillow that you’re not leaning against. you let out a whine, relaxing your back. “relax jagi, i’m just getting you a pillow.” he pulls out and taps your hip. “lift up for me baby.” you lift your hips and he slides the pillow under you.
“okay bunny, lay back down.” you lay back into the mattress, and he pushes your legs open once more. “my pretty bunny is so obedient.” he leans down, arm next to your head as he kisses you. he rubs your sensitive clit once again, pulling whimper from you.
“just like that, look at this beautiful body. jagi.” he says against your lips, still rubbing little circles on your clit. “so soft and perfect, just for me.” you bring your hands back up, one on your tit the other wrapping around his shoulder.
“binnie please.” you beg, needing to be filled again. “i got you baby don’t worry.” he stops his movements on your clit to line himself once more, slowly pushing in. the new angle making it feel intoxicating as he pushed into you.
“oh fuck, baby, fuck.” you cried, digging your nails into his shoulder. “yeah? that feel good?” he starts thrusting into you. “my baby is making such pretty noises for me.” you’ve lost your train of thought, your mind only filled with binnie and the way he’s making you feel right now.
“oh-, bin-, fuck-“ you couldn’t get a coherent sentence out. truly being fucked dumb by the man above you. “that’s it bunny, just empty that pretty little brain of yours.” he slid his arm under your neck, pressing his body into yours. he brought his other hand to your clit, rubbing small circles as he increased his pace.
“oh god! binnie!” you wail, your legs wrapping around his waist. “wrap those pretty long legs around me bunny, there you go.” he places kisses along your jaw, both your arms wrapped around him, pulling him impossibly closer. one hand finding its way into his hair, as you turn your head into him.
“oh my god.” you groan into his ear, pulling at his hair slightly. “my beautiful baby feels so good for me.” he moans in your ear, causing you to clench around him. he groans, “fuck, you like when i call you my beautiful baby?” you cry out, nodding against him.
“is my pretty bunny about to cum?” your toes curl, feeling that familiar knot tightening in your tummy. “yes, yes, i’m-“ you cut yourself off with a cry, it’s almost too much pleasure, almost. “you’re close jagi i know, fuck.” his breathing getting heavier and heavier letting you know he’s close too.
“can you hold on for me?” you let out a high pitched whine. “i know pretty, just a little longer.” you whine again. “you can’t-“ you cut yourself off, trying to focus on anything but how good his making you feel. “you can’t, tell me to wait-“ you let out a moan, “and then call me pretty- oh fuck.” you feel it getting tighter, seconds away from snapping.
“i can’t, why not pretty? hm, cause my gorgeous baby is about to cum? is that it?” you cry out at his words, his teasing only egging you on. he leans down to your ear, still keeping his pace, hitting your sweet spot and rubbing your clit so deliciously. “so then cum bunny. show me how fucking perfect my jagiya is.” that’s all it takes, you let out a scream, the pleasure overwhelming you.
“fuck!” you tighten your legs around him, as much as you can as they’re shaking, toes curling as your orgasm rips through you. nails digging into his shoulder as you grab onto whatever you can to keep you grounded. “good job pretty, that’s my baby.” he’s fucking you through your high as you feel his hip stutter.
“fuck, bunny.” his thrusts are getting sloppy, knowing he’s close. “give it to me binnie. show me how much you love me.” and with that he’s cumming in your pretty pussy. he gives a few more thrusts before he stills in you, laying on top of you.
you both lay there, catching your breath, coming down from your highs. you’re the first to move, arms still wrapped around him, carding your fingers through his hair, placing kisses on the side of his head. he finally ground’s himself, placing a kiss to your shoulder, before moving to hover over you, your hands falling, landing on the back of his neck.
he looks down at you with nothing but love as he places his hand to your cheek, gently rubbing it. “you are so beautiful, my love.” your face warms once again. “thank you binnie, i love you.” he leans down, capturing your lips in a deep kiss.
“i love you more my perfect jagi.” he says against your lips, causing a smile to spread across them. “i’m gonna pull out now okay? then we’ll get cleaned up and relax.” you nodded, stealing a quick peck before he leaned back, your legs falling onto the mattress as he pulled out. he hissed as he did, pulling a small whimper from you at the emptiness.
he, watches as his cum pours out of you, effectively ruining your sheets but he couldn’t care less. he leans down, kissing each thigh again, placing a soft kiss to your swollen clit, causing you to flinch. then your hips, making his way up, kissing every curve and roll on your soft tummy, giving each nipple their own kiss before finally making it back to your lips.
“my gorgeous, gorgeous bunny.” you smile pulling him closer, wrapping your legs around him once again, deepening the kissing. he pulls back, tapping the side of your ass, “come on, let’s get you cleaned up so you can relax.” he moves off the bed, quickly finding his boxers before pulling them back on.
he turns around to find you sitting on the bed, he picks you up bringing you to your bathroom, setting you on the counter. he turns on the bath, making it nice and warm before plugging the drain and putting your lavender bubble bath in.
walking back over to you, he picks you up once again, setting you on the toilet, placing a kiss to your head, “i’m gonna go change the sheets quick, i’ll be right back.” you nod at him, smiling as he makes his exit, closing the door behind him.
you quickly use the bathroom before stepping into the nice warm bath. he opens the door 10 minutes later, with towels, setting them on the counter before removing his boxers. you move forward as he approaches the tub to give him enough room to sit behind you.
once in the tub he pulls you back to him, wrapping his arms around you, showering you in kisses once more. you grab both hands, entwining his hands with yours, giving each hand a kiss, “thank you, for everything.” you turn your head to look back at him. “you’re the best person i know and i really don’t know what i’d do without you.”
he pulls you into another kiss before you relax against him once more. “you never have to thank me for telling the truth.” he pauses. “all i ask is that you tell me when you’re feeling like this so i can show you just how truly beautiful you are.” you feel a lump in your throat form at the love you feel for the man behind you.
you nod your head. “okay, i promise.” he holds you tighter, hands still connected, placing a kiss to your hair. you both stay like then until the water runs cold, draining it before you both get out, putting on the minimum amount of clothes.
making your way to your bed, with clean sheets, where you both spent the rest of the night in each other’s arms, relaxing. you’re always gonna have bad days but it’s comforting to know you’re favorite person will always be there to help you through it and make it all better.
do not repost
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missmonsters2 · 9 months
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Mirror, Mirror | Two
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Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.
PART ONE
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader
Summary: Wanda oscillates between crying and being overcome with confidence to confess. She barely has time to reflect when the devastating news arrives that you have a date, and Wanda needs to formulate a plan—quickly.
Warnings: best friends to lovers. shenanigans. jealousy, jealousy. sexual tension. pining. yearning. sexual thoughts. spicy (tumblr's version). stupid steve. neurotic nat. brat & stinky. bug as in shutterbug.
*explicit version will only be available on Ao3 & will be posted there after series is completed*
Note: cue the shenanigans of date stalking and taylor swift. Put your hands together for the real MVP of this chapter: Yelena.
Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘
Series Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3
Count: ~4.5k
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This week's philosophical question is: Is it gay to think about your best friend?
The short answer is no. The long, complicated answer is that it might be. 
There's logic and reasoning behind this because don't most people think about their best friend? Don't most people plan to have their best friend in the future? If not, then why would they be best friends in the first place?
Sadly, there's a rude awakening in Wanda's wobbly defense. Natasha is the only person to blame for blowing down her defense made of straw when Wanda chats with her on the phone in the evening while you're out for a photoshoot. 
"How's Maria doing?" Wanda asks.
"Good," Natasha answers, and Wanda can hear the tap water running and realizes the redhead is doing the dishes. "She'll be coming to visit during Christmas."
"Oh, you must be very excited!" Wanda beams. If it were her, she'd be ecstatic to be seeing you after so long. 
"Yeah, it'll be good to see her. I think she's bringing her girlfriend, Sharon. They've been seeing each other for a few months, and she doesn't have anyone to spend Christmas with since her grand-aunt passed away.
"Oh," Wanda's voice is low, brows furrowing. "That seems very fast if she's coming to spend a holiday with Maria. How do you feel about it?"
Natasha hums. "Happy, I guess? I haven't met Sharon, but I've been hearing good things about her. She's able to keep up with Maria's busy life as she's got her own, but they make time for each other."
"But what if Sharon's wrong for Maria, or Maria ends up getting hurt."
"Then I'll break Sharon's legs, but Maria's a big girl. I'll be there for her, but she'll be okay," Natasha chuckles.
"But—"
"Wanda, what's with the questions about Maria?" Natasha cuts off. "Is it something with Bug? Are you worried about Raye? She's told me they haven't even gone on a first date yet; why are you so worried?"
"It's not about that!" Wanda said defensively. "I mean—I am worried, but I just don't want her getting hurt. She's my best friend; she deserves someone perfect. Don't you want someone perfect for Maria?"
Even as the words came out of Wanda's mouth, she grimaced because she was nowhere near perfect herself. 
"Of course I do," Natasha sighs. "But unless Maria is hurting, I'm not going to get overly involved with her love life. She'll go at her own pace and update me as she goes."
"But how will you know if Maria is going to continue living away? If she gets serious with Sharon, will Maria still plan to move back here? How will you guys plan on having a wedding at the same time and picking a house in the same neighborhood?" Wanda asks seriously. Her tone is distraught because it feels like Natasha doesn't care about her best friend at all! 
There's a moment of silence on the other line before Natasha says, "We don't plan for that. I mean, I'll be bummed for sure if Maria doesn't move back but we'll always be best friends. We'll visit each other and keep in contact as often as we need, but we don't need to physically be in the same place."
And another realization slides into place. 
"How are you guys best friends?!" Wanda yells into the phone before she hangs up without another word. 
Wanda knows that she'll have to call Natasha later and apologize and say she's on her period or something, but right now, with her eyes hot and wet, she digs her face into her pillow and cries instead.
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 
"Hey, I need to head out for another shoot today. Do you want me to pick up anything for you?"
Your voice muffles through Wanda's closed door. You've come in a few times, but Wanda had stayed in bed and pretended that she might've been under the weather. 
"No," Wanda says loud enough so you can hear it. "Have fun, though."
"I'll be home soon and make you some paprikash, but there's some chicken soup in the fridge for you if you want some while I'm gone," you reply. Wanda momentarily hears your hand land on the doorknob, but you don't turn it and come in. "Feel better, brat."
You don't wait for Wanda's response even though it is a quiet, "Thanks, stinky."
Alone in the apartment once more, Wanda sighs. She's been all over the place emotionally since she last talked to Natasha on the phone. She later sent a voice memo through text apologizing and said her period just came, which explained all the craziness. Luckily, Natasha was kind enough to leave it be, but they haven't chatted much since then—mostly on Wanda's end. 
Wanda's been caught between wanting to spend more time with you and distancing herself while sorting through her feelings. It was so easy at that moment to leave Vision and feel intense jealousy of Raye, but now in their own little bubble, everything was unraveling like a poorly wrapped present. 
The only saving grace was that you and Raye couldn't align your schedules to go on a date anytime soon. Raye was out of state currently and was supposed to be traveling for work for the next few weeks, and you were confirming projects that were supposed to be for the entire month. 
The extra time was sorely appreciated. 
In short, Wanda has cried 8 times in the last week while equally getting the inspiration almost to confess 7 times. 
There was a nagging fear, though. What if you didn't feel the same? What if Wanda was reading this one gigantic sign wrong, and you simply just liked brunettes with green eyes?
Or, what if you did feel the same and things didn't work out? What if the two of you date, and it goes wonderfully well before it ends? It doesn't matter what causes the end; just what if it did?
In either scenario, things would never be the same, and Wanda would lose her best friend of 10 years. 
Although, Wanda reasons that even if she confessed and you didn't feel the same, she wouldn't actually lose you. Sure, things would never be quite the same, but the friendship would continue. They've endured much worse, and Wanda would probably get over her feelings. 
Probably. 
Because if she didn't, well, Wanda wouldn't know what to do. She's lived too long of her life with you; she can't think of what it'd be like without you. Logically, she knew she'd survive, but there'd always be a part of her missing. 
Sometimes, Wanda thinks there was always a part of her missing until the day she met you. She can still remember 10 years ago like it was yesterday.
"Wanda, it'll be fine," Pietro's accent was thick and heavy, and Wanda refused to say anything out loud to acknowledge it. 
The girls in her class were already making fun of her accent, and her attempts to talk to them were rebuffed with looks as if they couldn't believe she dared to speak to them. 
It was too difficult, Wanda thought. It was too difficult to make friends when she transferred here mid-year, and everyone had already formed their cliques since elementary.
It was hard enough with the growing changes in her 14-year-old body, and she already felt awkward all the time—the giggling behind her back and to her face wasn't helping. 
Wanda wanted to go back home to Sokovia, except there was nothing left to return to. The war had reduced everything to shambles, and everyone else in her family was happy to have been able to seek refuge in America—Rochester, specifically. 
Wanda knew she should be grateful, especially since many of her aunts, uncles, cousins, and other extended family couldn't escape. She never really had too many friends, but the few she did went to Canada, and she knew she'd unlikely ever talk to them again. 
It was a lot of change, and Pietro was the only person who understood her at this new school, but even he couldn't do much since they shared no classes together. Plus, Pietro had still managed to make a friend, and Wanda didn't have the heart to make him sit with her at lunch every day. 
"Do you want me to eat lunch with you? I can ask Sam to sit with us," Pietro offered, but Wanda shook her head. 
"Are you sure?" Pietro asked again, preparing to sit with Wanda anyway, but Wanda shook her head.
"No, it's fine. I'm just going to eat my lunch quick and head to the library to catch up on some assignments," Wanda mumbled quietly, waiting for some girls in her class to pass by before she said it. 
"Okay," Pietro said, sighing since he was conflicted about staying with his sister or heading off to hang out with his friend. But at Wanda's insistence, he merely told her where she could find him if there was anything and took off with one last glance.
When Pietro was fully out of sight, Wanda took a seat alone at an empty table, pulling out her lunch reluctantly. She was quick to notice that the American kids typically brought a plain sandwich or bought food from the cafeteria, which usually consisted of the same foods like pizza or mac and cheese. 
While the comments about the food she brought were also embarrassing, Wanda didn't have it in her to ask her mother to make something else. Money was tight, and asking to add other things to the grocery list just so she could fit in didn't seem worth it when it wouldn't do anything about the fact no one wanted to talk to her. 
So, Wanda pulled out the finomfőzelék with her breaded chicken breast. She still didn't open it and let her containers sit on the table. 
Wanda wasn't quite sure what was causing it. Maybe it was just this specific instance of sitting alone, or maybe it was the last week and a half of enduring this, but Wanda felt her eyes burn and water. She willed it with everything she had inside to not let it fall and took a deep breath. 
"Hi."
The sudden sound made Wanda's head snap up, eyes wide with surprise. You stood there, and Wanda sort of recognized you from her classes. She thought she shared all but one with you. You've never contributed to the bullying but never stopped it or talked to her, either. 
Wanda vaguely recalled you've been sick with a cold the last few days. Her eyes shifted to look behind you, and she could see your friends looking very confused and beckoning you to come back to their lunch table.
"Hi," Wanda quietly greeted you back, wincing at how the accent could even come out with one syllable. 
You sat down suddenly, clearing your throat. "Can I ask you something?"
"Okay," Wanda replied warily. 
"Do you practice witchcraft?"
The question stumped Wanda.
"What?" 
"Do you practice witchcraft?" You repeated, looking serious. 
"No," Wanda frowned, so perplexed that she couldn't even be upset about her accent. "I don't. Why would you think that?"
"Well, Hela has been spreading rumors that you're a witch from Sokovia, and that's why Mr. Coulson passed away suddenly when you came."
Then, it's suddenly so clear why no one has been talking to her. 
"But if you're not a witch cursing people to death, then that's cool," you said, interrupting Wanda's thoughts. "I wanted to ask you that earlier but then I got sick for a few days. So, do you want to hang out with me?"
Wanda just stared at you, her heart racing because finally, finally, she was going to have a friend. "Yes," Wanda replied quickly, smiling. "That'd be...cool," she repeated your slang. 
"Cool," you smiled back before pointing at her food. "Noticed you bring different food every other day. Can I try some? I'll trade you some of my sandwich. Heads up, though, my mom has been experimenting with food. This week was Chinese food, so beef and broccoli might be between the bread."
Wanda smiled at the memory, the ends of it tapering off. You changed her life, and even when Hela made fun of you, you shut her up with a comment about how she stuffed her bra. It was devastating to a 14-year-old. 
After that, the two of you were inseparable. You still occasionally hung out with your group of friends, but you definitely drifted to spend time with Wanda. 
Wanda wonders if it was actually at that moment that she fell in love with you, but at 14, she didn't know how else to interpret it other than friendship. 
You and Wanda didn't meet Nat, Steve, Bucky, and all the others until high school when the other districts were poured into one school. Since then, so much has happened. 
Your parents divorced.
Wanda's mother passed away from cancer. 
You dated Sam very briefly, giving him your first kiss and then shortly breaking up with him after. 
You came out to her, scared, hesitant, and so happy when Wanda didn't care. 
Wanda started to date Vision.
Wanda wanted to go to NYU, and you happily went there with her. 
You confessed you had a crush on Natasha but didn't want to pursue it. 
Wanda's first break-up with Vision. 
You dated Jean Grey and cried when she left you for Scott. 
When you wanted to stay in New York City, Wanda decided to stay here too, rooting her career here with you. 
Wanda wonders if maybe actually she'd fallen in love with you several times over and over but didn't know how to interpret any of her strong feelings for you, categorizing them as friendship just as she did when she was 14.
"I'm home!" 
Wanda hears the apartment door close and the shuffling of you taking off your shoes. She looks at the time and realizes two hours have already passed. Deciding that she's wallowed enough, Wanda decides to get out of bed and leave her room, running her fingers through her hair to tame it.
When she enters the kitchen, Wanda finds you starting the process of making paprikash. It's something you've always done for her when she's sick, feeling down, or homesick. Yet, in this moment, something swells inside Wanda's chest, and she wants to burst out crying again.
"Oh, hey," you turn around and smile as you see her, and Wanda clears her throat and blinks the tears quickly away.
"Hey," Wanda smiles back as she makes her way towards you. "You didn't have to do that, you know. I'm feeling better."
You open your arms for her to dive into a tight hug. You smell like clean laundry and mint, and Wanda wants to bottle your smell. The tension in Wanda lately starts to drain from her body as you rub her back comfortingly. 
"Some paprikash never hurt nobody," you joke. "I'm glad you're feeling better, though, brat. Is it the break-up with Vis?"
"Huh?" Wanda's brows furrow. "No, not really. I haven't really thought about it."
"Homesickness?"
"Er," Wanda fiddles with the back of your shirt. "Kinda, I guess."
"Well, good thing Thanksgiving is in a few months. Your dad and brother are coming here this year, right?"
Wanda nods, brightening at the thought of seeing her family. "Yes, I hope papa and Tony don't get into it again this year."
"I think your dad gets a sick sense of joy of torturing the son of man responsible for all the weapons that destroyed Sokovia," you say dryly. "I think Tony's starting to catch on he's not serious, though."
Wanda chuckles, and you pat her shoulders before you pull away and take out a knife and chopping board. Watch sits on the bar stool, watching you cook, letting things fall into a comfortable silence. 
This was everything, Wanda thought.
Nothing could ruin this moment, and Wanda thought long and hard, building up the courage to say something about her feelings. She wasn't sure what to say, so she might start with something flirtatious, but Wanda would say it more sensually instead of the usual joking tone. 
"Oh!" You say without looking at Wanda, chopping the onion and garlic. "I forgot to tell you. Raye's flying back in a few days before heading out again, and we planned a date this weekend."
Everything is ruined, and Wanda can't tell if the onion or the devastating news is causing her eyes to water.
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 
"Why did you bring me here?" Yelena hisses.
"Because I can't bring Natasha!" Wanda hisses back. "And be quiet or else they're going to hear us!"
"Why not Natasha? She's your other closest friend," Yelena says, quieter as she grumbles. "You're making me miss movie night with Kate. We're supposed to watch Insidious and you're ruining my chances of making fun of her being scared."
"Because," Wanda exasperatedly says. "I've already had a meltdown with Natasha, and she's going to make all sorts of comments if she knows I'm doing this now. I can't be here alone since this is the type of restaurant only couples go to."
"You think I won't make comments?" Yelena raises her brow at Wanda, looking frighteningly similar to Natasha at that moment. "I thought you grew out of stalking Bug's dates in university."
Wanda doesn't reply, too busy staring at your table. Raye is making some kind of flirty comment, reaching across the table and lacing your fingers through hers. You're laughing—Wanda can tell with how your shoulders shake. 
The restaurant you've chosen to take Raye to is a slightly upscale steak restaurant. You've ordered cocktails, a bottle of wine, and two appetizers to start. 
Raye's biting her bottom lip suggestively before she takes a sip of her wine, her index finger is stroking the back of your hand, and Wanda's wondering if she can bribe a waiter to spill a glass of beer on Raye accidentally. 
"Seriously, I know you're best friends, but this is out of hand. Just confess before Raye steals your girl and they get married."
Wanda whips her head back towards Yelena, eyes filled with indignation. 
"THEY WOULD NEVER—"
"SHHH," Yelena hisses, and they both have to hide behind their menus when you turn around and look. "Jesus Christ, Maximoff."
"They would never get married," Wanda huffs before peeking outside her menu to see that you've returned to your conversation with Raye. But then she turns back to Yelena. "You know about my feelings? Did you always know? Did you—"
"Shut up," Yelena groans. "No, I was just fishing, and you're the sucker I caught. I mean, was there a time I thought you guys were too close? Yes, but it eventually became normal."
The two of them put their menu's down when it's safe, and Yelena seems to be carefully planning how to explain her thoughts. 
"We've all accepted that you guys are very close, but you both kept dating different people—you specifically only dating boys and then Vision. It worked out that we were all going to NYU, but did you know that Bug had an offer to study abroad and do an internship that would've accelerated her graduation and then career?" Yelena carefully looks at Wanda's face.
"What?" Wanda frowns. She vaguely remembers you mentioning the program but recalled you dismissing it. You didn't tell her you were offered a spot in the program. "No, but I mean, she was building her online platform, and it was taking off. She didn't need to do an internship."
"No," Yelena agreed with a shrug, "but it wouldn't have hurt. I suspect she couldn't stand the idea of being away from you for a year. Just like how you turned down the job offer in LA at graduation when you knew she would stay in NYC."
"That wasn't—I just—" Wanda huffs. "I like where I am now. My work is flexible." 
"Yeah, but being in public relations, you could've been making twice the amount you are now," Yelena raises her brow again. "Although, at this point, I suspect you both chose adaptable careers in case one of you wanted to move to another city."
"That's not true," Wanda protests.
"Do you even like being a PR?" Yelena asks. "At least Bug loves photography. You, on the other hand, have a talent for PR, but it'd be just as easy for you to do anything else."
"I do like it," Wanda stresses. "It's easy, and the clients I've got keep me busy enough. Just because I don't spend all my time on it or talk about it doesn't mean I don't like it."
"But—"
"Enough talking, our food is coming, and you better be ready to leave at a moment's notice," Wanda cuts Yelena off as the waiter arrives and sets their food down. 
"Worst. Date. Ever," Yelena deadpans.
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 
As it turns out, Raye lives relatively close to the restaurant as you walk hand-in-hand back to her place.
And not too far behind, Wanda and a reluctant Yelena trail from a distance. 
"She's not going to Raye's house, is she?" Wanda whispers with a frown.
"Why not?" Yelena grunts, adjusting her leather jacket. "She has casual flings all the time, and by the looks of their date earlier, it went very well."
"Not. Helping," Wanda glares at Yelena. They enter a street filled with apartments, and Wanda is careful about not following too close and walking under the streetlights.
"This is psychotic," Yelena groans. "Can't we go home? I feel like a literal serial killer out here."
Wanda doesn't respond, just staring ahead as they continue to walk. You're swinging your hand back and forth, interlaced with Raye's. There's giggling, and Raye keeps leaning closer to say something to you. 
There's so much sexual tension that it's palpable from here, and Wanda wishes there was a serial killer out here. 
How was Wanda going to stop this? How was Wanda going to prevent you from going home with someone else?
Wanda picks up a small rock and chucks it hard toward your general direction, hoping to spook the two of you apart. Except, her aim is so terrible that it flies completely left and hits the car beside you instead.
The car alarm goes off, setting off flashing lights and a very, very loud beeping noise.
"Wanda, what the fuck—" Yelena is cut off when Wanda suddenly shoves her down into a bush and dives next to her. "Ow, you fucking—" Wanda slaps her hand over Yelena's mouth.
You and Raye look behind, completely perplexed, when no one is there. You try to check out the vehicle, but other than a small dent, nothing is wrong with the car otherwise. Since neither you nor Raye caused it, you continued walking.
It turns out Raye lived in the building just a few steps ahead. You both stand at the door, holding hands before Raye throws her arms around your neck, smirking. 
Wanda's about to pick up another rock when Raye moves in suddenly for a hot, searing kiss.
And when Wanda watches you kiss back, her hand goes slack. Something awful builds in the pit of her stomach, and there's nothing Wanda can do when she watches you go into the apartment. 
Yelena watches Wanda's crestfallen face and sighs. "Wanda—"
"Let's just get back to the car and go home," Wanda mutters as she stands up, not bothering to brush off the dirt, leaves, or twigs from her hair. 
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 
The car ride home is sickeningly pathetic—a new low for Wanda. 
"PLEASE DON'T BE IN LOVE WITH SOMEONE ELSE. PLEASE DON'T HAVE SOMEBODY WAITING ON YOUUUU—" Wanda hoarsely cries out, tears streaming down her face. She's off-tune, and she's screaming more than she is singing. 
"Oh, god," Yelena sighs, bringing her hand to her face in embarrassment in the passenger seat. They've stopped at a red light, and the car beside them is staring at them strangely. "This is sad for even you, Maximoff."
Wanda doesn't even acknowledge that she heard Yelena, only belting out, "I'LL SPEND FOREVER WONDERING IF YOU KNEW—"
"Just kill me, just kill me, just crash this car and kill us both," Yelena mutters to herself. 
The house is dark when Wanda returns, not that it should be any surprise. Deep down, though, Wanda hoped you'd return home and somehow beat her to it. 
Wanda's eyes feel tired and raw from crying the entire way home. Yelena gave her a reluctant hug, mustering all her kindness into rubbing Wanda's back and kissing the crown of her head when it was buried in her friend's shoulder. 
Pulling out her phone, Wanda looks at her texts. One from work, a couple of Natasha, one from Vis, and one from Pietro. She stares at your name in her messages, but nothing comes even if she wills it. 
Instead, she shoots you a quick "hey :)" and puts her phone away. You'd unlikely answer, but Wanda couldn't help herself. 
Sighing, Wanda gets ready for the night, trying to not let her mind drift on what activities you and Raye could be doing.
Please let it be scrabble, please let it be scrabble, Wanda thinks as she finishes brushing her teeth. 
As she walks towards her room, she pauses. It's unlikely you'd return until tomorrow morning, maybe even noon. Biting her lip, Wanda turns and walks into your room instead, crawling into your bed under the sheets. She pulls the blanket up to her chin, inhaling your scent slowly.
It both comforts her and makes her heart twinge. 
After an hour, sleep falls upon Wanda easily, and she's nearly in a deep sleep when the lights suddenly turn on, and a yelp is heard.
Wanda wakes up suddenly, shooting up with her heart pounding that it's a robber, but it's just you standing at the door with your hand over your heart and chest heaving. 
"Oh my god, you scared the shit out of me!" You scold Wanda. "I totally thought you were my sleep paralysis demon!"
Wanda rolls her eyes at the comment but frowns as you calm yourself and rummage through your closet for sleeping clothes. "What are you doing at home? I thought you were going to sleep over at Raye's."
"She got a call in the middle of everything. It was her sister or something having some kind of meltdown. Raye says her sister can be dramatic, and it happens once a month, but she couldn't really hang up. I got sleepy waiting, but I didn't wanna crash there to just sleep on a first date," you answer. 
"I'm sure you would've gotten some in the morning," Wanda mutters.
"I guess, but feels weird since it'd definitely be rushed," you take off your jacket and socks before heading to the bathroom. "It's fine, we'll probably reschedule for another date." 
"Perfect," Wanda sighs as she starts to get up. 
"Stay there, brat," you tell her as you stand at the door. "If you're gonna sleep in my bed, you better commit to the sleepover."
Wanda sticks her tongue out at you, which you return before you leave.
Tapping her fingers against the sheets, Wanda smiles. Maybe the night wasn't so hopeless after all. 
PART THREE
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amostnobleyandere · 1 year
Text
Yandere! Noble! Scaramouche x GN! Reader (Arranged Marriage)
A/N: hey look first post!!!! this blog is basically just a place to dump my thoughts on yanderes and situations w them// if you’re not comfortable w that, please leave!!! this is not the place for you
GN reader but!!! the word “bride” is used once so do w that what you will .
remember, this is a mature blog !!! don’t like don’t read!!!!!!!!
warning(s): male! yandere, toxic relationships, slightly narcissistic yandere, verbal abuse, child neglect, arranged marriage, toxic behavior, bad parenting skills, loneliness, obsession, yandere scaramouche, scaramouche is his own warningetc. etc.
Synopsis: there’s this specific scenario ive been thinking of lately : an enemies to lovers, but with a yandere that is particularly bitter and hasn’t really experienced an unconditional love before but then his initial hatred of you turns into an obsession. I thought scara was perfect for it :)
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neither of you had wanted to get married; you, the child of the last bloodline of a falling noble family, and scaramouche, heir to one of the wealthiest and most prestigious names in the empire, would have never been pushed to marry under normal circumstances. it could only be assumed that fate had revealed its hand and placed its destiny upon you.
you had never even met the young man that society had branded as ruthlessly curt with a lash-like tongue. you had never expected to, considering how far apart you were, in different circles and in different worlds
he was the duchess’ nephew and only heir, and was untouchable in both stature and power. in contrast, your family name was declining rapidly. you knew why your mother and father had accepted the marriage proposal the day it came, and you knew why they decide not to tell you until the letter in reply had already been sent. you had no say in the matter
how you parents arranged a marriage between the two of you? well, you could certainly guess; noble ladies gossiped and gasped about the young man who was rich with a handsome face, but with an incredibly arrogant personality and a razor tongue that both reflected his wit and endless scorn. you thought that the rumors must have been over exaggerated, as they always were, but for the duchess to have to reach out to your family to find a spouse for her son? had all the other contestants being rejected, and now they were picking through the scraps that were left? or perhaps, had they rejected him?
now, you weren’t so sure
even then, some part of you had never thought they would agree to something like this; they had concluded that this was what was best for you, had even told you that you will live a much happier life if you were in a household that wasn’t always on the edge of crumbling and giving way to time; you could see that they did have the best of intentions. and still, you felt betrayed
unbeknownst to you, at the time, your fiancé had felt the same way toward his mother; the expression of his feelings on the matter, however, included a lot more yelling and rage in his questions as to why he was being dragged into this. he was used to being disappointed, but being so blatantly used?
unfortunately, scaramouche’s defiance was only met with a cold silence and a blank stare, and after he had vehemently denied to go along with the marriage, his mother had only said that nothing could be done. he had no choice in the matter.
and the gentle glint in her eyes, that had still remained their after all these years, that stayed as she firmly reprimanded him, only served to make him more furious.
and so, his resentment for you, the other victim in this situation, came naturally.
when he met you for the first time, his regularly crass and sarcastic attitude only got worse. you could see the embarrassment dawn on both your parents’ and his mother’s faces, cringing every time his voice got a little too loud or when he said something particularly blunt. he made snide comments on your upbringing, your title, even your clothing wasn’t spared the ruthless bite of his words. between his curt and cold attitude and your futile attempts at making conversation, you two didn’t exactly hit it off when you first met
and then, when you finally got sick of it and told him what exactly you thought of his words and his money and where he could shove them, his resentment turned into something much more personal: spite.
he reasoned that he had every right to hate you. to be overly rude and childish whenever you so much as got the idea to be five feet near him. he never asked for the marriage. he doesn’t care about how much it would benefit the two of you, and he’s long past trying to finally please his mother into loving him, so why should he have to act like the perfect husband for someone who is below him?
your parents seemed to love you plenty though. if their guilty eyes and shifty glances were anything to go by. even if they were shamelessly grabbing at the wealth and prestige of another family, he could tell that this marriage was meant for you and your future. even if you didn’t want it. even if you seemed to dread it. every time they brought you over for a scheduled date in the lonely garden at the back of the duchess’s estate, there seemed to be a subtle pain in their eyes.
perhaps, a paternal regret at having to make their child miserable so that they could eventually have the things they weren’t able to give them.
…well, it gave him more reason to torment you.
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there seemed to be no way out of the awkward meetings. your parents were hell bent on having scaramouche as your husband, and his mother was just as determined. so, when you did have to suffer through seeing each other, you kept trading thinly veiled insults, practically sulking every time you heard the others name, and bickering with the each other at every opportunity. it became a familiar routine for the two of you, to not get along and verbalize your frustrations through jabs and taunts
strangely enough, scaramouche grew fond of the bickering. you were practically the only person who would speak to him so casually. with so little respect and without fear of him blowing up. he thought it was refreshing. no one hardly ever talked to him anymore, and even a child that had everything and more could not curb his own loneliness by himself…he would never tell you that, though.
he thought that at least it was entertaining to tease you. actually, if you weren’t so annoying, he might have actually gone as far to say it’s pleasant having you in his company. It certainly beats the large, lonely house he had to wander every day.
plus, when was the last time he had talked this much? when someone had looked at him and acknowledged his existence without him having to work for it?
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as the engagement progressed, you two ended up spending hours together every week, whether you wanted to or not, and while you were mentally and emotionally exhausted from the stress your parents were putting you through, he’s looking forward to your meetings like they’re the highlight of his week…it’s ridiculous, he thinks, and he thinks, and he thinks, and oh god now he can’t get you out of his head.
then suddenly, you’re calling it off. the whole engagement. miraculously, you guilted your parents into going back on what they had agreed to.
his mother is appalled and frustrated, a bit exasperated now that she has to find another suitable bride for her son.
scaramouche is beyond furious.
he goes quiet with rage. he’s more snappish now, towards the maids, towards everyone. his attitude is no longer his usual arrogance and crudeness. his usual bitterness rose into an explosive temper and ruthless training just to keep himself confined to a state of sanity. there is, once again, for the first time in many, many years, an unmistakable fear of abandonment that is raging in his head. he feels so wronged.
and it’s your fault.
and then, he goes silent. if they thought it was bad when he talked, see what they think when he’s quiet.
for his mother, it’s unnerving. to the servants, it’s downright terrifying.
no one realizes that he’s calculating. no one really expects it. everyone assumed this was one big temper tantrum after suffering a huge blow to his pride.
scaramouche was really only clutching his shattered heart after giving it to someone who threw it away.
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what he wants at first is revenge.
that’s what he wants to think he wants. he wants to make things even between the two of you; make you suffer like you made him. force his way into your mind in the worst way possible, and keep himself there to get the message across.
for the first few agonizing days after the annulment, he thinks; maybe that he should tamper with your parents businesses and make you a pauper, someone who is reduced to having to take care of their parents after you fall from the graces of society. and then, after that, he’s hoping you’d come crawling back to him, and ask for his help and his hand. and he’d oh-so graciously accept you back into his life; not before making you beg for it, though.
then again, perhaps toying with whatever lover you have would be a good way to get back at you. he just assumes that you have one, because you must, for you to just abandon him like that.
you should have just stayed.
either way, he’s going to make you regret it.
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it doesn’t take much for scaramouche to convince his mother to have a much needed talk with your parents.
and despite everything she’s done, ei does want to make her son happy. she wasn’t blind after all; he’s always seemed to be on edge, ever since the accident, but he had changed in the short amount of time he had know you. the boy she had failed to raise and care for, someone who was now so far out of her reach, seemed to be more calm and content when you were by his side. it had been a long time since she had seen her nephew look forward to something this much.
whether you want the engagement or not matters less to her.
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and so, your resistance all comes apart so easily. Ei is one of the most powerful people in the empire, so it doesn’t take much effort before she’s luring your parents into throwing you back to them and into scaramouche’s waiting arms. It would be the least she could do as his mother
it’s only a matter of time before you’re resting in the palm of his hand once again; the engagement is back on, running smoothly towards your fast approaching wedding, like your little rebellious mishap never even happened
scaramouche is reveling in it. he feels as though he’s won. and in truth, he has. he imagines the look on your face, how you’ll have to greet him eventually, look him in the eyes after tossing him to the side and then losing, and thinks about how he’s going to make your reunion as painful as possible when you do meet again
his wishes are fulfilled when not even a month later are you pushed into the expansive garden by servants and abandoned by them even quicker, watching them scurry away with pale but oddly relieved faces. once again, you were meant to suffer through another lunch date after you thought you had finally escaped and left the gloomy estate behind forever.
the familiar stone pathway and expansive flora only served to bring back bad memories of your failed attempt to gain your freedom and reminded you of what you would have to look forward to for the rest of your life. it’s only the scuffle of boots against the ground that brought you back to reality.
you knew exactly who was standing behind you.
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when scaramouche saw you standing there, muscles taught and shoulders tensed as you refused to look at him, he took his time observing you, savoring the moment and committing it to memory.
his slow and deliberate footsteps did little to calm your fraying nerves. You were both surrounded by tall hedges and the gentle sound of water coming from nearby fountains. no one else was around. You were completely isolated, with only your fiancé- no, your crazed future husband- keeping you company.
and as always, his presence was suffocating.
“you know, trying to run away from me was cute, but it got annoying after the joke was over. did you really think you could go against a duchy? don’t make me laugh.” his voice had a high and condescending lit to it that seemed to grate against your ears. your stony facade crumbled soon after, instantly revealing the confusion and panic that welled in your chest.
“…why did you do it?” your voice came out hoarse and low. you whirled around, finally looking into those violet eyes. scaramouche felt a shiver of excitement run up his spine as your watery gaze met his.
“you hated this engagement just as much as I did. why did you drag me back here? we both could’ve been free.” a bitter laugh escaped your throat that pathetically choked off into a sob.
he laughed lowly as his head titled down, shielding his eyes from you. the sight made you shudder involuntarily.
“‘drag you back?’ deary, you belong to me. you did the moment I decided I wanted you. what you want doesn’t matter anymore. You don’t know what’s good for yourself, clearly.”
when he lifted his head back up to meet your eyes, he was smiling. the soft turn of his lips wasn’t full of cruelty or malice, scorn or hatred, and somehow that made the uncharacteristically gentle look so, so much worse.
scaramouche picked up your limp hand, gently turning it over, and slipped a ring onto it. it was like putting a heavy shackle on a caged bird; it was needless and unnecessary, you were already trapped. the world did not need anything else but the duchess’s final word to let everyone know who you belonged to.
but, as you stood there staring blankly ahead, you noticed scaramouche seemed genuinely happy to see the band resting on your finger.
the smile he wore turned more playful, more mocking, as those piercing eyes looked at you as if you were pitiful and small, beneath him, something that needed guidance
and his purple eyes locked with yours as he slowly pulled you to him and brought you into a soft kiss.
—————————
“Give me your love. Give me your validation. Hand yourself over to me, body, mind, and soul.”
“And what if I don’t want to?”
“Darling, do you think you have a choice?”
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project-sonadow · 3 months
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hello—i have a question to ask, and i figured it’d be better to do it here than to bother an individual artist about this. (sorry in advance for bringing the mood down w/ a serious question, btw.)
so, i’ve seen posts going around lately where people are like “hey, stop being explicit about sonadow, it’s weird”. and i agree that making explicit comments on sfw work is not cool. forcing the creator to see stuff that might make them uncomfortable is rude. /gen
however, if the characters are explicitly stated to be aged up (like, have lived several years beyond the games) or are in an au where they’re older, is that still bad? /genq because i always thought that the authors/artists were specifically going out of their way to say “we’re actively not wanting to make these pieces about children, we just want to see these two personalities and how they would behave in nsfw situations”.
sorry again. i’m just very confused (and a bit scared by the hostility /nm) and was hoping that i could maybe get some clarification.
(btw, thanks to all the artists on this blog for making such cute art. it’s all really nice stuff.)
Hi there. This isn't the type of thing we would typically address here, but your approach tells me that you're looking to learn and understand, so I'll give you my thoughts.
First of all, to address hostility - it's intimidating and intense, because this is the kind of thing that fires people up. We're not exempt from this, because we do not want to see explicit content about minors, and we will be direct about this fact. And for some reason, some people get very offended when you tell them this.
I'm going to respond to you in good faith, and I don't assume any bad intentions on your part.
On aging characters up. I will be specifically talking about the sonic franchise as my example here, but this applies to any series where the focus characters are children.
Sonic and Shadow are kids. They are teenagers. Age discourse is NOT relevant. They are depicted as teenagers, they act like teenagers, and they are meant to be viewed as teenagers. And so this begs the question: why is there a need to see them in adult situations? Why is there a drive to depict minors in explicit situations?
Even if a creator is theoretically not making a piece about minors, when they choose to age up minor characters, that tells me that they thought about those minors in explicit situations, or that they wanted to see those minors in those situations, but needed a way to justify it.
This is why I fundamentally disagree with aging characters up to put them in adult situations. The core characters are children. Wanting to see a child character in explicit situations so badly that there is a need to justify it by aging them up or making an au or whatever is strange and disturbing, and I personally would not want to associate with someone who does that kind of thing.
Reflect on the issue yourself. All I can do is explain my reasoning, and say that I will choose not to associate with people who make and/or consume content of minor characters in explicit situations.
I appreciate that you want to learn. I am answering this question specifically because of the way you asked it, and that I see this as a way to tell you why we think certain things, and why we vehemently disagree with certain types of content. To others reading this, this post is NOT an invitation to discourse with us. I will not be arguing about ages or logistics or whatever. Do not try to convince me that nsfw of minor characters is okay, you'll get blocked immediately.
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reverieaa · 1 year
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Feel.
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Let me start off by saying this: stop trying to find something that will finally trick your mind into believing it to be real.
I recently got curious as to why we read so much on how to manifest and once we have all the knowledge we need, we seek more and more.
The more we read the more clueless and helpless we feel. These are things I think abt often, in order to make my posts as helpful as possible because I see what a lot of you struggle in.
First you seek your desires, and when you're told you should not seek your desires-you seek to not seek them. You seek the feeling and then you're told it comes from the state- so now you seek to feel the state.
You read this post that tells you you should understand how loa works and now you seek to understand.
This is because you feel yourself to be a certain way, and take it as the truth.
I sat with myself and started thinking about where I went wrong, why I feel so trapped and helpless when I have knowledge on everything I need to know and more I order to manifest?
I came to the conclusion that to me, a lot of loa posts teach manifesting and everything around it like a school book. Like the topic itself is beautiful, but when you try to explain it logically, it becomes boring and forceful.
You seek more information because the way it's given to you.
I came to the conclusion that I never liked the word "belief", it's what always stopped. It traps me into trying hard, repeating info until you get overwhelmed and bullying yourself when you sprial. Creating blockages by feeling like something is wrong with you.
I'm glad Edward art's recent video talks about this, and as he would put it; it creates a hell of your own.
When you think of belief, you think of I think of habit and something that's hardended and complex. When you think of habit you think of repetition, and then you go back to repeating affirmations until you spiral again and fall down.
Only to ignore being honest with yourself because you're afraid and deny yourself that care when you need it to the most
Let me make it clear when I say: your problem is not belief, it is feeling.
If you are looking for a step by step loa manifestation routine that will guarantee you your desires faster than the void, you're in the wrong place, and have the wrong idea.
It is then when you sprial. When you restrict yourself and logically try to make yourself strongly belief in your manifestation.
A lot of you have seen repeating lines from every loa blog, mabye you're tired of us saying that "imagination is the only reality" and " you are God and other than you there is none above " and wished we'd say something different, something that would help you, but what else is there??
What else is there more to say after discovering you are God and that everything is a reflection within you?? Nothing because it covers everything there is to know.
You only "fail to manifest" when you fail to feel yourself be God. Not believe yourself be God, FEEL yourself to be God, feel to be the only reality, when you fail to feel yourself be the only one in power, that is when you state comes forward and you dress yourself in it.
Please meditate on my words, and truly accept yourself to be the only one. I'm talking about feeling it to the bone, not just become aware and then go onto the next post, realize what this means to you. The rest follows you, as everything does.
If it's said that everything is taken care of, thay you need only to go to the end, be aware that as God it is already so, then what else is there to do other than accept and feel how it is?
You only need to give yourself permission to shamelessly feel yourself to be, and all the worries you had before will quiet down. Do not think about checking how much you believe you have your desires and actually enjoy what it's like already having them.
Don't try to believe, but feel.
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miracledarling · 1 year
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if you feel stuck
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intro
at some point, we may sometimes feel stuck when manifesting our desires. it sucks right bae?💔😞maybe we feel like giving up, or it wouldn't work for some reason. even after others succeed. maybe there is loss of hope. but the world is yours, remember? are you going to stay stuck and complain, or do you truly want your desires that you'd finally change yourself?
why we feel stuck
it sucks right? to read all these success stories and only wish to be the one writing them? to have tried all the techniques you seen on youtube, tiktok, tumblr, twitter, you name it. and still, you've been stuck in same place, same circumstances. only dreaming about your dream life. you're still the same, you didn't change yourself. you remained in square one because you didn't move. do you want it or not? do you have it or not? why are you complaining all day? who stopped you from getting what you want? who gives it to you in the first place? yourself.
how to get unstuck
before you continue, i need to remind you that it's no use to read through this post and then keep scrolling on tumblr without applying the law. because you'll just be trapped in the cycle. no matter how many posts you read, you aren't getting anywhere without applying.
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work on self concept
the first thing you can do is to simply work on your self concept. why is self concept important? well self concept is the way you view yourself in the world. changing self concept changes you and everything about you. it changes what's around you. how you look, your abilities in manifesting, the way you're treated, etc. is self concept necessary? well no, you can manifest without doing it but self concept is very helpful to many. i'll make a self concept challenge soon but changing self concept is very easy. just become the desired version of yourself. you also do this by affirming self concept affirmations. you can also use different methods like visualising or sats but methods are optional of course.
take a break
another thing you could do is take short break from manifesting. sometimes we may experience burnout or feel exhausted and it's okay because wer're humans. so taking a break from manifesitng and taking your mind off of these worries can ease stress to help manifesting. but be sure to pick yourself back up afterwards and keep going.
keep persisting
sometimes our manifestation is right in front of us. we're so close and there is no reason to give up. perhaps it could happen if we just persisted for one more minute, so maybe you just need to keep going a little longer because it's working even if you don't quite expect it.
stop overconsuming, apply
seriously, take a moment to reflect on yourself. are you really applying? or are you just scrolling on tumblr again? did you really apply? did you actually even try or do you just affrim 5 times, check 3d, and read another blog post. overthink the law, get discouraged, complain about 3d. like stop right there, that isn't helping you. you should be applying, not reading all this stuff that you already know.
restart
i do not recommend doing this just because usually it would cause you to restart over and over again and repeat the cycle. however, if you've really been "manifesting" something for a long time and seeing nothing, then it may be time to compeltely restart. either revise it, or learn from the past mistake, and from now on apply the law. like actually apply. and do what works for you of course.
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ending notes
remember that you create reality. it's the law of assumption. you're the only one who can change circumstance and you must make that decision. so take accountability, be disciplined, and reflect on yourself. don't look for success story for boost of dopamine. motivation don't help you until you truly apply. you must do before you feel motivated. applying comes before motivation. discipline is more important than motivation. ask yourself if you're applying, remind yourself you are limitless. all you gotta change is you 🤍
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bbyquokka · 10 months
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my soul mate is my cat
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pairing: lee minho x gender-neutral reader
genre: angst with a comfort ending – MDNI
synopsis: you adopt a cat to help ease the pain realising he is similar to someone you once held close to you
warnings: animal adoption, mental health, loneliness, unable to care for oneself, soft ending, soul mates, reincarnation
words: 1.7k ~ (1,704)
♡ m.list — ♡ you can also read it on my ao3
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dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!
“why don't you adopt a cat!” you look up at your best friend and laugh.
“a cat?” you scoff. “seriously?”
your best friend nods and grins before taking a sip of their spirit. you're both out on a best friend date, eating at a local café whilst catching up on life.
“why not? cats are easy to take care off!” 
“i can hardly look after myself let alone an animal.” you chuckle softly.
“oh c'mon yn! are you not lonely since.. well, y'know..” you swallow as your best friend trails off. you let out a sad sigh as you look down at your pastry, suddenly feeling nauseous and the pastry looking unappetizing.
you have noticed that the days are long but the nights are even longer. since being alone, your apartment has felt twice the size of what it usually is. you haven't become lazy per say but the appeal of washing dishes and doing laundry just drains you the more you think about it, causing a pile to build and build until it becomes unmanageable. everything just reminded you of him, of minho. you hated being in the same four walls for that exact reason but you feared that if you left, you’d forget so you willingly trapped yourself.
you'd worry you'd forget about his smell. how he sounded. how he dressed. you still have all his belongings, scared and refusing to throw them out or give them away. every item of clothing still holds his scent, that scent that brings you so much comfort yet such sadness. everything of his still sits on your dressing table. photos, trinkets, dried up flowers, expired amusement park tickets–they're all memories.
nothing has quite been or felt the same. you went from being incredibly loved and being in love by an amazing and wonderful human to feeling nothing. just an empty shell walking and breathing. the only reason you are out right now is because your friend practically barged into your home unwelcomed, forced you to get dressed and dragged you out.
you can't deny that it feels nice to be outside again. the wind on your skin, the chirps of the birds and the buzz of pedestrians however, that part of you just wants to go home and bury yourself under heaps of blankets.
“c'mon yn. i think it'd be good for you. if not, at least think about it.” 
and think about it you do. as you wander around your apartment, all you can think about is a cat wandering around your home. maybe having a fluffy companion would do you some good. maybe it would bring you back and light that spark that's been extinguished.
the more the think about it, the more you want it. a sudden burst of energy rips through your body as you clean up your home. putting laundry in the machine, cleaning up dishes and throwing away trash. you bleach and disinfect every surface in your home, scrubbing until you can see your reflection in the counter tops. 
once that was done, you venture off to the pet store to grab the necessities. cat tree, scratching post, food and water bowls, litter box and litter alongside some food, treats and toys. maybe you overspent and the cat wouldn't use half of what you bought but it's better to be safe than sorry.
you made sure you home is cat friendly, feeling like you're baby proofing the apartment. you tuck away any loose cables, hide anything that could be potentially swallowed and cause harm. you haven't even decided if you want a cat or a kitten but either way, you will know once you come face to face with the animals.
“hi. i'm looking to adopt a cat.” you say to the shelter worker. you walked to your local shelter knowing it's better to adopt than to shop. they smile at you before asking you some questions and filling out some paperwork before leading you to the kennels.
there, you see a whole array of animals. puppies, kittens, dogs, cats. some old, some new. some frightened and some jumping all over the place with excitement. your heart melts but at the same time drops. seeing all these animals in kennels that have been abandoned and are waiting for their forever home, makes you wish you could just scoop them all up and take them home.
but for now, you can only pick one.
as you walk along the kennels, cooing and sighing at the adorable faces of the many breeds of dogs and cats, do you stop at one in particular.
you squat down as the cat stands from its resting place, uncurling itself and stretching out its stale limbs. it's a black, long coat cat with white around it's paws making it look like it's wearing socks. a little white moustache and white chest with long whiskers and pointy ears with tuffs of fur at the tips.
“hi.” you whisper as you put your hand up close to the metal. the cat sniffs your fingers, its pink nose twitching with each sniff before headbutting and rubbing its head on the bars. you stroke the back of its neck gently, heart melting as it starts to purr loudly.
“i want this one.” 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
it's been a few weeks since you adopted the cat, who's name is lee. lee was wary at first, hiding in the bathroom and nervous of its new surroundings and new noises. you spent time sitting outside the bathroom door trying to gently coax him out of the bathroom and let him know that he is safe.
soon enough, he gingerly stepped out off the bathroom, rubbing his head and body on your legs and hands as he would beg for attention. once lee knew he was safe did he show you his true side.
you learnt that he is a very playful yet stubborn cat. you'd catch him on the counter top (or even on top of the fridge) every time you tell him down, he would look at you and groom himself. you can't do anything about it though; he's a cute cat!
as you both slowly get accustomed to one another do you start to notice traits; traits that are all to familiar to you.
the slow blinks, the stubbornness, the playfulness. how he would meow at you when asking specific questions. the head tilts and the sudden swat of his paw on your hand; it's hard to explain to others but to you, you just know
it's a feeling you're all too familiar with. it's habits and traits you know far too well. you didn't want to believe it at first but now you're forced to. you even went as far as showing him a picture to which he nudged at and purred–like he is trying to tell you something.
you watch as he slowly sits up and stretches from your lap. your eyes widen at a distance mark on his fur in the same place as someone who was once close to you. lee looks at you and gives you slow blinks and purrs loudly as your eyes slowly full with tears.
“you're just like him, yknow.” you whisper. lee continues to give you soft blinks before gently placing his white paw on your cheek, his toes beans feeling soft yet firm against your skin. his fur soaking up your tears before he leans in and gently licks your cheek. his scratchy tongue swiping along your cheek as he gives you kisses to which you giggle at and hold him close to your chest.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“i'm not crazy.” you protest to your friend over the phone. “i swear, they're just like him!” 
“yn.. i know you miss him but that's impossible.”
“is it? i mean, don't you believe in the whole afterlife thing? y'know, being reborn and whatnot.”
“not particularly, no. it's just bizarre how you think that. are you ok, yn? like, really really ok?” you sigh deeply, rubbing your face with your hand.
“peachy. look, i know i sound crazy but it's true. it's just everything lee does is so alike to him. since adopting him, i feel more alive! like i have a purpose.”
“and that's great yn! but to say he is exactly like him is a little bizarre don't you think?” 
“well, yeah but– ah, never mind. look, i have to go. talk to you soon.” you hang up with a defeated sigh. of course they wouldn't believe you. you wouldn't if someone told you what you told your friend. they would have to see it to believe it; but even then, would they?
you drag your feet to your bedroom, smiling as you see lee curled up on his side of the bed. you flop down on your stomach, disturbing lee from his nap. his head shoots up, a tired and disapproved meow causing you to laugh softly.
“sorry darling. i didn't mean to wake you.” lee puts his head back down before letting out a big yawn. his ears twitching and soft purrs emitting as you gently pat his soft and silky fur.
“maybe i am a little crazy.” you say with a soft chuckle. “could you not give me a sign or something? i'll take anything at this point.” 
lee looks at you before getting up off the bed and walking out. you watch with a sad smile feeling defeated and your heart weighing you down.
moments later, lee walks back into the bedroom. he jumps up on the bed and drops a piece of clothing by your face. it's a sock but not just any sock–it's his favourite sock.
you sit up, holding the sock close to your chest as tears stream down your cheeks. you let out broken sobs as lee stands on his hind legs, front paws on your arms as he reaches up. you laugh softly, leaning down to allow him to lick your cheek slowly and gently to soothe you.
you scoop him up and nuzzle into his soft furr, getting it wet with your tears. lee endures it, purring softly and rubbing his face against your cheek.
“it's really you.” you whisper. “welcome back, my love.” 
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note: idek. i saw a tiktok ok and it prompted me to do this. i have no words, sdjn;aslfb! don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. curious as to what is next? here is my wips list! i hope you all enjoy! ‹3
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tags (open): @sstarryoong ; @fairylouist ; @septicrebel ; @alyszaen ; @writerracha ; @hyunluvxo ; @aestheticsluut ; @xcookiemonsteer ; @telesvng
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ooctlt · 1 month
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I really like this blog most of the time, but sometimes you take reasonable earnest asks that are trying to be thoughtful, and are such a dick about it.
Like if it's the characters being dicks, fine. But you could say something in the tags or post to indicate you're not just viciously mocking someone for trying to engage.
I still haven't submitted an ask since seeing your response that led to comments along the lines of "anon should go die in a hole" for asking, pretty reasonably, why harrow would want to stay with people she didn't seem to like or want to be around or interact with.
(i know, because she does like them and does want them around but doesn't know how to show it) but it's an ASK blog. How do we hear that from her unless someone ASKS
i understand it might be surprising and a bit hurtful to see an ask answered with the characters being mean/flippant, and for that i do apologize that it wasnt made clear that it would be a common thing in this blog. id like to issue the disclaimer: there is always the possibility that the characters here will not take your question well. they might answer rudely, and instigating behavior is not only encouraged but expected on both ends. this does not reflect my personal opinions as the artist; there are over 250 asks even after i constantly compile duplicates, and i will answer the asks that i personally like.
i will assume you are referencing the two most recent posts where gideon acts rudely and i repost an old panel: for the former i thought anon was really sweet for being so heartfelt and encouraging, but gideon isnt the kind of person who needs to be told shes brave for doing that by a stranger. it was a simple act of survival. and harrow is still very much in the passive deprogramming phase. the latter response was meant to kickstart (spoilers) what i will call the "dicks last resort" arc, where i clean out the inbox and share more simple, low effort, but potentially rude responses*. this is because i have roughly drawn almost daily for 87 days straight, and would like to recuperate without being burnt out because i love this blog and i love art.
this leads me to my next point: some of these answers will be curt and short and rude, because they are easy to draw. if i only prioritized the "good" asks or to make certain ask responses kinder, or longer, it wouldnt be a daily blog. it would be a monthly blog where 5 asks get answered among 100s. i didnt anticipate people asking about harrows piercings, and i considered shutting it down by just having harrow say she likes them etc. but i did want to give more insight into harrows character even if she wouldnt say so herself, and that took roughly 3 full unemployed nights. if i treated every ask in good faith the same way i wouldnt have time for anything else, because they take more effort and have to be seriously considered for the future. i can retcon their favorite ice cream or play off griddlehark fighting - it takes more to keep track of a narrative about people talking Around their issues
* by rude responses i mean "this will affect the 679ers negatively, much like making your sim 🧑‍🤝‍🧑➖➖ someone" there are a few asks planned to hurt in the same way one drafts a bad end in a visual novel, and this type of interaction is encouraged. of course if you dont want them to get worse dont send asks telling gideon she should flirt with MILFs (you cant send this ask now i already said it), but i encourage the banter.
TL;DR this is the "characters think you are weird for personal questions" blog. i am sorry i didnt warn of the ask-response banter, because i also enjoy drawing these characters being dicks. i do like when aggravation and conflict leads to character development. "how do we get earnest answers unless someone asks" sometimes you will never explicitly get that from them, and thats what the dead ends are for: to let you know to try something else and read between the lines
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sygol · 4 days
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with your online presence so strong + how often you post i KNOW u got no IRL shit going on. prev anon was right youre insufferable irl and thats why ur here so often. like most popular bloggers u dont fit in irl so u make it seems like you dont wanna fit in
i dont have to flex how many partners + friends i have in my life or tell you that i regularly go to the club, because i dont really care what you think about me, tuck yourself into bed with whatever thoughts youd like. but i will use this interaction to correct some of the common misunderstandings about the world you posit because i see a bunch of idiots just like you on here all the time:
A. internet posts are not a cohesive reflection of who someone is as a person, my engagement with social media gives a limited context to who i am. of course im obnoxious here, this is my blog which is specifically about me and my interests
B. youre projecting your own fears of inadequacy, people who have friends are not concerned with "fitting in", my friends love me for exactly who i am.. and maybe this is my bias as a "psychopath" but "fitting in" is not something that is at all difficult or meaningful to achieve
C. someone you think is an asshole can have friends that are totally unlike yourself, you might even think those friends are also "insufferable", however none of us care what you think, youre basically just getting mad at someone you dont like doing their own thang
D. i have a strong online presence because i enjoy using the internet and i love attention. im full of myself because i like myself, its that simple.
homework:
try engaging with things you like instead of things you dont like
try making peace with your fears and be more loving to yourself, you deserve that
your words dont mean anything to me, youre just reflecting your own maladjusted world view
stop being a conformist bitch
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saintmeghanmarkle · 1 month
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Why is Harry holding up the jam in Delfina's jam post? Why do Delfina's Tracy's use the same font? Why are Tracy's hands so old like someone Doria's age. Theory: No one was sent jam they were just sent insta-ready pictures of invisijam. by u/snappopcrackle
Why is Harry holding up the jam in Delfina's jam post? Why do Delfina's + Tracy's use the same font? Why are Tracy's hands so old, like someone Doria's age. Theory: No one was sent jam, they were just sent insta-ready pictures of invisijam. One of the things that struck me was how old the hands were in Tracy's Insta post. And even though it's not a huge investment of time, it does take time to layout an Insta photo with writing, staged background, good lighting, text, hashtags, etc .. and I couldn't believe a CEO wife would do all that for a "friend".Then, I noticed how both her and Delfina used the exact same font, what a coincidence! And the writing sounded like it was the same person. And the lemons are so Meghan.But then I noticed in Delfina's post saying "I love your jam", it is a very pasty white man's hand holding the jam jar. A ginger's hand, not Nacho, with a male wedding band that looks exactly like Harry's. Then I thought, the hands on Tracy's photo look more like the hands of someone Doria's age. And the label was probably coming off because it wasn't glued on, it was double-sided tape so she could put two different labels on one jar of jam. Call me crazy, but I think these photos were taken by, styled by and written by Meghan using Harry+Doria as hand models, and then she just sent Delfina + Tracy the pics ready to post. That is why no other celeb is posting their gift. There is no jam. There are no 50 bottles or 50 friends. Not even two. There was one bottle with two labels. Invisijam. Invisikids, lol. The pics are all in this daily mail post. https://ift.tt/9CALPkw do you all think? Am I seeing things? post link: https://ift.tt/dK3cOnH author: snappopcrackle submitted: April 16, 2024 at 11:40PM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.
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luckykiwiii101 · 5 months
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I’m turning off anons! Lmfao the audacity y’all have to bully me. Post it with ur actual account then. I’m literally just 15. I’m just trying to help people manifest their dream lives and you are just bullying me. Now how is that what i get in return for wanting to see people succeed?! Wow. I’m also still on my own journey to manifesting my dream life. I created my blog to spread what i’ve learnt. And i’ve learnt so much since i came to tumblr. I’ve entered the void state a few times but struggled to be aware. The times where i’ve entered and woken up in the void state aware is when i had no clue what it was! I made that clear ages ago!! Stop trying to accuse me of lying! Tf?! Why on earth would i lie? What would i gain from lying?! Tell me?! Just because of your disbelief in your ability does NOT give you the right to come on my blog and accuse me of lying! PATHETIC! Also if you’ve manifested your dream life i doubt that you would still be roaming tumblr reading posts about how to manifest your dream life. The idiocy. And to say that “It’s not bullying”. Bro yes it is. Tf. How about YOU go learn what bullying is. It wasn’t a one time thing, multiple people are ganging up on me now. But carry on. Low lives.
+ Calling me rude? Okay! Of course i’m not going to respect people who disrespect me. Tf? Want me to sugarcoat it and act like a princess? Want me to just let them disrespect me. “Oh sorry, i’ll do whatever you want. You’re right. I am a low life and an embarrassment and a liar”. AS IF! I’m none of those things and you know it. You’re just reflecting your assumptions about yourself onto me! LMFAO the irony. If you really hate me then go block me and stop reading my posts? It’s that simple? I’m not here to convince you that i’m telling the truth. You can choose to believe in me or not. It doesn’t change the fact that i have entered the void state. Want me to take a picture of my void state and send it to you? Tf? Loa is based on faith and you want proof? You don’t even have faith in yourselves. You need picture proof for everything don’t you?
+ I’m going to stop posting. Unless they are success stories. I’m not giving you guys any more advice. I’m sick and tired of the people on this app. I honestly never thought i would be one of those bloggers that would be bullied on this app. I’m turning off anons so i know that half of you won’t want to send your success stories and i’m fine with that. You can priv message me and if you want to be anonymous i’ll crop out your username and pfp.
Edit: NO WAY!!! I was just abt to turn off anons and decided to look at my inbox and someone accused me of faking the success stories?! WHAT?! I’m sorry what?! They said “it’s you down to the way you type”. WHAT?! That is the most ridiculous thing i’ve ever heard. It’s disheartening. I actually felt the pit in my stomach when i read that. People just assuming the worst about you feels horrible. But it just shows their lack of disbelief in themselves. I did not crate my blog to chase clout wtf?! Why would i spend 2+ hours perfecting my posts so you guys can read them. All that for clout?! I think NOT.
Look at these:
(The way they’re all anonymous says a lot).
+ The amount of bloggers you guys have done this to is CRAZY. Smh 🤦‍♀️
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weirdstrangeandawful · 2 months
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What is whump?
I get asked this question a lot so I figured I'd just make a post about it! I doubt a lot of people will see this since I'm a small whump blog but at least a few people will have a quick reference.
The short answer is that whump is a fictional genre of media. Like any genre, it's difficult for one person to entirely characterise but I'll do my best.
Whump is a fictional genre focused on the experience of pain. This can be physical pain or emotional pain. The pain could be acute or chronic. The focus could be on the recovery from the pain or on the pain itself. It's a super versatile genre!
Some frequently asked questions:
Okay, but how is this different from hurt/comfort?
This is a complicated question (hard to entirely characterise an entire genre, eh?) and it really depends on the writer. For me, hurt/comfort is a subset of whump where the comfort is required whilst whump is the larger, overarching genre where comfort is not an absolute necessity, but many others have different opinions!
What is a whumpee?
You'll often hear writers (especially prompt writers) in the whump community refer to characters as 'whumpee', 'whumper', and 'caretaker'. These are placeholder names like your good old A, B, and C. 'Whumpee' refers to the character experiencing the pain (literally 'the one being whumped'); 'whumper' is the (optional) character causing or contributing to the pain; and 'caretaker' is the (also optional) character helping care for the whumpee and alleviating the pain.
Why would I support someone who thinks people should experience pain?
Pain and adversity are facts of life. In fact, many of us as whump writers and readers engage with the genre to cope with pain and adversity in our real lives. It's important to remember that whump is a fictional genre and someone's interest in the fictional themes portrayed really aren't a reflection of what goes on in their real life. The name 'whump' may be contemporary but this is definitely not a contemporary genre (Shakespearean tragedies anyone?) so there is no use criticising its existence. If you don't like it, that's okay! Scroll on by and block the #whump tag if you need to. Like many artists, we're an accepting community and won't judge. In fact, we probably understand better than most that there is too much pain in the world and not everyone wants to read about more of it.
What's the difference between whump and BSDM/kink?
This is a complicated and very individualised answer. The oversimplified answer is that BDSM and kink are explicitly sexual/sensual whilst whump is not necessarily related to sex. But that is extremely oversimplified and doesn't cover all or even most people's experiences with either whump or BDSM/kink. The most generalised answer I can give is that whump is an overarching genre whilst BDSM and kink are individualised cultural practices and activites. But even that needs nuance and context to understand and apply. For me personally, I don't like combining the two because I experience them in very different ways, but that's just my experience!
Edit: I realise that I was not clear in the above answer. BDSM and kink are absolutely not inherently sexual at all. In my personal experience, I've found there to be a lot more overlap between BDSM/kink and sexual experiences than with whump but this is not true for many and maybe most people. No one person is qualified to answer this question.
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Mirror, Mirror, On the Wall - Who's the Most Alien of Them All?
Pairing: Loki x Reader Characters: Loki, Thor, Brock Rumlow, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Frigga, Heimdall Rating: T Words: 3229 Content: 2nd person, kidnapping, chloroform, manipulation, soulmate AU, Hydra!SHIELD at work, set during/post Avengers 1 Summary: You'd never thought there was anything strange about your soulmate in the mirror, apart from how handsome he was, but as fate would have it - he's trying to invade New York. Ao3: HERE Notes: I am an absolute sucker for Soulmate AUs so here we are! I'm thinking of using this same AU for some others (Bucky and Steve) but I'm not sure if it'll be in same universe
In this AU, you see your soulmates face as your own reflection~ THIS IS A REPOST OF MY OWN WORK I accidentally deleted the original post so the read more doesn't work on my own blog 😭
Banners by cafekitsune
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Something considered normal would rarely be considered wrong. 
So, registering your soulmate’s image via looking in a mirror at 18 and having a photo snapped had never worried you.
Everyone did it.
It was normal.
It was safe. 
It was how most people found their soulmates, and even then some just didn’t.
This early spring day started as every day usually did. You got up and ready for work, took public transport to the office, and logged in at 9 a.m. 
Lunch came and went, spent with the coworkers you got along with best, all venting about the small annoyances of the morning. You all returned to the office and the afternoon crawled by.
Last minute, your boss asked you to finish a report now rather than tomorrow morning and you waved goodbye to your co-workers with a shrug and a put-upon smile. They’d all been in your position at one time or another. No-one found it strange.
The report dragged on for a few hours and you had no idea why it couldn’t wait until tomorrow, but your boss was hardly known for his patience. He at least had the decency to stay behind too. 
You sighed and printed a quick copy before knocking on the door to your boss’s office. 
He called out and told you to come in, taking the report when you handed it over. His eyes barely scanned it before he spoke again; “Hey, I know it’s late, but we have a visitor in the conference room. Go keep them company, will you? It will just take a couple of minutes.” 
You bit back the sigh and the roll of your eyes, knowing both could lose you your job. Stupid, tight ass boss. “No problem, boss,” were the words that came out of your mouth, a false smile before you turned and left - heading to the conference room.
You took the liberty of rolling your eyes hard before you plastered the smile back on and pushed the door open. “Hello.” You stepped into the room and held out your hand as you gave your name. “Mr. Dickson is sorry to keep you waiting, but how can I help you?” 
Not the normal sort of client, if a client he was. Most clients showed up in suits or some sort of business attire, but this man wore a black T-shirt, combats, and a jacket certainly not of the suit kind. 
“Brock Rumlow.” He smirked over at you and you saw the way his eyes gave you a once over. Slowly. Urgh. Double ugh when he continued with; “No problem at all, sweetheart. Don’t suppose you could get me a coffee?”  He nodded over to the machine as he eased back into his seat. 
“Of course, sir,” you answered with a smile.
“Feel free to grab yourself one, too. Your boss sent you in here to keep me company, huh?” 
“Something like that, Mr. Rumlow.” The pot only needed warming before you poured two cups and offered him one, taking a seat opposite the man.
“I hope he doesn’t make you stay this late all the time, I hate it when my boss makes me work overtime.” He snorted and rolled his eyes as he took a sip of his coffee. “Do this, do that, clean up some mess, collect an alien’s soulmate, kill that politician, clean up more mess. Not a day’s rest I tell ya.” 
You nodded politely, staring down at your cup as you fully processed his words. Aliens, soulmates… killing politicians? You didn’t know which was the most out there. “I-’m sorry I’m not sure I follow…” 
He only looked more delighted at your confusion and the way your body had stiffened. “Well, you see, sweetheart, there’s this guy, Loki, who showed up outta nowhere and, see, he talks a big game about taking over the Earth and we figured, seeing as you’re his soulmate, that he might rethink those big ideas if we offer you up instead.” Brock shrugged as if this was just casual conversation and didn’t have you frozen in your seat. “’Course, if that doesn’t work, maybe threatening to harm ya will change his tune. But what do I know about aliens? I’m just part of the STRIKE team.” 
Brock smiled, as though he hadn’t just threatened you or spouted what sounded like absolute bullshit. A beat passed as you stared into the cup in your hands, eyes unseeing. “So why don’t we-” 
He growled angrily as you threw the coffee and the cup containing it at him and jolted to your feet, running for the door, pulling it open-
Your short-lived escape attempt ended when another similarly dressed and built man stepped into view. His hands clamped down on your arms and the panic really set in as you protested and tried to escape. “Let me go!” You kicked and thrashed, hoping the noise might cause your boss to call the cops, but that small slice of hope was soon ripped from you. He appeared from his office, face like thunder. 
“You said this would be quick, hurry up before someone hears this racket.” 
Brock huffed from behind you, fingers sliding into your hair and tugging hard to drag your head back. “We coulda done this the nice way, bitch, but that’s off the table.” He pressed a cloth to your mouth, harder than necessary.
The thought of not breathing hadn’t even crossed your mind before the fumes entered your body and you soon slumped into unconsciousness.
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You woke already knowing you weren’t at home. Everything felt off and you hadn’t even opened your eyes yet as you laid on what felt like a bed. You took a shallow breath, trying to remember, but everything before falling asleep stayed fuzzy at the edges. 
You had been to work and… right, your boss had made you stay late and there had been coffee and…
Your eyes snapped open but so far it seemed like you were alone. The edge of the bed wasn’t far from the wall and you hesitated before rolling over. Good. No-one there either and this side of the wall had windows.
You shuffled over to them, eyebrows furrowing at their size. Small and curved at the edges. you slid the blind up to be met with the sight of clouds and uninterrupted sky. 
You scrambled to the edge of the bed and the one door that led in and out of the room. “Hey! Hey!” you yelled, banging on the door, fear skittering through you. How long ago had last night been? What time was it now? Where were you now?
“Quit ya banging!” A stern thump that made the door rattle had you stumbling back and falling down to sit on the edge of the bed. “We’re nearly there, no need to get your panties in a twist, bitch.” It sounded like the man you’d met in the office… Brock if you remembered correctly.
He’d certainly changed his tune, but you had thrown coffee at him. Bastard deserved it. 
“Where are we going?!” You had no idea if he would answer, if anyone would. Did it even really matter?
You were to be offered up as some consolation prize to an alien invader in the hopes he might go away. 
You weren’t convinced of the plan; who would change their plans for the mere idea and appearance of their soulmate. You probably wouldn’t if you were in Loki’s position. 
“New York,” came the answer before you heard footsteps leave the door. 
You sank to the bed and flopped back on it, unsure what to do with yourself or for the rest of the flight.
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You sat in what had to be some kind of interrogation room, a bit rich considering these guys had kidnapped you. A window made up much of the wall in front of you; the blank expanse of glass left you with nothing to look at but the reflection of your soulmate. It hadn’t changed for several years, but you’d noticed recently his hair had grown longer and it didn’t seem as well kept as before.
The sharp lines of his face had always left you flustered, but now they left you worried at the gaunt paleness that clung to him. What had happened? You couldn’t possibly know, you didn’t even know his name. Well, you hadn’t.
Loki. An alien. An invader. 
You continued to sit silently in the chair, not knowing that an agent and your soulmate’s brother were busy deciding your fate.
“Father will not be pleased. Midgardians are not welcome to our realm and Loki is likely to remain in prison the remainder of her short life.” Thor spoke calmly but firmly. “Besides which, you tell me she is dangerous? A criminal? Why should Asgard take a criminal of Midgard to the golden realm? I do not think our prison is the best place to introduce them.” Thor couldn’t be certain, but he doubted the two would get along from what SHIELD had told him. 
His brother would likely perceive another criminal as a threat or he would keep his guard up. Loki was not one for letting people in so easily. Especially not now. Whether she deserved kindness or not, he doubted Loki would afford her any.
“What if your brother wants to bring her?” 
Thor’s eyes narrowed, giving the agent a sidelong glance. Hardly normal to accept a prisoner’s request… but he did love his brother fiercely - despite his recent tricks. “If,” Thor stressed, “Loki wants to bring her… I may agree,” Thor conceded. But he doubted such a thing would happen. “I will speak with him.” 
Neither you or Thor knew the thin thread by which your fate hung.
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The car rumbled through central park, you seated in the back wearing handcuffs and some gag like thing over your mouth that stopped you speaking. You still wore the bright orange scrubs and white shirt as though they’d plucked you from a prison somewhere.
You were free of Rumlow at least, you didn’t even know if the agent driving knew that you hadn’t been picked up from a penitentiary. This new one aligned more with what you imagined an ‘agent’ to be. Black suit, white shirt, sunglasses. Very Men In Black, which, ironic, since you were about to meet two aliens. 
The car came to a stop and you looked out at the people milling around. You only recognised two for sure - one of them being your soulmate. Tony Stark confused you, for a moment, before you recalled his shift into heroism the last few years. 
An equally tall, blond man held your soulmate's arm just above his elbow, so you had to assume this was the brother you’d heard murmurs about. 
Your car door opened and a hand grabbed similarly below your elbow to help you out. Curious eyes turned on you and all you could do was silently, desperately, plead for someone to step in. Someone to take the gag off. You just needed one of them to be curious. 
“Er… I don’t remember any plus ones going out to this little party.” Tony Stark gave the agent at your side a look over the top of his sunglasses, his gaze briefly sliding to you. 
“She’s Loki’s soulmate,” the agent replied, no judgement but not much other emotion in his voice. He turned and marched you towards the pair of aliens. 
“Now, hang on a minute.” A different voice objecting this time and you craned your head behind you to see a blond dressed in a check shirt and a brown jacket. You thought you might have seen his face somewhere before, but you weren’t exactly firing on all cylinders and you couldn’t place him. “She might be a criminal of some kind, but you’re going to send her to another planet?” 
“I’m sorry, Captain, but it seems she may be more dangerous than a Midgardian prison could handle,” Thor answered. “My brother told me he has made many a visit to her on Earth.” Fucking news to you! Your eyes flicked to Loki, brows furrowed, but he didn’t meet your gaze. “I do not think he could have taught her many of the tricks he uses, but SHIELD assures me that they have indeed met before.” 
Now you understood the reason for the gag. Can’t contradict made up bullshit if you can’t speak. You were about to turn a furious gaze on the agent that brought you out of the car when the soft clinking of a chain drew your attention.
Loki curled a chained arm around your waist, grip firm, and tugged your back flush against him. The action forestalled anything you had been about to do or say and you attempted to catch his eye. He ducked his head and you felt the cool press of his own gag to the top of your head. 
The gesture had you stilling in surprise and seemed to only cement the story that Thor had been spun.
You felt eyes on the two of you, studying intently, before Loki’s little stunt seemed to be accepted as proof and preparations began again. You assumed for travel to this Asgard, but how exactly? There weren’t any space ships nearby and you were fairly certain the car you’d arrived in wasn’t about to escape Earth’s atmosphere.
Something with Loki here?
Thor reappeared in your line of sight holding one of two handles of some canister. A blue cube glowed inside, but it didn’t make any more sense than it had a few minutes ago. He caught your eye, his look intense and serious. “Make sure you do not let go or you will be lost to space as Loki was before he came here.” 
You felt like meaning lay beneath the words, something you were supposed to glean from them, but still struggling to process what had happened the last few days you simply nodded and took hold of the other handle. Loki’s hand settled beside yours, overlapping slightly. Unsure if this stemmed from kindness, or an attempt to be sure you didn’t let go. or something else to drag you further into the fiction and lies that had been created around you... Well, you had no way to protest, anyway.
You hoped nobody would spend too long looking for you. Maybe the local police had already told everyone you were dead, covering up the act that you still couldn’t quite understand. 
You wondered if you would ever see Earth again after this.
Your hand unknowingly reached for Loki’s at your waist, gripping tightly in fear of what was to come and in sorrow that you didn’t know what mess you were leaving behind. 
Silence as Thor turned the handle, anticlimactic, but you felt it as your stomach dropped similarly to when an elevator descends too quickly and you were pulled upwards. The blur of colours was almost too much for your eyes to bear as your vision blurred, but soon enough your feet settled on solid ground once more. 
You desperately blinked back the blurring at the edges of your vision to take in the bright gold that lined the room you had landed in. Or maybe an observatory of some kind.
“Welcome home,” a deep but firm voice greeted, your eyes drawn to a man in gold armour whose eyes glowed just as brightly as the metal. He sheathed the sword into the metal stand in front of him and approached the three of you.
You thought you could see something sad in his gaze as he touched the metal on your face, drawing it easily away from you and returning your ability to speak. “I am sorry you were dragged into this mess, miss.” 
“How did you…?” 
“My name is Heimdall and my duty is to watch over the Nine Realms. While I cannot see all at once, and some have managed to evade my sight in the past,” At this he gave Loki a look before returning his gaze to you - eyes softening once more, “I have kept an eye on your journey these past few days.” 
“Heimdall, of what do you speak?” Thor asked in utter confusion. 
But you found the words and breath to speak first. “They lied to you, I’m not an inmate! I’ve never even gotten a parking ticket!” you protested, courage mounting with every word you got out. “I was just doing my job like always and a couple of thugs came to the office and kidnapped me.” A squeeze at your waist reminded you of Loki’s presence and you pulled out of his grip, turning your annoyance on him. “And we have never met! I’ve only ever seen his reflection.” 
“Loki-” Thor growled at his brother, but received only a simple shrug and a look that lacked all remorse in reply. “Why did you-?”
Warm hands took your wrists and distracted you, your gaze drawn by watching Heimdall break the cuffs on your wrists as easily as if they were made of paper. “My apologies, miss. I had no way of letting anyone on Earth know of the misconception.” He didn’t smile, per se, but he seemed genuine and his greeting kind. 
He took a step back and you breathed with relief to finally be free of all your chains. “At least someone knows what’s going on.” Though Loki had to have known too, so why had he lied to Thor and SHIELD? “How exactly am I supposed to get home?” you asked, looking between the two brothers as if scolding children. 
“Heimdall is to use the Tesseract to restore the Bifrost and once it’s fixed, he will be able to send you home. If I can, I will return with you and explain the situation to the Avengers - they’ll be sure to help,” Thor rushed to assure you.
To be fair, they had tried, but Thor had been so convinced by SHIELD… Well, he just seemed to have gotten all mixed up in all of this so you nodded. “So, I’ll just have to wait until the bridge is fixed?” 
Thor smiled brightly this time, like the sun bursting through on a cloudy day. “Yes, just until it is fixed. I’m sure Mother will be happy to provide hospitality.” 
“I see my son is already volunteering me.” Her voice sounded light and happy despite the situation, drifting over from some as yet unseen doorway off to the side. 
“Your Majesty.” Heimdall bowed to her and you quickly followed suit - you didn’t want to end up in the dungeons for however long it would take to fix the Bifrost. 
You straightened up to find her gentle smile turned your way, her beauty and motherly face stealing your breath. “I’m glad to finally meet you, though you are such a familiar sight that I feel as though I know you already.” Her arm settled softly around your shoulders and she started to steer you along the beautiful bridge you stood on. 
Loki huffed behind you and you wondered if he might be embarrassed? No, probably not.
“I’m sorry you were brought here under such circumstances, but welcome to Asgard.” Weird space travel and spy stories coming to life aside, maybe spending some time in the golden city laid out before you wouldn’t be so bad. 
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lol-jackles · 21 days
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Hi, how are you?
This post is more of a vent and some comparison between supernatural and Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
I was just listening to the "sacrifice" melody from the episode "The Gift" and I started to ramble a little.
If we put both series together I can see that Sam is the reflection of everything that Buffy is. That is to say, he would have basically become the character of Buffy if he did not have Dean in his life, if he were an only child, he would have a legacy to fulfill despite wanting the opposite but fulfilling exactly the destiny of the.
Now that I'm analyzing the series I see a lot of Buffy in the character of Sam, as if they were inspired by her to create him, which is great and maybe that's why he became my favorite character.
The entire journey that both characters take throughout their lives leads them to the same point, the sacrifice for their brother/sister. Both make the maximum expression of love they can, not for the world, but for the person they love, one has heaven as a reward and the other hell.
When you say that if the character was just Sam in the show, I firmly believe that the show would have been a success just the same.
Sorry for my English.
No worries your English is good. Like you I've always saw a strong parallel between Buffy Summers and Sam Winchester, and even though I've said that Supernatural with just Sam would work with some tweaking (X), it may not lasted 15 years without Dean. But nonetheless the show still could have been a success for five to seven seasons, like Buffy.
Even though Buffy has her Scooby gang, I’ve complained on my blog that they don’t actually listen to her when she needs emotional support.  The one who does give is her polarizing sister.  Buffy’s disgust and disappointment that her closest friends were unable to distinguish between her and Buffybot the sex robot was both hilarious and terribly sad. Fans have even called Buffy "whiny" for having opinions, occasionally being vulnerable, frightened and sad. It couldn’t possibly be because her friends repeatedly fuck her over, she was yanked out of heaven without her consent, she’s been burdened with huge responsibility, and she’s constantly taken for granted, right? She couldn’t possibly have any reason to be angry and to speak up about it.   Just like Sam.
After 22 years, Buffy the Vampire Slayer still holds up. Besides flipping the trope of a small blonde girl chasing after monsters instead of being chased by them, the show helped solidify the formula of season-long story arcs (X) along with stand-alone episodes.  Buffy was basically the precursor to the Golden Age of television; it was ahead of its time.
Buffy Summers and Sam Winchester...
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