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#Literally the actual action doesn't even start until like. An hour and a half in
shima-draws · 1 month
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Speedrunning Dune by watching Dune Part 1 for the first time yesterday and then going to see Dune Part 2 in theaters tonight. LMAO
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aromanticbuck · 1 year
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Hii! I have a question about Pirate AU, I have seen the pic you have posted of Mouse with his look for the AU and it got me curious about the look/clothing you see for Jay? Sorry this is probable very random
Hello!
Maybe this is a little random, but I will always happily talk about Pirate AU! And the costuming, so to speak, isn't something I think I've talked about at all - whether that's publicly on this blog or even in private messages. So this gives me a really good opportunity to explore that!
I know what picture you mean when you refer to Mouse's look - my beloved Sam With A Sword:
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But the thing is... for the vast majority of the fic, he isn't wearing that. He isn't in fighting gear and armor when they're on the ship and out on open ocean, because who does he have to defend himself against? A couple of unarmed royals? He has his grew to pack him up in that case, he doesn't need to be 100% on guard every second of the day. Actually, most of the time, when they're on the ship and sailing or just traveling from port to port, he's in extremely casual clothes, like these:
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if there's one thing consistent about my writing it's that Mouse is always the sluttiest version of himself that he can be
He's casual, and comfortable, because he's not worried about anything. He's leading his crew and his prisoners aren't at risk for escaping and the only thing he has to worry about is listening for whispers in towns for when the king might be ready to pay the ransom to get them back. Everything is working out in his favor, and his look reflects that.
It's only at the end of the fic that Mouse wears his armor and picks up a sword and is in the look above. The climax and finale to the conflict is the only time we see Mouse not relaxed and comfortable, because he's actually in the middle of the action and has something to lose for the first time in his storyline:
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It's the first time he actually has a fight to fight in, and something to fight for, so he puts on his armor and prepares to go to war.
Jay, on the other hand, is kind of the opposite, in a way. He starts the fic very subdued and buttoned up, in a way. The first scene is literally him getting dressed in his nicest clothes so he can be presented to the kingdom as Erin's fiancé, dressed up to play the part of royalty:
The light blue fabric had seemed so plain when he'd started getting dressed in the hours leading up to the party, but that had changed with each new layer. The blue was still visible, the color of the kingdom's crest and flag under the cream colored jacket and pants, gold thread embroidering the sleeves and buttons with symbols of royalty and power.
I had a picture of almost exactly what I was imagining while starting to write the scene, but I lost it somewhere over the last year and a half, so I'll grab something else from my pinterest board for this AU. The first thing we "see" Jay in, in this fic, is extremely formal:
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Even outside of the whole being betrothed to the princess thing, Jay in his palace life generally wears the same kind of thing. It's less formal, but he still wears the kingdom colors when he's in his guard uniform, just with a sword on his hip and fewer accessorites, so to speak:
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But he's wearing that cream and gold and blue when he's grabbed before the party and he's held hostage by Mouse and his crew. He's dragged out of the palace in his fancy clothes without the protection of his sword that he would normally have, when he's dressed up to play this part he's only playing because he knows he needs the security of a comfortable life and the king's favor.
So, he's closed off both literally and figuratively when they're abducted, and then his wardrobe slowly changes when he borrows things from Mouse or the rest of the crew so he has something clean to wear. In fact, in the climax and all of the main action later in the fic, he's wearing clothes almost exclusively from Mouse's wardrobe until he has the chance to change into his uniform before the actual fight:
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It's something casual and comfortable, the kind of thing he's never worn in the palace before, and it's really interesting to go on the journey that brings him to that point!
(I love costuming in shows and film and other performances and the story clothes can tell on their own, and I definitely plan on doing that same kind of thing with this AU, because I'm incapable of being normal about the Pirate AU)
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incarnateirony · 19 days
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That's an interesting feeling. Usually Wrath of Monoceros Caeli came when intense waves of rage were hitting, but the rage has been displaced. I woke up in a chipper mood, playlist found this one, and I dunno man, tastes like liberty now. So does sleeping for 10+ consecutive hours for the first time since beginning this call.
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Guess we can drop Pater Saturnus mode.
[sniffs]
so it should mostly be done, and by that I mean, through today and maybe a ride of momentum but there's nothing more I'm obligated to do, though a few prime messages once located may be saved for posterity and giggles and gas.
So.
Um.
That was a thing that happened.
Hi everybody still here.
...I'd like to think I successfully kept this part of my life pretty quiet and uninvasive until now.
Hiiiiiii you were secretly following a high wizard or some shit my bad guys I try to keep the spoopy to the meta.
I'm actually willing to break down the theory on this but TLDR we are all one mindsoul observing multiple identities that can be traveled with mastered archetypical travel associated to ancestral memory and some other neat tricks, and when someone like her cedes individuality for mimicing shadows, well, that doesn't go great for the one pretending to be an individual while being an identity vampire.
Generally speaking people aren't supposed to be able to travel it like I do but I spent a long time with it. A lot of therapists will tell you to journal or write your problems out, or to build stories, or that stories are jungian. This is fairly literal as it's a method of shadow work. So when she fucked up and stole my shadow writing self idealization block for herself she quite literally nabbed my shadow to wear and call religion. Then plastered Zenthus and others on her altar on other names too without understanding. She never took the journey herself to find herself in the parts so she has a house of externalized playthings.
Half the game is learning to basically surf trends, which is why my uh, potential scale is so high compared to pre-SM generations, or why Claude ends up having value, or the marketing worker placements et al. Then there's essentially musings and inspirations from related astral memory that can be very easy to channel oneself through, and next thing you know, you can literally be up a fandom's ass. Check it out, I'm in the house like CARPET. Anyway that can become anything from action pushes to minor compulsion to real funny thoughts people type, and it moves things, and it moves things, and you can change brainrot flows, essentially. Kinda like me starting my Yugioh spam Jan 23 and gnosis dude I didn't even find till February posts a dragon eye waking up "Yu Gi Oh"--only that and Desires Of Min Yu Gi Oh Is Ra El are his two yugi mentions. Do the math.
Think of it as like, that moment before you think oh my god no thoughts head empty. Like when head empty are you actually there, where have you zoned out to, and are you SURE that fucking toilet bowl thought that inspires 2 months of brainrot wasn't just someone blowing by in the background with their music blasting.
The principle of that is both. When projected outward and disassociated we surrender and even sort of idolize or embody the unknown music blaster, or maybe you recognize his song. Or we can realize, yes, that was my thought, and I own it, and it is mine, because even the man blasting by in the back is part of me, I'm part of this, and I am this and I am all. But DAMN it takes work to really *get there and understand it internally enough for it to work*. Otherwise you're just another dude at church repeating Amen. Hah.
A strong sense of identity, who you are, and what you want to come back to is absolutely necessary to not lose your goddamn mind, whether wearing the trickster hat or knowing how to juggle a few. I work best through Mercurial and Saturnic principles and aspects. We've been in the epic rap battle of history for two deciding the fates in the middle, and 10th house Lloth was one of many. I was just the only one unfortunate enough that she went mad unto being Crackbear.
Anyway if this is matrix why use astrology? Cuz lots of people believe in it, easy to raise; and most people just flat "know" things about how the universe is roughly shaped even if it changes behaviors when we observe it.
Anyway. Like. Occultum Real, and Opposite Matrix. Like my heaven meta charts. That Claude's been shitting out improved versions of with my shit printed in it. Wild.
Anyway, it's not magic. It's a lot of things but it's not some unknown thing. It is somewhat indistinguishable from it, but it's a science, a collective of psychology, math, quantum physics, philosophy, but it's a science. If one were to simpify, it's ff7. Everything is a memory.
The funny thing about this is it means, literally, all religions and pantheons et al are true, and all are false, at the same time. A little bit of, we're all right and we're all wrong, but it's all there in the memory, stories passed from generations drawn from within, men confused with gods and thus become gods, and so on. Like me, trying to beat off a cult with a stick, only for it to transfer to janus getting the cult, but that's fine, you work through that one buddy.
No seriously even during this even when I said no, I'm not a god, I'm a man, like 200 times, I still had dipthong trolls in my inbox going "so you're a god? So you're all gods?" Fuck. THERE IS NO SPOON THERE IS NO GODS THERE IS NO MAN THERE IS ONLY US OR I. OKAY. IF I'M A GOD YOU'RE A GOD, BUT I SAY NAW MAN IO PAN IO PAN I AM A MOTHERFUCKIN MAN, DO WHAT THOU WILT AS A GREAT GOD CAN.
But think of it as literally the Hero's Journey, which is why Hero With 1000 Faces is chock full of alchemy just like psychology is. It's the same bag. The archetypes pave the way. Whether that be Hermes in greek or a Loki in Germanic. Slightly different people, but generally from the trickster archetype, and generally in an associated ancestral vein deep down. But also why like, she confused me with Hermes, Loki, whoever. I mean sure sometimes, if that's the hat I have on, but this whole thing is about her trying to steal my own personal hat, that's the problem. She won't be assed to make her own hat. Then further back you see the evocations to Eros and Romeo Radio, for example, cuz that's wayback in this wayback machine, and so on. Hermanubis and the cat bowl. Whatever. Check it out I'm up her ass like CARPET.
But I can ironically now disassociate from my little pyramids past present and future and let them do as they will to her, and have already done, and it is done. And the only way out of it is the truth, and facing herself, but the longer she runs from it the more impossible that will be.
Anyway, plagiarism bad, but plagiarism is worse when you're stealing someone else's lifetime of shadow works and turning them into new toys and trinkets, without actually working or writing your way through it yourself. Never, ever steal another practitioner's personal works in any form to put on your theater with, or you have surrendered everything of yourself.
She's never inspected leviathan, she thinks he's something Without. How then would she know that Leviathan, Apep and Zenthus are One? She's never inspected Hermes, she thinks he's something without. How unsurprised are we that she gets lost among shades of Tricksters she thinks are without? She's never inspected any of this. Closest she inspected was Athena, and she still insists on putting her in the Without.
She dispossessed herself to my Coyote-faced Aaron as Hermes himself, she dispossessed herself to enshrine the snake of shadow she ripped from an Amentian thinking it was a scarf, and follows it's lead. She still uses the reviving spiral flower from my old works, and plays at saying empty things without understanding. It is the definition of easy to use, when she signed her shit to me and stubbornly sits on my dick while pretending she can't see it. Now almost her whole house is built either to me or by me. Lucifer say, stop playing house with these birds, but thanks for bringing home 8ball chloe sunflower. Spicy messenger bird. Next time, look closer before shoving a bird in a cage.
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wizkiddx · 3 years
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work with me
this is for @worldoftom 'lolbrosgetsicktoo' challenge event thing - go check it out bcos lots of much better writers have got involved too✨! I'm v new to these things but I tried :) the prompt was: 'would you quit whining and just get in the bath' . (also look at me acc posting sort of regularly, who'd of thought?!?!)
warnings: sickness / fever (more dramatic than it needs to be) / LOTS of medical inaccuracies
summary: when tom doesn't take advice and ends up very ill, very far from home, there's one person whose stuck dealing with it
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“Please Tom… I need you to work with me!”
It wasn’t his fault he was being a complete nightmare, though your patience was wearing off somewhat.
For context, you were in Morocco, where he had been filming part of his next film, which only made trying to take care of him that bit harder.
Everyone got ill sometimes. It wasn’t his fault.
That was the mantra ringing through your head, even if you had a more challenging time believing it. Tom wasn’t stupid, as much as he liked to joke about it. HOWEVER, what he was less good at was heeding warnings. He was a white boy in Morrocco; the health and safety briefing had literally been aimed at him. Had he taken the advice not to eat any dodgy looking meats at the market?
Of course not; that’d be boring.
Everyone else was fine. You’d all sampled Morroccos culture without giving yourselves the worst case of food poisoning you’d ever witnessed. But not Tom - possibly one of the only ‘indispensable’ people on the set. If you, or one of the minor characters, or even the director, had got ill - the show could continue.
When you’d been rudely awoken by your phone going off, you’d known instantly. It was as if you’d told him not to take a bite out of the weird burger once you were away from the eager view of the street vendor. Sure enough, with bleary eyes, you hissed at the brightness of the phone screen before seeing ‘Tom H’ on the screen.
“Y/n?” His voice was croaky, but just from the single call of your name, it was clear he was feeling sorry for himself.
“Are you okay? It’s late T.”
“Um I… can you come over? You…you might need the key I’m - um- in the bathroom.”
As his stylist, it technically wasn’t part of your job description to also be mother when he was sick, but (unfortunately for you) after the 3 years working side by side with him - you were also friends.
Which you were almost regretting by the second time rinsing the toilet bowl clean after he’d evacuated what seemed to be the majority of his vital organs into it. Honestly, it was impressive how he managed to keep going.
That had been at around 4 in the morning- the doctor had been called at 8, coinciding beautifully with his 5th toilet extravaganza. Once the doctor had confirmed your original, if completely unqualified, diagnosis of food poisoning - you hadn’t been able to bite your tongue. Perhaps an ‘i told you so’ might’ve slipped past your lips, but Tom was a bit too out of it to argue back.
You’d been given firm advice from the doctor - he said little sips of water, rest and control his temperature. It all had seen pretty simple - though the action? Not so much.
It wasn’t his fault, yet Tom was not super compliant. You and Harry had both been taking turns in practically forcing him to take sips of water, having to turn off ‘modern family’ till he did. The blackmail had put you both in his bad book.
Honestly, thank the lord Harry was here too. You’d woken him up at seven, begging for help and since then, you’d tagged teamed. While one was looking after Tom, the other was phoning the director, the doctor, and the crew to inform them of the current situation.
Again, of all people. Why’d it have to be Tom?
Mainly because you knew how mortifying he found this. He didn’t like people fussing over him, never had. He liked to work hard, liked to make people happy - definitely didn’t like to feel a burden. Perhaps what made him feel ten times worse was that he knew he was inconveniencing the whole production team massively.
And yes, as you’d unhelpfully reminded him, it was ‘his fault’.
The lavish hotel room, big bathroom and pretty efficient AC still didn’t manage to mask the pungent in-the-back-of-your-throat smell from the bathroom. At the doctor’s advice, who had been a little concerned at Toms fever, Harry had cranked the AC on high. It had forced you to steal one of Tom’s big hoodies and a pair of joggers- you hadn’t left his room since he first called you, still wearing your tiny pyjama shorts and an old tee.
“Please turn the air con off.” His little voice whined from where he was lying, huddled up under the covers. Perched on the other side of the double bed, but over the covers with your laptop on his lap, you could actually feel him shivering with the chills. It felt like you were torturing the poor boy.
“T you know I can’t. It’ll make your fever worse.” The way he looked up at you, like a little Labrador that you were refusing to pet, actually pained your heart.
Okay, so yes it was his fault, but you weren’t mad, you just felt so awful for him.
“Please I’ll- I’ll pay you more.” His voice was hoarse; though he denied a sore throat, it sounded like the constant sickness was burning his windpipe.
“Tommm” you pouted, sticking your bottom lip out “I don’t want your money, want you to get better.”
Apparently giving up, brown eyes shot you the filthiest look in disappointment, rolling to face away from you. You thought he was giving you the silent treatment in a huff, but instead, he was praying on the weaker one.
“Harry, I’ll buy you that set of golf clubs-“
“NO!” You had to interrupt before Harry would say yes - because from the way his younger brother shot up from the arm chair, he was about to. Scowling eyes slowly focused back on you in annoyance, making you huff - shutting the laptop and kneeling on the bed to face him. After pressing the back of your palm to his forehead, which was scorching hot, you sighed. “I know you feel shitty and I’m so so sorry but I’m trying to make you better. So shut up, drink this and go to sleep!”
Like a child scorned, you received another death glare however, then he complied, taking a sip of the water you offered before lying back - huddling even tighter.
And it had been relatively peaceful for a few hours; Tom seemed to be getting some sleep - even if he was tossing and turning. Eventually, a prescription that the doctor had requested worked its way through the system, Harry getting a text to say he could go pick it up. The nearest pharmacy was probably a 30 minute drive from the hotel, so he left as soon as.
This left you alone with Tom, where the situation only descended into more chaos.
Almost as soon as Harry had left, Tom had stirred with a grunt. All it took was one look at his face for you to know. Both of you leapt up and flew into the toilet, Tom once again getting very familiar with the Moroccan toilet bowl.
This time though, when he had leant backwards, he’d sort of lost control and flopped most the way - you catching him before he could hit his head on the tiled floor.
“Woah, easy there!” It wasn’t like he’d passed out, but the look in his eye as he slumped into your lap… he wasn’t all there either. “Hey Tom… you with me? Tom?”
Lazily he blinked up at you, not really replying except for groans of half-formed words.
Deciding this had all got a bit direr, you almost sprinted back into the room, grabbing your phone and returning. He was still on the floor, his thumb and first finger pressing into each eye - groaning again.
“Hey Tom? I’m gonna call the doctor you need anything?” He whined in response, stopping only when you stroked his sweaty hair back, most of your attention on dialling the correct number.
The solution he’d given wasn’t pretty: Tom’s fever was too high hence why he was all woozy and groany. Until the doctor could get over with the stronger medications, you needed to lower his temperature in other ways or take him to hospital. He’d absolutely hate hospital, but the other choice? Boy, was he not going to like it either.
Ignoring Tom’s croaked question of what you were doing, you busied yourself switching on the bath taps. You let the water run until it was the right (very mild) temperate, then turned back to Tom, who’d managed to work himself up to sit against the sink unit.
“The doctor says you need it.” His brain was foggy, his mind was slow but your tone told him enough to know something was wrong with the bath. “Just take your clothes off and then I’ll help you-“
“Absolutely fucking not.” Good. He was still with it enough to argue.
“I am just as uncomfortable as you are Tom, but we both know you can’t stand up without fainting, so you are going to need my help.”
“Y/n!”
“Keep your boxers on and it’s just like a fitting! I’ve seen you have those before!”
It was clear as day just how emasculated he felt, especially because he knew you were right. Sitting up at this current moment was a push; there was no way he was getting in the bath without some help. Defeatedly he nodded, but gave you a piercing look to turn around before he started wiggling himself out of the flannel pyjama trousers and light cotton t-shirt. Most confusingly, he still felt freezing cold, yet he had long since learned not to argue with you - especially when your justification came from the advice of a doctor.
Your cue to turn around came in the form of an extra angry-sounding grunt- the look you got when you did wasn’t much better either. It was a weird contrast, though, having someone who physically appeared so indestructible (a superhero for crying out loud); to have been absolutely beaten to a pulp by a few mouth fulls of weird meat. You had seen his bare torso before, although it still wasn’t something easy to get used to - making you clench your teeth together just slightly. A very welcome view.
Perhaps you looked just a little too long at the man who was technically your boss, hunched angrily on the floor in nothing but his calvins - another grunt shaking you out of it. By now, the bath was almost full and you hurried to shut off the water, feeling your cheeks heat up as you cursed silently to yourself.
“Okay come on, gimme your arm.” Begrudgingly Tom followed your request, slinging his arm heavily over your shoulder as you crouched beside him. As strong as he looked, you knew right now he felt powerlessly weak - all that muscle was just going to be almost dead weight.
Now it was your turn to grunt and groan as you pulled Tom up to stand, him focusing on blinking away the headrush he got.
“Come on T work with me here.” Getting him to the side of the bath wasn’t too difficult, the issue came when he stepped with one foot into the bath and yelped, instantly withdrawing as if it was a literal ice bath.
The sudden movement had you both losing balance, ending with Tom sitting on the edge of the bath and you leaning over him, in between his legs, and slapping your hand on the wall opposite purely so you both didn’t end up in the bath.
“Tom!”
“It’s like ice water!”
“Its lukewarm like the doctor said!”
“It is not its from the fucking arctic!”
“Oh for god sake!” Exasperated, you paced up and down the bathroom shaking your head at his ridiculousness. This was ALL. HIS. FAULT.
You came back to him with an ultimatum.
“It’s this or the doctor said I had to drag your ass to hospital.”
“Nooooooo.” The 25 year old seemed to convert into a whiny three year old again.
“Those are the two options. So will you PLEASE quit complaining and get in the bath.”
Keeping up the toddler persona, Tom huffed but reluctantly nodded in agreement - you had come up trumps. It didn’t stop him yelping when you helped to lower him in. His breath was shaky, as a response to the ‘cold’, but he was firming it. At least when you felt his forehead after a couple of minutes, it certainly seemed as though the fever was starting to ease off .
“You can go if you want.” His voice was murmured and as you looked up at him, he did his very best to avoid your gaze.
“Not a chance, if you drown on my watch, Nikki will never forgive me.” At the very least he seemed to appreciate your joke, scoffing a little with a small nod. “If you don’t want me here I get it. As soon as Harry’s back, I’ll swap with him.”
“No! It’s not that its… I’m just an ass when I’m ill.”
“A self aware ass, though.” Again he chuckled a little, as you folded your arms on the edge of the porcelain tub, resting your head lying to one side. “You had me pretty scared there for a moment, you know?”
He nodded a little, creating a wave of ripples in the water which you watched to avoid his gaze - which you knew was tracing all your features inquisitively.
“Hey it’s in the job description, always a bit dramatic... I’m sorry though I should never of called you- don’t know why I didn’t just get Harry.” In response you tutted, taking a moment to lean up and push his sweaty curls back a bit.
Just because you could, it was allowed in this moment.
“’m glad you did.”
“Yeh me too” He sighed, eyes fluttering shut in the easy silence of the bathroom. You kept a vigilant eye on him for the next 20 minutes, checking the temperature of his forehead using the back of your hand, whilst he seemed to finally get a bit of proper restbite, appearing like the worst had passed. You had no idea what was taking Harry so long; in fact it was the doctor that arrived first- who you ran to let in (not wanting to leave Tom asleep in the bath one bit).
Whilst the doctor did all his checks, taking his temperature properly this time, satisfied that it was much more manageable. He still wanted to set him up with some oral rehydration rescue packs to get his hydration status a bit better and give some anti-sickness tablets and antipyretics.
Having actually been getting some rest before all the prodding and poking, Tom was back to being a grumbling dick - now not wanting to leave the bath (the irony was real - making you roll your eyes). Once again, he appeared embarrassed to have you see him like this, so you left the doctor to help him get out and changed- instead going down to reception to get a fresh set of sheets, as he’d done a pretty impressive job of sweating through the old ones.
Even if tired and grumpy, when Tom exited the bathroom, he looked much better - he was walking himself without the doctor’s help. Which honestly was such a relief because when he had passed out on you, you genuinely were terrified. Thankfully the doctor stayed for the next 20 or so minutes, which was just when Harry returned with a bag of medications - which were now wholly redundant, given the doctor had already supplied everything.
“What happened?” Harry asked you in a hushed voice, whilst Tom was distracted with getting his medications. Recounting the story of Tom pretty much passing out, Harry grimaced for you, then launching over to give you a tight hug.
“Are you okay?” That was a novel idea, you hadn’t really thought about yourself at all - but honestly, you were a bit shaken, having been running on adrenalin for most of the night.
“I-uhm… yeh I think so… just-just was a bit scared, I guess? Felt bad too because he didn’t want me there but-“
“I can promise you Y/n, he did want you there. Just probably embarrassed he wasn’t all manly and that…” With a nod, you smiled softly at the frizzy-haired boy.
Whilst working with Tom, it also meant getting pretty close to his younger brother. The two Hollands were almost attached at the hip, which you were very much okay with.
It was weird though... your relationships were completely different. Harry was just your brother, through and through. He wound you up like a sibling but also knew you as if he had your whole life. With Tom… it wasn’t that. Arguably, you were closer to Tom, but on a different level. It was more exciting, more nerve-wracking and heartwarming all at the same time. Honestly, you couldn’t get your head around it properly.
“Hey, you’re probably shattered. Why don’t you go back to your room and get some sleep? I got it in here.” You knew Hary was trying to offer something nice, and now all the excitement had worn off, you were unbelievably shattered. But you didn’t like the idea of not being there, as a just in case.
“Uhm, I think I might just stay, you know?” And he did, with a deliberate, knowing smile, he nodded.
He knew you were worried. He knew Tom had really really scared you. He also knew how much you cared about his brother.
Just like how Harry knew Tom wanted you there, even if he felt embarrassed. Well, anyone would- when you are passing out half-naked in front of the one person that really matters.
It was just at this point that the doctor was done, giving Harry instructions about the rest of the day, when you made a beeline for the bed. Tom was propped up against the headboard, still with a pale sullen look and tired eyes, but a bit less clammy and more human. He cracked a smile as you crawled up onto the other side of the bed, kneeling next to him.
“How’re you doin’?”
“All drugged up, just feel fucking exhausted.” Instinctively you reached up to feel his forehead, really appreciating the fact it felt almost normal.
“Join the club mate, I had a 5am wake up call too.” You almost whispered, intending to make Tom laugh, but instead only getting a pout.
“I am sorry, a-are you going to go back to your room?”
“Nah” Tom’s eyes didn’t light up, except the fact that they very much did. “Can’t trust you not to get into trouble while I’m gone Holland.”
“Thanks.” He laughed weakly before shimmying down on the bed, so he was much more comfortable. “And thankyou, I-I’m sorry I’m a dickhead and made your life-“
“Shut up Tom!” Laughing, you lightly slapped his arm, also leaning down on the bed, so you were lying facing him. “You’re all feverish; go to sleep before you say something stupid.”
There was a long pause, Tom just gazing deep into your eyes, because he was pretty sure what he was thinking was nothing to do with the dodgy unidentified meat he’d had the evening before.
“What... like asking you out?”
…..
“Maybe that wouldn’t be so stupid.”
~~~~im really not sure how I feel about this one, let me know what you thought ;) ~~~~
tagging: @lovehollandy12 @hallecarey1 @crossyourpeter@hollandfanficlove
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dr3amofagame · 3 years
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haha your snippit abt the dispenser got me thinking.
Dream gets let out of prison and he talks constantly, whatever is on his mind. And he's positive all the time. To a fault where people walk over him. And it doesn't make sense because he was tortured right???? But after an incident they find out it's because he hates the sound of silence and needs constant reminders that other people are there. Also he was punished for any negative emotions in the prison so his default is happy now,,,
hi anon !! this concept makes me SO goddamn sad ,, the idea that he Has to be happy bc anything else would mean punishment im so *punches the walls*
this ,, ficlet is honestly. pretty ooc, not really related to the ask at all, and mostly an excuse for me to cry abt c!dream and c!punz for an excessive amount of time (technically the vote on twitter was supposed to have this as c!sapnap pov, but i just wrote one for him so i went for c!punz instead. mostly bc i wanted to write him LMAO). hopefully someone enjoys it despite *gestures vaguely* all of that mess
tw: trauma, disordered eating, implied torture/abuse, blood, injuries, unhealthy coping mechanisms, emotional distress, thoughts of murder/mercy killing, mentioned animal death, dark content
In the end, it’s all rather anticlimactic, the complete opposite of Dream’s vault and the whole fiasco of adrenaline and theatrics that had made up that day. Quackity ended up having one too many drinks, bragged about the wrong thing to the wrong person - Punz doesn’t know the specifics, only knows that one thing has led to another and suddenly Sapnap was screaming at his ex-fiancé, sword pointed at his chest and tears streaming down his eyes in the middle of the Community House floor, everyone else stood around and watching. A look into Quackity’s office said everything he didn’t - the chests and chests of used and new tools, shiny and sharpened and completely rusted over with blood and everything in between. There’s been a balled up shirt in the wastebasket, completely unsalvageable from how saturated it was with blood, more red than white, and perhaps most chilling of all the calendar, marked with X after X in red pen, going back months and speaking to their utter failure to see what had been happening all but right in front of them.
With Quackity down, Sam caved not too long after, and with his input getting into the prison was no challenge at all. The only thing holding them back were bad memories and the tense, worried edge to Sam’s jaw as he led the small group of them - himself and Sapnap, actually entering the facility, Bad and Puffy waiting outside - carrying them through winding corridor after winding corridor and lava pit after lava pit, until they’d come to stand before a chasm filled with flowing lava, slowly draining before the main cell.
“I- I have to warn you,” Sam had muttered, uncharacteristically hesitant, “it looks…pretty bad,” and Punz would’ve questioned him further, but the lava had fallen far enough to reveal the topmost edge of the cell, so they let Sapnap hound the Warden for information as they directed their full attention on the cell itself and holy shit.
Nothing Sam said could’ve possibly have prepared them for the sight - it was a complete fucking bloodbath, crimson painting the walls and smeared over the floor and splattered over every visible surface like some abstract art experiment gone wrong. The stench of iron and burning flesh and viscera was awful, even over the gap marked by the still-draining lava. Punz strained his eyes; at the very back of the cell, huddled, unmoving, was a similarly bloodstained shape that must’ve been Dream. They remember the crack of Sapnap’s knuckles meeting Sam’s face and breaking his nose, remember themselves chucking a pearl and feeling along Dream’s neck desperately for a pulse - everything beyond that became a swirl of voices and panic and crying that makes their head hurt to think about, so they don’t.
Recovery is…messy. The physical side had been bad enough - pulling Dream out of the cell, barely breathing, limp in his arms and far too light, all Punz could think about was a sheep he’d found a year ago, frail and struggling to breathe, one he’d ended up killing - quick and painless - with a sword through the skull because it seemed kinder than letting it suffer. Watching Dream struggle on the bed, laid up in Bad’s mansion because none of them knew if he’d survive going any further, body resisting the potions they’d slowly forced down his throat after being so over-saturated on them, temperature spiking and heat baking into his skin like the lava from the prison had been imprinted onto his body, Punz feels the same strange mixture of pity and unease, wonders if it’d be a hell of a lot kinder if they just put him out of his fucking misery.
Still, because Dream is a stubborn bastard, against all odds, he ends up surviving - his fever breaks, the potions begin taking effect, and a few tireless, aching days later his eyes flutter open, lucid for the first time in a week. Punz isn’t even in the room when he wakes, only knows that it happens because the too-quiet room suddenly erupts in noise and activity, muffled thumps and sounds of a struggle undercutting Bad’s frantic calls for someone to help, anyone, and they run into the room to find Dream thrashing on the bed, wounds reopened and blood dripping onto the sheets, eyes wild and wide as his head whips from side to side so hard Punz is half-afraid that he’ll straight up break his neck. Somehow, worst of all, not a single scream falls from his lips, nothing but muffled whines squeezing past his mouth, clenched shut, and for a singular, awful second they wonder how long it took before he realized that screaming was useless.
Fortunately enough for them, or unfortunately, it’s not like he can tell the fucking difference anymore, the panic and strain end up with Dream passing out altogether, and they trade uneasy glances with Bad before going to clean off the worst of his wounds. If everything they’re doing feels hopeless, dressing up wounds that’ll be torn open hours later when Dream is awake enough to feel fear but not much else because he’s forgotten what it’s like to not be afraid - well, that’s for them to think and everyone else to pretend not to agree with.
Weeks pass along the same vein - Dream wakes up, panics; they try to calm him down, fails; he falls back into unconsciousness, and they move on and pretend that they’re cleaning up wounds from battle and not from someone that’s literally been tortured for months on end. People stop by, occasionally; Puffy spends more time than not inside the mansion, but hardly ever enters the door into Dream’s room, Sapnap and George drop by occasionally with potion brewing supplies that the rest of them can’t go out to get; once, he’d gone out to the front door to find a chest with an enchanted golden apple, sender nowhere in sight. He knows that the server is busy; Quackity’s admission had brought more than a few secrets to light, and from what they understand, the political fallout has been pretty damn messy. Still, he stays in the mansion, and watches.
He doesn’t exactly know why he stays. They’re not a stellar healer, not beyond what they know to dress their own wounds, and spend most of their time doing odd-and-ends tasks for Bad, who looks more tired than ever. Maybe it’s because he’s seen Dream at his worst more than the rest of them, had been there through his entire fall from grace, watched as his eyes became clouded with anger and madness and a single, desperate hope that he’d chased at the cost of his world and himself. Maybe it’s because they have no ties to the rest of the server - not to Las Nevadas, falling apart under the scrutiny of the eyes that now fall upon it, not Snowchester, caught up in the chaos, not the Badlands, half-dissolved after the fiasco of the Egg and with Sam’s actions having just come to light. Maybe it’s because above everything else, he feels guilty.
They’d thought the prison was the answer. It’d seemed too simple, back in that Vault - a perfect answer, because everyone else was perfectly happy to watch Dream die another time and some part of them had clenched painfully at the thought even thought they knew it was for the best. The prison meant that he’d be alive, if angry, and at some point when he had the time or the nerve or the guts he could go and visit, and they would talk, and Dream would be angry but with time maybe he could even understand.
They hadn’t wanted this. He can’t imagine anyone wanting this.
“Punz?” They don’t jump at the voice at their back, they don’t, but Bad still has a tiny, tight-lipped smile when they turn around anyway, eyes creased in the corners and still not as bright as they’d been before the Egg. Bad looks at him knowingly, setting a bowl of soup into his hands. “For Dream, if you can get him to eat.” He shifts a pointed gaze towards the door. “Maybe you two could talk.”
“About what?” The words come out harsher than they intend, and they take a moment to bite back the mostly self-directed anger that Bad doesn’t deserve to receive the brunt of. “I just-” he waves his hand in the air, trying to articulate the mess that is his relationship with Dream without the words to explain it. “I don’t know, man.”
“You don’t have to talk about everything,” Bad says, calm as always, eyes flicking down to the bowl of soup in his hands. “Just start with the soup.”
Punz sighs. “I’ll try.”
He enters the room in a single, fluid motion, mostly because he knows that if he were to stop at the door then he’d never actually make his way in. Dream flinches back when they enter, eyes going wide and stance going rigid, and the familiarity doesn’t make the sight any easier to bear as they wait, as always, for Dream’s eyes to clear enough for him to realize he’s in the mansion and not stuck in that same obsidian hellhole.
“I brought soup,” they say, finally, when Dream looks up. Dream’s lips twitch up in what he probably means as a smile; between the still-healing gashes on his face and the fear that flashes over his expression, still, it comes out as more of a grimace.
“Thanks.” Dream looks away. “I’ll eat it later.”
Liar, Punz thinks tiredly, moving closer to set the bowl down on the nightstand by the bed. They frown as Dream’s expression goes slack and distanced, again, eyes fixed to stare blankly at the wall once again.
“You should have some now,” he tries, careful to keep his words even. “You need the calories.”
“I’m good,” Dream says, automatic, just shy of sincere. “Thank you.”
“Dream,” they don’t quite succeed at keeping a displeased sigh from falling from their lungs, and bite back a curse at themselves when Dream pulls back with a silent flinch. It’s so goddamn hard, to talk to this version of Dream, both of them feeling around the edges of their relationship like walking on goddamn eggshells. A few months ago, he would’ve straight up called Dream out on his bullshit, get it through his thick skull that the whole ‘I’m fine and don’t need anyone’ act was stupid and completely failing to convince him. Here, they bite back another sigh, look forlornly at the bowl of the soup on the nightstand, sure to go uneaten once again, and force themselves to sound completely neutral when they speak again. “Alright. You’ll have to eat at some point, though.”
“Mmhm,” Dream hums noncommittally, once again staring at the wall. Punz stares at his hands. This is so fucking pointless.
“So,” they say after a few seconds, Bad’s words echoing in their head - they can try to make an effort to talk, sure. It’s just that Dream’s not going to cooperate. “How are you, man?”
The words come out stilted, awkward. He looks up to watch Dream’s expression, as the other man begins to gnaw on the inside of his cheek.
“I’m good,” he says, words deliberately light. “You?”
“Dream…”
“I’m fine.” Dream’s voice sharpens suddenly, breath hitching, before he shakes his head and turns his head away. “I’m fine.”
Punz looks at him incredulously. “Are you serious? Do we need to get into exactly how not-fine you are?” They wave a hand in his direction, jaw clenching when he rears back. “Do ‘fine’ people lose their minds from someone waving at them, now?”
“I-” For a second, Dream glares at him, eyes burning with a familiar, irritated fire that Punz knows all-too-well from having it directed at him a few too many times, before it suddenly dies and Dream is swinging his head back to the bedsheets, hands tightening on the cloth as he stammers. “I- What do you want?”
Punz breathes a soft sigh, regret blooming in the center of their chest. “Sorry,” he mumbles, careful to keep their gestures overly-telegraphed and away from the other man’s face. “I’m just- you’re not okay, man. No one’s expecting you to be okay after...all of that.”
“But why?”
Dream’s voice is small, nearly a sob, and Punz directs wide, alarmed eyes to where he’s hunched in over himself, knees pulled to his chest, hands staring at the sheets pulled over them. “Why?” he says, again, quieter, lip trembling slightly.
“Because you were tortured,” Punz begins, words slow as they watch Dream’s expression, trying to pull out the thoughts behind his averted eyes, “Because the cell was inhumane, and nobody deserves to be treated like that. Because you were hurt very, very badly because of what we did, and none of us are expecting you to be fine right after going through months of trauma.” He pauses. “You know that, right?”
“But I’m out,” Dream says, quiet, disbelieving, instead of answering their question. “I’m out of there. It’s over. It’s- everything’s good,” he whispers, more to himself than to them, hands curling into fists and then uncurling. “I’m- they said I would never get out. And I’m outside, and it’s not- not the cell, and I get real food, and Quackity doesn’t visit anymore,” he shakes his head, eyes squeezing shut as his breath catches in his throat. “I’m happy- I should be happy. Right?”
“Oh Dream,” the other man flinches back, breath quickening, and Punz’s hand stops short from where he’d almost let it fall onto the other’s shoulder. “You don’t have to be happy, man. Not- not after all of that. Not if you’re not ready yet.” Dream’s eyes, wide and wet, rise to look at their own, and they feel more than hear the soft, wounded noise that leaves their lips. “It’s ok to be hurt. It’s ok to be scared. No one’s blaming you, alright? No one’s gonna hurt you anymore.”
This, more than anything, seems to be the breaking point, because Dream collapses forward, hands flying up to pull at his tangled hair before Punz manages to ease them away and into his own hands, watching as he grips onto them until his knuckles go white. His breathing shudders, quiet, even his sobs muffled as to make as little noise as possible, and they murmur meaningless croons and hums as he cries into their chest.
“I wanna- I wanna be okay,” he hiccups, and Punz smooths his hair back behind their hand.
“I know,” he swallows around the lump that has risen in his own throat. “I’m sorry.”
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classysassy9791 · 3 years
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Fandom: Inuyasha Genre: Romance/Humor/Fluff Pairing: InuKag Rating: T
Originally written for @inukag-week on tumblr circa 2016, now officially being updated. Its been a hot minute, hasn't it?
For InuKag Week - Day 2: Warmth
Part 1 l
Part 2 Word Count: 2,600
Can also be found on FFN and AO3.
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Kagome couldn't remember the last time she had laughed so hard.
Sometime between the moment she met the arrogant, rude man known as Inuyasha and the three shots she had consumed, they had fallen into a flirtatious banter that she rather enjoyed. Gone was the pompous jerk who had so rudely called her audacious names, replaced by a man who proved to actually be decent company.
No, she hadn't forgotten about their initial meeting, but as she downed another shot of whiskey, she realized she didn't much care. For the first time in months - maybe longer - Kagome found herself enjoying her evening. With her shackles removed and her inhibitions lowered, she relished in the sweet taste of freedom that had been sorely lacking from her life.
"You did not!" she squealed with absurdity in her tone, clamping a hand over her mouth.
Inuyasha chuckled, tilting his glass and giving a half-shrug. "I did," he confessed sheepishly, but not at all ashamed of his actions. "Miroku ran down the dorm hall, completely naked, screaming after me."
Kagome shook her head. "I can honestly say I have never stolen my roommates clothes while they were in the shower. Or pulled any pranks on them, really."
"To be fair," he continued, signaling the bartender for another round. "He actually met his girlfriend that way."
"By running naked down the hallway?"
He nodded. "Knocked her down and stopped to apologize."
"Still want to leave the tab open?" Kouga interrupted.
"Yeah, that's fine." Inuyasha finished off his beer. "Another round of whiskey shots while you're at it."
Flashing Kagome a smile, Kouga took their empty glasses. "You're going to dry me out."
"It's still early," Kagome barbed playfully. "Your bar will last until midnight at the very least."
He chuckled, filling up their shot glasses and handing them another drink. "Oh, thanks. I was afraid I'd have to close up soon."
Leaving with a, "flag me down if you need me," Kouga wandered to the other end of the bar where a busty blonde waved at him.
Typical, Kagome thought sourly. On the one hand, she didn't like the way her thoughts were turning, considering she didn't really know Kouga, and hated grouping him in with the rest of the spineless male population she had become accustomed to - especially since he was a bartender and it was literally his job to tend to the needs of his customers. But on the other hand, she couldn't help but feel bitter about his attention leaving her. Maybe it was because she had so blatantly been deprived of it for so long, that her longing for companionship had been exacerbated ten-fold.
Taking a sip of beer - which she had switched to once they started doing shots - Kagome heard her phone buzz in her purse again; it had already gone off several times during her conversation with Inuyasha. She finally pulled it out and unlocked it, frowning at the array of messages popping up on her screen.
Inuyasha raised a brow at the irritable look that overcame her expression before Kagome sighed and locked her phone. She quickly downed her shot of whiskey, not even bothering to 'cheers' him.
"Everything okay?" Inuyasha questioned, against his better judgement. There was a reason people showed up by themselves at a bar on Friday nights - either to drown their sorrows in whiskey or to find company for a few fleeting, midnight hours.
Kagome pressed her lips together. She didn't come to the bar to talk about her problems. She wasn't some sad case that needed a therapist to pour her drinks. If anything, she wanted to forget about the emotional damage that had been inflicted earlier that day. Her heart had been broken, her ego bruised, and no matter how many times her friends had told her he wasn't worth it, their sympathies didn't make her feel any better.
But, alcohol had a funny habit of turning into truth serum, and she found herself spilling her guts before she could stop herself. "Just my ex-boyfriend - er, fiance - blowing up my phone."
Inuyasha chuckled. "Can't take a hint, huh?"
Kagome shrugged with a bitter smile. "I mean, he broke off the engagement. Not sure why he can't follow through with his decision."
She had expected sympathy, perhaps even empathy. That's what most people offered in a situation like this, when they didn't know what to say or how to react. But Kagome was caught off-guard by Inuyasha's next question.
"How long were you together?"
Kagome eyed him curiously, his honey gaze hiding a wealth of understanding. "Five years," she answered him, twirling a strand of her dark hair around her finger. "Planned our life together, put a ring on it, and even booked the venue. But… I suppose he got cold feet a long time ago."
"His loss. What kind of bastard would put someone through that?"
She hummed thoughtfully, but didn't answer. It wasn't in her best interest to start talking about the past now, and she would rather take the spotlight off of herself all together. "What about you?" she asked her barstool companion as she took another sip of beer. "Any lucky ladies in your life?"
Inuyasha chuckled mirthlessly. "Nah, not anymore."
Kagome arched a brow. "Dare I ask?"
"Not much to tell. Her career and ambitions drove a wedge between us, and she decided they were more important than me. Simple as that."
"Sounds high maintenance."
He grinned. "Something like that. I mean, she knew what she wanted and didn't care what stood in her way. Even me."
Kagome felt an ache beneath her breast for the man beside her. She knew the pain of rejection very well. "Put out in the rain just like a dog. Doesn't that bother you?" she asked, tilting her head.
He frowned at her choice of words, and Kagome knew she may have touched a nerve then, but the alcohol had stripped her of her filter apparently.
"Well, I guess we're all damaged somehow," he replied with a shrug.
She scrunched her nose. "That's a bit thoughtless."
"What can I say? Shit happens. Get over it."
And then Kagome suddenly remembered the arrogant, rude, condescending jerk she had met when she had sat down at the bar earlier in the night. She narrowed her eyes. "Why are you such an ass?"
Inuyasha smirked while bringing his beer to his lips. "You are what you eat?"
Kagome let loose a growl of frustration. She had only known him for a short time, but she had quickly learned that Inuyasha was the most infuriating human being on the planet! "Your immaturity is revolting," she stated matter-of-factly, waving down Kouga for another shot of whiskey. She was definitely not drunk enough to deal with the way the conversation had turned.
"I'm not known for my friendly disposition."
Kagome glared at the man sitting next to her. "Is it fun being a jerk to me? Does it satisfy you?"
Inuyasha chuckled. "Actually, it is pretty entertaining."
She rolled her eyes. "You know, Inuyasha. You can hide behind that fake bravado all you want, but I know you're just a big softie underneath."
"Keh," he grumbled, finishing off his beer.
Kagome threw him a glare. "What? No witty repartee?"
He set down his empty glass with a little more force than usual, grabbing Kagome's attention. "I know your type, wench," he snapped, his amber eyes boring into hers. "I know exactly the kind of person you are; all high and mighty, acting as if you're better than everyone else. You think you can show someone how great life can be and how fantastic it is if I would just try. Well, sorry to break it to you, sweetheart, but not everyone is worth saving, all right?"
His words left Kagome stunned into silence for a brief moment. How did their witty banter only a few minutes ago turn into this? This… This denied anger and unadulterated cynicism had Kagome reeling, her thoughts turning to what exactly had penetrated Inuyasha's life so completely that he had such a negative outlook on such.
She pursed her lips. "How much do you think you're worth?"
Inuyasha shrugged. "Like twenty bucks. Or two twinkies." He grinned at his own comment, but Kagome didn't find it very funny.
If anything, Kagome felt pity for him. No matter how bleak her life became, she always managed to find the good in it. If a person couldn't do that… Well, that was a pretty sad way to live. "As much as I would love to hear you divulge all of your secrets, this is a great song and I feel like dancing."
"Look, wench," Inuyasha barked out, his anger palpable. "I'm not looking for your validation. I'm pretty fucking happy with my life of dirty pennies and whiskey bottles. We don't all need to be Barbie."
She looked over at him, the low dim of the bar lights shining off his silver hair, and found she could only nurse one wounded heart at a time. "I just wanted you to leave tonight and think the world is a little less horrible than you thought."
"Hey, pretty lady," Kouga greeted as he appeared at the perfect time with another shot of whiskey for her and a full beer, stealing her full attention away from Inuyasha.
Kagome immediately downed the shot and chased it with her beer, ready to forget half of the night and lose herself in the music pounding through the speakers. As the evening wore on, the bar became busier, and the DJ had started up a round of tunes that had half the customers on the dance floor.
Kouga watched her curiously, arching a brow. "You alright there?"
"Dance with me?" she called over the bass pounding through the speakers. Oh yes, it was now the time of the night in which she had no qualms for asking for what she wanted.
He chuckled and glanced over at the other bartenders who appeared to have things under control. "You can steal me for a few minutes."
Kagome grinned and giggled like a school girl, leaving Inuyasha behind without delay. Kouga met her at the end of the bar and took her hand in his as she pulled him out onto the dance floor.
Some upbeat dance music blasted through the speakers. Kagome moved and swayed through the bodies crowding near the DJ, the vibrations of the music becoming part of her energy, raising her up several levels at once. Gone were her heartbroken wallows and the biting arrogance of her barstool companion. Her mind buzzed with pure joy. She moved in her dress like her hips were made to sway, the black sequins catching the disco ball that twirled above, causing her to glitter on the dance floor.
Kouga pulled her close, his strong hand pressed against the small of her back, his chiseled chest pressed against hers. She ran her fingers through her messy hair and pulled it to the side, feeling the beat of the music pound with each beat of her heart. Bodies pressed in tighter all around them. Kagome felt the part of her that was really her come out to play, to feel the vibe of the music and let her body go free.
"You're beautiful," Kouga's voice whispered in her ear, sending shivers down her spine.
His lips looked soft and very kissable, and Kagome knew her decision-making skills were indeed hindered by the alcohol that buzzed through her veins. And then his attention was caught by something else, his royal blue eyes pulling from hers to the outskirts of the dance floor. He said something to her, attempting to shout above the music, but his words were swallowed up by the electric beat that kept her entranced.
Kagome felt his hands slip from around her waist and he disappeared into the crowd. She didn't bother to follow, her hands playing with her hair, her hips moving to the music as she lost herself within it. This was what her heartbroken soul had fiercely needed; a night to forget all the troubles of the day.
Large, meaty hands found her waist, but they were unfamiliar and too warm to the touch. Kagome felt a warm flush find her cheeks as she gazed up to meet a stranger's hazy stare. He pulled her in close - too close - and even in her alcohol-ridden mind, she felt mild panic begin like sparks in her abdomen.
She tried to push him away, first gently and then forcefully, pretending to laugh at his behavior. "Thanks for the dance, but I need some fresh air."
"C'me on, baby," he slurred, pulling her tighter to his sweaty frame, his hot breath rolling over her skin. "We just met. Let's dance s'me more."
Kagome frowned. "I said no." Before she could stomp on his foot and fight her way out of the throng of dancers, the man was forcefully pulled away from her. They became separated by another man, one with very familiar silver hair who had his back to her. She didn't hear the words exchanged, but whatever was said was enough to send the man scampering off to the other side of the bar.
Inuyasha turned around, his piercing honey eyes studying her expression, before his hand gently wrapped around her waist. His grip on her wasn't strong like Kouga's, or possessive like the stranger. Inuyasha's hand was warm against the small of her back, and the anxiety she felt moments ago melted away.
"You okay?" he asked, swaying his hips in tune with hers as they continued to dance to the beat of the music.
She grinned up at him. "Were you worried about me, jerk?"
"Keh," he grumbled, his lips pulling into a smirk. "I despise you more than any other human I've ever had the displeasure of meeting. You're loud and wild and apparently have no sense of self-preservation. You also act like you have the mental capacity of a five year old."
"Are you flirting with me?" she barbed in return.
"Maybe."
His hand found the back of her neck, his fingers finding purchase in her hair, his hips grinding against hers. Warmth pooled into the pit of her stomach, his breath caressing her skin, and she moved her lips to find his.
Kagome barely had a moment to react before he pressed his tongue to the seam of her lips and delved inside her mouth. It was a very sloppy kiss with the strong scent of beer being exchanged between their billowing breaths. Her arm reached up and tangled around his strong neck. She pulled away and arched up into his broad chest, letting a moan escape in the contact of body heat against her own, before she drew back into his lips.
She could nearly taste the slight bitterness of the beer as it rolled off her tongue and seeped down her throat with every push of his tongue against hers. The kiss coupled with the beer and whiskey humming through her system obliterated every thought. For the first time that day, her mind was locked into the present. Her usual concerns for her life were suspended, and she had no wish for the kiss to end.
But as the music changed, they pulled apart. Inuyasha's skin shimmered with sweat and his amber eyes flecked with gold held her gaze. The beat of the music consumed them under the crazy neon lights, and Kagome felt alive during a night that was still so young.
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nonstoplover · 3 years
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happily ending catastrophies ~ Fred Weasley
summary: Fred is accidentally (and fortunately) at the right place in the right time, and is able to save a muggle girl's life.
pairing: Fred Weasley x muggle (female) reader
words: 5K
meaning of: (y/h/c) means 'your hair colour'
(kinda) warnings: (1) this plays after the war and Fred lives, because i refuse to accept anything else; (2) i'm not from the UK so excuse the possible mistakes i made about the underground; (3) also there are a couple time jumps, i didn't want to drag it for too long and had quite a few ideas i wanted to write
a/n: this was an idea born whilst i was studying for this year's most difficult exam at uni lol but i thought it was worth giving a shot so here it goes xx
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(y/n) wakes up to the sweet scent of some kind of flower filling up her nose and lungs. Despite the panging in her head she cracks her eyes open to find the source, though as soon as she takes in the totally unfamiliar room around her, the flower immediately gets forgotten.
What the hell?
She frowns, pushing her upper body up on her elbows to get a better look around. She has never seen this room ever before. Or has she? Suddenly she's not so sure as a foggy memory appears in her mind. Her glance travels across the cardboard boxes beside the wall on the floor, piled high on top of each other, then a desk, a wardrobe, arriving to the bedside table that has a lamp and several strange things - looking like some foreign country's small candies in colourful wrapping - on the wooden surface.
Sitting up fully she tries to move her legs to place them on the floor, but finds that it's much harder than it usually is - than it should be. All her attention turn to her legs now and the weird feeling that surrounds her left leg she hasn't noticed before. Carefully she lifts the covers that wrapped her body in a warm embrace to see what's wrong with her leg. A gasp leaves her lungs right away as her eyes fall on the cast wrapped around it from her knees straight to her toes.
In that exact moment the door slowly opens and her eyes snap towards the entering figure - a flaming red haired young man - whilst her fingers scramble to get the blanket back on her lower body, hiding the lack of clothing she's wearing as she's in nothing else but her underwear.
"Ah, you're awake! How are you?" He asks when his eyes connect with hers and slightly widen.
And his voice brings back everything. Literally everything to her mind about how she got here, all the memories flashing by in front of her inner eyes.
- - - - - - - flashback - - - - - - -
Friday the 13th. The day of misfortune and disasters. (y/n) huffs as she makes her way down the street towards the underground station to go back to her apartment. Now she knows this fact from experience.
She woke up a bit late that morning and didn't have time to drink her usual morning coffee in the comfort of her home, so she had to wait until her first break at work to drink one. When she just finished brewing a cup for herself in the small kitchen at her work, the handle of her favourite mug she kept in there broke and the now handle-less mug full of the brown beverage fell to the ground and shattered to a thousand tiny pieces, and if it wasn't already bad enough, the coffee splashed on her white shirt, colouring it light brown and leaving a wet stain behind all across her chest.
After that she managed to get through the day quite normally, right until 3pm, when her boss called her in to his office.
"The company is facing a hard time," his voice still echoes inside her head, making her shiver in sadness and anger. "I'm sorry, (y/n), the performance you showed us in the past two years was truly great, but you gotta understand that I have to decrease the number of employees. And that unfortunately includes you. I'm sorry."
If the way she worked was actually 'truly great', then why do they fire her and not someone else?
Well, probably her boss told the exact same thing to everyone he kicked out today, she thinks, but it doesn't help at all - it doesn't get her her job back.
So half an hour ago she packed everything in a box and set off to go back home, mentally raging about the cursed day. She has never believed in any superstition like this, but today she's changed her mind. Maybe all these things are true.
And that's when the next string of catastrophies starts.
As she's moving along the pavement next to the tracks at the station, the heel of her shoe breaks and she stumbles, her box flying away from her grip, all the contents of it scattering all over the ground. (y/n) tries gaining her balance back, taking a couple steps back, but the pavement disappears from under her feet as she reaches the edge, completely unaware of it.
She falls back, down to the tracks, and an impossible pain shoots up from her left leg as she lands, the air totally knocked out from her lungs. As she tries catching her breath, her hands move to lay flat on the ground so she can push herself up, but the world around her seems like it's spinning and she feels too weak to move a single muscle in her body.
Everything decelerates into slow motion and she glances around to see what she could do when something bright catch her eyes. A shiny warm yellow circle in the distance, getting slightly bigger and bigger with every second. She observes it carefully, thinking about how pretty it looks as she wonders what it might be. It only takes a second or two for her mind to catch up and suddenly she's more than aware that a train comes towards her and she's not capable to do anything to stop the collision from happening.
Friday the 13th.
Out of nowhere she feels a presence next to her, and just as she turns her head that way to see what's going on and her eyes fall on locks of bright red hair and a freckled face, the man has already grabbed her arm and with a fierce pull hoisted her up to a standing position. It feels like her arm is ripped out from her body, for a moment even the unstoppable hurting from her leg fades out to give space for the one in her upper body and she gasps before everything goes black.
- - - - - - - end of flashback - - - - - - -
The following events go by as a dozen of blurry pictures (y/n) can't make out in her mind and she blinks a couple times to get back to the present, to reality. She focuses on the redhead again, the last person she clearly remembers seeing.
"Where am I?" Her voice comes out hoarse and quiet and she clears her throat, waiting for his answer, knowing how she behaves quite rude completely ignoring his question, but she just can't help it.
She hasn't a clue where they could be, she's never seen a place like this in her entire life. It's obvious it's not a hospital. And after what happened it's just as obvious that she needs hospital treatment.
"The Burrow," he replies with a small smile playing on his lips.
And though she thought his answer would help clear some of the fog inside her head, it only confuses her more. Fred bites back the chuckle that threatens to burst from him seeing her cute frowning expression and waits for her to ask again, knowing it'll soon happen.
"The what?" The girl speaks up again, her voice now much clearer.
"My family home."
The confusion still stays on her face, and Fred truly can't blame her for it - who wouldn't be distraught after waking up in a stranger's home? Still, seeing the same expression he first ever saw on her face brings him back to the Tube station in London.
- - - - - - - Fred's flashback - - - - - - -
He's rushing down the stairs to catch the apparently soon arriving underground train, cursing his twin brother under his breath for winning the bet that resulted in the usage of any and every magical thing being forbidden for Fred for this whole week. Now he has to run errands adjusting to the timetables of muggle public transport and he's running out of time. Everything takes so much more time in the muggle world, and in the past few days he's grown to appreciate being born into the world of magic more than ever.
Arriving next to the tracks he catches sight of a dozen or so people there and relief fills his body. So the train hasn't left yet. He slows down to a walking pace and tries to catch his breath, and that's when he notices something weird about the people, something he has never seen in the past days when he used the Tube. They're all moving closer to each other, slowly making a tight circle, all of them looking in the same direction, as if something was on the tracks.
Curiosity rises in Fred and he makes his way to the edge of the crowd, standing on his toes to tower over it and glance down. His eyes immediately fall on a young woman lying there, one of her legs twisted in an abnormal way. She's looking to the side, towards the tunnel from where the train should arrive any minute now. Her expression displays confusion and slight fear, but her breathtaking beauty is still obvious, and it makes his heart skip a beat. His eyes slowly turn to where she's looking and he can see the light that swiftly grows brighter and brighter inside the usually dark tunnel, but his mind can't comprehend what he sees as all his thoughts are still only about the gorgeous woman lying there.
"The train's coming!" Somebody in the crowd shouts and that's what wakes Fred from his daze. His head snaps back and forth from the tunnel to the girl a couple times, so fast it's a miracle his neck doesn't break.
His body moves before he can fully think about his actions and suddenly he's pushing people away to make a path for himself in the crowd and he jumps down to the tracks. He hears a couple gasps from behind him, even a couple voices trying to inform him again and again that the train is actually soon there, but he doesn't care. All he focuses on is the task in front of him.
Squatting down he grabs one of the woman's arms and drapes it around his shoulder, standing up again as fast as he can, pulling her with him a bit harsher than he intended. She lets out a gasp in obvious pain, but he knows there's no time to be more gentle. Both of his arms move around her, one around her shoulder blades and one around the backs of her thighs to lift her up bridal style as he knows one of her legs is broken and she can't stand on it. And he's thankful for his own speed and thoughtful actions as he feels her body go limp as she faints.
The head-splittingly loud sound of a horn fills the air just as he turns around, signalling that they were noticed by the people on the train. As he takes the first few steps back towards the pavement he glances up, seeing two or three men already there bending down with their arms stretching in his direction. Fred quickens his pace as much as he's able to and practically throws the woman in the waiting hands, helping them pull her up by pushing her body from under, the screeching of brakes, iron on iron being the only sound that can be heard.
He stays on the tracks until he's completely sure that she's safe, than he grabs the edge of the pavement and swiftly pushes himself up, crawling on the cold surface until his legs are lying there as well. He feels a breeze moving against his back as the train arrives to the station, but he doesn't care about it, neither the cheering that erupts from the people around him, celebrating his heroic act, not even the burning feeling in his muscles from being strained. He just pushes himself up and stumbles to the woman, falling back down on his knees to be able to get a better look of her.
From up close he can see how she's even younger than he has thought, probably close to his age. She's obviously falling in and out of unconsciousness every other second. The word 'ambulance' enters his ears from the people around them, and he finds himself with a new task ahead of him. Somehow he has to get the girl away from this place and back to the shop so he can take her to the Burrow. Muggle hospital treatment isn't enough now, the wizarding world offered much better methods of healing. His mother will know what to do.
- - - - - - - end of Fred's flashback - - - - - - -
"And why am I here?" (y/n) continues asking.
"You broke your leg."
"Yeah, I figured, but shouldn't I be in a hospital then?" She tilts her head, raising an eyebrow.
"This is better than a muggle hospital," the young man shrugs.
"Mu... a what?"
"Ah, sorry. Slipped out," he let out a small chuckle, scratching the back of his neck in slight embarrassment.
Here comes the moment he dreaded. When he has to explain the existence of magic and the wizarding world to a completely clueless person and trying to do that without making a complete fool out of himself in front of the angel-like girl when she won't believe him - which he's sure she'll do.
"Wait, who are you? I don't even know your name," she speaks up again. "And how could I truly thank you for saving my life if I don't know even that?"
"There's no need to thank me," Fred protests.
"Of course there is!" (y/n) squeals as loudly as her weakened state allows. "Not everyone would jump down to the tracks when there's a train coming to save a complete stranger."
"Yeah, well, true," he mumbles, thinking back to how nobody did anything for her, anger filling his veins. Then he clears his throat, shaking his head to get rid of the negative thoughts and to focus on the girl again. "I'm Fred. Fred Weasley."
"Thank you for all you did, Fred. I'm (y/n) (y/l/n)," she sticks her hand out and a smile makes it's way to Fred face, matching the one on hers as he steps closer to shake her hand.
- - - - - - - 2 months later - - - - - - -
"I'm absolutely fine, Freddie, stop acting like I'm made of porcelain. I'm totally able to walk down the stairs on my own two feet," (y/n)'s giggling voice fills the air on the second floor of the Burrow when the redhead gently pulled her arm around his neck as he's done so many times in the past weeks.
"Alright, alright, I get it," Fred puts his hands up in surrender, backing away as laughter erupts from his throat and he turns his head away to hide the blush forming on his cheeks from the nickname she used.
Unfortunately he only gets completely face to face with his smirking twin brother who winks his way before pushing past him, a knowing chuckle sounding from him as he rushes downstairs, past (y/n), who follows him right away, only a bit slower, with Fred's careful, watching eyes trained on her back.
"See? I told you," the girl glances back at him over her shoulder after arriving downstairs, not stopping on her way to the dining table, only to stumble in a shoe someone left in the way. Fred immediately reaches out to grab her elbow and stop her from falling. From the strength of his attentive pull on her arm, instead of flying to the ground she crashes into his chest.
"I don't know, I'm not so sure," he teases, looking down with a smirk playing on his lips.
(y/n) moves her head up to connect her eyes with his, and Fred glances around her face, taking in the pink colour of her skin on her cheeks caused by the embarrassment of almost falling, then as his eyes reach the sight of her lips, he suddenly becomes almost too aware of how close the two of them actually are, and the breath hitches in his throat.
"Come on, kids, dinner's gonna get cold!" Molly's voice breaks the moment they shared and (y/n) regains balance, then gently pushing the boy away she turns around and limps the rest of the way to the dining table.
All of the Weasleys are already sitting there, watching the two of them appear in sight, and (y/n) has to bite back a giggle, still not used to the seemingly infinite number of redheads, all smiling wide and sweet at her. George pulls the chair she has always sat on ever since she was able to get downstairs out for her, offering a helping hand knowing that it's harder to sit down with only one properly working leg. Fred reaches out for her other arm just as she makes contact with George's hand, and the two of them don't let go until she's stopped moving.
She glances back and forth between the two boys sitting on either side of her, rolling her eyes at how overly protective both of them behave, when she's already told them hundreds of times that she's able to get by on her own.
The meal is delicious and the company is entertaining, just like it has always been since (y/n) stepped foot into the Burrow. Conversation flows without a hitch, only the occasional laughter breaking it for a second or two, and the (y/h/c) girl finds it hard to think about the inevitable - the moment that's coming fast, the moment when she has to leave these people and go back to her normal life. The Weasleys has become like a second family for her, and she fears that if she walks out that door, she'll never see them again. They're living a different life, in a completely different world. Their paths most likely will never cross again. She tries to brush off the sad thoughts, knowing that she'll have all the time to mope and grieve when she's back in her (ordinary and plain) flat on her own.
As she's helping Molly clean the dishes after the family finishes dinner, (y/n) pauses for a moment to glance at the redhaired woman. "Thank you for letting me stay here and for taking such good care of me."
"Oh, sweetie, you're more than welcome. It's our pleasure to have you here."
"That's true," Ginny chimes in with a joyful grin on her face as she places another dirty plate in front of her mother. "Your presence brightened up our boring lives."
"Boring?" (y/n) lets a loud laugh escape her throat. "Your lives are nothing even close to boring. Everything around here is breathtaking and spectacular."
"Is it though?"
"Try living my life for a week or so, and you'll know what boring really means," she shakes her head, the different memories and thoughts swiftly filling her mind as she turns around to lean the small of her back against the counter top, her eyes instantly connecting with Fred's, who's still sitting at the table, shamelessly watching her with searching eyes.
"I still can't believe there's a whole world of wizards and witches that we have absolutely no clue about. It makes me wonder how many things are there that's hidden from us. And it makes me scared how clueless we all are in the muggle world."
(y/n)'s only able to stand the intensity of his gaze for a couple seconds before she has to turn her head away, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks and heat them up. She swallows, only hoping that it stays unnoticed by the boy, but when she finally dares to glance back for the shortest of moments, she catches sight of a small smirk playing on his lips and she knows that nothing has gone unnoticed by him. Clearing her throat she tries to find something else to say, speaking the first words that come to her mind.
The newly learned word still rolls uncertainly from her tongue, not sure if she says it correctly, but when her restlessly moving eyes accidentally catch Fred's again, she sees a new kind of glint sparkling in his eyes, and it's enough to let her know that she used it correctly.
"It's not your fault," Ginny places a hand probably destined to be reassuring on the older girl's shoulder. "We're just too good at hiding it."
The two of them share a laugh, and unbeknownst to (y/n), it turns the shape of Fred's eyes into something that very much resembles a heart. His own heart flutters at the sound, the temperature of the room suddenly feeling too hot for him to bear, and he abruptly kicks his chair back, standing up and swiftly moving out of the house to get some fresh air and somehow try to cool the fire that's burning inside of his chest.
(y/n)'s eyes follow him, an eyebrow raised in question, deep in her thoughts right until the door closes shut again behind the boy. The sudden noise brings her back to the present and she shakes her head to get rid of the things running around in her head.
"Anyway, I gotta go upstairs and pack. I really have to go back home now," she sighs, pushing her body away from the counter.
"I'll come help you," Ginny immediately offers, hurrying after her.
Two and a half hours and a heart wrenching goodbye later (y/n) and Fred come to a stop outside her apartment's door, both of them feeling a previously never felt sadness fill their hearts.
All (y/n) can think of is flashing images of the flaming red haired boy. The way he sat at the edge of the bed she was lying in, telling her everything about the wizarding world. The way he lifted her up so effortlessly as if she weighed nothing to bring her downstairs when she was unable to walk in the first weeks. The way he walked her around the house and the garden, showing her everything and explaining things to her, adjusting to her extremely slow pace without a word. The way he showed her multiple of the products he and his twin brother sell in their shop, sometimes only speaking of their effects, other times even showing her, not caring with the fact it caused something inconvenient for himself as long as he made her laugh - which she did so many times and so hard that it made her sides hurt. The clothes he let her have when winter set in and her own became too thin to keep her warm, and the way the material smelled like him. The lingering touches of his calloused fingertips against the skin of her cheeks when he thought she was fast asleep - when in fact she was completely awake, fighting back the urge to press her face further into his touch.
In the meantime all Fred can think of is flashing images of the gorgeous muggle girl. The genuine curiosity that sparkled in her eyes whenever he told her about the world he's living in, the endless amount of questions she's asked him about anything and everything, the pure interest she showed from the first time he told her about the existence of magic. The way she bonded with each and every member of the Weasley family, finding a common thing with all of them and eventually making them all grow fond of her. The way she told him all about the muggle world and her own life, sharing all the details with him without hesitation - trusting him right away. The way his name rolled from her tongue - even more when she called him Freddie. The bubbling, loud laughter that erupted from her throat when he told her about the shop and all the pranks George and him did back in Hogwarts or when he showed her the products they now sell in the shop, the laugh that always made his heart skip a beat, the laugh he couldn't help but adore along with the fact that she seemingly didn't care the slightest bit how loud she is or how funny her laughter might sound. The way she looked in his clothes, always taking his breath away, making him wish nothing more in the rest of his life than to see that very sight every day as long as he lived - and possibly even after that.
"Well, thanks for getting me home," (y/n) points at the door behind her back as she looks up into his mesmerizing eyes. "And for jumping down in front of a train for me. And for letting me into your family home. And for taking care of me."
"It was the least I could do," Fred smiles sheepishly, his mind spinning, trying to come up with something to say that would keep the girl in his life.
"Bye, Freddie," she hesitates for a moment, then decides it doesn't matter anymore and leans in, pressing a soft kiss on his left cheek.
Fred's eyes flutter closed, heart bursting with the sudden feeling of love from both her lips touching his skin and the oh so loved nickname. He freezes, unable to think anything else than eight very important letters.
The girl moves back, fiddling with her keys to find the correct one, pushing it in the slot and turning it, gently shoving the door until it's wide open. She steps in, her eyes taking in the furniture and decoration she once loved but now finds unbelievably plain and mundane. A sigh escapes her lungs and she turns around to close the door - and wave once more the boy.
Fred still stands in the exact same spot, obviously not moving even the slightest bit since she backed away from him. (y/n) raises her hand to wiggle goodbye with her fingers at him whilst moving to close the door with the other hand, already feeling the tears blur her vision as she tries to take in the sight of him as best as she can to be able to remember him forever.
"Wait!" Fred exclaims, placing a palm flat against the wooden material to stop it before it fully closes.
This time (y/n)'s the one to freeze, hand pausing high in the air and she even holds back the breath in her lungs as she waits for him to continue.
"Can we meet again?"
Her eyes widen in surprise. She always thought that he'd never want to see her again. That he'd be happy to finally get rid of her and be able to continue his life as before. He wants to meet with her again?
"I... y-yes, of course," she stutters, heart stammering inside her ribcage so wild and loud, she's almost sure he can hear it.
The extremely wide smile that splits his face in two hearing her answer makes it impossible for her not to mirror it, her own lips curving on their own accord. Fred, feeling the previous nervous shyness evaporate from his body and the always present confidence fill his vein up again, takes a step closer to her, then another until he's right beside the door, gently pushing it wider open again. (y/n)'s hand on the door handle inside goes limp, and she lets it fall down to hang loose beside her body as Fred steps inside.
When he's so close that she can feel the breath coming from his nose reach the skin of her face, his lips open again to let out a whisper. "Can I kiss you?"
The already abnormal rhythm her heart beats in gets even more uneven, and her head moves in a nod as she breathes out the word 'yes'. Fred's eyes sparkle up even more, and his hands slowly start moving up, one reaching out to gently caress her cheek whilst the other wraps around the small of her back. Slowly, extremely slowly he leans down, pausing for a second just before their lips could touch, and as a wave of impatience rushes through the girl, she raises her head and presses her lips against his.
Fred lets out a muffled chuckle at her eagerness before tilting his head and snaking his arm further around her torso to pull her flush against his own body, his hand that's resting on her cheeks moving slightly further back until his fingers completely disappear in her (y/h/c) locks, his lips moving passionately against hers.
She completely melts into his touch, feeling like she's floating in the air, as if she's only dreaming. But when they both run out of oxygen and pull away to fill their lungs again, their foreheads pressing against each other in search of support and their eyes connecting without problem, looking deep into his beautiful brown orbs (y/n) grows sure right away that it's truly reality, not just a dream.
"I love you," he breathes in-between his quiet pants, but it's enough to make (y/n) totally dizzy as a love-struck grin spreads across her face.
And in that very moment they both know that their story is just starting.
.::the end::.
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nerdythebard · 3 years
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#12: The Doctor [Doctor Who]
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Brother, I disown you...
I don't know what my friend/chosen brother was thinking when he made this request... Actually, no, I know exactly what he was thinking! Well, no time to dawdle, let's do this Time Warp. Again.
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Next Time: Before we return to the gods, I want to make a character very close to my heart. He is also a Doctor... only, word of warning, he's a little... Strange.
Well then... sigh, let's see the goals we need to meet to make the most brilliant alien in television playable in D&D:
Heroes Never Die: The signature ability of a Time Lord (and the most problematic), a way to cheat death and return to life. Yes, somehow we need to make a virtually immortal character in Dungeons & Dragons...
Bunny-Ears Lawyer: Even in his relatively serious regenerations, the Doctor is prone to flashes of randomness, acts of nonsense, mixing puns and physical comedy to often hide the incredibly fast and advanced brain processes.
Go-Go Gadget Galore: Do I even need to say anything? Besides his trusty TARDIS (which will not be included here, we're making the Doctor, not his equipment!), the Doctor also brandishes sonic devices of multiple varieties, psychic paper, the thing that goes DING, etc.
---
As you can imagine, finding the right race replacement for Time Lords wasn't easy. I'm definitely not using The-Movie-That-Does-Not-Exist solution, and making the Doctor... half-human, urgh. All we need to do is find a humanoid, almost-fossil race that can come back from death a limited amount of times.
The Doctor is a Human Revenant, a playtest race from Unearthed Arcana: Gothic Heroes. In-game, Revenant is an undead that came back to life to pursue a certain goal, whether it's vengeance, retribution, or to make amends. Putting some flavour into it, and turning it into a long-living, mysterious being who perhaps came from the Astral Plane to search for a way to save his home planet... why not? Regular Revenants get only a +1 to Constitution, but if we're using pre-existing race (such as Human), there's another set of rules. So, we get a +1 Constitution and +1 Intelligence, and we don't get to pick a skill or a feat. Not yet.
What's most important here is the Revenant's Relentless Nature feature. We are assigned a goal, a very specific one, that we must complete in order to achieve peace. Work with your DM on that one (the saving-your-home-world one from before sounds like a good start). Until we complete the goal:
If we are below Hit Points Maximum, at the start of our turn we regain 1 Hit Point;
We know the distance and direction to any creature involved in our goal (perhaps a fellow, once-friend Time Lord?);
When we die, we come back to life within 24 hours with 1 Hit Point. If our body is destroyed, we come back in a spot within 1 mile of our place of death (unfortunately, our equipment is destroyed);
BOOM! JUST FLAVOUR EACH DEATH AS A CHANGE OF FACE AND PERSONALITY, AND WE HAVE THE REGENERATION SYSTEM! HAH! YOU SEE THAT, BROTHER!?
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Ekhm... back to work, then.
The Doctor is pretty far from home, so giving him the Far Traveller background seems like the right approach. We gain proficiencies in Insight and Perception skills, proficiencies with one musical instrument (perhaps a recorder?)/gaming set, we learn one language of our choice, and we get the All Eyes on You feature; our mannerisms and quirks definitely draw attention towards us and our group, but we can take advantage of that in order to fish for some information, secure an audience with the local nobleman, or... I dunno, snog Madame de Pompadour?
ABILITY SCORES
No surprise there, we start with Intelligence. We have a literal Big Galaxy Brain™ and we use it often, and only sometimes to show off. Follow that up with Dexterity, we're nimble and we're doing a lot of running, especially when being chased (plus, we've invented the Drunken Giraffe dance). Constitution is next, the Gallifreyan biology is significantly superior to that of regular Terrans.
Next up, Charisma. It usually works, sometimes it doesn't, but even then we're kinda adorkable. Wisdom is a little low, I think we all shall agree to that, the Doctor is a creature of whim. He gets lost in thought, has a hard time remembering to explain his logic to others. Finally, we're dumping Strength. Now, we're definitely physically stronger than humans, I just don't remember any particular feats of super-strength in the show.
Heck, you want even more Time Lord shenanigans? Ask your DM to implement the "every death/regeneration makes all ability scores randomly switch places" rule.
CLASS
Level 1 - Artificer: Once again, nobody is surprised we begin with the Smart & Techy One™ for the Doctor. Artificers were brought to 5e via Tasha's Cauldron of Everything. These magical tinkers have d8 Hit Dice, [8 + Constitution modifier] initial Hit Points, proficiencies with light armour, medium armour, heavy armour, shields, simple weapons, and optionally firearms (although that's definitely not the Doctor's style). We additionally get proficiency with thieves' tools, tinker's tools, and one set of artisan's tools we choose. We can't get the sonic screwdriver (although if you want one, hint to your DM about the existence of the All-Purpose Tool), we have all these tools to replace it with. Our saving throws are Constitution and Intelligence, and we get to pick two class skills: let's get History and Investigation.
Artificers start with Magical Tinkering, an ability to bestow harmless magical properties onto inanimate objects. We choose a Tiny object with no magic in it, and grant it one of the following properties indefinitely:
It sheds bright light for 5 feet and dim light for an additional 5;
Whenever tapped, the object plays a recorded message no longer than six seconds;
The object continuously emits a smell or a sound of our choice;
A static image (picture, lines of text, shapes, etc.) appear on the object's surface.
Artificers are also casters, so at the first level, we get Spellcasting. Our casting ability is, of course, Intelligence and the number of spells we can prepare is equal to [our Intelligence modifier + half of our Artificer level rounded down]. We also know how to cast rituals.
We start with two cantrips:
Magic Stone lets us imbue three pebbles with magic (or perhaps, in this case, kinetic energy?) for 1 minute. We can then use the pebbles ourselves, or give them to somebody else. On a successful hit, the target suffers [1d6 + our Intelligence modifier] bludgeoning damage and the spell ends on that particular pebble.
Prestidigitation is a cantrip of plenty varieties, which very well could be disguised as the Doctor's tinkering with his sonic screwdriver. It can be used to warm or chill food, clean or soil objects, or perhaps lighting and snuffing our small flames.
We start with two 1st-level spell slots, and we get three 1st-level spells:
Alarm sets up a secured perimeter, no larger than a 20-feet cube, for 8 hours. Whenever a create not-designated as safe while setting the spell, crosses its boundary, we get a signal informing us about the intrusion, which also wakes us up if we're sleeping. The signal can be set to inform only us, or everybody around.
Detect Magic informs us of any magical activity within 30 feet of us for 10 minutes (concentration). We sense magic lingering on objects, people, as well as locations, and we can determine the type of magic present (but not a particular spell, for example, we sense that a spell on the object is enchantment-type, but not that it's Power Word: Kill).
Identify is... pretty much the one function of the sonic screwdriver we've all seen. It lets us learn about an object we choose, including its magical properties (if any) and if it's affected by any spells. And it works on wood!
With a spell list like that, we can safely say
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Level 2 - Artificer: We continue with the Tech Savvy Class, and we learn the Artificer's signature skill, Infuse Item. It lets us bestow magical properties onto mundane items. Similarly to Warlock's Invocations, Artificers have Infusions they can select and put into items. Starting from this level, we can infuse two items at once, and we get to pick four Infusions from the list. For the Doctor, let's pick:
Replicate Magic Item: Bag of Holding is probably the most useful infusion in the early game. The infusion does exactly what it says, and a Bag of Holding is always a good item to own (just watch out for the Bag Man!)
Enhanced Defence infusion puts some extra protection (+1 to AC) onto an armour or a shield.
Mind Sharpener is a helping hand for any spellcaster. The infusion put onto an armour, or woven into a robe, sends a jolt to re-focus the mind. When the wearer fails a Constitution saving throw to keep their concentration, one charge (out of four) of the infusion expends, to make them succeed instead. The charges are refilled at dawn.
Returning Weapon gives a +1 to attack and damage rolls of the weapon it's applied on and makes it return to the wielder's hand immediately after it's used to make a ranged attack. With the keyword "immediately", it gives your Rangers and other bow-users infinite ammunition with just one arrow.
We can also get one more 1st-level spell: Disguise Self changes our appearance for 1 hour, or until we choose to dismiss it as an action. The spell affects our body, clothing, and items we carry (including weapons). It is not a physical disguise, just an illusion woven around us; if we make ourselves thinner than we really are, and somebody was to touch the space where our regular body would be, they're going to feel the body, albeit invisible. For the Doctor, this seems like a combination of psychic paper and the Chameleon Circuit.
Level 3 - Artificer: At this level, we get the Right Tool for the Job feature. If we have thieves' tools or artisan's tools in hand, we can create any other set of artisan's tools.
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We also get to pick our subclass, our Artificer Specialization. The Doctor is no alchemist, and we'll probably build Tony Stark at some time in the future, therefore we're picking Battle Smith. Those tinkers are masters of protections, being able to put up defensive mechanisms on the spot. Since the Doctor is a diplomat first, runner second, and combatant very close and reluctant third, focusing on support is a good option.
As a Battle Smith, we gain proficiencies with smith's tools, and we gain some more magic with Battle Smith Spells:
Heroism imbues the willing creature with bravery. Until the spell ends (1 minute, concentration), the target is immune to being frightened and gains Temporary Hit Points equal to our Intelligence modifier at the start of each of their turns (AKA every six seconds). When the spell ends, any Temporary Hit Points remaining are lost.
Shield creates an invisible barrier as a reaction to getting hit. It adds +5 to our AC until the start of our next turn.
Although a reluctant fighter, the Doctor as a Battle Smith also gets the Battle Ready feature. We gain proficiency with martial weapons, and when we attack with a magic weapon, we can use our Intelligence modifier instead of Strength or Dexterity for attack and damage rolls.
Finally, Battle Smiths get the Steel Defender. With our tinkering, we create our first companion, a steel defender; it is friendly to us and our companions and obeys our commands. With that, we got ourselves the one and only K9
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Level 4 - Artificer: At this level, we get our first Ability Score Improvement! However, instead of upgrading our abilities this time, we'll grab a feat. The Telepathic feat from Tasha's Cauldron of Everything will represent the Doctor's limited psychic abilities: we increase one of our non-physical abilities by 1, let's go for Intelligence. We can speak telepathically to any creature within 60 feet, but the creature cannot reply (unless they're telepathic too, of course). Finally, we can touch a Detect Thoughts spell once per long rest, without a need to expend spell slots. Give your target a good headbutt, and learn their surface thoughts.
We also get our final spell: Catapult turns one inanimate object that isn't worn or carried (and weighs from 1 to 5 pounds) and turns it into a remote projectile. The object flies in a straight line for 90 feet before losing its momentum and falling. If it hits a creature, they have to make a Dexterity saving throw or take 3d8 bludgeoning damage. Distract your pursuers with a head of cabbage flying at their heads.
Level 5 - Rogue: We say goodbye to the Artificer, as we move onto Rogue for the rest of the build. Rogues use the same Hit Dice as Artificers, so nothing really changes when it comes to our Hit Points. We already have proficiency with light armour and thieves' tools, but we can pick one class skill – let's pick Acrobatics for better running and parkour chances when escaping aliens and responsibilities.
Rogues start with Expertise, which lets us double our proficiency bonus (NOT ability modifier) for two skills of our choice: let's boost Insight and History, to best utilize our centuries of living. We also learn how to speak Thieves' Cant, a special system of phrases and signals used by other Rogues to communicate without revealing their secrets. Finally, we have Sneak Attack: once per turn we can add 1d6 extra damage if a) we have an advantage on our roll, or b) the target is within 5 feet of another creature hostile towards it. The attack must be done by either a ranged weapon or one with the finesse property (like a dagger or a rapier).
Level 6 - Rogue: We get Cunning Action, which let us turn some Actions we can do in combat into Bonus Actions. That way, we still have an Action to spare if we decide to use Dash, Disengage, or Hide. Considering how much running the Doctor does, it's good to have something else to do just in case.
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Level 7 - Rogue: Our Sneak Attack changes to 2d6.
We also get to pick our second subclass, our Roguish Archetype. Now, initially, I considered going Swashbuckler, as it combines nimble footwork and gives us some charm abilities. However, since we're going with the build that emphasizes support and actual combat as a last resort, we'll go with Inquisitive.
We start this subclass with Ear for Deceit, whenever we roll Insight checks to determine if a creature is lying to us, we treat each roll of 7 or lower as 8.
We also get Eye for Detail. This is mostly to be used in combat (or if your DM runs dungeons in Initiative Mode), as it allows us to use Perception or Investigation checks as a bonus action, where it would normally take an action.
Finally, Inquisitive Rogues get Insightful Fighting. As a bonus action, we can make an Insight check, contested by the enemy's Deception check. If we succeed, for 1 minute we can use our Sneak Attack on the target even if we don't have an advantage or the target isn't near another of its enemies.
Level 8 - Rogue: Time for another ASI! Let's raise our Intelligence by 1 point, and use the spare one for Strength.
Level 9 - Rogue: Our Sneak Attack changes to 3d6.
We also get Uncanny Dodge. Whenever we're being hit by an attack, we can use our reaction to halve the damage dealt.
Level 10 - Rogue: Halfway through the build, and we get another shot at Expertise. Once again, we get two skills to which we can double our proficiency bonus. Let's go with Perception and Investigation.
Level 11 - Rogue: Our Sneak Attack becomes 4d6.
We also get one of the better abilities in the game, Evasion. If we're being targeted by an AoE attack that would deal half damage on a successful Dexterity saving throw, we take no damage if we make the save. What that means is, we can now take a Fireball face-on, shrug it off and loudly proclaim
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Level 12 - Rogue: We get another ASI. Let's improve our Dexterity by two points this time.
Level 13 - Rogue: Our Sneak Attack becomes 5d6.
We also get another subclass feature. Steady Eye gives us an advantage on Perception or Investigation checks if we move no more than half of our movement speed on our turn.
Level 14 - Rogue: Time for another ASI. Let's focus on getting some more Hit Points this time, and get +2 points to Constitution.
Level 15 - Rogue: Our Sneak Attack becomes 6d6.
At this level, we get Reliable Talent, which upgrades our abilities to almost anime protagonist-level. Whenever we make a check for a skill we're proficient in, we treat all rolls of 9 and lower as 10.
Level 16 - Rogue: We're getting one more ASI. Let's raise our Dexterity again, putting 2 points in it.
Level 17 - Rogue: Our Sneak Attack becomes 7d6.
We get our final subclass upgrade for this build, the Unerring Eye. We can now sense illusions and magical tricks within 30 feet, as well as shapechangers not in their original form. We can detect there is an effect trying to trick our senses around us, but we don't know its nature (i.e. if we meet a creature that activates our sense, we cannot distinguish whether it's a Disguise Self spell, or a natural shapeshifting ability, or a Druid's Wild Shape).
Level 18 - Rogue: We get another one of the best abilities in the game, Blindsense. We can now detect the presence of invisible and hidden creatures within 10 feet radius of us.
Level 19 - Rogue: Our Sneak Attack becomes 8d6.
Our mind becomes more slippery with Slippery Mind. We gain proficiency in Wisdom saving throws.
Level 20 - Rogue: Our build's capstone is Rogue 16, which is also our final ASI. Let's finally cap Intelligence, as it should've been from the start when it comes to Time Lords.
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There it is. My take on how to play as the Doctor in Dungeons & Dragons. I believe I've covered most if not all of the important features the Doctor has, but let's see:
Let's face it, we're not a frontline fighter... we're not even a backline fighter. We support. With 14 AC (without armour), 151 Hit Points on average, and a +4 to Initiative, our job is to manoeuvre, around the battlefield and let our friends take care of the enemy, while we do other things. With Reliable Talent and Expertise we are great at sweeping the room for clues and hints, even if in the heat of battle. Thanks to Unerring Eye and Blindsense, our senses aren't that easy to fool.
Unfortunately, our Strength is not great, and that means some weapons are just a hindrance (unless we pick a finesse weapon, which replaces Strength with Dexterity). While we have late-game proficiency in Wisdom saving throws, throughout the earlier stages those might prove a little problem.
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And that is it for this build. I hope that you guys enjoyed it, and I'll see you for the next one!
- Nerdy out!
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peach-the-owl · 3 years
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Exu crew and an artificer kid? The crew enters the kids home town and they don't seem that happy about it but doesn't say anything, everyone goes different ways to shop/explore/etc and while everyone goes their own ways the kids old bullies pull them into an alleyway and just bully them breaking anything kid made/name calling/pulling hair just being unbelievable mean. The bullies all freeze, then kid looks over their shoulders and sees the whole group behind them looking intimidating, the bullies run away while the other ask what's going on and try to comfort their child.
Wow this was longer then I expected SORRY!! I hope you have a wonderful day ❤️
There’s no need to be sorry for an idea 😁 I hope this turned out good
(Second piece to deal with a bullying theme, dang)
Fine Craftsmanship
ExU Crew & Child!Artificer!Reader
The trip to Byroden was a longer one then you first thought, having to make a few pit stops to rest and restock on food, but it did have its perks, giving you time to work on some projects while on the road. They weren’t anything huge, you wanted to surprise everyone in the group with a personally crafted item, everything was fine at first until you recognized the town you were currently approaching.
"Are you alright (y/n)? You seem a bit jumpy." Dorian comments, having noticed your fidgeting hands. You take a quick second to calm yourself before replying.
"I’m fine, this is actually my hometown. I haven’t seen it in awhile, you know." He gives you a small nod and gets himself a better look out the window.
"If you’re from here that means you know where all the good stops are right?" Dariax asks excitedly.
"I’m still a kid, I wouldn’t know what’s 'good' in your opinion." You stare blankly, it was a bit strange sometimes to be one of the smartest people in the group.
"Right, right. No drinking for you." Dariax says, as if he already knew all this. You playfully roll your eyes at him and smile a little, maybe this wouldn’t so bad after all, so long as you stayed close to everyone. You enter the town and find a good place to park the Glitter-Shitter (I can’t even write the word with a straight face) before making your way into the marketplace and instantly Opal is off browsing the different shops and stalls of the market, dragging Fearne along with her and Fy'ra Rai trailing behind them, telling everyone to meetup in an hour. Dorian heads over to the tavern hoping to sweet talk the folk there for some food for the road, Dariax tagging along most likely to grab some drinks and test his luck with some gambling. Orym had disappeared from your sight entirely, heading off to do his own thing if you had to take a guess. You sigh unsure of where to go, now just hoping things go by quickly and without trouble as you sit by the wagon pull out some tools and continue to tinker away at a small gift you were making for Fearne for a while, placing your mind into a false sense of security.
"Well, well, well. Look who decided to come home." You hear a chillingly familiar voice spite at you and look over at the three people you were hoping not to see. There was Marty, Hamna, and their self proclaimed leader Fion (I just made up some names here, idk), they used to terrorize you relentlessly until you’d finally had enough and snuck on that cart to Emon, which lead to the adventure you were on now, a story come full circle in the worst way to you. You get up quickly hoping to dash over to where Opal and Fearne where looking at some sparkling necklaces for protection, you don’t move quick enough as you’re yanked back by your hair by either Marty or Hamna as Fion covers your mouth to avoid you shouting for help. Once pulled into a nearby alleyway, away from public view, Marty and Hamna each restrain one of your arms. You thrash and struggle to try and free yourself, managing to loosen their grip slightly only to get socked in the jaw by Fion giving the other two the chance to readjust their grip into a more secure position, trapping you.
"Let go! Leave me alone!" You shout as you continue to squirm to try and free yourself.
"Awww, and what are you going to do if we don’t?" Marty teases. You wanted to cast something to no avail with their tight grip preventing you of freeing yourself and grabbing your tools.
"Look at them," Hamna laughs, "they’re too weak to even break free." You glare at them. Fion walks over to you and starts rummaging around your bag, mindlessly throwing around the various items you’ve worked on for a long time to make.
"What’s this supposed to be?" They ask, holding up a hair clip you had intended to give to Opal.
"That’s for my friend! Put it back!" You shout a little too loud for their liking and the two holding your arms use their free hands to cover your mouth, muffling your words or cry’s for help. The one holding the hair clip looks it over in their hand before looking you in the eyes and snapping the item in half.
"Oops, sorry. My hand slipped." Their voice dripped with sarcasm. They continue to rummage through your bag, or look through the small pile of items they threw out of it, pulling out items you wanted to give to everyone as gifts. Every time they’d inspect one item, they'd just as quickly break it, smashing it on the ground or snapping it in their hands. You struggled and tugged against the two still holding you back and muffling out your voice, but it was no use, you were restrained, unable to call for help and left to helplessly watch as they destroyed your hard work. As if things couldn’t get worse, they pull out your tools, the literal lifeblood for your magic, look you straight in your eyes and while struggling a bit manage to break them too.
"Awww, they’re crying like a baby." Hamna laughs.
"That’s because they are a baby." Marty continues.
"If you really want to cry like a baby, we’ll give a reason to cry." Fion eggs on, getting the other two to harshly shove you to the ground. You curl into a ball preparing for the worst, you wait a moment and when nothing happens you peek up to see the three of them frozen in place with fear in their eyes. You adjust yourself to have a look over your shoulder and see everyone standing with intimidating looks on their faces.
Dorian stared daggers at the bullies, while also subtly fiddling with his handaxe. Opal twirled her knives in her hands, magic sparking at her fingertips, and if you looked closely enough you could see a faint glow emit from her necklace. Fearne stood tall, her snake staff coming to life and hissing at the three, Mister well perched on her shoulder screeches, purposely showing the fiery interior of his mouth. Orym takes a step in front of you, acting as a shield for you while placing his hand on the hilt of his sword, you knew well enough he wouldn’t actually draw his sword on the other kids, but they didn’t know that. Dariax on the other hand looked very ready to strike at the three, holding a tight grip on his spear.
"Are you hurt bad?" Orym asks quietly, looking over to you. You shake your head giving an equally quiet "no".
"I’m not a fan of people hurting my little friend here." You hear Dariax say, now fulling pointing his spear at the others, the three each take step back. You finch at the feeling of being suddenly lifted off the ground, finding yourself in Dorian's arms, he gives you a concerned but reassuring smile.
"Let’s get out of here!" Fion commands and the three turn to leave but are stopped when Fy'ra Rai blocks their exit, her eyes burning into them with fury.
"You’re unjust actions should not be left unpunished. You dare to put down this child as if they are weak, when it is you three that are the weaklings. Knowing you would never stand a chance alone you group together and single out the ones you see as vulnerable. It is sad and pathetic, now leave while we still show you mercy." Her voice held such a powerful tone to it, it almost felt like the ground itself shook at her words. Fion, Marty and Hamna scramble over each other before running off, one of them crying for their mommy.
"Who where those children? Do you know?" Dorian asks. You let out a long sigh and explain to everyone a bit about your life when you still lived in the town.
"What’s all this stuff here?" Opal speaks up, staring at the broken pile of items.
"I wanted to surprise you all with some gifts I made, but now their all broken." You sigh sadly.
"You made theses for us?"
"I tried to, I know they aren’t that good but you’ve all been so nice and carding to me, I wanted to retune the favour."
"That’s really sweet of you." Fearne smiles, giving you a pat on the head, you smile a little at this.
"Why don’t you just fix them? I’ve seen ya do stuff like that before." Dariax butts in.
"I would, but they broke my tools too." You pout.
"Well that’s easy, we'll just buy you some new tools." Dorian states, shuffling you in his grip a bit to have a better hold on you. You look up at him with big hopeful eyes.
"Really? I don’t want to bother you."
"It’s no bother at all, your our little genius, the last thing we’d want are some small town jerks preventing you from ever thinking that." He proudly proclaims, getting affirmation from the others. Fy'ra Rai walks over and gently lifts your chin up to look at her.
"Listen to me little one, you are much stronger then you'd ever believe, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise." You give her a small nod, not entirely sure what she means but finding her words encouraging nonetheless.
"You know what? I do remember seeing these really awesome looking tools, while searching for a cloths shop. Here I’ll show you." Opal brightens up a bit, grabbing and dragging Dorian and by extension you off into the market again.
"Opal!" Dorian calls in surprise, holding tighter to you so you wouldn’t fall. You just giggle at the two, looking over your shoulder to see the others hurrying to catch up.
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childishfluff · 3 years
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(im gonna be sending a few seperate asks since theyre seperate thoughts/ideas, sorry for any sort of inbox spam!!) ur pet regressor tommy fic led me into a whole wormhole of many different ideas.. esp abt who else is a pet regressor!!
- wilbur (cat regressor!! also very relaxed, he *will* just sleep on phil or techno's lap for hours on end. mostly nonverbal, but will meow every now nd again. mostly communicates through actions. he can purr. doesn't drop often, but when he does, it's due to extreme stress- meaning he can be pretty sensitive while he's in catspace.)
- tubbo (puppy regressor, but definitely more of a relaxed dog aside from the amnt he communicates, especially through barking, whimpering, and soft "awooo!!"'s. loves snuggles. sometimes, he's scared to come of as annoying, so he's hesitant to slip into pupspace, normally needing someone to help him along and tell him that it's ok for him to be a puppy, nd that he's a very very good boy.)
- karl (kitten regressor!!!! he's either really sleepy or really playful/energetic, and he has no in between on that. he meows.. so much.. all he kno is meow meow!! *very* sensitive while dropped, and as such, he needs a lot of validation and love. will get extremely upset with himself if he notices that anyone is even *slightly* mad/irritated by him.)
- nick (sapnap) (PUPPY REGRESSOR 100000%!!! he's very very loud and extremely playful!!! he can be entertained for *hours* w literally anything, especially toys like chew bones. doesn't really drop too often, but when he does, he drops very very far. something that can trigger his drops is when people compare his traits/actions to those of a dog because he just goes yes!! yes me!!!! dog!!! me!!!! also he loves karl *so* much because karl absolutely spoils him rotten when he's in pupspace.)
- ranboo (kitty regressor!! similar to karl, he can be really sensitive while he's dropped. entirely nonverbal, opting for actions instead. he's a mix of both playful and sleepy. when he sleeps, he curls his entire body up into a circle nd kneads at whatever he's sleeping on until he falls asleep.)
- dream (cat regressor!! sleeps a lot when he's dropped, hes just vv tired. mimics patches, and loves to follow her around/act like she does. even bases his catgear around patches, with tabby-colored cat ears and an outfit based off of similar colors. drops very easily, mostly voluntarily.)
those r the ones i can think of now.. id love to know ypur opinions/interpretations of them!! -🌻
OKAY I’M GONNA GO THROUGH THESE ONE BY ONE, AND SHARE MY THOUGHTS+OTHER POSSIBLE HCS/FIC SCENARIOS, SO LONG POST WARNING Y’ALL
1. Cat Regressor! Wilbur
yes yes yes, I wouldn’t of thought of it myself but the idea is absolutely adorable! I’d totally write that, with like handler/cg!niki in addition to those you listed. And the idea of him using it for stress and therefore being sensitive in catspace? like, that’s amazing. 
I could imagine a fic where someone pushes him to regress for fun for once, but he feels like it’s stupid to purposely act like a cat when he doesn’t need it? They don’t pressure him, or anything, but he ends up slipping because he feels safe. and he realizes not only does it help with stress, but it just makes him more happy!
also imagine him slipping around tommy for whatever reason, and just wanting to sleep while Tommy’s trying to do something fun. So he’s dragging around a sleepy kitten and waking him up every two seconds, and it’s really soft and adorable and ends up with Wilbur sleeping somewhat on Tommy so that he can’t get up and he’s like ‘you’re so lucky I love you, dude.’ awww I need to write a fic- no promises but y’know
2.Puppy Regressor!Tubbo
someone actually requested a puppy regressors!tubbo and tommy fic that I’m having trouble writing, like it sounds cute but it’s kinda hard bc I’ve never written puppyspace before. I actually decided to start over but I’ma keep trying on that. 
anyways, imagine like, Ranboo or Tommy helping him slip over a discord call! Needing help to regress is something that I understand (I age regress, but I haven’t in a while due to this issue), so I could probably write Tubbo in that position well. Needing to be coaxed and told that it’s okay to be a cute lil puppy, like that’s adorable! 
3. Kitten Regressor!Karl
tbh I tried to write kitten!karl but I was half asleep and gave up, I need to get back to that hjsiksja. Like I specialize in writing sensitive regressors w/anxiety over someone being mad at them, so I could definitely pull this off. 
and the idea of him being a talkative kitty is sooo cute! Like I can imagine something along the lines of this conversation between him and a handler/cg:
“What do you want?”
“Meowww”
“I don’t know what that means!”
“Meow?” (little head tilt and innocent cute eyes)
“Do you want cuddles?”
*excited meows! and he goes and cuddles up in their lap bc yay, they understood him!*
and imagine kitten!karl playing w/Quackity! very very adorable concept
4. Puppy Regressor! Sapnap
okay okay so I don’t watch sapnap really but this is still adorable! Like the whole ‘me, puppy? yes.’ thing is soooo cute! Imagine George or Dream just forgetting that’s a trigger and making a joke about how one of his mannerisms reminds them of a puppy and suddenly! There’s a puppy to take care of!
and karl spoiling him sounds like something he’d do hjsiksjsa. I can’t really add much on here bc idk much about him/his content past the smp but this is so cute! Maybe I’ll watch a few of his videos and attempt writing him bc I keep getting requests for him
5. Kitten Regressor! Ranboo
yes, I was already thinking about this tbh! Like I’ve written him as a little and it’s kinda similar, he’s sensitive, and he’s less verbal the littler he gets. As a kitten, I can easily picture him just being quiet. 
I imagine that he’s really pouty because of this, because he doesn’t know how to communicate otherwise, so this might confuse anyone who may take care of him. 
“Why are you pouting? Do you want cuddles? Food? Do you wanna play?” 
and he just doesn’t reply bc he’s a kitten and he can’t talk so it’s an endless cycle of guess and check until they reach the right answer, and it’s really funny to watch. I can also imagine that he giggles a lot. Like he’s not verbal or anything, and he doesn’t giggle a lot but sometimes it happens! and if you make him giggle while in kittenspace then you did something right!
it makes everyone happy when he giggles and it’s really soft and cute! I definitely think I’ll write a fic with kitten!ranboo in it, at some point eventually, I think! 
6. Cat Regressor! Dream
awwwww- I didn’t even consider the possibility of this but awwww. Imagine Wilbur and Dream in catspace together, just sleeping and cuddling while basically all the other kittens are playing and being hyper. And everyone’s trying to get them to play but they’re sleepy! (ofc they end up playing anyways bc their friends are adorable and convincing but y’know)
and I really like the idea of him mimicking patches! I’ve seen a few pet regresors say that they mimick/copy their pets so it kinda feels realistic and likely! and plus, it’s really cute. 
and since his regression is voluntary, I can imagine him like one minute, just chillin w/george and sapnap and going ‘what if- what if I just went *cat mode*’ and he tries to hint to his friends that he wants to slip but they’re not getting it so it’s kinda frustrating for him but funny for the readers to see play out bc George and Sapnap are being completely oblivious to everything. Hjsiksja that’d be funny
Thank you for sending this it, like seriously! It was really fun to go through and talk about these, I might make additional headcannon lists once I’m actually awake tomorrow bc I shouldn’t be up rn but yeah, I just wanted to go through and respond to this! <3
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belleta · 3 years
Text
The Forest - Part One
Consists: Supernatural, SKZ as different SN creatures, adventure, romance, drama, action, ......still trying to figure out all the details....lol XD
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"Come on Y/N!", I was racing around the house. Trying to make sure I had everything for this trip. "Omg Y/N, let's GO~!" I swear to the universe she's going to thank me later. " I'm coming child!" I screamed back. Alrighty I just need my retainer. I bounded up the stairs and glided down the hallway with my cotton socks. Bursting into my room, I quickly scanned it for the sparkly emerald case. I caught sight of it out of the corner of my eye, "Boom!" I ran forward and snatched it off my windowsill. While leaping for my door, I paused and turned back to what I call my sanctuary. Call me paranoid but I'm kinda afraid of camping in the middle of the woods. Ever since I watched "The Blair Witch Project", I've been creeped.
It doesn't help that Jazzy forced us to watch the film, previous to this morning. I was drifting in the fairy floss clouds of my mind when a loud honk poured water on them. I sucked in a breath, blowing raspberries. Padding back over to my bedside, I grabbed my Ice Bear plushie. Giving it a quick squeeze and finally deciding that he's coming with me. Galloping back through the house, I made it out, locked the door and hopped in the back seat like a spring rabbit. "What took you so long?" I gazed up through my fringe at my girl bestie Jazmine. She had long beautiful honey blonde hair, and a mousy nose. Her blue eyes were alike with pebbles under a lake, with cheeks connected by a dash of light freckles. "I swear I just aged waiting for you" and Danny, our guy bestie. I've been best friends with Danny, since 3rd grade. Jazzy moved over during the 5th grade. All three of us have been with each other through thick and thin. Daniel was Hawaiian Japanese descent, had perfect colorful nails and absolutely gorgeous eye makeup. We were all dressed in casual, comfy clothes for the trip. Jazmine, or Jazzy as people call her, as the oldest. She was driving Danny's dad's truck. It was spacious and definitely was fit for the environment. Danny, second eldest was in shotgun and I, being the "baby", was in the back. "I was just making sure I have everything." The two rolled their eyes. Danny looked back at me "Girl, you need to chill. We've got everything and more" the boy stated. "I know, I know.....I'm just paranoid, you know.....being in the woods for a week" I looked down at my feet and played with my fingers to cover my embarressedness. "Awww, is the baby scared", Jazzy giggled, imitating a child. I swatted at her, "Let's just...finally go" I grumbled, reaching inside my bag to pull out my headphones. "Fine" they answered teasingly. While Jazzy was pulling out, I fastened myself and slid my headphones on. Bluetoothing them and unlocking my phone, I scrolled through my YouTube Music playlist finding the one named 'Bell Mix'. After that, I went back to the truffula trees and fairy floss. Just listening to my music and thinking about things. There were a couple times, where I thought I might get sick, but I had remembered my motion sickness bracelets. In your face! It's better to set out a little later, rather than having our vehicle reeking of my insides. 2 or 3 hours went by, or something. I'm not really sure, my brain doesn't really have a sense of time when I'm inside of it. We stopped to use the bathroom, get food and fuel at a gas station, maybe 2 hours away from the forest. "Can I, can I, can I, can I PLEASE?!?" I had been begging Jazzy to let me buy a bag of Haribo for 10 minutes now, and she was starting to break. I'm very persuasive as you find out, and I happen to be a very prominent weakness to many throughout my life. She finally gave in and I bounced away to the candy isle with glee and happily picked out a bag, promising to share. Jazzy just rolled her eyes and paid for our things. We trotted back to the car and continued our journey. It was nearing the end of 2pm when we finally arrived at the edge of the forest. It's lushes were absolutely perfectly splendid. The road continued for a hot minute, until it gave away to dirt and rocks. We didn't want to stray too far from the dirt road, so we slowly kept moving in until I suddenly exclaimed at the sight of a pretty little clearing. It had a few little bushes marking the edges, thick but soft looking grass, and a little dirt patch at one side that should be perfect for a firepit. We pulled over to take a look around, flattening a few bushes in the process. As soon as the truck came to a stop I shoved the door open and sprung down onto the flourishing forest floor. The first thing I did was take a deep breath to soak in the sweet scent of the untouched earth. I reached up, stretching and cracking a few of my bones in the process. Then I raced through the trees and undergrowth, toward the beautiful glade. It felt so nice to get away from civilization, I had always loved
getting away like this. Being able to recharge away from annoying people and sounds, my fears of the night were long forgotten. I was two steps away from the grass when I suddenly tripped over something. Tumbling forward and scratching my cheek. I landed on my face, but on the bright side it was luckily with no rocks around. The dirt however spared me at nothing, crawling into my fresh scrapes, was a sharp and quick stinging as I grabbed my face. "Seriously Y/N, we haven't even completely left the car yet and you've already managed to hurt yourself" Jazzy declared. Danny chimed in, "Did you hurt yourself at all?". Quickly inspecting myself, I responded "Yes, a tiny bit on my cheek, hands and knees", I could hear them muttering to themselves about how reckless I was sometimes. They started toward me and as I waited for them to catch up, I decided to look around and figure out where to put things for these next few days. While ogling the decently wide stretch that was conveniently shielded by a mighty sugar maple. I thought I saw something in the undergrowth a few meters away from me. I grabbed my glasses and narrowed my eyes, but right when I thought I saw whatever it was, two flashes shot in the opposite direction between the ferns and disappeared. They were kinda hidden but I could sorta make out one of the shapes was darker and slightly bigger. The other was a little bit easier but still was difficult, it was kinda brown, or maybe reddish? At that moment I felt two hands on my shoulders, "Let me see", it was Jazzy. She inspected my injury. "It'll be fine, just wash it off", "Okie-Dokie-Artichokie", she laughed and ruffled my hair. I gazed back at where I saw the two shapes but not even the bushes were still moving. "Hey!" I cocked my head back to the voice "Can you help me?" Danny was struggling to unpack from the back. "Sure thing Danny-O" I quickly stood up, maybe a little too quick. My vision went funny and I almost stumbled. "Oh my god Y/N! Be careful!" Jazzy scolded, "My bad!" I was a little all over the place at the moment. Finally we were on this trip! I mean, I waited 6 months for this and it's finally here! I'm not all childish, I'm actually very 4D. I'm just really excited okay? I more carefully walked back to the truck, where Danny was struggling to keep ahold of what appeared to be the tent. Over the course of the next hour and a half we set up everything. Goofing around and laughing. Danny had been pulling too hard on our sleeping bags, to wedge them out of the trunk. And had accidentally fallen onto the slightly wet dirt, causing a very prominent brown streak across his gray sweatpants and sky blue tie dye hoodie. I was currently on my way to find the stream that is supposably close by, with a screenshot of google maps and a compass. Service wasn't exactly a 5 star out here, but I didn't mind too much. I brought a portable WiFi router with me, so if Jason Vorhees just decided to pull one, we could call for help. Every so often I would hang a wooden heart ornament on one of the tree's branches, so if this was the correct way then we would never get lost. Also so that I didn't get lost right now. I had been making these last night, for these exact reasons. I swear only dumb people don't mark their surroundings, this is one of the main reasons why people disappear and are never found or get lost. There are no traces of where they've been, like these fruit loops really-...... After about another 20 meters I started hearing the sounds of water. It became louder and louder really quickly. Is there a waterfall here? I pondered, while quickening my pace with curiosity. 35 seconds later I came across a thinning in the trees and beyond a clear water stream. I finally broke out of the shelter provided from the thick leaves, the sun kissed my skin with it's warm touch. I looked around and sure enough, there was a small waterfall that looked straight out of a fairytale. It had multiple uneven levels, with smoothed boulders everywhere. And to top it all off, it had little water plants scattered around it. Absolutely
beautiful.... I scanned around and spotted a few giant boulders poking into the stream. I carefully picked my way over to them, clutching onto Danny's muddy clothes. Hopping onto the sunlight warmed stones, I positioned myself perfectly so that I could reach the water but wouldn't fall in. I reached into my pocket for my zip lock of natural soap, of course I didn't want to hurt this literally untouched land. I leaned down to dunk the fabric into the stream's crystal-like water and kneaded the brown smudge. It was decently cold, just perfect for a stream. I turned back to the small bag with a green bar wrapped with brown paper and a little herb decoration. I unzipped it and reached for a tiny hand towel I brought with me so that I would have a better grip on the soap, even if I got wet. After dunking the clothes in I took the bar of soap and swiped it all over. I dipped it into the water once to help the bubble come, then I started aggressively rubbing it. Once the outfit was foaming with suds, I slapped it into the brook. Holding onto the sleeve I rub it harshly all over to get the stains out. It was relatively still easy because the events of cause were only moments before. I was starting to disappear into my thoughts, getting deeper and deeper and deeper....... And just then a crash and from the trees, followed by snarls and barks. I was so lost in my thought that this jolted me into the canal. The water suddenly became ice cold, my scream had been washed away. A surge of water filled my lungs from the way my mouth was open to yelp. I could still hear the sounds of fighting every so often, when I would surface. My head was hurting, my skin was stinging and my lungs were screaming. Someone.....please help..... It was hurting so much, I was trying not to panic. So I could find the surface and get back to shore. I would break through it's crisp arctic clutches every so often and would cry out for help but then get cut off by the now frosty darkness. I was giving up to the stream and submitting to the coldness. Letting it swallow me whole. I was numb, I couldn't feel my body being thrown around anymore, Is this how my story ends? No! I don't want to! I still have things to do! I need to graduate, and find my passion! I need to find a man who will love me as much as I do! I need to birth young and care for them! I want to grow old with my partner happily! I can't die yet! I just can't! But it was just so cold. I had stopped moving violently, so I guess I had been poured into a lake or something. I didn't care anymore. My blood felt frozen, I couldn't even bend a finger. That's when I felt a force near me, it parted the waters. Moving me in a different direction with its power. Then not long after I felt something grab hold of me in an awkward way. I was starting to be pulled into another direction, as the water streamed around, parting to let me and whatever that was saving me through. Then I broke through the surface and that was the last thing I felt before slipping into a comfy unconsciousness.
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kyber-crystal · 4 years
Text
department of matchmaking || s.r
summary: in which you’re asked by aunt may to babysit peter while she’s away at a business conference & steve tags along. peter, being the innocent smol bean he is, tries to get you and the Captain together.
words: ~3.1k
warnings: none, just fluff & a little matchmaking spider-man :) and OH steve’s blue jacket heheh. tony’s your dad in this oop cant resist a stark child. shhh CW never happened bc i’m still in denial 
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Peter: Aunt May says she has a couple errands to run so she won't be back until later this afternoon. Can you pick me up? School just ended.
You: Of course!
Peter: Ned and I are planning on building the Lego Death Star tonight. I know you're a sucker for building stuff :)
You: You know me so well, kiddo. I'm definitely in. How could I miss out on our weekly date nights?
Peter: You're the best! See you soon
You: See you!
"Where are you going?"
"May's busy, so I gotta go pick Peter up from school," you explained to Steve as you slung your purse over your shoulder and grabbed the keys to your (Tony's) Audi, sliding your sunglasses on. "We're having one of our weekly Friday movie nights, and he and Ned just got a new Lego set that they want me to help construct. You wanna come along?"
"Sure, I don't mind."
You headed outside to the car together, sticking the keys into the ignition as Steve slid in next to you in the passenger's seat. "I hope you don't have anything else planned for the rest of tonight. We might be there for a while...I know we were gonna see that new action movie in theaters tomorrow. I'm sorry."
"Nope, no plans," he smiled, "I'm free for the rest of this weekend. As long as I get to spend time with you, it's okay."
You couldn't help but feel your heart flutter a bit at his words. 
But you quickly brushed the thought off, knowing the last thing you were supposed to do was fall for someone after you'd just gotten over a nasty breakup.
Soon enough, you pulled up in front of Midtown High School and saw Peter standing with Ned by the curb. You rolled the window down and called out to them. "Hey, boys. Need a ride?"
"My favorite Avenger! Hi!" Ned greeted as he and Peter got into the backseat, strapping their seatbelts on.
"Ouch, I'm offended," Steve placed a hand over his chest and pretended to look hurt. "I thought I was your favorite?"
"Captain America! It's an honor!" he exclaimed. "I've heard so much about you from Peter!"
"Oh, really? I hope he only told you good things?" the super-soldier chuckled.
"Yup!"
"So, how was school?" you glanced back at the two teenagers from the rearview mirror. "Anything interesting happen?"
"No, except they actually served something edible in the cafeteria for lunch today," Peter rolled his eyes. "Which is a first."
You sighed, placing your hand back on the wheel, "School food isn't the best thing ever."
"So uh, I have a question," Ned spoke up as you headed down the street, "are you and Y/N a...thing? ‘Cause I hear a lot of fans are speculating that the kickass agent and America’s golden boy are dating."
"What? No," you and Steve replied in unison, exchanging a knowing look before bursting into laughter. "No."
"Okay..."
It was mostly quiet for the rest of the car ride back to the apartment. Peter pulled out the keys from his jacket pocket and slid it in the lock, pushing the door open and gesturing for the rest of you to come inside.
"So," he breathed out, setting his backpack down by the front door and dusting his hands off. You sat around the sofa together, glancing at the massive Lego set on the coffee table. "Here it is, in all its glory."
"How many pieces is this?" Steve questioned, looking at it in shock.
"Almost 4000."
A buzzing sound from his phone made Peter look down, swiping a few times before unlocking it and scanning over the new notification.
"May has an overnight business conference and she won't be back until tomorrow evening. She wants you to babysit," he explained as he looked up at you.
"Fine by me," you shrugged. "Cap?"
"Sure, why not."
"But I'm 15 and 8 months! I'm not a baby."
"Well, kiddo, I'm 28 and Tony treats me like a baby even though I’m not a baby anymore. Steve's going on 32, and acts like he's 12."
"I do not!"
"Yes, you do."
"I do not!"
"Yes, you do."
"Arguing like a married couple," Peter coughed, and Ned wiggled his eyebrows up and down. "Cute."
"For the last time, we're not a thing," you let out an exasperated sigh, but felt a blush creep up your cheeks as you spoke.
Two hours later you were a little over halfway done with building the Death Star, and fatigue was beginning to catch up with you after you neglected your sleep schedule and pulled three all-nighters in a row bingeing Netflix with Sam.
You let out a yawn as you flipped through the instructions pamphlet, stretching your arms up in the air.
"You tired?" Steve asked. You were too tired to respond, simply leaning into him and closing your eyes.
"You can take her to the guest room. Straight down the hall, then turn right," Peter said as he noticed you'd now fallen asleep on him. "We can continue this after dinner."
Steve scooped you up into his strong arms and carried you down the hall, pushing the door to the guest room open with one hand before carefully setting you down on the bed, tucking you in.
"Sleep tight," he whispered, a ghost of a smile on his face as he leaned down to kiss your forehead and left.
"Ahem. Now that she's gone," Ned cleared his throat, "time to plan on how we're supposed to get our OTP together!"
"Ned, really-"
"You should ask her out, Cap. I see the way you look at her," Peter raised an eyebrow at him, "I mean, it's clear to everyone how you feel about her, and the way she feels about you. Sam sees it, Mr. Stark sees it, heck, I think May has her suspicions as well because she wouldn't stop talking about how great of a couple you two would be over dinner last night-"
"Look, Peter, I don't think she's ready for a relationship."
"Why not?"
"She just broke up with her boyfriend two months ago. I doubt she'd be willing to date again."
"But you're her best friend! You're literally the perfect man for her!"
"It doesn't matter. I'm not taking advantage of someone when they're vulnerable. That isn't right."
He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest and kicking his feet up against the coffee table, tossing a spare Lego piece up and down in one hand. "Yeah, I totally believe the great Captain America isn't in love with the great Y/N."
"She's my friend. A teammate."
"Friends with benefits!" Ned chimed in. Steve made a face at this. "No, not like that. I mean that as in, you guys do all the things that regular couples do, except you're not officially a couple. And I think that's big enough of an indication that you should get together for real."
"I'm just waiting for the right time."
"AHA!" both boys shouted. "So you are in love with her!"
"Keep it down!" he scolded. "She's asleep!"
"You didn't deny it this time..."
"Fine, whatever. What do you guys want for dinner? I'll go pick it up."
"Pizza."
"If Y/N asks where I am, just tell her I went to go get the food."
"Okay."
As soon as the door shut behind Steve, Peter and Ned's heads immediately whipped over and they faced each other, exchanging evil grins.
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Ned practically squealed.
"Yeah, I'm thinking what you're thinking!"
"Romantic dinner and movie night setup!" both boys whooped and hollered.
"I'll light the candles and get the napkins. May always keeps a stock of scented ones when Y/N comes over because she loves the smell of cherry blossoms."
"...I'll grab the rose petals and tablecloth."
"Rose petals?"
"Mind if I tear apart the flower on your desk?"
"Yeah, yeah, go ahead. Also, the regular tall candles are in the cabinet below the sink in the bathroom."
"Yessir."
Twenty minutes later, Steve came back with the pizza in hand, setting the keys on the counter and closing the door, stopping dead in his tracks as he observed the scene before him.
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"What is going on?"
"We set up a date night for you two because we know you've been working hard this past week and deserved to relax," Peter explained happily. "So, here you go!"
"Peter," Steve sighed, rubbing his forehead, "I appreciate your effort, but Y/N isn't ready for a relationship and neither one of us has feelings for the other."
"But you guys deserve a break! After working nonstop you should at least rest or something."
"Alright, alright. I'll go get Y/N. You guys set the pizza on the plates for everyone, okay?"
"Got it."
You yawned and rubbed your eyes, then stretched your arms up into the air, skidding to a halt as you observed the sight before you.
“Wh...what’s going on?”
Peter and Ned grinned from where they sat on the couch, paper plates on their laps. “We thought you deserved a nice break, so we set up a little something for you guys!”
“A romantic dinner? Why...”
"It looks pretty and gives off a relaxing mood. Why else?” Peter laughed nervously. “Now eat!”
“Okay...” you started growing suspicious, but didn’t question it, “alright, then.”
You fell into an awkward silence after that, aside from the occasional sound of silverware clinking against plates and drink glasses being set back down on the table. The atmosphere felt heavier than before and you couldn’t help but wonder what it was. 
“So, uh...how have you been holding up?” Steve asked you tentatively. He knew the topic of your ex-boyfriend was still that of a rather sensitive one - you’d come storming through the elevator doors and gulped down half a bottle of vodka (you never drank, so this had everyone genuinely worried), before heading upstairs and taking a forty-five minute shower, then afterwards, proceeded to lock yourself in your room for the rest of the afternoon. 
When you wouldn’t come down for dinner, he had to carry up your food to you and when you refused to eat, he was the one to force-feed you. When you suddenly broke down sobbing when he asked you if you were alright, he was the one who held you in your arms. He was the one who got you out of bed to bring you downstairs for some fresh air and to interact with the others, and not once during the time he was having to take care of you for, did he question any of your behavior. You were hurting and that was all that mattered. If you were hurting, he was hurting, too.
“It’s been a rough eight weeks...” you sighed, rubbing your forehead with one hand as you took a sip of wine. “Could be better, but...I’m alright. I just wish I could’ve seen that coming from the moment I went on that blind date with him.”
“What do you mean?” Steve was confused - you’d never mentioned any details of your relationship, you were a very private person, for that matter. You rarely ever opened up to anyone. “I thought you were...”
“Happy? Hell no, I don’t even know why I stayed,” you scoffed as you took another swing of your drink. “It was so easy to fall into a routine. There was this gaping hole in my heart, and...I needed it to be filled somehow. Then Agent Williams comes along, a seemingly perfect new SHIELD recruit, almost everything a girl could possibly want in a man standing right in front of me...how could I not fall for his façade? I didn’t realize it was doomed from the start until about a week into the relationship...but I held my tongue. I knew if I dared to speak up against him, he’d somehow manage to use my words against me, twist everything I said into a whole new lie...he manipulated me, day after day...yet I still didn’t leave because I genuinely believed he’d change. 
“But I was wrong. I was naïve, I stayed because I was so desperate to experience true happiness that I went as far as to stay with someone I knew would do a number on my mental health in the long run. I shouldn’t have been surprised when I walked into HQs one day to drop stuff of for Coulson, to see Williams on top of someone else...in the gym. In the gym...of all places. I only didn’t blast him because I didn’t want to destroy Fury’s property. So I slapped him and left. That’s it. This whole...fling, or whatever the hell you want to call this shitty relationship, lasted only twenty-six days before everything fell apart. God, I’m so stupid - I should’ve known. I was so stupid, I’m such a horrible person for doing what-”
Steve felt his blood boil with anger. Williams had cheated on you - that’s why you’d broken up. All this time he’d been thinking that you simply fell out of love, or maybe ended it on friendlier terms - when in fact, it was anything but.
Nobody deserved to be treated this way, especially you. I could treat you much better, he thought to himself.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he said softly, reaching a hand up to wipe the stray tears that fell from your eyes. Instead of letting his hand fall back at his side right away, he let it linger there for a moment, gently stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. The feeling sent electricity up his fingers. “It’s not your fault. You’re not a bad person...he is.”
“Shit, I think our plan’s backfiring,” Peter hissed into Ned’s ear as they watched the scene unfold from the couch. “What the fuck, Ned!”
“Shh! Hold on, they’re having a really deep conversation. Let them be for a second.”
“I was stupid enough to stay, when he was giving off all the wrong signs...I should’ve listened to Tony and Nat. They knew. They knew from the moment we first got together, but I didn’t listen...”
“It’s okay. You didn’t know any better,” he reassured you, absentmindedly taking your hand in his and rubbing circles across your palm, “you just wanted to be happy. To experience that feeling that came along with being in a relationship. Frankly, I think I would’ve done the same thing.”
“And what makes me feel even worse,” your voice caught in your throat as you spoke, “...were my true intentions of staying. I wanted to be happy, I really did. But I realized I’d never achieve that with someone like him...in a way, I was using him too, I guess. Not for my personal gain or anything, not to boost my social status, like he did...he always made a point of walking around and declaring that he had an Avenger girlfriend. But...”
“But what?”
“I knew if I was in a relationship with someone, that’d prevent me from thinking about being with anyone else. Well...that plan failed...horribly.”
“...What are you saying?”
“Of course, I didn’t figure that out until not long ago...but yeah. The heart wants what it wants...and it didn’t want him.”
“Then who was it?”
Your gaze flickered down to your now-intertwined fingers. You hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “...I think you know who it is, Steve.”
“See!” Ned kicked Peter in the shin as he was in the middle of finishing off his second slice, and he winced. “It’s getting saucy!”
“Ow!” 
“I think we both know,” Steve murmured. 
You let out a sound that was a cross between a laugh and a sob. “I don’t know why I tried pursuing a relationship that wouldn’t fulfill me in the long run. I should’ve known it was you all along, huh? You know me like the back of your hand. For Odin’s sake, you remembered every detail of my SHIELD file, my favorite color, my exact birth date, everything there is to know about me. It’s always been you-”
“...It broke my heart to see you with someone who wasn’t me,” he said quietly.
“Then why didn’t you say anything?”
“I didn’t want you to feel like I was meddling in your love life. I know you hate it when people do that.”
“Steve-”
“I knew you weren’t as happy as you let on. I shouldn’t have stayed silent...I should’ve at least said something. I was terrified to speak up, thinking that you wouldn’t reciprocate my feelings-”
“You...you what?”
“Yeah,” he chuckled lightly, “I’m in love with you.”
Peter let out a squeak. Ned chucked a pillow at him, a giddy look on his face.
“Good news,” you laughed, “because I’m in love with you too.”
“FINALLY!” Ned whooped, unable to contain his excitement for any longer. He and Peter exchanged a fist-bump. “FINALLY FINALLY FINALLY! I can’t believe our ship finally sailed! Though I gotta be honest, I had no idea pizza could bring out people’s true feelings like that.”
“We’re geniuses!” Peter squealed, pulling out his phone.. “Oh, wait until Mr. Stark hears about this!”
Your eyes widened in realization. “Peter, don’t you dare c-”
Too late. A buzzing sound came from your phone, alerting you of a new notification, and you unlocked it to see a text from your father. 
Mr. Stank😡: Took you long enough, honey. I expect a grandchild soon.
Mr. Stank😡: But I’m gonna be honest, I wouldn’t want any other man for you than Capsicle himself.
You let out a loud groan, shoving your phone back into your purse. “Oh, come on.”
A buzzing sound came from Steve’s phone as well, and he took it out of his pocket to take a look. 
Stark: You better not knock her up until after you get married and then leave. I learned that lesson too late. I’m being serious when I’m telling you to treat her right - she hasn’t been the same since her mother walked out all those years ago. You make her happy, though, so I won’t try to intervene.
Stark: But if you hurt her in any way, I’ll break your face. Capiche?
Steve: ...Capiche.
“Ooh! I just got a promotion for telling him about you guys!” Peter clasped his hands together. “I’m joining you on your next group mission!”
“That’s great, Peter!” you congratulated, “but...why would he give you a promotion for...this?”
“Because he’s been waiting for this to happen for the longest time! Oh and also, your food’s getting cold.”
“We could just reheat it. Or...if you guys are still hungry, do you want to go to Olive Garden?” Steve looked over at the two teenage boys. 
“YES.”
“Y/N, what about you?”
“It’s a date,” you winked. You let out a small laugh upon seeing his cheeks flush red.
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solarcitymelodies · 4 years
Text
Wowza sorry y'all about the random massive Rockafire spam, I'm pretty sure ??most?? People on here? know me for just Knight Rider because that's the only thing I've ever REALLY posted about--
but I Do Not Care it's RAE hours right now so uhhh here's some headcannons that probably aren't Canon compliant very much because I just got into RAE like last week
So like. I feel like Mitzi is a Good Amount younger than the rest of the band like she was in highschool when she joined, the rest of em were all Adults™ and she was a little bit nervous about it because...... ADULTS™
She was just lookin for a place to get her singing voice out there, because ya girl REALLY wanted to perform, and showbiz happened to have a slot open, but she did not expect all of the members to be older than her (although looking back, she realized she probably should have expected that)
It was intimidating at first but Billy Bob and Fatz were just the absolute sweetest and they introduced her properly to the rest of the band because she was like "oh I barely talk to them because I get nervous :(" and the resident dads p much said "aight we can do all the talking for you then, how about that?" And badabing badaboom she's now attached to these two and like honestly who isn't or maybe that's just me but ANYWAYS I feel like the band would become a second home/safe space for her
Yeah fr some reason I have BIG long headcannon for her joining the band but the rest of them? Nobody knows how they got there for all I know they just Showed Up One Day
Also I came across this
https://youtu.be/UU7BeUWQBDI
youtube
Which got me thinkin about what my headcannons were as far as sexuality/gender stuff
And I find the concept of Billy Bob being Very Much Straight And Ignorant but trying his hardest to be a good ally SO funny like if someone came out to him he'd probably be like "oh!! I don't understand why you would choose that lifestyle but I respect you!!" not realizing how incredibly stupid he sounds sjkrjh like I don't think he can very easily wrap his head around how people are just. not cishet. so he's like "OH then it must be a choice, right? like you can choose to be gay but you're born straight. Right?" and everyone just shakes their heads in the background but he does earnestly try his best and my man would rather DIE than disrespect someone's pronouns I know this for sure
Fatz is pretty similar, straight ally and a lil confused but he's got the spirit, you know? He still least knows being gay (as well as,,, m o s t sexualities that aren't straight, although some he doesn't get/know about at all) isn't a choice but he hasn't quite grasped that being trans is also not a choice. He will respect your pronouns to hell and back but by god he doesn't get it,,, he's trying though and he feels very accomplished in himself that he's starting to get the hang of using they/them even though he slips up a lot
The rest of the band encourages the HELL out of these two because they're. Trying their best and making an honest effort which is more than a pretty good chunk of people would give
Rolfe, Earl, and Dook are the reasons Billy Bob and Fatz are trying so hard to understand it lmao
Rolfe took it upon himself to hang up a MASSIVE gay pride flag backstage, being the flaming homosexual that he is, and the rest of the squad quickly realized "oh he's GAY gay he wasn't kidding" because at first they literally thought he was joking as he was actually just being openly and obnoxiously a raging mlm (and like I mean no shade to him this isn't me tryna to make fun of it because my dumb sapphic ass almost crashed my car once because I saw a pretty girl walk down the street. And by "once" I mean. Yesterday.) Anyways yeah that's when the rest of em Realized and were like "OH" but after the massive pride flag was hung up that prompted Dook to come out and they were all like "???? YOU TOO????"
Dook is a non-binary ICON he's a demiboy and goes by both he/him and they/them and probably would have a bunch of pride pins I think,,, I'm not really sure of his sexuality though!! honestly he kinda gives me bisexual vibes but Who Knows . Not me. He has a HELL of a time trying to explain his gender to the rest of the band (except for Rolfe because like. He's a part of the community so he knows) and basically he was met with "so you're just a dude but ✨spicy✨?" and it was like, "no, but I have no idea how to explain it in a way that will make sense to you, so. yes?" And that explanation seemed to suffice for most of them
Mitzi went in knowing NOTHING about what being non-binary was so she asked a l o t of questions about it, which Dook just kinda dealt with answering (he's heard most of it before, and it gets tiring after a while. if you're nb or trans or honestly any part of LGBTQ+ you know what I mean) but he thought it was really sweet of her to be so determined to learn about it and eventually she did get a grasp on it ish, so she was able to understand why it wasn't just ✨spicy male✨ (the conversation pretty much went "well if i was just male, don't you think I would label myself that way instead?" "....oH TRUE!!!") and she ended up a VERY passionate ally, and she'll ask occasionally about how to be better at it, bein a queen as she is 👉👉 also definitely started questioning her sexuality after a while and just went with "maybe bicurious" and Rolfe, Dook, and Earl were all like "ONE OF US, ONE OF US"
Earl has never once spoken about his sexuality in his life, because 1. He's very aware that's an awkward conversation to have with a puppet, and 2. He's aroace anyways, which is basically what people assume even if they don't realize it just for their own peace of mind, because seriously, puppets and any identity that ISN'T aroace creates a really uncomfortable mental image for... Most people, pretty much. So it's not like he ever needed to say anything about it, which is convenient for him because he wouldn't want to say anything either way. not worth the risk of embarrassing himself and making everyone feel awkward
(side note ish though Rolfe 100% came out to Earl first and was met with "I already knew that but okay." Rolfe was mildly offended)
And spEAKING OF EARL he's VERY much sentient but he can't say he's particularly enthusiastic about it because Rolfe has to carry him around everywhere
He can move on his own but it's limited and generally annoying to maneuver around with his tiny body so he just says screw it half the time and stays on Rolfe's arm or hitch a ride on Random Object, but like... Yeah, the majority of the time Rolfe just has to deal with only having one arm available and a puppet directly next to him making fun of him at every possible chance
They high-key have chaotic and unorganized college roommate vibes (like they're actually roommates because... Where tf is Earl supposed to go?? So Rolfe took him in) and idk if this is really like a part of my headcannons or if I just think it's funny so I keep entertaining the idea of it but I think it would be Fantastic if Rolfe had no idea how to cook but Earl somehow did so this idiot is trying to take instructions from a puppet, who can't physically show him what to do, and it's like Hell's Kitchen live featuring a furry and a sentient stuffed animal
Aaaaamd going off of my Rolfe and Earl headcannons still Rolfe for SURE has some sort of executive dysfunction issue. ADD or ADHD I'm not sure (probably ADHD) but he definitely has it also this totally isn't just me projecting how dare you accuse me of that
And!!! More about Dook!!!! I don't know how or why I thought up of this but I cannot possibly imagine him any other way now-- he's autistic and space is his Big Huge special interest, and if you ever ask him about it you have to be prepared to get infodumped or possibly even shown a PowerPoint presentation, because GOD he loves space!!! He wants everyone to know all about it!! He knows not everyone thinks it's as cool as he does so he tries to keep his mouth shut but when someone asks about it he can't help himself and will infodump a LOT, also haha drumming stims go brrrr, playing the drums isn't really a stim but he likes to just take his drumsticks and whack em around in the air and get that good ol Wavy Arm Action (wavy arms is best stim change my mind you can't it's GOOD)
Also i bbbbelieve earlier I reposted somethin about someone else headcannoning that he has echolalia, which I don't really know enough about to say anything on it?? But even if he doesn't have echolalia he'd probably repeat phrases over and over until he gets tired of them (which is,,, something I do lmao, it's either memes I get stuck in my head or things I've heard from various medias I like the inflections in (like one tiktokker I saw was talking about their tourettes and their vocal tics and one of them was "uh oh! How unfortunate!" and now I CAN'T STOP SAYING IT)) but like uhhh yeah :))) repeating phrases that get stuck in your head for various reasons for the win
This is already really long so I'm just gonna vibe out thanks for coming to my Ted talk feel free to ask questions I probably won't be able to answer a lot of em though because my headcannons are a Mess hehe >:)
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timeslostart · 3 years
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March 19th 2021
THERAPEUTIC KNITTING - STRESSED NO MORE
It really is a thing...
Being a single mom can be hard at the best of times let alone in the middle of the Covid-19 pandemic.  Moving back to my hometown (city actually), finding a full-time job after being a stay at home mom for two years, trying to start my own business and dealing with the daily trials and tribulations of having a now four year old little boy is not easy. (read my Halloween post :p )
The one thing that has been helping me get through this very trying time is that I have wonderfully creative and supportive people in my life that constantly push me to continue to be creative myself.  I draw a lot of inspiration for my designs from the people I know and the situations that arise in my life.  No situation or experience is too tough to get through.
I always try to see the glass half full even though lately it's been getting harder and harder to do so in my personal life and my professional life. 
I have been working on this mountain blanket design since last July for a Christmas present (that was the goal anyway as it is March 2021 now) and I've had to start over six times already.  I try not to look at this as a failure as I've learned so much trying to attempt this pattern that I created; new stitches and new techniques in order to get the result I desire but it still has been a very long, difficult process.  Because of this I thought it might be interesting in this post to talk about how I create my patterns and how many times I do start over in order to get it just right.  This is my personal version of knit therapy.  Sometimes in order to create you must first destroy!  Ripping out my knitting after getting frustrated with it can be truly satisfying at times.
STEP 1 Idea
Now an idea for a new design can literally come from anything or anywhere for that matter.  My friend's favourite colour or a conversation I have with my child; even  a picture or image I see online or in my travels.  For my mountain blanket it all started with a conversation that I had with my coworker.  He talked about growing up in Banff, Alberta and how he would go snowboarding in the mountains and bam it hit me, I'd design a pop art inspired piece.  That's all it was in the beginning, just two words... mountains and pop art. (well I guess three words but you get the idea)
STEP 2 Design
Designing is always fun for me, I get to let my imagination run wild. For patterns that involve any kind of pictures as part of the design element, like my mountain blanket, I use my Microsoft Excel program and create a chart. 
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Once that is underway I decide on a size for my pattern and adjust my chart accordingly.  This can take a few hours or even a few days to get just right.  My blanket was designed specifically  to fit a twin bed so it was quite a big undertaking to begin with and having to start it over six times... I'm surprised I haven't ripped all my hair out yet.
STEP 3 Making
Now it's one thing to have an idea and another to have a design but if you can't take your vision and turn it into reality it's back to square one.  I have spent the past 8 months trying to make this blanket work.  It has a beautiful seed stitch pattern followed by the mountain design and I just can't get my tension on the mountains right.  My stitches are either too tight or too loose or my yarn drags too much on the underside of the blanket.  It's been such a frustrating project, I've actually shed a few tears over it.  That's where Step 4 comes in.
STEP 4 Adapting
Like I said earlier this blanket was meant to be a Christmas present.  I should clarify, it was for Christmas 2020.  So three weeks before Christmas I had finally had it with my blanket.  Enough was enough.  I was still only half done and had to rip out the mountain section yet again.  Nothing seemed to be going right and it looked like I wasn't going to have a gift to give at our Christmas gathering when I decided that my best course of action was to get back to basics and go back to my roots.
In one of my earlier posts I mentioned that I was a cross-stitcher before I was a knitter.  That skill certainly came in handy here.  A knitting chart and a cross-stitching chart are very similar so it was quite easy to convert my mountain pattern over to a smaller needle and thread. 
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Four weeks later I had my design completed as a cross-stitch just in time for our Christmas gathering. (sometimes having a Covid-19 quarantine around the holidays resulting in festivity postponement works in your favour)  A good lesson here was not only do you need to know how to adapt but you need to know when to adapt.  As an artist and as a person I need to know my limits and when certain skills or certain things are just out of my reach.  It doesn't mean that I'm going to give up, it just means that I need more time to acquire what I need in order to succeed.  At the end of the day I'm still new to knitting, I've been doing it for less than a decade and I still have so much left to learn.  I just need a little bit more time before I can attempt the kind of intricate patterns that I would like to do.  Until then it's good to take a break from knitting every once and a while and make sure my embroidery skills stay sharp. 
Pop Art Mountain Mash-Up 2.0
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Not too shabby!
If you would like to purchase any wooden embroidery hoops or embroidery thread please check us out at
www.timeslostart.com
A smaller cross-stitched version of this mountain pattern will be available for purchase in the summer months.
Gabrielle Vansteelandt
Times Lost Art
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euphoriacrossing · 4 years
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So while I sit here trying to get normal balloon spawns...
I may as well write a blog. I am using a guide post on how to catch normal balloon spawns to try and get more cherry blossom recipes. Well I am only half using it.. I am camping on the beach waiting for normal balloon spawns instead of going there every 0/5 ending minute. I'll share the guide on here after this if I remember, but I already got one new cherry blossom recipe just by camping on the side of the beach that balloon spawns are coming from and ignoring the bunny day balloons, so I think this could work, too.
Anyway, now story mode is over, but I still have so, so much to do that it's not even funny. I am making it my main priority to save miles up to buy all the different paths and stuff. I think I have three left to buy so roughly 6,000 miles to earn. But saving miles means making less bells as Nook mile trips are where I made the most, I think. And now I can't take them because I have no miles/am saving miles and so I don't have the bells to pay off my house or to build a new bridge or any of the things I am saving for. But in part the fact it is harder to save bells just makes it feel like I have more to do and that is comforting in a way. I want the appeal of this game to last forever but I know my brain doesn't work like that. Still for now it's the best distraction I have and I'm grateful for it.
Having the ability to make paths is tough because it's just another million decisions to make and hope I get it right or can redo it better or whatever, so that Euphoria becomes the island I dreamed it could be. Right now I have a lot of dirt paths and I think they look okay. But I plan on redoing them someday with either custom paths or maybe just the arched tile ones... I like that path style. Still I started when I just had dirt so I just kind of kept going that way.
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It looks alright, I think, especially at the entrance. I haven't finished a lot of the paths on either the right (residential) side or the left (wooded area/orchard) but I have mostly finished the center which is shops and such.
(So far I've gotten a normal balloon spawn every 5 minutes! So it works to just hang around the beach and then look for the spawns at every 0 and 5 ending minute. Edit: Aw, nope just didn't get that last one... I am probably doing something wrong then. Oops Edit2: Definitely doing something wrong. Didn't get a spawn again. Oh well I'll check the guide again once I finish this post. I am also watching for wishing stars so it won't be a total waste.. though I haven't seen any of those either. Last edit: Guide said spawns don't happen every time AND I just got another regular balloon, so maybe I'm fine? I hope I am not just wasting time.)
I am moving most of the houses before I do the paths on that side which is ANOTHER expense for sure, but after seeing a couple of my friend's islands, I knew I could make the houses probably a bit straighter and I decided I want them not quite as closer together as I want everyone to be able to have a yard. One of my friends has houses that are PIN straight and have little yards to them. I don't think I can accomplish that. But I do think I can space them out far enough to fence them in and have little yards.
So I started with the last to move in which was Marina. I put her in a space both by the beach, and by my house because even though she just moved in we're absolute besties. No but honestly, I love her. She sings like everywhere she goes and it's adorable.
I would move Beau next but I think he might stay close to where he is. Unfortunately if I have to move him a little bit I first have to move his house out of the way and then move it back because you can't move buildings just a tad, you have to find a whole new spot. This is why I had to move the whole museum to a new spot as it was slightly out of line and i couldn't just move it to where it lined up. I wish i had known this when i put things there. I didn't take care placing anything because I knew it could be moved. I only ASSUMED it could be moved a small amount as well especially since I assumed correctly that you were paying for it. But no, so oh well, now I have to come up with new spots for things, that's fine. Luckily both Nook's Cranny and the Able Sisters I got in perfect alignment with resident services like I wanted to so they're all on one straight path.
Anyway, I hope I can get it looking like i want it to. I thought that decorating it how I wanted would be the hardest because I still need to find all the furniture. But the paths might give that a run for it's money when we talk about difficulty level if you include trying to get all the houses in the right position and such.
But as hard as I've been "working" (it's definitely still fun or I wouldn't do it) I have found plenty of time for play as well. Yesterday morning I visited a friend for her KK Slider concert. I luckily have a good group of friends from a discord I'm part of and a lot of them are from other countries so they experience stuff before I do and things like that. So a bunch of us visited her for her KK concert and we did some of that...
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And then things got a little wild...
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Lol, it was fun. I thought for a second about the state of the world but I didn't panic thankfully. I just saw a bunch of us coming together from across the globe, some of us in quaratine, almost all of us at least ADVISED not to go out unless necessary. The world is a scary place right now, but the fact we could still come together from across the globe to be silly and enjoy a game together makes me feel like everything might be alright. I mean, it would still be cool even if these things weren't going on, but the fact they are abd socialization is becoming more difficult than ever, it's cool to see an alternate means of that in action.
I can't believe I took no pictures of her super straight houses, ugh, if I go again, I will have to, they are literally perfect.
And the weirdest thing about all of this to me is how included i feel in all of this. We're all on a small AC discord together and it seems like a lot of them have maybe known each other a while. But unlike a lot of other places it doesn't feel cliquey to me. I've always been welcome to come to their islands, and they have always been very courteous when any of them have come to mine. They act as happy to see me as they do anyone else. And I've only known them a short time so it would usually feel strange to call them "friends" but it doesn't. Now obviously they could feel differently but if they do they don't show it. I am incredibly grateful to have found them. I really couldn't ask for a better group of people to play with.
I actually was invited from this tumblr. Likely after I made some kind of post about not feeling like I belonged in the AC community or something similarly emo and whiny, I'm sure. So I am surprised I was invited at all, but I am so thankful I was. It was just what i was looking for in the AC community.
(Yes! I learned cherry blossom umbrella! Balloon hunting is going fairly well considering I only had like two of the cherry blossom DIYs total before I started and now in about an hour I've doubled that.)
I do have some facebook friends and such I have play AC with, and I am also grateful for them as well of course. It has brought us closer together and I am thankful for that. I have one friend who we constantly send each other gifts like if we accidentally got two of something or a DIY we already have or just if we think something is cool, it's really fun. I enjoy mail as much in game as I do in real life.
But yeah, I was nervous when this game first came out that I would be stuck playing just with my sister. And don't get me wrong I love playing the game with her, we always have a good time. But sometimes you need socialization beyond your own family and I really saw this as my one chance to connect since I'm not very social, I am very anxious, and I just struggle with these things. I may have been right about it being my best chance at connection because I can hide a lot of the awkwardness in game. Very thankfully though, I found people who accept what I can't hide in game. And who accept me. For some reason that's just been really hard to do. Every community I am a part of I feel like an outsider until now. But yeah, I am looking forward to a continued friendship with these people and continuing to enjoy the game moving forward.
I guess I've rambled enough. I still need to get more balloons, but I can't write here forever. Though... I frequently do write far too much here and I wonder if it get read. If it doesn't I don't blame ya. But yeah. I will leave you with this adorable pic I took while Marina was singing... you can't really tell she was singing, but still, she's adorable either way.
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(And don't you love this dress? I have it in I think 4 different colors, I just love it.)
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Sick Kids
gotspoons: [A chatroom/forum situation for teens with invisible illnesses/disabilities, a resource that is recommended when you can't go to IRL groups for your health/they aren't in your area etc] gotspoons: Ticked one whole thing off my to-do list today, feeling like a champ 💪 also feeling like a 2-hour long nap, who here relates? 🥱 tigerbalm: 🖐 took my nap earlier & yet 😴💤 brainpain: 💕🛏 brainpain: long lasting relationship with my memory foam mattress gotspoons: There is NO limit on the number of naps necessary to make it through the day tigerbalm: or the number of abandoned to-do lists, what was your 1 thing? gotspoons: 🚿 looks like breakfast will have to wait tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: @brainpain I have so many memory foam pillows in every room of my house I'm basically a shareholder 🙌 brainpain: @tooexhaustedtolivevicariously same but I've got my fave, I call him Edgar tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: 👏🙏 thank you for your service, Edgar tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: must name mine, only named the chariot 🦼 Charlton gotspoons: [ihatemyguts has entered the chat] gotspoons: A newbie, welcome! tigerbalm: 👋 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: love the username, what ails ya? tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: because this is the only place it's acceptable to ask 'what's WRONG with you?' but not the only place you encounter it, right brainpain: but you don't have to answer cos it's also somewhere where you're encouraged to 'express yourself' translation: be an arsehole if you want brainpain: if you don't go hardcore enough to get blocked brainpain: @fibrofog LMAO tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: the normies get to be rude as their default, and it is NOT encouraged to hit people with your cane, let me tell you ihatemyguts: Hi, everyone ihatemyguts: I'll do my best not to be an arsehole, even if my problem only lie directly above said orifice, which makes it a struggle not to be at times ihatemyguts: UC, first flare totally fucked over the family holiday 😬 sorry to that hotel toilet and my long-suffering parents and brother brainpain: newbie got jokes AND comedy timing ihatemyguts: 🚽 humour isn't all I have, I swear, though my life now does revolve entirely around the porcelain throne so it's no surprise I'm anally expulsive, thanks to Freud for that read tigerbalm: Freud's the perv, am I right? ihatemyguts: Totally ihatemyguts: and a big believer in the cocaine cure-all, which my Doctor just wasn't going for, shame tigerbalm: sounds like my sleazy uncle in every way tigerbalm: why does everybody get one? gotspoons: 😂 This chat is worth keeping my eyes open for gotspoons: every family is a play, and we're destined to be the 'sick kid' part gotspoons: other players react accordingly, from the 'can't look at you without crying' to the 'thinks you're making it up for some reason' brainpain: I vote we all go off script like @fibrofog 🤬🚨👿❗️ ihatemyguts: I guess I'm lucky in the sense that if anyone doubts the legitimacy of my illness, I can offer to show them the contents of my stomach/toilet bowl ihatemyguts: that shuts them up relatively fast, not had to go full 🐒 and throw it at anyone yet ihatemyguts: though I'm intrigued by the infamous @fibrofog, who are they, where, and why the infamy? Fill a girl in brainpain: the myth, the legend brainpain: so angry cos I turned 'em down for a romantic rendezvous ihatemyguts: No way! ihatemyguts: I'm glad that napping isn't the only action the memory foam is getting ihatemyguts: we're just like any other teens, right guys? 💁 tigerbalm: @brainpain you know the rules, fedora pics or it didn't happen! tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: you know what they say about disabled chicks, grateful 😉 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: #dontkillmeladies #iamnotasleazyuncle tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: don't think Mr. Fog was even a legit 🥄 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: total predator tigerbalm: if it was my uncle I'm SO sorry 😂 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: family who piggyback are THE worst tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: no, MY disability doesn't make YOU automatically WOKE for not drowning me in the tub or throwing me off the nearest high place I can access ihatemyguts: Honestly, I've never felt as simultaneously popular and unpopular in my life ihatemyguts: people 💬 a big acceptance game on the socials ihatemyguts: but no one wants to actually hang with the girl who can't eat shit and will spend half her time in the 🚽 gotspoons: Everyone's supportive until your disability gets in the way of THEIR perfect life even slightly gotspoons: imagine if they were one of us 👽 brainpain: speak for yourselves, my slurred speech makes me a hit with all my hard partying peers brainpain: get weird without a 🍹 ihatemyguts: hey man, don't let us drag you down 😎 ihatemyguts: if @fibrofog was feeling you, you're WAY too cool for this chat right now brainpain: never have, never will, baby 😉 brainpain: [inandout has entered the chat] gotspoons: OH MY GOD, that's a whole different story...my parents = you need to socialize more, live life! my parents = I don't know if this group is good for you, we think you're being encouraged to display and give in to even more problems gotspoons: thanks guys, you're literally making me more disabled with your disabledness 😂 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: It is a cult, well-known fact, leave your productiveness to society at the door and let's all lie here and feel sorry for ourselves, doesn't that sound like fun, kids? 😈 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: and 👋 sup, inandout, not seen you in a while tigerbalm: my parents act like y'all are catching too! Would you like to cage me like a legit 🐅 or? inandout: baited breath inandout: out living that life like @gotspoons parents want tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: It'll be the Olympics next tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: 🥇 Hero status with the normies, inspirational, dude inandout: if it'll make adults I've never met proud of me ihatemyguts: I can't believe I've not checked if I'm disabled enough for the paras, oh my God ihatemyguts: are there enough of us for a basketball team? brainpain: if ONLY my former lover were here brainpain: he's gotta be so tall ihatemyguts: Pining for @fibrofog is productive, yeah? ihatemyguts: can pine from my throne just fine brainpain: hands off newbie! I will throw mine brainpain: LOL imagine gotspoons: This group has always had a bias towards too many girls gotspoons: it's almost as if even disabled boys don't wanna talk about their feelings gotspoons: what say you @tooexhaustedtolivevicariously and @inandout? 🤔🤴🤴 inandout: I'd bring friends but you know us CF kids aren't allowed to congregate inandout: and what could I possibly have in common with someone who doesn't share my disease ihatemyguts: So, what is the deal with that, are some of us catching? ihatemyguts: 🐅 parents might have legit concerns inandout: cross infectious but only if you've got what's got me inandout: none of you do so you'll need another reason to turn down hanging out in person tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: my fedora is in the wash? inandout: Fibro could easily say it's my jewishness brainpain: but it's your hunkiness, babe 💪😉 inandout: I'd whistle back at you, Lauren but.... inandout: let's just say you leave me breathless tigerbalm: No names, Zach tigerbalm: it's like a rule ihatemyguts: uh-oh ihatemyguts: if you had a name, Tiger, in theory, like ihatemyguts: 🧐 tigerbalm: Robyn ihatemyguts: Pretty, you others may as well just come out with it now ihatemyguts: even if I'm a massive perv with mad hacking and tracking skills, I pinky promise I won't be able to find you from your given name alone brainpain: give us yours, newbie ihatemyguts: I will, but you'll think I'm giving you a fake one ihatemyguts: it's the gift and curse bestowed upon me at birth, along with potentially dodgy genetics brainpain: your life is 💩 brainpain: but still ihatemyguts: Zelda ihatemyguts: a reference I'm sure you won't get, 'cos you're so 😎 brainpain: I game, the stream was fibros fave hunting ground brainpain: no 💩 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: Turns out being a nerd is way easy from the relative (barely but beats death, yeah?) comfort of the memory foam tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: and Rich 👍 only in name, destitute until my next pittance comes in tigerbalm: she's not supposed to 🎮 -headaches -dizziness -light & sound sensitivity but she's a REBEL brainpain: 👌 MOM maybe I'd love a seizure, what do you know? ihatemyguts: I respect it ihatemyguts: gonna be fondly reminiscing over all those dirty, evil trigger foods when they're resecting my bowel 🖕🚔 brainpain: I had a life before I had a TBI, no offense to 👶 Zach inandout: none taken gotspoons: You're all being bad and I cannot support it 🤐😜 gotspoons: and I'm Rosie, I will just 😴 out on you all the time and yes, it's a fantastic excuse for when you don't wanna respond ihatemyguts: I'll commit all of those to memory in a normal, non-creepy manner ihatemyguts: but whilst I'm allowed to be a n00b, what do you all do for school? brainpain: I was nearly done before 🤯 which got me my pity pass ihatemyguts: pity with a point, at least, alright tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: I'm waiting to start uni, absolutely no thanks to my school and their totally ableist refusal to make reasonable adjustments for accessibility tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: but fedora or not, I can be a real arsehole, a loud, persistent one at that tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: take my applause now brainpain: 😍 brainpain: take my 💘 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: as long as it's not heavy, m'lady brainpain: you could 💔 brainpain: hold the pieces tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: 🧠 just isn't poetic enough brainpain: you know me gotspoons: you guys are so cute 🥰 and your broken brain is beautiful, Lauren gotspoons: me though, I'm barely struggling through school still, so many sick days, so much catching up to do 🥱 just thinking about it and therein lies the problem tigerbalm: my parents are trying to get online classes set up but my headteacher is like a million years old inandout: is he a demon? inandout: that was some scary fiction brainpain: or was it? brainpain: cue up those sound effects tigerbalm: if we're gonna talk about hypnosis, I'm out ihatemyguts: that was some serious creepy uncle vibes ihatemyguts: why did he need that level of control ihatemyguts: 🐘 in the room tigerbalm: I have a hippie cousin too, alternative therapy talk is so triggering ihatemyguts: I need a memoir re. your family sitch immediately 😂 ihatemyguts: you get the food purists coming @ me as if I just eat the right thing I'd be 'cured' tigerbalm: I'm working on a screenplay but I've never written a script before, I did find an online class for that easily though ihatemyguts: that's actually 😎 ihatemyguts: soz, Lauren brainpain: she's our lil busy 🐝 brainpain: step your game up, Zachary brainpain: supposed to be you, bro inandout: let Robbie have it, she has more sick days to fill up ihatemyguts: always have your 🥇 inandout: I can pin it on like a star when I got to school with the masses inandout: let them know I'm not what normal looks like ihatemyguts: only the others like you need to have the scoop on that though ihatemyguts: really fucks with the segregation in a big way inandout: “I feel like someone breathed new air into my lungs. I am not Abnegation. I am not Dauntless. I am Divergent.” ihatemyguts: Tattoo idea inandout: if I make it to 18, I'll do it ihatemyguts: how long you given yourself there? inandout: I turned 14 in may, the party was a full blown rager inandout: 🏥🎂 ihatemyguts: you like ruining events too? ihatemyguts: what a coincidence, don't just do family holidays inandout: if I can't blow up 🎈 nobody can ihatemyguts: 🥳 smug bastard inandout: I find that party blower offensive inandout: Rosie! That's a strike for the new girl ihatemyguts: Come to me when it's as culturally iconic as 💩 ihatemyguts: my next (first) tattoo right there inandout: how long are you waiting for that masterpiece? ihatemyguts: was 14 in March ihatemyguts: if we both make it, it's a date inandout: cool inandout: way I'm going that'll be my first one brainpain: now I feel like a pervy OLD uncle brainpain: thank you 👶s ihatemyguts: Lemme guess? ihatemyguts: I'm thinking 19 brainpain: spooky brainpain: I'm an Aquarius if anyone cares ihatemyguts: our 🌟s aligning might be too close to alternative for comfort tigerbalm: I'm a cancer, which is awkward tigerbalm: not my diagnosis ihatemyguts: at least it's memorable ihatemyguts: literally tacked on at the end, who's remembering 🎣 tigerbalm: I hope my 16th will be, for the right reasons tigerbalm: I've still got 5 months left to plan ihatemyguts: 🤞🤞🤞 tigerbalm: I'll add your name, the others know they're all invited ihatemyguts: that's so nice ihatemyguts: considering this introduction has given away nothing if not I am a terrible guest brainpain: another chat about online safety, Robyn, REALLY? 😏 brainpain: did my failed romance teach you nothing? ihatemyguts: if that isn't a challenge to send a photo and make you feel really weird ihatemyguts: why are we anon anyway, to stop us uprising? ihatemyguts: metaphorically if not literally, no offense xoxo brainpain: f it brainpain: I need you all to sign up to my stream to pay my bills anyways brainpain: [a selfie] ihatemyguts: @fibrofog, I get it brainpain: don't flock to tell me how sexy I am, that'd make it weird brainpain: plus, I know tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: I picked an awkward time to check back in tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: Rosie falls asleep and anarchy reigns? tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: I'm proud brainpain: 💔 YOU haven't showered me with compliments, but hey tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: if I made it that easy you'd never be 💘 brainpain: 😩 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: to save any of the rest of you following such a hard act tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: [pic] tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: it's old but still a rough estimation of what I look like on a good day brainpain: 😍 brainpain: You're up, girl Z ihatemyguts: if you're all good looking though, I'm so mad ihatemyguts: [a selfie] ihatemyguts: 💩 inandout: I'm not good looking, I'll go next inandout: besides, Robbie would never bow to peer pressure and Rosie is out for the count inandout: [a selfie] tigerbalm: I am 🙀 tigerbalm: but everyone else has tigerbalm: [the shyest selfie of all time] ihatemyguts: 😻😻😻 ihatemyguts: seriously ihatemyguts: representation done us dirty on so many levels now ihatemyguts: when we're not invisible, why we not so gorgeous tigerbalm: there should be a blushing 😸 tigerbalm: that's the representation I need ihatemyguts: Call me out all you need but I was convinced this whole thing would be a lot more tragic than it has been inandout: tragic Tuesdays are a thing brainpain: no they are f-ing not brainpain: Zachary, just cos the new girl's in your age bracket + shares your 1st initial brainpain: she is not corruptible to you inandout: check us on our date, Lauren inandout: but watch your profanity brainpain: watch me give you a DIY lung transplant gotspoons: Excuse me gotspoons: what is going on here brainpain: nothing babe, it's all a dream gotspoons: 😖 gotspoons: if it was, none of you would be here gotspoons: sorry to say brainpain: we love you too brainpain: hit us with that sleepy selfie gotspoons: You know we aren't meant to give out personal info in the public forum gotspoons: if you choose to privately, that's okay though gotspoons: also I don't look any better for my shower now 🥴🤫 brainpain: you're a hottie gotspoons: 😘 gotspoons: well, my blog IS going to be featured on [insert disability awareness news moment] next month, so it isn't as if you couldn't find 🖼 if you really wanted gotspoons: [photo] tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: Congrats, Ro tigerbalm: a genuine 👏👏👏 tigerbalm: I love your blog gotspoons: Ty, ty 🙇 gotspoons: it's the same as my username, if you wanna check it out, newbie 😄 brainpain: but have you been on the news for being the victim of a violent crime? 😏 just me LOL inandout: Lauren's trading on her fame again inandout: let Rosie have her moment ihatemyguts: pass along all relevant info and I'll 🤓 right up brainpain: @inandout 🍒😃💩👅 brainpain: enjoy the profanity, bro inandout: today's highlight tigerbalm: Zelda could take offence at that, Zach tigerbalm: I think it was nice to meet her ihatemyguts: Not at all ihatemyguts: though it's cultural appropriation to use that emoji without my permission, I'll let it slide 😉 ihatemyguts: nice meeting you all too tigerbalm: I really am gonna have to tell you about my family now ihatemyguts: All I wanted, tbh tigerbalm: everyone else knows this but my parents are white Americans & they adopted me and my brothers who are Native and African American respectively tigerbalm: & you saw me, the Korean girl so ihatemyguts: Ohh tigerbalm: it sounds like a show that should air on ABC family, right? tigerbalm: hella awkward ihatemyguts: I'm brainstorming (p. sure we're not meant to say that, soz) titles rn ihatemyguts: inappropriate question alert, verbal smackdowns appreciated if needed ihatemyguts: did they adopt you knowing you were disabled or is that a new development? tigerbalm: I was gonna call it building bridges but we can't really say that the USA has wronged Korea like the other nations tigerbalm: though they did adopt me knowing so maybe it still works 😄 ihatemyguts: it's got legs tigerbalm: 🦿 ihatemyguts: Ugh, must dash ihatemyguts: 🩸💉s tigerbalm: best of luck ihatemyguts: 💕 total pro by now 💪 brainpain: if I don't 👀 you on my stream I'll 🔎 you here in the forums inandout: a threatening goodbye inandout: can't compete tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: 👋 Hope to see you back here, Zelda tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: though you wouldn't be the first person to 👻 after dropping in, so no pressure, @Lauren gotspoons: but actually, we're always here, some of us more than others, but you'll always find someone to chat to about the things you can't with non-spoonies ihatemyguts: ✌
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