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#as usual if anyone has any questions or ideas of their own just send me an ask 👍
wundrousarts · 7 months
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Morrigan's Dream
In Chapter 29 of Hollowpox, Morrigan wakes up from a dream:
Morrigan woke the next morning with a start, her heart racing. She’d been dreaming of something strange and awful—broken glass and plumes of black smoke and a distant cry in the dark. Two button-black eyes shining at her from the shadows. A snatch of song she couldn’t quite remember. A feeling of something precious, slipping through her fingers.
There are two prevailing theories on what this dream could mean.
It's related to what happened with Morrigan's mom
It's related to the Courage Square Massacre
I think there's equal evidence for both, I'm going to tackle this from the Courage Square angle and then the mom angle, because why not. Both are very plausible.
Let's take it step by step.
Possible meaning if it's related to the Courage Square Massacre:
broken glass and plumes of black smoke and a distant cry in the dark
Whatever this is, this is clearly a scene of destruction. The broken glass bit is pretty straightforward. The black smoke could be from fires, or it could be from some Squall creations, like the Hunt of Smoke and Shadow or his "army of monsters." The distant cry is also fairly self-explanatory, and could be people crying out as they're killed, or outrage at the betrayal.
Two button-black eyes shining at her from the shadows.
Squall. That's it. Who else has been explicitly stated to have the same "button-black eyes" eyes as Morrigan?
A snatch of song she couldn’t quite remember.
This could be a Wunder-summoning song. From who, is the question– by Squall, or someone opposing him?
A feeling of something precious, slipping through her fingers.
Life and it fading (or also possibly Wunder as well, but also in the context of dying).
Possible meaning if it's related to Mog's mom:
broken glass and plumes of black smoke and a distant cry in the dark
Again, a scene of destruction, with the same possibilities as mentioned above.
Two button-black eyes shining at her from the shadows.
Still likely to be Squall's eyes because of the "shining from the shadows" bit, but I do wonder if Mog gets her eyes from her mom, or if the black eyes are a uniquely Wundersmith thing.
A snatch of song she couldn’t quite remember.
The classic trope of a mother singing a lullaby that the child barely remembers. Maybe, if Squall is here, this is connected to how he recognizes Mog's Nocturne song? (I think that's at least partially due to it sounding like his song, but that's a theory for another post.)
A feeling of something precious, slipping through her fingers.
Mog losing her mom or her mom losing Mog. Or, again, just an abstract way to talk about death/life leaving someone.
Surrounding context in Hollowpox
I think it's interesting to note when in the story this moment takes place. It takes place immediately after people are chanting at Mog once they've found out that she's a Wundersmith, and immediately before Mog wakes up with her Inferno imprint. I feel like, regardless, it's related to her being a Wundersmith.
So, perhaps it's a memory of the Courage Square Massacre, passed down from those who came before her? If this is the route, perhaps she'll uncover more to the moment as she masters more Arts.
Or perhaps it's a memory of what happened to Mog's mom? If this is the route, perhaps it's an early manifestation of Mog's powers. Additionally, though, it raises the question: was Squall there, and if so, why?
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theta-walti · 29 days
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Shy
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Summary: R and Lucy are in love but both scared that the other won’t like them back. The team send Lucy to convince R to go to team bonding and ended up her confessing her feeling to R
Warnings: none
A/N: First time Writing Lucy bronze! I really liked writing her! Feel free to send in more requests!
Word count: 1.5k
Every day is the same. You wake up at 6, take a shower, do yoga, make breakfast, and drive to training at 9. You have a routine, and you like to stick to it. You're always on time, never early, never late. When you arrive at training, you walk straight into the changing rooms with your headphones in and start to get changed. Your cubby is just next to Mapi and Ingrid's, and they know not to talk to you in the mornings. It's an unspoken rule that everyone knows: you don't talk to anyone until training starts. If you have extra time, your teammates will often find you sitting in your cubby, reading a book. To you, it has always been like this, and it will always stay like this.
But today feels different somehow. As you go through your usual routine, there's a lingering feeling of unease in the pit of your stomach. You can't quite put your finger on it, but you feel like something is going to happen today, and you don't like that feeling.
When you arrive at the training grounds, you follow your usual routine and head to the changing room to get changed. The atmosphere seems normal, or at least you think it does.
You start to get changed, with your headphones in, unable to hear the discussion going on in the room.
"Do you think she's gonna show up?" Patri asks, sitting in her cubby and trying the laces on her boots.
"She has to; it's team bonding night," Pina answers, glancing at you. You don't notice her; it's like you're in your own little bubble.
"Do you think she knows it's team bonding tonight?" Patri shoots back with a raised brow.
It's true; you're famous for skipping any team bonding nights or gatherings on the team. Usually, you just stay at home and read, no matter how your teammates beg you to go.
"I think she knows, but I bet she'll just say no like last time or the times before," Ona chips in as she ties her hair in a ponytail.
Just after Ona finishes her sentence, you take your headphones off, and the changing rooms become quiet. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion at the silence; usually, there would be chatting, and the room would be full of noise, but somehow, it's quiet today. It adds to your suspicion that something is happening today that you don't know about. Unknown to your or Lucy, your teammates had set up a plan to confess your feelings to each other, theor plan was to send Lucy to ask if you are going to team bonding night and hopefully you two and talk and sort out your feeling with each other, unknown to all of this you just flashed Lucy a smile and walked out of the changing rooms. Their plan was in place. The first step was convincing Lucy to go ask you if you wanted to go to team bonding night. They all shared glances before someone spoke up.
"So, who's going to ask her?" Patri says, sitting down as they still have some extra time before training starts.
"She'll definitely say no to me," Aitana claims.
"Me too." "And me." "She'll say no to me too," the rest of the team agrees.
"That means we need someone that y/n trusts enough to say yes to," Mapi says, looking around, lost in thought. Next to her, Ingrid notices something. "Lucy has been awfully quiet."
Lucy's head shoots up at her name. "Sorry?"
Patri and Pina start to smirk as an idea comes into their heads.
"You're going to ask y/n if she wants to go to team bonding tonight," Pina speaks up among the two of them.
"No, I'm not. She'll say no, just like the other times."
"How would you know?"
"Why am I the one who is doing it?" Lucy asks, trying to avoid the question.
"Because you're the one she trusts the most," Ona exclaims.
"No, I'm not," Lucy argues back.
"Yes, you are! You two are so close; you're practically in love! It's so obvious," Aitana says, crossing her arms.
"I'm not in love with y/n."
"Oh, don't pretend I'm blind. I see the way you look at y/n, and I see the way y/n looks at you," Patri says, crossing her arms. "In fact, we all see the way you look at each other, plus you spend more time with her than any of us do."
"No, I don't! You can't prove that!" Lucy says, trying to defend herself by denying it, but deep down, she knows that she has fallen for you. Hearing that you like her back, her heart skips a beat.
You and Lucy always partner up together on training days or sit together on the bus. You always put your head on her shoulder when you feel sleepy; whenever that happens, Lucy dares not move and only wakes you up when the bus stops. She's the one who calms you when you're freaking out. You are the person that's on her mind 24/7. So she's pretty sure that she's in love. She is just scared that you like her back.
"I have so much evidence," Patri chuckles as she shakes her head.
"So are you going to do it, Lucy? Are you going to ask her if she wants to go to team bonding tonight?" Frido speaks up, the first time in the changing rooms today.
"Yeah, I do want her to come tonight after all. I'll try my best. If she doesn't come tonight, it will not be my fault," Lucy warns as she starts to walk out of the changing rooms.
Step one done, now on to step two: talk to you and make you realise that you are in love with Lucy.
Ona slipped out of the room silently and went to go find you. She knows that it will be pushing your boundaries. You don't talk to anyone before training starts. Hopefully, you won't get mad at her after this.
She found you jogging laps around the field slowly, she waited till you reached to a certain point of the field and she joined in
"Hi" she said, a bit nervous of what's going to happen
"Hey Ona," you answer back politely while you continue to jog
"You alright?" Ona was really bad at this. She did not think beforehand of what she was going to say, so now she's just stuck at an awkward moment between you and her.
"Yea," you stop jogging and turn to face her. "Is there something you need?"
Ona stopped too as she spoke up, "Are you going to team bonding tonight?" She already knows your answers are going to be no. But maybe she can open the conversation like that?
"No, sorry, l'm busy tonight" you words come out your mouth mechanically, like you have answered this question lots and lots of times before, you have! Hence your reputation on the team.
"Lucy's gonna be there tonight. Are you sure that you don't want to go?"
As Lucy's name has been mentioned, you raised your eyebrow. "What has Lucy got to do with all of this?"
Ona thought for a while. She really hadn't prepared for this. "Errr, maybe you guys can talk? And have fun?"
You got more amused by the second. "Are you saying that you want me to be there because Lucy is there?"
"No! I'm just saying that, errrr, maybe because Lucy is there, you wouldn't be awkward!" Ona exclaimed. The sentences were just on the top of her head, rushed.
"Maybe not, me and Lucy are just friends, l don't think she wants to spend the night with me by her side, anyways, she's got Keira, didn't she?"
Just friends? Nooo, you and Lucy are not "just friends." You guys are practically in love every time you see each other.
"No, Keira isn't coming tonight, so Lucy is all alone, so you should come. Don't want her to be all alone now, do we"
"I don't think she even likes me enough to want me to be there, just leave it, Ona." You are in love with Lucy, of cause you are, and you know that, but Lucy is always with Keira. You know that they were close as they went through England EUROs win together, Lucy will always be closer to Keira than you will ever be to her. You bet that she doesn't even like you that way. Maybe it'll just be another silly like your other ones.
Just ad you, the conversation finished, and Ona left you alone. Lucy spots you on one of the benches on the field, looking sad, she desided to make her way over, a concerned expression on her face, unknown to her the sad emotion was just caused by the subject of her just moments ago.
"Hey, are you okay?" Lucy asks, her voice gentle as she studies you.
You offer her a small smile, trying to push aside your own worries. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just
 a bit under the weather and not feeling like going out tonight." Knowing it is team bonding night, you felt a bit shy. You don't want to go out. You just want to stay home after a long day of training.
Lucy's gaze softens, and she reaches out to gently squeeze your hand. "I get that. But hey, maybe it'll be good for you to get out and have some fun."
You nod, but the knot in your stomach only tightens. Despite Lucy's reassurance, you can't shake off the feeling of dread that has settled over you.
As the team begins to gather for training, you find yourself retreating into your shell even further. You focus on the familiar routine of warming up and getting ready, avoiding eye contact with anyone around you. But then, just as you're about to slip away into your own thoughts, Lucy appears in front of you, her presence impossible to ignore.
"Hey, can I talk to you for a minute?" Lucy asks, her voice hesitant but determined. Maybe she finally wants to say what she held off in the changing rooms?
You nod, feeling a mix of curiosity and apprehension bubbling up inside you. "Sure, what's up?"
Lucy takes a deep breath, her gaze meeting yours with a newfound intensity. "I
 I just wanted to say that
 I really like you. And I'm scared that maybe you don't feel the same way."
And as you stand there, hand in hand with Lucy, all your fears and anxieties melt away, replaced by the comforting certainty that you have found someone who understands you like no one else ever has. From that moment on, you know that nothing will ever be the same again.
Your heart skips a beat at her confession, and you feel a rush of emotions swirling inside you. "Lucy, I
 I like you too," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.
A relieved smile spreads across Lucy's face, and she reaches out to take your hand in hers and leans in closer. "I'm so glad to hear that. And hey, we don't have to go out tonight if you don't want to. We can just stay in and be together."
You blush and look down, but Lucy gently tilts your chin up to meet her eyes, and your face turns even redder. "Can I kiss you?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. You simply nod, and as your lips meet, it's a short but absolutely magical kiss. You grin as you pull away.
"Come on, let's go back before the others wonder where we've gone."
As you walk back to the field with Lucy, your heart is filled with contentment and happiness. Aitana sees that you're back and starts to approach you.
"So, are you coming to team bonding tonight?" she says with excitement in her voice.
Upon hearing the question, you smile softly and look over to Lucy, who is now talking to Alexia.
"Yeah"
A/N: l hope you enjoyed this! I love Lucy Bronze and will definitely write her again! Thank you for the request! This is Theta signing out! See you next time!
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clu-ven · 1 year
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Kissing the Bad Batch to escape from the Empire (with Rex and Cody!)
(I know the title is kinda confusing but just go with it for a second)
1.9k words ! suggestive (mainly with Crosshair) !
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Looking back, when Cid said this was an “easy job”, you should have known better than to believe her. Apparently the simple supply pick-up was in a crowded city where everyone would be too busy with their own problems to even notice the Batch. In fact, the job was supposedly so easy, that there was no need to send the whole squad, just you and him.
What Cid failed to mention was that this particular planet had recently been seized by the Empire, with patrols of TK Troopers constantly on the streets, armed to the teeth and waiting for the likes of you. Thankfully, you’re able to pick up the supplies but just when you think you’re safe, a patrol of troopers comes into view. You need to think fast, knowing if they see you or his very recognisable face then you’re both screwed.
“Trust me?” you ask in a hushed whisper.
He nods his head and before he can question why, you pull him in for a kiss

HUNTER
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It’s like it happens in slow motion for Hunter and yet he’s still surprised when your lips touch his. He sees you getting closer than usual, your feet rising to your toes as you lean up. 
At first, he doesn’t quite believe this is happening. He knows why you’re doing this, that this will perfectly cover both of your faces but there’s a small part of Hunter that wonders or well, hopes that maybe there’s another reason.
The instincts he’s been trying to ignore for months finally come to the surface and Hunter leans into the kiss, a small groan coming from his throat as he does.
Afterwards, he stays close to you, his breath ghosting your neck. Hunter doesn’t want to move away from you just yet, wanting to linger in your scent for a little bit longer. 
Staying close to you helps ground him too. Since this is a pretty crowded city, you’re like a safe space for Hunter, making him feel secure as he listens out for the heavy boots of the TK Troopers or the crackling of any nearby comms going off.
Hunter doesn’t want to let this moment go but he doesn’t want to make this a big deal or turn it into something it’s not.
Despite any clear indications you give him, Hunter is still doubtful and so you’ll have to bring it up if you want to be anything more than friends.
TECH
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It takes Tech a few seconds to analyse the situation but he’s quick to conclude that this is, in fact, a considerably effective method of escaping the TK Troopers.
Resting his hands on your hips, Tech manoeuvres you so you’re completely hidden, his back being the only part visible to anyone walking by.
He doesn’t necessarily relax into the kiss, too busy trying to listen out for any passing soldiers while thinking of another possible escape route if you were to potentially be caught. 
But Tech’s a great multitasker, making sure to make the kiss a worthy one while listening out for the enemies and trying to figure out a plan B, C and D. As much as he wants to get lost in this kiss, he knows this isn’t the time nor place.
Tech takes this in his stride, not letting the kiss distract him completely. Once you eventually break the kiss, Tech cautiously looks out to make sure the coast is clear. After all, there’s still a mission to be completed and until you’re both back at the ship, danger could be around any corner. 
“That was an excellent idea,” Tech praises, giving you an approving nod “the generalised uncomfortableness of interrupting a kiss is something many nat-born, TK Troopers will feel, often preferring to ignore the couple than interrupt them
 yet another reason why they’re inferior to the clone army but that’s a conversation for another day”.
He doesn’t want to dwell on the kiss, preferring to immediately friendzone himself for you in the hopes of avoiding any miscommunications or awkwardness. 
WRECKER
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Wrecker isn’t really shocked, he’s more confused. With your lips on his, you can basically hear him hum a muffled “huh?!” against you.
Although he has no idea what to do while you’re kissing him, Wrecker is quick to melt into the kiss, pushing his confusion to the side and wanting to simply enjoy the moment. 
Honestly, he’s just happy to be here so he lets you take the lead. Wrecker keeps his hands down by his side, letting you make any other moves as well as letting you decide when to break off the kiss.
Wrecker doesn’t want to be the one to pull away, wanting to savour your lips on his while he can. Hell, if you keep kissing him for the next half hour, Wrecker has no problem staying here and doing exactly that. 
“What was that for?” he asks when the kiss is finally over, a wide grin on his face. 
Expect everyone to know about this when you get back to the ship. Even if Wrecker tries to keep this to himself, he can’t, needing some advice from his brothers on what to do next 
(and there’s a part of him that wants to brag about kissing you).
ECHO
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A million thoughts race through Echo’s mind. Are you doing this to evade the troopers
or is there a part of you that’s been waiting for a moment like this? While his body freezes for a few seconds, his lips thankfully begin to kiss you back.
He’s very respectful, not trying to deepen the kiss or make any potentially risky moves. The last thing Echo wants to do is overstep a boundary.
Suddenly Echo finds himself paranoid about things that have never crossed his mind prior to this. Are his lips chapped? What does he do with his hand? Would it be weird to hold your waist? He doesn’t get to the answers of those questions, as the kiss comes to an end all too soon.
When you pull away from him and check to see if the troopers have moved on, it takes Echo a few seconds to kick back into gear, his brain foggy with desire. 
When you both begin the walk back to the ship, Echo keeps you in the corner of his eye, wanting to say so much to you but with no idea how.
He knows this is a golden opportunity to confess his feelings for you but every time he opens his mouth to say something, the words get stuck in his throat.
In the end, he decides to swallow his feelings, not wanting to ruin your friendship by confessing his desire to be more.
Even rotations after the kiss, Echo can’t stop thinking about the sensation of your lips on his. His mind keeps trailing back to that moment, yearning to relive it
 but do you want the same thing?
(I know it doesn’t really work story wise but I just had to include Crosshair, Rex and Cody in these too lol!)
CROSSHAIR
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When you kiss him, the first thing that pops into Crosshair’s head is that he needs to one up you. If you think you can surprise him with a kiss, then he’ll take it further, leaning into you until you begin to walk backwards. 
When a wall presses against your back, Crosshair uses his arms to cage you in and further obscure your face from anyone passing.
He doesn’t shy away from the kiss, his tongue teasingly running along your lower lip... but that’s all he does; tease. 
Crosshair likes to tease you, to see if you’ll rise to the bait and take it one step further. It’s like a game you two play and he can’t get enough of it. 
He pulls away first, making you crave for more. Checking to see if the coast is clear, he gives you a firm nod before continuing back to the ship.
Afterwards, Crosshair keeps his cards close to his chest. He doesn’t really acknowledge the kiss, not making a typical sarcastic remark about it but not saying anything pleasant either. 
In all honesty, Crosshair doesn’t know how to feel. He hasn’t felt this way about someone before and it’s weirdly intimidating for him. Crosshair isn’t sure what this feeling is but if you don’t mention the kiss, he’ll go back to his usual teasing self in no time.
REX
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Rex forgets how to breathe. While you close your eyes, Rex’s eyes go wide open, utterly stunned by your actions. His whole body tenses as he starts to process what you’re doing.
Rex has faced many distractions on the battlefield, kriff, he’s even had siths play mind tricks on him and yet this kiss is by far the most effective distraction.
The only thing he can think about is you and how badly he’s wanted this for so long. His hand twitches, wanting to cup your face but he stops himself, not wanting to overstep.
Instead, he compromises with his doubts and simply takes your hand in his.
Rex could never entertain the idea of you and him being anything more than friends during his service to the Republic but what’s stopping you two now? He’s not sure what to do, too many emotions swiftly coming to the forefront. 
Rex has to pull his gaze away from your lips afterwards, completely overthinking each move he makes and being extremely cautious not to make this weird.
He might seem distant when you get back to the ship but it’s not because he didn’t like the kiss. It’s the opposite actually and now he needs to figure out how to approach you about the possibility of you two ever becoming more than friends.
CODY
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This isn’t what Cody expected when you asked him to trust you but he admires your bold move. Usually, he isn’t too eager to show affection in public but since you’re already kissing him, he decides to throw caution to the wind and fully embrace the moment.
He’s quick to follow suit, deepening the kiss as he pulls you flush against him. He knows why you’re doing this but there seems to be a lot of passion in a kiss that’s apparently just supposed to be a quick escape plan.
This can very quickly turn into a mini make-out session, both of you getting caught up in each other. This attraction between you and the Commander has been building for quite a while now and neither of you feel like backing down, the kiss overcoming you both.
Out of everyone, Cody is the quickest to realise you didn’t do this purely to evade the troopers and that there’s more to this. While Cody can be modest and he definitely thinks you can do better than him, he can’t ignore the signs that you may like him more than you’re letting on.
Immediately afterwards, he might seem a little cold but he’s not doing that on purpose. After all, you’re still in immense danger and need to get back to the ship ASAP so until then, Cody is still in ‘Commander’ mode.
When you’re both safe and onboard the ship, Cody brings up the kiss. He knows that if he doesn't talk this out with you now that he’ll just put it off out of fear of making things awkward. 
Cody is determined to find out if the kiss meant something to you and if you feel the same way about him as he does you.
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jamie-leah · 3 months
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Lifeline
Bucky x Reader Fic
Oneshot? Series? You tell me...
Summary: You have a past that you're running from and maybe Bucky can be the lifeline you had no idea you were searching for.
Word Count: 1,809
Warnings: Mentions of physical abusive, Abusive relationship, descriptions of panic attack, rusty writing, fluff
A/N: Thought I would dip my toe back in the water, see how you're all doing? Feel free to tell me if you want more and feel free to make requests. I need to get back into the swing of things!
Next Part--->
Masterlist of Masterlists
It’s been two months, and he still hasn’t found you yet. Despite the nightmares and the hypervigilance, you would call that a win. It’s the longest he’s gone without finding you. Maybe he’s given up? But deep down you know that isn’t the case. You humiliated him when you ran, left in the middle of the night without a word to anyone. There would be questions from the neighbours, friends and family. He would never let a slight like that go, and you know it.  
The bell dings above the door in the diner you’ve been working at since you arrived in New York. It brings you out of your head and into the present, to see Bucky walk through the door. You hadn’t realised that it was that time in your shift, looking over to the clock to confirm that it was in fact nine at night.  
You give him a smile. A small one, but the most genuine you’ve been able to manage since running from your ex almost a year ago now. He returns a full watt smile of his own. A smile you never see him give to anyone else, but you don’t look too deeply into that considering you’ve never seen him outside of this diner.  
He sits at the bar upfront to the counter where you already have his black coffee waiting, “you fancy any food? Kitchen is closing soon”, you ask.  
“I’ll take a plate of fries if there’s any going?”, his voice sending a tiny shiver down your spine that makes your toes curl ever so slightly. You are aware of this growing attraction you have to him since he started to come in here regularly a week after you started. And you hadn’t thought about anyone like that since...well since you started your relationship with Andrew around seven years ago.  
Bucky never said much the first few times he came in. He would just nurse a few cups of coffee at night and then leave but after two weeks like that he caught you on a particularly rough day. You were in the middle of a panic attack when he jumped into action and calmed you down and stared anyone down who might have looked or said anything.  
Since then, the damn broke and while you may have not told him about your ex, you both shared some personal titbits that would probably qualify you as friends rather than acquaintances. And ever since that time you told him you hadn’t had time for a break or a bite to eat, he orders fries and makes you share with him. He feigns that the portions are too big, and he needs your help to finish them off, but you know better. You don’t say otherwise, you’re grateful either way.  
When you place the fries in front of him, he asks, “busy tonight?”  
You shake your head as you pop a fry into your mouth, “not really. It’s always quiet on a Tuesday. How was your day? Save anyone today?”  
Bucky rolls his eyes at you. You had no idea who he was when he first came in. And Bucky still had to spell out who he was and why people stared at him in the diner. You were vaguely aware of superheroes, but Andrew kept you rather sheltered so you never knew who they were or the politics of them all.  
Bucky grabs the ketchup and squirts some on your side of the plate and some on his, “no missions today. You know I’m gone for a while when I am.”  
You sigh, because yes you do know he’s gone for a while when he has missions and its usually the longest days or sometimes weeks without him coming in every day.  
You shrug, “I don’t know, there was that time you saved someone from a car explosion on your way here.”  
You smirk as he groans at the mention of his heroics, “that was one time! I can’t believe that even showed on the news.”  
You throw a fry at his face, “I can’t believe I had to find out from the news! You didn’t say a word the entire time you sat here.”  
You laugh as you see a familiar blush creep up from his neck and blooms on his sharp cheeks, “I didn’t think it was a big deal”, he mumbles out.  
Someone walks in through the door, the familiar bell ringing. You walk from behind the counter as they take a seat at a booth. You squeeze Bucky’s shoulder as you pass by and murmur, “everything you do is a big deal to me.”  
You don’t wait for his reply or even a reaction as you head over to the couple talking quietly. You take their order and head over to the back and shout through to Kevin, “hey Kev, you got time for one more food order?”  
He pokes his head from the back, “sure thing”  
You pass him the slip and turn back to Bucky about to say something when a smash comes from the kitchen. You duck. No time to think, your body reacts on instinct, preparing for the worst while try to dodge the inevitable violence that is always directed at you.  
You stay crouched on the floor frozen in place, trapped in your mind at a time when you burned dinner for Andrew, and he threw places and cups all around the kitchen. Curled up on the floor, arms over your head trying to stop any shards from catching your face. You had to pick a few from your arms when he finally calmed down and left to go to the bar.  
Warm hands reach out to hold your face steady. You didn’t know your body was shaking until those hands held your face. So gentle in their touch you know they can’t be Andrew’s. You peek your eyes open and see beautiful, plump lips moving, forming shapes that should come out as words, but you don’t hear anything. Just rushing in your ears.  
It isn’t until your eyes glide up to the steel blue of Bucky’s that you let the air back into your lungs, the roaring subsiding until you hear his quiet murmurs, “you’re here, you’re safe with me. Come back to me.”  
Bucky feels you return to yourself more as your eyes dart around and your hands come to grip his tightly which are still holding your face. You manage a strangled, “I’m sorry” before your throat closes again.  
Bucky shakes his head, “nothing to apologise for.” 
When your whole body stops shaking, Bucky guides you back to a standing position. You glance over the counter, and no one is looking. They had no idea that your whole world suddenly came to a stop. No idea that you practically broke down over a broken plate in the kitchen.  
Bucky pulls your gaze back to his, “you with me?”  
You nod slowly, still not trusting your voice.  
Kevin puts the plates of food down on in the window without even looking before heading back to the kitchen. You reach out, your hands still shaking to take the plates but Bucky captures your hands with his. He links them for a few moments before placing them back at your sides. He takes the plates and heads over to the table you took the order from and delivers them with the fakest smile you’ve ever seen on his face.  
His false cheeriness is what starts to bring you back to yourself as you raise your eyebrows at his return, “why don’t you ever greet me like that?”  
He laughs, his head tipping back as he takes his seat again, “because you’re special.”  
“That’s what you say to all the girls”, you reply.  
And just like that the incident is gone. Not forgotten though, you don’t miss the way Bucky watches you more closely, the corners of his mouth set slightly lower now that he’s reminded of how broken you really are. He doesn’t ask, and you’re grateful for that. You’re not ready to talk about the monster that you try pretending doesn’t exist. But you never forget either.  
Bucky stays with you for the rest of your shift. He stands behind you like a bodyguard as you lock up the diner at one in the morning, just when the clubs really start getting busy. He makes a point to walk you all the way back to your apartment building and you don’t miss the frown he always gives it.  
You bump his arm with your shoulder, “it's not as bad as it looks, you know.” 
His face scrunches up, “if you say so. Still don’t like the thought of leaving you here though.”  
You bump into him again with a small smile, “careful Buck, some people might think you’ve gone soft.” 
You see his mouth twitch upwards as he replies, “only for some people.” 
You stare into the eyes that are staring back at you. You can feel them trying to tell you something, but you can’t quite understand. Or maybe you don’t want to because it doesn’t make sense. Someone like you doesn’t get to be happy, someone like you doesn’t get someone like him. You’ve never been that lucky.  
A horn blare down the street, as people whoop from the windows. It breaks the spell as you both turn to look with a small chuckle.  
“I better get inside, I’m beat.” You tell him as you point to your building.  
Bucky clears his throat, “Uh, yeah, definitely. I might be gone for a couple of days. A few things I need to take care of but I’m back on your day off...fancy hanging out?” 
The question almost trails off, but his stare remains intense. It dries up your throat as you open it and close it like a fish for a few moments.  
“It’s okay if you had plans, I just thought it might be nice to do something outside the diner and-”  
“I’d love to.”  
“And I was thinking we could- wait, really?” He looks to you as if he’s waiting for the punchline and it makes your heart ache.  
You give him a warm smile, “I’d love to do something. Despite being here for a few months, I haven’t seen much of New York so will be nice to get out with someone that knows it well.”  
His face splits in two to let out a huge smile, “Okay...okay, I’ll text you when I’m back?” 
You give him a nod and a shy smile, “yeah, sounds good. Goodnight Bucky.”  
His smile is so wide you don’t think he’ll be able to get any words out, so you turn and walk into your building, only glancing back once the elevator doors open to see him still stood there, smiling.  
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evilgaygothgf · 1 year
Text
I Know What I Said
Quackity x reader (any pronouns)
Please send in requests!! I’m aching in my bones for things to write please please please
“I’m not looking for anything right now.”
The words repeated in your mind day and night, gripping and tugging at your heart. You’ve wanted to admit your feeling to Alex for the past few months after coming to terms that they wouldn’t just go away on their own. You’ve know him for over a year now, and the feelings only keep growing stronger. “The worst he can say is no,” is what your friends kept telling you, but he’s already said the worst thing in your opinion.
“I’m not looking for anything right now.”
You thought you’d bring up the topic of dating in general to him and try to gauge his feelings before admitting your own first. Kind of just beat around the bush. You thought maybe he’d just come out and admit he had a crush on you and then you could easily slip in how you felt about him too. Or maybe he’d pull the old “well my friend has a crush on their close friend they’ve known for a while but he just doesn’t know how to confess without ruining their friendship” and you could respond with “well he’ll never know unless he confesses, right?” and then he’d confess his feelings and turn out to be the “friend” who wanted to confess the whole time. Just like in movies and fanfics, right? Right? Wrong.
When you brought up the topic he went into a full rundown of how he just doesn’t see himself dating anyone anytime soon because he’s just so busy with his career right now and blah blah blah. As soon as he started talking you had just tuned it all out. His voice was drowned out by the voice in your head telling you to pull it together and choke down the icky feeling in your chest. The unrequited feeling. The only part of his entire response you heard loud and clear was the part you keep hearing play over and over in your head.
“I’m not looking for anything right now.”
Well shit. What do you do now? Respond with a chuckle and a “haha yeah me either”? Cut him off and tell him that he’s wrong and that you’re what he should be looking for? Admit your feeling regardless? Your thoughts were cut off by him asking you the question right back. “Sorry I feel like I really went on for a while. I didn’t mean to unload all that on you. Anyway, what’s your opinion on dating stuff?”
He asked the question so simply like he had no idea why you had asked him in the first place. “Umm,” you started, “well I mean yeah I guess I can see where you’re coming from. I guess I’d feel the same way if I was in your shoes. I don’t know. I guess for me dating is just like something I’m ready for now in my life. Im kind of tired of being single honestly, but hey, you know at least I’ve got you around, right?”
Alex grinned at the end of your last sentence. “Yeah, of course! I’ll always be here as your best friend so you don’t have to feel like a loner,” he chuckled. “But hey, you know if you’re trying to look for someone I’ll be the best wingman to ever walk this earth. And if anyone starts giving you shit or mistreating you, send em to me.” He turned from you and started throwing punches at the air and you couldn’t help but throw your head back in laughter. Alex was such an amazing friend to you and you started to wonder if wanting him as more than a friend was too much to ask in the first place. You were already lucky enough to have him care for you on a friendship level. The words still plagued your mind regardless.
“I’m not looking for anything right now.”
It’s been over a month since that happened and you continued to hang out with Alex like normal. You tried so hard to push your feelings for him down and appreciate the friend you had in him. The two of you had been hanging out all day and at the end of the night, he offered to drive you back home. The car ride to your place was more quiet than usual; void of loud music and laughter. It had been a long and eventful day and you were both exhausted from all you had done that day.
Alex pulled the car up to the front of your place and you reached to the floorboard of the car to grab your things and tell him goodnight before getting out. Before you could unbuckle your seatbelt, Alex’s voice broke the silence.
“Hey. I just
can I tell you something?”
“Uh yeah sure,” you responded as you placed your hands back in your lap and turned your body to better face him in the car.
He looked down from your face to his cup from the fast food restaurant you both ate at earlier as he played with the straw. “I lied. I lied to you and I’m sorry.”
You were too confused to respond as your mind raked through all of the things he could’ve possibly lied to you about.
He started up again, “I know I..well when we talked before
fuck like I didn’t mean to really say-“
“Alex spit it out. You’re making me nervous,” you said in a half speaking and half laughing voice trying to cover up the waver in your voice. Your fingers were already toying with each other as you tried to ease your nerves for whatever was to come.
“y/n I know this is gonna be awkward and I’m so sorry but I should’ve said it then and I’ve been making myself sick trying to think of a time to tell you this.” He brushed the pieces of hair back that were falling over his eyes as he finally looked back up to you. “I know I told you before that I wasn’t really looking for anything but the truth is that I’ve actually been falling for you. So hard. And before you interrupt and ask me why I said what I did, shit, I don’t know. I just..I just freaked out because I wasn’t expecting you to just ask me that out of nowhere.”
“Alex, Im sorry I didn’t mean to-“
“No please don’t apologize I should’ve just owned up to it and told you then because I really and I mean really wish I had. It’s been gnawing at me so bad that I didn’t take the opportunity to tell you. You honestly make me kinda nervous ever since I realized I wanted something more than friends with you.” His eyes dropped from yours again and went back to playing with the plastic straw.
“I make you nervous?” You could help but grin as you said it. You couldn’t believe he actually admitted to being nervous around you.
“Yeah yeah yeah go ahead and make fun of me, whatever, I knew I should’ve left that part out,” he scoffed as he rolled his eyes and sat back into his seat.
“No I’m glad you told me. I think it’s cute.”
“Oh so you think I’m cute?” He sat up straighter in his chair and smirked. “So you like me?”
You rolled your eyes at his sudden comeback in confidence after all the nervous toying with his straw he was just doing moments ago. He always ate up any little compliment you’d given him and you hated to admit you loved it.
“Yeah honestly I’ve had feelings for you for a while, and if you must know, I was actually trying to confess to you back when I asked your opinions on dating but wouldn’t you know, someone cough cough shut me down before I could. Mr. I’m not looking for anything right now.” You said the last part with finger quotes as you playfully rubbed what he said into his face.
He reached up and lightly smacked your finger quotes out of the air while trying to make an obviously forced angry face. “You should’ve just said it anyway. We could’ve been going on a date today and not just hanging out as friends. And then I could’ve kissed you goodnight when I dropped you off,” he wiggled his eyebrows as he said the last sentence.
Your face already started heating up. You knew exactly how a lot of your days spent together could’ve gone if you two had already been dating by this point. You practically thought about it every time you hung out together and every time you laid your head down on your pillow at night.
This time, you were the one to break the silence. “I mean, we still could,” you said quietly in the darkness of his car. “Only if you want to I mean I know we both just now told each other how we feel but I’m okay with-“
Your rambling was cut off with his lips shutting you up. It was just a peck, but as he pulled his head away you instinctively reached up to pull him back in. It was just a series of small closed-mouth kisses, but it was more than you could’ve imagined receiving from him just 15 minutes ago.
You pulled away from the kiss but kept your face close to his as your eyes scanned his. “I can’t believe you lied to me,” you whispered through a smile in the darkness.
“I’ll make it up to you, baby, don’t worry,” he whispered back as he closed the distance between the two of you again.
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grimalkinmessor · 3 months
Text
Okay but Reigen's ability to lie and change masks at will means that he can be literally anyone Mob needs him to be at any given time. And he often is.
I was thinking about this because I rewatched the break-up episode and Reigen's words had always caught me a little off guard when he said all that stupid shit to Mob, because—and yes this is the point I suppose—he's never usually that harsh with Mob. Because the rod isn't what Mob needs, and Reigen knows it, and he usually tries to be the best shishou he can be whilst still lying to his disciple about everything else :'D So I considered Reigen insulting Mob and going after his friends to be largely out of character for him!
But, I realized that the series focuses so much on Mob's inner struggle that we don't get to see a lot of Reigen's. And for Reigen, who has had Mob all to himself for close to three years, the sudden influx of people taking Mob's time and attention would've been highly alarming and disquieting to him. Because for literal years, Reigen was the village raising the child.
Before the series started, Mob and Ritsu were still distant if loving. His parents don't seem to make much of an impact on is life either. And before joining the BIC, Mob had no friends either. He just kind of,,,existed. The only person he could've considered a friend was Reigen. Reigen gives him advice and life lessons like a parent, jokes around and heckles him like a friend, and scolds him when he's being dumb like a mentor. Reigen didn't raise Mob (he does still have parents for that and Reigen has only known him three years out of fourteen) but before canon he did seem to have a great deal of control and say-so over Mob's life.
And yes, again this is bad. It's unhealthy at best. But Reigen's options in the beginning were either fire Mob and send him away so that wouldn't happen, or keep him by his side and encourage him to make friends as they went along and Mob learned more control and social skills from him. The latter might've even been Reigen's original plan once he realized he actually likes Mob as opposed to him just being a random kid. But then, of course :) Reigen gets attached :)) Too attached, even :)))
Enough so that when the time comes and Mob actually DOES start to make friends, Reigen feels deeply threatened. Fondness has blossomed out quite nicely into codependence, and now Reigen—who is also deeply, incredibly lonely—cannot imagine a life without Mob in it anymore. He doesn't like the thought of Mob drifting away. Outgrowing him. So he opens his mouth and puts his foot directly inside, trying to alienate Mob from his friends and secure his spot as top friend dog once again. (Honestly as if there was any question 🙄).
Thankfully, Mob nips that shit in the bud IMMEDIATELY. Because again, he's been with Reigen for the past three years, and other than some of the other bullshit bout spiritual powers, Reigen has been largely very wise and helpful when giving life advice. It was very likely his OWN teachings and words about being wary of being manipulated and conned that helped Mob recognize it that fast.
So Mob leaves, and Reigen...crumbles.
Damn near instantly.
He tries to convince himself that he doesn't need Mob, that he's fine without him and that he never even cared about him in the first place—but later we see that the idea of Mob leaving him for good makes him actually, physically nauseous. That moment in the alleyway, with the moths around the lamp as my witness, was a moment of death and rebirth within Reigen's psyche. Again with the moths there that might be obvious lmao. The singular moth dying there might even be a reference to the fact that only one of Reigen and Mob's relationship problems have been addressed (and somewhat?? solved?? at least in the way that Reigen has acknowledged the need for change in himself on this front).
Idk, I just think it's interesting :3 He was alone in his friendship with Mob for a very long time, and I think he panicked more than made any sort of cold calculated move to be an asshole. He and Mob are similar in that way; they both found someone who needed and understood them, Mob with his powers and Reigen with his tricks and acts, both of them using their abilities for the other's benefit. I love the break-up arc so much, it's so much fun to think about 💖
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tsukimefuku · 1 month
Text
Toxic endeavors
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You and Higuruma are on your third mission, and you save him from getting injured, putting yourself in harm's way as you do so.
tags: Jujutsu Kaisen, f!reader, angst, canon-typical violence.
wc: 2.4K
This is part of my "Jujutsu Partners Canon Divergence AU". A sequence of short stories and random drabbles related to Nanami x Reader x Higuruma. To see the ever-growing list of one-shots and short stories, please visit my masterlist :) 
Disclaimer: these stories are NOT written and posted in chronological order of events. To see where this story fits in the timeline, please check the masterlist mentioned above.
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"How truly relevant is the job of a sorcerer?" Higuruma asked as you both walked down the corridor of a closed school. 
"What do you mean?" You inquired, looking around for any sign of the curse you were both sent out to exorcize. Gladly, this curse had been detected by one of the windows before anyone went missing, which was a rare occurrence. You thought this had already started off pretty good, and all could be smooth sailing from there.
It wouldn't be.
"What I mean to say is that curses spawn cyclically, from what you and other sorcerers have told me, right?" 
"Hm, yes?" You replied, unsure where he intended to lead this conversation. His rants usually arrived to cynical, pessimistic or nihilistic conclusions, though, as you had noticed from previous interactions.
"So, considering curses will always keep spawning, why do we bother sending people to die facing them?" Higuruma finally posed the question. "This is an incredibly risky line of work, after all."
"Because curses don't just disappear, they have to be exorcized. Otherwise, more people might die due to cursed activity."
"From what I could gather, there aren't that many jujutsu sorcerers, and the quantity of people disappearing due to cursed activity has stayed the same, even with Jujutsu sorcerers numbers increasing. I think it's fair to say we don't make a dent" Higuruma replied nonchalantly.
You sighed. "You might have a point. Even so, our job is to exorcize curses, and I don't see a downfall to that activity in and of itself. I mean..." you shrugged, "exorcizing curses is just that, exorcizing curses. Not saving lives or anything of the sort. Getting rid of the literal corporeal manifestation of bad feelings is surely something good to be doing."
He sighed heavily.
"Hey, I like it just as much as you do" you said.
"Really?" He asked.
"Yes. I'm here working for Jujutsu High somewhat against my own volition too. Not the same as you," you remarked, briefly looking at Higuruma, "but trust me, I would rather be doing something else with my time. Maybe even exorcizing curses, but not for them."
That poked just a little at his curiosity, but he didn't pay enough mind to it in order to ask you for further information. Higuruma still felt awkward to be working alongside someone he had nearly killed, and on top of that, from what he learned, had saved his life shortly after. 
"What about this Jujutsu High, or Jujutsu Tech? Why are they in charge of making decisions regarding jujutsu and curses?" Higuruma asked.
"Beats me, I have no idea. What I know is that their headmaster, so to speak, has been building this alongside some very powerful clans for some centuries. That's about it."
He kept silent, and the awkward silence entangled the both of you.
"Let's just get the job done and get out of here" you concluded.
Shortly after, you both heard some noise coming from the floor above, and you looked at Higuruma as he increased the length of his gavel, turning it into a mid-range weapon. You conjured some grenades and kept them between your fingers, walking towards the stairs. The two of you stepped up quietly, and peered up.
Sliding on the ground, there was a purple creature with many tentacles and yellow eyes all over its body. As it moved, its tentacles were leaving some greenish substance all over the floor and walls.
It definitely rang some alarm bells in your head.
However, before you could talk to him, Higuruma had already jumped over to the top of the stairs and was lunging towards the curse, doing something he had been so accustomed to do by this point.
I could kill him myself with my bare hands right now.
Being a prodigy regarding his sorcerer abilities, Higuruma had exorcized successfully multiple high grade curses around Morioka before you found him. So his usual instinct by now was to charge against any found curse without assessing much about the situation. You had already warned him the previous two missions you both went together, having to run around trying to accompany him while Higuruma swung his gavel, tearing multiple holes and wounds on each and every curse along the way. He'd forget, many times, that the thing ricocheted, and almost hit you twice on your last mission.
"For fuck's sake, Higuruma! Wait up!" You yelled, jumping over and running towards him.
"'Let's just get the job done', right?!" He yelled back, swirling his weapon — now his size — to crush the curse on the ground. Yet, before he did so, the curse squirmed around with its tentacles, pinning itself to the ceiling, leaving a green trail of slobber on the walls as it did.
"Be careful!"
You suspected what the green goo oozing out the curse's tentacles might be, and you'd be proven right in just a few moments.
"Why?!" He shouted back, getting ready to propel himself upwards with his weapon. You were nearing him when the cursed spirit flung one of its tentacles in his direction, and you could see  that it was covered in stings, spitting the green substance on its bottom side.
"Get away!" You yelled, as you pushed him out of the tentacle's trajectory. However, it wrapped around your arm before you could pull it back, and the spears pierced your skin, pumping your blood with cursed poison. Another tentacle came down rapidly and whipped your face, leaving a few cuts behind.
You let out a pained grunt before conjuring one of your grenades with your other hand and grabbing the thing that was around your arm, exploding it.
Underneath, your arm was bloody and starting to turn purple.
He looked at your arm and then at you. "Are you okay?"
"Of course I'm fucking not!" You gnarled, feeling the poison pumping through your veins like corrosive acid. You figured you'd only have some seconds before losing control over your muscles, given they were already twitching, so you mustered the strength to summon multiple grenades, throwing some of them upwards with one hand. As the curse tried to do the same move, sliding down towards the stairs you both came from to avoid impact, you threw the remainder of them in its direction, hitting the curse full force with the blasts. It was exorcized in an instant, leaving nothing but some bits and pieces around that slowly dissipated away.
This was the first time Higuruma actually witnessed you using your innate cursed technique with this much power, worthy of a Grade 1 sorcerer from what he had learned, and figured you wanted to end this quickly.
In your previous missions, you had let him beat the curses into oblivion, taking the time he needed to — which was fast, but not this fast. He thought you did so just to let him earn his 'pay', but now Higuruma figured that he had made it impossible for you to fight properly alongside him.
When he put himself in between you and the curses, just advancing without coordinating moves with you, you'd be unable to use an explosion technique like this without seriously injuring him.
Huffing, you tried walking, but your legs began failing you. Your body was about to fall when Higuruma hurried himself to hold you before you did.
"Take me b-back to Jujutsu High right n-now" you said, voice breaking at the burning sensation all throughout your body, as you tried your best to use your RCT to protect your organs, muscles, and bones from corroding or malfunctioning due to the poison.
Using RCT to deal with poison was very tricky, so the best strategy was protection of your own body while it worn out instead of trying to separate the poison from your blood and tissues, which required a super fine control of cursed energy that you absolutely could not do in this state.
He nodded, picking you up in his arms, feeling a pit of guilt forming in his gut. If he had waited before charging in, then maybe this could all have been avoided.
I'm an idiot.
***
"And here you are again, it seems" Shoko said, as she prepped a drip with analgesics while you healed yourself.
You nodded, chuckling softly, feeling every nerve in your body burn painfully in response. You were covered in cold sweat, had your jaw clenched and looked like 2 steps away from perishing. Even with your RCT, the poison had burned some damage through your body, and you knew you'd be facing a gnarly recovery period.
"Yeah, but this time it wasn't completely intentional" was all you mustered up the strength to say.
"I guess that's what people call 'an accident', then" Shoko answered, before she sighed. After she finally inserted the needle in your arm, securing it, Shoko stepped back, and said, "if your RCT starts to run out, let me know, I'll take over so you can rest."
You hummed in accordance, and she removed her gloves, throwing them in the trash before coming out of your room and closing the door. Outside, Higuruma sat, leaning his body lazily against the wall behind him. 
"It's my fault, she pushed me out of harm's way because I was being careless," he mindlessly said to Shoko, "just like every damn thing that brought me here. It's all my fault."
Shoko scoffed, putting one hand on her pocket to search for her cigarettes.
"Feeling guilty is not healing her faster" Shoko said, looking straight at him.
Higuruma was slightly surprised at her comment.
Shoko proceeded, "carrying guilt like that because of some sense of penitence only leads to things like these. People get hurt while you're taking your time reveling in your guilt, acting recklessly. Do better."
Pursing his lips, he looked at the floor, embarrassed for the consequence of his actions. This guilt of ending up harming someone and endangering their life had him finally grasping upon the feelings he had buried deep shortly after killing the judge and the prosecutor.
It felt awful.
It seemed his humanity was slowly being rescued from the depths of his apathetic state, after all.
Both Shoko and Higuruma noticed some steps as someone approached them.
"Where is she? What happened?"
Higuruma heard a male voice and looked upwards, seeing a tall blond man with a blue formal shirt, equally formal beige pants and green goggles. One of his hands was wrapped up with what seemed like a yellow cloth with a black splatter pattern — was it a tie? — and he had a brown leather harness on his upper body, seemingly used to carry something in his back.
"She's stable, and as fine as she could be fighting cursed poison" Shoko replied, finally managing to fish out her pack of cigarettes from her pocket.
"It's my fault. She took the damage to save me" Higuruma said, looking at the man. "I'm Higuruma."
Nanami glared at him, knowing full well who it was. This was the curse user that had endangered your life when you went to take him into custody. Nanami had absolutely no idea why you thought you should save this man from execution, but held himself begrudgingly from making any especially harsh remarks as you tried to help the man.
"Nanami" he answered unceremoniously, still glaring at the other sorcerer. "If you plan to keep working for Jujutsu High in order to ease your punishment, then be considerate of your colleagues. We don't do well with recklessness in the field, as it can get other people killed."
The ratio sorcerer stabbed each word at Higuruma with a frosty bite of anger as he spoke.
Higuruma lowered his head and sighed. "You're right. I apologize."
Nanami scoffed silently. "You should apologize to her, and probably be grateful as well. It seems she might have saved you from many things, and not just from getting hit with cursed poison" he concluded, while getting into the room and closing the door behind him.
"Congratulations, you just earned your first Nanami lecture" Shoko chimed in, while calmly walking away. She stopped, however, and turned one last time to face Higuruma.
"Hm?"
"You should really thank her. She's really doing more than anyone here would do to help you."
"Why, though? Why did she help me?" He inquired, not really keen on asking you the same thing. Coming back into contact with his feelings rather than keep embracing apathy, like he had been ever since killing those people, was becoming increasingly uncomfortable.
Shoko shrugged. "No idea. I think it's because she's the martyr and good-hearted type" she said, while sighing. "Just... Don't be an ass" Shoko stated, right before finally stepping away.
***
"May I come in?" Higuruma asked, uncertain, as he stood by your door after Nanami left.
You rolled your eyes, ready to ask him to leave, but pondered for a moment. Looking back at the sorcerer, you noticed his usual lackadaisical expression had been chipped away, replaced by a somewhat worried frown.
"Fine, come in" you answered, still accompanying him with your eyes.
He walked in and sat on a chair by your bedside, with bated breath, as you glanced at him curious about what he wanted to speak.
You were almost at your wit's end with the man. He had been nothing but an irresponsible, inconsiderate jackass ever since you got his death sentence suspended with Gojo's help. You understood and sympathized with his contempt for corrupt powers in place, being yourself someone carrying such types of feelings most of the time.
However, it got you beyond angry the way he simply disregarded anyone's well-being and efforts when proceeding with the terms of his 'parole'. You were to work together, you were supposed to shepherd him, and even so, all he had done up until this point was endangering the both of you at the battlefield.
"I apologize" Higuruma said, earnestly, looking down.
"Hm. For what?" You inquired, wanting a proper apology.
"For my irresponsibility. And for attacking you the first time we crossed paths. Also for acting in a way in our previous missions that made your job of shepherding me harder than it should be" he said, sighing after. "I’m sorry."
Your anger had diminished, and you took a few moments before addressing him.
"I accept your apology, but you’ll definitely have to do better than you have been doing. Do you understand? I can’t have by my side a reckless, suicidal maniac. It’s a liability not only for you, but for me too."
Higuruma nodded, lifting his gaze to look at you.
"I understand."
"Do we have a deal?" You said, sliding your good hand under the gurney's side support grip for a makeshift handshake.
He took your hand in his, and avoided moving it too much, while he felt his tense body slightly relax as he did.
We have a deal.
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olderthannetfic · 3 months
Note
Hi hi! I have a question and I apologise if it's impertinent but I really didn't have anyone else to ask. I'm new to ao3 and I'm still figuring out how it works. The problem is this- when I look up a character x reader, I'll see the tag included in many works that have oneshots but since it's a side character, more often than not the oneshot for the character hasn't been written and the tag has been there for months. Is it okay to do that or is it tagging something incorrectly? They say they'll write one eventually but they never do, y'know? To me it kind of feels like they're just trying to reach a wider audience but because of this I can't even filter tags and I have to manually search through the book to check if the character is included, especially when the chapters are titled only by numbers :')
Is it okay to tag things in advance like that?
--
Oh boy...
Wattpad refugees do tend to use AO3 "wrong", sometimes in ways that break the rules and sometimes just in ways I find annoying and against typical AO3 culture.
I'm assuming you are coming from Wattpad based on you calling a work or a fic a "book", which is a very, very Wattpad thing to do.
I'm assuming they are coming from Wattpad given the bad behavior you're describing and the fact that they're a x reader writer.
--
So, here's the thing, if you start writing a fic and there's any amount of the actual fic, even if it's pretty short and bad or in a weird format or whatever, it's still a valid fanwork. Most of the time, AO3 leaves it to the author to decide how to tag (aside from a very few things like death threats in the tags or failing to use the required archive warnings).
AO3 won't stop someone from tagging a future pairing that hasn't appeared yet.
--
But "books" of "oneshots" are such an obnoxious Wattpad thing. This is a completely stupid use of AO3 from the "Please send me prompts" part that is usually in there to the way that unrelated fics are smashed together.
It's not against the rules, but it's a crappy use of AO3 befitting of n00bs.
Sadly, old hands at AO3 also make shitty works that are unrelated stories mashed together. They're often a whole set of kinktober fics or something where the trope tags and the ship tags are accurate, but you can't tell which ones go with which ones without searching the whole fic.
We regularly complain about that on here.
--
A much better way to use AO3 is to make a series titled "My x Reader Oneshots" or "All of my kinktober fics" where each separate story is its own work with its own tags.
My assumption is that this person is using the inaccurate tag both to get more eyeballs on their existing work and because they probably take prompts for that ship or something. (I'm basing this on the kinds of things people say on their oneshot books on Wattpad. Maybe they don't actually take prompts since you haven't mentioned it.)
Some people just don't care that they're annoying others and messing up the tags, but I think some actually don't realize how AO3 filtering works and have no idea this behavior is a nuisance.
On a lot of sites, both Wattpad and algorithm-driven social media, unless a post/work is very popular, it disappears out of sight. Even an inaccurate tag doesn't do that much.
On AO3, one is getting a full list of everything with the tag, going back however far. It's a library catalogue for which you should use accurate data. But this writer is probably thinking of tags more as advertising and a way to get their name out there so readers can follow them pre-emptively. They mean to write the ship in the future, so it's not really inaccurate... (And, tbh, if it were a single work and the ship just hadn't appeared yet, I would agree with them even though those are frustrating too.)
--
So no, they should not do this.
But it's not actually against the rules.
I would mute the annoying people who do this.
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moonchildstyles · 1 year
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announcement and sneak peak!!
:)))))) hi guys!!!!
I know ive been taking a writing break for quite a while for while and have gotten a few questions asking when id be back and I finally have an answer!!!
starting on Friday, May 5th, ill be back to posting on patreon with an exclusive fic! I will be posting the first part on Tumblr on Friday, the 19th! It's an au where Harry is a guardian angel who's taking care of y/n and ends up falling in love of course:)))))
It's 6 parts long and I'm so excited to be back with new writing! I also have a Pinterest board up so you can get a good idea of the vibe!
If you feel so inclined to sign up to read this new piece, please wait until May 1st! If you sign up anytime before then, it'll charge you again on the 1st anyway, and I don't want that to happen!! Under the cut I'll leave a sneak peek of the fic, but if anyone has any questions you can def send me a message whenever!!
thank you all so much for being so patient with me and taking the time to read my stuff! A new Tumblr fic will be coming this summer :)
—————
Nonetheless, Harry could still feel his heart breaking as he gazed over her. 
To anyone else, she may have looked like a girl resting after a long day, but Harry knew better. He saw all the signs. He'd seen the pile of dishes in her sink, her hair was thrown on the top of her head instead of her usual braid back, and her book of choice for the evening was a comfort novel she turned to when she was in need of lighter thoughts. Her heart had been broken today. Most likely by her own hand. 
That was the hardest part, Harry thought as he swept across her floor with silent steps. Knowing that she didn't have to go through this if she was just a little kinder to herself. 
Her strawberry shaped diffuser dispersed her favorite blend of lavender essential oil and vanilla fragrance through her room, the scent wafting around him with the help of the span of his wings. Another comfort, he knew; something to soothe the cracks in her heart she was able to ignore for majority of her day until she was left alone with the stars. It was harder for her when the sun went down. 
With her wish echoing in his head, Harry took careful steps towards her bed. The melancholy in her house lingered with every step, his gaze stuck to her face to ensure she wasn't spiralling into any bad dreams. All he wanted was to comfort her. 
That was the thought he had in his head when he sat down on the edge her bed, her legs just behind him, as he tucked his wings close to his shoulder blades. Ensuring he didn't jostle her as he settled on the mattress, he felt his breath seize when he saw the details of her face under the pale starlight. He'd been close to her before, but this was different. 
Her tear tracks sparkled like the stars that lined his home in the clouds, casting pastel shadows over her face with cool blues and purples. The shape of her lips was even more pronounced given the length of her crying; though he didn't care for the cause, the effect was his favorite. Her skin shone like silk; delicate like the lashes lining her eyes, tiny creases and lines that showed that there still were days that made her smile. Despite the fact he was the one with wings pinned to his back, he swore she was the angelic one of the two. 
Breathtaking; that was all that was running through his mind. She was too pretty when she cried, it wasn't fair. 
His hands fisted in his lap as he wondered what it would feel like to cradle her cheek in his palm. Would she be as warm as he dared to allow himself to imagine, or would she be cool and dewy like the clouds above? Would it be such a bad thing to reach out and test his theories? Besides, he knew from the other guardians that sometimes the touch from an angel can help heal the ailments of their charges. While he doubted he could fix everything that was hurting her tonight, maybe he could soften the sharp edges of her broken heart. 
Uncurling his fingers from the fist he had made in his lap, Harry reached out with a tentative hand. 
Harry's fingertips touched her skin first, the warmth of her skin rivalling the sun at that slight brush alone. The pads of his lean fingers mapped the round of her cheek as he skimmed over her skin, his palm coming to cup around her face. She was soft like clouds and smooth like silk, a creamy warmth bleeding into his skin that Harry didn't think could come from anyone but this woman. His fingers breached her hairline, soft baby hairs curling around his digits while the curve of her cheek molded into the ridges and lines of his palm. 
A platinum warmth was felt bubbling under his skin. That had to be what his friends had talked about—the healing touch of a guardian. It may not be a physical pain he wanted to save her from, but he hoped this touch might be able to soothe her some, even in her sleep. 
Looking at her now, under the guise of pale moonlight with his palm holding her carefully, he wanted nothing more than for her to be able to feel the affection he felt for her. She had no idea how cared for and loved she was—even by people she didn't see all that often now that she had moved on her own. She had no idea how much he cared for her. 
What a special girl she was, he thought as he tentatively ran the pad of his thumb over the height of her cheekbone. Half of her wish was about how much she wanted to give love to others, wishing that privilege upon someone else who he would bet would never really deserve someone quiet as divine as her; selfishness didn't even come to her when she was alone. 
His wish was a hope that there was someone out there that could show her how much she was loved. Someone like him, even though he didn't dare linger on that thought for too long. 
He would find a way to make her wishes come true. He knew he would, that much he'd promise even if he couldn't tell her. 
A tiny smile crossed her features as (Y/N) pressed her cheek into Harry's hand. Pride puffed at his chest, his wings spanning behind him as if he could create a shield around their moment. Even if she wasn't aware, at least she could feel the way he cared for her. 
—————
ahhhh thank you sooooo much for reading I really hope you guys are as excited as I am!
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duplicityvn · 18 days
Text
Welcome to Duplicity!
Below you’ll find links to tags and the new itch page (once part 1 releases; tags will be added as they’re posted). You’ll also find some general information about the game and what to expect from here on.
As per usual, this game is a horror romance. It won’t feature any NSFW scenes, but it is not safe for minors. Minors DNI with this blog or the game.
Game Summary:
It’s been several years since you’ve been home, and a lot has changed. After failing to meet the strict deadlines of your former publishing house, your contract was terminated and you were left to fend for yourself. Once a prolific and popular author of romance and adventure stories, you’re now forced to move back home to live in your best friend’s apartment as their roommate. Struggling to figure out the next book in your series, you’re faced with many life-changing events, such as having to go back to work a customer service job you thought you’d left behind.
As you navigate this new chapter in your life, you’ll meet friends, old and new, and perhaps finally experience your own romantic tale
 Just don’t trust everyone you meet.
(potential) Tag List:
#duplicityvn - general tag to encompass everything
#duplicitydevlogs - tag for dev-specific posts like progress and updates
#duplicity asks - tag for asks submitted to the blog
#duplicity griffin - Griffin specific tag
#duplicity tris - Tris specific tag
#duplicity taipan - Taipan specific tag
#duplicity dell - Dell specific tag
#duplicity nina - Nina specific tag
#duplicity savoy - Savoy specific tag
#duplicity riley - Riley specific tag
#duplicity melon - Melon specific tag
#duplicity mags - Mags specific tag
#duplicity all - general tag when everyone is involved in one post
#duplicity lore - tag for lore related to characters or settings
Here’s some potential questions I might get that I’m proactively answering now:
Why was the old blog deleted?
-I had a bad experience in the community and wanted to remove myself from it completely. I also had no idea where the game direction was going. Honestly, it started out with me wanting to make a yandere game with no understanding of what was going to happen really.
Why are you continuing with Duplicity?
-Duplicity originally stemmed from vague ideas about a horror romance I had started writing three years ago. Really, only some of the character names were similar. Once I started to feel like I wanted to come back and resume with development, I knew it needed a complete overhaul. So I went back to that old story and started piecing it together so it would work for a visual novel!
What changed and what can we expect?
-In the original demo, the game’s MC was around 20 years old. This has changed to player preference of anywhere between 25-30. Why? Because I’ve been wanting to see older characters in yandere visual novels, and just in VNs in general. I also don’t feel comfortable writing younger characters anymore. The characters’ ages will change depending on yours as well, which will be explained later. The only characters who have set ages are Mags and Melon.
-Speaking of characters, Sophie is no longer part of the story. I didn’t think about it at the time but I don’t want a minor to be included in this story when she’s not directly related to anyone, like a sister or a niece or something. In her place are several new characters: Nina, Savoy, and Melon.
-The game will be released in 3 parts instead of on a day-to-day basis. Part one will be mostly introductory but lengthy, part two will probably be the longest, and part three will mostly be focused on the endings of each route.
-The game will have more than just Griffin’s route. There are currently 9 endings I’m in the process of planning.
-As of the publishing of this post, everything previously known to the game is no longer canon, except for a few things.
What kind of asks can we send?
-Asks pertaining to the game and its characters and settings are all completely fine. In fact, it’ll probably help me develop the characters even better.
-NSFW asks are allowed! While there might not be NSFW in the base game (still juggling around the idea of a paid NSFW version), I am happy to write little fics if people are wanting them. I love writing, give me prompts!
-Hateful, derogatory, or other such topics that are sent to this blog will not be tolerated nor published. I wish to promote a safe space for everyone, and I won’t pay attention to any negativity.
-Silly and nonsensical asks are also allowed if they aren’t negative in context.
Alright this was long lmao but I hope it encompasses the general idea of what to expect from here on out! I’m not putting myself on a publishing schedule and I will update as frequently or as little as I do. I’m an anxious bean and can only do so much.
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kame-writes · 12 days
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Concerning the media overlords au:
First of all: I love it! Thank you for sharing the idea with us <33
Second: Does Alastor live in the tower with the other Vees? And does Alastor still move into the hotel? If yes, on a scale of one to absolutely how sad/pissed/jealous is Vox after receiving this info?
3. I'd like to imagine Velvette's fingers are constantly itching to get ahold of that handsome deer man, who doesn't know how to dress himself properly or trendy, and give his wardrobe an upgrade. Could you imagine this happening? (Maybe with lots of alcohol involved. So that he would at least temporarily let her experiment with his clothes. Bonus points if she is able to take picture too. Vox would obviously make himself some copies for.. private reasons...) Do you see my vision?? Can you see it??
4. Can Vox convince Alastor to do more audio features within their network? Like podcasts or interviews and the like? Or are they just screams as well? (I recently discovered a podcast about cooking, where each week they talk about one ingredient and explain a recipe with it. I think this would fit Alastor's preferences very well.. tho the ingredients might not be as commonly used now that I think about it... anyhow... now I can't stop thinking about Hannibal and Alastor hosting a food podcast.. oops.. sorry, but not really)
5. You mentioned that Husk still works in his casino, if he isn't needed. Do you have any headcanons for Niffty's whereabouts?
Anyway that's all for now! Have a lovely day/night! <33
p.s. Sorry if this ask is intrusive. For some questions it's pretty clear that I've already imagined something for myself that may or may not fit with your vision of this au. If you feel like I overstepped, feel free to ignore this or send me an alastor_fuck_u. gif :D
Im am very happy to have questions asked! You have no idea how many ideas i have and dont know what to do with xD
I'd love to see other peoples headcanons and ideas for this universe, if anyone does anything for it then please tag me so i can see ^^
This is gonna get long so I've put it under a read more
2: No one is really sure if he lives there or just works there. He HAS his own suite in the tower, but he's not always there when they go look for him, and not being able to find him is very a common occurrence, made more frustrating because he refuses to carry or awnser the mobile phone they forced on him. He hangs around in the common areas like the kitchen and living room sometimes. And if they do manage to rope him into something like a movie night its a huge hassle, because he will insist on a black and white or silent film if he HAS to engage with the tv, and Vel and Val hate those.
The whole top of the Tower is dominated by his large Radio tower though, its slightly seperated from the rest of the building, suspended above it with a staircase/ladder to enter the hatch. Valentino is usually not brave enough to check there for Alastor.
Its the same with the hotel. He does move into his own room there, but goes back and forth a lot, and doesnt have a schedule. Vox tires to pretend hes fine with it at first but often ends up the hotel to be a pain in the ass to Charlie, and getting kicked out by the staff of Alastor. Hes convinced himself that Alastor will lose interest sooner rather than later, and the others just tune out his whining at this point. No one buys it when he claims he didnt even notice Alastor was gone as soon as the Radio Demon gets back to the tower.
3: I may be planning to draw this haha He does let her dress him up ocassionally, he has a few differant suits he's approved of and kept, but does wear his original the most the time. Velvette has a line of 'Vintage chic' clothing that partly started as a way to get Alastor to agree to changing his 'ratty ass old man style' by appealing to clothes that were updated takes on his era. He still very rarely leaves the tower in anything but his own usual attire.
He does on rare occasions allow photos to be taken of him by the vees (and once, later on by charlie, under strict instructions that she keeps it to herself) but no video. And none under any circumstances are allowed on social media. He has blown up a few phones that have attempted, both the Vees and employees.
4: Alastor has agreed to be on a podcast a few times, but its rare, and only if its somehting hes really interested in talking about. It's one of the few modern things he approves of since its just a version of a radio talk show. Same with interviews, he keeps them even more extremly rare, and the mystery of the radio Demon keeps sinners in fear more than him being in the public. Vox always wants him to do more since the ratings sky rocket when Alastor features.
When Alastor has done an interview it is with his back to the camera, and sitting in a large wingbacked stupidly over the top ornate chair, that hides him from being seen, except maybe the top tuffs of his ears and antlers. And he doesnt reveal much about himself when he does. The chair is partly to hide him, and partly to stop the equitment form glitching too much. He likes to pulls faces and makes gestures deliberatly made to make Vox falter and look stupid on camera, since hes the only one who can see him in that chair.
He has teased on his own radio show that one 'lucky' sinner may get the chance to be on both a guest star on his radio broadcast AND a livestream if the mood takes. Valentino had to inform him that what he's referring to is called a snuff film
5: Niffty gets moved to the hotel pretty much full time once Alastor gets involved, Husk is a part time employee, but ends up spending less time at his casino as time goes on.
Valentino is happy Niffty is gone because she creeps him out, she ocassionally hung around his studio during work hours, especially if theyre doing a scene with 'bad boys'. Vox isn't bothered. Velvette is not happy, especially that Niffty is reduced to a maid/janitor for the hotel, and makes that very known to Alastor. Velvette loves Niffty, they are chaos sisters and work on very sketchy sounding potions together, and gang up against the boys.
Niffty is also a great seamstress herself and brings her designs to Velvette like an excited child showing off their latest art project. Almost none of these get used, but Vel has fun forcing models to parade around the studio and work in something Nifftys made, they often include bugs and bodyparts, Velvette finds this halarious.
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Text
Modern Thranduil x anxious reader
Caged birds with broken wings
Chapter 1:
A Dance with tardiness
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Synopsis: An antisocial, anxious writer in her early 20s attends a ballet class under the teachings of a mysterious, reserved, austere dance instructor. They form an unlikely within their solace and past.
Warnings: mentions of blood
Chapter 2
A/n: This fanfic doesn't follow along the lines of the hobbit but rather a loosely spin-off au that only uses some characters. I do not own the right to them as they are Tolkien's characters and I respect his creation. (even if the characters might be ooc). Feel free to comment, reblog and like. Let me know if you'd like a chapter 2.
I tended to daydream often, more so when I listened to the music. The tune and tone of the song that played one after the other sent me to the realms I immersed; typically, anyone would daydream into another realm far better than their own: a princess, pirate, elf, fae—anything. My imagination is my realm of comfort, a sealed bubble that I can freely roam however I wish. Unfortunately, within fantasy, we must face reality. Within my reality, I’m not much of an importance, at least not one to have a whole written memoir about. I’m more of one of those faces you’d pass by in the street or grocery store, not giving any second thought to. Though I’d prefer it that way, I’m not much of a talker but rather a writer; I’m more fluent in my words than my speaking. Every attempt I’ve made, I’ve stumbled or become still; my chest would rise heavily and lower deeply. I always asked how people can do it, how they can speak—talk—communicate like it’s a piece of cake. I’d rather shroud myself in my isolation than speak to another living being.
At my desk, in my somewhat clean apartment, I was planning my next latest story in a saga of 3 books. So far, I’ve managed to get in contact with a publishing company via email who were willing to get behind the idea of a feature-length young-adult romance novel, a romance novel about a pirate king and a fae queen. The first chapter was still relatively underdeveloped, yet I’m willing to spend an entire day finishing it. I had only five months to publish the entire chapters. I’ve been a fantasy fan ever since I was a child. To me, fantasy is what the word impossible turned into possible. For ten years, I’ve been writing, and never once has it stripped me of what I truly adore.  
Whilst my fingers pressed against the keys on my keyboard, I received a text message on my phone from the side of my desk surrounded by papers. It was from my mom, who was wondering about my well-being. As always, I respond with the usual ‘everything’s going well—I’m pumping out new chapters for my new novel, ‘A Puncture in Time’, you know—the one with pirates and fantasy, new chapters soon to come ;)’. Even though she’s smart enough to see through my little façade, she writes back, ‘Hey listen, I know it’s hard right now, but I can assure you, things will get better; it just takes practice; I know you’ll meet someone you’ll find it easy to talk to’. I sighed heavily; within her words, I have faith, yet doubt. Should I choose to believe her, bite the bullet and try to speak up or wallow in a lie that can send her mind at ease? Before I wrote back, she sent a post with a link. I furrowed my brows as curiosity swelled my thoughts, my finger tapped the link. It was an ad. An ad for ballet classes. I thought it odd why she would send me something like this: I’m no dancer; I’m certainly no ballerina.
I replied with a question mark ‘?’.
A message bubble popped up: ‘
’ I awaited her reply.
As she was still typing, I took the liberty of glancing through the ad quickly. The tab loaded with a cursive font in bold ‘Les danseuses se rĂ©jouissent’. Scrolling past the stock images of ballet dancers, I came across a small section of different levels offered: beginner, Intermediate, and advanced. My mind raced with doubt; I had no experience in ballet, at least not since I was a young child. I wondered to myself, ‘Do I really want to take this? After all, I’m not exactly one for groups’. However, my mind was put at ease when my eyes came across an option for ‘one-on-one private lessons’. At least, I wouldn’t be with people who were far more experienced—let alone a group; the thought of many eyes staring at me—would have my heart sink. As I clicked the option, I was astounded; there were no reviews, pictures, or even a description of the instructor. I was sceptical. Surely, if you were to teach a class, you’d have at least a brief introduction of yourself. Even as an author, I have a concise introduction in my publications. I lightly sighed, weighing my options; on the one hand, it’ll please my mom, get me out of the apartment, and keep me fit; on the other hand, despite being private, I’m meeting someone I don’t know. Who knows what this person’s intention is, even if it’s for a class.
Finally, I heard a ‘ding’ as she replied, ‘Please try, at least for me; it’ll be good for your health, and you once mentioned you wanted to be a ballerina. I know the world isn’t always what we want it to be, but I know you can make it shine; I’ve seen it in your novels; give this a chance, give them a chance, to show them how you can shine, because I know you’ll be the brightest star there :).’
My eyes softened as I read every word; I couldn’t deny she had a way of getting through to me. She was always a caring woman, along with my dad. They were the only two people I could speak to without pressure or the weight in my chest.
I pressed back onto the tab with the private lessons. I clicked to see the booking dates—there’s an option to book for tomorrow, and the price is only $45 per lesson. For the price, it wasn’t too bad; yet still expensive. I filled in the details required to send the booking through, yet my finger hovered as I was about to press ‘confirm’. My mind came to a tussle of thoughts and hesitations; this would be the first time, in a long time, that I would speak face-to-face with an actual living being. However, I recalled Mom's words, ‘Because I know you’ll be the brightest star there’.
Breathing in—I pushed it, I pressed confirm.
I did it. I’m going to attend a ballet class. My head slowly lowers onto my desk, surrounded by papers. My hair dangled over my forehead. The adrenaline that reached the height of my mentality came crashing down. It’s like going on a rollercoaster you didn’t ask for, coming from the highest point of the rail down to the pit below. I start to feel light-headed. I want to sleep. I want to stay here. Perhaps I’ve made a mistake. What if this doesn’t work out?
I rose slowly from my desk chair, picked up my phone, and texted, ‘I’ve booked lessons for tomorrow
I hope you're right about this.’
I watched as once more, awaiting her response, ‘
’
‘Oh, I’m so happy, you’ll fit right in, I know it :)’ she texted.
I didn’t respond. She’s pleased, at least.
I decided to call it a night; I’ve had enough pressure for one day. I logged off, cleaned the papers on my desk, pushed them into a neat-ish pile and headed to the bathroom to shower. As I opened the door, I went inside to set down my pyjamas by the medium-small bathtub’s acrylic side rim. My bathroom isn’t big exactly, but neither is it small. It’s moderate for what it was: a bathtub, shower, toilet, sink, and a medium-sized mirror in the same room. It’s not precisely palace material, but it helps soothe my thoughts. I held my hand out as I turned on the shower, feeling the trickling water against my skin. The temperature quickly changed from cold to warm in just five seconds. Once I was satisfied, I stripped bare, sliding my long-sleeved green shirt off and sliding my darker tracksuit pants. I tossed my unmentionables inside the bathtub. I stepped inside the shower, allowing the warm water to run freely down my skin. I shut the shower enough to have a slit entrance still. I grabbed the soap, rubbing it over my skin, arms, legs, and body. I splashed water on my face as the water rinsed the suds away. I hovered my hands in my eyesight, glancing closer at my fingers. I could see the redness and patches from where I’d picked my skin; it’s a habit I developed since childhood. The habit would annoy Mom, often whispering or saying straight, “Stop picking”, even touching my hand to remind me. Unfortunately, this habit hasn’t subsided; I sometimes even look at my skin with little care, picking the cuticles or rough patches.
Once I finished scrubbing my body with soap, I turned off the water and opened the shower door to step onto the bathmat. I grabbed a towel from the single towel rack located beside the shower. I dried my body, running the towel over my skin. As I wrapped the towel around my body, I glanced at my face in the mirror above the sink. They say eyes are the most expressive in emotion. My narrowed, pinkish lips thinned.
I snapped out of my gaze, continuing to slip on my long blue pants decorated in owl prints, then, the next, a long-sleeve top with the basic purple on them topped with a giant owl embroidered in the front area. Owls have always resonated with me, whether it's their symbolism or captivating beauty. I placed the towel on the side of the bathtub’s rim. I picked up my previous clothes and took it into my bedroom. My bedroom was also medium sized, having a queen-sized bed and an oaken cupboard with a mirrored wardrobe. My room was decorated with tiny figurines I’d collect overtime, albeit from movies I’ve fancied or books. I placed the clothes in my hamper basket behind my door. My body relaxed when my eyes lingered toward my bed, the messy, deep blue sheets draped to the left side. I dismissed the thought of tucking them in for the time being, only plonking myself onto the mattress and wrapping myself within the single cotton sheets and doona drifting off.
Dreaming is the easy part, letting what visions came to my mind run wild. Sometimes, it’s suitable for inspiration, but other times, it's nightmares. The imagination is still enchanting, although, this time, it was peculiar. I was in a birdcage decorated with gold; the entrance was bolted shut; my hands gripped the golden rods holding the cage together. I tried to scream but to no avail. I tried to shake the cage, yet I was too small to provoke movement. My body lowered, feeling the coldness of the metal plate below. I had nothing but rosy ribbon pointe shoes. I suddenly felt myself, in no control, rise as though my limbs were attached to strings. I started to dance, my arms and legs stretching to fit the perfect movements. Eventually, I stopped mid-movement, standing on one leg while extending the other behind. I couldn’t move; I was frozen in place. I could do nothing but shut my eyes.
Suddenly, I woke up; my eyes fluttered open from the confusion I had just endured. Rising from the bed, I pondered for a few seconds. ‘What on earth did I dream about?’. My hands pressed against my face, trying to comprehend my dream and reality. I pulled the sheets off me and got up for the morning. A typical morning for me results in the usual routine: dressing, brushing my teeth and hair, and then looking forward to what the day offers me. Until I remembered that I had booked that class. I typically picked out green tracksuit pants with a white singlet, hoping that would suffice. I picked up my purse and headed out the door to my car. I entered inside, placing my purse in the front seat as I turned on the white car. I noticed outside that it started to snow. Snow is beautiful, especially the little snowflakes that fall into your hand and dissolve upon touch.
As the car started, I prepared to drive to wherever it was that awaited me. The location was further from where I lived; it must’ve been at least twenty-eight minutes. The drive wasn’t particularly bothersome for me; when you live in New York, you get used to the traffic.
As I drove, the snowflakes emerged in more significant numbers. Eventually, I found parking just next to the side of a cafĂ©. I wasn’t aware if it was for the staff or guests. However, it seemed empty with only a few cars, so—if I get called out on it, I’ll move my car. No one seemed to notice, so I assumed I was okay. I grabbed my black parker from the back and zipped it up. Exiting the car, I stopped to admire the snow falling for a few seconds. It was January 4th, so the snow season was still here. My hands shoved in my pockets, beginning to wander toward where I needed to be. According to the ad, it was building ‘52’; it was vague, I know, but it was the details given. I trudged through the snow, seeing building after building, until I came across something with the number ‘52’, where I needed to be. My hand gripped the gold-looking handle attached to the glass door. As I entered, I came upon a staircase; I took one step after the other. I quickly glanced at the ad to see what floor it was on, yet to no avail. Was it the ‘4th floor? Oh god, oh god, please don’t resort to me asking someone. My fingers started to twitch; I raised one of my fingertips to my lips, feeling the rough patches. My thumb started scraping off the first layer, and small blood trickles formed. I ran my fingers over my lips again as I trailed up the stairs. I could feel my chest becoming heavier, my mind swell with thoughts of self-doubt. Suddenly, the anxiety soon started to subside as my eyes saw the sight of a door. My fingers hesitantly wrapped around the door handle; I took one breath in, trying to be brave. I pushed it open—only for my worst nightmare to come to life.
My breathing became heavier, my heart sank, my eyelids widened, and I could feel myself hyperventilating. There was a group of ballerinas staring directly at me. There must’ve been at least four? Five? Looking my way! Their ages varied, going into their late 20s.
The one brunette asked in French “es-tu perdu, cherches quelqu’un”.
I couldn’t concentrate; my mind dwelled with clouded thoughts of judgment. I pressed my finger against my lip, trying to feel the rough patches.
Another asked in English, “My friend asked if you’re searching for someone”.
Quickly, my eyes diverted to the ground, avoiding their gaze. “I-I-, pr-viate, less-on”. I stumbled over my words.
“Lessons? Private lessons?” the girl spoke once more.
I nodded, avoiding eye contact.
As I quickly glanced, a middle-aged woman in her mid-forties stepped closer; I assumed she was the dance teacher. “Are you referring to the private dance lessons advertised? the one taught by Mr. Oropherion?”.
I paused for a moment, trying to gather my words. Mr Oropherion? Is he the teacher I’m with?
“I-Is. This. Right. Floor.” I tried to sound out the right words, but it was impossible. Perhaps my conscience was right; perhaps this was a terrible idea.
The middle-aged woman, confused, pointed toward the direction I needed to go. “you’ll need to head up one more level, then head to your right” Her voice was calm with a hint of soprano.
Still avoiding eye contact, I left, not even saying thank you, focusing on wanting to escape. I closed the door in front and let out a heavy breath. My head lowered to touch the tip of my hands. I wanted to melt in that moment; I wanted nothing more than to return home. However, I reminded myself that I was doing this for Mom. I breathed in once more, looking up at the door; my hands quickly released, and I began to walk quickly, edging further up the stairs. My mind came crashing down, feeling the dreariness wash over me. Feeling tired, I finally, at last, came across the door I needed to be. It was blank, the painted white withering away around the edges. My hand reached the doorknob, feeling the roundness, turning it slightly. I could feel the adrenaline kick in. I was hesitant, but my nerves started to build.
I started to whisper to myself, “Just a general hello, that’s all it takes—
You're doing this for Mom—
Give them a chance to show them how I can shine; give them a chance to see who I am because I’ll be the brightest star there”.
 I breathed in, closing my eyes and opening the door. As I tried to force my eyes open, I was confused. There was no one here. It was an empty space surrounded by mirrors with bar beams attached to them. My eyes scanned the room, yet no one was there. I suppose I should be relieved, maybe the teacher had caught a sickness and decided to ditch the whole class. I wandered further inside; I might as well take a quick peek. I unzipped my black parker with a furry hood, tossed it on the coat hanger and took off my shoes, leaving my white socks on. I stood in the middle of the dance room, embracing the quiet ambience. I looked in the mirrors, reflecting my figure. Was this even what ballerinas wear? Who even is Mr. Oropherion? If he doesn’t show up in the next 15 minutes, I’m heading off and not returning.
Perhaps Aelwynn, the fae queen in my novel, would’ve also been able to dance freely and eloquently in movement. I still wonder what would entrance the pirate king Sarek Salazar. I never pictured him to be devilishly handsome, though. I suppose Aelwynn would be a beauty, but there must be more to it—beauty can only go so far in their bond; what would their obstacles or hardships be? Perhaps the fae queen is somewhat intertwined with difference, the opposite of a fairytale. Aelwynn is fair, kind, beautiful and strong; she meets all the criteria for something otherworldly, yet what if Sarek is her opposite, a beast? No—What if he was average, a gross-looking thing? Pirates are anyway; what if he wasn’t powerful, just an average man with greed—and the dynamic changes, challenging Sarek to choose between the love of his life or treasure?
Or he would choose—
Suddenly, I heard a male voice emit behind me: “You best have a thorough explanation, girl. Do not even think about squandering my precious time.”
My breathing became heavier as I realized someone was speaking to me. I did not turn around; I was afraid to. Instead, I avoided eye contact, too paralysed to move. My head stooped low, and my hands stood to the side. He spoke again, “Clearly, you are here for a reason, are you not? I’ll admit your intrusion is rather fatuous.”
I didn’t glance up; I couldn’t look; I needed time to gather the words to explain. What should I say? Hey, sir, some ballerinas told me to come here, and I fear speaking to people.
“I see you have a mouth; that means you must have a tongue. Go on, speak.” His voice was deep and tranquil, composed yet icy.
I took a deep breath in, slowly turning around. As my legs moved, I slowly gathered the courage to look into the man’s eyes, even if I muttered a ‘hello’. It would be enough. As my head glanced up to meet his, I noticed his appearance.
He—was like—something out of a fairytale. His face was lean and chiselled; his eyes were like ice; his blueish-greyish irises complemented his cold gaze. His hair tressed down like water reaching his chest, light like snow. Whilst his skin was pale in comparison, a fair tone in colour. His attire seemed far more affluent than mine, donning a black trench coat with white underneath. His trousers complimented the darkness of his coat, and his black loafers were polished. I glanced at his right finger, an oval-shaped ring with a diamond glass stone crafted in sterling silver.
“Did you hear me not the first-time girl?” his tone turned stern.
My mouth moved, finally finding the words to speak. “H-hello, I’m Y/n”.
 “y/n?” he muttered.
My eyes glanced downward once more as I slowly nodded.
“So, you have a voice after all, pray, tell. Why are you lingering in my domain?” he said shortly.
I muttered “private lessons”, though my voice sounded like a whisper.
“Ah, so you’ve seen the ad; I suppose you haven’t wasted our time after all, although you are five minutes late; I expect punctuality, to be exactly on time at the hour.” His voice sounded stern once more.
Well gee, it’s not like it’s my first time here, and gotten lost. My eyes still avoided his; I couldn’t look up, so I nodded.
He didn't react when I avoided his gaze, dismissing it. However, he commented on something else: “Your posture is lamentable. Stand up straighter like so.” The tip of his finger lightly touched my chin, lifting it to meet his gaze. I didn’t turn away precisely, yet I still flinched. My breathing slowed down as I once more met his gaze. His eyes narrowed, and his lips thinned.
“You stand there like a bird, wounded by the natures of evil, ignorant of the world’s knowledge, caged and sheltered from the shadows that lurk within the realm. Tell me, little bird, care to spread your wings?” I glanced at myself in the mirror, standing straighter. I could feel the flush in my cheeks, but I didn’t say anything, only breathing slowly.
 His finger pulled away, and he turned his back to me, walking away.
“I expect to see you here tomorrow at exactly the seventh hour of the night”.
“Do not make me regret my decision, or you shall return to the cage from where you came, little bird”, He muttered.
With that, he walked out of the room, distancing himself further and further away. At that moment, I stood in disbelief for a few seconds, trying to understand what had happened. However, once my thoughts were collected, I gathered my things and scurried out of there, wanting nothing more than to enter my car. Once I exited the building, I was hit with the coldness in temperature as it touched my face.
I opened the car door, tossing my things in the back, turning the engine on. I looked back, trying to see the building to the left. As I drove, my thoughts were plagued with astonishment. I didn’t look away; I maintained eye contact for longer than three seconds, and—I managed to speak my name without stumbling over my words. My emotions displayed were as if I’d seen a ghost. Yet—his face—his appearance—it reminded me of snow; I always loved snow; even when I was a child, it was the happiest of my memories. I recall when my parents took me to the park; I was fascinated by the sight of the winter wonderland, my face lighting up with delight and laughing with joy. I always find that snow rekindles the fond memories I have.
Perhaps Mom was right after all; this might be the start of something I’ve never been able to do. Talk.
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steddieas-shegoes · 10 months
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Honey, I would like to share it with you if you allow me.
So I’m in love with dancer!Steve au. And the thing is
 I imagined that there is a, I don’t know, secret club similar to Hideout there only dancers and they’re friends allowed to be because they need a place where they can be themselves and safely dance even the most filthy way
 Maybe even Chrissy appears here sometimes and one day The Fruity Four (Three?) kinda find out where Steve disappears
 And Steve dances in the hottest way possible, losing himself on the floor
 He probably dances in Jojo Gomez style

Oh this is SO GOOD. I really wish I could devote time to this one. I am not taking full requests and this is definitely a lot more than what a short headcanon could cover, but I know if I post this, someone will run with it (I'll put some no pressure tags below just so it gets seen!).
But I do want to add to this a little headcanon-y idea: Chrissy takes Robin to the club to show her what it's about and Robin ends up coming out to her when one of the girls who dances there regularly starts flirting with her. Robin is awkward as hell of course, and Chrissy notices, so Robin feels like she has to explain. When she does, Chrissy admits she's been questioning her own sexuality and that's why she visits the club. When Robin sees Steve, she almost passes out. Chrissy hadn't recognized him because he wears makeup while he's there, usually dances with low lights instead of a spotlight like the others do.
Thank you for sending this in! If anyone wants to do anything with this or make any fic recs for something like this, here's some really no pressure tags: @wormdebut @legitcookie @sidekick-hero @wynnyfryd @simplebtromance @flowercrowngods
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use-your-telescope · 8 months
Text
Wow, WOW. It has been... a *hot minute* (cough-sixmonths-cough) since I've shared any real teasers/snippets of my big writing project, WHICH NOW HAS A NAME - that's right, it's no longer going by the working title of "the Trickster!" The fic is officially titled "When Everything's Made to be Broken." Linked the synopsis page, which should link out to the snippets that I've previously posted, in case anyone is like "what was this fic again?" So here we go! I'm getting to a point where even though the story as a whole isn't finished, I might start posting the first few chapters just so I'm no longer sitting on them... The first seven chapters are pretty much done (minus a final read through), and the end is there, it's just the middle of the story that's vexing me. Anyways, this takes place after the other snippets I've posted. Enjoy!
Tag List: @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @thedistractedagglomeration @lokisgoodgirl @simplyholl @mochie85 @coldnique @lokixryss @gigglingtiggerv2 @infinitystoner @loopsisloops @mischief2sarawr @crzyplantladyvibes @buttercupcookies-blog @vickie5446 @the-lady-amphitrite
Send me an ask if you want to be added to the tag list!
Warnings: None. This is on the soft side, all things considered?
Song: Cosmic Love - Florence + The Machine
Word Count: 1,281 words
You Were in the Darkness Too
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Before long, they were outside of Marquette, driving down backroads that made Loki question whether or not his phone’s GPS was accurate. However, when they turned down a long gravel driveway that led to a clearing with a small farm, he received confirmation that he was, in fact, in the correct location when Theo pointed at where to park.
“Welcome to the farm,” Theo gestured to the property around them, her voice and expression lacking any enthusiasm. Approaching a wooden porch, she gestured towards a shed. “In that shed is the portal I usually use to go home; you’re welcome to use it - get home and actually sleep in your own bed.” Rather than move towards the shed, Theo fished a set of keys out of her pocket and started fiddling with the door. 
“Are you not planning to return home for the evening?” Loki furrowed his brow, glancing between the shed and the door that Theo had, by that point, unlocked and swung open.
“I– no.” Theo grabbed her bag from where she had set it on the porch, slinging it over her shoulder. “This is the house I grew up in; I know it’s just as close as New York with the portal and all, but I think I’d feel better if I stayed here, at least for tonight.”
Her rationale was, though not necessarily logical, understandable. The idea of a familiar setting providing comfort made sense. And though he would have loved to reunite with his own bed, the idea of Theo alone still seemed
 wrong.
Why that was, Loki was uncertain.
“Perhaps I might stay with you, then?” Loki blurted out the question. “I don’t mean to impose, however if anything were to happen I think it would be in your best interest to not be alone.”
Theo stilled, mouth hanging slightly open as she processed Loki’s request.
“Loki, you’ve already done so much for me.” She shook her head. “I can’t ask you to cancel all of your plans and postpone going home after such a crazy, exhausting week.”
“You are not asking,” Loki countered, “I am offering.” 
She pursed her lips and peered at Loki. The breeze rustled the trees around them, and in the distance the ebb and flow of waves off the lake provided a wash of ambient sound.
“Um, yeah - come on in.” Theo pushed the door open, reaching in to flick on a light before gesturing for Loki to follow. “But if it’s too much at any point, or you need to go do something, promise me you will go.”
“I swear it.” Loki retrieved his own bag and followed her inside. 
The farmhouse was a sharp contrast to the tower - unlike the modern, minimalist architecture of the tower, he found himself charmed by the quaint, mismatched nature of MĂ©mĂšre’s home. In many ways, the home reminded him of the houses he’d see in Maximoff’s old sitcoms: the furniture seemed to be from decades past, though they weren’t quite as coordinated as on television. 
Photos adorned the walls of the hallway - some old enough to lack color, while others looked as though they were taken yesterday. 
“You can take my bed, I’ll just take the couch.” Theo said, leading Loki into what appeared to be a sitting room.
“You need not sacrifice your bed for me—“
“You just changed all your plans so you could fly with me to a place you’d never been and probably never wanted to visit, all because I was upset about someone you’ve never even met having health problems. Not to mention you just dropped a shit ton of money to change both of our flights, and on a rental car
” She shook her head, turning on more lights as she escorted him through the house. There was a certain sense of relief that came with the realization that some of the fire which Loki associated with Theo had returned. “You deserve a real bed to sleep in, if nothing else.”
“You’ve also worked tirelessly over the previous week, and you carry a great emotional weight,“ Loki countered, “Perhaps we can share?”
Trudging up a flight of stairs, Theo waited until they were both upstairs before replying. “It’s only a queen-size bed, not the California Kings that we have in the tower, so it might be a bit cozy
 but if you’re okay with it then sure.”
“We’ve spent time in far closer proximity,” Loki pointed out, to which Theo cracked a smile and rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, but uh
 I’m not really feeling up to that tonight.”
“It was not something I even considered, given everything that has taken place.” 
“I didn’t think you were, but I figured I would clarify.” She pushed open a door, flicking on the light. “Welcome to my bedroom.”
In the late night, Loki was presented his first chance to take in the room that Theo called her own. Soft, pale yellow walls and sheer white curtains felt familiar - it was a lighter, softer version of the quarters Theo kept at the tower. The furniture here was not remotely cohesive - a heavy wooden dresser sat in the corner, assorted knick-knacks atop it. Above the dresser, a Van Gogh poster was tacked to the wall - a still-life of a turquoise vase with sunflowers. 
In the corner, an acoustic guitar sat. Next to the guitar, Theo’s closet door sat open - inside, a colorful mix of plaid filled the cramped space. The bed was as large as one could rationally fit in the tight space; atop it, a patchwork quilt provided an injection of color and warmth to the room. 
Perhaps this room was a time capsule of her youth, or maybe it became a melding of her past and present - he couldn’t be entirely sure. 
Neither of them wasted any time getting ready for bed - then again, after capping off a long week with a particularly exhausting day, it was a small miracle that they hadn’t skipped pajamas and fallen asleep in their dayclothes. Loki was the first to lay down; Theo quickly followed, shutting the lights off before slipping beneath the bedclothes and settling in.
Loki stretched out as best he could on the mattress, though Theo was right when she said it was much smaller than Loki’s bed in New York - unless he slept with his head touching the headboard or curled up on his side, his feet would hang off the end of the mattress. 
Theo rolled onto her side, facing Loki. Moonlight from the window reflected off her silver hair, casting an ethereal glow in the dark of night. When Loki turned to face her, he caught her watching him.
“You ought to rest, darling.” He murmured, arching an eyebrow at her.
“I know,” she whispered, “I’m just thinking
”
“About?”
“Today.”
Loki hummed. “Would you like to talk about it?”
Theo faltered for a moment, then shook her head. 
“Is there something I might do to help you rest?” Loki leaned forward until his forehead rested against Theo’s. 
“Just having you here helps.” Theo shrugged, “but, um
”
“What is it?” Loki frowned, trying to catch Theo’s gaze. 
“Could you, um
” Theo shimmied a bit closer, stopping just before they touched.
Relief flooded through Loki at the request. He lifted an arm and nodded, a shy smile curling up on his face. Theo rolled over and slid back until her back pressed against Loki’s chest; he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.
“I’m here, dove.” He whispered, burying his nose into her hair. The faint whiff of shampoo, with notes of rosemary and lavender, tickled his nose. “Whenever you need, however you need.”
He meant every word.
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a-sip-of-milo · 8 months
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Is it possible to be aware and have npd? I try to do research on this but all authentic npd sources are buried under so much ableism fhag i get too drained to keep looking after a bit.
I show some symptoms. I constantly have my first thought be that anyone who looks at me has a crush on me, is thinking about me, is captivated by me, and even though I get social anxiety I get upset not being picked first for something like being called on or telling a story or something. I also constantly feel like competing with everyone, and get upset over losing “competitions” that weren’t even happening.
However, after these thoughts, I usually think “well obviously that’s irrational” and I don’t act on any imaginary crushes, competition, or drama that I assume is happening.
I want to bring up this topic to my psychiatrist, but I’ve seen so many sources saying stuff like “narcissists can’t be aware, it’s very rare” or “narcissists never know they have a pd, they may go to therapy though”.
So I feel like by recognizing 1) that my thoughts are irrational or selfish, and 2) that I show symptoms of npd, I don’t really have it and I’m just a self centered person.
Your blog is the only place where I find consistently positive npd posts and debunking of misinformation, so I decided to send this ask, since again it’s harder to find info on places where there’s more likely to be ableism.
TLDR: Would you say it’s possible for me to have npd and be aware of it, or to have npd and be able to recognize and manage my symptoms?
Absolutely. The idea that people with NPD cannot be self-aware is harmful and extremely ableist, and also always encouraged by narcissistic abuse believers who are hell bent on turning the world against them.
Some of my closest and dearest friends are narcissists. All of them are extremely self aware and have gone through a lot of work - some through therapy and others on their own - to learn about and manage the behaviours deemed dangerous by society. This does not mean that they cannot possibly have npd.
A lack of self-awareness isn't even part of the diagnosis criteria. So yes. It is possible.
If you need some resources for those questioning whether they have NPD, you can click on this link:)
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evesaintyves · 11 months
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Ok long annoying question incoming: Whenever I read your remadora stories im always interested in how you portray lupin with his relationship with sex. I always got the feel that werewolves were looked as sort of sexual predators in the wizarding world. I mean the way greyback is written was very creepy, “specializing in children”, wanting to eat hermione because of her “soft skin”, yikes.
Because of that reputation do you think lupin views himself as a sexual predator when he’s feeling just basic lust? Not even specific to tonks, like do you think he has trouble with his feelings of attraction to anyone. How do you think puberty was like for him? How does gender play into this, does he feel like he’s objectifying whatever person he’s attracted to? Would he even have sex before a relationship like tonks? Is he jealous of Sirius and James because they can be more free with their sexuality? Lol so many questions sorry
hi anon! not annoying at all, thanks for sending an ask! i'm always happy to get them, even if i'm not great about answering them in a timely manner (or at all)
tbh i'm not really a meta-writer and i don't usually fw headcanons too much outside the context of developing a story - but here are some thoughts based on the characterization choices i've made in my work. they are entirely speculative; canon has very little to say about how Remus Lupin uses his dick.
TW for sex, violence, sexual violence, wizard porn, endnotes, Moonchaser*, stuff i wrote at 4 am
so to start there are a couple of much better metas out there by other authors that you might like:
@bikelock28 has a really good meta on werewolves as sexual predators that covers this really well and explores lupin's struggle with it.
@ashesandhackles also has a great meta on the psychology of lupin's lycanthropy/marginalization called the gentleman monster
so yeah, i think you're dead on about the sexual subtext of greyback. in canon we first see people disgusted by and afraid of werewolvesÂč and eventually we find out about greyback's notoriety as a child predatorÂČ. Lupin obviously expresses occasional self-loathing in canon, and my take on that is that he's internalized some of the responses he gets from people aware of his status and some generally-held prejudices against werewolves—he pushes back against Harry's assertion that he's a normal person with a problemÂł, he refers to himself as "dangerous⁎**," he speaks of himself as having "tried to live amongst wizards⁔," which to me implies that he thinks of other wizards not as peers but as betters who tolerate him. i think his carefully neutral, people-pleasing, equivocating tendencies are his attempt to build a self around the rejection of whatever people might believe about werewolves.
do you think Lupin views himself asa predator when he's feeling basic lust?
my feeling is that, because of all these ideas he's absorbed about what werewolves are like, Lupin might pathologize and abhor some of his own thoughts & behaviors, maybe even normal/typical ones, and have a difficult relationship with urge, impulse, and desire.
How does gender play into this?
he's a boomer who hangs out with a bunch of bros, he takes a kind of patronizing attitude with Tonks in their confrontation in the hospital wing⁶, and he was written by an author who went on to make gender essentialism her whole entire deal as a person, so i feel like he's probably at least a little sexist. i think, just because it's part of the sexist background radiation we all receive, he probably understands women as vulnerable and passive-receptive in heterosexual relationships - so my thought is that he probably has extra hangups about hooking up with women. i think he'd probably have hangups about any sex where the power dynamic favored him, and there are a lot of things about penetration, exchange of fluids, etc. that seem like they might trigger any internalized ideas about himself as violent, sexually rapacious, diseased, etc.
Would he even have sex before a relationship like Tonks?
I don't particularly headcanon Lupin as lifelong-celibate before Tonks, but I get why some people do and it's fine. My personal instinct is that if he experiences sexual desire, he probably finds an outlet for it one way or another***. I think one of Lupin's specific hangups with Tonks is that she's asking for a relationship, she's asking to love him and for some kind of commitment on his part - I think he'd struggle with those more than he might struggle with casual sex. Not just because of the risks to which they'd expose Tonks; some of Lupin's behavior in canon is pretty self-serving - specifically, self-protective against conflict or rejection⁷ - and I think being in any kind of serious relationship might expose him to an uncomfortable kind of vulnerability. personally, i think that's probably a key factor in his apparent misery in the early days of his marriage and his eventual ditching of Tonks—yes, he was trying to protect her, but my suspicion is that he was trying to protect himself too: from the permanent commitments of family after a life spent moving between places and jobs and societies, from the guilt of producing a werewolf kid, and from all the risks of pain and failure that a relationship would bring.
What would puberty be like for him?
Lupin's relationship with his body seems like it must have been pretty fucked up at baseline so starting to grow face & body hair and get physically bigger (and thus harder to control during full moons at home) was probably kind of rough. early sexual feelings and the realization that sexual relationships are going to be difficult and fraught at best for him probably sucked too
Is he jealous of Sirius and James?
so there's that line in the extracanonical Lupin bio where he says of Sirius "he always got the women." i really hate the incelness of this line, but if you want to consider it canon, then sure. tbh i think most of the Pottermore stuff is kind of trash
there's no interaction i'm aware of between Lupin & Sirius in book-canon that would give me the impression that he's jealous, and Lupin always seems to warmly & fondly remember James so... i think it'd be fine if a writer wanted to try and build a case for this dynamic between Lupin and his friends, but it doesn't resonate with me specifically. honestly, I think it'd be easier to make the case that he had a little crush on James than that he was jealous.
if you've read this far, hi, and also i just wanted to mention that i have a fic coming out in July that explores some of Lupin's struggle with—and terror of—his sexuality so stay tuned if you're into that
*god i fucking hate ship names how about "Rames" "Jemus" "Pupin"
** obviously, a werewolf is dangerous at the full moon and it makes sense to be afraid of encountering one. as a reason not to be in a romantic relationship, though, it suggests to me that Lupin thinks of himself as violent/untrustworthy/impure in a general sense
*** ok new headcanon Lupin is one of those guys with an absolutely massive and meticulously-organized porn collection. i bet wizards could make a pretty dope fleshlight. like remember that care of magical creatures book that's just like a weird hairy animal mouth? okay i'll stop
Âč PoA, pp. 336-337
ÂČ HBP, pp. 334-335
Âł HBP, p. 335
⁎ HBP, p. 615
⁔ HBP, p. 333
⁶ HBP, p. 615
⁷ PoA, pp. 345-346; OoTP, pp. 719, 721
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