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dcxdpdabbles · 3 months

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DCxDP Fanfic idea: Wrong Number

Bruce prides himself in keeping all of his networks secured. If he didn't make it himself, he had the funds and connections to get him the best working on his systems.

He had backup plans in case the systems were ever hacked, of course, but he had yet to encounter a cyber attack that wasn't beaten away by his firewalls or his team.

Babs and Tim were far more feral when booting out unwanted guests. The level of protection was also transferred to his other systems that weren't Batman-related, just to make sure the connection between Bruce and Batman was never made.

That's why he never really checks his personal phone's caller ID, not the one he gave out as Brucie Wayne, but the one Bruce used for his real life without any masks- civilian or vigilante. The only ones who had the number- and the access- were his children and Alfred.

Not even the Justice League- those who were aware of his identity- knew of this number.

Bruce is in the middle of typing up a report for the next Wayne Board meeting when his personal phone rings. He figures it's Dick giving him a call to update him on his drive home or maybe Jason, as his son was planning on going to college.

"Go for Papa Bruce," He says, knowing his kids hate his phone greeting and doing it deliberately to spite them.

There is a long pause where he can't help but smirk thinking his child is either rolling their eyes or cringing too hard to properly speak. Eventually, a voice cracks over the speaker.

"Hello. I'm selling cookies to raise money for my own star. Would like to buy a box from me?" says a boy, not one he has taken in. The voice is young maybe not even double digits yet. Bruce is alarmed.

"Who are you?! How did you get this number?" He demands, yanking his phone to his face and seeing, with a chill, a phone number out of state.

His system had been compromised. By a child. By accident.

"My name is Danny!" The boy chirps. "I sell cookies. Like the Girl Scouts, but I'm a boy, and I don't scout."

"That's rather fantastic, lad. What kind of cookies are you selling?" Bruce asks to keep the boy on the line while sending an email blast to the others. It's a string of numbers that are code for compromise so they all know to close any communication channel until it's safe to get back on.

"Chocolate chip. Mint Slim. Oatmeal and peanut butter. I made them myself!"

Right. Bruce hooks up his phone, tracing the call. The signal bounces off the call, swinging up to a salute and falling back down to earth. In seconds he has the boy's location. It pings in a small town right outside of Star City.

He sends Barry a private message. His friend is already on the way to the location. He'll get the boy in a few seconds.

"How much for a box of chocolate chips? Those are my favorite." Bruce tells the boy, voice whimsical as his Brucie persona demands.

In an unsure tone, the boy pauses, then whispers, "I don't know. No one ever let me get this far."

"How about twenty for a box of dozen? I'll buy five boxes for each of my kids that live at him," Bruce tells him, and the boy gasps.

"That could buy me one whole night in a hotel!"

Bruce's insides freeze. What did he mean-

"Hey! No! Let go!" Danny suddenly screams. Bruce's heart launches- he hates it when kids get hurt, especially those that sound like Danny- until Barry's voice comes over the speaker.

"I got him, Mr. Wayne. Thank you for alerting the Justice League Hotline." That's code for This is not a threat to you Batman and Bruce allows himself to relax just a little.

"Narc!" The boy shouts, outraged, before the call drops. Barry is likely taking over the situation, which means Bruce can leave it in his capable hands.

After reassuring his kids that he is fine and that they are all safe, he suits up and meets the Flash in the Watch Tower. There, he learns that Danny is only seven years old and has been living on the streets for a while.

The boy had been surviving by baking some cookies to sell on the side of the street- where did he bake them? The boy would not say- until he got the bright idea to try to sell through phone calls like he had seen on TV.

He punched in random numbers at the community center phone and gave his pitch about a star, thinking people would be more willing to buy from him if he had an excellent reason.

Barry had left him with CPS, but he looked devastated about that. It turned out that Danny was a meta and had likely been kicked out of his home once it was found out based on what he said of his parents.

Bruce felt he should assure Barry that Danny was fine and look into his placement to help settle his more sensitive teammate's nerves.

He was unhappy that Danny was not in a good placement; there were far too many reports from a concerned neighbor to make him think it was a safe place. Given the fact that placement had a lot of meta kids that "fell through the cracks," Bruce worried he had just stumbled across a trafficking ring.

He would sick Barry and Jason on them. Just to ensure they wouldn't see the light of day again.

Still, that did not fix his mistake with Danny, the little cookie seller.

Bruce hacked into the system to move Danny. He thought about where he would move the young child but ultimately had him in Wayne Manor.

Just until he could confirm that he would be safe. He certainly didn't think about the adorable little boy who called him with his heart in his hand and got sent to a terrible place for three weeks because of Bruce.

Danny arrived at Wayne Manor with a happy little bounce and a chipper outlook on life than Bruce was expecting. "If it isn't Mr. Narc!"

God, he going to adopt the boy, isn't he?

(Danny has been thrown into a different universe, aged down to a child. He survived by overshadowing people into letting him spend the night baking cookies.

He was thrown into a somewhat typical home, but the nosy neighbor down the street took far too much notice of his overshadowing, and now he was being moved again.

Maybe he can terrorize Mr. Narc now instead? )

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Danny de-age #Dimension travel #Crack #Basically He overshaowed people and everyone lost their minds about it #Barry will fight Bruce for Danny #Danny will make it his life goal to be Bruce's life hell

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mysicklove · 23 days

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Toddlers are known to look at their caregivers to see how they should react when they trip and fall. Even if the stumble of their wobbly legs doesn’t hurt them, in many cases, they will still cry if their guardians fuss over them. Although, if the adult doesn’t give them a time of day usually the little beasts get up and go back to playing with their friends.

This phenomenon is pretty common for the toddler you raise. The small child seemed to master how to react during certain situations depending on who is watching him, you or his wicked older brother.

The three of you go to the park where Yuuji runs around the playground, letting out giggles and squeals when Nobara and Megumi play tag with him You somehow drift off on Sukunas shoulder on a nearby bench, closing your eyes and slumping against your boyfriend, content with the fact that he has his eye on the reckless child.

As to be aspected, Yuuji, after being warned very harshly by his “doting” brother to go slow when going down the steps of the playground, ignores the caution and sprints down the stairs only to miss a step and fall straight to the bark. It wasn’t a hard fall — his legs collapsed beneath him, and he landed on his knees with a plop. No harm, no injuries, mostly just shock of him falling a couple feet into the bark.

The first thing he does is look toward you, unconsciously questioning if he is about to cry out from the pain so that you can pick him up and coddle him. But he can’t catch your sleeping gaze and instead finds himself face-to-face with Sukuna.

His brother only raises an eyebrow at him, shaking his head as if to say “i dare you to cry right now”. The two of them make eye contact for longer than necessary, silent communication, and Yuuji sniffles, gulps, and slowly gets up before going back to playing.

The elder Itadori puts his hand in front of your eyes, blocking out the sun from disturbing your sleep and continues to watch his younger brother walk much more carefully up and down the playground. It was good to not coddle the boy; Sukuna didn’t want Yuuji to grow up spoiled; he was to be a man, strong just like him.

But of course, Sukuna happened to be raising him with you, a person with the biggest soft spot for the child. And so when you wake up from your nap, and Sukuna calls the boy over to leave, you notice the tiny piece of bark sticking out of the boy's leg. It was surface level — Yuuji didn’t even notice it, but still, the image looked much more gruesome than it was really.

You gasp and begin to fuss over his “injured” leg, asking the boy if he tripped and fell if he was hurt at all if he was okay. And suddenly, to Yuuji, it seemed that maybe that fall did hurt a little too bad. Maybe he wasn't okay like he thought.

Tears begin to well up in his eyes.

“Don’t you give me that shit. You’re fine. You tripped like five minutes ago, and I know it didn’t hurt.”

Yuuji shakes his head, ignoring his brother and rubbing his eyes while he looks up at you. “O-Owie…” he whines, rubbing at his knee.

“Poor thing, did you hurt yourself? I’m sorry baby, I wasn’t watching.” He reaches his hands up to you, and you scoop him up while he begins to cry into your neck.

It was a fake cry, obviously enough. It makes the elder Itadoris mouth hang open. “You little liar!”

“Don’t be mean, Sukuna.” You say, teasing him because you realized quickly enough that the boys “cries” didn’t produce any liquid from his eyes. You didn’t mind spoiling the boy either way.

Sukuna, realizing you also understood, lets out a dramatic groan, shaking his head before exclaiming, “Why am I surrounded by weaklings?!”

You just laugh at him, thinking about to a few years earlier during highschool. Sukuna was the one who would dramatize his pain whenever he got in a fight. You would listen to his whines (after he profusely exclaimed that he won by a longshot) over a busted lip and a black eye while you would fuss over him, just as you are doing to Yuuji.

He got into a lot of fights during highschool because Sukuna could never get enough of you fretting over him. He liked when you played nurse and coddled him, way too similar to the way you cooed at Yuuji.

The two of them, although Sukuna would never admit it, are way too similar. Both are strong and independent boys who happen to turn into whiny, attention-seeking puppies when you are around.

#big brother au #idk why i wrote this #just this was in my head for some reason

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rileyslibrary · 6 months

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(Can i just say i love ur work, i too read them like bedtime stories, u perform a great service to humanity my good comrade)

Also, could i request perhaps Reader needing to go undercover for a mission and getting a bit too close for comfort with some baddies and thus making Ghost worry? He’s certainly not jealous by any means tho, of course not! Nope. Not jealous at all. Not even a smidge.

He is tho. He’s jealous. In his own Ghost way.

Thank you for your kind words, nonny and sorry for being so late!

Reader is an undercover tourist in Paris for this one. No warnings, other than a pretty sulky Ghost. More A/N at the end.)

———————————————————————

He hasn’t uttered a word since you returned to your temporary base. No “good job,” no “well done,” no “thank you for risking your life for the team.” Nothing. He didn’t even stick around for the debriefing. Instead, he stashed his gear in his locker and headed straight to the kitchen.

Usually, after a high-stress operation, Ghost would go to the kitchen to make some tea. Yet, the way he went about his business today seemed more like he was about to sharpen his knives than brew himself a ‘cuppa’.

There is a reason he’s upset, though, and you know it. While you are always prepared to risk your life for the team, your latest actions were pretty... out of character, so to speak, and Ghost took notice of that.

You stare at the closed kitchen door, wondering what’s unfolding behind it, how he feels, and whether he can communicate it without lashing out.

“Maybe it’s best to give him some space,” Price advises, narrowing his eyes. “You did a pretty risky thing back there; no reason to push your luck.”

“A whole kitchen’s worth of space, Captain?” you retort. “I’ll evacuate if things take a turn for the worse.”

“Call for backup if you can’t handle it,” he winks at you. “And don’t tell him I did that,” he says, pointing at his closed eye.

You smile at him, and push open the kitchen door. Ghost sits at the table, his back turned towards you, hunched over a cup of tea. He has his balaclava draped over his right thigh and his gloves on the table.

“Your hair is a mess.” You tease.

You reach to fix the stray hairs hanging over his forehead, but he pulls away from your touch. You lower your hand and go for the kettle instead. This will be much more difficult, you think to yourself.

“Coffee?” You offer. Although you know he’d refuse, you feel it’s a good way to break the ice.

Yet he doesn’t reply. Instead, he reclines on his chair and stirs the tea with a metal spoon. With your back turned to him, you pour the preheated water into your cup, add coffee granules, and cool it down with a gentle blow. The clinking of the metal spoon against the ceramic mug continues until it suddenly stops.

“Are you alright, mademoiselle?” He mocks, with a fake—and quite terrible—French accent, mimicking the enemy guard who “rescued” you when you dramatically pretended to twist your ankle in front of him.

A chuckle escapes you, and you turn to face him, leaning against the kitchen counter. He keeps his gaze fixed on his cup.

“I had to buy some time for Soap and Gaz, Lieutenant,” you explain. “They were inside that safehouse, gathering-”

“Intel,” he interjects. “I was there too; no need to rehash it.”

“The guards were dangerously close, sir,” you press on. “There was no time.”

He shakes his head. “No time doesn’t mean dropping to your hands and knees like a coquette, bawling your eyes out, waiting for a French knight in shining armour to come and save you now, does it?” he spats.

You raise an eyebrow. ‘Coquette’? You? He knows damn well the fall was staged, the tears were fabricated, the vulnerability was an act. The fall did hurt; otherwise, it wouldn’t have been believable. But shedding tears over twisting your ankle? No way. You’ve endured bullet wounds in the past, for heaven’s sake, and barely flinched. Ghost knows that. Yet, he looks more…

“Jealous, Lt.?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart.” He murmurs, scratching his forehead.

“Say what you want,” You shrug. “But you must admit: it was a pretty convincing fall.”

“Yeah,” he replies. “Nothing says more ‘convincing’ like kissing the cobblestones of Paris.”

“Alright,” you say, leaving your cup on the kitchen counter. You cross your arms in front of your chest and nod upwards. “What would you have done, then?”

“Shoot him,” he responds, his black-painted eyes shifting from the cup to you. “That’s why I was up on the rooftop, remember?”

“What’s the point of going undercover if you’d eliminate the threat like that?” You persist. “And in a public place like that? Come on, Lt.!”

He pushes his cup to the side, places his hands on the kitchen table and stands up.

“Have you ever thought of what would have happened if your cover was blown?” He asks, raising his voice. “How was I supposed to protect you if you were right in front of my bloody target?”

You keep staring at him, his last words replaying in your mind.

How was I supposed to protect you…

You look at your mug on the counter; the steam from the coffee is almost gone. It must have been transferred onto him instead, you think to yourself. Might as well let him blow it off. Let him vent.

“I know how to protect myself, Ghost.”

He sits back on his chair and brings his tea closer, shaking his head.

“You should’ve waited for the signal.” He says. “We’ve got a plan for a reason.”

“I understand, s-”

“Falling in front of the enemy, letting him scoop you up like a fucking princess in agony, removing your shoe, fetching you ice from the coffee shop wasn’t part of the plan.”

A smile threatens to escape your lips, but you suppress it. You turn your back to him and pretend to clean the counter. There’s no reason to anger him more.

“Sir,” you begin. “What is the problem here: me not following orders or letting the guard run to my aid?”

“I don’t care about that French prick touching your ankle.” He murmurs.

Well, seems that ‘French prick’ touching you bothered him as much as you not following the plan. You stop fake-wiping the counter, grab your mug and turn towards him.

“I apologise, sir,” you say. “It won’t happen again. But you could have voiced your concerns in a less... abrasive way.”

“Wasn’t the pavement abrasive enough?” He snaps. “What’s next? Are you going to cry over it?”

You click your tongue and approach the table, extending your hand for a handshake.

“Alright, enough,” you say. “Let’s make a truce and end this right now.”

He remains still, looking at you. He finally reaches for your hand, but instead of shaking it, he twists it so your palm faces down. With a smirk, he stands up, brings it to his mouth, and kisses it.

“Isn’t that how that fucker would have done it?” he asks, still smiling.

You roll your eyes. At least his anger has died down and you’re left with his—typical—snarky self. You pull a chair across from him.

“Mind if I sit?” You ask.

“Normally, I’d tell you to ‘hit the bricks’,” He murmurs, motioning for you to take your place. “But you’ve already done that.”

———————————————————————

A/N: I keep confusing “ankle” with “uncle”. You twist your ankle, not your uncle ffs.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x y/n #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x f!reader #simon riley x female reader #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x you #simon riley #call of duty #cod mwii #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #cod mw ghost #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost riley fic

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evilminji · 8 months

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You know what I never see explored?

"Not on MY watch!" Superfan Dash Baxter. The young, limnal, quarterback built like a tank and willing to hit like one.

Because let's be real here. Imagine that scenario: Dash, heading to practice with his Bros. His best friends. The team. When? Oh shit! It's PHANTOM! Best day EVER right?

Except it's NOT.

Somethings wrong. He's not as graceful as he usually is. There is no clever comebacks. He looks beat up, man. What HAPPENED? Everyone looks confused when Dash looks around. But before he can call up to him?

Phantom is Shot Out Of The SKY.

Hits the football field HARD. The entire team is already running. Full sprint. It's those fucking GIW. Already driving onto the field and tearing it up. Jumping out, weapons primed.

Phantom's not... oh god, he's not getting up.

He looks hurt. Really hurt. Those bastards are closing in.

Dash's team? Has his back. They're also fans. Friends of his. Not a single one hesitates. They put their BACKS into it and welcome these sick fucks to Tackle Practice. With a follow up of "Taste Your Own Teeth". Amity special, coach would be proud.

But Dash... fuck, he can't wail on these guys AND protect Phantom at the same time. Kwan tells him to go. Throws him his keys. His car is least shit. Dash owes him SO many pizzas for this. First pick on movies for LIFE, man.

It hurts to leave his team behind. His best friend. But Dash has to GO. He can already hear the Fentons closing in. He grabs Phantom, his HERO, and runs for his life.

Barely manages to peel out of there in time. Floors it. Calls Paulina, obviously. She and Star are doing a spa day thing. She picks up because she KNOWS he wouldn't bother her if it wasn't serious. And-!

Oh...

Oh fuck.

In the rear view mirror. The Fentons and GIW just screeched onto the road behind him. Closing distance FAST. What does he do? Paulina he can't... he WON'T hand Phantom over!

And of course she understands. For God's sake, she in LOVE with the guy. He's never heard her sound so scared and furious. They'll get phantom over her twice dead body. She and Star are making some sort of noises, chanting, and...?

Giant Amazons with swords? GHOST Amazons. Suddenly in the road, jumping over his car to attack the cars behind him. Paulina what the FUCK?? She been talking to her Abuela, APPARENTLY. Who's friends aunt's "roomate" was particularly good at communicating with the dead. So OBVIOUSLY Paulina got her to send notes and studied them in secret.

Gotta be able to speak to you future husband's family in their native language. You win brownie points. Gives her a step up. "Not the point"? It's kind of a point! Giant warrior women! Who-?

Paulina made friends while practicing.

Of course she did. Why is he even REMOTELY surprised she chose the giant terrifying Amazons to be beasties with? He's know her for years. He should know better by now.

.....he feels small asking. Hates that his voice shakes. But... but what do they DO, 'Lina?

What he hates even more is the little shake in his childhood friends voice, even though she's trying to sound certain and strong. What they Do? What they DO is Dash drives his ass the her house, gets in her BETTER car, which she is going to load up, and they leave Amity.

She has LOADS of money. All sorts of jewelry. They're very last season. Frankly, she.. she can't WAIT to pawn them if they have too. They just have to drive. Get Phantom as far away from those freaks as possible. Get help.

And? It could go so many ways from there? Paulina LOVES Phantom. How will she reconcile that with her views on Fenton? How will Dash? Seperated from their roles as "the popular ones" and "the crazy people's son". Knowing that... that Danny likes her TOO.

But she's been AWFUL to him. She said so much. DID so much.

Do the even? LIKE each other? Or just the IDEA of each other? The person they made up in their heads.

They're afraid, tired, on the run. But free from school, the expectations of others, the baked in histories of a small town. Who ARE they as people? Do they like each other? COULD they?

I want to believe that Paulina really means it. That no one is at their best in middle and high school. They say and do stupid, mean, shallow shit. Because the world presses and presses and tells them it's all they are worth. Because they don't know who they ARE yet. Because she is a child. Not yet eighteen.

And Danny isn't perfect either. He saw a pretty, pretty face and got distracted by it. Didn't see how HARD she works. How smart she is. How ambitious and brilliant at reading people.

Are they trying to get to an Embassy? To Paulina's extended Family to the south, who would most certainly take them in, and would gladly fight gods for them? Or is this a crossover? Are they going towards other Heros? Older ones?

Is Paulina planning to pull a Lois Lane and Cause Problems On Purpose? Is Dash HAUNTED by "oh fuck, Wes was right." And now knows he's gonna have just... just WALK UP TO THEM. Broad ass daylight. Like "hello, I clearly know your secret identity! Please don't kill me!"?

Whatever the plan? Danny is in the back row of Paulina's once nice, now beat to hell car, bleeding irresistibly damaging acidic ecto-blood all over the seats. Wrapped up like a mummy. Texting Tucker.

The live tweets from Amity are... An Event. A Spectacle for the ages. His parents KNOW now, have speed run their grief STRAIGHT to RAGE, directed that rage at the GIW, and gone to WAR. Once a Fenton, always a Fenton. Jazz was right. "Anti-ghost" sentience testing once a week DID pay off.

Was it a pain in the ass? Absolutely. But results don't lie. He clearly passed. Is clearly sentient, emotional, and their son. All in hard numbers they ran themselves. Will it stop them attack FULL ghosts? Jazz has no idea. But it sure did convince them to put the GIW in a hole and fill it with concrete.

Danny's getting reports of "you SHOT MY BABY!" Being shouted in public. Sam has decided to channel her frustration at being unable to help him into Full Goth Dramatic Shit Stirring. Non-waterproof mascara, disheveled hair. Clutching a picture of him. Dramatic howling and weeping in the arms of her parents.

Apparently now that he's presumed DEAD, the Mansons ALWAYS loved him. Like a SON to them. A sweet, innocent child. Their daughters friend! The GIW are monsters and child killers, they decry.

And the Red Huntress is... Oh, yikes. Yeah he should call her. Val is one more bad thing happening from her villian origin story. At least she... PROBABLY... has killed anyone yet. Note to self: when Danny can actually move torso again, buy Valerie soothing anti-stress...everything. All the things. She responds to stress by punching. Deliver from safe, non-punchable distance.

All in all? My Dash? Needs more Dash! Give the popular kids a chance to prove they aren't just cardboard cut outs! That they can grow beyond the roles high-school and society has pushed them into! Give them some trauma! Why only Danny? Spread the psychic damage!

@stealingyourbones @hdgnj @the-witchhunter @nerdpoe

#dp x dc #dpxdc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #dp prompt #dash baxter

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wasteddmoondust · 6 days

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teacher || james potter

pairing: james potter x reader 863 words, preschool teacher au, james is a single dad (not for long...?), kindergarten teacher!reader, gender neutral reader, harry is her student so you know how it goes a/n: sorry this took months i have been in the slumpiest slump ever. hope you enjoy :,) I'm not too sure about how preschools fair in other countries but this is mostly based on my own experiences!

"Mr Potter! Lovely to see you today."

James walks into your classroom, and it's humourous to see you seated in a chair and table meant for six-year-olds.

He smiles at you and waves. Unfortunately, you're swooning on the inside.

Yes, it's unprofessional to have a crush on a parent, let alone the parent of one of your beloved students. Very unprofessional, actually. But you can't help but be enamoured by his looks. He looks exactly like his son, Harry. Messy hair and gold-rimmed glasses.

Or maybe he's just one of the only few parents who are the same age as you. And it doesn't help when you know he's a single father and always strikes a conversation with you whenever he has the chance to. In your head, maybe it wouldn't hurt to make a move.

"Of course, I'm happy to be here today, though it's the last time," he says as he sits down in an identical tiny chair.

You know you have to push these thoughts aside, because this was the last parent-teacher meeting for your kindergarteners who will be graduating in a few weeks. No matter your feelings, your job was to tell parents how their child has faired so far in their education.

You take a deep breath and fix your hair. "Okay, let's get started."

You adore Harry, a joy to have in your class. He is very friendly and communicates very well with his peers and teachers. He actively participates in class. He is developing well in the different aspects. You explain everything in layman's terms so he can understand, and he nods along, listening.

"Needless to say, Harry's definitely ready for primary school. If you'd like, it would be great if you continued his learning at home as well, before he officially starts school." you finish, nodding at James. You unconsciously bite the inside of your cheek, knowing that it won't be long until you'll never see this man again.

"That's great," he says, looking up from Harry's portfolio from over the year. "Harry really appreciates you as a teacher, you know? He always loves coming to school."

You smile at that, it warms your heart. "I'm glad to hear that. I'll definitely miss him when he graduates."

There's an awkward silence between the both of you, not particularly knowing what to say. You both nod and look down. You know it's the end.

"Well..." you start. "If you don't have any more questions, that will be it. Thank you so much for joining us on this journey, Mr Potter."

"I do have- um- a question?" he says abruptly. He suddenly seems more fidgety and nervous, gripping the binder of Harry's portfolio.

"Um..." he scratches his head. You look at him expectantly. "I appreciate you as Harry's teacher, of course. He always says that you're very nice and pretty... I also think you're very nice and pretty..."

You nod along, trying to keep your cool by controlling your facial expressions.

He continues, his shoulders slowly rising in a shrug. "So if you'd let me, we can meet outside of school for once," he spits it out quickly like he's ripping a band-aid off.

Blinking slowly, you process what just happened. "Did you just ask me out?" you ask, eyes wide.

His eyes dart to the side and then back at you. "Yes," he says.

"Mr Potter-" you start.

"Please, you can call me James-"

"Your son is my student."

"He won't be by next week."

"It will be very unprofessional of me-"

"I don't hear a no, though..."

And you're both in silence again. You sigh and bring a hand to your face, resting your chin on your palm as you look away from him. You try to think of your next move.

Aside from all of the consequences that may occur, this is a golden opportunity. Your teacher life always gets so hectic and you barely have time to go out and meet people. If you miss this chance you may never get to have one like it again.

You bite your lip and accept whatever fate may come.

You speak in a hushed voice, willing that no one hears this conversation. "Fine, yes. I'll give you a chance. But if anything goes wrong, my priority is my job and yours is Harry. Got it?"

James let out a breath that almost sounded like a laugh. He looks up at you with sparkling eyes. "Yes, okay. I will-"

He's cut off by a knock at your door. Your colleague opens it and her head pokes into your classroom. "Hi, sorry to interrupt, but the next parent is waiting outside," she says. You nod at her and she leaves. You stand up, and James does too.

"Well, this is... unofficially goodbye, Mr Potter. It really has been a pleasure teaching Harry," you say, stretching your hand out for a shake. He takes it, and his hand is warm.

You mutter quickly to him, "My contact is in the binder."

He grins at you, childlike, and you watch him leave your classroom with a wave. You wave back, smiling.

You sincerely hope you won't regret this decision.

a/n: RRRAAHHH i really hope to make this a mini series of some kind because i have the softest spot for kids and i start being a real teacher in a month! asks are open if you have any thoughts <3 thanks for reading!

#marauders x reader #marauders imagine #requests #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter x you #zee writes

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sunnyship · 6 months

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I am absolutely fascinated by whatever the hell is going on between Shanks and Buggy. Are they best friends? Are they mortal enemies? Estranged brothers? Divorced lovers?

I honestly don't know because I don't think they know. The fact the two of them have wildly different ideas of what their relationship is does not help. It also doesn't help that the more we learn about them, the more everything we know about them shifts.

When we're first introduced to them, it's separately and with the definite impression that Shanks is the good guy and Buggy is a bad guy who hates Shanks due to a 'betrayal'. Then we're shown the 'betrayal' is something simple and stupid and is as much, if not more so, Buggy's fault than Shanks.

Then we find out Buggy lied about what the betrayal actually was followed soon after by the revelation that Shanks ADORES Buggy. In fact, he's so friendly with Buggy that it literally changes how the rest of the world interacts with Buggy. All because one of the Pirate Emperors is treating this pathetic, wet mop of a clown as a beloved equal.

Add in the fact that, by the current point of the story, we are well aware that 'good' and 'evil' are very much relative and... well. For all Buggy's still a villain, we've seen Buggy pull off more relatively 'good' things than we've seen Shanks do. In fact, some of Shanks' more recent actions are extremely questionable. Honestly, the further into the story we get, the more people like the clown and the more people start wondering what the hell, exactly, is Shanks up to?

And then we finally discover what the 'betrayal' actually is. And, wow, does it hurt. Because it's "I love you enough to give up everything for you, including my dreams" only to have the rug pulled out from under you. It's cutting yourself down until you don't know who you even are anymore in order to fit in the box you feel you have to fit in for the relationship to work at all. It's being so codependent you can't imagine not doing everything you can, including hurting yourself, to make sure it works. It's jealousy and anger at being forced to do that and not being able to express it because it's aimed at someone you love and you know the truth would devastate them. And it's leaving because staying would be worse.

It's also "I love you! I need you! Please stay!" and not understanding why love isn't enough. It's loving someone enough to let them go and waiting for them to come back (please come back). It's saying, "I love you," to someone and getting, "I wish I didn't," in reply. It's knowing something is wrong but not what so you can never fix it, no matter how hard you try. It's loving someone so much it's hurting them and not knowing that until they suddenly hurt you back.

It's devastating. And so much of it could be solved with communication.

And therapy. These two need so much therapy.

#one piece #red haired shanks #buggy the clown #one piece spoilers #shanks & buggy #shanks/buggy #shuggy #buggy x shanks #shanks #buggy

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lxkeee · 3 months

Note

Hi!! I absolutely adore/love your works!🥰💕 Also if you do accept a request can you do platonic with reader as the second child of Lucifer and Lilith!

If your requests are closed you can just ignore this and have a good day/night!😁

TO-DO LIST

—Father! Lucifer Morningstar x Daughter! Reader [Platonic]

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Synopsis: Lucifer promised himself to do better, making a to-do list to keep track of what he needed to work on. Including mending his broken relationship with his second daughter.

Notes: will be making a male version of this later.

Additional Notes: anon didn't specify what scenario it is so I just winged it and made up a scenario of my own.

Progress, sure it's slow but progress is progress no matter what the speed of the process is. Lucifer sighs softly to himself, his right hand holding a fountain pen and his left holding a notepad. Moving his hand as he fluidly crossed out something from the paper.

Organize my room. Done.

He smiled proudly at himself, admiring his work. His bedroom is now neat and tidy, the pile of rubber duckies are now stored away properly. Some are used as decorations but the others were hidden somewhere. He made sure to display his proudest creations, such as the backflipping and fire breathing rubber duckie he recently just made.

He promised himself and Charlie that he'll be better. He thanked himself for allowing himself to visit his daughter's hotel. There, he was able to reconnect with her.

His eyes became heavy as his gaze landed on the very last goal he wanted to achieve. Reconnect with [y/n].

Reconnecting with Charlie was easy as the girl was like an exact copy of him. [Y/n] on the other hand is the copy of Lilith, his ex-wife.

Sure, she has his qualities but personality wise. Lilith.

He and [y/n] stopped communicating with one another after he and Lilith split. Guilt. He felt guilty.

He avoided his second daughter as she reminded him so much of her mother.

It's not [y/n]'s fault, nor is it his. He was just grieving, grieving over a love that lasted for so long and suddenly fell apart.

He couldn't process it properly and hurt his daughters in the process.

He doesn't even know what [y/n] is up to lately. Last he remembered is that she took over some things around the kingdom as he was quite useless during these past seven years.

What a shitty father he is. He couldn't protect his daughter. He wonders how much his daughter is going through by temporarily taking his place for the meantime. He could just imagine those filthy sinners looking at her with those disgusting eyes. The harsh words, the objectification.

He just wants to shelter and adore both of his daughters, okay?

Lucifer sighs softly, hand gripping the notepad.

He wants to reconnect so badly but he's being too much of a coward.

He doesn't want to admit it but he's doing all of these tasks because he's prolonging the inevitable of talking to [y/n].

Running away like he always does.

Before he could self destruct like he always does when facing a problem, he could remember Charlie's words, “Healing takes time and you shouldn't rush things if you're not ready. Take one step at a time.”

Lucifer calms down, right. Take my time. I should use this to think about what I should say to her.

Progress, just like Charlie has said.

Slowly and surely, goals that were written down are crossed out one by one.

It took a few weeks at most but he's finally done. Taking out his pen and crossing something out of the notepad.

Try to understand sinners. Done.

His eyes landed on his final goal. Reconnect with [y/n].

Taking a deep breath, trying to calm his fast beating heart. He's nervous, that's an understatement because he is downright terrified.

Finally picking up his phone, tapping on to the screen to look for his contacts.

Finally seeing [y/n]'s contact, her profile a rubber duck version of her that he had made.

Taking a deep breath, trying to remember what he planned to say. Finally, his fingers hit the call button.

Ringing. It's ringing.

His fingers taps along the table of his office nervously, waiting for her to accept his call.

“Father...?” [y/n] answers hesitantly from the other line and his heart almost leaped out of his chest. He cringed a little, after his relationship with his second daughter fell apart. She started calling him father instead of dad. Which sounded way too formal for his liking.

Taking a deep breath, he needs this to be perfect.

“Hey sweetie... I am just calling because I am wondering how you have been?” he says, stuttering a little.

The other line went silent for a few moments before she answered, “Are you okay? This has been the first time you've called me in the last... 5 years. Do you need something father?”

He could practically hear doubts in her voice, imagining that she's raising an eyebrow at him at the moment.

“Are you busy at the moment...?” he asked softly and he could hear the deep sigh from the other line, he could practically hear the disappointment from the sigh she let out.

She probably thought he only called her for a favor. What a bad father he is, really.

“Not at the moment, why?”she asked.

“Can I visit?” he asked hesitantly and the line went silent once more.

“Why...?” she asked, he flinches from the question.

“Can't I visit my daughter now?” he asked, jokingly. He can practically imagine her deadpanning at him.

“Surprised to hear you still call me your daughter, I'm sure I didn't feel it for the last seven ish years.”

He flinches, yeah. He hurt her a lot.

“I know [y/n]... I was a horrible father to you and you didn't deserve that treatment but... I want to be better. For you and Charlie... So please? Can I see you...?” he pleaded softly, tears rolling down his cheeks. He could hear her breath hitched from the other line, followed by a sigh.

“Alright, fine. You can come over.” she says, defeated. No matter what he did, she'll always look for her dad.

The phone call ends and Lucifer takes a deep breath, calming himself before eventually teleporting to the other side of the pride circle, where his daughter's office is located.

He immediately teleported to her office, seeing her working on her desk, typing out on her laptop.

Without giving her time to process, he immediately went to her side. Pulling her up from her seat making her yelp in surprise and hugging her.

“Dad?!” she yelped in surprise, surprised by the warmth her father gave her after seven long years. The male hugged her waist. [Y/n]'s eyes soften as she returns the hug.

“I know I treated you so horribly and I cannot justify my actions. You have been nothing but the best daughter to me and I pushed you away. For that I am sorry, please forgive me.” Lucifer pleaded softly, crying silently against her suit.

“I should've been there for you as you lost your mother but I made it all about me. You had to take over my work while also grieving. I should've been more competent but I pushed all my responsibilities to you and for that I am deeply sorry for hurting you.”

[Y/n] stayed silent, crying silently as she hugged her father. She misses him so much.

“And for that, I hope you know that I am very much proud of you. I love you my dearest princess.” he says softly and it was enough for the girl to finally breakdown, sobbing into her father's shoulders as she kneeled down to reach him. Lucifer held her, holding her body protectively.

“I am grateful that you are my daughter more than anything.” he says, running his hand through her hair. His other hand rubs circles on her back for comfort. “You've grown into such an amazing woman and I am very proud of you. I hope you forgive your father for making you do his work. Don't worry, daddy's here now...” he cooed softly, still holding into the crying girl in his arms. He promised to be better. One step at a time.

General Taglist:

@adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lxkeee answers #lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist #lxkeee updates #lucifer #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer morningstar

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tau1tvec · 3 months

Text

Some tips for The Sims 3 Buy/Build

Install LazyDuchess’ Smooth Patch to alleviate lag, esp in Buy/Build and CAS.

Keep your CC merged and organized, esp your patterns, this will also alleviate a lotta lag across all modes.

When building on community lots, or any lot rlly, avoid going to the edit world menu, and just put testingcheats enabled into the cheat window, then shift+click the ground of the lot to enter Buy/Build mode. This makes leaving it to save a lot easier, with less “preparing” screens to possibly get hung up in.

Lower your settings, you don’t need any adjacent lots loaded, and you certainly don’t need super water on either. You can always switch these back on when you’re done.

While you’re at it, remove your HQ mod, and turn off your Reshade/Gshade preset, or at least turn off your depth shaders. I only ever turn on my depth shaders when I’m taking screenshots for better fps while playing. The DoF shader esp requires a lotta resources your game could be using to simulate all those 78 townie sims instead.

Save as… vs Save, I Save as… at least every third save. It’s also just good habit to keep backups.

When using the CASt tool, set down everything you plan to CASt first, then switch to a category like the wall tool to avoid eventual lag and drag when using it a lot. Love yourself. You don’t have to suffer using CASt tool in an overpopulated category like misc deco.

Utilize the clone option through testing cheats to duplicate already CASted objects, it’ll keep your design just like the dropper tool, but it’s a lot less time consuming, I promise.

Don’t be afraid to use the swatch save tool for objects you use often, esp community lot objects, as it helps to keep your aesthetic consistent. I also keep all of my favorite streetlamps, benches, and public trash bins etc in a convenient custom collection folder to speed up the process of doing multiple lots in one sitting. These handy tools are there, use them.

The issue with custom counters. They mess up sometimes, if you can’t recolor it suddenly, here’s how to fix that. Now if you can’t place down a cupboard suddenly, even though nothing’s in the way, and you’ve got moveobjects on activated, try putting it on the wall a tile over, and then try adding it to your desired spot again. Lastly if you set down counters or cupboards at a corner, and it messes up the textures, but you can still recolor it, you could do what the video I linked above does, or you could simply pull out the CASt tool, and switch it back to any of its original swatches and click the check, then feel free to recolor it as you want.

Railings will also do the “can’t recolor” trick too, but this is a simple fix, just delete it, and replace it, and you’re good.

“Oh no, I switched between buy and build mode, and now my catalogue won’t load, and I can’t click on anything at all!” Don’t panic, hit F2 and/or F3 on your keyboard, these are shortcuts for switching between them, and if you’re lucky it’ll load properly again. Should you get the bug where you load a category and it’s somehow empty, don’t fret, just click on a different category and this should fix it. Then if you get the bug where all the objects you put down disappear suddenly, sorry your game is haunted. Call an exorcist, or just reload, they might reappear if you do.

Tbh, if you run into any kind of major bugs, it’s likely a sign to either save immediately or just restart your game. These only ever show up when you’ve been at it a while ( at least for me ), therefore starting fresh wouldn’t hurt. Probably also wouldn’t hurt to check whether you might’ve installed something the game didn’t agree with by running Dashboard, or put it through the ol’ Save Cleaner.

Honorable Mention: Keep an eye on the texture sizes and poly counts of objects. I know it’s tempting to build these ultra hyperrealistic lots with clutter at every inch, but unless you’re just doing it for screenshots, or for your story, or using it very sparingly, it is not by any means recommended purely for gameplay. This is just the truth when it comes to any Sims game. You don’t want lag, or max memory crashes, or save errors? The Sims 3 is a 32bit game, that’s almost old enough to drive, be easy on it.

#the sims 3 #ts3 #tips and tricks

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zeroeightzeroone · 4 months

Text

stubborn - han jisung

love collection

genre: angst? hurt? eventual comfort?

pairings: fem!reader (infp) x idol!han jisung (istp)

warnings: none

wc ~3k | moodboard

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:

"you're not hearing me at all."

you push yourself off the edge of jisung's bed, onto your feet and make your way around the room gathering the things you came with. which isn't much since he keeps some of your things in his dorm. fingers running through your locks; the state of your hair expressing the brewing frustration within you. what was supposed to be a lovely night sleeping over at jisung's turned into the two of you pushing each other's buttons.

you're quick to swing the door open and make your way into the hall but jisung's quick to follow you out.

"baby, come on!" he calls, hot on your tail, "y/n!"

"leave me alone ji!"

jisung sneers, "you wanted me to communicate more! here i am! communicating but you're walking away!"

you stop, spinning around to face the boy so suddenly that your bodies almost collide. there, in the hallway of jisung's dorm, you're standing face to face, chests rapidly heaving from your uneven breathing, the rage radiating off your bodies. feeding off each other's emotions.

"yes. i wanted you to communicate more but," your tone stern as your eyes narrow up at him, "that also meant hearing me when i'm communicating something to you! listening to me–"

"please. i've been listening to you!"

"no you haven't! it's like i'm speaking into a void when i tell you that i miss you, ji! we've been together for six months, but i've barely seen you in the past few months."

"you know how my job is," jisung crosses his arms over his chest.

"i'm not asking for you to be attached at the hip. all I'm asking is to see you more than i do right now."

"my schedule doesn't work that way. i can't always find the time for you."

"you can't? or you don't want to?" you counter with your arms crossed over your chest.

jisung scoffs at your implication, "what are you talking about?"

"you can't make time for me or you don't want to make time for me?" you look into jisung's eyes, "when we first started dating you wou—"

"–my schedules have changed. they're not the same as when we first started dating," jisung reminds you, "it's not that easy."

"you said that before too!" you remind him, with a frown adorning your lips, "you said it wouldn't be easy, i knew that, but–"

"but?"

"but..." your eyelids flutter, harshly gulping down the lump in your throat as you hold back the tears threatening to brew, "do you not want to try? do you not want to see me?"

"you know it's not like that," jisung sighs, voice laced with exasperation.

"then what? what is it like then?" the tears fall anyway.

"you knew what dating me would be like."

you scoff as you roll your eyes, "you can't keep using that defense."

"am i wron–"

you're quick to cut jisung off, "–i knew that my boyfriend being an idol wouldn't be easy, that we wouldn't get the opportunity to see each other as much as we would like–"

"if you knew then," he shrugs, "what's this all about?"

jisung's words come out colder than intended.

"this is about you not even trying to fit me in! you stopped saying 'i'll try', now its always 'i can't'!"

"excuse me? i haven't been trying? how can you say that i haven't been trying?"

"where's the effort then jisung? show me!" angry tears stream down your face, "all our texts show that i'm the one asking when you're free! that i'm checking up on you! i'm the one initiating everything."

"i'm here now, aren't i?" jisung waves his hands up and down, "is that not enough for you?"

"after today i'll probably see you in another couple of weeks, or even more than a month when i'm the one asking you to spend time with me! me! your girlfriend!"

"god, i can't do this right now," jisung runs a hand through his unruly hair, "i've got a ton of work left to do and this conversation is going nowhere."

"fine," you huff.

a few moments pass with neither of you making any moves, staring straight ahead. though you're both in each other's line of sight, your eyes don't meet. avoiding the other's fiery gaze.

your cheeks are flushed, your falling tears soaking the heated skin but you make no effort to swipe them away. your bottom lip is trembling—your whole body feels like it's trembling due to the overwhelming amount of emotion that rush through your veins that very moment. jisung pretty much mirrors you, minus the tears, the way his brows are knit together, slow and heavy breaths leaving his flared nostrils.

with a sigh of defeat, you turn on your heel, then make a beeline for the door. jisung watches you make your way to the front door, not once looking back at him as you swing the door open and shut it behind you.

and not once does he stop you from leaving.

the door shuts and jisung turns around, walking to his room where he flings the door shut behind him and pulls his headphones on. drowning out his surroundings as he tries to steady his breathing.

an hour or two passes and chan walks through the front door, expecting to see your shoes next to jisung's at the door or some other trace of you inside the dorm, but nothing catches his eye. curious, the curly haired boy peeks into jisung's room to see if maybe you'd both gone out but jisung sits there in his computer chair.

the brunette's still got headphones on, no knowledge that his hyung stands in his doorway. right as chan is about to shut the door, his eyes land on a short stack of clothes on top of jisung's dresser: your favourite shirt of jisung's and a pair of jisung's sweatpants. the sight has chan nodding his head as he slowly steps back and closes the door.

even without asking, it's clear something went on between the two of you. the clothes sitting on top of the younger boy's dresser are the same clothes you're given to wear whenever you stay over. they're jisung's clothes but he sets them aside just for you because he knows how much you love them. instead, the clothes are neatly folded and untouched.

on the way to his own room, chan sends changbin and hyunjin a text, letting them know about the current atmosphere of the dorm.

walking in through the front door of your apartment and locking eyes with your roommate, the surprise on her face is apparent. she wasn't expecting you to come home tonight as you said you'd be sleeping at jisung's before leaving. regardless of her surprise, the moment she registers the look on your face, she's rushing over to pull you into a bear hug.

oh, there go the waterworks again.

your trek home from jisung's dorm was an emotional rollercoaster, to say the least.

you would cry, be fine, see the smallest thing and cry once again. you had literally seen a dog across the street and the tears started falling once again.

standing near the front door, you're holding her tight as you cry into her shoulder. she doesn't ask what the cause of your tears are, instead she rubs comforting circles on your back whilst swaying your bodies back and forth. allowing you to let it all out, no questions asked. the look on your face when you walked through the door said enough for her. moments pass until eventually, you feel that you've cried enough.

"thank you," you say with a sniffle, pulling away from her.

she smiles, "i'm here if you want to talk, even if you don't want to talk about it, i'm still here."

...

its been three days since you and jisung have seen each other.

if you were to ask mutual friends of both yours and jisung's to point out the traits you share, other than the both of you being quite introverted. the top would be: stubborn.

were you both aware of how immature you were being, holding out hope that the other one would crack first? yes. of course.

it's just a matter of who is less stubborn and immature between the both of you.

jisung's holed himself up in the company building the past couple of days. most of his time is spent in chan's room or the dance studio (when he feels like moving) as he tries not to think about you.

keyword: tries.

you're all he can think about.

the brunette would be checking his phone to see if maybe you've sent something. jisung had gotten used to you sending him texts throughout the day but the past three days have been radio silent. he finds himself feeling incomplete without your random texts; feeling incomplete without you.

on the other hand, you've caught yourself almost texting or calling jisung first, holding yourself back for the sake of proving a point. albeit, in an immature manner, but a point nonetheless. just like your boyfriend, you're drowning yourself in work but it does nothing to get the boy with the cutest round cheeks out of your head.

three days of radio silence seemed like more than enough, the longing for each other growing as the days pass. jisung misses your random messages about anything and everything, and you miss his random selfies throughout the day.

you miss each other.

eventually, instead of the both of you being too hard-headed to admit defeat and initiate a conversation; the delay comes with the fact that neither of you know where or how to start.

you and jisung have argued before, of course. it would be unnatural for no conflicts to have come up in six months of your relationship. however, it has never gone this far.

with a deep breath, jisung raises his fist to knock at the door.

"hyung?"

from inside the room, chan hums. turning around in his chair as he calls for jisung to come inside. the door opens slowly, revealing jisung clad in sweats and a hoodie, sheepishly walking into chan's bedroom and taking a seat on the mattress.

"what's up?"

chan knows what's up. it's been quite obvious that something has been up with you and jisung for the past couple of days.

"i need some adv—... help. i need some help," jisung glances up at chan and back down, receiving another hummed reply from the older boy, "i fucked up."

jisung takes a deep breath, fingers toying at his sleeves.

"something happened between you and y/n, yeah?"

jisung nods as chan leans back in his computer chair. with that, jisung begins rambling about the argument you two had while chan listens intently, mentally noting down points he believes to be significant. as jisung retells the exchange, he's reminded of the way you looked at him, the things you said to him and how he responded back to you.

"i.. uh.. i don't know what to do," jisung's hands brush through his hair, elbows on his knees as he leans his weight forward, "i don't know where to start."

meanwhile, a floor down and a couple hours later, seungmin sits in the living room of his dorm on the phone with you. on your end, his voice comes through your phone speakers, filling your room.

"first of all, you two need to speak to each other."

"ok—"

"—i'm not done," seungmin hushes you, "how jisung managed to find someone as stubborn as he is, is beyond me but you're both stubborn as hell."

"... gee, thanks."

"you're welcome. you know it's true," even though he can't see you, you can't help but shrug with a small nod, agreeing with seungmin's statement. he continues, "but think about it like this. one reason you fought was because he wasn't prioritizing your relationship, right?"

"yeah?"

"what about right now?"

"huh?"

"is the priority right now to be as hard-headed as possible to prove a point or…" seungmin drags out the last word, "is it your relationship with jisung?"

"my relationship."

...

"well, someone's up early," your roommate gasps when you walk into the kitchen.

you're fully dressed for the day, ready to go outside. usually this early in the morning you're still asleep, choosing to wake up right on time for work instead of earlier than needed.

"i thought you had a day off?" she muses, bringing the mug up to her lips and taking a sip of her coffee.

even before you entered the kitchen area, you could smell the fragrant aroma of coffee beans, filling the air the moment you walked out of your bedroom.

"i do," you nod, going to make yourself a cup of hot chocolate, not really in the mood for coffee.

"where ya' going?"

"i'm gonna go to the dorms," you turn around and lean against the counter, "talk to ji."

"woke up early to avoid the morning rush?" the soft smile on your face paired with the sigh says enough, "how are you feeling?"

you shrug, "a bit nervous... but i'm always nervous going into serious conversations."

she chuckles, "oh yeah. i remember the conversation we had when you wanted to be a potential roommate."

the memory has your cheeks flushing, throwing your head back in embarrassment. to this day, you don't know how she chose you instead of the other, non-embarrassing, applicants. right before your roommate leaves for work, you're exchanging a quick hug and then she's out the door.

the longer you sit alone in the kitchen, stewing in your own thoughts, deliberating over the plan you've repeated in your head a million times; the more your anxiety heightens. prompting you to close your eyes before it can spill over the brim. you take a deep breath, trying to focus on your heartbeat.

the sudden knock at the door has your heart jump, the noise startling you.

you glance out the kitchen doorway, spotting your roommate's house keys hanging on the rack next to the front door. shaking your head, you walk towards the front, unhooking her keys whilst you turn the knob with your other hand.

she's always been quite forgetful.

with an amused smile on your face, you pry the door open.

"no wonder i didn't hear your keys when you left—"

you gulp, heart flipping in your chest.

its not your roommate.

the words are caught in your throat at the sight of the man standing in front of you.

han jisung's here, inside your apartment complex and right outside your front door. the hood of his brown jacket is pulled over his beanie-clad head, and the bottom half of his face is covered by a mask but the nervousness is obvious as he awkwardly shifts his weight on his feet, eyes flickering around.

"can i come in?" he asks with a soft voice.

you nod, stepping aside, giving jisung the space to walk through the front door then shutting it behind him. he discards his shoes at the door, before you're walking in front of him, leading you both into the living area. the two of you take a seat on the couch, a couple inches of space between your bodies. awkward silence lingering in the air, neither of you knowing who should speak first.

jisung clears his throat and decides to take the leap.

his hands reach up to remove the mask and hood, "where.. uh.. were you going somewhere?"

referring to the denim jeans and hoodie you've got on. his hoodie.

"i was going… to see you."

jisung angles his body in your direction, blinking a couple of times as your gaze flickers towards him.

"... you were going to see me?" you nod, "but.. why?"

now you're turning to him, brows knit in confusion. what does he mean why?

"so we could talk about… you know..."

jisung is mentally smacking himself, "no-no, i know that but you shouldn't be the one going over there.. it should be me coming to you. to talk to you, to apologize to you."

"but i have things to apologize for too…" your hands play with the ends of the hoodie you're wearing, "i... i'm sorry that i made it seem like you don't put anything into our relationship. i hurt you by saying you aren't trying. i know you do, i know its hard with your schedule and all... i—"

jisung shakes his head, scooting closer, taking your hands in his own. the mere feeling of his hands on yours has your heart skipping a beat, your skin tingling under his touch.

"honestly, i was hurt hearing you say i haven't been trying, putting in any effort," the pads of his thumbs gently caress your skin, "it's embarrassing to admit... but it did hurt my ego."

jisung's chocolate brown iris' swim with guilt and sadness.

both emotions stem from his inadequacy as a boyfriend recently; hurting the person he cares the most about. its true that you don't realize what you've lost until it's gone, and he had a taste of it for the past three days. he doesn't want to be without you, never again.

"i didn't see the mistakes i'd made, the ways i hurt you. instead, i hurt you more in that conversation, didn't i?"

the way your lips press into a straight line is enough of an answer for him.

"i'm sorry," jisung squeezes your hands gently, "i'm sorry for not putting more effort into our relationship."

"you are—"

"no, i'm not," he shakes his head, "if i was then it it wouldn't have been brought up, and we wouldn't have had that fight."

"... mhmm."

"i kept saying you knew what you were getting into dating me," a bitter laugh slips from his lips at the memory, "but i also knew what getting into a relationship. god, i fucked up."

your stomach turns and your brain starts to scatter. overthinking about what jisung could say next, hypothesizing the worst-case scenarios.

"i knew that it wasn't going to be easy... that dating me is going to be a lot harder than it would be if you dated... someone else– someone that isn't a celebrity," his fingers fiddle with your own, "you knew all of that and still said yes to me, you still chose me?"

"of course, because i want you. no one else."

jisung's cheeks get rounder as his toothy smile widens at your words. he blinks quickly, snapping himself out of his quick daze and continues.

"i haven't been the best boyfriend lately, i know that..." his brown eyes lock with your own, "i'm sorry for how i hurt you that day... even leading up to that... i know i wasn't putting in that effort and there's no excuse for that, honestly. i haven't been fair to you."

"its okay."

"its not, don't say that, baby," jisung sighs, "i know i fucked up but i'll make it up to you. i promise! i'll do everything i can to make it up to you, i'll work harder on us... i'll find a... what is it? b-balance! balance! i'll work on communicating more... j-just be patient with me? i know you already are but—"

"—you're rambling," you cut him off, knowing if you didn't he'd just continue to talk in circles.

it's adorable, it's endearing.

but you take this opportunity to apologize in return, "i'm sorry too. i'm know i hurt you too that day. i could've found a better way to bring it up to you, talk to you about it but i didn't and i'm so sorry. i need to work on that, i need to work on a lot of things but… we'll work on us, together. it'll be hard but-"

"as long as we're together."

you nod, repeating his words, "as long as we're together."

jisung's hands move up to cup your cheeks, caressing the skin gently as your own hands are circled around his wrists. leaning in, he places a kiss onto your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before he pulls away. his chocolate brown eyes graze over your face with a delighted look, taking the time to memorize your features all over again, etching them into his brain as if it was the first time all over again.

starting with your eyes. your stunning eyes that bore into his own, jisung finds himself entranced by them and the way they sparkle when you're talking about your passions, the things you love. your eyes that smile whenever you laugh at his stupid jokes.

your nose, which you've repeatedly expressed your dissatisfaction with, but jisung find absolutely adorable. the way your nose scrunches up when you laugh or when you're playfully glaring at him.

your lips. your plush, baby pink lips that jisung would kiss all day if he could, especially when you're in a pouty mood. the way your bottom lip juts out makes his heart flip. sometimes he finds himself staring at your lips, allured by the way they move as you speak.

you. you're absolutely breathtaking, beautiful. the most beautiful being he's ever laid his eyes on. the most beautiful being, inside and out that he will ever lay eyes on. he's convinced that nothing else, that no one else will captivate him, entrance him, amaze him the way that you do. the way only you do. its you, only you.

"i love you."

the three words, eight letters leave jisung's lips for the first time, directed to you, dedicated to you and you feel like you're levitating. the words, paired with the melodic vocal tone of the man sitting across from you has you breathless, the sound is intoxicating. you're addicted, so high and elated that for a moment, you wonder if you heard right.

"you..?" you're speechless.

jisung's face beams with happiness, his eyes crinkling into crescent moon shapes at the sight of your own eyes that currently resemble a lost puppy; large, round and beaming up at him.

"it was like a part of me was missing over the past three days. the past three days i didn't have you, three days without you... three days where i got the taste of what life would be like if i lost you. you, y/n, are my heart," he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, "i can't— i don't want to imagine a life without you, it would only be incomplete. i love you…"

jisung pauses, biting down on his bottom lip, trying to bite back his smile.

"fuck… i'm so in love with you."

"han jisung," you press a kiss to his lips with a hum before pulling away ever so slightly. lips brushing against his as you speak, "i'm so in love with you. it's crazy."

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hiccupbutpurple · 7 months

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Stoick’s face falling, when he’s like ‘we finally have something to talk about’ and Hiccup is silent, will never not hit me in the heart.

Stoick is absolutely in the wrong, but it’s scenes like that, that show he does care about Hiccup, he’s just not good at expressing it and hasn’t accepted Hiccup being himself quite yet. He still holds onto the old ideologies and hope that Hiccup will be his kind of Viking. He’s excited cause he thinks he’s got that now (especially after years of not), he can understand Hiccup, they can be a real father and son, they can communicate. That dream is suddenly coming true. Then Hiccup doesn’t reply and there’s that little moment of realisation that the obvious rift between them still exists. He obviously is still keeping his hope as the scene continues but that moment of his face falling and the awkward tension coming back, bringing him back to the reality between them. It hurts so much.

It’s also sad since it highlights to Hiccup, that his dad wouldn’t accept him as he is yet. He’s stuck on the vision of the perfect child that Hiccup isn’t. He can’t respond because how can he when they barely talk as is, and now he’s keeping a secret so big? There’s a bit more to it on Hiccup’s side, but Stoick’s reaction to his silence is really what gets me. He doesn’t know Hiccup can’t just tell him the truth, to him it’s just the plain old usual rift and Hiccup not being comfortable talking (or knowing how to talk) to him about something that could bring them together. From his perspective, in a way, it’s a rejection.

I think it’s such a real thing between parents and children. It’s just such a real and hard hitting one second moment in a real and hard hitting scene.

#analysis #or rather me being emotional about Hiccup and Stoick and needing to ramble about it #It’s probably why I love Hiccup and Stoick so much #because Stoick learns to lose that idea and just accept who his child is #I’m not crying you’re crying #httyd #hiccup haddock #stoick the vast

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actual-changeling · 4 months

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No Nightingales

or: the one time they are actually on the same page

Welcome back to Alex's unhinged meta corner—we once again find ourselves in the final fifteen because I am far from done with them.

I already dove deep into the potential meaning of that phrase, you can find the meta post here, but regardless of what it stands for, the important part of today's post is their mutual recognition of it.

During their entire argument, they are on two different levels of understanding, and while Crowley is somewhat aware of that, Aziraphale very much isn't. But then, right at the end, Crowley invokes the nightingales, and suddenly they find themselves on the same plane of communication.

Let's start from the beginning. Well, not the beginning beginning, but rather the beginning of the end of their conversation.

Aziraphale is visibly upset, there's a strong undercurrent of genuine anger within the hurt, and he reverts back to an almost petulant expression when he tells Crowley "there's nothing more to say".

The movement he is doing with his mouth—maybe biting his cheeks from the looks of it—is the same one as at the end of their very first argument of the season. In the back of the bookshop with Jimbriel being the centre of their discussion, he eventually tells Crowley "but if you won't, you won't". When he sits down and throws his little temper tantrum, it's the same expression of 'I am kicking you out, go leave'.

In episode 1, Crowley does indeed leave, although we all know he comes back later that evening, but not this time. He knows Aziraphale, he knows exactly why he is doing what he is doing, why he is saying what he is saying, and while it broke his heart, it also means he is out of patience and energy.

For six thousand years, he has been trying to get Aziraphale to understand—and he simply refused to do the work necessary for that, preferring to stay in his cognitive dissonance framework of the world.

They are as done as they can be in that moment, and yet Crowley stays and tries one more thing: No nightingales.

"Listen, do you hear that?" is not a question Aziraphale expected, which is quite obvious in his annoyed reaction.

(side note: If someone I love were to talk to me the way Aziraphale responds to Crowley here I'd slap them and walk out. The absolute disrespect in his tone is appalling and Crowley deserves a reward for putting up with it.)

"I don't hear anything," and he isn't getting it just yet, still angry and petulant, still upset.

But then that changes. "That's the point. No nightingales," and Crowley is looking at him like it means something, begging him to listen, to understand—and Aziraphale DOES.

Look at the change in his expression, all that angry annoyance is gone and replaced by a sad dawning of understanding. If you compare this expression with his earlier one, the shift is as obvious as a blinking neon sign on a dark road.

Whatever the exact meaning of 'no nightingales' is, it is unambiguous and a fundamental part of how they communicate about their relationship with each other. Aziraphale has his oh moment, he is forced to confront the entire argument they just had and what it lead them to, what it destroyed.

That is what Crowley tells him, what hits Aziraphale hard enough to completely push him off-balance, to make him sad and visibly hurt instead of angry and upset. Michael 'microexpressions' Sheen strikes again.

Focus on the look in his eyes, the small, almost imperceptible shift, the shame that appears, and the tears it brings. He averts his gaze at first and then raises it back to Crowley because he understands now, he finally realised what Crowley has been trying to tell him the entire time.

No nightingales. It means we're done, we're over. It means I cannot come with you, I have to leave and safe myself. It means I love you, I know you love me, but it isn't enough.

It means we could have been us—but not anymore. Crowley sees him understand, and THAT is why he calls him an idiot; it's not about him returning to heaven or any of the other shit he said. It is about Aziraphale not listening to Crowley, of being so caught up in his bullshit he did not understand the simple message he was being told.

"You idiot. We could have been us."

I love you I love you I love you but now we are ruined and I blame you. If you had listened we could have been happy together, but look at where we ended up instead.

Aziraphale is still staring at him, but once those words leave Crowley's mouth, the tears begin to rise. Lips pressed together to keep himself from crying, the little wobble disturbing them, the pure, distilled pain etching itself into his face.

Shame. Guilt. Anger. Blaming Crowley, blaming himself. Aziraphale is confused, forced to make decisions without getting the space to breathe, to think, and he fell back into the easiest option—be a good angel and do what heaven says.

A part of him KNOWS all of that. It knows what he just did, what he ruined, how much they ended up hurting each other. So the tears come, and when he can no longer keep himself from crying, he turns away.

Crowley understandably combusts at that because really? Really? You dare to turn away from me after all this? I ripped myself open in front of you, and when I FINALLY manage to make you understand you turn your back on me?

He is desperate and hurt, heartbroken beyond repair, and there are six millennia of hopeless love spilling over—so he kisses him.

Hear me, listen to me, understand, I love you I love you I love you, I am losing you, I don't want to lose you, we're done. I know this won't change anything. I know what you will tell me, but I need to try. I need to make sure you know how much I love you.

I need you to understand what you are leaving behind.

There is no secret conversation happening, there's no trick, otherwise this moment of realisation would not exist.

But it does. It is right there for everyone to see.

After everything, this was probably the most painful moment for me, because you see him get it. You see him process, you see him understand, you can practically taste the chaos unfolding in his mind.

Aziraphale understands, but it is too late, and so he finishes what he started and leaves anyway.

#alex talks good omens #good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable divorce #the final fifteen #good omens meta #no nightingales

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cripplecharacters · 3 days

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Do you have any tips (or previous posts) about how to write a young person who’s first-time cane user? This one is for a character who escapes a lifetime of being experimented on, and learns in the aftermath of being rescued that this rather compromised her ability to walk well again. I’ve written characters with other mobility devices for getting around. But never canes. I myself am physically disabled but have never needed anything like these before. I’m always eager to learn.

Hi!

If your character is a first time cane user, here's some things that could happen:

She will need to learn how to walk with the cane first. When you're starting, it's easy to mess up (though it could be my dyspraxia speaking) and overfocus on how you should walk because you're just getting used to it. She could randomly stop and correct her gait, or look down a lot to check if she's still doing the motion (left arm and right leg forward, or the other way around).

She's probably gonna drop that thing a lot. Especially if she has a weaker grip in the cane hand - now, I don't have this problem (the opposite, rather) - but the overall thing is a really common occurrence for most of us. Walking and hit the smallest pebble imaginable? Cane on the ground, somehow. Tried putting it against the wall or table? It's on the ground. And then you need to reach for it... it's a struggle sometimes.

If she's not helped in picking the cane, she will spend some time figuring out what grip and height are comfortable for her. (Grip depends on personal preference, no one's preference has ever been the doorknob handle, height is generally to the person's wrist from the ground up.) I think that this could be an interesting opportunity to talk about disabled communities - maybe she's frustrated with the process and goes to an older (more experienced) cane user to help her?

If it's during the winter, her hand is gonna be freezing - and the opposite in the summer - and she might not be prepared for it. The handle can get HOT and it can be an issue. Depending on what her actual disability is, she might try switching which hand to hold it in. If she's able to do that, another character could warm up her cold hand :)

The first couple of times walking with a cane are an Experience. You feel way better, but also everyone is suddenly staring. Some people care about that, some don't. But it can be somewhat overwhelming either way.

Spatial awareness is gonna suck at first. She will bump into what feels like everything with the cane. Especially doorframes. It's always doorframes for some reason. Or mess up and have her cane slip down because she hasn't realized how close to the curb she was.

She will hit her shin. It will hurt.

She's probably going to be speedy with that thing! Getting a cane is like getting a speed boost. Without it, I have episodes where I'm extremely slow (my highest, extreme-pain speed would be slower than a person walking very casually) and with it, I'm faster than a lot of able-bodied people! It's fun and she would have fun with it.

She will not know what to do with the cane when she doesn't need it. For me, using backpacks always cause issues because I don't know how to hold it without dropping it, but I also need to swap hands, something gets stuck on the handle... it's a whole process that takes a comical amount of time at first. Same when going to the public bathroom, where are you putting it when you aren't using it...? It's a lot of trial and error and a lot of "eww, my cane just touched the dirtiest surface humanly imaginable".

In the real world, people are (overly) interested in young cane user's business and tend to stare a lot. Now, it doesn't have to be like this in your story, but it's often just an annoying part of life. Your character might feel awkward and feel like she needs to explain herself, but this goes away after some time. You just get desensitized after a while.

In the real world, people are sometimes interested and nice about it! For example, a lot of older people can be insecure about using a cane, exactly like younger people. I've heard stories about older people asking younger users where they got their cane from, how are they so confident with it, etc. Another opportunity for a disabled community moment!

I hope that my suggestions were helpful, it's been a while since I was a first-time cane user so I wrote down what I still remember, haha.

Mod Sasza

Hi!

I agree with Sasza on pretty much every point and wanted to add some things from my own experience.

It's really, really hard to hold both a cane and an umbrella at the same time. Sometimes I'll give up and get wet. Sometimes I'll give up and store the cane. She might do either of those, depending on what she hates more: being wet or walking without the cane. Or she could get a raincoat if that works for her.

Speaking of umbrellas, sometimes you need your umbrella and you need your cane and you also need a free hand. This Sucks. What I do for this sometimes (and maybe she or other people have better, smarter, more useful solutions than this) is shove my umbrella into my shirt or backpack strap or something, so the umbrella is Held Up by it. This is not very effective, and will not last long. But if I need to look up a map on my phone or adjust something on my clothes or get my keys, it can work. Sort of.

Just like mod Sasza said, people will take interest in your cane, younger and older alike. I've had people of all ages compliment my cane (it has flowers) as well as people of all ages tell me I'm too young to need a cane or ask what's wrong with me. An older woman once asked me where I got my cane as she had been wanting a 'pretty' one, and that was a nice moment.

She might develop a new awareness of mobility aid users. When you're new at using one and trying to figure it out, you're probably going to be frustrated, because it's a new skill like any other. But it might make her (like it made me) notice more people using canes. It's not that I never saw them before, but that they were more common than I ever thought, and I never would have noticed how common it was if I hadn't had to slow down and practice my skill.

Cane tips get dirty, and cane tips wear out. These both depend on where your character is using her cane (outdoors vs indoors, scratchy asphalt vs smooth wood) as well as how often. A cane with a worn-out rubber tip really sucks and is more unstable and if the cane is made of aluminum and the tip is worn out and you hit the cane the wrong way, you can damage the cane. Ask me how I know.

That's all I can think of right now that I had to learn to deal with when I started! As you can see I still don't have a solution to the rain thing and it's been like two and a half years...

- mod Sparrow

#mod sasza #maybe-its-beyond-words #canes #mod Sparrow #mobility aids

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moonystoes · 11 days

Text

The way people are reacting to what happened to LJ and Millie Turner is exactly what I was expecting. People claim football is inclusive, and everyone gets the chance to feel respected and be able to play safely. But you only defend and protect the people that fit into your standards. They will only defend the people they like or share traits with. White supremacists aren't even trying to cover up their disgusting ideologies.

Turner posted a picture of James 'headlocking' her in the game. It didn't happen, LJ wanted the ball so she came from behind, Millie bent down which made it look like LJ was headlocking her. Not only did she post that knowing the amount of racial abuse and criticism LJ gets for simply breathing, she also commented and liked comments about it being a 'proper headlock'... no it wasn't. And she knows that.

Yet I hadn't seen many speaking about this here, do you guys suddenly not care about players being mistreated and racially abused because they're not white? What happened to all those fans harassing Korbin for excluding and disrespecting the queer community? Is football truly inclusive and for everyone like how you guys claimed it to be? Or is it suddenly not harmful or serious because it doesn't fit into YOUR beliefs?

Claiming LJ is aggressive with actual proof of fouls she committed is understandable, but posting pictures with no context and making it seem like she was trying to harm you is DISGUSTING. Those random Arsenal fans that love McCabe so much always bring the fact 'ohh but Katie never injured a player'... okay? And did LJ do that? Because last time I checked, when she does commit a foul, the player is hurt for a few minutes but continues playing like normal with no minor or serious injuries. You guys can't even find the right excuses to defend your racist thoughts lol. And if you're a McCabe fan, don't bother coming here and explaining why you hate LJ. I'm not listening to your ass. I truly respect McCabe, but I don't like her fans that HATE LJ (if you're a McCabe fan and you don't actively harass LJ... then this isn't for you).

Players from her OWN English squad liking and commenting is absolutely disgusting too. They can see the racial abuse their own teammate is experiencing but they're white ass don't care because again... what was I expecting from them? Of course they wouldn't. And Now that Turner is getting a lot of blacklash, she didn't delete the post. She kept that photo but turned off the comments.

I will always defend LJ, and I will always stand with football being for everyone. But some of you guys are hypocrites.

#barclays wsl #wsl #women's super league #chelsea fc #chelsea women #chelsea women fc #woso #woso community #manchester united #millie turner #lj #lauren james #man utd #man united #Manchester united women

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 1 month

Note

Hello, you’ve asked to send in the prompt when full hc are open so messaging as a reminder

‘M6 reaction to an Mc who has experienced abuse before

Showing signs like flinching or unexplained irritability, anxiety ‘

The Arcana HCs: M6 when MC is recovering from abuse

~ thank you for the reminder anon friend! and my own reminder to whoever's reading this, nobody deserves to be broken like this. there is better, and you deserve better. ~

CW for references to memories of verbal, emotional, and physical abuse, (yelling, vague violence, control, emotional manipulation) and to nontoxic behavior triggering those memories unintentionally

Julian

In all the craziness of your whirlwind romance, you two never really got to talk about your own poor relationship experiences

It just didn't come up, and then life was golden, so golden that there wasn't a point to remembering all that pain and and fear

Until he made you flinch

Completely, entirely on accident, of course, but the full-body wince and the wash of fear across your face was enough to make his heart leap into his throat. What happened, what - why?

He's a flamboyant man. He likes large, theatrical gestures, and as entertaining as they're meant to be, sometimes the sight of an outstretched hand hurtling through the air is anything but

And now he's shaking with a combination of overwhelming guilt and white-hot rage. It gnaws at his bones and boils in his veins, pushing him to make things okay and asking if he has the right to

He's immediately switching to a quiet, shaky voice, asking you first to forgive him for scaring you, and then asking if you'd be willing to tell him more about it between apologies

You know your doctor would never willingly hurt you, and you know this is something you can trust him with, but you don't expect how angry he is. He'll rave about how wrong it was if you let him

He does his best to tone down the gestures, and is always, always ready to remind you how cherished you deserve to be

Asra

They already knew about the past before you two began your relationship - there's a reason you haven't seen or heard a single thing about the source of your pain since you came back

And as long as he was your caretaker, and then your friend, you never had cause to worry because of him. But then things became romantic, and well - some things were easier to deal with before

You love their spontaneity and daydreamy presence, but that level of unpredictability is difficult to interpret when the object of your affections regularly forgets to communicate

Are they just that deeply lost in thought, daydreaming for hours on end, or are they studiously ignoring your attempts to connect?

Is this really a sudden "just because I love you" show of affection, or is it time to brace yourself for some awful things to come?

You know with a heart like his beating steadily in your chest, there's no real doubt when it comes to how deeply and faithfully and purely he loves you. All it takes is a flick of magic to remember

But you also know how terrifying unpredictability can be, and you find yourself on occasion slipping into a fawning state out of habit

They catch on almost immediately, hating the way you suddenly seem to be tiptoeing around them, and push past their nature to bring it out into the open so they can reassure you

So happy to adjust it's hard to believe you were ever nervous

Nadia

She picked up on several signals as she was courting you, and while she didn't want to make you uncomfortable, she didn't hesitate to bring them up. Tell her as much as you're willing to

Of course, her first response was to lay out her own intentions and expectations regarding the relationship she wanted to build with you. She wants you to keep her accountable to giving you the best

It really has felt like a thing of the past ever since, with one exception that you really don't know how to bring up

Your beloved Countess has a very commanding presence. It's one of the many things you adore about her, but on occasion, it has the unintended effect of making you feel stifled - controlled

Announcing a dinner that night which you hadn't been aware of. Selecting your outfits for you. Making a strong opinion known before asking for your perspective, challenging you to disagree

Things that you know come from a place of love and respect, but that remind you a bit too much of a time when there was neither

She picks up on it more slowly than she would've liked to, the way you seem to shrink just a little bit smaller when she tries to help

To her, you're a capable, intelligent, strong person, and the thought hadn't occurred that you might prefer your choices be protected, even from herself. She's humbled. And she loves you

Makes extra sure to make space for you, all of you, every moment

Muriel

For such a large man, he moves unexpectedly quietly

Here are the other things he does quietly: thinking, eating, breathing, resting, working, sleeping ... everything ...

And sometimes, all that quiet starts to feel less like you're around an introverted gentle giant, and more like the silent treatment

Which means you must have done something wrong

But you don't know what you did wrong, and when you live with someone as extremely conflict averse as Muriel, you know that getting him to tell you what you did wrong is very hard to do

And so the anxiety spiral begins, attempting to fix a habit or adjust a behavior, only for the silence to stretch on, and on, and on ...

Muriel, on the other hand, knows that something is bothering you but isn't sure what it is. It was easy to pick up during your time together that your life hadn't been all sunshine and rainbows either

But he's not one to pry, or to do anything that might trigger you, and knowing how much space to himself helps him sort things out, he makes sure to give you as much of that as possible

He doesn't realize that it's not what you need until you approach him one day, clearly distressed, and worriedly ask what you've done wrong. You haven't done anything wrong

He's still quiet, but he's picked up a habit of humming now, so that even in the quiet moments aren't completely silent

Portia

It wasn't hard for her to tell that you weren't used to the type of romantic relationship that made your life better and not worse. Curiosity aside, she wants to know so she understand you better

She wants this opportunity to show you the excitement and healing of finally finding your partner-in-crime. And she does!

This woman is nothing if not passionate

Why hide your emotions when they make you stronger? Why hold back? Why suppress yourself when there's so much color and life and excitement in this world?

There's just ... one tiny issue

Her unbridled emotional intensity is one of her strongest assets and one of the things that gives you the strength and courage to push through the darkest moments

However, it does at times remind you of a much less controlled and safe intensity that was often directed straight at you, designed more to frighten you than to communicate with you

Sudden excited tackle-hugs feel a bit too much like being grabbed and pinned. Vocal expressions of anger at another person's poor behavior feel like a lead up to being blamed for it somehow

Being as empathetic as she is, Portia picks up on this almost instantly and barely needs to be told what you need to feel safe

Besides, she can always go rant at her unsuspecting brother

Lucio

There are some things that this delightful work in progress of a man won't notice until he gets hit in the face with them

Examples include things like "if the usual opinion around making deals with demons is negative, it's probably for a good reason" or "oopsies have consequences, sometimes"

There's no doubt that he loves you and that he's wholeheartedly committed to protecting you. These are things that he's loud and proud about reminding you. Emphasis on loud. He likes to yell!

Whether to emphasize a point or to express an emotion, or just because he's in the woods/at a party/going shopping and that's what you do when you're in that space, his default volume is 95%

And as much as you know the volume is exactly that - a default - it too often feels like a warning instead. Like someone wants nothing in your ears except what they have to say to you

Lucio doesn't realize the effect he's having until he starts to feel unheard, ironically enough. It's like you don't talk back to him anymore, like he's back in that twilight zone of being unheard

When he tells you his stories, you don't interject, you don't add your own embellishments, you don't seem caught up in it

It's his question, "why won't you talk to me?", that has everything tumbling out into the open. He's furious that you got so much less than you deserved, and hurt that he hurt you

... Would you like to yell with him, next time?

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana game #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

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