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#no I'm not gonna get more specific than that but. there's a bunch of words that work. so many.
a-cat-in-toffee · 1 day
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me: yeah im gonna go to sleep
also me: *proceeds to send my friend 650+ words of pepsisprite analysis*
thinking about john being a literal embodiment of the narrative and davesprite being an embodiment of the game. the game and the narrative are intrinsic to each other's existence, but without each other they would be useless. what's the point of the game if no ones watching, and whats the point of watching if no ones playing? john and davesprite’s relationship sort of mirrors that, davesprite wouldn't exist as a sprite if john had never died, but john WOULD have died if davesprite didnt save him. they're necessary to each other's creation and to each other's continued existence and relevance. 
they're the world's shittiest soulmates because their relationship is so riddled with the game and narrative but davesprite and john are tied together in a way which ends up with davesprite always ending up right next to john again. johndirk and pepsisprite are very related what with davesprite mirroring dirk in a bunch of ways, but the difference between the two ships is mainly when they would happen imo. (canon) johndirk can only work postcanon, mostly because they simply don't actually get to meet each other until then, whereas pepsisprite HAS to happen during the game, the 3 year trip to be precise. 
all they had were those 3 years together, really, before everything went to shit. obviously they had known each other before then, but that was john and dave. the "real" dave, before the specifications had to be made. it's kinda sad how because of the timeframe that pepsisprite would be able to work out in, they could never actually have a relationship. like they were both dealing with their own issues (most of which never were resolved, not fully) but it mightve fixed them tbh.
thats really why I'm a big fan of back to the beginning post game aus that include the splinters because their stories are never really completely resolved, most of them are sort of just brushed away or swept into something new (e.g. davepeta)
also going back to what I said earlier on how johndirk mirrors pepsisprite in a way, it does! but there's a lot of nuance to the situations? davesprite is more like bro than dave is, thus making him more like dirk, but he's still a dave yknow. pepsisprite is actually a closer parallel to jakehal, especially by the end of the boat trip with the vaguely antagonistic relationship the two of them have.
actually i think they should be kismesis sometimes as a treat. john has so much emotion and anger built up and having somewhere to vent out that frustration would probably be really good for him. at the same time, though, they're also moirails because john and dave are quite literally the closest humans can get to moirallegiance. john and davesprite transcend quadrants in the actual definition of it, embodying the quads all at once instead of vacillating.
davekat (a ship most people consider to embody all quads) sort of does something similar, however a lot of the time their characterization is of vacillation between redrom and blackrom vs where pepsisprite is happening simultaneously. 
davesprite *is* proud of john and he does really love his friends, however because of the trauma he went through growing up (which was later reinforced by all the shit that went down in the game) he can only express so "ironically" or backhandedly, and john is so repressed to hell and back that *he's* not even sure what emotions he's feeling half the time
I think the fact that the two of them can so effortlessly communicate despite all that, though, really shows you their relationship. john can see the genuine in davesprite's "ironic" statements, and davesprite can pick out john's feelings through all the happy freedom bullshit. they communicate so well despite everything because they're best friends and because they've known each other so long. davesprite is important to john just like john is important to davesprite, and they always end up right back next to each other.
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running-in-the-dark · 4 months
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one thing I love about Redemption is Eliot and Harry interacting. I just love those two old men being friends, okay, it's adorable 💖
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luv4fushi · 4 months
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omfg i litr read everything uve written off ur masterlist I NEED MOREEEE. i love the way u write megumi especially, i couldn’t get enough of it. i hope you write more of him, my heart aches for more tbh 🥹 tysm for being such a good writer and feeding us starved readers well
tysm! i'm sooo glad i can be a good source of megumi content for you >_< i looove writing megumi so you'll be seeing sooo much more of him, dw! happy holidays!
this december
jjk fushiguro megumi x fem!reader
it’s always colder on your own, especially around this time of year. you should be at home, bundled up with a warm cup of hot chocolate, but here you are in shinjuku, exorcizing curses with your ex boyfriend two weeks after your breakup with him. great.
content: post break up, aged up megumi (19/20), megumi is terrible at feelings, getting back together, fluff if you squint, a bit of angst, miscommunication, one bed (but it isn’t the main plot point sorry), megumi calls you baby like once, gojo is the best wingman, SHIBUYA ARC NEVER HAPPENED AND LIFE IS GOOD, not proofread im very sorry guys pls forgive me, kinda a word dump sry
word count: 5.8k (sigh this was supposed to be 2k words max)
click on my masterlist for more & merry christmas to those who celebrate!
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it’s december 19th when satoru gojo tells you that he has a mission just for you. you’re less than ecstatic about it to say the least. the last thing you want to do is be sent to your death just shy of christmas day. you just want to rest your sore muscles and bask in the presence of your best friends. you’re not in the mood to kill any curses, mainly because you’ve just recovered from a previous mission.
“why me?” you groan.
gone are the days where you used to be a goody two shoes for satoru. you’re old enough to talk back now, not like when you had been a shy fifteen-year-old girl. besides, you’ve been around the silver-haired sorcerer long enough to know that he doesn’t mind the bite.
“sorry, kid,” satoru says with a shrug. at least he sounds genuine about it. “the higher ups requested for you specifically. they say you’ll get the job done in the cleanest way. we can’t have things getting messy before the holidays, right?”
“and you wouldn’t be the best choice?” you quip.
satoru only laughs. he ruffles your hair. even with your growth spurt and merciless training, he still towers over you. in a way, he’ll always be your mentor. “hey, i’m going out of town that weekend. give me a break.”
you huff petulantly. something about this mission seems fishy to you. you’re not nearly the strongest sorcerer out of the bunch of kids under satoru’s wings (not that you guys are kids anymore, but sometimes it’s hard to feel otherwise). hell, there’s the kyoto students. it feels like they never have to do anything. you wish that you were rebellious enough to chew utahime out for it.
“why couldn’t they just make yuta or megumi go?” you mutter under your breath. you stammer out megumi’s name and hope satoru doesn’t catch on to the way you can barely say it.
satoru knows about the breakup. why wouldn’t he? he’s basically megumi’s dad, even if the raven haired boy refuses to admit it. satoru’s six eyes mean you can’t hide anything from him (he’d been the first to know that megumi was head over heels for you).
satoru raises a brow. “oh, right. megumi’s coming along too.”
your face twists and you immediately whip around to glare at him. “you’re lying.”
“i wish,” he jokes. “i was really hoping i’d get a wedding invitation one day, you little rascal. i can’t believe you two broke up. maybe this’ll be a good thing!”
“i appreciate your honesty, but—”
“but megumi’s an emotionally constipated kid, yeah, that i know,” satoru laughs. he makes his way to the exit of his office which has you furrowing your brows. is your former teacher actually gonna just leave after making you come all the way here? how rude and so very in character of him.
“please, gojo,” you call out after him, “i don’t wanna go with him.”
“sucks for you,” satoru responds halfheartedly. “merry christmas. try not to take more than a week on this. you’ll have to pay the rest of the fee for accommodations if you do.”
“gojo!” you whine.
“it’s not a hard mission!” satoru insists like it’ll make your life any easier. “y’know, this time of year is when things get ugly. think of it as saving as many people as you can while putting in the least amount of effort!”
and then he teleports. your former teacher teleports away rather than being normal and walking out of the door. you roll your eyes and hope that he can sense it (you know he can’t).
so that’s why you’re here now. with your ex. on the elevator to your assigned room on the tenth floor. you’re so glad that it’s a normal hotel and not a love hotel. lord knows what you’d do if you had checked into a love hotel.
megumi hasn’t spoken a word to you since he broke up with you two weeks ago. it had been in the doorway to your apartment a few days after a particularly rough mission assigned to the both of you—the one you’re still recovering from. he’d pulled you in for a hug, whispering sweet words into your ear. he gave you a look, one of those looks that made him soften his usually sharp eyes.
“i think we should break up.”
and then came the pathetic whimper of yours. he had wiped your tears, even kissed them tenderly, before telling you that it wasn’t your fault—it was his. how cliche.
now as you stand next to him, you want to beat yourself up for not asking for closure. neither of you had explicitly stated that you two were going to be no-contact, but it hurts a lot less to push the idea of forever with megumi away to the back of your mind. besides, you two aren’t confrontational like that. not with each other, anyway.
“need help?” his tone is soft, tender—the tone he reserves specifically for you, the one that tells you he still cares.
you stare down at the luggage at your feet. you’ve always been a chronic overpacker, a habit that megumi knows of by now. he watches you curiously, hands itching at his sides. you can tell that he wants to reach out and grab your suitcase like he always does. he thinks he isn’t obvious, but you can always read through the lines, especially when it’s megumi.
“i’m okay,” you croak out, clearing your throat awkwardly.
the elevator dings and you make your way to your room. as much as you hate to admit it, you’re sort of glad that you and your ex boyfriend are sharing a room. perhaps his’ll be a good way to get closure, though you’re not really sure what closure entails.
what you don’t expect is to unlock the door and be met with a singular bed.
if satoru gojo didn’t have a layer of infinity coating his body (and if he wasn’t the strongest sorcerer alive), you would’ve wrung out his neck.
megumi simply walks into the room, setting his duffel bag down on one of the dressers opposite from the foot of the bed. he doesn’t comment on the lack of double beds, seemingly already aware of the set up.all he does is puff out a weary sigh. you suck in a breath and follow him inside, slipping your shoes off at the entrance.
you lug your suitcase in after you along with your duffel bag and backpack. you stumble forward and megumi’s arm snakes around your waist, steadying you.
“careful,” he mutters, nonchalantly taking your bag off our your shoulders.
it’s a quick series of movements; he swings your bag over his shoulders and places it on the dresser next to the one he’s claimed while guiding you softly to the side of the bed so that you’re not standing in the middle of the doorway.
you scrunch your face, feeling your heart thump against your ribcage. it’s stupid how he still has such a hold on you, even after two weeks of not seeing or talking to him. he’s just so caring, so gentle. it stings, like little the little cuts you get when fighting curses, when you realize that this is something you’ll have to learn how to lose.
“thanks,” you manage to mutter. you don’t trust yourself to say anything else. you know from the way your throat tightens that you’ll be crying soon if you force yourself to talk any more.
“i can take the couch,” megumi says.
it’s that easy with him; he’s a gentleman, so of course he’d take the couch. that’s the way megumi fushiguro is—he offers a solution before you even have the chance to complain. in your year and a half long relationship, that skill of his had been a saving grace.
“no, don’t bother,” you croak. “i’ll book another room.”
“really?” he asks. he stands up a little straighter, awkwardly reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “i mean, i don’t mind sharing a room with you… we’ve..”
we’ve shared a room countless of times before.
megumi doesn’t have to continue his sentence for you to understand what he’s implying. you part your lips to speak, but nothing comes out except for a long, heavy sigh. your shoulders drop as you let the exhaustion seep into your bones. there’s no use arguing about it, not when you don't’ mind sharing a room with megumi, either.
“we’ve broken up,” you remind him in a quiet voice, like you’re afraid saying it out loud will make it truer than it already is.
megumi pauses. you see his adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly. “i know that, but … it’ll be fine. we’ve shared a room as friends before.”
he’s right, like he usually is. you two have shared a room before as just friends, but that had been as teenagers—back when you both harbored such hardcore crushes on each other that you two somehow didn’t notice.
“right,” you find yourself agreeing with a small nod.
“you should go get ready for bed.” megumi begins grabbing a few or the decorative pillow off of the bed. he places them gingerly on the brown couch tucked in the corner of the hotel room. “we’ll be getting up pretty early to deal with the brunt of the mission.”
to finish this mission as quickly as possible, you think.
and so you oblige and head to the bathroom. it’s december 19th, just a few days shy of christmas day, and you’re in bed with your ex boyfriend on the couch just a few feet away.
december 20th greets you with megumi hovering over you. he peers down at you with his messy bangs covering his eyes. they’re piercingly blue as he blinks. his lashes flutter perfectly, even in the early morning. your eyes meet his and you jolt awake.
“good morning,” he says. “your alarm has been ringing for a bit now, so i turned it off.”
you blink rapidly, getting the tiredness out of your eyes. “oh.”
he chuckles softly, just enough for you to catch it with your ears. he rises from his crouched position and heads to the front door. he spares you a glance over his shoulder before he heads out, presumably giving you the privacy you need. you let out a strangled breath before you swing your legs over the bed and head to the bathroom.
by the time you’re finished putting on your uniform, you swing the door to your hotel room open and see megumi leaned up against the wall, tapping away on his phone. his dark blue eyes flicker up to you and he turns away to head down the hall.
you furrow your brows. you can’t help but think that he’s being a little cold to you. it isn’t like you initiated the breakup. despite your frustration with his behavior, you can sort of understand why he wouldn’t want to be sweet around you; you two aren’t dating anymore and so it makes sense that he’d go back to being aloof in your presence, the usual way he acts around everyone else. losing that position in his life makes your stomach churn for reasons you’re less than willing to uncover.
your mission is a vague one; all you know is that it’s a clean-up mission. rather than a level 1 curse (or even a special grade), the mission consists of an acclimation of weak curses surrounding shinjuku. these missions are normally given to younger, more inexperienced sorcerers with the help of a senior sorcerer, but for an odd reason, it’s been given to you and megumi this year. megumi could’ve probably handled it himself. actually, you could’ve handled it yourself.
you bite your tongue to hold back on your complaints as you walk just a step behind megumi. he pauses regularly, waiting for you to catch up to his side. you roll your eyes in secret. does he not realize that you don’t want to walk next to him?
“it’s all just bars,” you mutter.
with that, you earn a tiny laugh from megumi. “well, yeah. this is the red-light district of shinjuku.”
you pale. “this sucks.”
“why do you think i wanted to come out here in the morning rather than at night?” he says, his tone strangely light.
“to deal with the brunt of the mission,” you repeat his words from last night sarcastically. you’re unsure as to what he’s talking about, so you think that it’s okay to give him a little bit of attitude.
he raises his brow but doesn’t comment on your sarcasm. instead, he says softly, “no, stupid. it’s because this is the red-light district. it’s unsafe for anyone, especially a pretty, young girl alone at night.”
your first thought is to coo and tease him. you think i’m pretty? it takes you half a second to remember that you two are broken up. you scoff, “i’m perfectly capable of handling myself.”
“i never said you weren’t,” megumi shoots back. “it would just be annoying explaining to the higher ups why you were fighting people and not curses.”
“i’m sure they’d understand,” you retort, frowning. you cross your arms.
“don’t be so pouty,” he says in that stupid, gentle tone he uses with you when you’re acting bratty.
you both decide to split up. well, it’s more like you demand the two of you to split up. you say it under the pretense that it’ll get the job done faster. besides, you both want to be home before christmas day, right?
there’s about two curses you cross paths with every hour. you’re starting to lose your mind. shouldn’t the streets be infested with them? you don’t even need a veil! all you have to do is give the weak curses just one punch and they vaporize on the spot. your head is running with hundreds of thoughts.
that’s when it hits you: the first years at the tokyo jujutsu school did come out here a week prior! maybe they did a bad job? but you remember nobara had been the one to lead the group. she may half-ass almost everything in her life, but she wouldn’t jeopardize her underclassmen for the sake of her freetime.
so why on earth are you here? it’s not like there are enough harmful curses for a mission to be assigned to you right before christmas, and to you and megumi of all sorcerers. you’re both strong enough to the point of having some kind of importance in the jujutsu world. the higher ups wouldn’t send the two of you on some stupid mission for the sake of it unless they’re planning some sort of secret execution. but even then, satoru gojo should’ve known through their lies to not send you or megumi. unless…he wants you two dead…?
you shake your head and bite your nails. the sun begins to set and you realize that you’ve been out here for longer than you expected. you’re starting to feel a chill in your bones—you had argued petulantly with megumi earlier about not wanting to wear your jacket despite it being the dead of winter; “it’s gonna get in the way!”
you always seem to forget the the sun sets earlier in the winter. it’s stupid how bright all the lights are in shinjuku. there isn’t a square foot of anything that isn’t lit up with neon signs reading out the names of clubs and bars. you see couples and large groups of people walking along the streets.
it’s lonely, you realize. it would’ve been less lonely with megumi.
you make your way to the meeting spot with megumi. you both share a few small words before retiring for the night. megumi says he wants to go sightseeing, even though there’s really nothing much to see. he doesn’t return to the hotel room until late at night.
when he slips into the only bed that the room offers, you chalk it up to the slight alcohol you smell on his lips. it feels so natural that you don’t push him away even though you should. his body is warm and you fit so perfectly against his broad chest that you think it’ll be okay for you to be a little selfish tonight.
“g’night,” megumi mumbles in his sleep.
you smile and nuzzle closer.
it’s december 21st as you realize how late it is in the day. megumi is back on the couch. you feel a tinge of disappointment in the bottom of your stomach.
to no one’s surprise, the sun is barely peeking over the buildings when you’re finally back in the red-light district. you’re doing the last bit of cleanup, but there’s really nothing much for you to clean.
tomorrow, you’ll be heading to a shopping mall, so you suppose you should do your best to sniff out the rest of the curses littering the place unless you want to stay here an extra day. the day is, yet again, slow.
it’s nearing 8 PM and you're finally sure that you’ve gotten rid of all the curses in the general area. you’ve been done for quite a while now, but you just haven’t found the courage to let megumi know that you’re ready to go back to the hotel room. a little sightseeing on your end wouldn’t hurt, right?
“hi, pretty.” a gravelly voice, battered by cigarettes, whispers in your ear.
you jump in surprise. you need to remember not to get too far into your head. you should’ve felt his presence coming from a mile away. it’s a terrible habit and satoru has scolded you for years about it.
“hi,” you mutter, pushing past his larger frame.
the man isn’t as nicely built as the men you know (but then again, your friends are jujutsu sorcerers, so it’s kind of hard to beat that), but he still towers over you. he’s got a squad of rough-looking guys behind him, smirking down at you.
“why’s someone like you alone?” he says, shoving his arm to loop around your waist.
you roll your eyes, getting ready to punch the man square in the nose. will you get in trouble? probably yes. will it be a funny story to tell? also probably yes.
“don’t touch my wife.”
the group of men turn their heads along with you to see megumi. his expression is shrouded with a mixture of anger and frustration. you blink in confusion—megumi usually looks pretty pissed off, but this is the most angry you’ve seen him in a while. and ‘wife’? what’s up with that?
“oh, my bad,” the man chuckles. “didn’t know this pretty thing was married.”
“this ‘pretty thing’ wants you to let her go,” you say with an overly sweet smile. your teeth clench and you hiss, “right now.”
the guy scurries down the sidewalk with his buddies trailing along, making fun of him for hitting on a married woman. nobody mentions the lack of a ring on your finger. nobody mentions the lack of a relationship, either.
“wife?” you scowl. “we’re broken up.”
“guys tend to back up when they know a woman is married. it’s the only way you can really, uh, get them to go away around here.”
you glare at him. “and how would you know? you come here often with girls?”
“...no?” he blinks, unable to comprehend your sudden burst of jealousy. “i sometimes get missions around here, though. pretending to be married was the easiest way—”
“we aren’t, though. we’re not even in a relationship.” you seem to be throwing that into his face a lot more than you should. you can’t help it, though. you still feel a little bitter about not getting a real reason as to why megumi wanted to break up.
“i was trying to help you.” he’s calm and collected, as heard through his voice. he walks up to you and takes your freezing hand into his much warmer ones. “let’s go home.”
“i don’t want to,” you argue.
“stop being a brat,” he says, but there’s no bite to his words. “you’re cold and you’ve been out here all day. if i hadn’t stopped those guys, you probably would’ve beat them up pretty badly.”
“i’m not a fucking brat!” you try to retract your hand, but megumi’s grip only tightens.
“baby, stop,” the pet name rolls off his tongue with ease. megumi sighs softly and pulls you to his chest. “why are you so worked up, hm?”
from the way he speaks, you can tell that he already has an inkling. the breakup. cuddling last night. hugging you now. everything.
you don’t realize you’re crying until he gently wipes his thumb under your eye. he has the audacity to have an amused grin plastered on his stupidly pretty lips. your vision is blurry but if it hadn’t been, you would’ve thrown a punch.
“i’m sorry,” he whispers into your hair. “it’s all my fault.”
“it is,” you whimper pathetically. all the tears and the emotions you’ve been holding back bubble up to the surface.
“don’t be upset,” he almost pleads. “let’s go back, okay?”
the night ends with megumi on the couch. neither of you bring up the argument or the fact that he had slept in your bed with you last night. you two don’t talk about the usage of pet names, either.
when you open your eyes on december 22nd, you’re surprised to see that megumi has already headed out for the day. you click your tongue in annoyance—he’s always been good at avoiding his problems when it comes to dealing with them, especially problems involving his emotions. you already know where you’re supposed to be headed, so you suppose that it’s for the best that he’d left before you.
the shopping mall is a long line of vendors and stores among other things. the snow on the ground is fresh—it must’ve snowed late last night after you’d fallen asleep. it crunches underneath your beat-up sneakers with each step you take. you’re not shocked when you end up wandering aimlessly, dipping in and out of stores with no real urgency to finish your mission.
there’s nothing to do anyway.
you’ve killed about 3 curses total and it’s really starting to look like you’ve been sent out here for busy work. you really should’ve figured that out the first day of the mission when you had to practically beg the curses to come out and fight you.
you find yourself in the front of a jewelry store, eyeing a pretty bracelet that you know would look stunning around megumi’s wrist. it’s one of those bracelets that clasp tightly. there’s a thicker band in the center with pretty carvings that seem to resemble some sort of swirly heart. it’s pretty, you have to admit.
without much thought, you buy the gift.
the seller has to clear her throat to get your attention when you don’t answer her question. “um, would you like this to be wrapped?”
you nod absentmindedly. “oh, yes. sorry. please wrap it.”
she nods in return and proceeds to wrap the bracelet in a tiny box, adorning it with a festive bow. you ask her to change it out for a different color, explaining that it isn’t a christmas gift and instead, it’s for someone’s birthday. she offers you a warm smile before switching it with a muted blue ribbon.
you return to the hotel, having to take an expensive taxi. you don’t mind—the bracelet has already made a decent-sized dent in your wallet. why not spend an extra amount on getting home? it’s not like jujutsu sorcerers are paid poorly.
reality hits you when you finally get back to the hotel room. you want to punch yourself for being so stupid. did you really just buy a birthday present for your ex-boyfriend?
you’re thankful that megumi hasn’t arrived yet. he seems to be determined to avoid you for as long as he can. you can’t blame him, either. you did give him quite a hard time yesterday.
you toss the box on to the dresser and head to the bathroom to splash some much needed cold water on to your face. maybe that’ll wake you up enough to clear your mind. you’ve acted out once during this trip already and you’re not really looking forward to any other possible outbursts.
you rinse your face and pat yourself dry with one of the face towels provided to you by the hotel staff. you hang it over the rack again and tiredly make your way to your bed. you halt your movements when you see megumi standing by the dresser, admiring your gift.
he looks up at you in surprise with the smallest grin on his face. it’s so subtle that you would’ve missed it had you not been dating him for nearly two years.
“is this for me?”
“no,” you quickly deny. his face falls and you cough out, “um, i mean.. yeah. i-i didn’t… i… happy birthday.”
he brightens, lips pulling up into a real, genuine smile. “you remembered?”
“why wouldn’t i?” you blurt gently. you bite your inner cheek to stop yourself from saying anything more.
“i dunno.” his voice is distant and low, like he’s trying to hold back his tears. “i just…i didn’t think i was deserving of a gift from you. thank you. i like it.”
you stand awkwardly, shifting your weight onto your other foot. “yeah, well…”
“can you help me put it on?” he asks, sitting at the edge of your unmade bed.
you feel your body heat up. part of you screams for you to stop. you shouldn’t do that. it’s far too intimate and you two are broken up. you’ve never been good at making decisions, though, so you sit next to him and feel the mattress dip.
he gives you a grateful look, one that you willfully ignore, and gives you his wrist. you clasp the bracelet on, fingertips just barely grazing his skin. your heart skips a beat and you have to inhale sharply before pulling away.
“thank you,” he whispers.
december 23rd is a sore reminder that life goes on. you had half-expected something to spark between you and megumi. perhaps he’d beg for you back, or maybe with less wishful thinking, he’d give you his real reason as to why he doesn’t want you anymore.
“i don’t think we need to go anymore,” megumi says when you come out of the bathroom after freshening up.
“huh? why not?”
“there’s nothing out there.” megumi’s voice is flat.
“i know, but we’ll get in trouble if we…”
“gojo probably sent us out here for fun.”
your lips part. megumi turns to you with a slight frown.
“don’t you think so too?” he asks, but you know it isn’t a question he’s looking to find an answer to. “why would the higher-ups assign a mission like this to a special grade sorcerer and a grade 1 sorcerer? if they needed that much manpower, this mission would’ve been deadlier. instead, we’re playing cleanup crew.”
“yeah, but..” you trail off, unable to think of a statement to refute his words. “if we go back now, we’ll get chewed out.”
“it’s just a scolding. you’ll be fine.” megumi stands up and stretches his arms.
you watch him cautiously as he begins to fold his clothes and throw them into his duffel bag. he doesn’t say anything else, letting the silence overtake the room.
“...are we leaving, then?” you ask meekly, not bothering to hide the slight quiver in your voice.
he pauses slightly. “do you want to stay here until christmas? this mission is stupid and you know it. there’s no point.”
why is his tone so cold all of the sudden? it’s as if you two hadn’t shared a moment last night before bed. does your gift not mean anything to him now that he’s cleared his mind with a good rest?
your eyes flicker to his wrist. the gold glimmers underneath the light and you realize that megumi doesn’t seem to hate wearing it. so why is he acting so … unpleasant?
you feel a lump in your throat. it’s embarrassing how quickly he’s able to upset you from just the tone of his voice. even his body language, usually fluid and smooth, is rigid with your presence. you want to tell him that you’ve enjoyed your time with him. you want to shake his shoulders and tell him that if you two cut your mission short, you might not get another chance to be near him again.
“do you still care about me?” you whisper instead.
he stills completely. “what?”
“this entire time,” you begin shakily, “you’ve been nice to me. you treat me like you always do. you’re always hovering over me even though you pretend you aren’t! you obviously still care, megumi.”
his adam's apple bobs as swallows. a beat of silence. then two. then three.
“i do care,” he admits sorely.
“then why did you break up with me?” you blurt. there it is, the question you’ve been meaning to ask. you both had seen it coming.
“because…” megumi winces as if he’s the one getting hurt from the ordeal. “because you deserve someone that’s normal. someone that isn’t a sorcerer. i can’t give you that life.”
you feel your chest swarm with anger. why does he always think he needs to sabotage himself to make others happy? this is something you’ve tried working with him on, but it seems like old habits are hard to kill off, just like your habit of loving him.
“why the hell would you decide that for me? when did i ever say i wanted a normal life?” you snap. your hands clench at your sides.
“it’s too early for this,” he says, his voice straining as he finally musters up the strength to look at you in your eyes.
“tell me, megumi. if that’s the real reason, then that is the most pathetic excuse for a breakup i've ever heard.” your voice cracks and you gulp down the oncoming sob that’s threatening to explode from your throat.
he inhales slowly and makes his way to you, holding you close against his chest. you should push him away, but you would rather let him hug you. you know that you can’t fight him, anyway.
“you…once said you wanted a regular relationship. when you got hurt a few weeks ago, i realized i couldn’t be that for you,” he confesses lowly. “i knew that you’d never find it in yourself to leave, so i figured i should just let you go for your sa–”
“are you kidding me?” you shout incredulously. “i said that when i was fifteen, megumi! before i even knew what being in love was like!”
he flinches against you. “but i…”
“you and your damn savior complex! i don’t need to be in a regular, normal relationship! i don’t need any of that, megumi! i’m a sorcerer, I won't ever get to be normal! in fact, it’s even better that i’m with you because you at least know what this life is like, you idiot! you’re always ruining the good things in your life because you—”
he takes his fingers to grab your chin and he pulls you in for a kiss. if the kiss is a ploy to shut you up, you hate to admit that it’s working. his tongue slips into your mouth and you melt against him. your arms loop around his neck as you desperately drag him down closer to your body. his hand grip your waist while the other clings to the small of your back.
you whimper out of instinct and he pulls away, lips bruised and breathless. it’s been so long since you’ve tasted him and you frown, tiptoeing to capture his lips again. you need to savor him, to feel him lips against yours again.
“baby, wait.” his chest heaves as he looks down at you. “don’t…don’t do this to me.”
“do what?” you ask, an edge to your voice. did he just reject you? even after all that?
“w-we gotta report back to—”
“we’re supposed to leave tomorrow,” you interrupt.
the gears shift in his head. “fine, but—”
“i’m still really fucking mad, but i just need you to kiss me right now,” you whine impatiently.
all megumi does is laugh when he swoops down to press his lips against yours.
it’s december 24th when you two find yourselves in satoru’s office. steam is practically rising from your ears as you try to compose yourself in front of your former teacher.
“... i wanted a wedding invitation.” satoru shrugs.
“you set us up!” you whine angrily. “gojo, are you serious?! isn’t this a little immature?”
megumi stays silent, averting his gaze. he suddenly finds the succulents on satoru’s desk very interesting. he’s never noticed that they’re all nearly dead! how cool.
your eyes shoot daggers at megumi's silence.
"we aren't gonna get married any time soon..." megumi mutters when he feels your pointy glare on him.
satoru raises his hands in mock surrender. “you two can’t blame me! it worked out! you two are back together now, right?”
“but did you have to make us look like fools out there?” you groan.
“you should’ve figured it out on the first day that the mission was a sham!” satoru exclaims, offense taking over his features.
“but still!” you’re borderline hysterical at this point, unable to believe that your former teacher of all people had to set up an entire fake mission so that you and your ex could talk your feelings out. “we would’ve figured ourselves out sooner or later!”
megumi nods. he feels like he should at least give you a little support even if he’s embarrassed out of his mind.
“oh really?” satoru’s voice drips with sarcasm. “you guys should be thanking me—”
“you’re so not getting an invitation to our wedding!” you grumble.
“wha—hey! i’m the one that got you two back together! besides, i’m megumi’s guardian! you can’t just not invite me.”
“watch me!”
“megumi, tell her that she can’t do that—hey! where are you guys going? invite me, you rascals—why are you guys leaving? we aren’t done discussing this! megumi, don’t you dare take her side! she isn’t even your wife yet—don’t slam my door!”
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No Regrets Noah Sebastian x Reader
Prompt: "The problem is, if I kissed you, I don't think I'd be able to stop."
VIP: Noah Sebastian
Band: Ban Omens
Summary: There's no such thing as a "calm" Halloween night, especially when hidden feelings are involved.
Warnings: It's gonna be a little spicy, but not full-on smut. Still, this is 18+ due to descriptive language and some curse words scattered about, so minors, please DNI. 
A/N
Hello everybody! I'm sorry that I dropped off the face of the Earth. I have an abundance of things going on in my personal life and I am trying my hardest to get through it all. I know in the last post I said chapter 3 of It's Been A Long, Long Time was coming soon. That wasn't a lie. It is still in the process of being edited. I'm working on a new uploading schedule for you guys, and a page redesign as well so if everything pans out the way I'm hoping, it will be put into effect starting next week. In the meantime, I have a couple of stories I'm planning on getting out before Chapter 3 gets released. This turned out a lot longer than I thought it was going to be, but I had an idea and ran with it. I've never written for Bad Omens before, so let me know what you think. Enjoy!
This is a fictional story about real-life people. Nothing that is mentioned in the story below represents who said individuals are, or how they act in real life.
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Halloween night was always your favorite time to be around certain people, specifically the friends you called Motionless in White and Bad Omens. There was always something up their sleeve to turn the normal night into one that you weren't sure you wanted to remember in the morning. Luckily, tonight was the annual hangout at Chris' house this year, and you couldn't be more excited. Every year you all would get together at someone's house and pass out candy to the kids, then watch a couple of movies after the last stragglers came through. After that, came your favorite part of the night, Hide and Seek. It might seem childish, but watching a bunch of tipsy/drunk people try to stay quiet in a hiding spot was always hilarious.
 You were making another batch of popcorn when Chris walked into the kitchen. "Hey, we just put on The Lost Boys, just thought I'd let you know." You smile. "I'm not surprised. That's almost everybody's favorite." He laughs and grabs another bowl from the cabinet. "I know, that's why we put it on first, so nobody can complain about it later." The timer on the microwave went off signaling that the popcorn was finished, and you carefully took the bag out. You gave Chris the cooling-down bag and picked back up the one you set on the counter before he walked in. After emptying them and grabbing extra napkins, Chris brought the popcorn out to your friends who were talking through muffled and hushed whispers. Before you walked back into the room, he pulled you back for a second to whisper something in your ear. "I pulled the seeker for tonight. Unfortunately, it wasn't you. Maybe next year." You pout and then smile "Fuck, I'm never going to get picked." He laughs as you glanced around at everybody scattered in the room. 
Ryan sat with Justin on the loveseat. Folio was a drama queen and insisted he get his own seat. Nicholas, Vinny, and a few other of your friends, Florence, Nicole, Victoria, and Robert who were invited sat around the coffee table on the floor. Ricky, Jolly, and Noah were on the couch. Then, you and Chris got the two giant bean bags in the corner. The lights were changed to red and the TV just started the opening credits to The Lost Boys. You and Chris give the popcorn to Ricky and Nicholas respectively, everybody else having their own mostly full bowls, and grab your drinks before plopping back down on the bean bags. Folio rubs his hands together and smiles. "Now that our final two goofballs are here, who's ready to watch one of the best horror movies ever made?" Everybody gives some form of yes or a holler, and he immediately turns the volume up. As the movie plays, there is a small conversation here and there, and occasionally someone has to get up for a new drink, but you are relaxed and having fun. 
At about the halfway point of the movie, Noah gets up to get another drink from the fridge. On his way back, Jolly scares him, causing his wine to spill all over the floor and your sweatpants. "Jesus man!" The movie is paused and everyone's attention is on you guys. Jolly laughs and puts his hands up in defense. "Sorry dude, I had to scare you at least once today." He turns to look at you. "Didn't mean to ruin your sweatpants though, my bad." You wave him off. "It's no big deal, these were old anyway. You guys can keep the movie playing. I'm just gonna change into different pants real quick." You take a sip of your drink and get up from your spot to go upstairs. 
After finding your weekend bag, you huff as the extra sweatpants are nowhere to be found. Instead, you pull out a pair of spandex volleyball shorts and go to the bathroom. Noah hears the sink running upstairs as he's cleaning up the accidental mess he made by your spot. He throws the paper towels away and before he gets to the stairs, Chris quietly asks "You good?" He nods, telling the other singer he's going to make sure you're okay, and heads to your bathroom. He knocks a few times and after a couple of seconds, the sink cuts off and you open the door. You were expecting one of your girlfriends to be standing there, but instead, it's Noah. "I just wanted to make sure you were alright. I'm sorry about spilling on your sweats. I hope I didn't ruin them." Holding up the pants, you show him where the stain had previously been. "If these sweats can make it through one of your tours, they can certainly handle a little bit of wine. I just didn't want them to stain, since you drink the darker stuff." He chuckles and follows you back into the bedroom. 
You grab your shorts and get ready to put them on, but Noah points to your leg. "I didn't know you had a thigh tattoo." You glance at it and glance at him confused. "Really? I got it a while ago. I could've sworn I showed you when I got it done. Then again, I'm always in longer shorts, so it's not exactly easy to see." Setting them down, you turn to the side and pull part of your underwear band up, showing the last covered part of the tattoo. Looking up at Noah, you can see he's staring, but there's something else behind his eyes. Just not sure what it is though. You don't flinch when he reaches his hand out, but your skin gets goosebumps as his fingers ever so lightly trace over the ink on your leg. Everybody that came over tonight had seen each other in their undergarments or even completely nude before, whether by accident or on purpose. Hell, you've walked in on him changing plenty of times. 
So why did the room suddenly feel hot? 
It could be that you've had a crush on the man since you were kids. There wasn't anything not to like. His personality just made you want to be around him all the time. He's sweet and kind, and has a terrible sense of humor that only you two get. You could go on and on. He was just an all-around amazing person. You were so caught up in your thoughts, that you missed the hand that was snapping in front of your face. "Hello? Are you there?" Coming back to reality, you saw Noah looking down at you with curiosity. You quickly apologized and asked him to repeat what he said. "I said it looks amazing on you. The placement is perfect and it works great with the curves of your leg." You thank him and can't help but notice just how close he's standing to you. There's a tense silence for a couple of moments, and neither of you moves from your spot. You glanced at his eyes, then his lips, but immediately looked away. 
It felt like you were a school girl again, talking to the guy you've had a crush on for ages. You heard him mumble a "Fuck it" before he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. They were soft and tasted like wine, courtesy of the drink that led you here in the first place. You felt his hand move to rest against your cheek. His lips were gentle, almost as if he was savoring the moment, afraid it would never happen again. When the two of you finally pulled away for air, your eyes remained closed for a moment, before slowly opening them and meeting Noah's. The two of you looked at each other in pure awe before you let out a small "Woah" He laughed, and you looked down, feeling your cheeks become hot.
The thought of you being so flustered made him blush too. How was it possible for someone to be this cute? Your heart was pounding out of your chest, and you almost couldn't comprehend what just happened. "You know, for someone that always complained he was a terrible kisser, that was uh, really impressive." He could feel you now completely relaxed against him and he laughed a little, slightly embarrassed. "I'd say that I've had practice, but you already know my teddy bear in fifth grade doesn't count." The two of you laugh. Remembering his hand resting on your cheek, you look away and take a small step back. "I think we should get back to the movie. It's gotta be almost over by now, and I don't want them to yell at us for taking too long." He let out an uncomfortable laugh and muttered a "Yeah." 
You never noticed but Noah frowned slightly when you pulled away from him. He felt so comfortable being that close to you. As you turned to the door he realized something. He really liked you and didn't want this to be just a one-time thing, especially if it was going to make things weird between you afterward. He picks himself out of his thoughts just as you open the door. He walks across the room, taking your hand and silently closing the door. Standing there surprised, you ask him, "Are you okay?" It was now or never he told himself. "I'm sorry, I just..." He takes a breath before continuing. "I really want to kiss you again." You stand there just as surprised but decide to see just how far this could possibly go. "What's the problem then?" He lets go of your hand and brings his own up to hold your face. Pressing his forehead against yours, he whispers. 
"The problem is, if I kissed you, I don't think I'd be able to stop." 
He obviously likes you, right? But this is your best friend. You've known each other for years. If he did like you this much, he would've told you by now, right? You two have been affectionate towards each other before, but there's a line neither of you dared to cross. If you crossed it now, you would rather do it with no regrets. It was better than wondering what could have been. "What if I don't want you to stop?" Noah tilts your head so you're looking him in the eyes. 
"Then I won't." 
He pushes his lips against you again, this time with newfound hunger. His hands fall and grab at your waist while yours go around his neck. Your feet follow his backward and you hit the edge of the bed. He pulls you down to sit on his lap, completely forgetting your lack of pants while he pushes himself further back on the bed. His tongue runs across your bottom lip and you open your mouth allowing him in. Your hands gently tug at the now-cut-short hair on the back of his neck and he grabs at your hip hard enough to leave bruises before pulling you even closer to him. Shifting your weight a little, your lower half sits directly on his hardening cock and he groans into your mouth. He pulls his lips away only for them to move down your neck. You tug at his hair a little harder and he sucks at the tender skin that connects your neck and shoulder. A moan leaves your lips and you mindlessly grind down against him. There was nothing that could prepare you for how right this felt. Like you were seeing a whole different side of him, hidden from the outside world, and for your eyes only.
Noah moved to whisper in your ear. "Quiet baby, wouldn't want everybody to hear us, hmm?" You shake your head no, but it doesn't matter as he kisses you again. "Hey, are you guys-OH MY GOD!" The bedroom door opens to see a shocked Chris looking at the two of you. Noah pulls away from your mouth, and the two of you look like deer in headlights. "I'm going to go... quickly." Chris walks away, before coming back and closing the door. You and Noah make eye contact for a split second, before the two of you look away, slightly embarrassed that you were caught. "Maybe we should go back before someone comes in again." He clears his throat and nods. "Yeah, that's a good idea." Carefully getting off of him, you stand up and let him off the bed. You both straighten out your respective clothes, and you finally put on those shorts. 
"Are you alright?" He nods and you get ready to walk toward the door. Noah runs his fingers through his hair. "Um, Before we go, I just wanted to ask...You don't regret any of what just happened, right?" You immediately shake your head no, slightly frowning. Maybe this was all a big mistake. "Not at all. Why? Do you?" He smiles and also shakes his head no before taking your hand in his. "Nope. No regrets." A smile replaces the frown on your face. You ask "Are you ready for them to never let us live this down?" He laughs and glances at the door. "That doesn't sound like such a bad thing to me." Giving him a nod, he opens the door and the two of you walk back into the living room where the rest of your friend group is talking amongst themselves. When they hear you guys walk in, it gets silent. Noah lets go of your hand so you can sit down first, and then goes to his spot on the couch. 
Nobody said anything for the first couple of moments before Chris broke the silence. "You guys fucked in my spare bedroom..." Instantly you and Noah sat up and shook your heads. Your voice and his overlapped and both of you tried to tell your friends that technically nothing happened. Once the two of you were finished explaining, the room was silent for another couple of moments before anyone spoke. The silence was starting to make you uncomfortable, but before you could say or do anything, Ryan threw his hands up and yelled. "Fucking finally!" This breaks the tension in the room and everybody starts laughing and giving you and Noah happy looks. You even saw a couple of people passing money around. Those fuckers bet on you and Noah getting together. When the commotion has died down, another movie has started, and everybody turns their attention to the TV. As you focus your attention on the screen, your phone buzzes, and you pick it up. 
Noah
"I was thinking later we could finish what we started in the spare bedroom?"
You smile at your phone and quickly respond before setting it down.
"Well, we're still playing Hide and Seek after the movie. I'm once again not the seeker, lol. If it happens to be you, don't go easy on me. Depending on how the rest of the night plays out, you might get your wish ;)"
Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Noah readjust himself in his seat. He sends back a text almost instantly, and goosebumps litter your skin again as you read his last text.
Noah
"Oh, I won't. I like the hunt."
Nope, no regrets.
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tocomplainfriend · 4 months
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Some random complaining!
Hazbin Hotel totally got cut off- I mean Viv probably wanted at least 3-4 season or something, but they just gave her 2. Cause the Angels already starting the genocide is so early. Which what does that mean for season 2 if this is just season 1?
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I really thought it all would've started after the events of the pilot. So we just got Alastor, Nifty, and Husk. And then getting Sir pentious in the hotel, and going through some time before the extermination.
I think we are going to get normal "get to know the characters" episodes, but then scaling to the extermination date. (which I thought it was held by the end of the year). No clue of what's after that... really.
The "we will show a heaven a fight" shows me that the idea of redemption of sinners is left behind really fast. Which I found interesting, so that sucks.
Oh, look is her!
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Also, I really thought they would do a small thing about the swearing. Look... I swear a shit ton! But Viv can not write all her characters like that. She said, "I write the characters how I talk"- that is not good because all characters talk the same and all force of swearing in the series disappears. The fact that Alastor doesn't swear is good, cause it gives him more character. I really hope that Charlie doesn't swear half as much, it would fit her character more. The daughter of Lucifer, that's the one out because she is nicer. But has casual to little swearing is outstanding. (It would be more special if multiple of the sins in HB weren't sweethearts). Husk swearing a lot makes sense old man, alcoholic, gambling addict from the '70s. Hopefully Nifty doesn't, She is from the 1950s when swearing was less frequent, and used specific words too-which I hope the language of the year is they are from-in the same way they are with Alastor. In the idea of Nifty being a maid during her life, you would guess she would swear less than other characters.
Every person talks and swears differently individually. So I hope not all characters over swear.
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Look at Nifty! (you can do small jokes like this without swearing or heavy sexual garbage all the time)
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These guys here looked a bit weird.
Also, I supposed Vaggie is still from 2014 and El Salvador, right? Like she died went to heaven, became a fallen angel... right? Am I wrong about that? Genuine question!
Also, I wonder what they will do with Sir Pentious? Velvette is not anywhere on the trailer, I think. I'm sure Baxter doesn't exist lmao. I really wonder how they will balance things with personal things for each character-at the same time of the angel's attack.
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Are they full front fight the angels? Where are this guy's machines?
Someone wanted a bunch of Broadway voices, and was so ready to throw old VA's out, damn.
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Are they going to have time to explore how characters died, what let them be in hell even? Gonna do a post about that and heaven stuff later on!
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Stubborn Sickness - D.Malfoy
Summary - Y/N is too stubborn to take a pepperup potion even though she is sick and madam Pomphrey has a bunch. The kind hearted slytherin in turn suffers through it in her boyfriend’s bed, snoring her days away. Thankfully Pansy is there to save the day and give her best friend the potion that will make her better. 
Word Count - 819
Warnings - Illness(common cold), swearing, use of y/n, female reader, Theo and Pansy are kinda comedic relief, (let me know If I missed any)
Author's Note- Day Six! Welcome! This is my first Draco fic but it really doesn't have a lot of Draco. I am still trying my damndest to keep up with the 25 days! I'm writing and scheduling my uploads ahead of time!
Harry Potter Masterlist
my masterlist
25 days of fics masterlist
Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!
Enjoy!
not my gif
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not my gif
Because of the winter, illnesses were inevitable, students at a constant rotation in the hospital wing for a pepperup potion. There were a few students however, that were particularly stubborn, one of them being Y/N Y/L/N. She knew how busy madam Pomphrey was during this time of year, so she wanted to lessen the load a little bit, even if it was just by one student. Her boyfriend, on the other hand, thought she was being an idiot for not going to get the potion. 
Draco, the ever dutiful boyfriend, was at his ill girlfriend’s every beck and call. She was staying in his dorm so his roommates also had to go through the pleasures of her acting like she was dying over a cold. She had been sleeping in Draco’s bed, covers pulled up over her shoulders, tissues scattered around her, snoring due to her clogged sinuses. 
She woke with a start due to a pillow smacking into her head. “What the fuck!?” She whined, her eyes still closed, her mouth completely dry. 
“You snore louder than a dragon! I’m trying to study here,” Theo complained right back.
“I can’t help it, I’m sick! I don’t usually snore, go study in the library if it bothers you that much.”
Draco walked into the room, a glass of water in his hand and his bag swung over his shoulder. “Don’t make fun of her snoring, she can’t help what she does while she sleeps. Darling, you snore all the time, it’s just louder than usual,” Draco chimed in, dropping his bag at the end of his bed and giving her the glass of water. He made sure she drank at least half before he went about pulling any homework out of his bag. 
“I snore all the time?” She questioned her boyfriend.
“Yes, but it’s cute! And you know I’d never lie to you.” He was in the process of starting his homework and handing Y/N hers. She pouted but started her homework with Draco. She was halfway through before she went into a sneezing fit, her boyfriend sighing because he had been pestering her to go see Pomphrey which she kept refusing. 
“At this point just ask Snape for the damn potion. I don’t want to get sick too,” Blaise added to the conversation. 
“I’m not gonna get you sick!” Before Blaise and Theo could go back at her, Pansy waltzed into the room like it was her own. In her hand she held a potion, more specifically the pepperup potion and it was enough for all of them just in case the boys got sick too. 
“I come bearing a gift! Not only is there enough for our dear Y/N, but there’s also enough for the rest of you if you get sick. Well, more like when you get sick,” Pansy sing-songed as she skipped to her sick friend. Y/N was more than thankful for her friend and roommate, willingly taking the bit of potion that Pansy had given her. 
She started to feel better after about an hour, her sinuses opening up, her headache disappearing, and the ache in her body leaving completely. She spent the rest of her night catching up on homework and cleaning up around the dorm since she had taken over for a few days. Draco insisted she stayed one more night with him before returning to her own room so of course she couldn’t say no. 
The next morning she was once again rudely woken up, this time it was the boys around her all whining. She had officially gotten all of them sick, including Draco who was still asleep but snoring like a freight train. Oh how the tables have turned, the boys choosing to give her a taste of her own medicine, having her bring them tissues and their homework as well as going into the kitchens to get them all food.
Later that day, after all of them agreed to take the potion, she felt relieved and exhausted. “I am never going to be stubborn about this bloody potion ever again, you guys are too much!” She ranted.
“Karma,” Pansy added in her two cents. 
“I wasn’t that bad, was I?”
“Not at all darling. We were just exaggerating,” Draco assured his girlfriend.
“No, you were worse,” Theo told her truthfully.
“What the fuck, Nott! I told you not to say anything!”
 “I can’t lie to her!  She’s one of my best friends, Malfoy! I need to tell her the truth about how whiney she actually was.”
Her face was hot with embarrassment, as she hid her head in Draco’s neck. She was slightly thankful for Theo’s honesty, she never realized how bad she actually was when she was sick. “Don’t worry, love, I’ll always take care of you when you’re sick, even if you’re too stubborn to take a pepperup potion.”
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fillinforlater · 4 months
Note
It’s that time of the year again. What are some of your favorite smuts released in 2023?
Monday of Appreciation: Part 104
Hello everyone, Smite here!
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2023 is coming to a close and it's been quite the year, a mixture of "this is a bridge year for greater things to come" and "WE LIVIN' NOW MF!" What is a bit different this year is that the highs weren't as high and the lows weren't as low compared to previous years---maybe that is just me getting older, maybe it's hindsight. Either way, I'm good and this year was good.
But some things are more than just good. I'm of course talking about these writers and their stories that I have featured today. All of them deserve special mention, but I want to focus on two of them specifically.
In a year of great, fantastic and already legendary fics, these two stand out.
Without further ado, let's dive into the final MoA of this year:
-1-
@fanfiction4sooya: Can't Save You Now ft. Chaewon, Kazuha, Sakura
I- I- I just read the damn tags and new I one day had to give this a shot. ff4sooya has crazy ideas, futa galore, different dynamics and kinks, which is SO MY THING. This has Mommy and Daddy involved in an absurd (and absurdly hot) threesome that I couldn't take my eyes off.
Now I definitely need to read more and you should too because I bet there are a bunch of Masterpieces in that long Masterlist!
-2-
@iznsfw: Drunken ft. Olivia Hye
Is it really a Monday of Appreciation post without IZ?
Seriously, what this genius is able to cook up in a commission or in the currently ongoing (HYPE) IZ DAYS OF CHRISTMAS is absolutely incredible. We have long stories with in depth characters and love drama that ends not only smuttily but sweetly. Who the fuck needs books, when you can just binge IZ?
With "Drunken", they have once again hit it out of the FUCKIING park. There is never enough Daddy kink fics, yes, but mine seem like nonsensical cringe porn compared to this beauty of a piece. I love how it plays with my heart, no I'm not crying---okay, now that is hot.
Let me change that: there is three very fucking special stories today!
(I think this might even be better than Levi's Hyeju, wtf)
-3-
@cataboliac: Enkindle ft. Wendy
Firstly: I LOVE YOU CATA, BIG QT!
Secondly: "Enkindle" feels a bit like coming home, like a day in Paradise, like the one person that shines so bright in your life that you don't want it to go. And you know, that is the great thing: this might be Cata's final fic, the farewell, but not only is his life gonna be great and he'll be super happy - we also get to read this again and again, and I'm sure I will one day.
Thank you, Cata, for hanging around!
Thirdly: I'M GONNA KISS YOU, CATA!
-4-
@writerpeach: Delectation ft. Wonyoung, Yujin
1.000 Notes, and it's still not enough for what is my pick for fic of the year (FOTY? FOOTY? There is a scene like that, yep). IZ*ONE truly never dies, but it is IVE and these absolute super stars, bomb shells with flawless faces and different, yet irresistible bodies that have us in a frenzy.
Talking about frenzy, all those 30,699 words are a frenzy. I thought Peach would set it up with a long and painful tease that has us edging the entire time BUT NOPE this has so much fucking smut, so many lines of neediness and horniness, it is impossible to finish in one try or two tries or... I dunno, seven-hundred tries?
It's detailed, it's straight forward, it's sex from every fucking angle, I can never get tired of this. I will go so far and say this is Peach's magnum opus, the GOAT fic by the GOAT writer. At least for that day, I can say this without a doubt.
Peach, you are crazy and thank you for that <3
#PeachPavedTheWay #AnnyeongzForDaddy
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the-kr8tor · 8 months
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Woven Wheel
Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader
Word count: 4.3k
Tags: use of Y/N sparingly, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), Hobie is taller than the reader, CW food, FLUFF.
My Navigation
Thread the Needle Masterlist
CHAPTER 5 >>> CHAPTER 6
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You sit on Hobie's rickety chair, on your lap is his emerald bed sheet, your hands expertly stitch together the large hole on the side of the cloth. Eyes glued to what you're doing, you don't notice Hobie's piercing gaze.
He's crouched over to the other side of the room, fixing the wiring of his answering machine. Hobie watches your cherry earrings sway as you move your head to the side to inspect your handiwork. The bags under your eyes are more prominent than the last time he saw you. He sighs, fingers wrapping around the wiring of his answering machine.
Hobie should've been more persuasive at telling you to stay home and get some much needed rest. But you being you, you won the argument, telling him that it'll be your place too once you graduate so you should come over and help with the cleaning and fixing. With that you already won, but then you added the fact that he already used a ticket from your favour card. Rolling your eyes through the payphone's receiver as if he can see you, you tell him that you always keep to your word. He relents, the only thing he can do now is to make sure you don't get too tired, opting to give you the easiest job, even if he means he has to do more.
So here you are sitting in his sparse living room, mending his bedsheet, watching as James walks over to you. You smile politely to the blonde, making small talk.
"You're gonna burn a hole right through her" Ned appears out of nowhere, whispering right in Hobie's ear.
Hobie pushes him off, Ned cackles at his annoyed reaction. "Fucker"
"You look like a lovesick teen, just go fuckin' tell her, you idiot" Ned sits down to Hobie's level, whispering to him. "Seriously, go do it before someone else does" as Ned says this, you laugh at something James said, the blonde smiles sheepishly at you. "Also I need to see you two finally get together before I leave. I deserve that much after watching you two yearn for each other the entire time I've known you lot"
Hobie frowns at what Ned says, fingers twisting the wiring in his hands faster, he jumps when a sudden jolt of electricity shocks him, the wiring falling from his hand "Fuck!" He yells, holding and shaking his hands.
You perk up, attuned to his scream of pain, stopping mid conversation. "You okay, Hobs?" Handing the linen to James, speed walking the small distance towards Hobie's crouched form. "The hell did you do?" Crouching down, you hold his hands gingerly, massaging his calloused fingers. Probably the opposite of what you should do when somebody gets electrocuted.
"I'm okay, just a shock is all" Hobie stares at your hands gingerly holding his. You nod, still a little concerned.
Ned chuckles, Hobie stares daggers at his friend, shutting him up, a faint smirk staying on his lips. "Maybe you should let Yuri do that, she's good with that kind of stuff" Ned teases Hobie more.
"Let me do what?" Yuri enters the boat, a large box in her hands.
"I have it," Hobie grumbles.
You stand up, dropping Hobie's hands on his side, "oh, let me help you with that"
Ned stops you before you could get your hands over to the box. "Got it, y/n"
"I got it" Yuri lightly shoves Ned away, "I'm not a damsel in distress" she walks towards the pile of boxes on the side of the boat, dropping the large box next to the pile, "see, no sweat"
"When's lunch?" James pipes up, still holding Hobie's bedsheet.
"Mate, you barely did anything" Ned scrunches his nose, "you're right though, when's lunch, Hobie?"
You laugh, Yuri rolls her eyes, a ghost of a smile on her red lips.
"Bunch of leeches, the lot of you" he murmurs. Tapping you on your arm, "what do you want?" Hobie asks you.
"Pizza or fish and chips" Ned says before you could answer, a teasing smile on his lips.
"I asked her not you" Hobie huffs.
"I second that," James agrees, pointing at Ned.
"A coke too," Yuri adds.
"Christ" Hobie places his hands over his hips, "you good with either?" He turns his head towards you.
"A large coke for me, please" you add to the teasing.
"I expected better from you" Hobie narrows his eyes, you giggle at his expression.
The chair creaks from under you, finishing the last stitches on the bed sheet, you try to make conversation with Yuri. She sorts through the various boxes for some utensils to eat with. The men left a few minutes ago to buy lunch, leaving you and Yuri inside the Houseboat.
"So what are you gonna study?" You break the silence.
"Getting right to the point, huh?" Yuri teases but you take it too seriously, eyes widening, afraid that you might've offended her.
"Sorry, I didn't mean–"
"I was joking," Yuri stops her perusal of boxes, now looking straight at you with her piercing gaze, "you can ask" she chuckles, "seriously, don't apologize"
"Oh, okay, sorr–" Yuri raises a sharp brow, you backtrack, suddenly nervous from her stare, "right, so um, what are you gonna study?"
Yuri smiles, "Architecture, I know, it's a surprise, huh?" She gestures towards her dark clothes, combat boots and spiked denim jacket.
"Kind of? I mean look at me, do I look like a fashion student?" Gesturing towards your not so plain clothes, but still pretty tame from what you used to wear back in the day. You opted for a pair of bell bottomed jeans instead of your usual straight cut denim, your long sleeved blouse rustles slightly when a draft blows in. The detailed design of hummingbirds stitched on the collar of your shirt practically comes alive every time you turn your head. You're slowly trying to ease back to your usual self, following Danny's advice. And it actually works since you had a major breakthrough with your design a few nights ago. You're keeping it a secret, a little surprise for your model.
"You're a fashion student?!" She feigns surprise.
Chuckling, you see why her and Hobie are friends.
"I joke" Yuri winks, "I stopped tryin' to blend in a looong time ago" she crosses the small threshold, sitting in front of you on an equally rickety chair, "you look different, they stare, you look plain, they whisper. You can't bloody win. Might as well be myself out of spite, right?" she lifts her leg to cross it over the other. "Così va il mondo'' she sighs.
"Such is life" you translate, Yuri smirks, eyes twinkling.
"I see why Hobie likes you so much," she leans on the wooden table, elbows propped up, hand holding her chin. "You're not just pretty, but smart too, huh?"
Smiling genuinely at her, you take note of her freckles, dotting her face like stars, her septum piercing glinting in the low light of the lamp you've placed on the table.
The door to the houseboat swings open, the boys' bickering slices the silence inside the boat.
"Fuckin' told you to hold it on its side!" Hobie argues with James.
"I did! It slid down! I can't control gravity, Hobie!" James retaliates.
Ned enters the space first, he looks so out of it, face frowning, exasperated at his two companions. He holds a liter of coke in his hand, the other a plastic bag of something hot inside.
Yuri side eyes you, shaking her head at the men arguing, you chuckle. She stands up reluctantly, going towards the pile of boxes to take out the utensils.
You follow her lead, walking to meet halfway with the tired Ned. He hands you the bottle of coke.
"I feel like I've aged ten bloody years"
You chuckle, helping Ned place the food on the wobbly table.
"Wait, place it on the floor, that table's not stable enough" Hobie stops you, grabbing the soda bottle from your hands, he juggles it in between the paper bag he's carrying.
"I got it, Hobie" you take the bottle from his hand, " 's not that heavy, you're already carrying too much"
"Where do we eat then, doofus?" Yuri asks the question that's on everyone's mind, she holds plates of various sizes in her hands, mismatched spoons and forks placed on top of the ceramic, in her other hand are mugs, hanging precariously on her ring clad fingers.
"Well, idiot," Hobie retaliates, "the floor is your best friend" He sits down on the newly polished floor, the wood gleaming in all its glory. The paper bag almost spills over when he sits down, grabbing the top of the bag before the contents decorate the clean floors.
"The chips!" James dramatically yells.
"They're fine!" Hobie clicks his tongue, he taps the floor next to him. "Right here, y/n" he softened up when he said your name.
You don't waste a second to cross the space, dropping down next to him. You sit criss crossed, cradling the liter bottle like a baby.
"You need a dining table or at least a settee that doesn't give you tetanus when the spring pokes you" Ned unceremoniously sits down, adjacent to you, he yelps when hot oil singes his finger. "Where else are we gonna sit?" He licks the oil off his red fingertip.
"You gonna buy me one, Neddy?" Hobie gives you a box full of chips, you give him a small 'thank you'.
"I'll buy you one if you actually do what we discussed earlier" Ned replies. Hobie narrows his eyes, non-verbally telling him to shut up.
You look at Ned quizzically, he shrugs, handing everyone their share of fried fish. Your stomach grumbles at the sight. Everyone sits in a circle, the pizza box and soda lays in the middle of the group.
Yuri snorts, knowing what he meant. James opens the pizza box, the savory smell coating the small space. He quickly grabs a slice, gobbling it down.
"Bloody hell, use a plate at least. Were you raised in a barn?" Yuri grimaces, handing James a plate. He nods a thank you, mouth full of dough. "Here you go, love" she hands you a couple of plates and utensils.
"Thanks,Yuri" You hand the spare utensils to Hobie, Leaning forward to grab a slice.
"What's all this? You two best mates now?" Hobie asks, biting off a chip.
"You jealous? We're just lookin' out for each other. Ain't that right, sweets?" Yuri winks at you. You stop chewing for a hot second.
Ned guffaws while James laughs with a mouthful of cheese and sauce. Hobie rolls his eyes, handing you his makeshift glass so you could pour him a drink.
You pour him one while Hobie casually rolls your sleeves up to your elbows so you don't splash soda on it. The fizz rises up towards the edge of the mug. "It's not that cold anymore"
"I'll manage" Hobie thanks you by tapping his mug towards yours, it clinks when they meet.
"Best fish and chips in town, fuck I'm gonna miss this" Ned says.
"They have fish and chips in Richmond," Yuri scoffs, biting into the doughy pizza.
"I know they have fish and chips! But not this fish and chips" he shows his plate like a commercial, hand gesturing around his plate.
"They literally all taste the same" James quips, hand reaching for tissues.
"They would taste the same for you because you don't stop to actually taste it" Ned rebukes.
Their banter fades in the background as Hobie scooches next to you, legs kissing yours, "you want my slice?"
"Hmm? You don't like it?" You lean further into him, "is it the cheese?"
"Nah, I just don't like it" he leans towards you, further closing the already small distance, breath mixing in with yours. "It's too.." he tries to find the right word to describe it, "..gooey for me"
You snort at his choice of word "hehehe say it again"
"What's so funny about 'gooey'?"
"You saying 'gooey', big punk Hobie saying gooey is funny" you take the pizza from his plate, taking a bite from it. "Oh, you're right, it is gooey"
"Doughy, fuck that's the word I was looking for"
You giggle, "I think 'doughy' has the same effect as 'gooey'"
"You're very funny" Hobie stops for a second, unabashedly staring at your lips, he brings his thumb over to it, wiping at the corner of your mouth. You don't have time to react, freezing into place. "Sorry, you got sauce on it" he continues wiping, thumb grazing your lower lip. You stare at him, eyes wide, breath hitching in your throat. "Got it"
You clear your throat, "Thanks"
"Oi lovebirds!" Ned whistles to get your attention, Hobie glares at Ned.
"We're not dogs, what the hell do you want?"
"Pass me the hot sauce" Ned points at the packets near your crossed legs.
Hobie scoffs, tossing Ned the packets. It bounces off Ned's mug, almost falling inside his drink. Ned flips Hobie the bird as a thank you. Hobie lovingly answers the same.
The group munches on their food quietly for a few minutes, you relish in the peace. Until James burps. Yuri scrunches her nose, you hide your giggle with a bite of your lip.
"So, what are you planning on doing after you graduate?" Yuri bravely asks, her utensils clinking on the plate as she finishes eating.
"Getting right to the point, huh?" You tilt your head at Yuri, copying the words she uttered a few minutes ago.
Yuri smiles, "aye, you got me there"
Hobie watches the interaction, glad that you made friends with Yuri.
"Well there's this fashion house where an old friend of mine works at, that would be nice working with him. And it's right here in London so I don't have to go far" you wipe your fingers with a napkin.
"Think big, y/n! What's your ultimate goal?" Yuri pats your knee.
"She's right, go big or go home, eh?" Ned chides in.
"You guys are laying it on me, huh?" You shyly say.
"My da applied to the biggest radio station in London when he was younger, he never thought he'd even get accepted! Now look at him, the most famous radio host in the country!" James adds in the conversation.
"Wait, who's your dad?" Hobie asks.
"JJJ" James answers, huffing his chest in pride.
You all look at him surprised, Hobie slowly turns to look at you, mirroring the same expression.
"What the fuck? You're just gonna drop that insane lore just like that?" Ned looks at James, shocked.
"Yeah, and you know what?" James shifts in his seat, hand curling around his drink. "I'm not even gonna elaborate" he snickers, drinking loudly from his mug.
"I see the resemblance" you lean a bit to look at James closely.
"Yeah, just tape a mustache on him and he's a carbon copy" Hobie agrees.
"Let's shut the fuck up about him, yeah?" Yuri cuts in, James softly mumbles out a 'hey'. "You don't even want to tell us" Yuri points a finger in James' direction. "Let's go back to the topic at hand, y/n, what do you want to do after graduation?"
"You don't have to answer if you don't want to," Hobie places his chin on your shoulder, comforting you.
"Aye, you don't have to answer if you don't feel comfortable telling us. I mean I am asking what your hopes and dreams are. It's a tall order." Yuri tells you.
"It's fine, really" you smile bashfully, "I– there's a fashion house in Paris, that I've been dreaming of working at since I was a kid. I guess that's what I want to do after." You fiddle with your thumbs.
Hobie watches the twinkle in your eyes, he smiles sadly at the prospect of you moving so far away from him, but he can't help but feel proud. He sighs, avoiding looking at your face, instead he stares at your discarded plate.
"Now that's the answer I was lookin' for"
"Thought you wanted to model?" James asks, looking confused in your direction. You tilt your head to ask him what he meant. "You two did go to a runway show, I thought it's because you wanted to model or something"
"Oh, that was for research" you answer.
Ned snorts "can't imagine Hobie at a runway show, especially him walking down on it" Ned shields his face with his arms when Hobie throws him another packet of sauce, this time aiming right for his face. It bounces off harmlessly, Ned sticks his tongue out. Hobie mumbles out a 'child', glaring at his friend.
"Mate, show us your runway walk!" James stands up, posing exaggeratedly.
"You first" Hobie lifts his head off your shoulder.
"I asked you first!"
"You asked for jack shit, fuck off" Hobie says flatly. You laugh at them both.
"Yeah, Hobie he did ask you first" Yuri grabs her plate to put in the sink.
"Why don't you do it then?" Hobie raises a pierced brow.
"Sure, If everyone does it" she leans casually on the kitchen island, a towel over her shoulder. "What do you say? You up for a little modeling?" Yuri smirks at you.
"Uh, no thank you" you stand up grabbing yours and Hobie's plates.
"I'll do it, I've got the physic for it" Ned stands up, cleaning up his station. "Let's clean this up, so we have the space"
"Let's goooo!" James grabs his dirty plates, quickly putting it in the sink.
"I've never seen him clean that fast" Hobie whispers to you, taking the plates from your hands. You smile at him, crouching down to take the empty mugs from the floor.
Once the floor gets cleaned (again) James hypes himself up, getting ready to walk. You grab your digital camera from your bag. Maybe if you assign yourself as the photographer they wouldn't notice you not walking with them.
You don't know if it's the sugar high from the soda or James' instigation but whatever it is they all comply. Yuri has a rare grin on her face, Ned punches Hobie's arm while he laughs loudly. James jumps up and down excitedly.
Hobie chuckles when you show him the camera, "go get a good angle of me"
"That's going to be hard" you tease. Hobie elbows your side lightly. Walking to the front of the 'runway', you crouch down for the best angle to take their pictures.
"Alright James! Go" Ned pats James' back.
James walks dramatically, hips swaying from side to side. Once he reaches you, he pouts, exaggerated. Pointing at the camera.
The flash goes off, James nods appreciatively, walking back to the rest of the group. Ned is up next, walking casually. He flips the bird at the camera. You laugh loudly, music to Hobie's ears. He's glad their shenanigans are making you laugh.
Yuri walks like she owns the place, hand on her waist, striking a pose at the end. She pauses for a second so you could take her picture, Yuri throws you a 'rock on sign' with her hand, it shows clearly in the grainy screen. She walks back to the laughing group.
Yuri grabs Hobie's shoulders, shaking him. "Your turn, Hobart!" She chuckles deeply, pushing him towards the starting position, "you better strike a bloody pose or you'll have to do it again!" The other two laugh at Yuri's teasing.
Hobie huffs, walking normally towards you. The instigators yell at him to do it properly.
"Hobie, you fucker! That's not how a proper model walks!" Ned exclaims.
He stops in front of you, the flash goes off, as you laugh at the picture you've taken. Hobie lifts you easily by your arm. You stand up, grinning at him.
"What are you doing?" You say, chuckling.
"You think you could escape? You gotta walk with me" Hobie throws his arm around your shoulder, cackling loudly.
You try to wiggle out of his hold. "Nooo!" Your smile betrays you as you try to hopelessly push him away. Yuri takes the camera from your hand, angling it to take numerous pictures of you two.
You laugh loudly as Hobie imitates (as best as he could) how a model walks, with you in his arms. The flash goes off in tandem with your strides, making it look like you're on an actual runway.
"Love it!" James cheers you on.
"Work it!" Ned adds, clapping his hands.
You stop at the end, grinning from ear to ear. Yuri keeps taking pictures, you're sure it's gonna run out of space soon enough, but it's well worth it. Hobie bends at his waist, grabbing the back of your knees, his other hand slides to your back, looping his arm across it, pulling you to his chest, lifting you off the ground. You yelp, quickly looping your arms to his neck.
"Hobie! What the fu–" click! Yuri captures the moment.
"That one's for the front page!" Yuri laughs, checking the picture on the small screen. James and Ned scooch closer to Yuri, peeking at the pictures. They laugh and smile at the pictures you've taken.
Hobie still holds you up, hands warm against your jeans. "You come here often?" He smiles down at you, eyes twinkling at your flustered face.
"I could strangle you right now" you quip.
"You're not tall enough" Hobie scoffs even though he has a smile on his lips.
"I literally have my arms around your neck"
"Kinky" he narrows his eyes at you, a smirk playing on his lips.
You chuckle nervously, "you can let me go now" you say despite not actually wanting him to let go.
"Nah, you look great in this angle" heat rises in your cheeks when he winks at you.
"Well you don't, you've got a bit of a double chin in this angle" you tease back, almost not getting the sentence out completely because of your laughs.
"I could just drop you, y'know"
"But you won't" you lean up slightly, pinching the back of his neck.
"You sure 'bout that?" He pretends to drop you, you gasp a bit, smacking your palm on his chest. He chuckles at your reaction. "I'm not gonna drop you" he fixes his hold on you.
"Yeah, but I'm getting heavy aren't I?" You grin at how he's trying really hard at carrying you.
"No" he lies, slowly putting you back on the ground.
"Mm-hmm, told you so"
You hum as Yuri gives you an unexpected hug goodbye, reciprocating the embrace, you pull away, holding her at arm's length.
"Watch us play at the concert?" Yuri asks you.
"Of course, I'll be there"
"Ohh, we'll definitely win then" Yuri goes in for another hug, squeezing you.
You and Hobie stand on the boat, watching them drive off in Yuri's beetle.
The sun slowly sets in the horizon, bathing the boat in its orange light. A breeze rushes past, hugging your coat tighter around you.
"You want a ride?"
"Ride?" You got distracted by the rays hitting his face just right, accentuating his sculpted face.
"Yeah, ride y'know, vroom vroom?" He acts as if he's revving his motorcycle's engine.
You laugh again, face hurting from all the smiling. "Are you trying to get rid of me already?"
"Never" he holds the crook of your elbow. "You're not too tired?" Concern on his face.
"A bit, but I'm not done yet with your bed sheet" you stand closer to him, the tips of your shoes kissing his. "Why do you have so many holes in them? I think I know what to get you for your birthday"
"I'm genuinely excited for new bed sheets" he rubs your arm, warming you.
"That's a sign you're getting old"
"Fuck off, I'm only a year older than you" he scoffs with no ounce of malice in it.
"Mm-hmm you're a homeowner now, how does it feel Mr. Hobart Brown" you lift an imaginary microphone to him. He finds your playfulness endearing, smiling softly at your good mood.
He plays along, leaning towards the invisible mic. "It'll be better once you've moved in"
You bite your lip, bashfully looking at him through your eyelashes. Moving the mic back to you "You've gone soft, can you tell us about that?"
Hobie sighs loudly, almost blurting out exactly why he's gone soft around the edges. He holds your wrist, pretending to talk into the imaginary mic "Well Ms. L/n, it comes with age" he surrenders just so he can hear you laugh wholeheartedly again.
"Knew it" You poke his chest. "Now, let me help you set up your bed. I can't let you sleep on the floor"
He bites his tongue at the innuendo that appears in his mind, "I'm not gonna sleep on the floor, I have a mattress"
"Yeah, a mattress that's on the floor!" You put your hands on your hips.
Hobie surrenders to you once again, at least he gets to hangout with you more. He's already getting ready for the screaming match when you two get frustrated with building the complicated bed frame.
You run from the metro station, legs straining, huffing, trying to regulate your breathing. Maybe it's a mistake to wear your new boots to the show, your heels clack against the hard pavement, increasing your chance of stumbling and breaking your ankle.
Fuck, fuck, fuck! You internally curse. You promised the band you'll be there for their final show, I can't believe I overslept! Please tell me they're not on yet! Regretting sleeping late because of your project. You shouldn't have made that complicated embroidery.
You skid to a stop, holding up your ticket to show the security guard. He nods stiffly, you practically run towards the side of the stage, dodging the growing crowd. You quickly gaze over the large stage, finding the staff still setting it all up. Yes! They haven't started yet! Smiling victoriously.
You stop, heels skidding to a halt, smile fading away when you see an unknown woman right next to Hobie, whispering closely to his ear, bare arms around his neck, fingers fiddling with the metal chain he always wears.
Oh
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A/N: This chapter made me miss my chaotic OCs 🥺 Thank you for reading! Consider reblogging if you enjoyed it ❤️
(please tell me if I missed any asterisks, they're placeholders for me during drafting. I feel like I missed some lol)
*pictures above are from pinterest*
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balis77 · 3 months
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Limbus Faust Theory Time
Ok, so I've been thinking about this for a while. Ever since someone on Limbus' TvTropes page pointed out some Faust (Book) symbolism in Faust's base ego I've had this big fucking theory about Faust that I already know can't be confirmed until her Canto. And considering that (By the current order) that's gonna take like 2 years, I'm just gonna say it now.
Faust is actually a clone of the original Faust.
My evidence
Faust's symbol is a Flask. Now while Play!Faust (and the actual guy he was partially based on) was an alchemist, a flask specifically is a symbol of one character in the whole book/play; the Homunculus. The Homunculus is born as a small flame inside of a glass flask (And yes this is what Father from FMA's initial form was based on), created by Faust's (pre-deal with the devil) assistant Wagner who wishes to see the world. To this end, the Homunculus accompanies Faust and Mephistopheles to a Walpurgis Night (Sound familiar?) where they discover the wonders of nature. At the end of their segment, they shatter their flask and become one with the ocean.
It's weird that Project Moon would give Faust, based on a character who's literally the namesake for the term Faustian bargain, a symbol based on the flask instead of say, a demon. Not to mention Faust's sword saying Walpurgisnacht and her association with the in-game event. Unless of course, Faust isn't supposed to represent Faust himself, but rather the Homunculus. And that word almost universally regarded as a term for an artificial approximation of a human.
Every base EGO (Other than Rodion and Mersault for whatever reason) has a shadow across it that correlates to their respective Sinner's backstory in some way. Of the ones we have so far; Yi Sang's is a wing (Representing the wings he saw on his other self in the mirror and his status as a wing asset), Ishmael's is an anchor (Her previous status as a sailor and metaphorically her weighing herself to getting revenge on Ahab), Gregor's is a bunch of grasping hands (His experiences during the Smoke war), and Sinclair's is a tree with a snake going around it (Representing the temptation Kromer gave him that he gave into, which resulted in his family being slaughtered by her).
Faust's base EGO has the shadow of three separate people standing around her. Going off the original story, these would correlate to Faust, Wagner, and Mephistopheles standing around the Homunculus' flask. This is the specific bit pointed out by TvTropes that gave birth to this whole theory.
The abnormality EGO each character gets also tends to relate to them in some way, on a similar level to how each EGO used in a realization in Library of Ruina represented certain experiences. For example, as of the time of this writing Ishmael has Roseate Desire, Blind Obsession (Both relating to obsession and refusal to let go), Capote (Blind rage), and Ardor Blossom Star (Guidance or the lack thereof without a goal).
Faust's current EGO as of this writing include 9:2 (Forbidden knowledge), Telepole (experimentation), Hexnail (Abandonment), and Fluid Sack (Lack of direction), which in my opinion fits more with a creation trying to find their purpose in life after being free of their creator than someone willing to sell their soul for infinite knowledge.
It's mentioned that Faust rarely sleeps, and she rarely seems to be as affected by things like motion sickness or exhaustion as the other Sinners, which points towards her having some kind of inherent enhancement in some way.
The backstory of the homunculus matches with a shared desire among a lot of the other Sinners who we do know the backstory of; namely the idea of exploring the world and finding people you can truly call companions along the way.
Now, why do I think Faust is specifically a clone of the original and not say, a lab-created experiment? Well:
When we see Yi Sang's flashback to him agreeing to join the Company, we see him being recruited by someone who has to be Faust. She has the same voice actor and character name color... except we also never see her face, and the figure notably isn't identified as Faust and is instead credited as ???. Not only does the game usually explicitly identify a character as long as they've been properly introduced, but even the "But Yi Sang didn't know who it was at the time" doesn't work considering he's remembering and knows who Faust is now.
Faust is Sinner #2 instead of Sinner #1. While we can't be certain that Sinner numbers are based on recruitment order (Though there does seem to be some precedence in that Heathcliff seems to have been around when Ishmael was recruited, and he's #7 to her #8, and #10 Dante may have been recruited in their original self before Sinclair, Outis, and Gregor and simply never introduced to the group) it's odd that someone who otherwise acts as the head of the company (Recruiting Vergilius and Yi Sang, making the bus, etc.) would only be #2. In fact it's odd for that person to be in the field in the first place.
We know cloning is possible in the City, enough so that the Head outright has a law governing it. Namely, that only one copy of a person can exist within the City after week's time period. Note how that's worded. Only one copy of a person can exist within the City after a week's time period.
Conveniently, we now know the inner workings of the bus just so happen to have a portal that leads to different parts of the Outskirts.
Faust has a habit of referring to herself in third person, but she's a bit inconsistent about it. In fact, a lot of the time it happens when she's boasting of knowledge specifically. But maybe she's not saying things in third person. Maybe she's intentionally saying "Faust is a well-renowned genius" instead of "I am a well-renowned genius".
Faust being a clone would also fit with who actually runs the company itself. It doesn't seem to be the Purple Tear (The three who attack Dante in the prologue seem to be her agents) and Faust is the one who seems to give everyone instructions, including both Dante and Vergilius, yet there has to be someone coordinating all the other aspects of the company like arranging travel and the Before and After teams. But maybe it is Faust doing everything. Just not the same Faust we're interacting with.
To sum it up, I think Faust is the one running the company, but not the same Faust who's part of the Sinners. I think she made a clone of herself, imparting all her knowledge into it before going to the Outskirts to run the company from there (Just like how Ayin and Carmen had their original facility there), leaving the clone to fulfill its own desire to see the world and also take the risk involved with becoming a Sinner in her place. The reason Vergilius gives so much respect to Faust? Because she's a proxy of the original, the original who recruited him and the other Sinners in the first place. The various shady shit Faust does? All on orders from the original. Faust's constant boasting of her own knowledge in third person? She's trying to convince herself that she's as good as the original Faust instead of just a copy.
If anyone has any evidence they can think of, feel free to reblog with it.
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gourmet-trash · 1 year
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Okay so hear me out but Rose working on some creative writing assignment or short story that involves a character getting stabbed or cut or whatever. And Corinthian proofreading like, "The lead up is good, but I'm telling you, Rosebud, this just isn't what it's like." "I can't write it the way you described it!" "Well why not? I'm the authority here, aren't I?" Rose throws her hands up. "Because you like stabbing things, and the protagonist doesn't like getting stabbed."
Corinthian clicks all three of his tongues and flips to the next page. "That doesn't excuse a poor description of handling the knife."
"I'm sorry, all right? I just understand better when I'm seeing stuff rather than just hearing about it," Rose says, sighing. She shouldn't have waited so long to start this project. And it's not like her creative writing professor is going to spend this much time fussing over the scene, but now that she's aware it's wrong, it's going to eat at her until she gets a pass from the Corinthian.
Corinthian who, after a moment, lifts his head from the pages he's reviewing. And even with his sunglasses on, Rose has learned to recognize that particular look on his face. This can't be good.
"You know," he says, drawing his words out the way he usually does when he's leading into the kind of suggestion he knows doesn't align with "human moral values" as he's put it on more than one occassion. "If you need a visual and a more first hand account of what getting stabbed feels like..."
"No," Rose says immediately.
"Why not? It's a perfect solution!" Corinthian insists.
"I'm not gonna watch you kill somebody!" Rose says. "...Again."
There's a soft click-click of unseen teeth that Rose associates with Corinthian's version of "rolling your eyes." "I'm not suggesting we kill somebody," he says, "Couldn't if I tried anyway!"
"No," Rose repeats when she realizes what, exactly the Corinthian is suggesting.
"Oh, come on," Corinthian says, waving the heavily marked pages of her story between them. "We could at least ask, right? And he could definitely give you some pointers on writing about being stabbed."
"....Well...that part's probably true," Rose admits slowly. Being able to ask specific questions would also be more useful than a bunch of questionable Google searches.
"So....?" She sighs and gets up from her desk, rolling her eyes at the wide grin Corinthian flashes for it. "Just to ask if he can give me some advice! That's it," she says, pulling in the same firm voice she uses to tell Jed that they absolutely are not having chicken fingers for dinner again.
"You want to stab me for a creative writing assignment?" Professor Gadling repeats slowly.
"No!" Rose says at the same time Corinthian says, "Yeah, that sums it up."
Rose shifts on Professor Gadling's couch so she can kick Corinthian's ankle beside her, feeling vindicated by the echoing hiss of air between teeth. "Well that was uncalled for," he grouses, pointedly proping that ankle up on his knee away from her. Like she can't reach the other one if she wants.
They spend a few moments glowering at each other - Rose trying to decide if she wants to kick him again and Corinthian trying to predict said kick so he can avoid it. They're both interrupted by Professor Gadling setting mugs in front of them and lowering himself into an arm chair.
"Thank you, Professor," Rose insists, reaching out to take hers. "What Corinthian meant to say is that I'm working on a story for class and he doesn't think my action scenes are...authentic enough. I was wondering if you might be willing to proofread a bit? Or give me some advice to make it sound more realistic?"
"On account of you having been stabbed so many of times," Corinthian helpfully adds over the top of his mug. Rose doesn't know a lot about British tea, but she knows there's an absurd amount of milk (and probably sugar) in his judging by the color.
Professor Gadling, thank god, looks more amused than anything else. Rose suspects he's used to a lot of this on account of whatever is going on between him and Corinthian and Uncle Morpheus, but she keeps that particular thought to herself. That's a topic better left for gossping with Matthew.
"That is, unfortunately, true," Professor Gadling agrees. "I'm happy to answer any questions you have."
"Now, Rose, didn't you tell me earlier that you have a hard time understanding something that's just said out loud to you, though?" Corinthian drawls.
"Maybe it's just the way you describe things that's hard," she argues, rolling her eyes again when he lays his fingertips against his chest like a stricken southern belle.
Professor Gadling chuckles into his own tea while he watches them bicker, and after a moment he shrugs and rocks back onto his feet. "All right, come on. We're not doing this so close to the rug and the furniture."
"What?" Rose says, but Professor Gadling is already carrying his tea towards the kitchen, and Corinthian wastes no time abandoning his own mug on the coffee table to follow. Rose curses softly and moves Corinthian's mug onto a coaster before hurrying after them.
"Professor, you really don't have to do this," she insists.
But by then, Professor Gadling has already shrugged out of his cardigan and is considering the shirt underneath. "Probably more helpful to see the blood spread on the fabric, right?"
"Yeah, that would fit the scene better," Corinthian agrees, flipping a knife over his fingers and looking her way. "Right, Rosebud?"
When she doesn't immediately answer, Professor Gadling looks over, and something in her expression must read as more than concerned for his safety, because he walks over and puts a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, it's okay. If it'll help what you're writing, I really don't mind, Rose. And frankly, if I don't let him stab something now, he's probably going to find something to stab," he jokes with a pointed glance at Corinthian.
Corinthian does not correct him, so he's probably right about that.
Even so, Professor Gadling's expression is soft when he turns back to her." But if it's not something you're going to be comfortable seeing, we also don't have to do this. We can go back to the couch and you can ask questions. I'll try to describe things better than Cor does."
She makes a small, amused sound, but she still feels her brows knitting in together. Was she comfortable seeing this? She hadn't even stopped to consider that, so set as she'd been that this wouldn't be a possibility in the first place. And now that it was, she didn't know if she wanted it to be.
Corinthian leans his hip against the counter beside them and tilts his head. "You like horror movies, Rose?"
She blinks, turning from Professor Gadling's concerned expression to Corinthian's considerably more mild one. "Um...yeah, I do."
"Cause in a horror movie, even if people are getting hurt, you know they're actually okay, right?" he reasons. "The actors walk away right as rain after the credits start rolling."
She frowns slightly but nods.
"Hob does that too. You know he's actually okay and he'll walk away right as rain after all this. Not that different from watching a real good horror movie."
Professor Gadling makes a soft, amused sound, and when Rose glances back at him, he has a wry, affectionate look on his face. "That's...not a bad way of putting it," he agrees. "Even though none of those actors are actually getting stabbed."
"Details," Corinthian scoffs.
"And you're sure you're okay with this Professor?" Rose asks, relaxing a bit when he nods.
"I wouldn't have said yes otherwise. And stab wounds don't take that long to heal. I can even show you when it's healed up if that'll help."
Rose glances between them, Professor Gadling waiting patiently for her to decide what she'd like to do and Corinthian looking like he might jump in and start stabbing at a moment's notice regardless.
Something about the scenario feels a little too familiar. Not for her, of course. But between the two of them. She's starting to think this isn't the first time Professor Gadling has let himself get stabbed, and she's starting to think she doesn't want to look too closely into that.
"....Uncle Morpheus isn't going to like this," she points out, watching the two of them exchange a quiet, but communicative glance.
"Well your Uncle Morpheus doesn't have to know if we hurry up," Corinthian insists, lifting a wrist to check his watch. "We still got some time before he gets back with Jed."
Professor Gadling snorts softly. "We'll worry about Morpheus," he says. "So?"
"....Okay. Okay, yeah, let me just grab my notebook!"
"Attagirl!" Corinthian crows, shaking his knife a bit like one might a trophy they've won. And as soon as she's back, he waves her over to show her the grip he has on the handle so she can jot down notes.
And that's how Rose spends the afternoon in Professor Gadling's kitchen being shown precise knife handling techniques, blood spatter behavior, and getting a first hand account of what being stabbed feels like in real time. All of it turn out to be tremendously helpful in her story edits - she gets Corinthian and Professor Gadling's approval before turning it in. (The former insists she should consider writing more action like this in the future and he's, of course, happy to help with additional research.)
She gets an A. [ next → ]
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greenerteacups · 3 months
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Hi! Just wanted to say the latest chapter is lovely & amazing & sweet & had me smiling the whole time! I absolutely love your characterisation of everyone, especially Draco, so it was so so lovely to return to this world & to his thoughts!! with his best friend and crush at malfoy manor no less! All the yearning is already off to a great start hehe I am so excited for the rest of book 5!
Wanted to ask you how has it been for you to write this new book and volume? Has your writing process changed since when you’d first begun taking on a long form project like this?
& also are there any moments or surprises in this book that you’re especially excited about?
sending so much love & gratitude for you and your incredible works 💓
Thank you so much! This is really encouraging, I so appreciate it.
Inasmuch as I can use this metaphor without having kids myself, I sort of see each of the books as a different child. The first one flew out in basically a few weeks of very intensive writing, and it was a total dream — plot, pacing, symbolism, major beats, all fell into place basically without effort. The character stuff was the hardest, as I've written about before, but even then, the glorious part of writing beginnings is it's the most energy you'll ever have for a project, so the lows were pretty soft lows. Book 2, in contrast, I had to drag kicking and screaming by its ankle from under the bottommost mattress of my brain. It's one of my least favorite books (tone problem; COS has killer plot/setting/ingredients for a YA novel, but it's stuck in the doldrums of Harry Potter's well-documented Early-Installment Weirdness, before Cedric Diggory slams the gas and upshifts the whole series into its correct age bracket). More specifically, once I'd gone through and picked out everything in the book that happened because of Lucius, I didn't have a plot — hey alexa how do you rewrite Chamber of Secrets when We Got No Fucking Chamber Of Secrets — and oh by the way, even if you want to do a moody tone/political setup book, remember that your protagonists are still twelve, so if you go too dark or too intense, you'll risk torpedoing your readers' suspension of disbelief. Good luck, Charlie.
Book 3 felt the most like its own novel, if that makes sense? It's the last truly feel-good book of the series; it's a great stand-alone mystery novel with relatively low stakes. Plus you get a bunch of the big series icons: patronuses, dementors, werewolves, Hogsmeade, the Marauders' Map, and time turners arithmancy. It just felt like a good old-fashioned motherfucking romp of a mystery/adventure story, before any of the complex character work and major stakes of the late books come in.
Book 4 was the most fun I've had writing anything maybe ever. I don't even know what it was. Maybe the tournament arc, honestly? Love me a tournament arc. But in any case, I opened every new chapter feeling a tingle of excitement for what I was gonna get to do. Oh, and the romance started, finally, Jesus God (if it feels like a slow burn reading, just imagine what it felt like writing it, when everything takes ten times as long, and you have to figure out how to word the fucker.)
Book 5, in contrast, has felt much less like that tingle of "here we go!" and more like "oh, man, this is gonna be cool." Because this is the arc of the story that composed the original idea for Lionheart, literally years ago, and to be honest, I didn't think I'd get this far! If you'd asked me "do you know that it's going to take you 500,000 words of backstory before you can start writing that concept you're thinking about, and you're going to do it anyway?" I would have said: "absolutely not, strange mind-reader!" But like... I'm here! Finally! And it's... real now? Like, this isn't just a bunch of clips of scenes in my head anymore! That's rad!
That being said, it's definitely been slower than Book 4, because I kept switching back to my outline document to make sure that certain things were set up properly, and that I hadn't lost any of the plot threads or forgotten a minor beat that was vitally important for the story three chapters later. And I had a minor crisis about three months ago when I ripped out about 8 chapters in the first third of the book — basically everything from September to December — because I'd done a readthrough to check pacing (big mistake! never edit while drafting, that's satan talking) and realized I had a missing storyline. Like, there was a whole layer of the story that was just. Missing. Not there. And the existing text really couldn't fit another thread, so instead of taking weeks to pore through and try to sift out what I could save, I needed to factory reset and start over. And I didn't want to! I vividly remember sitting there with my head in my hands, trying not to weep, because I'd decimated 90,000 words of work in a single edit. But it had to be done. Because the story wasn't going to work. And now (hopefully) it will.
And of course, there's still that sense of excitement and exhilaration from before. Always. But whereas Book 4 felt like a delicious chocolate pudding, Book 5 is a medium-rare steak.
(Book 6, so far, is four shots of espresso and a whiskey chaser. FWIW.)
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indiaalphawhiskey · 1 year
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Hii! First off I absolutely adore your writing and I'm super excited for your upcoming fics, but I was wondering what are your favorite go-to fics (by other authors) that you want to read again and again?
Hello, love!
I did this once, but I can’t seem to find the post (go figure) so I’m happy to do it again. ❤️ I actually have a folder on my Kindle titled Comfort Fics and these are what’s in there. (I also have a bunch of fics from the same authors, but I thought it best to rec one per author. Check out their other stuff if you haven’t already.)
Most Re-Read Fic
🏈 Soft Hands, Fast Feet, Can’t Lose by dolce_piccante
This fic has, without a doubt, my most favorite version of Louis ever written. But more than that, I think that this is just a very nostalgic fic for me, because it was released about six months into me falling into the fandom, and so it kind of reminds me of that time where I was discovering fics and fandom and Larry for the first time. I feel like whenever I go back to it, it feels like that slice of time all over again. Epitome of a comfort fic.
Snack Fic Re-Read
🌬️Fugue by iwillpaintasongforlou
This is just the most perfect single-sitting fic ever. It has everything you need to feel like you’ve read something full and all consuming. I’m a really big fan of the romantic build up, and I love that this has that, even in what is technically an established relationship trope. Love, love, love.
Fave Bedtime Re-Read
🕊️ Counting the Steps Between Us by zarah5
I keep crawling back to this fic like a long lost lover. It’s just written in such a way that hits the spot every time, with the perfect amount of tension and storytelling for you to feel like you’ve earned it by the time they get together.
Best Smut Re-Read
🫦 Hike Up Your Skirt (and Show Your World to Me) by Brooklyn_Babylon / @twopoppies
When this was being written, I told @twopoppies that it was going to overthrow Are You Gonna Be My Girl? by LoadedGunn as my holy grail smut fic and I wasn’t wrong. I mean… this fic’s reputation precedes it. It just gets the job done in the most delicious, dark, dirty way. I get that the themes might not be for everyone, but it’s definitely for me. If you’re specifically looking for something that can only be described as delectable debauchery, you’ve found it. (Read the tags!)
Specific Mood Re-Read
🪐 Saved Tonight by Anonymous*
Harry's the world's most persistent seduction-baker, a questionable dog-sitter, and Louis' biggest fan. Louis hasn't written in years, is trying to pass loneliness off as cynicism, and absolutely hates his fans. It's probably destiny.
This fic is just really, really special to me. It’s soft in the most weird and wonderful way, and I’ve not found another fic that makes me feel the way this does. I think the best way to describe this is that it’s a fic that envelopes you in such a specific setting that you find yourself going back to it to live in that place for a little while.
*The author has since taken it down, and I don’t know by what username they prefer to go by, so I just listed it as Anonymous.
A/B/O Re-Read
🐺 Where You Lay by HamPalpert
When Louis's upcoming heat threatens his success at his new dream job, he asks the best (and only) person he can think of to help him through it: his best mates' best mate, Harry Styles. Harry reluctantly accepts, and together the two navigate a strange friends with benefits relationship that quickly turns complicated.
A/B/O is my most favorite trope ever, but because there are a lot of different permutations of the “rules”, it’s often hard for me to find an A/B/O fic that includes everything I really really really love about the trope. This is that fic for me.
Best Soft Re-Read
🎵 Make Your Words A Weapon by HelloAmHere / @helloamhere
The way Harry is written in this fic is everything to me. This fic is soft in the most lovely way, and there’s something so healing in the way it discusses trauma without ever sacrificing the romance in the fic. This has a piece of dialogue that I think about nearly monthly, but I won’t share it cause I want you to experience it for yourself first.
Holy Grail Re-Read
⏳my heart is breathing for this moment in time by usedtothebeach
Let me start off by saying this fic is an investment, but Jesus is it worth it. This is just the most unique blend of canon and Larry lore ever, and it just does it so, so perfectly. If you’re looking for a fic that will make you see Larry’s love story as the most perfect insider version of it ever, this is the fic. It’s so good that I never want to read/watch the original Time Traveler’s Wife. As far as I’m concerned, this is the original. (Don't forget to read the companion piece feel myself fall, make a joke of it all.)
Honorable Mentions
(I haven’t re-read these yet only because I feel like I’ve just finished them and I’m giving myself some time to miss them so much that it feels like the first time all over again.)
🗽 Mine Would Be You by @crinkle-eyed-boo
An exes-to-lovers for the ages. This fic is painfully beautiful, and there’s something about these characters that have stood (and will continue to stand) the rest of time. I think this is a gorgeously mature fic that deals with the complexities of love and romance in a way that’s rare. This is one of the most realistic depictions of Harry and Louis that feels true to who they are in every era.
🦋 of the divine by @thedevilinmybrain
Harry in this is literally ethereal, but also, the way the romance is layered over religious themes is just done in such a fulfilling and delicious way. I love fics that manage to marry such specific knowledge with a story that’s still romantic and wildly sexy. This is a journey, and just thinking about it makes me want to pick it up immediately.
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Hi! I'm kinda here to ask for clarification on something you said; hope you won't mind^. You say that Crowley's dark grey comment is one of the more honest and introspective things he says: that kinda comes across to me like you saying that Crowley's saying he's mostly bad with a capacity for good* and that's a fair assessment of him. I would have said it's more that he's mostly good with a capacity for bad**, baggages worth of issues and a bunch of flaws, primarily related to arrogance***, but that's technically beside the point: I also felt like that was the direction your character analysis of him was going. I'm now wondering whether I misunderstood the dark grey comment or misunderstood the analyses... what does your exactly mean, exactly?
*Concepts decapitalised because I'm talking about more human than Heavenly or Hellish standards of good and bad.
**Concepts decapitalised: see above.
***Blinkered was the word you used, I believe? It's a lovely expression.
^This isn't meant accusatory and I did my best not to sound like it, but I know you've had to field a few asks about yes, you do like Crowley very much, your criticism of him doesn't mean that's not the case, and I can only imagine how annoying that must be: feel free to can this if it comes across that way.
oh anon sweetheart 💕 don't worry about the tone or wording - your tone is perfectly polite and courteous, and i thank you for that!!! others have not been as conscientious 💀 though, be careful what you wish for in asking this, because it's gonna be lengthy 🫠
how you interpreted it is exactly as i meant it; i do think, when taking crowley's characterisation in the show (his book characterisation, for me, is rather different), crowley for me is a darker character with the capacity for light, rather than the other way around. and im going to specifically use darker and lighter, as opposed to bad and good respectively, because upon reflection, maybe that's more accurate.
yeah, to me, he is a dark character; if you've read any of my other asks/metas, please forgive me for repeating stuff, but imo the narrative tells us that he is more commonly swimming in darker tendencies than light. feel free to skip the next part and scroll to here*, because i will be recounting specific scenarios off the top of my head (going in chronological order):
not really explored fully in the pre-fall scene, because it runs throughout the show as a prominent theme; crowley is either unaware of why he fell (possibly true), or blatantly lies to himself and others about why he fell (equally plausible). his story about it changes, or at best is simply told in fragments... but his overall demeanour of when (e.g.) he's confronted with news of the apocalypse ("why me?"), when coupled with this, suggests a tendency towards blame avoidance, with a hearty dose of chip-on-your-shoulder complex
tempts aziraphale into eating in job; it doesn't really matter whether or not aziraphale ends up liking food and wine or not - he rejects the wine, and crowley immediately changes tack to offer food instead, citing that he can't get drunk on it, and of course he's not tempting him (absolutely is) so it's fine. aziraphale may have been curious about it, and this may be what crowley picks up on, but compare this scene to where aziraphale offers muriel a cupperty, and doesn't push when they refuse drinking it... hmm. (perceived feeder kink or not, crowley's face at the end of this scene screams satisfaction at his corruption)
this one is a little iffy, granted, but adding it anyway - blatantly dismisses aziraphale's concerns about the arrangement (heaven would be rather angry, but nowhere near how hell would retaliate - "they'll destroy you!), and pushes anyway. it's again another case of pushing for what he wants (and yes, true, what aziraphale secretly wants - which crowley detects and capitalises on), dismissing aziraphale's worries that, as we can surmise later on, were not unfounded
lets the french guard be taken off to his death. this is debatable, depending on whether you consider the guard to be a good or bad person in the context of the reign of terror, and deserving of execution as a result, but they could have easily escaped the cell unscathed without unfreezing the guard - ultimately, who are they (yep, including aziraphale here too, he's equally as culpable) to decide if he should die?
in the same vein, sends two watchmen falling to their deaths down a deep pit, and his only remark is, "might have slightly overdone it on the hole..."
(this one is tricky, but it rubbed me up the wrong way on first watch and thereafter so im including it) when morag dies, crowley's handling of the situation only really serves - imo - to rub it in aziraphale's face, when he already feels guilty enough for the both of them. i realise that he had to labour the point to aziraphale, and was just being honest - fair, he has a point! - but it came across as simply unkind and uncharitable... again, towards someone we are assuming he cares deeply about...
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this one is in fact going to lean on some interpretation, but i think it's one that is so widely implied in canon that i think it might as well be; something happened to crowley between 1827 and 1862, and within that time, i don't think he was on best terms with aziraphale, given aziraphale's coldness when he arrives in st james' park. so, we could - could - surmise that he just suddenly asks for holy water from aziraphale, something that would be dangerous for them both and seems to exploit their friendship. he doesn't adequately explain why he needs it ("just insurance" is not sufficient at all imo), and taking offence to aziraphale's use of 'fraternising ' then contextually feels a little hypocritical
lies to aziraphale about having experience with a gun, banking on using a miracle if need be - which ultimately puts aziraphale's 'life' on the line, rather than being honest. he may well just want to make aziraphale happy, sure, but aziraphale goes into the bullet catch without all the facts - his face when crowley admits he's never shit (edit: meant to say shot, obviously, but leaving it in for @fabledshadow💕) a gun before says it all, really
when aziraphale saves his life with the photo trick, he doesn't thank him, or acknowledge any kind of gratitude at all, that it saved him from a rather bleak fate at the hands of hell. he may well be insulting aziraphale's skills to dissuade him from a repeat occurrence of the bullet catch (fair!), but he is also insulting the very thing that got him out of danger... and the very thing that aziraphale obviously takes a lot of joy, pleasure, and pride in (and, yk, what crowley was actively encouraging just a few hours previous). it was justified, to a certain extent, but it was... unkind
(the Big One - so let's get it over with) tries to tempt aziraphale into killing a child - antichrist or not - and continues to persuade him into it despite aziraphale evidently being uncomfortable with the prospect. it also indicates how little he knows aziraphale in this respect; regardless of whether it would be the antichrist or not, this is the angel who tried to preserve humanity by offering a sword to pregnant eve, and was ultimately crucial in protecting job's children. even in mesopotamia, you can see how subtley appalled he is with killing children - despite him trying to rationalise it by saying it's the great plan etc. killing a child, id wager, would destroy aziraphale. i digress, but if crowley loves aziraphale as much as he (and the fandom) likes to think by s1, it's rather dark that he would try manipulating aziraphale into doing this in the first place, and return to the suggestion again not once (bandstand) but twice (airfield)
sets up an elaborate trick just to make a point to aziraphale on the use of guns, and then lets innocent humans get arrested on what i would say would be very serious charges in s1 (i mean, let alone firearms offences, arguably it could be charged as attempt murder 💀)
hits anathema and acts in such a way that he probably understands that he equally hit her and she hit him, yet is more preoccupied with fixing the bentley, something he could miracle repaired later on... as opposed to helping her back to her feet and ensuring she was alright. he also is prepared, after all this, to reject offering her a lift, excusing that there's nowhere to put her bike
backhands "clever" with "stupid", because aziraphale is doing something (trying to reach god directly as a last resort) he doesn't think is worthwhile. aziraphale finds out that that is true, but once again, im gonna ring the 'unkind' bell
doesn't tell aziraphale about what went down with gabriel, or how closely hell is keeping an eye on him, or the threat of the BOL, or that he's living in his car, or what happened in heaven/the issue of the second coming. there are loads of other little things too, but he lies by omission, whilst maintaining that he doesn't lie to aziraphale, and routinely keeps information from aziraphale - not only information that would be beneficial to share in the general sense, but information that directly impacts aziraphale, and comprises both of their safeties. has a tendency towards a hero complex that ends up either going wrong/unfulfilled ("i won't leave you on your own" then immediately buggers off to heaven) or attempts to remove aziraphale's agency and dismisses him outright ("i have a suggestion-" "ive got this.")
abandons aziraphale when he is set in doing something that is not only in his very nature to do, but when he does it because he doesn't have all the facts (hides jim). despite his assertion that aziraphale shouldnt do it because jim poses a threat, he then leaves aziraphale to face it alone. it's unknown how soon crowley would have come back to the bookshop if it weren't for the BOL threat - we literally do not know this - and he reluctantly does the apology dance (arguably when he wholeheartedly believes he was in the right) in order to be allowed near aziraphale again. it's also implied that aziraphale always does the dance, whereas crowley doesn't - which suggests to me once again the whole thing about crowley avoiding blame
pushes jim into remembering stuff despite it obviously causing him pain and discomfort - on one hand, sure, he's not certain that gabriel isn't lurking about in there, but he does it again in ep5 when, as far as he's assessed with the whole jump-out-the-window thing (a whole other thing that need addressing), jim is in fact... just jim
plays around with maggie and nina (the both of them do, and they're both at huge fault for this, it's insane) like they're toys, without any regard for their personal thoughts or feelings, as if they have the right to do this
encourages jim to jump out a window!!! okay fine, yes, he fears that gabriel is lurking in there and is doing it as a test, but even he looks somewhat alarmed when jim is clambering over the windowsill - and objectively it's an atrocious thing to do. and ultimately it doesnt exactly prove anything more than what he already knows; if gabriel was chilling in there, and was so committed to the bit to drink hot chocolate, call crowley his friend with a straight face, speak to crowley as such as friend, and generally act the way he does... if gabriel is that good an actor? well, i can't imagine jumping a window would be beneath gabriel to do, to maintain his cover. so to me, crowley realised that what he's asked has crossed a line
and, im sorry, but - kisses aziraphale. now is probably the worst climate imaginable (ie. the "do that again" era) to be discussing my take on the kiss, but my read has largely always been that it was a temptation, and a cruel one at that. it was desperate, and heartbreaking, and i understand why crowley did it - but it was imo a largely cruel and selfish manipulation for aziraphale to betray himself, and stay with him. i love the kiss for what it is and represents, but as a result i just... yeah, im not a "do that again" girlie, because i think aziraphale absolutely recognised the kiss for what it 'was'.
anon, if you have made it this far... im so sorry. it's been helpful to summarise all of it though, so thank you for giving me an opportunity to do so!!✨
*now. the thing is, the vast majority of these incidents, these actions and behaviours (and probably loads besides that ive missed) are not evil. they are not even necessarily bad, not in the classic sense. a lot of them have well-founded explanations, sometimes outright justifications, and it's totally understandable why crowley makes them (even just narratively ie. even without speculating or inferring in any kind of trauma he may have suffered behind the scenes if the story as it currently stands).
id argue, personally, that each one of these is dark in their own way - dark, in the sense that they are morally ambiguous at best, immoral at worst. they might not be bad on their own merit, but arguably it is possible to see them as wrong.
we can absolutely look at crowley and think he is good - and i agree!... to a certain extent. even if you oust a good few of the above examples, there are a few that, imo, if ignored or excused, kind of strays into blatant mollycoddling of the character. crowley absolutely has the capacity for good and right - his objection to the flood, saving job's children, stopping the apocalypse, helping aziraphale many a time, are all prime examples (even if you could argue against each of these which... well, this ask is long enough so another time, maybe) - and i think will ultimately be guided by what he considers to be the right thing to do.
but when i say that his assessment of being "very dark grey", the above is why i think this is him being either extremely honest, or accidentally incredibly insightful about himself. it's not necessarily a dislikeable thing to be - crowley being more dark than light - but given the evidence as i see it, he's aware that he's not a wholly good person, more one that leans towards the objectively immoral than otherwise, giving more weight to when he does do good. and the thing is, he regularly asserts this - being 'bad' - to aziraphale.
in doing so - constantly saying he's not nice, rejecting thanks etc - maybe, actually, it's not as humble or self-effacing as aziraphale, or the fandom, likes to think it is. why shouldn't we consider that crowley might, actually, be a bit of an anti-hero? it doesn't make him any less of an empathetic, likeable, or compelling character - it just simply acknowledges that he may not be as irreproachable or scrupulous character as we might like to think he is!✨
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royalberryriku · 4 months
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Some Thoughts on the 'Writing Process'™
So I see a lot of writers struggle with these very specific things, AKA:
The Staring at the Blank Page Thing where you struggle to come up with ideas, words, etc
The Word Counting Counting where you cannot stop counting your word count
The 'Can Someone ELSE Proofread This Because I Don't Want to Read It' dilemma
The 'How Do I STOP Hating Everything I Write' issue which also leads into the 'How Do I Stop Scrapping Everything' issue
And finally the 'I DONT WANT TO WRITE I WANT TO IMAGINE IT INSTEAD' problem
There are various things that can make writing hard, but I have had some thoughts! And maybe they might just be useful.
So for Issue Number 1, I've found that, if you want to write, NEVER do it before you already have the ideas. Looking at a blank page just makes it harder. You get bored and that makes writing feel boring. Of course, this is all just my opinion, maybe this actually works for you. BUT! In my own personal experience, I find that actually LIMITING how often I open my document helps a bunch. No matter how much you wanna write, there's no point torturing yourself over how little you're doing and shaming or pressuring yourself to get it done. Punishing yourself is just gonna kill your inspiration and, obviously, you're not going to want to write if you now associate it with punishment for not writing. It's a cycle of just being mean to yourself. Well, don't wanna be unproductive? As silly and counterproductive as it sounds; self care is the answer which I've found that actually works.
This actually leads into Issue Number 2. I think these probably stem from the same issue; punishing yourself for not producing. Again, punishing yourself and shaming yourself into just staring at a blank screen or staring at how little the word count is or how much you have to go until your goal is just going to kill your inspiration and make you bored. Shaming doesn't get you to write more, or faster or suddenly become more productive. Believe it or not? Self care and making it fun is what makes a fun story come to life. You're not just writing a block of text that's a recount to sell in this capitalist hellhole (I mean you are but that doesn't mean the process has to be bound by capitalism because FUCK CAPITALISM), you're writing a story you wanna tell; focus on the story before the method and don't punish yourself for it not just magically appearing. These things take time, they take trial, error, mistakes and various drafts, but FIRST? They take those little moments where you just daydream scenes and the imagination you have to exist at all. Focus first on the story and your own health and the rest will come, slowly but surely. Anyway that was a lot of words to essentially just say; don't look at the word count, focus on the story and the length will follow regardless. It's fine to check and obviously, you'll just have to at some point. But please please try and do what you can to avoid checking, even use a different method. I use page count because it's so varied and inaccurate that it actually doesn't matter and just tricks my brain into using that to see my very general progress and makes it seem bigger than it actually is. It also can just be easier to check at a glance if I want to make sure the structure of each chapter is more or less consistent enough.
Issue Number 3 is tricky, mostly because once you've made something, it can be legitimately very boring to reread everything you JUST wrote. For me, I'm sort of chaotic in that I reread as I go or do it very randomly and rewrite as I come up with things. The good thing is though that what you write isn't set in stone. It's malleable and fluid. I always have a cut and paste section on my computer where I just... cut and page and rearrange things as I think of it. I don't worry about "oh but what if I mess up" because you're ALWAYS gonna mess up! That's actually one of the cool things about writing, you CAN mess up and go back and reread it eventually to make it work a bit better after all the other chaotic going-back-and-fixing-things. Which brings me to my main point (especially if you don't want to replicate my chaoticness) I try to leave proofreading itself as much as I can for the end of it all. As in, I just let myself write, yes rearranging and going back whenever I want, but never throwing anything OUT, never scrapping the whole document because it's gonna have bits you might reuse. And more to the point, it gives you a lose skeleton to base your next draft on. It's more work but I find it really reassuring in that you don't judge every little thing as you go, but just say "meh, fuck it!" and write whatever works, then rewrite it in a separate document all over again, never deleting the last one so you can copy and page whatever you liked from the first draft, or second, or third, and use each mistake and flaw. Recycling is good folks, even just in writing. Or... at least it is for me. If this doesn't work for you, it doesn't work for you, but this is just what helps me so maybe it might help you too.
This also goes into Issue Number 4. Honestly, you're never gonna not be your biggest critic. But! You can at least make your work feel a bit more positive and go in with a "eh who cares?" mindset into writing. It may not erase the "wow this is hot garbage" feeling, but it'll feel a bit more like "well this is MY hot garbage and I don't care if it's bad or good, because at least it was fun". Plus, like I said; recycling is very good. The best way to force yourself not to hate something is to get really damn used to it, AKA, never getting rid of it. Which is hard, I know. Especially if you just really freaking hate it. And, well, it's not like I'm saying you should keep absolutely every little thing, I don't want you all to get clutter and folders upon folders of stuff you won't use...buuut I am saying it helps to keep things and get comfortable in your own messiness and imperfection. It starts to feel normal at least, or for me it does, and slowly you kind of just...accept it. Also, making fun little things to enjoy your ideas away from your writing itself. If you draw? Make fanart. Maybe even make AUs in your head. Maybe make some mood boards. HYPE YOURSELF UP! Or as best you can at least, and never force things. If you aren't feeling this particular story right now? Move on to another project and yes having WIPs can be annoying but sometimes it's necessary. Again, these are all just my opinions and stuff I do when I struggle with these; I'm not commanding anyone to do anything and as always, maybe this won't work for you personally. But hey, doesn't hurt to give it a try first and see if it works, or maybe something else will. Whatever the case, this is just my own two cents.
And finally, Number 5. Honestly? This isn't so much as issue in and of itself as much as just an issue of prioritisation. Imagination is the most important part of even coming up with a story to begin with and, honestly, imagining scenes can really help build a mental image of what you want to describe and how things look and feel. One thing, a little cheat code you could say, that I've found is melding daydreaming with research. Which makes absolutely no sense since this is the most funnest part with the most boring part of writing, but hey, it works surprisingly well I assure you. So here's the setup I have; no doc (except for if I really need to jot down some notes), then images that remind me of my work (Pinterest boards maybe, a few mood boards, etc), then the research. I go between each of these; daydreaming. The result? I imagine scenes with the research I want; motifs that work with themes, imagery to use in scenes, what architecture works, what the weapons look like. Then, before I even write, I go back and still daydream WITH what I've researched and it sticks in my mind way better than even the notes I've made. Speaking of, with notes, I like to doodle in the margins of them, make them fun, highlight with fun colours. Sometimes? Research, note taking and writing doesn't have to be work in and of itself, sometimes it can be fun and a little quest of your own. Sometimes making writing and research feel like you're daydreaming can make all the difference between begrudgingly slugging through a chapter, or just having fun writing a new scene you just imagined and that starts to form into something new and exciting.
TLDR: Make writing fun! Like Mary Poppins once said; "a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down". Sometimes it's actually better to make the work into a treat instead of using a treat as a bribe or punishing yourself. In fact, making any part of the process into a punishment for not working just makes everything harder.
ALSO! Just in general, take breaks! It's easy to forget what you're doing (especially once it becomes fun) and forget to take care of yourself both physically and mentally. Too much time looking at a screen (or even just a page) can be straining! Remember to eat! Remember to drink water and sleep! Get up and walk around if you can, go to the bathroom and maybe even go for a little walk outside and get some Vitamin D if you're able to. Remember to maybe take a few days away from writing so you can come at it again with a refreshed mind and new perspective, sometimes you can get boggled down and start getting too focused on one little thing. It's good to let yourself have half an hour, an hour or even a few days to just refresh and go out and get new inspiration just from living. Sometimes the key to writing and ideas is to just stop writing for a bit and to just take a breath.
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cringefail-hermitry · 4 months
Text
I've been wanting to make a post like this for a while now, and well, having just finished a crucial stage of my life, I think this is a good a time as any.
It's gonna be a long one
Like, *LONG* long
Like, I Am Going To Mention Every Single One Of My Mutuals By Name long (if you'd rather not be tagged in the future, do warn me)
First of all, the primary purpose of this post is as a letter of thanks for the wonderful months you Tumblr peeps have provided me this year. I am not hesitant to say joining the hellsite was the single best decision I have made in the last 12 months, heck, I think about 2/3rds of the friends I mantain regular contact with nowadays came from here. But this wouldn't be a long post if it was just a brief "thanks y'all for improving my life". I'm gonna get into detail. And I'm gonna be sappy about it. You can't stop me. You're not my mother. And not even my mother could stop me from posting this.
I would've said "I thought long and hard about who I'd start with", if there was any question about it. There isn't. @tearychildren, where do I even fucking begin. I can't really say anything too specific because if I begin I don't think I'll stop and half this post is gonna be about you, and this is already a very long post, so I'm just going to leave it at this, you already know well enough just how much you matter to me.
Going onwards, another of the early spots goes to who I believe was my first mutual, definitely one of the first people I followed, @chlorohexidine, a long-time mutual and recent good friend, our daily chats, however short, never cease to be highlights of my days, your art is really cute (love me some rounded shapes) and brainstorming ideas for your TTRPG campaigns is always fun (I really like your worldbuilding, too). It's only fair to mention your (and my, just needed to make this segue well) good friend @xsenpi, infodumping touhou to you both genuinely got me through that month, and Undertale 2: Revenge of The Robots with Rei and TC has been a blast so far.
@soundsofastar is another that warrants special mention for actually changing my brain chemistry and making me appreciate the local wildlife even more than usual (if we ever meet in person, WE ARE GOING ON A NICE LONG WALK TO LOOK AT BIRDS TOGETHER, WHEREVER IT IS WE ARE WHEN THAT HAPPENS, MARK MY WORDS). Your art also makes me feel things. Not many things make me feel stuff a lot. That is impressive. I should be in a good spot to finish reading the Illuminae Files within the next few days, so please do pester me about it, otherwise the piece of media that the next person I'll talk about recommended to me will consume all the time I'd read it in.
So, the next person I'll talk about, @northwest-cryptid, thanks for letting me use our DMs as my Mabinotepad, and for getting me into Mabinogi in the first place, you've been both the direct and the indirect cause of many good times, and I gotta be honest I kinda admire you a lil' bit (and if you know anything about how I talk, I am horrible at expressing vulnerability, admiration and these sorts of emotions without a bunch of euphemisms unless I'm doing this sort of tangent where I attempt to talk about myself in a more depersonalized way, so what that sentence there essentially means is "I admire you a lot and you are an inspiration").
Another pivotal figure in how this year shaped out is @ratlesshonret, creator of The Bird Nest, site of many good times, who has exposed me and many others to some wonderful media (I AM GOING TO FINISH POCKET MIRROR SOMETIME, MARK MY WORDS), reading through all the chats in the server is usually a blast, too. Your contributions to my life cannot be understated. Seriously, thanks.
The next great friend I'll mention is @transgender-lea-crosscode, we've started talking more only recently, but have already bonded a fair bit, I reckon, damn you're good at Blazblue. You've dared to make me good at the game and for that, I commend you. You should say words about Zeroranger in my general direction sometime, I'd be happy to hear/read them.
Now for those mutuals that I don't really speak to, but are responsible for like, 75% of my total notes, like, everyone is more than welcome to jump into my DMs and start talking about anything whenever, but y'all specifically are folk I'd have started talking with regularly ages ago if I knew what to talk about. @hoshinoreika2004, @ward-leon, @edenplumreal, @tabnk2, @tapok-eve , @boofbv and @sorcerousbrick, thanks for all the lil' dopamine hits.
Shoutouts to @wretchedbirdthing for being normal about that bird, you're a blast to see on my dash and I wish you luck snapping those collarbones in twain to hear those gay little squawks.
@freiflies and @ottisbuns, alongside Tapok, Vic and Honret, y'all bring life into The Bird Nest, and although I haven't really shown up much there recently, I still read most of everything, the words are cool, keep up the good work!
@genericgirl420 and @mikusays-transrights, you two are the mutuals that suffer the least with The Distances, so let's do this in a more, well, local fashion. É genuinamente bom ver que a comunidade brasileira do tumblr está ativa e saudável, aumenta minhas esperanças de encontrar outras criaturinhas desse site maligno pelas ruas, sua presença, por si só, já melhora meus ânimos, por isso, agradeço profundamente.
Ok back to speaking in simplified Old German. This next section goes out to @lemocoffe and @teacup-of-doom, both of whom I haven't really interacted much, but what little there was was quite great, this is, in fact, an invite to do more of the interact-y thing. Y'all are cool.
Another shoutout to a frequent view on my dash, @lobotomise-me-please, whose "Boobs Girl Music" post still has 10k notes to me, I'll get back to mass reblogging it someday (if y'all wanna help, check out @boobsgirlmusic for the post, that's my Boobs Girl Music sideblog where I reblog Boobs Girl Music)
@aurora-veil, @limbuscompanyyuri and @thevanishedpeople-intothenight are up next, some of my first mutuals, y'all post good. And have been doing so consistently. For the past like, 9 months or so. That's impressive.
@meltingadoration, @holyitsquiverrflynn and @jestressofnihil, my more recent moots, there hasn't been much time to do the friendship-building and knowing each other thing, but all that means is that there's still many opportunities for that, which is cool.
Last but not least, the mutuals who I haven't quite gotten to know as well, but I'm inviting to chat anytime, @readysetgargoyle, @atlasmothss, @meeresengel, @flesh-borne, @b-kut, @aureatecenotaph, @risingdragonblade, @agender-witchery (your posts helped me immensely in figuring out gender, thanks for that) and @lich-of-lcorp. Y'all are cool, we should talk more.
And one last section for all those who I've been in touch with but aren't mutuals with, for any and all reasons (I do tend to reblog very, well, erratically), y'all deserve to be on this list, but I just didn't wanna bother you too much (I do have words of thanks to say though, if you want them, just ask).
This post is still too short to express how thankful I am for y'all existing. I don't think text could ever do it justice.
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atthebell · 3 months
Note
/discourse
Yeah I come from twitter and like, it’s so disheartening tbh. People are demanding things out of people who don’t normally talk about politics. For example, they are demanding things out of Roier, Iron Mouse and Quackity. And they say it’s “oh it’s because we are concerned for them, if they use their platform more people will know!!” Well yes, that is true but there’s a slippery slope between asking for help and harassing CC’s so you can have a morality high ground. People are already shitting on Roier because he commented on fanart instead of rting. Like dude, give him a moment he probably doesn’t know anything that’s happening. And when people try to say this, to give CC’s space to learn, your called a Zionist and get immediately blasted. “It’s a genocide! They should use their platform, their silence is deafening” <<<<legit words I’ve seen. I’ve seen people immediately drop CC’s and said that anyone who likes said CC’s is a horrible person.
yes it's ridiculous to demand every single cc talk about this or that they need to use their platforms to raise awareness about the issue-- this genocide has been the biggest news and politics conversation topic for the last several months since october. awareness has been made, there is no one on the internet rn unaware of the conflict (which, yes, it is a conflict, that does not make it not also a genocide). it is completely unavoidable, so unless you live under a literal rock there is no way you're gonna learn about it from some twitch streamer. and so roier or whoever tweeting about it does not make anyone more aware than they were before. also roier is sick, as is mouse, and quackity does not talk about politics, never has, and never will, so expecting that is ridiculous.
it's ridiculous regardless-- like doc brought up, this shit is blatant virtue signalling and i'm tired of it. it is not every single cc's responsibility to tell you how to feel about an issue or to speak out every time something terrible happens, and frankly it is not your business what they do in support of it or not in private so long as they don't act like a shithead. any of these creators could be donating a ton of money behind the scenes and just not speaking about it because that's not necessary, or they could not be and frankly i don't care either way. content creators do not exist to be twitter users' perfect idols of morality and expecting that of them is ridiculous and clearly all about you (not you specifically anon, the general you of stupid twitter users) and how you desperately need every creator you watch to have the exact morally agreed upon beliefs or else they're morally bereft and so are you.
if a cc acts shitty or says something off, sure, kindly point out where they've gone wrong or, if you don't feel like watching them anymore, don't, but don't act like their head belongs on a guillotine because they haven't talked about/aren't aware of every tragedy going on in the world right now. like you said, people are treating it like a moral high ground rather than the serious political issue that it is. and if you want a cc who's super informed about politics and is raising money for palestine and talking about it a bunch, go watch hasan ffs. maybe you'll actually learn something for once.
anyway everyone stay the fuck off twitter and stop engaging in this kind of guilt trippy bullshit.
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