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#the first time in my life I've ever truly been able to make a place my home
neverendingford · 1 year
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Alright, here we go
First and foremost I want to talk about what flying bark's animation has meant to me.
In a world where every day I see 2d animation being rejected for cheaper 3d and puppet animation at every turn, Monkie Kid's animation was the one of the first things that gave me hope for the future of 2D animation. I can't tell you how long I've been wanting a 2D animated show, growing up I wanted one so desperately, I craved good animation amongst the stiff 3D and flat storytelling, so when I got it, when Monkie Kid happened, I was so unbelievably happy. It was everything I wanted in a show, gorgeous animation, excellent voice actors, romance free and friendly to my desperate friendship-craving, romance-overstimulated brain and written in a way I enjoyed so much. I struggle to describe exactly how much I’ve adored everything this show has been up until this point. It truly is a masterpiece.
Monkie kid has kept me company during the lowest and roughest points in my life. I got to such a bad place mentally but Monkie Kid’s fast-paced, snappy, detailed, colourful bright animation brought light into my darkest mental times and not only helped me stay connected with people but kept me creating even when I wanted nothing more than to lay on the floor and never move again. I'm aware most of the flying bark team is active on the bird app and none of them are gonna see this most likely but I still just wanted to say thank you. Thank you so much for animating this show, thank you so much for giving it your all. Thank you so much for giving me something I’ve always wanted so perfectly. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you for keeping me company at my lowest, thank you for sharing your joy of animation so I could catch some of those rays of sunlight and feel a little of that joy too. Thank you for your positivity and good vibes, thank you. 
I know so many people have gotten inspiration from flying bark and I have to add myself to the infinite list. My art has improved so much thanks to their inspiration. My style has developed, I’ve had so much fun, I’ve written some of my favorite works ever based off of expressions that the characters make alone. My last amv I made because I was so grateful for the animation that we'd gotten up to that point. I wanted to showcase, to thank, to appreciate. I didn’t know it would be a goodbye. Words can't describe all that flying bark's animation and even their storyboards have done for me. When nothing could make me happy, monkie kid wormed its way into my brain and somehow kept me in one piece. I know that wouldn’t have been possible without the animation that left me at the edge of my seat, breathless and laughing over how incredible it really was every single time. Every new clip, every new episode I’d pause and rewatch again, I’d rewatch over and over, I’d take screenshots of every goofy background character, I’d screenshot every expression I could, I’d go through episodes frame-by-frame, literally one at a time for hours on end just so i could catch every detail, I’d open my eyes wider and wider to try and take in every bit I could in a way I’ve never been able to do before because there is nothing else out there like monkie kid. There was nothing as fun and as joyful as every single frame that flying bark gave us. And I am going to miss that so much.
The fact that season 4 was a sendoff is so heartbreaking to me, it's hard to describe how devastated I feel knowing something that kept hold of my hand when I was facing hard hard things in my life is suddenly gone. I don’t know how to ever express how important this show has been to me, it’s kept me going and helped me get to a place where I could breathe again. It’s connected me with some of the greatest people I know. It’s given me incredible experiences, introduced me to what animation could be and I can’t lie and say it doesn’t hurt having to say goodbye so suddenly. 
I know this isn’t the end of Monkie Kid as a show. I know season 5 is still coming. And I also know Monkie Kid has lost a huge part of what made it unique and special, a huge part of its heart and soul. Without flying bark it feels like half the show is missing and although I hope I can still support the show, no one can deny the cavern-sized hole that is left by flying bark’s absence in it. The animation team has such an incredibly positive atmosphere around them that just absolutely radiates from the things they create. I am going to miss that so desperately in monkie kid. I’m going to support every other show flying bark works on, I’m still going to love their animation wherever it goes, but I am going to miss it in monkie kid like nothing else I’ve ever missed.
I do have some other thoughts regarding the new changes in monkie kid but I wanted to keep that separate from the actual farewell, so that’ll be it’s own post and I just want to end this by saying thanks for everything Flying Bark you’ve been a real one. Thank you, thank you, thank you. You’re already being missed so hard it hurts. Keep those good vibes and keep up what you’re doing. You all really are incredible and an inspiration to artists everywhere. We love this show because of the voice actors, because of the writers, because of the music but a great deal of people loved this show because of you. You’ve inspired a community of artists, you’ve inspired me. Thank you flying bark for everything you've given us, you gave it your all and I’m gonna carry the impact you left on me for the rest of my life. 
LOVE YOU FLYING BARK. Here's to a bright future. Thanks for everything <3 
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fireflysummers · 10 months
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Good Omens S2
Okay so.
Excellent Job, Gaiman
Ouch???
I don't like to publicly talk about my personal life. My academic life is my professional life is my artist life. But my personal life? Not so much, outside of vignettes.
But for the past several months, I've been deconstructing a lot of personal baggage and trauma surrounding both family and religion, after leaving the cult I was raised in (mormonism).
It's terrifying to realize that the framework you built your entire self on is false. It's exhausting and painful to deconstruct that framework, to disentangle your identity in the way that won't destroy you.
And it's slow.
Nobody ever tells you how slow it is to heal. You can't control the rate you heal either. You just have to be patient with yourself, and give yourself an environment where that healing can occur safely and naturally.
Anyways.
Good Omens, and its weird tendency to be exactly what I need when I need it.
I first read Good Omens in high school. And honestly, I didn't quite get it, at the time. I only knew it was different from every other book I've ever read, one that didn't treat religion as stupid or trivial, but also one that called out the blatant hypocrisy and control tactics involved. It helped me safely challenge a status quo I hadn't even realized existed.
I first watched Good Omens partway into my Master's Degree. It was everything that I could've hoped for. I understood the book a lot better, but the TV adaptation captured my struggles with mental dissonance, trying to understand and accept the parts of my identity that I was taught God didn't want.
I watch S2 a year into my doctoral program. I'm out of the cult, and it's exhilarating and painful and scary and fun, but I can still feel the scars its hooks left when they were torn out.
I feel like S2 Aziraphale is in about the same place. He's exploring his freedom, but also trying to reorient himself. He's trying to let himself be. He's healing, but his boundaries got overridden due to circumstances out of his control (naked Gabriel). He's been pulled back into the gravity of the abusive system he tried to escape, given a carrot on a stick, and isn't yet healed or strong enough to resist.
On top of that, Aziraphale is still holding onto the hope that the problem was bad individuals, not a corrupted system. He thinks if the leadership is different, things can change. He thinks if he had more authority in the system, he could make things change. And... that's not how it works.
And Crowley. Dear Crowley.
He wants Aziraphale to be farther along in his healing than he is. Honestly, Aziraphale wants it too. But again, you cannot force this kind of healing, even when it results in a loved one making some truly stupid decisions.
Crowley sees the system for what it is. He's already deconstructed that part. But he hasn't really started addressing his own trauma. He's hinged his entire existence on Aziraphale, on being what Aziraphale needs, that he hasn't allowed himself to heal either. And Aziraphale, who is vulnerable and healing, is not able to provide the support that Crowley would need to recover safely.
Which is why them separating is probably the best thing for both of them.
It won't be permanent.
But they don't communicate, and their relationship while delightful and beautiful risks unhealthy codependency that prevents either from really growing or healing.
Anyways, what I really hope to see next season is Aziraphale's realization that the system never had his back. That the system is what's wrong, and that he can't win by playing at respectability politics or gaining a higher status within it.
I want Aziraphale to get angry.
He deserves it. He's tried so hard. He thinks he's lost Crowley over it.
I want him to feel the gut-wrenching despair of realizing how conditional and fleeting the system's version of love is, and I want it to turn into a rage.
But not a destructive rage--the sort of anger that Pratchett ascribes to himself and many of his works. The sort of anger that fueled Discworld and Good Omens. The sort that can be finessed into a weapon and a shield, that can be used to protect the people who truly love you.
For millennia we see Crowley fighting for Aziraphale.
For Season 3, I want to see Aziraphale fighting for his demon.
For him to apologize, without the expectation that Crowley will come back, but because he was wrong and Crowley needs to know it. To not expect forgiveness, not even think he deserves it.
And then for Crowley--who is trying to hide his heart eyes at seeing his avenging angel coming to save him for once, who he can tell immediately has changed, and is finally going Crowley's speed)--for Crowley to give that forgiveness, without strings attached.
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fatuismooches · 2 years
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Hello
I just saw your post with the fragile SO and honestly I loved it sooo much ❤️
Now I wanted to request kinda of a follow up. Like what if before you died you wrote them a letter, saying how much you love them and how they made your last days on earth so memorable and stuff like that. And they found it, like maybe a month or so after your death. How would they all react? (I'm specially curious of Capitano because you said you thought he would think that he killed you 😭)
I really love your writing and I plan to make more request in the future 👋
-🦎
♡𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐥𝐞/𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐃𝐢𝐞𝐝 ♡
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synopsis: The Harbingers are made of steel, unflinching in any possible situation. But it seems that even such strong beings falter in the face of their lover's death, especially after they find a letter you left behind. Can be read as a part 2 to this.
includes: all harbingers (platonic pulcinella) w/ gn! reader
notes: Hop on the angst train, everyone. This is the first completely angsty thing I've written, and probably one of my favorites + longest pieces. I hope you enjoy this sadness, anon...!
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Pierro:
Pierro carried on. He went about his day, filing paperwork, assigning duties to new recruits. What could he do? There was no time to mourn. The entire Fatui depended on his guidance and orders. He couldn’t just drop everything to fully devote himself to grieving you. But everyone knew - in any spare moment he had, he was thinking about you. Thinking about how he used to be able to go home to you waiting for him. Thinking about the walks he took with you that were heartwarming despite the body-chilling temperature. Thinking about when you were alive.
It was another day when one of your maids came to him with a piece of paper. Of course, she was terrified at being in the presence of the Harbinger, but she presented a folded piece of paper to him, stating that she had found it while cleaning your room. Pierro hadn’t been in there for a while. He was consciously trying his best to avoid it, choosing to pick up work instead. He nodded and the maid quickly scurried out of the room. It was most likely a final memento from you. He should honor that, he thought as he took off his mask.
Dear Pierro,
Hello there, my love. I hope your day wasn’t too tiring. I know how you’re always swamped with your Fatui business and such. You’re the head Harbinger, you know! You should definitely abuse your power to get some more days off. You didn’t hear that from me though, not like I wanna keep you to myself or anything. Totally not because I’m dying to spend some more time with you before I quite literally die. 
You know, sometimes I wish I was a Fatui soldier just so that I could admire you from afar some more. Those recruits are damn lucky, getting to see you more than I do. I don’t mean to complain though. I’m still tremendously grateful for everything you’ve done for me. I’ve had the pleasure of enjoying the best moments of my life with you. Yeah, even when I made jokes you still had that stoic look on your face but it was still hilarious. I loved when you would wrap me in your coat and tell me stories about Khaenri’ah. Even when you weren’t here, I loved when these random recruits would be scurrying to my room every so often to deliver your handwritten notes. 
Truly, there’s no life I’d rather live than this one… minus the illness part though. I am sorry to make you shoulder another death, my dear, but I love you greatly. I will always be with you.
Quietly, Pierro put the paper down and rubbed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. Ever since the fall of his nation, his heart had long gone numb. He had tried to ignore the prickling of his heart after your death, but your letter was really rubbing it on. When was the last time mere words could stir up such emotion in him? He didn’t know. But he promised you, this would not be your final resting place. Pierro knew, after fulfilling the Tsaritsa’s promise, he would see you again.
Capitano:
Capitano wasn’t very photogenic. After all, all you saw was a helmet shrouding his face in darkness along with his pitch-black armor and clothes. But you had insisted on taking a variety of pictures with him, claiming that it kept you happy. It wasn’t until later on when he stumbled across a scrapbook, with pages covered in photos of the two of you together, that he understood why. Since then, he let you do as you please. The doctors said it was good for you to keep occupied by doing things you liked. And well, it was rather cute, with all the decorations and fancy tape you added. Capitano often found himself looking at it to see what you added when you weren’t around.
But ever since your death, he hadn’t looked at it since. If he did, he didn’t think he’d be able to control the emotions boiling up inside of him. If he looked at your smiling face again, the pain and regret would be too much to bear. But as the days passed by and he continued to think about you, he couldn’t help but flip open the scrapbook, revisiting the memories he made with you so long ago. He flipped until he found a envelope in the middle, causing him to perk up. It had been sealed perfectly, even stamped with one of his seals. Now, Capitano didn’t want to invade your privacy, but what was inside called to him too much, and he very carefully unsealed it with a knife. Inside was a piece of parchment, similar to the ones he used to send you letters.
My knight,
I’m writing this after you just left for an expedition. You’ve just fed me breakfast (a/d fa//ed, but it’s f/ne b/ca/se it w/s c/te.) (The ending part of the sentence has been erased, but it’s still a bit readable.) We took an early bath together, and you helped me choose a nice outfit for today. You dutifully assisted me with my medicine and tucked me back into bed for some rest. Lastly, you’ve just tenderly kissed me with all the love in the world, my favorite part of course.
It’s too bad that I won’t be able to receive any more of your kisses soon. I think the sickness is really catching up to me, haha. (There are some doodles of the two of you randomly drawn in the middle of the paper, with lots of hearts and stars and rainbows. Maybe you stopped because you didn’t know how to continue.) To be honest, I’ve asked the doctors not to tell you, and somehow, they’ve listened to me. I just don’t want you to worry about me. Somehow, for someone as menacingly looking as you, you worry a lot more than I thought (no offense, though.)
I don’t want you to blame yourself for anything, my love. You genuinely made my life so, so much better. Even towards the end, I can only feel happiness that I was able to share some of my life with someone so incredible. You aren’t a monster. You’re the man I love dearly, the one who many people look up to all the time. You did everything and more, which really warms my heart.
I’m saying this because I know how you are and I need to knock some sense into you before you start getting any crazy ideas. Please don’t beat yourself up. If I could choose my destiny, I’d rather choose to be sick and be with you rather than being healthy. I’d choose you again and again, over and over, my dear. I love you, truly.
Carefully folding the letter, he tucked it into the envelope again and resealed it. He snugly placed it back into the scrapbook and closed it, placing it back into the drawer where he usually kept it. Capitano was used to the grief and destruction that war brought. But he wasn’t used to it when love brought these feelings upon him. His heart still hurt - terribly so - but… your letter seems to have brought him some peace. You would forever be in his heart.
Columbina:
It had been a while since your death. By now, everyone had become accustomed to hearing her songs every day. It was a constant reminder of your passing. Oftentimes,  Columbina had begun to stay in your room longer than her own. You were gone, but something about your space soothed her soul a bit from all the grief she was going through. And she also liked to go through your stuff and remember different things about you.
There was a box that contained a compilation of the many songs and poems she gifted you, along with some that you created yourself with her help. Sometimes, she liked to go through the box and think about you, but she never had the time to inspect every piece. Until now, when she noticed that there was an unfamiliar piece of paper that she didn’t recognize. Columbina picked it up and began to read.
My lovely melody,
Lately, I’ve begun to sing more. I think you’ve inspired me. I hope you don’t mind me stealing that one song you like to hum the most. The only problem is that I don’t have enough stamina to sing for that long, and I think my voice is kind of off-key. But I promise I’m working on it! I’m not going to tell you yet because I want to surprise you with something nice, as a thank you for taking care of me for so long.
Actually, there’s another problem, and it’s that… (it seems that you wrote a lot of words here and then scratched them out; perhaps you were unsure how to word it) Well, I guess I don’t really know if I’ll live long enough to perform for you. It’s been kind of tough lately. But I’m going to persevere for you. Your poems have been helping a lot. We should make a book of them one day. And um, in the case that I don’t make it, I would like you to know how happy you made me.
I always got so giddy when I heard you humming down the hallway. Nothing felt better than when you would croon to me and massage my scalp and play with my hair. You are so comforting and sweet, and just - lots of things that would be too much to write. I always feel eternally fortunate that I was able to have a lover as amazing as you. You really did change my life. I love you very much, Columbina. Please don’t forget me.
Columbina’s usual smile had turned into a downward curve. Oh, how she wished she could hear you sing. Your usual voice and laugh had already been angelic to her, she knew your songs would be beautiful too. But you were no longer here. She would have really loved to hear your song. You would have been the best duet partner. But perhaps, you could hear her songs from the other world as she laid on your coffin once again.
Dottore:
Dottore hadn’t entered your room since your death. He was far too busy with his research and experimentation with resurrection. Mourn you? No, no, you weren’t going to be dead for long, after he finds the answer. You would be back in his arms soon enough. Both of you would be fine. That was, until no matter how hard he researched, he always seemed to hit a dead end. It was frustrating. He couldn’t believe it, but he was at the point where he willingly needed a couple of minutes to rest. Dottore headed to his room, but as he placed his hand on the doorknob, something stopped him and he looked over to the room next to his, yours. He silently walked over and opened your room, having not been in it for a while. The only reason you didn’t share a room was that his was very… bland, boring, not very comfortable, and not spacious enough for the medical equipment.
It was the same as he had left it, not bothering to change anything. You liked to decorate it, and he let you. Framed photos of the two of you were on the dresser, lights hung up around the room. It seemed to make you happy. But there was something he had not noticed before - a slip of paper sticking out from under the pillow. Dottore walked over and took off his mask - something he unconsciously tended to do when it was just the two of you - and opened the folded paper.
To Zandik,
I remember when you first took interest in me, looking at me up and down with your mask on, a wide smirk on your face. I knew my parents said they hired someone intelligent to cure me, but I sure didn’t expect it to be the second Harbinger. I think you already know this, but when I saw you, I was kinda scared for my life. And I was for a while, especially when you made me drink the most hellish concoctions and injected strange things into me. But long story short, I still fell in love with you somehow. Even though you were probably trying so hard just because you wanted to solve the mystery of my illness, I couldn’t help but think you were quite handsome when you focused on something so intensely. Your pointy teeth were the cutest. (The previous sentence has been erased but Dottore could still make it out. You were an idiot, he thinks.)
I don’t mean to insult your intelligence or skill… but I don’t think I’m going to make it, Dottore. I know you’ve been trying really, really hard (I was there the whole time, after all) to help cure me, but I think you know better than me about my condition. So yeah. I guess this is my goodbye… my parting letter.
I know you don’t care about anyone or anything really, but I hope you accept it when I say I genuinely enjoyed our time together. Yea, you were hella terrifying and a lot of scary stories drifted about you, but there was a lot of maniacal laughter and you rambling on about things I had no clue about, but I would always happily listen to you, Zandik. I would write more, but I don’t think you’re one for sappy words and stuff like that. So I’ll leave end it here. I love you very much.
His mouth was a straight thin line at the end of your letter. Dottore put his mask back on and tucked your letter into his coat. For once, he couldn’t blame someone for insulting his intelligence. He did fail, after all. But Dottore was no stranger to failure. Experimentation was a series of trials and errors, failures and successes. He swore to himself that you would not be a failure. Perhaps his journey to Sumeru, the land of wisdom, would grant him some more insight for your resurrection.
Pulcinella:
It was just after your funeral. Surprisingly, all the Harbingers had gathered too. It seemed like they had grown somewhat fond of you after Pulcinella introduced you to them, at least enough to attend your funeral. Pulcinella was grateful. He had spoken a few words in memory of you. He couldn’t keep everyone for long. They had other matters to attend to. But in his heart, he had a lot of dear words for you. 
Pulcinella sat down at his desk, deciding to do some paperwork to distract his mind. He pulled out the drawer to retrieve some items but he noticed a piece of paper stuffed to the back of it. He certainly had not put that there. He reached for it and opened it to read the contents.
Hey Papanella,
Do you like that nickname I came up with? I haven’t said it to you yet because I’m not sure how you’ll react. But I think it’s pretty cute. I haven’t said this out loud yet either but… um, I guess you’re like my dad to me. My own parents never cared much for me after my illness proved to be too much work, but you always treated me so kindly. So yeah. Thanks for being a father figure to me. Archons, this is kind of embarrassing.
I’m admitting this because I don’t know how much longer I have. I know you’re always encouraging me to keep living on, and I really do appreciate it. I’m sincerely trying my best, but I think my sickness has been getting worse. Ah, and thanks for introducing me to the Harbingers. They’re pretty scary but they’re kind of cool when you get to know them. Some of them are cute too. Please don’t tell them I said that. But really, for the longest time, I thought my life would amount to nothing, and that no one would remember me. But you proved me wrong. I truly enjoyed spending the last of my days doing old people stuff with you (just kidding of course!)
I’m going to ask you to tell me lots of more stories when I see you again. They really make my day. I like the ones about you in your youth the best. They’re the funniest. Anyway, I love you, gramps. Don’t miss me too much.
Pulcinella was old. He had seen things be built and broken down, people come and go. But he always hated it the most when he had to see youngsters go before he did. Especially innocent ones who had done nothing wrong. He just prayed, that whichever world you were in now, treated you better than this one did.
Scaramouche:
Ever since your death, the soldiers had been on the receiving end of Scaramouche’s insults even more. No longer were you here to hastily save them from his berating, much to their dismay.  They actually appreciated you for stopping Scaramouche from giving them another verbal (and sometimes even physical) beating. But now if he wasn’t yelling at someone, he was deathly silent, which was why even scarier than his words. Everyone knew they were forbidden from speaking about you in his presence.
When Scaramouche had to visit Inazuma for whatever reason, he always found himself walking towards your house. Once he had came across the Tenryou Commission moving your items out of your house, due to no one living there anymore and the want for someone else to buy it. Needless to say, he swiftly dealt with them and sent them on their way with rage. They had tried a few more times and he did not hold back, until later they stopped coming, apparently after the head shrine maiden gave an order on the behalf of the Shogun to leave the residence alone. Hmph.
He doesn’t know why he keeps coming here, the only thing that’s different is the new collection of dust on the dresser. But the want to see you again keeps calling him, only to leave Scaramouche sorely disappointed. He thinks he knows every nook and cranny of your house, that is until he walks on a floorboard that caves in and nearly makes him fall. He’s about to lose his temper until he sees a piece of paper hidden under the floor. The words die in his throat as he picks it up to inspect.
To my beloved Kunikuzushi,
As I write this, you’re probably yelling at some unfortunate Fatui soul and they’re all trembling in their boots. Haha, I wish I was there to see that. You should be nicer, you know. But it is kinda funny to see you mad. I hope you come back soon… it’s getting too quiet around here without your quips and remarks.
But I know as you read this, I’m no longer alive. Kuni, I… (There are wrinkled spots around this area, presumably from your tears.)
I love you, and I don’t want rage and hatred to consume you again. I’m sorry to make your heart bear such pain again. It may be fruitless to say this, but please don’t blame yourself… it was out of our control. Please know I enjoyed every moment with you, whether you were cursing at some guy who bumped into me, even when you teased me relentlessly, or silently crying in my arms about your fate. But my favorite part was your soft smiles which grew more frequent. You are loved very much by me too. I want to see you smile more, many more times before I- (The rest of the sentence was scribbled over with a pen, making it unreadable.)
I wish I didn’t have to depart so soon… I wish I was born someone else, someone more strong and healthier… if I was, would our story be different, Kuni? Perhaps we’ll meet again one day… hopefully, sooner rather than later, and maybe I won’t be the same as I am now, but…
Will you wait for me, Kunikuzushi?
Scaramouche hated when he cried. He felt weak, stupid, and disgusting, especially when you were there. And somehow, he couldn’t help but feel worse than that when he finished reading your letter. He was never favored by the Gods, having been betrayed by one already. It seemed as though he was always fated to be betrayed by people he cared about. But he knew deep down that you didn’t betray him, he did instead by not being able to protect and save you. In an effort to bury his despair, anger, and grief, he would wipe himself clean of foolish human emotions, ready to ascend to godhood with his creator’s Gnosis…
Arlecchino:
Arlecchino’s days had been exactly the same ever since your death. They were the same as before she had met you too. Bland. Boring. Dull. It was after your passing that she truly realized how much your presence had added some thrill and color into her life. Now they were empty. But she was used to that. She had felt that way for a long time.
Arlecchino didn’t do much in her room besides sleep. Her room wasn’t anything special, just the standard and rich master bedroom. That was, until you took it upon yourself to decorate it. She hadn’t bothered to change it despite the style being very much different from hers. Today she had come in briefly to retrieve some documents under her bed. But, there was a random piece of paper there, collected dust on top of it, most likely from being placed there a long time ago. Arlecchino opened the folded paper and was greeted with your handwriting.
To my sunshine,
I bet you’re wondering why the hell I chose “sunshine” of all names. Even I can admit that you are nothing like sunshine. But I wanted to spice things up a bit, and to be honest, you bring a lot of sunshine into my heart and dreary little life, despite your stone-cold face. So yeah! I don’t think I can call you that to your face though. It’d be too scary.
I didn’t tell you, but I’ve had some people ask me why I chose to stay with you despite my health being what it is. My answer is always very easy - I love you, Arlecchino. Plain and simple. They don’t know how you are with me (which I’m kinda glad for… I want to keep this side of you to myself; yes, I know I’m greedy.) The way your lips quirk up for a split second then always turn downwards because you don’t want anyone to see. The way your eyes soften for a bit when I tell a corny joke. Or when I do anything actually. Your facial expressions are pretty cute.
Ahem, moving on from that, I guess you can say that I’m not too scared to say these things because I might be leaving you soon. Not of my free will, of course. Rather, it seems like the time my illness is allowing me to live is limited. Hopefully, you don’t notice anything off about me. I don’t think I could explain all of this in person… 
But I am really thankful to you for sticking by my side for so long. Even though you don’t tell me, I know sometimes you lament about your lack of ability to be verbally and affectionately comforting. But I hope you know that I don’t really care about that. You are more than enough for me. You’ve done a lot more than you think. I’m forever appreciative, my dear.
Arlecchino was left speechless, the usual bite in her throat died down. As someone who had few kind words to say to others, having such sweetness directed at her was not something she was used to. But of course, a part of her wasn’t surprised, because the only person who’d utter such things was you. It pained her, and even the children who cried after your death, greatly. But whenever she needed a reminder of you, she would uncharacteristically gently trace her fingertips over the words of your letter.
La Signora:
Everyone knew to stay out of La Signora’s way after your death. She was cruel before, but your passing seemed to reignite all the flames of anguish and hatred she harbored deep inside her broken heart. Once again, her walls had been put up to be unbreakable.
Rosalyne had gifted you a lot of makeup and accessories. She liked to experiment on you and liked it when you tried it yourself too. You had kept everything in a nice big box so nothing would get lost. One day she felt drawn to it again. She knew she was missing you dearly again, and although opening it would just cause her heartache, she couldn’t help but pry it open to see how you kept it. But on top was a hastily folded letter, stained a bit by the surrounding makeup, tucked into a small compartment. She flipped it open and began to scan the contents.
My dearest Rosalyne,
Hello there, pretty lady. You know, that’s the first thing I thought when I saw you. Tall pretty lady. Did you know that? Now you do. Anyway, I was wondering - how many of your flame moths can you create at a time?? Can you make them form a heart or something? 
Haha, I’m sorry for beating around the bush. The truth is I don’t know how much longer I have left. No matter how much warmth your moths provide me, for some reason, I always feel the chill of death creeping up my spine…
I don’t mean to be your second heartbreak. I’m really sorry… you deserve so much better than that. But for what it’s worth, you made my life a lot better than it was before. I hadn’t had much confidence in myself because of my illness for a long time. But you, Rosalyne… you made me feel like an actual person, as strange as that sounds. I feel like, when I’m with you, you make me feel so loved and special. I’m far from it but I actually feel like royalty. And royalty is really a life worth living. I don’t even know how you did it, but thank you. My life is so, so much happier thanks to you.
Hopefully, I make it a lot longer after I’m writing this letter. Maybe the Gods could finally take pity on me and give me some kind of blessing so I can stay with you longer. But if anything happens, I really, truly love you, Rosalyne. (The end of the letter has an origami moth colored in and taped to it.)
Signora’s hand trembled as she finished your letter. Her heart had returned to being ice, but it felt like her whole body was being swallowed up in red-hot grief and anger. Signora would dedicate herself solely to the Tsaritsa’s noble dream. It was the only thing she could do now, with nothing else to do and no one left for her freezing heart to love. No one could ever hope to understand the grief and pain she’s been through. Perhaps, that was why when she stood in front of the Raiden Shogun’s sword, she did not feel much regret.
Pantalone:
Whenever Pantalone went out, he often found himself looking through the windows of many stores to view their products. It was almost an instinct to pull out a large sum of Mora to buy anything he thought you’d like. And he still did this, only that he stopped halfway every time when he remembered that you were no longer with him. And his heart felt painfully heavy once again, like how heavy his smile felt with the pressure to keep it up.
The silence of his office had become a norm once again, your joyful presence no longer around to brighten it up. Pantalone opted to drown himself in paperwork to ignore it. Actually, he never realized how much the tick of the grandfather clock bothered him until now. Usually, your voice was loud enough to hide it. He sighed and reached for the bottom drawer to get some new pens to sign the documents. But his eyes widened as he saw a paper clearly laid out there, addressed to him at the top. His heart beat quickened as he carefully picked it up and realized it was from you. It seemed like you had experimented with some fancy calligraphy pens he had gotten you a while ago. And you had also stolen every stamp you had from him and stamped all over the paper.
Darling,
Hello, my love. Sorry for all the random stamps. I wanted to see what they looked like. Why does the Fatui need so many different-shaped stamps? You should make one of us, actually. And do you see I’ve been practicing my cursive script? (Indeed, on the back on the paper, your name has been signed in different styles.) I’ve been trying to do my signature all fancy like you. Hopefully, I’m improving.
I am thinking to make you read me a bedtime story tonight. I found a new one that seemed pretty cute. It’s a commoner falling in love with a nobleman… a tale of forbidden romance. It seems to go fine, until the commoner s/cc/mbs to (It seems that you scratched off the rest of the sentence.) Actually, I won’t spoil the ending for you. But by the time you read this letter, we may have finished it already. I’m just going to abuse that pretty voice of yours as much as I can (kidding of course… but no joke. Have you tried some kind of service where you just read things to people? I think you’d make a lot of money from that. I sure would give all my life savings to you.)
I guess since I’m writing this, I should say another thing I’m thinking about. I’m not sure how much longer I can hang on. I’m trying my best because I don’t want to let you down. I know you’ve been trying your best, with all these fancy doctors and equipment, but um… yeah. But I should also say that I’m not regretful having spent my time with you. You made the last days of my life so relaxing, so stress-free, so… nice. I’m glad I don’t need to worry about anything with you. Let’s move on from this, actually.
I’m thinking of a lot of things, actually. I wonder what you made the chef prepare for us tonight. Mhm… I’m getting hungry. Will you feed me dessert again too? Hah, I’m going to miss thinking about such mundane things. Hmm, I think I can hear your voice down the hall, so I’ll wrap this up. I love you.
Pantalone gazed at your words forlornly, his mouth formed into a downwards line. He had never thought the loss of something besides Mora could squeeze his heart so painfully, but here you were, making his eyes sting once again. Blinking back any tears, he made sure to store your letter in a safe place. He made a note to visit your grave today. He’d bring your favorite snack too, and read you a story perhaps.
Sandrone:
It was almost ironic - the puppet master had become a puppet herself. She didn’t speak much to others anymore, choosing to lock herself up in her lab. A part of her debated making some kind of robot or doll replica of you. But it would never be the same. She wouldn’t feel your warmth, or your natural, free laugh. Nothing would be similar.
Sandrone had begun inspections on all of her created robots. It was a grueling process she had gotten used to, but she missed the chirping of your voice as she did so. She worked in silence, opening the compartment of one of them when she was caught off guard by a formerly white paper, caked in dust, inside. The only person who had access to her Automatons was you. So could it possibly be…?
My forever,
I’m actually writing this in the same room as you. You're too preoccupied with your robot building and engineering and all that stuff, so you don’t notice me rushing to write all of this. I’ll make this quick. Actually, it’s hard to concentrate when you look so pretty and intelligent. Ahh, I’m so lucky to have you with me.
I think you’re repairing one of your robots so it can lift us up and take us on a walk. I’m excited. Those are always so much fun. I know you aren’t a sappy person. But I want to make my feelings clear, since I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to watch you unscrew some bolts and hammer down the nails. I don’t need to say it outright, do I? We both know I’ve been getting worse. Neither of us wants to say it out loud, but it’s reality.
Before I go, let me make it clear, since I know you like being blunt. You are my everything. Seeing your cute little robots send me these cute little messages really made my day. I think you told me a long time ago that you didn’t care much about human emotions. I think that’s changed now. I love waking up to see that calm and content expression on your face and watching it become a bit more softer when you see me. You’re more human than you think, you know. Some people think that being cooped up in a lab with a Harbinger is not an ideal way to live. But I beg to differ. I would choose no other way to live as long as I’m with you, Sandrone.
I think you’re finished with your tinkering. I’m going to have one of the robots hide this paper in them. I think some of them like me better than you >:) I wonder how long it’ll be until you find it. Hopefully, you don’t find it too quickly because it’ll be awkward to explain this to you. Either way… I love you dearly, Sandrone.
Sandrone gently brushed off the dust on your letter. She wished she found it sooner. She didn’t know whether it was good or bad her heart was finally feeling some emotion again, but she was grateful to have some final parting words from you. Sandrone had a bubble of inspiration float up in her. She had a good idea of what she was going to build next.
Childe:
Childe had found it after he was cleaning out your apartment in Liyue. He wanted to bring all of your stuff to his home in Snezhnaya. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t throw any of your items away, even the random useless trinkets. Childe’s chest felt hollow as he opened the door to your residence. He expected to see your face brighten and eagerly pull yourself out of bed to hug him. He’d easily lift you off the floor and spin you around, drinking in your gleeful giggles as he pressed his lips to yours. But now it was just the creak of the floorboards as he walked in.
Childe had a memory connected to every piece of clothing that you had. That one he gifted to you for your birthday. Another he remembered twirling you around in on a picnic. One of his sweaters that he doesn't remember you stealing from him, mingled with your scent and his. Archons, his chest hurt so badly, but there was nothing he could do as he neatly placed your items in boxes, emptiness consuming him. He was finishing up the packing when a piece of paper folded in half fell out of one of your pants’ pockets. Childe picked it up and his eyes widened when he recognized your handwriting and his real name. Sitting down on your bed, he began to read.
To my one and only Ajax,
My greatest wish is that you’ll never find and read this letter because it means that we’re living our best lives. We’re happy, content, still deeply in love with each other… living in bliss. 
But if you’re reading this, then we probably didn’t go and do all of the cool and exciting things you wanted us to. I didn’t move to Sneznhnaya and I didn’t meet the rest of your family. We didn’t go travel to all the nations like you wanted to…
Heh, that’s too bad. I was really looking forward to seeing the same sights you saw on your travels. The pretty bloom of Inazuma’s sakura trees, the beautiful snow-covered streets of Snezhnaya. Remember that time you asked me if I wanted to conquer the world with you? Of course, since I can’t ever say no to you, I accepted your proposition. But in my head, I couldn’t help but think that you should probably choose someone who can match your ability and someone who is act/a/ly g/i/g to b/ ali/e. (The previous words have been haphazardly erased, making it hard to make out.)
You know I… (The ink here has bled through the paper, most likely due to you stopping there for a good while.) I don’t even know what to say, I’m just sorry. I don’t wanna leave you, I wanna be by your side forever, wanna be attacked by your cuddles every day. But the only thing I can do now is to make sure you understand that I’m truly grateful for you. No one else has ever cared about me as much as you did. You never stopped believing in me and always smiled when I needed you. You made my feeble life worth living.
Please don’t be sad. Teucer and the rest of your siblings need you. I love you so very much…
He didn’t realize how hard he was digging his fingernails into his skin until he started bleeding through the paper. Childe had been through endless battles, and fought countless enemies, but no wound had ever burned as badly as his heart did right now. Even in the Abyss, he did not feel as bottomless of despair as he felt right now. He wanted to hold you again too, Childe thought. He wanted to kiss you all over and show you how much he loved you. But you were gone, and the letter just solidified it more. He laid down on your bed, hand covering his forehead as he stared blankly at your ceiling. Biting down on his lip hard, he tried to prevent tears from flowing again. He would just go back to being the Tsarista’s weapon again, drowning himself in battle and blood just to feel something after your death.
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cbrownjc · 19 days
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So it really seems like Armand is Alice - or Daniel's lost memories of Armand have been conflated with his memories of Alice, or something. I'd be really interested to know your thoughts on how much Louis knows? We see malicious triumph from him but (I think) not really an awareness that this specific memory has heavy shades of Armand in it, more like he was happy to weaponise any terrible memory of Daniel's that came to hand.
But how could Louis not know? If Armand and Daniel were together in the past I bet Louis knew about it and probably still does?
(Also your Tumblr is amazing and fascinating and ILU)
Hello! I'm glad you like my Tumblr and thank you for the amazingly kind words! *hugs* 💕
So, Armand & Daniel and Louis. Now, my gut feeling at the moment is that Louis knows a lot about what happened between Armand and Daniel. But possibly not everything.
Or, more directly, I do think it's possible that Louis doesn't fully know how serious it really got between Armand and Daniel; that Armand and Daniel actually truly, deeply, and sincerely fell in love with each other. I may be wrong about that (as I've only had a chance to watch the episode once so far), but there are some little things that are making me think that for now.
The main reason is that we now have an answer for why Louis has called Daniel "our boy" before. (Which he hasn't done this season yet, but I'm sure it's coming.) IMO the reason was indirectly revealed in the scene when Real Rashid brought out the pictures . . . and what Louis and Armand both said about who some of the pictures were of: which is that they were pictures of young human men that were kept with Louis and Armand -- in their company -- for a period of time.
These two -- Louis and Armand -- would basically add a third into their relationship at one time or another. And that they did so a LOT more than once. And that it was something that was always initiated by Louis -- probably because it was something that was Louis' idea to do in the first place, back when they first did so with whomever the first young man they pulled in was.
We don't know how long these young men were kept with them, but I don't think it's wrong to guess that some were kept for rather long periods. It was Louis who would draw these young men into them . . . then some would be drained dry at some point if they weren't just let go.
And Daniel was basically set to be the next in the long line of young men that Louis and Armand would do this with. That is what was initially happening that night at Polynesian Mary's. With Louis, once again, being the one to draw the young man -- in this case, Daniel -- in.
But what made everything different this time -- and what made Daniel different from all the young men that had come before him wrt this -- was that first interview. And I think Assad hinted in an interview during the press tour as to why Armand steps in and saves Daniel's life when Louis attacks Daniel. And that reason is that during that interview, Daniel is able to understand and connect with Louis in a way that Armand hasn't been able to during all their years together. And so becomes fascinated by Daniel because of that.
And I don't think I'm guessing that Armand never became fascinated in such a way with any of the other young men that Louis lured into a triad with them. (Or, if Armand ever did, it was a very fleeting thing).
So, I think in this instance, the third that was lured in by Louis actually ended up fully capturing Armand's attention and, eventually, his heart. And while, as with all the other young men they had done this with before, Daniel was very much "our boy" for both him and Armand in Louis' eyes . . . there were deeper emotions that were growing between Armand and Daniel during that time that Louis just didn't really see -- or that maybe Armand kept Louis from seeing.
Because remember, Armand is much more skilled at the Mind Gift than Louis is. And Louis, very possibly, might have still been under the veil that -- in the books -- his mind gets clouded over by Armand after they first leave Paris.
So there are many reasons Louis may not have fully noticed everything that was happening between Armand and Daniel during however long Daniel was with them. (And, IMO, it is very much looking like it was at least 12 years, which was the length of the whole Devil's Minion saga -- before Daniel was finally turned -- in the book QotD).
Louis knows some things I feel sure of. Like, Louis knows Armand and Daniel had sex because . . . yeah. Armand and Louis weren't just pulling in young human men to be a third with them to play cards or something. 😏 But I'm not sure that Louis knows about the full emotional depth (and heartbreak) of everything that went down between Armand and Daniel.
So yeah, Louis knows about Armand & Daniel -- because he was the one to draw Daniel in to be a third with him and Armand in the first place. But I don't think Louis knows just how deeply and emotionally serious it really got between them. And maybe it's mostly because Armand just kept that part of it from Louis.
As to the Alice = Armand thing and if Louis knows that. . . again I'm not sure. It is one reason I kind of still sort of lean toward the idea that Alice is a real person, but many things about her have been merged with Armand in Daniel's mind. And Louis doesn't actually know which is which.
However . . . Louis could very well know how serious it got between Armand and Daniel, and that Alice isn't real and just really is Armand; and Louis just did what he did -- emotionally going in on Daniel like that -- because Louis really just wanted to hurt Daniel in that way because Daniel had hurt him in the same way just by asking about Lestat like that. Louis does have a very sadistic streak in him, I think that has been very well-established. And it would just be the simplest answer too for it all as well.
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bradshawssugarbaby · 2 months
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Do I? - Beau Simpson x Reader
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a/n: I've been wanting to write for Beau for a while (I love Jon Hamm and this is a hill I am willing to die on), so here's my first one for him. Inspired loosely by Do I? by Luke Bryan.
pairing: Beau Simpson x reader
warnings/content: angst to fluff, mentions of divorce if you squint, Beau being kinda soft, allusions to smut, allusions to child ab*se, Beau doesn't always know how to show his emotions but damn it he tries his best.
word count: 1.9k
taglist: @nouis-bum, @jessicab1991, @b-bradshaw, @ahopelessromanticwritersworld
Do I turn you on at all when I kiss you, baby? Does the sight of me wanting you drive you crazy? Do I have your love? Am I still enough? Tell me don't I? Or tell me, do I, baby Give you everything that you ever wanted? Would you rather just turn away and leave me lonely? Do I just need to give up and get on with my life? Tell me, baby do I get one more try?
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Beau grumbled as he walked through the door, his keys dropping into the catch-all dish on the table with a clatter. His brows knit together as he looked around the room, searching for any sign of you being home. His tired blue-green eyes blinked as he raked a hand over his face, trying to wake himself up as he searched the house for you. Calling your name to no response, he furrowed his brow as he pulled his phone from his pocket. He frowned as he saw there were zero missed calls and zero missed messages from you, a sign that you were truly mad at him this time. 
He let out an exhausted sigh as he slumped into the armchair in the living room, picking up a discarded baseball your son had forgotten to put away and rolling it in his hands, over his fingers and back as his mind ran over the events that unfolded that morning.
He hadn’t meant to be cold towards you or Dylan. He’d been stressed and overworked, struggling with an upcoming mission that he had to plan out, trying to ensure the right team was put together for the job. Combing through dozens of personnel files until his eyes were sore, staying up all hours of the night trying to create an action plan, briefing notes - he rarely left base anymore. He knew you’d felt neglected, and God, he hated making you feel that way. He hated that you felt unwanted, unloved, and yet, you did everything you could to still make life easier for him. He knew he didn’t deserve that. In fact, he knew he didn’t deserve you–your patience, your understanding, your love and affection. He didn’t deserve to be Dylan’s father either, not that he’d been a particularly good one anyway. 
Dylan had a baseball tournament coming up, and you’d asked Beau if he’d be able to make it. Dylan’s team had never been invited to play before, but they’d managed to make it to a statewide tournament, teams from all over California would be there with their children, ages 8-10. The Coronado Crowns were having a record season, and Dylan had begun to emerge as their star pitcher. When you’d asked him about it, he’d had a dozen other things on his mind - he couldn’t even remember you mentioning it in the first place, if he was honest. He figured he’d hummed along in response, not hearing what you’d said, but not wanting to give off the impression he wasn’t listening. 
Unaware of what he’d agreed to, Beau bounded down the stairs this morning, his footsteps heavy as he headed to the kitchen. He was running late, and barely had time to have coffee with you, but he was determined to at least kiss you good morning before heading out the door. You’d frowned at him when you saw him in uniform, and immediately, his mind began to race, running through a list of scenarios that could have upset you. He wasn’t the most romantic husband - he knew that, but he was sure he’d never forgotten an anniversary or a birthday. It wasn’t until Dylan came down in his baseball uniform, his duffel bag packed for the four-day tournament slung over his shoulder. His face fell as he looked at Beau, an instant wave of guilt washing over Beau’s face.
“I’m sorry, I forgot, buddy, listen, I really have to get this done at work, I have a briefing scheduled for today, I can’t miss it,” Beau had explained, trying to reason with his 9 year old son. 
“I get it, Dad, it’s ok,” Dylan shrugged before sitting down at the breakfast nook for some scrambled eggs. 
“We’re leaving at 10, get to Oakland for about 8 tonight,” you explained, nodding your head as you forced a smile in Dylan’s direction.
Beau let out a frustrated sigh, of course you weren’t home now - you left four hours ago. You were halfway to Oakland by this point. He leaned his head back against the chair, shutting his eyes for a moment as he dragged his hand over his face once more. He knew he’d fucked up. He knew he’d let you both down. He checked his phone again. If he left now, he could probably make it to you and Dylan by 11 if he made minimal stops on his way. He could make this right, he could show up tonight, surprise you - surprise Dylan in the morning when he woke up, spend the weekend being the father and husband he’d failed to be for the last month or so. 
Beau bolted up the stairs, quickly changing out of his uniform and into more relaxed, civilian clothes. He grabbed a bag from the closet and began to shove some clean clothes inside, showing little care about keeping them neat or organized. He headed to the bathroom, grabbing his toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant and his razor, tossing them all into the bag in a hurry. Bounding back down the staircase, he stepped into his running shoes and flew out the door with his keys and bag in hand. A well-loved baseball cap from his college days sat in the front seat - a relic he’d meant to bestow to Dylan but forgotten about. He placed the cap on his head, sporting it backwards, just as he would have done 30+ years ago when he got it. 
As he drove down the interstate, he thought about the ways he could apologize to you. His mind ran through all the things you liked, the romantic gestures he’d heard you mention, the different romcom tropes you loved - anything he could think of that could make up for what he’d lacked in as a husband. When he stopped for dinner, pulling into a fast-food restaurant just off the highway, he contemplated what he’d say when you asked him if he was insane, knowing that was exactly how you’d respond to hearing that he drove down after all, determined not to miss a minute of Dylan’s tournament. He thought about how he’d pull you in close, giving you an emblazoned, passionate kiss as he held you in his arms, giving a rare, dramatic, public display of affection. He yawned as he pulled into the parking lot of the hotel you were staying at with Dylan, finding an open spot next to your car. He got out, smiling fondly as he spotted the bedazzled steering wheel cover that he always teased you about - the one he’d begrudgingly bought for your birthday when you’d asked for it, pretending to find it ridiculous when really, he was admiring you for it, for being so unashamedly yourself. It was a quality he was jealous of in you - he’d been brought up in an old-school military family, taught to be seen and not heard, to blend in with everyone else and to remain reserved the majority of the time. He rarely cracked a smile outside of the house, and really, even wearing a baseball cap outside of a Padres game was unlike him. 
He approached the front desk with a look of pure determination on his face, his bag clutched in his hand. Once he made it to your room, he rapped on the door with a gentle knock, trying not to make too much noise in the hopes he didn’t wake Dylan. You opened the door, looking ready to chew out whoever it was knocking for waking you, but your look of anger quickly dissipated as you wrapped your arms around Beau tightly. 
“You flew down here?!” You whispered excitedly, arms draped around his neck.
“No, flights were booked,” Beau shook his head with a chuckle, a soft smile forming on his lips, “I drove.”
“You…you drove?”
“Mhmm, all nine hours. I’m surprised I made it before midnight, I finished my briefing early, managed to get the plans set for the mission, and then got home and realized I had time to fix things with you and Dylan.”
“He’ll be so excited. He was devastated at the thought of you not making it to see him play.”
“Look, I have to talk to you, ok?” He began, shaking his head as he let out an awkward chuckle, frowning as he tried to collect his thoughts.
“I’ve been the worst husband to you. I know I have. I know I’ve made you feel unloved, and unwanted, and unimportant, and I’m sorry. I never wanted to make you feel that way. I’ve never wanted our marriage to be strained over my work, and I know my job is demanding and it’s difficult some days for me to put you and Dylan first - but believe me, I love you two more than anything. You know that, right? And, I know you probably aren’t happy with me - I don’t blame you. I know you probably wanted to divorce me ten minutes ago, and you’re complete right in thinking that - I would have deserved it.”
You pressed your lips to his gently, interrupting his rambling with a soft, tender kiss. He pulled away gently, reaching up to take the baseball cap off of his head before ducking down to kiss you again. He pulled away after a moment, breathless and blissful as he gazed at you.
“So, am I still enough for you? Do you want me to leave or do I get another chance?”
“You’ve always been enough, Beau,” you shook your head, beaming up at him, “Even when you forget commitments and you get caught up with work, or when you don’t always say the right thing, you always make up for it and try to fix things, and that’s one of the things I love about you. You drove nine hours when you realized you couldn’t catch a flight down here because you realized how much it meant to Dylan and I for you to be here. I don’t know many other men who’d drop everything on a dime to do that.”
“I guess that’s true,” he nodded, shaking his head in disbelief before leaning in to kiss your cheek. “I mean it though, I really think you could have done better than a middle-aged Admiral who can’t show his emotions very well and doesn’t know how to prioritze anything correctly.”
“You’re right, I could have, but where’s the fun in that?” You teased, taking the baseball cap from his hand and placing it back on his head, backwards.
“By the way, Beau, you should wear a hat like this more often.” 
“Yeah? You think so?”
You bit your lip seductively, holding back a wicked grin as you looked up at him, nodding your head, “Kinda makes me wanna show you just how much I love you.”
“Dylan’s asleep in here,” he laughed, shaking his head as his cheeks flushed.
“Dylan is sleeping in Ryder’s room, three doors away, actually.”
Beau’s eyes widened slightly, his hands drifting down to your hips. He raised an eyebrow as he looked at you, turning his head to the side to scan the room, seeing that, you were in fact, alone. When he turned, you caught a glimpse of the salt and pepper streaks that ran through his hair on the side of his head, the sight alone almost enough to make you melt. 
“Well, in that case, let me show you just how sorry I am.” 
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Text
Room of Requirements
Ominis Gaunt x f!Reader
Summary - Anon request for "I’d love to request a fluffy (smutty if you want) Ominis x reader where reader shows him their room of requirement and the two enjoy some time tending to beasts and the calmness away from the usual bustle of the castle! Mainly I offer up potential smut because the first time I heard the room of requirement described as “a place away from prying eyes” my mind tan with that idea"
Word Count - 1,492
Warnings - 18+ light petting, lots of fluff from softie Ominis
A/N - Characters aged up! This didn't go full smut, but I think could easily have a more smut version at some point.
Since it was your 7th year at Hogwarts, you knew you had to start figuring out what to do with all the animals you had in the vivarium. You knew the life you wanted involved having lots of outdoor space for them to be truly free and safe in, but you may have to find out how to make a vivarium elsewhere.
There wasn't anyone you had considered telling your secret to besides Ominis. You weren't really sure how to tell even him, 'hey by the way, do you want to help me rehome the dozens of mythical beasts I've been hiding inside of the castle?'
It made you laugh a bit to even think about it, but you needed some help brainstorming so it seemed like now the time had come. Luckily you were able to catch him coming out of the common room.
"Ominis!" It made you feel flushed seeing how his face lit up just from hearing you call for him. You bounded up the small staircase to the entrance and looped your arm with his.
"Were you busy? I have an adventure to take you on."
He shook his head, "No, but even if I did have plans would it matter?"
He knew you were beaming up at him, though he couldn't see it. He imagined would it would look like.
"No." You both said in unison.
You briskly led him through the groups of huddled students, to the hallway you knew was often empty.
You stopped him in front of the door to the room of requirements and his eyebrows knitted together. He looked down at you puzzled.
"Y/N? Have you lost your mind? First off, I'm impressed you didn't drag me straight off of the castle grounds. Second, I've been here hundreds of times and there's nothing of interest in this hall."
You grabbed his hand and walked him over to the cavity in the wall which held the most fantastic room you'd found in your time here.
"Well, my dear Ominis, I have news. Right before your unseeing eyes, were I am about to lead us into the room of requirements. You have heard of it, yes?"
You pulled him forward as you pushed the large door open, hurrying him in to shut the door behind you to disappear.
"What!" He pulled out his wand and used it as a means to take in everything that he didn't even know existed before.
He knew you weren't lying to him because the room even smelled different the second you crossed into the threshold. It bared your favorite scent which contrasted the dusty Hogwarts halls.
"Are you kidding me? If I had never known of the Undercroft I wouldn't have ever found it either." He slumped over, clearly pouting.
You placed your hands on either of his shoulders, laughing gently at him, "Ominis this room only shows up if you're in need of it. And well, no offence, but you truly wouldn't have been able to see it even if it presented itself to you."
He sighed. "Well, what is it you needed it for?" His foggy eyes bore right through you before his lips curled up into a sly smile.
He hadn't awareness of much of the room, but he was able to force you backwards until you were pressed against wall, looking up at him curiously.
He raised a hand to to your cheek, the other resting on your hip, "Unless you needed it for us?"
You hadn't even gotten the chance to process his words before his soft lips pressed to yours. It honestly felt like a dream.
You allowed your fingers to snake up the back of his neck to lightly tug on his hair. When he moaned softly against your mouth it sent a ball of fire straight to your stomach.
"Ominis-I-," you gasped between breaths attempting to at least let him know that wasn't why you brought him here, but you were definitely interested.
It just proved to egg him on further as he tugged your body flush to his using one of your belt loops. He released your lips to lean closer to your ear and whisper, "Is there anything in here special for us now?"
You shifted enough to peer behind him and suddenly felt completely embarrassed to see a curtained bed that had made it's appearance in a far corner.
"Ah-Ominis. Th-there is, but I -"
"Then show me to it." You definitely knew the 2 of you had a lot to do and talk about. It was hard to ignore the seduction in his voice, but you knew he would forgive you for what you were about to do.
You remained quiet as you drug him along. As he took cautious steps forward, a much different vision playing out in his head, he stepped right into one of the first floor vivariums with you.
Immediate confusion was on his face as the scents shifted to ocean breeze and he felt it too. It was lightly blowing over his face.
"Y/N?" He stuttered your name out before continuing, his cracking tone betraying him, "I don't quite understand. I -" He dropped his head to the the ground as if he could see. He could now hear the quietest little squeaking noises that he recognized to be a Puffskein.
A Puffskein had rolled into the toe of his shoes. "Y/N, why on earth is there a Puffskein at my feet. What is going on?"
You let go of his hand, to cover your own face, muffling your laughter. Ominis looked fairly embarrassed given his initial assumptions about why you were here and the kind-of-sort-of silent confession he gave away as a result.
"So, Ominis," you picked up the Puffskein and held it near to his palm so he could feel the creatures fur, "I-um- I'm definitely interested in the reason you thought we were here. I think we should pursue that later. However, I wanted to show you my secret vivarium."
You could see him processing all of what you just said, considering whether he should use a memory charm on you or not to make you forget he was about to rip your clothes off just a few moments prior.
He lowered his fingertips to ruffle up the Puffskein's fur and he couldn't keep the smile off his face. It was quickly replaced with confusion, "So wait. You're telling me for, for three years you've just been hiding an entire vivarium of animals in here? In Hogwarts?"
You stepped closer to him, looking up at his glassy eyes when you answered, "What if I told you there were four vivariums?" Your voice came out in a whisper as you finished your sentence.
He raised his hands in astonishment, he always gestured frequently when feeling strong emotions, "Four?! Are you mad? What on earth are you planning on doing with them at the end of the year?"
You saw him flinch pleasingly when you moved your lips near his ear, " I was hoping you could help me figure it out."
He immediately shook his head at you in absolutely disbelief. "Y/N you are full of trouble, d'you know that?"
"Well, if I am to help then I suppose you have to introduce me to everyone?" He sighed in defeat, pretending to be horribly inconvenience, but you knew he loved when you dragged him into your more innocent schemes.
As you grabbed his hand to show him over to the Thestrals, he muttered so you could barely hear it, "And introduce me to more of yourself later too?"
Ignoring the latter part of what was said, you guide him to the Thestral's habitat to show him the animal you were most pleased to have; the most misunderstood of all of them.
"Okay, Ominis, this is my momma thestral, Flora." The creature huffed as he reached his hand towards it to allow a chance to sniff. She quickly nuzzled her leathery forehead against his hand and you could see him light up.
"Are you kidding? This is incredible." He got more comfortable with her and you placed snacks in his palm for him to feed her.
"I love coming here. It's so quiet and calm, it's my own nature getaway within the castle. The best part is nobody can find me here."
He listens to you as you tell him about all of the animals you've had come and go, all the things you've learned that were completely wrong from the textbooks you had all seen.
The 2 of you decided to make it a date to come back at least once a week until you both leave for good, where you'll craft some kind of plan together. He agreed to keep your secret safe as long you as you got to come back to find out what the other mysteriously appearing items in the room of requirement were.
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kamwilliamsonn · 1 year
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The Captain - Leah Williamson
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When you reunite with your best friend after 2 years of facetime only, it was bound to get emotional.
You had deployed into the Royal Navy the moment you turned 18, started off as a Petty Officer, and making your way up the ranks until you were a Captain. You were only 23 when you got the rank, but your first mission was a 2 year long stay on your ship - the HMS Medway - in the Carribbean, you were allowed to Skype and text your family, but you couldn't see them.
It was never much problem not to talk to your birth family, they never agreed with any of your decisions - sexuality or career especially.
But not being able to talk to the Williamson's - to Leah - was definitely difficult.
Leah had been your best friend since birth, the both of you growing up in Milton Keynes, neighbours for your whole life.
You went from seeing each other everyday, to once every couple months, to your only source of communication being Skype.
You were overjoyed for your best friend when she got the role as Interim Captain at the beginning of 2022, and we're even happier for her when she got announced as the actual captain for the Euros.
You knew you needed to be there.
And not just for the final, you wanted to be there for the first match.
So you spoke to your Commanding Officer, your Admiral, but you didn't want to just take a break. You asked him to discharge you.
It was a hard decision, but after 7 years of service, and no life outside your ship for 2 years, you knew it was about time that you take on your next challenge.
Away from the Royal Navy.
But back in London.
He understood greatly, and told you that should you ever wish to come back, your ship would be awaiting you.
And while you gave him a gentle smile,
you knew you were never coming back for good.
-
6th June 2022.
The opening of the Euro's.
England V Austria.
Kick off was at 8pm, in Manchester, Old Trafford.
You arrived in Manchester at 5pm, still fully kitted out in your captain's uniform, your cap set snug on your head.
As soon as you touched down, you messaged the person you trusted most - other than Leah - Lucy Bronze.
You'd known her since Leah broke out in the England squad, and Lucy had become somebody you confided in pretty easily.
You knew she could keep the surprise from Leah - unlike her counterpart, Keira - and would help you out.
So, 10 minutes later, Lucy pulled up at the private airstrip, helping your bags into the car and smiling proudly at you.
You pulled her straight into a hug, relishing in human contact from somebody who wasn't your employee.
"Y/n, it's so good to see you. Two years is way too long." She told you, opening the car door for you and letting you sit in her passenger seat.
You sighed, taking your cap off and placing it on the dashboard in front of you. "I've missed you, Luce."
"Not as much as you've missed Leah, though, I'm sure."
"Well, I hope to never miss her again." You told her.
Her head snaps towards you. "What d'you mean?"
"I'm never going back to the Navy, London will be my home now, Leah will be my home again."
The drive was comfortable, music playing as she drove you to the hotel everybody was staying at, they didn't have to be at Old Trafford until 6:30, ready for warm ups at 7:30, so Lucy organised with Sarina for you to come to the hotel for a bit.
Sarina was more than happy to ablige, a captain of the Royal Navy, one of the only female ones out there.
But as you turned up to the hotel, Lucy couldn't convince you to get out of the car.
"It's been two years, Lucy, what if we aren't the same!" You worried, making her hold your shoulders and force you to look at her.
"Okay, if you're truly that nervous, don't go in there as y/n, 18 year old who first started out in the Navy. Go in there as Captain y/l/n. The youngest female Captain of the Royal Navy. Go in there and stand proud. You are in your uniform, show them why you are what you are."
You took a deep breath and picked up your cap, placing it on your hand.
Lucy patted your thigh softly. "I'll get your bags. You go get your girl."
A blush grew on your face and you looked at her with wide eyes. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
She just scoffed. "Yeah, sure."
-
None of the lionesses were in the Lobby, but Sarina was, waiting for you. She greeted you with a warm smile and a handshake, thanking you for your service - even if she wasn't English, she was honourably one for the rest of her time as the England Coach.
She told you that she was going to call a meeting, that you can wait in another room until everybody was in there and then you'd sneak into the room.
You nodded with a soft smile, agreeing with the plan, knowing that the Lionesses were going to see a very different side to their captain.
And that they did.
With all 23 girls sat in the little meeting room, Lucy having been the last one in, you quietly opened the door and slid in.
A trick you'd learned in your 7 years of service.
Keira, who'd been facing the door, instantly opened her mouth in shock, about to speak until you put a finger up to your mouth.
Slowly but surely, each of the girls figured out you were there - not that they all knew who you were - but didn't say anything, Leah was still unaware.
You snuck up behind her and took off your cap, putting it behind your back, with your arms interlocked - standing at ease, the most comfortable you could feel anymore.
You bent down slowly, until your breath was fanning on her ear. And as she began to turn around to face you, you spoke.
"Hello, my darling, it's been a while." She gasps and stands up instantly, turning around like the flash.
She threw her arms over you and pulled you into the tightest hug she ever had before.
You snuck your arm around her and placed your cap on the table, letting your arms fall tightly around her waist, breathing in her scent.
The comfort of your best friend.
Without even thinking, as soon as she pulled away out of the hug a little, to speak, you pushed your lips against hers.
The rest of the lionesses let out hollers, but neither of you paid them any attention.
She kissed you back with just as much passion.
It felt like just the two of you.
Just as it had many years ago.
Idk how much I like this, but I love the premise, and as somebody who spent many years of her life as a sea cadet, there are some things in life that my heart will always find peace with.
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sillylittleguytm · 5 months
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Indulgence
Papa Emeritus IV x gn!reader
Summary: Just a lazy day in bed with our beloved Papa :)
Warnings: Google translated Italian, nothing really- just pure fluff
Word count: 649
A/N: A little nervous since this is the first fanfic I've ever posted. It's just a drabble of an idea that's been bouncing around in my head for weeks that I finally got around to writing. I intend on writing and hopefully posting more.
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You hardly ever see your own quarters anymore. At this point, you practically live in his.
It all happened very fast, perhaps to make up for the time you and Copia spend dancing around each other. You knew Copia as a Cardinal, secretly and subtly pining for him. He spent the same amount of time falling for you, although far less subtly. Copia didn’t get the confidence to ask you out until he became Papa, and things have been a blur since then. You now invade his closet, his space, his thoughts, and his heart, just as things are meant to be.
You now sit on Copia’s floor, your body facing his small TV and your back pressed against his bed. Copia’s legs rest on both sides of your form as he sits up on the mattress, controller in hand as he plays a game. In your own hands, you hold two juice boxes. It’s your duty to indulge him in a sip of his favorite drink whenever he lovingly nudges your head with his thigh. It made you giggle every time.
It was a beautiful sight, really. You got the privilege of seeing your beloved Papa and lover bare-faced, wearing just a t-shirt and boxers while he lost himself in this mindless game with you by his side. It was one of the few times that Copia truly got to relax. Here, he wasn’t Papa Emeritus IV, he was just Copia. Inwardly, he was overjoyed to have someone he could feel this comfortable with. He thanks Lucifer every day for your presence in his life. You felt very similarly, grateful that you're able to be a safe space for him.
As you zone out and admire him, his plush thigh makes gentle contact with your head again. You laugh quietly to yourself as you lift the juice box to his lips. He noisily sucks it down before pulling back from the straw. “Grazie, amore.”
You hum softly in response before setting the juice boxes off to the side and straying from your spot on the floor. You rise and take the controller from his hands. He grumbles quietly in protest as you pause the game, but all of his complaints die in his throat at you place yourself in his lap, burying your face in his neck. Copia chuckles and wraps his arms around you in return.
"Is watching me play really that boring, schricchio?" Copia teases, running his hands up and down your back. You look up at him with a loving smile.
"No, I'd just rather watch you instead." You say. Copia's face lights up with a warm and infectious grin and he immediately begins to pepper kisses all over your face, causing you to giggle and squirm in his lap.
"Il mio cuore, la mia vita." Copia mutters in between kisses. "Sei troppo dolce per questa terra, amore." As the kisses come to an end, you look at each other with adoration. Even with your unkempt hair and the clothes you slept in the night before, you were utter perfection to him.
"Ti amo tanto, tesoro. You don't know what you mean to me." Copia says affectionately, brushing back your hair to give a final kiss on your forehead. You beam under his loving gaze before you notice his expression shift. His smile becomes a smirk and you know just what's about to happen.
"Copia, I swear to Lucifer below if you-" Your warning is cut off as he restrains you with one arm and tickles you relentlessly with the other. You scream and squeal and thrash as he continues the playful assault. "Stop! Stop!" You yelp, trying to fight back through laughter.
Eventually, Copia decides to have mercy on you. His tickling comes to an end and you lay limp in his arms trying to catch your breath. "Oh, I hate you so much." You breathe, playfully smacking his shoulder. He chuckles at this.
"I love you too. Now, shall I get back to my game that you so very rudely interrupted, piccolo diavoletto?" Copia jokes, keeping you in his lap and picking up his controller. "Don't worry, you can play with me this time."
-----
Translations:
"Grazie, amore"- Thank you, love.
"schricchio"- Squeak
"Il mio cuore, la mia vita. Sei troppo dolce per questa terra."- My heart, my life. You are too sweet for this world.
"Ti amo tanto, tesoro."- I love you so much, treasure.
"piccolo diavoletto"- Little devil
A/N: Thank you for reading! I really do hope you enjoyed this. Like I said, I intend on posting some more drabbles. However, I do have an idea for a full length Terzo fic teehee
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ronkeyroo · 5 months
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A positive Update
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Friends, kind folk - Hello Again 🤍
Ever since my last update post, I've been thinking about it , a lot ;; I knew I needed time to cook and reflect, and im so glad I gave myself that...
2024 started rough for me; I fell severely ill again - I was too busy cursing my life and dwelling over how betrayed I felt by things still not getting better despite my efforts that I didn't realize I was walking into a self fulfilling prophecy. Its true that the struggles I'm going through are yet to be solved, that its gotten so much to the point giving up seemed easier, and that a couple individuals haven't been making it easier on me either; I swayed and i rattled and I steered within feelings ranging from confusion to anger to dismay and all of this back and forth did nothing but remind me of yet another self-destructive loop I just don't want to allow in my life anymore. Its exactly the kinda stuff that made me ill to begin with, and I've been so lost dealing with everything in between that i forgot to tend to the actual core centering all of this...
It grew unbearable how much emotional and physical turmoil I was pushing myself into, and knowing how intertwined these two elements have been; I had to draw a line before i majorly screwed myself over, gathering any bit of inner will to discipline myself back into some sort of clarity, enough to at least look through a lens OUTSIDE my pain for once, towards the kind of life I want to lead, and the kind of life I don't; and I came to an understanding.
From my physical state to my mental, to the people and memories I've experienced, both the good and the bad - I want to prioritize the good.
Not in a shitty ass, toxic optimism kinda way but in a "I want to prioritize knowing and living the possibility that even when it hurts, even when i want to be gone, even when life doesn't align - There's still every good reason in the world to keep moving forward, to face things from a perspective of growth & compassion, and to grow to love the promise of a better tomorrow even when today was unbearable." To know that I don't end or begin in my suffering, that the infinite potential I speak so fondly of applies to me, as well...
I want to be able to wield and create and share that goodness, too, Especially when it is already in decline...And for all gods sake, to internalize that all of this STILL exists and STILL matters even when it doesn't work the first couple or dozens of times.
As for my place here in Tumblr...I know the sentiment might feel silly to some but the experiences, memories, and connections I've made here have truly been such a significant force in my life, and i don't want to give up on that ;; Not because of my own insecurities, or an inner state of hopelessness, and especially not over a bunch of emotionally immature Anons that dont know how to handle themselves; I want to forgive all of that.
I'm stubborn, and there's an unyielding force within me that no matter how many times it is struck down, it proved itself ridiculously resilient. I'm perking up with with a fiery confidence realizing just how many times it rose back up, enough to realize it is an unchangeable part of me ;_; I shouldn't underestimate that force, and I want to keep living by its side. Whatever positive change I can sprinkle onto my life and the lives of those I care for, I will! And the reason why this space in particular is so important to me, is because so much of that already exists here, alongside you folks;
THAT'S the kind of energy i want to nourish and walk into the new year with! I want to continue growing as a person, challenging my inner turmoils, undoing the self punishing dogmas that still haunt me, stop flexing my teeth over things that don't deserve my time and god DAMN, just - indulge in the stuff that makes me happy, even when I'm going through unhappy times.
So yeah...I guess that means, I'm back & I'm staying ;_;)🧡
I know i may seem like a broken record when it comes to expressing gratitude but - Thank you, thank you thank you everyone who have reached out for me, who so fondly kept me in their thoughts and kept encouraging me whenever i was hurting, both then and now...You folks mean more than whatever ailment or struggle I can go through, and while I'm unsure of how the future will look like as I'm still going through various challenges- I couldn't have asked for a cooler, sweeter audience to have by my side whenever Its time to take a rest or hype over our sexy delicious blorbos!
Speaking of which....................I have been cooking quite a lot of things in the time i was away 👀✨ I most definitely intend to serve them, eheheh
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darkbluekies · 11 months
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The Hedwig diaries: I want to kill
Warnings: mentions of wanting to kill, yandere, jealousy, obsession
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Dear diary, I want to kill and you have to believe it's more than just selfish reasons. I don't know what else to do. I respect everyone, why can't they respect me? Why does no one think that my relationship is serious? I love Y/N more than anything else in this entire world! Am I the only one seeing that? Certainly not, right?
Someone tried to approach them today in the cafeteria. I could see in an instant that he had no good intentions. I've tried to get Y/N to ditch the grotesque cafeteria food, but they won't hear me out … I can't for the life of me understand why. I've told them that I can get my chef to make lunchboxes for us both, but they squirm when I'm trying. I think it's because of what others will think. Y/N wants to blend in and not stand out. Being with me only complicates that. They told me once that if they would start eating food from my house, they'd stand out even more — people might even think they're a gold digger, that they're using me. I know Y/N, I know they're not. Why do they have to care what others think so badly?
Anyways, this person who talked to my love finally admitted his defeat when Y/N told him to go away. I hugged their arm and they told me that it was okay. They could sense that I got uncomfortable. Bless their wonderful soul. But it wasn't okay. How could anything be okay when someone had just tried to steal my partner in front of me?! As if it didn't even matter?!
I tried not to sulk for the rest of the day, but there was a nagging feeling that I couldn't shake off. Although that person had stepped away, the audacity of them to ask in the first place made me furious and I knew that I wouldn't be able to relax as long as they were around. As long as they breathe. It still makes my blood boil writing now.
"Can I do something to cheer you up?" Y/N asked. "Did I do something wrong?"
Y/N? Do something wrong? How could they ever think such nonsense?! I could tell how worried they were and I instantly felt bad that my horrible mood spilled over to them — to the point where they had started blaming themselves. I kissed them and I hope that was enough to reassure them that they were the most non-wrong thing in my life. Plus, I bought them a juice box from the vending machine to make them happy. They did smile a bit afterwards ♡
Y/N is sleeping right now. They look so sweet, I wish I could keep this moment forever. I've taken countless photos … but I want more. Photos and videos aren't enough. I want to freeze this time and stay here forever. I want to be this moment, as crazy as it may sound. I'm going to bed soon too, but I had to get this out of me or else I wouldn’t be able to sleep. I've never been so furious before. I've never wanted to kill before. I've never liked horror or gore of any kind, but when it comes to Y/N … then it just feels like the only solution. I don't want anyone to look at them the way I do. I don't like it when others capture their precious time. It makes my skin crawl.
I'm going to put down the pen and join my dearest. I’m exhausted after this stressful day. I’m going to ask Y/N if they want to go to the spa tomorrow to relax. 
Yours truly, 
Hedwig 
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bluetooththereptile · 8 months
Text
An idea
Aged up reader who is actually Bruce's ex wife, they had married in secret when he was in his first year as batman and then split up because of both his ignorance of he and also him cheating on her with Selina, but now he wants her back, after 20 years he wants her back, BADLY.
Bruce takes the cake, waiting for her to have her piece before he himself digs in. Then finally, after a long pause of silence, he finally has to ask: "Did you ever love me?"
"What do you think?"
He stays quiet, his eyes locked on hers. He knows the answer. He's known it for years now, yet he can't bring himself to truly accept it. "Do I think you loved me? Yes. I know you did." What hurts the most is that she doesn't say "yes" herself. That she's just sitting across from him, not answering the question. But her silence is an answer in itself. It's one that hurts more than anything to hear.
"When you know then why do you ask?"
Bruce stays silent for a moment, processing all of this before answering your question with one of his own: "Why do I still love you after all that time? After all the distance? After not seeing you for so long?"
"Why?"
He swallows the lump in his throat. It's a tough question to answer, but he has to be honest. "I don't know how anyone can forget the person they shared a life with... that they had a future with for so long," he says quietly. "I suppose I still love you because I can't help but still picture that future with us."
"It's been 20 years Bruce, I think you've spent enough time to realize we couldn't be together"
"Maybe so, but I have to tell you that in these twenty years since... it hasn't gotten easier as you'd think it might. I'm still hurt by the loss of you in my life." He sighs. "Maybe you're right. But at the same time... it's hard not to think about what might've been if we were able to make things work."
"If we were going to go back together, what would you do?"
It takes Bruce a moment to contemplate his answer. Because it's a question he never honestly thought he would ever be asked. But here he is now, being faced with that very scenario. What would he do if they were able to go back together? What changes would have to be made? Or what changes would he be willing to make? How far would he go, just to have her back in his life again?
She arched her brow, waiting for his answer.
"I would do.... anything you'd wanted me to," he says as he looks straight into her eyes. He's not sure she fully realizes what he means. "I would give up everything. Including being Batman. If it meant we would be together." After everything he's been through in his life... as Bruce Wayne and as Batman... he means it when he says this. He's willing to do whatever it takes just to have her back.
"Oh dear..."
"Do you not feel the same way?" Bruce asks. "Have I not spent enough time alone with my thoughts? Enough time thinking back on our memories? Enough time working through what we could've been as a couple? Enough time imagining a life with you?"
"I have to think about it..."
"Think about this..." Bruce doesn't want to force her into giving up her answer. But he can't stay quiet about his feelings any longer either. "Think about all the things I've given up to be as Batman." He pauses for a moment to let this sink in. "All the sacrifices... the years where I should've been by your side, and I wasn't." He leans in closer now. He wants to try and make the case for himself. Try and convince her of his genuine intentions.
"We both know it wasn't just your life as batman..."
Here it is again... that reality check. That one reminder that Bruce is fully aware of. The reason why he and she grew so distant in the first place. Still, he stays quiet for a bit before speaking. "You're right. It wasn't just the years of being Batman... there were others things getting in the way too." He thinks back to his other love, Selina. To the years he spent with her and what he lost in order to pursue that relationship. His focus is back on her again.
"You were marrying Selina at one point, how can I trust that you won't choose her over me again if she wanted you back?"
"What I did with Selina, there's no excuses for," Bruce confesses. "I know it was a betrayal to you, to our past, to everything we'd planned together." "But Selina is in the past. And I've finally cut ties with her. I'm not looking to be with her anymore. I can't give you any reassurance for what the future holds. I can't give you that for what will happen from one day to the next. But I can give you my word that I'll never walk out on you again."
"What will ensure that?"
"Nothing in this life is guaranteed, but what I can tell you is that I'm not the same man I was then." He leans in closer to her, looking straight at her. "I'm older. I'm wiser. And I understand what I want my life to be like. And if I'm being honest... I already have it. Just being here and spending time with you again means more to me than you can imagine." "I may not be able to give you any guarantees... but what I can give you is my heart."
She gave him a hesitant look, putting her fork down. Chewing on the cake slowly as she contemplated his answer.
Bruce waits patiently for her to come to an answer. This is it... the moment where she decides to either rekindle the flame they once shared or walk away once more. Whatever her answer may be, he'll accept it. He'll understand if she needs more time to figure everything out as well. But here's hoping her answer is the one he's secretly hoping for.
"I just don't want anyone to know about us yet...alright? You know how much I care about my privacy"
Bruce can't contain his excitement. But he does his best to play it cool in the cafe. He wouldn't want to draw too much attention to their little reunion here. "Of course, darling." Bruce nods in her direction, his hand almost reaching for hers. "We'll keep everything quiet. Our little secret... and I promise that nobody will ever find out." As much as he wants his friends and family to know about this unexpected reunion between them, he knows that her privacy is important to her. For now, their love and reconciliation will be their little secret.
She sighed and smiled for the first time, playing with the cream on her cake.
He smiled back, reaching his hand across the small table as he gently takes her hand into his. In that moment, it was like they had transported back in time, back to when they were young and before the pain and betrayal of their relationship. For a couple of moments, they held each other's hands while taking in the silence of the small cafe.
"What will happen to us? I mean...we are old now!" She said in a chuckle "It's been a long time..."
"Too long," Bruce replies warmly. His smile grows wider as she chuckles to herself, her words warming his heart. "But I don't see why we should worry about that for now. Let's just catch up for now and figure everything else out later. You know, once we've decided if this is the path we both want to take together."
She nodded, tangling her fingers with his.
A warmth spread through Bruce's body as he felt a familiar feeling of her fingers interwoven with his own. Something about the feeling made Bruce feel like he was finally becoming whole again, that this reunion with her was the cure for the loneliness he's been feeling for all these years. "I need to tell you something, darling."
"Hmm?" She hummed, still playing with her cake.
"You were right. When we first got married, I couldn't give you the love you deserved." He looks straight at her, waiting for her reaction. He was prepared for her to be upset, but deep down he hoped she wouldn't. "But now, being in your presence again... it's like I'm suddenly seeing something I've been missing all these years." "You were the only one I truly loved, darling. I just didn't know it then. But I do now."
She gave him a half sarcastic smirk "Oh you..."
"No, I'm serious," Bruce protested. "From the first moment I laid eyes on you... this was my destiny. This was what was always meant to be. Us... this..." He gestures around the cafe. "I don't care how many years have passed. That feeling I felt for you when I first met you all those years ago... it never went away. It's only grown. Because it's true love. It's real."
She chuckled, shaking her head as she looked out of the window, watching the rain pour down with a sigh "You could have told me sooner you know, saving 20 years of loneliness..."
"You don't think I didn't regret that?" Bruce asks. "If only you knew... the nights I spent alone, thinking about the life we could've had together. The days when I was Batman and feeling just... empty. The nights crying myself to sleep because I wished you were... Just here." For the first time in a long time, Bruce looks down at the floor, unable to meet her eyes. He takes a long, sad breath. "I never got over you. Darling, if there was any one person who had the power to heal my broken heart... it was you."
She didn't turn her head at him, but kept his hand in hers, her instincts told her that is was not a good idea at all, Bruce had changed alot since the time they were married, too much in fact, he could now do dark things, much darker than she could imagine, but her heart wanted him back.
They sit in silence for a long while, Nina still holding onto Bruce's hand. Slowly, her head turns towards him. She notices his eyes are fixed to the floor in front of them. And then, she does the unexpected: She moves her hand along Bruce's arm towards his shoulder. Her fingers caress his shirt sleeve. She knows it's going to have him turn his attention on her. She's done something similar, long years ago, to get his attention as well. "Bruce?"
"Promise me you won't leave me again?"
Bruce looks up just in time to see her holding him in her gaze. And before he can even answer, he reaches his other hand down to hold her face in his hands. "I swear, darling" he says softly. "For as long as I live, you will always be the one. I'll never leave you. I'll be with you for the rest of my life." His gaze drops back down onto her face, their foreheads now touching. "You will always be mine, and I will always be yours."
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heyidkyay · 7 months
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And I'm petrified of being alone, now |
Part One
Matty Healy x reader
Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.
What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 
Warnings: This is gonna deal with a lot of controversial shit surrounding Matty and his past I'm ngl, so if you're not into that then I'd suggest not reading this! But if you are, then hi!! I hope you enjoy?
Authors Note: I'm back...:)) Back with a series too, or it will be if this first part goes down well! Lmao so pls don't hate it! Butttt in all honestly, I do have to quickly thank @procrastinatinglikeapro for all the kind words she gave me on the snippets I annoyed her with recently and for forcing me to actually believe in this fic because I very much was on the fence about posting again. So thank youuuu, it means a whole lot<3 Also, the skeleton of this was taken from a very old fic of mine which I started during the height of covid that I've just been thinking about trying to better for a long while now, so... enjoy?
And I guess let me know if this is something anyone would want to read more of? Yeeeeah, I really don't know what else to write here now, it's been a while, so! Hi, help, bye:)
Masterlist
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“Yeah, yeah! I’m really into their sound at the minute! Honestly fell in love with their recent performance at the VMA’s- didn’t overdo it and kept true to themselves. Definitely did a great job there, so well done with that one if you’re listening in, lads!”
I was grinning from ear to ear as I spoke into the microphone before me, which was to be expected whenever I was at work. Strange, yeah I know, but only to any typical person with the usual nine to five, because I truly did love my job. It was tough work, strenuous at times, contrary to what most might believe, but it was pretty much everything I’d ever dreamt of.
See, I’d grown up on the outskirts of this tiny village in the Isles, where everybody knew everything about everybody. Secrets were never well kept- you could just ask our local priest about that one, who had often used to regale most of the confessions he’d heard in the only pub around for miles whenever he was pissed beyond being able to sit on his barstool. And it was also incredibly tight-knit, as in, all the kids who went to school together, then grew up and married one another, settling down and taking over the jobs that their parents or grandparents soon retired from. Hardly anyone moved away, if ever.
In reality though, it was actually just a place I’d always felt like a stranger in. Where I’d struggled to fit in and make friends, to form bonds outside of the one I shared with my mum.
I’d had a tough go of it back in school actually. ‘Mouse’ was what they’d seemingly dubbed me back then, a nickname which had travelled the masses all too quickly seeing as there had only been about sixteen kids in both my year and the one above. 
It had mostly been due to me just having been an extremely timid child, hiding behind my mum’s flowing skirts whenever we went into town and much preferring that of my own company. But that fact hadn’t gotten any easier for me once I’d been forced out of school for a few years after an accident that had flipped my entire life on its head. Resulting in me being further isolated from the rest of the world and my fuck-face of a father running for the hills.
Still. Shit happened, I supposed, and I’d been forced to grow up.
Too quickly, in truth.
So whilst everyone else had been out living, I’d been holed up in our little dove cottage miles away from them all, with only books and music to keep me company. Music which had been a true constant in my life and just about the only thing that had gotten me by.
As well as my mum, who’d forever be my rock. And back when we’d both been growing up, she had always had the tele on full blast throughout the day, cycling through the freeview channels that played the recent top 50 and old school classics.
It was one of my favourite things to look back on now, if she was ever in the mood, or when the power would finally flicker and go out completely, she’d spin this old phonograph her own father had gifted her in the days before she’d left home. The two of us would dance around the living room whilst she’d clean on Saturday mornings and then hum to it as we settled in for a long storm, her working on her trusty crossword whilst I would read or draw. It would croon out old French records she had bought long before she’d moved to the UK, and before she’d ever even met my dad.
And I would just lose myself in it all. 
It wasn’t just the basic premise of music that I had enjoyed though, it was everything else that also came along with it. The opinions, the reviews, the personal stories and thoughts, the way it made a person feel. 
So, for years I would just sit down at the kitchen table and write for hours on end about the sound, the rhythms I’d felt and heard, the lyrics that had had me bellowing out or playing on a never-ending loop in my head. And then, as a teen, Twitter had come along and had been just another way for me to express it all.
That was what had led to all this actually. The radio.
At first, I’d never paid much mind to all of the people who had started to discover the small page I’d created, the users that had enjoyed reading my inner thoughts. But then I had and it had been an insane concept to comprehend, but was also what had, ultimately, pushed me into continuing with it.
From there, opinions on genres of music and their style throughout different decades turned into thoughts on up and coming artists, then actors and other A-list celebrities. So, I’d ended up spending an awful lot of time online, simply just tweeting about it all, on subjects followers had wanted to hear about and answering questions on whether I loved a certain album or new EP. 
The account had grown rapidly after and by the time I’d had the balls to tell my mum I’d wanted to leave home and make a start for myself, in London of all places, it had gained well over fifteen thousand followers.
I went to uni down there and met people. People who didn’t shy away from me or shine a light on my odd quirks. I met my best mate there, too. And Finn was unlike any other. The platonic love of my life, or so I’d dubbed. He was eccentric, witty, and didn’t care about what anyone else thought of him. Forced me to feel that way too, slowly but surely. And it had only taken a few weeks before he'd grown rather suspicious of my constant need to always have my phone near.
He had, pretty early on, decided that I must’ve had some secret boyfriend back at home that I’d yet to tell him about and had annoyed me about it at every twist and turn, basically backed me into a metaphorical corner. So to say I’d relented fairly quickly wouldn’t be a lie, and I’d told him all about the account soon enough.
Finn had actually been the one to suggest that I take it somewhere bigger, make it into something people could tune into and not just read about. I had actually taken that consideration on board way back then, but had only acted on it when shit had hit the fan a year or so later. But we'll get to that.
So with it all, I’d made an actual radio show out of my thoughtless Twitter account, allowing people to listen in and actually get to know the person behind the name.
That was essentially how ‘Mouse On A Mic' had come to life.
Yup, I’d kept the fucking nickname! I couldn’t not in truth, it was familiar, reminded me of the person I once was, and who I am now. But the only difference was, I’d given it a new story. I’d claimed it. 
The show's audience grew fairly quickly during that first year, I was new on the scene and seemingly refreshing. I had a no-bullshit kind of attitude that my listeners admired. I called celebs out on their crap and went to new extremes to conjure up inventive ways to get followers involved. 
Ultimately doing things that other radio presenters were afraid to do at the time. Which was fair enough, in hindsight, they had actual endorsers and brands that were backing them up and funding their streams. Me, on the other hand, had no-one to answer to for my mistakes or any backlash the show received. It was just me, sat alone in my bedroom, speaking into a mic.
Only now, it was me sitting in a quaint little studio in East, not too far from my flat and walking distance from any and every coffee chain London had to offer. 
Anyway, back to the current show! I adjusted my headset over my ear as I wheeled closer to the table, aware of the many monitors and cables I was constantly trying to avoid and glanced upwards, locking eyes with my co-producer, Adi.
The girl shot me a hurried gesture, a circular wave of her hand that had me chuckling to myself even as I waved her off, knowing I’d already gotten off track one too many times this recording. 
"Alright! It seems as though we've got to move on with the next segment of the show now! Unfortunately, Ads here has informed me that I can't just sit around all day and talk about Inhaler forever. A right shame that, don’t you think?”
I huffed theatrically, whilst Adi merely shook her head at me in return, dark ringlets brushing the length of her shoulders as she mouthed the word 'prick' through the thick sheet of plexiglass that separated us.
Ignoring that loving endearment in favour of continuing on with the commentary, I hoped I hadn’t steered too far off track, there was still a lot scheduled for today's show that I had yet to go over.
“So moving on!” I sighed into the mic and rubbed my palms together, “It seems like quite a few of you lot, on Twitter especially, have made it loudly known that you want to hear my thoughts on Manchester’s very own Matthew Healy. God, is there yet another scandal under his belt I don’t yet know about, where’s he finding the time?”
I shook my head briefly and rolled forward in my seat. The wheels squeaked beneath my weight and I made a silent prayer that the mics hadn’t picked up the sound. 
What a fucking topic, I thought quietly to myself and sent Adi a semi-amused smile before I peered down at the recent headline she had handed over to me earlier that morning.
It was the same old thing. Expected really at this point.
“Healy’s at it again! Whatever will we do?” I gasped, dramatising the whole thing as I stared down at the images of the haughty singer that were plastered across the printout I held in front of me. 
There were four of them, a quick succession that had all seemingly come from a clip at a recent concert. Bit blurry but the title gave away to what was happening.
A laugh bubbled up out of me as soon as I read the headline. “Oh god, it appears Matty Healy is- just wait for it!- back at it again, only this time it seems he’s gone and traded off a drumstick for…” I paused to drum quite the anticipating beat against the tabletop, and as stoic as I could, I then added, “A joint!” And a smug grin made its way up onto my lips when I heard Adi’s faint cackle echo from just outside the booth.
“Honestly, I swear that everything this man does makes the rags! Reckon I saw an article about how he took his tea one time. And like, do me a favour, yeah? A man of the people though, in’t he? He’s got to be! I mean, just look at this headline. Fucking who the hell writes this shit?”
Tossers, I supposed. But even so.
“It’s madness.” I muttered, clucking my tongue, “But anyway, I’m guessing that most people claim him to be the epitome of a realtime rockstar, and sure, he might just be. 'Sex, drugs, rock & roll', all that shit. But how much longer is it going to last until everything goes tits up, hey?
“I mean, Healy can pretty much do whatever he wants at this point, he’s got half the world either falling at his feet or complaining about him- has done since he was what, a kid? Following his parents among the shadows of their fame before he stepped out and made an actual name for himself. It is insane to see how much he’s changed though!”
And it was. He and his band had risen to fame so evidently, their music was everywhere, they sold out shows constantly, and had the privilege to fly across the globe doing whatever they pleased. But they’d also practically grown up in the limelight, Matty especially. So it was hard not to notice the resounding changes. 
“But, if I am being truthful. And when am I not? I thought that most of the shit that went around about him at first was a load of crap- publicity of sorts, if you get where I'm going with that. Or just him being an idiot, a lad who’s had to grow up with all these cameras on him all the time and had to basically learn what he can and can’t say in front of them. Slipping up from time to time, like most do. But, now? I’m honestly not too sure… It’s just a bit sad. In’t it? There was so much potential there.”
I shrugged, a hearty sigh falling with my shoulders.
“I actually used to quite like his stuff a couple years ago, he’s got a way with words, with just music overall really. Reckon if he’d gotten his shit together he could’ve been ranked higher up on the list of rockstars. Could’ve changed or paved a way for newer musicians. But not so much anymore. His songs lack the passion they once had, they’re not what they used to be. He works hard, I’ll give him that. But, I can’t help but wonder if it’s just his band pulling his dead weight along with them now.”
I took a slow breath, then gazed down at the small amount of sticky notes I had pinned to the monitor beside me: the next segment. I’d have to wrap this one up quickly.
“Maybe that’s a bit harsh.” I said, “But honestly, I just hope he takes an actual break sooner rather than later. The band looks spent and he just seems like he could do with some time away from all the cameras and prying eyes. Just so he can sort himself out good and proper, you know? Then again, that’s just my opinion among a sea of many.”
Truthfully? I really did think that Matty had talent, and he seemed like a sound enough guy- or at least he had done, a couple of years back, before all the controversy and whatever else. Now though, the guy just seemed so caught up in it all, in the fame, the tabloids, the drama. Unaware of just how far he’d fallen.
Me, I’d seen it one too many times before, with many of the greats even, and as painful as it was to watch, what more could I do, or say? I'm a nobody in comparison.
I blew out a short breath.
“Fuck, that got all serious didn’t it?” I tried to laugh off and only felt a little more at ease when I glanced up and caught Adi’s sincere smile, “Anyway, onto our next segment, reading a couple of your lots tweets! Let's see what everyone's saying about our amazing Adi today, hey? What was it last week, Ads- those yellow trousers you were wearing?”
--
“Oi, will you two stop mucking about, please? We’ve got to get going!” I scolded without any real heat, shaking my head as I held back chuckles, always amused by the infamous pair. 
I’d not long left the studio, having walked with Adi to the nearby train station before heading over to Finn’s, and was currently packing away the belongings that had been messily upended from the Spiderman backpack I was often seen carrying about. 
My gaze wandered over to the other side of the room once I’d teethed together the bag’s plastic zipper, over to where my son, Teddy, was currently in the midst of being whirled around by his godfather, tawny coloured curls flying in every-which direction as his cheeky grin grew even more prominent.
I felt the corners of my mouth tug upwards as I watched my best mate laugh at whatever the toddler had just said, tickling the boy’s sides too. If I was feeling incredibly sappy, I’d tell Finn then just how thankful I was to have him around, because he truly was incredible. 
From the moment I’d found out that I was pregnant, Finn had been there for me. He loved my son almost as though Teddy was his own, he adored the kid like no other and had placed him on a pedestal above everyone else since the day he was born. 
Finn was always free to take teddy whenever I had the show to fret about too, or if I was ever in dire need of another helping hand. He was fiercely protective of the two of us and I knew in the very depths of my heart that there would never be a hair harmed on my son’s head as long as he was around. 
I was pulled from my thoughts just as the toddler in question came bounding over, giggling uncontrollably as Finn chased after him, his arms stretched out wide and crouched down to mimic the small boy's height. I couldn't help but notice the matching grins they both wore.
“Help!” Teddy squealed as he flung himself into my awaiting arms, allowing me to wrap him up and settle him safely on my hip, using my frame as a shield to block him from Finn’s view.
"You can't hide from me Teds, I’ll always find you!" Finn taunted playfully, laughing merrily as he wiggled his fingers at Teddy, who was only just peeking out at him from over my shoulder.
Teddy squirmed in my grasp, giggling and screaming senselessly as he tried to dodge Finn’s oncoming hands that had since managed to softly graze his sides. I could only roll his eyes in fond exasperation, the pair never failing to brighten my day, and I couldn't help but feel ever so grateful for whatever being had brought Finn into both mine and Teddy’s lives.
You see, Finn was the closest thing I’d ever had to a brother, let alone a best friend. He’d been the family I’d never known I’d needed, a home away from home. And I knew that I could always count on him for just about anything and he had proved that the day I’d turned up on his doorstep in the pissing rain one Tuesday night, utterly terrified after having just found out that I was pregnant. 
“Alright, you lot!” I began, batting away one of Finn’s oncoming hands as he made to grab at Teddy's tiny ankle. “We've got to get home in time for your bath and tea, and I think Finn here has to pick up Liv from work.”
I was directing my voice towards the toddler in my arms but also sent a knowing look Finn’s way, one which caused the man’s eyes to widen in immediate realisation. ‘Liv’ was actually Olivia, Finn’s newest fling, only she had managed to last quite a while longer than the rest, a new record for him really. 
“Shit, yeah.” Finn muttered before he hurried over to his desk in the far corner. I could only chuckle quietly, Teddy joining in too when he noticed, and watch on as he hastily started to grab at an array of items, shoving them into his jean pockets. Phone. Wallet. Keys.
When he was finished, Finn spun back around towards us and shot an accusing brow our way, not too pleased about having been the source of our amassment. Teddy and I couldn't help ourselves then and laughed a little harder at his impervious expression. 
With that done and over with, I pressed my nose against the side of Teddy's head and smiled contently into his curls whilst Finn merely rolled his eyes at us, chuckling before he made a start for the door. I followed just behind, Teddy's backpack slung low over my shoulder and a happy little boy nestled in my arms.
***
People lover @/user1 Imagine being a mediocre radio host and thinking you know the ins and outs of the music industry.. #CancelMouse 102 @/user2  Don't mind me, reckon I just found my new favourite radio show:) Ugh! @/user3 Mouse sounded proper excited today but switched up so quick when that 75 bloke came up:// Soloveme @/user4 Hate to see people supporting toxic behaviour, sit down.  Milk @/user5 Don’t hate me, I'll forever be a matty girlie!! But @Mouseonamic I kinda agree?? Paris @/user6 Do you think he’s seen it yet? > Too_shy @/user7 Probably, it’s trending rn >> Drummepls @/user8 Hope he’s okay and doesn’t take it as a personal attack.. 
He should’ve known really.
He should’ve fucking known.
Even in his drunken state he should have known not to look at what they were fucking saying about him. Slumped on the floor of his hotel room, propped up against the bathroom door, too exhausted to think about moving, let alone try.
He’d only heard a snippet, caught the last of it in the cab ride back from the club the band had found themselves in. But he had heard it, and he’d listened. 
"He's got the whole world falling at his feet." He fucking wished. "Changed." Too right. "A load of crap- publicity of sorts, if you get where I'm going with that- but now I'm not too sure." Laughable, man. "It's just a bit sad." The story of his fucking life. "Potential." When’s he never not disappointing someone? "Lacks passion." Passion lies in living, mate, and he hasn't felt alive in a very long time. 
"Not what it used to be." Who he used to be.
He lit another cigarette from a crumpled pack he’d pulled from his back pocket. Watched on as a curl of smoke unfurled in the air. He only wished he’d brought something upstairs with him, or grabbed one of the little bottles from the minibar before deciding he’d needed a piss. But if he closed his eyes hard enough he could imagine it all going dark, the world fading around him. 
Though, even then he still couldn’t quite muffle the loud, pitying laugh that escaped him as he continued to scroll through the mass of tweets that never faltered. They were like a freight train, unable to stop.
Matty wiped his nose on his sleeve.
Never had he ever felt so fucking lost. Desperate for everything to just pause for a second. To stop and leave him alone for a bit. The world to let him wallow in the dark, dank pit he's hollowed out for himself.
But what a fucking life, hey.
Carelessly, he thumbed across the dimming screen, his intoxicated mind too focused on the task at hand to remember why exactly it was he was even sitting there on the cold bathroom floor. Something to do with Hann, he supposed, or George. Perhaps another heated encounter? Probably.
The sound of his phone's keyboard echoed off the surrounding walls and Matty breathed out a self-depreciating chuckle when he clicked send on the tweet he’d curated, not caring enough for the consequences. Hardly even thinking, in truth. He was far too gone to care anymore, already knew firsthand what the consequences would be tomorrow. But at that moment, he just wanted honesty. To tell the truth, for once. To let them all know that he knew he was a shit excuse for a person.
What more could the world possibly say anyway? 
Everyone around him was the same. He was simply just a puppet on a string. They’d make him sing and dance until the day he finally wrapped those wired strings tightly around his neck, and then all they'd be able to do is sit back and watch the show. And he'd enjoy every unabating second of it.
Matty @/trumanblack 10s ago Radio shows are sick man, gotta love them! And I sort of am sad haha. And I do lie, we all lie, I spose. But just listen to the radio, kids!
He laughed silently after, amused with himself, and tossed the phone off somewhere off to the side so he wouldn’t have to look at it again. 
Bullshit. It was all just fucking bullshit.
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the amount of times i Do This must be a joke at this point but here i am. doing it once more. izaya's highschool videogame SCREAMS "i just found out i have aspd and i am NOT taking it well." and i shall explain how
a preface: wrt "how did he know in high school, don't you have to be 18?" you do.... with the dsm guidelines. japan, iirc, uses a conbination of the dsm and icd to diagnose mental illnesses, and the age stipulation isn't in the icd. also, shinra could have told him, and lbr shinra wouldnt care about strictly adhering to the age thing
anyway i went thru and highlighted different parts of the videogame's text, so i can easier explain which part means what. i'll primarily be focusing on the chronic boredom associated with aspd- since izaya's game deals with patience, most musings in it will be related to that boredom. but the boredom, especially izaya's, IS important, as its the boredom that drives him to do what he does. to be what he is.
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(shoutout to miyukiwinter for the scan)
so... the red bit. this relates to izaya's worldview of the need to keep evolving to escape the mundane, and it not mattering if you aim high or low. now at this point, izaya was solidly in some shady shit and clearly on the path of the low aim. but the thing is, about aspd... the boredom is all consuming. you'll do ANYTHING to not be bored. i've seen people say they developed substance abuse problems to escape the boredom, and i confess... i've done it too. it truly is THAT bad
i say all this because... izaya will never be able to stop going lower, and lower, and lower. he's fated to fall forever. maybe he wouldve been able to brush his behavior off as teenage craziness, but with a diagnosis like aspd it becomes increadingly obvious that there is no "oh, i'll mellow out once i reach my 20s." it's not going to happen, at least, not without great effort. and lets be real, nobody has any faith in aspd's recovery rates, less so in the early 2010s, so izaya upon diagnosis would see NO FUTURE for himself. no escape from the cycle. he's trapped.
the blue bits are a bit more vauge, but the undertainty turning to loss evokes the next stage after the initial shock of diagnosis: grief. and make no mistake, there IS a grieving process with mental health diagnoses. you go from being shocked and scared, to being depressed and numb.
but there's... another layer to this, with aspd. you see it with cluster b disorders in general, but aspd is HUGE in the pop culture zeitgeist
the layer is, the idea that People Like That don't feel emotions. that any emotional display is false and an explicit ploy to mainpulate someone
and when this inevitably ends up untrue, you might start to feel... odd... about feeling those emotions people say you can't feel. and one of the biggest emotions aspd gets that with, is fear and by extension, anxiety.
some aspd people genuinely do feel reduced fear! but it's far from being a diagnostic criteria, and aspd can actually be comorbid with anxiety disorders. but scientific facts and wider culture rarely match up, so the idea persists
so izaya might have started to think.... was he ever truly anxious? or worried? was he really more rotten than people thought; was he just mainpulating people the whole time? does he really not feel anxiety? was his nervousness over things like shinra leaving him or hell, this diagnosis, rendered null and void?
and then we reach the teal portion.... despair
(just a sidenote, tumblr has no teal color option so it'll just be blue)
in this sense, "the hole" refers to the endless downward spiral, and his diagnosis- but not just having it. no, "the hole" most likely refers to the moment izaya developed it in the first place.
who are you, if you thought you were in control your whole life, but you found out that the reason you do the things you do were because of foeces beyond your control? who are you now, having a label you know will cause everyone to see you as nothing but a stereotype?
why was he still alive, suffering like this? what point is it to be alive, controlled by something you can't fight, forced to make your life worse and worse and worse, until you die young?
so now what? who did this to him?
in the game, the hatred is towards "the player." and honestly this could have multiple different meanings when applied to izaya's own life
does he hate god? was he raised religious, his father being a christian, and was this what made him lose faith? what loving god would condemn someone to suffer like this?
does he hate his parents? after all, it was their genetics that passed this down, their upbringing that nurtured it, their neglect that made him the way he was. is it their fault?
or... does he hate himself, for being the way that he is? for having it in the first place, for not being able to overcome it, for having such a bad reaction to it?
for being too cowardly to kill himself?
which brings us to the final segment. awareness.
he says outright, the game is depicting the player's life. in the game itself, this ties into his mockery of players, but in a meta sense, it could be a hidden admission that it's depicting his life
especially the talk of meaningless games- fooling around with nakura creating small gangs, betting pools, and his eventual adult pastimes of messing with people. is his life enriched? no, it's merely occupied, and he knows it. he might have repressed it as an adult, but here, in high school, at this moment, he knows.
and if he can never truly alleviate his boredom, never truly be fufilled, then he can act like he's in control all he wants, but he's no better than a man falling in a hole.
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freedomfireflies · 10 months
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July Fic Recs 🤍
Rabbit Rabbit!! I hope June was a beautiful month for you all! Filled with love, relaxation, and really good stories!!
I feel like this is one of the best places to be on the internet because I always meet so many kind, talented, and insanely creative people! The stories I've gotten to disappear into this month are some of my favs so, without further ado...
~ Not Another Time by @be-with-me-so-happily
Summary: Harry is used to things getting crazy on tour. What he wasn't ready for is how much he misses YN during the Latin American leg of his tour. But at the Rio de Janeiro show, he needs to expect the unexpected.
The sequel to Could We Not, and a beautiful depiction of Harry's love and fear for somebody he loves! It felt so realistic, and I could actually feel Harry's stress while I read 😭💞
~ One More by @harry-on-broadway
"It never failed to surprise you just how well you fit in his arms."
This was so cute, I'm actually still crying??? A sweet blurb about the show before the last show. I wished on every star to be able to crawl into this story and live in it. Sadly, it hasn't worked yet.
~ Been There All Along by @lonelycowgirls
Summary: Where Stella goes to Harry’s last night at Madison Square Garden and gets a call that could change everything.
If really Harry isn't somewhat like this...I'm suing. Honestly
~ Zipper by @1d1195
"Harry was a smart guy, but he truly hadn’t a clue as to why he was so mad at the prospect of liking her."
The cutest, the most beautifully written, the sweetest story IN. THE. WORLD. The title alone deserves every award ever, but the connection to the plot??????? I'm still thinking about it
~ Love Don't Cost A Thing by @justmystyles
Such a beautiful concept!! I like conversations and stories like this because they really do feel so real! It helps really immerse you in the every day life of a relationship with him. And the line, "It's an us thing," LIVES IN MY HEAD RENT FREE!!!
~ Mutually Beneficial by @cherryjuiceblues
Summary: Y/N finds life difficult and Harry just wants to make her feel good.
I mean...we all just want a man that wants to make us feel good as much as this one does...AM I WRONG???
~ Guilty by @jarofstyles
Best Friend's Dad!
Everything they write is perfection and this sexy ass age gap story is no different, I am actually still sweating and convulsing I AM A SIMP
~ I Want Forever by @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite
Summary- Harry and Y/N broke up early into Love On Tour. Harry struggled to truly move on, as did Y/N. With tour over, a lost soul shows up at Y/N’s door one night, ready for forever.
Straight perfection, let's be real! A ring, the final show, AND AN ANGSTY, FLUFFY HARRY?? *chefs kiss*
~ Eros (Cupid) Harry by @0nlythrowharrybeaux
Harry is Eros and he is absolutely smitten with a human.
Listen, he absolutely would be this cute and you BEST BELIEVE I'm so down bad for this man...I literally foam at the mouth when I think about it, AND HE'S FUNNY?? Dead on sight
~ Personal by @shawnxstyles
summary: you and harry are best friends who tell each other everything. or so you thought. when harry finds out you’ve barely done anything sexual, he offers to change that. and then things get a little… personal.
Best friend Harry helping you out. Need I say more?? I NEEDN'T
~ Scared by @adorebeaa
You and Harry have your first argument right before his final show in Italy, about his final show in Italy.
THE CUTEST MOST DEVASTATING ADDITION TO THE FINAL SHOW!!! CRIED FOR HOURS
~ Y/N and Harry are expecting a baby, and they’re both very impatient by @tobesolonely
I mean...delicious honestly 😭 Just...wow
~ Sex Therapist by @tsumtsumrry
in which Harry helps you out a bit, and he’s not actually a sex therapist. (but he might as well be)
I am...scarily attracted to this man. And I am okay with that 😭💞
~ Brother's Best Friend by @helladirections
Summary: Harry is YN’s brother’s best friend and YN isn’t a little kid anymore. Featuring Italrry, teasing, and a sea view. 
He is....so hot. I genuinely have no other words to describe it honestly. It's...it's bad over here for me
~ Complicated Freak by @lukesaprince
Summary: Where you’ve been hooking up with your best friend’s dad and decide to tease him with a tiny bikini.
I think about this man once a week at least...okay fine, once a day. oKAY FINE I THINK ABOUT HIM ALL THE TIME and I'm okay with that
And a shout-out to @londonharry for providing us with all the gifs we've been needing to help us through our depression 🫶 You do the Lord's work, thank you!!
I hope you all find some amazing things to discover!! Cannot wait to see you again next month!! 💞
Previous Recs:
~ Fic Rec Number 1
~ Fic Rec Number 2
~ Fic Rec Number 3
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ccrites · 3 months
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i've been thinking of getting a tattoo for a long time, not only because i want to, but also to cover an old stick'n'poke i got when i was 15.
and so it got me thinking of the 141 tattoo artist!au. and oh boy.
Kyle would be an absolute sweetheart. not judging the stupid decisions a teenager made. more like "you wanted a tattoo and you went out of your way to get it, that's awesome. now how about we enhance it instead of covering it, whaddya think pretty girl?" and he'd draw around it, incorporate it into his art, go over the parts that are faded and uneven, then, when he's finished, wipe it gently and go "there, what should've been your first real tattoo" with his blinding smile and a promise to also be the one to do your next one
Johnny would be excited about finding creative ways to make parts of the stick'n'poke incorporate into other elements, make it so you'd never know it was there. but he's also a bit of a freak! making sort of mean comments about, "such a stupid decision, you were but a wee lass and ye didn't know what you wanted! thank god Johnny's here ta' fix ya'". It doesn't help that the tattoo you got was somewhere hidden, somewhere your parents wouldn't see on summer vacation (think where your underwear would cover it, or under your bra straps!) and he'd be such a creep! Sitting closer than absolutely necessary, looking at you too intensely. At the end, he'd suggest a truly hidden tattoo, "Only for me to see, bun, whaddya say?"
Ghost would be the type to frown behind the mask and look at you meanly, and you're afraid that he'd judge you for doing this kind of thing (you had your reasons, okay? some rough period in your life, you needed catharsis, and you were too young to get a real tattoo) and he'd be really condescending, all "there's a reasons youngins can't get them. Cuz' it's a stupid decision to make." and he'd huff and draw the most exquisite art you'd seen, all black, bold lines, and way, way bigger than necessary to cover the small tattoo. If the tattoo was on your hip, he'd extend it from your waist all the way down to your knee, make it flow with your curves, accentuate the stretch marks, and you can't say no because you absolutely adore the style. if the tattoo was on your ribs (bra straps, remember?" he'd extend it under your tits, bring it back over the clavicle, make it to be seen. and the pain. oh the pain. "you said you wanted catharsis, right?"
John would absolutely be on Ghost's side, with "there's a reason they don't let kids get tattoos" and you hear the underlying what a fucking mistake, and you see how he judges you... it makes you want to get it from him the most. Until you get to the consultation, and he tells you to get it lasered off first. But it's so faded, it should be easy to cover, no? you argue. he won't budge. So you get the expensive laser. it sorta hurts mentally, because you got it done with your best friend, and you always assumed you'd keep it there, underneath another layer of ink, where only you would remember it. It takes a few sessions, but then the skin is clean, a blank canvas for John to paint on. and paint he does. it's the most gorgeous piece you could ever imagine, you can see the inspiration Ghost draws from him, all bold shapes that flow into each other and compliment your body. Your skin is raw and pink when he's done, and you get up to admire the work... until you get a closer look in the mirror. you know exactly where the old tattoo would've been, and you'd expected to not be able to place it, under the new art. in its stead, two letters, black, bold, beautifully intertwined.... J.P. ... He'd put his lips next to your ear as you stand in shocked silence. "You're my canvas now."
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