#the problem is that she has the kind of perfectionism that stops her from doing things unless she can do them competently the first time | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

maximoffwitch · 10 months

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for the 1k celebration, could i please request from the smut list #126. "I'm sorry but, I don't think I can remain professional any longer." with natasha x fem(she/her) reader? 🥺

Keeping It Professional

pairing: natasha romanoff x reader

warnings: 18+ !!! heavy sexual content, swearing, strap-on use (r receiving), fingering, reader has a praise kink, oral, mature content overall!!

word count: 2.7k

a/n: wow okay so this is like the smuttiest thing i have ever written i honestly don't know what i'm doing so pls be kind 🫣 also pls ignore the fact that this request is over a year old and from a celebration i never finished 😭 and as a reminder: this blog is 18+ !! (because this comes up in the story CEO is Chief Executive Officer and CFO is Chief Financial Officer :))

“You wanted to see, Ms. Romanoff?” You entered the large corner office, gently closing the door behind you.

“Yes, (Y/N),” the redhead didn’t even look up at you, her eyes still glued to whatever important documents she was reviewing. Natasha Romanoff was one of the most powerful CEOs in the city, if not the world, starting her own consulting firm at just 23. By the time she was twenty-eight, Widow Enterprises was the most successful firm in the entire country, making Natasha the first female executive and the youngest to lead an industry.

Oh, and she was also your boss. Working as Natasha Romanoff’s personal assistant was often a thankless job. The long hours and tedious tasks left little room for a social life, and your boss’s stoic perfectionism did little to ease your days.

“Please sit.” Natasha motioned to the two chairs in front of her desk, finally looking up and setting down her pen.

You obliged, taking a seat across from her.

“Do you know why I called you into my office, (Y/N)?” The redhead leaned back into her chair, as she carefully observed you.

You frowned, quickly racking your brain for any reason why your boss could want to talk to you so out of the blue and, apparently, in such a serious manner.

“Did you want to discuss the upcoming board meeting?” You subconsciously crossed your legs and adjusted your slacks, a nervous habit you picked up in said board meetings—being one of two women in a room of men is nerve-racking, to say the least. “I prepared all the notes and slide decks, but did you want me to forward them to you to review?”

Natasha had stopped double-checking your work about six months into your tenure there, as you had proven yourself more than competent. But you would understand her hesitancy, seeing as this meeting was with corporate executives who, if you had to guess, possessed the majority of the world’s wealth.

“No, no,” Natasha nonchalantly waved her hand, “I trust you have that all under control.”

You let out a small sigh of relief before knitting your brows. “I’m sorry, Ms. Romanoff, but then I can’t say I know why I am here.”

Natasha hummed as she stood up from the chair and made her way around the desk.

“I have a problem,” she revealed, as she sat on the edge of the desk and crossed her arms before lowering her voice, “with you.”

You nearly choked on your breath, your own anxiety choking you.

Seeing you were at a loss for words, Natasha continued, “Now don’t get me wrong, your work speaks for itself. I have no issues with the way you do your job. In fact, you are the best personal assistant I have ever had.”

Your eyes widened at Natasha’s rare compliment.

“Then what,” you cleared your throat in an attempt to rid the nerves from your voice, “what is the issue?”

“The issue is.” Natasha pushed herself off the desk and circled you as if you were her prey. When she hovered behind you, she bent down and whispered, “I don’t think I can remain professional any longer.”

You remained frozen, clenching your thighs together, as the feeling of your boss’s warm breath against your ear caused a tightness to coil in your lower abdomen.

Natasha smirked at your body’s reaction, before gently running her fingertips across your collarbone, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their path.

“Tell me you don’t want this.” She brushed a loose strand of hair from your neck, exposing more of your skin. “Tell me, and I’ll stop.”

You should yell that this was outrageously inappropriate, that you really shouldn’t be doing this in the middle of the work day, that this violated every single one of HR’s rules.

But you didn’t; you couldn’t. As much as you tried to convince yourself otherwise, you wanted her.

Craning your neck, you turned your head to meet Natasha’s salacious gaze and nodded.

Natasha raised her brow, amused. “Use your words, doll.”

“I want you,” you husked.

“Oh, I know you do.” She gave you a smug grin, firmly cupping your chin while running her thumb over your bottom lip. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you stare at me during meetings or the way you flaunt yourself around my office in those tight pant suits.

“Are you that desperate for attention, little one?”

“Only yours,” you panted, need bleeding through your voice.

“Good.” Natasha clicked her tongue, pleased by your answer, before guiding you to stand. “Now turn around.”

You obeyed and turned your back to her, gasping when Natasha gripped your hips and pushed you against the desk, her front pressed against you.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” she growled as she pulled your hair, causing you to arch against her.

“Every time I see you and your wide doe eyes, so eager to please, so eager to be fucked,” Natasha nipped your neck, and you couldn’t stop the moan that escaped your mouth. At that moment, the redhead could not be more grateful for the soundproof walls of her office, “I want to bend you over my desk and give you what you want.”

"Yes, please,” you groaned, grinding your hips against her front, liquid arousal pooling in your stomach as you felt a bulge in Natasha’s slacks.

“Please what?” She kissed the corner of your mouth, as she nimbly worked her fingers to unbutton your pants, slowly sliding the waistband down.

“Fuck me,” you begged, “please.”

“So needy,” Natasha shoved her hand down the front of your black-laced panties, where she was instantly met with a desperate wetness.

“You are so wet, princess,” she teased, her fingers circling your clit slowly, “and I’ve barely even touched you.”

Before you could plead for more, Natasha plunged two digits into your heat, stifling your moan with a searing kiss.

Your tongues languidly danced together, fighting for dominance. Natasha quickly won that battle, simultaneously biting your bottom lip and curling her fingers deeper into your core.

“God, fuck,” you moaned as she pushed you down onto the desk so you were completely bent over at her will, your pants pooling at your ankles.

“Natasha is fine.” You could practically hear her smirk, but you were too far gone to say anything. All you could do was clench your walls around her fingers, silently asking for more.

Natasha added another finger as the heel of her palm rubbed your clit. You could feel yourself approaching the edge, and you didn’t know how much longer you could hold on.

“Be a good girl.” She leaned down and kissed the shell of your ear. “And come for me.”

“Natasha!” you cried out as you let the waves of pleasure crash over your body. Natasha kept her fingers in you, slowly pumping them in and out, as she gradually brought you down from your high.

As she finally slipped out of you, you whined at the loss. Natasha wrapped her arm around your chest, pulling you up and back against her.

“Taste.” She stuck her glistening fingers before your mouth, and you obeyed. Wrapping your lips around her digits, you stared directly into her eyes and swirled your tongue to taste your own pleasure.

Natasha’s eyes darkened at the action as you released her fingers from your mouth with a pop.

“You’re such an obedient assistant, aren’t you?” Natasha hummed, tucking a loose hair behind your ear. “I bet you’d do anything I asked, hm?”

“Yes,” you breathed, your shame long gone, as you submitted yourself completely to the other woman.

“Good.” She kissed the corner of your mouth before taking your hand in hers. “Now, come suck my strap.”

You stepped out of your pants, goosebumps rising up your legs as you were left only in your underwear and half-buttoned silk blouse.

As Natasha sat down in her chair, she pulled her own slacks down her thighs, revealing a decently sized strap-on, and your mouth watered at the sight. You lustfully eyed Natasha, who scooted her hips to the edge of the seat.

“Get on your knees for me, pretty girl,” the redhead directed as she worked to unbutton her shirt.

You sank to your knees in between Natasha’s legs, ignoring the harsh vinyl floor beneath you. Softly rubbing your hands up her thighs, you stared up at her and took the tip of the plastic cock in your mouth.

Natasha watched you with an intense gaze, her eyes unable to leave the sight of her strap-on slowly disappearing deep into your throat. As you bobbed your head up and down, coating the dildo with spit, Natasha groaned, throwing her head back.

“You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” She took a fistful of your hair in her hand, controlling your pace. “I bet your pussy is just aching to be filled by my strap.”

You wantonly moaned and increased the pace of your movements, causing Natasha to hiss, as the strap-on rubbed against her clit.

Natasha tightened her grasp on your hair and tugged at your scalp, sending a shock of pleasure through your body at the brief moment of pain.

“Are you gonna let me fuck your mouth, princess?” She looked down at you, waiting for your eyes to meet hers. Nodding slightly, you widened your mouth and relaxed your throat.

“Good girl,” Natasha cooed, as she brought her other hand to gently caress your cheek before firmly taking hold of the back of your head.

Natasha bucked her hips, hungrily chasing her own release. The squelching sound of the dildo plunging into your throat echoed around the office, as your eyes began to water.

“So good,” Natasha threw her head back, still rutting into your mouth. “So close.”

Feeling herself right at the peak, she thrust her hips up and pushed your head down, causing you to choke and lose your breath momentarily.

“Fuck!” she cried, her body stilling as her orgasm washed over her. Gasping, you released the strap from your mouth. You looked up at Natasha, who was also catching her breath.

“Come here.” Natasha softly hooked her finger under you chin. You stood from your kneeling position and moved in between her legs, leaning forward to meet her awaiting lips.

This time, Natasha kissed you with less urgency and more passion, as if she had all the time in the world.

“You did so well, milaya,” she cooed, the praise along with the Russian term causing your walls to clench around nothing. Natasha grinned, as she saw your thighs involuntarily clench together. “You want to ride me?”

Though she posed it as a question, you could tell there was little room for debate.

Nodding, you bit your lip and shrugged your shirt off your shoulders. You kept eye contact with Natasha as you slowly shimmied out of your ruined underwear.

The redhead followed your every move with blatant desire, gulping when she watched a string of wetness cling to the fabric as it fell down your legs.

Bracing yourself on the back of the chair, you straddled Natasha’s lap, hovering over the dildo.

“You are so perfect.” She kissed your exposed cleavage, biting your skin before soothing it with her tongue. “So perfect and so ready to be fucked.”

“Yes, Natasha,” you rested your forehead against hers as she teased your entrance with the strap-on, “please fuck me, take me, make me yours.”

“You’re mine,” Natasha growled, pulling your bottom lip between her teeth as she pushed the tip into your heat.

“Yours,” you sank down, the toy stretching your walls perfectly, and the two of you moaned in unison. Neither of you moved, allowing you to adjust to the size.

Slowly, you started to move, pulling another cacophony of sounds from the woman beneath you.

“Faster, (Y/N),” Natasha gritted through her teeth as she gripped your hips. “Ride my cock.”

You followed her commands and bounced up and down on her strap. Natasha eagerly bucked her hips up, matching your rhythm.

“Fuck, Nat,” your eyes rolled to the back of your head, as Natasha reached around you to unclasp your bra, allowing your breasts to bounce freely.

“That’s right.” She pinched your nipples between her fingers, causing you to let out to a guttural moan. “You’re such a good girl, riding me like the slut you are.”

“Nat,” you pleaded, feeling the coil tightening in your abdomen.

“Are you close, princess?”

You nodded with a whimper, grinding your hips down onto Natasha’s.

“Chase your pleasure,” she whispered, as she brought your forehead to meet hers.

You stared deeply into her eyes as you relentlessly rode the toy.

“I’m gonna come, Natasha,” you gasped, your breath hot against her lips.

“Not yet, darling,” she commanded, causing you to pout. Natasha slipped her hand between your bodies, her fingers ghosting over your clit. “I want us to come together.”

You let out a whine, your pace even more frantic than before, as Natasha began to rub tight circles against your bud.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” she grunted, her thrusts becoming sloppy. Pinching your clit, Natasha surged forward to kiss you, before mumbling against your lips, “Come with me, my good girl.”

You both cried out, pleasure overtaking your bodies at the same time. Melting into her embrace, you rested your head against her shoulder. The two of you basked in the post-coital silence, the toy still buried deep inside of you.

Remembering where you were, you lifted your head and tenderly smoothed Natasha’s disheveled hair.

“How was that?” You gave her an amused smirk.

“Perfect.” She grinned blissfully. “You were absolutely perfect.”

“Better than you imagined?"

“So much better, my love.” Natasha gently kissed you, her way of thanking you for fulfilling her fantasy. Though she knew you got just as much pleasure out of it as she did.

“Good,” you separated, pecking her lips once more before demounting from her lap.

“Where are you going?” she whined, removing the harness and tossing it aside as she watched you gather your clothes.

“James’s soccer practice is ending in twenty minutes, and I told him I would pick him up.” You fastened the buttons on your blouse before walking around the desk to where your pants were.

“Don’t we have a sitter for that?” Natasha joked, though you could tell she was still disappointed by your departure.

“We do.” You used the desk to balance yourself, as you slipped on your heels. “But I gave Kate the day off because I promised James I’d pick him up.”

“Fine,” Natasha stood up, pulling her own pants back up and buttoning up her shirt as she walked over to wrap her arms around your waist, “but I had other plans for us.”

You rolled your eyes fondly, straightening out her collar. “I was serious earlier about sending that slide deck over to you to review, if you want.”

“And I was also being serious earlier,” Natasha shot you a knowing wink, “I trust you have that all under control.”

“Good, because I do,” you smirked confidently.

“Best. CFO. Ever.” She emphasized each word with a kiss.

You preened at the praise, a slight blush tainting your cheeks. “Well, now I have to go be the best mom ever. Seriously, love, I have to go.”

“Alright,” Natasha relented, letting her hands fall from your hips.

“Don’t worry, we’ll finish what we started later,” you whispered, pecking the corner of her lips, as you slipped something in Natasha’s breast pocket. “I’ll see you at home, love.”

“Counting on it.”

You lightly patted her chest and winked, before making your way out of the office, making sure to close the door behind you.

After you left, Natasha cleaned up, ridding any evidence of your activities and reorganizing her desk. As she prepares to resume her work, powering on her desktop, Natasha feels something in her breast pocket.

Reaching into her pocket to retrieve whatever you put there earlier, she grinned at what she pulled out.

“Little minx,” Natasha chuckled, fiddling with your lacy black thong in her hand before tucking it back in her pocket.

Best. Wife. Ever.

#my writing #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff smut

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thenextcelestialchapter · 1 year

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An Idea for Croods 3??

Even though they’re probably already working on it lol.

So I find myself thinking about that concept art for Croods 2 and the scrapped characters. I’ve thought since the beginning that I wished something could have been done with the designs. I’ve been mulling an idea about it tonight for some reason so here goes:

Croods and Croods 2 were funny as heck and if they made a third film of course the focus would still need to be on comedy. However! I feel like if the Croods 3 were to end the whole shebang, and it probably should, then it should be the most daring of the Croods movies, with the most to say and, well, just “goes there”.

The first Croods movie actually briefly touched upon a few of these kinds of issues but I think they need to really tackle them head on in a final film. What am I talking about some of you might wonder? Abuse. Of course though none of our main players would commit such acts, so we need a new family with these problems. And I think I know just the one!

Croods is in need of a proper, hate-able villain... And I think this guy should be him.

They probably originally designed him as more the bumbling/overbearing but ultimately loving/caring and well-meaning type dad like Grug is supposed to be. However, since Grug already fills that role, I think this guy would be better suited as a villain/the dark combination of Grug’s strength and Phil’s intelligence and need for perfectionism. Like he might get along with both dads at first bc he has things in common with both, but eventually he gives off the vibes as being the kind of guy who expects what he thinks of to be as perfection/idealism, or else. His own general appearance gives off this vibe, but then you look at the art of his potential wife...

This woman... Bugs me so dang much. XD;;; Like the art itself is cute, she looks fun and fun to draw, but she looks so disgustingly perfect for a cavewoman, and she especially looks out of place as a Croods cavewoman. But I think that could be what possibly elevates this character and makes it make sense. Maybe there’s a reason she looks and acts so unnaturally “perfect”. Maybe it’s bc it’s what her husband demands of her, and her perfection reflects her fear of her imperfections ever being seen...

After all, the caveman stereotype we tend to think of is a much more violent type of man. Grug himself taps into this violence when he thinks he needs to protect his family, but I just can’t stop thinking about that “joke” Gran made about her father essentially tearing her apart from her true love and actually SELLING her to another mate. THAT’S FKIN CANON LIKE DAMN. So why not have at least one villainous caveman type character? Why not have one jerk who is willing to pull his wife by the hair and order her around who the others eventually have to square up against as a true family?

Also I feel like this girl...

And this one were probably meant to be sisters, maybe...? They look too unlike each other to be the same character I think, but I also think that’s what they should do with her. Like the first image is who she is forced to be at first by her dad, making her into a mini version of her mother who he also molds through intimidation. But the second image could be closer to what she really wants to look like/looks like by the end. Cavegirl BFFs are great but what about a whole Cavegirl Posse, dude!

Also speaking of Gran, if this third story were to focus more on issues like these, I feel like it would only be fair to go back to Gran’s issues too. But that doesn’t mean we can’t still have just a lil fun with it lol...

Like I’m thinking it would be hilarious if Gran just casually mentions something horrifying happening to her in her youth like she did that one time at the dinner table, and she’s laughing it off at first, but then Hope/Dawn or Eep/Thunk or someone casually remarks to her, “Wow Gran, that actually sounds really awful! If that happened to me I’d probably be traumatized for life!”

At which point it slowly dawns on Gran how messed up it actually was. She slowly starts to sob. It gets SUPER massively uncomfortably awkward while she’s crying, all the other characters look really unsure what do to at first... Finally, one of them reaches over and gives Gran one or two quick pats on the back, and she immediately stops sobbing and exclaims in her normal voice, “ALRIGHT, I’M OVER THAT! I’M TOO OLD TO BE TRAUMATIZED! GIMME MORE FOOD!” XD

#croods #croods 2 #croods a new age #the croods #croods 3

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free--therapy · 10 months

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hii it's anon!

the post you shared about "moral perfectionism" was so relatable. i was never like that and used to be okay with things i did or mistakes I made even if they were "morally wrong"

but then, anxiety hit and two years ago, i read some things which made me think "wow some people on the internet are so nice" which in turn, started making me think how not nice or bad of a person I was.

which was why I started worrying about any mistake I'd made especially those which resulted in other people getting affected just because i wanted something. even things that weren't necessarily mistakes, i would overthink and they would start seeming that way.

but eventually, i started telling myself even if these mistakes seemed like only i did things like that, the fact is I was still a child or a teen. around that age, everyone does things like that. even adults do things like that. i realised that if it's something recent or something I can fix, maybe then I can try.

But for older mistakes that have gone by, if everyone else has probably forgotten about it or if they wouldn't even care about it now or maybe they didn't know I did something but now after so long, wouldn't care anyway. Then, i don't need to think about those either. I can let it go or forget about it or stop thinking about it. Freeing myself from the guilt and moving on wouldn't make me a bad person, it would make me a human like anyone else.

Also, recently I've been sending you wayy too many questions I'm really sorry about it. If I'm bothering you, please let me know.

It's just that a part of me just can't come to terms with the fact that roughly just a week ago or so, i was doing completely fine without any problems or overthinking. But now, just a week later, I've been spending most of my time inside my head. Of course, I've been rationalising too but that takes up a good amount of time too. And at the end of the day, i realise that i didn't do much today except spending time thinking or rationalising....just in my head.

It's a bit disheartening especially when i think i was okay with everything just a while ago and doing so good but suddenly it's like this. And it's even more disheartening when i think how everyone around me doesn't have to deal with this. They all seem to properly be in the present and even their worries seem to be about their present issues whereas there's me worrying about something that doesn't even matter. Sometimes i just wanna cry about this you know? It's okay most times but suddenly some days it seems so not fair.

On top of that, i haven't been able to share any of this with my sister either. I used to at least share what i could back then, but this time, i have not because she has her own big issues to deal with. So it feels very lonely and frankly, i hate feeling this way. I hope for things to get better soon for me and that I'll be able to leave this behind and move on.

I'm sorry for saying random things and for depending on you so much recently. I'm always grateful for all your help 💗

You're welcome, Anon. I'm glad you found that post helpful!

Hey, it's okay. I understand what it's like to have all these worrying thoughts and needing someone to just make you feel like you're not insane, but also needing the help to make sure they don't consume you.

You need to be more patient and kind to yourself. Don't beat yourself up because it feels like you might be going backwards. You're in a much better spot than you were a few months ago and you should be proud of yourself and how far you've come. Don't let a bad week or a bad day discourage you from continuing on in your journey. You're not perfect and that's okay because no one is!

#ask #answered #anon #anxiety #perfectionism #healing #anxious thoughts

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500wordsormore · 1 year

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Dear Tumblr Diary, how do I tell my family I don't want to be near them anymore?

Ok I procrastinated posting for a while, and now I'm finally giving in. I'd wanted to ~*cultivate a theme and aesthetic*~ and practice writing on big important topics that I cared about. Thanks to my chronic perfectionism, that didn't happen so now it's my garbage can where I can infodump and move on with my life because god DAMN, I need to get this off my chest. If I can't get my own family issues off my chest how am I ever going to get my nuanced takes on race and religion out? It's probably best if I shoot myself in the foot by oversharing my own personal flaws straightaway rather than not planning on doing it at all?

The Apple Watch was designed with the intention of removing the water that would get inside of it, not preventing water from ever entering. That's not any kind of reverence or praise for a brand or product, btw, it's just a good example of practical planning.

So, I'd like to whine about my family for a little while.

They fucking suuuuuuck-ughh they're the most annoying passive-aggressive ingrates in my life and I don't want to visit them. Our dynamic is, in fairness, complex, but it is not complicated, as it were. There's a lot of history to be sure, but the thing is that none of it is particularly challenging or unique. By their own insistence, we are all perfectly mundane "normal" people. To be clear, we are not. Chronic illness of body and mind runs on both sides, and I'm 50:50 mixed so there is definitely some real baggage to unpack, but again, none of it is beyond the grasp of allegedly rational adults.

The problem, is that the key to the metaphorical baggage's lock, is their terminal martyr complexes and passive aggression. And I mean terminal when I say/write it. My grandparents have been unwell for a while, and over the last winter holiday season it was revealed to me just how bad it's become.

My grandmother has lived her whole life with the "classic" anxiety/depression combo you naturally get from being raised in the worst time for women with chronic illnesses. Her suicidal ideations have been roundly dismissed by my entire family because "she's always been like that", and that has always made me nauseous. Over Christmas dinner my aunt and uncle so casually discussed how she has stopped taking her daily medication that she needs to survive, and has been flowing in and out of the hospital almost monthly, and I finally lost it.

I shouted and cried and jabbed my finger at them and told them I was sickened by their behavior. I lamented them, and my mother. I bitterly insisted that they had raised me better than this, that we, their children, would never stand for this treatment to befall them. And as I looked around at their blithely patient faces I choked and realized that nothing I said registered to them. They blinked placidly and smiled and tried to gently explain to me why their negligence was excusably normal my own hearing clouded.

Ever since then A darkness has grown in me. I have hated myself for hating myself for hating myself for not being able to admit this, but it must be said: I don't want to be near them anymore. I still love them, in a kind of biologically obligatory way, but I can't stand their presence. I want none of my time to be shared with their wastes of breath. I am openly neurodivergent in most spaces, but not in my own family's home. It's taken time for me to realize and accept, but I now understand that this is indicative of a bigger problem.

My family members are the kind of performative "normals" that reek of abnormality and denial. Their pathological devotion to the mainstream is the only visible passion they ever display, and its fierceness rivals that of my own hyperfixations. They want to pretend that they're pretending that "ThEre'S nOtHiNG wRonG WitH bEInG Different(tm)" when in reality they are the different ones. They're fucking kooks, weirdos raised by religious zealots who had a late start on real life. My white mom has two brown daughters, that look nothing like her. "Normal" was never an option.

I've been manically giggling all week in anticipation of Easter dinner, mocking their solipsistic tone in a nasal whine: "oh nooooo! We don't know how to use our words and now our parents are slowly dying in front of our eyes and there's nothing to be done for it! If only we had learned the English words for emotions then maybe we could have communicated them." and I think to myself: "gods, what is wrong with me?"

My plan is to openly use my vape at this even. I can either mask my neurodivergence or my THC use, but not both anymore. i don't even know if this is 500 words. Wish me luck.

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wherethewoofwoofsgo · 1 year

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Febuwhump Day Three : Muzzled

We are letting go of the perfectionism on this one. Letting it go.

I'm not really the kind of guy into physical kind of shit so this is a more... metaphorical muzzling?

Disobedience can only be allowed to go so far without punishment

1k words

CWs in the tags

Justice throws the scissors down hard enough the bounce against the table, skidding so far they nearly fall off. It’s enough to make Honesty flinch, the minuteness of the thing a matter of practice and nothing else. His heart quickens as he stares at them, then up at Justice, his cousin Attention, and finally their head matriarch Reliance.

Each of them watches him, and the anger radiating off Justice and Attention, while expected, leaves his fingers tremoring. As bad as that is, Reliance is worse. She has the flat, smooth demeanor of an undisturbed pool of water, the kind of look that obscures everything and sends his heart ratcheting higher.

“You’re joking.”

“You’re doing it yourself,” his aunt says.

Attention is quick to cut in. “The first round, at least. Head Matriarch will clean up the mess when you’re done.”

Her words hang between them as he purses his lips, eyes dropping to the scissors. When he was young and Attention and Justice were still fresh to their roles, Attention had been softer. The women might have preferred the term weak, but for a time, him and Obedience had actually had someone to trust with their problems. He can’t remember when that had changed.

This is going to ruin him and they know it.

His hair hangs heavy against his back, a weight he’s only aware of now that he stands to lose it. He’s lucky it’s as long as it is in the first place. He’d had to beg and bug and try and swallow his tongue, every failure to maintain silence in place of blunt truth a setback—And the Goddess knew his life was full of setbacks. Even without this measure, Obedience’s is already longer. He’s the better son, though he wouldn’t be, if they knew about the lies and secret friends and seditious meetings, but even now Honesty would rather be saturated with lies before than tell.

They don’t need to be doing this. He glares at the scissors, dented and aged enough he can feel his aching scalp before he’s even put them to his head. His matriarchs certainly think they do—Any self-respecting matriarch would. There’s a reason, after all, he’s been so careful with his poems, careful to eventually whisper each one to dust. Even if the anger and confusion wrestled into each one didn’t seem to do much more than amuse the Goddess, it was more than enough for punishment. And Sense had come into their room—Without knocking, as was becoming her habit—and his sister had seen and shown Attention. He tells himself he isn’t angry with her, ignores the bubbling inside him.

But the Goddess doesn’t care. She knows, and she doesn’t care. It would be easy to tell, but there’s the kind of discord one sows in the family and the kind one doesn’t, and this is clearly the second.

He hasn’t moved towards the scissors. If someone made him, he’d be forced to admit his matriarchs have been more understanding about it than the situation calls for.

But eventually, Attention speaks, voice strained from the effort of having to play her turn at even-mannered. He remembers when that used to be the one she naturally fell into, the one that left her able to recognize when Honesty was correct and not his girlcousins, and he aches. “Honesty. You’re going to earn yourself a day.”

Even before she makes the threat he knows what it’s going to be. But despite the way it makes his heart pound faster, his mouth drying up, he looks up at her, goading and silent.

He knows it will not make things better, will in fact only make things worse, won’t save his hair or his reputation, won’t stop Conscience’s matriarch from finally ruling him a bad influence and breaking their match. It will do nothing to influence the Goddess’s opinion, not even negatively. As always, his heart betrays him at the thought of her and races faster.

In that room, it will just be him and the dark and the walls, dread carved into them and sinking into his skin. Already, he spends more days than he should in there, from moments without warnings like this or words he’d have done well to consider a moment longer. Even the notice is a kindness. It leaves him burning.

“We can make it three,” Justice says. “You’re already pushing your way towards two.”

A day in that room is a day with no one to watch, truly watch, Obedience. No one to keep an eye on when he grows listless, or when he disappears by himself…

His body burns as he forces his hand around the cool metal, struggling to grasp it properly. He doesn’t look at them as he tries to maneuver the scissors, pulling his braid tight, hand a fist around it. They have him scoot the scissors higher, then higher still.

At the very least, he’ll have to explain this to Obedience and Dignity and whatever matches will still have him. He picks through his words as he fights with the blades, sawing through his hair. An overreaction, though they disagree. It’s the truth as he sees it. His hair tugs back painfully with each snip, left dangling by fiewer and fewer strands with each snip. He doesn’t shake, even as the nausea grips him fully.

Eventually, he’s left with his braid in his hand and he drops it like it’s burnt him. It makes a heavier thud than he’d expected as it hits the ground. For a moment, all he does is stare at the table and try not to be sick.

Then Reliance holds out a hand, ushering the other two matriarchs from the room, and he gives her the scissors. His stomach threatens upheaval as she moves behind him, but she’s silent as she fixes yet another of his messes. She doesn’t even give him a proper scorning.

Eventually, she leans past him, placing the scissors on the table. She pauses there, her wrinkled skin not quite touching him, and he thinks she might hit him, but all she says is, “You have no idea how disappointed I am in you.”

She leaves and, a minute later, Justice returns.

He doesn’t write again for nearly a decade.

#febuwhump2023 #febuwhumpday3 #cw abuse #writing on tumblr #fiction #original fiction #wtwwg ; honesty

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slightlyrebelliouswriter23 · 3 years

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hey so i'm hoping to get some writing advice about creative burnout? like i seem to write in fits and spurts. some months i can churn out a oneshot or chapter everyday and some months i can do one (1) creative thing only. so i'm wondering how to prevent creative burnout and how to just create more smoothly <3 thank you!

Creative Burnout & How To Ward Against It

First, I’d like to preface this all by saying you’re definitely not alone. You probably already know this, but sometimes it’s nice to be reminded.

I know from personal experience that creative burnout can leave you feeling hopeless, detached from yourself—the kind of identity crisis no one needs in 2020.

So buckle in, folks. It’s a dosy.

I. The Symptoms

Not to be the local WebMD page here, but signs of burnout can include:

Procrastination (more than usual)

Dreading writing and feeling stuck or overly perfectionistic when you try

Physical tiredness and/or irritability

Feeling like everything is monotonous

It’s more than just writer’s block. It’s a physical and emotional exhaustion response to something that goes deeper than a simple lack of inspiration. In my experience, and from a bit of research, I’ve found that what your brain is really looking for is dopamine.

Dopamine is essentially your brain’s chemical reward system for doing something interesting or exciting to you. As someone who is diagnosed with ADHD, I have chronically low levels of dopamine, so this is a constant struggle for me—but it is absolutely made worse by creative burnout.

II. The Problem

Studies have shown that the more we do A Thing the less that thing will give us dopamine (unless a component of the activity changes regularly). This is because eventually our brains desensitise to the stimuli provided by the activity, and subsequently, we become disengaged.

But it’s not necessarily The Thing (i.e. writing) that becomes boring. Actually, more than a few factors could be at play here, and the first step to finding a solution is to identify the problem.

1. ENVIRONMENT LACKS EXCITEMENT/CHANGE—

Sometimes, the monotony of everyday life can feed creative burnout. This becomes especially applicable in quarantine when you’re not leaving your house.

What we don’t realise is that even something as small as the variables of driving to and from work, or interacting with passing coworkers, gives us dopamine. So if you have the same routine every day that does not involve any added variables, your brain will begin staunching that dopamine supply.

2. EITHER TOO EASY OR TOO CHALLENGING—

In 1975, Hungarian-American psychologist, Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, coined the term “flow”, which refers to a heightened state of creativity and concentration on an activity. Csikszentmihalyi posited that if your skill level is equal to the level of challenge in any given activity, you will experience this state of flow.

The chart below is taken from Csikszentmihalyi’s own study on the subject of flow and motivation. It examines “your skill level” on the x axis in relation to the “challenge level” on the y axis.

Essentially:

Too much challenge + not enough skill = anxiety, worry (which might lead to procrastination and perfectionism)

Too much skill + not enough challenge = boredom, apathy (which might lead to monotony, irritability, and other depression-like symptoms)

Skill level = Challenge level = Flow

3. NOT ENOUGH “ACTIVE” STIMULATION—

When it comes to dopamine seeking, there is a distinct difference between active and passive stimulation in the brain.

Active stimulation is any form of activity that you have to actively engage in. For instance; exercising, doing a crossword puzzle, or reading a book. These kinds of activities not only give you dopamine, they also facilitate critical thinking and problem solving thought processes, which act as catalysts for creativity.

Passive stimulation, on the other hand, comes in the form of television, social media, and YouTube. It’s anything you can consume without having to actively engage. Passive stimulation will indeed give your brain dopamine, however, it won’t activate your creativity.

The problem also lies in the speed at which you receive the dopamine from passive activities. Passive stimulation is so easy to access that the more you consume, the harder it becomes to pick up active stimulation. Your brain expects a hit of dopamine just by picking up a phone or turning on the TV—it becomes addicted to the quick fix of a Netflix binge.

III. The Solutions

Based on the problems mentioned above, I am going to list a few solutions. Keeping in mind that not every solution will work for everyone, these can act as both preventative measures and remedies for someone who is currently burned out.

1. CHANGE UP YOUR ENVIRONMENT/ROUTINE—

Aim to do at least one thing per day that will add “variables” to the monotony. This can be as simple as going on a long walk, dressing up in that bold outfit you always wanted to wear to the office but never did, or sitting at a different workspace in your home.

Anything you can do that’s simple, but might provide an extra variable to your day to spice things up. Note: this shouldn’t be the same thing every day.

2. CHALLENGE YOURSELF MORE—

If you find yourself bored by your work, try challenging yourself more. This could mean setting goals for yourself that go a bit beyond what you’ve been doing.

For example, if you’ve been writing 500 words per day, see if you can beat your own word count every day for the next week. If you’ve been writing mainly fluff pieces, switch it up and do an angst piece. See if you can write a book in a month, or start a blog where you don’t write fiction at all!

Anything you can do to add a little kick to your workload. Note: Beware of challenging yourself too much! This can lead straight back into burnout.

3. CHALLENGE YOURSELF LESS—

If you’re on the flip side of that coin, and find that you are anxious, procrastinating, and perfectionistic when it comes to writing, fret not. Just because you’re experiencing any of these things, doesn’t mean you’re incapable of doing the job with your skillset.

It just means your perception of the job needs to be shifted.

Procrastination, at its heart, is a fear of failure, which results in actively avoiding the negative emotions associated with the task that causes this fear. Perfectionism is a type of procrastination that is a combination of a fear of failure and a fear of success (or, more accurately, other’s critiques of your success) all at once.

Neither have anything to do with your actual skillset, but they have everything to do with your perception of your skillset. Obviously, this is a harder thing to fix, as it has to do with deeply ingrained levels of self-esteem.

What I can offer you is a tactic to trick your mind into thinking you’re capable.

If you have a task, big or small, and you are feeling overwhelmed by it (like you might go curl up in bed and scroll Tumblr), immediately break that task up into smaller tasks. Keep breaking up the smaller tasks until you have the smallest possible part of the bigger task without doing nothing.

Then do that smallest possible thing.

If your goal is to write a 2000 word one shot, a small part of that task is writing half of it. An even smaller part of that task is breaking the one shot up into “scenes” and writing one scene. For instance:

Jude wakes up to a sore throat, a runny nose, and a fever.

She tries to go to work, but Cardan, being the mother hen that he is, threatens to never make her another grilled cheese sandwich (her favourite food) ever again if she doesn’t stay home.

Jude agrees begrudgingly, and Cardan sits her down in front of the TV with a bottle of Gatorade. He leaves to go get medicine from the store.

When Cardan comes back, Jude is worse than before. He makes her soup and saltine crackers and spoon feeds her.

She complains the whole time and, in her feverish state, threatens to never buy him another bottle of wine (his favourite food) ever again if he doesn’t let her feed herself.

Each bullet point represents one “scene” of about 200-400 words each. Obviously, there will be more details that you work out as you write. But with these five smaller scenes, your goal is no longer writing the 2000 word one shot. Your goal is writing the first of the five scenes.

If you complete the smallest possible task, you can stop, and you’ll still feel like you’ve accomplished something because you can cross off that task from your list. But chances are, by the time you cross off one task, you may have inspiration enough to keep going.

4. ENGAGE IN ACTIVE STIMULATION—

Since active stimulation has been proven to turn on the creative “tap”, try incorporating more of these activities into your daily routine:

Exercise: As the resident couch potato, I hate to say that exercising is good for creativity, but it is. Even if it’s just going on a short walk, so long as you’re moving.

Reading: Sometimes you have plenty of ideas, but no words to fit those ideas. Fill your well of words by carving out an hour or two each day for reading a good book.

The Creative Process: In the writing world, the creative process is a process of about 20-30 minutes that the writer partakes in every day before they start writing. This process should be creative, but also have nothing to do with writing. You can try colouring in a colouring book, painting, organising a page in your bullet journal. Anything that is creative but does not make you think about everything you have to do that day. Think of it as creative meditation.

Listen to music: Having APD, I personally can’t listen to music while I write. However, studies have shown that if you listen to at least ten songs per day, it will significantly benefit your dopamine levels and overall mood. If you’re like me and prefer to work in silence, maybe stick on a couple songs during your creative process. If you can manage music and writing together, get out those headphones!

5. KEEP A REGULAR SCHEDULE—

I know this is the most cliche point in the book, but it’s valid. This doesn’t mean do the same thing at the same time every day over and over, because ultimately we’re looking to avoid monotony.

But having pillars of structure to bolster the excitement can definitely work to keep you from slipping into burnout. Going to sleep, waking up, and having your meals at relatively the same time every day are good examples of this.

Feel free to change up the things you do between breakfast and lunch, but make sure you have those pillars of consistency so your brain knows that a break is on the horizon and doesn’t get tired.

6. PACE YOURSELF—

This is particularly difficult for those of us who are coming out of a creative burnout, but I urge you to pay special attention to this one. If we are suddenly hit by inspiration and the writing is flowing and flowing and flowing, eventually we will hit the point of highest dopamine capacity for writing.

Not putting a check on the flood of inspiration coming out of a creative burnout, I’d argue, is actually a guarantee that many of us will experience burnout all over again. It becomes this vicious cycle in which we are trapped.

While it feels great to write non-stop and receive immediate validation for that work, try to limit yourself to how much you’re writing and how immediately you post your writing (if you plan on posting it).

Whenever I finish a one shot or a chapter of something, I like to allow at least one day for editing before I post. This timeframe is important, because it acts as a buffer of rest between writing marathons.

You can take however long you need for the editing process, but definitely make sure you have a set amount of time in place. Otherwise, your brain might not have enough time to come down from what is essentially a writing high, and you will always need to reach greater heights in order to achieve that same level of dopamine.

~~~~

Overall, the most important things to take away from all of this are:

Change up your environment

Keep your brain actively stimulated

Have pillars of structure between which you can run about chaotically to your heart’s content

PACE YOURSELF!

Hope this helped. Happy writing!

-Em 🖤🗡

Writing Tip Masterlist

Fic Masterlist

Celebrate 2K with me!

#this one was a spiritual one y'all #thanks for the ask babes!#writing #writing tips #writing advice #writeblr #writing tip masterlist #writer #writer's desk #writer's life #writer's problems #writer's block #ao3 #fanfiction #creative burnout #asked and answered #em answers #danaanruhn #thank you for 2k!! 🥳💜

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joshstambourine · 3 years

Text

What Friends Do pt. 1

Warning: Cursing

Word count: 2854

Synopsis: Josh and Jake are surprised when an old friend stumbles back into their lives, taking their world by storm with old feelings, new feelings, and problems they never would have expected.

Josh Kiszka x Fem!Reader x Jake Kiszka

“And that looks like time.” Danny sighs, eyes having glanced from the clock to the sound board that Josh and Jake were still fiddling with. “Let’s pack it up.” He tells the room with folded arms.

Josh began to shake his head, fingers pushing through his curls. “Am I gonna have to re-record that again?” He inquires looking at Jake with an annoyance in his eyes, seeming to have ignored Danny. Josh could really get into the zone when it came to his own portion in a song, nitpicking even the smallest thing he did wrong; this perfectionism of course came from a good place, Josh just wanted everything to be as he envisioned it.

Jake rubbed his chin, “I’m not sure… I don't know if it's you or maybe if Danny just started a touch too early there.” He mutters, “Maybe if we move this back a little?” He lightly asks, starting to fiddle with a few of the slides.

Sam chimed in as he stood up, “I think Josh will have to re-record it, I think it's just the inflection he used.” He simply points out, patting Jake on the back, “Anyways, we do actually have to leave on time today, guys…” Sam reminds them as he throws his jacket on, knowing that his brothers would stay hours over time if no one was behind them for recording.

“Oh shit… yeah I forgot that they have someone coming in today.” Jake muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “We’ll leave it for now. Maybe we’ll see if we can re-record that line again when we come in next.” He shrugs, it was frustrating but unfortunately all part of the job. Revisions were almost always going to need to be made, a track rarely came together on the first few tries of mixing.

Josh lays his head back over the back of his chair, letting out a loud sigh, “God I just want this one to be done.” He groans loudly, his hand rubbing his eyes briefly before moving to get to his feet. “I feel like we’ve been stuck on it forever.”

Danny slipped his hands into his pockets starting towards the door, “I honestly think it’s fine, I don’t know if we really need to change it.” He admits, “I think you’ve just listened to it so much you’re getting in your own head about it.” As any artist could, when reading, staring, or in this case listening to something you’ve made for a long time you’ll always be on the lookout for something to correct… even if it's fine to begin with.

Josh shakes his head, “No we gotta change it.” He mutters, tucking his phone into his back pocket, “Sam’s right, it’s the inflection... it just doesn’t feel right there.” Josh simply admitted, unhappy that he would have to record this second yet again, but it had to be done.

Jake nodded as he began to put things back into their places, and grab their things they needed to bring with them. “We’ll fix it.” He simply sighs,

Josh had begun toward the door still shaking his head in disappointment, “God I just wish we didn’t have to fuck around with it more.”

Sam held the door open as the rest of the guys shuffled out of the room, “Just wait Josh we’ll have to screw around with the next one a lot more.” He informs with an exasperated laugh, knowing just how much of a mess the original takes were. The track was bad enough that they continuously pushed off working on it, not ready to take on the head ache quite yet.

“Don’t!” Josh sternly says, “I really don't want to even think about that one yet.” He laughs weakly, a slight pain shown in his eyes just from the mention of the track. Josh’s fingers pulled back his curls loosely once again as he and the others stepped out of the room.

“I better go and talk to Mark to make sure we’re still booked to come in Wednesday.” Jake tells the others, as they had begun down the hallway.

Mark was a partial owner of the studio and was also in charge of bookings, it became a ritual to make sure things hadn’t changed or been moved around for their next session. The others nodded, seeming to have expected as much, making their way to the office area of the building. They didn’t have to look for long as Mark, an older gentleman with a cleanly trimmed greying beard and a rather laid back style of dress, was standing in the main area chatting with his secretary.

“Uh, tell him I’ll call him in an hour, I have to head down to studio three and check and make sure things are running smoothly.” Mark says, before looking to the group of men and giving a warm smile. “Ah, I’ll be back in a little bit Angela, I gotta chat with these fellas.” He says respectfully. The woman simply nodded and returned to her desk, after giving the boys a friendly smile.

“Hello gentlemen!” Mark happily called, as he began over to them offering a handshake to each of them. “How are things going? Getting things figured out?”

Sam was one of the first to take the hand shake, “Not yet, this guy can’t quite get his bit right.” He laughed with a head nod to Josh,

Josh shook his head rather aggressively, “I dunno what it is man, I’ve tried it a million times and it just isn't fitting.”

Mark nods seeming to understand, “Eh, you guys will get it soon. You always do.” He muses, “I assume you guys need to be booked back in?”

Jake nods, “Yeah we’re supposed to be in on Wednesday, does that still work?” He asks,

Mark seems to think about it, “Hm… I’m not sure. I’d have to check the log,” he mutters, honestly not quite sure if he remembered to book them in the last time with things being so hectic. “Actually if you guys have a minute I’ve gotta head down to studio three anyways, I can check the log while I’m there for ya?”

Everyone seems to agree, they begin back down the hallways again. “Whose recording in there right now?” Josh asks curiously, knowing that they had recently signed a few more artists on at the studio.

“Oh yeah, is it that new guy? Uh… Kenneth?” Danny inquired, “He showed us a bit of what he was working on --- really talented guy.” He continued, Jake nodded in agreement knowing that Kenneth was also an excellent guitar player.

Mark quickly shook his head, “Nope, someone new, think she’s only been here a couple weeks now, she’s been working on her first EP.” Mark explains, turning another corner before stopping at the said studio room.

Mark gives a small knock as he led the group into the room, as soon as they stepped in they could see a man sitting at the sound board with a headset on, he held a button, turning on the overhead mic for the studio room, “And you’re good to start again in three, two--” He lightly pointed toward the glass ahead of him, a cue to tell the artist to begin whatever section they were at.

It was surprising, but the voice coming in overhead felt all too familiar to Josh. His brows furrowing as he looked to Jake, lightly pointing up as if to ask if he recognized it at all. The woman singing had an absolutely gorgeous voice, one anyone would envy upon hearing it. It was almost hypnotizing just how beautiful it was.

Mark smiled in a proud way as he looked into the studio room, “Clearly things are going smoothly in here.” He says to the man at the soundboard, the man nodded in agreement.

“You were right, she’s a natural.” He says with a smile, clearly making his job a lot easier.

The rest of the group carefully stepped into the room more, trying to peek into the studio room. As soon as Josh was able to see through the glass his eyes began to narrow; Jake too had a strong reaction as he looked wide eyed through the glass, he could only let out a small laugh in disbelief.

Mark waited a couple more seconds until the woman had finished the line to wave her to come out of the studio room. It only took a moment for the door to open and reveal a beautiful young woman, she was dressed in a business-like top with loose flowing pants. She didn’t seem to hold as much of a strong reaction to seeing Josh or Jake, just maintaining an almost cocky grin.

Mark pointed to her from across the room, he beginning to look through the log book, “Boys this is---”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N).” Josh says, eyes still narrowed.

The woman’s eyes were slightly hooded, adding to the air of cockiness she had, “It’s good to see you again, Kiszka.” (Y/N) cooed, in a slightly condescending tone. She clearly knew that her presence would get this kind of reaction from him. “Been a long time~” She continues.

“Oh?” Mark says with furrowed brows, “You two know each other?” He asks lightly,

Sam couldn’t help but start laughing, "They went to high school together.” he says with a clearly amused smile.

(Y/N) clearly had changed a fair amount since they were in high school, as most people tend to do, but one very prominent thing that Jake could see was that she was much thinner than he remembered… but just as beautiful. Josh and (Y/N) were in many of the same classes during high school, and in every single one they shared they found something to be rivals over. Though they often bickered and called each other names they were really good friends and had been all throughout their time together.

“I wasn’t aware they accepted sirens at this label.” Josh says with a serious expression,

“Why wouldn’t they? They accepted a hobbit.” (Y/N) responds calmly, this making Josh smile rather widely and roll his eyes.

“It’s been too long, (Y/N).” He coos, moving to wrap an arm around her in a friendly way.

(Y/N) returned the small hug as she glanced at the others, “It definitely has!” She softly responds, “Man, Sam you’ve certainly changed since I saw you last!” She quickly says after having pulled back from the hug. (Y/N) not long after graduation had moved away to go to college, which meant the last time she had seen Sam he would have been fifteen.

Sam laughed a little, “Yeah… puberty does pretty wild things.” He mused, (Y/N) laughed at the response as she came to give him a small hug as well. It was strange but as soon as she came close Sam recognized her smell, it immediately brought back little memories. (Y/N) hung out at the Kiszka home rather regularly when she was still in Frankenmuth, Sam could clearly remember her helping him with his homework, playing card games with him and his brothers, and just her singing along to the music his parents would have playing in the home all the time.

(Y/N) looked to Danny and smiled politely, to which she soon offered him a hand to shake, “I don’t think we ever met. Danny right?” She inquires.

Danny smiled as he gently took her hand, giving it a small shake. “Yeah, it’s nice to meet you.” He tells her in a warm tone of voice.

“The pleasure is mine!” (Y/N) hums, she finally looks at Jake in a gentle way. “You can’t escape it!” She tells him as she simply opens her arms for one last hug, Jake smiles a touch as he moves to hug her back. “Good to see you Jake.” She utters lightly to him. Like Sam, her smell brought back memories, some good… and some bad. Unfortunately it also brought up certain feelings, feelings that he was certain he buried in high school.

“It’s good to see you too, (Y/N). You look…” Jake starts, seeming a little unsure how to finish the sentence, “...well?” He weakly finishes, with a crooked smile.

(Y/N) pulls back with a warm look in her eyes, “I would have accepted anything except fatter.” She muses lightly, seemingly able to tell that he had struggled to find a way to end the sentence. “Well from you at least.” She continued glancing back over at Josh in a knowing way,

“Hey, you know our mom taught us better than to make fun of a woman's weight!” Josh responds, before grinning, “Which is why it's perfectly fine, seeing as you aren’t a woman at all; rather you are nothing more than a she-devil!” Josh says pointing in something of an accusatory way.

(Y/N) snickered a little, suddenly remembering just how much she missed his antics. “Sounds sexy~” She hums, as she pushes her hand through her hair lightly, “Anyways! I should get back to it! But um… hey leave your numbers behind if you want. I’d love to get together and hang out again sometime. Catch up a bit?” (Y/N) said in a sure way.

Even Josh could tell that since her time away (Y/N) had become far more confident, it showed in the way she held herself and how her eyes looked over everyone. This fact made Josh smile a little, ‘Good for her.’ He thinks lightly to himself, knowing how much she had struggled with her self-confidence when they were young. “Can do!” He tells her, “I’ll make sure they use as much auto-tune as they can to keep your voice sounding so top notch.” He continues with a thumbs up as she opens the door leading back to the studio.

(Y/N) just shakes her head with a smile, “See you guys!” She waved lightly.

Jake lightly lifted his hand to wave back but the door was already shutting behind her. Mark soon was at his side, “Well that certainly worked out nicely! I guess it is a small world.” He mused, “Anyways, you guys are booked in for Wednesday, the time is a little later than usual though, hopefully that's alright.”

Jake wasn’t really paying attention, he in the back of his mind was still pushing back the feelings he had done so well locking away. Josh chimed in on his twins behalf, “Yeah that's fine.” Josh tells him, “You got a pen? I’m gonna do as that harlot asks so she doesn’t burn my house down later.”

Mark nods, handing one over as he walks back to the door. “I’ll see you boys later I’ve gotta check on a few more things still.” He says as he waved and exited swiftly.

Josh had already begun to scribble his number onto a napkin that had been sitting on one of the side tables in the room. As he finished he held up the pen to his brothers, though Danny took it before either of the other two could. “Hey now, what are you doing? She wanted our numbers?!” Sam laughed, “She has no idea who you are.”

Danny simply raised his brows, “Perhaps… mine was the only number she actually wanted.” He says as he raised his brow in a teasing way, Sam knew full well that Danny was only giving his number as a friendly gesture. Sam quickly took the pen from him not long after.

Jake stayed watching as she returned to the mic, returning her headset to its place on her head, not really noticing as Josh came and wrapped an arm over his brother's shoulder, “Definitely still pretty, huh?” Josh mused quietly. Josh had always known that Jake had a crush on (Y/N), and felt it was his job to tease him as much as he could about it.

Jake quickly looked to Josh with furrowed brows and a small smile, “Yeah I guess so.” He lightly laughs, seeming surprised by the question.

“I guess so?” Josh asked quizzically, “I was expecting a resounding yes from you.” He mutters, giving him a small squeeze, as he pretends to look saddened by his answer.

Jake lightly shrugged his arm off, “What can I say? Maybe she isn’t my type.” Jake says quietly, before going to take the pen from Sam. He considered not giving her his number, though it was brief as Jake didn’t want to make it seem like she had offended him or anything. With a small sigh, Jake wrote out his number and placed the napkin back on the table.

“Hey let her know where it is, would ya?” Josh asks the man on the soundboard who simply nodded.

With that the boys began to exit the room, Jake was the last to leave, he wanted to take one more look at her, taking this brief moment to give a small sad smile. ‘...I missed you.’ Jake thinks, before leaving the room.

#greta van fleet #greta van fic #josh kiszka x reader #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #sam kiszka #danny wagner #jake gvf #sam gvf #josh gvf #danny gvf #gvf fanfiction #gvf imagine #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet roleplay #gvf rp #gvf roleplay #jake kiszka x reader #what friends do

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lumilasi · 2 years

Photo

UPDATE: Decided to completely redo the shading today because I just honestly hated how this looked originally lmao. Also re-drew Avara because I didn’t like her portrait. This now looks infinitely better.

Some random facts of these ocs below:

Azul is not a dark mage himself technically, but knows a lot about the magic type. He is also a direct descendant of Amaros, and thus has access to the kind of magic he offers. Azul’s most typical thing to say is “So who fucked up now?” Because he’s basically the grumpy problem solver for his close ones. He has a little brother Reuben who is a fire elemental. Azul is the love interest of Diojas.

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Miriam Is a medium who lives with her childhood friend Maxwell, a wyvern she basically raised since finding his egg as a child. Miriam is one of Azul’s closest friends, and has the same vibe of “tired of your shit/will sip tea while silently judging you.”

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Jurou is the epitome of sassy flamboyant antagonist, who likes to taunt his opponents. He’s also a dad and despite being a “villain” he’s genuinely a good parent to Caelan. His Jorogumo mother’s spirit lives within his soul and sometimes comments on things happening around him.

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Amaros is the ancient king of a warrior Kingdom who performed a sacred ritual to turn himself into a Deity in order to protect his empire. He’s seen as a bit of a devious Deity, whose power can be both a gift and a horrible curse.True to his title his personality is a bit sinister and psychopathic, although he does take his position as a Deity and protector of his own citizens seriously, even though his kingdom was destroyed eons later and now the members of it wander across lands all over the place.

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Rayna is the epitome of relaxed playful big sister, who doesn’t take shit too seriously. Despite her goofy nature, she takes her job of protecting her kingdom’s weaker ruler (oc named Helias) very seriously, and is very skilled and strong fighter. She’s got a girlfriend who’s a librarian

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Caelan is the last member of a long lost clan with extremely powerful elemental storm powers. His vengeful ancestral spirits often try to possess him to extract their revenge, but his adoptive parent Jurou typically stops them from causing too much harm needlessly. Caelan has feelings for Claude, but it’s also an awkward situation given Claude’s clan was the one who mostly destroyed the elemental one century ago. Calean mostly comes off kind and polite, but can react very extremely. (basically he has slight yandere vibes)

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Avara is an Astral sorceress, meaning her magic is themed around night-sky and stars. She has a non-blood related sister Lumi, who is very protective over her. Avara was almost forcibly married to a horrible man, whom Lumi helped her escape from. She’s another good friend of Azul and Miriam. She’s pretty flirty but rarely genuinely means it, usually doing it just to tease people.

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Claude is a surviving member of a telepath clan who caused their demise by being forced to do a ritual with his twin brother that went horribly wrong. His powers and mind are both kind of unstable now, and he works for Araknos who promised to find a way to fix him. He has feelings for Caelan, but is hyper aware of the bad blood between their clans.

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Diojas is the eldest child of the Vermonte family, and known for his dramatic temper and perfectionism. Despite his sometimes difficult personality, Diojas genuinely cares for his loved ones and their citizens, his perfectionism really just wanting to make sure everything works properly. He was also cursed as a baby unknowingly to his family, which partially resulted to his difficult personality. He’s Azul’s love interest.

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transsexualhamlet · 3 years

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asmr i psychoanalyze my favorite war criminal, aka calling out norman the essay

basically all of my thoughts on norman on one callout post because i care him (both manga and anime are discussed)

LINK TO RAY PSYCHOANALYSIS: https://chaoticgaymess.tumblr.com/post/646749875570196480/ray-81194-the-long-explanation

this is going to be ungodly long so here’s a keep reading, essay below the cut

((tw for suicidal ideation and self harm, brief discussion of eating disorders))

Disclaimer: no shipping is included here this is just about norman also they’re kids who call each other siblings

Thoughts: So you may be thinking, Rowan, why do you yell about the colorless war criminal so often? Well the answer lies in your honor the court hates to see a girlboss winning. Norman is a girlboss :) Yes norman is a tiny twink who can't lift a milk jug. And he is a girlboss :) Obviously I don't condone, um, eugenics and all, but that's not the point the point is that he satisfies my need for more characters like Levi motherfucking Calder from Unwind because I’m apparently an edgy 13 year old. Also all of his problems are violently things I can fix and I keep him around as a pet project because someone needs to give him a hug and slap him on the face

I diagnose him with things:

-pisces man :pensive:

-is he albino? Not literally. Is his skin so pale he would catch fire if he went outside at noon? Yes.

-autism: Yes I’m aware that calling him autistic makes him, problematic rep by perpetuating the autism unfeeling savant stereotype whatever but have you considered i’m autistic and I’m projecting also he’s L with standards? Anyway traits of AuTism he has: hyper fixation, canonically breaks and fixes things over and over because like ofc he does, doesn’t understand Emotion, hyperaware of body language at the same time as it all somehow flying over his head, low empathy, sensory experiences™, min maxed in certain areas, and I don’t think he’s got social interaction quite right? There’s something off about it

-gifted kid (derogatory) This is self explanatory but basically him being the smartest and the best in a competitive environment caused most of his issues, such as the perfectionism, the need to succeed, the lack of self esteem and ridiculously high expectations on himself, giving himself no breaks or time to relax, the “i must be productive with every second of my day or i will die” deal, the “peaked at 11” thing, the way in which he goes through life like there’s going to be a fucking test on it

-Eldest Daughter™ lmao. Norman’s always had to be mature, he’s always had to be the best, he’s always had to do the things Ray got out of bc he’s a snitch and Emma got out of because Isabella likes her. Norman gets respect from Isabella only if he excels, and her bar for him is astronomical. He doesn’t have the Mommy Issues that Ray has, but it’s because for him Isabella basically just reflected his expectations on himself, whereas with Ray it was more personal.

-low empathy (part of the autism thing): this one needs more explanation, but it’s not a bad thing in and of itself. Cognitive empathy is a thing and he can use it, but he does not instinctively understand other people’s emotions, or even recognize them properly, especially when the person is not like himself. This is obvious in Emma. Man has no fucking clue what’s going on in her head or why she does what she does, but he can predict what she will do in any given situation very well. He could understand the suicide attempt from ray he predicted more because Ray’s an easier equation to solve, and someone who’s more similar to him. I know he gets it because, well, motherfucker’s just as self desctructive as him, just in a more dignified manner.

-he’s got some sort of chronic illness. This is also me projecting and a headcanon but he’s got something going on, even before lambda pumped him full of growth hormones or whatever which they maybe should have Not Done but oh well. (I assume this just didn’t happen in the anime, since he’s still so fucking short) But he's So weak. He passed out when it was too hot. He passed out when it was too cold. He can’t open a pickle jar. His skin is too pale and he’s skinny af. He’s much more prone to sickness and probably has asthma too? But in the case that he did actually have something going on, I don’t think grace field would see the need to treat it, if it didn’t impact the quality of his meat? Isabella’s probably just “you have chronic pain and you get migraines? Great, take some tylenol and do some calculus.” Can’t say that probably helped anything.

personality type: ISTJ

Basically, he’s the most boring personality type to exist, and personally as an enfp i do not respect him. But basically this means he’s a fucking nerd that gets his projects done for school the day they’re assigned, is probably the president of the Anime Student Council™, and could probably get away with premeditated murder (ok actual istjs this is a joke don’t skin me)

The only trait that norman doesn’t have on the istj thing is telling the truth. Yeah, he values the truth, but like, that doesn’t apply to him, clearly. Bitch is a notorious liar.

The only other personality type he has any similarity with is intj, which is the same except it’s more rare and a purple theme instead of a blue theme. Sadly, that’s not him though, because although he can care more about some kinds of philosophy overall this isn’t the case and ray already occupies this personality type tbh.

strengths and weaknesses: This one’s kind of obvious, but he is aside from the crazy insane intelligence good at planning. Extremely good at planning. He can predict any outcome and figure out how to prevent it, using all his resources. For example he’s physically weak and someone could literally just walk up and stab him, but it doesn’t impede his progress on his goals because he’s surrounded himself with strong, mentally inferior people who would die for him in a heartbeat. He never gets stuck in some “everything is shit and i can’t do anything” deal like Emma and Ray do, he always works through it and has confidence in his abilities (in as much as he will solve the problem or die™. Weaknesses other than his twink body include his Low Wisdom score. It’s funny how he’s often associated with an owl, the mans is 14. He thinks he knows what he’s doing. He doesn’t. Plus obviously his fundamental misunderstanding of so much of everything going on around him, the fact that he lies not just to the world but himself, his refusal to take care of himself and his incredible cowardice. His achilles heel is being forced to, actually confront his actions.

what he likes about himself: He does pride himself on his mental abilities, and his judgement, which in his opinion is the only correct opinion and the only correct way. In the past, he likes being seen as a leader, he likes being responsible for other people. He likes his ability to manipulate and lie, because he sees it as an asset, and I honestly think he enjoys being william minerva more than he enjoys being Norman. He prides himself on his unhealthy expectations and the fact that he is able to meet them. Honestly, he does think he’s better than everyone else, mentally, though it’s humbled by his self hatred. Cursed thought: If Norman had self esteem he would be light yagami.

what he doesn’t like about himself/insecurities: Oh god, nearly everything. His appearance, his status, his superiority, his physical inability, his own mess of a mind, also have I mentioned his appearance. He’s obsessed with self control. He wants everything he sees wrong with himself gone. And I understand why having control of everything is necessary and appealing, everything for him has always been rigid and planned out from moment one, he was even more regulated in lambda, and though he desperately wants to Not Be Food, he has no idea what to do with the chains now that he’s broken out of them. So he just wraps them around himself. Regulates to an unhealthy degree when he sleeps, what he eats, when he actually takes even minimal care of his own problems, what he looks like, how much of himself he lets show, the expressions on his face, the literal thoughts inside his own head he will shut down if they are not Correct. It’s literal self harm. Norman, please stop it.

motivations/goals in life/general philosophy: To be honest, I’m not sure he knows what he wants. He sure thinks he does, he could sure give you a memorized answer, but it means nothing. He wants to excel. He wants Emma to be happy. He wants to be perfect and for that to make everything perfect. But he doesn’t realize everything he’s working towards will do pretty much the opposite of that. He’s a crippling perfectionist, and pretty much everything he does is motivated by his fear of failing. He picks the certain path, he doesn’t wait for anyone else, he doesn’t care if it’s not nice. Emma foils that a most of the time because he cares about her, but it can only go so far, especially after he’s had so much time without her to develop a Complex. His philosophy is very contradictory, basically the tokyo ghoul “everything bad that happens to you stems from a lack of ability”. All of his problems are his fault. All the world’s problems are his to fix. If he can’t fix them, it’s his fault, it’s because he wasn’t strong enough, and not being perfect condemns someone forever, including himself.

how he’s perceived by others vs how he actually is: In most people there wouldn’t truly be much of a difference, but with Norman things are different, because, well, most of his personality in grace field is a put on, as well as the tough guy dictator thing he radiates after lambda. How he appears to someone is determined by the context of their meeting- the kids at grace field see him as a nerdy, weakish, pretty boring kid who is really caring and kind. The researchers at lambda see an obedient, beaten down and perfectionistic boy. The lambda kids see him as an infallible leader, ruthless and genius, a good man who knows what’s right. But in truth none of that is him. It’s a fucking chess game to him, putting on different faces, lying and pretending and treating everyone differently. In truth? He’s a fucking coward. He’s scared out of his mind and he’s tired and he can’t take pain, he’s obsessed with reaching some goal he deems is necessary that in the end is going to be his death because he doesn’t want to face the consequences of his actions. He’s taken on the role of someone evil, though deep down he’s not, he feels it’s easier to live that way because it strips him of his conscience.

interpersonal relationships: In general, Norman sees all relationships in a pretty dim light. He sees everyone as black and white, for the most part, and other people make no sense to him intuitively, he has to figure them out like a puzzle. He’s manipulative and not particularly kind, but he follows all societal expectations to a T, overly focused on his appearance and placing the person he’s interacting with into a Category™. So he can be truly kind, to people he feels deserve it, to people who he values and doesn’t see flaws in. He gets incredibly attached to people he loves, protective, though he often doesn’t take their own feelings on the matter into consideration, and he’s ruthless with anyone who he deems a bad person. With people he understands and relates to, though, things can be different. If he sees someone as like himself, he will drop all the social interaction police bullshit and cut to the chase of whatever he wants or needs from them, and he’s not very forgiving in any manner, if he thinks what someone did is actually bad.

Emma: Norman obviously cares a lot about Emma, and honestly views her as better than anyone else. He realizes her moral integrity and all of the things she has and he doesn’t, and admires it. Because of his black and white view, Emma is like an angel to him. She couldn’t do anything wrong if she tried. But he comes to treat her as something to be protected instead of respected, and although he realizes she wouldn’t like what he’s doing, he fundamentally cannot empathize with her and doesn’t try to understand her. Their personalities are very literally opposite. Norman really needs to fucking listen to her. And Emma needs to understand that Norman doesn’t have a single ounce of empathy and you really do need to spell it out for him. Emma can only convince him when she has logical reasons for her actions, which she, doesn’t often have. And Emma gave Norman too much slack, because she didn’t see past the surface, and Ray never wanted to warn her, even though he knew the dude was showing a bunch of red flags, because you know. It was kind of an unspoken deal between them. (on ray’s part)

Ray: His relationship with Ray is a lot more complicated than with Emma. He understands Ray, where he doesn’t understand Emma, and he can see right through anything Ray does. And this makes things really tense between them, because Ray doesn’t, take kindly to being psychoanalyzed. If someone perceives him he will deck them and Norman is just there silently perceiving him at all times when Emma doesn’t see it. They are both constantly in competition with each other, but they care about each other a lot, though it’s kind of in a derogatory way. They both recognize each other as fundamentally fucked up, and silently agree never to bring it up with Emma. They’re nice to each other when she’s around, but all pretenses disappear when she’s gone. Ray is always frustrated with Norman, because Norman’s never been intimidated by him, and though he tries his best not to be vulnerable around him, Norman can always see through it, whereas Ray can’t crack Norman’s fake fucking smile no matter what he does. Norman will always take Emma’s side, and doesn’t see Ray as a good person at all, but he still understands and can excuse him, he takes measures to be… worse than Ray, which is better in his mind, because it’s rational, and ‘not selfish’.

Isabella: She has always had ridiculously high expectations for Norman, and treats him kind of harshly compared to the others. Bitch has heat stroke and Isabella’s first question is a calculus problem instead of like, “are you ok”. She knows he doesn’t complain about anything ever and she doesn’t stop him from being Terrible to himself, because it makes her job easier. They want smart kids, not mentally adjusted kids. She does really care for all of them, but she basically overrides it, she gives them what they want, not what they need, lets them be exactly what they’re making themselves. Isabella is distant with Ray but gives him anything he wants, she’s close and super nice with Emma, but Norman is… it’s weird. Isabella is proud of him because he meets her astronomically high bar. But at the same time, Norman never really cared for her that much and has never pretended to. Once they discover The Thing, though, he has a revelation, and it doesn’t take him long to switch his entire perspective about her. He’s pretty much like. Oh. She’s like me. That explains it, time to treat her like I treat myself: fucking brutally. Passive aggressive as hell. The kind of energy the :) emoticon at the end of an email gives. He does like just go “yeah we should kill her” at one point, which. You know, ok. When he got shipped out it was hhhh really interesting because Isabella knew full well he knew he was walking to his death and Norman was like “are you Truly Happy?” and just went :) and she was like h u h and tried to get him to talk while they were walking there because she feels Bad about it and he just. Did not. He didn’t say a single word just kind of smiled menacingly at her and I think it was half a sort of rebellion and half because he viewed her as similar to himself and therefore felt no need to put up any front with her, no words were necessary for him to impart exactly how he felt about it

Lambda kids: His relationship with the lambda kids is weird and bittersweet. I think he really truly does care about them, they were in a similar situation to his and he wants them to get what they want. However it is not a healthy or beneficial relationship, they see him as a god and don’t realize that he’s killing himself to give them what they want, he’s basically adopted them when out of anyone norman’s the one that should least be in charge of kids. I think he’s honestly younger than them but I’m not sure if they even know. He acts like their fucking mom, and that’s from what he thinks mothers are like… like isabella?? Giving them what they want, not what they need, lying to them, showing a front, caring deeply for them but at the same time using them for his own ends. And it’s not helpful for him. He thinks he knows what they need, but what he’s doing is what they want. What they need is therapy,(and so does norman), and he doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with using them as weapons because they love him. It makes him feel good, to be seen as perfect, to have people who don’t know how weak he really is. But it’s only making him worse, and he’s enabling everything the lambda kids are doing wrong as well. They need like, Yuugo and Lucas. Some actual adults who are actually wise and have the ability and the knowledge to take care of them and understand their mental problems and maybe actually address them. And actually be nice to them. But um sadly.

what he’s doing wrong: It’s pretty obvious, but… Norman, you maybe *shouldn’t* commit genocide? You’re not helping emma, you’re not making anything better. You’re not helping the lambda kids, you’re enabling them. You’re not helping your friends from grace field, you’re ignoring what they want. You’re not helping the world, you’re eradicating an entire race from the face of the earth and murdering the poor for the crimes of the fucking 1%. You’re not being a martyr, you’re a selfish piece of shit liar you little coward, you just want an easy way out and you want to die on your bloody fucking hill instead of admitting you’re wrong. Grow up, cringe little man.

why he went wrong: I think most of the reason this happened was the way he was raised combined with the kind of person he is. Norman would have turned out fine, if there has been good adults in his life who actually cared about his well being. Instead he got people who just wanted to control him and make him what they needed, and family who largely didn’t realize there was anything wrong. Ray being an ass to him most of forever probably didn’t help but well, that’s just Ray. Even then, he would have managed alright if he escaped with the rest of the kids because he would never have been separated from the experiences that caused the rest of them to realize demons weren’t all evil. In lambda he didn’t have anyone supporting him or telling him when things went too far, so he fell into relying on himself alone, pushing himself further with absolutely no limits. All he saw was enemies and allies, and things got stratified. He never had a lucas or a yuugo or mujika when he would have needed it, instead he found children who wanted him to be in charge and a world that made it so he had to be. Everything was an echo chamber for his worst thoughts, so they just became more and more dominant.

what he needs: To put it simply, he needs Emma and Ray to cut to the chase and slap him across the face and make him take care of himself. He needs to be forced to see everything for what it really is- this edgy 14 year old committing atrocities to feel better about himself? He needs to be told that what he’s doing is irrational, because in reality, it is. There are better solutions that he’s ignoring, both to his own suffering and the demons, and the way he’s going now no one will truly be happy because of it, that there is no requirement that things be perfect and this bullshit doesn’t make him stronger. He needs someone responsible to take the fucking dagger out of his hands. He also needs someone to babysit him and make him go to bed at a reasonable time.

i describe his personality through songs on my spotify playlist for him:

-outrunning karma by alec benjamin: this one super applies because it calls him out for making shitty decisions, being manipulative and a liar, and having blood on his hands in a very calm and subdued manner, that he knows this is wrong and yet he chooses to keep running faster and faster towards destruction, that he means to escape it through death

-empty by boyinaband and jaiden: yes this is a song about anorexia yes it also applies to norman i’m not saying norman literally has an eating disorder (but honestly it wouldn’t be far out of character if he did) but metaphorically this applies to his method of ignoring his needs, both emotional and physical, in favor of seeming in control

-toxic thoughts by faith marie: this one speaks to his gifted kid trauma. Man’s got perfectionism running his entire soul. He’s terrified of failing, because he’s always been at the very top, he’ll beat himself up over any miniscule mistake and forces himself to keep at bad habits that keep him Productive, but he won’t ask for help no matter how much he’s suffering because that would be failing, he fights with his mind, this song basically tells him “yeah i feel you but you need to stop that”

-no time to die by billie eilish: ignore the romantic overtones but this is emma and norman, emma who trusted norman and was lied to, betrayed, for norman’s greater good, and norman who refuses to feel or hurt because of it, who refuses to apologize or see himself as wrong, pushes forward because he’s going to Pass Away

-achilles come down by gang of youths: hhhhh it's like. His vibe. Obviously you can disregard the lifestyle specific shit but it's. It's achilles come down you have to understand it’s like the same deal as friend, please just like french and longer

-friend, please by 21 pilots: i feel like i don't have to explain this one but it’s more to the manga (not the anime where he kind of figures out he done did wrong by himself instead of committing unforgivable sins and still going yeah this is valid before emma is like holy fuck). He is like sorry emma I cannot fix anything I’m going to die :) *coughs blood* and emma going like stop it stop it stop it fuck you see you fucked up and i forgive you just stop don’t walk away while he’s like “no<3”

why im a repressed little norman kinnie even tho he’s my exact opposite: I don’t generally kin ppl like norman, honestly he’s an infj I have no clue how it happened but I’m pretty sure it’s because of my intense desire to project onto a little man who cannot lift a milk jug and has chronic pain and decides you know what I AM tired of being nice i DO wanna go apeshit. Also he’s a twink. A little bastard. He’s a terrible person and I go mood every time he does anything. I said mood when he fell out of a tree. Don’t know what this says about me, I swear I wouldn’t commit no genocide. He’s like the inverse of Yoichi Saotome, and somehow i kin him too. Damn.

Miscellaneous headcanons:

-man’s SO attached to his william minerva cloak. He’s a wispy little bitch, you know he’s wearing that thing inside the house, he’s fucking cold. It also makes him Look Important he can retreat into it like an emo middle schooler with an oversized sweatshirt

-although you could probably get Mad street cred from having two whole brands you know he’s not gonna whip it out and show off his lambda thing he’s incredibly self conscious and his chest hasn’t seen the sun in years

-norman’s got MAD laundry skills to be able to wear like, all white all the time while constantly murdering people. I think he’s the only one who knows to do the laundry. And Ray is the only one who knows how to cook.

-but even then there’s gotta still be a few questionable stains on that thing, but if anyone asks he’s like “ketchup” “I’ve literally never seen you eat anything with that much color” “ketchup :)” *coughs blood*

-he’s probably thought “well i have not literally coughed blood yet today so I am not legally obligated to take care of myself”

-He probably adopted much of his current personality from taking on the persona of william minerva. I’m calling him out for being like me, he’s a blank motherfucker, he absorbs personality traits from characters he plays! He’s just not in theatre so it’s a bit more intense!

-the first time he sees barbara Eating Demon Meat he kinda stares and goes oh cool! not for me and violently exits the room. Like it's hilarious bc he thinks that's really gross on a moral level though he understands why she would do it

-Which is even funnier bc I’m not sure about the canon on this but there was That Chapter Cover that one time that kinda seemed to imply norman eating demon meat which i absolutely latched onto because I’m terrible. He was just politely eating it. With a knife and fork like why dude. As to a possible reason for him doing that I can come up with, of course barbara does it out of spite, but man we don’t know the properties, if it had some sort of painkilling aspect to it or it was like, caffeine, you know he would, but he would Definitely not talk about it

-I kinda disagree with what the anime did in episode eight? It was good I liked it and the imagery was fantastic but also have you considered Norman could not kill someone with his own hands if he tried, or even physically injure them? That’s what his minions are for shawty. That doesn’t make it any less bad, of course, but the manga captured it perfectly by the fact of he carries around a dagger and a scepter in the capitol battle, but he never even raises it out of more than intimidation. He walks through calmly like he’s not scared at all but he makes sure all the lambda kids do all the actual murder, he just stands there impartially, clearly The Mastermind, as the kids fucking murder the queen of the demons. And I think that’s more profound because he’s, a coward. And he doesn’t realize being the one who orders the strike makes you just as responsible as the one who sticks the knife in someone. The knife is just there to Compensate™ for the fact that he weighs like eighty pounds.

-he’s more of like lady macbeth (because he’s a girlboss) than macbeth himself. He has blood on his hands, but it’s the kind of blood that you can’t wash off. He never killed anyone himself, and he cannot admit he never would have been able to.

-the last thing is that there are definitely epic things about the anime, episode 8 was my favorite so far, goddamn that imagery and the bitch walking through the city while it burns down with the screaming asmr going on behind him my god. We stan. But like the downside of, letting Emma and Ray get to him before he commits first degree murder makes the whole thing lose a lot of his value. In the manga (oh my god look at me being a pretentious manga fan please) it fit more of his ideas- he never backed down, and he planned for Emma coming and trying to stop him. Of course he wanted Emma to stop him, he wanted it with all his fucking heart he was pleading for it to happen but the man wouldn’t give himself what he wanted if he was held at gunpoint. He knew she’d come and he made absolutely sure she wouldn’t be able to stop him. So when she came and he said “you’re too late”??? It kind of said it all, in the fact that he was disappointed that he got his way. He still thought he did the right thing, but deep down there where he shoved all his thoughts and feelings he desperately wanted to be saved from himself.

So yeah, those are my thoughts. Feel free to eviscerate me if these are not Correct he is just my favorite girlboss who I feel the need to yell at

#tpn #the promised neverland #yakusoku no neverland #tpn norman #norman tpn #essay post #god why do i do this to myself #dear god help me this is 5000 words #rowan's hyperfixation essays

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mussthemoose · 3 years

Text

Omori Sibling Swap AU

I had this brain worm in my head for too long so now I’m writing it out here. Basic premise is that Sunny and Kel swap as siblings, with Sunny staying with his parents and Mari swapping over to Hero’s. Under the cut because it might get a bit long and also because it’s likely going to have a few uh...things in it.

tw: child neglect, child abuse (being safe for this one)

Mari and Kel

I’m going to have to be honest right out of the gate here, these two definitely get the better end of the deal in this

It doesn’t matter if it was going to be Kel or Sunny, Mari absolutely loved the idea of having a little sibling

She spends time with him, adores being around her little ball of energy and excitement that just wants to go go go

And she’s more than happy to go with him! She often leads, but never has trouble with getting Kel to run off charging forward on his own, letting him take the chance to explore the world. “It’s your own little oyster” as Mari would love to say

Kel grows up with a sister who understands that he sees the world in his own way, interacts with it a bit differently than most people would think, and who spends the time to try to understand that

She teaches him how to interact with people and solve his problems working with his mindset, different than his parents who seem to be almost patronizing when they try to teach him the ‘right’ way to do it

Mari doesn’t ever tell him he’s doing it wrong, she only ever works with him on how to interact with the world without accidentally stepping on its toes in his excitement

Kel grows up an excitable and rambunctious kid as always, and while he might not be completely there for the book smarts, he is stupidly good at emotional intelligence, even more so than in the base game

Because he’s had someone help him learn how to interact and process his own emotions, how to recognize and respond to others own emotional states, he’s much more able to read someone and then go “oh, I should probably act like X because they’re not feeling too well.”

He’s a much happier healthier kid too, because Mari is his role model, and with having a household that still has expectations, but isn’t as strict on her to meet them? Her perfectionism doesn’t develop as hard over the years, and she’s always had a stronger personality, enough to be able to stand firm in doing what she wants to, not just meeting her parents expectations

She does still meet them often because she’s just Like That to a degree, but it’s important to Kel because it lets him know that when he tries to follow in her footsteps, it’s not because Mari is the better sibling and he needs to follow her example, even if he refuses to believe she’s not the better sibling because she’s just so amazing and loving in his eyes

It’s because Mari shows that if she excels because it’s who she is and it’s what she wants to do, than it’s also fine to be bad at some stuff but good at other stuff if that’s what Kel wants to do!

And unlike Hero, Mari doesn’t try to play as the neutral party/the diplomat in the household when her parents talk down at Kel she steps in and puts her foot down, lets him know that he doesn’t need to be just like her, that he’s perfect in his own way

Kel’s never happier than when she says he’s perfect the way he is. Mari loves when things are perfect, perfection is something she strives for, he knows how much it means to her

So every time Mari says he’s perfect, he feels like he’s doing something right

Talking about how they will interact with the friend group as a whole is likely for another post, but know that by their powers combined these two are fucking nightmares of pranksters. There is no escape, only japes.

Hero and Sunny

Hero and Sunny...do not get the better end of the deal, but to be more specific Sunny does not

Hero does not actually have much problem with the household. High expectations and standards put on his shoulders would be an issue...if he wasn’t Hero

It’s not to say those expectations aren’t an issue, that he doesn’t feel the pressure nipping at his heals, but Hero is someone who is good at everything he does without much effort, and excels when he puts his mind into it

The only thing he doesn’t excel completely at is sports, but when he seems to be able to handle any instrument handed to him, be top of his class, and even at a young age have his charisma start to shine through? His parents don’t really hold it against him outside of light teasing

One of the jokes his father would say when Sunny was born is that he might finally be able to play some sports with

Hero can still play sports, he can play catch, he can do most things as long as he doesn’t do them for long and overexert himself, he’s just not perfect at it. (He doesn’t know why this upsets him so much)

Sunny is not someone to play sports with, and in fact he doesn’t seem to be one to do a lot of things unless he’s told to, and even then it can be...tricky, to know exactly what he wants to do

It’s not too bad for awhile, there’s high expectations still but he’s still a little kid for awhile

They have Hero, and the parents at least know that two golden star children is maybe a bit too much to expect, that Sunny will learn how to catch up eventually, especially with Hero as a role model and being there to guide him

And this, this is the first time Hero feels like he’s really failing at something important

He’s not Mari, he loves his little brother and every time he can get a smile out of him it means the world to him, he would do anything to help out Sunny

But he’s not Mari, he realizes this when the two eventually meet and he sees how she acts around Kel, realizes how much better she is at just understanding people. Sees that she seems to figure out Sunny better in a few weeks than the entire lifetime that he’s had

It’s not that he’s completely bad at it or doesn’t understand at all, but Hero has learnt a lot of his charisma tied to how to please other people, how to be what they want him to be because that’s what’s expected of him

In the main universe Kel didn’t need his help to be himself, to interact with the world, their relationship dynamic was different where Hero was the role model that tried to help Kel ‘be better’

Sunny follows Hero like a little duckling, trying his best to mimic when he can, but that’s most of what it ends up being, mimicry

Hero doesn’t know how to understand Sunny in the way he wants to, the way Sunny needs him to, and it hurts

He helps as much as he can, with homework that he translates in a way Sunny seems to get so that he doesn’t do bad not good enough, but not bad, just enough to be disappointing compared to Hero, not a disappointment...yet

Sunny does not grow up with someone who understands him like Mari understood him, he has someone who loves him dearly and would do anything to get him to come out of his cage, who has helped him open up more than he would have on his own

But it’s not the same

Sunny grows up with the axe of disappointment hanging over his head even more than before. Kel’s parents would at least say that he should be more like Hero. After a point Sunny’s parents just...stop.

It’s not that he’s even less of a disappointment, but almost like he’s not worth the energy and time to say so anymore. If you never met Sunny or had seen the pictures in the house you might not even know they had a son besides Hero, and Sunny can’t help but feel that they might like it better that way

Sunny doesn’t mind, really! It’s not like they’re actually hurting him or starving him or any manner of things. His dad tolerates him and his Mom really does love him, he just knows that Hero is the only one they really want and that if he suddenly vanished one day than it really wouldn’t be that much of an issue because they’d still have Hero. A story only needs one Hero to carry on, he knows that he’s just the side character

Hero is a mixture of ignorant and...afraid. Not of his parents, they love him too much for him to ever be seriously concerned and they actually do listen to him (a part of him calls him a coward because of that, what kind of Hero has the power to save someone but then doesn’t?)

But he’s worried of ever losing that respected position of favored child, respected child, the perfect prodigy. This is just the way things are in his world. He does his best to guide Sunny through it and hope that his love is enough for him even though he knows it isn’t, it’s nowhere near what he needs, what he deserves

He’s known this ever since the day when Sunny came over to his bed because he had another nightmare, but his presence didn’t save his little brother from restless sleep after. That’s when he knew he failed, because even if Sunny didn’t say it, he realized that Hero couldn’t...or wouldn’t, protect him him from the things that scared him

Hero is thankful for meeting Mari, for meeting everyone in the friend group, because Sunny finally has people who can understand him better, and teach Hero how to help out Sunny the way he’s always hoped he could

It’s not perfect, there’s still a mountain or problems but...Sunny followed him around now these days like a little duckling because he really did just believe that Hero was someone he wanted to follow

...And not just because he was afraid that if he didn’t have Hero, there wouldn’t be anyone left who’d really love him

#Omori #Omori spoilers?#Kel (omori)#Sunny (omori)#Hero (omori)#Mari (omori)#Musethemoose #Talking meta up in this #This took like two hours #And is so damn wordy #But I hope y'all enjoy this #sunnysviolin #I hope I tagged you right for this big thing #child neglect #I'm so sorry Sunny and Hero but very specifically Sunny #I really did you like this after giving Mari and Kel happy friendship times #Hero is a good person and very charismatic but you can't charisma your way into emotional intelligence when you're like #seven years old #he's trying though #I'm probably making a part two for this for how this changes friend group interaction so like #Be prepared for the squad seeing Sunny as the baby of the group but one that really does need them all to look out for them because aha #Thinking it'd be better if you didn't exist is not healthy thinking kids!

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dropintomanga · 3 years

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Kaguya and Miyuki - One of My Favorite Manga Romances Ever

“Women often fell in love with someone who seems superhuman suddenly reveals their vulnerability.”

I haven’t found many fans who talked about this, but how the relationship between Kaguya Shinomiya and Miyuki Shirogane in Kaguya-sama: Love Is War becomes truly official (Volumes 14-15 of the manga) is psychologically compelling. It’s one of the best portrayals of how romance realistically develops.

The whole premise of Kaguya-sama: Love Is War is based around an ongoing battle of wits between Kaguya and Miyuki on who will get the other to confess their feelings towards them. Both have liked each other for a while, but resort to a bunch of wacky strategies throughout the series to force a confession. It isn’t until Volume 14 where Miyuki decides to do an elaborate confession during a school culture festival on his own terms. Kaguya takes the initiative in kissing Miyuki during that moment. However, a growing sense of awkwardness and tension occurs due to their relationship changing. Both parties become unsure on how to be comfortable around each other. This leads to Kaguya’s personality suddenly shifting to her “Ice Kaguya” persona (a very cold side of herself that developed due to her upbringing) and Miyuki developing a sense of insecurity over not being good enough for Kaguya. The situation is further complicated as Miyuki wants to go to America for college and Kaguya is willing to go with him. The tension hits a turning point when Miyuki is suddenly hospitalized for burnout. Kaguya realized that Miyuki is trying to do too much and wants to save him after accepting her own flaws.

After the first kiss, Kaguya starts to become emotionally unstable as she has a conversation with her maid, Ai Hayasaka, about what happened. Kaguya talks about how intimate and long the kiss was. Hayasaka scolds Kaguya a bit and tells her that the kiss was a French kiss. There’s jokes about a French kiss being compared to actual sexual intercourse. Kaguya freaks out and she becomes Foolish Kaguya, a child-like persona that emerges due to being emotionally overwhelmed, in school the next day.

We later take a look inside Kaguya’s head where all of her subconscious personas talk about Miyuki. She has Child Kaguya, Ice Kaguya, and Foolish Kaguya as a part of her. They represent the ego, superego and id respectively. Ice Kaguya takes charge in being the dominant persona as she proclaims that she had feelings for him first. What’s important about Ice Kaguya is that she represents the kind of mask we put on in order to justify being a part of a world that demands so much from us. The Shinomiya family is a rich family that wants to decide everything for Kaguya. Ice Kaguya is an “act” to not deal with conflicting emotions and shunning everyone around her in order to protect them from her terrible side.

Miyuki becomes frightened in how to respond around Ice Kaguya while Ice Kaguya doesn’t know how to talk to him. The hospitalization happens after Ice Kaguya tries to get Miyuki to kiss him and he collapses out of a fear of looking bad. A lot of times, we don’t see what happens after the first kiss happens in romance stories. It’s usually happily ever after. But things change. There’s a gap between friends and lovers. It’s hard to take further steps after taking a huge leap (which is hard enough). This is especially the case when both parties fear vulnerability so much after being known as successful to those around them.

There’s a nice look inside Kaguya’s mind where Ice Kaguya talks to Little Kaguya about how she was raised to not be nice towards people. Never rely on others, hinder your opinions, treat others as pawns, etc. Ice Kaguya berates herself as someone who hurts others and not worthy of Miyuki’s love. But the other personas tell her that she deserves love as much as they do. It reminds me of how uncomfortable we are with our dark sides. Yeah, we do have flaws and they’re sometimes ugly. But they’re a part of who we are. They’re us. Our dark sides, like Ice Kaguya, are defense mechanisms forced to emerge to protect us. If we have sympathy towards those who are forced to do something they don’t like, it’s possible to do the same for ourselves. Self-compassion is not weakness.

The doctor who sees Miyuki at the hospital proclaims that Miyuki is suffering from “lovesickness.” He says that Miyuki has a mental health issue. Miyuki proclaims that he’s forced to be a genius due to how bad his family situation is. He never got love from his mother (who would later leave his father) after failing exams in his early youth. Miyuki later reveals that he put on a confident act in order to become the student council president. He feels that he has to try really hard in order to be on equal footing with Kaguya. A nurse tells him that it’s okay to be vulnerable. But Miyuki believes Kaguya is perfect without any understanding of her true self and decides to stress himself to be the perfect man.

There’s a point to be made that men find it hard to talk about emotions when women find it easier to do so. Sometimes, it’s much harder for men due to the roles they have to take in order to be “competitive” enough to survive. Speaking through actions is what men are supposed to excel at. That’s the role/burden men like Miyuki are given.

The romantic tension finally comes to an end when Kaguya confronts Miyuki at Christmas Eve. Miyuki tries to find a good gift for Kaguya to impress her, but ends up with a “ball in a cup” toy. He tries not to give it to her due to his need to make things perfect, but she takes it and enjoys the gift. The two would get into a long conversation at a park about being an ordinary couple for a change after Kaguya admits that being around him is good enough for her. They have a kiss that feels more proper because now they truly know each other. Miyuki then finally realizes that Kaguya’s totally okay with him failing at things from time-to-time.

“It takes courage to be average.” is a saying I heard recently. Everyone is told they’re special and capable of doing whatever they want. However, there’s a huge price to pay to chase a kind of success that feels never-ending. I’m not saying we should stop working hard for what we want. It’s just that the grind is often very lonely. There’s no time for reflection. We also can’t realistically achieve every goal we have in mind. The best indicator of someone’s happiness and success is relationships. I think the beauty of the Kaguya/Miyuki romance is that it’s okay to be a boring, average couple deep down. That’s what real romance is anyway to me - to not have so much drama in your life. I think about this a lot. As someone with mental illness, I’ve been told to date someone with a consistent routine because certain highs can be just as bad as certain lows.

I’m really glad Aka Akasaka didn’t stop the series after the culture festival kiss because that moment felt too “perfect.” I wonder if this is a criticism of how perfectionism has caused good and honest people to shun away any emotional wounds they have suffered. People usually are the problem in inflicting wounds, but they’re also the solution to processing them. Romantic relationships are mostly about being willing to put up with your partner’s flaws. It’s often difficult to share pain with someone and it’s important to admit that it’s okay to want someone you love to share it with. Honoring that desire is a big part of loving others and more importantly, yourself.

Vulnerability is sexy and when love becomes war (like it was for Kaguya and Miyuki), it’s the great equalizer to achieving true peace for all sides involved.

#Kaguya-sama: Love Is War #Kaguya Shinomiya #Miyuki Shirogane #manga #love #romance #relationships #mental health #vulnerability

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vanderlindemangofarm · 4 years

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The Van der Linde Gang - Jobs in a Modern AU

I’ve been really inspired to write about this lately and I’d love to hear your takes! These are the occupations that I think each gang member would have in a modern AU. Some were more challenging than others, but hopefully you guys can see where I’m coming from with each!

Arthur: Film location scout. His natural eye for photography and framing makes Arthur the perfect member of a pre-production team. His no-bullshit approach to everything means he keeps to deadlines, although he’s known to go wandering off into the wilderness for unknown amounts of time. He enjoys the lone working side of his job and finding exactly the right spots that would make the film come to life. He doesn’t always like the films once they’re finished (in fact he’s often bought cinema tickets and walked out half way through, grumbling that it wasn’t worth the popcorn) but he can’t deny the excited buzz he gets every time he gets hired. In his early years as an assistant he met Bertie Mason, a nervous but talented photography intern. Despite an ill-advised hookup after a week joined at the hip they have remained close friends and still go out on shoots together.

John: landscape gardener. John? Flowers? Yes, alright, I found it hard to believe too. But look, it’s not about the flowers, even if he does get misty-eyed at the sight of a sunflower in the early morning light. It’s about the challenge, the outdoors, and solving problems. After all the renovations he did to his house and garden (some more successful than others) John found how much satisfaction he got from digging and reshaping and planting. Don’t get me wrong, he’s often without a shirt, even in the colder months, much to the delight of some and the horror of others. He always makes friends with the household pets and is wonderful with the kids, always dropping his task to throw a frisbee around for a bit or cheekily accept an ice cold glass of lemonade from their mothers. Whenever he drives past one of his projects he feels himself glowing with pride - “I did that!”.

Dutch: philosophy lecturer. As always, late with Starbucks. Will he actually grade your essay? Will it mysteriously disappear? Keeps you on your toes, doesn’t it? Sitting precariously on the very edge of his desk, leather jacket hanging off his shoulders and losing his balance every 15 minutes, Dr Van der Linde is nothing short of a wonder. For the love of all that is holy, do not get him started on Kant. Kant has no place here. You want to talk about your precious Kant? Get your butt down to Dr O’Driscoll’s class, he has plenty to say about Kant. Perhaps a little too fond of Socrates. Plato who? Completely illegible handwriting and definitely sleeping with several members of the faculty. But somehow his students always walk away with excellent grades. At the end of each term Dutch takes everyone out to a local bar for drinks, insists on buying tequila which no one really fancies at 11am. Claims to ride a motorcycle called The Count which no one has actually seen. Impossible to hate, and he writes everyone great references for their summer internships.

Hosea: social worker. In a crisis, there’s no one better to knock on your door. Hosea has seen it all and he’ll see it all again, but that doesn’t stop him from treating every single case he gets with the upmost respect and care. His no-nonsense approach to his work means he gets things done, but he never sacrifices his compassion. He mostly works with teenagers and has a way of being able to connect to each individual without coming across as patronising. He’s been in the field for over two decades and is an invaluable mentor for any newcomers, always willing to share a word or two of advice or be a shoulder to cry on.

Javier: guitar teacher and music therapist. During his worst years, Javier’s guitar was his lifeline. And he wants to help others find their lifeline, too. He works on a freelance basis, mainly going into mental health hospitals, schools and prisons. He runs workshops focusing on guitar playing, but brings other instruments (mainly percussion) to try too. He’s a gentle teacher, always with a joke in his back pocket for when you need it most. He has nicknames for everyone and remembers everything they’ve ever told him. He’s patient and never lets anyone feel bad for making a mistake. Javier also runs an after-school guitar club at the local middle school alongside playing his own music at gigs whenever he can. No, he doesn’t reply to DMs no matter how thirsty they are.

Sadie: self-defense instructor. After surviving an attack several years ago, Sadie used her ferocity to get her qualification in self-defense to teach other women how to fight back should they need to. Her husband Jake helps out in her classes, happily allowing himself to be thrown around and slammed onto the mat as many times as required. Her students are terrified of her in the best and nicest way. Sadie also volunteers at a women’s refuge, providing emergency care and taking phone calls.

Charles: environmental campaign manager. Charles has always been drawn to charities and started doing voluntary work for Greenpeace when he was at university, securing an internship with them in Canada which led to a full time job. Whilst Charles mainly hosts meetings and organises events, he also works closely with elementary schools and runs workshops with outdoor activities, crafts and music. Last week they made bird feeders! It was awesome. He’s also a keen activist and regularly meets up with Javier to go to protests and community events, most recently for BLM.

Micah: motorcycle mechanic. Micah is massively invested in motorcycle culture and treats his beloved bike better than his own mother, if he still spoke to her. Although he pretends not to care, fixing bikes is his greatest passion and almost looks...happy when he’s doing it? Maybe? He likes knowing more than the people who stop by his shop and makes sure they know it. Occasionally he leaves his number on a scrap of paper inside women’s handbags when they’re not looking but for some reason none of them call. Like it or not, he’s incredibly skilled and will have your motorcycle singing a tune if that’s what you want. Euphemism? Of course not.

Abigail: nurse. She was so shy when she realised she wanted to pursue nursing - would people laugh at her? Was she too impatient, too nagging, too shrill? Her dyslexia always put her off going into further education and she was always discouraged by her parents. But with lots of encouragement from Hosea (who helped her to fill out her applications and other forms) and her friends, Abigail went to university in her 30′s to get her degree. She graduated top of her class and now works full time in her local hospital, based mostly in the emergency room. From drunken brawlers to tearful children and grumpy old men with lumbago, Abigail has learnt to keep her cool and to have faith in her own ability.

Molly: holistic therapist and masseuse. It took years to get that bastard of a philosopher out of her head (and out of her bed - damn those happy hour drinks “for old times’ sake”), but she’s finally free. Molly radiates a kindness that few took to the time to see, and she wanted to take strength from her past struggles to help others who may need someone to listen, just as she did. Molly took a bunch of online courses in various holistic therapies, including aromatherapy and massage, as this was something she had always been interested in. She runs a tiny clinic on a quiet street, the rooms filled with sunshine and the scent of geraniums. She also has a quite popular ASMR YouTube channel, Emerald Eyes ASMR, which she shyly admits just reached 500k subscribers. Her most popular video, ‘Irish Girl Helps You Fall Asleep (soft spoken, tapping, mouth sounds)’ just reached over a million hits.

Kieran: veterinarian specialising in equine care. Much like Abigail, Kieran didn’t like the idea of going back into education. He’d had a rough time of it as a teenager, dropping out of high school early and working a string of menial jobs for the next decade. They paid his rent, but he still felt poor. His favourite job, however, was working at a stable. The horses made him feel calm and he found that he could read them better than most people. He went to the library and read as much as he could about them. From there, he got himself an apprenticeship which paved the way for him to earn his degree in veterinary science. He smiled so hard in his graduation photo his eyes disappeared into his cheeks. He travels all over the local countryside, visiting farms and ranches to care for the horses. His confidence picked up after the first few blunders, and little by little he’s saving up to buy his own ranch one day.

Lenny: political science student. You know that kid who always looks amazing, even in 9am lectures? Yeah, that’s not Lenny, but he’s sat just behind. See him? Yep, the one rubbing sleep from his eyes as he pushes through the effects of another all-nighter. It’s not due to procrastination, but from perfectionism. He spends hour agonising over references, appendixes and even titles. One time he was so tired he signed his work “Ynnel”. He’s completely in love with his course and relishes every class he takes. Oh, he’s taking Dutch’s ‘History of Western Philosophy’ module by the way. Sitting in the front row, middle seat, directly in front of Dutch, his eyes glinting wickedly. Poor Dutch. Lenny has a counterpoint for absolutely everything and can barely stifle his laughter as Dutch gets more and more flustered. He’s been dating Jenny Kirk, an English Lit student, for the past few months and it’s going well. So well in fact, that he might stop hiding his Doctor Who merchandise every time she comes to his dorm room.

Tilly: business student. Tilly started university at the same time as Lenny and they still always go to the library together, rolling their eyes at each other over their morning peppermint lattes. Tilly is at the forefront of any and all on-campus activism. Think of Sam from Dear White People - that’s our Tilly. She wears her Ravenclaw scarf all autumn and winter long and posts scathing Instagram stories about the cafeteria food. But she’s powerfully kind and very ambitious, taking on a part time job tutoring kids with dyslexia in their reading and writing.

Susan: midwife. Think having a baby is scary? Try crossing Nurse Grimshaw. She’s here now, and that baby is coming out of you one way or another. She’ll hold your hand through thick and thin but if you dare say “I can’t do it” one more time she’ll unleash hell. Susan will make sure everyone has a job to do. Partner just standing there like a lemon? Not on her watch. She’s harsh but kind to her trainees and will always offer a cup of coffee and a shoulder to cry on, but there’s a time and place for slacking and it’s not on her labour ward.

Trelawny: talent agent. Our Josiah is cunning, infuriatingly charismatic and with an eye for the best of the best - what else could he do so effortlessly? He’ll wrangle you a 10 second role as a latrine cleaner in a non-profit film and he’ll still make you feel like the next DiCaprio. You’re a diamond, don’t you know? Of course you could nab Elphaba, we’ll worry about the singing later. How do you feel about cat food commercials? No no, it’s not pornography, it really is cat food this time - he double checked. On top of this, he knows everyone in the business. No, really. He can’t move 3 feet down Broadway without someone booming his name. The tone of said boom depends, of course, but who hasn’t been caught with his bottom out in that director’s wife’s en-suite?

Sean: outdoor activity centre instructor. You mean you can actually get paid to swim in lakes, ride ziplines through the forest and eat roasted marshmallows?! Sean couldn’t believe his ears. But it was true, and he’s living his best life. He may be on his penultimate warning for unruly behaviour, but he knows he could never really get fired. How could they? Everyone loves him. And to his credit, he’s a fantastic instructor, especially with kids. Everything from canoeing to caving, wild swimming to climbing, Sean has mastered it all and he always makes it fun. No one is allowed to feel left out or silly for not being able to do something. Sean has a way of making everyone feel included, even if you can only make it up the first few rungs of the ladder. Hey, that’s still off the ground! He once knew this feller Bill who cried because a moth flew into his face. You’re doing fine.

Mary-Beth: librarian and YA author. Sweet Mary-Beth, how could she be anywhere else but surrounded by books? She adores her job at her small, local library and is always looking for ways to make it even better. She often gets tangled up in the stories she reads whilst organising shelves, but it’s quiet enough most days that she’s rarely caught. She loves helping people find their books or recommending her favourites. She also runs the toddler storytime groups and a writing club for older kids. Of course, she’s also writing her own books. The first of her ‘Valentine Mysteries’ books made a modest profit and she’s excited to write more about the adventures of Leslie Dupont.

Karen: actress. Realising that she had a knack for accents and even after an especially successful high school lead role as Roxy Hart, Karen didn’t really acknowledge her would-be passion for acting for a long time. But she used her talents to get herself and her friends into X-rated films, dive bars and successfully pull off dozens of prank calls. It wasn’t until one of her friends was going to an open-call audition for a short film and wanted someone to go with her that Karen had her epithany. She was cast on the spot, much to the dismay of her friend. Since then, she’s been in a handful of arthouse films, a commercial here and there, and recently enjoyed a short run as Hermia in A Midsummer Night’s Dream at a small theatre downtown. Does she want fame and fortune? Honestly, she hasn’t really thought about it. Right now, she’s just enjoying the ride. And the phone numbers left for her at front of house from many admirers.

Strauss: financial loan adviser. Oh boy, perhaps you saw this one coming. Then again, maybe not. Old Leopold isn’t quite the two-pronged-tongued eldritch horror people often mistake him for. In fact, he actually advises people against loan sharks. He had his fair share of debts y’see and he genuinely doesn’t want anyone else to go through the same thing. He’s not exactly sweet and cuddly, but he might let you have a free pen if you call by his office. I mean, technically they’re not free but...never mind, just take it.

Bill: plumber. It was purely accidental that Bill bashed his way into his career. No, really. His sink was blocked and after an hour of poking and prodding the pipes he started hitting the poor thing with a spanner out of pure frustration, cursing all the way. To his shock, it worked, and he suddenly had running water again. What shocked him more is that he realised he wanted to know how. So, he bought a book. And he read the book. And one thing led to another, and now he’s the proud owner of Williamson Plumbing Inc. The money is very good, but for Bill that’s not it. You have to understand that for him, it’s the act itself of fixing something that brings Bill immense satisfaction. And Bill isn’t used to knowing more about something - anything - than those around him. For the first time perhaps in his life, he can sit down, solve a problem, and know that he’s done a good job.

Swanson: AA group leader. After getting completely sober almost a decade ago and staying that way, Orville wanted to give something back to the people who had helped him out so greatly. Becoming a volunteer to help those who were trapped where he was seemed like the only path, and it felt so right. Orville is there in meetings, making coffee, handing out donuts and training new volunteers. If anyone wants to talk about their faith he’s all ears, but he never pushes it as a cure-all in any situation. Orville’s sobriety has also meant that he’s learnt to make the most phenomenal mocktails.

Pearson: grocery shop manager and cooking teacher. Simon has his small grocery shop on the edge of town which has a wide range of regular customers. But he wanted to do more, so he set up a small class to teach fellow veterans how to cook. His wife helps out, and they grow the ingredients together in their garden and down at the allotment. It’s just an therapeutic for him as it is for his students, as he’s only just realising how much he wants to talk about his time in the navy.

Uncle: unknown. For the longest time, everyone thought Uncle worked at one of the worst dive bars in town, as whenever they stumbled in for a nightcap he was there, behind the bar, happy as a pig in shit. Turns out that he just started going there one night and no one could get him to leave. And so every evening he’ll appear like a phantom, sit himself in the half-broken chair behind the bar (clearly labelled “not for customer use”), order the cheapest beer on the menu and sit there until midnight. No one can understand how he gets the means to live as he ragingly denies receiving any government handouts despite his lumbago. Claims to be a veteran but hasn’t fought in any wars anyone has heard of.

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evandearest · 3 years

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The Garden of Eden | Part IV: Betrayal

Pairing: James March x reader (you) | ~Part: (4/4)~

Summary (Part Four): Warnings are to be remembered, although most stored away for future use only to be forgotten. Cycles repeat to teach lessons; to warn of future events. Threats may remain even if not for the blind eye to see. However, ignorance might be the biggest threat of all.

Warnings (in this part): murder, blood, death, poison, religious twists, dark themes

Word Count: 5,018 (haha this part ended up with the most words... to end it off I suppose!)

Notes: This is the last part of the Garden of Eden! I just want to say thank you to all who read - especially @etoile-writings , for supporting me. Please go check out her series Adam and Eve, as it is a literary masterpiece and she deserves so much recognition.

I have seriously had so much fun writing this - it really has been my pleasure. I also want to apologize to all those who may have been waiting for awhile for the final part! Disclaimer: I tried my best to edit the grammar and everything in this but this is the best I could do! I hope there’s not many mistakes I may have missed. Please ask any questions and give me all your comments about this finale - I’d love to hear any and all thoughts! I also hope everyone is safe, healthy, and happy :) Feel free to send in other requests, whether it be AHS or Supernatural.

Also a heads up - keep a look out for the final review and analysis if you are interested. It is still in progress but it should be out within a couple of days at best.

A few side notes - the Countess and James are still legally married here, as they are in the show, but in this situation it is only because they haven’t gotten the chance to divorce. This part may seem to have very long sentences, but I just wanted to let you guys know that it is a writing technique that I used to create mood, tone, and theme. That’s all, thanks!

Tag List: @etoile-writings @haileyybird @ietss

Something about the young couple in the bar had your mind reeling. Their hands remained interlocked on the table, both of them staring at one another with all the joy and adoration that only true love can bring. Their relationship was new and exciting. The honeymoon phase was always so perfect. You remembered how that had felt with James; so invigoratingly energizing. It was enough to make you feel as if you ruled the world; love blinding a vision of truth. It was, for many years, what you had considered paradise to be.

Paradise.

You realized now that it never had been perfect with you and James. There were so many things standing in the way, so many hidden threats. When you were younger, it had been your parents and their obsessive need to marry you off like an object to a rich man. Even as he had began his journey to success, James’ social status as new money hadn’t seemed good enough to them. When you had first gotten back with James only just around a month ago, you had thought that you’d conquered everything. You had been blind to the truth which was right in front of you once again. You should have expected some kind of change in James. It was inevitable, after all that time spent apart.

But now, however, right at this present moment... well, now, everything was out in the open. Now, you and James truly understood one another. Now there really was nothing in your way. You could see no obstacles ahead, no threat, so long as James was by your side. All you saw was James, and all that clouded your mind was your admiration and devotion to him. He was your everything; your soulmate, your leader, your God. He had dragged you from the fire and brought your paradise back to you; good, true, and everlasting this time around. Your precious Garden of Eden, controlled by none other but you and your God.

Your God; who had been the utmost of clever in his recent schemes. He’d been outraged when he did it, but it wasn’t to say that he wasn’t brilliant. He was of excellent prosecution; his statement out in the open and clear. A Sunday morning: police finding piles of dead bodies compiled with numerous copies of nothing other than the book of God himself. It was sadistic and morbid, but it was perfect. It was everything that James needed to say. He was on the verge of something momentously renowned.

Once James was finished, no one would ever forget his message: religion was the worst thing to happen to society. It controlled the will of man, when truly nothing in creation could stop anything. Everyone was put equal on the Earth to sin, to live in the most pleasurable way.

It was the entire reason Adam and Eve had been cast down. They were sinners, except the garden was a place controlled by God’s rules. They had wanted to control their own lives, so God banished them to Earth. James, however, had created his own paradise; his own Garden of Eden. He had climbed so far above all other men that he now controlled the garden. He had to prove to others the ridiculousness of holiness--for all were meant to sin. Religion was, essentially, suppression. To some, it may seem horrible, but to you, it was art. A simple expression of belief that most didn’t understand.

Voices floated into your ears, startling you out of your thoughts. Soft echoes through the lobby of your beloved’s name piqued your interest, your feet immediately carrying you to the railing without much thought. You left your drink on the bar’s counter--still full, but long forgotten. Your eyes landed on four men clad in black suits, shiny gold badges on their shoulders reflecting light from the chandeliers above. You scanned the area, noticing a certain maid standing close by, listening in, much like you were.

“We have suspicion based upon evidence that Mr. March was involved in the murder this past Sunday. We have already taken the time to get a warrant for his arrest,” one of the officers explained to the receptionist at the front desk. Time seemed to take a standstill, your heart seeming to stop completely as your brain registered the man’s words. No, this couldn’t be happening.

The cycle was repeating again. They were trying to tear you apart again.

You didn’t understand how this could’ve happened. He said he was careful, and you could never see James making a mistake with something this important. He was detail-oriented, his brain practically ran off of the certainty of perfectionism. He would never let a small mistake ruin everything for him.

The entire empire he’d built, and everything you’d rebuilt, was about to be destroyed all over again.

Your body seemed to catch up with your mind as you sprung into action. You twisted around, your feet pushing you forward only to come to a halt at the close proximity of the once unknown presence behind you. Your eyes widened, a sharp breath escaping your lips at the stop you made compared to your sudden momentum. You stared into the eyes of none other than The Countess, clad in only the most extravagant clothing and makeup.

“That’ll be a hard one to get out of,” she said, although her face was seemingly expressionless. You stared at her, your frenzied brain jumping to the first conclusion you could make.

“Did you...” you trailed off, your breathing suddenly heavy. James couldn’t have made the mistake, so that means that somebody else had to of given the police some kind of tip in order for them to seek James out. The woman standing before you was quite possibly the number one suspect. “Did you do this?” Your voice held tones of disbelief and anger.

Would Elizabeth really go to such extent when she hadn’t even expressed a major disliking? She hadn’t talked to you at all since that first time, in fact the only interactions you’d had with one another were passing glances. She’d seemed to have just steered clear of anything to do with you or James. You had no idea what she had thought, but you had supposed that she didn’t care about you and James, otherwise she would have spoke her concerns. Had you been wrong about her? Could a simple mistake end it all over again? Elizabeth scoffed, her face hardening.

“Oh God no...” she said wryly, a small sarcastic grin forming on her lips as she looked at you quizzically, “what would I get out of it now? As I am still his present wife, I don’t need James dead to use his money. And besides, now that he has you he no longer bothers me.” She was smug as she spoke to you. She grinned, all teeth and mischief, her eyes sparkling. “It’s a winning situation for the both of us if you ask me.” She paused, her grin falling slightly as her gaze wondered off to peer down into the lobby.

“I could bet I know who the rat is, though,” She said, turning back to you. “I’m wagering it’s his loyal minion. That poor woman has been in love with James since the beginning of time.” She paused, her eyes intense as they rested on your face. “And based on your expression you think so too.” She smiled at you and then turned, walking slowly away from you. “Good luck,” she called back to you without turning around, your eyes watching her back as she went.

You stood contemplating her words for a moment. Elizabeth was smart and straightforward, and from what you could tell if she had a problem she would speak her mind. And what she had said made sense. Miss Evers was in love with James, but her love was unrequited, and that’s why she constantly seemed at odds with you. She could never even have a chance to be with him, so long as you were around.

Your feet carried you quickly as you raced to the elevator. The police were still conversing with the receptionist, but you knew it was only a matter of time before they found out where James was. You recalled a conversation you’d had with him in the morning, concluding that he had to be caught up attending to his hobby.

The police would find him in his office, in the middle of his business, and it would all be over. He would be taken from you once again.

You didn’t even knock upon arriving; you opened the door and closed it quickly behind you. You turned to face James, in all his blood-covered, god-like glory. You took in the scene of James’ office quickly, your eyes tracing over every detail. A large bin sat in the center of the room, a rugged corpse contained within it. James had been busying himself with pouring a substance over the body, of which could only be acid, as it had sizzled upon impact with the dead man’s skin. At your arrival, James halted his methods in confusion.

Several items were scattered across the floor, one of which catching your interest. The glass of the vase; a damp spot surrounding the area where the unaltered mess remained. The roses remained too, the petals wilting from lack of nourishment. You paused, your mind trying to puzzle out their unmoved position. Miss Evers had to have been in here since last night, so why wouldn’t she move them? She might have been scheming, but she was extremely adamant on being neat when it came to James’ specific rooms. You couldn’t see her ignoring it, and yet here it was sitting puzzlingly. You were caught off guard for a reason not entirely known to you. Something about their appearance had you alarmed, a string of words suddenly ringing out in your head; perhaps a memory brought to the surface.

“If you betray the rose, the rose no longer profits you.”

The old woman was suddenly prevalent in your mind, her warning dawning upon you, your heartbeat stuttering at the looming echo of her words. James was waiting for you to explain yourself--the police were coming--Miss Evers had betrayed you--everything you and James had worked so hard for was crumbling down around you. Your heartbeat was fast, the pulse beating quickly, perhaps the reason for the pounding in your head.

You looked James in the eyes, studying his features. He was so handsome--even before you knew him, that day in the garden when you had first seen him--you had marveled at his beauty. And that was before he’d become such a man; his features sharp and masculine, beautifully sculpted by the gods. His dark brown eyes and hair, so dull yet so prominent--a symbol of his darkness. You could stare at him for eternity and never bore, your love for him everlasting.

And yet, here you were at the end with no escape, hell a threat once again hanging above your heads, looming just around the corner. Just a few more minutes and everything would be over. Just a few more minutes and you’d be lost again, stranded without your guide; your purpose--your God.

“James,” you gasped, stumbling slightly as you made your way to him. You’d just managed to get to him before you fell over slightly, your arms reaching out to grasp onto his tightly. He caught you, keeping you level as his face filled with concern. The pounding in your head was intense, beginning to drown out your thoughts and quicken your breath.

“Darling, tell me--what is it?” James demanded, his voice panic-stricken. He lifted your chin to look you in the eyes, his widened orbs meeting yours with intensity.

“I-it’s--the- the police,” you barely managed to get the words out, clinging onto James like he was your lifeline. Nothing seemed right; your thoughts suddenly taking too long to form into words, your breathing heavy, vision blurry, and it was becoming much harder to stand. What was happening? You stared into James eyes, shifting all your focus into him. “They’re here to arrest you.” One hand gripped his arm firmly as you brought the other to rest upon his cheekbone, leaning chest to chest as your body began to collapse into him. He held you steady, forever the one and only thing to truly support you. “They’re going to take you from me,” you sobbed, an onslaught of tears overcoming you. “Again,” you cried quietly, gasping for air.

The door opened, your heart skipping a beat at the intrusion, your mind going straight to the thought of the police. Your eyes landed on Miss Evers instead, confusion settling on you once again. She’d gotten what she wanted, hadn’t she? Why was she here now, to prove something? You wished you had the strength to question her, to say anything, but everything felt heavier and heavier as more time passed.

“Tell me,” James barked at her just as she’d closed and locked the door, “what in all creation is happening? Speak right this instant, and quickly.”

“The police are here,” Miss Evers explained, James grip on you tightening as you leaned onto him for support. He glanced down at you, worry glinting in his eyes as you just barely managed to look up at him.

“Darling,” he whispered, “what is happening? Are you ill?” A moment of silence passed as you tried to respond, your mouth opening but no words becoming audible. A moment of silence passed, the only action being James assessing you. Your words couldn’t seem to form, a burning spreading through your entire body. It was unlike anything you’d ever felt. You began to wonder yourself if you were somehow ill.

“It was supposed to be me!”

The maid across the room suddenly shrieked, desperation clouding her judgement as she flung her arms up in the air. “I was the one for you!” She sobbed, stumbling slightly as an expression of hurt formed upon her face. “I always loved you, and these women--they never did! They used you, and I always cared!” James eyes widened, shock coming across his features. He stared at the woman, contemplating her words.

“But you never saw,” the woman said sadly, her head hanging in shame before her face went emotionless. “And so I did the only thing I could.” She looked at him, dead in the eye, a type of malice suddenly overcoming her. “You’d be surprised how easy it was.” Her eyes settled upon your frame, your head moving slowly to get a glance at her. You stared, blinking rapidly as your vision faded in and out. You could barely comprehend what she was saying, but you felt as James’ breath quickened. It was taking all of your willpower to stay awake--you needed to, for James.

“What?” he stated, his voice deeper than you’d ever heard it, a rage within his eyes even you had never seen before as he stared at her. He was tense, as hard as a rock, glaring daggers at the woman who had seemingly betrayed him.

“I--,” Miss Evers hesitated, obviously intimidated by his fury, but decided to continue. “I’ve found that you have a secret stash of cyanide in the bar.” She faltered once again, her eyes shifting away from James and to the floor. “I wanted us to be together, and she-” she pointed at you, “-she was always in it for the money! They all are, all but me!” She burst into tears, falling onto her knees in hysterics. Your eyebrows furrowed as you racked your brain to gather all of the information. She poisoned you at the bar. You remembered brief flashbacks of the one tiny sip you’d taken of your previously forgotten drink.

James seemed to be shaking as he gently moved you to sit in a chair by the wall, turning away from you for only a moment. Your eyelids began to flutter as sleep beckoned you, visions of James’ movement around the room the only thing to hold your focus. A loud pop suddenly reverberated off of the walls as it rang out, causing you to sit up slightly from your slouched posture, your eyelids flying open to search for the source. James stood over the body of his betrayer, smoking gun resting within his palm.

You felt so weak, your thoughts jumbled, unable to focus on only one. Only now you knew it wasn’t just an overreaction. You’d only taken a mere sip of the drink from the bar, but you supposed now that it had been enough for the poison to go into effect. You wondered briefly how she’d gotten the cyanide into the drink in the first place, and exactly how much she had put in for it to have such a potent effect on your body.

Your eyes traveled to her corpse, and to the fresh blood splattered across the wall from the headshot. You blinked, barely registering what had just occurred before you. You were too dazed to process the incident, even if you understood what had occurred subconsciously. Relief was the only thing you felt; relief for one less thing to worry about standing between you and James.

Eyes shifting slightly to the left, you stared at the browning roses, the sweet old lady’s warning once again echoing, a distant memory brought to the surface of your mind. James crouched in front of you, suddenly the only thing in line of sight, his lips moving but you couldn’t hear his voice over your own in your head. The roses were dead. You left them on the floor. You betrayed them for--

You sprung up once again as a loud banging at the door shocked you back into your senses. James glanced briefly at the door before turning back to you quickly. He pulled you out of the chair, holding you up and close to his chest as he stroked your hair tenderly.

“James,” you just barely whispered as he shushed you.

“I know, darling,” He said reassuringly, pulling back to look into your eyes. “It’s all going to be okay, dear. It’ll all be over before you know it.” He smiled charmingly as you nodded weakly, holding tightly onto the cloth of his shirt to maintain stability. And you believed him in that moment, as he always seemed to find a way.

One way, or another.

You rested your head on his chest, closing your eyes as the pounding on the door increased. Or maybe it was the pounding in your head; at this point you couldn’t decipher what was real and what was just a figment of your imagination. Cold metal pressed against the skin of your temple, your brain too bleary to question it. Mere seconds passed as you contemplated moving, but suddenly it was as if everything had settled away. James’ warm body faded from your grasp.

-🤍-

Your eyelids fluttered open, eyeballs moving back and forth as you tried to become familiar with your surroundings. You recognized the familiar room immediately, for it was your bedroom when you had first moved into the Cortez. You felt strange. Zen, almost, but maybe that was just because the pounding was gone. You felt... disconnected. It was the most out of touch with yourself you’d ever felt.

You climbed to your feet from the floor, thoughts running rampant at what was unknown to you. Where was James, how did you get here, how long had you been here, and why did you feel so cold? Flashes of what seemed to be both years ago and only moments ago clouded your mind, filling you with dread. Scenarios of what could be frightened you and sent you into a state of panic, pushing you forward.

Out of the room you went, through the quiet and empty halls, searching, searching, searching--no fixed destination ahead except something, anything, that could lead you to your James.

It seemed that days had passed before you finally found the lobby of the hotel. Navigation through the building was proving to be much more difficult than you remembered. Why was it taking so long?

The lobby was sparsely populated, unlike the usually crowded area that you were used to. You glanced around, noticing only a few people in the bar, the receptionist, and someone asleep on the sofas. Your feet carried you to the hotel entrance, pushing the first door open, the sunlight peeking through the opaque glass surprising you. If it was the daytime, then why was the hotel so empty? On ordinary occasions people came and went like flies; the Cortez was a hotspot in the city of Los Angeles, after all. Your hands reached out to push open the door to the outside, the metal handle of the door cool against your skin, and then suddenly nothing. In front of you was the door no longer; profound confusion coursing through you as you stared at the walls of your bedroom once again. You had been there one second, and in the next it was as if you had been teleported back in time.

And so the cycle repeated for what seemed like years; many times set adrift through the halls, eventually to the lobby where the sunlight no longer shone through the windows and unusually few people inhabited. You were reaching forward for the handle of the first door for what seemed to be the hundredth time, only to freeze at the call of your name from a familiar voice.

“Y/N.”

Your name sounded of honey dripping off his tongue. It was like hearing that voice for the first time again. All your worries deflated and anxieties subsided--for you had found your God once again. You turned to face him, to see his face--the face you had longed to see for what felt like years but may have been minutes. You still didn’t entirely understand the detachment from your body you felt; it was as if you no longer had a life source, no blood running course or lungs cycling air. You felt out of place and trapped at the same time.

Just as your hopes had soared, they plummeted at the sight of the bare lobby. Emptiness sat instead where you had expected James to be, crushing all sense of direction. You wanted to cry, to scream, to tear the hotel to shreds with your bare hands. But just before you gave up all hope completely, your eyes caught on the tiniest of details.

Barely noticeable, unless payed close attention to; unless already a prominent object in one’s mind. Small, dainty, white petals lay scattered in high correlation, leading on to an unknown but obviously specific destination. You treaded lightly as you followed the path closely, afraid any disturbance would somehow make them disappear.

Unease settled through you, possibly just a usual feeling as of late, but considerably appropriate when meeting the isolate hallways once again. You began questioning your sanity; was this just yet another repeat in the cycle? You’d been lost for so long, was this just another loop? What was the energy here, and why did it not feel like you and James’ beloved Cortez, the place you called home? You felt like you were stuck in a punishment of some kind; a purgatory; a hell.

And at last, you arrived; the room in which this cycle had began, or ended. The office of James Patrick March: Room sixty-four. You paused, contemplating, before making a bold decision and gripping the handle, opening the door and entering the room. There you stood in what was once James’ office, now empty of most furniture, only few items remaining. And there it remained: the vase on the table in the center of the room, petals leading straight to their source.

Inside sat the very white roses themselves, southern California glory and all. They looked just like the ones in that very first garden: huge, bright and beaming, petals spread with all the beauty and radiance of nature and purity. And just behind them stood their God; the master of the garden who held the utmost control in his realm. Your God, who’d saved you from hell; who’d broke all cycles.

The feeling you felt at sight of James did not fail to excite you just the same as it had on that first day years ago. Something about his presence next to yours soothed you, for you knew that he was still there, that he hadn’t been taken from you, that no matter what had happened you were still okay so long as he stood next to you.

You rushed forward and into him, basking in his embrace. His arms wrapped around you, but the challenge once again presented itself: an unignorably apparent absence of warmth. It’d been just before you’d first woken up what seemed like years, or maybe just hours ago, that you’d been in his embrace just the same, his warmth seeping into you and igniting your soul as you had faded in and out of consciousness. But now, you couldn’t feel it. You felt his body wrapped around yours, but nothing inflaming, the detachment from your own warmth just the same. It was missing, a shell of a comfort that used to always be present; something you had gotten entirely used to, for to be absent of warmth was to be dead...

You gasped, pulling away from James to look him in the eyes, the reality setting in and the drunkenness fading away. Your mind was becoming clear, all clarity suddenly bestowed upon you.

“James, are we...” you froze in panic, for it felt as if you didn’t have lungs, the normal rise and fall of the simplicity of breathing gone... the feelings of life were all gone...

And it clicked.

“James,” you whispered, your eyes tracing over the details of the room. The blood stains on the floor and walls were the only evidence of foul play left. You felt strange, for people didn’t normally expect to see the place of their death after the fact. Realizations settled over you as you stared at the room, just as you had initially when entering to warn James of the police, the truth of the events that had happened finally dawning upon you. In your poison-induced state of mind, it’d been hard to realize. You had been dying, the poison slowly but surely shutting your body down. You’d barely processed it when James had held the gun to your head and pulled the trigger, ending your pain.

“Yes, darling?” James replied to you, bringing you back to your conversation. You stared at him longingly. Although you didn’t entirely understand why you were still here, or the concept of the afterlife, you were glad to have James next to you. A moment of silence passed as you tried to pinpoint what you wanted to ask him exactly.

“I have so many questions,” you said, deciding to just speak your mind. You furrowed your eyebrows, blinking rapidly as you tried to sort out your thoughts. “I-I’m so lost, James.”

“Of course you are, dearest,” James said reassuringly, his hand brushing the stray hairs away from your face. He stared at you sadly. “I’m terribly sorry for all that happened, you must feel perplexed beyond understanding my dear.” He paused, his eyes traveling over your features as you stared up at him, listening intently. “This was simply my only choice, darling. You were succumbing to the poison’s grip long before I finished your pain. Miss Evers...” He trailed off, his jaw clenching tightly. “Nevermind that. I came to a conclusion upon the authorities’ arrival, and that was that if I was damned to be put away I might as well flee with you, my queen... it was the only right option.” He smiled down at you softly.

You smiled right back at him, your love for him the only warmth left inside of you now that you no longer had your body to call home. You basked in the feeling of being close to him as he pulled you to his chest, his lips leaving a soft kiss against your scalp. Even if you didn’t feel warmth, simply the love you had for him was enough. He tenderly stroked your back, calming your nerves. It amazed you how he could ease your mind so easily, if only just a little. However, you couldn’t shake your thoughts away. Sure, you could just let it all go, but the truth of the matter was simple.

Your entire life had been a cycle. A cycle of undeniable foolishness; you’d been ignorant of the truth for all of your living years. Oh, how it angered you. You hated something truly for what seemed like the first time in your life. You hated yourself; you’d let yourself believe false truths just to live in an illusion that you thought was happiness. You were naïve. And ultimately, that was what had ended you.

You’d ignored all warnings and left the roses to wilt, betraying the one thing that had always been on your side. You’d ignored all threats and committed yourself to making paradise in the land of the evil; it was simply impossible. The Garden of Eden wasn’t a place for the living. It was a place of freedom, and so long as you’re living, you can never truly be free. For in life, one threat always remains: death. You could never truly be protected. You could never truly have paradise.

But with James, in the Cortez, in the paradise he’d created for you... even death didn’t stand a chance. It was a gateway to greatness; a place where nothing truly stood in your way, where no threats were great enough. You couldn’t be harmed, or imprisoned, or separated here; you were finally utterly invincible; real Gods. Hell and Earth were no longer a threat. It was your true paradise that James had promised you.

Your Garden of Eden.

---------

Series Masterlist: The Garden of Eden Series

Main Masterlist

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coulson-is-an-avenger · 3 years

Note

jade & Serena hugging 4?

Serenade hugging #4 - comforting hugs. AAAAAA TY FOR THIS ONE SAHAR THIS WAS A REALLY REALLY FUN PROMPT FOR THEM UWU🥺

Slight context for this snippet bc these are ocs lol: Jade and Serena are both anomalies (aka people with some sort of supernatural ability), who are currently living together with a couple other similar folks to avoid Discovery™️. Serena is basically an empath, and Jade can manipulate darkness (most relevantly; to hide herself). They’re also pining idiots pls enjoy

It isn’t that hard to find Jade once Serena knows how to look.

Maybe it’s practice, maybe instinct, or maybe it’s the humming power beneath Serena’s skin that broadcasts her peers’ emotions into her head like a broken radio, a skill that admittedly, makes it much easier to track down a woman wrapped in shadows.

Jade’s emotions in particular have always been a particularly interesting subject to Serena. As much as Jade excels in hiding her physical form when so desired, her emotions have never been difficult to access, and Serena has found that she always carries her feelings so tightly, so protectively, as if she can’t bear to let anyone else know how deeply they exist.

Jade thinks of herself as the leader of their little cell of outcasts, Serena knows, and as much as they all look up to her for it, it also makes her very anxious to appear too… affected. She can’t bear to slip up, and the perfectionism follows her, quite fittingly, like a shadow.

Serena’s grown to know the tug of it well, and, over time, she’s learned how to follow it. To trace the echo of Jade’s evergreen courage even after she disappears from sight, following the footprints of her isolation and her responsibility and her fortitude and her quiet pride. She follows it now, breathing in the lingering trace of her friend’s heart, and letting her feet follow.

She breathes in deeply as she comes to a stop before the panel leading up to the roof of the apartment, readying herself for the climb. She supposes this little escapade makes sense; Jade has always loved the stars.

Once she tugs herself up onto the rooftop, she looks around, feeling the echo much closer now, and yet still not seeing the woman she seeks. She does her best to focus, honing in on the sensations as they exist presently, and steps forward, approaching a section of the roof, tucked up right beside a protruding wall that houses another story of apartments.

The emotion in the air goes taught as she approaches, squeezing with fear, but then Serena whispers Jade’s name into the silence, her voice gentle as can be, and the anxiety dissipates like fog in the sunlight.

There’s a small chuckle, a warm exhale of sound, and then the shadows unwrap from around Jade’s shoulders, darkness falling away to reveal the shape of her, tucked in the corner. She wipes the lingering ink of the night from her hands and looks up, revealing a dark brown face and kind, weary eyes. Her eyes are always so dark, Serena notes, dark enough as to be nearly black, no matter the lighting. And oh, how those eyes always see her.

“Serena,” Jade says, holding her name like it’s precious, cupped in those kind palms.

Serena takes a seat next to the extraordinary woman on the tiles of the roof, and looks out at the sky.

“I thought you might be up here,” She says, quietly. “Stargazing?”

Jade looks at her for a long moment before her eyes dart away and she curls her knees up to her chest.

“Something like that. How do you always find me like this? That’s not something many people can do.” She’s trying to derail, to delay the inevitable, but Serena can’t help but answer her.

“Comes with the trade, I think. Feelings can be sort of like a beacon.” She shrugs slightly, drawing her own legs closer.

Jade nods, exhaling a snort. “Makes sense. Not even Blake knows how to keep up with me like this.”

Serena smiles. “Well, someone has to pick up his slack.”

Jade pffts and smiles, and the silence that falls over them is companionable while it lasts. For a moment there’s just the pair of them, shoulder to shoulder, sharing the autumn breeze.

Jade finally sighs and looks resolutely away.

“I was just… worried,” She admits, so quietly it’s almost hard to catch. “You can see the police and scientists from here, you know, the people who wanna pick apart our brains and- and blame all their problems on our gifts,” She looks down at her hands, holds them close to her. “I’m not worried for me, though. I’m good at escaping things like that, always have been, but there’s, there’s three of you now, and I don’t— what if I can’t—”

“Jade,” Serena lets the name fall like a prayer, interrupts Jade’s shuddering breath. “You aren’t responsible for us, you know that. We trust you, sure, I know I-” Her voice quiets without her permission. “I’d follow you anywhere, but you don’t have to carry that weight. None of us asked you to.”

Jade hugs her knees to her chest, shakes her head and rocks gently. “I know. But if I don’t…” She shakes her head, ventures on. “I’m so used to losing family. I don’t want to lose you too.”

Serena aches for her, feeling the pooling depth of loss that stretches down into the core of Jade’s history, the loss that has swallowed up so much of her life. Serena reaches out and takes her hand.

“You won’t lose us, Jade.” She smoothes her thumb over the woman’s knuckles, moving back and forth, brushing against her ace ring every now and then. “And you’re not alone. You won’t be.”

Jade turns her eyes on Serena with such a cautious reverence that it freezes Serena in place, and then strong arms are around her waist, and Serena’s sliding her hands over the gorgeous planes of Jade’s back, and Jade’s cheek is pressed against her own, breath hitching against her chest, and Serena closes her eyes and pours every bit of love she has into the embrace, squeezing the other woman and hoping she can feel just how loved she is for her vulnerability, not just her strength.

“Thank you,” Jade whispers into her hair, just a breath, before pulling back from the embrace and steadying herself on Serena’s shoulders. Serena frees a hand from behind Jade’s back to reach up and take one of her hands and press a careful kiss to it; meeting Jade’s eyes as she does so, her own expression reverential.

Serena fancies she can feel a flicker of affection in Jade’s heart as the woman blinks and then nods, bringing her kissed hand to her chest and holding it there, cupped against her heart.

“Not alone,” Jade says quietly, her words the echo of a promise she had given to Serena when they first met, and Serena is happy to gift the words back with open arms.

“Never alone.” She agrees.

#answered #touch prompts #mossy ocs #my writing #me writing this whole thing: oh my god please kiss already #oughough i love them your honor #the inherent homoromanticism of stargazing and opening up abt ur feelings #liminal #(that’s my book tag that i never use lol)#original character #wlw characters

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thelightofthingshopedfor · 4 years

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well, if my first ADHD-related appointment with a therapist was kind of validating in confirming that I have this thing I think I have and yes it’s a problem, today’s appointment with a nurse practitioner who can actually prescribe stuff was...kind of invalidating? not even materially so, I mean she said I meet the criteria for ADHD and she wrote me a prescription for Adderall with instructions to start at a very low dose and gradually increase to see what happens, and she scheduled another appointment with me in a few weeks to check back, and it basically all seemed fine at the time, but--

well, she also said it didn’t sound like a severe case, and that at least some of what I was describing was just kind of what modern life is like for everybody, and when I said I figured my ADHD is at the root of a lot of my anxiety and depression she was pretty quick to tell me that’s not how it works until I explained the--in hindsight pretty fucking obvious--connection that a lot of my depression stems from feeling like a failure in ways that are probably caused by ADHD, and a lot of my anxiety stems from how I’m constantly forgetting things and sometimes I can’t hold onto a thought long enough to write it down and I get overwhelmed easily because I can’t prioritize, etc. etc. etc.

and like, again, I don’t think it really...matters? she’s not the one I’ll really be talking with, for the most part, and they’re in the same office so if my actual therapist is picking up on things that the nurse practitioner isn’t, they can, should, and probably will discuss my case between themselves. all I really need from the woman I saw today is the willingness to write prescriptions and work with me to find the right dose/medication and I have that, I literally have an Adderall prescription now and she perfectly willing to do medication management with me. so that’s all good.

but basically as soon as I left the building, my brain started chewing on it and wouldn’t let go, because shit, I didn’t really emphasize my procrastination and perfectionism enough, did I? especially with examples from college and grad school? I mean I talked about it but did I talk enough about how my brain just kind of divides things into “now” and “not now” and if something either can’t be done now or isn’t due now, I can’t feel the urgency needed to make me actually do it? or the self-loathing spiral I get into every time I fuck up? or how I do fuck up, all the time, except now I can’t think of concrete examples? I said I had a hard time falling asleep and staying asleep and I never feel rested but did I say that it’s at least sometimes because my brain won’t shut off? or how something relatively minor but negative will happen and my brain sinks its teeth in and won’t let go? or how slow I am at work? did I emphasize enough how much I need to externalize my brain or I completely forget things, I mean I know I talked about it but apparently it sounded somewhat normal? I should’ve told her how often I get hit with interest charges and late fees on my credit cards because I can’t remember to pay them, or...how I got this character in a game and I had two entire months to level her up but doing so involved active playing so I kept putting it off and when time was running out I really sincerely meant to do it and then I just kept forgetting, and obviously that wasn’t a genuinely important thing but maybe it still would’ve been a good illustration? or how my room is a disaster and part of that is because of the earthquake way back in Nov. 2018? or how I keep buying posters and prints but never putting them on my walls, and starting projects I never finish even when they’re relatively quick and easy? (wait, I did talk about that though, didn’t I?) or how I have to write everything down in my planner but there are times when I still somehow forget to look at it, or how I write tons of to-do lists but never cross off most of the things on them and after a little while I forget the to-do list exists in the first place unless it’s constantly in front of my face? or how sometimes extremely basic shit just straight-up doesn’t occur to me until it’s too late? or how I think I don’t regulate my emotions very well? or how miserable it makes me that I feel like I never finish anything or accomplish even very basic goals? or how I am almost never on time, ever, in part because my sense of time is just kind of terrible? or my executive dysfunction, fuck, that’s definitely a thing and I never used those words either, I mean I talked about how I can’t get myself to fucking start things but maybe if I’d used the term...? and fuck, maybe she’s right and my brain is actually not that fucked up, it’s actually way closer to normal than I’ve been thinking, which I guess just means I’m a lazy piece of shit who can’t accomplish anything...but she said I meet the criteria for ADHD, and I keep reading all these articles and posts about it and going “oh shit that explains so much about my brain,” and obviously I’ve had like two decades to figure out some coping strategies so my various dysfunctions don’t completely ruin my life all the time, and sure I haven’t been fired because of things I can confidently blame on ADHD but that doesn’t mean it isn’t negatively affecting my life, and it’s not like she actually said “nah you’re making this up, fuck off” or anything, she said I meet the criteria and she wrote me a fucking prescription for Adderall, but if she thinks it’s a relatively minor case and a lot of the things I struggle with sound normal to her, then maybe I’m making a big deal out of nothing and I need to just suck it up and be better somehow, and maybe medication isn’t even going to help because there’s nothing that wrong in the first place except for me being a fuckup—

and around and around it goes. it’s...I mean, again, it’s probably not really a huge deal. I have another appointment with her for medication management, and I have the prescription, and I have more appointments with the therapist who did seem to take it more seriously. and this one did say I meet the criteria. but honestly the way my brain has been chewing on this for the last few hours is...well, probably indicative of something.

oh, you know what else was funny actually, she also informed me that if I was prescribed Adderall in grad school then I had to have been formally diagnosed, because otherwise it absolutely couldn’t have been prescribed to me. and I guess when the original dose didn’t seem to do much for me I just...stopped taking it and didn’t go back for more, and we didn’t really revisit the issue, and the records probably didn’t get transferred to my next counselor because I guess it never occurred to anybody to ask, and she eventually thought maybe I’m on the autism spectrum because I said I don’t like eye contact but ADHD didn’t occur to her either, and I just. fucking forgot? that I was formally diagnosed with ADHD probably an entire decade ago? so over the past 2-3 years as I’ve become increasingly convinced that ADHD hellbrain causes a lot of my problems, I was coming to it as brand new information because I literally fucking forgot that I had already been diagnosed? like...fuck, man, I’m no expert but that seems like kind of a weird memory thing too! which she definitely knew about because I was surprised when she told me I had to have been diagnosed! so I mean! if we’re talking about a disorder that involves memory issues, forgetting about an entire diagnosis because it wasn’t right in front of my face seems like pretty fucking good evidence that I have memory issues!

#adhd #brains behaving badly

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