#which is fine! but (and maybe this is my tendency to be harsh on myself) a bit corny even by my standards | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

witchthewriter · 2 years

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Hiiii! First of all, I really have to say that I admire all your work, such interesting reads.

I am 10000% down a house of the dragon-rabbit hole now (which is why I made a tumblr in the first place), so that is my main fandom, if you would put a bit more emphasis on this part it would be greatly appreciated. Other fandoms would be GoT and HP.

I use she/her pronouns, I have a preference for men (or masc-presenting people of any gender). I am a slytherin, possibly ravenclaw? Cancer sun, Aries moon, Cancer rising. ENTJ with very strong ENT-tendencies, and J/P being about 51/49 hehe. Half Scandinavian and half South East-Asian, tanned skin, long and straight dark brown hair reaching below my waist. My favorite colors are red, black and green.

A common first impression of me is that I am bold and outspoken, but I am in reality quite sensitive and self-conscious, albeit this being concealed deep down. I don’t think I have a shy bone in my body though, 100% outgoing. I am super ambitious, competitive and goal driven. I set extremely high standards and goals for myself and I have much higher expectations/demands for myself than for anyone else, in order to always improve. I love a good fiery discussion, argument or a witty mental-sparring but one of my faults is that I sometimes become too into winning the argument no matter what, being the competitive person that I am. Perfectionist as I am, I always try to be calculated and choose my words carefully though. I don’t think there is a person I wouldn’t stand up to or take a discussion with, I just can’t help myself. But there is also no situation where I wouldn’t let my thoughts linger and overthink the argument and feel insecure for weeks later, behind closed doors.

I am super a very passionate person, about my goals and relationships alike, but I am also very nurturing and caring for both animals and humans. I am very loving and affectionate to the people close to me. Although at times I can come across as harsh, I really do love supporting and taking care of people. Helping someone get better and reach their goals feels ALMOST as good as reaching my own goals.

Dislikes: Being alone and “relaxing/doing nothing”, being stuck in a predictable and unchallenging routine. I would hate to do something half-assed or “good-enough”. The scariest thing ever for me would be to feel incompetent. I don’t think I would be good at being with someone who is very shy, as I dislike being bored. I can definitely assume a leadership-role when needed, but I would need someone with the wits and guts to have a proper back-and-forth with me in order for me to truly thrive.

Hobbies: I am a thrill-seeker and get bored quite easily. I love adrenaline-inducing activities, hiking in nature, traveling and living in different countries, exploring different cultures, food, cities and all their people. I’m a very daring foodie but also love the arts of wine and fine cuisine. I also love reading anything really, classic lit, non-fiction and beach reads - I read it all, I love trying to become more knowledgeable in any way possible.

Lastly, I would like to say that I do request a Level 5. I have done all of the requirements, but I am also not stupid, I know I started this tumblr less than a week ago and that my reblogs/shoutout aren’t going to do anything with my 0 followers :)) lol. I really want to support the work of you because I really am super grateful for this opportunity and so impressed by your work, so I have also shared a tip with you, I truly hope it helps. Thank you in advance <3

Want one? Here be the rules 🦋🌈

Oh my goodness, I didn't know you sent in a Tip!? I haven't received anything, and I'm not sure why. Maybe tumblr has stuffed up, but thank you so much for doing so x

𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐏𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

I ship you with Harry Potter! I think you would push him to achieve his best. You remind me of Hermione in that way, and Harry would find comfort in someone caring about decisions. It was much different with how he grew up - the Dursley’s didn’t care what he did.

𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

・ Harry likes to rub your back. He’ll gently trail their fingers up and down your spine, or uses the palm of his hand to massage your entire back. Sometimes he’ll absentmindedly drawing little patterns with his fingertips.

・You often play with hairs at the nape of Harry’s neck whenever you’re bored / or there’s a cease in action.

・You’d definitely both be aurors, I cannot see you in any other Wizarding profession

𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢

He loves how encouraging you are. How he feels supported and that there’s someone who cares about him. Not just that he was the Chosen One, or that he killed the evil in the Wizarding World. But because he’s Harry.

𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑

Your best friend would be Hermione. You’d probably have a bit of a competitive friendship, but it’s a healthy one.

𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬

𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

I ship you with Robb Stark! I think you would open his eyes to a lot of different opinions and ways of seeing the world. He would really appreciate that, maybe not at first, but in the long run.

𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

・ Robb likes to rest his chin on your head as you hug/cuddle. You two could be lying in bed together, or standing in public.

・I think you’d be childhood friends who grow up and grow apart because he’s destined to rule. You come back once the war starts and you’re a very good advisor.

・You bond with his direwolf and he becomes incredibly protective over you

𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢

His favourite thing is your caring nature, and how it comes from a place of true love.

𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑

Your best friend would be Margaery, I think she would love how active you are and you would love her intelligence. You two would make a formidable pair.

𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧

𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

I ship you with Daemon, I think he would appreciate your proactive take on life. The fact that you don’t want to sit still is a relief for him - he doesn’t want to do the same. He has things to do, important things, and he’d like to take you with him.

𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

・Likes to train together. Other couples might cuddle and sit in front of the fire, you two are constantly moving together - doing things that will heighten the adrenaline.

・ Daemon shows his affection by squeezing your thigh. He reaches over and gives your outer thigh a squeeze, maybe of reassurance and/or love, depending on the context.

・Calls you “beautiful”, “my heart” in High Valerion.

𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢

Loves how adventurous you are. He loves dragon-racing, battles and anything that gets his blood pumping.

𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑

Your best friend would be Alicent. I think you have a similar aura that everyone else sees (which isn’t always true to who you are.)

#ships #match ups

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caliginouscreature · 2 years

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Wow, I’m already at my 100th post for this blog! I’ve been meaning to write more about my ’kin experiences and feelings here, so I’m going to use this 100th post to try and talk a little about my species dysphoria for one of my ’types.

It’s hard to say the kind of monster I am because I don’t think there’s a general word for it, but I usually call it being a “Silent Hill monster” due to its amorphousness, connection to trauma and grief, sense of justice, symbolism, proximity warning, tendency to lurk and follow through dark and foggy areas... etc. It’s not just for Silent Hill, but it feels like that general category of creature.

Anyway, I tend to feel what I’ve realized is a lot of species dysphoria about this... I get really sad and feel like I’m invalid because I get really really scared when I play horror games like that! When I look at footage from early SH games, and certain retro indie horror titles, I often tend to feel some sort of connection, a wanting to go there, a desire to run around, explore, lurk, vibe with it; I tend to enjoy listening to the ambience on its own too, I love the older more industrial SH tracks... I’m always happy to get to see locations like that in person (and walk around them when they’re not sectioned off!), and really have always loved that surreal creepy “liminal horror” aesthetic in that sense... BUT whenever I try to play any game like that, I just start shaking like a leaf no matter how much I tell myself it’s fine and I have no reason to be afraid! It’s already bad enough that I can’t see in the dark and I’m not immune to the harshness of the environments that such entities dwell in, but this is a kind of species dysphoria that I never really see anyone talk about, so I tend to feel a bit alone on it... I guess an ideal workaround would be a mod of SH or similar games that’s more like a walking sim where you can just hang out with the monsters and watch them move around (maybe interact with them? 😳 but not excessively! show some respect), but that seems pretty unlikely to happen.

I GUESS an explanation could be “even horrifying Silent Hill monsters would be scared shitless if another Silent Hill monster tried stalking and attacking them”, which would be pretty funny to be honest, but there’s no way to know for sure! It’s the feeling of longing and admiration, where it meets the dissonance of actually trying to get into one’s source/supposed home but feeling uneasy, where I feel really worried. idk if any other fictionkin, fictherians, otherkin, etc. have felt something like this, but I have, and I’m putting it out there for the record, and in case anybody’s felt something similar and also worried about whether or not they count because of it.

#species dysphoria #horror kin #monsterkin #silent hill kin #fictionkind #fictionkin #otherkind #woe!! that my human brain has a primitive ''AUGH DANGER!!!'' reaction to this stuff #are we not all worried that we're like that Spongebob ep where he tries to be a jellyfish and just gets stung and realizes it sucks? RIP

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

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Stuck in 1903

Part Two

Masterlist

Summary: Damon and Bonnie had come to your rescue, or so you thought, but it is Kai’s every intention to get close to you again

Pairing: Kai Parker x reader

Warnings: angst, smidge of fluff, mentions of smut, mentions of death, mentions of murder, bad friendships, mentions of poison, swearing

Word Count: 2052

Find Part One Here

divider by @firefly-graphics

If the Other Side continued to exist, then you would be there rather than this subordinate prison world which had been designed for one bad witch. Kai's own kind feared him, you had experienced him mentally draining your energy, he was a chore to put up with, but he could do much more than that, you had learnt from Bonnie. He fed off magic, physically stealing it from bodies and items that harboured any of it, which had poisoned his mind to hunt for power. Your friends had informed you that he had murdered his siblings, well some of them anyway, and had attempted to do so to more of them. And now you knew, with supporting evidence, never to trust Malakai Parker.

Without Damon and Bonnie you had to resort to fending for yourself, which was not at all difficult since this version of Mystic Falls that you were trapped in was quite literally a ghost town. The forever enveloping silence was torture, though the method of ignorance had not been designed for you; it was all for Kai, and that unsettled you. There was one more thing that you had been dreading - the possibility that you could not escape from the remote isolation without the aid of the guest starring siphon himself. This hell was built to contain him for eternity, but now there was magic that he could use to his own advantage nearby.

Your cheek rested upon the side of your hand, mushing the flesh whilst your elbow was poised upon the countertop of the kitchen island in the Salvatore house. All of your concentration validated your deep thoughts, of which you were broken from as a plate was placed directly in front of you, a pancake decorated with chocolate chips and syrup to form a smiley face. Damon was the culprit as he threw a tea towel over his shoulder, expectedly looking at you.

"I'm not hungry." You informed the vampire, who simply frowned at your lack of an appetite. "I ate yesterday, which was technically today." Beneath the table, you crossed your ankles, as you earnt a sigh from your well aged friend; he clearly was not impressed by your behaviour. But you didn't know what he had expected from you, you had been trapped here for longer than you could remember, and alone until you had discovered the man that had been outcast by his own family. At the time you had not known of his murderous tendencies, and had wanted nothing more than to get away from him, and you wouldn't like to admit it but you even missed him a little.

He was annoying and cocky, and withheld crucial information from you, though there was something that contradicted that all. Whenever any one of your friends had suffered the fate of death, they were always attempted to be brought back to life against the natural order of things. It made you wonder and doubt a little if they had even tried to resurrect you. In this separated reality, there was no jurisdiction so that you could know, though each time that either Damon or Bonnie looked at you, you could swear that there was guilt written in their gazes.

"Look I knew being stuck here with Kai must have fucked you up-" he should have bit his lip, his assumptions were anything but correct. And that was proven as you defensively darted out of your seat and jabbed your finger in his face, making him pivot his jaw back. There were many things that were 'fucked up', and supposing that you were one of them because you had died after sacrificing yourself to ensure that they all continued to live just didn't settle right with you. The context of the morbid situation did not help with condoning any reassurance at all, in fact, it gave a spine to your lack of faith in him and the others in the first place. Out of everyone, it was inherently worse to be here with Damon, all he had cared about was his precious Elena as well as himself, and after existing for well over a century, that was insurance that he was never going to change.

"It wasn't him who did that to me, it was roaming this damned place by myself, I had no one. And as crazy as it sounds, I think spending time with the notorious Malakai Parker helped me keep what was to spare of my sanity. If I'm not wrong, I may even say that I've found more being here than dealing with the bullshit y'all cause back home." Perhaps your words were a tad harsh, if Bonnie were in the room you were sure that she'd have a somewhat understanding of what you were saying. Though she was not, and thus you had to deal with the harshness of her best friend all by your lonesome. And it seemed that you had rattled him, apparently he couldn't handle the truth.

"Then why don't you run back to the sociopath? When we discovered that you were here, we found the pair of you attached to the hip anyways. And with him inside of you, I'd never seen you so darn happy, better here with him than tempting me to drink bleach from the way that you constantly complained when you were alive; I swear you were worse than Donovan." It was on your mind's own command for you to take a step back, and away from the toxin that Damon had so cruelly spat at you. Ans the way that he compared you to Matt made you angry; it was though he were ignoring that there were valid reasons for the blond to be the way that he was - after all, the monster before you had practically killed his sister. A laugh renegaded out from your mouth as you realised that you had been right all along, none of them cared. You were just a burden that stopped them from having a perfect life together. If this were a book, then this would be the beginning to your villain arc, and ironically enough Damon saw himself as one of the good guys. Now that was utterly ridiculous after every reckless thing that he had ever done!

"Have it your way then bloodsucker." All along, you should have trusted your guy, and from now on you knew that you would listen to it. And strangely enough, it was calling you to Kai, maybe it was because he was your last resort to escaping this imprisonment that had been meant for him alone. Turning on your heel, you heard Damon flop the towel down on the side and sigh, though you continued to walk, appeasing your better judgement elsewhere. "Wait." He tried to convince you to stay, belatedly understanding the mistake that he had made, but it was no use, you were already on your journey of getting as far away as possible from him.

The Mystic Grill, it remained to be familiar in your eyes as you entered. It was empty and void of drunken assholes and narcissists that you had wasted too much time on. The only person that you missed in the modern alternative was Matt Donovan, he was the only person that didn't treat you as though you were invisible or a nuisance. You wondered how he was coping with your absence, knowing him, he was probably relieved that Damon was gone. But you weren't, because he was here with you instead. Trailing your fingertips over the counter of the bar, out of the corner of your eye you saw a lonely glass of bourbon that was sat there as though it were lamenting you with mockery. You tried to hold your sentimental sob inside, but it was practically impossible. It tore through your body, bellowing out from your mouth as you stifled and fought through your tears.

A hand caressed the landscape of your back causing you to jump and flinch from the unexpected contact. One thing that you had learnt from evading and eventually experiencing the qualms of death, was that you could never be too careful. For no more than a second you had predicted that the intruder to your pity party was Damon, that he had followed you as you tried to distance yourself from him, but alas it was not, instead of being greeted by a fretless vampire, you were condemned by the sight of a powerless witch, of whom had purposely interjected your moment of cracked emotion and wore a brave smile for you. Wiping your eyes with the back of your sleeves, you couldn't help but snap at him. "If you're here to finish what we started then tough luck Parker, you've been here long enough and you have two hands, figure something else out."

His tongue darted out to swipe at his own bottom lip, as he raised his hand, showcasing his offering to you. "I was only going to see if you wanted a pork rind, you look like you could use one." Sighing, you dug your hand into the pungent packet that was littered with dust and crumbs, retrieving a few treats for yourself as you placed them in your mouth. "And now should be when the poison kicks in..." With your hand, you gave him a little shove as you tolled your eyes at his homicidal comedy. "Come on, that was funny! I'm funny!"

"If you say so, there's not very many people around to give you an honest opinion." It was true, the only other human like lifeforms impartially close by were Damon and Bonnie, and well, you weren't going to scurry back to them anytime soon. "And if you had poisoned me, then you would know that I would be fine and dandy in not so long, It wouldn't make a difference if that wasn't the case either, I mean I'm already dead, what could be worse than that?" Kai looked at you with shock; he didn't know that about you, that you had actually suffered a final breath. Now he thought about it, the grand scheme of things he didn't know much about you in general, though he was prepared to learn. He had often found death to be fulfilling, satisfying even, but he'd never thought about its victims being so beautiful. Yet here you were before him, by chance the one force that could motivate and help him find a way out of this jarring hole of reaping misery.

"You're here, that's all that matters." As soon as those words fled from his lips he realised exactly what he had said, and a blush framed his features. "I um - that wasn't what I - you know, yeah..." He scratched the back of his neck as you shook your head at this new side that you were seeing of Malakai. His parents called him Malakai, of course he was going to become a killer, but right now you saw nothing more than an embarrassed boy whose skin had flushed as an affect of his own words. From your experience, everyone was either the killer or the killed - you two were one of each. Like ying and yang, you fit perfectly, it was a balanced divide that was settled on whichever rhythm played out in the air. And to correspond with that thought you walked over to the jukebox, a song beginning to play which made Kai want to cover his ears. "I hate this song." He told you; he really did, if he could murder it, he would without a doubt.

"Then don't listen, just dance with me." You extended your hands out to him, to which he begrudgingly reached for. And as he snapped his eyes open, he realised that was all a memory, and that goddamn song was still playing. All he could think about was you, he had seen how upset you had been to die, and yet you were gone again, and it was all down to your so called friends. One was standing before him as he sat in chains, imprisoned against a chair. "Are you here to punish me?" He asked Bonnie, wanting nothing more than shut his eyes and see your face again.

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elivanto · 2 years

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ok to the person who sent me that ask. i won’t answer it publicly but i do want to make a post about it because i need to explain this not only to you but to everyone who follows me. for the approx 34674th time but it’s time for a refresher course anyway. and i know i’m making myself unpopular here but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

i enjoy consuming content of (relation)ships and themes that have a tendency to squick people out or are “problematic”. or that are just outright gross to some. i enjoy talking about those ships and themes. but i do most of it in private because i know how hurtful and vicious people can be about it (instead of just putting it into your filtered tags/content and ignoring it), cue the danger of being isolated from a fandom i generally enjoy, which is a whole other can of worms but that’s not why i’m telling you this.

i’m sure you were aware of this. this is not the first time i’m talking about it, and it’s right there in my pinned.

so what’s the difference between interacting with my content and the content of someone who’s more open about what they like? that your own followers and friends could perhaps see that you reblogged content from someone like that? that maybe people could think you condone that person liking content that’s condemned by a large portion of the fandom?

you didn’t offend me but i was hurt on behalf of the person whose art you complimented in a very sweet way just to turn around and make a scornful post about them as soon as you noticed they liked a ship you think is terrible. i can’t imagine how much of a slap in the face that must have felt like to them.

maybe blocking you was a harsh reaction because we’ve been mutuals for a while and i do like you, but you clearly don’t want to be associated with people like me and that’s fine. and you should consider apologizing to that ^ person instead of to me.

#please don’t reblog #fandom w*nk

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impala1967dwinchester · 3 years

Text

Dean Winchester: Queen

*Credit to gif owner*

Paring: Dean x reader

Pov: Readers

Warnings: Dean dressing in drag, swearing, Dean, loss of a bet, Dean being cocky, mention of Sam, Jealous!Reader Angst/Fluff, lots of talks with Sam, lots of talking with Dean towards the end. reader self-doubt, Dean being reassuring.

Summary: When Dean and the reader place a bet, it goes very much not in Dean favor. Dean has a tendency to get bored quickly though, which leads down a harsh road for the reader. Coming back to the bunker she tries to pretend everything is fine, but Dean wants answers.

Word Count: 3k

A/N- I know lots of pov switches I’m sorry... but I hope this is good and y’all like it.

Main masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Taglist: @akshi8278 @deanswaywardgirl @hit-meup69

“Bets are down!” Sam said.

Y/n had bet that if she won that game of pool that Dean would have to dress in drag. Dean bet that if he won pool which he was cocky about winning that Y/n would have to do the research for the next four hunts.

What neither one of them knew was the bet the other one placed.

Sam was the only one. So, the game began. I racked up the fifteen Dean grabbed his pool stick, and grabbed me a pool stick as well. He was being sort of gentleman. He chalked the end of both the pool sticks.

“Are you ready to get your ass beat!?” Dean said handing me my pool stick. “I can’t wait for you to have to do my bet.” Dean said excitement dripping into his words.

I rolled my eyes and rocked on the back of my heels. “Are you done being cocky Dean, so we can play this game?” I asked looking over at Sam.

He just shrugged and watch Dean and I. “Come on Dean just play. Stop trying to be an asshole. I bet Y/n doesn’t really care how much you show off.” Sam said.

Dean huffed and started to play. His board shoulders leaning over the pool table, lining the pool stick up with the white cue ball. I lifted the rack and stepped away from the pool table.

He struck the cue ball and game began. None of the colored balls or striped balls ended up ports at the corners of the pool table. Dean stepped back and let me have a go, figuring out what ball I wanted to take a hit at I lined my pool stick up with the white cue ball and strikes it.

The cue ball ended up hitting at least four balls two of which were colored balls landing into the corner spots. Sam sat and watched as Dean looked over at me and huffed once again in a sort of defeat. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, Ya hear Dean.” Sam said.

Dean only shooed him off with a wave of his hand, and continued to play. This cycle went on for a bit. I’d play and get at least one ball in every time. I’d back up and let Dean take over the pool table, I’d go sit with Sam drink whatever beer I had left. And wait.

Wait for the grunt of disappoint when Dean didn’t any of his striped balls into the pockets, or a “Hell Yeah!” from Dean when he got a ball pocketed. Dean’s macho stance whenever he did hit a ball was ridiculous. “You know you honestly make him work for things.” Sam said commenting on how much Dean was really putting effort into the game.

“Come on now Sam. That’ I say waving my hand over the figure of Dean farther away ‘That right there is all Dean. I have nothing to do with any of that.” I said not really wanting to believe that I may have that great of effect on Dean like Sam says.

Dean is great at pool. Dean doesn’t lose bets either. Sam has watched his entire life Dean play pool and win every game. So maybe Sam sees something that I can’t see, or something neither Dean or I can see. Yeah, maybe Sam's right, maybe I have just the great of an effect on Dean Winchester.

We continued to play, each other us going back and forth from the pool table. Finally, the last-colored ball was sitting on the pool table, black eight ball was staring at me from across the table. taunting me to win the game, I lined my stick up with the cue ball and went through with a solid hit. It hit and within seconds the eight ball was in the pocket and I had won the game.

Meaning that Dean, oh poor Dean had lost the bet. Not a normal thing either for him to lose, but I keep thinking about what Sam said. I really hope that Sam was right for my own sake.

Sam looked over at me grinning at me. Dean was too preoccupied with a rather younger woman sitting not too far from the bar. He said before he left that he was getting more drinks and that there was no way I was going to be able to hit that last ball in.

All the happiness and excitement went out the window when I saw Dean flirting with her at the bar. His swagger and smirking face turned on to the max. It would have anyone weak to the knees.

Sam's eyes followed mine. Even Sam didn’t know that I wanted to be with Dean. Nobody knows, and I’d like to think I don’t want anyone to know. Because if I’m the only person then I don’t have to listen to Sam try and force to tell him, or Dean push me away.... I don’t want any of that.

Sam's eyes landed on his brother flirting his way into the woman’s pants. He looked over at me. I played a good game of pool, but I didn’t have a good poker face.

Sam got up from his bar stool at the table. He stood next to me and bumped my shoulder with his own, biting the inside of cheek I took a deep breath in and looked over at Sam. “Dean tends to be blind to the good things in front of him.” Sam said.

“It doesn’t matter. The happy moment is gone. He’s bored. So, I take the rest of my pride and leave with it. Because I’m sorry Sam, but Dean isn’t worth the heartbreak.” I said putting the pool stick down on the table and grabbing my jacket from the bar stool seat that I was sitting at.

Sam shrugged his shoulders and apologized for Dean. “I’m sorry for him. Drive back to the bunker, and I’ll get him home without extra company.” He said, before kissing my temple.

I smiled for a quick second at Sam before walking past Dean at the bar with the women straight out the door and to my car. I slammed my car door and rested my head against the steering wheel. Letting my body finally go through the emotions. Crying until my steering wheel was soaked.

Dean Pov:

When I finally looked back over at the pool table the first thing, I noticed was no Y/n. Where’d she go? I got up from the bar and walked back with the drink that I had ordered.

“Sam, where’s Y/n?” I asked, noticing the pool stick sitting on the table. Sam didn’t turn around at all, his eye very much focused on the sports game on the TV screen above. Setting the drinks on the table I asked again.

“Sam, where’s Y/N?” He turned and just shook his head. “Dude seriously, her jacket isn’t here and her pool stick is sitting on the table.” I said still very confused as to what was truly going on.

“Dude she left.” Sam said jugging the rest of his beer. “But we weren’t even done with the pool game.” I said a little huff falling out with my words. “Yeah, you were, Dean. Don’t play innocent like you weren’t feeling that girl up at the bar.... Oh, and by the way she won.” Sam said shortly.

I walked over to the pool table noticing all the colored balls were gone pocketed in the corners of the pool table. ‘Damn that girl beat me’ I thought. Wait I don’t understand why’d she leave just like that. I didn’t say anything to her.

“Oh my god Dean, I can hear you thinking. Let me guess you can’t figure out what you did wrong can you?” Sam said getting up and tucking his bar stool under the table. “Let’s go. I’m ready to go home.” Sam said. I really didn’t have any choice, so I chugging the rest of my beer, and throw some cash on the table before jogging to catch up to Sam.

Y/n Pov

I sat in the kitchen with a glass of whiskey. Sipping it ever so often, but hearing the bunker door open and then shut I decided to just chug the whiskey. It burnt at tad as it fell past my lips and down my throat.

In walked Sam and then shortly Dean walked in. Sam was silent grabbing a water bottle from the fridge and giving me a kiss on the cheek before walking out of the kitchen.

Again, it was silent. “So... Sam gave me your bet. I’ll do it. I just have a question’ Dean asked, I turned in the seat and faced him. Dean was leaning up against the kitchen island arms crossed his chest and his ankles crossed. ‘Why’d you leave the bar early.” He said finishing his sentence.

Bewildered by how Dean thought he had done nothing wrong I sighed heavily and went to say something it couldn’t. The words not wanting to fall out of my mouth. If they fell out then that would mean that they were real.

“If I dress you in that drag... I tell you afterwards. Deal?” I asked. Hoping Dean would let it go for tonight. I could have the last fun with Dean tomorrow and then I’ll tell him. “Okay fine. Tomorrow after you’re done.” He said pushing off the kitchen island and kissing me on my temple.

Leaving me alone once again in the vast space of the kitchen.

I won’t say that I didn’t have fun grabbing all the shit I needed for dressing Dean up in drag. Grabbing laced up combat heels, a black dress, and a shit ton of makeup. I wanted this to be fun. And how can I forget I grabbed a bleach blonde long wig to complete whatever look I was going for.

Shooting Dean, a message to come to library he was there quicker than you could say apple pie. It was awkward at first since everything that had happened last night, but he had gotten over that pretty quickly. Dean sat down in front of me.

“Are you ready?” I questioned him. “I lost a bet. I really can’t pull myself outta this one can I.” He spoke. “So, I’m going to take that as yes.” I spoke. After almost three hours of me trying to do Deans drag makeup. Constantly having to tell him to close his eyes, or whatever other instruction I gave him. I was done with that part.

He got up, “My face all the sudden feels every heavy.” He said gently patting his cheeks with his palm. “Don’t touch!” I said swatting his hand away. Dean raised his hands in defense.

“Here!" I said shoving the bag with everything except the wig to him. Go change, just don’t look at the make-up, yeah.” I spoke. sitting back down in the chair with a plop.

Dean getting dressed took another hour. He walked out the dress wasn’t tight around his figure and the lace stockings I had also bought he was wearing; the boots look good. He was little wobbly but otherwise he looked alright.

He walked over to me. Reminding me just how much taller he was then me now that he had a pair of heels on. “Put your head down.” I said quietly but he followed my instructions. When Dean flipped his head back over, he had a wig on. The extra weight throwing his head off for a long second.

As Dean tried to regain his head balance, I shot Sam a message asking him to come out the library and to have his camera ready. In a split-second Sam was there with his phone.

Dean stood-up his hands on his hips. “Yeah, laugh it up. I’m just going to say that I look like a bad ass bitch.” He said trying to balance on the heel on the combat boots I had grabbed.

“Can we take pictures? We promise we won't share them.” I asked, getting for a harsh ‘no’, but instead the answer was yes. Sam took a few and so did I. then Sam waved to us saying he had reading he had to catch up on.

“So... Now that I've done this, can you tell me why you left the bar early yesterday night.” Dean said reaching up to take off the wig. “Yeah, but first get out of the clothes because I bet, you’re uncomfortable and you come back here, and I’ll take all this shit off your face, agreed.” I spoke.

He gave me a sideways glance, “Okay, don’t go running off okay.” He said as he got up wobbling and holding onto objects as he walked away. Only a few minutes he came back wearing only a pair of sweats and a pair of Christmas slippers I had gotten both of the boys.

“Please take this stuff off my face, because to be honest with you I can feel it seeping into my skin.” Dean said. I laughed a little thinking about how realistic that explanation was to what it really felt like.

I got to work. Wiping Deans eye gently with the cotton pad. “Can you please tell me now?” Dean said eye closed. The feeling of his eye not being on me as these words passed my lips was actually more helpful.

“U mm... you left... and everything was going great, but... You... and then” I said skipping over words and frustrating myself. Dean reached out placing his hand on my wrist. “Y/n just slow down. One step at a time.” He spoke.

Taking a deep breath in, I started again. “So, everything was going well, you were being your cocky self which doesn’t bother me. And then all the sudden it seemed like you got bored of us... actually, more like you got bored of me and the game. Like whenever it just you and me. Some younger chick takes your attention.” I said, grabbing a new cotton pad and starting to clean Deans other eye.

You’ve got to get the rest of your thought-out Y/n.

“Dean I would do anything for you. I hope you know that. Literally anything I’d die for you to be able to save the world. But I don't much in return. I ask for you spend some of your precious time with you. I just want your attention. I’ll do anything for you to just want me.” I spoke

I gasped and covered my mouth. Oops that part wasn’t supposed to come out. I finished in eyes. He opened them and grabbed my wrist before I could grab another cotton pad.

“Do you really mean everything you just said.” He asked, I kept my eyes the floor suddenly finding that much more interesting than Dean’s emerald green eyes. Or his amazing freckles. I felt a touch of Deans hand on my chin, forcing me to look at him.

“Did you mean it Y/n?” Dean asked again a sterner tone falling into the words. “Yes, Dean.” I said a frown falling onto my features. So many thoughts running through my head but none of them were the next things that Dean said to me.

“Glad, because I want you too.” He spoke. Thank god Dean finger was still under my chin because if not my jaw would have landed on the floor between our legs. “So, the flirting?” I asked in a hushed voice. Not trusting my own words at current moment.

Dean face contorted and he took a moment to think. “Those girls... they were the only way I thought I could get over you, but I realize now that I’m a complete and utter asshole. A blind asshole. I’m sorry Y/n.” Dean said

His hand migrating to my cheek and his thumb rubbing right under my eye in a comforting way. I leaned into the touch. “You are an asshole. Just neither of us knew what the other was thinking.” I said touching out forehead together.

“Can you get the rest of this makeup off, please, Y/n?” Dean asked. I rolled my eyes and pulled away from his forehead.” Way to ruin the moment Winchester.” I said before I started cleaning up the rest of Deans face.

‘Yeah, I know, but I really wanted to kiss you properly without any makeup on.” He said smashing his lips into mine, and holding down tight onto my waist and forearm. When he pulled away needing air he asked “We’re both idiots, but can we be idiots together?” I smiled and shrugged my shoulder before lunging in for another Dean Winchester kiss.

“Wait, you don’t care that I don’t look like the other girls the you flirt with?” I asked shyness overcoming me. My grasp on the idea that Dean would even want me was eating away at my brain. Giving me a very perplexed look, and scrunching his eyebrows.

“Look I know that it looks like I have a type.” Dean said grabbing into one of my thighs. “But, that’s a different Dean, that’s hopefully in the past. I know that I have a track record for only bring home blonde skinny women, but I... I want you and your body. I want all your thick parts’ he said squeezing my thigh. ‘I want your crazy bed head in the morning. I want you to continue trying to beat me at pool, I want you to be with me. I want so many things, but all of them are because of you.” Dean said pausing to let me take in his words. “I want whatever you want to give me. I don’t care what your body looks like because that’s not what made me attracted to you doll. Your heart, mind, and soul are what made me want you. I hope that’s okay” He said.

I smiling and sniffed my nose trying to stop the cascade of tears that was about to break. “Yeah, that’s okay Dean.” I said grasping Deans strong body for a hug.

Completed on: 04/11/2021

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janetbrown711 · 3 years

Note

"My head hurts" - Dot

There were three things Yakko hated most in the world: King Salazar, moving ‘homes’, and winter.

Yakko’s hatred of Salazar was clear: he was responsible for where they were now. It was his fault they were homeless orphans in a town that was going progressively downhill. He was raising taxes without a thought about what it was doing to the citizens. It drove Yakko insane, especially since this tax went down to the smallest child. Every time they earned just enough money for a new blanket or maybe a warm meal made by someone else for once, it was taken away by that stupid baron Thaddeus Von Plotz.

It was because of King Salazar that the stores and shops kept shutting down, and reopening just to shut down again. It made it especially hard for them to find a stable place to live. Just when they’d get settled into an abandoned jewelry shop, policemen would come and tell them to scram and that some other shop that was doomed to fail was replacing it.

The worst part about changing ‘homes’ was how difficult it clearly was for Dot. Wakko was usually gone during the days, trying to find odd little jobs to do around the town, or hunt for rabbits for them to eat for dinner if they didn’t have money to buy food. Dot, however, was just five years old now. She didn’t have any memories of their parents, or even of the orphanage. Yakko spent his days with her, trying to teach her to read and write with what he had around, or playing her silly games, but with her hanging around “home” so often, she always got just too attached right before they’d have to move again. She always looked so heartbroken as she looked back and said goodbye to the building.

Winter.

Yakko hated winter a lot, it was in a close second to King Salazar. It snowed a lot in Acme Falls, and Yakko was thankful they had fur, or else all of them would’ve caught hypothermia by now.

Winter’s were especially hard when they had to move around. Sometimes there weren’t buildings and they’d have to spend the next few days in the alleys. That was when they were practically guaranteed to get sick. It was never too serious, and they were usually just cases of flu that lasted a few days before going away. Yakko had a tendency to be a ‘worry-wart’ in the words of Wakko, which he couldn’t deny. He just... couldn’t afford to lose them.

“Yakko, when is Wakko coming back?” Dot asked, holding a very worn out rag doll Yakko had gotten her for her third birthday, before the taxing would’ve made it impossible.

“He’ll be back soon,” Yakko said, as he looked through what food they had left to see if they could have lunch today. Dot frowned a little.

“Y-yakko my head hurts,” Dot said.

“Go lay down, I’m sure it’ll go away,” Yakko brushed it off. Dot tended to exaggerate things when she wanted attention. It was probably just from hunger- not that Yakko could blame her, but it was nothing lunch could hopefully fix.

“Okay... I’ll go lie down,” Dot nodded and went to their bed, which was really just a pile of blankets on the floor, and curled up into a ball. Yakko frowned at that, but shrugged it off again. He really did need to relax more, he always got so wrapped up in his own head, and it never did anyone any good.

“It’s just because she’s hungry,” He thought to himself. Yakko returned to the food and sighed. Hopefully Wakko could make more than a ha’penny this time because they were running low on bread.

Still, something was off with Dot today so it was probably best to have at least a little something to settle her over for now. Hopefully, they’d be okay...

Yakko wasn’t surprised when it started to snow outside. He muttered to himself as he got the materials for a fire and set them aside to do later. Hopefully, it wouldn’t snow too much, or else they’d be able to make snowmen with how many holes were in the ceiling.

“I’m back!” Wakko announced as he re-entered the small building.

“Took you long enough, what do you have?” Yakko asked.

“I was lucky and got myself three ha’pennies today,” Wakko beamed with pride. Yakko did his best to be happy as well, but, well- ha’pennies weren’t exactly as valuable as Wakko believed. Still, it could buy them a little more food, which meant Wakko didn’t have to hunt and could play with Dot like she wanted.

“That’s good Wak. We can buy some more bread with that and have some for dinner,” Yakko said. Wakko nodded happily.

“Look Dot! I got three- is she okay?” Wakko went to brag to his little sister, but quickly dropped his attitude.

“Her head hurts, I’m sure it’s just because she’s hungry. She hardly ate yesterday,” Yakko stated.

“Neither did we and we’re fine,” Wakko frowned.

“We’re bigger than she is, it means more to her than us,” Yakko sighed and shrugged. That detail did bug him, but he had other things to focus on for the moment. He shivered as he felt the building shake as harsh winds began to mix in with the snow.

For instance, he had a fire to start.. somewhere.

It was really hard to start fires in places that didn’t have an oven. If it hadn’t been snowing he would have tried outside. Still, he had collected rocks, sticks and had even gotten some firewood and it was cold enough to warrant using it. Even though he hated it most times, he was glad for once the floor was dirt and not wood.

As he started pilling the wood, he felt his younger brother hovering around him curiously. Yakko chuckled at that. He had been doing that since he could walk; some things never change.

“If you want to help start the fire, you can just say so Wak,” Yakko grinned. Wakko, not one to be embarrassed easily, beamed, and picked up the stones Yakko had gathered days before and started putting them in a circle around the fire. Yakko didn’t really know why people did that with fires, but it made them look nicer and it made a clear barrier Dot and Wakko knew not to cross.

“Eventually, they had gathered everything around. Yakko grabbed the box of matches they had, and did his best to hide his frown as he realized they only had four left.

“Better make them count,” He thought, sighing aloud. He of course could’ve tried the old fashioned way, but those fires tended to end poorly, and usually gave the ever impulsive Wakko ideas. It was simply better to use matches.

Finally, the fire had been lit and Yakko felt himself sigh a breath of relief mixed with tiredness. Who knew it was utterly exhausting to have to raise a five-year-old, and an eight-year-old when you were only eleven-almost-twelve. He grabbed their bag of food and handed Wakko a piece of bread and some grapes before standing up and going to Dot.

“Hey Dot, we’re eating lunch now and-” Yakko paused when he noticed how damp her fur looked. He looked up and frowned when he saw that there wasn’t a hole above her that would’ve caused snow to fall on her.

Then she coughed.

It wasn’t a normal cough, it was loud, it was messy, and it was long.

“D-dot? Are you okay?” Yakko asked, trying to hide his panic. Dot shivered and clutched the blanket around her tighter.

Oh god- this was bad. This was really really bad.

“Wakko, where did you put your ha’pennies?” Yakko asked, turning to him.

“Right here- what’s wrong with Dot?” Wakko said, his ears lowered in worry.

“We have to take her to the doctor- Now.” Yakko stated.

“Now? Is she okay?” Wakko looked much more frightened. Yakko never took them to the doctor for anything unless he felt it was serious (like when Wakko had broken his arm hunting once).

“Y-yak-” Dot had tried to speak, but her voice was hoarse. Yakko cringed as he picked her up. She suddenly felt a lot lighter than she had before.

This was really really bad.

“Don’t say anything Dot, it’s gonna be okay,” Yakko said, stroking her head softly.

However, the universe seemed to be out to prove him wrong as the door swung open and snow and fiercely bitter winds broke into the small place and immediately put the fire out.

So much for making the most out of that match.

Yakko shook his head, he didn’t have time to focus on that, Dot was sick. Really sick. He needed to get her to a doctor asap.

“Stay here Wak, it’ll be safer in here than out there,” Yakko said. Wakko shook his head profusely.

“I wanna go with you. We need to stick together,” Wakko insisted. Yakko looked at him and couldn’t help but be reminded of that night five years ago...

Yakko shook his head to snap himself out of it. “Fine, but hold onto my tail. I can’t lose you in the storm,” Yakko said, and was relieved when Wakko didn’t protest. Finally, he sucked in a deep breath for strength and headed out into the storm for the doctors.

Yakko usually forbade his sibs from walking during a snow storm for very obvious reasons. One, they could get frostbite or hypothermia or just get really cold; Two, the roads were covered in ice and they could easily slip and hurt themselves; and Three, it was just generally a really bad idea.

That didn’t stop Yakko though. He was on a mission and nothing was going to stop him. He didn’t hesitate to take off his own coat and wrap his little sister in it. If it weren’t for the direness of the situation, he would’ve laughed at how it engulfed her.

He kept marching on.

The walk was a lot longer than Yakko expected, but with the snow piling up and the weight of carrying his sister and feeling his brother’s pull on his tail, plus the lack of visibility were all making it a whole lot more difficult than it had to be.

“Yakko! I think you walked past it!” Wakko shouted from behind to be heard over the wind.

Walked past it? No, he wouldn’t have-

He looked above and noticed they were all the way at the bakery, three buildings over from the doctor’s office.

“This is what you get for complaining Yakko. Keep this up and she’ll be de-”

No. He couldn’t think like that. He turned around and ran as quickly as he could to the doctors without slipping. He cursed when the stupid door was locked. Wakko tapped his shoulder and gestured for him to step aside. Yakko obeyed and Wakko began banging on the door as hard as he could.

“Ve are closed can’t you read- Oh. The Warners. Vhat do ve have here?” The familiar doctor puzzled. Ignoring the rude implications, Yakko leaned Dot towards him and the doctor gasped and let them come in immediately.

Thank goodness the doctor was doing well for himself still because his building was nice and toasty. Doctor Scratnsniff closed and locked the door once more after they got in.

“Vhat is the matter vis Dot?” He asked, gesturing for Yakko to hand her over. Yakko hesitated but obliged.

“I don’t know... I-i thought she was just tired because she was hungry but when I checked up on her later she was sweaty, a-and she had a cough. A really bad one,” Yakko said.

“How far did you walk to come here? It vas very far, no?” He asked as he hurried off to his examination table. Yakko and Wakko followed.

“Very far,” Wakko said.

“And in a blizzard nonetheless. You two must really care,” Dr. Scratchnsniff said, checking her vitals.

Yakko scoffed. Was he daft? He had known them since they had moved to Acme Falls and he was surprised they cared about her?

“Zis is bad... zis is very bad...” The doctor muttered in hopes that the other two sibs wouldn’t hear, but Yakko heard it clear as day.

“What’s the matter doc?” Yakko said, sticking his hands in his pant pockets nervously.

“I’m afraid Dot is very ill-”

“Can you fix her?” Wakko interrupted. Scratchnsniff sighed.

“I do not know. Zis illness... it comes and goes. To remove it would require surgery which is expensive and dangerous, especially around zis time of year,” He scratched the back of his bald head.

“N-no... there... there has to be something you can do,” Yakko pleaded.

“I’m sorry Yakko... there isn’t much I can do except recommend a diet and hope for the best. Like I said, it comes and goes,” He explained.

“Please, we’ll do anything,” Yakko said. Scratchnsniff sighed.

“I’ll give you a list,” He said.

Good. At least the doctor wasn’t that daft and heartless.

“You kiddies should stay here for the next while though, Dot needs her strength and a warm environment ja?” He said as he went to get a piece of paper. Yakko and Wakko shared a look.

“We only have three ha’pennies...” Wakko said, looking at the ground. “Will that cover it..?”

Yakko saw Scratchnsniff pause.

“Guess he isn’t doing as well as I thought,” Yakko thought.

“Zat will get you three days, ja? Zat should be enough time for her to regain her strength,” He said. Wakko smiled.

“Thanks scratchy!” He said, hugging the doctor.

“You’re very velcome Vakko,” He patted his head, clearly uncomfortable with the gesture but too polite to say otherwise.

“Yeah, thanks doc,” Yakko said, keeping his distance and walking over to Dot.

“Y-yakko...” Dot shivered.

“Shh, it’s gonna be okay Dot,” Yakko said, trying his best not to look overwhelmed with worry.

“Wh-where- wh-when-” Dot looked around wearily.

“It’s okay Dot. We’re at the doctor's. Just get some rest, okay? You’re gonna need your strength,” Yakko said, stroking her head.

“A-am I okay?” Dot asked, looking at him wearily.

“You’ll be okay Dot. Everything is gonna be okay," He said, not really believing it, but he willed himself to look like he believed it for her. It wasn't easy, as she went into another nasty coughing fit. After that, Dot shivered and reached out for his hand wearily. He gave it to her, and she placed it under her cheek and embraced it. Yakko thought he might cry.

"It's gonna be okay, Dot. You're gonna be okay."

"You have to," he silently added.

He couldn't afford to lose her too.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

#animaniacs #my fics #dot warner #yakko warner #wakko warner #yakko wakko and dot #angst #wakkos wish #dr sratchnsniff #feels #sickness #tw: illness

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infinitebells · 3 years

Note

Maybe some angst if you're ok with that? Moran loves you, but had gotten carried away and during one of his missions he had slept with a random woman from the bar. A year has passed and he still can't get over you and wants you to forgive him, but to his surprise the next time he sees you, you're pregnant and Sherlock is parading around how beautiful his pregnant fiance is. Moran still chooses to talk to you and maybe try to convince you to come back. (if you're not ok with this I understand)

this makes me sad, my two favorite boys omg. i listened to yellow as i wrote this and had to stop myself from crying LOL

p.s. my sister violently cried when i made her read this

“i slept with someone during our mission,” he says, voice wobbly. it’s the first time you’ve ever seen his composure break, but your head is in too much of a disarray to notice it. white noise roars through your ears and your vision almost goes too, but you force the darkness away. tears immediately pool on your lower lash line as the words leave his mouth.

“are you being truthful sebastian? or is this some sick joke?” you ask quietly. you pray to every god that he’ll burst out laughing and apologizing for such an awful joke, but nothing of the sort happens. instead, his gaze falls to the floor, unshed tears shining in the light. he doesn’t say a word, but he doesn’t have to. instead, he watches as you leave the room, returning a few minutes later with a suitcase full of your things. panic sets in at the sight, and he rushes forward, gripping your arm tightly to keep you from walking out of the front door.

“wait princess please, it was an accident i sw-”

“don’t call me that,” your voice is trembling. you had hoped your words would come out harsher, but even in your sadness you couldn’t bring yourself to yell at him. “please, don’t,” you whisper.

“please let me make it up to you. what can i do?” he’s kneeling in front of you now, holding your arm close to his chest. his heart breaks in two at the tears streaming down your cheeks. a few stray ones land on his hand, and he grabs yours, kissing the back of it before looking back up. his tears match yours now. and even as he cries he’s still one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever laid your eyes on. a sob you had been repressing breaks free, and your entire body trembles at the force of it.

“sebastian please, don’t make this harder. please let go,” you’re full on sobbing now, your cries echoing throughout the manor. the rest of the boys are quiet in william’s office down the hall.

“i can’t let you go my love, i can’t,” he exclaims, pressing his forehead into the back of your hand. his whole being shakes with his silent sobs, and he can’t bring himself to look up at you anymore. his guilt eats him alive from the inside out, and your next words only serve to completely shatter his spirit.

“i’m begging you, please let me go sebastian. i need to be alone, i can’t look at you without imagining you sleeping with someone else,” your voice is louder, your agony seeping through. he can hear how desperate you are, and everything in his body seizes. his breathing stops as he looks back up at you. your hand covers your mouth to muffle your sobs, and your eyes are squeezed shut as tears leak out of the corners of your eyes. his grip loosens on your hand, and when you open your eyes, his hands are off of you, and he’s looking up at you like he’s lost.

“i’m sorry,” he murmurs, voice cracking on the last syllable. it’s the last thing he says to you before the dam breaks and you rush out of the manor, your cries following you the entire way. sebastian moran has never felt more broken than when he heard your screams of pure sorrow pierce the otherwise quiet night. and he doesn’t think he’ll ever hear anything as heartbreaking.

✧ ✧ ✧

even though one year has passed, the colonel can still feel a unique hollowness deep in his chest. it grows more painful as he passes your favorite restaurant, flashes of your dinner dates playing in his head. it grows more painful when he sees a bouquet of your favorite flowers being handed to another woman. it grows more painful when he sees the constellations hanging in the sky, your favorite ones standing out to him.

all of these instances make the pain grow sharper in his chest, but nothing quite hurts him as much when he sees you in the town square, another man’s arm dangling off of your shoulders, and your hand placed on top of your semi-swollen belly. the glint of your engagement ring blinds him, and he can almost feel his senses fail him as he sees it. what hurts the most is how beautiful you look with sherlock holmes at your side, raving to his partner about which baby names he likes best.

“i really like the name sebastian for a boy, what do you think love?” sherlock’s gaze is trained on you, and his words send a fresh shot of pain barreling through his chest. he can feel his throat constrict as he accidentally overhears sherlock, but he can’t pull away from the conversation now.

“i don’t know, it’s a nice name, but can we look at others too?” moran can’t detect any hidden malice in your words, but he doesn’t know if that only serves to please him or poison him.

“of course! will you wait here while i run into the bakery with watson? i’ll get you some of those muffins you’ve been craving recently,” he’s cheeky with his words, and you can’t help but giggle at them, pecking him on the cheek before shooing the two men away before sitting down on a bench and looking down at your stomach. your fingers find the golden chain resting on your neck, unconsciously playing with the thin strand. you’d never bothered to rid yourself of it, choosing to associate it with the friendship you and the colonel had once had instead of the romantic relationship.

“i thought you would have rid yourself of that necklace by now,” your heart skips a beat at the deep voice, refusing to turn and look at the man now sitting next to you.

“it’s a nice necklace. why would i rid myself of a gift given to me by an old friend?” you force your voice to stay steady as you finally turn to look at moran. his dark green eyes haven’t changed at all.

“am i simply known as an old friend now?” he questions, hands clasping together as he leans forward, forearms resting on his thighs. his gloved hand twitches beneath the fabric, and he’s thankful it’s covered so you can’t see it.

“i don’t think i could refer to you as anything else at this point,” you reply. your voice is dry, but he knows it’s an act. after having been with you for five years, he knows everything about you. and he can see the front you’re putting up.

“you could refer to me as your new lover, should you choose to leave the detective,” his words surprise himself, but he can’t go back now. your eyes widen in disbelief, and your hand grips the side of the bench tightly.

“why would i do such a thing colonel?” the nickname used to be affectionate, one you used when you wanted to tease sebastian. now it’s harsh, sharp on your tongue.

“because i’m still madly in love with you,” he murmurs, staring directly at you. his eyes don’t leave yours, fearful that he’ll miss any indication of your feelings on your face. he watches as your bottom lip is tugged harshly between your teeth, a nervous habit you’d always had.

“sebastian i am with another man now,” you speak slowly, his given name tasting bitter after months of being unused. his face remains slack, his eyes the only indication that he’s serious.

“i know. and i know that you and i were once together as well. so why not try again? we were together for years love,” his once affectionate name for you slips out on accident, but he can see your eyes soften at it as he speaks. the soft gaze is quickly replaced with withering sadness. it chills him to his core.

“yet you threw those years away the moment you slid in bed with another woman,” you whisper, fingers tugging tightly at your necklace. you feel as though it’s choking you. moran’s quiet, defeat flowing through him. he nods, standing from the bench and turning away. he stops before walking, looking back over his shoulder.

“sebastian is a fine name for a young man, but fred is much more suitable for a boy who would take after the kind and caring tendencies of his mother,” he speaks, smiling sadly at you. you can feel tears pool in your eyes, and you return the smile. you missed the young boy who had treated you like his older sister for the years you and sebastian had been together. you two still exchanged letters sometimes, meeting for lunch occasionally.

“both would be wonderful names for a boy,” you say, finality laced in your tone. he nods, offering you another smile before turning around and walking away. his large form disappears into the crowd, and you turn back to look down at your belly. a stray tear landing on your swollen stomach.

“who was that my dear?” sherlock’s voice catches your attention, and you quickly wipe any tears away before looking up at him.

“an old friend i hadn’t seen in a while,” you don’t expect the voice crack, and alarm spreads across his face. he kneels in front of you, holding your hand lightly as the other one rests on your cheek, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your cheekbone.

“what’s wrong sweetheart? why are you crying?” he asks, gaze tracing your features.

“i just hadn’t seen them in a while and i though they had passed on, so i was relieved to know they were safe,” it wasn’t a complete lie, and he bought it without hesitation. helping you stand up, he keeps your body close to his by looping his arm around your waist.

“okay, as long as you’re okay now,” he reinforces his words to a kiss on top of your head, and you grin involuntarily at his gesture.

“he did recommend a good boy name that i like,” you speak up, bittersweet warmth spreading through your chest.

“oh yeah? do enlighten me!” excitement bursts on his face like fireworks, and you can feel your own smile grow. unbeknownst to you, sebastian walks slightly behind you two, needing to hear your voice one last time before leaving.

“he suggested fred, which i think is my new favorite choice. although, i like sebastian for his middle name,” you say, looking up at sherlock to gauge his reaction.

“that sounds like a wonderful idea my love,” he says, leaning down to press a loving kiss to your lips.

even though one year has passed, the colonel can still feel a unique hollowness deep in his chest. as he walks away from you, back to the manor, where he sleeps in a room you two once shared, he doesn’t know if that hollow feeling will ever recede.

#yuukoku no moriarty #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #moriarty the patriot #moriarty the patriot x reader #sebastian moran #sherlock holmes #bells responds

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a3hastakenovermylife · 3 years

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Ok, I really, really want some quality interaction between Kazunari and Taichi.

Like I know that we all joke about them because they’re our energetic, adorable, puppy pair, and yes, that is who they are on the surface. But, when you simplify their whole character arcs down to just that, you’re flattening their characters and you lose the depth that the game hints at for the both of them.

The game did a really great job at letting Taichi flush out a decent sized character arc, and concluded that story in a satisfying way during the Autumn Troupe arc. We see our sunshine boy upset, withdrawn, and separating himself from the others out of guilt. Then we see him distraught over the things he’s done and being comforted by Omi (honestly my favorite interaction in the whole series, second only to Juza and Banri high-fiving). Then we see him confessing to the others, and they all retell their portraits to one another, and Taichi finally gets to accept that he’s been forgiven, and more than that, that he’s been truly accepted into the troupe. For the first time, he gets to understand that he will get to act, he’s going to have the opportunity to do what he loves and he’s going to be able to do it with people he’s come to care so much about.

Taichi is in a much better place at the end of the Autumn Troupe arc, and we can see the potential for that to grow in the future. However, I do not feel like we get to nearly the same place with Kazunari.

With Kazunari, we begin to understand that he puts on a front with other people, that he acts all happy and tends to agree with everyone as to not ruffle any feathers. He’s never had a group of real friends before the Summer Troupe, and when confronted with the fact that he not only doesn’t have to pretend to be neutral, that his friends don't want him to be. Kazunari made some real progress here, he did stand tall and give his opinion, but he isn’t shown to make any other significant changes. Nor, can we tell whether this was a permanent change.

He’s still the same energetic Kazunari, friendly and fun-loving as always. I can’t help but feel like his character arc was left mostly incomplete, we know there's a problem, but we haven't taken many steps to fix it, nor does it seem like Kazu has had any change in attitude. He’s still bottling most of his emotions up, refusing to show anything other than his cheery smile.

Here’s where we get into some of my own characterization here, because as a freshmen art major myself, I know, I know, that college isn't easy. On top of all of that, trying to pretend that everything is fine, is like putting a band-aid on a stab wound. The longer you hold everything in, the more mentally isolated you make yourself. Even surrounded by kind, loving, caring people, you can feel totally alone. On top of that, place his pre-existing tendency to hide any and all of his real opinions and feelings, which isn't the kind of mental behavior you can fix overnight.

What you’re left with is a ticking time bomb.

No human being can be happy all the time. It's just not possible.

When a human being is upset, they will need help eventually. Especially, a college student, stepping out into the world for the first time on their own, a pseudo-adult who likes to pretend they've grown up already.

Kazunari needs that character arc of his to be finished, because right now, he's sitting in a limbo within which he can never truly be happy, or relaxed. Simply because he hasn’t taken the time to learn how to open up to his friends.

Now, here's where my Taichi and Kazu interaction comes in.

(Ok, I started this just as an idea post and lo and behold it became almost as long as a fic. This is literally just my word vomit, so I apologize in advance for any poor grammar, spelling mistakes, and unclear transitions that occur, but please enjoy and tell me if you want me to make this a proper fic)

Taichi has for the most part evolved through his character arc, he's in a good place now and is growing closer to everyone in the company. Meanwhile, Kazu seems to be falling out of sync with everyone, he’s way less chatty, he spends most of his time by himself, and while when he's actually in the room with them he is acting relatively normal. Every single time anybody asks him if something is bothering him, he laughs and brushes the concern off easily. However, his troupe mates can hear how forced the laugh sounds.

It’s something that happens over a few months, but Summer Troupe is very worried. They’ve taken to having weekly meetings in the common area while Kazu is doing his homework to try and puzzle out what’s been going on with him. The others share their concern as well, the point is that now the whole company is determined to get to the bottom of whatever is up with him.

I bet you anything that Omi notices the similarities right away. This is way to eerily similar to the way Taichi was acting during those last few weeks before everything came to light. He probably approaches Kazu to talk several times but is shut down at every turn by a forced laugh, or an easy excuse like ‘I’m just a bit tired.’ or ‘Just been super busy lately, that's all.’.

Taichi, himself, probably notices too, but he really doesn't want to stick his nose into something that felt so incredibly personal. He lets it go because he knows how helpful it was when his troupe mates let him talk out his troubles, and listened, and accepted him for all his faults. He feels if he buts in now, he’ll just take that opportunity from Kazu, and he’d never do something that.

The Summer Troupe keeps trying, and one night they all approach him at once, determined not to let this go until he fesses up. They all corner him in his room and start to ask questions, and Tenma and Yuki are almost certainly going to be coming off as being a bit harsh, but who can blame them Kazu has been worrying the both of them senseless for months, and neither of them are the type to mince their words.

Muku is especially emotional throughout the whole thing, he’s had a front row seat to this slow motion train-wreck this whole time, living in the same room as Kazu. He sees how late he stays up, and how often he gets no sleep at all, he's the one who sees the cracks beginning to form in the persona Kazu has built up for himself. He even mentions one particularly horrible night when Kazu was crying in his sleep. By that point though, Muku is relatively incomprehensible through his own crying.

Misumi is mostly watching, agreeing with the others, saying supportive words, but mostly standing aside, looking and feeling a little helpless.

This is Kazu’s breaking point. Kazu has been spiraling for months. It started with feeling horrible and stressed about his classes, then evolved to worrying about how he always hid that fact from the others, then to feeling guilty about being so dishonest about his feelings, then to feeling even more guilty about pushing them away when they were clearly worried and not being able to reciprocate their kindness with even the most basic courtesy of honesty.

Seeing all of them like this, pouring their hearts out to reach him, it just made him feel worse. He wanted them to understand, but some part of him was certain that they never could. That even if he could speak right then, that none of it could make them understand. There was also a traitorous part of his mind that heard Tenma’s frustrated shout and Yuki’s sarcastic drawl, and only hear accusation and condemnation.

He knew it was stupid, that his friends would never actually feel that way about him. He knew that.

That didn’t stop that little traitorous voice in his head from taking the steering wheel though, it didn’t stop it from completely taking over. He was on his feet and pushing past them out of the room before he even knew what he was doing. He vaguely recognized the feeling of someone grabbing a hold of his shoulder and he forcefully pulls away, running faster than he even knew he was capable of out of the dorm.

The voices calling for him to come back, concerned, worried, crying. Concern for him, and he can't even turn around to look at them, he can barely even hear them. He keeps running, longer than his body should have been able to run, faster than he ever thought possible. He tripped more than once and was left with scrapes from each time. The others tried to follow him, but in the darkness, it seems that none of them had succeeded.

Or maybe, the same voice whispered. They’ve just decided to give up on you.

Meanwhile, the Summer troupe meets back at the dorm, and they get the others to come help them look for Kazunari. To say the least, Summer Troupe is pretty distraught, all things considered. Muku is an even worse than he’d been earlier, having given up entirely on trying to talk, Yuki has made it his responsibility to keep Muku from falling over, having to prop him up through most of their search, and he’s become oddly quiet as he does so.

Misumi actually does cry for a few minuites for Kazu, he's so incredibly sad that he can’t seem to do anything to help. However, he doesn't let it keep him down. It's no more than five minutes before he stands up with a half-smile to help search for him again.

Tenma, is just oddly quiet, like way too quiet, more quiet than even Yuki. Only speaking in clipped one-word sentences, and mostly even then, only answering questions addressed to him. He's clearly frustrated, but more than that, he almost seems remorseful. By this point, he’s feeling pretty guilty and useless himself. He is the leader of this troupe after all, and it is his responsibility to take care of stuff like this isn’t it?

It’s early in the morning, and the whole company has been searching for hours when it starts to rain. It's at this point that the director just says that they should head back and get some sleep. Tenma does not take that order well. After a very loud and long argument with Tenma, the most that he’s spoken all night, he finally gives in when he sees the state the rest of his troupe is in, Muku has practically fainted already, Yuki was on the verge of tears himself and Misumi was just staring blankly into space dejectedly.

So, with that everyone heads back to the dorm to go to sleep.

------------

It’s only after they're back inside, dried off, and the lights are off that Taichi realizes that he can’t sleep. He was close with Kazu, they’d always meshed really well together and got along really well. When he’d seen a reflection of himself in Kazu, he'd let it go, and now he was really starting to regret it. He should have realized, that just because Taichi had had Omi to help him work up the courage to confess what he’d done to the rest of the troupe, and to help him sort out his feelings. Omi was practically an adult, he was so mature and always seemed to know what to do.

Summer Troupe didn't really have an Omi. Kazu was actually the oldest of the bunch of them. He should have spoken up sooner, tried to help Kazu through it, if he’d just said something earlier, the situation might not have gotten this far out of control. Taichi had desperately needed someone to give him the courage to speak up when he’d been in such a dark place and, something told him that Kazu needed the same thing, and that nothing would change at all until he got that much.

He might have school in a few hours, and it might still be raining, but Taichi honestly didn't care. He couldn't sit still any longer. He got up from the covers, and grabbed his jacket and was about to open the door to their room when he heard Omi sit up.

“You’re going to go look for Kazunari aren’t you?” He asked.

Taichi blinked and stammered, trying to come up with some other excuse, and epically failing. It was too hard to lie to Omi though, especially after everything that had happened between them. Omi just chuckled, and told him not to worry so much. Omi stood and opened his own closet, pulling out a spare backpack, and placing a large towel, an oversized poncho, and an umbrella in the bag, then handed it to Taichi. Then silently lead Taichi along to the kitchen, where he pulled out a large thurmace and heated up some hot cocoa to put inside, then handed that to Taichi as well.

“I think that you might be one of the only people who can get through to Kazunari, you realize that too don’t you?” Omi said softly, as to not wake the others. Taichi nodded emphatically, a little stunned that Omi was just letting him go no matter how irresponsible of an idea it was. “Alright, then. Good luck, and bring him home.”

Taichi nodded and just as soon as he had gotten outside he started running. It was still dark and rainy, but at least there were plenty of streetlights. He called out to Kazunari and he called and called. Mostly though, Taichi was looking, looking for any sign of a person, anywhere. By now, he was pretty sure that Kazu wasn’t going to reply to the call, but he did it anyway, just in case.

Eventually, about an hour in, his voice got raw and he needed to take a break. He stopped talking, and sat down on just some random street corner, not caring one bit that his pants were now wet.

It wasn't any good, he wasn't going to find him was he?

He sat dejectedly on the concrete, just listening to the rain and feeling his pants begin to get soggy. He didn't know how long he sat there before he heard it.

It was faint, so incredibly quiet, that even the light sound of raindrops nearly drowned it out entirely.

Yet, if he listened hard enough he heard crying. He hoped he wasn't just his desperation getting to him, making him hear things. He stood up eagerly anyway, staying silent and trying to follow the sound before it stopped. It was hard, really hard, and the sky was starting to lighten just a minuscule shade when he finally made it to the mouth of the alley.

There Kazu was, Taichi could just barely make out the top of his head poking out from behind a stack of abandoned boxes. He was absolutely drenched to the bone, there was no way he wasn't going to get sick after this. He was crying softly, his head ducked and his arms hugging himself.

Taichi carefully approached Kazu and found himself at a loss for a moment. The very last thing he wanted was for him to run off again, and he really didn't want to startle him either. What he settled on was taking the umbrella and the towel out, and holding the umbrella with one arm, while he dried Kazu’s head off to the best of his ability with only one arm to work with. Kazu stiffened but didn't move, his crying coming to an abrupt halt as he held his breath.

“Hey, Kazu. It’s just me, Taichi.”

Kazunari gave a shaky sigh of relief at his voice. “Damn, Tai-chan don’t scare me like that ok? Thought you were gonna mug me or something...” It was clear that Kazu was trying to put up his barriers again, and not quite managing it.

“Sorry, about that.” Taichi apologized, more than a little relieved that Kazunari had actually spoken to him right off the bat. That was farther than the rest of Summer Troupe had gotten. Taichi fumbled a bit before he decided to sit next to Kazu, after it seemed clear that he wasn’t too keen on moving.

Silence settled between the two of them, Kazu seemed to be trying desperately to reign his emotions back under control. Taichi was just trying to think of how to start this, what to say. He thought about how Omi had approached him, but something told Taichi that Kazu wouldn't connect well with that.

It didn't help that he had no idea why Kazu was so upset, or what had caused this, or if anything really had caused it. There might not be one cause. It was more than a little overwhelming, Taichi really really really didn't want to mess this up.

He couldn’t do nothing again though, that wasn't an option, he had to say something, anything.

He decided, to just say whatever came to mind. To say how he felt, and hope to every god out there that it reached him.

“You know, it’s impossible for a person to be happy all the time, don't you?” Taichi asked. Kazunari didn't respond, and Taichi decided that was ok. He’d just keep talking for now. “I won’t pretend that I know why you’re so upset, because I don’t. It’s ok if you don't really want to talk about it right now, I get it. Though, if you’re up to it, I would really appreciate it if you listened to my story.”

Taichi waited until he saw Kazunari nod, the other teen seemingly relaxing a bit beside him. Taichi smiled at the sight, and began to speak.

(Authors note: in this story only Autumn troupe and Yuki (+ the director) know about the fact that Taichi was a mole. Not because they're keeping secrets, just because the others never asked and nobody thought to tell them. Mostly, I don't know for sure if any of the others know, and I like to imagine that they don't know, or at least not the full story.)

Taichi essentially performed his portrait for Kazunari, by the end the other teen was actually looking up at him. Taichi continued though, even after his story normally ended.

“You see, whatever you feel so upset about, guilty about even, I doubt it'll be worse than the things I've done. Even if it is, I know that your troupe mates would listen and try their best to understand why. No matter what it is, no matter what might have happened. They care a lot about you, and the only reason they got so frustrated is because they hate seeing you hurting like this, they were only trying to help, you know...”

“Yeah, I know that...” Kazu looked away again. Though, this time he didn't curl in on himself like before, he leaned back and looked to the sky, which was already beginning to lighten in color. “How did you know I was feeling guilty?”

“I guess, I can just tell? I don't know, it's a bit freaky actually.” Taichi gave a nervous chuckle, then his expression softened a bit to match the sincerity in hie voice. “I saw your expression, and it was almost like I was looking in the mirror, I got this weird sense of de ja vu, and I could just tell. That probably doesn’t make any sense does it...”

“Never experienced it myself, but I get what you're talking about.” Kazu replied with a sigh, closing his eyes. The two of them stay quiet for a minute, Taichi got the feeling that Kazunari was just on the verge of telling him something, so he was patient, giving the other teen the chance to gather his thoughts.

“You know, hearing all that you just said, it almost makes me feel a bit silly. This is such a stupid thing to get so worked up over, ‘ya know.” Kazu shook his head at himself. “It’s always been stupid, and I’ve always known that but I can't help it. I’m always terrified of what others will think, if I don't keep a smile on my face. More than that, I’m so used to pushing all of my worries aside that I don’t even know how to face them anymore. I just ignore them, until I can’t anymore.” Kazu swallowed thickly, leaning forward again and running a hand through his still, thoroughly damp hair. “I don’t want to keep hiding my real feelings, it's just that each time I get even slightly uncomfortable, it's easier to just put the mask back on. I can’t help it, and that’s terrifying, ya know. I want the others to know when I’m stressed or upset, its not like I want to keep hiding it from them, but it never seems like the right time to let the facade fall. They're so used to me being happy, that I don't think they understand how much of it is fake. What happens when I let everything out, and they realize that I've been lying to them? Will they even be able to stand me, as I am now? They’re friends with the energetic, fun-loving Kazunari Miyoshi, not me. I don’t know if any of them have ever even met this side of me, I'm hardly even the same person. I really don’t want to ruin this place, I really really love it here. I’m happier living here than I've ever been in my life, I don’t know what I'd do if everything fell apart...” Kazu trailed off.

“I don’t think anything is going to fall apart, Kazu. Things’ll change a bunch, but nothing will be ruined. You don’t even need to do anything more than just explain this to your troupe. Even if they don’t get it at first, they’ll do everything they’re capable of to help you, I just know it. Also, I think that you’re more likely to push them away continuing on as you are, than you are if you just tried to explain.” “You don’t have to try and handle this all by yourself. Please, try and explain this to them. Trust me when I say that you’ll feel better afterwards.”

“You really think it’ll turn out alright?”

“I know it will.”

Kazunari gave a breathy chuckle. “How can you be so sure?”

Taichi smiled wanly and thought about earlier that evening...

“’The hell? How can you even say that?! You really expect me to just go back to the dorm when Kazunari is out here somewhere, all by himself! If we don't find him soon, who knows what’ll happen! Who know’s what’s already happened? He could have been mugged in an alley somewhere by now, and we’d have no idea!”

“Tenma...”

“I’m not going back.”

“Tenma, please stop and listen for a second. Everyone is exhausted, we aren’t going to make any progress like this. If we sleep for even an hour or two and get back to it, we’re more likely to find him, ok?”

“There’s nothing ‘ok’ about any of this!”

“Alright, maybe ‘ok’ wasn’t the right word for this situation, but Tenma...” The director leaned in to whisper something into Tenma’s ear. Immediately the teen star glanced over his shoulder and saw the state of his troupe mates and his stiff angered posture melted. Tenma silently nodded and sighed.

“I really fucked up this whole ‘troupe leader’ thing, didn’t I?”

“Kazu, your entire troupe is convinced that they've failed you in some way or another, especially Tenma-kun. He was so upset earlier that he actually started yelling at the director, like a real argument and not his usual antics. They want to help you more than anything else, and the entire company feels the same way. This isn’t because they want they want you to go back to how you were, its because you’re in pain and they want to help you. Whether that means that you stop putting on that mask entirely, or just start by learning not to rely on it too much, I know they'll be willing to support you no matter what you decide to do, so long as you’re beginning to get better.”

“I’m here too, if you ever want to talk to somebody who gets it a little better. It's hard being yourself, and it's easy to hide so you won't get hurt when someone rejects you. I get that, Kazu, and I do it too sometimes. So, if you need to talk to someone outside of your Troupe, and maybe even get advice on how to make them understand, I’m here too.”

“Kazu, you’ve got so many people waiting for you at home who want to help you, all you have to do is open up and let them. Try and help them understand, and let them do the rest. That’s all you can do, and I guarantee you, that nobody will be upset if you admit that you’re only human, that you can't be happy all the time. Nobody in the troupe has ever expected that of you, even if they’ve gotten used to your antics, they won't judge you for the fact that you can’t keep them up. The only thing, that you have to decide to do for them to accept you as you are, is to explain this to them. That’s all, and nobody can take that first step other than you.” Taichi said seriously.

“I also happen to know how hard it is to take that first step, by yourself. I had Omi to help me along, he pushed me to tell the others what I’d done, even when I was convinced they could never forgive me, and even that I didn't deserve to be forgiven. He’s the one that helped me take that first step, and I’d like to do that too, for you.” Taichi looked up at the sky which was rapidly changing to a much brighter shade of blue.

“The others will probably wake up again soon, if we head back now, we might catch them before they leave the dorm again. Please, let me take you home, so we can talk to your troupe mates and sort this all out. I know that probably sounds impossible right now, but I know you can do it, and I’ll be right by your side while you do it. So, what do you say?”

Kazunari sighed shakily and nodded, looking absolutely exhausted. “I think I can do it, if it's just my troupe and you I think I can try and explain all of this. I just hope they understand.”

Taichi grinned brightly, feeling a wash of relief rush over him. “Really?! Wow, thank you for trusting me Kazu!” He let out a short bark of laughter. “I’ll be honest, was really floundering there for a while. I didn't know what so say at all, I’m so glad I didn’t make things even worse...” Taichi let out a sigh of relief. “Sorry about that, I ended up just spewing my feelings all over you there....”

“You said all the right things Tai-chan, at least I think so. I feel a lot better, if you'll really be with me I think I can manage this. Even if I still don't know if this’ll turn out alright, I'm going to trust your judgement over mine on this one, because clearly my judgement is all out of wack, today...”. Kazunari paused and shook his head to himself. “Actually my judgment has been out of commission for a while now, I think. The point is, I cant really trust myself right now, so I'm going to trust you, ok?” Kazunari’s voice was a bit shaky, but he put some effort into sounding reassuring for Taichi’s sake.

———————— ok POV switch heh

Taichi blinked and stared blankly at Kazunari for a solid minute before he seemed to gather himself, the words finally having settled in. With a mighty sniff Taichi wiped his eyes and dashed away the tears that hadn’t even had the chance to fall. “Thanks Kazunari, that means a lot. I won’t let you down, I promise.” Taichi grinned brightly, his voice gaining a steelly determination behind it. Taichi then, handed Kazunari the umbrella to hold and turned to pull something from the backpack he’d been carrying. Kazunari stared as Taichi placed a thick plastic poncho on his lap and a large thurmace in his other hand and took the umbrella from Kazunari once again.

“You actually managed to run pretty far away from the dorm, so you should put that poncho on, and there’s hot cocoa that Omi made in there. Even if you don’t want to drink it, just open it and hold it. At least the heat will warm you up a bit.” Taichi said, and he almost sounded like director, the way he was fussing over him.

Kazunari was certain that his cheeks were flushed red, but he was equally sure that was only because he was freezing. It definitely wasn’t because he was embarrassed or anything.

“Hey do you want me to call us a ride? I think that might be better than walking all the way back. Plus, it’ll give them a heads up so nobody leaves to look for us.” Taichi asked, and Kazunari almost immediately shook his head.

“I’m soaked to the bone and I seriously don’t need a lecture from Sakyo for ruining the apoulstry of his car, right now.” Kazunari laughed at his own joke, too bad the joke was too close to the truth. He really didn’t want to soak up and ruin anyone’s car by getting inside it the way he was.

Taichi’s smile wavered, he didn’t laugh. Then he took out his phone and was engrossed in typing for a minute, before Kazu realized what he was doing. He propped himself up against the wall and stood, and was shocked to see how hard it was to do so. His vision almost immediately started blurring and darkening as Kazunari leaned against the wall for support.

“Hey, wait! I can walk I swear, don’t call anybody here, I’m fine!” Kazunari blurted just as he heard the message send.

“Sakyo isn’t the only adult in our troupe with a car, you know.” Taichi replied, a little softly. Then, he nervously tapped his foot for a moment before he made eye contact with Kazu again, and spoke. “You said that you were going to trust me earlier, didn’t you? You can’t get all the way home like you are now, and unfortunately, I’m not strong enough to carry you all the way back.”

Kazunari blinked, and sighed.

He did ask for this after all.

He however, refused to sit down. He was gonna lean right against that wall until the ride came, whoever they were. That thought didn’t last more than five minutes though. Kazunari blinked furiously to clear the spots from his vision to no avail. Then, sighed in defeat and leaned against the wall to slide back down to the asphalt.

Taichi gave him a concerned look and Kazunari tried to ignore it, it was just then he was saved by the appearance of a vehicle, and almost immediately Kazu recognized it as Itaru’s. The car parked and Itaru opened got out of the car to join them.

Kazunari had to look away, because a part of him still couldn’t stand the wave of guilt when he saw the worry in his gaze. So, he fiddled with the hem of his shirt, like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

“Thanks, Itaru, for coming to pick us up.” Taichi said extra cheerily, though there was a dash of genuine grstitude hidden in there.

“It’s no problem. I’m glad you asked me, the others were already waking up and getting restless. They were almost about to start searching for you again when you texted me.” Itaru said with a wan smile of his own. “So, let’s get you two back to the dorm. Do you need a hand there Kazunari?”

“Nah’ I’m fi-“. Kazunari was about to say when Taichi pulled him up and propped him up.

“Yeah, Kazu, my buddy, nobody is gonna fall for that.”

“Alright, ok!” Kazunari sighed, and said “I’m super woozy and can barely stand up, yes I’d love some help.” He was too tired to keep up with this. Let the others do what they want, he’s taking a nap when he gets in that car.

Kazunari could hear Itaru let out a relieved chuckle, Taichi did the same not long afterward. When did he close his eyes?

“Happy to help, then.” Itaru idly commented as Kazu heard a car door open, he was gently shuffled into what he assumed was the back seat and his head was definitely resting on Taichi’s shoulder.

Someone strapped his seatbelt on, he assumed it was Taichi, and he heard the drivers door open and admit someone as well, probably Itaru getting in.

Kazunari was definitely getting sleepy and the last thing he remembered hearing, he wasn’t even sure he was dreaming yet or not. But the last thing be remembered hearing, was Taichi whisper.

“Sleep well, everything will turn out ok, I promise it will.”

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clovermunson · 3 years

Text

my hogwarts au

after a post from @words-and-wands, @that-ravenpuff-witch, and @cleverglitteryfoxtrot, I’ve decided to hop in and make my own as well!

possible with the help of:

extended sorting hat quiz

extended patronus quiz (recommend taking on desktop)

some tumblr research lol

enjoy, y’all!!☺️💕 (rather long, so everything is under the cut!)

House: Gryffindor

“You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry,

Set Gryffindors apart”

every time I took the pottermore quiz, I’d always either gotten Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. after taking the wizardmore quiz (for the second time lmao) my results were as follows:

Gryffindor: 75% (2400)

Ravenclaw: 10% (250)

Slytherin: 10% (250)

Hufflepuff: 5% (100)

after a few times of taking the pottermore quiz and mostly getting Ravenclaw, I’d just accepted the fact that I was a Ravenclaw, until taking the wizardmore quiz, where Gryffindor vastly outweighs the other results. I’ll admit, it did take a while for me to accept that I am a true Gryffindor, but I did eventually come to terms with it and fully embrace it. huge thanks to Rosie (@cleverglitteryfoxtrot) for helping me with that!!

patronus (weighted):

top two:

Wolf (88%)

Dragon (87%)

on the pottermore quiz, I got the wolf as my patronus when I took it in November of last year, and earlier in 2020.

analysis for the wolf:

The wolf is a bit of a darker and mysterious soul, with the strength of a fighter. A person with this patronus has had a lot happen in their life, and do to that they wear a mask over their emotions. They do, however, have a very big heart that is full of both passion and fire. They have a lot of emotion within them that they are willing to give, but only once they completely trust you, and since they have been made cynical over the years this can be difficult. (via: @patron-a-bum)

I can see why a wolf patronus would be most suited for me, as the wolf usually chooses someone who hasn’t had the easier life and maybe hardships, but still overcame them in the end. I tend to bottle up my emotions and “mask” them from the world, only to save face. I’m quite cynical most of the time, as a result of some rather sour life experiences.

the dragon though, is a result I never expected. I never saw myself having the possibility of a rare patronus, but I can see where the personality qualities could match.

analysis for the dragon:

The dragon represents an inner element, one that is prominent in peoples with this patronus. The element can vary, but quite often it is fire. There is a strong passion and ambition in this person, and a fury like no other. This does not mean they are an angry person, though they do have a tendency to be temperamental, but merely that they have a drive that fuels them throughout their whole self. They can be impulsive, but luckily this is combined with good instinct and reaction, so they don’t find themselves regretting their choices very often. They tend to encase their emotions within themselves, and in that way can seem very cold and blunt. (via: @patron-a-bum)

sometimes, I am very blunt, which makes some perceive me as “uncaring” or “harsh”. I tend to be very ambitious and hold a high sense of passion for the things I love. I can also be very temperamental at times, especially if I’ve had a particularly stressful day. I’ve been quite impulsive as well, often not thinking before I act.

wand:

aspen wood

dragon heartstring core

10 3/4 inches

slightly springy flexibility

wand wood analysis:

“Wand-quality aspen wood is white and fine-grained, and highly prized by all wand-makers for its stylish resemblance to ivory and its usually outstanding charmwork. The proper owner of the aspen wand is often an accomplished duelist, or destined to be so, for the aspen wand is one of those particularly suited to martial magic. An infamous and secretive eighteenth-century dueling club, which called itself The Silver Spears, was reputed to admit only those who owned aspen wands. In my experience, aspen wand owners are generally strong-minded and determined, more likely than most to be attracted by quests and new orders; this is a wand for revolutionaries.” (via pottermore)

“Ollivander calls aspen a wand for revolutionaries; however, revolutions are never one by a single person, they are won with a group of people dedicated to the same cause. For aspen wand owners, a yearning for justice comes out as them being executors, of sorts.

They have strong wills to act physically in favor of their moral vision (or justice), and play the role of a follower as well. They want to execute orders, and have the quick reflexes and dueling skills to do so. Their adaptability is the root of aspen’s reputation as wand of survivors (like fir). They are also minimalists who do not like a lot of clutter in their living space.

They are sentimental for only a few of their possessions. When compared to Poplar and Black Poplar, the Aspen is the least associated with death.

As such, communication comes easier for them than Black Poplar owners, who often feel detached from other people. The elemental composition of aspen is primarily fire and ice based. There is talent with charmwork, dueling, martial magics, as well as ancient rituals and magics. Silver, white, and black sparks are emitted from this wand during spellwork. Its magic smells of chimney smoke, peppermint, and snow. Aspen is attracted to cores with strong-willed and exacting natures. This wand has great precision and can perform the most delicate of spellwork while also packing a punch.” (via: @cloverywands)

wand core analysis:

“If your wand is dragon heartstring, this core as a rule produces ‘wands with the most power, and which are capable of the most flamboyant spells. Dragon wands tend to learn more quickly than other types. While they can change allegiance if won from their original master, they always bond strongly with the current owner. The dragon wand tends to be the easiest to turn to the Dark Arts, though it will not incline that way of its own accord. It is also the most prone of the three cores to accidents, being somewhat temperamental.” (via: pottermore)

I’ve always believed that an aspen wand would be best suited for me. of the three most popular cores (dragon heartstring, phoenix feather, and unicorn hair), I’ve always found I have a particular connection of sorts to the dragon heartstring core. I believe this is due to my own temperamental nature and me being a rather quick learner.

and there we have it, that’s my own personal hogwarts au!☺️ I hope y’all enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed making it!

#hogwarts au #personal #file this under get to know me lol #cause this basically says everything about my personality lmao #get to know me #mo speaks

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incarnation-of-victory · 3 years

Text

“He doesn’t take himself into account...”

I was contemplating how Deku’s fatal flaw of “not taking himself into account” is going to be resolved, and, assuming that it’s going to be in the form of some kind of talk with his friends/family/peers/mentors, here are some of my ideas on the problem itself and how some characters might approach it (A.K.A. 80% of this is in regards to Bakugou and then there’s a paragraph at the end about how Shouto relates to Deku, because I haven’t thought enough about the other characters yet. There is no cure for “Head empty, just-Bakugou” syndrome):

*Manga spoilers up to ~295*

I've seen debate over whether or not Deku does indeed have a self-worth problem, and while I do agree that it is a factor, I also think it’s a little more complicated than that. The way I see it, Deku is a lot like Bakugou: he hinges his self-worth on whether or not he can save everyone, much like how Bakugou hinges his self-worth on whether or not he can achieve a perfect victory. They both have unstable egos which fluctuate depending on whether or not they can fulfill their ideals.

So I don’t think it’s quite as simple as Deku thinking: “Everyone says I’m worthless so they must be right,” but it's more that he’s constantly trying to challenge that label. He has the confidence/perseverance to think, “Everyone says I’m worthless so I have to constantly prove them wrong—and more importantly, I have to prove it to myself so I don’t actually succumb to the even deeper fear that maybe I actually am worthless after all.” So essentially, Deku’s constantly under the pressure of people’s expectations of him. And this pressure comes from more than just society once Deku is bestowed with OFA. Sound familiar?

Well, it’s a lot like how it was for Bakugou. Deku came into the world graceless and unskilled, even before being diagnosed as Quirkless, so the world formed that perception of him accordingly. Deku was deemed worthless, so he feels the need to surpass that designation out of fear that he will regress to it if he doesn’t meet his goals. Bakugou was a natural-born talent, even before getting his Quirk, so the world had high expectations of him to be good at everything, always strong, and never require help. So for Bakugou, if he fails to meet those standards, his self-esteem drops and he feels similarly weak (though he's now outgrown this to some extent).

More specifically, Deku now has one of the most powerful Quirks in the world, OFA, which comes with very high expectations—not unlike how Bakugou’s Quirk, Explosion, is very powerful and as such comes with a similar expectation that he must be the strongest and better than everyone else. In Deku’s case, however, it’s a little different because OFA is tied to a kind of legacy-driven destiny: it was created for the sole purpose of defeating AFO (the person, and the Quirk, I suppose—the two are so entangled, reasonably). Deku has gotten to the point that he feels the full weight of this expectation, and that he’s desperately afraid he won’t meet it. So in his mind, he has to fulfill the goal of OFA, even at the cost of his own life. Not just so All Might, who chose him, won’t regret his decision, or that others will be disappointed in him, but also because the fate of the world & people’s safety very much hang in the balance. Furthermore, as a OFA user, he feels that it’s his responsibility to deal with AFO and nobody else’s, which is probably part of why he’s reluctant to rely on others’ help.

Deku pledged to Bakugou that he would make OFA his own, and Bakugou often checks up on his progress for that reason, so I think it makes sense that Bakugou would be involved in trying to remind Deku that he is his own person outside of OFA’s own goals. It’s a bit like how AFO quite literally possesses Shigaraki to pursue his own goals: OFA (the person/the Quirk?) does the same by overriding Deku’s dreams and well-being, even if it’s for a noble cause. I think Bakugou very much recognizes how OFA is cursed in this manner too (though at the same time, he’s acknowledged that it’s done a lot of good too and has the potential to do even more).

Additionally, Bakugou also benefits from Deku making OFA his own: so they can finally settle once and for all, who the better the hero is (he also wants it for Deku’s own sake too, of course). A “Deku vs. Kacchan 3” is in order for that reason, but I don’t think it’s going to be in the conventional format of a brawl, because at this point, it’s clear that raw power alone is not enough to become the best hero. So we’ll see how that goes.

Despite all of this, would it still be valuable for people to remind Deku of his own inherent self-worth? Perhaps. I think Deku could benefit from relating to Bakugou most on how failing to meet your own expectations doesn’t automatically make you weak/worthless/a loser.

Because I feel that there’s a fine line between feeling motivated to get back up again after failing vs. having your self-worth plummet if you fall just below the standards you’ve set for yourself. And Deku and Bakugou toe that line a lot. How would you reconcile this issue, you ask? Well, I wouldn’t personally know, because:

I still feel that Deku & Bakugou’s tendency to fall into that pit of self-negativity is a little unhealthy… but that could just me. I think Bakugou having a similar guilt complex, where he pins a lot of blame on himself for his mistakes (which is sometimes overly harsh/misplaced), is also not the best mentality. I’m still of the opinion that Bakugou’s continued sense of responsibility (read: guilt) over All Might’s end is somewhat misplaced/misguided, even if well-intentioned, but again, we have yet to see the narrative confirm this as a lasting issue or not.

Which brings me to Bakugou’s sequence of thoughts/recollections in 285: Bakugou Katsuki: Rising. Again, I think it’s important to keep in mind that Bakugou has a tendency to be a little harsh on himself, so his own perception of his culpability in influencing Deku may be a tad overblown (this also applies to any narrator when we see the story from their perspective: they’re always going to have their own biases).

I’ve read and re-read Bakugou’s flashback sequence as he begins to rise, and because Bakugou is such a visual thinker and less of a linguistic one, his flashbacks, without proper wording, can be vague. I think there’s multiple ways you can interpret this sequence, and while at first I was confused by it and found it disjointed, I then tried looking at it as a kind of thematic, three-act structure, where the images all sorta build on each other.

When Bakugou thinks of OFA as a “cursed power,” he flashes back to middle school when he mocked Deku’s desire to apply to U.A. in front of the class.

And then when he thinks about OFA in a positive light, as associated with All Might, he focuses on All Might’s face and then flashes back to Deku’s hero notebook that he blew up and tossed in the pond, which is again, another rejection of Deku.

And then he remembers Deku pushing back against him instead in Deku vs. Kacchan 1, when he tells Bakugou he won’t be his “worthless punching bag Deku forever,” pledging that he’ll from now on be “the Deku who always does his best.”

Except the next image we get of Deku in place of the past, positive one, is one of him destroying himself in real time, where he appears ominous, haunting, almost kind of mad or possessed. And Bakugou is not pleased by it.

So one way the pattern here could be read: Bakugou recalls all the times he put Deku down, only for him to get back up again, which parallels how Deku reacted against society’s "worthless" perception of him. This also kind of works in conjunction with another pattern: 1) Deku (while in possession of OFA) is conflated with AFO/OFA, 2) Deku (while in possession of OFA) is conflated with All Might, 3) Bakugou’s conclusion: Deku isn’t quite either of those and is instead, his own person. OFA is his own and exists to serve Deku’s goal of being “the Deku who always does his best.” The only problem is that the Deku here hasn’t quite realized that yet.

Either way, it seems like Bakugou feels he at least partly contributed to this marginalization of Deku. Maybe a part of him thinks, "If only I'd been supportive of him from the beginning… then maybe he wouldn't be like this now… that he wouldn't be in this position…"

While, as compared to where he was at during DvK1, Bakugou does now accept the new meaning of “does his best” Deku, at the moment, this Deku isn't currently matching up to that version. The distinction here is that this current image of Deku isn’t a positive one, it’s negative.

It’s a picture of Deku destroying himself for a dream which isn’t his, perhaps out of a sense of obligation. Because as Deku puts it, he feels blessed for all he currently has: for being at U.A., having All Might as his mentor, and being able to have a normal-ish conversation with Bakugou.

But he still has this imposter syndrome way of thinking that he got this all through luck, that he’s undermining his own virtues and skills. Possibly because he does have low self-worth. I think of it like this: Deku is probably aware on some level that OFA comes with risks, that it has a lot of baggage and is probably kind of cursed, but Deku’s so grateful for the chance to become a hero, and desperately so, that he’s willing to accept even the worst of consequences to himself.

Here’s a good comic from a Japanese artist on Twitter that encompasses this idea of OFA taking advantage of Deku’s hero ambitions, before Bakugou stops him: https://twitter.com/j_nobu4/status/1344244583148863488?s=20 (rough translation in the replies, but you get the gist from the images). I think it’s a surprisingly accurate depiction of canon events, and partly inspired a lot of my ideas here!

Either way, it probably doesn’t help that All Might conveniently forgot to mention all the warning labels and side effects that come with OFA before giving it to Deku, but I digress.

And I think it’s also possible that, because he’s so grateful and feels like he’s been gifted with this new, privileged life, a part of him is afraid that he might lose it all—his friends, his life at U.A., All Might’s approval, OFA itself—if he fails to meet the expectations set out for him. That maybe he won’t deserve it anymore. I mean, hell, he already tried to give Mirio OFA once before—it’s probably no coincidence his “better” showed up to the Shigaraki fight to make him feel inadequate again. Not only that, Deku never expected to be able to speak to Bakugou again. And yet, in a sad kind of way, it was only after finally getting a Quirk, OFA, that the two are given a means to reconnect again.

I admit all of that is a bit convoluted, but either way, I feel like Bakugou does feel guilty for belittling Deku, and that it could be helpful for him to remind Deku of his own inherent worth outside of OFA, even more than just as a hero, but as a person. Because someone’s worth shouldn’t just be based solely on how many people they save or how many battles they win. Every human being has value simply for existing. And that’s mainly why Bakugou jumped in to save Deku at the end of 285. It wasn’t because he was consciously thinking about OFA getting lost/stolen, or reconciling with Deku, or Deku losing his dream, or his even own ambitions. At that moment, he simply had that instinct to save someone who was in trouble.

I think the person whose words would have the most effect on Deku in this case would be Bakugou. Firstly, Bakugou was one of the main people in his life who constantly belittled him and made him feel worthless (obviously not the ONLY cause, but one of the major ones). I think, in one sense, not only does Deku highly value Bakugou’s opinion, it would also be quite validating to have the person who used to think you were worthless tell you that you really aren’t. It’d mean a lot if Bakugou, who gave Deku his deprecating nickname in the first place, revealed to him that he now acknowledges the new, positive meaning of it. Of course, it’s still unclear, from Deku’s perspective, how much he holds Bakugou accountable for how he treated him, so whether or not this would mean much to him is still in the air.

Anyway, on the note of Deku making his Quirk his own, an abrupt segue: I feel that Todoroki can also quite relate to that dilemma. After all, Deku was the one who had to break Shouto out of the mentality that his fire was an extension of his father, rather than his own. So a similar “It’s your power, isn’t it?” moment would make sense here. Both Deku and Shouto have this legacy that’s thrust upon them, but they shouldn’t necessarily be beholden to upholding them.

I think one of the main themes of BNHA is about legacy, and the trend, to me, is that the current generation can learn a lot from the previous generation, but ultimately, the heroes of now have to form a new, improved legacy, however that may be. After all, the current hero society is very flawed, and heroes like All Might and Endeavor contributed to its state (for better or worse), even if they also had merits at the same time. OFA and AFO, too, mimic that concept of legacy, in that the Quirks started as a feud between two brothers, and that it shouldn’t be Deku or Shigaraki’s responsibility to resolve it. Rather, their Quirks should be used to fulfill their own visions, regardless of what they are. So there’s something they could bond over, among other obvious things...

Obviously, there’s probably going to be more people and other various moving parts involved, but Bakugou and Todoroki were the ones I thought most about in regards to Deku’s development here (the former more than the latter, clearly). Maybe I’ll make a continuation later or probably not because I don’t care about the other characters nearly as much. Jokes aside, I do think the final battle is going to require more than Deku and Bakugou’s efforts, because I think this one showed that they certainly can’t do it on their own.

#meant to post this weeks ago but never got around to it #bnha manga #deku analysis

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dangan-happy · 3 years

Note

Password: Give me back my glitter, Monomi!

This is basically to anyone, but I guess if you want any preferences, maybe have Miu, Nekomaru, Toko, and/or Ibuki do this, as those are some of my friend's favorites (TW: mention of s//icidal tendencies)

So, this is more about/for someone I care about, so I figured I'd say that first and foremost.

So let's just call them... V. Yeah, V works just fine! Anyway, me and V are super close, and I love them very much. However, as blunt and harsh as this may sound, they're very unstable. They have DID (which I'm fine with, as I've befriended a good amount of their alters), amongst depression, ADHD, and now some bipolar (they experience lots of mood swings and other things that fall under it). They currently don't go to therapy (as far as I know, last time it was mentioned), medication seems to be a hit or miss (more of a miss though), their household situation has been and continues to be extremely toxic (which stunts any immense progress), and well, they live in a shitty state (hint hint, California, No offense to those who live there, but I'm a blunt person. Shitty weather and then some, as far as I know). Now, I acknowledge all of this, and acknowledge that mental health isn't linear and that I can't help everyone. Basically, common sense stuff. However, I pretty much feel like a failure whenever I help them. Perhaps I am a failure.

They have their positive/happy moments, sure, but then like a roller coaster: What comes up sadly comes down. It doesn't help that they're mildly sad/neutral at best and extremely s//icidal at worst on most days, which okay, I understand why. It's just... they say such promising things, and yet, my help/support/comfort/etc. is essentionally rubber bullets hitting a metal wall. In fact, I almost feel like I make them mentally worse, and make their DID worse as well. They'll say things like, "If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be here. I'm so grateful to have you in my life," "I appreciate your help so much," stuff like that. They're not a evil, manipulative person who guilt trips people, so that's off the table. And while they're usually an honest person, my inner demons and immense self-loathing continue to block out me accepting this truth (this also goes for other people who say such nice things). The trauma they've been through (and sadly continue to go through) is thick and terrible, and if I could, I'd help them more than I can. But at this rate, I'm almost afraid that, s//icide letter or not, they'll suddenly, well... no longer be in this world, and they'll actually not regret their decision. Maybe they'll miss me and others, sure, but feel as though it was 'for the best' (they believe in the usual reasoning behind why ending their life would be 'for the best', which clearly isn't true).

I'm making this too long, so I should try to wrap this up. TL;DR Someone who I deeply love is usually on edge due to severe mental illnesses branched from immense trauma, and while I do my best to help them and acknowledge common sense things, I feel as though I'm always failing them and then some. Ah, if you could give V some comfort, support, reassurance, and maybe even some hugs and kisses on the cheek (especially from those like Ibuki and Nekomaru; they like you a whole lot), then I'd appreciate that. I ask for nothing for myself; I only want it for them and them only. Thank you, and sorry for making this longer than it probably should've been.

Woah, thank goodness you put that little TLDR, Ibuki got really confused halfway through, but never fear anonymous, Ibuki’s on the case! Ooo, that sounded so sophisticated & mysterious all in one go..

Hey, hey, the important thing to know when dealing with these kinds of situations is that you’re trying your best in wanting to help them. Sometimes, people need more than simple words, but the fact that you’re trying really says a lot.

Ibuki would be honoured to give them some hugs, kisses & kind words to go along with it! Ibuki believes in them with all her heart, she also knows that life gets hard & even a little messed up, but overcoming these obstacles makes us more rock n’ roll in the end! There’s no need to be sorry about a long message, even so, Ibuki was able to grasp the gist of it..

But really! Ibuki does think that this friend of yours can make it through this.. Oh, right, kiss on the cheek! Multiple kisses on the cheeks! And she will be here for you if you need a shoulder to cry on, a person to hug aaaaand need someone to goof off with!

#danganronpa #danganronpa roleplay blog #ask #ibuki mioda #mod rockstar #tw suicidal tendencies #suicidal tendencies mention

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amynchan · 4 years

Text

It’s called “slice of time”

And it’s a thing I do. It helps me, so maybe it might help someone else. So Imma write about it here on tumblr because this is basically a void of a space and I still have the right to yell about random stuff in here, so Imma yell about random stuff in here.

Anyways. This is how a big ol’ baby like me deals with pain that won’t shut up. I don’t have ch/ronic pain, so I don’t think this would be helpful for those who do (sorry. :(( ). Instead, this is for people like me who tend to overthink their physical pain to the point of maybe carrying it longer than you necessarily have to.

So the first thing is that I used to be a choir nerd. I really liked choir, and it’s there that I learned a breathing exercise. The exercise itself isn’t what’s most important, though, it’s the side effects I got while doing the exercise. See, we all had to lay down on our backs and notice how our breathing naturally transferred from chest breathing to belly breathing. But as we were doing that, I noticed that, one by one, my limbs were starting to fade away. Like, they felt like they were fading away.

First my toes, then my legs, then my upper legs. Then my fingers, arms, forearms, shoulders. Then from the top of my head down to my brain to my eyes to my nose to my mouth. Then my chest, then my back, then my butt, then my stomach (hello breath shift).

Now, we were all instructed to relax these parts in this order, but it was the first time I’d taken note of them individually enough to realize that I could notice them individually and deal with them individually, too. So I tucked that piece of information away for a Very Long While.

A long, long, long, long time later, I’m driving. And I hurt. But it’s the kind of hurt that’s lingering over from pain you’ve recently faced. I’m too tired and frustrated to know where it’s coming from, but the drive gives me some sort of epiphany. If I keep driving while I’m seriously hurting and my brain is telling me I’m going to die, I’m going to make dumb decisions on the road. I probably already had by that point, which is why I impulsively did something that I named--in the moment--the “slice of time.”

Here’s the concept: I had to forget whatever it was that had caused me pain in the first place. Thinking back, I think one of my tiny cousins who didn’t know any better rammed me at full strength, and I was still trying to get my wind back while remembering how much that hurt. So I had to stop thinking about the past event that hurt me and take a current stock of my body. Pain that I was feeling right in that moment. Nothing from before, nothing that could come after. Just right then and there.

I started with my feet. Because I was ticked and wanted to at least try to be rational about it and the choir exercise from--at that point--years ago just flashed to mind. So I started with my feet. Mentally took stock, and there wasn’t anything hurting there. Ok. Up to my shins. If I took a moment to think about it, they were fine. Didn’t even hurt. Same with my thighs.

My fingers were hurting from gripping the steering wheel so hard, so I tried to relax them. My forearms eased up, too, and then I had to focus on my biceps, which were also tense with frustration. Relaxing those felt like a challenge in the moment, but once I had, I could say that that area didn’t actually physically hurt. Just felt a bit strained.

Then I started from the top of my head and worked my way down. My face had been tense, so I relaxed the muscles there with a harsh breath. My eyes stopped hurting, and my mouth stopped feeling sore.

Then my chest, which actually didn’t hurt. Surprising, given the origin of the injury, but I wasn’t thinking about that. Just did a mental scan and moved to my back. It hurt a little bit, but I readjusted my seating and was fine. Same with the lower back.

Now, the stomach area was where I’d been hit, but I wasn’t thinking about the event. I was thinking about how my stomach was feeling in the moment. Honestly? It was a minor throb that wasn’t nearly as bad as I’d been making it out to be. It was gone a few minutes after I’d taken the time to run through my mental check and readjustments.

You might have gone through all of this and scoffed and gone “Amy, you’re such a big baby. I already know all this. Everyone already does something like this.” Cool. Good on you. But I still have to be reminded sometimes because I have a tendency to compound an issue by thinking on it too much. My mind is my own personal worst enemy when it comes to feeling physically better, and the slice of time has worked pretty well for me ever since when I really need to take a moment and reset myself.

Making myself relax physically did help the mental aspect of my health for that scenario, but more often than not, slice of time just helps me identify what parts of my physical body are hurting and makes me accountable for taking care of them. It doesn’t always help with the mental bit, but it can affect it in a positive sometimes.

Anyways. Typing all this up because if I’da done this a few days ago, I would have felt better sooner. And maybe you’re hurting now and need something new to try. I can’t guarantee that it’ll solve all your problems, but it’s free, doesn’t take more than lying down and focusing on your body, and helps you isolate what you need specifically. I hope it helps.

And if this little trick I made up doesn’t, then I hope you find something that does soon.

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lizzieraindrops · 3 years

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Chapters: 6/6 Fandom: Destiny (Video Games) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Eris Morn/Ikora Rey Characters: Eris Morn, Ikora Rey Additional Tags: 5+1 Things, Hello destiny sapphics; allow me to introduce myself, Femslash, if nobody is going to write the content i want to see then i will create it myself, listen. it’s about perceiving the weak and wounded places in someone you love, and lavishing love and care upon them even when they won’t admit they need it, it’s about the Mutual Support, it’s about being kind to them even when you don’t know how to be kind to yourself, Light Angst, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, oh and ikora has the most Distinguished Bisexual energy i’ve ever seen so jot that down, it doesn’t come up but you needed to know, this is all just a bunch of softness and tenderness don't @ me okay, Grief/Mourning

Summary:

Five storms Eris and Ikora weathered and one they didn’t need to.

The Shadowkeep weblore lives in my head rent free. Set post-Taken King and mostly during Shadowkeep.

“As I told Asher, there is a storm coming…” “Oryx is dead. We’ve weathered the storm.” Ikora is upset. She has yet to understand the bigger picture. “Yet his sisters would see his will done. There will always be another storm.” “Then let’s weather it together.” -Shadowkeep Narrative Preview #1

Chapter: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | +1 |

Set early Shadowkeep. Happy Ikora returns day!

As the afternoon sunlight sweeps across her study in slow motion, Ikora thinks on time, and distance. Their immensity and insignificance are so deeply, paradoxically interwoven. Leaning over the many strike reports on her heavy wooden desk, she thinks on decades passing, centuries, and the way the earth still turns under the sun every day the way it always has. She knows that even without encouragement, the sun has always been running down to eventually collapse into darkness. Yet the process is so slow that she has not witnessed the slightest telltale change to indicate it in all her long life, and unless they are all very unlucky, she likely never will.

She considers the great stretch of space from her desk chair in the Tower to the near reaches of the Oort Cloud at the edge of the solar system, the pitted stones of which her own eyes have beheld in her youth. That great span is not so different from the kind of invisible gulf that oft forms between people. Ikora will sense that spaceless distance yawning wide even between herself and someone mere paces away. With some time and thought, she can often close it again. Compassion and carefully chosen words, thoughtful gestures; they hold more power than most people credit. But other times, no matter what form of communication she employs to attempt to bridge that void, people cannot or will not hear her. It is endlessly galling. It can happen with anyone from intractable faction leaders during a Consensus meeting to dear friends she does not want to lose to her own Traveler-forsaken ghost.

Despite any physical separation, she knows that felt distance would collapse if only she could understand and make herself understood to those she cares about. If only she could find the right way to reach them. Then she remembers all over again: the too-frequent sensation of reaching and reaching and reaching and not even being met halfway.

Ikora thinks about the universe’s tendency toward entropy, and the way time and space have torn people away from her again and again, be it by kilometers or eternities. She cannot forget the way she lost her mentor, her closest thing to kin, to his obsession with the mysteries of temporality long before he physically left the City. She remembers the way someone she could have loved was already leaving before Ikora could ask her to stay, vanishing to parts unknown. She considers her own time on Io during the Red War: Lightless and lost, desperately seeking a connection to anything that would give her hope or answers. All she found was herself even more alone, feeling farther from everyone than she ever has.

Then, Ikora recalls the way Cayde and Zavala seized her in a doubly crushing hug the moment she returned to Earth and stepped onto the unexpected refuge of the Farm. There she was, weaker than ever and harshly humbled by her own insufficiency in the face of insurmountable odds. Yet they not only reached out to her, but caught her as she fell into their arms broken. Maybe, in their own way, they had been reaching all along, and she had been turning away unknowing. She didn’t know how she’d gone so long without letting herself lean on them.

Now though, with her closest friend ripped out of her life and buried in a few years of grief, she still doesn’t know how she’s going to do it again. There’s only so much of each other’s pain and weariness that she and Zavala can hold.

She thinks of the way it felt when Eris returned, feeling their separation in time and space draw to a close while a buffer of uncertainty remained. Truly, after the years of silence following their painful parting, Ikora had never expected to see the woman again. Yet Eris came back. Now she lingers at the edges of Ikora’s space, in the back of her mind; sometimes closer. Ever drawn back to the Moon, Eris comes and goes; but now, she remains within reach.

Eris has always been hard to keep up with. Impelled by her immense grief and rage and pain, she drives herself so hard in pursuit of vengeance or closure. Ikora has always admired her tenacity in reshaping her suffering into a knife of purpose, one effective and deadly beyond even the means of most Lightbearers. Eris’ knowledge and sacrifices are what enabled them to defeat two gods of the Hive. And still she strives to further eliminate the possibility of her cruel fate ever befalling another. But it pains Ikora to see her still flinging herself into the fight with fury while foregoing her own healing.

It feels different, though, to be around her now. While as fierce and focused as ever, something has gentled some of her edges while sharpening others. It’s evident that Eris’ return to the Moon has spiked her dread with memory. Sometimes she is as wary as she was when she first returned from the Hellmouth, hissing at shadows. But her conversations with Ikora turn soft and halting far more than they ever did before. Perhaps she has found some measure of peace, given a few years with the defeat of Crota and Oryx to turn her avenged grief over and over in her hands. Or — as Ikora distinctly suspects — she, too, regrets the harsh words of their previous parting and thinks of reconciliation.

Maybe it’s just that Ikora is hearing her more clearly now. Or perhaps Ikora herself has just finally learned how to listen. What she hears is something that could be, not an answer, but the beginning of a conversation.

Shadows grow longer and Ikora moves from her desk to one of the soft chairs in her little library of an office. Ophiuchus compiles in a small flurry of Light, and she brushes a hand over his shell as she passes by. He watches her settle into the chair to watch the setting sun through the window. They do that sometimes: just watch each other. It has only been a few years since they started speaking to each other again after many decades. It’s still hard. But now that they have, their silences are friendlier. Ikora isn’t sure that they’ll ever be as close as they were before they pulled away from each other. But she’s still glad for what they have now. This is the kind of thing she promised herself she’d do better at after the Red War, so she’s been trying even harder. If she’s going to rely on anyone, her own ghost should be first among them. All the time they spent so far apart right next to each other has left its mark. But this is one of the few rifts that Ikora has been able to even begin to repair, and she treasures every rebuilt link.

Ikora thinks about the way Osiris tore time and causality itself apart to breach one of those unfathomable distances and bring back someone precious. With a little help, he saved someone thought irretrievably lost beyond a thousand layers of temporospatial distance. And yet, Ikora cannot help but see the way Osiris still struggles to close that gulf even when Saint is right in front of him, impossibly alive. As guardians, they are given so, so many second chances, but they are still far from infinite.

Ever since the day she formally became Vanguard, Ikora has been telling herself she’s not going to let herself repeat his mistakes. She keeps a firm grip on her emotions, leashes her ego, puts the City and its people’s safety first. She has failed many times, but succeeded more often; the Last City stands yet. But it’s been so hard to reconcile those imperatives with the harsh lessons of the Red War: sometimes, she is not enough; and sometimes, having others in her corner with her makes them enough, together.

Perhaps she should have paid more attention to those smaller lessons before then. Losing her Light, however temporarily, showed her just how fragile the greater ones are without that groundwork. No matter how mighty, a tree that does not anchor its fine roots into the ground will bow before a stiff wind.

When the dust had settled and her Light returned, she swore to herself that she’d learn to let herself need other people. Intellectually, she knows it makes her stronger, even when she feels weaker. But losing Cayde so soon after that decision demolished what progress she had made. Time and again she ends up trapped in her own attempts at self-sufficiency, alone whether or not anyone else is there.

Ikora already knows what she wants, what she needs. She knows she needs people. And she knows she wants someone.

She just doesn’t know how to go about it yet.

#ikora rey #eris morn #destiny 2 #eris/ikora #ikora/eris #erikora #ikoris #destiny the game #destiny fanfiction #lizzie's adventures in writing #HAPPY IKORA DAY #look. ikora needs a hug #fun fact i wrote this before the splicer trailer drop so the sun thing was UNINTENTIONAL #anyway as always [shoves this in your face] CARE ABOUT THESE LADIES #long post #destinewt

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relishredshoes · 3 years

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Interview given to The Severus Snape and Hermione Granger Shipping Fan Group. (sharing here Admin approved)

https://www.facebook.com/groups/199718373383293/

Hello Oracle Obscured and welcome to Behind the Quill, thank-you for letting us get to know you a little better.

Many readers will know you already and if they don’t I encourage them to look your works up including Teaching Miss Granger and How I learned to love teachers’ meetings

Okay, let’s jump right in.

What's the story behind your pen name?

Hmmm ... that’s kind of a weird answer for me. I wanted to choose a name that didn’t immediately indicate whether I was male or female. I’d noticed a certain freedom afforded to authors of indistinguishable gender. With no societal construct about the “nature” of the creator, the story stood on its own, without prejudice or conditioned expectations.

I brainstormed about six or seven names and then picked the one that appealed to me most. I’ve always felt drawn to the idea of oracles (those who see beyond). And I definitely felt obscured in that department. (Hell, at the time, my whole life felt obscured.)

Which Harry Potter character do you identify with the most?

I don’t know if I do. I guess if I had to pick, I’d say Hermione, as I have a tendency to be an obsessive perfectionist when it comes to work/studying. I like to be organized and plan things out. And I can be quite demanding and harsh with myself when I feel like I’m not measuring up to my own insane ideals.

But I took that openpsychometrics.org statistical quiz a while back, where you answer like a bazillion comparison questions (I did the longer version), and my highest HP match was Remus Lupin (83%). Yeah, I can see that.

Luna is my favorite character, but I don’t know if I identify with her more than anyone else.

Do you have a favourite genre to read? (not in fic, just in general)

It used to be horror/suspense, but ... I don’t know ... I’m just not as into it anymore. Maybe it’s because the real world is horrifying enough without adding fictional monsters to the mix.

Now I mostly read classics.

Do you have a favourite "classic" novel?

To Kill a Mockingbird.

At what age did you start writing?

Just writing stories in general? Maybe second grade. It wasn’t a passion or anything, just something I was pretty good at. I only really did it at school, though, not so much at home. I read A LOT growing up, so I naturally imagined that I might be an author one day. I tried to write a book when I was about 13 or 14, but less than one chapter in, I decided it was too hard. (I was NOT a Hermione growing up. Planning and perseverance were not my style.)

I took a massive break from thinking after high school (the smorgasbord of medications I was on didn’t like me using my brain too much, and my plans for college went out the window when my depression become unmanageable). I didn’t really start writing again until I was about twenty-seven. That was when I found fanfiction. I consider that when I really started writing.

How did you get into writing fanfiction?

I found fanfiction while looking for erotica. Needless to say I discovered the motherlode, and I was hooked. Over the years, I’d written bits and pieces of my own sexy scenarios (which is what you do when you grow up without the internet and you have to depend on your imagination for all your kink requirements), but I’d never really thought about taking someone else’s “story world” and using it as my setting. For a little over a year I read/devoured all the HP fanfiction I could, and then I realized I could take all the fantasies in my head and play them out with my favorite characters.

The first story I wrote was a funny/smutty Ginny/Draco thing, and it was HORRIBLE. The story and the sex were fine, but the writing was a nightmare. I submitted it to The Restricted Section, which was the only site I knew at the time, and they vetted their stories, so I had to get approved. They wrote me back saying it needed work and I should get a beta. So I went on the forum and found one (which was rather brave of me now that I think back). The person who helped me must’ve had the patience of a saint, because he/she(?) never said a damn thing about all the mistakes and shitty-ness. Suggestions and corrections were made, and I changed some of the pronouns to names so it wouldn’t sound so repetitive. The next time I submitted it, they accepted, and I got a decent response for a first-time writer (like three or four nice reviews). No one seemed to hate it, and the reviewers said the sex was hot, so I tried again, hoping to do better.

That’s when I wrote the first chapter of Teaching Miss Granger. It started out as just a oneshot. And it got a much better response. I wanted to write more, but I became extremely depressed and lethargic, and I didn’t really do anything for the next six or seven years. (I mean nothing. Unless you consider watching every episode of Law & Order CI and SVU ten times over to be an accomplishment.)

I came back to it years later, intending to add a few chapters to TMG where they have sex, but ... it just sort of evolved into the monster that it is. I worked on it pretty much every day for about a year. I’d never stuck with ANYTHING that long in my entire life.

What's the best theme you've ever come across in a fic? Is it a theme represented in your own works?

I would say love or “the power of love” is probably my favorite theme. But that includes synonyms for love as well. (Like wholeness, which is the theme of Quartet.)

What fandoms are you involved in other than Harry Potter?

None. I like other fandoms, but I don’t write for them, and I don’t usually read their fanfiction.

If you could make one change to canon, what would it be? Do you have a favourite piece of fanon?

I’ve never really thought about changing cannon. I mean, I change it to suit my fictional purposes (like Snape lives etc.), but I wouldn’t want to change canon for real. The deaths in HP serve a purpose, and while I find many of those deaths heartbreaking, that’s kind of the point. Hatred is bleak and destructive, and good people don’t survive wars simply because they’re good; bad things happen to good people all the time. As for changing something about the individual characters, I can’t get behind that either. The reasons people do things are multifaceted and complex and they’re colored by a lifetime of experiences I will never know or understand, so I don’t feel I can really judge. I can’t say I understand all the choices I’ve made in my own life, and there’ve been plenty of times where I had no choice at all. I can’t hold others to more rigorous standards than I myself can meet. We all have our shortcomings. (And that’s cool. Without them, there would be no growth or diversity.)

Do I have a favorite piece of fanon? Hmmm ... probably Head Boy and Head girl rooming together or having private rooms.

Oh! And uniforms.

Do you listen to music when you write or do you prefer quiet?

I used to listen to really quiet classical music while wearing headphones. Every little sound in the house distracts me, and I have to block it out. But lately I’ve just been running this old box fan that drowns out the noise.

What are your favourite fanfictions of all time?

Crap, I don’t know if I can choose. (Plus I feel like I’ve forgotten a lot of what I’ve read.)

My friend Desert Sea is my fav Hermione/Severus writer. Out of her stories, the ones I like best are In Their Hands and At the Headmaster’s Discretion.

After a brief search of my accounts, I’ll go with:

Do Not Go Gentle by senlinyu

Another Dream by dragoon811

The Last Twenty-Four Hours of Severus Snape by CryingCinderella

Pretty much everything by Aurette

Pet Project by Caeria

Post Tenebras, Lux by Loten

All the SS/HG stuff from snapeslittleblackbuttons

There’s a Teddy Radiator story that I like a lot, but I can’t remember the name of it. (Or what it’s about.) (Yes, very helpful, I know.)

And in a category all it’s own is Farmer Granger and the Most Glorious Cock by MyWitch. (Seriously, I read this like once a month and it makes me laugh every time.)

I read a lot of Drarry too. Drarry stories I love:

Everything by bixgrl1, but especially Balance Imperfect and In Evidence of Magical Theory

Everything by lq_traintracks (even the non-Drarry stuff). The writing is amazing.

I love all the advent stories by Saras_girl.

I like all the Drarry stories I’ve read by Faithwood.

I really like RZZMG’s writing. (No particular story or pairing.)

And I just rediscovered a story I found in 2007 (the first m/m fic I ever read). It’s a Snarry, which I know isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but it was excellent. Snape: the Home Fries Nazi by pir8fancier

Are you a plotter or a pantser? How does that affect your writing process?

I enjoy a bit of both. My oneshots are all pantsed. TMG was totally pantsed. But Getting Personal and Quartet were both plotted and planned. For GP I did sort of a chapter by chapter synopsis before starting my rough draft, and for Q I went into even more detail—EVERYTHING was planned out ahead of time. The only thing that changed during the first draft was I ended up combining some of the chapters.

How does plotting affect my writing process compared to pantsing? It streamlines it. In a oneshot there’s not much to streamline; the basic story (or general idea) is all you really need. There’s not enough story to get muddled. But when I’m writing something longer, with multiple chapters, I find it’s better to know where the story is going. How deeply I go into that planning can vary. Sometimes there’s just a basic outline of the major plot points and then I fly by the seat of my pants from there. Sometimes I write out a very rough synopsis (sort of like a short and loose first draft) and then start writing as if it’s my second draft. Things inevitably get changed once I really start writing, so the planning isn’t set in stone by any means, but when I plan, the story goes in the general direction I intend without veering too far off course and there aren’t any plot holes. After I wrote TMG (with no planning) I saw that there was A LOT I could have cut or combined without affecting anything important. I learned a little more with each story I wrote, and when I got to Q, there was a lot of complicated ideas that I wanted to incorporate, and there were so many characters (and character arcs) going on that I had to plan extensively to make sure everything fit together. If I hadn’t worked it out ahead of time, it would’ve been like throwing a heap of puzzle pieces on the table but not being given a reference picture to know what it was I was working toward.

What is your writing genre of choice?

I have no idea. Plotty sex? Erotic dramady? Some of it is just straight up PWP, but I usually like to have something meaningful in there too.

Which of your stories are you most proud of? Why?

Usually the answer is whatever I’ve most recently written, as it’s the most likely to represent my current “best.” In terms of writing, I’ll go with A Brush with Magic, but Quartet is probably my best storytelling. A lot went into that (symbolism, planning, obsessive re-writes) and it holds a good deal of personal meaning to me. So, I guess I’ll go with Q due to the time and effort involved.

Did it unfold as you imagined it or did you find the unexpected cropped up as you wrote? What did you learn from writing it?

The unexpected always crops up (even with all my planning), and it’s the unexpected that makes the magic.

While I had many insights into my own nature while writing Quartet, in the end I think it taught me to trust/listen to myself more.

Later, however, it brought me a very different message. While writing it, I felt a lot of tension and anxiety; I wanted to “do it right” and present my story in the best light. But after some time away, I realized I’d been so worried because I felt as if that story represented me, as if it defined me. And the pressure of being judged worthy or unworthy had been eating me alive.

But I don’t feel that way anymore. Now it’s like I wrote all my stories in another lifetime. While they all might be a snapshot of a fraction of my mind, nothing I create ever says a damn thing about who or what I truly am. Since letting go of that, I’ve found a sense of freedom around writing. I still like to express things as clearly and beautifully as I can, but it’s more a celebration of words than a search for acceptance.

How personal is the story to you, and do you think that made it harder or easier to write?

Quartet was extremely personal to me when I wrote it, and in a lot of ways I think that made it easier to write. When I have to go strictly by imagination, I feel as if I’m missing some depth of understanding (like I’m getting the surface-level stuff, but missing the nuance). When I write from experience, it has an entirely different quality. Richer. More intimate. It’s work to write what I don’t know, but it’s easy to write the truth.

Posting, however, is an entirely different story. Other people don’t always want the truth, and if you feel like your story is an extension of you, it can hurt to have any part of it rejected.

What books or authors have influenced you? How do you think that shows in your writing?

I think everything I’ve ever read or seen has influenced me. In terms of writing, I guess I’d say I’m inspired by beauty in all its forms. When I first started reading fanfiction, I just searched for the kinks I liked; it was all about the sex (with bonus points for having a decent plot). Then one day I read an extremely well-written PWP (I don’t remember what), and the way the author described the sex was so unlike anything I had ever read, it totally blew my mind. It was art. Exquisite art. And before that, I didn’t know sex could be art. That author didn’t just recount the characters’ actions, they painted a word masterpiece—they turned porn into poetry. THAT was what I wanted in my life. And I didn’t know it until that moment.

Books/authors that stick with me:

The Harry Potter series (obviously).

Shel Silverstein (Love the poetry, but The Giving Tree is one of my favorite books of all time.)

Dr. Seuss (Always.)

Judy Blume (I still have my copy of Are You There God it’s Me Margaret from when I was, like, 10. Tiger Eyes is my favorite of hers.)

R.L. Stine (I got hooked prior to the creation of the Goosebumps series, but I had EVERY Fear Street Book he wrote when I was in middle school.)

Weekend by Christopher Pike (This was the first YA thriller I ever read. *Sigh* memories. I still have my original copy, and I still read it every once in a while. The characters and plot are great.)

Stephen King (Carrie is my fav.)

Anne Rice (I’ve read all the vampire and witch books, but The Witching Hour is the only one I’ve read multiple times. Blackwood Farm is my next favorite.)

To Kill a Mockingbird

Charles Dickens (David Copperfield is my fav.)

Jane Austen (I can’t pick between Pride & Prejudice and Sense & Sensibility.)

Thomas Harris (Brilliant writing, and Hannibal might be one of the most intriguing anti-heros ever.)

Stieg Larsson (Another brilliant writer with a brilliant character.)

The Giver by Lois Lowry (I haven’t read the rest of the trilogy. And I haven’t seen the movie. I refuse to besmirch my childhood love with Hollywood’s interpretation.)

Bridge to Terabithia (This book devastated me as a child.)

Gillian Flynn (Sharp Objects is my fav.)

Liane Moriarty (I like all of her books, especially Big Little Lies. The way she plays with the timeline is masterful.)

Frank Herbert’s Dune. (I grew up on this. It’s my dad’s all-time favorite book. And, yes, we’re looking forward to the new movie.)

Margaret Atwood (The Handmaid’s Tale is horrifyingly wonderful. And Atwood herself is fascinating. Watch her Masterclass if you get the chance.)

Steinbeck’s East of Eden (This might be my second favorite book.)

The Lucifer Effect by Phillip Zimbardo (This isn’t fiction, but it was the first book that really affected the way I see the world.)

Eisler’s The Chalice and the Blade (Also not fiction. If you’re interested in the divine feminine and a more egalitarian society, this is the book for you.)

Loving What Is by Byron Katie (The only self-help book that’s ever actually helped me.)

Daphne Du Maurier (I love Rebecca, but she also has a story called “The Blue Lenses” that isn’t really intended to be scary, but it freaked me the fuck out.)

The Secret History by Donna Tartt (Gorgeous writing, and the plot left me seriously disturbed.)

One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest by Ken Kesey (Gah! I love this. The writing and the story and the characters and EVERYTHING!)

Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury (I Bradbury’s writing style, but the plot of F451 is pure horror for any book hoarder lover.)

The Lord of the Flies by William Golding (This might be my third favorite book ever. No, wait, I might like it better than East of Eden. I can’t choose!)

The Diary of Anne Frank (How in the hell could anyone read this and not be affected by it?)

Do people in your everyday life know you write fanfiction?

No. This is my own private world, and I like it that way.

How true for you is the notion of "writing for yourself"?

Very. I write what I want to read. There are certain adjustments I make when I write for other people as opposed to what I do when writing strictly for myself, but nothing major. I refuse to write things I have no interest in, and I don’t write to make people happy. I write to please myself. (But it’s nice when what pleases me pleases others. It’s wonderful to share that connection.)

How important is it for you to interact with your audience? How do you engage with them? Just at the point of publishing? Through social media?

I like hearing from my readers. I don’t have a lot of time to interact, but I like talking to my audience and listening to their insights. I try to reply to all the comments I get on AO3 (it’s just too hard on FFN). And when I have free time (which isn’t often) I check my FB groups to see what’s going on. To me, the interaction kind of completes the creative cycle; it helps me set the story free and allow it to be. It really belongs to the reader once I’ve published, and it’s nice to see the ripples creativity creates.

What is the best advice you've received about writing?

Unless it’s absolutely necessary, stop using the word “was.” Completely changed my writing.

What do you do when you hit writer's block?

It doesn’t really happen that much, as I usually know where I’m going with my story, but there can be glitches between scenes or times when I can’t find the words for something (like ending a chapter). When that happens, I usually just leave it and come back later—I can’t force it if it won’t come.

If I really need to get it done for some reason, I read what I have over and over, adding a little bit more each time, trying out words that “sound right” and building what I need bit by bit. What I come up with isn’t always right or what I want, but at least I have something to work with. Sometimes seeing what’s wrong makes what you want more obvious.

Has anything in real life trickled down into your writing?

Yeah, just about everything Sex, depression, anxiety, personal growth, likes/dislikes, insights, interests, philosophy, all my little neuroses. Every once in a while I’ll even include some dialogue from real life.

Do you have any stories in the works? Can you give us a teaser?

I’m juggling about five long stories right now (plus a couple oneshots). And I haven’t worked on any of them in ages. I don’t know what’s going on with me; I’m just not in the mood. I don’t want to say what they are, as I might never finish them. (Two are Drarry and three are Sevmione. One is a compilation of oneshots. Four of them are completely planned out and just need to be written. The unplanned Drarry was always just meant to be for myself and I doubt I’ll ever release it.)

Any words of encouragement to other writers?

Yes. Enjoy the whole writing/creative process as much as possible. Try not to beat yourself up, and don’t try to force yourself to be better. You will naturally get better the more you write. Change is inevitable; allow it to happen. Read books about writing, and read good writers. Notice what brings you the most pleasure when you read and tap into that same pleasure when you write. Play with words and ideas just for fun. Watch and see what appears. There is no perfect.

If you’re writing about sex (because I get asked about that a lot), write what turns YOU on. Don’t try to be sexy. Don’t try to write what you think other people want to hear. Don’t worry about what other people think (at least in the first draft). If they don’t like it they can go read something else. But if YOU like it, it will shine through in your writing, and that will have a bigger impact on your reader than any activity you describe. Also, the physicality is only a fraction of the sexual experience. Don’t turn your sex scenes into a play-by-play. You’re not really writing about what the characters are doing so much as how what they’re doing affects them. It’s a personal experience, and the more personal you make it (the more honest and vulnerable you are as a writer) the more satisfying the story will be for your reader. Wise words! Thank-you so much for speaking with us today Oracle Obscured.

#snamione #writing #fanfiction #fanfic

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