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#When it's hard to describe his emotions. He will show her how he feels instead.
luna-azzurra · 15 days
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Dunno if you already did this, but can you do one about showing characters processing something or in deep thought. I always fall into the trap of "their eyebrows furrowed".
Oh, I totally get that! It’s so easy to fall into the whole "their eyebrows furrowed" thing, but there are way more ways to show a character deep in thought.
First, try switching up their body language. Instead of focusing on their face, have them fidget, maybe they’re tapping their fingers, messing with the hem of their shirt, or pacing a little. These small movements show they’re distracted or thinking hard about something without always going for the obvious expression.
Example "She twisted a strand of hair around her finger, eyes locked on the floor as if the answer might appear there."
Next, think about their eyes. Are they staring off into space, completely zoned out? Maybe their eyes flicker back and forth, like they’re mentally working through something. You can use their gaze to show that their thoughts are elsewhere, without even needing to mention their face.
Example "His eyes drifted past the window, staring at nothing, the world outside a blur as his mind raced." Or "She narrowed her eyes, her gaze shifting from one corner of the room to another, piecing together the clues in her head."
Another good trick is to dive into internal sensations. You can describe how their thoughts are racing, their chest feels tight, or their stomach twists with uncertainty. Maybe their mind is replaying a conversation or trying to make sense of something confusing. Little details like that can really pull the reader into their head.
Example "His thoughts were a tangled mess, one question bleeding into the next until he couldn’t keep track anymore." Or "She kept replaying his words in her mind, over and over, trying to figure out what he really meant."
Also, silence can be super effective. Maybe they stop talking mid-sentence or give short, distracted responses to people around them. It’s like their brain is too busy to focus on the conversation, and that can show how deep in thought they are.
Example "When Jake asked her a question, she didn’t even hear it. Her mind was too far gone, trapped in a spiral of what-ifs." Or "He nodded absentmindedly, not really listening, his focus somewhere far from the conversation."
And don’t forget about small physical reactions! Maybe they’re feeling a weird heaviness in their chest, or a knot in their stomach forms as they overthink. Physical sensations tied to emotions can really ground the moment and make it feel more real.
Example "Her chest tightened as the weight of the decision settled over her, heavy and unavoidable." Or "A dull ache formed behind his eyes, the pressure of too many unanswered questions closing in."
So yeah, there’s lots of cool ways to show deep thought without just saying "eyebrows furrowed", Mix it up and it’ll feel way more natural. :)
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imbecominggayer · 1 month
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How To Write Cuddling
This my third part to my series where I get specific requests from people about what advice they want. Here we have @12-cluh to explain what about cuddling is getting them confused:
"Idk how to really describe what I'm going after. I'd say I'm more confused on how to describe the way the bodies are laying together? That sounds weird but you get it-"
Perfect, so our key problem is how to establish a character's positioning in the cuddling!
First: How Are These People Cuddling?
Here is some great writing advice for all manners of situations: try to physically establish where the characters are
Heck, you could draw a nice stickman cuddling session in order to get everything down.
This is mostly to prevent a type of "I gently wrapped my arms around her in an unending hug as I let my free hand grasp onto her colder fingers." situation. If you didn't notice, human character grew a third hand and certainly didn't tell me.
And obviously, reread your material out loud so your pesky brain wont perform it's own autocorrect
Next, there are tons of different cuddling positions that evoke different types of atmospheres from the sultry to the affectionate to the hilarious.
Based on what I googled, there are many different names and Shingles is the weirdest thing to name a cuddling style.
Since this cuddling is taking place between "a couple who finally get a day off. (featuring her tracing his scars! :3" I'm guess that @12-cluh is probably going for affectionate.
I probably would recommend "Sweetheart's Cradle" or "The Honeymoon Hug" if you are going for an ultra-affectionate cuddle.
If you are looking for something more casual yet still affectionate then "The Spoon" and, uhh, "Shingles" . The "Sweetheart's Cradle" could still work here but that's up to your interpretation of what Romance On The Go is talking about.
2. Actual Description
Quote: "...how to describe the way the bodies are laying together?
Obviously, it's hard for me to give specific details on how to describe the scene since it's feelings which change the world and influence how it arrives to the audience.
If this is a somber affair, based on the scar tracing, then that's obviously going to influence the atmosphere. If it's a highly affectionate get-together then that's the diction.
However, in general, you don't need proper "he laid down on her" type of weirdly phrased descriptions.
You just need to get the emotion across.
For example, "He lowers them onto the bed once again, the back of his hand brushing against her cheek. She latches onto him and refuses to let go for the rest of the night. She refuses to let go for forever, actually. She prayes that she wasn't alone. That this isn't just another dream or mistake. When the sunlight glimmers through the curtain, she will thank the gods for this blessed union."
I hoped I communicated the deep love and desperation between these characters :3 God, I am such a bad writer.
Anyway, as you can see there wasn't a lot of detail focused on where my female character was latching onto. All the detail you need is for the movements that display emotion such as the caressing
Here is a more comedic example for more proof: "What nobody told him about cuddling is how f*cking uncomfortable it was. What should've been a delicate and affectionate affair was instead a mess of limbs and sweat as his boyfriend's ability to light up his life was far more literal then he wanted. But even if his hand may never function again as this brick shithouse of a man has lovingly passed out on it, the feeling of just being together in this shitty cot makes his soul tremble in the sweetest, strangest way. "
I regret writing examples of this. I am going to get destroyed in the comments for my shitty writing ability :`(
Anyway, there is little set-up for what limbs are where and what everyone is specifically doing.
There are other things you can do to show the audience where your characters are. "Our breath mixed together". Or "I could hear his heartbeat".
And now I need to ask you "doth that satisfy thou my liege?" I tried to do this advice right since it's you and for some reason I care about you more then I should, darling.
So please give me my validation and feel free to ask me for more writing advice. I am forever at your beck and call.
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an ocean in a world full of puddles ◦ Chapter 1
-After being brushed off by Chan once again, you are stuck waiting in the lounge room for him to arrive. What are you going to do when it isn't Chan that arrives, but instead Felix? And it feels like you've known him for years."
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words ◦ 5k
genre ◦ series, angst, fluff, the beginning of a wild ride
warnings ◦ chan is painted in sort of a negative light because he is always busy, felix is sort of shy around you at first, but lowkey flirty near the end as he starts to get more comfertable, theres a lot of fucks in this, i keep calling yall im dumb im sorry, fem!reader, felix calls her a lady once,
a/n ◦ The strikeouts are intentional to show how chaotic the reader's mind is and how she feels like her emotions are so invalid she has to just erase them away. I'm sorry if this isn't what you expected. I found myself struggling to describe certain aspects of this and was quite disappointed by the outcome (but please do not let this deter you. If anything, read it and let me know what you think/what I can change. Plus, I know the other parts are going to be way better than this).
also i listened to heather while writing this up until the phone number bit... then i listened to slow down by chase atlantic...do with that information as you will
A VERY VERY SPECAIL THANK YOU TO THESE BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE that helped me through the different struggles and stages in this fic I thank most of my unnecessary errors being fixed because of them @yongbun, @jeonginsleftcheek, @luvtak
masterlist ◦ a loved lived in between the stars and the sea
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The human condition: a soul filled with passion, but not a mouth to spill it into.
It was ironic really. 
Your soul was filled with passion, but you had a mouth to spill it into.
That mouth just didn't want your passion- 
Your fervor-
Your ardor-
Romance practically coursed through your veins, your blood cells shaped like the hearts you saw the world through. 
Chan was filled with passion.
Chan was filled with ardor.
Chan was filled with romance.
But Chan didn't want poetry-
Chan spilled too much soul into songs. 
Songs that made him too busy for you.
The two of you saw the same goal, but spoke different languages- 
Your love was often- 
Lost in translation. 
You shout, frustration poking in the pit of your stomach painting the car red you dig the pencil into the words scratching them out so hard you cut holes in the page that sounded so stupid
all of this was so stupid
your feelings-
stupid
your issues-
stupid
the thought that Chan was anything other than perfect-
stupid
Why couldn't you just be content with everything you have? So many girls would pay to be in your place, tripping over each other just to be in his presence, and yet, what, you're unhappy because you spoke different languages? 
What the hell does that even mean?
You were trapped inside an inescapable box, the sharp edges of your unrealistic expectations like shackles that cut into your skin, bleeding with a passion only ever found in fiction. 
Why were you always stuck?
stuck in the stars, stuck in the sea-
stuck in this stupid line of stupid traffic, waiting for a stupid meal that Chan probably will be too busy to eat with you, writing some stupid piece of poetry that was about as poetic as the rotting innards of unidentified roadkill.
stupid
stupid
stupid
“Finally,” you mumble as the car in front of you inches up, allowing you access to the next window. You politely bow, grab the trays from the worker’s hand, and drive off.
Your life quickly turned from the hope of a story to the reality of a routine. The road, the walls, the button your finger grazes as the doors to the elevator slam shut, the number of steps it takes to get to his room, the feel of cold metal underneath your palm as you open the door, the same hunch of his shoulders, the same glow of his laptop, the same empty look in his eyes.
the same
the same
the same
Most of your relationship is spent looking at him like this.
"Hey channie," you say, setting the food down on the empty spot beside his keyboard.
"Hi, love." His voice is nothing more than the ghost of a mumble, blending with the click and shift of his mouse, moving different blurs and blobs of color on the screen. Chan tended to get tunnel vision when he was working, even if that meant you were left stranded in the shadows of his forgotten responsibilities. 
"I um brought you dinner." you clear your throat, pointing lamely at the boxes beside him like he couldn't clearly see they were there. He perks up, finally lifting his eyes to meet yours. 
"Oh baby, thank you." The tension in his shoulders melts. "I'm sorry, you know how busy I am sometimes; right now it feels like I'm drowning in work," he chuckles, absentmindedly shifting in his chair.
you're always busy
You push a smile through the tangled ball of suppressed emotions climbing up your throat.
"I know you're busy, but do you think I could eat dinner with you today...please?" Your stomach twists in painful knots. It was pathetic really, the way you begged for attention like a needy dog more than a doting girlfriend, but you were desperate, scrambling to fan a flickering flame that felt long sputtered out. 
stop
You knew what you were getting into when he asked you out—the stress, the anxiety, the workload, the long hours. Chan was always upfront and honest about the struggles of being an idols girlfriend, never wanting to veil your eyes from the harsh sting of realities rays.
then why does it still feel like your soul is burning?
He flicks his gaze to the screen, guilt gnawing at his core. There was so much to do in the day and just never enough time to do it. "I don't know, I don't really have a lot of time right now..." He mumbles, picking at the seam on his shorts apologetically, "Do you think you could wait about 20 minutes? I'm kind of on a roll here."
When your relationship was first blooming, your spirit would often shatter with those words, but pain only holds power when it isn't welcome, and as long as you are loved by him, you will accept the feeling with open arms. 
"I'm going to go sit in the lounge room then." You try to keep the disappointment out of your tone, but it leaks through the cracks echoing in your chest, radiating in palpable waves. You clench your jaw, picking up your tray of food.
does he not care?
"Okay," The squeak of his chair indifferently swiveling back to its previous place echoes in your ears. Louder than anything you've ever heard. 
he didn't even kiss you
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1 hour 45 minutes and 13 seconds
That's how long you have been waiting in the lounge room for Chan to walk in the door.
that is how long you've been wallowing in a sad pathetic heap staring at your uneating supper
1 hour 45 minutes and 15 seconds now
16 seconds
17 seconds
You spin around when you hear the door creak open, anticipation fluttering in your stomach, only to plummet when you see Felix standing in the entrance, too busy shoveling a fork full of noodles in his mouth to notice your presence.
Felix was a familiar face, mostly associated with sweet smiles and bouncing eyes; you have only ever talked to him on a handful of occasions, possessing the basic relationship of hellos in the hallways and smiles when you enter the same room, but besides the couple times where he offered you some of his freshly baked brownies or told you which room Chan was in, you haven't actually had a conversation with the boy.
You groan, dramatically deflating in your seat.
Of course, it wasn't chan
Felix yelps, his heart leaping in his chest, only to wrap around his bones, doing trapeze tricks inside his ribs when he lays eyes on you—why, out of all the days he could have seen you, it was on the one day he was least ready, and the way your whole body slumps like a deflated balloon, it becomes crystal clear you weren't exactly jumping up and down to see him either.
Does Cupid have a vendetta against him or something?
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know anybody was in here," he stutters awkwardly, running his fingers through his hair like he was trying to fix it without a mirror. Disappointment quickly brews into guilt watching the way his eyes shift, hurt drooping his shoulders down. 
"No, I'm sorry, it's not like that; I just thought—" You falter. What the hell did you think? Sorry, but I thought you were my boyfriend who left me here all by myself, and like usual, my stupid, hopeful heart really believed this time was going to be different. "You were someone different." You sink into the couch, a dull ache spiderwebbing through the chasms in your chest.
"Let me guess." His eyes crinkle with sympathy. "Chan."
You glance down at your ribs—some silly part of you really believed your shirt had blossomed with the crimson stain of your sorrows.
"How could you guess?" you mutter sarcastically, picking at the skin of your nails. Why did it seem like everybody else got the memo that if you were to search the thesaurus, your name would be the first word under forgotten?
"Well, really, it was a toss-up between you being with him for the past 5 years and the fact that he has been glued to his computer for the past 5 hours," he grins. "Pick your poison."
Your gaze drifts back to the couch that sits idly in front of you, lonely in the middle of the room, out of place, without the implant of another person's body.
"W-Well," he starts, shifting his bowl in his hands. "Do you... I don't know, want some company...maybe."
He's so awkward, so unsure, like a baby deer wobbling on unfamiliar legs, struggling to stay upright. You tilt your head, your lips pulling up into an adoring grin; you never really noticed it before, but he was sort of shy. You had a terrible tendency to take your time observing people unintentionally, causing discomfort to the victims of your restless brain—assessing in silence.
His ears burn when your eyes gloss over with an opaque glaze. His heart drops only for those silly little butterflies that always appear when you are around to swarm their wings around the lump growing in his throat.
Well, that was a bust.
Why couldn't he just be normal around you?
"O-Or not, that's fine too. I-I get it; you're probably l-like waiting for Chan or whatever. I-I can go get him if you would like." He jerks his thumb behind him, forgetting he was holding something for a second, stumbling to catch it right before it falls. You snicker, biting your lips to contain your laughter. His eyes flutter shut, scrunching his nose in embarrassment.
He was cute
Why haven't you talked to him before?
"No, please sit down," you lazily gesture to the couch in front of you. "It's not like Chan's going to be coming down anytime soon."
He sighs, his whole body melting with relief, practically forming into the couch when he shuffles over, adjusting himself to comfortably sit with his legs wide and his head tilted down. He picks up his fork just before whispering, "I'm sorry that he kept you waiting," and stuffing his face. You smile, the sight all sorts of endearing. The amount of food stuffed into his cheeks puffs them out, forcing his mouth into a pout that's smeared with red sauce. For a moment, you almost forget that you're supposed to be groveling, but why would life want to let you live when instead it could remind you constantly how much it sucks?
"I'm used to it." You learn to live with the absence of air when your hope always causes you to suffocate.
"You shouldn't have to be," he murmurs, his hand politely veiling his mouth while he chews. He's staring at his food like his noodles were an impossible labyrinth he's forced to escape, completely oblivious to the cataclysmic sentence he just uttered. Your jaw drops, stomach fluttering with butterflies, butterflies that you could’ve sworn burned out a long time ago. When most of your time is spent in a constant state of apocalypse, you forget the side effects of a romanticism, felt before your soul was littered with the echos of war.
"Oh?"
"Are you not going to eat?" He questions, forehead creased with concern as he gestures to the food that was currently burning a hole in the table. You stare at him stupidly, mouth ever so slightly agape. Did he not notice that there were swarms of zombified insects burrowing their way into your belly, kaleidoscopes charred wings creating panic in your pounding heart?
(cookie interruptions: I was today years old when I found out that a kaleidoscope was the technical term for a swarm of butterflies)
Why was he making you feel so jittery?
"Oh," you blink, giving an imperceptible shake of the head—a weak attempt to gather your disoriented thoughts.
Honestly, you had forgotten it was there.
"I was waiting to eat with Chan..." You mutter through the tufts of wool still stuffed in your head, wrapping your fingers around the tray, but when you pull open its flappy lid, your lips pull into a sneer glaring at the congealed sauce and cold noodles. You weren't surprised that your food had spoiled over the 2 hours you had been waiting, but it didn't make the frustration that bubbled in your gut any less apparent either. "But clearly, that hope was shortlived," you scoff, chucking the useless tray back on the table. 
Felix clears his throat, adjusting himself in his seat. He often found himself tiptoeing on the edge of insanity, always rewriting the words he wanted to say, terrified you had written a line in the sand the waves had washed away.
You were a star with a heart tied to the sea, where he would have more success breaking the bond of the moon than turning the tides of the ocean that suffocated your soul.
So for now, he will coast the cosmos alone, waiting for the day you will finally look his way.
"You can have some of mine... if you want," he whispers, shyly scooting his cup over to you. "It's salmon-flavored; it's really good."
"Are you sure?" you blink, utterly flummoxed.
"Yeah, of course!" You swore you could trace the stories of the sky in the gaps where his freckles glowed.
"Thank you; I promise I won't eat too much," you joke, pulling out your fork. "I don't mind it, really. I can always make more as long as you're eating I'm okay," he grins, sliding his hand out of the way to allow room for yours, grateful for his generosity; you bite back a smile, digging into the hot noodles; a spicy flavor pulled straight from the sea explodes on your tongue as soon as the food meets your lips.
You swear you just tasted heaven's gates.
"Holy shit, this is delicious," you moan, rolling your eyes back in your head.
"I'm glad you like it," he smirks. "It's my special recipe."
"So you do more than bake, huh?" you waggle your brows lightheartedly, though you were sort of impressed by his broad palette of skills. 
"You know that I bake!?" He was still recovering from the shock that you even knew his name—the way he often dissolves into the wall when you enter the room.
"Of course, I know that you bake; I always have to eat at least half of the plate of brownies Chan brings home." You giggle, picking at the noodles, wanting more but feeling guilty for hogging the whole bowl.
"Oh, I'm full," he stretches, rubbing his stomach like a stuffed cartoon character. 
"Are you lying?" Cynism was a side effect of being a creative romanticist—your artistic brain didn't limit itself to only forming one conclusion, while the stories that ended up on paper were solely portrayed as having happy endings—you knew this philosophy was neither sadistic nor realistic, for even if the fictional characters made up of the fluid of your mind betrayed each other, what would a human, evil in its rawest form, do to you?
well that was melodramatic
"You know you're a very skeptical person," he jests, pulling his lips ever so slightly up.
"I'm a hopeless romantic; there's a difference," you state, stuffing your face when you finish studying him down to the very twitch of his right calf muscle.
"Aren't hopeless romantics supposed to be happy-go-lucky all the time? Seeing the world through rose-colored glasses and stuff?"
"You know we are called hopeless for a reason," you snort, unrealistic standards were more of a curse than a blessing.
Scratch that, having unrealistic standards is just a curse
“Being a hopeless romantic is like being an ocean in a world full of puddles.” Your soul speaks like his fingertips have felt its walls a million times before “devastating.”
He stares at you gobsmacked, blinking like you just hit him over the head with a mallet. Your mind kicks into gear, anxious little butterflies flipping on the switch for damage control.
that must have sounded so self-centered
"I-I didn't mean, like, in a cocky way, I'm better than other people. I just meant it's impossible to pour my passion anywhere because everybody else doesn't have room to take it. If anything, I-Im the bad one in this scenario.” You stutter, sporadically shaking your hands, worried that the misconception is going to create a concrete opinion. He quickly waves you off, seeming anything but bothered. 
“An ocean in a world full of puddles that's pretty deep,” he implores, treating the words like age-old wine to be sipped with both time and deference. “You know you should really consider being a poet 'cause that like moved my soul.” Only Lee Felix can make humor sound so honest. 
Why was he so ...amazed
"I like to think I'm a poet." Your cheeks are painted red as you bashfully tilt your head down. 
but right now not so much
“You can't think you're a poet,” he chuckles. “If you ever wanted to read somebody your stuff, I would be happy to help…Maybe it could fix your uncertainty." Something twinkles in his eyes, something nervous yet desperate, something you couldn't quite pinpoint while your stomach was sprinting in circles—the mere thought of showing somebody else your poetry was the equivalent of slicing your heart in half and presenting it to the world on live television.
basically, something that will never happen never ever
"No, no, no, it's nothing like that. I don't really write poetry per se; I just write my..." You trail off.
What do you write?
"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," he reassures, his warm smile cooling the icy anxiety that crystallized around your core.
Why do you do this to yourself??
Stupid Felix and his stupid power to loosen your lips-
stupid. stupid. stupid.
To be a poet is to be vulnerable; no great art is ever created comfortably. 
Fuck it 
“I write my dreams,” you blurt, peeking out through your clenched eyelids to see if Felix caught the spit of a sentence; clearly, he did the way he lifts his brows thoughtfully. 
“Elaborate”
A man of many annoying questions you see 
“Why,” you groan, sinking into your seat almost comically. 
"Because I want to listen to you," he laughs like whiskey and wine, both husky and rich. You choke, your heart imploding into a million tiny, rose-shaped pieces.
"Nobody wants to listen to me ramble on about hopeless fantasies that will never come true," you sputter, still trying to reshape your rose-shaped shatters into something that resembles an organ. 
"I do."
Oh well, there they go again, forming right back into roses-
He made all of this seem like a complex game of chess, every move of hesitance quickly countered by a block of honesty.
From the moment you could write, you found out that paper was not volatile the way people were, how you could erase a word written but, in time, in life, you cannot erase a sentence said—that philosophy stuck with you, forever rendering you apprehensive to vocalize your feelings.
Maybe it was your soft spot for the stars that made you speak, but either way, when your mouth opened, it felt as though all your past doubts had washed away, and for once, you were free.
"I have always held onto my dreams through the tip of a pen, existing in between the lines of my poetry. But I don't write about deep philosophical pearls of wisdom; I write about love, passion, beauty. I write about coffee and cream, roses and vanilla. I write what I think romance tastes like, how the contrast of the most iconic confessions has been written in the rain, a usually gloomy, grey thing completely transformed through the lenses of love…" You sigh, tilting your head against the back of the cushion in bliss.
"I write the way I want to love, for I know it's the only way to quell my heart's aching urge to live anywhere but reality."
He stares at you eerily still, blinking once, twice, three times."
Why wasn't he saying anything?  
Perhaps you were drunk off Felix's promises, or the cracks Chan created in your chest made you bleed with a passion only ever reserved for your poetry. But either way, you felt naked—exposed under his exploring eyes.
"What?" You croak, picking at the sleeve of your shirt.
Why did everybody act like you were crazy?
Was there something wrong with you?
You are floating in the asteroid belt, a thousand tiny rocks hovering around your head.
"Maybe you're just not looking in the right places." There’s a deep intensity in his eyes, a million roaring waves crashing against each other; you run face-first into a meteor, bouncing around the surfaces of a weightless space.
How many brain-altering revelations could Felix bestow before your brain cracks?
"You know, I haven't even told my friends that," you deflect. It was a dangerous game, diving too deep into your thoughts, and right now, with him—with that statement, danger could quickly bleed into destruction.
"So, I'm not your friend?" Clearly, Felix catches on to the sudden swerve of the conversation, how he eases into it with such grace, jestingly poking your knee.
"This is the first time I've ever had a real conversation with you," you scoff, poking him right back. His jaw drops in faux offense.
"You know, I just gave you my food. I think that deserves an upgrade into friendship territory," he states matter-of-factly.
Two can play at that game-
"I don't have your number; usually friends have each other's number." You place your elbows on your knees. He has been playing a metaphorical game of chess with you this whole time, his pawns moving ever so slightly forward. He forced your hand, the comfortability in your eyes making openings on the board you never meant to create. His rook, his bishop, his queen—they kiss the place right below your king.
You had one more trick up your sleeve-
You were a creative romantic whose moves were nothing less than a story, and you were going to be damned if you let your king be captured.
Now, where's the happy ending in that?
(cookie interruptions… I dont know what this is nor why i am so dramatic but hey what can you do ALSO LISTEN TO SLOW DOWN BY CHASE ATLANTIC I BEGTH OF YOU )
He leans forward, pressing his tongue against his cheek. The fabric of his shirt stretches across the hard ridges of his abs—
No, stop it, bad y/n. 
"Do you want it?" He leans his head ever. So. Slightly. Forward  
"Maybe I do."
"Maybe I'll give it to you," soft, smooth voice- 
you narrow your eyes,
"What will Chan think?"
"It doesn't matter what Chan thinks-"
"Tell that to Chan-"
"Maybe I will." His lips-
"You know, if Chan saw us here right now, he would not be very happy." You suck your teeth.
Check-
He scoffs. Moves his bishop. 
You're right back where you started. 
"You're not his pet."
"Yeah, but I am his girlfriend." Block.
"Those two words are not synonymous," he says. Moves his queen.
Too many openings, too many moves, too many pieces on the board.
Too many outcomes.
Do you even still want to play?
Weren't you the one who started the game?
You bite your cheek, his eyes burning like molten amber, glinting in the overhead lights.
Should you have really asked for his number?
What would Chan think if he saw it in your phone?
Who were you kidding? He would actually have enough time to look at your phone.
"You know," he leans back, extending his arms to drape across the couch, pushing his thighs ever so slightly apart. Gone is the man with smiles like sugar; determination wisps across his face like spits of fire, overtaking every feature."If I give you my number, I'm going to have to help you unlearn your engraved cynicism." He's closing in on you, moving all his pawns in one fair swoop. You're surrounded, swarmed.
"You can't ungrave something it's scientifically impossible." You shift your king. One last dying breath-
Before- 
"I can try."
Checkmate
And like every person of honor does when they have nobly lost a battle they created- 
You run away. 
“I have to admit, as much as I loved this conversation, I really should be going,” you say, picking up your tray of forgotten food to chuck in the trash, leaving Felix's bowl on the table. He jumps up, scrambling to pick up his mess while you dart out the door, tossing the tray in the can just outside the room.
“Wait,” he gasps, stumbling to catch up with your speed. Your finger, out of habit, moves to press the button to the elevator doors—that is, before he catches it, his warm hand wraps around your wrist.
“Now, what gentleman would I be making a lady get her own door?” He bellows, voice deep and low, a sound echoing through his chest as the fabric of his shirt kisses your back. He’s so close, so close, so—
How long has it been since you've been touched? 
Heat. You're drenched in it, painted in it, enveloped in it.
His hand grazes your skin as he slides up your wrist, his finger extending to press the button.
Your breath hitches.
Body shutters. 
Every atom erupting in flames. 
The elevator doors slam open-
Your brain clicks back into place-
“Will I be seeing you again?” Your hot, so hot. He’s hot, so hot. Breath—it tickles your ear. Disoriented, so disoriented.
“I still don't have your number,” you manage to utter, slipping into the doors. His face will be the final thing you see as you descend down the shaft, lifelessly walking to your car where you will go home, go to sleep, and start your routine all over again. He smirks, flicking his eyes to your pants.
“Yes, you do.”
I do? 
The doors inch shut, and a small, teeny-tiny part of you wants to wrench them open, pull him in, force him into the stanzas of your story. You are tired—tired of waiting for your life to begin, tired of repeating the same vicious cycle.
But that wasn't you talking- 
That was the hopeless part of your personality,
The unrealistic-
The fiction- 
Life wasn't a game and reality wasn't a book. 
You had a good thing going wth Chris and you were going to be damned to ruin it just because of one fun conversation.
You reach one finger into the back pocket, feeling around for what Felix could have been talking about.
There's no way.
Your skin brushes across a smooth surface—something that definitely wasn’t there before.
There's no fucking way.
You pull it out.
It's pink and folded and definitely written on. You unfold it.
XXX-XXX-XXXX. Just in case you ever need an editor or a friend.
Oh well, fuck the game. He just flipped over the whole damn chessboard.
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Read Chapter 2 here
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yoyoyokii · 7 months
Text
Avoidant
Zoro x Reader
was meant to be fluff, became angst kind to comfort to fluff?
Originally wrote this @mazzieboohoo in my notes app (a girls best friend) instead of sleeping BUT I workshopped it a bit more so here TAKE IT
I don't care if it doesn't make sense that's not my problem
2.5k words
༺。° .ᘛ𓆩♡𓆪ᘚ. ° 。༻
Avoidant.
That’s the best, and probably the only, way to describe your boyfriend right now. He seems to spend every waking moment prioritising his training, and while you aren't all that mad at having the opportunity to watch your EXTREMELY attractive lover show off his muscles as his sweat glistens deliciously beneath the harsh rays of the sun, you couldn’t help but worry about him. Okay… you were also beginning to get kind of - well, more than kind of - jealous at the way a stack of metal was getting more attention from Zoro than you were… no! You are a good girlfriend! So- Mainly you are worried. 
Stress and conflicted feelings are gnawing at his heart, it's so obvious, even to Luffy, Mr Oblivious himself! It doesn't help that, in typical Zoro fashion, his choice of resolution is to suppress these emotions at all costs. This was probably the least desirable trait of his, apart from his shocking navigation skills obviously, and you just wish he wouldn't be so difficult when it came to things like this. The whole crew feels like they have to walk on eggshells around him, it's just tiring at this point. His attitude has been hard on everyone, especially for poor Chopper, who sees your boyfriend more-or-less as a father figure and is now convinced that Zoro hates him. 
He isn’t himself when it comes to the nighttime either, in fact, this is now the part of the day that you dread the most. He has been making an unhealthy habit of clambering into your shared bed in the early hours of the morning, absolutely reeking of sake. He then becomes completely restless and spends those minimal hours of rest stirring about, keeping you awake while he's at it. Every night you beg him to talk to you about it, and every night he plainly tells you it’s nothing, and goes back to borderline ignoring you. You aren't quite sure what hurts more, the fact that he is ignoring you, or the fact that he is just straight-up lying to you.
“Hey, I’m sure he’ll be fine, you’re worrying too much” Nami manages to pull you out of your thoughts, smiling at you before sitting at your side. She joins you in enjoying the pleasantry of the summer breeze and you can’t help but pout a little at her words. She is right. She is always right.
“I’m not worried, just making sure he doesn’t hurt himself.” you lie, squinting your eyes as you look out at the sun setting beyond the horizon. The afternoon glare makes your head ache a little and you are sure that you're falling victim to, what is going to be, a painful sunburn. Oh well, that's a problem for your future self. 
Nami huffs at your pathetic attempt at a lie, before swiftly changing the topic. She begins to talk about how perfect the upcoming weather is going to be for your travels to the next island or something. You know she is just trying to lighten the mood, but you can't really focus. Honestly, you feel nauseous, and there is now a growing pit of anxiety bubbling in the depths of your stomach. You begin to question if it's all your fault, that maybe you are the root cause of Zoro’s distress. This uneasiness spurs in your gut and becomes more unbearable, bile threatening to rise beyond its threshold. You begin to think about how the both of you had only really become official recently, after flirting back and forth for months, and how it had only been since then that he had been acting so… off-
“HEY- are you even listening to me?!?!" Nami yells as she nudges your shoulder. You pretend to draw back in pain, attempting to pull off some sort of comedic relief. It's more for yourself rather than to distract Nami from the fact that you didn’t hear a single thing she said (not paying her attention can be fatal...). BUT LUCKILY FOR YOU- 
She just stands, grabbing at your arm to pull you up with her. She now holds your hand and leads the two of you back to everyone else. She utters something about dinner almost being ready and you can't help but to laugh as she enthusiastically declares that it is gonna be the most delicious thing you’re ever going to taste because she ever-so-kindly requested the dish herself. Yeah, she has definitely just used Sanji again to feed her cravings like the girlboss she is🤷 
You couldn’t stomach dinner, no matter how delicious it was, and to sweet dear Sanji’s dismay you had to excuse yourself from the table. Unfortunately, the ease you previously felt from Nami’s presence disappeared as quickly as it appeared, and so you now find yourself sitting on the floor of the soldier deck. 
The stars are abnormally bright tonight, the full moon stares back at you with a sort of glare that makes it feel as if it's empathising with you. You lean back against the Thousand-Sunny's railing and curl your legs up, hugging them against your stomach. As the breeze toys with the fallen strands of your hair and you gaze upwards into the night, you can’t help but wonder if the myth of cosmic love was true. You can’t help but wonder if you and Zoro shared this connection, or if it was all just a love of convenience for him.
It’s these strings of thought that bring you right back to the day that he had finally confessed to you. You reminisce on how you went to bed that night kicking your feet and smiling like an idiot to yourself. You remember thinking about your future with him, and how, when your heart finally began to calm and you dozed to sleep, you found yourself dreaming of everlasting love. Yes, it was embarrassing and childish, even you’ll admit it, but it was nice to finally feel wanted romantically, especially by someone as stoic and stone-faced as Zoro.
You can’t help but smile fondly, albeit a little sadly, at this memory. If only there was to be a shooting star, so that you can wish to go back in time to this moment, to relish in that feeling of giddiness for just a little longer. 
Scouring the night sky for any glimmer of hope, or just for something to distract you from the heaviness adorning your chest, someone’s presence disturbs your failing attempt at finding peace.
Zoro.
He moves to sit with you. A weird sort of tension begins to hang so thickly in the air that you believe you might suffocate. You aren’t prepared for this sudden confrontation, for him to so casually approach you as if he hasn't been avoiding you for god knows how long. Before you can muster up the courage to finally break the silence and say something, he does it for you.
“I’m sorry.” His voice is firm and unwavering, almost intimidating yet somehow soft at the same time. It's as if he never actually intended to hurt you. You should be mad- no more than mad, borderline ready to fight him! After all this stress he caused you, he can only say sorry??? But no. You force yourself to be the bigger person.
“It’s alright.” You pause your thought, now turning your head to look at him. But before you can continue, he interrupts.
“No… it’s not alright” his brows furrow and he returns your graze, staring so deeply into your soul that it almost burns.
“Before you say anything. I need you to know that my shitty actions were not a result of anything you’ve said or done. okay? I know how you tend to overthink.” He breaks his intense eye contact to look down at his lap, almost like he’s hesitant, seemingly taking his time to formulate his next string of words in a way that wouldn’t make you feel guilty. Before he can continue to explain, he pauses. You know that he's expecting your usual snappy reply that's fueled with some snarky remark or joke. That's how you usually respond when a situation gets too serious for your liking. He knows what to expect from you, so when this awaited response never comes, he realises that you must be gathering your thoughts. And so, he decides to give you a few minutes. 
He said he knows you. And it’s true, he knows you like no one else does. You really were just overthinking to the point that it was making you a complete mess. A tear of relief slips from your eye as you fight the urge to fully break down. You quickly go to wipe the tear away, but this action doesn’t go unnoticed by Zoro, of course it doesn’t.
“What? Is something wrong with your eye?” God he’s so daft sometimes. His question is so ridiculous that it almost makes you laugh. However, you just can’t control it anymore and more tears continue to flow.
 “Hey- are you okay? Why are you crying?”
You feel too stupid and selfish to admit that he was the root cause of your tears, so of course, you lie. Again.
“Well… do you ever look at something so beautiful that it makes you want to cry? That’s how a full moon makes me feel, and it’s extra beautiful tonight…” you attempt to steady your breathing as you fake a smile towards him. 
The warmth of his hand moves to sit against the side of your face as he uses his thumb to wipe away a new stream that's spilled over the curve of your cheek. The familiar feeling of his skin against yours is so comforting that it is his touch alone that begins to heal the uneasiness plaguing your heart. And so you lean further into him, welcoming this newfound sense of solace. 
“Of course I do, that's how I feel whenever I look at you.”  
It's this statement that constricts your throat to the point of no return and forces you to choke out the most pathetic sob. At first Zoro’s visibly confused by this, not understanding why you’ve had such a visceral reaction to his words, after all, he was simply telling the truth. If he feels uncomfortable by your emotional outburst he doesn’t show it. He instead wraps his burly arms around your shuddering frame and holds you so securely that you’re sure you are going to suffocate. But come on, we all know you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
Now. It’s a common misconception that Roronoa Zoro is too much of a ‘tough guy’ to be affectionate, that he is always too stern for his own good. But this isn't true, especially when it comes to you. Yes, he’s straightforward, overly suspicious at times, and generally a serious guy. But, he’s also loyal, caring, and would die for his crew. Just because he doesn't like to publicly display his gratitude for everyone, it was always there, and his little acts of love for the crew never went unnoticed by you. He knows this about you, that you always take notice of others, it’s part of the reason as to why he loves you so much. 
Your body crumples against his torso, weeping into his chest. You can’t help but to apologise, suddenly feeling guilty for interrupting such a rare confession.
“I’m sorry, I’m so selfish for crying…” you say in between stuttering breaths as you attempt to stabilise your emotions. “I thought you hated me. I’m just so relieved!” 
He stays quiet, listening intently to you as he runs his fingers through your hair.
“Zoro, please talk to me. I’m sorry for interrupting, please tell me what’s bothering you, I hate that you’ve been struggling alone.” You’re rambling now and your words are being muffled by the material clinging between his torso and your lips. You don’t care. You only pray that he listens to you.
“You care too much about me,” he chuckles softly before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “The reason I’ve been such an asshole is because I’ve never loved someone like I’ve loved you. I don’t usually worry about this kind of stuff, but I think I'm a bit shit scared of my own feelings.”. 
You cradle your head upwards, looking up at him with your now puffy, red eyes. Now you listen.
A deep sigh escapes from his taut lips, “It’s just… the last time I cared for someone. Well, you know how that ended.”.
He doesn’t have to say anything else. The point has been made, and you nod in a sympathetic understanding. His eyes grow glassy, tears threatening to spill through his eyelashes. You’ve never seen him so vulnerable. You don’t want to pry, and you know that words of comfort don’t work on someone like Zoro, so you stay silent, instead opting to reach up to cradle his head into your chest. This change in dynamics is definitely not something he is usually comfortable with, but it’s what he needs right now. This loving action pushes him over the edge, and funnily enough, he’s now the one sobbing into your arms instead.
You both sit like this for a while, with you sitting patiently, drawing imaginary soothing circles on Zoro’s upper back. His tears dried a while ago and you aren’t sure how long it’s been since anyone last spoke, but you’re willing to wait until the end of time if it meant that he could feel a moment of comfort within your arms. 
Your reassuring touches do make him feel better. He’s never felt so loved. So cared for. He’s never been the one on the receiving end of a hold so intimate and full of empathy. The idea that someone will willingly listen to him without judgment, that someone can accept his words without forcing a solution.
“This must have been hard, I'm proud of you. Thank you for talking to me.” You finally say, in the softest voice you can muster. He breaks away from your hold so gently, as if he’s afraid that moving too hastily will break you (you are his most precious possession after all). 
You both now sit in a weird and quite awkward entanglement of limbs, staring at each other in a newfound sense of mutual agreement of understanding. Everything makes sense to you, and Zoro finds comfort in knowing that his worries have been heard. A win-win some would say. 
Neither of you say anything, it's pointless. Words can’t show how grateful you are for one another. It’s like they always say, actions speak louder than words, right?
And so he kisses you. 
It definitely isn’t the first time you’ve kissed, but it’s the first time you’ve kissed like this. It’s all-consuming, so filled with love that it’s almost overwhelming, you believe his mouth is heaven; his tongue the eternal paradise. There’s a certain kind of bliss that can only be found in the tenderness of Zoro’s arms, and you wish more people understood saw his soft side, but maybe it's just meant to be your secret to keep. He never meant to be cruel. He just loves you. He always will.
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aauroraxia · 3 months
Note
The polar opposites the 5'0 pregnant reader who knows he deserves better and the only one who can break his wall down but very feisty when she need to be. Very scary when she hungry. Everything time he look at her . His heart just can't take it
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Trance
Armando Aretas
genre: fluff ig
warnings: none rlly
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Polar- no complete opposites
Mike needed Armando’s help on a case. You were also asked by Mike to help.
That’s where you two met.
You and Armando
He took a interest in you and your relationship grew from there. But he did soon realize something, not really a problem but instead, a fact. You two were complete opposites.
Mean and Nice
Hot and Cold
Fast and Slow
This made it hard for him to plan dates and things for you two to do, finding something that you both could enjoy. But, there were still restrictions on what you to could do, him being a wanted man and all.
So most of the time y’all spend together are at your apartment. Which led to you being 3 months pregnant. You hadn’t told Mike yet but you think he suspects it.
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Kelly still suspects that Armando is a terrible person and was going to hurt you sooner or later.
You, Armando, Kelly, Mike, Marcus, and Dorn were staying late at the agency. You and Kelly were just talking while the boys were searching places and people on Dorn’s computer.
Kelly started glaring at Armando
“I just don’t trust him. He’s a disrespectful, self-centered, arrogant criminal.”
Armando wasn’t deaf, he could obviously hear Kelly. He turned his head glancing at you, then back at the computer.
You’d had it with Kelly, “You’ve been taking shots at Armando ever since he started working with us. Well that stops now. You don’t know him enough to judge him off of past actions! So if you have something say, say it now and we will walk out the door right now and we’ll never help you with anything ever again!”
You heart was racing. You were fed up. Armando walked over to you he leaned down and whispered in your ear “Tu bebe luchadora, me gusta.” You smiled looking up at him.
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Y’all’s relationship was great. Armando is usually known as deadpanned, unemotional, or stonefaced. He would never show his true emotions, nor communicate how he felt. Everyone brushed it off and let him be him.
But that wouldn’t fly with you. You would break that wall down before it was even finished being built. You’re patient with him. But he’s also patient with you.
Pregnancy hormones and hungers are no joke. Mike, Marcus, and Kelly would describe you as scary when you’re hungry, Armando thought it was muy linda, cute. He was completely in love with you.
The way you walked, the way you talked, everything you do makes his heart do backflips. So much that his heart couldn’t take it. You had him in a trance.
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Translations:
Tu bebe luchadora, me gusta - You’re feisty baby, i like it.
Hii! This story was just a little difficult for me to write for some reason and it’s definitely not the best so I’ll probably have to rewrite it. I honesty feel like my writing isn’t even good enough to be published right now but hey🤷🏽‍♀️. I think my issue is that I want my writing to be like everyone else’s and I’m very self conscious. Anywho keep the requests coming, I will be posting one more story today!
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apomaro-mellow · 12 days
Text
King and Prince 32
Part 31
Steve was lounging in his sheets, still dressed in his bed clothes as he reread one of Eddie’s letters. The way he described it, Steve was some sort of hammer-wielding hero of legend. Last he’d heard of Jason, he had slinked back home. Steve was through with worrying about him though. The people had seen his strength and honor and any who had doubts about his and the king’s courtship were now swayed in his favor. But at the end of the day, it was just about him and Eddie.
The next day, Steve was gifted a beautiful sketch drawing of himself, hammer held in a protective stance. Steve traced the lines of his face, his nose, and his mouth. Did he really look that handsome to Eddie? Eddie was completely open with his adoration now. Not that he had cared to keep quiet about it before. But now Eddie held nothing back. Hence the amount of love letters he had received. 
Eddie seemed a natural talent when it came to both writing and orating. He had such a way with words that made him believable and gave him a command that most men would never even dream of. His own father wasn’t nearly so eloquent as king, choosing instead to let force and cruelty ensure his power and position. Eddie was different from his father in a lot of ways. Most particularly in his shows of emotion.
Steve didn’t even know if his parents had ever been in love. He had no memories of them being affectionate or ever professing their feelings for one another. Steve wanted it to be different between him and Eddie.
To that end, he found Robin, who was in the middle of polishing some brass.
“I need help writing.”
She looked up from her work, eyebrow raised. “Are you…incapable or…?”
Steve rolled his eyes. “I am perfectly capable of writing. I just-need help making sure it sounds right.”
“Are you really about to make me proofread poetry from you to our wet rat of a king?”
“Careful, that nearly sounds treasonous”, Steve teased.
“I don’t hear any disagreement.”
“Well, I haven’t seen him in any state but dry. So I don’t have a frame of reference”, Steve said. “Now will you please help? You’re the only one I can ask.”
“I reserve the right to gag.”
-------------------------
My sweet king,
Your words touch me in a way no one has. I find myself wasting the night hours and candle wax, reading them before bed. If I am half the man you espouse, then I must be truly worthy of your grace. To know that you are just as enamored with me as I am with you has me floating on clouds. 
Dare I tell you my dreams? How I long to be closer to you? I know we play these games of propriety but I can never remember why. You know I am not untouched. So what makes you stay your hand? Is it a law that exists outside of us? If so, I yearn to know. For there is not a force between us that could keep us apart.
It was signed simply with Steve’s initials but Eddie would have known even without that who the sender was. There was only one responding to his correspondences after all. The sun had already dipped below the horizon, dinner and dessert had been served and now the castle was winding down for its slumber. He had already bid Steve good night, but he had to see him now. He was dressed for bed, a loose shirt and pants, feet bare, rings already removed and put away for tomorrow and he figured Steve would be in a similar state, but he couldn’t keep himself away. Not after having read his latest letter.
So he crept out of his room, not a particularly hard feat as the patrols were set in such a way that his room was rarely guarded at night. Eddie needed the least amount of protection. He made his way to Steve’s door and knocked, hoping he was still awake.
“Who is it?”, Steve’s voice was muffled by the thick door.
“Your greatest admirer”, Eddie said, cheek pressed to the door. 
“Sir Cox?”, Steve joked as he opened the door and just as Eddie had guessed, he was dressed in a similar fashion, prepared for bed. 
“Sir Cox? Who is that? Has he been sending you letters?”, Eddie asked.
Steve snickered and he looked like a dream with the candlelight from his room lighting him up from behind. “There is no Sir Cox. Only you and your delightful wordsmithing.”
“Well now I wonder. I’ve no doubt you must have several admirers after your bout with Carver.”
“You are the only one that sees me as a man to be pursued”, Steve said.
“Then I am the only one with eyes. Come with me”, Eddie held out his hand.
“Where to?”, Steve asked, already giving his hand.
“You’ll see.” Eddie pulled Steve along, their steps echoing in the dark halls. 
Steve felt like a kid again, going out past curfew for mischief and wondered what he and Eddie might get up to. Was this just a silly excursion under cover of darkness? Or did Eddie have something more intimate in mind? Eddie snickered as he pilfered a sheet from the laundry and then draped it over Steve like a veil. Eddie was struck by how bridal he looked.
“What I’m about to do is called shadow travel”, Eddie said, coming in close to whisper to Steve. “It can be disorienting for the first time, so close your eyes and hold tight to me.”
Steve nodded, doing as instructed. His arms went around Eddie and he closed his eyes. Eddie held him and suddenly Steve felt a cool rush of wind. He was tempted to open his eyes but worried he’d be disoriented if he did. When the rush stopped it was replaced by a soft breeze. He ventured to open his eyes and saw that they were beneath a large tree. Eddie led Steve from under it and took the sheet to lay it on the ground. Eddie sat down first and then patted the space next to him, prompting Steve to do the same.
The moon was a half eaten pie in the sky, glowing a pale white in a way that was rivaled only by the tapestry of stars.
“Do you have any favorite star stories?”, Eddie asked.
Steve thought about it. “I can’t remember what the constellation looks like, but I like the Two Lovers. And the Mother of the Skies.”
Eddie grabbed Steve’s hand and used it to point to a star duo. “The Two Lovers.” Then he pointed to a bright twinkle. “The Mother and right under her is Eldest Daughter, then Foolish Son, then Helpful Son, then Wisest Daughter, then-”
“Are you going to name all of the children? We’ll be here all night”, Steve laughed.
“Would that be such a bad thing?”
“If you attend the council with bags under your eyes, I won’t be blamed. I’m sure they already don’t care for me.”
Eddie released Steve’s hand but moved closer to him. “Fortunately, they’re not the ones courting you.”
“But they do make decisions concerning you and your kingdom. Their opinion of me is important.”
“I think most opinions have turned favorably to you now, little prince. There’s hardly a word against you anymore.”
“But what about for me?”
Eddie blinked. “What do you mean?”
Steve’s knees pulled up to his chest. “You treat me like a prince. But a prince is supposed to have power and importance… My father has yet to respond to my letter. Without his involvement, I can’t promise you anything. If you marry me, you’ll get nothing but myself. There’s no promise of peace or even an opportunity for any sort of harmony between our kingdoms. Why should you marry me if there isn’t an advantage for you?”
“Sweet prince, good prince.” Eddie took Steve’s chin to turn his face towards him before continuing. “Benevolent prince, honorable prince. You say that as if you are nothing. You think you have nothing to offer when there is nothing more precious than yourself.”
“Me?”
Steve looked at him, eyes sparkling with starlight. His legs lowered and he turned to face his body to Eddie, opening himself up. Eddie leaned in more, their noses bumping.
“You”, he said, closing the distance between their lips.
It was dipping into a lake after a hot day. It was opening a door to someone smiling at you. It was being told you did a great job when having doubted yourself. Kissing Eddie could be described in many words. But the one that came to Steve right now was relief. Relief when he felt Eddie’s lips move against his own. Relief in knowing that Eddie had wanted this just as much.
A feeling that turned into something more heady when Steve sighed against his mouth and Eddie whimpered. 
“Why have you been holding back?”, Steve asked, sharing the same breath as Eddie when he pulled away.
“Because I felt like I couldn’t stop if I got a taste”, Eddie confessed, chest moving up and down before he chased after Steve’s lips.
“Stop”, Steve said, putting a hand up.
Eddie froze in place, waiting for his next command. Smirking, Steve came forward again and dug his fingers into Eddie’s hair.
“See? You know how to follow orders.” He couldn’t see Eddie blush but he could feel the warmth in his face when he rubbed their cheeks together.
“You’ll be the death of me”, Eddie groaned.
“Imagine that, immortal king taken down by a single kiss”, Steve grinned.
“A single kiss, a dazzling smile, bewitching laugh. You have many weapons in your arsenal.”
“You know”, Steve said before leaning in for a kiss. “This would be much better-” kiss “in a bed.” Kiss.
Eddie’s eyes bulged at the prospect and they sneaked back into the castle, dropping off the sheet off at the laundry. Overcome, Eddie ended up kissing Steve along the way, against this wall, against that wall, it seemed they could only go a few feet before getting lost in each other’s lips again. They were nearly to Steve’s room when they heard voices and saw candlelight from around the corner.
They froze in place when Mike, Dustin, and Lucas came around the bend. The three boys also froze. 
“What are you guys doing here?”, Dustin pointed his finger first.
“I was just-I was escorting Steve back to his room. And here we are and here he is and this is where we say good night. Good night, Steve”, Eddie kissed Steve’s cheek and then hightailed it back to his own quarters. 
Steve was smiling the whole time at Edward’s frantic act, going into his room and having nearly closed the door all the way when he realized - what were the boys doing sneaking around at night.
“Hey wait a minute!”, he opened the door back up to the hallway, only to see darkness and hear silence. 
They had already scurried off. Well, no matter. Steve touched his lips, the feel of it still fresh. He went to bed, dreaming of Eddie’s mouth and hoping he was doing the same about him.
Part 33
If you saw me make a post about them having their first kiss in the winter, no you didn't.
Taglist CLOSED
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66 notes · View notes
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ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: sully kids x hard of hearing metkayina male reader (platonic)
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ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: In a search for a way to communicate with you, the family has to master Na'vi sign language. Along the way of teaching them, however, you learn more about yourself.
ᴀɴᴏɴ: can you do a male Metkayina clan reader BUT the reader is hard of hearing because of the water from swimming.
ʀᴇ𝐐: yes ~ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 6148 ~ extra ~ gn reader vers.
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: feelings of shame and embarrassment, struggling to hear and understand people (and yourself), hints of angst
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ᴍᴀʏʙ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: we don't have resources for their exact sign language so i made some things up (since na'vi sign language isn't the same as asl) as well as iknimaya trials and traditions.
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Ever since you were a kid, you had always loved the ocean. The Metkayina clan was a tribe of the water, the ocean, so it made sense; but unlike others your age who preferred to play with each other, you enjoyed being completely surrounded by Eywa's children within the ocean.
You had no qualms with solitude, as all you needed was the sea; but eventually, it proved to be a problem.
The sea gives and the sea takes; it gave you a world to love and took your hearing.
☾⋆☆⋆☽
Tsireya introduced you to Sully's in their first lesson as one of the Metkayina who truly loved the ocean. "This is our best free diver," She put a hand on your shoulder, "(y/n). You're lucky I managed to find him."
Instead of responding in some negative way at her comment, you grin and offer a small wave.
"How so?" Lo'ak questions.
Tsireya doesn't answer outright. She giggles, "You'll see."
The chief's children and you jump into the water, demonstrating the proper way to dive in that best transitions into swimming. The Sully's, on the other hand, jump into the water as though in play.
You could see it in their eyes, their amazement. The sea was an entirely different world from the one above, it was something you loved about it.
Only the Na'vi and their animal companions mingled on the coast above. The ilu could be compared to their banshees, nothing special; and the people, though physically different, were still Na'vi.
You didn't doubt that these water creatures were unlike anything they'd seen before, and you were happy that they were astonished with the wildlife you, too, loved.
You turn back forward to swim, knowing that they'll follow. You show them the form, using your tail to help and keeping your body like a spear to be able to cut through the water.
You lead them deeper into the sea, but Ao'nung taps your shoulder. You turn to follow his finger, which points up.
The Sully's were taking a breath of air. Right, that's probably something you should teach them, but you were probably not the best teacher.
Within the water, your safe haven, you tended to forget many things, so you signed to them, keep going, forgetting they didn't know how to sign.
You keep swimming, this time checking up on them as you reach an underwater slope. They were bad swimmers, it seemed, which is an idea sort of incomprehensible to you, as every Metkayina was basically born in the ocean. They pushed off of coral and rock formations to push forward and keep up.
They don't even make it to you when they go back up for air.
What's wrong with them? Ao'nung signs.
They're bad divers. Rotxo replies. Though fingers and hands hardly conveyed emotion, you knew from Rotxo and Ao'nung's generally jokester demeanor that he was making fun of them.
Stop, they're learning. Tsireya scolds.
Whilst they talk to one another, you get distracted with something out of the corner of your eye. It was bioluminescence, hardly noticeable during the daytime, which is why it's so curious. You forget the lesson at hand and follow it.
The chief's children and Rotxo swim up to talk to the Sully's where they will actually understand each other. It is only after Tsireya promises to teach them sign language, which Neteyam ignorantly describes as "finger talk", that they notice you and their dear sister's disappearance.
The bioluminescence you had caught came from a lone hammerhead squid, which is even more peculiar because it was alone. Perhaps it was paranoid, because when it saw you, it began swimming away with determination.
You struggle to catch up with it.
It dives behind large coral, hoping to lose you, but you always catch up. Hammerhead squids found safety in numbers, so they usually didn't go so fast, which means it would tire out soon.
Knowing this, you kept up the chase. Regardless, however, it puts up a good fight.
It shoots out its ink prematurely. The black liquid disperses in the water, clouding much of the view ahead of you. Instead of swimming through it, you dive under, although you almost bump into a sharp rock. Narrowly, you avoid it, swimming up quickly once you're past the ink.
Though you move past it, its original outcome–clouding your view–succeeds. When you clear the ink, you suddenly bump into someone.
Sorry. You sign, rubbing at your forehead where you'd bumped into her, so so sorry.
The girl before you is one of the Sully's. Her eyebrows furrow, confusion in her face, but you misinterpret it as anger. Great, it's the Sully's first day in the clan and you were already giving bad impressions.
I didn't mean to bump into you.
Her eyebrows furrow further. Ultimately, although she doesn't like it, she decides to surface so that the two of you may speak. She points up and you understand.
Once you're up at the surface, she says, "I don't know what you're saying."
You had long since memorized the way one's mouth moves when they say those words, and their variations, so you explain, "I was apologizing for bumping into you."
Though the next couple words come muddled to you, you just barely catch her saying "alright" and a wave of relief washes over you. "What's your name?"
"Kiri." She gives you a polite smile.
"Nice to meet you, Kiri." You nod. "I didn't realize we'd lost you while diving. Why'd you wander off?"
"Oh, I um," She worries that you may think her a freak, so she waters it down. "I got distracted."
You chuckle, "Yeah, I get it. Happens a lot to me too. It's like a different world, isn't it?"
Her face lights up when you agree with her, "Yeah, it is." She ached to observe it again, to be surrounded by Eywa'eveng. "Do you mind if I..?" She gestures down.
You tilt your head, confused. "You what?"
"Go down again." Kiri mutters, little ashamed to say out loud that she'd rather be underwater than talk with you, but you manage to read her lips.
"Oh, of course I don't." You shake your head, "Actually, I was in the middle of finding something. Do you wanna come with?"
Though she much preferred to take the sights all in on her own and on her own time, she had to admit your offer was interesting. "Okay, sure." She nods.
Kiri follows you back underwater, and keeps swimming after you. Reminded of the other Sully's, you make sure to keep your head straight and swim at a slower pace.
As you keep swimming past large coral and columns of algae, trying to catch a glimpse of the squid you were searching for before, Kiri gets distracted by something particularly special out of the corner of her eye.
She stays in place, entranced, and almost swims for it before remembering the task at hand. However, when she turns to you, you're swimming back to her.
Txampaysye. You sign, but of course she wouldn't understand. So, you wave your hand in the water to create ripples in the current and signify the water. Then, you pass a hand from your stomach to your throat and out your mouth to signify breathing. Breathing underwater.
Somehow, she understands. Though the butterfly-like Txampaysye catches her attention, uncharacteristically of her, she gestures for you to keep going. She'll have time another day.
Just a bit of swimming later, you find the squid again. It doesn't notice you. You point at it and Kiri's head tilts with curiosity.
How could a squid be bioluminescent in the day? The sunlight's rays still reached it.
Do you want to catch it? You closed your hand, from splayed fingers into a fist very quickly, the sign for catch. It was pretty straight forward, so Kiri understood; what she didn't understand, and what she was against, was the idea.
The question was only formal. You swim forward without waiting for her answer, thinking she wanted to catch it.
You approach it as silently as possible, keeping your arms to your body and swaying up and down, using your feet like a fin. You keep your tail rigid and in place, for paddling it side to side as opposed to up and down like your legs would create unnecessary noise.
Once you are close enough, you lunge with a quick, sharp movement. It doesn't have time to react before you catch it between your fingers and palm.
Triumphantly, you turn to Kiri with your hand raised, failing to notice her growing anger. You swim towards her with enthusiasm.
Fyìp ioang. You sign.
For a moment you think you may be misinterpreting confusion as anger again, but you quickly realize you're interpreting correctly. Kiri pries your fingers apart, freeing the creature who spurts the last of its ink (only a little) and leaves.
Her eyebrows are furrowed, a look you hate, and she points up towards the surface again. You follow, embarrasment beginning to spread through your body.
"You shouldn't be taking animals against their will." She scolds, pointing an accusatory finger at you. Her anger was loud and clear in her voice, loud enough for you to hear.
"Sorry." You purse your lips and mumble so low you can't even hear it yourself, "I was only curious."
She huffs, "Your curiosity doesn't mean you can imprison them just to poke and prod."
"Yeah," You point your gaze down, "you're right."
"Just don't do it again." With that, she begins to swim away, not caring if you follow her.
With shame, you dive back into the water, in search of one of your favorite places to soothe yourself.
She was right, of course, but your curiosity was often one of your driving points. It was why you spent most of your time in the ocean, what kept you entertained underwater. On the other hand, it was also why you'd lost so much of your hearing.
☾⋆☆⋆☽
The next morning, on their way to their second lesson, the Sully's find you.
Lo'ak, after yesterday, now understands why Tsireya was lucky to find you before. He thinks they're pretty lucky today, too, as it seems you're going to head into the ocean. "(y/n)!" He calls for your attention, but you don't hear him.
You're just about to dive in, so Lo'ak hurries up to meet you. He catches you by the shoulder. "Hey."
"Hey." You greet him with a smile. "What's up?"
"You left us yesterday. Where'd you go?" He asks curiously.
"I'm sorry, what?" You ask, having not heard him entirely.
"Where'd you go?" He repeats.
Again, you don't hear him. You purse your lips, the shame of not being able to understand people creeping in. "Oh, sorry, I didn't hear you."
"Where did you go?" Lo'ak repeats for the third time, slowing down his speech.
"Look, I'm really sorry–"
Neteyam catches up, slinging an arm over Lo'ak's shoulder. "What my brother means to ask is where you went yesterday, when you were supposed to be teaching us."
"Teach you?" You tilt your head as you think. Did the Olo'eyktan assign you something? Tsireya only took the opportunity because she saw you yesterday. You can't think of anything, though. "What am I supposed to teach you?"
Lo'ak sighs, "When you were teaching us how to free dive?"
The sigh makes you purse your lips. Your stupid ears were making people frustrated again. Still, you couldn't say anything when you didn't understand them. "...what about it?"
Tsireya comes to save you, noticing the struggle between you and the Sully's. "(y/n), here," She begins, pushing Lo'ak's hand off your shoulder, "struggles to hear, if you guys haven't noticed."
She signs to you, taking advantage of the fact they don't know how to sign. Do you want them to know your story?
You shake your head, to which she nods.
"It'd be much appreciated if you guys spoke louder, spoke clearer, and moved your mouths wider." She demonstrates the way they should speak as she instructs them. "It helps him to be able to read your lips until you learn how to sign."
"So he can hear us?" Lo'ak asks.
"Barely." You respond, reminding him that you are in fact in this conversation.
Neteyam nods, rubbing a burn into his brother's scalp. "Sorry, Lo'ak needs to remember these sorts of things."
"Shut up, bro." He pushes his brother away, causing him to skid sideways a few paces.
"(y/n), you would be a great help in teaching them sign language." Tsireya turns to you, signing as she speaks.
You understand, but you purse your lips. "Today? I sort of wanted to explore..."
"Doesn't have to be today, no," She shakes her head, "today is about breathing. If you want to leave, that's perfectly alright."
She smiles at you. Oh, Eywa, you loved Tsireya. She was so kind.
You take her permission and give a wave before diving into the water.
You swim farther into the ocean, trying to wash off your embarrassment with the cool water. It burned in your cheeks, anyway.
When the Olo'eyktan and Tsahìk found out about your hearing loss, you had already reached a point where there was no way to be healed. Everyone blamed your parents, their neglect for your ears and the proper care after a swim. But in truth, you knew you were also to blame.
It had been a long time since you were a burden. The Metkayina accommodated for your hearing loss. You were lucky to be born in the clan who originated the language that didn't require hearing. You had long since come to a comfortable life because of it.
When you realize that the embarrassment won't wear off so easy, you lay down on the sea grass covered sand—or lay down as best you can. The current pushes your head and limbs up.
Your intent was to relax, but the bioluminescent squid from yesterday pops up above you. You react quickly, reaching out and trapping it in your hand again.
You. You sign, awkward because you're one-handed, You embarrassed me in front of Kiri.
You'd missed two of its tentacles in grabbing it. It crosses its arms, giving you attitude, then pointed at you instead. Somehow, you understand.
Alright, fine. You huff, It's my fault. You release the squid, but this time it lingers. You forgive me?
It waves two of its tentacles up and down as if to nod its head.
You pluck a small fish from its school and hand it over as an extra peace offering. Sorry, fyìp.
It stares blankly at your offering. Clearly, it was refusing it, because it was definitely capable of catching that fish on its own. Also, you were ignoring the lesson Kiri taught you. You release the fish, which scurries back to its school, signing sorry again.
Why do you want to hang out with me?
The tentacles at its sides raise up in a shrug.
You lost your group. You purse your lips, extending your hand so that the squid may sit on it, even if it is redundant underwater. Are you trying to find a new one?
It shrugs again, though accepts the spot you give it on your hand.
Well, I suppose we're the same in that. You and I, we're special. I'm hard of hearing, and you're bioluminescent. You laugh inwardly, Although, those are two different things.
Fyìp does a twirl in your hand. It seems pleased.
Alright, let's go. I'll show you some of my favorite places.
☾⋆☆⋆☽
After the Sully's breathing exercises, Neteyam is eager to find you. He dives into the water, both practicing his breathing and speed.
For the third time, he's lucky to find you returning to the village for dinner, this time you were fortunately not caught up in exploring the sea.
Neteyam waves his hand in greeting. You do the same, though you hadn't realized he had more to say.
(y/n). He signs.
Immediately, your eyes light up. Neteyam is delighted.
Who taught you that? You sign. Your hands are a flurry of speed, but he manages to catch the words anyway.
He recognized "you" and "taught" and the distinct lack of "I", so he can assume what you asked. Tsireya. He signs simply, for she hadn't taught him much more than that and your names.
I'll teach you too.
He recognizes "I", "teach", and "you", and understands. He nods excitedly, then points up towards the surface. You follow.
"You're learning." You grin as you surface.
"Yeah." His smile turns bashful, "I want to learn so I can talk to you better." He even exaggerates the movement of his lips so that you may read them.
"Aww, that's sweet." Though you've only known him for so long, you give him a hug. "Thank you."
"No need to thank me." He shakes his head, still holding your elbows gently even as you part from the hug, "It's just what I should do."
☾⋆☆⋆☽
Oh, you skxawng! You're late, you're late, you're late!
Too caught up within the serenity that the sea brought you, you had forgotten that you were supposed to be teaching the Sully's sign language!
You swim towards the shore with much hurry. Your body was preoccupied with a mission, to get there fast, and your mind was berating you for being stuck in your head so much. Because of it, you're not exactly focusing on the world around you.
"Oof!" You grunt as you bump into a column. It was one of the ones that supported the Marui pods above.
You pull yourself up onto your elbows on the pathway between pods, spitting out the water you'd caught in your mouth when you bumped so stupidly into a column.
Your squid friend jumps up too, sticking to your leg then climbing up to your shoulder. Its sticky tentacles feel weird on your skin, but you pay it no mind. Instead, you focus on cradling the spot on your forehead where you collided.
When Fyìp lands on your shoulder, you turn to it with a huff and go back to rubbing your head. Then, once you actually notice, you double take back to it.
"You can go above the surface?"
Now, no longer muffled by the water, you can just barely catch its squeal. Huh, so it was making sound all this time.
It twirls around your shoulder as if to say yes.
You turn your head back forward, resting your chin on the pathway. "I'm so stupid–wait." The Sully's and the chief's children are having the lesson quite a few ways ahead of you. They didn't seem to notice you. "It's them."
Fyìp's eyes almost seem to light up when it sees Kiri.
"Gah, should I really be joining them now? I'm so late!" You frown, thinking it over. "I'd be so lost," You narrate your thoughts for Fyìp, "every time I think about something to teach, what if they already taught it? What even is their teaching plan? I shouldn't have gone out today. Should've stayed to talk to Tsireya."
Thanks to your awful hearing and tunnel-vision, you don't notice Fyìp yapping in your ear. Only when it slaps you on the shoulder–it was a small animal, hardly hurt–do you pay attention to it.
"What?" You whine, now rubbing your shoulder.
Fyìp points forward vigorously, pulling its tentacle forwafd and back repeatedly.
"It'll be so embarrassing."
It crosses its arms in front of itself like a no. Even though you're sure it will be, Fyìp's insistence reminds you of your promise to Neteyam. It wasn't broken just yet.
"Okay, fine."
At your affirmation, Fyìp drops back into the water. You follow suit.
☾⋆☆⋆☽
Learning a new language, later in your life, was always hard. Although, Jake Sully was the only one in his family with that experience.
"Lo'ak, why are you home early?" Jake and Neytiri rush over to him, sitting down as he does.
"Sign language is so hard." Lo'ak groans, his head down.
"Learning another language is hard," Jake affirms, putting a reassuring hand on his son's shoulder. "but it's like everything else. With practice, you'll get the hang of it."
"At first, he was terrible at Na'vi too." Neytiri grins, causing Jake to roll his eyes.
"Yes, and I became better." He gives her a pointed look, to which she only replies by baring her fangs playfully.
"Well, it's more than that." Lo'ak frowns, looking down at his hands, the very reason he was so different. "I have five fingers! Everyone else has four. Whenever there's a sign that requires fingers, everyone stares at me and Kiri. Their looks are so blank, but I can tell what they're thinking."
"So why didn't you say something?" Jake asks. "It's unlike you to not do anything."
It was a good question that left him silent as he thought. He didn't really know the answer, not as he dug through the surface of his mind. As he searched deeper, he found an answer, but he didn't really want to believe it. "It's because... Tsireya and (y/n) were there."
"And..?" Neytiri prods for him to continue.
"I don't want to disappoint them..." Lo'ak purses his lips, "or be a burden to them."
"Son," Jake places his hands on both Lo'ak's shoulders, causing him to finally look up at him. Jake wanted to be sure that Lo'ak understood the sentiment behind his words. "you're only learning. You can't disappoint them. And if they get upset at you, then that's their fault because they do not understand you and who you are."
"Next time," Neytiri speaks up, catching their attention, "make an arrangement. Find a way to work around it. Alright?"
Lo'ak nods, "Okay."
☾⋆☆⋆☽
Usually, you were the one sought out within the Metkayina if they ever needed you because you were always doing something in the ocean. The sea was vast and cluttered, from seawall terrace to the shore, it was all within the realm of possibility of where you were.
But, for once, you're seeking someone out.
"Kiri!" You call, "I was looking for you."
She emerges from the ocean, ringing the water out of her hair. Too caught up in the sights and feeling Eywa in the sea, she had missed dinner. You could relate to that, so you had to make sure she was taking care of herself.
"What is it?" Kiri asks, treading carefully on her words.
"I saved you some dinner." You hand her a leaf dish of fish.
"Oh." Only once she sees the food does she remember her growling stomach and hunger. "Thank you." She takes the leaf from you gingerly but begins to scarf it down once it's in her own hands.
"It's no problem." You begin, "Sometimes I accidentally skip dinner too. I know the feeling of great hunger in the morning."
Kiri nods in understanding.
"Make sure to get the water out of your ears." You enthusiastically demonstrate by tipping your head to the side and tapping the side of it. "You don't want to end up like me."
Kiri almost chokes on her food. She coughs and puts it on the sand temporarily. "Like you?"
"You know," She doesn't know how you can retain a smile like this. "bad hearing and all."
Ever since you'd lost the majority of your hearing, the adults started using you as an example of what not to do. Not only did they advice the young ones while using your example, they also advised your peers. At first, it was embarrassing, but you began to understand why you were an example and had long since grown used to the embarrassment it brought.
"(y/n), are you using yourself as an example?"
"What?" You tease, "Wanna end up like me?"
"No, (y/n), that's not what I mean." She takes both your hands in hers. "You shouldn't be using yourself as an example of what happens if you don't take care of yourself."
"Why not?" It was pretty normal to you now. You purse your lips, "Everyone uses me as an example. I am what happens if you don't–"
"Because," Kiri breathes out in disbelief, "you're more than an example. You're your own person. You're more than your past mistakes."
"You're right," You snicker at the thought, "just like last time."
"I'm just saying what has to be said." She reassures, rubbing her thumbs over the back of your hands, "Value yourself more."
☾⋆☆⋆☽
The trend of you seeking other people out, when it'd always been the opposite before, followed along for Lo'ak.
After your sign language lessons, you retreated into the ocean to clear your thoughts. Now that you had what you were looking for, you had to find Lo'ak, which thankfully doesn't take long.
"Lo'ak!" You call as your eyes find him.
He himself seemed to be searching for you too, so when he sees you, his eyes brighten. He covers the ground between you two quickly. "Hey, I was just looking for you."
"Me too. Do you wanna go first?"
He nods, "I found out a way we can work around my fingers."
"Your fingers?" You tilt your head forward.
"Yeah." He shows them off, wiggling all five for you.
"What about them?"
"Oh," He realizes the question wasn't because you'd somehow forgotten how many he had, but because you hadn't heard the rest of his sentence. He speaks with his mouth wider for you, "I found a way to work around them."
"That's what I was trying to find you for, actually." You snicker, "I found a way to work with them."
"With them?" He hadn't thought it possible.
"Yep." You grin, "Oh, but you were going first. Go on."
"Right, um," Lo'ak lifts one of his hands with the other, up to your view, then he pulls his last finger down. "I was thinking we could tie down my pinkie."
"Your pinkie?"
"My last finger, the smallest, it's called the pinkie."
"Okay, right." You nod.
"Tie it down with like a, um," He snaps his fingers while he thinks. "rope or something until I learn to stop using it."
After hearing his thought, you burst out laughing. It leaves Lo'ak confused. He stands there awkwardly, arms falling down to his sides with a building shame because he can't understand what you were laughing at.
"Sorry, um," You shake your head to wipe the laughter from your face, "that's too cruel, Lo'ak."
"Cruel?" He asks, eyebrows furrowed.
"Yeah, don't you think? It's just like what your sister taught me. We shouldn't take things against their will." You hold his hand to bring it back between the two of you and press his pinkie down against his palm. The force you put on his knuckle and the position is rather uncomfortable for Lo'ak, and it shows in his face. "See?"
"Yeah, you're right." He mutters, then realizes his mistake. "Sorry, I mean, you're right." He enunciates louder and clearer. "Just that... I couldn't really find any other way."
"Well, I was thinking we could just use your middle fingers as a unit." You bring his pinkie back up and press your fingers on his middle fingers, "What do you call them?"
"This is the middle finger," He wiggles it and specifically avoids accidentally showing it off to you, even if you probably don't know what it means. "and this is the ring finger."
"Okay." You nod, understanding quickly. Then, you press your fingers against the ring's left and the middle's right and hold them together. "We can consider these as my middle finger."
You hold your hand up next to his, pulling your other fingers down to show him the middle. He almost laughs and tells you the meaning, but decides it's funnier if you don't know.
"Say, "happen" for example." You use his hand as if it were your own, as yours was holding it, and press the side of yourd against it. Then, you bring it to the side quickly whilst pushing your fingers wide apart. "To mimic my middle finger, you can use your middle and ring fingers together."
"But... wouldn't it be confusing?" Lo'ak argues, looking up into your eyes.
You turn away from him, biting your lip, "Much the same as you're... accommodating for me by learning sign language, we must accommodate for you too. It's only right."
"Accommodate..." He hated that word, and clearly, you were just as ashamed to use it. It had been used all throughout your lives because of your particularities. "Let's not say that."
You turn back up to him, a glimmer of hope within your eyes. "What do you mean?"
"Let's not say we're accommodating for our differences." He turns his hand, the one that rested upon your palm, and uses it to hold yours reassuringly. "Let's just say that we're doing this for each other."
He loves the way your face lights up with a smile. "That sounds good."
☾⋆☆⋆☽
Thanks to Tsireya's efforts, the Sully's had learned the ways of the Metkayina.
They were still different, they were Omatikaya, and they and the Metkayina would always have their differences. However, despite their leaner bodies, they could catch up with you in the water; despite other physical differences like smaller lungs, they could stay underwater almost as long as you. They still preferred bow and arrow over spear and ikran over ilu.
Soon enough, they were good enough at free diving that they were allowed to perform their first Iknimaya trial, catching a small shell thrown into the sea.
Of course, it was the first because it was the easiest, the Metkayina completed it when they were young; but still, it called for a celebration.
Ronal denied a coming of age celebration. It was past the season for it, the tulkuns weren't home yet, and the Metkayina didn't know the Sully's enough for it to have any real sentiment.
It didn't matter to you, though. All they really wanted was a celebration with friends (which Ao'nung so gladly volunteered to not participate in).
You brought them into the sea for the celebration. For once, it wasn't a test of their breathing, speed, or swimming form. It was just exploring, enjoying the water; and they hadn't done that since they tamed their ilu.
As you dove into the sea, Fyìp swam to be near you. It seemed unbothered by the stares of awe he received.
Kiri grinned, signing to you, Fyìp ioang?
Yeah! Call him Fyìp now. You offer it a spot on your palm, which it accepts. You thrust your hand forward to show them all. He warmed up to me, forgave me.
Forgave you? Lo'ak signed. After your arrangement, he'd really gotten good at sign language.
Though the celebration was not meant to be a test, it was a great demonstration of how they were on their way to master sign language.
I believe I told you about the lesson Kiri taught me. I caught Fyìp to show it off to her, and she taught me I shouldn't have done so, even through all my curiosity. You nod at the thought, Wise words.
Kiri tucks a hair behind her ear, It just made sense to me. Not something wise or anything.
Sure. You huff out a laugh, then turn around to swim further in. Fyìp clings onto your shoulder.
The sights were already amazing. The Sully's were no longer limited by depth or obstacles now that they knew the way of water, so now they could see everything the sea had to offer.
You turn back to them again with an offer, You guys wanna see one of my favorite places? Knowing that they'll definitely agree, you turn back around and start leading the way.
It doesn't take long before you are standing before a marvel.
It was a cove of coral, fish, and many more ocean creatures. They were all colorful and eye-catching, but the main attraction was the ilu. It was similar to the Banshee Rookery in the Ayram alusìng.
We don't always tame ilu bred from other ilu at the village. Sometimes, we come here, though rarely. You explain.
These ilu were wilder, more aloof, but they still retained their friendly nature with the Na'vi. So long as you do not anger them, we can hang out with them.
The Sully's were practically let loose around the area. As you already knew much of it, you laid down on a rock at the heart of it and simply watched. Fyìp stuck around you, catching stray fish for dinner.
Kiri easily communicated with the ilu. Even if they were already friendly, they seemed even warmer with her.
Lo'ak managed to find the more playful ilu and had somehow gotten himself into a game of tag. He seemed to be one of the runners. He ducked behind coral, up and around rock arches. He was holding his own, despite the ilu naturally being much faster. Tsireya found herself watching too, and was laughing at Lo'ak's panicked face as he narrowly avoided being caught by an ilu.
As Lo'ak and Kiri both found their own things to do, it seemed Neteyam was stuck with Tuk. But she wasn't a burden to him. What kind of big brother would he be if she was?
He held her by the hand and admired some of the smaller creatures with her, although it seemed as though she had other intentions.
She escaped Neteyam's grasp and began swimming away with vigor. For a moment, Neteyam panicked, rushing after her with alarm. However, he soon relaxed once she saw she was going to you.
She waved hello adorably with a grin then signed. As the youngest, she had a bit more trouble with signing, but you understood her. Why do you like being in the water so much?
Well, it's very serene. You reply.
Neteyam caught up. He seemed interested too. Is that it?
You shrug, Sort of. There's some other reasons, but... You took in Tuk's hopeful eyes. She was far too cute to be denied. I could tell them to you.
Please? Will you? She swims closer, holding onto your wrists so that you may still sign.
Perhaps Tsireya rounded them up; otherwise, you have no idea why, as signing doesn't make sound, but they all round up around you. Even Fyìp swims closer.
It was a bit nerve-wracking, having all those eyes on you, but you had grown close to all of them. Nothing bad would come of it if you told them.
Okay.
Tuk's smile grows wider, she swims away so the others can see you too.
Ever since I was a kid, the ocean was so entrancing. It was majestic, a different world from the one above. The other kids my age, they preferred to play with one another. I preferred to explore the ocean. Even though I was hardly used to the world above, I still preferred exploring underwater.
Tsireya taught you that the sea gives and takes. While it gave me a world to love, it also took my hearing because I was negligent towards my ears. Eventually, the sea was more than just the world I loved. It was also the only place I could be normal.
Lo'ak and Kiri listen more carefully when you mention the word normal. It was something they both struggled with.
Everybody needs to sign to speak. You don't need your ears to listen to them, you only need your eyes; and my eyes, I still have. Underwater, I swim and speak and listen just like everyone else.
Tsireya swims closer, a frown on her face. She holds your elbow endearingly, You are just like everyone else.
Yeah, you are. Neteyam does the same, swimming closer. You are Na'vi.
We are Na'vi. Lo'ak signs.
Though we are all different, we are all Eywa's children. Kiri signs. It doesn't matter in what way we are different, my fingers, our blood, your hearing...
Lo'ak's eyebrows... Neteyam signs. Said eyebrows furrow at the teasing. Lo'ak retaliates by squeezing Neteyam's exposed neck, as his brother always does to him. Neteyam pushes him away.
You guys, you all understand. You smile, I'm so sorry that the Metkayina treat you differently.
Lo'ak shakes his head, If it is something we must teach them, we'll make them learn. He smiles, So long as we have great teachers like you and Tsireya to back us up, right?
You roll your eyes–he thinks it's endearing–at him but nod. We'll teach them that we're all the same.
Tomorrow will be a good day for that. Tsireya signs, Let's not forget we are celebrating your first Iknimaya trial.
Fyìp does an encouraging twirl that makes everyone smile.
To tomorrow. You sign.
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thelovelylolly · 1 year
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Comfort
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Summary: you go comfort Loki in the dungeons after Frigga's funeral. Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, mention of death, little argument but its itty bitty, reader is implied to be more fem and has similar abilities to loki, let me know if i missed anything :) Notes: in honor of loki season two coming out this week, here's loki content! i love him so much and this will probably get worse when the show comes out (I MEAN THOSE SHOTS OF HIM IN A SUIT????? YALL) also i wrote this with one of my ocs in mind, so sorry if there are any more specific details than usual :)
Loki watched as you glided down the dungeon stairs, making a gesture to the guards to put them at ease. You stopped in front of his cell, your body and usual outfit concealed by a black, mourning cloak. Loki could see dried tear streaks on your cheeks, but your expression was neutral.
“What are you doing here?” He spat, pacing slowly.
“I’m here to see if you’re okay,” you replied calmly.
Loki scoffed. “You come down here to comfort me instead of fighting against my father’s orders, like you always did, so I could mourn my mother with the rest of Asgard.”
“I did try, but Odin didn’t budge.”
“Well, you didn’t try hard enough.”
A tense moment of silence followed, then you turned to the guards. 
“Please let me into the prince’s cell,” you ordered in a calm voice.
The guards quickly obeyed and you stepped in, the cell closing you in with Loki. Then, you used your magic to shield the both of you from the rest of the world, casting an illusion to everyone outside the cell and sound proofing it.
“I know you’re frustrated-“
“Frustration can’t begin to describe what I’m feeling!” He exclaimed, causing you to flinch at his tone, but you quickly regained your composure.
“But you did this to yourself, Loki! You weren’t able to go to Frigga’s funeral because of your decisions and the consequences of them!” You paused to take a deep breath. “I was there when she died. I tried to defend her, but they were stronger than I am. I wish…I wish I took that blade instead of her, but I can’t change that, just like how I can’t change what you did and your punishment.”
Loki’s cold gaze softened a bit, his jaw clenching as he turned his back to you. “You don’t understand any of this, darling.”
“Maybe you forget that she was the closest thing I had to a mother. She is the reason I met you, that I allowed myself to fall for you. It’s because of her that we were allowed to court, Loki. I do understand this, I understand you.”
Loki didn’t answer, allowing you to keep going.
“The first night you spent down here, I went to Frigga. I needed to talk to someone about you, about my feelings, and I knew she would be there for me. After I talked things out, she told me she had hope for you. She wanted you to be better, and she wanted to free you from here as soon as she thought you had learned your lesson. She loved you, she wanted you and I to run away from Asgard to live our lives peacefully and happily. She…she wanted us to be married and start a family like we dreamed about. She wanted you, her son, to be happy.”
You saw Loki’s shoulders start to tremble as soft sobs escaped his lips. He quickly crumbled to the ground, his hands covering his face as he broke down into sobs. You quickly went around him and crouched in front of him, your cloak pooling around you two. Your arms wrapped around his neck and he hid his face in your shoulder, soaking the fabric of your cloak with his tears.
You held him tightly, running a hand through his hair comfortingly. You felt tears of your own start to form, but you blinked them away quickly. You had cried enough, now you needed to comfort your love.
After a few minutes like that, Loki pulled his face away and met your gaze. You cupped his cheeks and wiped away any stray tears. The sight of his bloodshot eyes and tear stained cheeks broke your heart.
“I love you, Loki,” you whispered softly, your voice shaking with emotion.
“I love you, too,” he replied just as quietly.
His hands fell to your waist, holding you close as he pressed his forehead to yours. You didn’t kiss, neither of you wanted to. You just wanted this. The quiet, the closeness, the vulnerability. Loki was scared to show this much emotion to you, even though you two were in love. He didn’t want to burden you or make you think he was weak. Maybe he did regret what he did, but only because he nearly lost you.
“Loki…” You said softly, trailing off as you slowly pulled away from him.
“I know,” he replied, letting you go.
You stood up and walked past Loki, who was still on his knees on the floor.
You stopped, looking over your shoulder. “My illusion will last for at least another hour. I will be back tomorrow.”
With that, you left the cell. Loki watched as you glided up the stairs, your cloak trailing behind as you disappeared and left him alone once again.
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eruminx · 1 year
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random phantom troupe headcanons / thoughts
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including: chrollo, shalnark, feitan, nobunaga, illumi, general phantom troupe
warnings: possible spoilers, nsfw, brief mention of torture, lightly proof-read
chrollo is really into astrology. when you think about his character it makes a lot of sense. chrollo believes in fate and destiny, and how we cannot change it. that’s why he’s so amused by characters like hisoka and gon, because they try to change their destiny. and one of astrology's main themes is destiny and fate. astrology gives people identities, something that chrollo is constantly looking for outside of himself. because he cant accept that he is himself. i would go more into the astrology topic, but i don’t know enough about it to get into great detail without sharing misinformation.
shalnark and feitan aren’t that different from each other. both are scarily sadistic it just manifests in different ways. shalnark is generally very friendly and one of the more outgoing phantom troupe members. he’s a nice dude, but he’s not kind. niceness is like a mask, it’s a common courtesy. kindness comes from the heart. i think the only genuinely kind member is nobunaga, but i’ll get into that later. shalnark is more of a psychological torture guy, while feitan is more into traditional torture.
okay back to nobunaga. i very much think that he is the only truly kind member of the troupe. (this headcanon is not based on how he was as a child by the way) i recently read a nobunaga analysis (here) and it only furthered my belief in this headcanon. simply the way he feels for others is very kind, and how he acted towards gon and uvo specifically. as well as some parts in the manga. he’s definitely very compassionate and understanding, especially compared to the other members. i think some of the other members are capable of kindness, but they wouldn’t be described as “kind”. two other members that come to mind are chrollo and pakunoda. they are both quite compassionate, as seen during their sentimental moments. (chrollo when reacting to members’ deaths and paku’s pre-death gun scene and her small interaction with the cat) but i wouldn’t call them “kind”, but instead more in-tune with their emotions. but, i think deep down inside all people are capable of kindness, so it can be hard to say.
illumi isn’t as clueless about love as the fandom makes him out to be. his only real reference for “love” is his parents, and they actually really love each other. knowing how kikyo is, she’s probably very doting with silva like she is with her children. and silva seems pretty compassionate as seen in his interactions with killua. silva also showed genuine concern for kikyo’s safety when killua threatened to kill her during the election arc. illumi has definitely learned from that, even if he doesn’t fully understand it. he wouldn’t be the best partner, but he’s more affectionate than he comes off. and i also firmly believe that he is not a virgin. i wouldn’t say he gets around like hisoka and chrollo, but he definitely has a few bodies. he’s human too, and he understands that he has human needs.
a good handful of the troupe members get around frequently. i read a headcanon saying some of the members have had sexual and romantic encounters with each other and I AGREE. i think the members who sleep around the most are (in order) hisoka (obviously), uvo, chrollo, and shalnark. maybe phinks but I think he’s so angry and intense because of how pent-up he is. i also think paku and nobunaga are the types to have intense flings with people every now and then… and they can last months. some members i think do not get around are machi, franklin, and feitan. they’re just not very interested and are too busy. i think shizuku is in the middle. i don’t think she’s a virgin and she has partners once in a while but she’s not actively pursuing sex. she just goes with the flow.
the troupe members dynamics are constantly changing. i feel like there’s very clear friend groups inside the troupe. like uvo, nobu, and shalnark are a very clear group in my eyes. as well as phinks and feitan. i feel like chrollo and pakunoda are a part of their little group together. i think the others are more loner types, but the original members still all share a special bond. member-to-member conflict happens a lot in the troupe, you can see this with nobunaga and some of his interactions with franklin and machi. I don’t think anyone dislikes each other (not including hisoka) but tension is common.
anyways... thank you for reading! this is my first post in forever lol (i’m a bit embarrassed….tbh lol)
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galvanizedfriend · 10 months
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what are your top ten favorite klaroline fics?
Hello, nonnie! I see your asks have made the rounds. Really nice to see lots of rec lists circulating!
I had to give this a thought. It's very hard to come up with just 10. I could easily do a part II. 😂 But without further ado, and in no particular order, 10 of my favorite KC fics:
. The Parisian Deal by Borzoi
I honestly vary between The Parisian Deal and Paradise Lost as my favorite Borzoi fics. It depends. I think I'm in my Parisian Deal era, though. I've recced this a few times over the last few months, whenever someone's asked me for my favorites or humanity-less Caroline fics. For me, this is the best one that comes to mind. Borzoi's fics are all brilliant. I love their writing style to bits. It reads like a novel, it draws in and it grips you by the throat until the very end. This one features Klaus being called to the rescue by a desperate Salvatore clan when Caroline turns off her humanity and fucks off to Europe. Unlike her friends, Klaus doesn't threaten her, doesn't try to force her to feel; instead, he offers her a deal. And it's perfect. I love this story with my whole heart, I can't even tell you.
. In the Backseat by Lila2
After leaving Hayley as a wolf in the Bayou and earning the hatred of his entire family, Klaus shows up with baby Hope on Caroline's doorstop. He has no idea what to do with a baby, is too proud to apologize and is in desperate search of some validation, which invariably leads her back to her (just like in 5x11). Caroline is torn between being mad at him for having a baby with freaking Hayley, and also the fact that she loves kids and there's a part of her that resents him precisely because he gets to have them, when she never will. In her own way, Caroline puts him in his place and convinces him to make amends and go home, take Hope back to her mother - but only if she comes with him on the road trip. And boy, is it worth it. 🥰 It's a fic that has the baby as a catalyst for everything, at the center of everyone's woes in different ways, but it's not about the baby, in case you're a baby fic hater. And the writing is just chef's kiss.
. the birth and death of the day by @little-miss-sunny-daisy
For a good while there, this fic was my entire fandom personality. Whenever anyone gave me a second of their time, I'd preach about the birth and death of the day. I was obsessed. Kelly is a brilliant writer, so, so, so talented. I am not kidding when I saw I wish I could write like her. And the greatest proof of that is how this fic was everything to me, in spite of not being at all my cup of tea on the tin. I don't like Supernatural, I never watched more than two episodes, and the Klaroline bit here kind of takes on a secondary role to the end of the of the world. But it's such an intense and brilliant character study on Caroline that it had my whole heart from the start. Her relationship with her BROTHERS Dean and Sam is so heartfelt, and it exposes so much of who Caroline really is as a character. The plot is INSANE and AMAZING and HUGE and it's so incredible how it ties in so seamlessly with the Mystic Falls shenanigans. And then there is Klaus! When I saw secondary, I don't mean irrelevant. I just mean there's more to the story than just their relationship. But it is still brilliantly developed. Honestly, just writing about it brings me back memories. I love it so much.
. Quiet Light by @definedareasofuncertainty
I am biased when it comes to Luiza's fics because I'm a fangirl and I have been one since day one, before we even became friends. But in the years (years 🥲 we have been here so long, friend) we have known each other, her writing has only gotten better and better. It's atmospheric and understated and it has this mindfulness about it that I can't really explain. It really feels like being in the characters' stream of thinking, you get instantly pulled into it. It evokes emotions without it ever having to be minutely described, and I think that's such an incredible talent. I wish I could write like this! And Quite Light not only brings all of those things forward, but it also brings COMPLEXITIES and MORAL QUARRELLS and it was also WRITTEN FOR ME. 😌✨ Luiza thought she was getting revenge on me by torturing Elijah, but LITTLE DID SHE KNOW I actually loved it. I went into this thinking it would be just a rom-com style story (which I love), but it's so much more. By the end I was crying real tears. 🥲 It becomes such a beautiful story about the relationship between Klaus and Elijah. Honestly brilliant.
. light years by @definedareasofuncertainty
Honestly, this fic has a very specific target audience, and that target audience is ME. I'm not even exaggerating; this is one my favorite pieces of fic ever written in the KC fandom. The way a Klarolijah fic speaks to me can be so personal. 🥺 I love the Klarolijah dynamic. I really do. But it takes a very specific balance for me to feel it. It can very easily go from me loving it, to me wanting to throttle someone. And this! THIS!! This is absolutely it. 🥲 And it's just about my favorite thing ever. This is actually three mini drabbles combined into one. Each of them is written through a different POV - Klaus', Elijah's and Caroline's. And the combination of all three, the way they tell the same story through different eyes, is just !!!!!!!!! Honestly, I don't have words. This has ✨Yokan my beloved✨ written all over it and I feel it very much. Luiza has a ridiculous talent for writing things on the spot. She got prompted to write an Elijah piece, and then a Caroline piece, and then a Klaus one, and she wrote them all in like 30 minutes on one of her mini drabbles challenge, and OH MY FUCKING GOD. I hate her for how good she is. 😭 (I don't, I love her, but I also v much envy her talent).
. this is a harvest by @highgaarden
I spent a solid few minutes here thinking about which of Hannah's fics I wanted to list, because she has this huge catalogue and I've basically read all of them and have gushed over almost every single one over the years. But even though there are others that could easily be in my top 10, I always end of going back to This is a Harvest. I remember when I first read it, I closed the tab at the end and was just… Done. Not in a 'I can't stand this story/ship/fandom anymore', but in a 'this is the fic to end all fics' kind of way. And it's not so much about the style or the writing, which are both stunning, but the way the story is told. It's a canon divergence that spans over years and I felt it in my heart that this was where the story could've gone. The choices they could've made. The way Caroline's story could and should have ended. And I was satisfied. I started writing and reading KC fanfiction after TO was over because I was so indignant about the way the show ended, so unhappy that I needed to give it my own spin, and read other folks doing the same, and when I read this story I felt like I had achieved that. This is it, I can put this to rest.
Obviously, I was way too deep by then that I couldn't really abandon the fandom (even though, just between us here, I kind of wish I could), but for a whole week or two, I was at peace. This fic gave me peace. That's it.
. Into the Woods by @jinxedwood
"But Yokan, how would you like to see Klaus' part in Legacies play out?" Like this. Exactly like this. This story accepts the finale we were dealt in The Originals, and then makes something absolutely amazing with it. I love the premise, I love the mythology involved, I love how unique this take is, and I love how even though it's poignant and bittersweet, it still packs up everything about Kc that made me love this ship so much. Caroline has been in Europe for years trying to find a way to help her daughters with their Gemini situation, and then she ends up stumbling across something else entirely. While she thought the thing she most wanted to see on a brief stint on the Other Side would be Gemini witches, her heart betrays her by taking her to who she really misses the most.
. it takes a while to settle down by theviolonist
This story is so old school it was written before Steroline. It's about Tyler. But we all know who Caroline ends up marrying, so in my heart, this is really what happens before Caroline marries Stefan. And honestly, it works just as well. This story is a punch to your stomach, but it is PERFECTION in 8k words. It's hot, it's bittersweet, it's SO in character. Caroline's denial, telling herself that Klaus is there to see her because he still ones revenge on Tyler, when it becomes very obvious, very fast, as it always does on the show, that it's never about Tyler, it's all about her. UGH. Honestly, brilliant. (third fic on this list with a The National reference on the title, I SENSE A PATTERN).
. As One Wishes to Live by @lalainajanes
I had never in my life read a genie!AU, and simply could not wrap my mind around anything of the sort that wouldn't be extreme crack!fic. Imagine my surprise upon reading this story. It's bittersweet in the best possible way. At the same time it's endearing and adorable (and so very IC) to watch Caroline fumbling for a fair and non-insane way to handle Klaus, the genie Katherine accidentally gifted her with (and who just happens to look incredibly alluring), it's so very poignant to read Klaus' POV. He's Klaus in the way that he's suspicious and dismissive and kind of snobbish, really, but he's resigned to his fate. This is a Klaus who has been broken by years of enslavement as this prop who's there exclusively to serve others. Every time he mentions one of his past masters, you just get that stab - and so does Caroline. Laine is one of the most prolific and talented KC writers ever, and I have read and enjoyed so, so many of her fics, but this definitely has a special place in my heart.
. Psychedelic Kicks by @notalittlebutalottie
This is an ensemble story that has Klaroline at heart, but that gives every other character a moment to shine. And shine they do! Everyone gets their own side stories, and absolutely loved following every single one of them. Lottie made me care for characters I hate in canon, like Katherine and Kol. Even Stefan and Elena had my heart here. This fic is a journey, full of ups and downs, and it has such a satisfying end. It's also incredibly original in its setting and tone, which I think it's one of Lottie's greatest talents. It's very are for historical fics to be set in the 60s, and not only did Lottie choose this very particular time, but she also did such a remarkable job incorporating the decades' aspects into the story. Not just the fashion, and the music, and Woodstocky vibes, but the social and political unrest as well. This is a story with LAYERS, my friends, and it's incredible. I could totally see this being a TV show or a movie tbh. It's that good.
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merakiui · 1 year
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thinking about a concept in which floyd is a human who works at a fish shop.
he has an affinity for music; it’s real, raw talent, and though he’s gotten lots of praise and won awards at talent shows when he was younger no one’s ever told him he should pursue it. so instead he works at his father’s fish shop, becoming acquainted with the scents of gore, chum, and the salty sea air. his brother jade’s super smart; they all think he’ll run a business in the future. something stuffy and corporate; floyd doesn't really care. because of his intelligence and academic prowess, jade’s earned a full scholarship to some fancy school off the island, way in the heart of the big city, and he’d be a fool not to take this opportunity.
jade almost turned it down; he likes the island and its population of older folk. things are calm and quiet here, flowing smoothly, everything in order. a city is nothing like that. most of all, his family are here. in the city he’ll be all alone, but mama and pops want him to go; it’s a big deal. they have a send-off party. jade rarely sheds tears, so this is one of the few times his sharp, smart eyes are watery. floyd’s happy for him, of course, but after the lanterns have been extinguished and the citronella candles have burned out he feels alone. the lively energy has fizzled away and with it his spirits. everyone’s gone to sleep because tomorrow they’ll see jade off at the port. he can hardly sleep when his heart is so heavy, bogged down with unpleasant emotions.
he doesn’t want to see jade off the next day, too stubborn and sad and jealous, but he does anyway because he knows it’d be wrong to leave his twin hanging when he’s about to embark on a trip to some far-off city. his mood is at its lowest as the day wears on. he doesn’t bother opening the shop. his pops will wring him out for neglecting the very thing that was passed down to him the moment he was old enough to handle the business, and his mama will fawn all over him, cooing at her husband to ease up on her baby boy. floyd loves the coddling. he loves his family, could never hate them no matter how hard his old man is on him. it’s a routine he’s familiar with. his parents balance one another, a perfect pair. he adores them.
it’s weird working at the shop without jade. usually floyd opens bright and early while jade turns his alarm off at every ten minute interval, clinging to his bedsheets until he can no longer avoid the glaring sunshine and the call of work. it’s too quiet and peaceful. floyd’s still in a mean mood, so by lunch his mama’s come down to bring him a meal and send him off. she’ll take care of the shop. floyd doesn’t complain.
he walks down to the beach, kicking up sand as he goes, drumming a tune along the metal tin packed full of a delicious homemade meal. it’s the one he took with him to elementary—the one with the moray eels printed on the front, and the graphic is peeling from years of use, dented and worn to fading. he likes the metallic sound it makes as he composes various beats at random, hitting it sharply, timing each knock, and then trying to hum along to the metallic melody. he and jade would visit the shoreline all the time as kids, spending hours in the water until they were tanned or burnt. lobsters, the both of you, their pops would tease when they came home, redder than the reddest lobster. and then there was the day floyd almost drowned. fun times. he thinks about it as he walks sidelong the sea, listening to the whooshing of the waves as they curl in the distance, the shrieking seabirds, the buzzing cicadas. summer’s awfully lonely this time around.
but then he hears it. the wet plap of something. he thinks it might’ve been a fish. maybe a bird overhead let it fall from its beak and it’s splattered upon the rocks below. but then he hears it again, and it’s accompanied with a sound that can only be described as gratingly ear-bleeding—like nails on a chalkboard. his humming stops and so, too, does the noise. he waits a minute, taps a rhythm on his lunchbox, and the noise starts up again. he repeats this twice before it occurs to him that something’s trying to duet with him.
he follows the noise even though it’s the most brutal, agonizing pain in his ears, and stumbles upon a shallow inlet that leads into a small cove. draped on a rock, scales shimmering in the sun, is a creature he’s only ever read about in storybooks. it’s a mermaid.
you open your mouth to sing, and that ear-piercing noise has him cringing.
not a mermaid. more like…a siren. a siren who can’t sing. what are the odds?
“yikes,” he says it in one breath, like it’s been punched out of him. “your singing sucks!”
maybe you understood him because your scowl is fierce and angry. he giggles and peers at your gills, curiosity overpowering self-preservation.
“hey, it’s the truth.” he dodges the water you send his way, his lips widening into a toothy grin as he watches your tail fin smack the sand impatiently. “anyone ever told ya that? or did you keep singin’ thinkin’ it was pretty, little tone-deaf fishy?”
this time the noise you make is akin to displeasure. floyd chuckles.
“so singing’s not your forte. no biggie.” he shakes his lunchbox and your eyes are immediately drawn to it. “but maybe playin’ an instrument is.”
and that marks the day floyd met a siren who can’t sing. suddenly, summer doesn’t feel so isolating anymore.
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zivazivc · 4 months
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Yesterday I watched Help! I'm A Fish and I had a good time! Chuck's seriousness and Fly's upbeat attitude made me think of Eddy M and Ravin respectively.
That movie is SO bizarre. I showed it to a friend a couple of weeks ago, so I watched it twice now, and we both kept screaming at all the emotional whiplash scenes jfksjhfdjh
I think I see what you mean about Eddy M and Ravin being like Chuck and Fly. Especially in the context of your headcanon where they had a rough childhood. They're not much like those characters in my version though.
Eddy M is a rude moody teen who is very matter-of-fact and headstrong - he's a 13-year-old who thinks he knows everything, and he will let you know that with sassy remarks and comebacks.
Ravin is definitely upbeat and more positive but I wouldn't call her Eddy's opposite because she is equally a smartass. She is just very jokey, self-aware nerd face emoji about it. She'll go "errrrmm, ACTually ☝" whenever she thinks she's right about something or when she just wants to annoy you. That's a good descriptor actually; instead of being rude the normal teenage way like Eddy, she is annoying - intentionally. It's a bit and she fully commits.
Dunno how to better describe them lol
Since I know you'll appreciate, I'm sharing a small chunk of my "Floyd runs into the techno troll and their kids" wip under the cut. It's been sitting and collecting dust for a while now because I have no idea how to finish it, but you can get a bit of an idea of what I imagine these two kids being like:
(for context, Floyd is helping Bruce at the bar and guess who happens to visit? And Floyd goes to take an order from them because he is a dumbass and needs too long to realize who he's talking to... The techno troll and Floyd have a private talk, it goes poorly and the techno troll lets him know that he doesn't want him to meet the kids or let them know who he is, and then Floyd hides behind the bar going full blown emo mode... (Also this is an unfinished draft so there might be some klunky parts, idk, I don't feel like editing it rn but I'm also very self conscious about my writing in general so I need to point this out 😬))
. . .
Floyd felt an intense misery wash over him. He really was a fuck up.
He stared at his feet for who knows how long (Maybe he had begun to dissociate?) when the faint sound of light feet stopping nearby made him look up.
Couldn’t this family gathering end already???
He nearly choked on his saliva while standing up in a desperate attempt to find something to busy himself with and not deal with this.
“Uh, h-hi, random kids I don’t know.”
He gave up at the sight of the empty sink with nothing to wash, and carefully looked at the two kids like they were going to bite him from any sudden movements. He probably shouldn’t stare too hard but that was what he ended up doing while taking in their appearance.
“How dumb do you think we are?” the boy—Edwin said with the distinct attitude and mannerism of a brash teen.
“From one to ten,” Ravin added quickly after and much more cheerily, while she pulled a small journal from her hair. She clicked her gel pen and pressed it against the paper in preparation. “Be honest.”
Floyd was a bit dumbfounded to be honest. “... What?” He straightened a little where he was still leaning against the sink and not facing them fully.
“Is on the slower side…” Ravin said out loud while scribbling the words down.
“We have to do this fast,” Edwin explained impatiently and with uncanny matter-of-fact-ness. “Dads think we went to the bathroom.”
“Uh… Do what fast?”
Ravin spoke up while staring at her journal: “How would you describe yourself?”
“What’s your favorite song?” asked Edwin.
"Would you say your hair is white and pink or white and red? And since when is it white? Dad never mentioned that."
“Do you think the words ‘drug addict hobo’ accurately describe you?”
“What’s better, hardcore or emo?”
“I told you it’s not emo!”
"Do you have any health history we should be aware of?" 
“If you were a bug, what type of bug would you be?
"Do we have any other siblings?" 
Floyd’s eyes grew wide from the onslaught of questions. “Whoa, whoa, slow down!” Then reluctantly he added “One at a time, please.” without even realizing he invited them into a conversation.
Edwin looked at his sister. “What was the first one?”
“How would you describe yourself? Three words.”
Floyd didn’t like the first question.
He should probably try thinking of positives…
“Uh…”
“Uhm…”
Panic.
“I’m a good singer. Well, I used to be…”
“That’s your personality?" Edwin deadpanned. "Singing?”
“I’ll just write down: bad self-image, bad under pressure, bad at understanding questions.”
"Those aren't personality traits either, sis."
"Fine! Unconfident, anti-equanimous, intelligently-impaired. There."
"Next question?"
“What’s your favorite song?”
Floyd's mouth was hanging open. He was pretty sure he just got called an insecure some-big-word idiot.
"Hello? We have a time limit. What's your favorite song?" 
“...T-That’s a hard question," he fumbled for words, "there’s so many songs, it would be impossible to choose.”
Ravin looked into her notepad with a sigh and jotted down: “Indecisive. Gives flakey vibes.”
Floyd didn’t know how to respond to that either. Would it be weird if he got upset? Because he was definitely offended. But then again maybe he deserved this. Like some kind of delayed karma.
“If you were a bug, what type of bug would you be?”
Floyd thought about it, trying to come up with some type of direct answer at least for this question. “Hmm… A grig, maybe?”
Edwin made a face. “What the heck is a grig?”
Ravin seemed to have an idea. She wrote down: “An old soul. Depressed.”
“That’s the opposite of a grig!”
“Have you heard of reverse self-awareness?”
“No…?”
“Probably ‘cause I just made it up. But the term kinda suits you." She scratched her scalp with the dull end of her pen."I think?”
Floyd, still feeling absolutely lost in the whole situation, continued to stare mutely.
Edwin was watching him judgingly. "You think there's any awareness there at all?"
Ravin gave a vague hum before getting back on track. "What do you do for a living?" 
"Rae, don't waste our time with stupid questions. It's obvious what he does."
Maybe, Floyd thought, he could finally impress them with something. "I'm a musician, actually."
"Yeah okay, music boy." Edwin replied without missing a beat. "Is the apron a new fashion accessory I don't know about?" 
Floyd’s mouth hung open (if it ever even stopped hanging). These kids were savage…
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Nova’s Notes - Dracula Daily - May 25 + 26
The Suitor Squad speaks!!! Ahhh love them <3
Checking in with my favorite wet cat man, Seward is….not doing too well. Let’s listen to his podcast, shall we?
“Ebb tide in appetite to-day. Cannot eat, cannot rest, so diary instead. Since my rebuff of yesterday I have a sort of empty feeling; nothing in the world seems of sufficient importance to be worth the doing…”
Awwww John :(((( to quote Zuko, “That’s rough, buddy.”
Notice how he speaks here. Of course, beside the obvious abruptness and the fall in his appetite today, he also uses the word “rebuff” to describe Lucy’s rejection. Not to Merriam-Webster you, but I wanted to give a quick definition of rebuff because it actually surprised me when I read it:
“an abrupt or ungracious refusal or rejection of an offer, request, or friendly gesture.”
As expected, John is taking this pretty hard because to call Lucy’s rejection of him “abrupt” or “ungracious” is just…untrue? To be fair, we only had Lucy’s side of the story, but that just doesn’t sound like Lucy. I mean, she literally *cried* at the thought of causing him pain!! I’m not trying to police his words here — obviously, it’s his mental breakdown diary and he gets to choose the language — but it does show that he’s not taking this half so well as Quincey (probably) is, and Lucy totally read the vibes right when she worried about him walking away from this broken-hearted. Bro is in the trenches here.
Soooooo he turns to his work at the asylum for help. He really needs to get some better coping mechanisms, but at least we get to meet Renfield!
“In my manner of doing it there was, I now see, something of cruelty. I seemed to wish to keep him to the point of his madness—a thing which I avoid with the patients as I would the mouth of hell. [paragraph break] (Mem., under what circumstances would I not avoid the pit of hell?) Omnia Romæ venalia sunt. Hell has its price! verb. sap”
One thing I love about Dracula is that all of these characters have their own little quirks when talking. Stoker does a fairly good job of giving each character a unique “voice”, which I appreciate. Jonathan writes in a fairly meticulous way with long paragraphs of describing landscapes (plus, “lizard fashion”, of course). Mina writes in much the same way, but different. She seems to break into a more playful style of writing, as you can see with her “???” and “two-pages-to-the-week-with-Sunday-squeezed-in-a-corner-diaries”. Lucy, of course, probably has the most unique voice so far because her letters seem to be written impulsively. In one sentence, she laments how miserable Seward and Quincey are and in the next she celebrates how perfectly happy she is. It’s an active and emotional stream of consciousness we get to see unfold in her letters and — I’ll bet — in the way she talks.
Seward is a new voice and he already is showing a few quirks here. It’s interesting to see how this voice changes since we know he’s actually *speaking* these words, not just writing them down. Unethical behavior with Renfield aside (stop baiting the patients Seward!!!!), notice how he makes a mem. for a rhetorical question.
I find this fascinating because Jonathan does this mem., or memorandum, when he wants to remember something — such as recipes for Mina. But Seward does it when he wants to self-depreciate his own phrasing. Unless, he’s seriously asking the question to remember for later, which he might honestly be due to his next sentences (and in that case, oooooh buddy you’re going to be regretting asking that in a few months). He hits us with a Latin phrase which translates to (from what I could find), “All Rome is for sale” and then ANOTHER ONE which means “a word to the wise” or “enough said”.
What can we garner from this? Other than liking Latin, John likes self-deprecation and also philosophical thoughts about hell, or at least the metaphor of it — and that’s what he wants to save for later. Very interesting!!!
Describing Renfield (who’s 59, huh), I like how he touches on selfish vs. unselfish influences and how that affects humans. I find it interesting that, contrary to popular belief, being unselfish is what Seward would consider to be more dangerous — though it makes sense from his logic.
A selfish person would keep themselves close and be cautious about putting themselves in too much danger. After all, your life is not worth much if you put it at risk and that’s even more true in an asylum. Using “armor” and a “centripetal force” with self as the “fixed point” as metaphors for this kind of behavior is fascinating.
Meanwhile, someone “unselfish” or to put it a different way, acting under the influence of someone else for some unnamed reason (duty, love, etc.) will likely stop at nothing to achieve that goal once they’re put on it. It’s also dangerous to another person because they might not know what that goal is — and might end up being collateral damage as a result. Seward is keen to find out what Renfield’s reasoning is because he doesn’t want to be that collateral damage (and because he’s a curious, semi-unethical doctor buutttt). I like how he adds that only a series of accidents can balance this kind of centripetal force. Thanks for the metaphorical science lessons, Seward!
On to Quincey, my beloved. <333 His letter is to Arthur!
“We've told yarns by the camp-fire in the prairies; and dressed one another's wounds after trying a landing at the Marquesas; and drunk healths on the shore of Titicaca.”
So from the opening lines, we can gather that Quincey and Arthur (and yes, Seward too) have been globetrotting together! Because Titicaca is in South America and the Marquesas happens to be a collective of islands in the Southern Pacific Ocean. Quincey later refers to Seward as their “old pal at the Korea” which *could* mean Korea the country, or as this forum comment section speculates, could also mean the Korea Strait.
It’s super sweet that while Quincey and John want to drown their sorrows in wine, Quincey doesn’t hesitate to invite Arthur to celebrate his engagement to the love of his life as well as theirs oof!
It does seem like Quincey didn’t know before that Arthur was the one Lucy was in love with, because he seemed to speak vaguely to Lucy that he “must be a good fellow if you loved him” and “he’ll have to deal with me if he doesn’t know his happiness”. But, to me, it seems a little too much like what you would say to your friend if you didn’t know the other person. I’m getting a generic “he’ll date you if he knows what’s good for him” vibe.
My guess? Arthur probably wrote to Quincey saying “I’m engaged!!! To Lucy!!!” because they do all know each other and are friends, but maybe Arthur hadn’t wanted to share his feelings with the boy group just yet (he seems like a private person, since Lucy couldn’t get a read on his feelings) or wanted to keep it a surprise until he knew for sure his feelings were reciprocated. Of course, once Quincey received this letter, he put together that “ohhhh Art was my rival the whole time” and probably slapped his knee about the whole thing. It doesn’t stop him from inviting him to the next gathering, though!
The other theory I have is that all three of them knew they loved Lucy and each amicably agreed to still be friends, no matter who she chose (if she chose any of them). It would definitely make sense since Quincey talks about him and Seward “mingling their weeps” as if Arthur would know what he means by that. Additionally, it would make sense, since they all know each other pretty well and likely would know if they all were in love with the same woman, right? That could be why Seward and Quincey were so quick to ask if there was someone else — I mean, yes, that’s always the obvious ask when your proposal fails — but this could add another layer of meaning to their asking.
As for Quincey’s generic approach, that could be explained by him not knowing whether it was Seward or Arthur that Lucy loved (or, perhaps, an unknown third person) and he didn’t want to ask Lucy who it was in that moment, figuring he would find out later if it was indeed one of his friends.
No matter the theory, this letter says a lot about Quincey’s character! He’s obviously a good and honest man for not hesitating to invite his friend to the gathering, even when that friend is engaged to the woman he’s in love with as well. There’s not a lot more to be said about this that hasn’t already been said — but yeah, Quincey is definitely in my top 3 favorite Dracula characters and this is part of why.
Finally, Art’s letter to Quincey!
“Count me in every time. I bear messages which will make both your ears tingle.”
As this is a telegram, he has to make this short and sweet. But make your ears tingle??? Art???? Lol, I’m presuming this is about the proposal or about some other hot gossip (if it’s explained later, I genuinely forgot — again, it’s been two years since I’ve read the book and I keep feeling more and more like a first time reader).
Either way, I hope this is the year we stop calling Arthur boring (if we haven’t already), because he already doesn’t sound boring from just this message and it’s in telegram format.
He sounds like a guy you’d like to party with. “Count me in every time”, “make your ears tingle”? Sounds like a party guy to me! And obviously, he had to be fun-loving and resourceful enough to Quincey if they’ve traveled the world together (and, maybe have seen combat? — not quite clear on that one).
I’ll definitely be keeping a close eye on Arthur this read around. Since I was among the people that called him boring in 2022, I want to see if there’s more to him than meets the eye!
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skylinesnsunshines · 5 months
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jackson wang and bibi reading: their povs and their energy together
hi everyone, im doing a reading on jackson and bibi! they recently dropped a collab and their chemistry has been off the charts, and i am just so curious on their dynamic and what they're like together. i hope you enjoy and let me know your thoughts!
personal readings
DISCLAIMER: this is all speculative and for entertainment purposes only, so take it with a grain of salt :)
(italicised is the card on the bottom of the tarot deck which is meant to represent the subconscious/blind spot of the situation + rx means reversed)
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HOW BIBI VIEWS JACKSON
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2 of pentacles, ace of cups, 4 of wands, knight of wands | spider, jupiter: grow and expand, femme fatale
basically to make a long story short bibi finds jackson very attractive and she sees him as a new love interest, ok done. LOL but no, she definitely is interested and does see potential for commitment in the future. she sees jackson as someone who has a talent for multitasking and sees him as someone who is very prosperous materially. she’s kind of amazed at how jackson manages to juggle multiple projects at once, while simultaneously having various stable income streams. she does notice that jackson is a really busy person and it's hard to get his full attention on something as he is constantly on the go. she does admire jackson's joy and positivity, and she finds it endearing that jackson isn't afraid to wear his heart on his sleeve. it's amusing to her that it's easy to read jackson's emotions, and that his empathy and compassion is rare to find. bibi does see jackson as an incredibly positive figure, and sees him as a sort of "husband figure". jackson seems to embody the traits that bibi looks for in a long-term partnership. when the rose-coloured glasses are off, bibi sees jackson as someone who could be quite impulsive and jump from one idea to another. although it’s clear that she sees potential in him, i think she’s still wary of the fact that jackson is quite hard to pin down. she does enjoy the thrill of the chase though, cause she sees jackson as someone incredibly charming, sexy and passionate. i get the feeling that jackson can easily sweep bibi off her feet, and she finds that very attractive.
the spider describes an ingenious creator who's hardworking and doesn't get impatient or tired. she's inspired by jackson's sense of creativity, as it seems that he gets inspired by many different things. bibi sees jackson as a mentor/teacher figure regarding artistry, and she finds him as a large source of inspiration. jackson also expands her views in life in general. she also sees him as someone with an abundance of resources and never lacking. now I find it interesting that jackson gets the femme fatale card, as usually men get the "don juan" card. this highlights the point that jackson evokes the erotic feminine energy, by that I mean he knows how to flirt to make someone go weak in the knees. jackson's flirting style can be said to be more gentle and he focuses on smaller gestures to remind the person that he constantly thinks of them.
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HOW JACKSON VIEWS BIBI
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4 of cups, 4 of pentacles, justice, queen of pentacles | eagle, house one: individuality, self-image and approach to life, mystic
okay so there are two interpretations that i've grasped from these cards. one is that jackson may be distracted at the moment and cannot see bibi for who she truly is. he could be distracted or overwhelmed with his projects to the point that he sees his relationship with bibi as strictly business or surface level. either that or, bibi could be acting very nonchalant and seem disinterested when she's with him. i see that as her way of flirting or showing interest (a paradox I know). she could be more introverted or closed off when she's with him. bibi could be someone who focuses on long-term goals instead of short-term plans. bibi could be very difficult to sway when it comes to her views, so jackson always looks to her to ask for opinions. jackson does see her as his equal, and finds that he has found his match as a partner (artistically). bibi's a libra which is the opposite of jackson's fiery aries so it makes sense that the justice card came up. jackson sees her as someone very straightforward and blunt, which is a good thing, but she could also be inflexible as whatever truth that she feels is right, is the only way to go. she has a very balanced and unbiased point of view, which is a trait that jackson admires. jackson sees bibi as a nurturing and practical figure, as it seems that she loves taking care of those around her. he's amazed at how she manages to take care of her loved ones materially, while also having enough for herself. jackson admires her devotion and honour to her family, as its a trait that he also has.
jackson admires bibi's individuality, and that she is unafraid to stand out from her peers. jackson feels bibi pushes him to be his best and encourages him to expand outside his comfort zone. i also feel that bibi is a very detailed individual, and jackson appreciates that cause he's more of a big picture type of person. i get reminded of the phrase that bibi puts dots and crosses on jackson's i's and t's. they work well together because of their differences. bibi's unafraid to challenge the status quo, and that in turn helps jackson have a stronger sense of self (as his libra moon is often swayed by others' opinions). bibi's individuality and approach to life is something that jackson loves to learn, as she is unafraid to stand in her own. i feel jackson could struggle to see bibi for who she truly is, as I think he sees her as this mystic being. he does see bibi as someone who is very spiritual and has a close relationship to the divine.
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THEIR ENERGY TOGETHER
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6 of cups, 5 of pentacles, king of swords, page of cups rx | i like you: someone likes you, romance is blooming, fun flirting, want to date, chemistry: there's a strong magnetic attraction here, just being near you is intoxicating
these two bring out feelings of nostalgia in one another, feels like those friends that you've just met but feel like you've known each other forever. their energy has a lot of innocence and joy, I envision them flirting like you would when you were a kid. i can see that when it comes to flirting, jackson expresses himself in a really gentle way and that bibi really feels like this connection makes her feel special. they bring out each others inner child and it feels like they can freely express their most vulnerable sides to each other. 5 of pentacles does tell me that one of them (i have a feeling its jackson) isn't fully invested in this relationship and its potential as his focus is currently still on his work. bibi could take note of this and feel isolated in this connection, as she feels jackson isn't fully invested or focused in this relationship. but, these two have bonded together because of their differences from the mainstream. i think jackson finds bibi's outspokenness very attractive, and bibi finds jackson's go-getter attitude intriguing. these two might feel alienated from their larger community, and seek refuge within one another. king of swords does tell me that these two love engaging in mentally stimulating conversations, but those conversations could lack in genuine emotion as one or both parties might struggle with expressing it. i think although these two have a lot of chemistry together, its still very surface level and hasn't reached the emotional depths as most relationships. i think bibi looks up to jackson and sees him as an authority figure, so there's a feeling of guilt or weariness when it comes to pursuing a relationship. one or both parties could be approaching this relationship through a very logical and rational standpoint, and denying or suppressing their feelings. i think both of them are not fully listening to their intuition and doubting themselves, I get the feeling of overthinking. they could be overthinking on how to interact with one another to not cause discord, which to be honest is quite normal for people who are starting to get to know each other. i do feel that due to this still being quite surface level, the emotions have no depth yet.
the first oracle card FLEW out of the deck when i was shuffling 🤣 i do have a feeling bibi flirts more obviously to jackson than vice versa, purely because i think jackson doesn’t want to seem too intense from the get go. i think currently bibi sees jackson more as a romantic interest, but that can always change with time. they do mutually enjoy each others company and it's still in the early stages of romance. they're still taking time to get to know each other, but it does come off like this relationship isn't strictly work related. pretty obvious what the chemistry card means. i think these two are aware of the physical chemistry they have with one another, and also emotional chemistry. however, its important to note that chemistry alone won't be able to sustain a healthy relationship. these two are aware of their chemistry with one another, but are still doubting themselves due to where they are at in their career currently. over time as they get to know each other, they have the potential to be a couple though. but we'll see where this road leads.
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so that's it for the reading! let me know if you have any feedback, questions or requests! my askbox is always open for a chat as well <3 sending you love and light always :) hope you enjoyed!
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cowchickenbeefpork · 4 months
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look I’m not going to argue that Edward truly loved Kristen for who she was genuinely ( he didn’t ) but seeing him as someone who got over her death and it barely affected him is kinda a reading I can’t agree with at all
I know what scene started this reading it was the whole “actually I do enjoy hurting people this is my true self and I greatly thank Kristen for making me reach my potential” but that realization came from when he cut her up, no? When you go back to THAT SCENE he describes how the light vanishing from her eyes was beautiful. This means two things, one, he had to first known he was hurting her, and two he was enjoying that fact
WHEN YOU GO BACK TO THE SCENE WHERE HE KILLED HER THERES NO TRACE OF THIS IN THE ACTING THERE!!!!! He’s not even angry he’s more so desperate to explain himself, he even smiles as he tells her he loves her and would NEVER HURT HER! And when he realized he killed her he sobbed himself to the point of blacking out. Even if you brush off the fact riddler is very poorly written and just make it be ed the fact he blacked out and went out fucking around with her corpse while not remembering any of it and only hours later regained consciousness and now having to search around the gcpd to find her. Genuinely why should I believe a man, who consistently convinces himself he’s actually super smart and has no emotions is telling ME the truth here about his own feelings when I as the viewer have just witnessed things that contradict this!!!!
Also the show contradicts that whole motive like two episodes later!!!!!!!!!! When Oswald tried to kill Ed for saying his mother made him weak Edward discusses Kristen’s death and says love wasn’t meant for men like them and that it will always weaken them. Notice how different of a explaination that is to the one in the woods? The one in the woods basically says it was his true self leaking out and he actually had some awareness of what he was doing and he enjoyed every second of it and he feels no remorse. The one during this scene says that it was unavoidable, an accident, but actually him brushing over his feelings and forcing himself to not think about it or ever attempt to love again is the correct awnser. Doesn’t the second answer flow better with the actual death? It aligns exactly with both his narcissism making him unable to admit he was in the wrong and also unable to let him grieve since it would go against the idea he has of himself in his head and aligns with the fact it was a ACCIDENT WHERE HE DIDNT EVEN INTEND TO HURT HER AT ALL!!!
I can’t blame people for taking the whole actually I enjoyed it reasoning as the true one since Gotham is very very badly written but the reasoning he gave to Oswald works better for his character and for the event itself! The whole point of that death was you can hurt people without even trying to and not be able to see that ur acting like the people who have hurt them before it’s too late and that’s!!!! Powerful but Gotham just had to make Edward secretly evil and sadicist this whole time which takes away from that message. The first time he finally realizes Kristen was a person who existed outside of what he thought of and was capable of thinking and acting outside of his image of her was when she died, and he pushed her back into a fucking box, a fucking role she played to further him in his life because the mere horror of his actions were too hard to bare, he had to convince himself this would always happen and it was either of their flaunts to keep his ego intact.
not to mention how the whole denying he needs love in his life kinda relates heavily back to his npd too. Since he couldn’t get what he wants he feels terrible and then convinces himself that actually WHAT HE WANTED was the inadequate thing instead of him, so he doesn’t have to mourn the fact that he couldn’t have it. It’s projection in a way, he projects his inner wants and desires that he hates to others so he can mock them and feel better. He is telling himself he doesn’t need connection to others, that he can provide for himself and will never need or depend on anyone ever in his life again which is contradicted again and again in the show. He can’t stop needing people to like him, affirm him or to depend on them. That is the ultimate paradox with npd, narcissism in itself locks someone into a state of both being completely independent and not needing or caring for others while completely needing and depending on their praise so you can keep your self esteem intact
i think why I’m kinda quite against this reading of Edward as someone who intensely enjoys hurting others in his nature and is completely logical and almost unemotional in his action is because it kinda just falls into his lie he folds himself and others, it’s believing in the narcissist fantasy he has convinced himself and others around him to be true, he will never be that, no matter how hard he tries he will never be smart enough and unemotional enough for himself, he will chase proving that fantasy until he dies if he keeps doing this, taking anyone who comes in his way down with him
you can read Gotham Ed however you want idc I’m not ur mom and I’m not mad I just really wanted to explain myself since last time I tried to it was horrid and nonsensical I should’ve been executed on the spot. You can read Edward however you like I’m not thought police I just really needed to say my peace here
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lavendarl-ing · 2 years
Note
hi! i saw ur post just right now actually! can i request a mingyu x f!reader post breakup angst?
thank you! (sending you lots of love!) ❤️❤️❤️
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stars aligned, but only for a moment || k.mg
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pairing: mingyu x reader (not really), mingyu x unnamed side character
genre: angst
word count: 976
summary: you knew you were bound to cross paths again one day, but you were a fool to think you still stood a chance.
warning/s: lowercase intended, i'm not confident with the grammar, i'm still trying to find my writing style so this might look awkward 😅, reader is described as heavily career-oriented, honestly the plot is just sad
a/n: MY FIRST REQUEST!!! thank you thank you for requesting^^ i hope this is able to meet your expectations and i hope it can tug at readers' emotions too ~(>_<;~) feedback is very encouraged and appreciated!! enjoy,, 💗
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you caught his eye first.
sitting on the other side of the restaurant was you, chin on your hand as you poked at your salad, completely uninterested. 
'time treated you well,'  mingyu thought. you looked exactly how you did the first time he fell for you. only now, there seemed to be a more confident aura and glow to you. 'it looked good on you,' he thought.
you checked your phone for an update on your boss who had planned to meet you for dinner over talks of a promotion. deducing from the lack of response that she was still stuck in the meeting she had mentioned earlier, you put your phone down.
your eyes surfed over the surrounding customers, hoping to find something interesting to quell your boredom. they met him instead. 
'time treated him well,' you thought. his features matured, yet still retained the youthfulness from when you first met him. his hair's slightly longer length gave his sharp features a softer edge. his shoulders looked broader too, you could tell from afar. 'it suits him,' you thought.
all you offered was an awkward grin, unsure of what to do in this situation. you were grateful when you caught the corner of his lips curl up in a ghost of a smile, but the look on his face screams confusion. his eyebrows are furrowed and a question is written on his face: 'what are you doing here?'
your eyes remain locked and you were almost lured into standing up and walking over to him, perhaps hoping to catch up.
almost.
it wasn't until someone else—someone new—came into view, taking a seat across mingyu that he looked away from you.
you watched his expression morph into one of pure joy as he turned to them and you realized how long it had been since you last saw his dashing smile. his mouth moved and it was clear that he told them: "hi, love."
you used to be the regular receiver of that greeting... why did it sting now that it was directed at someone else?
mingyu conversed with the stranger (a stranger to you, at least) with the most endeared look on his face. he listened intently when they were speaking, his attention fully on them. the only time he took his eyes off of them was when his eyes flickered to his plate, his smile bashful. 
when he looked back up, his bottom lip was caught between his teeth to hide his fluster. you practically saw adoration oozing from his eyes. 
your heart clenched. he used to look at you like that.
then you felt the guilt creep up your spine.
you were the one that left him. it had been more than a year since the breakup and neither of you had any more promises left to fulfill.
what right did you have to feel upset?
mingyu never spared another glance in your direction for the rest of the night. you weren't deliberately spying on them but no matter what you did or how hard you tried, you still found yourself watching them from the corner of your eyes now and then.
you nearly missed the unmistakable glisten of gold on their ring fingers.
they looked happy, you observed. he was happy.
you distracted yourself with apps on your phone and munching on croutons and lettuce while waiting for your superior to show up.
you got stood up anyway. 
she sent you a text stating the meeting held her up and looked far from being adjourned before giving you the green light to leave. you didn't even have to stay as long as you did.
you did your best to look composed as you grabbed your belongings and headed to the reception area, opting to pay for the appetizer and wine you ordered there instead of waiting for a waiter to bring you the bill. 
you couldn't stand being in the restaurant any longer. you didn't even look back as you left.
getting into your car, you turned on the ignition but you didn't drive away. you just sat there, wondering: what was it you were feeling when you saw them?
jealousy? no, it's not like you wanted to be in their place—not like you necessarily wanted mingyu to be yours again.
you suppose it's regret. 
you gave up on a forever with mingyu so your career could prosper. he gave up on a forever with you because he wanted you to put yourself first. "it's okay to be selfish," was what he told you back then.
it was ultimately your choice to leave but you always had some underlying hope that one day you’d return and he would still choose you. then, you could finally allow yourself to settle down with him like he dreamed.
what if you had stayed?
but what was the point of pondering on your what ifs when it was already clear: you may have been a significant part of his life, but this new person would be the one to see it through. you only hoped they could love him fully the way he deserved—that they would stay with him until the end.
buried memories came rushing back—you thought back to the last time you saw each other before this evening. the day you left.
the day you were leaving, yet he still insisted on seeing you off.
"hypothetically, if our paths crossed again one day..." mingyu trailed off, looking anywhere but at you because he knew.
he knew that one last look at you would have him begging you to stay. 
"would i still have a chance with you?"
you could only smile.
"only time can tell."
tonight, time had finally given you its answer. 
he may still have a chance with you, but you've long lost yours with him.
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