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#good for them for making the best choices for their help
todorosie · 18 hours
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ERROR ERROR !! uh oh… looks like you’ve been playing too much boyfriend simulator. the game won’t let you quit! for kinktober 2024 you’ll have to play through different character paths to try and fuck fight your way to the credits. otherwise, you’ll be stuck in the game forever. what a nightmare!
here’s a taglist so that you can come back later. let’s get started on a new save file! … how many endings are there again?
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content warning. each day will have the appropriate tags for any triggers as well as a brief description of what is to come. please make sure to read those! xoxo sorin.
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OCTOBER 1ST — gojo satoru + voyeurism
the best friend path has exactly what the name suggests. this character has been friends with the protagonist since early childhood and has been secretly in love with them for years. honestly? he’s super easy to romance. but if you tease him for too long, he’ll grow impatient…
cw. masturbation, dubcon, riding, creampie, pining, possessive.
OCTOBER 5TH — geto suguru + dacryphilia
the player path has a saccharine sweet character who is charming and charismatic. he is kind and flirty with the protagonist, but it quickly becomes clear that he treats other people in the same way. romancing him is already difficult, but to get his secret ending you have to ignore all his red flags and trigger a confrontation scene. maybe some tears will help get the ball rolling…
cw. toxic relationship, tears, manipulation, mating press, arguing.
OCTOBER 10TH — fem!toji x sukuna + threesome
the tsundere path has the character that everyone loves in otome games and hates in real life. she is hostile towards the protagonist if they romance her boyfriend, telling them to leave him alone and often becoming increasingly insulting when they refuse. apparently there’s a secret route where you can romance her, too. according to the online guide, you have to go to the locker rooms at 5pm to catch them together…
cw. gender swap, degradation, fingering, nipple play, spanking.
OCTOBER 15TH — nanami kento x risky sex/food play
the introvert path has a love interest that is very stoic and can’t be expected to initiate a conversation, but will talk with the protagonist if they insist. some consider him boring but he’s very kind and often in his own head. it’s easy to catch him off guard by cornering him in the common room. right in time for lunch, too…
cw. public sex, almost caught, against the wall, teasing, praise.
OCTOBER 25TH — xavier x teacher/student + power play
the pathetic professor path is, to be blunt, very pathetic. the guy constantly struggles to look you in the eyes even during lectures. according to the wikipedia page, boyfriend simulator got into a lot of hot water for this romance route back in the early 2010s. thankfully, you aren’t afraid of a little taboo. besides, who really holds the power here?
cw. mommy kink, ass eating, blackmail, whining, he’s such a loser.
OCT 30TH + OCT 31ST — CHOOSE YOUR OWN PATH !
congrats! you’ve gone through the most prominent love interests in the game, it’s time to say goodbye to boyfriend simulator forever! based on your game choices did you get
THE GOOD ENDING or THE BAD ENDING
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moosesarecute · 2 days
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The Shadows Heal
A continuation of: “The Shadows Sing”
Previous part: The Shadows Love
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“It’s not as scary as it looks,” Azriel assured you as he led you into your room. His hand held yours.
It was technically his room, but you had been sleeping there every night since the attack and you didn’t think you’d ever go back to your old bedroom.
“Can you relax for me, love?”
“I am relaxed,” you answered.
Azriel raised his eyebrows and looked over to your shadows. They were swirling anxiously around you. You tried to calm them down, but you couldn’t.
“Hey,” Azriel spoke with his softest voice. He moved some hair away from your face. “I just want to make life better for you, but to do that, I need your help. Okay?”
You nodded. His smile warmed you.
“Let’s start.”
He led you to the bed and both of you sat down. His shadows brought him a pen and some paper.
He had explained his plans to you, but you were still very anxious. You didn’t want to seem ungrateful.
“Let’s start with living arrangements. Do you want to live here at the House or in your room in the library?”
You shifted uncomfortably. Of course you wanted to stay at the House of Wind, that’s where Azriel was. But they got you your own place in the library. What if they thought you didn’t appreciate that?
“Love, you shouldn’t overthink, just speak.”
His shadows had found their way to your hair and were brushing through it. Some of them were cuddling to your legs.
“Here, I would like to stay here,” your voice was shakier than you would have liked.
“Good,” Azriel wore a happy smile. “That’s where I want you too. Would you like your own room? Or would you like to stay here with me?”
You more than anything wanted to stay in Azriel’s room. You have had the best nights of your life sleeping beside your mate.
But you didn’t want to be too eager. What if he found it uncomfortable to sleep in the same bed as you? What if he needed his own space?
“Would you mind me staying here?” You asked in a whisper.
“I would love for you to stay here,” he answered, no hesitation.
He took your hand in his and gave you a small squeeze.
“What about work? Do you want to work?”
That’s what started this entire conversation. Azriel had overheard you saying to your shadows that you didn’t like working at the library. It was too quiet and slow for you. You wanted to move more and speak without being shhh’ed at.
But it was no way you were admitting that.
“I can work at the library,” you stated emotional less.
“I know you can work at the library, I’m asking if you want to.”
“I can work where I’m needed.”
“I know, but what do you want?”
“I want to work where I’m needed.”
“Liar.”
He almost knew you too well. He looked patiently at you. You knew he wasn’t going to move past this.
A small part of you appreciated it. You felt seen, you felt loved. But at the same time, you felt ungrateful. Azriel and his family had given you a second chance at life and you complained? It felt wrong.
“I want-,” you had to take a deep breath. “I want work that’s more productive, where I can move more and speak more. It’s too quiet for me.”
Azriel wrote down what you said.
“Good, that’s good. Do you have any particular work in mind?”
You shook your head. You didn’t know what existed. You knew too little to make that choice yourself.
“That’s alright. We’ll find something perfect for you.”
You didn’t think that would be possible, but you didn’t tell him that.
“What do you feel about training?”
“I really like learning new ways to use and tire out the shadows.”
“I’m happy to hear that. What about more physical training?”
You immediately felt a shiver down your spine. Did he want you to fight? You had enjoyed life so much not having to fight, you weren’t sure if you could go back to survival mode.
“Y/N,” Azriel’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. “I mean training as a way to move your body. As a way to use up some of the energy you have. And as a way to clear your mind and feel relaxed. Not as in fighting or going hunting, unless you want to.”
You had never in your life thought about training as something else than surviving. You had to workout daily to be strong enough to hunt or to fight for goods.
But you had to admit, you missed moving your body.
“I could try, but I don’t want to fight,” you answered truthfully. It had become a little easier.
Azriel sat down the pen and paper after he had written down what you said.
“I’m proud of you, lovely,” he said as he moved you into his lap. His arms were around your waist and his wings hugged you too. You leaned into him and rested your head on his shoulder.
“Thank you, Azzie.”
You could feel him smiling.
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“So she hates working at the library?” Feyre asked after Azriel had read the list of things you wanted. “We’ve asked her multiple times and she always said she liked it!”
“She’s terrified of people thinking she’s ungrateful,” Azriel said.
He had gotten Rhys, Cassian, Feyre and Nesta to meet up with him to help him help you.
“She has only given me minimal details about what she wants, but it’s better than nothing.”
Rhys picked up the paper and read through it once more. A soft smile grew on his face.
“She’s staying at the House?” He asked.
Azriel nodded, but couldn’t hold his shadows back from dancing around him.
“Someone’s in love,” Cassian sang.
Azriel sent him a glare. He wasn’t in a joking mood.
You had lived your entire life never getting to make choices. Even in this past year in Velaris you hadn’t done things you enjoyed. You had only pretended and Azriel hated that he hadn’t realized it before now.
That why he asked his family for help. He wanted to figure something out quickly.
“So Y/N will join us for strength and endurance training and when we go over to fighting, she can train with shadows?” Nesta suggested.
“That could work. Az can take the lead on the strength training and I take the fighting, so she would be near you the entire time,” Cassian added.
Azriel nodded in agreement. He knew it would be hard for you to start training again, so if he could stay with you, that would help.
“As for work, we can probably rule out anything that has with books. And also other jobs where she would be alone.”
You had lived alone in a cabin since you were 15 years. While you met other people, you spent most of your time alone, hunting in the woods.
“I hear Madja is looking for a receptionist. It would definitely be louder and more hectic than working at the library,” Feyre explained.
It was perfect.
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Azriel literally jumped out the window the second your shadows informed his that you were done at work.
You had your first day as a receptionist for Madja and while you were excited to do something else than working in the library, you were also very nervous.
Azriel had woken up several times from you twisting in bed from not being able to sleep.
He landed in front of the office and you walked out the second you saw him. There was a lightness to your steps that Azriel never had seen before.
You also smiled from ear to ear as you walked towards him and crashed into his chest.
Gods, you’re adorable.
“I’m exhausted,” you mumbled into his chest before you took his hand and you walked towards the House. “I love it! I’ve talked to so many people. And I’ve helped a few too. Most of the time it was just pointing to the toilet and announce when it was ready for the next patient. But sometimes someone wanted to talk. And I’ve heard so many life stories! And there was a small babe that would stop crying, but then Elizabeth and Tobias started swirling around him and he stopped immediately.”
Azriel loved seeing you like this. Your smile lit up his entire heart. He couldn’t stop himself as he grabbed your waist and pulled you towards him into a passionate kiss.
Butterflies spread through his stomach. He loved kissing you. But kissing you when you were blooming with happiness was even better.
“I love you.”
“I love you too, Azzie. And so does my shadows,” you said with a laugh.
Azriel first now realized the shadows that were twisted into his hair.
He tried to brush them off, but they stayed. He didn’t care. They were a part of you and he loved you so he loved them, even though they annoyed him sometimes.
“I’ve got dinner ready at home. It’s your favorite,” Azriel informed. He was very proud of himself, not as proud as he was of you of course, but proud. He had rushed home from training to have dinner ready for you as a surprise.
“Really! Chicken pasta?” You asked hopefully. Azriel noticed something off in your voice as you asked him, but he ignored it as he nodded. “Thank you soo much Azriel! I can’t wait.”
Azriel halted his steps. Your words didn’t sound sincere and Azriel immediately knew what it was.
“They told you, didn’t they?” He asked signaling towards your shadows.
You nodded carefully.
Azriel shook his head with a sigh. Now he knew what all his friends felt like when they tried to surprise him.
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“Does your leg hurt?” Azriel asked you the second you walked into the training ground. “Your weight is uneven.”
“Nope, just not used to the new prosthetic yet.”
Nuan had worked on a new prosthetic for you, since your old one was malfunctioning a lot after the attack.
You had only recently started using it, so it felt very unnatural. The first day you used it was like hell. Every time you moved, you would get shooting pain in your foot. So you had taken a few days break from it.
“Okay, please let me know if it starts hurting again.”
“I will,” you answered truthfully. Azriel had been extremely helpful when you were experiencing phantom pain and you really enjoyed him taking care of you.
However, you hated when he worried and you had quickly realized that the more you told him about your chronic pain, the less he worried unnecessary.
You walked over to Nesta. She was standing with two other females. Gwyn, you knew from the library, but you didn’t know who the other female was. You could only see her magnificent wings, but clipped, illyrian wings.
“Y/N! Glad you’re finally here!” Nesta spoke the second she saw you. “This is Emerie and you already know Gwyn. This is Y/N!”
You felt comfortable talking to them, it felt nice.
“Okay, we’ll start with running,” Azriel said and everyone started running.
While you enjoyed feeling the burn in your legs and sweat on your forehead, you also felt tense. You had never been running unless it was away from danger.
The pleasant burn, soon turned painful. Your controlled breath turned into panic. And at last, the sweat turned into tears.
You were about to start your second to last lap when you felt your shadows stopping you. They carefully led you away from the path.
“You’re okay, Y/N,” Azriel soft voice told you. “You did great. You’re safe.”
His voice grounded you and soon your shadows let you loose.
Azriel got closer to you, but didn’t touch you. You moved towards him and let him hold you.
“That was scary.”
His arms tightened.
“You did great, next time you’ll get further. I’m sure of it.”
The rest of the training went surprisingly well. You did almost all the exercises correctly and only needed a little help from Azriel.
You felt very light and relaxed as you walked together with Azriel to the other side of the training ground. It was shadow time.
“You’re going to defend yourself against my shadows,” Azriel explained. “I’ll try to cover you in darkness and your shadow should try to keep your sight clear.”
“You actually think they’ll do that?”
“I know they can do it, my shadows have done it for yours. You just have to command them and commit to it.”
It annoyed you how easy he made it seem.
You stood ready and tried to calm your mind enough to concentrate properly on your shadows.
“I’ll close my eyes, so that you’ll be the only one that has control over the situation. Just ask me to stop if it gets too much.”
You nodded sharply in agreement and not even a second later, you were covered in darkness.
There was a time in your life when this would have terrified you. For example the first time your shadows covered you and you had panicked for over an hour afterwards.
But now, it only felt comforting.
The shadows danced around, they enjoyed taking a lot of space. And even though they were alert, they still sometimes hugged you as they swirled past.
And the smell. The smell was the best part. You were covered in night chilled mist and cedar. You realized you were right where you were supposed to be.
“You okay?” Azriel asked.
“Yeah, just need a little more time.”
You sent your shadows to Azriel’s shadows that were the closest to you. You made them push against them. And suddenly, even though you still felt Azriel’s shadows around you, you could see through the darkness.
You sent your shadows further, and soon you realized that it was no longer Azriel’s shadows that laid the training ground in darkness. It was yours.
So you did the most logical thing.
You shadow-walked directly in front of your mate, laid your hand at his chest and caught his lips in the softest kiss you could.
You then pulled back your shadows. They immediately began twisting into Azriel’s, asking for reassurance that they did a good job.
You were however completely lost in the sparkling hazel eyes that looked deeply into your own.
You were the luckiest fae alive. You were sure of it.
“That was awesome!” Cassian’s voice drew your attention away from Azriel.
“Yes, Y/N, it was really cool,” Emerie told you.
You felt so proud.
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“What are you thinking about?” Azriel asked you as the two of you laid down in bed.
You had laid on his chest, half asleep, for the past hour as he read his book. That had become a part of your nighttime routine. His arm was resting on your waist, his shadows were playing with your hair and your shadows helped him turn the pages.
“You’ve been distracted since training earlier. Is everything okay?”
You had been thinking about the shadow training the entire day.
Even though you were proud of your achievement, you still had one question that was burning in your chest.
“Can I ask you something?”
Azriel immediately put away the book and shifted all his attention towards you.
“Of course, lovely. Anything.”
“Did you let me win over your shadows that easily?”
“You really found it that easy huh?”
“To be honest, yeah I did.”
He took some time just looking at you. By the feelings he sent down the bond you knew it was both admiration and respect, but also a little lustfulness that made you laugh.
“I didn’t make it easy for you. The opposite actually. I tried to fight back, but I couldn’t.”
You were almost speechless. He had tried to hold back, and you still managed to take control with minimal effort.
“You don’t need to look so surprised, lovely,” he said and gave your forehead a small kiss. “I have always known you were extraordinary, you just need to believe it yourself.”
From that day forward, you understood that you actually already had the courage to do exactly that.
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@i-have-a-thing-for-the-dark @saltedcoffeescotch @rcarbo1 @mrsjna @kitsunetori @thecraziestcrayon @blessthepizzaman @mybestfriendmademe @scatteredstardustt @lilah-asteria @aaahhh0127 @topaz125 @miadialila @ivy-34 @goldenmagnolias @bwormie @animalistic0
Deviders by @cafekitsune
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thefrogman · 6 hours
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Back in the olden days, if you used the "keep reading" function on a Tumblr-dot-com post, it would
not get very many notes.
At all.
I am not sure exactly why.
I think people hated pressing an extra thing.
But maybe it was also a psychological phenomenon where, given the choice, they were unwilling to trust me with their time.
But if I sucked them in with a good story or a compelling image, they would get serious FOMO.
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When I created a super high effort post-of-length I would get comments like, "This was way too long but before I realized it I was reading the last sentence."
That was a really good feeling.
I used to do tests to figure out the best posting strategies and I think I figured out you'd lose about 90% of your notes if you did a "keep reading" post.
So that notion was ingrained in my brain again and again from when I was very note-obsessed and I have since avoided the "keep reading" option almost like a conditioned response.
Just seeing that squiggly line appear still induces a Pavlovian fear.
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But that was probably a decade ago and I did a new experiment. My story about replacing my mailbox did reasonably well with a strategically clickbaity "keep reading."
This was a promising result due to the fact that some people like to send me hate for writing a lengthy post.
I recently got a death threat for writing too much, which was a fun reminder of my M&M days (I melted men's rights activists' brains with a poorly worded analogy and they launched a years long harassment campaign).
It seems in present-era-Tumblr-dot-com many more people prefer pressing an extra thing rather than scrolling a bunch on their smartphone. The collective behavior has changed. And maybe I don't need to use tricks and running gags in order to get folks to "keep reading".
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Unfortunately I started writing that ring light post a few months ago so I wasn't able to include that in the experiment. But I am going to try using the keep reading function in the future and as long as the average number of folks that usually read my longer posts continue to read my posts, that will be the standard approach.
I also tag these posts with "long post" so you can flag that if you wish.
While I am no longer in the audience-building phase of my Tumblr career, these essays and stories and educational posts take a considerable amount of time and effort to create, so I do want to make sure everyone who wants to read them is able to. But posts without hearts and reblogs can quickly die a gruesome algorithmic death. Even my most ardent followers would tell me things were not showing up on their dash. (I think replies help mitigate that, so if you like a long post, you can help with engagement.)
The collective noun is a "business" of ferrets.
Do you want to see a business of ferrets ready to do some business?
KEEP READING
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I love writing and it is a huge catharsis for me. And I love sharing any knowledge I feel like I have the earned expertise to speak on with authority (technology, photography, light, fun ferret facts, etc). I wish I had the energy to be a photography teacher, but long posts on Tumblr are probably the best I can do for now.
I know my posts are super long, but I try to make them as fun and informationally dense as I possibly can. I don't like wasting people's time if I can avoid it. Though maybe I should trust my follower's attention span a bit more. I have this fear that if I am not constantly entertaining, people will click away or unfollow.
I think a good business for a business of ferrets would be selling pool noodles that look like ferrets.
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So as long as I get roughly the same amount of notes I will do the keep reading. And then maybe people can lay off on the mean comments and occasional requests to end my own life because I bloviated about soft light.
100% true ferret fact..
If you ask a ferret what their business is, they will crawl on your shoulder and whisper in your ear...
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spookypete-94 · 2 days
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Choices have Consequences
Being friends with both Simon and Johnny, you try your best to convince Simon he's better than the man who raised him at the request of Johnny. All because Johnny wants a family... It's you who pays the price.
GhoapxFem!reader
CW for language and pregnancy, baby trapping if you squint??
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"You don't know that." Simon grumbled refusing to look up at you. This whole conversation has been unwanted and awkward to him. Not only was he receiving the same message from Johnny, but now you too?
You had been a long time friend to both of them, meeting in the service and proving each other through thick and thin. That didn't mean he appreciated your mock sympathy.
"I do know that, Si. No better men I trust more than you and Johnny. You'll both be wonderful parents."
"Don't wan' be like him." You knew what he was referring to. He was afraid to be a parent and end up like his father.
"You ever think it's that cognitive choice that makes us better than the people who raised us? The fact we don't want to be like them? I think it does and because you remember what you had growing up, it's going to make and keep you different."
Brown coals looked up through you from the slots of his mask. A fire ignited peeking through the black war paint that you could see on his skin.
"Ya' mean that?"
"I do. Think you're a good man for the job. Both you and Johnny are going to raise some wonderful children." Reaching across lightly squeezing his hand that was next to his mug full of tea.
A heavy sigh left him as he nodded, taking in your words. A whole plan plotting in his head, taking seed and growing across his brain.
If only you could see it.
As a thank you for talking Simon into being open to having children, Johnny had invited you over for dinner a few days later.
Celebrating they pulled out the expensive whiskey, sharing it with you after a hearty dinner.Maybe that's what caused you to let your guard down. An invite to Simon and Johnny both.
It had left you in shock as Simon had you folded up against Johnny, slamming into you at a rough and hard pace. Each pant and heavy breath, him explaining that him and Johnny had decided to try the old fashioned way. Giving their seed to you for you to grow their much wanted baby. A piece of Simon and Johnny mixed with you. What better gift??
The more shocking part however was Johnny whispering in your ear over and over again of over flowing gratitude.
"Thank ya' hen, would never o' got this far wit' out ya'."
Simon pounded into you harder from the praise. You and Johnny cornering him both about this?? Fine. A baby it is then, but you're going to help too dammit.
"Givin' me and Si the greatest gift. Our little family ey'?"
9 months later, a blonde brown eyed boy was born. Mission accomplished right?
It wasn't like Simon and Johnny had planned to keep you after this right??
Wrong.
A part of their little family you were, and a part of their family you would stay. Even if you wanted it or not, this is the price you pay for telling Simon he was a loveable man. You are theirs now.
Simon "Ghost" Riley Masterlist
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We ain’t angry at you, love
Katie McCabe x teen!reader
trigger warnings: mentions of suicide, hospitals, grief, overall mental health.
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you didn’t realise it had gotten this bad, or maybe you did and you weren’t ready to admit it.
there was something about admitting how bad things had gotten that scared you, talking about your feelings, admitting that you needed help was beyond scary.
you couldn’t tell your mam how much you were struggling, couldn’t verbalise just how much you were hurting, you didn’t want to hurt her, make her realise that despite everything she couldn’t make you better, couldn’t heal your past.
you were broken beyond repair, everything about you was entirely broken, from your head to your toes, your heart to your brain, it was all broken, your life was a mess, that only seemed to get worse and worse the more life went on.
you were only young, sixteen to be precise and yet you’d been through more than most people would in their lifetime, but your man had saved you, stopped you from drowning when you were twelve years old, she gave you a home, somewhere to feel safe, loved and cared for, you thought that feeling would last forever, that the love your mam gave you would be enough. Stop you from crumbling to your PTSD, you thought that every happy memory your mam gave you would replace every bad one, and it did for awhile at least, everything was okay, you were happy, until you weren’t.
until you started playing for Arsenal, until the hate began and undone everything you had tried your best to patch up, until the flashbacks came back and the anxiety consumed you again.
maybe you were destined for this life, this never ending cycle of pain and heartbreak.
this cycle of finally feeling better, like you wanted to live, wanted to be happy and then the inevitable would happen, you’d crash, and the feelings would come back, each time they did you felt a piece of you break, another piece of you unraveling, until you were all unravelled, a
This cycle of finally feeling better, like you wanted to live, wanted to be happy, and then the inevitable would happen, you’d crash, and the feelings would come back. Each time they did, you felt a piece of you break, another piece of you unraveling, until you were all unraveled, consumed by the weight of your mind. the tumbleweed mess of your past taking over.
it was what led you here, alone in your bathroom crouched over the sink, throwing the contents of your stomach out, bleeding out all over the once shiny white tiles.
your wrists were burning now, your scarlett blood was dripping down the bathrooms bright white tiles, you can still remember picking out those tiles with your mam, you were 13 and the bathroom was being renovated, katie let you pick out the tiles, you had spent hours deciding what ones to get, what the perfect ones were, it was something so simple and yet it was the first time you’d ever been given the choice in something, allowed to decide something on your own, at the time you hadn’t known your blood was going to pour out all over them, ruin the perfect tiles you picked out, hadn’t realised you would spent your last moments on these tiles, those white shiny tiles.
you didn’t know what had led you here today, why today was the day you’d simply had enough, why you’d finally gotten over the fear and just done it, you didn’t know why, you were just done, so fucking done.
you couldn’t breathe now you realised, you think you were dying, although you couldn’t be sure because you’d never died before.
it felt good you think, knowing that soon you’d take your last breathes, soon you’d be gone, free from the shackles of your mind, free from your past.
you had been at peace with this decision for a long time, way before you had actually done it, way before you had even came into your mind, it was always your destiny to go out this way.
Your biological mum had went out this way, after one to many lashing from your father, days later your father had went the same way, blade to the wrist, just like you were now, you had found him, slumpt up against the bathroom door, just like you were now, it was always what was supposed to happen you realised, you weren’t made for the fame, strangers weren’t supposed to know your name, you weren’t supposed to feel the love that Katie had given you, that wasn’t your destiny, this was.
you’d spent to long pretending it was, pretending that everything was fine, that this wasn’t how you were supposed to go, sometimes you had even believed it, believed that you were going to be okay, some days you truly believed you could live this life, live a life of fame, happiness, love and then it would all come crushing down, and you’d be harshly reminded off your fate.
-
you thought you were gone, thought it was all over, but then you heard the beeping, loud obnoxious beeps, this wasn’t death, wasn’t hell or heaven, no this was something else.
this wasn’t where you were supposed to be, no you were supposed to be gone, you should be gone you did everything right, you didn’t exactly what your late mother had done and your father, they had gone, they got to leave and yet you hadn’t.
no you were still here you realised, you were in a dimly lit hospital room, the beeping becoming more clear, the soft snores of caitlin in the background, this was not the end.
this was much worse you realised, you had failed, you had failed yet again, if your father was here to see he would have laughed at your failure, he probably sneering at you right now, wherever he was, wherever you go when you die.
you didn’t want to open your eyes, if you opened your eyes it would all become real, what you had tried to do, you’d have to your mams heartbreak, you’d have to go to therapy and talk and talk, you couldn’t do that.
you were to scared, terrified in fact, you didn’t want to be here you couldn’t here.
you were getting truly distressed now, your heartbeat increasing, the beeping was getting louder now, doctors came rushing in trying to calm you.
“hey darling, it’s okay can you breathe for me sweetheart” you hear your mams calming essence, her usual accent thick with emotion.
slowly you opened your eyes, staring back at you were your mams bright green eyes, they were glossed all over, her eyes bag prominent.
you had done this you realised, you’d destroyed your mam, broken her heart.
“M’ sorry” you managed to croak out, your voice cracking slightly.
because you were sorry, you didn’t realise how upset your ma would be, you figured she’d get over it, you’d only been in her life a short time, you didn’t think she’d be so upset.
“you don’t need to be sorry baby i’m just glad your okay” katie replied, giving you a soft smile.
you could see the hurt in her eyes, you weren’t stupid, you knew it wasn’t okay.
“no i’m sorry ma I’m sorry for coming into your life and fucking up all your plans i’m so fucking sorry.”
you watch as your mams face falls, her shoulder drops, and the tears well back up again.
“No y/n you are the best to ever happen to me, i love you and i need you here with me, at home and healthy, you don’t need to be sorry for anything” she tells you, the urgency in her voice becoming more evident.
you shake your head “no i ruined your life i ruin everything i touch you should have let me died ma.”
“No baby, you didn’t” she replies quietly, her words remain in the air for a while.
you could hear the sincerity in her voice, it didn’t change how you felt though, maybe to her you hadn’t ruined her life, but to you, and everyone round her you had ruined her life.
“y/n before i met you, i was lost, i wasn’t me, i had lost myself and then u became your mam and suddenly everything was okay again, i found my purpose, my purpose was to be your mam to make you happy and healthy, you changed my life yes, but you changed it for the better, every single day i wake up and thank god that you came into my life, you’re my baby girl y/n and i love you.”
Her words hit you like a truck, you hadn’t known you were crying until Katie reached down to your cheek to wipe them away.
You didn’t want to live, or so you had thought, and then you heard katie’s words, and all of a sudden maybe living in wasn’t quite so bad.
“i don’t know what to do ma, i’m scared, and I’m all alone i don’t think i can be me again” you cried out, your words were almost unrecognisable.
“You can do it, you have me, Caitlin, your teammates, you can baby you are so strong” Katie tells you, hugging you tightly, she wishes she could hold onto you forever, wishes you both could just stay like this, where she could keep you safe and away from the whirlwind of your mind.
“go to sleep baby, once you wake up, we can talk some more, it’s all going to be okay i promise.”
and you believed her, maybe it will all be okay, maybe you can do this, you can face this, maybe just maybe your destiny isn’t the same as your mothers or father.
-
you didn’t wake up.
you never woke up again.
you had a seizure and your heart stopped, you died, you never got to hear Katie’s next words.
you weren’t given the chance to get better.
you didn’t get to see your full potential.
you didn’t get to achieve everything you always wanted to.
you never got live out that bright future everyone always told you that you had.
you didn’t get to finish school.
you didn’t get to sign your first pro contract, like you had always dreamed off.
all of those things never happened.
because you killed yourself, on them bright white tiles, in your bathroom floor, just like your mother and father had once.
-
Katie’s eyes snapped open, pulling the covers away from her body, scrambling out of bed, walking towards your bedroom, praying she’d find you, praying this was all just some kind of evil prank, that she’d find you safe and sound asleep in bed, like you should be.
your room was excatly as you left, the letters you wrote, remained untouched, katie couldn’t bear to read them, not yet at least.
your homework was left sprawled on your desk, your clothes scattered around your room, your fairy lights remained on, exactly as you left them.
to anyone else it would look like normal teenage girls bedroom.
but to Katie, it was the last thing she had left of you, the last part of you that wasn’t full of dark memories, the last thing that remained untouched form that night.
katies body trembled as she remembered that night, finding your lifeless body and blood sprawled out all over the bathroom floor, seeing your eyes that were once filled with so much light and happiness, dead and cold.
“Katie?”
Caitlin asked, leaning against the doorframe.
“you okay baby” she questioned slowly, watching as the brunette eyes frantically searched the room, looking for you.
you weren’t there.
you’d never be there again.
never.
“i had a dream of what could’ve been” she managed to choke out to her girlfriend, turning around to look at her “i miss her so much i just want my baby girl back cait” she wailed, heavy tears flowing down her cheeks.
she’d had this exact dream, every night since you had left, it had been exactly one week without you, without hearing your smile and laugh, it had a long and exhausting week.
Breaking the news to her teammates, watching as their face dropped, watching as their heart broke right in front of her.
and then there was breaking the news to the entire women’s football community, the child prodigy, the sixteen year old girl who was supposed to be Arsenals future ‘star girl’, telling the world that her daughter was gone, gone from this world, and that she would never come back.
it had been a long week of paper work, planning your funeral, she should have been planning your birthday, instead she was picking out flowers and coffins.
“it’s okay Katie, you’re allowed to cry and be upset, you can be upset for as long as you need baby” Caitlin sympathised, slowly making her way to Katie’s spot on your bed.
“she was only sixteen cait, sixteen she still had so much left to give, so much to see, she wanted to see so much and now she never will.” Katie rambled out, her words becoming almost unrecognisable.
“i know, i know, but now you get to live for her, do all the things she wanted to do caitlin replied slowly, pulling her into a bone crushing hug.
“i wish she came to me cait i could’ve helped” Katie sobbed out again.
“i know I’m so sorry baby.”
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cyberclouddream · 23 hours
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The Sun through the Houses
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The Sun represents what motivates us and how we want to be recognized. It’s also tied to paternal influences, consequences from the past, our ability to command respect, and how we replenish energy levels.
Sun in the 1st House:
- often naturally attract followers or admirers due to their commanding presence
- have a good understanding of their personal goals
- may be deeply involved in physical health or activities
- may feel called to follow the same path as a paternal figure
- desire to leave a mark in the world can result in activism or social movements
- may suffer from identity crisis because of expectations
Sun in the 2nd House:
- fixated on [ and creative at ] making money and accumulating possessions
- have strong personal values that guide their choices
- feel pressure to meet family financial expectations
- may secretly crave more meaning then wealth
- hoarding behaviors
Sun in the 3rd House:
- can be a good public speaker, writer, or journalist
- attract sibling rivalry or support
- often feel drawn to engage in their community
- often derive their self-worth from being seen as knowledgeable or articulate
- obsessed with how they’re perceived in conversation
- often feel restless or dissatisfied
Sun in the 4th House:
- their life seems to revolve around family matters more than anything
- family matters seem to be full of drama
- deeply tied to their heritage, or traumatic past
- may be a real estate junkie
- emotional rollercoaster that stems from childhood trauma
- lots of pressure from parents or family expectations
Sun in the 5th House:
- often crave the spotlight when it comes their talents
- love experiencing romantic affairs, especially dramatic and fantastical ones
- childlike spirit
- challenges with how they’re perceived in parenthood
- their ego is tied to their hobbies
- come off attention-seeking
Sun in the 6th House:
- type to arrive first and leave last for work
- may go overboard on diets and health regimens
- taken for granted for being too focused on helping others
- perfectionist tendencies
- power struggles with bosses or colleagues
- hypochondriac or health anxieties
Sun in the 7th House:
- tie their worth to their relationships; dependency issues
- may attract partners who are passionate but prone to conflict
- have strong negotiation skills
- strong focus on marriage and commitments, with potential for idealizing and romanticizing
- partners can shape how others perceive you
- may struggle with committing due to fear of losing independence
Sun in the 8th House:
- drawn to situations that challenge your limits
- fascination with mysteries, the occult, or taboo topics
- drawn to power struggles in relationships
- inheritances, shared resources, or joint finances play a significant role in their life
- obsessive tendencies
- potential to be good at healing others through deep emotional work, like therapy
Sun in the 9th House:
- obsessed with introspection and learning, like diving into philosophy and spirituality
- addicted to traveling; romanticize adventure
- self-proclaimed guru with stubborn beliefs
- attract people from different cultures
- chronic dissatisfaction
- get caught up in superficial aspects of spirituality
Sun in the 10th House:
- obsessed with career and public image
- crave validation and recognition for achievements
- often feel overshadowed or overly rebellious when it comes to authority figures
- may feel imposter syndrome
- pressure to succeed can cause paralyzing fear
- workaholic tendencies
- relationships can struggle because too focused on professional goals
Sun in the 11th House:
- thrive best in friendships and social connections, often using them to achieve goals
- may have unrealistic ideas when it comes to aspirations, causes, and friendships
- self-worth is tied to feeling accepted and received by social circles
- friendships over family
- network over authenticity; tend to groupthink
Sun in the 12th House:
- true self often feels buried or misunderstood
- strong inclination towards introspection, preferring solitary activities like writing or meditation
- drawn to spirituality and mysteries of life
- opportunities often slip because they feel like they don’t deserve them
- may be very sensitive to the emotional presence of others
- may often feel creative blocks
- escape reality through daydreaming
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atley01 · 3 days
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Tips for all of my alternative & Chronically ill/ disabled friends!
A big thing that's helped me feel more comfortable accommodating my disability is finding accessibility tools that reflect my personality / interests.
I should put a disclaimer that making disability "aesthetic" should not be the most important thing about your health! I do this where I can to help me accept my disability.
Here are some alt accessibility tools I've found / made & utilized for myself!
1. If you're prone to nausea:
Anti-nausea meds work, but I also find that peppermints work just as well! I always have mints on me. At home, I've stored them in this coffin container!
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I do keep a few of these mints in my bag, as well as ginger hard candies (they taste very strong, but are VERY efficient). I got the peppermints at Dollar tree, and they've genuinely been a life saver.
Alternatively, I've found this adorable ouija board altoids container that has mints in it!
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The mints are even fun-shaped! I also saw other horror-movie themed altoid containers in-store as well. Since they're tiny, they dont work well for severe nausea, but they are still helpful!
2. If you struggle with temperature-regulation:
For me, my hands and feet are always FREEZING, but my core will be super warm. What has helped me a lot has been gloves and fuzzy socks!
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I have a lot of spooky gloves like this, but I prefer the fingerless ones because I can still use my phone and be warm at the same time! I've also heard my friends who are wheelchair users say gloves can help protect your hands if you use a manual wheelchair. Another added bonus is that certain gloves can help limit mobility for those of you who struggle with hypermobility in your hands.
3. Do you have noise-canceling headphones? Decorate them!
I decorated my N/C headphones in shark stickers because sharks are my special interest!
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These are Soundcore Life Q30's. I have gotten compliments on the stickers many times! You could put halloween stickers on yours or decorate your headphones in other ways! I've seen people crochet horns onto the headband portion of their headphones.
4. I would recommend any chronically ill person carry a cup around to stay hydrated:
ESPECIALLY If you need electrolytes. You can either have a drink like propel or powerade in your cup (or any drink of your choice, and you could put electrolyte packets in there).
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This specific cup isn't the best at keeping my drink cold, but it holds a decent amount of liquid! And it's spooky. If you're someone who struggles to drink enough water, I've found that getting a fun cup helps me a lot!
5. Make communication bracelets!
If I'm having a difficult time voicing my needs, or I'm in a verbal shutdown, these bracelets can come in handy for me.
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I'll either wear them on my wrist when needed or present them to my friends so they can read the bracelet and understand what I need. I keep them on a keychain that way I dont lose them and can transport them easily. An example of some of the phrases I've turned into bracelets is; "No spoons," "spoon debt," "verbal shutdown," and "flashbacks," (for when I'm having a PTSD episode.) You could make a bracelet with the medical condition you have as a DIY medical-alert bracelet. I added tiny spoon charms to some of my bracelets because I thought it was funny.
5. Mobility aids!
Decorate your mobility aids with things like stickers, kandi, lights, etc! Pinterest, instagram, and tiktok have a lot of good ideas. You can easily customize your mobility aids to look spooky or look however you want them to!
6. Bags!
I know that for me, I NEED to carry a bag around whenever I go out because it has important medical items that I need, but it also keeps all my important items like keys, id, ect, in one spot so that I dont forget / lose them. SOME spooky bags are expensive, but you could find a plain black bag at a thrift store or walmart and accessorize it with patches, keychains, and pins! I've seen people paint designs onto their bags before as well.
• You dont have to spend a lot of money on your accessibility tools!
Find ways to DIY them, or get them secondhand! You could even try working with household items you already have! A lot of these items, or items very similar to it, can be found at the dollar tree - even the materials needed to make the beaded bracelets! (Outside of the spoon charms)
Thats all!
If I think of more, you'll see me again! Be spooky, and be kind to yourself!
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whatdudtheysay · 2 days
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Context - You're on a boring 'date' with the duke of the north. But a certain someone keeps catching your eye...
Tw - slight nsfw but nothing major.
Note - this series will have switching povs to show inner thoughts of both main leads <3 - might include other important characters.
Credit - @cafekitsune
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You sighed softly as you woke up in your large bed, stretching with a light moan.
Another day of pretending to be poised and demure. You got out of bed and stretched once more before heading over to the long and big rope bell in your room.
You shook it tiredly and only 0.5 seconds passed before five different maids entered, two carrying hot buckets of water and three empty handed.
They all curtsied in sync, smiling at you warmly.
"good morning, your highness."
"good morning." You greeted back.
The two with the water moved into your ensuite to prepare your bath while the others went to your huge closet, holding out different dresses until you decided to choose a simple light blue dress. They nodded, offering comments like "excellent choice" and "you'll look amazing in this dress, your highness."
But you've heard it all before. You were then ushered into the bathroom for a bath, the maids helping you undress before helping you into the warm water, their hands helping wash your hair.
It was nice of them to do but you thought it would stop when you were 16. However, your mother insisted.
Luckily, time passed quickly and you were out of the bath. luckily, after you 'kindly' told them to excuse you to dress yourself, they did.
After they left, you laid back on your bed, your towel slightly slipping off. You were dreading today. A date with a duke? He's probably been divorced 4 times and has 7 children.
You were dreading it. But it wasn't like you had a choice. You sat up quickly and pulled on some underwear, your stockings, then your dress and then your jewellery.
After a long thirty minutes of doing your hair and drowning yourself in rose perfume, you finally got up and headed downstairs.
There, you entered the dining room and saw your father at the head of the table, smoking a fat cigar and reading the royale newspaper as usual, your mother beside him, drinking some tea.
"good morning." You greeted before taking a seat opposite your mother.
"Morning, sweetness. Are you prepared?" Your father asked.
"Prepared?" You feigned ignorance, staring at the window as the maids served you breakfast.
"do not play dumb, y/n. It isn't befitting-"
"-of a Princess. I know, mother." You cut her off gently. "But do I have to go on this outing? I know you all want what's best for me but a duke?"
"you rejected 30 princes, 5 imperial knights and an earl. This is for your own good since you love being stubborn." Your dad sighed, turning the page of his paper. "I'm guessing you got that from your mother."
Your mother gave your father a glare before she refocused on her breakfast.
You wanted to argue further but you knew that they'd make the situation worse for you. You hated how your parents acted when it came to your life...
It was your only chance at living and yet you weren't in control. You were just a doll to them... And then you'd be a doll to your future husband. The cycle wouldn't end.
"Very well, then. I shall prepare." You grit out before getting up and leaving your breakfast untouched.
You were walking. You didn't know where but you were angry and you just needed to walk it off before you got yourself in more trouble.
You continued to mumble to yourself, ignoring the different palace helps who stopped to greet you. After almost five minutes, you looked up and realised you were in a deeper end of the palace.
Unsure, you glanced around. Despite living here since you were born, you'd never explored this much. You weren't allowed to. Funny.
You continued going deeper. At least if you got lost it would give you an excuse to hold off on the date with the duke. Eventually, you found a room at the end of the hall and pushed it open, revealing a large hall.
"woah." You audibly mumbled. It was so big. A bit smaller than the main... You guessed it was a spare....
Hesitantly, you stepped inside and noticed a lot of portraits around. So this was where your childhood ones went. One of you as a baby, a child, then the most recent was from your 18th, just a few months ago.
You were about to let your hand gently brush against the golden frame when-
"A beautiful portrait."
You gasped and turned around to see.... Him...
Lieutenant Fushiguro.
"Lieutenant- what're you doing here?" You asked. Did he follow you? You hadn't noticed... Or heard him.
"forgive me for starting you." He bowed. "The king wants me to guard your date with the Duke...I tried to find you but the maids said you stormed off in this direction."
Oh.... That made sense....
You somewhat calmed down and nodded. "I see. Sorry...I didn't mean to waste time..."
It was a lie. You did.
But you couldn't deny, the view was... Delectable. The view of him in that tight dark blue and cream royal guard attire... The brooches on his blazer, his hair that was slicked back yet somewhat messy...
It was hard to ignore that delicious shiver that kept tingling down your spine.
"It isn't a problem...besides, I'm sure you are...dreading the meeting?" Toji supposed.
You sighed in relief. It felt like he was the only one who wasn't lobotomized around here.
"Finally! Someone who isn't brain-dead. Uh, no offense." You huffed.
He chuckled deeply in a way that made molten heat pool in your lower stomach.
"I'm not sure a woman such as yourself should settle for anyone you find below your standard." Toji shrugged simply, taking a few steps between you, eating up the distance.
You found yourself nodding to his words almost eagerly. How did a stranger manage to see it and say exactly what your heart wanted while your parents believed the complete opposite?
"I'm glad someone understands." You mumbled, glancing back at your portrait.
"Well sometimes you need a change of perspective." He spoke calmly, his voice a lot closer than before.
You glanced over your shoulder, swallowing thickly when you noticed he was merely a step away from you.
Before either of you could speak up, the doors suddenly opened and your father entered. You glanced at toji, then your father, noticing the stare off they were currently having.
"Y/n. Down to the main hall. The duke is waiting for you." Was all your father said.
But he said it in that voice. The voice he used when you were two ticks away from trouble. So, you moved around Toji awkwardly and quickly left the hall, your father closing the door behind you. Curiously, you pressed your ear against the door, overhearing some muffled words but nothing coherent.
"my lady."
You almost screamed at the sudden voice, whirling around to see your lady's maid and friend, Nobara.
"Gosh! Nobara, I told you not to sneak up on me anymore!" You lightly chastised, moving to interlink your arms, hoping your father hadn't realised you'd been eavesdropping.
She laughed softly. "Sorry. But I was told you'd be going out today?"
"yes... Just got a while. I hope." You sighed, remembering your 'date.'
"in that case, should I tell the emperor you'll see him next week?" She asked.
You raised a brow. Satoru wanted to see you? But why?
"I guess so. I'll probably be tired after the outing." You nodded. Now you wished you didn't have to go.
Satoru was your childhood friend before he inherited the Gojo empire. You barely ever saw him because it was situated in the far north and snow was fun until you got frostbite.
But you had to face reality... Before you got yourself into more trouble.
As you walked ahead, you took one last glance at the hall. The bigger part of you hoped you hadn't gotten Toji in any trouble...
ㅤㅤㅤ⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭ ⊹────⊹
(TOJI'S POV)
Fuck, it was hot. He was in the carriage with you, staring out of the windows, alert as usual.
But he was also discreetly staring at you. The heat was no match for a royal either. You were lightly fanning yourself, a bead of sweat moving down your collarbone, settling between the deep line of your cleavage.
Fuck. He had already ensured your father biting his head off about being near you earlier and now he was staring at those pretty tits eyes of yours. You kept glancing out of the window and then to your lap. Your fidgeting was making him nervous at this time.
"You alright, princess?" He asked, causing you to look up quickly.
You huffed, fanning yourself more. "Of course I am! I'm just... Thinking about my wonderful future wedding with the duke."
Toji chuckled, causing her to shyly avoid his gaze.
"I'm sure you'll receive many blessings of wealth and fertility." Toji hummed, making you gag.
"Ew, Ew, Ew! Don't!" You huffed, becoming more worried.
Toji sighed slightly. He could tell you didn't want to be bound to some random man and pop out more babies for him. Besides, who knew what the duke would make of the kingdom when your future husband took over.
Sadly, the ride slowed to a stop and toji helped you out of the carriage. He glanced around the large estate. It was....clean, kept...nice. befitting of a royal.
A woman came out, short and she had blonde hair.
"Good morning, I hope the the ride wasn't too eventful." She smiled, mostly at you than Toji.
"Oh, it was smooth, thank you." You replied with a smile as you had been accustomed to.
She led you up the path, Toji tailing behind, ensuring to keep an eye on the surroundings just in case...
They finally got into the estate, moving into the parlour which was thankfully, a lot cooler than the summer heat outside.
But then you suddenly stopped. Toji was a lot taller so he looked over your head and noticed a man sat, waiting...staring deeply into you.
Short silky blonde hair, regal robes and two different brightly coloured eyes. He had a wry smirk upon his lips and an odd look in his eyes as you stared at each other.
Naoya...the duke of the northern region.
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Tags ღ - @blobkvna , @byerno6 , @iseeyouuu , @iloveaustinelvisandmannymore , @aloserprobably , @tojislittleprincesss , @meforpr3sident , @someonejasjsj
A/n - by changing povs I mean the story will focus more on one person than another just to lyk <3
Please don't steal or copy my work. None of the art in my works are mine 𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚
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dirtyzucchini · 3 days
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Let me tell you something about Constable Benton Fraser, Royal Canadian Mounted Police, who came to Chicago on the trail of the killers of his father and, for reasons that don't need exploring at this juncture, remained, attached as liaison with the Canadian consulate.
There was never much of a chance that Benton Fraser would grow up to be what most people would casually call "a regular guy". From what little insight we get, no part of his childhood would have been standard. Looking at the anecdote Bob Fraser tells in Burning Down The House, we can assume that Benton grew up in a cabin his father built by hand, in a location remote enough and far enough North that living in an igloo during the construction of said cabin was a sensible thing for his parents to do. We see one picture of the family in Good For The Soul, and it is a puzzler:
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Now, I wasn't around in the mid to late 1960's when that photo would have been taken, and I've never been to Canada's far North, but everything I could find anywhere tells me that that is not how (white!) people dressed then even up there, and no, I am not talking about trendy fashion. Everyday clothing looked pretty much like what we still wear today, but the people in that picture don't. They look like this guy - a European "explorer" whose picture was taken in 1889:
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Side note: I am purposely only talking about white/western/mainstream society in this post because the Frasers are white.
I wonder what drove them to live like this, and so far away from other people? It can't have been money, Bob would have made enough to support them. I guess Fraser's parents weren't regular guys, either.
Anyway, we know that Bob wasn't around much while Fraser's mother was alive, and even less so after her death. He handed the boy off to his own parents instead, and Benton was raised by literal, real life Edwardians, people who were born before the invention of band-aids and bubblegum. Public radio broadcasts were cutting-edge technology when they were young. I'm glad they stepped up, and I'm sure they did their best, but they weren't exactly well-equipped to prepare a child for life in modern society. They were librarians who for some reason moved around a lot. When he was eight, they took Benton to a place called Alert - the northernmost continously inhabited place in the world. Unfortunately it's inhabited by soldiers and researchers who go there on six-months-tours, but it counts because the tours overlap. Fraser would have been the only child there, and, the times being what they were, his grandmother the only woman. What librarians would have done in Alert we can only speculate about, but between this and the fact that they helped build an English-speaking library in China before the revolution, we can safely assume that we are dealing with another generation of non-regular Frasers here. This idea is supported by the fact that they fed Fraser arctic tern for Christmas. Each bird weighs under 130 grams, and they would be hard to come by in northern Canada in December because they migrate to literally the other end of the world after breeding in the Arctic in the summer. I'm not entirely certain what this says about Fraser's grandparents, but it sure says something, doesn't it?
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This bird may scream, but it does not scream Christmas to me.
Listen, I LOVE that Fraser's grandmother taught him how to box from a book.
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Perhaps this one from 1922? In this book, the writer "not only describes the various moves of the game and traces the history of their development but deals comprehensively with all the factors of body and mind that make for success in the ring." Sounds like a good choice!
I do NOT love that she taught him that being in the hospital for three weeks after being shot in the back is "babying yourself". She also raised Bob Fraser to be the kind of man who tells his journal "The last time I saw Ben, he was barely tall enough to reach my belt. When I said good-bye he shook my hand. Never a tear or a complaint. Seven years old and he's already a stronger man than I'll ever be. Someday I'll tell him.", and friends, I DO NOT love that at all. That is NOT a healthy way to deal with emotions, and I think we can agree that growing up guided by these mindsets did Fraser no favors at all. Look at how he lives! His apartment is absolutely bare-bones, no personality, and after that he literally lives in his office - this is a man who gets REALLY uncomfortable when he's comfortable, is what I'm saying. Everything he does is quick and efficient to make sure he can devote a maximum amount of time to his work. I'd bet "Idle hands are the devil's workshop" was a very common saying in the Fraser household.
Look, our upbringing informs who we become, how we approach life, how we connect to those around us. Fraser's view of the world is completely different from how other people see it. Long before he's displaced geographically, he's displaced in time.
He grew up without TV, and while living with librarians gave him access to a large number of books, the libraries they worked at served remote communities and would not have been all too well funded. It stands to reason they would have had to make their books last as long as possible, and that new purchases would have been, shall we say, conservative? Copies of beloved classics, books with general appeal, books with educational/instructional value would have made up the bulk of purchases. Even if the librarians wanted to, there would have been little money to buy more controversial books - and it doesn't seem likely that Fraser's grandparents would have wanted to. Fraser probably grew up on adventure tales, detective stories and, as a teen and young adult, the classics from Austen to Shakespeare.
When he gets to Depot in Regina to become a Mountie he has nothing in common with the other recruits, and that continues throughout all his career. There's a reason he's still a Constable after all his years of service: he's severely lacking in social skills, and his upbringing is a big part of that problem*. He was raised by Edwardians on Victorian (and Romantic) mores and values, and bridging that gap to make connections with people from what's essentially a different world is very, very hard.
TL,DR: Fraser is both an alien and a time traveler, and we should remember that when we talk about him.
*Other parts of the problem are his queerness and neurodiversity, but those are topics for another essay. Please know that by problem I do NOT mean there's something wrong with him, I mean that there's something wrong with how society treats people like him.
Big thank you to @sammaggs and @sammeltassensammelsurium for excellent feedback!
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lichenes · 2 days
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Nasty Dog
This one is for @kennedyabraxas123 :D They requested: "idk if u did this maybe like a cute little human doing cute things w a big scary monster and they know that they could kill tjem super easily but they still love them and everything despite the strength/size difference" and ofc I couldn't refuse<3 Nothing like good ol' size difference istg. The monster of choice is a werewolf. If we're going classic, we're going classic. I love running errands with people so I decided this would be a great prompt lol?? IDK I can re-write this if you want kennedy cuz this ain't my best work :3! HOPEFULLY there aren't that many incosistencies dude cuz-
CW: SIZE DIFFERENCE!!!, established relationship, vulnerabilty???, (petnames: little one, lovely), brief mentions of werewolf sex, other than that SFW
wc: 763
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Walking hand in hand with him you couldn’t stop thinking about how lucky you were. Your eyes drifted to him as he scratched his chin. The beautiful fur he was sporting was radiating a pleasant, warm smell and the sun was hitting his form just right to make you fall in love all over again. For a moment you forgot where you were going.
The shop was a short distance away from your house and given the nice weather you decided to take the walk. The streets were bustling with people despite the sun almost setting. The produce you had to buy were too heavy for you to carry all by yourself so you decided to employ your boyfriend, who in addition to being freakishly strong also valued quality time spent together. 
He was usually a quiet person, never showing any strong emotions aside from occasional anger when something wasn’t going his way. Today wasn’t any different. His stoic face had his usual expression on, impassive and even, uninterested. You were talking to him as he nodded along humming occasionally to show his engagement. 
Despite his demeanour, he was enjoying his time with you. You were picking through the apples you planned to take home with you, looking for the perfect ones. You didn’t realise how menacing he looked, looming over your much shorter form. You, of course, understood people being scared of your boyfriend. He was almost 8’2” which made anyone pocket-sized to him. 
You walked along the dairy aisle while he was pushing the shopping cart along. “We should get the regular milk this time.” You said putting the carton into the cart. “You always drink oat though?” He spoke up, questioning you. “You need your protein to maintain your muscles, you know.” He nodded, a small chuckle escaping his lips. “I’m not losing them any time soon, little one.” You walked to the next aisle. He continued. “After all, who will help you with your groceries if I become thin and frail?” He put his hand on the small of his back and leaned forward to simulate the hypothetical situation. You rolled your eyes playfully. Something ignited within you. A joke? From him? That was… unusual
You continued your shopping trip with a sweet treat for both of you that he paid for in the end. For a beast that had to chain himself up during the full moon he was a gentleman. 
Once during a full moon he broke out of the chains and scared the ever-loving shit out of you when he burst into your shared bedroom in his fully transformed form with a foaming snout and eyes so predatory you felt like a bunny being chased through the woods, only at his mercy. He didn’t have bloodlust on his mind this time though and after a moment of standing in the threshold he lunged towards you and ravaged you that night like a man starved. 
The next day he, of course, apologised for his behaviour and massaged all the areas that were sore. You mentioned once or twice that you’d love for him to break the chain once more but he categorically denied you access to him when the full moon was in the sky. He was so, so scared of breaking you because he knew how delicate human bodies were, not used to knots and all the other parts of being with a werewolf. 
Your mind came back from reminiscing and focused on the type of flour you had to purchase for your baking endeavours. “Why are you so distracted lovely?” He lowered his face to your ear as he didn’t want anyone to hear you. He knew exactly what had you so preoccupied. Your face got hotter for a moment but you regained your composure. “Cookies are best made with coarse-grained flour right?” You smiled innocently. 
The cashier looked horrified with the amount of items on the conveyor belt. You send them an apologetic look and began bagging your items. Just before you finished your boyfriend pulled out his card and pressed it onto the reader. You insisted on paying him back for at least half of your shared groceries but he refused to listen to you.
“Not only are you stubborn but also extremely helpful.” You said with faux exasperation as he took all of the bags into his hands. “Oh no! Whatever will I do now that you’ve upset me so badly?” You beamed. He warmed up to you enough to make jokes, a rarity for him.
“I might have a few ideas…”
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A genie appears in front of you, offering any 1 hazbin/helluva character to be officially yours to do with as you please, releasing them from the hellaverse.
Which one do you choose?
The choice of a century… Naturally my brain goes to one of my characters I focus on most with the biggest problems like Angel Dust or Stolas, but if this is my opportunity to try and fix as much as I can in a character while also making the character someone who fixes other characters I would be an idiot if I didn’t pick Charlie. I adore her to bits but she’s really just not treated as seriously as she should be, her portrayal in her own show is annoying at worst and kind of boring at best to me. I frankly think my goal and her goals aren’t too far from each other and I entirely get the premise of seeing slivers of good in terrible things. Having a well written character that actively changes other characters and the world around them can be so unimaginably helpful in a story with character problems it’s kind of nuts! I know the question is about releasing them from the hellaverse though, so if I had to pick one to just remove and leave all the rest I might have to actually go with the original picks like Angel or Vox or something like that, but maybe even then I’d still pick Charlie because she really is like.. the backbone of everything. Angel and Vox can be cool in rewrite stuff but when they’re taken out of their stories its a bit difficult to figure out what to do with them because they rely so much on the universe they’re in and the characters they talk to
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greenerteacups · 2 days
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Hello GT, I absolutely love Lionheart!
I published my first fic and have been dealing with some criticism; it’s not anythjng super hateful, but it’s not anything meant to make me improve either. I’ve been feeling sort of down because of it. My question is: have you ever dealt with hate or criticism before? What is your attitude towards it?
I find your work and answers on here super insightful and inspiring! I hope you have a nice day ❤️
Fuck em. Like, seriously, just fuck em. There's a time and place for writers to take critique and be strict with themselves; it's necessary for any artist to grow. That place is with a chosen group of creatives whose work you admire and whose judgment you trust. A rando on the Internet, while they may in fact be the next Marcel Proust, probably isn't. And I was raised to believe that while it's appropriate and kind to pay compliments to strangers when they're performing — just as you'd smile at a busker on the sidewalk, and or compliment a chalk artist — it's not appropriate to criticize them when what they do isn't to your tastes. They're providing you with their art for free. No one forced you to read it; no one forced you to listen. If you don't like it, it costs $0 to shut the fuck up.
Also — that thing I said about artists taking critique? That assumes that you're doing this out of a desire to improve your writing, which, while noble, is not actually a thing you need to do if you're a hobby writer. I like trying to improve; it makes me feel good. But at the end of the day, I do this for fun. I do this because in my real job, I am ruthless and self-critical and try really fucking hard to do well, and you need parts of your life that Aren't Like that. You need parts of your life where you're not worrying about whether you're Doing It Right. And living without that anxiety of critique is, paradoxically, the only way you'll find the artistic courage to take risks and develop new skills. Everyone is a little bit rough around the edges to begin with. (Not saying you're a beginner — you merely said "publish," and I certainly wrote a lot of things before I started publishing! But every artist is always trying to develop new skills and techniques; in the grand scope of things, we're all beginners.) Giving someone blunt critique when they're in the beginning phases of their journey as an artist is about as helpful as screaming at your six-year-old kid because he can't swim the butterfly.
And the thing is, these people will bluster and say "well, I'm just being honest, I'm just trying to be helpful," but like: mmmmmmno, you're not! You're not. And it's disingenuous to say so. Because if you were actually trying to be helpful, you would introduce yourself, offer your skills as an editor/beta reader, and start building the relationship of trust that grounds any meaningful co-creative partnership. People do not just accept random critique that comes flying at them from the blue nowhere. And issuing it in that form is the best way to make them hostile, defensive, and unreceptive to it. Delivering harsh feedback without a context of care and support is almost sure to fail as a method of actually changing behavior, and either (1) you know that, and are doing it anyway — presumably because you want people to know how Terribly Clever and Better At Writing you are, or (2) you sincerely have never thought about the effect that context and word choice have on how other people receive your meaning.
Which tells me you are the last fucking person on the planet I want writing advice from.
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Long overdue Pipeyna posting:
It’s the way they balance each other out and mirror each other.
I think a lot about what Piper said in regard to love and hate being almost identical emotions, neither of which can be reasoned with, and that being why Ares and Aphrodite like each other.
It’s about how they start out resenting each other—Reyna sees Piper as the person who took away her best friend. Piper sees Reyna as a threat to her relationship with Jason. Except that’s not the whole story, is it? Because Piper thinks about Reyna much more than she should. Much more than Jason does, honestly. And the second Reyna lets herself trust Piper, she trusts her fully. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And it startles her, because usually Reyna takes a long time to let people in. But the others join the fight and though Reyna’s eyes should be drawn to Jason, she finds them on Piper instead.
Reyna and Piper understand each other in a way only the child of a war goddess and the child of the goddess of love can. They’re two sides of the same coin.
Piper sometimes struggles with thinking she’s not especially useful in comparison to her friends who seem much more powerful, whose skills seem much more helpful in combat. Hell, she’s outright stated to be surprised Reyna and Annabeth find her diplomatic skills handy at the end of BoO.
A lot of Piper’s character centers around her feeling invisible—the first time we see this is with her dad, whose attention she keeps trying to gain with her stunts, except it doesn’t work. She stays invisible to him. And that can never change. Because once he sees her for who she really is, it breaks him, and she has to make the heartbreaking choice to ask him to look away again for his own good. Piper has a power that literally centers around her ability to make people look at her and listen to her, and yet she cannot keep the attention of her dad, and she doesn’t think it’s really enough to have earned a place among her friends.
But Reyna sees her, even without her charmspeak. Reyna looks at Piper and in her role as the child of a war goddess, what can she see except all the ways in which Piper is a warrior? All the ways in which Piper is capable and brave?
Reyna on the other hand struggles with her emotions and not being able to let other people in. She keeps her cards close to her chest because that’s the only way she knows to keep herself safe. Even when she loves, she loves in a way that’s subdued, because she was taught from a young age that love isn’t a thing that’s safe. Love locks you up at night because you’re a threat. Love is angry and dangerous and could get you killed if you slip up—if you say the wrong thing or move the wrong way or if it’s simply having a bad day. Love is a thing that at any given moment could explode in your face.
She doesn’t even share how her powers work because she’s afraid it might go wrong somehow if she does—that the others will feel like she’s somehow manipulating them instead of supporting them.
But Piper looks at Reyna and she sees right through her, sees all the ways she’s hurting and how exhausted she is, because with her powers, what can she see except Reyna’s emotions, no matter how tightly Reyna tries to keep them locked up?
Piper knew what Reyna’s power was without being told. She just sensed it and immediately understood how it worked and how it must drain Reyna. And Reyna feels briefly terrified when Piper brings it up because she always assumed people knowing would change their opinion on her. But Piper is only mentioning it because she’s worried about how those powers must affect Reyna. About whether she’s getting enough rest and has a shoulder to lean on about it all. And that’s never been anyone’s main priority before—especially not Reyna’s (something something Reyna being raised to protect New Rome. Her powers actively benefiting others while draining her. The way she’s never quite able to live for herself).
They instinctively see and feel drawn to the part of each other that other people struggle to see at all and it makes me a bit crazy actually.
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forest-falcon · 3 days
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The Butterfly Effect
Chptr 17
It's been a while since I've last updated this fic, but here it is - the next chapter of The Butterfly Effect. Hope you enjoy! And thanks for everyone's lovely support with this story. Hopefully it won't be as long before the next chapter is out ����
No major tags for this one - minor angst, whump and a bit of family fluff thrown in!
💙💚🧡💛💜🐦‍🔥🚒
John was torn. Torn between all those who needed him. Torn between duty and love. But, in the end, the choice was easy. His place was on the GDF carrier headed for Auckland, at the side of his brothers and Grandmother.
The post-mission clean up (if it could indeed be called that), the press, and the rest of the world waiting on them, would simply have to manage. God knows, he was having to.
Hauling himself aboard, he gently touched the painted name of the carrier, before finding a vacant seat next to Tam.
"Welcome aboard!" Colonel Casey greets, over the sounds of the engines, and flicking of buttons.
Val had been good to them. As soon as she had a functional comms line up and working, she'd taken the initiative to pull strings with a number of contacts. Phoenix would be allowed the time off from their regular civilian jobs back home to help with getting International Rescue back onto their feet, if they so wished.
It was a unanimous 'yes.'
"We're here for as long as you need us," her words held a warmth befitting her honorary Aunt status. She'd squeezed his shoulder, before brushing a stray lock of hair out of Scott's face.
"Thanks," John sighed, with a gratitude that somehow furthered his exhaustion.
Although it was in the world's best interest to see International Rescue functioning again, as swiftly as possible; it was good to know that people had their backs when the chips were down.
Val made her way to the front of the carrier and a flutter of garish Hawaiian fabric filled the seat.
Gordon peered over the eldest brother.
"Hey there, Bird Bath! How's the head?"
A groan, but Scott's eyes remained shut.
"Gords..."
"The one and only!"
Scott could hear his brother's Cheshire Cat grin.
"As your brother, I feel it's my duty to tell you that that landing was...*raspberry* stinko, awful...I've seen Rigby land better!" He gave a thumbs down.
"Ah, save it! Yours is the one Thunderbird that doesn't fly," Rigby deadpanned, from the cockpit.
"Make him stop," Scott's hoarse whisper is mainly levied at John, but entreats any and all who can hear him.
"Gladly. Just tell me how," John smirks, finally letting his shoulders drop a fraction.
"Ah, don't be like that... Hey, I know what'll cheer you both up!"
"No."
"A good ole sea shanty!" Gordon whips out his pocket device.
"Veto."
"Aww, really John? Not even, 'Leave her Johnny, leave her?'"
"Especially not that."
"Fine. I've got you..."
A moment passes as Gordon scrolls, then taps; and the hangar bursts into song.
"Eurovision!"
Virgil reopens his eyes to the sounds of...wait, is that Conchita Wurst?
Oh God, Gordon - Rise Like a Phoenix...really? Phoenix. This was definitely Gordon's taste in music - and humour.
Virgil doesn't remember being hover-stretchered to the hangar, but it's good to hear the voices of his family once more.
"Stop your fussing. I'm fine,"
"I'll be the judge of that Mrs. Tracy."
"Matthew Eric Jones!" Grandma starts.
"She middle named me! Did y'hear that Mac? She middle named me!"
"Oooh! Now you're in for it!" Gordon's chimes in, clearly enjoying his inflight entertainment.
"I was a doctor-"
"-And now you're my patient. So, unless you're going to sign an AMA form, you'll sit back nicely, and let me do my job."
"Oooh, I like him." Grandma's voice concedes. "Fine. But if they keep me in, you're bringing the treats! And none of this basket of grapes rubbish. I'm talking chocolate and brandy - neat."
"It's a hospital, Grandma." John's voice reasons.
"And?"
"And you should know - better than most, that they're not gonna let us bring that in for you."
Grandma goes to fold her arms, then winces, with a concealed hiss.
"John. Kid. I'm old! Just stick it in a sippy cup and call it apple juice - they'll never know the difference!"
"Stop tryna...get John...into trouble."
It's a wonderful sound, hearing the deep rumble of baritone. Sally can feel a secondary tightness - one she could not attribute to her injury, leave her broken ribcage.
"Eh. Twas worth a shot." She offers up a warm smile, knowing he cannot see it - both her eldest grandsons sporting large foam trauma blocks; but she hopes he can hear the sentiment within her voice.
"Nice to have you back in the land of the living, kid!"
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no hawayek/baker at us nats no lajoie/lagha at four continents…ice dance is over.
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lgbtlunaverse · 10 months
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One thing i've run up against when dealing with fandom and characters making less than ideal choices is that people seem to treat a character's decision being sympathetic, the decision being understandable, the decision being reasonable, and it being objectively the best solution for the situation, as synonymous. When those are 4 very different things.
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