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athenamikaelson · 2 months

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Klaus Mikaelson x Soulmate!Reader x Elijah Mikaelson Pt. 11

Word Count- 3.8k

Warnings- Mentions of Suicide(Damon trying to die because of his wolf bite), swearing, death, blood, gun/gun-shot wounds, smaller chapter but big things happening cliffhanger ending

“Yes, Elena. Once again, I’m fine. I have to go run an errand and then I’ll see you guys at the square. OK? Toodles!”

I quickly hung up my phone, just in case Elena decided to ask what errand I was running. How the hell am I supposed to tell her I’m going to try to talk a dying Damon Salvatore off the ledge?

It’s been two days since Demon dropped the bomb that he was dying and then disappeared. He hasn’t answered my calls and whenever I ask Stefan about him he says “I’m working on it.” Not well enough, clearly, because the Bunny Eater called me 30 minutes ago telling me Damon just tried lighting himself on fire and he needs my help talking him down. I’m not sure why I’m the one he called for this since I’ve heard Damon on more than one occasion say he’d rather die than listen to me speak.

Damon and Stefan have made me keep quiet about this, so no one else but us three knows. Which is why I fibbed a bit on my phone call with Elena. I’m not entirely on board with keeping this a secret. What do the Salvatores think is going to happen when the werewolf bite kills Damon? Just tell everyone Damon went upstate to a farm, just like what parents tell their children when their turtles or dogs die.

Although Damon and I have had our differences, I can admit the thought of him dying doesn’t sit well with me. Especially since he got bit trying to stop the ritual. Even though it didn’t stop it, it did save Tyler and Caroline. Who I guess was replaced by that bitch Jules and some random vampire Klaus had in his back pocket.

I take a deep breath as I exit my car and walk up to the front door of the Salvatore house. I don’t bother knocking since everyone kind of just lets themselves in when it comes to this place. I’m about to call out for Stefan but within a moment he’s flashed in front of me.

“Oh good lord,” I clutch my chest in surprise. At this Stefan’s eyes widen and he reaches out to me.

“I’m sorry, Y/n! Is it your heart again? Do you need anything? Here take some of my blood,” Stefan frantically says.

I put both of my hands up and shake them, “Stefan calm down dude, okay? I’m good, you just scared me. I’ve got to start getting you vamps little bells to wear around your necks.”

Stefan slightly laughs but I can still see the weariness in his eyes.

“Really Stefana, I’m good.”

Stefan sighs and nods, “Sorry, I just…with everything going on I’m just…,” Stefan rubs his hand over his face and now I can clearly see the exhaustion and sadness on it.

I take a step closer and wrap my arms around him in a hug, “It’ll be ok, we’ll figure it out, alright?”

Stefan doesn’t say anything but I feel him nod as he wraps his arms around me tighter as if me hugging him is the only thing keeping him grounded. And after seeing his older brother trying to light himself on fire, it might just be.

After another moment Stefan releases me and smiles at me but it doesn't reach up all the way.

“He’s down here,” He says and I follow him down to where Elijah was when he was daggered.

At the thought of the Original my heart sinks. It’s been three days since I’ve seen or heard from him. Each time I hear my phone ring a small part of me expects it to be him with his stupid posh accent telling me he’s sorry for ghosting me, but every time I answer it’s never him. I’ve tried to distract myself with hanging out with the girls, or Theo, and even the occasional phone call with Jenna who talks to me a lot now about the supernatural since we both learned about it recently. Bonnie and I have also been going through her deceased Gram’s grimoires and things to see if we can find anything on why my chest bled and then magically healed itself, but nothing comes up. It’s disheartening but Bonnie says she won’t stop searching until she’s found the reason. Our time together has made me realize just how good of a friend Bonnie is. She’s loyal and kind and she’d fight for her friends until her dying breath. Which is sadly something she has already done once. I really like hanging out with her and her teaching me more about her world. I may not understand much about witches but it’s nice to see how excited she gets when she talks about it.

“Are you going to be good down here by yourself,” Stefan leans down to whisper to me.

“What,” I question now realizing he’s been talking this entire time.

“I have to go to the square to go speak to Elena but after I’ll be back. Just whatever he says, don’t let him out. Ric should be here soon too. He can take your place when he gets here.”

I do a soldier’s salute and he rolls his eyes as he walks back upstairs. Leaving me and Grumpy down here by ourselves. The door that separates us is big and wooden with a small window that has three metal bars. I look through and frown when I see Damon scrunched up, sitting on the far side of the room.

“Are you going to eat me if I come in?”

“Drinking your blood would be a fate worse than death,” Damon’s scratchy voice speaks up after a moment.

I roll my eyes as I unlock the door and push it open, I quickly make my way inside and close it. I lean against the door and cross my arms as I look at the dying vampire in front of me.

“Stefan really thought you of all people would be the one to talk me off the ledge,” Damon grunts out as he puts his head up to look at me.

“That’s exactly what I said. I told him you’d be more likely to do it again after hearing me speak,” I laugh out.

Damon’s upper lip twitches for a moment and he lets out a strangled laugh, “You’re not wrong.

We’re both quiet for a moment before Damon speaks up again, “I’m going to die.”

I take a deep breath and sit down against the door mirroring Damon, “At the moment, yes you are.”

Damon raises an eyebrow at me, “So you’re not going to fill me with fairy tales about some special cure and that by tomorrow I’ll be fresh as a daisy?”

I shrug my shoulders, “Is that what you want me to do?”

Damon stares at me for a moment and then shakes his head, “No, I don’t.”

“Alright then. Works for me. You know, Stefan called me to try to talk you down because he thinks what you did was crazy. But… I understand why you did it.”

This captures Damon’s attention as he stares questioningly at me, “You do?”

I nod as I play with a loose thread on my shirt, “Ya. You’re scared. And in pain. You think this is the only way out, but it isn’t. And I’m not saying that because of some magical cure. I’m saying that because you still have time left to say your goodbyes and to be with those who actually care about you. Even though you’re an actual hellspawn. I know that this is scary, you’ve been alive for over a century and now you’re facing mortality for the first time in years. I would be scared too.”

Damon’s jaw clenches and for a moment I think he’s mad but when I see him turn his head to stare at the wall next to him I realize he’s trying to hide his emotions.

“Damon you can stare at that wall all you’d like but I meant what I said.”

At the sound of footsteps, I stand up.

“Ric’s here. Try not to be such an ass to him. You’re kind of like his only friend,” When he doesn’t make any noise about my joke I frown and start to unlatch the door, “I’m glad I met you, Damon. I don’t tell a lot of people that, but it’s true. Thanks for bringing out a fire in me I didn’t know I had.”

Damon says nothing and I quickly wipe a stray tear from my face as I open the door.

“I’m glad I met you too, Y/N. Even though you’re a pain in the ass,” I turn and make eye contact with Damon, and even though the room is dark, I swear I can see small tears building in his blue eyes, “I don’t believe in next lives or whatever…but if they somehow exist, I wouldn’t mind meeting you again in that one, Pukey.”

I let out a small sob as I run over to the seated man and throw my arms over him. He lets out a grunt of surprise and after a moment he wraps his arms around me and I can feel the dampness from his tears on my shirt.

“If you tell anyone about this I’ll kill you,” He tries to threaten but his voice comes out strained so it doesn’t hold much punch.

“Ya whatever, Demon.”

—

It’s night by the time I get to the square for whatever movie night the town’s having. Elena asked me to come earlier since she says everyone needs a break from all the chaos that has happened. I’m not excited to see how she’s going to react to the news about Damon. But for now, I’m grabbing my fluffy blanket and walking towards my friends and watching this stupid movie.

Jenna, Jeremy, Bonnie, and Caroline all sit together talking as I walk up behind them.

“Hey guys,” I say and they all spin around to look at me. Bonnie and Jenna both send me warm smiles and waves, Caroline hops up and guides me over to the group talking my ear off already, and Jeremy tries to send me a smile but that dude looks like he would rather be anywhere else.

“What errand took you so long,” Caroline questions.

“Oh, Theo just needed some help bringing back his football gear and stuff. I guess the coach has been bothering him to get it back for weeks since the season ended,” I say which isn’t a total lie since I did do that after leaving the Salvatores.

“How is Theo,” Jeremy asks.

Ever since the funeral Jeremy and Theo have been gaming together. When I asked Theo about it, he said he was doing it out of pity and that someone as cool as him wouldn’t hang out with an emo like Jeremy. But after passing by Theo’s room and hearing him and Jeremy laugh and make fun of each other over call, I don’t think Theo is really doing this out of pity anymore. After moving here and with everything that has happened with our parents it’s been hard for Theo to make friends. Even though he says otherwise. I know he has people to hang out with at school, but it’s all brainless jocks who probably don’t even care to know my brother’s favorite color. He needs a good friend like Jeremy in his life.

“Theo’s good. Even though he was pissy this morning because he says you cheated last night,” I admit to him as I sit down next to Jenna and Caroline.

Jeremy shoots me a look of disbelief, “I did not cheat! That jerk! He’s the one who cheated,” Jeremy lifts up his phone and starts angrily texting someone. A someone, who I’m guessing is my brother.

I look around noticing the absence of my best friend, “Where’s Elena?”

They all look at each other wearily before Bonnie grabs my hand, “You might want to prepare yourself for this.”

I look at her confused for a moment and whisper, “Is this about the Damon thing?”

“You knew?!’’

“What?”

“Excuse me?”

“Bro!”

They all yell out and I raise my hands in surrender, “Hey! Stefana and Demon made me keep quiet. They didn’t want to stress anyone else out more.”

“How long have you known,” Caroline asks me and I grimace, “Like… since John’s funeral.”

“Y/N!”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! It just wasn’t my place to say.”

They think about this for a moment before nodding.

“Elena went to go talk to Damon and Stefan is off trying to find a cure,” Bonnie says.

“Let’s hope he finds one in time.”

We all quiet down after a moment and go back to watching the movie, but 5 minutes later I feel a tap on my right shoulder.

I shoot Jenna a questioning look as she leans down to whisper to me, “Anything from Elijah?”

I just send her a small shake of my head and she returns it with a comforting smile and a squeeze to my shoulder, “His loss then.”

Over the past few days of Jenna and I talking about the supernatural, we’ve also been chatting about other things like school and relationships. It took me a while to open up but after I did I brought up Elijah. Talking to Jenna about Elijah, and everything that’s happened with him has actually made me feel somewhat better. Jenna’s been more of a mother figure to me these past three days than my own mother has in almost 18 years.

Out of the corner of my eye, Jeremy quickly stands up, capturing all of our attention.

He hangs up the phone and turns back to us with a nervous look, “Damon escaped and Elena wasn’t there yet so Ric thinks he’s coming here to see her. Ric says the bite is making him hallucinate so he’s not himself right now.”

“Fantastic,” I mutter to myself and Jenna slightly elbows me and shoots me a disapproving look.

“If Damon is off the rails, there is nothing you can do to stop him. Let us take care of it,” Bonnie gestures towards herself, and Caroline and I want to groan at this. It’s really starting to piss me off how the supernaturals keep pushing us humans away every time we want to help. Just because we don’t have super strength or heal within a split second doesn’t mean we’re useless.

“You keep doing this! You left me behind before, and guess what, Elena was still killed,” Jeremy exclaims to his girlfriend, “I’m going to find my sister. You go ahead and try to stop me. Y/N, Jenna, you with me?”

Jenna instantly nods and I shoot a look at Bonnie and Caroline before walking towards Jeremy, “Let’s go.”

—

“There he is!”

I follow behind Jeremy as we see a wounded Damon staring off into space. Jenna left a while ago to go find Ric, leaving Little Gilbert and I to try to find Elena. “Damon,” Jeremy tries catching the attention of the delusional vamp and I watch with caution.

“Where’s Elena? I need to see Elena now,” He frantically says and I send him a smile as Jeremy walks closer to him.

“Hey, let’s get you out of here first, alright,” Jeremy grabs Damon, who instantly falls into his arms. I go to the vampire’s other side and grab his arms trying to help Jeremy with the deadweight.

After a bunch of odd stares and murmurs from passersby, we finally get Damon through the crowd and into the empty Grill.

Jeremy drops Damon off at a table and goes to tell Ric where we are. I’m still holding onto Damon's arm as I watch Jere, but turn around when I feel Damon do the same. And I freeze.

“Y/n, move I don’t want to hurt you,” Sheriff Forbes stands in front of us holding her gun and pointing at Damon.

I go to try to reason to her but Damon flashes away, spooking Liz and all I hear is the sound of a gun and a piercing in my left arm.

“Oh god,” Liz looks at me for a moment in shock but when she looks behind me her features go straight to fear.

A strangled sob escapes my mouth as I watch Jeremy fall to the floor, his once-grey shirt turning red, as blood spills from his chest.

“What the hell did you do,” I scream at Liz as I run over to Jeremy with tears in my eyes.

I strip off my sweatshirt and place it over his bleeding chest.

“Come on Jeremy, you’re going to be alright,” I sob, “You’re going to be alright Jere,”

Another sob comes from my mouth as Jeremy’s shaking hand grabs mine for comfort.

“I know this hurts but I have to keep pressure on it, okay. You’re going to be just fine.”

I can hear Liz call for paramedics as she tries to move my hands so she can hold down the sweatshirt.

“Don’t you dare,” I snarl at her and she sits back.

“Jeremy…Hey! Jere,” I shake my head as he closes his eyes.

Bonnie and Caroline rush up to us and Caroline gently sets me back so she can try to help Jeremy. I sit there with silent sobs as I watch Bonnie tell Caroline that Jeremy’s ring won't bring him back since the sheriff is human.

Caroline bites into her wrist and places it onto Jeremy’s mouth, “Go on, Jeremy. Drink.”

“What are you doing,” The sheriff questions her daughter even though she is not the one who should be speaking at all right now.

“I’m helping him.”

I sit there with tears in my eyes as Jeremy doesn’t wake up and I know it’s because he’s dead. The others must realize this too because they all sit back with sobs of their own. The sound of a door opening captures my attention and I look up to see Ric and Jenna staring over at us.

“Bonnie what’s wrong,” Ric asks as he and Jenna run over to us. As soon as they see Jeremy though they halt. Jenna instantly falls to her knees crying and I crawl over to her ignoring the shooting pain in my arm. I grab her into my arms and she instantly latches to me and sobs into my shoulder.

“I know what I need to do,” Bonnie says aloud as she stands, “I need you to grab him. T-Take him with us.”

“No, no, no, no. You can’t move him. This is a crime scene,” Liz tries denying which has me wanting to smack her. Jeremy’s dead all because of a prejudice she has.

“Mom, just let them go,” Caroline tells her mother and Liz stands up so Ric can grab Jeremy’s body.

“Okay. Alright, come here, buddy. I got you,” Ric says and I hug Jenna tighter.

—-

Bonnie sits in front of us chanting over Jeremy’s body. Candles around us burn hotter as Bonnie shakes her head, “No.”

“What? What is it,” Ric asks.

“They’re angry at me for coming back here. They don’t wanna help.”

I shake my head in denial.

“Well, they have to.”

Bonnie looks at Jeremy with tears in her eyes, “They said there’ll be consequences.”

“Well, he’s just a kid. Tell’em to shut up.”

Bonnie continues chanting and the witch house starts to shake.

“Emily! I know you’re there. Please help me. I love him.”

Jenna, Ric, and I watch in silent horror as everything stops and Jeremy is still lifeless. Bonnie cries holding him and Jenna crawls over to her dead nephew.

I look down at Jeremy and let out a sob of relief as I see him flutter his eyes open.

I sigh deeply as I watch Jenna and Bonnie hug Jeremy.

“Y/N?”

I turn to Ric who is staring at my arm, I watch as he slowly lifts his fingers and touches my shirt. I fight the urge to groan in annoyance as I look at the fresh blood on his fingers.

“Anyone want to take me to the hospital?”

—

“OK, so it appears you’ve lost quite a bit of blood,” The doctor tells me as he tapes gauze over the gunshot wound on my shoulder. I have a gunshot wound. I was shot. What the hell?! Somehow the bullet that killed Jeremy went right through the upper part of my shoulder.

Ric and Jenna had dropped me off about an hour ago. They insisted on staying, but I told them my mother would be here soon and they should get back to Jeremy.

“We’re going to have to give you some blood. Do you happen to know what you’re blood type is? It appears that on your medical records, your mother and father’s blood types are listed but yours isn’t.”

I shake my head, “I’ve never had to get blood drawn before so I don’t know.”

The doctor nods, “That’s fine. We would give you the universal donor blood but for some reason, we’ve had a shortage in blood lately,” I nod along as if I don’t know exactly why that is, “But we’ll take some of your blood and do a test then find out what your type is.”

I nod and thank him.

“We called your mother but it seems she can’t get out of work and your father didn’t answer. Is there anyone else you’d like to call to be with you?”

My heart hurts as I think about how both my parents couldn’t bother to come to see their own daughter in the hospital, “Um...no thank you. I’m alright.”

The doctor sends me a smile, but he looks almost as hurt about my parents not being here as I am. Tell me about it man. I watch silently as he takes a vial of my blood, tells me he’ll have my results soon, and then leaves.

Great who the hell is going to drive me home?

—

I’m awoken by a small shake to my uninjured shoulder. I squint my eyes to see the doctor from before looking down at me wearily.

At this, I try to sit up but waves of pain stop me.

“Don’t move sweetheart it’ll just rip open your stitches,” The doctor gently pushes me back down. But the look on his face makes me nervous.

“Is everything ok,” I question.

The doctor is silent before he shows me a blood bag, “I was able to find a match for you, but… your blood type is Type B,” His tone and words confuse me. Wouldn’t he be relieved he was able to find me blood?

“I don’t understand,” I shake my head in confusion.

“I don’t know if I should be telling you this without a parent present. I could be fired,” He says to himself as if he’s fighting some internal battle.

“Please… what are you talking about?”

The doctor places a hand on my shoulder and frowns at me, “Your mother’s blood type is Type A, and your father’s is Type O,” At the confusion still clearly on my face he sighs, “Genetically those two blood types combinations can only produce Type A and O children. So…”

My entire world seems to come down crashing on top of me as he finishes his sentence.

“You can’t be related, biologically, to your father.”

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fanficlolsblog · 8 days

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THE CO-STAR PART 2

pairing: actress!reader x jenna ortega

summary: the day after a tense kiss scene, Y/N and jenna ortega face awkwardness on set. jenna's avoidance creates discomfort, but a heartfelt conversation helps clarify the situation. jenna reveals she's dealing with personal issues, easing the tension and allowing them to start rebuilding their professional rapport.

warnings: personal and professional tension, emotion discomfort and awkwardness, strained relationships and personal issues which are not implied.

part 1

jenna ortega masterlist

The second day of filming after that infamous kiss scene was a tightrope walk between professionalism and personal tension. I arrived at the set, my stomach a knot of nerves, hoping the awkwardness from yesterday would fade into a distant memory. Instead, the atmosphere was thicker with discomfort than I'd anticipated.

Jenna had been distant since that intense scene. While we managed to exchange polite nods and forced smiles, every interaction felt strained, like an unspoken barrier had been erected between us. I caught her glancing my way occasionally, but whenever our eyes met, she quickly looked away, as if afraid to reveal whatever thoughts were tumbling through her head.

The day began with a quick wardrobe check. I tried to ignore the prickle of tension as Jenna walked in, her movements precise and focused. I offered a friendly “Good morning,” but she responded with a curt nod, her eyes already focused on the script in her hands. I followed suit, trying to bury my anxiety in the lines and stage directions.

Our first scene of the day was an emotionally charged dialogue. As Jenna and I took our positions, I couldn’t help but notice how she maintained a physical distance, avoiding any inadvertent touches or brushes of our shoulders. It was odd, given that we had shared such an intimate scene yesterday, and now even the smallest gesture seemed to be scrutinized.

The scene played out with an almost mechanical efficiency, the rawness of yesterday replaced by a clinical detachment. After the director called “cut,” I tried to make small talk, hoping to bridge the gap that had formed. “That was good, right?” I asked, offering a half-hearted smile.

Jenna’s response was a brief, “Yeah. It was fine.” She didn’t elaborate, and the silence that followed felt heavier than the lines we had just delivered. I wanted to ask her if everything was okay, but the look she gave me—half guarded, half apprehensive—made me hesitate.

Later, during a break, I watched as Jenna mingled with the rest of the cast and crew. She seemed engaged and animated with them, but when it came to me, she was avoidant. I understood, of course, that the kiss scene had been charged, but I didn’t expect the fallout to be so personal.

As the day wore on, I found myself increasingly disheartened. Jenna’s avoidance left me feeling exposed and uncertain, wondering if I had somehow crossed a line or made a mistake. The directors and crew members went about their work with the usual efficiency, but I was preoccupied with Jenna’s discomfort and my own lingering embarrassment.

During one particularly long stretch of waiting, I sat alone in the green room, trying to focus on my lines. Jenna walked in, and for a moment, our eyes met. I saw a flicker of something—regret, perhaps—before she turned her gaze away and took a seat on the opposite side of the room.

I took a deep breath and decided to approach her. It was a risk, but I needed to clear the air. “Jenna, can we talk for a minute?” I asked softly.

She looked up, her expression a mixture of surprise and wariness. “Sure,” she replied quietly.

I sat down across from her, the distance between us palpable. “I know things have been a bit tense since yesterday, and I just wanted to make sure everything’s okay. I mean, if I did something—”

“No, it’s not you,” Jenna interrupted, her voice steady but tinged with fatigue. “It’s just... I’ve been dealing with some stuff on my own. It’s been hard to separate personal feelings from work lately.”

I nodded, trying to process her words. “I get that. I just didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable. Our scenes are really important to me, and I want them to be as authentic as possible.”

Jenna looked relieved, though still uncertain. “I appreciate that. I do. It’s just been... a lot. I’ll try to do better. It’s not about you.”

We shared a tentative smile, the unspoken understanding bringing a measure of relief. It wasn’t a complete resolution, but it was a start. As we returned to our respective places on set, the atmosphere felt a little lighter. We still had a long way to go, but acknowledging the tension was the first step towards mending our strained relationship.

As the day progressed, Jenna and I managed to find a new rhythm. It wasn’t perfect, but it was progress. The scenes felt less mechanical and more genuine, and I clung to that as a sign that we might, with time, navigate this awkward period and find our way back to a more comfortable place. Even be somewhat friends…

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x fem!reader #imagine #gxg #wlw #spotify #fanfic

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alittlebitofloveliness · 9 days

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Misogyny in the fandom: let's talk about it

Not gonna lie, the level of interalized or even just blatant misogyny in this fandom is really disheartening sometimes. There is already VERY few female characters in the book, even fewer with speaking roles, and yet I see all of them being hated on in some way. People hate on Cherry for standing up for herself when Dally was harrasing her, and for not seeing Johnny in the hospital, which bullshit to begin with but also, you can't tell me that if the roles were reversed and Cherry sat down behind Dallas and starting talking about how stupid and classless greaser boys are, and Dally threw a coke at her, that the fandom wouldn't love him all the more for it. People hold her to this impossible golden standard, expecting her to literally be perfect instead of a conflicted and grieving teenage girl, when they embrace the flaws and give a lot more grace to much more violent and 'bad' male characters. It's a very 'boys will be boys' and 'girls mature fatser so they should know better' double standard that I really can't stand. Marcia gets a level of the same treatment, with people occasionally calling her vapid or shallow when the book makes it clear she and Two-bit actually really hit it off, and the number she gave him being fake was only Two and Ponyboy's speculation. But I digress. Moving on.

Misogyny and classism intersect when it comes to the few female greaser characters we get a little insight on. So many people LOATHE both Sandy and Sylvia because they're cheaters, but honestly, how is cheating worse than stealing? (And don't pretend they steal because they need to survive Ponyboy makes a point of claiming Two-bit doesn't really need or want half the stuff he shoplifts) How is it worse than jumping little kids? How is it worse than sexually harassing girls? How is it worse than the plethora of immoral or illegal activities the greaser guys partake in? If we're being 100% honest, it isn't. "But-but Sandy cheated on Soda, who really loved her". Yeah, she did. That was shitty of her, I'm not defending that, but she was also a sixteen year old girl in a tough situation she was trying to navigate the best she could. She could have lied and told Soda it was his and trapped him in a marriage raising a kid he definitely couldn't afford if she wanted to- but she didn't. Hell, she told him the truth and he was still ready to do that and she wouldn't let him. I don't think those are the actions of a completely terrible person, I think they're the actions of a scared kid who did some shitty things, but is trying her best and trying to do better. At the VERY least they're the actions of a multifaceted character who deserves the same level of grace and insight afforded to the male characters. (If anyone wants to read more of my thoughts on Sandy and her narrative importance, I have a post here). There's also something to be said about the poor 'greasy' girls facing harsher vitriol than the soc girls, and while part of it is because of Ponyboy's biased narration, it's clear to see that readers very much took his views at face value. Soc girls are 'good girls' and have to be perfect to deserve credit from the fans, but greasy girls are 'trashy' so it's ok for them to be judged and shit on. Spoiler alert: it isn't.

Sylvia is similar to Sandy in that her cheating and 'loose' behaviour earn her a lot of hate, which again, I'm not defending her cheating, but we need to give her the same analysis and benefit of the doubt given to Dally. Dally is NOT a good person. Ponyboy says this and makes it clear plenty of times. He's a hurt character, so we can explien why he is the way he is, but he isn't a GOOD character. he values loyalty, so he never cheated on Sylvia, but it's clear based on how he treats Cherry and casual comments he makes that he doesn't really respect women. I can't imagine Sylvia's experience dating him was one where she felt very adored. Again, not an excuse for cheating, but I can understand WHY she'd try and take back power within a dynamic and a society where she never had any, and I don't want to vilify her for that. She's also a poor woman growing up in the sixties- the book makes it clear life is hard enough for poor guys griowing up at that time, but it was probably equally if not more hard for poor women. I think, like the gang, she does what she had to to survive. If you can understand why the gang does bad things, and still be humans who can be considered good, you can extend the same understanding to Sylvia (and Sandy.) I think people need to also keep in mind that everything we know ABOUT Sylvia (and the rest of the female characters) we know from Ponyboy, a fourteen year old boy who's narration is INCREDIBLY biased and who doesn't have the full details of any of the relationships in the gang. Ponyboy sees Sylvia and Sandy as these terrible, loose women who have hurt people he cares about, so a lot of the fandom does too, but it doesn't change the fact that by doing so you're accepting and embracing Ponyboy's internalized misogyny and making it your own.

Anyway, I don't think I'm articulating this as well as i want to, and i spoke a bit more about this in this reply to one of the posts on the confessions page, but yeah, I just wish people could accept that fact that if they bend over backward to find ways to defend or explain immoral actions from male characters, but refuse to even attempt to do the same for female characters, they've probably internalized a bit of misogyny they should maybe work on.

#the outsiders #cherry valance #marcia the outsiders #sandy the outsiders #sylvia the outsiders #dallas winston #ponyboy curtis

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goodluckclove · 4 months

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Some Loose Thoughts on Queer Rep (Specifically Aspec Rep)

(Just in advance I'm going to dunk on Alastor from Hazbin Hotel like a lil' bit, as a treat. Mainly the team that made him and what he represents, but still. If that's rage bait for you, I suggest maybe dipping out now)

I have a theory that queer media needs both queer characters and queer genre characters. The difference is very important.

I think a queer character would be a character in a story about their queerness. For some reason the only two characters I could think of are the guy from Love, Simon (What was his name again?) and the protagonist from Rubyfruit Jungle, which should express the weird and complicated relationship I have with this particular archetype.

Queer stories centered around queerness are definitely needed, but at the same time I feel like we're just starting to come to terms with the desperate need for the alternative, which are queer characters in genre media that contain overarching plots larger than their sexuality. Not separate, necessarily (Their queerness certainly influences things), but just beyond. This is more accessible for a variety of artists, which is also the reason why it can be a flop or a massive success.

We get more of this than ever for gay and sapphic characters, as well as some trans folks and occasionally non-binary. It's definitely way less seen in aspec characters, and even less respected. I started thinking this way because the internet is flooded with references to fucking Alastor from Hazbin Hotel as an aroace character and - like - god, I don't get it.

Like you can have your serial killer comfort character, that's fine. But latching onto him as representation for the entire aspec community when he was only confirmed to be aroace through a reference in a livestream and the weakest joke onscreen is pretty disheartening. It definitely reads like this part of his identity was added pretty late in his character development, and by a team of people that didn't seem to consider what the response and reaction would be and how they'd handle it.

I also wish the newest aspec icon in media wasn't created by a team so adamant on encouraging shipping culture above actually respecting the identity they've decided to provide representation for. Like I see it means a lot to people to have an aroace character doing something cool in a fun TV show that doesn't necessarily have anything to do with their identity. Then there's like four other people right behind that person who really wants that person to be romantic and fuck.

And like, yeah, aroace people can do that sometimes. It's a spectrum, I know. But can't we start with a baseline representation before providing proof of fluidity?

I just think we deserve better. Like a character who in the media is established to be aspec, and people are like "great" and move on to fight robots or do magic or whatever. And the person can be morally grey, or even a total dick, but like I'd personally prefer something with a little more depth than Hot Topic genericism.

Like don't get me wrong, I'll take some sort of eldritch horror as my representation, but...make him at all horrifying? Like everyone talks about how he has Eldritch powers, which I know to mean unfathomable and maddening. But I've seen everything he does in the canon of the show and it is both incredibly fathomable and makes me feel normal and sane. Yog-Sothoth this man is not.

But yeah, I don't think there's a solution here besides more aspec artists creating aspec characters in their work. That way people can still like Alastor if they want, but he's not like the only viable option in terms of representation in the media. Let me see lovingly-crafted cool guys and dipshits and chaos goblins and little babies and True Horrors, all of whom have varying degrees of distaste or indifference towards sex and romance.

Do it. We need it. Please.

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing community #asexual #aromantic #aspec #asexuality #aroace #asexual representation #authors of tumblr #hot takes i guess

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marchsfreakshow · 3 months

Text

Wounds And All [Kit Walker]

Angst. A tiny bit of fluff at the end because I'm a bit softie.

A simple nurse. Just tending to a man's wounds, yet he's as stubborn as he was when he originally came in.

Not proof read because I'm actually in love with this.

Anon request! Ily anon, and I hope you enjoy. 💜 I love kit and I need to write more for him.

No one's perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

"Kit Walker? Come in."

He sighed and stood up, stepping into the office. A grumbled, sour look on his face. Kit was fine! He really was! Just a black eye and a cut. Nothing terrible.

"Kit.." A sigh escaped them, seeing the black eye and the cut. "You must stop getting so upset with the guards, you'll practically live here if you aren't careful." The man was dejected when the words left the nurse's lips. Kit was just so, annoyed with these guards. Never leaving him alone! Never just letting him get on with everything.

Yet, he stayed silent. A stubborn man. He was innocent and stubborn. Always this way. Ever since he stepped foot into this asylum. Eyes met eachother, and it just lingered for a second. It was always the nurse who spoke. Never Kit. He couldn't utter a word to them. Grumbling a little 'it's fine.' barely audible. It seemed the floor was the most interesting place for him to stare at.

Picking up a little bit of ice, wrapping a towel around it. "Put it on your eye, keep it there while I sort out this cut of yours." He hesitantly put the ice to his black eye. A little hiss leaving him, the cold going straight to his blood. And an inaudible "fuck" seethed through his lips as his shirt sleeve was pulled up. "Oh...oh kit..this is much more than a cut."

"it's fine!"

"it's not! This is a whole gash!! Close to your arm being fully cut off!" They raised their voice slightly as Kit retorted loudly. He stared up at the nurse with anger and nothing but furrowed eyebrows. "How can you be so naïve to your pains?!"

"Cause it ain't fuckin' important!"

"YES IT IS! YOU ARE HURT KIT." The nurse had the final word, and he shut himself up after that. "Now I'm going to take your shirt off. Don't argue with me." Their tone was harsh, brash, and very annoyed. Clearly, the both of them just wanting this over with. His shirt was removed, and their fingers touched around the wound as gently as possible. Each touch, a sting to the man.

Eventually, the iodine went on. Hiss and seeth...one after the other. "I know, it hurts Kit. I know...just, I'll do this quickly." Their voice was quiet as they worked on cleaning the gash, taking away as much blood as possible. Silence filled the nurses office, only tiny little noises from the both of them breaking the quiet occasionally.

"do ya have to be so slow?"

"yes? A gash this big needs precision, Kit. I can't willy-nilly it all I like. And you can't keep doing this."

An exasperated sigh left Kit, too tired to argue any further. Their eyes met again. Another blow up maybe? Another metaphorical explosion of words jabbed at eachother? "Fine. Just...jesus." oh. A quiet agreement. The nurse nodded and continued their work. Such a big stitch went across most of his arm, and it looked jarring. Too jarring for the inmate to look at.

"Why'd you always do this..?" They looked up, needle in hand, and the other on Kit's arm. But he looked disinterested. Annoyed, bored, tired. More and more of these disheartening feelings bubbling up. "Kit?"

"You know why. I ain't explaining it again." Again with the mumbles! He was louder, could be louder. Anxiety and scared feelings turned into violence and a loud mouth. They knew exactly what the problem was. The real problem. Could they do anything? Not without losing their whole life. "Missin' Alma too much to care."

"Do you believe she's still alive?"

"I know she fucking is! I know what I saw nurse!!"

"Alright! Alright! I was just askin!! You're so stubborn Kit."

Soon enough, a few layers of bandages wrapped around his arm. Pinning it in place. "...I'm just worried Kit.."

"You don't need to be." The both of them, slipping his shirt back on as he placed the ice down on the table of tools next to him. Another little cringe as his arm went through the sleeve. "Fuckin'..." He huffed letting his arm drop onto his lap. Just to save any more pain to his arm, the nurse re did the buttons on the shirt. Their face so close... breathing was starting to get heavy but they ignored it. Kit was an inmate still, and a married man. Potienally.

"y-ya have to do that for me? I got workin hands.."

"yes." They stood up as if nothing had happened and started cleaning away. And Kit took this opportunity to also stand, and start to walk off. But a hitched breath and hand in theirs before he could step out of the office doors. "I'd do more...if I could. You know that right?"

A small smile. Maybe, after a few weeks of being in such a place. His heart, starting to stir in a direction. His thumb gently rubbed over their hand for a second. "...I know." He mentioned, before stepping out of the office, back to that nasty reality of the asylum.

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tag: @babygorewhore @taintandviolent @nahoyasboyfriend / @yandereunsolved @carniv0reev @slutforgarlogan / @slvt4jamesmarch

#ahs #evan peters #american horror story #kit walker #kit walker x reader #kit walker x you #Asylum #ahs asylum #ahs fic #ahs imagine #x reader #angst #fluff #American horror story asylum

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usermakki · 2 years

Text

· ₊ ⊹ · ₊ ⊹ · ᴀᴠᴀᴛᴀʀ ᴍᴇɴ + ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ & ʀᴇᴀꜱꜱᴜʀᴀɴᴄᴇ ;

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ; neteyam, lo’ak, tsu’tey, jake, ao’nung, rotxo x reader

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ; mentions of insecurities + depressive bouts/mood, hurt/comfort, fluff, bad coping mechanisms, established relationship, na'vi!reader, human!reader, dreamwalker!jake, lowercase intended, and i think that’s it

ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ ; pov by ariana grande

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ ; first of all, i've reached 200+ followers and this is my thank you gift for each and every one of you! thank you so much, for liking and keeping up with my content!! on another note, this post was completely unscripted, an anon sent me an ask regarding this theme and i just went apeshit lol. to that anon, you're the best <3

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

・・・・・・ ɴᴇᴛᴇʏᴀᴍ

﹒ɞ comfort it doesn't take much for neteyam to pick up on your gloomy mood. he's well acquaintanced with your coping tendencies and is quick to pick up when you start closing off to deal with your insecurities. he notices all the telling signs—how you keep hugging yourself, trying to appear smaller, the constant change to your appearance, straying away from crowds and even going so far as to avoid him. your absence being the biggest giveaway, considering that he's so used to having you near. and the moment you start to stray off, he's hot in your trail. whatever your response is, neteyam has no problem accommodating you. he can hug you as you cry yourself to sleep, stroke your hair, sit by your side, and listen to you rant for hours, if you wish for him to stay. if you're the type of person who deals with things on your own, he'll make sure to take care of you from afar; leaving sliced fruits by your bed for when you wake up, leading any loud and nosy person away from your safe space, putting your medicine within your reach. even if the sight of your suffering becomes unbearable, he'll still give you all the space you need until you're ready to be approached.

﹒ɞ reassurance "hey, what does that matter anyway? you're the prettiest person in my eyes." neteyam will try to reassure you in all the ways he knows how; complimenting your new hairstyle, respectfully showing you off to his friends and the elders, partaking in whatever palliative hobbies you enjoy and even taking the time out of his busy day to check up on you from time to time. “my eyes have never strayed from you since the day i met you, my star. nothing that you say will make me love you any less.” he's willing to do anything to ensure your well-being. “i’ll even let you play with my tail. ouch! just don’t pull it.”

ㅤ

・・・・・・ ʟᴏ’ᴀᴋ

﹒ɞ comfort for someone who spends most of his free time crowding you and dragging you in multiple different directions, in search of a new feat that will somehow end in him, or both of you in trouble, you'd think that lo'ak would be quicker to notice your disheartening state. perhaps sometimes it might take you approaching him to vent for him to notice, but that doesn't mean he's not attentive to your humor changes. he is perceptive, only a bit slow on cognizance. nevertheless, lo'ak takes a very straightforward approach, not very talkative, as he relies heavily on actions to do the talking. the moment he realizes you falling behind your friend group, your gaze lost in the distance, not participating in the conversations and, the most significatory indicator of your mood in his eyes, making degrading comments and jokes at your own expanse, he excuses you both from where you are and takes you some place you can let it all out without the concern of prying eyes. lo'ak will let you scream and cry it out for as long as you need. he'll stand to the side, occasionally offering praises and witty remarks, as you manage your dejection in whatever way you wish. lo'ak might not know the right words to comfort you with, but he won't ever let you go through it on your own. plus, he might get a good laugh out of you, and that's a great win on his book.

﹒ɞ reassurance “come on, i’ll show you something cool.” does a race, tug of war, or any physically demanding activity to release a bunch of chemicals sounds appealing to you? then he's your guy. “you’re the coolest, most intelligent person i know. if there’s someone who can do this, it’s you.” not to say he won't offer you a few words of consolation, on the contrary, they might sound clumsy and not very effective, but if you look past that, you'll still find comfort in lo'ak either way. “you’re always teaching me things, and if you can get me to understand simple concepts, you can do anything.”

ㅤ

・・・・・・ ᴛꜱᴜ’ᴛᴇʏ

﹒ɞ comfort tsu'tey is another one who's very in tune with your humor changes. he can tell straight away when your mood shifts, there's no way to hide it with this one. he takes notice of you side-stepping around the village, keeping less time in the training grounds with him and more time around the scientists in the biolab. at first, he lets it fester, respecting your space and expecting you to come to him first because despite recognizing the signals, he's fairly awkward to approach you on this matter. but your attitudes get more drastic as the days pass; initially, you're merely keeping to yourself during social gatherings, only talking when spoken to, head low and eyes downcast, but then you stop showing up altogether. and tsu'tey still sees glimpses of you, skirting around the edges of the forest, avoiding him, it seems. tsu'tey doesn't let it drag any longer, he ambushes you before you can hide away, and takes you to the clearing you regularly spend your time together. despite wanting to force any kind of information out of you, he takes the easier approach and gently coaxes you into speaking up, mindful not to sound too harsh or eager. if you still won't budge, he'll suggest some ways to blow off your steam, offer to spar, or come along in an invigorating banshee flight, but he won't dare make this moment about himself. tsu'tey won't let you wallow in your misery for long.

﹒ɞ reassurance “hey, you’ve been doing well, and you’ve come far. i’m proud of you.” depending on what stage of your relationship you are with him, tsu'tey might vary between a constipated and gentle approach. but either way, he'll make sure to advise you to the best of his capabilities. “i won’t let anything happen to you, you’re safe here with me.” you might even be able to pull some praise out of him if you play your cards right. “you’ve shown me what true strength is. your character is unlike anyone i’ve known.”

ㅤ

・・・・・・ ᴊᴀᴋᴇ

﹒ɞ comfort life as a human on pandora isn't easy, and jake recognizes that, so it's no surprise to you when he detects your depressing mood. you can try to mask it; by keeping up with your friends' quips and shenanigans, picking up different hobbies and activities to throw them off the fact you've been locking yourself away in your bunker for hours, and avoiding any talk concerning your mental and physical health. but jake is perceptive, that's one of the many things you grew to love and hate about him, try all you might, but you can't get him off your trail once he picks up on something shady. he starts by approaching you separately from everyone else, having more one-on-ones with you, then he switches to keeping you company during all of your meals, and he doesn't leave until he can see the bottom of your plate. jake makes sure to always be on standby if you ever need a shoulder to cry on or an ear to vent into, and he'll tell you that much, he just slips those words inconspicuously during one of your talks, and he makes it sound so easy that you just give in. do you need him to beat the disrespect out of someone? or to cuddle you until you fall asleep? no need to tell him twice, all you've got to do is ask. and he'll keep you company even after all it's said and done, as a reminder that he's there and he doesn't plan on going anywhere. he's just in reach for whenever you need him.

﹒ɞ reassurance “breath in, just like that. you’re doing great, sweetheart.” don't be embarrassed about crying, he won't mind the snot and the tears on the shoulder of his shirt. as long as you're managing your emotions, he's content with whatever you are content with. “don’t say that. you’re not alone, ‘cause you have me.” you'll notice that he has a very good way with his words that might not seem in character to him, but that might just be because he really likes you. “and i’ll be here for you, always. whatever it is.”

ㅤ

・・・・・・ ᴀ��’ɴᴜɴɢ

﹒ɞ comfort despite being distant from most of the people in his clan, ao'nung still cares. and it's because of that, that he makes sure to keep an eye out for you in case you ever need his assistance. he's very heedful to your physical needs, but not so much about your mental state, so it might take a moment for him to pick up on it. he won't know how to deal with your low spirits at first, choosing to instruct tsireya or some of your friends into seeking you out and trying to get you to spill the roots of your problems. he might even send his mother to counsel you, in a last, desperate resort. for a while, ao'nung only watches as you drag your feet around, stares off into space while everyone around you laughs, skips communal meals to eat by yourself inside your marui, comes back empty-handed from your hunts and with your mood even worse. but he can only take so much of it, and his final stroke is catching you crying alone after returning from patrol. ao'nung will try to help you as best he can, but there are only so many words he can muster before he decides on a more physical approach. he'll sit alongside you and listen as you pour your heart out, hug your shoulders and nuzzle your head and kiss you in all the places he can reach. you'll notice that he will be softer and pliable with you for days after, and it's your chance to get many things out of him, be it more cuddles, more pampering, or whatever, he won't hold it against you.

﹒ɞ reassurance “next time this happens, come to me. let me help you.” ao'nung will not hesitate to reach out to his mother and sister on the best ways to care for you. and fret not, he will make sure that you're comfortable and secure with him. “you’re not a burden. all that matters to me is if you’re well.” he'll learn to handle you with care when you're at your most fragile so that you can keep relying on him ever after that. “i’ll take over your duties for tomorrow and the day after. now rest, please.”

ㅤ

・・・・・・ ʀᴏᴛxᴏ

﹒ɞ comfort rotxo is swift on picking up on your somber state as well, as expected from someone who spends so much of his time observing you from up close and from afar. it's second nature for him to always look for you in a crowd, to seek you out in his free time-you are his favorite person after all. so when he realizes that you're absent during outings, meals and hunts, he doesn't waste time in reaching out to you, in hopes of understanding the circumstances of your withdrawal. and he's so sweet about it, not rushing you into accepting his presence or his questioning. he respects your time and your state of mind, the last thing he wishes is for you to slip further away from his reach. rotxo will offer you some closure, and then let you come to him of your own accord. he'll give you time to choose your words and find your stepping, and when you come to him, he'll let you crawl into his lap for solace, and dry your tears as you share some of your burdens with him. he contemplates for some time on the best ways to help, and he'll start by bringing you out to get some air and soak in the sun, then he'll prepare you some food and advise you on a course of action. but he won't let you deal with it on your own, oh no, rotxo will make it clear that your burdens are now his to carry and that you'll resolve it together. you can hold his hand as tight as you want, he doesn't plan on letting go of you any time soon.

﹒ɞ reassurance “just hold my hand. don’t think about anything else.” you won't ever have to be scared again, of facing someone, or of dealing with any consequences, because rotxo will be there with you to make sure that everything will go smoothly for you. “i'll do it, you just stay there and relax. i’ve got you.” and if you can't bring yourself to do it? it’s alright, he is more than happy to handle it for you from now on. “i’ll fix it. it’s no problem.”

(hopefully, tumblr won't eat rotxo's part again..)

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lackadaisy-headcanon-supply-unit · 1 year

Note

Hello!

I would like to request a Rocky x reader (romantic) oneshot. A fluffy one with a bit of spice would be nice ;) I don't really have a specific plot in mind, but maybe something on the topic of affection? Whatever the story, i'm sure it will be amazing ❤

Thank u, and have a nice day/night!

Hello, Anon!! Thank you for dropping by!! Your request just so happened to align with an idea I've had, and... I got a bit carried away, I suppose. This is well over three thousand words.

Hope you'll find as much entertainment in reading as I did in writing, anyhow!! (I missed crafting dialogue for this silly cat, even if it's equal parts shameless purple prose fun and an absolute pain in the neck.)

“Absolutely not.”

The pose of cheerful enthusiasm he presented the idea with didn’t falter, although his grin seemed to by a sliver.

“Aww, why?”

“It’s not gonna work.”

“We can’t know that until we try!”

You’d come down before opening hour, when many of the lights framing the red-curtained stage and finely carved pillars hadn’t been ignited yet in order to lessen electricity bills, leaving the grandiose speakeasy hall to ruminate in a mellow, warm late afternoon dusk. Leaning against one of the pool tables webbed with gilded patterns on the sides, you glanced him up and down in half-lidded skepticism. It was brief, yet defeating.

“I say this with all the love in my heart,” you prefaced the ruthless confession with a teasing smile, “but you don’t look like you could lift a cornstalk.”

“And you have a point! But consider this,�� he countered, gesturing passionately with his hands as if materializing a vision of success before the both of you, and that’s when you recognized this conversation was about to shimmy beyond the bounds of reality. “What wonders can be achieved through the power of love? It can avail you to weather a sea of infernal blazes, crumble ancient mounts to their innermost cores, compel the course of celestial bodies–”

“But it can’t give you muscles.”

The conjurations of poetic fancies promptly shattered, and he gave you a disheartened look.

“Oh, come on, dearest,” he pleaded, all gleaming blue eyes and droopy ears. “Have you no faith in your one and only chevalier?”

“Concerning any other situation… a hard maybe. Depends if anything flammable’s involved.”

You put a finger to your chin in lighthearted contemplation.

“But this… well, I trust you in pulling this off without either of us getting hurt about as far as I could throw you with one hand.”

“I don’t weigh much,” he perked up assuringly. “You could toss me a good few feet, I reckon.”

“So then we should try this the other way around.”

A glint of curiosity hinted he may not have been entirely opposed. Nonetheless, you could tell he wouldn’t let himself be so easily shot down in his steadfast ambitions, about which you happened to be right.

“Your suggestions are appreciated,” he placated upon your prompt sigh of disappointment, “but in the name of chivalry I must persist with my vision. Because I am certain that there is a way, as there is a will, to achieve it.”

He pondered aloud whilst leant against the pool table opposite to yours, tail swishing figure eights in the air as if stirring up the brainworks.

“Just let me think about it…”

A bit to the left, two of the local employment were spectating from their usual spots by the bar. Zib, who had draped himself half-across the counter while Viktor was cleaning it around him, regarded the scene from under his hat with a caustic glance. The smoke simmering from the cigarette he was languidly tasting occasionally wafted your way.

“Looks like chivalry’s not dead yet after all,” he grumbled, the corners of his lips teasing amusement, “but he’s about to be.”

The burly slovak continued with his somewhat menial task in dutiful disinterest, intimidating all unsightly dirt spots off the wooden surface with an effortless glare.

“Idiot vill break own spine vid effort,” he stated matter-of-factly, then after a thoughtful pause, shrugged. “Saves me the trouble.”

“Oh, such searing pessimism!”

Rocky turned to theatrically retort, rejoining your circles from the far reaches of whatever realms his mind had been venturing.

“Well I regret to inform you, gentlemen,” he gave an easygoing little smirk, “that the only sort of spectacle you’ll be getting today is the glorious display of romance’s incandescent triumph.”

“You should heed your sweetheart’s advice, kid,” Zib warned over his glassful of a somewhat suspicious golden beverage. “Artists like you and I just weren’t built for these kinds of strenuous feats. You’ll get a hernia and then the boss lady will be down one questionable bootlegger.”

“Pff… Nonsense talk!”

He waved off the notion as if swatting away a bug, and you pinched your brow in exasperation.

“Waste not such paltry concerns on me, my friend! You see, it might not leave that impression at first glance…” he flexed a bit to show off his bicep then stared at it with a blank expression once it failed to strengthen his argument, “nor perhaps second… but these spindly sinews are rife with untapped potential! Why, you think the Atlas of mythology had trained in advance to support the whole world on his shoulders? And yet, it still goes ‘round smoothly to this day. Which is to say that, hopefully helped by Fortuna’s favor, the release of a comparable innate strength shall aid me in this fated task of carrying mine.”

Despite his conspicuous lack of visible musculature he gave a grin of such radiant certainty it could’ve powered the rest of the lights. Zib blinked slowly, unimpressed in his fermentative, cigarette-stink skepticism. Viktor kept cleaning.

“Albeit I suppose there’s more point in a show rather than tell.”

Rocky stretched his arms in a somewhat comically overstated manner.

“So the old-fashionated way it is!” He then took up a stance and spread them in anticipation. “Come hither, my darling love, let’s prove those naysayers wrong! Leap into the arms of your favorite bard!”

“I still don’t condone this idea.”

You crossed your arms, resolution as hard as the wood digging into your lower back. Unstoppable force smiling baffledly at the inmovable object.

“You don’t?”

“Not really.”

He pouted. Oh, how you couldn’t stand it when those gorgeous sapphires looked at you so coyly despondent. And of course, he was aware.

“You mean you won’t even give it a chance?” he implored, tail gingerly lowering. “Not even if I’ll sooner have my organs be crushed into a fine sludge than let one hair on your head bend the wrong way?”

“Especially not then.”

Patiently, you stood, the twitch of your ears and your own tail’s gentle whipping behind your legs and brushing up to the smooth block of wood being your only movement. You watched him deflate in a slowly progressing manner not unlike that of a balloon animal leaking from a small opening; you could even imagine the characteristic sound to go with.

You tried not to laugh.

“Not even if,” he attempted once more, “it could be a most passionful pageantry of courteousness?”

“More like foolishness.”

Irritated by his snark for a change, you tilted your head in Zib’s direction. When he earned both of your attention by extension the resident nicotine eater, chin resting on the heel of his palm, flicked a huge ear and leisurely presented his back to you as though he’d never cared.

“Just picture it for a second!” Rocky suggested, snapping back to the conversation and taking your hand in his to help transmit the mental imagery through skin-to-skin contact. “A most consummate culmination of chivalrous custom!”

“Certainly,” you rolled your eyes yet didn’t resist when he snuck up close to grab a hold of your waist with an almost imperceptible delicacy.

“I’d gather you in my arms,” he narrated, “a most beauteous royal rose, pooling in your eyes the glimmers of a star-speckled galaxy, a divine black ether brimming with a variegated, dazzling cavalcade of celestial hues… oh, what fair nobility of ephemeral grace, molded in the realms above from the finest marble and ambrosia by lilium-scented, angelic hands…”

His face was close to yours, and your gazes intertwined; you could be quite sure he was just describing what he saw. You averted your eyes, slightly flustered.

“You sure know your words,” you nipped without any real teeth to it.

“I try,” he acknowledged cheerfully, nonetheless keeping proximate. “And me, no more than a humbled troubadour, a mere mortal permitted by Providence to embrace salvation itself,” you made an inarticulate noise of incredulity, “gentle tethering of your mass serving to remind that this resplendent scene is no meager illusion, a cruel trick of the light, but bona fide reality…”

You squirmed half-heartedly away in your chagrin, yet each bit of distance you created between the two of you he kept closing just as effortlessly, drinking in your expressions.

“In rapt entrancement we’d behold each other’s countenance,” you could feel his words on your whiskers, “honey-glaze lusters dancing across our lips in nectareal beckoning, your arms entangling my nape with fervor as you pull me under to merge our souls by way of osculation in the heart of the Earth–”

“Enough rhapsodizing,” you entreated with a wide, mildly embarrassed smile you couldn’t fight, “you poetaster.”

“Now, don’t tell me you wouldn’t enjoy that.”

You exhaled in a burst, gripping the wooden brim you were leant on. Tail curling and uncurling in thought.

“It sounds fine,” you emphatically minced, “but I don’t require it. You know you can just talk sweet to me like that or give me a kiss when I’m still on my feet and you’ll just as easily sweep me off them.”

“But there’s no harm in experimenting, right?”

“That’s… a very dubious statement.”

“Well, if it does work, it shall surely be memorable.”

Across the way, over ornate red carpet and leather seats, Viktor had since taken to polishing glasses while Zib ever-industriously continued to metabolize the establishment’s embalming fluid reserves in spite of the hour.

“…And if it doesn’t,” Rocky proposed the possibility with great hesitation, “as far as I can recall, bone fractures actually heal a lot quicker than you’d expect.”

With the band backstage, that’d be only two direct witnesses to your loss of dignity.

“You’re not about to let this go until I oblige,” you observed with a heavy heart and patted his arm, “so go ahead. I’ll give you a chance to enter history records as the world’s first cooked pasta-based organism to princess carry a whole person.”

You adjusted yourself in front of him at a roughly ninety-degree angle and put your arm around his shoulders. Enthusiasm flawlessly rekindled he took swift hold of your back in return, biting his lip in anticipation like a giddy kid.

“But if you sprain a muscle, I’m not bringing you the ice,” you stated firmly to his face.

“You can’t sprain what’s scarcely there,” he beamed back like it was of any reassurance.

“Well, alright.”

That obnoxious smoke hit your nose again. Beneath the golden glow of red lampshades, Zib had unexpectedly honored your ambitions by sitting marginally more erect, pushing up the brim of his hat to ensure his sight wasn’t failing him.

“Wouldn’t you look at that,” he grunted, pointy eyebrows raised. “They’re doing it for real.”

Viktor stopped in his surprisingly gentle handiwork and fixed a sharp, singular eye on the pair of you. When your clumsy preparations and nervous fidgeting painted a confirmatory enough picture, he set the glass and rag down with a thud, leisurely slapping two huge paws on the clean oak counter to lean on it.

“Dis vill be amusing.”

You gulped at the audience, blooming in your chest a severe doubt. You squeezed Rocky’s shoulder and felt the pointed conjunction of bones digging into your palm without any real effort.

“Whenever you’re ready…”

He smiled at you with those sweet blue eyes that drew your attention like a magnet, adamant on dissolving your worries within themselves. It almost convinced you that what you were about to do wasn’t both ridiculously asinine and physically unsafe… albeit still rather mild by the standards of dating Rocky Rickaby.

You looked at one of the curling, wrought iron chandeliers and sucked in a resolute breath.

“…Here goes nothing.”

In clenched-fist concentration, you jumped and threw your legs in the air for him to catch. He grabbed after them in wide-eyed startlement and as the momentum flung you at him, you prayed.

There was a grunting noise. Something in-between the squeak of a strangled rubber chicken and the aghast chuff of a scuffed, abused bagpipe as every last square inch of air is violently crushed out of it; you’d heard naught of such a combination before yet were instantly able to identify it. Arms clasped tight around his neck you hung on for dear life whilst he gripped your side and thighs in a no less firm desperation, fingers unintendedly clawing into tense flesh. He stood taut as a bowstring, you could feel as much beneath the clothes, though unfortunately nowhere near as straight and with every slight tremble and corrective squirm you feared yourselves tipping over in his direction and giving the carpeted limestone a sore greeting.

Time collapsed to a halt under the weight of anticipation. Cautious in your breaths, wide-eyed and blatantly uncomforted by his palpable quaking, you watched as his rigid expression of concentration strained on a half-hearted grin for your sake to mask what very much still was mortal terror hatching from amongst the shards of hubris.

And then… nothing.

You blinked a few times. Other than your own heartbeat, and what amounted to the whimpers of a heavy wooden chair being dragged across the floor that you soon confirmed to be coming from him instead, all sounds of impending doom receded. You took a deep inhale of the stagnant cave air and held it in bewilderment, knees squished close to one another.

Well, you’d be damned.

Flush to his torso and clutching the cheap fabric of his shirt, you stared on, trying to comprehend the situation. As was he, evidently, with how amidst his tight-lipped yet valiant bearing of the ramifications his eyes darted around the room as if disaster was running unusually late. No gears turn at such a pace however, for when at last the ice in your tendons began to melt in contemplation of asking whether he could move enough to put you down safely or if you should just jump for it, he exerted a small huff of accomplishment and it changed something, because you began to dip rapidly forward. Some indiscernible profanity escaped your mouth.

At least he gallantly broke your fall… and a rib as well, by the sound of it.

The ground was about as soft as you’d imagined when it kissed your limbs and left you with your hands splayed on velvety carpet. You caught glimpse of your audience and, lo and behold, Viktor for a brief second appeared to possess something of a smile behind the bar. Of schadenfreude, naturally. Nonetheless the witnessing of such an evanescent miracle left you nothing short of humbled.

“Well, that surprised nobody,” Zib sneered, a whiff of smoke leaving his nostrils. “We’ll hold him a tasteful funeral.”

“He’s not dead,” you indignantly countered, blowing tousled locks of hair out of your face, then turned to your knight in shoddy armor just to be sure. “You’re not dead, right?”

With that, you recognized that the reason your posterior ached less than the rest of you was his organs still being smushed under it, so you hastily clambered off. Sweetly enough, he hadn’t mentioned, though it may have just been that he’d yet to recover from getting the wind knocked out of him enough to form a sentence.

“Never felt more alive,” he wheezed in affirmation, clutching his torso. “I’ve come to sense fibers of my physique I didn’t know existed.”

“No wonder. Did you dislocate something?”

Crouched over your boyfriend on all fours, you scrutinized him whilst your tail lashed back and forth in acute concern regarding his lack of attempts to get up despite having him practically caged under you. Considering his talent for looking pathetic while curled up on the floor, you couldn’t be blamed.

“Well, all of my bones are still inside,” he tilted his head without raising it to look over himself. “That’s their designated place, I believe.”

“You’re such a twit.”

Bright blue eyes flicked up at you innocently, arms clasped together in a protective self-embrace. Your features softened with a sigh.

“I heard a crack,” you explained, gaze lingering over his ribcage. “I thought I’d hurt you.”

“Oh, that was just my pride,” he dismissed jovially. “Nothing worth the bewailment. Poor thing wasn’t about to survive the winter anyhow.”

That restless, puffy tail of yours came to a tentative pause upon his knees, drawn only halfway up to accomodate your presence as he squirmed lightly in his restricted position. Though the barely lit murk of underground, his grin still shined as disarming as any other.

“You couldn’t hurt me if you tried.”

Whether he meant that remark as a pacification or a challenge, you preferred not to dispute. You let go of the tension in your shoulders however, easing off to settle down next to him and allow him some space to do the same.

“Well, this was just stupid,” you concluded, listlessly examining your bruised appendages. “I have no idea what drove you to something so pointless.”

He carefully rolled up off the ground then simply sat there, blinking at you in a way that betrayed neither any particular discomfort nor the absence of it. You observed him in ponderance. Due to the lack of any concrete signals from upstairs you decided you’d just have to assume the best.

“Unless,” you teased with a squint of suspicion, minding your volume, “you just wanted me on top of you that bad.”

Now that definitely reached the headquarters. When it did, he responded with one of those downright sinful grins that made the notion of punching him in the face sound vastly appealing.

“It wasn’t according to my plan, per se,” he gestured in a sly manner, “but it’s certainly not a development you’ll catch me complaining about.”

“You cad.”

You regarded him with a scolding glare you didn’t really mean but perhaps should’ve. He stood or, well, sat his ground, and it didn’t take a medium to guess anymore what newfound visions might’ve been stirring on behind that striped forehead of his; you only hoped he wouldn’t start waxing poetics about it.

“Could’ve just asked me nicely,” you murmured with a smirk.

You noted the proximity all of a sudden; his nose couldn’t have been two inches away from touching yours. He peered down at you in awareness, chuckling.

“Ah, but the overture's half the merriment.”

“This place has marvelous acoustics, by the way,” Zib spoke out of nowhere and made every bone in your body flinch, “so you might wanna consider taking this somewhere else before our sparse patronage arrives–”

“Oh, shut it, Zibowsky.”

You snapped at him, ears pinned, feeling rather deserving of some soap in your mouth. Rocky got over the interruption with a more careless ease and disregarded the air of awkwardness he helped create in favor of lighting up in triumph.

“But our labour for love wasn’t in vain, after all!” he exclaimed over your shoulder. “We all saw it, right? My romantically inspired exhibition of unprecedented prowress? I must’ve held on for a good minute there!”

“How long did it last, by the way?” you inquired, watching as Viktor continued cleaning glasses. “I was too busy panicking to count.”

“Two seconds.”

Your face stretched in astonishment. Zib took out a lighter.

“You’re pulling my leg.”

“No, really,” he reiterated, igniting another cigarette with a series of clicks while the previous butt laid crumpled beside him on the counter, “two seconds. I was just about to congratulate you.”

You stared on at the sprawling carpet, befuddled, yet the intricate patterns held no explanation for this anomaly. Time does simply happen to slow to a crawl when you’re fearing for your life, as it turned out. Rocky slumped in dejection.

“Ah well,” he lamented, bushy brows descending. “It would appear that my hopes to beguile you with a debonair display could not come true after all.”

His tail gingerly curled around him, saddened to an equal degree. You pouted along in playful endearment.

“You’re so silly,” you ascertained. “I don’t mind that you’re a weakling.”

You took his hand balled up on the ground, enveloping it with your own. He watched in slight trepidation.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

The two of you locked eyes amidst the magnificent cavern of bygone extravagance; the ‘heart of the Earth’, as he’d put it. Decked in hues of crimson and gold and marinating in a mystiqueful twilight, a regrettably vacant wonder of architectural design honoring the arts décoratifs, all the dazzling sights of the establishment couldn't have hoped to draw you away from the one instrictic extension of it you delighted in looking at the most.

“And I wouldn’t trade you in for the brawniest of gallants,” you pressed a tingling kiss on his cheek, “my noodle-limbed prince.”

#{💌 mod rory 💌}#{didn't remember my mod tag being so extra hahhah}#Oneshot On The Rocks #lackadaisy #lackadaisy x reader #lackadaisy reader insert #lackadaisy rocky #rocky lackadaisy #rocky rickaby #rocky rickaby x reader #{feels good to have made something for you all again. hope you enjoy <3}

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slavghoul · 2 years

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Slav, do you ever just get the feeling that Ghost is getting turned into everything it shouldn’t be? I have always frowned on gatekeeping things and exposure is good for a band’s success etc but it’s putting me in the mind of all of the various things in the world that were ruined by too many tourists. Like national parks getting trampled or famous statues being discolored after everyone needed to touch it. You know? To be fair I’m a chronic overthinker but I can’t help but feel like I’m witnessing it (the fan side, not the music itself) being twisted into exactly what Tobias would hate.

This response came out VERY lengthy, I apologize in advance.

To answer your question shortly: yes, I do feel that way sometimes. However, I would be hesitant to involve TF in this discussion because I don't know him on a level that would allow me to gauge his true feelings on any particular matter. If I were to say "I hate it when Ghost fans [blah blah blah], because he would hate that!" it would only be an attempt to justify my own opinion about something, not a genuine concern for his feelings. Implicitly, I would also be shaming other fans and making them think that they are enjoying the band "the wrong way" when in reality, they simply enjoy it differently than me. That's unfair because I have no right to dictate how others should perceive Ghost. Everyone's experience with the band is unique and personal to them, and I have no authority to infringe upon that.

I think the sort of disillusionment that you describe is a common experience when you're a fan of virtually anything and it evolves. There's no solution for it. It just is what it is. The question is, to what extent is it a result of the band "being turned into something it shouldn't be" and how much of it is simply due to our own personal sense of nostalgia?

If you became a fan of the band several years ago, you'll likely always look back on those times through rose-tinted glasses. No other experience will ever compare to the emotions you felt back then, because they were formative and unique to that time in your life. You may continue to enjoy the band, but it's unlikely that anything will be able to replicate the same level of excitement and anticipation you felt when you were first introduced to them.

Of course, it's true the band has evolved and there's no denying that the community has undergone a significant shift over time. If you had seen them in concert a decade ago, the majority of the audience were people in their 20s and 30s. You had an odd kid here and there and the occasional, let's say, 'senior citizen' headbanging, but majority were young adults. It made for a very different dynamic which was also reflected in online spaces in terms of what was being discussed, how it was being discussed, and what the focus was on. These days, Ghost attracts a much wider age range with a significant portion of their current fans being on the younger side, pre-teens and teenagers. That's fantastic actually, I am very happy that is the case and I welcome them all. However, being 30-ish myself, I simply don't enjoy things in the same way they do and I don't focus on the same things they do.

It's very easy to become jaded when that's the case because you start to feel like you're no longer part of the target audience, and that can be disheartening. I make a conscious effort to prevent that from becoming an issue for me because I love Ghost dearly. At its core, it is still the same band I fell in love with. TF is doing exactly the same thing he has always done, but now on a larger scale, obviously. It's not being transformed into anything it hasn't been before. It's a bit more commercialized, sure, but that's not a crime.

Basically, it's up to us to decide how we want to engage with what is being offered. You need to find a way of consuming Ghost in a way that is comfortable to you or else you may get disenchanted very fast.

At the risk of sounding like a giant dick, I will admit that I intentionally stay away from the fandom and don't follow anyone because.. man, it's actually impossible to say this without sounding like a dick.. because I don't see eye to eye with majority of other fans and it taints my experience if I see too much of what others are saying or doing. To reiterate the point I made earlier, it doesn't mean that others are doing anything wrong and I'm doing it right; no, we are simply doing it differently. I made peace with the fact that I can't control how others act and that's completely fine. I live in my own little Ghost bubble, which, although solitary, is a tranquil place. I decide what I want to see and what I want to share, and who I want to talk to and about what. That's my way of remaining levelheaded and keeping the thoughts you describe at bay.

Apologies for crafting a whole ass high school essay on this fine Friday evening.. if you know me you know that I think and talk a fucking lot, hehe. I don't even know if anything of what I said makes sense, probably not. If you're still reading, thank you and sorry!

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k0r3s-smu1 · 10 months

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𝐌𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐨 𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐚𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭

A = affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

I believe he’s more into quality time than physical affection.

He often takes you out to beautiful locations to go cloud watching, or star-gazing if its night.

He holds your hand occasionally, and gives you forehead kisses <33

When he has free time, he likes to have picnics with you and nap together.

He doesn’t really communicate how much he loves you, but you can see it by the way he looks at you.

B = Best Friend (what would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Being his best friend is actually quite nice.

Its a calm friendship, you two don’t talk too much but you enjoy each other's presence.

You train together, go on missions together, nap together, muichiro trusts and cares about you a whole lot; so he prefers to be by your side as much as he can.

He does tease you as well, and enjoys when you get angry and talk back.

You must’ve approached him to become his friend, otherwise he wouldn’t have talked to you.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He loves to be close with you, so of course he would be happy to do something as intimate as cuddling. He falls asleep quite easily with his arms wrapped firmly around you, his face snuggled into your chest or neck. Or laying on your lap, a certain calmness always comes over him. He feels secure pressed up against you, and he knows you're safe.

He doesn’t exactly seek it out, but if he’s really missing your touch, then he might initiate it.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He does look forward to the day he can settle down with you and live a normal life. But until Muzan is still alive and demons still walk this earth, that won’t happen until he has to retire.

He’s decent at cleaning, and its quite relaxing for him. But he’s not too good at cooking.

He’ll try though, and it’s very enjoyable for him when you’re there, guiding him or preparing food beside him.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

It would be a simple “Let’s break up”. If you questioned him, he would give a straightforward explanation about this decision. Then leave. Either that, or he would leave a note in your estate and stop visiting. You’d have to seek him out for further questioning. Either way, Tanjiro most likely noticed how down you were and after learning what happened, convinced muichiro to come back.

Now, Mui elaborates on his explanation in a more heartfelt way, making clear he loved and cherished you, and that this is for the best. He bids you farewell, and this second explanation definitely gave you more closure then the first.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Truthfully, he doesn’t think about it a lot. He loves you dearly but he’s also fine staying with the

“partner” or “boyfriend” title. Marriage isn’t that special to him. If he does choose to marry you though, it wouldn’t be quickly- probably a good couple of years later. (Unless you initiate it, of course) He is a bit worried about commitment, but being a capable demon slayer definitely helps.

It would really suck if he started dating a regular girl only for her to die one random night because some low level demon came crawling into her house 💀

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He can be a little dense sometimes and say offensive things unintentionally, and he might have a hard time understanding why you’re mad because of something he said.

To him, he’s just being honest… but please don’t get too disheartened at him, he’s trying :(

You’re probably his first relationship, he’s new & might be a bit clumsy.

But he’s otherwise pretty gentle with you in both aspects. He knows he’s strong and doesn’t want to run the risk of hurting you in any kind of way.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Yes, he does enjoy hugs! Well, specifically from you. Just like cuddling, he doesn’t really initiate it. But he’s more than happy to if you wanna. His hugs are light and warm, and being so close you can catch his scent- almost non existent, but it's there- Like clean laundry and mint.

I = I Love You (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Not very fast. A few months into dating, maybe on a summer night, watching the stars.

I can see it being kind of random- It’s silent, and he’s just looking at you lovingly. And the words came, seemingly out of nowhere, so soft and sincere. Definitely caught you off guard. He’s always being honest, and it just felt right to him to say it at that moment. From there, he doesn’t say it a lot, but you know he loves you, and he knows you know.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?)

He probably doesn’t even understand what he’s feeling when it first comes up.

All he knows is that he doesn’t like what’s happening. The presence of the other man is irritating,

And he’ll just drag you away from him; it’s not like that guy’s worth your time anyway.

I don’t think it’s exactly easy to make him jealous, but it’s not hard either… I'd say it's in the middle.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Gentle and loving, his kisses make you feel all warm inside. It’s short but meaningful.

He likes to be kissed on the cheek, and he likes to kiss your forehead.

But on romantic occasions, your lips are the best place for him.

L = Little Ones (How are they around children, how do they feel about having kids, etc)

I mean, we saw how he treated Kotetsu- I don’t think he’s particularly nicer around them.

Maybe gentler, but otherwise the same. Nor do I think he really cares about having them.

They’re a bit annoying, and a responsibility I don’t think he’d be the best at.

He’d rather grow old giving his undivided love and attention to you.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Aaaah, it's so sweet! He’s all dozy and cute, and this is the time he gets most cuddly.

He has work to be done, but it’s so tempting to just stay snuggled in bed with you.

He stays sleepy for a while even after getting up, and kind of clingy.

He might rest his head on your shoulder while you cook, still drowsy.

He’s extra forgetful during this time.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Basically the same as the mornings! He’s softer, more cuddly and affectionate.

Definitely looks forward to sleeping with you, or having a relaxing drink of tea with you to

settle down before going to bed.

Prefers to spoon you then the other way around, though he also likes laying on your chest

And listening to your heartbeat. (he thinks your boobs are comfy.)

He falls asleep relatively quickly, but awakens easily if you move. Not that you can…he won't let you go.

Part 2

#muichiro tokito #muichiro fluff #muichiro x reader #muichiro x reader fluff #sfw muichiro #muichiro sfw alphabet #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny fluff #demon slayer fluff

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losersimonriley · 8 months

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I know some of us like to pepper Gaelic endearments into our ghostsoap from time to time and I thought hey! Maybe I should finally share my little headcanon as to how Soap even came about knowing the language in the first place:

I like to think that his granny (who raised him and his siblings) was from the Inner Hebrides and grew up using it. She moved to the lowlands after marrying, became a Gaelic-medium teacher. Thus, Soap attended the school she taught at and had a Gaelic-medium education throughout primary. (Gme students are taught completely in Gaelic from p1-p3 with English being incorporated later.) While not continuing it in secondary, he still had a fluent adult at home keeping the language fresh in his mind. That’s. The bare bones of it anyway.

Anyway I wanted to share this because I’ve seen the occasional person say it’s ridiculous to suddenly see him speaking Gaelic in fics (which is a very fair point of course. few people are immersed in it, it remains a threatened language) but the thought of someone who wanted to include it in their work who then might not because of this is disheartening. Should they do the proper research beforehand, it is plausible when given the right ingredients.

It’s a language that should be celebrated, not discouraged, especially given the history. Having a character know it just really depends on the different factors you throw into their backstory. Even if the author doesn’t explain it, it should then be up to the reader to assume he’s not just pulling the language out of thin air. Idk, if call of duty fanfic of all things can expose people to Gàidhlig and garner interest in some to learn a bit of the language, I just. That is a good thing

#john soap mactavish #cod military propaganda but make it cod fanfic Gaelic propaganda #of course it depends on his family too like. if someone had him having grown up in an absusive household like ghost but put into a gme #that would give a bit of pause to the reader bc a arent who doesn’t care likely wouldn’t put their child into an education that requires #more work from them #that being said it’s possible he could’ve learned it from a fluent family member depending on how often he was around them #let us not forget that soap is extremely smart #I guess what I’m trying to say is if you feel like you have to have an explaination this is what I do #by no means am I the authority on Gaelic language I’m still a novice after years of off and on learning but I think exposure when done #correctly is really special and has the potential to interest readers who might’ve otherwise never even heard of the language #my headcanons #anon if youre out there…we’ll it’s not more of ghost’s family hcs but it’s something!

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silverbladexyz · 2 years

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Hello anon! I love this idea, and it was quite nice to write! This is in the form of hcs, I hope you don’t mind!

The images used are not mine. They belong to their original owners.

TW: None

Dazai, Chuuya and Kunikida with an S/O who is professional at work but their apartment screams cuteness

-Dazai finds you a lot like Kunikida when you were at work. He would tease you occasionally for it, but you didn’t seem to care

-He does ask you to take breaks, though. Not in a direct way; he’ll imply it through saying things like ‘Y/N~, do you want to check out this new restaurant that just opened with me?’

-Dazai does find it a bit disheartening that you were so serious at work. He wants and needs attention from you always, even when you were busy doing paperwork! Will definitely cling to you and whine, but he also knows that you prioritize work and wouldn’t bother you as much as he bothers Kunikida

-You definitely scold him sometimes for his silly antics, but you still love him anyways

-Dazai doesn’t judge how seriously you took your job. He loves you, and secretly respects how much hard work and passion you put into work

-However, one day, your whole other side was revealed to him

-You had left work early, complaining of a headache, so you decided to take the rest of the day off. At the end of the day, Dazai noticed that you had forgotten to take your jacket, so he decided to pay you a visit for the first time at your apartment

-Literally picks the lock. Don’t ask how he did it; Dazai never reveals his tricks

-When he steps foot into your apartment, he is shocked

-The walls were a nice pastel colour, with fairy lights shining and all sorts of cute and comfortable furniture. Plushies were placed neatly around on the couch, creating a cosy and cute atmosphere

-Dazai did not expect this from you. Already, his mind had deduced that this was most likely one of your ways for coping with stuff going on in your life. Afterall, you definitely didn’t seem like the type to have a cute apartment just for fun

-You walked into the lounge, and you were not expecting Dazai to be standing there, looking at the cute decorations and aesthetics

-You braced yourself for the teasing, however, Dazai only looked at you with soft eyes and assured you that he was here for you and willing to hear you out. That caused you to nearly break down, and you started to explain

-When Dazai hears that it’s how you cope with stuff that affects you mentally, he doesn’t judge. He simply observes you, and he definitely doesn’t tease you as much before

-Whenever he sees you stressed or anxious about work, Dazai will simply come up to you and do some small physical action to help calm you down, and to remind you that he was there for you. You couldn’t be more thankful for him

-Also reminds you to take breaks (he also joins you on your breaks so he can slack off from work xD Kunikida is not pleased)

-Dazai finds your apartment cute, just like you. He might even decorate his apartment the same way because he wanted to match with you <333

Chuuya:

-You were quite serious and professional when it came to your job in the Port Mafia. It was a quality that was essential for the job, and it was one many respected

-Perhaps that was what drew Chuuya to you. Your unwavering determination, your drive to be hard working, and your undying passion was what made him fall for you

-Nevertheless, Chuuya was a bit concerned sometimes, since he never saw you catch a break. All of your missions and paperwork were completed to the top quality, and even in your spare time you were busy training your skills for the next mission

-Chuuya would also ask you to take breaks sometimes. You listen, since he was an executive and because you knew he wanted the best for you, but other times you still secretly do your work when he wasn’t looking

-One day, you had a really big mission coming up soon, and it was no easy one. You did look a bit stressed, and Chuuya decided to pay you a visit to see how you were faring

-Legit kicks your door down. Don’t worry, he’s rich so he’ll be able to pay for the damage later

-However, once entering, he is surprised to see fairy lights, plushies and cute little trinkets placed everywhere. The entire apartment screamed ‘cuteness’ and there was almost no trace of your usual work self

-Chuuya was startled by your presence, and you demand an explanation on why he was standing there with the door kicked down. He barely manages to form a reply, but he tentatively asks if you were alright

-Normally, you would’ve brushed it off with a ‘I’m fine’, but you were just too stressed. Everything came gushing out, how stressed and anxious you were about work, the high expectations, and this was how you coped. Chuuya listened, and he didn’t judge

-Afterwards, he holds you and tries his best to comfort you. And it works much better than how much your apartment helps you to cope

-You were now more relaxed during work, still maintaining your professional aura, but you didn’t try to overwork yourself as much anymore

-You and Chuuya often remind each other to take breaks <333 and often these breaks would lead to dates after work <3

Kunikida:

-Kunikida admired your professionalism and your hard-working personality. You were the ideal employee in his eyes, and it was refreshing to talk and spend time with you rather than Dazai

-But sometimes, you were working a bit too much. He was a bit concerned, but he trusted that you were able to handle it yourself, so he didn’t really tell you to take breaks

-The Agency actually got you guys together, since you two were very much alike. Dazai mostly planned it all, but you didn’t really complain about it since you did like Kunikida a lot

-One day, Kunikida noticed that you weren’t in the office. That was already suspicious to him, because you never skipped a day of work

-He literally rushes out of the door after his shift ends and runs to your apartment, hoping that nothing bad had happened to you

-Kunikida kicks your door open, but what he saw made him surprised

-Plushies! Fairy lights! Stickers! Cute animal pictures! They’re everywhere in your apartment and Kunikida can not comprehend that this really was you

-At the sound of your door opening, you rush into the living room, only to be met by a stunned Kunikida. He quickly apologises and explains that he was worried about you. Afterwards, he comments that he was surprised because this didn’t seem like you

-After staring at him silently for a while, you reluctantly tell him that this was your way of coping with work-related stress and problems

-Kunikida listens to all of this silently, with an almost unreadable expression on his face. He then does that signature pushing-his-glasses-up-a-bit-with-his-finger move and flips open his book of ideals

-He shows the page to you, and hell- there was enough dot points in there to cope with stress and other stuff that he could write his own book

-From then on, your relationship with him couldn’t have gotten any better; he always reminds you to take breaks, always checks in on you, and would even (grudgingly) buy you a new plushie if you wanted one

-He loves it when you scold Dazai for his antics at work

@ashthemadwriter @pixyys @i-just-like-goats @pianotross @the-mourning-stars @fi-nn-losofia

#bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #dazai x reader #chuuya x reader #kunikida x reader #bsd x y/n #bsd x you #silverbladexyz

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anxiousnerdwritings · 2 years

Note

okay but Wade and Venessa would be the only ones that actually treated Mutant!Reader like a person

yeah, sometimes Wade can get a bit carried away but when does Wade not get a bit carried away? and Venessa is always there to reign him in so he doesn’t push the reader away like the x-men or the avengers did

and you know it just pains them see the three of them forming a real familial bond in some random run down house with Blind Al and occasionally Dopinder or Weasel whilst they’re all spying from various windows or bushes because the reader’s powers keep them at a healthy distance

The X-men and the Avengers just being completely perplexed with the fact that the Reader would willingly stay with Deadpool. Like, what are they doing wrong for the Reader not to like them? Meanwhile, Wade and Vanessa being pretty chill and overall good parents to the Reader, giving them space and not smothering them like the X-men and Avengers had. Sure Wade goes over the top more times then not but that’s just how he is and honestly the Reader kinda digs his chaotic personality.

I could see Wade allowing Domino and Cable to be the Reader’s aunt and uncle respectively. Just imagining the X-men spying on the Reader with Wade and Vanessa only to see Domino and Cable pull up, being happily let into the family’s makeshift home and made a part of the family is so frustrating and disheartening for the X-men to watch.

This may be enough to have the X-men and Avengers desperately willing to compromise and work together to get the Reader back. If the Reader’s powers are keeping them from being able to go near them whatsoever then they’ll just have to find a way to work around that, won’t they?

Also, Wade is very well aware of the fact that the X-men and Avengers are camped outside his little abode and he loves shoving it down their throats that their bby is all his now. He makes sure they have a front row seat to the affection and family antics that goes on, seeing exactly what their missing out on and probably will never get (unless maybe the Reader is able to be brainwashed or mind controlled to some degree).

#anxious answers #yandere wade wilson #yandere deadpool #yandere x men #yandere avengers #yandere x-men concept #yandere avengers concept #yandere marvel concept #yandere concept

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weirdkpopgirl · 8 months

Text

Friends? | Jisung Imagine #3

Title: Friends?

Genre: Best friends to lovers

Warnings: none

Word Count: 711

Author's Note: For some reason, the question of whether guys and girls can be friends was dancing around my mind the other day. I'm sure everyone has different answers. But it inspired me to write a little story, and I thought Jisung suited the concept the best. Hope you guys like it ^ ^

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A peaceful silence flowed through your room, broken only by the sounds of textbook pages flipping and the soft scratch of your pencil marking notes in your notebook. As you worked diligently on homework, your eyes occasionally flitted to Jisung who lounged on your bed. Since his arrival, he had been lying there, eyes fixating on the ceiling above.

However, the silence was broken when Jisung spoke abruptly. “(Y/n), do you think guys and girls can just be friends?”

Raising an eyebrow, you paused your work to shoot him a questioning look. “Why do you ask?”

“Chenle and I were arguing about it,” he explained, propping himself up on his elbows. “He said it’s impossible. What do you think?”

Contemplating the question logically, you found yourself nodding thoughtfully. “Yeah, I think it’s kind of hard for guys and girls to maintain a purely platonic friendship. It never lasts because someone usually catches feelings, which makes things complicated.”

Jisung frowned, sitting up in protest. “But you and I are friends.”

“We’ll we’re a different story,” you reasoned. “We’ve known each other since primary school.”

Turning back to your desk, you cast a slightly disheartened glance at your homework. “Besides, it’s not like we have any feelings for each other,” you added half-heartedly.

Feeling frustrated by your words, Jisung mumbled without thinking. “I do, though.”

Alarms instantly blared in your head, and you spun back around in your chair with a startled expression. Maybe your mind was playing tricks on you.

“What did you just say?”

Recognizing his slip-up, Jisung slapped his hand over his mouth. “What?! No, I—I didn’t say anything.”

“Yes, you did. I heard you,” you deadpanned, unwilling to let him escape the situation.

Jisung sighed, his shoulders sinking in defeat. “Okay, this is going to sound crazy. But I’ve had this crush on you since…I don’t know…forever.”

His cheeks reddened when he saw your jaw drop. He then began to ramble about how you’ve always been there for him, and how his heart started beating faster when you were around.

His confession hit you like a wave, capsizing the ship of your assumptions. Yet, as you pushed through the water, you suddenly realized all the time you had wasted thinking your feelings were one-sided.

“Park Jisung, I like you too,” you cut him off, barely able to contain the glee bubbling within you.

The boy’s eyes widened in surprise. “You do?!”

“Yeah, I do. I just didn’t think you felt the same way,” you admitted quietly.

You watched in amusement as Jisung placed a hand over his chest in relief as if a weight had just been lifted off his shoulders.

“So, what do we know?” he asked, looking at you with a bashful grin.

His question made you realize that you had never really thought beyond confessing to your crush.

You shrugged in response. “What do you want to do?”

Jisung hesitated for a moment, before meeting your eyes with a more serious gaze. “I want to kiss you,” he said, panic quickly accompanying his words. “But only if you’re okay with that!”

With a small smile, you nodded. “I’m okay with that.”

Still a bit shy, Jisung slowly stood up from your bed, and you met him halfway. Your heart rate instantly sped up when he cautiously cupped your right cheek. While you had been this close to him dozens of times, there was now a new, fluttery sensation of anticipation lingering in the air.

His lips gently brushed against yours at first, as if he wanted to confirm that you were okay. When you didn’t show any signs of pulling away, Jisung’s hand found yours. Once your fingers were intertwined, he leaned down to press his lips onto yours.

The kiss was a little awkward at first, given that both of you were relatively new at this. However, as you both began to relax, the experience became more enjoyable. It didn’t feel like you were kissing your best friend. Instead, it was the realization of a connection that had been in your heart for a long time.

As the two of you parted with shy smiles on your face, you both agreed that it’s pretty hard for guys and girls to stay friends.

◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦∘◦❀◦

#nct dream #nctzen #kpop #czennie #nct dream imagines #park jisung #jisung #jisung x reader #nct jisung #nct dream x reader #jisung imagines #jisung scenarios

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da-birb-writes-sometimes · 1 year

Text

Driving Habits -Savanaclaw Edition

Can they drive? If so, what kind of drivers are they? What are their car habits?

Characters; Leona Kingscholar, Ruggie Bucchi & Jack Howl

Content; swearing, mentions of road rage & near accidents

Author’s Note; NRC has a school radio for this (honestly a school radio would be kinda cool ngl), pretending that TWST gets our music from here. I get sappy over Ruggie & his Grammy.

Word Count; 500+

Find the Rest of the Series; Heartslabyul, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia

Author’s Note; As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

Leona Kingscholar

*Looks at Tamashina-Mina*

The best driver at NRC. It initially started as a means to get away from the palace; enjoying having some freedom.

What he listens to while driving depends on his mood; if he’s content and just driving around he doesn’t listen to anything, but if he’s feeling irritated he’s cranking up the sound and letting it drown out his complaints.

He has his phone on silent and it’s tossed somewhere in the back. If you’re pressed to get in contact, leave a message.

Doesn’t keep many personal belongings in his jeep, most likely just a pillow and a throw blanket for when he decides to have a nap somewhere. Cheka has left some of his toys from the time he snuck in, so he also has a booster seat since his sister-in-law nearly bit his head off for that.

Is easily annoyed by bad drivers, and will mutter insults at smaller offences. Will resort to flipping people off and honking if it’s more serious. The only time he got really angry and almost got out of his car is the time someone nearly t-boned him.

Ruggie Bucchi

A good driver has the occasional slip-up, but still good. Learned how to drive so he could take care of his Grammy and community. Leona gifted him the car so he can do tasks.

Listens primarily to the radio and CDs (I see Leona gifting him an older car). The CDs were discounted at Sam’s shop, or some of the parents from his community gave them to him. They mainly consist of classic rock, R&B, and ’80s-’90s top hits.

His phone isn’t usually on silent, since he’ll probably get a call from Leona or his other dorm mates. Also, he doesn’t want to miss a call from back home.

He keeps his car clean and doesn’t have many decorations. The most he has is an air freshener and a gift he got for his birthday one year. Keeps any coupons he can find in a ziplock bag in the glove box.

Just sighs to himself whenever someone is riding his ass or otherwise being annoying or rude. He’ll take mental note of the car plate depending on the circumstance and report it.

Jack Howl

Defensive driver and drives a bit slower than the speed limit due to his experience with black ice and bad winter road conditions.

He drives without any background music until he feels like he can handle being able to focus properly on the road. When he feels ready for music though, he probably plays a mix of everything but sticks mainly to something more mellow; he saves the fast music for working out and track.

His phone is on silent, and he is not touching it until the car is turned off. Plus Ace pings the first-year group chat so often that it would just prove to be a distraction.

He has a tiny cactus terrarium sitting on his dash (he super glued it down), and also has some other cactus and planted-themed items hanging about. He keeps a booster seat in his trunk in case one of his siblings wants a ride or he needs to pick them up (even if they’re old enough to not need it, he keeps one on hand).

Doesn’t get road rage, but does get disheartened from seeing irresponsible drivers.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst headcanons #leona kingscholar #twst leona #ruggie bucchi #twst ruggie #jack howl #twst jack #leona kingscholar headcanon #ruggie bucchi headcanon #jack howl headcanon #road work ahead? I sure hope it does!#yes i'm putting car related vines in the tags; sue me #savanaclaw headcanons

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my-writings-and-musings · 1 year

Note

Hello!! Um, if it’s okay, could I ask for a RB Chase x reader? I’ve been drowning in college assignments lately and I barely have time to rest/eat :(( It’d be nice if it included some comforting <3

I hope this was okay, have a good day/night :> 🫶

I know that experience well, anon, so have this and good luck on your assignments!!

For those who don't know: if you like my writing style, you can always commission me, and please reblog to help spread my work! Thank you!

The light of your desk lamp was nearly blinding at maximum brightness, but you didn't dare turn it down, and even made a point to keep it right over your notes for the most pronounced effect. For all the pain it caused your eyes, it was well worth it to stay awake. You didn't dare drift off with so much more to do...

Alone in the bunker for privacy, you occasionally paused to check the time and found it increasingly disheartening, the late evening turning to early morning with so little progress to show for it. Between assignments that were presently due and studying for those that would be due layer, you weren't sure you'd ever be finished with your work. Your primary comfort was in knowing that you'd be able to sleep once it was done, and even if you only got a few minutes before you were needed for something else, you considered that more than enough. Just imagining closing your eyes for fifteen minutes sounded like heaven.

Between the exhaustion and your focus, you were very easily snuck up on, even by someone over fifteen feet tall who made no attempt to actually sneak.

"Y/N? Why are you-?"

Jumping like a startled cat and sending multiple papers flying, you turned to find Chase behind you, servos up in a disarming gesture. Letting out a sigh of relief, you felt your blood pressure drop as you sat back down. Your exhaustion must have made you jumpier than expected, as surprises from the bots had never frightened you so intently before.

"Apologies. My intent was not to frighten you." Chase said with as much sincere guilt as his monotone could carry. Feeling guilty yourself, you massaged your tired eyes to try and meet his gaze without looking like a sleepless zombie, almost able to feel the bags forming beneath them.

"It's not you, Chase, I'm sorry I jumped." you replied as he kneeled down to speak at a more even level. Looking into his optics brought you a significant amount of comfort, which almost made you feel worse about how little time you had for this conversation. There was nothing you wanted more than to just relax and converse with the mech you loved, but you simply didn't have enough energy to split between him and all the work you still needed to get done. It didn't help that your traitorous brain was reminding you of how comfy it was in his arms...

"You appear... exhausted." he said plainly, hesitating before he settled on his usual bluntness. You'd have smiled if your body wasn't struggling just to sit up.

"I've got a lot of assignments to get done, so I've been pushing my bedtime back a bit." you explained, trying to play down your exhaustion while steering the conversation in a way that would allow you to politely get back to work. It was far too tempting to just forget everything and chat with the assignments being so incredibly boring, and with his presence being so wonderfully calming... you had to pinch yourself just to keep your head from dipping under its own weight. You must have been less convincing than you thought, because even Chase had to slightly lift a brow at your obvious underselling.

"It is three eleven AM, that is more than could reasonably be defined as a "bit", by any acceptable definition." he countered, gentle but firm in his refusal to back down. You wilted a little at how quickly you were seen through, but your dedication to your work refused to allow you a chance to surrender. There was a part of you that just didn't like being helped.

"Well... yeah." you conceded as your fried brain scrambled to think of what you could say. Of course Chase was worried, it was in his nature to fret, but you were determined not to admit you needed any kind of help when you were so confident no one else in your position would have needed it. Not meeting his gaze, you tried to smile in a manner you hoped would read as reassuring. "I'll get some sleep once this is done, I promise."

Chase bent down a little lower, getting more on your level and not bothering to hide he was looking you over. "You appear to need it most urgently right now." he said in summation, pushing you into more arguing even as a growing urge within you wanted nothing more than to submit.

"Fair enough, but I just don't have the time. If any of these assignments are late-"

"Can you not request an extension on the deadline?" he interrupted, concern growing more evident as you leaned against your desk to stay upright. He hovered a hand by your side, and you took it instinctively for support, an act you immediately regretted once you felt the warmth of his armor against you. There was nothing you wanted more than to lean into him and let his considerable strength support you...

"I... I wouldn't want..." you couldn't even manage a rebuttal through the fog in your mind, and worse still, you didn't even have the energy to be upset about it any longer. The pages of notes and the spread of open books on your desk turned to a blur as you held on to the cruiser's arm, head resting against him as your eyelids grew heavier than stone.

"Could it be requested on your behalf?" he pressed further, offering his other hand to tilt up your chin. Like a cat, your neck went limp and you allowed him to support the weight of your head, your tired eyes meeting his optics as you managed a single word.

"Maybe?"

Softening his gaze, Chase let out a tiny sigh, speaking with a level of inflection that more fully conveyed his concern. "You need sleep, Y/N."

"Probably..." you conceded at long last, worn down more by his efforts in five minutes than you'd been by hours of your body demanding what it needed. There was no denying you'd pushed yourself to your limit, but you just couldn't bring yourself to go any further with his presence being so comfortable and your desk being so hard and unwelcoming. You thought fondly of the time you'd fallen asleep in his backseat during a long drive, and how safe you'd felt and how deeply you'd slept... There was nothing you wanted more.

"Definitely." he said to finish the argument. You actually helped him pull you to your feet, but when your tired legs wobbled under your weight he simply scooped you up and pulled you to his chassis, flicking off your lamp with remarkable dexterity. Being cradled in his arms drew a sigh of absolute relief past your lips, and it was almost impossible to stay awake as you felt his warm embrace all around you. Chase moved away from your little workstation and moved quietly through the bunker, his voice a distant but pleasant echo that barely reached you. "I cannot access your bedroom, but the couch has blankets and pillows."

You felt the plush fabric of the couch meet your body like a cloud, and when you instinctively reached to tuck yourself in the cruiser beat You to it, delicately pulling a blanket over your body before he slipped a pillow under your head. A final burst of stubborn independence compelled you to assure him the extra effort was unnecessary. "You don't have to do this, Chase."

"I know." he confirmed softly. There wasn't enough in you to reply, but before the bliss of long overdue sleep took you away you were aware of being tucked in and the blurry image of a rare smile, his words reminding you there was nothing you needed to face on your own.

"But I want to."

#transformers #maccadam #tf #rescue bots #tfrb #rb #chase #chase x reader #x reader #transformers x reader #human reader #self insert

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