oflights · 2 years ago
Note
Ask game:
Healer draco and wandmaker harry! Also, fics with the kids included!
*i love your works!*
thank you, dear! that's super sweet.
for healer draco
A: Love it. Spend my time combing AO3 for it.
looove this, it's such a fun career path for him (and harry, for that matter!!). my toxic trait confession is that years ago i wrote a long healer draco series that i took down for various reasons, partially because i was like. 20ish and still figuring my writing shit out. it's still passed around online from time to time. ANYWAY, my point is that i had a lot of fun building a whole workplace world and cast of characters for st. mungo's and so i really enjoy reading healer draco fics where that world is well-developed!!
for wandmaker harry
A: Love it. Spend my time combing AO3 for it.
again, such a fun career path!! i'm pretty easy for virtually any fic where harry's not an auror and i love stories that center on him building a post-hogwarts life that still involves a fascination and wonder with magic, that allows him to keep learning too, so wandmaker always fits that nicely!
for kidfic
C: Neutral. A good author might be able to sell it, but a bad one will kill it deader than dead.
the only reason this isn't an A or B is because i tend not to love next-gen centric/epilogue compliant fics (or namely, fics where the epilogue setup is centered). which is not to say i never like those and absolutely do enjoy some of them, but they're not my preference.
however, kidfics that exist outside of the epilogue dependencies are my absolute jam. harry raising teddy is a personal fave, and i also really love a good draco + kid (EWE scorpius or otherwise) + stepdad-ish harry dynamic, that just hits me where i live every single time!! hjp as the dad who stepped up meme?? that's the stuff right there.
if there are any other tropes you're interested in, ask me to grade tropes! (especially big drarry ones)
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inkskinned · 1 year ago
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you're grabbing lunch with a nice man and he gives you that strange grimace-smile that's popular right now; an almost sardonic "twist" of his mouth while he looks literally down on you. it looks like he practiced the move as he leans back, arms folded. he just finished reciting the details of NFTs to you and explaining Oppenheimer even though he only watched a youtube about it and hasn't actually seen it. you are at the bottom of your wine glass.
you ask the man across from you if he has siblings, desperately looking for a topic. literally anything else.
he says i don't like small talk. and then he smiles again, watching you.
a few years ago, you probably would have said you're above celebrity gossip, but honestly, you've been kind of enjoying the dumb shit of it these days. with the rest of the earth burning, there's something familiar and banal about dragging ariana grande through the mud. you think about jeanette mccurdy, who has often times gently warned the world she's not as nice as she appears. you liked i'm glad my mom died but it made you cry a lot.
he doesn't like small talk, figure out something to say.
you want to talk about responsibility, and how ariana grande is only like 6 days older than you are - which means she just turned 30 and still dresses and acts like a 13 year old, but like sexy. there's something in there about the whole thing - about insecurity, and never growing up, and being sexualized from a young age.
people have been saying that gay people are groomers. like, that's something that's come back into the public. you have even said yourself that it's just ... easier to date men sometimes. you would identify as whatever the opposite of "heteroflexible" is, but here you are again, across from a man. you like every woman, and 3 people on tv. and not this guy. but you're trying. your mother is worried about you. she thinks it's not okay you're single. and honestly this guy was better before you met, back when you were just texting.
wait, shit. are you doing the same thing as ariana grande? are you looking for male validation in order to appease some internalized promise of heteronormativity? do you conform to the idea that your happiness must result in heterosexuality? do you believe that you can resolve your internal loneliness by being accepted into the patriarchy? is there a reason dating men is easier? why are you so scared of fucking it up with women? why don't you reach out to more of them? you have a good sense of humor and a big ol' brain, you could have done a better job at online dating.
also. jesus christ. why can't you just get a drink with somebody without your internal feminism meter pinging. although - in your favor (and judgement aside) in the case of your ariana grande deposition: you have been in enough therapy you probably wouldn't date anyone who had just broken up with their wife of many years (and who has a young child). you'd be like - maybe take some personal time before you begin this journey. like, grande has been on broadway, you'd think she would have heard of the plot of hamlet.
he leans forward and taps two fingers to the table. "i'm not, like an andrew tate guy," he's saying, "but i do think partnership is about two people knowing their place. i like order."
you knew it was going to be hard. being non-straight in any particular way is like, always hard. these days you kind of like answering the question what's your sexuality? with a shrug and a smile - it's fine - is your most common response. like they asked you how your life is going and not to reveal your identity. you like not being straight. you like kissing girls. some days you know you're into men, and sometimes you're sitting across from a man, and you're thinking about the power of compulsory heterosexuality. are you into men, or are you just into the safety that comes from being seen with them? after all, everyone knows you're failing in life unless you have a husband. it almost feels like a gradebook - people see "straight married" as being "all A's", and anything else even vaguely noncompliant as being ... like you dropped out of the school system. you cannot just ignore years of that kind of conditioning, of course you like attention from men.
"so let's talk boundaries." he orders more wine for you, gesturing with one hand like he's rousing an orchestra. sir, this is a fucking chain restaurant. "I am not gonna date someone who still has male friends. also, i don't care about your little friends, i care about me. whatever stupid girls night things - those are lower priority. if i want you there, you're there."
he wasn't like this over text, right? you wouldn't have been even in the building if he was like this. you squint at him. in another version of yourself, you'd be running. you'd just get up and go. that's what happens on the internet - people get annoyed, and they just leave. you are locked in place, almost frozen. you need to go to the bathroom and text someone to call you so you have an excuse, like it's rude to just-leave. like he already kind of owns you. rudeness implies a power paradigm, though. see, even your social anxiety allows the patriarchy to get to you.
you take a sip of the new glass of wine. maybe this will be a funny story. maybe you can write about it on your blog. maybe you can meet ariana grande and ask her if she just maybe needs to take some time to sit and think about her happiness and how she measures her own success.
is this settling down? is this all that's left in your dating pool? just accepting that someone will eventually love you, and you have to stop being picky about who "makes" you a wife?
you look down to your hand, clutching the knife.
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thriftedtchotchkes · 6 months ago
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love like you
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pairing: mike schmidt x gn!reader
summary: mike helps you through a rough patch by reminding you of the many, many reasons he loves you
warnings: established relationship, angst, comfort, mentions of depression, anxiety & panic attacks, self-doubt, intrusive thoughts
word count: 2.1k
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"Why do you love me?"
You ask the question so quietly, Mike almost misses it over the movie playing in the background. At first, he's not sure how to respond—or at the very least, where to begin.
You've never asked him that before, and he'd never given it much thought if he's being totally honest. He assumed you hadn't, either. It's just something he feels.
It's something he's always felt, gradually building since the day you led his sister back to him after she'd wandered off in the supermarket. He took one look at you, your kind eyes and patient smile, and asked you on a date without a second thought. That's what it's like to love you—instinctual.
He glances away from the TV and looks down at you curiously. Your head is nestled on his lap, eyes already locked on his and filled with apprehension he can't even begin to understand. There are a thousand and one reasons to love you; don't you realize that? He'd tell you every one if you asked.
He loves you because you're always there, through the late-night shifts and nightmares, helping him parent a child you shouldn't have to be responsible for at such a young age. You confiscate his controller every time he tries to smash it in a fit of rage, beating whatever boss he'd been fighting for hours like a champ. He thinks you're so fucking cool.
And you understand him like no one else ever has, so attentive and always willing to try. You kiss away his fears, strip him bare, unmask him. Allow him to seek shelter inside you, ride him to a mind-numbing release when his darkest thoughts threaten to consume him.
You hold him when he wants to give up, when the weight of the world is too much and persevering is too hard. The familiar, soothing tone of your voice reminds him to breathe, to tune out the little things and remember that there's still good to be found in life.
It's everything you do and everything you are. That's why he loves you.
But before he can say anything at all, your face screws up and your bottom lip begins to tremble. His chest immediately tightens.
"Woah, hey. It's okay," he murmurs, keeping you grounded in the present despite his rising panic. "You're okay."
You're prone to spiraling, but after years together, he knows the best way to mitigate it is to stay calm. Regardless of the raging storm in your head, you're safe with him, warm and dry at home on your couch.
He caresses your cheek, then trails up to scrub at the crinkle in your forehead. "What's going on up there?"
"Nothing. It's—really, it's nothing. I'm sorry, I don't know why I asked you that," you shake your head, averting your gaze elsewhere. But after a moment, your eyes snap back to his, and there's so much pain there, he can almost feel it.
"No, it's...it's everything. My brain won't shut up, and it's mean and loud, and I just—," you pause, clenching your jaw in frustration. "I just don't get it. Of everyone you could've been with, why me? I can't understand why you chose me."
The question feels like a slap in the face. Like he had so many choices and only picked you based on some predetermined criteria of what someone should want in a partner. He didn't just pull your name out of a bowl, either. You chose each other.
He wracks his brain to figure out what he could've said or done to make you believe otherwise, but then remembers this isn't about him. He tries again to explain all of the reasons he wanted to before, to tell you that the unrelenting thoughts ping-ponging in your head are wrong, but you continue on, unraveling before his eyes.
"I'm a shitty person. I'm selfish and useless, and all I do is make everyone around me unhappy. There's always a crisis, I'm always sad. And I always make everything about me," you tell him, getting angrier by the second. "Ugly, worthless, selfish, selfish. I’m a fucking burden. You know, I—I just keep waiting for you to figure it out and leave. To get sick of this...of me."
He listens helplessly as you tear yourself apart, the ache in his chest intensifying the worse your verbal barrage becomes. He knows he can't just reassure away your insecurities or magically heal your trauma, no matter how badly he wants to. But he also can't let this go on any longer.
"Stop," he says softly, cutting you off. Hearing the full extent of your criticism is agonizing, and if it's hurting him this much, he hates to think what you must be feeling. "None of that is true. I think...I hope, deep down, you know that."
The broken look you give him tells him you don't, or maybe that you can't, at least not right now. You open your mouth to retort, but he shakes his head and hauls you up into his arms. He holds you close as you start to tremble, guiding you to rest your cheek on his shoulder.
"There's nothing shitty about you, alright? You're the least selfish person I've ever met. Kinda wish you were so you'd stop prioritizing us over yourself all the time," he murmurs into your hair. "And you're fucking gorgeous. I don't want to hear you say any of that ever again."
He tilts his head to meet your eyes. "Got it?"
You shake your head, turning to hide your face in the crook of his neck. He sighs. He just can't fathom how you could possibly look at yourself and not see what he and Abby do. But then again, he might understand more than he'd like to admit.
Everything you've told him tonight feels jarringly familiar. The self-hatred, the unending criticism—he wallows in those thoughts all the time and knows better than anyone that they'll eat you alive if you bottle them up for too long.
He hates that you have to suffer through this just because brain chemistry is indiscriminately cruel. It's unfair. He, at the very least, deserves it.
Except, that's not actually true, is it? And if your roles were reversed, you'd remind him as many times as it takes for him to believe it. You'd tell him that he's perfect exactly the way he is. That he's a good parent, brother, and partner, and regardless of all of the shit life has thrown his way, he's still a good person that isn't defined by his lowest moments.
So, he'll do the same for you.
He shifts you on his lap so you're face-to-face, your legs bracketing his thighs, and cups your cheeks to keep your attention on him. He's not letting you hide anymore. He needs you to hear what he has to say and trust that he'd never lie to you.
"You're not worthless or useless or anything else your brain is telling you right now. Okay? You're perfect," he says quietly, stroking your cheek. "I've always thought you were perfect, from the moment I met you."
Doubt clouds your expression. "I don't believe you."
"Why would I lie to you?"
"B-because that's what you're supposed to say when you're trying to make someone feel better," you reply shakily.
Ouch. He hadn’t expected that answer. It stings that you'd think so little of him, especially after all this time. He feels like he’s grasping at straws now, but everything he wants to say is just a variation of how highly he sees you. It’s all equally true, but if you can’t accept that, then what else can he do?
"Then, tell me what you need to hear right now. Tell me how to help you through this, because I love you so fucking much, and I will do anything," he pleads, his frustration bleeding through despite how hard he tries to suppress it.
It’s starting to affect you. You’re shaking like a leaf, and he can tell you want to run away, but instead of letting you go, he wraps his arms around you as carefully as he can to keep you from leaving. He doesn't want to force you to face this. He just needs you to stop hurting yourself. Your face crumples, and he feels his own do the same.
"I don't know. Probably nothing," you tell him, voice cracking. "Look, we don't have to talk about it anymore. I'm sorry for bringing it up in the first place. Can we just go back to watching the movie? I’ll rewind it—“
But Mike doesn't want to let this go. Even if he should, even though you're asking—he's determined to make sure you go to bed tonight knowing how loved you are. His next words come out harsher than he wants them to, but he’s getting desperate. He’s only human.
"Fine. You want the truth? Being with you is hard. It's one of the hardest things I've ever done, and sometimes, it hurts like hell," he starts. Your expression morphs from sad to devastated, and he feels terrible for upsetting you, but he has to say this for both of your sakes.
"But that's what makes it worth it. I've never felt this way about anyone, probably never will again. Not because it's easy; because it's you. Sure, no one's perfect, but you're about as close as it gets. You're it for me.”
He truly believes that. Maybe you do, too. The tension in your body is beginning to bleed away, and you slowly sag against him, tucking yourself into his chest. He catches a glimpse of your face as you melt into him, and for the first time tonight, you look hopeful. Nuzzling into your hair, he continues.
"I can't imagine a life without you anymore. It's like you're part of me now, maybe even the best parts, and I fill in the gaps in between. We just…figured it out at some point. Together.” He’s starting to ramble, but he’s too invested to stop. Judging by the fact that you haven’t interrupted him or tried to intervene, it doesn’t seem like you want him to, either.
“Even the small shit other couples fight about. Like the dishes—you hate doing those because digging the silverware out of the sink grosses you out, so I do it. And you fold the laundry because I always burn myself taking the clothes out of the dryer. We talk shit out. We try."
He squeezes you a little tighter. “Maybe those seem like shitty reasons to love someone, but they’re real. Just as real as what I told you before," he says softly, pausing to kiss the top of your head. "You're beautiful. You're kind and passionate, and I’m just the lucky guy that gets to be with you. I’ll be here as long as you want me.”
When he finally finishes, he’s all but gasping for air. His heart pounds wildly in his chest, and he’s breathing so heavily, he feels like he just ran a marathon. But it’s worth it to see the look on your face as you peer up at him, cautious but peaceful.
“How could I not want you?” you whisper, splaying your hand across his chest, just below his collarbone. You're feeling his heartbeat.
"I've been asking you that all damn night," he chuckles. Cradling your head in his palm, he swipes away a few stray tears that fall with the next flutter of your lashes. "So, did I answer your question or should I keep going? Because seriously, I can keep going—"
You snort, effectively cutting him off, then give him a wry smile. The relief he feels is palpable.
“You know, I really don’t deserve you," you murmur as you lean up to kiss the underside of his jaw. When your lips linger, he ducks down to press his against yours, kissing you deeply and pouring in everything left unsaid.
"Sure, you do," he says kindly, but with finality. Now that the adrenaline has worn off, you're both starting to look as tired as you feel. But more than that, he's grateful; to have you in his life and to be able to comfort you when you need it most. You taught him that. "And I think we both deserve some sleepytime tea and a really soft blanket...if Abby didn't already steal it off our bed."
Your face lights up, and it's as if he solved all of the world's problems with that one simple offering. It's the same look you give him when he tells you he loves you. The corners of your eyes crinkle as you say it back.
"I love you, too."
thanks for reading!
divider by @saradika-graphics
a/n: this was a homework assignment from my therapist 💀 oops
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witchofthesouls · 8 months ago
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Tbh Star Saber’s reaction is justified. Sentinel just claims this random bot as a bride (probably doesn’t even know their name too) I’d be miffed too if I was his protector. But what about said bot’s reaction? You wake up after passing out and suddenly your hitched, I’d be backing up Star Saber in the background as he yells at Sentinel.
(You're going to be busy trying to deal with alien biology to start yelling. If anything you're yelling at whatever drop-kicked you into this timeline that's the dumpster fire that makes up Bayverse.
Get ready for misunderstandings and failed negotiations:)
Consciousness doesn't gently trickle back. It kicks you in the teeth without any warning. One moment, darkness. The next moment, you're heaving up and accidentally slamming into something hard.
That something yelps.
While you have the grace of facial protection, Sentinel isn't as lucky. You still have a throbbing headache, though. It flares whenever there's the incomprehensible electronic noise of their native tongue is being spoken.
Your head pulses to an excruciating degree when suddenly it clicks. The noise becomes words.
And you don't like them.
"Look, it can't even speak. Let alone understand us." Star Saber - your HUD factually pings, rapidly scrolling all of his positions, achievements, strengths, and possible weaknesses - says like an absolute cunt.
"Oooooo. Cooon-tuh." The High Lord Protector sounds out the English your ass of a mouth that not even a supercomputer brain could leash have shot out. The Seeker is unamused, and you don't even resist the urge to stick your tongue out since you're wearing the visor and he can't see.
You have a vague sense that you're forgetting something important. The wisps of a strange dream linger in the periphery edges of your mind, but a hiccuping wail interrupts everything.
Nearby and attached to the berth (fanon terminology don't fail you now!) are the infants. You immediately pick up the crying one. The tiny face warps from the force of their distress. Something compels you to cradle it up to your chest, and they settle down to snuffly whistles.
Of course, the other one starts up when your hands are full.
Sentinel picks the second infant to maneuver them to you. You never expected this asshole to have gentle hands, but he does. At least for the babies.
"They're split-spark." He explains as both of them grab a hold of each other, whistling and chirping between a songbird and a hot kettle. "They have to remain close together until they're third in-star."
There's a moment of silence in the room, only interrupted by the newsparks' chirping babbling and fretful meeping.
"Not to be rude," you slowly test out the digital language, and Star Saber doesn't snort or move his expression, but he definitely disproves. Fucker. "But why am I here?"
"Yes, Prime," the Seeker knows how to turn a soft voice into an assassin's thread. "Why do we have such a guest here?"
The words he chose have so many insulting undertones and stresses that if you didn't have your arms full, you might as well slap him. High Lord Protector be damned.
He wants you far away, and you want to be farther than Star Saber could dream of.
Of course, neither you nor Star Saber gets those desires granted.
"You're here," Sentinel’s tone shifts. Formal. Very formal. A strange mix of anticipation and... duty? "In the privacy of my household and in the presence of my most trusted-" Star Saber's expression is set in stone and just as cold "-to declare our sparks together in front of Primus."
Unlike fanfics where Sam Witwicky has the Allspark to handily act as a translator, you only have the equivalent of a more sensible Google translate with all of the additional kinda-helpul-but-not-really dings of subharmonics and underlying glyphs to provide more context. It sounds like a marriage proposal, but the way Sentinel emphasized it is more akin to a 'Guardian seek out an equal partnership in a (business) venture.'
Thanks, Google. Great help as always. Never change.
Unless you've taken over the body of a noble with capital to buy out galaxies or some sort of daring pirate/elite assassin with that ghostly possession of hidden skills, you have no idea why he's asking you for this kind of proposition.
You need to bite the bullet because you don't know what you're walking into, and maybe you can jump out another window and speed away.
You start searching the lexicon for the right words. Hopefully.
_____________
Even with the visor eclipsing your face, you're refreshingly honest and it's something Sentinel profoundly misses ever since he's been taken from the Guiding Hand's Towers.
And right now, they know your possible intention to jump again beneath the tangle of confusion and worry.
The windows here are reinforced and capable of withstanding artillery blasts and extreme heat resistance as well.
:: The foundlings are completely attached to this one. :: Hard and unforgiving Star Saber may be, but there are a few things that soften the mech. It may be the Seekerkin-coding in him that invokes protective feelings towards the very young.
You and the newsparks have sealed a guardian/parental bond. They can't separate them from you. The strain will most likely kill them, and possibly you with your recent recklessness. You may have a powerfully dense spark -a hallmark of mecha with Primal heritage- but you're still young, barely past the ninth in-star, and still developing towards an adult frame.
Ratchet had been torn between absolute fury and begrudgingly impressed by the one that had done your frame-schematics. It's a remarkable mix of stealth modifications, hidden components, and security. Your systems had literally chewed up suppression codes and medical overrides and spat them out.
Either you have a creator that's a fiend of a weaponsmith or you have ties to the legendary War-Forged, too. Unbelievable, but no one expected any frames out in the Wastelands to be blessed by Primus, and yet here they are with not one, but two individuals.
And Sentinel is asking the mechling for a formal courtship with the intention of bonding.
"Are you-" you speak carefully, testing out the glyphs, and he wonders what kind of dialect the Wilders speak "-asking me to bond with you?"
The phrase makes logical sense. However, Sentinel can't help but choke at the subglyphs you used. Instead of 'unity of wedlock between two parties,' you attached something akin to sponsoring a courtesan for an exclusive relationship. An explicitly sexual one.
Star Saber doesn't budge. The Seeker's body langauge is impeccable and beyond reproach to stand as a witness to this mess, but Sentinel feels the icy talons of their shared bond flare to a vicious burning grip.
:: If you say any sort of agreement to that poorly worded question, Sentinel Prime. :: Star Saber's terrible words cut into Sentinel's spark. :: I will personally make the rest of your limited time on this planet a new level of Unicron's Pits. ::
Sentinel had to lock his joints to keep himself upright and not sprawled on the floor. After a long moment, he manages to grapple with the bond to sear away Star Saber's influence. :: I wasn't! ::
Slag all those that deify their partnership as the original split-sparks Prima and Megatronus, it's a slaggen mockery of a marital bond.
Sentinel gathers every scrap of his intentions to make it work with the newly found Primal-descended and throws it at Star Saber's end. It's still a raw wound. He finds it deeply discomforting to be intimately tied to the Seeker upon the confirmed demise of an unmoored Zeta Prime. Just barely after the Temple's blessings to establish suitable compatibility as a Prime and a new Protector.
(If Sentinel thinks too much about it, he will scream until he burns out and -)
Star Saber quirks a plate at his efforts and releases the onslaught. :: Look at that. Perhaps there's a warrior underneath that softness, librarian. Correct your Intended before the Wilder escapes with the newsparks. ::
During their internal spat, you pressed your back against the wall, plating closed to minimize noise. You've silenced your biosignature as well. Even the foundlings are silent -a natural defense that's driven by terror of the sudden tensions and your own reaction.
Fan-fragging-tastic.
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carecarry · 3 months ago
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suddenly, even swallowing feels like trying to choke down a fucking cactus.
it's funny, you know? like, how just seeing your name pop up on my timeline—just your name, not even a picture—suddenly makes my throat feel like it's stuffed with cotton balls. swallowing? not an option. not when i’m hit with this weird-ass cocktail of feelings.
i mean, how do i even begin to explain it? we were never really together, were we? it was all just pings and pixels, late-night texts and stolen moments behind screens. but damn if it didn't feel real. it felt so real that now, when i see you, it’s like this giant, invisible hand is squeezing my heart just a little too tight. just enough to remind me that i’m still here, still breathing, still missing you.
and god, i hate how much i miss you. i hate that i’ve got this mental replay button that won’t stop flashing all the good shit we had���the stupid memes, the endless convos about literally nothing, and how we made each other laugh like idiots over the dumbest things. it’s like my brain is doing this sick little game of "let's remind them of what they don’t have anymore!"
it’s like when you’re so goddamn thirsty but the only thing left in the fridge is that nasty soda no one drinks, and you’re stuck with this dry-ass throat, craving something that isn’t there anymore. that’s what seeing you feels like—like i’m thirsty for something i can't have. and it fucking sucks.
sometimes i wonder if you remember me, if something random—like a song we used to share or that stupid inside joke we had—hits you out of nowhere and makes your stomach twist the same way mine does. or maybe you’ve moved on, maybe you’re out there living your best life, and i’m just a shadow in your memory—a faint echo of something that almost was but never really got the chance to be.
it’s pathetic, really, but i can’t help it. every time i see you, i think of how we ended things—not with a bang, but with this quiet, awful fizzle. like a sparkler that burns out before you’re ready to let go. and it hurts because, despite everything, a part of me still wonders what could’ve been if we’d just held on a little tighter, a little longer.
but here we are, right? just two people who once meant the world to each other, now reduced to fleeting moments, like passing thoughts in the back of our minds, lingering only for a second before we move on.
fuck, i really need to stop thinking about you. but damn, if that were easy, i wouldn’t be sitting here, typing this shit out like some lovesick idiot. because no matter how hard i try to move on, to forget, there you are—just a scroll away, reminding me of everything we had, and everything we lost.
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abyssal-author-and-artist · 1 month ago
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Brief Little Drabble
Mabel you've made me want to do something again. How dare you/lh
Mabel -- @drifting-stars-mabel Dipper -- @drifting-stars-dipper (me actually, go check it out) McGucket -- @it-is-unseen (sorry for the ping i just got inspired)
Dipper's not sure why he's running or why his heart is beating so fast. He's panicking, and it's a familiar feeling at this point, spurred on by months of wandering the multiverse, months of seeing horrible things and not sleeping due to the pervasive nightmares.
But whatever he's running towards is worse, and he can't explain why it is, but he also can't shake the feeling.
Mabel, Mabel, Mabel, some part of his brain is whispering, the part that tells him when there's a monster behind him or when he's going to have a particularly bad nightmare. Mabel, Mabel, Mabel. She's in danger, isn't she? She has to be. He wouldn't be able to hear his heartbeat in his head if she wasn't.
And she's been so bad recently. So stressed and uncomfortable. She won't tell him what's wrong and it hurts because even if she says she trusts him, it doesn't feel like she does. It briefly crosses his head that she's protecting him, but he shakes that thought away. It's not that it's wrong - it's that he can't afford distractions right now.
The communicator in his vest screeches with feedback, and he follows it, turning it down slightly as it gets louder and louder, more staticky and more staticky, more and more persistant and keeps just getting loude-
Mabel.
She's standing in front of a man who looks like Fiddleford McGucket when he was younger. On the memories they watched. He's holding the memory gun to her head.
"Ready to forget, little lady?" he's asking, and Dipper's running, he's pushing himself as hard as he can go.
Mabel swallows audibly, or maybe she doesn't and he's just imagining it based on the little lump in her throat and the minute bob of her head. Her hands are shaking so badly he can see it as he runs towards her.
"Y-yeah. I think I-"
"MABEL," he's screaming, wedging his body between her and the young man McGucket, batting the gun away with one hand. His chest is facing her and he turns slightly to fix McGucket with a glare with all the rage in his tiny little body. So, so tiny, so helpless, so pathetic.
"Dipper?" Mabel asks, her voice breaking in a way that her voice never does. "W-what are you doing?"
"What am I doing? Mabel, what are you doing? That's the memory gun. Were you really gonna go behind my back like that? Just wipe your memory?"
"Dipper, you weren't supposed to be here, I-"
"
I wasn't supposed to be here? Oh, so you're upset at me for stopping you from wiping your memory? Mabel you know what that thing does to people. You were there when we got McGucket's memories back. That- that thing drives people insane! It does the same thing that drugs in movies always do. Do you wanna end up like Old Man McGucket? Mabel, I-I can't believe you. You went behind my back to do this. To wipe your memories. Would it have stopped here?"
"What are you-"
"Would you have just wiped this? Would you have wiped something else next?"
"No, Dip-dop, I was just gonna wipe this one thing."
"Oh, really? And you wouldn't wipe anything else? Bill possessing me? Gideon kidnapping you in a giant robot? Anything?"
"No, really."
"I don't believe you."
"Dipper, you don't understand," she pleads, her voice cracking. "I'm a wreck over this. I-I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can barely think." She lifts her shaking hands. "I'm a mess, Dipper, I need this. I just, I just need it this once. You don't understand what I've been through, what I'm struggling with."
"I don't understand? Mabel, I've seen shit too," he says, cursing without even thinking. Her eyes go wide but she doesn't stop him. "Do you know what I've been through? I haven't slept in literal months. Sure, I've tried, but that's no excuse for actually doing it. Mabel, I can't even touch you without being terrified you'll turn to bugs in my hands."
His hands shake as he lifts them, nearly as much as hers do, and a flash of panic rushes through him, the intrinsic fear of her dissolving into a mass of wriggling creatures, writhing in his hands.
He grabs her shoulders, holding her arms as steady as his own trembling ones can manage.
"We're both suffering, Mabel. I may not know what you're going through, but I can. I can learn. I can listen. Just- just tell me, Mabes. Let me into your messed up head."
"I..." she glances behind him, and belatedly he remembers that he shoved McGucket to the side to get to her. He glances at him to see McGucket with his arms crossed, tapping one finger on the memory gun.
"Are y'all done yet?" He makes a pointed expression. "I offered to help, not watch whatever this slop was. Little lady, do y'all want yer memory wiped or not?"
"I..." she glances back at Dipper. He's so close to her, and it's terrifying him but he does nothing but hold her closer.
Mabel stops shaking.
"Thanks for offering, Mr. McGucket. I... I think..." she takes a deep breath in. Her arms wrap around Dipper and he's so happy she's chosen him.
Then she's pulling him to her chest, one hand on the back of his head.
"I think you should do us both."
The memory gun hurts. He forgets it in seconds.
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wannaeatramyeon · 1 year ago
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i have a silly little (very angsty) idea but im not sure if its what you would be comfortable writing so please ignore this if youre not up for it!
im thinking of gun, goo, samuel, vasco, and eli (seperately + remove anyone u want if its too many) with a recovering addict reader who they thought was clean but had actually relapsed awhile ago and they find out (whether its bc reader ODs, they catch reader high, they find readers stash, whatever reason)
sorry if this is a sensitive subject, they j tend to help me a lot, thank you in advance whether you write it or not.
TW: Substance recovery
Hi Anon, I hope you are doing ok. Stay strong, you can do this. Please ping me if you ever want to talk or vent. I really wasn't sure about writing this because my experience is sorta limited. But hopefully this helps.
Lookism Boys helping with Recovery
Gun, Goo, Samuel, Vasco, Eli
You've felt the symptoms of withdrawal before; the cold sweat, the nausea, the shaking. This isn't the first time you tried to quit but you hoped it was the last.
However, all this was caused by your boyfriend standing in front of you. Your body violently registers what is in their hand before your brain can. Your stash, your just-in-case, and you want to throw up.
You slump to the floor, head hanging in shame. Too ashamed and guilty to meet their eyes, to find disappoint and anger at the promises you've broken.
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Gun has seen a lot of things in his life so far. A lot of people addicted to a lot of things, and himself is no different. He thinks about the cigarettes in his pocket, and his own unhealthy obsession with fighting - that he is very willing to give his life up for.
With you, he understands the struggle, the pull. The battle everyday.
"Y/N," he says, crouching down next to you and taking your hand in his.
Your name is soft on his lips, and finally you meet his jet-black eyes. To your surprise you see no judgement.
Gun places a tender kiss on your forehead, "What can I do?"
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"Princess-" Goo starts, and he can see you flinching. He can be unrelenting with his sharp words but he would never- Never with you, and never when you're so vulnerable.
His voice softens, "Have you been-"
He doesn't need to finish your sentence and you're already vehemently shake your head. You need to let Goo know that it's not what he thinks. You haven't been using, you've just been keeping that around.
And now you think about the words to explain yourself, you realise how stupid that sounds.
The silence stretches.
"Hey," and Goo is next to you, an arm around your shoulder, "I want you around for a long time and a good time, ok?" He wipes the tears from your cheeks. "Your Goo-bear is here for you."
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Samuel crouches down next to you, but you still can't bring yourself to look at him.
With careful hands, he tilts your face up to meet him and thumbs away your tears.
"You haven't?" he asks, and you say no, leaning into the comfort of his palm.
Samuel thinks about what he can do, and after a beat, announces that he's going to take some time off work. Your immediate thought is he's trying to keep an eye on you, he needs to babysit you, he doesn't trust-
"Y/N." And that stop your brain from spiralling. He knows you too well. "You're not alone."
Samuel presses a kiss to each of your eyelid, kissing the tears away, "I think we both deserve a break. Why don't we go away somewhere together?"
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Old Vasco would react with anger and disbelief. Now, after talking to you, after educating himself, he tries. He really tries.
Something he had to do without Jace, or any of the Burn Knuckles because he wouldn't betray your trust like that.
And the more he reads, the more he understands. Sort of. Vasco still sees the world in black and white, but more and more shades of grey are entering.
"Is there more?" he asks, and you shake your head. "I'm just going to..." he trails off, binning everything he found before he seeks you out again.
It kills him to see you struggling, to struggle everyday. he wants to support you anyway he can.
"I'll never fully understand but. Y/N. I want to help."
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Eli has made many mistakes in his life. He thinks about Heather, he thinks about Hostel, he thinks about Olly and his own drug use.
But you and him, that's not a mistake. That's so far from a mistake.
"I didn't know you were still using," and you hear the question in his voice. His desperation to prove him wrong
"I'm not!" You deny, and it's the absolute truth.
Not since Eli and not since Yenna. And with Eli, the unfortunate reality is that his love for you is contingent on this.
That he won't allow anything like this around his daughter, and you can't blame him.
"Y/N," and his eyes soften when you meet them, "I'm really proud of you."
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squerlly · 8 months ago
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just felt like doing a little something something... this post is kind of a little clarification for certain things about my new series. for those who don't know I made a series called flames of desire and it is an Alastor x (f! bunny reader) slow burn romance with eventual smut ofc. my writing style is a bit odd to say the least since I have a hard time explaining things in detail and in attempt to make mine and my readers lives easier iv color coded the dialogue for each and every character so that you know what's text vs dialogue. I also try to include individual POV to get a clear aspect of certain things *cough* *cough* lore. so here are some things you should know
-dialogue colors-
husk, angel, Alastor, Vaggie, Charlie, Niffty, reader (this font specifically, please don't get it mixed up with her thoughts) incase I run out of colors for certain characters I will substitute a color but I will always specify whos talking!
yes bunny Reader design has paws and she can't really wear shoes so I decided to make her wear socks similar to the helluva boss character Lunas, which are open-toed socks just to have something to cover her feet at least. in this story, y/n is old enough to drink but I wouldn't say she's on the older side so use your imagination or don't I don't mind if you edit the character, this is a story about you lovely people after all!. I'm also terrible at smut so don't really expect a lot.
I am Hispanic and although I am not fluent I will try my best to make the characters cannon yet not cannon, by this I mean I will make valentino speak slight Spanish as his cannon form does. I will also make Alastors cooking related to new Orleans Louisiana dishes because hes old fashioned and I doubt he will ever put in the time to learn other cooking don't come for me!!!
I will not be adding sir pentious in this series, I know I'm sorry please forgive me, maybe if I change my mind later which I always end up doing eventually I will add a part just for pentious, a little something. I already struggle trying to make sure I include every character in at least every 2 to 3 chapters because I don't really do favoritism when it comes to my writing, same goes for lucifer but once again maybe something but I also don't want to spoil the show for people who have not watched it yet.
I have a tight schedule when it comes to things I have to do at home vs my free time so I will try to get at least 2 chapters out every week maybe 3 if I feel motivated enough or unless I don't get writer block. as for request I will be re opening those this Friday and close them on Sunday so I can work, edit, and release them throughout the week if I get any.
this series is a shared project between me and my bestfriend @strippezzz please go check out there artwork its so good. he works on helping me proofread because I have ADHD and my brain works a million miles an hour and tend to miss things here and there. hes also 10x better at writing smut, not for the ideas but just describing it detail so I leave that to him and wanted to make sure that I'm not getting all the credit!
if you have any question or concerns just ping me in the comments and I will probably answer in 5 min tops because I'm always using my phone for literally everything
I hope this was helpful!!!! and have a wonderful day/night love you all stay tuned~
-squerlly
for more stories and more chapters please click this masterlist
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sirenofthegreenbanks · 11 months ago
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the "han ying shows up and kills himself out of love" storyline has started and i have thoughts
or: me ping-ponging the entire situation around in my head and examining it from every angle
(putting it under the cut, its gotten long!!! i have Feelings about this aa!!)
everytime han ying and zhou zishu chat i wonder if things could be easier if zhou zishu were a bit more candid about what he means. i mean he very clearly and undeniably tells han ying oftentimes that his life is precious and he should not waste it on zhou zishu. so clearly han ying underestimating what he means to zhou zishu, what value he has at all as a person, is not because zhou zishu didnt do his utmost to communicate it to him.
but im pretty certain that f.e. if zhou zishu would explain why han ying's hunt for the glazed armour specifically is such a stupid thing to do, han ying would probably understand him better and maybe do something else, something that doesnt cost his own life. then again, zhou zishu rejecting the glazed armour is a big part of him not wanting to live, as he doesnt actually know yet, at the time they last see each other, why betting on the mysterious ying-yang book is a bad idea; he only learns that later from long que and doesnt see han ying anymore until he shows up covered in blood. there is simply no way to tell han ying about what a bad idea it is until its too late.
but there is another reason why zhou zishu is rejecting the armoury's mysterious treasures, and that has to do with his worldliness and his experience with such things. nothing is ever as good as it sounds. in word of honor, such magical artifacts and secret techniques won''t solve the true problem, and zhou zishu knows that. he is (understandably) wary, which is later then confirmed to be a good idea. he could have told han ying that a bit more clearly, and as han ying's former superior and the one who taught him everything, han ying might have taken him seriously.
i do wonder if han ying is already aware of what a bad idea it actually is. han ying has served powerful man all his life and was carefully groomed to die in their service, so his worldliness and experience is a bit hazy. its difficult to say what his own thoughts are regarding the matter, we dont see enough of him to know that. its hard to say whether he would have betted everything he has on the glazed armour just to save zhou zishu, if the person in question were anyone else. he seems to lose his brains whenever zhou zishu is involved lmao. in his scenes we see han ying always in a role of service, never his own person, so its hard to say. judging by his attitude, he is either fully convinced the glazed armour truly is the key of all keys (heh!) or he is truly that desperate.
whatever it is, han ying can tell that zhou zishu doesnt want to live. between all the uncertainties, that is the single sure thing. he can tell that zhou zishu would have said no, no matter what. zhou zishu's relationship with wanting to live and choosing to die is very complicated, he hasn't truly figured out himself yet what he wants for most of the show. han ying meets him only in these uneasy moments, so he naturally only knows zhou zishu in a perpetuate state of depression and uncertainty. a zhou zishu who denies his own worth and value to other people, people like han ying.
maybe han ying wanting to save zhou zishu has a big part to do with han ying trying to prove to zhou zishu how important zhou zishu is to him. he's saying, "look! i would do everything for you not to die, can't you see how much i treasure you? can't you tell how worthy and loved you are?" this is especially impactful because han ying only knows zhou zishu in his worst moments. he has never seen zhou zishu the sect leader or zhou zishu the filial eldest disciple. he only knows zhou zishu from tian chuang, leader of assassins and spymaster. and he still loves and adores him.
and yes, a big part of that is likely filial piety. but it is also zhou zishu himself. and maybe zhou only sees the former, and has a difficult time acknowledging and believing the latter. and maybe thats why han ying is so desperate and would do anything to show him.
so maybe it wouldnt have changed anything after all, if zhou zishu had been a bit more candid, considering that zhou zishu's desire to die is so big it would have blotted out everything else, be it pragmatism or reason. and han ying seems to desperately want to save zhou zishu at all costs, even from himself. han ying still might have chosen the path he walks and that leads him to his death, and zhou zishu might have still ended up with one wen kexing intending to save han ying at the expense of himself, and one dead han ying.
but what always sticks out to me is that zhou zishu can not fully open himself to han ying; he is still entangled in that role of being han ying's superior whom han ying is very filial to, whom he adores. he is trying to lead his own life, but han ying (and the way zhou zishu has left tian chuang behind) make it very hard for him.
im pretty sure this could be solved if zhou zishu were more candid and would treat han ying like just any other person, someone he can meet on eye level. but that might be hard for him, because han ying's adoration is so heavy, zhou zishu, who always believes he is not worthy of such faith anymore, is so uncomfortable with it he would rather han ying fucks off. he also wants han ying to lead his own life, and he views han ying adoring zhou zishu still as han ying binding his own fate to a sinking ship. to zhou zishu, han ying's continued loyalty must be like another sign of zhou zishu's faliure; he cant even save han ying from this.
this is especially notable when you contrast zhou zishu's relationship with han ying with how zhou zishu is with wen kexing. these two are equals, and for better or worse, wen kexing has been witness to zhou zishu's journey. he knows everything there is. zhou zishu doesnt have to be candid, wen kexing understands and sees him. but they still talk openly, they show each other their worst, and then they make up about it. they go through it.
zhou zishu doesnt allow han ying to go through it with him, he mistakenly believes he is holding han ying back. he thinks, the more he sends him away, and the less he allows this loyalty and connection to grow, the better it is for han ying. so han ying runs after him, and zhou zishu keeps all the important words hidden. and maybe those important words wouldnt have changed things at all, or might have made it even worse. its truly hard to say.
honestly, han ying dying feels a lot like it couldnt have been avoided no matter what. i like to imagine that things get easier when you communicate better and allow others to through it with you, but in this case, han ying's and zhou zishu's roles seem to make it impossible for them to ever reach the kind of honesty zhou zishu cultivates with wen kexing. there is just too much zhou zishu hasnt fully confronted yet, too much pain and too much guilt. and han ying is never truly arround, for them to really see each other where they are.
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dixie12 · 1 year ago
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what if jonny wanted to try subbing for the first time, so he arranged it carefully with someone he met online. and he vetted the guy, and it turned out they actually got along pretty well, so now he goes back to him when he needs some relief, needs to not feel the weight of the world on his shoulders for just a few hours.
they work up to some more intense play time, with jonny getting tied up in various positions, bound and gagged, and he enjoys all of it, until the impact play.
he wants to like it, feels like he should like it- he's a big, strong hockey player who gets knocked around for a living, taking a few spanks with a glorified ping-pong paddle should barely even register for him, but something about it burns in the wrong way, makes his skin feel tight and his heart beat frantically in his chest.
he's trying to safeword, and he gets louder than he means to, driven there with fear and uncertainty, and apparently a neighbor heard him yelling, because the next thing jonny knows, the apartment he's in is getting raided, the door kicked down as police swarm in.
jonny's dom is loudly trying to explain things while he's getting put in handcuffs, but no one is listening, and jonny's brain just refuses to handle what's happening as he plummets into subdrop.
and of the course the cops have no idea what's wrong, think he's been drugged or he's in shock, so they cut him out of the bonds he's in, load him into an ambulance and suddenly he's surrounded by even more people he doesn't know, in the cramped back of an ambulance speeding down lakeshore drive with the high-pitched sirens loud and disorienting in his ears.
he's taken to the emergency department, with the paramedics yelling that they think he's in shock, and everything is happening so quickly, and he curls into himself more, barely understanding what's being said above his head.
he's nauseous and shivering through a cold sweat, head throbbing, wrists burning where he was straining against the ropes and he can't even open his eyes against the harsh light of the hospital room.
and then, there's a warm hand on the back of his neck, firm.
"you're doing really well," a voice says, and it's so solid and steady that he relaxes on instinct. "that's right, just listen to my voice," and jonny does. there's a hand on his wrists now, too, just holding them gently, and jonny feels safe for the first time since he got to the apartment tonight.
"i think you're dropping," the voice says, and jonny nods his agreement. "we're going to get everyone out of here except for me, ok? going to get you some juice and then you're just going to lay here and breathe for me, nice and steady, just like you're doing."
the voice is warming him up from the inside, and jonny uncurls a bit, opens his eyes to meet the gaze of the man standing next to him.
"there you go, good boy," the man says with a smile. "my name's dr. seabrook, but you can call me brent."
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amazing-spiderling · 7 months ago
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For the fic writer asks,
🌿how does creating make you feel?
💝what is a fic that got a different response than you were expecting?
💥find your least kudos'd fic - say something wonderful about it.
🧿what steps do you take to not take things personally if a fic doesn't do well, or if your writing/posting/sharing experience isn't going how you'd like it to?
<3
🌿how does creating make you feel?
Ahh... wow... well, sometimes during, a little stressed, ngl. That's probably why I enjoy working on projects with friends and sharing things so much- having someone to bounce ideas off of and work with helps take some of the pressure off, but I also don't want to let them down, so it keeps me engaged even when things get challenging. Then after a project gets shared/posted, there's an immediate sense of relief- like whew! I can take it easy for a day. (Or the, "nobody ever ask me for anything ever again" feeling haha). And over time, that relief turns to satisfaction, especially as I look back after a long time and thing, "Wow, yeah. I did that."
💝what is a fic that got a different response than you were expecting?
I wrote a fic for a recent Metal Gear Solid zine called, "Dance Like You Want to Win", (an Evangelion reference I've been dying to use in an MGS fic for years). It was based on an idea I had for a story that was over a decade old, and I actually found part of my original draft collecting dust in the bottom of my google docs. I hadn't written for the fandom in a LONG time, and I was really worried about my characterization, the world-building, and having to write *action* scenes in a mission fic, neither of which are my forte. I was really worried people were going to read it and think I'd lost my touch.
But in the end, people liked it! I actually got compliments on the banter and overall, way more love than I was expecting, even some comments when I finally posted it to AO3. It felt like old times, and that really warmed my heart. <3
💥find your least kudos'd fic - say something wonderful about it.
The story in question is "Kind of Cool" which is a mashup of sorts of two webcomics by Kieran Thompson, "This is the Worst Idea You've Ever Had" and "Cuanta Vida" which was a TF2 fancomic. I had to read over it, because I'd forgotten what it was about, honestly. XD
The TLDR is that two characters in TITWIYEH (a modern magic story) had a few familiar faces from Cuanta Vida (with names! and much happier fates), so I had two characters discussing their non-serious theory that linguistics professor Jordi Betrand was actually a French spy- the joke being that the man is so softspoken and gentle, he's clearly nothing of the sort. I did get a chuckle from myself at this
The young man shook his head again, running weary fingers through his shaggy blonde hair. "Nicole, Professor Jordi Bertrand has got to be the most unassuming and boring man on the entire planet. I doubt he's ever experienced anything more exciting than a birthday party in his entire life- and not even a surprise party! Like a regular one with invitations where everyone knows when and where to go."
A lot of the humor in this fic is reliant on people having read both comics... which explains why it has a whopping 2 kudos, but even after a decade, the easter eggs are still pinging in my brain, so I guess that means I hid some good ones. XD
🧿what steps do you take to not take things personally if a fic doesn't do well, or if your writing/posting/sharing experience isn't going how you'd like it to?
Oh, gosh. Hm. Sometimes, I'm a big believer in "being the change you want to see in the world" when it comes to fandom and creative works. If you can't find the thing you want, make it- and that includes your own hype. If I want a story to get a little more attention, I might do some artwork for it (or commission some if I'm able) to hopefully pique people's interest. I might also do stuff like record podfics or something. But usually, the "next step" is to just move on to the next project and hope it gets a warmer reception.
I've found that trying to work too hard to cater to other people's wants just to get the reception I want doesn't always go to plan- or worse, I might get lots of comments and kudos, but it feels hollow because I feel like I'm being told, "you're really good at knowing what we will like" instead of "you are really good at writing and expressing this idea"- so over time, I've gotten a lot more comfortable making things for me. That way I'm guaranteed at least one person will like it, in the end. And even my "weird" fics are eventually found by people who appreciate them- and that really means a lot.
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biromantic-nerd · 2 years ago
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one of the posts you rb today and a way older post i made with your tags, reminded me of your ocd dick grayson hc
i would love love love to hear more about it if you'd care to share <3
I do feel like somewhere buried in my posts is a post about Dick and OCD. I need need need to find it because oh man I should have written everything down instead of just thinking I'd remember. I was looking for it in my tags but I almost lost this in my drafts so I'm just posting but I will continue to look. I might have it written in my private notes if not posted, though I already checked one spot. Will tag you if/when I find it. If not, I'll just type something that makes a lot more coherent sense!
Okay honestly biggest factor was the blorbo gets the self projection award.
However! I do think there's basis for it. There were just some things that pinged my brain and went aha yeah.
A small part of it - easiest part to explain right now - was how people say Dick has eldest daughter syndrome (jokingly or serious) and it is so easy for the neutralization (or layman's terms: being in control aspect of symptoms -> if you do this, it prevents that) to be masked when someone is in a position of leadership. If something has to be done a certain way or else your brain says something terrible will happen - well Dick is already in that position of leadership and is already shouldering a vast amount of responsibility. Masking his symptoms - from others or from himself even - becomes easier.
I think specifically applying the neutralization lenses of OCD is very interesting to me with Dick Grayson. Like the hypervigiliance aspect of OCD is so so easy as well to overlook because of him 1. being trained by Batman who practically invented the word hyper-vigilant 2. his work as a hero - especially as a leadership role - that ensures his diligence where his symptoms get masked as crossed his t's and dotting his i's and just being very thorough and prepared 3. any ~ weird quirks~ are also put into a scope of comparison of all the other people he knows and, well, they all are filled with quirks and honestly a lot of neurodivergence. It's like when ADHD parents say kids with ADHD's symptoms are 'just normal' bc they don't know any different. His scope for things and what humans do is graded on a skewed curve.
If he double checks information, if he makes backup plans, if he has 'odd' rituals for 'good luck' - all these things can be seen as either being prepared or as quirks. It's so easy to overlook as not being OCD even when symptoms are actually debilitating.
But a part of what interests me is - I know the Blockbuster arc is controversial but the idea (made into reality) that Dick will bring destruction into peoples' lives just by being near them and that he thinks by engaging with them that means he's poisoning them it is so, so interesting to me. If he disengages, to him that means they're safe and vice versa because he's the element of contamination here. Kind of an extreme example but currently I can't think of what comics I was reading at the time and I haven't read any this past year - maybe year and a half?
I wrote a fic based on a Robin Dick Grayson that touched on how he neutralized soms things. A lot of neutralization based on how revealing impersonal information would reveal his identity. If he lied about minor and major details of his life, it would protect his secret identity, which would protect his actual life and the lives of those around him. Which sounds reasonable! But it's like lying about what his favorite candy is otherwise his brain is telling him he's endangering the lives of Batman, Robin, and the Teen Titans.
Now so all of the above is focused mostly on undiagnosed OCD but in the future I do hope to further branch out and maybe do a more detailed post (fic in a couple years if I'm lucky. not this year though) about a Dick knowing he has OCD and with more overlapping symptoms. Rituals that interfere with life and don't 'make sense' and can't be explained away via vigilanteism. Contamination issues. Intrusive thoughts. Oh I forgot the word for it but the one with prayer like - "If I do this in this very specific way then this will happen" the piety one it's called because it's almost like praying except very Symptomed and some people do pray and don't realize it's OCD bc they're religious
Anyways thank you for being interested!!!!! I wish I had way more coherency and I am definitely going to come back and reshape this and add on but I wanted you to know I'd seen your ask because I have such a habit of answering asks in buts and pieces and then losing it in drafts so I wanted to get this posted
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oceania627 · 11 months ago
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Making a post about this because it's on my brain
If I DM you or ping you or something where I specifically direct content towards you, it's usually like putting it in your mailbox. No urgency, just something I think you would like! I don't mind if you take a while to get to it, I don't mind if you never get to it and it goes in the metaphorical paper shredder! It's chill!
This goes for whatever amount of roleplay I do too! If you don't feel like responding or can't write or something, don't! I might poke you to make sure that you say I responded, but you're totally cool to just... not! Don't want to? Cool! Can't right now? Also cool! Tired? Executive dysfunction? Low battery? Sounds good! Whatever works best for you , even if that means doing nothing at all.
Take weeks to respond if you want! You don't even have to explain yourself. Again, I might poke you to make sure you're okay and that everything is working on my end with the technology and whatnot, but take ALL the time you want.
Oceania rant over lol
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the-mxster · 2 years ago
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Tensimm + Donna incorrect quotes (Pt 5)
Pt1 Pt4
Doctor: What are you up to?
Master: Boiling eggs
Donna: Those are ping pong balls
Master: Im not sure, it just feel like I’m living in the past.
Doctor: Awh :(
Donna: We literally traveled back in time
Master: *laying on the floor, covered in blood*
Donna: Omg what happened to them?
Doctor: They got run over by a car again
Donna: Why aren’t they in hosp-AGAIN?!?!?
Donna: I love sarcasm! It’s like punching people in the face, but with words!
Master: Every zoo is a petting zoo unless you’re a coward.
Doctor: I’m worried about you.
Master: I wish I could help you, but I shorn’t.
Donna: Master, please!
Master: What part of shorn’t don’t you understand?
Master: I regret getting dragged into your heterosexual tomfoolery.
Master on Monday: *glues a dime to the sidewalk* Heh heh heh.
Master on Wednesday: *walking down the street* Ooh hey! A dime!
Master: Oh, so when crows remember people who wronged them and hold grudges, its “intelligent” and “really cool”.
Master: But when I do it, I’m “petty” and “need to let it go”.
Donna: I made this friendship bracelet for you.
Master: You know, I’m not really a jewelry person.
Donna: You don’t have to wear…
Master: No, I’m gonna wear it forever. Back off.
Master: Maybe the true treasure was friendship all along. But I hope not, because I can’t spend friendship on new clothes
Doctor: WHOEVER CAUSED THIS MESS IS GOING TO-
Master: It was me...
Doctor: ...Is going to be forgiven because everyone deserves a second chance.
Donna : I intend to stay pissed at you forever.
Donna : Even if I seem helpful.
Master: Then you're in luck.
Master: Because you don't.
Master: Why is it so hard for you to believe me?!
Doctor: ...
Master: Oh, right. The lying.
Donna: You're violent.
Master: Yeah but I'm also short and that's adorable.
Donna: You know, people treat me like a god.
Doctor: How?
Donna: They ignore my existence unless they need something.
Donna: I’d like to live through a week that’s not a whole new verse of “We Didn’t Start the Fire.”
Donna: Can we go to a haunted house?
Doctor: What’s wrong with the one we live in?
Donna: Wh-what?
Doctor: Goodnight, Donna.
Master: Gatekeep, girlboss, and what's the other one again?
Donna: There isn't another one. You're crazy.
Doctor: Anyone else feel good when their brain releases a bunch of endorphins?
Master: Can't relate.
Donna : Why would my brain release a bunch of dolphins?
Doctor walking into the kitchen and seeing all their limes peeled: Master, I love you but, what the h-e-double FUCK.
Master, sipping coffee happily: I love you too :)
Master: Donna, what does IDK, ILY, and TTYL mean?
Donna: I don’t know, I love you, talk to you later.
Master: Alright, I love you too, I'll ask the Doctor.
Donna: Wait- Master, no-
Donna : Would you take a bullet for me?
Doctor: ...yes?
*Master angrily burst into the room*
Donna : *running away* Great, thanks!
Master: I want to be like a caterpillar.
Doctor: Explain.
Master: Eat a lot, sleep for a while, wake up beautiful.
Donna : You know they have a lifespan of a week, right?
Master:
Master: That's just another highlight!
Master: Thanks for not telling the Doctor what happened.
Donna , dumbfounded: I wouldn’t even know where to begin trying to explain this.
Donna : But what about the Master?
Doctor: Don't worry about them.
Doctor: I once watched them fall down 5 flights of stairs, stand up, and keep eating their hotdog like nothing happened.
Donna: I keep a picture of all of us in my wallet. Whenever I face difficulties, I take it out and stare at the picture.
Doctor: Awwww-
Donna: And I tell myself "If I can deal with these idiots, then I can deal with anything."
Master: Oh.
Donna: What’s the straightest thing you’ve ever done?
Master: *sighs*
Master: I killed a man.
Doctor: It was difficult, so you’ve just given up. You might fail, so why bother trying?
Donna : Exactly.
Donna , to Master: I told you they’d understand.
Master: I can be your partner for the next race.
Donna : Sorry, Master. It's a sibling race.
Doctor: Maybe there's a contest for lonely children after this.
Donna : It's only children, Doctor. A lonely child is what you're gonna be when I sell you!
Master: I'm allergic to death.
Doctor: The ritual. To preform it requires a sacrifice.
Master: Sacrifice? I nominate Donna .
Donna : Wait, what?
Master: Because you're little, you'll fit on a barbecue.
Donna : I'm 5'5, it's like average height for women in most of the world!
Doctor: Its not that kind of of sacrifice guys!
Donna : Hey, Master, are you free on Friday? Like around eight?
Master: Yeah.
Donna : And you, Doctor?
Doctor: Umm... yes?
Donna : Great! Because I'm not. You two go out without me. Enjoy your date!
Doctor: Did they just-
Doctor: What’s sexting?
Donna: I'm not having this conversation with you.
Master: We have a problem.
Doctor: No, YOU have a problem. I have an idiot who keeps making them.
Master: There's beer in the cooler.
Doctor: What about for the children?
Master: You can get water from that water fountain and use it to water down the beer.
Donna : Why don't we just give the kids water?
Master, angrily: I suppose you could do that!
Doctor: Guys, I have a question.
Donna : kys <3
Doctor: I love you too.
Master: Ah, yes. Siblings.
Master: Some people are like slinkies.
Donna : What?
Master: Not really good for much but bring a smile to your face when you push them down the stairs.
Donna :
Donna : Please don't push the Doctor down the stairs.
Master, pushing Doctor down the stairs: Too late.
Donna : Who knew getting in trouble would be so impossible?
Doctor: I gotta give you credit, Master. You make it look easy.
Master: Years of practice.
Donna : Self care is stuff like taking a bubble bath or putting on a lot of make up if you like that, or taking a nice warm nap and stuff like that basically.
Master: Self care is the burning heat when rage washes over you. self care is when you feel the bones crack under your powerful fists. self care is the fear in your enemies eyes.
Doctor: Self care is stealing someones birthday cake just to eat the frosting.
Master: If you touch my birthday cake I’ll make you eat your hands.
Donna : There are three ways to handle a difficult situation. The right way, the wrong way, and the Doctor way.
Master: Isn't that the wrong way?
Donna : Yes, but it's faster.
Doctor: Ask me anything. Go ahead, I'll give you a straight answer.
Donna: Why are we so fucking awesome?
Doctor: That's the best fucking question anybody's ever asked.
Doctor: Yeah, well I've never died so how do I know that god is real.
Master: Why am I the bad guy?
Donna: I don't know, why am I the pretty one? We all have our thing.
Master: *sighs* I have no friends...
Donna:
Donna: *coughs* Bitch, what am I? A roach?!
Donna : What is everyone for Halloween?
Doctor: I’m superman.
Master: A clown.
Donna : So I’m guessing we don’t need to get you a costume then?
Master: Bet you can’t eat 15 crayons!
Donna : Bet you I can!
Doctor: *sips coffee, checks to make sure 911 is still on speed dial, and goes back to reading the paper*
Master: I have one foot in the grave but in a kind of fun flirty way, the way one might slip on a fishnet stocking.
Doctor: Life could be worse, Master.
Master: Life could be a lot better too!
Donna: That was a joke. Say ha.
Master: Ha.
Donna: Now do it again.
Master: Ha.
Donna: Congratulations, you are officially the life of the party.
Doctor: They say that the most valuable things cost nothing.
Master: They also say that being cheap is an annoying trait, so don’t overuse that excuse.
Donna : Wow, great work on the Halloween decorations. Where did you get the fake skeletons?
Master: Fake?
Donna : Thanks for pulling the fire alarm, you saved me from giving an oral report about The Scarlet Web.
Doctor: You were too lazy to read the book?!
Donna : I was too lazy to watch the movie.
Doctor, disappointingly, after security arrives to escort the Master and Donna out: So, do you wanna walk out of here or do you wanna be carried out?
Master, in defeat: Let’s go.
Donna : Wait.
Master: What?
Donna : I’d kinda like to be carried out...
Donna : Hey, Master you're smart, tell me what would happen if I chugged 3 gallons of chloroform.
Master: Have you ever been to a mortuary?
Donna : Yea, my grandma lives there.
Doctor: That is the worst response to that question.
Master: We’re about to do the taser challenge. You want in?
Donna : What's the taser challenge?
Doctor: We tase eachother, then drink.
Donna : How do you win?
Master: What are you, a lawyer? You want in or not?
Master: It's pretty cold outside.. wanna hold hands? We should stay close.
Doctor, blushing: Okay.
Donna : It's fucking summer.
Donna : Everyone, calm down! We're grown-ups, let's deal with this like adults!
Master: So, we're just going to wing it and hope for the best?
Donna : Obviously. Now, Doctor, pass the shovel.
Donna : What's worse than a heartbreak?
Master: Stepping on a cat's tail and not being able to explain that you're sorry.
Donna : You really believe in the Master?
Doctor: Luckily, they believe in themself enough for the both of us.
Doctor: So when are we gonna tell them?
Donna : Just give them a minute.
Master: *Pulling on a door that clearly says push.*
Donna: Do you ever think? Because I do not.
Donna: *cooking*
Master: *kicks down door*
Master: *grabs knife from Donna's hand*
Master: WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT DESTRUCTIVE BEHAVIOUR?
Donna:
Donna: What.
Doctor: They're trying to tell you they want to cook.
Donna (brainstorming ideas for pranking the Doctor): How much would a serial killer mask possibly cost?
Master: Well it’s hard to find a high-quality one made out of leather or silicone, but if you did find a good one like that it’d be a couple thousands of dollars. I can try to hook you up with one but I don’t know if I’d be very successful.
Donna: Huh, that’s pretty interesting actually- Wait, how the hell do you know that?
Master: …I am very passionate about Halloween, Donna.
Donna: Is there anyone here who’s actually straight?
Doctor: *raises hand*
Master: *puts their hand down*
Master: Aww, what's your dog's name?
Doctor: K-9.
Master, yelling to Donna: TRY K-9!
Donna, on the computer: DIDN'T WORK!
Doctor:
Master: What's your favourite number?
Doctor: The salary of a clown is 51,000 dollars.
Doctor, gesturing to Master and Donna fighting: And yet these idiots do it daily, and for free!
Pt6
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formleadsfunction · 3 months ago
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f@tt Sangfielle ep. 37 probably-first-time-listening post
(aka my own personal greatest hits)
oh !!!! the intro ????? i love how it's coming together and for the first time you're like "...oh !! something Bad happened and these stories explain why the Blackwick Group wasn't there for it/to stop it right from the beginning; there's CONTEXT"
"My point is, don't cut the heroes more slack. It's, don't have heroes." oooohhhhhhhhhh...
"I only check emails never." SAME
their lil in-jokes like "*weeee* know" :))
"You can sit in your room all day, and ruin your day." I can do that too, Es isn't special
"I don't know what a Continental Breakfast is" "That's because you live in England, and the continent is on the other side there"
Art's Seinfeld/Hannibal crossover fanfic
"off boat, be back soon" uh-huh, uh-huh
something about how this part of the Blackwick Group has to like. just assume their colleagues might be dead. in particular, having rescued Chine - multiple times, recently - and them being gone again now. shaking and crying but I'm fine
Pickman being the only one who's even rly concerned, the way they bring up it must be different for her than, say, Es, because she grew up surrounded by the same people trapped on a train <--> Pickman Actively correcting herself after calling Lyke her friend
"I wanna say it's called Dunning-Kruger effect?" "Kanye West disease." keysmash
"Actually I spent all day on this and this sucks actually" ME
"Can I take a bug peek?" "Sure! Now we're talking!"
It's a shame everybody's always just talking about Duvall's bees, he just mentioned sending a lightning bug, he's got it all! Bees ants moths butterflies spiders lightning bugs beetles. etc !! all of them <3
"Well I'm glad I didn't go out there with my whole self."
ants that used to be bread
Pickman getting more and more wrapped up in the whole Zevunzolia thing.....
"You're from here, right?" "Very much so." "Are you sure?" "I mean.. are *you* sure?" "Absolutely not." "Then me either." aaaaahhhhhhh
Pickman's immediate and definitive "Absolutely not" ???!??!?!!!!?????!!?!?
"This is someone who'd happily be a closer ally to you than you even want to."
Es living her absolutely best life is SO good, she deserves it
"Can't wait for this ship to get scuttled"
Jack's lil back stories for the quartet :))))
the apple caviar lollipop making a return
"The way that you make a bad decision without being aware you're making a bad decision." "The way you do that." "Yeah. Fuck." yeah. fuck. #same
"Minor fallout." "The best fallout."
A bark/stick lizard Following Marn is so good
Janine thinking the flickr stick that looks like a lizard is a real lizard is SO good
"Oh my God, I Have to win this! I have to have a sports anime here!"
Duvall False War Tournament Return ‼️
"Clearing the air? I don't think Pickman knows what this means."
Thank you for making that Duvall Pickman conversation happen
They're all so funny and I love them
Duvall telling Pickman about Aterika'kaal in ways that he decided in his head are correct, ough
"Are you... extremely naive?" "Nno, I think I'm a regular amount..."
Duvall for a hypothetical scenario calling himself a vampire QUEEN just Pinged my brain like ‼️
"I think Virtue Will remember who her friends are." Oh honey.
"I think you're as big a fool as Lyke is." "I think I'm a slightly smaller fool than Lyke is."
Duvall calling Lyke Dangerous again... goddddd. these people !!!
GOOD EPISODE
god what else is even gonna happen to this part of the team, it's such a long arc episode-wise
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fandom-iction · 2 years ago
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The Last Zodiac
•Six•
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"Momiji, go get my bag. I left it in my locker." Haru said, picking up your sleeping form. The exhaustion you felt must've been intense.
"Why don't you go get your own bag? What are you even going to do with it?" Kyo asked, confused.
"Well, if she hasn't turned back by the time Hatori has gotten here, I'm gonna put her in my bag so we can get her out," Haru explained from his kneeling position. He looked at the human girl staring at you with stars in her eyes. "Honda, will you hold her for a second?"
"Sure." Tohru nodded, kneeling and reaching forward to grab your zodiac form. She placed your head gently in her lap. Tohru cooed, "She's so adorable."
Haru took off his jacket and wrapped it around your shivering form. He hoped Hatori would be there soon.
Momiji ran as fast as he could to Haru's locker. It was still lunch break, so he didn't have to worry about running into many people, especially girls. He couldn't afford to transform accidentally. Not when you were up there sick. He got to Haru's locker and grabbed his bag, dumping the contents inside the locker. He started making his way back to the roof when he ran into Yuki.
"Sorry, Yuki!" Momiji said, helping Yuki off the floor.
"Momiji, what has you in such a rush?" Yuki asked the younger boy.
"I can't talk right now! There's an emergency!" Momiji said and ran off. Yuki, concerned, followed the boy. When he came onto the roof, he couldn't believe what the emergency was.
You gained consciousness a few minutes after Momiji left. You were still weak, and it was hard to keep your eyes open, but you were awake.
"Oh! Y/N!" Tohru exclaimed the first one to notice your eyes open. "Are you okay?"
"A little embarrassed, if I'm honest." You muttered. "It's been years since I transformed."
It had been years since you transformed; it had been even longer since you got sick enough to change. The last time was- No. You shook the memory from your head. You didn't want to think of that right now.
"Hatori should be here soon," Haru said. Momiji slammed open the door with a grey-haired Sohma following closely behind.
"What the hell is going on?" Yuki asked, glaring at the panda.
"Y/N got too weak. She transformed." Momiji explained, bringing to bag over to Haru.
"I told you that you should've taken your ass home." Yuki sneered out.
"Come on, Yuki. Give the girl a break." Kyo said.
"Mind your own business, you stupid cat," Yuki said, turning his glare on Kyo.
"Whatever, you damn rat. Just leave her alone." Kyo said, glaring back.
"She's a damn idiot. She should have never come to school. She shouldn't even go here! She's a waste of space! She's a damn mistake!" Yuki said, his face turning red from his yelling. You just looked down at the ground.
"Yuki," Tohru said, shocked.
"Yuki, I'm gonna say this one time because you're my friend, and I love you but shut up," Haru said calmly, standing up, protectively standing in front of you. Everyone looked at him, shocked.
"Did you go dark?" Momiji asked cautiously.
"Not yet, but if Yuki doesn't cut it out, I might," Haru said, shooting the older boy a glare. Something in Haru lurched at Yuki's words. His need to protect you swelled. He could practically feel the switch in his brain teetering on the edge of becoming Dark Haru. It was silent for a few moments before Momiji's phone pinged with a message.
"Harry is here!" Momiji announced.
A cloud of smoke surrounded the group as you transformed into your human form. You turned away from the groups and grabbed your clothes to get dressed. Tohru yelped and helped block your body from the boys on the roof. That, unfortunately, didn't stop them from seeing the large, jagged scar that went diagonal on your entire back. Tohru let out a gasp of horror.
"Y/N, what-?" Tohru asked, shocked, subconsciously moving her hand to touch the scar. You flinched as you felt her fingertips and jumped away.
"Please don't." You whispered. You didn't like for it to be touched. Even your mother wouldn't touch it. It made you think about that night again. You didn't want to think about that night.
The silence was damning as everyone got lost in their thoughts. You sometimes forget that you hear the scar, but you are always quickly reminded.
"Hatori is here. We should go before you transform again." Haru said, pulling from your thoughts and grabbing your hand to pull you off the ground. You nodded and started walking toward the door. You stopped just as you reached Yuki's side. He looked at you, a bewildered expression gracing his face.
"I'm well aware that I'm a mistake, and I know you detest my existence, and for some reason, you believe I ruined your life, but do you have to mention it every time you see me? I have enough reminders." You asked him quietly and let Haru continue to lead you back into the school. As you disappeared down the stairs, Yuki stared at the ground in shock. He wasn't sure what he should feel. Seeing that scar on your back and hearing your words shook something deep in his soul.
"Yuki," Tohru said, pulling his eyes from the ground to her. She looked at him with disappointment. Her eyes were full of tears. Angry and sad tears alike. "How could you say something like that to her? Something so mean and cruel to anyone?" She stormed off the roof, rushing to catch up to you and Haru. Kyo followed her, throwing Yuki a glare.
"Yuki. You need to grow up." Momiji said, following the rest of the crew. A deep shame welled in Yuki's chest. Did he? Did he need to grow up? The disappointment in Tohru's eyes stung, but what hurt worse was the pain in yours.
~•~
"If you wanted a check-up Y/N, you could've just come and seen me," Hatori said with a friendly yet sarcastic smile.
"Sorry." You muttered. You'd finally gotten back to Shigure's house and were rushed up to Tohru's room. You laid back in her bed, a cold towel on your forehead to try and break your fever.
"Had Doc Hatori come all the way out here. Tsk, you naughty girl." Shigure said, entering the room with a bowl of soup.
"If you made that, I'm not eating it." You informed him.
"I'm hurt. I'm not a terrible cook." Shigure said dramatically, placing his hand on his chest. You and Hatori just shot him a look. He sighed. "Don't worry; our dear Tohru made it. She's mighty concerned about you."
"Tell her I'm fine. Tell the rest of them that too. They should go back to school." You muttered with a heavy sigh. You didn't need this much attention.
"I tried to tell them, but they wouldn't hear it. Dear, Hatsuharu was just about losing his mind when you fainted in the car. You're lucky you didn't transform again." Shigure said with a salacious smirk.
"Shut up." You grunted out.
"Shigure, you're distressing my patient," Hatori said with a deep sigh.
"I'm only teasing. My lovely niece knows that." Shigure said, "On a much more serious note. How did you get so sick?"
"I told you. I got rained on last night." You muttered, not looking at him. It was the truth, but you knew if he saw your eyes, he'd know you were hiding something.
"So it has nothing to do with you not having heat?" Shigure asked.
"How do you know about that?" You asked him, shocked.
"I'm co-signer on the apartment Y/N." Shigure reminded you. "I got the notices in the mail too. I didn't say anything because you want to be independent, but you obviously can't care for yourself." Shigure said in a calm voice.
"Yes, I can." You argued back.
"No, you can't. If you could, you would have used the money you get from the clan." Shigure said.
"I want nothing from the family head." You spat out venomously.
"You don't get it, do you? Your fever was high enough that it could've killed you." Shigure snapped, keeping his voice low, but his tone was angry. You weren't used to his showing emotion like this. Shigure was always calm, relaxed, and collected. "Until you can handle being on your own, you'll stay here."
"No!" You yelled—panic seizing through your chest. You couldn't handle staying under this roof. Not with Yuki here. Not with the constant reminder that you were just a mistake. You couldn't leave your childhood home. "That was mom's apartment! It's the only thing I have left of her!"
"Shigure, you need to leave." Hatori said, finally speaking up after silently watching the ordeal. He could see you starting to panic and that wouldn't do anything to help you get better.
"But-" Shigure tried to argue but Hatori cut him off.
"Now." Hatori said firmly. Shigure nodded and walked out the room, closing the door behind him. It was quiet for a moment, your breathing was raspy. Hatori moved to his bag, pulling out a stethoscope.
"You need to calm your breathing." He said, moving to sit next to you on the bed. He placed a hand on your back, but you flinched away. "Breathe Y/N. Deep breathes. Follow me."
He started taking deep breathes, prompting you to follow them. Your quick breathing calmed down and you twisted the covers under your hands. "Thanks."
"Okay, lift up the back of your shirt. Let me listen to your lungs." Hatori said, placing the ear-tips on his stethoscope in. You followed his instructions, taking deep breathes when necessary. "Lungs are a little cloudy, probably from your cold but you should be fine soon."
"Okay." You said laying back on the bed.
"When was the last time you seen a doctor?" Hatori asked.
"Technically you were the last doctor I saw, but mom became a nurse so she could take care of me." You explained.
"She did always have a proclivity for medicine." Hatori said with a sad smile.
"Yeah, she did." You agreed with a sad smile of your own. There was a short silence as Hatori started putting his equipment away.
"I'll talk to Shigure." Hatori said, moving to the door. "Get some sleep."
Hatori walked down the stairs to see a group gathered in the living room. The only one missing from the gang was Yuki, who Hatori assumed was somewhere sulking. The tv was playing, but he could tell no one was watching it. They were all lost in their own thoughts.
"Oh, Hatori! Is Y/N okay?" Tohru asked, finally noticing his presence.
"She'll be fine." Hatori informed her. Tohru nodded, but she didn't look too confident. Sure you'd get over your cold, but you were so sad and broken. The vision of the scar was stuck in her head.
"Can I- can I ask a question?" Tohru asked quietly.
"Sure Tohru, what did you need to ask?" Hatori asked.
"This is probably too far and none of my business, but do you know how Y/N got that scar on her back?" She asked quietly. Hatori and Shigure inhaled sharply.
"You saw that, huh?" Shigure asked from his spot at the table.
"Da. When she transformed back into her human form." Momiji informed him.
"While we do know how she got that scar, it's not our story to tell." Hatori said.
"Oh. I understand." Tohru mumbled looking at the ground.
"Much like the rest of you, Y/N didn't have the greatest childhood. Unfortunately that injury will always be a reminder of that. It's also the reason my sister moved them to America." Shigure said, a faraway look in his eyes as he stared at the wall. It was shocking to the others, sans Hatori, not used to seeing Shigure so serious.
"Was it-?" Haru asked, cutting his sentence short. Everyone but Tohru knew exactly what he meant. The silence that followed was confirmation enough. Tohru looked around the room confused at everyone's solemn faces. She wanted to ask, but she wasn't too sure she wanted to hear the answer.
"Shigure, can I speak to you?" Hatori asked. Shigure climbed off the floor and followed to Doctor toward the front door, away from the group.
"What's up, Doc?" Shigure asked.
"You can't force Y/N to move here." Hatori plainly replied.
"She obviously can't handle being on her own. She's still just a kid." Shigure reminded him.
"She's a kid with trauma." Hatori pointed out.
"We all have trauma, Tori." Shigure said.
"That's true, but did you see how panicked she was? Do you really think forcing her to move in here is the best idea?" Hatori asked. Shigure sighed.
"I don't know what else to do Tori. I don't want her to be alone anymore. I promised my sister I'd take care of her." Shigure spoke, running a hand through his hair.
"Shigure, look-" Hatori started but Shigure cut him off.
"I failed her before. It was my fault she got hurt. You remember how she stopped talking. Just stared off in space. She stopped eating. We thought she was going to die until my sister made the decision to move them to America. The last conversation I had with my sister, I promised I'd take care of her child. How can I do that if she's living alone? Alone outside of the compound?" Shigure said.
"I never said to drop the topic completely. I said you shouldn't force her. Convince her." Hatori said.
As the adults continued to talk, they didn't notice a pair of eavesdropping ears. Yuki stood near the top of the stairs, just out sight of the two elder Sohmas.
He was having many conflicting feelings. Yuki would never admit it out loud, but he was jealous of you. You had gotten away from the Sohmas. You had gotten away from Akito's damaging clutches. Or at least he thought you had. He hated you because he thought your life was better than his and he was jealous. Now he wasn't so sure if it was.
He silently walked toward Tohru's room to peek in. You were asleep, but you were obviously uncomfortable. You restless turned your body, subconsciously trying to find a comfortable position. He noticed the empty bowl of soup on the end table. He crept in the room to grab the bowl. When he got near you, he pulled the covers up to your shoulders and adjusted the towel on your head. That seemed to calm you down enough to make you stop moving.
He looked over your face. You looked like a young kid, so innocent.
With a deep sigh, he sat on the floor leaning his back against the bed. He closed his eyes and started speaking to you, though he knew you wouldn't hear a word he would say. "I've hated you all my life. From a young age I was taught to hate you because you were the panda. Then as we got older, I hated you more. I thought you had the perfect life. You weren't under the Sohma thumb. Not under Akito's thumb. You had a mother who cared. I thought you were evil and I hated you because why does someone evil deserve a good life while mine was terrible. But maybe I was wrong. Maybe you aren't so bad."
With that, he stood grabbing the bowl and walked out the room. When the door closed, you opened your eyes and wiped away a few stray tears.
"Maybe."
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