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#it took me so long to move out because I would think about it from their perspective
aangelinakii · 2 days
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DRUNK WORDS, SOBER THOUGHTS.
— unexpected late night call.
summary : jason's always had a thing for his best friend's sibling. when they ask him to pick them up from a bar because roy would kill them, jason can't help but help a friend in need.
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after coming home from patrol tonight, jason wasn't expecting a call from you, especially with your words sounding so slurred. it was unlike you, or at least what he knew about you.
"hey, jace, i've been drinking in your part of town. do you think you can come get me? roy would literally kill me if he knew i'd been drinking down here." those were your words, or, at least, what he could make out through your blurry voice and hiccups.
if jason were your brother, he would kill you himself, too. no blaming roy.
despite being the son of a billionaire, jason preferred to keep out the way, in his own little bubble. it was just a shame the only little bubble he could find was in the dark, dingy cauldron. not a safe place to get drunk in.
he could agree the bars were good, surprisingly. they sold good stuff. but the people couldn't be trusted; even as a man his size, he knew if he wanted to get trashed at a bar, it had to be at a club in bristol, or the safety of his own home.
it wasn't long before jason pulled up outside the bar he had to strain his ears to decipher, and made out your swaying figure lingering on the pavement outside. jesus...
he was quick to hop out his car and hurry to your side, looping a supportive arm around your upper back. your frame bubbled with a hiccup beneath him, and he patiently led your stumbling legs to the passenger's seat of his sedan.
"what are you doing drinking in the cauldron?" jason tried to conceal his sigh as he fell into the driver's seat beside you, and close the door behind him, quick to turn on the heating.
"birthday," you hummed in return, lids falling low over your eyes as you sunk into the warm seat, a nice contrast to both the sweaty pub and nippy air outside.
this time, jason was unable to hide his surprise, turning to you with raised eyebrows. "it's your birthday?" he should've known.
but his surprise quickly bubbled into embarrassment as you huffed out a laugh, shaking your head.
"no, doof," you snickered, peering over at him with your tired, hazy eyes. "friend's."
made sense. he swore it wasn't your birthday any time soon; but he mostly just did that to make himself feel better for jumping to conclusions.
jason's big, scarred hands took hold of the steering wheel, and his feet, still fitted in his heavy boots from patrol, moved to the pedals. with a vrum, the car began to move down the road, lined with drunkards.
a few beats of silence passed between you, and jason watched out the corner of his eye as you leaned forward to press at the stereo, one of his cd's humming to life.
soft shoegaze flowed through the speakers, something you immediately recognised as slowdive, despite your intoxication, and a chuckle brushed past your lips as you leaned back.
"didn't cast you as the slowdive type."
the driver beside you cleared his throat, and he momentarily took his eyes off the road to adjust the stereo, changing it from his cd rack to the radio. "i'm not," he responded sheepishly, although trying to push out a tone of toughness. "where to, then? i guess not to roy."
deciding not to push it, you turned out the window, small bemused smile upon your lips. "roy would kill me." your words were slow as you spoke, an effort to be more inteligible.
wincing as you spoke, you turned to jason with a soft grimace. "can we go back to yours?" a pang gave in your chest as you caught sight of jason's side-eye as the car passed an amber streetlight. now you've done it; gone and called him to pick you up, and then ask him to go back to his. some friend you are, putting him in this position. "i'll make it up to you."
who was jason to decline?
his jaw clenched, and you could hear him breath deeply. your own heart thudded in anticipation.
from beside you, jason let out a gravelly sigh. "fine."
with a dizzy grin, you leaned forward to spin the knob on the stereo, turning up the muffled music. something new on the charts you had yet to hear yet, so there was no use singing along.
soon, jason was pulling up outside his apartment block, and clicking off the music.
"how good are you walking, pipsqueak?" he asked as he pulled the keys from the ignition, and the car gave a grunt as the power left its body.
a scoffed brushed past your lips as your fingers limply grabbed for the door handle, attempting to lift your knees but only grunting. don't get too cocky now.
with a pair of scrunched-together eyebrows, you turned to jason, grumbling at that bemused smile on his stupid lips. you didn't have to speak to answer his question.
he chuckled, and his door clicked open as he pulled on the handle. you watched through the windshield as your brother's best friend grinned stupidly to himself to get to your side.
there would be an unspoken agreement between the two of you to never let roy know about this.
your saviour peeled open the passenger side door and held a hand out, and you noticed that his palm was wrapped in bandage that was beginning to seep a browny-red. best not to ask. chucking wryly, you took hold of his hand, and didn't have to make much of an effort to stand, as jason was strong enough to do so.
roy always went on about how strong he was, often walking into your bedroom in the apartment you shared (gotham rent is too high in the nice parts!) just to flex in your mirror, but when he brought jason round — his best friend — you could tell the immediate winner. jason todd, by a landslide.
shutting the door and locking the car behind you, jason wrapped an arm around your waist, expertly holding you up on your stumbling feet, and escorted you into the lobby of his apartment building. if he weren't trying to help your drunkness, the affection could have been mistaken for something more than friendly. but you were under the influence. he knew better.
it was a struggle getting you up the steps to his floor, but jason got you there eventually, setting you down on the couch, gaze lingering for a moment as you swayed.
hands on hips, jason spoke down to you, voice a mixture of exasperation and amusement. "you eat anything before going out? drink any water at all tonight?"
letting out a soft hiccup, you shook your head slowly, eyes closing to try to eliminate the harsh beginnings of a headache that had began to blossom in the back of your cranium.
in return, the tall man tutted, mouth pursing to the side. he stepped away from the sitting area, and you could hear the distant flush of a faucet coming to life, the muted sound of a glass being filled with water.
he was back, carefully handing you the almost-full glass as he lowered himself to perch on the ledge of the stout coffee table before the couch, hands hovering outside yours as your own grip wobbled with the weight of the cup. after sending him a look, he backed off. you could handle it. maybe.
"the couch okay for you?" jason hummed after a moment, corner of his mouth quirked up, watching you sip gingerly at the tasteless water, although the colour was beginning to return to your face, the blur in your eyes clearing. "or dare i ask if you want my bed?"
pulling the glass from your lips, you swallowed your mouthful before allowing yourself to chuckle and shake your head. "couch is fine." your voice was small, a little crackly and tired.
with another hum, jason stood, and pulled a folded blanket from the back of a bust-up armchair beside the sofa. he traded the blanket for your half-empty glass, and sat against the coffee table again.
unfolding the size of the blanket, watching it get larger and larger, you began to lean back against the plush sofa, prepared for slumber to take over. however, the breath hitched in your throat, and your movements stopped, as the sensation of rough fingertips grazed against your ankle.
when you looked down, vision still owning a blur, jason was helping you with your shoes, so you could put your feet on the couch without a worry.
once you were free, and jason had discarded your shoes by one leg of the coffee table, you tugged your feet beneath the blanket, and sunk down into the cushions. for such a guy jason was, you were surprised by how comfortable he'd made his living room.
head sinking into a plush pillow, you peered up at jason from beneath heavy eyelids. he'd perched his chin in his hand, watching you carefully, eyes and smile soft, black hair touselled.
"jason?" you hummed, and you could see the way his smile widened for a moment before falling neutral.
he leaned closer to you, ears aching to hear you through the slight slur of your tongue and the small volume.
"you know you've always been my favourite of roy's friends." and you couldn't help but chuckle tiredly, the soft laugh morphing into a yawn.
but jason didn't laugh in return, only watching as your eyes slowl fluttered shut. if only you knew that you've always been his favourite of roy's siblings. and he's only got one of those.
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buckgasms · 3 days
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Bucky flirting with some girl while bunny is talking with natasha about something and suddenly she gets the brilliant idea to copy what bucky does! Kidnap the bitch and make sure she knows not to touch what dosent belong to her! Bucky can't be mad because he set the example for you to follow :)
Ooh nonnie you are devious 😈 I love it!
But you see my thought is this. I don't think bunny would punish the other woman because you gotta be a girl's girl in a man's world right?
BUT
There's no issue with telling Bucky you did it anyway. Just to fuck with his head...
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I mean you are pissed with her, even when she tells you that Bucky wasn't flirting with her, they were just talking about some customer who did a stupid thing and they were laughing about it.
You didn't believe that, but you were being generous, she had the sense to look apologetic and scared. And when you suggested she take the next few days off, she took the wad of cash you stole from Bucky with a smile and left the club for a week or so.
You were now perched on Bucky's desk while he paced around the room, in a state of absolute panic and rage because you wouldn't tell him what you'd done to her.
"Well..." You mumbled slowly, "all I can really remember is you smiling at her and making her laugh...."
He growls in frustration and grimaces at you.
"Oh! I might have pushed her off a bridge....Yeah that's right, I took her for a cute little walk and pushed her into the river..."
But then you tut and shake your head, letting out a giggle as he kicks a bin in frustration.
"Or maybe I dragged her by those cheap extensions all the way down to the little red room and did the things you do to all those nasty men you deal with?"
You casually pull a long blonde extension out of your pocket and twirl it around.
He stalks over and grips your shoulders, squeezing you tight, his face dead serious.
"Bunny, for the last fucking time. What did you do with her? I need to know..."
You look at him quizzically, hands gliding up his expensive shirt to massage his chest, heaving under his anger.
"Why? Do you miss her? Do you want her back to take care of you? You want her to be your little bunny?"
He squeezes his eyes shut and you think maybe his head might explode. Which would be a great shame. Finally he opens them, and his hands come to cup your cheeks.
"Bunny, you know I love you. Crazy about you in fact. You are actually the first girl I haven't... I don't want anyone else, I honestly couldn't handle anyone else. You are the biggest handful I've ever had to deal with..."
You giggle and grab his crotch in one hand whilst pulling him to kiss you.
"Same actually..."
He chuckles and leans his forehead on yours, sighing in defeat as you press more kisses to his cheeks and lips.
"Show it to me Bucky. Show me your big cock and maybe I'll tell you then?"
He backs away slowly and unbuckles his belt. You swing your legs in excitement as his zipper is dragged down.
"You're crazy, you know that Bun Bun?" He approaches slowly, his big hands stroking at his heavy cock. "This good enough bunny?"
He chuckles as you shake your head because he knows that would never be enough for his crazy bunny. He presses a kiss to your forehead before nudging you to lay back over his desk.
You sigh with satisfaction as you feel him pull your underwear down, leaving you bare and exposed to him. You tilt your head and watch him, moving your legs to sit comfortably on his shoulders. He presses a kiss to one of your ankles before sliding in, just a little.
"Bucky, if you don't fuck me I'll never tell you where she is... Don't play with me."
He rolls his eyes before thrusting in fully, groaning at how tight and wet you are. His face is a picture of rage and pure pleasure as he ruts into your soft heat.
"Fuck sake Bunny, never a dull moment huh?"
Your giggle mixes with a groan and you grab his hands, pulling him towards you to share a perfect kiss. His lips chase yours, teeth nipping as his hips roll faster.
"You really love me?" You whisper between kisses, wrapping your arms around his neck, gripping his back as you feel his muscles strain and tighten as he moves.
"I adore you Bunny, you're my everything. Even if you drive me crazy..."
You both giggle as he drives harder, kissing and biting at you as you chase him.
"Hmm Bucky, I'm gonna.. gonna come..." You whine as be growls in your ear.
"Come on Bunny, be my good girl..."
It doesn't take long before he drags you over the edge, a long moan falling from your lips as he growls in your ear from his own pleasure.
He gives you both a moment before pulling back slightly and more serious look on his face.
"So you gonna tell me now?"
You giggle and grab your phone, swiping this way and that before you let you an even harder laugh out as you show him the screen.
"I sent her on vacation, she's in Florida...and you paid for it..."
His scowl is back and your giggles become almost impossible to control, as he pulls back and buttons himself up.
"Bunny I swear to god...."
You sit up and grab his shirt, pulling him back to you.
"But if you flirt with anyone again," your face becomes as serious as his, "then I won't be so sensible next time."
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aliensubstance-011 · 3 days
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Fiddlestan AU!!
AU where Ford gets into West Coast Tech, but Stan manages to (somehow) get into Backupsmore and gets roomed with Fiddleford! 
Stan was kicked out after Ford left (because if his brother was ready to leave home, so was Stan). Stan lived in his car & the public libraries he found (all his fake IDs are just fake Library Cards lmao. nerd). Stan also discovered he was queer (did drag for the prize money, then went OH. All these queens are treating me like this because I'm a baby queer. That makes sense. Guess I’m doing guys now.).
I like to think that Stan spent a year or two studying up after Ford left so when he gets in Fiddleford is in his second or third year! This does result in a “I'm your new roommate. You first year?” and Fiddleford going “What in tarnation... I'm THIRD year? How did we end up in the same dorm????”
At first they HATE each other- Fiddleford thinks Stan is reckless, and doesn’t know what he’s doing there, and that he’s kind of stupid, while Stan thinks Fiddleford is some stuck-up hippie who formed an opinion on Stan too quickly (he did). Once they do start talking they have a very quick ‘oh you’re actually not that bad’ moment. Fiddleford leaves before Stan, obviously, but they keep in close contact even after Fiddleford moves in with Emma-Mae. 
Stan and Ford have a huge argument about Ford not needing Stan anymore. Cue: “Of course I need you, you're my brother” “WELL YOU DON'T ACT LIKE IT”, which is another reason that Stan and Fiddleford leave together. Not long after this, around Stan’s graduation,  Fiddleford has a 'I'm gay and don't love my wife' moment, and Stan casually suggests running away, just driving (maybe something a little nostalgic in it, maybe when Stan looks back at his car he feels like he can hear a distant New Jersey shore). The next day Fiddleford shows up with a duffle bag of things, and Stan realises Fiddleford took him seriously. That he’s willing to run away with him, even if it’s not on a boat, that Fiddleford wants to. Stan gets very, very close to realising he’s in love that day. 
They run away after Stan’s graduation and just drive until they get to Gravity Falls! They set up shop there, with Fiddleford doing auto repairs (and making inventions on the side). Fiddleford confesses to Stan when they’re staying in a motel- he thinks Stan is asleep, so he just says that he thinks he’s in love with him, while Stan is laying wide awake in the bed next to him. Stan spends the next few days Freaking The Fuck Out while Fiddleford doesn’t acknowledge what he said. Stan thinks Fiddleford knew he was awake, so when he confesses back he says something along the lines of “I think I’m in love with you, too” and Fiddleford bluescreens.
Just General HCs:
Stan falls first, but doesn't realise until Fiddleford confesses.
Ford is still self centred but doesn't hate Stan. Stan resents Ford for not doing anything when he was kicked out, and a little bit for leaving him. He understands, though, why stay with your good for nothing brother when you have dreams across the country to fulfil? 
Fiddleford is Repressed Gay until he confesses his Awful Secret to Stan who's just like....”okay?”. He does get to the point of marrying Emma-mae, before he confesses to Stan. 
I don't quite know what Stan will be doing, both in Backupsmore and once they move to Gravity Falls. I like a little bit about him either doing Art or Law, but I feel as though he’s not willing nor smart enough (respectively) for either one.
Stan IS smart, don’t get me wrong, he just needs it to be something ‘physical’ that he can interact with. Fiddleford helps a lot with this (having gotten a lot of hands-on work while he was on the farm). 
I think eventually Ford does end up in Gravity Falls too, but by this point he’s distanced himself from everyone not because of Bill, but because of his own hubris. 
Because of Stan and Fiddleford being queer, I don’t think Dipper and Mabel would be allowed to visit them until their parents have no other choice- though they do hear a lot about their Grunkles and see them from time to time. 
If I did include a Bill/main timeline ish plot it’d be Fiddleford who gets tricked- maybe after Ford gets to Gravity Falls, and Bill offers a way to keep Stan happy/repair his relationship with Ford (maybe Fiddleford thinks Stan is going to run away- just without him this time. He knows Stan would never, but he could.) 
I’d probably include a B-plot where Stan thinks Fiddleford will cheat on him with Ford- they click immediately and so much better, Ford is so much smarter, he’s the better twin, because insecure Stan is my favourite thing ever. Just a small detail, but I think that Fiddleford is a lot more confident and stable with Stan, mainly because Stan has encouraged him to step out of his comfort zone so often, and has proved time and time again that all Fiddleford has to do is ask and Stan is right there to catch him.
I'm still not sure what Stan should do, so if anyone has any suggestions, let me know! That and drawing requests god let me draw them PLEASE.
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teruuu · 3 days
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Exploring The Complexities of The Lamb and Narinder’s Relationship
Long post warningsgsgsgsgsh!!!!!! 🥺🥺
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For those of you who want a quick rundown of what the AU’s about, check out the link at the bottom of the post.
Warning: Mentions of Cannibalism, Unhealthy & Obsessive Relationships, and Spoilers for The Art of Acquiring Devotion
Now, firstly, I’ll have to give my thanks to @nimbudcat for providing me with ideas as to how the relationship would function and opening the gateway for me to fully explore all the nooks and crannies of their romance.
I’m no expert on the deep complexities of toxic relationships, so I don’t have the courage to fully label the Lamb and Narinder’s love as ‘toxic’, but I know damn well that it’s not a normal love at all. Let’s think—what is a normal, healthy relationship composed of? Trust, of course. Mutual love and trust, absolute honesty... Those are the most basic building blocks of a healthy relationship. In this AU, for Narinder and Lamb, those concepts are extremely warped. They have all of those components in their relationship, but it’s so twisted that it’s difficult for me to define their romance as either healthy or unhealthy.
Narinder and Lamb trust each other, and it runs so deep that the best descriptor for that trust is pure devotion. They trust each other with their lives. This may not make sense since they are immortals, but think about it—the cannibalism that they inflict upon one another results in death for the two, each and every time, and they trust only one another for their resurrections. They allow the most vulnerable parts of themselves only to one another, and this is so incredibly meaningful because of all the aspects of their pasts. They trust themselves of course to always only tell the truth to each other, and the love that they share is simply reverent.
Now, let me elaborate on why all the things I expanded on above mean so much. Let’s start with the Lamb. I as I said in my previous post, the Lamb’s past for this AU is derived from my fanfic. We don’t know much at all about pre-sacrifice Lamb in-game, so I took the liberties to expand on their world myself. I’ll allow some passages from my fanfic to speak for itself:
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It was through these traumatic experiences that the Lamb became hungry at the thought of companionship. No, the Lamb doesn’t just want some of Narinder’s Big Fluffy Gyatt™. As I’ve depicted in my other artworks, in this AU the Lamb considers Narinder as their savior, their one and only salvation, and perhaps the only person that has ever cared about them. And this is where things start to get murky—it’s because of this that the Lamb is so incredibly attached to Narinder and is absolutely insane about him.
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The Lamb isn’t just attached, actually. They’re obsessed with Narinder. So obsessed that they develop a panic if they don’t hear his voice after more than half an hour. So obsessed that they begin to see any and all followers that interact with him as an enemy. This is also why I hesitate to consider this as toxic, because, see, Narinder likes it.
Moving on to Narinder’s part of the AU, it’s important to understand that, although he pretty much brought it to himself because of his high and mighty behavior, he was also quite isolated in his earlier years.
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For Narinder’s side, he firmly believed himself to always be in the right. Think of it as a mad scientist whose ideas are way ahead of his generation. He had innovative thoughts and concepts in mind in the duration of his reign. He’d been supplemented by the knowledge that Shamura had provided him with, and that caused him to possess the mind of a radical inventor. Unfortunately, his ideas were less than desirable for the rest of his siblings and his own followers, so little by little the worship he received dwindled. Narinder was frustrated by this—why couldn’t anyone see the genius that he had to offer? Initially he had good intentions in mind, but he grew a tyrannical mind and eventually decided that the only way for the world to see his wonders is to force it beneath his feet.
Eons of imprisonment provided no aid for his mind. What once was a head full of wonders that could potentially change the world for the better became a twisted and cruel version of itself. Violence and revenge plagued his mind, and it became his one and only obsession. So, when the Lamb came to him, he relished in the worship they had to offer.
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Their devotion for one another is purely mutual, but at the same time fully in their own self-interests. The Lamb is devoted to Narinder because Narinder is all that they care about in their mind, and they desperately require Narinder for them to continue living on. As for Narinder, he had never acquired such a passionate follower before, and he grew an addiction for the love that they have to offer. I don’t know if it’s a good thing or not.
They are incredibly violent for one another because that’s all they know. They don’t understand what it’s like to have a normal relationship. They cling to one another, kill for one another, and eat one another because they need each other so badly. The cannibalism is an expression of their eager desire to simply blend into one another because that’s just how much they want the other.
They know it’s wrong. They hate that it’s wrong. They hate each other for making each other feel so wrong and so crazy. But they so, so want it to be right.
(Okay sorry for the bad essay lmao adios)
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swanimagines · 3 days
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Hola can i request a Morpheus x f!Reader fic where her son is running over all the palace because he doesn’t want to take a bath?
Sorry English is not my first language
A/N: Ahem ahem, excuse me... this may be the first time in a very long time I'm actually genuinely HAPPY with something I wrote?? If there's a writing deity or a saint, I will pray to them and hope for this kind of skill and motivation and inspiration and whatever hell I need to produce THIS kind of content in the future too, thanks bye!
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"Aridus!" your voice echoed through the grand corridors as you chased after your son, who had decided today was not the day for a bath. He turned around slightly, his face scrunched up in anger.
“I don’t want to take a bath!” he declared for the hundredth time, before taking a turn to yet another maze of hallways. You let out a frustrated groan, even though you tried to keep it in.
“I know, sweetie, but after all that playing with Goldie, you’re all muddy, I can’t let you go to bed like that!” You stopped, as you took the turn to where he went. “Aridus, please just—”
“No! I don’t want to sleep either!” His voice echoed through the hallway, it was impossible to know which nook he took as a hiding place. “Daddy never sleeps either!”
It was true, the everlasting bickering with him. Why is daddy able to go around day and night, why can’t he stay up to play all night as well. But the thing was, Aridus was your offspring too, and you were originally from the Waking world — and you needed sleep, so Aridus needed sleep too. Your husband had told you that Aridus may need less sleep than a “regular” human as he grows up, but as a toddler he was just like regular children were. Getting tantrums out of being tired, while the tantrum is about not wanting to go to sleep. “I know sweetie, but he’s–”
“No!” he screamed, and you heard the patter of feet going further again.
You barely heard Morpheus coming to stand beside you, but you felt his presence and turned to look at him. “I can’t catch him. He’s persistent and knows how to tire me out.”
Morpheus's lips had a small hint of a smile. “He is much like you, then.”
You scoffed and crossed your arms. “Me? Are you sure? You’re the one who’s refusing to listen to any other opinions of change when you’ve already decided the ‘best’ way. I think he’s more like you than me.”
Morpheus smiled properly now, inclining his head forward. “True.”
A loud crash interrupted the sound of running, and you heard something rolling through the floor, followed by a soft thud and a whimper from Aridus. You walked forward with Morpheus following close behind, and discovered the source. Aridus had collided with one of the pedestals, which had sent a stack of dream scrolls all over the room. You moved to stand in front of him and brought your hands to your hips, sighing.
Suddenly your son, who had been so angry just a moment earlier, looked more remorseful as ever. “I… I didn’t mean to.”
Before you could answer, you felt Morpheus’s hand on your shoulder. “Allow me, my love.”
Aridus sat there frozen in place, looking at his father kneeling in front of him. Morpheus reached out, carefully tucking a curl of hair behind Aridus’s ear. “Do you know why we need to take baths, Aridus?”
Aridus’s shoulders slumped. “I know, father. Mother doesn’t want my bed to get dirty. But I don’t like to get wet.”
Morpheus shook his head. “It is not only because we get dirty. Every day, all living beings get dream dust on them. If there’s too much of it, it weighs us down. It affects our mood and eventually… it may make us fall asleep and never again wake up. Be stuck in nightmares forever, and not even I would be able to help.”
Aridus stared at his father, his mouth opening slightly before he whispered, “Stuck?”
Morpheus nodded. “Yes. Even the stars must cleanse themselves of the night sometimes.”
For a moment, Aridus stared at the floor, clearly trying to contemplate his options. But eventually, he looked up again and nodded. “Okay.”
You smiled slightly, ushering him towards the bathroom before you looked back at your husband, who was left cleaning the mess up.
Later, when you watched your son sleeping in his little bed from the doorway, you felt a slight gust of air as Morpheus appeared to your side again. You smiled at him and whispered, “You’re good at making up stories. I think he’ll be much more willing to take baths in the future.”
He shook his head, his eyes fixed on your son. “I merely spoke the truth.”
You frowned. “Really?”
He turned towards you slightly. “Yes. Well, maybe I dramatised it a little, but much of it was true. Even stars need to be born anew sometimes. They too resist, hang on, but ultimately they yield and give way to new stars. Just like our son did.”
You nodded and let yourself lean against him slightly. "I’ll admit, I was starting to lose hope there for a moment. I didn’t think anything could convince him to take a bath, let alone willingly. He certainly takes after both of us. I thought I'd never tire him out, but you…” you murmured and looked at him. “You have a way with him. Maybe I should let you handle all the tantrums from now on."
Morpheus pushed you away slightly, tracing his fingers against your bare arm. "I would handle them all, if you so wished," he whispered. "But I believe Aridus needs you as much as he needs me. You are his anchor to both worlds. Without you, he might wander too far in the night."
You smiled a little at that. Morpheus certainly knew his way through words, it was in his nature, in how he was created, sure, but you felt like he had learned a thing or two from love since he fell in love with you all those centuries ago.
You sighed, looking at your sleeping son. “He seems to like wandering. He has told me so many times he wants to be just like you, and I don’t know how to tell him that it isn’t possible.”
Morpheus was quiet for a moment, running his hand up and down your arm. “He must learn to walk in both worlds because when the time comes… Waking world may call out to him. In any case, balance is essential. And he must learn to control and thrive, whatever his place will end up being.”
You swallowed, remembering that once your son grows up, he may only be able to visit you at night. You’d watch him grow old year by year, and only get him back once he dies. Which will take centuries, if not even millennials with his Endless blood. And even then, he may choose the Land of the Dead if he has loved ones there. But Morpheus made it sound… like it was natural. Which it of course was, you reminded yourself. “You make it sound so simple. That it will be simple to accept it.”
"Simple, no. But necessary, yes." His hand stilled on your arm.. "And you, my love, have always excelled at guiding him in ways I cannot."
You were quiet for a moment again. “I just don’t want him to grow up so fast.”
He was quiet for a moment too, taking in a deep breath. “I wish he did not grow so fast either. But moments like these, they will linger. Forever, if necessary. We need not fear losing him.”
You nodded, finally closing the door and following Morpheus towards the throne room. “I guess I should just remember he’s going to be a half-deity like you. And that hopefully he’s going to make the world a better place.”
Morpheus turned to look at you, taking your hands in his. “He will have both of us with him when he enters the Waking world, and be more than us. He will be a dream, but also a heartbeat. And that, my love, is his gift.”
You swallowed, but then closed your eyes and dropped your face towards the floor. “I know. As long as he has both of us in him, he’ll be alright.”
Morpheus cupped your cheek, tilting your head to look at him again. “He will thrive. He will flourish in ways we cannot yet even imagine.”
You nodded, glancing back towards Aridus’s room and then you turned back to Morpheus. “I love you.”
His smile appeared again, an expression only reserved for you before he kissed your forehead. “And I, you. Always.”
Requests are open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)
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bitterbutblue · 2 days
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our times
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turns out, you're the fortune i want to keep most ☆ multi x reader
~ this is a multi x reader!! hatssun was talking about writing angst and i really said omg my turn! sorry hatssun ur idea was so good and it works so well w yukong and feixiao... ill credit u so hard bro i swear. WVERYONE BE PREPARED FOR WHEN THINK FAST DROPS🙏🙏🙏
UMM ALSO THE FEIXIAO ONE IS SOLONG FOR NO REASON LOTS OF DIALOGUE SORRYYYYY
characters: feixiao, yukong, ruan mei
 song: 小幸運 - Hebe Tian ~
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i was too busy chasing shooting stars in the sky ☆ feixiao
The day Saran ran away, something in you ran with her. The day Saran ran away, you didn't know if you would ever see her face break into a smile again, or if you would see her hanging the next day. The trace of her slowly faded with time, but even when you finally had the guts to bolt for it she was still the only thing on your mind. That day, you didn't mind if you died running, because it would've been better than staying there but alive. You didn't mind if you died running, because you died with her on your mind.
God knows how many decades had passed since the Luofu took you in. You only count days in how much your heart ached for her. Eventually it dulls down, it goes from a sharp thud to a muted nudge every time you see a dash of silver hair in the crowd or a sharp but soft smile on Jing Yuan's lips. You've heard of how far she had gotten, and you wished it didn't hurt so much to hear about it. You forced yourself to forget about her, because you couldn't keep living every day haunted by her. You were finally able to live your days how you wanted to, even if it meant without her by your side.
"Yukong, can you run these by the general for me?"
You were absentmindedly sitting at your desk, filling in whatever forms the general had sent to you about all the legality things they had to sort out for the Wardance. You spin your pen, signing your name down and ticking the last of the boxes. You huffed at the lack of response from the woman who should be sitting across from you.
"Yukong?"
"She's not here."
You look up at the sound of the unfamiliar voice, and the world decides to take a break for a moment. In that small fraction of a second you feel yourself going back in time for decades until you are standing face to face with the young foxian, bruised and battered with an undying flame in her eyes. She is now much taller, her face pale but not the sickly kind that she harboured before. Her eyebags faded, hair flowing as if it had been just washed- a sight you never saw before in those camps.
She looked healthy, she had everything she wanted.
So why did she look like she was about to break down in front of you?
It wasn't fair.
"Saran?"
She only nods, standing with her arms by her side like a fool who doesn't know how to speak. She clears her throat, moving to cross her arms so she looked less awkward standing in front of you.
She wears clean clothes, she smells of petals.
Her scent of blood long faded, but you feel the pain behind her stance.
"How have you been?" Is all she asks as she eyes your desk warily, as if not knowing how to approach the conversation.
"Well. You?"
"Good enough."
Your old banter had long faded now, your previous ability to make each other laugh despite knowing the imminent death that looms over you two every day.
"Neergul died."
"I know."
"I'm sorry."
It's like talking to a wall, or to just a mirrored version of yourself with how either of you refuse to look at each other.
"I never knew if you died or not until I came here."
Your shaky voice finally cuts the tension that has been simmering for far too long. She swallows, looking up and you know she is holding back tears because she has only ever looked up when the night sky is open and she can see the stars that granted her hope.
"I found out you became general. I was happy for you."
She says nothing.
"Why didn't you reach out?"
The edge to your voice has her breath knocked out of her lungs for a second as she tries to formulate an answer. She tries to weave incoherent thoughts and jumbles of emotions into a sentence and it's much harder to be done than she realised.
"I couldn't."
Of course she couldn't. Why would she admit to you how much of a coward she was? Knowing she had abandoned you after kissing you goodnight that evening.
"Why?"
But you want answers. It's not every day your presumed dead lover comes back to see you after years and years of crying yourself to sleep and hoping that in another future you could be in her arms without having to fear for your life.
"I was scared."
The general cannot be scared, or show any signs of fear in any situation- especially emotional situations where they need to stay calm so that people can feel secure around her but right now it all falls apart.
"Of who?"
"You."
"Why?"
You really did not like to raise your voice but you couldn't help it- she infuriates you. From the moment she flooded your heart you realised why love and hate go hand in hand because you hate that you love her.
"Why now?"
"I don't know."
Is all she manages to stutter out after an incredulous minute of silence and you just sigh.
"Why didn't you come find me?"
Her question has you going speechless now.
You were a hypocrite.
"I don't know."
She just nods with an unreadable expression on her face.
"I don't regret what I did that night."
You squeeze your now-fisted hand tight, taking a deep breath in to try to not only steady your voice but calm your racing heart that threatens to beat so hard it shatters in your chest.
"But why? Why make me love you for decades if you never planned to return?"
"I wanted to return. I always did."
Her words come out much more rushed than she intended it to come out. You feel your world shatter in that moment as you speak your next words.
"You never moved on?"
She steps closer.
"I dreamt about you every night. Under the sea of the shooting stars."
You shake your head, quickly wiping away at your own tears and she has to take a sharp breath in so her tears don't fall.
"Don't say that." You whisper "We can't. Please."
She looks at you, more intensely than ever as her voice quivers.
"Why?"
You shake your head.
"It'll only hold us back."
You still adorn matching scars from the torture you both had gone through in those camps. You love her, but she also left you.
"We can't." Is all you say.
She turns around and you want to pull her into your arms, you want her to be able to look at you but from that moment on, the look on her face as you showed her your soulmate would be the face you see every night you close your eyes.
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somewhere in the sky i could not see, was you ☆ yukong
The evening Caiyi died in her arms, Yukong vowed to never see the skies again. That was the same evening you went missing, the same evening she breaks down because how can she lose two of what she loved most in her life within the blink of an eye? The reason for her to wake up every morning, the reason she smiled even through the roughest of the days- now faded into nothing but memory and a distant bitter taste in her mouth.
You were not presumed dead, only missing. The false sense of hope had Yukong staying at her desk for hours every day, going through files and files, records upon records to try and maybe find some trace of you somewhere but after years of searching she finally gave up. She had to care for Qingni for Caiyi, she had to keep loving you because if she doesn't then she feels like she's lost herself.
It was the day Qingni flew to the skies when she finally looked up once more. She looks to the planes to see her daughter flying the same path that doomed her from wanting to live but the sky was the reason she had the two people who made life worth living. It was that day a plane crashed and Yukong felt the familiar, sickening feeling from decades ago as she runs to the sight. She's panicked, flustered, heart racing and feeling like throwing up as she pushes past crowds amongst crowds-
She doesn't know if she should scream or sigh in relief when they pull the lifeless-looking figure out of the starskiff. The model was old, the same she used in the war where she lost....
You. The figure they pulled out was you and she feels like she's going to be sick. She runs up to them, asking if you're okay and the medics are telling her to back off but she needs to know. She puts her head down, ear against your chest and almost sobs when she hears your heart thud weakly. It's so soft she really could've missed it but she hears it.
"Oh baby..."
She whispers as she cradles your head on her lap.
She sits by your side in the hospital until you wake up. She doesn't move, doesn't eat or drink or anything unless Qingni drags her to the bathroom or to the cafeteria. She holds your hand weakly, squeezing it every once in a while to see if you'd respond.
A cough jolts her awake and she quickly scans the dark, dimly lit room to find you- blinking weakly as you scan the room wearily.
"Oh, oh my god."
She quickly gets off her chair, rushing by your side.
"Are you okay? How are you feeling? Nurse-"
"Yukong."
She never thought she'd hear her name fall from your lips, to hear her name mumbled out so softly and hoarsely again.
"I'm here, I'm right here."
You don't say anything as you close your eyes, taking in a deep but pained breath as you close your eyes. She can feel her hands go cold, trembling violently as she tries to calm herself down. Her fingertips feel like they've been dipped in ice water and her throat feels like its closing up violently.
"You're here."
Yukong couldn't help the sob that escapes her lips at your words.
"Yes, yes baby. I'm right here."
The tears are already falling before she can even bother trying to control them, and she can already feel herself slipping away when you smile softly at her because she had always been a fool for you. She put the whole world down for you and she would lift it up for you if you needed it to be lifted again.
"I- I came back."
"You did, you did baby, you're back." She whispers, finally moving to take your hand in hers. You feel so much smaller, your hand much rougher than it used to be and when she finally takes in how scarred you are she feels like breaking down.
"Wanted to see you..." you whisper weakly, voice shaking as you look directly into her eyes.
Your eyes were nothing like the eyes she used to look at every night before she drifted off to sleep. Now they were hollow, every trace of who you once were has faded into the past that only resides through her dreams.
You were back, but you'd never really be back.
She just squeezes your hand gently as she tells herself it's okay, telling herself that you're physically here and you were somehow still alive and that's all she's been praying for since the day you fell.
So why does it hurt so much?
If all she's ever wanted was to have you back in her arms, why does it hurt so much to have you back now? Looking at her with a smile that no longer meets your eyes and a sense of coldness washing over her like a suffocating blanket every time she sees you.
She still loves you.
She still loves you and it hurts that her lover has died, reincarnated into a broken version of who she once loved. But she doesn't care. She will learn to live with the cold if it means being able to hold you once more. She would spend as long as she needs, puzzling every piece of you back together until you are able to smile at her without the history of all that happened haunting your every waking move.
She vowed, from that moment on, she'd start looking at the sky again because the sky brought you back. Every evening she stares up at the moon, watching it dim the lights to another day, and whisper her gratefulness to have her lover back. Every evening, she brings you out to look at the moon, the same moon you looked at during the two decades apart where the only thing you had together was the moon draped in the sky that she was too scared to look at.
"I love you."
You just lean your head against her chest.
You just listen to her heartbeat, and with each thud the cracks in your body begin to renew themselves- you would never be who you were, but you would always love her.
"I love you too."
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every scene was you ☆ ruan mei
The day she left, she vanished. No note, no text, nothing. Ruan Mei had become nothing but a shadow on earth when she decided to leave your house and you questioned if it was even worth searching for her at that point.
She had always been obsessed with aeonhood, aeons, power- whatever. You knew she was. Yet you still loved her for it, and she always promised you that one day you two would be able to love each other for eternity, for as long as you wanted to and until time itself faded into nothing but what was a mere idea of the past. She held you close that evening when she promised you, your head resting on her chest as she wrapped her arms around you.
A week later, she vanishes.
Lab empty, notes packed away, it was like as if your house had gone back in time to before you met her with how empty it all was. You called her number, texted her phone, contacted everyone she knew which was not a lot but you still tried because you loved her.
The day she revealed herself as the 81st member of the genius society, you felt your entire being shatter into pieces of who it once was. That was why she left you. Ultimately, Ruan Mei was selfish, and she had always been a selfish person.
You were foolish for loving her.
But you couldn't stop.
By the time you finally encountered her again, your history had become just a speck of dust in her mind but it was still your reason for hurt. It was still the reason why getting out of bed was a bit harder and why looking in the mirror hurt just a bit more than it should.
"Oh, it's you."
Her monotonous voice has you wanting to squeeze her throat, strangle her until she can't speak but you don't move. You stare at her, her lack of reaction, her poker face and you just swallow.
"How are you?"
That was the only sentence you could manage out and if you looked closely enough, you could see her eye twitch slightly as her throat tightens- her composure begins breaking at the sound of your voice.
"Well." She nods. She sounds too composed to you despite all the pain she is desperately trying to hide. She hates you for making her feel this way. She hates how weak she feels when you make that face at her, when your eyes widen and your mouth tightens into a line, body tense and breathing shallow. "You?"
She notices how your body tenses even more at that question, how your eyebrows begin to furrow as your face grows pink from anger.
"Not very good."
"Oh."
Her response had you fuming even more. How she was so careless and thoughtless towards you and how you felt drove you off the walls. She doesn't give a shit about you, why would she even ask?
Because you don't see the guilt that eats away at her heart every night as she stares at the photo of you that she has on her bedside table.
"Congratulations. You did it. Genius society."
It came out bitter and harsh, and Ruan Mei doesn't flinch but she feels this twist in her gut that's too unfamiliar and too painful for her to fully register. She doesn't understand this feeling. She wants to, because she wants to know how to stop it.
"Thank you."
You scoff at her response, physically unable to stop yourself from rolling your eyes as you stepped closer to her, jabbing a finger into her chest.
"You're a fucking bitch."
She hates how her heart leapt at the feeling of your touch, she hates how your words actually manage to hurt her when it really shouldn't be affecting her at all. She's been called so much worse, so why does this, coming from you, hurt so much?
"Is this because I left?"
How can she be so dense?
"You left without saying a word! You just disappeared off the face of the earth, I don't hear from you saying where you are. I don't know what happened, I thought I did something wrong, but no- I remember who you are. A narcissistic bitch who only cares about herself."
The last part hurt more than it should've.
"I don't only care about myself."
You can't help but falter at how soft her voice suddenly goes as she looks down, not making eye contact as she shifts her bodyweight from foot to foot.
"I really cared for you."
Those words shouldn't affect you. You should've moved on from what happened almost twenty years ago now but you can't. You just stare at her and you hate how you feel tears start to form in your eyes as you blink violently, trying to hold it back.
"Don't say that to me."
She goes silent.
"I hate you."
She looks down and you don't see the tears that well up in her eyes.
"I really hope you succeed. I hope you get everything you've ever wanted."
She doesn't even get to see your face for the last time, because by the time she finally gets the courage to look up you were already gone. Your last words to her haunt her every time she begins her studies, or every time she tries to focus on figuring out creating a new life species. She knows you didn't mean it, yet she can't help but want you to notice her just one last time.
Maybe this time, she could fulfil her long broken promise to you.
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@44rtem idk ifthis is the ruan mei content u wanted... but here u go <3
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storiesbyjes2g · 2 days
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3.171 Happy birthday to ya
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When it got closer to party time, Sophia and I moved the couch to the backyard for more seating options. Our parties always end up fragmented with some sims eating in the house and others on the patio. My goal is to keep everyone together, so hopefully this will help. We also moved the picnic blanket and put the portable crib outside to accommodate the little ones. Because we're friendly again, I invited Yasmine and her girls, but she declined. She doesn't know the other guests and didn't want anyone asking questions about Stacey. I completely understood but feel bad for her. This spellcaster business has really trapped her and the girls in their home.
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Apart from my baby aging up, I'm most excited about having Dub and his family in our home for the first time. Between the deaths and parenthood, it's been super hard for us to connect lately. I guess I was naïve enough to believe it would be easier being in the same city, but life keeps proving it doesn't matter where we are. Life is going to life, and that's that. I suppose I'll have to be more intentional about hanging with him too.
"You got it smelling good out here, bro," a voice says from behind me.
That Henford accent is unmistakable, and I was so glad to hear it. I turned around and embraced him.
"Wassup, man! Did you find us okay? Welcome! Finally!"
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"Right? Took you long enough!"
"Don't even play, man. You know how life is sometimes."
"Sure do. This house is nice! And the view!"
"Thanks. If you're able to stick around later, I'll give you the tour. Hey, where's Maia? Is she coming?"
"Yeah, she's running a little late. She's just finishing up a project for a client."
"Ahhh. See? San Sequoia has been good to you already. I'm glad her business is picking up."
There's no way Dub showed up alone, so I looked around for Tambara, knowing she couldn't be too far behind. I spotted her toddling across the yard, trying her best to catch up with her daddy.
"She's getting to be extremely independent these days," Dub said when he realized I was watching her. "She won't even let us pick her up anymore. I don't mind that so much, but waiting for her really slows me down."
"She'll get faster," I said, thinking about Desiree's determination. "Just give her time."
Tami and Desi look nothing alike, but I see glimpses of the immediate future in her proud face and wobbly gait. I want Desi to grow up and change the world, but I can't part with my little girl. At the same time, I'm anxious to see her continue to grow. I love watching her smash these milestones like the boss baby she is. Ugh. Fatherhood is just a melting pot of contradictions. How can I be happy and sad, proud and scared at the same time?
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Tami finally made her way over to us, so I waved.
"Hey there! Do you remember me? I'm Luca. That's a pretty dress."
Her face lit up, and I knew it didn't matter if she remembered me or not. I was currently her new bestie. Flattery works at all ages, hee hee.
"What do you say when someone gives you a compliment?" Dub asked.
"I know," she shouted.
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Me and Dub had a good laugh. She's so precocious, and I love it. Kids really do say the darndest things, and I can't wait to hear what Desi will have to say. Hopefully that's not a be careful what you wish for situation, heh.
"That's right, Tam," I said. "You better know it."
"How are you holding up?" Dub asked, wiping the smile off my face.
"I'm good. As good as I can be, rather. It gets a little better every day."
"I'm glad to hear it. I can't even think about what that's going to be like."
"It might sound morbid, but you should start thinking about it, man. It's the shock that's hard to get over."
"You play dollies with me," Tambara shouts.
That was probably supposed to be a question, but she's too excited about her new, big friend and it's too cute.
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"Oh, no," Dub says to me. "You start that and she'll never let you go."
She's adorable, looking just like both of them. I hope she and Desi will like each other. It'll be a shame to have them fighting or snubbing each other when we hang out.
"You can play with Desiree later, okay?" he says.
"Speaking of... We should probably get this show on the road soon. Let me finish these ribs."
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(makeovers and family photos below!)
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Dub and fam by @mysimsloveaffair
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lightlycareless · 14 hours
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Need a moment we're Naoki Is just straight jealous of naoya, of his relationship with y/n, and how he feels that should've been him. How he tried to play it off as him hating naoya, but deep down he's just hurt because he thought that maybe, there could've been some part of y/n that wanted him too .
OOF this ask... I know most of my readers hate Naoaki rn but I gotta say I still have a special place for him in my heart hahahah I don't know what to call it, there's just... something about him that doesn't allow me to let go.
Anyways, this inspired the following :) I hope you enjoy it!
warnings: none. just a naoaki that realizes he gravely miscalculated everything. (he's my interpretation of naoya's brother from over here... proceed with caution)
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Naoaki becoming jealous, or more like completely desolate would finally happen the moment he sees you happily receive Naoya back home.
Up to that point, he’d always seen you cower, doing your best to avoid the abuse of your husband, using him as cover even if Naoaki wasn’t all too enthusiastic about it. He had other plans involving you, after all.
Yet, as much as he disliked being used that way, he was glad to see that the rupture in your relationship was so deep, there seemed no possibility you’d ever find your way back to your estranged husband. Ever!
It was simply impossible. He’d done so much to hurt you—a miracle would be needed to mend his mistakes; for you to believe in his so-called redemption.
Nonetheless, that’s exactly what happened. As if by God’s decree, Naoya just… began to change. One morning he simply acknowledged all of his wrongful doings, subsequently growing regretful and wanting to mend them—starting apparently caring for you, ha! Now, isn’t that hilarious??
Even then, Naoaki still believed you couldn’t be so naïve to be tempted by Naoya’s blatant manipulation: it was obvious that his brother was trying to pull you back to him, fearing he might’ve been losing his grasp on you! Much to his personal delight.
That would only prove, however, how gravely he’s miscalculated your nature, the same one he took great advantage of for his own purposes, now directed onto his own brother.
You were just to… stupid for your own good, Naoaki regretfully mused, too gullible to believe that people could change; dangerous to be left alone.
But isn’t that what he expected from you, though? What he wanted for himself?
Certainly, for a part of him, buried deep beneath the anger he harbored against his brother and clan… hoped that you’d see good in him too?
Longing that the time you’ve spent together provided something more than just a haven for you to seek solace in, or reasons for him to exploit against his brother…?
Genuienly, perhaps innocently, Naoaki thought you’d grown affectionate of him through these moments— like he had become, unable to remember the last time he approached you out of benefit for his ulterior motives.
Yet, he seemed to be the only one to think so, for as time went on, days becoming nothing but a blur, his presence in your mind slowly disappeared, redirected instead to your dreadful husband—
Your warm welcomes, your joyful jests, the eagerness to know of his day accompanied by a tasty meal, enrichened by your bright, wide eyes filled with excitement at every word he said…
All those wonderful things… weren’t his anymore. No. All of them belonged to Naoya now.
Or perhaps they never did; just like everything regarding him and his brother, the heir always took priority.
And such, Naoaki eventually accepted the fact that out of the two, only he was foolish enough to want more than what he initially anticipated; to desire something intimate, for the sake of his own happiness, or perhaps just wanting to seek validation through the only person he believed would be kind enough to do so…
But you moved on. Using him as a steppingstone to make amends with your husband, the so-called love of your life as your blushing face and meek demeanor would declare soon enough.
Naoaki should be gravely hurt by these admittances, but another part of him reminded him this wasn’t the first time he’s ever been betrayed. Delegated to second place against the beloved heir, the prodigious sorcerer everyone seems to venerate, you included.
Leaving him to endure the rest of his dreadful life on his own.
Guess his father was right when saying he wasn’t meant for anything beyond failure, a lost cause that ought to give up before he brought long any more shame to the clan.
Just as he claimed you to be as well, though Naoaki would now have to disagree, because after all that happened between you, him, and Naoya…
He can finally assess the painful truth:
You were always like them—you just needed… the right motivation to accept so.
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vitaminseetarot · 3 days
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I'm Back PAC: Last Summer's Lessons 🎡
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Hey everyone, I'm finally back from my unexpectedly long hiatus (I didn't mean for it to stretch out through most of September!). I had a wonky phase and had to patch myself back together. August was rather foggy. I'll just go ahead and blame it all on the astro transits. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Thanks to everyone again for joining the last game and sending me your feedback. I'm not sure if I'll do another game before the end of this year because a huge flux of free readings is fun yet exhausting, but we'll see what Vitamin's cooking up next…
I intended to release this pick a card much sooner, but I pulled out a lot of cards so it took some time to let the messages in. I even had to change the title a few times but I feel this one captures the essence of the reading. Summer's energy was bumpy for many of us, but these seasons don't come without some learning experience to take away from it at the end. This pick a card is definitely for those out there who think time flies way too fast! As autumn is rushing its way in with its Halloween Spirit (lol) before I can even finish swimming and barbecuing, now would be a good time to reflect back on the warmer months for insight.
Pick whichever pair of neon stickers are calling you. Feel free to pick more than one or whichever one resonates best.
Pile 1: Hello!+Cellphone 📳 Pile 2: OMG!+Mixtape 📼 Pile 3: Cool!+Gameboy 🎮 Pile 4: Wow!+Turntable 💿
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Pile 1 - Hello! + Cellphone 📳
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Gemini - Cross-Pollinate, Strength, Anger, Shark, Messenger; Page of Pentacles, 6 of Pentacles, Ace of Cups, XII Hanged Man, 10 of Swords "It's your own responsibility to EXPAND instead of just contracting"
Hey there pile 1! I had a chuckle when I pulled out Gemini along with Messenger. It fit so well with your phone sticker. "Hello!" Communication was definitely the prime area of your life that was affected during your summer season. You could have a strong Gemini influence in your chart or had a sensitive response to this last Mercury Retrograde. You may have had a lot of expectations about how summer was supposed to go, or had some goals or prospects in mind that didn't turn out as you would have liked. The retrograde energy may have caused delays in things involving communication, like waiting to hear back from a company about a job interview, or waiting to hear back from somebody via text. "Hello, is anybody out there?" Some things may have slipped in between, appointments or online marketplace opportunities that suddenly went cold; whatever the case may be, you didn't hear back and you had to learn to let it go for your own sanity.
Now that it's said and done, you may be currently caught in a slump of how to move those previous goals forward. 10 of Swords at the end almost feels like a resistance or burn out. The pigeon wants you to crack the window open as it's ready to send out new messages in new places. This last summer was like a brief dry spell, but it's not meant to stay that way forever, or even now. The wind is picking up faster than you think, and the 6 of Pentacles shows the energetic tables gradually turning. The cards are suggesting to not hold on to any resentments or frustrations about what has or hasn't happened over the last season. It was not meant to be an energy to breeze through like a cakewalk, and it's especially tough when someone who's relying on communication in some way has to contend with those frustrations. But try not to take the mistakes, failures, no-shows, and ghostings in any personal way. Whatever occurred wasn't due to some real or perceived flaw in your character, it's sometimes how people and situations are for the time. Release all the built up anger however you choose and allow the energy of autumn to flow through, because the Ace of Cups shows a renewal that will quickly wash away the anger if you let it, the way salt water can wash away the pain of fresh hurts.
There is a risk with the shark in letting negative thoughts fester. The weather will change, and with that the mind must follow closely and not be stuck in a season that has already come and gone. We wouldn't wear a swimsuit and sunglasses on a chilly autumn evening, right? So why is it so easy for us to get stuck on past events as if we never changed clothes? The shark can smell vulnerability with a sharp nose, so there is a warning against ruminating and regretting about what went wrong as this will leave you still in the water like an injured duck unaware of its dangerous surroundings. And I say "risk" and "dangerous" not to scare you. But if something in your life hasn't worked out over the summer, it's okay to try again in the fall and expect different results. You aren't crazy for doing the same thing again, things may go differently this time! The real risk is in not doing, but instead choosing to remain stuck and inactive in the mind. The only danger here is in quitting altogether.
You are meant to grow this coming season, in a way that you can witness. I feel like you have done a substantial amount of growing over this last summer, but that may not be entirely apparent to you now. There has been a level up on the subconscious level that is capable of blossoming out into external growth if given the room. You will soon be, if not now are, called to action in some area or areas of your life that needs care but has been left hanging. Summer may have left you feeling tired, but for different reasons than just being overwhelmed from tasks. It can actually get tiring for the mind to hold on to too many goals and tasks at once. It takes mental energy just to remind the brain to do a task, even moreso if your task is to remind yourself of another task! ("Be sure to set a reminder for…") Try to accomplish a little at a time to relieve your brain of them. Give yourself the chance to stand up and have another go in the boxing ring. Summer may have felt like self-sabotage, but it doesn't have to define the rest of your year. If you act now, and in confidence, I know things can change for you as the seasons show us that we are always in a state of flux. Forgive yourself for summer so you can embrace autumn's opportunities in a warm sweater.
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Pile 2 - OMG! + Mixtape 📼
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Dignified - Strength, Confidence, Faith, Active Online Green, Everything is Temporary; I Magician, 2 of Wands, 10 of Wands, 2 of Pentacles, 9 of Swords "CREATE RIGHT NOW not just during soft good times"
Hi, pile 2! Over the past summer, you've been focused mainly around refining your talents. It could be doing something that you're talented in, whether you know it or not, or you could have the topic on your mind. You've been hard at work in developing this area, this feels more passionate than a mere interest or casual hobby. This is like a pianist who spends most of the summer perfecting a song, or an athlete who's staying in shape in time for back-to-school try outs. This is a field you feel comfortable in, you're mostly confident about your abilities even when rigorous practice does its best to wear you out. I'm getting a sense that even though you're pretty capable at succeeding through this one interest, it may be coming at the cost of the rest of your time. There's a sense of not having enough time to focus on other ventures like a social life or relaxation, so in spite of the overall positive energy I get from your talent, it's clearly draining other parts in order to burn brighter and hotter, like a energy inefficient light bulb. Something about the bulb must change to fit your current lifestyle. This summer, you have learned the importance of balancing work with leisure.
You have been spending time working out your vision for how you want to apply your talents. You could be practicing in time to complete a project for college, or busy with expanding your portfolio. This is a very ambitious, career focused pile, and I'm getting most of you reading this one are still in school. You could have gone to summer school this year too (no shame, I went to summer school once and had a blast). Your sunny days are seen as a free space for getting more work done. Active Online Green talks about accessibility or getting the green light for something, but I'm also noticing the "Active". It's like part of your mind is always on, always active. Summer was probably not the best when it came to maintaining a steady sleep schedule, with so many things to think about and your key interest being the topmost thought. With only a few weeks composing summer vacation, too many tasks piled up can create an artificial race to meet everything by a certain deadline. "OMG!" All this backlog combined with big expectations makes for a crammed season.
At times, things can get overwhelming, but when you look back on past success, it can fuel you to keep moving forward. That's one of the great things about having a portfolio, for whenever you're doubtful about your abilities. The immensity of too much work in a short span can wear down on self esteem, but there is no room to feel bad about your talent just because it's not always perfect or things aren't completed on time. Even the most accomplished get bogged down by their work. When I see bad sleep in a reading, I get concerned because I know that, while it seems harmless at first, it can spiral down health if it's not addressed quickly. Autumn is often busier energy wise than summer as school has started, and offices run by fiscal quarters, so it's important to catch up on sleep when you get the chance. Doing a lot of work in the summer only to do more in the autumn can be tiring, so carve out short times in between to relax or do something light and easy in between the flux. Don't always look at space as an opportunity to cram more work; sometimes that space is needed for a different reason.
Find a way to balance both the practical sides of life with the fun creative aspects. There will always be time to put focus into what you want to do, even if it's only for a few minutes a day. Mixtape suggests that you may need to mix things up a little bit by not working on one thing consecutively for hours and days at a time, as not even tattoos are often finished in one sitting. If work is peeling you away from something you really enjoy doing, time yourself to have that fun for five or ten minute sessions. Creative play is necessary for recharging mental batteries, that's what the card means by "not just during soft good times." Even when things get hectic as midterms get closer, a few minutes to sit back will do wonders. The seasons are temporary, so try to enjoy what you can when you can. Summer may have had its stresses and its phases of mental fog, but autumn can be filled with chances to sit back and enjoy the fall scenery for a spell.
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Pile 3 - Cool! + Gameboy 🎮
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Mercury - Messages, Flow, Anger, Pumpkin Spice, Let Your Light Shine; 8 of Cups, III Empress, 7 of Wands, 9 of Pentacles, 6 of Swords "You never get there and you never stay here"
What's going on, pile 3? I see that, like pile 1, you may have also been heavily affected by the Mercury retrograde that took up most of last August. Gameboy Colors, while considered obsolete now (seriously, no lil emoji? ;-;), boasted amazing features in handheld gaming asides from the nice colorful games at its prime. Using a cable link, you could physically connect two Gameboys together to communicate and share between devices. Now, we can do all that wirelessly, but it was literally game changing back then as it allowed players to play together, face-to-face. I see you've learned how to move past some old fashioned form of communication that isn't working for you anymore. You could have even swapped gaming devices, computers, or phones over this last summer. You could have erased old contacts from your phone or friends from social media sites. I'm even getting a change in terms of transportation, where you're choosing to go out instead of staying in or vise versa. You could have used a different way to get around last summer, like using a shuttle bus or traveling by boat or train. This could have been to get somewhere or (in a boat case) been a part of a social event or party.
There could have been a situation which roused up some heated arguments between you and people close to you, whether friends or coworkers. This arguing, regardless of what it was, wore down on your defenses and you decided to pull away. Much of the bickering could have been due to unfair comparisons made between others. Someone may have been aggressive towards you over feeling envious of something you are or have. Whatever it may be, I feel here that pulling back was the healthier option. Sometimes, people want to keep you involved in their tensions, but I see you refusing to engage in unproductive arguments that go nowhere. Summer just wasn't the season for that stress, and you knew better this time around. You addressed things calmly and with compassion. Maybe that's why they're worked up over your energy; just refusing to engage makes you look "Cool!"er by comparison. (This sounds spicy when I write it down but I got to call it as I vitamin see it ok!) Summer is a time for staying cool, and now that autumn rolls in, you can put more focus into enjoying its splendors.
The time was and still is ripe for self-care and inner nurturing. Retreating to heal allowed those old emotions to work themselves out until the situation no longer felt as harsh when remembered about. If a company is making unwanted changes at the office, at this point you're past the sweating and complaining with other coworkers because you're more in the phase of waiting for good days and better results. If a trip didn't work out because of miscommunication, the time is better for planning the next one instead of mulling over what went wrong before. Your energy is just like, so what if things weren't perfect because things may be better tomorrow? And I think that's a great mindset to have when shifting between the seasons. Pumpkin Spice is right above the poor 7 of Wands. This card is all about that basic girl fall vibe, cozy and warm and far far away from whatever nonsense happened in recent past. You're moving from acting like the warrior to acting like the empress who's ready to snuggle up with fuzzy blankets and a cup of tea while watching the leaves dance and flutter. I honestly don't think this pile misses summer, y'all seem ready to go for fall!
With all that difficult energy out of the way, you can focus more on how you want to fulfill your personal time. If you were a mod to an online chat or a part of a social group and you dropped out of that role for the season, then it will now be easy to re-allocate that time to something more enjoyable and soothing. It's the "moisturized, hydrated, in my lane, flourishing" momentum going here, it started in summer and it's a great progress to have all through autumn. I see you entering hermit mode to establish a safe space for yourself starting around August, and it's likely that you will be in that phase for awhile. No pressure to hook Gameboy cable links with anybody if they're gonna fizzle out your fun, right? Although Mercury retrograde is over, there will be times when that old smoke tries to blow through again. I don't see you remaining totally settled in the months to come, but it will still feel like an upgrade compared to last summer.
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Pile 4 - Wow! + Turntable 💿
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Neptune - Vision, Reflection, Passion, Mirage, Sound - Resonance - Frequency; King of Wands, 7 of Swords, Knight of Cups, IV Emperor, Ace of Cups "EVOLVE into non-complainer"
How's it going pile 4? Out of all the piles it seems like yours had the most amount of positive experiences, even if it was only from the start of the season. You wanted to have an action-packed summer to remember. You could have spent a lot of time by the beach or near bodies of water like lakes, soaking in the summer sun while you had the chance. I'm seeing so much here about dreaminess happening, like you went to a dream concert or an unforgettable party. With all the fantasy theme here, you could have visited a renaissance faire or an amusement park based around fantasy. On the other hand, you have both Neptune and the descriptive card Mirage, which both talk about illusion. And the 7 of Swords makes an appearance here, too. So perhaps something that was meant to be awesome may not have gone perfectly as planned, even if you still had a good time. Perhaps the seating at the concert wasn't perfect, or a rain forced an outside party to move indoors. More than one parade may have been rained on, or friends could have bailed out of exciting plans at the last minute. Nevertheless, you learned over this summer to go with the flow and have fun despite how situations or relationships end up as things still may have turned out wonderful anyway.
I'm also getting that over this summer, you may have met with someone special. It could have been at an event where you laughed while exchanging jokes and numbers. Perhaps your season was spent thinking about this fascinating person, whether they were a cute person you're crushing on or seeing a celebrity on stage (while dreaming about the backstage pass). The last few months could have had you swept up in a whirlwind of fantasy, imagining what could be based on brief but memorable interactions. It's important not let passions mislead you when you meet somebody during the rush of an awesome event. I'm not saying for certain you didn't meet the "one", but chances are if you meet them again, you will need to do so from a grounded place before anything can happen. Let's say you met them while vacationing far from home. Yes, they were cute, but take some time to reflect on your feelings before pursuing something that may realistically be tricky to pull off.
You may have either received or lost a pair of glasses. They could have been prescription glasses or sunglasses (why are sunglasses among the easiest things to lose?). I think this may be a message about learning to use all your senses. Look at things closely to understand how certain things happened, if for example you're figuring out how to prevent a bad occurrence from happening again. Like if a party didn't turn out right because the DJ used a bad playlist, then you must look more closely at the finer details for next time by knowing what kind of music or DJ will be more appropriate for the next party. If a surf outing turned sour because of low tide, find a way to schedule dates that better correspond with the ocean's changes. This past summer wanted to teach you how to become more adaptable to various shifts, like how a DJ remixes music at the turntable/laptop. The point isn't to always play things by rote; life has a habit of switching it up to keep things from getting too stale.
Now that autumn is on its way, you're heading for a fresh emotional start but with a clearer lens. You have walked out of the summer sun feeling greatly inspired by its magic. Now it's time to take hold of those inspired thoughts and feelings in the pursuit of a goal. If you're getting a strong magnetic pull towards something artistic, like making a song or writing a story, then this autumn is a great time to begin while all this emotional energy is potent. This urge may have started around the full moon in Pisces; if you start something now, it may be done by the next lunar eclipse or when the sun passes through Pisces, so roughly a six month period. We may perceive autumn and winter as calmer and quieter seasons, but that doesn't mean it can't be just as enchanting and memorable as summertime. It's within your hands to create something just as special over the next few months if you are called to boldly do so. I'm picking up so much certainty from this pile, like if there's something from the last summer you desire, it's within your power to eventually claim it or experience it again, only even better the next time.
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This reading has not been evaluated by the FDA to diagnose, prevent, treat, or cure any disease or infection. Please ask your physician before going online.
2024, @VitaminseeTarot ™
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wiltedflowerpetals · 4 hours
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John Price is a lot of things. A soldier. A leader. The captain of Task Force 141. And, of course, (Y/N) Price's husband. They are so much in love, in fact, that after a year of dating, John asked her to marry him. But even lovers have secrets... Because John's lovely wife wasn't just a sweet wife with a boring office job. No. She was a killer. A hitman. One of the best...
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It's my first cod fic... I hope it's good. Thank you for reading and I wish you all a great day! x3
Words: 2259
Warning: fluff, a bit angsty
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You wiped a bead of sweat from your brow as you entered the quiet sanctuary of your home. You placed your weapons carefully in your hidden compartment beneath the floorboards of the closet, where John would never think to look. It was almost laughable, really. Your husband, John Price, a man who had dedicated his life to fighting criminals, had no idea that his wife was one of those killers.
You closed the closet door and took a deep breath. This was your life, your choice, long before you even met John. He didn't need to know about your job. All he needed to know was that you were here, waiting for him, just like you always were. You took another deep breath and needed to switch gears, to become the version of yourself that he knew and loved.
After you took a shower and put on some comfy clothes, you decided to cook your husband’s favorite food. You moved around the kitchen, preparing it as the aroma of simmering stew filled the air.
Your phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. A text from Kate Laswell. A good friend of yours.
You smiled before swiping the screen to answer the call.
“(Y/N).” Kate greeted you. She sounded professional, as always, but with a bit of warmth.
“Kate.” You replied. “How did it go?”
“Smoothly. The target is dead, and our friend is safe for now. You did a good job out there.”
“Thanks.” You said, leaning against the counter, watching the stew. “What’s next?”
“Next?” You heard her chuckle. “Next, I’m coming over.”
You raised your eyebrow, stirring the pot. “You're sure about this, Kate?”
“What, afraid to see me in broad daylight?” You rolled your eyes at her. “Yes, John invited me. He’s been telling me for ages about how good your cooking is. How could I refuse?”
You sighed. “I’m a great cook… But, Kate, you know how important it is that John doesn’t find out about… you know.”
“I know.” Kate reassured you. “I won’t say a word. He has no idea we know each other, and it’ll stay that way.” Silence filled the conversation. “But he’s bound to find out. You have to talk to him one day.”
You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I know and I will do it… One day. It’s just… I don’t want him getting involved in my shit. If he knew what I really do…”
“I understand…” Kate said softly. “And I promise, your secret’s safe with me.”
“Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow then.” You sighed and rolled your eyes as the line went dead before you could say more. You placed the phone back on the counter.
“You could have said bye, Kate.”
It wasn’t that you didn’t trust your husband; it was that you couldn’t bear the thought of him being in danger. You’d lied to him for years, all to protect him. And so far, it had worked.
°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。
The front door opened. John was home. You turned, wiping your hands on a towel as he entered the kitchen, his face lighting up when he saw you.
“Hey, love.” He greeted, his voice gruff but full of affection.
“John.” You smiled, walking over to him. He pulled you into a tight embrace, burying his face in your hair. The scent of sweat, gunpowder, cigars and earth clung to him, a reminder of the world he lived in, the world you knew perfectly well…
“Missed you.” He murmured against your neck.
“I missed you too.” You replied, your voice soft. You kind of did. Can you miss someone that you see so often? Even when your husband went on missions, you were there, watching his back and saving his life more times than you could count.
You always went there to safe him. For Kate and for yourself.
You pulled back, giving him a soft kiss on his dry lips. He was safe. That was all that mattered.
“You’re just in time for dinner.”
John watched you with a smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You spoil me, you know that?”
“Someone has to.” You teased, setting the plates on the table. “Sit down. I’ll get everything.”
He obeyed. You placed a steaming plate in front of him and joined him at the table. You two ate in comfortable silence.
John leaned back in his chair, looking at you with a satisfied grin. "You’ve outdone yourself, love."
“I’m glad you liked it.” You replied, gathering the dishes. He grabbed your hand, stopping you.
“Leave it.” He said. “I’ll do it later.”
You smiled, but shook your head. “Let me help then.” John offered, but you shook your head again.
“No, you go take a shower. I’ve got this.”
He didn’t need much convincing. “Alright, but only because you insist.”
He pressed a kiss to your temple, before you watched him head towards the bathroom.
The next day arrived too quickly…
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You woke up early and ready to prepare breakfast. John was still asleep, his arm draped over your side of the bed, the peaceful expression on his face making your heart ache with affection.
You moved quietly, not wanting to wake him just yet. He needed his rest, especially after the mission he’d just returned from. You poured yourself a cup of coffee and sipped it slowly, savoring the moment.
As you finished up, John stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
“Morning, love.” He mumbled, reaching for you. You stepped into his embrace, pressing a kiss to his chest.
“Morning.” You replied, your voice soft. “Breakfast is almost ready.”
“Smells amazing.” he said, pulling back to look at you.
You two sat on the table, eating your delicious food as John intertwined his fingers with yours.
“Soo…” John started, as you finished your food.
“Soo?” You glanced at him, squeezing his hand.
“A friend of mine wanted to visit us. You, know the friend I’ve mentioned a couple of times? Kate?” You nod your head, feeling a slight twinge of anxiety in your stomach. “Yeah, she will come… Is it okay? Or should I call her back and-“
You shook your head. “No, no, honey. It’s okay. She can come.” Despite her promise, there was still a small part of your that worried, that he will find out about your job.
John smiled at your, happy that you were fine with it and finally could meet his friend.
And due to your nervosity, you start to cook early on for dinner. For the time Kate will come into your home. You prayed and hoped that everything will work out…
John noticed your nervosity, of course. He always did. “You’re fussing too much.” He teased as he leaned against the kitchen counter, watching you.
“I’m not fussing.” You rolled your eyes, but could hear the tension in your own voice. “I just want everything to be perfect…”
“It will be.” John assured you, moving to wrap his arms around you from behind. “Kate’s going to love you. She’s always been curious about the woman who managed to snag me.”
You laughed, though the sound was a bit strained. John kissed the side of your neck, his beard scratching gently against your skin. “Don’t worry, love.”
The doorbell rang and you felt your heart leap into your throat. This was it…
John released you, heading for the door. “That’ll be Kate.” He said.
You quickly wiped your hands on a towel, trying to steady your breathing as you followed him. When the door swung open, there stood Kate Laswell, dressed casually but with her usual air of quiet authority.
“Kate, good to see you.” John greeted warmly.
“Good to see you too, John.” Kate replied with a smile, glancing over his shoulder at you.
You stepped forward, a perfectly practiced look of curiosity and friendliness on her face. It was time to act. Something that you always had to do during your missions. Acting or more likely… lying…
“You must be Kate. I’ve heard so much about you.”
“And you must be (Y/N).” Kate responded. “John wasn’t exaggerating when he said you’re beautiful.”
You rolled your eyes at the false pleasantries, but at least your friend had some fun. This was the game you two had to play after all. “Thank you. Come in, please.”
As Kate stepped inside, John closed the door behind her, looking pleased. He had no idea that the two women had known each other for a long time already.
They moved to the dining room, where you had already set the table. The conversation flowed easily, John and Kate reminiscing about old missions, with you chiming in here and there, careful to keep up the facade of being just a supportive wife with no real connection to their deadly world.
As they ate, John kept looking between the two women. “It’s funny.” He remarked. “I’ve always thought you two would get along great. Glad to see I was right.”
You forced a smile, hoping it didn’t look as strained as it felt. “Well, Kate’s easy to get along with.” You said, but kept your eyes rather on John than on her.
Kate returned the smile, her expression giving nothing away. “And I can see why John speaks so highly of you, (Y/N). You’ve got a real knack for this - hosting, cooking… you’re a natural.”
“… Thank you.” You replied, you were counting down the minutes until this tense dinner was over.
The rest of the evening passed in a blur of small talk and laughter, with John completely oblivious to the undercurrent of tension between the two women. As far as he knew, it was just a pleasant evening with his wife and a close friend.
When it was finally time for Kate to leave, John walked her to the door, thanking her again for coming. You followed, staying a step behind, happy that the day has finally ended.
“Thanks for having me.” Kate said warmly, giving you a meaningful look as she shook your hand. “I hope we can do this again sometime.”
“I would love to.” You replied, your voice steady despite of all the emotions you were feeling right now. “It was lovely meeting you.”
With that, Kate left, and you closed the door, leaning against it for a moment, eyes closed as you let out a slow breath.
John came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “See? Told you it’d be fine.”
You leaned into his embrace. “You were right.” You admitted, turning in his arms to face him. “It was nice and went better than I thought.”
John smiled down at you. “You did great, love. I knew Kate would like you. But then again, what's not to like?”
You chuckled. “You give me too much credit. But I’m glad she came over. It was… good to finally meet her.”
He kissed your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment. “You know, I think she’ll become a good friend of yours. She’s got a lot of interesting stories, and I’m sure you two have more in common than you think.”
You swallowed hard, forcing a smile on your lips. “Yeah… maybe.”
John’s smile softened as he looked at you. “Are you alright? You seem… distracted.”
You hesitated, your heart skipping a beat. He was always so perceptive. But you couldn’t tell him the truth… Not now, not ever. So, you did what you had done countless times before. You lied… Again.
“Just tired.” You said, resting your head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. “It’s been a long day.”
He held you close, his hand gently stroking your back. “I understand. It’s been a lot. Why don’t we call it a night? You need your rest.”
You nodded, feeling now tired from this day. “Yeah, that sounds good.”
You locked up the house and headed upstairs. As you got ready for bed, you couldn’t help but glance at John, wondering what would happen if he ever found out the truth. How would he react? Would he be angry, hurt, betrayed?
Once you two were in bed, John pulled you close, his arm wrapped protectively over you. He kissed your temple, whispering a soft “Goodnight, love.” before closing his eyes.
You lay there in the darkness, your eyes wide open as you stared at the ceiling. The evening had gone as well as it could have, but the anxiety was still there. Kate’s visit had been a stark reminder of your real life. Your real job.
You turned slightly to watch John sleep; his face peaceful in the light. He had no idea how many times you’d been there, watching over him from the shadows during his missions, making sure he and his team got out alive. You were always just out of sight, never letting anyone know where you were. It was your way of protecting him.
You weren’t sure how long you could keep this up.
But for now, John was safe. He was home, with you, and that was all that mattered.
You reached out, brushing a hand over his cheek, feeling the rough stubble under your fingers. He stirred slightly, but didn’t wake, just leaned into her touch.
“I love you.” You whispered.
It was both a vow and a plea. A promise to keep him safe, and a silent wish that he’d never have to find out the lengths you’d gone to do so.
Eventually, you fell asleep in the arms of your husband.
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bloopitynoot · 2 days
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Reading SVSSS: Chapter 15
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For those who don't know, I am reading SVSSS for the first time and sharing my thoughts!
If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.
Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag bloopitynoot reads SVSSS. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read.
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It's chapter 15! Time to figure out what happened to SQQ in the latest cliff hangar.
Today no tea- but I did have a blackberry cider that was very tasty.
I also did impulse buy a baby's-first-fountain pen to get into my little writing flow and add to the ambiance of my note taking journey. So, pls ignore the worse-than-usual writing; I am learning to write with it.
let's goooooo!
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Well, SQQ appears to be in a coffin? p29
fuck, i'm already smudging the ink with my new pen. The lefty curse of it all. IDK how much of this is going to be legible later. RIP
okay... but how long has he been in here? MXTX is describing everything as dusty as hell. p30 (resolved as I read further- not very long LOL)
and he has his original body! That's exciting! Who did it though?? p30
LOL SQQ has 0 chance with this "advanced level plot" p31. He is totally fucked for sure.
These 'blind corpses' sound like a walking horror show. I would be so scared omg. I don't know how far the animated series got- but if this is animated that would look cool as fuck. p32
okay! they're fueled by breath! that's really neat though! pp33-34 Scary, but cool.
I would die immediately in this situation. When the thing (blind corpses) that are already horrible and unbeatable are scared of something else -> absolutely no hope in surviving. p35
ah, it is our little snake-man. I had a suspicion this was related to him and Luo Binghe's dad. He probably took SQQ's corpse too and brought it here. p35
OMG LOL Luo Binghe's dad is awful, but also feels like a troll AND is serving dad jokes. Re: thinking back to when SQQ knocked on the coffin and he answered from inside LOOOL. p36
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Listen. Can we just take a moment to appreciate the absolute DILF that is Luo Binghe's father? I am a whole lesbian but that character art cannot objectively argued as anything else. p37
and now SQQ is going on about Tianlang-jun having BDE (not those exact words but I mean when you say he's working that coffin like it's a Paris fashion week runway and Luo binghe - the man you are obsessed with- could NEVER, it says something.). p38
That fucking power move too! SQQ: seems you've waited a while to meet me, why don't you come out of there and do so. Tianlang-jun: *bats eyes* okay but only if you hold my hand and work for it p39
SQQ has this habit of getting kidnapped "for his own good" but no one ever tells him why it's good for him XD this entire situation is so annoying. Tianlang-jun did this all so that he could get him away from the sects he wanted to destroy. p43
OMG scratch that. He also wants to use him as bait to snatch his sons body as his own. p45.
aside: I'm going to have to organize these notes later- I'm not catching the nuance in the hand written notes LOL my brain is processing faster than my hand (you will notice that the last 2 points here do not match my hand written notes because they were a hot mess).
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What an entrance Luo Binghe! p47
Yes SQQ! You rescue your man from his dad (RE: holding Zhuzhi lang hostage) p51
holy shit. Zhuzhi lang is WILD - he really was about to just die instead of be a hostage LOL p52 I want to know what his character motivation is. He's giving the same blind trust energy as The Core Melting Hand in MDZS. Both just so loyal to a fault/their own demise. Do we learn more? or is this it? (genuine question- don't tell me WHAT we learn, just yes/no if we learn more).
That was so smart to hit the anti-theft measures in the tomb p53
aaaaaaaand he snatched the wrong person on the escape. well, that's fantastic. p54
I am loving the traps in this mausoleum though! The face with the magma and then the various rooms. I want to know if this exists as a D&D dungeon crawl/anyone has made one, I think it would be so fun. p59
omg. I don't think that Luo Binghe realizes/knows that that was his own father and cousin. that's so terrible. Truly Luo Binghe was treated so fucking badly literally his entire life. His dad does not even give a shit. Honestly probably only had him for this situation - needing a new body. p61
:((((( Our boy, Luo Binghe is in a bad way rn. gah! so many cliff hangers. p63
MXTX Cliffhangar Lord
And now I have to wait until tomorrow to see if baby Luo Binghe makes it. I'm sure SQQ is going to do something about it but dang, he is not well.
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naussensei · 3 days
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“Suguru…”
A voice called— soft and warm, like a spring breeze, wrapping him in gentle warmth.
“Suguru…”
The voice called again.
It was Satoru’s voice, pulling him out from his slumber. He could recognize that voice anywhere.
Suguru’s body slowly reminded him of where he was, bringing him back to his senses.
With a deep breath, he began to move. He felt the grass between his fingers and straightened his back against the tree. It was slightly sore from sleeping against its trunk for who knew how long. There was a nice, warm breeze blowing on his face. Suguru indulged in it, allowing himself to linger there a little longer, listening to the leaves rustle overhead. He had always liked spring days like this, dry and sunny, with no summer showers or humid heat to dampen his skin or his mood.
His head lolled to one side, the sun kissing his cheek gently. His bangs fell over his eyes, and he could almost swear he felt Satoru brush them away from his face.
After a while, he felt Satoru’s finger poke his cheek. He was sure of this now. Satoru always did it.
“Oi, Suguru,” he called again, the insistent tone in which he did being both annoying and endearing in an odd way. The way Satoru always pronounced every syllable in his name so emphatically was amusing. Surely, there was no harm in pretending to be asleep a little longer just to listen to it.
“Su-gu-ru…” Satoru poked again, one, two, three times. Suguru could feel his breathing on his face. “Suguruuuuuu… How much longer are you gonna sleep?”
Suguru smiled and opened his eyes. Satoru’s face was right in front of his, judgmental blue eyes glaring at him through dark round shades.
“What time is it?” Suguru rubbed his eyes, looked around, and saw the school’s backyard. They must have dozed off while studying again. Final exams were just around the corner, and with them, the last days of school.
“Time to go.” Satoru straightened up, folding his arms over his chest impatiently. He was all geared up and ready to go, backpack and all. “I told Shoko and Utahime we would meet them at the arcade at 6. It is now 5.50.”
“Oh?” Suguru yawned, stretching his arms over his head, his eyes tearing a little. “Since when did Gojo Satoru worry about being on time? You always make me wait. How come they get special treatment? Should I be jealous?”
“Dumbass,” Satoru scoffed and shook his head, but he was grinning. He offered his hand to help Suguru up.
Suguru stared at it for a moment, thoughtfully, reviewing the recent memories of his childhood in his mind. He tried to recall the last time someone had offered their hand to him like that and realized he could not, because he had not, and the absurd simplicity of it made him squirm. He stared at Satoru’s hand, hesitant, and as he did, he could not help but think that, if there was anyone in this world who could ever understand, it had to be him. It could only be him.
“Alright,” he said as he took Satoru’s hand to stand up. “But don’t come crying to me when I beat you in King of Fighters again.”
“Again?! That last one didn’t count! Shoko was distracting me!” He turned his back to Suguru, shoved his hands into his pockets, and slouched as he started walking.
Suguru chuckled, then followed behind. “You’re such a sore loser,” he said in a soft voice, then gently pulled Satoru’s uniform from the back to make him slow down. He did, and they walked side by side.
“Tell you what,” Satoru suggested after a while, hooking an arm around Suguru’s neck roughly, nearly strangling him. “How about this? Loser pays for the burgers after.”
Suguru fumbled; their hips bumped into each other, and he had to wobble a bit not to fall. Normally, he would have been bothered by this, by the closeness, the invasion of his personal space, but today he was not. Today, he could not stop himself from smiling.
He wrapped an arm around Satoru’s waist and swayed with him before they kept walking.
“Fine, but I’m warning you. I’ll order the most expensive combo.”
“In that case,” Satoru sneered. “How about this… If I beat you, you show one of your curses.”
“No.”
“Oh please! Don’t be like that.”
“No, Satoru, you know curses are strictly for missions. They’re not pets. They’re dangerous, and they can scare civilians that can sense them and—”
“But you’re the one who controls them.” Satoru said calmly. “You wouldn't let anything happen to anyone. Besides, they’re not scary; they’re cool. You have one of the coolest cursed techniques that ever existed, and yet you want to hide it from the world. You should be more proud of it.”
Suguru let out a gasp in disbelief. Out of all the words he’d imagined to describe his technique, “cool” had never even crossed his mind. Neither had he ever imagined it was something to take pride in. His throat tightened all of a sudden, and his grip loosened on Satoru’s waist, suddenly weak. His steps slowed down.
Satoru seemed to realize this because he turned to look at him with a puzzled expression.
“Suguru?”
Satoru sighed; a faint smile was all he could manage as a response, his throat too dry. He began to walk again before his eyes began to tear. He was not going to explain to Satoru the impact his words had just had on him. He wouldn’t understand.
“So, is that a yes?” Satoru walked faster to catch up.
“Not today,” Suguru said with a soft smile but did not slow down his pace.
They continued to walk side by side for another block, the silence between them a comforting one, the rhythm of their footsteps merging into an already familiar sound. After another moment, Satoru spoke again.
“Can we at least ride on your dragon then?”
“No…”
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🎶I want to saaaayyyy…hello🎶 (How I haven’t used that one yet is incredible).
The day I run out of various hello lyrics and jokes will truly be a sad day in Tumblr history. Anyways, hello! It’s me. 💛. OMG I absolutely loved what you wrote for my last request. Tyler is just something else this tour man. Idk what he is eating, but he is just no filter and I live for it. Honestly, that oneshot might be one of my favorites from you (and that’s saying something because all your works are bangers).
So, you said you were willing to write Spooky Jim so I am going to torture you with my ideas because I feel like Josh’s Blurryface persona isn’t explored enough and I just think he looks good in red eyeshadow 🤷🏼‍♀️. I was wondering if you could maybe do an angsty oneshot where the reader is exposed briefly to Spooky Jim, but Josh quickly takes back control. However, Josh is horrified by that side of him showing so he sort of shuts the reader out. Eventually, the reader manages to convince him that she isn’t going anywhere.
I’ll be honest, I’m very excited to see how you do Spooky Jim, even if it is only briefly. ☺️
Spooky Jim - Spooky!Josh x Reader
Relationship: Spooky Jim/Josh × Reader
Warnings: Swearing, choking, violence, crying - lots of angst
Word Count: 791 - thought this would be perfect for a short blurb type piece so whipped this up in he back of my class lol
A/N: Hope this is okay! Sorry it took so long!
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The banging had been ongoing for hours, each hit and crash seeping through the walls that I thought were thicker than this. My head was throbbing and my brain felt like it was swelling within my skull. Josh and I had moved in together a few months ago and we’d been planning to build a soundproof studio so he could work on his music without it ringing throughout the house. But with tour coming up, he had to practice–there was no changing that. I always tried my hardest to be patient with the drumming and I definitely didn’t mind it behind Tyler’s voice and accompanied by a backing track but by itself it just felt like noise–constant noise that never ever stopped. I wasn’t against his music or him practicing–that wasn’t the case at all–but when it’s 10:30 pm and I’m trying to get a paper done, that’s a different story. I could feel every crash vibrate through the floor and into my body as I tried to focus and finish my research before the deadline. Closing my laptop and climbing out of our bed, I marched down to the basement as each step fell in time with the beats. The closer I got to the banging, the more I realized there was a backing track playing, a weak and gentle hum hidden beneath the drums. I leant against the staircase, waiting for him to finish the track which I’d recognised as ‘Heavydirtysoul.’ Something was off though, each hit of the kit seemed to get louder and harder as the song progressed, causing my ears to hurt. The banging continued, Tyler’s voice just peaking through the drums. Bang! Crash! Bang! Each hit caused a painful pinch in each of my ears until a loud snap rang through the room. Both red painted drumsticks in his hands snapped plainly in half, small splinters of wood flying across the kit. I gently placed my palm on Josh’s back, the gray shirt he was wearing slightly damp with sweat. He flinched violently, turning around and grabbing my wrist tightly. His fingers burned into my skin, the tips likely to cause a line of bruises. 
“What?” he spat, eyes completely bloodshot. 
“I was… uh… drums… headache?” I asked, completely in shock at the pain in my wrist. Josh stared at me blankly as if he was turning over thoughts in his head. 
“You want me to stop?” he smirked, standing up and throwing what was left of his drum sticks to the floor. I nodded slowly, desperately trying to figure out what was wrong. Very slowly he started to walk us up against the wall, my head slamming, causing a sharp wince to escape my mouth. “Do you think I have the time to care about your silly little headache Y/N? Do you think I’m not busy and need to practice Y/N?” he shouted. I could feel my heart thumping desperately in my chest, head rushing through possible ways to get out of his grip. He brought his other hand up to my throat, running his fingers across the rings of my trachea causing my eyes to widen in fear. He’d never tried to hurt me in the past. Josh was one of those people who would never hurt a fly, even when he was stressed out. My breath was shaky as tears poured from my eyes and I tried to pick my next words carefully. 
“Josh?” Almost immediately his expression changed from an intense stare into pure fear. 
“You need to leave,” he said, taking four large steps away from me. Something had changed when he heard his name, something important. 
“What?” I questioned, my voice raw. I could see two things out of the mirror in the back corner of the room. One: My neck had a large red mark in the shape of Josh’s right hand. Two: Josh’s hands were both shaking behind his back. 
“I said get the fuck out Y/N! Leave! Get out!” he screamed. With a heaving breath I ran up the stairs and out the front door, not a single thought in my head. There was nothing to think about, either I stayed down there with him and he could hurt me again or I could leave and be safe–and I wasn’t going to pick the first option. I ran and ran and ran until I found myself on the side of a busy road halfway to Tyler’s house. Car after car passed me as I stumbled in the direction of where I could remember his house being–that was the only place I could go. It was completely dark outside and the only lights were the occasional car and street lamp that I passed. As I reached into my back pocket for my phone I felt nothing–it was empty. Shit. Tyler’s house wasn’t too far from where I was and in a split second decision I decided to sprint there. I wasn’t going to be stuck out on the side of the road alone at 11:00pm. I ran and ran and ran until I found myself on Tyler’s front porch. The lights were on which I’d found odd given Jenna was on a trip with the girls and Tyler usually had the lights off when he was home alone. The night air was crisp, the cold air swallowing me whole as it circulated through my lungs. I stepped up to the door raising my fist to knock before the door opened, Tyler standing on the other side completely dressed and fully in black. 
“Hey,” he smiled, holding the door open for me. He clearly noticed the look of shock on my face as he reached for my hand and helped me inside. Every soft light in the house was turned on, the ambience calming and welcoming. 
“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t be here. I’ll go.” He tightened his grip on my hand slightly telling me to stay where I was. 
“He said you’d probably end up here,” he sighed, leading us to the upstairs studio with the large windows–I loved that room. 
“Wait, you talked to him?” I paused in the door frame, Tyler walking into the studio and turning on the neon lights. He nodded, sitting down right in front of the wall of windows. 
“Of course I did. He called me the second you left the house,” he explained. I slowly made my way across the room till I was sitting next to him, my knees pressed flat against my chest. 
“So he told you what he did?” I sighed, looking out across the property. 
“He told me what happened, yes. But it wasn’t him, I’m telling you that wasn’t him,” he looked down at me. 
“I’m pretty sure the man with his hand around my throat was Josh, Tyler,” I snapped. In a complete state of shock I surrendered, Tyler pulling me in as I wept messily into his shirt. My chest was heavy as tears fell and I took quick breaths. 
“Y/N… it’s more complicated than that,” he rubbed my back.
“He… he… Josh…I–” I sobbed, each word muffled into his chest.
“You need to rest. We’ll talk about this in the morning,” he declared, moving to get up but I shifted my weight so I stayed on the floor. 
“Tyler, I can’t–we–please,” I sighed and he nodded, sitting back down.
“Do you want me to tell you what really happened or do you want to wait for Josh?” He checked his phone as if anyone would be trying to reach him at this hour. 
“I’m not going near him again so just tell me,” I huffed, wiping the tears from my face. He nodded before starting.
“You know Blurryface and how I have control over him most of the time?” I stared blankly at him trying to figure out where he was going with this. “Josh has a blurryface too except he’s called Spooky Jim. From what it sounds like, you met him tonight.” This couldn’t be true. If this was true then he would’ve told me, we’ve been together for a year, he would’ve told me. 
“No,” I scoffed, “that’s not fair… he–he wouldn’t–no.”
“I told him to tell you sooner but clearly he didn’t,” he sighed. If it was true then I couldn’t blame Josh for any of it. I loved him more than anything and I was going to stay with him–be there for him–because he needed me. 
“You’re sure?” I ran a hand through my hair, my palms sticky with sweat. “Yep,” he nodded. I needed to call him. I needed to see him. Anything to tell him we were okay. Tyler noticed me looking around the room and pulled out his phone. “He’s not gonna want to talk to you for a while Y/N. I’m sure Jenna’s told you about the first time Blurryface came out that I ghosted her for three weeks. He’s going to need time,” he started. 
“At least let me send him a text. My phone is back at the house,” I begged. He nodded, passing me the phone. 
“Keep it short. I can stop by the house tomorrow to pick up anything you need,” he spoke, getting up and leaving the room. I pressed Josh’s contact photo, one that Tyler had taken from their most recent tour. The most recent messages about an upcoming photoshoot. I started to type up my message. 
‘Hey. It’s Y/N’ (deleted)
‘I’m at Tyler’s’ (deleted)
‘I miss you’ (deleted)
‘Josh?’ (deleted)
‘I’m safe. I love you and I’m always here for you. Call me when you’re okay. I love you - Y/N’ (sent)
//
Requests open!
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Still haven't messaged my mom back. And I don't think I'm going to.
#you know how they say time makes you look on the past with nostalgia and that's why elderly people think so fondly of past decades? not me#there are moments I look back on with nostalgia sure but the overwhelming feeling of looking back on my childhood is just whatever I do#wherever I go whatever happens that will not be my life again. my memory is long I made a promise to myself I intend to keep I don't forget#support you having your grandkids if their mother is deemed unfit yes. take the older two myself if it comes to it yes. move provinces to#live with you to look after the five of them together where you would be my only adult connection and there's a language barrier and I have#no work history and I'd be between five hours and nine hours away from any other connection I have answer's an absolute fucking no. I've#seen how you are with my sister how you were with my brother. who do you think they call when they've had enough of you? do you not#remember most of the beatings I took was because I was standing between you and my brother? of course not because according to you you#never did beat me but if you think I'm not aware that would turn on me again the second I'm no longer distant and just visiting if you#think you'd find nothing to complain about because you've built up this golden child ideal of me in your head and want to forget how it was#when I was actually in your care you are very very wrong. I remember. I know that inconveniences a lot of people who want to forget#unpleasant things about themselves. me too to be honest I have memories I wish I could erase but I can't especially with regard to my#sister. I defended my brother but not her. not enough. and it's probably why I give so much to her now more than I should because it's#enabling but it is what it is I guess. I won't use my memories against anyone just for the sake of it but I absolutely fucking will#to protect myself or others. you want a redemption arc without admitting to anything? keep being patient and kind towards#your grandchildren even if you end up having to take them and if you can't do it for all five of them then accept that it's better for the#older two to be with me. that's it. those are your options: the older two are with me so you only have to look after the younger three or#you need to buckle down and learn from your past mistakes to look after the five of them and all that is *if it even comes to that* which#as things are it's not in danger of that! it was a regular fucking visit to monitor the situation that's all; they're not getting taken#literally every time she freaks out about something it's a 50/50 chance it's actually something or she's invented a completely#twisted version of events
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aesethewitch · 5 months
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When I was a kid, we moved into a house that had a huge lilac tree out front. It was mostly rotten, and it needed to be taken down before it fell. It took a while, but eventually, it was gone.
Mostly. A couple years later, little lilac babies popped out of the ground in its place. My mom was determined to get rid of them, because she'd planted a beautiful flower garden there, and the lilac trees would overshadow and kill the whole garden. I insisted on saving at least a few saplings. She said fine, but I had to dig them out and put them in pots myself.
So, I did. I spent days digging little lilac bushes out of the ground and putting them into pots. Some couldn't be saved, but some could. When all was said and done, I had five brand-new lilac saplings. Seven or eight years old, and it was my absolute pride and joy.
Three died due to sun scorching, severe drought that no amount of watering could save, and perhaps just being moved from their place in the ground. But two survived, and I was awfully proud of them! I'd go out and talk to them every single day. I watered them by hand and made sure they were fertilized properly. I learned all about their favored environments, and I was determined to make sure they lived.
One of my mom's friends saw what I was doing with the lilacs. She asked if she could have one to put in her backyard, and I agreed on the condition that she take very, very good care of it.
It's now fucking enormous. I'm talking ten feet tall and bursting with beautiful purple flowers every spring. My mom still gets updates each year as they start to bloom, which she forwards to me. And all I can think is, "That's my friend! Thriving some twenty years on, there it is."
The other tree nearly died, too. It lived in a pot for far, far too long. I wanted to plant it somewhere in my parents' yard, but my mom was reluctant. Eventually, we agreed to put it in the far back garden. It grew okay for many years, despite the shade, but in all these years, it's never bloomed.
Last year, the massive tree casting massive shadows over the lilac and the garden cracked in half and fell. It tumbled into the garden, crushing part of the nearby shed and destroying a few plants beneath it.
It missed my lilac by inches.
The clean-up is long done. The rest of the tree has been cut down, and my lilac has full sunlight for the first time in fifteen years. It won't bloom this year, I know. But it's got new shoots up. It's taller than ever. I spent half an hour a few weeks ago praising it for surviving all this time, dreaming about its future and telling it how I believe it'll become the tall beauty it's always been meant to be.
I think next year, I'll see flowers.
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Fandom can do a little gatekeeping. As a treat.
So I finally decided to archive-lock my fics on AO3 last night. I’ve been considering it since the AI scrape last year, but the tipping point was this whole lore.fm debacle, coupled with some thoughts I’ve been thinking regarding Fandom These Days in general and Fandom As A Community in particular. So I wanna explain why I waited so long, why I locked my stuff up now, and why I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m a-okay with making it harder for people to see my stories.
Lurkers really are great, tho
I’m a chronic lurker, and have been since I started hanging out on the internet as a teen in the 00s. These days it’s just cuz I don’t feel a need to socialize very often, but back then it was because I was shy and knew I was socially awkward. Even if I made an account, I’d spend months lurking on message boards or forums or Livejournals, watching other people interact and getting a feel for that particular community’s culture and etiquette before I finally started interacting myself. And y’know, that approach saved me a lot of embarrassment. Over the course of my lurking on any site, there was always some other person who’d clearly joined up five minutes after learning the place existed, barged in without a care for their behavior, and committed so many social faux pas that all the other users were immediately annoyed with them at best. I learned a lot observing those incidents. Lurk More is Rule 33 of the internet for very good reason.
Lurking isn’t bad or weird or creepy. It’s perfectly normal. I love lurking. It’s hard for me to not lurk - socializing takes a lot of energy out of me, even via text. (Heck it took 12 hours for me to write this post, I wish I was kidding--) Occasionally I’ll manage longer bouts of interaction - a few weeks posting here, almost a year chatting in a discord there - but I’m always gonna end up going radio silent for months at some point. I used to feel bad about it, but I’ve long since made peace with the fact that it’s just the way my brain works. I’m a chronic lurker, and in the long term nothing is going to change that.
The thing with being a chronic lurker is that you have to accept that you are not actually seen as part of the community you are lurking in. That’s not to say that lurkers are unimportant - lurkers actually are important, and they make up a large proportion of any online community - but it’s simple cause and effect. You may think of it as “your community”, but if you’ve never said a word, how is the community supposed to know you exist? If I lurked on someone’s LJ, and then that person suddenly friendslocked their blog, I knew that I had two choices: Either accept that I would never be able to read their posts again, or reach out to them and ask if I could be added to their friends list with the full understanding that I was a rando they might not decide to trust. I usually went with the first option, because my invisibility as a lurker was more important to me than talking to strangers on the internet.
Lurking is like sitting on a park bench, quietly people-watching and eavesdropping on the conversations other people are having around you. You’re in the park, but you’re not actively participating in anything happening there. You can see and hear things that you become very interested in! But if you don’t introduce yourself and become part of the conversation, you won’t be able to keep listening to it when those people walk away. When fandom migrated away from Livejournal, people moved to new platforms alongside their friends, but lurkers were often left behind. No one knew they existed, so they weren’t told where everyone else was going. To be seen as part of a fandom community, you need to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known, etc. etc.
There’s nothing wrong with lurking. There can actually be benefits to lurking, both for the lurkers and the communities they lurk in. It’s just another way to be in a fandom. But if that is how you exist in fandom--and remember, I say this as someone who often does exist that way in fandom--you need to remember that you’re on the outside looking in, and the curtains can always close.
I’ve always been super sympathetic to lurkers, because I am one. I know there’s a lot of people like me who just don’t socialize often. I know there’s plenty of reasons why someone might not make an account on the internet - maybe they’re nervous, maybe they’re young and their parents don’t allow them to, maybe they’re in a bad situation where someone is monitoring their activity, maybe they can only access the internet from public computer terminals. Heck, I’ve never even logged into AO3 on my phone--if I’m away from my computer I just read what’s publicly available. 
I know I have people lurking on my fics. I know my fics probably mean a lot to someone I don’t even know exists. I know this because there are plenty of fics I love whose writers don’t know I exist.
I love my commenters personally; I love my lurkers as an abstract concept. I know they’re there and I wish them well, and if they ever de-lurk I love them all the more.
So up until last year I never considered archive-locking my fic, because I get it. The AI scraping was upsetting, but I still hesitated because I was thinking of lurkers and guests and remembering what it felt like to be 15 and wondering if it’d be worth letting a stranger on the internet know I existed and asking to be added to their friends list just so I could reread a funny post they made once.
But the internet has changed a lot since the 00s, and fandom has changed with it. I’ve read some things and been doing some thinking about fandom-as-community over the last few years, and reading through the lore.fm drama made me decide that it’s time for me to set some boundaries.
I still love my lurkers, and I feel bad about leaving any guest commenters behind, especially if they’re in a situation where they can’t make an account for some reason. But from here on out, even my lurkers are going to have to do the bare minimum to read my fics--make an AO3 account.
Should we gatekeep fandom?
I’ve seen a few people ask this question, usually rhetorically, sometimes as a joke, always with a bit of seriousness. And I think…yeah, maybe we should. Except wait, no, not like that--
A decade ago, when people talked about fandom gatekeeping and why it was bad to do, it intersected with a lot of other things, mainly feminism and classism. The prevalent image of fandom gatekeeping was, like, a man learning that a woman likes Star Wars and haughtily demanding, “Oh, yeah? Well if you’re REALLY a fan, name ten EU novels” to belittle and dismiss her, expecting that a “real fan” would have the money and time to be familiar with the EU, and ignoring the fact that male movie-only fans were still considered fans. The thing being gatekept was the very definition of “being a fan” and people’s right to describe themselves as one.
That’s not what I mean when I say maybe fandom should gatekeep more. Anyone can call themselves a fan if they like something, that’s fine. But when it comes to the ability to enjoy the fanworks produced by the fandom community…that might be something worth gatekeeping.
See, back in the 00s, it was perfectly common for people to just…not go on the internet. Surfing the web was a thing, but it was just, like, a fun pastime. Not everyone did it. It wasn’t until the rise of social media that going online became a thing everyone and their grandmother did every day. Back then, going on the internet was just…a hobby.
So one of the first gates online fandom ever had was the simple fact that the entire world wasn’t here yet.
The entire world is here now. That gate has been demolished.
And it’s a lot easier to find us now. Even scattered across platforms, fandom is so centralized these days. It isn’t a network of dedicated webshrines and forums that you can only find via webrings anymore, it’s right there on all the big social media sites. AO3 didn’t set out to be the main fanfic website, but that’s definitely what it’s become. It’s easy for people to find us--and that includes people who don’t care about the community, and just want “content.”
Transformative fandom doesn’t like it when people see our fanworks as “content”. “Content” is a pretty broad term, but when fandom uses it we’re usually referring to creative works that are churned out by content creators to be consumed by an audience as quickly as possible as often as possible so that the content creator can generate revenue. This not-so-new normal has caused a massive shift in how people who are new to fandom view fanworks--instead of seeing fic or art as something a fellow fan made and shared with you, they see fanworks as products to be consumed.
Transformative fandom has, in general, always been a gift economy. We put time and effort into creating fanworks that we share with our fellow fans for free. We do this so we don’t get sued, but fandom as a whole actually gets a lot out of the gift economy. Offer your community a story, and in return you can get comments, build friendships, or inspire other people to write things that you might want to read. Readers are given the gift of free stories to read and enjoy, and while lurking is fine, they have the choice to engage with the writer and other readers by leaving comments or making reclists to help build the community.
And look, don’t get me wrong. People have never engaged with fanfic as much as fan writers wish they would. There has always been “no one comments anymore” wank. There have always been people who only comment to say “MORE!” or otherwise demand or guilt trip writers into posting the next chapter. But fandom has always agreed that those commenters are rude and annoying, and as those commenters navigate fandom they have the chance to learn proper community etiquette.
However, now it seems that a lot of the people who are consuming fanworks aren’t actually in the community. 
I won’t say “they aren’t real fans” because that’s silly; there’s lots of ways to be a fan. But there seem to be a lot of fans now who have no interest in fandom as a community, or in adhering to community etiquette, or in respecting the gift economy. They consume our fics, but they don’t appreciate fan labor. They want our “content”, but they don’t respect our control over our creations.
And even worse--they see us as a resource. We share our work for free, as a gift, but all they see is an open-source content farm waiting to be tapped into. We shared it for free, so clearly they can do whatever they want with it. Why should we care if they feed our work into AI training datasets, or copy/paste our unfinished stories into ChatGPT to get an ending, or charge people for an unnecessary third-party AO3 app, or sell fanbindings on etsy for a profit without the author’s permission, or turn our stories into poor imitations of podfics to be posted on other platforms without giving us credit or asking our consent, while also using it to lure in people they can datascrape for their Forbes 30 Under 30 company? 
And sure, people have been doing shady things with other people’s fanworks since forever. Art theft and reposting has always been a big problem. Fanfic is harder to flat-out repost, but I’ve heard of unauthorized fic translations getting posted without crediting the original author. Once in…I think the 2010s? I read a post by a woman who had gone to some sort of local bookselling event, only to find that the man selling “his” novel had actually self-published her fanfic. (Wish I could find that one again, I don’t even remember where I read it.)
But aside from that third example, the thing is…as awful as fanart/writing theft is, back in the day, the main thing a thief would gain from it was clout. Clout that should rightfully go to the creators who gifted their work in the first place, yeah, but still. Just clout. People will do a lot of hurtful things for clout, but fandom clout means nothing outside of fandom. Fandom clout is not enough to incentivize the sort of wide-scale pillaging we’re seeing from community outsiders today.
Money, on the other hand… Well, fandom’s just a giant, untapped content farm, isn’t it? Think of how much revenue all that content could generate.
Lurkers are a normal and even beneficial part of any online community. Maybe one day they’ll de-lurk and easily slide into place beside their fellow fans because they already know the etiquette. Maybe they’re active in another community, and they can spread information from the community they lurk in to the community they’re active in. At the very least, they silently observe, and even if they’re not active community members, they understand the community.
Fans who see fanworks as “content” don’t belong in the same category as lurkers. They’re tourists. 
While reading through the initial Reddit thread on the lore.fm situation, I found this comment:
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[ID: Reddit User Cabbitowo says: ... So in anime fandoms we have a word called tourist and essentially it means a fan of a few anime and doesn't care about anime tropes and actively criticizes them. This is kind of how fandoms on tiktok feel. They're touring fanfics and fanart and actively criticizes tropes that have been in the fandom since the 60s. They want to be in a fandom but they don't want to engage in fandom 
OP totallymandy responds: Just entered back into Reddit after a long day to see this most recent reply. And as a fellow anime fan this making me laugh so much since it’s true! But it sorta hurts too when the reality sets in. Modern fandom is so entitled and bratty and you’d think it’s the minors only but that’s not even true, my age-mates and older seem to be like that. They want to eat their cake and complain all whilst bringing nothing to the potluck… :/ END ID]
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“Tourist” is an apt name for this sort of fan. They don’t want to be part of our community, and they don’t have to be in order to come into our spaces and consume our work. Even if they don’t steal our work themselves, they feel so entitled to it that they’re fine with ignoring our wishes and letting other people take it to make AI “podfics” for them to listen to (there are a lot of comments on lore.fm’s shutdown announcement video from people telling them to just ignore the writers and do it anyway). They’ll use AI to generate an ending to an unfinished fic because they don’t care about seeing “the ending this writer would have given to the story they were telling”, they just want “an ending”. For these tourist fans, the ends justify the means, and their end goal is content for them to consume, with no care for the community that created it for them in the first place.
I don’t think this is confined to a specific age group. This isn’t “13-year-olds on Wattpad” or “Zoomers on TikTok” or whatever pointless generation war we’re in now. This is coming from people who are new to fandom, whose main experience with creative works on the internet is this new content culture and who don’t understand fandom as a community. That description can be true of someone from any age group.
It’s so easy to find fandom these days. It is, in fact, too easy. Newcomers face no hurdles or challenges that would encourage them to lurk and observe a bit before engaging, and it’s easy for people who would otherwise move on and leave us alone to start making trouble. From tourist fans to content entrepreneurs to random people who just want to gawk, it’s so easy for people who don’t care about the fandom community to reap all of its fruits. 
So when I say maybe fandom should start gatekeeping a bit, I’m referring to the fact that we barely even have a gate anymore. Everyone is on the internet now; the entire world can find us, and they don’t need to bother learning community etiquette when they do. Before, we were protected by the fact that fandom was considered weird and most people didn’t look at it twice. Now, fandom is pretty mainstream. People who never would’ve bothered with it before are now comfortable strolling in like they own the place. They have no regard for the fandom community, they don’t understand it, and they don’t want to. They want to treat it just like the rest of the content they consume online.
And then they’re surprised when those of us who understand fandom culture get upset. Fanworks have existed far longer than the algorithmic internet’s content. Fanworks existed long before the internet. We’ve lived like this for ages and we like it.
So if someone can’t be bothered to respect fandom as a community, I don’t see why I should give them easy access to my fics.
Think of it like a garden gate
When I interact with commenters on my fic, I have this sense of hospitality.
The comment section is my front porch. The fic is my garden. I created my garden because I really wanted to, and I’m proud of it, and I’m happy to share it with other people. 
Lots of people enjoy looking at my garden. Many walk through without saying anything. Some stop to leave kudos. Some recommend my garden to their friends. And some people take the time to stop by my front porch and let me know what a beautiful garden it is and how much they’ve enjoyed it. 
Any fic writer can tell you that getting comments is an incredible feeling. I always try to answer all my comments. I don’t always manage it, but my fics’ comment sections are the one place that I manage to consistently socialize in fandom. When I respond to a comment, it feels like I’m pouring out a glass of lemonade to share with this lovely commenter on my front porch, a thank you for their thank you. We take a moment to admire my garden together, and then I see them out. The next time they drop by, I recognize them and am happy to pour another glass of lemonade.
My garden has always been open and easy to access. No fences, no walls. You just have to know where to find it. Fandom in general was once protected by its own obscurity, an out-of-the-way town that showed up on maps but was usually ignored.
But now there’s a highway that makes it easy to get to, and we have all these out-of-towner tourists coming in to gawk and steal our lawn ornaments and wonder if they can use the place to make themselves some money.
I don’t care to have those types trampling over my garden and eating all my vegetables and digging up my flowers to repot and sell, so I’ve put up a wall. It has a gate that visitors can get through if they just take the time to open it.
Admittedly, it’s a small obstacle. But when I share my fics, I share them as a gift with my fellow fans, the ones who understand that fandom is a community, even if they’re lurkers. As for tourist fans and entrepreneurs who see fic as content, who have no qualms ignoring the writer’s wishes, who refuse to respect or understand the fandom community…well, they’re not the people I mean to share my fic with, so I have no issues locking them out. If they want access to my stories, they’ll have to do the bare minimum to become a community member and join the AO3 invite queue.
And y’know, I’ve said a lot about fandom and community here, and I just want to say, I hope it’s not intimidating. When I was younger, talk about The Fandom Community made me feel insecure, and I didn’t think I’d ever manage to be active enough in fandom spaces to be counted as A Member Of The Community. But you don’t have to be a social butterfly to participate in fandom. I’ll always and forever be a chronic lurker, I reblog more than I post, I rarely manage to comment on fic, and I go radio silent for months at a time--but I write and post fanfiction. That’s my contribution.
Do you write, draw, vid, gif, or otherwise create? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you leave comments? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you curate reclists? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you maintain a fandom blog or fuckyeah blog? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you provide a space for other fans to convene in? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you regularly send asks (off anon so people know who you are)? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you have fandom friends who you interact with? Congrats, you're a community member.
There’s lots of ways to be a fan. Just make sure to respect and appreciate your fellow fans and the work they put in for you to enjoy and the gift economy fandom culture that keeps this community going.
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