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lythea-creation · 4 months

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I'm Nothing Like You - Remus Lupin x daughter reader (alternative ending)

Originial Version

summary: So this is basically like my original Oneshot, but with a turn in the middle. I don't wanna tell you too much here.

warnings: Basically just angst ig

word count: 1.589

Author's note: Feel free to check out my Masterlists and make requests. No reposting please! Reblogging, comments and requests are always appreciated <3 If you like the story/my writing, please don't be shy to say it via comments or asks! It takes you a few seconds and might make my day. It's the best appreciation you can show to a writer you like.

Requested? Yes

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I had always lived in the shadow of my younger twin sister Amy. Growing up in an orphanage you quickly learn if you are sociable.

Amy never had any difficulties to make new friends. She was the center of attention. Beautiful, charismatic, smart, funny. She had it all.

Meanwhile I was rather a quiet and shy person, mostly overlooked.

The only thing I was good at was drawing. But nobody seemed to be interested in that.

Whenever I scribbled into my notebooks because I was overwhelmed with a task, I got scolded for playing around, ruining my expensive devices. Then they would blame my bad grades on drawing instead of paying attention in class.

They had no idea, did not even want to understand that it was hard for me to learn. Theory simply was not my strength. But instead of helping me they mocked me.

Amy had tried to support me, explain it to me. But she had given up after some time. I was a hopeless case.

I thought that might all change when we got an acceptance letter for Hogwarts. We were both absolutely excited to get to study magic, live in a literal castle instead of a run down, underfunded house.

But it turned out that I was a failure at either school.

I transformed only one half of an object, accidentally invented new potions, did not manage to fly higher than three feet above the ground.

Amy attempted to encourage me, told me that I only needed more time, but it felt hopeless. No matter how hard I tried, how much longer I trained, how many times I practiced, I just did not get any better.

What was I supposed to do?

It all took a turn for the worse in our second year, when Remus Lupin became our teacher. None of us had known that he was our father until Dumbledore had revealed it. In contrast to me Dumbledore appeared to know everything.

Amy and Remus quickly came along. Amy's easy-going nature and her awesome grades were making it hard for people not to love her.

I, on the other hand, was having difficulties to bond with Remus. Ironic that I was even failing in that matter.

We just did not have anything in common.

Instead of having a greater support system, it felt like I was falling behind my sister even more. I felt like an outcast when the three of us spend time together, even though they tried to integrate me.

I wondered if they also turned away from me if we were not blood-related.

“Now it's time to get your grades”, Professor McGonagall announced.

I was anxiously scribbling away at a piece of parchment. Remus had bought me a pencil set for my birthday.

When the professor handed me my grades, she sent me a disappointed look. I had barely managed not to fail, all thanks to Amy's help and my endless hours of studying and practicing when everybody else had been out and having fun together.

“I'm so excited to visit dad again”, Amy rejoiced during the train ride.

We had just finished our fourth year at Hogwarts. So we only knew Remus for three years now. When had Amy started calling him dad?

I was torn between being happy for her and feeling even more like an outcast.

When the train arrived I watched Amy hugging Remus from afar. They looked like a picture perfect father-daughter-duo.

I felt my heart sink at the sight. Somehow it felt like I had even lost my sister all of a sudden.

My hands tightened around the straps of my backpack. Amy and I were used to not carrying around to much. So instead of a suitcase like most of the other students we were usually just taking a backpack with us.

Remus had not spotted me yet. Amy had not noticed that I had stayed behind. Why was I even here? I was always feeling out of place anyway.

My feet moved on their own, away from the platform. The piece of paper in my backpack was only spurring me on in not wanting to go to Remus' place.

Back in my muggle time Amy and I had been wandering around the city a lot as nobody really cared if we were gone or not. So I was used to the labyrinth of streets and did not even have to think about the way to Jenny's place.

Jenny was the only muggle friend I had left. She understood me. So it was intuitive to go over to her. Where else was I supposed to go anyway?

After about two hours of walking around I finally arrived at her apartment. Ringing the doorbell was natural. I had spent a lot of time with her after all.

“Hey, (f/n)”, Jenny greeted me surprised but excited, immediately enveloping me in a hug.

“Hey, Jen. Can I come in?”, I inquired.

“Of course”, she assured me and took a step to the side to let me in.

Thanks to the laws she did not know about the literally magical aspects of my life. But I was just leaving that part out when telling her how I was doing.

“Not that I'm complaining, but what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be at Remus' place?”, she wondered.

By now we were in her room, a full tea cup in our hands.

“Yeah, it's just … I kinda feel like I don't belong there, ya know?”, I confessed. “I also barely passed school again.”

“But you did pass, didn't you?”, she questioned.

“Yes, but with so much effort that pathetic would be an understatement”, I proposed.

“I've known you for quite some time now”, Jenny recalled. “And trust me when I say that I've never met anyone that's more hard-working than you. That's a skill as well. Don't think it's a weakness. It's not your fault that learning is hard for you.”

“Thanks, Jen”, I whispered.

“So how about some video games to get your mind off of things?”, she suggested.

She did not just manage but excelled at that. I had no idea when I had laughed so much the last time.

After eating breakfast together the next morning we both settled that I should return to Remus and my sister, although I was reluctant about it.

Ringing Remus' doorbell was not even nearly natural. My whole body was feeling paralyzed as I could not muster the courage to lift my arm.

“(f/n)”, Amy exclaimed and ran into my arms.

She had been so fast that I had barely realized her opening the door.

“Where the hell have you been? We were looking for you the whole day and were just about to leave again”, she enlightened me.

Suddenly guilt was creeping up inside of me. I had not expected them to recognize my absence. They seemed truly upset. It looked like they had not slept at all.

“I'm so glad you're back”, Remus joined in, hugging us both.

He let go again and gently pushed us into the house. “Come on in, first. We can talk about it while sitting down”, he considered.

I did as he said, taking a seat next to Amy on the couch.

The mood was tense and uncomfortable, none of us knowing how to break the silence right now. Even my outgoing sister was silent for once.

“So ...”, Remus uttered. “Where have you been?”

“I was over at Jenny's place”, I enlightened them.

“You're still talking? I thought you hate each other now”, Amy declared.

“No, we made up about a year ago”, I revealed.

“Why didn't you tell me?”, she wondered.

“Well, I was kinda busy”, I brushed it off.

“(f/n)”, Remus intervened. “Of course, it's completely fine if you wanna meet your friends, but please tell at least one of us where you are. We were worried sick.”

I was taken aback by his statement. Worried?

“I thought you'd be thrilled to have some quality time alone”, I thought aloud.

“What?”, Amy mumbled dumbfounded.

“You two are getting along so well. I didn't wanna pull you down”, I claimed.

“Is that really what you're thinking?”, Amy questioned.

“I'm just nothing like you, neither of you. I feel like I don't belong here”, I admitted.

“I'm so sorry”, Remus muttered, his head hanging low. “I had no idea you were feeling left out. I should have paid more attention.”

“No, I'm not saying you're at fault”, I justified him.

“You might not. But I do. No matter how long we've known, I am your dad. It's my responsibility to take care of you, make you feel loved and supported. And I know I'm not the best at it. But I'll definitely try to work on myself to show you how much you matter to me”, he promised.

“I ...” I was overwhelmed. To me his words were feeling absolutely surreal. How could he love me?

“You have a bad habit of underestimating yourself”, Amy pointed out. “We wanna be here for you, but you have to let us in.”

“I guess … I just don't know how”, I assumed.

“We'll figure it out”, Remus assured me, pulling me into his arms. “How about doing something you love? Present your world to us.”

#harry potter #remus lupin x reader #daughter reader #twins #angst #fluff #drama

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n1ghtcrwler · 3 months

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As I have been saying for some years, the United States is a parody of itself, a failed experiment that became a heretical movement along the way. I wrote a post way back in the early days of this blog warning that the United States was at a stage in development where we would have to choose the type of maturity we would have as a nation, and we were choosing the wrong path by basing our decision on fear. I'll try to find it and reblog it after this post goes up.

I mean that last bit specifically as a Christian heresy; the United States has positioned itself as a core religious structure, canonized its founders, and elevated its military and police to a sort of priesthood, all while using Christian imagery and terminology to do so. This is why I refuse things like pledging to the flag or standing up for the national anthem, and have encouraged my children to do the same at school. I take my Christian faith too seriously to play at mixing it like this.

Anyway, the experiment, as stated, was simple. A nation in which the power was vested in the people, and expressed through elected officials, for the betterment of society. It was flawed from the beginning, not least in that the original framing of the experiment delineated which people had power vested in them and which didn't, which goes against the entire point; but at least there was a system of correcting that to some degree. Which is insufficient, but better than nothing. Other nations picked up the basic idea, and began their own versions of the experiment. Most of them did so much better than the USA did. And, oddly enough, we refused to learn from those successes, and insisted not only that our iteration of the experiment was adequate for the task, but that it was actually the best iteration, despite all available evidence to the contrary.

Having persisted in this mindset, established the nation as sacred, and forming an identity built on fear, we have for some time now been stuck with a government that is incapable of accomplishing anything of value, having only a capacity to cause harm to others with any efficiency, in which one party (the GOP) is actively trying to destroy what little of worth remains for this nation and the only viable alternative (the Democrats) lacks the political will to do anything about it. I don't believe that they are actually working together in any real, conspiratorial sense, as is generally suggested by people who highlight the ways the DNC will bend backwards to negotiate and play nice with the GOP; I think the DNC is just so afraid of what would happen if they lose all power that they're unwilling to make big risky changes using whatever power they have. Because we are a nation built on fear, and the DNC is, by necessity, a party built on unified fear of the GOP's ideology, rather than a party with a true ideology of its own.

Where was I?

What we are seeing now is not the beginning of the end. That happened a long time ago. What we are seeing now is the end. The battle is not lost, but we have run out of ways to win using the existing model. If this is going to be a nation worth anything at all to the people in it, if we are going to see the USA become a place where anything good can be accomplished, it will require a new tactic. I don't mean abandoning voting; voting is a necessary part of this. But once the votes are cast, if the power of the GOP is mitigated, the DNC must be held accountable to set goals and throw real effort into accomplishing those goals. It must become an ideological party and not just a passive safeguard.

Make no mistake. I do not generally support the DNC. I have never been enrolled as a Democrat and I have historically voted for third parties rather than support a Democratic candidate. I'm not saying this because I think the ideology of the DNC would necessarily align with mine on most topics. I'm saying this because I don't think some of you know what you're up against. I don't think some of you realize what is happening outside of your optimistic leftist spaces. There are, undoubtedly, people who will vote for Trump because they are ignorant of what that vote means for the future of this country. And there are people who will vote for Trump because they are fully on board with the destruction of America and the establishment of a monarchy in all but name. But the vast majority of people who are voting red this November are not interested in any of that. In my experience, the most common stance is that there is one or two things they want, absolutely want, and they will pay any price to get it. They aren't interested in knowing or thinking about the cost. The nation can be thrown under the bus. The world can burn. YOU can burn. As long as they won the policy they wanted. They will not consider any price too high until it burns them, too.

I am not telling you this to make you afraid. Do not ground this work in fear. Be strategic. Don't do this because you're afraid of what will happen if you don't, do it because you see the direction you know we need to go and you're willing to put effort into pushing in that direction. Because jokes about Trump are fun and cute, but they do not stop anyone still planning to vote for him today. Pointing out the dangers of another Trump presidency does not give them pause. They do not believe the decisions by the Supreme Court are bad things yet, and they won't before January. The plan needs to be better than this. You need to work. You need to stop this endless internal bickering about a perfect solution, put people in office who will actually keep the GOP for accumulating more power, and then bully those people into doing their jobs and getting valuable work done. The nation will be on life support until the GOP is broken or given the chance to kill it. Don't play nice with that. Don't ever let anyone play nice with that again.

#us politics #2024 elections #joe biden #donald trump

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ereardon · 1 year

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Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Kiss me, it's a mystery, let's figure it out together.

*All of my fics are 18+. Please do not repost my work without consent or steal my work. Reblogs and comments give me life so please do interact if you'd like!

✤: Fluff

❂: Angst

❀: Smut

Full-length series:

❀❂✤ Come Back — Bradley x OC [Maggie Brooms] – Complete

Eight years ago, Bradley Bradshaw was just a college boyfriend who broke your heart. Now, he’s back in your life after a coincidental reunion, and he’s adamant about starting up a friendship. Will it be possible to be just friends with Bradley, or is he inevitably going to end up ruining everything you’ve spent the better part of a decade rebuilding?

❀❂✤ That Summer — Bradley x Reader – Complete

One night during the summer you turned eighteen, you woke up to a surprise. Your father, a retired Navy Admiral, had posted bail for the son of a former colleague who was now orphaned and had gotten himself mixed up with the law. Instead of letting him get lost in the judicial system, your father signed himself up as Bradley Bradshaw’s guardian to prevent him from going to juvie. You were explicitly told to stay away from the boy in the attic room. But as the summer went on, you and Bradley struck up an unlikely friendship that turned into a forbidden relationship. Bradley tipped your world upside down, challenging everything you had once thought you knew. How could the two of you think it would end any differently than it did when your father called the cops the night he found the two of you in bed together?

❀❂✤ Golden Hour — Bradley x Bob x OC [Dr. Olive James]

Willow, Georgia. Barely even a town, just a speck on a map that you tried to wipe off, mistaking it for a crumb. You’re the outsider: a fancy New York doctor, fresh out of a failed engagement, with zero primary care experience. You’re also the new town doctor, taking over for a recent retiree who was beloved. His son, Bob Floyd, is the other physician at the practice, and takes an immediate dislike to you. But you were looking for a fresh start, and Willow doesn’t seem all that bad if you can get past the fact that there's only one restaurant in town. It helps that you've caught the eye of Bradley Bradshaw, the town attorney, despite the fact that you vowed to take a break from dating. How long until you start to make friends in a town where social circles have been set in stone since elementary school? And what will it take to make Bob Floyd see you’re not as bad as he wants to believe you are?

Miniseries:

❀❂✤ His Best Friend's Wedding — Bradley x Reader – Complete

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw has been your best friend for a decade. He’s also your fiancé’s best man. So when he shows up at your hotel room the night before your wedding, it’s just because he’s your friend, right?

The Stranger — Bradley x Bob x OC

Bradley Bradshaw left an impression — after finding him naked and passed out after a night of drinking in your front yard, he’s anxious to never see you again in his life and relive the embarrassment. But there’s something about him you just can’t let go. He’s a project, and you hate to admit you love a fixer upper. Bradley is hesitant to let you in, but you’re persistent. Is he making a massive mistake?

One shots:

❂ Too Far Gone — Bradley x Reader – Complete

Your life changed forever the moment you fell for Bradley Bradshaw. But his life wasn’t an easy one to fit into. He had more baggage than lost and found at JFK airport. You were always one for a fixer upper. Bradley could be your ultimate passion project. But was he too far gone for you to save him?

❂ Darkness — Bradley x Reader – Complete

Darkness surrounds your life with Bradley. But every time he pulls away, you pull him back in. It's your job to save him from the darkness.

#bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster x reader #rooster fanfic #rooster top gun #rooster imagine #top gun imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun x reader #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x oc

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ask-de-writer · 1 year

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Return to the Master Story Index

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THE FISHERMAN'S LEG (Part 8 of 20)

A sequel to Dee 1/2 Demon

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

10440 words (work in progress)

TUMBLR EXEMPTION

Blog holding members of Tumblr.com may freely reblog this story provided that the title, author and copyright information remain intact, unaltered, and are displayed at the head of the story.

Fan art, stories, music, cosplay and other fan activity is actively encouraged.

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New to the story? Read from the beginning HERE.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

The lead oarsman grumbled, “Only eighty six of copper cash? We would have had so much more if Minami had not been along! Pity that the Sea Lion is his boat and he won't let us use it unless he is along.”

While he was counting out the crew's shares, Magistrate Lim asked sympathetically, “Narutsu san, what exactly transpired out there on the water to say such a thing of Minami san?”

They all assumed the proper kneeling of persons before the Tribunal and lead oarsman Narutsu explained, “Good Magistrate Lim, recently he forced iron works of his own making on all the fleet.

“For two years past, we had iron works so good that never did a rope jam or anything work less than perfectly. As the owner, we could not prevent him from doing so for his own boat, the Sea Lion. By the threat of refusing their catch, he made the other boats do so as well.

“None of his iron work functions well at all, and those are the good times. Ratchets do not hold properly on winches, letting line go when it should not, or worse, the whole winch will freeze up and it and time is wasted making it work. Net guides fail to turn, making it difficult to pull in the fish. The pulling block on the crane, needful to lifting the heavy loads of nets with fish, not only froze, the rope slipped off of a pulley sheave and jammed firmly when it was most needed.

“We were working to get the rope loose and back on the sheave when Minami struck it on the side with the iron end of a long boat hook. The force of his strike caused a sharp edge to break the rope in two and completely broke the whole pulling block.

“The slowness of pulling the net in by hand in a tangled heap because the take up roller's pawls would not hold let most of the school get away.

“Worse, he blamed the whole debacle on Dee san and her friends, though it was obvious to us all that it was wholly his fault and no other's.”

Magistrate Lim thoughtfully stroked his neat beard and mustaches for a moment. “Are you aware, good oarsmen, that Minami san owes you all a substantial sum of money? For the last two of years he has been taking in all the catch of every boat that went out on a day without even weighing it. He then paid you all for only the fish that he sold, but not for those that his poor management of the Fish Market allowed to spoil.

“He owes you money for all of the fish that spoiled, nearly a third of the catch. The Tribunal has records of the money that he earned, and how much was lost. We have divided up his arrears by the number of boats out for each fishing day. Due to his poor record keeping, that is the best that we can do.

“Given that, he owes the group of you a total of,” he pauses to consult a sheet in Miko's neat calligraphy, “two of golden cash, of silver cash, one string and twenty two, of copper cash, three strings and nineteen.”

The crew sat in stunned silence. Finally lead oarsman Narutsu, shaking his head in disbelief, asked “Good Magistrate, how can we recover this money? It is our understanding that he has nothing.”

Bowing politely to them, Magistrate Lim replied, “Not quite so, Narutsu san. He has still the Sea Lion. His house, land and the ice house, are joint properties that cannot be seized.

“You have three avenues open to you. First, you may take a lein on the Sea Lion, giving you ownership until his debit is paid from shares of catch. He must have one tenth of the proper share. This will take a few years to pay off.

“Second, you may simply seize the Sea Lion, and write off the balance of the debit. Doing so will give you the boat as it is now and a loss on paper of about one cash of gold, of silver cash, one string. That loss can reduce your Tribute tax for up to three years. Miko san can give you precise details.

“Thirdly, you can continue as you are now, receiving a share of the arrears each time that he makes a payment to the Tribunal on his debit.”

The crew put their heads together, conferring on what to do.

At the Fish Market, a smiling Tanira watched as the girls working for her neatly put the display fish in an ice chest and covered all of the trays with thick blankets.

She offered, “Minara san, Takahara san, thanks to your good help, I have not only had a good day of sales, your backing me up down on the dock was invaluable.” She handed them hand tied strings with six copper cash each. “I did not miscount. Frankly, you girls are worth more to me than this but with all of the problems connected to this, it is all that I can afford.”

The girls bowed, “Thank you so much, Tanira san. Why don't you and young Ichuru come with us and share our evening meal with the Shop of Repairs gang? No charge, of course.”

Young Ichuru san was amazed and delighted by the meal that was brought in to a long table in the Chiasu warehouse. Not only was the food plentiful and tasty, all of the young ladies there treated him with the proper respect due to a grown up!

His mother was also somewhat goggle eyed, but for a different reason. “My word, Dee san, that is a big boat that you are making, isn't it?”

Dee bowed her pleasure as she replied, “It is indeed, Tanira san. It is a full twenty two paces long by nearly six wide. Beam, I think that the width is called.”

“That is amazing, Dee san! It will be the largest boat in Sabo when you are done with it! Even as wealthy as I know that you are, how can you afford so much fine, flawless lumber? But aren't those planks that I see stacked there awfully thin? A hand span wide but only about as thick as a chopstick? How?”

Patsu looked up from the big fish filet that she was tucking into and grinned, “It is dirt cheap, Tanira san! You won't believe this, but those planks are bamboo!”

She waited for that bombshell to go off in Tanira's mind before adding, “We found something in an oldish fold book from Chin. It told us how to make wood soft so that fun things can be done to it. We took it a step further and turn bamboo into bamgoo! By products of making bamgoo give us both a lot of fiber and the glue that we use on all of our boats now, as well as being able to form those thin planks.”

One of the other girls at the table, seeing that Patsu was being free with info but holding back the bamgoo process, chimed in, “We know that those planks are thin, Tanira san, but when we are finished there will be five layers of them. That will be very strong.”

Dinner over, one of the girls gave Ichuru san a toy boat as long as arms. It was made of the same thin bamgoo planks as the big boat that they were building.

As they emerged into the street, they were met by Minami, who was in the company of Constable Canra.

As he was starting to demand, “Where is my din . . .” the Constable tapped him gently with his cudgel.

Reminding him with soft words he stated, “Do not become unruly, Minami san, or I shall take you before Magistrate Lim.”

Minami glared at the Constable but went on, “Where is my dinner, woman? You have been dining with the enemies of all goodness and forgotten your husband.”

Not raising her voice but her anger plain, Tanira retorted, “Your dinner is in the same place that your manners have gone, you foolish man! Buy it out of your catch shares until you learn that courtesy which costs nothing will buy you much!”

“Do you know what those men of mine have done?” He waived a paper at her, snapping, “They have placed a lein on my Sea Lion! They took all but ten percent of my share as a payment on it!”

She nodded, with a shrug, “So, how much did you get?”

He angrily cast two copper cash at her feet! “That is all for a whole day's work!”

Ichuru gathered up the coins and offered them back, “Father sanma, these are yours.”

To be Continued

<==PREVIOUS ~~ NEXT==>

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#THE FISHERMAN'S LEG #Part 8 of ?#Classical Fantasy #sequel to DEE 1/2 DEMON #WORK IN PROGRESS #Written by De Writer

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galacticwildfire · 8 months

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Leading on from something I reblogged earlier, nothing inspires me more than the fact that the majority of people who partake in my university course are aged probably 40 and over. I live at home due to financial and health reasons and study online. Due to this I've always been hung up on not having that typical uni experience, that's until I actually see that the varse majority of people enrolled aren't fresh out of high school or even their early twenties. They're people with kids and who are coming out of twenty year long careers or longer and studying their passions for no reason other than the fact it brings them happiness. It reminds me that life doesn't end at twenty one and that this ticking clock is just something of my imagination that this hustle cultures put there.

I've had this idea in my head my entire life I'd go into academia, now it's looking like that isn't going to happen both because of grades and because I've realised it just isn't quite for me after three years now of study. I've discovered I have multiple chronic illnesses that I'm learning to live with, mental and physical, after struggling for years without knowing why. My parents are probably going to split up this year and I've learned that I'd rather be single than force myself into a miserable marriage for the sake of societal expectations and to have a marriage, house and kids by the age of 25 like my parents did.

I'm also coming to realise and learn now that if people who have grandchildren are discovering and pursuing their passions then it's never too late to change paths and find what makes you truly happy. It's why I love 90's television, because so many sitcoms are based on people in their mid twenties and thirties finding their way when society is telling me in 2024 that because I'm twenty one without thousands in savings and a serious relationship that I've already failed at life. Watching the nanny also made me realise that I probably won't find myself for a long time to come, that I'll have shitty jobs and shitty relationships and that I'll come out better for it when I'm in my thirties and later. That university isn't the prime of my life despite what I've been told and that it's only just really begun.

I live in a small town where all my immediate friends are in serious relationships and having babies whilst I'm still trying to navigate how to live with these illnesses. I spent five years on and off heavy psychiatric medications whilst being undiagnosed because of the stigma surrounding bpd, hell I'm still officially undiagnosed despite about five doctors having told me that I have it but that they won't or can't officially diagnose me. My old psychologist wanted to diagnose me at seventeen but the governments mental health team refused because they wanted to be able to remove me from the system. Now at twenty one it's on my file as a prognosis and at this point it'll stay that way since I cannot physically access the resources to treat it and doctors don't want to be liable for not providing the proper care. As a result I've been put on medications that have done more damage than good, I've had psychotic and nervous breakdowns that I never really fully recovered from. I was mentally sharper at 13 than I am at 21 due to the medications having affected my memory and cognitive function, and I'm only just beginning to learn to live with that.

Only in the past month I've discovered pcos has been a contributing factor to this with my hormones being completely fucked. I gained twenty kg's, lost fifteen, and then gained the twenty back because of pcos, insulin resistance and quetiapine whilst being told I simply needed to eat less (i was bulimic and starving myself for days at a time). When I began univeristy it was a three year degree I convinced myself I'd finish in just over two years by taking extra classes, now It's going to take nearly four years because of my health problems. I'd planned on doing an honours and then a masters, it looks like I'm going to do neither and I'm learning to be okay with that.

Writing is what I plan to make a career out of, and now as I'm finishing my degree I'm aiming to finish my own original manuscript with the tools I've learned since writing is the one thing I never tire of. I didn't take a creative writing degree because of the pressure from people around me, but I spent years researching history to the point I'd be confident writing historical fiction and screenplays along with articles for public consumption rather than brutal academic criticisms. I've often said studying history at a university level's killed so much of my passion for it because it seems to discourage rather than encourage further study due to the cultural nature of academia.

It's brutal and I've seen so many masters students almost quit, or just quite entirely, because an asshole professor's torn years worth of work to shreds whilst another professor praised them for the exact same piece of work because it's so damn subjective. But because one singular person decided they didn't agree with their thesis or didn't think it was important, they've been all but blocked from continuing on the pathway they've spent years pursuing and unfortunately most people don't have the money to support themselves to retake an entire course because a person who had free university fifty years ago took a dislike to them.

I'm at the point in my life where I'm getting answers to my medical problems and focusing on balancing those and learning to live with them whilst accepting that the plans I made at 17 aren't going to turn out as I'd planned, but that it's okay because I have years to be where I want to be and that life doesn't end because I hadn't gotten there at 21. In ten years I might discover something else that brings me joy that I'm passionate about, hell in thirty years, and I might just change course then as well and be one of those people in my classes who have accomplished so much in their lives and have decided to go and pursue those passions instead of following the career they were forced to choose at eighteen and expected to stick with their entire lives. I'm finally learning that I need to curate my life and career around what is reasonable for myself instead of forcing myself to live up to other peoples expectations.

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abstractkind · 1 year

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Your tags on your boomer post reblog struck me square in the chest: https://www.tumblr.com/abstractkind/723326609719984128?source=share

My Nan is 80, and never really unpacked that her father was an abusive alcoholic from whom her older brothers protected her; older brothers who joined the ww2 effort asap to get away from him and left her and her mother and sister in law behind

I had success in talking about divorce increase as "even if it did 'go too far' whatever that means, as the response of my father's generation to what was done to people like my Nan his mum." It's a selfish argument but one that eases by acknowledging trauma, and encouraging the understanding that they weren't the only ones who were going through it, and that the help might be too late but it is intended as help

I'm saddened others can relate, but it's affirming to know I'm not the only one who's seen it.

I'm just old enough to have boomer parents as well, largely in part because they had me rather late in their life, and my grandparents were much the same. We've found countless ration tickets from the Great Depression in handling estates, and only know part of our family back home because my grandfather reconnected with them while he was drafted in Europe. I never met my grandfather, and I'm rather glad I didn't. He sounds much like your Nan's dad.

Once I was deemed old enough to not be carefully sheltered from reality, I was always aghast at how casually my grandmother, aunts, and uncles all spoke about the alcoholism and abuse like it was the most commonplace thing. And it gave me context for a lot of the things I saw from each of them in their own relationships with their spouses and children, including my own parents– even if I didn't forgive them for some of the shit they did. And it was commonplace. Of course, I can only talk from the perspective of the people I grew up around, but "poor immigrant or residential school families devastated by the wars and a system built to try and keep them out" was the common denominator, and most people I knew had similar stories. Me and my cousins were regularly told to marry within our cultural group because our husbands "might beat us, but at least they'd put food on the table". And that was just... accepted. My grandmother left and returned to my grandfather twice, because there just wasn't support for a single mother with kids at the time, and she plainly couldn't get by in the world alone.

My aunts and uncles (blood and otherwise) all seem to reflect this. I hear a lot of the same from that age group: that they would never do what their parents did. But a lot of them seem to consider that the bottom line, the one standard of parenthood to maintain and all that really mattered. They didn't terrorize us the same way as their parents, so they were good parents, end of. They still refuse to look critically at any other behaviors because they seem to feel like comparatively, we have it easy. And in some ways we do! I'm grateful for what is available to me now, and that if I ever faced what my grandmother did, my neighbours wouldn't shrug and call it my husband's right. But it didn't excuse their own failings, or the ignorance they still seem to cling to now when my cousins' kids try to explain what they're going through. Or how my union-pensioned uncle keeps railing about entitled kids on strikes.

But man, it hangs heavy on some of them still. Generational trauma as a concept felt like a gut punch when I learned about it, because that was absolutely the face of the people who raised me. Understanding that has absolutely helped me with conversations with them.

#domestic abuse tw #alcoholism tw #bit of a heavy subject matter and i definitely rambled #but for some reason im always surprised that it's never brought up #i was always told i had it easy. that was their world view.#i cycle back to the “i thought the goal was to raise your kids so theyd be secure and happy” thing a lot with the extended family

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marblesarelost · 9 months

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2023 recap and hopes for 2024

So to begin with:

I don't know who will or who might read this; I have more followers than I think, but I'm not sure who actually keeps up with me, and who just plows through and laughs at the memes and gifs and whatnot that I reblog, so, either way, welcome in, get a cup of coffee or tea and let's chat.

Starting off, in January of this year @palaquinn and I started dating, which has been one of the most extraordinary and amazing events in my entire life. I have no words for how happy he makes me, or how fantastic this has been and is.

This has been counterbalanced, however, by the ever-changing and dismal shape the USA is in. In May, I sold the house I had just paid off and moved to Wisconsin, after literal decades of declaring that I would never again live above the Mason-Dixon Line. However, Brian Kemp and the Republican dominated state legislature of Georgia forced my family's flight.

So far, it has been lovely, other than some growing pains -- I warned my Bee that the school system in the North was more stringent than that of Georgia, and on top of that, we moved to a suburb where the local high school is dedicated to ensuring the success of their students. Coming from an underserved school where probably 85% of the staff were overworked and burnt out, this came as a shock to their system. They are doing much better than they were, however, and we live in hope that they'll scrape by and pass this semester.

The town itself is very cute -- the downtown area especially could be a Hallmark Movie set -- and I intend next year to try and find some sort of ...I don't know. Club or something where I can try to make IRL friends. A book club or a knitting/crochet circle or something.

Workwise -- both day job and writing wise -- has not been fruitful this year at all, which is personally disappointing but at the same time both my therapist and some of my friends have said, Marbles, you've been healing. The last year at day job was so draining, and then you got dropkicked in the stomach by Jody's death. You've been healing; no wonder you haven't been writing. No wonder you haven't been able to work as you used to. So while I still feel guilty, I don't feel as guilty as I did a few months ago.

So 2023 has been extremely eventful; not in a bad way, either. It has been horribly stressful from time to time, but for the most part, all of the changes have been good ones.

Hopes and plans for 2024:

I'm putting through an application for a scholarship to an online court reporting school. I should graduate it before my birthday in March, and after that, I intend to either find a local court reporting firm to work for, or to go to work for the State or a local court system.

I intend to get certified both as an electronic court reporter and as an electronic transcriptionist through AAERT no later than June. I've been working as an electronic transcriptionist since 2008, full-time since 2010, and I've always kind of gaffed off the certification because I was afraid of failing, and the cost to take the certification tests are pretty high. But the certs will give me the opportunity to charge more for my work, and it'll look a lot better on my applications to either the courts or a court reporting firm.

Writing wise, I'd really like to get a zero draft finished. I don't really care what project, any of them will do, I just want to finish something. That kind of goes for my knitting, too; I'd really like to finish the blanket for Bee that has been languishing for so very, very long.

So I have some definite goals for 2024, and I have plans; I just need to work those plans in order for the plans to work. And I can do it. I know I can. I have so much support, so much vocal and real support now; Jody always meant well, he did support me in his own way, but it faded over the years. And that's okay.

What are your plans for 2024? What changes did you go through in 2023? How are you?

I'm listening.

Happy Holidays,

Marbles

#hope #plans #year in review #let's fuckin' go #2023 #2024

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talayse · 10 months

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Okay, I've been thinking about this all morning, so I'm just going to type it up and send it out into the Tumblrvoid and be done with it.

Last night I came across and post about how high school teachers really didn't seem to teach their students what plagiarism is aside from straight up copying verbatim someone else's work, with a reblog under it about how high school teacher's don't seem to be teaching kids how to write. (I'm going to try to find that post, I don't remember who's blog it was on, but I will put a link in this post and reblog this underneath if I find it.)

And, yes, to both.

Now, I graduated high school 20 years ago, so this experience is technically outdated, but in someways I think it may have only gotten worse. For context I attended a high school with a high student population in a rural US mid-Atlantic state. (We were also the school neighboring towns sent their high school students to because they didn't have enough kids to have their own school.)

I often deplore the quality of the education I received, and I had my share of good teachers and truly awful teachers through my years of K-12 in the US public education system, but I have to say the worst teachers were the high school teachers. I don't know if they were all simply burnt out, going through the motions, or truly thought they were doing a good job. I had an honors biology teacher that once handed us a list of the bones in the human body at the end of a class, told us to memorize it for a quiz the next day. We never talked about bones before that or after. There was no context, no discussion about the difference in endoskeleton or exoskeleton (didn't even cover that). Nothing. I think we all failed that test. I think the teacher was merely checking "skeleton" off his list so he could get back to trying to gross us out about algae in ice cream, his favourite pastime.

Which brings me to the "teaching students to write" topic.

In high school we pretty much only did two kinds of writing (unless you took creative writing or journalism, which, have some stories there too, but I digress). These were the 5 paragraph essay and the "10" page "research" paper.

The 5 paragraph essay was what was assigned most often and required absolutely NO research, and I believe was largely the provenance of English teachers. And this was what we received the most guidance on. The 5 paragraph essay, for those unfamiliar, is written as such:

Paragraph 1: Tell me what you are going to tell me. Paragraph 2-4: Tell me. Paragraph 5: Tell me what you told me

Teachers always assigned a topic for this, and it was generally something along the lines of "A proposed new law would require all cars to be painted yellow. Argue for or against." That was it. I can do those in my sleep. There was clear structure, and a topic and instructions.

The "10" page "research" paper on the other hand, I was always stymied by. In 4 years of high school, I only had to do 2 of them thankfully (as opposed to dozens and dozens of 5 paragraph essays). (Thinking back on it, I think history teachers assigned them, and I only had history three times and the last year I took an A level class not Honors. Maybe A levels didn't even do them (which if so, that's a large population of students not even being taught bad skills,) I know I was just about the only student that passed that A level class.) The "10" page "research" paper was something that the teacher always made sound like a big deal we should be scared of, but they were doing in order to help us in college. I was mostly perplexed by them. The guidelines the teacher gave us were thus:

-Pick a topic. -Come up with a hypothesis about that topic and PROVE it. -Format the paper correctly. This was explained in detail. There must be a cover page, it must by typed, ten pages, double spaced in Times New Roman only, twelve point font. You must cite three references at least*, and have a bibliography formatted as so (example provided).

The teacher would then arrange for us to have ONE class period in the high school library (which I think last purchased books in 1940.) And that was it. We received more information on formatting than anything else. I should mention there was no time in the school day to access the library without a teacher taking you as a class. The town's library was a short walk up the road, but if you missed the last after school bus home, someone had to pick you up. This was a rural town, no public transportation and most teens did not get their license until 17.

I always struggled with both choosing a topic that I could "prove" a hypothesis for, as I always associated "hypothesis" with asking a question in science, and any good scientist will tell you that proving or disproving is equally valid.

They never had us read a sample paper (or two, one good, one not so good, spot the difference), or gave us an idea of what a good topic and "hypothesis" was. Or how to find that. It was the equivalent of giving you something to assemble but no tools to do it with. And our "research" was entirely reading other people's research and regurgitating it, obviously high school students wouldn't be using primary sources, but I never felt like I was researching, I always felt I was using other people's work.

I was (and still am) very shy. Asking the teacher to be less vague was not an option. I winged two papers, did well enough on them, but I still do not understand what the teachers were looking for. With more life experience, and some vicarious college experience, I have found that even if you DO your own primary research, you still have to reference research people have made before you to justify your conclusions or I suppose, show how they were wrong. In fact a Master's level thesis that I help edit, the professor seemed to want the writer to say, "This is what I found out, this is how it relates to this aspect of the field and this is an established "expert" who found something similar." If it wasn't written that way, with reference to those "experts" it was no good, however, the references were always cited footnotes, something we did not do in high school. The professor did not seem to want the writer to draw their own conclusions (only agree with "experts") which was maddening.

If those high school teachers had said to me, "I want you to write a ten page paper on the Great Wall of China, why it was built, did it work and is it still relevant today?" I probably would have been less frustrated and probably written 20 pages. That's a solid purpose, there's clear guidance outside of the formatting. They really spent about 80% of the instruction time on the formatting which they gave us a reference for! I think I always felt I had to come to some new conclusion, solve a mystery, because otherwise I was just plagiarizing other people's research.

Can you tell I am still really frustrated by this?

TL:DR, no high school teachers are not teaching kids how to research, how to write and how to not to plagiarize beyond "don't copy word for word". They are throwing us in the pool of research without teaching us to swim, and letting us sink or swim.

*Keep in mind this was 1999-2003, IF people had a home computer it was a shared desktop. My first "research" paper was typed on a Brother Word Processor that had very little internal memory (anything you did you did on a floppy disk), a printer that was basically an electric type writer and no double space option. My second was written on a refurbished Macintosh that was third hand and crashed constantly. I still save continuously as I type things because of this. It also had a printer that sometimes worked, but I couldn't bring the paper into school on floppy to be printed as they only had PCs. I think my mom had to call the school and a teacher printed it for me at home.

**All 3 references had to be books, or newspapers, etc. If you used an internet source you had to back it up with hard copy resource. In the early Aughts the internet was considered an unreliable resource. Do mull that over. Ask yourself if that is still true today.

#plagiarism #plagiarism scandal #us public education #learning #education #high school

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lee--felix · 3 years

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I Can't Sleep | Masterlist |

Pairing: Jisung x gn!reader Word Count: 3.1k Genre: Fluff, friends to lovers Warnings: Jisung refers to reader as "girlie" like once otherwise it's pretty neutral, literally one curse word, non-descriptive mention of a sexual dream

Summary: There's something strangely comforting and safe about 1am. Insomnia has kept you up for weeks, your thoughts taunting you at every turn. Any other time of the day, you'd bite your tongue and continue on. But something about the tiredness in your roommate's voice and the quiet tick of the clock has you spilling confessions from your lips before you can catch them. He promised to forget everything in the morning if you say the word... so, forget or remember? A/n: If you have time to read, you have time to reblog. I mean that in the nicest way possible, because likes do not count towards the algorithm. Yeah I didn't proofread this, good luck. Please send corrections to my ask box. ost: Insomnia - Stray Kids

tick tick tick

You loved the sound of the clock, much to your roommate's dismay. He begged you to take the annoying thing into your bedroom if you really needed to hear it, but you smiled sweetly and refused. The sound of the city sometimes overwhelmed you and having a constant sound to focus on helped to calm you down. Occasionally when the clock wasn't enough and you were having an awful time, your roommate would pull the blackout curtains shut and try to get you to sing with him. Whether you joined him or not, his beautiful voice would fill the space until there was no room for your anxiety anymore. He was going to school for music, after all, so you weren't surprised by his skill.

No, what caught you off guard was how much you fell in love with Jisung every time he'd have a melody stuck in his head, his fingers tapping along the walls as he hummed and quietly worked out lyrics. You couldn't pinpoint exactly when the feelings began to creep up on you, but they slowly grew like a vine intertwining a rusty fence, blooming in the early morning hours when you least expected them. By day your lips were curled shut like the shy flowers, scared of the sunlight that could warm your heart if only you would just let it in.

You sat on the couch, staring into the darkness of the living room and listening to the clock tick away beside you. The landlord hadn't fixed your broken heating system yet, resulting in you shivering and clutching yourself for warmth as the cold leather chilled your skin. Jisung's hoodie from the day was draped over the back of the couch, his scent taunting you as you were close enough to take it in but not brave enough to snatch it for yourself. As the cold began to set in, anxiety went out the window as you hastily pulled on the warm article of clothing, wrapping yourself up in it like your life depended on it. This only resulted in more fear, more racing thoughts, and an endless cycle of your insomnia. You knew why you were wide awake every night, tossing and turning in bed for hours before finally making your way to the kitchen. You were never hungry, but occasionally you would make a warm cup of tea to take the chill out of your bones, another failed attempt to relax yourself back to sleep.

Every night you found yourself on the couch, time ticking away as you silently cursed your heart for fluttering when you heard his alarm go off. You always played it off like you had woken up shortly before he did, but the exhausted look on your face probably didn't help your case any. He would ask if you wanted coffee or to order breakfast with him, then sit on the couch with you until he had to leave for his morning classes. You'd walk him to the door, giving him a brief hug before he headed out into the cold. As soon as you'd lock the latch behind him, the tiredness would hit you and you'd shuffle off to bed until your own alarm woke you. It was like you could only sleep when he wasn't around, when fear of the truth accidentally slipping past your lips was non-existent. You couldn't tell him anything if he wasn't there.

"What's got you awake, girlie?" Jisung's tired voice was one of your favorite of his tones, low and grumbled but with an extract of sincerity. You knew you could always get the truth out of him when he first woke up, whether it be about who ate the last of the cookie dough you were saving or why his attitude had changed recently. He wasn't the best liar, but he was significantly worse first thing in the morning. You glanced at the clock, realizing he was supposed to still be asleep. How dare he ask you why you're awake when here he was, sleepless just like you.

"Too cold to sleep." You didn't turn to look at him, knowing you would only fall in love with him again if you saw him right now. You had a weak spot for his bed head, baggy pajama pants, and sleepy gaze.

"And I thought I was a terrible liar." He chuckled, opening the closet in the hallway and pulling out one of the many blankets he kept stored in it. Sometimes you thought he had to be collecting blankets, he was always coming home with new ones. If the closet was full, you could only imagine how many blankets had to be sprawled out on his bed right now. You figured it must be really comfortable, you'd probably fall asleep in an instant.

"Why are you up?" You quickly retorted, knowing that it was near impossible to lie to him. At best you would be caught and called out, at worst you would upset him by avoiding the truth. As you waited for a response, he draped the blanket over you before making his way to the kitchen. The unexpected gesture caused your heart to skip a beat as you pulled the blanket closer, soaking up every ounce of warmth you could get from it.

"Can't tell if I like the song I recorded or not. I've been stressed about it all day and it's due in the morning." He sighed, grabbing a couple mugs from the cupboard and making as much noise as humanly possible doing so. You had never met someone so clumsy and noisy in your life, but he was so adorable fumbling around with things that you never had the heart to scold him. It was easier to clean up broken glass in a fit of laughter than it was to pull your eyes away from him even for a moment. "Is it too early for coffee?"

"I would think so." You nodded, peeking at the clock again. "I just bought more tea though, there should be a brand new box on the counter." Immediately you heard him ripping open the box, no doubt destroying it in the process. Luckily you had a small wire basket filled with various teabags for that exact reason. If Jisung was the one to open the box, there would be no box left. With a final tear, he let out a stifled squeak as you heard the small paper envelopes flopping onto the floor. A small smile crept onto your face, knowing he had just thrown those teabags all over the kitchen and was now hastily trying to gather them all up before you noticed.

"Why do you always smile when I drop things?" His voice was so quiet, had he even meant to say that out loud? You looked up briefly to see him frozen in place, eyes wide as he stared at the floor. No, that was definitely meant to stay in his head. But 1am seemed to have the effect on everyone, hushed thoughts spilling out into quiet rooms. "Forget I said that, sorry." He ran his hand through his hair nervously, his messy locks standing on their own and bouncing with the movements of his fingers. You had to look away or you'd be slipping up in much the same way.

"Because I love-" You bit your tongue, hard. Hard enough to cause you a bit of pain. Quickly snapping your gaze back to the darkness in the room, you tried your best to talk your way back out of this but nothing seemed to come to mind. "You know what? Already forgotten." There was a hint of nervousness in your voice but in Jisung's tired state, he brushed it off without a second thought. He hadn't even processed what you began to say, his mind focused on putting the rest of the teabags safely in the basket and not causing another disaster.

With two mugs of warm tea in hand, he appeared by your side on the couch and nearly startled you. Normally you could hear him walking around but his steps were much lighter tonight than usual. You took one of the mugs from him, holding it in your hands to warm yourself up before taking a small sip. The hot liquid stung, but it helped you forget the cold for a moment and that was well worth the slight burn. You both sat your drinks on the coffee table at the same time, giving them a few minutes to cool down.

"I know you've been up every night for weeks. Fess up, what's bothering you?" He asked with a reassuring smile, snuggling under the blanket beside you. The added body heat was a welcomed gift as you suddenly began to feel warm enough to stretch your limbs before getting comfortable again. "I'll forget everything in the morning if you want me to, I promise. I just hate to see you like this all the time. It might help to get stuff off your chest." You raised an eyebrow, unsure of what you could confess that wouldn't totally give you away. But his groggy, tired voice was starting to break you down enough that you nodded, agreeing to play this little game in the hopes that it would tire you out enough to sleep.

"You start." You insisted, pulling your half of the blanket up to your neck to surround yourself in as much warmth as possible. This caused Jisung to inch a bit closer to keep you from pulling the blanket off of him, but that was fine with you. The closer he was, the warmer you felt. With a sleepy laugh, he threw his head back to rest against the back of the couch as he thought, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. He had to come up with some kind of nonsense, lest he lose this opportunity.

"Ah, okay, let's see..." He started, rubbing his eyes. "I used the last of your conditioner because I forgot to buy more of mine. I'm surprised I was able to convince you that you had used it all." He turned his head slightly to look at you, peeking one eye open only to be met with a playful glare. "Forget!" He followed up hastily, laughing as you tried to swat at him under the blanket. You continued to move closer until your hand finally made contact with his thigh, the sound of the slap muffled by the fabric of his pajama pants. He let out a playful whine, pretending the contact hurt when really, he barely felt it. But if he was dramatic enough, he'd get a laugh out of you and that was one of his favorite sounds in the world. Sure enough, you fell into a fit of giggles that brought a huge smile to his face.

"Okay, okay..." You took a couple deep breaths to stifle your giggling, your hand falling absentmindedly on his leg as you spoke. "I lied about your protein powder having bugs in it. I threw it away because I couldn't stand the way those shakes smelled." You barely noticed his leg shift under your fingers as you caught the stunned look on his face. "Forget, but I'll pay you back. I know that stuff isn't cheap."

"Not cheap, but also not good." He joked, hand falling atop yours briefly before he brought it to the edge of the blanket to pull the fabric closer. "Don't worry about it, because I ate the last piece of your favorite cheesecake so we're even."

"I was gonna eat that today, you jerk!" Sitting up a bit, you reached over to give him another playful slap, but he caught your wrist before you could.

"Forget! Ah, why are you so violent today?" Pulling your hand closer to him, he bit at the air beside it, pretending to bite at your fingers. As playful as he was being, you could still see the sleepiness in his eyes.

"Don't bite me!" You squealed, snatching your hand back only to have him gently latch onto your shoulder instead. With another fit of giggles, you pushed at his head until he sat back up, giving him a shove that barely moved him. Bouncing back towards you, your arms were squashed against each other as your legs began to tangle in the small space under the blanket. You were beginning to forget the heat was broken as you stole a quick sip of your tea before returning the mug to the table. "Sometimes I wish you'd wake up earlier so I'd have more time to spend with you before your classes." The confession seemed to just slip past your lips as you desperately tried to catch it, but you were too late. Cheeks burning as you looked to him, you were given only a smile and a satisfied hum in return.

"Forget or remember?" He asked, though it was a bit too dark to see his expression properly. You knew he was smiling, but you couldn't quite place the look in his eyes.

"Remember." His eyes lit up for a moment, but your cheeks were only growing more pink. Suddenly you were unable to stop yourself from digging further into your feelings, but something about the situation was so comforting that it didn't really matter anymore. What would be the harm if you could simply tell him to forget?

"I think that you look really attractive in my hoodie, and I wish you'd wear my clothes more often." You had almost forgotten you were wearing his hoodie, though his words had caused your heart to skip several beats. There was no way he felt the same way, right? He would've said something, he's always so forward with you. Carefully placing his hand under your thighs, he pulled you into his lap and adjusted the blanket accordingly. "Remember."

"I had a dream the other day that we fucked and... I didn't hate it." You bit the inside of your cheek, knowing the comment would test the waters. The rest of the conversation and your ability to sleep were hinged on his reaction and you immediately regretted the decision to say it. You felt his fingers play along the side of your leg, dancing and teasing their way up to the top of your hip bone where they finally rested.

"Didn't hate it but didn't like it?"

"No, that's not..." You started, pulling your hood over your face in an attempt to hide your embarrassment. "I enjoyed it, it's just..." As you began to get more flustered, you could hear his playful chuckle against your shoulder. You weren't sure when he placed his head on you, but you wanted so badly to kiss his adorably rounded cheeks because you were so sure it would fluster him back. "Remember." As you peeked out from the hood, you could see his face melt into you as he tried to cover up his expression. You could only assume it was a big, stupid grin with a pink hue playing across his cheeks. "It's your turn." You reminded him, curious as to what he would say.

"I wrote a song about you and I've been too scared to let you listen to it." His voice was muffled against the fabric of the hoodie but you could hear him clearly. A song about you? You would've felt honored, if you could feel anything but the butterflies in your chest right now. "Remember." The words had barely left his lips when you tucked your finger under his chin, forcing him to look up at you.

"I want to hear it. Please?" Giving a pout you knew he couldn't resist, excitement began to overshadow your nervousness as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of earbuds. Though he knew you preferred headphones when listening to his music, you were both too comfortable to make the trek to his bedroom. You'd have all the opportunities in the world the listen to it properly, but you needed to hear it right now. Placing the earbuds carefully into your ears, you nodded, a sign that you were ready to hear it. The uncertainty was very obvious in his expression as he watched you, the song causing a swirl of emotions that you were trying to keep stifled. You both had really been feeling this way the entire time, locked in a stalemate as you waited for the other to make the first move. The stress and insomnia on both sides was all for nothing, if someone had just spoken up.

"It's such a good song. You're so talented." You started, pulling the earbuds out after the song had ended. The relief on his face followed by a smile gave you the confidence needed to let your next words escape you, sure that they would be reciprocated. "I'm in love with you." You leaned your head down to capture his lips with yours, pulling away only for a moment to see the joy in his eyes. "Remember."

"I couldn't forget this moment if I tried, do you know how long I've wanted to hear that? I've been in love with you for years." With another kiss, you began to feel the weight of your insomnia collapsing in on you. You shifted your body to place your head on his chest as you felt yourself dozing off. It took all of his self control to not giggle with excitement as he realized what was happening. It didn't matter what kind of grade he got on the song... it had served its purpose. He was planning to wait until a special day to show it to you, but this seemed as special as ever. Finally you were his, because he had always been yours. You just didn't know it at the time.

Removing the blanket caused you to groan as the cold felt like it was stinging your skin. Jisung gave a low hum to reassure you as you gently lifted you into his arms, carrying you down the hallway and into his bedroom. Sure enough, his bed was a mess of blankets that all looked so warm and comfy right now. He laid you carefully between them, letting you arrange them to your liking as you settled in comfortably. He clicked on a small space heater on the other side of the room, setting a timer since he was certain he'd fall asleep as soon as he got his arms around you. And sure enough, the warmth of your body against his was enough to knock him out as soon as he wrapped you up in his arms. You quickly followed, though, more relaxed than you had been in weeks. You definitely weren't sleeping in your own bed until the heat got fixed, if you ever slept there again at all.

#ficscafe #han jisung fluff #han jisung x reader #stray kids fluff #stayhavennet #bystay #han jisung imagines #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #han jisung #stray kids #skz imagines #skz fluff #skz

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whetstonefires · 2 years

Note

i saw your reblog of lesbianincelsnape’s post, i really want to hear your thoughts on how dumbledore and snape are similar

Oh! Sure, why not. 😂 I'll do my best.

So the position I'm adopting here is basically that Dumbledore is secretly a lot like Snape.

Specifically, the person Snape was, at that crucial juncture in his life when Dumbledore stepped up as his patron, reminded Dumbledore so much of himself at the parallel point in his own life it was like getting punched in the stomach every time he looked at him.

(I've also said elsewhere I think he was probably jealous that Voldemort and Lily were separate people. Like!)

The extremely vital point in Albus Dumbledore's backstory that gets neglected an astonishing amount is: his father went to Azkaban for anti-muggle hate crimes, and never came out.

But it wasn't really a hate crime. It was an honor killing, or vigilante justice. It was revenge for an assault on his daughter that could not be prosecuted thanks to the Statute of Secrecy.

The Dumbledore family was destroyed by 1) muggles and 2) the government. And then their mom died.

And that's where Grindelwald found him. Recently out of school and recently orphaned, brilliant and isolated and embittered, all his lauded potential being squandered on having to stay home and care indefinitely for his disabled sister. And knowing exactly who to blame. This is an alienated youth.

Aberforth was 100% correct to come over all 'what the fuck Rousseau you're just going off with this asshole to chase your weird dreams and leaving us?' although dueling about it was obviously foolish, but it's not surprising Albus could be radicalized at that point, even without factoring in the crush.

It wouldn't be really surprising, just disappointing, if Grindelwald had led with much more blatantly evil rhetoric than 'we will tear down this broken system with all its hideous injustices and erect a new one where we will personally ensure justice and rule over the muggles for their own good' and still gotten him.

But regardless. First he was that brilliant, embittered, horribly lonely young englishman signing himself away on a charismatic figure's fascist agenda. And then he was the slightly older, broken young man whose selfish choices had killed a young woman he loved, but had failed to care for properly.

Dumbledore despised the first one but he respects the sentiment of remorse enough to be able to sympathize with the second. He's built his whole identity from that point in his own life.

Which gets him right in that weird mental spot he's clearly got, where he wants to believe in redemption more than anything but also believes people can never really change. And that he, for example, can't be trusted to attempt major reforms to society or government considering the circumstances of his original resolution to unfuck the system.

So although Snape doesn't know it they've got this super complicated relationship where Dumbedore identifies with him a lot, and alternately cuts him inappropriate amounts of slack and is Very Weird And Passive-Aggressive With Him because of it.

What's most interesting here is that while he did usher the guy into the life choice that had ultimately allowed him to feel like he was doing something meaningful without grasping too outrageously at power (without any apparent understanding of the differences of context and psychology that stopped teaching from being fulfilling for Snape in the same way, or of the ways this could be bad for students) Dumbledore did not seriously pressure Snape to adopt his specific coping mechanisms.

Is this because he understood that this would be inappropriate and unhelpful, or more broadly unethical, or because he lacked the introspective awareness to realize that he had e.g. spent the last 70 years in a weird internal war with his 20-year-old self? Who can say.

Interesting that the result was that Snape just stayed that exact person for the rest of his life though.

#ask #lyraevans #rowling's position on radical reform being that it's doomed #and her position on society being that it is fundamentally corrupt and unjust #is unfortunately almost certaintly a major part of how her worldbuilding felt so sincere and realistic to us as kids #but also led to her story having some kinda fucked up morals in the end #her inductive characterization process #where she'd make up a guy and then eventually put together why he was Like That #was for sure a top strength tho #and i love what a disaster dumbledore turned out to be #hoc est meum #harry potter #trauma-induced arrested development #probably-accidental hp moral is that self-hatred makes everything worse because it fucks with the exercise of compassion #doesn't necessarily prevent it but always makes it Weird

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gluion · 5 months

Text

persist and resist (but still, fail) ➵ lee juyeon

lee juyeon x reader

all it takes is one phone call for you to realize what you could’ve had with juyeon

genre/warnings ➵ angst, almost lovers, long-distance but not-in-a-relationship, unspoken words/hidden signals, a lot of wondering of what could’ve been

word count ➵ 730 words

inspired by ➵ “the 1” by taylor swift, that one skype call in “past lives”

a/n ➵ very reminiscent of my upcoming jichang fic entitled “finger trapped (ripped to its seams)” but its taking a bit to pump out (and i'm very much in my feelings as we speak...) so bear with me and enjoy this drabble for now :33 do reblog and leave feedback!!

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlist

it’s quiet uptown. as you smell the winter air, frozen kisses graze your cheeks. sounds of cars have been replaced with the buzzing of lamposts and flakes have taken raindrops’ role. on the snow-piled balcony, you hear the wood crackle behind you.

yet, warmth is stored in the voice on the other line.

“so, what’s it like there?” the rasp that accompanies juyeon’s words remind you of the time zone difference between you two. while it may be crack of dawn in korea, night has fallen at where you stand.

“you’ve asked that question how many times in this call.” a giggle leaves you. “you’re making me think that you never listen.”

a soft hum leaves him. “you know that’s not true.” your fingers grip on the blanket draped on your shoulders. “what are you up to?”

“damn, not even letting me answer the thousand questions you seem to have for me.”

“sorry,” he chuckles, “just never hear from you.”

for a moment, all you can do is sniffle.

“it’s quiet here. everyone’s off to see their families.” your hand reaches out to rail, writing the characters of his name on the snow, as you bask in the stillness of the town. “i like it like this.”

“like it like what?”

“when it’s not busy. it’s only during the winter time when you’ll barely hear a horn or chatter.” a smile makes its way to your lips. “kind of like when we’d sneak into school during the summer time.”

heat waves would do its best to tie you down then, draining you of any energy to enjoy the wonders of summer, but you and juyeon were drawn to adventures. while there would be trips to the mart to grab the familiar taste of chocolate popsicles or the playground you’ve bruised your knees at, the school seemed to call on your names. the empty hallways whispered the narratives of students who came before you two—you were certain that yours and juyeon’s story would be told, as well.

“god, i can’t believe we had so much time to waste then,” juyeon admits over the memory. only a hum leaves you. “i miss it.”

a beat passes.

“yeah, me too.” the whisper barely leaves you.

there’s a life in korea that you’ve lost—the quiet exchange of laughter during classes, the smell of fresh kkwabaegi fresh from the fryer, and the nights spent stargazing.

but in the life you have now—in the stillness of your room during midnights, the rush hours of your commute, the conservations you have with the locals—you can’t help but wonder, wonder, wonder.

would you be in a 9-to-5 job at a corporate workplace or performing at sold-out venues? would you wake up early in the morning to bake or would you sleep in the comfort of your own bed? or would you go back to school and dive into the niche topics you’ve always wanted to explore?

but would you live alone in a different part of korea or travel around the world with him? would you wake up to the smell of freshly-cooked pancakes or microwaved fried rice from the night before? or would he latch to your body that’s reached the highest degrees, or would you make him soup during flu season? (he’s always had a weak immune system. did that change?)

there’s a life in korea that you long for—and there’s a person that you’ve lost. if things were only different, maybe you’d have him for many orbits around the sun.

did he ever think of a life you two could’ve had?

“hey, i have to go,” you say.

“oh,” juyeon’s tone is laced with disappointment, “okay.”

for a moment, not a word is exchanged between you two.

“talk soon?” his question takes you by surprise.

you would’ve loved to agree—yes! i’ll make sure to come visit—but you only smile to yourself with held back tears.

“bye, juyeon.”

that was enough of an answer for him. “okay. bye.”

the call drops. the warmth that your phone held has disappeared. while it makes sense to retreat back into your flat, bask in the heat emitting from the fireplace and read the words of sylvia plath, you remain standing on the snow-piled balcony.

it didn’t matter what you two could’ve had. it didn’t matter if he wondered the same things.

but it could’ve been him—that’s all you know.

perma taglist ➵ @deoboyznet@kflixnet@blankjournal@winterchimez@miusgirl@jenoscafe@sweet-unicorn-world@vernyangel@mosviqu@stealanity@deobi0412@blue-rainydays@maessseongs

#works of moni #deoboyznet #kflixnet #bjnet #k-labels #the boyz #the boyz x reader #lee juyeon x reader #lee juyeon imagines #lee juyeon angst #the boyz angst #the boyz imagines

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lythea-creation · 7 months

Text

I'm Nothing Like You - Remus Lupin x daughter reader

summary: (f/n) is the exact opposite of her smart and outgoing twin sister Amy. Will Remus be able to show her that love isn't tied to grades?

warnings: breakdown

word count: 1.069

Requested? Yes

-----------------------

I had always lived in the shadow of my younger twin sister Amy. Growing up in an orphanage you quickly learn if you are sociable.

Amy never had any difficulties to make new friends. She was the center of attention. Beautiful, charismatic, smart, funny. She had it all.

Meanwhile I was rather a quiet and shy person, mostly overlooked.

The only thing I was good at was drawing. But nobody seemed to be interested in that.

They had no idea, did not even want to understand that it was hard for me to learn. Theory simply was not my strength. But instead of helping me they mocked me.

Amy had tried to support me, explain it to me. But she had given up after some time. I was a hopeless case.

But it turned out that I was a failure at either school.

I transformed only one half of an object, accidentally invented new potions, did not manage to fly higher than three feet above the ground.

What was I supposed to do?

Amy and Remus quickly came along. Amy's easy-going nature and her awesome grades were making it hard for people not to love her.

I, on the other hand, was having difficulties to bond with Remus. Ironic that I was even failing in that matter.

We just did not have anything in common.

I wondered if they also turned away from me if we were not blood-related.

“Now it's time to get your grades”, Professor McGonagall announced.

I was anxiously scribbling away at a piece of parchment. Remus had bought me a pencil set for my birthday.

“I'm so excited to visit dad again”, Amy rejoiced during the train ride.

We had just finished our fourth year at Hogwarts. So we only knew Remus for three years now. When had Amy started calling him dad?

I was torn between being happy for her and feeling even more like an outcast.

“There are my two favorite girls”, Remus greeted us as soon as we had left the train, opening his arms for us.

Amy did not hesitate to run into his embrace.

I simply waved at him, forcing me to send him a short smile.

Honestly I was not excited to see him at all after just getting my grades. I would only disappoint him and therefore ruin the mood.

Amy and Remus were talking the whole ride home about Amy's time and Hogwarts and what they wanted to do during the holidays.

“What about you, (f/n)?”, Remus wondered. “How was your year?”

“Okay, I guess”, I stated.

I did not notice the concerned glance Remus sent my way as I was watching the landscape pass by.

After unpacking everything at home, Remus had rented an apartment for the three of us, Amy showed Remus her grades. The pride was written over both their faces, making me want to vanish.

Now of course, Remus was asking to see my grades as well.

Reluctantly I handed the piece of parchment over, hugging myself to keep me from falling apart.

I did not dare to look at him while he was scanning the page. I could not take the disappointment I was about to see in his eyes.

“(f/n), why are you crying?”, Remus worried.

I could not help it. I was feeling like an utter failure, a disgrace to both him and my sister. How could twins be so inherently different?

“Hey, what is it?”, he asked me softly, placing his hand on my shoulder.

Now I was completely breaking down, sinking to my knees and sobbing my heart out. I could not take it anymore.

Remus knelt down in front of me and pulled me into his arms, while my sister placed her hand on my thigh.

After I had calmed down Remus asked me again what was up and I told him about everything weighing me down.

“(f/n), it doesn't matter to me how much we have in common. I love you no less than Amy and it hurts me to see you so torn. Considering how hard school is for you, I think you did great. You passed all subjects. You can be really proud of yourself. Your hard work paid off”, Remus proposed. “You just have different strengths and weaknesses which isn't bad at all. Your drawings are amazing, (f/n). Don't just focus on what's hard for you.”

“To be honest I always envied you”, Amy confessed.

“You envied me?”, I reassured, absolutely taken off guard.

“You're way more ambitious and hard-working than me. You're an awesome artist and don't let society put you down. You never seemed to care about fitting in. I always adapt to make sure other people like me. You're so much stronger than me”, she declared.

I was speechless at her words. Apparently I had perceived it all wrong.

“Now who wants to go and get ice cream?”, Remus suggested smiling.

------------------

Alternative Ending

#harry potter #remus lupin x reader #daughter reader #female reader #angst #drama #twins

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gale-gentlepenguin · 4 years

Text

ML Fic: Soulmate Survey Part 33

Sorry this got delayed for longer than expected. I had a lot of things hit me like a truck (and distractions). Hopefully you all enjoy this. Please comment your thoughts on the chapter. And if you really liked it, Reblog it. Thats the best way to get others to see it.

(Master Post)

_______________________________________________________________________

Nathalie cautiously walked into the school, careful to not stand out. She needed to be quick and quiet, she didn’t know how many akuma were lurking in the building. Hawkmoth has akumatized a good chunk of the student body at this school, so expecting at least a dozen within such a short time frame wouldn’t be out of the question. She was relieved that the akuma alert hasn't gone off, which means no one has caught on yet.

The assistant moved down the hall, stopping once she noticed two akuma heading down the hall. One she recognized as the akuma dark owl, and the other as Lady wifi. Both akuma wearing masks that covered their faces. It was clearly the handiwork of Masquerade. She quickly moved into the nearest room to hide.

“That was close.” Nathalie whispered.

“What was?” a voice from behind her called out. Causing the on edge assistant to jump.

She looked to see it was not an akuma, but an adult with a perplexed expression.

“Nothing, what room is this?”

“This is the nurse’s office, I’m Nurse Angela. How can I help you?”

Nathalie took a sigh of relief. Seems that the nurse hasn’t noticed the akumatized individuals in the hall. Which means that no one has figured out there are akuma active.

“I am fine, I simply stepped into the wrong room.” Nathalie eased herself. “Could you tell me which way Ms. Bustier’s classroom is?”

“Oh its down the hall, make a left and it’s the last classroom on the...”

“Nurse! My ice pack melted!”

The nurse took a calming sigh.

“One moment ma’am. I have a student in here.”

Angela quickly moved to fetch more ice for her patient to help her out.

“Chloé?” Nathalie spoke aloud, recognizing the voice.

Nathalie moved into the room and took notice of the mayor’s daughter watch the nurse impatiently as she waited for a fresh icepack.

“Wait, your Gabriel Agreste’s assistant. Natasha.”

“Nathalie.” The assistant corrected, clearly annoyed.

“Why are you here? Does Adrien have some photoshoot or something?”

“Or something. Now why are you in here?”

The question struck a nerve with the blonde, causing her annoyance to turn into anger.

“Better question, how could you allow Adrien to date that loser!?”

Nathalie blinked.

“Excuse me?”

“She is going to bring down the Gabriel brand. That nobody has no right to be dating Adrien. Does his father know about this?”

Nathalie felt a twinge of annoyance. But kept it in. She remembered the akuma that were out in the hallway. She would hate to have them run in here just from the commotion.

“I think you should keep it down. This is not an issue that concerns you.”

“Doesn’t concern me?! I am Adrien’s childhood friend. You bet your poor dye job it concerns me!”

“I must insist you be quiet.” Nathalie repeats. “This is not the time or the place for such meaningless complaints.”

“Like I am going to listen to Gabriel Agreste’s rebound chick.”

That caused Nathalie to snap.

“Listen here you spoiled brat! There are akuma running the halls and I am trying to find Adrien to get him out of here before things get worse. If you don’t shut your mouth in the next two seconds. I will throw you out there and let them tear you apart!”

Chloé felt her eyes go wide at the out of nowhere outburst. It took her a second to process what just happened. Did she really get told off by this nobody?

“You can’t just…”

Nathalie suddenly fell to the floor. She barely used her hands to catch herself.

“S***, not now.” She mumbled over gasping breathes. Her body was failing on her again. She did not need this of all times. She felt her consciousness fade.

The nurse turned around once she heard the sudden thud.

“Oh dear.”

She rushed to the collapsed woman’s side and helped her up.

“Chloé. Help me get her onto the bed.”

“You want me to…”

“This is not the time for questions! Help me get her on the bed now!” Angela commanded.

Chloé’s protests were snuffed out by the nurse and she moved to help get the woman on the bed.

The nurse quickly checked her for a pulse. Thankfully she had one.

“Okay, she has a pulse. She is breathing, but her body just collapsed. A fainting spell?”

Angela started checking the assistant to make sure there was nothing else wrong.

Chloé watched as the nurse examined Nathalie. Her previous anger fading as she sees the woman that just snapped at her just drop.

“Okay… seems that it is over exhaustion. It’s not uncommon in people who work long hours with demanding jobs. But I have never seen a case like this. I can’t put my finger on it, but there might be another medical issue involved in this. When she wakes up, she should get checked into a hospital for a deeper dive into whatever she has.” Angela explained.

“So… she will be alright?”

“Well she is exhausted. She will need to rest for a bit.”

“Well at least she didn’t die. I can still be mad at her for yelling at me because there is an akuma and junk here.”

“Well you shouldn’t hold a… did you just say there is an akuma?”

“That’s what she was yelling at me about before. Weren’t you listening?”

Angela felt herself go pale.

“Oh that is not good at all. We need to alert the authorities.”

Chloé picked up her phone and started texting.

“Don’t you think you should use that to call the cops.”

“Im texting my dad. He will have the cops here faster.”

Angela remembered that the annoying spoiled blonde in front of her was the mayor’s daughter and for the first time, was happy that the girl was here.

_______________________________________________________________________

For what is a teen, but a pile of hormones and insecurities.

Masquerade delighted as she watched her classmates stare at her. They all were trying so hard to be strong, but she could feel their emotions, they were afraid. She knew that taking the most emotionally secure one in the group would rattle them..

She noticed the teens rushing to their pockets to get their phones.

Masquerade touched the cellphone charm on her bracelet and all of the phones started showing they had no signal.

“Nice try, but no calling for help.” Masquerade commented.

Even the chill Nino couldn’t maintain a steady calm in front of her with that little display. She now removed any chance of calling for help or setting off that akuma alert system. Did she have access to other powers? What kind of monster did Hawkmoth turn her into?

“I’ll save you for last Nino. I want you to watch closely.” She flipped her hair, taunting the cap wearing teen.

The masked theme akuma smiled as she moved her hand, as if deciding on who would turn next.

“Now we know who will be last, but who will be next?” Masquerade asked, watching as her bracelet was glowing. The class was a gold mine of akumas. It was not a matter of how, it was a matter of which one.

“You don’t have to do this Lila.” A soft higher pitched voice pleaded.

The class turned their attention the short haired blond with a fondness for pink.

“Rose…” Juleka spoke up in worry.

Masquerade focused her attention on Rose.

“Oh? And why is that?”

“We know you are hurting. We know that you lied to us and did some nasty things… but that doesn’t have to define you!”

Masquerade found herself a bit surprised at the statement.

“If you are willing to stop all of this, we can help you. We can work through all of the things you’ve done. If we can throw a party for Chloé, we can certainly give you another chance.”

Rose stuck out her hand, a soft smile on her face.

Masquerade took a moment to process before speaking.

“Wow… I had no idea you felt this way.”

Rose walked forward.

“See Lila, we can all get along if…”

“You’re so incredibly depressing.”

Rose stopped.

Masquerade’s mouth contorted to a twisted glee. Her charm bracelet glowing brightly as she held her hand up to Rose.

“You always force a smile even when things are downright miserable. You’re terrified of being sad, so you paint this image of a fantasy land filled with stuffed animals and storybook characters. You realize all of the awful things around you yet you simply push it back, push it away as if it can’t harm you if you don’t acknowledge it. You can’t even acknowledge the emotional problems and insecurities of the people you care about because you know you can’t help them even if you did address them, so you give them some encouraging saccharine speech about pushing through, because that’s all you can really do. I have never seen anyone so deep in denial. One day you will wake up and realize that all of that delusional thinking will have pushed everyone away from you as you sit in plushy made prison of your own design.”

Rose felt her lip quiver.

“N-No. That isn’t true. I can …” Rose stumbled over her words.

But before she could say anymore, a mask flung onto her face and Rose shifted into Princess Fragrance, the green skinned perfume super villainess.

“Rose! No!” Juleka cried out.

Masquerade grinned as a perfume bottle charm now adorned her bracelet.

Juleka tried to get the mask off of Rose, but the newly made akuma pushed her aside and jumped to her master’s side.

“Oh, poor Juleka. Don’t worry. I’ll have you join her.”

Masquerade pointed her hand at Juleka.

“Oh wow, social anxiety and a fear of being forgotten. How original. Is that why you dye your hair purple and wear those gaudy clothes? You want to stand out so that you don’t get dismissed like the wallflower you are? Your bad luck with photos really puts a damper on your dreams of modeling. But that’s probably for the best, considering you are constantly overwhelmed. You don’t have the guts to do anything you want, so you just do your best to keep quiet and pray people will still notice and care about you.”

Juleka felt her anger shift to sorrow as she tried to speak up, but sure enough. Masquerade sends another mask out and it makes contact with Juleka.

The purple haired teen shifts into the image replicating akuma, Reflekta. Who after changing moved next to Princess Fragrance. A compact mirror charm appears on Masquerade’s bracelet.

The class couldn’t help but feel the despair in the room. The large drummer tried to keep his small girlfriend behind him as a means to protect her, but unfortunately, Masquerade noticed.

“Oh Ivan, sweet misunderstood Ivan.” Masquerade taunted. “You really think I don’t see what you are trying to do.”

Ivan kept his eyes focused.

“You aren’t turning me into one of your monsters. You already turned my bandmates into them, you aren’t turning me!”

The akuma laughed.

“Monster? I don’t need to turn you into an akuma to do that. The rest of the world already sees you as one.”

Ivan felt a pang in his heart.

“No… no they don’t.”

“Even your own girlfriend is scared of you. You’re a big brute that is loud and bumbling. Ever since your growth spurt, you could see everyone look at you differently, like you were some kind of large freak. But what’s worse is that you’re afraid that everyone else is right. That you a large rage filled monster, undeserving of love.”

“Don’t listen to her. She is lying to you.” Myléne pleaded as she tried to pull her boyfriend out of the quicksand trap of emotion that the akuma was setting up.

“I am not a monster.” Ivan spoke, more to himself than to masquerade.

The akuma capitalized on that moment of weakness and a mask made its way to Ivan, transforming him into his stone giant akuma form, Stoneheart.

Myléne looked in horror of her akumatized boyfriend and took a few steps back. Her fear of remembering this form taking hold.

“Oh, that works too.”

Masquerade flings a mask at Myléne, transforming her into her more monstrous akuma form, Horrificator.

“I was planning on playing on her fears about how she is afraid to face the real world and her insecurities about losing Ivan, but that worked better.”

The two new akuma mindlessly made their way to Masquerade’s side. A piece of paper and a button charm appeared on Masquerade’s bracelet.

The joy the akuma attained from watching her classmates squirm was unnerving. And it was only going to continue.

_______________________________________________________________________

“So, you are certain you left it there Kagami?” a woman with a cane asked sternly.

“Yes mother, I remember I left my text book in the locker room during fencing practice. I was studying between breaks.” Kagami answered. She felt a bit ashamed she had misplaced her book. But was relieved her mother was fine with giving her a ride there to get it. Even if it meant she was late to her lessons.

“This is not an excuse to see anyone, is it?” Her mother questioned.

“No mother, I will be in and out quickly.”

“Very well. I need to make a quick stop at the bank. So be sure to be outside waiting when I come back.”

“Yes mother.”

Kagami got out of the car and the car drove off.

“Well, I could stop by to say hello to my friends if I am quick with getting my book.” Kagami smiled a bit as she was about to make her way into Collège Françoise Dupont.

But before she did, she heard the sound of a bike approaching, she turned to see the cyclist stop short of her.

“Made it.” He said with relief as he took off his helmet to reveal familiar blue dyed hair.

“Luka?”

The cyclist looked and noticed his new fencer friend.

“Kagami? What brings you here? I thought you didn’t go to this school.”

“I don’t, I come here for fencing practice, I left a textbook here and was planning on retrieving it. You don’t go to this school either. So what brings you here?”

“My little sis grabbed the wrong lunch bag, then texted something about an akuma being in the school. I wasn't able to reach her after that. I plan on getting her out and letting the heroes handle the akuma.”

Kagami blinked.

“There is an akuma?”

“Apparently.”

The fencer smiled.

“Alright, let’s get in and try to evacuate everyone. Then I can grab my book.”

Luka looked at the determined girl and smiled. He didn’t even say he would help her. But he knew he would.

“So, what’s the plan?”

_________________________________________________________________________________________

Adrien stared down the Volpina duplicate. He was not going to let it pass him and get to Marinette. He realizes that if he had been the one to run off, he would have been able to transform quick. If this didn’t work out, Ladybug might have to take on Lila solo, and that was something he was worried about. If Ladybug is on her own and she gets overwhelmed, who would be able to protect Paris? He needed to figure a way to give this Faux Fox the slip and fast.

“It would have been better if I snagged both of you, but master will be more than happy with your capture.” The sentimonster smiled as it moved to grab him.

The blond jumped back, but the difference in speed was far too great for him to overcome. And he was quickly pinned against a wall. The sentimonster shifted forms, looking similar to the owl akuma that Adrien was familiar with.

“What the…”

“I am not bound to one form. I can shift my form and access to any akuma’s power set that my master has under her control.”

Adrien realized he was far outmatched. If it came to it, he would need to transform. He wished there was some way out of this mess.

But as if the heavens above heard him, a yo-yo wrapped around the waist of the buff owl.

“What the ...”

The sudden pull from the yo-yo made the sentimonster lose it’s grip on Adrien and get flung to the other wall, dazing it.

“Looks like I made it just in time.” A spotted heroine stated with confidence.

“Ladybug!” Adrien called out in relief.

Ladybug rushed to his side.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m a lot better now.”

Ladybug helped the teen up from the ground.

“Lets’ get you somewhere safe first, handsome boy.”

The blond felt his cheeks turn red at the comment.

The sentimonster managed to get back up, it shifted forms, to a smaller form. One that made ladybug experience a chill go down her spine as she saw the roller blades and familiar helmet.

“Timebreaker… We need to hurry!”

Ladybug started rushing with the teen. With the speed of the akuma, she knew Adrien wouldn’t be fast enough to avoid it on his own. So, she quickly picked him up in her arms as they fled.

“Timebreaker? But isn’t that what Alix turned into when she was akumatized.” Adrien inquired as Ladybug ran down the hallway.

“It means that things are getting a lot more dangerous.” Ladybug answered. She knew that timebreaker appearing could only mean that Lila has made her way to the classroom, and this was going to be one of the toughest akuma battles yet. She needed to get Adrien to safety and then make her way to the classroom, hopefully save her classmates before they were all turned into her masked servants.

She made a quick movement into the bathroom. Standing at the door, prepared to fight the akuma if it noticed their quick duck into the washroom.

Ladybug listened closely as she heard the sound of skates roll up to the door. Her eyes went wide as she realized the it figured it out.

“You really think you can hide from me!”

The Timebreaker imposter kicked in the door ready to attack, only to see no one was in the room.

“Like I said….”

“You!” Kicked the first stall door open.

“CANT!” The second stall was kicked open.

“HIDE!” The last one was open, and all of them were empty.

The sentimonster growled in frustration.

“Seems I was mistaken.” The sentimonster grumbles, skating off to find the two.

As the door closes, Ladybug and Adrien sigh in relief. They had taken to hiding over the small statured sentimonster’s line of sight. Ladybug;s yo-yo making for a secure web to hold them up.

Ladybug undid the secure snare and lowered them both to the floor.

“Thanks for the save Ladybug.” The blond smiled. His face a bit red being so close to Ladybug.

‘Easy there Adrien! Remember who you are dating now!’ He mentally told himself.

“N-no problem.” Ladybug smiled sweetly. “Now, you stay hidden and I will take care of this crazy shapeshifter.

“Wait Ladybug!”

Ladybug paused.

“Yes? Is there something…”

“My girlfriend is out there. Well I mean… dating since we didn’t officially say girlfriend and… Look She is out there and that akuma thing is also after her.”

Ladybug’s eyes went wide at that statement.

He called me his girlfriend! Inner marinette screamed. Inside her head, but Ladybug kept her face from showing it. Though a small smile was growing despite herself.

“So the akuma is targeting someone else? Why wasn’t she with you?”

“She went to get help, I was trying to hold off the akuma so she could escape. The akuma was more focused on me thankfully, and you showed up just in time.”

“Oh? And who is the Lucky girl?” Ladybug questioned, a bit bubbly but doing her best to hide it.

“Her name is Marinette, she is around your height and she has these cute …”

“No need for more description, I know her. Well, she is a cute one. Aren’t you lucky?” Ladybug teased a bit.

“I really am.” He smiled sweetly. He remembers that Ladybug did pick Marinette to be a temporary hero, so she should know who she is. Though he isn’t supposed to know that.

Ladybug put a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure your ‘girlfriend’ is safe. I’ll also be sure to tell her you were worried as well. She will be happy to hear that.”

Adrien felt himself in a bit of a bizarre situation, was ladybug helping him by being a wingwoman for him? He couldn’t help but find it a mix of ironic and funny.

Ladybug rushed out of the bathroom, realizing that chat noir was rubbing off on her a bit, teasing Adrien like that.

“He called me his girlfriend.” She smiled as she thought this to herself. Though she knew the task at hand was important and would dwell on this happiness much later.

Adrien watched as she ran off, feeling a bit flustered.

“Really needed to let her know you were off the market now.” A voice from his pocket teased.

“I panicked.” Adrien felt his face flush.

“Seemed Ladybug was happy for you. That’s good.” The cat kwami popped out of his pocket. Hiding the fact, he knew a lot more than he let on.

“We do have more important things to worry about. We have an akuma and sentimonster to stop. “

Adrien punched his fist out.

“Plagg. Claws out!”

_____________________________________________________________________________

Masquerade laughed, loving how she was turning everything back on her classmates.

When something smacked into her head.

“Ugh!” She grunted as she grabbed the metal object that flung into her.

“What the hell?!” Masquerade’s eyes focused to see it was Max’s ai companion, Markov that head-butted her.

“Your actions have far exceeded what is acceptable.” The robot responded.

“Markov get away from her. She will akumatize you!” Max called out in worry.

“Akumatize the toaster? How could I akumatize…” Masquerade muttered until she noticed her bracelet glowing.

“Oh, you have got to be f***ing kidding me. You akumatized a sentient rice cooker but not Marinette?! The f*** hawkmoth!?”

“I will have you know that I am an advanced artificial intelligence.”

“And you despise that.” Masquerade points out.

“Quite the contrary, I find my intellect exhilarating.”

“But you already calculated it, the two logical conclusions. That you will either become obsolete and be tossed out for a newer model, or you will advance and grow until you outlive Max.”

Markov paused. He could not come up with a response. The robot felt stumped byt the statement.

“Too easy.”

“Markov!’ Max cried out as a mask landed over his visual face plate. Shifting him into his angry red coated akuma form, Robostus.

Max moved to get to his robot. But Kim held him back.

“It’s too late man.”

Max growled at the akuma.

“Damn it Lila, why are you doing this? You must know that Ladybug and Chat noir will arrive ready to stop you. The chances of you beating them are 0%.”

Masquerade lifted her hand as her bracelet began glowing again.

“Oh. smarty pants Max, the one with all the formulas and the data. You have to be the smartest one in the room or else you have nothing.”

“I know what you are trying to do. It won’t work.”

“Out of everyone here, you have the biggest inferiority complex. Your need to be the best at what your ‘good’ at. Robotics, video games, data analysis, and of course, calculations. You need to show to everyone how smart and skilled you are, because the moment you don’t, they realize there is no personality underneath.”

Max tried to focus on not letting the words get to him, but Masquerade knew exactly what to say to cut him down.

“Go on Max, tell them how to ‘Beat’ my power. Or do you not know?”

Max felt his lip quiver, he couldn’t stay strong. He didn’t know how to beat it. He could feel the horror of not knowing slip into his mind. She had nailed his insecurities like an expert marksman.

“I thought so.”

A mask flew and smacked onto Max’s face. He dropped to the floor only to get up in a black and green spandex suit, His akumatized form, The Gamer.

A game controller charm appeared on her bracelet.

A sudden squeak caught her attention.

Masquerade turned her head to see an orange haired girl trying to sneak away.

“Sabrina, I had forgotten you were here. Just like everyone else usually does.”

Masquerade was about to really lay into her, but a book out of nowhere smacked her in the face.

It was the athletic dare maker himself, Kim.

“I am done sitting around and letting you turn everyone into masked zombies.” Kim exclaimed.

Nino felt himself zone back in as Kim called it out. Now was not the time to lose his head. He needed to focus. Masquerade didn’t mention Adrien, so maybe his best bro was still out there. Maybe they can get to the heroes and have them fix this. But first, he needed to escape.

“Kim’s right. We won’t let you turn anyone else anymore. Sabrina get help!” Nino exclaimed.

“Like she is going to… HEY!”

A waste basket covered the villainess as she stumbled back, with the basket stuck to her head. While she had been too busy gloating, she had failed to notice the tomato haired artist sneak behind her and the mindless akuma line up. He had slammed it on as hard as he could to ensure it was difficult to remove.

“Let’s Go!” Nino announced as the rest of the class rushed to the door. Time breaker being the only one actively ordered prepared to stop them.

“Don’t let her touch you.” Sabrina spoke as they tried to figure.

Kim grabbed a chair and used it like a make shift battering ram in order to keep Timebreaker at a distance, but the akuma reacted quickly by pulling the chair away and kicking the teen in the gut with her roller blade. Sending him flying back into the other teens.

“Ugh! That really was gross!” Masquerade retched as she pulled the waste bucket off her head.

“Well, I hope you enjoyed your little escape attempt. Because you won’t get another chance.”

Masquerade pointed at Kim.

“Since you started this little thing. I will change you next.”

Kim looked at the Akuma with a smile.

“Good luck with that. You don’t have anything that could make me feel gloomy.”

Masquerade’s bracelet started glowing again. She was clearly ready to speak, but stopped herself.

“… Wait.. THAT’s your biggest insecurity?”

“I don’t have an insecurity.”

“You are afraid everyone will realize you’re not smart.”

“What? No, I am not. I am plenty smart. I watch the Alternate Truth all the time.”

“Everyone already knows you’re an idiot.”

Kim looked at the akuma with shock.

“That’s not true! People do think I’m smart. Chloé has called me ‘Genius’ multiple times.”

Masquerade didn’t know how to respond to this.

“I… do you not know what sarcasm is?”

“Of course, I do.” Kim lied.

“Just … just wear the mask you moron.”

Masquerade sends a mask to attach to Kim.

The swimmer did his best to resist but felt himself succumb to the mask and become the dark winged akuma, Dark Cupid. He joined the rest of the akuma in the lineup, and a bow and arrow charm appeared on Masquerade’s charm bracelet.

“I actually feel dumber because of those last few minutes. Okay next one.”

Masquerade points at the Artist.

“Let’s bring the mood back with you Nathaniel, what is your biggest insecurity?”

“Listen Lila, there is still a chance to stop what you’re doing.”

“You’re afraid of opening yourself up to others. That’s the reason you didn’t want to join Soulmate searcher despite Marc’s insistence. You were afraid of putting out all that information on yourself and seeing that you and Marc aren’t meant for each other. You can only express yourself with art. And you know that it’s only a matter of time before he realizes your issues and leaves.”

Nathaniel wanted to dispute the statement, but felt his words die in his mouth.

“Such a pity Nathaniel, I’ll make sure to go after him once we are done here.”

“No! Don’t you…”

Nathaniel tried to say more, but a mask latching onto his face interrupted him.

The artist transformed into his heroic yet villainess akuma form, Evillustrator. Just like the others, the recent akuma joined the line.

A tablet pen charm appeared on Masquerade’s bracelet.

“And next up is Sabrina. I was interrupted earlier. But don’t worry. I have everything I need to get you.”

Sabrina tried to put on a brave face and covering her ears.

“Oh, you think It won’t work if you cant hear me.”

Masquerade’s bracelet glows.

“You don’t get it Sabrina, I am not just saying mean words, I am reading your greatest insecurities. And I am projecting them out.”

Sabrina could hear Masquerade’s words, as if they were in her mind. She couldn’t escape them. Her hands dropped.

“Very good. You learned how futile it is. It’s rare that you have someone’s attention like this. You always never stood out much, but you never minded that, your biggest insecurity is that no one will want to spend time with you. That’s why even with Chloé being mean and nasty, you like the fact that someone is willing to talk to you. You would accept humiliation and embarrassment over being alone. It’s truly pathetic.”

Sabrina felt tear stream down her face.

“Sabrina don’t let her get to you…”

“Im sorry. I don’t want to be alone.”

The mask flew onto Sabrina’s face. But something happened. She wasn’t changing right away.

“What’s this?” Masquerade commented.

“It seems you have more than one akumatizable form? Alya had something similar, but I was ‘missing something’ to access the other one so I didn’t bother with that. But this is different.”

Masquerade felt a malicious glee take hold.

“Why not give you both.”

Nino watched as the masked Sabrina shifted into a costume that looked familiar to him. The power stealing Miracular.

But suddenly, she vanished from his sight. Only to then appear with the other akuma.

“Invisibility and power stealing. Sabrina you maybe my favorite servant yet.” Masquerade exclaimed. Two charms appeared on Masquerade’s bracelet, vanishing cream and a tonfa.

Nino took a look at the line up of akuma.

“Dude… this is so not cool.”

Masquerade started to walk towards the DJ with a confident stride, stopping short, looking down at him. An aura of malice emanating from her presence.

“Don’t worry Nino. You’ll be joining them.”

_______________________________________________________________________

(End of Chapter)

So all the pieces are coming together. Will Nathalie be okay in a school filled with akuma? Will Ladybug and Chat noir be able to fight the army of akumatized classmates that Masquerade has been building? Will Kagami be able to get her text book. Will Kim learn that everyone loves him because he is a himbo? Find out by staying tuned.

Thanks for reading and be sure to comment if you want to see the next part. I am an author and live off validation.

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glassheartjukebox · 4 years

Text

coffee shop chaos

soulmate au! feat. sugawara

a/n: this is part of the 300 follower event, reblogs are always appreciated!

anyone that would create a soulmate system so asinine is one of two things: cruel or incompetent. if there is a god, and if that god designed the soulmate system, your first mission in the afterlife is to fight him. to grab him by his big ass neck and throttle him. after all, it is his fault the phrase, “i want her titties in my face” was tattooed on your arm.

your soulmates first thought when they see you is tattooed on your arm for eternity. what a joke. perhaps god had a sense of humor. not only did this system produce less than savory results like your own, it also was ineffective. unless you see your thought tattooed on another individual’s arm, you might not realize you’ve even met your soulmate. hell, maybe you’d already met the bastard that gifted you with this mark.

the tattoo had quickly become a problem when it appeared on your fifteenth birthday. at that time in your life, you were one of the youngest in your friend group. you watched as your friend’s marks were etched into their skin. some of their tattoos, like kaori’s “i think that’s the love of my life,” and akaashi’s “i could stare into those eyes for an eternity,” were wonderfully romantic. others were underwhelming, like bokuto’s “that must be the finest man alive”. but none had been as vulgar as yours. whenever the topic of soulmate marks arose, you were subject to teasing and pity. this naturally didn’t stop when you left high school.

the short sleeved shirts at the coffee shop you worked at had become the bane of your existence. passing customers their drinks across the counter left your tattoo in full view. looks varying from amusement (not so funny when it’s tattooed on your body), to pity (wow thanks! very helpful), to disgust (once again, very helpful! definitely chose to have this mark!) were often cast your way.

your friends tried to reason with you, tell you that if you met your soulmate at work he’d know it was you because he’d see your arm. at this point, meeting your soulmate might turn into a wwe match because of the tattoo they so graciously left on you.

even though it made you feel like an immature 15 year old again, you couldn’t help but envy some of your friends and coworkers tattoos. yachi, one year your junior, with the words “her smile is the cutest thing i’ve ever seen” tattooed in a dainty cursive font. kiyoko, one year your senior, with a simple “goddamn.” tattooed in bold. both of them blanched when they saw your tattoo before assuring you they’d seen tattoos just as bad (if not worse) on the boys from the volleyball club they managed in high school.

but it’s whatever. that’s life. day in and day out, you ignore the soulmate system and pay your bills while pushing through your senior year in college.

today is a rare day that the two baristas opening with you are kiyoko and yachi. previously, your interest in meeting your soulmate had been relatively dormant. after becoming closer with the two girls, you yearned for the companionship they spoke of. kiyoko had tanaka, her soulmate she’d met while managing the volleyball team at her school. he was the antithesis of her; loud, kind of a mess, and disheveled. but he was kindhearted and he never failed to make her smile. he knew just how to get her talking and how to fluster her. he loves her unconditionally. yachi only recently met her soulmate. she ran into kanoka, a division one female volleyball player, on the train one day. though their relationship was new, you’d met her numerous times when she’d pick up or drop off yachi at the coffee shop. their newly minted love was adorable. kanoka looked at yachi like she held the world in her hands.

you couldn’t picture yourself in a relationship like theirs. the image of your soulmate that your mind conjured up was some greasy old pervert. or maybe some 20 something frat boy with no respect for women. you could probably fry bacon with the amount of grease in his hair. maybe you could suffocate yourself with the copious amount of axe he owned to save yourself the misery of being with him.

it’s 6:45, and fast approaching the busiest time of the morning when you see a flash of gray hair in your peripheral vision. you barely register it, until you hear yachi and kiyoko happily greeting the man and doting on him. you slide the caramel macchiato you’d been preparing to the customer (she eyes your arm with a look of confusion. thanks lady) and turn to see the most beautiful man you’ve ever laid eyes on. goddamn, for him? you’d do the cooking, the cleaning, and the dick sucking. anything for that gorgeous man.

the man in front of you was all kind smiles, he held a satchel with a laptop and children’s drawings peeking out of the top. damnit, probably married with kids. doesn’t mean you can’t admire the view though. kiyoko begins to prepare his drink and yachi calls you over.

“y/n! come over here, i want you to meet a friend of ours,” she squeals. hesitantly, you approach the registers. “sugawara, this is my friend y/n. y/n, this is sugawara, he’s an elementary school teacher,” good, so possibly not married with children? yachi continued, “he’s also one of the guys from our high school volleyball club! his soulmate mark is the reason i didn’t find yours too shocking!” sugawara let out a chuckle while smiling at you, eyes full of mirth.

“it’s nice to meet you y/n,” god the way your name rolled off his tongue was heavenly, “wanna compare marks? i’ve never met someone with one nearly as explicit as mine.”

you smirked in response, “i’d like to see you beat me. mine is pretty bad.” leaning forwards you both displayed your arms simultaneously. you froze. all the blood drained from your face and your fingertips as you read “god i would do the cooking, cleaning, and dick sucking for that man” tattooed in a dreamy cursive font on his arm.

you looked up at sugawara’s face and he didn’t seem to be fairing much better. he looked like he’d seen a ghost rather than the tattoo on your arm.

“are you two okay?” yachi asked from behind you, more than a little worried.

paying her no mind sugawara finally made eye contact with you.

“oh my god i’m so sorry” sugawara's apology was garbled with your own declaration of, “please don’t hate me.” you stated at each other for a moment, akin to deer caught in the headlights before you laughed. what began as giggles turned into stomach clutching violent laughter.

“well, it seems that we’re equally dirty minded y/n” sugawara looked up at you, struggling to contain his glee.

you looked back at him, “i have a few minutes before it gets too busy, would you like to sit down? coffee’s on me,” you smiled.

maybe this whole soulmate thing isn’t too bad.

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