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#they dealed with so many things on their own
kittyfrisk9 · 2 days
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IdeaDpxDc: A nice moment with a sleep demon.
Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.
Dead On Main.
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Danny accidentally absorbed some of Nocturn's powers (like in the Vortex episode), and now, with these new temporary abilities, why not take advantage of them? Like a kid with a new toy, Danny (or should I say Phantom: with a new design) has fun every night going from dream to dream.
The dream world is so strange! Without the constant threat of a dream entity trying to take over the world and all that. Now he has fun exploring the most unusual parts of his classmates' subconscious, or anyone's in general.
Even though he knows he shouldn't be doing this (after all, he's a responsible adult now), spying on other people's dreams isn't exactly something a mature person would do.
On the other hand, Danny is the responsible adult; Phantom is the one who uses his new powers recklessly. Plus, no one in Gotham knows who Phantom is, and at the end of the day, he's not hurting anyone. Point in his favor!
It was all fun and games… until he felt it: the unpleasant taste of a nightmare, distressing and desperate. Phantom knows he has to intervene, because, unlike Nocturn, he does not delight in the suffering of others.
So he goes. And what he sees shocks him.
Resonant laughter of a psychopath, the constant pain of flesh being beaten, and the devastating reminder that no one came to help. Phantom doesn't just see it, he feels it. Gross. What is this? Why would anyone be hurting a child? Then he understands: this is not just a nightmare, it's a memory, and someone is suffering from reliving it.
He absolutely will not allow this nightmare to continue.
...
Jason hasn't been having good days lately, mostly because instead of going to therapy, he's chosen to sweep his trauma under the rug and aggressively throw himself into crime-fighting. He's not good at dealing with his emotions, especially when he's been tormented by the same damn nightmare over and over again.
He knows the script by heart, he knows how it will end, but he still feels the same fear as the first time.
His head hurts.
"No, not again," he thinks in terror. Once again, he's tied up, unable to move or call for help. It's colder than he remembers. The walls have a grotesque tint, with laughter written in every corner. But the worst thing is the silence… until the sound of clashing metal begins to resonate.
Everything is a thousand times worse. He's sure the original scenario wasn't like this, but his terrified mind refuses to accept it.
The metallic sound resonates louder, each crash rumbling in Jason's chest. His breathing quickens, and then he hears it: that laugh.
A deep, distorted echo of laughter that seems to come from every direction. The laughter snakes around the grotesque walls, filled with the same letters that repeat his agony. “Ha… ha… ha…” fills the air, louder with each invisible step that approaches.
Then, he appears.
It’s not the Joker he remembers from that fateful night. This one is worse. Bigger, more deformed, with a smile that seems to tear at his own face. The colors of his suit are darker, more twisted. It’s as if his mind has amplified him, made him more monstrous.
“My, my, how little Robin has grown? But… something remains the same, doesn’t it? No matter how many times you live it, it always ends the same way. And to think that you were my greatest work of art!”
His voice is mocking, but behind the mockery is pure cruelty, a wicked amusement that lights up in those crazy eyes.
The Joker leans towards Jason, his face invading the small distance between them. The sound of metal continues to echo, and Jason knows what's coming next.
"Oh, I almost forgot…" he says, pulling out of nowhere an iron crowbar that gleams in the dim light of the nightmare. "It wouldn't be a good memory without this, would it?"
That's when the pain begins. Jason doesn't want to scream, and he won't. Even though that abominable creature is just a representation of his killer, he won't give him the luxury of listening to him suffer. The blows continue, and Jason bites his tongue. It's just a nightmare, it's not real… it's not real.
It's not real.
It's not real.
It's not-
"Hey… Are you okay?" he hears him ask. His shocked gaze turns to where the clown should be and discovers that he's gone. In his place, there's a handsome young man: short, slightly messy black hair, expressive purple eyes, and a body almost completely shrouded in dark shadows.
The mysterious man had a cosmic air about him, surrounded by a mix of special effects of stars and galaxies. Something magical.
And new.
Jason honestly doesn't know what he's seeing, or why he's seeing it. "What?" he says, unable to find another word to describe his situation.
The entity laughs at his stunned state, a reassuring echo very different from the joker's laughter. Then he snaps his fingers, and suddenly he's no longer in that ugly room. He's now in a field of flowers, beautiful and vibrant, looking out at a starry sky.
Okay, this is the part where he asks his brain how he went from being in a nightmare to being with a handsome guy under the stars, hands free and untethered.
"Relax, you're not crazy," the being says as he lies back in the grass. “You were in pain, and I didn’t like it, so I got you out of there. Don’t worry, that abomination won’t bother you again.”
Jason blinks twice, bewildered, not understanding anything. “You… saved me?”
“You could say yes.”
“Why?” He shakes his head. “No, wait, that’s not the question. Who…?” Looking back at the being, he decides to change his question: “What are you?”
He seems to have taken the being by surprise.
It clasps its hands together as it looks up at the sky, trying to act normal. Jason narrows his eyes. “You can call me Void.”
“Did you just make up that name?”
The being looks away, seemingly embarrassed at being found out. “Yeah…” And suddenly exclaims, “Ah, ancients! I'm not supposed to be doing this, much less with one of the bats."
That last sentence had given away more than it should have.
"Hey, how about we admire the night view and then pretend this never happened?" Void suggested with a hopeful smile, turning to Jason.
Maybe it was the soft scent of the flowers, the calm atmosphere, or just the tiredness after so many nights of endless nightmares, but Jason, without thinking too much about it, walked over, lay down next to Void on the grass, and said, "No."
He needed a break.
...
And that's how Jason befriended a dream demon. And how Danny pretended to be a dream demon until Nocturn's powers wore off. He couldn't let the bats find out his identity.
After that, they spent more time together, fell in love, there was drama and there was closure. In the middle of all that, Danny started having tea with Alfred in the dream world, and at other times, he had fun bothering the other bats in their dreams.
But that's another story.
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Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.
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cupidlovesastro · 3 days
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 #𝟏𝟕(𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬)⋆˚✿˖°
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disclaimer: please don’t take this personally, this is just my opinion of placements i find hard to deal with not only astrology wise, but also based on real life observations and experiences i’ve had or witnessed
🍨other post you may enjoy🥠
astrology observations #16 (child of the sun)
astrology observations #15 (hippie edition)
astrology observations #14 (real life experiences)
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7h chiron- they seem to that the worse and most toxic relationship i’ve ever seen. and honestly from what i’ve seen, they are usually the victim of the relationship. they do grow a lot as a person from this but the damage is a lot
gemini placements paired with pisces placements- this mainly applies to sun, moon, and mercury, but they can be incredibly manipulative, to the point they believe their own lies. they also have a tendency to lie for no particular reason
1h/7h/5h pluto- they end up attracting people who are insanely obsessive or crazy over them. like to the point it’s unhealthy. people are also oddly possessive of them too, and they can easily be objectified by others
mars opposite or square venus- there’s an imbalance of feminine and masculine energy. although with square there can be a compromising or “agree to disagree energy”, with opposite, this is constant push and pull between the energies which can cause inner turmoil
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moon opposite venus- in men this makes someone who’s misogynistic. there’s a lack of understanding for feminine energy and a lot of, blaming women for things. also a lot of toxic masculinity, and not wanting to be vulnerable. in women this can show being uncomfortable with your femininity and not being able to express it
any planet being aspected 5 or more times- this is especially important for moon, mars, and sun in my opinion. this can cause so many different conflicting energies for that planet or planets. there can be a lack of understanding for that planet as well and having a hard time relating to that planet since it’s aspected so much
taurus moon- i actually enjoy taurus energy, but taurus moon can definitely be difficult. they tend to dwell in their emotions for long periods of time and have a hard time getting over things. they can also tend to isolate their self
10h/4h uranus- inconsistent parental figures. possibly ones that came in and out your life without any warning or particular reason. they were unpredictable and you could never tell what their next move was. although they may have been very smart and taught you a lot, they weren’t very physically present, and if they were, they weren’t emotionally present
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harmonysanreads · 2 days
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Sooo about the yan! alhaitham having a librarian girlfriend..... I wanna hear your thoughts....
Of The Silence Betwixt Words
ᯓᡣ𐭩 Yandere!Alhaitham x Reader
Cw(s) : Yandere Themes, Intrusive Thoughts, Alhaitham being Alhaitham
「 Words : 1.4k 」 「 Inspired By This Post 」
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The relationship between a librarian and a reader is simple, silent and sufficiently detached ; as such, it does not require an extensive amount of cognition to treat it as anything but that.
At least, that's how it is in the beginning — it always is like this in the beginning. The burgeon of something from seemingly nothing, catapulted to such a monumental deal that one is left questioning : when did it begin? What or who sneaked in the seed and how did it nurture itself to bloom into such an unsightly, fascinating thing?
At one stage, fixation tricks the mind into stuffing that void of inquiries with what it parades as the truth — it has always been there, you simply did not notice.
It is natural for Alhaitham to respect the place that houses such a valuable item, he extends it to the person behind the desk as well. Communication is always easy with them, restricted to a few phrases and maintained due-dates to return borrowed tomes. His own house has an impressive collection as well, but the ambiance of a library is just too intricate to replicate within the four walls of his abode.
In Sumeru, physical books are unfairly ignored, one of the many ironies connoted to its claim to ‘wisdom’. The Scribe has never understood nor agreed to the other scholars' faster and apparently more efficient means of requesting the Akasha to answer their dilemmas.
The Akasha is a useful tool in many instances, that, he won't deny. But there is nothing in that machine that begets more machines that can equate to the intellectual stimulation a physical book, the extra minutes consumed by the search of that book and the librarian that never seems to let him win can provide.
The expanse of the House of Daena directly connects to the load of responsibilities its assigned keeper has to shoulder. Making sure students return the books on time, keeping an eye out for anyone who may want to get silly while annotating the tomes and the periodical shushing of rowdy study groups.
There's the occasional scholar too airy with pride to bend that seeks to challenge your knowledge as well. Unfortunately for them and fortunately for the House of Daena's reputation, you're just the correct person to put them in their places.
It's difficult to decide which one the Scribe wants to commend first : your seemingly monstrous memory or the way you can cite it all without stuttering. Alhaitham was pleased with the fact that most people thought twice before interacting with him, but the way you challenged him and emerged victorious revealed to be quite a hassle on his mind.
“Incorrect. Truly ancient petrified trees usually grow to around one or two miles in height. Check page 19, paragraph 3 of the ninth edition of ‘A Comprehensive Guide to Dragonspine Ruins’ (Kreideprinz et al., XXXX)”
That is not an interaction one can just forget. Intrigued and encouraged with a competitiveness that does not usually make itself apparent, Alhaitham decides to test the extent of your... ‘talent’. The Scribe prefers being frank — he was impressed. So much so, that it overpowered whatever bruise was inflicted on his ego.
More and more of these debates ensued, much to his bewilderment. The man who would never stay for an extra minute in his office after work hours, willingly spends time debating with the librarian of the House of Daena. Most of the time you end up winning in them. The Scribe doesn't even process the reason that he has let you win deliberately a few times was because he found the smile that followed it... pleasant.
Then, bringing a rude end to his little guilty pleasure, the news of your expertise spreads. Scholars from all Darshans come to you to check the accuracy of the rumors during the precious free-time he's been the sole occupant of until that moment. Because of your exposure to many new personalities, it appears as though his had dulled in your eyes.
He gets it, one would naturally be more drawn towards a splatter of color than the monochrome wall it decorates. The same wall also has to make sure the bricks don't fall off from their places. So, he decides to leave you to your devices.
...Except, that plan screeches to a halt when he sits down to sift through applications, his treacherous mind conjures phantoms of your smile directed to people not him, which grips onto his heart and squeezes.
Rejected, rejected, rejected — he tosses every file and application to the trash without blinking once that day. Only when he's done that, does the haze recede and he's staring at the floors in profound confusion. The abruptness of that reaction stuns him so much that he rushes to the Bimarstan for a thorough check-up, the doctor's repeated reassurance that he's fine and healthy does nothing to quell the waves of thoughts spiraling in his head.
Thanks to that, he knows now there is nothing wrong with him physically, but something has definitely happened to his mental wiring and the impact of that change leaves the wellbeing of his physical state to question as well.
Break down, look for the cause, reorganize and form a branch of conclusions — that is the pattern Alhaitham has always followed when presented with a problem. A tiny part of him entices him to jump to more reckless means ; no need to think, just drag them away from the commotion and grovel at their feet so that they'll spare attention to your pathetic existence ! But the greater part of his conscious mind, fueled by rationale, is, understandably appalled by these thoughts. In the end, he circles back to his traditional methods.
Alhaitham has always been cautious, so he quickly crosses out the prospect of confiding with someone else about these urges he's been having. He'd usually consult a book for help, but Sumeru housed no records even alluding to his condition. It's only during a stroll through the Grand Bazaar, a passing glance to the act played upon the center stage, does he finally gain a clue.
“Scrambled thoughts, erratic heartbeats and restless state of being? These could be the prelude to a greater illness! Or, a far, far gigantic sickness may have grasped your soul — love.”
Those were the words that managed to sneak in through the confines of his earpieces, rooting him to his place in the midst of the crowd. At that point, he had been exasperated. Of all things, that is what describes his predicament best? A lead is still a lead though, so he conducts further research on the matter and to no one's surprise, the more he digs, the more it makes sense.
The Sages always advise against vain pursuits involving emotions, it's clear more than ever to Alhaitham exactly why. He doesn't outright reject the notion though, research on this field is scarce in the Nation of Scholars. The available ones only scratch the surface ; there is an ocean beneath the thin ice and the itch of unraveling those depths appears to be too insistent to ignore.
But the centerpiece of his experiment was still missing, prancing around carelessly. If only he could somehow, in some way, at an auspicious moment manage to steal you away from the barrier of that desk — he halts his thoughts with a deep inhale. Surely there are more efficient approaches, he only needs to think.
He's heard that gifts and flowers can soften hearts, perhaps that should be his next course of action. His paycheck is more than enough to cover the expenses for a few continuous months and while he's at it, why not buy that incense capable of dulling people's senses which just so happens to work best with flowers? When you're off-guard he could easily — no, no, no, this isn't working.
In fact, regardless of how many other ways he comes up with, it always circles back to his initial thought. It would be so easy for him as well, certainly less time-consuming than whatever gift-giving and compliment showering the Inazuman light novels are preaching. He's stealthy enough to evade the Matra and his status could tie lose ends. Yes, the advantages of this route outweigh the set-backs in comparison to everything else.
So he refreshes his mind, there is a connection between everything ; it's common knowledge that the librarian of House of Daena will personally rescue overdue books. That record hasn't yet been broken, regardless of whether they had to traverse to the deepest part of the rainforest or some abstruse corner of the desert — the weakest link identified.
He will run countless simulations in his mind, calculating the time and possible day you'll come knocking at his door ; by then, the causal factors will be dealt with.
And everything else will resolve itself.
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luveline · 24 hours
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this may sound crazy, but i have really bad OCD in terms of cleanliness. for example, always need clean clothes (has to be exactly “correct” level of clean), hand wash always over and over, i also don’t like anyone sitting or laying in my bed uncleaned or in outside clothes.
eddie is, well eddie. how do you think he would react to a gf or potential gf that has this same issue?
You can’t wear the same sweatshirt twice, you can’t not wash your hands three times before dinner. He doesn’t think much of it, to be totally honest. Eddie’s been called weird his whole life, and he knows that behaviour like yours is out of the ordinary, so he refuses to make you feel bad about it. 
“Sorry.” 
“No, it’s okay,” he says, putting his backpack on the floor. You’re wringing your hands nervously in front of the bed, having just told him Please don’t sit on my bed. I can’t– It’s the contamination, it’s not you.
He unzips his backpack to unveil the extra clothes he brought with him. “I got these fresh out of the washer, but if it’s still not alright, I can just sit on the floor.” 
“Eddie, I’m not gonna make you sit on the floor.” Something in your expression softens. “You promise they’re clean?” 
“They still smell like detergent, but it doesn’t bother me. I can sit on the floor. Or at your desk?” 
“You can’t sit on the floor, Eddie. If they’re really clean, you can come and sit with me.” You smile weakly. “I want you to sit with me. I can’t deal with the idea of, like, your outside clothes on my bed, that’s all.” 
“That’s fine.” He makes sure not to put the clean clothes against his chest. “I get it, babe, the van is gross, pollution is disgusting, I’m gonna save the world for you to make it less icky. Can I get changed?” 
Your smile strengthens. “Yeah, course you can. I won’t look, much.” 
“Much!” Eddie’s joy at your teasing is palpable. 
He changes. You don’t watch, but you don’t avert your eyes either, which Eddie thinks is a good sign. It’s a little nerve wracking to be standing there in his boxers and socks while you’re fully clothed, until you smile at him with your face in your hand and he remembers how sweet you are.
“How many tattoos do you have?” 
“You don’t know?” he asks. 
“I’ve seen them all. Just never counted.” 
Eddie puts his worn clothes in his backpack and sits on your rug to change his socks. “I have sixteen.” 
“What?” you ask incredulously.
“I’m counting the bats separately.”
“Of course you are.” 
He springs up, squeezing the hand sanitiser on your desk into his two palms, and cleaning down to the middle of his forearms. Then, when they’re cold from the air in your room but mostly dry, he meanders his way to your side, giving you a long and loving stare. “You look really pretty when you do that.” 
“Do what?” 
“When you hold your face. Can I…” 
You lean back. He replaces your hand with his own, rubbing a soft path into your cheek. “I can’t believe you sanitised for me,” you say with a smile that’s half embarrassed and half pleased. “Thank you.” 
“Thanks for what?” He strokes your cheek back. The soft skin there pulls. “I should be saying thanks, do you know how big of a deal it is, to get to touch you? I’m on cloud nine. I feel like such a fucking winner.” 
Your nose crinkles as you laugh. “Very passionate.” 
“I’m saying goodbye to grunge. No more unwashed jackets or crust pants, I swear. I even cleaned behind my ears.” 
“You weren’t cleaning behind your ears?” 
He leans down to touch your nose tip with his. His eyes close, but not before he sees your nice smile. Getting to be here joking with you in your bedroom is worth sanitising his hands, are you kidding? He’d do a full body bleach bath three times a day if it meant he got to breathe the same air as you. 
“Tell me if I do something gross, okay? I know you think about things a lot, I just need you to tell me.” 
“I don't want you to get caught up in my stupid rules.” 
“They’re not stupid.” He noses at your cheek, his lips touching skin as he speaks, “Don’t worry about it. Tonight’s about you and me and the Amityville Horror.” 
“Okay, I won’t. I won’t worry.” Your breath warms his lips.
He kisses your cheek gently, a quiet thank you. It’s nice to be trusted with something as important and intrinsic to you as this, nicer to be touching you. He can’t believe he’s allowed. 
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court-jobi · 3 days
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Reheat
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((banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's work OR the mindblowing art of @gsony24))
Pairing: Midoriya x reader (support-hero!reader x teacher Izuku)
Words: 2.5k
Rating: G~
Warnings: comfort fic, tooth-rotting fluff here y'all, established relationship, work stress (livin' vicariously), talks of the future, a few fem pronouns used, but generally gender-neutral
Summary:
Izuku letting himself into your home after a long day has become comfortable background noise, and one you love to hear while you're bogged down. Work has been following you home all week. He's proud of you, without a doubt... But equally concerned when he sees your dinner half-eaten, your mind scatterbrained and racing faster than he can anchor you, and your angel eyes in desperate need of some TLC. He's cemented his place in your heart- and sees no reason he can't make himself at home here already.
A/N: do I have bigger fics in mind? Yes. Did I write this instead of sleeping bc I love soft, encouraging Deku? Also yes. Izuku Midoriya is a motivational speaker.
For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!
Read on AO3
“Hey honey! I’m here!”
Over the tinny, background chatter of a podcast streaming from your phone, you call back to Izuku letting himself in.
“Hey you~” You throw interest into your voice, but still stayed tuned into your work.
“Ooo what’s this… What did you make here on the stove?”
“Risotto– it’s Italian~ has lots of veggies and good stuff in it,” you didn’t stop your typing pace, engrossed too heavily in getting an email out before you forget about it and Gmail has to ‘nudge’ you, again, “-gave it a Japanese spin with what I had in the house.”
“Oh wow– oh my gosh, honey– this is so good!”
You look up since your darling man has just appeared in your doorway, sparkly eyed to see you, but equally sated by what’s just graced his mouth. It was a meal you could babysit between taking a quick shower, getting ready for work, letting its flavors marry in the fridge throughout the day, and popping back on the stove that night.
“I’m glad, happy you like it~”
“D’you eat?” Izuku asks, midbite.
“Mhm. Little bit ago,” You motion to your bowl- but when he comes alongside you, he tuts over noting it's only half empty.
“You didn't finish- you feelin’ ok?”
Having circled back onto your screen, you double take again, this time caught by his perception check over you and feeling guilty. 
“Oh. Guess I didn't. I’ll nuke it up here in a bit.”
Izuku, setting down his bowl and starting the -normally alluring- task of rolling up his shirt sleeves to his forearms, comes to your side. However since you’re paying little mind to your peripherals, you missed the show the was making of it. A simple ask of ‘what’re you working on’ came from him, sounding no different than if he wasn't trying to make eyes at you; fact was, you just weren't paying attention.
“Just some stuff for the interns,” the sight of how many tabs are open on your split screen -and in your mind- make you sigh, “With this new role, I kinda feel like you some days. Lesson plans, processing their paperwork; it’s all the stuff you had to turn in as an intern– only now I'm the one dealing with it on the backend.”
Izuku sifted around though your training materials and your propped tablet making itself useful as a second screen. At your handwritten to-do list that’s one of the only things non-digitized nowadays, he makes an offhand comment that your handwriting is nice. It's the kind of cute, ‘blink-and-you’d-miss-it’ things he says that you just hum to, whether you were really listening or not.  
When you glance up to him again, you see he’s watching you with a caring gaze and feel caught.
 “What’re you looking at?” you tease, typing again to break the silence.
“A pretty girl…” Izuku teased lightly, “who doesn’t know when to take a break.”
You type away at his call out– the need for a night off at Izuku’s side is exactly why you've been working so hard at this. You figured you'd get some of this extra prep work under control now, so by the time he rolls around on Wednesday for your standing date n–
You freeze. 
Realizing what day it is in your planner.  It's Wednesday. For dinner.
“Oh my God- -you’re here.”
“Mhmmm~” Izuku really doesn't want to laugh, but his sucking in of a lip isn't hiding it well. 
“ohmygod imtheworst!!” you refresh your face in both hands, talking through the gaps.
“You are not!” Izuku chuckled, setting your notes down. “You just got busy with all the new tasks, because you’re just that good.” 
A faithful, scarred hand comes over to smooth over your back, pulling you over into a little half hug. You sink against him, relishing in his little forehead kiss. He can try all he likes to cure your embarrassment, but you look to him apologetically.
“I’ve never forgotten our dinner dates, ‘Zuku…”
Your darling shrugged unbothered, “Had to happen sometime. It’s no big deal.”
“Is to me,” you pressed- very much bothered.
“Honey,” Izuku chips your chin up, “You’re too hard on yourself. It’s ok, these things happen! I mean, you still made a delicious dinner; even if it was a bit of an oversight I would -in fact- be eating it.”
The pang of guilt hits you at forgetting. This was just a symptomatic sign that the brilliance of your taking on the additional role of Education Coordinator at the agency was perhaps an over-zealous one. Not only to be on-call for your base job as a linguistics quirk specialist, but to balance another full time role on the office hours end? Why did you convince Fatgum this was a good idea? It sounded like a stellar idea back at the beginning of the summer…
Now you’re forgetting not just who you’re supposed to be eating with- but also eating in general.
“I’m glad you did,” you boost Izuku’s elephant-like memory, “It feels so normal to have you here, it's not like I completely forgot I’d see you today. I just– maybe I… thought I was gonna take some to you, since I wouldn't see you till later in the week? I dunno.”
“C’mere- never got a real hug.” 
You rise at his hand’s insistence, and stretch up into his full, healing embrace. 
“Hi baby,” you cooed pitifully.
“Hi, my angel. Missed you today.”
You hummed at the affection, sinking into his neck more out of your residual misery.
Izuku simply took advantage of you being close to sway you in his wide stance- a dance, sans music.
“I appreciate you cooking so much for us,” he spoke gently from his perch over your shoulder, “I was looking forward to it all day, y’know? You’re always so thoughtful with everything you make.”
He’s pressing into you with compliments- against your hard wiring to accept…
“‘Zuku.”
“It’s true~ you’re generous! You remember what my favorites are, and leave out the stuff I don’t like; you even send me leftovers. And you make snacks and treats for when the midnight munchies strike– what can’t you do?”
“Zuku…”
“And you–” he runs a hand through your hair as he sways your shy self back and forth, “-- make for the most funny, beautiful, fascinating, most inspiring company I could ever hope to share a meal with.”
Head thunking onto his shoulder, you playfully land a closed fist on his chest with a muffled, whiny plea for him to stop.
He sighs, all in good humor.
“This streak of yours... I really have my work cut out for me, don’t I? Still can’t imagine how bad it must be in that brilliant mind that my incredible girlfriend has such a hard time accepting the tiniest compliment. Maybe it’s all that late night American comedy you watch...”
You exhale then fix him with your coolest look of sarcasm, anything to show that you have a modicum of having your shit together. So you cope with humor- who doesn't?
–shame that it looks too much like a pout and makes you decidedly not threatening at all, because Izuku just beams brightly at you in response.
“Oh! Now there’s my melty princess- I was wondering where she went.”
And at that, the aloofness was gone, and you snort into a laugh and hug him tighter around the neck. He even scoops you up and gives you one little twirl for good measure. 
When he set you down, Izuku cups your face in his hands and gifts you a few more forehead kisses before demanding your sights. 
“Now. We need to get you to finish eating first. Then, what can I do to help you tonight, hm? How can I make things easier for you?”
With a softer eye to your desk’s work, you sat back down staying connected to your ever doting Izuku by way of your hand in his. You tried again to focus back. You're newly refreshed by his affections and attempt for a more positive outlook, 
“Well, my goal of doing this tonight was so that I didn’t have to go in early tomorrow. Course, if I do run myself ragged tonight, I won't be any good to anyone there– or for you, here. But I think if I pare it down to just getting these e-sigs ready and getting their time-in checklists set up for their work study onboarding, that would give me a good enough start, and I can fill in the rest of their packets tomorrow. But that means I’d need -ugh- maybe… another hour of work tonight?” you looked to him for his approval, “I have a template, so it shouldn’t take me forever.”
“Alright! You’re the boss,” Izuku supported your plan with a smile, “How about I take care of the kitchen for you while you finish up?”
“You do not have to clean my kitchen!” you spouted back, offended– causing a laugh to burst from him, “It’s not funny! I didn’t ask you to come over after a day of work yourself to just slave away at my mess.”
Izuku fixed you a look, as if you knew better. 
“I think I can tidy up a kitchen, no matter how busy of a day I’ve had. Yours isn't even over yet- so when precisely were you going to have the energy to hammer at it? You’ll enjoy not having that mountain waiting for you.”
You huffed, but smiled gratefully all the same. 
“Besides, it’s just me- doing something nice for the woman I love; and I happen to like doing nice things for you. You deserve a clean space, hun.” 
He cleared off your previous bowl to reheat along with your empty water cup. Shaking the hollow straw inside to where it clinks, he knows exactly what you need and tells you so.
“You are getting a screenless break first, though. Something tells me you didn’t the first time around~”
Settled with a fist propping up your face, you swooned over this darling man. 
Trusting Autosave to have done its job, you shut the laptop down blindly, “Sure didn’t~” 
Izuku just rolled his eyes and stepped out of the study. 
You neaten up the collated stack of applications laid out by you and stepped over to the couch, taking a kneeling perch on the end while you sought out a new record for the player on the side table. Setting one on, it was able to fire up and fill some new life into the room with a movie score you haven’t listened to in a while. Everything just sounds better on vinyl.
When Izuku came back in the room, he’d found his houseshoes and returned with renewed interest to your music choice- and with a pleased expression seeing you actually lounging and taking things easier than how he found you. He traded your reheated meal in exchange for your blue-light glasses, which he’d then clean with a pocket square and set back on your desk once they were smudgeless.
“Now, that’s a better sight~ here you go, all set for later.”
You enjoyed Izuku’s company while finishing dinner, listening to him outline his workday while he cradled your legs in his lap. He'd had a pleasantly eventful one, with plenty to say about it. You’d play ‘two truths and a lie’ sometimes when he didn’t want to bore you with a particularly mind-numbing schedule, which pleased you just as well. You excelled at it, while he gave away his fictions every time- a terrible liar for the game, but great for a faithful partner, you reasoned.  You truly loved hearing him talk and talk, your love only growing at the domesticity of this feeling and never wanting that to change. 
Once you were done, you were honestly content to hear him continue his tangent, but it seems his inner discipline was stronger than yours. 
“Alright, now to attack that sink~”
You bemoaned again for his sake. But since you made such a small, affected noise, Izuku paused mid-rise, and sat back down a bit closer to you. He stretched an arm over the back of the couch, encouraging you to come closer and met you for a sweet kiss in the middle.
His mere presence reverted you to a younger self sometimes– one desperate for his attention, good or bad. It wasn't the loveliest impulse, but he clearly thinks it's all part of your charm seeing as he gives in every time, anyway.
“Thing is,” Izuku spoke softly while adoring the hand now placed in his, “If things keep going the way I think they’re going -the way I hope they’re going- it’s.. not hard to imagine that there’s gonna be both our dishes to clean up all the time. In our kitchen, in our home someday. So this is just practice, right? Seems perfectly normal to me. How it should be.”
That idea bloomed in your chest, the thought of sharing a home with him- where this exchange of chores and time together could be your new normal. Only it would be a future where he didn’t have to leave at the end of the night and go back to a bed with compact, collegiate-designed storage at the campus accommodations he stays in on the instructor's wing. He’s got enough to get him by, but he noticeably prefers your home here closer to downtown.
“And what happens when we both wanna ditch the dishes?” you countered sweetly.
Izuku smirked, “That’s what a dishwasher is for. Another thing we’d own together…”
“Forward thinking, there.” You relished that idea. 
Izuku nuzzled your forehead thoughtfully. 
“You’ve been doing things on your own for a long time– and it shows, sweetheart.”
His words came carefully, from a tender place spoken in confidence between you, referring to when you’ve spent other late nights like this one fueled with hot tea and a desire to keep ignoring the clock.
“And I know you’ve been used to that since you’ve been traveling so much, not even having roommates to help keep you company or lighten the load. I keep wishing I could have known you sooner, had more time with you before you had to learn some of those things the hard way… but I’m happy I get the chance to, now. I’m here now, and you’re not alone, so I hope you’ll let me take care of you when I can.”
With another happy sigh forcing your eyes shut, the mental will it took to not let the tears of a perpetual eldest daughter leave you was intense.
Izuku Midoriya never failed to hit the nail on the head when it came to pep talks; he does the same with his students. But why his ones aimed at you had to have a Full Cowling dash of heartfelt anecdotes in it, you don't know. But you're grateful. You're so grateful for him. 
“If you don’t quit talkin’ like that, Izuku, I will never let you leave this condo.”
He chuckled again, lifting your cheek for another kiss, “Twist my arm, love.”
Ultimately, he rose to quit distracting you, but not without you watching him leave with a hunger you’d never felt for another soul before. 
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tangerinelovez · 2 days
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How do you think OT7 Dream would comfort you after a bad day?
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Mark: When Mark comes home from a day of work and sees you on the couch sad and quiet, not at all like your normal self, his face quirks up in shock. Your eyes are on him as he awkwardly looks around the room, rubbing his arm, looking as if he’s unsure what to do. After a few beats of silence, he meets your eyes and sits down next to you.
“How was your day?” He asks, looking at you with soft brown eyes. He listens intently and offers emotional support for a few minutes before diving into some solutions and advice. You notice his sentences are a little disjointed or rambling, but he definitely got some good points across and brought up new perspectives you hadn't considered.
"No, yeah, like, she was totally... uh... over the line for asking you to stay late to finish that report... like, she totally put you in a weird spot, y'know, given the fact she asked if you'd do it in front of so many people, you know? you don't... you can't deal with that kinda thing." You nod, feeling your frustrations dissipate as he continues to be the picture perfect supportive boyfriend… albeit a bit rambly. His talents definitely lie in making sure you feel heard, and like all of your concerns are so valid. He's an amazing listener who reassuringly holds your hand and gently strokes your thumb with his own as you talk and he offers his best reassuring words. Even if he somehow loses his train of thought along the way, he always brings it back home. He's the sweetest boyfriend you could ever ask for and you love the way he takes your mind off things... when he offers to get you your favorite takeout, you squeak out a "No, it's ok, I'm fine. We have leftovers."
He calls you from the restaurant to ask what exactly it is you like from their menu because he just wants to be 100% sure he gets your order right (and that they don't forget your sauces...) Would totally be the type to bring home way too much food, sheepishly saying, "Hey, you deserve it.... it's been a long day for you... not that you have to have a bad day to like, get good food, but i'm seizing this opportunity to make my girlfriend smile."
Yes, he did scrunch up his free hand that isn't holding copious bags of take-out while saying that sentence... and yes, you do laugh. When he sits back down on the couch next to you, you can't help but smile over how he instantly puts on some cheesy show for you both to watch while you eat your giant meals. "Mark... we're going to be eating these leftovers for days..." You say, but even as you say it, you're a bit shocked to realize nearly all the fries are gone.
Your eyes meet in shock, and you double over in laughter over the fact you both have been so absorbed in the stupid happenings of the reality TV show... you just kept eating.
With full bellies, you'd lay down on the couch and cuddle... laughing over the fact at least your problems aren't as bad as the poor girls on the crappy reality TV show... and you're lucky enough to have an amazing boyfriend who'd do anything to make you feel loved <3
Haechan: When you'd text him to let him know your day isn't going that well, Haechan would be the type to immediately get mad on your behalf as if someone had insulted his honor to the highest degree. Like... if you're having a bad day because of something somebody said to you or did to you, best believe you'd have to pull him back from confronting that person. His chaotic and over-the-top insistence on getting as involved as possible makes you feel really loved... Although he is a bit dramatic, you have to admit it's a nice change from the previous nonchalant busters you had dated who had no real interest in protecting your wellbeing. This man would spam your phone with stupid Instagram reels and bad puns in hopes your mood would improve slightly.
When he's finally with you in person, it would take a natural disaster to get him off of you. He would douse you in kisses and nearly crush your ribcage with a tight hug. He'd totally be the type to dramatically look out the window and declare you're letting those bitches win if you don't make the best of the rest of the day. he'd walk you around the neighborhood for a bit, an arm slung over your shoulder, and would just take in the scenery with you, feeling that your quietness was more out of contentedness than anything else.
Although he can sometimes be a lot, he has a huge heart and will always do his best to read the room and figure out what you need... while still encouraging you to sometimes do things that make you a bit uncomfortable... Hey, he was right about how good a walk outside can be for mental health and gaining perspective! you should trust him.
he'd claim he had no real route in mind for your neighborhood walk, and yet, you'd somehow conveniently end up at your favorite mom-and-pop restaurant. he'd feign shock, looking between you and the restaurant a few times before saying, "Destiny led us here... come on, the universe is saying your boyfriend needs to buy you a couple pan-fried dumplings. Who are we to say no?"
Once you're sitting down at the restaurant, you'd finally begin spilling more details about what was bothering you, and to his credit, he would listen quite well, only interrupting a few times to express his annoyance with your classmates over not carrying their weight on the project. With a belly of pan-fried dumplings and noodles, you walk back to your apartment with Haechan, grateful to have a boyfriend who lets you vent at your own pace, and doesn't force you to share ... even if it sometimes kills him to wait to hear who is at faultRenjun: Renjun is the type to immediately discern when something is wrong with you, even if you try your very best to hide it. As soon as he'd come home and lay eyes on you, staring straight ahead on the couch in the living room, his gaze would soften and he'd say, "hey sweetheart... you okay?" to which you'd nod before tears would suddenly well up, causing him to drop everything in his hands and rush over to you.
He'd sit next to you on the couch and pull you close to his side, wrapping both arms around you and rocking you gently as you cry. He'd sit there with you quietly for as long as it would take for you to calm down, quietly humming as the two of you sway slightly, his hand softly combing through your hair. Eventually, you'd shakily exhale and lift your head from his shoulder, maneuvering yourself on the couch to face him. He'd shift slightly, as well, ensuring that you could see his full attention is on you. He'd listen intently as the words suddenly come spilling forth. After telling him all about your bad day and what has been bothering you, you can count on Renjun to get right down to solutions. Though he's a super caring boyfriend, the man would believe that the way to truly help you feel better would be to attack the issues head-on rather than just offering you emotional support. However, he always speaks to you very calmly and sweetly, never talking over you. After discussing possible solutions for a while, I think he'd be the type to say, "Well, there's not much else we can do right now, so maybe let's just take your mind off of all that for tonight? And tomorrow, you can talk to your friend about some of your concerns." You love the way he makes big, all-consuming feelings and events feel smaller by breaking it down piece-by-piece and ensuring you never feel like these issues are yours to bear alone.
He'd totally be the type to say something cheesy like "the first duty of love is to listen" He'd be so honored that you shared your troubles with him and trust his advice so much, would instantly shush you if you tried to apologize for crying and ruining your night together.
"Your worries are my worries... I swear sometimes you worry me with how low your bar is for treatment from others... but hopefully it's raising everyday we're together." After all that talking... and crying... and laughing, he'd make some popcorn, crack open your favorite soda, and put on the one movie you've watched every time you've been sad. And he wouldn't even make fun of you when you'd recite all the lines along with the characters dutifully. Jeno:When you come back from school, overwhelmed by the workload of your graduate-level courses, Jeno would listen intently to all your issues, nodding and sighing at the appropriate times, making you start to find amusement in his display of active listening. This man would definitely take all his cues from you and adapt appropriately. If you're angry... then he is boiling mad, too. Madder than you are, actually. If you just don't want to talk about it any more, he would definitely respect that, and start cycling through your favorite topics to try and boost your mood.
No matter what, he would insist on being by your side and doing whatever it is that you want to do, repetitively asking if there's anything else he can do for you. He'd shyly pepper your hairline and temple with kisses, smiling against your head softly when he'd feel you laugh. He'd definitely be all over you, cuddling you on the bed to the best of his ability as he throws out different activities you could do to feel better. "Do you want to paint something?" A slight head shake from you tells him you're not really in the mood for anything crafty... but maybe you could be convinced. "Hmm... would you wanna go out for dinner, baby?" It's silent for a few seconds before you say, "Hmm... maybe...."
The arm he has around your neck is comforting, but as he moves it to scratch his chest absentmindedly, you feel like the comforting embrace is slightly choking.
Thankfully, he stops his scratching and sighs, staring at the ceiling before he tosses out his next suggestion. "Okay... how about... we go to that one grocery store you really love, get all the ingredients for homemade pizza... AND any other snacks you want? and your loyal samoyed will happily buy them all for you?"
suddenly feeling a burst of energy over the prospect of wandering the aisles of your favorite fancy grocery store and being silly and creative in the kitchen with Jeno, before relaxing on the couch together to laugh over some stupid movie, you curl into his side excitedly.
"Yeah, that sounds amazing..." Now you're the one peppering him with kisses, from the mole below his eye to the tip of his nose, feeling so happy that you have such a patient and sweet man who shows you how he cares through actions. "You can just wear my sweatshirt, too. No need to change." Is it possible to be any more in love? I guess you'll find out when the night's over.
Jaemin: Jaemin runs an aggressive campaign in turning your frown upside down. "Baby.... what's wrong...?" Jaemin's deep voice would warble out of the phone as you try to steady yourself in the bathroom at work.
"Ugh, it's... it's nothing. I'm just frustrated. I shouldn't have called, I know you're busy..."
He'd huff, the pfft somehow coming through the speaker with just as much sass as it would in person. "What is it I always say when you start pulling this nonsense?"
You exhale, glad there is no chance anyone can come in the single-occupancy restroom and hear your boyfriend giving you a pep talk over the phone.
"'You're wasting both of our times because I'm not going anywhere until you talk?"'
Jaemin's tinny voice exclaims in frustration over the phone. "Baby, no, the other thing."
You hum in understanding. "'Tough times don't last but you will?'"
He groans again. "Damn, I say way too many things, all so wise and encouraging. No, baby, 'a problem shared is a problem halved.' That's what I always so wisely say to encourage you."
You'd nod, finding amusement in just how many idioms seem to come spewing out of him. After talking to him on the phone for a bit, you'd find the strength to leave the bathroom and finish your day at work. When you finally make it home, Jaemin would hug you at the door, and gently ask how the rest of the day went, offering emotional support and advice as you saw fit. However... his biggest way of making you smile after a hard day would definitely be taking you to a late night movie and stuffing his cargo pants and hoodie with all the snacks you could ever want. He'd even go as far as to throw some cans of soda into a blanket before excitedly tucking it under his arm, urging you to get in the car so you can go snuggle at the theater with all the smuggled snacks you could ever desire. You'd cuddle up to each other, grateful it was a reclining seat theater, and that nobody else seemed to want to see this weeks-old movie at 11:00 pm on a Wednesday other than the two of you. After the movie, he'd take you on a drive around the city, playing your favorite music lowly, his hand on your thigh, allowing you to talk as you saw fit, but mostly just content with the silence, knowing the soft smile on your face was genuine. And when you fall asleep in the car? he'd drive around for a few more minutes, softly singing along to the music and gently stroking your leg as he did so.
And yeah... he'd carry you inside and shush all the cats before they'd even get a chance to meow.
And when you wake up the next day, terrified you're gonna be late for work? He's already awake, cooking breakfast :) best boyfriend in the world award loading... Chenle:Chenle is a straight-forward man. When he realized you were answering his texts after several hours with short replies, he knew action needed to be taken.
He'd call you, and after your sniffly "hullo?" would know all he needs to. Nothing would stop that man from instantly booking it to your location, which just so happened to be the parking lot of your job.
He'd park right next to your car, and tap on the passenger window gently, prompting you to unlock the door for him.
"(Y/N), what's wrong? Was it that one girl from yoga? The stupid ass girl in HR? Tell me," He'd say, taking his hands in yours, causing you to shift in your seat slightly and face him.
"I-I don't even know, Chenle. It's just everything today... one thing after the other." After showing him your cracked phone screen and broken nail, he examines your hand more carefully, turning it over with great scrutiny. 
"Um... what, Chenle?" “This color was ugly anyways…” He mutters before looking up at you. “Get in my car, we have to go.”
You look at him in shock, still a little annoyed and frustrated. “What?”
He huffs, voice unwavering and face firm. “Get. In. The. Car.” 
Suddenly he beams. “I’m taking you to get your nails redone. And in a cuter color…”
You feel a blush coming on over his insistence. “Oh, no, Chenle, it’s fine, really–”
“Stop. It’s already done. And I need you to get moving. While you’re getting your nails done, I have to make it to this appointment… you like silver, right?”
Your eyes widen in shock as you sit down in the passenger seat of Chenle’s car. “Chenle, you’re not getting me a new phone.”
Chenle laughs, shaking his head slightly. “Nobody said anything about getting you a new phone…you materialistic woman…” 
When you get picked up from your nail appointment, (which Chenle Zelle’d you the money for, plus a little extra because of “girlfriend tax”), you not only have a new latest-model silver iPhone but also a new pair of silver hoops.
You just love the way he spoils you while simultaneously keeping you on your toes. Life is never boring with him, and he never hesitates to make you feel special in his own way. 
Would definitely finish the day off by dramatically performing all of your favorite songs he normally finds really cheesy and annoying (he wants to put a smile on your face today, okay? Don’t get used to it) 
Jisung:He knows you sometimes need your space, so he’d want to feel out what the right move is. When he feels like you’re having a bad day, Jisung would first talk to you about all of your favorite topics enthusiastically, hoping it would pique your interest and cheer you up… if that was unsuccessful… he would dive deep into his trove of secrets and tell you about embarrassing things he’s done that he’s forced the other boys to hide from you (which is no easy feat seeing as they love to tell you about dumb things he has done).
“So… you just… ran away?” You say, your chest feeling lighter as you laugh.
“Well… I just felt so awkward… my voice crack echoed around the room so loudly…I knew that Haechan would be talking about it for the rest of the week.”
You laugh some more, thinking of how he must have had that cute embarrassed look on his face when it happened.
“Honestly, probably the rest of my life.” 
A cute blush would appear on his features, making you feel compelled to snuggle even closer to him, the scent of his soft hoodie doing wonders in improving your mood.
You would quietly talk on the couch for a while before Jisung would start showering you in shy compliments, telling you how much he loves your hair and your outfit, before finally asking how you could have possibly had a bad day when you look this good.
Now you’d blush, hiding your face in his hands when he looks at you with his sparkly eyes. 
“Don’t you have rehearsal now?” You’d ask and he’d shrug, looking at the time quickly before looking back at you.
“I can be late. I don’t want to go just yet.”
You’d snuggle in deeper and feel 1000x better knowing he’ll always be there when you’re feeling down.
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unhinged-waterlilly · 18 hours
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Hello!
Something about @/demigod-jack-hearth
Something I wanna say about this post (with my reblog on it). I wanna give a side of a story. Mine to be exact.
They were one of the first people I talked to outside of rp. They were a close friend. But that fades.
I DONT WANT THEM TAGGED IN THIS I DONT WANT THEM TO KNOW ABOUT THIS. I HAVE THEM BLOCKED. IF THEY LEARN ABOUT THIS, IT IS BECAUSE SOMEONE SEND THIS TO THEM.
Tw: sa, strong language, I'm a little bitch, please please please read at your own risk
When start this by saying Jack worries me. I've seen so many post, rp or otherwise, where they bring up extremely triggering comments...just randomly. This has happened to me too. I don't get bothered by them I've been lucky enough to not deal with most and be comfortable with what I have dealt with. I think he needs professional help. Or to talk to someone that is an adult. This is difficult for some people. But there are free therapy websites out there. I have seen them. I have participated in them. The people on the other line aren't professionals but they are people willing to listen. And adults.
It started with when I saw an rp they had with camp Sky. I can't give screenshots of that but I do have some of confronting them.
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Now all good right? Yeah! I thought so too. Untill an anon confronts em.
Posts here and here
Oh...kay? What's wrong about this?
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Yeah...
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Actively calling out anon
Now mind me I thought they had buried this au deep deep into the ground. Wasn't until I opened Circe's blog that I realised they didn't. I was pissed. I had every reason to be. We have so few stories of male victims as it is and this 'au' was blatantly disrespectful to victims of all genders. I felt really fucking disrespected that's for sure.
Unfortunately I don't confront them. But I do vent.
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Now I feel bad for this. Maybe this was dirty laundry I shouldn't have aired out. But I was just so angry I couldn't think properly. I didn't mention Jack in this post, but friends figured it out. I won't say who these friends are for obvious reasons. Also, this is a bit wrong. They thought Odysseus cheated with only Circe, and Calyspo was SA. I got that wrong, and I admit it. I only remembered that when I scrolled up our dm to take a screenshot of it.
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Now I wanted to leave that convo because I wasn't in the mood for arguing, and I've learned to give people what they want, which makes em and yourself stop. My fault again.
Things happen. It leads to the apology. Now, obviously, I can't tell if an apology is genuine through a screen, and I am most certainly a pessimist. So, like, I don't think it is. Also, I'm almost certain that most was written by whoever the friend was who 'helped' em.
Sure, people can change, but not enough times do they actually. Just look on the Internet. And real life. A person like Jack, well, they've talked to me enough to know it is most likely not the case. If they were so angry at a piece of good criticism, then I don't have much hope.
Am I an angry person ? Yes. Do I think I have the right to be? Yes. Am I also a logical person? I believe so. The people I've asked think so, too. I don't dislike something for no reason. But I do dislike things. What I do like is reasons for my dislikes. With me so far?
Good. Moving on.
After the apology and after I finally got my thoughts in order, I sent them a message because they tagged me. A lot.
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This is what I sent. It's emotional, but in my opinion, it also makes sense. I was mad they lied to me. I was mad they twisted the story so. Fucking. Much. Odysseus isn't a rapist and Circe isn't an innocent flower. That is not what an AU is. What was their reaction to this? Nothing. To me at least.
A mutual friend told me they sent the last half of my messages and told them that they were angry I. Didn't. Thank. Them. For. The. Apology. Take that for what you will.
Now they made another post replying to the first anon who criticized them. I've read it. And when I tell you it is so fulled with self-pity-
I haven't collected my thoughts properly about this so this is bad and more emotion than the above. but this is the basic things behind it.
1) never directly addressing what he did and constantly tell em to read the apology. Don't wanna repeat yourself. How much time is it gonna take out of your day exactly?
2) not acknowledging the fact the male sa victim. At all. They don't say anything about it. No 'my condolences'. No 'I'm so sorry that happened to you' . Not acknowledging how terrible of a thing that is. At all.
3)says they aren't gonna defend themself... and defend themselves
4) have yet to tell us who these people are. Which is just bad cuz there are people out there who are okay with this. If they were IRL friends just say that.
5) it felt just fucking dull
Maybe this isn't right. Maybe you disagree with these points. But do not tell me you disagree with the rest.
I wanna end this by saying I am victim of SA. Did I tell him this? No. Maybe I should've. I don't feel comfortable sharing it. Because remembring fucking hurts. Remembering means crying and opening the lights and either sitting or laying down on my back because I can still. Fucking. Feel. It. And I was nine.
I don't want your pity on this. I don't want you to say sorry. The people you should be saying sorry to are the people who are not believed when this happens. Feel sorry for the people who cannot report this stuff because they don't trust the people who are supposed to protect them. Feel sorry for the people who think it was their fault and they actually wanted it when they didn't. 63% of rape are not reported in females. Only 12% of child rapes are reported.
I can't find a clear fucking statistics on males.
Do you know how difficult it is for males to have any representation at all? How many male victims do you see online? Even Odysseus being regonized as one is recent. Fucking. Stop. This is more than a made up story. It means the world to some people. So this actually happen. It might mean everything. This was taken away from them from so many retellings. And a stupid fucking au.
If you want to talk about SA, wanna make a character out of it, learn about it first.
So I'm not going to forgive and I am definitely not going to forget. You can. If you want. I don't care if you do. But I ask you not to forget. Please.
I am tagging Jack's taglist
@zariahthewitch @thegroovydaughterofhestia @if-chaos-was-a-boy @the-gods-strange-children @silena-daughterofaphrodite @fabulousdaughterofhecate @weakest-son-of-sun @chaos-pers0nified @neoptolemus-achilles-son @bast-the-best26 @goddess-of-bubblegum @hispanic-child-of-hermes @gaygirldoodles @luck-is-crucial @reyna4ever @vicious-daughter-of-zeus @feral-hermes-child @oopsies-i-did-a-thing @unfortunate-daughter-of-hestia @that-girl-cupid @ariathemortal @love-lightning-forethought @emdabitchass @kaiaalwayswins @champion-of-revenge @zoe-aura-of-d3ath @itsyourboyezra @lunar-eklipso-r @pink-koi-lovejoy @that-daughter-of-athena @sleepy-as-a-song @smileyalater @gellyhelio @daughter-ofthe-moontitan @demeters-daughter-is-done @the-smart-and-the-dumb-one @trinket-snatcher @creature-under-ur-bed @burnt-out-bitxhes @cloak-of-ares @heraaaaaaaa @unproblematic-hestia @i-was-never-sane
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igotanidea · 2 days
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Not your fucking bussiness: Jason Todd x reader (club singer AU!)
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***
„Where are you going?”
„Not your fucking business.”
„Oh! You are going to see her again, aren’t you?”
“Who?”
“Come on, Jay, don’t play dumb with me. You are going to see her!”
“And like I said it’s not your fucking business. Mind your own, Harper.”
This discussion was way beyond his level, therefore Jason just grabbed his jacket off the hanger and walked out the door.
“He is so going to go see her.” Roy crossed his arms, watching his friend leaving with a knowing smirk, nodding his head.
His little Jaybird was growing up so fast…
Two months earlier
They were tired beyond anything ever experienced before. Tired, stressed, barely walking more like dragging their feet on the ground, wanting nothing more but a shower and a bed. But – there’s always this kid in class who will ask the teacher for homework just before the end of the lesson. Or – in this case – the one Outlaw member who comes up with the idea of unwinding in the bar. 
“Come on, let’s grab some drinks, it’s been ages since we got wasted.” Roy insisted, clearly not bothered by the frowns and groans of the rest of the group.
“There’s a reason for that, Roy.” Artemis sighed, rubbing her temples “we’re too busy to-“
“We’re so busy we’re actually becoming boring.” Harper cut her off almost brutally.
“Hey! Who are you calling boring?!” The Amazon took a few steps towards the man with a fierce expression.
“When was the last time you looked in the mirror, Arti?”
“When I;m done with you I’ll—“
“Ok, okay, enough!” Kori stepped in between the two fighting friends before things escalated further “we’ve all had enough, there’s no need to add to it.”
“He’s such a jerk though!” Artemis hissed
“Yeah, sure. He and Jason both.”
“Hey!” This time Jason felt the need to intervene and object to the allegation.
“The only guy who’s actually nice in this group is Bizzaro-“ Kori continued, completely unbothered by Jason’s exclamation. 
“I’m bad.” Bizzaro grinned, clearly satisfied by the words coming from the Tamaranian.
“Yes, yes you are, big guy. So. I don’t know about you, Artemis, but I’d actually like to have a little bit of fun for a change. I think we deserve it.”
“I’m not going anywhere!” Jason exclaimed, clenching his fists. Seriously? Were those guys functioning in the same reality as him?!  Gotham was in constant danger, crime lords and criminals lurking in every corner and the Outlaws just decided to grab a drink and unwind?! The hell happened to his team?! They had so much on their heads and now – for some crazy reason – it felt like everyone was agreeing with everyone leaving his opinion as a leader of the team on the sideline.
And he did not like it.
“We are not going anywhere.” He hissed as if that was going to stop anyone.
“we are.” Roy grinned and Jason could sense the mischief in his eyes.
“we are—fuck! Put me down!”
Anyone who dared to look outside their window on that night would have been shocked to notice the infamous Outlaws casually walking the Gotham street with a very angered Red Hood being carried in the iron grip of Bizzarro, kicking and screaming like a five year old kid, very unhappy about such humiliation.
***
Obviously they could not just walk into the bar, dressed like their vigilantes self so the first stop was the nearest safe house, dealing with the quickest ever outfit change, patching up the most serious cuts and bruises. Only after dealing with all that, not even caring about looking presentable, the group walked down to finally grab the drink.
A plan that seemed to drag on forever.
Deep inside, Jason was hoping for a quiet night, praying that at this crazy night hour there wouldn’t be many people in that 24/7 club and he would be able to just snug in the dark corner sipping his drink and checking the surroundings for the possible threats.
And for once it seemed like his prayers were listened to.
As they entered the deserted place, eyes of the already drunk regulars landed on them, but one warning look from Jason made them stop wanting to cause any trouble.
“Oh!” Roy gasped, a little disappointed. “I was hoping that she would be here.”
“She?” Jason frowned
“You mean Y/N?” Kori smiled, “I think it’s past her shift.”
“It’s a shame though.” Artemis added “it’s been too long since we saw her-“
“We?” the frown on Jason’s face deepened. Suddenly he felt terribly left out. Who was this Y/N his friend was so clearly enamored with? And why did it feel like they were coming to see her without him?
As if adding fuel to the fire of his thoughts Bizzaro nodded.
“We no see her often.”
“Oh, right…” It seemed like his friends were leaving him behind and it hurt, but Jason would never admit it out loud, quickly covering his fears with a signature smirk and sarcastic attitude “Guess you’ll have to survive without whoever this girl is. I’ll go grab drinks, regular for you, folks?”
***
He already had enough, heading to the bar and ordering himself a beer, wondering if it would be rude to just take an Irish exit. His group, his friends just dispersed in the facility and to be honest, Jason has never felt more lonely. Sometimes it felt like this family he made for himself was just waiting for the moment to move on with their lives and leave him alone again. And the more he sipped his beverage, the more he worried that things would go back to the way they were. That he’d fall behind those people, who clearly had a way of finding their place in the society. Maybe they were only waiting for an opportunity to lose him.
And ironically, that thought made him want to hold on to his friends even tighter. Preventing him from leaving the club.
Jason shifted on his seat, turning towards the both his friends were occupying, his eyes scanning the place. The Outlaws might have shed the skin of the vigilantes turning into the normal humans, losing their usual vigilance, but he was not going to. If no one else, he was going to make sure those people he held dear (though if anyone asked, there would be very explicit denial and a fair amount of mean jokes on that) were safe.
For a time being, everything seemed secure, but it was Gotham after all. Things could change in a blink of an eye.
And Jason Todd was not known for letting his guard down easily.
Never.
He was always on the watch, careful, a little stand-offish.
And clearly he was right cause all of a sudden he heard the commotion coming from the side of the little club scene. His ears perked at the sound of man’s and woman’s voices, quickly catching up on the fact that he was trying to convince her to do something and she was objecting, though he could not figure out what they were talking about.
“Come on, Y/N- just this once. Just one more-“
“No way! I think I’ve had enough for one night!”
“Please… for me?”
“You want me to get a sore throat? I think I’ve already been taking in more than I can.”
Oh wow.
Jason blushed a little, wondering if maybe that was the time to stop listening to the conversation. 
“Please, Y/N, come on… there are still people here and they’d love a performance…”
Okay.
Now was clearly the time to stop listening to the conversation.
And possibly to leave the place, cause it seemed like his friends just dragged him into a den that was way beyond his comfort zone.
He sighed deeply and joined his friends in the booth ready to force some reason in their heads.
“Okay, people listen up, as a leader of this team-“ he started, meeting with facial expressions ranging from amusement (Artemis) through disbelief (Bizarro) and leniency (Kori) to the open mockery (Roy).
“Not tonight, Jason.”
“Okay, you know what, by all means you stay and have fun but I’m leaving and—” he started again, hoping that his so-called friends would ask him to stay and fight a little.
“Hey, is that Y/N?” Instead, everyone’s heads snapped to the direction of the stage and then a bright smile showed on their faces as they clearly noticed a girl who was far more entertaining than Jason at the moment.
“Y/N! Hi!” Kori waved her hand at the girl “would you give us one?”
For the first time in a long, long time, Jason felt defeated, slumping onto the seat, sipping his drink, not even caring to look into the direction of the stage. He didn’t care.
“Hey Jaybird, look up or you might miss something nice to your sore eyes.”
Huh.
The hell?
Oh…
Oh shit…
Why was his heart picking up the pace and beating out of his chest?
 “Yep, that’s her. And you’re blushing.” Roy chuckled and sipped his drink.
To be completely honest, Jason did not even hear whatever words were coming out of Roy's mouth. She stole all his attention. Making his mind go blank and his ear deaf and his eyes focused only on her. But even in his hazy state he managed to connect the dots, figuring out that the girl he overheard talking was the one his friends were referring to. So maybe they knew her? Was there any chance that they could acquaint him with her? But—this was the girl talking about taking things in and sore throat so what exactly was her job here? Was she a-
No.
No, no, no.
She looked so beautiful, innocent and sympathetic. Alluring but not in the way that would cause any suspicions about her profession. Not that the profession itself was something bad, but this was definitely not Y/N.
Shit, he was blushing hard and knew it, cause the heat he felt was enough of an indication.
“Jason?”
“Hey, Todd, come back to earth.”
“I think he just short circuited!”
The mocking and teasing voices of his friends finally reached his ears, shaking him off his reverie.
“Oh, shut up…” he muttered, trying to control his pounding heart and shaking hands.
“You know I’ve never really seen you like that. Ever.”
“Shut up, Harper.”
“Nah, I don’t think I will. The fact that you are being so affected makes it all even funnier.”
“Come on, Roy. Give poor Jason a break.” Kori laughed. “Our fella here seems to be falling and he hasn't even heard her sing yet.”
“Sing?” Jason raised his head, trying to process the new information and fit it into the puzzle.
“Yeah, sing. She’s a singer here. Wait – what did you think she was doing?”
“Nothing…” he hissed, looking down, not liking the fact he was the source of entertainment and a subject of jokes of his friends.
“Me don’t have an idea” Bizzaro smiled brightly and stood up from behind the table, almost knocking all the drinks down. “Me not going to ask her to sing.”
Before anyone could stop him (not that anyone actually tried) Bizzaro trotted to the scene exchanging a few words with Y/N, pointing at Jason, who wished he had his helmet on to hide himself. No one in their sound mind would point a finger at him when in his Red hood suit. But at the moment he was just a regular guy, unable to fight his real, a little shy and too sensitive nature showing. And also trying his best to not look in her direction.
Due to his hiding state, he missed Y/N lightening up, nodding at Bizzaro, saying something with a cheerful nod and climbing up the scene, fixing her microphone.
“Uh-huh. Looks like she’s about to sing after all. Bizzaro definitely has a talent for convincing people. And Y/n seems to like our little Superman -clone.” Artemis teased, playing on the strings of Jason shaking heart.
He wanted so bad to tell her something harsh and mean, but the melody and quickly following voice made it impossible.
His head snapped towards the scene, watching her.
Definitely in her element.
Shining like a star (no offense to Starfire), feeling the song, putting emotions into the words that otherwise would sound empty and without meaning. But sung by her? Somehow, Jason found himself in a completely different reality, where threats and strategic thinking had like zero meaning. All that mattered was watching her every move. And oh- how much he wanted to just stand up and walk to the stage, seeing her from the close up, instead of being forced to keep his distance, sitting in the booth. (though to be completely honest, even if he tried to walk his shaking legs would probably give up under him).
He was in trouble.
And his friends knew it too.
***
He needed to see her again.
And again and again and again.
Needed to meet her, to get to know her beyond that stage.
He wanted to be able to see her walking on the stage and think that this was his girl being a star.
To assure that whatever men were cheering for her by the stage, offering her drinks and sending her flowers she would only have eyes for him.
Those pretty e/c eyes that crossed with him that fateful night when Outlaws dragged him to the club.
He hated and loved them at the same time.
Because now he turned into a putty and was on his best way to become an alcoholic, using having drinks as an excuse to see her over and over and over. Cursing himself for not having enough guts to just talk to her, settling on watching her from the back of the club like a creep, probably scaring her off.
He had no chance with someone like her.
Not with his scars and baggage and stuff. And his other life. No way. This would only bring her trouble and danger and it was safer to stay in the shadows letting her shine.
But the more he attended her performances – be it on the previously arranged club shows or the quiet nights when she was singing only to the few half-drunk regulars and just for the fun of it – his heart ached for more.
“Where are you going, Jason?”
“Let me guess you are going to the club again?”
“Seems to me like you’re turning into a real party animal.”
‘You don’t like Y/N.”  
Teasing remarks were haunting him for the last two months and at some point Jason decided it was taking too much energy to keep pretending. Every time he was leaving somewhere Roy, Kori, Artemis and Bizzaro seemed to know.
So instead of explaining himself or telling them to leave him alone, he was just grabbing his jacket and leaving without any word. Making sure to only come back when everyone was asleep so he could lay in his bed in the silence and dream.
Dream of holding her hand, of holding her, of forming a real, genuine connection.
But it was just that. A dream. Some crazy fantasy that would never come true for him, no matter how much he was praying for it.
***
“Hi.”
She was standing next to him, extending her hand, and for a second he couldn’t comprehend what she wanted him to do with the fact.
“I’m Y/N.”
“I know.” He only managed to stutter.
“Oh I know you know. You’ve been coming here for the last two months, night by night. One would think you’d learn my name by now.”
“Yeah… um…”
“I’d like to learn your name though. Cause I for sure know you are friends with Biz, but not much more than that.”
“My – my name?”
“Yeah, you know, the title you’re being called on a daily basis?” she chuckled and her laugh sounded equally beautiful as her singing. “Wait, no, let me guess – is it Thomas? Or maybe Todd?”
Jason laughed despite himself.
“What? Did I guess?”
“Not the first name. Todd is actually my second name. Jason is first.”
“Nice to meet you, Jason.” She reached for his hand herself and in any other case he would just avoid physical contact at any cost. But it was different with her.
“Nice to meet you too, Y/N.”
He wanted to say so many things to her. How he liked her singing and how she made his nights magical and how pretty she was and all that mushy, touchy-feely stuff that she probably heard a million times before. Words however never came easy to him, instead sticking to his throat causing him to grunt awkwardly, mentally slapping himself for letting the silence prolong. He could almost feel her slipping from his grasp and losing the one in a million chance.
“Would you like to grab a very early breakfast with me?” he blurted, not really believing what the hell just came out of his mouth, already preparing himself for a hard no. 
“Yes! Thank god!” she looked towards the sky, putting her hands together as if to prayer. She was funny and he already liked it. “Finally someone smart enough to realize that after spending the entire day and half of the night in the bar, I’m not prone to having drinks. I’d love to grab something to eat. I’m starving.”
“A girl with an appetite?” Jason teased, feeling his heart flutter, the tension melting away.
“Yeah, I know, it looks bad, but sorry not sorry, I won’t be eating salad just to pretend to be someone I’m not. How about we grab burgers?”
It seemed like Jason was on the highway to falling in love.
***
The little diner was completely empty, giving them a perfect opportunity to talk and joke and tease and banter and bicker without hushing or judgment.
It turned out that they had a similar sense of humor and fairly similar interests.
Exchanging thoughts on books and their adaptations, talking about dreams and wishes and reflecting on deep stuff has never been this nice to Jason. It felt like he knew this girl for years, finding a kindred spirit in this h/c firecracker.
So only when the first rays of sunshine showed on the horizon and they were practically kicked out of the place, they left their seats going out being hit with the cold morning air. And when she shivered from the chill Jason did the unthinkable, reaching to pull her to his side and running hand up and down her spine to warm her.
And damn, it worked for both of them.
And damn she did not pull back.
And damn when he walked her home, to the door, and they just stood there for what seemed like eternity, like two awkward teenagers not sure what to do with the newfound, deep-level connection.
“So-“
“So-“
“You first.”
“No, no, please, you go first.”
“Um… Can I see you again?”
“Sure! I mean – “ she collected herself quickly “I hope you’ll come to my next performance.”
“Of course, but I was thinking that – um… maybe we can grab early breakfast again? Or – very late dinner, depending on the end of your work?”
“Very late dinner sounds nice…” she smiled at the ground, avoiding his eyes.
“Really!?”
“Yeah… I mean, I told you I always get hungry after a performance. So dinner always sounds nice and – and a nice company would be an added value…”
“So I’m an added value, Y/N?” he asked, trying to sound casual but unable to hide the slight trembling of his voice due to the emotions.
“I did not say it!” she leaned to kiss his cheek, her lips lingering on his skin for a little longer than necessary. “Now go, before I call the police because I got a strange man harassing me in front of my house!”
***
He sneaked into the house, stepping on his tiptoes to avoid waking up any other member of the team.
Laying head on the soft pillow, ready to start dreaming again, but this time a little more reality-based fantasy –
“Hey Jason, where have you been?” Roy grinned peeking through the door.
“None of your fucking business” Jason grinned back, happier than ever.
***
my dear @ladychibirae! - thank you for this requests, I really hope you like it, cause I sure enjoyed writing it. I just sat down and before I realised, there was a 10 pages story in my docs. honestly, it's been a while since I wrote something so long <3
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writingoddess1125 · 2 days
Text
1999 Pt 6
Kurt Wagner x Fem Reader
Some Angst, Sad Topics, Mild Domestic Violence
Reader has Empath abilities and can feel others emotions, her mind can not be read either, and if she touches someone she can make them feel what feel what she feels.
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Marvel Masterlist <<
Kofi
(Y/N) stood in her kitchen angrily chopping down on some vegetables. Her lips a thin tight line as she minced some onion like it had wronged her.
It had been a shit show to say the least.
Kurt's little stunt of immediately outing himself as Milo and Leon's father had turned her livingroom into what could only be described as a emotional battle ground... that turned into a physical one.
Sure the first few seconds may have been silently as it felt like a vacuum had sucked out all the air in the room.
It was then that Milo had been the first to take action breaking the still room, rolling up from his seat next to (Y/N) as he smoothed out invisible imperfections in his clothes like he was a professional. His face like stone making it unreadable as he looked to all the adults in the room and wished them a good evening, going as far as to shake Xaviers hand. His emotions which had been a rolling tirade seemed to have just shut off at the sight of Kurt-
Poor Xavier normally a rational man seemed just as surprised as he shook Milo's hand silently as the teen left the livingroom, shifting to his humanoid form and walking out of the house silently, the poor Professor hand still hanging in the air were Milo had left it.
(Y/N), Xavier, Jean, Logan and Kurt staring at the front door where Milo had just left- Before the adults eyes all shifted to Leon who was still standing there- His eyes staring at Kurt still as he seemed to be shaking a bit, so many emotions going across his face that it was overwhelming...
(Y/N) Just starting to come out of her own shock tried to reach out to her remaining son, but when her fingers touched him he recoiled like she had burned him, his eyes starting to shimmer with tears.
Stepping back once, then again as if they would all attack him if he moved too fast... Before his tail tucked between his legs, and he Bamf away in a second.
...
This lead to (Y/N) doing the first thing that came to her mind..
Throwing the nearest thing at Kurt- Aka a Table Lamp.
And try to jump over the coffee table to strangle the blue elf who had been dazed by the lamp...
Of course having several X-Men with two of the most powerful telepaths probably on earth it was fairly quick to get the now screaming women down- Kurt having not reacted fast enough to the lamp being thrown trying to recover as Jean and Xavier tried to get her calm. Logan knowing when it was a queue to leave- Helping Kurt up and out of the house.
It had been a bit of a blur after that, from the emotional unleash that (Y/N) displayed- To Jean also crying and asking for forgiveness in the part she played in this cluster fuck. Then (Y/N) kicking the two telepaths put of her home- Xavier apologizing of course and trying to ease the tension as he escorted Jean out of the home to leave (Y/N) to her own devices.
And now she was in the kitchen angrily cooking away, in her kitchen. Her mind racing with what part of her life she needed to deal with first.
Her Past coming back like a giant blue pimple on her ass- Her son's who had disapeared and possibly hate her? Or the own heart break that seemed to rear its ugly head again everytime she looked at the blue pimple asshole fucker fuck fuck!!..
She didn't know why cooking was what she decided would ease her brain- Most would think screaming, crying, stoically staring at a wall.. but nope- Chopping vegetables seemed to be it.
In the background the soft sound of a door opening and closing, and heavy steps coming towards her. Hearing the soft sound of padded feet hitting lamonated tile (Y/N) didn't need to look to know who it was- Kurt standing next to her awkwardly as he held a bag of frozen vegetables to his head were the lamp had oh so gracefully connected.
"...I... wish to apologize.. again" Kurt said softly, setting a box of beer on the counter not far from were she was cutting the vegetables-
It was definitely a risk to bring alcohol to a very angry Ex with a knife- However Kurt at this point didn't know what else to do... he felt like if he brought flowers (Y/N) may shove them in a place he really didn't want-
(Y/N) paused her actions taking a deep breath, setting the knife down and grabbed a can of beer which she silently opened, taking a sip of as Kurt grabbed one as well doing the same for his own drink.
Both adults now drinking beer in a partly destroyed house. Kurt couldn't help but be at least mildly impressed- She'd defiently caught him by surprise.
"...I threw a lamp at you"
(Y/N) finally said, seemingly finally coming to terms with the last few hours.
"Ja.. You did"
The two of them stood in silence again, Kurt pulling the homemade ice pack away and setting it next to him.
"I shouldn't have done.. many thing- Showing myself... leaving you... it was.. unfair to you" Kurt mumbled, glancing to (Y/N) as he watched her sip her beer once more, her face fairly unreadable.
"Yeah... I'm sorry for the Lamp-"
Kurt couldn't help but chuckle at this, for some reason finding it a bit funny. Even (Y/N) cracked a slight smile at this as she looked down at her beer can and nodded silently.
Silence again..
"Do you.. need help with dinner?" Kurt offered, Gesturing to the mess of vegetables. (Y/N) also looking at her minced masterpiece, drinking more of her beer and sighing heavily.
"Honestly- I have no idea what I was planning on making. I think I was just chopping stuff for the sake of it" She admitted, Kurt nodding understanding silently Thanking God that she had taken her anger on the vegetables.
"When do you think they will.. return?"
(Y/N) shrugged, clearly deflated at this point as she leaned against the counter top finishing her drink and grabbing another sadly.
"They can teleport farther then you and it can be a real pain to find them when they don't wanna be found.. so it's best to wait it out"
"How far?" He asked, curiosity getting the best of him. (Y/N) smiling at this as she shook her head once more-
"So far they have gone about 20 miles"
Oh how Kurt looked to (Y/N) with pure joy on his face, a boyish laugh bubbling through him.
"20 Miles!? That 32 Kilometers! Ha!" He said as he clapped his hands together excitedly, for a moment he forgot about the problems that weighed on him- He couldn't help but let pride bubble in his chest, his sons were already amazing!
"Mhm.." (Y/N) hummed, drinking more of her beer as she stared at nothing. Kurt realizing right now may not be the best time to be bubbling in joy at his new found sons, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked to his former lover.
Awkward silence again. (Y/N) finished her beer and sat up suddently, tossing her two cans in the trash.
"I'll order food... the boys will be back eventually and probably be hungry" She said rather matter of factly- turning away from Kurt as she went to find some take out menus
"Ja.. That sounds like a good idea..." He mumbled clasping his hands together infront of himself awkwardly.
Lord Help Me...
The two of them didn't speak again to each other- Not when food had been ordered, nor delivered or when the two of them awkwardly sat in the livingroom to eat.
The food was no better then ash in either of their mouths, silently chewing on the oily food. It was awkward.. so very very awkward-
However in a weird way Kurt felt like this awkward feeling (and the knot on his forehead) were little in the price of penance for leaving (Y/N) and his children... It was a small price after all he had done- or more correctly what his inaction had done.
He had so many questions.. He wanted to know what the twins were like, their interest, what their birthdays were, what (Y/N) had been through, if she had photos of those major events in their lives.
(Y/N) stopped eating as she rubbed her face with a heavy sigh.
"Ask Kurt.. You forget I can feel your emotions"
Kurt blushed a big, his cheeks turning purple at forgetting she could feel what he was.
"Leid (Sorry).."
At this small glimmer of what he hoped was forgiveness he asked away every question that came to his mind about his children.. Sitting there, intensely listening to (Y/N) as she told him everything- well everything involving the children, seemingly ignoring anything that had to do with herself.
From their favorite foods, colors, stories of their life, Kurt found himself pleasantly surpsied at how forthcoming she was with this information. Happy to know as much as he could, even chuckling at a few stories he had been told about his offsprings.
"Thank you (Y/N).. I do have to know, Why Milo and Leon? A Soilder and a Lion- Quite strong names"
"That I'll keep to myself-" (Y/N) said calmly, Kurt deciding not to pry any further and nodding. After that it went back to silence, Dinner was finished- Leftovers placed on the counter in hopes of enticing the teenagers. (Y/N) was even generous enough to allow Kurt to sleep on the couch that evening. Before she disapeared down the hallway into her own room- Doubting she was sleeping...
So now Kurt sat in the dark livingroom-
He couldn't sleep.. not in the fucking slightest.
Sitting up he rubbed his face, In times like this his faith felt like his only anchor.. Truly his Hail Mary.
His rosary in his hand as he counted the beads and prayed... He prayed for forgiveness... He prayed for his sons not to hate him... For (Y/N) for give him... Or just for his sons to return soon.
eins.. zwei... drei... vier... fünf
His mind went back to his boys however between his counting of the holy beads.
...Milo favorite color is Red like the Chicago Bulls... He loves Basketball, His favorite food is Strawberries...
sechs.. sieben... acht... neun... zeun..
He had good grades, likes to read a lot since he says it makes him relaxed and his favorite music is R & B.. He Likes the group Dru Hill ..
eins.. zwei... drei... vier... fünf
..Leon favorite color is Yellow because he thinks his eyes are cool.. He loves to skateboard, and his favorite food is spaghetti with extra cheese and ranch...
sechs.. sieben... acht... neun... zeun..
He is a terrible student since he can't sit still, he loves punk and rock music, his favorite band is Red Hot Chili Peppers..
Kurt's eyes began to grow heavy as he thought to himself and continue to count, his lids beginning to droop as darkness took in his vision.
eins.. zwei... drei...
As his eyes finally closed, as exhaustion of the emotional day wrapped around him-
Missing the kitchen window slowly sliding open..
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beforetimes · 13 hours
Text
telepathy kink is always talked about but i loveee the way erik's relationship with charles' mutation is dependant on how much he trusts charles + how willing he would be to submit to charles should he ever use it. like in first class charles spends time flicking in and out of erik's head no issue because erik trusts charles and also when charles was in erik's head, he brought out a piece of happiness that erik no longer thought he had. so he's more willing to submit to charles' telepathy. and he puts the helmet on because he's more vulnerable directly after killing the man who was such a direct source of violence in his life and realizing that it wasn't enough—which probably shook erik to his core, because his whole life he's been hunting this one guy just to find that it's not over yet?
and then in days of future past, erik once again goes back to saying 'i don't have my helmet i couldn't disobey you if i wanted' which some people read as a taunt, some people read as him not accepting charles' mutation (which like? i don't think erik has ever not accepted him, but whatever) but i personally read it as erik once more trying to find his footing with charles after a decade apart.
anyway now that i talked about canon stuff i think specifically in the context of a sexual relationship, the telepathy stuff would be a way for erik to give up control over the situation and put his full trust in charles. which is important because a) erik is someone who thrives on being in control and finds it very important because so much of his agency was robbed of him and choosing to submit to a higher power than his own is something that insinuates a great deal of trust in the other party and b) charles is the only one who he could do this with because charles proved that he had the capacity to invade erik's mind and know him wholly and didn't take advantage of that and has shown time and time again he will help erik no matter what.
its also the fact that erik repeatedly implies that charles' telepathy will be used to control him when its a much more surface-level/baseline understanding that telepathy is the reading of minds rather than outright taking control of them. it's even in the definition of telepathy. but knowing charles can take control of him and constantly inviting him to (in an assumed sexual context, in this case) highlights how erik sort of longs to have responsibility for his actions taken away from him. which again can only be done by charles. not just because of his powers but because so many of his actions have directly hurt charles and he's the only one who can both metaphorically and physically relieve him of the culpability behind the consequences of what he's done when in complete control of himself. so again erik is someone who wants to relieve himself of his overly-controlling nature, his responsibilities, be completely vulnerable to someone who's seen him at his worst and loved him anyway.
and the only way erik can be all these things at once is by being under charles' control. (under the control of someone stronger than erik who has proven he will never hurt him with the power charles can exert over him).
so like sexually yes it's fun to say haha erik telepathy kink but also i think it is something much more tender which encapsulates the fact that erik is only this vulnerable with someone he has so much trust in and that person can only ever be charles because its only around charles he can truly be wholly himself. and so submissive erik is real to me #tbh
hope this makes sense i am kind of just rambling
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Musician Age Gap AU Pt 11
As soon as Alex and her family are safely in a car on the way to a hotel, Kara and Lena board Lena's jet back to the states. During the flight, Lena curls in on herself, picking nervously at her cuticles with a worried, guilty expression.
"Hey," Kara says, pulling Lena's gaze towards her. Her features remain heavy. "I'm not mad."
At that, Lena's face softens, but only enough to grimace with a soft huff. "You're not the one I'm worried about."
Kara must look confused, because Lena soon continues.
"As a rule, my mother knows who I spend my time with, and when." The guilt returns. "Except for you."
"So she didn't know I was in Capri with you..."
Lena confirms it with a shake of her head. "Nor why I went back to National City."
Well... this wouldn't be easy then. Dealing with a rabid press is one thing-- being at odds with one of the key players in keeping her family safe is another.
"I'm sorry," Lena murmurs. "I just... wanted to keep you mine. Just for a little while."
Kara shoots her a look. "I'm still not mad."
"You can be. If you want."
"I don't." She moves seats, switching to the bench Lena's on. She makes no attempt to still Lena's nervous picking, but simply spreads her legs enough for the outsides of their thighs to touch. Kara intends the physical contact to serve as reassurance, but she doesn't know if it works.
"I'm a big girl, Lena. I know I can back out whenever I want to. But I don't. Not yet."
A little bit of warmth cuts through Lena's anxious fog. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." Kara's heart beats a little faster, when a small smile answers her. Impulsively, she leans over to kiss Lena's cheek. She feels... giddy? Far more exhilirated she has any right to feel at her age. "Bring it."
----
Lillian Luthor is a slender, austere woman. Kara clocks her the moment the plane lands on the tarmac, tall and styled in her designer clothes and looks that only money and astronomically good genes could provide.
Only Kara witnesses the short beat Lena takes before stepping out of the plane, bracing herself for whatever follows. Kara keeps pace with her once they descend the ladder in single file. She may not be driving this bus, but she is no shrinking flower. In this, she is Lena's equal.
Not that the look Lillian gives her would have anyone believe.
"In the car," the woman orders. "Now."
Lena obeys without a word. Kara is a little slower to fall in line, but ultimately follows Lena's lead. Lillian climbs in behind them, leaving Jess and a woman Kara doesn't recognize to scramble on board last.
"The family is checked into the Lariat. So far no indication that they've been identified, but its still early."
"What about Kara?"
"What about you??" Lillian demands, tone scathing in its heat. "What were you thinking?"
Kara sees Lena wilt, and anger bubbles up in her throat. "Don't talk to her like that--"
"You have zero business here," Lillian fires back with steel in her voice.
"Mom!" Lena exclaims in Kara's defense. "It's not that big a deal--"
Ice blue eyes turn on Lena, freezing her to the spot. "It's a big enough deal that you saw fit to sneak behind my back, with a woman twice your age no less--"
"Mom!"
"Timeline, now."
Lena's shoulders sag, but says nothing. Looking to divert some of Lillian's ire, Kara moves to speak up. "We--"
"She already knows," Lena rolls her eyes.
"I do," her mother confirms. "But I'll hear it from you nonetheless."
Lena huffs. "Night two of the National City stop. Her niece left her phone backstage, and we exhanged numbers."
"Then?"
"Texting."
The exhange sounds like a repeat of one they've had many times before. Neither Jess nor the other woman-- who Kara assumes is Lillian's own assistant-- look at all nervous at the rapidfire crossing of words.
"Texting?" Lillian demands. "Or sexting?"
Kara bristles. "I don't see how that's any of your--"
"*Texting*, Mom, god!" Lena seethes. Her cheeks are bright red, from anger or embarassment or both. "Will you just--"
"Just *what* Lena?"
Lillian's voice is so sharp Kara can see the moment it cuts Lena down. Her jaw tightens, and when Kara sublty shifts to take her hand, Lena shifts away.
Satisfied that her daughter is suitably in line, Lillian turns to her assistant. "Mercy, have PR prepare a statement. The photos were misconstrued, they simply capture a couple of friends taking in the sights."
"Mom, no," Lena croaks. "I don't want-- who cares if people know that I'm gay--?"
"You are not gay!"
Lena flinches, features blanching as though Lillian had landed a physical blow. Only then does Lillian seem to realize that she's talking to an actual person. Her tone doesn't soften, exactly, but it doesn't sharpen any further.
"Your *brand* isn't," she amends, likely the closest thing to thing to an apology Lena would get.
"I thought Lena is the brand," Kara interjects.
Lillian's frigid gaze snaps to her. "She is."
"Her fans are more open-minded than you think--"
"Her fans don't buy tickets," Lillian informs her coolly. "Their parents do. And *they* are far less forgiving."
Kara looks towards Lena, who meets her gaze with a helpless one of her own. It's not untrue-- Esme hadn't bought her tickets, after all.
"Then what do we do?" Kara allows finally.
"Cut ties. Immediately." Lillian looks down her nose at Kara, her regard as condescending as though she were speaking to a teenager, not a women merely ten years her junior.
"No."
To Kara's surprise, Lena's response is faster than her own, and carries only the barest of trembles.
"Don't be foolish..."
"I'm not--"
"Do you love her?"
Lena freezes. Her gaze flicks to Kara. "It's only been a few weeks..."
"Precisely. Cut ties now, before--"
"But I want to," Lena finishes. This time, her gaze lingers on Kara's, a small smile warming her eyes. "I want to love her."
Lillian scoffs low in her throat. "You're too old to be play the love sick teenager. Or have you forgotten what happened last time?"
Kara watches Lena hold her mother's gaze, something heavy passing between them, inscrutable to anyone else. But Lena holds her ground, and surprisingly, Lillian is the one to back down.
"Then what would you suggest?"
"Like you said-- we give them something else to talk about." Lena swallows, but forges ahead. "I have some new material, I can perform it live in Paris."
Lillian purses her lips, but doesn't smack down the idea. She considers it, her gaze calculating. "And you two?"
"We do what we want," Lena delivers firmly. "No statement, no confirmation or denial. Let people see interpret it however they want. However they need."
Kara thinks of the young fans, isolated in their orientations or identities, seeing themselves reflected in their favorite artist. The gift that would be, the vote of confidence needed to dream of a future where what Lena and Kara share might be theirs.
Lillian shoots Kara a hard glare. "And you? It's your family in the crossfire if this idea goes to shit."
"Then it goes to shit, and we deal with it."
It might be selfish of her, but in all of their conversations, neither Alex or Kelly have suggested backing off. They spoke only of adapting, of overcoming, and Kara knows she has their unspoken support. And even now, being talked down to and chided, she feels happier sitting next to Lena in this moment than she has in years.
Lillian barely contains her snort of derision.
"Very well," she concedes, with a sharp note of criticism. Then she turns from them entirely to speak with Mercy in low tones.
Kara takes advantage of the moment to lean closer to Lena, murmuring in her ear.
"I want to go to Paris with you."
Lena blinks at her. "You don't have to--"
"Would you feel better if I were there?" Kara asks bluntly. Lena deflates a little, but this time in relief rather than shame.
"Yeah."
"Then let me come." Kara gives Lena's hand a squeeze, and is rewarded with a tired smile. "You're not alone in this."
"Okay," Lena says, her smile deepening into a challenge. "Let's bring it."
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m3vl0vesu · 1 day
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𝑨 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒅
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He didn’t smile. 
.
.
That was one thing you noticed about the only other kid in the classroom, one of the many Wayne kids.
 And apparently the only biological one, not that you cared really. His family was none of your business, you should really be more concerned about your own to be honest…never mind. You closed your eyes and sighed, catching the attention of the boy, who was now sitting in your chair. Well it wasn’t yours but it was yours. He watched as  you adjusted the pile of sketching paper slightly to the right, making sure they were all aligned perfectly. He watched you watching the boxes full of dis-arranged paint tubes and bottles, he saw the way your hand twitched at the scene. Weird. 
.
.
It was a Thursday afternoon and every Thursday, after last period,  you would head towards the art room upstairs. It was the only club you ever joined. You got to know everyone there and some even became your friends. But even after the club ended you’d still linger in the room. Even after you'd cleaned up your (and other people’s) mess, and you had put the pencils away, and you had cleaned the paint pots, you lingered. It had become a habit, you enjoyed the quietness. You enjoyed that the only noise you could hear was your breathing. What you didn’t enjoy was that the ‘new’ kid also liked staying behind. 
Ruining one of the only times your mind was quiet…or quieter than usual. I mean it’s not like he was loud or anything no-it was just his presence, you wanted to be alone-no. Needed do be alone. But what can you do? He liked art. He was damn good at it too. 
So there really was no point in being annoyed, just suck it up and deal with it. Like you always do. Why do you always do that? After another sigh, you swing your bag over your shoulder and walk out. You didn’t mean to slam the door, honestly there was no reason for you to be angry, Damian didn’t do anything wrong. Damian. Damian. Ugh. Why was his name also annoying? . . . As you turn the corner you stop abruptly. Looking up you meet the eyes of your Art teacher, Miss Williams, she looked down with an eyebrow raised. You smiled. You really did adore her and her loving nature, she was like a big mama bear. Gotham didn’t deserve her. She was so…her.
 Every other day she had some new fun way to do her hair, today her afro was star-shaped. Fitting. You smile softer, the sound of her voice saying your name pulling you out of your trance. “You're leaving earlier than usual” she states, almost concerned, “is something wrong?” You just shake your head, leaving after a simple goodbye
.
.
.
The bus was almost empty. Your eyes stared at Gotham Academy until it was out of sight. It was a big school, you hated it. 
Hated the rumour-filled halls, the rude pompous pricks that roamed the halls, hated that you were on a scholarship for so therefore could not escape it. And you especially hated how proud your mother looked whenever she saw you in the uniform. As the bus continued to drive you watched the big mansions and penthouses turn into dirty streets and run-down apartments. It was a big difference. Messy, dirty, bloody…home. Your eyes spotted the way the bus driver’s lips tugged upwards as you gave him a small thank you. It was probably the only nice words he heard today, it was probably the only nice words you said today. The worn-out soles of your shoes hit the ground and you begin walking, just a few minutes away from home. Each leaf you stepped on getting more darker than the last, it was almost winter. That meant that after school clubs would be closed. Barely even any schools even have after school clubs in the area, since it’s Gotham. .
.
. After a call with your mother you slowed down, not really wanting to go home. It was quiet on the streets. Oh wait. 
Now it wasn’t. There was shouting, it sounded like two-or more-male voices. You see, there's a rule when you walk the Gotham streets. Do not, whatever you do, look. Just keep walking. And you do. Don’t look. Keep walking. 
Don’t look. Keep walking. 
Don’t look. Keep walking.
Don’t look. Keep walkin- . . . After the very obvious gunshot you heard a distant thud. 
Your feet stopped and your knees felt weak, bile rising in your throat as you stared wide eyes at the pavement in front of you. Don’t look. 
You beg yourself not to turn around. 
So you close your eyes, and beg yourself not to open them. . . . Small arms wrap around you as you lay in bed, your sister mumbling about something going on with her friends. The rest of your journey home was a blur, all you know is that you will not be going school tomorrow. Even if that means lying to your parents. . . .
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>>>>Pt.II
A/N: This is going to be a story based fic with some dark themes. Feel free to click off if any of it disturbs you in any way. I know there wasn’t much Damian in this but there will be more in pt 2! I always try to keep Reader as ambiguous as possible, this is a f!reader fic but you can read no matter what gender! :D Reblogs are always loved and as always Mev loves you!!
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terrifiedlimechime · 3 days
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okokok here we are again
the yapper opened her mouth quick get the ear plugs 🙄
so when I think of the stan twins I think of idyllic seaside area...about twenty minutes away because glass shard beach really lives up to its name, polluted and covered in beer bottles as well as sea glass
and the pawn shop, well, not a place for kids, but filbrick couldn't care less
man up boys it's time to learn how to haggle!
and although the stan twins have...a...relatively...interesting life (if selling overpriced junk is interesting to you)  filbrick decides that these kids have it way too good. off to the countryside, you pampered little-
well, gravity falls is a...remote place. so with a bottle of sunscreen and a boot up the ass the stans are off to take on gravity falls with grunkle dipper! (or grauntie mabel. im considering having dipper impersonate mabel. MAYBE.)
and dipper is HARSH to ford. like...real harsh. dipper liked all that science stuff when he was a kid, and where did that get him? running a shitty tourist attraction with a box of fake ids under his desk. (sad) ford stumbles into the forest, hits tree, the whole journal finding scene. and branded with a shooting star is a journal describing all the anomalies of gravity falls.
not a massive scientific document, rather a brief study and description of the different creatures, how to protect and slaughter some of the more dangerous (and/or wearable) kinds aswell as various garments inspired by them
the whole tourist trapped gnomes take mabel away thing is flipped to a large group of fairies taking stan (more love for stan please 🙏) to be their king, bla bla bla, fly swatter instead of leaf blower, swat swat that's it, good job guys
in the time travelers pig (possum..rat thing?) we see stan win shanklin by guessing how many fleas are on him (old fifteen 'er) while ford tries to impress fiddleford by winning him a gobblewonker plush (fmcg: "I don't know what that monstergamajig is...but I want it!")
then we meet.... BILL!
bill and gideon are swapped in this au, so bill is a human with his own telepathy tent, branded with a triangle and famed for its "mind tricks"
he never takes off that stupid triangular eyepatch...
dipper...well dipper hates him. "that little brat, always calling me pine tree, making fun of the shack"
and immediately, like gideon, bill is drawn to ford, flattery, "mysteries? haha I love them we should totally talk ab them",n stuff, yadayada
till bill tries to rizz him up asks him out on a date, the whole "omg I don't like him like that can't we be friends again" "no hes gon fall on love" stanley to stanford convo happens, stan breaks up w bill for ford, bill goes apeshit, uses a triangular amulet like gideons, basically what happens w gideon in the show him up asks him out on a date, the whole "omg I don't like him like that can't we be friends again" "no hes gon fall on love" stanley to stanford convo happens, stan breaks up w bill for ford, bill goes apeshit, uses a triangular amulet like gideons, basically what happens w gideon in the show
BUT (I over thought this reference way too much) when defeating bill, ford pretends to be on bills side, bill gives him the amulet and tells him to wipe his brothers mind, ford pretends to, stanley uppercuts bill in the face and ford breaks the amulet, all is saved
b: "CURSE YOU PINE TREE!!"
later in the series, more mysteries are solved, maybe candy/ grenda take the place of soos? idrk, stan and ford set up dipper with pacifica (bcuz i said so)
and guess who billy boo boo summons?
none other then gideon chaos-god gleeful!
the whole gideon-bill scene flipped (i like to think human bill is more confident then human gideon in it tho)  and bill and gideon make a deal (idk if i should js tweak gideons human design or make him his telepathy tent star) and instead of bills blind godly confidence and obvious flattery, gideon is all texas charm, the whole shabang
he invades stans mind for the mystery shack deeds, yadayada...
but there's something going on with grunkle dipper...
under the shack, by night dipper tries to fix the portal. the catwalk is in a wreck, and the portal is just about operational (he has a picture of the twins aswell as mabels perfume that she left in the house down there. its the same one she used as a teen and its the only thing that keeps him from falling apart on the bad days)
under the shack, by night dipper tries to fix the portal. the catwalk is in a wreck, and the portal is just about operational (he has a picture of the twins aswell as mabels perfume that she left in the house down there. its the same one she used as a teen and its the only thing that keeps him from falling apart on the bad days)
he's not what he seems.
(might write more, might fling myself off s cliff in the meantime)
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feathernotes · 1 day
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Alright Krispy, what is Ghost Junk Sickness actually about? You keep yelling about it- Tell us the deats!
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It's a comic about two bounty hunters with an unstable dynamic who are pushed to pursue the deadly and elusive bounty, The Ghost- it's about owning up and self acceptance- and it's queer AF ---> 🧵
We've got our first main player, Alphonse 'Trigger' Elliot, a Bi disaster man who uses a nickname to outrun his ex…well, both of his exes! Determined to run away from responsibility, he gets caught up in vicious bounty hunts and taking care of some strange super powered spiky haired amnesiac
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In comes Vahn- an overpowered burger loving enby who can't for the life of them remember what really happened 5 years ago- during the apocalypse of course. They're drawn to finding out who that big scary Ghost is, and hey, looks like they pick up a few romance options along the way!
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and BUSTIN' DOWN THE DOORS is Boggmouth, Triggers infamous ex- On the hunt for money, fame, and a great pizza place. She gets swept up in this whole Ghost fiasco after catching up with Trigger on a super dangerous hunt to prove a point: Own up to past mistakes or take the L. And boy did Trigger lose
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With those three together, navigating the treacherous landscapes of the post apocalyptic-recovering June7, trying to own up to their past, and forge a new future- They encounter many MANY scary and odd things while on the hunt for the ghost. Mainly this guy…. being… horror?
Meet The Medium!
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The Medium strikes a deal and is also on a war path to get that damned ghost. Why? Well lets just say its a tad embarrassing for an eldritch god to admit!
Together with a pretty confused 4 armed himbo, The Medium and Nowe make their way to get what they want- While avoiding the General, of course
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General Raine Fiachra, the Space French Lady who hails from the prosperous galactic capital planet July, wants all of the prize- and that includes traversing several different universes to claim it. She's interested in the Medium, and Nowe is so annoyingly in her way! We love mean ladies
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With this soup of a cast makes a rather roller coaster of a ride for the story of GJS. Trigger owning up to his mistakes, Vahn discovering who they are, Boggs getting closure- and of course, catching that damned bounty The Ghost! What galactic crimes has he commited to earn such a bounty on his head
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GJS is a story about self acceptance- all of the parts of you that feel unloved, messy, and want to avoid. It's a story crafted about characters in impossible situations just trying to get by, and what it means to move on from hurt.
it's about bounty hunters, ghosts, and love!
You can read it here
You can get the WHOLE set of books on kickstarter right meow, HERE
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chevelleneech · 2 days
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Are You Sure? - Ep8
Here are my thoughts now that I finally watched the episode (I was at work all day, anon, lol).
I honestly don’t have too too many, because my main takeaway was that they seemed to have truly needed these trips together. They knew by Jeju they’d be enlisting together, so I feel like any thoughts I had about the trips being a sort of last hurrah before potentially being separated go out the window.
They knew they’d be together, so barring them being romantically involved in some way… I kind of don’t get the point of the series.
Had this been a special involving other members, then it being work related would make sense. Had this been more like the Jeju episodes where they weren’t as laid back, I’d get it, but it wasn’t. Five out of eight episodes focused on them not doing much else other than simply spending time together. Sight seeing and going out to eat, with a sprinkle of activities. We saw them shopping for food and driving more than anything else, but for some reason they both still say the whole experience and filming of the series was the best thing they’ve gotten to do.
That to me, and I say this with full honesty, does not make sense to me, if they’re strictly platonic. I don’t know, episode eight sees them putting a certain level of importance on these trips that many antis wanted to rip away, and surely they knew that. They know what people think about them in their own fandom, both for the better and the worse, and they didn’t care. Which, good for them.
Moving away from my confusion in an attempt to find another explanation, I also think their joint melancholy about having to leave triggered the dropping of their guards a little bit. Add that to them drinking some, and their whole reaction moment felt almost intrusive to see, lol. They kept gravitating toward each other the entire time, only for the editors to skip to them sitting back up with more space between them. Nevermind the footsie and Jimin walking by the room they were shown going to bed in, when he said he was going to wake JK up.
So unless Jungkook was already up and in the shower or something, which they conveniently didn’t mention despite doing it every other time… they either didn’t sleep in the room with the camera or JK moved rooms. But again, given they gave us updates about every other sleeping arrangement or change, why would their last night be different if nothing happened? (By “nothing” I genuinely mean I think they moved to a different room without a camera, likely to talk or simply be closer. Not necessarily sex, because again, I don’t see them going there with a house full of staff.)
Pure speculation of course, lol, but yeah. Those moments made me feel a little like, okay, they did this with the intent of making memories. They may have wanted to cement who they are to each other in this moment, because no matter how optimistic they were that things wouldn’t change and their friendship would be solid, no one can predict the future.
Couple that with them both starting Ep1 saying they hadn’t seen each other and Jimin not being sure (no pun intended) the trip was a good idea in the first place, to them ending Ep8 saying they didn’t want it to be over and spent the last few days happy… it’s a big deal, I think. Especially with how many times they spent their last day in Sapporo taking about how romantic and pretty everything was.
Per the words from their own mouths, they created a small, romantic, nice, and happy bubble they didn’t want to leave, and I love that for them. They got to be happy and cared for by one another, and want to spend many more years to come doing the same thing. I hope they get that.
Oh and final thought… I want that house! Their final Sapporo house was beautiful, as was the town. It felt like a holiday special!
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LOTR Newsletter - September 19
So, what’s happening in the summer before Frodo’s departure?
On June 20th, Sauron attacks Osgiliath; at around the same time, he sends Orcs to attack Thranduil, and Gollum escapes.
From Unfinished Tales, "The Hunt for the Ring":
Now Sauron learning of the capture of Gollum by the chiefs of his enemies was in great haste and fear. Yet all his ordinary spies and emissaries could bring him no tidings. And this was due largely to the vigilance of the Dúnedain and to the treachery of Saruman, whose own servants either waylaid or misled the servants of Sauron. Of this Sauron became aware, but his arm was not yet long enough to reach Saruman in Isengard. Therefore he hid his knowledge of Saruman’s double-dealing and concealed his wrath, biding his time, and preparing for the great war in which he planned to sweep all his enemies into the western sea. At length he resolved that no others would serve him in this case but his mightiest servants, the Ringwraiths, who had no will but his own, being each utterly subservient to the ring that had enslaved him, which Sauron held.   Now few could withstand even one of these fell creatures, and (as Sauron deemed) none could withstand them when gathered together under their terrible captain, the Lord of Morgul. Yet this weakness they had for Sauron’s present purpose: so great was the terror that went with them (even invisible and unclad) that their coming forth might soon be perceived and their mission be guessed by the Wise. So it was that Sauron prepared two strokes – in which many after saw the beginnings of the War of the Ring. They were made together. The Orcs assailed the realm of Thranduil, with orders to recapture Gollum; and the Lord of Morgul was sent forth openly to battle against Gondor. These things were done towards the end of June 3018. Thus Sauron tested the strength and preparedness of Denethor, and found them to be more than he had hoped. That troubled him little, since he had used little force in the assault, and his chief purpose was that the coming forth of the Nazgûl should appear only as part of his policy of war against Gondor. Therefore when Osgiliath was taken and the bridge broken Sauron stayed the assault, and the Nazgûl were ordered to begin the search for the Ring.
Elsewhere the same chapter says:
In the panic of the first assault, when the Witch-king was allowed to reveal himself briefly in his full terror, the Nazgûl crossed the bridge at night and dispersed northwards. Without belittling the valour of Gondor, which indeed Sauron found greater far than he had hoped, it is clear that Boromir and Faramir were able to drive back the enemy and destroy the bridge, only because the attack had now served its main purpose.
And here is Boromir's description of the battle from "The Council of Elrond":
“But this very year, in the days of June, sudden war came upon us out of Mordor, and we were swept away. We were outnumbered, for Mordor has allied itself with the Easterlings and cruel Haradrim; but it was not by numbers we were defeated. A power was there that we have not felt before. “Some said that it could be seen, like a great black horseman, a dark shadow under the moon. Wherever he came a madness filled our foes, but fear fell on our boldest, so that horse and man gave way and fled. Only a remnant of our eastern force came back, destroying the last bridge that still stood amid the ruins of Osgiliath. “I was in the company that held the bridge, until it was cast down behind us. Four only were saved by swimming: my brother and myself and two others…. “…on the eve of the sudden assault a dream came to my brother in a troubled sleep; and afterwards a like dream came oft to him again, and once to me. In that dream I thought the eastern sky grew dark and there was a growing thunder, but in the West a pale light lingered, and out of it I heard a voice, remote but clear, crying: [He then describes the riddle/poem Seek for the sword that was broken]”
(Something I hadn't considered before: Who do you think sent the dream? My guess is one of the Valar, probably Irmo (Lórien).)
A little after, on July 4, Boromir sets out for Minas Tirith, though Faramir was clearly preferred by the sender of the dream.
At the end of June, Gandalf has a sense of foreboding, but does not yet know of the attack; this is what causes him to say tell Frodo, "I am going down beyond the southern borders to get some news, if I can." (He has not heard of the escape of Gollum, as he learns that from Gwaihir during his escape from Orthanc.) As he later tells the Council of Elrond:
“At the end of June I was in the Shire, but a cloud of anxiety was on my mind, and I rode to the southern borders of the little land; for I had a foreboding of some danger, still hidden from me but drawing near. There messages reached me telling me of war and defeat in Gondor, and when I heard of the Black Shadow a chill smote my heart. But I found nothing save a few fugitives from the South; yet it seemed to me that on them sat a fear of which they would not speak. I turned then east and north and journeyed along the Greenway; and not far from Bree I came upon a traveller sitting on a bank beside the road with his grazing horse beside him. It was Radagast the Brown...”
Radagast tells Gandalf that the Nine Ringwraiths have crossed to the west side of the Anduin River in secret, as riders in black, and are riding west, and looking for a land called "Shire". He says Gandalf that Saruman says for Gandalf to come to him immediately if he wants help.
Gandalf tells the Council of Elrond:
“I could not follow him then and there. I had ridden very far already that day, and I was as weary as my horse; and I needed to consider matters. I stayed the night in Bree, and decided that I had no time to return to the Shire. Never did I make a greater mistake! “However, I wrote a message to Frodo, and trusted to my friend the innkeeper to send it to him. I rode away at dawn.”
This is one of the most pivotal moments determining how things go in The Lord of the Rings! If Gandalf had taken one day to ride back to the Shire and warn Frodo to depart immediately, or if Butterbur had remembered to send the letter, then Frodo would have set out in early July, not late September, and reached Rivendell by the road before the end of summer, long before the Ringwraiths reached the Shire. Instead, Gandalf reaches Isengard and is taken captive by Saruman on July 10th, and remains captive until September 18th. Gandalf says:
“Fear was ever in my heart for my friends in the Shire; but still I had some hope. I hoped that Frodo had set forth at once, as my letter had urged, and that he had reached Rivendell before the deadly pursuit began. And both my fear and my hope proved ill-founded. For my hope was founded on a fat man in Bree; and my fear was founded on the cunning of Sauron. But fat men who sell ale have many calls to answer; and the power of Sauron is still less than fear makes it. But in the circle of Isengard, trapped and alone, it was not easy to think that the hunters before whom all have fled or fallen would falter in the Shire far away.”
So why did they falter? And if the Ringwraiths were out of Mordor by late June, why did it take them 3 months to get to the Shire? This is one of the big things that "The Hunt for the Ring" explains.
The Ringwraiths did not know where the Shire was! Gollum, obsessed with the Ring, had managed to lie even to Sauron under torture, and pretend that he thought the Shire was in Wilderland (between the Misty Mountains and Mirkwood), in the area of the Gladden Fields where he had dwelt in his youth. The Ringwraiths went there first, and moving in secret, they only got north of Rohan (The Field of Celebrant) by July 22nd, and then spent much of the summer searching further north to the Gladden Fields and beyond. From "The Hunt for the Ring":
Version A About the twenty-second of July they [the six Ringwraiths of Minas Morgul] met their companions, the Nazgûl of Dol Guldur, in the Field of Celebrant. There they learned that Gollum had eluded both the Orcs that recaptured him, and the Elves that pursued him, and had vanished. [Footnote: He had indeed in his terror of the Nazgûl dared to hide in Moria.]  They were also told by Khamûl that no dwelling of Halflings could be discovered in the Vales of Anduin, and that the villages of the Stoors by the Gladden had long been deserted. But the Lord of Morgul, seeing no better counsel, determined still to seek northward, hoping maybe to come upon Gollum as well as to discover the Shire. That this would prove to be not far from the hated land of Lórien seemed to him not unlikely, if it was not indeed within the fences of Galadriel. But the power of the White Ring he would not defy, nor enter yet into Lórien. Passing therefore between Lórien and the Mountains the Nine rode ever on into the North; and terror went before them and lingered behind them; but they did not find what they sought nor learn any news that availed them. At length they returned; but the summer was now far waned. Version B The account of the vain journey of the Nazgûl up the Vales of Anduin is much the same in version B as that printed in full above (A), but with the difference that in B the Stoor settlements were not entirely deserted at that time; and such of the Stoors as dwelt there were slain or driven away by the Nazgûl. In all the texts the precise dates are slightly at variance both with each other and with those given in the Tale of Years; these differences are here neglected.
By early September, Sauron is very worried and angry indeed; if he was in a Bond movie or the like, he'd be saying "Why am I surrounded by idiots!?"
The wrath and fear of Sauron was mounting. When they [the Ringwraiths] came back to the Wold September had come; and there they met messengers from Barad-dûr conveying threats from their Master that filled even the Morgul-lord with dismay. For Sauron had now learned of the words of prophecy heard in Gondor, and the going forth of Boromir [July 4], of Saruman’s deeds, and the capture of Gandalf [July 10]. From these things he concluded indeed that neither Saruman nor any other the Wise had possession yet of the Ring, but that Saruman at least knew where it might be hidden. Speed alone would now serve, and secrecy must be abandoned. The Ringwraiths were therefore ordered to go straight to Isengard. They rode through Rohan in haste, and the terror of their passing was so great that many folk fled from the land and went wildly away north and west, believing that war out of the East was coming on the heels of the black horses.
So in short, the Nazgul spent most of July and August on a wild-goose-chase thanks to bad information from Gollum. He's a resilient little guy, you got to give him that.
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