#I've alarmed myself with how much I want this just for the ridiculousness of it

[raeofalbion]

Okay, Lies of P, you've caught me. Soulslike Holmes when? 👀

#Lies of P #easter eggs #Sherlock Holmes #I wanna see that skinny nerd try to lift a sword twice his size; I genuinely do #what would Moriarty's second phase be? how sad and dramatic would the music be?? #I've alarmed myself with how much I want this just for the ridiculousness of it

[imgae-insertshockedgasps-16]

humans are space orcs

imagine someone with chronic joint pain, whose dream their whole lives has been to go to space and meet the aliens and be a scientist and learn

so they look up the requirements as a kid and go "fuck."

they wouldn't make the cut.

their dreams are dashed. hopes ruined. lifelong dre destroyed.

except....

they've never really said a whole lot about their pain. they don't particularly like doctors, and they think that they've been managing just fine, so they never saw the point.

so maybe... maybe if they just don't say anything, they can make it to space.

they spend all of their time training. doing physical therapy exercises so that their joints aren't so loose, soaking up as much scientific and mathematical knowledge as they can, teaching themselves to push through the worst of it in pursuit of their dream.

and they make it.

they make it to space! it was gruelling, tortuous work, but they made it!

their first mission is an exploratory one, with a diverse crew which only has one other human.

they're thrilled.

they have dozens of alien friends and acquaintances. they spend hours learning and researching alien planets and cultures. it's everything they've ever wanted!

but

it's exhausting.

they're in more pain than they've ever been, more frequently than they ever have.

they keep up their exercises as best they can, but even those are often too much.

they smile when asked if they're alright, tell everyone that "i'm fine! just tired."

but they need a break. they can't imagine going or being sent back to earth, this is their home now, with these people, on this ship. but they don't know how much longer they can take this.

one day, on their day off, a fellow researcher comes and knocks on their door.

"are you here?"

"not today islith."

"but we've been called! there are some exciting new discoveries that need further cataloging and investigation, and carlmoth thought you would enjoy the task!"

"i can't today, islith."

"are you ill?"

"...kind of? but i'll be right as rain tomorrow. it's my day off anyhow."

"nonsense! you should go down to medbay!"

"i'm alright, i promise."

"you get out here right this minute or i'll report you to medbay myself!"

"no!" there's a series of crashes and thumps, and then they open the door.

"oh, you look awful. come on, you really must need medbay, what if you're contagious." islith tries to grab them but they shy away.

"i'm not contagious, i promise."

"how can you possibly know that? what if you picked it up from a sample, or, or, garfon has been sick recently! humans can't survive cerian sicknesses-"

"i didn't catch something from garfon, islith," they sigh and open the door wider. "come in and let me explain."

"alright, but if i think you should go to medbay afterwards then i'm taking you there."

"sure, islith."

islith enters, notices the piles of clothes, rumpled bedsheets, the lights are off and the port window shut.

"what's wrong?"

they sigh again, "my body doesn't work like it's meant to, islith."

islith is wildly alarmed, "and you said there was no need for medbay?!? come with me right now and-"

"no! i can't, islith, you don't understand."

"then explain it to me."

"i've... always been this way, although it's gotten worse as i've gotten older. my body, it just isn't built quite right, there's something wrong with it that makes it not work properly and hurt often."

"you're right, i don't understand. why can't you go to medbay?"

"i'd... be thrown off the ship."

"what?!?"

and so they tell islith a story about a young child whose dream was to touch the stars.

"and now, it's too late. i'd get in huge trouble for lying to the government, especially for so long."

"well- but- but humans are so resilient! you hear all the stories!"

"not every human is the same, islith. some of us are born disabled, and some of us get hurt in accidents, just like any other species."

"well, then, well there must be something we can do?"

they look up in shock, "we?"

"of course we, you ridiculous creature," islith said with a fond sigh. "you didn't think i'd leave you to suffer, would you?"

"but, you could get in so much trouble!"

"that's alright, i don't mind. what else are friends for? and, anyway, we don't have to tell your government, we can tell mine."

"but i'll-"

"we don't have any rules like that. any of us who are disabled can still manage in space just fine with the right support, and i bet you could too."

"i- islith- i don't-"

"don't worry, we'll all back you when it comes down to it. you're out teammate, our family. no one on this ship wants to watch you leave because of something you can't control. now come on, let's talk to glidlep in medical, she'll understand."

and for years, things continued on that way, until eventually it was an open secret that the human with the exosuit was disabled and not technically allowed onboard.

and down the line, when nasa found out and was furious, the entire ship and more stood by their side.

#anyway i need to go cry now #humans are space orcs #humans are weird #humans are deathworlders #humans are space australians #disabled #disability #disability in space #chronic pain #chronic illness #chronically ill #joint pain

[my-mt-heart]

Where's Daryl?

This was very difficult to write. It opened up a lot of old wounds for me, so if you read this, thank you. If my thoughts on this show haven’t been your cup of tea, that’ll most definitely be the case here as well, so maybe just move along. ***Trigger warning for discussion of childhood abuse***

For about a year and a half, Caryl fans asked Where's Carol? as a pointed reminder that the spinoff was always meant to be hers just as much as it was Daryl’s. Even though she's back now, her fans didn't always know she would be (nor did the EP's 🙄) so her absence during filming and promotion of the first season was a heavy burden to bear. The irony is, though “Daryl Dixon” sticks out like a sore thumb in that ridiculous font, he's the one who feels absent sometimes, as if important parts of his character development were lost when he washed ashore while other parts come and go as the plot demands.

Zabel talks about swapping Daryl's iconic vest for "old man" suspenders as a matter of pragmaticism i.e. they were the only clean clothes available. Norman says it was a choice he wanted for some unclear reason, but neither of them seem to consider the intelligence of their audience, particularly Carylers, to see it more symbolically. The costume change is our visual reminder that Daryl isn't himself. In some scenes he's chattier than he should be, far more trusting of strangers with personal details, and far more theatrical. Then in others, the differences are even more alarming. He calls a child cruel names, puts his hands on him, and feels conflicted about returning home to his family, to the woman he said he loved.

I mentally prepared myself for retcons, but the one I'm struggling with a lot right now, which I haven't seen anyone bring up yet, is the retcon of Daryl’s childhood abuse. Daryl tells Isabelle that he and Merle had to take apart engines and if they couldn't put them back together, their dad wouldn't let them have dinner. It's a milder version of the stories the scars on his back tell us, though I can buy Daryl omitting the worst of it like he did in the pilot. What I can't buy is Daryl saying his dad was "hardly ever" around and emphasizing it as the main source of his pain growing up. It feels contradictory for one thing. When we see Daryl's scars for the first time in S3 of the flagship show, it's implied Daryl was trapped in an environment that enabled his dad to physically hurt him often. Presumably that's why Merle felt guilty about leaving him behind. The revelation also seems like it's only intended to highlight the consequences of an absent father figure, explaining Daryl's fear of not making it home, but also justifying his "close" bond with Laurent. The best stories allow a character's emotions to drive the plot, but this just does the opposite, twisting Daryl's backstory to fit the current narrative.

Daryl's backstory made so many people root for him in the first place. It allowed Carol to see him when nobody else in the group could. It helped me process my own childhood trauma. The ways I got to watch him overcome his violent past gave me hope that masculinity could mean more than what I grew up around—more than anger, shouting, and swinging fists. Daryl taught me that men could still be tender, kind, and loving even if those closest to them in their childhood never showed them how. I imagine Daryl's representation has been important to boys and men too, specifically to those who were afraid to speak up about their abuse because of the stigma around it. The implications of this scene may not be easily noticeable to some, but they are to me, and I'm deeply offended by it.

I’ve talked at length on this blog about how it takes a village to make or break a show, though it’s usually the showrunner who has to answer for it. I've already mentioned that I do blame Zabel. His knowledge of French history has no value when he obviously didn’t bother to study Daryl’s history aside from reading old scripts and (maybe) watching the first couple seasons. That's incredibly irresponsible and terrifying for S2. I also blame AMC for their short-sightedness and their determination to save face no matter how much it costs them. I blame Gimple for his pettiness. I blame Greg Nicotero for his insensitivity to Melissa and her fans.

As for Norman, he's hinted very loudly that he wants credit for the show being "different," so in theory he should be prepared to take some of the blame too. I can't name all of the decisions he specifically made, but no matter what they were, I can blame him for not speaking up about the shipbaiting, Daryl's wavering loyalty, and the childhood abuse retcon, all things that hurt his character and hurt the fans. I genuinely don't know what else to think other than Norman didn't give either the consideration they deserve. The show has been treated like nothing more than a vanity project, and it’s unfortunate when you think about what he and AMC had to gain from the original Caryl spinoff.

I love the version of Daryl I knew before this whole mess, I love Carol, and I love the relationship between them. I want them to have the story they deserve in S2. At the moment, I don’t know how to reconcile that with the agony I feel over the damages to half of my two favorite characters. If Carol is going to cross the Atlantic ocean to find Daryl, I want him to be the man who threatened to punch holes in all the boats so she couldn’t leave and the man who told her he loved her before—ironically—leaving himself. I need to hear Daryl admit he hasn't been completely honest with the French characters, not because he was afraid of getting too close to them, but because he didn't want to face the pain of potentially living without Carol and TF. I need to hear him say that he can't be Laurent's father, which is okay because the kid has plenty of other family to take care of him. I need to hear him say, out loud, that he could never love another woman romantically because he's already in love with Carol. That's what I need to feel better about this story. That's where my investment is. I feel like Carol is safe in Melissa's hands, but I don't feel like I have anyone to rely on for Daryl. That’s a big problem because their stories are so intertwined. There’s no Daryl without Carol nor Carol without Daryl. If you ruin one of them, you risk ruining both of them, and that’s a possibility I really can’t bear.

#caryl #carol peletier #melissa mcbride #darylneedscarol #the book of carol #twd caryl

[rotationalsymmetry]

A Spoonful of Sugar

I'm a teenager. It's a school day and my alarm just went off. 20 minutes later one of my parents sticks their head in my room to complain that I'm not up yet.

I'm a kid, not sure what age exactly. My dad comes in and pretends to be a dog to wake me up. (This has happened many times. He does it with the exact same phrasing and intonation and pretty much the same set of behaviors each time. Probably got it from a parenting book or something.) Kid-me finds this hilarious and an excellent way to start the day.

I'm an adult, early to mid 20's, with a group of other mostly young people in New Orleans post-Katrina, to tear down houses contaminated with black mold at the request of their owners (mostly black people) so that even if they don't have a house any more at least they own the land. If we don't do this, the city will hire people to do it at the owners' expenses and seize the property (ie the now vacant lot) if the owners don't pay it back. Anyways, point is, someone comes around with a guitar and a song when it's time to wake up.

I'm thinking about all the things parents of babies and toddlers and otherwise very young children do to cajole them into doing things. Stickers and little prizes. Oh, you aren't sure you want to eat that? What if the spoon was an airplane flying around, what then? Which toothbrush do you want to use, the red one or the blue one? (I loved getting to choose my school supplies, what cartoon characters the pencils had on them, the erasers shaped like fruit that didn't really erase, all that.) Bedtime routines. Bath toys.

Little kids are still young enough to make it everyone else's problem when they're forced to do something they don't want. So, everyone else finds ways to make it so that it isn't being forced, so that the kid wants whatever has to happen. Gummy vitamins. Chicken nuggets shaped like dinosaurs.

But adults, teens, older kids, have enough self control for that fight to be strictly internal, and often when other people stop cajoling us into doing what's best for us we don't pick up the slack ourselves, we push instead of finding ways to pull. And one thing I love about this site is the genre of posts that are about finding ways to get yourself to want to go into the carrier.

I've been pretending I'm in ninja training while brushing my teeth. Do not ask me how tooth-brushing prepares me to be a ninja. I got the idea to stick though. I've been using mnemonics -- ridiculous association mind games -- to practice remembering people's names, something I've always been bad at to my embarrassement. I have so many things I don't really want to do but that I think I should do. Sometimes it's not fun silly stuff, sometimes it's more sort of stoic reframing, like "ok I'm dreading this doctor's appointment because I'm telling myself it'll be frustrating and a waste of time, I can't make sure it's not a waste of time but there is some chance it won't be a waste of time and if so then showing up is doing the right thing, and I can make sure that I show up" (and so I give myself a good grade in showing up to a doctor's appointment, something that may or may not be normal to want but is in fact possible to achieve as long as you're doing the grading yourself, or can convince someone else to do it for you.)

I'm trying to notice intrinsic joy more. Taking a shower feels good so I get free "reward" as long as I'm noticing that it feels good. Physically moving my body, stretching and using my muscles, at least some of the time, feels good. Resting can feel good. Routines like having tea in the morning feel good and give me something to look forward to and some sort of continuity in my life, predictability. This feels good. This feels good. This feels good. This feels good.

#I'm two hours overdue for my first rest #I could give myself a bad grade in self care #but I also don't have to because I am the grader #I can do a narrative evaluation #I can cut myself some slack #I can give myself a bad grade but get excited about the challenge of working up to a good grade #I can give myself a bad grade and treat that as neutral information that has nothing to do with what kind of person I am #I can give the thing I was trying to do a bad grade bc hey maybe this approach isn't working for me #it is my responsibility and my obligation to decide what the best way is to handle this I am not answerable to anyone else

[youcantryithomie]

Ok Honesty Hour

I like reading Astrology posts because they help me fall asleep, I don't know why, I've just pavloved myself into slumber when I read those silly little pacs and 'venus in the 8th house' posts.

It's also fun because I enjoy reading other people's perspectives on things, it's interesting even though I do not prescribe to it at all. But, there's some truly gross shit in some of these posts that surprise me.

Let's say, hypothetically, I, and everyone that writes astrology observations, TRULY believed in astrology and what the alignment of the planets have to say about personality, the future, the past and the physical body. Ignoring the obvious incongruencies within astrology, I still have a big problem with a few aspects. Mainly regarding:

Health! Astrologers are not practitioners of health, and should not be insisting that some people are prone to heart problems or foot problems. That is a wild purview to have over someone and can be dangerous depending on how much someone believes in astrology!

Themes of sexual assault, abuse, manipulation etc. The Idea that 'some signs are more prone to raping someone' is an awful idea to put in someone's head, that they're somehow more capable of doing that to another person just because of the planetary alignment at birth. And how do these true believers treat a person with these placements after they get a hold of their chart? It's alarming.

Gender Essentialism- This is a big one- Gender essentialism is so deeply ingrained in astrology that it's hard to not tell yall to let it go without telling yall to stop doing astrology all together. This idea that women are Venus and men are Mars and women can only look for husbands and men can only look for wives and the separation between the two is ridiculous. There CAN be feminine and masculine themes, but there is almost no recognition that women can be masculine and men can be feminine, women can look for women and men can look for men. (And not to talk about NB peeps or genderqueer folk ETC)

To go even further, there has been an uptick of posts about how women are only suited for softness, for being wives and having babies and being the perfect one for their hard working husband and junk. the divine feminine, the blood purity of a woman on her period. etc. All of this leads to DANGEROUS ideas and should be nipped in the bud asap! it leads to TERF ideas, it leads to people being complacent about laws taking away agency and human rights. ETC!

So, someone who truly (or even slightly) believes in astrology might fall victim to horrible TERF ideas and end up harming others by reading these ideas over and over again. It should stop.

I can include so many other petpeeves here, but those are my main gripes. Of course, bloggers and claim this is just entertainment, that the whole chart is needed to make an assessment, but these bloggers are also putting out dangerous ideas that can propagate into something more depending on how much someone leans into astrology.

So, seriously, cut it out with the health matters. Cut it out with the SA claims and other things (if you wouldn't want to be accused of such things, why accuse someone else??) and PLEASE take a look at how yall are using and describing gender. Please resist TERF ideas.

I hope yall have fun, I'll probably read more Astrology tonight and hope it gets a little better come the next transit.

#astrology #astro observations #astro community #aries #taurus #gemini #cancer #leo #etc. etc. #yall know the rest #dont be a TERF yall

[etirabys]

maui night 3

No amusing drama to report today. I snorkeled with the giant, moved onto my fourth Stephen King book in four days, and had a three course meal at an amazing restaurant where I kept drifting away from reality. I've been spending so much time reading fiction that I feel like a kid again. I'm half in another world.

My parents are wealthy, and I'm indefinitely unemployed. Occasionally I wonder how these things will collide near the end of their lives. Just once, my dad tried to use the potential inheritance as the carrot to get me to do something that I didn't want to do, and I told him he wouldn't get me that way. It was true, in part because I discovered it was true and in part because I willed it to be true. He was hurt by this, although I was trying to communicate something complicatedly loving – that I wasn't holding up my end of our frayed relationship for the money. I think there's a good chance I won't see any inheritance, and when I simulate that, there's an amputated stump where an emotional reaction might reside. I imagine my sister calling me and saying "they left it all to me" or "they left it all to the church" and I just shrug, blank. Who knows if that'll be how I feel if it really happens. Greed is a potent transformative force.

My parents were poor in different ways in a poor country, and one thing I have never doubted in my comfortable life is that money matters. I found lucrative employment out of college, and then disappointed myself by not taking the common-in-my-social-circle pledge to donate 10% of my income to the charities estimated to decrease the most suffering per dollar. I increasingly needed Ritalin to defend myself from indifference to all tasks, and Ritalin increasingly made me sick. I told myself I'd take the pledge if my employment felt stable. It never did, so I never have.

I know I'm not giving back what I should. There's a moral dislocation in me because I don't donate, an alarm that has not stopped going off in a room down the hallway. But I'm more selfish and afraid than I am moral. I check my bank account and recalculate years of runway. I anticipate catastrophic medical bills, divorce, having severely disabled children. I'm afraid of losing luxuries I'm accustomed to – buying e-books without pausing to think about it, getting to be the chill guy who says "don't worry about it" when people break my stuff, traveling, takeout.

This is an odd little pyramid of priorities. I care more about having money than I care about satisfying one of my more persistent imperatives to be a good person. But apparently, more than either of those things, I care about having an emotionally authentic relationship with my parents. This absolutely amazes me, because the emotionally authentic relationship I have with them is dogshit. I draw boundaries they think are ridiculous and guard them like a rabid animal, I don't make a strong effort to hide my contempt or amusement when they do something that elicits it, and I share almost nothing about my interior life with them.

What exactly am I trying to do here? I value money and I'm not shy to myself about it. Why not be nicer and hope for payoff? Why this spectacular irrationality? One answer is that it threatens my independence. I want them to have no say over my important life decisions. The other answer is that I'm not a daughter that makes them happy to have, but using them would not just make me a displeasing one – it would make me a bad one.

(The answer to 'why not just be nice for its own sake?' is that I hate them and don't want to be nice. During the occasional interactions that get nasty, these days, I keep my cool largely because I'm buoyed by the hope that this might be the fight that's bad enough to justify breaking off the relationship for good.)

I'm bleakly amused at the ranking that falls out of my revealed preference:

not being nice to people I hate > filial piety > material greed > morality

#rambl #// family #2022mauivisit #i mean i do try to be nice. i'm going to try to have a pleasant shopping outing with them today and buy them gifts #but – the well it comes out of is not very deep #they make comments and i hulk out

[hootsifer-darling]

Gonna get personal for a sec, I've been in a car for 7< hours and the mind does wander. I'm just thinking about how, for the one summer I stayed with him after turning 18, my dad was pathologically incapable of just letting me exist and do my own thing. Every decision I made was questioned and commentated on, down to going outside for my nightly before bed walk. "Really, are you sure you need to do that? Why? oookayy I guess." I was put through the wringer just asking for the house security codes so alarms wouldn't start screaming if I so much as walked down the stairs (there were door alarms and movement sensors on the first floor, and later cameras were installed literally everywhere, it was insane. Not outside btw, inside, explicity for monitoring US). I had to ask for those codes btw, they weren't offered up as being part of the household; he wanted us caged and monitored, and anything I ever asked for was treated as some huge imposition.

Then there was the time I sprained my ankle at an open gym and wanted to call out of work and he treated that like the most insane propostion ever. 'No you can't call out of work?? Your ankle is fine don't be ridiculous.' And after I called out boy did he lay on the passive aggression. 'You really shouldn't have done that, your bosses will be so let down, etc.' Anyway I limped up and down the stairs to get all my food for several days. Every day he was like 'ankle still bother you huh,' so incredulous like I was faking it out of laziness.

Oh and then there was the whole thing where I was forced to conform to their 5/6 am wakeup schedule, which I fucking did for over a month. I would zombie walk downstairs, have some cereal, and then camp on the couch and watch TV with headphones on my computer, present and unobtrusive. I found a way to do something my body and brain was wired not to and even found some joy in the routine. But even that wasn't enough, eventually the demands started that I lose the TV and "participate" with the family, despite the fact that they were basically all doing the same thing. God forbid I did something he wanted on my own terms.

So anyway that was around the halfway point of the summer and although I couldn't put my finger on what it was I started to notice I was being forced to do an awful lot of stuff I didn't want to and was actively impeding my enjoyment of day to day life. So I started sleeping in, letting my body do its thing. I was forcibly awakened a few times by various means, the most sinister of which was turning "wake Adam up" into a game for the 7 and 3 year olds for about a week before he finally accepted defeat on that particular battle. Maybe I started locking my door idk.

Anyway things got progressively worse over the next month as I started planting my feet on various things I felt didn't make sense, and as it turns out questioning a narcassist's authority is a fast-track to getting kicked out for being disrespectful lol. Not gonna go into that whole day but after that I finally decided that being there made me feel bad and I should probably leave. I didn't even start unpacking the events of that summer for two years. I had to quit the job I'd been at for about 3 months which was a very embarassing and stressful thing to do for the first job I'd ever had, but I said my "home situation wasn't working" and the managers all understood and one even told me very earnestly "go be happy Adam" which remains one of the most profoundly kind things anyone has ever said to me.

My dad's favorite thing to say ever since moving to Florida was always "well you can always come live with us" (a fucked up thing to say to the pre teens you abandoned), but when I finally gave it a try boy did he make sure it was so miserable that it only lasted 4 months and none of us ever tried it again.

But to end this on a more positive note I'm really proud of myself for deciding to leave even though in the moment I wasn't sure why I was so unhappy, I just knew that I was and that I could leave, so I did, and I think that was pretty huge of me. And also pretty metal to pin my resignation on him: "sorry I have to quit, I tried living with my dad and it's just not working." Considering he made me cry on the way to my interview for said job I think it was only fair.

#that was more than a sec lol #turned into a bit of a rant #I think this is gonna go on the sideblog actually #personal #rants #cw: trauma dump

[spacecadetspe]

A snippet from last year...

Mar. 30, 2023

Phobetor checked in on me yesterday afternoon.  He's such a love.  He asked if I had eaten or bathed, or indulged in self-care lately, and I confessed that I hadn't had much of a mind to do any of the above.

He paused before asking why not, as if it were a carefully curated question and not the obvious demand of someone who genuinely cares.  I don't know how he does that, but it keeps me vulnerable and self-aware, and I enjoy it.  Maybe a little too much.  I'll get into that later.

I was planning on at least taking a nap after a rigorous therapy session.  L seems to think I'm grieving (duh, kind of), but mentioned that the parties I'm grieving over don't really feel the same.  K especially doesn't seem to have the same emotional attachment to this as I did.  L said something to the effect that I gave my whole self, my whole trust, genuinely, whereas I was just another person K had to keep at arms' reach.  She doesn't trust anyone with herself or her feelings, and that perpetually keeps her from making deep, meaningful bonds.  And that sucks because I know now that my bond was entirely one-sided.

Emotionally drained and ready to cry again, I undressed myself, thinking about Phobetor's question.

"I guess... I'm still on the fence about whether I deserve love or not."

He could have said it was silly or ridiculous, and that of course I deserved love... but he didn't.  Instead, he asked what my hesitation was.

"I'm worried that I'm forcing people into something they don't want."

"Like Zeus."

I nodded.  "I'm worried about bouncing from consort to consort... feeling guilty about using people and being generally transient in my relationships."

"Are you using me?" he asked evenly.

I shrugged.  "I mean... the obvious answer is that I'm not, and that I love you... but even the question brings up feelings of guilt.  Because, while I don't want to be like that... be like him... and I don't want to hurt the people I really care about... there's a history there."

He hummed and watched me get undressed.  "A history, hm?  You do know history is just that," he said.  "I've watched you change at an astounding, even alarming rate.  You're a different person, a stronger person, every week."  He tapped his fingers on my bedspread.  "But I think you're more worried about whether or not I  want this."

I nodded.

He cocked his head at me, and I fidgeted, naked, in front of my closet.  Then he said something that surprised me.  "Get into bed."  A command.  How brazen!

But I did so, and pulled my covers up around me.

"I thought no one could love me," said Phobetor.  "From the moment Morpheus established you as a Dream Lord, I was worried you were just another person who wanted to control me.  So I challenged you, and I've never fought harder against anyone."

That was one of the moments that defined my place as Dream Lord.  I bested him in combat, and tore off his carapace.  Even still, he didn't accept me as Dream Lord, and continued to try to antagonize me even after I'd bested both him and Ikelos.

"And your response?"  He chuckled, low in his throat.  "You healed me.  You gave me food."  

I remembered that night.  He tried to intimidate me, and Fortitude tore him off me and called a baku to nibble on his legs.  Baku eat dreams, so Phobetor quickly yielded.  He explained that he was hungry, and I had a lot of anxiety, so he thought I was fair game.  So I healed his legs and fed him and Ikelos, and explained that I don't want to control them; they literally know their jobs better than I do, and I'm not going to change something that works.

"From that day on," he explained, "I knew that you were someone special.  I didn't know in what capacity, but... that's why I gravitated to you so quickly.  You were free and open with your emotions, and of all the spirits you could have chosen, you trusted me with them."  He lay down next to me and began removing his chiton, baring his chest and arms.  "I knew I had every opportunity to confront you, and I did ask you several times if you had developed feelings for me."

"Waiting for me to make up my mind?" I asked.

He bobbed his head.  "In a way," he replied.  "We danced around it long enough, don't you think?  Neither wanting to interfere with the other's autonomy."  He slid under the covers.  "But you know what?"

"What?"

He put a gentle hand on my jaw and lifted my face until I met his gaze.  "If I didn't want this, I wouldn't have let you get this close," he said, inches from my face.  "At any time, I could have stopped you, or said 'no,' or fought you, and I know you would have respected that boundary."  He bent to tease my lips with his own.  "But as it stands, I'm in your bed, ready to fill my hands with you."  He kissed me deeply, then moved his arm to cradle my head, playing his fingers into my hair.  And suddenly, he was on top of me, warm and heavy, his skin creating friction on mine.  And I let him in, let him dominate the encounter.

Phobetor strikes me as sort of a "soft dom" and I for one am digging it.  He demanded that I put myself, my fulfillment, my pleasure first.  And whenever I did, he would respond with praise, or by supplementing my touch with his own.  His fingers, his lips, his tongue...  And we repeated the cycle until... well... you get the gist of it.

I never thought I'd have the capacity for a praise kink.  Can't say I'm mad at it.

And while we made love, we reassured each other.  Not with wanton declarations of adoration, but affirming our worthiness of being loved.  We deserved this.

Even afterwards, he commanded me to eat and take a hot bath (it wasn't hot enough, but it was still self care).  I complied with a "Yes sir," and the dynamic was established.

So... apparently I needed a dom.

What even is my life?

One year later...

I'm steadily realizing that a lot of my drive (especially my sex drive) is affected by how much I give of myself. The more I do or give or care, the more I want in return. Without that aspect, my sex drive has pretty much tanked. I don't need as much. And that is... strikingly nice. Odd, but nice.

I still think about Phobetor before any of my other consorts, perhaps because he's the most recent. Or perhaps it's because we match each other on some different level than I'm used to.

He still gives commands, when the occasion warrants it, but he never oversteps into aggression or audacity. He takes care of me.

My life is... good. And still getting better.

#spicy psychology #mythology and folklore #dreams #magic #trauma #spicy content

[crucifixi]

"... Have to be honest, huh? Well then, did you enjoy yourself the last time we met?" — @forgivenpunishment

@forgivenpunishment

⠀⠀⠀ Wolfwood sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair. His voice comes out in a low grunt, laced with discomfort and a touch of resentment.

❛ Alright, you want the truth? Yeah, I did. I enjoyed it, okay? It was... it was something. But it was also one of the weirdest, most damn confusing things I've ever done. ❜

He pauses, his hands trembling slightly as he clenches them into fists, a bitter laugh escaping his lips.

❛ I mean, how can you not find it odd? You're me, for God's sake. It's... it's unnatural. And, yeah, maybe there was some... attraction. Which is just... ridiculous. I mean, I'm not... I'm not narcissistic, or anything. It was just... it was the heat of the moment. A mistake ❜

He paused, a deep blush creeping up his neck to stain his cheeks a brilliant red. His words start to tumble out faster, his gaze darting away, unable to meet his mirrored self

❛ I want to forget it, to pretend it never happened, but it keeps popping back into my head. And it's not just the memory of it, it's the realization that I... that I found myself attractive. That I got pleasure from watching myself, from hearing myself... it's too much. ❜

His eyes widened at his own admission, alarm flashing across his face before he quickly turned away.

❛ This... this is too much. I can't do this. ❜

He mutters, then turns on his heel and storms out, leaving his mirrored self alone.

#✟ ｡ — Speak only the truth Wolfie ( M!A EVENT.) #forgivenpunishment #// he hate it here

[theevilmaninyourcomputer]

I got ma'amed at the mcdonalds drive through a few days ago (like, thanks but I ordered an ice coffee, not a dysphoric breakdown).

There is a false narrative, sorrounding the nature of trans bodies. That I'm a boy in a girl's body. That my body isn't my own. This, at least for me, has always been untrue. My body feels wrong, yes. But it has always been, and always will be mine. This is something I must make peace with.

I try not to resent my body. This has become more and more difficult, I have watched puberty transform my once familiar body into something alien. And still, doubt lingers in the back of my mind. I hate my voice, but I know that once I begin testosterone, I will lose the ability to sing. I'm stuck in this weird twilight zone of uncertainty. Do I dislike my thighs because I'm trans, and because they make it impossible to pass as a guy? Or have I simply been conditioned to take up as little space as possible? Do I dislike my face because it's feminine? Or because I was bullied in middle school?

It is simultaneously ridiculous and alarming that I have been out of the closet for nearly four years, and I still can't decide if I'm actually happier living as a man. Gender is such a performance (for me, at least). I wonder, how much of gender is an act for cis people? I had a girl tell me once that she was content to be a girl, and had no doubts whatsoever. And I don't necessarily think of myself as a man. I've tried to express this before. I can't stand labels. I think they're for other people. They give us the tools to talk about difficult concepts, but they force us into neat boxes, caging us in and allowing us no room for further abstraction. I have chosen the label 'genderfluid,' not because I believe myself to be genderfluid in the traditional sense of the word, but because I believe it is the closest I will get to defining my own constantly shifting gender identity.

I'm often asked about my pronouns (which are, to me, another fucking label). I don't mind she/her pronouns, if they're used in the right way. I'm not a girl, I'm not "femme." If you honestly think of me as a man (or a genderless being) and use she/her pronouns, then it doesn't bother me. What does bother me is getting ma'amed at the mcdonald's drive through, or being lumped in with the girls swim team despite being openly trans. When I medically transition (weirdly enough) I think I'll incorporate she/her back into my pronouns.

I can't stand they/them pronouns, I've never been able to. Which is strange, but to me they don't imply a gender gradient as they are designed to. Rather, they are another box. Similar to the phenomenon of 'nonbinary' entering the mainstream western lexicon as a "3rd gender" when it is actually an umbrella term, much like the obsolete (but mcuh more wonderful) "genderqueer."

He/him pronouns are comfortable. They aren't perfect, but they're fine. They work. I tell my trans friends to use he/him with the express understanding that I am not a man. To cis people, there is no nuance to my identity. I use he/him, I am a man. To many even *this* is a radical (and threatening) concept.

Even if my actual gender identity is...confusing, I know what I want as far as medical transition goes. I personally don't mind answering the "so, have you gotten the surgery?" question. Many genderqueer folks do mind, and that's perfectly reasonable. Cis people range from overly polite to incredibly invasive. In my experience, many 'invasive' cis people don't have bad intentions; they're just curious. Having to educate every other person you come into contact with is exhausting. Still, I try to cut people slack. Sometimes they say shit that isn't meant to be offensive, they simply do not have the language necessary to describe trans identity. Once, someone called me a woman after learning that I was a trans guy. After asking what they meant, I realized that they were talking about my biological sex. They were attempting to use inclusive language, and just...failing miserably. Because they did not have the tools to say what they wanted to. Which is, I suppose, where lables can be useful. She didn't know the terms AMAB or AFAB, why would she? She has never had any cause to dwell on her own gender, and that kind of terminology is really only used in queer circles.

There's no point to this rant. That's it. Uh, labels bad? Except when sometimes good? Idfk.

#theevilmaninyourcomputer #evilblogging #rant post #trans

[angeloroki]

you're the only one — s. todoroki & a. tamaki

— character ; aged up!shoto todoroki x fem!reader, aged up!amajiki tamaki x fem!reader

— request ; Can I request sm? So shouto and tamaki ( feel free to remove any of them if you want to ) having I nightmare about there s/o cheat on them and when they wake up they are kind of upset or insecure and reader comfort them ( fem!reader plz )And don’t feel forced to do it just do it when you want to and ily take care of yourself 😘

— genre ; angst & fluff at the end

— warnings ; insecurity ?

— a/n ; well amajiki's is longer cuz i don't write much about him, i hope you'll like it anyway!

and ty for your request <3 take care of yourself too ily too muah!

shoto todoroki

you turned to the other side, expecting to feel the comforting warmth of your boyfriend at your side. just before you were greeted by an icy morning cold.

reluctantly, and slightly surprised, you opened your eyes to find that, instead of seeing his still beautiful morning face, you saw only a void.

you looked at the alarm clock on your bedside table, it was far too early for him to have left.

with a sigh, you grabbed your slippers and dressing gown, and left your warm bed to find a cold you wished you hadn't met so soon.

as you left your room, you ran into shoto in your small kitchen, sipping coffee. a smile slowly came to light up your tired face.

« you're up early today. » you say by way of a greeting.

with slow steps, you place a tender kiss on his cheek. nevertheless, what made you raise your eyebrows was the fact that he was avoiding you. since when was the list of ingredients in the packet of biscuits so interesting?

he greeted you anyway, in a low, monotonous and slightly broken voice.

« what's going on ? »

alerted by his sadness, you took his face in your hands in a matter of seconds. your piercing eyes stared intently at him, ready to relieve his pain whatever it was.

his face was red from crying, and you still had traces of it on his rosy cheeks. he tried to pull away, with a gentle but strong gesture. worried, you bit your upper lip to keep from crying back. it was rare to see him in this state, being usually stoic. few things could put him in such a state.

« nothing, i just had a bad dream. »

your hand remained on his cheek, and you gently forced him to look at you. with a gentle gesture, your other free hand came to meet his, a certain warmth came to warm you despite the morning cold.

« i'm listening baby. »

a long sigh escaped his lips.

« it's not worth it, y/n, just ridiculous. »

you frowned slightly.

« shoto, I'm worried. »

a faint smile stretched his lips slightly. and without you expecting it, he laid his head on your neck. his warm breath made you shiver.

« you abandoned me from one day to the next. without a word, without any explanation. in fact, you left me for another man. and that's how i understood that i wasn't good enough for you.

i know i'm not the ideal man, i'm quite atypical and i don't always show my love for you like other boyfriends do. and sometimes i wonder how a woman as fabulous as you can be with me. »

he stopped.

« you know i'm not stupid, i see how other men look at you. »

as he spoke, you could feel his tears rolling down your chest.

« but i love you. you're the first person i've ever loved this much. you've shown me another side of life that i never got to know because of my father. you've taught me to love y/n. i can't see myself without you. »

your hand came to meet his hair, which you gently stroked. a tear of your own this time came down your face too. you were kind of relieved that it wasn't that bad, although seeing him in that state kind of freaked you out.

« shoto todoroki, listen to me. you're the perfect man for me. you're the one who smiles at me without even meaning to. you're the one who got me to like cold soba. you're the one who comes to warm me up at night in your arms. you're the one i could die for. you're the one who manages to get me to watch the same cheesy romantic movie every night. you're the one i could talk to for hours and days. you're the one person i can see myself spending the rest of my life with. »

you didn't hear him crying anymore. instead, a comforting silence enveloped you both now.

« y/n - »

« you are the man of my life. and i love you like crazy, it scares me a little sometime how much love i have for you. you have no idea. »

with that, you placed a kiss on his lips, which tasted slightly salty from his now dry tears. it was with pleasure that you felt a smile stretch against your lips. his arms came around you in a long, loving hug.

« i love you, y/n l/n todoroki. »

amajiki tamaki

you had finished work earlier so you decided to surprise your fiancé by making his favourite dish.

you hadn't seen him this morning before you left for work, which surprised you a little because he always took the time to come and say hello or give you a kiss.

and now that you think about it, it's true that he hadn't texted you all day, which he usually did too. whether it was to complain about how he embarrassed himself in front of everyoneor just to slip a sweet i love you into your notifications.

had you pissed him off ? you shook your head at yourself, you don't remember if you did. you were probably imagining things.

a few minutes later, you heard the door slam and your boyfriend drop his stuff in front of the entrance. you expected him to come up behind you to give you a long, warm kiss. well, he didn't and probably won't because you heard him lock himself in your room.

you raised an eyebrow. something was wrong.

with a quick step, and slightly apprehensive, you joined him, and came upon a tamaki curled up in a ball in your bed.

you sat down next to him, putting your hand gently on his shoulder.

« tell me what's wrong. »

« i don't know what you're talking about. »

you flinch slightly at the tone of his voice. hard and cold it was. which was a big change from his usually soft and warm voice.

the high school amajiki had grown up, matured. you were able to be by his side as he evolved, he was now a confident and strong man. although old habits die hard

« huh ? did i do something ? »

he finally met your gaze, and it didn't match his tone. full of melancholy, his eyes were bright. he had been crying.

your expression, which at first was slightly annoyed, became more and more panicked. your hands automatically came to meet his, but they refused to meet them.

« tell me what the fuck is wrong ! »

« i - i don't know if it's a good idea for us to get married. »

you swallowed hard. the words stuck in your throat, you didn't understand what had just happened.

« w-why ? » you asked silently.

« i'm not good enough for you, you deserve better. let's stop kidding ourselves. »

an unpleasant heat came over your face, it was anger rising.

how could he know that you deserved better ? didn't your unconditional love for him count for anything ?

« why- why are you saying all this now ? »

it wasn't like him. he had a tendency to doubt himself sometimes, but he had never doubted your love for each other.

« isaw that you had cheated on me. in a dream, of course. you seemed happy with this man. he was everything i wasn't. perfect. i don't want you to waste your time with me, i don't want you to make the mistake of your life by getting engaged to me... i'm just a waste of time, well i've always been anyway. you must think i'm exaggerating and being ridiculous... i probably am... »

he lowered his head as he spoke, now refusing to look you in the eye. it was as if he were eighteen again, the shy and anxious teenager who refused to make eye contact with anyone when he was embarrassed.

a slight gasp escaped your lips.

your hands finally met his, you smiled softly when he didn't try to pull away. you let the silence settle comfortably between you, letting the gestures express your thoughts.

your soft gestures that had already comforted him many times in the hardest moments as well as in the most joyful ones. the same ones that had always succeeded in making him feel loved and safe in your fusional relationship.

he relaxed little by little in your arms, letting all his doubts fly away with this tension that paralyzed his muscles.

you finally spoke up when you were in a fairly comfortable position, both in each other's arms.

« amajiki, baby. i could never be this happy with anyone else. and i mean it. you're the one i grew up with, loved, cried with, laughed with. how can you say you're a waste of time? sweetie, even if we broke up, i'd be happy to tell everyone i loved a great man like you. but i know that's never going to happen, because i'm ready to say yes to you when the time comes. »

his grip around your waist tightened slightly.

« i - »

a tear rolled down your cheek. It wasn't sad, it represented all the love you had for him.

« you don't have to say anything, just kiss me tamaki. »

with your eyes closed, you felt his lips against yours. he had a gift for giving sweet kisses too.

« let me make you the happiest of brides y/n.. »

#bnha x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki x y/n #todoroki x you #shoto x y/n #shoto x you #shoto todoroki x you #amajiki x y/n #amajiki x reader #amajiki x you #tamaki x y/n #tamaki x you #amajiki tamaki x reader

[mizunetzu]

wait okay i have so many ideas you have no clue- okay so basically y/n is too scared to confess to either ushijima or shinsou (you decide lol) so he just puts love notes in his locker :)) but ushijima/shinsou catches him one day so he teases him about it but he liked y/n too so he lowkey confesses and its super fluffy i- 🥺🥺 i've had this idea for so long but i have no clue where to start writing it myself lolll

Guess who...took 4 months...to do Mr. Shinsoussimps request...not me...ahahaha...what are you talking about...BUT ANYWAYS IM SO SORRY MR SHINSOU PLS TAKE THIS FIC AS MY APOLOGIES

——————

Ushijima x reader - Secret Admirer Love Letter-kun!

⚠️warnings - none

Pronouns- male, he/him

——————

(Y/n’s) hands shook as he traced the linings of his love letter.

It had a red, heart-shaped sticker on the seal flap, with the words ‘To Ushijima-san’ written in royal purple across the back. The letter had slight crinkles from the shaky grip (Y/n) held it with.

His heart raced purely thinking about how Ushijima would react. Would he even react? Or would he just look at him with that blank stare and walk past him? Would he be ridiculed for being a man giving a love letter to another man?

Every single intrusive thought made (Y/n) want to tear up the letter and flush it down a toilet. Nonetheless, he stood next to Ushijima’s locker, waiting for him to appear.

His legs shook. His heart felt like it was going to explode out of his chest. He could physically feel the sweat running down his forehead. He was probably gaining stares from other students for standing near Ushijima’s locker and panicking silently.

All these ‘what-if’s’ was beginning to make (Y/n) second-guess his decision. Maybe he couldn’t do this after all...

No! He had to! He’s been harboring his feelings for Ushijima for years now, and he was getting nowhere! Even if it was rejection, and he certainly hoped it was not, he needed an answer!

Just as if right on cue, (Y/n) heard the familiar deep voice of Ushijima coming down the hall. He wasn’t saying much, but the accompanied grunts of acknowledgement to Tendou’s ramblings was enough proof it was him. Without thinking, (Y/n’s) panic took over him, shoving his love letter into Ushijima’s locker and dashing out of the way.

He blended himself in with the gaggle of students near their lockers, watching Ushijima as he opened his own locker.

“Ara?” Tendou cocked his head when the letter (Y/n) slipped in fluttered out. It landed on the floor gracefully. Ushijima bent over and plucked it off the ground.

“Our Wakatoshi~kun has a secwet admiwer?” Tendou squashed his face together and boared curious eyes into the heart-shaped sticker on the note. Ushijima grunted.

“It seems to be a love letter.” Ushijima’s low voice sent even more panic through (Y/n). He didn’t want to be there while he opened the letter. But here he was, 10 feet away from him as he carefully peeled off the heart sticker from the envelope.

Ushijima’s eyes silently scanned the letter, it’s meticulous, thought-out writing filling Ushijima’s eyes. The silence rang so, so loud to (Y/n), as he watched Ushijima read his love letter with his emotionless face.

After what seemed like forever, Ushijima lifted his head up from the note. (Y/n’s) heart stopped.

“It is a love letter.” (Y/n), and Tendou, deadpanned.

Tendou reached for the letter. “Fiiiiine, then let me see-!”

Ushijima pulled the letter away, raising it above his head and out of Tendou’s easy reach. He lowered the letter and cradled it to his chest.

“No. It’s mine.”

(Y/n’s) heart fluttered. Could this mean-?

“But it does, however, have no name.”

“Awh. Poor Wakatoshi-kun’s admirer must be rewwy shy~”

(Y/n) internally facepalmed. Of course he forgot to sign the note! Why wouldn’t he?! (Y/n) crinkled up his nose. He was still determined to get his feelings to Ushijima.

He turned around, and walked to class. The next day, for sure, he was going to give him a love letter with his signature on it this time.

——

(Y/n) stared down at his paper, then shifted his eyes to the alarm clock sitting tauntingly at his dorm room’s desk, with the bright red numbers 10:35 pm glaring so menacingly at him. Like it was telling him to hurry up and sign the new love letter he just wrote. (Y/n) re-read the letter on his desk for the 6th time that night.

Everything was perfect. It explained his feelings perfectly, explained how long he’d been smitten for him for, hell, he even doodled a small picture of Ushijima himself with a heart next to it in the corner of the page.

Everything was there, except his name.

Did he really want to put his name, though? I mean, (Y/n) saw how...endearing Ushiwaka’s face looked reading his original letter. What if he ruined that when he finds out it was him who wrote it? And not some cute girl?

(Y/n) stared at the empty space on the page where his name was supposed to go. His hand gripped his pencil tighter than he should’ve, and began to write.

‘(L/n) (Y/...’

He stopped. (Y/n) thought about it for awhile, then grabbed his eraser and scrubbed at the name until it was pristine white again.

‘Your secret admirer’

Was all he wrote.

He packaged up the note in another small envelope, pressed a cute little heart sticker to the flap, and went to bed.

——

The next day, (Y/n) made sure to rush to school early to slip the note in his locker. He wanted to see his reaction to his new note. It made him feel sorta high. What kind of face would he make? Would he be delighted? He hoped he would.

(Y/n) crammed the note into Ushiwaka’s locker. No one was around. Good. No one saw him shove the letter through, therefore no one could tell Ushijima it was him. (Y/n) sighed contently, and timpered off somewhere secluded, but somewhere he could still see Ushijima and his locker.

After scrolling on his phone for what seemed like an hour, he heard Tendou’s familiar voice, humming a strange song and trailing next to Ushijima. It was his daily indicator that Ushijima was near. If he could hear Tendou coming, almost 100% Ushijima would be there too. (Y/n) pocketed his phone quickly and peeked behind a row of lockers.

Ushijima silently unhinged his locker, listening to Tendou talk. However, they fell silent when another letter fluttered out from his locker, this time landing so perfectly in his hands.

“Ara ara? Another note from Admirer-chan?”

“Yes. But I know it’s a boy, Tendou.”

(Y/n’s) heart dropped. He watched as Ushiwaka peeled off the heart sticker once more, while continuing his conversation with Tendou.

“Oh yeah? How so?”

Ushijima stopped, and reached into his locker once more. He pulled out (Y/n’s) previous note, and pointed to a line of text scribbled on there so neatly. Tendou raised his eyebrow, and leaned down to inspect the note.

‘-Besides, there’s no way someone as amazing as you can like a guy like me. It’s weird right? I hope you don’t think it’s weird. But I wouldn’t blame you.’

“Ahhhh~ makes sense...” Tendou hooked his arms dramatically over the back of his head. “But do you? Does Wakatoshi-kun think Secret Admirer-kun is weird?”

Ushijima traced the two love letters with his eyes. “I think he’s brave.”

(Y/n) clutched his tightening chest. It suddenly became really hard to breathe. How was Ushijima being so unintentionally sweet?

Tendou cooed. “Awwww, Is our Wakatoshi-kun catching feelings for his Admirer-kun?”

Ushijima folded the two notes back into their envelopes silently. He said nothing to Tendou’s remarks, while gently placing the two love letters back into a safe spot in his locker.

(Y/n) brisk-walked away, flustered, before he could hear his answer.

——

Writing notes and hiding them in Ushijima’s locker became a sort of habit for (Y/n) in the past few weeks.

Every now and then, he’d write a short love letter signed “Your Secret Admirer” or “Admirer-kun” and slip it under Ushijima’s dorm room door or the cracks between his locker. It became an addiction of watching him unravel the note with the tenderness of an angel. For such a big dude, he held each love letter (Y/n) wrote him with such delicacy.

(Y/n) walked with a pep in his step as he arrived to the school building early, like he’d usually been doing. He’d recently been writing small letters, playground compliments like “I think you look nice today!” or “the way you play volleyball gets me all fired up!” but this was the first time in a while he wrote a good chunk of his feelings out.

At first he thought he would make Ushijima uncomfortable, but after many of his personal notes filled with the most wonderful explanations of his feelings, or rambling about dates he’d like to take him on, he’s grown more comfortable with it. Especially after seeing the teeny tiny, barely noticeable blush tinting his cheeks as he read them.

(Y/n) stopped in front of Ushiwaka’s locker. It was a familiar stop, after cramming in letter after letter inside for about a month or two now. It’s been so long that (Y/n) couldn’t even remember himself.

Just as his hand met with the cold metal locker to slip the note in, two hands slammed down on (Y/n’s) shoulders, effectively scaring him shitless.

“I’ve caught you! Secret admirer-kun!”

“Uwaaaah!”

Tendou made a show of flamboyantly pointing his lanky fingers at (Y/n), bending his back father then (Y/n) knew was possible in the process. (Y/n) jittered, swinging his hands in front of him while stuttering incoherently.

“I-it-its not-! It’s not wh-what it-! T-the letter-I was just-I-!”

“There’s no use for it now, Secret-Admirer (L/n)-kun! You’ve been caught red handed!” Tendou stuck his tongue out heartily while (Y/n) broke into a cold sweat. If Tendou kept yelling the whole damn school would hear him.

“I-I’m not the one leaving notes in Ushijima-kun’s locker! I was just-!”

“Oya? Then how did you know Wakatoshi-kun was gettin’ notes in his locker in the first place?” Tendou eyed him down half jokingly. (Y/n) sputtered.

“More importantly...” Tendou dramatically pointed to the envelope half-sticking out from the slits of Ushijima’s locker. “Whaaaaats that!?”

“That’s-!”

There was no use fighting Tendou on this. (Y/n) deflated, defeated and grasping on to the wall of lockers for support. “Uuuuu...”

“So, Secret Admirer-“

“S-stop calling me that! Just (L/n) is fine-!”

“-Secret Admirer-kun, what made you fancy our lovely Wakatoshi-kun?”

(Y/n) turned around, facing the locker as Tendou smiled his usual, Tendou-grin. (Y/n) didn’t wanna look at Tendou and his stupid knowing smirk.

“He’s just...I dunno, he’s just so-cool...and stuff...and he’s so nice...looking...”

“Ah, such sophisticated words-tell me, do you write all of this down in the letters you give him?”

“Hey!” (Y/n) whipped his head around.

Tendou chuckled, and part of (Y/n) wanted to smack him upside the head. Tendous laughter eventually died down, as he pretended to wipe a tear from his cheek. He looked back at (Y/n), who was blushing profusely and had his arms crossed.

“Phew...haha...” Tendou cleared his throat. He pointed straight at (Y/n). “Now, here’s some ultra wise words from Satori-sama!” He mimicked a fake drum roll on his lap, before pointing at (Y/n) again.

“Ja-jun~! You should Wakatoshi-kun how you feel about him!”

(Y/n’s) heart got stuck in his throat. “A-are you crazy! I could never! I-I’m not...I’m not...I’m scared..”

“Hm? But you’re not scared to write about how much you wanna kiss him alllllllll oveeeeeer-?”

“That’s different!” (Y/n) yelled, more quietly this time. He turned back to the locker, and tipped the rest of the note in sticking out inside the slit. The note disappeared through the gap, just like all of its predecessors. “Like this, I can tell him how much I love him without him knowing it was from me! What if he’s disappointed it’s me and not some other dude?”

“I’m veeeeeery sure he won’t be. But suit yourself, I guess.” Tendou shrugged. He turned around and left, but not before saying,

“But you’d better tell him yourself before he finds out from someone else.”

“Wait-what does that mea-“

(Y/n) looked back, only to find Tendou gone. (Y/n) stood there, perplexed, before dashing off to his own locker, so he wouldn’t be spotted near Ushijima’s.

——

Everyday when (Y/n) went to slip another note into Ushiwaka’s locker, Tendou’s words would ring in his mind.

‘You’d better tell him yourself before he finds out from someone else.’

He knew that. He knew that but he couldn’t stop himself from cowardly slipping notes into Ushijima’s locker, just to run and take cover as he opened them up. And one time he could swear Tendou was looking right at him in his hiding spot when Ushijima was reading one of his letter.

(Y/n) shook the thoughts from his head. That happened 3 days ago, and nothing happened. Tendou was probably just trying to scare him into telling him. Yeah. There’s no way anyone could’ve found out about him being Ushijima’s secret admirer.

He huffed and strode up to Ushijima’s locker, just like he did every time before that. No one was in the hallway. There was no footsteps, at least to (Y/n’s) knowledge, and Tendou wasn’t around with his booming voice. If (Y/n) could hear Tendou coming, chances are Ushijima was not too far behind.

Tendou wasn’t there. (Y/n) was safe. He smiled and rose the letter up to the slot in Ushijima’s locker. He slowly crammed the note in, slowly, slowly until-

Slam!

A large, calloused hand slammed against the locker, making (Y/n) jolt up in surprise. (Y/n’s) heart stopped beating. He felt someone lean against his ear, and then they whispered:

“So Tendou was right. You were the one leaving the letters in my locker.”

“Ushijima-kun-!”

(Y/n) whipped his head around by the speed of lightning, pressing himself against the locker wall as if he’d disappear into it. Stupid fucking Tendou! Of course he’d tell Ushijima!

Ushiwaka didn’t move from his spot in front of (Y/n). His arm outstretched on the wall beside (Y/n) didn’t falter either, making him blush even more. God, he wanted to disappear.

The letter, now hidden crudely behind (Y/n) sweaty back, was being smushed as he tried shrinking in on himself.

“I-I-“ (Y/n’s) mouth ran dry. “It’s not what it looks like-!”

“Hm.” Ushijima’s deep voice manage to startle (Y/n), despite being right infront of him. God, he was close. So close. He’s too close. Oh god, why is he so close?

Ushijima suddenly grabbed (Y/n’s) hand, making him sputter in surprise as Ushijima pulled it out gently. A letter with a red heart sticker on the flap was wedged in between (Y/n’s) shaky, sweaty fingers. Ushijima looked at the envelope, while (Y/n) averted his embarrassed eyes.

“...But it’s exactly what it looks like.”

Words perished in (Y/n’s) throat. If the locker would just open up and swallow him whole, now was the time.

Ushiwaka plucked the note out of (Y/n’s) hands, ignoring the small protests of (Y/n) himself. He tried to grab for the letter, but Ushijima held the envelope high above his head and grabbed at (Y/n’s) shivering wrists. (Y/n) squeaked.

“...why are you trying to grab it back if this letter was meant for me in the first place?” Ushijima looked oblivious to (Y/n’s) embarrassment. (Y/n) croaked. He didn’t even register what Ushiwaka said with how strong and warm his grip on his wrists were.

He didn’t realize Ushijima managed to peel off the heart sticker and fish out the note with his hand until he started reading the letter. His eyes scanned the words, even when (Y/n) quietly squirmed protestingly in his grasp.

“Mm.” Ushijima hummed. (Y/n’s) eyes widened when he realized what he wrote in today’s note.

‘Y’know, I think you’re really cool with how you’re so dedicated to your club. But maybe...one day we could grab a bite to eat after your club activities? Just you and me? And maybe if I’m lucky enough I just might get a kiss from the amazing Ushijima Wakatoshi-kun~’

(Y/n) wanted no more but to die then and there. Ushijima looked at (Y/n) with an unreadable gaze.

“Ah. So it seems in today’s letter, you would like to go out for food and kiss. I am free after club activities today at 6. Are you free at that time or must we reschedule?”

(Y/n) met Ushijima’s state with a confused face. He said nothing-he couldn’t say anything. All he could do was muster up a weak “w-wha..?”

“So...you are not free today...?” Ushijima’s face was normal, but he gave off the same vibe a sad, kicked puppy would. It was sorta cute. (Y/n) waved his hands around frantically in Ushijima’s grasp.

“N-no! That’s not it! I-I’m free! I’m totally free! I just-“

“You just what?” Ushijima cocked his head to the side bluntly. (Y/n) opened his mouth to say something, but let it clamp shut quietly.

(Y/n) averted his gaze. “Well...you don’t think it’s...weird that I was the one leaving you love letters?”

“But I already knew you were a man in the first place.”

“Still!” Ushijima was genuinely confused. (Y/n’s) voice died down a bit.

“Aren’t you...y’know...disappointed?”

Ushijima’s gaze never left (Y/n’s) eyes. “Why would I be disappointed?”

“I’m...w-well...it’s just...”

Ushiwaka placed his free hand on the other side of (Y/n’s) face, effectively trapping him in between his arms. Ushijima’s heavy gaze was too much to bear. (Y/n) instinctively averted his gaze away.

“You still haven’t given me a valid reason to be disappointed.”

“I-“

“You’re lovely, I believe you are very attractive, and you leave nice letters of encouragement in my locker everyday.”

“Wait-“

“I believe we both have feelings for each other. Therefore, I do not see why you are so hesitant on just doing what today’s lovely note said.”

“Ushi-“

“Is this just an excuse to turn me down? Were the letters not your true feelings? Because if so you just have to say so-“

“Ushijima-kun!”

(Y/n) rasped out between his fingers. He was covering his blushing face, and Ushijima didn’t know why until he realized his face was centimeters away from (Y/n’s). If it weren’t for (Y/n’s) hands cupping his face, they’d probably be able to kiss with one push closer.

“P-ple-please s-step back...”

“Oh. Sorry.”

Ushijima moved back, but didn’t quite move his arms from their positions on either side of (Y/n). He blinked. Silence engulfed them both, Ushijima bluntly staring at (Y/n) as he blushed and blushed into his hands.

Ushijima figured he should say something, and even open his mouth to speak when (Y/n) suddenly piped up, bringing his hands down from his face.

“I-I’m free...at 6...”

Ushijima blinked again.

“Ah. Today?”

“Yeah..!”

“Lovely. It is decided then. Will you wait for me at the gym after practice? If not I can pick you up from your dorm room.”

(Y/n) fought the urge to pinch his arm to see if he was dreaming or not. “I-I can meet you at the gym!”

Ushijima smiled gently, and that’s probably the first time (Y/n’s) seen him smile ever. It was so coaxing, relaxed and warm, (Y/n) wanted to take of picture of it and just stare at it for days. Ushijima let his hands fall to his sides. Not before giving a pat to (Y/n’s) head.

“It is decided then. It’s a date.”

(Y/n) had to remind himself to thank Tendou later.

——————

Lowkey this was so fun to write~ why don’t y’all leave some love in the comments because of that~~?

#ushiwaka x male reader #ushijima x male reader #wakatoshiushijima #ushijima wakatoshi #ushy gushy #hq x y/n #hq x male reader #hq ushijima #hq x reader #haikyuu x male reader #haikyuu x reader #ushijima x you #ushijima x reader #ushijima x y/n #mr shinsoussimp

[miss-smutty]

Forbidden - Chapter 2

Summary- Jess couldn't stop thinking about the guy she'd met in the coffee shop, he was drop dead gorgeous, mature and everything she's always wanted but how would she find him again when she didn't even know his name?

Word count- 3.1K

Pairing- Prof!Chris Hemsworth x OC

Warnings- Swearing, slight smut talk

18+ only!

Disclaimer: This is an entire work of fiction/AU and has no affiliation to real life what so ever! This is a fictional story about fictional characters who happen to share names and faces with some real people.

Posted: 13th August 2021

Taglist:- @innerpaperexpertcloud @pandaxnienke @chickensarentcheap @jjpogueprincess @longlostinanotherworld @mostly-marvel-musings @darklydeliciousdesires @monet-belle

Chapter 1

The only thing was, he didn't know I was only twenty and I had no way of finding him again.

If fate did bring us back together, would he mind that I was still a student? That I couldn't even drink when we went on dates? 

Who am I kidding? Of course he would mind, he could get any woman he wanted, why would he want me?

"Morning, you feeling any better?" Ellie was awake before me as usual, she spent hours getting ready in the morning and was now sat at her desk finishing her make up.

"I suppose, can't beat myself up forever can I?" I was more the get up and go kind of girl, I could never understand why she'd take hours getting ready just to go to class but I suppose you never know who you're going to bump into.

"No you can not. Not when there's literally thousands of guys here to take your pick of." 

"Psh!" I finally pull myself out of bed after thinking about the thought of possibly bumping into my hunk again I changed my mind about making myself a little more presentable.

"What d'ya mean psh?" Ellie turns to look at you, her mascara wand in her hand and only one eye made up, she looked ridiculous. How could you take her seriously looking like that? 

"I mean I'm not interested in these childish boys anymore El, I want a man." 

"Fuck me, you spoke to the guy for two minutes and already you're acting like you've lost the love of your life." Wow, that hurt a little.

"I didn't say I was talking about him although it would be nice. I just meant I'm sick of playing all these childish games and never knowing where I stand. Don't you get sick of being the one who always falls deeper? Getting messed about and then being the one who's left hurt?" I joined her at the desk, putting on a little mascara and eyeliner. "I want a man who knows what he wants and treats me better. Don't you?"

"Well shit, when you put it like that I can't argue with you. It would be nice, hey I wonder if Mr Aussie has a brother?" She waggles her eyebrows at me, making me laugh. "I gotta go babe, what class you got?" 

"My first Comms class this morning." I did not sound excited at the prospect because I really wasn't. I'd put it off in freshman and sophomore years but thought I better get it over and done with before my senior year.

"Oh really? I didn't know you'd taken that class. I heard a load of seniors talking the other day and apparently the Professor is drop dead gorgeous. I was thinking about taking it up too just to see what all the fuss was about." 

"Well that should make the class a lot more interesting, maybe it isn't going to be as bad as I thought."

"See, every cloud and all that. See you tonight, fancy the bar?" She shouts over her shoulder as she walks towards the door.

"Sounds good, see you later."

I looked over my outfit I'd already chosen for the day, just some jeans and a plain t-shirt and realised it wouldn't do. Not when there's the prospect of a hot Professor to impress. My wardrobe desperately needed an update, especially now I was focused on finding myself a man and not one of these easily pleased college boys, that were happy with anything as long as I showed a bit of leg and tits. I settled with some tight black jeans with a black, lace-rimmed, cami body suit and a cute little cream, cropped blazer to finish it off. It made me feel confident when I checked myself out in the mirror and if I do say so myself I looked smoking hot. I checked the time on my phone, realising I was going to be late I quickly ran the curling tongs through the ends of my long blonde hair before grabbing my bag and rushing out of the door.

In the hopes of catching the eye of this new professor I'd completely forgotten about the hottie from the coffee shop, which was probably a good thing, it's not like I'm ever going to see him again. I kind of wished I would though, especially when I was looking and feeling this great but hey, on to bigger and better prospects.

I thought that being late would mean I'd be stuck with a lame choice of desk in class but luckily the back row was practically empty and I could hide in the corner of the lecture theatre. I laughed to myself when I realised that practically all the girls were occupying the front desks, obviously they'd heard the rumours too.

I pushed my hair behind my ears and fumbled in my bag for my pen and notepad, when I glanced to the door and caught the eyes of a student I hadn't seen before. I couldn't deny how attractive he was, with his bright blue eyes and floppy hair, oh and that smile. Wow! He smiled brightly at me as he made his way to the back of the class, his eyes glinting, shining like diamonds as he ignored the whispers from the girls at the front. The whole row of desks were free so when he chose the desk right next to me, my stomach fluttered.

I kept my eyes on my notepad, doodling on the front cover so as to avoid that eye contact with him again. I could see a cheeky glint in his eyes and I'd learnt from experience what that meant, trouble. I wasn't ready to get myself back into a situation like that again.

My eyes shot to the front as I heard the room erupt into wolf whistles, the girls at the front giggling and whispering to each other, I rolled my eyes at them, how embarrassing. 

Then I realised what all the fuss was about and my heart almost stopped beating, thudding against my chest at an alarming rate. How is this even possible? How the fuck could he be a professor? Surely he's not old enough. Oh fuck.

I sank lower in my chair, willing the ground to just swallow me up or maybe if I got low enough I would escape his notice. No such luck, his eyes scanned the class and when they fell on mine, his face lit up with anger? No not anger. A hunger. His eyes scanned my body, falling over my hair and down to my cleavage. I felt hot under his gaze, was I blushing? Sweating? Oh god, I've never wished for class to be over so much in my life.

My professor was the guy I'd been shamelessly flirting with in the coffee shop. I don't understand how this could be real, I know I wanted to bump into him again but this is such a cruel twist of fate. I'd never even suspected him to be a professor, he was so damn thick and muscly. The clothes he wore were so stylish and he looked way too young to be a professor. He must be so embarrassed that he'd been flirting with a student, I definitely was embarrassed that I'd been flirting with a professor.

I was so panicked, I didn't have a clue what to do in this situation. Squirming in my seat, trying to look anywhere but at the Professor but I could feel his eyes on me as he prepared for the class to start. People were still whispering amongst themselves and I risked a glance in his direction, that made me bite on to my lip to stop myself from screeching. His eyes were still on me, subtly glancing up from the pile of paper he'd just taken out of his bag, his eyebrows furrowed as he studied me. He certainly didn't look embarrassed infact he looked downright feral and the thought of it made my pussy clench, so much so I had to cross my legs under the table.

"I guess you're obsessed with this new Professor too, huh?" The guy next to me leant across his desk to whisper and fuck me if I wasn't imagining it but he was Australian too. Like have we just suddenly had a huge delivery of hot Australian guys arrive at the University? This was just downright unfair, how was I meant to cope?

"No, what makes you say that?" Why did I ask that question? Like it wasn't obvious how much I was sweating and squirming in my seat. Luckily he didn't have time to answer when my eyes were drawn back to the professor as he stood at the front of the class with his hands casually in his pockets and cleared his throat to get our attention.

If I wasn't mistaken, now he looked angry, the muscles in his neck more prominent as he glared between me and the guy next to me.

Was he angry that my attention had been taken away from him and was on another guy? Or because we were talking when we should've been paying attention?

"Now I've got your attention, we're going to use our first session to get to know each other a little better. You'll be doing quite a lot of speeches so it's best if you feel comfortable with one another. I'll start by introducing myself." That sexy accent makes me sweat even more, nevermind the fact that his eyes keep finding their way back to me. "So, I'm Professor Hemsworth and I'm originally from Melbourne in Australia." His eyes meet mine again, a knowing look in them.

"G'day mate." Some idiot from the back shouted, making everyone laugh and I couldn't help but join in a little. Professor Hemsworth smiled at the joke, his eyes creasing in the corners and his smile growing wider when he looked to me and saw me giggling.

"Yeah, very original. Alright, alight, settle down now." His voice is so commanding and authoritive, it's such a turn on. "So, I haven't been here for very long and I'm still getting used to how different things are here. The weather for one." He earned a couple of laughs from people. I couldn't keep my eyes off of him, he was so mesmerizing. The way his face animated as he spoke, his eyebrows raising and lips curling.

"I was going to ask you all to go easy on me but that's not going to happen is it?" He got a couple of head shakes and sympathetic looks from the girls. "No, I thought not. Well now it's my turn to torture you. I'll start alphabetically, stand up and tell everyone something about yourself." I swallowed back my fear, this is the reason I'd put off this class until now and as if it wasn't hard enough talking in front of a whole class I now had to do it in front of Professor Hemsworth too.

"Claire Abbott." Fuck. He'd started, at least my name would be one of the last ones.

"Hi I'm Claire." The tall blonde at the front stood up, twirling her hair around her finger and giggling like a child. I rolled my eyes at her and caught the Professor smirk in my direction. "I erm… I don't know what to say?" She looks up at the Professor questioningly.

"Just anything about yourself that we might find interesting, the first thing that comes to mind." He replied.

"Well I own four horses and I'm the cheer captain." I rolled my eyes again, scoffing quietly and Professor Hemsworth had to hold in a laugh as he looked in my direction.

"Talk about predictable." The guy next to me leaned over to whisper to me again.

"Totally." I laughed back at him and when I looked back at the Professor he was glaring straight at us again, his face set sternly.

"You two at the back, we'll wait for you shall we?" Professor Hemsworth said sternly, everyone turned around to look at us but I barely noticed, I was too focused on the way his stern voice made my cunt flutter when he called me out.

I didn't speak for the rest of the class, although I had the urge to, just to hear the way his voice sounded when he was angry. I couldn't concentrate on what the other students were saying, too focused on watching the way the Professor's face changed everytime he looked my way, which was pretty often, to my suprise.

"Jake Hudson." In my peripheral, I saw the guy next to me stand and when he did, Professor Hemsworth's eyes narrowed.

"Hi I'm Jake." He pushed his hands in to his pockets cooly, glancing at me as he did. "I'm also from Australia." He looked at the professor slyly, a smirk forming on his lips, laughing at the other students shouting G'day mate. "I was forced to move here but I'm glad I did because I've just met the most beautiful girl I've ever seen." The class burst into rounds of whistles and cheers as Jake sat down, smiling at me cockily. I could feel my cheeks blushing, I was flattered, he was absolutely gorgeous but hadn't I sworn of boys my own age?

Professor Hemsworth looked even more angry now as he loosened his tie a little, that black tie that draws my view down, like a arrow pointing straight to his cock. I tried to keep my eyes down on my desk, doodling in my notebook so I could avoid that hungry gaze, anxiously waiting for my turn. What the hell was I going to say?

"Jessica Watson." Shit. I stood slowly, trying to give myself more time to think, I couldn't stand everyone's eyes being on me especially the Professors and Jakes.

"Hey, I'm Jessica." I smiled nervously, tucking my hair behind my ear. "These last couple of days have been pretty eventful for me." I looked away from the chalk board so I could search Professor Hemsworth's face. "I'm living the life of a romance novels heroine and I'm excited to see what the next couple of days bring." I sat down keeping the gaze of the professor, I'd forgotten I was in a room full of people until I heard the ooh's and ahh's and my cheeks turned scarlet. The Professor's eyes glowed with heat as he watched me sit down before shaking his head and turning back to the class. Jake also caught my eye as I sat back at my desk, my cheeks still burning, he smiled at me, the kind of smile that crinkles your eyes. I felt kind of bad that he probably thought I was talking about him when in fact I was talking about our professor.

"I hope we all feel a bit more comfortable with each other now, some of you shared some pretty revealing things." He looked at me again. "Some of you, not so much." He raised his eyebrows at a group of guys. "I'll have a schedule for you all next time I see you, anybody that has any questions can see me after class, everyone else is free to leave." His eyes scanned me as he turned around to sit at his desk, I watched a couple of girls approach him predictably.

"Are you going to the party at our frat this weekend?" I had to reluctantly pull my eyes away from the Professor while Jake spoke, so he was a Alpha Kappa, not surprising really.

"Yeah, I think so. My roommate mentioned it."

"Oh good, I'll see you there then. Jessica." He smiled, standing from his seat.

"Jess." I corrected him. I hated being called Jessica, it was so formal.

"Well Jess, I'll see you around." He winked at me as he pulled his backpack on to his shoulder.

There were still a couple of girls taking up the Professor's attention and I wasn't sure yet whether I wanted to sneak past or wait to speak to him. I thought about it for a minute my fingertips drumming against my desk when the girls left and he was alone. As soon as the door closed, his gaze was on me and I could hear the silence in the room like a ringing in my ears. We stayed like that for a couple of seconds, staring at each other, no one saying a word until her cleared his throat. I blinked a couple of times, realising how stupid I must look before getting up from my seat and packing my things away.

"Did you need to talk Miss Watson?" I could hear amusement in his voice as he sat back on his desk casually, his arms folded across his chest.

"I erm…" I walked towards him, my legs feeling like jelly all of sudden and trying not to fall down the stairs. "I wanted to apologise, I had no idea you were a Professor." I said as I reached the bottom of the stairs, I didn't know what to do with myself but I was nervous about getting closer to him. He made the atmosphere feel tense, like if I was to reach out and touch him I would burn my fingers so I stood awkwardly at the bottom of the steps.

"There's no need to apologise Miss Watson, I also had no idea you were a student but I was hoping to bump into you again. Funny how things work out isn't it?" He cocked his eyebrow at me, still looking amused as he watched me squirm. When he said he'd been hoping to bump into me again it made me feel more confident, like I wasn't imagining the way he'd been looking at me for the last hour.

"I think fate can be rather cruel Professor Hemsworth." I smiled at him as I finally closed the distance between us, watching his eyes flare with hunger when I called him Professor.

"Oh really? Why is that Miss Watson?" His eyes narrowed, his Adams apple bobbing in his throat as I got close enough to touch him, I didn't though. I didn't dare break that boundary, not yet.

I smiled at him through my lashes, biting on to my lip. "I was hoping to bump into you again too, only now the thought of what could've happened will have to remain a fantasy." Wow! I was not expecting that, did I sound like a slut? Shit. I looked back up at him and caught him gulp, that hunger in his eyes shining, his pupils blown with lust, he loosened his tie even more and I caught a glimpse of his smooth chest and chickened out. The tension was way too much and I was about to do something I was going to regret, I could live with being a huge tease instead.

"I better get to my next class, we can't have anyone thinking I'm your favourite now can we?" I smiled to myself when I noticed the muscles in his jaw tense as he ground his teeth together. Turning to leave I looked back over my shoulder and his eyes were glued to my hips, watching them sway as I walked and I realised I had him exactly where I wanted him but was it worth the risk?

#smut #chris hemsworth #chris hemsworth fanfic #chris hemsworth smut #chris hemsworth x reader #chris hemsworth x you #chris hemsworth x oc #chris Hemsworth x ofc #chris Hemsworth series #thor series #thor smut #thor x you #chris Hemsworth #chris hemsworth fic #chris hems x you #chris hems x oc

[codes-and-stuffs]

running list of cool fic title ideas from jlp:

get ready this shit is LONG

overture

[wait all of these come later anyway. moving on]

right through you

- i see right through you

- i walk right through you

[okay no this one was pretty short asjdfg]

all i really want

- i don't mean to pick you apart, you see (but i can't help it)

- (and) it would knock me to the floor if i wasn't there already

- consumed by the chill of solitary

- i'm frustrated by your apathy

- why are you so petrified of silence (here, can you handle this?)

- the sound of pretences falling all around

- or did you long for the next distraction?

- and i have no concept of time other than it is flying

- all i really want is some peace, man

[this one was Rich with ideas tbh :)]

hand in my pocket

- i'm sane but i'm overwhelmed

- i'm lost but i'm hopeful

- what it all comes down to (is that everything's gonna be fine)

- no one's really got it all figured out just yet

- i'm sad but i'm laughing

[lots more i'm this but thats in there i'm not writing them all salfdkg]

smiling

- barely remember who i failed

- this is the first wave of my white flag

- keep on smiling, keep on moving, can't stand still

- such pretty forks in the road

- life flashing promise before my eyes

[damn this one was poetic]

ironic

- a death row pardon (two minutes too late)

- life has a funny way of sneaking up on you

- it's like rain on your wedding day

[this one was so specific i couldn't get many tbh]

so unsexy

- oh, these little rejections, how they add up quickly

- i can feel so boring (but i say that i'm just fine)

- your hand pulling away and i'm devastated

- am i just living with myself?

[there's quite a few in there but i don't want to sound like i'm saying the same thing five times pff]

perfect

- if you're flawless, then you'll win my love

- don't forget to keep that smile on your face

- (with everything i do for you) the least you can do is keep quiet

- i'll make you what i never was

- if you're the best, then maybe so am i

- you'll make up for what i blew

- we'll love you just the way you are (if you're perfect)

[either this song has a lot of great lines or i just relate to it too much]

lancer's party (so pure)

- let's be outspoken, let's be ridiculous

[that's it for this one sorry lksajdfkg]

that i would be good

- that i would be good even if i did nothing

- i need to know that i would be loved (even when i am my true self)

- that i would be loved (am i loved?)

- that i would be good even if i lost sanity

- i would be good (whether with or without you)

[there may be more along similar wordings]

wake up

- you like snow, but only if it's warm

- it's easy not to (so much easier not to)

- there's an obvious attraction to the path of least resistance

- this could get messy (but you don't seem to mind)

- what goes around never comes around to you

forgiven

- we make up for so much time (a little too late)

- we all needed something to cling to (so we did)

- we all had delusions in our head

- what i learned i rejected (but i believe again)

- i have my reasons to be here

- we all / i still have a thing or two to learn

[powerful song tho like the Vocals!!]

not the doctor

- i don't wanna be the filler if the void is solely yours

- (i don't want to be berated for) simply doing my best to reach you

- mind the awkward silence (with our backs toward each other)

head over feet

- you've already won me over in spite of me

- don't be alarmed if i fall (head over feet)

- i've never felt this healthy before

- i've never wanted something rational

unprodigal daughter

- to imagine myself bolting had not been difficult

- this train cannot move fast enough

- these unfettered years

- one day i'll look back and feel something other than relieved

predator

- your system of madness (to mimic connection)

- my goodness is commendable but won't pull your heartstrings

- you kept me off balance [with your charming deflection]

- what started as union turned to isolation

- and you are obsessed with your prey

[this song tho?? like damn. banger]

you oughta know

- i wish nothing but the best for you both

- you told me you'd be there until you died (but you're still alive)

- it was a slap in the face, how quickly i was replaced

- and i'm not gonna fade as soon as you close your eyes

- it's not fair to deny me of the cross i bear (that you gave to me)

- i hate to remind you [of the mess you left when you went away]

uninvited

- i am disturbed by my fascination with you

- to watch the stoic squirm

- (must be somewhat heartening to watch) the flawless fall from grace

- i've had my moment to deliberate

mary jane

- you never seem to want to dance anymore

- well it's full speed baby (in the wrong direction)

- please don't censor your tears

- you're the last great innocent (and that's why i love you)

- so take this moment and be selfish

- keep warm, my dear, keep dry

[very much softer than the past few songs i think, most love song in t this musical i would say]

no

- my sorrow is laughed off, my rage discounted

- my fears are founded

- and i've sat with these secrets (i'm no longer willing to)

thank u

- no pressure for you to let me in

- how about how good it feels to finally forgive you

- these are no times for the weak of heart

- thank you for seeing me

you learn

- the caution blocks you from the wind

- you wait and see when the smoke clears

- i recommend getting your heart trampled on

- you live, you learn

- you grieve, you learn

[and similar. yas that's it :) okay that's actually a lot LOL]

#fic title ideas #codes codes #made this list for me ^^ #but free for anyone to use ofc ofc i own none of these lines

[blitheringmcgonagall]

My Gallant Lad - Part III

So I got a wonderful anon telling me that this is their favourite Lily Rescues James fics, it’s part of my canon maraders fic  We Can Be Heroes. But, because it works as a stand alone, I’ll be posting it here in four parts. I hope you enjoy it! Set during first wizarding war, Lily is very BAMF (but tbh so is James)

Read part I here : After their worst row ever, Lily and James get captured by Voldemort

Read part II here : James tries to save Lily

TW: angsty and violence

PART III

Lily’s raw voice echoed through the castle walls, a lone, hauntingly beautiful gaelic song. The words indecipherable to any of the Death-Eaters who heard it, yet clearly a lament of some kind. She hadn’t been able to stand it, hearing James’ screams, imagining what was happening to him. And when she couldn’t hear him, dread clawing at her every pore, wondering…

Are you dead, my love? Did they kill you? Please don’t die, I beg you!

Haunted by the silence, almost relieved when his screams returned, because she was selfish and wanted him alive, needing him to be alive… almost immediately replaced by rage and terror and guilt and begging them to leave her husband alone, screaming herself hoarse.

She couldn’t stand it when the sound from the dungeons suddenly stopped – a spell, she was sure.

What did it mean? Was he-

She started to sing. She sang in Irish. Fuck them, no Death-Eater could get inside her head now. She pictured him as she sang, her lively lad, turning around mid-laughter and catching her eyes as he and Sirius poked fun at each other, she saw him saying something ridiculous to Minnie and watching as the strict teacher’s mouth broke into a huge grin despite herself, saw all the Marauders chasing each other and yelling and James landing on top of the others. And always his mischievous, adoring eyes turned to her, searched for her. She saw him propose to her surrounded by fireflies, vividly heard that muggle record, the lyrics bittersweet…

”Yours in the gray of December Here, or on far distant shores I've never loved anyone the way I love you

Yours to the end of life's story”

“No!” her voice faltered. “No! Not today!”

She breathed in sharply, as someone knocked on the door, twice, in abrupt succession. She recognised that trademark sound.

“Severus?” she croaked.

Severus pushed the heavy door slowly, almost reluctantly, now that it came to it. He looked uncharacteristically agitated, his waxy cheeks flushed. Relief swept over him as he looked at Lily. She looked upset but safe. She was shackled to the wall, her hands above her head, tied together. She was trembling and pale. There was no sign of the Cruciatus, or other dark magic.

“Are you alright, Lily?” He said, hurriedly throwing a potent heating charm at her.

“What are you doing here?” Lily’s husky voice surprised him, he hadn’t heard her screaming.

“What happened? Did they hurt you?” Severus said, moving closer to Lily and regarding her anxiously. “They hurt me by hurting him,” she whispered.

Tears tracked down her cheek, and Severus wiped it with his thumb. “I’m so sorry, Lily,” he said, his voice trembling – he was slightly scared of her, and then there was unexpected guilt - guilt about lying, guilt about how James was going to die. “I tried to... I tried...”

He stopped and took a few breaths, looking at the ground.

“I tried to save him, I tried some healing charms and... and I sent the others away. I wasn’t sure what to do, Lily, but then I was called away and Avery had... I was too late, Lily, I’m so sorry.”

He couldn’t look at her.

“No, Sev, please, not James, please,” Lily’s broken whisper made Severus’ heart ache.

“I’m so sorry, I’m... you don’t know how sorry I am,” Severus whispered back. “I’m desperately sorry.”

Lily didn’t say anything, silent tears streaming down her face.

“He... James and I, he spoke to me, he thanked me for trying to save him, before he... he asked me to save you, to get you out of here. I promised him I’d do it. Do you understand Lily?” She was looking at him blankly, through her tears, her mind far away in some distant time or place. “Lily!” Severus whispered urgently. “Lily, he wanted you to be safe! He insisted I save you! He told me a code word - I’ve no idea what he meant, but he said to tell you - Graham’s Number.“ “Graham’s Number,” Lily repeated quietly, as though dazed. “James.” “Yes, James,” Severus said, trying not to sound impatient. “We have to leave now, I promised him I’d get you out of here! Do you understand?”

Lily nodded, still crying.

“My beautiful,” she said. “My gallant lad.”

“Yes, yes,” Severus said, eying the door of the cell. “We need to leave! Now! If Voldemort finds us, we’re both dead!”

Lily stared at him intently. After a few seconds she smiled vaguely.

“I’m so sorry Sev, let’s go, I just... it’s so much to take in, you know? I can never thank you enough, for trying to save him, for being such a noble person?”

Severus squirmed.

“It means everything to me,” she said, her red-rimmed eyes looking into his soul.

“It’s nothing,” he said firmly, refusing to hold eye contact and pointing his wand at the chains. “Frangit!”

The chains broke, and Lily collapsed into Severus’ arms.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “Can you help me? I don’t think I can walk?”

“Of course!” Severus said, feeling a bloom of warmth spread through his chest.

This was what he had longed for, desperately, for as long as he could remember – Lily, holding onto him, needing him, weaker than him, reliant on him, asking him, begging him for his help. He tucked his wand in his pocket and lifted her up, looking lovingly into her stunning eyes. Surely she could also feel the deep attraction between them, the passion sizzling beneath their fingertips?

“Lily,” he murmured, bringing their lips closer.

“Severus?” she said hoarsely.

“I love you, Lily Evans,” he said, holding her closer. “I always have.”

“Your idea of love sickens me, but I’m glad you’re so predictable, Severus.”

Lily’s voice was cold as she stepped back from him in disgust, and he found himself staring at the tip of his own wand.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he said, his heart pounding as he tried to make sense of what was happening.

“Change of plan, Snape!” Lily said. “You don’t get to sweep me away like a lying bastard-“

“Your husband agreed to this! It was his idea!” Severus’ voice rose.

“Gobshites, the pair of you!” Lily said, her voice quivering with rage. “Probably one of the only things you two ever agreed on - that James Potter should sacrifice himself to save me? That James Potter was expendable, that I would cope without him?” Severus dropped his gaze in the face of such fierceness. “You see, I’m not leaving here without James. If he’s dead, and you better hope to fuck he isn’t, I’m still bringing him with me. He means more to me than anyone else, everything else, in the entire world. I’m not leaving my soulmate to rot in this hell!”

Severus looked at her hand with trepidation as she aimed at his chest.

“I was trying to save you, Lily,” he said, stepping away from her.

“Trying to save me for yourself, Severus! Killing my husband was never going to buy you my love!” Lily’s green eyes were incandescent.

“I didn’t… I had no part in it, it was Hugo Avery!” he said.

“No part at all? That’s strange,” Lily sneered. “Because your friend Hugo payed me a lengthy visit which only finished a short while ago, you practically overlapped.”

Snape’s eyes widened with surprise and alarm.

“He wasn’t meant to go near you!” he said.

“He did,” Lily said, shuddering despite herself. “Came in to tell me everything he was planning on doing to my husband, and later on, to me. It took rather a long time.”

“What do you think you’re-“ Severus said in fear, as Lily lifted his wand.

“I’m sorry, Severus,” Lily’s voice was hard and implacable. “Imperio!”

Continue reading BAMF Lily here

Snape’s eyes widened for a split second as the invisible spell hit his chest (so powerful it almost threw him backwards) before they seemed to fade, the fear in them replaced by a dullness.

His hands fell by his side. “Is this castle surrounded by anti-apparition wards?” she asked.

“Yes, and the nearby forest,” Snape answered mechanically.

“Where can we use a portkey?” Lily ordered, poking Snape with her wand.

“From the courtyard in front of the main entrance.”

She hated the strange empty look in his eyes, as though he was unable to think for himself and devoid of any thoughts at all, until commanded by her to do so. She hated it.

“Good,” she said. “Now you will do exactly as I say! You will bring me to the oubliette, and you will help me save my husband if it’s the last thing you do! But first, you will bring me to your potions lab!”

                                                             ********

“Step away from Potter, now! I’m taking over!” Avery’s head jerked upwards in shock as Snape landed with a heavy thud right beside him, closely followed by Lily Evans, who had a glazed look in her eyes.

“She’s under the Imperius,” Snape added, glancing around at the other men.

“Snape?” Avery said, glaring aggressively at the half-blood. “What the fuck are you doing here? You said I could finish him off?”

“Change of plan!” Snape said, sounding furious. “Back the fuck away from him now, or you’re a dead man!”

“What?” said Avery. “Why?”

“The Dark Lord wants to take over torturing Potter and Evans himself, he needs to find out about his missing book. He will be livid if Potter is dead or unable to answer him! I mean murderous.”

Avery looked terrified.

“Fuck! Snape, you said...” Avery whispered hoarsely.

“You fool, you should have thought to check with your Master before you went this far! If I were you, I’d make myself scarce, unless you want to face the Dark Lord’s wrath!” Snape hissed.

Avery had never seen Snape look so imposing, so powerful. He looked like he wanted to obliterate them all.

“Shit! I... but what if he asks who...” Avery stammered.

“I’ll cover for you as best I can, but I suggest you leave until he calms down, unless you want to risk being here when he loses it,” Snape said, looking at Avery as though he detested him.

“Fuck. Okay. Thank you, Cerberus,” Avery said, frantically grabbing his cloak and stepping across James’ body as he latched onto the rope ladder and sped upwards. “Fuck Voldemort, I hate that bastard!”

Nobody answered, aware that Avery was extremely unwise in voicing his feelings about the Dark Lord’s unpredictable behaviours.

“Severus, you moronic shit,” Severus said between his teeth. Mulciber and Rosier snorted, enjoying Snape’s irritation. “You two better help me get Potter looking more presentable and less dead, unless you too want to join Avery and get AK’ed to hell!” Snape whirled around menancingly. The two men looked at him blankly.

“You don’t think the Dark Lord is actually going to forgive Avery, do you, you pathetic fools?” Snape scoffed dangerously. “Throw every healing spell you can think of at this traitor, and I’ll see what I can do for you two imbeciles!” Rosier cleared his throat and looked stunned. Mulciber glared at Snape.

“We hardly did anything!” he said. “You probably did more of the Crucios than we did!”

“I presume you haven’t forgotten that the Dark Lord is an extraordinarily gifted Legilimens?” Snape smiled thinly, sticking the tip of his wand into Mulciber’s abdomen. “He’s going to die of blood loss, not of Crucios, obviously, you fool! Care to tell him yourself the extent of your role in this… shambles?”

Mulciber’s lips thinned and he shook his head.

“Thought as much,” Snape replied smugly. “Mulciber, get me the blood replenishing potion immediately. Rosier, give me a hand here – Vulnera Sanentur over his entire body, Brackium Emendo over his ankles, quickly!”

Rosier nodded his head and started firing healing spells anxiously. Snape did the same, deep in concentration, his wand flying over James’ body. Mulciber reappeared moments later, holding a half-empty bottle of dark red liquid. Snape grabbed it off him wordlessly and carefully placed three drops into James’ mouth, scanning his face anxiously. Blood trickled from James’ right ear.

“Still looks pretty moribund to me,” he muttered to himself, touching James’ hands tenderly.

James’ fingers felt frozen, white, almost blue.

“Perhaps Rosier should come with you?” Mulciber asked, inching backwards towards the rope ladder.

Snape’s lip curled.

“Don’t be pathetic, Rosier is a liability, and far too skinny to be able to lift Potter. I need you with me,” he ordered.

Mulciber opened his mouth.

“The Dark Lord specifically asked that you accompany me,” Snape said. “He said he may need our help in questioning Potter, that’s if he isn’t already dead by the time we get there. We need to hurry!”

Mulciber swallowed.

“Now help me lift Potter, and for fuck’s sake be careful, he’s perilously close to death as it is!” Snape said.

#ha! #BAMF Lily #she is mad as hell #watch out #part IV soon #angsty jily #defying voldemort #Jily #canon jily #BAMF Jily #not for you if you like Sn*pe #stand alone story #from we can be heroes #WCBH