#You can't just pick one cringe thing to exclude

[polariswiss]

hey so cringe culture is dead applies to therians and otherkin bitches and all the like too. You Cannot Pick and Choose

#my posts #cringe culture #cringe #cringe culture is dead #therian #therianthropy #otherkin #otherhearted #alterhuman #copinglink #You mfs who still dog on bitches w spiritual beliefs really suck #OR WHO ARE JUST COPING? #You can't just pick one cringe thing to exclude #don't be a religiophobe . or anti-religious. OR EVEN STILL #Like. literally ableist. do NAWT #but whatver #it's so hard being a swag ass kitty sheep werewolf computer robot thing 😒 #but i digress

[muddyorbsblr]

man of the month part 7: july & august

Series Masterlist @mochie85's Masterlist See my full list of works here!

Summary: Shaun tries to convince you of Loki's feelings; Steve tries to convince you to have feelings for him; Sam tells you what you need to do with your feelings for Loki

Pairing: Loki x Reader (eventually)

Word Count: 5.4k [get some wine ready]

Warnings: red flag MrSatchel; cringe nickname; Steve can't take a hint; language

Things to be aware of: mutual pining; idiots in love

The screams of Thor's adoring fanbase picked up once again when the blond oaf walked out of your studio still without a shirt and showcasing his bulky exaggerative muscles. Outside of the photography studio, the remaining men who hadn't had their appointment with you yet were seated by the various seats strewn about the common area, with Loki still prominently at the front of the entire group, occupying the seat closest to the studio door.

He looked at his brother with significantly less apprehension after their exchange earlier today during his shoot with you. I am on your side. I only wish for you to be happy. Even after all this time it was such a foreign concept for him to be on the same side as Thor after centuries of being framed as each other's opposition.

Still, however, this particular set of circumstances somehow felt as if they were finally taking the steps to heal the scars, both known and unknown, that their strained relationship held. Their mother would have been proud if she were watching over them from Valhalla right now. 

Thor threw a look his way. "Well obviously it is not me," he said without a trace of resentment, a gigantic smile stretching across his face. "But I know who it is." 

Those words sent a frigid chill down Loki's spine. "She told you who it is?" 

The look on his brother's face grew proud, and yet unarrogant. "I figured it out," he stated jovially. The two men from California had jointly muttered something about welcoming him to the club, making him smile and give the two a knowing thumbs up. 

Deciding that perhaps he could save himself the anguish of going through this same exercise for a few more days as you finished up the appointments for everyone's photos, Loki approached his brother. "Just tell me who it is, Brother. Spare me the agony of waiting only to find out it isn't me after all."

The blond god gave him a look of mock offense. "Loki I will do no such thing. There are no shortcuts when it comes to matters such as this." His look softened when he saw the visible frustration on his brother's face, however. "I will tell you this, Brother. The super soldiers will most definitely be the most persistent in their efforts. I suggest taking Lady Y/N up on her offer to visit tomorrow. Just in case our dear Captain will be too disbelieving when she inevitably rejects his efforts." 

So it isn't Rogers, Loki thought to himself. And if my brother is giving me a forewarning to look after her upon Barnes' appointment as well, then he knows that it's not him, either. She and Wilson are friends and he's never shown any visible interest in her beyond that despite the time they've spent around one another, which excludes him from the possibilities as well. And Banner is borderline fatherly to her, much like Stark.

His heart pounded in his chest as he let out his running hypothesis. "The only ones left are Strange and myself." 

Thor clapped a hand down on his brother's shoulder. "Very good, Brother. You're catching on." 

The schedule for today had you on edge. Scott's words of 'the serum boys having it bad for you' made you nervous about being in the same room as Steve for potentially more than a few hours, assuming he tried to stretch out the photoshoot for as long as he could. You booked him early on in the day, and gave Sam a heads up to be ready in case you finished early.

Hopefully that had been enough of an indicator that not only did you know about what was going on with the men on the team and their intensions toward their respective appointments with you, but that you did not reciprocate the attraction that Steve supposedly had for you. 

Perhaps in the back of your mind yesterday afternoon, you'd thought of your appointment today as well when you extended that invitation to Loki to stop by if ever the spirit moved him. Part of you hoped that he wouldn't just take you up on that offer throughout the duration of the shoots, but that he would do so today. 

Funny how you were apprehensive to be in a room alone with the hundred-something year old veteran who could break a log in two with his bare hands, but you were unfazed over being in such close proximity to the thousand-something year old god who could easily snap the soldier in two with just his mind if he so wished. 

"Suppose I'm just stupid in love," you muttered to yourself in the empty studio, your eyes widening at your words. In love? Was that really where you were now? Sure, you'd harbored a mad crush on him for the longest time, but for those words to just come naturally to you after the last few days caught you off guard; however, you couldn't exactly say you were surprised at the turn your emotions had taken. It wasn't as if it was so unfathomably difficult for someone to find themself in love with the raven-haired god; in fact it came all too naturally to you. "Fuck." 

"That's a whole mood." Your gaze snapped to the door to find Shaun walking in with a plate in his hand. "Bacon and cheese muffin. Figured I should get one into your studio before Thor ends up stealing your piece." You let out a chuckle just as your stomach obnoxiously grumbled as the scent of the bacon and cheese hit you. "Looks like my timing was perfect today," he said with a laugh as he set the plate down on your desk. "You want some company?" He looked over to the near empty coffee mug next to the plate. "Or a top up?" 

"I wouldn't say no to both." You smiled at him. "Thanks, Shaun. You've been…really cool about all this and--"

"Hey, don't even mention it. I'm just glad we get to be buds. Honestly I was convinced that after the whole thing with my shoot that Loki was gonna mess with me every time he saw me even go near the door--"

"There you go again with your Loki conspiracy theories," you groaned. "I'm telling you. You're seeing things that aren't there."

"And I'm telling you that you're refusing to see things that are there," he shot back, an amused smile stretching across his face, chuckling as you rolled your eyes at him. "Tell you what. I'll prove it." He picked up your mug and started walking out the studio. "Gimme two minutes." 

"What in the actual--" you muttered to the now empty studio, shrugging off Shaun's latest antic and opting instead to start picking at the savory pastry he brought for you. Not two minutes later, a thrill ran up your spine as the next voice you heard was definitively not Shaun's.

"Y/N?" You were helpless against the smile that tugged at the corners of your mouth when you looked up and caught sight of Loki walking into your studio, your little Heckers & Salutations coffee mug looking smaller than it actually was in his hand. "Xu had to attend to something with Lang and my brother and it seems he'd forgotten that he was supposed to bring this back to you," he explained as he placed the mug back on your desk next to your plate.

"Thanks," you squeaked, trying to consolidate him being here with what Shaun said about 'proving it'. Before you thought too hard about it, however, you stopped yourself. As beautiful a picture it would be if the god loved you back, it was nothing more than that. A beautiful picture. A tantalizing dream.

"Darling?" Your heart thumped in your  chest at the nickname. "Are you alright?" You looked up at him, trying desperately to hide the longing in your eyes before his keen observance caught sight of it, answering him wordlessly with a nod. "You seem…apprehensive," he prodded, concern seeping into his tone as he perched himself on to the stool next to you and gingerly taking your hand in his. "Is it your morning appointment?"

Dammit, how did he know? you hissed inwardly. You nodded slowly again. "It's--stupid, I know. It's just…ever since Scott told me about 'the Serum boys' I haven't exactly known how to…" You struggled to find the words as his thumb started to rub the back of your hand in slow circles. "I don't know how to act around them…with them. Because I don't know if they would misunderstand that for reciprocation. It's not exactly the easiest thing being around someone you know has feelings for you that you don't feel the same way for. Just like how it's agonizing to be around someone you dohave feelings for when you know that they don't see you that way, nor will they ever and--and I'm rambling, uhm…sorry," you mumbled into your coffee.

You felt a lump in your throat as he gently touched his fingers to your chin, tilting your head to look at him. "You aren't stupid for having your reservations. Unreciprocated affections can turn one into something else entirely, and while I dare not assume that it would happen to anyone on this team, I would not rule it out, either." His hand squeezed yours slightly before he spoke again. "If at any point in this morning's appointment, or any of your appointments, you begin to feel a disquiet  in you, I will be right outside. Just call for me."

Your heart began to swell at his words. "Really? You'd do that?" 

His other hand moved from your chin to tuck your hair behind your ear. "Darling, I've been there this entire time." 

"So you believe me yet?" 

You looked at Shaun as he gave you a little smug smile as he helped you setting up the plain light-colroed backdrop as well as draping a large black tablecloth over a table for Steve's shoot. "I don't wanna talk about it. Maybe you're on to something and I've been stupidly blind. Maybe you're not and you're just having a bad case of shipper brain. I'm just trying to get through this shoot, Xu." 

"Right right," he muttered, his smile fading. "You want me to check up on you? Like maybe half an hour after the shoot starts?" 

"Holy shit you'd do that?" Relief began to flood your system knowing that you didn't have to find a way to go outside and call for Loki, making up some excuse to even exit your studio if ever things went south in this shoot. 

"Yeah, Scopes, of course! We're buds now. We gotta look out for each other." He threw his arm around your shoulder and pulled you into a playful headlock. "I'll put on a timer after he gets here. When the timer goes off I'll head over here with some lame excuse about lunch or something and if you're in need of help, give me this hand signal…" He pounded the table with his fist once, then snapped his fingers, and did a shaka sign. "Do that, and I'll call in the big guns." 

"Wait. Big guns, you mean--"

"God-tier backup. The kind that's been stationed outside your studio day in and day out making sure you're okay." You rolled your eyes at him again. "Just calling it like I see it." 

You jumped at the sound of a knock on your studio, bringing you back to the present moment. "Right then. Looks like it's time," you told Shaun with the most cheerful tone you could muster. "Start that timer, please," you muttered as softly as you could, your tension easing when you saw him do exactly that on his phone. 

"Relax, Y/N," he told you softly, patting your head. "We're right outside. Everything's gonna be fine." With that, he let you go and walked out your studio as you were walking back to your desk to finish your coffee.

"Hey, Scopes," you heard Steve greet you as you were drinking your coffee. "Or should I say…heckers and salutations," he finished with a chuckle as he motioned toward your mug. 

"Mmmph, no--" you protested. "That just sounds weird when someone actually says the words. Too old-timey. Even for you." 

Your words made him break out in a hearty laugh, but something in the sound felt too strained to you. He sounded something akin to a schoolgirl flirting with the quarterback trying to laugh at his joke in order to stroke his ego. So that maybe later she could stroke something else after the game.

It didn't sit right with you. But regardless, you made an effort to seem like you paid his attempts at stroking your ego no mind. Making it obvious that you were unfazed by his reactions, his presence.

"That was a good one, Y/N," he sighed as you put the strap of your camera over your neck, giving you one of his well-practiced Captain America smiles that always had his fangirls swooning where they stood. "So it's as naked as I'm comfortable with, right?" 

You swallowed hard, willing the lump in your throat to ebb. "Yup. I'll--turn around. Lemme know when you're ready." 

He took a step toward you as he untucked his button down shirt from his slacks. "I'm comfortable with whatever you're comfortable with," he told you with a seemingly good-natured smile. 

The whole sequence had a knot of tension settling in your stomach, slowly moving higher and higher as if you were about to retch and see your breakfast again. You strived to maintain your composure and answered him with a tight-lipped smile. "That's not how this works, Captain. I don't determine the degree of nakedness you're supposed to be comfortable with around me. That's all you. I just take the pictures." 

He looked at you with eyes that were teeming with fulsome intent as he undid the buttons of his shirt. "Then I suppose this shouldn't be an issue, since I hope that after today I could be quite comfortable with you." 

Those words sent a chill down your spine. "Excuse me?" you trembled, your voice suddenly dwindling down to something that could be likened to a church mouse. 

"Y/N, I'm sure that by now you know that I like you." You could have sworn the temperature dropped a good ten degrees as the words escaped him, goosebumps breaking out all over your arms as you were suddenly filled with this urge to run. 

If you did, though, would he block your way? And if he did, then what? 

The answer came to you awfully fast. I would scream. Loki's right outside. He'll hear me. 

You took a deep breath, your hands gripping your camera tighter in an attempt to get them to stop shaking. "Listen, Cap--"

"Please, Cookie, call me Steve." Something in you recoiled at the nickname he'd taken to calling you. There were only a few names you were partial to being called. Tweety by those close to you. Scopes to the rest of the world.

The exception to that rule being Loki, the only one whose head you didn't want to chop off whenever he called you Darling. 

This name, however…this one you had to nip at the bud. Nobody deserved to be called that…unless they actually wanted to be. 

"Captain," you insisted. "I'm aware of what Tony told you guys…about me having feelings for someone on the team. And, while I am flattered that you found yourself attracted to me…I'm sorry but I just…" You sighed, deciding you  had to rip off the bandaid in one go instead of tiptoeing your way around what you eventually had to tell him anyway. "I just don't feel the same," you said in a rush.

Your urge to flee grew stronger as his confident smile faded into a grim line on his face and he assumed an almost combative stance like he used in the training rooms or in the field, straightening his stance and squaring his shoulders. "It's not me?" he asked, his tone coated with incredulity. 

"It's not," you pressed on. "Listen, you're attractive and I'm sure the good-natured boy scout thing with the blond hair blue eyes clean shaven look does it for so many women, but…just not me." As his eyes darkened when you uttered those last words, you felt the need to murmur, "Sorry." 

"And you're sure?" 

"Pretty sure," you shot back, doing your best to bite back the sarcasm you usually would have answered that with. "I'm sure you'll find someone." You tried to take on a more comforting tone, as if you were trying to console a friend, even though at this moment he felt like anything but.

"Why?" The tone he'd taken on had become interrogative, demanding an answer instead of deflection, and it inevitably irritated you that he was acting this way.

"Because you're not my type," you answered with a bit more bite in your tone, the irritation seeping into every word. "I'm in love with someone else. And I'm sure that's hard to understand for someone who's so used to girls just falling all over him ever since you put on the stars and stripes, but you don't have to understand it. You just have to respect it." 

"So who is it then?" 

"That's none of your business." You were beginning to find your voice again; your body, however, still wanted to shrink. Or flee. Anything other than freeze, but you found that that was all you could do. "Your only business is that it's not you--"

"There's five of them left." You willed your face to remain expressionless other than the visible annoyance upon the assumption that he was about to list them all down trying to get you to tell him who he "lost" to. "Is it Sam?" 

You kept quiet.

"Banner?" You fought the urge to roll your eyes at his childishness. "Bucky?! Did I really just lose again to my best friend?" 

"Captain, stop this," you tried to plead with him. "Come on, be mature about this. Let's just take your picture, and we can move forward from this." 

"Is it Strange? It's the facial hair, isn't it? Or the magic?" You sighed sharply. You willed the time to go faster, for Shaun to check up on you already. "Ohh for heaven's sake!" He circled around in place, hands on his hips, taking a few more steps toward you when he faced your way again. "It's Laufeyson!" 

You couldn't stop yourself. Your neck twitched at the sound of his name.

"Jesus Christ, Y/N, really?! The guy hates everyone! He even hates his own brother. He destroyed so much--"

"He brought you all together," you hissed. "He gave you all the chance to be informed. To be prepared. Tell me, Captain. Do you genuinely believe that if he hadn't come here in 2012 and you hadn't all come together that first time, that the world would have stood a chance when Thanos attacked?" 

"Every member of this team was on this world long before Loki landed on Earth," he argued petulantly. 

"Yes. But you wouldn't have been a team," you bit  back. "Nobody in this team would be here right now. I  wouldn't be here right now because there wouldn't even have been a team to work with. So don't you go around parading your high morals telling me that his destructions outweigh his contributions. He has made amends for his indiscretions time and time again, so nobody is in any right to hold the events from ten years ago over his head." 

"So it really is him, huh? You wouldn't defend him like this if it wasn't." 

"Yes I would." You tilted your chin up defiantly at him. "I don't like bullies." 

With the look on his face, you may as well have slapped him with those words. "I'm not--"

"Hey, Y/N…" You looked toward the door to see Shaun with a poorly veiled concerned look on his face. "Just checking to see if the shoot's gonna be done soon and ask if you wanna check out that new Mexican place that opened a few blocks from here. I've got a craving for some chimichangas." 

You plastered the most casual smile you could muster on your face as you answered him. "Uhh…yeah, we should be done in a bit." You gave him the hand signal, making his eyes widen the slightest with clear alarm. "I'll see you when we're done." 

"Sure thing, Scopes…" he trailed off, the tremor in his voice so evident to you as he backed away from the door. "Captain." 

"Xu," Steve answered him with a practiced smile, giving a salute his way. Then he turned back to you, his stance rife with defensiveness after your last words towards him. "I'm not a bully, Y/N. I just can't understand for the life of me why you would choose him--"

"What? Over you?" you fumed. "And for the record, I am not choosing anyone. I'm in love with someone. Okay? They're on the team. And other than that, it's nobody's business. Your only business is that it's not  you. So can we please just take your picture and we can move on from this?" 

"So you won't even consider anyone--"

"I believe the lady already turned you down, Rogers." Relief flooded your system at the sound of Loki's voice floating into the studio, the sound of the cadence of his steps nearly feeling like a warm blanket fighting away the chills that had broken out throughout the course of this exchange. 

"Stay out of this, Laufeyson. This is between me and Y/N." 

"Based on what I heard from this exchange, there is no 'you and Y/N'," the god shot back, placing a hand on your shoulder, choosing to maintain a considerable distance from you. "And as far as I know, this is her studio. Her space. She's told me that I am welcome to stop by throughout the duration of this project. The only one with the authority to send me out of here is her." He turned his gaze away from the veteran and towards you. "Do you wish for me to leave?" he asked you in a comparatively softer tone.

Your immediate answer was of course you didn't, but you knew that he didn't particularly like spending his time around other people; hell, he barely tolerated spending time with his own brother. Why would he want to pass his time with you? "I don't wanna trouble you," you muttered in response. 

"Sweetheart," he sighed, your heart jolting at the new nickname. "You could never trouble me." 

"Then I'd like you to stay," you said quietly, the lump remaining in your throat but now for an entirely different reason. Was he really so willing to stay with you through another shoot after he'd just done so yesterday? Was that actually a sliver of affection in his tone earlier as he called you Sweetheart? 

Holy fuck. Was Shaun right? 

His brows furrowed as he moved his hand from your shoulder to your upper arm, surely feeling the goosebumps that erupted from your exchange with the persistent Captain. "You're cold," he whispered, moving quickly to shrug off his cardigan and place it on your shoulders before rubbing his hands up and down your upper arms over the thick fabric. It was all you could do not to sigh and lean in to his touch. 

The sound of an impatient huff brought you back to reality. "So can we please just return to the matter at hand, Captain?" you addressed Steve again, noting the visible irritation radiating from him as he kept his gaze fixed on you and Loki. "If you could just go over to that table in the black set, and we can get started."

"Y/N, I just don't get it," he said with a raised voice, spinning in his spot again. "I'm a good guy—"

"Everyone on this team is a good guy," you pressed on. You raised an eyebrow at him as you emphasized, "Everyone."

He glared at you, then at Loki. "I'm a gentleman!"

"Not today, you're not, you little punk." Your gaze turned to the door to find Bucky sending a severely disappointed look Steve's way. "If you really were you wouldn't have to shout it at the top of your lungs, people would just know." He turned to look at you. "Scopes, I'm really sorry if I knew he was going to behave like this I would have stationed myself as his parole officer." 

"It's alright," you answered him. "Like you said, Bucky, you didn't know." 

"Steve, do what she says," the metal-armed assassin instructed the now sulking Captain. "You've wasted enough of her time with your entitlement." When the Captain finally followed, you could feel the remainder of the tension leaving your body, feeling infinitely more relieved by the moment knowing that this particular shoot would soon be over. 

The shoot itself didn't last fifteen minutes, the awkward atmosphere creating an environment that was so tense you could almost feel that the two super soldiers just wanted to exit the studio as soon as possible. You faintly heard remnants of Bucky conversing with Loki, thanking the god for calling him as soon as he'd heard about Steve acting out. 

The information took you aback. He'd approached Bucky? Voluntarily? You were always under the impression that he found the two soldiers intolerable, that he would rather sit through one of Tony's self-aggrandizing two and a half hour long speeches than be in a five minute conversation with either of them. 

"Alright, I think I have what I need," you said loudly for the benefit of everyone in the room, standing up and walking away from the set you'd prepped with Shaun not even two hours earlier so that you wouldn't have to look at Steve a moment longer than necessary. With those goddamn puppy eyes that were putting you through an unwarranted guilt trip even though he was most definitely the one who should feel guilty for making you feel like you needed the backup of his best friend and your--

And Loki. Not 'your' anything. Just Loki, you thought bitterly. 

In the end, Bucky ended up choosing the shot that would go on for the July layout, reasoning that the Captain shouldn't be anywhere near you until he's had a chance to cool down and realize that he most definitely owed you an apology for cornering & interrogating you the way he did. And that he owed Loki an apology for shit talking him behind his back, too.

"I'm really sorry again for Steve's behavior, Scopes." Bucky's tone had been rife with remorse and secondhand embarrassment as he lightly nudged at your shoulder with his hand. 

"Your bestie needs to learn how to handle rejection," you remarked, giving him a small smile to show him that you didn't hold anything against him for how the other super soldier had chosen to act around you. "I'll uhh…see you in a few days for your shoot?" 

"You can count on it." He pointed a finger at Steve. "You. Training Room. We're gonna spar. Give me a reason to beat some sense into your idiotic head." 

After grabbing lunch with Shaun, Nat, and Wanda, it was time for Sam's shoot. That had gone exceptionally better than your previous appointment. No checkups and no backup needed, just two friends laughing away the entire shoot and the entire premise of Tony's proposition toward the other models. 

"Can you imagine their disappointment if I go out and tell them 'I win y'all!'?" he pondered, chuckling as he posed for another picture in the same set that Steve had been in this morning. "Nah…Horns would probably rip my head off and mount it on his wall if I did." 

"Come on," you grumbled from behind your camera, giving him a hand signal to turn slightly to his right. "Loki wouldn't do that." Although from the aura he had during the exchange with Steve earlier, you were almost convinced that he would. "What would he care if it was you?" 

"Uhh…Tweety, he'd care," he insisted. "Because it would mean that it's not him." 

"Alright, Big Bird, what aren't you telling me?" 

"Do you honestly not know that ever since this entire thing started, he's been in the front of the group whenever the shoot ended? Looking like he refuses to let oxygen enter his cocky ass lungs until whoever walked out tells us all that it's not them?" You furrowed your eyebrows together in confusion. "Motherfucker you really didn't, huh?" 

"Dude you kinda sounded like Fury for a second there. I mean…I never heard him say the word, but it kinda feels like something he'd say when he's alone, you know?" 

"Don't avoid the question, Tweety. You really didn't know that that's what's been going on these last few days?" You shook your head at him as you signaled for him to stand by the window instead, letting the wall of the studio be his backdrop instead, which he quickly complied with. "Y/N if I didn't know that you had it bad for him, I'd feel sorry for the guy." 

"Wait wait, hold up." You put your camera down on the ground so that you could give him a proper look. "You know?" 

"You're obvious," he said simply. "At least to me. And I just want you to know this. If his shoot comes up and he doesn't take the opportunity to shoot his shot? That's his mistake. Just don't make the same one." 

"What do you mean?" 

"I mean, little Tweety bird, if he tries to be all proper Asgardian gentleman on his shoot, it's on you to climb him like those trees you always do when we're on a mission, and go for the kill shot." He emphasized his point by bucking his hips and making a slapping motion with his hand, making you break out in a maniacal bout of laughter.

"You fucking dork."  

Hearing your laugh bleeding through the closed door simultaneously made Loki's heart swell and ache as he sat outside waiting for Wilson to exit your space despite him already knowing that the outcome of this shoot would be a negative as well, based on his conversation this early morning with his brother.

On the one hand, he was relieved that your mood had taken a turn for the better once your appointment with Rogers had concluded. And hearing evidence that this current appointment was much more lighthearted than the last had him breathing easier for it meant that he need not be concerned for your safety while you were alone with the veteran soldier.

On the other, however, hearing your laugh made him ache and yearn for you, finding himself once again wishing that whenever he found himself alone with you, the atmosphere did not feel as heavy as it always did. As if you felt that if  you spoke one word out of line he would cut you down. It made him wonder if that sliver of hope that he was holding on to that he'd be the one you so boldly stated in Rogers' face that you were in love with was truly him holding on to nothing.

He found himself picturing how completely shattered his heart would be once Strange's appointment came up and the vain former Midgardian healer turned sorcerer emerged from your studio, a triumphant smile on his face, as he declared for the entirety of the team that you were his. Would he be able to handle seeing you the next day, on his appointment? How comfortable would he be around the very woman who'd unknowingly destroyed him? Would he even tell you about his affection? 

No, he answered himself resolutely. He would keep his emotions a secret if that be the case. He would wish you well, and hope that the sorcerer would treat you with the respect and devotion you deserved. 

"I only wish for you to be safe and happy," he muttered into the emptiness of the common area. "Even if you do not find that with me, my love." 

A/N: Never thought I'd be writing Steve with them "I'm a nice guy!" vibes and yet here we are…whew. 🥴

Next 2 chapters will be written by Mochie and I can confirm…there's an extra little surprise for the next chapter that'll have us all 🤣 in our seats

Now…I'm off to write for the requests pile again because I'd like to have some good progress done on this before requests open up again in less than 230 followers 😳👀

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[syscoursehell]

my biggest bone to pick with pro-endos is that the majority of what i’ve seen them say when it comes to issues that they face pretty much all revolve around (mostly internet) invalidation and exclusion, to the point where i’ve seen some endos say that at least we (DIDOSDD anti-endos) are recognized as “the real ones” or like “well fakedisordercringe is laughing at all of us anyways you don’t look any better in their eyes” (the latter was a post semi recently in the syscourse tag and the former was an ask on the syscourse confessions blog). not trying to call out any particular person with this, just that it very clearly shows how unaligned the goals of pro-endos vs anti-endos are. and it blows my mind that they seem to think that not only being recognized as a DIDOSDD system is a GOOD thing, both online and offline, but that it means you’re immune from getting fakeclaimed harassed etc, or that it’s a good thing that FDC laughs at us too in the end. like, i don’t want to be “validated,” and being fakeclaimed over the internet is an annoyance to me at worst, and i don’t want to be unconditionally and radically accepted and included for everything because that leaves no room for me to potentially be wrong or grow as a person. and tbh this is why i think there’s no broader “plural” community because there’s a complete misalignment between the endo community vs the DIDOSDD community, and we as anti-endos know this by now because so many DIDOSDD systems have come out about how endo bullshit harmed them. sorry to dump a novel in your inbox lol it’s just been on my mind

Yep. they're also ignoring the fact that a lot of people who wind up on FDC are minors, who probably aren't safe being recognized as having DID/OSDD/UDD in their household, even if they have a therapist or have been professionally recognized. It doesn't make us feel valid, it just sucks. I've also had friends/mutuals from other platforms wind up on there, and the harassment they face is fucking horrific on a level you wouldn't believe, not to mention winding up on cringe comps just for being mentally ill on the internet. They don't see that people don't believe us. They don't believe that we exist, or they believe that we're too rare to be real. It's an uphill battle to get people to even listen to us, and it's exhausting.

Adding onto that, though, you're absolutely right. They want internet validation and inclusion, even if it excludes others. They can't seem to wrap their minds around the fact that being a system is so much more than just alters, so they build a community around one facet of the experience and push themselves into this anti-recovery mindset of "I don't need therapy, because my system isn't traumatic" even though having a system in of itself is only born out of trauma. Hell, a lot of them act like every psychiatrist/psychologist/therapist in the world is evil, so they surround themselves with the anti-psych community and ignore actual scientific facts about things that do, in fact, matter and need scientific backing.

I'm not saying the psych system is good. It's not. It sucks and needs major reform, and my personal experiences with it have been less than stellar. But that's no excuse to act like every professional who knows their shit is out to get you. There are good doctors out there. There are good, helpful people in this field who want nothing more than to see people thrive.

I also absolutely get your point. Blind inclusion and acceptance leaves no room to grow. It's not a foundation for lasting changes, and it actually behaves in quite the opposite manner. It makes it difficult for people to change when they realize what they're doing is wrong, because they've become comfortable just being accepted without any sort of questioning, or being asked to think about their stances. Not to mention, when all your friends are part of that situation, it makes it so much harder to leave.

Also, being diagnosed can lead you to getting more medical stigma in the future. I have BPD. I was not diagnosed by a former therapists choice, because if it was on my chart, that would make so many medical professionals treat me differently. It would make my life harder in the long run. But that doesn't mean that I think people shouldn't get diagnosed, quite the opposite. I just think that people need to be able to get the help that they need.

This is a tangent turning completely incomprehensible, but that's my thoughts. Thanks for the ask!!

#syscourse

[aquafaith]

My lengthy, angry ACOSF rant review.

Spoilers, TW for mental, emotional, physical, and sexual abuse.

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.

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I loved ACOTAR. I still love ACOTAR. I always will love ACOTAR. But every book afterwards made me give up more and more. ACOMAF romanticized an abusive relationship and assassinated characters for the author's convenience. ACOWAR was a bunch of boring and inconsequential death scares. ACOFAS was all-round dreadful. And each book kept shitting on and pushing away Lucien for no reason.

I'd like to preface this by saying I hated Nesta too. I hated the way she treated Feyre in ACOTAR especially, and I wasn't even too excited for this book because I wasn't that keen on Nesta as a character.

Nesta's POV and her backstory changed my perspective. It does not excuse her actions. All Nesta stans can hold these characters accountable for what they do - trauma is a reason, not an excuse. I, and many others, sided with Nesta because of the way she's treated by everyone else in this book. Also, if you're going to hate Nesta for not teaching Feyre how to read and letting her hunt at fourteen, (which I did, and are very valid things to hate), AT LEAST hold Elain accountable too.

This book. This fucking book.

Shall we start with the intervention? Feyre on her little power trip thinks that her boyfriend that hates Nesta and Nesta hates back, Nesta's ex-best friend, and her possible mate who she never talks to should be at this stupid fucking intervention??? Excuse me???

Remember in ACOMAF when Feyre wouldn't shut up about how rich Rhysand is? Feyre literally has four or five houses and is always talking about how much jewelry and lingerie she can afford because Rhysand is so rich??? Well, Nesta has a few shots. So you know what Feyre does? Humiliates Nesta at this "intervention", TEARS DOWN HER HOME, and forces her to go to the Illyrian training camp.

That was the god awful premise for this book.

Did you think Elain wasn't there because she was against the "intervention"? Nope! She was packing Nesta's belongings without permission.

Remember in ACOMAF when it's made a big fucking deal that locking up a traumatised woman is extremely damaging? Well, when Nesta decides she doesn't want to be in Illyria, Feyre locks her in the House of Wind. Nesta can't fly, so her only way of leaving is down the TEN THOUSAND STEPS, that Feyre KNOWS Nesta isn't capable of climbing.

Feyre's pregnant. In ACOFAS she randomly decided that she wanted a baby to remember Rhysand by if he dies. Which doesn't make any sense because they made that stupid fucking death pact in ACOWAR. It's just SJM superimposing her pregnancy onto her early 20's protagonist. Ignoring the fact that Feyre isn't ready for a baby and Rhysand CERTAINLY isn't, and with a war just ended and another looming and so much trauma and a DEATH PACT are all such horrible circumstances to bring a child into, Feyre is already pregnant. Remember when SJM made a big deal about Fae babies being so hard to conceive, and Feyre said in ACOFAS they wouldn't have to worry for a long time because it can take years to conceive your first Fae child? Well it's been no more than 3 or 4 months and Feyre's already pregnant. Yep.

Also the birth will kill her. Because of course it will. Rhysand KNEW this, and still agreed to try for a baby.

There's no solution. Abortions don't exist for some stupid reason, and a C section would apparently kill Feyre?

(Wasn't this book supposed to be about Nessian?)

In ACOWAR, Cassian was on the battlefield with his entrails around his knees. Someone had to literally hold his guts in for him, and he's fine, but you're telling me a C section would kill Feyre?

Don't worry, this is just setting up the AWFUL ending to this book.

ACOSF amounts to Nesta being gaslit into believing her abusers are right. Her friends and family slut shame her and shame her for her lifestyle constantly. Cassian says it took him decades to work through some of his trauma, and he tried to drink and fuck it away too, but suddenly when Nesta does so it's heinous? Nesta's barely twenty five and she's expected to cope better than these ancient immortals.

Hell, didn't SJM write ACOMAF? Nobody expected Feyre to pick herself up so quickly. The IC (excluding Rhysand) respected her boundaries for the most part and understood when it was grief, trauma, and turmoil that made her angry, sad, want to be left alone, etc. But that's all forgotten here.

Amren also compares Nesta to the people in, and says she belongs in, The Court of Nightmares. You know, the murderers, abusers and rapists? This innocent woman who had a few shots and a bit of sex is on par with them, apparently!

The sex scenes.

SJM is scared to say vagina so she says sex.

She says seed to mean semen.

Apparently the word cunt turns SJM on. I just found Cassian saying that kinda cringe because I'm Bri'ish so the word cunt really isn't a big deal.

Back to the baby killing Feyre, because this is definitely what we all wanted from this book as indicated by the change in covers and format and title... Rhysand decides not to tell Feyre. He tells her friends and family, and tells them not to tell her.

SJM loves sweeping Rhysand's abuse from the first book under the rug and claiming it's always about Feyre's choice... where is that here, MAAS? WHERE IS IT?

Anyway, when Nesta rightfully decides to tell Feyre (although it is kind of out of spite), Rhysand threatens to kill Nesta.

And I believed him. With the way he treats his """mAtE tHaT hE lOvEs sO mUcH""" and all the people he's mindlessly killed before, do you really think he wouldn't kill the person who gave Feyre an inch of autonomy?

So what does Cassian do? His lover who he cares deeply about and suspects is his mate has received a death threat from tHe mOsT pOwErFuL hIgH lORd iN hIsToRy.

Cassian simply gets Nesta out of the court.

EXCUSE ME?

He doesn't breathe ONE word to Rhysand about this. This Illyrian WARRIOR who fought with his GUTS HANGING OUT didn't dare step up to the hIGh lOrD who he considers his brother and sparrs and fights with all the time?

Cassian literally does nothing.

Was it not Rhysand himself who said Mated males are dangerous? Can kill anyone who looks at their mate? Can be dangerous simply leaving the house? Rhys and Feyre both pull the Mate card to justify their bad actions on the other's behalf... and Cassian just tried to get Nesta out of the court?

Also, this High King bullshit.

I swear to fucking god, if SJM DARES to make this abusive, power-tripping, mOsT pOwErFuL hIgH lOrD eVEr, husband-insert of hers hIgH kInG, I will fight her in the street.

My beloved Lucien is in this book. Only for him to be used and shat on.

I really liked it when he calmed Cassian down with just a look though. Yes please fox man.

Helion is also in this book. Nothing to do with Lucien.

Eris is also in this book. ERIS. Lucien's eldest brother. The same one who abused him for years, but according to SJM he's slightly better, because at least he didn't agree to kill Lucien's lover. He betrayed his daddy that one time, therefore Eris is good. Y'know, the same Eris who abused Mor? Left her laying on the Autumn Court border with a nail in her womb? Well SJM is going back on her own canon to redeem yet ANOTHER abusive male, while continuing to demonize Tamlin for things he only happened to do when SJM decided the villain from the first book was sexy.

Nesta and Cassian are Mates.

Remember when Mates were supposed to be a rare and sacred thing? Now SJM dishes them out like Oprah.

I don't want these characters to be mates. I want to see them slowly fall in love. But SJM is incapable of writing that so she forces them together with the mAtInG bOnD. That's literally the only basis for most of these relationships, Feysand especially.

The only relationship where the bond would make sense is between Helion and The Lady of Autumn. Who still isn't named. But I will die on the hill that they're mates, I can feel it between them.

I wanted someone to die in this book. I predicted that it would either be Helion or Tarquin, but Tarquin isn't even in this one.

And the ending.

SJM can't write a decent climax, so she kills both Feyre and Rhysand for the second time. Yep.

The baby is being born which stupidly kills Feyre, and thankfully takes Rhysand with them.

Nesta decides to save them. Bad choice. But she decides to save them! Because she's so powerful and she ATE THE CONTENTS OF THE CAULDRON and she's CONNECTED TO THE MOTHER.

Do you know what happens.

Nesta loses her powers.

NESTA.

LOSES.

HER.

POWERS.

The powers we've hardly seen, the powers that were briefly mentioned and used ONCE in ACOWAR, then we saw like two flashes of in this book? They're GONE now. GONE SO NESTA CAN SAVE HER ABUSIVE SISTER AND ABUSIVE HUSBAND WHO ABUSES THEM BOTH.

Nesta is just an Amren now. They both fought for their powers, and had to give them up to save people who didn't deserve it. Now they're anticlimactically trapped in powerless bodies.

Also, and I can't BELIEVE I didn't originally include this - do you know what else Nesta TRADED HER POWERS FOR?

Illyrian anatomy so she can carry Cassian's baby one day.

EXCUSE ME?

I am so fucking SICK TO DEATH of the narrative that every woman needs a man and children to be happy. SJM clearly loves this because she's literally only keeping Amren and Nesta alive now to be sex objects to their partners and nothing else seeing as their POWERS WERE RIPPED AWAY FROM THEM, and now NESTA TRADED THOSE POWERS TO HAVE A BABY SHE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW SHE WANTS? Nesta does NOT strike me as a motherly type. She's the wine aunt, she and Cassian are the couple that go on holiday a lot and and babysit their nieces and nephews, but nope. Nesta HAS to have children.

The Feysand baby is called Nyx. That's just so underwhelming, you go from these huge, multiple syllable names like Amarantha and Morrigan and Lucien to Nyx? I get it's supposed to be unique but it's not even meaningful. It's just more shit-flavoured icing on the hAHa nIgHt uWu cake. I prefer Renesmée.

Nesta is wrong somehow. She says she's sorry as she's saving them. FOR WHAT? For being a little rude to Feyre as all sisters are? And rightfully hating your sister's abuser?

Oh yeah, remember in ACOWAR when Nesta took care of a comatose, starving Elain for months? Elain is randomly okay now because she takes care of her mental health the stereotypical way of baking cakes, and not drinking and fucking, which she shames Netsa for.

Remember the slut shaming, demeaning comments that the whole iNnEr cIrClE made about Nesta? They all expect apologies from her. For some reason.

Nesta has done nothing wrong. She coped with her trauma and minded her business in her own ways, and she's expected to apologise to the people who control and emotionally abuse her.

Nothing that any of these characters did to Nesta is right. Nesta wasn't okay at the end, this wasn't Nesta's healing story. This is Nesta being shamed and degraded until she submits.

Oh I can't believe I forgot to write this in my first draft of this review, do you know how Nesta "overcomes" her grief about her Father's death and her conflicting feelings about him and his life and her guilt? When she visits his grave for the first time, she takes Nyx.

NYX.

She holds NYX up to the grave and talks about how it's his grandson.

GO AWAY YOU STUPID DEMON BABY THIS IS NOT YOUR BOOK.

Speaking of, it's revealed that Nesta was abused by her mother and grandmother in this book? Something we were all looking forward to is seeing more of the Archeron's mother seeing as Feyre was so young when she died, but... nope. She gets a few vague mentions, and this newly revealed abuse is entirely glossed over. Nesta was also actively groomed by an older man at 14. But SJM glosses over this because of course she does.

Finally, the bonus chapters.

My edition came with a bonus chapter from Feyre's POV. It was pointless and I hated it.

There's another bonus chapter from Azriel's POV. Once I'd finished this book, he was one of the few characters I still harboured a shred of respect for.

Then I read his bonus chapter.

This exists to purely objectify Elain.

Whether you ship Elain with Azriel, or Lucien, or neither, this chapter is disgusting. He thinks about her coming on his tounge, and other things simply just to please him.

He then dares to suggest that "the Cauldron picked wrong" in choosing Lucien as Elain's mate?

No Azriel, SJM picked RIGHT in not giving each Archeron sister a bAt bOy.

Rhysand does the only right thing he's ever done by telling Azriel to stay away from Elain, but then he has to ruin it by clarifying that it's only so they can manipulate and use Lucien more.

Oh, and Azriel wants to kill Lucien.

Need I remind you that Lucien respects Azriel? Lucien is another victim of the Night Court's needless, baseless torment, and Azriel is no exception.

Lucien stays well out of Elain's way because she makes it clear that she's not interested in a mate, but Azriel wants to kill him simply for being her mate.

Lucien has done nothing. And I mean literally NOTHING to warrant any of this treatment. From the bAt bOyS, from Feyre, from his family, from SJM, from the deluded part of this fandom that think he's done wrong. NOTHING.

All I liked about this book was the Lucien scenes (which is a given), ((although I hated the way everyone talks about him behind his back)), Nesta's relationship with the house, Emerie and Gwyn, the evidence that Gwynriel is endgame and subsequently Elucien, and the book love. Everything else was horrible. Oh, and Nesta hates Rhysand. I love that for her, because everyone else bows at his feet.

Oh yeah, when Nesta DARES suggest that Rhysand is an "arrogant, preening asshole" which I think is a compliment, Cassian can't take Rhys' cock out of his mouth for one second, and has to get mad at her for having an opinion. Don't even get me started on Azriel in that scene.

If each book after ACOTAR made me slowly give up, this book made me give up altogether. I cannot go on to support this victim-blaming, abuse-forgiving, misogynistic series. I've given up on SJM, and the only characters I care about anyone are Lucien, Nesta, Helion, and Tarquin. I'll continue to read this series to see if SJM redeems herself, but I'll be downloading them for free. I'm not giving this piece of shit any more of my money.

I hope we don't get the Lucien book. I don't want her to slaughter my fox in the way she slaughtered LITERALLY EVERYONE ELSE.

Thanks for listening.

Edit: I put the review on Goodreads!

#anti acotar #anti acomaf #anti acowar #anti acofas #anti acosf #anti sjm #anti feysand #anti rhysand

[adamfoolcry]

of coffees and holidays (d.sc)

pairings: Ballerina!Sicheng x CafeOwner!FemReader

rating: 13+

warnings: swearing

genre: angst and fluff

synopsis: Your and Sicheng's love story in five coffees with varying degrees of sweetness spanning five Christmases.

word count: 3k+

a/n: for @127-mile, I hope I did justice for your prompt. Hope you enjoy reading it. Happy Holidays! 🎅 Thank you to @neoculturechristmas for organizing such fun event. It can be read in chronological order if y'all wanted to. I promise it's a happy ending. Not proofread so please excuse the mistakes, I am so dumb. Please reach out to me if you would like to do so. - xo aria

Christmas 2019 - Espresso

Outside as flakes of snow fell from the sky, like a light shower of glitter from the heavens, the elusive holiday spirit seemingly present in the air; you watched a young couple huddled together to share warmth, fingers intertwined, cheeks glowing red partnered with coy smiles on their faces, and a family of three in admiration of their son as he showed off his Christmas gift. The streetlights emitting an orange glow providing an aura of softness, making everything come together to form a picturesque scene.

Heartwarming as these scenes were, they failed to evoke any emotion out of you; if anything you feel excluded from it entirely. To you the world behind the cafe's glass windows is just a film you're screening in the cinemas, and you were nothing but a mere spectator. You continue to stare listlessly at the throngs of people passing by until they all mesh into a blur of colors your eyes couldn't catch fast enough. That's better.

Inside the cafe although decorated with trinkets for the holidays there was an air of sadness permeating every corner and seated itself onto the furnishings. Lately it seems like sadness is following you around everywhere - like a shadow - and instead of trailing behind you it looms over you shrouding your every thought until it completely consumes you.

No one stepped foot inside the cafe and with no one to entertain your mind drifts to him. Sicheng.

How many days has it been? Since you last saw him. You've lost count, a lie you tell yourself to make the dull ache in your chest bearable. 

It's a torture how you could recall that day - the day you lost him - so vividly as if you are forced to relive it every time the silence eats away at your resolve; to tuck the moment into the deep recesses of your mind, where it can't hurt you. When every little thing reminds you of him, his favorite spot at the cafe, black turtlenecks and that undeleted grainy picture of his sitting in your gallery. 

You could never forget the look on his face, resignation etched into every crevice of his features, a forlorn smile on his lips. 

"I see," he said in a bittersweet tone before he turned his back at you. 

The slam of the door is the nail that hits the coffin. Sicheng is gone. He has already walked out of your life. That was the last you saw of him for he never visited the cafe again.

A month passed by when Sicheng called you. Your heart leaped as his name flashed on your screen and your thumb shakily pressed the answer button; afterwards lifting it near your ear.

There was no greeting as he uttered in his low voice that you have missed so much, "My flight to Russia is this Saturday." 

Your heart sank.

"I want you to see me off, ______." 

Don't go please stay with me but there are certain thoughts that weren't meant to be put into words so instead, "I'll be there." You reassured him.

But you never showed up at the airport that Saturday. Instead, you were at the cafe staring at the screen of your phone blinking on and off as a wave of notifications with his name flooded your phone. Why make things harder? As if him leaving wasn't hard enough. You pressed the power button long enough to shut down your phone.

The following days passed away into months that's a haze in your mind. You can't recall anything worth remembering. You quickly filled up your schedule with mundane tasks just to have something to do filling every gap of your vacant time. 

At night you fell straight to bed, your body collapsing from the physical strain you have subjected it with. Establishing a packed routine without idle time so you don't have time to linger on the dull ache in your chest - always there like a festering wound. This works until you find your list of chores unexpectedly accomplished earlier than you planned, the cafe shrouded in still quietness. 

Alone with nothing else to do the dull ache amplified to a crippling one and it bites you right back in your face, forcing you to acknowledge the hollow feeling that seems to reside in your chest permanently. Your eyes would be heavier, your vision blurry, trying to blink away the tears but ultimately failing as it trails down your cheeks; you clutch at your chest because it hurts and you regret that the last you'll see of Sicheng is that face of hurt he wore.

Christmas 2016 - Vanilla Latte

You placed the cup of vanilla latte sitting on a saucer on the table daintily, pushing the saucer across the wooden table towards the customer, avoiding to make any noise. The customer seemed so engrossed with the novel he is reading - nose almost touching the pages - that you don't want to disturb him. 

The said customer is a regular, there was not a month that he hasn't visited the cafe. Showing up five minutes after you flip the signage to open, with no fail not even a minute late. 

Wearing all black from head to toe, a tall lithe figure, and an androgynous facial structure, your guess is that he works as a model. Even now without trying he is captivating; he makes the cafe look like a set for a magazine spread just by lounging in the matching cherry wood table and chair, and you can't help but stand there and shamelessly stare at him. god really has his favorites.

His work must require him to travel to different countries and have photoshoots in scenic spots, oh how you wish you could also jetset to other countries. Packed schedule for the day that he doesn't have time to think about what he is going to do next. That is a luxury you don't have especially in the ber months for there is a decline in customers and with no one to entertain, your mind goes on an overdrive pondering on uncharted waters of how you have nothing else going for you but run this cafe.

Aside from his penchant to wear all black, read a novel while drinking his choice of beverage - choice of beverage you ask? - you see the other peculiar thing about this man is that he doesn't have a 'regular drink'. Most if not all people who go to a cafe know what they are going to order before they have set foot inside. This man doesn't, his eyes would flit on the menu, scanning from left to right and back again. It is almost ritual like, this would go on for a good minute or two as you drum your fingers on the counter waiting for his order. 

The snow is falling outside covering the otherwise grey pavement white, decorations for the festivities hung around the four corners of your quaint cafe. Yet here he is, nursing a cup of coffee instead of being somewhere else. Doesn't he have a family? to celebrate Christmas with?

"Can I help you?" The man said, turning his face slightly in your direction not quite yet abandoning the book in his hand.

"Ohh uhmm-" you were jolted out of your trance, startled you took a sidestep only to collide with the chair where a large unzipped duffel bag was placed. The contents of the bag spilled over. 

"Shit! I am sorry." You quickly knelt to the ground to pick up the scattered items on the floor, the man joined you. Charger, earphones, epsom salt, bandage, and tiger balm ointment as you picked up the items you also increasingly grew baffled. What a weird assortment of things. You reached for the item that somehow managed to get under the table and as your fingers came in contact with the rough material of the cloth you learned that your assumption of his job was wrong. A man's canvas ballet shoes.

I thought he was a model.

"What?" The man questioned. You wince to yourself you just didn't say that out loud. You emerge from under the table to find that the man was looking at you too intently for your liking. His eyes sought out yours waiting for an explanation and as if you owe him one you started explaining yourself. 

"Well, you are tall and extremely handsome so .." Cringing as the words flew out of your mouth. The man chuckled at your confession, a tell tale sign of a smile on the corner of his lips.

"I am flattered really but as you can deduct by now I actually do ballet." He rose to his feet and offered you his hand to help you stand up. 

Unlike other days where he will leave the cafe after an hour or two, this time he stayed and unlike other days where you find yourself alone in the cafe; you find yourself enjoying the company of this mysterious man. 

Where you quickly learned that all your presumptions about him have little truth in it. You learned that his name is Sicheng, and he is a principal dancer for the Korean National Ballet company not a model although with his looks he might as well be one. Yes, he travels but mostly for tours and performances. He practices an average of eight hours a day. 

Your fascination for his life spurred the conversation as if you were friends catching up with each other. With the book set aside and the contents of the cup long empty you two didn't notice how much time had passed. He bid you goodbye with a promise to visit you again tomorrow. As you watch his retreating figure getting smaller, the snow piling on top of each other over the glass windows of the cafe there was a smile on your lips - the warmth of a newfound friendship is akin to a good cup of coffee - making you warm from the inside out.

Christmas 2017 - Cappuccino

"Surprise me," Sicheng said leaning on his hip at the counter, arms crossed on his chest, when you asked him what he would like to drink. Standing there he looked like the culmination of your dreams.

Maybe it's the iridescent lights from the numerous christmas lights that flickered on his face making him look more exquisite or the grin he gave you after. You did surprise him but not in the way he was expecting and to be honest you are also shocked by your sudden brazenness as you lean in to kiss his plush lips. The kiss didn't last long, a little more than a peck but long enough for you to regret it.

"I .. I am sorry," you stammered burying your heating up face in your hands, embarrassed. You didn't even see Sicheng's reaction, was he appalled? You peeked through your fingers to find out, when Sicheng started laughing, tipping his head back a little, eyes crinkled in mirth, his right hand covering the half of his handsome face. 

You want nothing more than to shrivel up in one corner. He started tugging at your wrists, pulling your hands away from your burning face.

"Mind giving me more of that surprise?" The corner of his lips curved upwards, nose slightly crinkled, and you wished to etch his face to memory.

Christmas 2018 - Americano

He was late, you glanced at the clock hanging on the wall, it is now 11 P.M. and soon Christmas will be over. 

The americano you have prepared already cold, his untouched while yours halfway finished. It's fine though because you know that this will be the first of the many Christmases you have to spend without Sicheng. You must get used to spending it alone again. 

Musing to yourself your mind quickly took a trip down the memory lane of his last visit to the cafe before he got on tour with the company for one of the holiday stage productions. 

--------

You have only heard the thud of the door as it closed on its hinges. You are currently cleaning the countertop back bowed and eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you meticulously scrubbed at the stubborn grease that won’t budge, lifting your head to do the customary greeting, when something or rather someone barreled straight to where you are, engulfing you in a tight hug that shoved you headfirst into that someone’s chest your nose burrowed deeply into the black cloth. 

Recognizing the intoxicating scent of light musk and citrus, relief flooded you as you hugged Sicheng back. You don't know how long the two of you stayed in that position basking yourself with his warmth just a little longer.

He's real, he's here a safe and solid presence by your side. You can count by one hand the things that have endured with you throughout the years, other than the cafe which you have run since your mother got sick, dropping out of college to keep it going. And one of those is Sicheng you've found in him stability and comfort your past partners can't give you.

Sicheng pulled away putting some distance between the two of you, his arms naturally falling at his sides. He was wearing one of his brightest smiles, the apple of his cheeks high and pronounced on his face.

"_______, I've been offered the position of principal dancer at Bolshoi Ballet in Russia," He can't help but smile again clearly enthusiastic with the prospect of joining one of the most prestigious ballet companies.

It took you a moment to answer settling with an unconvincing, "Wow." You don't know how to react with his news, but you feel dread in the pit of your stomach. You don't like the idea of him leaving. You try not to let it show in your face.

"I know. I was also surprised." As if sensing the change in your demeanor he asked concerned, "Is something wrong, ______?" 

"Nothing let me whip you a drink I found from the net," you brushed him off with a wave of your hand. 

----------

"Hey _______, I am sorry there was some minor traffic that held us back," Sicheng announced his entrance that broke your reverie. Setting his duffel bag on the floor to sit on the opposite chair facing you.

His hair tousled, cheeks rosy and nose red but despite his healthy complexion you can also see the pronounced bags under his eyes with a tinge of violet. He looks tired and in dire need of rest. Yet he headed straight to the cafe instead of his apartment. 

"Sicheng I've wanted to tell you something," perching your arms on the table to fiddle with the ear of the cup.

"Yeah?" Sicheng asked, staring right at you.

"I think," you cast your eyes down on the table, and with a small voice continued, "we should break up." 

"You think?" 

"I mean we should"

"Why?"

"I ... it's just that it will be easier for you." Your hands started gesticulating in the air.

"Don't give me that bull shit. You are not the judge of that," Sicheng replied in a cold manner.

"It's just you have this life before me and you'll also have a life after me." Your voice cracked, and you gathered your strength to look at him. "I am grateful that you have been a part of my life. You are crazy talented and right now the world opens up in front you and you deserve better. I can't give you that I ..-," clutching at your chest, "I am just me."

"It's nice to know that you think of me as some temporary phase in your life and here I am fool enough to think that maybe you'll want to come with me to Russia," a cruel laugh slipped from his lips, "christ, I can't even choose what coffee I'll be having and finally for once in my life I've never been so sure of anything," voice trailing, "but us.

"So I'll still ask because I know I will regret it, if I don't. Do you want to come with me?" Sicheng pierced you with his eyes, wearing his heart out on a sleeve. Leaving himself unguarded and hoping you'll come through.

But you have never been brave. "I'll stay and you go."

"I see," he said in a bittersweet tone before he turned his back at you. 

Christmas 2020 - White Chocolate Mocha

"I told you Renjun you don't have to do your shift at Christmas." You look up to reprimand Renjun, and instead are met with familiar feline eyes that seem to see right through you. There stood Sicheng looking like an intricate piece of art displayed in the museums. It is more painful to look at him than anybody warned it would be. It hurts how familiar you are with him still dressed in black - turtleneck and slacks, his trusty duffel bag hanging on one shoulder, he's still the same but now you are nothing more than a past fling to him.

"Hey," Sicheng walked towards the counter greeting you.

"Hey," you shake your head from the trance that took over you, "Oh I'll make you something."

"I'll have a white chocolate mocha." Slightly surprised by his request it took you a second to start preparing it.

"When did you come back?" You inquired as you moved about to prepare his drink.

"Yesterday night" 

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Would you have fetched me?" He asked nonchalantly.

You momentarily stiffen evading to answer the question you throw another at him, "How are you? Is Russia treating you well?"

"Can we cut the crap out? As much as I love dancing, I don't like dancing around in circles. I've come back for one reason only." 

"Will you come with me to London?"

Looking at Sicheng standing there - after how much you have hurt him - you thought you will never see him again and you have long accepted that punishment. You are not brave and you will never be but

"Yes, I'd love to go with you."

what you have with him is worth it.

a/n: Read more of my works for NCT here:masterlist

#winwin angst #winwin fluff #sicheng angst #sicheng fluff #nct-writers #neowritingsnet #cznnet #kpopscape #winwin imagines #winwins scenarios #wayv angst #wayv fluff #nct fluff #nct angst #winwin x reader #dong sicheng #winwin wayv #winwin nct #winwin x y/n #sicheng x reader #nct scenarios #wayv scenarios #winwin fanfic #neoculturechristmas

[lucky4in]

Magic Interferes in New Orleans

Prompts from Piccadilly's book #3

Words used: ☆matriarch ☆throat ☆impossible ☆vinegar ☆apology ☆slice ☆microwave ☆raspberry ☆choose ☆snore

God! I can't take it. The dread is killing me. I'm losing all the blood in my fingers with how tight I'm squeezing the steering wheel. The honking around me is not helping. I can feel everyone's fear collectively as we sit in agitated traffic. Stress. Fault. Jitteriness. Indifference. Panic, panic, panic.

God, I hate being an empath. I can't even hear my own thoughts. I need to breath! Yeah. Take deep breaths. I'm not far from the U-turn lane. So what if traffic is moving 1 millimeter a minute? The storm can't be faster.

Hooooonk!

Beepbeep!

I have to get out of this situation before I have a sensory overload.

From my front and my rear, I'm surrounded by vehicles. I can't move back, I'll hit someone. I can't move up, because they'll think there's space to move and I'll be more stuck than before. Looking to my right I realize the road across the gate is fairly empty. That last car I saw go that way was 40 something minutes ago.

I gulp loosening my grip from the wheel but still holding it firmly in my palms. Taking a breath I turn the wheel and step on the gas. My car races through the grass and crashes though the metal gates. With a screech, my tires are finally rolling and I'm off. Towards the dark clouds like a fool running blindly into a lions den.

When I finally catch sight of the curling palm trees and the flying debris, my weariness is replaced by anger. We had a plan. A simple schedule. Prepare emergency food, water, and medicine, flashlights and documents, locate nearest shelters, fill up gas tank, clear the yard, and turn off the power. When the evacuation order is set, I would be too far away at the time, so my husband would get the kids from home and we...would...evecuate.

Evacuate.

We would meet at the nearest shelter with our separate cars...

Unfortunately, my...sweet...dearest mother decided to take it upon herself to pick up the kids herself...and NOT evacuate. Instead, she wanted her grand babies to feel safe during the storm and cook them a nice meal...at her house.

I almost had a heart attack when my husband said they weren't there. Instead, a note was attached to the fridge reassuring us that my elementary school kids, including a baby, did not infact disappear off the face of the earth. She wants them to feel less threatened and stressed over this "flood nonsense". Make it seem like a regular thunder storm.

Except it's not a thunder storm! It's a hurricane!

I told my husband not to worry about it, I will get the kids and be ok. The hurricane is suppose to be a bad one, the weather man said. Anything left undemolished by the storm by the end of this would be a miracle. Hopefully it won't be my sanity. I swear, she's impossible.

By the time I get to her house, the streets are flowing with water and clawing up her driveway like waves at a beach. I step out and my shoe kerplunks into the water. I groan, feeling my ears eject hot steam. I stomp onto her porch with a squish, squish, squish and jam the key into the lock.

I kick the door open and slam it shut, my anger seeming to accelerate as soon I step inside. I cringe a bit, noticing my youngest asleep on the couch.

"DON'T SLAM MY DO-" my mother sticks her head out through the kitchen doorway and spots me.

"-Oh, hi baby!"

I stretch a tight smile, coaxing my child back to sleep. "Hello, mother."

"You came just in time. I just need to get a few things done before we eat."

And there she is. Like always. Not worrying about a thing while marinating apple cider vinegar on peices of pork. Probably to slice into the-

Sniff, sniff.

-gumbo. Her calm persona was infuriating. Almost insulting.

"Too bad my son in law couldn't be here. He'd love to stuff his face with the beignets" she continues.

"He's at the shelter. Kinda like we're suppose to be" I say, honey tounged and all "which begs the question..." I lean in, my palms face down on the table. "Why aren't we there right now?" I sneer, bringing my voice down.

"Because there's no need to. You know that" she says simply.

"Maybe in your case, but not mine. You just felt entitled to do things your way. Like you always do. I had everything under control and-and you had me worried."

"You know nothing was going to happen to these kids. I knew nothing was really wrong."

"If you really felt so aloof about this, you should have stayed yourself. You can't just up and take my kids like that. We've talked about this."

She finally looks at me, turning away from her task. "I should be free to see my own grand kids whenever I want to."

"I would have probably excepted that, if we weren't in the middle of a god damn hurricane-"

"Momma! Momma look!"

I was interrupted by my two children excitedly telling me that a pie was on the way. All while showing me their hands, proof of a raspberry massacre. Animated. Passion. Triumph. Pleasant. I ruffle their heads with a quick "good job" and they ran off together. Their happiness almost cures my frustration. It does calm me down a bit though.

"Is is so much to want to keep your family safe" my mother asks.

Aaaaaaand its back.

"Is it so much to just listen to me? To just let me do things my way? I am in no less danger than you are just because I dont have the same... tools that you do."

"It looks like it puts you in a lot of danger if you have to evacuate the city. You could simply come here so momma can protect you."

"That makes me look like a normal person, mom. The streets are already flooding and a ton of people just saw me go the opposite direction. I look stupid and suspicious." I'm taken back to my teen years. Having a similar conversation with my mother. "Not everything can be solved with your protection. I can make my own decisions. But instead you undermine me and tamper with everything around you. Just because I dont have it, doesn't mean I cant keep my family safe or simply be a mother. How about, for once, you let mother nature do her job."

"Your father made this house with his bare hands, rehydrating himself with his sweat. No one is touching this house. Not even Cosmo's or Gaia or whatever." She huffs and turn away. A puff of steam emerges over her head, indicating she opened the pot of Gumbo.

"Well, when your the Matriarch, you can start making the rules around here."

Realizing an apology isn't coming, I groan restricting myself from wrapping my hands around her throat. Its silence between us, as there is after every altercation. Especially when the house is mentioned, cause it's always Papa's house. He passed away before I could even learn to speak his name. Mama always told us about Papa. How she met him, how he put her on her feet and built a house for her (it was told he even built the bricks holding this house up), how his devotion to his family and the love of his life lasted until death did them part.

"What makes you think I'm going to be the next Matriarch?" I ask, slipping in the kitchen chair.

"You will. It's a family tradition that you need to uphold. And you are the only girl conceived by me." She answers, this sounds almost rehearsed.

"Why don't the others take your place?" I ask, for the millionth time.

"It's only rare that a boy has ever been in place of a woman. And once a girl was brought in, he was removed immediately."

"If it's that simple then crown them and get it over with."

"Oh, do you think it's that easy"? She quizzes, slowly turning to me.

"Knowing you, probably not."

"Hyde is much more coordinated than that. If they really didn't think you were worthy, we would have known, but I always knew you were special."

Here she goes again. Hyde,, is supposedly the person that gifts the family with magic, life, and girls. It's the spirirt who thrones and dethrones us. No matter who we are. According to mom, the next Matriarch could be good or bad, Hyde has a plan for them in the end.

Along with Papa's stories, Hyde was always directed towards me because I was the only girl, excluding my half sister. Truthfully there was no way to know if Hyde was actually real. I'm not even sure if my parents have seen it. Mom would tell me tales at night of different women throughout our generation, chosen by Hyde and how I would be like them someday.

Perfect.

"Hyde doesn't give you this gift for no reason" mom reassures "they always have a plan. You can't see everything in a negative light. What if Hyde chooses Clio and you-"

I stop her at the mention of my youngest name.

"I'm not putting that responsibility on my kid" I say sternly, though It probably won't matter what I tell her "Especially if, no offense, she ends up like you. Completely dependent on Hyde's gift. IT didn't give me any when I was born, like the rest of you, and I'd like it to stay that way."

Silence once more.

"Perhaps you're afraid-"

"I'm not afraid-"

"-its okay."

"-Of this imaginary ghost."

"Sure, keep believing that. But when it happens~" she sings.

"When it happens to me, pigs will fly" I sneer, memories of that same sing song tone prodding at me.

She says nothing.

"Just let it go mom, it's just not meant to be. I'm not a child that you can hide under your wings when hail comes. However your gifts came to be, Hyde, the house, whatever, it must've skipped a generation."

She continues to stir. She sputters "but-but the family-"

"-The family doesn't know what's best for me and neither do you. I know I'm the only daughter to the Matriarch. I know I wasn't born with any gifts like my siblings. I know refusing my path makes me an ungrateful child and Hyde will handle me" I say reciting what I also heard throughout my life "But that's not my life. And I'm not defenseless."

She freezes. More silence.

"And, I mean, it's not like having voodoo is easy. It consumes you and it messes a lot of things up. This worlds order and the next."

"That's what the council is for" my mom mutters finally.

"Oh, right. The council. The same family who's just as dependent as you. Do you even remeber a time where you haven't used your gift and actually did things yourself?"

...

...

"Don't you ever think of letting go of this life? Doing things for yourself and not the family? Hyde? Papa's house? I notice how this changes you as you age. If this is the answer to our problems I wouldn't mind the sea taking this house away for a while-"

"Mama! Mama!"

"Wow, look."

I follow my kids voices and they seek for me, a glimmer of wonder and awe in there wide pupils. My 2 boys are pointing to the window in the living room. My sleeping child is now up, standing on her toes to see what her brothers are looking at.

As I begin to walk In the living room, they're rushing back to the kitchen. I take a peek and see a part of the lawn, including my rental car but the road and the neighborhood is gone. A large amount of visible debris is covering up the world around-

No.

No.

That's not debris. That's not wind.

I follow my kids. They've opened the screen door and ventured into the back yard. I race after them and stop in my tracks. The water barrier has followed us to the backyard. My kids are screaming and dancing in the sprinklers as the hurricane is trapping us in its second eye. The oceanic barrier is circling around is, refusing to touch the property. With my kids instructions I look up, the sky is dark above us like it's the dead of night, yet inside the barrier, its murky like a cloudy day.

I can't concentrate. Excitment. Curiosity. Shock. Chills.

I sigh as my daughter wobbles to me and I scoop her in my arms. I can see it now, worst hurricane in 6 years and the Crobitt house still stands. This is similar but not related to the instance when a pair of swings at the run down school across the house seemingly froze in the air a few years ago... CIA is currently investigating...

I gather my children inside, they were starting to go towards the rushing ocean and who knows what'll happen. I shut the door with a defeated sigh and sulk at the table. The beneits sit gracefully with their powder sugar and I worship it by stuffing it in my mouth.

"I told you..."

I look up. My mothers eyes are glowing that familiar bright green and she has that devious smirk on her face. She always gave me that look as a child as if she's trying to tell me something. That, or it's to prove something, which I still dont know. I dont think I ever will.

"...you're father built this house. No one is taking it from me..."

...

...

"Now, elbows off the table."

-------

If you like to write or be creative, perhaps you need inspiration, go check out this book! Its the best!

#neworleans #magic #voodoo #hurricane #Matriarch #tradition #fantasy #gumbo #raspberrypie #spirit #writethestory #writer #writting #piccadillyinc #originalpost

[zuffer-weird-girl]

What if s/o is a thief trying to steal Pirate! Overhaul's treasures but then s/o was caught and almost got killed but then Overhaul planed to use her as like an assistant or something?? Sorry, I can't explain much😔 I LUV UR FANFICS BY THE WAYY!!💖 It always motivates me😔✨❤

A mere thief getting on one of the most terrifying and scary ships of all sea, ruled by the tyrant and stoic captain any pirate or simple civilian ever heard of.

Captain Overhaul.

And now, as the trope had left the boat on the deck. You saw a opportunity to get your hands on their stolen treasure. The captain always carried his most gains with him, always with arrogance that whoever crossed his path on sea or eatlrth would have the same destiny. Death.

Yet you, with one braincell aparently, sneaked inside the ship and knocked out one of the man's responsible for vigilance. You smirked to yourself and a bit of pity for the blonde whose was on the wood of the ground as you snuck in inside.

You lighten up carefully one of your matches on the bottom of your boot. Widening your eyes at the amount of gold coins, rum barrels, jewel chests among ruby, jade and diamonds.... you left out a small "wow" as you wondered around.... ocasionally picking one or two things and shoving down your purse you always carried.

You stopped walking and furrowed your eyebrows when you saw a painting. Bringing the light close, you brushed your hand on the dusty painting to see an old man with two kids... the girl was taller and had similarities with the elder while the boy on the left was younger and totally different.... Golden eyes and dark brown hair on his features.

"Huh..." you muttered while hissing when you burned your finger accidentaly with the match. Grumbling and lightening up another one.

Some box with food were in there as well and you were impressed by how much everything, excluding the painting, was in great state... not even one bit of dust on the gold or other things.

"Weird..." you muttered before hearing some drunk voices and footsteps coming from outside.

Cursing you threw the match out from a window and hided yourself on one of the boxes at hearing the sounds of boots echoing and getting closer...

"Maybe it was a mistake staying in here?" You heard a voice and you curled up even more but still tried to poke an eye out of your hidding spot to see something...

"NOnSeNsE!" Another one shouted and you cringed at how loud it was "CAPTaiN KnoWs WhAT He I DoInG PunnNKKKKkk-!"

"Punk?" You muttered quietly before the voices went quiet for a bit.

"Yes Overhaul. We will tell the other to get up by morning." And with that, the voices were out...

You heard stories of thsi young king of the seas before... and hearing the name Overhaul caused almost everyone you knew to shiver... No one who met him came back to tell the story...

You gulped and made quietly your way out as soon as you heard the creaking of the door... you couldn't just get out now... especially with all the crew wide awake...

Well... they did drinked aparently... so you just had to wait a few minutes. So the best you could do was patiently what until everything was quiet enough to get out and ran away.

You heard a sound of water and arched your eyebrow up when you saw water with soap poking and sliding down the door that just had closed... did... did that man was cleaning his own office? Do pirates do that?

You shrugged and quietly went upstairs at noticing not a sound was muttered.. you opened the door slowly and slid you way out of it and closing without a sound.

You looked at the deck and everyone was almost passed out... some even drooling on the ground of teh ship. You made a disgusted face and tiptoed your way out till the exit of the ship....

You were almost there as you laughed inside of your head before your body stopped when a bigger and rough hand closed around your wrist as you gasped at seing a man with white hair glaring down at you.

"What are you doinh in here?" He growled as you gulped.

"G-Got in teh wrong ship!" You yelped quietly... but the man only furrowed even more his eyebrows and shouted "LIFT ANCHOR! WE HAVE A CLANDESTINE HERE!"

Shit...

They all woke up immediately, some grabbing their swords as other went to lift the anchor. The man let go of your wrist as you tried to run back to the exit only to see you were away from the port.

"DAMMIT!" You shouted, preparing to jump on the water before you screamed when a much bigger than the other grabbed your forearm and even lifted you off from the ground.

"Aaaa!" The muscular man let out as you kicked and squirmed on his grasp "What we have here??? Trying to steal from Overhow?"

"More respect towards our Captain Rappa. Now-" the blonde pushed his glasses up with his middle finger as he glared at you "Hold still this street rat."

You growled at him before you kicked the man, Rappa, on the balls as he shouted and let you go... you ran but three man circled around you... One with a bag on his head, one bald and the other blinded you had knocked out earlier whose cleary wasn't happy to see you again.

"Get THIS WOMAN!" Another blonde shouted as you cursed before grabbing the bag face man's forearm and jumping to give a kick right on the bald one's face before punching on the blonde's jaw to get a run for it.

You screamed again when you felt something on your ankle and before you knew it, you were hanging upside down as you saw all the eyes on you...

"Now, what do we have here?" A indigo drunk guy sluttered as he tried to touch you before you slapped him away, accidentally letting your purse fall and show the things you had just grabbed it.

The white haired man from before crouched down to see it as the blonde with glasses from earlier got close.

"Is Captain's things." The man whispered as the blonde nodded, glaring at you.

"So a mere thief huh?" You gulped before yelping when a crow screamed in your ear and flew to be on top on one of the mans.

"Come on, as if pirates aren'tthiefs themselfs..." you mumbled as you hang up side down, smirking and arching one eyebrow before you widened your eyes at seing the same crow transform into a muscled name as he screamed down at you.

"DARe To COmPArE US WiTh YoU ThEN?!" Ah, so this was the guys who shouted "punk" earlier....

"What should we do with her?" A blonde with closed eyes asked, almost I dissapointed as The indigo one spoke after.

"Hey boss, let's shave her!" The guy laughed as you gasped in offense.

"Idiot." The men in glasses muttered while shaking his head.

"Walk the board!" The Rappa guys yelled as you rolled your eyes.

"Tacky dude. Tacky." All of them looked at you in shock, whispering to one another before the white haired man took off his sword.

"Silence all of you." He spike before walking, pointing the tip of his sword to your throat as your breath started to quickened.

The door slammed and everyone tensed, your attacker pulling his sword back and walking away from you as the other males stand by in two lines.

You squinted your eyes, one black boot coming out of the dark and one gloved hand on teh door... despite the night being dark as always, you gulped in fear at the golden eyes narrowing at your figure from the distance.

"Captain." They all saluted Rappa hesitated but did it anyway as the unknown male came in view.

Hat covering the top of his dark brow hair as hsi golden eyes shined along with the moon light... His cape and vests didn't reached the ground and he carrie along a belt that he aparently had both a sword and a shotgun...

He walked slowly towards you, The crown man and the white haired dude trailing a bit behind him as he looked at you from the ground at your hanging upside down corpse.

"... what do we have here?" His voice was a dark and low one as he put his hands behind his back and walked in circles around where you were standing... your head just on the same height as his own one but only for a few inches higher.

"Setsuno." He said, and the blonde shivered "I thought you were looking for our ship..." his tone was cold and dissapointed.

"F-Forgive me C-Captain." He looked over his shoulders at the blonde "She knocked me out, that's why you all probably found me on the floor."

"I will decide your punishement later..." he growled and they all shivered before he returned to lock his golden orbs with you "For now I aparently have to deal with this problem. One that aparently gave you a bit of work to just maintain our prisoner."

"Forgive us Overhaul." The white haired man spoke more confidently as be also looked at you "But we found out that this woman is not only a clandestine, but also one that stolen a bit of your possesions."

He hummed before taking his sword out and lifting up in teh air with a pysocothic look "In that case-"

Everyone closed their eyes as well as you, but you only groaned when your face and body met harshly the ground as you hissed in pain before your vision meet Overhaul's boots..

You gasped when you felt him grabbing you by the hair and taking your face up to look at him.

"So you're a thief. Have to be very brave or some stupid girl to invade my ship out of all the ones on that port." He yanked your head even more as you hissed bit glared at him back "You can have what you picked up. Really, I wont mind."

Everyone let out a confused nose before you saw the crown man throw your purse on the sea.

You were suddenly lifted up by the hair as he yanked you along with by the end of the ship, the most scariest thing was that he was calm, not laughing not shouting. HE WAS FUCKING CALM. You panted while staring at the water above your feet as you were only being held by one of Overhaul's hand.

"You still want that thing?" You shook your head desperately as he hummed "What a shame..."

You went to look but as soon as your feet disconnected with the ground and felt his hand pushing you you let out a bloody scream you met the cold water.

He only looked at you coming out of the water to breath a few minutes ago.

"SADISTIC!" you shouted, teeth hitting together as he only lifted one of his eyebrows.

"We are far away from that shameful city we were now. If you swan until there, your body will be tired out, not even speaking about the sharks and other sea creatures that can come easily after you." Some of the crea laughed as you tried still have more strengh to say with your head out of the water.

"Maybe..." he hitted his finger lightly on his forehead as he stared right in your eyes "Maybe you can be useful on my ship... After all, you own me after that audacity of yours."

"FUCK YOU! AS IF!" you shouted back as he sighed, having his back to you and lifting his hand up.

"In that case. Be my guest to be eaten by sharks." You glared at him before you froze at seing one shark not much far away...

Be a slave for pirates or die by a shark..?

You cried ass you swan the list you could before you gave up and shouted, all of your pride completely lost on that moment.

"I ACCEPT! I ACCEPT OKAY?! TAKE ME OUT OF HERE! PLEASE I BEG YOU-!"

He stopped and smiled sadistically before gaving a look to Mimic, whose nodded and transformed into a crown and went to throw you a rope as you cried in relief and started to grab it.

"Pull her." He muttered to Rappa whose did abruptly. You were soon back on the grounds of the ship as you trembled... Glaring already at the boots in front of you as Overhaul looked down at you, so I the crown rested on his shoulder as the other men snickered at you.

"Welcome to the Hassaikai... slave." He let out a sinister smirk on his face before he snapped his fingers for two man to lift you up.

"Put a chain on her. Maybe this way she wont be a idiot enough to jump amd kill herself on the sea." He ordered before the showed the crown out of his shoulder and walked casually back to his quarters, not before stopping and giving you a look over his shoulders.

"Call me your captain Overhaul from now on until you let your final breath out..." With that he closed the door, leaving you to widen your eyes in horror and be dragged by the man by some other place of the ship.

(Aaaaa I loved this piece, should I continued???"

#overhaul x reader #chisaki kai x reader #overhaul #chisaki kai #bnha imagine #bnha characters #bnha villains x reader #bnha au #captain overhaul #pirate au #shiiit i loved this #zuffer writings

[summerlycoris]

This was originally gonna be a comment on a /r/cringe post where people were getting upset about deaf people not liking cochlear implants, but the post got locked. I put too much effort into this to not post, though.

Okay.

There's a few different reasons why deaf people don't like articles like these. If you don't know the reasons, it looks silly. So, let's get into some of the reasons.

First thing is, with articles like these, they're usually about a baby or other small child being fitted with Cochlear Implants. Sometimes hearing aids, if they have moderate hearing loss instead of no hearing. But mostly cochlear implants, because they're newer tech and make for more clickable/sharable headlines.

Cochlear implants can help with understanding, but it's not hearing in a traditional sense. It's electronic signals that bypass the middle ear, and go straight to the cochlea nerves. If you want to hear what this sounds like, there are examples here.

Cochlear implants can be really useful. But they aren't miracles, even people who get really good results with them still can't understand some noises around them. [This article from the FDA has some examples, like not being able to understand speech on the radio due to lacking visual cues.

however, there are also articles (like the one linked here) from the National Institute of Deafness, that state cochlear implants, if implanted earlier than 18 months, and followed up with therapy, can eliminate the need for visual cues.

With this, we can start to understand why some deaf people refuse cochlear implants after growing up with them. Like [Brandon Edquist, who received his implants at 3 years old, and never liked having them in. He had a weird buzzing noise, and never picked up enough sounds differently to make it worth it.

Brandon's parents would get mad at him for turning off the implant, and warn him it was essential to him fitting into society. Which I think highlights one of the problems people can have with getting these implants young- parents who think itll cause miracles dont understand when kids dont like it, or don't want it.

"This misconception may harm pediatric recipients. Some parents of children with cochlear implants believe their child is “hearing” like them, so they do not teach their child American Sign Language (ASL). Not learning sign language may delay their child’s language acquisition.6 According to the National Association of the Deaf (NAD), cochlear implants do not provide recipients with “clear and unambiguous access” to linguistic input in the same way that sign language does. For young children learning their primary language, “reliance on only spoken language input via cochlear implants may result in linguistic deprivation if sign language is excluded from [their] environment.”"

This can cut people off from a community of people just like them. I'm not Deaf, but growing up autistic, the best thing I ever did was hang out with other autistic, and disabled, people. Even when i was at my lowest points while in school, it would've been so much worse if i had no one.

So, there are reasons members of the Deaf community object to these videos. It's not cringe to admit that videos and articles showing babies and young kids "hearing for the first time!!!" Are more often that not, just glurge for sharebaiting, and essentially, virtue signalling in its truest sense. Does anyone sharing these stories try to understand anything else about disabled and/or deaf people? Or do they just go on with their day with a general happy feeling of "awww, next!"

It's not cringe to understand that its not about some jealous people wanting to prevent babies from hearing. There's more to it than that.

Whew. That was a lot. Too many ableds on Reddit with dumbass takes like "they dont like it because they're jealous it didn't work for them!" Or "they need to just accept its a handicap already" yikes yikes yikes.

A surprising amount of 'woke' people still don't understand disability- based issues at all. Yay!

#summerly talks