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#and not get to swept away by others opinions
kirwell · 7 months
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my advice to the writers out there
I'm writing this instead of my book right now,, cause intrusive thoughts
I’m someone who likes to look around for writing advice to get new perspectives and helpful tips and ideas from other writers.  But sometimes I’d hunt around for validation from videos to see if I was “doing things right” with my own book, and I can’t tell ya how damaging that’s been for me in the past on my writing journey.
While taking advice and constructive criticism is good and progressive and can help you see things from another perspective to better your writing, I also can’t stress enough to take things with a grain of salt when it comes to other people's opinions on genres and tropes.
Has someone else written something like my story before? Probably yeah. 
Are there tropes in my story that have already been in other books/other media? Oh yeah, I don't doubt it.
Are some people tired of seeing certain themes and settings in stories? Sure. Everyone is into different things. 
Does that mean my story shouldn’t be written at all, and I should just write something else instead? Hell fuckin no, yo !
I love my story because I’m telling it the way I WANT in my own style, my own characters, and with my own messages that I want to tell. Putting your heart and soul into your writing is a real thing ya’ll, and that will stand out. 
I love high fantasy stories with medieval themes, magic, fantastical worldbuilding, great adventures, and grand quests with a party of characters I can love and relate to.  I love wizards, elves, fairies, demons, and all the things you imagine when you hear “classic fantasy.”  That genre has always inspired me and brought out the most creative side of me. 
So when some people say, “Don’t write that,” or “Don’t write this,” because it’s been touched upon before and nobody wants to read that anymore, it would bum the hell outta me. 
So should I NOT write my own story and share it because a part of it fits into a familiar trope within the genre? Does that mean my story shouldn’t ever be read and that it’s inherently not good?
If you have a story to tell, and you wanna tell it, then write it! It’s your book, it’s your story, it’s your characters, and you’re allowed to enjoy what you’ve created. 
Take constructive criticism, be flexible, and be open to learning and changing, like you would with any other skill. I wouldn’t be where I’m at in my writing capability today if I had never listened to advice and practiced over and over again.
But don’t let anyone take away your creativity!
Changing the whole theme of your story because it may not appeal to some readers or publishers is the most ridiculous, damaging thing I’ve heard. There will always be people who won’t wanna read what you’ve written, or publishers who aren't interested, and that’s okay. That’s to be expected with anything creative.  But if you like something, write it, and don’t let others say you shouldn’t. It’s damn near impossible to be 100% original in every aspect of your story and avoid every single used trope, if that’s even possible to do anymore these days. Trying to be perfect will drive you insane.
Personally, the more you try to “change this” and “change that” in order to check off your originality boxes, the less happy you’ll be with your work. That's been my experience, at least. I went through a lotta versions of my book to fit what writers in their videos were telling me it should be in order to be accepted and appreciated, and I wasn’t happy with any of it and felt really stuck.
Try and find the right kinds of videos and communities that’ll inspire you, encourage you, and help ya in places where you’re falling short.  Some channels can really suck out all of your creativity and make you second-guess everything you’ve created, wondering if your story will ever be good enough.
A setting where a character or a group has to go on an adventure to fulfill a certain goal is something I really like, and to be told that specific trope is dull and overdone was discouraging on a whole other level. Why should I write this if nobody even wants to read it?
I’ve had to stop watching channels in the past because this idea was preached so much and I believed it, and it was depressing reading comments who felt the same as me.
“I gotta rewrite my whole story now.” “Oh no, my story is like this!” “Guess I shouldn’t write about that in my story.” 
Please don’t give up on your stories because of personal opinions on a genre or a trope! We all have opinions, likes, dislikes, and prefer different things. Nothing is set in stone. 
For me, a story is about the journey and what the characters go through and how they make me feel. If you wanna write a vampire love story with witches and werewolves and a love triangle, go for it! If you wanna write a story about a school for magical creatures in a fantasy world, go for it!
Make a story YOURS and don’t be afraid to tell it! Someone out there will love what you’ve made and it’ll inspire them just like you were inspired. Write for YOU and for all those people who love what you love and will wanna read the fuck outta your book! 
,,I hope this was actually useful advice for someone out there. Cause this is something I wish someone would have told me years ago. Now go write and have fun with it ! 
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finelinevogue · 2 months
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always
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summary - you and harry finally say those three words
pairing - actress!reader x harry
word count - ~1.5k
💐🌷☀️💗 💐🌷☀️💗 💐🌷☀️💗 💐🌷☀️💗
It was the Oscar’s after party at Vanity Fair and you were a little tipsy.
A happy drunk, some may say.
Just tipsy enough to be able to giggle at everything, but to also still have your entire wits about you. Your boyfriend on your arm was exactly the same. It was lucky neither of you were the designated driver.
“It was nice seeing you!” You politely waved off two people you would not mind never seeing again.
After they were gone, Harry clearly had the same opinion as you.
“Knobheads.” He muttered close to your ear, so no one with a camera could even pick up what he was saying.
“That’s Hollywood, my love.”
“Yeah, but they could have been slightly more discreet about only liking your recent film because you were topless for a small scene.” He huffed.
You looked up at him, filtering out every other star-studded celebrity in the room.
“They were two white old men, what did you expect?”
“Some respect.”
“At least I’ll always have you for that.” You cupped his cheek and his frown melted away. The soft touch of your skin against his was enough to coax back the smile that had been missing on his face.
Harry continued to look at you as you looked at him.
You couldn’t help but give off a blush and a nervous smile as you watched his gaze upon yours. “What?”
“Nothing,” He tried to bite back a ridiculous grin, “Just like that word.”
“What word?” You furrowed your brows in confusion.
“Always.”
You thought back to what you’d just said and you ducked your head to hide the nervous smile widen, docking your forehead onto his chest.
You felt Harry’s chest rise and fall with a chuckle and you wrapped your arms around him to conceal all that happiness between just you two.
It was moments like this when you wanted to lean up and whisper those three words. The three words that apparently change everything. You’d never spoken them to anyone, like this, before so it was difficult to know how to even say them.
You were certain of one thing though. Even though you’d only been together for less than half a year, you’d never felt like this for anyone before. And sometimes you felt like Harry was the same.
You were certain that you loved Harry.
It was only a matter of how to tell him.
•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•
An hour later and you found yourself at the front of the photo booth queue.
Harry had been doing his rounds, saying hello to friendly faces such as Billie and Florence.
You had done your rounds, as well as take non-negotiable photos with your cast mates for one final hurrah.
Even though your movie hadn’t swept at the Oscar’s this year, you were just happy to have been a part of it. Creating movies and bringing stories to life is more than you could ever have dreamed of. Plus, you always had Harry’s hand to hold through it all now - which made it easier.
Harry was in fact holding your hand now.
As Barry and Sabrina walked out of the booth, lipstick smudged all over Barry’s smirking lips, Harry squeezed your hand to signal you were next.
Harry held back the curtain for you, but you waited for him to sit down first.
There was a bench that could fit at least four people on it, but you and Harry had pre-discussed what your photos would be (whilst waiting in the queue) and you’d both agreed that you sitting on his lap was the only way.
The “only way” being Harry’s words…
Not that you minded.
“Only photobooth where you don’t have to pay.” You commented, as you situated yourself sideaways on Harry’s lap.
Your arms slunk across his shoulders for support and his arm wrapped securely around your waist.
You moved slightly to get more comfortable on Harry’s thighs.
“Stop wriggling.” He grunted, making you instantly stop.
“Wh… Oh… Oh, Babe! You’re so….” You laughed at him.
“Hey, you’re not the one who has to go back out there with an obvious issue.”
“Doesn’t have to be an issue…” You attempted your best seductive whisper, but ended up bursting out giggling at the end.
“I hate you.”
You shut up, but his words had you thinking about the hidden meaning. He clearly didn’t hate you, that much was quite visibly obvious, so did he technically mean the opposite? Did he actually mean he lo–
“Y/N/N?” Your nickname being spoken brought you away from your thoughts, “You ready?”
You cleared your throat and approved.
The camera counted down…
The first photo would be of you and Harry simply smiling at the camera, faces leaning against each other.
3. 2. 1.
*snap*
You quickly moved yourselves for the next photo.
The second photo was of Harry kissing your cheek, whilst you made whatever face you wanted to. You decided to scrunch your eyes and smile like an idiot - because that’s how it felt to be in love.
3. 2. 1.
*snap*
In love.
That’s what you were.
You were insanely in love with Harry and he deserved to know. You deserved to share this love.
“Love?” Harry quickly reminded you off the next photo quickly approaching.
It was meant to be of you now kissing Harry’s cheek and him doing whatever he wanted, but now you wanted to do something else.
You cupped the far side of his cheek gently and leant your lips against his ear.
3.
“Y/N?”
2.
“I love you.”
1.
*snap*
Harry quickly turned his head towards you, nearly knocking your nose off in the process.
“What?” He had tiny pools of water collecting in his eyes.
“I love you.” You smiled warmly, softly rubbing over his cheek.
“Fuck.” He smiled, letting a tear fall.
3.
“I love you, too.” He said.
2.
“So much.” He cupped your cheek.
1.
And he kissed you with so much force.
*snap*
You almost fell back with how much he pushed into you, but that’s what kissing him felt like anyway - free falling.
Saying three words had never felt so explosive.
It was like a confetti cannon had been set off and the confetti was all your love for each other being scattered around the photo booth. You felt full and happy, and you could tell by Harry’s kiss that he felt exactly the same.
You pulled back, licking your lips and trying your best not to cry in case it ruined your makeup.
Harry didn’t care, he let some tears fall.
You brushed them away carefully with your thumbs.
“Those better be happy tears and not tears of instant regret.” You joked.
“Happy falls a bit flat of describing how I feel right now, love.”
You giggled and pushed yourself back onto his lips, kissing him to let those three words sink in more.
He moved back, needing to take you in, in this moment, before giving you a few smaller kisses.
“We should go.” You whispered.
“No.” Harry pouted.
“H, this is a photo booth not a kissing booth.”
He laughed, “Okay.”
You both got up to leave, pushing the curtain away and taking the little strip of photos from the deposit on the side of the booth.
Two had printed.
You both laughed at the one where you’d spoken those little words, because Harry’s facial expressions were so funny. He looked a mixture of shocked and happy all at once.
Harry tucked the photo strip into the inside pocket on his suit jacket, whilst you kept a tight grip on yours.
You held onto Harry’s hand and hugged onto his arm.
“That was a better moment than any Oscar award.” You honestly spoke.
Harry leant down to kiss your forehead.
“I love you.” He looked genuinely excited to be able to say that to you. “And I’m proud of you.”
“I know.”
“Oi, don’t you Star wars me!” He mocked. “Say it, or else.”
“I looooovvee you.” You teased out the word. Harry shook his head at you for being so annoying, but also he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Those three words belonged to him now as they belonged to you. And always will.
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229zmi · 2 months
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MY HEART, IT BEATS FOR YOU
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Nagi Seishirō/Reader | 1.0k words, fluff, jealous nagi
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Nagi, generally, is an apathetic person.
Yet somehow, there’s a taut feeling that twists its way through the gaps of his ribcage, stretching around his heart as his eyes linger on the fabric that hangs around your shoulders. Seeing you on the couch, casually scrolling on your phone while wearing a jacket he can’t recognise as yours or, even better, his as much as he wants to — the sight elicits something that’s not quite a painful feeling, but it isn’t exactly pleasant either, he thinks.
The wheels are still turning in his head when you finally acknowledge his presence with a smile, oblivious to the way he’s not even looking at you when you tell him, “Hey, Sei.”
Instead, he trudges over to you with the same passion as that of a sloth, and his voice comes out small, almost as if that same feeling in his chest has crawled past his shoulder to constrict his throat.
“That jacket— it’s not yours, is it?” It’s plain and simple, the way he states the observation, yet laced with the most marginal hint of spite.
“No, it’s Reo’s,” you confirm without missing a beat, and he narrows his eyes, so subtly that you don’t even catch it. You continue on about how you bumped into Reo by pure coincidence on your way to run an errand and how the weather’s been so volatile lately, oscillating between warm and sunny one day and freezing cold during the next. But Nagi—
Well—
Here’s the thing: as impassive as he is most of the time, Nagi is a great listener when it comes to you.
You’ve always been a priority to him and even more so in that facet. To relish in the fleeting moments of winning a game on his phone, or to know what happens in the latest chapter of his favourite manga as soon as possible — the rush of satisfaction he gets out of those is nice, he supposes, but not worth missing a word of what you say, be it something miscellaneous about your day or the biggest news he’s ever heard in his life.
And certainly, nothing is worth missing the small habits that make themselves known in your conversation, that make up the you he first swore love to near the bench outside the convenience store, holding your favourite snack in one hand and offering his jacket to you with his other because the harshness of springtime winds had swept away any warmth your flimsy sweater could contain.
It’s your facial expressions, your gestures, the way you look toward him at the end of each rambling, as if to ask, Are you listening? So then, he’ll answer— a nod, as if to say, Yes. Of course. Please say more. Because for you, it’s all ears and eyes wide open on his end.
But Nagi, admittedly, isn’t perfect, and this is not a matter of opinion. Even you can see the way he can’t stop staring hard at your jacket as though he’s trying to telepathically morph it into something that looks like it came from his closet instead.
Midway through an elaborate plan to sell the jacket for an outrageously high price on some sketchy website (you’re only half-joking… maybe), you finally notice his distant expression. “…Sei?”
His lack of response is all the confirmation you need for your suspicions. A grin then crosses your face, while your eyes sport a gleam that Nagi recognises as smugness once he eventually tears his focus away from the offending item of clothing.
You say his name again, this time teasingly. Then, “Are you jeal—?”
Your question cuts off unceremoniously when his hands reach over to latch onto the zipper of the jacket, pulling it down before tugging on the fabric near your shoulders. Despite the boldness of his actions, you don’t make any move to stop him as he flings Reo’s jacket across the room, hearing it land on the floor with a satisfying sound.
Moments later, he shrugs his jacket off in one smooth motion and then drapes it over your body. With his large palms smoothing over the fabric against your upper arms, it’s such a sweet gesture that you can’t find it in yourself to complain, although the opportunity to poke fun at him is hard to let slip.
“Woah, there.” Cheekily, you brush that one abnormally long part of his bangs away from his face and poke the tip of his nose, to which he responds with his signature pout before burying his face into the crook of your neck. As your back hits the cushion of the arm rest behind you and your hands come up to comb through his hair, you feel a bout of warmth surge through your collarbone area, accompanied by the sound of his voice muffled by your skin.
“I’m not jealous.”
A smile dances around the corners of your mouth despite your efforts to conceal it. “Really?” you say. “I think you are.”
“Nuh-uh,” he grumbles. “You can’t prove it.”
“I mean. You’re kinda all over me right now.”
He huffs at the flurry of giggles that tumble from your mouth boundlessly, like clothes spilling out of an overpacked suitcase. Though, when your laughter finally simmers down and humour seems to have come to a standstill in your conversation, sentimentality weaves its way into your voice, in between mixed undertones of reassurance and leftover amusement.
(Because what you’re about to say is nothing but the truth itself: ardent and vulnerable, despite the sheer casualness in the way you present it.)
“You’re the only one my heart beats for, Seishirō.”
Lazily, he peers up at you. “Promise?”
“I promise. Besides,” you add, snuggling deeper into the collar of his jacket, “your jacket’s way warmer, anyway.”
That could be attributed to the fact that he has practically become your personal heater by sprawling his body over yours on the couch. Nevertheless, the envious fangs surrounding Nagi’s heart slacken, and with your fingers brushing through his hair once again, he can’t help himself from murmuring into your skin, sounding more relieved than he has ever sounded, “Good.”
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teresajoan · 4 months
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Astrology: Uranus in the houses
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Uranus is righteous. Uranus is compelled to uphold values and beliefs for the greater good. Unlike Pluto, which destroys for the purpose of transforming, or Mars that destroys for the purpose of overcoming, Uranus destroys for the sake of what is considered right and fair. It will destroy in the name of truth and equity. It is the ultimate rebel and anti-authoritarion. It causes chaos in the face of resistance.
The house with uranus in it must act righteously, and the desired results must be righteous. Otherwise, volatility occurs.
1st house - You see the world differently and sometimes can't believe that you are forced to live in the constraints of society. Use your presence righteously to help others who are alienated.
2nd house - Spend money unselfishly. What you give to others will come back unexpectedly. Perhaps you don't even "believe in money," and you understand it as a created concept that keeps the poor suffering and the rich richer. You value unusual items and gifts.
3rd house - Others find it difficult to understand you and follow your chain of thoughts. You may get frustrated and exhausted by this, but you try to always speak your truth no matter what. Do this, and those who understand will love you. The ones that do not understand will be left behind. Use your words to advocate for others less fortunate in your community. The more you are involved in sibling drama, the worse it will get.
4th house - It's hard to find solid ground to call your home, but the more you hold onto the past is the more sudden and unexpected shake ups will occur. Practice empathy towards your family, and you will be truly empathetic to yourself.
5th house - Be respectful and kind in love. Do not fuck with others hearts, or it will come back around. Be open about the strangeness and taboos that you seek from the beginning. Sudden wins and loses in gambling. Unexpected accidents with children or pregnancy. Consider revolutionary ideas around these topics and how you can advocate for others in such positions.
6th house - You're compelled to fight authoritarian figures in your day and in your society because you hate being controlled. Step outside of the defensive fight and come up with your own routine and process without expecting others to agree to follow along.
7th house - Approach others with a fair and equal attitude. The more you celebrate the difference in others, the more it will be celebrated in you. You seek unusual partnerships and have open ideas about marriage, however, this must be actioned with consent.
8th house - Respect the property of others and do not fight over inheritance for selfish reasons. Embrace the sudden changes and loss. Fighting against it will cause more chaos.
9th house - Take ownership of your own learning. Your views and beliefs are against the norm and for the bettering of society. Just don't let your ego get so attached to your opinion that you close yourself off to learning. Otherwise, a greater force will have no choice but to continuously shake up your beliefs.
10th house - You are viewed by others as "different" or "strange." You should work to change society's perceptions, not to justify your strangeness, but to free others of stigma and discrimination.
11th house - You are the natural humanitarian. Its easy to get suddenly swept up in revolutionary ideas. Earn your money outside of the norm. Be careful when you dream strange and big for society. It must be with the purpose of benefiting those who need it, not just anarchy for the sake of defiance.
12th house - You have a strong hidden desire to break away and be free. You want to travel and explore alone. However, you can not avoid your generational karma. It follows you everywhere. The more open you are to understanding this, the more pleasant surprises will be delivered to you in unusual ways.
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undertheorangetree · 3 months
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Cherry Wine
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Summary- Coriolanus returns to the Capitol with his most prized possession.
Warnings- MDNI 18+ Female reader. Technically TBOSAS spoilers. Reader is essentially Lucy Gray. Really incredibly toxic relationship. Choking. Fingering. P in V sex. This is technically kidnapping.
Author’s Note- I wasn’t sure if this was ever gonna actually see the light of day but I am a lush little creature so enjoy. This is part 2 to In the Woods Somewhere but can probably be read as a standalone?? Either way full story linked below :)
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She hates the Capitol. She has hated it since the first moment she set eyes on it. Admittedly, she had not seen much when she first arrived- thrown in a cage at the zoo, paraded through the streets, dragged into the arena- but it had been enough to forge an opinion. She hates the opulence, the disgusting displays of wealth. The way everything of value is flaunted and passed around as if it’s frivolous and easily replaced. How the towers loom over the wide streets, so different from the ramshackle buildings that make up Twelve. The way garbage is swept from the roadside the moment it appears, refusing for even a moment to appear as anything less than immaculate. Everything manicured. Everything perfect. Designed to make an impression, everything about it seems to grab you by the jaw and force you to look at the perfection of it all, nails dug in lest you attempt to look away. A perfectly ripe peach, all sunset pink with its soft, near endearing fuzz, hiding the rotten, maggot-ridden center underneath.
It's enough to make her miss the coal dusted streets of home.
The Snow penthouse- Coriolanus’s penthouse- seems to be the perfect example of Capitol excellence. The perfect patterns built into the tile in the bathrooms, the marble floors that seem to glitter beneath her feet, the paintings displayed behind thin sheets of glass to keep them perfectly preserved. She can see everything from up here, the highest apartment in the tallest building, and the longer she stares out the window, the more she comes to realize she hates to be so high up.
Or perhaps she simply hates that this bay window is the only view she gets of the outside world. The only view she has gotten in weeks.
She had regretted following Coriolanus onto that train the moment she set foot inside it but by then it had been too late. The doors had slid shut as silent as a wraith and she knows her face must have changed as he had half hauled her into one of the padded chairs and made her sit, watching her with his too blue eyes as if he were waiting for her to run. And had she thought she stood a chance, perhaps she would have. She should have. But then she had caught sight of the Avoxes serving them, standing silent and resigned in the corner and knew that should she cause a scene, she would likely share their fate.
So she had sat there uncomplainingly. Let him parade her back home and listened as the lies he told Grandma’am and Tigris flowed off his tongue like honey, hating the bits of truth sprinkled throughout. Holding her hand like a shackle as he told them how they had fallen in love. That he couldn’t possibly leave her behind. That she wasn’t really district, was she? Not like the others, not when she had never truly been one of them, not now that she was a Victor. The perfect lovestruck boy and his pretty little prize. Who could make them part now, separate them so soon after they had found each other? They had fawned all over him- and Tigris over her- so quickly it had made her skin crawl but still, she had said nothing, offering smiles she knew didn’t reach her eyes.
She had continued to say nothing when she heard him tell the Plinths just how sorry he was for Sejanus, that if he had known what he was doing, he would have stopped him. As he told them how dear his dead friend had been to him. Best friends. She had listened silently as the Plinth’s rewarded him for his devotion, handing him the keys to a lavish new penthouse for little more than his supposed loyalty, for loving their sweet, kind Sejanus. The keys to her self imposed prison.
Coriolanus had never told her how the Capitol had gotten its hands on the jabberjay that damned his lone friend to the hanging tree but he didn’t have to. She has had plenty of time to put that story together herself, sitting alone in his locked apartment while he attended the university and worked under Doctor Gaul planning for the next Games.
She is a Victor and though perhaps that should mean something, it has become clear that it doesn’t. Though people watched her Games, though she made an impression, the memories of those in the Capitol are fleeting. No Victor is remembered following their Games. They are congratulated for their victory and sent home on the first train, never to be seen or heard from again. They fade from the public eye quickly, forgotten before the next moon, and perhaps she would have been as well had she not caught Coriolanus’s attention. Had he not been her mentor, so enamoured with her that he would cheat to save her.
She blames herself just as much as she blame him. Curses herself for not being able to see behind that perfectly curated mask he presents to everyone who looks at him, for being distracted by his pretty blonde curls and handsome face. Had he been ugly or cruel or anything other than deceptively kind, perhaps she could have escaped all this unscathed. Gone back home to Twelve without having him falling behind her like some forgotten shadow. Even if she had lost the Games, at least then she would be free of him. But instead she had been little more than a moth drawn to a flame, her wings now singed and leaving her an easy meal to the predator who first spotted her.
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Read the full story here
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snaileer · 7 months
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Everyone Loves a 2-for-1 Sale Part 3
Part 1 & 2 (And original Prompt)
The dining room was suspiciously quiet for a Wayne breakfast when Danny walked in.
He glanced up from his phone, pulling one earbud out, “Oh feel free to continue arguing my morality like I’m an object, my music’s on full volume.”
Dick looked uncomfortable, “We weren’t-Look, Ti- Danny, we are just a bit curious as to why you’re…. here,” Dick finished, glancing at the others like asking if they’d share the plate of batguilt-fries with him.
“Surely the world could have done without a second Drake,” Damian cut in before Danny could even start.
“And we could have done without even one of you, yet here you are,” Danny glared, “Factory defects and all.”
Damian jerked upwards with a raised knife, narrowly pushed back down by Dick.
Danny rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to his phone-Tim’s phone-their phone. He held a folded paper out to Bruce with two fingers, still typing, “I have a list, if you want it.”
He continued typing as they opening the note and read it, he knew what it said.
To Do in Gotham:
1. Get to Gotham
2. Find original - don’t freak family out
3. -Find- Talk to Bruce
4. Convince Vicki Vale that Tim is/ actually engaged to Tam Fox
5. Get safe house
6. New identity? (what do clones do? - ask Connor)
7.
8.
9. Leave?
“What’s number seven and eight?” Dick asked, and Danny actively made sure his typing pattern didn’t change.
“Don’t know yet,” He answered with a shrug, the picture of nonchalance. Bruce probably didn’t believe him.
Didn’t matter. Dick did. Because Dick felt guilty.
Bat guilty.
About time he believed him about something.
And Danny didn’t care about Damian’s opinions one way or another.
He stepped away from the table, plopping another grape in his mouth as he walked past, “Welp that’s it for me, busy day, fake engagement, gotta find some crutches because I don’t think Vicki will accept my ‘you got new legs Lieutenant Dan-ny’ joke, all that,”
Danny slipped out the door past a sleep-deprived Tim with a jaunty salute, “All’s well in Clone Town!”
Danny kept walking, his brain running miles ahead of him, Ted Tobin steering the wheel with his fingers on the keypad of his phone as he moved forward and mentally filled in the list.
Number 7: Find Ra’s Al Ghul and the Lazarus pits.
Number 8: Stabilize yourself.
Danny continued up the stairs. He had people to see and rings to buy. Busy is the life of a saboteur.
Red Robin watched his clone linger in the jeweler’s store, trying to keep the frown from taking over his whole face.
He was making Tim’s life difficult. Tim suspected it was on purpose.
Largely because people would ask way too many questions if two Tim Drakes showed up in Gotham at the same time.
Hence, Red Robin being relegated to rooftop surveillance.
He turned his attention back to the clone, watching as he left the shop and turned down the street. Red Robin swept after him, following from above.
The clone remained focused on his phone- which was also Tim’s by the way, and stolen- as he walked down the street, turning into an alley without even looking up.
Tim tilted his head and swung to the rooftop, peering into the darkness.
“You could always just come down and actually talk to me, you know?”
Tim dropped into the alley, unsurprised to come face to face with the clone. It was weird to see his own face look so annoyed by him.
“Thought it was best to stay out of sight. We’re not exactly a daylight hero.”
Danny rolled his eyes, “Already annoyed with Vicki Vale?”
Tim nearly growled, “That is your fault,”
“Oh come on, you can’t tell me it’s not hilarious.”
“You’ve spent all morning in ring shops! I have meetings!”
“Lucius can handle them. It’s not like we actually did anything this last year anyways.”
Tim stared at him for a second, confusion in the squint of his eyes and laced with suspicion.
Danny groaned with a roll of his eyes, “Fine, you want me to stay put somewhere so you can do your civilian thing?”
“Yes.”
“I am not staying in the manor. You can’t make me.”
Dread filled him as Tim smiled, “Not a problem.”
Danny glared at Tim standing arms wide in the center of the room of his emptiest safe house, “This is so not what I meant and you know it.”
Tim’s face betrayed nothing, “Look, none of us are happy with this situation-“
Danny scoffed. Understatement of the century.
“But..” Tim continued with a pointed look, “It’s my fault, and I get that. So…compromise? You stay here, work on cold cases while I sort out my current job, and when I’m done, we’ll figure out what to do, okay?”
Danny sighed, feeling Ted Tobin stir to life with plans already forming.
“Fine.”
Tim nodded succinctly, reaching for a laptop and multiple cords, “Ok, here’s my old computer, -huh, I could have sworn that had a different charger- anyways- I’ll take this,” he plucks the phone from Danny’s hands in one smooth motion, giving a mocking smile in return to Danny’s glare, “Thank you very much, now I just have to-and find the guy who…”
Tim’s voice tapers off into mumbles as he heads into the bedroom to peel off his suit, fingers focused on the keypad of his newly reacquired phone.
Danny slumps himself down on the secondhand couch, dust echoing around him. This was fine, he could do stuff in the meanwhile, maybe help Tim with his case -or solve it himself, he bets he could- and then finish the new specs for the suit wings that Danny’s suit still didn’t have.
Tim fumbled through the doorway, now in civilian clothes, already on a call with Lucius probably, or Tam. Tam helped him a lot.
Danny slouched further into the silence.
It felt like being left behind by his parents.
They had bigger priorities.
Archaeology.
Ghosts.
Danny shook his head, opening the computer and letting Ted Tobin fish through the passwords for case files.
He’s nearly 3 hours deep when he really pauses for the first time, finally stopping the continuous notes sitting next him, each a different clue. Most for different cases.
The current case pulled up on his screen scratches at him, facts slotting into place with rapid fire precision.
The officer assigned to the case is a vet.
The case is perpetrated by a senatorial candidate.
The officer assigned served on three active fronts and 2 undisclosed.
The guilty candidate is running support for a bill cutting veteran supports.
Best of all?
It’s not in Gotham.
Danny smiles as Ted Tobin’s plan fills in, piece by piece.
Ra’s Al Ghul should really make it harder to hack into his confidential back market mercenary dealings.
Then again, maybe it was for the better. How else would he make sure Red Robin was able to intercept the assassin in time to save that poor officer’s life the night before his case-closing arrest?
“Detective, I assumed holding my business outside of Gotham would keep it from being the concern of you and yours,” Ra’s’ voice is muffled through the bag over his head, “It seems I was wrong.”
“Oh well, you know me…,” The bag is ripped roughly off his head, leaving him blinking rapidly against the light even as he smirks, “Always butting into things when I shouldn’t. It’s kind of what we do.”
“Tell me, Timothy,” Ra’s says, turning his back to him once more, as he waves his ninjas away, “What does this officer matter to you, more than a state away from your usual stomping grounds? What-“ Ra’s pauses as a different ninja approaches him to whisper in his ear. His body stills.
“Well, we’ll start there. First of all, as I’m sure you just found out, I’m not Timothy,” Danny says, standing up smoothly. He relishes the look Ra’s gives him as he turns around. “And secondly, the officer wasn’t what mattered. Getting you here on the other hand. Now that.. that takes a little more planning.” Danny brushes himself off, removing the cowl to leave just his own domino behind.
Ra’s al Ghul hums, his eyebrow twitching up even as his eyes narrow in suspicion.
“What? No sudden desire to stab? No impromptu attempt to put a sword through my chest?”
“You are curious. So much like the detective, and yet… my people tell me he is currently patrolling in Gotham with the Grayson boy.”
Danny scoffs, “Oh great, another fruit loop interested in me, like I need a new one of those.”
Ra’s’ stare doesn’t change. Albeit a bit more annoyed, but still flat and calm.
“You wanna know what makes me different from Timothy, Ra’s?” Danny pauses, taking a deep breath and letting the ectoplasm ripple inside him for the first time in months. “The difference between me and him,” When he looks up he knows his eyes glow fluorescent green, “Is that I’m stronger.”
Bonus Scene:
Dick stared at Tim’s clone as he left, sweeping past the original’s bleary form stumbling to the coffee machine.
“Are we sure he’s Drake’s clone? He seems… less of a fool,” Damian sneered, watching Tim stand listlessly in front of the cabinet, coffeemaker off, and tablet in hand.
He looked out of the Dining room doors, spotting Danny standing not far away in front of one of the closets by the stairs rather than the actual steps, fingers tapping away.
Damian turned back to his breakfast, “I retract my statement. Clearly his stupidity was simply blinding.”
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eternalterror · 6 months
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pick-a-card: your biggest strengths 💥
• take time to breathe, focus and clear your mind.
• when you feel ready, ask yourself “what are my biggest strengths?”
• if you feel drawn to multiple piles, read them both/all. if you don’t feel drawn to any, then this pick-a-card isn’t for you.
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please let me know if any of this resonates! feedback is greatly appreciated! ❤️
Image 1:
- you recognize your own greatness
- you have good street smarts
- you aren’t afraid to be different and go against the popular opinions.
- you’ve learned how to carry yourself and handle things through your life experiences
- you’re good at guiding yourself and others
- you are able to accept things for what they are
- you aren’t afraid to go through major changes to make way for new beginnings
Image 2:
- your natural beauty
- your good hearted nature and habit of breaking toxic behavior patterns
- your “only god can judge me” type of mentality
- your independence and uniqueness. you’re quite original.
- your willpower, you aren’t the type to fall victim to destructive addictive habits, and if you do, you kick them easier and sooner than most.
- your ability to see things from another perspective
- your faith in the universe or god (although I’m leaning towards god/religion here)
Image 3:
- your adventurous spirit
- your devotion to developing spiritually
- your discipline
- your ability to take the lead and guide others with ease
- your storytelling abilities
- your understanding that money can be destructive as much as it is beneficial, you won’t get swept away by greed.
- your soulfulness
- your passion and devotion
- your loving personality and enthusiasm towards love and other people
- your appreciation of what you have and your appreciation for others
Image 4:
- you have a healthy vengeful spirit, you won’t let people get one over on you or your loved ones
- you aren’t afraid to act first and go after what you believe in
- you’re confrontational
- you may have trust issues or are skeptical of others, but for good reason. it’s protecting you. keep it up.
- you really do keep the snakes away, a lot of the cards are focusing on how good it is free yourself from negative people and destructive social groups, don’t ever feel bad about this.
- you’re a genuinely generous person
- you are tolerant and understanding
- you are respectful and gain a lot of respect in return
Image 5:
- you’re resilient and can handle a lot of mental stress and pressure that would make most crumble
- you can push your body/mind to the limit. this may not be a good thing, but it’s carried you far. learn to take a step back to recuperate though.
- you’re good at coming up with solutions to peoples problems
- you’re strategic and creative yet practical.
- you help people in a way that they’ll appreciate in the long run
- you’re good at going through the motions. highs and lows.
- you know how to make people feel like family or like you really cherish them
- you know how to go with the flow
Image 6:
- you can be very business-minded
- you have good senses and can pick up on things
- you really just don’t let things go over your head
- people think you have boss energy or leadership potential and may treat you as such
- you aren’t afraid to experiment and try things over until you get it right
- you aren’t predictable or conventional
- you aren’t the type to easily be peer pressured or bossed around
- you’re daring and bold with a fighting spirit
- you stand on what you say and can defend your own beliefs
- you have a lot of determination
457 notes · View notes
fierymiasma · 1 year
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❀ And You Look Fetching in Yellow ❀ // Sebastian Sallow x f!MC
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Summary: Hogwarts couples exchange scarves to signify their intention with each other. Unfortunately for Sebastian, MC is new to the whole magic thing.
It's been weeks since Sebastian had gifted her his scarf. And yet nothing romantic has happened between them.
How was she supposed to know that she had to give him something in return?
Part 1: You Look Better In Green
♪ Tags: Slight Dark!Sebastian, angst, sadness, manipulation, making out, heartbreak
Word Count: 5k
|| Masterlist || AO3 ||
"Did you see what the new girl was wearing?"
"Obviously, do I look like I live under a troll's bridge?  The whole school is talking about it!"
Sebastian preened, sitting a bit straighter in his seat.  He had been lounging on a bench with Ominis in the Dark Arts Tower, bored out of his mind.  About ten paces away, a gaggle of 3rd year girls were giggling and loudly whispering amongst themselves.  The student body of Hogwarts never had anything better to do then to guess who started courting who.  Sebastian had never cared much about this (often incorrect) news, having always found it dull. 
But it was looking like Hogwarts was just about to get bit more interesting.
"What was she wearing?" one of the shorter girls asked.
"She was wearing a Slytherin scarf!" another whispered conspiratiously as if it was an unspeakable secret.
There were gasps around the group.  The new Hufflepuff student?  Wearing Slytherin's green and silver scarf?  It could only mean one thing.
"Ohhhh, she's seeing from someone from Slytherin."  There was much fervent whispering.
"I bet so many hearts are crushed now.  Someone finally got to her first."
Sebastian couldn't' help but puff out his chest.  Finally, in his time as a 6th year at Hogwarts, the natural order of things were being corrected.  No longer did he have to worry seeing his Hufflepuff in ugly red and yellow. 
"Who do you reckon gave it to her?" one of the Ravenclaws bounced on the tip of her toes. 
"Well, there's not that many Slytherin boys that she associates herself with."
Sebastian grinned.  He leaned back against the wall, crossing his hands behind his head.  He was constantly next to her side whether that meant on the battlefield or at the library.  His devotion to her had most definitely discouraged any potential suitors who thought they were worthy of wasting her time.  An effortless arm thrown around her shoulder.  His coarse hand tucking a strand of hair behind her ears.  His chin resting on her much shorter head.  Now that the whole school knew that the most amazing girl in all of Hogwarts history was his, Sebastian's worries could finally-
"I heard from someone in Charms that it's Ominis."
Sebastian stilled.  What?
There were squeals of delight.
"Of course!  That makes so much sense! They look so cute together!"
Sebastian scowled.  No they didn't. 
"Awww, I'm so happy for them.  I bet he swept her off her feet!" 
"It's the eyes isn't it?  All the Gaunt kids have those gorgeous eyes."
In Sebastian's personal opinion, blue eyes were incredibly overrated.
"That makes so much sense!  They're always in the library studying together."
One of their voices took a cheekily tone.  "Studying?  Is that what the kids are calling it now a days?"
Yes, Ominis and his Hufflepuff were always studying together, only because Sebastian invited both of his best friends to his study session.
The group of girls all squealed bouncing up and down like a group of Puffskeins.  They were loud and annoying enough that Professor Hecat had opened the doors to her classroom.  With heavy scolding, the professor shooed them outside, to spread their gossip elsewhere in the castle no doubt.
Sebastian felt as though he took a troll club to the head. That was his green scarf around his Hufflepuff.  It was Sebastian's scarf that she was wearing every day.  Not Garret's.  Not Natty's. Not even Ominis's.  It was Sebastian's.  Turning to stare at his best friend, he was startled to find that Ominis was still engrossed in his book.  The other boy looked completely at ease, as if Sebastian's entire life hadn't been entirely upended.
"What," Sebastian spat through gritted teeth, "in Merlin's name, was that all about?"
·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙
The hero of Hogwarts laid on her back like a starfish on the grounds of the Transfiguration courtyard.  Having successfully commandeered a quiet corner of the courtyard with Natty and Poppy, she tried her best to relax between classes.  Poppy was playing with Gerald.  Natty attempted hastily to finish her astronomy homework before the next toll of the bell.  The ancient magic user scowled at the bright blue cloudless sky as if it personally had cursed her.   
She was still wearing Sebastian's scarf.  The new Hufflepuff hadn't taken it off since Sebastian had kindly (or possessively?) wrapped it around her.  His signature bergamot and oak scent was starting to fade. 
She had learned quite quickly the ins and outs of courting at Hogwarts thanks to her friends.  Coming from the muggle world, it was dizzyingly confusing all the fake rules that witches and wizards put upon themselves.  She wasn't sure if it was wizard conservatism or teenage boredom that forced the students of Hogwarts to play these stupid courting games.
Wearing another House's colors was a walking advertisement to the rest of Hogwarts that you were officially being pursued by classmate of another House.  The second that a Gryffindor was caught wearing green and silver or a Ravenclaw was caught wearing red the whole school would erupt in commotion and gossip.  
In her opinion, the student body of Hogwarts needed to go outside more.  Experience some of the real world for once. 
After all it was their coy games that put her in this whole mess.  She thought, as any rational being would, that after a whole year's worth of 'dates', alone, unsupervised, not under the watch of any adult, that something more would come of her relationship with Sebastian.  She had hoped by now she would be wrapped in his strong arms with his green scarf wrapped around the both of them, joining them together. 
She had thought wrong.  Instead, it was the still the same Sebastian.  Teasing tone, seductive one-liners, coy looks when he thought she wasn't watching.  He always held her at an arm's length, never getting too close.  Despite all of his flirty comments, he never made a verbal hint that they were anything more than friends. 
Ugh, this was all so maddening.  If she had it her way, she would march right up to Sebastian, grab him by the beautiful luscious curls of his, and kiss him silly until he finally got the message through that thick skull of his.
"Why isn't my brilliant plan working?"  She whined as she laid beneath the sky, as if hoping it would give her the answers.
"What plan?"  Natty asked, not looking up from her astronomy homework.  "Your mind has been up in the clouds all day."
She groaned, throwing her arm over her eyes to block out the sun.  "Why hasn't Sebastian made a pass at me yet.  For Merlin's sake, we went to Three Broomsticks and Sirona gave us her Valentine's Day Special.  We shared it, together.  Using one spoon, like a couple."
"Have you considered that Sebastian might think you two are actually exclusive?" Poppy interjected.  "I mean, you're wearing his scarf.  That has to count for something."
The new student groaned.  She started ripping the grass next to her in frustration.  "I don't think we're dating.  At least, I don't think Sebastian Sallow is the type to not snog his girlfriend silly when she drops obvious hints."
Poppy made a show of gagging at the thought of her friends making out.  In retaliation, the other Hufflepuff half-hearted threw some of the plucked grass in Poppy's general direction.  The strands lamely flew everywhere but their intended target.
Natty sighed, brushing the grassy debris from her astronomy chart.  "Honestly, Europe is so behind.  Back at home, things were much simpler.  Girls do not have to wait for the man to ask them to be in a relationship!  Anyone could do the asking!  All of this exchanging of clothes is so silly to me.  What if two people from the same House start dating?  Then what? This makes no sense to me."
Poppy hummed in agreement.  "Dating at Hogwarts does seem like such a headache compared to Uganda, Natty.  But," she squeezed Gerald tightly, "you can't deny how cute it is when you see the couples together wearing each other clothing.  They're so mismatched and adorable."  Poppy paused awkwardly.  "Come to think of it, I've never seen Sebastian wearing even a hint of yellow."
The air stilled.  Both Poppy and Natty turned to stare at their friend who was still in the process of pulling out all of the blades of grass in her vicinity.  It was a long awkward moment before the hero of Hogwarts realized that her two good friends were looking at her, expecting a reaction out of the wallowing girl.
"What?" She asked.
Poppy gave her a pitying look.  "You…you did give Sebastian your scarf right?"
The new student blinked owlishly, her hands stilled in their destructive action. 
Natty sighed.  "A hat?  Your tie?  Cufflinks?  Merlin's beard, even your socks would do.  Anything?"
For being a wielder of ancient magic, she sure didn't have a clue as to wizarding culture.  "Um, no?  Was I supposed to?"
Both girls groaned.  Natty shook her head, disappointed in the lack of charisma her friend had.  Poppy looked at her pitifully as if she was the runt of a Niffler litter.
"What?  We're supposed to trade scarves?  Who made up that rule?  Is that why Sebastian hasn't made a move on me?"
"YES!"  The other girls replied, getting fed up with the drama.
"No one told me about this!"
The three girls bickered back and forth, homework now entirely forgotten.  So lost in debate, they missed the Slytherin that was approaching them.
Imelda Reyes, captain of the Slytherin team, stood in front of them, interrupting the trio of girls.  "Oh good, the losers are all gathered together."  She looked rather bored as if she would rather be on the field than here.
Poppy frowned.  Gerald stuck his tongue out at the offending girl.  "Imelda, why do you keep calling your only friends at Hogwarts losers?"
Imelda ignored the remark, flipped her hair behind her shoulders.  "It keeps the fans in line.  Got to remind you lot of your place."
The Slytherin girl turned her sights onto the other Hufflepuff who was still wallowing in the grass in self-pity.  "Anyway, I came to collect on my good deed.  Some token of appreciation would be nice.  Even a thanks would do."
The Hufflepuff sighed.  She pinched her nose in frustration at the annoyance that was Imelda Reyes.  Rolling over to her side, she faced the Slytherin captain.  She propped up her chin on her hand.  Nothing that Imelda ever have to share was interesting.  "Imelda, what is it now?  Why should I be groveling at your feet for this time?"
"You should be thanking me for saving your relationship with Sallow."  Imelda nonchalantly stated.
The new girl spluttered, her chin slipping off of her hand and hitting the ground.  She made a pained noise, rubbing at the growing bruise.  "Excuse me?"
"You heard me."  Imelda inspected her glossy green nails.  "It's painful to see you two fumbling about like Quidditch little league toddlers.  I just gave a gentle nudge in the right direction."
The bottom of her stomach was in free-fall.  Imelda "helping" was never a good thing, despite what the Slytherin believed.  "Imelda, what did you do?"
Imelda grinned.  "Oh, you know, just started a rumor that Ominis was the one who gave you the scarf."
She finally sat up.  Bits of grass stick to the Hufflepuff's hair.  "Why on earth would you do that, Imelda?  The whole school is going to think that Ominis is courting me!"
"Indeed."
Natty frowned.  "I have to admit.  I do not see the game you are trying to play.  How does that help our friend?" 
Imelda rolled her eyes.  It was sometimes frustrating being the only Slytherin of their girl group.  They were so slow to stack the odds to get what they wanted.  They were so narrow-minded as they achieved their goals, seeing only a couple paths towards victory instead of the millions of possibilities Imelda always saw.
"Boys like Sallow are easy to manipulate.  Start a rumor that his best friend is seeing the love of his life, and the boy will make sure to do everything in his power to correct the record."  Imelda flicked off a speck of dirt on her otherwise well-polished nails.  "He'll come crawling back to you in a week tops."
Poppy oo'ed in approval, clapping excitedly at the new development.  Natty shot her a judging look.  Poppy dropped her "oo's" to a respectful volume.
The other Hufflepuff gaped in silence, at a loss for words.  "Sebastian's one of the smartest people I know.  He can pick up even the most difficult spells on the first try." She crossed her arms.  "He's too smart to fall for your tricks, Imelda."
Her compatriots were silent. Natty, Poppy, and Imelda ginned and looked at each other deviously.  Poppy was the first to bust out in laughter, causing the other two to join in.  The offended girl scowled behind her green scarf, annoyed.
The Hufflepuff rolled her eyes.  "You all think so low of him.  I'm telling you, Sebastian's not the type to care about this sort of petty thing.  You'll see."
"Oh, we'll see alright." Imelda sneered.  "I bet my best broomstick that your Slytherin will come crawling back to you on his knees.  Why I bet he's foaming at the mouth right now."  
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Sebastian was practically foaming at the mouth.  He wanted to scream and pull his hair out.  Back in the sanctuary of his dorm room, he could finally take off the mask of indifference he'd been wearing all day.  Ever since he eavesdropped on the rumors surrounding the new student, they have followed him incessantly, mocking him.  It seems like all the students, all the professors, even the godforsaken portraits were talking about the 'newest couple in Hogwarts'.  How on earth that anyone could see her and Ominis actually together was beyond him. 
Speaking of Ominis, Sebastian glanced over at his friend who was sitting comfortably in his own bed, reading a book in braille.  Ominis looked serene as if he was above the petty comments of the commoners of Hogwarts.
Suspiciously aloof in Sebastian's opinion.
"How are you not bothered by all of this?" Sebastian asked.  He squinted his eyes, trying to see if he could catch Ominis in the act of trickery.
Ominis sighed, marking his place in his book before closing it with an air of finality.  He had foolishly hoped that the silly rumors going around Hogwarts wouldn't upset his best friend too much.  The students of Hogwarts were constantly talking Sebastian after all.  Gossiping about his charm around the female students, about his duels, about him getting detention for the second time that week.  Sebastian was never bothered by gossip, seeming revealing in it.
This rumor was different, it would seem.
"I'm not sure what you're on about."  Ominis tried.
Sebastian could smell something was up.  "Don't you play dumb with me.  You know exactly what I'm referring to.  The whole school thinks our new friend is seeing you.  Now, I believe that the heresy isn't true."  Sebastian's voice threatened to crack.  "Is there any reason to believe otherwise?"
The accused boy huffed, rolling his eyes.  "Merlin, Sebastian, you really live up to the infamous Slytherin jealousy."
"Don't you avoid the subject."  Sebastian said.
Ominis frowned, confused.  "Why don't you just correct the rumors?  Haven't you been courting her the whole time?"
Sebastian scowled, turning away from his friend, hiding the disappointment on his face.  He'd thought that everything was going so well.  Her secretive smiles and stolen glances whenever she thought Sebastian wasn't looking her way.  The way she stared openly and unapologetically mid-duel as his muscles strained under the force of his spells.
"No, we're just friends, Ominis." Sebastian responded stiffly.  "That's all there is too it." 
Sebastian had thought that she returned his affections, especially when she accepted his scarf, a calling card of his intentions to woo her.  He thought things were going even better when she invited him to an date to Three Broomsticks, reminiscing about their first of many troll attacks.  Sebastian thought the date had gone perfectly when he walked her like a gentleman to her dorm.
It wasn't until she bid him a cordial, kind but only friendly, goodbye that he had realized how wrong he was.  She had not returned to give Sebastian her own yellow and black scarf, a token of her acceptance towards the courting.  And Sebastian had stood in front of the wine casket that hid the Hufflepuff common room, scarfless, lamenting in what an absolute fool he had been.
Ominis's frown deepened.  "Enough of this nonsense, Sebastian.  She's interested in you.  I mean, half of the female population is.  I can hear the way you two talk to each other."
Sebastian chuckled darkly.  "If that were true, I'd be wearing a yellow scarf."
It had stung.  The blatant, but very gentle rejection that she had given him.  Sebastian wasn't raised to be a troll to woman, and Anne had taught him to be better than his peers, so he allowed himself a few days to wallow before swallowing his pride.  It was privilege enough that she would be friends with him after all that had happened in their 5th year.
He was an idiot for thinking that someone as amazing as her would want to be with someone who's done so much bad as him.
Ominis shook his head.  "I'm sorry, Sebastian, but I am convinced that something is afoot between the two of you.  As both your friend and her friend, I can say without a shadow of doubt that the feelings are mutual.  I think the time for games is finished.  You must confess your feelings towards her."
Sebastian scoffed at the ridiculous notion.  It's like Ominis wasn't even listening to him.  Sebastian had literally just finished explaining how not interested she was in him.
"Gyffindors don't have a monopoly on courage, Sebastian."  Ominis chided.  "We Slytherins are brave enough to get what we want.  We always have been."
Sebastian narrowed his eyes.  He could feel the venom on his tongue.  "Oh?  How's courting my sister working for you?"
Sebastian wasn't sure what reaction he was expecting from Ominis.  What Sebastian was for sure not expecting was for a blush to creep its way up Ominis's neck.  His best friend sat ramrod straight, as still as a statute.  Ominis was incapable of schooling his expression and looked like a child who was caught in a lie.
Sebastian's mouth dropped at Ominis's shift in demeanor.  While he had some suspicions over the nature of Ominis's outings beyond Hogwarts grounds, it was a different matter entirely to have confirmation that Ominis was attempting to woo his twin sister. 
The two boys were quiet, frozen in place.  The air in the dorms was stifling and awkward. 
Ominis cleared his dry throat, very comfortable with pretending that he was also selectively deaf.  "Well, anyways, it is my humble opinion that our friend is head over heels for you.  All you need to do is ask."
Sebastian threw up his arms.  He was going to get nowhere with this infuriating boy.  Giving up, he collapsed, face first, on his bed, defeated.
·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙
The Hufflepuff sighed, chewing on the end of her quill.  Sitting on one of the dusty decrepit armchairs of the Undercroft, she relished in these moments of silence.  No one, student, professor, or villager, was asking anything of her.  Instead, she could simply be alone with her thoughts.
Unfortunately, her thoughts often revolved around Sebastian.
She rested her head against her fist and blew a raspberry in frustration.  The parchment before her was riddled with crossed out phrases and giant bleeding blotches of ink where her quill had paused.  She had spent the whole afternoon trying to come up with…something to say to Sebastian.  Four hours of work only to come up with nothing.  Ugh.  Why did words have to be so hard?
Maybe everyone was right.  It would be much easier just to throw him a Hufflepuff jumper and call it a day.
Before she could finalize her thoughts, the iron gates of the Undercroft swung open.  She hastily stuffed the quill and parchment into a random pocket in her bags.  She couldn't help but fix her hair, just in case it was Sebastian.
In walked the very man who had been on her mind all day.  And Sebastian Sallow looked rather miffed.  Hands already clenched in frustrations, he walked up to her.  His eyes trailed up and down her form.
"What are you wearing?" he asked without preamble.
There was a sense of deja vu at the question.  "My school uniform?  Because…I go here?  I'm a Hogwarts student?"
Sebastian frowned.  "Where's your scarf?"
She huffed.  Really?  Out of millions of important things they had to talk about: Sebastian's behavior, Anne, their maybe date, their questionable relationship status.  Her scarf was the thing he chose to fixate on?  "It's warm outside, Sebastian.  Why on earth would I be wearing a scarf in the spring?"
He scowled, now pacing unable to contain his anxiety.  So she decided not to wear his scarf anymore.  What did this mean?  This only proved Sebastian's theory that she did reject his affections.  Ominis's words of encouragement last night only worsened Sebastian's current mood.  Ominis had no idea what he was talking about.  Maybe after all this time, she finally learned the symbolism behind the gifted scarf and was appalled at Sebastian's rather forward claim on her.  Maybe the rumors were to be believed, and she was interested in Ominis.  Maybe her and Ominis "studying at the library together" actually had no studying whatsoever.  Maybe-
His thoughts got interrupted when something rather soft smacked him square in the face.  Whatever the scratchy material was had hit in right in his open eyes.  His eyes watered, stinging at the insult.
"What in Merlin's beard?"  He ripped the offending fabric off his face.
In his hands was a warm, yellow and black striped Hufflepuff scarf.  The one that she had worn throughout the fall.  The one that always managed to hide her teasing smiles and blushes.  It smelled of their shared apple tarts and a bit singed at the edges as if one of her Confringo spells exploded a bit too close for comfort.
It smelled like her. 
He looked up to catch her gaze.  She was leaning with all her weight on one foot with her arms crossed, slightly annoyed at the silly affair.
Sebastian recovered quickly.  He couldn't stop the grin from his face.  He felt like he was back to his old self, just like how he was when the two of them first met.  "Well, well, I was waiting for you to pay me back eventually.  Nice to know that Hufflepuffs have some manners."
She huffed, tired of these games and double-speak.  "You know, if you don't want it, you can always give it back."
"Now hold on,"  Sebastian cut her off, already wrapping it possessively around his neck in intricate woven pattern so tight so she couldn't even separate it from him if he tried.  "I never said I didn't appreciate the gift."
She rolled her eyes.  Walking up to him, she picked at the scarf on instinct, fluffing it in a more comfortable manner for him.  "This is frankly so dumb." 
He hummed in delight at his Hufflepuff fussing over him.  With her so close to him now, he felt like a purring Kneazle.  "Well, as dumb as you think it is, I think I look rather fetching in yellow.  Don't you think so, sweetheart?"
She choked on her spit, hands frozen on her scarf.  She missed the safety of the green and silver scarf that allowed her to hide her expressions from the world around her.  With a scarlet face, she muttered.  "Sebastian Sallow, you know I find you attractive."
Sebastian smirked, preening under her words.
Whatever speech she had drafted now forgotten in favor of venting her frustrations out onto him.  "You should also know that you drive me absolutely bonkers.  I just can't believe we had to go through this whole song and dance.  Merlin, I've been drunk on the Amortentia that is you, Sebastian Sallow, for a whole two years now." Her hands tighten the grip that she had on hers (now Sebastian's?) yellow scarf.  "I've been in love with you ever since you first took me to Hogsmeade.  Merlin's beard, Sebastian, I've taken you as my companion to every poacher duel I can think of.  We explore the most dangerous dungeons together.  We fight off foul Acromantulas together.  And it takes a silly yellow scarf for you to finally realize my feelings for you?"
She finally looked up at him, her fierce eyes finding his.  What she wasn't expecting was a rare moment of vulnerability on Sebastian's face.  The confident charming boy before her looked uncertain all of a sudden.
His rough hands reached up to gently meet hers, holding her in place.  "Why would someone as good as you want someone who's done so much evil like me?"
And therein laid the truth of Sebastian's fears.  If the savior of Hogwarts was too good for people as dull and drab as Garreth or Prewett, then in what world would she want to be with someone who had so much blood on his hands as Sebastian?  No, she deserved the best.  And it certainly wasn't someone like him.
She was flabbergasted.  She was so used to the Sebastian Sallow she first met.  The boy whose Slytherin ambitions urged him to greedily take what was rightfully his.  Where was the young brash and carefree optimistic boy whose boldness and forwardness had charmed her? 
She gently removed her hands from his.  His expression was caged off from her.  Gently, she reached up to caress his face, angling his chin slightly downwards so he could look at her in the eye.  He turned to her, like a wilting flower dying for the sun.  The walls around him melted as his knitted brow soften to look at her.
"Sebastian, you are rash and reckless.  You are possessive and incredibly jealous, even though you have no reason to be."  The other boy looked away, trying to pull away from her.  She held his chin in place forcing him to look at her.  He looked gorgeous in yellow. 
"You're also the most devoted person I know, devoted to Ominis, to Anne, to me.  You fight so fiercely to protect what is yours both on the battlefield and off of it.  Everything you have done, both the good and the awful, has been because of your love.  Everything that you are, your recklessness, your kindness, has been because of your love, your devotion to those that you care for.  How could I not fall in love with you?"
The bright joyous colors brought a sunny aura to his usual darkened expressions.  The Hufflepuff scarf around his neck made him look lighter, more open to the possibilities around him.  The hues of yellow reflected the golden flecks that were hidden in his brown eyes.
He scoffed, trying not to think too hard at her words, not willing to break into a million pieces in front of her.  "You are so brilliant, sweetheart, you could have anyone you wanted in the world.  I'm just a boy from some hamlet who couldn't even save his sister."
Her shoulders softened.  Oh, Sebastian.  "That's not true.  I am here with you, Sebastian.  I am choosing to be here with you.  I will always choose to be here with you, in this moment."
He could see her eyes dip down to look at his lips.  And with that, it was like the weak dam to his flood of emotions was broken.  He surged forward catching her lips in his.  His hands flew up to cup both sides of her face, marveling at the beauty he was holding.  She responded in turn, throwing her hands around his neck.  She met the storm that was Sebastian with equal ferocity.  Her lips pressed forward, almost bruising him with the passionate intention behind it. 
He could feel the curl of her smile against his.  Her long eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks as if they were kissing the freckles that they found there.  She smelled of their shared apple tarts, and her lips were warm against his.  In her arms, he felt safe, like the world was created just for the two of them.
Lungs dying, he could barely stand ripping himself away from her.  He rested his forehead against hers, not wanting to let go of this moment even for a second.  His thumb was still caressing her cupped face, marveling at the miracle that was the savior of Hogwarts. 
"You should know, you are never getting your scarf back."  Sebastian quipped. 
She let out a breath of laughter.  Sebastian eagerly chased it with another quick kiss.  Later, much, much later, after he was finished kissing his darling silly, he'll walk out the Undercroft with a yellow scarf around his neck holding hands with his Hufflepuff wearing that green scarf of hers. 
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wroteclassicaly · 1 year
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Nancy decided she didn’t want Steve. And now that she’s been away from Jonathan, has seen the growth Steve had to go through from everything he experienced (trauma, torture, being cheated on, thrown into the upside down shit, not to mention what he was going through before all of that, etc), he’s suddenly worthy of still being in love with? Don’t mess me with that shit, sis. Steve was never a bad boyfriend, nor was he a bad person. Before I started the show I expected some MAJOR douchebag that fucked his gf and then left her when he got what he wanted. Man’s only downfall was calling Jonathan names and being an asshole to other people (not counting him breaking Jonathan’s camera. He deserved it for taking those pics of Nancy and y’all know it).
He approached Nancy the very next day after he took her virginity to check on her. He constantly apologized when it wasn’t his fault. He only lashed out when he was hurt (rightfully so), and when he realized what nasty people Carol and Tommy were — he ditched them. Could he have handled Barb’s death better — sure. But he was also dealing with it, probably confused and pushing it down, and he tried to make things seem normal for Nancy’s sake, and for his own.
This shit of Nancy being jealous of Robin was so ignorant that I almost puked. And this was before I even finished the series. I knew I didn’t like Stancy when I watched the first two episodes (4x09 and 1x01). Nancy has to claim over Steve. Their individual growths should NOT be entwined. If you look at the inconsistency in trying to resurrect that ship, it almost seems like the D bros hate Nancy and Steve.
Their reunion will undo so much shit, and in my opinion, will destroy them. Not to mention that Steve will probably sacrifice himself in the name of Nancy and her future (avoiding the white picket fence garbage she didn’t want, whilst still getting their Stancy resurrection). They stripped Steve of his goals, his aspirations, they made him seem like he couldn’t date anyone, degraded him, swept his trauma under the rug, made him the butt of everyone joke, made it seem as if he’s uneducated and ignorant. It breaks my heart how mistreated Steve is, and by trying to force him and Nancy back together — that is the biggest injustice that can be done towards them both, but mainly to him.
Steve deserves to find himself, to find his interests, to process his trauma, to find someone that he loves beyond nostalgia, that won’t come back to him after she’s already grown and realizes that this changed version is good enough.
Nancy deserves more than that.
But Steve Harrington deserves it all.
Joe Keery is the reason Steve was kept around, and I feel like this is just awful to do to the work he’s put in at making Steve the heart of this group of characters. ❤️🥺
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cat3ch1sm · 2 months
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This is so awkward, but I was wondering if you could write hcs for if the reader called L, Mello, Near, and Matt "daddy" or "sir" or something else along those lines during sex? 😭 (if not that's totally fine I just got a mental image of Mello being like "what-" and I'm seeking other opinions lol)
🐸~ loll!! don't worry i have gotten much worse requests than this, this isn't at all awkward. this request seemed fun lol i hope u enjoy! i love u lots and thanks for ur support<33
nsfw ahead, gn!reader, sub!reader
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how they'd react to being called daddy/sir during sex~ wammy boys
matt
~ it just slipped from your lips in the heat of the moment. you had been really hazy and a bit delirious and matt had been deep inside you when it just popped out. and yes, it did catch him by surprise for about half a second since he wasn't expecting it and it wasn't something you'd ever called him before. but in the same half a second he was caught off guard, matt decided he loved it. he doesn't say anything about it in the moment, but it was the way you said it, with your shaky voice barely coherent and your pretty eyes crossed, overwhelmed with pleasure. matt takes it as a sign that he's doing a really good job, and best believe he makes it his mission to get one of those out of you again every time you two get intimate. on the other hand, expect pretty relentless teasing about it. matt both finds it amusing and a hell of a turn on how easily he can get you off, how he can make you just lose yourself like that.
~ "hey, matt, can you get that over there for me?"
~ "don't you mean daddy?"
~ "you are the worst."
mello
~ mello is someone who enjoys being in control during sex. so when you moan that in this pathetic, trembling voice, pleading with tears pricking the corners of your eyes for him to keep going, it's really such a rush for him. the brief moment of surprise at the unexpected title is quickly swept away by the surge of pride, almost arrogant in its nature. you've fully surrendered yourself to him; your pleasure is in his hands; you've acknowledged his power over your body. he'll probably get rougher in the moment, and later on in future intimate encounters he'll outright make you say it, denying you any release until you do, over and over and over.
near
~ although near does usually prefer it when you both are equals during sex, he can't help the swell of satisfaction in his heart when you call him that. after all, he has an ego like every other man on this list, and near gets something out of being at least somewhat in control, even in your sexual encounters where he does normally prefer not for anyone to be dominant. it's not like he needs to hear you say it every time, but near certainly doesn't mind when you do. besides, it means you like what he's doing and he's making you feel good, which is what he wants most.
ryuzaki
~ he probably spends the most time being surprised out of anybody else on this list. he doesn't have anything against it- besides, it would probably kill the mood if ryuzaki paused mid-sex to ask about it and what brought it on- but he just is somebody who likes having answers. so he may or may not literally interview you about it later- did he do something different? is that something that might happen again? what prompted you to call him that? he must know, even if you can hardly even sit up or form a full sentence yet.
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httpiastri · 4 months
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I need an opinion on a thought that’s been brewing and as saviour of the Paul girlies i think you may be the only one for the job…
Yeah ima just spit it out : Paul Aron size kink
I could leave it there however i simply do not want to I have too many thoughts, i mean obviously First his hands like oh my god??? How FUCKING TALL he is, how fucking built, also his back omg it is so big and I am SO attracted to it like honestly i could take the best nap of my life on there!!!!!! WEARING HOS CLOTHES!!!!!! And he just feels all protective and territorial because he never realised how much smaller than him you were till he sees you wearing his clothes making them look huge!!!! Him realising that it’s making him feel some kinda way iykwim cause he’s literally so much bigger and stronger, and not only is he bigger and stronger but also you trust him so fully anyway (please dont feel any pressure to respond if you dont wanna, and verry sorry about my English lol)
bestie you’re doing god’s work 🙏 thank you SO much for this oh my god. my brain stopped working for quite some time because i loved this too much. i love you, whoever you are <3<3
(headcanons are under the cut because yes, i went a little overboard. but as i said, i loved this too much......guys pls keep the paul asks incoming, they're literally making my days)
(oh and 18+ below. 😁)
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– when he starts to realize how big his hands look on you, he won't be able to keep them away from you. he's always got a hand on your body.
– he's driving? a hand on your thigh. you're in public? a hand wrapped around your waist. out with friends? your hand is intertwined with his, no questions asked.
– when holding your hands, he's so surprised every time. he forgets that your hands are that small and the way that his fingers fill the gaps between yours makes him feel so special.
– he loves the way it looks when his hands wrap around the inside of your thighs, and how easy it is for him to pry your legs apart. his palms cover up most of your skin, fingers fitting right along your curves and folds.
– he loves holding both of your wrists in just one of his hands above your head as the other palms your bare ribs. he loves wrapping a hand around your neck, his thumb brushing up and down the front of your throat, feeling your pulse and breaths under his finger. he loves the way he can grab so much of your hair in just one hand.
– he loves using his hands and fingers to rile you up, to pleasure you, to make you feel so so good.
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– the first time he saw you wearing his clothes, he almost combusted. his eyes widened so big you thought they would pop out of their sockets…
– it made him realize just how much bigger he is. like, he knew he was tall, but is the difference really THIS big? when he sees you wearing that hoodie of his that's been getting kind of tight recently when he's been putting in some extra work in he gym, and it's so long on you it meets the middle of your thighs, he's swept off his feet. he almost doesn't believe it.
– of course, after that, he thinks he's going to be a little sneaky about it and 'forget' clothes at your place every once in a while. the first time it happens, you text him like "hey, your sweater is here, do you want me to bring it over?" but he tells you it's no stress and that you can keep it for a while… and it makes you suspicious at first, until you realize what he's doing.
– and of course, you can't help but give in to the temptation. you do want to wear his clothes, too, after all. so the next time he comes over, you're wearing said sweatshirt, and his jaw practically drops to the floor when you open the door for him and you're looking up at him with those sweet, innocent eyes.
– so after that, it becomes a habit. he's got a bunch of clothes at your place, and you love wearing them. and when he wears a shirt he's seen you wear, he always feels a bit special. "she looked so tiny in this… but it fits me so well…"
– he gets so protective in some way, because he suddenly sees you as someone so small and in need of protection. he never wants anything or anyone to bother his sweet little baby ever again.
– and it's not just shirts, but also sweatpants and most other clothes too. whenever you're out and you 'forget' to bring a jacket of your own, he always offers you his. and you always practically drown in the material, making his heart flutter so hard.
– i also think he would freak out if you wore his boxers… (in a good way)
– he would get so so riled up if you wore his clothes but nothing underneath. like a long hoodie but with no pants, or a white t-shirt without a bra…
– he would not survive for long.
– oh and he loves to fuck you in his clothes. but that's a story for another time. :)
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– istg his chest muscles are thicker than the pillows i sleep on…
– anyway
– naps on him would be so good. idk about you all but i love sleeping on hard mattresses 🤭
– he would love having you lie on him. your cheek pressed to his big chest, skin on skin, your soft breath on his neck making him feel so warm inside. feeling his chest rising and lowering as he breathes, your fingers absentmindedly drawing little figures into his skin.
– or why not lie on his back? his shoulders are so broad and he's so tall that most of your body would fit on his back. very cozy.
– and oh my god, giving him back massages. jesus christ, he would go crazy.
– your little hands, your pretty little fingers brushing against his skin. pressing into his muscles, massaging away any knots. feeling the bumps of his spine, the folds of his shoulder blades, every definition of a muscle. he doesn't understand how your small hands can bring him so much pleasure, but he's putty in your hands immediately.
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– just standing next to him is so shocking. like, race car drivers are supposed to be short, what are you doing? who allowed this?
– he towers over you and he always finds it so cute. he loves how you have to get into your tippy toes and pull his face down to be able to kiss him, and the way he can pretend to ignore you and stay out of reach just to annoy you. he loves teasing you (in a lot of ways-) and it's just too easy for him to get a rise out of you when using your size difference.
– and even something as simple as asking him to get that ingredient from the top shelf because you can't reach makes him so smug and cocky. you needing his help and him providing it will never fail to make his day.
– he loves to rest his chin on top of your head. when you're out with friends, when he comes up behind you as you're cooking dinner, any time and any place. especially when also wrapping his big, muscular arms around you from behind, especially when they're around your neck like in the last pic.
– oh, to have you trapped underneath him. he loves hovering over you and caging you between his arms. he loves watching you squirm as he's holding your wrists above your head with one hand, the other running up and down your ribs to pull out shivers and shudders by his touch.
– and the way his hand practically covers up your entire side, the way your frame is so small compared to his… it makes him so impressed because despite how little you are in comparison, you still trust him so deeply?
– he could literally break your neck or femur or whatever bone with his bare hands but here you are, batting your eyes up at him like he's the only man in the world, so sure that he would never do anything to hurt you. and it makes him freak out a bit, but he's also so proud.
– and despite the size difference, you still take him so well? it makes him unbelievably hot.
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sokosmic · 1 year
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Synastry Observations #1
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💕 The Venus - Neptune conjunction brings soulmate energy. There is so much compassion, understanding, and unconditional love between the two of you. Together you may be inclined to escape into your own world. A world filled with art, music, and poetry. A place where your fantasies come to life. The Neptune person may idealize the Venus person. They find Venus beautiful. The Venus person gets swept away in Neptune's fog. The trouble with this aspect is that it can also bring deception and illusions. The ability to see one another clearly may be distorted here. Boundaries may be muddy because of a desire to blend into one.
💕 We often hear bad things about 12th House synastry, but it's honestly one of my favorites. However, I'm biased because I have a 12th House stellium 😏. At any rate...someone's Sun overlaying your 12th House will often shine a light on your spirituality and deep seated (un)consciousness. They can bring an awareness to your spiritual path that may be hidden from you. This is especially true if you have your Moon there. Your intuition and inner knowing is activated by this overlay.
💕 Mercury gets slept on so often because people love to idealize Venus (love) or Moon (feelings) or Mars (attraction) in synastry. But positive Mercury aspects in synastry are by far some of my favorite (I'm Mercurial so I'm biased). Mercury - North Node, Mercury - Moon, and Mercury - Jupiter to name a few. Mercury is often a glue that will assist you with being able to communicate with your partner in a way that you both feel heard and understood and allows you to work through misunderstandings in a healthy way.
💕 'Soft' aspects between Saturn and Venus - Sextile, Trine and sometimes Conjunction (depending on other synastry factors) - can produce a positive binding effect on the relationship of a couple. Saturn is a glue that brings a seriousness needed for endurance. Venus offers appreciation of the love involved. It sings tunes of beauty, art, and gentleness, while Saturn commits to and respects these things. The couple has an innate feeling that the connection is one that will be lasting and will endure tough times.
💕 A person who has their Sun in the sign of your North Node, you will find them attractive. Not necessarily in a sexual or romantic way (although it definitely could be!), but because the Sun person naturally embodies the creativity, vitality, etc. the NN person is striving toward, the NN person can't help but to be attracted to attributes of the Sun person. Depending on where the NN person is in their journey and reaching the attributes of the NN, the Sun person also finds the NN person to be intriguing. This aspect in synastry often indicates lessons to be learned from both individuals.
💕 5th & 11th House overlays are FUN. Planets falling into the 11H in synastry activates the desire to be genuine friends, share friend groups, or be a part of the same organizations or social groups. In the 5H, it activates the desire to take a risk on the connection or create something together...could be children, art, music, or whatever theme of the sign that rules that house.
These are my observations and opinions. Take what resonates and leave what doesn't. Thanks for reading!
-So.Kosmic 👽💜💫
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argisthebulwark · 10 months
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"Are You Two Together?"
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summary: Short pieces of how I think various Skyrim men would react to this question (they're all definitely together) gn reader, no pronouns or y/n used. feat: Brynjolf, Vilkas, Farkas, Arnbjorn, Cicero, Erandur, Balimund, Mercer warnings: slightly suggestive (Brynjolf, Erandur)
You can feel Brynjolf’s confidence skyrocket at the question. One hand sneaks to your lower back to draw you even closer. It’s absolutely the last thing you need - if anyone in the Guild knew about you two it would ruin their opinion of you. Barely getting your footing and already sleeping with your mentor? Ignoring Brynjolf’s cocky grin you clear your throat, trying to banish the heat in your cheeks.  “Of course not.” Your words aren’t exactly convincing when you consider the messy state of your armor and the clear bite marks on his exposed skin. Mercer’s eyes dart between the obvious clues, offering nothing but an unimpressed grunt before turning away.  “Right. That would be unprofessional.”
“Absolutely not.” Vilkas answers despite the hand clasped in yours. You fight to stifle a laugh at his staunch refusal to share his personal life with others. “We’re clearly coworkers. Why would you ask such a question?”  “Well, you’re -” the poor recruit stammers into silence when Vilkas' glare turns to them. You’ll chastise him after the lad returns to his group of whelps across the hall but you know how much he delights in someone thinking he’s frightening.  “The Harbinger’s relationship status is none of your business.” His tone is curt, a contrast to the delicate way his thumb traces over the back of your hand. “Now leave us.”
“Yeah, I’m courting them.” Farkas snorts at the question. He thought it was fairly obvious - the two of you were practically joined at the hip. On the rare occasion one of you left Jorrvaskr without the other he swept you into his arms upon returning. He sat dutifully at your side while you sorted through the mess of being a Harbinger, planning out training routines or sharpening his sword.  “Hear that, love? I’m courting you.” Turning that dazzling grin on you, Farkas places an exaggerated kiss on your hand. “Many apologies for skipping a few steps.”
“Why?” Neither confirming nor denying Arnbjorn continues with his work, fully ignoring the conversation. As you’ve spent many days before you’re perched on his workbench, parchments spread around you entirely in his way. He’s grumbled about the mess a few times but hushes when you retort that he is far more interesting.  “Why would you think Arnbjorn and I are together?” Sharpening your tone, you needle the young trainee with the question. You see uncertainty in the way he glances between you and Arnbjorn’s tense back.  “Well, some of the others were talking.”  “What do you think about that?” Arnbjorn pauses at your teasing tone, a gruff hand on your thigh as he reaches for the correct tool. The poor recruit looks ready to bolt. “Sounds like a ridiculous rumor.”
Cicero is absolutely overjoyed at the question. The mere thought of others knowing he is with his Listener, of being associated with the one he loves! He’s practically bouncing at your side, hand grasping yours to his chest while you await whatever he’s got to say.  “Is it so obvious?” He sighs dramatically, a softness in his voice usually reserved just for you. “Oh, truly Cicero is quite the lovesick fool. It appears everyone has learned that the Listener owns his silly heart.” 
“As a Priest of Mara, I love all of her lady’s subjects.” Erandur’s practiced words do nothing to hide the telltale marks you’d left on his throat. The skin’s a tender reminder of the night before - you sneaking through the temple into his chambers, his words like prayers promising whatever you wish as long as you keep touching him. Clearing his throat Erandur forces himself to refocus on the acolyte standing before him. “I would never allow them special privileges due to any personal feelings.” 
“Never would’ve thought to put a label on it.” Balimund would surely get a kick out of the question. You don’t mind the interest - after the amount of time you’ve dedicated to him during your increasing visits to Riften it’s hardly a secret. You never intended on sharing your relationship with strangers but Balimund’s reliable hand on your shoulder or the way you lean into his chest in the market must’ve drawn some eyes. You’d never discussed your relationship, simply aware of shared feelings.  “I guess we are.” He answers and that soft smile is enough to warm your heart. 
“No,” Mercer lies through his teeth. You’d likely act no different if asked such a question - there’s too much at stake. If one lie unravels the others will surely follow. If anyone begins to speculate about your romantic entanglement with the Guild Master there’s no telling what else they could uncover. Ignoring the little twinge of hurt in your chest you return to your practice dummy, sure that you’ll say the same if they aren’t convinced.  “I hardly know their name.” He scoffs, kicking a foot up on his desk. “No special treatment around here.” 
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strawberrymochin · 7 days
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I will be back soon~
Genre- fluff, angst...umm yeah whatever synopsis- kento's baby fever (sorry)
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Kento Nanami having a baby fever was sort of unexpected. Ever since you had known him from his emo canon phase, till his enlightenment of every job in world being shitty, he's a person to get straight to the point. Speak his mind without any barriers of people's opinions.
when you first saw him, among the busy crowds of the station along with bunch of people in similar uniform like him, you chuckled a bit to yourself noting his golden bangs. He looked at you once with a glare as you drop your head down, embarrassed, trying not to make the fact that you were staring at him obvious.
You never saw him after that day of rush hour in 2006.
As time went by, this encounter of you with the sullen guy with blonde side swept bangs had dust fallen over till the memory of it blurred completely from your vision.
Up until 2016, where in a buisness trip back to Tokyo led you to a person, striking a sense of familiarity. 'The Emo Blondie' you recognised from ten years ago.
"Is something wrong, miss? You've been staring at me for past five minutes." He said maintaining a calm demeanor, as blood rushed to your cheeks, ears red burning with embarrassment. "Oh no, I'm fine.....I was ah kinda zoned out." You say blocking your face from his view with the flies you held in your hand.
Insignificant. The memory was totally insignificant— however the evocation came out vividly crisp. As if the picture of that past encounter was engraved in your mind and this meeting with him blew gust of wind, blowing off the dust accumulated over it.
He has always been straight to the point. As mentioned earlier, he even voiced out whenever you got flustered working with him; when he bends down to your desk, hands caging you from both sides as he uses one to show you what changes shall you make in the proposal; his breath would brush on the nape of your neck, sending shivers down your spine, "I think you should focus on the proposal, rather than shying away."
"Huh?"
He would simply walk away. And what annoyed you the most was his same neutral calm expression. Does his manner never falters? He drives you in such embarrassing situations that you would effing wish to die on that moment. Such a menace.
Better start to avoid him. That was your initial plan, which you put to use, ignoring nanami and cutting out any situation where you have to face each other; going for help to other employees rather than the one you're assisted to— 'kento nanami' ofcourse; refusing on lunch together with the group whenever he used to join; avoiding even to look at him.
You thought you were doing good. There were no more embarrassing situations, now that you keep your distance from the so called past emo guy. You were happy life was back in track again.
That night you were working overtime. Finishing it you strech yourself, gathering your bag to go back home, humming to a tune, walking up to the elevator.
The gate opened and your smile dropped. Inside standing was kento nanami— same expression. The air went awkward, tension rising, he kept staring at you with a frown.
"Are you getting in or not?"
"Ah— I am." You give in, actions suddenly involuntary. The doors closed. None of you spoke for a while, till his velvet voice broke the threads of stillness tangling around.
"Are you purposely ignoring me?" His voice sent shivers down your spine, as your eyes widen to look at him. Oh no— you're going red again. I mean how the fuck you're not supposed to, if he's leaning on the elevator walls, with that tight shirt, two buttons open from the collar with a loose tie looped around showing off his pretty collar bones.
"Wha— no" you blatantly lie.
"Lie," he comes closer, dangerously closer till your back touches the cold surface of the elevator, "you obviously seem to avoid my presence."
"Th— that's not the c-case. You see I ahh" your voice falls as his tongue swipes over his pursed lips. "Mhm? I see what?" You want to answer, but the words won't just come out throat.
"You know what I see? I see you having a crush on me which you are hesitant to act upon...." That's it you were done. You passed out of embarrassment. And the next thing you know, when you regain your consciousness is you laying on a bed with warm blankets draped upon, in an unknown bedroom, which you now recognise as your boyfriend's.
"Dating is shit," He said, "but we can try."
It's been two years now you're dating. Nanami started being a sorcerer again as it suited his tastes and you were happy you won't have to listen him venting "work is shit."
You held your pregnency test, hand shaking, as it showed two lines— positive. Nanami wanted a baby, though he never said it directly, but through these blissful years you have learned to pick up on his unspoken words.
You were not ready for a baby. You weren't even married yet. You still had a career, goals to fulfill. However, tears brimmed up your eyes, of unmatchable joy. You couldn't wait to see the look you on your boyfriend's face as you reveal it to him.
Will he be happy? You were nervous. But indeed there was no doubt he wouldn't. His face would creak up, eyes creasing as lips form a huge smile, grabbing your waist spinning you around with joy. Kissing you telling you're the most beautiful blessing to him.
You remember once he told you about his dream when you asked about it randomly. He said he wanted to settle somewhere in Malaysia, with you. So simple yet so beautiful. Maybe it's time to fulfill it. You and nanami, settling in Malaysia as a mini version of you both joins soon. Have a family.
You couldn't wait to see him in the evening near Shibuya as you had a date night with him after he finishes with something that got him engaged real quick. He kissed your forehead before leaving, "I will be back soon." He said inhaling your scent from the crook of your neck.
You hurried to Shibuya, making sure not to forget the pregnancy test with you— a bow wrapped around it. You chuckle being impatient to see his reaction.
Your eyes scanned around to spot the familiar blonde hair. You don't know why people seemed to be in a rush. Unable to find your boyfriend you tilt your head in confusion.
You stroll around trying to find him. The air smells weird, sort of metalic, like— blood. A unsettling feeling crossed your heart. The station seems oddly quite, you turn your head trying to spot people, till you step on something mushy— a hand. It was a human hand you stepped on.
You stumble back, wanting to scream. Blood is scattered everywhere with sliced dead bodies of people. Dread strikes you—"Please don't be here. Please don't be here. Please nanami." — and among the dead bodies you spot him, standing covered in bruises. Half body burnt as a guy had his hand on his back. A wicked smile on his face.
You stilled as nanami looked at you for a second then looking somewhere else. He didn't recognise you from far. It seemed like he's in a daze.
No— you can't just stand there. You have to go and tell him. Tell him that he's going to be a father. Tell him you guys will be shifting to malaysia. Living his dream life.
You take one step towards him, trying to voice out his name— but it's useless. You couldn't.
Your boyfriend's body burst into pieces— the one you cuddled with every night, his crimson red blood splattered everywhere, just infront of your eyes— and you could do nothing. Nothing but stand.
The guy behind him noticed you, smirking deviously, but decided to ignore and run after a pink haired guy as you fall on your knees.
You crawl upto the bloody mess, of your boyfriend. Tears fell down your face as you hand touches him— his blood— smearing it on your face. He looked beautiful— even when he was half burnt. His blood was the darkest shade of red you've ever seen.
Why does everything has to be like this? You didn't even get to tell him about his baby, growing in your womb. You didn't get to see him smile. You didn't get to start a family with him.
'I will be back soon.' He said before leaving.
"You lied." You manage to let out between sobs.
Years passed after that incident. Nanami left this world, but his baby joined it. Your son has the same hair as him, which you like to style in the emo hairstyle in which you first saw his dad.
You shifted to malaysia after that, protecting your son, the only reason for you to live— living namami's dream, which you made yours.
a/n- sorry | ごめん なさい
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rusmii · 3 months
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⌞ઇଓ⌝ ─── 𝓭𝓮𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓭𝓮𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓵𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓯𝓪𝓬𝓮 .ᐟ
when an artist from russia is hired to paint the portrait of the first daughter of [Surname], how will their relationship pan out as they start to get to know each other?
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𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬. painter!fyodor x fem!reader, fluff, reader is a rich girl, fyodor is a foreigner, founding father language, fyodor character exploration, renaissance au.. I think
𝐩𝐬. haihai special early valentines gift for @aureatchi <3 luv ya revrev. NOT edited/proofread. was supposed to be longer, but I got tired and cut it💔
wc: 1.4k
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“From where?” A question sprung from her chest.
“From Rus’, my lady,” the butler of [Surname] answers for him. Though her outward expression told him enough, Fyodor took this initiative to smile in respect.
“Yes, sir is correct — I am indeed from Rus’. Nice to meet the fair lady of [Surname].”
In quick addition, Fyodor bows slightly as he takes your hand into his. The gentle kiss placed on top of your white laced gloves still didn't seem to sway your opinion on him, however. How unfortunate.
After acknowledging his confirmation, Fyodor is swept away by the butler as you were with the maidens of the mansion.
Outside of the mansion was absolutely breathtaking. Circling around the fountain and to the main entrance of the tea house, Fyodor admires the new freshness of warm spring flowers.
Akin to that of his homeland, the flowers here in your country serve to be much more beautiful — as beautifully breathtaking as you are.
No third party opinion can convince him otherwise, that's for sure.
But for now, Fyodor must focus on his main job at hand; to draw a portrait of you.
It wasn't a hard job, per say. No, it was very much easy if he said so himself. But what really composed the challenge was the subject of fine details.
When an artist paints, you can easily follow along the very first few blobs of wet paint — the muse being satisfied from just a few pecks of fine strokes and a little bit of color here and there to liven up the look.
But those large specks of blobs soon turn into smaller little blotches of paint that are scattered everywhere on the canvas the higher the muse is willing to pay.
A very fine example of that would be you. A very demanding lady who expects the finest of quality works to be subjected to you when you're the main attraction.
While some had something to say about your ridiculous demands, Fyodor liked to say the opposite.
Because in his eyes, what other artists lacked was the fundamentals of the person doing the art.
It wasn't just confident brush strokes or the signature style of a person's canvas.
No, it was patience.
What others lacked was what he had acquired since birth.
And to him, that was exactly why many artists weren't able to meet your expectations. Why you were so disappointed when you first saw the finished product of your portrait.
Every single pretty piece of you just wasn't you. It was of another girl sitting in your place with the more descriptive details of your face.
In short, he thinks every self-proclaimed artist in your kingdom should rot for even daring to pick up the brush.
Ugly, so ugly that it had become ridiculous. Every pass by on the street, did Fyodor run into these cheap street artists that did nothing but sketch the outline of your body and called it a day.
Every corner turned was a portrait shop in the periphery of his vision. Even then, the finished product looked absolutely hideous.
He now saw why he was desperately called upon from your maidens despite his absent leave.
If he was judgested from the displays of art this kingdom had to offer, then he could guess how horrible you were feeling when you found out that the arts were just disrespected inside the premise of this land.
“We've arrived. Please do try not to fight with each other.” Announcing the arrival of his company, Fyodor bows, and thanks the butler for escorting him. “Thank you for going out of your way to escort me here, sir.”
A smile made its way on the butler's face. ‘Seems as if he's not used to these praisments,’ Fyodor thinks before waving the butler off from sight.
Now that he was alone, he set his eyes on the double wooden door. Its gorgeous carved craft made him question why the artists just weren't up to par as other vapa professions in the area.
“Lovely for you to join me today, Dostoevsky,” the clink of your teacup very well matched your outfit. Seemed as if you were the stylish type.
Not that he minded. In fact, he very much appreciated you being the second most beautifully fitted piece he's laid his eyes on since stepping foot into this kingdom.
“Not at all, my lady,” Fyodor sips his tea, the plaid smile resting comfortably on his face. “Hm.. If I had known how polite you'd be, I'd very much have approached you with a far pleasant attitude.” Ah. Apology accepted, Miss [Surname].
“No, no. I do not condemn you for your misuse of tone towards me. I, too, would have been irritated had I known that the artists of the kingdom I was residing in were.. erm..” How should he put it without offending your nationalism pride?
“Horrid?” You finished the word for him. “Yes, horrid,” his smile grows as a response to you. A mutual smile following the lines of your face as well. Fyodor sets his cup aside, walking over to the art set, sitting next to the beautifully lined vines.
He inspects the canvas and quality paints rowed out into columns. “Do you guys usually have sets out sitting like this?” He asks.
“Just for the occasion.”
“Ah.”
For a few more seconds, Fyodor takes his time to admire the smooth wooden palette. Its edges looked as if it fit a comfortable vice and didn't retain any splinters.
He notices your eyes on him. Indirectly, the light of the teahouse mirrors his reflection.
Turning his attention back to you, Fyodor decides to muse you on your questions. “Care to chat about your questions, my lady?”
His perception almost caught you off guard. Almost.
Coughing up the air from your throat, you sit upright to fix your posture and re-cross your legs to sit in a mannered form while Fyodor sits timely across from you.
“Well, to start off…” Pausing to take a sip of your tea for dramatic effects, Fyodor waits patiently for your first question. “Why did you accept the offer to paint my portrait when you were on absence?”
Without skipping a beat, Fyodor responds with a quick that's a bit personal.
Which led to you choking up on your strings and having him lead the conversation.
Fyodor stirs his spoon inside the teacup. The sugar cube melting away from the light waved of bitterness.
The silence that was started by him now was broken by him. “How did you arrive at the teahouse so early, before me?” A simple question, but still something nonetheless.
“I had taken the short route whilst as I had him give you the scenic view the kingdom could not offer you." A somewhat apology from you on the behalf of the people. An empathic gesture that was not needed from you.
“I see…” Fyodor let out a short witted answer. His interest in this conversation dwindled as fast as the kingdom's normal artisan.
His faded expressions sent bells to your head. The commoners bore all too familiar with you.
Trying to find another topic that'll get him to stay, Fyodor abruptly stands up from his seat and stalks over to the set.
His never ending fixation.
“Get up and sit here. Bring your chair too,” he suddenly orders you — his demeanor all too serious from who you were just talking to a second ago.
“Agh. Blasphemous,” he hears you mutter your breath, but chose not to confront you on anything as you were complying with his demands.
“Sit, sit.” He ushers you into a spot under the direct sunlight where it shines the brightest.
You cross your arms, “Don't tell me what to do in my own teahouse.”
Ignoring your words, he grabs a hold of the paint brush lying in the tray. “Chin up, head straight. Posture fixed and don't move.”
Distraught with complaints, your expression sours as you zip your lips to refrain from spouting any irrationally nonsense.
“Loosen up your face,” he says, dipping the brush into the water as he picks up a nearby pencil to measure your outline.
You huff, “Why?”
His soft smile still adorned his face, “To capture your beauty in my memory.”
Memory? Dostoevsky wants to remember your beauty forever?
While thoughts skyrocket out of your head, Fyodor takes this opportunity to start sketching your aloof expression.
The graphite from his pencil marks every curve, dent, mark, and bump of your face to a t. Every color that his brush paints over color matches you perfectly.
Even if he couldn't deny your beauty, you were still a snot nosed brat who longed for praise and compliments at the end of the day.
Still, despite your huffing and puffing — he found you the prettiest when he could stare at your relaxed face.
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hi first fyodor fluff fic🫣
taglist (comment on this post to be tagged in future works!): @luvan1 @bfdazai @asqmi @squigglewigglewoo @liviash @doonifox @ishqani @xxcandlelightxx
belongs to @rusmii 2024, don't steal >:((
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lovelybrooke · 1 year
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Alright , but the soft moments with Strawhats were actually really cute. I still read it because It really does shows Strawhats like physical touch.
But what about deep conversation? Not like in the interrogation way but a talk where they actually or kinda reveal the reason being why they treasure Y/n so much?
Like Y/n one day asked "If you don't want me to not only leave but to do anything because it might be dangerous for me - what am I good for?"
it's just my thought but I think they either will not believe that Y/n thinks that they are not worthy of being here OR they will be taken off guard that they feel this way after everything they went through with them.
But I really want to hear your own opinion on this, of course if you want to.
Have a great day as well.
Why am I here? (Yandere Strawhats x Isekai reader)
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I really like this idea, but I didn't know If you wanted an entire piece or scenarios for each character. I decided to do a whole fic, so if this isn't what you wanted, I apologize. (Also thank you so much for 300 followers).
You can't help but wonder what your purpose is most days.
The Strawhats, your friends, are very protective of you, even after months of being with them and getting used to their world. You grateful for them, but you wonder what caused their behavior.
When you first appeared in this world, they were nice. They let you say on their ship, eat their food, and even promised to take you to a nice island until you found a way back home. None of their actions were strange, especially compared to how they act now. They were pretty normal, some of them even standoffish. One day though, that all changed, and they became the people you know now.
Suddenly, Zoro went from basically ignoring your whole existence to showing off to you during training. Sanji began to make bigger and fuller meals, always insisting you eat more until you could barely even eat another bite. Usopp was making strange gadgets you could fill you time with, Chopper was worrying over your every move, Nami was spending her hard-earned money on you, and even Robin was suddenly offering to lend you some her more precious books just so you two could talk about them together.
But the strangest change of all was Luffy.
Luffy was always happy go lucky, that's just in his nature. Even before, he was nice to you. He was always quick to protect you, he asked for your opinion on things, and would goof off just to make you laugh.
When Luffy changed, he became strangely more serious. He took your safety more seriously, ordering the others to value your safety among all others. Suddenly, it's like he became your shadow, never leaving your side even for a second, and he wanted to be involved in everything you did.
With their quick shift in behavior, your goal of going home slowly and slowly faded away into nothingness.
Even though, you couldn't help but feel as though you owed them something. They helped you when most likely, no one else wouldn't. They gave you a home and kept you safe from the world around you. So of course, it's not strange to think you owe them something. Whenever you try and help though, it quickly struck down, them claiming that you've done enough already.
But what have you done? You haven't partaken in any feats of bravery, you haven't liberated countries, you haven't saved anyone. You time here amounts to nothing in comparison to them. So, what have you done?
It doesn't help that they're so restrictive on what you do, prohibiting you from living the ship unless you're with one of them. So even if you want to help them in battle, you swept away and locked safety in one of the rooms on the Going Merry before you had the chance.
Your mind was filled with these thoughts constantly. Nothing justified you being here, and as the days went on and you grew closer to the strawhats, you became a shell of yourself.
"(Y/N)? Are you okay?" You could hear someone's voice, but you couldn't tell who it was. You were zoned out, and after shaking your thoughts away, you could see you were leaning on the railing of the front deck. You slowly turned towards the voice, Sanji right next to you, lighting a cigarette right next to you. He stared down next to you, his gaze making you strangely embarrassed.
"Yeah, I guess." You answer. Sanji raises his brow, letting the cigarette dangle from his lips.
"You guess?" He questioned. You gave a small sigh, your eyes locked on the dark blue ocean so you could avoid Sanji's accusing eyes. You refused to answer, the silence awkward and thick, but you would rather deal with the uncomfortable situation than voice your concerns to him. You can smell the slight hint of ash coming from Sanji's direction, and you had to suppress a cough, looking away from him in order to keep it down. At the action, Sanji lets out a gruff, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and dangling it between his pointer and middle finger, the ashes falling into the abyss that was the ocean below him. He looks over at you, the back of your head being the only thing he sees, and he lets out small breath.
"Look, you don't have to talk to me if you don't want to." He voices calmly and you can feel his understanding gaze on you. "But it's never going to get better if you don't talk to one of us." He explains, watching as you give a curt nod and stumble away.
Sanji doesn't know how to feel. You've been acting weird for a while, something he assumed to be caused by stress due to your unfamiliar surroundings. But that didn't make sense. You've been here for a while; you should've warmed up to them by now. That's what Robin said would happen. If they played nice and didn't completely suffocate you with their need to protect you, you would be happy. So, what's happening? Sanji took a puff of his cigarette, pondering the situation intensely. Maybe you haven't been eating enough? That can be it, he and Chopper make sure you're as healthy as possible. Maybe you're lonely, they have been spending more time exploring islands lately, and maybe you feel neglected. Sanji wasn't too sure though, and as he took one final puff, he thought that he might pay a visit to his captain.
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The stars always brought you comfort, they were one of the few things that wasn't completely different from your world. You had a desire to learn all the constellations that existed in this world, even if that meant spending a little more time here.
Your feet dangled off the edge of the ship, the ocean even darker than before. When you first arrived, the ocean was the thing that scared you the most. As you spent more time in this unfamiliar land however, you began to fear people more than the environment around you, and soon the ocean became one of your closest friends.
You fit of existentialism was broken as you felt strong arms wrap around you. You knew it had to be Luffy, no one was nearly as clingy as him. You could feel him snuggle into your back, the tickling of his hairs almost getting a laugh out of you.
Quickly, Luffy detected himself from your back, sitting next to you on the railing cross legged. You could feel his eyes on you, but for a while he kept quiet as you continued to gaze at the stars.
"Why are you so up this late?" Luffy asked randomly, receiving a small shrug from you. Luffy smile morphed to a frown, pouting like a child at you answer. He rested his head on his hand, his arm propped up on his thigh. Looking at you with at you with questioning eyes, he continued. "What's up with you." His words weren't particularly harsh, but they did hurt slightly. In a second, you face went from the sky above back to the ocean below, entranced by the water once again. You didn't have a smart answer, the worlds tumbling out of you involuntarily.
"I-I don't...it's...it's nothing." You stumble, and Luffy looked unconvinced. This was one of the few times when you were actually intimidated. Your eyes dart around, trying to find the right words to say.
"Why am I here?" It was random, and the words caused Luffy's back to straighten. You continued before he could say anything. "I just mean..." You sigh, trying to ignore his eye on you. "I serve no purpose. I'm not strong, I'm not brave, I'm not fit for this world. But for some reason, I'm here, and I don't know why." If felt strangely nice to voice this to Luffy, even if it meant being embarrassed for life.
"That's not true." Luffy said after a minute.
"Huh?"
"You serve a purpose." Luffy said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, his head tilting to the side like a confused child. You furrowed your brow at him, your mouth agape.
"What do you mean?! I'm the weakest one here!" Your voice was somewhat loud, but you were consumed by pent up frustration and didn't care.
Luffy smiled at your frustration. "You make us happy." Your breath was caught in your throat, and you could feel tears in your eyes as Luffy gave you a gentle hug. You quickly reciprocated.
"That's not much though." Your voice was weak, small.
Luffy simply hugged you tighter. "You don't have to be anything more. Just you is enough." He whispered. Hot tears streamed down you face as you buried your face in Luffy's shoulder. The smile on his face never left as he comforted you.
"You make us happy, so we protect you." He explained as you began to calm down. Slowly, you moved away from Luffy, his arms still wrapped around you and his smile still covering his face.
"We don't expect anything else from you other than, well, you." He giggled at his own words. "It doesn't matter if you aren't strong or brave. What matters is that you're our friend. What matters is that you're happy. What matters is that you're here, with us." He said, getting a small smile at you. Slowly, you went back to looking at the stars, you head resting on Luffy's shoulder as you began to drift off to sleep.
Luffy knew for a while why you were acting weird, but he wanted you to come to him. He wanted you to be open with him. He wanted you to trust him.
If you asked Luffy why he, why any of them, valued you so much, they would respond with simply "They're my friend." That was obvious to anyone. But the harsh looks at passerby's, the threats to people who simply talked to you, that couldn't be explained away as friendly behavior. What it was deep down, was possessiveness. Pirates are possessive by nature, and what they value most in the world, is their treasure.
Luffy looked down at you once more, you soft snores filling the air around you two. He let out a peaceful sigh, feeling calm at your restful state. Luffy knew for a while that you were his treasure and like a good captain, he would do whatever he could to protect you.
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A/n: Please like and reblog if you enjoy.
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