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hairstevington · 8 months

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songs that voices never share (2)

Deaf!Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Summary: Steve receives a letter from El and goes on a quest to fulfill her wishes. Along the way, he runs into Nancy as well as the intriguing metalhead that Steve can't stop thinking about, for better or for worse. (part 1 found here)

Warnings: Lots of angst, good babysitter Steve Harrington, use of ASL, appearances from a bunch of the kids, Steve and El are penpals and it's very cute

Word count: 3.6K

A/N: I am going to move this story over exclusively on Ao3, so please follow along there if you're interested!

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Chapter 2 - I'm getting further away

Steve wanted to go directly to Robin’s after dropping the boys off at home, but he forced himself to wait until they worked together the next day. It was after dark, and Mrs. Buckley wasn’t the biggest fan of teenage boys showing up at the house unannounced and distracting her daughter from studying.

Pssh. As if Robin didn’t distract herself most of the time.

Steve had pulled his typical Harrington move a few times and snuck up to her window, which Mrs. Buckley didn’t love, but she accepted, as long as he didn’t step on any of the flowers in the garden when he did so - he learned that lesson the hard way. Anyway, Robin’s mom tolerated Steve’s excessive presence in Robin’s life because she was happy that Robin had a “handsome boyfriend.” While Steve was a year older and not in college, he still had a decent reputation in the town (somehow), and Mrs. Buckley approved of him, more or less.

He would have called her, but his hearing over the phone was hit or miss, and besides - he wanted to see her face when she found out.

So, Steve went home. He went up to his bedroom (which Robin often called the torture chamber due to how poorly it was decorated and also the general vibes of Steve’s house being off), and he thought about Eddie.

Seriously. Eddie. Steve Harrington was lying in his bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about Eddie Munson. A total freak. The bane of Steve’s existence due to the fact that Eddie was actively replacing Steve in Dustin’s life. That Eddie. And all because of Tommy and Jonathan and Billy and the Russians all treating Steve like a punching bag until he started losing his hearing, and now that guy, Eddie Munson, was one of the only people Steve would be able to communicate with.

Okay. So apparently Steve had gone from being excited to being angry about it. Funny how that works. At least Steve understood anger better than he understood…whatever the hell he’d been feeling before.

Eddie seemed to be, like, fluent. Steve wasn’t. He’d been practicing pretty much nonstop for three months, but that didn’t mean much. He could carry a conversation as long as people talked about very specific topics. And even then, Steve wasn’t sure he was signing half the words correctly. Books about ASL were great but not exactly the best way to learn a 3-D, visual language.

The impending migraine he’d felt approaching over the course of the day was getting worse. It was probably going to rain tomorrow or something. That was a thing, right? Feeling achy and sore before a storm hits? Or was that only an excuse for when his mom didn’t want to do chores? He could have looked it up at any point, but he didn’t feel like it. Robin or Dustin would probably already know the answer, anyway. Who knows? Maybe Eddie would, too.

Ugh. Steve was sick and tired of feeling like the stupidest person in his life.

The next day, Steve woke up and noticed an envelope had been slipped under his door. He rolled his eyes, consistently amazed at how his parents avoided trying to talk to their own son. Whatever. He walked over to grab the letter and noticed it was from El.

It was kind of exciting, receiving a letter like that. The last time he’d gotten letters in the mail, they were rejections from colleges, so this was a lot more fun, even though he barely knew the girl. He opened the envelope and read it.

Dear Steve,

I do not know you very good well, but I want to practise writing. Will is helping me with grammer and spelling because I am not good at it. I am working on it and I think I will be good at writing soon.

School is okay. It is nice to have friends, but the homework is hard. Joyce and Jonathan do not help me much. There is a woman at school who helps me. She is nice but she smells bad. Will told me it is something called perfume. I asked Joyce and she told me women wear perfume for dates. Why is Mrs. Vickers wearing it at school? Will says she likes Mr. Samson and that is why. But then I asked her and she said no and that he is married.

I wrote Mike and Max letters too and they probably will get them at the same time you do. If you see them, can you make sure they have them?

I hope you are good. How are your ears?

~ El Jane

PS: My name is Jane. Please call me that.

Steve smiled. There was something so endearing about it. El - er, Jane - was just a girl, and yet she’d saved a lot of people’s lives a bunch of times. She’d saved Steve’s life at that mall - that is, unless he dreamt that. It was right after he’d puked his guts from the truth serum shit so his memory was a bit faded. But he was pretty sure El threw a car across the room and then Jonathan sliced her leg open to get some wiggly thing out of her.

Jesus. That whole night was fucking wild. Why did nobody ever talk about it?

Anyway, it was Saturday, and the boys (Dustin, Lucas, and Mike) were hanging out in Nancy’s basement to do god knows what. Probably something nerdy. Although, Steve didn’t mind the nerdy shit as much now that he was friends with Dustin and Robin. Since Jane specifically asked Steve to check if Mike got his letter, and it’s not like Steve had anything else to do, he got in his car and headed to the Wheeler’s.

It struck him as he approached the driveway that Nancy could very well be in her own house on a Saturday afternoon, so he might see her.

Idiot.

Well, he couldn’t leave now, because Nancy’s Dad was totally paranoid and probably would have called the cops about a mysterious car pulling up and then driving away. Unless he was asleep on the couch or something, which he did pretty often. It was 50/50 with Ted Wheeler. Eh, more like 75/25.

Being at Nancy’s house was weird. He didn’t go there very often other than the occasional drop-off after Hellfire. He and Nancy were fine, in the technical sense, but still. She broke his heart and left him for Jonathan. They were exes.

Of course, she was the one who opened the door.

“Oh!” she said once she saw him. “Um, Steve! Hi! What are you doing here?”

Fair question.

“I’m looking for your brother.” Steve nonchalantly signed YOUR BROTHER as he spoke without even thinking about it. Nancy looked at his hands and pressed her lips into a thin line. She’d been acting extra weird around him ever since he’d told her about the hearing thing. She didn’t learn any ASL, she just stopped talking to him - which was fine, because it’s not like they had much to talk about unless the world was ending or something.

Which meant they probably still had at least a few months of silence between them before they were due for another apocalypse.

“I think so,” Nancy replied, looking behind her. “One second.”

Nancy walked ten feet closer to the basement door and yelled for Mike, who tumbled up the stairs and ran to the door so fast Steve wondered if Mike had considered joining the track team. Steve already supported Lucas joining the basketball team, and even helped him out before tryouts. Lucas didn’t need much training, though. He was a natural at basketball.

Mike was huffing and puffing when he noticed it was Steve asking for him, and then his face fell.

“DUSTIN!!!” Mike yelled behind him. “YOUR STEVE IS HERE!” Steve rolled his eyes. One good thing about talking to Mike was that he frequently yelled, which translated to a more normal volume for those who’d had ruptured eardrums.

“I’m not here for Henderson,” Steve clarified. “I’m here because your girlfriend wants to know if you got your letter.”

“You - what?!” Mike exclaimed. “How did you know that - since when do you talk to El?”

The other good thing about talking to Mike was that he was relatively good at enunciating. This was especially helpful considering Mike signed BITCH instead of TALK. But hey, at least the kid was trying.

“Her name’s Jane, now, dude,” Steve corrected him. “And uhh - I dunno. She wrote me a letter too.”

Mike clearly did not like any of this. He crossed his arms and scoffed so dramatically Steve had to hold himself back from laughing.

“MOM!” Mike yelled. “DID I GET A LETTER?” There must have been a response in the background, because Mike looked like he heard one. He turned back to Steve and nodded. “Yup got it.”

“Great,” Steve replied. Unfortunately, only half his job was done. “Did Max get hers?” Mike shrugged.

“I don’t know,” he answered. Steve sighed.

“Okay,” he said. “Do you know where she lives?” Mike responded, but Steve couldn’t for the life of him figure out what he said. It looked like - “Frosties?” Mike shook his head and said it again.

“Forest Hills,” he clarified. Steve furrowed his eyebrows.

“The trailer park?” he asked. Mike nodded. “Oh. Okay. Thanks.”

Steve always had a headache after talking to people, because he had to concentrate super hard to get what they were saying. It was getting old. He turned to go back to his car, but was stopped when Mike grabbed him by the wrist. Steve spun around and tried not to laugh at how hard Mike attempted to look menacing.

“Don’t hurt her, understand?” Mike demanded. At least he had one sign down - UNDERSTAND. Steve nodded, regretting that he taught Mike anything.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Steve responded. Jane could still kick his ass probably, even without her powers.

He left for Forest Hills after that, feeling somewhat sad for Max. He hadn’t really talked to her much, so he didn’t fully know her deal, but he knew she grew up with a psycho brother and was angsty enough to take down said brother. Steve was knocked out cold for it, but Dustin had told him her attack involved using Steve’s nail bat to threaten Billy’s junk.

Needless to say, Steve was kind of terrified of Max.

All that said, Forest Hills was known for being - uhh - not the best place to live. It was relatively close to Steve’s house, and his dad warned him all the time growing up not to go there. He told him it was filled with the worst kind of people.

Then Steve grew up, and he realized his dad was among the worst kind of people, not the folks at the trailer park.

It was just sad there. Even though people lived in the trailers, something about it felt empty at all times. Hollow. Miserable.

Steve realized he hadn’t asked which trailer belonged to Max’s family (idiot), but thankfully she was outside feeding the dog when his car pulled into Forest Hills.

She didn’t seem at all surprised by his arrival, or maybe she just didn’t care. It was probably the second one.

“What are you doing here?” she asked after Steve got out of the car. She looked around her, and Steve could have sworn she saw a crack in her tough exterior. He wondered how many people knew this was where she lived now.

The sky was cloudy. It would probably rain any minute. Steve’s head was pounding.

It was at that moment Steve realized how ridiculous this whole mission had been. This girl who he interacted with like three times in his life wrote him a letter and asked him to check in on two other kids, both who Steve also didn’t have much of a relationship with, and he just…did it? Because he had literally nothing better to do on a Saturday?

Oof. He had no idea when he got so pathetic.

“Steve?” Max called. Steve was too lost in thought to even respond, but within moments she was standing a foot in front of him. Despite being a lot shorter than he was, she still seemed tall. She signed, WHAT’S UP? He took a deep breath.

“God, this is -” he said. “This is so stupid. Did you get El’s letter? I mean - uh - Jane’s letter?”

Max’s gaze softened.

“Is she okay?” she asked, slight fear in her expression. Steve nodded.

“Yeah,” he answered. “She just uh - she sent me one, too. Asked me to check that you and Mike got yours.”

At the mention of Mike, Max rolled her eyes. At least she and Steve had that reaction in common. She walked to the mailbox, opened it, and shuffled through the (many) envelopes inside.

“Jesus,” Steve exclaimed. “Someone’s popular.” Max didn’t react.

“I always forget to check,” she said casually in response. Steve wondered why she would be the one who had to check the mail, but didn’t press it. Max took one of the envelopes and held it in the air. “Here. Got it,” she said.

Max was acting differently. She was never the most bubbly person, but she seemed even more tense than usual.

“You okay?” Steve asked, signing OK. Max nodded and signed FINE. As much as Steve knew she was definitely for sure lying (seriously, Steve was the King of pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t, he saw right through this shit), he also knew he wasn’t great at the whole emotions thing.

“Be nice to El or I’ll kill you,” Max threatened. Steve shook his head.

“Why is everyone saying that shit?” he complained. “Seriously, I just -”

Suddenly, there was a sound that Steve assumed was thunder. Max’s eyes focused on something in the distance behind Steve, then pointed at her ear and nodded towards the noise. When Steve turned around, he saw Eddie attempting to put a garbage bag in the metal dumpster and failing miserably.

He turned back to Max, who looked at him expectantly.

“What?” Steve asked. She looked back at Eddie, then to Steve again. “You’re the one who lives here, you help him.” Max’s face crumpled with judgment.

“I’m a child,” she explained, as if helping Eddie with his task was a preposterous thing for her to do. Steve rolled his eyes and turned back to the dumpster, which was now closed. Eddie was wiping his hands on his pants, triumphant. Then, he locked eyes with Steve.

Shit.

Usually, Steve could pretend he wasn’t able to hear someone if they were far away, and then he didn’t look like a dick when he didn’t talk to them. Unfortunately, Steve couldn’t use that excuse with Eddie.

HERE WHY? Eddie signed from across the park.

Steve wasn’t sure why he was so nervous all of a sudden. It sucked that every single time he ran into Eddie, he forgot all ASL he’d practiced and instead just looked like a total fool. Steve pressed his lips together and gestured to Max beside him. Eddie raised an eyebrow.

Steve looked at Max panicked, and she looked back at him.

“He knows ASL?” she asked, impressed. Steve nodded. “How?”

“Uhhh, his mom is deaf,” Steve explained. “Was deaf. She’s dead now.” Steve knew like three things about Eddie, and those were two of the things. Of course, those facts sounded incredibly tactless when repeated without context.

“Steve, what the hell?” Max replied. “You’re being weird.”

“I know,” Steve replied in a hushed voice. He went to go back to his car, then noticed that Eddie was walking right toward them. Steve’s eyes widened.

Okay, here goes nothing.

“This guy bothering you, Red?” Eddie asked. He was using a sign Steve didn’t recognize, but he assumed it meant BOTHER. Steve crossed his hands in a similar way at his waist, as if doing it would sear the sign into his brain.

“No,” Max said. “He’s fine.” She signed FINE once again. She was really getting her mileage with that one.

Steve signed a question that was meant to ask if Eddie and Max had met already. Thank God he was actually able to express a coherent thought. He was pretty sure it was grammatically correct, too!

MEET, Eddie signed back. Steve cocked his head, so Eddie continued. “You signed DATE,” he explained. He closed his fists more and then repeated the motion. “This is how you sign MEET.”

Okay, so Steve officially had to disappear forever.

THANK YOU, he signed instead, resisting the urge to hop in the car. TWO-OF-YOU MEET HOW? This time, Eddie nodded in approval at Steve’s signing, which felt good. He was still humiliated, but at least he’d slightly redeemed himself.

Eddie signed a whole bunch of words Steve couldn’t really follow, but thankfully Eddie spoke anyway.

“We’re neighbors,” he explained. “Also, her boyfriend is in my club.” Eddie was signing while he was speaking like it was nothing. Steve watched in awe.

“Okay,” Max interrupted, unamused. “I’m gonna go inside before it starts pouring, but it was nice to talk to you both, I guess.”

With that, she was gone. That left Steve and Eddie alone. It was times like these when he really wished he could telepathically summon Robin.

“So,” Eddie said. Then, he signed something else Steve couldn’t understand. YOU, something, then ME?

The missing word was extremely important. Thankfully, Eddie seemed to recognize that Steve didn’t understand. Eddie fingerspelled, S-T-A-L-K, then signed STALK again.

YOU STALK ME?

Once Eddie’s initial question clicked, Steve shook his head aggressively.

“No, no,” he insisted. “I came here for Max, because her and I have a bunch of friends in common, and -”

“Steve,” Eddie said, cutting him off. JOKING.

Steve exhaled in relief. “Oh. Right,” he said. From then on, Eddie spoke as he signed.

“How long have you been signing?” he asked.

“Three months,” Steve answered. “Started losing my hearing in July.”

“Shit,” Eddie replied. “So it’s very new.” Steve nodded, noticing that instead of signing VERY NEW, Eddie signed NEW with a more dramatic motion and expression. Interesting.

“Yeah.”

Eddie looked up at the sky, which had gotten a lot darker over the last few minutes.

“Well,” he said. “We should take refuge before the storm hits. But for the record, you’re pretty good at ASL considering it’s only been three months.”

Steve smiled. REALLY?

Eddie nodded. REALLY.

Steve didn’t think Eddie had any idea how much this brief conversation impacted him. Eddie just walked away after that to go inside, but Steve lingered outside the car for a few extra moments.

Then he realized how fucking weird he looked and drove home as fast as he safely could.

Steve had a few hours before work, which was good because his headache was still going strong. He figured he’d pop a Tylenol and take a nap or something.

When he got back to his room, he saw his letter on the desk and decided he’d write back before he slept.

Dear Jane,

Hi! I honestly didn’t expect you to actually write me. That’s pretty cool. I double checked for you and Max and Mike got their letters. And then they both gave me the shovel talk - wait, do you know what a shovel talk is? They basically told me that if you and I are gonna be penpals, I have to be nice to you. That’s kinda bullshit, right? I’m, like, really nice, now. Except to Dustin, but only when he deserves it.

That was a joke. I’m joking.

Steve crumpled up the paper and threw it across the room. What was he thinking, going on about shovel talks and how he sometimes bullies a literal child?

He took a deep breath and tried again.

Hey,

I’m really glad you wrote to me. Things have been kinda hard, honestly. My ears are the same. Actually, they’ve gotten worse. Today they’re hurting me a lot. I’m starting to think I’m gonna go completely deaf and I don’t really know how I feel about it. I just feel like a total dumbass all the time.

Jesus Christ, was he seriously trauma dumping on a girl who’s formative experiences included being imprisoned and experimented on in a lab??? And now, she had even more shit to conquer. She didn’t need to hear about his problems.

He thought about giving up, but decided to try one more time.

Jane -

It’s nice to hear from you. I always had a hard time in school, too. Nancy used to help me out with my papers because I’m a shit writer. So this is good practice for both of us 🙂

I just found out this guy named Eddie also knows sign language, so I want to try to get to know him better. He’s in Hellfire club with Dustin, Mike, and Lucas, so I’ll see him sometimes probably. It makes me feel less alone, I guess. I’ve been feeling alone a lot these days. Maybe that’s not a manly thing to say or whatever, but I’ve given up on trying to be cool. Cool is overrated, it’s lame-time for Steve.

Shit. Robin told me to stop talking in third person like that. She’d probably be fine with it this time though since I was calling myself lame while doing it.

Max and Mike both have their letters, so all is good on that end. All your friends here are doing well. I’ll keep an eye on them for you if you promise to look out for Will. Okay?

Until next time,

Steve

PS: Mrs. Vickers is totally trying to get with Mr. Samson. Keep me updated with this because now I’m invested.

Well. That was as good as it was gonna get. He sealed the envelope and climbed into bed.

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#eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #writing #steddie fic #songs that voices never share #deaf steve harrington #eddie munson x steve harrington #stranger things fanfic

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kozykricket · 2 years

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Minecraft Thoughtdump: The Paint and The Canvas

This is a fairly unstructured ramble about my opinions on minecraft world generation.

So, off the bat... 1.18 was possibly the best minecraft update ever. while for a lot of people it may have been saddening to see C&C split into two, it was for sure for the better. A lesson of over-scoping was learned, and yet the update still reached its potential fully! Its insanely impressive how much 1.18 did. I remember being there during the experimental snapshots, with henrik (who has now left the team to pursue more) leading them, he was asking for feedback everywhere! I remember seeing a discord conversation someone had about the distribution of dripstone in the cave biomes Overall, it was a fantastic update. It truly shows the iteration and feedback process at its finest. How glad I am for 1.18... But to recap what 1.18 did for the sake of this post - one of the most notable things is that... we don't have "hills" biomes anymore. we just have... hilly terrain! heightmap and biomes are separated now, with them somewhat having influence on eachother but overall being completely separate things. This makes for a lot more variety in terrain shape! Its especially noticeable in single biome worlds, just how varied the terrain can be in a single biome.

However, I do think this is merely the beginning of a minecraft 2 of sorts. I think its fair to look at the heightmap and placement of biomes as the "canvas" that is painted upon, and the actual biomes themselves and features, from the grass to the trees, to the rocks and the flowers... as if those are all the "paint" Do you get what I'm gettin at? I think now that worldgen was torn out and redone entirely, we have an amazing canvas to work with. Truly, so many things can be put on top of it

But alas, the paint is still not quite up to date. Its like if you replaced a wall in a house that was crumbling down and pretty weak with a fantastic new wall, but kept the same faded paint color on it... Still works as a wall! its just... wouldn't it be nicer if the paint was also redone? That's what I think minecraft needs. I think oak forests in particular are an example of this - they're still the same trees as they were in alpha. I think the general shape is too iconic to change, but more height variety would at least be nice! More boulders, ferns, ponds!

Here's where my biggest idea comes into play, though. You know how they got rid of hill biomes because they were made redundant with Fancy Heightmap Technology? Well what if... we made biomes like old growth birch forests and sparse jungles redundant? What if... tree density and height was based on random noise? Imagine... every forest you find has a different variation of height, of density... some forests you find are towering and dense as heck, but some are fairly sparsely placed. Some, a nice inbetween... It would make multiple instances of the same biome far more unique to come across. Apply it to tall grass and flowers too, and you truly have an insane amount of variation The cherry on top would be for forest clearings to occasionally generate, with boulders or ponds, or big stumps in them... Also, fallen / hollow logs thanks Of course, this is all way easier said than done, and its clear mojang has different priorities currently, and... well yeah, its a lot more complicated. Worldgen is hard to make, and its even harder to make everyone happy. They don't want to break old worlds, they dont want to break expectations, they want to deliver quality...

Mojang are not the bad guys, despite so many people thinking that. Minecraft ideas academy on youtube has some good videos on the subject.

Anyways, i think we are merely in the beginning of the new age of minecraft worldgen. I don't think 1.20 will be quite it (I think 1.20 is a FANTASTIC future for minecraft though still thats my next post. and then a post about structures)

If we think of the world as a canvas... and the trees, grass, flowers... all of that as the paint? Well, I see a bright future for Minecraft

#minecraft ideas #minecraft #thought dump #mineblr #1.20 hype #but for different reasons

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briasfreespace · 5 months

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Fulfillment Friday: NEW YOU???

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹Fulfillment Friday🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

This week we're tapping into our fairytale selves. Are you everything you want to be, or are other's perception of you shrouding your true self.

Dance of Many Hands -Kudzanai-Violet Hwami

I've been laser-focused on the whole "new year, new me" energy. I am reconsidering my health trajectory and am attempting to take the greatest care of myself, I can. I made balance where I could find it and am accepting where I couldn't. This life is a journey full of random quests and inquiries that are meant to bring us to our highest good. I find that at this point on my journey, I am slaying another dragon and fighting off spells. Our stories feel like never-ending cycles of trauma and rebirth. There isn't really a such thing as an ending, because in every new cycle, we live for a beginning. I am still looking for my way home to myself as I am adjusting to adult life. Needless to say, I am overwhelmed.

When were in search of this new beginning it is on us to find the X that marks the spot. It is on us to balance out our woes from our wins. To grow from the lessons that upend and spin us every which way and gather ourselves. I am finding that I know exactly what I am wanting in this life, but I've realized I have no idea how I am going to get there and who I need to be to have it. So that left me wondering, am I my fairy tale self. Not like this perfect version of me and not even the every day me. Are my standards for myself standardized or our they my own?

My fairy tale self takes great care of her health, great care of relationships and is consistent in her efforts for greatness. That is a bit overwhelming isn't it. Always searching for perfection instead of focusing on everything I already am. I know I am not perfect but I do know my goals are worth it. I recently have had a lot of people say that I am asking to much of the world. That I don't deserve what I desire and you know what, maybe they're right. I have no idea what God has in store for me, but I do know the desires of my heart and that is where the truth lies.

When we read fairy tales often times they are stories that call upon us to grow and examine our empathy. To some, the premise for our greatest traditional fables is complete insanity. Yet, this is how human will works. When we want something, we will go through the darkest places and fight the biggest monsters just to have what we desire. Often times you let go of pride, stand ten toes on your standards and prepare for what comes. As I go through life I have learned every great fairytale has all the same tropes and caricatures.

The protagonist: You are the protagonist in your story. You can either be Tony Soprano or Tiana from Princess in the Frog. Either way you go about it, your desires lead your story, good or bad. You also have to remember, whoever tells your story is who decides if you are the villain or not. Think about the film Maleficent, so many women and girls know what it is like for someone you once loved to corrupt an integral piece of who you are. In Sleeping Beauty, we don't get this perspective of a violent king who sets the whole story off. Along with that, we don't always acknowledge the people in their circles and our own who will add to the narrative to further convict you. This is a reminder to stand tall because one day your story will replace theirs. We have to constantly remind ourselves we are the drivers of our story but also the only ones who can tell our true story. It is up to us to decide if we are willing to be misrepresented or go the distance and use our voices. I am using my voice!!!

The savior: I have learned in life that the savior is just anyone who loves you and wants the best for you. In my life, it is often people I would least expect to go out of their way to help me that do. I am a very sensitive person and I always felt I was all alone on my journey. As I am getting older I see all the people who had these grand impacts on me that I could only truly feel with age. it can be difficult trekking through life and making your own way. Sometimes that stranger on the street becomes a friend. I would like to PREFACE, they are only a savior if they do it out of the kindness of their own heart. You don't owe a savior anything, that is not the good guy.

A team: Now, I have made poor decisions in rounding up my team. I have people that I am still rocking with who have helped me on my journey and there are those who I am still healing from. I do not think I can share much about that. I do know that when people are on your team, people are on your side, your success, happiness, shortcomings, and burdens are things they share with you. Your pain and their pain are interlinked. Your joy and their joy are interlinked. That friend who only reaches out when things are going wrong for them is not on your side, they are a client and you are not getting paid. Another big indicator of someone being on your team is when they are honest with you for your sake, not theirs. I recently had a friend who threw me a reality check, and it was a necessary one. She asked me to think before I went and Thank God I did. I've had one friend see me struggle through and not be able to process what happened to me and basically told me I needed to carry along. I, at first thought she meant well, but I understand now, she was tired of me being sad. When you can't accept your friends for where they're at, maybe you should just stay at home.

A purpose or will: This is the most important of all 4 of the fairy tale tropes. We have to know what we want to get, so we know where we want to go. This means we will have to end up in places that aren't so great for us. This means we have to wander the forest like Hansel and Gretel and come upon a witch's candy cabin. You can't beat yourself up for not knowing better but when you do make the necessary moves to never end up in that side of the forest again. Your journey might be one of finding strength, we can tough it out like Mulan or become the villain like Ursula. Life doesn't always go the way we want it to, but we have to have faith were on the right path. It is so easy to lose our way and take shortcuts, hurt others, or become bitter, I know I have. We have to trust in universal truths that the good guy always wins in the end. Do you know why, because they learned who they are as the protagonist, found people like them, and got help along the way? So, no matter where we've been and no matter where we're going we know the pain won't last long. And we will know love and have a story to tell.

That's all today folks! One last question, what do you have to change to be your fairytale self?

#bthevirgo #blogger #20 something #writers on tumblr #black women writers #fairycore #Kudzanai-Violet Hwami #black artist #venus

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ameyeong · 7 months

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Week 11: Analyse Creative Practice

Today we did a class manifesto! On CTS B.

Our group wrote our manifesto based on the general nature of the class and some values and quotes that we have learnt and carried with us. We wanted the presentation to be funny and memorable to our learning experience, so we added some unserious manifestos inside as well. Some of the manifestos even relate to how we should structure our reflection writing.

My personal manifesto would be “Learn, until I die.” Back In SOTA, I had a similar class to this one also called “Crtical Thinking Skills” that replaced normal English lessons. However, it covered social and some political issues. At first, I thought that overcoming and achieving high grades from CTS would be easy, as I had previous experience in critical thinking classes. But I discovered that I was very wrong.

The class materials and learning outcomes were easy to approach and understand, but I did not in fact, knew how to write my reflections. The biggest difference? Relating all of this to my creative / design practice. I am not the person to think that deeply about art and design, in fact, I think most modern art and design isn’t that deep. Of course, I have inspiration, values and meaningful ideas that help me shape and create my design, but it was not to a point as to how CTS provokes my thinking; making me learn beyond textbooks and classroom designs, by understanding myself, others, and exploring social, cultural and art and design contexts.

Therefore, I realised that there is always something new, something to add, something to learn. Which is why that is my personal manifesto.

Honestly, I could change my group’s entire manifesto. However, I will not change a thing. Looking back at our group discussion, I realised that every point that every person contributed was something that they have learned in this class. It is the more valuable and memorable takeaway to them for a reason (except for the unserious ones). Reflecting on how they are as a person and linking that to their design interests and hobbies, I had an epiphany; what they valued reflects what they were interested in. For example, Kyona wanted to be more confident in presenting, and she loves being behind a camera, but not having pictures of her face taken. Keafe wanted to embrace uncertainty, and that is reflected in how his works are always experimenting using different mediums and methods.

For me, CTS played a crucial role in my creative process of my design practice. I don’t typically reflect on my design, nor do I like to experiment. When I get an idea, I just do it. BAM BAM BAM.

CTS helped me broaden my horizon, looking at 6 sides of a cube instead of 4. It made me more self aware, more observant, and detail oriented. When I go about my life now, I make it a habit to turn what I observe into a part of my creative process in design. This helped me develop my work in studio and images and materiality classes.

Word count: 494

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eazy-group · 8 months

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Alessandra lost 31 pounds

New Post has been published on https://eazydiet.net/alessandra-lost-31-pounds/

Alessandra lost 31 pounds

Transformation of the Day: Alessandra lost 31 pounds. Earlier this year, a routine physical revealed that she had pre-diabetes and high cholesterol. With her 3-year-old twins in mind, she decided it was time to make some serious lifestyle changes, like working with a dietitian.

Social Media: Instagram: @alecat86

What was your motivation? What inspired you to keep going, even when you wanted to give up? My motivation was after I went in March 2023 to get my yearly physical and my Doctor, and I realized I was heavier than I’d ever been. My blood work came back showing high cholesterol issues as well as pre-diabetes. I knew then I had to make some serious changes.

I wanted to ensure I was whole and healthy for my 3-year-old twins. He referred me to a dietician, and it took two months to get an appointment. I saw the Dietician on May 2, 2023, and we had a detailed appointment discussion regarding lifestyle changes.

How did you change your eating habits? The very first thing I did was download MyFitnessPal and start to track my calories. I like it because it holds me accountable for what I am eating. I stopped eating sugar and fast food. I make sure I eat 1,200 calories per day. Sometimes, I eat a bit more if I work out.

I played around with various protein drinks until I found 1 I liked. Now, I drink 1 per day as a meal replacement. I drink about 96 ounces of water a day. The biggest thing is just making sure I stay within my allotted calories per day.

What is your workout routine? I purchased a walking pad from Amazon for my office and home. I used to only get about 3,000 steps a day. I only sit down once I hit at least 10,000 steps per day. I usually do about 1,200 steps per day.

I plan to start strength training this week.

How often did you work out? I walk on my walking pad about six days per week. I enjoy it and feel better when I do.

What was your starting weight? What is your current weight? My starting weight was 198 pounds.

My current weight is 167 pounds.

My goal weight is 160 pounds.

What is your height? I am 5’2″.

When did you start your journey? How long did your transformation take? My journey started on May 2, 2023. It has been about five months so far.

Is weight loss surgery part of your journey? I had no weight loss surgery.

What is the biggest lesson you’ve learned so far? The biggest lesson I’ve learned is to actually pay attention to what I am eating. There are so many things that I did not realize carried so many calories and sugar.

I learned to educate myself on what I put in my body more. I have also learned to meal prep and take the time to make my own food at home.

I have learned to move, move, move! To make myself more active, even when (or especially when) I don’t want to.

What advice do you have for women who want to lose weight? My advice is to literally just start! Don’t wait until the first of the month, and don’t wait until next week. Start today! Start walking, start educating yourself on what exactly you’re eating and if it is best for your health.

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vampireic · 8 months

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sometimes i feel like i’m the worst partner alive ever to my boyfriend and then i remember. the shit he has done to me before. and i’m slightly less insane. is that toxic? am i toxic? i don’t want to be but sometimes i make mistakes and i am. i’m trying to be better i think. i really want to be the best i can for him. i think this is a learning experience lesson moment for me. i would never vent about him to his new friends. my friends are also his friends but he doesn’t talk to them as much as i do or even at all. they watched him hurt me. they were there when he would hurt my feelings they were the people who saw it and held me when something he said made me cry. i vent to them because they were there. they already know about what happened. and maybe i’d like to have friends that are just MY friends for once. HE DOESNT EVEN LIKE MOST OF THEM.

our “group” is kind of….. trauma bonded i guess? i think that’s the right use of that term. some of us were victims and some of us were abusers this time last year. my boyfriend was both. a victim of his then girlfriend and an abuser of most of the group. he would constantly tell us how much he didn’t care about any of us. how he wasn’t capable of caring or being kind. he didn’t care if we died tomorrow. he didn’t care to comfort anyone. except that was the biggest lie ever imaginable. because there he was in my dms. every night. telling me how much he loved me how much i meant to him how he wants to hear how i’m doing and he wants me to be okay and he’ll always be here if i need him. it was so psychologically taxing to hear him berate the group while i was there and then have him contradict himself when it was just us. i was apart of the “group” was i not? what was the difference? why was i the outlier? why couldn’t he just keep quiet? his girlfriend hated my guts because i was nice to him. and he cares about me more than anyone. they (gf) were kind to my face and talked shit about me to him. did he ever protest? did he ever tell them to stop? did he just let them say shit about me?

i’m almost a year clean. i relapsed just before halloween last year. i was almost a year clean then, too. that’s really when everything went downhill. i think that’s why i’m starting to hurt again. my wounds are opening. i don’t want to hate him. i love him. i love him. i want to love him. i want to be kind and peaceful i want to love him. i’m so scared. halloween was horrible. my friend had a panic attack trying to park his car in my driveway before we even did anything. we went trick or treating. my dad called. my bf and his then gf got the idea that i needed to be home, i didn’t. they left the rest of us behind. i yelled. this was supposed to be my replacement birthday (my parents got covid on my actual birthday). they had the audacity to be mad at me for yelling. my other friends were struggling. why did we need to leave? why did they walk so fast? his gf was jealous. i don’t even know why. i barely talked to him all night. i wasn’t even in a sexy costume. i was in a onesie with a full mask on (sam trick r treat). i just wanted to trick or treat with friends for once. i just wanted to be a kid for one night.

then came november. i was given half assed apologies from his gf. they blamed him the whole time. my bf thought i hated him. he almost cried when he apologized to me. his birthday was soon. i had bought him a gift in advance. i wasn’t sure if it would get here on time (or at all). i would give anything in this world to watch him open it again. it was perfect, that’s what he said. he was giddy like a kid. it was the first time i had seen him genuinely excited about something in a very long time. he was shaking. forgive me for bragging about how good of a gift it was, it just helps to show how enraged his gf was to watch him open it. they got him a goose plushie and a bunch of flavored condoms that were free from the musical they were in. those were the only things i remember in the bag, maybe there was more i couldn’t see. i didn’t bring a bag. i don’t remember what order the gifts were in. i hope i didn’t insist on being last. i don’t remember. i actually believe i was first. he’s told me many times since then my gift is the best he’s ever gotten. his gf did not appreciate that. their fights would get worse and worse and he would become more and more self destructive.

december brought me clarity. i focused on the friends who actually liked me. we would talk a lot. i planned another thing, for christmas. i wouldn’t hear much from him this month. until a week or two before our plans, they separated. they both still went. unbeknownst to our group (not really, they didn’t try to hide it) they were still talking to each other and had gotten back together for a little. they were separated that day though. i refused to let him carry a box for them. i carried it instead. i told them not to make the same mistake twice. they listened. i wouldn’t speak to them the same way again. i wouldn’t really speak to them ever again.

this person came into my friend group’s lives, and near enough ruined our relationships with each other. were they that strong if they were fundamentally changed by just one person? i would like to think so, as we’re still speaking to each other.

idk. i think i feel better, at least a little bit.

there’s about a month and some change between my bf and his ex splitting up and me and him dating. does that make me a horrible person?

i was trying to figure out what romantic love even felt like for their whole relationship. many people confused us for dating when we weren’t. it was so natural to do things like lay all over each other and cry into him and hold him and play with his hair. we went everywhere together. we clicked so well. this is going to sound horribly obvious but we even held hands from highschool through college (not while him and his ex were dating). it wasn’t all the time, just crossing the street or if he thought he lost me. i was truly doing mental gymnastics.

i needed someone who was just my friend. i needed him to stay just my friend. i couldn’t take another close friend to dating situation, i was hurting from one already. i wasn’t ready to commit to anyone like that.

his ex called me the girl(misgendered me, rude) he told them not to worry about. which is a lie. i was the one who told them not to worry. i don’t see him like that, i said. i didn’t, it’s true. it’s not true anymore. i distanced myself to make them happy. it wasn’t enough. i needed to disappear from his life completely for them to be happy. i tried. we were both miserable. i feel like the bad guy. i’m not the one who would hit him and scream at him because he had friends who were kind to him. sorry i guess.

i think i dwell on them a lot because if i had just realized my feelings sooner, we might still be friends. if i had kissed him first, if i had told them i had feelings for him, if, if, if, if.

but that’s not how it happened.

i miss having someone who understands my queer struggles. someone who gets being nonbinary. gender dysphoria. everything. my friends now are supportive but they won’t ever get it.

i feel better. i feel, lighter.

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asoulofatlantis · 8 months

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For some reason I kinda, sorta somehow am looking forward to watching Elaine die XD I mean, she isn't really dead, so I really don't have to feel bad about it ;P

Anyway, seeing those Panzer-Soldat-Weapons makes me want to kill someone myself. I am pretty sure I know what Greamheart wants to do with it and I don't like the idea of being part of this at all.

These days I sometimes miss those times when we did not see the corpses in so much detail and bathed in their own blood ^^'

You have to hand it to her, she was literally ready and willing to die for Van.

This was the one of 3 deaths that were having some emotional impact on the player. But only the first time. The second time I am watching this and with no emotions at all. Falcom really fucked it up with this games deaths. Because whenever I watch Millium and Olivert die in CS3 I cry even tho I know they are alive and will be coming back in CS4. The deaths in this game are nothing but boring and even somewhat stupid at times.

A lesson we learn throughout the Trails-Series time and time again is that if you rush things in an emotional state, it will never be good. Obviously its easier said than done to stay calm and collected after watching a monster impale the woman you love, but he arshived nothing with this, aside from going to Aidios side with Elaine, which certainly is not what she wanted, or otherwise, she would not have sacrificed himself for him.

You know, I often think about the waisted potential this story could have had. If Elaine would have truly died, everything would feel so much more impactful and it would also have been really a new route to see the protagonist lose the person he loves most and struggle to move on. Also... Elaine dying as an A-Rank Bracer would also have had much more impact than some Random bracer we barely saw once or twice dying off-screen. But at the end of the day, Falcom still shys away from truly killing our main-characters...

I tell you this screen is your biggest nightmare in this game.

It is pretty annoying that we have to go to almost complete the same scene twice. They could and should have handled that differently. Jumped to a later moment and then get Vans reaction that something feels wrong. Like the moment when Agnes leaves.

(Urg. My Controller fell and wasn't working anymore. I don't seem to have a cable for my PS4 Controller and my PS5 Controller refused to connect. Getting my Switch-Controller to work is a hassle and to be honest, at this point I am too used to the X-Box controller so I rushed to the store so that I could get a new one before closing time, even tho I do not have the money this month. And just as I get back, after some fiddling, my old controller is working again. But I guess, money problems aside, at least now I do have a replacement at hand, if needed... in any case... lets continue. Although I've lost most of my motivation...)

Its called saving your ass!

Agnes might not be the one, but the way she observes and analyzes Van is pretty amazing. She can read him like an open book.

For someone who is supposed to give up her pursue at the end of this game, she is quite bold, taking his hand and all.

Something tells me I am slightly or significantly underleveled ^^'

I have to admit, back in the day, this moment caused me a slight second or two of panic.

Ah... my two beautiful children. It has not been this long, but I still have missed you ♥

#kurocs mona version

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wri0thesley · 3 years

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Nat. NAT. I just saw your concept about naoya "training" his wife by just throwing her in the room and just watching her struggle to defend herself... Until she ofc breaks and begs him to protect her🙈 you have a MASSIVE brain, the biggest and horniest brain nat can you please write this concept for the event😭😭 maybe w 45 and any other dark or spicy add ons that you see fit!

traditional discipline - naoya x fem!reader (3.3k)

naoya has had enough of you, and resorts to an unusual method of discipline.

warnings: not sfw/minors dni. DARK CONTENT. unhealthy relationship/marriage. fearplay, dacryphilia, finger-sucking, cock-sucking, punishment, threat of violence and death. dubious consent. afab reader with fem pronouns.

[a/n: this concept literally wouldn’t leave me alone. i’m sorry to all of the readers who are naoya’s wife i’m always so horrible to them]

The room goes quiet as Naoya hauls you out of it by your upper arm.

It’s an easy mistake, a simple slip-up; accidentally talking over your husband. But it’s one in a slew you’ve been making recently, despite Naoya thinking that you were polite and well-bred and knew your place. He’s sick of it, to be quite frank; he doesn’t have time to be correcting you when you should already know how to behave.

You’ve done accidental, small things since the two of you were married. Denying him when he rolled you onto your back at night. Not standing quite as far behind him as you should. Pouring tea for other people before him. He’s given you swift reprimand with both his words and his hands, but . . . it’s clearly not sinking into your pretty little head, is it?

He warned you about this.

“Next time,” he’d growled to you, when you’d laughed too loud at a joke that one of his brothers had made and not laughed at one of his, “I’m going to teach you a real lesson.”

He tells you about the ‘training and discipline room’ on the Zenin estate later that night. A room that the family use for honing cursed techniques, both for practising and for learning purposes, when someone needs to be brought down a peg or two. It’s full of cursed spirits – all the way up to grade two, which makes your blood run cold.

Of course, you have cursed energy. You even have a careful little technique; one that would wrap your enemies up in vines, if you’d ever been allowed to train to use it for anything other than keeping your well-appointed garden neat and orderly. Naoya would not have married someone without either of those things, lest they not bear him fruitful children--

But you have never been allowed to use it for anything more.

The women of your clan are pretty decoration, with no need to learn anything other than how to behave and how to please their masters-and-husbands. You would be useless, thrown into the den of the wolves like that.

“Please don’t,” you’d said to him, your voice all soft and gentle, trying to be appeasing. “Please. I promise I’ll try harder.”

Naoya had taken your chin between thumb and forefinger, the grin across his face very sharp as his light eyes took in the pleading in your own gaze. You remember how the light had hit his earrings, the look of satisfaction at your begging and having you utterly and completely under his thumb.

“Be good,” he’d breathed, all slow and drawling. “And I won’t have to, will I?”

And he’d bid you to get on your knees for him and show you just how good you could be. Starting with your mouth.

So you know where he’s dragging you, down the labyrinthine halls of the estate. You try and pull back, feet sliding on the tatami mat, your voice pitching as you say;

“Naoya, please, I’m sorry--”

“Women should be seen and not heard,” he says to you. “Don’t make a fuss like that. You earned this.”

Your eyes are filling with tears, hot fear clawing its way up your throat.

“I’ll do anything,” you say to him, despite knowing that it’s a dangerous bargain to give him. He almost considers it for a moment, pausing – but then, his fingers just dig harder into the softness of your bicep (you’re going to bruise), and he tugs you.

“You’re making a scene,” he says. “If you don’t stop, I’ll leave you in there even longer.” You try to wrench your arm out of his grip, all of your self-defense mechanisms going into overdrive as you recognise the door he’s leading to you too. You’re breathless, so frightened you think that your heart might stop.

Naoya opens the door and pulls you in. You almost stumble at the flight of stairs, but he clicks his tongue at you in annoyance.

“So clumsy,” he drawls. “And here I was, under the impression I was marrying a graceful, lovely, credit to her family--” More steps, until he’s gotten you in the middle of the floor. He gazes around him, and you hear the low hum of a hundred cursed spirit’s voices murmuring the same things, over and over again. “The only time you’re a credit to them is with your legs spread.”

“Naoya,” you whimper, torn between pushing yourself into him for the comfort and protection that you know he can offer, or trying to tear away from him and escape the room yourself. You know the second option won’t work – he’s far faster, far stronger than you – but it’s hard to think of anything when you feel like your very survival is teetering impossibly over your head.

“If you run,” he says, still in that cold, uninterested drawl, “I’ll break one of your ankles.”

You don’t think he’s bluffing. Naoya says a lot of things, yes – but he’s also reckless and proud enough to mean them. You stand there, next to him, feeling yourself begin to tremble.

“W-why aren’t they attacking yet?” You ask him, voice very small. He looks at you pityingly.

“They’re afraid of me, obviously,” he says to you, very slowly, like he’s explaining it to somebody very stupid. “I didn’t get this good at everything by not training myself, darling.” He lets go of you, finally, a whistle escaping his pursed mouth as he rocks on the balls of his feet. He’s supremely unconcerned by your fear. “When I’m gone, they’ll come out for you.”

Your eyes fill with tears.

“What am I supposed to do?” You ask him, desperation leaking into your cracked voice. “I can’t—I can’t protect myself--”

Naoya narrows his eyes.

“You should have thought about that before you were such a pain,” he replies. And, without further ado, he turns around and begins to ascend the stairs again. You turn with him, moving forward, stumbling in your haste and ending up sprawled at the bottom of the stairs with your hand pathetically fisted into the hem of his hakama.

He looks down at you with a disgusted sneer on his face, and you hate that even with that expression his features are still unmistakably handsome.

“Let go,” he says. “Have some dignity.”

“Please,” you repeat. You can feel a fat tear spilling from the corner of your eye down the curve of your cheeks. You know the ‘dignity’ statement is a dig; the fact that you’ve heard his family members calling your clan power-hungry undignified gold-digging whores, but you can’t bring yourself to care when you can see the beginning of shadows spilling out too far into the main floor of the room. “Naoya. Please.”

He kicks out at your wrist, face twisted in distaste, and you let go to avoid it being stood on and crushed under his strength. You cradle it against your chest, looking up at him still all desperate and afraid.

“If I helped,” he said to you, “you’d never learn your lesson.” He takes a step up and turns away completely from you, as if you’re nothing more than an ignored child on the street. “It will be good for you, beloved wife. Character-building.” You hear the smirk in his voice and you hate him.

You want to strangle him. You want to beg him to protect you. You want to tear him limb from limb, but you want him to let you bury your head in his chest as he dispels the spirits with ease. You want--

The door slams shut behind him. He’s too cheerful as he throws behind him;

“Good luck!”

And you are left alone.

It takes a moment before anything slithers out from the shadows, and you clap your hand over your mouth to stop yourself screaming. The first cursed spirit is a hunched over creature with the face of a Pierrot clown, mouth stretched impossibly wide with gaping black abyss where eyes ought to be. It’s whispering something over and over to itself, but the wide mouth is so crowded with teeth that it comes out as an incomprehensible noise, dripping drool as it begins to move horrifically slowly towards you.

Oh, God. You’re not supposed to look at them, are you? You dimly recall something about many sorcerers wearing glasses so the creatures can’t tell where their gazes are, but this one has already got the scent of you; those dark pits staring at your crumpled form.

Everything you’ve ever been told in passing about jujutsu and cursed spirits and cursed technique just seems to flow out of your mind to be replaced by mind-numbing fear. You’ve not been trained for this; when your clan had arranged your marriage with Naoya, you know that they’d expected fine silken kimonos and traditional food and you being a pretty trophy on the arm of the future leader of their clan. You know they’d be horrified if they saw what was happening.

More of them are melting from the shadows, the whispering and moaning reaching a terrifying crescendo. You’re trembling. Your heart is beating so fast inside of your chest you think it might break free of your ribcage and sputter out onto the floor.

The Pierrot monster is close enough that you can see the six hands it drags on the floor are all tipped with claws that are sharp as blades. You scramble up the stairs on your ass, too afraid to turn your back on the creatures. You realise you’re shouting, but it seems just as blurred as anything that the cursed spirits are saying. You’re crying, too – howling, whimpering, so scared you’re surprised any noise is able to come out at all.

You’re going to die.

It hits you with cruel certainty as you reach the top and throw your weight at the door, only for it to not give an inch. You scramble at the heavy wood, not caring about your careful manicure (Naoya wants you to be a credit to him, and that means manicures and facial treatments and a fancy bathroom full of soaps and creams that he expects you to use and that he slathers, too, on himself). You hear a nail break but you can’t bring yourself to worry about that when the Pierrot monster is dragging itself up the flight of stairs, one step at a time. It makes a hideous sliding thump, like it’s both wet and heavy – and you notice, too, the scent of blood invading your senses.

Your tear-blurred eyes can see all of the other monsters, too – not quite as close, but still too close for comfort. Too many eyes and not enough eyes, too many legs, claws and teeth and misshapen bones and blood leaking from holes. What are you supposed to do?

Naoya has left you here, alone, to teach you a lesson. You hadn’t realised the lesson would culminate in your death, but with all of the spirits so close to you, you cannot see any other way.

All of the fight goes out of you and you sag against the door, a broken sob escaping your lips. Your throat is dry from hoarse screaming.

You are going to die. You hope it will come quick; you hope the Pierrot monster will tear you limb from limb and you’ll die in instants from the shock. Your voice whispers Naoya’s name one last, hopeless time.

Will he find another wife? Will they even bother covering up your death, or will they spin some rumour or lie to your family and the whole of jujutsu society that you brought it upon yourself?

You would do anything to be rescued right now. You would crawl on your hands and knees behind Naoya for the rest of your life, refer to him only as ‘Master’, fulfil every single thing he ever asked you with no more than a meek nod of your head. Pull out your tongue so you couldn’t make any more mistakes.

But the time for pleading seems to have gone entirely, and you are useless and stupid and weak as you run out of tears, eyes burning. All you can do, you think, is wait for death.

The door swings open behind you and you’re dragged backwards, onto tatami, by powerful hands gripping your shoulders as it closes once more with a massive clunk that echoes in your ears--

And you find yourself strewn out on the floor, face caked with dried tear-tracks, a trembling, pathetic mess looking up at your husband’s face.

He leans against the door, listening to you scream. He can hear his name mixed in with sobs and screams and pleading; saying that you’ll do anything, you’re sorry, you’ll never disobey him again you’ll take any punishment he metes out with a smile on your face, if he just helps you. He hears you call yourself weak and pathetic and useless around the tears clogging your throat; he hears the thump of you hitting the door and the sound of your nails scratching down the wood, uncaring of anything other than getting away from them.

Yes, he thinks as he opens the door for you and you fall, shivering and sobbing, in front of him. Yes, he thinks you’ve learnt your lesson.

You’re so pretty, he thinks, closing it once more (he sees the cursed spirits begin to creep back to where they came from at the very sight of him, now their preferred victim is protected), with your eyes all glassy and wet. You’re extra pretty looking at him like he’s a conquering hero who’s saved you from certain death – which he supposes he is.

You cling to his arm, pulling yourself up, burying your face in his chest as your hands cling to him like you’ve been lost and he’s the first familiar thing you’ve seen in months. Your tears soak his kimono, but . . . he finds himself not really minding, as big, lean hands pet you gently on the back.

“It’s alright now,” he soothes you, murmuring low. “Your husband has you.”

“Please, please, ‘m so sorry--” You’re mumbling into him, whimpering, your shoulders shaking. “Please never m-make me, again--”

“Shhh,” he continues, gently beginning to move towards his chambers. You cling to him, adrift in a sea of your own fears. “It’s better now. You’ll be better now, won’t you?”

He receives a fierce nod for that, your fingers twisting into his clothing. It’s nice, having you so wrapped around him; seeing him as the strong protector that he knows he is but you needed reminding of. You’re still mewling little pleas into him even as he unlocks the door to his bedroom and gently pushes you in. Letting go of him even for a moment seems to cause you physical pain--

Good. You should feel like that. You should feel incomplete without him at your side. Naoya rewards you with a rare, soft smile.

“You know why you had to be punished like that, don’t you?” He purrs to you, petting your hair and carefully drawing back so he can look at your face. Your lips are all swollen from crying and biting; he thinks you’ve never looked quite so kissable as you do right now.

“Yes,” you nod, fiercely. “I’m sorry. I’ll do a-anything, I promise. I . . .” You swallow, your eyes filling with tears again. Naoya has been hard since the moment he heard you call out his name from inside the training room, your voice filled with choked tears, and watching them well up again does nothing for the stricture against the fabric. “I needed you.”

“And I saved you,” he says, arching an elegant brow – to which you nod again, and your hands drift towards him like you’re aimless without him in front of you to serve. “I’ll protect you, darling, as long as you learn your place.”

“I will!” That’s said with such conviction that he can’t help the smirk that tugs at the corner of his mouth. “I will. N-Naoya . . .” Your voice trembles a little. “’m willing to do anything for you. J-just please . . . not again.”

“Shh,” he reaches out and deigns to touch you, to gently and soothingly rub his thumb over your cheek, where the tears have dried. “If you’re really going to be so good for me, I won’t have to, will I?” You stumble forward onto your knees and Naoya’s brows shoot up in surprise as your hands tug at his hakama.

“Please let me show you how grateful I am,” you whisper, your eyes wide and bright and desperate. “Naoya, please, please, please--”

Oh, there’s something so gratifying about you like this, begging to suck his cock. It stirs between his thighs again, reminding him that he’s painfully stiff; and you are here, a willing mouth, scared out of your skull and desperate to please him. He’s smirking at you but you do not register it as such; all you see is the smile of your rescuer.

Your protector.

Your husband.

“Say what you want to do to me, darling,” he tells you, keeping his voice as sweet as he can make it. “You’re a big girl. You can use your words. What do you want to do, to show me how grateful you are that I saved your paltry life?”

You’re pouting; your mouth is sweet, pretty. He wants to pry your jaw open and fuck the back of your throat, and his body roars as your fingers tug on the hakama again and your meek, soft voice whispers;

“Please let me suck your cock.”

“You have a dirty mouth,” he coos to you, leaning forward to brush a finger over your lower lip. “Not befitting of a woman of your station. I suppose that means that it’s up to me to keep you quiet, hmm?”

You obediently open it, letting his finger gently rest on your tongue for a moment.

Desperate to please, your mouth closes about it, your tongue gently swiping over the pad, your cheeks hollowing a little as you suck on the digit inside of them. Naoya’s smiling again, the victorious grin of someone who’s gotten exactly what they wanted. He pulls his finger out and thrusts back in with two, whispering to you;

“Do you think you deserve my cock, after what you put me through today?”

You shake your head, but you don’t stop lavishing attention on the fingers in your mouth, a string of drool falling from the corner of your mouth as he presses his third finger inside of it. So warm, and wet. He needs his cock to be inside of you or he thinks he may embarrass himself.

The fingers are pulled out, wiped on the hakama fabric, before he says (the carefully adopted tone almost disinterested);

“Take them off, then. Don’t make your promises empty words. I wouldn’t appreciate such thoughtlessness in a wife.”

You’re eager, stripping off his clothes. Your mouth practically waters at the sight of his cock; elegant, flushed, hard and straining with a light upwards curve that he knows will hit you in the right place at the back of your throat to make you gag.

“Wait,” he says, as you lean in to bring him to your lips. “What do you say, darling?”

Your eyes (still brimming with tears, he notices – and fuck, he loves how you look teary-eyed and pouting. He has to make you cry more often) meet his, but the look in yours is worshipful so he doesn’t chide you for having the insolence to meet his gaze directly.

“Thank you,” you breathe. “For saving me. For letting me suck your cock. For everything.”

Naoya is smiling.

“Good girl,” he says, placidly, as you place a delicate kiss on the head of his cock and slowly envelope it in the warmth of your mouth. “Very good.”

724 notes · View notes

oro-e-diamanti · 3 years

Text

Quiet Music: Capriccio (Chapter 4)

In collaboration with @bethanysnow whose ask box is always open for questions, comments, and anything else about this story as well!

Catching the small flames of romance, starting to get turned on higher. They have a tour to do, right? Not spend all their time making goo-goo eyes at each other.....unless?

Content | Fluff

Pairing | fem!Reader x Damiano

Word Count | 8274

Taglist | @damianodavide @lizstans @unitermoonshine @its-afucking-mess @ethaneskin @dont-let-me-drown-in-you@vampirtet @lividisuigomiti @juststalking @tabi-toast @ethan-torchio-angelo @cheese-toastie-11 @thewitchinthemountain @ethanesimp @sofckinelectric @man3skin @daddydamiano @finelinejpm @superchrystaldrug @ginny-lily @nientedaridere @rainbowmarta @tiaamberxx @shaunthesheesh @enjcltaire @rocketqueen @aleksanderwh0r3 @dacey0eg @damianodavidhands @megann-duff @teatrodellavita @solasullabarca @fanfictionandfluff @makapaka11 @slave4yourlove @geklutst-ei @bookish0918 @mehrmonga @kanevill @butterfly-skinnylegend @lidiyabest @ccweasley @bluscryn @deluxeplanteater @ohtorchio @bidet-and-legolas @maybanksslut @katyldamusic @fedorable-killjoys

***

"Thomas," Y/n stared down as he entered the bus. "When I gave you my personal number it was meant for emergencies, not you texting me because you forgot what "sempiternal" means in the middle of the night. What were you reading anyway?!"

"Nothing." Thomas looked up at her from where he was sitting, wide eyes, feigning innocence.

Y/n shook her head, not believing the guitarist and his horrible poker face, but not being bothered enough to question him any further either. “Well, next time you have a question like that in the middle of the night, ask google instead.” She gave him a warm smile and a little pat on the head as she passed him by, moving down the hallway of the tour bus.

It had become a routine for her to stop at the stove first, starting the coffee for everyone, then having a look around as she was waiting for it to boil. Damiano was slumped over on a couch, his head in his hand and still half asleep. She wondered how little rest he had gotten last night, after meeting him out on the balcony at 2 am.

Had he stayed awake for hours, like she had? Had he been thinking about her, the way she had been thinking about him? He had flirted quite heavily last night and she wasn’t sure whether to attribute it to his sleepiness, or if he had meant it at all. She wasn’t quite sure what she was hoping for either. He was insanely attractive, and the attention he gave her made her heart beat in ways no other man had managed to do before. But this wasn’t the time or situation to turn into a bundle of nerves because of a boy.

Even if her brain had decided to play fantasies of him storming into her hotel room last night. Demanding to kiss her. Holding her face in his hands. Looking at her with those dark, hazel eyes, like she was the only person in the world. Probably smelling of sleep and cigarettes and all that made him inherently Damiano. She knew the smell well, it had been haunting her all throughout this whole fucking tour. But the fantasies kept coming, imagining him in love with her, even if she never truly believed in it. It was a nice idea, nothing more.

The sharp hiss of the coffee pot pulled her out of his thoughts and woke up Damiano from his half-slumber. Tired eyes trying to make out the source of the noise, smiling slightly when realising that caffeine was coming his way. Y/n quickly moved to get his cup ready, preparing it the way she had already learned he preferred. He readily held out his hand for the beverage, fingers briefly touching. She almost dropped it as sparks ran through her. She wasn’t sure if he had felt the same or simply hid it better. But as soon as the cup was safely in his hands, she turned back around. Back to the stove to take a deep breath and continue her morning routine.

I need to get over myself. This is a job. Getting fluttery over your boss is not gonna help get the job done. Ignore him. He didn’t feel anything. You need to work. Not imagine something that is never gonna happen. It's not gonna happen, Y/n.

She made quick work depositing the other mugs to Victoria and Thomas, before finding Ethan in the very back of the bus. Drum sticks in hands and absentmindedly tapping a beat on the table in front of him.

“Coffee?”

“Yeah, thank you,” he answered, absentmindedly. “Hey, Y/n, does this sound good to you?”

Ethan started to play out a beat, effectively ignoring the cup that had been placed on the table, as she sat down beside him to listen.

“I’m no musician, but it certainly sounds good to my ears!”

Ethan gave her a proud smile, putting his drumsticks to the side for a second to take a sip from his drink. Y/n, grabbed them immediately, beating randomly on the table.

“You know what? I may have to take you up on your offer of teaching me to play. Love how you guys always have stuff around, you’re just constantly thinking about music. I wish I knew how to play," she sighed.

“I can show you a bit of drumming right now, if you’d like?” He offered. “Just a bit of a rhythm on the table right here.”

He moved closer to her, taking her hands in his as she kept holding onto the sticks and tried to get her to play a little, easy beat, but the angle was awkward and her wrist was bent too much to properly tap along.

“Okay, this isn’t working,” he laughed. “Would you mind, um, moving between my legs?”

Y/n could feel another blush coming on. It may be just Ethan, but it IS Ethan and Ethan sure is pretty. She studied his face, unassuming, nothing but a welcoming smile. But she felt odd. She had only been working for this band for a few days, yet she’d already grown closer to them than any other client she had worked with before. Normally she’d do her job, get a quick thank you on the way out, and then just retire somewhere. Do uni work, wait for further instructions. This whole thing was new and as much as she was enjoying it, she wasn’t sure if she was crossing lines she shouldn’t as a personal assistant. Then again, what was the harm in a little lesson? It wasn’t like there was anything else to it. This wasn’t him trying to flirt with her, this was him trying to be a friend. She could do with a friend.

With a quick nod, she moved and sat down on the floor in front of Ethan. Nestling between his legs as he held her hand. Helping her get into position before backing up a little to give her more space. Grabbing her hands again with the sticks to demonstrate how she was supposed to hold and then hit the table. He leaned over her to watch what she was doing. She understood quickly, getting the hang of it and before she knew it Ethan had let go of her hands as she was successfully keeping the rhythm going.

“See? Natural talent,” he laughed behind her.

Neither of them had noticed Damiano walk down the corridor towards them until he stopped in the doorway.

“Ah, Dami! Look what Ethan taught me!” Y/n starts repeating the little rhythm with the biggest smile on her face, proud of herself and what she’d learned in such a short time. Ethan leant back, watching her with a smile.

“Good job, Y/n. Keep going and you might replace Edgar soon,” Damiano said, ducking into the bathroom with a laugh.

Y/n watched him disappear. Her heart fluttered as he left her sight. If he could just not be my boss, that’d be fucking great…

She stood back up to sit next to Ethan on the couch, shaking the thought off. “I see why you like drumming, it’s fun.”

“Thank you, I think so too. You enjoy being our assistant, by the way?” Ethan asked, looking at her inquisitively while finally continuing to drink his coffee.

“Actually, yes. Best job I have ever taken. I know your manager is an absolutely wonderful woman. Didn’t know she planned this position for me originally though, kinda scared me to be honest.”

“Are we scary?”

“No, no. You’re all lovely. You are the biggest group I’ve worked for so far, so there’s that. But…” Y/n moved to sit on her leg now, leaning closer to Ethan, starting to feel more comfortable around him. “You four are indescribably amazing people. My mum would probably call you ‘people after God’s heart’,” she imitated her mother’s Northern accent, making Ethan laugh.

“Shocking, I know, that we’re normal!”

Y/n smacked his chest.

“No! You are far better than anyone- no one on this bus is ‘normal’.”

“Even the driver?”

“Especially the driver.”

***

Damiano hadn’t meant to listen in, but standing behind the slightly closed door of the restroom, he couldn’t help himself, even if it was killing him. Ethan and Y/n would probably be really good for each other… The thought flashed through him. No. It wouldn’t happen. Not under his watch.

Last night had been a blessing and a curse. After finishing his smoke, he had stood out on the balcony for a little longer, imagining the conversations they would have been having if she had stayed out with him. Under the moonlight. Måneskin. Her hair down, she would probably go get another glass of wine. Coming back out to see him.

“What about you, amore mio? Working on more Shakespeare?”

“Yes. Always. I work hard for things I want, you know me. All work no play makes Y/n a happy girl,” she would snicker into her wine glass.

“What if I wanted you. What would I have to do? Never been shy about ... hard… work, either…”

“Why don’t you come and find out, the door is unlocked…”

With a heavy sigh, he moved to the sink to splash some water on his face, raking it through his hair. It was only early in the morning, he didn’t need to unscrew his head just yet. She was just a girl. Just some girl that worked for them. There were so many people on the team, she was simply one of them. But she was also a woman, with wants and needs and desires, and oh, how he would love to attend to every single one of them… Maybe I could be a need for her, for the beautiful woman just one room over. He screamed internally. He was done for.

***

By the time Y/n left Ethan to his coffee, Damiano was back on the couch with a pen and paper, gears visibly turning in his head. He didn’t even look up when she entered. See, just a guy, Y/n thought. Victoria was busy bickering with the driver about wanting to stop at a service station within the next hour. Thomas was scrolling through his phone absent-mindedly.

As soon as Vic had finished her conversation, she walked over to where Y/n was sitting, letting herself drop onto the seat next to her heavily, laying her head on her shoulder. “Y/n I want snacks.”

“I bought snacks, they’re in the cupboard.”

“But, fun snacks! Like you,” the bassist winked.

“As much as I love the compliment, Victoria, I am sure the driver will take us to the next petrol station after hearing your plea.” She kissed the top of the blonde’s head. “You can survive a little longer without sugary snacks.”

Victoria looked up at her with big blue eyes, wrapping her arms around the assistant. “But what if I can’t, Y/n,” she whined, pulling a dramatic pose. “What if I waste away without fun snacks.”

“Vic, love, nothing here will make you die because you haven’t had food. I provided all of you with breakfast - it was your decision to let Thomas eat yours.”

“And I don’t regret a thing!” Thomas shouted from his seat, all three of them breaking out into laughter. Y/n grinned, eyes falling back onto some of the papers in front of her, ready to get back into work. Victoria’s arm looped around Y/n’s as she snuggled into her shoulder with a pitiful sigh.

***

Goddamnit, not her, too.

Damiano had meant to start writing some more, lyrics and words and images flowing through his head in a chaos that needed to be tamed by pen and paper. But as soon as he had sat down Victoria had started moaning about snacks and her little interaction with Y/n had taken up all of the brain space the lyrics should have. His eyes kept focusing on the closeness between the two of them. The way Vic leant her head on Y/n’s shoulder, the way she in turn kissed the bassist’s head. So far he had only considered Ethan to be a concern. But now the thought of Victoria herself meddling was increasingly growing. So she might have had a boyfriend but that had been, what? Years ago? She had said? And the guy had been a dick. What if she’d just given up on men completely, deciding to exclusively date girls from now on? Fuck.

Staring at the way Victoria was now cuddling her, his thoughts ran wild. Was this still friendly? Was the smile she was giving Vic flirty? Maybe she hadn’t been returning his flirtations the way he’d been hoping because it was Vic she was interested in, not him?

Dwelling on these thoughts wasn’t going to help. Jealousy, envy, insecurity… as interesting as they would be as drag names, they weren’t going to solve the issue. Damiano felt stuck. Making heart eyes at a girl who was three feet away while she was none the wiser. Yet it was Victoria latching onto her arm. He wasn’t surprised. She was gorgeous, and funny, and cared about people. And Vic had a lot of good qualities he himself didn’t possess. Maybe it’s the boobs? His brain mused, but he shook it off. That wasn’t it, he was sure of it.

***

Victoria studies Damiano. His face would have been unreadable to anyone else, obviously lost in his thought. But she knew him well enough to understand that the look on his face was one of insecurity and upset. Not necessarily at anything in particular, just upset. Her eyes softened. Raising a brow at the singer. He simply shrugged, shaking his head, then taking the notebook he was carrying everywhere. Opening it up, staring at the words written there, but not adding anything. Yet his eyes never stopped flicking away to everyone else around him, obviously restless. What was up with him? If there was one thing Victoria hated it was one of her friends feeling off and her not being able to do anything about it. But she knew Damiano, and she knew it could be hard to get him to budge if he didn’t want to talk.

As their eyes met once more, she took the chance to mouth at him, “You alright?”

His eyes flashed at Y/n for a split second, he probably hadn’t even noticed it himself, before nodding with a tight-lipped smile, then looking back down at his pages. That was when it finally clicked in Victoria’s mind. It was about her. And from the looks he kept secretly giving her, the problem wasn’t dislike.

***

“SNACKS!” Victoria and Thomas all but yelled as the bus pulled into the parking lot of a little petrol station. The band ran out of the bus, stumbling over each other like a hoard of kindergartners, and Y/n couldn’t help but smirk at their behaviour. Following them in a much more composed manner.

By the time she entered the shop, all four members of the band had dispersed into different corners. Trying to figure out what to buy. Damiano was holding up two chocolate bars, obviously trying to decipher what the difference was with no knowledge of Swedish whatsoever, before shrugging his shoulders and taking both.

Y/n was still in the doorway, grabbing a basket and consulting a little list on her phone. As much as she loved to let them run wild, she would not completely have them overdose on sugar. No matter how much they wanted to. She still felt responsible for their wellbeing, even on their days off. Juice felt like a sensible choice.

Suddenly, she saw a hand appear from behind her, casually taking out some orange juice from her basket. She turned around in surprise, only to be faced with Thomas looking at her with wide eyes, obviously feeling caught.

“No healthy stuff from the petrol station!” He suddenly shouted, grabbing her whole basket now and running away with it.

“Thomas!” She flew after him before she knew what she was doing, almost running over Ethan as she chased the guitarist through the little store. With not much space available, they ended up going round and round one of the shelves, until Thomas unceremoniously crashed into a cooler when he didn’t manage to take a turn in time. Trying to bite back a smile, Y/n walked over, breathlessly asking him if he was alright, as laughter still bubbled out of her. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Victoria, giggling away, phone pointed towards them.

“Oh no, you’re not putting that on the internet!” Y/n pointed a finger at her in what she hoped was an authoritative gesture, but Victoria wasn’t impressed.

“Too late!” She squealed as she skipped away, out of reach, to pay for whatever she had picked out.

Thomas had gotten back up on his feet in the meantime, contents of the basket still spilled all around him, sporting a pout.

“Stop it with that face,” Y/n scolded, but she couldn’t keep the smile at bay. “Go pick out your favourite snack, you can add it to my basket.”

Thomas happily skipped away as Y/n quickly picked up the mess, then moved to another aisle finding Damiano there. He seemed to be debating over the crisps now, having moved on from the chocolate bars.

She stood to the side, her eyes flashing over him a couple more times than necessary. He was just too pretty. It was simply impossible to look away. Even now, no fancy clothes, no stage makeup, no grand performance, he was mesmerising.

Her brain couldn’t help itself, images and ideas flashing in front of her eyes. Going to a petrol station on road trips with their future kids. Them bouncing around, chasing each other over a candy bar. Her and Damiano trying to get them not to cause a mess, slightly annoyed, but always laughing along with them.

She looked at him again. In a blink, the daydream changed.

It’s past midnight. He’s in the same sweatshirt he’s wearing right now. Her arms wrapped around his torso. Looking up at that beautiful face of his. Him picking up condoms from the health section. Winking at her with that certain glint in his eyes. Smacking her arse on the way to the cashier. Filled with giggles and flirtatious glances and knowing what the night ahead would entail. The anticipation crackling around them.

Oh, to be that girl. The girl he looks at with lustful eyes. The one he wasn't to make a baby with. Not the one to be ashamed of.

***

Damiano had chosen what kind of crisps to buy long ago. He simply was too busy staring back at Y/n, who seemed to be lost in thought. Eyes focused on him, yet apparently not noticing him looking back. He could basically see the gears in her head turning, mouth slightly open, far away in her mind.

Whatever enraptured that beautiful mind of hers… He wanted to know - could he be that very thing someday? Be so involved in her thoughts that it caused her to finally slow down? Get her to relax. He kept daydreaming about the massage he had given her the other day. How she had melted into his touch. He wanted that again. But more. He wanted her sighs and her moans as he worked her body in any way she would let him. Hell, he’d be her personal roadie if she wanted.

Fuck, he was smitten. She was always so strong-willed, so passionate. That night on the balcony had done nothing to help his fantasies. Her teaching him how to dance? Bodies close to each other, breathing the same air… Whatever perfume she used, he wanted to drown in it.

***

Victoria had been on the way back out, snacks acquired, Instagram story uploaded, and ready to head back to the bus for the last two hours of the ride. However, she stopped dead in her tracks when Y/n and Damiano caught her eye. Both of them were staring at the other, yet neither seemed to realise it. Just lost in their own worlds. Vic frowned, not oblivious to the dreamy look on Y/n’s face or the way Damiano’s eyes kept flicking up and down their assistant’s body. Something was definitely going on here and she was determined to find out what exactly it was.

After Y/n had finally moved again, paying for the snacks, Victoria caught up with her outside the shop. Their driver was having a smoke, surely had more than enough time left for a little talk.

“Y/n, wait up,” Vic quickly jogged up to her, taking the shopping bag out of her hand and carrying it into the bus ahead of her.. “Let me help you.”

She was counting on the guys to be staying outside for a little longer, probably lighting up a cigarette each as soon as they were done snack-shopping.

“So…” She started, putting away the snacks alongside Y/n. “Saw you staring at Damiano in there.”

Great, this wasn’t subtle at all, she scowled at herself. Tact had never been her strong suit in these situations. She was far more likely to rush into a conversation, head first, too open, too honest, too soon.

“I- uh- I don’t know what you mean. I was probably just staring off into space.”

Okay, she was getting flustered. Victoria knew she was onto something here, but it wouldn’t be easy to get anything out of Y/n. She was way too professional and… uptight for that. And they didn’t exactly have any red wine on tap to get her to open up.

“You know, there’s no harm in it. He’s a very attractive man,” she said, playfully nudging Y/n’s side. “Pretty sure everyone’s had the hots for him at some point.”

“Well I haven’t, it's very unprofessional.” Y/n stubbornly replied and Victoria almost laughed out loud.

Sure, she hadn’t. That’s why she was staring at him like he was a drink of water in the middle of a desert. Or why she was getting all flustered every time he touched her. Or why she always seemed to gravitate towards him, whatever she was doing. But that wasn’t what Vic was going to say. It wouldn’t get them anywhere. She had learned that much about Y/n.

“All my friends used to have a crush on him in school,” Vic laughed, remembering their beginnings. “They’d just hang out whenever we were rehearsing, making heart eyes at him and complimenting his every move, but he never cared. He never even looked at them, just giving them a polite hello. Never paid them any attention because he was way too focused on the music we were making. He’s always been like that. Music has always come first. It’s why I think it’s so peculiar how interested he is in you.”

If Y/n had been flustered before, she was full-on blushing now, rapidly opening a random cabinet to hide her face, but Victoria had seen. Her eyes got wide, as if she had been struck by lightning.

“He’s not interested in me, don’t be silly. I work for him just as I work for you and we all get along. Nothing is going to happen if that is what you are worried about. I would never jeopardize the tour or our friendship. He doesn’t even see me like that, anyway, so it’s fine. It’s not like I’m his type, and like, I mean-”

“Hey,” Victoria turned more serious now. As much as she enjoyed teasing her new friend, she felt like she needed to let her know that she wasn’t kidding in this case. She put a tentative hand on her shoulder. Having the other turn around to have Y/n face her. “I’m serious though. I know it’s early days, but if you feel something for him? I’m not going to stop you. Neither is anyone else on this tour. He’s a great guy. And I’ll personally punch him if he isn’t. And I think you’re great Y/n. You deserve good things.”

For a second, Victoria could see a flicker of Y/n’s softer side, of her vulnerability. She felt compelled to pull her into a hug, but she feared making her uncomfortable, so instead, she simply pretended she hadn’t seen. Just like she pretended not to hear Y/n’s voice breaking just the tiniest bit when she said, “Thank you.”

***

The old town of Malmö was full of cobblestone, canals, and adorable old houses. When Y/n led them into the restaurant she had reserved for the evening, Damiano made sure to ask for a table by the window, enamoured by what looked to be the main square of the town and the people hurrying along. As he turned back towards the table, he noticed Y/n with a similar look on her face. Chin held up by her hand as she leaned on the table, watching the world pass by outside. A serene smile played on her face and he feared he was mirroring her expression when Victoria kicked his foot from under the table. Giving him a knowing smile and a raised brow. He shook his head, quickly grasping the menu to distract himself.

“Oooh happy hour!” Victoria squealed. “First round of cocktails is on me!”

Damiano almost let out a sigh - knowing fully well that when it came to an evening like this, they would not stop at a round or two. He was to be proven right.

About two hours later, the sun was on the verge of setting. There was a nice buzz going on, dinner eaten, while the drinks kept coming. Thomas was retelling a story Damiano had heard about a hundred times. Excitedly waving his hands around he only just managed to grasp one of the glasses before the guitarist knocked it over. Y/n was listening attentively - the only one out of the bunch to not have heard Thomas’ retelling before. Damiano couldn’t help but notice how her cheeks were slightly flushed, a sure sign that she’d had a drink. He thought she looked adorable. She’d look just as adorable under me. He quickly put the thought away, blaming it on the alcohol he had consumed. Apart from Y/n - who had been responsible enough to switch back and forth between cocktails and water - they were all on the edge of being drunk, laughing too loudly, talking too excitedly, being a little too affectionate.

It’s what he blamed his behaviour on, when he found his foot searching for hers under the table. Giving her just the slightest, playful kick to get her attention. She looked at him immediately, raised eyebrows, obviously wondering if he had touched her by mistake. So this time, he fully smirked, holding eye contact, as he nudged her again. A timid smile appeared on her face and he was convinced that she would be awkward. Pulling back, possibly scolding him any other time. But her slightly intoxicated state seemed to leave her more open to his teasing. He barely believed it when she nudged him back. Maybe we’re actually getting somewhere here.

“Um, excuse me?”

The whole table looked up at once at the timid voice. Only to find two young girls awkwardly and uncomfortable standing next to them, faces as red as tomatoes and eyes wide.

“Are you Måneskin?”

“We are, actually!” Victoria beamed, immediately getting up. “Do you guys want some pictures?”

The girls didn’t seem to manage anything but hectic nods, too excited and overwhelmed. Damiano smiled. It didn’t matter how big they were getting - having people coming up to them to ask for photos, so obviously in love with them. Still made his heart beat like crazy. He’d do anything for the fans.

Quickly, getting up from his chair as well, he pulled the other two along with him, taking a few photos with the two, exchanging some words and thanking them for their support. Looking back at Y/n, he noticed she was getting a bit nervous.

“Guys, we should probably move back to the hotel now,” she said and it was only then that he took a look around and saw the amount of people staring. Talking and pointing phones at them. It was obvious none of them were actual fans - just hoping to get a glimpse of something to put on their social media. Damiano nodded, rounding up the rest of his band and leading them out of the restaurant, ready to call for a taxi as Y/n went to settle the tab and then followed them outside mere seconds later.

“Right let’s get you back to the hotel,” Y/n decided as they finally managed to flag down a taxi. “But don’t worry, the night’s not over yet - bring your swimsuits, I’ve got a little surprise for you.”

***

Y/n was perched on a little tiled bench, laptop with work opened at her side. A bluetooth speaker ready nearby. She’d slipped the girl at the reception a little money and a signed picture of the band, which she had gratefully taken, to make sure they’d have the hotel pool to themselves that night. Y/n was aware that the band tended to really enjoy a nice dip in the water and she was determined she’d get them to let loose and relax a bit before more gigs were coming their way.

She didn’t notice that everyone had arrived until a flash of blond ran past her and jumped into a pool with a massive splash. It shouldn’t have been a surprise that Thomas would announce his presence like this. She still flinched for a second. Ethan followed not much later, with Victoria opting for the stairs ‘for hair-related reasons’ and Damiano pushing her in anyways. Following swiftly himself, as she grabbed his hand as she was falling. Y/n shook her head, amused at the four, and turned on some music as she watched them.

She couldn’t help but smile at the way they all acted like little kids on a pool day. But behaviour was one thing - the way they looked was quite another. Water was running down their bodies… okay, one body in particular. She would be lying if she said that Damiano swimming around in nothing but his little shorts wasn’t… well, breathtaking. Tattoos on full display, hair wet, glistening skin. He was smiling, laughing, trying to outswim Thomas. The way his physique moved through the water… He was in formidable shape. What she would give to be manhandled by this man.

Him pinning her to a wall, smirking, looking down at her like he was going to eat her. He rightfully just might. Telling her all the dirty thoughts he had when on stage. Making her look away in a blush, but grabbing her face. Tsk-ing, ‘no, no, no, good girls look at who is speaking to them’.

But no. Work called her name, just loudly enough to pull her out of her fantasy.

***

Opening the laptop, she immediately seemed to get immersed in her work. Damiano watched her with a frown on his face. This was so like her - making sure everyone else got taken care of and was having a good time, only to withdraw and bury her in her work again. He wished she’d take more breaks to just enjoy.

Every now and then she looked away from the screen, watching what everyone else was doing and contently smiling to herself. He couldn’t help imagining her watching over him the same way with their kids. His head was running away with the idea.

Him splashing around with the children. Her watching over them, staying on the sidelines, smiling the way she was now. Making sure everyone was safe and happy. Snacks in hand. Their daughter climbing out of the water, running over to her. The way her eyes would light up, arms open wide, not caring about getting wet as she hugged her. He knew she’d be the most perfect mum, just from looking at her. Nothing had ever been as obvious to him.

A splash of water over his head pulled him out of his thoughts. Apparently, Ethan had caught him staring. He shrugged it off.

“Y/n! Come swim with us!” Victoria called, moving to the edge of the pool. The assistant did nothing but raise a brow at the request, shaking her head.

“You kids go have fun,” she laughed. “I’m fine here, doing a bit of work. Just because you got a day off, doesn’t mean I do too!”

“Ah, you’re no fun, Y/n. One night won’t kill you,” Thomas groaned, diving back under the water.

“Well, I didn’t even bring my swimsuit, so it’s out of the question anyway. Now let me do some work.” She tried to sound strict but the giggle bubbled in her voice anyway, still tiny traces of intoxication in her speech. Damiano grinned at the thought of her still being tipsy, slightly wondering if it’d give him the chance to get her to let her guard down the way she had done the night before.

“Oh, rubbish, you party pooper!” Vic shouted back. “Your underwear will do just fine, it’s not like anyone is here to tell you off.”

Y/n shot a look at Victoria. A blush that definitely wasn’t caused by alcohol crept onto her face.

“I’m alright, you have fun.”

Damiano’s head spun, looking at Y/n sitting on the bench. The sheer idea of her joining them like that? Potentially seeing her undress? He was more than glad the water was hiding the lower half of his body.

“Get over here now or we’re dragging you in!” Thomas threatened, already halfway through heaving himself out of the water.

Oh, no way I’m getting out of the water right now, not like this.

“Oh fine! Fine, fine. If it will make you all stop worrying about me ‘not having fun’,” she laughed.” She rolled her trousers up as she moved to the edge of the pool, kicked off her shoes, and let her legs dangle in the water as she sat down. “Happy?”

“For now,” Vic laughed. “But don’t think you’ll always get out of things this easily!”

“Oh come on guys, leave her be.” Ethan decided to be the voice of reason once again. He swam up to her, hair all piled on top of his head in a bun. “Sorry about them - they don’t know when to quit.”

Y/n giggled at his comment.

“It’s cool, nice seeing everyone have a good time though.” Y/n tilted her head for a moment, looking at Ethan. Slowly she raised a hand to hold his face still, the other hand pulling something out of his hair. “There you go. Can’t have fuzz in those luscious locks of yours!”

A scowl appeared on Damiano’s face. He knew he shouldn’t be feeling like this, but the way she was looking at Ethan right now, that soft touch, made all the fantasies in his head shatter for a moment. Why wasn’t she fixing his hair instead. Fuck, he was being stupid. His attention was drawn away from the pair as a loud squeal escaped Victoria, who was currently being wrestled in the water by Thomas.

“Don’t you dare dunk me!”

Damiano didn’t even have to watch to know what happened next. A second later, a spluttering Vic emerged, a murderous look in her eye as she dunked Thomas in return. Their little fight turned chaotic, ending with the top of her bikini slowly floating away from her.

“Aw Vic, do you always have to be topless?!” Thomas laughed loudly.

“You dick! You untied it!”

Y/n instantly covered her eyes, avoiding Victoria’s half-naked body at all costs, looking down at her lap.

“Um - maybe someone should, uh, give her her top back?” She stammered.

Vic looked at the blushing girl, a smirk growing on her face as she whispered something at Thomas, pointing at Y/n, obviously hatching a plan. She swam up to their friend, gently grabbing her legs under the water.

“You are the only one that seems to mind, amore… Do you not like my tits?” Victoria teased, cocking her head to the side as she tried to catch Y/n’s eyes.

“No! No, I mean- That’s not what I mean. Um… I don’t know - is it just me or is it hot in here?” Y/n was a mess, tripping over her words.

“The only one that’s hot here is you, Y/n,” Thomas grinned, swimming off to retrieve Vic’s top, which he handed to her as he came back. The blonde held it up to her boobs in a fake-clumsy way, big eyes looking up at Y/n.

“Oh, I think I’m going to need your help with this, Y/n. Mind tying me up?”

Y/n looked like she was about to explode, her face once again covered in a deep red. With slightly shaking fingers, she moved forwards as Vic turned her back towards her, fumbling with the strings around her neck and her back to tie them up.

“Thanks, babe, you’re a doll!” Victoria grinned, taking the assistant’s hand and leaving a little kiss on her knuckles. It was the point at which Damiano decided he’d definitely need to protect her from his bandmates. If anything, it was his time to bother Y/n now.

As Damiano swam over, Y/n was still bright red. Her head was still lowered, picking at her nail polish, as she squeaked out a “hi”. You’ve got to put on the charm now, you can do it, he said in his head, hyping himself up as he looked back at her. He didn’t want to bring her into even more of an awkward situation, but his hands were on her legs before he even noticed, slightly stroking along the curve of her calves under the water.

“Don’t mind those fools,” he told her in a voice low enough that they wouldn’t hear. “They’re just trying to rile you up because they like seeing you blush. It is a nice sight, to be fair. Seeing you blush.”

“Well, it’s not like I have control over that. Um. Y-you look cool… I mean - good. You know? … fucking hell.” She buried her face in her hands, stifling a flustered chuckle. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me today. I apologise, I will just hide now, forever.”

Yet, the smile on her face hadn’t left since Damiano had arrived. She bit her lip nervously, looking at the singer. Staring at him, maybe trying to figure out what his intentions were. He wished he knew. “Your, uh… eyes… they’re pretty.”

“Don’t even think about ever hiding that face from me, yeah?” He pulled her hands back down as she once again attempted to cover herself. He briefly forgot his hands were wet, until she giggled and patted her own dry on her shirt as he let go. “Your eyes are really pretty too, Y/n, so don’t deprive me of them.”

She blinked a couple of times, taken aback by what he had said. “Alright, I can do that.” She barely noticed they were holding hands. Rubbing her thumb over his skin softly, keeping herself grounded in place by the heat his body gave off under the water. “You just gotta step in when they start taking the piss again, yeah?”

He moved in closer now, only letting go of her hands to grasp onto her thighs, trying to keep himself above water. He was desperate to move between her legs, but he wasn’t going to ruin the moment by taking it too far. Not yet. “Of course. But amore mio, what if I wanted to, uh, ‘take the piss’?”

She smirked. “Oh! Then that’s fine.”

Damiano was sure his heart wasn’t even beating anymore, it was fluttering. There was something about her… every time he watched her, talked to her, he felt like he was looking at her for the first time. Finding a new side to her. He wanted more, constantly craving to get closer, and in moments like these. When she let him in just a little bit, made him feel like he was just one small step above the others, he felt like it was all going to be worth it. The slow way he was working himself into her heart.

“Y/N HAS A TATTOO ON HER ANKLE!” Thomas suddenly shouted, popping out of the water and pointing at the assistant. Damiano was pushed out of the way by Victoria, who grabbed Y/n’s leg. Hoisting it up in the air, turning it to show her ankle. A black outlined hand giving the middle finger with long black nails stared back at the band.

“That is really pretty,” Ethan said softly, but Victoria scoffed

“Pretty? It’s fucking cool! See,” she turned back to Y/n, “you are rock ‘n’ roll!”

Damiano stared at the little drawing on her leg, fascinated to have found yet another side to her he hadn’t seen coming. He wondered if she would let him tattoo her one day, letting him grab her leg, smoothing over the skin, putting that kind of trust in him. He was determined to find out, sooner or later.

“I mean... you think you’re the only ones with tattoos?” Y/n smirked, almost in a cocky way. It was a good look on her. “That one hurt like a bitch-”

“That one?” Damiano threw in. “Does that mean there’s more?”

Looking over at him, she simply smiled, shaking her head. “Anyway, it’s late, we should be going to bed soon. I know - I’m not trying to parent you, but somebody’s gotta be responsible here!” She stood up, fixing her trousers, putting her shoes back on, and grabbing towels to pass around. “Come on, out of the pool. Comply and I will get you something special with your coffee tomorrow!”

***

After everyone had retired to their rooms, Victoria decided she needed another talk. Moving along the hotel corridor, she stopped in front of Damiano’s door, softly knocking. He opened hastily, his face dropping ever so slightly as he saw her.

“Not who you were expecting?” She asked with a smirk as she pushed past him into the room. She was glad they’d all gotten their own rooms for the night and didn’t have to share - no need to involve Ethan or Thomas in the little conversation she was aiming to have with Damiano. Victoria dropped down onto the bed, kicking her shoes off and getting comfortable, as the singer followed.

“What can I do for you?” Damiano asked, shutting the door behind her.

“How about explaining why you were all over Y/n in the pool?” A grin spread on her face. She knew she’d have to be much less careful with Damiano than she had been in the conversation with Y/n, but still needed him to know this was good-natured teasing. “Pretty touchy, if you ask me.”

“Well, we were talking. Don’t need to tell you everything I do.” He flopped onto the bed, grabbing a pillow to smother his face into. “Why?”

“Yes you do, I’m one of your best friends!” She didn’t hesitate in grabbing the second pillow to whack him over the head, before putting it back behind herself to lean against. “Just interested to know what you think of her. You know, because I’m your friend and I care. And I’m nosey, so spill.”

He started groaning into the pillow.

“If I told you I think I like her, would you shut up about it?” He turned his head to the side to look at the blonde. “I don’t know, Vic, she walked into our lives and…” His eyes grew distant as he thought about her.

“Wait, you actually like like her? I was thinking you were just attracted, you know the thrill of the chase and all that. Fuck, Damiano!” Her smile came back tenfold. “I love this!”

He shot up from his lying position. “No! No, you don’t love this! I don’t love this! I have no fucking clue what I’m doing! She is so sweet and kind and sensitive and I can’t stop thinking about her, it’s turning me into a brain-dead zombie. I could never actually win her over, I fuck up so much and- … I talk too much don’t I?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so flustered!” Victoria remarked in amazement. “You’re actually, properly, crushing on her! You should tell her.” She almost added if only for my amusement but decided against it. This was obviously tormenting him already, no need for her to rub it in.

“I’m not gonna tell her shit! She’s our assistant, for god’s sake. I already could be in so much trouble if she took something I said wrong. I could fall flat on my face and- … Vic, I know that you care and you want me to be happy. Which I love and appreciate. We are best friends, we really are. I would do the same thing if you had a crush on someone, but I just don’t know what to do,” he moans, falling back onto the bed. “I haven’t been like this since school.”

Victoria patted his head in sympathy as he buried his face back into the pillow. She wasn’t quite sure what to advise him in this situation. Sure, she would love to see her friend happy. And there was definitely something cooking under the surface of Y/n’s feelings. And, honestly, the thought of the two of them together? She was basically swooning at the thought. But she also knew it wasn’t her place to meddle. Right?

“I don’t want to make her uncomfortable. I don’t wanna scare her away.” He looked at Victoria with pleading eyes. “Has she talked to you at all? Have you picked up anything from her? Any hints?”

A sigh escaped her lips, but she knew she couldn’t help but give him at least a little push in what she hoped was the right direction. “Look, Damiano. I’m not gonna pretend like I didn’t notice she fancies you. Honestly, no surprise there. But I think we both know she’s not exactly the type to jump right into bed with someone. So take it slow. Show her you care. Woo her.”

“Woo her?! Like an old Italiano romance? I can do that… I think. Okay, what does she like… Y/n, what does she- She doesn’t really talk about herself that much, does she..” Victoria could see the gears turning in his head. “This was so much easier when I wasn’t invested… Why do I have to be invested, Vic?”

He looked at her with dopey eyes, before jumping up and pacing around the room. “Argh! She is making me go insane! I tried writing lyrics, but nothing is working. I just can’t focus when she’s around. She gets this look, especially when talking about her work and language.. At the pool, did you see how she looked at me?”

“You’ve written lyrics?! Now, you really got it bad, my friend,” Victoria shook her head in amusement. “But yes, I did. I told you, she’s interested. Can’t tell you how deep that runs, I’ve only known her for a few days myself and she is working for us, no way to ignore that. So maybe take a step back until you figure this out?”

“Yeah, you’re right. She works for us. That’s… that’s a giant, neon ‘no’.” He stopped walking, looking out of the window. “I need to cool it, don’t I? We’re on tour. What am I doing! We have fans and people who are looking forward to seeing us. We have gigs to play! Fuck.” He sighed, staring off into the distance. “We should probably sleep. No long drive tomorrow, but lots of interviews, right?”

“Don’t get in over your head about this,” she put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. She hadn’t expected this kind of outburst when she had knocked on his door earlier. “It’s the first week of tour. You got three more of seeing her literally every day. Concentrate on the job, then on her, yeah? Now let’s get some sleep. And I mean it - no pondering and smoking all through the night, you gotta rest!”

“You’re right, I don’t know what I was thinking. Thank you.” He pulled Victoria into a hug. “Thank god you’re here. Wouldn’t know what to do. Goodnight.”

She gave him a little wave as she left his room, only just hearing him mumble, “I have music to perform…”

***

As the night grew to a close, Y/n found herself in her own room, snuggling into a pillow. Glad that the next day would leave less free time. Drive to Copenhagen. Get everyone settled it. Maneuver them from interview to interview, although this time around Victoria would be a great help since she knew Danish. Then off to soundcheck, light dinner, the gig, sleep. No time to get lost in silly daydreams for once.

Yet, as sleep slowly crept up on her, she couldn’t help one last thought entering her mind.

I wonder if he is thinking of me.

#maneskin fiction #damiano david fiction #damiano david imagine #damiano david x you #damiano david x reader #maneskin imagine #maneskin x you #fluff #maneskin x reader #mywriting #bethanysnow #quiet music

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lupiningwolves · 3 years

Text

You can’t die | Remus Lupin x fem!reader

summary: you have boggarts in your DADA lesson and are afraid of what will happen

warnings: mentions of death, mentions of food, angst, fluff

Y/A is your animagus

Y/M/N is your marauders name

—

„Good morning, Y/N.“ The sweet voice of your boyfriend filled your ears and made you turn around in the common room. As soon as you see his smile there is no other way than smile too. No matter what happens or when it happens, he has always a smile for you.

„Morning, Love“, you said and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

„I still can‘t believe Moony is the first one to have a girlfriend“, Sirius said from behind Remus.

„Well, I‘m still on Lily. Maybe you should just try to talk to a girl instead of snogging her and just leaving“, James retorts. You laughed a little at his comment and shook your head.

„Just because you ask Lily out on a date every week, doesn’t mean you really go“, you replied. „Anyway, want to get breakfast?“, you asked. Remus was the first one to move by grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the common room followed by the other marauders.

„How was your night?“, Remus asked you. You loved how caring he was. Before he met you and the other marauders in first year he didn’t really have anyone and felt alone. So he tried to make sure you were always alright.

„It was good, Rem. And yours? Prongs talking about Lily?“ You laughed but he furrowed his eyebrows together.

„He wants to write her a poem“, he whines. „A poem. And he needs my help with it.“ You just laughed and let go of his hand to open the door to the Great Hall. The tables were full of any kind of food you can possibly eat for breakfast; toast, bread, bread rolls, bacon, eggs of every kind and so much more.

As you take your seat next to Lily, she smiles at you. „Morning, Y/N“, she said.

„Good morning, Lils“, you replied with the same smile. „Are ready for the day? I must admit I am a bit afraid of DADA.“

James, who couldn’t take his eyes of Lily, now interacts in your conversation. „Why is that?“

You shrugged your shoulders a bit embarrassed. „I don‘t know. It‘s just the boggart.“

„We are doing that today?“, Marlene, who sits next to Lily, asked. You nodded you head. „Well, if you know your biggest fear you can prepare yourself.“

„That‘s the point“, you stated. „I don‘t know what it is.“ Sure, you were afraid of a few things. Maybe heights or the darkness, the upcoming war. But those aren‘t your biggest fears.

And then everyone started talking about their biggest fears. Remus and you were the only ones that stayed silent. You, because you didn’t know. Remus however, because if he told them it was full moon, people would ask questions.

In third year you found out he was a werewolf. His scars and monthly disappearances were suspicious but you never really cared. Until you learned about werewolfs and animagi in DADA and it just made so much sense.

So James, Sirius, Peter and you learned how to became animagi. James a stag, Sirius a dog, Peter a rat and you a Y/A.

„Oi, Y/M/N, Moony, you coming?“ Sirius question roughly pulled you out of your thoughts.

„What? - Yes, of course“, you said and turned then to Remus. „Are you ready, Love?“

„Sure.“ Together you made your way to your friends and walked to your first class, Transfiguration, the only class you were better than Lily.

~~~

Your last lesson was DADA. The whole day you’re were nervous and worried about what will happen. „It‘s going to be fine, Puppy“, Remus said. He was scared too but he noticed that you were panicking about it.

„Thank, Rem.“ He gave you a kiss on the forehead before entering the classroom.

The desks were moved to the side. In the middle of the room was a big, brown wardrobe. Everyone stood in front of it, curious about what will happen.

„Alright class, like said, you will be facing a boggart today“, your professor announced. „It will represent your biggest fear. The charm that repels a boggart is Riddikulus. But you also have to think of something funny so the fear can be replaced by amusement“, your professor said. „Now repeat after me. Riddikulus.“

„Riddikulus.“

„Brilliant. Get in a line so we can start.“ The first one was a Ravenclaw boy you never really talked to. You were behind Marlene followed by the other marauders.

The wardrobe flew open and the boggart took form as a snake, a dragon, darkness, heights and so many other things until it was your turn. Marlene gave you a last smile before stepping to the side.

You took a step forward and watched as the boggart switched his shape. Eventually, Remus was in front of you.

You were scared of Remus? How could that be? Some people started mumbling something then the room fell silent.

Remus wasn’t alive anymore. His eyes slowly closed and he fell to the ground. „Remus“, you whispered with tears in your eyes. „No. No! NO!“ Someone grabbed you from behind and pulled you away from the boggart, which your professor put back into the wardrobe.

„Class dismissed“, he announced.

„Shh, Darling. It‘s okay, I‘m here.“ Remus voice echoed in your ears. He pulled you into his arms and held you tight.

„You were dead“, you sobbed into his chest. „You can’t die. Please, don’t leave me.“

He slowly stroke your head and gave you a kiss on the forehead. „I’m here, my love. I‘m not leaving. Never.“ He let you go and wiped your tears away. Then he pulled out chocolate from his cloak and gave it to you. „Come on, we‘re going to my dorm, okay?“ You nodded while unwrapping the paper.

When the two of you were back in his dorm, James, Sirius and Peter had a lively conversation about what just happened to you. When they saw you and Remus entering the room they immediately shut up.

„Are you okay, Y/N?“, James asked. The three boys looked hopefully up to you.

„Yes, I‘m fine.“ Remus nodded to the door as a sign for them to leave. They smiled and left without saying a word.

Remus grabbed a sweater from his wardrobe and gave it to you. In the bathroom you changed into it. When you came back to him, he already laid in bed with a lot of chocolate around him.

You forced yourself to a smile and laid down next to him. He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into his chest. „It’s okay, darling. I got you.“

„You can’t die“, you mumbled. Your hands were buried in his sweater as an attempt to hold him and never met him leave.

„I won’t. I promise. I won’t leave you.“

He stroke your hair and just hold you in his arms. Soon you were so exhausted that you closed your eyes. „I love you to the moon and back“, you said.

„I love you to the sun and back“, he replied.

#remus lupin #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin angst #marauders #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x reader fluff #x reader #harry potter fluff

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dovveling · 3 years

Text

Lucio/Iolas - Wedding Proposal

(I really liked my long ass answer to the love ask about their proposal so i wanted to make it it’s own post that way y’all can ready it easier--)

The sun hung low in the sky as Lucio makes his way to the palace gardens. He has asked Iolas to meet him out by their favorite spot in the garden maze. the blonde smiles remembering how the two of them had found the hidden spot while goofing around and shoving each other into the hedges. It wasn't until one hard push sent Lucio through the hedge that he had found it. He fully expected to land on his ass but instead he found himself on the other side of a portal with Iolas calling for him from the other side.

Quickly Lucio ushered the other man through the portal and the two looked over a hidden meadow that seemed to be somewhere close to the center of the maze. Lucio could picture it perfectly; the stark white gazebo in the center, the perfect sun rays that sprinkled the fluffy grass and the willow tree with its small leaves that dripped and trickled. He fondly reminisced when the wind would blow and the tendrils of the willow would tickle up the wooden beams of the gazebo and scare Iolas into laughter every time the leaves would brush against his lover.

As Lucio draws closer to the portal he stops right before he enters and stares at the ring he had spent hours picking out. He had never fussed so much over a gift for someone. It was a first for him to worry about gift-giving, because anything he picked out was glamorous and simply perfect. This however wasn't just a gift.

It was a question.

Which meant it had to be perfect. Every time he would think he was close to choosing a ring he would look and see a flaw. A flaw that Iolas had the potential see. Which if he did meant the possibility of Lucio never getting to hear the answer he so desperately wants to the question He’s so nervous to ask.

So many times Lucio doubled back on himself about the proposal. Is this just too much? His mind would race. Could he see himself getting married again when his last marriage was such a failure? Then he would hear it. Iolas' laugh. Followed by the heart warming memories of the sunlight hitting the coffee skin of his lover. Afterwards every reservation burned away and was replaced with a deep desire to make this person his and only his.

Clinging to his new found confidence Lucio steels himself as he pockets the ring, almost dropping the bottle of champagne he forgets he was holding. As he pushes through the portal the blonde's heart skips a little at the sight of his lover resting on the side of the white gazebo. He’s wearing a white robe that Lucio had gotten commissioned to match his iconic white suit. The sight of it sets his heart running, he now knows the other dressed up just for him. As Lucio walks closer he can tell his lover seems to be lost in thought. He watched the other man’s crimson eyes gaze over the tree line, transfixed on something invisible as their thoughts dictate their face. It isn’t until Lucio steps closer and knocks on the wood with a playful tune that his lover acknowledges that the count has walked into the meadow. Lucio’s wolfish smile triggers a similar grin on his lover’s face.

"Hi, my Darling--" Iolas starts before pulling Lucio over by his collar to meet their lips together. With a giggle Iolas watches Lucio hop over the median of the gazebo instead of using the very close opening that's just a little be over to the side of them. Lucio tries to steady his face, but he can’t help that he’s excited. He doesn't want to come off too eager or nervous, but Lucio can tell his poker face failed as Iolas gives him a curious look. "What are you planning? I know that look."

Lucio however holds his hands up in defense after he places the bottle of champagne down on the railing in front of them. "Why do I always have to be up to something huh? Can't a man just meet his lover in a secret hole in the woods for some late-night drinking and maybe a little late-night macking?" the blonde throws the magician a wink, which is met with a playful smack that Lucio is all too found of.

"Did you bring glasses, Oh Count of Macking?" Iolas teases with a click of his tongue and to that Lucio's face freezes for a second. The easily distracted count did not think about the glass part of drinking, but his shock lasts for a split second before he nudges his lover with an elbow and a cheeky grin. "Can't you just magic something up for us--" Before Lucio can even finish Iolas throws his head back, his whole body shakes with a genuine laugh. One that Lucio only sees when Iolas reacts to his particular stupidity. "Absolutely not. I cannot manifest glassware, but fret not Lulu I prepared for this." The silver-haired man stands on the railing of the gazebo and reaches up behind one of the posts and brings down two champagne glasses. Lucio amused at this helps the shorter man down before taking both glasses and leaning down to give his lover a short kiss on the head.

Snickering to himself Lucio places the glasses down and pops open the champagne. "See? Who needs magic when you have a lover who has the spirit of a squirrel. Why are those even up there?" Iolas can't seem to hold back his laugher and starts into a long dialogue about how the last party they hosted he was tasked with disposing of all the drinks Lucio downed after getting into a drinking match with Julian. At some point he got too fed up hauling all the empty glass wear to and fro so he eventually gave up and used the portal which was much closer than the garbage. Soon as he finishes that story Lucio makes note that not only does he not remember this drinking contest at all, but he also notices that the whole upper layer of the Gazebo is littered with small drinking glasses of all shapes and sizes.

After the two of them laugh at the absurdity of the situation the couple dive into a comfortable speed of talking. Slowly they unravel the days events to each other, to which Lucio adds more flavor by introducing the drinks. The sun finally settles and the garden lights flicker on and thanks to all the glass wear in the gazebo small reflected lights scattered within their own space. Slowly the stories of their day dwindle and eventually, they huddle close to each other so they can look under the top of their gazebo and point out stars. Lucio watches the small warm lights bounce off his lover's face and his heart races. He can't chicken out now.

"Iolas." Lucio stops the silver-haired man mid-sentence as the other was going on about his zodiac sign and how it will be visible in the sky soon until he hears his name.

Iolas pauses fully, not use to hearing his full name exit his lover's lips unless it was during a more intimate and scandalous situation. So he hides his hesitation with a smile and he answers the blonde with the same tone he just used but exaggerated with a deeper tone to lighten the mood. "Lucio." The count starts to fidget but just laughs when Iolas mocks his serious tone. "No really, uh... Listen for a second." Iolas' face now turns from curious to worried. " Uh oh. that's a real serious tone. What did you do?" Lucio brushes him off, biting his lip and rubs the back of his neck. He feels so lame doing this, but that's the point.

Lucio stands up straight taking Iolas' hands, looking directly into those red eyes. For a second Lucio’s mind feels erased. It was as if looking into his lovers eyes reset every word he had planned out, but the ring sits heavy in his pocket. So he tried and opens his mouth only to close it so he can bring Iolas' cold fingers to his lips, unable to find his words just yet.

Iolas' however is completely taken aback. His lover has been romantic before but he was much more used to their back a forth of one-upping each other and superficial compliments they would glob onto each other. Their usual dynamic coupled with nightly flings where he ended up in the blonde's bed, made the sudden tenderness unsettling.

The magician could feel that dark feeling creep to his shoulders. The one that would say he shouldn't get his hopes up, that he's happy filling the count's time till he finds a real suitor. Even if Lucio was a temporary General at the palace he was still a completely different status then Iolas and Royals don't have court magician as suitors. So his hopes remained low but he was happy to bide his time with Lucio. However little it would be. Iolas had to admit even with the teasing and snarky remarks that sometimes get out of hand he loved and even craved the other man's company. Sadly, love doesn't change status. Love doesn't guarantee a happy ending. His a master when it comes to disappointment and had learned his lesson the hard way.

So It was the last thing Iolas' expected when the taller man pulls out the biggest ring the magician has ever seen and gets down on one knee. Iolas' first thought is to pinch himself so he can wake up. Then when air fills his lungs he realizes he’s awake and this is happening. More than happening, he's been silent for far too long. All he can hear is the stinging sound of his building anxiety attack banging around in his head. The buzz is deafening and He can see that Lucio is speaking but he can't hear him.

You will just disappoint him. Iolas' thoughts curse. Better yet he'll disappoint you. A shaky breath leaves him and all he can do is blink and look at Lucio with watery eyes. "I-- I'm sorry please can you say that again." Iolas stops and closes his eyes just so he doesn't have to look at the ring that's almost blinding with its meaning.

Lucio's normal wolfish grin falters but only returns once he hears Iolas speak. "I said. We should get hitched, ya know?" Lucio sputters, shit. "Look. Like I was saying we're surrounded by losers, Pet. Who else am I gonna get to match me other than you huh? come on, look at me—“ he gestures to his hair and outfit before continuing “Then look at you! we're perfect for each other.. ya know?" Lucio now looks nervous as he speaks. Unable to keep eye contact. “..and.. I love your laugh."

This seems to pull Iolas' from his anxiety a little even enough to get him to let out a weak laugh. "What? what does that have to do with anything?" Lucio pouts and glares at his lover just a tiny bit. "I love your laugh! and I don't want anyone else to have it. I deserve it, I get you to do it most and I think you owe me. So like.." Lucio ushers Iolas' to the ring, his legs are starting to buckle. "I wouldn't admit this to anyone else but my knees aren't what they use to be so can we--" Iolas stops him with a curt turn, his shoulders shaking.

The blonde stands at his lovers reaction his whole body rigid. This was it. The rejection he warned himself about. He's ruined everything, his heart screams to take it all back. Iolas is probably laughing at the proposal and Lucio's tacky way of offering himself. It isn't until the sound of a stuffy nose echo through the silent night that Lucio realizes his lover is crying and instantly he steps forward a different kind of fear gripping his heart. " W-wait-- wait, why are you crying? You never cry--" He falters and fidgets his hands around his lover unsure if he wants to be held or not.

Iolas turns finally, his red puffy eyes are turned down in a grimace as they glisten in the dim light. "Yeah, you idiot I never cry and look at what you made me do." His tone is harsh but it's followed by a sad shake that ruins any intention of anger. "Lucio I... I don't know how to do this." Lucio's heart slows but he's thrown for a loop and Iolas can sense his confusion and clears his throat as he wipes his leaking eyes. "No one has ever, wanted me like this before. I don't know if I can-- How do you know you want this? What if I disappoint you? What if you get tired of me and regret ever meeting me? At least if we keep things like before you can just get rid of me if I'm too much and I won't have to--" Lucio stops Iolas this time as he brings his lover close by pulling on his crossed arms.

"You won't have to worry about falling in love?" The blonde answers with his own sense of sadness, his eyes looking down at their feet before meeting with Iolas' who only nods in response. Lucio is a bit thankful that his lover didn't outright say no and is at least contemplating the idea of things. "I had the same thoughts and honestly I don't know how I'm sure. I just... am." Lucio's normal bravado comes back now that he feels more secure in the conversation. "I know that I love seeing you every day. I know that I love sleeping with you every night. I know that I don't want anyone else to hold you the way I hold you and I know that you feel the same way about me." At that the blonde swallows hoping he isn't wrong. "But mostly I know I don't ever want you to leave. If you were to go, do you know how fucking boring this place would be? I would set the parlor on fire within minutes of you being gone." The cheeky grin is back and Iolas snorts at the idea and manages a smile as he is now fully embraced by his lover.

Lucio rests his head on top the shorter man’s and hums, kissing the top of it. Slowly he pulls Iolas back so he can look down at him. "But it's not just about what I want... you kinda need to want those things too." Now it's Iolas turn to nervously look away and slowly as the shorter man's courage builds he tightens his grip on Lucio's jacket and more tears roll down his face as the realization comes crashing onto him that he'd do anything to be with the man in front of him. Before He can answer he shoves his face into Lucio's jacket rubbing his head back and forth on the soft fabric. "You moron-- Of course I want all that."

The blonde can't resist the urge to tease the other man however and laughs to himself. "I'm sorry, could you say that again I couldn't hear you from inside my jacket." Iolas hits the taller man's chest with a laugh before he goes to wipe his damp eyes yet again. "You know for a fact that I said YES-- urgh, gods look at what you did to my make up how the hell am I going to fix this now--" Iolas' whining is stopped short by his lover picking him up in a searing kiss that continues as the blonde twirls them both. With a firm grip on Iolas' waist Lucio looks up at the magician with a smile that could blind the gods. "I wanna hear you say it." Iolas rolls his eyes at that. With most of his face red as a beet, a large pout crosses the silver-haired man's lips. He kicks his legs from his newfound lifted position.

"I have zero idea what you're talking about--" Iolas protests but Lucio shakes his head. "Say it or you are never leaving this gazebo." Iolas is about to rebuttal but the look in Lucio's eyes is that yes he is serious. Iolas' expression softens, even if it's despite himself. "Of course I'll marry you, LuLu." Lucio whispers a soft ‘yes!’ Before he bounces in his spot and spins the both of them once again but this time continues to spin around the whole gazebo. The blonde’s laughing slowly raises to excited cackling as they spin. Iolas can only laugh back and struggle against the crazy man holding him. "Stop--! Lulu Stop! we're gonna--" but it's too late. Lucio's legs trip over themselves and with zero grace they both tumble onto the hardwood floor.

Iolas rolls onto his back and groans, dizzy and sore his eyes dart over to the man beside him who is just as dazed. Slowly Iolas entwines their hands with a smile and Lucio is about to kiss his lover's fingers before he remembers the ring. The blonde springs forward, getting up like the fall meant absolutely nothing. Iolas however takes his time sitting up as his lover fumbles to find the ring he dropped.

Soon as it's found Lucio slides over, the scraping sound of the taller man's pants on the hardwood makes the magician giggle. Iolas has to give the other man sheer points for his enthusiasm. Pompously Iolas sticks his left hand out, to which Lucio plays along and kisses the other man's ring finger dramatically before slipping the large ring onto Iolas' hand.

Carefully Iolas' holds his hand out to the light and observes the sheer size of the ring and can't help but grin. Lucio practically radiates waves of anticipation. His cheeks flushed from their recent spinning but his eyes sparkle and scream that they crave his lovers attention.

"Was this the biggest ring they had?" Iolas wiggles his fingers, acting as if he's unimpressed. Lucio simply feeds back into him. "How dare you." He sneers, pulling Iolas into his lap as he sits, unable to be on his knees any longer. "I had this one custom ordered. Not only is it the biggest ring in stores, but it's also the biggest wedding ring, period." He speaks into the shorter man's neck before he kisses it, The count's tone never faltering. The very idea of that sends Iolas into a giggle fit. He knows for a fact that this ring physically cannot be the biggest ring ever but another part of him can see Lucio putting up a fight with store owners about the pitiful size of their rings to the point where he just orders them to make him a whole new size.

"Of course, I knew my Lulu would only get me the best. He’s not capable of anything less." Lucio preens in the praise and Iolas strokes the back of his fingers against his lover's face. For a moment they stay like that, both of them processing what exactly just happened and what this means for their future. Iolas is the first to break the silence with a soft hum as he presses against Lucio's chest. "Thank you... Lucio." the taller man responds by nuzzling his nose into the shorter man's hair with a confused hum. "I never thought I could do this...” Iolas voice wavers but only slightly as he takes Lucios hand in his. The weight of the ring feels odd but strangely comforting. “... but for the first time, I'm not scared." Lucio smiles at that. and squeezes his lover in his arms.

"Good. We can be fearless together."

#lucio x mc #lucio x apprentice #count lucio #lucio the arcana #oc talk #Iolas Leolynn #my writing #if you got the time please lemme know how I did-- I'm not the best at editing so please excuse my errors!!#i'm dying to know what my other oc moots think tho pls lemme know

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collarious · 3 years

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lessons that i’ve learnt so far

I haven’t been on this space for a couple of years. Revisiting this space is like a step back into a part of my past self - the part that’s most anxious and depressed. When life got too difficult, I would leave traces of struggle in the form of words. Punching the ‘post’ button always felt so strange — it wasn’t cathartic, it never truly encapsulated what i felt, it didn’t exactly make things feel better — but at least those thoughts were out of the mind and contained in a space.

Recently, I’ve rediscovered this space, reread my entries and realised how far I’ve come through the years. I guess I want to summarise the things that I’ve learnt so far, in this journey of life and hope to continue practising. Excuse the shabbily typed out brain dump. 1. Be humble, learn about yourself + the world

The brain is extremely tricky and stubborn. More often or not, we probably don’t know ourselves as much as we think we do. We tell ourselves narratives of who we are, especially when life is hard and we’re not feeling good.

Know yourself, in and out, through objective means. Cross-reference like crazy using personality tests (Attachment styles, MBTI, enneagram etc), horoscopes, ask your friends what they think of you. Constantly question: who am I really?

Read and research repeatedly — read self-help + non fiction books / listen to talks + podcasts by renowned professionals that debunk your understanding of you and the world. I personally love watching Youtube vlogs of people I look up to - especially when I’m feeling down. The change in perspective is almost always refreshing.

From there, you can break the narratives that you tell yourself everyday. Knowledge is powerful, it keeps us humble and open.

This journey of self-discovery has no end. But that’s the fun of it, because we are always changing as time goes. We’ve got to understand ourselves because no one else will do it for us. Truly understanding ourselves really is the first step to knowing what works for our lives.

2. Acknowledge your shortcomings, but celebrate everything As we learn about our strengths and weaknesses, there comes a point when we have to accept our shortcomings. Accept, then take action to improve on the things that we can. There’s going to be so much inertia at times - some days feel fine while others make you feel like you’re back to zero.

Track your progress, celebrate the small wins. Encourage yourself constantly, be your biggest cheerleader.

3. Your feelings are not you. Feelings come and they go.

Feel. Do not push away your feelings, even though they are so intense & you feel like you want to disappear.

I find solace when I think of them as: 1) The sky. Yes, the weather changes, there are seasons. Rainy days, sunny days. But the blue sky can be there, at the core we are that beautiful calm sky. 2) The ocean. The waters are always different. Waves roll in as they roll out. Despite how the ocean behaves, you can’t help but think how beautiful and vast it is.

It’s so easy to attach yourself to intense feelings as they come, because you feel every ounce of it so deeply. The brain naturally attaches to painful feelings much easier than the good ones - its really our job to try to rewire its preference against negativity.

Fear, anxiety, sadness - they are real. But so is love, grit, resilience and all the wonderful emotions we have the pleasure to feel.

4. Take good care of yourself. Find healthy coping mechanisms.

You are your biggest asset – believe it with all your heart.

It can be really difficult — sometimes life feels so intense, there’s so much destructive energy, and a lot of times we take it out on ourselves if not on others. My question is — will you ever want the people you love to do the same thing, to suffer? No.

Instead of doing things that simply distract you, replace them with things that uplift you. There are things that are proven to work if you stick to them — journalling, working on what you love, exercising, meditating, hanging out with people who support you. Healthy coping mechanisms look different to everyone and they change over time - so find the things that help you feel better and hopeful about the future.

Taking care of yourself; no one is going to take that job and frankly, do we really want to pass that responsibility on to someone else? When we take care of ourselves, we then have the strength to tend towards those we love.

5. Set boundaries

Boundaries. If only they taught that in school.

Know your triggers. Set boundaries that protect you from your triggers. Communicate your boundaries, make sure to uphold them. Find people who respect your boundaries.

Yes, there are some people who will shit on your boundaries, gaslight you blabla. Do not give them the power to affect your reality. Distance yourself if you can. Cut toxic people out of your life. If you can’t, try to do what’s within your means to not let them take away your energy.

We have a limited amount of energy in a day. More when we are having a good day, less when we wake up to a bad one. Where you place this energy, is where you choose your focus. Focus on the good, always.

6. Learn to plan

Some people are natural planners, but others are not due to their personality or the environment that they grew up in. It took me so many years to understand the power of planning, even more to learn how to do it. I’m still learning every day.

When you’re someone with emotions that come so intensely, planning takes a whole lot of stress off for your future self. Having a plan can also feel like hope. When the mind is depressed, at least there’s a routine to follow. Learn to plan the way that works for you + your life. Kickstart this by learning how other people plan (Youtube, I love you so much) & tweak it to your liking.

So many days when I felt like doing absolutely nothing. But doing absolutely nothing will only make you feel even more shit and its just a downward spiral.

Do the easy shit first, feel good about the easy shit, then do a slightly harder task and another and another. Remember to congratulate yourself always, even if that task is ‘eating a proper meal’.

Oh yes, there are gonna be days when you can’t do anything even after planning .. when you absolutely can’t, don’t beat yourself up for it. Rest, recharge, try again.

7. Get up and learn

There’s going to be many bad days + failures. It’s life, we just got to accept that. But really what matters is getting up and learning from them. There’s always something positive to be learnt. A mistake not to be repeated. If your failures look similar, its life giving you the same lesson.

Getting up and learning is resilience, grit and humility. There’s nothing more romantic than this.

8. You are not alone. Seek help.

We can do a lot, but sometimes there comes a point when we are just struggling way too hard. Ask for help. Reach out. A friend. A lover. A therapist.

You’ll find love and support in ways that you can’t imagine, plus the strength to live again, fuller + brighter.

9. The Breathe

It truly blew my mind when I learnt about the power of breath through yoga and meditation. When the mind is going absolutely batshit insane, don’t think - just breathe. There’s no point adding fuel to the fire. Breathing and being present in the moment - it recentres, grounds and resets.

Learn about the breath and how it affects you + the world around you. Sometimes — when I stop to properly breathe, I feel connected to the universe again. It’s simple but endlessly interesting.

That’s all I can remember for now. May peace and joy be part of your every day.

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eazy-group · 10 months

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Quila lost 83 pounds

New Post has been published on https://eazydiet.net/quila-lost-83-pounds/

Quila lost 83 pounds

Transformation of the Day: Quila lost 83 pounds and reclaimed her health. At 25 years old, she faced several serious health challenges, including Fibromyalgia, Lupus, and two autoimmune diseases – Lupus and Sjogren’s syndrome. What kept her motivated? “My kids, God, and Dr Sebi.” She shares how she took action.

Social Media: Facebook: Quila Germany Instagram: @Divine_Healing_Coach TikTok: Transforminglupus/Divine Trinity Shop

I started my natural weight loss journey after I had my son in December 2018, but my weight journey didn’t begin until after March 2019. I tried to stay on a calorie deficit diet (1500 calories) or sometimes just count my calories to make sure I don’t go over 2000 calories a day.

I got this far by renewing my mind in Jesus Christ. – Nutrition 80%, Exercise 20%, and Prayer 100%. I’ve been beating all odds in the name of Jesus! And by his stripes, I am healed.

What was your motivation? My kids, God, and Dr Sebi. At the age of 25, I was diagnosed with two autoimmune diseases, Lupus and Sjogren’s syndrome. I was also diagnosed with Osteoarthritis, Fibromyalgia, Endometriosis, Ovarian Cyst Syndrome, Sciatica, Neuropathy, Chronic Pain, Chronic Fatigue, Sclerosis, Scoliosis, IBS, etc.

Going back and forth to the doctors was making me depressed. The medications were making me depressed, and I started to have a dependency on them.

I got tired of going to the doctors back and forth about high blood pressure, heart disease, and having to get injections in my joints. My joints were locking up and hurting very badly. I could barely hold or carry my baby. Being a single mother, I had no choice but to figure it out.

Now I don’t suffer from High Blood Pressure anymore. My pain level decreased, and I’ve learned to manage my symptoms without taking medications.

How did you change your eating habits? I started to get rid of everything unhealthy in my kitchen cabinets, refrigerator, under the bed, etc. I didn’t remove everything in one day but weekly. I would remove one thing at a time and replace it with fresh fruits, like watermelon, which helped a lot!

I started doing intermittent fasting for different reasons (physically, mentally, and spiritually). I also started eating a whole foods diet, eating fruits, vegetables, whole grains, and nuts. Then I began to remove pork, beef, and dairy products. (I just ate chicken and turkey the majority of the time.) I also used to make veggie omelets.

Then I started to take breaks away from meat by practicing intermittent fasting. In 2022 I removed all meat from my diet. I also stopped eating eggs. I just stuck it out with Salmon, fruits, veggies, whole grain, coffee, and smoothies with the natural herbal supplements I make.

Since I’ve changed my lifestyle, I have incorporated a variety of herbs and sea moss. I learned to make my own herbal supplements and elderberry syrup.

What is your workout routine? I practice yoga for exercise (not spirituality). I do it for low-impact exercise and to build strength. I only went to the gym for about two months in 2019. I lost my transportation, but that didn’t stop me. I bought an Air Elliptical Machine, Ab ProCircle, weights, and more equipment over time. In 2023 I started going to the gym for a little while since I lost most of my equipment when I moved.

How often did you work out? 2-3 times a week.

What was your starting weight? 205 pounds

What is your current weight? I got down to 122 pounds, and now I am around 127 pounds.

What is your height? 5’2″

How long did your transformation take? It took me less than 11 months to drop 83 pounds!

Is weight loss surgery part of your journey? No, it was not. Surgery was not an option for me because of Lupus. It could have caused me major problems.

What is the biggest lesson you’ve learned so far? If you mess up, don’t give up. Just start back over. Also, don’t listen to negative feedback.

What advice do you have for women who want to lose weight? Pray, surround yourself with great support, and join Facebook weight loss groups. Get away from toxic people, and always prepare your food before you go out.

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azurite-writes · 3 years

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Problem One: The Screen(s) and Digital Workspace

Part one of my multi-part doc about what I learned from doing online college at a non-online institution. This chapter: my Desktop as a Desk

Highlighted points: learning styles, work type/function in relation to the computer

My biggest problem with being pushed online after being at an in-person institution was, and still is, my forced reliance on the computer. I have to sit in front of it for hours: attending classes on Zoom; checking email every three hours; accessing Moodle pages for class and out-of-class work (Moodle is what my institution uses, other web management/e-learning software platforms include PowerLearning, Blackboard, and OU Campus, among others). And the work itself can be watching documentaries, watching seminars, accessing ebook/PDF documents, annotating documents in online portals… it's a lot. People have talked at length about "zoom fatigue," as well as the eyestrain headaches that can come with staring at said screens for hours at a time. I'll talk about my own lessons learned about that later.

The assumption among the administrators and (some) people of older generations than those currently in school seems to be that working online with computers and smartphones is more efficient. That isn't necessarily true; it all depends on the type of task and the person being expected to complete it. In my case, I cannot, for the life of me, focus on dense sections of text presented on a backlit screen. Thus, reading and answering emails is okay, but downloading scanned textbook pages to be read on a laptop screen (along with trying to highlight and annotate them) is hell on earth.

Why is this? Different reasons for different people, but in my case it's because reading/"writing" on a screen interferes with my learning style(s), which are visual/spatial, audio, and kinetic. Audio doesn't come into play for reading on a screen, but seeing words physically in a certain location relative to other words on a page is very important to my memory of the material. Computer screens can display pretty much anything at any given time; book pages can only display whatever was permanently printed onto them. That is, the content of a book page in physical space will always be the same unless you, the reader, manipulate it; a computer screen can have any type of content displayed as long as its pixels can light up and process the information. And for me, that's a problem because I don't have any physical space to relate the information to, plus I don't get a sense of how long the document is. Recalling a passage in a printout, for me, goes like this: "I remember it was on the top-left of a page towards the beginning, the shape of the paragraph was funny too… ah, there it is." Recalling a passage on a digital scan of the same document is much harder for me by contrast: literally any of the paragraphs could have made its way to the top-left of my computer screen, if I moved the window around or zoomed in to better read the text; documents are an endless scroll upward or downwards, with (maybe) a sidebar to tell me what page I've landed on. All of my "landmarks" are functions of the program I am using to access the document. They're static and contained to a window... that can show up anywhere on my computer screen. Not conducive to the way I learn at all.

My kinetic learning style comes into play with the computer, too. Annotating a document? In the physical world, a pen on the document itself does the trick; going through the physical movement of circling a word or making a note are things that solidify the information in my mind. Annotating a PDF document? First of all, it's difficult to do with a mouse (and God help you if you have a trackpad), and it's highly dependent on the program that the user selects to open the PDF. I could connect a drawing tablet, if I have one, but they're very expensive and their use is, again, dependent on the compatibility with whatever reader program the user selects. All this to say: annotating on the computer doesn't work for me, either. My kinetic and visual learning styles come together with note-taking. My memory is highly dependent on seeing words as they are formed by my own hand, processing them, and connecting meaning to them as they sit in a specific place on the page (am I over-explaining this? Basically, writing notes by hand and seeing where those notes are on a piece of paper help me remember them). Typing notes isn't a replacement for hand-writing notes for me; while I'm busy fixing my typos (on words I would never misspell on paper, usually, since my fingers are just moving weirdly over the keys), the professor moves on, and I'm not listening well enough to catch the fact that I've missed new information.

The takeaway here is figure out your individual types of work relate to being on the computer. As I said, the computer hinders many aspects of my learning when it comes to memory and efficiency. As a creative tool, however, it has almost the opposite effect; writing assignments for fiction, poetry, and screenwriting classes are much more efficient on the computer. From creative thought to keystroke, I have less time to second-guess or forget my ideas, and both the immediacy and changeability of word processing programs actually works in my favor for those sorts of things.

What I did differently from first online semester to second:

1) I figured out which materials helped me remember my notes the best. Honestly, I wasn't even doing this when I was at in-person college, and to my detriment, but I couldn't get away with it at all once I went fully remote. Think back to when you were in lower levels of school: were there certain types of materials you gravitated towards in the classroom? Did you like basic composition notebooks with faint blue lines? Wide-ruled or college-ruled paper? Did you discover that graph paper just worked really nicely with all notes besides math, or that blank pages were less busy for your eyes? When you used pens, did you prefer blue or black ink, or did colored ink help certain things stick? If you can control what materials you use to take notes with, consider using ones akin to those from a class you either a) remembered the most fondly or b) remembered the most information from. Scour your memories of class experiences for anything, no matter how small, that may have made your life easier. Equally, take note of what tasks actually worked well digitally. Adjust accordingly.

(Personally, I found my magic formula was a 1-subject memorandum notebook — marginless, with very narrow line rulings; while I hesitate to direct you to Amazon, they are hard to find at a decent price otherwise, and you can get a 12 pack for just over $40 from them — with black ink from a 0.38-size gel pen (I used a basic Pilot G2 pen until it ran out, then bought ink refills in the smaller size). To "highlight" my notes, I circled or underlined information with a blue gel pen of the same variety. Keep in mind again that I'm learning to be a translator; this is just what works for me.)

2) If I needed to print something out, I printed it out. Environmental guilt is something I struggled with a lot, and there was always something about staying on the computer that convinced me I was being "less wasteful" by staying digital. But with how much time and energy I ultimately saved reading a printed document that can be recycled vs the electricity I ate up spinning my wheels in front of the ebook… to me, it was worth it. If you find that helps you, too, don't be ashamed to print certain things out.

(If conserving ink and paper is a concern to you, it is possible in some viewing/editing apps to remove or cover images, either with white squares or by taking the images out completely. I have an old MacBook Pro and on current versions of Preview, one can draw shapes and fill them in white to cover parts of the scan that would eat up ink, such as blurred black borders and scanned images. For documents in a word processing program like Microsoft Word or Pages, it may also be possible to print the documents out at a smaller size, allowing more text or even multiple pages to show up on a single sheet of paper.)

| In the coming days/weeks I hope to be posting more content about how I tried to adapt to fully remote learning and the things I’ve learned along the way! Follow for updates ♥︎ |

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unmaskedagain · 5 years

Text

Five boys the Batfamily scared off (And the one boy who helped Marinette get revenge on them all)

This is actually based off a prompt/ask I got by #vixen-Uchiha

Okay, believe it or not, I’ve in history of all my days writing fanfiction (I just turned 27 and have been writing since I was sixteen); I started when Twilight was still at the height of its popularity. (All that work has been deleted, burned, and doused with holy water; don’t ask questions) But even with almost a decade of writing fanfiction, I never even considered approaching this fanfiction classic.

Until now.

Wish me luck. And don’t judge me too harshly.

Note this was also inspired by a poem I loved called To the Boys Who May One Day Date My Daughter by Jesse Parent

Marinette always knew Tom was her step-father. Sabine and he married when she was three after all. And while she considered the great cuddly bear to be her dad, she still had a great relationship with her actual father: Bruce Wayne. And all her brothers and Sister. She spent every summer with them and every other Christmas in Gotham. She loved her family. She just wished they take a chill pill.

And stop scaring away her freaking boyfriends.

Lê Chiến Kim: The Boy who swears Marinette’s related to the Boogieman

If anyone asked Marinette now if she would ever date Kim, she’d have died of laughter. Kim was like a goofy cousin. They were great friends. Their moms were best friends. She just didn’t see him like that.

However, it wouldn’t have been so funny to six-year-old Marinette who ran from school with a Daisy in her hair and a big smile her face.

“Daddy, Daddy,” She’d squeal to her Papa later that day. She barely noticed he was still wearing bat uniform, except the mask. Or all her brothers were with him.

“Hey Sunshine,” Bruce smiled lovingly at his youngest daughter. “You have a good day at school.”

“Give ‘em hell, firecracker,” Jason called from the background.

Tim and Dick laughed. Bruce just shook his head amused.

“I got a boyfriend!”

Silence.

That day would forever be known as the day all the smiles died. Seven-year-old Damian just blinked in confusion. He didn’t know what had happened but he knew it was bad. And that it involved his sister. Was she in danger? Did she need help?

Before Bruce could process or respond to his precious, baby girl, who was way too young to date (And what the hell was Sabine thinking?). Dick literally pushed him out of his chair like it was nothing. “What’s his name? Who are his parents? Where does he live? And where can I find him right now?”

Marinette, being too young didn’t notice the threat in her eldest brother’s voice and the look of murder in his eyes, had no problem telling Dick all about her best friend Kim, who was super nice, and gave her a Daisy, and kissed her cheek.

When the call ended, Bruce brought up the picture of the boy in question. A nice-enough looking boy to most, but he knew the truth. He knew the evil in his heart.

I have been waiting for you, Bruce thought, not just to Kim but to all the boys who would day date his daughter, since before she was even born. Before you took your first steps, I was preparing to make it so you’d never walk again.

However, Kim was still just a child. He needed a kinder touch. He looked back at his children: Dick, Jason, Cassandra, Tim, and Damian, and made his choice.

When Dick showed up to walk her to the school the next day, Marinette didn’t think to question how her brother got from Gotham to Paris so quick. (Cough, misuse of Zeta beam). Or why he was dressed in all black with a scary biker jacket on. She just shrugged and let him help her tie her shoes and carry her bright pink, hello kitty, and backpack.

He held her hand the entire way to school, where Kim and his dad were waiting by the doors. Kim had another daisy in his hand that he gave to Marinette.

“This is Dick,” Marinette introduced her brother. “My biggest brother. This is Kim, my boyfriend,” Kim preened. “Look, Dick, Kim got me another daisy.”

Dick beamed at his sweet little sister, “I see. Hey! Isn’t that you’re friend Rose? Why don’t you go show her?”

“Okay!” And she ran off.

As soon as she was gone, Dick’s smile quickly disappeared and he glared at the little Casanova, and his father, who felt like someone had just walked over his grave.

“My sister is a little young for a serious boyfriend,” Dick hissed. “Don’t you think? Don’t want her to grow up too fast, right?” The two could only nod in fear. “Good. Don’t hurt her. Don’t make her cry. Because I’d hate to have to have another talk with you, Chiến. It might not go as… nicely.” And with that, he left to go find his sister, leaving two terrified people in in wake.

That conversation would be the reason Kim broke up with Marinette over recess but to the girl’s dismay and why the boy wouldn’t allowed to date for another ten years.

Looking back Kim would swear darkness and shadows started to fill the schoolyard. That Marinette’s older brother’s voice got deeper and his eyes turned completely black. He had been a living nightmare, one that would haunt his dreams for years.

Marinette wouldn’t get another boyfriend for years.

Chat Noir aka Adrien Agreste; The Boy who just didn’t want to Get Neutered

Marinette never considered Adrien or Chat Noir her boyfriend. He had been her best friend, her partner, and for a long time, her crush. However, before Marinette found out who was behind the mask, and he earned the title of her best friend in the whole world.

Chat Noir had the title of Guy who can’t take a hint.

They had been just thirteen at the time. Chat had been spending for more and more time flirting with Ladybug and joking around then actually taking the fight seriously. And when he wouldn’t get the response he wanted from his Lady, he’d pout or throw a tantrum and storm off. It had been getting to be a real hassle. And as much as she liked Chat, she had been seriously considering Master Fu’s offer of getting her a permanent partner to replace him.

Then one day if all change. All the silly behavior, most of it anyway, and the constant flirting all stopped and never started back up. It would take Marinette months to find out why.

Unbeknownst to Marinette, her Papa, Bruce had been keeping a watchful eye on the deteriorating situation. The flirting, his daughter’s frustration, the lack of care. It had to be stopped. Chat Noir had a few lessons to learn.

Bruce glared harshly at the image of the cat-themed Superhero. He was proving to be a useless partner for Ladybug. And a prime example for a sexual harassment claim. “You’re sure you can handle this,” He asked son.

Damian scoffed, “I will teach that alley cat the true meaning of fear.”

“Go.”

When his son was gone and Bruce was once again alone in the Batcave, he smirked darkly at Chat Noir and all other boys who would come and go. “When you were still playing war in the school yard, I was perfecting headshots. You can’t catch up at this point.”

One night, after a particularly hazardous fight with an Akuma, Chat Noir had been running home when suddenly everything went dark.

He woke up, tied upside down, and gagged. For a few moments he thought Hawkmoth had finally gotten, wondered if this was the end.

When a sword pressed against his throat, and a chilling voice whispered in his ear, “Care to find out just how many lives you really have, fleabag?”

At the moment, Chat Noir no longer wondered if it was the end. He knew it was.

A boy, Robin, he realized glared fiercely at him.

“I should kill you,” Robin sneered. “I should rip you limb from limb and leave your head mounted on a spike to show the next fool who thought he was worthy of my sister’s hand. Ladybug is too good for the likes of scum like you.”

Chat Noir gulped. Sister? Ladybug was Robin’s sister. Adrien’s eyes widened, that meant Ladybug was Batman daughter. He was going to die. He was just going to disappear and his father, or most likely Nathalie, wouldn’t even notice until he failed to show up for his next appointment.

Gorilla would notice though, Adrien thought, he’d miss me.

Robin pressed the tip of the sword to Adrien’s face until blood was drawn. “You will cease your incessant flirting with my sister. You will train harder for your battles. And you never, ever, leave Ladybug to fight alone again. Am I clear?”

Adrien nodded his head earnestly. He’d never flirt with anyone again, he swore. He wouldn’t even celebrate Valentine’s Day. Or anything.

“And if for some miracle,” Robin hissed, “My sister deems you suitable to date, you will treat her will respect. You will never touch her without permission. And if you hurt her, Consider my genes a mark of Cain; you will suffer seven times whatever you do to her.”

Chat Noir whimpered.

A smoke bomb later. Chat Noir’s bonds were released and Robin was gone.

It took a long time for him to stop shaking.

He never flirted with Ladybug again. He worked harder and became the partner she deserved.

And when Adrien discovered Marinette was behind Ladybug’s mask, he only managed to stumble a little.

However, when Marinette told him that her brothers was coming for a visit; she couldn’t understand why he paled and stuttered out excuses for photoshoot he never mentioned before in far, far away countries. That same day, Adrien had his father taken them to Australia for vacation under the threat of Adrien dying his hair pink. He wouldn’t return for a month.

Jon Kent: The Boy who, in retrospect, really should’ve known better.

Marinette’s first real boyfriend was the son of her father’s best friend, Clark Kent, otherwise known as Superman. She had been only fourteen and it had been a summer romance while she stayed in Gotham. She had thought Jon was perfect; handsome, kind, funny…

Invulnerable to most weapons and had amazing healing factor.

Plus it’s not like her papa would kill the son of his best friend, right?

Right.

It had all been going great… until it wasn’t.

“I welcome you in my home,” Bruce hissed at the picture of Jon Kent on the bat computer. “I trained you. I trusted you. And you betrayed me.”

“Let me speak with him, father,” Damian demanded. “He is my friend. He will listen to me.”

Bruce shook his head, “That’s why I can’t send you. You’re too close to the situation. He snuck past all our defense. Now I have no choice but to do same. J?”

The Asian girl smirked, “Little Superboy will know dread.”

Jon had been visiting the fortress of Solitude when… it happened.

Before that day he had never dreamed the place would be anything less than safe, anything other than secure.

His dad had just flown off to help someone in Brazil. Jon waited patiently for him to come back while he dreamed of his beautiful new girlfriend. Marinette was amazing, perfect, and the nicest, sweetest girl ever.

When suddenly he felt a tickle in his throat, and he tried his best to clear it but it just got worse and worse. Until Jonathan Samuel Kent, Superboy (now that Connor was going as Krypton), fell to his knees as he struggled to breath.

No matter what he did, the more breaths he took, the worse he felt. It was like his lungs were on fire.

“Do not struggle,” A voice said. Jon looked up see Blackbat, Cassandra, standing above him. How did she get into the fortress? Not only could only a Kryptonian open the doors but only a member of El could be let in. It was impossible. “Struggling makes it worse.”

Jon coughed, “What?”

“The air,” Cassandra waved her hand around. “It is filled with dust. Green dust of Kryptonite. It has disable you and your powers. It’s concentrated. You will not die. The alerts of the fortress were disabled. No one is coming to help you, villain.”

Jon shook his head frantically. He wasn’t a villain. He wasn’t a bad guy. This had to be some mistake.

“No, not villain,” Cassandra corrected. “Not yet. A thief who thought he could earn my family’s trust and then steal away our most precious jewel; our princess. And do it without consequences. I am here to teach you better.”

Superboy flinched at her words.

“You will not pressure my sister,” Cassandra hissed. “You will be the gentleman we believed you to be. If you cheat on her, I will ensure you never have children. If you strike her, I will know. She will not keep your secret. You can’t make fire feel afraid. And I will come for you. Do you understand?”

Jon nodded, fear in clear in his eyes.

“Good.” She leaned forward, right into the young superhero’s face. “Some say you and your father, your cousin Kara, and Connor, are invincible. That you can’t be stopped. That you are gods among us.” She scoffed. “Let me make this, if you break my sisters’ heart, you will learn, boy of steel, that even gods bleed.”

And then she was gone, and with her all traces of kryptonite. It didn’t stop the chill that filled Jon to the core.

It was to no one’s surprise when Superman showed up at the Batcave not long after. “Bruce,” Clark asked with his arms out. “What the fuck?”

Marinette’s relationship soured when suddenly Jon was too scared to hold her hand, her be alone with her, or kiss her. She got the hint that he just wanted to be friends and broke it.

She found out a year later what really happened.

Luka Couffaine: The Boy who decided he didn’t want to sing his tune yet.

Luka had been Marinette’s first serious boyfriend. She was sixteen. They had been together for months and were getting to the ‘I love you’ stage.

He was cool. He was funny. He was a budding Rock star. He had dyed green hair, tattoos and earrings. Luka went onto tour with his band every summer. He was older than Marinette by two years. He had quite a few previous girlfriends. And he hadn’t been scared off by the normal attempts by his other kids.

In other words, he was Bruce Wayne’s worst nightmare.

And the nightmare got worse, when for the first time ever, Marinette was bringing a boyfriend home for Christmas. It was all the confirmation he needed that the things were serious.

It was why he knew he had to send the greatest soldier he had. Luka Couffaine would rue the day he decided it was good idea to ask his princess out. “Are you ready?”

Tim nodded. “I’ve done my research,” he declared. “I know what makes him to tick. I. Will. Break. Him.”

“Excellent,” He drawled out the word like it he tasting fine wine. Not caring at all that he sounded like a superman.

“You really think he’s a threat, dad?” Tim asked. “Because I can take care of it. I can have him eliminated. Ra's al ghul owes me a favor. It’ll look like an accident,” He promised. “It’ll look like he just… disappeared.”

A sense of pride filled Bruce. Tim was his most capable and resourceful soldier. He would make a great batman. Any of his kids would.

Batman stared the picture of the boy on his phone as he fought the urge to crush it in his hands. “No,” he finally answered. “I’ve known plenty of rock stars and so called bad boys in my day. Angel’s smart,” he said using Marinette’s codename. “I have been routing out indifference apathy from her life, her childhood was filled with love and affection. There are no daddy issue for his teenage talons to latch upon. Just… make sure he understands who he is dealing with.”

“Understood.” And then call ended.

He looked up and saw all the other Justice League members staring at him with expressions of awe, fear, and confusion.

“…Marinette’s got a new boyfriend, huh?” Diana asked when the call disconnected. Amusement in her tone, she knew Bruce would never seriously hurt a kid.

“Poor guy,” Barry said with a shake of his head.

Clark pinched his nose, “You can’t keep scaring guys away from her forever. Eventually, she’s going to find one who isn’t afraid of you.”

“And then she’ll marry him out of spite,” Dinah added.

There were snorts from the other league members.

“Like that’ll ever happen,” Oliver said with a shake of his head. “That kid would have to be the biggest moron in the universe. I’ll pity his family.”

Marinette had constantly warned Luka about how overprotective her family was. Luka hadn’t thought much of it. He dealt with overprotective fathers and brothers before. Eventually they grudging begin to like him. Or realize that if they actively hated him, it would just make the girl get attached.

He was excited for Christmas, excited to prove himself to the girl of his dreams, and impress her by dealing with her entire family. Luka didn’t understand why Adrien looked so afraid when he told him. Or why he asked what type of flowers he liked.

“For the funeral,” Adrien shrugged. “I need to know what to buy.”

Luka had laughed, thinking the blond was joking. He had already met a two of her brothers; Dick and Damian. They had been growls and threats but nothing he couldn’t handle. But Adrien didn’t laugh. He just shook his head and promised he’d be there for Juleka. Luka thought he was overreacting.

However, nothing. NOTHING. Could have prepared Luka for the first time he met Tim.

Luka had been walking home with Kagami, his long-time friend and one-time rival for Marinette’s affection. It was board daylight, there were tons of people around, and then they had made the apparent mistake of walking by an alley, when suddenly they were pulled into the back of a van, hoods thrown over their heads, and their hands bounds.

He didn’t know how much time had passed. Or where they were being taken. All he saw was darkness. All he felt was fear. Was this how died?

When the hoods were finally removed, the two teenagers found themselves in what looked to be a deserted warehouse, bound to their chairs, with a teenage boy not much older than they sitting across from them, looking absurdly comfortable given the situation.

My name is Timothy Drake-Wayne. I am Marinette’s older brother,” He said. “Let me make something clear before we begin. The last hour never happened. This conversation never happened. We never met. And if you say otherwise,” Tim’s eyes narrowed. “No one will believe you. I was just by dozens of witnesses in Mexico with my boyfriend less than two hours ago. But if you do tell anyone, there will be consequences. Do you understand?”

They nodded not daring to say a word.

“Luka, Luka, Luka.” Tim smiled an eerie grin that should look more at home on the monsters from Horror movies, and not on such a handsome face. “I hear you’ll be visiting us over the holidays. Must be so exciting for you, meeting your girlfriend’s family. Are you excited, Luka?”

Luka swallowed hard. He never thought he’d hate the way his own name sounded. “I was- I mean I am. I am.”

“Good,” Tim said. “I just wanted to offer you a bit of advice. So you can know to expect. You see it call all be a bit… daunting to newcomers. Some people don’t understand the Wayne family’s unique tastes. Okay?”

He nodded.

Tim still smiled. In fact he never lost his smile the entire time. Yet his eyes were empty like there was no real life in them. “When you first come to my home, you will see the bone carving over the doorway. It will be hard, but try not to imagine your own femurs so expertly carved.”

At this Kagami’s eyes widened. She had done her best to remain calm but somethings were too much.

Tim smile widened, “There are one or two rooms you will not be allowed in. However, accidents happen and we understand. But we do ask that you pay no attention to our… ample crawl space. Or the smells that can sometime come from it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Luka stuttered. “Sure, no problem. Man.”

“Try not to go into Father’s playroom,” Tim continued on. “It will be easy to spot. It’s mostly empty, apart from a rubber mat and a drain. He gets so testy when stranger go in there. You’ll hear strange noise from time to time but just ignore them. That is just father… playing.”

The green-haired boy just stared. Because what the fuck.

“Just follow that advice, and you should be fine,” Tim promised. “Though you are a pretty one. You both are. And we like pretty ones. Oh the things we do to pretty ones”

Luka whimpered. Kagami felt tears build in her eyes.

Tim laughed, “Now, now, none of that,” He said channeling his inner Brucie. “We’re not going to hurt. We’d never hurt Marinette’s friends.” He promised. “We would hurt people who hurt Marinette because people who hurt Marinette are not her friends.”

Red Robin looked over the two, “What I’m trying to say is. Break my sister’s heart, and we will kill you. I will kill you. You won’t see if coming. You won’t know we’re there. And if you’re lucky, you might not even feel it. Clear?” They nodded. “Excellent. Now you’re going to leave the same way you came. Remember not a word.” He smiled got even bigger.

They felt hands on their shoulders.

“Oh and Kagami,” Tim’s voice rang. “Should romantic feelings spring to life between you and Marinette again, just know our sister Cassandra is much scarier than I. And a much better shot.”

Then the black hoods and complete darkness came gain.

When they were finally let go, in the exact same place they had been taken, neither Luka nor Kagami spoke for what seemed like forever. Their minds still wrapping around what had just taken place. However, it was Kagami who finally broke the quiet.

“Well, it appears I dodge a bullet, huh,” She shrugged, her face not betraying the fear she still felt. “Sucks for you. I’m going to go propose to Chloe. I know can I take her mom in a fight. And that she’s not a serial killer.” Kagami then gave him a grave look. “Happy holiday, Luka. I’ll send best flowers to your funeral.” And the she was gone, literally fleeing down the crowded street, leaving Luka alone with his thoughts and sense of his impending doom.

He broke up with Marinette an hour later.

It would take weeks before he would willingly be in a room with her again.

Kaldur'ahm: The Boy who regretted ever walking on land.

Marinette had met her next boyfriend through her brother Tim. Ironic, considering she had just found out what he did to Luka. She had gone in for some extra training with the Black Canary when she spotted him. Kaldur; aqualad. Marinette had never talked too much with him before but found he was a very calm person and level-headed. A good leader, no matter how much Tim complained.

They had spared together one day. And another. And Another. Then he asked her out. It was sweet… While it lasted. And it didn’t last long.

Batman had looked at Kaldur’s picture, scoffed, and said, “Jason?”

The sound of a gun clocking was heard, “Little Mermaids going down.”

Unlike his brothers, Redhood had no time for mind games. He went for the quickest route.

Aquaman burst into room where the justice league meeting was, “He shot Kaldur,” He roared to Batman. “The Red Hood shot Aqualad!”

Bruce didn’t bat an eye, “Is he alive?”

“Yes,” The King of the seas said quickly. “But that’s not point.”

“Seems like it is,” Bruce said and went on with the meeting leaving a stuttering, red-faced Aquaman still standing there.

It was to one’s surprise when Kaldur dumped Marinette and was gone. Disappeared to the safety of Atlantis. And when he came back, Marinette was barred from Young Justice Headquarters.

It was on that day, that Marinette Dupain-Cheng-Wayne decided enough was enough.

Roy Harper-Queen: The Boy who should start making better life choices

It was weird to say but Marinette met the boy who would turn out to be the love of her life when she was ten-years-old. And then sometime after her eighteenth birthday, she would team up with his clone to go rescue him. They became friends, went on missions together. It was a year later that he asked her out.

Roy was pissed at the world, ready to die for anything if it meant he’d went fight, had a rude mouth, feared nothing and no one, and didn’t play by anyone’s rule but his own. In other words, he was perfect.

Marinette just never meant to fall in love. She certainly didn’t expect to say yes when proposed.

They had been keeping their relationship a secret from both their families for over two years. They were happy together. They loved each other.

But more importantly, they could plot revenge together.

And revenge was sweet.

It all played out during a Justice League meeting. Roy, Red Arrow, and Ladybug had been full members for quite some time. The meeting was just about to close, when Roy stood up, “I have an announcement to make,” He said. “Red Arrow will be withdrawing from missions for the perceivable future. As will Ladybug,” He looked at Marinette who nodded firmly.

“What’s going on, Roy?” Oliver asked his once wayward son, with a frown.

Batman eyed them suspiciously. As did the other members of the batfamily, all were present. Apart from Alfred because Marinette liked Alfred.

Wonder Woman frowned, “Are you going solo again, I thought you were happy.”

“We’re fine. We’re very happy,” Roy said slowly before taking a deep breath and doing the bravest thing he ever would in his entire life. “Ladybug’s pregnant and I’m the father.”

A few seconds passed before the words were processed in the Superheroes mind.

Bruce’s eyes widened, his mind stopped working, and then a snarl ripped form his throat as he moved to attack. The batkids joining him.

“Alpha Code Angelbug” Flash shouted.

That was all the other league need to go into defensive positions around Roy, against the batfamily. Marinette remained where she was with glee in her eyes. Superman stood in front of Roy, blocking him from view and potential danger.

The Flash, Cyborg, Black Canary, Wonder Woman, and the Green Arrow stood in front of them. Oliver aimed at arrow at Batman, “Don’t move!” He yelled. “Don’t you dare move, Bruce. I’ll do it. Roy’s my son. And I won’t let you hurt him.”

Batman growled, “He. I. My daughter!”

“Get Roy out of here, Superman,” Wonder Woman ordered. “We’ll hold him off but we can’t do it for long.” She stepped towards Bruce. “Marinette’s a grown woman. She makes her own choices.”

Dick shook his head, anger clear on his face, “Dude, you were my friend.”

Damian snarled, “Harper’s a sneak and a coward.”

“No honor,” Cassandra agreed.

Jason just looked at his best friend, “I love you…. But you’re dead.”

Tim just growled.

“No one’s dead or dying,” Marinette said as got up. “Because I’m not pregnant,” She said loudly, drawing everyone’s attention. She walked to her boyfriend and pulled him out from behind his shield. “But Roy and I have been dating for almost three years. And we’re getting married. You can be happy for us. Or I can never talk to you again.”

Roy grinned, “Pops,” he said to Oliver, whose face was torn between relief and fury at it was prank. “We thought you and Bruce could be the main wedding planners. With the rest of the Queens and Waynes helping out; you know now that we’re going to be family. ”

With that the two lovebird left the room, leaving the chaos they had created.

Silence filled the room as Batman and Green Arrow stared at the other.

Oliver gulped. He let out a breathy chuckle, “So I think a wedding in Star City would be great. Lots of Lilies. The Queen family loves lilies.”

Batman’s eyes narrowed, “Gotham, roses.”

Black Canary crossed her arms, “Star City would be safer.”

“Gotham is far more beautiful,” Tim snapped back.

And just like that, battle lines were drawn. Justice League members’ face turned weary.

Whether they knew it or not, that was Marinette and Roy’s last act of revenge.

Forget Batman vs Superman.

Try Bruce Wayne versus Oliver Queen: billionaire against billionaire, father against father. Elsewhere, thousands of journalist, photographers, florists, and caterers trembled and they didn’t know why.

#LadyArrow #Marienette Dupain Cheng #Marinette deserves better #batfamily #oliver queen #roy harper #Tim Drake #cassandra cain #dick grayson #damian wayne #jason todd #ml fic #ml salt #vixen-uchiha

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