#but so many things people complain about her are things she doesn’t control/decide and that drives me up the wall | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rinhaler · 5 months

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I’m begging and scratching at the walls for more plug!sukuna omg. I’ve been thinking about him at a party really clinging to a shy girl, trying to get her to “just take one hit you’ll like it” and something something he convinces her to sit on his lap and he lets her explore his body, slowly getting really worked up. Letting her have “control” until he loses it.

Once again this weeks dub has me by the NECK Ray chase ate and left no crumbs UNFFF I hope you like this! Scummy Sukuna my beloved 💖

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, dubcon, creampie, manipulation, vaginal sex, choking, degradation, smoking oui'd, coercion, slight oral fixation.

words: 2k

“Alone?” a voice asks, sitting beside you on the couch. You shuffle as much as you can to give him space, keeping your knees together as he decides to manspread and rest his arm around the back.

“No I’m with my—” you turn to look at Nobara before realising she’s attached her lips to someone else’s while you were disassociating. “Oh, well, kind of.” you shrug.

He smirks, leaning forward. “Good,” he tells you as he pulls some things out of his pocket and places them on the coffee table. It’s like a science, watching people roll blunts. You’ve never tried it and you’ve never wanted to, not when you’ve heard so many horror stories. But whenever you’ve been around to see someone roll, you’ve always been oddly captivated. “You look lost.”

“U-Um…” you huff, unsure of how to respond. “I don’t really like parties…” you sigh.

He nods, not saying anything else as he continues to finish rolling his joint. It’s quick and easy, like he does this all day everyday and has it perfected. You watch him light it, but look down at your lap when he leans back against the couch.

“Why not?” he wonders. “Too loud? Too many people?”

“Yeah…” you confess, feeling a little lame as you admit your true feelings.

You’re in the prime of your life and you’re complaining about being at a party. You wouldn’t mind as much if Nobara wasn’t occupied. But you don’t know anyone else here. Truthfully, you probably would have snuck home if he didn’t sit down to talk to you. You’d much rather be at home with some takeout food and a bingeable show.

Your heart sinks a little when he stands up. Have you really embarrassed yourself that much? So much so that you’ve bored him enough to leave. He walks away, turning to face you after taking a good amount of steps.

“Are you coming? Thought you didn’t like parties.” he speaks. He waits until you stand up, but carries on walking before you can catch up to him. You follow him through the house and up the stairs. It’s a lot quieter, though there are still muffles. Soft moans from one room and crying from another. “Sukuna. If you were wondering.” he introduces himself, not bothering to look at you as he does.

You tell him your name, and realise he’s brought you to a bedroom.

“Get comfy.” he instructs, he turns on a light, dimming it slowly when he sees your eyes screw shut from the brightness. The music still plays softly through the gaps of the door and into the room from the rest of the house. “Why’d you come here if you don’t like parties?”

“My friend… she wanted me to.”

“So you just do what people tell you to?” he asks, sitting beside you on the bed.

Your face fills with heat and your heart begins to race. You wiggle away from him slightly to keep some distance between you. He takes a drag of his blunt, looking up at the lights as he puffs a plume of smoke towards the ceiling.

“Not always.”

He doesn’t respond, instead, he holds the blunt out for you to try. You shake your head, though, declining immediately. Even with a few drinks in your system, you know better.

“Awe, no fun.” he chuckles, taking another drag. “C’mon. One hit, sweetheart.” he tells you, getting closer to you again and putting his arm around you. Your head drops, eyes finding where his hand rests on your hip before looking at the joint he’s holding right in front of you.

“I— I’ve never… I’ve never smoked before.” you admit.

“That’s cute. One puff won’t hurt, yeah?” he speaks, though you’re unsure if he’s trying to convince you or if he’s actually certain it won’t hurt. He smiles widely, it’s toothy and somewhat intimidating. He’s happy. He can see that you’re considering it. “Promise you’ll like it.”

You gulp, heartily, before wrapping your lips around the end of it. You’ve smoked cigarettes before, and you could only assume it would be similar.

Wrong.

You cough, sputter, gag from the invasion. He laughs at your expense, though he smooths a large palm up and down your back to soothe you. Your throat feels charred. It’s like the smoke has burnt holes throughout your oesophagus and the edges are scalding.

He gets up and walks towards a mini fridge you hadn’t noticed, tossing a bottle of water in your direction. And you drink it, quickly, the bottle crackling as you squeeze and drain it of every drop you can steal.

“S-Sorry,” you apologise, still coughing slightly. “That was embarrassing.”

“Yeah.” he agrees. “You really weren’t lying about it being your first time, hah?” he keeps going. Unfortunately for you, you don’t realise that he’s goading you. And it’s working.

You ask for another hit, out of principle. And of course, he smiles and hands it to you.

It gets easier, for sure. Soon enough, you’ve smoked the whole thing. He applauds you, impressed. But why does it make your ego swell? Your confidence soars, you don’t feel so shy anymore.

Not around him.

“C’mere,” he instructs, patting his thighs as an invitation. You look between his ruby red eyes and thick thighs as you decide whether you want to or not. You hesitate, a few times, before eventually standing up. He guides you down by your hips, your thighs straddling his while his hands dip beneath your skirt and thumbs stroke your skin soothingly.

Your eyes feel heavy, and he can’t help but smile when he sees how bloodshot they are. He can see how your eyes want to widen in shock. So utterly confused about how you got here.

He doesn’t give you a chance to think, though, not when his large hand cradles the crown of your head and pulls you towards himself. Your lips are caught together. It’s tame, to him. But to you it’s scandalous. A random hook up isn’t something you’ve ever done. You’re a long term relationship kind of girl.

But you can’t help yourself, now. His personality is magnetic, and his charm is captivating. You don’t want to disappoint him, for some reason. The thought of letting him down scares you. The idea of disobeying him makes your heart race.

That could just be the drugs, though.

You pull back, tracing your fingers over his body. A breathy gasp leaves you as he pulls off his vest, tossing it aside to reveal his chiselled body. Your cunt throbs as you feel how ripped he is. He’s the biggest man you’ve ever been with, like this, and he knows it too. He can tell by the look on your face.

The way you unashamedly squeeze his biceps. Two of your little hands aren’t even enough to wrap around the entire muscle.

He watches you, calmly, admiring how cute you look as you inspect every inch of his body.

“Having fun?” he asks, you give nothing but a dumb nod in response. His skin is smooth and you find yourself tracing a single finger over all of his tattoos. He guides you by your chin to look at him again, leaning forward to kiss you.

You reciprocate, allowing him to kiss you his way. He slips his tongue between the seam of your lips and two rough hands reach under your skirt and grab the fat of your ass. You wrap your legs around his back as he lifts you up, helping you back down so that your back is flat against the mattress.

He ruts his body against yours. And you can feel just how hard he is beneath his sweats. It’s huge, it feels huge. But you can barely focus as each dry humping of his hips stimulates your core.

“Fuck, need to fuck you,” he whispers against your ear and nibbling on the lobe. Your eyes roll back as he chokes you softly, and your own hips begin to buck as you search for more pleasure.

You’ve never felt so aroused before.

It’s like all of the blood is rushing to your core and pleading with you to stimulate yourself further. You need more. More. You wonder if anything will ever be enough, though.

“S’fucking cute, wan’ my cock bad, hah? Am I right?”

“F-Fuck me, please.” you whimper, screwing your eyes shut so that he can’t see how embarrassed you are.

He loosens his grip on your neck, moving it to cup your cheek instead. You instinctively open your mouth for him, and he lets out a soft laugh before pushing his thumb between your lips. He pulls down his sweatpants just enough to free his cock, eyes not leaving you for a second as you swirl your tongue around his thumb, bobbing and sucking all the while.

“I fucking knew it,” he speaks, “Always the quiet ones, always the dirtiest.”

You giggle a little, still suckling on his thumb like it was your sole purpose on this earth. He flips up your skirt to reveal a cute little g-string beneath.

“You don’t like parties? S’that why you came here dressed like a little whore?” he asks, pushing the material into the crease of your thigh. He lines his cock up with your entrance, slowly pushing in. “Sorry I didn’t prep ya, but you’re drenched anyway. Besides, a slut like you prob’ly doesn’t mind getting fucked like this.” he continues. He forces himself into you, ignoring the resistance until he’s snuggled inside.

He is huge.

The way your pussy splits open just to take the sheer girth of him makes you wonder if he’s even human. His cockhead nudges at your cervix, and every thrust he delivers hammers against it ruthlessly.

“H-Hurh…” you try to tell him that you’re hurting, but his thumb presses down on your thumb and it makes you gag. Though he slows down, knowing you were warning him. He isn’t a complete monster, after all. He’s a bit of a dick, sure, but he wants you to enjoy this, too.

His thrusts aren’t as deep anymore, sparing your poor cervix for the time being. The pain subsides and turns into something a lot more pleasant. So much so, that you can’t stop yourself from raking your nails across his back as he hits just the right spot inside of you with his enormous cock.

He pulls his thumb from your mouth, opting to squeeze the sides of your neck again instead. Your moans become lodged in your throat, and you can’t voice just how fucking perfect he feels inside of you. You’re close, so fucking close.

Though surprisingly, he cums first, loudly. Unable to withstand the blinding pleasure he feels as your tiny little cunt tightens around him. His body breaks out in a cold sweat as he moans, fucking his cum deeper and deeper into you. His restraint is lost, and he’s soon nudging against your cervix again, forcing every drop he can deep into your womb.

The warm feeling has your eyes crossing as you begin to spasm around him. He hisses, desperately, too overstimulated to keep quiet as your walls begin to hug his cock.

“You can stay the night, if you want.” Sukuna tells you, pulling himself out of your spent hole. He wipes his dick off on your inner thigh, though you barely register it as you think about what he said.

“Is this… Is this your house? Your party?”

“Little brother’s party. I live here, too.”

He doesn’t want you to get the wrong idea. You’re certainly a sweet girl, and you seem like the type to get attached. He has an ulterior motive in mind, though. Sure, maybe he’ll fuck you a few more times throughout the night. But he hopes you won’t be a fool and fall for him.

He has a goal for the following morning.

He wants to know how Yuuji’s girlfriend will react to seeing a girl leave his bedroom.

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evostar · 21 days

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All of the grandkids designs in caged souls au!!

First of Isabela, as you can see, she looks a lot like Alma and that is because Pedro forces her to look like her. Every morning he checks her outfit and if it’s just a little off he makes sure that she fixes it. Isabela doesn’t enjoy having her hair in braids the whole time (it also causes a lot hair loss + stress. Which makes her worried.) She doesn’t have a problem with her outfit, maybe the colors but besides that it’s comfortable to say the least. The bracelets on her arms are weight bracelets, Pedro makes her wear them so “she wouldn’t lose any strength” and often as punishments her weight can get heavier. (It’s magic connected bracelets that he controls.) It bruises the skin underneath a lot too. The bag is one of her touches, luckily she convinced Pedro to own a bag like that, when she first bought it was just plain till she decorated it later on (also with mirabel).

She often feels very wrong for wearing similar stuff her dead grandmother wore or the exact bow she wore. Something pedro kept after the dead of Alma, he gifted them to her on her 10th birthday. Isabela also doesn’t work out and that’s the reason for not having massive muscles like Luisa, her strength simple just comes from the magic. (But she still is pretty strong without her gift ofc)

Dolores’s outfit is rather more detailed, Pedro wanted her outfit to shine more because of her gift. He also did it on purpose cause he noticed that she was a shy kid so he decided the outfit would draw attention and get the shyness off of her. Dolores likes the outfit but she dislikes the attention it drags, she wears a plain shawl often just so she wouldn’t feel like all eyes are on her, it’s also comfortable. She loves the design of her headband but hates how it always slips or doesn’t keep the hair from her face. The clothing on her waist is the shawl, just plain red, she wears it so she can cover herself any time she wants and because it adds a nice touch at least so that Pedro wouldn’t notice anything.

She wears gloves because she started to fear the touch of people. Some of her family members she still finds normal to touch but she hates the feeling anytime she needs to touch so many people just because of her gift. A baby, a hug, holding someone’s hand, anything. She forgets how her hands look like often, (it changes between the color, shapes, sizes etc. of how many dead people she had been everytime she just stares at her hands without gloves.) so the gloves are very important to her.

Luisa has a simple design, she still likes to work out in this au. She finds it relaxing and it has a special need. Her hair isn’t that long so she puts it in a pony tail. She didn’t know what to do with her outfit because she didn’t have any ideas or a gift. Pedro neither knew so he just decided to make her outfit plain. The colors at the dress, the patterns and the choker was her touch, it was the least she can do. She got the red ribbon from mirabel when she was young and she never wears anything else since then.

She’s the only one with long sleeves because she’s insecure about her muscles, she does like the feeling of being strong but Pedro often scolds her for trying to take Isabela’s place or not looking ladylike, the sleeves are a nice cover for her so she never ever rolls them up.

Camilo is the one that stands out the most of the grandkids, not that he complains!! He doesn’t like his short hair since it tickles his neck and it makes him feel uncomfortable. He always gets jealous of Dolores’s hair styles and length but everytime he just gets over a bit of his ear Pedro makes sure to cut it. His ruana has a lot of details that he had designed with mirabel when they were little. (Now the ruana makes him feel a bit uneasy but the comfort of the warm feeling never felt.) He likes the color, and the length so it’s pretty comfortable. What he does not like though is his scarf and the little things at the end of the ruana. The scarfs feels too tight often on his neck and the little things are very annoying. He does get a lot of attention from his outfit and sometimes he loves it but the other times he finds it annoying.

He also hates his pants, he would never wear short pants (it exposes his skinny body more which he is very insecure about.) not only that but he hates the cold feeling. At least his shoes are okay.

Mirabel too has a detailed outfit, she loves the unique flowers at her dress. Her top is more plain but it still looks nice, her choker is based on Alma’s color. Just like how her bracelets are based on Luisa, Camilo, Antonio, Dolores and how her earrings are based on Isabela. Her glasses were a gift from her father, she loves the little butterfly and flower! (Julieta added it!) her outfit is very comfortable which she loves. She has a ribbon that she got from Dolores on her 5th birthday, it makes her feel better often. Her favorite part of her outfit though is the little sewing she did on her dress. Because that was her first actually project after she finished her whole practices, she couldn’t be more thankful to Isabela. (Isabela did the butterfly as a little add and because it was too difficult for mirabel!)

Antonio has a not so shining outfit which he is thankful for. Pedro has decided to let Antonio decide and design his outfit for a change, which Antonio gladly did. He did everything to make it super comfortable, and then asked mirabel for help with the designs. The headband was dolore’s idea and his shoes were Luisa’s idea. He feels very warm and safe in his clothing mostly because he got to decide the clothing and because his family helped him :D Pedro does start to cut Antonio hair short too time to time which makes Antonio very sad because he loves his big Afro a lot.

That is all tbh, any questions or stuff y’all wanna add?

#encanto #ask me anything #dolores madrigal #luisa madrigal #camilo madrigal #mirabel madrigal #antonio madrigal #isabela madrigal #encanto caged souls au #encanto au #pedro madrigal #character design #lmaoo angsttt 🤌#encanto fanart #madrigal grandkids #my art

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autisticlancemcclain · 1 year

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Lance isn’t good at asking for help. Really, he never has been. He doesn’t like it. It makes him uncomfortable, having to look lesser than he already does. And, like, he’s not trying to say that in a macho, I’m-too-manly-to-be-vulnerable, bullshit way. Nor does he think that asking for help is, inherently, an admission of weakness. He’s always very happy when people come to him for help, and he would never in a million years think less of them for it.

But the rules are different for Lance, and that’s a fact.

For whatever reason, one he’s been unable to discern, people tend to immediately think the worst of him. Always. He’s always the slacker, the guy who can’t take anything seriously, the guy who fucks things up and needs instructions explained to him twice because he’s too stupid to understand the first time. He doesn’t fucking know why so many people think this of him. He’s a goofy guy, sure, but, like… so is Hunk. So is Coran. So is Marco, so is Lance’s abuela, so are dozens of people in his life. But for whatever reason, those people are allowed to be goofy and smart. Goofy and wise. Goofy and talented. Goofy and kind.

Not Lance. Lance is, for whatever reason, one-dimensional in everyone’s head.

And he knows he’s right. He fucking knows it. He remembers complaining about homework in the Garrison, and hearing Pidge make a comment about helping him in math because “that must be what you’re struggling with, right, dude?” Lance was top of his fucking math class. He was higher up than her. Lance is really fucking good at math. He didn’t and doesn’t need her fucking tutelage, and it pissed him off that she asked. That she assumed he did.

But he swallowed it down, and laughed, because he knew she wasn’t being malicious.

And, like, if that was it? Then this wouldn’t be a problem. Lance would be able to shrug it off and move on.

But that’s not it.

Take the Nyma incident, for example. The team brings that up, no word of a lie, every single day. Somehow someone finds a way to squeeze in a joke. And it’s not even just the jokes — there’s the underlying tension that everyone truly believes, in the back of their minds, that Lance can’t be fully trusted with his lion. Which is fucking ridiculous, because each and every person on the goddamn team has made a mistake that nearly cost them the goddamn war. Pidge trying to run away from Voltron in the first few days. Allura and Keith when they decided to run away, leaving the rest of the team defenseless. Hunk succumbing to the mind control and nearly fucking killing Lance on the mermaid planet. Every time Shiro has a PTSD episode, even though of course it’s not his fault. Of course Lance has fucked up. Drastically. But so has everyone else. How come it’s only him who’s the butt of the joke? How come he’s the reckless one, who can’t stay out of the pods? (Even though he won’t touch those fucking death traps unless he’s unconscious, so that’s not even true.) How come he’s the dumbest team member? How come he’s not allowed to help in strategy meetings? How come he gets singled out when Shiro and Allura are asking them to behave, even though Pidge and Hunk — and he’s counted — have caused three times as many diplomatic crises as he has?

How come he’s not allowed the same forgiveness as anyone else?

It frustrates him. But it’s been like this most of his life. In school he was the class clown, even though he really didn’t make jokes during lectures. (Not intentionally, at least. He asked a lot of questions that made people laugh, for whatever reason, but that was almost never his goal! People just weren’t very clear when they spoke!) He can remember having teachers offhandedly mention to his mother that he had ‘behavioural issues’, but were unable to provide examples when she pressed. They just assumed he did. He can remember getting singled out by every fucking officer at the Garrison as the reason the sims failed, even though it really wasn’t always true.

He’s not sure what it is about him that makes people think he’s so pathetic. But he’s sure as shit not going to make it worse for himself, so unless he’s completely, physically incapable of handling a problem on his own, he’s going to keep his mouth shut and head down.

He’s pretty good at that, too, even though no one would believe him. Take the pods, for example.

Lance fucking hates them.

He’s terrified of them. Like, actual, palm-sweat panic-attack terrified. Unfortunately, getting stuck in one fucked him up more than he realised. He can’t think of them without shuddering. So he did what he always does when he’s afraid: learnt every possible thing there is to know about them. He did it as a kid, when he was afraid of drowning. (His best friend, when he was five, got caught in a riptide and drowned right in front of him. He’d been terrified of the ocean, after. Made himself walk closer to it every day while learning every possible thing there was to know about it until he could live with the terror. Until he could even turn the terror into exhilaration, swimming as far out as he dared and staying under as long as his lungs could bare, just to feel his heart pound in his ears and his hind brain go haywire.)

He did it in space, after the pods tried to bury him alive.

He learned — from Coran and from the castle’s library — that the pods are not miracle workers. They cannot make something out of nothing anymore than they can reanimate the dead. The pods, really, are a sort of advanced coma. They can accelerate what healing the body can already do. They can even take cells and other parts of the body and make skin grafts, kill tumours, all sorts of things — but they can’t repair what no longer exists.

Lance, after the Rover explosion, lost two things.

First was almost the entirety of the skin of his back. Ripped to shreds, it was. His head, by some miracle, had remained largely unscathed — except for the concussion that went untreated for too long, that affected his brain in more ways than he was willing to admit, that made memory recall a lot harder than it used to be — and his jeans had done a pretty good job of protecting the backs of his legs.

But his thin t-shirt did nothing to protect his back. And there was only so much the pod could do.

Most of his back was one giant mess of scar tissue and skin grafts. And as scar tissues and skin grafts tend to do — they hurt.

They hurt a lot.

Nerve damage is a strange thing. Sometimes it makes entire parts of your body go numb. Unfortunately for Lance, it’s the opposite: regularly, and unpredictability, his back feels like it’s burning. Like he never left the explosion. Like he’s in a constant state of purgatory.

And for the first few weeks, Lance handled it. He grit his teeth and waved off the concerns of his teammates, assuring them with a wink and a grin that he’d healed up just as handsome as before. (Which, of course, was a lie for several reasons. Every time Lance caught a glance of himself in the mirror — of the writhing mass of revulsion that makes up the skin of his back — he wants to wipe his memory. Restart. Pretend it never happened, pretend he’s still pretty, still untouched by twistedness. But that’s nobody’s business but his own, so he holds his tongue.)

Day after day of the skin of his back feeling the constant, never-ending excruciating pain of cooking flesh, he gave in. Hunched in on himself, dragged himself to Coran’s room, and asked if there was something to be done.

Coran was horrified, of course. Baffled that Lance didn’t come to him sooner, that he swallowed down the agony and tried to deal with it himself. And he of course had a solution; a balm that would provide instant, long-lasting relief. But there was no permanent fix. No pill he could take, either. Every couple of weeks, he had no choice but to slump his way to Coran and have the man rub to ointment into his back, because he couldn’t reach himself.

It was humiliating, being so reliant on another person. Being so totally incapable of handling things himself, of being his own goddamn person. At least Coran was kind, was discreet — he knew without saying that this was not something to be shared with anyone else. He knew to help Lance as quickly as possible, so Lance could retreat to nurse his wounded pride in peace.

It was because of his wounded pride that made the second thing so difficult: along with the skin of his back, the explosion had stolen his hearing.

Not completely. He wasn’t completely deaf. But he was no Altean superhuman, and the delicate hairs in his ears that allowed his brain to pick up sound waves have shattered so close to the explosion. Broken. He’d taken some sort of magnifying device himself to assess the damage, the night he fell out of the healing pod, panicked because his fucking ears weren’t working and dreading what he would find: hundreds of little hairs, much smaller than they were supposed to be. Too small to hear words, to hear people speak.

He could of course still hear them speak. He could hear when people were speaking, still hear the tone and pitch of their voices and the way they crafted their sentences. But it felt like he was dozens of feet underwater, far away from everyone else, completely incapable of picking out individual words and phrases and lost on their meanings.

Luckily, he adapted.

He’s always been pretty good at reading lips. Since it’s always been hard for him to make any kind of eye contact, he tended to focus on people’s mouths when they spoke, and inadvertently picked up some skills as he grew up.

But lip reading isn’t very reliable. You can be the best in the world, and you’re still going to miss half of what people are saying.

Especially if, say, people are speaking your second language. Or an alien language you don’t even know, at least not fluently.

Luckily for Lance, he lives on a magical space castle that has magical space translators. He doesn’t know how they work — and, honestly, aside from Coran, doubts anyone else does either — but he knows that they translate the words of whomever’s speaking into the language easiest to understand for you. Before, he was hearing everyone else’s words in Spanglish — now, he was seeing them. Little close captions appeared above the heads of whomever was speaking. He looked a little odd, sure, constantly looking just above everyone, but holy shit, he did not care. So long as he could communicate, it did not fucking matter. (It was even easier when he was in his armour, and everyone’s words flashed along his visor, colour-coded and in order. He’s been remarkably more fond of training and missions since that explosion, fancy that.)

The biggest flaw to this system is that everyone else still has a communicative advantage over Lance, and they do not know it. They speak as they always have, often excitably and all over each other, and Lance can’t quite keep up. He’s never been a particularly fast reader, but even if he was, there’d always be a delay, a millisecond of processing that stretched just long enough that people looked at him strangely. And, of course, Lance could only read one thing at once. If two people were talking at the same time, or if they were trying to talk to him without looking at him, it was inevitable that Lance misses. Chunks of the conversation, inside jokes, and worst of all, instructions. He’s taken to asking people to write important things down for him, which does not help his reputation as resident dumbass.

All in all, it’s not a perfect solution. But it’s a solution, at least, and that’s something.

Except when magical space castles break down.

It turns out, you see, that space magic is not in fact space magic, but instead ridiculously advanced space technology. And if there’s one thing that technology can be universally relied upon to do, it’s break down.

Which does not bode well for Lance, currently.

He walks onto the bridge — late, of course, because the alarms are barely fucking alarms for him, they do not wake him up, so of course he shows up in his pajamas and for sure everyone thinks he’s a lazy piece of shit who can’t be assed to take anything seriously — to a lot of thinly veiled panic.

And to a lack of closed captions that he’s been heavily relying on for the better part of a year.

Based on the general air of panic, expressions of frustrated confusion between the Alteans and humans, and the lack of fucking captions, Lance can wary a guess as to what’s going on.

The translators are down.

And, obviously, that bodes a bit of a problem. Especially because they have a mission today, one they can’t afford to fuck up. (Not that they can ever afford to fuck up. No, Voltron needs to be perfect every time, because there are lives at stake, except Voltron is made of humans, so they fuck up all the time. It weighs on each of them. When Lance is feeling particularly masochistic, he wonders what’s going to happen when they snap under the pressure. When he snaps under the pressure.)

Lance stands to the sidelines, carefully watching what everyone else is saying and doing. Shiro and Allura attempt to converse for a while, with words and gestures, but it goes nowhere and they both give up. Pidge and Hunk are talking just fine, but they both look nervous, and they’re curled inwards towards each other enough that Lance can’t see what they’re saying. Coran is nowhere to be found, likely attempting to fix this mess, and Keith is — Keith is watching him.

Lance looks away. He cannot be under scrutiny. Not right now. Because… well.

You see, deaf people can’t be fighter pilots.

Period.

Commercial airlines are one thing, but fighter pilots require a lot of split-second decisions to be made after audio information, be they orders or the sound of your fucking aircraft going up in flames. If you can’t hear those sounds, can’t make those calls, you’re a liability to those around you.

Lance knows he’s being selfish. He knows it in every part of him, from the meat of his brain to the marrow of his bones. He know he is putting everyone at risk — putting himself at risk — by keeping quiet about his condition.

But he’s terrified.

Of course he’s replaceable. He’s a butt in a seat, basically. But unlike everyone else on the team, he is only a butt on a seat. He doesn’t bring anything else to the table, perhaps other than someone who can pick up the slack in the chore schedule when everyone else gets busy. He can’t hack through any computer known to man, can’t MacGuyver his way out of any situation with a screwdriver and sheer force of will, can’t offer piloting skills better than anyone else in the universe, can’t use his quintessence to open up wormholes. If he’s not a paladin, he’s useless.

And they don’t have enough resources to support useless people.

What are they going to do when they replace him? Keep him on the castle as a deadweight? Unlikely. Unbearable, too. Drop him off on a random planet and promise to pick him up when it’s all over? Too callous, even though it would be the best option. No one on the team would ever do that.

Drop him back on Earth? Alone? Knowing what’s out there, the danger Earth is in?

No. He couldn’t bear it.

Besides — he’s lasted this long. With captions, sure, and without them he can’t communicate at all or hear orders or get instructions or be a fucking paladin, but he’ll… manage.

They’ve already received their instructions for today’s mission. Lance already knows what he has to do, and it’s what he always does — provide support from a distance. Keep an eye on the team. Make sure no shots slip through.

(Sometimes, when he’s feeling grateful instead of masochistic, he thanks any higher power to every exist that he lost his hearing instead of his eyesight.)

Lance is startled from his thoughts by a heavy hand on his shoulder. He turns wide eyes to Shiro, looking at him carefully, assessing.

“You okay?”

Lance is used to those words. He gets them a lot. So that’s not hard to read.

“I’m fine,” he says, and he knows he’s too loud even before Shiro winces, because even his own broken ears heard that. “Um, just a little stressed. ‘Cause the translators are down, and all.”

Truly Lance does not need to read Shiro’s lips to guess what he is saying — we’re gonna be fine, we’ll get through this together, this is rough but we’re strong, et cetera, et cetera.

Fuck, Lance thinks, dread piling up his chest, if only you knew.

Shiro voices a few more short instructions to the team, Pidge haltingly trying to translate for Allura with her limited Altean — which, judging by their expressions, is going not so great — before clapping his hands and sending them to their hangars.

Lance squeezes his fists to hold back tears as he runs.

Fine. Fine. This is going to be fine. Magically, this time, things are going to go exactly to plan, and he’ll support as he always done and somehow there will be no issues, this time, and everything will be fine and the translators will get fixed and Lance will continue delaying the inevitable. It’s fine.

God, Lance is so fucking scared.

He settles into Blue, greeting her softly and getting her gentle affection in return. (It’s something, at least, that Blue knows who he is and loves him still, believes in him still. It gives him hope, even though he knows it’s foolish.)

And, shockingly, the first part of the mission goes…okay. It’s not great, obviously, because they’ve basically got no castle support, but Blue manages to make her own kind of captions on her dash so Lance gets a refresher of the plan and stays on the same page as everyone else.

It’s the infiltration part that’s so much harder.

He doesn’t have Blue’s captions on his helmet, so he’s going in completely blind — or, deaf, rather. The only thing he can really hear is his own laboured breathing, and he doesn’t know if it’s because he’s really that loud or because he knows he’s panicking, but it doesn’t really matter. He slinks through the shadows, carefully avoiding patrolling Galran soldiers. (Which, actually, is really fucking hard since he can’t hear them coming. In the first few weeks post-explosion, it was literally impossible. He was caught every time, and regularly blew stealth missions as he tried to cover himself and keep himself alive. He also didn’t know when he was being loud, back then, so regularly led himself straight into ambushes, which didn’t help the team’s trust in him to be able to handle his goddamn self. It took him months of secret training in the dead of night to learn to trust his intuition, to memorize patrolling schedules and anticipate when he has to make himself invisible. He is pretty good at it now, though, so at least something good has come from this mess.)

Finally he reaches boiler room tucked into a corner of a hallway, which he knows from experience and from memorizing layouts to Galran ships has an air vent that leads to the tiniest of alcoves near the ceiling of the bridge. He’s not sure what purpose this alcove is supposed to serve, but he knows it’s excellent for his purposes — remaining hidden and invisible so he can provide support while the rest of the team goes ham.

Even without the captions that tell him what everyone’s saying on the comms — and dear God, he hopes no one is talking to him, but that usually doesn’t happen because of his position anyway — he thinks he’s doing okay. This ship they’re infiltration is pretty run-of-the-mill: no fancy info or prisoners or even soldiers. Just regular. All he has to do is keep his eyes trained on the battle scene in front of him, muffled sounds of violence fading into the background, as he picks off soldier after soldier, drone after drone, to keep his friends safe.

And then a hand wraps around his mouth, and panic fills him up so quickly his vision actually whites out.

Lance has a lot of nightmares. It’s a rare night that he doesn’t. And most of them are reoccurring — a select few scenarios that he sees again and again, night after night, that wake him up sobbing, in a cold sweat. The worst is watching as Earth — as his family — is destroyed by the Galra. Next is any dream where one of his team members doesn’t make it. After that, though, is a dream that always scares him so bad he can never get back to sleep after. The thing about being a sniper is that Lance can’t pay attention to himself. At all. All of his attention needs to be on the people he’s protecting, so he can shoot straight and keep shooting. This means that he is not, in any way, shape, or form, watching his own six. And since he lost his hearing, he’s completely defenseless, up in his little alcove. He can’t hear if someone’s coming, can’t even hear if someone’s spotted him. He’s pretty confident in his little alcove, but there’s always a risk. Always that fear. Always that nightmare, reoccurring night after night.

And now that nightmare is coming true. The hand around his eyes slides down his face until it’s wrapped around his throat, squeezing tightly. Lance doesn’t have even half a second to react, staring in mute horror as the Galran soldier — a commander, judging by the symbol on his chest plate — sneers at him, saying something that Lance can’t even hear, lips moving around words that he doesn’t know.

Finally, he recognises three: “Vrepit Sa, Paladin.”

And then he’s dropping to the floor, three stories down, limbs crumpling on impact and vision doing dark.

———

Right before the door of the pod opens, there’s a second of clarity. A millisecond in between when you regain consciousness and the glass clears.

That second always makes Lance panic.

But then he’s tipping forward into strong arms, familiar arms, and a familiar face and headband, and Hunk is saying, “Can you hear me, buddy?” because that’s the first thing anyone says when you come out of a pod and there are still no captions and Lance bursts into tears.

The whole team is gathered. Everyone sees. Everyone watches as he pushes Hunk away, ashamed, and covers his face in his hands and sobs.

“No,” he whispers, in between great heaving breaths so sharp they hurt his lungs. “No, I can’t hear anything.”

He’s not sure how long he stands there, shoulders hunched in on himself, tears and snot streaming down his face and dropping down his chin, arms wrapped tightly around his torso in a desperate attempt to keep himself from falling apart.

He’s not sure how long he stands there, falling to pieces in front of his team. He’s not sure into how many fragments he shatters, falling to the MedBay floor.

Eventually, though, his sobs peter out, because no matter how miserable you are and how stressed and how much you hate yourself there’s only so long you can cry. Only so long your rational brain can take a break and let your emotions run free before it says ‘alright, okay, that’s enough, dry up’.

By then, he realizes there’s a gloved hand on his shoulder, two warm bodies pressed on either side of him, one big and strong, one small and sharp. He feels the presence of three more people staring at him, sitting somewhere in front of him.

He takes a great shuddering breath and drops his hands from his face, forcing his eyes open.

Coran kneels in front of him, hand on his shoulders, eyebrows drawn in and expression deeply concerned. Pidge and Hunk sit on either side of him, pressed close, and Keith, Allura, and Shiro sit just behind Coran, looking at him with wide, confused eyes.

“What do mean, dear?” says Coran, or at least Lance thinks.

“I can’t hear. I’ve been deaf since the explosion.” His voice cracks as he says it, he feels the raspiness of his throat. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

He feels Pidge and Hunk exhale sharply next to him, and watches as Coran’s expression breaks.

“Oh, Lance,” he says, and apparently Lance can cry more.

But before he can cover his face, this time, Coran tugs him forward, tucking his face into his neck. He mutters something comforting, Lance is sure, even though he can’t hear it, but the vibrations from Coran’s chest are soothing enough that this round of tears doesn’t hurt so much.

This round doesn’t feel like he’s shattering into millions of tiny little glass shards. This round, someone — lots of someones — is holding him together.

———

Lance, it turns out, is a lot more damaged than he thought.

Apparently his head didn’t emerge as unscathed from the explosion as he thought. Apparently there was a lot more brain damage than expected, and apparently a lot of the parts of Lance’s brain that are supposed to secrete chemicals — namely, happy chemicals, chemicals that identify love and keep one’s mood and self-esteem from plummeting into the fucking dirt and refusing to come back up — don’t work right anymore.

Apparently, there’s a reason Lance feels like he’s unloveable, and that he’s useless, and that he’s disposable.

So. That would’ve been nice to know a year ago.

But that doesn’t matter. He didn’t know a year ago, but he knows now (after a long overdue MRI and brain scan that makes everyone on the castle so fucking guilty Lance can taste it, which should be uncomfortable but Lance is so desperately happy that his friends actually care about him enough to feel guilty that all he really feels is relief).

Now things are better. A lot better, in fact. He still needs to ask someone for help every couple weeks with his back — which has gotten a lot less shameful and humiliating, go figure — but Hunk and Pidge made him some truly groundbreaking hearing aids.

Yeah. He can hear again. It’s not perfect, and nowhere near what his ears used to be, but the first time he turned them on and heard actual words, in a sentence he could hear and understand, he went pretty hysterical.

It felt like when the flu finally breaks and you can breathe properly again, only magnified by a million.

The last thing to change is kind of a mix of several things. For starters, he has meds, now, that he takes every day to keep his brain working right. It was startling, a few weeks after taking his medication, to look in the mirror and for the first time in a year not wish he had died in that explosion. (He mentioned that offhandedly to Coran when the man was asking him how the medication was working, and was shocked to watch the Altean break down into sobs, apologising to Lance for not noticing.

Like, holy crow.)

Secondly, after everyone stopped walking on eggshells around him, they started being more careful with their words. Lance hasn’t heard a Nyma joke in months. He’s regularly asked for his input when they’re planning missions, hell, he’s asked for help all the time for things that aren’t chores! It’s amazing. He’s not sure if the team has always had faith in him and his brain just couldn’t see it, or if it’s new, but honestly? He doesn’t care.

He didn’t realise how fucking long he had been treading water until he was finally allowed to put his feet on the ground, and it’s relieving.

There’s nothing like discovering you were loved the whole time.

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aptericia · 2 months

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appie identity crisis hours

I’m starting to get the feeling that my roommate like. doesn’t really get the fact that I’m White. I remember one time I was eating a cheeseburger and she was like “wow I didn’t know you ate such American food lol” even though I’d only eaten meals with her a few times before that? And she often complains about “White people” as a group, which I don’t really mind (<- that’s a lie), but it seems a little weird to do that right in front of a White person. Plus last semester I made a lighthearted comment about being the only White person at H-Mart, to which she responded with “well it’s not that weird, you’re only half-White”…

I mean it’s fine with me if she doesn’t see me as White (<- also a lie), but the fact that it’s out of my control makes me a little sad. People talk about “you can be/do whatever you want forever” in terms of like gender and stuff, and as many parallels I like to draw between gender and race/culture, it’s really not the same. I don’t have the last word on my identity, I have to figure it out from what other people tell me I am. I don’t get to wake up one day and decide I’m 100% White or 100% Asian, and certainly not anything else.

I’m not saying I would want to do any of those things, I’m just… idk. The more comfortable I am with control over myself and my identity, the more sad I am about the parts of it that I can’t change. And it’s doubly confusing because race is made up of both appearance (a physical attribute) and culture (a psycological attribute), and the two are so closely linked that my psycological identity (which I am the authority on) ends up being influenced by a physical identity (that others are the authority on)

#ramblings #personal #race tag #aptericia's identity crisis tag

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youcouldmakealife · 1 year

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SOTM: David/Jake: proper preparation prevents poor performance

For the prompt: Jake's half year celebratory party thrown by David. With streamers!

This, like so many things that involve David, has spiralled out of control and sprung another part. It is his way.

It’s not that David doesn’t know what’s involved in birthday parties, it’s just —

David really hadn’t anticipated just how much is involved in a proper birthday celebration. Perhaps it should have been obvious, since it’s like any other event, but then, David doesn’t plan non-birthday events either.

He’s been to birthday parties, of course, but not in years. Celebrated plenty, but on the team birthdays involve cake ordered by someone if it happens to fall on a game day, perhaps a sign or two during warm-ups, ‘it’s your birthday, give me your stick’ instead of ‘it’s my birthday, give me your stick’, whatever catches a player’s attention. Questions from the media about whether this game is special, whether David wants a birthday goal, like he doesn’t want a goal every other game. David would honestly prefer his birthday wasn’t acknowledged at all, rather than mentioned by people who don’t even know him.

But he’s sure Jake would enjoy it more than him, but Jake doesn’t even have that. At least, he hasn’t since he hit the NHL level, Boxing Day one of the few guaranteed days off. David imagines it was chaotic at the Lourdes house when Jake was young, between Christmas, Jake’s birthday, and the fact that hockey tournaments always landed on the days after Christmas. All of Jake’s favourite things, all at once. David’s sure Jake never complained, would say there was nothing to complain about if asked. Knows that what sounds like a nightmare to David is often something Jake inexplicably enjoys.

But it’s one thing to decide that Jake should have a birthday party that he doesn’t have to share with another holiday — or half birthday party, he supposes — and it’s something else entirely to make it happen. Not the guest list — all he needed to do was tell Allie, and she assured him that she’d make sure everyone who mattered would show up, and that she’d be discreet.

Supplies were also not too hard, though it did get a little overwhelming, how many options there were. He’s perfectly capable of figuring out catering — and even if he wasn’t, Kiro promised he would walk him through it. He was teasing when he said it, but the sort of teasing that if David asked, he would do it, no questions asked. Probably with some more teasing, but that’s just Kiro’s default. David wouldn’t be surprised to hear Kiro cracked jokes in his sleep.

But it isn’t until David’s at the Lourdes’ lake house, surrounded by bags of decorations and party favours, some he brought from Washington, some he bought in Detroit, concerned he didn’t have enough, that he realises he doesn’t have the first idea how to put together all those disparate parts to create something festive.

Well, he knows the logistics — streamers get hung up, balloons get inflated, the ‘happy birthday’ banner gets hung. None of it is hard, even if he suspects some of it is meant to be done by two or more people. The banner will present a problem, but David’s smart. He can figure it out, and look things up if he has to. It’ll be fine.

David is dangerously close to flinging every single decoration out the window when he hears a car door shut, and all frustration is replaced by panic, because if Jake walks in the door right now, it will look more like an ineffectual robbery than a surprise party.

He jumps up at the knock on the door, though he’s relieved: Jake would never knock, especially considering he doesn’t expect David to be here right now. As far as Jake’s aware, David isn’t coming to Michigan for three more days.

Allie waves at the door’s camera when David checks it, then waves again when he opens the door, like she thinks he may not have seen her the first time.

“Thought you might need help,” Allie says, and David’s torn between offence that Allie just assumed he would need assistance, and relief, because he does need assistance. Rather desperately.

“What happened to the balloons?” Allie asks, after she follows him inside.

He hadn’t wanted to use helium, after reading about the inevitable shortage down the line — he knows one tank won’t make a difference, but he still doesn’t want to contribute — but once he started inflating the balloons himself he realised why people buy them. It is not, he thinks, just for the buoyancy. It takes awhile to inflate them, and they sag if they’re taped to the walls, cluster, looking deflated, on the floor if they aren’t. They look sad. There’s so much effort involved in something that ends up looking half-assed anyway.

“It was too hard to inflate them,” David mumbles, which is true, and doesn’t involve how poorly things went after they were inflated.

“David,” Allie says, starting to smile. “You’re a pro athlete. You’re like the epitome of strong lungs.”

“I felt ridiculous,” David admits.

“Well, I can’t fix that,” Allie says. “But I can look ridiculous with you.”

David would have thought it’d be worse, looking ridiculous in front of someone else as well as feeling ridiculous, but for some reason it’s easier. He doesn’t feel any less ridiculous, but at least it takes less time. And Allie’s better at arranging the balloons in a way that looks less depressing, more like the preparations for a party than the aftermath. But even improved, it looks — David didn’t want it to look like this. David wanted it to be better than this.

“This is silly,” David says. “This all looks — this is silly.”

“It looks festive,” Allie says.

“It looks like a kid’s birthday party,” David says, feeling utterly defeated.

“David,” Allie says. “Look at me.”

David looks away from the drooping balloons, the slightly off-centre streamers, the mediocrity of it all. Not even mediocrity. It doesn’t look at all like he wanted it to. It doesn’t look like David even tried.

“He’s going to be so psyched,” Allie says. “You know that, right? It could look like crap and he’d still be psyched because you did it.”

“So you’re saying it looks like crap,” David says.

“No,” Allie says.

David gives her a doubtful look.

“It looks like you did it yourself,” Allie says. “With your super athlete lungs and my incredible balance.”

Considering she fell off a ladder an hour ago, David does not think this is a compliment.

“He’s used to the Christmas tree still being up and eating leftovers for dinner, David,” Allie says. “He really doesn’t care.”

“I know,” David says. “I just wanted it to be — I don’t know.”

“Special?” Allie asks.

“I—” David says. “Yes.”

“And if I say it’s special because you did it you’re just going to give me that look again,” Allie says

David frowns at her, and she laughs.

“Yeah, that one,” she says. “But you know Jake would say the exact same thing.”

David does know that.

“And you know he’d mean it, right?” Allie asks.

He knows that too.

“And consider it practice,” Allie says. “Because you just gave our whole family an excuse to crash the lake house and drink beer and eat cake, so this is, one hundred percent, going to be an annual thing now.”

“It is?” David asks.

“Oh yeah,” Allie says.

David looks around at the work they’ve done, knows there’s still so much more to do. How apparently it’s going to be an annual task. He takes one breath, another.

“Do you know what everyone will want to eat?” he asks, and Allie’s mouth tips up like she’s maybe about to tease him, but that’s a price he’s willing to pay

“Come on, David,” Allie says. “We’re going to buy out the entire chip aisle.”

David follows Allie to her car, protesting that decision the entire way.

#fic snippet #SOTM #david chapman #jake lourdes #allie lourdes

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orphicpoieses · 9 months

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Writing Log

August 3, 2023

WIP: Project Rosary

Phase: Active Writing

Percentage: ~ 50%

Hello and welcome back to a new writing log.

I am slowly coming near the halfway mark in my Project Rosary Part 1. Even though life is stressful right now (exam season started in Germany two weeks ago), I am fairly consistent in writing every morning before studying.

Creating stories in these times is crucial for me. I immediately feel stressed, when I cannot write (especially if people tell me to not write during the exam phase!). It is like my little escape from everyday work.

But to be honest with you, I am currently a bit unmotivated. Not only because stuff currently happens within my family, but also because everything seems to be quite exhausting. So, what’s been new these days, is that I am trying to get anything down. A new Tumblr post, stuff for my project, new stuff… All of that.

Some of you have already seen that I came up with a new kinda fantasy story, that has no particular meaning, whatsoever.

It doesn’t have a name, beside the codename for Tumblr, so I can tag it: Project Unnamed. It is probably the shittiest story I have ever written. Not only because it is mainly pure Romantasy, which I normally don’t write, but also the fact, that I am writing some elven romance thing while complaining about how many elven or fae romance is out there? It’s kinda ironic.

To give you a little insight in the quick story (including some fancy banners I made for this):

It is about a somehow royal girl (I haven’t decided on that just yet), who lives in a world where magic is banned and seen as a wicked thing. One day, she gets in danger in the nearby woods, where a mysterious man saves her. Fascinated by his ethereal presence, she decides to find him again (which obviously works), where she finds out that he is able to control magic. He seems to come and go like a spirit and so she calls him the white spirit, also because he doesn’t tell her anything about him, besides the facts, that are obvious to her. She gets him to teach her about magic and soon enough, she finds out, that she can use the forbidden force too. They kinda have a secret relationship going on (with probably many red flags - I don’t know if he is a good or a bad guy). The drama comes from the secret relationship and when people find out about the elf in the forest.

I already know that this is going to be bad. I have no intention on publishing it. Maybe one day on Wattpad or as snippets here on Tumblr, but this is probably the most cliché Romantasy story you can come across. Even though I kinda like the characters…

But this is never going to any publisher in this world. It’s to bad for that.

If you are lucky enough to grasp an update on this story in form of a writing log, you are probably blessed. Project Unnamed is not even considered an active WIP.

But back to the original project, of which I am very proud of.

Project Rosary is still right before the half-time of the book, but I only have to finish the current scene and I am done. I like the pace in which things are falling together. Also, because I have the time to come up with solutions to plot holes in the storyline.

Now, as I am slowly coming to the end of one book of the series, I ask myself more, if I should wait until all seven books are done and then publish the first one. If people read the current book first, they will be (a little bit) spoilered for the rest. But if I publish the rest first, they get spoilered for the current book. It’s a bit of a challenge here, since everything connects to each other.

Luckily, I have until the final draft is done, to decide wether or not I publish now or later.

And that sums up, what’s new.

I hope, you enjoyed reading this writing log and if so, please consider to share it and subscribe to my Tag List, so that you get notified when I post.

See you soon and bye bye 💕

From the tag list: @ladyazulina

Other: @writeblrsupport

#orphicpoieses writing update #writing log #project rosary #project unnamed #writeblr #writing #creative writing #writers on tumblr #writerblr #writerscommunity #writerscorner #writersociety #writblr #literature

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lajulie24 · 3 months

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For the fic writer questions, 38 or 49?

Ty!

38. Did any of your fics get surprisingly popular (whatever that means to you)? Which ones? Why do you think they were so successful?

A few earlier ones that seemed to get pretty popular included:

Corellian Lilies - I think this is probably because some people really love themselves a Bespin baby AU, and that’s what this one is. It’s the first fic I posted on AO3 and it still gets new readers from time to time.

Epic Love - I don’t know if I was surprised that this got popular so much as pleased. I think the appeal here was more a different version of how things went down in the TFA-era universe, and fixing the things that so many of us didn’t like about how Han and Leia (and Luke!) were treated by the Disney canon narrative. With bonus Jaina Solo!

Sampler - This one I didn’t expect to get so popular, but it features Leia doing some subversive cross stitch and ended up in a collection of fics where Crafts in SPACE! are featured, so I think that attracted some folks who might not have otherwise read it.

Our stained glass means nothing without light - I was REALLY surprised when this one jumped up to become my second-most-kudosed fic ever. I think we can credit the Obi-Wan Kenobi show both for this fic happening at all (Leia meeting up with Obi-Wan’s Force Ghost shortly after the Battle of Endor) and for people responding so strongly to it. They love Leia, they love Obi-Wan, I totally get it.

One Half Won’t Do - When I started this one, I was at first worried that it was too similar to some of my previous pre-ESB era fics, but people LOVE themselves a bunch of tropes, particularly a “Han and Leia pretend to be married except they are having real feelings for each other” trope, so this one took off. And I thought it was going to be a one-off, but folks have followed me though several chapters, which was also a pleasant surprise.

A Girl in Trouble (Is a Temporary Thing) - Another fic that was supposed to be a one-off and grew lots of chapters and feelings along the way. I was pretty surprised about this one being so popular, too. It’s crack taken seriously (and it’s pretty wild crack, too…I was not expecting things to end up where we are). Another one where my readers have been very very patient (and I promise there will be more soon, and hopefully the wait will have been worth it). I’m not exactly sure how to explain the popularity except that 1) some people really love pregnancy fics and 2) I guess enough people trusted me to look past the extreme crackiness (ed: CRACK-iness, not crankiness) of the premise, and maybe folks were interested in something different?

49. What are you currently working on? Share a few lines if you’re up for it!

Working on a few different things — I think I recently shared things from the next chapter of One Half Won’t Do and A Girl in Trouble on my WIP asks, but I also recently started the very beginnings of another fic continuing the series of moments that started with See if you can work me the way you say and Another time, so I’ll share a bit of that.

“You don’t know everything about women.”

Han laughed softly. “Anyone thinks they know about ‘women’ doesn’t know shit.” His thumb resumed its gentle caress. “I know you, Leia.”

The way her name came out of his mouth was gentle, yet almost obscene.

“You like to be out of control, but you decide when.” His thumb was making wide circles on her palm. “How.” His lips curled up in a grin. “Who.”

“Whom,” she corrected, her eyes maintaining their gaze. His fingers paused.

“Whom,” he agreed. “Can’t say I’m complaining about that.”

His fingers resumed.

Thank you kindly for the ask!

Fanfic writer asks!

#ask lajulie #fanfic writer asks #fanfiction #surprisingly popular fics #corellian lilies #epic love #sampler #our stained glass means nothing without light #One Half Won’t Do #A Girl in Trouble (Is a Temporary Thing)#Xmas-pterodactyl #thank you for the ask!

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remmammie · 2 years

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May I have a sora x reader where sora feels sad and left out that his keyblade wielder crush that also lives on destiny islands with him Kairi and riku starts spending more time exploring other worlds rather than hanging out with him as often as they used to. So sora tells them one day how he feels about wanting to be closer to them more.

Writing on the college computers is so difficult…I really hope my laptop decides to start working again soon! For now, I’ve written some headcanons because there was no format specified! Enjoy!

Sora x Keyblade Wielder!Crush!Reader HCs

Sora’s never really one to admire from afar because of how excitable and social he is! He’s not afraid to strike up conversations with people he finds interesting and you are no exception. In fact, Sora’s even more interested in you because your a Keyblade wielder. How he came to figure this out is up to you, but I’m sure you were met with Sora’s shining blue eyes, completely enamoured by the Keyblade in your hands (which is recurring, he never tires of seeing your Keyblade.)

Instead of from afar, Sora will ask to train with you to see your movements up close, to have you teach him how to better control magic or hold his Keyblade to be closer to you, to play sports with you on the same team to admire your athleticism or strategic ability. Truly, Sora never tires of you, and he doesn’t think he ever will.

However, then came the news from whoever you decide to apprentice under or if you have passed a Mark of Mastery exam: you are now completely free to travel the worlds and face darkness alone. And Sora gets very excited to be allowed to go new places with you instead of being confined to the world you’ve been training in! Then, disappointedly, you tell him that you want to go alone the first few times to get a sense of independence with your Keyblade. You head off, leaving a deflated Sora in your wake.

And then Riku and Kairi never hear the end of it. “When are they coming back? How are they doing? We should go see how they’re doing! I should have gone with them to protect them from darkness!” Though his two friends adore him a lot, they eventually tire of Sora’s complaining and decided to speak to him with two very different approaches.

Kairi’s pretty direct. She tries to tell Sora to just be patient, reminding him that absence makes the heart grow fonder. She’s very teasing - as Kairi can be - pretty much outright telling Sora that her and Riku know Sora has a crush on their friend. And, at the beginning, Sora denied everything she said, just chalking you up to being a really good friend (mainly because Sora’s pretty clueless about what being “in love” actually means.) Eventually, though, after many lectures from Kairi, Sora does start to call you his crush and starts to link what Kairi says to things he’s been experiencing when he’s around you: the butterflies, the sweating, the non-stop smiling, the admiration, the dreaming, the picturing of your two’s future together, etcetera, etcetera. This concept makes Sora even more hyper and desperate to see you again, though, so Kairi pretty much failed. Bless her, she tried, but Sora’s just too attached.

Riku’s approach is a lot different. He can kind of recognise how attached Sora is to you already and decides that, if he wants to have a perfect relationship with you when you come back, Sora needs to chill out. Riku knows very well that getting too attached to anything is very dangerous and, as politely as he can, tells Sora what he needs to hear - not what he wants. He tells Sora that, by insisting that he should go and help you, he’s assuming you aren’t strong enough to handle yourself and that saying things like that might make you upset. Sora insists that isn’t what he meant and Riku agrees - he knows - but that he needs to be more careful. He advises that Sora just waits for you to get back to tell you anything lest he distract you from your mission. “It’s a sign that you trust them,” he says, “and trust is the most important thing in a relationship.”

So Sora waits. And waits. People note that he’s not as lively until you arrive back on Destiny Islands to see everyone. Of course, everyone happy to see you - and Sora is too! - but he’s the first to pull you aside for a real conversation.

He tells you about pretty much everything: what Riku said, how he felt when you were gone, and, last, what Kairi told him. It takes a lot of confidence for Sora to admit just how much he’s grown attached to you, how vulnerable you make him feel despite how strong his other friends make him feel - that’s really how he knew he was in love with you. Where other people made him feel strong and able to conquer any darkness (and you do too!,) you help him to let his guard down and remind him that, after everything, he’s still just a boy.

The following days are definitely filled with Sora smothering you after you were away for so long until (and if) you tell him to leave you alone. And lots of teasing from Kairi, don’t forget that too.

#kingdom hearts fanfiction #kingdom hearts sora #kh sora #kingdom hearts #kingdom hearts headcanons #kingdom hearts fanfic #kingdom hearts x reader #sora x reader

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melanielocke · 2 years

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Alastember - day 8 - fairy AU

I decided to change fairytale AU into a fairy AU and wrote a Winx Club AU. It's a show I watched a lot when I was younger and I figured it'd be fun to write a scene inspired by the show.

For those who didn't watch it, Winx Club follows a group of 6 (5 in season 1) fairies who attend Alfea, a school for fairies. In the same area is also Red Fountain school for specialists (boys who train with weapons and fly spaceships and ride hoverbikes) and Cloud Tower school for witches (who are mostly evil). I decided to make the schools less gendered because I see no reason why boys can't be fairies or witches.

The Trix are the main villains of Winx Club during most seasons, they're three witch sisters who want to take over the world and have as much magic as they can. Some seasons they team up with other villains.

This one shot is mostly inspired by season 3 of Winx Club where they're all getting their Enchantix, so a variation of the events of season 1 and 2 already happened. I also made some stuff up that's not in the original show.

@alastair-appreciation-month

It seemed like the conquering or destruction of one of the three magic schools of Magix had become a yearly occurrence, and Alastair was getting tired of it. The Trix, it turned out, were very stubborn and very insistent on doing the same things over and over again. Unfortunately, every time they came back to stir up trouble they’d found some new source of power to help them succeed. After the three witches had conquered Cloud Tower, Alastair had left with as many witches he could rescue, and now they were stuck in Alfea, school for fairies. Needless to say, it was a disaster.

Witches and fairies rarely got along, and he couldn’t even walk to the library without people throwing curses at each other in the hallway. Magic curses, that was, not the verbal kind. Then, the specialist school of Red Fountain had been attacked and nearly destroyed too and for the second time in three years, and their students were stuck at Alfea too. It was getting crowded here, and if there was anything Alastair disliked it was crowds of too many people.

It wasn’t just the amount of people here, it was the tension too. Sooner or later, Alfea would become a target and Alastair didn’t doubt the Trix and Tatiana would break through the protection spells when they wanted to. They would have to be ready. Unfortunately, not everyone seemed to be taking the crisis as serious. Matthew Fairchild was loudly complaining about the lack of fashion sense of the witches. Anna Lightwood, a specialist, had been flirting with as many of the female fairies and witches as she could find.

Alastair was disappointed by the lack of books on dark magic in the alfea library, but gathered a few he thought might be interesting and took them back to the rooms he was staying in. Most of the boys from Cloud Tower and Red Fountain were sleeping in the Alfea great hall, but since Alastair got overstimulated easily, his sister Cordelia had offered to let him stay in her room.

‘I miss the Cloud Tower library,’ Alastair announced when he dropped a pile of books onto Cordelia’s desk. ‘They have a much bigger selection.’

Cordelia rolled her eyes. ‘Now do you understand why I spent so much time breaking into Cloud Tower?’

‘I study at Cloud Tower. If you wanted any books from there, you could have just asked. You need to stop listening to Matthew Fairchild. Just because he’s the fairy of the sun doesn’t mean the world revolves around him.’

‘Okay, Matthew and Lucie aren’t great at decision making,’ Cordelia said.

‘At least Kamala keeps them somewhat under control,’ Alastair said. ‘So far it seems like she’s the only fairy with any sense.’

‘Professor Faragonda has sense,’ Cordelia said. ‘Christopher… Okay, no, not really. He’s really smart though.’

Christopher was the fairy of technology, and he was smart. What he lacked was the common sense to not try to burn down the school every other week. He was lucky Cordelia was the fairy of the eternal flame and could mitigate any fiery disaster he caused.

‘How’s your training going anyway?’ Alastair asked.

‘Decent. It would be much easier if I could just get my Enchantix,’ Cordelia said. ‘It’s frustrating how all my friends got it but me.’

Alastair wasn’t sure how he felt about the whole Enchantix concept. Last year, Cordelia and her fairy friends had all earned their Charmix by solving interpersonal problems, which enhanced their power. Cordelia had learnt to stand up to her friends and earned new powers. Charmix had a witch equivalent called Gloomix, but not many witches had one. Alastair had earned his after breaking up with Charles, whereas his friend Eugenia had earned hers after breaking up with Augustus Pounceby. It had been the right choice for them both, and earning new powers was nice.

Enchantix was different. Apparently there was a witch equivalent called Disenchantix, but no one really knew how to earn one. For fairies, Enchantix was earned through sacrifice and many young fairies would have died, had they not earned their new powers at that specific moment. Some died anyway. Matthew had rescued his father during an attack on the Sun Palace after Charles had abandoned them and ran, putting himself in a fight that would have killed him without his new powers.

Lucie had helped a group of specialists, including her brother, escape when Red Fountain was under attack and had almost died while doing it. Only Enchantix had saved her. She couldn’t have known that though.

Christopher had jumped into a cursed lake after his little brother Alexander when the Trix had pushed the toddler in.

And then Kamala had closed the omega gate, trapping herself on the other side. They had almost given up on her, assuming she must have died, had Eugenia not insisted that she was alive and that Thomas fly his spaceship to the Omega dimension to pick her up. They’d found her barely alive, only due to her Enchantix had she made it.

But why did it have to take such sacrifice? Alastair was intimately familiar with sacrifice. He’d sacrificed himself over and over again, to keep Cordelia safe, to take care of his father, who only hurled insults and empty bottles at him as a thanks. And he’d sacrificed so much for Charles when they’d been together. Sacrifice had never made him any stronger.

Alastair wanted Cordelia to grow stronger, to achieve her dream of becoming a guardian fairy. But he didn’t want her to have to sacrifice herself to get there. He didn’t understand why that had to be the price.

‘You’ll get your chance sooner rather than later,’ Alastair said with a sigh. ‘Alfea will be attacked and we will all have to fight.’

‘I’m going to train some more in the courtyard,’ Cordelia said. ‘Do you want to come? I’d love to practice convergence with you.’

‘Of course.’

Convergence was a type of magic fairies commonly used, but it was possible for witches too. In simple terms, it was combining different types of magic to create a far stronger final result. Alastair wasn’t an expert on this type of magic, and it was unusual for fairies and witches to converge their magic, but his and Cordelia’s magic were two sides of the same coin. Cordelia the keeper of the eternal flame, the most powerful magic in the universe. And Alastair was the keeper of the dark side of the eternal flame. Most young people born in the magic dimension had a choice to become a witch or a fairy. Alastair and Cordelia did not. The eternal flame was their destiny, and the most powerful magic in the universe.

Many were training in the courtyard. Kamala and Eugenia were in a battle, Kamala using her plants as weapons whereas Eugenia flew on her broomstick sending little tornados and bolts at lightning back. All witches took flying classes, but Alastair preferred to keep both feet on the ground, saving use of his broomstick for when it was really necessary.

A group of four specialists were in a battle with each other. Thomas Lightwood looked up and waved at Alastair excitedly. Then he got knocked over by Anna.

‘Idiot,’ Alastair muttered.

‘You like him though,’ Cordelia said.

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

‘You and Thomas, obviously. You think I haven’t noticed the way you two look at each other? We might not have long left before the battle, I’d recommend you make your move before then.’

‘Not interested.’

‘Alright then. Wait for him to make his move,’ Cordelia said.

‘Whatever. Can we practice?’

One of the reasons Alastair didn’t like practicing convergence often was that it required touching people. A couple of battles ago, Cordelia and her fairy friends had been cursed by Tatiana to make their convergence backfire, something Alastair had been able to fix when he figured out it wasn’t their magic that was messed up, they were unable to touch one another.

He took his sister’s hands and felt for her magic. He could always sense her magic, theirs was the only magic that could never be taken away. Two years ago, the Trix had attempted to steal Cordelia’s magic. She had lost her magic for a while, but only because she believed she no longer had magic. That was an important factor in fairy magic, apparently. Then Alastair had uncovered an old book on the eternal flame in the restricted section of Cloud Tower’s library that had revealed Cordelia’s magic could never be taken from her. She’d gotten her powers back the moment she believed in them again. Funny how that worked. The two of them had beaten the Trix together, but the three witch sisters had gotten far stronger since then, not to mention they’d teamed up with Tatiana Blackthorn, another exceptional witch.

‘Eternal flame,’ Cordelia muttered at the same time Alastair called out ‘Dark flame.’

What they created was a wall of fire around the two of them that nothing could get past, fire completely under their control. Alastair was curious how long the two of them could hold this wall. When Alastair finally felt like he was losing control, he stopped the spell and the fire disappeared.

‘Wow,’ Cordelia said. ‘That is great. Think of how many people we could protect with that spell.’

‘At this point, I’m just waiting for the Trix to attack. Get it over with,’ Alastair said.

Alastair heard a voice behind him and turned around to see Thomas Lightwood. ‘I’m starting to feel the same way,’ he said. ‘We keep training, but food is running low and everyone’s getting restless. We’re going to have to defeat the Trix sooner or later.’

‘Oh, look, there’s Lucie and Matthew, I should go talk to them,’ Cordelia said and she disappeared, leaving Alastair behind with Thomas.

‘You’re right,’ Alastair said. ‘The protective barriers keep us safe, but they also keep us trapped. It leaves Cordelia unable to earn her Rnchantix, which we’ll need to defeat the Trix.’

‘What about your enchantix?’

‘I’m a witch,’ Alastair said. ‘We don’t get Enchantix powers and no one really knows how Disenchantix is earned anymore.’

‘I think many witches lost track of what really matters,’ Thomas said. ‘My sister Eugenia felt the same way when she attended Cloud Tower. So much of their teaching is about petty cursing. They teach distrust, to work alone, and to blame others and take revenge rather than solve your problems. That’s why so little witches even have a Gloomix.’

‘The Trix got theirs from a dark power, but that’s just cheating,’ Alastair said. ‘I do have a gloomix myself, it enhances my power enough for now. Witch magic is a lot less reliant on earning new transformations anyway.’

‘Whereas powerful fairies keep earning new transformations and costumes,’ Thomas said. ‘My sister Barbara is a fairy. She’s trying for Believix right now.’

‘I never met her. Is she anything like Eugenia?’

‘Barbara is softer and sweeter, I think. Eugenia is very fierce. Also kind of a gremlin. It makes sense she’s the one of us who chose witchcraft, and that Barbara became a fairy.’

‘And you became a specialist,’ Alastair said.

‘I never had much aptitude for magic, but I’m strong enough to wield a sword.’

‘And you’re a pretty decent pilot,’ Alastair said.

‘I ride a hover bike too. I’ll take you for a ride someday when we’re no longer trapped here. Anywhere you’d like to go.’

Alastair smiled. ‘Are you asking me out?’

Thomas turned red as a beet and for a moment Alastair worried he’d been mistaken, that Thomas wasn’t interested in him at all.

‘If that’s what you’d like, then yes.’

‘Okay. I’ll go out with you,’ Alastair said.

A flash of lightning, followed by thunder mere moments later. Alastair looked around him, worried.

‘It’s probably just Genie,’ Thomas said. ‘She’s a storm witch too. Just like the youngest Trix sister.’

‘Icy, Darcy and Stormy. Their parents must have hated them,’ Alastair muttered.

‘Darcy’s not so bad. As a name, I mean.’

‘Nevertheless, I think they’re here. It’s only a matter of time until they break through the protection spells. Sound the alarm, then meet me in the library.’

Thomas frowned. ‘Why the library?’

‘Because that is where the Trix will be. It’s what they always do, use their army of mind controlled witches and whatever else they have for a frontal assault. And then the three of them will seek out Alfea’s spells in the restricted section of the library.’

‘You shouldn’t go alone.’

‘I know. That’s why I asked you to come with me.’

Alastair ran inside and straight to the library. It was empty, which was a breath of fresh air compared to the rest of the school. There were two entrances to the library, and Alastair cast a curse of dark fire over the other, closing it off, leaving only one entrance he could defend.

He heard voices in the corridor. The Trix had become an intimately familiar adversary by now. He’d met them on his first day of school at Cloud Tower, where they’d been worshipped by all other students. Before their descent into evil, before they’d discovered the three sisters had been after Cordelia’s power before. He’d received a very public humiliation that day and as always he was glad for the chance to return the favor.

‘Look what we have here,’ Darcy said, laughing. ‘A witch, willingly staying with fairies.’

‘Embarrassing, really,’ Stormy added.

One thing the three sisters had in common was their tendency towards evil laughter. It was ridiculous, really, and their insults gave Alastair much needed time to think. Thomas wasn’t here yet, and while he was a powerful witch, he didn’t think he could take all three Trix by himself.

‘I know what you are after, and you’re not getting it,’ Alastair said. ‘You couldn’t expect us to fall for the same tactic over and over again, now could you?’

‘And yet you’re here all alone,’ Icy said. ‘Where’s your sister, Carstairs?’

‘We have unfinished business with her,’ Darcy added.

After proving unsuccessful in stealing the eternal flame from Cordelia, the Trix had held a grudge against her.

‘I’m not letting you near her,’ Alastair said. ‘By the absolute power of the dark flame!’

Dark fire shot out of Alastair’s hands, hitting Stormy and throwing her back against the opposite walls.

‘You’ll pay for that!’ Darcy hissed. ‘Optical darkness!’

The world disappeared around him, he couldn’t see a thing. Not even his dark flame could help him see. He’d trained like this before, casting magic while unable to see. He knew spells like this were dependent on Darcy’s concentration, and all Alastair needed to do was hit her to break it.

He cast a wall of dark flames around himself, nowhere near as powerful as the one he could create when Cordelia’s eternal flame converged with his dark fire, but enough to keep him safe.

His vision returned abruptly and the first thing he saw was Darcy fall to the ground. Thomas was standing behind her, broadsword in hand. Alastair had always had a weak spot for men with big swords.

Stormy had gotten back on her feet by now, and cast a tornado at Thomas, who just managed to jump out of the way. Even with the two of them, taking on three Trix would prove too much and Alastair could only hope more help was on the way. He shouldn’t have come here alone.

The battle drove them further into the library, and Alastair knew he wasn’t winning. He needed an Enchantix fairy, and he knew how to get one. He cast a spell to send a message, calling Kamala his way. He hoped she’d be fast enough to save them. Alastair would hate to die before he could have gone out with Thomas.

He fought defensively, casting flame shields to keep the Trix from cursing him and Thomas any further, and cast a spell on Thomas to enhance his speed and endurance for a moment.

‘Ugh, just give it up already!’ Stormy yelled when another one of her tornados disappeared into Alastair’s fire.

‘And why should I? You’re not getting Alfea’s secrets.’

Darcy moved to cast another spell, but Alastair recognized exactly what she was going to do to Thomas and sent a spell to halt hers. He wasn’t fast enough to stop Icy and caught her ice full into his chest, collapsing backward, the air forced out of his lungs.

‘Alastair!’ Thomas yelled.

‘I think it’s about time we finished off the dark flame,’ Icy said.

Alastair tried to get up, but it hurt so much. Thomas knelt down next to him, checking his vital signs.

‘You’re going to be okay,’ Thomas said.

‘Not if he dies,’ Stormy said drily.

‘I won’t let you kill him.’

Cordelia entered the room, transformed in her regular old golden fairy dress, small wings at her back.

‘Cordelia, get out of here!’ Alastair yelled. ‘You can’t take them all on.’

‘Watch me,’ Cordelia said. ‘I won’t let them kill you.’

She was magnificent in battle, always had been, and with Thomas’ help she fought well against the Trix, casting one fire spell after the other. Alastair tried to move, but only managed to push himself up into a sitting position. He didn’t know what had been in icy’s curse.

‘Cordelia, don’t risk your life for me!’

He tried to cast spells from his sitting position, and almost managed to hit Icy in the face. His aim wasn’t great, but he could still do magic at least. Icy sent another curse at him, and unable to move he caught it in the chest, throwing him back onto the ground.

‘I’m done with these witches coming after us. I won’t let them hurt you!’

A blinding white light surrounded Cordelia. Then she had changed. Her hair had gotten longer, her wings had gotten far bigger, and her dress had changed into a golden short top and skirt. By saving him, she’d earned her Enchantix.

The witches had noticed it too, their eyes had gone wide. They were calculating, and Cordelia took the time to send a spell at them, one much more powerful than anything she’d been able to do before. She hit Icy in the chest, sending her backwards.

‘Let’s go,’ Darcy hissed at her sisters and a moment later the three of them had disappeared into the darkness.

Thomas knelt down next to Alastair once more, checking over his injuries. ‘She hit you hard, you need healing.’

‘I’m fine,’ Alastair managed.

‘Let me,’ Cordelia said.

‘Since when are you a healer?’

‘Since I became an Enchantix fairy and earned my fairy dust,’ Cordelia said. ‘Thank you for the message by the way, or I never would have found you.’

‘That was meant for Kamala.’

‘Yes, I was right next to her, but the enchantix fairies were tasked with restoring the barrier.’

Cordelia fluttered her large, golden wings and fairy dust started flying through the room. Alastair coughed a few times, but when the dust touched his chest, the pain faded away and he could get back on his feet.

‘Thank you,’ Alastair said and when he touched his sister’s hand his felt his own magic change too.

The gloomix around his left arm changed shape and a similar obsidian jewel appeared on his right hand.

‘Is that disenchantix?’ Cordelia asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Alastair said. ‘But I feel stronger.’

‘You did make a rather self sacrificial decision going to the library all alone.’

‘I didn’t expect to be alone,’ Alastair said. ‘Nor did I intend to sacrifice myself.’

‘Or perhaps it was more about allowing yourself to be saved,’ Thomas said.

‘It’s not like I had a choice.’

‘Either way, we both earned new power today,’ Cordelia said. ‘With this, we’re ready to defeat Tatiana and the Trix. For good this time.’

‘We will,’ Alastair said. ‘Nice new costume anyway. Maman is going to kill you when she sees you wear that.’

Taglist: @alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer @life-through-the-eyes-of @styxdrawings @justanormaldemon @ipromiseiwillwrite @a-dream-dirty-and-bruised @amchara @all-for-the-fanfiction @imsoftforthomastair @ddepressedbookworm @queenlilith43 @wagner-fell @cant-think-of-anything @laylax13s @tessherongraystairs @boredfangirl16 @artist-in-soul @broodyhawthorne

#Alastair Carstairs #Thomas Lightwood #Cordelia Carstairs #the last hours #winx club au #alastember 2022 #fanfiction

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rubyastari · 1 year

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THROUGH THESE (TIRED) EYES

For me, being 41 means having seen a lot more than I sometimes really want to know. It means having heard stuff that I can’t always put up with – yet I have to either keep quiet about it or speak my mind up. Proper timing is the key and ... let’s just be honest, shall we? Sometimes there isn’t just that.

However, that doesn’t mean I regret the experiences. (Well, at least not all of them, anyway.) I’ve just realised that, the older you get, the less you are willing to respond to anything that displeases you.

In other words, pick your battles (more) wisely.

I’ve seen a really lazy, selfish, and ungrateful man. He’s been blessed with a loyal, hardworking wife and four beautiful, loving little children. I know some other men who want all he has now.

For starters, this man always complains. In his mind, it’s everyone else’s fault but his. He refuses to see that yes, he’s often part of the problem too.

This man wants to feel powerful at the expense of others. He wants to be the boss without earning much or lifting a finger. Well, even if he does some bare minimum of effort, he expects to be noticed and highly appreciated – while he never feels the need to do the same thing to other people who do things for him.

Sounds really exhausting, eh? That’s what happens when you’re dealing with such self-entitled people. Everything is – and must always be – about them.

In short, his wife and kids mostly leave him alone. They don’t feel like asking for his help or attention anymore. Why? Why bother? Instead of being genuinely helpful, he only makes it more difficult for them.

For example, he hates it when his wife does most things all by herself. He feels like she doesn’t need or respect him for being ‘oh-so-independent’. He feels so ... emasculated.

How sad. How tragic.

Then, what happens when she decides to give him what he wants? He’s being even more difficult. He starts acting as if she’s asking him for too much. He doesn’t want her (or anyone) to burden him with more problems.

In other words, he wants her to be completely dependent on him, but he also doesn’t want her to want so many things. He just wants to control and overpower her. That’s it.

If you ask me, I’m struggling to even breathe properly at the thought of it. I am silently seething. I’m no longer afraid of being portrayed as ‘just another nosy mean bitch’ by the likes of him.

“What the hell do you want, bitch?” I sometimes wish I could just yell at him. “Do you want her to ask for your help – only so you can feel needed like the man you think you want to be – or do you want her to fend for herself because the truth is, you don’t really care about what she needs? Once again, you make it all about you. For once in your life, make up your damned mind!”

Of course, I’m generally quiet in real life. I know where my voice is not wanted. I know who doesn’t want to listen to me. They’d rather see that I keep quiet and just mind my own business.

There are too many things these (tired) eyes have already seen. Too painful things. Sometimes it’s hard to look away from them.

When I do, I find myself filled with dread. Why? What if it slowly becomes a habit? What if that act alone turns my heart cold, down to the point I (choose to) stop caring at all?

Will I become bad? Will that turn me into a selfish bitch?

It’s always harder when it happens to the people you care about. It’s hard because you know that you still can’t do much. Eventually, it’s all up to them.

It’s their choice to do something about it or not. They can just put up with all the verbal, emotional, and psychological abuses or just be done with them all. They know what to do. They always have.

I might sound cold and hateful here. Well, what if for once in my life, I really don’t care?

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rpmemesbyarat · 2 years

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RP meme from Reddit June 2022 (NSFW)

“The original Olympics were all nude. The idea was to celebrate the human form.” “Totally gonna be watching for the erratically flapping penises!“ “Have you been washing your ass in the drinking fountain?“ “I can't poop without bidets“ “It's not gay when it's on a bidet“ “I want to see boobs, butts, and dongs. Bring them back please. Thank you.” “What about nude giant robots having sex?“ “You could just say you’re alone and people would invite you.“ “What a perfect place to kill somebody accidentally“ “ We’re all broken. Some are just more outwardly so.“ “Why is it always that dog?” “Only poor people melt horses to huff, the elite make glue and then huff that“ “Explain to me how shamans discovered that they can get high on fly agaric mushrooms without poisoning themselves if they feed it first to someone else and then drink their piss?” “I saw pure athleticism, focus and coordination. A finely tuned machine“ “It’s horrific and unsettling, and completely unrelatable.” “ All porn is the same nowadays. Step Mum gets stuck under a table she clearly isn’t stuck under and doesn’t shout rape when her step son starts 10 inch pile driving her uterus from behind. “ “ Porn has no plot holes that aren't filled. “ “If you don’t know CPR, just give them a good fling about.“ “ If you want to inflict the maximum pain you need to be patient. Torture can't be rushed. “ “Money can stretch the imagination, not 50 year old fabric.“ “ Look, I'm almost 30, everything about my biology is screaming to make babies.” “Maybe it's just me, but if someone has a pistol and I don't, I will generally try to de-escalate the situation.“ “Cut that thing as many times as your heart desires.” "That's not a baby, that's a dog, you fucking idiot!" “ As a loser who does not have a personal or social life, I still don’t want to work late. “ “I will suffer, and so will you.” “So my brain is a healthy, nutritious breakfast? Sounds lit.“ “I was being gallant” “I wonder at what point in a culture it becomes decided that ‘titty out’ is not acceptable?“ “Just a casual titty.“ “You can sit anywhere. . . except a chair.” “I can see myself getting seriously hurt with this, honestly.” “Holy fuck! That kid exploded.” “I’ve been told I’m more attractive when I don’t speak.” “Lemme see that man-ass.” “If you don’t mind looking a little slutty, put on a dress shirt and roll up the sleeves.“ “Slut Jesus, is that you?” “What if I have no forearm muscles?” “Grow your hair, show up to your date shirtless on a horse with a rose in your mouth.” “Walk around with your fly open. Show a little bit of ball. And if she complains, tell her your eyes are up here. Also tell her to stop sexualizing testicle-cleavage.” “It's a well known fact that women love unsolicited dick pics.” “Scratch my back.” “Sluts for back scritches unite.” “What an evil dog!” “Now you just look like a self centered prick.“ "If my feelings don’t matter, yours don’t either, you fucking asshole” “Can I question the logic of dropping the baby 4 feet first thing in it's life?” “ Don't stop swallowing just because you feel you don't have to prove yourself anymore.” “ Sir, that’s my fart you’re smelling” “How long does your perfume last? I’m wondering if I’ll still smell it later when you’re sleeping.” “Are you ovulating? Because you smell delicious!” “ It's like a middle finger to feminism. “ “You've never been annoyed to tears?“ “I have so many ideas and no place to keep them.“ “You can do 3.4 mil worth of work but you can't do a single push up?“ “ Self-control is such a difficult concept in general. “ “Dude benzos are bad news“ “ I can’t tell if this child is mentally challenged or just British" “ All of the cruelty is done in the name of efficiency.” “Today you learned what "culling" means“ “ You wouldn’t steal a baby!” “ I nearly murdered someone with a Nintendo DS pen” “Stab them in the side of the thigh, that way you're less likely to kill them and it's easier to say it's self defense" “ My anus has never felt so hot. I have an ice pack between my cheeks right now.” “ How many rats are we talking about here?” “ Better rule: fuck bears” “Excuse me! Bear…bear fucker…do you need assistance?” “The anus is capable of stretching to 8 inches in diameter without permanent damage. A raccoon can fit in a hole that's just 4 inches.8/4 is 2, and thus I can shove 2 raccoons up your ass and leave no evidence.” “ Apparently we’ve been saving the wrong bees?” “ Oh, I see you rented a pineapple, ok fancy guy! “ “ Some things in life are so strangely comforting that we can’t help but stare like the crackling fire, the falling rain or the bubbling champagne.”

#rp meme #rp memes #rp starters #roleplay starters #reddit

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electricbluebutterflies · 6 months

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"is this okay?" "it's more than okay." + the pilot babies?

Usual deal - post-canon, PG-ish, also on ao3.

For the first time in… maybe her entire life, Rey has nothing she has to do.

That’ll change, soon enough. The cosmic damage control ahead will probably consume, if not the rest of her life, at least the next decade or so. Too many people have too many different plans in which what she wants doesn’t actually matter, and if she’s lucky they’ll get too distracted fighting with each other and leave her alone, and-

At the moment, and for the rest of this two-week gap, none of that matters.

Her current location is very green, a new sensory experience she’s always wondered about, and she feels the slightest flicker of guilt as she lies down on the grass. For one of her core people, this is still home; this is how she will lose him someday, she suspects, this is how-

She wonders if she should cut that tie now, years before it will actually happen. It would be easier to get her emotions under control now while they are still smaller, when she can still convince herself-

Oh, there’ll be no winning this. Either way, whenever it happens, there’s going to be an awkward conversation about visitation rights for a droid and-

Lately it seems that every time she’s had such thoughts – more and more often, as the current course of her life progresses – the subject of them has decided to appear exactly when she doesn’t know what to do with them. This is such a moment, footsteps that are becoming familiar until he gets close and looks down and-

“Mind if I join you?”

Rey laughs, part of her still unsure why he’s even asking when she’s never bothered to say no. Some people are just sunlight, she thinks, good company even in her worst moods and even better in moments like this when she almost feels light and-

“Go ahead.”

It’s easier to take the quiet moments when she’s not alone, she’s learning. The idea that her survival does not depend on her actions alone anymore, that she will be safe and warm without having to fight for it, is… easier now than it was, she thinks, and maybe someday it’ll feel right, and-

“Is this normal?” she asks after a bit of silence.

“What part?”

“The quiet. Nothing to be afraid of. Nothing…”

“Why do I feel like I’m missing something here?”

She shifts position so she can watch his reactions better, and for a moment that’s distracting, there’s something very easy to look at about him and-

“Feeling that way around other people? Not just you, but…”

They’ve had this conversation before, and it’s never gone well. She is still all that she has been, and that means it will take time to accept that she doesn’t need to repay every little kindness, and the people she’s trying to let closer have displayed an incredible amount of patience that just leaves her feeling like she needs to repay that too, and-

“Yeah. At least, should be normal. You’ll get there.”

She’s jealous of him, she thinks sometimes, this lucky person who’s never had to fight the way she has. She knows there have been imperfections and dark points, fine, but always a sense of being loved as-is, always-

She reaches out and tangles her fingers in his, crossing an unspoken boundary in the smallest way she can. They don’t do this, which is to say he got some idea about her preferences and puts effort into not actually putting his hands on her skin and she’d love to know what made him think that was necessary but it’s also sweet and respectful enough that she’s not complaining, but she needs tethering right now and-

“Is this okay?” she asks before he can recoil or worse make some worried comment.

“It’s more than okay, if… if you’re-“

“I don’t do things I don’t want. Not this kind of thing. Not without really good reasons.”

They are not yet close enough for the conversation about how she views her body as just another asset sometimes and desperation has pushed her to some choices she wasn’t quite proud of and… none of her core people can know that story, they’d end up avenging her and it’d be a disaster and-

He doesn’t question her. He’s learning when not to, and the effort of their little dynamic makes her warm, and-

“You don’t owe me anything, Rey. I’m not like that.”

She’s half tempted to point out that their current position in this moment in time is entirely because he’d decided he hadn’t been home in too long and he was taking some long-deferred shore leave and bringing the rest of the squad with him, and that does look like she owes him something at some point, and-

He shifts position, bringing her hand to his lips but also meeting her halfway, and she doesn’t know what to do with this kind of sweet caution, and-

“Was that alright?”

“Depends what you’re going to do next.”

“Probably nothing, since you’re so-“

“Since I’m what?!” Go ahead, she thinks, go ahead and just say whatever he’s been holding back for months, go ahead and-

“Delicate. You need time. I know… you probably won’t believe me, but I can do slow if that’s-“

“I believe you.”

She knew this was coming, on some level. He’s not as subtle as he possibly thinks he is, and the way he’s looked at her for the past few months has been hard to politely ignore, but on the other hand there’s been a lack of intent to it, at most a sort of wouldn’t-say-no that makes her curious and-

“Tell me to never touch you again and I will stand by that unless it’s a life-threatening-“

“What part of me still being here like this makes you think I have a problem with you wanting me?”

He’s quiet for a few more heartbeats than necessary, and quiet is never a good thing with that man, and-

“You’re not always the easiest person to read. Is that-“

“I’m not ready yet, but I’m not saying no.”

“So this means…”

“Nothing changes. I take my time and figure it out. And you can be a little less cautious with me and-“

“So this is not permission to tackle you right now.”

“Absolutely not. Please don’t-“

“Understood.”

They stay there in silence for a while, hands entwined in the overgrown grass, and part of her understands why this place will always be home for him and a bigger part of her wonders if it could be for her as well and-

“I do like… this. This is good.”

“I can hold your hand as long as you’re distracted by the world around you. Noted.”

“And when I’m not. It’s safe. You have good hands.”

She sees a look cross his face that she suspects means he’s going to have some fun daydreams because of that little comment, and-

“We’ll figure it out, okay?”

“I’m not worried about that part.”

“Good.”

#ebf writes fic #damerey #queue

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k3rm1e · 3 years

Text

cuddling headcanons! ★~(◡﹏◕✿)

this is more of a test thing to see if i like writing this way and if this blog does well

other imagines and headcanons won't include everyone i write unless it is specifically requested and is a prompt i really like

includes: wilbur nihachu karljacobs quackity dream georgenotfound sapnap p!tommyinnnit p!badboyhalo p!skeppy p!eret p!philza p!tubbo p!ranboo

cw: cursing

wilbur:

wilbur is a very cuddle-y guy

to me he seems very soft

i always see people saying he would like spooning, but i disagree

i feel like he would do more of a half-spooning thing with his head on your chest or the other way around

mans would DEFINITELY make you run your fingers through his hair

i feel like he would lay on your chest and just *nuzzle* into the space between your shoulder and neck

anytime you tried to leave him, whether it was because he had to do something or you had to, he would whine. so. fucking. much.

It would probably always go something like:

you - i need to piss

wilbur - no <3

but the moment he decides its time to stop cuddling its fine

and if you complain that you’re gonna miss him he’ll just call you clingy and tease you

like??? sir???

all in good fun though, no bad intentions :)

nihachu:

i feel like you and niki would face each other

with your head like under her chin and in her chest (this is a bad description but look at the “honeymoon hug” on the list for better explanation ;-;)

she would always want to protect you

so she does that by like almost guarding you and keeping you close

niki would definitely do the arm thing where she just lightly moves her hand up and down you arm

i’m so sorry if you don't understand that, it just feels like something she would do

if you haven't experienced that it kinda sorta feels like spiders??? but in a good way???

but generally she is very protective

she just holds you so close the whole time

even if she doesn’t want to let you go, she’s more understanding about it

she would be upset but wouldn’t show it because she doesn’t want to make you feel guilty

niki is generally just an amazing cuddle-r (is that a word?) and has a super comforting presence

karljacobs:

karl would definitely keep your head on his chest

the whole time he would just absolutely squeeze the life out of you

he would constantly bend his neck down to kiss your head

and instead of just like leaving his head down so he could kiss you it would just be:

*inner monologue karl* hmmm i wanna kiss them on their head

and he would lean down to do so which, cute

but then five seconds later he would do it again

and again another five seconds later

and again

very cute karl but please sir, your neck is gonna be so messed up after this

when you had to leave he would be upset, but like niki, would try not to show it

except karl is very bad at that and his pouting would be so obvious

so you would feel guilty and layback down with him

immediately he just becomes (●´ω｀●)

like a happy little puppy

karl is just too adorable for you to deny

quackity:

now we all know this, quackity is a huge dork

which is why i believe he would DEFINITELY use your butt as a pillow

not even in a weird way

i just feel like quackity isn’t too comfortable with touch so this is sorta his way of being close to you without it being a whole serious thing

like he still is able to be goofy and comfortable without it being a whole big thing

him doing this would almost always come with a flatty patty joke from you

which always causes him to threaten divorce, even though you aren’t married

while it isn’t a very good position for things like physical touch, it is good for talking and having conversations

for some reason i feel like he’s the type of person to text someone when they’re right next to each other

so while he’s laying down he’ll just send you random photos of himself

very annoying when your phone is spammed, but also good blackmail material >:)

i don’t think he’d be too clingy

obviously, he enjoys spending time with you

but if you told him you need to go do work or something he wouldn’t throw a fit or pout

big q just seems like he’d be more rational about stuff like that

overall a 420/69 cuddle partner

dream:

one word: spooning

mans just envelops you and has no shame

very big: “no you are mine! >:(“ energy

while he’s sleeping he’ll unconsciously nuzzle his head into your hair/the back of your neck

when you guys got to bed patches usually climbs in and you hold her

i love patches so much i could write headcanons just about her

dream always wants to be cuddling you

if you try to leave he won’t pout, there simply isn't a discussion on whether you’re moving or not

incase you haven’t caught on yet, the answer is no

you need to do work? just bring the laptop to bed

he needs to edit? just sit in his lap at his desk, duh

obviously, he knows at some point you guys need to stop cuddling

he just isn’t too stoked about it

when it comes time where he absolutely can’t cuddle with you, i feel like he’d be more chill

mainly just annoyed

georgenotfound:

i feel like george, like quackity, also wouldn’t be too touchy

i’m pretty sure he has a hard time expressing emotions (please correct me if i’m wrong!!) and i think that would crossover to his sleeping habits

i think he would prefer a sort of back-to-back cuddling position

it seems cold, i know

but also he would most definitely kick at you

so every night while trying to go to sleep suddenly you would just feel *kick*

and then instead of sleep you’re suddenly playing footsie

lots of laughter and warm feelings involved

george would probably pretend that you kicked his leg hard or something and act like you hurt him

the first few times you were actually worried

but then after a few months your only response was a sarcastic “cry about it”

which just led to more laughter

sapnap:

sapnap and you would do a sort of leg hug thing

you both you try to go to sleep in a cute spooning-type position

but the moment one of you fell asleep it all unraveled

you would wake up apart but you’re legs would still be touching

sapnap would joking blame it on you

“wow can’t believe you don't wanna be close with me even when we’re asleep”

“it’s not my fault! i can’t control where i end up when i sleep!”

“no, no. you don’t have to lie. i see how it is.”

“>:(“

but it's okay!

your legs are the first thing to react in a flight-or-fight situation, so they usually react in an honest way

which is like your legs are both reaching to hold each other!

p!tommyinnit:

i don’t get a very touchy vibe from tommy

i feel like the most he would do is put his arm over your shoulder

not in a flirty way, just in a “hey, there isn’t a lot of space, this will make sitting down more comfortable” way

he will let you sorta fidget with his hand/arm

i don't know if that makes sense but what i mean is that he’ll pretty much let his arm go *flop* so you can control it (by like moving it around or playing with his fingers)

in the beginning he would get annoyed

but eventually he would get used to it and wouldn’t really care

it sounds a bit strange but i personally find it very comforting to just have something to fidget with while watching youtube or netflix in bed with my friends

and it’s entertaining (sometimes i do this to me sister to annoy her :>)

he would act like he didn’t mind if you left him

but holy shit he is so clingy

If you try to leave it’ll just be “no, why??? stay here dumbass”

you would be slightly annoyed when he had to leave but knew he had to film and stream and all that so you would be okay

p!badboyhalo:

you would kinda sit within bad’s lap

like not on his lap, but more of in between his legs

he would have his arms around you

and his phone would be in front of you so you two could scroll through twt or instagram together

or you guys could watch skeppy’s youtube ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

rat would sit in your lap

she’s just;;;;;;;; so adorable

rat is just so soft and fuzzy in your lap and everytime you move to pet her she just melts

rat is the the superior cuddle buddy to any of these block people

p!skeppy:

skeppy, similar to quackity, is a total dork

he would make sure you guys were in a position where he could effectively troll you

so if your head was near his lap he would just flick you or some

“dude can you please stop hitting me in the head”

“it turns out i am not actually hitting you in your head because based on the perpendicularity of the bisector multiplied by the photosynthesis of the dividend, it is impossible for me to do so”

“wtf”

lya is so goddamn sick of you guys

she's trying to get him to actually do something but instead he’s just sitting there throwing paper airplanes at you while you sleep

he’s an annoying asshole but it's okay because he gives you money for absurd reasons

p!eret:

eret has such a comfortable presence

i feel like she wouldn’t be up for cuddling too much

more of like putting your head on a friends shoulder so you can see the tweet their showing you

but they do like to hold hands

holding hands isn’t very intimate but it's also just such a sweet comforting thing

she even holds your hand when you guys are out walking around

like if you guys were getting food somewhere (post-covid of course)

you most likely would get addressed as a couple

and he would just be like”...wut?”

it’s happened so many times at this point you just go along with it

“you guys look like such a cute couple!”

“oh we aren't-” “thank you!”

can you tell that i love eret?

p!philza:

phil always has such dad vibes

i feel like the closest he would get to cuddling is hugs and hand holding

even though cuddling isn’t inherently romantic, he is married to kristen

so i fell he would get most of his touch in with her

but with you he’s just so fatherly

hello dadza

whether you have a good or bad relationship with your father, everyone can admit that philza minecraft is dadza

this is such a dad thing, but tries to hold you hand when you cross the street

no matter the age, he just feels the need to protect you

hugs are similar

uses hugs as a way to comfort you and protect you

just so amazing all around

p!tubbo:

tubbo would love cuddling in any way, shape, or form

if you guys are hanging out at like the park or something and lying down

get ready to become this mans pillow

this is really fun to do with your friends but imagine you guys are hanging out in a field type area (with my friends we hand out in the field next to the cemetery but it can be any open grass area)

tubbo would just use your lap as a pillow the whole time

and when you guys were walking back to his house he would sorta drape his arms over your shoulders (assuming he’s taller than you)

he would do the same thing when you guys were sitting in chairs or at a desk

just drapes his arms over your shoulder with his chin on your head

if it's really late and he's tired he’ll just hug you

p!ranboo:

if you thought tubbo is bad, ranboo is even worse

not even really cuddling, he just likes having a sort of skin-to-skin contact

so handholding and laying on top of eachother

if he’s streaming he will legitimately message ou to just sit next to him

so sometimes if he’s just chilling by himself on the smp you’ll end up on his streams

he’ll have you next to him just because he likes be near someone

and so randomly it’ll just be like “chat, a real human is here, behave”

chat does not behave

(they heavily bully him)

he’s pretty clingy but when you HAVE to leave he’ll understand and just be a bit bummed out

holy shit this took me so long-

if you read this whole thing thank you!

#mcyt x reader #wilbur soot x reader #karl jacobs x reader #nihachu x reader #quackity x reader #dream x reader #georgenotfound x reader #sapnap x reader #tommyinnit x reader #badboyhalo x reader #skeppy x reader #eret x reader #philza x reader #tubbo x reader #ranboo x reader #kermie's headcanons #kermie spent so long on this and is dying

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

Text

I want an AU where Anakin and Padme get a divorce halfway through the war on AMICABLE TERMS instead of the "Padme was using him" that I saw recently. Potentially it's in the context of that "Anakin's crush on Padme was comphet because she was an unattainable ideal, he realizes he's gay after he actually attains said ideal" AU.

He still goes over to her apartment when he's meant to be on meditative retreats, but now it's to lie back on her couch with take-out and complain about things, and she complains right back because the Senate is terrible.

Padme has a gay best friend but he's not helpful with fashion at ALL he just tells her she looks great in everything which is very flattering, but also doesn't really do much for her to decide on which headdress to wear to the gala. He can do all the handyman jobs around her apartment, though. She tells him it isn't necessary, but he does it anyway.

Palps sabotages Padme's birth control but nothing happens because she and Anakin aren't actually sleeping together anymore.

Anakin always greets Padme with a huge smile and a hug that spins her around because he's no longer worried about someone figuring out he's married because said marriage no longer exists.

Anakin at one point just whining on Padme's couch like "I'm surrounded by so many hot guys, and I can't hit on any of them, because I'm their commanding officer! Do you know how much that sucks? It sucks so much. Padme. Padme it sucks so goddamn much."

People keep hinting at Anakin's marriage and now that he's not panicking about it he just fucks with them by pretending to be oblivious to the insinuations.

Drunk Anakin comes out to Obi-Wan with the usual 'so many hot dudes and I can't date any of them' complaint and everyone in the room is just like "wait... wait I thought you had a thing with Amidala......"

Something something Anidala maintain the illusion of being a somewhat exclusive couple so Padme can imply to gross dudes that she has a violently protective S/O, which is... mostly true? He's still a significant figure in her life! He is violent! He is protective! He will hurt them if they keep hitting on her! He's just no longer married to her.

Anakin gets confirmation in a roundabout way that he's not going to get punished for a marriage that no longer exists and then just starts referring to Padme as My Ex-Wife and it's uncomfortable for literally everyone except the two of them.

(Same vibes as introducing your wife as "my ex-girlfriend.")

Ventress: Oh? And how would you feel, Skywalker, if I went and stole that pretty little girlfriend of yours for-- Anakin: Ex-wife. Ventress: ...what? Anakin: Get it right, she's my ex-wife. The divorce went through months ago, you're really behind. Ventress: ...what? Anakin: You probably have a shot, though, she likes projects. Ventress: ...what?

In her defense, Ventress meant "kidnap for torture." Anakin was the one that heard "steal yo girl."

As suggested by @thisarenotarealblog on discord:

Anakin: Hey babe you know how you like disasters Padme: I'm listening

Sabe: She's a separatist assassin, my Lady! Padme: Thats what she does, not what she is.

And from @atagotiak at the same:

Now, Ventress being a separatist assassin does make things complicated but it’s not like massive differences of political opinion is a turnoff for Padmé.

IMO Padme's bi/lesbian lover would have to be either Ventress or Bo-Katan, they are the only ladies that have anywhere near Anakin's batshit moral nonsense going on while still plausibly being someone she could turn.

Padme needs a non-hopeless "I can fix them" project in her life.

Anakin, doing the Will Smith pose as Padme disembarks from a ship: BEHOLD, MY GLORIOUS EX-WIFE. Padme: [laughing indulgently] Obi-Wan: [pinching the bridge of his nose] Mace: 😒

#star wars #the clone wars #Padme Amidala #Anakin Skywalker #Asajj Ventress #Obi Wan Kenobi #Platonic Anidala #Phoenix Posts #500 notes #1k notes

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veradescent · 2 years

Text

Streamer AU!

streaming now live!! with . . . tartaglia, kazuha, kokomi and itto

please do not rewrite, redistribute, or repost in any shape or form. thank you! check out the masterlist! masterlist and info/dni here

- feel free to come talk to me on asks! -

❱ now streaming… kazuha!

he does study streams!

he started just by showing his notes and his hands but after a while he finally showed a picture of his face (which was followed by an INSANE amount of people panicking)

now he does streams where he shows himself studying rather than just his hands (as a treat <3) but only on occasion.

stop im so in love with him 😭 i feel very strongly on the kazuha study aesthetic agenda

if it’s a full body stream he probably wears a big hoodie and you can see his organized set up. his room is full of plants and soft warm lighting, and he has an essential diffuser on his desk.

at the beginning of each stream the audience gets to decide what scent he puts in the diffuser for the day. somebody typically tips to get their favorite and he always smiles very fondly as he puts in the oil.

nobody ever complains in his streams or gets upset. it’s just safe. viewers might ask questions and somebody else will answer. or they talk about how pretty and calm kazuha is and hope he doesn’t notice since he’s busy working. (he does. but he thinks it’s funny)

he still doesn’t fully see the point of it all and finds it kind of amusing that so many watch but definitely is very peaceful and enjoys helping people relax. it’s why he keeps doing it.

sometimes people don’t even come to study they just come to see him and enjoy how calm the chat is.

okay the difference between the chaos of childe’s chat that goes at light speed of people freaking out and kazuhas gentle chat where everybody helps each other and talks about how soothing it all is is so funny

in terms of popularity he and kokomi are pretty close, she’s a bit ahead but they’re def friends who talk every time he’s in town.

i’m sorry i’m sorry i’m done but just 🥰🥰 he makes me all soft.

❱ now streaming… childe!

childe is 100% a popular streamer who plays COD and games of the sort i think we can all agree on that.

except sometimes he plays stardew valley. only stardew valley. nobody knows why but when asked he’s only ever responded with “i like fishing” which is true. he only ever spends time fishing in stardew. viewers either love it or hate it. (usually love it because it’s him)

i don’t know why i just feel like he gets frustrated and squeezes his controller really tightly and furrows his brows when he’s trying to focus and not die in game.

instead of hitting things since he’s not destructive he just throws his head back or rubs his face. sometimes he very dramatically takes off his headphones and takes a breath.

he’s always a good sport saying something along the lines of “i’ll get them next time.. i just missed it” and proceeds to figure out what he did wrong to fix for next time.

the absolute sweetest when people send him tips. he’ll always stop to say how appreciative he is and gives this big genuine smile the second he sees the notification. that’s probably the reason he gets tipped so often.

overall just a huge softie, going on his streams is addicting because he’s honestly just so fun to watch with how expressive he is and how amazing his laugh is.

simps. plenty of simps. but in a cute way sort of?? i don’t know how to explain it. everybody loves him so much.

there is this streamer from inazuma though called thoma… they get compared a lot. childe is secretly jealous. thoma is unfazed. might talk about his channel in a part two 🤔

❱ now streaming… kokomi!

i feel like her and kazuha would get along or collab at some point! people probably begged for it and she casually went “oh yeah! kazuha, i know him.” and people were so excited.

she has a pretty big audience honestly, she’s probably the most popular here overall and her community has remained calm and kind.

she has a lot of stationary and writes letters, sometimes she decorates those little photo cards. do you know what i’m talking about??? i think she makes custom ones for her viewers who tip nicely.

her audience is less a devoted same people every time type thing. she encourages this, and for people to come when they want to see her and not because they feel like they have to.

although she does have regulars who will drop by to say hello once in a while, and she never forgets a single person. talking to her on stream is very personal but also not invasive. nothing deep, just reassuring. if it’s been a bad day you can come to her streams and de stress and talk about happy things (happy things?? how do i phrase that??)

her upload schedule can be kind of sporadic, she’s busy and people are always happy to catch her. it’s kind of a i’ll see you when i see you type deal.

she plays animal crossing sometimes! her favorite villagers are merengue, lolly, and merri! she does not like raymond. no i won’t elaborate on that. she has a cluttered cottagecore theme for her island

she has a lot of sponsorships lined up (companies just reach out to her a lot. she’s very unproblematic) but it’s only for things she’d actually use and tells her fans her honest opinions. she does a bit of everything so most of the time it’s makeup or pens or something like that. she likes when she’s sent those little food subscription boxes.

she always has her nails done in pretty colors or acrylics, i don’t know why this is important in the slightest but i just feel like she does. it’s always some sort of creative nail art

she likes supporting small artists! like a lot!! if she buys stickers she’ll always link the shops and tell her viewers where any materials are from. she doesn’t gatekeep her little hobby at all.

people still like to buy from her regardless of if they know how to make them or not, she just is really good at it and makes super pretty layouts. you can tell when she’s the one who made it. plus she sends them in super pretty packaging with a note and extras!

❱ now streaming… itto! (the one and oni!)

itto streaming onikabuto fighting- just kidding betting on that is illegal and against the tos! he learned that last time…no more field trip streams

there is a stream clip out there of itto running from kujou sara after filming an illegal onikabuto match…. but let’s not talk about that!

he actually streams video games a lot like childe, but he’s extremely enthusiastic. extremely.

he calls his fans the arittaki gang. yes he does.

his audience is die hard for him. everybody acknowledges he’s a genius (sarcastic) and it’s like a “hey bro” dynamic. everybody is referred to as ‘bro’ or ‘man’ when itto addresses them. it’s just in his vocabulary.

somehow it gets very deep very fast. itto picks up on if a regular isn’t acting like they usually do and asks what’s wrong. it’s become a space of safety where the entire audience helps with the person.

“oh man i’m sorry you’re dealing with that- yknow i felt like that last week. it’s a hard place to be. yeah chat thinks so too! see? we’re all here. you’re always welcome on the stream we’ve all got your back! always!” the whole chat relating and sharing their personal stories.

if ANYBODY. i mean anybody. says something remotely negative everybody in the chat takes them down almost immediately. it’s so intimidating. like your best friends booing somebody off a stage. it’s great. ittos fairly sensitive to insults deep down anyway even if he brushes them off so it’s probably for the best it’s shut down fast.

not too much else to say here but ittos streams are just hilarious. he sometimes brings the stream places just to show his audience him having lunch or doing something exciting.

he is SHOCKED at his first time being sponsored but gets sponsored quite a few times.

his sponsors sponsor him very cautiously. very. cautiously. because he frequently nearly accidentally violates TOS but they do it because he’s so good at it man can sell anything. his viewers would buy anything to support him.

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