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#i think me calling myself good actually ends up being a self depreciation thing rather then affirming
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Azul, Jack: An Honest Effort
The first thought I had about the Groovy is… MAN’S BARELY OFF THE GROUND (as expected). I imagine that Azul aggressively insisted to the photographer they should lie on the ground to get a high angle shot of him on the broom just to give the false impression of him being higher up than he actually is.
I wanted to write about Azul coming to terms with accepting who he was, as well as shed a light on how hardworking he is. He didn’t just take the easy way out, he actually worked his ass off in all that he does. There’s many instances of Azul going above and beyond go improve, even for things he sucks in or for inconsequential things (flying in his P.E. Uniform vignette, rolling the dice in his School Uniform vignette). He deserves recognition for that.
A Boy in Bloom, and his Flowering Future.
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“What do you do on your days off?”
“I don’t much like to be idle. Time is money, and I would prefer to not waste either,” Azul expelled a breath. “If you must consider it a ‘day off’, then... I wake up early, prepare myself a drink, and peruse the papers. When there is no work to be done, it’s all about self-maintenance.”
“I agree it’s important to take care of yourself, but... You’re basically still working at that point.”
“You could put it that way, yes. However, sharpening one’s mind is not just busywork. It’s also like a kind of training to strengthen the brain, similar to how one would train to strengthen their muscles.”
“Now that, I get.” Jack nodded. “There’s nothing like the burn after a good, honest workout.”
At this, Azul winced. “I fail to see the appeal of such a thing. It’s hardly a sensation that I’d call pleasant. However, I suppose it can be nice to physically feel the results of rigorous effort.”
“You should try it sometime then. You’d appreciate training the muscles if you worked up a sweat yourself.”
“... I do.”
The effect on Jack was immediate. The beastman’s eyes popped, jaw hanging open and fur standing on end.
“HUH?! Azul-senpai, you... train?! Seriously? I never thought I’d hear the word from your mouth!”
“Yes,” Azul replied, bristling. His voice was set in frost. “Is that really so difficult to believe?”
“It’s just--” Jack stopped himself and reconsidered. “You’re not the type of person I picture doing that kind of thing.”
“What does it matter if I am or not? Anyone is capable of exercise, and it is well within my right to do so.”
“Er… yeah, you’re right.” The shock quickly turned to shame, and Jack’s ears flattened, tail dropping. “Sorry. I got caught up in the moment and said something careless.”
“As your benevolent upperclassman, I will overlook your transgression and accept your apology made in earnest.”
Jack gave a small smile. “So tell me more about your training. What kind of exercises do you do? What made you want to start?”
“I try to work a little of everything to ensure that my body is evenly toned. As for what motivated me to begin… I suppose you could say that I was, in your own words, looking for a ‘good, honest workout’.”
“But unlike me, you’re not in an athletic club. You don’t like P.E. class either. When you talked about it earlier, it didn’t sound like you enjoyed training. I don’t think you’d go out of your way to do it for fun.” Jack folded his arms and furrowed his brows. “If you only wanted to get stronger, wouldn’t it be easier for you to make a deal and take someone’s strength?”
“Is that truly what you think of me?” Azul frowned. “You miss the point. What use is it to steal what you desire most rather than earn it for yourself? Would I really be able to call those traits my own? There is no pride to be had in that.”
“You didn’t have an issue with it before winter break.”
“Well…” A complicated look clouded the birthday boy’s features. “I was a different person then. Those things don’t have the same value as they once did. They’ve depreciated.”
In spite of the coldness of his words—the pointed truth of them—there, too, was a soft sadness slipping past his lips. Acknowledgement, and painful sympathy.
Azul was looking at Jack, but not clearly seeing him. His eyes seemed to be trained on something else, someone else, far off in the distance.
A sad little boy curled up in a pot, clouds of inky black tears coloring the water.
“… I was a different person then,” Azul repeated, this time more firmly. “I endeavor to be someone worthy of admiration through my own efforts. If I can be satisfied with my abilities, then it will steer me from walking along that dark path again.
“Be it flying, strength, or luck of the draw… I have always been aware of those shortcomings, in life, but what good comes out of it were I to stop there? What good comes from wallowing in doubt? That is why I will make something for myself, and why I must find my own strength through honest effort.”
I will accept the past and use it to guide me to the future. The “me” I wasn’t able to accept then… Someday, I will become strong enough to embrace him.
Jack stared at him hard. “Are you being honest with me?”
Azul chuckled faintly. “Why wouldn’t I be? What would I hope to possibly gain by deceiving you about my personal ambitions?”
“Towards the end, it didn’t sound like you were…” Jack paused, cocking his head to one side. “Are you even still talking about your Overblot anymore?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I was referring to that incident. What else would I be talking about?”
“You’re dodging the question again,” Jack sighed. “It’s good that you’re motivated to keep up that training though. With that kind of attitude, I’m sure you can reach the heights you’re dreaming of.”
“Urk! Must you phrase it like that?” He hurriedly glanced away, mumbling to himself under his breath. “And here I was, so carefully redirecting the conversation away from that!”
“Heh.” Jack allowed himself a smirk. “So even Azul-senpai has this kind of side to him, huh…”
“Wh-What side?!”
“You know, like a point of weakness. Vulnerable. Kind of squish—”
“AHHHH, DON’T SAY ITTTT!!” Azul pleaded, his volume and pitch spiking into a loud whine.
Jack deadpanned. “Yup. There it is, the squishiness.”
“A-Ahhhh… You went and said it anyway…” the birthday boy groaned, a hand to his forehead. He took a deep gulp of air and slowly exhaled. “… Excuse me, forget you heard that.”
“Why? Isn’t it good to be aware of your weaknesses? That way, you can find strength from them.”
Azul warily eyed him. “You’ve got some bite in you after all.”
“You keep me on my toes. Wouldn’t want you catching me off-guard someday.”
“My, I’m honored to hear that. I’ll have to work hard to keep up with that strong moral character of yours.”
“Good luck. You can work on that along with the muscles. Maybe I’ll see you at the gym or on the field sometime. Until then… show me what you’ve got.” Jack nodded at Azul’s broom.
“Hmph, very well. Prepare for me to deft your expectations, and bear witness to the fruits of my labor!!”
The merman mounted his broom, tensely straddling the handle between both legs. It was a posture he has practiced for hours on end—perfected and polished like a mirror, if not a little too stiff.
The moonlit air around him heated with magical energy, sparkles flickering among the flowers. Very slowly, his bouquet—and his feet—lifted from the ground.
And…
… Azul sluggishly chugged forward, only a few centimeters off of the ground.
“Uh… good job? … I think.” Jack searched for a compliment. “It definitely ‘defied’ my expectations like you said it would.”
Azul flushed.
“… N-Not a word of this to anyone, Jack-san!!” He sputtered back. “Solemnly swear to me that you will not share this with a single soul!!”
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I had a sensory overload today and cried on my boyfriend chest, so you're all getting headcanons so I can make myself feel better! Don't pay any attention as to how late it is!
Jacob:
-He has so little confidence in himself that it's actually sad
-Cannot be stopped from making self depreciating jokes, no matter how many times people tell him it's not good
-If this boy had a tiktok it would be blank. Maybe a cartoon pfp, but not a single video (Same bruh same)
Emma
-Out of everyone in the loop, she's the best at makeup. Doesn't mean she wears it all the time, but when she does good shit
-If she's in a bad mood, she can destroy you with words if she wants to. Luckily, this doesn't happen often, especially not to her friends. Random men that don't leave her alone on the other hand...
-For a while she had a "I'm not like other girls" thing going on, especially whenever Noor first came around. Not really there anymore though
Millard
-Do you ever get sensory overloads and cry? Then boy, do I have the cure for you! Cry while he hugs you. Automatic cure, I can confirm this right now from personal experience
-Sometimes he gets a little too focused on something and won't realize just how late he's said up until someone has to actually drag him to bed
-Gives the best and most thoughtful gifts. Oh? You collect pinned bugs? He's finding out where to get a rare pinned bug and giving you that on Valentine's day! Yes, that's what he did for me, I love him so much #justfictivethings lol
Hugh
-Out of everyone in the loop, he has the most...complex feelings about his gender. Being so tied to bees, he's beegender, but with that comes some strange feelings. Most bees are female, so he does feel a strong connection to femininity. But at the same time, he still feels tied to drones/male bees.
-He tries not to think too much about it, and maybe keeps it bottled up a bit too much. Maybe it's because it stresses him out to ponder too much. Maybe he's embarrassed to talk about it. No matter what though, he does feel a lot of gender euphoria wearing skirts and confusing people about what gender he is.
-His sexuality is probably just as confusing to find an exact label, but it's not something he worries about. He just ends up using the term queer and calls it a day
Fiona
-Fiona being plantgender surprises no one, and it never will. Same with her being bi. She just...you can just look at her and tell
-She's probably the least happy in a modern setting. Everything is just...too much for her. She likes the whole cottagecore thing, but she'd much rather keep to her usual ways. So still stuck in the late 1800's
-She has a way to talk to Hugh with just...looks. Slight facial expressions, body language, they just know each other that well. More often than not, they're flirting with each other like this out in the open
Enoch
-Was put on kitchen duty once....Once. The peculiars don't talk about this often
-You can't pay him to play sports with the other boys. He'd sooner pull teeth
-I am voting him as most likely to have filled his homework with doodles
Horace
-He's not a fan of many things in the modern day, but he does appreciate a few things. Easier tools for cooking, Google, and easy access to fabric to name a few things
-What he isn't a fan of though? Fashion (obviously), dance trends, and the modern humor
-His scream could break glass
Bronwyn
-HATES it when people call her a man for whatever reason. On bad days, it makes her cry
-She has a bit of hyper empathy with animals, especially baby ones
-A boy hit on her ONCE and she felt physically nauseous about it for a whole WEEK
Claire
-Says her favorite Disney princess is Aurora because her dress is pink, it's actually Cinderella because of the song "so this is love"
-She sees everyone in the loop as her siblings, but especially Enoch
-In a modern setting, she is addicted to those dress up flash games, bonus points if they're princess themed
Olive
-Sometimes she rolls her ankle in those big shoes, there are a lot of tears from that
-Has stepped on toes before! Bones were indeed broken!
-Master at finding lost items. No idea why
Bonus Victor!
-Horrible about confessing his feelings
-Makes horrible decisions when he gets nervous. It's like all critical thinking goes out the window
-Seems like the type with pencil graphite stuck in his hand permanently somewhere
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catxsnow · 4 years
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REPLACED
Summary: Bruce might have adopted a bunch of children, but that didn’t mean all of them were ready to take on the mantle of Robin.
Batfam x reader 
Warning: angst, self-depreciation, Damian being a demon-spawn  
A/n: I’ve learned when I’m feeling depressed I write depressing so here we are. 
GIF not mine
Word count: 2.4k
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You struggled a lot in your life.
Bruce Wayne found you after the death of your mother. Your father had never been apart of your life and without your mom, you had no one. Just like he had done with the Dick, Jason, Tim, Steph, he had taken you into his home with open arms. It was a big adjustment, one that took you years to get used to.
He trained you to be the next Robin, but fighting was something that you could never grasp. No matter how much he pushed you, had patience with you, and spent hours upon hours training, you felt as if you were never going to be enough to get on the streets. You felt weak, pathetic that you couldn't be as good as the rest before you.
And then Damian came into the picture. He was trained from such a young age that he was far better than you and he was years younger than you were. It made you feel even worse about your skills. Before you could even get your chance as Robin, Damian had taken the title from right under your feet.
That was your breaking point. For years you forced yourself to not give up. You thought that maybe if you pushed yourself to your limits that you would reach the point that you could go out there. You were wrong. The moment Damian showed up at the Wayne Manor, you had finally given up.
Maybe it was for the best. If you had to train for that long, just to be able to go on patrol a few nights a week then maybe it was best that you never got your chance.
It broke Bruce's heart to see you give up.
He always wanted what was best for you. No matter how much he yelled at you and pushed you down, he did it because he wanted you to stay safe. Not once did he ever give up on you because you had never lost faith in him. Damian showing up ruined that.
It wasn't just his abilities that towered over yours, it was his teasing. He knew he was better than you and it made sure that you knew it. Damian put you down, mocked your skills, and pushed your to your mental breaking point. You didn't think he realized the damage he was doing until you broke down in the cave.
“What benefit does she even bring to the team, father? You’ve been trying her for years and she hasn’t even come close to making it the being Robin,” Damian harshly spoke. He said many more things about you, things that no one should ever hear about themselves. 
Damian was talking to Bruce about you, wondering why you were there if you never even made it out on the streets. His words tore through your chest - useless, weak, pathetic - all the things you already felt. You were sparring with Tim at the time, Damian must have thought that you couldn't hear.
Tim heard too.
He saw you pause in the middle of your training. Standing there with your shoulders slumped and tears in your eyes. He stopped, hearing what you were hearing and understanding why you were like this. The only reason that you were even down there, was because even after you told Bruce you wanted to give up, he asked you to at least keep yourself enough on your toes that if something were to happen to you, you could protect yourself against a common thug.
Tim tried to stop you from running off, he wanted to tell you not to listen to what he was saying but it was too late. You were already storming off, tears streaming down your cheeks. Thankfully, neither Bruce nor Damian noticed your exit - as far as they knew, you hadn't heard a thing.
Bruce was yelling at Damian when you left, angered that he would say these things about you. You might not have been the best fighter on the team but you were still part of it. Even if that meant that you were the one stay back and stay on comms or stitch them up when they got back. You were a part of the team just as much as the rest of them.
Damian wasn't able to see that. He was just a kid, as much as he didn't want to be seen as one. He didn't understand the human emotion at that age, especially being the way that he was raised. You knew that you should have taken that into account but it didn't make his words hurt even left.
You left to your room. The tears wouldn't stop, everything that he was saying was your worst insecurities spoken in truth. Everyone knew that you were self conscious about your skills, but they also knew that you were trying your best and that was what mattered the most. Damian didn't know that.
For years, you felt older than you actually were, it was a quality that was picked up by every child in that house hold. However, laying there on your bed crying your eyes out? You felt like the teen that you were. Filled with sadness, loss of hope, you didn't think you would ever find your place.  
You cried and cried until no more tears would come out. Knees tucked to your chest and staring at the wall with lifeless eyes, you felt like the disappointment that you always thought you were.
"(Y/N)," there was a knock at your door. It sounded like Tim, but you couldn't be sure over the sound of your sniffles.
Weakly, you replied back, "go away."
"(Y/N), I'm not leaving until you let me in," You knew for sure that it was Tim. He was the only one to see you run off so upset. Tim was always a good older brother to you. He understood the struggle of not being able to be as strong as Dick or Bruce, but where he lacked strength, he made up with in skill. You had neither, at least not enough of either.
Reluctantly, you allowed him to come in. Tim saw you curled up on your bed, eyes red and puffy. He joined you on your bed, wrapping his arms around you. You thought that you had no more tears to shed but the second you crashed into his arms, they spilled again.
"Don't listen to him," Tim rubbed your back. Age wise, you were the closet to him which made it easier to get along. Tim always seemed to take your side no matter the circumstance. "Damian has been training since he was a child, you've only been here a few years. That doesn't make you less worthy than him.
"In fact, just by showing that you've never given up proves that your better than he'll ever be. You're willing to learn, to improve, Damian has reached an arrogance that makes him thinks he has no more to learn," Tim tried to comfort you. "You can't give up now, I know you already talked to Bruce but -"
"But nothing, Tim," you shook your head, pulling away from him. "Damian's right, I'm not cut out for this, I never have been. We both know if I ever go out there, the whole time everyone is going to be worrying about me and the job isn't going to get done. Bruce might have made me family but I'm not meant to be under the wing of Batman."
"That's not true," Tim argued. He wished that you could see how much you had improved. He wished that you could see that you were just as valid of a member of this family. You were important to everyone there - even to Jason who rarely liked to admit that he tolerated anyone in that family.
"But it is, we both know it, we've always known it."
><
You wished that you were strong enough to not sulk around the manor for the next week but that wasn't the case. Damian's words were really tying you down and nothing was able to get out of your rut.
Tim tried to help in every way he knew how. He would bring you your favourite drink when the two of you got back from class, he even tried to bake you cookies. You appreciated his efforts, you really did, but this wasn't something that could be fixed with material items.
By the end of the week, Bruce finally picked up on how you were feeling. You had done your best to avoid him but when he cornered you in the library, you knew that there was no escaping him.
"(Y/N)," Bruce called out to you. World's best detective was going to see through you facade in a matter of seconds. It was time to face him, you knew you had to. Maybe this was what you needed: tell him how you felt about Damian's arrival. "You've been MIA for a week, what's going on?"
He didn’t even know that you heard what Damian said about you. What a joke. 
"Damian is what's going on," you suddenly felt this sudden rage fill your body. This wasn't like you, you were never an angry person. "Damian shows up in the middle of fucking nowhere and you treat him like he's some kind of-of god! I've been here for years, he hasn't even been here for two months and you replaced me with him. For godsake Bruce you let him take my place as Robin before I even got the chance!"
Your voice continued to raise as you spoke. Bruce had never seen you like this - the anger that rose a fire in your eyes and fists tight at your sides. He knew that Damian's arrival wasn't necessarily ideal in their plan for the future but he couldn't change what it was now.
“We’ve talked about this. I’d rather you be stuck training for years then dead on the streets because you weren’t ready,” Bruce tried to argue. The situation was less than ideal but he didn’t even put in the extra effort to try and change it. 
“That isn’t the point!” You yelled. “I don’t give two shits that I’m not ready. I don’t care that I’m not as naturally equipped as the others. You gave up on me along time before I gave up on myself. You replaced me because that was easier than facing me!” 
"(Y/N), calm down, you're starting to sound like Jason," Bruce tried to get you to lower your voice. He had known the pain that Jason felt when Tim took his place after his death and you were starting to say the exact same things that he was saying when he was in that same place.
"Is that such a bad thing?" Your voice still echoed through the large library. "Maybe Jason was right. Maybe this family is too fucked up to ever amend. Maybe he was right to leave and never look back! You let Damian say those things about me and you never did jackshit about it! What kind of father does that prove you to be?"
Bruce looked taken aback by your words. You always appreciated him taking you in, but there were some lines that he had crossed that you couldn't forgive him for. This was one of them - the betrayal that you felt when he took sides over his son he didn't even know existed against you.
Bruce’s silence said more than any string of words could.
With a huff of air, you pushed past Bruce and out of the library. Maybe Bruce was the reason that you were never able to reach your potential as Robin. Maybe he never took you to the same level that he took with the boys and with Steph. Maybe it was Bruce Wayne that never wanted you to make it to being a vigilante.
The idea had never crossed your mind before, but the more you thought about it, the more you thought it to be true. You felt as if you were always missing pieces of training - moves that Tim was able to do and you couldn't, tactics that Dick would come up with, even using weapons like Jason when he was Robin. There were so many things that you could never do.
The thought of him sabotaging your success just made you even more angry than you were before. In that moment, you wanted nothing more than to be Robin, you wanted to be a better hero than Bruce, Dick, and everyone that came before you. You wanted to prove everyone wrong.
You hadn't realized that you walk of anger had led you to the gardens. The sun was just setting and through your red vision, you had to stop and admire the beautiful orange and purple skies that shone through the trees. The sight had calmed you instantly, and you stood there to watch the sun finish setting.
Dick was the one to show you how pretty they were in the gardens. It was when you first arrived at the manor, upset about your mother's death. he tried to make you feel better with the view and it had worked. You always thought of your mother when the sun set after that, it was a reminder she was still there with you.
"(L/N)," you hadn't realized how long you had been watching it. The smallest glimpse of light was left and darkness began to cover the yard. You were surprised to see that it was Damian standing next to you. Since his arrival, you avoided having a full conversation with him. "Father told me to come apologize to-"
"I don't want your apology, Damian," you looked down at him. He seemed relieved that he didn't have to do it, but even more so confused. Just as the last bit of light left the sky you fully faced him. Damian watched as your face grew with determination.
"I want you to make me a lethal weapon."
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lovelivingmydreams · 4 years
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Okay so here is part two of this promt of mine to thank my now almost 250 followers. First part here. Enjoy!
Remus had a lot of fun stating the facts to the others. When they finally put everything together their faces will be even more hilarious! For now the others remained clueless though. For a little while Remus thought they'd all be old and grey by the time anyone figured it out.
Luckily they did get a clue about a week after Remus learned the exciting truth.
It was the evening before the premier of a project they'd been working on for ages. Roman was going over everything in the common area with everyone else as practice audience. Remus was playing heckler. No one asked him. He just did. He probably should have noticed Virgil tensing up with each comment. But he didn't. After Remus shouted something about a possible wardrobe malfunction Virgil shot up. "We have to cancel. We're not ready!"
Everyone looked up at Virgil in surprise. It'd been a long time since last he demanded skipping or postponing any type of commitment. It was always an option to him, but this wasn't a suggestion. It was a demand so strong that Thomas actually was thinking of what to tell Joan already.
No one knew what brought this on or how to resolve it. But Roman was still going to try.
"What do you mean? I'm sure we can see to any doubts you have and blow everyone away tomorrow."
Virgil balled his fists and shook his head. "Too much can go wrong..." he hissed through gritted teeth.
"Certainly. But we mustn't let down our audience for mere chance of failure.," Roman countered gently. "You think I'm being paranoid?" Virgil snapped accusingly.
Roman looked taken aback. "Virgil you are overreacting. I am merely trying too help!"
Virgil huffed, threw his hood over his head and stormed off to his room.
"Virgil!?" Roman called after him, but he didn't follow him up the stairs. He remained behind until they all cringed at the sound of a door slamming shut.
The prince's shoulders slumped and his head lowered dejected. "I'm... I'm going to reread the lines again..." he muttered before heading to his own room.
Patton reached out to Roman's retreating frame but came up short on things to say. The silence remained until a gentle click signaled that Roman had entered his room.
"That was fun," Janus muttered sarcastically as he got up, intending to talk to Virgil.
"Snakey, he just had his first fight with his boyfriend. He isn't up for 2 lies and maybe a truth," Remus pointed out. "Just like how my bro isn't going to appreciate playing tag with me."
Everyone stared at Remus, surprised he was capable of such insightful comments.
"Well that leaves us Lo," Patton observed looking up towards the private rooms tensely. Roman and Virgil argued a lot. Even now that they were all friends. Such was their nature. But those arguments were usually loud and full of Virgil's quips and Roman's dramatics. This one was unnervingly quiet in comparison.
"It would appear so. You should check on Virgil, I shall attempt to reason with Roman," Logan suggested. Patton nodded and together they headed to the opposing rooms. "Good luck," Patton smiled at Logan before knocking on Virgil's door.
"Virge? Mind if we chat for a bit?" A moment of silence before the door was opened. Patton hadn't heard him walk over... had he been by the door?
The question was forgotten when Patton saw Virgil's make up was running.
"Come in Pat..." he whispered softly, though he wasn't looking at him. Or rather past him at Logan.
Once more that puzzle was put asside in favor of cheering up his kiddo.
They sat on Virgil's bed, V curled in on himself Patton Indian style.
"I know I shouldn't have ran off... and that Roman wasn't calling me paranoid. So if that's all you wanted to say..."
"Actually," Patton started, interrupting Virgil before he could even start whatever self depreciating train of thought he was starting.
"I wanted to ask why you are so worried about this performance. It's not a big event and we are well prepared. Remus was only trying to get Roman of balance you know?"
Virgil dug his fingers in his hair in frustration. "I know! But what if it happens for real!? Roman'll get hurt!"
Patton blinked in surprise. He expected Virgil to be worried about Thomas first and the rest of them second. Prioritizing Roman like that... was Remus onto something? Patton always thought Virgil and Roman would make an absolutely adorable couple.
Virgil sighed and wrapped his arms around his legs to pull them tightly against his chest.
"Ever since you guys accepted me... I've been patching Roman up when he got 'bruised'. And even before I tried to check up on him... it's my fault when he gets hurt Patton. Because I didn't push Thomas hard enough, or too hard... anything I do wrong ends up hurting him. He was right to hate me. And when he realizes that I'll lose him and then you guys will stop talking to me and..."
"Kiddo hey... you're spiraling buddy." Logan said it's important they tell Virgil when he's trapped by his own head and how. "Breathe."
Virgil nodded and took a few deep breaths while wiping at his eyes.
"Virgil, none of us would ever blame you for trying your best."
Not even Roman. He knows you always act with our best interest at heart. And if you tell him you were worried for his safety, the whole thing will be forgotten," Patton assured the anxious side gently, secretly hoping that getting Virgil to open up towards Roman this way might help them get closer. Prinxiety just might set sail after all.
"You think so?" Virgil asked, not convinced.
"I know so. Take it from your old man kiddo. Roman cares about you. He has a funny way of showing it sometimes, but he does."
Virgil's face relaxed his eyes softening and his lips pulling into the tiniest smile.
"Yeah... I'll talk to him," Virgil nodded getting up and walking to the door with Patton. 
Logan frowned, confused by the strange look Virgil had cast at Roman's door. Fearful yet almost longingly...
He must be mistaken. Emotions were not his area of expertise after all.
Instead of pondering the question any further, he turned and knocked on Roman's door.
"Roman? I wish to discuss something with you,"
A moment passed. "It's open."
When Logan entered he found Roman sat at his desk, his notes in front of him and his hands in his hair.
"I... can't figure it out Logan... I turn the conversation over and over in my head... what should I have said?"
When Roman looked up it was evident to even Logan that he'd been crying though he was doing his best to hide it.
Logan sat down on the bed his body angled towards the desk.
"Virgil was not mad at you Roman. It would seem something triggered a negative thought process in his mind which he tried to hide as not to disturb us. In doing so though the thoughts were not addressed and instead were left to build up tension which got released all at once. Even if you said exactly what he needed to hear, he was not in a mindscape to accept any of it. I am sure Virgil regretted what he said as soon as he said it. I theorize that he took distance in order to calm down before talking to you again," he explained.
Roman nodded allong to that. "So... I haven't ruined everything?" he asked almost timidly.
Logan shook his head. "You know I am not good with feelings. But i have observed that you and Virgil have grown close since he got accepted. Especially in recent weeks he is calmer and less prone to negative thinking when he interacts with you. Likewise he has clearly helped you be more focused and keep a level head, some of the time at least. You two have built something strong. And one fight like this won't end that."
Roman was tearing up again, but this time he was smiling.
"Truly? You believe I am good for him?"
Logan nodded his head, eyeing Roman curiously. He might be wrong but it almost seemed like...
"By Neptunes swimtrunks!" Roman exclaimed wide eyed. "I thank you for your aid Logan but I must make myself presentable and talk to my Emo post haste!"
His emo? Logan almost wished he was wrong. If Remus was right in any capacity he'd never let any of them live it down. But Roman and Virgil finding happiness with each other might just be worth it.
Logan let Roman push him to the door and let himself out as Roman was already hurrying to his bathroom. In the hallway he found Patton being led out of the opposing room by a nervously shifting Virgil.
"Is Roman mad at me?" he asked nervously.
"Of course not. He is worried about you," Logan assures his friend warmly.
Virgil relaxed at that. "Thanks guys. I think we'll be fine," he told them as he headed to the door. Logan got the hint and led Patton down the hall. He heard Virgil knock at the door an call out Roman's name. If he or Patton had turned back they would've seen how Virgil kissed Roman as soon as he opened the door.
Roman kissed his boyfriend back as he walked them both inside and closed the door.
"Not that I'm complaining but... what if someone saw?" Roman wondered quite happy actually with the bold gesture of affection. Virgil's role usually made him extremely cautious, which made his bouts of impulsivity even more surprising and delightful.
"Well if they did then I get to take you out to make it up to you," Virgil shrugged.
Roman chuckled. "You have nothing to apologize for mi corazon. But the thought is greatly appreciated. Want to talk about this over pizza and Disney?"
Virgil smiled and nodded. "You pick the first movie." 
Logan and Patton voiced their suspicions to one another as well as Janus. All three agreed to wait with intervening and giving the two a chance to figure things out for themselves.
The tipping point came when they had a scheduled meeting with Thomas to discuss an upcoming colab he was nervous about.
First Roman and Virgil weren’t to be found anywhere. And then when Thomas pulled called them up by force they looked… disheveled.
“Good timing Thomas. One second later and… I honestly don’t want to think about that,” Virgil muttered as he straightened his hoodie and hair out.
Roman looked rather sheepish as he tugged at his sash and combed trough his hair.
“Where did you two come from?” Patton asked astonished.
“Imagination,” Virgil huffed as he turned to Roman, avoiding everyone else’s eyes subtle enough to be considered a coincidence.
“I told you we should have waited until after the meeting,” he told him, though he didn’t seem to be as mad as he was trying to be.
“I didn’t think we’d take that long,” Roman tried feebly.
“I did! You have no self control! Always have to go the extra mile don’t you?” Virgil pointed out. Roman looked back at Virgil now, a lot more confident.
“I didn’t hear you complaining,” he pointed out with a smirk.
Virgil rolled his eyes, but stuck his hands in his pockets and looked down. “I was kind of distracted,” he admitted.
“It’s no matter, we are here in one piece and there are more urgent matters at hand. Shall we, my stormy knight?”
Virgil sighed dramatically. “You are lucky you are so cute.”
Everyone in the room looked on incredulously. How were these two so clueless?
When the meeting ended, Roman and Virgil picked up their hike where they left off. On a blanket on top of the hill, ignoring the sunset in favor of making out.
“They need help Logan. Desperately! I am all for letting my kiddo’s take their time but this is too much! They are obviously in love!” Patton pleaded.
“Even I can’t stand watching them make eyes at each other any longer. Virgil is… taken with Roman. And Roman appears to be returning those feelings,” Janus admitted reluctantly. Virgil’s eyeshadow had been lilac more often than not when around the creative side. Only a complete idiot would keep denying it at this point.
“Told ya!��� Remus grinned.
“Okay, fine… So how do we go about ‘setting them up’?” Logan relented.
Remus giggled manically. This was going to be so good.
“We make them spend time together! They have to realize they are meant for one another if they spend time one on one!” Patton exclaimed.
“But they are already together most of the time?” Logan objected.
“They are always working though. We have to pull them out of their comfort zone!”
Janus and Logan exchanged looks. “I’ll give an example,” Patton decided.
“Kiddo’s will you come down please!”
Roman and Virgil appeared almost at once, side by side, smiling brightly at Patton, Virgil’s eyeshadow bright and shiny as any of them had ever seen it.
“s'up pops? Virgil asked casually.
“Family picnic. You two take care of deserts!” Patton grinned brightly. “me and the others are going to put a basket together. Kitchen is all yours.”
And before either of the happy couple could respond Patton had pushed Janus and Logan out, followed closely by Remus. “have fun you two,” the green twin winked before rounding the corner.
“Are they seriously setting us up?” Roman whispered in astonishment.
“That’s hilarious,” Virgil grinned before turning to the kitchen counter where a cookbook laid open on a cake recipe. “Think you can handle this clever scheme o unconquerable prince?” he teased.
“Oh ye of little faith. It is I who shall thaw thine frozen heart with true loves kiss,” Roman grinned back.
“Do you think they've confessed yet?” Patton wondered as he placed nervously in Logan's room ten minutes later. The room calmed him down mostly but not near enough to be considered calm.
“Let's find out!” Remus exclaimed. Before anyone could stop him he was gone.
“That'll end well.” Janus groaned as he followed behind with Patton and Logan. To everyone he’s surprise they found Remus watching the kitchen rather discreetly. They joined him and were left speechless.
Roman and Virgil were both wearing aprons and chefs hats that matched their styles perfectly, both disregarding their usual top attire for simple t-shirts. Which was a good thing because there was an abundance of flower, chocolate and egg all over them.
Virgil was currently scolding Roman who was  trying to take the mixing bowl from him. Neither was cross with the other though. In fact, both were nearly dying of laughter.
“Truce! Truce!” Roman called out as he managed to get a hold of himself. “Let’s compromise. Lest we get poorly mixed batter added to  our canvases. How about I show you what I mean?”
Virgil relaxed his protective hold on the bowl and let Roman step behind him. Roman adjusted Virgil’s grip and laid his hands over his aligning their arms. He gently guided Virgil in mixing the batter.
“See?” Roman asked softly after a bit.
“um… wait almost. Show me that last bit again.” Janus quirked a brow. That was a lie. And if that was a lie, then Virgil just wanted… Oh boy his ray of stormshine had it bad.
Patton was nearly vibrating. Surely they'll realize…
“and there. Now it can be baked and we can get clean!” Roman declared satisfied as he stepped away. Virgil nodded and sighed in relief. “Finally, I’m more beat than the batter,” he joked. Roman snorted but he wasn't the only one.
“Oh hey Padre!” Roman greeted innocently. “ The cake will be done soon!” 
Logan was up next. He reasoned that the key was physical proximity. He had observed that as light as the two acted about it afterwards it had clearly gotten to them. Remus suggested locking them in a closet until they ‘made out’ but Logan was sure he could be more subtle than that.
“What? But organizing the thoughts is your job!” Roman complained.
“It is and I apologize. I've been falling behind on my duties. Please, I am sure that if the two of you worked together it will be done quickly.”
Both Roman and Virgil sighed. They knew this was a set up, so they'd get away with more flirty behavior. But it was also work. And the room where the thoughts were being kept was so full of cabinets and boxes that it was near impossible to move around on your own let alone… oh.
If Logan thought he was being more dignified than Remus would be by disguising it as an accident he was wrong.
Roman wasn't even surprised to hear the door click shut as soon as Logan was “out of ear shot".
He was surprised to find that Logan had arranged the cabinets and boxes in a manner that would make them topple over and trap him and Virgil on the ground. Virgil on his chest as he'd pushed Roman to the ground and his arms wrapped protectively around his body to cushion his fall as much as possible.
They were stuck in that exact position for as long as Logan seemed necessary.
“Do you think either of those schemes would've worked if we weren't already dating?” Virgil wondered. Roman thoughtfully played with the hairs at the base of Virgil's skull for a bit.
“Not sure. We can both be stubborn. I’m kind of glad that I’ll never know,” he confessed.
Virgil sunk deeper into his embrace. “Me too.”
It wasn’t as fun as the baking scheme, but it was nice to cuddle with nothing else to do. Virgil usually got fidgety after a few minutes, even if he wanted to stay forever.
Roman wasn’t much better at staying still. But this… This might just convince the both of them to do this more often.
“I don’t hate this,” Virgil sighed after laying in silence for a while.
“I do make for a handsome pillow,” Roman joked as he pulled Virgil in closer.
“You do. But I mean… Usually silences are terrifying to me. But this? I don’t mind. I don’t worry about what you’re thinking. Or that I’m supposed to say something. It’s just… us and that’s enough. You know what I mean?”
Roman thought it over for a moment. “Yeah… I do. This is… As close to perfect as life is going to get,” he sighed contently.
It was something close to 30 minutes before they heard the door open and a moment later the room rearranged itself. “Tell me this isn’t something we could’ve done this entire time!” Virgil groaned as he got up, not showing his reluctance to do so.
“This is Logan’s domain. He maintains order in here. I have no power,” Roman huffed pretend offended, he was less successful in hiding how perfectly content he‘d been with their predicament.
“Indeed I do,” Logan agreed, flanked by Janus and Patton who both saw the look on Roman’s face. Again almost but not quite. What would it take?
Logan apologized for their predicament and assured them that he would complete the task. If they’d bought into the ruse for even a second this would have definitely tipped them off. But they let Logan think he was successful at least in hiding his intentions.
Janus initial idea was to simply impersonate either of the boys and using that form to get the other to confess. He never tried. And if he did he wasn’t found out almost right away.
So his second attempt he didn’t disguise himself or his intentions. Not to Roman at least.
And so the theater was left to fade away. It’s purpose fulfilled in an unexpected way.
“What exactly are your intentions with Virgil?”
Roman looked up from his vanity comb still in hand.
“After what you tried to pull yesterday, I’d say you know what my feelings are. As for my intentions… I won’t do anything that’ll make him uncomfortable. Don’t you worry,” he said as he returned his attention to the mirror and hummed ‘Once upon a dream’.
“So you are in love with him,”  Janus drawled studying his nails. Though he glanced up to see Roman’s face flush. “Well…” the prince hesitated for a moment but then a blissful smile broke free and he leaned back with a sigh. “Yes,” he confessed dreamily.
“So tell him.” It was not that hard! He was the romantic side wasn’t he? Shouldn’t he be all for grand gestures like this?
Roman pursed his lips and shook his head, sitting up again and returning to his beauty routine.
“I’m waiting for the perfect moment.” Their first official date actually. If the other’s hurried and put the pieces together, they might be able to go on one for their 2 month anniversary.
He might already have something planned out. He had little doubt he’d be the one to crack first.
“I thought you’d say that. Come on, he’s waiting.”
Roman shot up. What was Janus planning?
The serpentine side led him to the imagination where a theater was set up. They entered stage right where Roman saw Virgil was waiting on stage.
“What is this about Jan?” the emo growled, eyes darting towards Roman and to the audience. Patton and Logan who looked about as confused as Roman felt. Remus was behind them just munching on popcorn.
“Remember the valentine’s episode?” Janus asked, everyone nodded, still confused.
“Well Virgil never got around to showing you all how he’d go about wooing someone. So I figured he could show us with Roman as an example crush. Thomas is getting ready to ask Nico to be his boyfriend. Might as well have all the possibilities out there. Direct, from the heart, grand gesture… You two have already shown that my methods of evasion and deception won’t work on Nico. He seems to find Thomas charming when he’s honest about his flaws, so we aren’t even going there.
Virgil, you have the floor,” Janus smirked smugly before getting of stage and joining the others in the audience.
Virgil took in a deep breath and glanced up at Roman as he let it all out.
Clearly he was nervous.
“Okay… So first…” He took hold of Roman’s hand. And it wasn’t the first time, this shouldn’t be a big deal. But doing it in the open, with this unexplained tension in the air, and his own confession in his head, it made Roman beyond flustered.
“Is this okay?” Roman pulled his eyes away from their joined hands as Virgil gave his a squeeze, looking at his boyfriend’s face instead. He looked so nervous.
“Of course,” he sighed breathlessly smiling warmly at the boy who completely owned his heart.
“Good… Roman… You know I blow at putting my thoughts in words. But this is something I need to say. Because just showing you feels like it isn’t enough.” Virgil took a deep breath and tugged at Roman’s arm, turning them to face each other.
“I like you,” he murmured, looking down “I like everything about you even the parts that drive me nuts. I like the way I feel around you. I like arguing about stupid things and laughing about it later. I like making messes with you and not worrying about cleaning it up. I like how you make me forget how scared I am sometimes. I like being myself with you, and feeling like that’s enough. I…”
Virgil might have a lot more to say than that but Roman wasn’t giving him the chance.
He pulled Virgil in and kissed him soundly. Virgil didn’t even pause before returning the kiss.
There was a loud wolf whistle, Remus clearly, but other than that complete silence.
After an infinite moment they pulled apart and smiled at each other.
“You can’t say things like that and expect me to just not kiss you mi amor.” Roman could hear the loud gasps from their audience.
“Wait! Are you saying…?” Patton started.
“We’re official,” Roman confirmed excitedly before returning his attention to Virgil.
“And that means, I shall be planning our first date. Be ready at six this evening, wear something semi-formal. No ties no monkey suits. But something nice. Understand?” Roman checked, not wanting Virgil to worry too much about what to wear, but needing him to not wear the hoodie just this one time.
Virgil nodded. “I think I can do that.”
Roman turned back to their audience. “I’d almost forget. Padre, may I take Virgil out?”
Patton was still  in shock but nodded. “Of course, um have fun.”
“Told you all!” Remus shouted satisfied.
“How long?” Janus demanded, not a fan of secrets he isn’t privy to.
“Almost two months,” Virgil smiled making everyone go back in their head and see their interactions in a new light. They could see the moment they thought ‘How did we not figure this out,’ crossed their minds. Oh they’d been right. This was hilarious.
Roman chuckled fondly at their friends’ faces, before gently gazing down at Virgil and stroking his bangs out of his eyes/
“As much as it pains me to part my darling. I must prepare our evening.”
“Wait! Wait! You two… You two are boyfriends!” Patton exclaimed vibrating with excitement as that discovery finally registered. He jumped out of his seat and rushed over to the stage to hug them.
“Oh my goodness I’m so happy and proud!” he gushed. Both of them chuckled.
“Well, while I wish we had not wasted time on attempting to help you, I too am glad you have found happiness with each other,” Logan allowed.
Janus remained stubbornly silent, realizing Remus had known and had not told him at the very least.
“Thanks guys, that means a lot. And we were just messing with you guys, we weren’t keeping it a secret cause we didn’t trust you,” Virgil assured them as Patton finally let go and Roman put an arm around his waist, both excited that they could now do this in public.
“Oh you rascal! You really had us good. You have to tell me how you got together now though!” Patton insisted.
“Perhaps, once we return from our date Padre. Which I’ll have to start preparing for,” Roman reminded them reluctantly. He let go of Virgil’s waist and took his hand to place a kiss on it.
“I will count the minutes,” he muttered to his knuckles and exited stage left.
It took everything Virgil had not to start squeeling.
“Oh M G! We are going to pick out an outfit!” Patton giggled dragging Virgil along.
“I’ll lend you a hand. Obviously I have the most style,” Janus insisted as they too left the theater.
Logan sighed as though resigning himself to his fate. “Roman is bound to skip over practical details. I better ensure the date is a success or we’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Just admit you want to be part of it Nerd. That’s what I’m doing,” Remus grinned as he pulled Logan along.
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br4inr0tx · 3 years
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Hello! Um, I hope this isn't too weird that a random person is in your ask box asking for a matchup, and since I know some people can be uncomfortable with that you're free to delete or ignore my message...but if you're willing may I have an Obey Me Match-up please (if matchups are open of course)?
My name is Nox or Ohjuu, afab Agender (it/he/they pronouns), 5'7 feet, has short, fluffy red hair, and my body type is muscular with fluff (pretty thicc in the thighs but shhhhhh insecurities-). My signs are Capricorn (Sun), Gemini (Moon), and Cancer (Rising); my MBTI type is ESTJ / ISTJ and my personality type is 6w5. Just to add a lil tidbit my clothing aesthetic is grudge/flannel/depressed artist/skater boi if that makes any sense? Giving love language is 1, gift giving 2, acts of service, 3 physical touch (all depends on partner.) Receiving love language is 1, Physical Touch and Words of Affrimation (these two are at a tie) 2, Acts of service 3, Quality Time.
Describing my personality may be kinda tough because it always changes depending who I'm around with and everyone will have a different opinion of me no matter what I do. But I would like to think I'm open minded, empathetic, caring, generous, serious and quite, at least that's what I think and I'm usuallythe mom/quite/therapist friend, I should probably mention that despite this not many people come near or even talk to me, probablybecauseof my resting bitch face, but peopleusuallyleave me be, which is good in some cases. Though those are the basic points to myself, however I can't just ignore my bad qualities either, I'm quick to anger depending on the situation, I'll stand up for others but i won't stand up/will take the blame for myself, I'm self sacrificing (I heard told I do that but I just mainly do it on command, to my I do it because it's my way of proving that I care for someone or that I would rather get hurt myself rather than them), I have little to no confidence in myself albeit I actually try to stay that way, and I'm a bit self depreciating....a lot (though that's in private or I make jokes about it-)Though even though I am like this, for self depreciation, and opiate mindset is what I need (Me = self depreciating, Partner = hopefully not the same). And I feel a bit of a cluster fuck when it comes to me or my personality (having wrath actually kinda makes me feel worse because I kind have trauma over people with wrath and knowing I have it makes me feel horrible.)
Hobbies? Well I don't have many but when I'm not on burnout I really like to draw a lot, it helps especially when I need to vent out something (seeing art that was drawn out of sadness or anger you can tell and it's kinda creepy how it does that.) Also coaplay is a favorite pass time as well! Though I don't do it too often, but when I do it's really fun! And finally in 3rd place I have gaming, I wouldn't really call myself a gamer but there are a couple games that peak my interest (Genshin Impact, Pokémon, Hallow Knight are some.) Honorable mentions are Hiking/Walking (I actually mean that), watching some shows/anime, and idk daydreaming I guess?
I should probably mention a few things like interests that hasn't already been mentioned in hobbies. I like to cook, I think I'm a pretty good cook, so I do it, I mostly do savory stuff and I usually like the food spicy though usually my friends/family can't really handle something more than mild, which makes me sad. I actually have an interest in animal science and I hope to become a veterinarian or at least someone that works with animals and if we're talk about animals, dogs or cats? I have to pick both (though exceptoon if the dog is big, I love big dogs), but I really can't choose, but if I get a third option I choose snakes. I use to have an instrest in poetry, but I'm stoped for a bit because not many people like dark poetry (I never really write lighthearted poetry because it always end up being dark even without me trying-.)
Quirks? Not a BNHA reference but I should mention some more things about myself, I'm sensitive to light and crowds, the light makes my eyes hurt and kinda faint and crowds just get me worked up and my flight responses kinda kick in (I usually try to keep my room as dark as possible and secluded because of this.) I kinda have poor memory, and sometimes I remember stuff and sometimes I don't, I have some tics that don't appear too often but when they do I usually make a hissing sound, a weird vocal sound, and with that comes some kind if head twitch, I can control it better in public but some of it slips and it's quite embarrassing. I WILL go into flight or fight mode if I'm being yelled or scolded at or if I hear yelling in general, depending on who it is I go with flight but I will go fight if needed, not only can't I not stand the loudness or tone but I usually don't need people criticizing, scolding, or hating me when I can perfectly do it myself. I shouldalso mention I'mtired almost all the time, even when I sleep well, I just feel sluggish a lot and I just wish I could sleep but I really don't like it because I know I need to get work done but motivation is coming slow these days. Finally umm....also as a defense or regular manurism I hiss and growl, kinda like a cat and/or wolf, usually confuses people enough for me to get away in situations but I sometimes like to do it when I'm angry or when to fuck with people.
And uhhhh yeah that's it from me! I really really really hope this wasn't too much information or if I wrote something down that was triggering OR that I was being a but too self depreciating. Anyways I really hope you have a good day!!
You sound really sweet, Nox. My messages are always open if you do need to talk, so please don’t hesitate.
Your Obey Me! matchup is.. Beelzebub!!
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Not only do you two act similar, you look similar. Sense you do have that similar style, I recommend stealing his clothes. He’d literally melt seeing you in them.
Beel really appreciates quality time. Ideally you two would be snuggles up in your room ( Not really his, sense he sleeps in the same room as Belphie ) watching a movie you pick. Obviously there’s snacks involved.
Beel isn’t really a complainer, or seem like someone who’s constantly begging for attention. If you want your alone time, he’ll give it to you without question. You won’t need to waste to much energy on him. Rather, I think it’d be more of you coming to him for advice, which is never a bad thing.
You’re so selfless and self sacrificing, Beel gets a little scared to leave your side in Devildom. He doesn’t want you to get hurt out here, even if you don’t mind, and always seems to take the punches for you.
He doesn’t mind your self deprecating humor until it gets to a point where he thinks something is dangerous that you said. He’ll question you about it. Your self esteem is something he doesn’t know how to control. He likes to cuddle, and make this a self care day for you and get you all your favorite comfort foods and blankets.
Beel isn’t self deprecating himself. He’s confident enough to live his life out. Of course there’s times where he feels down, but those are far in between. He’d just demand snuggles and popcorn while watching a movie you picked.
Your drawings are really neat to him. He always likes to peek over at what your doing and compliment you at your work. As for cosplaying, he’s actually really interested! Putting all those outfits together and makeup..it looks so cool. He’ll probably cosplay with you if you ask nicely, but it’ll probably be you do all the wig and makeup stuff. He doesn’t know how to game much, but I’m sure he’ll do it if you ask. As for hiking Beel likes to be active as much as he can, so he’s willing to go out on walks with you.
Good cook you say? 🤨
As you should know, this man can and will eat all your food. I don’t need to say much more.
You see your hobbies go really well with Levi, but I was afraid that he’d have to many problems or be to whiney for you, that’s why I didn’t end up going with him.
Beel loves you for the way you are, tics and all. He knows you don’t like to go out so he ends up recording his football games and let’s you watch them on tape instead. Hopefully that’ll help?
He does a lot of outdoorsy things for you, so you don’t need to. It might be unhealthy, but he’s trying to not make you uncomfy. If you persuade that you want to go out then he’ll be by your side, ready to catch you if you have any panic attacks outside or what not. Or even he’ll have a dance battle with some random demon on the street for your honor idk man.
He tries to see you smile and happy. It’s what he longs for. Are good boy just loves that look..
— coii
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jessie-lou · 3 years
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To-Do List Tips for people with brains like mine
So I know that a lot of people tell adhders not to use to-do lists because it’s too easy to put everything on them and then get overwhelmed. And that unfinished to-do lists can become a big source of shame. But personally? I’ve never been able to make any other daily planner system work for me long-term. 
To-do lists may not be perfect but I have figured out some tweaks that make them way better for me (including shame reduction!). So here’s my system. 
I use a notebook rather than sticky notes. It gives me more room and I like to hang onto previous lists for at least a while in case I need to refer back to something or want to look at my progress. 
I definitely do keep the “don’t put everything on there” thing in mind. One way I keep the list narrowed down is to (mostly) only list things that I am at risk of forgetting to do. I’m not gonna forget to brush my teeth in the morning, but I may forget my weekly phone call to my uncle.
For things that I do try to do each day/most days, I purposefully don’t write them down in the same order every day. It helps keep me engaged with the list, makes me pay attention. 
I retroactively add the things I did do. Some days just do not go according to plan. In the morning I think I am going to clean the house and read. But in the end I actually studied Spanish and took a long walk. It happens. Write it down. Just because the day didn’t go as planned, doesn’t mean the day was wasted. Which brings me to...
I write down the fun stuff! We think of to-do lists as being for productivity only and nothing fun can go on them. But that’s boring. I not only like adding the fun things I do in hindsight (like a mini journal entry) but I also try to frequently put something enjoyable in my plan as a way of setting aside that time for myself to just be happy. 
I also add little notes and doodles as I go. Some notes are more utilitarian (”Make X appointment - [Note about when the now-made appointment will be]”). Others are more reflective or reactive, again like a mini journal entry. The non-utilitarian notes help keep me engaged and make the process of creating and completing lists more rewarding for my happy chemical starved brain. 
Also branching off from #4, on days when absolutely nothing gets done, I will scratch stuff out and add an explanation. I’m prone to headaches, so they frequently stop me from finishing everything. The important thing here is to write out an explanation in a very forgiving tone. Criticizing myself isn’t gonna do me any good in the moment or later on. Because if I ever go back and see all those unfinished items and no notes (or a self-depreciating note), I may think “ah, I didn’t do anything that day. Must be because I’m so undisciplined and lazy.” Uh, no. It’s because my head felt like it had an ice pick sticking out of it. Shit happens.    
I think that’s about it. I may add to this later if I think of something else I do. Or if I come up with new tweaks to my current system. Maybe this is common sense stuff, but if it helps anyone else, that’s great. :) 
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Hello! So I saw that this account was fairly new and while I was scrolling through matchups I found your account and decided why not? So if it's alright with you, may I request an Obey Me Match-up?
My name is Nox or Ohjuu, afab Agender (he/it/they pronouns), 5'7 feet, has short, fluffy red hair, and my body type is muscular with fluff (pretty thicc in the thighs but shhhhhh insecurities-). My signs are Capricorn (Sun), Gemini (Moon), and Cancer (Rising); my MBTI type is ESTJ / ISTJ and my personality type is 6w5. Just to add a lil tidbit my clothing aesthetic is grudge/flannel/depressed artist/skater boi if that makes any sense? Giving love language is 1, gift giving 2, acts of service, 3 physical touch (all depends on partner.) Receiving love language is 1, Physical Touch and Words of Affrimation (these two are at a tie) 2, Acts of service 3, Quality Time.
Describing my personality may be kinda tough because it always changes depending who I'm around with and everyone will have a different opinion of me no matter what I do. But I would like to think I'm open minded, empathetic, caring, generous, serious and quite, at least that's what I think and I'm usuallythe mom/quite/therapist friend, I should probably mention that despite this not many people come near or even talk to me, probablybecauseof my resting bitch face, but peopleusuallyleave me be, which is good in some cases. Though those are the basic points to myself, however I can't just ignore my bad qualities either, I'm quick to anger depending on the situation, I'll stand up for others but i won't stand up/will take the blame for myself, I'm self sacrificing (I heard told I do that but I just mainly do it on command, to my I do it because it's my way of proving that I care for someone or that I would rather get hurt myself rather than them), I have little to no confidence in myself albeit I actually try to stay that way, and I'm a bit self depreciating....a lot (though that's in private or I make jokes about it-)Though even though I am like this, for self depreciation, and opiate mindset is what I need (Me = self depreciating, Partner = hopefully not the same). And I feel a bit of a cluster fuck when it comes to me or my personality (having wrath actually kinda makes me feel worse because I kind have trauma over people with wrath and knowing I have it makes me feel horrible.)
Hobbies? Well I don't have many but when I'm not on burnout I really like to draw a lot, it helps especially when I need to vent out something (seeing art that was drawn out of sadness or anger you can tell and it's kinda creepy how it does that.) Also coaplay is a favorite pass time as well! Though I don't do it too often, but when I do it's really fun! And finally in 3rd place I have gaming, I wouldn't really call myself a gamer but there are a couple games that peak my interest (Genshin Impact, Pokémon, Hallow Knight are some.) Honorable mentions are Hiking/Walking (I actually mean that), watching some shows/anime, and idk daydreaming I guess?
I should probably mention a few things like interests that hasn't already been mentioned in hobbies. I like to cook, I think I'm a pretty good cook, so I do it, I mostly do savory stuff and I usually like the food spicy though usually my friends/family can't really handle something more than mild, which makes me sad. I actually have an interest in animal science and I hope to become a veterinarian or at least someone that works with animals and if we're talk about animals, dogs or cats? I have to pick both (though exceptoon if the dog is big, I love big dogs), but I really can't choose, but if I get a third option I choose snakes. I use to have an instrest in poetry, but I'm stoped for a bit because not many people like dark poetry (I never really write lighthearted poetry because it always end up being dark even without me trying-.)
Quirks? Not a BNHA reference but I should mention some more things about myself, I'm sensitive to light and crowds, the light makes my eyes hurt and kinda faint and crowds just get me worked up and my flight responses kinda kick in (I usually try to keep my room as dark as possible and secluded because of this.) I kinda have poor memory, and sometimes I remember stuff and sometimes I don't, I have some tics that don't appear too often but when they do I usually make a hissing sound, a weird vocal sound, and with that comes some kind if head twitch, I can control it better in public but some of it slips and it's quite embarrassing. I WILL go into flight or fight mode if I'm being yelled or scolded at or if I hear yelling in general, depending on who it is I go with flight but I will go fight if needed, not only can't I not stand the loudness or tone but I usually don't need people criticizing, scolding, or hating me when I can perfectly do it myself. I shouldalso mention I'mtired almost all the time, even when I sleep well, I just feel sluggish a lot and I just wish I could sleep but I really don't like it because I know I need to get work done but motivation is coming slow these days. Finally umm....also as a defense or regular manurism I hiss and growl, kinda like a cat and/or wolf, usually confuses people enough for me to get away in situations but I sometimes like to do it when I'm angry or when to fuck with people.
And uhhhh yeah that's it from me! I really really really hope this wasn't too much information or if I wrote something down that was triggering OR that I was being a but too self depreciating. Anyways I really hope you have a good day!!
Hiya! Thanks for sending in a request! And don't worry about it you didn't write too much! I hope you have a lovely day/night too! (^_^)
I'd match you with...
Mammon
I think that you and Mammon would work really well together since you've added that your love language for giving is acts of service and physical touch which Mammon is definitely touch starved. And even just small things like touching his shoulder while talking to him or to get his attention would make him a bit happier. As for the acts of service, Mammon is normally the one asking for things like if he needs help with studying. Having some just do something for him or ask instead of him vouln-telling someone to help would kinda confuse him though he'd be happy.
Mammon being Mammon is a tsundere, this means you'll likely be spending a lot of time around him while he says he there because he could tell you wanted him around or something like that. He'd try to help you where he can and do little things he notices, and although he's not the best with words he'd try his hardest to comfort you.
Being the mom/therapist friend would definitely come in handy when with Mammon since he's not great with keeping his impulses and strange schemes in check. Mammon could use someone to just talk to about his feeling and the bullying of his brothers. Being able to have someone who cook would definitely help his eating habits since he eats a lot of cup ramen (I remember something say that in game) since he’s not to great of a chef himself. 
I feel like Mammon would be so soft for you, he'd be absolutely terrible at hiding but he'd try in public and in front of his brothers. Mammon's happy watching you cosplay or draw. He might request you try and show him how to do it cause it can't be that hard right? But he'd definitely try and play some of the games you play and suggest some you two might be able to play together. He would definitely get confused by Genshin and how much stuff there is to keep track of. He'd most likely just follow you around trying to help you kill stuff.
I can’t imagine see Mammon not liking any of your pet preferences since I feel like he like dogs more but would totally be chill with a cat. I think you might scare Mammon with you poetry depending on how dark you write each particular piece. He’d be supportive but just don’t read them to him before bed. 
The biggest problem with being with Mammon is how loud he can get, he doesn’t really notice when he does so you’ll probably have to bring it to his attention if you want him to quite down. If he ever saw or sensed that you were starting to go into your flight response when in a public area he’d pull you into him or pick you up and run off to a much more secluded area. Lastly there’s no way he’d really mind your ticks and your quirks he might question it a bit at first but if you just explain it he be fine, still might not get it but won’t really question it further. 
Thank you so much for the matchup! I hope you liked it! Any feedback would be great!
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revisionaryhistory · 4 years
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Three Days ~ 1
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~*~Sebastian~*~
"Where are the fucking chocolate chips?" Oh, shit! Did I say that out loud? I cut my eyes to each side and thankfully didn't see anyone. I'd been searching this aisle for-fucking- ever. The sign says "Baking Needs". Chocolate chips go in cookies. Cookies are baked. Therefore, chocolate chips should be in the aisle marked "Baking Needs”. Should be, but I can't fucking find them.
I about jumped out of my skin when I felt a hand on my elbow.
A soft female voice quickly said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."
This grocery trip is getting better and better. I guess there was someone in the aisle with me. I'm in long baggy athletic shorts, a black t-shirt, and a zippered hoodie with the hood up covering an old baseball cap. I was suddenly very aware that I look like a homeless guy who wandered into a Wegman's on the rich side of town.
I closed my eyes and mentally kicked myself in the ass before I turned around to meet the voice. Please, let it be a nice old lady.
And... nope. She's a little younger and shorter than me. Her long light brown hair has blonde highlights and hung in messy waves over a Pearl Jam tour shirt. I stopped there and focused on her bright green eyes. She's pretty. Says the slightly scary homeless guy.
I'm supposed to respond. Say something, Sebastian. "No, you didn't. Well, you did, but just because I thought no one was here to see me talking to myself."
"Oh, good." Her soft pink lips curved up at the sides. She has a very pretty smile. One that lights up her face. "Can I help you find something? You seem a little lost."
Yep, she thinks I'm a lost homeless guy. Well, that's the best case scenario. Her voice is soft, quiet, and soothing. Not afraid. More like she doesn't want me to be. Hmm.
"No, I'm fine. Thank you."
"Ok." She smiled and nodded sympathetically before turning around.
I knew my answer was wrong as I was speaking. I should fix it. "Actually, if you wouldn't mind.” She turned back toward me with raised eyebrows. I proceeded to verbal vomit all over her. "This isn't my grocery store. I'm up from the city helping my parents unpack from a move. Mom wants to make some fudge and sent me here." I pointed up to the sign. "I thought chocolate chips would be in baking needs."
She smiled and her head bounced as she talked, "They are." She pointed down the aisle. "The other half of the baking aisle."
I felt my cheeks getting hot and knew they were turning red. I fought the urge to smack myself on the forehead. Instead I grimace and shook my head a little, "I didn't know they were halved. This is embarrassing."
"Not at all. It's not your store." She put her hand barely on my arm again, directing me. "This way."
As soon as we started walking she took her hand away. I wished she wouldn't have. I walked with her down the grocery aisle. A couple of things were going through my mind. She's even prettier than I first thought. Her eyes are striking. They have a circle of dark around the green.   Her face is chiseled, but soft. I know, those two don't go together, but they do. She’s maybe got on mascara. Blush? Hell, I don’t know. Too often anymore women are caked in things that leave stains on my shirt. She doesn’t. She’s pretty. I keep going back to her being pretty. Very pretty.
Past the superficial, she seems kind. She offered to help a complete stranger. A rather sketchy looking one. And anytime I've said something self depreciating she refuted it with her tone of voice even more than her words. It's not often I run into a genuinely kind person. Sure, I know they exist, but me being me I struggle to believe it when I see it. I'm not so jaded to believe people put on act because of who I am. It's just that because of who I am it's harder to just meet someone and have them be real. They're more anxious than me and I'm making an effort to calm them, relax them, and be kind. So they're not being very genuine and it's hard to know if someone is kind if they're seriously trying not to shit themselves.
I walked with the kind and very pretty women to find chocolate chips. I should say something. Maybe salvage my self esteem. "I'm guessing this is your grocery."
"I'm here every week." She looked back at me, "Your parents just moved here?"
"Yes. They bought a house out by the river."
Excitement lifted her voice, "The old Blanchard place?"
I shrugged, "No idea."
"Deck over looking the pool. Pool house. Gorgeous view of the river and mountains."
How does she know the house my parents bought? Before I could ask, she answered. "Small town, big house, old family." She stopped and pointed at the shelf. "Chocolate chips."
Half a wall of chocolate chips. Shit. I laughed, "That's a lot of chips." I scanned and grabbed the dark chocolate ones. "Thank you."
She nodded and smiled, "What else is on your list?"
I smiled back, "Marshmallow cream and evaporated milk."
She took a few steps and pointed again, "Voila."
"Wow, that was easy. I should have found you sooner. I was pacing that other half an aisle searching each fucking row for a good ten minutes."
I'm a little disappointed this didn't take longer.
"Glad I could help."
I turned and slowly started in the direction of the check out, "Hope I didn't disrupt your shopping trip."
She held up a bottle of honey, "All I needed."
I hadn't noticed she had any thing in her hand. Now that I get a chance to look I noticed they're pretty too. Her nails are painted a light pastel blue. "Tea or baking?"
"Tea."
"I'm more of a coffee guy."
"Oh, I need my morning coffee. I like evening tea to wind down from the day."
"I should try that."
"Tea's in row six. Front half." Her eyes sparkled with laughter.
"Ha fucking ha." We were both laughing as we got to the self check out lanes.
She went first and waited for me. We walked out together, stopping away from the door. I turned to face her and noticed her pink lips were a little shiny and made me want to kiss her. I wanted to see if her lips were as soft as they looked and find out the flavor of her lip gloss. Luckily, I recognized this as wildly inappropriate. I tamped down the thoughts and spoke, "Thank you again for the help."
"No problem." Her voice trailed off and she raised her eyebrows.
"Oh!" I finally understood why she was looking at me strangely and put my hand on my chest, "I'm Sebastian."
She pulled her eyebrows down then her eyes went wide with recognition. Then she did something very unexpected. She started laughing. "Nice to meet you, Sebastian. I'm Emiliana."
"Emiliana." I repeated. “Sorry, I've never heard that name before.”
"Few have.”
She smiled, but I felt self conscious about what I'd said. I put my hand on hers, "I didn't mean anything. It's a pretty name, unusual. Do you go by Emiliana?"
"Emma." She laughed again, "Do you go by Sebastian, Seb, Bastian?"
"I answer to them all. Friends call me Seb. Sebastian is kinda formal and my mom calls me when I'm being bad or someone doesn't know what to call me. Nobody calls me Bastian, but you can try it. Sounds like flirting, slightly dirty." I'm flirting. I almost laugh at myself. I'm standing outside a grocery flirting with a women I met five minutes ago in the baking aisle. Someone should make this a movie.
Her face screwed up. "Which do you want me to use?"
"Don't care, which ever feels right. I'm not bothered by you trying them out until you pick one." Actually, I thought that sounded fun. Wait. What do I want her to use? She's going to be using my name. She's flirting back.
Emma laughed and that made me smile. "Weird confession for just meeting."
I looked away then back. "I'm stalling. Trying to work up the courage to ask you to dinner tonight. I'm close, almost there."
"I think you just did."
I looked around, looking for words. "Yeah, I guess I did. Badly." We both laughed. I put a hand on her shoulder. "I get anxious when I'm doing something unexpected or around strangers. I'm usually pretty good at reigning my self in."  I took a deep breath and let it out, "Emma, how about dinner tonight? You'll have to pick the place. I know nothing around here." I waved one hand in the air as I said the last part.
I watched her eyes sparkle in green and gold when she answered, "I'd love to have dinner with you, Sebastian."
"Great!" I felt genuine excitement. It had been a long time since I'd basically been on a blind date in the country side. Long, like never. "Pick you up or meet there?" I'm pretty sure she knows who I am, but she doesn't actually know me. I want her to decide what she's comfortable with.  I'm not going to assume she trusts me with her home address.
"You can come get me. You made it here so you can find me. I'm about three blocks away." She pointed to a path at the side of the parking lot. "Cuts right through to my neighborhood."
"Did you walk here?"
She nodded her head with a smile, "Only for light loads when I forget things."
"Can I drive you home? Then I'll know where to get you later."
"Good idea, Seb."
I'm amused that's she's literally trying out calling me different names. Can't wait for Bastian and I actually hate being called Bastian. I lead her to my mom's SVU and open to door for her. I tossed the bag in the back before starting the car. I looked over at her, "Which way?"
Emma directed me out of the parking lot onto the main road. From there it was a quick drive. I barely straightened out from one turn when she was telling me to turn again. I pulled into the driveway of the end unit on a row of condominiums. Hers was yellow with white trim and a bright red door. From the roof lines it looked like the two story had vaulted ceilings. For some reason, I thought the quaint yet contemporary home fit her.
"This is cute." I held my hand out in the direction of the condo. "I know you said it was close, but I'm disappointed it was this close." I emphasized the second to last word.
She smiled, "Convenient and quick."
"No conversation time." I pushed out my bottom lip in a pout.
She smiled and patted my forearm, "What time for dinner?"
“Now too early? Wait, I need to shower and change.” I pulled out the sides of my jacket.
“Oh, I don't know, I like this disheveled thing you've got going on.”
“Funny.” She's smirking at me. That's sexy as fuck. I glanced at the clock on the dash and did quick math, “Um, six? What time do you usually have dinner?”
“Six is good.” She slid out of the SUV and peeked back inside, “I'm excited. Thank you for asking me to dinner, Bastian.”
Fuck, I like her.  
Back at mom’s I left the SUV by the side door instead of pulling it around to the garage in back. Bounding through the kitchen door, I dropped the bag on the counter and kissed my mom's cheek.
She was washing up and dried her hands while looking at me. "What have you gone and done? You've the look you got as a teenager when you'd been up to mischief."
There was no sense even pretending. "I've got a date. Dinner. Tonight."
"You've been here twenty four hours. How do you have a date?"
I shrugged, "It's a gift." She rolled her eyes at me. "She helped me find the chocolate chips."
Mom looked me up and down with a sneer on her face. "You look homeless."
"I know." My voice was exasperated and I held my hands out to the side.
"She could be a scary stalker."
"Maybe, but I'll go back to New York and leave you deal with her."
I helped mom make the fudge, even cleaning up the saucepan before heading to the shower. There was a small apartment in the pool house that was to be my space when I was here. Beacon was about an hour and half away from the city. I could visit more often and my own space would make a nice get away.
I stood in front of the bathroom mirror after my shower. I ran my hand over my face trying to decide if I should shave or not. It would depend on what I wore. Fuck. I don't have date clothes. My towel fell off while I was tossing things from my bag to the bed. I stood there naked, hands on my hips, looking at my options. Shorts. Shorts. Jeans. Jeans. Multiple T-shirts. A Henley. Jeans, Henley, and my low cut boots it is! Decided not to shave and just ran some product through my hair as I headed out the door.
The drive back to her place gave me time to get rid of the nerves and get excited. Never been on a first date I wasn't nervous about. Will you have anything to talk about? Will there be something important you disagree on? Will the initial attraction fade to friendship? And what about her saying or doing that one thing - a deal breaker. For me that would be rude to wait staff, racist, homophobic, a Trump supporter, and laughing like Janice on Friends. I don't think my list is too much to ask.
AO3
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blindkarakul · 4 years
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Long Survey - M’yhe Tia
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BASICS.
FULL  NAME :  M’yhe Tia NICKNAME :  Youta, Little Sheep  AGE :  25 Summers BIRTHDAY : The beginning of spring (Apr 13) ETHNIC  GROUP :  Seeker of the Sun / Keeper of the Moon NATIONALITY :  Gyr Abanian LANGUAGE / S :  Huntspeak, Eorzean (Common and Ala Mhigan Dialects) SEXUAL  ORIENTATION :  Homosexual Homoromantic RELATIONSHIP  STATUS :  In a Relationship; Ninka’ir Tayuun HOME  TOWN / AREA :  The Lochs, Gyr Abania CURRENT  HOME : None; Lives with mate in the Lavender Beds PROFESSION :  Diviner, Fortune Teller, Oracle, Ritualist, Bounty Hunter, Absolute Dumbass
PHYSICAL.
HAIR :  Sandy Rose-Blond EYES : Pale Blue FACE :  Thin, Scrappy COMPLEXION :  Deep Tan BLEMISHES :  None SCARS :  Lashing scars across his back, a band around his ankle, a few deep cuts in his abdomen TATTOOS :  Seer’s tattoos around his entire body, white ink HEIGHT :  5 fulms, 3 ilms. WEIGHT :  Trying to steadily pack on some weight-- 118 ponzes BUILD : Lithe and agile, recovering from malnourishment.  FEATURES :  Chalky face paints, bright white eyes, Claws, Snaggletooth Grin ALLERGIES :  n/a. USUAL  HAIR  STYLE :  Cut and groomed short, braids woven at the side of his face and stained red USUAL  FACE  LOOK :  Smudged on face paint, a coy grin USUAL  CLOTHING :   Free and flowing, rough and tumble but dependable
PSYCHOLOGY.
FEAR / S :  Whips, Dogs Barking, Maggots, Infection, Loneliness. ASPIRATION / S :  Becoming a Fist of Rhalgr. Happiness. A home. Found Family. POSITIVE  TRAITS :  Wise, Caring, Light-Hearted, Fun-Loving, Mischevious, Adventure-seeking NEGATIVE  TRAITS :  Hotheaded, Stubborn, MISCHEVIOUS, Self-depreciating MAJOR ARCANA :  The Hanged Man ZODIAC :  Aries, the Ram TEMPERAMENT :  Sanguine  SOUL  TYPE :  The Spiritualist ANIMAL :  The Sheep VICE HABIT / S :  Bullheaded Adventure; they rarely think of the consequences, and would rather have fun first and say sorry later. Very defensive about this. FAITH :  Worship of the Twelve + Tribe Specific Religion; M’yhe’s branch of the M believed in the intrinsic spirit of all things. Everything as it is known was formed by the hands of the twelve, and is derivative of what were once larger spirits. Communication and appeasal of these spirits grants good fortune. Angry spirits that die unhappy turn into spectres, and while the nature of an angry spectre is harmful and dangerous, it is a terrible thing to kill a spirit rather than give it the chance to find peace. GHOSTS ? :  Yes. AFTERLIFE ? :  Yes. REINCARNATION ? : Yes. ALIENS ? :  Maybe? He doesn’t often think about it. EDUCATION  LEVEL :  Has never been in a school, but has had various tutors over the course of his life.
FAMILY.
FATHER :  Unknown Keeper of the Moon; whereabouts unknown MOTHER :  M’iraa Vuehe, deceased (haunts as a spectre) SIBLINGS : M’iaho Nunh, adoptive brother, alive. M’koyo Tia, adoptive brother, alive. EXTENDED  FAMILY :  M’ahsasha Vuehe, adoptive mother, deceased. M’ahli Jedte, adoptive mother, unknown. M’rhaxis Tia, tribe brother, alive. M’zhrii Zurrie, tribe sister, alive. M’zhbi Zurrie, tribe sister, alive. J’kebun Tia, half-tribe cousin, alive.  NAME MEANING / S :  ‘Yhe’ is an utterance in M Tribe Huntspeak, often used to indicate positive affirmation, or sometimes joy.
FAVORITES.
BOOK :  Anything Ninka’ir reads to him DEITY :  RHALGR, the Destroyer HOLIDAY :  Winter’s Knell MONTH :  ‘Budding Season’ in Gyr Abania SEASON :  Spring PLACE :  Ninka’ir’s Apartment + The Velodyna River WEATHER :  Warm Sun and Cooling Breezes SOUND / S:  Ninka’ir’s Voice and Music SCENT / S :  Rose, Chamomile, and Frankincense TASTE / S :  Savory and/or spicy FEEL / S :  Silk and/or Leather NUMBER :  What The Fuck Come After Seven? (n/a) COLORS :  Red, Purple, Blue, Black, White.
EXTRA.
TALENTS :  Fighting, Charisma, and Healing. BAD  AT :  Being decent. And most tasks that require eyesight. TURN  ONS :  Ninka’ir Tayuun TURN  OFFS :  Whips!! Shit, dude. HOBBIES :  Training, Painting, Fortune Telling QUOTE : “A hurrrting hearrrt is not so weak as you have been lead to believe.”
MUN QUESTIONS.
Q1 :  If you could write your character your way in their own movie,  what would it be called,  what style would it be filmed in, and what would it be about? A1 :  Blood Moon; an action packed drama about M’yhe’s life growing up and the pitfalls that make him eager to seek happiness and redemption in his current life. 
Q2 :  What would their soundtrack/score sound like? A2 :  IT... VARIES... But honestly I’ve always been a fan of folk music, and so has M’yhe. Music by Blanco White is pretty close.
Q3 :  Why did you start writing this character? A3 :   I made M’yhe around 6 months into having started FFXIV. My ex and I were trying a new server, and making alts there. I had a previous M tribe character, M’iaho, who I made because the more I learned about the plight of Gyr Abania, the more the concept of a tribe from Gyr Abania became interesting for me. But M’iaho was a very irresponsible Nunh who claimed his title by accident, and as fun as that was to play, I wanted someone who was a bit more grounded and grumpy. M’yhe was actually supposed to be a bunny from the Gold Saucer who just happened to be able to read fortunes AND was from Ala Mhigo, but I became really invested in him and his character. He was interesting to me because of his background in the occult, and so he just grew from there (and I ended up leaving the Bunny concept behind). He would always be my favorite go-to character that I would play when I needed to get into a place of destress. Because he was so seemingly carefree on the surface, his natural mischief made his interactions with others fun, and helped me branch out and find new friends when I needed it most. Toward the end of my relationship, I would use him as a crutch to give me a happy place to turn to. I placed so much love and work into him that when I finally made the decision to be free for myself, I took him with me. And while he grows, I continue to grow too. So... he’s a very personal character that was kind of born out of my subconscious desire to break away and be free. And now that we’re both in happier places, I’m relishing getting to play him growing as a person. World knows I am too.
Q4 :   What first attracted you to this character? A4 :  Honest to god I just wanted another catboy? But one that I could connect with more. The first two I made were fun, but not what I was looking for in terms of a character. Also yeah, all the above stuff too. I wanted to explore the concept of finding personal freedom after being in a place where I didn’t feel like I had much.
Q5 :  Describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse. A5 :  M’YHE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A LOT RUDER but I’m too soft to be terribly mean. Each time M’yhe makes a stupid life decision a little part of me dies.
Q6 :  What do you have in common with your muse? A6 :  We’re both adept tarot readers! But that was obvious. So less obvious is that we would both kill for oranges. (I can’t eat oranges though, sadly, because I’m allergic to them, so I get to live my citrus impulses through M’yhe). 
Q7 :  How does  your muse feel about  you? A7 :  Real talk I don’t think M’yhe would find me especially interesting and I don’t blame him.
Q8 :  What characters does your muse have interesting interactions with? A8 :  Because he’s such a charismatic character... really he can bounce off of just about anyone? But I really like the characters that are able to peel away his charismatic exterior and get to actually make him act as the kinder and softer person he can be deep down. I like the people who get him to say his cryptic wise quotes without a shred of sarcasm. M’yhe is a very manic character and can sometimes feel so on top of the world that when he’s grounded and serious are sometimes my favorite times to write him.
Q9 :  What gives you inspiration to write your muse? A9 :  Music, honest to god just me imagining scenarios... and also my lovely as FUCK Free Company, Nightraid. As well as Coeurl’s RP community as a whole. I mean, I know it’s cliche to say. But I have a lot of people there who plot and poke fun at scenarios with me, they always keep me on my toes and keep me thinking of the next story beat. They’re all amazing and lovely people, and while there are things I miss about being on a more populated RP server like Balmung or Mateus, Coeurl is my home and damn if it isn’t M’yhe’s too.
Q10 :  How long did this take you to complete? A10 :  Do I mention the fact that I finished like half of this and then took a 3 month hiatus or what
Tagged by: No one I stole this but I caN’T REMEMBER WHO I STOLE FROM.... I think @huntspeak​
Tagging: ANYONE WHO WANTS TO DO THIS! Also;
@akaiwakizaka @unatobajhiri​ @impure-ivory @sangria-fangs @donpom-house-of-alts  @of-shadow-and-storm @renofmanyalts@fakuboy@weaveroftruth @amurr-reha @rkhdaj-tia @khabataaq-buduga @ballade-du-mage  @ofmasters@divineseer-marcella @lavender-hemlock @yululu-and-co @sedatayuun @ritsuka-aoki  @an-honest-waltz​ @alusbeauregard​
(For a character of y’alls choice, for you multimuse buddies)
It’s been a while since I was really active, so I thought I’d do a big comprehensive on M’yhe’s character again!
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mx-ishikawa · 4 years
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Pieces of Us (1): Special
Hey there! more fanfiction from me, this time for The LEGO Movie! it was long overdue, but better late than never lmao. this franchise means so much to me, and I've been wanting to write out how my self-insert fits into the story for the longest time, but I wasn't sure how to do it. so I decided to break it up into snippets! this is the first, taking place during the speech scene in Cloud Cuckooland. after this, we'll start getting into the events of the second movie (and yes, Rex will eventually show up), but for now, here's the first meeting with Emmet!
           I had never seen anything like it in all my life.
           Cloud Cuckooland, filled to the brim with Master Builders from every realm, more excited than they had been in years. Joyous shouts of “The Piece of Resistance has been found!” echoed over and over. And I stood in the middle of all the celebration, completely bewildered.
           “I’ll be damned,” I breathed. “She actually did it.”
           When I first heard the news, I assumed Wyldstyle had found the Piece. After all, she was determined to become the Special, and had just left for Bricksburg, the last place in which the Piece was searched for as it was the riskiest, the day before. And now it had been found, who else could’ve done it? I was relieved that she didn’t get arrested, and looked forward to whatever plan she had in store to stop Lord Business.
           I discreetly made my way into the Dog, trying not to be noticed by the Master Builders. Even though Cloud Cuckooland claimed not to have any rules, I wasn’t sure if I’d get in trouble for being at a Master Builder meeting when I wasn’t actually a Master Builder myself. Despite my dad being a skilled Master Builder, I never could pick up the talent. I think the biggest reason is because a lot of Master Building involved clearing your mind to focus, and Man Upstairs knows I was never able to do THAT. If I can’t even turn my brain off long enough to fall asleep at night within a reasonable amount of time, how the hell was I supposed to do it to learn an entire skill? But that didn’t stop me from trying, as I continued to train whenever I could, which was hard when you risked capture by Lord Business.
           I picked a spot at the edge of the stands, sitting down in front of them and making myself as small as I could. I spotted my dad seated more obviously in the crowd, keeping mostly to himself as I did. I pulled out my sketchbook and began to doodle as I waited for the wizard Vitruvius to arrive with the Special. I looked around the Dog once more, and it was sad how few Master Builders were left uncaptured. I only hoped that the rest of them, led by Wyldstyle, would be able to free everyone.
           In many ways, I was jealous of Wyldstyle. She was so much cooler, smarter, tougher, stronger, and more attractive than I could ever hope to be. If anyone was fit to lead the Master Builders, it was her. It was no wonder she managed to get Batman of all people as a boyfriend. But my jealousy only gave me more reason to admire her, rather than hate her. No, I could never hate her, she’s done far too much for me. Though I couldn’t help but wish I could even begin to compare to her. Hell, wishing was all I could do.
           I was soon snapped out of my thoughts when Vitruvius made his way to the stand and addressed the crowd. Behind him, I saw Wyldstyle, Batman, Princess Unikitty, and an average-looking construction worker. Where had he come from? I didn’t recall seeing him at any previous Master Builder gatherings. He was looking around in innocent wonder, so he had probably never been in here before. He was then jolted out of his daze as Vitruvius spoke the words that many Master Builders had been waiting to hear for the past eight and a half years.
           “The Special has arisen.”
           Gasps and whispers were tossed back and forth as the news of the Special was officially announced, and I was shocked to see that all eyes were not on Wyldstyle, but the construction worker. He found the Piece? I couldn’t believe it wasn’t Wyldstyle. He looked up at everyone and appeared nervous, shifting his wide eyes a bit.
           After a brief tiff with Gandalf and Dumbledore, Vitruvius spoke once more. “The Special will now give an eloquent speech.” He moved out of the way to make room for the construction worker. He was hesitant to step forward. I noticed how unsure he looked. He looked down at his feet, messing with his hands a bit, before looking back up at the crowd. He just seemed so shy. Perhaps that’s what first drew me to him, as I had always found shy guys to be adorable. Vitruvius poked in one more time, probably to reassure the Special, who then finally stepped forward rather cautiously. It was unusually silent as he made his way to the stand. I could hear the echoes of his footsteps and small grunts as he made it up to the stand. His chest heaved as he braced himself to speak.
           “Hello!” he finally spoke, raising his hand in a wave. He began to rock back and forth on his heels a bit. “I’m Emmet.”
           Emmet, huh? That name was kinda cute. He was kinda cute. A small smile crept its way onto my face.
           “Oh, and this is the Piece of Resistance.” Everyone cheered as Emmet turned around to reveal the Piece of Resistance, stuck to his back! I was silent for a moment, wondering how that happened, before joining in on the cheering and clapping. Emmet looked around in amazement, as if he hadn’t expected so much praise. “Thank you…” And then, his nervousness seemed to fade away. “Well, uhhhh, I know that I, for one, am very excited, to work with you guys! To get into the Octan tower, find the Kragle, and put this thing on the thing! And I know it’s going to be really hard, but—”
           His speech was cut short when the sound of clanking metal suddenly filled the room. It was Metalbeard. Oh boy, he was probably here to tell the story of how he tried to sabotage Octan and ended up losing his body again, wasn’t he? As it turned out, he did just that, leaving Emmet in a state of mild distress. I tuned out most of Metalbeard’s story, having heard it multiple times before, and focused on Emmet. I had noticed how much more confident he had suddenly appeared right before he was interrupted, and just how expressive he was. But now he was recoiling, presumably wary of Metalbeard’s hulking stature.
           “So if ye think it be a good idea to return to that forsaken place, Special,” Metalbeard finished, “what idea have ye that be better than the ideas of one hundred of our fallen Master Builder brothers?”
           Emmet shuffled, struggling to find the answer. “Uhh… well technically, I’m not a Master Builder yet, but—”
           “WHAT?!” Metalbeard cried. The crowd fell into chaos, and my own mouth hung agape. He wasn’t a Master Builder? But I was sure that only a Master Builder could be the Special! Heck, I could’ve tried to become the Special! Not that I would be a good fit for that role. I didn’t have adequate leadership skills. I was snapped from my daze when Emmet spoke again.
           “Please, everyone, please!” he tried to calm everyone down. Something was thrown at him, but he dodged it. “Yes, it’s true.” His face took on a rather sad expression as he continued. “I may not be a Master Builder. I may not have a lot of experience fighting, or leading, or coming up with plans. Or having ideas in general. In fact, I’m not all that smart. And I’m not what you’d call a creative type. Plus, generally unskilled. Also, scared, and cowardly.” I was amazed at how strong Emmet’s voice was as he made all these self-depreciative claims. If he really was everything he said he was, then at least he had the balls to admit it. “I know what you’re thinking: he is the least qualified person in the world to lead us!” He paused for a minute, giving the crowd an unfittingly cheerful grin. “And you are right!”
           The crowd fell into whispers and gasps once more, but they weren’t hopeful this time. “This is supposed to make us feel better?” the Gill-Man hissed as the other Master Builders began throwing things at Emmet.
           “Well, there was about to be a ‘but’—”
           “You’re a butt!” Gandalf sneered. A sick feeling rose in my chest as the crowd became increasingly angry, some even walking out. This isn’t right! He might not be a Master Builder, but he did find the Piece! Qualified or not, at least give him a chance! Was I really the only one who admired Emmet’s honestly and hopefulness in his speech?
           “Why is everyone leaving?” Emmet cried, dodging everything thrown at him. “Come on, guys! We can still do this! Right?”
           The knot in my stomach grew. I saw Batman whispering something to Wyldstyle, who appeared unsure of this mess herself. Any trace of hope was drained from Emmet as his brows knitted together. He looked like he was about to cry. I heard the word “disappointment” from somewhere in the crowd, and that was when Emmet finally turned and trudged away, shoulders slumped in shame.
           That’s. It.
           I wanted to punch every Master Builder left in this room! I wanted to shout for everyone to stop and call them out for their harshness! What did Emmet do to be so cruelly rejected?! But I didn’t dare open my mouth. Instead, I made my way over to the shunned Special, making sure to tread lightly and avoid tossed objects. I had no idea what I was doing, but I had to do something.
           “Hey,” I began when I was close enough to Emmet. He looked up at me in surprise, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.
           “I uhh… I have faith in you.”
           “Really?” Emmet gasped.
           “Yeah, I mean, I’m not a Master Builder either, nor am I smart or skilled, but I’m also not as hopeful as you are, so… I think you’ll do good. Sorry everyone’s being a bunch of jerks.”
           Emmet made a small, sad chuckle. I wanted to hug him so badly. “It’s alright. At least it can’t get any worse.”
           That’s when I heard the sound of a giant orb crashing through the roof.
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kyotakumrau · 6 years
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PHY Vol.13 - interview with Kyo
You can get the magazine on Amazon or TOWER RECORDS!
'The Insulated World', the 10th album released almost 4 years after the previous one, was a huge surprise. Well, it's not like their previous work was full of gentle feelings, yet it never crossed my mind that this will become a work that will bring the sense of unity/identification of the band. Granted that they had the chance to reexamine the band's path with the best album and tours revolving around the past works, the songs made as they lightly walked over the past self are filled with the love for the band held by 5 people and the relationship between the band members. Now, why is it that they moved along with one vector without even one break? We have talked to each band member investigating for this feature.
(kyotaku: I typed it on my phone so let me know when you spot any typos, mistakes etc.)
My self denial was strong originally, but it might be the first time so far that I feel like blaming myself -- You've just completed the album, what do you think about it? Kyo: Speaking about the message in DIR EN GREY's music this album has the most extreme content. But saying that, there are various vectors so as a rule I can't say it's extreme... I guess it's closer to hardcore. -- The lyrics are like that. But what do you think about the music? Kyo: What to say... I can't explain well, but the current DIR EN GREY is here, just that. We were lacking songs so I have the impression that it was hard on everyone. -- What do you think is different with the previous album 'ARCHE'? Kyo: We made ARCHE letting out the new us while we were returning to our origins. But this time we created this album while only looking ahead. Yet, this ahead is not what everyone imagined. There were some reactions like 'eh? we're trying something like this?' Both music and the lyrics wise. -- I see. It's probably super subjective, but I think the feeling of the band is very strong. Kyo: Ah, I think so too. -- That act of going against the expectations, it's something that this band continues to do. So this time as well it ended up as a work different than I thought, but I don't feel quite betrayed. Kyo: Yeah, it might be like that. I don't have a feeling that I found something very new and original this time. It's also okay to have an expression in the usual shape, but I'm not like that. Having said that, I'd rather die than do something that could be easily understood by anyone like 'aah, it's like that'. So if I was to say what's new this time, for me it's how frankly I let the ominous feelings out. -- You mean aggravating or provoking things? Kyo: I feel that I wanted to release such things from inside of me. For someone who saw positivity or the world of light in ARCHE, 'huh they're going there?' - they have such a surprise waiting for them. Afterall, I opened the gate of light with that album, but past it was pitch dark... I feel it was like that. -- I agree. Kyo: I have sang such positive feelings in ARCHE, but in the end nothing changes... I had such ominous feel. No matter how hard I tried singing it, in the end I cannot transmit/communicate it. And this time that feeling was directed at myself. -- Ominous feeling? Kyo: Yes. It was heading my direction from before, but I think now it got lodged in much deeper place. Like 'not changing until now is my own fault'. No matter how desperately I was singing, no matter how much I tried to stay positive, I wasn't rewarded/didn't feel rewarded. Why is that? Why didn't I feel rewarded? When wondering about that I opened that gate of light and what was waiting for me on the other side was a question 'isn't it your own fault?'. 'The things you are wishing for are not impossible. Yet, aren't you lacking strenght?' - that's what I felt. -- Why did you think that? Kyo: I don't know. My self-denial was strong originally, I'm someone who doest think I'm someone special, but it might be the first time that I feel like blaming myself until now. So that's why this time there's no changing theme for each song, there's no expressing things in a round about way in lyrics. Anyway it's okay with the theme staying similar, so I felt I really had to let out things I was thinking. It felt like if I don't do that I will die. -- I thought that it became an album with very consistent lyrics. The words yore using also overlap, same as your singing. In short, it's like there's only one thing you want to say in this album. Kyo: Yeah. Also, when deciding the order of songs on the album, I had to have 'Keibetsu to hajimari' as the first song. I wanted to make it the first song lyrics-wise as well. -- So those songs are rebuking yourself or are self abandonment. In phrases '笑え そして見下せ・laugh and look down on me' or in '俺さえ死ねばいい・it would be fine if only I'd die'. (kyotaku: the first phrase appeared on the screen during 'Omae song' which turned out to be Keibetsu to hajimari) Kyo: Well. And I wanted to have 'Ranunculus' as the last song. As in no matter how much I scream how tough it is, singing it all the time on the album, in the end I want to see the light... like that. -- So you're scorning and denying yourself, but in the end you want an affirmation? Kyo: You can't live otherwise. -- Why do you have so much self-depreciation? Kyo: There are many reasons... afterall, aren't concerts and music one type of amusement? No matter how much I will hollow myself out expressing myself, no matter how much time I spend creating good things, it will only be a small part of other people's life... -- People have many ways of interpreting/accepting [art]. Kyo: Just like some people might only see what I do as worthless. I do actually think about music of some other artists I hear or some concerts that they are boring. But those artists might be spending their lifeforce doing that. -- That's true. Kyo: Thinking that, even if someone thinks what I do is worthless, in the end it will all come back to me. Until now I thought that when I couldn't convey my feelings to the other person it was because 'they just didn't understand'. -- And you turned that against yourself. Kyo: But even so... it's like I can't convey [the message]. I was thinking I will be understood someday, I will be able to convey what kind of person I am, but nothing changed. They just think I'm moody. People create this kind of image [of me] and think like that. -- But I don't think we can ever remove misunderstandings from interactions with other people. Kyo: Yet I can't help thinking that as I'm singing so honestly, shouldn't I be able to convey more? So even as I'm doing this for so long, I don't really feel like I'm being understood. It would be about one or two people out of thousand. Other people mostly don't understand me. -- I think that's quite a low estimate. Kyo: But that's what I think. Like 'in a year everyone will make a fun of me', 'everything will be gone'. Those are the feelings I'm directing at myself in this album. Like 'it's your own fault'. That's why I think it's a very hardcore album. But for those two people out of thousand who will understand me, for them I wanted to write the 10th songa 'Followers'. -- From that point the trend in the album is changing, right? A song sang in a medium tempo. Kyo: It's only this song and 'Ranunculus'. The only light, the lyrics I wrote for those very few people. So... normally, as I'm only doing that for a long time, even as the thing I want to say is gone it wouldn't turn strange. But in my case it won't be gone. It's a nice thing for someone in such position. Always having something inside of me exploding, being driven by some impulses, somewhere there is myself who's relieved (who can relax and be at peace)... but in the end it's hard/tiresome. -- That's true. Kyo: But if it's not tiresome, it wouldn't be Kyo... can you understand? If it's not tiresome it's not Kyo. -- It must be very vexing. Kyo: It is. But, there are almost no times when I'm someone else than a person called Kyo. It's also like that when I'm eating with friends. And there are times when I'm feeling sorry to my parents. -- Really? Kyo: I wrote about that in one song... but I will not say which one. But if my parent(s) would read that part/message in the lyrics I don't want them to think 'this is my fault'. Comparing to my previous lyrics many things are said very clearly, so I would like to say 'this is not your fault. Writing those things is a conclusion that came from my way of life, the environment that surrounds me.' Don't we often see it on the news how criminal's parents are apologising? I don't want to be seen like that so I wanted to clearly explain this. -- It seems like eventually you are steadily cornering yourself. As if it's a destiny. Kyo: I think so, too. But if it stays like that I don't feel alive. As the years go by it starts to feel like 'I! I!... I!'. It's like if I don't do what I want, it's not me. If I quit there - 'why do you live? what can you do?'- questions like those will come at me. -- I think that unless you quit DIR EN GREY you will always feel like that. Kyo: No, I think it would be the same even if I quit DIR EN GREY. -- And if you had abandoned the band and the name Kyo... Kyo: I think it could be avoided by not appearing in public, but as long as it's not like that I will always carry this burden. But if that would come true, everything I have managed to do would become nothing... -- And you completely deny yourself. Kyo: Yeah. That's why... should I continue being in the band or dissapear from public? there are only those two choices. If I wanted to live. It's included in the album's message, but if I wanted to live I would want to leave something behind. I'd want to leave some proof of living. So I'm leaving a proof as I do various things not only with DIR EN GREY but also with sukekiyo. If I don't leave many proofs that we lived, putting effort, doing our best.... I wouldn't be able to move forward. -- The number of people who understand that Kyo is a person like that, I think there are more of them than you think. Kyo: Of course I don't mean understanding everything about me. I'm simply happy that there are people who can get something from the things I'm creating. But... I really hate myself no matter what. I can't like myself. -- But you do feel strong emotions like joy when completing a good album? Kyo: I do. The working on the album took a very long time this time. I thought that as we finished the 'mode of ~' tours band will naturally enter a new place, but unexpectedly everyone was looking for 'what's next?'. But in the end I'm happy that we were brought in the same direction. Even as there's only one chorus and there's not much of melodic singing, I was told 'isn't that okay?'. I'm happy about that.
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blurhawaii · 4 years
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Yuletide 2019
dear yuletide writer,
hello and happy yuletide! this is my fifth year taking part and my longest letter yet so i’m just going to jump right in. the suggestions are guidelines. if you’ve got a great idea, go for it. i only ask that you steer clear of my dislikes.
feel free to go through my tumblr for each of these fandoms. i should have tags for them, tho your mileage may vary. i might even have more stuff on my side blog: here. likes:
dysfunctional relationships eg. codependency, messed up father/son dynamics, enemies to lovers, power imbalances.
found family
big loyalty kink. love it when trust is earned and kept.
praise kink
vulnerability in men
open and honest communication between partners
i love ot3s. it’s the journey of them getting together and making it work that interests me the most. or how an established pair goes about bringing in a third person.
stories set in canon. or a divergence of canon.
dark/bleak fics. don’t be afraid to drag characters through the mud. happy endings are welcome but i like the struggle.
i’m fine with anything from gen to porn but would be happiest with something in the middle. i love first times.
canon typical violence is fine and to be expected from some of my choices of fandoms.
detective stories/film noir
magical realism/cosmic horror. weird hints of it in an otherwise normal universe
redemption arcs
characters and relationships are more important than plot for me
dislikes:
AUs that are completely disconnected from canon e.g. coffee shop AUs.
established relationships
crossovers
genderbending
feminisation of male characters
fics that are entirely fluff
A/B/O fics
PWP
mpreg 
scat/watersports
first person fics (i have no problem with second person fics tho if you think that could work. they really wow me when done well.)
The Departed (2006) *Billy Costigan             *Sean Dignam
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one of my favourite films ever. i request it every year so you can't really go wrong with this as i am thirsty for anything. most of my love is for dignam and his tough love attitude towards his job and the undercovers he's responsible for. it's obvious he cares, i don't think you could do a job like that and not care, but those rare and few moments when he softens around billy --we need you, pal-- that's what i would like to see more of. i have written a couple of departed fics myself, centred around costigan/dignam, but in all honesty, i would be happy with anything involving them both. shipping is preferred but whatever you are comfortable with is fine. due to the nature of the film, i am perfectly comfortable with violence and the screwed up relationship they are bound to have. the friction born of the situation vs the fact that they need each other to get through this is what i am all about.
codependency, power imbalances and enemies to lovers tropes are abound here.
fics where billy lives are my usual go-to. the survivability of being shot in the head, that kind of stuff can be hand waved away in fic, and i'd love something that explores the angst of billy's ‘where the hell were you when i needed you’ reaction towards dignam following that ending.
or a canon divergence fic with their totally antagonistic relationship being front and centre. i just ask that there be an underlying level of affection, no matter how buried. when billy is undercover, there’s a special kind of relationship that comes with dignam and queenan being the only people he can talk to.
something i’ve never seen for this but would actually love: a time loop/groundhog day fic
Jurassic Park Original Trilogy (Movies)
*Sarah Harding                  *Ian Malcolm                  *Nick Van Owen
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i originally wasn’t going to ask for this again this year (i was lucky enough to get treated with a fic a couple of years ago) but then someone other than myself nominated nick van owen which surprised and delighted me and i figured why the hell not.
my passion here is the ot3 potential. i view these three in the same way i view the trio in the first film, meaning i see them as three people who have bonded over a traumatic experience and come out of it forever linked in some way. they spend the entire film looking out for each other and keeping each other safe, and they all separately take care of ian’s daughter at one point and i am fascinated by this and how that could continue in the future. (in fact, i love stories where adults treat kids like adults, not talking down to them–see any shane black film.) i’m looking for an actual relationship between them but would be happy with anything that showcased a connection with every side of this triangle.
anything post-film with them dealing or not dealing with what happened would be amazing. there are quite a few fics based around this idea for the first film’s trio, i’d love to see something like that for these three. (i’ve always been kind of bitter about the way nick just disappears for the last act but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ that’s what fics are for, i guess.)
i don’t like the jurassic world films but i’m fine with fics that take that future into account. a lot of the trauma for these characters comes from the idea that the parks still exist and continue to fuck people up.
Godless (TV 2017)
*Roy Goode                 *Bill McNue                 *Alice Fletcher
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i’m a massive fan of westerns. the harsh way of life, the violence, the isolation, drawn out revenge plots, the murkiness of good vs evil or sheriff vs anti-hero, the importance of honour and heroism and how that differs for men and women, especially in this universe with its town full of widows. having said all that, i’m still very much a sucker for cool cowboys in a shallow female way.
as you’ve probably already gathered my favourite thing is turning every love triangle into an ot3. so i’d love a fic post canon where roy comes back after realising found family is just as important as real family despite frank’s influence. i imagine bill would try to do the gentlemanly/self depreciating thing of bowing out and letting roy and alice be together but i’d love for alice to actually get a say in this where she wasn’t allowed in the show. however you jigsaw them together my main thing is that bill doesn’t get left out.
i feel the roy/bill aspect in particular could be explored a lot more. i love that they don’t hate each on sight. they learn mutual respect and then smoothly move around each other during the gunfight at the end. (bill’s deteriorating eyesight side plot also fascinates me, how it goes with his loss of purpose -”losing his shadow”- and comes back when teaming up with roy to defend the town. maybe there’s a fic possibility where it flares up again due to his insecurity of roy coming between him and alice. either way, the hints of magical realism here and with frank’s repeated insistence that he’s seen his death and this ain’t it are great and i wouldn’t mind seeing more of that.)
the usual ideas of western masculinity get all twisted around when roy and bill are in the presence of alice and they both seem kind of subby towards her, which yes please. the way alice kisses the scar she gave roy and the fact that he simply lets her is *chef kiss* because i also love the parallel that bill got shot in the hip trying to get revenge for alice. they all have scars that tie them together.
i’m actually very okay with letting them be soft with each other after all of their tragedy.
honest communication between partners could work wonders here.
Barry (TV 2018)
*Barry Berkman                     *Monroe Fuches
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i expected to like this show. dark comedy, depressed hitman, henry winkler, it’s a perfect combination of things. i didn’t expect to get obsessed with barry’s obvious fucked up father-figure hangups. but hey ho, i was pleasantly surprised.
pretty much every one of barry’s relationships in this show has an element of fucked-upness but the barry/fuches one is by far the worst. it’s codependent, it’s manipulative, it’s a little abusive, the power is constantly flip-flopping and most importantly there’s the father/son dynamic that could so easily tip over into something sexual. it’s everything i love. any time fuches calls barry “his boy” it kills me. and i am fascinated by the way barry can go from needy and touch starved to a rampaging killer hunting fuches down by the end and still have that dynamic going strong.
the parallels between them and the barry/gene cousineau relationship, which is fucked up too just in a very different way, are great. love the jealousy it brings and i would even be into a fic set post the season 2 ending, if you could find a way to swing that. though, while i like a little darkness, i would still rather see them fall back into old unhealthy habits than kill each other.
any kind of prequel fic would be amazing too.
and just to be clear i’m more than okay with a sexual relationship between these two but if you don’t want to write it that’s fine. I’d just like all the other aspects of their shitty relationship delved into.
L.A. Confidential (1997)
*Bud White                         *Ed Exley
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pretty much all of my bullet pointed likes come into play here. i’ve nominated two characters but i’d be happy with almost any combination of the characters available in the tagset as long as exley is involved in some way.
ships i like: bud/exley,  exley/vincennes,  bud/exley/lynn
but if we matched purely on both bud and exley then:
i love the opposites attract partnership bud and exley have and i like that they both seem angry at their attraction to each other. hate-sex with reluctant feelings? always good. i'd love anything that deals with their perceived difference in intellect and/or education. bud being turned-on by exley's smarts, exley realizing how much he's underestimated bud, them being mutually impressed by each other.
if you choose to go down the ot3 route then:
i love fics where exley shows up in arizona and they fall into weird domesticity. i love seeing how three people--especially three people who aren't used to the idea of poly relationships--work their way towards realizing and accepting what they want.
and while i’m not sure what you could do with this knowledge, i’d just like to add that i’ve read the book and i’m somewhat obsessed with the existence of dream-a-dreamland in general. if you could incorporate that in any way i’d be hugely impressed.
POKEMON Detective Pikachu (2019)
*Harry Goodman                        *Hide Yoshida
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this is totally a last minute request that i’ve edited in but is by no means less wanted than the others. i watched this film back when it came out and was honestly surprised by how much i enjoyed it. i’m a massive pokemon fan and have been since i got my pokemon red when i was seven years old and, let me tell you, getting to see all those growlithes waddling about the real world was like a childhood dream come true.
i had a good time and i moved on.
a few days ago i stumbled on a piece of art : here : and it was like the little goblin that is my brain just sat up straight. the very concept of these characters together had never crossed my mind before that but then suddenly the desire for this just casually strolled through my entire headspace, turning on every light as it went.
i love detective stories, i love cop partnerships, i love hot single dads who happen to be cops with cute little pokemon cop partners. i love that harry is kind of a shitty father but he’s now trying his best. i love that hide had nothing but praise and respect for harry when he meets with tim and that he knew things like tim wanting to be a pokemon trainer when he was younger (meaning he and harry had talked about stuff like this.) i love that hide inexplicably has a spare key to harry’s apartment in his desk drawer. i love how absolutely certain hide was in saying harry loved his son more than anything in the world.
there’s history there is what i’m saying, and i’d love to know more about it.
anything set pre-film would be cool. loose cannon harry throwing his whole being into his job to deal with the loss of his wife and his fractured relationship with his son. hide the tired lieutenant trying to rein him in, quietly talking about tim together, keeping him grounded and safe. all up until he can’t, that is. (great angst potential with hide genuinely believing harry is dead.)
anything set post-film would be even better. harry struggling to find balance between being a father and a cop. probably doing a shitty job at it in the beginning. hide trying to help. would love for tim to be an actual presence (outsider POV could be amazing here.)
may sound strange but my favourite thing that used to happen in digimon a lot is when characters would interact with each other digimon partner. i would be massively into a fic about the two of them growing closer through each other’s pokemon partner.
thank you writer and best of luck.
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I had a sensory overload today and cried on my boyfriend chest, so you're all getting headcanons so I can make myself feel better! Don't pay any attention as to how late it is!
Jacob:
-He has so little confidence in himself that it's actually sad
-Cannot be stopped from making self depreciating jokes, no matter how many times people tell him it's not good
-If this boy had a tiktok it would be blank. Maybe a cartoon pfp, but not a single video (Same bruh same)
Emma
-Out of everyone in the loop, she's the best at makeup. Doesn't mean she wears it all the time, but when she does good shit
-If she's in a bad mood, she can destroy you with words if she wants to. Luckily, this doesn't happen often, especially not to her friends. Random men that don't leave her alone on the other hand...
-For a while she had a "I'm not like other girls" thing going on, especially whenever Noor first came around. Not really there anymore though
Millard
-Do you ever get sensory overloads and cry? Then boy, do I have the cure for you! Cry while he hugs you. Automatic cure, I can confirm this right now from personal experience
-Sometimes he gets a little too focused on something and won't realize just how late he's said up until someone has to actually drag him to bed
-Gives the best and most thoughtful gifts. Oh? You collect pinned bugs? He's finding out where to get a rare pinned bug and giving you that on Valentine's day! Yes, that's what he did for me, I love him so much #justfictivethings lol
Hugh
-Out of everyone in the loop, he has the most...complex feelings about his gender. Being so tied to bees, he's beegender, but with that comes some strange feelings. Most bees are female, so he does feel a strong connection to femininity. But at the same time, he still feels tied to drones/male bees.
-He tries not to think too much about it, and maybe keeps it bottled up a bit too much. Maybe it's because it stresses him out to ponder too much. Maybe he's embarrassed to talk about it. No matter what though, he does feel a lot of gender euphoria wearing skirts and confusing people about what gender he is.
-His sexuality is probably just as confusing to find an exact label, but it's not something he worries about. He just ends up using the term queer and calls it a day
Fiona
-Fiona being plantgender surprises no one, and it never will. Same with her being bi. She just...you can just look at her and tell
-She's probably the least happy in a modern setting. Everything is just...too much for her. She likes the whole cottagecore thing, but she'd much rather keep to her usual ways. So still stuck in the late 1800's
-She has a way to talk to Hugh with just...looks. Slight facial expressions, body language, they just know each other that well. More often than not, they're flirting with each other like this out in the open
Enoch
-Was put on kitchen duty once....Once. The peculiars don't talk about this often
-You can't pay him to play sports with the other boys. He'd sooner pull teeth
-I am voting him as most likely to have filled his homework with doodles
Horace
-He's not a fan of many things in the modern day, but he does appreciate a few things. Easier tools for cooking, Google, and easy access to fabric to name a few things
-What he isn't a fan of though? Fashion (obviously), dance trends, and the modern humor
-His scream could break glass
Bronwyn
-HATES it when people call her a man for whatever reason. On bad days, it makes her cry
-She has a bit of hyper empathy with animals, especially baby ones
-A boy hit on her ONCE and she felt physically nauseous about it for a whole WEEK
Claire
-Says her favorite Disney princess is Aurora because her dress is pink, it's actually Cinderella because of the song "so this is love"
-She sees everyone in the loop as her siblings, but especially Enoch
-In a modern setting, she is addicted to those dress up flash games, bonus points if they're princess themed
Olive
-Sometimes she rolls her ankle in those big shoes, there are a lot of tears from that
-Has stepped on toes before! Brones were indeed broken!
-Master at finding lost items. No idea why
Bonus Victor!
-Horrible about confessing his feelings
-Makes horrible decisions when he gets nervous. It's like all critical thinking goes out the window
-Seems like the type with pencil graphite stuck in his hand permanently somewhere
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luci-in-trenchcoats · 6 years
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Broken Like Me (Part 3) - A New Friend
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Summary: The reader gets some news about her recovery and runs into Dean again...
Masterlist
Pairing: Model!Dean x reader
Word Count: 4,100ish
Warnings: language
One Week Later
You raised an eyebrow when you saw Dean’s face on the front page of the news on Saturday.
“Oh God, what’d you do…” you said, clicking the link. It revealed the other part of the picture. One half was obviously from an ad, Dean looking amazing and perfect.
The other...the other showed blemishes, birthmarks, freckles, shit the guy had a fuck ton of freckles. It showed where his muscles had been made more defined in the touched up photo. It showed where he had bags under his eyes, creases at the corner from where he smiled. His jaw was defined but not the same way as the first photo. The first photo made him look like a freaking Ken doll now that you thought about it. The second, the second one was much prettier in your opinion and you figured that was the point.
“Hey,” you said, grabbing your phone, surprised when Dean answered your call.
“You’re not going to rip my head off again, are you?” he asked.
“I saw the news,” you said. “You posted some pictures on your instagram.”
“I lost the biggest contract of my career over posting that,” said Dean. “No underwear modeling for me. Oh well. I didn’t really want people taking pictures of my ass in tight boxers anyway.”
“Dean-”
“I got a shit ton of offers now. Stuff for real guys that you know, drink beer and hamburgers and I’m never eating another piece of fucking kale as long as I live,” said Dean.
“Why did you post the pictures?” you said.
“See, I don’t like the picture on the right. I hate it actually. I see a lot wrong with it because that’s what 12 years in this business did to me. But I’m a person and I guess if I’m going to figure out how to get you to not give a shit what other people think, I should start doing it myself,” he said.
“Seriously? You threw away a big job for that? You’re insane,” you said.
“Ok. It doesn’t change the fact that you got a problem with the way you see yourself,” he said. “I mean I got the same issue but I don’t jump down someone’s throat when they give me a compliment.”
“I told you-“
“I don’t know what’s going on with you, not really, but not everyone in the world is a dick,” he said.
You hung up on him, curling up on the couch and staring at the ceiling. You turned your head and glanced at your phone, wondering if you should just delete his number and be done with it.
A text popped up that told you you wouldn’t have to worry about that.
*Sorry for bothering you. I’ll never talk to you again.*
Three Weeks Later
You swallowed hard when you saw Dean walking out of Dr. Jones’ office with an older blonde haired woman. Dean looked away, the woman giving you a smile. Her hand was out of a cast but a big chunk of skin was gone from the top of it, leaving a bright red patch.
“Make sure to stop by the front desk and we’ll get you ready for the grafting on Friday,” said Dr. Jones with a smile, giving you one as well where you sat in the waiting room. “Y/N, you’re up.”
You caught Dean staring at you in your hat and scarf, his mother whacking him with her good hand.
“Dean, that’s rude,” she mumbled.
“That’s the girl dad hit,” said Dean quietly. Her face changed to something a few shades lighter, Dean shaking his head as you walked past. “She hates me, just let it go.”
“I’m so sorry,” said his mother as you paused. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” you said, giving them a nod before you followed Dr. Jones.
Thirty minutes later you felt even worse than when you got there.
Your insurance wouldn’t cover any procedures beyond the cream since they were considered elective and cosmetic. You could handle not taking care of all of the big scars. The ones on your torso didn’t matter that much, no one saw that ever and you could get by not wearing tank tops anymore. But the scar on your collarbone was high and some shirts wouldn’t cover it. Then there was the one on your face you absolutely wanted gone. It was your face and you hated every time you caught your reflection in the mirror.
“Crap,” you said as you walked out of the office, knowing what you had to do but hating it all the same.
Fifteen Minutes Later
“Mom! We’re not strapped for cash. I’m not asking for the money to go buy a fancy car. I need surgery,” you said, sitting in the driver’s seat, leaning your head against your hand.
“Oh, you don’t look that bad. Put some makeup on and you’ll be fine,” she said. “You could wear makeup more often you know.”
“Mom, put dad on the phone. Please,” you said, trying your best not to get upset while you were sat in the parking lot.
“Hi pumpkin,” he said after a minute.
“Dad, please be the rational one. Let me-“
“You’re not old enough to access your trust yet, Y/N. You’re the one that wanted to be a big girl and make her own way in the world,” he said.
“Dad! This doesn’t have to do with that. I have a job and pay for everything myself. I’m asking my very well-off parents for a little bit of help. That’s all I want. Take the money out of my trust. I don’t care about any penalties. Please, I can’t do it myself,” you said.
“I’m sorry, pumpkin but I can’t do that,” he said.
“Fine. Lend me the money and when I’m old enough I’ll pay you back with the money and-“
“Y/N. I said no,” he said.
“I just-“
“No. End of discussion,” he said. You bit your bottom lip, squeezing the steering wheel hard as he continued to speak. “Your mother and I are going to be staying in Europe until at least April so-“
“So no thanksgiving this week. No holidays. No anything. Again,” you said. “Shocker.”
“You sound like a spoiled child, Y/N,” he said.
“Sorry. I only wanted to see my family but almost dying didn’t even phase you. You probably wish I had so you could just have all your stupid money and travel all the time and forget I even exist,” you said, not caring that you were starting to cry.
“That is not true,” he said. “You need to learn to grow up and realize-“
“Grow up? I am a grown up. You made me grow up way before I was supposed to,” you spat out. “I should call one of my old nannies, you know, the people that actually raised me.”
“You do not need money to fix some stupid scars and acting like a child won’t make me give it to you. You don’t need it,” he said.
“Did mom even show you the picture I sent her? The one on my forehead is huge and-“
“Why do you care? You aren’t that pretty. Get some bangs or wear makeup if it makes you so wound up,” he said.
“Well thank you,” you said with a scoff to try and push down the pit in your gut that was overwhelming you. “I really appreciated that. I was only asking for a tiny bit of help, something that wouldn’t even be a drop in the bucket for you but who was I to think you gave a shit. I think it’d be better if we didn’t talk for a while.”
You hung up on him, tossing your phone in the seat and resting your head against the wheel.
You cried and shook for a few minutes before a knock at your door made you nearly shout. You turned away and wiped your face on your sleeve, turning back to see Dean frowning outside, a cup of coffee in a gloved hand.
“What?” you tried to say forcefully but it came out as a screech and you started crying again.
“My mom forgot her phone here,” he said. You glared at him through the window, Dean still standing there. You threw the door open, the cool air making your cheeks cold and your nose stuff up even more. “It’s caramel.”
He held the coffee cup out to you. You took it without thinking about it and felt your hands warm up, a small sip of it calming you down a little.
“Drive safe,” he said, turning around.
“Wait,” you croaked out, Dean spinning in his heels. “You’re not making fun of me, are you.”
“No,” he said quietly.
“Why do you talk to me?” you asked.
“Because you’re lonely and I’m lonely and you’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen in my life. I think we could be friends,” he said.
“But I’m not gorgeous,” you said.
“Agree to disagree then,” he said with a smile.
“Why are you still here?” you asked. “You don’t live in Lawrence.”
“I told myself I should stick around for my parents until they got better,” he said with a shrug.
“It’s been over six weeks,” you said. “Your mom looked pretty okay.”
“I know. They don’t need me,” said Dean.
“I don’t need you either,” you said.
“Nobody needs me, sweetheart,” he said with a sad smile.
“Don’t say that,” you said, a different kind of ache filling you up.
“It’s true,” he said with a shrug. “All I’m good for is being a pretty face.”
“You know...there can’t be two self-depreciators in this friendship,” you said.
“We could always take turns?” said Dean with a smile. You felt a smile on your face, despite the fact you could feel tears still spilling down your cheeks. “I take it I’m allowed to talk to you again?”
“Yeah,” you said, wiping at your face again.
“Do you want to talk about whatever caused this whole situation?” he said, waving his hand around.
“I hate my parents,” you said. “Oh, and I can’t afford surgery to fix what’s still wrong with me until I’m a lot older so there’s that.”
“Maybe you’ll win the lottery. You’re due for some good luck,” he said.
“I don’t seem to have that,” you said, taking another sip of the coffee. “Thank you.”
“I got to drop off my mom’s phone but maybe we could hang out tonight. Sam’s working on a big case and he’d rather have me out of the house anyways,” said Dean.
“I have...my thing on Tuesday evenings,” you said.
“Therapy? We can go after,” he said.
“Sure,” you said, Dean cocking his head at your car. “What?”
“Uh, I hate to be the bearer of even more bad news but you may or may not have a flat tire,” he said with a wince.
“Naturally,” you said, laughing to yourself. “My day was already going to shit.”
“I’ll give you a ride home if you want. My Uncle Bobby runs a salvage yard. I bet we can find you a decent tire for free if you don’t mind waiting until tomorrow,” said Dean.
“Free is good,” you said.
“Okay then, pretty girl, where are we off to?”
Four Hours Later
“Hm,” said Dr. Bram. You raised an eyebrow at him, getting a chuckle from him. “You had a long day by all accounts.”
“Yeah,” you said, playing with a piece of stray thread off of one of the pillows.
“Yet you seem to be in a much better space right now than I’ve seen you...quite possible ever. Why do you think that is?” he asked.
“Is this some sort of thing where I say I made a friend?” you asked, half-joking, half-not.
“Sure. A male friend too,” he said. “You have plans this evening with him, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” you said. “You’re the one making a big deal out of this, not me.”
“You are allowed to be excited for that, Y/N,” he said. “Going to have fun with a friend.”
“It’s not a date,” you said.
“I know. I don’t want to keep you either so I’m going to let you out a few minutes early and give you a homework assignment,” he said.
“Oh come on,” you said. “I haven’t gotten homework in two years.”
“We missed six weeks of sessions. A lot has happened since then including changes to your appearance which you refuse to talk about,” he said.
“So,” you shot back.
“So I’m giving you homework again until you start feeling safe to discuss it with me,” he said. You groaned but he handed you back your old notebook filled with assignments from over the past few years.
“Dr. Bram-“
“An essay,” he said.
“No! I’m not in school. I don’t-“
“You like to write. It’s one of your hobbies. You work from home too so this will not be a problem for you to find an hour over the next week to whip something up for me,” he said.
“Can I at least type it?” you asked.
“Yes,” he said. “But stick a copy in here.”
“Fine,” you grumbled, shoving the notebook in your bag.
“Five to ten things you like about your physical appearance. Two page minimum,” he said.
“I hate you,” you said, Dr. Bram shrugging. “Fine. But don’t expect it to be great or anything.”
“Mhm,” he said. You sighed as you stood up, following him out of his office as he closed up for the night. You spotted Dean on the couch in the front room, a laugh booming next to you.
“Dean! Good to see you,” said Dr. Bram as he walked over to him. “Are you back in town?”
“At the moment,” said Dean with a smile, giving him a handshake.
“I’m closing up for the night but if you’re looking for a spot, I got a few slots tomorrow,” he said.
“No, no, I’m doing good. I’m just waiting for Y/N to finish up so we can go have some fun,” said Dean. Dr. Bram nodded and gave you a smile.
“You’re in good hands with this one,” said Dr. Bram to you. “Have fun and next Tuesday-“
“Essay. I got it,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Goodnight Dr. Bram.”
“Goodnight,” he said. You walked out with Dean, sliding into the passenger seat.
“I can’t believe you didn’t take this car to LA,” you said, buckling your belt.
“I know. I missed my Baby,” he said with a smile as he sat down, running his hand over the dash.
“So...how do you know Dr. Bram?” you asked. “If that’s okay.”
“What gave it away?” he teased. “It’s cool. I saw Dr. Bram when I was a kid and then when I was a teenager again. There was a house fire when I was little. Everyone was fine but somebody said because I was quiet I was screwed up so I went to Dr. Bram. I liked going, I didn’t have to hear my parents fighting when I was there.”
“When you were older?” you asked, hoping you weren’t pushing too much.
“I got in a big fight with my dad. I think I wanted to join football. I don’t really remember it that well. He got mad and I got mad and it got out of control. My mom called the cops because dad punched a wall and they forced me and Sam to go to Dr. Bram weekly for like...a year. I just sort of kept going until I moved to LA,” he said.
“Both of you guys went?” you asked.
“Well, not together. Sometimes we did but...the cops were concerned we weren’t living in a good environment or some crap. Dad’s a dick sometimes and he makes mistakes but he’s not that kind of guy,” said Dean. “I mean, I think he wouldn’t let me join so I’d be safe. It’s probably why we’re still fighting. He worries too much.”
“You’re very open,” you said.
“No, no. I’m really not. I’m not embarrassed to talk about my problems with you though, unlike you which doesn’t even make sense. You have shitty luck but seem like a relatively normal person,” he said. “I’m the supermodel after all. I’m supposed to be the screwed up one.”
“You’re not that pretty,” you said, rolling your eyes.
“See! Finally, you’re starting to get it,” he said with a big smile.
“Let’s go get a drink, dork.”
“So besides pie, muscle cars and classic rock, what do you like, Dean?” you said with a smile, grabbing the other half of his uneaten pretzel while Dean munched on some of your fries.
“I think I like you which sucks because you really don’t like me,” said Dean.
“What? I like you,” you said, Dean grinning hard. “Oh shut up.”
“I do like you,” he said, looking across the bar. “But I don’t think rushing into this is good for either one of us.”
“Rushing into what,” you said.
“Dating. Let’s be friends first,” he said with a smile.
“Dating?” you said.
“Yeah. We’ve already established that I have the hots for you. It’s bound to happen at some point. Just warning you now,” he said, a smirk tugging onto his lips.
“What about me is so pretty then?” you asked, Dean shrugging. “Dean.”
“That’s a date question. We’re just hanging out,” he said with another smirk, sipping on his beer.
“You’re not going to tell me why you’re attracted to me,” you said.
“Exactly,” he said, pointing his beer at you.
“Why?” you asked.
“Me saying it isn’t going to make you believe it. See, I got to show you and then someday when I tell you, you’ll believe me,” he said. “Make sense?”
“I think you spent too much time in LA,” you said, rolling your eyes, eating the rest of his pretzel. “Again, aren’t you supposed to move back there?”
“I’m a model. I can work from anywhere. If there’s anything big I can hop a ride down to Dallas or Kansas City or St. Louis. I think I might be moving back to Lawrence permanently,” he said.
“Won’t you miss your friends? Your life? Your house?” you asked.
“They have these things called phones to talk to my friends and my apartment I own the lease on until the end of March and my life here is better than the one out there honestly which says something in itself. Any more ways you want to try to get rid of me?” he asked, stealing another french fry and giving you a wink.
“Friends don’t wink at friends like that,” you said.
“Cut me some slack,” he said, wiping off his hands. “Let’s go dance.”
“Dean! I don’t dance,” you said. “People watch other people dance.”
“They do, don’t they?” he said with a chuckle, grabbing your hand.
“No, Dean please, I don’t want to,” you said, trying to pry his hand off but it wasn’t any use. Dean released you though and you pulled your hands into your lap. “I’m going to use the bathroom.”
“Sorry,” he said quietly.
“It’s okay. Can you just watch my drink while I’m gone?” you asked. Dean nodded and you gave him a smile before you were headed for the ladies room. You sighed when you got inside. It was dark in the bar and no one cared that you were wearing a hat and scarf inside. But if you danced, you’d get hot and take it off and then people would see, including Dean and he only ever saw you with bandages covering your stitches so he didn’t even really know how bad you were and he actually probably thought you were hideous if he ever saw them and…
You flipped the toilet seat down and sat on it with your head between your knees, taking deep breaths.
“Excuse me? Y/N?” asked a voice you didn’t recognize. You stood up and flushed, wiping your face off before you left the stall. A woman was standing there, giving you a smile. “Y/N?”
“Yeah,” you said.
“Your friend was getting worried and asked if I’d check that you were alright,” she said.
“Yeah. The greasy food is bothering me is all,” you said. “I’ll be right out.”
When you got back to your table Dean looked a little relieved but mostly concerned.
“Are you okay? You were gone over twenty minutes,” said Dean. You scoffed. It couldn’t have been that long, five minutes max. “You were crying.”
“No I wasn’t,” you said.
“Your face is red,” he said.
“I wasn’t crying,” you said. “I’m fine. It’s getting late. I need a ride home.”
“Alright. I can drive you.”
“Thanks,” you said when Dean pulled up to your house.
“My Uncle said your car should be in your driveway around lunch. No charge,” said Dean with a nod.
“This is why we shouldn’t be friends. I’m a hot mess and you’re nothing but nice,” you said.
“You didn’t sue my parents when you had every right to. The accident was dad’s fault,” said Dean. “You’re the nice one.”
“Like you said, it was an accident,” you said.
“Still though,” he said. He looked at you, really looked at you and it took you half a second to realize he was closer.
He pressed his lips to yours, so soft and gentle and before you could even decide how you felt he was pulling away.
“Sorry. I had to kiss you at least once before you kicked me out of your life for good,” he said.
“I’m not...why would you think that?” you asked.
“I’m good at getting kicked out of people’s lives, that’s why,” he said.
“You didn’t answer my question,” you said.
“I can’t keep going back on this with you. Either you’re my friend or you’re not. Make a choice, right now. Please,” he said.
“We’re friends,” you said with a nod, not really sure what that meant at the moment considering what just happened. You opened the car door, pausing for a second. “Thanks.”
“Next time you’re buying,” he said with a smile.
“Sure thing,” you said.
“Was that okay?” he asked. “Kissing you?”
“It wasn’t not okay,” you said. “You said it earlier. Let’s be friends first.”
“Alright,” he said, catching your arm before you got out. “Earlier today in your car when you were upset...did your parents say you couldn’t come to Thanksgiving or something?”
“No. We aren’t having it is all,” you said. “They’re out of the country right now.”
“Do you want to come to ours?” asked Dean. “If you want. I know it’ll be weird with my parents but-“
“I’ve never actually gone to one,” you said. “Do you really make all that food?”
“I’ll pick you up at 11. Jeans are perfectly acceptable too,” he said. “And we totally make a ton of food.”
“I don’t…” you said, stopping yourself. You could wear makeup and something with a high collar, maybe a turtleneck. “If it’s okay with you family.”
“Yeah, of course it is,” he said.
“I guess I’ll see you in a couple days then,” you said.
“I’ll call you tomorrow.”
A/N: Read Part 4 here!
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smallerthanmilk · 6 years
Text
My own self-image I guess.
People take such a long time to learn to love themselves, yet we all start off on a plain of lack of personal judgement, of the wonder at the creature you see in the reflective glass. What happened to that wonder? What changed to put loathing in front of where loving should be? Who taught you to speak and talk and believe such low things about yourself and who inspired your lack of self esteem. Is it the media? Is it the constant supply of people to compare yourself too? Is it the atmosphere and attitude of the education system? Is it just how our brains automatically work? The ideals of self-expression and self-worth that are sold to us in magazines, films, in the world that we live in? The constant supply of reflective surfaces, the marketing of products telling you ‘with this you can improve your own beauty? I don’t know. I wish I did. There are so many things I wish I could understand. I wish I knew why I think this way about myself. Why I put my own perceived beauty over my comfort, over my enjoyment, why I let it consume me and eat me alive. I wish I could understand why I find myself spending hours standing in front of my mirror, pinpointing and picking apart all the flaws I see, all the insecurities I list out, all the things I would change in a heartbeat had I be able too.  I wish I could truly say that I love myself. I don’t think I ever will though. I don’t believe that there is a possibility that one day I will look at myself and be satisfied with what I look like. I haven’t ever really been. As I said before, I struggle with my weight. It is the basis of many of my discomforts about myself. My stomach, my stretch marks, my double chin and round face and chicken wings and thick thighs.... the list goes on. It’s odd. You would have perhaps thought that with the more weight I loose the more comfortable I feel in my own skin, and to an extend it is true, however more and more I find myself picking more flaws I hate, more anxiety about how I look fat in images than I ever felt when I was at my heaviest. As if I am terrified to look worse or as if I haven’t improved myself in the last few months.  There’s more I don’t like. I don’t like my chin. It’s, as once put ‘a butt chin’. I feel bad not liking my chin. It is one of the features that I have inherited from my Dad, and in a sense it makes me feel closer to him, but I hate it on my own face. I also hate my lips. The top is far to thin and my cupids bow is weird and slightly lopsided. My teeth, whilst they have been improved with restorative dentistry, I still dislike. I will never have perfect, nice, white teeth, They will always be oddly small and weirdly shaped. My nose has a weird ridge which I dislike. I like to wear glasses to hide it, but they also can make my face look funny. My eyes are fairly set back in my face, and I dislike how my eyebrows push onto my eyes to give them a square shape due to the overhanging skin. My eyebrows themselves are two low on my forehead, and my forehead is covered in old scars and spots and horrible acne. I dislike my jawline, I dislike how my ears sit on my head. My neck has a weird curve at the back of it that I am unbelievably self-conscious of. My legs are too short, my legs are fat and oddly muscular.  There’s more, like hands and hair and waist sizes and elbows and moles and freckles and the list goes on.  There’s a lot to dislike.  But on the other hand (wow, look at me throwing in a good conjunction into this mount of a personal essay) there’s a lot I can learn to love, and I really should fully try to change my outlook on myself. For example, I should love my chin. It is inherited from my Dad and is a characteristic I share with someone I love. My stretch marks show my history, they add texture and beauty onto an otherwise rather plane surface, my teeth are unique, my height is cute, my face is mine. I should be proud to own such a face, but I am not.  It’s odd isn’t it. The knowledge that you shouldn’t think the way you do, and yet for some reason you do.  And I am trying. As I said, it takes a long time to learn to love yourself, and I have days of self-confidence and self love that can be so easily fractured by a negative mood that I end up taking out on myself. it’s like a constant wave of self-belief followed by a lack there of it. A progress that moves one step forwards then two steps back, over and over again, until there comes a point I accept myself for what I am.  I don’t really know why my head is thinking about this. I guess I have done a lot of literal self-reflection today.  It’s odd. Sometimes I can persuade myself that I am a hot bitch and I really love myself, the next moment, I genuinely and fully believe I am far to ugly to ever be able to be loved. In my head everyone is probably repulsed to see me, in my mind no-one wants to remain my friend as they don’t want to see my face.  And then something hits me, like a rounders ball smacking me in the nose, that I don’t view others in that way. I don’t pick apart anyone else’s flaws, I don’t note a cleft chin, I don’t laugh at or mock someones eyes or spots or any of the same things that I doubt about myself. I see joy, I see skin, I see smiles and happiness and self-acceptance. I see scars that track recovery, freckles that make up constellations. Beauty that realms in many forms. So why don’t I see myself like that? 
As I said. I have no idea. It might be the constant berating from my mum as a kid, calling me fat, ugly, a pig in a pigsty, unlovable, worthless.... the list goes on (more on that later for sure. Heh...) It might be social media, it might be the mocking words from the teenagers I was surrounded with. It might be comments from ex-close friends. It might be anything. All I know is that it exists. That its there. That there’s a mental stigma I need to fight, and never give into.  It’s hard. It’s sometimes unbearable. It’s odd too. I find that my male friends don’t seem to face anywhere near as such of a self-depreciating view. They have mentioned issues of being perceived as ‘too skinny’ or not muscular enough, but there isn’t the utter lists of specific self hatred, the dislike of not meeting societal expectations.  I probably is due to society. Honestly, the impressions of makeup and feminine expectation has admittedly had more of an impact on my self worth than I ever would have predicted. Its odd. Not feeling enough for anyone, not even being enough for yourself. And I know others feel it too. I know I don’t feel it all the time. I do right now, I’ve spent a while thinking about it. If i didn’t, I would probably be more happy with my complexion.  But I am not. And that’s alright. I will maybe get there. Maybe I’ll never be 100% happy, but I will be more happy than I am now. Optimism right? I still have it in me. Sorry that this post is a little bit of a downer. Please feel free to discuss any of this with me. If anyone ever reads this, that is. I’m kind of expecting that by this point people have given up on these random and odd blogs. It kind of helps me though, to streamline my thoughts rather than letting it overwhelm me and build in my head. In my head it can easily loose structure. Written out, it’s a lot easier to deal with.  Yes, I could just keep this on private but as I said at the start, it makes me really have to moderate what I say, and I think i take comfort in the possibility that maybe someone does read this, maybe someone cares enough to see what my internal thoughts are. Obviously, this isn’t all of them, and obviously, there is so much more I need to cover. It’s odd. It’s like I am inviting the world to see my darkest and deepest thoughts. I feel like maybe my next post will be very much more light hearted than this shit show.  I’m kind of awkwardly signing this off aren’t I? I think I am slightly scared to publish this, as I have never so outwardly expressed this before. Whoops. Sorry world.  I am okay by the way. I will get there. It’s alright. And I am sorry for putting this all on you. Even though there isn’t a specific you and it’s your choice to actually read it. LMAO.  I wonder if anyone does actually read these or if they are kind of just drifting off into the unknown and unwanted and ignored area of the internet.
Okay. I really need to stop typing for the moment.  See you guys soon. 
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forestiyari · 6 years
Text
Behind The Curtain (1/3)
Rated M for implied smut.
For my CSSS giftee @captainswanseven.  A series of three canon compliant scenes based on her headcanons.
Happy (belated) Christmas and (early) New Year to all.  Thank you to @ladyciaramiggles for the last minute read through.
Current plan is to post part 2 on 27th and part 3 on 29th, so see you soon!
AO3
Part 1: Swan Tattoo
Emma tiptoes down the stairs of the loft, feeling at least ten years younger than she actually is.  Surely most 29 year olds don’t have to sneak past their parents to meet their sort-of boyfriend.
Not that she’d worried about that sort of thing when she’d been a teenager.  Most of her foster parents simply wouldn’t have noticed if she’d decided to leave in the middle of the night.
Large blue eyes meet her at the bottom of the stairs and she smiles, taking in her brother’s angelic face.
“Hey you.”  She whispers across the room, checking that their parents haven’t been disturbed.  “What are you doing awake?”
Neal grins, wide and gummy and kicks his blanket off in excitement.  Emma moves over to the crib, placing one hand on Neal’s stomach and using the index finger of the other to stroke down his nose softly.  It calms him and it’s only a few moments before his eyes begin to drift closed.
“You’re one of the lucky ones.”  She tells her brother as she cautiously moves her hands away from him, praying he won’t reawaken before she’s gone.
The door clicks shut behind her and Emma feels a rush of exhilaration run through her.  She’s made it out of the loft without her parents realising and she has to stop herself from galloping down the stairs like a giddy five year old and skipping through the street to Granny’s.
The front entrance is dark and no doubt locked, but the rear door, leading directly to the corridor of bedrooms is held only on a keypad- and she doubts there’s anyone in Storybrooke that doesn’t know the code.
Hook’s room is quiet, and she wonders briefly whether she misunderstood his earlier message and is about to embarrass herself horribly.  Just as she’s hovering, undecided, with her hand up to knock, the door swings open to reveal Hook in all his modern clad glory, half a smirk on his lips and an eyebrow raised.
“Swan.”
“Hook, I-”  She stammers, suddenly feeling like an awkward teenager again.
“Were you planning on knocking today or waiting for the next crisis to arise?”  He asks sarcastically and she finds her feet again, rolling her eyes at him before entering the room, making sure her shoulder knocks his arm in passing.
The room is nothing like Emma imagined- it’s one of Granny’s standard rooms, true, but Hook’s been here long enough that it’s also full of hints of him.  The bed is against one wall; a single clad in floral print, and a desk filled with books and papers and… is that a quill… opposite.  A wardrobe crowds the door to the ensuite, leaving maybe two square metres of floor space to play with.  And he’s filled that with a coffee table and two chairs, one of which he motions for her to take as she shrugs off her jacket.
“Your message was rather vague.”  Emma opens with as they settle in their seats.  “Meet me at my quarters at your convenience- I’ll be waiting?”
“Well,”  He begins.  “Your schedule hardly allows for a fixed appointment.”  He smiles weakly at her and she aches for something to do with her hands other than nervously picking at a chipped nail.
“You could have been waiting a long time.”  She teases, a small smile pulling at the corner of her mouth.
“I had faith you’d find a way to fit me in.”  It could so easily be an innuendo, but the way he says it is perfectly straight and the sentiment melts through her.  He has faith in her; always has, and it warms her.
Hook reaches across the table to where he’s left two glasses.  They clang together as he pulls them towards him and she realises with a start that he’s just as nervous as she is.  Since their date their time together has been sparse and filled with action and now, alone, safe, the air is heavy between them.  Unbidden her eyes flicker over to the bed and she knows he’s caught her by the upturned lip and downcast gaze that greets her when she looks back to him.
“I didn’t ask you here to-”
“I know.”  She cuts him off quickly and the air between them threatens to turn awkward again.
“Although if you’re offering…”  The way he says it, chest puffed out and grin in place, cuts through the tension and a laugh falls from her lips.  He always knows just what to say or do to put her at ease.  He chuckles back at her.
“What are you drinking Swan?”
“Is there any option other than rum?”  She asks teasingly.
“I have what I’m assured is a very good Merlot.”  He reaches behind him to grab the bottle before presenting it with a flourish.  “Of course I have no bloody idea what a Merlot is… I asked for wine.”  Her smile has only widened at his self-depreciation.
“Merlot is good.”  She watches him pour then waves a hand around the room.  “You seem to have settled in here.”
“Aye.  The amenities are more than satisfactory.  Although the host could be a little less… involved.”  His meaning is clear from his tone and she laughs again.
“Granny being a little too hands on?”
“Have no fear Swan- she’s not my type.”
“Oh I know.”  The words slip out unbidden and she slaps her free hand over her mouth almost immediately.  With a grin he reaches up and pulls it away, entwining their fingers as he lowers them to the table.
“What about you?  Any admirers I should know of?”  He’s teasing and she answers in kind.
“Oh there’s one- can’t keep his eyes off me.”
“He sounds like a rogue.”
“I can handle him.”
“I’m sure you can.”  He grins and she realises they wear matching expressions.  She feels more relaxed now- the wine and the company beginning to work their magic on her.  Hook brushes his thumb over her wrist.  “Tell me about this?”  He motions to her tattoo and she freezes for a moment, the gut instinct to hide the details of her briefly overriding the calm she felt previously.  She quashes the panic and forces herself to open a little more to him.
“I was young, it was before I met Neal.  I had it done in some sleazy back alley place- I just walked in with the money and the decision and picked out the first design that called to me.”
“Why here?”  He presses lightly on her wrist.
“It was the first thing I saved up for and paid for myself that wasn’t a necessity.  I wanted it to be somewhere I could see it.  A reminder I was going to make it.”
“Did it work?”  He asks, his voice almost earnest in its integrity and she takes a moment to think through her answer.
“I’m here, so I guess it did.”  She shrugs before continuing.  “There were plenty of days I struggled to get through but for the most part they’re gone now.”  He nods in understanding.
“My vengeance was all I had for a long time.  I told myself that it was for Milah, but I know now that it was a lot more selfish than that.”  She runs her free hand over his shirt sleeve where she knows the tattoo of Milah’s name is.  There’s a lot she could say, but it would all sound empty and she knows he won’t appreciate it.
“I have another.”  She changes the subject with a playful grin and he takes the bait with a relieved glint in his eyes.
“Oh really?  I can’t say I’ve noticed.”  He shifts forward in his chair, his eyes dipping deliberately to the neckline of her sweater.  “Perhaps it’s somewhere more… concealed?”  Despite having expected the reaction she feels her cheeks heat as his gaze slowly climbs to her lips.  She steadies her breathing before pulling their joined hands to lift the hem of her top, exposing her abdomen where the silhouettes of two birds are inked.
The larger bird sits, head turned upwards to the smaller one in flight.  She drags his index finger over the rough skin at the stationary bird’s feet.
“I got it right after I came out of prison.  I had a stretch mark here that served as a branch.  The birds are-”
“You and Henry.”  He finishes for her and she gapes.  Not even Mary Margaret had realised the significance the one time she’d seen it.  She should really stop being surprised by him given the amount of times that he’s shown that he understands her, but every time it’s a surprise.
Emma closes the tiny gap between them, kissing him solidly.  It’s still so new between them that it’s exciting, but it’s also beginning to be a little bit familiar; she knows the taste of his tongue now, the roll of his lips, the way his hook will press lightly into her as he holds himself back.  She doesn’t want him to hold back any more.
Eventually they break apart, slightly breathless, both smiling and she struggles for a moment for a cohesive thought.  She doesn’t think she’s the only one.
“What about you?”  She asks eventually, eager to turn the conversation away from herself and distract herself from his fingers still absently stroking over her abdomen.  “I’m sure you must have more tattoos than just the one?”
“I do.”  He says simply before ducking his head.  Emma’s surprised; it’s not usual for Killian to hide anything from her and she’s always known instantly when he tries.  Right now he’s avoiding giving her a more detailed answer and it only intrigues her.  He’s not a shy person and given how clear he’s made his intentions he must have expected her to see any tattoo he has at some point.
“Can I see it?”  She asks in the end.  Instead of answering he stands and begins to unbutton his shirt.  She wonders what he’s doing before she catches a glimpse of something peeking out from the opening and is compelled to rise to her own feet.  Without thinking about her actions she pushes back his shirt to examine the tattoo over his right pectoral.  It’s large, easily the size of her hand and obscured slightly beneath his chest hair.  She thinks it’s a dragon at first with its spread wings and elegantly stretched neck, but as she takes in the curve of its head, tapering down to its dainty beak she realises.
“It’s a swan.”  She sighs.  It’s the most beautiful tattoo she’s ever seen and she can’t stop from tracing over its outline.
“Aye.”  Her fingers take in it all, from the head almost at his shoulder, the wings spread from collarbone to ribs, down to the tail and feet next to his nipple.  Even without his previous hesitation and the burning look he’s giving her now the meaning of the swan over his heart couldn’t be more obvious.
“Why here?”  She almost whispers, repeating his question from earlier.
“I was never going to see you again.”  His voice breaks on the words.  “But this time there was no one to blame; it just was.  The tattoo was just for me- I didn’t need it on display like Milah’s, I just needed to have it- to remember the feelings you evoked in me: The desire to be a better man, to care about others, to be a part of a family.”  She thinks now about how hard it must have been for him- to have been ripped from the hope he’d found in her and then, when he’d found a way back to her, for her to not remember anything of their connection.
Because there had always been a connection, life having dealt them hands that ensured that they understood each other.  But they’re both here, now and, she thinks, on the same page.  She stops moving her fingers and instead splays her hand over his chest, leaning against him as she reaches up to kiss him.
It’s hot and heavy, all tongues and teeth and this time she doesn’t feel his hook pressing into her hip as he restrains himself but instead instead it runs down her side and under the curve of her ass.  It feels perfect.
“Emma.”  His voice is breathy against her lips and she feels that pleasant sensation low in her abdomen that precedes arousal.
“Killian.”  She answers and it’s clearly enough encouragement for him to proceed, to take the lead and wrap both arms around her, lifting her just enough to move her to the bed and lie her gently back on it.  Her right hand hasn’t left his chest and as he lowers himself onto her it becomes trapped at an angle that should be unpleasant, but she can’t find it in her to pull it away, the sensation of his roughened skin beneath her fingers combined with the steady beat of his heart soothing her soul even as her body becomes heated.
There’s no real hurry in their actions, both content for the first few minutes to simply enjoy kissing and it’s only when her free hand begins to wander over the bunched muscles of his back that they become more heated and purposeful.  He pulls her sweater and tank over her head delicately, forcing her hand to leave his chest and instead begin to explore the lines and planes of his stomach.  He’s clearly puzzled by her bra but once she’s shown him the catch it takes him seconds to remove it.
She’s never really found breast play arousing, preferring in her previous liaisons to move quickly to the final act, but it’s clear that Killian has no intention of rushing through and as he lavishes her chest with attention she begins to find the sensations enjoyable- to the point that she finds small gasps and mewls falling from her lips.
“That’s it Emma,”  Killian’s voice is low and encouraging, not a command but a request, “Let me hear you, tell me what you want.”
But she’s always been more for showing than telling and she snakes her hand around the back of his neck to tug lightly on his hair, urging him to lean back on his haunches as she rises to her feet and almost runs to the bathroom.  In her brief stay at Granny’s she had found the collection of condoms under the sink slightly baffling but she now thanks Ruby’s forethought as she grabs one and returns to the bedroom, finding Killian on his feet, both hurt and confusion on his features.
“Emma, are you-”
“I’m not running.”  She says simply, realising that he had no idea where she was going or why.  She holds up the small purple packet and although he clearly has no idea what it is he accepts her words and acquieses as she urges him back to the bed.  Eagerly she removes both of their pants and underwear before sitting him on the bed and leaning him against the wall, climbing over him on her knees.
His hands move delicately over her as she uses her mouth to trace his swan tattoo in the same way she had done previously with her fingers.  Both of them are holding back, knowing that this first time is different to any previous one they’ve had and wanting to savour the experience.  His fingers drag inside her at the same time as she bites down on his nipple and they both groan, their gazes meeting and silently agreeing that they’ve had enough foreplay.
Once the condom is open it’s clear that he understands its use and allows her to position it, then he moves both his arms to encircle her and gently guide her movements while she places one on his shoulder and grips his brace lightly with the other.  After a few false starts they work well together, his words softly encouraging her while she builds them both higher.  She crashes her lips to his as she feels him peak inside her, following him moments later.
She feels no hurry to leave afterwards and is happy to lie in his arms, crushed to his side as they struggle to untuck then pull the covers over them without either of them falling from the narrow bed.  He’s clumsy with his hook in a way she’s never seen before until she realises he’s self conscious of the brace and his arm below it.  She has to lean over to find a hair tie in her jeans pocket when her hair decides that the combination of sweat and static is enough to give it a life of its own.  It’s awkward and ridiculous and perfect.
And when there’s still the urge to listen to his stories and to share hers in return three hours later she realises that just maybe she’s one of the lucky ones too.
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