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morethanwords0475 · 2 years

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April TC Challenge!

It was so nice reading everyone's answers for this challenge! Thank you guys so much 🥺

Day 1: Happy April Fool’s! Have you ever pranked your TC; if so, how did they react?

I’ve never done it myself but we have as a class, someone once suggested that we stay absolutely silent during T’s lesson. He made us discuss in pairs and we all started writing on paper, typing on computers, using made-up sign language, etc. T got a bit frustrated and said he’d make us write an essay if we continued, which scared me because I hate seeing him upset. We got a bit scared as well and eventually all broke out in laughter (we didn't even last 10 minutes lmao), he lightened up again and said he initially wondered what he did to make us mad at him, which I thought was adorable.

Day 2: What is the earliest thing you can remember about your TC?

The first thing I remember is seeing his name on my friend’s timetable on the first day of the year he came to our school, and not knowing how to pronounce it because I’d never seen it before. I really can’t remember my first impression of him as a person, though, it was years before he started teaching me.

Day 3: Do you like your TC’s subject? Do you consider yourself to be good at it?

I do like English to an extent, I find it fascinating, and I have gotten very good at it, but none of it felt natural if that makes sense? My love for other subjects like science is intuitive and I am naturally good at it, but I had to fight really hard for English because of T.

Although I did get a top-of-the-class grade for a test some time near the end of the year before I got him as a teacher, so maybe I was already kind of decent at it, but let's just say the first half a year of being in love with T was torture because English was so hard for me.

Day 4: How do you feel about your age gap?

Ngl I have had quite a few TCs and my age gap with T is in the middle of that range. As for age gaps in general, yes I do wish we didn’t have this canyon time in between us that I could never cross, and I wish I didn’t feel so immature and like a child compared to my TCs, but it is, naturally, what gives the unique traits of these crushes. Even though I don’t love T because he is older, him being older means he is more sophisticated and wise and moral and has his life together, which I do love. These experiences wouldn’t really be what they are without the age gap, and I’m learning to sort of appreciate that.

Day 5: Have you ever said anything to your TC that showed you favoured them? Have they said anything like that to you?

Umm I guess that time when S was supporting me for an application, I actually originally asked T but he was already supporting someone else, and he later asked me if I found another teacher so I said S. He was like ah and smiled… AND I JOKED THAT S WAS "the second best choice", second to him. It was clearly a joke but I did mean it. As for the other way around, he has said before that I am one of the best in the year so there’s that.

Day 6: Have you ever noticed any small habits that they have? If so, what comes to mind first?

Spinning his pen in his hand while he's working (it’s actually very impressive to watch and very hot), biting the end of his pen, and wrapping his leg around the table leg sometimes when he's sitting on top of one of the empty tables.

Day 7: What gift would you really like to be able to give them, regardless of if it’s realistic or not?

Before I knew he was leaving this year I wanted to give him a collection of poems I had written for him when I graduate, since he has helped me in my poetry writing, but now that can’t happen. I would also love to give him something related to any texts he taught us in English but ik it won’t mean as much to him as it does to me.

Day 8: Does your TC ever talk about what it was like when they were still a student?

Yes, T likes to incorporate his own experiences into his teaching which I absolutely love. He often mentioned not being good at science subjects back in school, which is a bit sad because I like the sciences and I am good at it, but it’s also cute to think that there are things he doesn’t know or can’t do. I also just love being reminded that he is still a real person, with real relationships and real pasts.

Day 9: Does your TC have a significant other? If so, what do you know about them and how do you feel about them?

Okay I might have written this question just to gush about S oops-

T and S really have a beautiful relationship, I love seeing them together (she teaches at our school too btw in case anyone hasn’t heard me gushing about her). S and I basically have the same first name, so I think she was always aware of my existence even though she didn’t teach our class a lot. We got to an actual 'know each other' stage a year ago, since then I would greet her if I see her around school and hope she remembers me. Then there was the application she helped me with some months ago, which really got us closer and she gave me so much support.

S is such an inspiration to me, she is so strong and so kind, and she stands for a lot of the things I believe in. I haven’t seen her in forever since we’re online or talked, I'm afraid I might never see her again :,(

Day 10: What is the longest time you have gone without seeing them?

If online learning doesn’t count as "seeing them", then it would be the online learning period when the pandemic first broke out in 2020. If we don’t go back to school soon, then this will be the longest, which absolutely sucks since it’s so close to T leaving.

Day 11: What do other people usually think about them?

People who have never been taught by him find him a bit scary (as I also did in the past), but his students usually really like him as a teacher and we all recognise how well he teaches - a bit too much that I can get jealous sometimes lol.

Day 12: Do you often make up excuses to speak to them? What kinds of excuses do you like to use?

Lmaoo all the time, it’s usually asking for help on English or the essay he’s mentoring me on or poetry and stuff. Once I even went to him after school to ask for lined paper because he gave us the choice of hand-writing or typing a homework and I wanted to make the point to him that I was hand-writing it like he wanted.

Day 13: Other than the subject they teach, what are they really passionate about?

I think sports and history are the main ones. He also really likes watching films and has somewhat strong political views.

Day 14: What is a skill you really wish your TC had?

PLAYING THE GUITAR it suits his style so well!!! Also I play guitar so I imagine us playing the same song together and-

Day 15: Which MBTI personality do you think they are? (If you don't do MBTI, which Hogwarts House do you think they would be in?)

I get ENTJ vibes based on the break down of the four categories, but some of the general traits attributed to ENTJs don’t fit. Maybe ESTJ.

As for Houses, he said himself that he’s probably a Ravenclaw with some Gryffindor, which was exactly what I had guessed before asking him that question (so proud smh).

Day 16: If you could go back in time and choose, would you still choose to develop feelings for your TC?

Definitely. This journey hasn’t been easy at all (especially now) but it is so rewarding. I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. I wouldn't even know what I would spend all my waking daylight thinking about if I wasn't in love with T that'd be so boring.

Day 17: If it was the last time you would ever be able to see your TC, what is one thing you would never leave without saying to them?

It feels terrible to answer this when the exact scenario is going to happen in two months… I have been vaguely planning out what I would say to T on the last day (debated over confessing or not), and as of now I just want to tell him how important he is to me and how much I admire him as a teacher, how much he has impacted my life, etc. etc. I need him to know that he matters to me.

It hurts a hundred times worse that all of this is contingent on us being able to return to school before the summer; I might not be able to see him again for the last time.

Day 18: When was the first time you cried because of them?

I must have mentioned before that I first realised he was a TC to me when he took us on a school trip abroad? We returned really late at night and were on the bus back from the airport, I sat quite close to his seat so I could see him, and I cried in the dark knowing that it was all going to be over soon. I still miss that trip to this day :,\

Day 19: How well do you think you know them?

I’m pretty good at remembering things about him and he has told us and revealed to us a lot in the past two and a half years, so I would say I know him quite well. Still not really on a personal level, though.

Day 20: Do you ever lie to them? About what?

We rarely talk about things that would require me to lie to him? Like I’ve never missed any work so I never had to make excuses, and he never questions things that might have been suspicious because of my feelings. The only time I could think of is when he was helping with my poetry writing and I was writing a poem for S - I had to say it was inspired by a TV show because I was using female pronouns lol.

Day 21: What is the longest time you have spent together with them?

That day when we came back from the school trip he took us on - the day after I realised I liked him, I was around him for almost the entire day (12+ hours) and it was so nice ;-;

What I actually had in mind while writing this question though was a year ago today, we were in school and I spent four hours with him to help lead an event for his after school activity. We felt more like equals then and I loved feeling like he trusted and relied on me. How can it be a year already???

Day 22: If you have had other TCs in the past (or right now), how are they similar to or different from your current (or primary) TC?

I have a lot of ex-TCs so I’ll write about my current ones… Obviously there’s S, his wife, and surprisingly they’re actually quite different people? I love hearing about their differences and at the same time being reminded of how in love they are. They do share a common interest in sport (among other things of course) and similar values.

L and K are both quite different to T; L mostly because of the subjects she teaches and her bold, vibrant energy, and K mostly because of his sensitive nature and dramatic personality. T is never as strict or unpredictable as K and K is never as commanding and organised, but their subjects do overlap considerably and T sometimes teaches us terminology I learnt from K.

Day 23: Have you ever seen your TC in clothes they don’t usually wear? Casual clothes if they usually wear formal attire or the other way around?

T always wore suits in school, even in online learning. We had a few non-uniform days in the past when T would dress in casual clothes, and I always loved it because he looked so real - a normal, alive human being just like us. I have also bumped into him outside of school a few times and seen him in his own clothes. On days with sporting events (and, this year, every week on the day he taught us phys ed) he would wear our school's uniforms for phys ed teachers. I especially love seeing him in a particular blue hoodie, it makes him look about ten years younger 🥰

Day 24: When was the last time they made your heart thump?

On Friday when I was waiting for our one-on-one conversations about my progress in English. For some reason, the anticipation is always worse online, it was this way when I was waiting for results, for our meetings about my essay, even for normal English lessons. I was so nervous that time, and, it turned out, rightly so (see last update). But to be honest, any time I see him makes my heart beat.

Day 25: How do you think your TC would react if you confided in them when you felt sad or stressed or anxious?

I wonder about this all the time, especially after I confided in my ex-TC about my bad mental health (almost two years ago now). I am so tempted to find out with T, but whenever I get near that point something about his behaviour makes me think he won't react the way I want him to. Especially now that we are online, it is frustratingly hard. I imagine him being gentle and reassuring me and telling me that he believes in me, that he recognises my hard work and that I have always been good enough :,(

Day 26: What is the best dream you have had of them?

The most intimate dream I had was of T and I sitting side by side on a table, and his arm was surrounding my waist and I was leaning into him. I have also dreamt of holding his hand or him confessing to me (*cringes*). Sometimes it would be quite elaborate, us spending a lot of time together because of a school event or something, and those dreams are also really nice.

Day 27: What is the saddest/scariest dream you have had of them?

I have a lot more of these... Dreaming of him leaving usually hurts the most because I know it will happen soon. The scariest is probably that time when I dreamt that he was kidnapped and was going to die unless we find him in a very short time? The fear of losing him was very real. And then I performed an autopsy on him and held his heart in my hands lmao.

Day 28: Does your TC ever bring you up to other students/teachers that you know of?

Another English teacher told me that T would sometimes show her my essays because they were some of the best in our year group 🥰 There was also when T gave me a really special English award and the teacher who oversaw our year group came to congratulate me, saying T had mentioned it to him and had said that I was one of the best students he had ever taught. I am bawling from that memory.

Day 29: Do you see them as being a romantic person? Are you?

I am a very helpless romantic (as evident in this blog lmao) and I get the feeling that T is quite romantic as well. Not as badly as I am, of course, he is very much realistic and composed and mature, but just in the most everyday details. I feel so sure that he would do small gestures for S, arrange a surprise for her every now and then, value her above most other things, go out of his way to be around her,,

Day 30: How have they changed since you two first met? How have you changed?

I don't remember as much about T from when he first started teaching me, even less from when he first came to the school. In general, I think he has gotten much more comfortable with our class, and he is more assertive as a person and more involved in things within the school. As for me, apart from obviously being two years older and hopefully more mature/less obnoxious, loving T for this long has really led me to take joy in fighting for someone and be even more reliant on academic validation. I am more aware of my feelings because I grapple with them every day, and T has reinforced a lot of the values I held but wasn't as aware of. I've loved this journey so much I cannot believe it is coming to an end soon.

#tc #tc community #teacher crush #male tc #tc challenge #april tc challenge

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notworking-com · 3 months

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you make me feel inadequate. i’ve been trying to put this misery and all the damage that comes with them into better choices of words so i can manipulate them into some trashy poetry and make some good damage out of it, but that’s just it. looking at you, thinking about you, all the sudden impulses in crowded places like i was back in tenth grade again and have never grown out of it, that’s all it brings. the feeling of inadequacy, immaturity, anxiety, pictures of ships sinking, regrets, reminders of incapability and might-haves, insecurities, resentment, jealousy, brief admiration, before follows up again with silent screams and buried shouts all echoing the same things.

i wish i’m as smart as i was. i wish i’m as pretty as others and have a pleasing smile and a collected manner and is always grateful and have a melodic laugh. and i wish i’m dedicated and not lazy and don’t spend most of my time listening to sad songs while wishing too desperately that i’ll be sick so i won’t have to go out the next day. i wish i could be the way i was, maybe then i could have what i want for myself, being aboard and out of this place, and get you to notice me. i wish i could be different, i wish i’m not the way i am. i wish i’m better, and i wish i have not turned out the way i did. and i hate mirrors and cameras and pictures and reflections and food and sometimes i feel like i want to carve my face and my body into something i actually like.

i get jealous of people now. so jealous it’s unhealthy. i know it will come to bite me someday. as a lesson for having a black heart and acting immature at the age of sixteen. i wish i can be like her, or her, who has the patience the size of the seven seas and is always fun to be around. i wish i’m not one of those people who feels like they have to broadcast their pain indirectly but loudly on their face. i wish i’m not like one of those people who craves to be seen.

i will see people i don’t know on my screen, and think that if only i had been like them, maybe i will be on the right track for once. maybe i will achieve what i want. maybe then i will like myself. maybe then you will like me.

sometimes i want to strangle you for making me so acutely aware of everything i am now. i was happier when i wasn’t. but now that i’m out of that blissful smoke of ignorance, i can’t go back anymore. i hate whatever it was under my skin, they don’t feel right. i hate the way i’m standing, sleeping, writing, walking, running, reading, i hate everything.

and i feel so low. i wanted to cry at the station, i can barely be nice to people, i’m so tired and i’m not even doing anything. i want to call off sick tomorrow but i don’t look weak enough to be sick anymore. i’m shitty to my friends, i feel like i’m more capable to be nicer to strangers i’ve seen around, which is so fucking messed up. i want to stop time, but i believe time has its personal vengeance against me and i can’t control it.

i‘m easily irritated, i’m not accomplished. and if i’m not nice and kind, then who am i anymore? i’m not smart, i’m not fast, i’m not easy going, i’m not competent. then what am i.

i just keep thinking about how he will go on do great things, and so will her and her and her and my sisters and people who are younger than me, and i keep thinking about how all i will do is watch them and see them grow while this regret and resentment and bitterness will only grow until a monster of a sort will form itself within the depths of my body, uncurling at the ribs that used to get hurt when i was laughing boisterously with them. how i will spend the rest of my years regretting being young and stupid and paralyzed by things in my head, and that no one will ever look at me anymore with horrible expectations, but something even worse. pity.

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aeslandsong · 9 months

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so if you read my whole blog, you will come across my poetry. it was an attempt to try and be a support for people that were interested in my site www.aeslandsong.com but i would rather free write and be myself and make mistakes, even if i sound like an idiot. i know i can write well, but sometimes it's more fun to know someone's personality that's more so free flow and really them than constructed art that i put more thought into. what i experienced when i read over my blog is that is had a different tone and my therapy in writing it became therapy in reading it. it was a pleasant feeling and made me feel good as i know my regular journaling is immature and more so my playful self compared to my poetry. i just want to be me instead of trying to impress another person. and yes, i update a lot and yes i may annoy you because of it. i would rather be cuddling with someone right now but that's in due time. i've been complaining about wanting a boyfriend for awhile. if ur my bf, ur taking pics of me and we are going to monetize off of it, okay?!? unless you want to support me and my nudes can just be for your eyes only. i know i'm special enough to find a supportive partner. i know there has to be someone out there that loves me and is just not saying it because i may reject them. and i very well may, as i put out there what i'm looking for. if i had a crush on you in the past, i probably still think about you from time to time as thoughts drift through for me and they make me upset with how embarrassing i have been. yes, my heart aches over my past. i wish i didn't hold such attachment towards others that couldn't care less about me and just think i'm a stupid slut to them. yes, i see friendships online between people in person on social media and it makes me hold slight envy and think about how i don't have anyone like that dedicated to me and proud enough to show me off. i think i need to leave the area and make new connections. maybe i could find love in california, i've never been there but i've wanted to go for over a decade. why haven't i? my life was controlled by my mom and now it's controlled by the system. i live on a limited income. i am still of worth though, and i need to get better. i need to get healthier and to try and achieve my dreams of being in a relationship with another creative person that adores me and would do anything for me. i am cute as shit, just crazy. but i handle everything pretty well now. and yes, i'm cuter now that i hold stability and i'm losing weight everyday. i'm geting my hair done before i go out this weekend and i hope someone flirts with me and does it in a respectful way by just having a conversation with me and making me feel like a human being! all i want is respect, even if i do take racy photos and you think of me as sorta a slut. it makes me feel free to do it and that's why i do it. and i want to continue to do it, but i want someone to take my photos and videos instead and capture the best of me, especially once i reach my goals when it comes to being healthier. i don't want to settle for a bum, i want a real guy that can take the role of a proper emotional, physical, situational, and financial support system for me. if i had someone in my life that treated me with respect and kindness and loved me for me and WANTED to support me because they know i have a mental illness that's a special case to be considered on disability over it, i would exnay on the the content creation idea. but at the same time, it'd be fun to have my photo taken by my lover. i could keep it personal too, as i've been public about it seeking attention from someone when they were all just bums and not my type of person to even have a conversation with. i want my equal, just a better version and my perfect counterpart that fits me like a puzzle in all the places that need to be filled and are missing. i think that would actually make me feel whole.

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bokashi · 3 years

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Legit My Favorite Fics of All Time Holy Shit (Haikyuu)

I'll organize it by ship and try to include some details. I have a massive, well-organized folder of fics (probably over 100 fics jeez), but these are my favorites, the ones I've reread the most, or have taken up a lot of my headspace. Enjoy. :)

Bokuaka <3

Rules - ConesOfDunshire - Explicit, AU: Musician Autistic Bokuto, Accountant Akaashi - A bokuaka classic and probably my favorite Haikyuu fic of all time. Truly my favorite (top 3 at the very least). It's such a lovely story with minimal angst and a frick ton of fluff, and we get to watch as these two beautiful boys fall in love with each other. Well worth the read.

This Smacks of Rainbows - darkgaaraluver - Teen, AU: soulmates, still volleyball players at fukurodani, pre-canon, reincarnation - I love reading stories from Akaashi's perspective because he is a poetry gay and so we get the most beautiful language when describing Bokuto. There is so much pining and angst in this it hurts. Truly, this fic causes pain, but the comfort that follows is so sweet, that it makes it worth it. I reread this one at least 5 times after first discovering it.

like patience on a monument - titanscrow - Teen, Canon Compliant, slow-burn - Literally just read this one. That's how good it is. I already KNOW that this will be on my list. As the author says in the notes, they're allergic to sadness, so although this is a slow burn, there isn't a lot of angst in my opinion. Seeing Bokuto from Akaashi's eyes is once again, one of the most beautiful things, but we also get peeks at how Bokuto views Akaashi and that's honestly what changed this story from really good to an absolute favorite. (Note: it's all from Akaashi's POV, but when you get there, you'll know what I mean.) The author also came out with a new bokuaka fic (~5000 words) and I am IN LOVE WITH IT. So please read that too!

O-week is Wild - KnottyRoses - Teen, AU: College, FLUFF, COMFORT, BEAUTY, GRACE - This is my comfort fic. Feeling down? Read this because your mood will be lifted. We follow bokuaka during O-week (a Canadian term, but basically college/uni orientation). Bokuto is such a sweetheart. Characterization may be a little off (for Akaashi moreso), but I truly dream that this is how their personalities would develop in this universe, so it doesn't matter!!

polaris - ClementineKitten - Teen, AU: reincarnation, pining - Honestly what really gets me about this fic is Fates' little mentions of their previous lives. I love watching these boys fall in love through snippets and this is the perfect fic for that.

how you wish it would be all the time - drifting_i - General, Slow burn, post-time skip, "domestic bliss" - I think about this fic all the time. It hits me when I least expect it. Personally, I love the idea of Bokuto and Akaashi keeping in contact and seeing each other when they can, and this fic is an amazing example of that. And really, it is so freaking well written. I fell in love with this story and I hope you do to.

Iwaoi

Six-Month Lover - afuzzyowl - Explicit, pining, fluff and angst (a lovely combo, but if you're afraid of angst, it's not that bad!) - This one is so cute, and it's from an alternating POV, which is always nice with longer fics. It's particularly lovely because we get to watch Iwa fall for Oikawa (and using the best metaphor to justify it, a door opens—I realize now that sounds like a flattykawa joke, but I really just like that metaphor). But anyways, the way Hajime falls is soft and beautiful and it makes me believe in good things?! I just love it.

I sure hope that guy gets fired - Xov - Teen, time loop, pining, pre-time skip - This is another fic that is in my top 3. Truly, one of the best. *chef's kiss* I'm a sucker for fics with supernatural elements (body swap, etc.). We once again watch Iwa fall in love (are you sensing a pattern), and his POV is so wonderful. It's so well written and feels in character. Watching the relationship between Oikawa and Iwa bloom makes my heart swell. Please, please read this one.

and suddenly, we were strangers - izayas - Teen, angst with happy ending, amnesia, canon divergence, time skip - This made me cry for so many reasons. It's a rollercoaster of feelings and although the angst is there, iwaoi are still pretty much together, so it doesn't always feel like angst, it just feels like a speedbump on their road to happiness. And it diverges from the other two: this time we watch Oikawa fall in love, although for very different reasons! :) :(

you'd be happier instead if you stayed in [my] bed // sometimes b sides are the best songs - ClementineKitten + overwhelmingly_awesome - Mature, time skip, angst (up the wazoo), alcohol, pining, infidelity (iwa has a fiance) - CRAP! I love this one!! I think this is the last of the top 3. It's a two-parter, links included for both parts. We return to formula with Iwa being behind on the whole feelings thing (what's new). And it hurts and it heals? This fic is truly hurt/comfort for the soul. And also shockingly rational, which is often unusual in Iwaoi fics. They approach situations like adults (mostly... cheating is wrong straight up, so that's immature). If you're looking for adult Hajime and Tooru, I'm pleased to say that this feels like two adults figuring out a tough situation patiently. That's just one way to sell this wonderful fic, I could go on... But I won't...

lips like sugar - ohhotlamb - Teen, first kiss, canon compliant, (1 teeny tiny boner), kissing practice - YES! I shall include 1 kissing practice fic, it would be rude not to! No more elaboration because it's short enough for you to enjoy on your own!! And it's KISSING PRACTICE, come on, why are you still here, GO READ THIS FIC!

Matsuhana

聞けよ [Ask] - AshenBee - Teen, slow burn, time skip, quarter-life crisis (lol relatable tag), unemployed hanamaki <3 - What a beautiful story... I love Matsuhana content. We get little snippets of these boys just trying to figure out life and it's wonderful. LOTS of pining. Hanamaki moves in with Matsukawa for a bit. I don't even know how to sell this fic because it kind of sells itself. It's a character study of Hanamaki and as a young adult going through similar quarter-life crises, it's relatable and helps to deal with those feelings.

call me maybe - totooru - Teen, partially a text fic (not all of it, lots of writing), HUMOR, fluff, AU where Mattsun goes to Karasuno - Let me tell you this is straight up the funniest fic I've read. I cackled out loud so many times. It's insane. I'm an easy laugh, so maybe that says something, but either way, if you need something to lift you up, this is a greater fic for it. No angst, just prolonging the inevitable, and two boys who basically fell for each other right off the bat. A dynamic duo truly.

Miya Atsumu & Osamu (BIG BIG SPOILERS FOR THE FIC IN THIS DESCRIPTION, JUST BEWARE IF YOU WANT TO GO IN BLIND)

for just another day - sieges - General, canon divergence, photography, BIG SPOILER BUT I DON'T WANT TO SEND PEOPLE IN BLIND BECAUSE IT MIGHT WRECK YOU: major character death - This fic holds a special place in my heart for many reasons, but mostly because I lost my brother a little over a year ago. Completely different from this situation, but nonetheless, incredibly difficult. I 100% sobbed reading this fic. And it really helped me unpack a new part of my grief and my relationship with my brother. I really love what this story did with handling the death of a sibling, not sure if the author went through something like this, but it felt very real to me. (And now all I crave is Miya twins angst...) Also, I swear there's some form of closure. It's not terribly sad! It obviously deals with heavy topics, but at least for me, it felt like being wrapped up in a blanket and being told that everything will be okay.

I try to avoid sadness and angst at all costs (that one bokuaka fic that shall go unnamed really did a number on my grieving ass, so I can't handle anything like that anymore—it was so bad that I had to unpack it in therapy, jeez...). Most of these fics have mild angst or a lot of fluff to make up for heavy angst. There are definitely a lot of angst fics that I have saved, but obviously, that's not always my favorite brand for shipping (I just want everyone to be happy most of the time). Let me know if you read/have read any of these, I'm always up for discussion. :)

#fic recommendation #haikyuu #bokuaka #iwaoi #matsuhana #miya twins #atsumu #osamu #haikyuu!!#fics

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jaceyneedsabetterusername · 3 years

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Hayloft p.3

Pairing: Arvin Russell x F!Reader

Summary: Your dad brings home his new coworker, Arvin Russell, telling you that he’ll be living with the two of you for a while. While attempting to keep Arvin from seeing the disfunction of your relationship with your father, the two of you grow closer than you thought. (Inspired by “Hayloft” by Mother Mother, though that’ll really only be one chapter later on so I don’t know if it really counts…)

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, death, abuse, and sexual assault (depictions of none, though)

Word Count: 5.0k

A/N: I am so sorry for how long this took to publish! Work and school have been CRAZY!

Citation: (This is absolutely cited incorrectly but the poem included was found at this link!) https://rememberingthesixties.wordpress.com/2014/11/15/love-poems

Read the Previous Chapters!

Part 1 Part 2

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“No! No! No! I ain’t got time for this today!” You groaned, twisting your key in the ignition only to hear the engine struggle to turn over. You were already running late to work, thanks to you misplacing your shoes, purse, and keys all on the same morning. When it was really only just you, your dad, and Arvin living in your home, it was ridiculous to be losing things as often as you did. It’s not like they were touching them. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think there was some gremlin that lived in the linen closet and hid your things to make life more difficult.

Of course, your car wouldn’t work either. What a fantastic beginning to the day.

You weren’t even sure what could be wrong with the car. It had worked just fine yesterday. There was no reason for it to suddenly fall apart on you. But alas, after several minutes of trying to start the car and checking what basic things you knew about under the hood to no avail, you gave out a groan of anger, “Damnit!”

With an angry kick of your old tire, you stomped back into the house. “Everythin' okay?” Arvin asked from the dining room table, where he sat eating a plate of toast and eggs.

“I was already running late this morning and now my stupid car won’t start,” you grumbled, throwing your purse onto the open chair and taking the phone off the receiver on the wall with more aggression than you intended. You were spinning the dial and putting in the phone number to the diner you worked at.

Arvin leaned forward in his seat, “I can take a look at it for you, if you’d like.”

“That would be great if you’re willing to but-” You began to answer but you stopped abruptly and held up a finger to him when a voice answered on the phone.

“Molly’s Diner. How can I help ya?” A woman’s voice that you recognized as your coworker Charlene asked from the other side.

“Hey, Charlene?” You asked, shooting Arvin an apologetic look for the sudden interruption. She sounded surprised to hear your greeting on the other end.

“Where you at, girl?” She questioned, the ambient wound of the busy diner in the background.

You leaned against the wall, gripping the phone with both hands, “I know I’m late! I’m sorry! My car broke down and I don’t think I can make it-”

“I can give you a ride if you need.” Arvin offered quiet enough for Charlene to not hear him on the other end but you perked up.

“Wait, hang on-” You interrupted Charlene just as she began to respond, “I can actually get a ride in.” You mouthed a sincere thank you to Arvin while holding onto the phone with both hands, feeling a slight glimmer of hope in your otherwise crappy day.

“You know what? Don’t even worry about it. You’re already so late just take the day off and get your car fixed. Just be here tomorrow, alright?” You could almost hear the way Charlene’s hand was waving dismissively from the other end of the phone.

You sighed in relief, “Thank you so much. I’ll make it up to you!” After a few brief goodbyes, you hung the phone up on the receiver.

Arvin stood up and placed his plate in the sink, “So are you needin’ a ride to work?”

You shook your head, “No, Charlene said to just take the day off ‘n get the car fixed. Thank you, though. It really is sweet of you to offer.”

Arvin only shrugged, “C’mon, after all you done for me, givin’ you a ride into town really ain’t much at all. I’d still be more than happy to take a look under your hood if you’d like.”

You blushed and tried to suppress the immature giggles that threatened to slip out at the way he worded his offer. His face visibly paled and began to stumble over his words, “‘m sorry! I didn’t mean for it to come out like that! I didn’t mean take a look under your… erm. I ain’t too good with my words sometimes. Forgive me.”

You laughed outright now, stepping forward and trying to pull his nervously fidgeting arms down, “It’s okay! You’re fine! You’re fine! I would love it if you looked under my hood.” You teased, overexaggerating the way you emphasized his words, throwing them back at him.

He rolled his eyes at you, an embarrassed smile pulling the corner of his lips upwards, before looking back down at you. It was then that you realized just how close you and Arvin were, your fingers still loosely touching his forearms where they had fallen. You looked up into his eyes - those soulful brown eyes - and found yourself wanting to know everything that they’d seen.

That familiar heat rose to your cheeks and you pulled your hands back, running them up and down the white apron you wore over teal uniform, “Well, um, I’m gonna go get changed outta this if I ain’t gotta wear it for work and then I can help you out with the car?”

Arvin’s hands found their way to his pockets and he nodded in understanding.

You had changed into a pair of jeans with a buttoned up blouse before jogging out front to find Arvin already bent over the exposed inner workings of your car. “How’s it lookin’?” You asked, slowing to a pace until you reached the car. You landed beside him, hands falling on the dirty metal as you leaned over to see the mechanics. He fiddled with a few things here and there, things that you didn’t quite understand. You were good with the basics of fixing your car. You could change the oil and fix a flat but when it came to the more complicated stuff, you were a little less well-versed.

He leaned back and wiped his greasy hands on each other, “I think I have the problem pinpointed. ‘M gonna need to head into town and get a part but it’s not a hard fix at all.”

“Thank you so much for doin’ this. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You took a few steps back as Arvin lowered the hood, letting it fall the last few inches with a heavy thud.

“Yeah, well I’m happy I can finally be some help ‘round here to you.”

You rolled your eyes, following Arvin back to the house, “Please, you are plenty of help ‘round here. More help than I’ve gotten in years.”

Arvin gave you a knowing tight-lipped smile and nodded once the two of you made it through the front door. He didn’t say anything for a moment but there was a silent understanding. “You need anything while I’m out?” He asked, changing the subject.

You shook your head, “No, I’m alright. Thank you though.”

It was rare that you actually had time to yourself. While Arvin was gone, you found yourself wandering around confused for a short while until the buzzing silence wore on your ears. You sat on the couch and pulled the radio over closer to you on the coffee table, looking over your shoulder as if someone would catch you at any moment.

This was one of your secrets that you held close to you, knowing your father would make fun of you if he ever found out. Moon River had been a favorite radio program of yours since you discovered it while tuning through the stations a year back. It was full of romantic poetry and slow beautiful music. Everything you dreamt about but knew you could never have, not while you were stuck here at least. But a girl could dream.

“Tonight’s love poem is written by Betty Hayes Albright. We hope you enjoy.

They tell me not to write of love

but what else can I write –

when love is in my heart and soul

and mind both day and night?

“You’re just too young and you can’t know

of love,” (does anyone?)

“you can’t profess such knowledge –

stick to verse and pun.”

They tell me that, and say love poems

are worn out through and through

but I can’t agree with them,

for me love is brand new.

Feelings in me can’t stay down,

my love for him I can’t ignore,

somehow it’s got to be expressed,

“I’ve got no lock upon my door.”

To those who stick to subjects

of the sky and stars, of joy and pain

I write my poems of love because

my heart’s love-blood shall never drain.

Perhaps they too shall love again.”

You sighed as it came to an end and you couldn’t help but see Arvin’s face in your mind’s eye. Love had always felt like something you could only dream of. It was a “one day when I get out of here” thought, not something you saw yourself obtaining for a long time, if ever. Now with Arvin… well you weren’t sure if you could call it love but it sure as hell was the closest thing to it you’d experienced.

Since the words were spoken, they kept swirling around your head: “When love is in my heart and soul; and mind both day and night.” Since his arrival two months ago, Arvin had been that very subject on your mind almost constantly. He was the first face you hoped to see every morning and the last one you wanted to see before bed. Your entire mood lit up every time he walked into the room, even when you were stressed from work or your father. It hadn’t been hard for you to realize that he became the lighthouse in the rocky ocean, promising solace and providing light in the storm that could be your life at times. It was hard to not fall for that.

"Never heard that one before." You whipped around in a panicked start to see Arvin standing in the foyer. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

You shook your head and tucked your hair behind your ears, "No, no, you're fine. You read a lot of poetry?" You watched Arvin shake his head and walk into the room. He stopped on the other side of the couch and you climbed up, placing your knees on the cushions and leaning over the back of the couch to look up at him.

"I don't like poetry all that much, at least the ones we read in high school… but I like that one." He looked down at where his hand gripped the back of the couch and his weight shifted on his feet.

Your eyes fell to his hands in an attempt to hide the blush that crept up on your cheeks that really had no place being there. "Yeah… me too. It reminds me that there is real love out there in the world."

A silence settled over the room as your eyes anxiously dragged up Arvin’s body till they settled on his eyes but you found yourself unable to hold his gaze. "I, erm, I got the part I need for your car." He took a step back and lifted the hand that wasn't on the couch, tossing the metal mechanism in his hand.

"Oh," you pressed yourself away from the couch and moved back to stand, "thank you for runnin’ all the way out into town."

He gave you a small smile and a nod, “It’s my pleasure. I’m gonna go see if this fixes the problem.”

***

"That should be it," Arvin slammed the hood back down and wiped his hands on his jeans. "We should take her for a drive to see if she's runnin' alright now."

You nodded, "Alright. Hop in." You took the keys from your pocket and gestured to the passenger seat. Arvin climbed in and you slid into the driver's seat, turning the key. This time, the engine started up without a problem. A big smile spread across your face, "You're a miracle worker, you know that?"

Arvin shook his head, "I ain't no miracle worker. Just good with fixin' things I s'pose."

Your feet were on the brake and the clutch when you shifted into first gear and began to peel out down the long dirt driveway. You stopped at the road and looked both ways, trying to decide which way to go. You looked to your right, the road into town, and then to the left, the way to that field that was oh so special to you. You began to gnaw at your lower lip.

Did you want to show Arvin? That little clearing by the creek had been your secret getaway since you’d discovered it three years ago. You never told anybody about it and you’d never seen anyone else there when you went so, as far as you were concerned, it was yours. Your special hide away, your paradise, your escape. But since his arrival, Arvin had become just that as well.

“You alright?” He questioned, looking over at you with a vaguely concerned expression.

You looked over at him, a nervous twist to your lips, “Can I show you somewhere special?” Perhaps it was an odd question to ask, though you hadn’t thought it was until you saw the curious and somewhat confused look dawn on Arvin’s face. Nevertheless, he nodded and, with a smile, you turned left towards the field.

It was a short but otherwise successful, trouble-free drive. You slowed down and pulled off to the side of the road into the dirt shoulder. “Where are we?” Arvin asked, looking around and seeing nothing but tall grass and trees.

With an impish smile, you turned off the ignition and looked towards him, “You’ll see. C’mon!” You threw your door open and walked around the front of the car towards the passenger’s side, hanging on the passenger door when Arvin finally opened the door to exit the vehicle.

He followed you to the edge of the brush where you walked as if you knew it like home. With minimal effort, you found the overgrown path and pulled him along behind you. The road disappeared behind the two of you as you wandered beyond the tree line, tall birch trees creating a maze that you knew by heart. The path was short and you navigated it with a sixth sense until you led Arvin to a small field. There was an imperfect circle of wild grasses beside a stream that seemingly appeared from nowhere but you knew it was that time of year when the snow started melting off the mountains. Bundles of wildflowers grew mixed in the grass. Just along the bank of the crystal clear creek water was a large dogwood tree with vibrant white flowers.

“Wow…” Arvin breathed out in amazement as he tried to take in the beauty of the place.

“Pretty, ain’t it?” You asked with a smile, the wonder in his brown eyes warming your heart. You were glad that he seemed to appreciate it as much as you did.

You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face as your heart welled with happiness at his stunned reaction. He stepped in a slow circle, taking in the beautiful scenery. “It’s beautiful.”

“This is sorta my… escape from reality, I guess you could call it. I come here and I’m suddenly in a different world away from all the bullshit of life.” You reached down to run your fingers through the soft blades of grass. Arvin smirked and you looked up at him with a short breathy laugh, “What?”

He shook his head and looked down, hands buried in his pockets as always, “I think that’s the first time I ever heard you curse.”

You rolled your eyes, “I don’t do it very often. My daddy would always yell at me tellin’ me how un-ladylike it was to say bad words. Told me it made me sound ugly. I think his exact words were ‘a dirty mouth makes a dirty woman.’” Your voice dropped to mock your father.

Arvin spoke plainly, “Your pa needs to treat you better.”

You gave him a sad knowing smile and looked down at the ground, “It wasn’t always like this, y’know? I think that’s the saddest part.”

“What you mean?” Arvin asked.

You sat down on the grass, feeling the soft blades press against your skin as you sat back on your hands. Arvin followed suit, finding a comfortable spot beside you and waiting for you to continue. “When my momma was alive, he hardly ever drank. Wasn’t nothing like he is now. I think that’s the only reason I’ve put up with as much as I have. I hate seeing this miserable shell of the man I once knew but I also know that a real father wouldn’t have let himself fall into this pit - or at least stay down there long enough to practically leave his daughter to fend for herself. I just always hoped that maybe one day he’d pull through and… y’know… be my dad again.”

You laid back on the ground and stared up at the sky. The clouds passed by, white and weightless, pure and unaffected by the troubles of this world. You envied them. The way they floated along, either bringing shade and beauty to the sky or raging unapologetic storms, with no constraints as to where they could float and how they could behave… it made you wish you could be a cloud.

Arvin was silent, unsure of how to respond. He wanted to offer words of support and encouragement but he never had been too good with words. He hadn’t really been taught to talk about problems. His daddy had taught him to finish them with his fists. Finally, he sighed, looking out across the field, “I understand. I felt the same way ‘bout my daddy.”

You perched up on your elbows, “Really?”

He nodded and looked down at his leg, which he was slowly rolling side to side just to keep fidgeting in some way, “Yeah… he, uh, he changed into a totally different man after my mama died.”

You looked up at him but you could see he was trying to avoid your eyes. You rested a gentle hand on his knee, “‘M sorry, Arvin. I had no idea.”

He shook his head, “Nah, don’t be. It’s been a long time.”

“D-do you mind if I ask what happened?” You cautiously inquired but quickly added, “Of course, it’s fine if not. You just… you don’t talk much ‘bout yourself.”

Arvin took a deep breath in, “My mama died when I was ‘bout ten. Cancer took her. My daddy tried everythin’ to keep her alive but when it didn’t work… he killed ‘imself too.”

This time you were unsure of how to respond, stunned by the new information you’d just learned. “I-I’m so sorry,” you breathed out in disbelief. For some reason, you had never thought that perhaps Arvin could have had a similar childhood experience to you, like losing your mothers, but your heart went out to him.

“It took a long time for me to understand why he did what he did but I finally realized that he just loved my mama so much that he couldn’t bear to be away from her.”

“He should’ve loved you enough to stay for you.” Before you could stop yourself, the stunning but honest words slipped from your lips. You damn near stopped breathing when you realized what you said, “I’m sorry. That was out of line. I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s alright.” Arvin had been stunned by the words that came out of your mouth but he knew damn well they were only a vocalization of a thought he had had almost every day since the day his father put a bullet in his head. “I’d be lyin’ if I said I hadn’t thought the same thing before.”

A heavy silence weighed over the two of you that was only relieved by a cool breeze. “So what happened to your mama?” Arvin asked.

Your face twisted, “Labor complications. She was pregnant with my little sister. When she went into labor, things just went really wrong. She lost too much blood ‘n died. The baby died too. I think it was just too much loss at once for my daddy to handle.”

“That’s too much loss to make a child deal with on her own,” Arvin commented the same way you had earlier.

You shrugged, wavering your head from side to side. Like he’d said, you would be lying if you said you hadn’t had the same thought. “Looks like we got a lot in common.” You chuckled sadly, “I feel like I lost everyone who ever loved me. My mom, my sister, my grandparents, my dad...” Another silence settled and you waved the thought away, pushing yourself to sit up, “‘M sorry. I didn’t mean to make this all sad.”

Arvin shook his head, “You ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry for.” He paused, hesitant to continue. He hadn’t talked to anybody about what happened back in Coal Creek and Knockemstiff but something was strongly compelling him to. Maybe it was a bad idea to continue but he did, “I had a sister once too.”

Your mouth fell slightly in surprise and you let out a heavy breath, “You did?” The use of the words had and did instead are have and do were not lost on you and you couldn’t help but wonder what had happened.

Arvin swallowed hard and nodded, “Yeah… she, uh, she got into some trouble with this no good preacher that came into town. She was just so lonely, reminds me a lot o' you, but when he saw that and he took advantage of her. Took everythin’ he wanted and when she got into trouble he just told her she was crazy.” He paused for a moment, the memories of his sister flowing through his head, “Found her hangin’ in the shed.”

You were dumbfounded by the story you’d just been told. Anger and sadness were clear in Arvin’s voice despite his attempt to hold on, though you had a feeling that just the way he had been telling you about it meant that he had shared more of himself than he ever intended to . You struggled to wrap your brain around the tragedy he had just shared. “What’s her name?” You finally asked after a few moments of silence.

Arvin looked out across the field again and then back at you, “Lenora.”

“Lenora,” you repeated, “That’s a pretty name.” Arvin only nodded wordlessly. Again, another pause before you continued, “You said it was some preacher that got her in trouble? What happened with that? I mean, you knew? Didn’t anyone else? Is he in jail or somethin’?”

The man tensed up next to you and shot a look towards you that was sharper than one he’d ever given you before. You shrank back ever so slightly, taken off guard by his response to your seemingly simple question. “‘M sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. You don’t have to-”

“Ain’t nobody woulda believed my Lenora if she told ‘em. You know how people see women who got babies ‘n no husband. Especially since he was the preacher…” he trailed off and you were desperate to see the memories that played behind his big brown eyes, “He ain’t gonna hurt nobody no more.”

Your brows knitted together, trying to decipher what that meant. Did he go to jail? Was he fired? Was his reputation ruined? You prayed whatever justice he got was fit for something so atrocious.

"I'm sorry you lost your sister."

"I'm sorry you lost yours too."

After a long silence, Arvin laid back beside you, his body grazing your arm as he lowered himself. The two of you rested beside each other in this new understanding of each other. As you struggled to keep your attention on the sky, your eyes frequently straying from the vast blue expanse overhead to the beautiful man to your right, you couldn't help but wonder if by some insane fantasy maybe he'd be struggling to keep his eyes off of you in the same way.

"Let's talk about somethin' less depressing," you prompted, "How 'bout girlfriends? You ever had one of those?"

Arvin’s chest rose and fell heavily as he sighed, "I ain't never had much time for a girlfriend. Didn't much like anybody in my hometown anyways. Don't think nobody liked me much neither."

You rolled your eyes and audibly scoffed, "I find it hard to believe you didn't have girls bangin' down your door for a date. You're tellin' me you ain't never went out on a single date?"

He shook his head, "Nope. I mean I kissed a girl or two back when I was younger but I never had no time for datin'. Always workin' or helpin' my grandma or keepin' Lenora safe."

You rolled over onto your side and looked down at him curiously, "Where you from anyways?"

Arvin was hesitant to answer, you could see it plain as day, though you couldn't figure why. Finally, he answered, "Lived with my mama and daddy in Knockemstiff but moved to Coal Creek with my grandma after they died."

Mentally, you wracked your mental map for any memory of those towns but found none. "I don't think I ever heard of those," you commented, lying back down.

Arvin stretched his arm up and readjusted his cap, "Not many people have unless you're from near there. Just some small towns you'd drive right through and never even notice. Knockemstiff is near Meade, Ohio."

"Oh!" You exclaimed in realization, "I heard of that one!" You giggled. You didn't live anywhere near there but you'd heard the name at least from a friend whose family was from Meade.

"What about you?" He asked.

You began tracing light patterns on your stomach with your finger, "What about me? You know where I'm from."

"You ever had a boyfriend?"

You kept your eyes staring straight up. “I tried datin’ a few boys back in high school but nothing too serious. They didn’t seem to like me much,” you admitted with a shrug. At the time, it had bothered you a little that you seemed to have a hard time finding a boyfriend but now you saw that it was better this way. Younger you had spent night after night praying for a knight in shining armor that would come and whisk you away to some beautiful new life. All they had done was run for the hills because they didn’t want to deal with your daddy… not that you could blame them. You’d learned not to depend on anybody for anything, certainly not some boy to make your life better. You’d have to do that yourself.

“I think it would be impossible for somebody not to like you.” Arvin said quietly but with no ounce of dishonesty.

You rolled your eyes and rolled over to look at him, “Your just sayin’ that.” Despite the fact you swore to yourself he was only joking, blood rushed to your cheeks.

Arvin’s head turned in the crook of his arm to make eye contact with you, “I like you.”

The sweetly joking smile you had on your face fell in shock. “W-what?” You stuttered less than gracefully.

“I mean it. I like you… a lot.” After your pause, his heart fell but he didn’t need you knowing that, “You ain’t gotta say it back.”

“I like you too,” you admitted quickly before Arvin could continue to doubt himself anymore but when you looked over at him, you could see that momentary flash of doubt in his eyes. You could almost hear his thoughts behind those big brown orbs: Nah, you’re just sayin’ that. So you decided to beat him to it, “I really do.”

A warm breeze couldn’t dispel the thickness that had been created in the air between you two as you both looked at each other, trying to decipher what the other was thinking and what on Earth you were supposed to do next. Neither of you were well experienced when it came to love or romance or whatnot but experience wasn’t needed to feel some higher power, call it God or the universe, pulling the two of you together.

You weren’t quite sure when you and Arvin had started to inch your lips closer to each others’ but when they finally met in a gentle experimental kiss, it was as if fireworks had gone off. Your heart swelled with an emotion that could only be described as longing. Breathing stopped as if the feather-light touch of his lips on yours had knocked the air out of your lungs and you found yourself unable to catch it.

Both you and Arvin were hesitant to pull back and neither of you did until there was no air left in your lungs. It was one of those kisses that left you less. Breathless, speechless, thoughtless. Just less. And yet somehow more. A part of you that you had denied being empty for so long felt like it was now filled by Arvin and, perhaps that was too much credit to give for simply saying he liked you and sharing a mindblowing kiss with you, but damn.

“I-I-I uh…” You tried to stammer out something that would be fitting but there were no words.

“You ain’t gotta say nothin’.” Arvin reached over and gently brushed back a strand of hair that had fallen into your face, “But I’ll be damned if I let you go without tellin’ you you’re the most beautiful woman in the world.”

You reached up and covered his large hand with your own, twisting your wrist so that your fingers would interlock with his, “Who ever said you gotta let me go?

__________________

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its-an-inxp-again · 3 years

Text

SP/so vs SO/sx

Not sure how much this can be generalized since it's only my personal experience. When I was a pre-teen my best friend used to be a so/sx 6w7, while I am 9w1 sp/so. Sp dom vs Sp blind... some stuff went down and it’s fascinating to analyze such differences to me (I feel like I'm fascinated by sp blinds in general wtf).

She was the V immature of the pair, throwing herself in any possible weird experience she could have just for the sake of it. She would always cause so much drama it was legit concerning and I always was on the sidelines, not participating and sometimes suggesting her to stop, but did she listen to me? Never, and also, in some ways, I think I did in fact understand her desire to feel alive and feel stuff and do dumb stuff, possibly in that I am sx-blind and I won't fucking allow myself to do that, while she totally did. I guess, I don't usually pay any mind to my sx-blindness but the only time that it kind of felt like I was missing on something was when I would spend time with her? And also now that I'm actually studying the instictual variants I guess I'm starting to realize it (but also not really there's a shit ton of work to do). She would always act as if she was the protagonist of some weird 19th romantic novel but, make it dumber (we were 11-12 after all, how smart could we be?).

I deeply, deeply understand her need and wish to be like a novel protagonist. I do think of myself in that way quite often. But while she did it by acting and getting actively involved in stuff, I’ve always done the same by hyper-interpreting my simpler, more boring experiences (9 basic bitch here, feeling attached to something while being withdrawn and out of touch with your body results in amazing fantasy sky castles). She was never satisfied by this.

If she wanted intensity, she would create it by idk, doing some dumb stuff she would for sure later regret. While she went on to feel so alive, I would stay in the back overthinking my more boring life. An example would be that while she actually acted so that everyone around us hated her and shunned her, I would simply feel and think I was being shunned as well, but in practice I would never do something that would elicit a strong reaction out of others. I basically fantasized about it. As you can tell her being a Social Dominant I guess she got the sx juice she wanted through social stuff (her reputation, going against the social system (social 6s often do that)).

In so many ways, if I were to simplify it, she was a mixture of Dorian Gray and Heathcliff and I was Des Esseintes. She was an edgier version of Dorian Gray, wanting to experience everything but make it dark and painful and tormented (a là Heathcliff), not once holding herself back. Des Esseintes, on the other hand, would also feel like a misfit and a tormented soul but he did so by staying inside his house and hyper-interpreting his experiences to an insane degree, until he basically starts to hallucinate. He barely goes outside of his home and when he does everything seems weird, scary, magical in its own way, and while a bit creepy that’s also part of being sx-blind I think? You secretly want that way of feeling alive via the dark things in life (not sure if my fixes have a part in this as idk other 9s may not relate to this maybe) but also you want to go about it safely (sp) and by not exposing yourself (9), so it becomes like wearing a pair of glasses that adds a layer of poetry and beauty and suffering to an otherwise normal, boring and inane reality (again, 9 fantasy shit). But that’s about it. It’s a magical pair of glasses that at times I feel like I can remove and put on at will when I’m bored and I feel like I want more out of life. Outsourcing sx if you will w/o ever acting on this shit. I relate to Des Esseintes even though he was possibly a sp 4 but whatever I guess...

My old friend, being sp-blind, of course did not feel the same need for “safety” and had nothing to hold her back, really... the 6w7 sp blind brings a lot of energy and a way to never be able to fucking stand still, so yeah... it was so fascinating to see her act that differently from me, but also empathizing with her desire to get MORE out of life and dive into the darker aspects of it. I guess that’s why I sticked with her even when I thought she was being unreasonable and annoyingly melodramatic. Most people would shun her and don’t get her ways and while I can’t say that I got her, I would at least sympathise with her wish to experience more and be dramatic, even if I couldn’t quite elaborate it at the time and I superficially thought she was being too immature (this is so funny, we were fucking 10 and we were already doing instictual stuff with me acting like the adult one idk. Also w1 may play a part in this shit. Me being sp dom felt like I was supposed to check on her but also I didn't really do it because it was fun to tag along with her dumb stuff). But while she had the courage(?) to act on such a wish, I did not - I never had it, and instead compensated by having an hyperactive mental landscape...

There was a Wilde’s quote that went like, “the artist always represents what they themselves cannot live and experience”, or whatever, and I’ve always related to it way too deeply, lmao. I would represent, think, imagine, write the stories, and instead she would actively live them. Also Wilde was a so/sx so I guess that means something

While I may be bitter, because even as a sx-blind I at times feel....... like I want to live and get involved in stuff more? also I guess 9s have a way to dissociate with their life quite easily so that doesn't help (a sx-blind 7 would probably feel like they're getting involved more). Plus possibly having a 5fix makes it worse? it kind of sucks tbfh. Like it feels I've been dissociated since I was 4 yo and never got back to actual earth wtf. 95x sp/so may be the most fucking boring thing on earth + it may bring a neurotic need to keep your little bubble untouched by real life and finding security in that bubble, to the point that you're actually missing out. Idk. I may *do* stuff to make me feel like I'm going around with people more but it doesn't really affect me that deeply so yeah... fuck all of this. It's not even the same as being stuck in your comfort zone? I guess it is but again I may at times challenge myself in some small ways and have new experiences but it's like nothing really reaches me idk.

Again, I usually prefer to go about stuff safely (aka not disrupting my little bubble too much), and in this way, I’ve always had way less regrets than her - so in this, I’m actually fine with my way of playing it safe. I like letting myself wear that pair of glasses when I feel like it and call it a day. I’ve always been content with very little...

Though honestly I’ve not been hanging out with her in years (at least 8 years, wow) and while I do hear from her I can’t say I can get to see how much she’s changed, lol

It was weird, you’d expect that with such a melodramatic friend the break up would be at least as dramatic, instead it has been quite the opposite - we simply slowly stopped reaching out to each other once we had nothing much in common anymore, and something else going on with our lives, lmao...

Also I mistyped her as a 4w3 in the past but it's so funny I got that little about the enneagram and IVs and somehow got her IV right at first try wtf I guess she's just that obvious

#enneagram #enneagram 5 #enneagram 4 #instinctual variants #so/sx #social instinct #long post #sometimes i say stuff #ennea5 #ennea4 #enneagram 6 #enneagram test #ennea9 #enneagram 9 #ennea6 #ennea 6 #ennea 9 #sp/so

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putseraphinaonthaphone · 3 years

Text

Chromatic

Classical Pianist Katsuki Bakugou has a favorite coffee shop on the short walk from his studio back to his apartment. It's small, 24 hours, and has a stage that's always free for musicians to use. And it's run by you, a would be musician who's a better baker and coffee maker-that he can't stop coming back to see.

@nanamisbento & @hanji-is-life both made a world of difference in making me feel confident enough to write this as a full drabble, so thank y'all <3 y'all are sweethearts and I love this au so muchhhh

~light angst, slow burn, black!queer!reader, musician au~

"Cross my heart hope to die, I ain't got no love to give," you plucked at the guitar strings lazily your eyes focused on nothing but the strings and trying not to cry- and if felt like your alto voice was fighting through gravel. Huskier than normal, verging on tenor like you always dreamed about, and you were too fucking sad to enjoy it.

You missed your friend, you missed talking to him. Teasing him, making him laugh. And worse, you knew the home he went back to wasn't the healthiest. You knew all too well how a house could be so much worse than the stress of school.

"Baby boy so goddamn fine, swear you give me a peace of mind," and it was true. Just being near him, talking about poetry, anything, made you feel so calm. Fuck you missed him.

"Swear you make this young girl go crazy," If some tears fell onto your fretboard at least it was late enough that no one would come in until the morning rush.

"Now how could a man like you want somebody, so incredibly immature, insecure just like me?" Because he was just as insecure as you. It's why you two would talk on the phone for hours on end, about all your fears and worries, as much as your happiness. He was the friend you could talk about the lowest lows with because neither of you were afraid or unfamiliar with rock bottom- mentally, emotionally.

You slipped the strap of your electric guitar over your head and put it back on the rack (you left it out for musicians of all kinds to play when they felt inspired by your shop's vibes) and wiped your aching eyes. You didn't see or hear Bakugou slip back out the side door he'd came in through.

He'd first started coming in April, when the Washington rain was too torrential not to seek cover. He'd walked in soaking wet and spitting curses as he shut the door behind him. Ash blond hair and garnet eyes plus a jawline you'd cut yourself on meant you were half way infatuated before he even ordered.

"Black coffee with extra raw sugar, and whatever bread you have that's not sweet." It was a rumbling bass of a voice and damnit now you were officially in love- but then you noticed a case that you guessed carried an electric keyboard by the shape at his feet and in your excitement (that distracted you from his stunningly pretty face enough you could talk to him without tripping over your words like you were sure you were going to when you first came to take his order) you grinned at him so genuinely he forgot he was pissed.

"Sure thing, but just so you know- we have a permanent open mic set up here. You can play whatever instruments of mine you'd like to use, or you could set up your keyboard. It's great to see more musicians in here." You meant it, he could see in the way you seemed to light up like fireworks just talking about it.

"..Maybe next time." He tried to say hell no I'm never coming back to this tiny ass shop, do you know the size of the stages I usually play?!

But how could he regret his grumbled words when you clutched your small notepad to your chest and asked him in a rush (with a sparkle in your big doe brown eyes that didn't match your shaved head or heavy silver rings and earrings but was adorable nonetheless) "You mean it? You'd play here?"

It wasn't the same eagerness of ochestral directors prepared to embarrass themselves for a chance for The Katsuki Bakugou, classical pianist prodigy, to play with their ensembles. It was just a person who loved music and ran a tiny well cared for shop that was full of second hand furniture and mismatch cutlery and china, that was excited at the thought of music being played at all.

"Why not? I could play some of my own compositions for once instead of another goddamn Bach piece." You must have been imagining the blush on his cheeks because it was gone in seconds, and he was glaring at you with only the slightest of smiles taking the sting out of his words. "But am I going to get that coffee before I catch a cold from the fucking rain currently soaking my fucking clothes?"

Now it was your turn to feel heat burning in your cheeks as you sheepishly saluted "Right, coffee," and ran back to your bar to start his order. You found some fresh plain yeast rolls on the top shelf of your display case and an old towel in your supply closet. And if you didn't think about how much of a dork you made of yourself in front of your hottest customer to date your hands didn't shake when you put together his coffee in the largest cup you could find.

"Least sweet bread I have, black coffee with a fuck ton of raw sugar.." You winked to (hopefully) let the blond know you were kidding, "and a towel to make sure you'll survive long enough to play for me sometime."

He snorted and snatched the towel from your hands, starting to rub it vigorously over his hair with a blatant lack of fucks for how fluffy and wild it made it hair, but it seemed to you that there was humor in his voice as he sighed, "That depends on how good your shitty coffee is."

He started coming in on the regular after that. Sometimes dressed in a suit, that he was all but ripping off until he could roll up the sleeves of his dress shirt and unbutton the collar so he could breathe. (The first time you saw the bare column of his throat and the obvious strength of his chest meeting the delicate structure of his collar bones, you had to blame lifting heavy bags of coffee beans for your breathlessness.)

Sometimes he came from the opposite direction, dressed in jeans and old tshirts when it finally started warming up. He brought in his keyboard on those days and played a range of compositions you knew were his without him having to tell you. His left hand was more comfortable in the lower octaves of his keyboard when it was his own work, and there was more grief mixed in the bombastic anger that fueled the more staccato and forte phrases that had everyone in the small shop falling quiet to listen. Because it wasn't just hammering at the keys, it was complex harmonies of thirds and major sevenths that haunted the air even as he was moving on to the next phrase that was more of a murmur of echoing themes that passed back from hand to hand.

But your favorite times to see him was during your night shifts, when the shop was mostly deserted except for your quieter night owl regulars. Then he'd play pieces that were.. lullabies. Soft melodies and less minor chords than his daylight pieces. He'd take breaks in between pieces to come talk to you at the bar, ask your opinion on his playing- the genuine way he listened to your comments and compliments making your heart melt more than his good looks could have done alone.

And some nights, especially when it rains, he's telling you about the superficial nature of the classical music world and how sometimes he wishes he'd never gone into orchestral piano and just stayed in his old tiny but cozy apartment.

"Maybe we would've met anyway, and you'd still have this place and I'd come play for scraps on the weekends." And damn the wistfulness hits him hard, you can see it in the way his eyes soften for the first time in knowing him.

"I wouldn't let you play for scraps, it's tiny but it's my place. And your music would only add to the atmosphere. You'd get full employee wages and free coffee on the house." You're wistful too, and maybe it's the rain but you'd love for this dream to be real. Even for a moment.

You were sure you'd actually walk into being head over heels in love if he did one more sweet thing for you with his signature grumble and glare. But it was weird, ever since a few weeks back he'd stopped coming by as often. Looked at you strange when you teased him like you were both used to, and played pieces with more anger and sorrow than you'd ever heard from him before.

It was turning into the longest you hadn't seen him by the end of the week, so you were fucking furious when he strolled in one night.

Obviously coming from one of his bigger performances with the coattails and tuxedo tie, but no smile to show for it. Not even smugness in his eyes from a performance well done. He looked a little like shit actually, dark circles under his eyes and something indescribably sad in his garnet gaze that sought you out as soon as he walked in. It was the only thing that stopped you from completely ignoring his order when he came to the bar.

But you couldn't stop the obvious way your jaw was clenched while you worked, the hurt in your eyes when you set his coffee down in front of him.

He said your name, low and questioning, confusion growing on his perfect stupid face and that's when you couldn't take it anymore. He looked like shit, but you felt it. Losing one friend in a year was more than enough heart break for you. Having a friend, who you were already half in love with, start ghosting you on top of that? You weren't strong enough to take the highroad.

"Don't you fucking dare look at me like you don't understand. I don't understand why you decided our friendship doesn't mean shit to you anymore. If you were going to fucking ghost me I would've preferred if you'd done so before I started waiting for you to come by." You were glad no one was in the shop but the two of you when you realized somewhere along the line of yelling at him you started crying. Kat was looking at you with his mouth open in shock, and you didn't want to wait around to drag out your embarrassment.

But you were surprised when he came after. Calling your name again, moving quickly to get around the counter to follow you.

"Wait. Wait." His hand grabbed your wrist, the first time he touched you with no pretenses or excuses. The strength and gentleness of his hold only making it harder to stop your tears.

"I didn't mean to make you cry." You almost wished he'd go back to his more brash daylight self, you can't handle how quiet and gentle he gets in the early morning hours. Your heart was too soft on him already- even in your anger, you didn't resist when he pulled you close and cupped your cheeks. The pads of his thumbs wiping away your tears.

"You were crying that night too, when you were playing. I'd never heard you sing before." His fingers were on your lips, silencing you before you could even ask what the hell he was talking about. It was too much. Being unable to escape the way his eyes watched you, the way his voice got quiet- confessional.

"Let me finish. I heard you sing, and I saw you cry, and the thought of you crying for another man made me so angry I thought I'd die from how much I hated him. Whoever he was. So I stopped coming by as often. I didn't know that would hurt you.. I didn't think you would care if you were still heartbroken over some asshole." It was starting to make sense, starting to make you hope that maybe.. maybe he felt the same way you did.

"I get heartbroken over friends you know. Just friends." Your words are slightly muffled by his fingers, but its worth it to see the hope flare to life in his eyes.

How had you both missed it? All these months of longing.

"But the way you broke my heart by just not coming by? When I didn't even know what was wrong? That's worse than anything I've ever felt before-"

Your first kiss with Katsuki was salty from your tears, but it was okay.

He wanted your tears, your lips, you to be his and only his.

#katsuki bakugou x reader #gn!reader #katsiki bakugou x gn!reader #classical pianist bakugou #missives from the concubine

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writingandmore · 3 years

Note

Hi!!! May I get a HP, Star Wars, Voltron, and Disney matchup?

𝗕𝗔𝗦𝗜𝗖𝗦 + 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘

19, Libra, Neutral Good, enneagram is 4w5, muggleborn Ravenclaw (with Gryffindor tendencies), and my patronus spirit is Hummingbird. Biromantic Pansexual Genderfluid woman using pronouns of She/Her or He/Him. Cherubic-like face, with short height (5'1") plus sized Southeast Asian woman with Spanish descent that has chic messy/wavy brunette medium hair that reaches to my shoulder, oriental skin, slightly upturned eyes, small lashes, chocolate brown irises, cute flat nose, heart shaped face, full cheeks, cupid's bow lips, a small beauty mark on the forehead, and naturally straight teeth with tiny gap in front (just imagine that it's a mixture of Marinette from 𝗠𝗶𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘂𝗹𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗟𝗮𝗱𝘆𝗯𝘂𝗴, Musa from 𝗪𝗶𝗻𝘅 𝗖𝗹𝘂𝗯, and Alexandra Trese from 𝗧𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲---cause' my friend told me that I kinda look like them). My sense of fashion is in between emo and boyish plus korean glam, I sometimes let my hair down or styled like Lara Croft reboot.

𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬

Distant, quiet, and timid at first making people thought I'm a demure, modest, and self-effacing that looks "immaculate" or "one of a kind" (due to my protective mom, a reason why I've never been in a relationship) but the truth is, dunno how to initiate a conversation, but a total opposite if I open up---friendly, ambivert, witty, laughing loudly on a daily basis---like my happiness is too shallow, super talkative, eats a lot (yeah I can finish a huge slice of cake or a meal in one sitting), awkward, daydreamer (I got embarrassed from knocking at the door even I'm inside the classroom 😂), EXTREMELY CLUMSY (mostly gets bruises from hitting, bumping my head somewhere, walking into something on my way, and being careless to my belongings), secretly likes affection, easily overwhelmed, prone to melt over wholesomeness, flusters on compliments, lightly blushes on cheesy banters, eager to share what I know (especially about Catholic Church---my past teacher joked that I'll become a saint because of it 🤣), oftenly speaks full of sarcasm with a lowkey crackhead energy citing meme references, and talented girl who can be your no.1 supporter and unashamed to be true to myself but can be awkward to strangers. In terms of leadership, I only educate and guide than being a prefect (I might take the role seriously), will lift my group when there's lacking/incompleteness. About doing projects in school, I become too extra and prepared for efforts, but I'll forget the process in the end.

The extent, I'm expressive, warm-hearted, willig to help, kind, intelligent, supportive, nice, creative, enthusiastic, laid-back, determined, tough, competitive, and feisty outside, but a real softie that can be childish and dramatic that cries so easily (but will enlightened real quick by smallest things that makes me smile) filled with doubts, frustrations, and insecurities with fear of failure that pushes off the limits to to please everyone because they might get dissappointed from expectations---I simply can't stop proving myself too much because I'm a survivor of bullying. But I still managed to be stronger than ever after I stumbled, even it's a slow burn process. I can be blunt, intimidating, harsh, and a douchebag if I receive ends or I got interrupted while doing something. Immature, headstrong, perfectionist, demanding, hesitant, jumpy, forgetful, overthinker, quick-tempered, sensitive, and anxious (no joke, my nervousness makes me think worse scenario will arrive). Though can be procrastinator and arrogant, I raised as a religious 𝖺𝗇𝖽 diplomatic youth, willing to fight what I believe (including my dreams and what's important to me) and what is right. In addition, I have a habit of staying up late and doing sign of the cross to ease nervousness.

Rowdy and feeling-brokenhearted and bitter friend in the group who fangirl a lot, swears like sailor, will call out on people that we loathe, will make fun of your stupidity (in a good way) before helping, and bring gossips, but a hopeless romantic and cheeky (makes banter with sarcasms or pick up lines as an endearment, but gets annoyed if I received sappy or offensive one), Still generous and concerned person in a subtle and different way.

𝗛𝗢𝗕𝗕𝗜𝗘𝗦

My hobbies are singing, drawing, roleplaying, listening to music, chatting/browsing on social media, conceptualizing, writing, and reading some stuffs. I'll include making corniest jokes/puns, sleeping, and dancing when nobody's around or walking like a model if I feel so bold (even I'm terrible at both xD). I also used to learn Italian language a bit.

𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦

Loves kittens, milk tea, singing at the karaoke, cartoons, iced coffee, memes, cute things, watching YouTube videos (mostly pageants, ASMR, edit audios, and mukbangs), also enjoys playing games on my sister's PSP. Sucker for arts, choir, poetry, night sky, makeup, fun/deep/dumb conversations, Christianity, documentaries (about saints, real crime stories, and inspirational people), reading interesting stuffs, talking about social issues, and creative writing, chilling both indoors and outdoors. Beside that, my music taste are like late 90s-2000s songs (mostly rock, pop, and country) sometimes Catholic songs, kpop and ppop, chocoholic, and a sweetooth as well.

𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦

Things that I hate are stereotyping, HUGE creepy crawlies (spiders, toads, snakes, and cockroaches), firecracker sounds, thunder and lightning, being left out, loneliness, heart break, blackout, and judgemental people. If I found out that someone hates or backstabbing or being rude to me, I won't hesitate to throw offensive criticisms, leaving them with a "I don't give a f" attitude. One random fact about me is, I 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 vent out EVERYTHING I despise in my entire existence---from bad soap operas to toxicity, worse scenarios in real life, and how terrible is my love life from unrequited feelings that I got, because it's a big deal for me, and I consider forcing me to do what I'm not into and manipulating me as my major pet peeves.

𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗚𝗘𝗥𝗦

In terms of triggers...I only have two which are ta𝖨king about divorce/annullment/separation because I came from a generational broken family (it sucks that some people I knew assumed that the reason why I'm overly unaware that someone is interested in me in secret, is I have "high standards" looking for a partner, but the truth is I'm strict and I have a personal preferences...I know my worth and I don't want settle for less!) and religion/beliefs discrimination, cause' there are reasonings that doesn't makes sense because some, sounds too hypocritical, like as if you're a morally good person.

𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘 + 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗟𝗔𝗡𝗚𝗨𝗔𝗚𝗘𝗦

My love languages are quality time and gift giving, but I actually swoon over physical touch (especially cuddles and cute kisses) and words of affirmation when it comes to having a partner, though I get attracted so easily, matured but can be a goofy person who's nice, friendly, kind-hearted, loving, faithful, and excels in academics is my cup of tea. Whenever I have a real life crush (which is rare), I act the same but deep inside, my heart is about to explode and will eventually share to my trustful friends how I highly admire that person, however if they spilled the beans out, I'll obviously deny it and will cry if they like someone else, it will take some time for me to move on, now I don't care for them anymore.

Best Friends to Lovers is my ideal trope because I find it very cute since you already knew each other before dating (which happened to my 2nd cousin, she married her best friend!)---perfect balance for romance, laughters, comfort, and tears when it comes to sharing your vibes, being there through thick and thin, safe with embraces, and helping each other to grow.

𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗩𝗜𝗔𝗦

My best assets are smile, eyes, personality, singing voice, artistic skills, writings, intelligence, oratorical skills and I have potential in hosting...so I can consider myself as a singer, artist, orator, speaker, and a top student who's a former active campus ministry member with three roles (choir leader, psalm singer, and reader).

May sounds different but I'm passionate for helping people through my talents and sharing my story to inspire everyone. I may look selfish, but I have a different way on how I show that I actually care also I have a biased sentimental value

Currently a college freshman, learning how to cook. I have so many interests, to the point I don't know what I'm into because of my dreams to become a popular Filipino YouTuber, a novelist, and being part of a successful chorale competing internationally...I also consider joining pageants at school too once the pandemic ends, but maybe.

HP: Remus!

- Remus is also quiet and a bit reserved when he's not in a familiar situation, so your own first impression on him would be a good one, as you'd seem similar to his own personality. He's sweet and is able to start up a conversation if he notices the other person is having a hard time doing so, so hopefully he'd be able to bring out your more extroverted and friendly self after a while so he can be around the more open you. He wouldn't mind you being a bit awkward-he's very much the same way-honestly, the comradery that would come from that would be more positive than anything else. He loves sharing knowledge and learning about new things, so your eagerness to talk about what you know would work really well also! He does a lot better when he knows someone has his back too, so your extra supportive nature would endear him to you as well.

SW: Han!

- Your nicer and more helpful personality would balance out Han's more standoffish vibes when first meeting. You might get on his nerves a bit first, but you'd quickly grown on him and, in turn, make him a bit of a better person. Your ability to be blunt and a bit harsh would serve you well if you ever needed to stand your ground on an issue that two of you have, as he can be quite stubborn.

VLD: Lance!

- Lance can be a bit immature from time to time as well, especially when it comes to trying to be funny or cheering up those around him-he's also headstrong and typically firm in what he wants to do, so your own determined personality would attract him to you a lot as well. He often puts off things he needs to do if they make him anxious too, but if you both recognize that you share that problem, helping each other might be a good solution!

Disney: Flynn!

- Flynn is quite a sarcastic and teasing person, so your own humor would match well with his. He's also quite a hopeless romantic as well, even though he's certainly not one to admit that right off the bat. He enjoys singing, and as he gets closer to someone he feels more comfortable doing so in front of them, so a partner he's been with for a long time would get to see him be more and more open with it. That also applies to activities like dancing.

#hp matchup #remus lupin #sw matchp #han solo #vld matchup #lance mcclain #disney matchup #flynn rider

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roonilwazlibimagines · 4 years

Note

Hey, I love your work! I was wondering if you could do what Sirius Black dating a Ravenclaw would include. Thanks so much!

Yes! I am a ravenclaw, and I understand all racenclaws are different so I’ll try my very best!

I have this very specific kink where I want my partner to read books to me but sometimes I feel like I’ll end up being the one who reads and this would definitely happen with Sirius who wasn’t a very good reader but wanted to support your interests

He would lay his head in your lap and you would be absentmindly playing with his hair while you read to him and he would just find your voice so soothing and he was instantly calm

Quidditch was very interesting as you both would be quite competitive about it

If you played Quidditch, Sirius would find it very hot and there would be amazing src happening after you played

If Ravenclaw won you would constantly remind him about how great you were and how amazing Ravenclaw was

And if Gryffindor won Sirius would say he wasn’t immature like you and wouldn’t shove it in your face, but when there was a short silence he would immediately bring it up

You would try to put blue on him all the time and as much as he would whine and huff and roll his eyes it actually suited him

He tried to get you to wear red as well and you hated it just as much but you loved the way his eyes lit up and as long as you didn’t wear it in public too often it was fine

You would have very deep conversations about topics which either of you deemed important and often times they turned very existential

You would stargaze all the time and share both of your interesting facts about the stars, always making an effort to find Sirius

You would always help him with his homework and he would always be in awe about how much you knew

But it was very hard to stay focused and tutoring often turned into flirting which turned into something else

Sirius would definitely be happy to do that dumb thing where if he gets it right he gets a kiss because he thought it was cute and swore it made him more focused

I feel like although he is still goofy and and dumb at times, he had a very high emotional intelligence and you were able to connect to him on a deeper level because of it

He wouldn’t be afraid to write bad poetry with you and even though you got so embarrassed reading it out he would support you and it would always turn into you two crying from laughing so hard

Helping him with all of their pranks and advanced magic

Also finding out what to do when something went wrong (which they never did) but was really helpful when it did eventually go wrong

Being really into dreams and waking each other up at ungodly hours to tell him about your dream but he wouldn’t mind because he loved trying to decode them with you

Also, back to helping him study, I think sometimes it would be really hard because I feel like stereotypically it would be really hard to understand a Ravenclaw’s notes and only they could make sense of it which would leave Sirius amazed and just in awe of how your brain works

Stereotypically there would be a lot of late late nights doing whatever (or studying) but also I can see a Ravenclaw who knows the benefits of sleep and is adamant they need x amount of sleep which Sirius would just find adorable

I feel like as organised as Ravenclaws are, there is the underlying threat of it all falling apart because underneath is a massive mess and Sirius would just help them organise it all and just be so supportive

You would definitely call him out on his shit and wouldn’t be afraid to put him in his place which he absolutely loved (not that you would ever be harsh about it, but you just knew him really well and wanted the best for him)

In saying that you would like overanalyse him and his behaviours and he would beg you to tell him what you thought and you would be in his arms telling him why you think he associates happiness with the stars

Lots and lots of tea drinking mainly because a Sirius liked the aesthetic of it

I could go on forever so if you want more let me know !!

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poutyhannie · 4 years

Photo

word count: +4k

warnings: fluff, angst, smut, college!fem reader, college!felix, romantic fantasy

** **

You gaze down at the materializing letters stretching across your palm till your elbow. It was a mixture of Korean and English. The Korean characters were few and far in between but were delicate and even while the English letters were long, messy, and leaned to the right.

I’ll need to turn in Prof Behl’s assignment when I go to class and then explain why I can’t go to the museum research trip.

Did I use all my meal swipes? Chris said he wanted to workout at 3…

These notes would often appear on your right arm, sometimes remaining like a tattoo for weeks or fading before you could even read it fully. These were the thoughts of a person whose soul matched your own. He was a college student who is majoring in English with focus on things like creative writing and poetry and you’ve gathered that ‘Chris’ was his roommate.

For as flowery his major was, the boy’s thoughts were surprisingly plain and boring. However, you were thankful for it. Your friend often had dark circles under her eyes. Her connection with her soul partner was being awake at the same time and you were sure her soul’s partner lived on the other side of the world with the opposite time zone. To be honest, you gleaned almost nothing from the notes. The boy probably didn’t know that his thoughts were being recorded on your arm, which you always kept covered with a sleeve. Neither did you know what connection he had with you. Did he feel the emotions you did? Were his dreams your memories? You’ve laid to waste these meaningless thoughts to focus on your life more, not his. There was little reason to go searching him out; if you truly were tied together by souls, fate could do the heavy lifting for you two.

Leaning back at your desk, you shake out your cramping hands. The graphic design project requires that you draw out the story board by hand rather than digitally and you never wished more to curse for it. The reason was, according to your Professor, head of the project you and your classmates are fighting to be a part of use physical copies in the preliminary section. Because you had started in traditional art, relatively it was easy to get back in the swing of things. Didn’t mean that your hand didn’t hurt like a bitch, though. You had everything riding you getting to participate in this project, you’d planned everything out with your counselor and had little attractive options if you didn’t get it, so you return to your drawing.

Your roommate swings open the door, causing you to jump and tug your sleeve on quickly. She throws her bag on her bed with no regards to the loud thump it emits. Her blonde hair rests on your paper when she leans over to look at your drawing. As always, she gushes at your talents and as always, you remind her that her microbiology major is much more impressive.

The night is a lot hotter than comfortable, especially with the tight sleeve you always relegate yourself to, even while sleeping. Ever since you caught your dad reading the thoughts on your arm when you slept, you sometimes go so far as to sleep on your stomach, with your right arm tucked under you. It was uncomfortable reading his thoughts, much less having someone else read them. Yeah, they weren’t always too juicy or detailed, but it still felt wrong to share something like this with anyone else.

“Even family?�� You remember your dad asking to your rage.

“Even family.” You hissed.

With a groan, you rise out of bed, your roommate looking up from her five inch thick textbook, illuminated by a soft, yellow dest lamp. Her watery eyes gaze up at you from behind her round glasses. “I’m going out. Can’t sleep.” You tell her.

The night breeze whispers through your hair as you sit on an empty bench in an empty courtyard near your dorms. It’s in time like these that you feel peace. When not a soul is around you and you can finally just sit with yourself. Slowly, you unwind the sleeve and are met with chaotic swirl of words. This happens when he dreams.

Worth, friends, others, internships, classes, empty, running, nothing, darkness.

Your heart pangs. He’s having nightmares again. Instinctively, you begin to wrap your arm up again, not wishing to invade him at his weakest point.

Though you don a mask of indifference towards the scrawl on your arm and effectively the boy around others, you can’t help but hurt for him. He seems swamped with so much to do and feels helpless. When you look down, the chilling sentence on your arm burns in your mind and heart.

I don’t think there’s anyone for me. All I see is black. Am I alone?

Two weeks later, they stay. No matter how many times you unwrap and rewrap your arm, those three sentences never leave. Others come and go, but from that night until now, they stay. And the guilt of not pursuing this boy is eating you alive.

You always assumed he had a connection that allowed him to know of your existence. When you realize that he doesn’t, your passivity almost seems like a sin. How lonely it must be to be alone in a world where everyone has someone. Since then, you’ve been paying close attention to the scrawl on your arm, careful to gather as much info on him as you can decipher. Right now though, in class, you can’t.

Your Professor is announcing the chosen students of the project and you can’t really think about him now.

“And the last student is Y/n.”

You heave out a sign of relief, making a note to thank you Professor. You’re sure she had a few good words to put in for you. “The students I just called will be working with other student in screenwriting. You guys need to pick five scripts you want to animate and the screenwriting students will choose their preferred artist.”

Walking into the classroom with another female peer by your side, you absentmindedly fidget with your sleeve. She walks boldly up to a male student, who’s dark blonde falls onto his freckled cheeks, sticking her hand out. “I’m Madeline,” you hear her say. His eyes snap up towards yours but he immediately looks back to Madeline as they exchange pleasantries.

Madeline is paired up with the freckled boy and you with a quiet, thoughtful boy named Seungmin. He tells you that he is friends with Felix, the freckled boy, so you combine tables and group up. Because this is a project done in your own time, you all choose to work together to bounce ideas off with each other though with how bubbly Madeline is, you wonder how much you guys will get done.

When the topic of soul partners comes up, you and Felix shift uncomfortably. Seungmin gets visions through the eyes of his partner and has seen her face, he tells you guys casually.

How wonderful it must be to know who your soul is tied to, you think bitterly, a twinge of jealousy coursing through you.

Madeline’s green eyes shine as she starts, “I don’t know who they are, but I see colors that has to be tied to them.” She’s a romantic, giddy with excitement at the prospect. It’s so easy to live with just seeing colors; it’s pretty and inconsequential, much a contrast to the invasive cryptics on your arm.

When all your eyes turn to Felix, he purses his lips softly, only able to look down at the table. “I actually don’t know what my connection is. Maybe its unconsciousness because I can never fall asleep at nights,” he jokes, attempting to push the attention off of that topic.

A glossy nail taps Madeline’s pink lips as her dark lashes flutter, “I don’t think so. Insomnia isn’t usually paired with unconsciousness connection.”

Feigning disinterest, Felix shrugs, focusing back to the sketches, “Maybe it has something to do with my color blindness, I’m not sure. Doesn’t really matter,” he mutters, his voice deep and throaty. Madeline gasps, lightly slapping Felix’s arm. He raises an eyebrow at her.

“Of course that has to be it!” She exclaims, “It’ll be a subcategory color connection, just like me! Maybe you’ll see colors when you see your partner or when some other unveiling instance occurs.”

She goes into depth about connections, her shoulders bouncing in excitement. Thankfully, this distracts them from asking you about your connection. As her movements and words quicken, the stale bitterness in your mouth consumes you. It’s immature, your distaste for anything about these connections. Just because you have a subjectively unfortunate connection definitely doesn’t mean you should shit on Madeline’s obvious interest in the subject. In fact, Felix and Seungmin seem to enjoy talking with her about it as she has extended knowledge about connections.

However, while Seungmin’s tone that he asks his with questions are amused, his interest piqued, Felix is leaned forward in his chair, his eyes barely concealing desperation. Your heart pangs for him; he’s probably so lost.

Seungmin and Madeline walk in front of you and Felix on the sidewalk, returning to the dorms. They’re in deep conversation about Seungmin’s connection and with Madeline’s knowledge and Seungmin’s intellect, they quickly and thankfully exclude you and Felix.

“I don’t wanna talk about connections,” you declare to him. A small smile spreads across Felix’s face and he nods knowingly. “What made you want to get into animation?” He asks, a pleasant and refreshing topic.

“I haven’t always been the best at art,” you admit with a shrug. “No way!” Felix exclaims, his eyebrows raised, “Your work is so cool, though.”

You laugh at the compliment, “Yeah, well it took me a while to get here and I didn’t want to throw away that work, so here I am. What about you? Why did you want to get into script writing?”

Felix’s eyes soften and he stares off past the line of buildings, into the horizon. “I feel like I can see different things with words. Does that make sense?” He pauses, gathering his thoughts, “They open up worlds and ideas that I can’t experience and it makes me feel closer to normal. It makes me feel alive.”

“Like, you can imagine how colors feel or look through words?”

He nods, looking back at you with a playful look, “That’s another reason why I like your work so much. The values are clear and I don’t feel like I’m missing out on anything by not seeing color.”

The genuine, heartfelt comment makes your heart warm and a smile spread across your face, “Yeah, I focus a lot on just greyscale because composition is the most important aspect to my art. Stuff like color theory, while important, it basically inconsequential if you can’t even tell what’s going on in the picture.”

Felix’s voice quiets as he shoots a look up at Madeline’s back, “Yeah, I didn’t want to choose Madeline’s for that reason, but she really thought that the color use in my script would work in perfect tandem with her style and I really couldn’t tell whether she’s right or not,” he shrugs, his lips pulling into a line.

“Oh, totally,” you say quickly, not wishing to have Felix question his choice, “It makes total sense and in some instances color can tell more of a story than composition and values can. It was wise to team with her.” Maybe your intentions of reassuring Felix was too obvious because his eyes crinkle deeply when he gives you a big, knowing smile.

A week into your work and the very basic shapes for the animation is finished. Working with Seungmin is wonderful as he has a clear direction and even pictures he’s taken to show you what he envisions. Concentration pinches Felix’s eyebrows together and he and Madeline converse as you watch them from the other end of the table.

An hour or two pass and you stand up to stretch, announcing that you’re gonna take a bathroom break to which they agree is a wonderful idea. Coming out of the bathroom, you wrap up your sleeve, peeking to see what the ink says this time. The three words that you’re familiar with; that have been etched into your sink for weeks don’t make your heart stop, but the ones under it.

Am I alone? She needs to add more clear composition so I can actually tell what’s going on.

Your eyes snap up to the blond haired boy. That’s exactly what Felix told you a day ago. Its him?

To your confusion, he now stares, awestruck at Madeline. There’s a sinking in your stomach but you can’t tell why. Gasping, his eyes widen as he takes her hands. “Madeline…I think,” he stumbles over his words, clearly flabbergasted. “I-I’m seeing color now, I think.”

She squeals, squeezing his hands tightly, “When? Just now? What happened?” His dark eyes look dazes and he steps back. His eyes wander from the ground her hers and he whispers, “When I saw you.” Turning your back on them, you leave quickly, not wishing to intrude on Felix’s revelation.

You resume your seat next to Seungmin, heaving a sigh. “What’s wrong?” His lips form a slight pout and his head tilts to the side. You shake your head, waving a hand, “Felix and Madeline are soul partners. He just found out.” From your peripheral, you see Seungmin smile widely. You laugh to yourself, an embarrassed blush rising on your cheeks at your previous hasty conclusion. You really are desperate for the person who matches your soul.

“That’s great,” he taps your arm with his hand, hidden by his sweater’s sleeve, “Why do you look so bummed, though?”

You purse your lips, “It just sucks to be a late bloomer. I don’t know who my partner is,” you tell him as the bitterness fills your mouth again. Seungmin nods firmly, his fingers tapping your arm again, “At least you know that you have one, though. Felix didn’t even know whether he was alone or not.”

“Yeah,” you shrug, trying to ignore the gnawing guilt of your selfishness, “it just sucks.”

“Of course but just give it time,” Seungmin advises, patting your shoulder softly.

You and Seungmin gaze blankly at Felix and Madeline as they both gush over each other. You can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy in your chest when Felix gingerly strokes her cheek.

Clapping, Seungmin returns to the story board, pointing at a slide, “I like the idea with this one, but if you’ll look here,” he pulls out a picture he took of a deep, dark green forest that just seems to dissolve into black, “I want the composition to be more dangerous. Like, the characters are being drawn into darkness and they won’t have any way to escape.” Nodding quickly, you add rough shading and lines to your preexisting work to cater to Seungmin’s request.

“Perfect,” he beams his toothy smile at you.

By the time the project is all but done, Felix and Madeline are attached at the hip or the hand or the face. You try not to watch them, jealousy foaming in your throat. Felix’s eyelashes flutter against his freckles and his lips are glossy as Madeline gently strokes his cheek, smiling softly. Such a romantic—it would make sense that her seeing colors would be paired with his past complete colorblindness. He gushes over her work and her use of color, his voice giddy with excitement at finally seeing color, finally being normal.

While your initial bitterness at their fortune has washed away into passivity, you can’t bring yourself to look at your arm like you used to. In a way, you’re foolishly upset at you partner for not giving you anymore clues that would lead you to him. It’s foolish because he doesn’t know you can read what’s on his mind.

You pick up your artist’s hand brace from your dorm bed and begin unwrapping your arm to put it on, barely sparing the black scrawl a glance.

Its not all black anymore. I can see it. I can see her.

Dread clenches your gut as your eyes travel down to the next single word.

Madeline.

There’s a buzzing white in your head as you fumble to get your shoes on, tripping out into the hallway, breaking into a sprint towards Madeline’s dorm, on the other side of the campus. Whirling confusing overcomes your mimd and you feel like you’re suffocating, the only goal is to find an answer. You don’t know when hints of this conclusion plagued your mind. Maybe it was that day, months ago at the bathroom. Maybe it was a deeper jealousy at seeing Felix kissing Madeline. It didn’t matter anymore, you frantically knocked at her door, out of breath and gasping.

Her green eyes are wide and her pink lips are swollen, she’s almost as out of breath as you are. She makes no move to hide Felix, who’s pulling on a shirt behind her shoulder. Nervousness pangs in your throat but you shove past her and shed your arm to Felix.

“Wh-what’s this, Y/n?” He asks, eyes bouncing off your arm to your face, uncomfortable with looking at something you’ve explained to him is so precious and private to you.

“Read it,” you beg, eyes flicking from his face to Madeline’s. She furrows her shapely eyebrows, gingerly taking your cold arm into her soft hands. At Madeline’s brazenness, Felix finds it in himself to look down at your arm.

Her grip is firm but you could rip away from it at any moment.

Madeline’s eyes are wild and horror fills them as she looks up at Felix. You try desperately to explain, “I-I don’t know what this means either, but that day that you first saw color, Felix, there were your exact words to me about your project on my arm.”

He laughs to deflect how uncomfortable he feels, it comes out too harsh and grates against your neck, raising heat into your face. “Y/n I know you really wanna find your partner, but this is crazy. Don’t try to suggest stuff like this. Madeline and I are partners, everything has been perfect since that day for us.”

He looks over to Madeline for reassurance, but she doesn’t meet his eyes. A soft, vulnerable look plagues her eyes as she looks up at you. Felix stutters, confused why she wouldn’t immediately agree with him. “Lix,” she inhales deeply, “for my connection, you know how I see colors? Those are actually s-supposed to go away when I meet my partner.” You realize the vulnerable look in her eyes was actually guilt.

“What?” His voice is a breath, like he’s been struck in the chest and is left gasping for air. “I was hoping that I wouldn’t have to meet them because I don’t want to loose my color—it’d be like dying for me and I’m really happy with you. Aren’t you happy with me too?” Felix’s lips hang open and his face is frowning in confusion, “So you’ve been using me when you knew I wasn’t yours?” Madeline’s eyes fill with guilty tears and she nods. As much as you can understand why she did what she did, anger and bitterness towards her, towards loosing so much time with Felix consumes you.

“Then you never deserved him,” you hiss, possessively retracting your arm into your body, hiding the words against your bosom.

You and Felix sit wordless on a bench in a park in a part of town you were unfamiliar with.

“So it was you this entire time?”

“I’m so sorry, Felix,” your voice cracks and you bite your lip to prevent it from trembling, “I really didn’t know for sure and I doubted what I knew because you just seemed so happy with her.”

He scoffs loudly, running a hand through his silver hair, “Yeah and look what that amounted to.”

Quietly, you respond, “It amounted to us realizing. That means something.”

Felix exhales slowly, turning to face you, his eyes tired and sad, “Yeah, at least we realized now—” he stops abruptly, pausing to collect himself, “God, I was so stupid, just because I started seeing color one random day because she was in front of me?” He scoffs again, slouching into the bench.

“It made sense though, you were both eager to get your partners and—”

“But to leave you alone?” His voice is raw and soft, “I left you alone when you were right there.” Slowly, as if he were a hologram or mirage you couldn’t quite reach, you extend your hand to rest your hand on his warm cheek, almost shocked that he’s there. Unintentionally, he leans into your hand, closing his eyes gently. “We can begin now. Rather a late start than never. We have the rest of our lives to get it right.”

Felix buries his face into the crook of your shoulder, pressing firm, confident kisses and hot, stinging hickies into your neck. You run your hands up the bare expanse of his back and up to his hair. Flush spreads across your cheeks as he lifts himself up to gaze down at your bare chest but you don’t cover yourself up. You have nothing to hide. “Have you ever done this before?” You whisper to him. He shakes his head softly, leaning down to trail kisses from the base of your neck through the valley between your breasts. Lower, his kisses get wetter as he gets closer to your aching hotness. As if you’re made of paper, Felix gingerly spreads your legs. The cold air hitting your core causes you to flinch, but Felix’s warm palm presses slowly against you, calming the sensation into pleasure.

“May I?”

You whine out a ‘yes’, groaning when his sinks a finger into your core. It sucks his finger in and Felix barely contains a moan at the sensation, imagining how you’d feel around him. Slowly, he begins to pump his single finger into you before adding another and scissoring deep. Curling his fingers, he brushes your sweet spot, causing you to gasp and arch your back.

Smiling to himself, he continues to work at that spot until you’re gasping and moaning incessantly. He pulls out and you whine immediately but he positions himself above you, gazing down at you with adoration even while his impossibly hard dick pokes against you. “Hurry, Lixie, please do it,” you whine and he hushes you with a kiss, slowly sliding in and caressing his tongue against yours when you gasp. Your face is scrunched up at the unfamiliar stretch but Felix can’t help but smile down at you, endeared. His eyes are dark at the sensation of him dragging against your walls. When you begin to relax around him, you start whining again and he giggles, slowly beginning to thrust up into you. There’s nothing desperate or wanton about his movements against you. He’s being gentle, letting you feel him as his drags along your walls though it takes all his self control to not increase the pace. It’s deep and rhythmic, his hips against yours. He fills you up and groans as you seem to suck him up, your juices mixing with his precum.

“Baby, you’re so warm and so—mhg—tight,” he gasps against you, “Can I go faster?”

“Yeah,” you’re breathless and rake your fingers across his back when he starts to do just that. He positions his hip in a way that has himself dragging across your sweet spot and you screaming with every thrust. He reaches down to rub your clit, stars and lights sparking across your vision as a burning coil begins wind in your gut. The groans and moans he lets out when you unintentionally clench around him paired with the way his movements quicken as he becomes desperate push you closer. “Y/n, I’m g-gonna cum,” he whispers, his eyelashes fluttering against your skin. “Me too, Lixie,” you gasp, running your hands over his body.

“I love you.” Your high crashes over you, white pleasure electrifying you through your body as you feel Felix shoot into you. The burning pleasure overcomes your senses as he collapses next to you, his hair sticking to his forehead as he pants into your neck, smiling deeply in pure bliss. Euphoric, you tug him closer, pressing a kiss to the freckle on the tip of his nose, onto both his cheeks, and finally onto his warm, glossy lips.

“I love you too, Lixie.” He is yours and you are his. That’s how it was predestined and you both have fulfilled destiny.

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gayregis · 3 years

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Hey! I love your opinions on the books :) I’m having trouble grasping some of the characterization of the book characters, so maybe you’d understand better xD. What would you say the main characters’ flaws are?

omg i love this... ok for context these “flaws” do not necessarily equate to “qualities that are bad to have, make them bad people, and need to be fixed” but rather “qualities that are their character flaws in the narrative and contribute to the story”:

main characters, like the main 4 characters:

geralt: geralt is defined by insecurity, self-doubt, and self-loathing which stems from him being abandoned by his biological mother when he was a child and becoming a witcher, which is a reviled profession and caste and makes others shun him and dislike his company. he is also affected by being a witcher because he is morally opposed to killing, but his job is to kill, so he carries a lot of inner guilt and more self-loathing from this. this cocktail of nsecurity manifests mostly in him leaving people who care about him a lot and need his presence, and also in him shunning the company of others who want and need to be with him (leaving and shunning are different in my opinion... in leaving, he’s already been with them for some time, in shunning, they are trying to join him). examples of this are things like leaving yennefer in a shard of ice, leaving ciri in the sword of destiny, and not wanting to accept dandelion, milva, regis, and cahir’s company in baptism of fire. he basically thinks that he can only bring misfortune and death to others, so by being around them, he puts them in danger... he’s self-isolating...

yennefer: yennefer is also defined by insecurity, but to her, she herself isn’t the source of peril - others are. because she suffered such horrible child abuse and really had no one to sincerely trust and form extremely close relationships with as she aged (sorcerers and sorceresses are infamous for their cattiness ... as we see with someone like sabrina, i feel like her life on thanedd island was more like a bad high school experience rather than a good one. thus, yennefer is hesitant to truly let people into her life, because she doesn’t want to be hurt. she has “a heart of ice” - of course, not really - it can be “melted,” so to speak, but she’s “frozen” it to protect herself. she as a sorceress also experiences some antagonization (and she can’t even often find comradery in her colleagues unlike geralt who can go back to his brothers at kaer morhen), so she’s kind of stuck. i would say both geralt and yennefer also suffer from a little immaturity, especially regarding their relationship, because they’ve just simply never really had a relationship like theirs before and so it’s difficult to understand how to make it work past the honeymoon stage.

dandelion: dandelion’s flaws are that he has no flaws ... or so that he’d like to think. it’s important to separate character flaws from generally looked down upon qualities when it comes to dandelion. he’s filled with qualities that are less than desirable in a person, but are comical to the reader: he’s a glutton, he’s lecherous, he’s arrogant, he’s liable to spend all of his money on beers and new clothes than paying rent (if he had... a place he rented). as geralt says in a little sacrifice, he’s a whoreson, a cynic, a lecher, and a liar. a more neutral way to summarize dandelion is that he seeks to maximize pleasure and minimize pain, he’s a hedonist. which isn’t of course necessarily a bad thing. earthly pleasures, those of food, alcohol, sex, dancing, entertainment, music, art, literature... it’s extremely human. and to avoid violence, killing, and death is only smart when you’re not skilled in those aspects. so, his love of pleasure is not really a flaw... more of just a neutral trait. his arrogance and raptness to make fun is one main character flaw, in the sense that he’s liable to go too far when he makes jokes. he gets into trouble mainly by teasing people so much until they get aggressive and want to strangle the life out of him. he gets torque to attack him and geralt in the edge of the world for precisely this reason, and he gets the foresters in four pines before a little sacrifice to attack him and geralt for this reason, too. this is classed as arrogance because he’s so self-absorbed that he doesn’t recognize the other person fantasizing about cutting his head off. he’s impulsive as well, which gets him into trouble with things like opening the amphora of the djinn. his other character flaw is flightiness, noncommitaliality, the inability to stay grounded or loyal. he develops over the course of the series in regards to this, as every main character does in regard to their character flaws. but the other way he gets into trouble is by cheating on his partners, cucking the partners of his partners, not upholding promises (not paying bills) ... he really just does what he wants and what he wants seems to change every day (asides from singing and writing poetry). this flaw gets him into trouble with mainly the women he cheats on or the men angered by him cucking them... as with vespula in eternal flame, and the duke and duchess of toussaint...

ciri: ciri has a few character flaws which develop with her over time. the first character flaw for ciri is arrogance. she immediately demonstrates this to geralt in the sword of destiny when she states that she is a princess and that she’ll have him beheaded... she believes that she deserves the very best and that no one could take her down, and this comes into play later when she joins the rats and bonhart starts on their trail. in her time with the rats, she actually does allude to her rank as a princess when she demands a jeweled brooch off of a girl, saying that they, as the wife and daughter of a baron, have no right to deny her what she wants. the second character flaw is vengeance, which i suppose is related to her arrogance. she becomes obsessed with getting vengeance for being abandoned by not only her parents, but her morals and virtues which she had ascribed so much to. when those leave her, she seeks illogical vengeance by cutting down innocents. then, she wants vengeance for mistle and the rats, as well as the way she was treated. this vengeance isn’t wrong, but it begins to consume her. by the end of the series, she learns how to control her thirst for vengeance and she gets her retribution.

hansa members because i like analyzing them too:

milva: milva suffers from insecurities related to her circumstance - from being a peasant woman. this mainly shows itself during her talk with geralt in baptism of fire, when she is torn up about being pregnant and tells geralt that even though he had thought different, it turns out that she’s no good for anything, “a typical bloody woman.” she has a lot of issues compiled from how she was raised and treated in her society which present themselves in insecurity, which she desperately tries to make up for through showing off her great skill. she feels like she has to compensate for being a woman and for not being educated, that she has to earn her place amongst the company or others, when it’s simply not the case sometimes in which she is loved just for being herself. milva is also quick to anger and impulsive, but these are not really flaws for her, they’re more neutral in relation to her character, they don’t really hurt her or others at all throughout the books...

regis: arrogance. i know i already said arrogance for dandelion and for ciri, but regis also has arrogance, and all of their types arrogance express themselves differently. dandelion suffers from arrogance in the way that he lacks self-awareness, that others might not love him as much as he thinks they do. ciri suffers from arrogance in that she feels the universe owes her. regis suffers from arrogance in that he thinks he’s always right. regis does demonstrate modesty and humility in the books, because of course he does, he’s been working on this same character flaw for 4 centuries, so i hope he’s improved on it somewhat. but he is still affected by the same character flaw which got him killed a century ago, which is that he believes he’s right and no one can take him down. in baptism of fire, tower of the swallow, and lady of the lake, he gives geralt some pretty stupid advice on various occassions, but he’s completely assured as to his own accuracy, so that he never actually intends to lead him astray, but just doesn’t think maybe he could be wrong. he advises geralt to pass through ygsith, which, if they did so, would have been incredibly dangerous. he advises geralt to go speak to the druids, who don’t help them at all and actually hurt them instead. and he dismisses ciri’s horse tracks on the sansretour pass, thinking that they’re unremarkable. in all of these times, he was wrong, but he never entertained that idea. his arrogance also demonstrates itself during conversation as he tends to speak like “a sage instructing small children” and interrupt people before they finish asking their questions, with the answers to their questions as well as the answers to their next questions. he’s always-omniscient. which he really isn’t, because he can’t possibly be. but he adopts the manner of acting like it, and that’s a flaw because it’s dangerous. his arrogance also leads him to impulsitivity and violence, especially when combined with when he is drunk. during the assault on castle stygga, he says that he thinks he could lay waste to the entire castle. he dies due to his arrogance - he could have chosen any other way of strategy to kill vilgefortz, but he chose to immediately rush him after swiping his face with his claws in flight. he should have bewared, but he thought he could kill him immediately because he was so assured of his powers.

cahir: cahir is an idealist and loyal to the point of detriment. he believed in imperialist doctrine for a great portion of his life, or rather was persuaded into at least following what imperialist doctrine wished for him to become, to please his family and the expectations set for him. he believes that he was doing the right thing, that he would bring honor to his family, even when he was sent to do something like kidnap a little girl. even though he thought the order was strange, he wanted the honor for his family, because he is loyal to them, more than anything. his idealism and loyalty also affect him once he joins the company. the fact that geralt told him to fuck off but he followed the company from a distance anyways, for miles, demonstrates his loyalty and his propensity to follow. he was guided by his ideals of setting things right with ciri. and he was guided by these ideals, unable to recognize the dangers surrounding him, right into stygga and towards bonhart’s blade.

angouleme: angouleme is a teenager. enough said... she is impulsive, violent... she gets the least screentime of all of the hansa so her true colors didn’t really get to show themselves as she didn’t get a lot of deep character development, but from my own ideas about her, i feel that she suffers from low self esteem due to the circumstances of her birth and is prone to distractions in the form of detriments. she agrees with the practices of crime and banditry because she was never told that she could ever aspire to anything better. she’s careless, she is quick with her knife, tongue, and powder, because she struggles to focus on the situation that is her entire life. she doesn’t want to face the hand that life has dealt her, so she makes the best of it by surviving and having fun when she can. i feel like her low self esteem affects her in that she doesn’t believe others can truly want to love and protect her, so that she is always looking out for herself and doesn’t accept goodwill for its face value.

#ask #anon #the witcher #geralt #yennefer #dandelion #ciri #milva #regis #cahir #angouleme

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zet-sway · 3 years

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@the-wip-project day 90:

This question is about the Heroine's Journey. Let me start by saying thank you for putting this out there because a lot of us want more women protagonists in the world.

However, I'm going to use today as a free exercise.

I've written a lot about a nameless individual who caused me a lot of pain.

Well, I met a counter to that person. Someone who pulled me out of that tragic headspace by doing nothing but being a good friend. He helped me re-learn what a healthy, close friendship with boundaries looks like. Even though we never talk about ~*~*-!feelings!-~*~ the way I did with the friend I lost, I feel a deep and powerful sense of gratitude toward this person.

I like to write the moments that feel like poetry. I'm inspired by the times in my life where I felt like I was touched by something special. Most of these moments have been during mundane, everyday things. This is one of those times. More context to follow.

Lyrics are from Soldier's Eyes by Jack Savoretti. The song is very central to this writing moment.

The below could be considered very, very mild spoilers for the game Days Gone.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It's a lazy weekend morning, and like always, I'm watching him play and listening to him talk. I can't remember what he's saying but I'm sprawled out on my couch watching my computer screen from across the room - because for whatever reason I can't stream discord to my Chromecast.

Lately I've been wondering what's been going on

It's what we always do. Sometimes in silence and sometimes deep in conversation but always together. I think this makes him happy - he wouldn't be doing it after these years if it didn't, right?

I've been here before but I don't remember when

When we met, I was slow to trust. I'd learned that men who talk to me for no reason always have an ulterior motive. And here's this guy, with a conspicuous accent I can't place, texting me on a Saturday morning like it's nothing: "I'm in discord if you wanna talk about butts."

That's our thing. There's a gaggle of us that met by happenstance online. We talk about the kind of stuff that makes middle-schoolers laugh. It's immature and perfect in it's levity. All of them are flawed and it's likely none of us will know each other forever, but we weave in and out of life's responsibilities to talk about "divide my cheeks" and other stupid shit.

Eventually I learn they do want something from me - friendship. Normal human companionship and respect.

And every time we get to where we're entering

I feel my beliefs and hopes surrendering

But sometimes - a lot of times, actually - it's just me and him. And he'll play and I'll watch. He loves video games, probably more than even I do. Maybe even more than anyone I've ever met. And today he's playing Days Gone.

We're about a week into it. The most heartwarming thing is sometimes he holds off progressing in his own time so I don't miss what comes next. And I'm glad I'm not missing this.

But I know, I'll be coming home soon

Deacon, the main character, is a man learning how to get by in a changed world. In this moment he's offering comfort in the best way he knows how to his sick friend while they drive to get him help. His companion Boozer might be his only remaining friend. They grit their way through the uncertainty on Deacon's motorcycle.

On discord, silence falls between us so we can both appreciate the moment unfolding.

"Do you know why we do this?" Deacon asks.

His companion, Boozer, dazedly responds with a simple "No."

"Because what the hell else are we gonna do?"

Yes I know, I'll be coming home soon

The music kicks in. Just like that, I'm transported.

I'm back at the farm. Back in during simpler times when my only responsibilities were showing up for work and planning my wedding. Back when I listened to Hozier while driving by green fields on quiet roads, wondering if 200k miles was enough to justify getting a new car, dreaming of where life could take me. Those days when the place I called home was so beautiful I used to whisper "goodbye" to the flowers every night because I knew one day I would leave and the longing would never stop.

Something in that acoustic melody takes me straight back there. Sprawled on my couch and capturing the lyrics in my mind to google them later.

I pass my quiet revelation to my friend, knowing he has enough context to know what I'm talking about even if he doesn't understand the feeling. And the silence stretches on until Deacon and Boozer arrive at their destination and the moment is over.

My friend doesn't wear his heart on his sleeve like I do, but I've spent enough time with him to know he's in contemplation just like I am.

Neither of us speak for a while. And that's okay. In the silence, my thoughts thank him for his kindness.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I was totally and pleasantly shocked to learn the song that soundtracked this simple moment was by Jack Savoretti. I know only one other song by this artist, and it's very special to me. It's called Home, and it makes me think of my husband.

It reminds me of when someone tried to tear us apart, and my resolve to not let that happen. It reminds me of when my parents fought me over his "priorities" and his "work ethic" and all the ways they had not yet seen his growth, his determination, his strength and patience. It reminds me of the years we spent only being able to see each other on the weekends and the home and workplace I left to start my life with him.

Help me stand, help me rise

I can't bear the changing tides

This is the road we chose to take

No regrets and no mistakes

What's striking is the parallels. "Home" and "Soldier's Eyes." The friend I lost, and the friend who loves video games. The moments I shared, with each of these people respectively, while we listened to these songs. The same moment with different music, different people, at different times. This lazy morning was like a special confirmation that I made it through, and I'm on the right track.

Here's the scene on YouTube:

youtube

#zet vs 100days #thank you for everything even if it's like GOSH i cant believe you want NICE FRIENDS lmao #Spotify #Youtube

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illimitablespaces · 3 years

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A little indulgence, if you will

Dear Reader, please forgive the lack of clarity for what follows. I apologize in advance but I must state that often, writing out my woes and complaints then deleting the post soon after is quite a relief from whatever petty or insignificant thing might be ailing me. As such, what follows is not really of any interest but perhaps from a “been there, done that” kind of view or maybe a “give it time, you will get over it” perspective.

As of late, I have not been feeling quite myself. This feeling has been slowly tingeing my days, day by day, and it has now reached a point where my very actions seem a stranger to me. I have become quick to anger, which is not new but the way I hold on to my anger, almost bursting at the seams, is very troubling. It frightens me because I have acted on this impulse a handful of times the past two years and it has been met with devastating results. I have destroyed things within my own home and have said some very hurtful words to my partner, all in a fit of rage. After, when I have calmed (more like “settled”) it is most shameful and disgusting to me to confront what I have done. Sometimes I can’t recall the things I’ve said or how I’ve broken something or hurt myself. It is these instances that remind me of how much I am terrified by my own feelings of anger, and how for many years I sought to suppress and sublimate those feelings into something else. Now I feel as though I am unhinged and many small things irritate me to the point of wanting to do regretful actions. I fight these impulses but there are times when it is overwhelming. And I suppose that is how I can sum up the majority of my days at present--overwhelming. Feelings are felt too strongly, yet nothing totally in the vicinity of joy. Very rarely now does that emotion well within me.

On the other side of the spectrum is a preponderant sadness or depression. This is the feeling that seems to be at the reigns most of the time. I do not use the metaphor lightly, as very little feels to be under my control. I emphasize this to note that I am fully aware I do have control of my feelings, yet it is these unwanted--almost “non-negotiable”--feelings which have been the source of much frustration for me. In any case, I wonder again if I should see someone about this, as my sense of self has deteriorated to the point that I do not really recognize myself in the mirror or in my actions. My daily activities seem to be played out by someone other than myself and the things which brought such pleasure and delight to me in the past are not truly a part of my life at present. This I believe is a major factor in why I am in the state that I am--the things with which I used to occupy my recreational time are no longer in my daily routine: playing piano, sauntering through the forest, composing music and poetry, tending to the garden... none of these have really been with me for about six years. My worry is that I am only now experiencing the effects of their loss, to very upsetting results. The slight wisp of sadness (or homesickness) harbored for these six years is finally being realized in an unsustainable and dangerous way.

This post shall conclude soon as I fear I have been too indiscreet about my personal goings-on but I feel compelled to relate another incident to you, Dear Reader. Last autumn, during a particularly stupid day, I had decided in a moment to take a handful of anti-anxiety pills in the hopes that I would be rid of myself and my troubles. Soon after, everything began to slow and I hardly recall the twenty-four hours or so following that very impulsive and stupid gesture: the ambulance ride to the hospital, the time in the hospital (save for a very dream-like and hazy recollection of trying to convince the staff that I was not suicidal and that I had simply confused the benzodiazepines with low-dose aspirin), as well as returning home only to wake very groggy a couple days later. None of these things can I recall. Never before have I done anything like that, so unfortunate and immature, and I don’t intend to do it again. I see myself--my true self--as someone happy, calm and collected, with the humility to accept I have flaws which need be corrected yet do not negate my more admirable characteristics. I see myself as one who is perhaps a bit naive, something of a Romantic, with a love for Creation and an ardent love for my Creator. My submission to Islam has been a blessing truly, and I do not know where I would be without the knowledge I have gained and the friends I have made in pursuit of that knowledge. These friends of which I speak have been many and varied: poets and physicians, composers and lovers of knowledge (true “philosophers”), scholars of all sorts. And all across the span of centuries and places the world over: some contemporary, some long-departed; some quite near, some very far.

The verdure of this new-found path beneath my feet becomes ever more green and I am humbled by the thought of what is yet in store for me. I realize now in writing this rather rambling post, I have brought myself back to a state of relative calm, reminding myself of what is truly important for my well-being.

I will take my leave of you, Dear Reader, and I hope wherever you might be in this world, you are well and taking good care.

--M

#whiny nonsense under the cut #my apologies #it was important for me to write this out #I think I shall delete this soon though..

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uwuowotf2waslife · 4 years

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Do you have one with crippling depression yet? Like they stop eating, stop moving, always nearing tears but bottles them up, becomes emotionally numb, not really finding the joy in life in anyway? There’s nothing physical that caused it, it’s just isolation, loneliness, or guilty memories catching up with you. I’m uh, not doing so good right now and your writing is a really good pick-me-up. Can you write it? Please? It’s fine if it’s too triggering, I can understand. Have a good day, or night.

My inbox is always open my dude, and im more than thankfull for your words

(this will be about a merc and a S/O, hmu if you meant about team dynamics)

You are poetry,

stay safe & hydratated

tw: depression

Scout: (っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ not the most emotional mature of the mercs; even himself admits that he is pretty immature even for his age (early 20s), but this doesn’t means he doesn’t have empathy or that he doesn’t care about his S/O. He sees you suffering and he is big time worried. He tries to motivate you, drag you out of your bed and do something fun or at least go and buy some food. He will get annoying but he can’t just sit there and watch you rot. He is a hands-on guy, he might not understand why you are acting up like this, but at the same time he doesnt know how he can approach you. He will try to hug you tighter and bring you food and water, his shoulders can be a pillow for you to cry all day and night long and his hands are there to wipe off the tears from your face. He hates seeing his bby sad and would give half his Tom Jones memorabilia for you to wake up one day and be your old, happier self ♥

Soldier: (っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ although his social skills are in scarcity, he isnt a traitor. He sees his S/O down ( mentally) and it pains him to an unimaginable extent to see you so unmotivated . He doesn't understand why are you sad, what has happened? Did that crazy Kraut touched you? who he needs to snap the neck? He hates seeing you like this. Will be stubborn, just because he doesnt understand something it doesnt mean he can't find a way around. In the end, he will push you enough to actually break down and explain everything that has happened. For the first time in years hes just silent, he broke the dam and he is beyond ashamed of making you break down like this. He doesn't what to do so for now he will hold you as tight as he can and promise in America and whatever is holy and pure in him that he will help you untill you are again okay. ♥

Pyro: (っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ they know that you are sadder than before and they can see you points of view. They themselves know that life sometimes just sucks and that its okay not to want to eat or leave your bed. But they are also afraid that whatever is plaguing you it will become worse and worse and they really don’t want to see you hurting yourself like they once did. They try helping you do simple things, drink a glass of water, play a bit with their stuffed animals, theyll help you brush your hair or wash your face. They know they baby you, but they think you need a bit more of some more smootches or cuddles. If they see you worsening or being even less active they will drag you their pillowfort and just try to keep you as close them while chanting sweet nothings and sad mumbles, please don’t loose yourself like they did. ♥

Engie: (っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ he might be a cruel, cold man when hes on the field, but in reallity he is the cinnamon roll meme( he is a cinnamon roll and he might kill you tho but he is mostly a cinammon roll). He knows also that work and his projects take a really big amount of his time so he already feels very guilty. I doubt he has any humanitarian doctorates, but he has an above average understanding of human psychology; whats the point of trying to emulate life when you cant understand it?He knows he can't address it straightforward, but he needs to get you over this slump before you do something really stupid. Que him cleaning up his workshop and carrying you there bridal style. He has a small nest of pillows and blankets and right next to it his trusted guitar.You have the whole night and the day after to spend it together and get in the bottom of the barrel. Itll be hectic but he is a very patient man and loves ya to bits ♥

Demo: (っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ lowkey one of the mercs with the most expierence with depression/ depressive episodes. For once in his life he doesnt drink and tries to find the rute of the problem, if there is of course or its just pent up anger and frustation with things that have happened in your life now or in the present. In simple, you will talk. For hours if needed. He wont drink a sip becausehe doesnt want to forget even the stupidest detail from your venting. In the end, he will offer you to drink but he will drag you out of the base/ house and make you sit in the front porch/ garden while he has set up some “ festive” fireworks ( just some small ones that erupt and turn into hearts) . He isnt the ideal psychological perfection, but if you chosed the scottish cyclops for your mate, then he shall go to the man and back just to see you smile one more time. ♥

Heavy: ˜”*°•.˜”*°• he has seen depression and has experienced it himself. It was way too traumatic for a young man to have to support a family without a father figure around. I highly headcanon him to have deppresion hence the sandwich, hes bingining while staying in the battlefield. He doesnt care about the language barrier, in order for the both of you to be as close as you are know, it means you understand eachother to a satysfying extent. He will cook you a very hearty meal and bring it to your bed with a tray and sweet tea. You can eat in silence with him simply staying by your side and rub your back, words can’t potray how he feels right now. Once you finished hell put the dishes outside and simply cuddle you ( being the least cuddly of the mercs, it means a lot). You can nap, cry, trace patterns on his sculp anything really. All his life the main cause of depression was the anarchy surrounding his life, he needs you to feel protected. He doesn’tcare how much time it will take, but he will rip the mountains apart to seeyou smile out of genuine happiness, might even cry if he is the cause. •°*”˜.•°*”˜

Medic: (っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ the most medically, again qualified from the group. so he has at least that covered. He isn’t stupid, you show clear signs of cronic clinical depression ( also known as manic depression) and although it has been a long while before finding a patient to lobotomize, hed be damned if he ever butchered you up like that. He is a healer, even if enjoys his enemies to hurt a little more than they should, and a healer is here to help both the body and the mind. Will persuade you into getting under medication, even if he knows theyll have little to no effecthe just hopes the placebo effect will motivate you. He tries to mix your routine with his, ex. he wakes up really early when you finnaly after hours of insomnia fell asleep, hell tuck you in and kiss your forehead. Throughout the day hell send Scout or Heavy to bring you food or water or your medications. Pyro will be by your doorstep or you side, to keep you company during the day. At night he will carry you to the medbay and do all the talking for you if you dont feel like talking, he will listen to all of your venting. Lowkey will sit you on his lap so he can rub your back and let you cry/ just sit there, to feel his heardbeat on your face and relax. ♥

Sniper: (っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘯, 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘵. 𝘉𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘈𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘶𝘭𝘵 , 𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥, 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 , 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥. 𝘏𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴𝘯𝘵 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦. 𝘖𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘈𝘥𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘳, 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘣𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘤 ( 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘬𝘪𝘥𝘴), 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘚/𝘖 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦. 𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵( 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘱𝘪𝘴𝘴 , 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 0/10 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥) 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘶𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰 𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘬. 𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘳, 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘶𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦. 𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘭𝘧 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦, 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘯𝘰𝘸. ♥

Spy: (っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ actually he isn’t that mentally mature as much as he strives to be. He has very unhealthy copying mechanisms, he fucks and smokes his torments away, but he also knows different people have different copying mechanism and he cant judge how people seek comfort. He doesnt know how to help yo, he really does but he doesnt know. He is nervous but he will probably suggest you two take a vacation away, together. He has planned it all fancy and nice, and pretty much has scanned the whole place/ area/resort you are staying and having “ friends” around. He doesnt care if you just stay all day in the resorts pool and just chill around drinking pina coladas. In the middle of your vacations, he will take you to a more secluded area and will open up about his issues , not about your relationship but about him as a person. He has many issues and he is a very difficult person to be around, so you haveto know he will never judge you. But he also doesnt know how to help you. This will make you hug him and you two can finnaly have a good, well-earned cry. Kiss him on the nose or on his head and tell him how much all this means to you and he will cry you a river and hold you till the dayhe dies, how can someone so late in his life means so, just so damn much? ♥

#tf2 #tf2 x reader #tf2 imagines #mental health #comfort #tf2 headcanons

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