#must watch! link in source

[souliebird]

[[and then I met you || ch. 14]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13

Words: 3.8k

ao3 link

banner thanks to the wonderful @theradioactivespidergwen

A loud, angry voice wakes Minnie from her sleep.

It takes her a few moments to process the change, but once she does, she focuses on finding the source of the bad noise. It's coming from below her, a few floors down. She can't understand the words - Mommy says people speak lots of different languages so this must be one of them - but she knows it is Mister Chavez. He's a nice man who helps Mommy with the trash, sometimes. Minnie likes him.

She lets her ears open up more and quickly finds out why he is so grumpy - he is watching television. She recognizes the sounds as some sort of sport. Mommy says sometimes people yell at their television when watching sports because they love their team and get excited - but they aren't really angry. That makes her feel better - she doesn't like it when people are angry. It's scary.

But he is still being loud, and even though she knows he's not really mad, she doesn't want to hear him. Minnie wants to listen to good noises when she sleeps.

Her favorite noise to sleep to is her Mommy's heart and it can make all the bad noises go away and right now, she wants to be extra close so it's really loud.

So, Minnie reaches up and pulls her sleep headband down so it's around her neck and rolls out of bed.

Mommy went to sleep the same time she did, which is weird because Mommy also took a nap with her after they came back from the park. Mommy doesn't take naps - she's an Adult, but all day she's been sleepy. She doesn't understand why - they didn't do anything Big, like go somewhere special or do lots of things.

Minnie crosses the short distance between her bed and her Mommy's and quickly climbs up the bigger one. Mommy is on her back and under her covers, still asleep. The loud noises don't bother her because she can't hear them like Minnie and Daddy can. That makes Minnie happy - Mommy needs lots of sleep.

But she's hogging all the blankets and Minnie wants to get under them, too, so she shakes her shoulder, “Mommy, share the blankie.”

Nothing happens.

Minnie pouts and shakes her again, just a little harder, “Mommy, I'm cold, too.”

Mommy makes an upset noise in her throat, but she doesn't wake up or give up any of the blanket. Minnie frowns and looks back to her bed - she could get her blanket if Mommy doesn't want to share, but she likes Mommy’s blanket more. It smells like her.

Maybe she can crawl in from the bottom, near Mommy's feet.

As she considers this option, something new catches her attention.

Something smells stinky.

It doesn't smell stinky like the train or the monster her Daddy chased away a few nights ago - she doesn't know this smell, but she quickly decides she doesn't like it. It smells like wet and dirty and it's really close. It is inside the bedroom. She turns to start looking around, trying to find where it is coming from. Nothing in the room looks different and she knows things don't just get stinky. Something has to happen to make it stinky. She closes her eyes and opens her mouth a little like Daddy taught her, and breaths in through her nose. The smell is stronger behind her, so she tries to follow it, crawling closer.

She runs right into Mommy.

The bad smell is coming from her.

Minnie doesn't understand. Mommy never smells bad, ever, and she didn't smell bad before they went to sleep. Why does Mommy smell bad now?

She tries to wake her up again, shaking her shoulder hard, but Mommy just scrunches up her face. She doesn't wake up.

Minnie is starting to get scared.

“Mommy, wake up!” She tries tugging the blanket next, but it is wrapped tight. Her next idea is to start patting her face and that is when Minnie gets her next clue.

Mommy's skin is really warm, like she's been in the sun, and she's sweaty. Did Mommy go outside when Minnie was sleeping?

But that doesn't make sense, the sun isn't up. It's night time and Mommy wouldn't leave her alone during the night. Mommy never leaves her alone - she always has a babysitter.

Why would Mommy be hot and sweaty and stinky and not wake up?

She sticks her fingers in her mouth and starts to suck on them as she thinks hard - like she's trying to figure out a puzzle.

Minnie gasps when she realizes it - Mommy is sick!

Mommy has never been sick before, not that Minnie can remember, and if she's sick, she needs a doctor. Minnie knows how to be a doctor!

No longer as scared now that she knows what is wrong, Minnie slides off the bed and hurries to her toy chest. She has a whole doctor kit full of all sorts of things - it even has a doctor's coat and glasses. She takes the big bag out and sets it on the ground so she can pull out the costume and put it on. She has to push up the sleeves because they are too long, but it doesn't matter.

Now she's Doctor Minnie and can help her Mommy.

She hikes the bag up on her shoulder and brings it back to the bed. It takes her a few tries to get it up beside her Mommy - the bed is high up and the bag is heavy - but once it is, she climbs up too and starts looking through her supplies.

She pulls out the step-scope first and puts the plugs into her ears. She doesn't need it to listen to Mommy's heart, but doctor's do, so she's going to use it. She puts the end-circle on Mommy's chest and listens Hard. Her heart doesn't sound any different than normal. It is a little faster, like she's been walking around a lot, but that isn't weird. Minnie is used to that sound - so it's not why Mommy is sick. She puts her step-scope back into her bag and takes out the next tool.

She knows the little hammer is supposed to be used to hit her Mommy's knees, but they are under the covers, so she isn't sure if it will work. She tries anyway. She bonks where she thinks her knees are and absolutely nothing happens. She isn't surprised - Mommy's head smells stinky, not her legs. That is not why she is sick.

Her next toy is the therm-o-meter. She puts it against her Mommy's forehead and presses the button. The toy lights up, the screen flashing red a few times before becoming solid. She brings it closer to her face to examine. She doesn't know what the numbers mean, but she guesses it says her Mommy is sick.

She turns off that toy then starts digging in the bag again, looking at what she has to help. She finds the band-aida first, which won't help at all. That is for boo-boos and Mommy doesn't have one of those. She finds what she needs at the bottom of the bag and removes it carefully. She doesn't know what it is called but it gives shots - and shots help people not be sick. Mommy told her that - that's why she has to go get them from the doctor.

Shots go in the arm, so Minnie needs to move the blanket out of the way. Mommy wrapped herself up tight, so it is hard, but she manages to pull it enough so her shoulder is out. That is part of the arm, so it counts. She doesn't want to mess up, so Minnie takes her time picking up the shot-giver and pulling back the pusher. She places it in the middle of Mommy's arm, as low as she can get it, then pushes the pusher back down slowly. Once it's all the way down, she sets the toy aside. She remembers that shots do get a band aid, so she takes one out of the box and opens it. It's pink, to match the rest of the set, and it goes over where Minnie gave her Mommy the shot.

To make sure it works extra well, Minnie adds a kiss, then sits back to wait.

She starts sucking on her fingers again, not to help her think, but because it helps her not be scared - and she's scared her Mommy isn't going to wake up. She doesn't know how long she is supposed to wait for medicine to work - when she plays Doctor with her toys it is always right away. But Mommy isn't a toy. She sits and waits for what feels like at least thirty-two minutes before she tries shaking her Mommy again, “Wake up. Mommy, wake up, please. You gotta wake up.”

She doesn't wake up. She doesn't stop being stinky. She stays asleep and sick.

Minnie doesn't like this. She wants her Mommy to wake up and hug her and tell her it is okay. She doesn't understand why she won't wake up.

Minnie gave her a shot - that should have made her better, right?

Does she need to go to the real doctor? She can't go to the real doctor if she is asleep and Minnie doesn't know how to call the doctor to tell him to come.

Minnie sniffles, trying to hold back from crying. She has to be a big girl, she can't be a baby - being a baby won't help Mommy. She wipes at her eyes with the sleeve of her doctor's coat and tries her bestest to think.

What did Mommy say in their last Big Girl Talk?

They talked about what it means to have a Daddy now. Mommy had told her that meant he was like Mommy, but a boy, and anything that Minnie went to her for, she could also talk to Daddy about.

Maybe Daddy can help Mommy, like he helped with the Monster.

But Daddy isn't here. He doesn't live with them.

But maybe he can hear her? He has really good hearing like Minnie does.

With a new plan in mind, Minnie climbs off the bed and leaves the bedroom. The fan and a/c make lots of noise and he might not hear her over them. The living room is quiet, though, and she gets up onto the couch before looking straight up at the ceiling. Daddy was up there last time.

“Daddy?” She asks, “Daddy, are you there?”

She waits, but there is no answer. Maybe she needs to be louder? So, she tries again, speaking in her Outside Voice.

“Daddy, it's Minnie. Daddy? Can you hear me? I need you, please, thank you.”

The only response she gets is the city. It's not as loud as normal, there's not as many cars or people because it's night - people sleep at night. Maybe he is asleep and can't hear her? Or he is too far away and his hearing can't reach her.

If he is too far away to hear with his ears, she has to find another way for him to hear her. Mommy talks to him on her phone when he is far away, so she has to try that next.

Mommy keeps her phone next to her bed, so Minnie goes back into the bedroom. She's not supposed to play with the phone, but this isn't playing - this is an Emergency. She's allowed to use it for emergencies - even though she never has before. She knows how to unlock it - the numbers are her birthday - and the screen lights up. She looks from the bright phone back to her Mommy sleeping on the bed. It's rude to talk on the phone when someone is sleeping, so back out to the living room and the couch she goes.

She settles into the cushions then stares at the phone. She knows how to bring up YouTube but not how to call someone, but she can talk to the phone and tell it what to do. She's done that before and Mommy does it all the time. She just has to say the magic words.

“Hey, Siri, call Daddy, please, thank you.”

The phone lights up as it thinks, then the robot-lady in the phone says, “Uh-oh, I do not have a phone number for Daddy.”

Minnie pouts at the phone - she knows that isn't true. Mommy calls Daddy all the time. Then it occurs to her Mommy doesn't call him Daddy. She has to use his grown up name. She tries again, “Siri, please call Mister Matt, please, thank you.”

“Calling Matt Murdock,” the robot-lady says and a moment later, ringing starts coming through the phone. Minnie quickly holds it up to her ear and waits for him to answer.

He doesn't answer. It just rings and rings until another robot-lady starts talking instead, but Minnie doesn't want to talk to her, so she presses the big red button to end the call.

She doesn't know why he didn't answer. His hearing is extra good, so if he was sleeping, he should have heard it - like Minnie heard Mister Chavez. She tries to think of why he wouldn't answer and decides he must not have his phone - Mommy does that sometimes. She forgets her phone places, like she'll leave it in the bathroom.

Maybe he left his phone in the bathroom.

She makes another attempt, telling the phone again to call her Daddy but nothing changes. Only the robot-lady talks to her.

Minnie glares at the phone as she tries to figure out what to do. Mommy needs a doctor and Daddy isn't answering.

Her conclusion is she needs another Adult. She doesn't know many Adults. She knows Miss Apple, who runs Daycare, and Miss Linda, but Minnie doesn't think she is supposed to call them. Mommy never talks to them on the phone, even if they are Adults.

Daddy's friends are Adults, though, and she heard Miss Karen and Froggy tell Mommy to call if she ever needs anything, so maybe it is okay to call them? Minnie hopes so.

Froggy is Daddy’s bestest friend, so that is who she decides to call. If he doesn't answer, she will call Miss Karen. She wipes at her face again, clearing away any tears, then asks the robot-lady, “Hey Siri, call Froggy, please, thank you.”

The phone starts to ring and, to her great delight and relief, is answered after only a few moments. It sounds like he almost drops it before she can hear him breathing directly into her ear.

“‘lo?” A very tired sounding Froggy asks.

“Froggy!” She tries her best to not yell, but she is so happy he answered the phone and now she can help Mommy. Part of her wants to cry because she is happy, but she still needs to be a Big Girl.

She can hear lots of movement on the other end of the call before he answers her, “Minnie, is that you?” He sounds very Worried.

“Yes,” is her response, because it is her. She knows she is supposed to wait for more questions, but she can't help herself. She does her best to not rush out her words.“I need help, please, thank you. Mommy is sick and she won't wake up and she needs to go to the doctor.”

Froggy says a Bad Word, then, “where are you, Minnie?”

“I'm on the couch. It's rude to talk on the phone when someone is sleeping,” she explains, then adds, “Mommy is in bed.”

“Okay. Okay. Did you try to call your Daddy?” He asks. She can hear him moving around a lot more now and that makes her happy. He's going to come help her and she doesn't need to be scared. Froggy is an Adult and can take Mommy to the doctor and she can get better.

“He didn't answer. I tried two times and he's not outside. I can't hears him outside,” she tells him. Froggy knows she and Daddy can hear everything, so that is important to let him know that.

“Of course, he didn't answer,” Froggy says, then he says another Bad Word in a grumpy voice, before his voice gets Nice again, “Okay, sweetie, can you listen to me?”

“I'm listening!” She can listen really good and follow directions. She's a Big Girl.

“I'm going to call your Daddy. He has a…different phone he uses at night. I'm going to call that phone and tell him he needs to come over, okay? And I'm going to come over, too,” he explains.

“A different phone…?” She doesn't understand why he would have more than one but maybe it is an Adult thing.

“Yeah, sweetie, a different phone. But to call it, I need to not be on the phone with you. Is that okay?” Froggy asks.

“You're both gonna come?”

“We're both gonna come,” he promises, “I'll keep calling him until he answers, and we're gonna come over and take care of you and your Mommy. Okay?”

Minnie starts to suck on her finger as she thinks over what he said. She wants to stay on the phone with Froggy - she’s scared and she doesn't want to be alone while her Mommy is sick, but he needs to call her Daddy. Mommy needs Daddy more than Minnie needs Froggy. Part of being a Big Girl is being brave when things are scary and she needs to be brave for her Mommy. She drops her hand to her lap and mumbles, “Okay.”

“Okay, Minnie,” Froggy says, then he gets a nice voice again and she can tell he is smiling, “You did a really good job calling me. I'm proud of you.”

The words make her smile, too, and she tells him, “I'm being a Big Girl.”

“Yes, you are,” he agrees, “You are being such a big girl right now. Your Mommy and Daddy are going to be proud, too. Now, I'm going to hang up and call your Daddy. He might get there before me, but I'm on my way, too. If anything happens, you can call me back, and I'll answer. Understand?”

“I understand,” she says, because she does. Froggy will answer his phone if Minnie calls him. Even if it is night time and everyone else is sleeping.

“Okay, good girl. I'm hanging up now, okay?”

“Okay. Bye-bye,” she says because that is how Mommy says to end a call. She lowers the phone from her face and hits the big red button.

She decides to keep the phone with her and slides off the couch, putting it into her doctor's coat pocket.

Now that she has called an Adult to help, Minnie doesn't know what she's supposed to do, but she does know she wants something to hug to make her feel better. She goes back to the bedroom and grabs Pig and Scooby off her bed before squeezing them tightly to her. They are soft and smell like Mommy and Daddy and make things less scary. Everything will be okay if she has them.

She looks over to where Mommy is sleeping and frowns. She hasn't moved at all since Minnie went to try to call Daddy. Minnie sucks on her lip since her hands are busy holding her toys and tries to figure out what to do next, but all she can think about is how sad Mommy looks in bed.

Does Mommy know she's sick and that's why she won't wake up? Is she scared like Minnie is?

Minnie doesn't want her to be scared.

She rocks side to side for a moment as she thinks over how to make her Mommy not be scared, then slowly makes her way to the bed. She sets Pig down in the ground then, with Scooby Doo in her arms, crawls up to be next to her Mommy. With great care, she places him next to the pillow, then leans in to whisper, “Scooby, you need to watch over, Mommy, okay? I gotta go wait for Daddy and Froggy.”

She pats Scooby on his big head before slowly bending over to give her Mommy a kiss on the cheek, “Don't be scared, Mommy, Scooby knows a lot about being brave when you're scared…and he'll keep you safe, okay?”

Mommy doesn't respond.

Her doctor glasses fall off as she slides back to the floor and she knows she should pick them up, but she doesn't. Instead, she picks up Pig and goes back out to the living room. She opens up her ears again as she does - Mister Chavez is still watching his sports but the rest of the building is quiet. Everyone else is sleeping, even the doggies and kitties.

She tries to listen for Daddy and Froggy as she sits down in front of the television. She closes her eyes and remembers what Daddy said about looking for things. She has to Turn Off the sounds she doesn't want, like turning off the television. She squeezes Pig tight to her and tries really really hard.

Daddy isn't an animal, so she can turn off the doggies barking and the rats getting their dinners. There are no birdies or alleycats around to send away.

“Bye-bye,” she mumbles and closes her ears to them. Her little section of the world slowly gets quieter until she's pretty sure there are no more animals left to distract her.

Next is city noises.

There aren't many cars out on her block - just a taxi man listening to music. He's not Daddy, so she says goodbye to him, too, before he goes away. His car disappears around with him, since there is no one else in there with the taxi man.

Her head is really starting to hurt from all the loud noises she hasn't turned off yet. It's making her dizzy because it's coming from all over and it's hard to understand what it all is. Everything is starting to just become one big scream and she can't tell what is what.

“MINNIE!”

She hears her Daddy’s voice through all the other noises loud and clear and she can't be a Big Girl anymore.

She bursts into tears and begins crying loudly.

She doesn't want to be brave anymore. She's scared. She wants her Mommy to wake up and not be sick. She wants to get into bed and cuddle and watch cartoons on the StarkPad.

She wants her Mommy.

She wants her Daddy.

She turns off her ears and sobs and sobs until two strong arms wrap around her and she is crushed into her Daddy's chest. She clings to him, burying her face into his neck and lets him overwhelm her senses until she can't cry anymore.

Little Doctor Minnie passes out from sheer exhaustion, cradled in the arms of the Devil of Hell's Kitchen.

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a/n: everyone tell Doctor Minnie how proud of her you are

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tags:

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife 

 @petrovafire39 @allllium

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare 

@mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @hunnybelha @actorinfluence @capbrie @prowlingforfood @jupitervenusearthmars

@

Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets 

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt  @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium 

@two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend @xblueriddlex @loves0phelia @ninacotte @lovelyygirl8 @littlenosoul @ednaaa-04  @ astridstark13

 @lovingkryptonitehideout @moongirlgodness @soocore @bluestuesday

@starry-night-20 @rebeccapineapple @writtenbyred @cherrypie5 @capswife @silvercharacterchaos

#soulie writes #fanfiction #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #and then i met you

[rongzhi]

I fell into the Shen Yun/Fa Lun Gong trap and am so mad at myself for that. Scale me on stupidity and warn your followers, they gotta hear it.

I would not call victims of cults stupid so therefore be free of the scale!! Reasonable and intelligent people are still susceptible to falling into cults, falling for scams, MLMs, etc. If you do not know much about anything related to Falun Gong's beliefs or the stories they tell (cough make up coughcough) through Shen Yun, then it is easy to get reeled in.

It doesn't help that a lot of the English language info that pops up when you Google Falun Gong/Shen Yun is positive, to the point that even the Falun Gong Wikipedia page paints them as a mostly innocuous spiritual group persecuted by the Evil CCP. They really like to play up this angle, by the way, and sadly for many people in the west, they hear the part where they're forbidden by the CPC and think that automatically means Falun Gong is good and everything they say must be true.

Anyway.

Here are some pieces for others to look at if you're interested and haven't seen them yet:

Video sources

if you're an audio/visual person.

Personally I think the papers/articles are more informative and less annoying (The second video is a video essay whose creators I can only describe as "probably spend a lot of time on liberal Twitter" and "clearly learned everything they know about China from Reddit")

^2020 release date (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QzlMQyM8p74) ↳ Includes interviews of both Falun Gong and former Falun Gong figures. If you're like me, the condescending Englishman POV will make you roll your eyes at least once.

^2021 release date (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QzlMQyM8p74) ↳ sort of gives an overview about Falun Gong from an outsider POV, but the narrator uncritically repeats some of the persecution claims made by Falun Gong (esp. the organ harvesting claims, which are most likely not true imo), and by Amnesty International...via Falun Gong advocates. I honestly wouldn't bother to link this video as a source except it seems like one of the bigger ones that show up in a Youtube search, and they do touch on a lot of sources. Their research just seems really shallow and their commentary on the issue is rudimentary to the point of being unnecessary tbh.

Papers/Articles

ExposingTheFalunGong.org (via wayback machine), a website created by the child of former members ↳ This site includes more description of actual belief, which might better inform you on why they are/can be harmful

Stepping Into the Uncanny, Unsettling World of Shen Yun (The New Yorker, 2019)

The Obscure Newspaper Fueling the Far-Right in Europe (The New Republic, 2019) ↳ This is mostly about The Epoch Times, which is a Falun Gong funded newspaper and mouthpiece.

A Burning Faith in the Master: Interpreting the 1.23 Incident (paper hosted by JSTOR, 2018) (Google Drive link if you're out of JSTOR articles this month) ↳ The 1/23 Incident was an incident where multiple Falun Gong practitioners interpreted words by Li Hongzhi (FLG's founder) to mean they should self-immolate at Tiananmen Square

#text #answered ask #falun gong #religion #long post

[cozymoko]

Hello! can I ask for yandere Muzan from demon slayer with a human s/o thats despises him and fights him at every point. (I hope it's not too strange)

YAN. MUZAN KIBUTSUJI WITH A S/O WHO DESPISES HIM.

Note: Nope, it's all good!

LINKS: KNY Masterlist!

WARNING(S): Yandere themes, toxic/abusive relationships, Muzan's insufferable god complex

You must be a masochist, there's no other plausible motive behind your disobedience. The punishment you must undergo is far too great for it to be a mere choice. Lucky for you, Muzan is more than willing to comply with your “sick” pleasures, though he's well aware of your true intentions.

Don't mistake his infatuation for softness or compassion at that, for this man is far beyond anything of the sort. Humans had been nothing more than a vital food source for him; they were weak and so very fragile. Thus falling for one was frankly not in his best interest. Unlucky Muzan.

It's sick, the way he loves you; it's hardly anything but a living nightmare you had prayed to be awaken from. You were not obligated to love him, yet your true feelings were encouraged to stay hidden. However your loyalty had to be guaranteed. Under his “protection” you were nothing more than a pet he kept by his side, so act the part.

Fighting him? Oh dear, have you lost your mind? This won't end well for you, surely you knew that much. You may have his heart in your clutches, but that doesn't mean he's opposed to roughing you up a bit. You'll heal with due time so why not?

The demon king isn't one to take disrespect from anyone, not even you. You may be near his level, but you are in no way on it. If it were towards the Upper Moons then perhaps he'd find it fairly amusing. You're bound to have some form of malevolence towards them for watching over you in his absence. But that's even better as it leaves MUZAN no real competition (not that he had any).

That evening was much like any other. Another failed escape attempt had troubled your mind with dismay, with desperation. Your arms made a home around you much like a cocoon, in hopes of shielding you from the coldness of your desolate home - The Infinity Castle.

Where you resided was in no way, feasible for the life of a human. Dust had begun to attack the deep lacerations of your skin, leaving nothing more than a bitter pain in its wake Muzan so graciously decided that food was no longer a necessity. However, after the first day, your hunger hadn't appeared to disturb vou too much. You knew he wouldn't let you starve, he didn't have the balls to.

No matter how much you kicked, screamed, or wept; each lashing felt like hell on your body. You swore it was worse than death. For a man who claimed he loved you so effortlessly, this didn't feel like love. You wanted out; to set foot outside this endless pit taking you under. You wanted him dead.

“{Name},” Oh my, it looks like he's returned! On you go, don't hide in this corner for too long. Kno wing you, I'll bet you'll be right back in here in no time! You put this upon yourself so I suggest you take today's punishment like a champ...

And trust me, dear. It will hurt.

#—🍁 #x reader #yandere x darling #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere scenarios #muzan x reader #muzan headcanons #muzan kibutsuji x reader #yandere muzan #kny headcanons #kny imagines #yandere kimetsu no yaiba #yandere demon x reader #yandere demon slayer #demon slayer imagines #demon slayer headcanons

[afewproblems]

Season 2 Halloween AU Part Three

Part One, Part Two

Eddie waits till the end of the day to strike.

It's after four, and almost everyone has left for the day with the exception of the teachers and the janitor --who has already given Eddie the stink eye for remaining after hours for 'no reason'.

But Eddie does have a reason, a pretty decent one too.

He's waiting for King-Steve to get out of detention.

Turns out it didn't take until lunch for the whole school to hear about Harrington and Wheeler. In fact, the way Eddie heard, Steve had been ambushed not two minutes after his conversation with Nancy by Hagan and Hargrove.

Now here was where the story differed depending on who you heard it from.

Tammy Thompson told her lunch table that Steve freaked out when Hargrove started talking shit about Nancy.

Mark Holmes told Jim Cutter that Hagan got punched in the face and Hargrove was simply defending his friend from Steve.

Sarah March told Jeff in their homeroom that Steve wound up with a black eye after gym class that morning and was almost suspended for the week.

Eddie knows there must be a thread of truth linking all of these stories together. And at this point, he'd much rather hear it straight from the source.

Plus with a black eye Harrington would be needing those glasses back.

Eddie snaps the gum in his mouth and stuffs his hands in his pockets as he leans against locker 109, certain that Steve will have to stop by before he leaves.

"Munson?"

Speak of the devil.

Eddie tilts slightly in the direction of the voice and blows out a low whistle at the sight of the shiner on Steve's face.

It's already a deep purple, though it isn't as swollen as Eddie would have thought. It matches the colour of the bags under Steve's good eye and is accentuated by how strangely pale he looks today. Steve's lip is also split down the middle, blood staining his polo collar.

Huh, so it didn't happen in gym.

"Looks like someone had an interesting day," Eddie smiles as he crosses one leg over the other and taps the tip of his chuck on the linoleum, Steve winces at the harsh squeak it makes.

"Look Munson, whatever you want, just get it over with," Steve manages to say through gritted teeth, his hands have clenched into loose fists but the same tremor from the night before has returned in full force.

Eddie pushes himself off of Steve's locker and watches as the other man tenses. Eddie rolls his eyes and reaches behind himself, grabbing the shades from where they are hanging off his back pocket. Steve's gaze follows Eddie's movements and barely halts a flinch as the sunglasses are tossed into his chest.

Steve only seems to catch them with his latent jock ability but still nearly drops them in surprise.

"You left these in my van last night," Eddie shrugs at the way Steve's head tilts slightly, he looks from the glasses in his hand to Eddie and back again with a frown.

"Oh," he breathes out, and the tension drops from Steve's frame like the strings holding him up are all at once severed.

"First a taxi service, now a courier," Eddie smirks, dropping his left hand to his hip, "how ever will you make it up to me Harrington?"

Steve grimaces, rubbing a hand down his face, he winces as it brushes the deepening bruise under his eye, "I'm sure you're about to tell me".

Eddie grins, pretending to consider his options as he lifts a ringed hand to his chin to hold it thoughtfully for a beat while Steve stands before him, looking more and more frustrated with every passing second.

"Where's the fun in that?" Eddie says with a sly smile as he steps closer, nearly into Steve's space, and leans in.

"Maybe you'll owe me one," Eddie winks as he says it before dropping his voice into a wheezing Italian affectation, "perhaps one day soon I'll call upon you for a favor--"

"What?" Steve sputters out in a strangled laugh, leaning away from Eddie's sudden proximity.

From this angle Eddie can see the slightest flush creeping down Steve's neck.

"The Godfather? You know?" Eddie raises an eyebrow at the blank expression on Steve's face, "I'm gonna make him an offer he can't refuse?"

Steve's brow pinches in confusion as he shakes his head.

"I mean," Eddie huffs, moving out of Steve's space again, "you'd probably like it, you have plenty of practice rejecting offers don't ya big boy?"

It takes a second for the words to register for both of them.

Steve's eyebrows cut creases across his forehead as they rise into his hair and Eddie immediately wants to fling himself off the gymnasium roof.

Of all the stupid, stupid things--

"Is this about the weed?" Steve asks slowly with a frown wrinkling his nose, it would be cute if Eddie wasn't beside himself with relief.

Focus.

"Yup," Eddie manages to say with a straight face despite the way his heart is racing. He clears his throat and leans backwards to drape himself against the lockers again, miscalculating how far he's moved away from them after Steve showed up.

Eddie loses his footing and slams into the metal with a loud bang, sliding down onto the floor in a leather clad heap.

"Jesus Christ," Eddie hears from above him, opening his eyes to find a pair of wide hazel ones staring into his own.

"Did you hit your head?"

Eddie ignores the question and the heat that rises in his face and ears. He wants nothing more at this moment than to tell Steve to fuck off, to leave him to crawl into a hole now and finally live the rest of his days as a Hobbit.

But King-Steve is persistent.

"Come on Munson, we should go before someone comes to see what happened, I'm not getting another detention for you," Steve huffs as he holds a hand out in front of Eddie.

Eddie looks from the outstretched hand in front of him, to Steve's face. His stupid, earnest, beautiful face, and takes his hand, grunting as he rises back to his feet.

A door opens down the hall, near the admin office and both men freeze as a pair of heels begin to click and clack their way down the hall.

"Shit," Eddie hisses at the same time Steve barks out a frantic, "Go, go, go!"

They scramble to get away from the lockers and make a beeline for the side exit, a mixture of laughter and curses echoing after them.

Eddie doesn't stop running until he reaches the driver's side door of his van.

He pants out a wild laugh and shakes his head as Steve bends at the waist with his hands braced on his knees. When Steve rights himself, there's a flush of exertion and a bright smile that is only slightly marred by the black eye and split lip.

"You're a trip Harrington," Eddie breathes out before clutching his throat, "I think I swallowed my gum back there".

Steve laughs loud and bright and Eddie can't help but watch the way his head tips back, exposing the long column of his neck. He looks up again, his eyes seem to search Eddie's face briefly before he shakes his head with an expression Eddie's never seen before.

"Yeah well," Steve huffs, his good eye crinkles at the corner from his smile, "you're not what I thought you'd be like either Munson".

And Eddie just doesn't know what to do with that.

Instead, he clears his throat and kicks at a piece of gravel that careens across the empty student parking lot.

"Where's your noble steed?" Eddie asks, his head on swivel. Harrington's car was fairly iconic around here, no way it would have been missed among the sea of beat up Ford's and Gremlins.

Steve tilts his head and frowns slightly, "I left it at Tina's remember?"

And yeah, shit, that makes sense, he must have caught the bus that morning and completely missed it with detention.

"...do you need a ride?"

"Okay".

Part four up!

Tag List: @eriquin @luvinthefreaks @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @goodolefashionedloverboi @ellietheasexylibrarian @bambibiest @sadboislovebeans @howincrediblysapphicofyou @coleys-a-nerd @whycantiuseunderscore @airconditioning123 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @corrodedbisexual @starman-jpg @ilovecupcakesandtea @yoriposts @clumsiluni @pelinelin @phantomcat94 @lololol-1234 @anaibis @airconditioning123 @steveshairspray @hellfireone @sunswathe @eddielives1986

and for some peeps that I think may be interested! @strangersteddierthings @steddierthings @steddie-there @steves-strapcollection @outpastthebrakers @henderdads @stevesbipanic

#stranger things #stranger things season 2 au #steve harrington #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #steve and nancy breakup #what would have happened if eddie had been at tinas halloween party? #this fic is going places apparently #eddie is having all sorts of complicated feelings about steve here #add a little bit of misunderstandings in the van as a treat #i will never get tired of halloween party breakup aus #you can pry them from my cold dead fingers #afewproblems writes #cw marijuana #cw injury #eddie is a clumsy goblin man and i will die on that hill #well love a man that can make us laugh with his antics and so does steve

[pearwaldorf]

I have heard of Hbomberguy and the "why Sherlock sucks" but had not actually watched any of his stuff until today. The recent plagiarism video is long and extremely good:

The main bulk of the video is about James Somerton, a video essayist who I was only vaguely familiar with. I watched the Our Flag Means Death video he made and thought it felt kind of flimsy, and moved on with my life.

Turns out he's been lifting words from other published sources, many of them queer writers who were paid freelance rates or possibly nothing at all. This is a screenshot of the transcription of the video he did on queer horror (ID in alt):

I have legit never seen this level of plagiarism before. I am honestly surprised these videos sound thematically coherent at all, given the variety of sources he's cribbed them from. (There's a lot you can say about queer horror, and not all of it is going to overlap.)

The thing I don't understand is that given how much work it must have been to compile these sources, he could have done all the fucking reading himself and synthesized it in his own words. He could have just thrown up a Pastebin of links he consulted and nobody would have noticed.

One of the reasons plagiarists steal is because they have no respect for the effort put into the work or people who do said work. A (presumably cis) white man stealing the words from other queer people, many of them economically marginalized and/or of color? I'm going to say that probably figured into it.

I don't know how much he made, but it was a significant fucking amount. That's money he took from the mouths of other queer people who are probably way worse off. That's discoveries of ideas and words people have been denied because they thought they were his.

(Hbomberguy is donating proceeds from this video to as many people who Somerton ripped off as he can track down. It's absolutely not his problem, and I imagine it's going to be a bitch and a half to identify and contact all these people. It is a mitzvah, in both the colloquial and religious sense, to do this.)

And as marginalized people, we know that context (historical, global, personal) is important, sometimes essential. Removal of that information greatly hampers comprehension and understanding in ways we are already limited or denied.

It feels like a deeply personal betrayal because we like to think we (as in people who have this particular trait or share a community) are all above cynical sociopathic bullshit. But [trait/thing] people are people, and sometimes people fucking suck. I regret to say that despite knowing this in my head, my emotions do not always remember.

#plagiarism #james somerton #hbomberguy #pear text #Youtube

[stargirl-writes]

through your eyes

pairing : librarian! reader x artist! anakin skywalker

word count : 2.7k

masterlist | ao3 link

summary

you'd find every book there is in search of a world you can get lost in. you thought you weren't really special enough to pursue an adventure for yourself. when one day, you notice a certain jedi spend a lot of time in your quiet library. strange— how he'd choose to sit in solitude when he can be pursuing a more colorful life outside, even stranger, is how he shows you a portrait he drew of you.

tags : fluff, romance, comfort, maybe a bit of angst(?), but it's a happy fic i promise!

warnings : none(!)

notes : hello angels! i REALLY needed to write a lover-boy-anakin for my sanity and this came to me because of this blog and watching 'the portrait of a lady on fire' because i just love how artists love. so if you're in for a tooth-aching soft fluffy ani fic, i gotchu!

likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated!

There is nothing more magical than the worlds you escape in reading for hours.

You can become an adventurer, seeking a great legend, or a fighter, ready to give your life for a cause, or a witch, enchanting villages to heal, or something useful, like a staple gun, or in love.

It would always take you away from the realities of your world. A galactic war, you grieve at night for; because you're you. And you're only the librarian in the capital city of Coruscant.

Besides, there's the Jedi Order and the Republic to fight the war. All there's left for you is to wait, and cry silently, and try to live despite it all.

You close the book you were holding, it was the last installation of the novel you were following. Towards the end, the female lead finally achieved her life's purpose— a happy ending.

It left you feeling empty, jealous even. Because she got to live a life worth hurting for— a sweet fervor. At least her suffering is met by an ending she deserves.

With a sigh, you got up and placed the book neatly on the bookshelf. The library was quiet, like it usually is. No one seems to take interest in thousands of stories waiting to be unravelled.

Maybe, they're actually living a life worth telling a story for. And you're here, stuck, looking for anything to take you off your own reality.

You heard a chair creak from a distance. You perk your head up, trying to find the source of the sound.

A lone man sat, holding what looked like a book in his hand. He was wearing robes you could recognize were of the Jedi's. Strange, a Jedi reading, even stranger, he was holding something, a pencil or a pen, and he was writing down in his book.

As the librarian, you wanted to come up and ask him if there was anything you could help him with. Half-hoping to hear what type of books he was interested in. But his eyes were focused and intent, like he was really immersed, and you thought it best not to disturb him.

So you left him to his business. It was already late, and your energy is already depleted from finishing your book.

The following days were identical. Arranging books, cleaning shelves, helping a few readers find their books.

The Jedi you once saw that night became ever-more present. You wanted to ask what he was reading, must be something good if he's willing to sit down and go through it rather than pursue colorful adventures as a Jedi.

You were finishing the inventory one night when you curiously peeked over the Jedi. His eyes caught yours and you looked away, embarrassed to have been so shamefully staring.

But then, your curiosity overcomes your embarrassment, so you walk up the Jedi.

"I can't help but notice you come here often" You began, trying your best to conceal your excitement. You wanted to know what he was reading, you needed some place to take your mind off.

"Oh?" He looks up, closing his book.

The cover didn't have a title, and you frowned at the let down.

"Well, I've never seen a Jedi actively want to read before" You commented, earning a chuckle from him.

"May I ask what you're reading?" You blurt out.

You could feel his gaze land on you and you suddenly feel conscious of being subjected to his attention.

He shakes his head with a lighthearted smile, and tucks his book to his robes.

"No, I'm sorry, It's not a book" He answers.

Seeming to read the visible disappointment in your face, he brings the book on the table again.

"Then what is it?"

"I draw, sometimes" He answers, handing you his journal, you turn the page revealing his sketch of the architecture of the library, it was elaborate, sharp lines that capture the symmetry of the columns, darker shades where there is no light.

Your eyes land on another sketch, a mech-droid. He even has a deconstructed version beside it like he had been studying how to operate it.

You turn another page, and you recognize a woman, Madame Jocasta, the librarian for the Jedi Library.

"These are really well done." You commented. "Are you a mechanic?" You asked, finding another elaborate deconstruction of a lightsaber.

"Yeah, you can say" He answers with a smile. "But I'm a Jedi knight, I'm only drawing what interests me"

"Why come to the library then?" You asked, turning to the last few pages, and to your surprise, you saw a sketch of the night you finished a novel you were reading.

Your cheeks were painted scarlet— following the lines he used to capture your visible dismay. You look up, stuck between being flattered and feeling embarassed.

"I meant to give you that" He scratches the back of his head.

You shake your head, deciding it was an innocent act to observe and draw what he sees. "Well, you got my nose wrong" You tease.

He chuckles, as if he's relieved by your positive reaction.

You dared turn another page and find another portrait of you, you recognize that it had been the day when you were explaining the metaphor used in your favorite classical tale of a boy who's got too much in his ego, it ended up being his downfall.

The Jedi didn't fail to capture the Twilek's reaction to your rambling and you laughed at the picture.

"I think she just wasn't ready to hear the tale of a boy who got too close to the sun" You explained the reason for the Twilek's expression on the portrait.

"I don't understand why it'd be a tragedy, Icarus was smiling when he fell" The Jedi speaks, and your heart skips a beat. He knows the story, you fought the excitement to urge him to expand on his thought.

"You know the story?"

"Ah, my mother used to tell me a lot" He answers. "She told me that he knew exactly what it'd mean if he went too far"

"And you think he was happy when he fell?" You inquired, curious by his optimistic view.

"I think he finally achieved his life's purpose" His lips curl to a smile.

For a moment, you held your breath, perplexed by how he interpreted such a tragic end.

You caught him looking, and you stripped your gaze away, closing his journal and handing it back to him.

You hoped that you've not made him feel embarrassed to not want to come again. The way he gave a fresh view on your favorite tale made you want to hear what he has to say.

"Well, if you're interested in drawing, I'm always here" You invited.

His eyebrows flash. "In that case, I swear I'll never bore the way that Twilek did. You can tell me all the stories you can"

Your heart skips and you can't help but smile at the thought.

"My name's Anakin"

"[Name]"

Anakin became more apparent to your life.

With your permission, he finally was able to study you, his eyes would narrow in focus, trying to replicate what he sees and how he sees you using a pencil, and you, reading stories and tales out loud.

In the beginning, you felt squirmish. He was really intent on looking at you, seeing you. No one else has quite looked at you the way he does. and you felt like every insecurity of yours was brought up front.

It felt like undressing; you thought, if he sees too closely, and unmasks you, will there be anything underneath? You felt like you were too mundane for him to look at you the way he does.

"And towards the end, she'd settle for a quiet life. She'd have lain on the ground he'd walk on, and this was a life she could see herself in" You finished the tale.

Anakin's eyebrows furrowed, showing dislike for the ending. "That can't be her end" He states his opinion.

You put down the book, happy that he was thinking the same as you. "Why do you say?" You encouraged him to speak more.

He doesn't stop looking up and down from you to his sketch. "She was an traveller, she wanted to sail" He recalled the synopsis.

"She was in love, it made her have different priorities" You considered the point the author made.

His hand halts, and his eyes land on yours. "If he truly loved her, he would have allowed her to become a fully realized person. He'd not have asked her to extinguish her fire" He looks up, as if in thought. "If he loved her, being near her fire would have been enough"

You smiled, surprised to learn that Anakin had been such a romantic.

"Well, what do I know, I've never been in love" You shrugged.

You look up to find Anakin's expression soften. You wondered what he was thinking of in this very moment.

"It's done" He says after a while.

He shows the portrait, and immediately, you see how unkept your hair looked. Then, how he deliberately emphasizes the creases of your cheeks when you smile and how he erased a portion in your eyes to make them appear as though it twinkled with light.

"You don't like it?" He says after noting your reaction.

"No, no, it's lovely" You answered. Though, you felt like it was too pretty, too idealized. Perhaps, he was seeing you in a manner you can't, for better or for worse, you don't know.

He nods, you can see his reluctance to ask what you thought, then you mentally slapped yourself for forgetting he can sense, and he definitely got what you'd been feeling.

The following afternoons went like that. You freely speaking your mind and him carefully sketching, listening.

For the first time, you don't feel like there is a need to escape your world anymore. You wake up, filled with stories you wanted to tell Anakin. Your heart would skip every time you hear the bells of the library door ring. Or when you'd catch Anakin so deep in focus, as if he was committing you to memory, and over time, his sketches of you became more honest, he'd sketch your insecurities with charming strokes, and you don't feel as though you have to hide them around him. He looks at you and sees art. It felt like the most comforting thing.

"But that was the test, he needed to trust that she'll walk behind him, he has to decide that it would be enough" You challenged his view one time you finished reading a tale of two lovers, Orpheus and Eurydice.

He has finished drawing and put down his journal to engage with your opinions.

"Can you really blame him? The Gods were playing with his doubts" He defends.

"Right, he did walk to hell for her" You considered.

"But isn't that what makes it so tragic— they could have made it out, they were so close" You grieved, because despite knowing the ending, you still hope that somehow, they'd find a way to crawl out of hell. Enduring love like that earns an ending that is deserved.

"Orpheus was only a man. He chose to look at her, one more time. He knew if he did, he'd lose her. And he did. It's a choice not of a lover, but of a poet" He concludes, and you thaw.

You'd still find yourself mesmerized by his mind. The way he sees things, the gentleness that comes, not because of the absence of violence, he knows too much of it in the war, but because despite the abundance, he remains tender.

You don't know when you started falling in love with Anakin. You only know that he'd be the story that'll last for your lifetime.

Anakin hands you the portrait. And you smiled at the expression he chose to immortalize. One of when you're almost brought to tears narrating how Eurydice was always behind Orpheus despite him never hearing her.

"I wish I looked this pretty when I cry" You commented, tracing over the lines of his sketch of you.

You felt Anakin tuck a loose strand of hair to your ear. He was looking at you with the same focus, the same wonder, same fascination.

You've grown so used to his gaze, it felt like you were communicating something that can't be expressed into words.

"If you see yourself the way I do now, you'd never doubt my sketches" He softly speaks.

"You're beautiful"

His words latched to your heart.

Anakin is the most dream-like of all; sometimes he feels like a mere character of a novel incarnated into an etheric being.

Anakin held your face, and in the heat of the moment, you pressed your lips against his.

You thought, if anyone else can feel how he makes you feel, they'd never doubt that true love exists.

The understanding you craved for— he gave you most ardently.

Saying 'I love you' came easy. Sometimes, you feel as though saying it would not suffice for how enormously you felt for him.

Your afternoons became late nights, and early mornings. Anakin would ask you to stop smiling, so he could draw you in honesty, but how could you not? You loved the way he'd be so immersed, so lost by gazing at you.

It was a bliss you've only known with Anakin.

But you watched how slowly, he was becoming more and more tense. You're not fighting the war the way he was, being a General, wielding a weapon at the front lines.

He'd rip away pages in frustration, and though you try to soothe the tension and pressure, you're afraid that this story will end in a tragedy.

All your favorite romances leave you feeling hollow towards the sad ending. And with Anakin, you keep being haunted by the thought that any moment might be the last.

What an odd plot to be involved in; loving and being deathly terrified of losing it.

You wrapped yourself in his robes— wishing the feeling to stop plaguing you. Anakin had been asleep, and you stood by the balcony, deep in thought.

You tuck your hands in your pockets, feeling your fingers grow cold by the crisp midnight air.

A piece of paper crumples, and you unfold the portrait.

It was the night you first shared yourself with Anakin. Your mind is flooded by the memory; how he made sure you felt comfortable, how he took every moment slowly like the world outside didn't matter.

You didn't know he drew you, or that he kept it in his pockets. It was strange— to see the picture he loved most was one where you were sleeping. You tuck the paper back inside and go back to bed.

He's gone most of the days now. But you can tell he's making the effort to stay awake when he'd come to your quarters.

"—Love is not an everlasting performance in which you have to attempt to keep your lover's attention. Rather, it's the release of insecurity to trust them to choose to stay, no matter what they see" You narrated softly, thinking Anakin had fallen asleep.

You planted a kiss on his forehead.

"I don't think I've heard this story before" He speaks up after a while.

"No, you haven't" You managed a wan smile. "I wrote it"

Anakin was looking at you the way he used to before. Your heart ached, but you proceeded. "I love you with what in me is unfinished, with what in me remains changing. By you, I am forever undone."

Anakin holds you tight.

"Do you think it'll have a happy ending?" You spoke nakedly.

"Not all stories end in tragedy, my love" He reassures.

You bit your lip "We'll have to conquer the fates, it's been written so many times, a cruel ending" You can't entirely let your fears go.

"Fate gave you to me"

"If by some twist, we end in tragedy, then I am happy to have loved you" He says.

You let out an exhale. There was the simple truth of it; that all things must go, even Anakin. And like him, you felt as though you were blessed to even share a portion of your life with him. Loving is never a waste, even just for the brief time you're allowed in one lifetime. You decided it would be enough for you.

In his arms, it felt like you're unravelling a story that may have a happy ending after all.

#anakin skywalker #anakin (ciella's ver) #star wars #sw #anakin x reader #anakin x you #star wars anakin #anakin #anakin fanfiction #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker fic #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin fluff #anakin skywalker fluff #sw anakin #anakin star wars #anakin imagine #anakin x y/n #Spotify

[elicathebunny]

THE POWER OF WORDS AND THOUGHTS.

(I have searched for information online and gathered it into one place, I have linked the og sources.)

Negative or Positive can be injected into the mind if repeated enough times.

No matter what you say, positive or negative. Whatever is repeated enough times will become part of your belief system because you begin to believe it. Once you think, you begin to believe, and once you believe, you begin to act according to those beliefs.

words -> thoughts -> beliefs -> actions

e.g. negative talk -> low self esteem -> neglect self positive talk -> good self image -> nurturing self The way we think about something greatly impacts our emotions and actions.

We can literally do whatever we want at this moment. If I wanted to exercise I could, If I wanted to lose weight I could, If I wanted to start a business I could. But It's the learned beliefs and the restrictions around us that prevent us from doing so: Procrastination, Distractions, Trauma, Fear, Impatience, etc.

To hack the mind, we must first understand it.

The three levels of awareness:

Conscious mind: This contains all of the thoughts, memories, feelings, and wishes of which we are aware at any given moment. This is the aspect of our mental processing that we can think and talk about rationally. This also includes our memory, which is not always part of consciousness but can be retrieved easily and brought into awareness.

Preconscious: This consists of anything that could potentially be brought into the conscious mind.

Unconscious (or subconscious) mind:  This is a reservoir of feelings, thoughts, urges, and memories that are outside of our conscious awareness. Most of the contents of the unconscious are unacceptable or unpleasant, such as feelings of pain, anxiety, or conflict.’

Understanding the Brain:

The conscious mind is creative, it creates all your personal desires, wishes, what you want to do with your life and more. Your conscious mind can learn easily from seeing people doing things, watching a movie, reading a book, cooking or walking.

The conscious level consists of all those things we are aware of, including things that we know about ourselves and our surroundings. The preconscious consists of those things we could pay conscious attention to if we so desired, and where many memories are stored for easy retrieval.

The subconscious mind goes beyond learning new skills. It's involved in information processing and affects everything we think, say and do. It stores our beliefs and values, determines our memories and monitors the information all around us, deciding what to send to the conscious mind and what to store for later.

When you receive a stimulus and there is a habit in the subconscious mind related to that stimulus, it will automatically engage in its related behaviour. That’s what a habit is, all it takes is a stimulus and the behavior will play itself out.

-> The conscious mind changes easily, whereas the subconscious mind is more stubborn:

Thoughts come and go in your conscious mind. It constantly changes. Your subconscious mind takes a little bit more than that to be convinced about the change you’ve been proposing lately. No, it won’t change until you keep repeating it forever.

-> Your subconscious mind is designed to keep the learned program. -> Want to change your subconscious responses? Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

How to deal with negative self-talk:

ANTs: (ANT stands for automatic negative thought) Some examples of ANTs in your life might be “that person hates me” “I have nothing going for me” or “I’m never going to be happy.” ANTs tend to just pop into our heads without any warning. 

First, identify the ANT that you’re dealing with. Right now, just think of any automatic negative thought that regularly comes to mind. It can help to write your ANT down on paper, especially if you’re a visual learner. 

Some examples of ANT species are listed below:

All-or-nothing ANTs: Thinking in extremes, that things are either all good or all bad

Less-than ANTs: Comparing yourself and your situation to others and seeing yourself as less than

Just-the-bad ANTs: Seeing only the bad in a situation

Guilt-beating ANTs: Thinking in words like should, must, ought or have to

Labeling ANTs: Attaching a negative label to yourself or someone else

Fortune-telling ANTs: Predicting the worst possible outcome for a situation with little or no evidence for it

Mind-reading ANTs: Believing you know what other people are thinking even though they haven’t told you

If-only-and- I’ll-be-happy-when ANTs: Arguing with the past and longing for the future

Blaming ANTs: Blaming others for your problems

Identifying and becoming aware of these repeating patterns is the first step in breaking them. Become aware of how your thoughts are impacting your emotions and behaviours. Observe your thoughts. Ask yourself if this thought is helpful? What purpose is the thought serving you? How does the thought make you feel?

Although it is difficult to think with this new style at first, over time and with practice, positive and rational thoughts will come more naturally. Cognitive restructuring can help you challenge your thoughts by taking you through steps including:

Ask yourself if the thought is realistic.

Think of what happened in the past in similar situations and evaluate if your thoughts are on course with what took place.

Actively challenge the thought and look for alternative explanations.

Think of what you'd gain versus what you'd lose by continuing to believe the thought.

Recognize if your thought is actually a result of cognitive distortion, such as catastrophising.

Consider what you'd tell a friend who may have the same thought.

GET OUT OF YOUR OWN WAY.

It’s called “the human condition” – how we, as humans, are born with minds that are stuck in a loop of 95% repetitive thoughts, 5% conscious thoughts, and 80% negative thoughts. That’s a lot of thought and if you are not aware of it and how to use it, your life will stay “stuck” – stuck in a pattern created by your mind – from the actions you take everyday, to the thoughts that keep repeating in your mind, and ending up as the actions now affecting your life. The first step is to recognize that you HAVE a mind. And with that in mind, you have a choice.

The reality is, if you aren't achieving the results you want now or you feel like they could be better, chances are you have not actually consciously recognized you have a mind and made the decision to take charge of it.

Once you understand that you have a mind and you make a DECISION that solidifies your commitment to following that truth of what you want, you're halfway there! This decision and commitment means that you are committed to doing the work and achieving the goal - regardless of the outside influences and distractions that are constantly being thrown at you. The pattern of your mind creates a pattern in your behaviour – and affects the results in your life.

The reality is, that creating success is NOT just about “doing what you love". Part of reprogramming your subconscious mind and getting it to work towards your success is to automate the things you don’t like and change the things that are detracting from your success.

When you automate the things that don’t make you feel that successful feeling, you are subconsciously programming your mind – your 95% of unconscious thought- to take over the heavy lifting. You’re programming it to do the things you need to do to create your success.

Affirming and Repetition:

Know what you want, when you want it and how your going to get it. Write that down and literally strive for it. Put down your goal on a card read it as often as you possibly can, and curate goals which are based on it. No matter what negative thought pops up, keep denying it and reaffirming a positive alternative. Play music that will uplift you, surround yourself with people that you see yourself in and who share similar goals/mindset as you to keep reaffirming your reality, and remove any restrictions that deny the reality you are trying to make for yourself. Make a conscious effort to keep reaffirming your desires until you believe them. But remember you can't just sit and affirm without putting in the work, you can't affirm something that you don't believe. Therefore affirmation and work must go in hand.

#self improvement #self worth #that girl #dream girl #self growth #affirmations #affirm #beliefs

[broomsick]

any tips for starting out when working with deities?

Hi, friend! Thank you for the ask, and sorry for the late reply. I've posted tips for beginners many times in the past, most of which you can find via links in this post. But now, since we're talking about working with deities more specifically, I'll list a few quick tips in a point form!

The golden rule to deity work, in my opinion, is respect. Everyone interacts with their deities with varying amounts of familiarity, but one quality always remains no matter the worshipper, and that is respect. But that goes without saying, right? 'Treat others how you want to be treated' makes no exceptions, even with non-human entities.

To me, the first step to respecting a deity is acknowledging their depth and multi-faceted nature. Mythological sources may describe this or that deity as the 'God of this or that', but in the context of religion, they are much more. The believer views the God as more than a mythological figure, but as a complex existing being.

For this reason, another tip I'll give is to get to know them. Learn as much as you can about them, and never stop learning. Not only about the deity/deities themselves, but also (and I think it's crucial not to neglect this!) about the cultural context in which they were first worshipped. I can't stress enough how big of a difference this makes when it comes to understanding a God. If you're interested, I've linked here a few of my favorite sources pertaining to nordic cultures, religions and history!

To me, offerings are not transactional. That is just my own belief, of course, but I don't adhere to the idea that 'one must give to the Gods in order to earn blessings and vice versa'. Paganism is not a trade market, but rather a way to experience spirituality. I believe in making offerings when you can, if you can, as a gesture of gratitude and not as a way to somehow 'earn blessings'. As a pagan, you do not "owe" anything to the Gods they do not "owe" you anything either.

Do not be afraid to simply spend time with them. While we may not always feel their presence, you can have faith in the fact that they watch over you. And for this reason, it's perfectly okay for you to sit down at your altar, or in the outdoors, to simply talk to them, symbolically sharing a drink/meal, telling them of your troubles or of how they inspire you. Developing this habit can help make you feel connected to a deity, even on a tight schedule, or during times when you feel disconnected from your spirituality.

In the same vein, it can be fulfilling and fun for you to dedicate certain activities to a deity of your choice! For example, practicing your instrument in honor of Bragi, or hiking in honor of Jörð, etc... What's more, whenever you dedicate an activity to a deity, you can invite them to partake in it, as I've described in this previous post!

Start to notice what things in your life reminds you of them. Maybe a certain smell? Or a song? What animals, meals, stories of else bring this deity to mind? Either because of the similar feeling they instill in you, or because you think this or that deity might enjoy them.

As a beginner, you needn't feel bad about how many deities you work with, or which deities you reach out to (so long as they are not part of a closed practice). I've always thought it weird how in some books centered around witchcraft, they'll rank deities in order of 'how experienced you need to be to reach out to them'. If you want my own honest opinion, anyone is free to reach out to any deity. No God is more difficult to work with than others. It all comes down to the individual, their values and the way they choose to work with the deity in question. I'm also not a big fan of such sources encouraging calling out to a deity during a ritual/spell like they're a tool for a magical working, if the practionner doesn't plan to really get to know them. But that's a topic for another day.

It can be greatly fulfilling as well to simply ponder a deity from time to time. What do they teach you? What can you learn from their example? What do they represent in your life? I listed in this post a few ideas of questions to ask yourself in order to better understand a deity and their presence in your life.

Take it step by step, day by day, and don't feel bad if you think you've made a mistake. We are all constantly learning. The Gods know we are human, and they reflect us in that way: they themselves have their strengths and weaknesses.

I hope this helps, but please do keep in mind that these are all my personal views on paganism, and that not every practionner will resonate with them. In any case, don't hesitate to ask if you have any other question(s) regarding practice or belief in the nordic path. Have a good day, my friend.

#personal #ask #asks #norse paganism #heathenry #spirituality #norse gods #paganism #polytheism #deity work #deities #norse polytheism

[prince-kallisto]

Crowley: A False Prophet and the Unholy Trinity

HEAR ME OUT, HEAR ME OUT. @overly-niche-twst makes amazing and funny memes, but as you all should know, even the memes aren’t immune from my theories. But the connection of Crowley and the “false prophet” hit me like a train. A false prophet? In a game where the religious symbolism runs rampant? And when digging into research, I was SHOOK at what I learned. I swear this is the worst rabbit hole I’ve ever gone through because of a MEME 😭

In Biblical lore, a prophet is someone who receives a divine message from a supernatural source and must share the message with the rest of humanity. This message is often referred to as a “prophecy.”

I’ve talked about Levan potentially having prophetic powers on here several times, but as a little recap, Lilia seems to hint at Levan’s uncanny foresight. Either he’s just an incredible master strategist, or Levan has powerful magic (perhaps Unique Magic, or just really good at astrology) related to seeing the future. For example, he SOMEHOW knew that Lilia and Malleus would attend NRC 500 years in the future, and taught Lilia and the other Fae a common language with humans in hopes of reuniting the Fae and humans in the future, like at NRC.

What makes me feel certain about this theory is that ravens in Greek mythology were related to Prophecy, because they were believed to be the bird of Apollo, the Greek god of prophecy. And Levan seems to be twisted from Diavolo, Maleficent’s Raven (unconfirmed but seems likely with info so far)

Technically, if the gift of prophecy was Levan’s UNIQUE Magic, it could count as a “supernatural” source, right? And if he taught and guiding the Fae with the information he saw from the future, Levan could technically be considered a prophet.

But what is a false prophet, and why do I believe Crowley is one?

(Disclaimer, I am not religious myself and am using Biblical texts from a purely analytical perspective. If you know better on this topic, want to add something/correct me, please let me know! Sorry for putting so many links here too haha, there’s just too much to talk about in one post!)

A false prophet is someone who falsely claims the gift of prophecy, or is speaking from the supernatural source of evil, typically the Devil. According to Biblical lore, the false prophet will present themselves as benevolent (Crowley “I am so kind” is that you) and weak, but have great power and evil. What I found very interesting was this line from the Bible:

“Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep's clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves.”

I’ve made theories regarding Crowley’s true nature many, many times before. My moots tease me for using this Rook screenshot so many times, but I genuinely believe Rook understands Crowley’s character.

Anyway, the TRUE enemy is one who watches from the periphery with a smile…something that Crowley always does. Always watching, but never seemingly acting. He lets everyone’s guard down by being useless, unreliable, and ridiculous, but he definitely has something up his sleeve. In Biblical lore, the wolf is considered a malevolent predator who feeds on the innocent. Like young and impressionable students, perhaps? I think it’s very interesting that Crowley refers to students as his eggs or chicks, like children that he’s “raising.” But a baby bird is one of the many symbols of innocence, and Yana Toboso herself has cryptically said how the repeated egg theme in TWST is a representation of how “Eggs are a good symbol of things that can never go back to how they were, once they have been broken.”

But what about the False Prophet? Well, I’ve recently made an analysis on how Crowley encourages the Overblots in every single book. As a little recap, he’s the one who suggests the magic duel against Riddle in Book 1, the Hall of Fame to Leona in Book 2, signs a contract with Azul in Book 3, abandons Yuu and also stirs Jamil’s hatred by making Kalim housewarden in Book 4, etc etc. He’s constantly leading these students astray in a very subtle manner. But I think he needs the Overblots to happen so Yuu can save them, so he can get the Overblot Crystals.

Additionally, Lilia mentions how historical narrative have been “twisted” to suit someone’s agenda. And judging from how everyone thinks the Disney Villains were sources of good to look up to, the manipulation from Crowley may be more literal than we think.

And if Crowley is leading these people astray for a greater purpose/higher power, this technically makes him a False Prophet. It goes even deeper when you consider his cryptic words throughout the books, as if he is seeing the future. He knows where the students are when they’re talking about important things, he knows when STYX will break in…and as I mentioned, ravens are connected to the gift of prophecy.

And guess what? The False Prophet, according to Christian lore, is part of the Unholy Trinity. TWST has a slyly repeats the theme of three, and which can noticed in NRC’s logo that may represent the past, present, and future. BUT THATS NOT WHY I WAS FREAKING OUT-

Because what does the Unholy Trinity consist of?

The DRAGON

The ANTICHRIST

And the FALSE PROPHET

In a previous theory examining religious symbolism with Meleanor and the Virgin Mary, I also concluded that Malleus Draconia is a representation of the Antichrist, especially because of the star imagery in TWST. Meleanor even refers to him as an “evil star” that would curse humanity.

But now I’m doubting this- I think I had it all wrong. Not about Meleanor being the Virgin Mary, but about who represents the Antichrist. But let me go over what the implications of the Unholy Trinity means first.

Edit: actually I never claimed Malleus was the antichrist at all in that post LMAO, I confused myself with the different names for Lucifer/Devil/Satan 😭😭😭 so technically I was right all along with claiming that Malleus is Lucifer in that post🤪🤪🤪🤪 I won’t edit out this mistake to avoid confusion in the reblogs

The Antichrist and the False Prophet are referred to as the “first and second beast,” who obey the DRAGON. But the Antichrist, aka the First Beast/Beast of the Sea, is described as “emerging from the abyss”

MALLEUS’ TITLE IS LITERALLY THE RULER OF THE ABYSS. IM GONNA- BABXBSB

Edit: I’d like to add that the Bible describes this Abyss as an unfathomably deep, dark, and boundless place, often compared to the ocean and chaos. And recently in Book 7, Silver almost succumbed to the darkness…where there was no light, no people, nothing except darkness and blot. That is TWST’s version of the Abyss, and Malleus is the ruler of it! This religious symbolism has to be intentional

I think the Antichrist actually GRIM. A supreme representation of evil thats said that appear at the END OF THE WORLD/APOCALYPSE. And if we recall the prologue, we see Grim in a horrible monster form in a shattered Mirror Chamber. An amalgamation from the Overblot Crystals, which is literally the condensed version of the Overblot, a representation of purely negative emotions.

And based on what text describes the First Beast as, he has “seven heads, appearance of a leopard, feet of a bear, and a mouth of a lion. The dragon gave him his power, his throne, and great authority.”

What’s even more interesting is that there’s an “Angel of the Abyss” known as Abaddon. His description intrigued me, as “king of a plague of locusts resembling horses with crowned human faces, women's hair, lions' teeth, wings, iron breast-plates, and a tail with a scorpion's stinger” Since this character is up to interpretation, some religious scholars say this character is the Antichrist. Again, it’s a wild amalgamation of features that sound like Grim.

The Second Beast/Beast of the Earth, aka the False Prophet, is said to rise from the earth (a metaphor for Hell perhaps) and force the world to worship the antichrist. That’s one of the definitions of the false prophet, as one who seeks to lure humanity astray alongside the Devil. Is this some crazy foreshadowing for what Crowley will do in the future?!

And once again using Biblical texts, this second beast “spoke like a dragon,” referring to his arrogance and connection to the Devil. It reminds me of Levan’s title as Ryūgan Duke Levan,” or 竜眼公レヴァーン , aka “Dragon-Eyed”

Anyway. Back to the Dragon, it’s also referred to as the Serpent. Serpents in biblical lore are incredibly important- but are also very symbolic in TWST. I’ve made an post analyzing the serpents in NRC’s logo before, but as a recap, they’re also one of the symbols of rebirth in TWST. I’d like to add that snakes also considered symbols of Wisdom, which is fitting for “Sages Island.” Some religious scholars also consider the lying serpent in the Garden of Eden to be the “first false prophet.”

But the Ancient Serpent specifically represents the “Devil/Satan/the Dragon.”

The reason why I’m doubting Meleanor being the “Dragon” in this Unholy Trinity is because the Dragon attacks the WOMAN OF THE APOCALYPSE, AKA THE VIRGIN MARY 🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️ IS MY MELEANOR THEORY COMING TRUE?!? ( I’m just being delulu but please humor me)

But what’s even more interesting is that again in Revelations, it’s said an Angel with a “key to the Abyss and a chain” locks up the Ancient Serpent for 1000 years. Hm?? Malleus literally said that everyone would sleep for 1000 years in his Overblot. What’s interesting about the Angel is that he has the key to the ABYSS…is this Angel meant to be Silver?!? Silver, who has a glowing ring protecting him from the darkness, and heavily connected to a magical sword??? So he the Angel with the “key” to the Abyss, aka Malleus?

So if Crowley is the false prophet…there’s a high chance he’s behind the Overblots. And remember: the False Prophet will force the world to worship the Antichrist. Is this to foreshadow how Crowley will make the Twisted Wonderland world fall because of Grim?

So let me recap what I think this means:

The Dragon- Malleus

The Antichrist- Grim

The False Prophet- Crowley

The Angel- Silver

The Virgin Mary- Meleanor

And you know what, let’s just throwing in the idea that Yuu is the Lamb that opens the Seven Seals, which marks the beginning of the apocalypse, and the Seven Angels/Trumpets are the Overblotters, WHY NOT. A theory to elaborate on for another day…perhaps it will be a series connecting the biblical apocalypse to TWST?

🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️ANYWAY IF THE UNHOLY TRINITY THING IS INTENTIONAL IM GONNA SPONTANEOUSLY COMBUST

To Joy, I got really carried away with this theory, apologies if it sounds confusing, I did NOT mean it to go this far 😭😭😭 but I swear, that was a muse moment, your meme made ALL my brain cells connect for once and I feel like I’ve unearthed something important 🫡

Of course, let me just say that these parallels are not perfect (e.g Malleus being the Dragon despite Meleanor being the Virgin Mary) and some of these characters may better fit other Biblical figures better 🫡 But since I’m focusing on the Apocalypse part, I think that is idea is working, and I’d really like to delve deeper into research!

#going insane as usual #twisted wonderland #twst #twst theory #twst spoilers #twst book 7 spoilers #twst dire Crowley #twst Crowley #dire Crowley #twst malleus draconia #twst malleus #malleus draconia #twst grim #twst silver #twst meleanor #kallistopost #Twst levan #twst revan #tw religious themes #tw religious imagery

[ghoulymadge]

Gentle Hands in a Time of Discomfort

Papa Emeritus I x Reader Word Count: 2,249

Summary: Confronted by a lingering backache, you turn to Primo, discovering unexpected comfort in the simplicity of opening up.

(Or: Primo gives you a back massage.)

Tags: chronic pain, gender-neutral reader, comfort, fluff, briefest nsfw mention, primo gives you a massage, really self-indulgent A/N: I was sad and experiencing a flare-up from chronic back pain, which resulted in this. Enjoy. 🥺

AO3 Link

The sharp pain radiating from your lower back (or maybe your hip; you couldn't quite place it) made each step toward Papa Emeritus I's quarters as painful as the last.

You had been assigned to the library a few days prior, and while kneeling to return a book to a lower shelf, you felt, and heard, a sudden pop as you rose to your feet.

It hadn't hurt too badly at first, just a nagging discomfort as you continued to hobble around and carry out the remainder of your tasks. You made sure to avoid any and all shelves that were below waist height, getting one of the younger, more limber Siblings to do it for you. But by the time you returned to the confines of your room, you could barely stand.

Holding onto the edge of your desk for support, you fished through the drawer for the last of your painkillers and quickly downed them dry. It wasn't something you would typically do, but you didn't wish to retrieve your water bottle from the other side of the room. 

Sucking in a deep breath through gritted teeth, you limped over to your bed.

You knew that the most sensible course of action would have been to consult with the abbey's physician. However, your irrational thoughts had you convinced that the problem would magically resolve itself by morning.

It hadn't, of course. Which is why, after explaining to Sister Imperator (or rather, explaining to her personal ghoul, who would then relay the message to her), the reason for needing the day off, you now found yourself standing at the door of Papa Emeritus the First.

Who better to confide in about aches and pains than an elder with the wisdom to understand your discomfort and empathise with your experiences?

As your knuckles rapped against the old oak door, the sound echoing in the stillness of the night, you could feel the anticipation building. In all your time at the ministry, you'd, unfortunately, never actually spent any one-on-one time with him.

But based on your distant observations—whether it was watching him interact with the other siblings, attending one of his masses, or even as he tended to his plants in the abbey’s garden—you found him to be a gentle soul, despite his somewhat eerie demeanour, especially when he was dressed in his robes and papal face paint. 

It was why you decided to approach him rather than one of his other brothers.

After a short period of quiet, you began to consider the possibility that he had already retired for the night, a reasonable expectation given his age. However, as you started to withdraw, you heard what appeared to be the shuffling of slippers, followed by the gradual creaking of the door as it opened.

Emerging from the obscurity behind it, the face of the eldest Emeritus came into view, with the dimly lit hallway casting shadows that accentuated his weathered features. Though subtle, you noticed remnants of smudged black paint in the creases of his mouth and nose, suggesting he must have conducted mass earlier in the day. You couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment for having missed it.

"Sibling," he greeted you with a warm smile that forced the corners of his eyes to wrinkle. You found it incredibly endearing. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

You opened your mouth to reply, to explain your situation, when another twinge of pain in your back stifled your words. Instinctively, your hand reached around and rested on the source of discomfort. The tablets you’d taken earlier must have been starting to wear off. “Sorry, I—”

Worry etched across Papa's face as he swiftly moved to accompany you by your side, snaking an arm around you so you wouldn’t have to bear too much weight on the side that ached. Before you could protest, he was already carefully guiding you through the door and into his quarters.

"It seems that I have already unravelled the mystery of your presence here," he quipped as you both approached a set of welcoming armchairs draped in red velvet by an impressive fireplace. The warmth radiating from it touched your face even before you sat down.

As you sank into the plush chair to your left, you breathed a sigh of relief. The pain seemed to ease somewhat—perhaps comforted by the enveloping atmosphere of the room, or maybe by the company within it. The eldest Emeritus, having released his hold on you, offered a brief, comforting rub to your shoulder before taking the seat adjacent to you. A quiet groan escaped from him on the descent, which only reaffirmed that you had come to the right person.

"Now," he began, hands casually smoothing out the wrinkles in his robe, "is this a new development, or something that has been bothering you for some time, hm?"

You explained your situation, confessing that you’ve had the occasional ache in the past, but nothing so severe that it hadn't resolved itself after a solid night’s sleep. However, this? This felt different. The fear that it might be permanent was the real reason you hadn’t sought out help yet. You didn’t want them to confirm your worry—that you would have to endure it for the rest of your life.

“I only wish I could take the burden of this pain from you, amoruccio.”

“Papa—”

“Primo, please,” he corrected you, his voice filled with a gentle insistence, “and believe me, I understand what you are going through. It has been quite some time since I experienced a life untouched by pain. However, there are ways to manage it; you do not need to suffer.”

There was a brief pause during which his gaze met yours before he continued. “But firstly, you must promise me you will speak with our physician—tomorrow, preferably.”

You gave a reluctant nod.

“Use your words. Promise me.”

How could you refuse those kind, mis-matched eyes? “Okay, yes, I promise.”

Satisfied with your response, Primo gave a content hum. 

A comfortable silence filled the space between the pair of you. You opted to shut your eyes and immerse yourself in the comforting sounds of the wood crackling in the fireplace.

You weren't completely sure how much time had passed, as you had become so engrossed that you failed to notice Primo getting up from his chair to fetch something from the kitchen. It was only when he gently nudged your arm that you snapped out of your trance.

As you looked upward, you observed him extending a glass of water and some tablets to you. You graciously accepted and promptly downed them. While you drank, Primo couldn't help but watch as droplets of water traced a path down your chin. Despite the impulse to wipe them away with his thumb, he exercised self-control.

“These are likely stronger than whatever you have. You will want to sleep shortly after taking them, which is why I offer you my bed tonight.”

“Papa—,” you quickly corrected yourself, “Primo, I couldn’t.”

“I would be deeply insulted if you refused,” his tone was playful, but you got a sense that there was truth to his words.

With a defeated sigh, the painkillers appeared to act swiftly, just as Primo had cautioned. They left you feeling too tired to muster any resistance—not that you had the inclination to in the first place. Setting the glass you had still been holding down onto the side table, you steadied yourself by gripping the arms of the chair to stand up once more.

However, Primo wouldn’t have that. He signalled for you to let go and, instead, interlaced his fingers with yours. Simultaneously, his other hand rested on the middle of your back, aiding you in rising to your feet. You were relieved to find that the pain had mostly subsided for now.

“Come,” he led you past the kitchen and towards what you assumed was his bedroom door. As you enter, your eyes are immediately drawn to the oversized bed in the centre of the room. The frame is solid and impressive, but it's not too over-the-top; it has a laid-back elegance and just the right touch of sophistication.

You couldn’t resist gliding your hand over the burgundy silk sheets as you sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Is it to your liking?” Primo asked, reaching down to retrieve something from the drawer of the bedside table closest to you. He slipped it into the pocket of his robe before you got a chance to see what it was.

“This is probably the fanciest bed I’ve ever sat on if I’m being honest,” you remarked candidly.

“Is that so?” Primo chuckled with genuine warmth, returning to your side and maintaining his stance. “You should see Terzo’s then,” he suggested offhandedly. However, in that brief moment, a shadow of regret crossed his face, as if the realisation of the impact of his words had just dawned on him. "On second thought, maybe it is best if you do not."

“Nevertheless," he carried on before you could inquire about his previous remark, "before we retire for the night, there is one last thing I would like to do for you.”

“You’ve already done more than enough,” you protested, genuinely touched by his thoughtful gestures throughout the evening. In a surprising display of boldness and wanting to outwardly express your appreciation, you reached out and held his hand with both of yours, gently rubbing your thumbs across his skin.

In response, Primo rested his other hand on top of yours. “Allow your Papa to massage your troubles away, mio dolce.”

Admittedly, the idea of indulging in a massage from the most senior Emeritus was undeniably an enticing one. While the gesture itself was not inherently sexual, it carried an intimacy that evoked a delightful flutter in the pit of your stomach and a subtle flush across your cheeks.

Yes. You would allow yourself this.

"Lie down for me then,” he instructed once you agreed, “on your stomach."

You complied, settling comfortably onto the cool sheets with your arms crossed in front of you, chin resting on top. Primo circled around to the opposite side of the bed, shuffled across, and repositioned himself beside you.

As you turned your head to face him, your lips curved into a smile. "If I may...?" he asked, his question lingering in the air as his hands hovered just above the small of your back, right at the hem of your top. In response, you not only raised it but also chose to remove it altogether—a gesture that not only made things more convenient for him but also reflected the profound sense of security you felt with Primo, a space free from any concerns of judgement.

He reached into the pocket of his robe once again to retrieve what he had placed there earlier—a small glass jar. You couldn't make out the label, if it even had one, but you assumed it was an ointment meant to soothe aches. At least, that's what you hoped for.

Primo deftly unscrewed the lid and scooped out a small heap of its contents. With a gentle touch, he began at your shoulders, his fingers moving in slow, circular motions. To your delight, each stroke was accompanied by a soothing warmth provided by the ointment. As the stress of the day melted away, you couldn't help but relax even further into the soft embrace of the bed.

He continued down your spine, focusing on a notably sensitive area in your lower back, the origin of your unease. To your horror, an involuntary moan left your lips upon contact, causing Primo to tense momentarily. Unaware to you, his body nearly gave away his reaction; beneath his robes, his cock stirred at the pleasing sound he’d unintentionally drawn from you.

"Careful,” Primo chuckled softly, “I may not possess the youth I once did, but I am still a man."

You buried your face in your arms, a mix of embarrassment and the realisation that your entire face was turning red. "’I’m so sorry," you mumbled with a muffled voice.

He waved off your apology. "Such reactions are completely natural. I consider it a compliment, my dear."

After a few minutes, the tension on your end had eased as he finished the massage, completing the final circles into your back. "There," he declared. Leaning in, he softly kissed the top of your head. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better," you sighed.

Primo gave a satisfied hum and briefly stepped away from your presence to cleanse his hands of the lingering ointment. Granted, it had proven advantageous for him and the ageing joints in his fingers too. The two of you were swiftly reunited, and he passed you an additional pillow.

“Lie on your side and put a pillow between your knees; you will find that your pain will not be nearly as intense come morning.”

“Thank you, Primo.”

"Now, let us get some rest."

Repositioning for added comfort following Primo's suggestion to place a pillow between your legs, he dimmed the nearby lamp, creating a gentle and welcoming glow.

The conversation gradually faded, replaced by the rhythmic sounds of deep, steady breaths as sleep began to claim you both. The room became a haven of tranquillity, a sanctuary where the weight of the world lifted, if only for a little while.

You never wanted to leave.

#ghost #the band ghost #ghost band #ghost bc #ghost fic #ghost fanfiction #primo #papa emeritus i #primo x reader #papa emeritus i x reader #i don't know how to tag fics help #(please for the love of god be nice)

[intimidating-fettuccine]

https://www.tumblr.com/intimidating-fettuccine/689134446849490944/this-may-be-a-sad-request-but-im-curious-to?source=share

Can I request this question with Toby please? Heartbreak is what I live for

Another one for the series, Slender pulling the creep away from Y/N's corpse after Y/N died in front of them. Click here if you'd like to see the one linked

You asked for heartbreak, so I hope this gives it to you

He's weak. Toby is slouched against you, still hugging your now cold body firmly in his arms as he nuzzles into you. He doesn't know how long it's been, but his body seems to have run out of tears, and his throat doesn't seem to be working anymore. He can't feel the pain of it, but he's imagining that it's quite sore and raw from all of the screaming he's been doing. While it's not that he can't move, Toby chooses not to let go of you. He doesn't want to, he can't just get up and let you go, he can't leave you, but he doesn't want to have to go home with or without you and accept that you've truly died.

However, that fear seems to be coming true as soon as Slender appears before him. Toby looks up at him and imagines he himself must be quite the sight, his body soaked in your blood, his face washed out and covered in tears, his eyes red from irritation. He instinctively pulls your body closer to his as his lips start to tremble and frown, and he closes his eyes and pretends that Slender isn't there, that this isn't happening. Slender feels a deep sorrow in his chest as he looks at the two of you, but he also knows that he can't just leave the two of you here. When he softly calls out Toby's name, Toby begins to shake his head back and forth, refusing to move, refusing to accept it, refusing to so much as even glance at Slender. It hurts Slender's heart to do this, but he walks over to the two of you, and he warps you both home, to the medical area. He hates to do it, but he has to pull Toby off of you.

Toby fights him, he uses what's left of his voice to let out raspy screams, and he struggles and fights and claws at Slender to stop him, but after all he's been through, Slender is the stronger one, and he gets Toby off of you, pulling him into a hug, even as Toby punches Slender's chest and tries to get back to you, Slender keeps holding onto him in a comforting embrace. Toby wails and cries, eventually clutching onto Slender, shaking his head as he screams out in pain at the acceptance of your passing. As Slender eventually sets out to work at cleaning and preparing your body, he makes sure to keep an arm or a few tendrils wrapped around Toby to comfort him and keep him at ease. Toby sags into his side, crying weakly as he watches you get taken care of, and as Slender prepares to put you into a morgue freezer, Toby presses one final kiss to your forehead, trying not to start wailing again as Slender slides the freezer shut and locks it. Slender stays by Toby that night, cleaning him up and helping him change, resting beside him as he sleeps. He can tell that Toby needs the company, and a part of him knows that Toby shouldn't be left alone for a while for his own safety and comfort. With the pain running through both of them at the circumstances, Toby isn't the only one that cries himself to sleep that night. Physically, Slender has lost one child that night, but mentally, he's lost two.

#creepypasta #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta x reader #ticci toby #ticci toby headcanon #ticci toby headcanons #ticci toby x reader #slenderman #slenderman headcanon #slenderman headcanons #slenderman x reader

[ladyluscinia]

Draft clearing. I think I had more of a point on the topic of Jenkins and genre I wanted to make when I gathered these, but I'm not feeling it anymore. However, I need spread awareness of his absolutely baffling ideas about pirate media and how he sounds half-convinced it must be a formulaic action/adventure. I only picked up on this by reading way too many interviews back to back so I'm not surprised I've never seen anyone else mention it, but like. It's wild. And he's SO additionally weird about how showrunning a piece of media about pirates relates to whatever concept he has of pirate media in his head.

Here's the link to my interview compilation if you want to check my sources on these.

Jenkins Quotes on "Pirate Genre"

"I think actual pirate stuff is fine, but it's not necessarily my cup of tea. And I think Taika [Waititi] felt similarly.

[...]

Showrunner Jenkins sees Our Flag Means Death as having "joy. A lot of joy. I like Stede because Stede is, to me, the outsider artist of pirates. And I think in designing the show, I was conscious [of the fact that it's] a hard genre to do anything to. It's a very stubborn genre because it's been done so well and so often. So I kind of tried to look at, like New York, like Alphabet City in the '80s via a pirate genre via Mad Max and try to throw all these different things at it. So I think you'll get a different feel than you'd get on a normal pirate thing. I think we achieved that with our amazing crew." - (Gizmodo, 2/22/22)

"I guess I really… I get kind of bored. How much pirate can you do? They're going to rob stuff. They're going to steal ships. There's only so many pirate stories you can do." - (Collider, 3/24/22)

Despite creating a pirate show, he himself says he's not a huge fan of pirate movies. - (EW.com, 12/13/22)

"I don't want to see a bunch of pirate things that I've seen in other things, I'll just go watch another thing if I want to see that. That's not really my thing. I like the genre, but it's a very hard genre to budge. I want to see relationships in a pirate world." - (TV Guide, 10/5/23)

"The pirate genre is fun, but I wasn't dying to make a pirate show. Taika wasn't dying to make a pirate show. But the thing that was interesting to me was that Stede finds love, and he finds it with Blackbeard." - (Variety, 10/13/23)

"I think there is something in the show about how piracy is a brutal way of life. It's essentially Mad Max, this world. There's no law, there's just strong and weak." - (Polygon, 10/21/23)

"And it’s also a pirate show, so he’s got to die." - (Vanity Fair, 10/26/23)

"Another thing I love is what I call shaggy stories, stories about people navigating each other. When you plug them into different genres, you get this great engine that comes with it. I'm not particularly dying to write a pirate thing, but I want to write a bunch of characters trying to navigate each other in a pirate thing." - (Vulture, 10/28/23)

"But I'm like you. I'm not a big pirate person. In general, it's a big creaky genre that's hard to budge, but I think the show benefits from we can pull pirate stuff out when we need it. Ultimately, yeah, I want to see these different relationships and perspectives on different relationships. Then it's fun to plug it into an overwrought genre.

[...]

Pirates of the Caribbean, those movies are great. That's not necessarily what I hunger to see, but in that genre, it's great. You're not going to beat that, especially on something that's lower budget. We've seen a lot of this stuff, so it's fun to take it then and don't do any of that stuff." - (Metro Weekly, 11/1/23)

"I think it's more interesting to me that I've never seen a love story like this in this genre, and you dream for that. Really, pirates, what can you do that's different with pirates?

[...]

To me, to tell the story about these two men in this very hetero action genre, falling for each other..." - (Metro Weekly, 11/1/23)

---

...This is the same guy who just ended a season on the British Navy blowing up Nassau for symbolism reasons that I'm pretty sure have nothing to do with the love story. 🤨

#good news - his forest fight is probably not intentionally a weak parody of black sails #because despite being a known tragedy enjoyer i don't think he would watch black sails #our flag means death #ofmd s2 #ofmd piracy #david jenkins #i'll also do just to be safe #ofmd critical #even though this is 90% just pulling his own words together for you to make your own conclusion #ladyluscinia

[ghouljams]

GHOUL I LOVE YOU omg you've been feeding me so well I don't deserve you. I've been obsessed with your demon au (frothing at the mouth, salivating, gripping into my bedsheets as I read all of it) and I had an idea. I was reading a fic, which I'll link down below don't worry, about ghost dying in combat and coming back to you in actual ghost form. How do you feel about the idea of ghost going to hell but they turn him into your demon? He promises he'll never leave you, goes on a mission and just...never returns. But Ghost is not only your lover, but he's a legend in hell and why would hell waste a good soldier? They send him back up to you........

You become the new war machine, your boots digging into still hot flesh as you march over the bodies that Ghost has torn down. You see him across the way, watching as he slaughters anything and everything that stands in his path. Ghost isn't fighting for the task force anymore, he's fighting for you. And heaven will burn before anything happens to what's his.

Sorry if this is kind of a rant but I have this horrible craving for angst and violence.

https://www.tumblr.com/ceilidho/727096787831341056/prompt-you-keep-seeing-apparitions-of-a-dead?source=share

OK ON GOD I AM IN LOVE WITH THAT FIC holy shit

Alright another real quick demon au for the Ghosty boy, not exactly what you said but... I think you'll like it

There are things that are meant to be seen, and then there are demons. Human eyes were never meant to look upon such wonders, such living machines, all perfectly curated musculature and instinct. You're lucky if you never catch a glimpse of one. Such beauty could drive a person mad. To see what humanity would never touch but always strive for would be a curse. One that would haunt and eat away at you until there was no choice but to give in to it, and hopefully become one of them.

You press your hands to your mouth, leaned forward with your elbows on your knees, unsteady from the way you bounce your leg. Nothing more they could do. That's what doctors always said on TV, you didn't think you'd actually hear it in real life.

"We just have to wait and see," They tell you, and you nod. You all nod, because you understand what those words mean. The 141 is always prepared for tragedy, never more so than in the long hours you spend waiting for Ghost to wake up. He's crammed so full of tubes and wires, the nurses rotating different syringes of medicine through his IVs, you hardly recognize him.

You take shifts. One of you in the room with him at all times, cramped in the uncomfortable hospital chair. All of you figuring he'll want a friendly face when he wakes up, and drawing up a schedule. Damn military training. Still, it's good. It means when you relieve Soap of his watch you know he's going to grab some sleep, the same way you know Gaz will be by when your shift ends in the wee hours of the morning.

You must doze off even with a nap under your belt, because when you wake up it's freezing in Ghost's hospital room. You check your watch, 03:00. The witching hour. Nothing good ever happens at three AM. You sigh and get up to ask the nursing station for a blanket, if you're cold you're sure Ghost is too. If he can even feel cold like this.

Something deeply wrong and horribly familiar grabs your hand.

You tense and turn. Ghost stares at you, his fingers tight around yours, your stomach drops and you rush to slam your hand on the call button. He's awake. He's awake and it's chaos. You spend the next few hours talking to doctors, watching nurses pull tubes out of Ghost's throat and perform tests on every patch of skin that isn't bandaged. You stand outside his room and talk to Price over the phone, make sure the rest of the team knows Ghost's back from the dead and passing everything with flying colors.

You don't mention what you don't want to say out loud, what you can't even put a name to. Something in his eyes, they're darker than they used to be. Not the color but the depth of them. Something in his voice is richer, something about the way he moves feels... more. The room is freezing and no one can get the temperature up.

You think someone will notice. When the rest of the 141 shows up to visiting hours you think one of them will see what you do. You hope. They don't. If they do, none of them mention it. The only difference is in the way Ghost keeps reaching for you, keeps taking your hand, pulling you to sit on the edge of his bed whenever you're close. Your relationship wasn't a secret, but he's never been one for PDA. Now you can hardly come within arms length without him touching you. Soap teases you for it, and Price is happy enough just having Ghost back not to mention it.

Gaz asks if you're alright when you excuse yourself from the room. The two of you speaking quietly by the vending machine. You pour out your fears to him and ask if he's noticed anything, anything, different about Ghost.

"Just that he seems glad to be back," Gaz tells you, a reassuring hand on your shoulder. It's the way he says "back" that gives you pause. Back. Back from where? Were you the only one that had been holding out hope he wasn't dead? Had the rest of your team been sitting in the hospital room with what they thought was a corpse? You don't push it further, too afraid what Gaz will say next. They're glad he's alive and that's all you have to hold onto.

It's almost like nothing happened when he's discharged --sooner than anyone expected, sooner than a normal man should've been after what happened-- and you almost start to believe nothing did happen. You can ignore the scar on your shoulder, the only evidence that Ghost ever spared you his fate. You can ignore the way he slides his hand against the curve of your back when he never used to. You can ignore the fact that, that's all he'll do, just touch you. Like he's reassuring himself you're there. He hasn't come to your room, he hasn't pulled you into his lap, he hasn't kissed you or called you anything but your name, and you're the only one who seems to notice.

You're the only one that raises an objection when Ghost is cleared for duty. The only one with no real reason to object. The way he stares you down afterwards... he knows that you know something you shouldn't.

It's not until you're actually in the field with him that you realize what it is, where he must have come back from. It's the way he pushes his mask up, hunched and panting over a pile of corpses. The way he wipes his bloodied hand against his lips. The dark black smoke that he forces from his lungs with each exhale. The inky veins of his hands, his arms. The sulfur smell that sticks in your nose. Fire and brimstone. He looks at you like a wild animal, any thoughts behind his eyes unfathomable and inhuman.

He's perfect, you think. A perfect machine, made just for this. Your Simon, wrong in all the right ways.

"You're not supposed to see this," He rolls his shoulders back, tips his head towards you as he licks the blood off his lips. You raise your gun, keep it trained on him. He takes a step towards you, and you shoulder your rifle, stand a little more purposefully.

"Don't move," You warn him.

"Put the gun down," Ghost warns you in turn. He takes another step towards you, you slip your foot back, preparing to run. His eyes dart over your shoulder. "Price tell them."

You turn to look and feel your heart drop as Ghost grabs your gun. No one's there. Why would they be?

Ghost rips your gun from your hands and spins you, twisting your arm behind your back. You struggle, stomp on his insole, he twists your other arm behind your back to hold you like a wild dog. Barking and biting at nothing. When you finally do sag against his hold, it feels the same as always. You expected the dread of a death sentence to seize you, but it's like sparring.

"I missed you," He murmurs, pulling you against his chest. Ghost's head drops, his covered nose against your neck, breathing you in. The ridges of his mask are uncomfortably inflexible.

"You left me," You bite back, all the misplaced anger pushing itself to the surface. How could he take that hit for you? Didn't he know how much it would hurt you? What happened to always coming home? What happened to never leaving you alone? He died. He fucking died, and he came back wrong and no one will believe you.

"I know," He presses his lips to your shoulder, to your still aching scar, "I'm sorry."

"You left," You can't think of anything else to say, can't think of any other words to break on your tongue. You emotions are running wild. Tears prick at your eyes, anger, frustration, grief you never let yourself touch. It all hurts more than you can put into words.

"Never again," Ghost tells you, he's so warm and solid behind you, he still holds you like you might make a run for it, "I'm all yours now, yeah? Never leaving you again," He kisses your jaw, you can smell the blood on him, "I'll claw my way out of as many graves as I have to, deal?"

You nod, feel something heavy settle in your chest, feel Ghost shiver behind you. That's what you're afraid of, you think, that he'll keep coming back. Different each time.

"Not different," Ghost hums in your ear, "Better."

#cod x reader #simon ghost riley #x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #demon!Ghost #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #spooky boy ghost #let's make a fuckin' deal baby let's gooooooo #I miss writing horror I should write more horror

[yanderes-galore]

How would yandere platonic link x maid reader x Yandere romantic Ganon hcs go especially with a reader who tends to attract danger ~  please love to see what you come up with, I Thank you in advance 💗

I assumed you meant Ocarina of Time era? Because that's what came to mind for me. I'm rusty on the details of the game's plot but I hope that does not change much. Link is tame in this as he's just overprotective.

This talks of time skips between young and adult link. You are 18 during the young Link era and 25 during the adult Link era.

If you are wondering ahout the dynamic. You and Link see each other as siblings/friends while Ganon sees you in a romantic light. Hopefully that makes sense.

Yandere! Platonic! Link with Maid! Reader vs Yandere! Romantic! Ganondorf

Pairing: Platonic (Link)/Romantic (Ganondorf)

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Obsession, Manipulation (Ganon primarily), Overprotective behavior (Link), Possessive behavior (Ganon), Forced relationship/marriage (Ganon), Consensual companionship (Link).

Let's start with you.

You are a young royal maid working for the king.

You tend to the princess and all of her needs while keeping the castle clean.

For the most part you stay out of the way of guards and others.

You tend to gardens and on your time off you roam the castle.

You and Princess Zelda are close as you have a warm aura to you.

You do her hair and watch over the young princess like a sibling.

You don't meet Link or Ganon until later.

In fact you meet them relatively close to one another.

You meet Link, the young Hylian boy, when he's sneaking about the castle.

You catch him speaking with Zelda alone and quickly rush over to chase the troublesome boy off.

Yet Zelda stops you, explaining how he is a friend and ally.

You inquire further and Zelda tells you about her prophetic dreams.

She says she feels the boy, Link, will be a hero in the future.

While Ganondorf is a source of evil that will try to corrupt Hyrule.

You take the girl's words with a grain of salt and promise her you won't tell the king about her new friend.

Meanwhile you turn to Link and ask him about himself.

He isn't really one for words but you manage to learn that he's from the Kokiri Forest and was somehow instructed here by his fairy.

On closer inspection you can tell he's Hylian, which only makes you more confused about the boy.

Link is a strange enigma to you but you don't see him as much of a threat.

Before you leave, Zelda asks you to be careful around Ganondorf.

You recall that he is the visitor who gave allegiance to the king recently.

You haven't actually spoken to him yet but promise to keep an eye out.

In fact... you thought he made you feel off when bowing to the king.

That's how you meet Link the first time.

After that you occasionally see him visit outside the castle where you greet him and relay messages.

Overtime he becomes like a little brother to you.

You look after him when you see him just like you do with the princess.

That's the bond you two/three share.

Now here's your meeting with Ganondorf....

Eventually you're going to meet him while working at the castle.

The first time is a brief glance while he meets with the king.

You bring food and drink, only to catch gleaming eyes flash to you.

A grin appears on his face for a moment before you turn and quickly leave.

He makes you feel... wrong.

You wonder if Zelda has a point.

Yet that must just be your anxiety at work!

Afterwards Ganondorf may try to meet you more often.

When he's at he castle he often asks for you to bring him food, water, or some sort of item.

It's then he tries to initiate conversation.

You're extremely nervous yet put up with it.

Ganondorf seems like he'd be very smooth with words if he can win over the king.

He notices you don't trust him.

While he enjoys your fearful gaze, he tries to make you more comfortable.

He changes his tone and tries to be welcoming.

He's an ally of the king! Does he scare you that bad?

You poor maid... shaking in your shoes as you speak to a wolf in sheep's clothing.

Ganondorf would purposefully try to make you trust him.

He offers you to sit with him and talk over some drink.

In the halls he greets you and initiates small conversation.

In reality he's trying to remove suspicions to his plan.

However... he also finds it fun to mess with your fear.

At some point he even feels attraction brew in his beastly heart.

When he gains power he'll keep you as his own personal maid.

While Link prepares himself by gathering what's needed to open the Temple of Time, this is what's going on.

Ganondorf tries his best to charm you, perhaps even giving compliments while trying sweeten you up around him.

You fear his intentions yet still push through it to keep an eye on him.

When you manage to get away from him, you find yourself speaking with Link.

Like a big sister you ask how he's doing and if he's okay.

He can tell your demeanor has changed due to Ganon although you never tell him a word.

Zelda most likely tells him when they meet.

Link doesn't like that you're constantly pestered by Ganondorf, the supposedly evil man.

He's protective of you yet he can't do anything... yet.

Let's skip to the point of when he unlocks the Temple of Time.

This is when Link encounters two versions of you.

As young Link he sees you as the kind young maid who cares for him and the princess.

As an adult, when seven years past, he sees you as an older woman under the control of Ganondorf.

Just as he suspected, Ganon was not pestering you for no reason.

In the future Ganondorf has taken you as his (forced) bride.

This fact hurts Link.

To see the woman he befriended, the one who cared for him and the princess, forced to be with the evil lord makes him sick.

As a result, Link accepts his role as the Hero of Time.

He not only has to save Zelda and Hyrule...

But he feels he needs to save you too.

I'm going to skip around as Ganondorf's obsession over you spans over seven years.

Meanwhile Link's more protective obsession is split between young and adult Link.

Obviously the two obsessions are different.

Ganondorf intends to force you to be his wife, his queen.

While Link sees you just as family, he doesn't want you condemned to such a fate.

It can be assumed as much that Ganondorf has been trying to court you until Link opened the Temple of Time.

Once Ganondorf was able to get inside and have the Triforce, he didn't have to be patient anymore.

While Link was sealed away, Ganondorf swoops in to you with newfound power.

There's no doubt you tried to flee to Kakariko like most.

Despite this the Gerudo King still ordered you be hunted down an brought to him.

After all, he's claimed you since he saw you.

This whole rivalry would span the entire Ocarina of Time story.

Link would be going from temple to temple to awaken sages.

When he can he tries to find you as young Link to check on how you're holding up.

Link is driven to help you, it becomes a goal that keeps him going.

While Ganondorf prepares and makes you his perfect maid/queen, Link prepares to fight the final battle.

Link matures and becomes ready to fight Ganondorf and save you.

When the big fight happens, you're forced to watch.

You can only sit and hope the young boy you knew years ago can defeat this monster.

There's only two outcomes.

Ganondorf wins and you're forced to continue being his queen, watching your world suffer in silence.

Or Link saves you, Zelda, and Hyrule....

Link seems like the most tame yandere in this.

The reason being he really just wants you safe.

The moment he gets you out of Ganon's clutches, he refuses to have you leave his arms.

To you, you haven't seen this kid in years.

To him? He's seen the suffering you've had to go through.

He saw it start, he saw it end.

He refuses to have you go through that again.

Even when Zelda gives him back his childhood, Link still vows to visit you.

To Link, it feels like he's on a trip to save family.

Even as he grows up, he promises to be your little defender.

It's a childish promise but he'll do anything to see you happy.

After Ganondorf is banished, your life goes back to caring for a young Zelda and Link.

Link plans to keep it that way as he grows up naturally, in his eyes you are the closest he's had to a sibling outside of the Kokiri.

He'd do anything to keep you happy...

Even if it meant slaying what he deems evil all over again just to achieve that.

#yandere legend of zelda #yandere loz #yandere ocarina of time #yandere loz oot #yandere link #yandere ganondorf #platonic yandere #romantic yandere #platonic vs romantic yandere

[yourlocaltreesimp]

Valentine’s Special: Wild

Yeah!!! Two down, 16 more to go. No TW, hope yall enjoy!

۵♡۵

Wild

Valentine’s spent in or out on the town?

He’d definitely prefer staying in with you as opposed to going out. Now of course, we must take into consideration that this is the Hero of the Wilds we’re talking about and he most certainly has a list of places that are absolutely stunning for a picnic date. You won’t be ‘in’ so much as being inside, He just prefers to not make a whole big affair out of his love for you.

He’d spend days -maybe months- in advance gathering your favourite foods and meal prepping exactly for valentine’s. He’d take many trips and photos of each location of Hyrule and narrow it down to whichever one he believes you’d have the most fun and enjoy yourself.

The picnic may extend into a whole camping trip/expedition/quest/adventure but you’ll hardly notice the days bleed into one another with the endless entertainment he brings. Afterall, he did pick out a place not only for scenery, but where his beloved would enjoy the most. He’d find a place in Eldin if that’s where you’d most enjoy.

I could see him making you jewellery with stones he mined. Taking a few lessons from the jeweller in Gerudo town on the weekends is surprisingly manageable.

I don’t see him as the type to enjoy Valentine’s until he meets you. It just made him sad about his life before, what he’d lost, what he could never return to. But it’s you who teaches him that there’s more to love than idolization, that it’s something far softer and fragile that it’s no wonder people made a holiday to fawn over it.

He’s a bit emotionally dense so good luck ig!

۵♡۵

The cabin was by no means luxurious, it’s wooden beams dipping inward with the weight of itself and the cold of Hebra slipped through the cracks. The wind whistled within the cracks of the wooden walls, blending in with the ambience of the fire crackling away within its hearth. You sat on the counter as Link finished up lunch— a hearty stew to replenish your energy from hiking all the way up here with him. He beamed, handing you a bowl and sliding up onto the counter next to you, watching eagerly to see your opinions. Though to the world he held up the character of indifference for the sake of strength, for you he was worlds away from such a standard. You hummed in contentment with the warmth that came with the meal he presented to you, and his eyes lit up even more. To him, you were his heart. You were the source of all the feelings he was taught to suppress and still, you drew them out of him. He owes every daring grin and glower in anger to you. You who taught him not how to feel —such a thing is innate to most people— but how to accept what he feels. To read them.

“Hey… do you wanna go shield surfing after this?” But maybe that was just because you knew how to read him.

#linked universe #legend of zelda #linkeduniverse #link x reader #linked universe x reader #link x you #x reader #lu wildxreader #lu wild #botw!link #botw link #botw linkxreader #fir’s library

[corrodedbisexual]

bound, beautiful, beloved

Steddie | E | ~7.8k | AO3 link

Written for @steves-strapcollection's birthday! 🥰 I hope you have a wonderful day dear friend and co-member of the sacred cult of Good Boy Eddie. 😂 Happy birthday!!! 🎉🫶

Featuring: Porn with Feelings, Fluff and Smut, Dom/sub Play, Shibari, Vibrators, Lace Panties, Prostate Massage, Overstimulation, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Nipple Play, Body Worship, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Dry Humping, Mirror Sex, Rimming, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Laughter During Sex, Making Out, Aftercare, Post-Coital Cuddling, Light Angst, Romance, Self-Esteem Issues, Trauma, Insecurity, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Non-Sexual Bondage, Tenderness, Banter, Dorks in Love, Dancing, Massage, Established Relationship, Top/Switch/Soft dom Steve Harrington, Bottom/Switch/Sub Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson is Steve Harrington's good boy, POV Steve Harrington

Steve's boyfriend looks like the ultimate wet dream. There’s never a time he doesn’t find Eddie the most beautiful and sexy person in the entire world, but this view, right here… this definitely takes the icing on the cake. Steve can still hardly believe they got to this point. It took two weeks to bring this particular fantasy to life. But really, they have been working up to this kind of moment for much, much longer. *** A story of Steve and Eddie growing into their intimate relationship, full of playfulness, amazing orgasms, developing trust and confidence, and above all else, unconditional love.

Snippet below!

Steve licks his thumb and exaggeratedly loudly flips another page of a sports magazine in his hands. One he definitely hasn’t managed to comprehend a single word of, while all his senses are attuned to the sounds coming from the foot of the bed.

The constant buzzing noise. The harsh breathing. The occasional whimper, or sheets rustling, or the springs inside the mattress creaking slightly.

Unable to help himself, Steve once again glances over the edge of the page at the absolute erotic masterpiece that is his boyfriend. He’s not sure why he even decided on this absurd game of mock disinterest. He’d rather be watching the sight in front of him the entire time, not pretend to be reading the magazine he can’t give a single fuck about right now.

Eddie’s sitting back on his heels, his shins bound to his thighs with a gorgeous diamond patterned leg tie. Another piece of Steve’s handiwork is a harness woven across his hips, snug underneath his balls and framing his crotch in a way that makes Steve’s mouth water every time he looks. Besides the bright red ropes, the only clothing on Eddie is a matching red pair of lace panties. Eddie’s cock is straining desperately against the delicate fabric, a dark wet spot already visible below the tip.

Eddie meets his eyes briefly, his pupils blown, lips parted, face and chest flushed. Then, he drops his head and groans, trying to grind his hips back into the source of his sweet torture, to no avail. Everything Steve’s done was to ensure he would neither be able to escape it, nor attempt any extra stimulation.

Of course, potentially he could. His hands were left untied, but untied doesn’t mean free. They are bound by Steve’s firm command, right after he finished all of his rope work, gently tugging on Eddie’s wrists and guiding them down to the mattress. “Hands against the bed, baby. Keep them there. You can be a good boy and do that for me, can’t you?”

And so, Eddie’s hands stay in place, squeezing and clawing at the sheets to either side of his bound thighs.

Steve glances at his watch. It’s only been ten minutes, yet Eddie already looks like a fucking wreck. Steve can see how hard his arms are shaking, how he’s likely desperate to touch himself through the soft lace that must feel like absolute torment on his leaking dick. Creating pressure but no friction. Steve’s tried them on once, so he knows what it’s like when you’re hard, to feel every swirl of that beautiful pattern against hypersensitive skin.

Other than being pretty (so, so pretty stretched over Eddie’s equally pretty cock, hard and thick, with a prominent contour of veins now standing out against the lace), the panties serve a very practical purpose. Steve couldn’t quite figure out how to keep the magic wand in place where he wanted it with only ropes, and this solution was just genius. The handle is tucked into part of the hip harness underneath Eddie’s ass, whereas the head of the device is firmly held by the elastic of the panties, pressed snug against his taint, sending steady vibrations to his balls and prostate. Lowest speed setting. Not enough to push him to the brink, just enough to slowly drive him mad with the relentless teasing.

“Ah, I see you’re… not enjoying your magazine… much..?” Eddie catches him looking and grins, way too cocky for the situation he’s currently in. As if on cue, his dick twitches again in his panties, and he groans, sucking in his stomach and uselessly rolling his hips again, as if trying to grind on thin air. “Oh fuck. Jesus. How much longer?..”

“What, you’ve had your fun already, baby?” Steve teases and clicks his tongue. “I did suggest fifteen minutes. It’s you who insisted on twenty, remember?”

“Uhhhh,” Eddie croaks, wriggling his hips again and slapping one palm several times against the mattress. “Ohhhh, holy ssshit. I regret everything.”

“No, you don’t.” Steve smirks.

“No, I don’t,” Eddie admits with a miserable chuckle and dramatically flops down on his face, ass in the air, letting out a long, frustrated growl muffled by the mattress, before pushing himself back to his heels.

Steve abandons the stupid premise of reading his magazine and just sits back, enjoying the view. He squeezes himself through his boxers; obviously, he’s not unaffected. His boyfriend looks like the ultimate fucking wet dream. There’s never a time Steve doesn’t find him the most beautiful and sexy person in the entire world, but this view, right here… this definitely takes the icing on the cake.

Steve can still hardly believe they got to this point, when Eddie would take the initiative and present his own fantasy for Steve to fulfill. No more shyness about it, just unconcealed arousal and eager submissiveness when they first started talking about this kind of scene, both equally horny by the time they finished merely discussing the details. Steve spent days figuring out the right kind of weave for this; then, he’d just have Eddie kneel on the bed, getting used to the position, checking every few minutes if his boyfriend was comfortable, gradually increasing the time he spent bound every night up to an hour; beyond that, Eddie’s muscles were starting to cramp up.

It took two weeks to bring this particular fantasy to life. But really, they have been working up to this kind of moment for much, much longer.

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#steddie #steddie fic #steddie smut #fanfic #misha-bawlins fanfic #good boy eddie my beloved