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#instead of fighting through burnout
bubacorn · 3 months
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hc: Vessel is bad at receiving compliments and being told that he is loved (hug inspired by this one, @ghxstly-death put it into words perfectly. thank you, Eden!🫂)
Thinking about Vessel who can't accept compliments, not because he doesn't believe them (that too), but because he'd heard them so many times in the past related to small, unimpressive things. Not 'I'm proud of you', just 'You did good', an automatic response to any and all achievements. He did good. He didn't know what 'good' meant, but apparently, he did that. He has no idea what was good about what he did, so he continues to push himself, to not be a disappointment. If he does good, then that should be enough, right?
He tries for great, for excellent, for something more, but he always gets 'good', unrelated to the effort and time he put into something. He knows he shouldn't wish for more specific compliments, or anything else, really. He should be grateful to be regarded. Everyone around him is so busy, they can't possibly have time to listen to him talk about how in reality, he has no idea what he's doing. How things sometimes just click but he can't tell if what he did is actually worth anything or it was just pure luck. How he doubts himself at every step but learned to hide it, because he has to be good. And good means coping and dealing with things by himself and quietly, because then he will be told that he did good and who wouldn't want to be good?
Vessel who hears 'I love you' for the first time (said with actual love behind it for the very first time) in a really long time from II. He wouldn't tell the other that, but it's clear from the surprise and the hopeful longing in Vessel's eyes. His friend told him he loves him and he doesn't know what to do with that, so he hesitantly steps to him and begins to lift his arms in question. II's heart squeezes at his shyness, after all, the other has spent months alone in the manor, so it's understandable that he would have grown unaccustomed to touch. But then II has to pull Vessel against him, because the man sort of hovers his arms around his frame as if he doesn't know how to approach a hug. Like he isn't sure what is expected of him and what is too much.
Vessel is surprised when II squeezes around his torso, when he brings one arm around his shoulder and the other to his neck, trying to bring Vessel down towards him, like he wants to protect and shelter him. That's strange, but Vessel finds that his arms want to stay wrapped loosely around II a bit longer and just as he starts to pull away, II again says "I love you, Vessel", and Vessel's brain freezes. II squeezes him tighter and Vessel feels so warm and strangely loose (he's afraid he will unravel if he stays too close for too long) and small even though he towers over his friend. His friend who is now holding him and who apparently loves him.
The only thing in his mind stumbles from his tongue in the form of a quiet "Why?". He didn't do anything exceptional. He was showing II an arrangement and said he wasn't sure if it was any good, letting his fingers dance over the keys, feeling like he was stumbling through music. He felt like it captured that familiar insecurity, and he liked it and hoped II would like it, too. Even if it didn't make it into a song. Then II said he did like it, that it feels like Vessel is unsure but it gives the melody a unique flavor, and that Vessel was great for translating that feeling into music.
"'Why?' ?" II's answering question is filled with such disbelief that Vessel wants to hide. He said something inappropriate, something secret that had previously only been dwelling in his mind, in a dark corner, and now he feels exposed. Why did he even open his mouth? Not good. Definitely bad.
Vessel is slumping against II a bit, like he doesn't know how to hold himself upright anymore, like he needs support. II must feel it, because he's still holding him, and it's been minutes and Vessel tries to squirm away, to save any dignity he might still possess, and II lets him slip out of the embrace, but his arms linger like he doesn't want to let go of his friend. His friend who just blurted out the worst response to a confession of gentle affection. Vessel looks so worried when he catches II's gaze and he immediately averts his eyes and takes a few small steps back, unconsciously gravitating towards his piano for protection, a sense of safety.
"You're my friend, Vessel," II tries approaching the man with soft words, "You're kind and considerate and a damn good musician," Vessel stops backing away when the back of his legs hit the edge of his piano bench, but he's still looking at the floor, "You pour your heart into writing and playing and it's amazing to see. You're committed, but patient and you help me every time I need. Even when I'm too embarrassed to ask," II tilts his head and steps a bit closer to try and catch Vessel's gaze, "I know you don't see it and I'm sorry that you can't because it's true. I would never lie to you about this, Ves. I love you, you're my best friend," Vessel presses his lips together, so II adds, "Not just because we live in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. You're the best friend I've ever had. And I'm glad Sleep led me to you."
Vessel gives him a look that shows he tries really hard to believe him, and adds in such a low voice it's almost a whisper, "I love you, too," as if he's embarrassed to admit it. But it's not embarrassment, II realizes, it's disbelief, it's some sort of deep shame about needing someone else, of relying on anyone else but himself at all times. And it makes sense, considering Vessel's nature, but II could never put it all together, since large chunks of Vessel's past were unfamiliar to him. He could have guessed based on how the man acted, but he didn't want to assume anything. It felt disrespectful. Vessel would share if he wanted.
"And I'm really glad you found me," just a beat of silence, before he adds, in an even quieter tone, if that's possible, "And that you stayed," Vessel risks a bashful glance towards II, and sees him blink rapidly, shocked by the implication of the other's words, before he shakes himself and steps closer to Vessel. He searches his face for apprehension, but doesn't find any, so he gently puts his hands on Vessel's upper arms and sits him down on his bench. Before Vessel can react, II has his arms wrapped around him, one around his shoulder, and the other's hand cupping the back of his head and cradling it to his front.
"You're important to me, Ves. You're special and precious and I love you," II's fingers caress the man's shoulder and card through his hair, "I want you to know that I'm here for you any time, okay?" Vessel is still stunned and he's sure he's going catch on fire if he gets any warmer. II twists a lock of hair around his finger, "Okay?" Words form and die in Vessel's throat so he just nods, rapidly, almost hurriedly, and II lets out a small chuckle. "You're amazing, you know that?" he nuzzles into Vessel's hair for a moment to murmur, "And adorable," II sways with the man in his arms a little and Vessel is sure he will combust. His face is flaming against II's shirt and he tries to suppress the half grimace-half grin on his face and feels unreal. "C'mon. Tea break?" II smiles down at him and offers a hand. Vessel can stand on his own, but doesn't reject the offer. He likes the warmth of II's hand and he can always use the stability and the reminder of the other's presence. II soon replaces his hand with a mug of tea, but it's considerably colder to Vessel. The contrast is especially palpable when II brushes his knuckles against Vessel's as he's handing him his tea. The mug is warm, but II's skin is burning against his. But it's not bad. It's a good burn. It makes Vessel feel alive. Seen. Loved?
Vessel learns that he doesn't have to prove himself to other people to receive love. Love is not something that has to be earned in their home. Love is not a reward, not something that Vessel has to work for, then be disappointed that in the end, it isn't actually given to him. He tried being good in the past, being silent and keeping his head down and being a good kid, but the warmth and the unconditional love didn't come. He still tried, though, he always tried his best, but apparently that wasn't enough. Or there wasn't actually love at the end of that tunnel. It was just a play of light. But that would have been cruel and Vessel would like to think that people in his past weren't intentionally unkind to him (he won't admit the truth to himself for a while).
II often tells Vessel that he's proud of him. For speaking up. For telling him when he's having a bad day. For asking for distance when he needs it and closeness when he feels like he will drift away. For admitting to messing up, when he falls back into bad habits of self-destruction and isolation. For doing a grocery run by himself even though he goes home almost shaking and has to spend the next hours under a blanket on the couch, because it was simply too much. For crying when he talks about memories that he tried his hardest to forget but he just can't. For asking for help and letting II help him, even though it's hard. It's really hard, and Vessel apologizes for it, for being fucked-up and broken and damaged goods. For wasting II's time and being a burden, a needy, greedy thing. Wretched. Minus human.
But II tells him he loves him and that he could never be a burden. That he will always be worth it, he always has been, and that he's sorry that people in Vessel's past couldn't see it. Couldn't see him for all that he is. For the friend who pays attention to little details so he can show his friend how much he values him. For the guy who bakes his friend a complicated cake for his birthday because he off-handedly told him he can't even remember what it tasted like, even though it used to be his favorite. For the amazing composer who can capture emotions one doesn't realize one has. For the hard-working, curious kid who thought that being obedient and not questioning authority was the way to earn praise and affection. For the little boy who thought something was wrong with him, that he did or didn't do something and that is why he couldn't feel loved. For the child who cried and cried, silent and under the cover of the night, hoping that no one would hear (and secretly hoping that somebody would and they would come and save him from the gaping emptiness that made its home in his chest, way too big and scary for a boy that little). For the boy and then the man who couldn't cry anymore but thought that that is more than alright, at least he can finally keep it all inside. For the partner who allowed himself to be vulnerable with someone he trusted. For the partner who made sure his other knew he was always welcome, even though his brain sometimes tried to tell him otherwise. For the partner who grew comfortable with expressing casual affection so much that terms like 'darling' became second nature to him (and for the way he blushed when II told him that). For the man who learned to accept that it's okay to admit to not being okay, to need someone, to want to not feel alone, to feel cherished, to have his feelings validated. For the man who can tell his partner anything and does, because he knows he can speak his mind and that there will be someone who listens.
II wanted to see Vessel. Vessel let him. Even before he showed the uglier and less than perfect parts of himself, II loved him all the same. It was never about being 'good' and silent and compliant. Vessel is good. Vessel is not good. He's amazing. He's perfect. He's wonderful. He's cherished. He's incredible. He's valued. He's seen. He's listened to. He's heard. He's finally, finally loved. Has been for longer than he dared to think. Will soon be by more people than he thought possible.
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paisleywraith · 2 years
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He’s going to actually go insane before he gets that doctorate. 
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riverofrainbows · 2 years
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I wish i had been healthy when studying and done this properly. It's absolute hell trying to pick up the pieces for my big exam thats coming up, all the lectures I've never been to, all the exams the most i was able to study for was half assed so i still don't know the subject properly, the study notes and lecture notes that i never properly sorted after i got home and still fly around, almost impossible to decipher now. I had a chance to rewatch some of the lectures that were recorded for covid, but today for some reason I've been thrown out of the website again, and I haven't gotten even halfway through yet.
I've been going through all my study materials trying to sort them and prepare for the exam, and found subjects i have no memory of taking, meticulous flashcards i have no memory of making (nor of their content). I see mountains and mountains of evidence how bad i was doing all these years, and how much i tried despite, still.
And it makes me so sad, so Fucking sad. I am grieving all the time i struggled so hard and tried and tried my best, and it was a jangled mess i am trying to pick up now.
And i am angry because it's so much harder trying to study with no or lacking lecture notes, having to dig through the mess instead of just taking it out of a folder. It was hard then, and suffering back then still makes life harder for me now.
#own post#disability#grief#anger#i am doing better now not perfect but better and i think of all the lost potential too#i could have been very good ngl but instead i was struggling and kept failing tests and getting through with just the required points#and it makes me so angry because i do find it interesting and i can be brilliant at what interests me. remembering tiny details#i could have shone so bright but instead its all just struggling and then reliving that struggle while trying to pick up the damn pieces#and it makes me so sad for past me (who I can't even really remember) because he tried so hard and put in to much energy#like the amount of energy i used to have while severely ill is another thing because I don't have it anymore#i am doing better so i do have more energy available and it also takes less but i cannot imagine ever doing that again while suffering#i don't have the reserve anymore to do things while suffering. i used it all up#its all gone and when i look back its still Still such a mess#it makes me think 'and for what' because what am i even supposed to do with that#i used it all up just to survive and get by#all my reserve energy all of it#and when other look at it at what i achieved all they see is a failure. and i try not to do the same bc i was there i know why#but sometimes it does feel like that. sometimes it just frustrates me so much#I've gotten out of the depths of the severe burnout i was in after the last semester a few weeks ago and it's a lot to process#now that I'm not actively in survival mode anymore in active fight or flight over doing anything uni related#and i start to process all those emotions#i am proud of paar me and i feel so sorry for him#and for me
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13uswntimagines · 4 months
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Spiral (Alessia Russo X MMA!R)
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Request: Could you maybe do something where less isn’t around to help r through something and r is spiraling more and more while needing someone to bring her back. One of Alessia's teammates has to kind of shout at r and tell her to kneel or something for her to be grounded featuring Mary (and Lucy slightly)
Part of The come Down universe
Warming: D/s elements. Blood and violence (mentioned but nothing graphic- R punches a wall several times).
It was easy for people to believe that you had an easy life, filled with nothing more than champagne problems and affluenza. 
All they saw were the press conferences and interviews after fights where you were riding high on your success. They didn’t see the weeks where you trained upwards of 18 hours a day and ate so strictly that even your water content was measured. 
They didn’t see how difficult it was to balance your career and Alessia’s, and the weeks you sometimes went apart. 
They didn’t see the nagging injuries that followed you like old ghosts. 
And they thought the 1% of your life they saw was enough context for them to make assumptions about the rest of your life, including your relationship with your girlfriend. 
You had never been big on social media, but that didn’t mean you were entirely shielded from it. 
Especially not when the date for your title fight against Justin Gathje was announced. 
Dana wanted you to hype the fight, to make a comment about how wild Justin was in the cage, and how your far more technical style would be a good match. 
And you thought the spare moments you had sitting in Alessia’s national team cubby while she did her final lap around Wembley for the fans was the perfect moment. 
But as you flicked through your Twitter app, you, realized very quickly that it was a terrible idea. 
Justin had already commented on the fight and accompanied his post with pictures of you in the stands a Wembley dressed in your girlfriend's jersey and one of him sweating in the gym. 
I think a championship contender should at least be putting in the work instead of fucking off with a bitch who deserves better. #gonnasilencethegolddigger
You knew that it was a stupid post. It made no sense because the fight was 20 weeks away, and starting training camp now, three days post-fight, would only lead to burnout and injuries. 
You knew that it was completely untrue considering you had met Alessia at UNC where you had a nice wrestling scholarship and she had a soccer one. There had been no gold to dig. 
But that didn’t stop the general public from hopping on the hate train. 
There were thousands of replies, and mentions and posts clogging your feed about how undeserving you were. 
About how awful of a fighter you were. 
About how Alessia deserved someone who could support her. 
But it wasn’t the comments from the general public that bothered you. 
It was the ones from her former teammates that dug into your brain and stuck. 
Her own family didn’t want her so much they shipped her off to America, so it’s sad she’s dragged a stand-up baller like Lessie into her mess. She didn’t deserve her state championship either. #alwaysridingcoattails.
Her own family didn’t want her
Dragged Lessie into her mess
The words burned into your mind, so you saw them every time you closed your eyes, getting more and more bold each time the number of interactions went up. 
1000
15,000
300,000
2,000,000
You launched your phone across the room, uncaring how it smashed into a million pieces on the stone like it would smash the image on the screen. 
Like it would shatter the tweet and the shots coming from people who had never met you. 
Like it would change how right they were. 
You breathed in deeply, trying to quell the growing ache in your chest and soothe the feelings bubbling in your stomach. 
Alessia’s scent surrounded you, filling your lungs and coating all of your senses. It was normally like a balm on an open wound or ice for a burn, the remedy to your anxiety and a promise that she was there for you. 
That she would always be there. 
That promise was part of the reason your relationship took the dynamic it did. 
Except this time, her scent didn’t loosen the knot in your chest. 
It just reminded you how much you took from her. How much better off she would have been if you had never run into her at UNC. 
You shoved yourself out of Alessia’s locker, you didn’t deserve to sit in it and paced the small room. 
The walls felt like they were getting closer together, and the air felt too heavy. 
You couldn’t breathe.
You needed release. 
You paused at the far end of the room, staring at the white concrete. 
Your fist hit the cold concrete before you even thought about it, and you relished in the pressure of the hard surface on your exposed knuckles. It was more than when you hit pads, more than when you hit someone else. 
It was perfect. 
You did it again. 
You weren’t enough. You hadn’t been for your parents. You wouldn’t be enough for Alessia either. 
Your fist hit the wall again. 
That’s what everyone had been saying for months. That’s what your father told you when you tried to make amends. 
You could see how right they were. 
Stupid worthless 
You hit the wall again. 
How much better off they would be without you. 
“Y/n?”
You didn’t even blink at Ella’s voice. 
You weren’t good enough. How could you ever be?
You had been birthed by two drug addicts more interested in their own highs than in raising a child. Your neighborhood MMA gym was the only place you had ever found food and safety. How could you ever be enough for Alessia who had been raised by loving parents? Who didn’t have to scrape and claw for food scraps? 
Who didn’t crave the freedom you found in total violence. In the destruction of a human. 
In the destruction of herself. 
“Y/n stop,” 
Hands gripped your shoulder, trying to prevent your arm from moving as you launched it again at the slightly pink wall. 
It didn’t work. 
Your hand slammed into the wall again. 
It wasn’t enough. It didn’t hurt enough to ease the volcano in your chest. 
You needed more. 
“Y/n please,” 
Ella’s voice sounded very close to your ear and stinger arms wrapped around your stomach, trying to force you away.
A guttural sound left your lips as the arms were finally able to pull you away, and Lucy stepped between you and your only solace. 
You needed it. 
“Calm down,” Mary hissed, her arms tugging you again. 
You were too out of it to wonder when she had gotten there. 
“Go get Alessia,” Lucy said, looking over your shoulder towards who you assumed was Ella. “Now,” 
You fought against the arms restraining you. 
Keeping you from the only thing that would make the ripping feeling in your brain go quiet. 
The door slammed shut and you were forced back another step by strong arms. 
“Y/n you need to relax, you’re going to hurt yourself,” Lucy held her hands up as she took a step towards you like you were a wild animal. 
And you supposed you were. 
Wild and out of control. Spiraling into oblivion. 
Lucy Met Mary’s eyes when you fought harder in the keeper's hold, your eyes wildly flickering as your limbs flailed. 
This was well out of their ability to fix. 
“We have to do it,” Lucy said, and Mary instantly knew what she meant. 
Mary nodded once. 
She knew you better than Lucy did, so she knew it had to be her if they wanted it to work. 
It was the only thing she could think of to help you. 
The thing that Alessia would do for you 
They had only seen it happen once. 
It was the only time the keeper had seen your dynamic's heavier side. The only time Alessia looked truly dominant, and you looked submissive. 
Mary squared her shoulders, drawing up to her full height, picturing in her mind the way Alessia had touched you and the tone that she had used. Soft, but dripping in authority that had shocked Mary. 
She tried to remember the words your girlfriend had used, the way her fingers pressed perfectly into your skin to make you melt. 
She pulled away from you slightly, drawing her hand from your stomach to land heavily on the space where your shoulder met your neck. 
“Y/n,” She said mimicking the sheer dominance that Alessia’s voice held that night. “I think that’s enough darling. Kneel for me,” 
You froze. 
A shiver ran the full length of your spine at the familiar words, and your shoulders rolled like a physical weight had been added to them. 
You blinked as the order filtered through the fog in your brain, registering that though it was familiar, the voice that had given it was not. 
Her arm loosened around your middle as all of the fight left you, but she kept the grounding hand on your neck. 
You leaned into it, breathing in through your nose and very slowly releasing it through your clenched teeth. 
You sagged with each exhale, sinking very slowly until you were kneeling at Mary’s feet. 
Your head bowed, and you rested your hands palm up on your knees as another rattling breath left you, pressing back into the hand still on your neck like it was the only thing keeping you from floating away into oblivion.
Mary stood frozen, staring at you as you fixed your posture (Alessia hated it when you slouched) and all of the tension, her eyes darting up to meet Lucy’s. 
She hadn’t been sure that it would work. That you would listen to it because she wasn’t Alessia. But now that it had, she wasn’t sure what to do. 
She didn’t know what came next, or how to navigate it without crossing your boundaries. 
“Good job Y/n,” Lucy said, keeping her voice as soft as Mary’s. “We’re just going to stay here and calm down, alright?”
You let out another shuddering breath, more ripples quaking down your spine, and Mary very gently ran her thumb in circles at the back of your neck, hoping it would help to keep you settled. 
She knew it was the touch Alessia always took when you were anxious or nervous, but she was also very much aware that she was not Alessia. 
“And then we’ll get one of the trainers to look at your hand after Lessie gets here,” The defender continued, her eyes trained on where your jeans were slowly turning red with the blood from your hand. 
“But for now, we’re going to just stay right here,” Mary repeated, letting her thumb graze the nape of your neck. 
*******
“Less,” Ella’s voice cut through the sounds of the fans calling for Alessia’s attention, the panic in it drawing the strikers eyes before the midfielder skidded to a stop beside her. 
“What’s happened?” Alessia asked, passing the shirt she was signing back to the young girl who had handed it to her. 
“Y/n,” Ella panted, her eyes wide, afraid despite the cameras pointed their way. “I’ve never seen her like that,” 
Alessia frowned, turning away from the fans and wrapping an arm around Ella’s shoulder to give them some semblance of privacy. 
“Seen her like what?” She asked, her tone low with something… darker lingering under the surface. 
Ella shook her head, unable to describe it with words. “I need you to come, quickly,” 
“Ok,” Alessia agreed, following after the midfielder with little question. 
She knew that whatever had happened had to be bad to cause that look. To have Ella say it in front of the fans. 
Ella sprinted back towards the tunnel with Alessia on her heels, weaving between equipment people, and players until they reached the locker room. 
Leah stood outside the door, directing players to the other showers. 
Alessia’s frown deepened. “What’s going on?”
“We thought a smaller audience would be better,” Leah murmured, stepping aside for them. “Looks pretty brutal mate,” 
Ella patted her back and she stepped towards the door, steeling herself for whatever was inside as she pressed it open. 
Her breath caught in her chest as she took in the scene in front of her. 
It looked like something out of a slasher film. 
Red covered one of the white stone walls, dripping onto the gray floor in dime-sized circles to where you were sitting. No kneeling between Mary and Lucy, a dark patch forming from where it had soaked into your jeans. 
Her jaw clenched at your position. 
It was hard for people to understand but kneeling was something… intimate between the two of you. It was a show of the trust that you had for her to take care of you. A way to reinforce the power dynamic in your relationship. 
It had taken you a long time to feel comfortable enough to let yourself be vulnerable enough to kneel for her, and she treasured how willing you were now. How you seemed to… crave the position. 
For someone else to put you there didn’t sit well with her. 
Neither did the way Mary’s hand was holding the back of your neck. 
“What happened?” She grit out, her eyes flitting between your form and the two women on your either side. 
“we’re not entirely sure. We just caught the tail end,” Mary murmured, her thumb rubbing soothing circles onto your skin. 
Your eyes were closed, but Alessia could see the tension in your posture. She could see how on edge you were. 
How close you were to subspace. 
She snooker her head. “And you thought that this was the solution?”
She wanted to scream at her friends. To give them a lecture about consent and safety and trust (even though you wouldn’t be kneeling for them if you didn’t trust them). 
They didn’t know your boundaries. This hadn’t been discussed. What if it went wrong and they didn’t recognize the signs of you passing the point of consent? 
She knew you often leaned into the dynamic you shared to calm down. To let go, but she knew your limits. She knew your safe word. 
She knew all of the signs to look for, because you craved pain when you felt unstable (a habit that had lingered from your childhood), and you wouldn’t always vocalize your limits. 
She worried how far backward you would slip after this. 
“It was the only way I could think of to get her to calm down. She wasn’t responding to anything else Less,” Mary explained, her voice very soft and gentle. “I tried to do exactly what you do,” 
“We also stayed away from honorifics,” Lucy added. “We knew we were overstepping a bit as it was and didn’t want to push further than we had to,” 
Alessia wanted to snort that overstepping was an understatement, but she didn’t. 
That wouldn’t help you. 
Avoiding honorifics had been a very thoughtful touch. 
That would have sent you careening into sub-space, and she doubted either of them could have handled that. 
“Alright,” She said, taking a deep breath. 
She would need to talk to them later, but right now, her priority was you. 
And getting to the bottom of what happened. 
Of what changed in the 10 minutes you had been left alone. 
She settled herself on the bench, placing her sweatshirt on the ground near her feet to act as a cushion for you, and taking a deep calming breath before she let her eyes fall on you. 
“Babygirl,” Her voice came out stern, but not angry, and for the first time, you raised your gaze from the floor to meet hers. “Come here,” 
She gestured towards the spot at her feet, and without hesitating, you carefully pulled out of Mary’s grasp and crawled to her. 
Her fingers weaved through your hair, and she guided you to rest your cheek on her thigh once you settled on the sweatshirt. “What’s going on sweet one? Talk to me,”
You nuzzled into the soft skin of her leg as her nails dragged against your scalp, trying to remember how to speak. 
How to form words that would accurately describe the tearing feeling in your chest. 
“Not enough,”
The words were horse as they left your lips, heavy and wet like they had been pulled from the depths of your soul. 
Alessia hummed, her nails digging more deeply into your hair. “What’s not enough?”
Your breath rattled in your chest, shaking through you to your core. 
At the depths of it, you were not enough. 
You would never be enough. 
“I’ll go get a doc,” Lucy murmured before you heard the sound of the door. 
“What is not enough,” Alessia asked again, more insistent. 
“I’m not enough, Miss,” You said, your voice barely above a whisper. 
Alessia tutted. “We both know that’s not true,” 
You groaned. 
It was true. The whole internet believed it. 
“It is,” You insisted, pulling away from her warm hold to meet her eyes. “Everyone believes it,” 
“Who is everyone?” Alessia pressed, staying calm and even. Being your stability. 
“I think this has something to do with it,” Mary said, and your eyes snapped to her, where she was holding your demolished phone, the tweets still lighting up the screen. 
You had forgotten she was still here. 
“What is it?” 
Alessia held her free hand out for it, using the other to settle you back against her thigh. 
“Bullshit,” Mary answered, passing the phone to your dominant, moving slowly around you, like she was afraid to spook you. 
Alessia hummed, flicking through the images on your cracked screen. 
The room was silent as she read the words that had set you off, and you let your eyes slide closed, enjoying her closeness. 
Enjoying the ability to let go, and trust that she would take care of it. 
You ignored the sound of the door opening again, and feet approaching you and Alessia. You didn’t care if people saw you. You knew that she would defend you if you needed it. 
“Sweet girl,” Alessia said, fingers tightening in your hair, and you opened your eyes to meet hers over the phone. “Let them look at your hands,” 
Your eyes flickered towards the medics, kneeling in front of you, Lucy standing protectively behind them with Mary. 
You hummed, slowly lifting your dominant hand and holding it out towards the medic. 
He took it gently between his own and began to examine it with a frown. 
“I think she needs x-rays,” He said, looking over you towards Alessia who was still scrolling through your feed. “And I can wrap it after that,” 
“Alright,” She said, putting your phone down. “We’ll meet you in the training room in just a moment. Can you three give us a second?”
The medic nodded, retreating with Mary and Lucy.
“Take your time,” Mary paused in the doorway. “Me and Luce will get cleaned up and meet you,” 
Alessia let out a sound of agreement. 
She waited for the door to close before she very gently pulled you up from your knees and into her lap. 
You rested your cheek on her chest, tucking your nose into her still-sweaty jersey. 
This time her scent didn’t set you on edge. It joined the feeling of her warm arms wrapped around you and her chin on your head, making you feel safe and warm and cared for, even when you didn’t think you deserved it. 
“You know all of those tweets are bullshit right?” She asked after your breathing had evened out. “They’re just trying to get under your skin,”
You made a low noise, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. 
“You are deserving because you are amazing. You are an incredible fighter, and a good human despite the shit hand you were dealt,” She continued. “I love you, and I will always be here for you. Whether you are the world champion, or we’re eating spam and crackers on my bedroom floor,” 
Your eyes slid closed and you buried your face in her chest, your lips lifting just a bit at the mention of your favorite snack from college. 
From when you were too broke to afford dinner on the weekends. 
It didn’t entirely fix the crumbling feeling that accompanied each beat of your heart, but her words were like a tether holding you to reality. 
She had loved you before you were a UFC star and she was England's Star Girl, and she would love you after. 
That was all that mattered. 
She squeezed you tightly and kissed your head. “Let’s go get your hands fixed and then we can go back to the hotel and watch Love Island before bed, alright?”
You hummed again. 
You knew a talk about your coping mechanism, about the wall you had destroyed, would also be included after you had come down. 
But you didn’t mind. 
You and Alessia would get through it. Together. 
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ilypaigebuckets · 7 days
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kate martin with a nerd gf hcs?
Kate x Nerdy Gf Hcs
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figured out how to add pictures 🥳
- you wouldn’t classify yourself as a nerd, just someone who is really big on their education
- kate first met you in the library where she saw you studying
- she thought you were the prettiest girl in the entire world, so she wanted to shoot her shot (get it bc basketball)
- she asked to sit next to you “hey is this seat taken”
- you were kind of oblivious to her flirting at first “no? but there’s like dozens of other places to sit you don’t have to sit by me”
- everytime she goes to the library (which becomes more and more frequently thanks to you) she sits next to you
- she eventually gets the courage to ask you out and you guys go on a cute little coffee date
- after you’ve been dating for a while you start attending her basketball practices and just study there instead of the library
- she teases you that it’s because you miss her but you insist it’s because the gymnasium is closer to kate’s place than the library is
- oh yeah you definitely stay over at her place most nights
- she lets you study at her coffee table/on her couch
- she holds you while you study and makes sure you have everything you need
- you need water? she’s on it. head scratches to ‘help you concentrate’? her fingers are already making their way to your scalp.
- you definitely have deal with burnouts and kate helps you through them
- she starts putting time limits on your study time, so you have time to yourself for self care, your relationship, and just taking care of other things
- she helps you study and quizzes you with your flash cards
- “ok baby what is the polytomic ion for sulfate?” “S04 to the negative second power?” “LETS GO THATS MY SMART GIRL”
- will listen to you rant about your stressing assignments
- “kate it just doesn’t make sense at all. i don’t get why he would give us only a week to write that paper” and she just kisses your forehead and holds you tight like “shhh i know baby gorgeous but you’re my smart cookie”
- one time you missed her game due to a project deadline and her feelings were really hurt
- it caused a huge fight that ended with you both crying, you promising to prioritize her more just like she does you
- that fight really opened your eyes so now you try to cherish your time with kate more
not really but just in case nsfw 😢
- when she’s quizzing you and you get an answer right, she’ll try to reward you
- sometimes you don’t let her, insisting that you need more time to study and do assignments or catch up on reading
- other times you take it as a much needed break and just let her help you relax
that’s all 🤍 i hope you like this!!!
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enavstars · 4 months
Note
May you bliss us with your angst ninja headcanons?
mainly kai pls
Sorry for the delay. You asked mostly for Kai's so I delivered. If anyone wants more hcs about the others I can work on it some time in the future (I also have more of Kai).
Now the hcs:
• All the ninja have PTSD from everything they’ve been through
• And abandonment issues
• Cole has an eating disorder and eats when he’s stressed, this is one of the reasons he is very insecure of his weight. People online poke at him for it
• Jay's terrified of losing his loved ones again because of him. That is another reason why he went absolutely crazy post Seabound, as he thinks it was his fault Nya had to resort to sacrificing herself
• He used to be bullied for living in a junkyard before becoming a ninja and that's why he was ashamed of it
• Zane always shoves down everything wrong that happens to him (e.g being the Ice Emperor for way too long to be ok about it) because he puts the team and their needs first.
• Nya has nightmares from the time she died in skybound but doesn't tell anyone.
• She had to keep her work and love life secret from her brother for fear that he would shut her down to protect her. Her fear persisted well into s1 and that's why she felt she had to hide Samurai X even from Kai
• Lloyd still admires his uncle despite his obsession with the green ninja (and all the neglect that came with it) because he's the only relative that actually took him in
• All of the ninja have at some point hidden an injury at least once. But Kai and Nya are the ones that do it more often (Nya specially when she was samurai X), and know how to treat mild wounds because of it.
• Kai and Nya do physical activities when they’re stressed or have emotions they don’t want to process. They can do their thing like Kai working in the forge and Nya doing mechanics but they usually train, however they can go on for hours (Kai has passed out a few times)
• Kai and Zane have a very poor sense of self. Zane’s comes from him not valuing his life and thinking he’s expendable since he can be rebuilt, ignoring all the trauma that comes from getting severely hurt or “dying”. Kai has problems seeing his worth as a human being because he’s never lived for himself; everything he does is for someone else and so he thinks his value resides in what he can do for other people. 
• Kai is terrified of the idea of being alone, it’s his worst fear.
• He has THE WORST coping mechanisms and Zane is confused on how his body was able to go through all of them (Alcoholism, illegal fights, smoking…)
• Kai is an insomniac, he barely sleeps most nights and instead just waits until he passes out (He has very deep eyebags because of it but hides them with make up, covering his freckles too). He sometimes bumps into some other ninja at night since they all have fucked up sleep schedules. 
• Lloyd also has a lot of problems sleeping because of nightmares and goes to Kai or Nya’s room where he feels safer (mostly into Kai’s). Sometimes they stay up at night chilling or they try to sleep. In those cases the nights with Lloyd are the ones where Kai sleeps the most because he feels safer too.
• Kai has chronic depression because of his fucked up childhood
• Lloyd thought he had depression too for a while but it turned out to be autistic burnout because of the stress of being the green ninja. But he can’t properly rest or heal from the burnout so he’s exhausted most of the time.
• When he’s stressed Kai forgets to eat and can go days with very little food because he’s used to it from being poor in his childhood.
• Genuinely forgot what it feels like to be a kid and have no responsibilities so it’s his personal mission to not let that happen to Lloyd. Kai would be devastated if Lloyd ended up like him.
• Kai sometimes feels insecure about his face scars and contemplates hiding them with make up.
• Kai’s touch starved but terrified of letting people in.
• He hides his negative emotions as anger and when the others try to reach out to him he pushes them away by getting angry at them until it's mutual and they leave him alone.
• Never told the others about what he did after Zane’s “death”. He fixed himself up, alone.
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newtsoda · 1 year
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When school is torture...
A comic about autism and “school avoidance”.
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Commence Alt Text:
[PAGE 1]
Title: 'It's Not School Avoidance – Trauma, Burnout and PTSD in the Education System'. The first panel shows a woman, her face veiled in shadow and surrounded by a thicket of thorns. She looks alien, with pointed ears and cat-like eyes. The second panel shows her drowning, her hand grasping at the air. The next panel shows ghost-like arms twisting around her. The speech bubbles read: When I was a kid, school was the stuff of nightmares. An intense and overwhelming environment, overstimulating and demanding, and entirely unforgiving. It's where I learned to mask and how to lie about all manner of things. I faked so many illnesses just so I could have the break I couldn't ask for. All so that I could somehow stay afloat in a system that did not recognise my needs. Neurotypicals don't understand just how much school is not designed for people who are not like them. Nor do they understand what it's like when you have to return to the place that is hurting you, day after day after day.
[Page 2]
The woman lies with her head on a pillow, staring wide-eyed at the reader. Thorns creep around the edges of the frame. The text reads: It's nearly twenty years later, and I still have the nightmares. Not the same vague dreams about not doing my homework everyone gets, but vivid night terrors that revolve around school and the things it made me feel. I've been told it's a symptom of CPTSD. The second panel shows a dagger with thorns wrapped around it as it is slowly dragged into their midst. The text reads: Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder develops over a series of prolonged traumatic events. A disturbingly high number of autistic adults go on to develop it and can trace the root of their trauma back to the torturous experiences of their school years. So, I guess it's safe to say I'm not alone. But what's worse: It's still happening today.
[Page 3]
A girl is at the centre of the page, tears streaming down her face as scissors cut through her wings. Blood drips down the page. Thorns creep towards her. Another panel shows the woman's back with the shredded remnants of her own cut wings. The text reads:  Autistic children are being dragged through a grim education system that does not get their needs, quietly suffering. Parents are denied support if their child makes good grades or is quiet in class, because all is well. But the school doesn't see the tears and fights getting to the gates in the morning. Or the meltdowns/shutdowns as soon as the child gets home. It doesn't matter what's happening to their mental health. That a bubbly, happy child who loved to learn has turned into a despondent, empty shell of their former self. Above all else, school emphasises attendance rates. As long as that child is still showing up every day, it's seen as a success, no matter the cost—and the cost, sadly, is often steep for people like us.
[Page 4]
The girl and the woman are wrapped in a towering mass of thorns. Swords jut from the wounded woman's chest while she looks down at the girl who reaches for a hand trying to rescue her from her plight. The text reads: “Your child just needs to develop more resilience.” An infamous line that keeps rearing its ugly head. It comes from a place of ignorance, from people who have no idea how resilient these young people already are from living in a world not designed for their neurotype. But what can parents do? They're witnessing the damage forced classroom time is doing to their children, seeing it destroy them, but feel powerless to help. Keeping them home for recovery results in fines, warnings, and intimidation tactics. Seeing no other way out, some parents are forced to take their child out of school for good, opting for home schooling instead. They report needing years to repair the damage done to their child's mental health.
[Page 5]
The woman is seen healing the girl's back. Tiny wings sprout where hers were cut. The text reads: Homeschooling can allow parents to slowly build their children back up, coaxing them back to their former selves. But not everybody has the means to homeschool, and while it should always be a choice, it should never be one forced by desperation. The next panel shows the woman's own shredded wings. The final one shows her defending her child. Text: This whole thing is excruciating for autistic parents who experienced it all themselves while growing up and know exactly the damage that is being done, yet find themselves unable to protect their child from suffering the same fate. I want to be a parent one day, but the thought of school already fills me with dread. I want my child to benefit from a well-rounded education without paying the steep mental health price I had to pay. It shouldn't be too much to ask! And yet, I've fully prepared myself for the battles I'll have to fight.
[Page 6]
The page shows the woman twirling the girl around while she holds her hands and the girl flies with her new, full-grown wings. The woman's wings are still shredded, but she smiles knowing that she was able to help her daughter. The text reads: I want to raise the next generation of autistic people unburdened by school trauma or CPTSD. We need more autistic-friendly options, and lockdown and the pandemic showed that it's possible!  We need flexible schooling, less classroom time, more opportunities to do schoolwork from home, and low intensity classrooms for children who don't have parents who can support learning from home. Allow for recovery time and stop penalising low attendance rates! We want the education system to recognise the damage it's doing to young people and believe parents when they plead for support. There is more than one way to achieve learning outcomes, and we deserve a system that works for us.
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yourlocaltreesimp · 6 months
Text
All Chained Up
ACU masterlist
Last Chapter (n/a) ੈ✩‧₊˚ Next chapter
Tw: None
Chapter 1: Days drift past
At the beginning of every good story, there’s two key things. The first being nothing, the way of simplistic sleepy life that days drift past in a haze. Small things like running around with your friends as children, staining your pants with grass as you tumble through weedy fields or stacks of work and the cramp in your wrist as you write… minute things that fill up time. But then comes something that disrupts the simplicity. Something that holds your comfort captive. It hangs over the characters in whatever book read or game played until the issue is resolved with a fitting amount of fighting. You supposed your life was much the same, at least half of it. Days slipped past your fingers in paperwork and assignments, unable to break from the chains you found yourself wrapped in. Bills needed to be paid and there were fewer ways to do that. At some point, you stopped waiting for something to change. You stopped waiting for some villain to make themselves known. You stopped waiting for your story to begin. The tired sigh that racked your body was one you were well acquainted with. The cycle of burnout and exhaustion never truly left- if there was anything hanging over your head, it’d be that, not some petty villain. The thought almost made you laugh, the exhale you let out amused. You got into bed, knowing that the next day you’d be met with the same things and the same people. The same lines and patterns of your days. You always felt out of place, like some bird trapped in a cage, that you were one of a kind. But surely if you had that thought, you couldn’t be that different… but that nagging feeling gnawed at your ribs like carnal fear. Something you’d forgotten- something you yourself couldn’t rectify.
You were not met with your bedroom when you woke up. In fact, you weren’t sure if you were met with much of anything. The world before you was blank and cool. An endless expanse of darkness that nothing could cut through. Your joints were stiff as you moved them, grasping at the empty space in front of you.
“What?” Your voice was quiet, as if the sound did not reflect. It felt like you were moving through water to look around you, resistance meeting your movements. You searched for anything aside from yourself, but when you turned, you weren’t met with much. More darkness and a small ball of light, no larger than a marble, dimly glowing. It hummed quietly when you held it in your hands, something familiar that you couldn’t quite recall. But you weren’t given the time to consider it. Instead, you heard voices. Small whispering chitters- overlapping one another in a wave of sound you couldn’t decipher.
“They’re here! I cant bel- We’ve missed you. W- You won’t leave again wil- The King. Get the King.” The voices cut after the final utter, and you were left with far more questions than ideal. They hissed and whispered, so close to being legible and yet so muffled. The whispers only increased in frequency and volume until one cold voice cut across them all.
“Quiet.” His voice was that of such authority that you yourself felt small in comparison. It pierced through you, cracking your ribs and heading straight to where you were most vulnerable. His voice crackled like static, something so unnatural. The symphony of little voices fell quiet as asked. You turned to face this man, the one who they called ‘the King’. His hair was a snow white fluffy as tufts of it brushed past his cheekbones, skin that of a pale grey. His face was sharp, as if carved from marble, perfect and smooth. His eyes were what caught you. For they held no sclera and were instead glowing vats of red. The kind that put roses to shame for their redness, and yet were just as captivating. He examined you as you did him, though his expression was that of utter reverence, as though he was looking at god themself. The sharpness you saw softened, his lips parting and angular eyebrows furrowing in something of concern. He stepped forward but you stepped back.
“It really is you.” His voice no longer hissed, instead it was clear and quiet- a secret shared between the two of you. You and this man you did not know. You and this man who has chosen to show himself as a threat.
This man who called out to you so wholly that it was terrifying. They say animals will most often not understand nor recognize themselves when met with a reflection, so perhaps this was the inverse.
“You’ve returned to me” He sounds relieved, albeit crazed. The glint in his eyes the same as an addict awaiting their next hit, and you fear he’s found it in you.
“What do you…” Your voice fails you and you trail off, caught off guard as he takes another step forward.
“Oh my dearest… You can’t have forgotten me, can you?” He smirks, his voice curling in a way that has you questioning if he was taunting you. But the amusement fades when his examination sees that you do not look upon him with the same familiarity. You’re scared. A deer caught in a trap with no way to escape, only to await the inevitable. “No matter. You will remember soon.” He returns to half talking to himself and you, nodding to comfort himself. He fiddles with something in his hands, marbles, you think. They faintly glow as he rolls them from palm to palm with a stretching smile, baring his teeth. They vary in colour slightly, from magenta, to lime, to cerulean, each humming a slightly different tune, winding to make a harmony. You count 9 marbles, each clearly meant to mean more than what they currently are… but the number holds no significance.
“I kept them safe for you my dear… But I will admit I've had my fun. Don’t fret, I haven't caused too much harm… yet.” He smiles, a sly grin as he holds them out to you, along with your own small one you disregarded until now. And as they pile into your hand, you feel you slip past yourself, and away from your own body.
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asgardian--angels · 2 months
Text
Talking on the phone with my mom I finally broke down and cried thoroughly about the cancellation. I think I'd been holding it in for the last two days, or two months. And honestly I've been wondering all along why this show means so much to me. I am not queer, I am not neurodivergent, I am not POC or disabled or any of the groups that this show has been so important for in terms of representation and being treated with respect and dignity. I understand and completely empathize with all of you, and fight for this show and your rights worldwide alongside you, but it still left me wondering why I myself have latched onto Our Flag Means Death. I suppose part of it is that despite being white and cishet and the privileges that have always come with that, I have been treated like an outsider and ostracized my entire childhood and teenage years, for being ugly and having "disgusting" interests (primarily liking insects, reptiles, other creepy-crawlies - aka the thing I literally do for my career now). I was bullied relentlessly from preschool through early college and became a very lonely introverted person - I still am. Undoubtedly Our Flag Means Death gave me renewed hope that I haven't missed some key window for finding love or relationships of any kind that matter, as I sit here typing this at age 28 having never dated anyone.
But it had to be more than that. And with everything that's happened the past couple of months, and the last few days, I think it finally clicked for me.
Followers of my blog may or may not know that I am a conservation biologist, or pollinator ecologist, whichever hat fits best on a given day, they're quite close. I don't make many original posts like this anymore on here because my job is so busy. Basically, I do a variety of things - academic research, habitat management & restoration, and public outreach - to try and preserve biodiversity and ecosystems on our planet. I'm just going to say it: it's a thankless job. Nothing we do ever feels like it's enough, and burnout is common in our field because we sit with the guilt of feeling like we are the only thing between survival and utter destruction of planet Earth, and work ourselves to exhaustion. It's one of those jobs where your work is your life, and your passion is your work, and it's inseparable from who you are on a molecular level. We are often faced, on a large scale, with hostility, from people that don't believe in science and are more than happy to pull a shotgun on us, or rich old men in power who are content to watch the world burn for another penny in their bank account. There are days when sometimes it sinks in just how bad things are, and it's terrifying, and I feel like we will never be able to do enough, to change enough, before it gets catastrophic. It's paralyzing.
My ability to do my job is dependent on hope. Unwavering, unrelenting hope. Hope beyond hope. We have to believe what we're doing matters, otherwise we'd fall down and never get back up again. I'm no big-shot, I give talks to a few hundred people at a time, and make urban pollinator habitat on a local scale. Is any of that going to make a difference compared to the ramifications of a single oil mogul deciding to cut corners and cause an oil spill that kills millions of seabirds and damages ocean food chains for decades to come? If people in my field let thoughts like that linger, we'd be paralyzed to inaction. I have to hope that the people I teach choose to do something good with that knowledge, and go on to inspire others, or that the patch of habitat I make allows a declining species to maintain a foothold instead of going locally extinct. You just have to keep going.
And Our Flag Means Death got wrapped up in that for me. The Stede Bonnet effect, if you will. He set out to do pirating differently, treating his crew with respect and helping them grow. In return, they internalized that mindset, and it spread to how they interacted with others. It changed the trajectory of individual lives, and also at least began to change how the society of pirates operated as a whole. It was a beacon of hope that choosing small acts of kindness did matter, even if you yourself could not see the ripples it made. It renewed my faith that love persevered and would win. That we could all make life a little better for each other and ourselves through kindness, compassion, forgiveness, and mutual support. I think a good chunk of that is from Taika - these are running themes in his projects, and his films move me deeply for that. This show became in some, perhaps subconscious way, a source of strength for me to keep putting myself out there in my line of work to do whatever I was capable of to help the cause.
The cancellation was devastating, but the second cancellation (turbohell cancelation?) was even more so. Because now it's so clear that this is largely the work of David Zaslav and the regime he's built. It's petty, it's greedy, and more than anything, it's cruel. Indifferently, indiscriminately cruel, when one person at the top can have such power to make or break the lives of thousands, millions, beneath them, and though it would have been barely a drop in the bucket, a hand wave, to renew our show or let it pass to another streamer, he actively chose to shackle it to this sinking Titanic of a company WBD has become. I have always operated on the belief that you can do anything if you work hard enough at it, and believed deep down that there was some order, some justice in the universe, atheist though I be. We as a fandom did everything we possibly could, we loved this show harder than anything. The numbers were there, the awards nominations were there, the critic praise was there, and we were loud and loyal every single day. I felt like we could do this - how could we not win when we've done so much, and the show deserves it so much? Surely cause and effect will prevail.
This fight seemed small, though really it wasn't; we fought for the right of artists and creators to make quality, original stories and have them told to their natural end, we fought for diversity representation to be more than a token character - OFMD raised the bar so much higher on all fronts, we fought to shed light on the chaos and impending collapse of this industry silencing art and exploiting writers, actors, and all manner of production workers. It was a small fight from the outside, one that I really felt we could win. And I put my heart and soul into it, because if we could win this, if we could save this simple, kind love story about two guys on a boat, then maybe there was hope for the bigger, badder stuff too. It shouldn't seem an insurmountable task for several thousand fans to convince a streaming service that they'd turn a tidy profit to give our show one more season.
Yet we lost - through no fault of our own. I am so proud of us. But that really struck deep for me. If one peabrained CEO of a media company wouldn't budge on greenlighting a show that was in his every best interest business-wise - perhaps enough to even save Max from going under in the not-too-distant future - my god, what hope was there for changing anything bigger? The 'real' problems of the world? When no amount of ethos, logos, or pathos can penetrate these men at the top, where's that hope to fight? Lately the world seems like it's just going belly up all over. If we gave everything we could, and it still wasn't enough - if it could never be enough - what hope is there? It's like chaining yourself to a tree and the bulldozer plowing right on ahead. And I think that broke something in me. It shook me to my foundations because it broke my rules of how things are supposed to work. We believed hard enough, we worked tirelessly, and we deserved it for how important this show was to so many people. And it didn't matter. Our best wasn't enough. And that caused an avalanche of all of the horrible, scary things piled on my shoulders - we're losing the Amazon rainforest too fast to save, climate change is going to turn the corn belt into a dustbowl by mid-century, a border wall is going to devastate imperiled wildlife in Texas, deforestation and hurricanes on songbird wintering grounds could lead to entire species extinctions, saltmarshes are our lifeline and they're shrinking and we're still building stupid concrete stormwalls, invasive diseases will completely alter the composition of our forests to be unrecognizable to our children, and if you don't make every slide of this powerpoint utterly perfect and you fail to convince every single person in attendance to get rid of their lawn then you've failed and the world is doomed.
I've struggled with being a perfectionist my whole life. This didn't help.
That's where I was a couple hours ago. But I took some deep breaths. I know the world isn't fair. But I really thought if we could win this one battle, then we could win the war.
But here's what I realized. Everything we did mattered. It mattered so much. Because there's the show, and then there's everything that was birthed out of that show. The community, so many of us around the world who have been uplifted by Our Flag Means Death in a real and lasting way that we will take with us and spread to affect those around us. The Stede Bonnet effect goes global. We raised thousands and thousands of dollars for charities around the world, real people whose lives have been improved, or maybe even saved, because of us and this silly pirate show. We brought a hell of a lot of attention to WBD and their shitty practices, keeping the momentum going in a way that I think is only going to build - and I sure hope it leads to Zaslav getting deposed. We have demanded more queer stories, more BIPOC stories, more disabled and autistic and middle-aged stories, stories with exquisite costumes and award-worthy wigs, dear lord, and we are being heard. We have expressed such love and support for the cast and crew, showing them that we appreciate their hard work and that we will be behind them in their future projects. So many of them have told us how the show and its fans have changed their lives. We convinced Rhys that his career isn't winding down but winding up, and to be unapologetic about his wonderful weirdness - we've proven to everyone through this show that your weirdness is what someone out there is going to love you for, not in spite of. We rallied to help writers and actors during the strikes in a way that was taken to heart and remembered. We have been out here talking it through as a crew, and turning poison into positivity, for over two years now, and that impact is permanent. They can cancel our show, they can try and slap copyright notices on our fan merch, and spew bullshit excuses about the numbers not being there. But Our Flag Means Death sparked a movement, the biggest pirate crew the world has ever seen, using our power for good.
We may not have any more new material for our show for a while, or ever. But I maintain hope that when the dust has settled and streaming has entered its 'new era' that they'll remember us and throw us a lifeline. Because hope is a part of my genetic makeup, and even in cancellation my hope has been renewed that the fight is worth fighting, that our individual choices of kindness are having an effect, and making the world a little easier to live in bit by bit. No one can take from us what we have built out of this show. And thanks to pirating, they can't take the actual show from us either. Despite this, no matter the outcome, I am so happy we got two seasons of this wonderful series. That was more than almost anyone expected. The story belongs to all of us, and it will always live on. We did not truly lose this battle, because in the process we gained more than we could have ever imagined. And I know there's still so much more to come. That gives me the strength to keep doing what I do, every day.
To me, Our Flag Means Hope.
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prismuffin · 7 days
Note
Omg! Okay so I just thought of the cuties thing in opinion! And wanted to do an ask of it!!
So, Male Reader is a shape-shifting alien kinda like Marsion's (Ex:Mee-gan ), but they can only be in a form that is not their true form for a limited time. Like 16hrs or something, after that, they shift back to their real form, unless they are in like fight or flight mode. After the time is up their behavior is that of an autistic that is burnout or overstimulated.
The MaleReader's true form basically looks very similar to an Earth's panther (i.e big cat) expect it has 4 sets of eyes and has a pure white coat with red patterns.
So! How would Dick, Jason, Tim, Wally and Conner (sperately) react to Alien MaleReader doing the cat behavior of 'if I fits, I sits' after seeking them out to take a nap and recharge?
Ex: Jason wanting some peace reading while laying on the couch, and reader just climbs his way up the back of the couch, to carefully place himself in between Jason's side and the couch cushions.
I'm working on some full fics but as to not let my blog seem dead I'll get this ask out the way! Anyways I think that-
Dick was in the kitchen making himself some lunch. For once, he decided to sit down at the table to eat instead of going to his room. He was sort of surprised to see you in your true form creeping your way over to him. He, at first, thought you wanted some of his food which he was not gonna give to you but instead you simply shrunk down underneath his chair. Squeezing yourself through the legs of the seat and resting your head on his foot. He was confused but just let it happen, sighing as he realized he was stuck with the cat curse and now he cant move because you're laying on him.
Jason would be sitting on the couch, finally glad to find a rare moment of quiet. He was simply relaxing until you came in, you were in your true form so he didn't think you'd be too much of a distraction. But he was wrong when you walked up to him and practically draped yourself across his lap, resting your head on a nearby pillow. You exhaled deeply and just closed your eyes, joining him in his relaxation session. He looked around at the rest of empty spaces on the couch before looking back at you, shaking his head with a slight smirk he just let you lay on him since you were warm.
Tim would probably be working, mumbling to himself about god knows what when you'd walked into his lab. He turned when he'd heard his door open and greeted you as he saw you enter, asking if you needed anything. You didn't answer and simply walked up to him, rubbing yourself against his legs with your tail held high before diving between his legs. Because of your size he had to steady himself as to not fall over. He let out a surprised gasp before trying to push you out but you wouldn't budge. When he did successfully get you out from underneath him you just followed him and did it again and again. If this was your way of getting him to stop overworking himself so much it is kind of working.
Wally had recently gotten a new package and boy was he happy, besides the fact that he had to assemble it himself. So he sat on the floor of his room trying to put together a gaming chair, screwing together two parts that look like they definitely shouldn't fit that way but that's besides the point. You'd entered his room and he'd given you a quick greeting before going back to building his chair. He'd heard some shuffling from where you were and turned to ask what you were doing only to see you fitting yourself within the large box that his chair had come in. You'd successfully smushed yourself down enough to fit perfectly in the box and he couldn't help but laugh at the sight. He took a picture, ignoring the soft glare you were giving him.
Conner would be resting and taking some time for himself not really doing much sadly. It was a rather boring day so he just sat himself on the couch, submitting to the mindless entertainment that the tv offers. Sooner or later you walked into the common room, spotting the kryptonian you moved over to him before shoving yourself under his legs. He was confused at first and asked what you were doing but didn't get much of a response besides a semi-sassy look as you just laid down and closed your eyes. He didn't move as your presence simply added to the comforting feeling of the couch especially since you were practically a warm footrest for him.
———
Directory
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sunshine-zenith · 5 months
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I got my niece some Encanto stuff for her birthday and one of them was a book with brief character bios that came with a bunch of small figures. The bio for Bruno, interestingly enough, says he was the “star” of the family once — it kinda makes him sound like a parallel to Isa instead of Mirabel
That’s a pretty cool idea, actually, and does kinda make sense — iirc the directors said Alma would depend on Bruno’s gift a lot because of the unpredictable trauma of losing Pedro. While his gift is overall different from Isa’s, it makes sense Alma would cling to their gifts the most and make them out to be Golden Children — Julieta’s gift is the most dependable so it’s easy to see it being taken for granted/her being way overworked like Luisa, and while Pepa’s gift is the most similar to Isa’s of the triplets (controlling the weather and therefore affecting the crops/growing and to a degree controlling plants themselves), Pepa has less control over her gift. Shoot, when you compare the way Alma talks to Pepa and the way she talks to Mirabel, it’s pretty similar (criticism, reprimanding, frustration)
Bruno’s gift theoretically offers a chance to prepare for/change the future while Isa’s gift is on the surface level so benign is can only mean stability — you don’t need flowers to fight a war, so if you’re given the ability to grow a bunch of flowers you probably don’t have to worry about losing everything and dying. You Can Keep Yourself Safe vs You Are Safe
The difference I guess is Julieta isn’t currently going through major burnout and ending overwhelmed with the need to protect her community and family, while Pepa isn’t afraid to snap back a bit (the advantage of age, having a solid support system in their loving spouses, having to cope with basically losing their brother, and growing up before Alma worried about losing their miracle might’ve contributed to them having a slightly better handle on their mental health and self worth)
Bruno, going off this random page in this random book for small kids, could be a dark-end parallel to Isa — someone who spent years of their life trying to do everything Alma and the town asked for to their own detriment. I can also remember a couple occasions where their body language also notably changes around/when thinking about Alma — Bruno shrinks down when he thinks about her, Isa straightened her posture, both looked apprehensive. Isa was going to waste her life marrying and having babies with a man she didn’t love and Bruno literally lost ten years of his life in the walls of Casita. The difference is Bruno’s once-praised gift eventually turned to something hated and he turned from the golden child to scapegoat, while Isa’s gift is largely unexplored by her to keep it palatable to help her avoid losing the golden child status
Or something idk y’all I’ve been babysitting all week and I’m Tired
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usopps-devotee · 1 year
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Not your fault
Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, someone PLEASE give luffy a hug he needs it
@zoro-kun because you love angst
@euphofic because you also love angst as well as luffy
W.c 1.1k
Part 2: Burnout
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It had been late and you were tired, unlike the rest of the crew who seemed to have boundless energy, you just wanted to sleep. Fight after fight, days with little to no rest, yet they still had the energy to party. You on the other hand went back to the ship to get some rest.
Luffy hadn't expected anyone to leave the bar, nor had he expected someone to come back to the ship when yall rented a room for the time spent on the island. He didn't hear the sound of you stepping on the deck of the sunny or walking up to him till it was too late to hide. Mortified as you stare at his tear-stained face, he's expecting you to tell him to suck it up, be a man, and so many other ways of telling him that his emotions made him weak.
Instead, you walk towards him slowly and carefully as if approaching a wild animal, holding your arms out for an embrace. You have no clue what's going through your captain's head, no one ever does, it's one of Luffy's many mysteries. All you know is he needs comfort, he looks like he wants to run, and knowing Luffy he just might. Seeing him hesitate you drop to the deck, not caring about the pain that shot through your already aching knees, arms still held out.
He's clinging to you in an instant, rubber arms pulling his body to yours, knocking the both of you over. His sniffles now sob as he cried into your chest, your shirt is immediately soaked in tears and snot but for the moment you could care less. You ran a hand through his hair, nails caressing his curls and scalp as his hat lay on the floor. Your other hand rubbed comforting circles in his back, slowly deviating in shape. You're startled by the small sorry that left your captain, you've never heard his voice so strained, so pitiful. Heart-shattering in a million pieces as you hold him tighter.
"It's okay Luffy, I promise. Let it all out, I'm here for you."
At that moment, whatever emotions he desperately tried to hold on to slipped through him like water. Years of guilt, anger, sadness, and who knows what else he may not have been able to express, are finally being felt. He's squeezing you so tightly in the back of your mind you're worried you might pop. You remind yourself that his ache is worse than yours, what you've injured for minutes, he's suppressed for years.
Eventually, Luffy lets you know what's on his mind, you're not even sure if he knows he's doing so. Babbling about his past and every mistake he's ever made, losing both sabo and ace, almost losing his crew, every time he's lost a fight, he even tells you about shanks losing his arm. All while blaming himself, blaming his incompetence, his arrogance, his weaknesses, his emotions, everything luffy perceived to be a flaw about himself. Choking on his own words while crying, between hiccups and gasping for air.
You had no clue he had been feeling this way, you doubted the rest of the crew did as well. Before this, you wouldn't have had a clue in the world about the stresses he holds on to. What thoughts keep him awake at night, what he fears more than anything else? Now more than ever you want to keep him safe from the rest of the world.
"If I wasn't so weak things would have turned out better."
"Luffy, it's not your fault. None of it is. Some of these things happened to you as a kid. Even with allies around that was stronger than you might have been at the time, not even they could have stopped what happened. It's not your fault."
Luffy finally lifted his head to look at you, he looked broken, the sight alone almost make you start to cry as well. Tears still flowing like rivers in Egypt, you're in denial about how much snot is covering the both of you. His eyes look over every detail of your face to look for a lie, to see the moment when the rug is pulled from under him and you become just as cold as everyone before. He doesn't expect you to place the straw hat back on his head and brush his hair out of his face, he doesn't expect you to pull him closer and kiss him on the forehead.
He's completely astonished when you tell him that it's okay. It's okay to be afraid sometimes, it's okay to have regrets, and it's okay to have made mistakes, and everyone does. He's never been able to let his guard down around anyone this much, he doesn't know what to do with all the trust he's placed in you. Luffy feels like he's been shattered and here you are picking up the pieces from so long ago.
Another sob racked through his body at your words, he's trembling like a leaf, and the only thing keeping him grounded is you. For years Luffy has been told by so many others his emotions are unacceptable. To hear you speak this truth so softly, so sweetly, he almost wants to deny it but he can't. He wants to cut in and say the things he could, or rather in his head, should have done. He wants to give a rebuttal to every claim that you've laid to rest. But he can't, he just can't.
There is logic to what you have to say, there's reasoning in your words he can't deny. If anything he's questioning all the others who told him not to cry, not to feel, not to express or let anything out. He's doubting what he's been taught, parts of him wonder what other lies he's been told, he'll have to ask you one day.
Slowly but surely he calms down, sniffling as he tries to catch his breath. Taking the time while he's off of your chest, you removed the soaked shirt, wiping away the rest of the tears and snot covering his face. "Why don't we get something to eat hmm? I'm sure the walk and some good food will help." He nods hesitantly, despite his lack of movement. You toss the shirt aside to worry about it later. For now, you're worried about the fact that Luffy's eyes had yet to leave the ground, and when they do he ask you a question that you could never deny.
"Can you hold me for just a little longer?"
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mondaymelon · 6 months
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𖥔 ݁ ˖⩇⩇:⩇𝟦.𖥔 ݁ ˖
⤷ a halloween event hosted by @mondaymelon !!
prev.
taglist: @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @silaswritesthings, @neigesprincess, @mintydump, @kaeffeinee, @scaranaris-lil-niko, @yuraasia, @chiyoso !! last trial will be posted tomorrow!! ending on nov 1 (this may be a lie because my plot has SOOO much in store for you guys... i want to make this like a i2109320983902 part series) but that was my bad im so sorry about that :( writing burnout is not completely over
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I don’t want to risk it. No, I can’t. He… I need to know more about it. About him. He said he helped me.
“No, I can’t. I can’t leave you here.” You shook your head frantically, feeling your breath quicken as their eyes, red, red, eyes, all turned to stare at you, tracking your every movement with a gaze too sharp to be human.  Xiao’s eyes widened, his pupils dilating as he slowly opened his mouth to speak. Even Wanderer had paused his ridicule, instead choosing to transfix his eyes on you with a manic smile that was growing on his lips. All of a sudden, the tentative expression on Venti’s bursted into a close-eyed grin.
“Hahaha! Oh, we’ve found ourselves an interesting human this time!” Venti laughed and let you down with a fluid motion of his arms, almost like he was putting on a show for the rest of them to see. “To think you’d value his life over your own, I can’t tell if your being suicidal or just plain stupid!” His voice sounded so delighted it was hard to tell if there was any truth in it.
“This…” Wanderer’s eyes were round, and his purple eyes that glinted with red quivered. His voice almost held a tone of reverence, slightly shaking as he whisper-spoke, his expression one that looked like it could fall apart at any moment. “Just who are you?”
“I’m… I’m sorry?” You flinched and shied from his gaze, only for Venti to pull you closer with his hands around your waist. It was only an instant, but in that moment, Wanderer’s face contorted into one of pure rage. There was a gust of wind, and suddenly, the man before you was held into the air, a hand gripped around his throat, the fingers digging into his pale skin.
Venti coughed out a laugh. “Ah, ho…honestly, we should’ve gone back to the manor when we had the chance-” Xiao propelled himself forward, gaze scattered as he impaled his spear into the ground where Wanderer had been standing seconds before. The twin-braided man fell to the ground, clutching his throat with a wounded smile. “So aggressive, and for what?”
“Wanderer.” Heizou’s chiding voice came in once more as he stepped forward, adjusting the gloves on his hands. “You know what we came here to do. We have a task to complete, let’s not forget about that.” He sighed, giving a loose shrug of his shoulders. “Although, I suppose if a fight is impossible to be avoided…” Before his mouth could even close, he launched himself and drove his fist through Xiao’s stomach, setting the leaves in the area dancing upwards in a whirling gust. When the debris cleared, you saw that Xiao had managed to parry the sudden attack, his crossed arms guarding against the blow to his underside. 
“Sneaky bastard.” Xiao spat out the insult, his aureate eyes glimmering with anger. How come the smirk on the redhead's face seemed so familiar?
A quiet voice moved the clearing. “Heizou.” It was but one call of his name, yet the man had already bowed his head in silence. Striking blonde, golden hair fluttered in the breeze as a man stepped forward, twisting horns protruding from his head and spiraling towards the stars above. His gilded eyes glittered. 
“Yes, your eminence?” Heizou spoke in a revered tone, his entire body quivering. It was unnerving, seeing them all bow to the mysterious man who had appeared out of seemingly nowhere, like he had fabricated himself into this space with his pure willpower.
Wanderer had paused his seething, and now had his head bowed with the slightest ounce of reluctance. “I thought you were staying at the castle. There was no need to-”
“Silence.” His voice held the power of someone who had seen the collapse of a thousand universes. “What bad habits have you been picking up, to speak back to me like this?
“...My apologies.”
“I will be expecting a statement from you when we return. As for the intruders that have found themselves on our land… just what do you think you’re doing?” He turned his narrowed gaze to the three of you, where Xiao had found his place standing protectively before you. Mud was splattered across his refined clothing, yet it was a better sight than a mess of crimson that could’ve been.
“Traveler.” He spoke cautiously, his head lowered a fraction. “We came to retrieve a matter, and we were just planning to leave. There’s no need for us to overextend our visit.”
“You are correct.” The one deemed "Traveler" nodded his head, and relief was visible on the vampire’s face. “I have more words to say, but there is little time to say them. Then, there is no need to stay here any further. Wanderer, Heizou.” He raised a gloved hand, gracefully grabbing hold of the empty air before him and then flicking his wrist downwards, tearing a rip through reality, a swirling expanse of glittering stars shining from outside the world’s walls. “Come.”
And so they did, but not without apparent reluctance. Wanderer hissed quietly, loud enough for your ears to pick up, “Hah, pigs who gorge themselves on blood may fail to notice what in front of them has long been swept away.” He gave one final glare as he stepped into the rift.
As their figures disappeared past the misty visage, Venti let out a joyous laugh, still massaging his throat with a rather pained grin. “Well, at least that’s done and over!”
“Venti, shut the fuck up. Don’t talk for the next two minutes, please. There are things to explain before the matters spiral out of control, and I cannot with you.”
The said male stuck out his tongue with a huff, before settling into a quieter air as he followed in suit with Xiao’s swift-paced walk. He pressed ahead as Xiao fell back, to your side, with eyes that had softened from concern. “You. I promised you answers. That… thing I did to you earlier. It was more or less a test, of sorts. You see…” He let out a sigh, like it was a tiring topic to discuss. Considering the seriousness of the situation, it likely was. “Among us vampires, there are tiers. We’re not all on the same level of status, and our rank is dependent on the purity of our blood. The blood we first received, as our origin calling. There are other methods in transforming one into a vampire aside from being birthed as one… but no matter, those tactics are rather inhumane and are mostly outlawed. What I did to you hasn’t turned you into one of us. Please rest assured.” Xiao shook his head slowly, like he was disgusted with the thought. “I wouldn’t plague anyone else with this terrible lifespan, like… that idiot over there did.” When your eyes widened, and your mouth opened to speak, he replied before you could even question it. “Venti is a pure-blooded vampire, one of the purest, and he made me, along with others, how I am now.”
You stared ahead where the dirty boy was skipping from foot to foot, openly humming a cheery tune as he flung his arms about. It was hard to believe that anyone like him was someone who had taken the blood, and presumably lives, of many. “What does this have to…”
“Pure-bloods have special abilities, in accordance with their dispositions. As for Venti, he can take on the faces of those he has killed.”
A chill ran through your blood. “Then…” All of a sudden, the beaming grin and cheerful, half-closed eyes of Venti seemed like the face of a dancing corpse with strings tied at its joints. 
Xiao sensed your discomfort, and corrected himself. “It was not a matter of massacre. It could not have been helped. That aside, that is irrelevant information. Those turned into vampires by pure-bloods receive blood too intensely concentrated for the bodies to handle, and if they survive the transformation, they will often come with side effects.” With this, he tore off his ragged sleeve to expose his shoulder downwards, his skin characterized with deep green symbols of wings, scales, feathers, spiraling outwards and wrapping around his arms in a sort of beautiful manner. “This is my curse. A karma I have to bear. It makes my mind cloud with bloodlust and… well, makes it harder for me to control myself. Vampires who lose their control are nothing more than animals, pursuing anything that breathes and sinking their fangs into it. They are often taken down by bounty hunters who ensure that they never escape our grounds.”
“Your-Your arm- will you end up like that too? Is… Is there a way to prevent it?” Your voice shook, and the majestic inking suddenly seemed distorted, vile. We’ve only just escaped by clinging to the scruffs of our mortality, and yet he still has this to worry about?
“No, there is a way. Vampires… Well, our history is deeply intertwined with the fate of you humans. From the beginning, inferior-blooded vampires are “born” with a desire to feed. An internal craving that can only be satisfied with the blood of their soulmate. Mine… I’ve yet to find mine. I- I had hopes that it might’ve been you, since you appeared at the moment when my attacks were beginning to grow more and more frequent, and more and more intense… but I suppose those thoughts were baseless. It was purely my fault. As for the “protection” I told you about, that was the truth. Those not tainted by fangs are unable to withstand the pressure of this realm for long. Before long, your mind will collapse far sooner than your body will.”
The intake of information was a struggle. Not a digestion, but a suffocating sense of choking, trying to swallow this disastrous pill before it strangled all your air away instead. “I…see.” Your throat was dry yet once more, and your own voice felt unfamiliar where it resided on your tongue. “Then, where do I come into all of this? I mean… Why are you helping me?”
Xiao paused briefly, but not awkwardly, like this question was one he expected. Around you, the scenery had shifted, and the sky was gradually blending into lighter shades of gray. “Vampires are social creatures, like you humans. For kinds like me, whose ropes are reaching their ends… they hold a special sort of banquet, for the damned to either have one last chance at life, or at least die with their own kind. I have been invited. I cannot refuse.” His words were heavy, like lead. “Doing so would result in my execution.” Abruptly, his gaze was on you. “There is no one else to accompany me. For you who appeared in my hour of need, please, I request your assistance.”
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ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴏᴜʀᴛʜ ᴛʀɪᴀʟ.
next
hey there please read !!
(would it be okay with you guys. if i extended this series. i know its meant to be only for halloween but i have... like... more chapters in mind. at least like three or so more. would you guys still be interested in reading it ?? i cant add another poll. so uhm. please comment. thanks :"") )
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deathmetalunicorn1 · 6 months
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I have a horrible day... I want a cuddle but I can't have one so I want fluff instead... Can I request a reader with RoR characters? Reader is extremely stressed and burnout from work and studies. She was mostly in her room doing works and suddenly came out and immediately seeks her favorite person, her s/o.
Her s/o saw her and immediately knows what she wants when she grabbed his hand, pushed him onto the floor/couch/bed, before laying ontop of him, face bury in his chest or to his side, cuddling him and sighing in relief when s/I didn't fight back and just hold her. Any characters but please include Hades, Thor, Poseidon, Hercules, and Odin for Gods and Qin, Nikola, Lu Bu and Simo, please
-It was getting to be too much for you, between work, studying for school, your personal life with friends, family, and your lover, keeping your house clean, and still trying to have free time for yourself, everything was hitting you hard and all at once.
-You swallowed hard, feeling the tears pricking at your eyes as you pulled your hands away from your keyboard, your hands shaking as you found it hard to breathe.
-Your throat felt tight, it was hard to swallow, and you felt yourself beginning to panic, eyes going wide as the tears easily fell over, slipping down your cheeks.
-You pulled your hands to your chest, trying to keep them from shaking, trying to ground yourself, trying not to dissolve into a panic attack as the first sob ripped from your lips.
-Your lover, (Love) heard the sound from where he was on the couch, instantly turning his head to your office where you had been studying.
-When the door opened and he saw you in tears, he quickly stood, but didn’t make it far as you came over to him, instantly wrapping your arms around his waist, hugging him, your face in his chest.
-Your shoulders shook with your sobs, trying not to be loud, not wanting to bother him, but when his arms wrapped around you, one cupping the back of your head, cradling you close, he felt your hands gripping his shirt as you were quickly wailing, finally breaking.
-(Love) hated when you got to this point, as he was worried for you, he constantly told you to take breaks, to leave things to him where he could help, and to come to him before this would happen.
-You always felt bad, not wanting to bother him with your problems and anxieties, but he would always smile, kissing you and hugging you, “That’s what I’m here for, that’s why I love you- I want to take care of you.”
-(Love) held onto you as he moved to sit on the couch, pulling you with him before he laid down, pulling you so you would lay on top of him, hugging you close as you sniffled, trying to stop your tears.
-His fingers raked through your hair gently, calming you down, and it wasn’t until you went silent, your breathing evening out, that he realized you had cried yourself to sleep.
-(Love) remained still, letting you rest, not going to disturb you, as you needed this break, and once you woke up, you and him were going to have another talk after he ordered take out and got you pain killers, as he knew you were going to have one hell of a headache when you woke up.
-He smiled softly down at you, whispering quietly, so he wouldn’t disturb you, “You don’t need to shoulder the world, Y/N. I’m here to help you, no matter what. Sleep well, my love.”
-His smile widened as he saw your lips turn up in your sleep, hearing his words as he wrapped his arms around you, making you feel safe, warm, and secure.
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hoseokspudding · 9 months
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  ˖ ৎ୭ ॱ ₊ . * Orange Slices
𓂂 ࿐ ۫ ִ ⸼ Synopsis: You find yourself dating the stunning and popular Nami. While she's undeniably beautiful, Nami also has a demanding and bossy demeanor, with a strong focus on materialistic desires. Despite her seemingly tough exterior, she surprises everyone by revealing her genuine affection for you. This contains dribbles of you and Nami's relationship.
Characters: Nami for One Piece
Paring: lesbian Nami x Blackfem reader university edition!
Genre: Dribbles, Fluff that will eventually lead to smut.
Word count: 1.3k
Warnings: Afab reader, fingering, nipple play, cussing, teasing, a bit of bullying?
。゚♡ ˖ ࣪ ୧ 。: Author's notes:
Woah? Dee's back? Is this a dream? (⁠〃゚⁠3゚⁠〃⁠)
To begin, I'd want to apologize for my recent absence from this platform. I know many of you have been waiting for fresh content and updates from me, and I really apologize for not being as active as I once was.
The reality is that I've been fighting with apprehension when it comes to writing. The pressure to generate relevant and entertaining content has been overpowering at times, and it has sapped my creative energy. Along with this, I've been dealing with burnout in both my writing and my other love. Balancing life, school and my writing has proven to be difficult.
But please know that I haven't given up on blogging or communicating with all of you.I'm determined to break through this frightening barrier and rekindle my creative light. I miss the connections and talks we used to have, and I promise to be more present here in the future.
Thank you for your patience and continuing support. Your words of support mean a lot to me, and I appreciate each and every one of you. Let us look forward to more interactions, tales, and shared experiences in the future.
Now that's out of the way, please enjoy getting bossed around by Ms. Nami <3 ꒰⁠⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠꒱⁠˖⁠♡
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NO MINORS
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Imagine being in a relationship with a bossy Nami attending university together:
-Nami is studying meteorology while you're studying psychology.
-Nami's lively manner and fierce drive can give the appearance that she is a bit of a brat at times. Her unrelenting pursuit of her goals, as well as her quick-witted retorts, can appear sarcastic or impulsive. But beneath that tough appearance is a heart of gold, fiercely protective of her friends and always striving to attain her goals. Nami's strong-willed character may occasionally ruffle feathers, but it is precisely this trait that propels her to success, making her a force to be reckoned with in both her objectives and her relationships.
-At first, Nami was quite bossy towards you, but over time, she gradually warmed up and began wanting to follow you around and hang out together.
-Nami started being bossy towards you:
-during a group project in class, Nami takes charge without hesitation. She assigns tasks to everyone, including you, without considering your strengths or preferences. When you suggest an alternative approach, she dismisses it with a curt remark, making you feel belittled. Throughout the project, she constantly criticizes your contributions and seems unwilling to listen to any of your ideas, leaving you frustrated and unappreciated. She wants everything to be perfect and her way.
-Another example of her being a bit mean towards you was in a study session, Nami notices you struggling with a difficult concept. Instead of offering help, she makes sarcastic comments about your lack of understanding, causing some classmates to chuckle. When you ask for clarification, she responds with impatience, making you feel embarrassed about seeking assistance. Her condescending attitude leaves you feeling disheartened and reluctant to participate in future study sessions.
-However, she changed her tune and came to like you when she discovered that you and she shared interests such as the color orange, oranges, and shopping.
-Nami would puff her cheeks and cross her arms when she can't get her away, she wants things done her way only.
-Nami would climb on you to apply make-up, and you'd smile up at her as she untwisted the lip gloss and coated your lips with a pink gloss that took pleasure in seeing you in.
-Nami is really mischievous in the relationship, often taunting you in a nice manner to get you all worked up. She would also sneak a kiss from you at any given opportunity.
-Nami would wait outside of your class and walk you back to your dorms, asking about your class and if you needed any assistance.
-Speaking of assistance, you two would always have your study dates/tutoring sessions at the university library because if you two tried to study in one of your dorms, you'd be making out and getting handsy.
-You would tag along with Nami as her golden retriever girlfriend anytime she went shopping for new outfits, which was around once a week.She'd embark on a shopping spree, buying clothes for herself and, of course, you. She had to make sure you two were the most stylish couple on campus.
-She is incredibly supportive of you and your goals, and she will practically go after anyone who disparages you in front of her.
-Nami is spoiled in the relationship since she is a high maintenance girl who enjoys the luxury of having her nails and hair done.
-As a nice date and bonding opportunity, the two of you will get your nails and hair done together.
- Nami would occasionally cook for you, but she jokes that you'll have to pay for her services, which is fortunate that you two are dating because she would've charged you for the meal. She is a college student after all, she needs a little side hustle after all.
- Nami occasionally will dress you two similar or the exact attire. For example, Nami will select matching bikinis for the two of you whenever you go swimming.
- Nami would help you in combing and detangling your hair on wash day. She enjoyed assisting you with your hair maintenance. Nami also found it to be a way to bound with each other.
-Nami often bring you tangerines while you guys hang together.
- You were Nami's golden retriever girlfriend, constantly enjoying her company and being close by her side if she needed anything. You were there for her if she needed someone to talk to and vice versa. You two supported and encouraged one another.
-Surprisingly, she was the first to declare that she was in love with you, she couldn't help but appreciate everything about you and the way you act.
✧⁠*⁠。NSFW
-Nami is very dominant in the relationship, she knows what she wants in and out of the relationship.
- The redhead enjoys spreading love bites around your neck and down your breast.
- Nami's middle and ring manicured fingernails are shorter than the rest of her fingers so she can finger you.
-Nami coos in your ear as her fingers navigate your insides, encouraging you to "do well for mommy" as she leads you to your climax.
-on top of the strap, Nami passionately jumping and shouting out your name. Her hand gripping your leg for support as she rides the pink strap, groaning and cursing. As she cums, her knees buck and shake. She smiles as she bends down and licks your pump lips.
-Nami has diamond-heart shaped nipple rings.
-Nami is into edging, she adores playing with your clit and devilishly stops stroking you just as you're about to reach your climax, leaving you gasping for air and your thoughts all fuzzy. She finds it amusing in this manner.
-Nami enjoys calling you sweetheart, bunny, and angel in bed as she licks in between your legs, makes her way down to your clit, and feasts on your honey pot, making you leak with your juices. She'll glance up at you with your fluids smeared on her luscious lips.
-You would bring Nami to the side and immediately admonish her for her conduct by pressing her against the wall and in between her legs "Now Nami, if you keep acting like an ass in public, I'll have no choice but to punish you" whenever she acts like a brat in public.
-You enjoy laying on Nami's breasts, sometimes falling asleep on them, and other times fondling her enormous mounds and appreciating how lovely and soft they feel in your hands.
*Bonus for my very very late update <3*
Nami annoying you when you're trying to study:
You were concentrating on your calculus homework, tapping your pink pencil against your glossy lips, trying to figure out how to answer this problem. You were currently seated on your girlfriend's lap, hoping she would assist you in answering some questions. Nami smiled evilly as her hands rubbed the sides of her stomach. "Can't this wait until later...? I'm not sure when I'm not completing my math homework." You were now irritated and looked Nami in the corner of her eye. "Stay focused, princess; you won't even notice I'm here." Nami's mind was occupied by a pernicious concept that plagued her mind. "What have I told you about calling me that... I'm not a princess" You were feeling frustrated since you were attempting to study but were unable to do so thanks to your childish girlfriend.
+++
"What's wrong, babe?" Nami made a sly grin. You were ashamed and overstimulated. You were gasping for air and attempting to calm down after being all riled up."What happened to all the work you had to do?" "f..uck off.." were the only words you could muster as you lay on top of the other girl, saliva dripping from your plump lips and your skirt ripped. Your shirt had been unbuttoned and your bra had been pushed all the way down, exposing your breast that was now covered in lipstick marks. Nami smirked and gazed down at you as she got her way once more.
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Thanks for reading! Reblogs Likes, Shares and comments are greatly appreciated ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ
Tags: @cultistry @sailewhoremoon @shunsuist
© Hoseokspudding 2023 all rights reserved. my work is not to be stolen, translated, reposted or copied.
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hoshologies · 10 months
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PARTY PACK, LEE H.
⌗ syn. you spent the entire summer telling your family that you weren't going to join a sorority. now not only are you an initiated member of delta eta sigma, but you've been elected to the social chair position for you chapter. you've planned a runout with the social chair of lambda rho, heeseung lee, and gotten close to him in the process. after an eventful night, you've got some big things to discuss.
⌗ gen. romance, fluff. meet-cute, friends to lovers, college au, greek life au. warnings. mentions of (over)eating, lapslock intended.
⌗ word count. 1.5k.
⌗ prev. read all greek love here ! it is recommended you read it before reading party pack because this is not meant to be a standalone piece.
⌗ note. i am beyond ecstatic that all greek love was received so well. i haven't written that much in about a year due to mental health and a massive kpop/writing adhd burnout, so seeing people enjoy it so much made me incredibly happy. thank you all for reading it. i mentioned wanting to do a little bonus scene/story to wrap up agl!heeseung and reader's story, so that's this. i'm not sure they really need a sequel or anything, but i may be open to exploring their relationship more in the future if i can come up with any good ideas.
again, thank you so much for enjoying all greek love so much. i'm really glad to be back to writing.
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as expected, with the clock on heeseung’s dashboard closing in on two in the morning, the taco bell drive through line is packed bumper to bumper and still leaks out onto the street. all you really wanted was some soft tacos and fiesta potatoes, but now you’re stuck in between two very rowdy, very loud cars, drunk college students hanging halfway out of the windows talking to each other. heeseung puts his car in drive maybe every ten minutes to inch forward; it’s agony.
he turns your own music down just a little bit and then lets his hand come to rest palm up on your thigh, wiggling his fingers a little. you laugh and rest your hand in his, intertwining your fingers. like clockwork, a habit he’s already picking up, his thumb starts tracing lines where it falls against your skin. it’s something you find comfort in, the soft ghost of his touch against you. even before you got together, he’d let the backs of his fingers brush yours when you ended up studying at the library or your shoulders when you’d walk together across campus.
his hand stays in yours until he shifts gears from park to drive and back again, his hand finding yours each time there’s a lull in the drive through line. he orders your food for you, hand resting on your thigh instead, curling into the skin just above your knee, pays for your late night meal, even though you insist it isn’t necessary. he smiles bashfully at you and tells you to not worry about it; he wants to do it.
and then you end up sitting by the university lake, watching the fountains in the middle light up with the university colors. he’s spread a spare blanket he had in the backseat of his car on the ground and you sit shoulder to shoulder, sharing a large soda and a party pack of supreme soft tacos, you with your lone order of fiesta potatoes and his cinnamon twists. you eat mostly in silence, only broken up with the rustle of wax paper and the rush of the fountains, until he finally turns his head to look at you. when you look at him yourself, he’s haloed again, backlit by the orange streetlamps in the parking lot.
“so,” he starts, resting his elbow on his tented knees and nestling his head in his hand. “the big stuff.”
you’d almost forgotten about that, the big stuff, and now you’re having to fight back a cough because you almost choked after he reminded you. but he’s right. you kissed and then slept together (there was no second round in the shower, save for some kissing, but it was nice either way, heeseung there to work you over and ease the tension with deft hands and nice smelling body wash) and now here you are, sitting at the university lake and sharing far too many tacos. you need to sort things out.
“right,” you say finally, swallowing back the last bite of your fourth taco. “the big stuff.”
you fall silent again, neither one of you quite sure how to go about this. so you’re both sitting at the lakeside, clueless and blinking at each other and somehow it becomes one of the funniest situations ever and you just start giggling. heeseung stares at you bewildered for a few seconds before he joins in too, his face cracking open with a bright smile as he leans towards you, shoulders shaking with laughter.
“we’re ridiculous,” he says between chuckles, his dark eyes sparkling with mirth under the bronze lamplight.
“losers, more like,” you respond, meeting him halfway and letting your shoulder press tight against his. “wanted to talk about the big stuff and couldn’t even do that without being awkward. liv and yeonjun would have a field day with this if they knew.”
you sit there for a couple long minutes, passing quiet giggles between the two of you, heads bowed together. anybody walking by would think you were conspiring rather than sharing a laugh. eventually, your laughter does fizzle out and you’re left looking at the lake again, shoulder to shoulder, knees almost touching now. heeseung’s arm tentatively drapes over your opposite shoulder and you lean into him.
“i want you to know i don’t do this very often,” he starts, his voice quiet and almost lost to the three am air. “i’m not really one for hookups and all of that; i know you’ve hooked up with a couple of others — which is not a problem, of course. i just… want you to know that this was serious to me. you’re serious to me.”
you nod, but don’t offer anything in response because it sounds like he wants to keep speaking, like he has something else to add. while he fishes for what he wants to say next, you turn his words over in your head. he’s right, you have hooked up a few times since starting school here, but none of them have been as cute or as sweet as heeseung is; you’ve never wanted them to stay with you in your too small twin sized bed the way you want heeseung to. it’s not that you’re a player; maybe you were just waiting for him to waltz into your life.
“the kiss at the party… you said you were tired of waiting for me to make a move and i guess in the moment, i thought that meant you liked me back too, but i never really considered whether you just wanted to sleep with me or—”
you can’t take it anymore, heeseung’s second guessing. you’ve never been so serious about anyone or anything in your life. maybe you did something to make him think otherwise or maybe you didn’t and this is just him being that shy, nervous boy you’ve come to adore over the last month, but either way, you’ll do what it takes to prove to him that this was always more than a one night stand to you.
so you pull him to you, kiss him slow and soft and gentle. there’s no tongue involved, no clashing of teeth. it’s just your lips molded perfectly to his, your hand pressed featherlight to his cheek, his sharp inhale of surprise before he melts into your touch. it’s three am and you’re sitting at the university lake kissing the only boy you think you’ll ever fall in love with, his leg pressed to yours from hip to knee, his fingers curling into your sweater sleeve tight, unyielding. nothing could be more perfect than this.
you pull away, but don’t move far, glancing up at him through your eyelashes. “it was serious for me too, heeseung. i promise.”
he breathes a sigh of relief, his eyes fluttering closed as his forehead tilts to rest against yours. there’s more silence for a few long moments, just your breaths mingling between you, his fingers as they brush over the soft cotton of the sweater wear now, one you borrowed from him and never returned all those weeks ago after you got caught in a downpour.
“good 'cause i really don’t know what i would have done if you said you wanted to keep it casual,” he says at last, laughing a breathy little laugh at the end. “honestly. i really might have died on the spot because i like you so much.”
you let out a loud laugh, one that resonates from deep in your chest, and you push at his shoulders, leaning away from him. “you’re such a dork.”
he recovers from the shove and leans back in, wrapping both of his arms around you now, his chin on your shoulder. “maybe so, but you like me anyways.”
you look at him and smile, still laughing. “yes, i like you anyways.”
he smiles, all starlight and sunbeams, and he nudges your nose with his, smiles impossibly brighter when you giggle. “so much you’ll let me take you on a date later?”
you pretend to think about it before you nod resolutely. “i’ll like you even more if we go on a date.”
heeseung mirrors your nod and then presses one, two, three short pecks to your lips before he pulls away fully, smiling still. he nudges at the cardboard box between you, the bottom still full of soft tacos. he says that you really need to finish the party pack because if he has to take the leftovers to lambda rho, there will be a fight over who gets them and he doesn't want to get caught up in the crossfire.
you go back to heeseung’s dorm, closer than yours this time, with a tiny stomachache, but it’s worth it when he lays you down in bed and holds you to him. he promises your date will not involve tacos or meddling friends; you tell him you don’t care what the date is or involves as long as he’s with you.
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© hoshologies 2023. do not translate, copy, or repost my work on any site.
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