#I don't have anything specific in mind I just KNOW I've seen this sort of nonsense before

[danshive]

"So this super hero has fire powers."

"Are we mostly going to ignore how fire actually works?"

"You know it! Anyway, in this scene, he uses a fire blast to knock someone across a room without burning them or anything else."

"Naturally."

[undying-love]

John and Paul on each other: A Compilation

John:

"He [Paul] looked like Elvis. I dug him."

"I'm like everyone else, Harry. I fell for Paul's looks."

"..an old, estranged fiancée of mine called Paul."

"Paul...you're so well-built." (X)

"Groups like this are normally not friends. They’re just four people out there thrown together to make an act. There may be two of them who sort of go off and are friends, you know...Strictly platonic of course."

"Oh, I've had him, he's no good."

"I was riding on a boat called Paul, and now I'm riding on a boat called Yoko."

"I've compared to a marriage a million times and I hope it's… understandable. For people that aren't married. Or any relationship. It was a LONG relationship. It started many, many years before the American public, or the English public for that matter, knew us. Paul and I were together since he was 15, I was 16."

"Nobody ever said anything about Paul's having a spell on me or my having one on Paul! They never thought that was abnormal in those days, two guys together, or four guys together! Why didn't they ever say, "How come those guys don't split up? I mean, what's going on backstage? What is this Paul and John business? How can they be together so long?"

"Well, Paul had met Linda before [the Apple press conference], you see. I mean, there were quite a few women he'd obviously had that I never knew about. God knows when he was doing it, but he must have been doing it."

"I don’t even think about Paul unless somebody brings him up. Or if some song comes out or something happens, they’re in the newspaper. I don’t know why everyone doesn’t just leave him alone—I haven’t really seen him in ten years. I can talk about him forever because I know all about him, but you see, there’s nothing much to say."

[Studio chatter] Paul: I will be overpowering this time. John: Oh good. I like it when you’re brutal. (X)

Paul:

"John was really my only male friend, if only because of proximity."

"[While playing live] John was to the left or to the right of me, so I never got to sort of see him perform so much. Except in the film [Get Back]. And there he is in massive closeup. I can study everything about him.”

“I’ll just sit around and hug him forever, because that’s the depth of my feeling for him."

"And I would often sketch John when we worked together, often without him knowing it. It was so easy doing John because he had glasses, those sideboards...and that long, aquiline nose."

"When I painted him recently, I found myself saying, ‘How did his lips go?"

"I can still see John now: checked shirt, slightly curly hair…I remember thinking, ‘He looks good - I wouldn’t mind being in a group with him."

"James reminds me very much of John in many ways: he's got beautiful hands. John had beautiful hands."

"If I'm going to see a face in a painting, it's highly likely to be his."

"I still remember his beery old breath when I first met him that day. But I soon came to love that beery old breath. And I loved John."

"I’m often thinking of him. I dream of him."

"Delicious boy, delicious broth of a boy."

"John and I used to hitch-hike places together. It was something that we did together quite a lot; cementing our friendship, getting to know our feelings, our dreams, our ambitions together. It was a very wonderful period. I look back on it with great fondness. I particularly remember John and I would be squeezed in our little single bed."

"There's a song I do called Here Today which is specifically written for John. That sometimes catches me out. I realize I'm telling this man that I love him and it's like I'm publicly declaring this in front of all these people I don't know. I sometimes wonder what I'm doing."

"We are individuals— all different. John married Yoko, I married Linda. We didn’t marry the same girl.”

"Please Please Me was a John idea. John liked the double meaning of “please”. Yeah, “please” is, you know, pretty please. “Please have intercourse with me. So, pretty please, have intercourse with me, I beg you to have intercourse with me.” He liked that, and I liked that he liked that."

"[John] was a wild and woolly genius who it was my pleasure to work with, walk with, talk with and occasionally sleep with. "

Q: If John Lennon could come back for a day, how would you spend it with him? Paul: In bed.

"Then also [me and John] were like married, so you got the bitterness. It’s not a woman scorned this time, it’s two men scorned — probably even worse. And I had to make way for Yoko. My relationship with John could not have remained as it was and Yoko feel secure.”

"I think really what it was, really all that happened was that John fell in love. With Yoko. And so, with such a powerful alliance like that, it was difficult for him to still be seeing me. It was as if I was another girlfriend, almost. Our relationship was a strong relationship. And if he was to start a new relationship, he had to put this other one away."

[pomefioredove]

Hi! This is very very specific, but…I've had a rough start to my day today, kinda relating to the topic of my request…

So I was wondering, would it be alright to request HCs of Jamil, Ruggie, Leona, Floyd and Rollo with a Reader who runs into an emotionally abusive/manipulative parent they haven't seen in a long time? The kind of subtle abuse that's hard to tell (from the inside, at least) is even abuse at all, and makes you doubt yourself a lot. Kinda narcissistic abuse

Kind of a hurt/comfort thing? Like how they'd deal with the bad parent and the Reader opening up a bit about it. Romantic or platonic, either one is good

Feel more than free to ignore if this kind of request isn't your thing: that's totally fine, I understand it's a bit heavy, not to mention very specific, so please do what makes you feel best. I hope you have a good day!

ahhh of course! I relate to this sort of thing a lot (although I don't use terms like narcissistic abuse since abuse is just abuse to me) and I know exactly what you mean. I love hurt/comfort and you're well within my boundaries since the only thing I wouldn't write pertaining to this topic is intimate partner abuse (like with an s/o). so you're perfectly fine! I enjoyed writing this <3

summary: comforting a reader with an abusive parent type of post: short fics characters: jamil, ruggie, leona, floyd, rollo additional info: reader is not specified to be yuu ("shrimpy" is used as a nickname during floyd's part tho), reader is gender neutral, food mention (ruggie's part), actual interaction w the parent happens during leona and rollo's parts, mentions/descriptions of emotional abuse, although reader is kinda vague about it

Jamil Viper

Jamil knows what it's like to feel stuck.

That's really all he has to know when he recognizes that look on your face.

Perhaps you usually wear your heart on your sleeves, or perhaps you're better at keeping your emotions to yourself, like him, but either way he can tell something is very wrong the second he sees you.

It's a bit strange, isn't it?

Surrounded by people in the cafeteria and yet no one seems to notice the shadow cast over you.

He tries to talk himself out of it for the rest of the day. He has enough on his plate as it is, and it's not his problem. He's Kalim's keeper, not yours.

But that sense of unease doesn't go away.

He drags himself out of bed and somehow finds himself at your door in the dead of night.

And even though it takes you a moment to answer, he can tell you were already awake.

"Here," he says, handing you a warm meal in a container. "I noticed you didn't eat today. We had leftovers."

You don't feel very much like eating, but you accept the gift, anyway. It smells amazing. His cooking always does.

"Thank you," you mumble.

You can't think of anything else to say.

"Are you... well, Kalim sent me to ask if you're feeling unwell," he lies through his teeth.

"I'm fine,"

Another lie, this time of your behalf, which annoys him ever-so-slightly.

"You're clearly not. Are you sick?" the question is vague enough, said in such a way that leaves you with the impression that he wasn't exactly referring to a physical illness.

"I've... had a rough day,"

Jamil is quiet for a moment, thinking to himself. And then: "Do you mind if I come in?"

He's always so careful with his words that such a direct (yet polite) request almost catches you off guard. You step to the side, letting him in your room.

"I don't mean to pry. I know it's not my place," he says, watching you close the door. "But... Kalim is worried. Yes."

You shake your head. "It's fine. I'll get over it,"

It.

What did "it" mean? Surely this couldn't just be a lousy day.

"Did something happen?"

You hesitate.

"Have you ever... ran into someone who made your life miserable? That you thought you moved on from... and it starts to feel like you're stuck in that place all over again?"

Of course. Of course he knows what that feels like.

He has to live through that exact experience every day, without even being able to move on.

But he can't just say that. And this is about you, after all.

"I'm familiar with the feeling. I suppose that's what's ruined your day, then?"

"That's one way to put it," you sigh, sitting at the edge of your bed. "Sometimes it feels like all the progress I've made is just... null. Like I'll never really move on."

He hates how much he's relating to you. How much you're affecting him, now, too.

He follows you to the bed and sits beside you.

"Someday, though, you will. It may feel hopeless now, but... you won't stay stuck forever,"

Unlike me, he thinks.

"How can you be so sure?"

"I can't be. But you don't strike me as someone to give up after hardship,"

Like me.

You're quiet for a moment, seemingly considering what he told you. And then you hug him.

A nice, soft hug. Not abrasive or sudden like the ones Kalim gives. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like.

"Thank you, Jamil,"

He hugs back. "Of course,"

Ruggie Bucchi

It was almost painful, watching you fumble with your wallet like that.

You couldn't seem to get the proper amount out, shaking like a leaf and apologizing profusely. Sam keeps telling you it's okay, but the line forming behind you is starting to grow restless.

Ruggie included.

He has places to be, after all, and he's got two whole crates of energy drinks to lug back to Savanaclaw.

He has half a mind to ask what the holdup is.

And so, he peers over your shoulder, ready to- oh, no. You're crying.

Damn it. Why can't things ever be easy for him?

He can't even chew someone out for taking up all his precious time without being thrown a curveball. And now he feels bad.

Sigh.

"Hey, I got this," he says, setting his heavy crates down on the counter and flashing a card.

Your eyes widen. "Oh, no, Ruggie, you don't have to-"

"Relax, it's Leona's money, not mine," he offers a grin, ignoring the tears trailing down your face. "He won't even notice it's missing."

The line behind you two breathes a collective sigh of relief (much to your embarrassment) and Ruggie shoots them a glare.

"I... I still can't accept this-" you start, before he quickly shushes you.

"Hey, if you wanna make it up to me, you can help me carry these things. I'll call it even,"

You're silent for a moment as Sam finishes ringing you both up, and then you take a crate. As quiet as ever. It's unnerving.

You're walking back to the Hall of Mirrors when Ruggie breaks that silence by bringing up your purchase. "So, what's up with the afternoon snack? Not that I'm judging- I'm jealous. I skipped lunch, shishishi,"

"Oh, it's nothing," you mutter. "Comfort food, I guess."

The concept of comfort food is extremely appealing to him. "Huh. Long day?"

"Something like that... Why'd you skip lunch?"

Trying to change the conversation topic? Clever. But he'll bite, anyway.

"Leona forgot some of his class stuff, so I had 'ta run and get it. Too bad he forgot where he left it... I was all over campus,"

"Did you find it?"

"Eventually. Or else I'd be busy getting my neck wrung instead of 'bein here with you,"

You nod, and the conversation swiftly dies.

After another awkward beat, he clears his throat. "So you... you wanna talk about it, or something?"

"What?"

"You know, your... your day," he mutters, shrugging. He's desperately trying to remember all of the things his grandma did for him when he was upset as a child. "Talking about it might... make 'ya feel better, y'know?"

You're quiet again, and for a moment Ruggie is worried he said something to offend you.

Then, much to his relief, your voice picks up. "I ran into someone today,"

"What? Like someone was giving you trouble?"

"No, not a student. Someone I don't see very much anymore. Um... I guess it just threw me off,"

He tilts his head to the side. "Why?"

"I don't... well, we don't get along very much. Something about them just makes me feel... very... small. Insignificant,"

You don't ask if he understands what you mean, but he does. Not that he'd ever admit that so openly to you at a time like this, but being small and insignificant is basically his job.

And as much as he likes the perks, he can imagine how rough it would be to deal with that and not get to use a bottomless credit card whenever the opportunity presented itself.

He struggles to respond for a moment.

"That's rough,"

Definitely not the sympathetic response he was going for. At least you don't seem to mind.

"I-I mean, sometimes we have to act small to survive. It's a part of life, 'ya know? But that doesn't mean you are small. Just surviving on its own is an accomplishment," he recovers from his earlier blunder, trying to smile. "You should be proud of yourself, if anything."

"That's..." you say. "That's one way of looking at it."

He sighs. "I'm not expressing myself very well, am I? What I'm trying to say is that you're not small or insignificant, and living life feeling like you are is a survival tactic at best,"

The both of you stop in front of Savanaclaw, and he offers another grin.

"And if you ever wanna talk about this stuff... well, I'm around... And you can come inside now, if you want. I could definitely find more stuff to carry!"

Leona Kingscholar

Leona Kingscholar is very, very much enjoying parent weekend alone, thank you.

Of course his folks don't want to attend a school event for their disappointment of a second son. Why would they care? And on Cheka's birthday weekend, no less...

But that didn't bother him. Not at all.

As long as he slept through the weekend without being bothered by any happy-go-lucky nuclear family units, he'd live.

That plan lasts about five hours.

"You'd be better off doing something more useful with your time. Sports, or science, or... something that might help your future. But if you're so sure... I suppose it's better to cut our losses now than put any more faith in you. You just can never decide, can you?"

That voice. Unfamiliar, but drawling, laced with poison. Aggravating enough to stir Leona from his nap in the botanical gardens.

And it's getting closer.

"I just don't understand. Why get accepted into one of the most prestigious schools in the world just to spend your time goofing off?" a long sigh. "But as long as you're happy... we just want what's best for you."

Leona grumbles, turning over and trying to drift back to sleep.

"I'm trying,"

This voice is different. No- he recognizes it. It's yours.

"Are you? You know I know what's best for you, right?"

Sevens. This is your parent speaking to you? No wonder you've been acting all jittery lately.

He sits up, giving up on his nap, and continues listening in.

"I know," you say. "I really am trying, though."

"Did I say you weren't? Don't speak for me,"

This is getting ugly. Leona stands, stepping out of the shrubbery and clearing his throat behind the two of you.

You're the first to turn. "Oh- Leona! Sorry, we didn't mean to disturb you,"

"You're fine," he snaps, sharp eyes turning to your parent beside you. "Who's this, then?"

"This is-"

"Their parent," they go ahead and introduce themselves, cutting you off as if you weren't speaking at all. Like you're a piece of furniture hanging in the background. He's not a fan.

"Really? From the way you were talking, I would have guessed that you were their coach. Or boss,"

Your eyes dart between the two. "Leona-"

"You're fine," he reaffirms. "I was just looking for you, anyway. We really have to talk."

You pause, raising an eyebrow. He? Wants to talk to you? Now?

"Is it important?" your parent asks. The question is directed at you, although he answers.

"Very. I was just coming to ask you, very politely, I might add, to reconsider my offer,"

"Your... offer...?"

Your parent looks down at you. "What's he talking about?"

"Can't blame you for forgetting. I'm sure you're busy with all your... school... things. But I do have to ask you to rejoin the spelldrive club. We're in shambles without you,"

He gives you a certain look, one that clearly reads "Go along with it."

Leona Kingscholar offering an olive branch to someone is a rare occurrence. So you take it.

"Oh! Right, I have been busy with school. I've been meaning to get back to you..."

Your parent looks between the two of you with just the faintest hint of confusion, and then frustration. "You've been playing spelldrive? When was I going to hear about this?"

"They haven't been playing with us," Leona says, a small smirk already forming. "They're the team manager. They're way too smart to be out on the field- no, they're running the team, they're organizing everything, their strategy is like nothing we've ever seen. If only they were in Savanaclaw, we might have a chance at winning one of these years."

"Uhhh..." you start, looking between your parent and the oddly friendly and receptive clone that's replaced Leona. "...Yeah, right."

"Now, if you'll excuse us, we really have to discuss official club matters," he says, shooing away your parent until they eventually give in and leave.

As soon as they're out the door, you turn to him. "What w-"

"Are you alright?" he asks.

Stunned would be an understatement. "I'm fine,"

"Really? Cause you're looking at me like a gazelle caught in headlights,"

"I-I guess it's just been hard... having them here,"

Leona nods, closing his eyes as he thinks to himself. Then, he sighs.

"Yeah. I get that. Come on, then,"

You raise an eyebrow as he starts off in the opposite direction. "What? Where are we going?"

"Somewhere quiet and warm to nap. Being around that person sucked all the energy right out of me, I can't imagine how exhausted you feel,"

He turns to look over his shoulder with a smile. "With any luck, we'll avoid them for the rest of the weekend,"

Floyd Leech

Of course, he can tell something's up right away.

Well... maybe it takes him a little while to tune into the conversation, but once he does, he notices you've been... awfully quiet throughout it.

His favorite little shrimpy? All sad? Moping around like a kicked puppy?

Now this catches his attention.

"Bored?" he asks. It's his first guess.

"Hm?" you ask, looking back at him. "No, I'm fine."

"But you're not,"

"Okay, I'm a little distracted,"

Now that, he can understand. But there's still something very off about the whole thing that he can't quite put his finger on.

"You're not telling me something," he states, matter-of-factly, crossing his arms.

You raise an eyebrow. "...And?"

"And I wanna know. I'm not letting you leave until you tell me,"

Your thought process is probably ranging somewhere between "oh, no," and "oh NO," by now.

"I sweaaar, it's nothing," you insist. "I just had a bad day, okay?"

"Why?"

There's no turning back now. He's invested, and until he loses interest, you're stuck here.

"It was... just... long. Can I go now? I have things to do,"

He frowns, and stands, and then puts you in a headlock. "Alright, where're we 'goin?"

"FLOYD!"

He drags you along with him, remembering not to be too rough as he takes you from place to place on his dailies. You begrudgingly learn to accept it.

When you walk back into the Mostro Lounge, Azul and Jade don't even bat an eye.

"You're thirty minutes late- ah, why do I bother?" Azul says, rifling through a stack of papers on his desk. He only looks up when he catches a glimpse of you. "Oh. Hello, there."

You wave half-heartedly. "Can I get some help?"

"Floyd. What is the meaning of this?" he asks.

Floyd pouts. "There's 'somethin wrong with them and they won't tell me what,"

"Are they ill?"

You lower your eyes at the two as they speak like you're not even there. "Hello?"

"Nah, they feel fine. They're all mopey, though,"

Azul hums to himself, lost in thought. And then: "Well, figure out what it is, and get to work, if you please,"

"Azul!" you shout. He ignores you.

Floyd drags you back outside the office and sits down with you at one of the tables, waving to concerned lounge-goers as they pass by.

"Now will you tell me?"

"Geez, alright, alright. I give up, you win," you sigh. "I... well, my parent was here earlier. At school. And we talked, and they... said some not-very-nice things to me. That's why I've been upset, okay?"

Floyd's smile immediately drops. "I win? But that's not a very good prize,"

"Tell me about it,"

"Why would anyone be mean to you, anyway? You're the best shrimpy I know!"

You avert your eyes. "It wasn't... mean... per se. Just... not nice,"

"Sounds mean to me," he mutters. "I don't get it."

"Well, sometimes these things just... don't make sense. It's my fault, anyway," you sigh.

His gaze sharpens at that. "'An who told you that? You didn't do anything! I'm starting to really dislike this parent of yours,"

His sudden mood swing doesn't phase you, but it does lift your spirits... just the tiniest bit. Even if you wouldn't admit that to yourself. "Hey, it's fine. I'm over it,"

"You sure you don't want me to squeeze 'em?"

"Heh. No, that's okay. I would like you to let me go, though,"

His eyes widen at the sudden realization he still has you in a headlock and he quickly releases you.

You sit up, stretching and rubbing the back of your neck. "Thanks,"

"My arm was starting to hurt, anyway..." he thinks for a moment, looking back to the office door. "Ya think I can use that to get out of working? I wanna spend more quality time with my favorite shrimpy. You could use it!"

You look to the door and shrug. "Hey, worth a try, right?"

Rollo Flamme

Out of all the things to ruin the day, of course it had to be your parent.

The disappointment between the two of you was palpable. And even though it was only a brief encounter, it was enough to sour the rest of the afternoon for the both of you.

The first thing Rollo noticed, of course, was the manner in which they carried themselves. As an authoritative, important figure, puffing out their chest and towering over you. What gave them the right...?

They were not a leader, nor a public figure, nor anyone of interest, if your earlier mentions of them gave him any idea. Nothing but an adult who spoke to the both of you as if you were tiny children.

He loathed being talked down to.

Perhaps he should have said something sooner than he did, and perhaps he should have said something more than the interruption he used to excuse you from the conversation.

And now you're just quiet.

"Are you well?" he asks, looking at you from the corner of his eyes.

You shrug.

"I apologize for not speaking on your behalf sooner. I did not want to be rude,"

No response at all.

Your silence was driving him mad. He couldn't get a good read on what you were feeling when you kept looking away like that.

"If you'd like to return home early, I would understand and escort you promptly,"

"No,"

A response. Not a good one, but a response nonetheless.

"May I ask you a question?" though he doesn't really wait for your permission to go on. "Why do they speak to you like that?"

That comment seems to jolt you, and you turn to look at him with wide eyes. "What? Speak to me like what?"

He struggles for the right words.

How could he describe it? It was so... odd. The words they spoke to you didn't sound cruel, but there was something sinister lurking beneath them. And not even in the typical "polite for the sake of it" sense.

Each response they gave was laced with a sort of venom that seemed to sting you. You had grown quiet, distant, as if you weren't really there at all.

Of course he was familiar with such tactics. He could weave his own words with ease. But you had done nothing wrong- you were guiltless. Why were you being punished?

He couldn't quite come up with an answer.

"You seemed uncomfortable," he finally says, looking away again. "I apologize for such an experience happening to you under my watch."

"It's not your fault,"

"It certainly isn't. And it's not yours, either,"

A blanket of silence falls over the two of you until he speaks again.

"You have nothing to feel bad about," he reaffirms.

Another pause.

"And I don't mean to intrude. But if you ever need my assistance, you know where to find me,"

[queerly-autistic]

I've been thinking about potential pick-up of Our Flag Means Death by another streamer, and how it all might be tying in with the current BBC release, and I have some thoughts about what might be happening and what we can do to give the show the best chance of being picked up.

I think it's important to start by saying that all the whisperings that I heard over the past few months (including from some people who work at/with the BBC) pointed firmly towards a scheduled March release for Our Flag Means Death on the BBC. Needless to say, this means I was extremely surprised when they suddenly announced it was dropping at the beginning of February. I think it's also clear from everything I've seen that the BBC's marketing/social media plan for the release was not ready for February (there was no trailer, which was odd), which, again, really supports the idea that the show was initially schedule for a March release, not a February release.

I firmly believe the release was brought forward. The question is: why? Is it because they saw how much noise and press the show (and our campaign) was getting, and decided to try and capitalise on it? Or is there something else going on?

On top of that, we now have specific questions about Our Flag Means Death appearing on YouGov UK, including asking whether respondents would watch another series. This doesn't just happen. The charity I work for has commissioned YouGov polling (including some very recently) which I have been tangentially involved with, and so I know that this sort of polling is not easy work, and it's not cheap. Someone has put time AND money into commissioning this polling. This is significant. Someone is not only watching, but they are specifically watching the UK response to the show, and putting questions to the UK audience about it.

I have strong suspicions that a streamer (or several streamers) are interested in picking up the show, and are using the UK release as a live case study (Apple, Amazon and Netflix also have a presence in the UK, so we are a big target audience for them in a way we never were for Max). This could account for both the potential bringing forward of the BBC release (they didn't want to wait until March), and the YouGov polling that's going on (bear in mind, the YouGov questions were specifically as part of a wider survey about streaming services).

And this isn't just a passing interest: working with the BBC to bring forward the release, and investing time and money into YouGov polling? That's a strong interest. That's so interested they've already invested something into it.

Of course, I don't know anything for certain, so take everything with a pinch of salt (it's just a theory...a gay pirates theory...), but I think it's something to consider as a strong possibility.

So what does this mean for us?

It means we need to keep streaming on iPlayer. Watch it as many times as you can. Share it with your friends and family. If you're outside the UK, get yourself a VPN and join the party. Watch the live broadcasts on Monday nights (if you have iPlayer, you can stream the live broadcast - this is what I do because I don't have a TV). Keep tweeting about it (add the #OurFlagBBC hashtag to the existing hashtags we're using). Tag and email the UK media (including TV guides and radio shows) and ask them to talk about the show/our campaign. If you're tagging/emailing Apple, Amazon or Netflix, make sure you mention you're from the UK (and tag their UK specific social media accounts).

According to Parrot Analytics, the demand in the UK for the show is rising - let's keep adding to that!

You can also sign up to YouGov and rate the show (more instructions in the quote retweets of the tweet I linked to earlier), and keep answering questions about TV shows and streaming (and marking Our Flag Means Death as one of your interests) as a way to try and get them to give you the specific questions about the show (these start as a question about streaming and streaming services, which then turn into questions about OFMD, so if you get a survey like that, take it!).

It's also worth considering that if there's any validity to this, then there's a possibility that they might be waiting until after the show has finished airing in the UK (the finale is airing on 25th March) to crunch all the numbers together. This means that if we don't hear anything in the next few weeks, do not despair! We need to buckle in for a long fight, and to keep pushing the show and making noise over the next few weeks and months, especially around the BBC release.

This show is worth the fight. Let's get our damned men back!

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

hello!! so i know ive never sent in an ask/request but.. ive been following you for a while and i love your writing style!! so i was wondering if youd be comfortable writing something where the mc/reader has tourettes syndrome? as someone who has tics it makes me lowkey sad that i never see any fics that represent that :/ (i think ive maybe read one..) so if youre comfortable with this sort of thing i have 2 scenarios that i was thinking of!!

texts with fem!reader where maybe a friend was trying to set a skz member and reader on a date and reader gets insecure thinking that he might not like her cause of her tics or think its weird? a little angst moment w a happy ending ofc :p

or headcanons/drabble of how you think a skz member(s) would be with an s/o that has tics? how they would handle tic attacks and such yk?

these are just suggestions ofc if you decide to do a reader w tics feel free to do whatever you feel like!! also i have no specific member i prefer just do whoever you see fit! or even ot8 :o

this was longer than i wanted it to be.. im so sorry :(… i love you tho and hope u have a great day/night!

(stay hydrated, you matter <3)

when i got this rec i immediately started working on it, because i think its important for people to know that they are seen. and if through one of my works i could help someone feel seen and cared for than thats what i want to do! in all honesty, i had to do a little research to better understand how to do my best to accurately represent TS; and i know it isn't perfect, but i hope it can at least be enough :) i hope you don't mind I kind of merged both of your ideas, since it came to my mind when i read through this request, and i think its a fun and wholesome way of showcasing this beautiful part about you. i know it must be extremley hard dealing with tourettes, as i've seen it in others lives, and it sometimes might be seen as a hinderance- but you were made this way with purpose, and i don't think that tourettes or anything of the sort should be seen as something ugly- but rather something that shaoes you and makes you you. i know that might seem cliche, but i beleive that differences are what what make people beautiful and i hope with these fics that shines thorugh <3 enjoy!!!

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When Their Blind Date Has Tourettes Syndrome | 3Racha

Tourette Syndrome (TS) is a neurological disorder characterized by repetitive, involuntary movements and vocalizations known as tics. These tics can be motor (such as blinking, head jerking, or facial grimaces) or vocal (such as grunting, throat clearing, or involuntary words or phrases). The severity and frequency of tics can vary greatly from person to person. TS often begins in childhood, and while symptoms can improve with age, they may persist into adulthood. The exact cause is unknown, but genetics and environmental factors are believed to play a role. The condition can often accompanied by other issues like ADHD or OCD.

Warnings: cursing

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Chan

The café was quiet, the kind of serene setting perfect for a blind date. But you couldn’t fully enjoy it- not with your nerves tangled like this.

When Chan arrived, his easy smile and warm energy made it a little easier to breathe, though the thought of what could go wrong lingered at the back of your mind.

He approached with a casual wave, his hoodie slightly oversized, making him look more approachable than you’d expected. “Y/N?” he asked, his Australian accent soft and cozy.

“That’s me,” you replied, your voice steadier than you felt.

“And I’m Chan,” he introduced himself, sliding into the seat across from you. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Yeah, same.” You smiled, tugging at the sleeve of your sweater.

The conversation started smoothly, easing into topics about work, hobbies, and mutual friends who had set you two up. But as your tics began surfacing- little jerks of your head, accompanied by muttered syllables- you noticed Chan’s gaze shift slightly. It wasn’t discomfort or judgment, though; it was curiosity, an openness that surprised you.

When a loud, unexpected swear escaped your lips- "Fuck! Shit!"- the words hanging awkwardly between you, your stomach dropped. The moment you’d dreaded was here. You braced yourself, heart racing.

“I…I should explain,” you started, your words hurried. “I have Tourette’s, and- uh - its the coprolalia kind." You laughed nervously. "It’s not all the time, but sometimes - goddammit - I just…swear. I promise I’m not trying to - fucking asshole - be rude or anything. I'm just involuntarily profane on occasion." You finshed with a click of your tongue.

Chan’s eyes softened, his brow furrowing slightly. “Y/N,” he said, his tone light, “you don’t need to apologize. Like you said, it’s not something you can control.”

“I just- I know it can be a lot,” you admitted, your voice wavering. “And I don’t want to mess this up, but…this is part of me, and I can’t always- ” Another tic interrupted you, louder this time. “Fucking hell!” The words burst out, and you winced, unable to stop yourself. “I already really like you,” you confessed in a rush, voice quieter now, “But if this is too much…”

Chan reached out across the table, his hand brushing yours gently. “Hey, Y/N, look at me.” His voice was soft but firm, grounding you. “It’s not too much, okay? You’re amazing, and this doesn’t change that.”

“But what if it gets worse?” you asked, the fear evident in your tone.

He smiled, leaning back in his chair. “Then I guess I’ll have to work on not laughing when you curse better than I do.” He commented, his dimple visible. He tilted his head playfully. “I mean, you’ve already got me beat. I can’t even cuss in my songs unless it’s wordplay.”

Despite yourself, a surprised laugh escaped your lips. The tension eased just a little, the weight of the moment lifting as you realized he wasn’t just accepting- he was embracing this part of you.

The rest of the date was easier after that. You talked about your favorite shows, your shared love of music, and even a bit about his work. But later, as you both stood at the café counter to pay, things took a turn.

A customer bumped into you, and you immediately spun to apologize.

“Oh I'm so- Asshole! Sorry, fuck!” The words tumbled out in quick succession, your face paling as the man turned to glare at you.

“What did you just say to me?” he demanded, his voice rising.

“I- I didn’t mean to!” you stammered, panic setting in as another tic followed. “Shut up! Oh my god, bitch fuck!”

“Are you kidding me?” The man stepped closer, anger flashing in his eyes.

Before you could respond, Chan was at your side, his presence a solid wall of protection. “Hey, back off,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “She has Tourette’s. She didn’t mean it.”

The man scoffed. “Right, sure.”

Chan squared his shoulders, his expression calm but unyielding. “You heard me. She can’t control it. Now, do you want to keep making a scene, or are you going to walk away?”

After a moment of tense silence, the man muttered something under his breath and turned away. Chan stayed by your side, his hand brushing the small of your back as he looked at you. “You okay?”

Tears welled in your eyes, but you nodded, feeling both overwhelmed and touched by his defense. “I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t be.” He smiled softly, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “You don’t have to apologize for being you, Y/N.”

As you left the café together, the cool night air brushed against your face, but it didn’t feel as sharp as it had earlier. Not with Chan walking beside you, his presence steady and comforting. You looked at him, your heart full, and wondered if this was what it felt like to be truly understood.

“You know,” Chan said, breaking the silence with a teasing grin, “If I ever need someone for creative adlibs, I think you’ve got a solid resume.”

You burst into laughter, the sound blending with the night, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like it was okay to just be you.

As you walked side by side down the quiet street, the tension from earlier melted away into a comfortable silence. Chan glanced at you, the way the faint glow of the streetlights caught in your hair and softened the nervous creases in your expression. He felt a quiet sense of awe settle in his chest, like he’d stumbled upon something rare and precious without even realizing it.

You were real- messy and raw and unapologetically yourself in ways that left him both grounded and inspired. He admired the way you carried the weight of your tics with grace, even when the world pushed back harder than it should. And now, as your laughter from his earlier joke faded into the stillness, he realized something else: he didn’t want this to be a fleeting moment or a passing chapter.

Chan could see it- a future where he was by your side, learning every part of what made you you. A future where he’d be the one to hold your hand during hard days and celebrate the victories that came your way. The thought both terrified and thrilled him, but as he glanced down at you, your soft smile easing the ache of your earlier tears, he couldn’t imagine wanting anything else.

"Y/N," he said softly, his voice breaking through the quiet. "Thanks for letting me see this side of you tonight. I mean it- it makes me want to stick around."

You looked at him, surprised by the sincerity in his tone, but the warmth in his gaze left no room for doubt. And as you continued walking together into the night, your heart felt just a little lighter, the first stirrings of something new and hopeful beginning to take root.

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Changbin

Changbin had been skeptical about the blind date from the start. His friends had teased him relentlessly, insisting he needed to “put himself out there,” and while he’d grumbled about it, here he was. Standing in line at the movie theater, his phone buzzed with a quick text confirming you’d arrived.

When his eyes met yours across the crowded lobby, his breath caught. You were standing near the concessions, shifting nervously on your feet as you looked around. There was something endearingly hesitant about the way you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, like you were steeling yourself.

"Hi," you greeted softly when he approached, offering a shy smile. Your voice was gentle but warm, and it immediately put him at ease.

“Hey,” he replied, his grin spreading easily. “You must be Y/N.”

As you nodded, a quick, staccato whistle broke through the air- a sound you made involuntarily. It was followed by a soft “meow” and an apologetic wince on your part.

“I’m sorry,” you said quickly, your gaze darting to his face as if bracing for judgment.

Changbin tilted his head slightly, his expression curious but kind. “Did you just...meow?” A musical sound lilted amusingly at the end of his sentence.

Your cheeks flushed. “I- um- I have Tourette’s,” you explained in a rush, your words tumbling over each other. “I can’t always control my tics, and sometimes they’re, uh…kind of random. Like the meowing. Or…” You paused as another whistle slipped out, followed by a faint, high-pitched “boo!”

For a moment, he just blinked at you, then broke into a wide smile. “In all honesty...that’s kind of adorable. You’re like a sound effects board.”

Your jaw dropped slightly, caught off guard by his response. “You don’t think it’s… weird?”

He shrugged, his gaze warm and steady. “Everyone’s got their quirks. Yours just happen to make you sound like a cartoon character, and honestly, I think that’s awesome.”

Relief flooded your features, and your shoulders relaxed slightly. “Most people don’t really see it that way.”

“Well, most people are missing out.” He shot you a playful wink, and when you laughed, the tension in the air dissolved.

The two of you fell into an easy rhythm as you moved through the line, chatting about everything from favorite movies to your shared love of snacks. Changbin couldn’t help but notice how your tics- whistles, squeaks, and the occasional unexpected phrase- seemed to punctuate your sentences like exclamation points.

“Honestly,” he said at one point, his tone teasing, “your tics match my cute energy, don't you think?” He said poking his cheek in mock aegeyo. "It's babygirl heaven, don't you think?"

You laughed so hard at that, you nearly dropped your drink. “I cannot believe you just said that.”

He grinned, pleased with himself. “What can I say? Its the truth.”

But as you approached the counter to pick up your popcorn, the mood shifted. A group of teens standing nearby had been snickering quietly, but their whispers grew louder when one of your tics- a sudden, sharp “woof!” -rang out.

“Did she just bark?” one of them muttered, barely concealing a laugh.

Another chimed in, mockingly imitating the sound.

Your cheeks flushed, and you quickly turned away, mumbling an apology to the cashier as another tic- this time a chirped “uh-oh!”- slipped out. The laughter from the group grew louder, and you visibly flinched, trying to shrink into yourself.

Before you could even process what was happening, Changbin stepped forward, his voice cutting through the commotion like a blade. “Hey, is there a problem?”

The teens fell silent, their smug grins faltering under the weight of his glare.

“Because if there is,” he continued, his tone calm but laced with steel, “I suggest you take a good, long look at yourselves and figure out why you think laughing at someone for something they can’t control makes you feel better about your own lives.”

One of them opened their mouth to respond, but the words seemed to die on their tongue as Changbin took a deliberate step closer, his presence suddenly towering despite his shorter frame.

“Thought so,” he said, his smile tight and unyielding. “Now, if you’ll excuse us.”

He turned back to you, his expression softening immediately. “You okay?”

Your throat felt tight, but you managed a nod, blinking back the sting of tears. “Yeah. I just…I’m embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed? For what?” His brow furrowed in genuine confusion.

“For causing a scene. For…” You hesitated, your voice breaking slightly. “For being a lot.”

Changbin’s expression softened, but his voice was steady and firm as he rested his hand gently on your arm, grounding you. “Y/N, you are just you. And anyone who can’t see how amazing that is doesn’t deserve your time, okay?”

The sincerity in his voice was overwhelming, his gaze so earnest it made your chest ache. For a moment, all you could do was nod, your chest tightening with a mix of gratitude and something deeper you couldn’t quite name.

As the two of you settled into your seats in the theater, he handed you your drink, his shoulder brushing yours in a way that felt both casual and deliberate. He leaned closer, his tone warm and teasing. "Like I said, I think your tics are adorable. And with a face like yours, I don't think any tic could be ugly or embarrassing."

Your laugh bubbled out, soft and genuine, and his grin widened. The tension you’d been carrying began to ease, replaced by a quiet sense of comfort.

Throughout the movie, you couldn’t help but notice the way he’d glance at you when you laughed at a scene or leaned forward slightly during an intense moment. It wasn’t just the movie holding his attention- it was you.

And Changbin knew it. With every glance, every tiny movement you made, he felt his resolve strengthening. He didn’t just want to spend the evening with you; he wanted to be part of your life in every way. He wanted to learn all the things that made you laugh, what made your eyes light up, what brought out the quiet confidence he’d glimpsed earlier.

He wanted to be the person you trusted with every part of yourself, the one who reminded you how extraordinary you were even when you couldn’t see it.

When the credits rolled, he stayed seated for a moment, turning to face you as you stretched and looked over at him. His chest tightened as he saw the way your smile hesitated, like you weren’t sure he’d want to stick around for more.

But he did. He wanted everything.

“How about dinner?” he asked, his words quick but hopeful. “I mean…if you’re up for it. I’d really like to keep talking to you. About anything. Everything.” His voice softened, carrying a weight of sincerity that made your breath catch. “I want to know you, Y/N. All of you.”

Your cheeks warmed, and a smile broke across your face, shy but unguarded. “I’d like that.”

As the two of you walked out of the theater, the night air felt lighter, the buzz of the world around you fading into the background. Changbin fell into step beside you, his shoulder brushing yours again.

Then, without hesitation, he reached out, his hand slipping into yours. His touch was gentle but firm, grounding, like he wanted to hold onto you in every way.

Your fingers curled around his, and when you glanced up, his smile softened, his dark eyes brimming with something you couldn’t quite name.

In that moment, Changbin wasn’t just thinking about the next date or the night ahead. He was thinking about the way you made his heart race, the way you made him feel alive in a way he hadn’t realized he was missing.

He wanted more of this- more of you. Not just tonight, not just a few dates, but always. And as his thumb brushed lightly over the back of your hand, he realized one thing: he didn’t just want you around. He wanted you in his life, forever.

And he was so happy he didn't say no to this blind date.

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Han

Han Jisung had never considered himself the blind-date type. He liked to think of himself as spontaneous, sure- but not this kind of spontaneous. Yet, here he was, bundled in his favorite oversized hoodie, leaning against the railing of the city’s rooftop garden, waiting for a stranger.

When he saw you, his first thought was that his friend had undersold this whole setup. You weren’t at all what he expected- not that he knew what to expect. You were a breathtaking kind of pretty. And Han's heart flipped his chest.

You walked up with a careful sort of confidence, clutching the strap of your tote bag, your breath misting in the cool night air.

“Hi,” you greeted with a shy smile, your head tilting slightly as you blinked rapidly, followed by a quick jerk of your shoulder.

“Hi,” Jisung replied, pretending not to notice. He already felt his nerves settle slightly. There was something about you that felt...real.

Your mutual friend had mentioned you liked quiet settings, so instead of a loud restaurant or café, the garden had seemed like a good idea. Jisung gestured to the path leading further into the rooftop greenery. “Shall we walk?”

You nodded, your steps matching his, though every few strides you tapped your fingers against your leg. A small tic, but it was constant, like a rhythm you needed to keep.

The conversation started slow. Typical blind-date awkwardness lingered, but Jisung’s natural humor quickly worked its way in. He made a joke about the chilly weather, earning a laugh from you that felt like a little victory.

“So,” he began after a lull, “what’s your favorite thing to do in the city? Or are you more of a stay-home-and-chill type?”

“I like to stay in most days,” you admitted, tilting your head again as your hand briefly flicked out to your side. “I guess I’m more introverted. But when I do go out, I like quieter places…like this.”

“Good choice,” Jisung agreed, kicking the ground nervously. “Crowds are overrated anyway.”

You laughed softly, but your shoulders twitched again, more pronounced this time. You tried to suppress it, but Jisung caught the way your hand clenched slightly afterward, as if bracing yourself.

As the walk continued, your tics became more noticeable- a rapid blinking, a jerk of your wrist, the occasional tap of your foot on the pavement mid-stride. You hesitated for a moment before stopping by a bench, your hand brushing against your hair as you looked at the ground.

“Hey,” you said, your voice quieter now, “I think I should tell you something.”

Jisung turned to face you, his brow furrowed in concern. “What’s up?”

“I have Tourette’s,” you explained, your tone steady but guarded. “It’s not super severe, I've learned to live with it most days, but…I wanted to mention it in case…” You trailed off, your hand twitching slightly toward your chest before falling back to your lap.

“In case what?” Jisung asked gently.

“In case it’s…too much.”

For a moment, Jisung stared at you, his face unreadable. You wondered if you’d just ruined the evening. But then he spoke, his voice tinged with disbelief.

“Too much? Are you kidding? I can be a lot. Like, ask anyone.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard by his lighthearted tone.

“I mean, seriously,” he continued, gesturing wildly for emphasis. “I talk way too much when I’m nervous, I lose stuff constantly, and don’t even get me started on how clumsy I am. If anyone’s a walking chaos machine, it’s me.”

You laughed softly, but it didn’t last long. Your shoulder jerked twice, quickly followed by an involuntary flick of your hand. You sighed, your lips trembling slightly as you looked away. “But it’s not just that, Jisung,” you muttered, your voice breaking slightly. “I… I don’t want to mess this up.”

His teasing grin faded, replaced by a look of concern. “Mess what up?”

“This,” you whispered, blinking rapidly as tears welled in your eyes. “You’re so nice, and I already really like you, but then there’s… me. My tics. It’s not just that I get nervous; it’s that I can’t stop it. And I hate thinking that it might make people uncomfortable, even if they don’t mean for it to.”

Your words spilled out faster than you could stop them, and you quickly wiped at your eyes, frustrated with yourself. “I don’t want to scare you away. But I…I don’t know how not to. Everyone else has been scared away before- but you seem really nice and I actually feel something and I don't want to put hope into something that-”

Jisung felt his chest tighten at your words. Without thinking, he dropped down to sit beside you on the bench, interupting you, his tone soft but firm. “Hey, hey, don’t cry. Please don’t cry.”

You shook your head, a small, bitter laugh slipping out. “Sorry, I’m just…making this worse, aren't I?” You flicked your hand out again, accidentally slapping Han.

“No,” he said quickly. “No, you’re not. I mean it.”

When you didn’t respond, Jisung hesitated before reaching out, his hand hovering awkwardly near your shoulder. “Can I…?”

You nodded, and he gently rested his hand there, his thumb brushing lightly against the fabric of your coat. “Listen,” he began, “I don’t know who made you think you had to be scared of people running away from you being you, but they’re wrong. You’re…you’re great. And brave, too, for being so honest about this. I admire that.”

You blinked at him through your tears, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. You hand jerked out, but this time he caught it, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“And honestly?” he continued, a small smile tugging at his lips, as he rubbed his hands over your manicured nails. “You’re not scaring me away. Like, at all. If anything, you’re just making me want to know you better.”

You let out a shaky breath, his words sinking in slowly but surely. “Really?”

“Really,” he confirmed, his eyes crinkling with warmth. “And besides, I kind of suck at running, Like really really suck. I trip more than I actually run.”

A soft laugh escaped you then, the tension in your chest easing for the first time that evening. “You’re kind of amazing, you know that?”

Jisung’s cheeks flushed pink, but he shrugged playfully. “I mean, I try.”

The rest of the night felt lighter. The two of you walked through the garden, Han's hand still in yours, your tics still present but no longer a source of discomfort. Every now and then, Jisung would glance at you- never with pity, but with curiosity and something warmer, softer.

As the two of you stopped at the edge of the rooftop, overlooking the twinkling lights below, Jisung turned to you with a thoughtful expression.

“You know,” he said, his voice softer now, “I think this is my favorite blind date ever.”

You raised an eyebrow. “How many have you been on?”

“This is my first,” he admitted with a sheepish laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “But still! It’s gonna be hard to top…”

You raised an eyebrow, giving him an amused look.

“Not that I want it to be topped,” he continued quickly, a bit flustered. “I always kind of figured I’d be a one-and-done deal. Like my first is my last...and, I mean, it might be way too soon to say, but I think I lucked out with you…I kind of just feel it.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile couldn’t help but tug at your lips.

“Really, though,” Jisung added, his gaze earnest, eyes softening. “I had a great time tonight. And…if you’re up for it, I’d like to properly date you...”

“Even with my…” You gestured vaguely, your voice trailing off.

"Because of it," he corrected gently, his voice soft but unwavering. His eyes searched yours, full of warmth and something deeper that made your breath catch. "It's part of you- every piece of it. And I don’t just like who you are…I can easily see myself fall for you."

His words hung in the cool night air, wrapping around you like a tender embrace. For a moment, you couldn’t speak, your heart pounding so fiercely it was a wonder he couldn’t hear it.

“Jisung…” you murmured, your voice shaky but full of emotion.

He smiled, that familiar sheepish tilt to his lips, but his gaze stayed steady, unwavering in its honesty. “I don’t want this to be just a ‘one and done’ date. I want to keep getting to know you. To see where this could go. So that maybe you can be my one and done person.”

Your lips curved into a soft smile, your chest tightening with something you hadn’t dared to hope for. “Okay,” you whispered, the word carrying more weight than you expected. “I’d like that too.”

His grin widened, and the way he looked at you in that moment- like you were the only person in the world- made you feel like you could get used to this, to him, far too easily.

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[weeping-fairy]

My first lil writing. Just Spencer Reid smut

Please be constructive, this is literally the first time I've ever written something like this. MDNI 18+

It has crying, unprotected pnv, multiple orgasms, non specific body size, sorta friends to lovers, sorta sub spencer, and ya things like that.

word count: 3131

Spencer has always had a thing for you. 

Poor guy could never admit that though. I mean you, in his eyes, is probably the most stunning person he had ever seen. Its not like he would watch from afar, no you guys are good friends. Every time you guys hang out he has a new fact to tell you, wanting to impress you. He especially loves to tell you things that he knows you are interested in. If you talk about anything he's researching it, trying to understand it the way you do. Its his way of getting closer to you. Him being an intellectual, he loves learning your brain. Youve even taught him a few things, mostly about social interactions, something he is not too good at. He studies the way you effortlessly coast through an awkward situation, how you avoid saying certain things, how you know when to talk and when not to. Its absolutely fascinating to him, how much you know about strangers. He's a profiler, and he's glad he gets to use his training to learn you. 

Whenever he comes home, he always goes to you. This case was particularly hard for him as it hit close to home. He couldn't help but to think of you. The victims friend deeply in love with her. She died the day he was going to tell her. And he had the misfortune of interrogating him for her murder. 

Through tears he explains, "Please you have to believe me, I had nothing to do with this.." the man unable to breathe, Spencer interrupts:

"What did you do when you found out about her boyfriend?"

The subject completely dumbfounded, "Her what?"

Spencer could tell he was being genuine, he had no idea about any boyfriend, he didn't kill her in a jealous rage, he loved her, and she will never know how much. 

Spencer had wished that you were there, to change the subject, or maybe provide your calming presence for the troubled man. If anyone could get him out of this, it would be you. After that awkward interview he couldn't push you out of his mind, how similar this situation is to his own. You could die, and you will never know how he feels. He starts to overthink on the jet ride home. 

"I've waited too long, she wouldn't like me back." 

"It doesn't matter, nobody wants the burden of being with me, I'm never home, she deserves someone who could be by her side"

"And what if by some sort of miracle she likes me back? then what, my job will put her in danger. everyone that i touch is murdered. Maybe i should just stay away, it'll help the both of us"

You knew that Spencer must've been having a hard time. He always keeps tabs on you, texting you everyday, occasionally a call if he gone for more than a week. 

This time its different, he hasn't gotten back at all. Its not total silence, but its enough to get you worried. 

You decide to text: "Hey, I hope every thing is ok, you haven't been talking to me as much. I'm not upset, i know that sometimes cases get hard and draining. I just want to be there for you if you want to talk about it, or something else to get your mind off of it. I look forward to hanging out when you get back, stay safe!"

His response is cold, which only worsens your anxiety

"Just a hard case. Don't want to get into it."

That's all? Spencer is never like this, ever. You can feel your heart drop, tears form. 

"Did i do something? Did i push to far, hurt him by accident?" You start to cry, but still respond:

"That's ok, let me know if you need anything at all, alright?" No response. A day later you stopped by his place, unannounced. He opens the door, obliviously surprised that its you. His eyes widen, he always looks at you like that. It makes your stomach flip and your cheeks flush. 

"hey i hope this ok, i just missed you." you end the what felt like a long pause. He says nothing, instead moving out your way to let you in. Its like second nature, he cant even think when he lets you in, he just knows he needs you around. 

You enter the space, you've been there 1000x before but this time there's an undeniable tension, it makes you nervous. Your head swirling with negative thoughts, worried that he hates you, you must've said something to trigger this behavior right?

When you show up at his house he's in awe. He had been pushing you away, the newest case affecting him in ways that made him uncomfortable. Made him face feelings that he had known were there but pushed away. But there you were anyways, in his home, just you. It had been too long, and just your presence had put him at ease. Due to the abnormal distance from you he was also unbelievably turned on. This always happens on long cases, but usually he would call you, listen to your voice as you fall asleep. The soft, tired tone of your voice enough to make him cum without even touching himself. But this case was different, he pushed you away on purpose, and he had deprived himself of these small moments to keep his raging hormones at bay. He could text you or call you and then fuck his fist and act like he didn't just imagine you in a very compromising position. But now here you were, at his door. Your face flushed, eyes tired. You weren't wearing anything revealing, but that didn't stop him from imagining what was underneath the clothes. It took everything in him not to stare at the way your shirt stretched over your breasts. He moves aside to let you in, his eyes fall to your ass as you walk past him. Your scent trails behind you, it was subtle. Your perfume complimenting your natural scent perfectly. He watches as you turn to face him, your big eyes looking up at him, a pleading look in your eyes. You don't need to speak. 

"Im so sorry," he whispers. You cut him off.

"did i do something?" your voice threatening to break.

He thinks to himself "fucking idiot, she's about to cry because of you and the only thing you can think of is how you want to be buried between her thighs," his mind drifts for a second before responding, thinking about how heavenly your moans would sound muffled, your thighs pressed up against his ears. In fact he doesn't respond, all the pessimism that had plagued his mind, gone. Instead he steps forward and places a hand on your cheek. He looks at your lips and moves in. Just doing it. 

Feeling his hand on your face made your cheeks burn. A pool forms at the bottom of your stomach. Then he does it, he kisses you, a soft, surprised moan slips out. This only serves to turn him on more. Kissing you deeper now, your lips part just enough for his tongue to slip in. This makes you step back, your back is met with the closed door. He moves with you, caging you in. His hands move to your hips, gripping the soft fat of your hips. His hands creep under your shirt, feeling the warmth of your bare skin. You stop him,

"Wait," you say breathless, "what's going spencer?"

His forehead against yours, his eyes still closed, he begins to speak, years of feelings coming out in one single word:

"Please." Then his eyes blink open to be met with your own. Your pupils blown. You don't respond with words but a passionate kiss, your hands tangling in his hair. You dont know what led up to this, but that doesn't matter right now. Your mind consumed with the pleasure of his lips against yours. He starts backing away from the door, his hands still under your shirt, on your waist leading you to the couch. He sits down, holding you still looking up at you, he gently tugs you to straddle his lap. No words, just staring at each other with lust and longing. He holds your face in his hands and admires you. He kisses you again, gentle. He keeps your head in his hands and kisses from your lips, to your jaw, down to your neck. He cradles your head as he continues, moaning against your skin. The taste of just your skin is magnificent. You can feel his bulge press against you, at first you sit up a bit, but as you melt under his soft moans and gentle kisses, you sit down. The feeling of your bodies joining elicits a moan from the both of you. He moves his head from the crook of your neck to look at you, his face flushed. 

"I'm sorry, i cant help it, vie needed this for so long," he whines, bucking his hips against you. You meet him in the middle, grinding against him, your face falls to the crook of neck. 

He pleads "no no please, i need to see your pretty face"

You look at him. He leans back on the couch and keeps a firm grip on your hips, not guiding you, but keeping you firmly pressed against him. 

"yes yes please, god you are so beautiful," his voice breaking, tears forming. 

"please keep going, please i could cum just like this," tears falling now

You slow down a bit and hold his face, "what's wrong? spencer you are crying"

In a sheepish tone he responds, "please don't stop, i just need you so bad, you are all i think about please, please"

His hands tighten around your hips in an effort to get you back to the pace you were at before. But this doesn't work, you stop.

"Please spencer, what is wrong?"

A quiet sob comes out and he hugs you, "I just- this case. it made me think about you and I'm tired of pretending that everything you do doesn't affect me. Even the most insignificant things are like their kind of art when preformed by you. Ive written poems about the soft sound of your breathing when the conversation hits a lull. And i cant act like im not completely enchanted by you. I cant ever let you go without telling you that, without you knowing that i am completely smitten with you."

You hold him as he admits this, you would be lying if you said you didn't feel the same way. You hold him as he sobs.

"Spencer, lets go lay down ok?" You say as you stand up off of him. You lay in his bed and hold him, his ear placed against your heart he calms down. A comfortable silence falls between the both of you. you break it:

"Spencer?," you whisper, almost afraid to break the ease the quiet has provided.

"yes?" He responds in the same, yet more eager tone

"You know i love you too.." 

He looks up at you and kisses you, shifting his body on top of yours, then he stops himself:

"We can go slow, im sorry im just eager"

You reassure him, "No please, dont stop, i need this too."

He does not need to be told twice, the blood rushing to his groin as the words leave your mouth. He shifts between your legs and kisses your neck as he grinds against you. His ear at the perfect place to hear every one of the soft moans fall from your lips. He leaves open mouth, sloppy kisses against your neck, groaning at the taste of your skin. He desperately rubs against you, his hands going under your shirt, massaging your breasts. You buck your hips up, you moan his name and he stops, meeting your gaze. He gives a confused expression.

"take it off spencer, dont stop please"

He does, for a second his brain short circuits. Staring at you topless, it was better than he could've ever imagined. His face moves to the crook between your breasts. Kissin you with reverence. A whimper falls from his mouth with each kiss. Whispering sweet pleasantries' into your skin.

"you are so soft, so sweet"

"thank you so much, so beautiful" 

His mouth attaches to your nipple while his hand rests atop the other. Sucking your nipple into a hard bud, then doing the same to the other. As happy as he is right now he wants something more, he kisses down your body, gripping at the waist band of your pants and pulling them down. Its like hes in a trance. You aren't complaining, lifting your hips so he can pull everything off. He looks down at you, you look up at him. There's a vulnerability in your eyes, you are almost completely naked on his bed and he has yet to take anything off. He notices this and holds your face,

"whats wrong?" he questions further, "did i do something wrong?"

You assure him, "no no, just exposed is all and you aren't" You let out an awkward chuckle to bring light. He looks embarrassed as you bring this up, in his mind this was never about him, it was about you. He could cum in his pants by just sucking your breast all day if that's what you wanted. Although he craves your touch, it doesn't have the same effect as touching you. 

Hearing you. Tasting you. 

"You want me naked?" you cant help but to laugh at the question.

"well isn't that how this usually goes?" He smiles at you and rushes to take his clothes off. He just wants to get back to kissing you. You both share giddy giggles as he gets back on top of you. He kisses you, its sweet. Its beautiful, there's no fear. Nothing about spencer has ever frightened you, even when all he wants to do is ravage you he still stops and slows down. He always notices your face, hes studied every expression you make. With spencer you feel known. As the kissing gets deeper he moves to your neck and back down your body. Kissing where the waistline of your underwear sits. Then he moves his head between your legs, kissing your clothed cunt. Lapping up your clothed core. Finally he cant take it, he pushes your panties to the side and starts. He kisses it before he eats it, worshiping his meal. He might as well have said grace. His tongue delves into your folds. Your taste causing him to moan against you. the vibrations shoot through your body. He attaches to your clit, licking and sucking as his fingers graze your entrance. As he continues he cant help but to hump the mattress. He cant stop it. Your moans and the way your body reacts to his touch is all to much for him. And when his fingers dive in, that's it for him. He stops for a second to look at your face. 

"her face.." he thinks to himself. your face contorted with pleasure. You look up at him, his fingers working you from within and his thumb rubs your swollen clit. 

"Sp-spencer" over and over. Its the only word your know. The familiar coil tightens in your stomach. You are close. You grip his shoulders, tears threatening to fall from your eyes. 

"please just like that," you whine. Its spencers turn to plead,

"Please i wanna make you feel good, please cum for me"

Finally it hits you like a ton of bricks, you clench around his fingers as he slows his ministrations, working you through. As you cum you moan his name, its like heroin to him, he loves it. He brings his soaked fingers to his lips, sucking them clean. The sight is something out of a museum. Your own personal art, a snapshot that will etch itself into your memory. You pull him to you and kiss him. The both of you moan as your lips attach. Your hand palms him through his boxers, he bites your bottom lip as he moans. Your hand reaches in his boxers and works him. His tip sticky with pre-cum. He whimpers in your neck.

"spencer i need you, i need you in me" 

He immediately springs into action, removing your panties and his own boxers. He lines himself and looks at you as his tip slips in. The ecstasy on your face, the way you let your head fall, and your jaw goes lax. He slowly moves until he bottoms out. His own eyes flutter shut, tears forming. 

"so so warm" he mumbles as he starts to thrust harder. Hes not fast but he is deep, pounding in deep. It almost knocks the air out of you, for a scrawny guy his thrusts are powerful. Tears falling from his eyes he rambles

"dont make me stop, im not sad you just feel amazing, i need this please"

"its ok spencer please keep going, you feel so good."

He hides in your neck, his hips still moving. he whimpers in your ear

"so good, so pretty, god i love you so much, thank you, thank you." His movements grow sloppier, you are close too, but hes a lot closer. 

"spencer please just a little longer, mmso close" more tears fall from his eyes as he fights to not finish, he reaches between the both of you and starts to rub your clit. The extra stimulation is just what you need.

"f-fuck spencer im cumming"

He slams into you a couple more times then cums deep inside you. He bites your neck to hide the pathetic moan/sob that falls from his mouth. He stays sheathed within your warmth as he catches his breath. the occasional "thank you" and "i love you" whispers come from him as he calms down. As he pulls out a gasp comes from the both of you. He watches his essence seep out of you. Then looks at your face. Your spent, sweat glistens against your forehead, your hair a mess. You reach your arms out to him, and he lays next to you. You lay your head on his chest. 

"spencer, that was perfect," you say, your voice raspy and raw. 

"i hope so, ive thought about that a lot" he holds you, rubbing your back lazily. You sit in silence till he hears your soft snores. He chuckles to himself and makes sure the blankets are snug around the both of you. He shuts his eyes and falls asleep, listening to his new favorite white noise. 

If yall hate it or have any pointers lemme know! I hope everyone enjoys, i think its nice. I'm sorry if its confusing or anything i wrote it in like a stream of conciseness

[shiny-jr]

pure curiosity on my part but have you seen scully in twist? how do you feel about him so far? :3

Gojo look-a-like fool. I know I'm probably like the millionth person to say this. From what I've seen, he looks pretty cool. Personality wise though, I don't know anything about that.

I've been sort of drifting away from twst. Not the characters, but more so the game. I mean, even with the characters, I feel like I'm slowly adapting them in a way where the cast has a slightly different appearance and personality for them in my mind. I even once stated that I don't write them as teens, I specifically write them older, because I thought they were older when I was first getting into the fandom and such.

Okay, getting majorly off topic here, sorry. Anyways. If I have time, maybe I'll try to watch some gameplay of the event just to learn more about the character. I did like Rollo so maybe I'll really like Scully.

[asarigg]

I just wanna talk about how Aoba would navigate having DID...and how he would do it in regards to like Koujaku..and you're a like-minded individual 💪😼. Anyways anyways, in all seriousness I do headcanon Aoba has having DID. I'm pretty sure Sly is an alter (and that's another reason why he does go by Sly), and Shiroba could be an alter but I haven't thought about it all too much. I think in a domestic situation Aoba would have to learn to get along with Sly and not like surprise him or whatever because that would definitely make it worse. And while I think Sly got them into a lot of trouble during their teen years, I also see him as sort of the protector of them and of Aoba. I think that Aoba experienced a lot of trauma during his childhood and created Sly, but Aoba was not aware of Sly as an Alter until much much later in his life when he finds out he has scrap. I don't really have a theory yet for why Sly fronted for most of Aoba's teen years but I'm working on it. But I know that whenever Aoba got into his "accident" it kinda threatened Sly a little bit so he backed off of Aoba and just kinda let him be.

As for why I think he also acts a protector depending on the way you look at Sly, is for parts in the game where he fronts. Specifically during Mink's route, when Sly shows up I believe it was a way of protecting Aoba from experienceing further trauma. Sly did not want him to get anything negative from that situation. I do wish we got to see more of Sly in a less-violent light because I genuinely do believe he serves an important role in Aoba's life.

I think once Aoba becomes aware of Sly, he realizes that they need to learn to navigate life together because Sly isn't going anywhere. So this is where his life with Koujaku comes in...hear me out hear me out. I think that like sometimes while the two of them were going about life Sly just starts fronting sometimes and I think he likes to playfully tease Koujaku and just like messes around with him; not in a bad way but in an endearing way. I thinkSly gets jealous of Aoba sometimes, especially when he sees him getting positive attention from Koujaku. And on the other hand, I think Koujaku would originally have a hard time kinda getting along with Sly but after a while he becomes okay with him and realizes that if he truly loves Aoba he's gonna have to accept that Sly is always going to be a part of him.

This part is just kinda fluff but I think after Sly gets to know Koujaku, he's super lovey-dovey with him while he's fronting. So like he'll like to cuddle Koujaku and give him hugs and even pecks on the cheek; he also play's with Koujaku's hair a lot. I think Sly finds Koujaku's tattoos to be very interesting and likes to admire them a lot. I think that's all I have at the moment. Thanks for coming to Yap session.

I pretty much agree with almost everything you said haha

I don't know much much about DID but I've always seen Sly as the protector because like you said he always appears when Aoba's in trouble. Not only being physically attacked but also when he's mentally exhausted as we see in his adolescence and in Koujaku's bad ending. Aoba had experienced loneliness and abandonment twice already at the church, then his parents leaving him, so watching Koujaku go probably provoked him a substantial amount of anxiety and restlessness knowing what it meant and was scared of going back to those feelings. Mixed with actually being lonely, it was basically the cherry on top, making his mind step back to "rest" and Sly taking control because someone had to. Kinda funny that low key Koujaku provoked both of them? lol

I feel like the image people usually have of him, specially if they don't play the true route, makes them think that he comes out when there's violence because he likes it. Which, like, he does, but he doesn't take control because of that, he's just protecting Aoba. Makes me wonder why wouldn't he do the same when Aoba gets kidnapped by Vitrip, other than for the sake of kink I can only think that it would be giving them what they want I guess. It's not like they aren't satisfied anyway so it's ass regardless.

It's really nice to think about Aoba realizing that and coming at peace with Sly. I guess he has two protectors, Sly protects him from outsiders, and Ren protects him from himself. And ABSOLUTELY, I wish we had more of Sly ugh 😭😭

I'm always thinking about all the possibilities on how would Sly behave and interact with Aoba and Koujaku in the good ending and I'm always changing stuff, but as you mentioned him messing with Koujaku and being jealous gets in the mix almost every time. I feel like he'd have a lot of trouble confronting his feelings towards Koujaku and not being able to accept them, specially considering that when he gets to control their body it's mostly in a violent environment, so when he meets Koujaku's tenderness it creates conflict. I've always seen the "them not getting along" in the beginning coming mostly from this, so I think it would be more of a Sly causing trouble thing, although I have to confess sometimes I have trouble with this. As a Slyjaku soldier when I read Slyjaku fics in the trenches many times this conflict was written as some really aggressive interaction based on how much Koujaku would hate him for not being sweet and istg *turns around and cries*. The game's writing didn't do the greatest job and it's so widespread that Koujaku gets angry easily when in reality it was mostly for Aoba's well being.

Considering the advances he does with his trauma throughout their relationship and what he says about "loving Sly" when Aoba "mentions" him he'd have a much better reaction to him. I feel like after the initial shock of knowing that the "arrogant and violent" personality Aoba was talking about was actually a real thing he'd try to get to know him, but he doesn't really know what to act like in front of him because he gets mixed reactions from Sly. He'd give him space to express himself and have time to open up, because it seems like Sly rejects his friendlier advances. He ultimately understands him as a different person so maybe Sly doesn't really want to be with him.

Sly on the other hand was kind of already there (?) when they met so he does have memories of him. I wonder if he'd blame him somehow for leaving. If, like Aoba, he had feelings for him deep down for longer than he'd like to admit. So living a tender, comfortable life makes him feel weird, not having to fight someone for once is weird, he isn't used to it, so he rejects it. Something in him wants it, another doesn't, so his reaction towards it is a mix of both as well. He wants Koujaku's love, he needs it, but he feels like it's fake, that he doesn't deserve it, it isn't for him. Even tho it's his distorted vision, maybe Koujaku's forcing it, but doesn't really feel it, because when he sees the way he acts with Aoba it's completely different. To him Koujaku's always been there, but he just met Sly so of course he's more distant. Anyway I think I'm talking too much and I'm losing track of what I'm writing to be honest.

I have a small hc about Sly and Koujaku's tattoos. Aoba kisses his tattoos and scars to try heal his wounds and his memories because he doesn't want Koujaku to suffer. I like to think that when Sly looks at them instead of feeling sorry for him like Aoba does, the thought that runs around his head is mostly just annoyance about the idea that Koujaku might think about someone else that is not him. So Aoba kisses them to make Koujaku think of his caresses instead of the pain, and Sly would do some Sly thing like disgustingly licking them or biting them so when he sees his tattoos he thinks of him instead of literally anything else because the only thing that should be filling his thoughts is Sly ☝ or something like that

[heteromerous-rhyming]

i think that i've figured out why i don't like show sally.

ok like don't get me wrong, virginia kull?? she ATE with that interpretation. her acting?? amazing. like i could truly get the core of her character.

it's just that i don't like the character the writers give us.

cw: discussion of abusive relationships, of toxic family dynamics, probably a good bit of generational trauma. I don't really get into details except with stuff shown on the show and written in the books but i wanted to be safe.

as someone from an immigrant household, as someone whose mom works a part time minimum wage job, as someone whose seen and been there as my parents fought, i just really really dislike sally's portrayal in the show. and it's partly because of poseidon and partly because of gabe (mostly because of her character in general but yeah, lets get the men out of the way first)

I feel strongly about poseidon in his relationship to sally very specifically. i don't mind his relationship to percy either books or show. but it's pretty damn clear to me that this show was written by someone who's never experienced sally's situation, of being the single working parent with an absentee partner (or in gabe's case a partner who literally ahHHHHHh). because from the beginning, from sally's reaction and snark to gabe, I felt like something was wrong or off, and it was Specifically the show because i read the books and i watched (some) of the musical and i never felt that way towards either of those. i'm not saying that my family situation is sally's (don't have a god for a father for one), but. by all accounts sally knows that this is an abusive relationship, the only reason that she's with gabe is because of the protection he offers percy. i have to assume that this is true because sally jackson turning gabe to stone is something i'm assuming is staying in the show, and i remember this being mentioned by grover? or someone in the first few episodes. and the cord that struck in me was not the traditional (that is, visible, defined, i don't like this word but i don't have a better one) abusive relationship but relationships in my community, of women staying with husbands because of their children, women outright saying this, women who know the world is cruel to single women and to single mothers specifically. sally, to me has never been under any illusions that gabe is any sort of relationship material. she has never been under any illusions that poseidon would be able to help in any way.

and that crux of sally's relationships made her first scene in the show all that more jarring. but it's not anything specifically that i can put a finger on. and maybe i'm wrong for this or maybe i'm expecting too much. but. sally doesn't have the resentment or the quietness or the bitterness or even the loudness that i expected. you have been the only true caretaker for your child, the only one in the house that really puts food on the table and on top of that is expected to do emotional labor? to cook and clean or at least pick up the food?

but she treats gabe like he's an annoyance. someone to brush off. and you see the manipulation tactics from gabe, you do, but.

its not that i want sally's spirit to be crushed. my mother's spirit wasn't crushed. the women in my community, they laugh, they cry, they watch silly tv shows, they have lives that they live, and in many cases they live well.

but the women that i know are also angry. they are either on fire or they used to burn. when they banter with their partners it often turns ugly because they are tired of the same damn argument day after day, because often the trivial things that are asked are compounded and compounded and compounded because you live in the same house, there is no escape, there is no private space, not really.

it's new york and sally works a job to support an apartment and her family. they are not well-off. sally has no support network we can see, and how could she? poseidon mentions that she has no one to talk to about these things, her parents are clearly out of the picture. all this to say. there is a certain understanding of class that exists within the books that was excised, i believe unknowingly, from the show, and it is the worse for it. there is a tiredness, a worn-down-ness from being low income that sally had in the books, but in the show i only see a struggling first time single parent. i don't see the complexity of a woman who literally gave up on finding a fulfilling relationship to be with a man for her child. i don't see the complexity of a woman working fulltime and still getting demanded from at home. and i didn't realize that I wanted to see that until I saw the show. i didn't realize that that was what i loved about the books.

i hate that they tried to bring poseidon back into sally's life as this perfect man who through cosmic forces can't help. i hate that sally calls him, i hate that he says he'll listen. but most of all i hate that sally just accepts him, falls into him. it's really hard to be a mother when your partner doesn't seem to help you parent in any way, even if he cannot help you. he's a greek god, there's no way in hell that he can begin to understand the lengths that sally has gone through to sacrifice and survive, the very human things that she's done. sally in the books thinks of poseidon as a sweet memory, almost a fairytale, and it's clear that this story is the one that brings her comfort. poseidon is a one night stand, a sweet stranger, she understands he's not coming back. but this poseidon comes when sally calls, and that i cannot believe. i cannot believe that she still thinks of him as the fairytale man, that she accepts him so easily if there isn't that distance. i cannot believe that there is no resentment, that she still puts faith in him as her god (the first episode when she talks about him just felt so wrong to me) if he's not a memory, but a recurring figure. this is not a story of star-crossed lovers, sally feels too real as a human being for that.

sally finds trust, finds contentment, in the books after percy leaves home, after she no longer has to put up with gabe for his safety. she does not find poseidon again. she marries a human man, a very ordinary human man who cares for her. poseidon visits after she is in this relationship and its an amicable one. he is percy's father but also distant memory all in one. sally has the strength to survive a terrible relationship and still find a way to heal and live fully after that.

but the anger. the fire was there. she turned gabe to stone. she reclaimed her life with her two hands.

you don't kill a man for no reason. you don't kill a man without emotion.

but it's that reason and that emotion that i don't get from the writer's room. and it just makes me deeply sad.

[xreaderbooks]

Reward | Leo Valdez

Summary: Reader has had enough to worry about without her boyfriend coming to ask her for help with a homework assignment.

based on this request

Warnings: Language, Aged-up, fluff, making out like constantly, very slight angst, readers bad at math (cuz i'm bad at math and i cant fake it for the fic)

Word Count: 1.8k

PJO/HOO Masterlist | Navi | Masterlist of Masterlists

"You want me to help you?" A quizzical look befell your face as you look up from your spot under the shaded tree. You sat by the edge of the lake, you were taking a quick break hiding from the younger campers who wanted to train with you as you were a crowd favorite with the new arrivals. You just needed a recharge, a moment away from the energy that overexerted you. "Of all people?"

Leo rolled his eyes, "Who else?"

You snorted, "Cabin 6 is that way." You pointed and nodded your head in the direction of the Goddess of Wisdom's cabin, filled with the brightest minds and much better options to help Leo with his current request.

"C'mon baby, please?" Your boyfriend pouted and lowered his chin to gain your favor with his golden brown eyes that, you were afraid to admit, made you weak. 

"But I'm tired and I want to take a nap, using my brain will probably kill me at this point." 

He knelt with outreached hands, you allowed him to hold both of your palms in his own, you should have known better. He used his strength to pull you up from the ground and brought you to his chest, his hands settled on your hips. 

Instinctively you looped your arms around his neck and rolled your head to the right, tilted perfectly for him to mold his lips to yours. And he did, pecking chaste kisses onto your lips, pleading with you to join him in Bunker 9.

"I suppose I could be persuaded," You nudged your nose against his. 

~~~

The moment you arrived inside the bunker and saw his work table, normally filled with scattered tools and mechanical pieces that were in the process of being fixed or tweaked, was now littered with papers. 

Leo's homework was divided into five different sections that had their respective piles. "By some miracle, I finished everything else, now all I'm missing is this." He reveals papers that were held behind his back.

"Math." You skim the equations on the document in your hands, nothing on this page was anything you would be able to help him with. 

The smirk on his face made you glare at him and fold your arms stubbornly, "Yup," Leo rolled two chairs over to the desk that felt like your new timeout spot. 

"Honestly, I feel like I shouldn't be subjected to torture because you decided to take courses over the summer." 

"What happened to 'you die, I die'?" He reiterated the phrase you had spoken to him as a sort of mantra during the war. Your jaw dropped at the use of them being thrown back in your face and quickly shut it close. 

"In the face of war!" You exclaimed and shrugged it off, "Just for that, you can die alone."

"I did, it wasn't my vibe," He twirled a strand of your hair, and let it fall back into place, stepping back with a hand on his hip leaning the other on the table. "Aren't you testy today?"

"It's been a day, the kids were hard to gather and once I had them riled up they wanted to learn this specific trick they've seen me do but how many times can I let them down gently and tell them they need to learn the basics- drills that they've repeated hundreds of times, that some still aren't getting and will possibly die if they get caught by a monster if they don't get-" You inhale deeply, "So what do I do? I let them learn the hard way to get it through their heads that it's not as simple as it looks and I've only managed after years of fucking practice. And you know what?"

"What?" You wanted to smack the amused smirk off of Leo's pretty face. 

"They didn't pick it up like I knew they wouldn't, now they hate me but still wanna train with me because they still want me to teach them. My body is sore, I'm tired and I hate you for making me do homework," You pout. 

He approaches you with caution, slowly caressing your cheeks in his hands, he presses his lips against yours that were currently being smushed together by his hands. It was a quick but meaningful kiss, only for him to say "I'm going to fail if I don't get this done."

"Leo!" You push him away from you. "What the hell do you mean, you're going to fail, you've been cooped up in here all summer!"

A sheepish smile and pink-dusted cheeks appear at your sudden outburst, he chuckles nervously knowing he just put the cherry on top of your already bad day. "I've been behind on a couple of assignments and I've finished most of them already, I'm mostly caught up"

"Mostly?" You were going to strangle him. You haven't spent much time together lately because of his homework. He decided to take summer classes to get ahead, and he's been busy ever since. You were constantly teaching the younger campers, and helping out around camp, whether in the infirmary or setting up activities to keep busy and you loved it but you missed your boyfriend. 

"But Nyssa had this project she'd been working on and I couldn't help it."

You rolled your eyes and sighed, you couldn't be upset with him- not completely, you understood how hard it was for Leo to stay focused on a task that wasn't something he could physically tinker with, but there had been moments where you wanted to just be with him in his presence and you stopped yourself from going to him knowing that you'd only be a distraction. 

"I promise this is the only one left," He takes your hand and leads you to sit on a chair then sits in another one next to you. 

"I'm so annoyed with you right now," You snatch the paper and look over the equations. 

An hour and a half into the 50-question work packet, you and Leo moved to the mattress lifted by wooden pallets used for shipping crates. 36 out of 50 equations were done, with work shown, Leo had barely any trouble working on it as he was naturally good with numbers you weren't sure you were needed at all. 

You solved a couple for him when he got bored and started leaving trails of kisses from your cheek to your neck and shoulder, you were sure the answer was right and took a break, though when he pulled out of his dazed and loving state he looked over it and kissed you deeply.

"What was that for?" You asked in a whisper. 

"A reward," He held your chin with his forefinger and thumb, pecking your cheek. "For helping me with my homework."

"Well, if I don't help you get this done, who will?" 

"Malcolm and I are pretty tight," Leo has a deep stare on your lips, his thumb swipes your swollen bottom lip. "You've also got eight of them wrong, Mi Amor." 

"I did nine of them," You did the math- that you weren't good at in your head, piecing together that you indeed sucked. "Why'd you ask me to help you, if you knew that I couldn't do math."

"I wanted to be around you, it's been a while since we've been alone." He toys with the bracelet he gifted you on your first anniversary, five charms for the five years you've been together since you confessed your feelings at age 17 after the war ended. You met at age 15 when Annabeth brought him to camp, and the rest is history. 

"I'm still annoyed at you, you know, just because I've let you kiss me a couple of times doesn't mean-" He cuts you off with another kiss like earlier, catching you off-guard, intense and full of feeling. You immediately kiss back, not having the willpower to not, succumb to the charms he begrudgingly has on you. 

You deepen the kiss by entangling your hands in his hair pulling his impossibly closer, it was a synchronized dance at first, the years of being used to the pattern of each other's kiss being shown in the heavy minutes of your mouths moving together in passion. It soon became heated, teeth clashing, tongues moving sloppily, mouths chasing each other after breaking apart two seconds at a time for breath. 

Leo gently laid you on your back, breaking apart to take off his shirt, the moment it slipped off you brought him down to you, he fit perfectly between your legs. You gasp at the sensation of him grinding against you. He parts his lips from yours, to which you whine softly. He licks a stripe from your neck to your jaw and sucks until he's satisfied with the way you sigh and rock your body up and clutching onto the blades on his shoulders on his back. 

He repeats licking, sucking, and kissing soft kisses as an apology for the spots he bit until you were sore.

You pull away from him and flip your bodies so that you are on top, you grab his wrists and pin them to the top of the pillows to see his reaction and wanting to be in control for a while. You gave him the same treatment and brought your body lower so that you could kiss all over his chest and back up. 

You sat up to breathe fresh air, straddling him and releasing his hands only for him to intertwine his hands with yours and play with your fingers. He bucks his hips up playfully, and you jump slightly, your eyes widen for a second, and your lips turn up in a grin. 

"You've gotten better at not... you know," You hint at the control Leo's gained with his fire powers. Heated makeouts like this were often interrupted by the smell of smoke or his skin feeling feverish. 

He lets go of your hands and places his larger hands on your hips, you ignore the butterflies that flutter in your heart and stomach at the way he rubs up your waist and hips. "My hair was steaming earlier, I was hoping you didn't notice, thankfully you didn't or this would've been awkward."

"It's not awkward when that happens Leo, it's a little funny, to be honest, part of the reason why I love you." You tell him earnestly, "Nothing's awkward with you, you're my best friend." 

"I love you," Leo responds with unwavering eyes on yours. "I'm sorry for the time we lost."

"It's okay, we were just making up for it." 

~~~

holy gods, I haven't read this series in forever 

I feel like it's a crime to admit I haven't read the new book yet, i'm rereading the series and waiting for the episodes to come out before i watch the show so im going in timeline order... just wanted to let y'all know. oh, and also i haven't fully read the trials of apollo which i know has info on where the HoO people are at in their lives that i'm not aware of...

[besiegedhunter]

I've been thinking this since the Technical Test came out however the Beta finally made me talk about it so: Wulfgard, the Lupo guy who was revealed all the way back in the announcement trailer, is he not like Endfield's version of Projekt Red?

Like obviously he's not the Revoyager version of Red but like, what got me to talk about this was some cgs found in the Beta's files and this one specifically:

This reminds me of Red so much. A child presumably compelled to murder by a Signori, use a knife and having gray fur and a glowing red eye? That was Red when she was younger. You don't even have to squint to imagine this was in Arknights proper.

But I wanted to go through the points to this because genuinely there's so much. For example:

See how one of his shoulders is black and the other Red? Well Red's coat is the exact same:

I also want to mention how Red's shirt works because the back is extended and Wulfgard's coat cuts off halfway down his torso but the back of his coat continues down to his calves.

Then for some other points:

He's consistently shown using knives. There's that cg but on his model he has knives, he using a knife to kill a boss in the beta (forgoes his pistols entirely for this), in the Technical Test he has an idle where he uses his knife on his mask and his sprite back then doesn't feature the greatsword he uses but has him holding a knife (also having two on his person):

His eyes which are more orange/gold consistently glow and I mean glow red, appearing both in his idle and a cutscene. Now, we've not seen Red's eyes glow in a cg, the anime etc but I think it's worth noting that Red's S2 has her eyes glow red:

Also in a similar vein is the effects that they use. In the cutscene where we first meet Wulfgard in the Beta he's moving pretty fast, fast enough to create a red trail behind him or perhaps it's indicative of something going on:

Which again we don't particularly see Red have but she is known for being fast and if you pay close attention to her S2's effects during the animation:

There is a red blur to her which mind you is not a blur to her model or particularly anything of that sort. I'd also hesitate it's part of the explosion she causes when she lands but regardless it's different than the effect for her S1:

This effect is used for most operators I believe when you deploy them and as such, being noticeably different from her S2 suggests there's more to the effects used.

More to this and our next point is Red in the animated trailer for Arknights. In it she uses arts which she uses to propel herself and attach to the wall:

Which I feel this is what Red's S2 is depicting, for example it looks like the explosion in it as well:

But another thing that it looks like is the next cutscene of Wulfgard and we see this:

He moved incredibly fast during that attack with his knife, seemingly propelled forwards which is pretty different than Red's but frankly we don't know much about what Red's capable of.

And then Wulfgard's actual personality because it's weirdly like Red as well, so from his files. I'll make points as we go along:

The theme to Red's character is her immaturity (see her token being a baby tooth), and so Wulfgard's maturity being brought up and opposite is curious.

Red naturally knows the wilderness extremely well due to her being raised out there. Red says that she would rather work on her own and would excel in those missions. Also Wulfgard at this point in time used a claymore mind you but he's good at stealth which is not something you'd expect just looking at him.

Here I just want to point out that his reflexes in particular are being commented on as Red's is also and uh it's an understatement to comment on how sharp they are is all I'll say.

Here he's a topic of discussion primarily for how dangerous he is which reminds me of how Red is well known for going on the most dangerous missions and how Red is dangerous if you get too close to her.

But also that Perlica is vouching for Wulfgard and if he does have a Signori because it's vaguely similar to Red with Kal'tsit and Ascalon wherein they value her abilities and also are investing in her. Beyond that though I doubt it's similar, though if Wulfgard largely works for Perlica that could.

Then this! I was saying he was like Red due to this before his makeover.

He avoids social situations himself, something that he prefers. Not many people actually know of him. As I said above, largely only Perlica deals with him and then: social distancing.

Like I'm unsure whether it's the same as how Red feels about people getting close to her but it's such a curious line for me that it needed to be specified.

That's all the points that I have. I don't have access to the beta to see his voicelines for if the files are the same but as is this is a weird amount of similarities to Red. If she ended up becoming a Revoyager down the line it'd be so strange.

Like him and Red are almost as alike as Chen and Ch'en.

Which then lastly I want to mention how strange it is that he is the seeming fourth member to the main Endfield squad if you will. I can't confirm whether he is either but he is featured prominently and is in a decent bit of the story from I can tell.

Like you have the Endministrator/Player who is just the Doctor from Arknights. Perlica is very much like Amiya from the surface, the face of the game/actual main character. Chen is Ch'en who is one of the main protagonists of at least the Reunion arc and hugely important to the game. And then Wulfgard who more than anything is similar to Red?

Like Texas would make more sense probably but it's Red which I mean look at my account, I absolutely think Red is important and should be important. It's just curious if Wulfgard is purposefully similar to Red and is making the Signori story closer to the main story of Endfield.

That said I'm hoping Siracusa 3 does similar to Red but we'll have to wait for that.

[fyeahstormandwolvie]

So I've been drawn back to Storm 3... and I wanted to ask your opinion on the panel with Ororo and Rouge and the way some people are reading the panel as if Ororo is ashamed and disgusted by sleeping with Logan.

maybe I'm in too deep lol but knowing the rolo dynamic and knowing not only how close & understanding they are of each other but how they keep their relationship lowkey... that panel doesn't read as regretful to me at all. Ororo mentions that she set a path for herself... similar to how logan always has in the past, when they have their mind set on something they don't let anything stand in their way especially. to me the only thing I think ororo regrets is being open to be with him in that way again knowing she was leaving when the week ended even if Doom didn't send for her. She wants to be there with her x-family, with logan... but she set a path for herself, she announced herself to the world and it would feel wrong (to her) to push that all to the side just to relax with the people she loves... very similar to how logan is lol.

Murewa left that panel with so many ways for people to interpret it. I find it interesting that people concluded that Ororo is disgusted with sleeping with logan when the last panel shows Ororo looking sorrowful and saying "I'm sorry logan". if she felt bad for sleeping with him I'm very sure she would have told him before leaving... as if they hadn't slept together before, as if they haven't run off and handled business in the past, as if they both don't understand that when it comes to them being together they take any time they can get cause there's never enough time for them... shes sorry for having to leave not for sleeping with him LMFAO!

the narrator specifically explains the situation as "matters of the heart" and singles out logan as "her old lover" and the rest as her friends. the dialogue on the last day of fighting basically reads as "you know me and i know you", the way rolo love to bond by fighting... even with her situation, she could have spent the entire issue with Kurt and Remy, getting to know the kids... i just feel like the issue was very intentional whether it was to give us closure from the last time they were together or to give us some sort of foundation for the future for whatever could come about with them... do i think anything will happen with them soon, no. but i feel like there's potential for something to grow. i don't think this is the last time we'll see Logan in this comic... this is the first time (i think) we've seen them together where Ororo is in control of how the relationship moves, its usually the other way around.

Let's not even talk about how Logan probably definitely heard the whole conversation btw Ororo and the bird, Ororo and Rouge... again if you don't know the dynamic you'd read it as if it was a one-night stand but we know he trusts her enough to take care of herself and knows she'll call if she needs help... which is why he was so calm when he specifically called out Rogue in the morning and asked her if Ororo left... they both know why she left and how she felt before leaving.

idk... sorry for rambling lmfao but it just rubbed me the wrong way that people would rather claim ororo was out of her mind and dumb that she would just fuck Logan, her close friend and it be normal for her to be disgusted by sleeping with someone she trusts... cause if that was the case she could have just slept with anyone else... lmao

Hi! Always happy to chat about things like this (and welcome people to chime in in the replies/reblogs!) - I like that Murewa doesn't spell everything out for us, and we can make our own interpretations based on the text and the context of the art and what happened!

I don't think she's ashamed or disgusted that it happened at all, and that's saying it even without a biased lens. She might have regrets, which I think tracks with her tendency to overthink literally everything (she has so many Thoughts, All The Time - I think she's on record as having the most internal thought thought-bubbles throughout the Claremont run), and maybe she regrets that it happened on a whim, during a visit that she knows won't even last that long. She only planned to be around for a week, and she sleeps with him on a spur of the moment? Knowing that she'll leave in like a day (on this case, sooner than a day lol) because her current plan is to idk.. establish herself as a solo and unattached/uncommitted to the brand even if she's literally safest with the X-Men haha

I don't think they'll get together for real either, not now. I do think j she's gonna get (ironically) the Wolverine treatment where she's single and unattached so that she can have different relationship dynamics with different people. Like Batman and Spider-Man get similar treatment and can run into exes and maybe-lovers all the time. She's hot, and free! Let us see her how she'll navigate being the most wanted woman in the universe!!

I don't know if this actually answered anything lol. Please feel free to add comments in this! Just be nice and please don't say hateful things about other characters and other ships here, let's keep things civil and cool 💕

[yeehawpim]

What's your process in making comics

And how do you make something so good with such a simple art style!? 🥺

(if this has been asked before could you send a link to the post?)

Alright so ive been sitting on this ask b/c I already know it's a long answer aflskdjf

Write dialogue/text down in my notes app Sometimes it's just me sitting there like hghghg as music plays and I stare at my phone for 10min. Usually it's 12am thinking about stuff while I'm in bed and I type some piece of dialogue down real quick. I'm nowhere near as comprehensive as comic script I've seen online that they give examples for, like there's no direction on what's happening in panels or anyth because it's just for myself and I just sort of remember composition ideas if I have them on the spot

Literally start drawing 😂 As previously said I sometimes go into comics with comp ideas already, like for this one I knew I was going to divide the page going in. Or like I know this is gonna be 4 panels and pretty static. Other stuff I fully wing it sentence to sentence because I can't bother with thumbnailing 😅 sometimes this bites me on the ass because I spend forever drawing smth I have to toss, but I've gotten better at doing stuff fast

I use photoshop, so for vertical comics I've been following this tutorial for years

Vertical comics are a lot easier to structure composition-wise for me, I started out making those because it was less intimidating

The red arrow is your eye direction as you read it. For me it's always the bottom of a page is one less boundary to worry about. You can be less precise if the reader is automatically drawn to looking down b/c they're scrolling and never sees a full page laid out. 😂 Also if I want to pace something slower/further down I don't have to worry about having to cram it in y'know?

This might be a weirdly specific thing to mention but I'm always thinking about it when I make comics because...

lol I gotta make up for being too lazy to spend more than 30 seconds drawing a character

jkjk but yeah my interests are more in slapping the story in my head on the page. I like doing compositions and writing stuff that interests me. I get tired when I spend too much time fiddling with stuff, so if I can get smth across with a rough estimation I'm happy. This does limit the type of stories that can be told cuz certain more rendered styles just work better when you're trying to convey certain things but! there's lots of things you can do drawing simply too!

there's defs more stuff out there that doesn't follow what I'm doing, lots of different styles. Eg American superhero comics are super text-heavy and boggle my mind. This is just what I like to do cuz I like reading way too much manga/webtoons lol

you don't have to be super technical to make comics! go out there and make one if you've got an idea!

if you want to of course haha

hope this explains my process a little (thank you for the compliment it means a lot 🤠🙏)

[cosmic-vacuum]

Introduction.

Heard someone online say this— "The right DIRECTION is actually more important than HARD WORK itself."

The first step to "working smart" is also stepping in the right direction.

Hard work directed towards unproductive and degenerative activities is equivalent to stalemate in the specific field if not further degradation.

HOW SO, DO WE STEP IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION?

Step 1: Have a talk with yourself about what you really wish to do.

My talks before starting this usually ended up in tears.

I've been failing in life altogether for over two years now and all the cumulative criticism combined with regrets and embarrassments fueled defense mechanisms and avoidance techniques to develop inside me.

The talk was obviously hard, but finally I've opened myself to opinion and change recently— this in itself is the greatest change a human being can have.

It wasn't easy, of course.

I was supposed to fight down my own behaviour and impulsive reflexes to understand words and opinions of the other people around me whilst not being swayed completely by them or even rejecting them completely.

This is one of those things easier said than done.

It was talking to myself more that led to this.

The only person who can reach the inner voice of your consciousness is you. This voice is the most truthful and genuine guide you can find, only, you must know to separate it from words materialised by intrusive thoughts.

Sit with yourself, talk to yourself, ask yourself what you want to do.

It may take a while, but you will surely get response when you try to connect to your inner self.

Step 2: Get into what you wish to accomplish— know more.

Reasearch about your goal. We can't start into something we barely know about.

2024 is a great year to live in but only for the seekers.

You'll find everything you need to know about anything online today, all you need to have is the desire to see.

This is the first step to "Smart Work" too.

[Smart work: works only when applied with hard work. It's not the other way around— you can not replace hard work by smart work]

We will be revisiting this several times in times ahead so don't worry if there are unanswered questions [you can always comment or dm them to me].

Step 3: This is probably the TRUEST of all advise I've heard growing up– You're the average of the five people you listen to everyday.

I have personally seen so many people change for the worse on having bad company surrounding them.

It's easier for people yo pick up bad behaviours rather than good ones so no matter how selfish it would make you feel, cross out bad influences from your life

If you happen to be someone mostly at home and in presence of parents or siblings (like me), try to make firstly, your pwn mind your best companion. When there's problems, talk about it to your own self.

It's magical, trust me.

This takes time to get a hang of but it's magical.

Other than that, fill your ears with podcasts or perhaps you tube videos of people who are wise and/or related to your specific goal.

[I will be sharing a list of thr best podcasts to hear for personal growth later in a separate post.]

Step 4: Have a proper plan.

How you spend your minutes, hours, days, months and therefore the years becomes how you ultimately spend your life.

A— Take either a calendar or just draw out the months which compose your selected "two month" time.

B— Write your goal on a piece of paper and formulate a monthly procedure to achieve it.

If this goal is some sort of skill development for example, divide the procedure into the two months and then further down to weeks. Then, divide the workload per day of the week.

This is also applicable for students preparing for some or the other sort of examination or are just studying in general.

C— People who wish to upgrade their personalities will be part of a more active process which will run alongside the daily log posts.

WHAT NEXT?

Once we've got all we wish to change outlined, we can step into finally starting the process.

This turned out to be longer than I expected so I'll keep it till here. Anything else we need to do will follow in the following posts.

If we wish, we can.

[check out the blog to join the journey]

[cult-of-the-eye]

Something horrifying occurred to me today. If my father was a fictional character, people would think of him in a similar way people see Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute. Here's why:

He has had So Much Shit happen to him. Like Jesus Christ. Like string of unfortunate deaths kind of shit. Like how is this man still functional kind of shit.

He's also had such an interesting childhood and life he's such a wildcard like my dad randomly telling us how he smuggled some guys over the border when he was like 19 is giving the same vibes as Jonathan Sims saying he knows what a meme is

That's not to say he's a huge badass or anything (he is but for the sake of this comparison) he was terrified out of his mind the whole time and did it cause he was feeling homesick and was like I know how these guys feel so I'm gonna help. Giving trademark Jonathan "gonna do it but gonna do it shaking like a wet dog" Sims

He's a skinny brown guy who's kinda quiet, supremely awkward and makes dorky jokes

I asked him if he would still love me if I were a worm and he deadass said only if you went to worm Cambridge. Tell me that's not a Jonathan Sims thing to say.

He's probably autistic (he won't talk to you unless you mention something specific and then you can't stop him talking about the geopolitical situation of Bangladesh)

He's so emotionally constipated. My dude has never heard of emotions ever. He once gave me the advice that the way to deal with negative emotions about our shitty situation is to just compare it to poor peoples' lives in Bangladesh and thank god we don't have it that bad. I think he's allergic to therapy.

He's always in some sort of pain. God hates him personally.

He's the most anxious man I've ever met in my life. I think he lies awake at night just planning how he's gonna get through the next day. Like all he does is overthink and eat his own curated mixed nuts snack

He indulges in a funny cat video once or twice

He hates dogs (growing up in Bangladesh will do that to you but also he's not good with the barking)

Saying that, has bonded with one crusty white dog, who he immediately picked up although i don't think he meant to do that, so we get a situation of quite a tall man holding a small dog but both of them looking Absolutely Terrified.

He's such a baby fiend. I've never seen someone so hell bent on being a grandfather. We went to a family party with him once and not even 5 minutes in, we found him holding a baby. I'm taking @lonelyslutavatar 's baby fever Jon as canon btw.

He's constantly in business casual. He'll be in bed wearing slacks. It's not cause he's fashionable but in fact only because those are pretty much the same clothes he's owned since 2005 and the only clothes he owns.

Nobody is quite sure what he does for a living. Like sure we know his job title (I had to look it up on LinkedIn) but his day to day activities? A mystery. Who actually knows what being a Head Archivist entails? Not me.

I rest my case. For now.

[femdemon]

While I'm posting about my experiences with transandrophobia, I feel like people are weird about headcanoning characters as transmasc specifically. Like, obviously, there's your regular old gender and sex based bigotry a lot of the time about headcanoning any character as being anything other than strictly cis, perisex, and gender conforming, but people who allege to be progressive and open-minded get really weird and hostile about transmasc folks specifically seeing ourselves in fictional characters.

Like, okay. I've seen people say, "If you're only headcanoning overtly feminine characters as transmasc and overtly masculine characters as transfem, and you yourself are cis or whatever, maybe you should ask yourself why and whether or not you might have some internalized binarism you need to work on." And this is true, and good to point out! But then I've seen other people take this very good and true message and do some medicalism, gender essentialist bullshit to it like, "Yeah! Stop headcanoning feminine characters as transmasc altogether! Especially if you're a gender non-conforming transmasc person who heavily relates to the character in question and see a lot of yourself in said character. Don't you wanna be taken seriously by Normal People? Don't you wanna be seen as a Real Man? You can't headcanon this character as transmasc, then. Obviously, they're a trans woman, actually, like it's practically canon. In fact, you're Committing An Erasure if you headcanon this character as any gender other than a trans woman, and this is a crime that can never be forgiven and must be punished with Shunning until you admit that you're wrong."

And, like, I'm not saying that this never happens with other headcanons, I've absolutely seen it happen with other queer identities, I just see it a lot with respect to my own gender and I feel like it's bizarrely frequent. Why exactly are people so threatened by even just the idea that a character could be interpreted as transmasc? Why do people get this heated about basically any fiction or insist that it has something to do with representation when it was never canon to begin with? Some random person online who definitely isn't the author isn't in control of the story or characters, and it does nothing to the canon for them to have an opinion or idea about it that you don't like. I know that not everybody has gotten the "fandom isn't activism" memo yet, but even still, it just strikes me as really strange to sort of gatekeep who's allowed to relate to certain characters, or even just imagine them in ways that are different from fanon.

It kind of feels a lot like that thing people do where they're like, "Oh, the aces and aros want some characters they can see themselves in, we'll just give them the aliens and robots (never humans) and such, that should be enough." And then when we're like, "Okay, yeah, I can definitely see a lot of myself in this beloved robot character," suddenly it's all, "Nooo, beloved robot character couldn't possibly be aspec! You buffoon!!! How dare you!!!" It's like, even when we do get "permission" to have headcanons and characters we see ourselves in, we still don't really have it. And then I wonder why I'm always so drawn to inconsequential background characters who contribute nothing to the plot - I've totally been conditioned into it because liking and relating to the main cast is forbidden, I guess.

I know this is a very niche, small problem in the grand scheme of things, but it bums me out. Especially since a lot of this is coming from people who consider themselves allies and stuff, and we already face so much backlash just for daring to suggest that we have unique struggles. Not even when we're having fun storytime with our fan fiction do we get a break.