#I'm talking about getting high but I've never gotten high so lol

[lemurzsquad]

Hand Sanitizer

Pairing: Sakusa x gn!reader (platonic or romantic, up to interpretation)

Summary: You and Sakusa hate each other with a passion, and it's almost always a disagreement over hand sanitizer. So when you leave to wash your hands and don't come back, Sakusa learns why exactly you avoid using it so adamantly.

A/N: Okay so this fic. Hooooo boy. This fic. I've been wanting to write it for a while and finally have. It started as a "Reasons why I'm pretty sure Sakusa would hate me irl" and turned into this.

So I have a skin condition known as aquagenic wrinkling of the palms (or AWP), which affects my hands when they come in contact with water, which is what this fic is about. I never hear about this condition anywhere, and it's very lonely sometimes, and there's no real treatment for it (from what I've seen). So this is essentially a vent where I take my skin condition seriously for once instead of just making water allergy jokes to cope lol

(More info about AWP here)

Word count: 3898

cw: skin condition (non-graphic descriptions and discussion) (AWP - please read above), hurt/comfort, angst, crying, enemies to friends...?, emotionally constipated apologies from Sakusa, hand sanitizer is evil /j, vent, not proofread because I just wanted to get this done and posted to do literally anything else, (please lmk if I should tag anything else)

(Disclaimer: I am not a doctor, and everything written here is purely from my own experiences and observations. If you would like to learn more, please do your own research; this is not designed to be informative. It's purely for myself and for awareness.)

You and Sakusa had never gotten along.

You were certain you knew when it started, having been completely oblivious of one another up until that point.

It was when you were both first years in high school, and there happened to be a lizard in the classroom. You, upon seeing it, immediately proceeded to pick it up and ask the teacher to let you put it outside, to which they agreed.

You came back to the classroom, dusting off your hands, when a curly-haired boy took it upon himself to comment, “Go use some hand sanitizer, would you?”

You squinted at him, partly confused as to why he was talking to you and how you had never noticed he sat there before. “No thanks,” you answered, “I'd rather just wash my hands.”

“I don't think just washing your hands would be enough,” he rebutted with a sharp look behind his bangs. “You probably don't even know how to properly wash your hands.”

“Well, too bad! I'm not using hand sanitizer!” You were starting to get annoyed, crossing your arms.

Somehow, that seemed to make him even more disgusted, possibly at the thought that you were spreading whatever it was on your hands onto your clothes now, too.

The two of you threw jabs back and forth until the teacher separated you, which you were both happy to oblige. The animosity between you never seemed to quite dissipate even as the year went on and you became second years. You almost felt bad for the misunderstanding, knowing it was entirely your own fault, but how were you supposed to explain to this random kid that you couldn't use hand sanitizer even if you wanted to? At least, in your head you couldn't.

At some point, you and Sakusa became something of enemies within your class—renowned ones, at that. People would often ask the both of you why you hated each other so much, but your answers were vague at best.

“He's just so pretentious,” you said once.

“They're just so obstinate,” he said once.

And thus, an impasse stretched between you. You hadn't even learned his name until months after your first encounter, too bitter to really care.

Despite the efforts you both went through to avoid being within the presence of the other, you somehow still ended up nearby. Maybe it was your teachers attempting to make you get along—maybe it was the universe laughing in your face.

Throughout that entire time, you still faithfully avoided hand sanitizer like the plague. The one time the nearest bathroom was out of order for a little while and you couldn't wash your hands, you used as little of the accursed substance as you could. Whatever microscopically thin layer that coated your hands there was, you shook it off almost violently, simultaneously disgusted by the feeling of something on your skin and afraid of what it might do.

The disapproving look Sakusa gave you when he saw that was palpable.

At some point, you hated each other mostly out of principle. You'd both kept it up this long—it would be weird to suddenly just let it go since your flimsy justifications seemed enough until now. To admit that you were being unreasonable would be worse than getting along, you separately reasoned.

So when you were paired up for a project, you couldn't help but grimace. Sakusa was the first to go up to the teacher about it.

“I can't work with them,” you heard him say. For once, you agreed with him.

The teacher, however, dismissed his concerns with a wave, saying, “In life, you don't get to pick who you work with. Sometimes you'll have to try to put aside your differences to get your work done.”

It sounded stupid to you, like some half-hearted excuse so they wouldn't have to rearrange seating or partners. But it's not like you had any place to argue, so you resigned to just sucking it up.

Instead of working together, you both divvied up tasks as quickly as possible and did what you assigned yourselves—separately.

All was going well; you ignored each other and worked on the project silently. Despite other groups discussing their plans and the room being filled with chatter, your share corner was dead silent save the sound of pen on paper.

Which didn't last long when suddenly the tip of your pen snapped off. The now open ink tube spilled onto your hands, and when you tried to minimize the damage, it only got worse. By the time you dropped the pen onto your open notebook, raising your hands in surrender, they were absolutely coated in black splotches. A sense of defeat washed over you as you watched your words get covered and your paper stained in ebony.

Taking a moment to glance at your already ruined hands, you just resigned to picking up the pen and throwing it out. It was your favorite pen, which was unfortunate. It couldn't be helped, you told yourself.

Sakusa had noticed you flailing about your desk, silently judging you for the clumsy mess you made when you should have just thrown out the pen the second it broke to avoid the noir crime scene that now covered you and your area. He scowled knowing you would now have to redo whatever you had written for the project.

It was nearing the end of school, the class you were currently in being the final one of the day. You approached the teacher's table and asked if you could go wash your hands. They checked the clock to see about twenty minutes left before replying, “Make it quick.”

You walked past Sakusa's desk on your way to the door. He made the snide remark, “You could get the ink off really well with hand sanitizer.”

It took everything in you not to snap back at him, but you just hurried past, careful not to touch anything on the way out.

Sakusa knew he would never understand you. From the moment you met, you stubbornly refused what seemed to be basic courses of action. Touch something dirty? Use hand sanitizer. Eating? Wash your hands before and after to keep from touching anything.

The couple of times he had seen you wash your hands, it was very brief, and you seemed to avoid using the air dryer, opting for paper towels that were arguably undoing whatever progress you made in washing your hands.

At the same time, you avoided any task that would require you to touch dust or water. You always asked to sweep or clean windows, so much so that everyone just ended up giving you those tasks to get you to stop asking. If you did get something on your hands, you immediately wiped or shook it off, seemingly disgusted. You would even briefly run it under water just to dry it on your clothes so they weren't wet. It seemed there were things worse than water if you were willing to rinse them off.

But it was still that one avoidance that came between you: the hand sanitizer. It was practically the same as water, and it dried quickly. Even if it was comparable to washing your hands, it was still much more convenient in most scenarios. Yet you continued to adamantly refuse to ever use it. At some point you declared, “I would rather die,” when he had tried to squeeze some on your hand, earning him his wrist grabbed and pushed away. 

He just didn't understand.

So when he found you sobbing in front of the stairs, opening your hands and clenching them closed into loose fists repeatedly, he was beyond confused.

You hadn't come back to class after leaving to wash the remnants of your broken pen, so the teacher decided it was your project partner, Sakusa, who should find you and return the belongings you left behind. He went over to your open notebook that remained just where you left it and noted the handful of words that were still visible. 

Sakusa folded the cover over, enclosing the now dried puddle of ink. The remainder of your things he scooped into his arms, leaving the room once the halls had cleared a significant amount. As much as he wanted to just leave your things and go to volleyball practice, he figured it would end poorly.

Plus, what could possibly have kept you out of class for so long that you would have left everything behind? There was no way it had taken that long to get most of the ink off of your skin, so either you had just skipped the last bit of school or something happened. Since you hadn't taken your wallet with you with your IDs (he checked your bag when he put the notebook back inside, sure that it was completely dry), he reasoned it was probably the latter.

“Tsk.” They would have been able to get it off with hand sanitizer, he thought, brows furrowed. This is such a waste of time.

Sakusa wandered through the halls when he didn't find you by the bathrooms. He was starting to think it was a lost cause trying to return your bag; he even had to text his cousin to tell him why he would be late. It wasn't until he got to a particularly empty hallway did he hear something.

Quietly, in a dark alcove with a set of stairs leading up, a figure was huddled against a wall. Their tears were soft but anguished, stifled because it was in the environment of school. Sakusa had tried to ignore them until he realized it was you.

You held your palms up just past your knees that were pressed against your chest. You opened and closed your hands, a fresh cascade of tears painting your cheeks as you choked back a sob. You pressed—with more pressure than could have been painful—your thumb into the center of your other palm, nails digging into the back of your hand. You set your closed eyes on your knees with the hope that it might stop the water that leaked from them.

Sakusa, with great caution, approached your hunched figure. He didn't want to, he really didn't. You were the person he probably hated the most at his school, but somehow he knew he'd seem like an awful person if he didn't at least give your belongings to you directly—he wouldn't give you the satisfaction of another thing to hold over his head.

And yet those thoughts went to the back of his mind when he crouched down in front of you. His mask and curly hair obscured his focused expression as he tried to study your current state. The moment you seemed to hear him there, you held your breath and repressed your already quiet cries.

When Sakusa got close, you buried yourself further in to hide your face behind your knees and clenched your hands even more.

He frowned and something in his chest tightened. His brows furrowed deeper over his eyes and he huffed. He saw your nails digging into the skin on the backs of your hands.

“That's going to leave a mark if you keep doing that.” It came out more biting than he had meant it, but he was being serious.

It was then that you could no longer hold back your sobs, almost choking on your own tears. The grip you had of your hands softened and unlinked; instead, you lightly shook them apart from each other. Sakusa had to take a moment to process, but it almost seemed like there was something wrong with them. 

He just wanted to get you to stop crying so he could give you your bag. As much as he hated the gesture, he asked, “What's wrong with your hands?”

You curled your lips in to bite down on them, fighting back hiccups. With your eyes tightly screwed shut, you upturned your palms.

The sight alone made Sakusa's eyebrows fly up in shock. 

He didn't mean to, but he grabbed your wrist to get a better look. Ignoring the ink stains that faintly persisted, there were pale, patchy splotches in the center of your palm and on the side edges of your fingers; there were even some tiny pale rings on the periphery of the bigger splotches. But underneath that, the skin seemed as if it had soaked in water for hours or maybe even days. Not only were there dozens of deep crevice lines trailing from the tips of all of your fingers to their bases but the lines on your palms were more prominent, surrounded by profound, dense wrinkles that spanned the entire surface.

His eyes darted around your hand for a few moments just trying to comprehend what he was looking at. It looked unnatural—it looked painful. And when he met your gaze, he saw unidentifiable emotions flash across it. Was it shame? Regret? He couldn't be sure aside from the blood that seemed to drain from your face.

You tried to pull your hand away, but Sakusa wouldn't let go. His eyes never left yours, searching for some kind of answer. When he couldn't find it there, he asked, “What happened?” It was soft, calm, and even, enough to make you tear up a little again.

The second time you tugged, he released your wrist. You pushed your thumb into your palm again, looking away. Hiding your hands away in the space between your stomach and where your legs were still tucked against your torso, you sniffled a few times and tried to even out your breathing.

“I-It's normal… it just h-happens when I-I touch water…” You stuttered and mumbled between hiccups.

“That is not normal,” Sakusa said a little too quickly and curtly, realizing it probably would have made it seem like he was berating you.

With another sniffle, you said, “It's a– it's a skin condition.” You started to scratch your palms partly out of stress and partly out of the persistent stinging. “It reacts to water i-if I touch it for too long.”

His eyebrows knitted in concern. “Was that from washing your hands then?”

You gave a small nod, still avoiding his gaze. “I couldn't get the ink off and ended up w-washing them for too long…”

“You could have just used hand sanitizer,” he said genuinely. For the moment, he almost forgot he was supposed to hate you, more focused on being worried than anything.

Your answer was your head shaking rather fervently. “No, I can't.” You lowered to set your forehead against your knees again. “Well, actually, I don't know. I-It just scares me and I don't want to r-risk any more pain than I already have. I haven't h-had good experiences with it…”

“What did hand sanitizer ever do to you?” It came out snarkier than Sakusa had meant. He slowly lowered himself to sit with his legs crossed in front of you, your bag still next to him.

You let out a heavy breath. “I was a dumb kid in elementary,” you started. “I had an obsession with scented hand sanitizer for probably a few months. I used it multiple times a day, and even though I don't know for sure if it's related, my hands got worse after that year I think. Only after that did I finally go to the doctor to get it diagnosed after my mom did a ton of research. I agreed to avoid hand sanitizer from then on. I just don't want to risk being in more pain…”

You both went silent.

“Oh…” It was all that left Sakusa's lips. A sudden wave of guilt crashed into him. All of the times he had berated you for not using hand sanitizer and all of his snide, rude, annoyed remarks resurfaced in his conscience. He felt terrible. He felt bad. Someone was hurting and all he did was throw lighter fluid on their problems—for months—and it seemed there was finally a spark to set it all ablaze. The thought that he started it all made it worse.

“Stop with whatever weird look you have on your face.” You squinted at him and his downturned, scrunched face. You'd calmed down enough to be making quips, it would appear. “It's not like I can do anything about it.” You shrugged, half-hearted.

He searched your face again for any sign of emotion aside from blank resignation, but he couldn't find anything. “Is there no treatment?”

You shrunk down further into your huddle, not vocally answering, but the answer was still clear.

Something about the whole situation made his heart hurt; it made him upset, he realized. “So what, you just have to avoid water?”

The nod of your head to the side looked pathetic as you avoided his eyes. After several seconds of silence, you said, “I used to love swimming. It's not like I can't, it's just… it hurts and it makes me feel gross. I don't even like the beach anymore because if I go in the water and get my hands wet, there's no real place to dry them off.” You laughed humorlessly. “It's stupid. You'd think I would get more used to it and get over it as I got older, but it just made me more upset. Why me? Why did I have to get stuck with a condition that's rare and isn't really bad enough for people to care enough to find a treatment? At least, it feels that way…

“I know it's awful, but I sometimes wonder, ‘Why didn't I get stuck with something worse? Then I might have a way to treat it. Then people might care.’”

You glanced up to judge Sakusa's reaction, instantly regretting spilling your feelings and questioning why you did. Tears threatened to flood over again and spill from your eyes. You felt helpless; not only from your condition but also from being stared down by the person you were certain despised you more than anyone. You were giving him more ammo to be disgusted and to detest you, too.

But you couldn't find his face. His ebony bangs hung down like a curtain and his mask further obscured your view, his downturned line of sight completely blocked out.

When the silence was beginning to crawl around on your skin and became almost deafening, you took in a sharp breath and held it for a moment before breathing out a tiny apology. “Sorry… you don't wanna hear about this…”

“No.”

“...No? No… what?”

“No…” 

Sakusa was struggling to get out the right words. How does he say sorry to you in a way that you might actually believe? How does he tell you that you're allowed to be upset, that you can talk about it? How does he make you understand that it's okay?

And how is he supposed to get you to believe it when it's coming from him?

His voice sounded almost angry but not at you—it was for you. “You can be upset,” he said between gritted teeth, hands clenched into tight fists. “No one deserves to have to live everyday avoiding something so common just to not be in pain. And no one deserves to have some jerk constantly making light of it even if they don't know.”

The way your eyes widened and water dripped down your cheeks in sudden streams said it all. “Oh…” was all you could muster before you completely broke down. No one you had ever told about your condition had seemed to fully grasp how much you were hurting inside, how every day was a struggle to avoid reminding yourself of how awful your hands were, how even looking at your own hands sometimes made you ashamed and loathing of yourself. It was a constant reminder that there would always be something wrong with you; you would always be broken, and there was no way to fix it.

Sakusa let you cry with the renewed emotional rush. He remained firmly planted where he sat, not moving an inch. He was not going anywhere.

And he didn't, even as your sobbing slowed to quiet sniffles and wiping mostly dried tears. It took a while before you finally muttered, “Thank you… No one's ever said that to me before…”

“Well, they should.” His words were curt but lacked any sharpness to them.

When you looked up to meet his eyes, he turned them away from you. Hesitantly, he uttered, “Look, I can't promise you that we'll get along, but I can assure you I'll try not to bother you anymore. No more stupid hand sanitizer comments anymore, either.” It was the only peace offering he could make for a chance to pave a path towards making amends.

You let out a breath through your nose that was close to a laugh before hiccuping, “Next thing you know, you'll be telling me we'll work on our group project together.”

“Don't push it,” he answered, quickly and humorlessly. It only made you laugh, although he couldn't comprehend why.

“It's getting late,” Sakusa tried to divert. “You should head home.”

You reached for your phone, and the little numbers on the screen confirmed his statement. Suddenly, a flash of panic crossed your face. “I don't have my bag,” you state frantically, “or any of my stuff.”

It was then that Sakusa held up the original object of his search for you, gently lowering it to the ground. “The teacher told me to bring it to you since you never came back.”

Relief washed over you in a calming rush, and you finally seemed to relax. You pulled your knees away from your chest and sat with your legs crossed. Confirming that everything was in your bag, an immensely relieved sigh left your lips in a gust.

“Thank you.” Your gaze was earnest, trying to convey just how much you meant your words to make sure it sunk in.

Sakusa just grumbled, “Whatever.” He was back to his usual self despite how he stumbled embarrassingly when he got up and realized his legs had gone numb. He reluctantly offered up his hand to help you stand, but you only looked at it for a moment, mouth pressed into a line, before you got to your feet on your own.

He pretended he hadn't tried to assist you, instead pivoting on his heels and shoving his hands in his pockets with a slouched posture. Without another word exchanged, you both headed towards the school's entrance.

The air fell into a comfortable quiet until then. When you did reach the entrance, however, you both stopped in your tracks. You turned to Sakusa, giving him a soft smile and a small wave, and headed down the street. Only when you turned the corner, out of sight, did he head back towards the volleyball gym. He was so horribly beyond late that it was almost laughable.

But he didn't care, knowing it meant someone was there in that very moment for you when you needed it most. So what if he also started to mend whatever nonexistent relationship was there in the process? What mattered was that someone told you that it was okay.

And Sakusa was okay with that. Being late to practice wasn't nearly as pressing as his long overdue apologies. What could be more important than that?

Do not copy and/or repost!! Any likes or reblogs are appreciated, though! (c) 2024 LemurzSquad

[mothdruid]

Within the past 72 hours the TGM fandom got a fire put under it's ass, for lack of a better term/phrase. Even though I'm not as active in the fandom anymore, it did make me want to talk about a few things. This isn't the first time that I've had to make a post similar to this, usually speaking about reblogs and keeping your fanfic writers feeling wanted within the fandom spaces, but today I'm going to talk more about fandom etiquette and my experiences in fandom spaces. So, if you want to hear my opinion on fandom etiquette, how I learned fandom etiquette, and my thoughts about the doxing situation that has happened, keep on reading.

My Fandom Experience.

The first fandom that I was ever a part of was The Hunger Games fandom in the 8th grade (if you don't include my anime fandoms). I was 12-13 at the time. This was when I was first introduced to Tumblr and being involved within a fandom online. At the time I was super young, barely even knew who I was as a person, let alone in a fandom space. All I did was reblog little gifsets and fawn over Josh Hutcherson. I remember getting my first hate anon, even though I didn't do anything that would generate that to even happen. Even when I was 12-13, I couldn't understand why anyone would send a hate anon. That was when I found out a friend of mine found my Tumblr and actually secretly hated me, so she sent me hate anons. Still, before I knew it was her I didn't understand.

Fandoms were a formative part of my childhood. I think that main one that helped form me though was the Supernatural (yeah, I know, eye roll), Naruto, and The Hobbit fandoms. I had made friends on Tumblr and Instagram through these fandoms. During these times was when I had first started consuming fanfiction. Specifically, destiel and thilbo fanfiction. This is how I started to find the things in fanfiction that I loved, and the things that I hated. Instead of sending hate to the writers for their thoughts and stories that I didn't agree with, I would back out of the story or just scroll past. Not only that, I also started to use the filters on AO3 constantly, ensuring that I was only reading the fics that I knew I'd enjoy. Also, I was careful to read warnings and tags prior to reading the fic. Never once did I blame the writer for something that I knew I didn't like and accidentally read or read for see what it was about.

After high school was when I started getting into fanfiction writing. I've written for a lot of fandoms during this time. The IT movies, Total Drama, Haikyuu, Attack on Titan, Marvel, Bridgerton, Top Gun: Maverick, and currently ASOIAF. As a writer I've never gotten hate, thankfully, but I have had a lot of friends that have. It's sad to see so many people who take the time to write, whether it's enjoyable or not, receive hate. As writers we are simply expressing our creativity for the things that we love. Since posting fanfiction on tumblr, I have experienced a lot of people pestering for new updates and when the next fic is, and so have a lot of other writers on here. Even though people only know us as a little icon and username, fanfiction writers are people. We have lives outside of writing fanfiction. Everyone also isn't the same type writer. One person may easily write multiple fics every week, some of us take longer, and some of us are even just passion writers (me lol).

The TGM fandom has been one of the most negative fandom experiences I've ever seen/had. It is full of some of the meanest people/anons I've ever seen. From writers being attacked for fic ideas, people being sent hate for something that the anon has full control over, and people constantly expecting new stories to read on the daily. Yes, I do know that other fandoms have these issues, but it seems to be almost a weekly, hell, even daily thing within this fandom. A lot of the issues that I see happen in this fandom are from people who don't understand fandom etiquette.

Fandom Etiquette.

If you had noticed there was a few things I put in bold above. These are key things that I learned during my time that attribute to fandom etiquette. So without further a do, I'll list out some fandom etiquette rules that I follow all the time.

Don't send hate anons to people

Block/unfollow people you don't like

If you don't like an idea or fic, don't read it

Read through all warnings and tags that the writer provided

Use AO3 filters

Don't blame the writer/creator for reading things they created that you actively know you don't like

Writers/Creators aren't "content farms"

There are people behind these blogs/usernames, treat them like someone you'd see on the street

Writers/Creators are expressing love/passion for something, don't hate them for doing that

If you see something fandom related that you don't like, scroll past it or ignore it

YOU CURATE YOUR OWN EXPERIENCE (ESPECIALLY ON TUMBLR)

The Doxing Situation.

For those who are unaware but decided to read this anyways, recently there was a writer (Mama Mayhem) on here who got doxed from another writer in the fandom. Mayhem has since lost her job due to the doxing. This was apparently from her breaking HIPAA by posting a picture into a private groupchat/discord. This picture was posted almost a half year ago. Meaning that the person who reported/doxed Mayhem had known about this picture for months and only recently decided to do something about it.

I'll start by saying that I also work in healthcare, and know many other people here who do. I understand that a HIPAA violation is 100% an offense that gets you fired. I'm not excusing the HIPAA violation if one did occur.

Some people have brought up the idea that maybe the person that reported the picture, and doxed Mayhem, was doing it out of the goodness of their heart. Due to the timeline of it all, that doesn't seem likely. I had a previous coworker get fired for HIPAA violations and it took a total of a week from the initial report for her to be gone.

The biggest thing I want to convey is that TWO WRONGS CAN HAPPEN AT THE SAME TIME. Yes, if Mayhem violated HIPAA, it is wrong. But at the same time, the person held onto this information for months only to use it out of spite, pettiness, and cruelty, is wrong.

My Thoughts.

Due to Mayhem being doxed, a lot of people have decided to leave this platform, take indefinite hiatuses, stop writing, or move to AO3 exclusively., and I don't blame them. I'll be honest, I'm thinking about moving to AO3 exclusively now. AO3 feels a lot more rewarding in my experience. I already only post my fics for ships to AO3, so why not just post everything on AO3 (which I usually do).

I think a lot of people have forgot what it feels like to feel shame in something they say or do. When I say this, it's directed towards people who send hate or do other malicious things in fandom spaces. Fandoms were never this clique-ish and mean. I think it has to do with the pandemic, meaning that a lot of people who would have never joined a fandom did because they weren't allowed to do anything outside of their house. So, those mean girls that made fun of fandom girlies (g/n) previously, joined the fandoms and decided started bullying the people within them.

This situation is super shitty and people are now scared. It makes complete sense, especially after seeing someone, that many of you were close to, be doxed. A lot of people are scared of it happening to them now. I don't think this fandom will be the same after this situation, but who knows, maybe everyone will just forget and move on. Either way, I think I'll be taking a step back from the TGM fandom. I'll still be here, but until further notice, I won't be posting any TGM fanfiction. Maybe a gifset/picture here and there, but I don't think this is a fandom I feel comfortable writing for anymore.

If you've read all of this, thank you.

[artsyaech]

responses i've gotten when i tell people i'm autistic

"everyone's on the spectrum" if that were true, the world wouldn't be so difficult for us to live in.

"no, you're not" wow, i went through a lengthy diagnostic process when i could've just asked you! /sarc

"you're nothing like *insert 2-8-year-old boy this person knows*" hmmm, i wonder why. it's almost as if i'm not a 2-8-year-old boy. you're nothing like my allistic nephew!

*proceeds to re-enact a stereotype of autism in front of me, rocking back and forth and making noises* honestly, the fact that this has happened to me TWO SEPERATE times by TWO SEPERATE people is ludicrous to me. so you're saying that autistic people that act somewhat like that (not exactly, because they're portraying a stereotype) are inferior? of course that's what they're saying! and, in turn, they either think i'm faking it or that i'm inherently inferior...

"you're not that autistic" elaborate on that, please. so just because i'm not completely non-verbal and try my best to mask because i'm afraid of being bullied or harassed in public, that means i'm "less autistic". the fact that i've gotten this one more times than i can count. this one is so minimizing to the real and difficult experience i face every single day, but alright, i guess.

"do you have asperger's?" i was technically diagnosed with that at the age of twelve, but i feel like this question is essentially saying "oh, you seem 'high functioning', which, in turn, means you have a disorder not as 'severe' as 'real autism'" i won't even get into the problems with the term asperger's syndrome, i'll let you google that one...

"have you seen rain man?" no, and i don't want to.

"autism is not a disability, it's a different ability" i will bite you.

"oh, i see..." (in a condescending tone) what

responses i wish i got more often:

"oh, alright" simple, you can ask follow-up questions if you want to, but a simple acknowledgement in a sincere tone is enough for me, personally. because then we can keep talking about our interests.

"okay, how can i accommodate you / do you have any needs that i can make sure you meet?" never get this one, but, damn, i wish i did.

"oh, cool, can you tell me more about that?" my friends call me autism squared for a reason, i have a special interest in autism, so asking me non-rude questions is always a plus.

yeah, this was a rant, but whatever lol. just don't be a dick towards autistic people

[sidthedollface2]

A Crown fit for a God  (Part 5)

Part 4

Pairing: Azriel x Fem Reader

Ch Summary: Elain tries to hold on to whatever relationship she and Azriel have left. Will he submit to her desires? Or seek you out instead?

Or

You accidentally discover what the inside of a cell looks like. 

word count: 4.3k

Ch warnings: SA (groping, not graphic and no p in v), thoughts of murder, drugging, cheating (don't worry), slight pregnancy talk. 

Series warnings: 18+ MDNI, SMUT,  mentions of SA, angst, hurt/comfort, war, murder including injuries, fighting, no use of y/n, nicknames, magic, greek mythology, pining, jealousy, soft Az with a little temper, azriel with other women (sorry), reader with another man (get it friend ; )

A/n: I had something totally different planned but decided to take this little detour. Lol. I believe after this chapter we will see more of Azriel and reader interactions. I think. Idk. maybe. I'm a daydreamer not a writer so if you see any mistakes that's how I dreamt it. Lol

The following day Lucien had gotten into a fight with Eris, what was at first a screaming match turned physical, as fists flew left and right. Both males stubborn in their decision, Lucien adamant that he already had planned to run away with you to the Spring Court and Eris tried to explain that a life on the run was no life at all. He promised Lucien you’d be well taken care of and that you’d be a wonderful High Lady when the time came. “No! I’d rather die than watch her marry you.” Lucien roared, angering his brother even more. “We will leave in two days' time and you will not seek us out.” Two days. Eris had two days to figure out how to make you stay.  

If Eris was to be the next High Lord he’d have to do dishonorable things to get what he wanted. This was the first of many. “Gods forgive me for what I'm about to do,” he whispered to himself as he mixed the sex pollen into the cake batter. He placed the round tins in the oven, just like his mother had shown him many times before. Once the cake was frosted and decorated he hand delivered it to an old friend he hadn’t seen in a long while. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once again Azriel watched as you walked away, a lone shadow ordered to follow and keep you  safe trailing behind you. Shame filled his guilty heart. He had never acted this way before, not with Mor or Elain or any other female he had in his bed. It was foolish to judge you when he’s had more than enough partners in the 500 plus years he’s been alive.   

Was he going to apologize by fetching you contraceptive tea from The Night Court, so you could sleep with someone else, while he pinned after you? 

Yes. Yes he was, and he certainly wasn't thrilled about it. 

The following morning you stumbled upon a small box on the front steps of your cottage; adorned in navy wrapping paper and secured with a golden bow. A small note was attached along with a violet flower, its stem carrying bulb-like flower buds waiting to bloom and berries as black as the midnight sky. You recognized the plant as Nightshade. 

My Queen of Death,

 I hope you’ll find it in your heart to forgive my ignorance. I'm ashamed that I've allowed my jealousy to transpire into hurtful words. Words that no female should ever hear and I truly apologize for judging your actions when my own are not very admirable. I realize that actions speak louder than words and I aim to show you just how sorry I am.  

Yours, Azriel

A small smile pulled at your lips as you unraveled the bow and looked inside the box. Three jars of finely crushed herbs, each labeled individually accompanied by a beautifully crafted infuser were neatly placed within the box. Along with healing salves for your wounds, and seeds to grow your own Nightshade. 

“What is that Fawn?” you didn’t hear as Eris winnowed to the cottage, his glare immediately finding the gift box in your hands. You had two options: lie and say it's just tea from a merchant or tell the truth and enrage the future heir. You were no coward, “It’s contraceptive tea from The Night Court,” you declared with not a hint of hesitation. Eris clenched his hands in a fist, taming the lingering flame that threatened to burst free in his rage. His nostrils flared in distaste for your actions. You knew the plan was to pretend to marry Eris and produce an heir, granting his fathers wishes. Somewhere along the way those pretend lies blurred into truth, at least for Eris. 

“Who did you get the tea from?” he asked, deeply inhaling the air around him, scenting for another male. Thank the Gods you had glamoured your scent, “My friend gifted it to me.” 

“You don’t have friends, I need a name now!” He seethed, clenching his jaw in anger.

You scowled at him, turning your back to him with the gift in your hands, heading back into the cottage. When he suddenly reached over, snatching the note from your hand. 

“Hey!” 

“My Queen?” He questions, reading over the note in a mocking tone and a furrowed brow, “your Azriel?” Eris smugly chuckles, "My Gods he really does know how to work the females doesn’t he? He doesn’t want to be your friend Fawn, he just wants to fuck you. I bet that's the reason he got jealous wasn't it?” He states, crumbling the note in his fist and setting it on fire with his magic. When he opens his fist again a small amount of ash floats to the ground. 

Eris had done what he always does. Place doubt in your mind that no one would ever want you more than a fuck buddy and no one has ever been friends with a Death God. The others were locked away in the prison, the weavers cottage, and the lake. Soon enough the other High Lords would come to know of you and your powers and lock you away like the rest. 

“You're right, but I still want the tea.” 

Eris stalks closer, taking the gift from your hands, “I’ll get you some new tea. This one probably has sex pollen in it. You can never trust the males of The Night Court. I’ve already told you, they share their females. And you're too precious to share.” 

Eris throws the box over this shoulder, setting it aflame before it even hits the ground. 

He wraps his arm around your shoulder, walking you inside the cottage, “Mother requests you at the Forest House. She wants you to wear a dress to Helion's celebration.”

~~~~

Azriel thought about your last words to him and it hurt him to admit you were right. No one had ever loved him. At least not as deeply as your love for Lucien. He wondered what your love would feel like. Would it be as fierce as you were, with power surging through your veins? Were you a hopeless romantic where you’d hold his hand and kiss him in the middle of the street on the rainiest day of the year? With how he was acting, that idea seemed so far off. So far each encounter with you was met with his illyrian ways of being a territorial, possessive, jealous male. He was man enough to admit he was jealous, Lucien had a piece of your heart, if not now then before. He had no right to be jealous, he was sleeping with Elain afterall. A situation he needed to end once and for all.

His curiosity was heavy enough to seek out the male and question the depths of the relationship. Not long after he landed back in Velaris, he found himself knocking on Lucien's apartment door, hoping to catch up. 

Lucien opened the door and he immediately regretted it. He wasn’t exactly fond of the illyrian who had been sleeping with his mate. Knowing very well Azriel’s appetite for beautiful females. He’d figure once he grew bored of Elain he’d find another female to bed and another and another, leaving those poor females a shell of their former selves. Lucien had no patience for small talk and he wasn't exactly interested in what the shadowsinger had to say, “whatever it is, I don’t care.” Lucien moved to close the door in Azriel’s face, unamused with the sudden visit.

“Wait!” Azriel pleaded, hand splayed over the door that was about to close on him. “I’m not here to talk about Elain, I’m ending it with her today. I’m here to talk about Khaos.” Lucien sighed, letting the shadowsinger enter his apartment. “Is she safe?” Lucien's worried eyes scanned Azriel for any hint of deception. “Yeah, she's safe, I just wanted to know how she was with you and now Eris. More importantly, what happened between you two? ”

Azriel walked over to Lucien's couch, Mid bend to make himself comfortable, “don’t sit. I don’t plan to entertain you,” Lucien spat, crossing his arms over his chest. Azriel let the weight of his body plop down on the couch, arms stretched wide across the back cushion. His unwavering stare indicating he would get the answers to his questions. Lucien gritted his teeth in annoyance, “ I’m not telling you shit. What happened between us, remains between us.” 

Azriel nodded, understanding his hesitancy to give any details regarding a former lover, “It’s just that I’d like to get to know her bett-”

“Haven’t you had your fill?" Lucien interrupted with a scowl, “must you take every female that I love?” He scoffed. “You don’t even deserve to breathe the same air as her.” 

There it was, his opening. Exactly what he was hoping for. Azriel didn’t hesitate in prodding further. 

“If you loved her, why did you leave?” 

Lucien shook his head, running his hand through his long locks, “No, not past tense. I still do. I’ll always…” Lucien swallowed, he couldn’t finish that sentence, it hurt too much. Azriel narrowed his eyes, Gods, he still loved you he thought to himself. He knew his next words would reopen a healed wound, but he needed more.  “You love her so much you let Eris fuck her too.” Azriel internally flinched at how tasteless the statement was. 

Lucien winced at the Shadowsingers clear attempt to rile him up, those crude words grating against his heart, “Get out!” 

Azriel smirked and threw his mud covered boots on top of the coffee table, rattling the few cups that lingered. Crossing his legs at the ankle, “the faster you tell me what I want to know, the faster I'll leave.” 

Lucien rubbed the space between his brows and let out an annoyed groan. His gaze fixed on a burgundy cloak that was thrown over an armchair. A cloak that once belonged to you, after all these years he still held onto it. Lucien's eyes glazed over in sadness as he recalled the reason he left, “after my father wished for Eris to court her, I tried to take her away to The Spring Court so we could be together. I went to our friend Jesminda's house to say my goodbyes. She invited me in for cake and tea, one thing led to another and I made the biggest mistake of my life. I couldn't tell her, so I left for Spring alone. ”

“You cheated on her?” Azriel asked. 

Lucien nodded, clearing his throat from the knot of emotion that threatened to break free. 

“You’re a fucking coward,” Azriel glared as he stalked towards the door, “she thinks the world of you and you couldn’t even tell her of your betrayal.” 

He opened the door to the apartment, leaving Lucien to sulk in misery,

“You said I don't deserve her, but it’s you who doesn't deserve a place in her heart. I’ll make sure she knows of your cowardice and infidelity.” 

Azriel slammed the door behind him and as he walked away he heard the cries of a wounded fox, shattered to pieces by a guilty conscience.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You stood in front of a full length mirror, its reflection one you didn't recognize. Your eyes lacked the stars that once circled your pupils, your once moon like orb was no longer crisp and bright. No longer did you look like a God that brought blood and gore to those who deserved a painful death. How did the Goddess of Life succumb to a female with nowhere to go but beside her betrothed. To obey his every wish with a smile on your face. Only speak when spoken to and never voice the thoughts that lingered beyond those of dresses and motherhood.

Was your life to be on your back while Eris spilled his seed inside you, producing heir after heir until your very womb decayed. “Aos? Which color would you like the dress?” you shook your head, riding yourself from your detached thoughts. You met the eyes of Auren through the mirror, a seamstress tasked with measuring you for Helion’s Celebration. “Blue would look lovely, Thank you Auren.” 

“The Prince is wearing a deep cadmium red, it be wise to match with the future heir.” Auren explained as she struggled to wrap the measuring tape around your waist, placing her finger against your body, noting the inch at which her finger fit snugly against your skin. “Make it a royal blue Auren, it reminds me of home.” 

Her heavy breathing took you out of your thoughts and your eyes widened at her swollen belly, the reason for her struggle to reach around you. “Oh Auren, I didn’t realize. It’s not polite to comment-” 

“It’s alright really, just got harder to bend and move,” she laughed, rubbing her round stomach soothingly. You beamed as she cradled the life that was growing inside her. A warmth so familiar bloomed inside you. You knew all too well the reason pregnancy was difficult in the fae lands, ever since you fell from the sky procreation had severely diminished. Not forgotten or misplaced just pointless in a cruel world. You couldn't say you had nothing to do with it, you had everything to do with creation. So it was quite a shock to see Auren pregnant, “a miracle really. Congratulations Auren, you make a wonderful mother.” 

“It’s always been a dream of mine. Thank the Gods for this fertility tea.” She took a sip from her cup and as she set it down you glanced inside, “whole nuts?” you questioned with a raised eyebrow. “Mhmm, it tastes gritty when they’re crushed down to a powder.” She grimaced as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. 

“Gritty?”

Weekly dinners with the Vanserras, you were served tea.

It couldn’t be. 

It was.

You paled. 

~~~~~~~

At dinner everyone moved around you carrying their conversations like you weren’t slowly dying inside. Like you were invisible. You sat unmoving, hands clasped within your lap as you burned a hole into the mug that accompanied your dessert. How long had you been drinking that tea? How long were you going to pretend to be Eris' lover? How long were you going to put on this mask of compliance and docility, when in reality you could rip the flesh from their bones with a blink of an eye. Slaughter each and every member of the Vanserras without a single ounce of remorse.

The more you dwelled on it the more plausible it seemed. Yes, you’d remove them all at once with the snap of your finger. Each death exactly the same as the next, painful in the way they’ve caused pain to others. No, tortuous. Starting with the slow removal of each fingernail, pulled directly from the nailbed followed by severing each finger until nothing remained of their hands but a bloody useless paw. You wouldn't stop there. Next you’d remove their feet below the ankles, better yet, below the knee, so that to move they'd need to drag their meat sack of bones across all the painful textures of the land. Each and every pull against the earth would reopen thin healed skin, leaving trails of crimson blood mixed with pus and torn flesh.

The cries of a once feared family would bring their citizens out only to shriek, and gasp in horror at the sight of the disfigured thing. As a mercy you’d allow them to keep their eyes and ears so they’d hear each vulgar degradation aimed at how mutilated and disgusting they looked, visualize the moment they made someone so ill all that could be done was vomit the contents of their stomach. No one would pin it on Eris if he was among the deformed. Though you weren’t so cruel, they did help you somewhat. Provide you with shelter, food, all the means that you’ve needed to survive thus far. Asphyxiation would be painless, you smirked.

Eris placed a panicked hand to the base of his throat, glancing around the table at his family; he noticed their glossy widened eyes. Their mouths hung open in a silent scream, opening and closing like a fish out of water, gasping for a breath of air. Utensils clattered to the ground as Lord Beron attempted to stand only to stumble clenching the table cloth for fear of falling. Eris’ amber gaze landed on your morbid stare. Eyes cloudy and pale with the promise of death in their unfocused glare.

The room spun round and round although he remained seated, knuckles white from gripping the wooden table. He felt himself slowly losing consciousness, the lack of oxygen to his brain pulling him under, a swipe across his nose made him nearly pass out as he felt blood drip down, coating his lips. Eris chanced one last look into the soul of beautiful death and found your lifeless eyes already claiming his beating heart. 

With a last ditch effort to reclaim his soul he struggled through the pounding inside his head. Placing a trembling hand against your thigh, conjuring the remaining power he had into a lick of flame. Burning against your thigh brought your thoughts back to dinner. Those heterochromia eyes morphed into the vibrant colors of the galaxy with a single blink. The sharp inhale of air surrounded the table as your mind released them from the claws of death's grip. “Must be the tea,” you challenged, voice dripping with insolence as your cold eyes met those of Lord Beron. “We’ve been poisoned!” Eris's younger brother Janus reported, pouring out his cup of tea showcasing the darkened goop that splattered to the ground. Eris’ gaze traveled from the cup to you and back again. A look of shock and hurt in the way he studied your indifference. Once everyone cleared the dinner table, Lord Beron ordered the guards to sweep the halls for a breach and check the tea imports for tampering. 

~~~~~

You made your way to your bed chambers when a rough hand tightly gripped your arm; shoving you against the stone walls with enough force to knock the sense out of you. Lord Beron lowered his mouth to your ear so no one else could hear his vile words. “If I have to chain your legs apart and force him on you, so be it! But you will let Eris fuck a babe into your pathetic cunt!” He snarled, voice dripping with the rot that plagued his evil soul. You stared at the grip he had on your arm, a bruise in the shape of fingertips already forming around your bicep. 

“Threaten me all you want-"

The back of Lord Berons palm landed across your cheek with an audible slap, whipping your face so hard you stumbled to the floor. Your fingertips sparked with electric current, adrenaline running through you, tempting you to act, to destroy everyone that got in your way. And Lord Beron would be the first to witness your fury. Defiantly, you stood to meet his stare, chin held high with pride, “I bow to no High Lord.” 

Lord Beron didn’t bother to strike you as he signaled for a guard to escort you below. Where they kept their murderers, thieves, and those that needed a reminder of who their High Lord was. Lord Beron didn’t know how powerful you were since you kept most of your magic to yourself and those close to you, so it came as a shock when a stainless steel collar dipped in faebane was locked around your neck, made to look like a simple necklace with the only key belonging to High Lord Beron. 

You were dragged down the cold halls farther than you knew existed, down a spiral of stone steps, passed the cells that housed the criminals of Autumn and last through a hidden wall disguised as an unassuming bookcase. Your heart rate spiked as you realized this area was one you had never seen before and it worried you that maybe that was the point. You tried to summon your magic despite the collar releasing its poison onto your skin, but with nowhere to release the rage, the opposite happened. Your power turned to its host and acted like a sedative, pulling you into a sleep-like state. 

In your near-unconsciousness you didn’t feel the rough hands of a guard help himself to the curves of your body, groping your breasts and grabbing your ass before he kneeled at your feet, shackling your legs apart just as Lord Beron promised. The guards were instructed to not penetrate you but that didn’t stop them from standing around your cell to gawk and fist their needy cocks to the sight of your spread pussy. 

~~~~~~~~~

Azriel breathed a sigh of relief as he entered his room. A welcoming comfort no one could grant him, except perhaps you. 

He neared his four poster bed, large enough for his wings and a lover or two. Just as he was about to throw himself onto its pillowy top a sweet scent engulfed him. Too sweet for his liking and definitely not your scent.  As he looked to the illuminated light escaping the bottom of the  bathing room; Elain emerged from a cloud of steam, casting her in a hazy glow. Azriels eyes trailed the length of her nude body, drops of water tracking down her thin legs.

Azriel couldn't deny what a beautiful female she was, both inside and out. He was lucky to have been with her no matter how short their fling was about to be. What Elain assumed was lust in Azriels eyes was actually reflection. Seeing her bare before him reminded him of what she offered time and time again. Her physical body. He knew that's not all she had to offer, deep down she had goals to be met and hobbies that he didn't understand, but physical intimacy is what she offered to him.

Azriel couldn't believe he had gotten to the point where sex was no longer enough. He wanted more. He wanted it all. He wanted that body, mind and spirit love. A soul connection so deep not even death would be able to pry his heart away. He felt it in his bones that that connection was not with Elain, so he’d decided now was as good a time as any, to let her go. 

Without another glance Azriel walked to his closet, which held an assortment of her clothes. He pulled out her favorite pink robe, and draped it over her shoulders. Elain took the hint and tied the robe around her body at the waist, covering her completely. The act alone brought her to tears as his rejection flooded her with shame and embarrassment. 

“Who is she?” Elain muttered, crossing her arms over her stomach in an attempt to hold herself together. Azriel shook his head, a soft sigh leaving his lips. 

“Did you sleep with her?” 

“No. I wouldn't do that to her - to you,” he shook his head, “I wouldn't do that to you.”

“Do you want to sleep with her?” Elain asked with a wobble in her throat, not sure if she could handle his answer. 

Azriel turned his back on Elain and placed his hands on his hips. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he hung his head. Yes, he did want to bed you, but more than anything he wanted to hear the sound of your soft breathing as you slept nestled against his chest. He wanted to trace the beauty marks along your back and see how many constellations adorned your soft skin. 

“Azriel!” 

“Yes! Is that what you wanted to hear? He snapped.

“NO! I want to hear that you love me, not that you want to fuck someone else!” Elain sobbed, her tears freely flowing down her cheeks. “It’s her isn't it? The one you’ve been looking for all these years? The female you said I shouldn't worry about?” Elain continued to wipe away her tears. 

“I never meant to hurt you, and for that I’m sorry. If there's a chance that she’s who's destined for me then I have to explore that. You know how much I want what my brothers have, that special someone made for me!” Azriel sat on the edge of the bed, running his hands through his wavy hair. 

“I thought I was made for you Az?” 

A scoff leaves Azriels lips, “you were made for Lucien, he's your mate Elain, not me.” 

Elains stunned silent. The truth of his words piercing her fragile heart, “but I chose you.” 

“And I’m choosing her.” 

“Azriel, she's a Death God,” she pleads, kneeling in front of him with her hands on his knees, “she’s threatened Velaris and Rhys hates her. You met her one time as a child. You don’t know her!” she yelled, hurt laced in her words as she tried to make sense of his actions.

“I want to get to know her!” Azriel yelled back, standing abruptly from his position on the bed, making Elain stumble slightly, catching herself with her palms on the floor. 

“I’m sorry, this thing between us. It was never –”

Azriels shadows interrupt him as they swarm the room, darting erratically from side to side in alarm. Goosebumps form along his arms as they whisper in his ear, ‘In trouble, hurry.’ Azriel didn't need to ask who was in trouble. Somehow he could feel your despair in the pit of his stomach. You needed him and he would go to you. However far you were, he would walk miles to reach you, fly through the toughest storms to be by your side. Risk his own life if it meant you’d survive to see another day. Without another word he raced out of the house, leaving a broken hearted Elain to pick up the pieces of her fractured heart. He couldn’t be there for her any longer, not when his heart was calling out for you. 

A/n:  I’ve had a crazy week with my daughter being sick and planning her birthday party. I expect the next ch to take me some time. As always thank you so much for reading and for your sweet comments.  

Taglist: @blackgirlmagicforever @going-through-shit @dr4g0ngirl @mybestfriendmademe @isa1b2h3 @julesofvolterra @scooobies @thisblogisaboutabook @lilah-asteria @glitterypirateduck @acourtofbatboydreams @5onedirection5

[not-your-fucking-kacchan]

Hi you really don’t have to do this…… anyway I’ve been told I act like near from death note so could you do a mha x child male reader where the reader acts like near from death note like he pulls out toys in the middle of class stacks cups at lunch and is very quiet and stuff oh yeah could you make it class 1-A + Aizawa maybe other teachers in there too sorry if it’s too specific

Ofc! I haven't gotten that far into death note yet so I had to watch a Near compilation on YouTube, so I hope I got a good enough grasp of him in that time lol

Also I'm describing you as antisocial rather than shy, because near didn't strike me as the shy stuttering pushover type, and seemed just withdrawn or disinterested, and I also high-key headcanon izuku may have ADHD. I will not elaborate <3.

Masterlist<3

𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 1𝐀 𝐱 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐞!𝐀𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

It draws a few sets of eyes every time you pull out a pack of tarot cards or dice to play with in the middle of class, but noone really got distracted as long as you were quiet enough. Though, a few times you've knocked over a power ranger or transformer doll while taking notes and drawn the classes attention.

During break on your second week of school, you find yourself approached by the 'bakusquad'. Kirishima introduces himself politely and mina stares in awe at your tarot collection, but Bakugou looks livid.

He doesn't expect you to meet his glare directly with an unamused stare, and he's a second away from lunging at you and taking it as a challenge before Kaminari and Kirishima simultaneously bonk him in the head.

"Dude you don't even know him, give him a chance!"

You can't stop yourself from raising an eyebrow at the statement, figuring that these two must be the perfect balance for Bakugou's... Overbearing personality.

The next thing that catches your attention is the green haired boy that joins into the conversation, quietly asking you a question with a cute tilt of his head. "Have you maybe got ADHD? I've just seen a few of the signs on you- It's perfectly okay if you do! You won't be looked at differently!"

You already like this one, he's so precious.

Your eyes look straight into his as he studies you, and it's very intriguing to watch the gears turn in his head while he figures you out like some sort of puzzle. You could definitely get along with him. "No, I don't believe so."

He seems a little surprised by your words, but then again, you very well may have ADHD. You were never allowed to get tested for it, because your parents refused. Without a diagnosis, they can pretend there's nothing "wrong" with you.

He studies your eyes, figuring that you may have an irregular sleep schedule from the dark circles under your eyes, and that your eyes seem to be very sensitive to light because of how wide your pupils are. It's almost unnerving, to be honest. Your eyes look almost fully black.

Over the next few days you're scolded a few times by Aizawa Sensei for being too loud when knocking over your dice or your robots, but he never once asked you to put them away. All he asked in return was for you to be a little more active in the lessons.

"You get to keep your toys as long as you answer questions and participate a little more. Does that sound fair?" You nodded, slowly backing away to walk back to your desk and wait for break to finish, but from then on, you start drawing attention to yourself.

At first the attention is unwanted, and as you sit Criss cross applesauce on your chair, playing with your tarot cards, Izuku comes to sit next to you, starting to ramble about a random hero that you don't know anything about. He's very easy to get used to, however, and you quickly become what some would call friends.

Everyone's a little creeped out by your social awkwardness, and the fact that you never seem to talk, until they start to include you more, and you're forced to make new friends.

That doesn't mean you don't have trouble opening up though, and during lunch you sit in silence with your new friends as they chatter and smile at you, stacking cups that Izuku gave you to help you focus on something other than the amount classmates you have crowding you.

It takes a few more months for even Izuku to pry anything even remotely emotional from you, and even then it only shows in the waver of your voice, but he's proud nonetheless.

He would escort you around school because he didn't want you to be alone, and after a while your newfound closeness with Izuku branches out as mina comes to join the two of you.

She gives you an absolutely radiant smile as she grabs your hand, izuku taking hold of your other side for them to both drag you away to some part of the school you're not familiar with. The warmth of their hands in yours leaves you in shock, though, and your mind blanks a little when you feel the greenette squeeze it reassuringly, a tiny, pale blush creeping into your cheeks. This feeling, it was something you wanted to feel every day. It's so warm and comforting.

[limi-strology]

Astro observations II

Decided to make a part 2, didn't expect the first one to get more than, like, 50 notes 😅

Based on just my personal experience, might not be true for everyone! ᵔᴗᵔ

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

┊ ˚➶ ｡˚ Contrary to the stereotypes, I don't think I've ever met a two faced Gemini. They honestly seem pretty cool people, they have so many friends and they just know how to communicate, you know? Their relationship with their partner looks really wholesome to outsiders too (but could be just me viewing it this way, lol). If anything, I think they just stand out more, which makes it a bit more difficult to approach them. 🤷‍♀️

┊ ˚➶ ｡˚ Gemini sun girls also have something aesthetic about them, like my cousin has a nice academia aesthetic going on in her life and a classmate from uni has this high-end fashion sense, she looks really pretty everytime (For some reason, when I think of Geminis, I'm envisioning luxury parties with champagne and brands like YSL and Louis Vuitton, that's the vibe I get) ✨

┊ ˚➶ ｡˚ People with Sagittarius in their big three (sun, moon, rising) are some of the most outgoing people I know. They have so many connections and, once their schedule allows it, they start planning coffee dates, hangouts with their friends, clubbing etc. A friend of mine can literally NOT stay at home the entire day, he just HAS to go out or meet up with people for at least 2-3 hours. 🏙️

┊ ˚➶ ｡˚ To the fellas with Moon opposition Neptune; How do you guys deal with moments in life that don't live up to your expectations? You know, when your imagination goes wild and has a very idealistic scenario of a certain situation, only for it to happen in a much different way and lowkey dissapoints you? Also, do you have dreams that kind of warn you or prepare you for something that will take place in the future? Because I feel like we kind of build our own world and the universe has to remind us that life isn't always perfect, lol 💭

┊ ˚➶ ｡˚ My dear Aquarians, why the pessimism? Rather than overthinking everything and imagining the worst scenarios possible, how about you try focusing more on positive things? Even if it's just something small each time, it helps you view your daily life in a better light :)

┊ ˚➶ ｡˚ Speaking of Aquas, I've noticed that most of you guys also don't really like being alone for too long. Sure, you want to have your me time (it's fine, we all do) but you also can't stand not having company around. Like, you'll randomly decide to stay in and spend some time alone but then you'll get upset and start calling your friends and family. A friend of mine cannot stand being alone for too long, even if we spend the whole day together, he hates being home on his own, to the point where he sometimes straight up takes the bus back to his hometown. It's wonderful that you enjoy spending so much time with others (I could never, lolll) but try picking up a hobby when you don't have the chance to be around people as much. It'll kind of distract you from loneliness and give you the chance to have some quality time with yourself 🧩

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Thank you for reading, hope you have a wonderful day 💙

Edit: Bonus Observations

So a lot of you guys commented that Aquarius actually prefers solitude and could easily pass time all by themselves, so I looked into the charts of the social Aquas I know irl and see what it is that makes them so outgoing and talkative;

(I didn't include houses because I haven't gotten to confirm their birth times)

• My friend has Saturn in Gemini, which can make people talkative in any situation (I also have this placement and, although I see myself as an introverted homebody, I am surprisingly pretty chatty and enjoy going out with people that make me happy). Truly, he always gives something to talk about with everyone he knows, sometimes he'll start a conversation with another friend of his while I'm standing there not knowing what to say or do in the meantime, like 🧍‍♀️?

• He also has Mars in Sagittarius and Jupiter in Leo; energetic, lively and outgoing, thrives when surrounded by people. He almost never gets tired of hanging out with people, my low social battery could never 😅

• Other than her sun, my mom also has Aquarius in her Mercury, which makes her friendly and likeable, plus she enjoys conversing with people.

• Another thing about my mom, her placements are a bit contradictory; She has Sun in Aquarius, Moon in Virgo, and Uranus and Pluto in Libra - These indicate shyness, independence and introversion. Truly, she prefers doing things on her own most of the time and doesn't open up to just anyone. She also used to be very shy around my age (probably because of Virgo moon?). However, she also has Jupiter and Neptune in Sagittarius, which make her more adventurous, outgoing, charming and humorous. So that would probably explain this whole 'outgoing yet independent yet still can't be lonely' vibe she gives me.

Hope this explains a bit better why I had this image of Aquas at first, thanks for sharing your thoughts in the comments!

[totallyboatless]

It is time, friends, for another Pip's Weed Essay game. The rules: I'm about to take an edible and start writing a mini-essay in one sitting. I edit a tiny bit as I go, but for the most part this is on the fly. I've thought about this topic a lot, but haven't outlined it. I'll let you know when the edible hits, but there's a chance you'll realize it before I do. (PIRATE FRIENDS STICK AROUND - this is Pip from the future, I get pretty high in this, but anyway I'm here to tell you that this goes in a very unintended OFMD direction that i'm still reeling from. Anyway back to Past Pip)

Edible ingestion commencing, time: 7:37pm Mountain Time

I polled my followers for the topic, so today we're going to talk about:

Fixing the Puck Problem

I've read and seen A Midsummer Night's Dream more than any other Shakespeare play. At this point I don't know if I've seen it so much because it's my favorite, or enough opportunities for me to see it have lined up that it's become my favorite by default. It's easily the Shakespeare play I know best. I haven't seen a staging that I fully disliked, but there are two elements of this show that I feel like are rarely handled the way I want them to be.

Problem one:

Puck will never be as funny as Bottom

It's common to consider Puck to be the main character of A Midsummer Night's Dream. He's at the very least the most famous character in the play. Puck is a dream role, and obviously with his being a fairy, he's usually directed to be weird and whimsical--and a lot of the time, playing for laughs. It makes sense, he's a trickster, it's built into his nature.

But in modern day, his lines and actions don't translate as well as Bottom's. In all of the times that I've seen A Midsummer Night's Dream, I've *never* seen a production where Bottom fails to steal the entire show away from Puck. I've had multiple experiences where I could feel the director wanting me to laugh at Puck; I could see the reasons for the direction, but it just wouldn't hit. In those same productions, I've laughed so hard at the Bottom scenes that I cried.

I'm thinking particularly of the 2010 production with Judy Dench reprising Titania (honestly still in shock over seeing that lolol) and the 2019 Bridge Theatre production (which you can find streaming, it's *incredible*).

In the 2010 show, the Puck actor kept doing what honestly felt like a Woody the Woodpecker impression lol. He would pause for laughs and they just...wouldn't happen. Meanwhile, Bottom was set up with the kind of success that let him steal at least one scene from fucking Judy Dench.

In the 2019 Bridge Theatre production, I genuinely like the direction they gave Puck--he's a weird little twitchy Irish punk doing fucking aerial silk shit. But even with a unique vibe and a fun performance, it's still not enough to outshine Bottom.

Basically my thing is that I want to get to the end of A Midsummer Night's Dream and feel more connected to Puck. I *want* him to be my favorite. And there's just absolutely no way to make him my favorite if his core purpose is to be funny. Puck is supposed to be a larger-than-life being--the audience is never going to buy that when he's not even the largest character on the stage.

The second problem is smaller, and in fixing it there's also a fun chance to fix the Puck problem:

Problem two:

The audience usually doesn't understand why Titania and Oberon are fighting.

If you've gotten this far you're probably already a nerd who knows this, but gonna pose the question like I've done for other people I've seen the show with: Why are Titania and Oberon fighting? What's the core reason?

Bc you're a fucking nerd you probably yelled CHANGELING! Which yes, good for you, if I had become the Shakespeare professor I wanted to be but didn't have the money to become, you would be in my class and I would throw a snickers at you for a reward.

But the thing is, a *lot* of people who only know the play casually don't know. And most productions don't assist them in knowing.

Elaboration for non-nerds: Titania had a "and they were roommates" totally not at all lesbian relationship with a human women who was pregnant. The women dies in childbirth and Titania takes the child to raise, and she cherishes him more than anything, which is an extremely straight thing to do. In the play, the character is only referred to as the changeling. Oberon gets super jealous of this kid and wants to steal him away and make him join the Wild Hunt so that he can have Titania's full attention back, because he's got that issue creepy men get when they have kids and then are like "I'm jealous of my son because he's making it less likely for me to fuck my wife" and it's like "dude calm down with this projection of an Oedipal complex."

If you're not a coward and read Titania as in love with the changeling's mom, then Oberon's issues are maybe slightly less creepy, but like not really

So that's it really. Titania loves this kid of her sapphic lover that died. Oberon is jealous about it. He decides to play a trick on Titania both as a way to get revenge, and also as a distraction so he can steal the kid.

But the issue is that 1.) all of this is communicated in a long and kind of boring speech, and 2.) the changeling literally never has a line and also no stage directions

The 2010 production had a hot dude chained up and writhing on stage in a kind of hot dance snake movement thing when Titania talks about him, but most productions never even have an actor cast as the changeling. I was really shocked they didn't have anyone for the 2019 production, given how much I love most of the rest of their choices.

OKAY SO. We now have the two problems: Puck isn't the fan favorite even though he should be; and most people in the audience have no fucking idea about the changeling.

(THIS IS HIGH PIP FROM THE FUTURE I FORGOT SOMETHING VERY IMPORTANT TO THIS PROBLEM: If you do know about the changeling/follow along with that plot, it's *very* hard to root for Titania and Oberon when they reconcile. Which can be fun and cool and a little hot even maybe if you're going all dark, but thIS IS A PLAY ABOUT HORNY FAERIES HAVING A GOOD TIME so I won't be having that. I want this play to make me like that Titania forgives Oberon so easily. Okay Past Pip, take it away)

lol okay yeah weed friend has landed, I just wandered away for a minute with a desperate need to put taquitos in the air fryer. Time stamp: 8:16.

OKAY FOR REAL NOW LET'S GET INTO:

Pip's Most Ideal Staging of A Midsummer Night's Dream Which Fixes the Problems in Theory

The Staging:

First off I want the production to be in the middle of the literal woods where there's pretty lights in all the trees and people are sitting on blankets and have snacks and drinks and drugs and whatever they want, and the whole staging has the actors weaving through the audience. Not just theatre in the round, full immersion

I also want people to not fully know where the production is, just that it's on the outskirts of the forest, and then the actors emerge from the woods at a designated time and bring the audience to the secret stage section. And ideally this would be like a park on the outskirts of woods so that there would also be people there who wouldn't know what the fuck was going on. And ideally some of the fairy actors convince them to come along and the people go having no idea what they're about to get into. That's how A Midsummer Night's Dream is meant to be experienced in its purest form: with actors dressed as fairies trying to seduce unsuspecting strangers to follow them into the woods to an unknown location where they'll probably be offered drugs.

TAQUITO TIME

Taquitos acquired.

Puck's direction and motivation:

When Puck is first introduced, it's by a fairy called Peasblossom who's otherwise not a big part. Peasblossom lets the audience know who Puck/Robin Goodfellow is by basically going stan-mode and being like "holy shit you're famous." PB literally starts listing his greatest hits.

So picture with me: instead of an extremely fairy-like whimsical Puck, I want a Puck that wanders on-stage like a burnt-out rockstar. Cigarette in one hand, beer in another. Probably on a cocktail for faerie super magic mushrooms. Just fully numbed out. In this moment, Puck feels way more human than faerie--and I want the performance to be in a way where that feels off. To have it be communicated in manner and clothing, and the juxtaposition of PB recounting Puck's glory days, that Puck hasn't always been like this. This isn't a faerie trickster in his prime. This is a man who's lost all sense of fun and is going through the motions.

That's what happens, right, when you become just a little too famous?

Puck is the only one of the main characters who gets to the end of the show and is entirely alone.

(my favorite thing about being high is how *good* it makes food taste, these taquitos are not fancy but with the power of the devil's lettuce it's so good--oh my god I have Dr. Pepper)

(I'm back with the Dr. Pepper. I'm having fun, are you guys having fun? If you've made it this far i kiss u)

So Puck is alone at the end of the play while everyone else of import is either with their lover or with their theatre-kid-found-family. And it's largely because Puck lives between worlds. He's not powerful enough to be fey royalty; he's Oberon's right-hand man, but he's not Oberon's peer. But the lower fey court are also not his peers -- they treat him like a celebrity, he can't actually connect with them. He's not allowed to frolic and play with them anymore, not really.

With this interpretation and direction, we now have a Puck whose action in the plot can lead to a happy ending (keep with me), and whose existence isn't just to be quirky and whimsical for the audience. Instead it's a Puck with a motivation: he's lost all joy in his job, he's disconnected from him community, and Oberon only treats him like a fuckbuddy so he's sexually frustrated. (Oh right yeah I was supposed to write about how Puck is in love with Oberon. He is.) That's all fucking sad, bro! And you know from the Pip that traveled into the past that this play is fun and should be fun!

Now for the final part, where we put in the special ingredient to tie this particular Puck direction into the happy ending:

LET'S 👏 GET 👏 GAY 👏

Do you guys (gn) remember the changeling? It was like possibly an hour ago, the time-warp this particular edible always sets me on has fully set in. It's possible this essay is like 5k words long. It's also possible it's only 500 words long. I wish I was lying when I told you I don't know.

Anyway, the changeling. Let's make him a fuller character and let's give him to Puck wrapped up in a sexy, charming bow.

Picture this: The Changeling, from now on capitalized as a character, shown on stage in Titania's court. Locked up like a princess in a tower because Titania is desperate to protect him. And the Changeling is all *sigh and flutter big beautiful princess man eyes* because he wants to explore what's out there. Because he's a man who's grown up and been forced to live between two worlds. He's not fey royalty, he's not Titania's actual kid and she kind of honestly treats him more like a momento of her lesbian lover than an actual adopted kid. He can't be one of the fey court, because he's not fey, and also he's not allowed to frolic and play with them.

That should sound familiar to you if I did it right.

Puck and the Changeling, both feeling the same sort of empty spot. So let's smush them together.

Give the Changeling all of Peasblossom's lines. It makes more sense for a detail I left out before, too--Peasblossom doesn't recognize Puck they see him for the first few lines. Once they do they're all like "omg you're the dude that makes people horny for each other and also some other trickster things." They know all of Puck's stunts, but they don't know what he looks like? It's clearly an exposition device, but it's a weak one (sorry, Shakesy). He's the rockstar of the fey world. You'd have to be living under a rock or, I dunno, locked away like a beautiful man-princess --

(Okay you know where I'm going and I have to stop there because I'm cry laughing, I swear to you -- I swear to fucking god, guys, I wish I was joking -- I thought I was being cute and clever saying "man-princess". Not because of irony. IT'S BECAUSE I FORGOT THERE IS A WORD FOR A PRINCESS WHO IS A MAN AND THAT IS A PRINCE. Okay i should clearly wrap this up lol)

In this staging, the Changeling clearly doesn't want to be locked up. So...he finally finds a way to sneak out. He goes on a romp through the forest and that's when he runs into Puck (this is the scene where we first meet Puck). The Changeling wouldn't recognize Puck, though he's have heard of him. He probably loves stories because what the fuck else does he have to do, so he's asked the fairies to tell him about Puck's adventures over and over. Meanwhile, Puck wouldn't recognize the Changeling because Titania has been keeping him so under lock and key. It allows an opportunity for them to connect on more of a peer basis as they--

Holy fuck. Wait. Hold on. Is the Changeling Stede. Is Puck Ed. What the fuck. Did I write an AU on accident. I don't even like AUs very much (sorry AU writers it's not personal it's just not my thing).n ANYWAY sorry for the pirate aside. God this is properly off the rails now.

They like each other, you get it. And now Puck has someone he wants to impress. There's not a lot of opportunities to give the Changeling more lines, but that doesn't mean he can't appear on stage. He can stay with Puck (hiding from Oberon whenever he's there, leading to some good chances for physical comedy) and go on the nighttime adventure of his dreams.

This leads to a fun, unique choice: having Puck fuck up the love flower juice plan on purpose. So that he can show this hot dude following him around with wide enthusiastic eyes the kind of things he's capable of OH MY GOD THIS IS ED AND STEDE I SWEAR THIS IS NOT ON PURPOSE I AM JUST NOW SEEING THE PARALLEL

Okay we're nearly at the end I promise. We just have one more problem to solve: How are we supposed to root for Titania and Oberon to get together when Oberon literally publicly humiliates her and then steals her adopted son and forces him to join the Wild Hunt even tho Titania REALLY doesn't want him to? Well, the first one is easy, Titania and Oberon are so fucking kinky, and Oberon likes getting cucked (remember he's only jealous of the Changeling, never the lesbian).

The second one is also easy. Make it the Changeling's choice. Leaving Titania and joining Oberon's court means two things: He gets to be with Puck, and joining the Wild Hunt allows him to go on exciting adventures. If Titania saw that the Changeling wanted this with the staging that both Titania and Oberon look over and see Puck and the Changeling making out right after Titania's spell is broken. Then Oberon can jokingly delivers the line about having stolen the Changeling, realizing that the plan worked but in the most ridiculous way possible. And how could Titania not find joy in all of that?

It makes me so much more glad to see them get back together.

Puck's closing soliloquy is his most famous, but I like his last big monologue right before it better. There's a very important line he says that communicates an important shift within the context of his particular staging:

And we fairies, that do run

We.

Puck isn't a lonely, washed-up rockstar anymore. He's part of a "we." Not just the Changeling, but the other fairies, too. Puck and the Changeling act as bridges for each other, to be part of each other's worlds in a way that feels like a whole -- OH MY GOD IT IS ED AND STEDE

Puck being alone on stage isn't so sad anymore, after all that. Because Puck, who starts off the play with so little sense of belonging, now has so much to go back to.

And that's it, that's my ideal staging of this play. Honestly, I really, really want to direct it. I have no experience directing but I have the audacity to think I could do it lol. No resources, tho

OH ONE LAST THING HELENA NEEDS TO BE INTO PUP PLAY

also the lovers are all in a polycule, that's just a given, any other staging is cowardly

alright bbye

[exit]

final time stamp: 9:25 PM, not rereading, just hitting post. We die like Mercutio.

[buffyfan145]

Hello! I've seen a lot of your takes about the relationship between Sauron and Galadriel, so I decided to ask you. Some people keep saying that the kiss that so much is being talked about will be between Gal and Cel, but like why? There's not a single hint that he's going to appear this season, no one even mentions his name, not to mention that he wasn't even cast. Usually in shows somehow try to prepare the viewer to the appearance of a new character or something. I mean it will be somehow out of nowhere, plus it's too early for him. And I think when they actually cast Cel actor, it won't be hidden and they'll say it directly. Anyway I'm Haladriel shipper, but I don't think the kiss will be between them, at least in the classical sense. Maybe Sauron kiss her hand or something like that? Also, I want to add about the kiss between Gal and Cel, let's say it's true, but why is the kiss described as shocking? Like they're husband and wife. And I also saw a couple of opinions that a kiss is possible between Gal and Elrond, which seems even more improbable to me. Like she put her hand on Elrond's chest and some considered it a romantic gesture… but she was literally thinking about Halbrand at that moment! And I have one more question for you, what do you think about the shot where Galadriel is wearing a hood at night and someone is standing behind her, maybe a random orc or Halbrand or someone else? I hope my message didn't scare you with its long :D

No worries about the ask being long. I've actually gotten longer. LOL 😀 I have posted about the kiss before and who it could be with her and it's not Celeborn. I think it's people hoping it's him but he hasn't been cast. The writers confirmed it at SD Comic Con but did say both him and Glorfindel will eventually be in the show. I agree with you when he is cast it will be announced separately as he will be a series regular. There is a chance he could show up in the finale as a surprise but I still kind of doubt it. They're going to have to choose the right actor too, especially with how Haladriel has been and the chemistry between Morfydd and Charlie, which makes me think it could be someone well known that already has a fanbase. I'm hoping for that too as we know she ends up with him and I want him to be likable (also would be great if it's someone I'm already a fan of LOL) and show that she loves him too. But again I'm certain he's not in season 2 at all.

Then I highly doubt it's Elrond, despite some "leaks" on 4Chan and Reddit saying it is, since Morfydd gave an interview at the s2 premiere in London back on the 20th that she loved filming their non-romantic friendship. Her saying that implying there's no kissing like that at all between them, and knowing he's her future son-in-law I can't see the show going there.

So that brings me back to Sauron. I can't see it being anyone else besides maybe Celebrimbor as he was in love with Galadriel in some 1st Age stories before she married Celeborn, but the show would have to get permission to use that from the estate and it seems a bit strange now to do that.

I agree too it could be a hand/ring kiss and I've thought this since the filming video came out for the music in the s2 finale. However, now the show in ep 2.2 showed she's in love with Halbrand/Sauron. Then yesterday we got confirmation from their main director in a podcast interview that by the end of the season she said the show will show that Sauron actually loves Galadriel too. So it's more of a tragic love story as they both are in love but they are enemies and we know it ends tragically and they can't be together. So it's starting to seem possible they do actually share a kiss. I don't want to get my hopes up too high but it does seem to be leaning that way, especially with it being "shocking" as me being a fan since the movies came out when I was in high school I never thought I'd ship them and some still don't see it as romantic, but this would actually prove it is.

So we'll see what happens and I'm sure we'll get more clues each week with the new episodes. And about that scene with the hood I think it's either an arc or Adar. We know she gets captured by them but also ends up working with him. So it could be when that happens.

[localspiderboy]

Hello could you possibly do a fiona gallagher x ftm reader who is debby’s friend/tutor that usually gives her free home made food is she gives him something in return(ice-cream) and he is on testosterone and had top and bottom surgery

You Give You Recieve | Fiona Gallagher x FTM!Reader

summary: You and Fiona grow closer as she thanks you for looking out for her sister.

genre: fluff

word count: 458

DNI WOMEN/FEM ALLIGNED I have gn content that I have no problem with you interacting with :)

a/n: Love this! Thanks for sending it in, sorry for the wait. I kept it kinda short my brain is on a writer's strike lol. Sorry if she's ooc it's been a little bit since I watched the show. I feel so icky I've never written under 500 words lol but I'm getting back into the swing of things. Might expand on this! It's not really mentioned that reader is ftm but if I do another part I will talk about it more.

“Thanks again for helping me out y/n, and for the dinner.” 

You smiled as you walked Debbie to her door, she had been coming to you for after-school tutoring sessions for the last month. It’s been a really big help for her you’re able to explain things in a way that makes it much easier to understand. 

“No problem Deb, I made extra for Carl and Liam too, make sure to give it to them.” Just as she was turning to open the door her sister Fiona stepped out, on her way to take out the trash. 

“Hey Fi!” Debbie greeted her sister quickly before she rushed inside, she must be eager to try what you made for her this time. Fiona and you both chuckle at her antics. 

“Let me get that for you.” You offered and take one of the trash bags from her hands.

“Oh, you don't have-”

“Fiona.” You cut her off and gave her a look that she knew meant you weren’t taking no for an answer. 

Fiona sent you a grateful smile and simply nodded her head. Together you both walked to the curb to set the trash out. 

“Thank you again Y/n.” 

You shrugged as you set the trash bag down. “Eh, no problem these looked heavy so-”

“Not for the trash.” She laughed.  “For tutoring Deb and always sending her home with dinner.” 

“Oh well yeah, I love Deb she’s a smart kid and I always seem to make too much so it’s no problem.”  

You smiled at her and took the time to really get a look at Fiona’s appearance. She looked tired, she’s always tired. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her hair was in a disheveled ponytail. She must have just gotten off work. Still. She looked beautiful.  You know she’s been picking up extra shifts lately. If you could do something to lessen her load you’d gladly do so in a heartbeat, hence the homemade meals you’ve been purposely making extra of. 

Fiona and you had been friends in high school and have only recently gotten back in touch but it really feels like nothing has changed. Despite her not really being able to recognize you when you reconnected although you can't fault her for that.

“I wanna make it up to you, you know for taking care of Deb and everything.”

“Fiona you don’t have to.” 

She had given you the same look you’d given her just moments before and it made you laugh, reluctantly you nodded accepting her offer. 

“The place I’m working at has really good ice cream. My treat?” It was less of a question and more of a demand. 

 “How could I possibly say no to that?” 

Like the fic? consider reblogging! <3

[spaceyaceface]

Hello! Rumor is you want some Ominis ideas lol

Idk if this is any good, but I've had this idea where after Sebastian killed Solomon, Anne moved to London in with the reader. The reader hears all about the trios adventures together before Anne was cursed and loves hearing about it. When Anne is ready to reconnect with Sebastian, the reader goes with her and chemistry begins to boil there maybe as Sebastian and Anne want privacy to talk, and the reader hounds Ominis for more stories.

Just an idea, you're free to do what you want with it lol

I'd love to see a fem!reader tho 😊

Hope you have a great day!

Oh this is very good!! I loved this idea, hopefully this turned out at least a bit like how you pictured it! I really wish we had gotten to see Anne, Sebastian, and Ominis interact in the game---it would have been so much fun!

Warnings: none, pure fluff

Word Count: 1.6k

As Anne paced the floor of their London flat, Y/N was reminded how similar she and her twin truly were. She had seen Sebastian pace in the Undercroft many times during her fifth year--now, as the summer before her sixth year drew to a close, she could hardly count the amount of times Anne had done the same.

"Anne, you're going to wear yourself out before they even arrive," Y/N said imploringly. "Come on, sit down."

The brunette sighed, but continued pacing. "I can't help it. Am I sure I'm ready for this?"

"Will you ever be?"

Anne chuckled. "Probably not. I... I have missed them, rather terribly."

Y/N gave a small smile. She had missed her friends, too. Perhaps one especially... but she would see him soon enough. Anne had told her countless tales of their old adventures from before she had been cursed. It had seemed to comfort her to reminisce on the good times---and Y/N, by her part, was absolutely enthralled in the stories she shared.

It was through these stories she learned that Anne had a real knack for picking pockets---"Never to steal or keep anything for my own," Anne had been quick to clarify. "Just to mess with people." And mess with people she had---hiding wands and pocket watches to drive others mad, while she and her companions watched on in amusement. The targets always deserved it, she assured Y/N. Common ones included Leander or Imelda; they'd even managed to hide her broom once, levitating it high above the Quidditch pitch so she had to use one of the rickety school brooms to retrieve it. She'd complained the whole way up and down, threatening every person she saw that if they had any idea who had messed with her broom, they'd better tell her or they'd get a wand up their arse. Somehow, they'd never been found out.

Sebastian, as she had more or less expected, had always pushed the limits. He'd been familiar with the restricted section since his first year, determined to learn every outlawed hex he could get his hands on. When occasion called for it, he'd use them, mostly on older Slytherin students who got on his nerves. He'd usually get away with it, too; that was the power of having an ally like Ominis on their side.

And Ominis---well, Y/N would be lying if she didn't admit that it was any tale involving him that intrigued her the most. Compared to Sebastian, her friendship with the Gaunt boy was slower coming. Because of this, she savored every opportunity to get to know him better, even if just through stories. The image of him slyly breaking rules made her all the more curious about him---of course she knew he was a trouble maker; he just seemed to do it in a sort of style neither Anne nor Sebastian could achieve. Apparently he had a way with nonverbal spells the others hadn't yet ben able to master. With his blindness, he was the image of innocence, able to cast spells left and right without anyone suspecting him. It had led to plenty of lovely stories that Y/N could only dream to witness.

There was one other fact about the boy that she couldn't wait to question him about.

The thought that he would be there soon sent a flutter through her stomach. If she was honest with herself--which she tended to avoid when it came to this topic--she was a bit more fond of Ominis than she probably should have been. There was something different about him, something she didn't feel when Sebastian was around. It frightened her, but excited her all the same. The more she thought about his beautiful eyes, his well-kept hair, his lovely lips---well, maybe she should join Anne in her anxious pacing.

She didn't get the chance. There was a knock on the door, causing Anne to freeze on the spot. Y/N stood from her seat at the kitchen table, moving to answer it. When she opened it, there they stood---Sebastian and Ominis. They were clearly nervous. Sebastian's jaw was clenched hard, and his eyes darted around the room behind her.

Y/N smiled at them, trying to calm them. She opened the door wider, then reached forward to take Sebastian into a hug. "It's so good to see you," she said. The letters she had sent to both the boys had been brief and far in between. She could hardly believe they were here standing before her now. Sebastian returned the hug. She could feel him relax a bit at the warm welcome. Y/N pulled away, then turned to Ominis.

She had to hug him now, didn't she? Not that she didn't want to---quite the opposite, in fact---but they had never---

She forced herself not to think of it and pulled him into a hug. He was stiff for a moment before returning the gesture. He was warm and smelled of fancy soap.

When they pulled away from each other, she found herself missing the contact. But she had other matters to attend. She ushered them both in, closing the door. Sebastian and Anne stared at each other, each unsure of what to do. Then, in a synchronized movement only twins could have, they moved forward to embrace one another. Y/N smiled---that was a good start.

The group shared pleasantries for a moment, but it was clear that the siblings needed to discuss things on their own. Anne lead Sebastian to her bedroom, shooting Y/N a nervous glance. She gave her a reassuring smile in return.

This left Y/N and Ominis alone. Ominis took in a deep breath beside her. "I suppose all we can do now is wait," he said.

"I'm just going to assume it's going well until I hear explosions," Y/N said. Ominis chuckled.

"Sounds fair enough."

She took them over to the kitchen table, both of them taking a seat.

"How's your summer been?" Y/N asked.

"Admittedly, not wonderful," he said. "Sebastian's been... in a bit of state, as I'm sure you can imagine."

Y/N pressed her lips together. "I can. I got as much from his letters. He's lucky to have had you by his side to get through it. Any more mentions of Dark Magic?"

"Thankfully, no. He seems thoroughly dissuaded from that path, having had time to process the results." Y/N was glad to hear it---she had worried about her friend. Ominis continued. "What about you? How has your summer been with Anne?"

"Difficult, at times," she said. "Obviously, she's been grieving, not only her Uncle but Sebastian as well... it's only been recently she's decided that he can't be completely lost." She smiled a bit. "However, I have had my fun in hearing her stories about you three before her curse."

Ominis chuckled. "I hope you don't think any less of us."

"As if I didn't do worse my first year there," Y/N said, grinning. "I actually found most of them very fun--I wish I could have been there. How come you never told me you were so good at nonverbal spells?"

Ominis shrugged. "You never asked."

"Well, you're going to have to teach me," she said. "Oh! And there was one more thing Anne mentioned I wanted to ask you about."

He smiled, intrigued. "And what would that be?"

"Is your puffskein impression as good as she says it is?"

Ominis's face flushed bright red. The reaction made her laugh---it also made her heart beat faster. His cheeks looked rather pretty dusted that shade of pink.

"You---she told you that?" he spluttered, obviously mortified.

"She did, with the utmost respect, too. Said you've probably shortened Duncan Hobhouse's lifespan by a few years from all the frights you gave him," she said through her laughter. "Of all your exploits, that is what I longed to see the most."

"In fairness, Duncan is absolutley dreadful. And a coward," Ominis said.

"So you're confirming it, then? You purr just like a puffskein?"

"I--" He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. "I suppose I am. But only to torture that good for nothing cowardly prick."

She grinned. "Whatever excuse helps you keep your dignity."

"You know, I didn't come here to find out Anne had given you material to blackmail me."

"I won't use it to blackmail you," she said. "Just to rile you up a bit. You look cute when you're flustered."

Her mouth closed quickly as Ominis lifted his head, smirk appearing on his face.

"Oh, do I?" he said, tone teasing. His face was still flushed, making it even harder for her to come up with a proper response.

"You---um... I---"

"I'll have you know, you sound rather cute when you're flustered," he said quietly, leaning a bit closer to her.

She couldn't have guessed what would have happened next, though she very much would have wanted to know. Unfortunately, the door to Anne's bedroom opened, and Ominis sat straight up in his chair. She couldn't imagine the pair of them looked like anything less than a couple of kids caught doing something they weren't supposed to do. That thought was confirmed when Sebastian narrowed his eyes, looking at them both.

"Are you both alright? You seem a bit flustered," Sebastian said. Ominis let out a small laugh while Y/N buried her face in her hands beside him.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for insisting my roommate not get me a Christmas present/WIBT if I insist even more?

🎁 so I can find this later!

TLDR WIBTA if I insist harder than I already have that my (unaware of being transphobic) roommate not get me a gift for Christmas, since my being autistic and nonbinary may complicate things?

Sorry for the long one, there's a lot of context going into this.

I (18X) am a college freshman and am rooming with a person I didn't know beforehand. Our rooming situation is weird, so neither of us had talked to each other at all before moving in. I'll call her S (18F).

S is a very big gift-giver; it's her love language. She's gotten me a couple things in the past and has wanted me to try things so she can see if they'd make for good gifts. The problem is, I'm more on the masc side of being nonbinary, as well as the fact that I have low-intensity ASD, so usually the stuff she would want to get me (skin care, makeup, etc) is never exactly my style (most notably, she wanted me to see how a skin cream felt and I ended up complaining a bit too much, embarrassingly, before realizing that it was rude and assuring her that I appreciated the gesture, which I think helped her feel a little bit better) (another add-on, she knows I'm nonbinary, but still refers to me as a girl and uses she/her for me, which is why she keeps wanting me to try feminine products. I've played it off as not caring because I'm low key a little scared of her lol (in the way that anxious people are scared of confident people))

Because of said confidence, she tends to dominate conversations, and I'm always happy to listen, as someone who doesn't talk much myself. Because of this, I know she loves plushies and has a history with them, so for Christmas a couple weeks ago I ordered her a plushie online and snuck it into our dorm for her to find, and she ended up loving it.

Thing is, as she told me this, she said she was going to get something once she went home for the break. Apparently it's going to be expensive, too, since she joked that she told her mom to prepare for an expensive purchase beforehand.

I insisted that she not get me the gift, and that I didn't need one, but she is incredibly stubborn about it and was set in her ways of getting me one.

This is very nice of her obviously, and I appreciate the gesture, but.. I genuinely don't like being given gifts. If it's a mutually-discussed thing before-hand, sure, but most of the time gifts are a no-go. I don't exactly like giving gifts and I dislike being given gifts even more. There's way too much unpredictability, and because of my ASD, whenever I get a gift I don't like, I end up complaining about it without thinking, before realizing it's rude and assuring the person that I really do appreciate it. I've tried working on this before, but it's something I can't help— it literally happens without me thinking. As well as that, I only really knew what she'd liked because I actively listened to her a lot and spent over two months using the information I had gathered on her to get her the perfect gift. I am awful about this, since I'm very bad at coming up with gifts for people and this process— taking multiple months just to figure out what to get her— is the best I can do. I'd much rather hang out with people and buy stuff for them on the town, like paying for a dinner or sweets or whatever. The only reason I went through all of this for her is because 1 I appreciate her trying to be nice to me despite the fact that I am literally the type of person she'd bully in high school, 2 it's Christmas, and 3 it feels like I'm repaying her for trying to buy me all this stuff

So her getting me this gift just.. wouldn't sit right with me. I'm terrified of her getting me something I won't like and complaining about it before I can even think because of my ASD, and it'd feel like a massive debt to repay that'd eat at me forever. Plus, despite trying her best to respect my identity, she.. doesn't really know how transphobic she is, and I'm worried she might get me something very cutesy feminine that'd either make me 1 act uncomfortable or 2 lie to her and reaffirm her beliefs that I'm just female-lite. So, this is where my problem lies. WIBTA if I insist harder for her to not get me a present, despite it being her love language?

What are these acronyms?

[furiousgoldfish]

How do I decide a career field?

I mean my entire self esteem, self worth and self confidence is destroyed. I hate myself. I don’t think I’m capable of doing anything. I like art, even though it’s very hard for me to do I’m pushing myself to explore as much as I can. I am thinking of going into data analysis but it’s so overwhelmingly scary for me.

I have an MD, but i can’t pursue it because of my mental health issues.

Okay so I might not be the best person to talk about this, because I figured out that career just isn't important to me when I'm just trying to survive, so I don't think any field is worth chasing or putting effort into, for me at least! Job is just something that gives you the means to get survival resources and that is it.

Otherwise I really relate to what you're saying, I also don't feel like I'd be good at any field, don't feel like I'm made for anything and can't see myself doing anything specialized seriously. It's also very difficult to choose a field when you've never gotten to try bunch of things, never had experience doing stuff and you don't really know what you'd enjoy, what you like, or at least what doesn't feel too stressful, overwhelming and impossible.

It's incredibly impressive that you have a MD, that alone signifies great endurance, persistence and intelligence on your part, and it's awful that mental health issues prevent you from doing anything related to it (I feel the same tho, my degree is in the closet, never seen or used at all lol)

I think the best way to decide is to talk to people who work in various fields and ask them what their day-to-day work is like, and figure out where you see yourself, where you fall in easily, or at least what seems doable, not too stressful, not overwhelming. What doesn't make you hate yourself. I'm just doing cleaning but I couldn't be more pleased because it's very obvious when I've done well and it's so low stakes that pretty much nothing can go wrong. Nobody ever complains either. In fact yesterday I got a text message from a client saying I did amazing, I mean that kind of stuff is ideal to my mental state.

I think we're raised to believe that our career needs to be something very significant, something that creates a place for us in the world, the proof that we're useful to society and that we made something out of ourselves! We need to show off our success and our identity needs to be tied to what we do. And we need to be good at it and make a difference in the world with it.

Well in the current capitalistic climate, this is bullshit. The only socially useful jobs are the ones which get no recognition, no social acceptance, no praise, no acknowledgment, in fact you're looked down upon if you just do manual jobs that are incredibly necessary to keep the society going.

The jobs where you can reach high success and high paycheck - are the ones that make rich people richer, and that is not what I'm about. I mean it's not what anyone really wants to do, but it's the only thing that is considered successful and admirable, and I hate it, don't want to participate in it, makes me want to run away from capitalism.

And also it's a myth that you need to be really good at your job because people do bad jobs constantly and get paid and they don't feel bad at all, lots are bad on purpose and use their jobs to do evil, and get away with it, so there's no pressure to be perfect at your job. If it gets done thats all that matters.

So if you can find anything that just fulfills the purpose of getting your survival resources to you, go for it. If you feel like data analysis is what makes you pleased and happy, go for that. If art makes you feel good, you can do that too! You don't have to have only one job, you can change jobs multiple times during your life, it doesn't need to define who you are, you are not here to serve the society, you're here to survive and you can do your job for yourself only. It's supposed to serve you, not the other way around. You don't exist only to do your job. You exist to be safe, and happy, and fulfilled, and safe. A job is supposed to do this for you, and it doesn't matter which one, as long as you're not being tormented by stress and fear, it's fine.

So what I'm trying to say, the world should not pressure you into making a quick decision, you should take your time trying out stuff and finding what works for you, and what doesn't make you feel awful about yourself. And also if it helps, everyone has a sort of a low confidence when only starting! Everyone is bad at everything when they're starting. Confidence will come with experience, when you see yourself getting better at something trough the years, you will get a chance to gather some faith in yourself and know you're doing well. You can follow any interest you have, regardless of how well or bad you're at it, as long as it can secure you some income. It's okay to be bad at first too because everyone is kinda bad at first.

Also, I've seen some people incredibly confident in their work while doing an awful job at it, it was pretty scary. Like they were doing active harm to society and didn't understand how anything actually worked but boasted about how capable they are because they were picking up a high paycheck. When I think there's people like that, and then others are worried about not being good at anything, it makes me stunned. I truly believe that no matter what you do, you'll never do as much harm as some high-paid people out there.

I hope you don't have a horrible time deciding anon! It's a difficult spot in life for anyone, so don't worry if it takes a bit of time or if you choose something and then quit, it just brings you a step closer to what you actually like doing, and it's a good thing to try things out and pick out the one that works best for you.

[mezmer]

And before I say another word, I will always feel nothing but empathy for those who suffer chronic pain and I only wish I could make a difference and support these people because I know how much it means to them. Jjahaahaha why the fuck is it so hard for people to talk with me about scoliosis. Epilepsy they're all ears asking me questions. And women with Endo? LOOOVE to talk about their condition. Haa. And of course I genuinely, organically, love to listen to others talk about their chronic illnesses because I know how important it is, and I'm interested to hear their experiences. No hate on women with endometriosis. They just love to talk about it especially when people listen intently. It just hurts so bad how hard it is to get even my own family to give a single fuck beyond "I'm sorry wow changes subject immediately" or "yeah I knew a girl with that back in high school" shit blows my mind. I'm not selfish for wanting an ounce of attention paid to it because I've hardly ever gotten that. I connected to my friend with scoliosis who died of an overdose. Fleetingly, a five minute conversation that meant the entire world, I could cry. The face she made, while telling me what I already know, my truth per se she lived all the same and she lost the battle. God bless her soul and her daughter who lives on. Plus my spinal therapist, Isabella and Ravi, and that is it.

Haha I've known women with scoliosis who are so turned off by me trying to connect. John tells me, well maybe you shouldn't dwell on it. When the fuck do I? Yeah, right now on my tumblr. Irl I dont say a fucking word because nobody has ever cared.

Oh my God, so worth mentioning. When I was younger and naive, I had men find out about my spinal deformity and show so much concern right up to the point they'd say "would a back rub help?" Just to get me to expose my body and allow them to touch my bare skin. I was so fucking foolish. I was so young and so excited anyone cared. I just thought since I mostly spent my time with men, it would make sense they'd show concern. Well, turns out women don't offer teenage girls backrubs. So idiotic. I yearn for anyone to give a fuck. I don't understand why I get fucking interviewed about epilepsy but my spine (bane of my existence, actively ruins almost every aspect of my life, I never have flare-ups, my spine is constantly regressing and worsening. I wake up every morning in a deformed body that is collapsing in on itself. Lol) and I mean whatever. Like I said, I'm hardly asking anything. If things were 5% better. If my family just asked how it's going. I don't give a fuck about anyone helping me with the groceries, I just want somebody to care and it's been like this since my diagnosis. My own parents cut the conversation short every time. What is wrong with the way I speak?

[lokigayforhela]

Hi!! I love the way you depict hela so much, everytime I get a notif from you I drop everything to go see what you posted lol💙 could I please request some hurt/ comfort? Reader with past trauma getting in an argument with hela (doesn't matter what they're fighting over) and maybe hela moves or throws her hands up in exasperation and reader flinches? I wanna see how hela would react to reader flinching away from her and the comfort afterwards pretty please💙💙💙

TW: Implied Past Abuse

Rating: PG, to be safe

WC: 1835

A/N: I know I sort of disappeared from the face of the earth for the last two months, but I promise I've been working quietly on a few things, including the next chapter of the Power Source AU. I've also been working on editing and fluffing out my debut novel, which I'm hoping to have picked up by a publisher sometime this year, so that's been taking up a lot of my time. But enough about me! Enjoy this little tidbit to tide you over until I finish the next chapter of Power-Hungry!

“Are we gonna talk?”

You looked over to where Hela stood a foot away from you, expression unreadable as she seemed to be putting all of her effort into focusing on the same plate she had been washing for two minutes now. When she still said nothing in response, you nodded to yourself, popping the lid of the Tupperware over your leftovers and turning around to place them in the fridge.

“Guess not.”

You weren’t entirely sure what had gone wrong while you had been out for dinner and some drinks with a few mutual friends. You didn’t know if it was something someone had said, or something someone had done that you hadn’t noticed, but Hela had seemed to get defensive and closed off about halfway through the meal, which wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence for her, but it was one that always raised concern when you picked up on it. You had hoped on the drive home she would say something, and when that hadn’t happened, you’d held out for an explanation once you’d gotten back to the comfort of your own home, and yet here you were, still without answers.

Communication was something that you held with high importance, especially when it came to relationships and the people you loved. You’d had some… less than great experience with partners in the past, which had lead you to be skittish and constantly worried that if you said or did the wrong thing without realizing it, you would be punished for it. It was an awfully horrible way to live, and once you’d managed to get away from it, you’d sworn you would never let that lack of communication back into your life again.

Which was exactly why you were determined to get Hela to talk about what had happened, so you could understand her better and help her process whatever it was that had set her on edge.

“Look,” you finally said, closing the refrigerator door and leaning on it as you angled yourself to face where Hela was standing. “I don’t know what bothered you, and I’m really sorry that I didn’t catch it. But I can’t help you process it if you don’t tell me what happened.”

To your surprise, Hela huffed out a laugh. “This again.”

You blinked. “…I’m sorry?”

“This. You. Always needing to know everything. It’s a bit overdramatic, don’t you think?”

You stammered as you tried to work out where she was coming from, and unfortunately, your anger got the better of you, and you spoke before you could properly think. “I’m overdramatic? I’m just trying to get you to talk about what happened so that we can work through it together and-”

“It’s none of your business,” Hela snapped, finally setting the dish down in the drying rack with enough force that the sound startled you, and turned around to face you. “You’re never giving me the space to process my emotions on my own, and it was kinda cute at first, but now it just feels like you need to know everything and I’m tired of it.”

“Hela…” This was not where you had seen the conversation going, and your anger was giving way to the overwhelming feeling that you had just fucked up the only good thing in your life. “I just-”

“Just what? Hm? I’m allowed to have things that I keep to myself, Y/N. I’m allowed to process and feel my emotions on my own.”

“I’m not saying that you can’t, I just want to help.”

“And I’m saying I don’t need it!” Hela raised her hands above her head in what you, reasonably, knew was just a show of frustration. But all of the sudden, you found yourself traveling back to a time when saying the wrong thing had earned you a verbal berating when you were lucky, and a physical reminder when you weren’t. And like a horribly unfair magic tragic, suddenly you were the scared, anxious person afraid to speak or even breathe around the person that was supposed to love you.

And you reacted the same way you had reacted back then. You stumbled backward, putting what distance you could been yourself and Hela, and you could tell that she recognized her mistake immediately as she froze, gaze softening with worry and regret as she took in the state of you.

“Y/N… Y/N, I-I…” She stumbled over her words, and reached a hand out for you, then seemed to think better of it and let it fall to her side. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, and you thought your heart might stop right in your chest as you waited for whatever came next.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry.” Hela’s voice was hardly above a whisper, and when she opened her eyes, you could see that they were wet with tears. “I shouldn’t have raised my voice, and I shouldn’t have frightened you like that.” She took another slow breath, and gestured toward the living room. “…let’s sit and talk. About this and about earlier.”

You could still feel your body tense with high alert, but you made yourself nod, waiting for Hela to move first before you followed after her, keeping some space between you as you sat down on the sofa with her.

“I shouldn’t have gone off on you like that. You were only trying to help, and I know that. I just…” She heaved a sigh that felt so vulnerable that you felt yourself relaxing the slightest bit. “I don’t know how to accept help. I never have.”

You waited a beat, in case she wasn’t finished speaking, but when she said nothing else, you nodded slowly. “…I know that. I shouldn’t have pushed. You’ve… always come to me, when you’ve needed to. And you would have done the same tonight, too. Realistically, I know that. I just…” You heaved a sigh, wrapping your arms more tightly around yourself just because it was the best way you knew to self-soothe when you were actively struggling with your fight or flight response. “Like I said, I want to help. And I can’t stand seeing you when you’re upset, and… and knowing you’re upset but not knowing why or how to help you not be upset.”

You risked a brief glance at her, and found that she had completely softened, no longer looking quite so standoffish, and while you were grateful for that, your brain and your nerves were still on high alert. Another wonderful parting gift from your ex, to put it mildly.

“I know. And I wish that I wasn’t so… averse to accepting help. But I need you to know that I’m working on it. Even if it doesn’t seem like it, I am.” She met your gaze, then, eyebrows knitting together with worry as she looked at you. “You do know that. Yes?”

You heaved out a quiet sigh and nodded slightly. “Of course I do. And I’m proud of you for trying.”

Hela nodded, and seemed to relax a fraction of a bit more, and you tried to do the same, but couldn’t help the way your heart was still racing. Like your brain was convinced you weren’t out of the woods yet even as your emotions wanted desperately to settle. Hela seemed keenly aware of the war that was going on in your head, though, and hesitantly reached out a hand to settle against your arm.

“I want to apologize, too, for what happened in the kitchen. I knew better than to make a sudden, angry movement like that. I knew better and you deserved better. And I’m sorry that I made you feel like you were back in that situation.”

You shrugged a shoulder, only because that was all you could think to do, despite knowing that things were certainly not okay enough to garner a simple shoulder shrug in response. Hela saw right through this, as well, and shook her head.

“No, no. No appeasing me. No trying to tell me its fine. Your brain has just been teleported back to a time where you felt extremely unsafe. But you’re not there. You’re not then. You’re here and you’re now and you’re with me, and I need you to tell me truthfully what you need to ground yourself.” A pause, as her fingertips trailed down to settle at your wrist hesitantly. “…can I hold your hand? Would that be okay?”

After a brief moment, you gave a nod, and Hela gently took both of your hands into her own, cradling them but not gripping them, so that you had the option to remove them if you felt the need. Autonomy. Something you hadn’t had much of, before.

“What else, my love? Should I keep talking you through it? Sing off-key?” Hela was trying to get you to smile, and that earned her the barest ghost of one. “Cuddles in silence?”

You hesitated at that, and then nodded, letting Hela carefully envelope you in her arms and pull you into her lap. Even as she held you, her arms were loose around you. Not even fully encircling you, giving you an out if you needed one. It made you feel safe in a way that you hadn’t known, before you’d met her.

You could feel yourself relaxing more and more, and the more you settled, the more lovey Hela became with you, pressing the occasional kiss to your forehead or carding her fingers through your hair softly as she held you, letting you come back to yourself at your own pace.

After a while, you were feeling much more present, and much less trapped in your own head, and you glanced up at her, expecting her to be already looking at you but her gaze seemed a little distant, transfixed on some point across the room.

“…you never said what upset you. At dinner,” you pointed out timidly, a small part of you still afraid that bringing it up again might cause another round of arguments.

But Hela only pressed her lips together and shook her head as she looked down at you. “You know, I can’t even remember anymore. Must have been something small and superfluous. Fleeting.”

You considered that for a moment, analyzing her to tell if she was being truthful. When you were satisfied that she was, you spoke again. “And you’re not… mad at me? For…”

“Of course not.” Hela cut you off before you could even finish the sentence. “And I’m sorry that I made you feel that way. I spoke out of anger and frustration, and you didn’t deserve that in the least. Not now, not ever.”

You nodded, and laid your head against her shoulder, making yourself comfortable as you felt the tension melting away further bit by bit. “…can we watch something on Netflix? Your pick?”

“Of course we can, my love.” Hela smiled softly, and pressed another kiss to the top of your head. “Of course we can.”

[fyeahnix]

I've been slacking on HFW updates here so here are my tweets over the last couple of days compounded in sequential order:

Another of my favorite things about Horizon, which I probably mentioned when I played ZD, is how Aloy uses technology to enhance her own skills. It's so easy to let tech do all the heavy lifting for us, but she never does that. Even without the Focus, she's still a competent and crafty hunter. And that's fucking cool. Also I just really like Aloy in general. Such a great character.

I like to think Talanah is still overall a better hunter than Aloy and would be absolutely OP with a Focus. She had to get nerfed some type of way. This is based on absolutely nothing but vibes because I cannot remember every single event from the first game nor did I read the comic. Sorry lol

Forbidden West has done a fantastic job so far of adding in a bunch of cool new shit to play around with on top of what you got in the last game, including the expansion of the climbing mechanic. I can't even imagine how they'll top this if there's a third game coming at some point in the future. No, I am nowhere near done with this. I've only just started, haven't even GOTTEN to the actual Forbidden West yet. It was just a point I wanted to make. THIS is how I feel a sequel should be done.

The only thing truly frustrating me about HFW right now is the vantage points. I love the concept in theory, but in practice....ugh. idk if I'm having issues with spatial awareness or what..but getting feedback that's like "maybe I'm too high? Maybe I'm too low. Maybe I'm not close enough?" Kinda sucks because I FEEL like I'm close but the game is so super specific about specific angles. I got to the correct spot like 10 times but because I wasn't looking at the exact angle, it wasn't completing. It's a skill issue on my part probably but it is still very frustrating.

Now that I'm really looking at the map, No Man's Land feels like "Starter Area #2" lmfao

Monster Hunter solidified for me that I love the feeling of saying "OOOO SHIT" when I see another large monster. Saw the first Snapmaw and just had that same feeling lol. Horizon series is literally Monster Hunter Jr for me and I mean that with all the love and praise in the world. Ofc I am going to be shocked when I see A Very Large Monster lurking around in the water when I wasn't expecting it.

Aloy is doing The Protagonist Thing and I love it. Really showcasing her flaws in this game.

I appreciate the fact that Aloy is like "I can't fucking cook, taking this shit to an actual chef" when she picks up ingredients. We love honesty.

Goddamn the tattoo work on these characters in Forbidden West is so GOOD

It is very cool to see Aloy's vocabulary around Old World tech evolve between the two games. She has clearly learned quite a lot.

The way Aloy says hi to a certain character is so reminiscent of how she said hi to the first hologram she saw on the Focus. How cute lol.

Very very interesting how different tribes describe Aloy's hair color. Like it's such a SMALL detail but really shows the level of attention they put into making the tribes culturally significant from each other.

There is just so much to talk about with this game.... But the food you can buy...so much juicy lore and worldbuilding in the descriptions. I LIVE for shit like this

[zepskies]

Hey Lovely! For the ask game, I'm requesting #4, #7, and #24.

Thanks!! ❤️

Well hello there, friend! 🥰

Oh my, good questions...

Hahaa oh lord. I mean, how much time do you have? 🤣 I have entire files worth of ideas from different fandoms that I've even gone so far as to outline, but have never gotten around to writing.

I think the first ones that come to my head are two series ideas in the Smallville fandom:

Hanging By a Moment - Clark Kent x OC

Summary: The path of Clark Kent’s life changed drastically after he turned sixteen. It was choice, it was happenstance, it was destiny—all in one. He didn’t know it yet, but it was always going to be her.

(Yes, title is based on the song by Lifehouse. 😂)

Keep Holding On - Jason Teague x OC

Summary: Try as Jason might, he just couldn’t compare to Clark Kent. Not in Lana’s eyes at least. Elena is the casualty of war, caught in between.

Both sound very melodramatic now that I read the summaries next to one another. 😂 The main reason why I haven't written these, I guess, is because I feel like the Smallville fandom has mostly died out. Tumblr especially doesn't really support OCs as much as reader inserts, and these stories both needed to be OCs to give me the freedom to create as much backstory and character as I wanted to.

Oh a DEEP CUT you say? 🤣 Oh God, I've been writing since I was about 10 or 11 years old (and let me tell you, it was heinous).

I think my very first fanfic was for an anime called Rurouni Kenshin. It was an AU set in present time. It was that cliché thing where the heroine is sitting at a bar and is getting hit on, but she doesn't give the guy the time of day until her boyfriend (the main male lead of the show) shows up.

That character was known for being a spitfire, so she was good at putting people in their place lol. Her boyfriend is the more mild-mannered of the two, but still very protective, so I guess that's where the idea came from in my kid brain. I've long ago deleted that story off FF.net because it was so damn bad.

My first SPN fanfic, however, can be found here on Ao3. It's also pretty rough because I wrote it back in high school when I was first watching the show, first on FF.net, then transferred it over later to Ao3.

Another interesting question... 🤔

It can take me a bit to get myself into that creative headspace, but when I'm working on a one-shot, I tend to power through the draft until I finish it in a day, maybe two if it's long (5,000+ words let's say).

If we're talking about a series, I try to knock out at least a chapter at a time in one writing session, which could take me a couple hours or several more, depending on length and how detailed my outline is, if I need to do additional research, etc.

If I really have a good flow going, sometimes I can knock out 2-3 chapters in a day. I'll have a solid 1-3 hour writing session towards the beginning of the day, take a break for a few hours, run some errands, go on a walk, have a meal, and come back to it later. I tend to do the bulk of my writing in the afternoon and throughout the night.

Thanks again for asking these questions, lovely!! 😘💜 Always happy to answer.