#anyways thanks to my friend for suggesting i do this

[siddyyyyyyyy]

Unhinged two

Jason Todd x Reader

MDNI

(part one)

wc: 1.2 K summary: your roommate finds your messages you send your friend about him. warnings: suggestive content, no y/n used a/n: since some of you wanted a part two of this, I gladly made one. (this came out a little rushed as well, not proofread! sorry!!) Enjoy!!

The moment he left the room, you grabbed your phone and made sure to never open that chat again. You still feel borderline embarrassed and ashamed, realising how weird it is.

Sighing out, you calm yourself down and sip on your tea, hands trembling from your racing heart. After another exhale, you start to think of what to do.

You need to apologise. That‘s the least you could do with a situation like this, after… you can‘t even think about it!

From the silence that lingers around the whole apartment, it‘s clear that Jason is probably expiriencing a mental breakdown too. Now that you think about it, you can‘t really imagine how he feels like after finding out about your dirty thoughts about him.

You don‘t even finish your tea before you sprint off the living room, throwing over your coat and storm outside to get him a proper apology.

Meanwhile, Jason is concerned. He started to look for his therapist‘s number on his phone, but hesitated actually clicking on it. What, should he say that he read through his roommate‘s messages and now wants to kill himself because of the pure filth that was written about him?

No, surely no one will believe him, or at least make fun of him if they believe him.

The safest option would be to keep it for himself, or tell Dick. Yeah, the safest option would be to keep it to himself.

Outisde of his room, he hears the front door click open again, laying his phone down as he contemplates wether to go out or not. His thoughts get interrupted once he hears soft knocks against it.

»Yeah?« Shit, he should‘ve said he is busy.

»Can I come in? I, um… I need to apologise.«

A hint of shame comes through your tone, head hanging low behind the door. There‘s clearly nothing more pathetic than this situation. The silence that follows after only makes your nerves run higher, making your shift on your feet.

»‘Kay.«

Jason is great at pretending to be non-chalant. But it‘s an answer, at least.

So you walk in. And stop in the doorframe, boquet of flowers in hand, his favourite order at the local fast food restaurant in the other. A pathetic expression on your face. He has to stop himself from reacting surprised and both pleased at the action, remembering what happened just a few moments ago.

»So… about those messages. I won‘t sugarcoat it, I did send them, there‘s no excuse I can use. But I won‘t do that again and I don‘t actually think of you in that way. I just… had to describe to my friend how you look like.«

You shrug at the end, placing the smaller paperbag onto his nightstand and hold the boquet in both of your hands for now. It‘s difficult, embarrassing and devistating, saying something in hopes that he will forgive you and let you stay in the shared apartment.

Truth be told, Jason couldn‘t feel more touched by this, trying so hard to keep his composure. He fails either way, the corners of his mouth curling up ever so faintly as he shakes his head.

»You didn‘t need to bring me flowers for that, but… thanks? And, I won‘t look into your phone again. Ever.«

That‘s a relief, handing over the boquet of flowers anyway. He takes them, finally smiling down at them. That‘s not how he expected to receive flowers, he never thought he would get them at some point in his life anyway.

»There‘s also you favourite order, I‘ll leave for now, just… uh— don‘t kick me out.«

Now he has to chuckle, putting the flowers away before he takes a look into the bag of food.

»Oh, I won‘t. It would be boring without you, no?«

He muses as he glances back up to you, an amused and teasing glint in his eye. Of course… he will never let you live that down.

From then on, every time you were slightly annoyed over something he did, Jason simply pulled out the ‚Remember how you talked about me to your friend?‘-card and instantly makes you shut up. But sometimes, you ignore that and go on about the rant you were currently holding.

»No, Jason, I don‘t care, and this happened two months ago! You should be able to clean at least the counter after cooking or baking something.«

You track back to the current argument, waving frustrated to the countertop that has traces from flour and butter.

Instead of getting hissy too, he simply tilts his hxcead, boxing you up against said counter.

»Say again?«

You go silent, staring up at him with big, shocked eyes, standing there at a loss of words.

In short, his ego grew a lot bigger after the initial shock wore off. He started to use such tactics in harmless arguments, before he just used them randomly to tease you. And lucky for him, it worked every damn time. He is sure you already texted every single encounter like this to your dear friend – and he is dying to know if his theory is true – but he won‘t check your phone again, simply too scared at the same time.

On the other hand, you are secretly enjoying it. No, loving it. What do you mean your hot roommate flirts with you randomly for no reason? You would never trade that for anything else.

The same thing happens on a casual saturday, leaning over the kitchen counter as you scroll through some new recipes on your phone. Jason walks in through the front door, ever so silent that you don‘t notice him coming in, before you hear his soft voice mumble near your ear.

»Watcha cooking?« His hand rests on the counter by your side, dangerously close for your own comfort. But you wont back away or say anything against it, answering him back instead.

»Nothing yet. Looking through stuff.«

He hums in acknowledgement, resting his chin on your shoulder while he watches your phone too.

»Wanna cook something together, then? I brought some groceries.« His hand brushes against your side as he leans away, starting to sort through the bag and put the stuff away that he bought.

After an easy agreement, you both settle on making something simple for dinner, not wanting to waste your energy on something new.

Cooking with him would be relaxing, if his hand wouldn‘t linger around your back or waist every minute. You grew used to it after some time, but it still never fails to make you slightly distracted on your current task.

In general, you noticed that Jason became way more touchy with you after the incident, as well as teasing. You try not mentioning it and simply never talk about it in hopes this will never end, but he secretly wishes you would.

He made a single masterplan in his mind on ultimately asking you out once you start to mention his antics, but there‘s no luck so far. Okay, guitly as charged, he did talk about that with his brother Dick. He follows his advice half-heartedly, hoping for some miracle to happen at the same time until you notice his signs.

←MASTERLIST

[temis-de-leon]

Please make sure to take care of yourself 🥺 Write whenever you feel like it and when you have the time but don't force yourself to write 😤 - Romance Anon

Crush hugging him because of a horror movie - 500 F.C.

Characters: Diavolo x gn!reader

Main Masterlist

500 followers masterlist

Requested by: Romance anon

A/N: Toni Colette, the woman that you are. And thank you Romance, for your never-ending patience <3

C/W: a bit suggestive there at the beginning, pinning, very vague description of Hereditary's ending

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He would be lying if he said having you so close to him, practically sitting on his lap, while moaning a myriad of ‘oh my God’, ‘please, God’ and, his personal favourite, ‘Dia, Dia, Dia…!’ wasn’t affecting him in the slightest. It was, and heavily; he just wished it took place under different circumstances.

Mainly because he was low-key freaking out too, although not as much as you.

Having seen a fair number of sinners, he knew some mortal minds weren’t simple or kind, which made the darkness of life and the suffering of others a rather pleasurable affair for them. It was fascinating, apparently, a broadly studied aspect of human society, and not just one of many media genres, that propelled the pharmaceutical and therapeutic intervention businesses; a cause and a consequence, something that should’ve been avoided or couldn’t have been helped.

And yet, out of all horrors, you chose a demonic possession movie? Were you trying to tease him?

Paimon wasn’t even that bad once you got the chance to meet him properly! He was an erudite whose knowledge covered all the arts, philosophy and science. A friend of Lucifer’s, keen on reciprocity foremost and eager to start a conversation with anyone who offered him the same amount of time and interest as he did. Unfortunately, Diavolo had the tiny suspicion you wouldn’t be in the mood to meet the captivating demon, nor his demanding dromedary, after watching the disturbing movie, but you should really give it a try!

He could still understand you, though.

“Oh, dear” he said in a quiet breath as the boy on the screen slowly turned around and miraculously missed his mother crawling on the walls.

Your eyes, which had been previously peeking between your fingers, closed shut. You turned to press your face against his chest again and he deeply hoped your fear kept you from noticing the rapid beating of his heart and the way his hand closed around your waist to bring you closer. His cheeks burned, not bothering to hide an enamoured smile. There was no use in doing so when you were trying so hard to disappear from the world amongst the creases of his uniform.

Still, you had asked him to watch the film together and he would be more than damned if he disappointed you in such a trivial matter, so he forced himself to look at the screen intensely, even when a naked man loomed from the shadows and the boy had to run away for his life, tripping and falling and barely climbing to the attic on time.

“I have to say, MC” he mustered, eyes open wide as the woman (Annie?) violently banged her head against the trap door while Peter cried in desperation from the other side. “I can’t understand the appeal of watching this. When you said you wanted a movie night, I thought you’d choose something… tamer”

More romantic is what he wanted to say. Diavolo had hoped to understand love from a human standpoint and see what you liked in order to do the same. Rose petals and champagne by the fireplace? Or shopping and dining in the most expensive places in the Devildom? Dancing in the rain? Stargazing? As observant as he was, he had no clue whether you reciprocated his infatuation, so, sadly, he preferred having your full attention on him whenever he showed his feelings; and at that moment not even an emergency would’ve made you let go of his embrace. It's not like he would ever complain about that, anyway.

“I didn’t want to watch the movie alone” you finally whimpered, letting go only enough to look up at him. “And I figured if someone could make me feel protected it would be you”

Your glassy eyes vaguely reflected his speechless expression and, suddenly, he was aware of everything. The weight of your body against his, bringing warmth and comfort, the smell of your clothes and the softness of your skin; your scared pouting and embarrassed blushing. Not knowing what to do with it anymore, he let his free hand awkwardly drop over your calves and immediately almost imploded when you instinctively tucked even closer.

There was no noise for a blissful moment, save for the heavy breathing and the buzzing coming from the speakers, and Diavolo briefly asked himself if a horror movie was still a good background for a love confession.

Then, a wet sound; a sawing motion.

You slowly turned to the gigantic TV, impending doom in your expression quickly morphing into heavy distress when the mother appeared once more on the screen. Your appalled scream almost made him cover his ears before you hid your face in his chest one final time.

“OH MY GOD, DIA, OH MY GOD”

Diavolo just hoped Barbatos wouldn’t ask any questions in the morning.

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Taglist: @ilovecandys2010 @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion @whimsybloom

[maddy-k-reads-all-day]

Lunchtime!

Finally, all the homework is done. Sophie sighs in relief. Now I can watch the next tape. Sophie takes the tape and sticks it into the VCR. It begins to play. 

“Hi friends, I’m Amanda.” Amanda beams. 

“And I’m Wooly…” Wooly smiles. They are standing in the kitchen. 

“And today we’re going to make lunch together for our picnic!” Amanda announces. “We had a picnic with Riley once! It was fun.” Amanda grins. 

“A… picnic…” Wooly says quietly.

“Hm? What was that?” Amanda wonders, Wooly doesn’t respond, he looks deep in thought. “Okay anyway… First we need to make some sandwiches! What’s your favorite kind of sandwich?” Sophie thinks for a moment. BLT. she answers “Really? Oh my gosh me too! Guess what? That’s what we’re going to be making today!” Amanda cheers. 

“I… think I’ll have a PB and J…” Wooly mumbles. 

“What? But you have that every day! And we went out of our way to grow the vegetables and buy the bacon!” Amanda protests. 

“I don’t think I want bacon…” 

“You could just have lettuce and tomato.” Amanda suggests. Wooly still looks unsure. “You know, you should never be afraid to try new things!”

“I want a PB and J.” Wooly pouts. Amanda smiles. 

“Okay Wooly, you can have your PB and J.” she chuckles. “Let’s get our ingredients first! We’ll need bread, lettuce, tomatoes, bacon, and… peanut butter and jelly.” She grabs a step stool and climbs up on the counter. “Can you tell me where the bread is?” she asks. Sophie clicks on it. “Alright, then the peanut butter?” Sophie clicks on that too. “Great!” Amanda stumbles a little as she climbs down. Wooly’s face folds in worry, and he immediately runs over to help her. “I’m okay Wooly, just lost my footing a little. How about you have a turn?” she suggests. 

“Can you tell me where the fridge is?” Sophie clicks on it. “Nice! We need bacon and peach jelly. Do you see them?” Sophie clicks on them. “Thanks!” He puts them on the counter and waits patiently, looking toward Amanda. 

“Wooly… we still need lettuce and tomatoes.” Amanda reminds him. 

“Oh right… those should be…” he walks back to the fridge. Amanda transports them to the garden. “Oh right! I forgot! We gotta pick some more!” Sophie clicks on the lettuce and tomatoes. Amanda and Wooly pick some and put them into a bowl. Then the tape freezes and glitches back into the kitchen. “Now it’s time to make sandwiches!” 

“Um wait a second Wooly, we gotta rinse off the vegetables first.” Amanda reminds him. 

“Right, right.” Wooly chuckles nervously. Amanda looks at him with concern. She waits a moment. As if expecting him to say something more. 

“It’s important to rinse off your vegetables before eating them, and check them for any bugs! You wouldn’t want to find a worm in your sandwich, gross!” Amanda says, “Where do we rinse off our vegetables?” Sophie clicks on the sink. She watches Amanda rinse them off. “Alright! Now it’s time to make sandwiches!” Amanda separates the bread. Wooly just stares at it. “Wooly, is something wrong?” 

“Oh um… I’m… fine.” 

“Really? Are you sure? We can take a break if-” “No Amanda, I’m fine. Really!” 

“Okay…” Amanda still looks worried, “Um…” Amanda looks unsure as to what to do. “Let’s make sandwiches!” the tape glitches and the sandwiches are made. 

“Okay, we got the sandwiches, a blanket, some juice boxes, now all we need is a special treat!” Amanda explains. 

“Wait Amanda… did you fast-forward the tape?” Wooly asks. 

“What? No, I had all this prepared before the episode, remember?” Amanda answers. 

“Amanda you didn’t have to do that.” 

“Wooly I don’t know what you’re talking about. I prepared them all this morning, remember? Oh right, you were asleep.” Amanda recalls. Wooly looks, kinda mad. “If you think I did it for you because I know you’re tired, I didn’t okay? Now let’s get some cooki- you know what, forget cookies. I want cupcakes. Let’s grab some of those instead!” 

“Amanda…” 

“Alright, we got the cupcakes!” the tape glitches. “Now let’s pack our lunch!” Amanda starts putting everything in the picnic basket. “Yay! We’re done, and look, it’s lunchtime! Let’s go have our picnic!” the tape glitches to the park where they had a picnic before. 

“Yay! It’s such a nice day out! It’s a perfect day for a picnic!” Amanda beams. 

“Amanda, those clouds are looking pretty dark.” Wooly points out. “And it’s pretty windy…” Amanda gives him a little glare. 

“Let’s set up our picnic!” she smiles. “First we need to lay out the blanket!” Sophie clicks on the blanket. Amanda tries to lay it out but the wind makes this very difficult. “Wooly, a little help here?”

“Right.” They both try to lay the blanket down, but a gust of wind blows it out of their hands.

“Wa-wait! Wait! Wait!” Amanda runs after it but it flies far away. “My picnic blanket…” she says sadly. “Mmm… Well whatever, we’ll sit in the grass.” 

“But I don’t like sitting in the grass…” Wooly protests. 

“We’re sitting in. The. Grass.” Amanda demands. Wooly nods. “Ah! Sorry! I just… got a little mad about the blanket and… aaaah… I just wanted this picnic to go well!” she groans. 

“It’s okay…” 

“No, I shouldn't have shouted at you like that.” Amanda sighs, “anyway… let’s just eat and get out of here before it rains.” She hands Wooly his sandwich and takes out her own. “Mmmm! These are so good! How’s yours Wooly?” 

“It’s good…” he mumbles, but he hasn’t even taken a bite.

“Are you sure you’re okay Wooly, you’ve been acting kind of… off… today.” 

“No no… it’s fine… I’m…” tears start dripping down his cheeks. “Oh my… heh heh… I guess my allergies are really bad today…” he tries to wipe them away. Amanda comes over and gives him a big hug. 

“Hey… you’re allowed to not be okay.” Amanda tells him. Wooly responds by hugging her really tight. Really really tight. “Ow ow ow… but you are not allowed to break my back.” 

“Amanda… remember our last picnic?” 

“Yeah I- Oh.” Amanda suddenly realizes their last picnic was not so pleasant.

“Sometimes… I feel myself rotting too…” he says quietly. “Amanda… I know I ask this all the time… but are we really getting out of here? Are we really going to be able to go to the real world and do… I don’t know… fun stuff together?” 

“Maybe not Wooly… maybe not…” Amanda sighs, gently petting the fluff on his head, “that’s why I decided… that we might as well have some fun adventures here… make here as comfortable as possible.” 

“Okay…” he sniffles. 

“So Wooly? How are we going to make this place as fun and comfortable as possible, for both of us?” Amanda asks. Wooly thinks about it for a bit. He takes a bite of his sandwich. 

“This really is good.” he says, “Um… I… don’t want to eat meat anymore… it kind of freaks me out.” 

“That’s fine.” 

“And maybe you could stop commenting about my weight?”

“Urk! Have I? Okay… I’ll keep that in mind…” “And… could we lower the cabinets so we can reach them?”

“Alright.”

“And I don’t like it when you do dangerous stuff… and I’d rather not go out at night.” 

“Aww… but what about stargazing?” Amanda asks. 

“That’s fine… and I don’t like it when you talk about death and rotting and stuff…” 

“Mmm… okay. Got it.” “And… could we have warm milk and cookies before bed.” 

“Like… every night? That’s a lot of milk and cookies!” Amanda laughs. Wooly looks sad. “Yeah we can do that…” 

“What about you?”

“Me? Hmm… Well, I don’t like being interrupted. I don’t like it when things go wrong. I wanna try and see just how much we can do in this imaginary world. I don’t wanna go to the library anymore… and I don’t want to talk about Hameln or whether or not we can leave. What happens will happen and whatever happens I’ll be right here by your side, okay?” 

“You’re like a big sister Amanda.” Wooly smiles.

“Is that right?” Amanda chuckles forcefully. She pauses for a moment, “Here’s something else that I want to… and I’m not sure how to say this… because I don’t want you to take it the wrong way but… every now and then… could I have some alone time?”

“What do you mean?” 

“Like… an episode where I just do an activity on my own…” 

“Huh? Why? Di-Did I do something wrong?”

“No, you’re fine. I just want a little me-time sometimes.  Sometimes… I wanna do something by myself with Riley. Or… like you talking to Sophie with the cookies…” 

“How did you-” “I couldn’t sleep either… I guess we kind of had a similar idea but… I didn’t want to interrupt.” 

“Oh… so you heard all that…” Wooly looks a bit… distraught. 

“Not all of it… ah! I didn’t mean to eavesdrop or anything… it was an accident!” Amanda frantically explains, “Look, the point is… I’m glad we’re friends again… it’s just… this time I want us to really be able to depend on each other… but not be dependent on each other.” Wooly looks hurt. Amanda sighs, “I knew this was a bad time…” 

“No no, it’s fiiiine.” Wooly says, sounding annoyed, “I totally get it.” 

“I don’t think you do.” 

“You’re just sick of me aren’t you?” Wooly laughs, pushing Amanda away. 

“See you don’t get it at all!” 

“What do I not get?” Wooly snaps.

“I’m not sick of you! I want to be your friend, I want to be a better friend! I’m trying really hard to respect your boundaries and make things better for you Wooly, all I’m asking is that you do the same.” 

“But I don’t like being alone…” 

“Why not?” 

“Because when I’m alone I start thinking a lot of… dark thoughts… sad stuff…” 

“Well, what do you do when you're alone?” 

“Um… nothing?” 

“Well that’s your issue, you gotta do something. Get a hobby.”

“Like…” 

“Whatever you want. Personally I like to draw.” 

“But I’m not good at drawing.” Wooly pouts.

“Then find something else you like.” Amanda shrugs, “How’s this? If you find something you really like, we can do it together sometime!” 

“Well okay…” he turns to Sophie, “What do you like to do?” Amanda facepalms. Reading. Sophie types. Wooly makes a very disinterested face. 

“See, you got plenty of time to figure it out next time I want some me-time! Got it?” 

“I guess so…” 

“Don’t worry so much Wooly!” Amanda says, this seems to bother him a little, “I’m not saying we’re NEVER going to hang out. I just want a little bit of me-time, okay?” 

“Okay…” Wooly sighs. Just then, the picnic blanket blows by. “Oh, I’ll get it!” Wooly shouts, running after it. He jumps up and grabs it, falling onto the ground. 

“Wooly, are you okay?” Amanda asks, running over. 

“Look, I caught it!” Wooly beams, seeming super proud of himself. Amanda laughs and helps him up. 

“Yeah, you did!” 

“Now we can sit on it!” Wooly points out, “Can you help us?” Sophie clicks on the blanket and they lay it out. 

“Now let’s have some cupcakes!” Amanda beams. She goes back and grabs them. “For you Wooly.” 

“Why thank you.” he giggles. 

“So, are you feeling a bit better now?” 

“I guess so…” Wooly replies. 

“Good. Now let’s enjoy this dang picnic!” Amanda announces, digging into her cupcake. “Mmm so good!” she glances over at Wooly and laughs, “Wooly, you got a bit of frosting on your nose!” 

“Oh really? Ha! Take that!” he snickers, sticking a blob of frosting on Amanda’s nose. They both laugh. 

“See, we can have fun here too.” Amanda says. 

“Ye-yeah!” he replies, still looking a bit unsure. 

“Enjoy your picnic!” Amanda calls out to Sophie, and the tape ends. She turns around and sees a picnic basket. Inside are some toy cupcakes… and the next tape. Aww… I was enjoying those puzzles. Sophie thinks to herself. It looks like things are working out but… I still sense a storm on the horizon. Just then, Riley comes inside. 

“Oh hey, did you get the tapes?” 

“Yeah… only four of them though.” 

“I got some toy cupcakes, and a tape from Amanda without even needing to do a puzzle!” 

“She just gave it to you? Like a freebie? No way! How many tapes have you watched with her?” 

“Only like… four…” Sophie smirks. Riley looks so frustrated and betrayed it makes Sophie laugh. “Maybe she wouldn’t mess with you if you didn’t mess with her so much!” 

“Well fine!” Riley pouts, “If that’s the way it is I guess you’ll be the only one watching the tapes from now on! They shouldn’t mind since they like you sooooo much!” Now Sophie is absolutely cracking up. 

“No no, don’t do that! Amanda was just talking about wanting to spend time with you! Like… just you!” Sophie explains. Riley now seems touched. “She really misses you a ton.” 

“And Wooly?” 

“He seems… happy that you’re gone.” 

“That little-” Riley grumbles, “Oh right, about those demons I mentioned, don’t get Amanda and Wooly too pissed off at you or they will attack you!” 

“Um… excuse me?!” Sophie gasps, immediately catching Riley in a noogie, “Listen here you! I don’t mind you getting me mixed up in this weird, creepy, cult business, but demons? Well I guess they are a demonic cult… but huh? You didn’t think to tell me this BEFORE?”

“I told you the demons were attached to the tapes! I wasn’t really in the best headspace at that point so it kinda slipped my mind.”

“So those cuts and scrapes on your arms?”

“The other demon saved my life. But uh yeah it’s kinda my fault… shouldn’t have pushed Wooly’s buttons like that…” 

“That poor kid constantly looks one wrong word away from a mental breakdown.” Sophie observed. 

“So has Amanda absolutely lost it on you yet?” 

“She gave me some hard puzzles for a bit… but I think I finally got on her good side.” Sophie explains. 

“Scary.” 

“Huh?” 

“You are scary good with kids Sophie. I don’t know how you do it.”

“Well I am studying to become a daycare provider.” 

“Girl you could go to much higher places-” 

“Maybe…” Sophie sighs, “One day I might want to be a child psychologist… but I want to have enough money saved to go to a better school for that.” 

“I told you, I have some inheritance from Aunt Kate-” 

“That you should use for yourself. It’s fine.” 

“I’m sorry Sophie… I shouldn’t have-”

“Nuh-uh. Shut up. You are not going to apologize for getting me involved. I am happy to be involved. I want to be involved. Now do you want to watch the next tape with me?” Sophie smiles, gently rocking the tape in her hand. Riley kisses her on the forehead.

“Of course I do.”

Authors Note: Kay I lied. Ended up having some free time today and I really wanted to write. So here's the next chapter. :) Riley and Sophie's conversation was really funny to write. Next fic is completely fluff. I am committing myself to one completely fluff fic for you guys (This will be very hard for me, lol). But only cuz I want Amanda and Wooly to have some fun!

[runariya]

🐉 🥰 🤪 

  Hello! Sorry about my english hehe   I saw the owl hybrid suggestion and I loved it! When I saw that it was a Brazilian who asked, I gathered the courage to ask too.   

Jin a polar Bear hybrid, has to deal with a tearful but proud hybrid weasel reader being the aftermath of a fight she had earlier (( reader is slightly chaotic  with issues when others underestimate her)), I thought of friends to lovers but you choose!   If you don't feel like doing it, that's okay! and thanks anyway ^^ 

Ps: I love your stories and stay hydrated 

(hybrid+fluff+crack) part of the prompt game pairing: polar bear hybrid!Seokjin x weasel hybrid!female reader genre: hybrid!AU, F2L, fluff warnings: tears, arguments, fluff word count: 1.656

a/n: tysm for enjoying my fics 💕

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Jin does not do drama.

It’s an unspoken rule, a cornerstone of his perfectly balanced life. Being a polar bear hybrid, he prefers calm and consistency, the metaphorical ice floes of life unbroken by messy emotions or unnecessary noise. He cooks, he naps, he thrives in quiet competence. It’s a system. A good system.

Until you happened.

A chaotic little weasel hybrid with too much energy and far too much to prove, you are Jin’s exact opposite in every conceivable way. Where he likes calm, you like chaos. Where he prefers a steady pace, you charge ahead like a spring, dragging trouble and arguments in your wake. And worst of all? You’re completely, infuriatingly impossible to ignore.

It’s a problem. A big, squeaky, twitchy-whiskered problem.

Currently, that problem is sitting cross-legged on his sofa, eyes puffy from crying with your chin jutting out stubbornly like you’re trying to prove a point. Jin’s just finished making tea, and he’s carefully, painstakingly ignoring the tension that’s been hovering between the two of you since the argument earlier.

It wasn’t even that serious of an argument. At least, it wasn’t supposed to be.

“You don’t have to keep proving yourself to everyone, you know,” Jin had said after you’d stormed back from yet another confrontation with some snide stranger at the market. You’d gone head-to-head with a fox hybrid twice your size over a misunderstanding about a loaf of bread.

And okay, maybe Jin was impressed, just a little. You don’t back down, not even when it’s entirely ill-advised. But it’s also exhausting.

Your response to his perfectly reasonable observation? You’d gone completely feral.

“Oh, so now I’m the problem?” you’d snapped, your furred tail puffed out in indignation. “I’m sorry for not being a massive bear who can just exist without people assuming I can’t handle myself!”

He doesn’t remember exactly what he said after that, probably something annoying, because that’s what he does, but the point is, you’d stormed off in a huff, and Jin had been left wondering why he even cares about your scrappy, loud, chaotic self.

Except now, you’re back, sitting on his sofa and looking like you’ve just gone through some kind of emotional washing machine.

He can’t ignore it. He wants to, but he can’t. The way your shoulders sag just slightly, the way your claws tap against each other around the cup you’re holding, it’s all tugging at some annoying instinct inside him.

He clears his throat, finally sitting down across from you. “So…” he starts, careful not to sound too curious. “You’re back.”

You glare at him, but it’s half-hearted. “Obviously.”

Jin raises an eyebrow. “You’re drinking my tea.”

“You owe me tea,” you retort. “For being mean earlier.”

“I wasn’t mean. I was logical. There’s a difference.”

You snort, but there’s no real bite to it. “Your logic is condescending, Jin. Maybe if you actually listened to me for once, you’d understand.”

And there it is again, that spark of defiance, the thing that drives him absolutely mad about you. But this time, instead of snapping back, Jin sighs, “Fine,” leaning back against the sofa and crossing his arms. “I’m listening. Go on. Explain why you’ve been acting like an unhinged squirrel all week.”

You bristle at the comparison, your whiskers twitching. “I’m not a squirrel. I’m a weasel.”

“Obviously,” Jin deadpans.

You squint at him, but there’s a flicker of amusement in your eyes. “Fine. You want the truth? I’m sick of people underestimating me.”

“They don’t underestimate you,” Jin argues automatically, and then he catches the evil look you throw him. He hesitates. “Okay, maybe they do. A little. But why do you care so much?”

“Because I don’t want to be the hybrid everyone looks down on!” you burst out, your voice cracking slightly. “Do you know how tiring it is to have people assume you’re weak just because you’re small? Or to have everyone treat you like you’re a liability? It’s exhausting, Jin!”

Jin blinks, momentarily stunned by the raw frustration in your voice. And okay, fine, maybe he gets it. Sort of. Being a bear hybrid comes with certain unspoken privileges, he’s never had to prove his strength or capability because people just assume he’s got it together.

But you? You’ve probably been fighting this battle your whole life.

“I didn’t realise it was that bad.”

“Of course you didn’t,” you mutter, slumping back against the sofa. “You’re a giant bear who radiates competence and calm. People probably think you’re some kind of hybrid zen master or something.”

Jin snorts. “Zen master? Have you met me? I get stressed out when my dumplings stick to the pan.”

That earns him a tiny, reluctant smile, and Jin feels a weird feeling in his chest. He doesn’t like it. Or maybe he does. He’s not sure. 

“It’s not just about being underestimated,” you admit after a pause. “It’s about… wanting to matter, you know? I don’t want to just exist. I want people to see me as…” You falter, your voice dropping. “As worth something.”

Oh.

Jin blinks at your clear vulnerability. He’s so used to your chaotic energy, your snarky comebacks, that this softer side of you catches him completely off-guard.

And suddenly, he feels like a bit of a jerk. Because of course you want to matter. Of course you’re proud, and scrappy, and desperate to prove yourself, it’s who you are. And if he’s honest with himself, he doesn’t want you to change.

“You’re already worth something,” he tries a bit softer than usual.

You look up, surprised. “What?”

“I mean it. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. You’re already…” He trails off, struggling to find the right words. “You’re already you. And that’s enough.”

For once, you’re speechless. Your eyes widen, and Jin immediately feels awkward under your intense gaze. He clears his throat, waving a hand dismissively. “Anyway, don’t get used to me being nice. It’s a one-time thing.”

That earns him a laugh, a real, genuine laugh that makes your whiskers twitch. And Jin… well, Jin feels a little smug about it, he’s not about to lie.

“You’re such a softie.“

“I’m a bear,” he counters. “We’re supposed to be soft. It’s in the job description.”

You scrunch your nose, but there’s a warmth to your face that wasn’t there before. And for the first time since the argument, the tension between you feels like it’s easing. Or maybe shifting.

Jin doesn’t know when it happens, maybe it’s when you start bickering about something trivial, or when you swipe the last biscuit from his plate, but somewhere in the middle of it all, he realises he doesn’t mind having you here.

In fact, he loves having you here.

Which is annoying.

And terrifying.

And also… maybe okay.

He doesn’t say anything, of course. He’s still Jin, and he still has a reputation to uphold. But when you’re not looking, he lets himself smile, lets himself imagine. Even if just for a little.

Because chaos or not, you’re worth it. And maybe you’re exactly what his perfectly balanced life has been missing all along.

It happens too fast, as you get up and yeet yourself at him shortly after he was stammering around his words for minutes, leaving him stunned to the core.

You’re straddling his lap, your hands clutching the front of his jumper, your cheeks flushed and your lips curved into a small, smug smile. He’s still holding your face, his hands big enough to practically cradle your whole head, and the taste of the kiss lingers on his lips. 

It takes him a full three seconds to reboot his brain, and the first thing out of his mouth is:

“Did you just—”

“Yes,” you interrupt, not even a shred of shame in your voice. “You were taking forever, so I handled it.”

He blinks. “You handled it?”

“Yeah.” You grin, shifting back slightly but keeping your hands on his jumper like you’re afraid he’ll somehow bolt. “You were overthinking, so I just… skipped to the good part.”

“You know, some people would call that rude.”

“Yeah, well,” you shrug like you couldn’t care less. “You weren’t exactly smooth about asking me out, so I figured we’re even.”

Jin groans, tipping his head back like he’s praying for strength. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” you let go of his jumper to tap a finger against his chest, “here you are, asking me out anyway.”

He looks down at you, his annoyance melting away. You’re infuriating, yes, chaotic, cheeky, and way too comfortable getting under his skin. But you’re also sitting here, with that little grin of yours, like you’ve already decided you belong in his life when he only just realised now. 

“Yeah, here I am.”

“Well,” you beam, rocking side to side like you’ve just solved all his problems, “now that we’ve got the awkward bit out of the way, what’s the plan for our first date?”

“Our first date?” he repeats, raising an eyebrow.

“Obviously,” you look at him like he’s the dense one. “Unless you were planning to kiss me and then pretend it didn’t happen?”

Jin pouts, but there’s no hiding the faint blush creeping up his neck. “I was thinking dinner. Maybe somewhere quiet. Or do you prefer chaotic?”

You snort. “Don’t act like you’d survive a chaotic date.”

“I survived you.”

“Barely,” you tease, leaning closer again and tapping his nose. “But, for the record, dinner sounds good.”

“Good. Then it’s a date.”

And before you can make another cheeky comment, he again grabs your face and kisses you properly this time.

It’s warm and slow, his lips fitting against yours like they were always meant to, and when he pulls back, you’re grinning up at him like you’ve just won some kind of prize.

Which, okay, maybe you have. But Jin’s not going to admit that out loud. Not yet, anyway.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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permanent taglist: @runariyaluvr , @closer-to-jungkook , @dreamcatcherluvr , @blueofocean, @https-mei, @xsyruhh , @nemelkawar , @joonlover1207 , @elinaki92

[a-court-of-lust-and-stardust]

Love on Ice Chapter 16: The Bracelets

Thanks again for keeping this story alive!!! Chapter 15 was posted a few moments ago, so make sure you read that first! Please leave comments on the story and art ❤️

26 Days until competition

“What do you mean you don't want to spend time with me?” Azriel questioned playfully. Socked feet propped up on the coffee table, Azriel stretched his body as he held his phone, content to watch Elain who had been frantically running around her kitchen for thirty minutes. 

On the other end of the video call, Elain snickered as she put the finishing touches on the cooled down cake. It was a simple red velvet cake covered in thick cream cheese frosting. 

“That is not what I said at all,” She chuckled, smoothing out the icing with a butter knife. “Nesta is having a girls’ night. I figured it would be good if I went for a little while.”

Azriel's heart squeezed in his chest. The meeting with Miryam and Drakon had been one of his best ideas. It’d only been a few days since then, but there was no trace of the doubts that had previously plagued her brain. She’d needed a reminder of what skating was all about. A reminder that she was strong and capable, and could give herself permission to be entertained. To open her heart and let love, any kind of love, burrow its way in. 

They’d spent a good two and a half hours at the Snowspell rink, jumping between showing the married couple their ice dance routine, and carefully learning intricate lifts only allowed in the pairs skating program. Miryam talked Elain’s ear off, sharing early stories of her and Drakon’s relationship while Drakon relentlessly teased Azriel any chance he got about the way he wore his heart on his sleeve. After they’d left the rink, Elain’s joy could be felt across Prythian. Azriel had dreamed of Elain’s lips on his cheek that same night. 

“I didn't realize you were so hellbent on seeing me anyway,” Elain taunted, licking the frosting from the knife when she’d finished. There was something so erotic about this sweet, soft woman licking what could double as a deadly weapon. 

“Spending time with you is the best part of my week,” Azriel answered truthfully, adjusting so that one arm was underneath his head. “There's nothing better.” 

“Not even hockey?” She asked quietly, doe eyes wide in surprise as she gingerly sprinkled pink hearts onto the cake. He’d gotten lost in those eyes on more than one occasion. He’d also caught those pretty brown eyes looking at him in a way she never had before. Almost as if he’d finally become something more to her than just a skating partner. More than just a friend. His cheeks warmed at the possibility. 

Azriel spoke softly, “No, not even that.” And it wasn’t a lie. Everything else dulled in comparison to spending whatever little time he could with her. 

“And what will you do while I am occupied tonight?” Either a genuine question, or a way to squash the palpable tension that could be felt even across a video call.

“Maybe I'll throw my own guys’ night,” He suggested, though a night alone was tempting. 

“Whatever you do, do not corrupt my nephew,” She said, pointing the knife at the camera. 

“I wouldn’t dream of stealing Cassian’s job.” A moment passed before he said more solemnly, “Promise me you’ll call if you need me for anything.” 

Elain’s face flushed. She wondered if her cheeks would always heat or her heart would always glow when he showed just how much he cared about her. “I promise.” 

Elain stood outside Nesta's door with the cake cradled between her hands. Her cheeks were tinted pink from the wind, matching the sprinkles on the sweet treat. Laughter erupted from behind the door, and Elain decided she couldn’t flee now even if she wanted to. A very tipsy Nesta had spotted her through the window and ran to fling open the door, enveloping Elain in a warm embrace. With a laugh, Elain gently scolded her older sister for almost crushing the cake. 

The inside of Nesta’s home smelled like cinnamon, embers from the fireplace, and three different types of alcohol. On the couch, Feyre lounged with a glass of red wine as dark as the accent pillows. Two girls sat on the floor, a brunette and a redhead, with a giant unopened box between them. 

“Am I late?” Elain asked sheepishly, nodding her hellos. She turned to Nesta. “You said to come over at eight. How are you already tipsy?” 

“No comment,” Nesta slurred, patting Elain’s cheeks. She must have had a few drinks before anyone arrived. “And you’re right on time. Elain, meet Emerie and Gwyn. Emerie teaches mixed martial arts here in the Night Region, and Gwyn owns a vocal studio in Summer.” 

All three girls flashed bright grins between each other. Elain placed the cake down on the kitchen table and said softly, “I baked a cake. I hope everyone likes red velvet.” 

Everyone did, in fact, enjoy red velvet cake. The treat was gone within the hour, along with most of Feyre’s delicately crafted charcuterie board. Gwyn’s exotic fruit tray had also been a hit, and the drinks were flowing and constantly being refilled. Bottles of wine, liquor, and even sparkling ciders were quickly becoming empty. 

Elain, to her sisters’ shock, had indulged in perhaps one too many drinks as well. She’d burst open from her shell, nodding along to Gwyn’s stories and laughing loudly at Emerie’s drunk antics. Feyre’s eyes glittered as she and Elain drunkenly swayed to music, and Nesta’s cackle could be heard all the way in Day region at Elain’s attempts at filthy jokes. 

“What’s in the box?” Elain motioned toward Gwyn, who eagerly unsnapped the locks and turned it around for everyone to get a better look. Elain’s hazy eyes took a moment to focus. 

“One of my vocal kiddos brought me this bracelet kit for Solstice last year,” She beamed, fiddling with the bracelet strings before passing them around. “I haven’t found time to make any yet, so I figured tonight would be perfect. Silly, harmless fun. There’s enough for me to make bracelets for all my students and for you all too, if you’d like.” 

Elain accepted her string, rubbing it between her fingers. In all her twenty six years, she’d never experienced something as simple as making a beaded bracelet with friends. Lighthearted, easy fun had never been a choice. 

And now it was.

So she grabbed another string, scooped a pile of beads and charms from the box, and permitted herself to create a memory that in years time, she’d hold dear to her heart. 

The last bottle of wine had just been cracked open as the doorbell shrieked. Emerie, closest to the door, opened it and blinked. 

“We heard there was a party.” 

Elain watched Nesta’s head whip toward the front door, mouth falling open as Cassian stomped into the house, followed closely by Rhys and…

“Azriel,” Elain breathed, not as quiet as she thought. His gaze found hers immediately, shooting a wink in her direction. 

She didn’t know where to look first. 

The short sleeve black shirt that seemed to suffocate his arms.

The gray sweatpants that hung loosely off his hips. 

The backward black cap. 

The molten hazel eyes. 

The smirk that always sent her heart into overdrive. 

She didn’t know where to look first, so she just…looked. 

And if he gave her shit about it, or tried to joke about her ogling him, she’d blame it on the three and a half glasses of wine she’d consumed. 

Elain stood, blocking out Rhys and Feyre’s conversation about Nyx’s bedtime routine with their sitter named Madja, and completely ignoring Cassian’s lame attempts at flirting with Nesta (who only seemed to be enjoying said attempts due to the large amount of vodka in her system). 

She walked right over to Azriel, whose grin was blinding. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “What have you been up to, beautiful? You look like you’ve been having a good time.” 

Elain offered a lazy smile of her own, extending her hand and wiggling her fingers as the other was clenched behind her back. “Follow me.” She led him to the back porch, sticking out her tongue at Cassian’s wolf whistle (which earned him a smack on the chest from Nesta), before shutting the door for privacy. 

���I got you something,” Elain said, shaking her head at the mistake. Giggles erupted from her throat. “Well, technically, I made you something.” In a movement so swift she almost lost her balance, she presented her clenched fist toward him, revealing a pair of bracelets. She looked up at him, eyes wide. “I know you have my necklace, but now we have matching good luck charms, too.” 

Azriel blinked. 

Elain bit her lip, stained cherry red from the wine. “Is it stupid? We don’t have to wear them. They’re probably not good anyway since I’m a bit tipsy and couldn’t really see the colors of the beads but–.”

“Put it on me.” 

The rambling paused. “What?” 

He presented his wrist, saying thickly, “Put it on me.” 

A relieved breath escaped her lips as she secured the pink bracelet around his wrist. It took her five tries to finally knot the string, playfully pouting when Azriel teased her about watching her alcohol intake. The middle beads made up her name, and the blue bracelet she had him tie around her own wrist featured his name, too. A claiming of the sort. 

“Miryam told me that she and Drakon used to wear a matching set of rings on the day of their competition to bring them luck,” Elain hiccupped, covering her mouth when another set of drunken giggles left her mouth. Azriel leaned against the back of a chair on the porch, arms crossed and eyes mesmerized by the current state of his partner. “Cresseida and Varian have matching warm-up jackets, and I know Kallias and Viviane have each other’s initials tattooed on the inside of their wrists. They kiss the tattoos before they skate. I wanted us to have something, too. Even if it’s just a silly beaded bracelet made after one too many glasses of merlot.” 

Elain felt herself being pulled into Azriel’s chest. She sank into him, nuzzling her face into the fabric of his shirt. He held her to him, fingers running through her honey-gold strands. 

“I hope you know I’m never taking this off,” Azriel said, lips brushing against her hair. She smelled faintly of jasmine, honey, and the wine she’d consumed. Familiar and intoxicating. 

Elain, arms still wrapped tightly around Azriel’s torso, tilted her head back to say, “That’s the point.” 

They were content to embrace each other in the dark of the night. At least, Azriel truly was. But it was Elain who pulled away first, just enough so there was a sliver of space between their bodies. Azriel folded his arms over his chest, face easy as he watched Elain look him over unabashedly. 

“Checking me out?” He teased, lips quirking. 

He expected her to flush like she always did. And of course she did. But the rose color that blossomed high on her cheeks was accompanied by a sultry voice. “And if I am?” 

She stepped forward again, and Azriel audibly swallowed as her fingernail traced the dark ink along his bicep. Her movements were slow, exploratory, and hell he could do nothing but stand there and let her touch him. 

Her fingers grazed the tattoos on his neck next. Azriel bit his lip to stifle a groan before murmuring, “Then that makes two of us.” 

Indeed, because he was growing less subtle whenever his eyes lingered on her body over the last few days. The urge to touch her, taste her, had been far more consuming now than in the beginning of their partnership. 

But he wouldn’t touch her, nor would he taste her. 

Not yet. 

Not in this state. 

“Az?” She whispered into the night, index finger tracing the sharpness of his jaw, the outline of his lips. His pants visibly tightened, and he prayed to whatever entity existed that she didn’t look down, lest she be uncomfortable. 

“Mm?” 

“What’s it like?” She asked softly, thumbing the plushness of his bottom lip. Her eyes focused on his mouth, savoring the warmth of his breath, before saying, “To be kissed?” 

Every piece of Azriel froze. 

His thoughts and his bones and his blood and his breathing and his heart. Time was suspended as he let the question sink in.

“I’ve never been kissed before,” Elain went on, eyes a shade of deep brown. Azriel couldn’t, wouldn’t, tear his own gaze away from her. Not while she was looking at him as if she might ravish him wholly. “And I’ve never kissed anyone myself but I…” She swallowed then, the only outward show of nerves. “I think I’d like to kiss you one day.” 

Azriel’s heart leaped. He didn’t care that her words were a bit slurred and thick from the wine. Didn’t care that she was revealing a piece of herself while she wasn’t sober. Despite the alcohol in her veins, he knew her words were truthful. “I think I’d like to kiss you, too.” 

One moment, Elain’s eyes were roving over his face, his body, and her hands were tracing and gently gripping any sliver of exposed skin. The next second, her lips quivered and eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “But I can’t.” 

Azriel’s face fell, and he gripped her wrist in his hand, their bracelets glinting in the moonlight as he cradled her hand against his cheek. “Why not?” He asked in a broken rasp. 

Elain pulled away, although every instinct in her body told her not to. He looked visibly in pain, as if her words had sliced through his chest. “There’s too many reasons why we can’t do this. As much as I want to, we just…can’t.” 

He would get no more information out of her, he knew. So he accepted her answer with a curt nod of his head and released her wrist. He already missed the feeling of her skin. 

“I have a pretty good idea what some of those reasons are,” Azriel said. “But let me just say one thing.” And because he was a greedy bastard, he stepped forward and placed either of his hands on the sides of her neck, thumbs stroking her skin. Beneath her neck, he could feel the rapid thrum of her pulse. “If any of your reservations are because of…me…I need you to know I would never force you, never pressure you, to do anything. If anything ever happens between us, it will be on your terms, when you are ready.” 

Elain’s eyes flashed, Azriel’s face the depiction of wary. Full of conviction, she said, “None of those reasons are because of you, Azriel. Please never think that. I trust you with my body as much as I trust you with my life.” 

Azriel groaned, forehead bumping against hers. “Fuck, Elain. Tell me you understand I’d take care of you. Tell me you know that.” 

She nodded sheepishly. 

“No,” Instinctually, he gripped her chin between his fingers, never hard enough to cause pain. Only to keep her there with him just a bit longer. “Tell me.” 

She stood straighter, chest brushing against his own. Elain gauged the raw emotion in his eyes and said, “I know you would take care of me. In every way possible if I allowed you to.”

Azriel dipped his chin once, kissing her nose before breathing, “Good.” And because his mouth was just a hair's breadth away from her lips, and because the temptation to claim her was so strong, he pulled away and offered, “How about I take you home, yeah? You look like you’re going to pass out any minute.” 

Elain chuckled after stifling a well timed yawn. In her tipsy haze, she whispered, “Only if you promise to carry me to my bed if I fall asleep in the car.” 

And yes, Elain had fallen asleep within minutes of strapping her seatbelt. It took Azriel a moment to fish out her apartment key from her purse, but once he found it, he carefully maneuvered Elain out of his car, cradling her to his chest as he expertly unlocked the door. 

Even without the promise, he still would have carried her to bed anyway. The thought of changing her into something more comfortable infiltrated his mind, but he decided against it. He wasn't sure how she would feel in the morning if she knew he had seen her, if only for a brief moment, in a vulnerable state. 

So he laid her on the bed, peeling off her shoes before securing her under the puffy, white comforter blanket. After some rummaging in her bathroom cabinets, he found a pack of makeup remover wipes, and gingerly scrubbed her face. Even with all of the jostling, she remained fast asleep and as peaceful as a dove. 

Azriel knew he should’ve left right then, but he perched himself on the side of her bed and gently stroked her now makeup free cheek. He knew what this feeling meant inside his chest. The feeling he wanted to let erupt, but one he had to keep contained until she felt the same way. 

“You have my heart, Elain Archeron,” He whispered into the silent night, kissing her cheek before he stood from the bed. “I hope one day you let me into yours.” 

ARTWORK FOR THE CHAPTER BY @chachachai17: Here

DIVIDER BY: @saradika-graphics

[alchemisticramblings]

chess tips from your local five hundred year old man

[yellowocaballero]

Omg hi Ms. Yellow Caballero big fan of your work <3 For real though, I'm really excited that your sharing the Weekenders, it was a joy to read and I'm bongocat-ing now that others also get the privilege to read it as well.

Referencing your tags, would you please elaborate of ableism in fandom and, like you said, how fandom treats characters with unpalatable disabilities?

Hi Ms. Bud Lite I'm a big fan of you <3

TL;DR A fear of writing characters of highly marginalized identities shields you from criticism and discomfort, but it's actively stigmatizing to people of these identities and as a writer you really need to get over yourself and write The Icky People.

I guess I'll come out swinging on this one and say that fandom doesn't like severe mental illness. (As a note, when I say severe mental illness (SMI) I mean illnesses such as psychotic disorders, bipolar disorder, substance use disorders, personality disorders, etc)

Obviously, nobody likes people w/SMI. It's just insanely egregious in fandom to me, since fanfic writers absolutely love writing characters or HC characters with depression, anxiety, or a specific variety of PTSD That Isn't Scary. People actively reject any character HCs for a SMI. When people write a character with SMI, they nicely downplay it, ignore it, substitute it for a disorder they like better, or rewrite it. It's completely untolerated, in both headcanons and in fanfiction, and every time I bring it up I always get the most interesting reasons why somebody couldn't possibly acknowledge a character's SMI in their writing. I've heard all of these:

"I don't know enough about the disorder to write it accurately." Do research.

"I'm not X, so I can't really depict it." You probably aren't a cis white man, but you depict those guys just fine.

"It feels insulting to the character." There is no shame in having a SMI.

"I can't understand what it's like, so it's better to be cautious and avoid giving characters stigmatized identities." There are LOTS of experiences that you'll never understand because you've never had them - you just don't want to write anything you're uncomfortable with. People with SMI make you uncomfortable, and you don't want to write anything that makes you feel uncomfortable, or think of a comfort character in an uncomfortable way. SMIs are marginalized differently than solely depression/anxiety/The Nice PTSD, and by refusing to write them you're actively contributing to the stigma.

I think (?) I've spoken in the past about how I believe that the rigorous external and internal policing of writing people of marginalized identities is actively harmful towards efforts to increase diversity of experience and background in fiction. A lot of fanfiction writers are just terrified to write people who they can't directly relate with, because they're worried 'they'll get it wrong' and be Big Cancelled. I think this is negative enough when it prevents people from going outside of their comfort zone, but on a macro level I think this results in people refusing to write characters of marginalized identities as all. It's an insidious thought process, and it's reflected in people's unwillingness to diversity their writing or acknowledge canon diversity.

'Well, I don't understand what it's like to be Black, so I don't want to write Black people'. 'I want to project on this character, so I only want to write them with mental illnesses and identities I have'. 'If I write a marginalized character incorrectly people will yell at me, so I won't write a marginalized character who's marginalized differently than me at all'. Can you imagine writing a lesbian character with a boyfriend because 'you feel uncomfortable writing lesbian experiences'? It's blatantly homophobic. But people do that with disability and race/ethnicity ALL THE TIME.

People with SMI notice that you feel uncomfortable with them. It's obvious. They notice when a character has a SMI + anxiety, and you only write their anxiety. They notice when a character displays symptoms of a SMI in canon, but you write it out. And POC notice when the characters of color are written out. I know we all like to project on the blorbos and relate to them, and in the joys of your own head do whatever, but as a writer if you only stick to identities you're comfortable with you are actively being a worse writer. Which to me is the REAL sin lmfao.

[phagodyke]

dating an art student was so crazy I'm just thinking abt that one birthday I had where my ex got me stickers from the etsy of the person they were cheating on me with....

[eternal-reverie]

got the posting anxiety bad tonight

[alwayshappyhoursomewhere]

[kideternity]

A side effect of getting into digimon is that it’s like. Really made me appreciate Mechas more and robot designs? Combined as well with reading comics like Atomic Robo and then last week watching bang brave bang Bravern. For years my interactions with mecha media was like, Trying to force myself to enjoy transformers, and unfortunately I just don’t think it’s a media franchise for me and it really stifled my ability to enjoy mecha as a genre because of trying to pigeonhole into that. I suppose this is a very roundabout way to say that if anyone has any mecha recommendations hit an ant up about this. And that I've also started getting into gunpla/mecha model kit building- I've made two so far (: and I have another kit I'd like to make soon. If you wanna see pics send me an ask and ill dm them

[tamayokny]

my irl bestie: mads i know you're depressed asf because you have mitski on repeat

[sisterdivinium]

.

[aroaceleovaldez]

i am thinking about pjo promare aus again.

[rosicheeks]

I bought a painting in celebration of your bday!

As for suggestions, does your town have a drive-in movie theater? I know they are so rare now. A near by town where I live still has one and they renovated a few years ago to expand it! They added a huge indoor dining area, a playground for kids, and a good size dog park. It is now a bustling place to meet friends and family.

Not knowing what is available where you live limits what I can suggest (I am not asking for personal info about where you live).

I truly hope you have a great day no matter what you do. I wish you Joy and Love always, Princess!

AH thank you so so much sweetheart 🥰

[visionkept]

Ego sent me THIS JUICY ART and it got big OLDER TOMO vibes. The older they get, the longer their hair gets ! Plus. .  they let their body hair grow out too I’M 👀 👀 😳