#i also fear the movies will make me cry so i am avoiding them for as long as i can

[vanweezer]

this is my stop. youve got to get off. i might go pop. excuse me. ex Cuse me.

[froggiewrites]

I know you’re not taking requests rn BUT if in the future you wouldn’t mind and think it’s fun: I was working and had disney’s mulan (1998 obviously) in the background, hadn’t watched in a while so I did laugh when mulan was practicing acting like a man and said “ha! I see you have a sword, I have one too! they’re very manly-�� and just drops the sword. What if reader had to go undercover as swordsman somewhere and they ask zoro for help/pointers and they do this really bad act in front of him? or maybe it’s something like a first meeting kind of thing where the reader is trying to blend in to escape or something and encounters zoro, does this horrible act and ends up confessing and asking for help? I just think this would be hilarious bc zoro might seem and feel very offended but has probably experienced worse with the crew’s jokes and if feelings are involved he could be like “why am I attracted to this idiot?”, affectionately ofc lol

I had a lot of fun with this one, anon. Mulan is tied for my favorite Disney movie, so I was already super on board with this request, and then as I started writing it just started getting really silly. I hope you enjoy it!!

Make a (Swords)Man Out of You

Pairing: Zoro x Reader

SFW

Summary: Your attempt to go undercover as a master swordsman isn't going particularly well. A kind (if somewhat grumpy) stranger offers you some lessons to help keep up the ruse. Warnings: Fluff, Reader is a loser (affectionate) in this one, Zoro is also a bit of a loser Word Count: 2.5k

You were seriously going to get yourself killed.

You were convinced this was going to be easy. You’d tricked people before, and frankly, how hard could it be to use a sword? You don’t need to pretend to be the best swordsman, just a swordsman!

It turns out using a sword is, admittedly, kind of hard.

You couldn’t count on one hand the amount of times you had nearly cut yourself, or the blade had slipped from your hands, or you ended up not slicing through anything because you messed up your swing. You try to tell yourself over and over again that you don’t need to be the best, just mediocre, but you can’t even manage that at this point. You’re going to get caught. You’ve been undercover in this group for a week now, and you’ve managed to avoid any actual swordplay so far, but you can’t keep this up for long. Not only have you not found the treasure you wanted, you’re probably going to get your head sliced off before you find even a hint of it’s location. 

So here you are, in the middle of the night, trying and once again failing to make a dent on this stupid training dummy.

“You’re not holding it right.”

You nearly jump out of your skin at the sound of a man’s voice behind you. You whip around to see another mysterious swordsman who showed up a few days ago and immediately wiped the floor with several members of the group. You had no idea why he was here, considering he didn’t seem nearly as interested in mindless violence or ill-gotten gains as the rest of the people here. You couldn’t quite recall his name.

“I know what I’m doing,” you grumble, unconvincingly.

“Oh yeah?” He has a smug grin on his face, one that just screams I know more than you and we both know it. “Will you show me, then?”

This is it. You’re caught, he’s going to tell, and you’re going to get sliced to a billion little pieces. You try to keep your cool, to steady your breath and lie through your teeth as you have been all week, but something about him just cuts to your core and you break. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

He takes a step back at the panic in your voice, immediately looking unsure at the sight of your tears. “I’m not–I–Stop crying!” He says it roughly, more of a command than anything else, which only makes you cry harder.

“Please, I don’t want them to kill me! I didn’t think it’d be this hard! I just wanted some treasure, is that so wrong? Life is expensive!” Your blubber would be embarrassing if you had any coherent thoughts through your fear.

“Who said anything about killing you?” He moves forward, his hand covering your mouth and muffling your sobs and panicked words. “And seriously, stop crying. You’re being too damn loud, you’re going to get yourself caught! God, it’s a wonder you haven’t been caught already. You’re so obvious I knew from the moment I walked in you were trying to run some kind of con.”

You try to ask him how he knew immediately, but the words don’t make it through his palm.

“Stop talking. It’s fine. No one’s going to kill you.”

You think he can hear you promise? through his hand.

“Yes, I promise. Just…stop.”

He frees your mouth, and you take a deep and steadying breath.

“So why are you pretending to be a swordsman?”

“These bandits have been stealing a lot from people here, and I heard they stole a big priceless artifact from a nobleman. I figure if I get that, I can get off the island, sell it, and be set for life.”

“So you said you were a master swordsman?”

“Yeah.”

“You didn’t think about lying about anything more believable?”

“They said they needed one. And I didn’t think I’d be this bad at it.”

He closes his eyes, pondering a moment. “You do seem pretty uniquely terrible at this.”

“Wow, thanks.”

“No problem.”

You try to steady your breath, and while you do, he takes your hands in his, turning them over and glaring at them as though they were an insult.

“Why are they so soft?”

“What?”

“Your hands. They’re too soft. You don’t have a single callus.”

“Why are you saying that like it’s a bad thing?”

“It means you don’t do anything with them. It means you definitely don’t hold a sword. If anyone here were capable you’d have been out on your ass day one.”

“I don’t think most people would notice that.”

“Any decent swordsman would. You’re damn lucky I’m the only one here.”

You want to scoff, to ask him what makes him so qualified, but you know he could sound the alarm at any moment, and it’s stupid to piss off a man who holds your life in his hands. “Why haven’t you turned me in already?”

He scoffs. “Why would I?”

“They’d probably give you a reward or something. You don’t get anything out of helping me.”

“What, are you trying to convince me to do it?”

Your heart clenches, your voice raising with fear. “No!”

He shushes you harshly. “God, it was a joke! Be quiet!”

You shrink in on yourself, covering your mouth before he gets the chance.

He sighs. “You’re terrible at this. Why the hell did you think you could keep up this act?”

“I’ve tricked people before!”

“Did those people have swords?”

“...No.”

“Did you keep up an act for weeks at a time?”

“Well–”

“Yes or no.”

“...No.”

He pinches his forehead, muttering something under his breath about an idiot you remind him of, and you pout indignantly. 

“I’m not an idiot!”

“Oh yeah? Because everything I’ve seen tonight has been pretty dumb.”

“Okay, well why are you here then, genius?”

He goes quiet, his eyes sliding away from yours.

“What, no answer?”

He mumbles something.

“What was that?”

You can barely hear the words, almost lost as he whispers them, his head tilted down in embarrassment. “I got lost.”

You can’t help the bark of a laugh that leaves you. “What?”

“I got lost! I was going to find my ship and I got turned around, so I decided to stay and see what this place was about! So what?”

“You got lost so you decided to join a group of bandits? And you’ve been here for days! Don’t you have anybody looking for you?”

“They’ll show up eventually!”

“Why didn’t you just ask for directions?”

“I don’t need directions!”

“Clearly, you do!”

You both groan in unison at the other, fighting frustration. You aren’t in much of a position to judge, but how could a person be more helpless? At least you got yourself into trouble on purpose.

“Where is your ship supposed to be docked?”

“I don’t remember exactly, it was near an opera house.”

“An…opera house?”

“Yeah?”

You cannot believe this is happening. “We don’t have one of those.”

“What?”

“There isn’t an opera house on this island. The closest one is a day’s ferry trip away. How the hell did you get here?”

“I walked.”

“That literally cannot be true! Like physically!”

“Well it is! So you must have forgotten!”

“Forgotten about the layout of the island I’ve lived my entire life on? Really?”

“God, you’re so annoying. I can’t believe I was going to help you.”

You pause. “You were going to help me? With what?”

“With swordplay! Obviously! You can’t even hold the damn thing right, you clearly need it.” He’s pouting, his lower lip jutted out like a child about to throw a tantrum. You just barely hold yourself back from telling himself that. As fun as it may be to taunt him, you really do need the help.

You can swallow your pride for the night. If everything works out, maybe you can make fun of him for this later. “...Would you still be willing to help me?”

“Why should I?”

“I can get you back to your ship. After I get the treasure, I mean.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“No offense, but you definitely do. And I kind of want to go with you anyway. I’m a little worried you’ll just walk off into the ocean if I don’t.”

He glares at you, eyes raking up and down your form, considering for a moment. He sighs. “Fine, I guess I can help.”

You feel hopeful for the first time in a while. Your new friend, who informs you his name is Zoro, seems rather skilled. Maybe this plan won’t get you killed after all!

Two days later you’re kicking yourself for daring to think that even for a second.

“How the hell are you still doing it wrong?” His hands are on your back again, adjusting your posture for the twentieth time today. “How hard can it be just to swing a sword?”

“It’s not! I’ve been swinging it this whole time!” You aggressively bring the blade down on the training dummy you two had stolen for your lessons. Zoro had thought you would need a day at most to get the basics down, but you were nearing the end of day two and making absolutely no progress.

He sighs, wrapping his arms around you, pressing his chest to your back as he adjusts your hold. You try not to blush as you ask, “What are you doing?”

“Fixing your hold. Come on, we’re going to swing it together. Clearly just telling you isn’t working, but maybe this will.” He puts his hands over yours, and you feel the heat radiating off of him. You try to focus on the movement as he guides you, but you can’t help but be distracted by the feeling of his muscles against your back. “Did you get that?”

“Huh?” You’re so grateful he can’t see your face right now. “Sorry, uh, can we do that one more time?”

Instead of making fun of you or complaining, he simply guides you through the motion again, going slow to ensure you understand every step, before repeating it again closer to a normal speed. “Did you get it?”

“I…think so. Maybe.”

He chuckles, and you can feel the rumble of his chest against your back. “Alright. Try it yourself, now.”

You do, and for once, the sword flies through the air with ease, and makes a sizable slash in the dummy. You stare for a moment, dumbfounded, before you drop the sword and whirl around to face him. “I did it!” You can’t stop yourself from throwing your arms around him.

“Wha–Hey! Don’t drop your sword!” Despite his scolding tone of voice, his arms are gentle as they wrap around you, lifting you up slightly. “...But that was good.”

Is that a hint of red at the tips of his ears?

No, of course not. It couldn’t be.

He sets you down, picking up the sword and placing it back in your hand. “Now do it again. If you can do something as simple as that, you can probably keep up the facade long enough to find your treasure.”

You do the motion ten, twenty, then thirty more times while Zoro watches on with satisfaction. “You know, I could probably make a real swordsman out of you if we had the time.”

You laugh. “Maybe you could. I don’t have anywhere to be after this. Does your ship have room for one more?”

You say it as a joke, but you can see on his face that for a moment, he genuinely considers the possibility. “It’s a big ship. You’d have to get approval from my Captain, though.”

“Do you think I could?”

“He’d love you.” He smiles fondly. “You’re just as reckless as he is. And you’d get along with everyone else, too. Nami would appreciate having someone else who knows the value of a Berry around. Usopp would love how gullible you are. And that cook…” He makes a quiet noise of disgust. “Anyway, you’d fit right in.”

You can see the affection radiating off of him as he talks about his friends. You can’t help but smile back at him. “They sound nice.”

“They have their moments.”

You sheathe your sword, rolling out your shoulders and neck. “Well, I think I only have a bit to go before I get the treasure. I’m so close I can taste it. I bet I can find it by tonight.”

“Here’s hoping. As you are now, you’d still get caught the moment you got put into a real battle. We have to find it quickly.”

You freeze, your heart pounding a little faster. “...We?”

“Yeah?” He looks at you like it’s obvious.

“You’re coming with me?”

“You thought I wouldn’t?”

“I don’t know! You never said you were going to!”

“I thought it was obvious. We’re going to go in, grab the treasure, and run like hell.”

You don’t like the way he simplifies it, but you have to admit that’s basically your entire plan. “And then I take you back to your ship?”

“It’d be hard for you to join if you didn’t.”

You can’t hide your shock. “You were serious?”

“Were you not?”

“I mean–I’d like to, but–”

“If you want to, then there’s no but. It’s settled.” He says it so easily. You wonder where he gets the confidence to speak things into existence like that, to say things as though they’re sure to happen simply because he wills it. His next words are spoken as an afterthought, as though they left his mouth before he even realized they were coming. “That’s good. I didn’t really want to let you go.”

“Huh?” Your face is definitely red now.

“Huh?” His face might be redder than yours.

“Did you–”

“No, definitely not.”

“You didn’t let me finish.”

“Doesn’t matter.” He sharply turns around. “We have a treasure to go steal.”

Well, if he isn’t going to be brave about this, you suppose you’ll have to. You wouldn’t survive the tension-filled boat ride over otherwise. “Oh, the brave swordsman is running away?”

You see his shoulders tense, and you know you got him. “I am not running away.”

“Then why aren’t you looking at me, Zoro?” You keep your voice teasing and sickly sweet.

He slowly turns, desperately avoiding your eyes.

“You still aren’t loo–”

Before you can finish your taunt, chapped lips are pressed against yours. It’s jarring and all too brief, gone before you even realize it was there. By the time you can blink, he’s backed away again, stalking off with a purpose. “Come on. We’re losing daylight.”

“That’s the wrong way.”

He turns back around without a word, rushing past you. You can’t help the goofy little grin that makes its way onto your lips. You won’t tell him, not now, but you didn’t really want to let him go quite yet either.

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @dreamcastgirl99 @tochillwithamockingjay

[br-disaster]

Nie Mingjue's Fatal Journey crying scenes appreciation post

There's no way I wouldn't make this post, but it ended up way longer than I intended.

Fighting with Huaisang

When is this man not tearing up?

This fight is so important for Huaisang's character development and the movie's themes, with Huaisang being ready to challenge and question the Nie ways and Mingjue doing his best to uphold those traditions and keep the peace through the only way he knows how.

But it's still hard to be challenged like this and to face the possibility that everything you've ever known might not be right, actually.

And this gif specifically is from the moment Huaisang questions if Mingjue even knows what they're there to fight and what this supposed great evil that will come to Qinghe if they fail to balance their blades even is. Mingjue has no answer, of course, I suppose he was only taught this and never had reason to question it.

But Huaisang is also talking about the disciples they already 'lost' at this point of the movie, and he says something along the lines of " You don't know anything, you only know how to bring them here to die" and that does it. Because it's both "you can't follow these rules blindly when they rely on sacrificing people" and "you've changed and I don't trust your judgement on these matters anymore".

And as he says it, Mingjue looks at their disciples and he sees the puppets for a moment. And Huaisang just questioned if the other disciples were really attacked by puppets.

So that's a big moment and Huaisang is right, of course, but he doesn't have a confirmation that this is the result of Mingjue's health deterioration yet, so he keeps pushing. And Mingjue doesn't really have a counter argument because he knows what's going on with him, but it must be very scary to hear it from the person you care about the most and realize just how much you're being affected.

(Actually, Mingjue has one counter argument and that is "Well, I am at least trying to do something while you're painting and living a carefree life", and he's not wrong either. Huaisang is right and rightfully harsh, but this is the first time he's being confronted with these difficult choices and all their family history. He can reflect on and question it, but his brother has been meking those hard decisions since he was 14, when did he ever had a break to question and change things?)

Which leads us to

The Talk

After seeing his brother sacrifice himself for him at the bridge, and then seeing Mingjue be so vulnerable and lost, that anger from their fight is gone. They can meet in the middle with "You are right, I wasn't thinking straight, this is not a long term solution and I've failed at changing our ways" and "It's not your fault, you did everything you could but you're not responsible for this situation" and it's very beautiful and heartbreaking.

Mingjue is so remorseful, both because he has condemned Huaisang to die with him and because he feels like he failed everyone and everything (even if he doesn't seem to know what he could have done differently to avoid all this).

And Huaisang's reaction in this scene is so calm it made me think this Huaisang is somewhat used to his brother displaying vulnerability around him. This isn't book NMJ with all his victories, this isn't a man who never let the Unclean Realm be conquered and who could afford to keep Huaisang far away from the war. This is a man who was attacked and subdued in his own home, who had to send Huaisang to the hands of the people who killed their father.

This Huaisang doesn't have reasons to see Mingjue as this unmovable force, he has seen Mingjue hurt and threatened and fearful; and he's now seeing him remorseful and defeated.

(I'm sure Mingjue telling Huaisang about the fact that he's dying and admiting his mistakes and insecurities is something new, especially considering their previous fight, but this Huaisang doesn't take it as a shock, because he knows his brother is only human and there's only so much he can handle. He even, like, explicitly says this)

And so he assumes this calm, reassuring and empathetic posture, because that's what his brother is asking for. And it's the most beautiful thing, Huaisang has so much love for him, so much empathy. And this is Mingjue's reaction to his brother's reassurance that it's okay if they have to die there:

I'm sure Huaisang is still processing Mingjue's "I only forced you to practice because I'll die soon", but he's so good at reassuring his brother.

Because Mingjue just told him "I am dying and I'll go as a failure" and Huaisang insisted "None of this is your fault and you did everything you could and more, and if I have to die here with you today, I don't regret a thing, and you shouldn't either".

There's no despair or anger that his brother is only telling him this now, there's only understanding and acceptance and so much love and they really knew what they were doing with this movie.

His people love him

Mingjue is so moved. He just admitted to Huaisang that he's not in peace with his accomplishments, or lack thereof; that he feels ashamed to face his ancestors, having done so little.

So I truly believe Mingjue doesn't consider himself worthy of this much trust and support. (And I can't ignore how this is tied to the Nightless City situation, where he led the men who trusted him with their lives to a dangerous situation and couldn't save any of them).

As we see in the confrontation at Jinlintai, that technically happens after this movie, that is still a very sensitive topic.

And here he has his loyal disciples saying they will follow him yet again, despite his previous 'failures'; just like Huaisang was ready to die with him. They have so much trust in him, and the way he's nodding a little here, just like he was nodding when Huaisang reminded him of everything he's done for their sect since their father died, is like he's convincing himself of it. That he can do this and he can do this right this time.

And yet

He fails again. And I don't even think he knows it was him who killed those disciples, like some people say. He doesn't need to because it doesn't matter. His men, who followed him till the end of the world, are dead again. And so is the hope he had of doing this one right thing before he dies.

Yes, he supressed the saber spirit like he had to, but they're still dead, all of them.

He falls apart, how could he not?

At some point I'm sure Huaisang his holding all his weight because he just gives up. There's only so much loss one can handle and that's way too much.

And look at the way Huaisang is watching him as he realizes something inside Mingjue shattered forever.

There's so much pain in this scene, it looks physically taxing and I hope people gave Wang Yizhou a break after he shot this. I know it's his job and he's phenomenal at it, but this has to mess with your head a little.

And hey, it's a Huaisang crying scene as well. CQL Huaisang only really cries twice. First he watches his brother have a mental breakdown in his arms after unknowingly killing his own disciples; and then as he watches his brother qi deviate and die, while unable to do anything to either stop or comfort him.

(And a lot of people said there's no hesitation on Huaisang's part when he rushes to his brother's aid when Mingjue is hurt on this post's notes, and that's true for book Huaisang too, because he runs towards Mingjue as he is qi deviating, gets hurt in the process, and still keeps calling for him, which makes CQL's decision to have JGY holding him back kind of cruel, tbh, there's not a Huaisang who would run from a hurting Mingjue regardless of the risks

But at least we have this scene.)

And that's it, I guess. There's nothing uplifting to say about this, really. He just went through a lot and kept shouldering everything until he couldn't anymore. I just wish book NMJ had gotten to receive the same love and comfort and acceptance from NHS before he died, I wish he had been able to tell his brother what was actually happening, but thats kind of the purpose of this movie, so I'm just very grateful that it exists.

It's like that post says, it didn't change anything but the love was there, you know? That's how this movie feels for me.

[sudokufag]

Mmm it's something I've always wanted a chance to talk about but have never gotten a real chance to online or in real life but since it's disability pride month and all

I wanna give a huge shoutout to people with phobias. (long post ahead)

I feel like phobias aren't talked about nearly as much as they should be in mental health spaces. We talk a lot about people's triggers related to traumatic events, but we don't really cover what it's like to have a trigger from a phobia.

Phobias can come from trauma, but just as many times that happen for no reason at all. Sometimes a slightly uncomfortable, embarrassing or spooky one time occurance buries itself into your mind for no reason at all and it just stays there because the human mind is funny and often slips up.

There's not really a community for phobias, if you look up your phobia online you will be flooded with really triggering images, you can't search any tags online because those tags exist to censor triggers, not to form a community. (not to say that those tags aren't important ofc they are) The closest I've seen is the tag "actual phobia" in Tumblr but this seems small and drowned out by fandom posts somehow.

Phobias are hard and exhausting. They effect you in ways that people wouldn't expect and you cant really explain. They can be humiliating to have: kids in middle school intentionally would trigger my phobia because they didn't understand the severity until I fainted onto the floor. I'm an adult by my mom has to hold my hand and head at the doctors office so I don't break down like a child, the worst was when I had to get my covid shot and confused children and judgemental elderly people alike stared at me in the midst of my meltdown.

Phobias are very isolating. That new movie everyone raves about has triggering subjects right on the poster and no one really thinks to tag it while it's trending. That video game looks right up my alley, but oh, it triggers my phobia and theres no way to censor it in the settings. You try to tell friends and family about your issues as they halfway pay attention as they file your fears under the same urgency "needs to ask their partner to kill the spider". If you've got an uncommon or silly sounding phobia, you will straight up get laughed at for expressing your fear, even in what should be really progressive and accepting places.

It's hard to really describe a meltdown to someone who's never had them. Phobias often make people cry and scream and kick involuntarily, we can vomit and drop in blood sugar and have migraines and faint. To say that it's the feeling of walls closing in on you is to only put in the slightest terms. When I have a meltdown, I feel like I am dying. It's the most pain and fear you can feel, reverting you back into a confused childlike state, and the only reprieve I can get is knowing that I 15 minutes I will feel better if a little tired and I will get to drink a coke with a silly straw as congratulations for making it through.

Lots of people will give you a flat and unsympathetic "get help." even when they're typically progressive enough to know it's rude to say that to people suffering from things like depression. It applies to us too! It's damn hard to get a therapist already, even harder to feel ready to look a phobia in the eye. Signing up for exposure therapy is a very scary thing to do.

So to anyone reading this with a phobia or phobias:

Weather being the very common ones or ones so rare and niche that you aren't taken seriously, and God help you on avoiding triggers

Being unable to enter doctors offices or grocery stores or the post office without shaking in fear

Those whole also struggle with OCD too and have intrusive thoughts about their phobias, triggering them even when sitting alone in their room

Those who's circle doesn't take their phobia very seriously and feels lost and alone when triggered

For those who have been hospitalized or institutionalized because of their phobia

You're not alone! And all feelings, even the very worst feelings, always will come to pass.

I wish that there was a community around phobias the same way there is for my conditions ADHD and anxiety, so we could learn coping mechanisms and better understand ourselves as people through each other's experiences. I'm not sure how that'd work or what that'd look like, but the best way I can think of to get started is to post things like these!

*feel free to share you experience if you want to in the tags

[ganeshpnf]

To the anon that sent me an ask about asking my thoughts about the tv show, Im so sorry but something happened and I think it got deleted 😭 But dw I would still answer it here-

So this would be a critism post and I want to make it clear that everyone is free to reblog and comment their thoughts freely, while being kind. Critism is valid and its not rude, but any bad comments or hateful remarks to any actor, especially child actors, would be deleted. I dont like blocking so dont make me please!

Okay to start, I would be so honest and say I did not find the show successful and I did not like it. I would explain all the reasons, but did it make me feel nostalgia a bit? Yes it did. Did it make me cry at the end? Yes :) I would add pros at the end. But first:

Cgi was really bad, I mean that claiming scene would be a laughing stock in a few years. Chimera? Nope- Medusa's hair also looked better in that movie in 2010. Also they avoided showing Grover's legs so much, also didn't even show us riptide's change...They got 15M per episode and if these are the results, then it is a problem. Background of Percy and Ares's fight- so so greenscreen. I wish Disney can take things seriously.

Lighting was so dark, especially for the lighting thief. Which was such a humor filled book and it was way too colorful. Why make it all so dark and lifeless?

Also humor? Way too low for pjo. "But we are not reading Percy's mind!" Yet, there were so many jokes in the books that could have been add, but they didn't. Yes there are some good jokes (pinecone fate) but to the standart, I expected to laugh way more. Its pjo!

Changes? Well to be honest I am a person who keeps book and show separate, I dont think they are the same at all. So I dont complain about the changes at much. But most of the changes were pointless to me and so many things left unsaid. I wish they didn't make Gabe way too soft. Children's show, yes. But then again, what would you do for later seasons if they cant even show Crusty's dead. Sally's real reason to marry Gabe never get explained, why? 4 pearls, why? Missing deadline? Totally pointless. Not mentioning Riptide's name? Chiron might have say it. Love tunnel? Now its a long one. Rick explained they couldn't do spiders and its hilarious, you gotta do sea monsters man- And instead of a chance to see an actual comedy: live on Olympus and Annabeth losing her shit. We get to see such a early scene of Percabeth drama. Why changing one of the funniest scene in the books to drama? You needed more edits for view or smt? Hephaestus falling over to the speech of friendship was nothing but cringe to me. Moving on, Thalia's acting to Annabeth. Why she is not nice to her and Annabeth had to earn her love. The point was Thalia to remember Jason and taking Annabeth under her wings immediatly bcs of it. Medusa's scene- Instead of us laughing to trio's silly behaviours and falling to her trap like little kids would, we get to hear a monster-hero talk. Yay another speech! Ovid's side of the story also bothered me. Greek mythology, why adding Ovid? Just us to sympatize with Medusa. Lotus Casino scene- We could have watch them have fun and going crazy but noo- they had do add more drama with Hermes. Did not see the point of his appearing either. Why is he there? I wanted to see them being children...And wanted to see the magic of the place!

Now if I move to characters, Percy's I know it all side is just annoying and adds no suspense to the viewers. What's the point if he knows everything already? "But his mom taught him!" But guys, remember, the whole point of pjo was: us to learn with Percy! We were learning the Greek myths with Percy, who is new to the world. They go somewhere and Percy immediatly: "You are Crusty, my mom told stories about you!" 😑 What a relief then! You tell us. Percy's sudden bravery at the end? Dude, he has 5 books for that.

Annabeth turning to a stoic child soldier? Suddenly goody-two shoes? Where are her emotions? Her fears? Her flaws? Her fricking love of architecture? She doesnt need to know everything to be smart girl. She had ADHD, she is 12! Ofc she was supposed to fall in traps. We should have watch her blushing as Luke talks, getting all wet by Percy in the toilet, she was supposed to our little girl. She is not just a badass queen yet, please. Give her personality back. Why she only smiled once at the end of the series? And not having a childhood, not even watched a movie? You guys cant be serious- She grew up in chb! She picked up strawberries, she played games and she watched movies when she was little, remember? She was not in legion... She is one of the most emotional characters, should we remind this to Rick and writers? She cries, she has feeling! Dam she was crying when they left Cerberus! She was a trouble-maker, she stole clothes, remember? Her portrayal was awful...

And about the Gods- Just..."He is trying to make them look awful at the beginning" Then why the hell it was only Athena? Almost turning her to second Zeus- Are you kidding me? You make her suddenly a child killer, when in the books she was nothing like that. Why making her worse, when other gods(Poseidon, Hermes, Hephaestus,Dionysus,Ares,Hades) seem way more human and nicer? You cant tell me he tries to make them worse when they are portrayed like that! No sir- Hephaestus is nice enough to release Percy after a friendship speech. Poseidon is suddenly a perfect dad, he is not sorry that Percy is born. Ares is just a dumb twitter bully, where in the books he was threating them to no end. And fricking Hades?! I am sorry but Hades like that- He should have been scary. But no, he is just a lonely cool guy. I thought he softened after Nico. Cant wait for the development now...

Other than that, one of my most important things: vibe. Sorry...Like I said, it was way too boring for pjo. Even that horrible movies had more vibe! Gimme the vibe!

Pacing? Has a problem and I hope they fix it. Episodes being too short? Also another issue.

Now for the chb, I was hoping to see more activity. Why the camp is not full of noisy kids running around, playing hide and seek like in the books, training wild around the areas, camfire and silly songs? Where are our children screaming and being ADHD demigods? Instead they play chess in the cabin- Please, give more life to chb.

Finally, for the things I liked:

Riptide song!!! That song is my favourite thing in the whole show- Like its soo good.

Seeing Sally's struggle to raise Percy. Also a plus for me. Because I was curious. Also adding Poseidon to the scene was okay. I loved that parts.

Young Percy did awesome and he was such a good actor :)

Percy's dreams were good, I loved seeing them. Congrats! Andd, child accurate cast. It was important. But I wish they hurry so then we wont have it anymore 😭

That was it! Like I said, I find it a bad show, as a fan of 12 years. I waited this for so many years. I was dreaming this. But sorry, bad show is a bad show. At least it did give me some nostalgia and it did make me cry at the end :) I hope they improve because it would suck if they get a cancel before season 5. The bad thing is, I feel they knew we pjo fandom wanted a show for years. And they knew we would eat the crumbs. Its just not fair, you know. They would like it anyway, type. They are not taking it as seriously as they should. With that budget, look at other shows with that budget. I know, its still a kids' show. But I dont think its an excuse for them to upset the fans who waited this long...

Thanks for the ask anon! And like I said, feel free to add your thoughts :)

[theweirdoinurhouse]

Phobias, am I right?

Sorry for the bad title, but in my Ted Talk of the day I'll be discussing Tokophobia and thanatophobia (mainly this one). I've seen some talk about them, and want to share my own personal experiences with them and spread more light on the subjects.

CW: Talk of death, pregnancy, childbirth, and rape (very briefly) Please proceed with caution, I don't want anybody to have a mental crisis

So first off, what are tokophobia and thanatophobia? Tokophobia is the fear of childbirth/pregnancy, and thanatophobia is the fear of death. That one is pretty broad. I will section off talking about each of them. Warning, they might be long.

Thanatophobia:

I'll just get this one out of the way. I personally have thanatophobia stronger than tokophobia, and that's because it's literally unavoidable. And that's the main reason I'm so scared of it. Unlike other fears like heights or spiders or snakes, you can decently avoid those. But you can't avoid death. It's always looming over you, no matter how safe you seem. Not to say those other fears aren't valid or anything. They absolutely are. But nobody can avoid death. Not forever anyways.

Everytime I get home and open the door I'm scared someone might be on the other side with a gun. Or when I enter my room. Or whenever I'm walking I wonder if that maybe someone will drive by and shoot me. Lots of shooting thoughts, because it's one of the easiest methods. But no matter where I am I always have the looming thought of dying.

Then there's the fact about mortality. It absolutely angers me. Inside me are two wolves (sorry I have to joke to make myself feel better). One wolf thinks: Why do anything? We won't matter. We won't do anything that matters to the world or people. We're gonna die one day. We're not special. Why try so hard? The other wolf thinks: We're gonna die one day, so why not live life to the fullest? (Can you tell which one I listen to most of the time?)

I try my best to live my life to the fullest. But I'm always so stressed about everything. Then whenever I try to do something "cool" or think about doing something cool, I can only think of how that might make my life even shorter. I watched this one movie where this girl was the embodiment of "YOLO". Guess what? She died.

I don't want that to be me. I don't want to finally decide to do something fun and then die. But I also don't want to stay cooped up my whole life. Every thought I have contradicts each other and it's so hard to live with. I hate thinking about how we're all just going to die one day and that we can't do anything about it. And we have no clue what's after.

I'm not religious. And honestly? That makes this even worse. I have nothing to hold onto. I have nothing to look forward to. I have nothing. 😋😋 I won't talk much about religion. Like ever. But yeah, I don't have a belief of what's after, and it's makes the unknown so scary to me. I don't like not knowing. Just endless black? No consciousness? Nothing? Nothing.

I have oh so many thoughts about death. None positive. Sometimes I think about killing myself to escape this sad, non-satisfying world. When I was younger I made this idea with my step dad that when you die you get your own island in the sky and you can make it as perfect to you as you want. Sometimes I want to die to go to my own personal, amazing life. But what if that's fake? What if everything everyone has ever thought of about the afterlife is fake? Not having an answer is scary enough for me.

Earlier today I was helping out at a theater put away some stuff. I was standing on top of a latter. Then suddenly it was getting a little hard to breath and I was crying. Had to steady myself before getting off the ladder. So really other fears that can correspond to death scares me too. How diverse! 😄

Anyways that's the basics. Ill just stop it there before it gets too long.

Tokophobia:

This one will be shorter, so people who don't like reading a lot of words: here ya go.

Remember in thanatophobia I mentioned walking? Yeah sometimes I think about someone 🍇 me and (bc the government low key sucks) being forced to have a child. TERRIFYING!!! Honestly props to all the moms in the world, i could never give birth.

Whenever I think about pregnancy the first thing that pops up in my brain is that one scene from Alien. You know the one. There is a literal LIVING BEING GROWING IN YOUR STOMACH!!! WHAT?!

The thought just really grosses me out, and I just would have a mental breakdown if I was pregnant.

This one time in like 3rd grade my teacher was talking about her giving birth to her two daughters (no clue why she did). She had to stop because one kid was crying, knees to their chest and rocking back and forth. That child was me. I was absolutely mortified of the idea of giving birth. Still am. People call it the beauty of life. I call it absolutely disgusting (no offense. Omg opinions!!)

Anyway yeah. In summary: I don't like the world ☺️☺️

(I did not re-read this, so sorry for any mistakes in spelling or grammar!)

[aroaceconfessions]

I'm not sure if what I want to confess is more about a-spectrum or neurodivergent maybe but it's about feeling things in a different way than the rest of your surroundings - so maybe some other Aro and Aces would relate?

My memories of reacting "different than normal" begin early:

- as a preschool kid when I was told that I "look pretty" - my reaction was: cry. Maybe I was just a bashfull child not knowing how to deal with a compliment but my mom always thought it was unusual.

- in my primaly school whenever I've been called "brave" after having a shot, vaccine or blood sample taken - my reaction was: feeling confused and kind of humiliated. It got to be clear: the feeling was not caused by having injection itself - but by those words that were meant to be a compliment. Why? At that time I was one of the very few children never crying of fear before vaccination but I thought that everyone else was reacting stupidly (what was the point of crying? they could not avoid the vaccine anyway!). But in my head it was them who were weird, I was normal, obviously: a mature and reasonable little person among those unrationally behaving kids. And now adults talking down to me and making a fuss over my "bravery" when I was just being normal - felt like rejecting my rationality and maturity! By them I was assumed to be just another unreasonable child who only exceptionally behaved the right way. Also if I was told "it won't hurt at all" before injection - it felt wrong as well: I took really a lot of shots (treating my otitis as 3 yo) and I've been perfectly aware of that it DOES hurt but in bearable way - so why must you lie to me?! Just do what you have to and let me go, don't treat me like an idiot!

- years later, in my early 20's - when I noticed my peers getting excited about hot stuff and sex topic I felt the same as with injections: I am that rare reasonable, grown up and seriously behaving person surrounded by overreacting immature youth. I got interested in sexual stuff myself too,  but unlike others - I felt like it's nothing to joke at and like nothing I ever wanted to talk about with anyone. My interest in sex gradually became some kind of passion - but it was strictly theoretical and never attached to any particular person around me. Now I already studied scientific stuff about it as well as movies and pictures for years - and whenever I hear anyone using a word "virgin" or insinuations that someone who never had sex therefore is naive and unexperienced - I get that feeling of being humilated: like rejecting my knowledge and maturity all over again! Just because I never done it myself doesn't mean others know more about it than me!

- I know I'm aro-ace cause I never enjoyed anyone touching me in the sexual way or using too much diminutives when talking to me. Just thinking about it makes me feel confused again - as if I was mistaken for somebody else. Sorry, I am independent adult person, not to be used as a sex toy nor be treated like a child - talk to me, treat my body serious, don't underestimate me!

- I feel less uncomfortable thinking about pain. Like when I use electric depilator to remove my legs hairs - it feels satisfying and almost pleasurous. When I went to the spa once with my friend - I could not force myself to take a massage (I hate being tickled so much I might reflexively hit someone in defence). Yet I enjoyed having a body peeling very much. I guess I'd rather like to be scratched than caressed. I sometimes wonder if maybe I would potentially enjoy BDSM instead of sex?

Is anyone else of you Aro and Ace people feeling so confused about others misinterpreting your attitude? Like about diminishing your actions as exeptional and not treating you, your words and your knowledge seriously enough?

Submitted May 3, 2023

[nerdby]

I want to talk about my age regression.

Because people make a lot of blanket assumptions about age regressors that aren't true and I want to try to dispel some of them. Like a really common misconception people seem to have about age regression is that littlespace is a perpetually happy headspace. It isn't.

I can't cry unless I'm in littlespace.

It didn't really used to be that way for me. Littlespace used to be a happier place for me until I came out as transmasc in 2017/18, and I realized that the transmasc community was an exceptionally cruel place. People aren't allowed to feel. Or we're encouraged by transphobic transmedicalists not to feel or to cry or to talk about our feelings or to question certain aspects of the patriarchy very much.

And 2017/18 was also when I first started exploring age regression. Because I've always been an age regressor because my regression is involuntarily. I get triggered by certain movies or characters or whatever, and I start to feel like I'm......The only way I can really describe is to say I feel almost empty-headed, air-headed.

I feel innocent and light, I guess is what I'm trying to say.

But back then I really didn't understand the psychiatry behind age regression very well and I didn't understand my triggers and I didn't know what they were. And I think I need to backtrack a bit here to address another misconception about age regressors.

Age regression is not simply pretending or acting like a toddler. Like there are people who regress to an infant or toddler-like state. I sometimes regress to a state of like....A four or five-year-old but it's really difficult for me.

Part of the reason why that is because I know you want me to be ashamed of my regression. And the other reason why is because like I said before, I cannot cry unless I'm regressed and I need to be regressed to that four or five-year-old headspace in order to do so. Because age regression is really like when you embody who you were as a very small child.

And I feel like at four or five years old is the last time I didn't care if I upset someone with my crying.

Because I do feel shame about my regression. So, bravo, mission accomplished you have proved Magneto 100% right once again:

"Mankind has always feared what it does not understand." -Erik Lensherr, X-Men (2001)

And that's why people are always such assholes to weird people. I've been bullied enough in my life to know that. So if you hate age regressors or think we're weird

You're an ableist asshole.

But getting back to the point, there are other levels of regression when it comes to age regression. Just like people can regress to the headspace of an infant or a toddler people can also regress to the headspace of a grade schooler or a teenager.

I'm autistic. I am very, very autistic and I wasn't diagnosed until a few years ago. In fact, I'm not diagnosed officially at all. Not with autism. I have a diagnosis for ADHD that I received two years ago. So it wasn't until then my doctors began to take me seriously when I told them that I think I'm autistic. Because the only people and characters I'm able to really relate to are autistic people and characters.

And cause I can't read emotions or facial cues and because I've been obsessed with the same things for literal decades of my life.

And I'm thirty-three.

So for roughly thirty years my autism and ADHD has gone unaddressed. As a result I'm very emotionally underdeveloped. Like, in my head, I feel like a twenty-something whenever I try to adult. Most of the time I feel like I'm about 12-16 years old. Sort of. I feel like I'm a 12-16 year old that's stuck in an early-2000s timeloop.

I don't interact with minors online.

I don't date anyone under the age of twenty-seven.

In fact, I prefer to avoid dating people who are younger than me because the people I have dated that were younger than me turned out to be abusive. I've also had abusive partners that were much older than me.

My younger partners were never more than 1-3 years younger than me. Just because I know some asshole somewhere is dying to ask. To be honest, I don't really feel safe dating or hooking up with people at all anymore. So I don't.

I don't have a partner, platonic or otherwise. And when I age regress I do it alone. Which is part of the reason it's difficult for me because a lot of people in the age regression community do regress with friends or a partner. I don't really have friends.

I moved back to New York in 2015 from Florida and after being homeless for a year was placed in a group home for the mentally ill. Those are also called adult foster care or transitional living facilities because people don't want to think them as asylums. And it was made abundantly clear to me that I was not wanted there because the manager was constantly insisting that I didn't belong there.

That was because most of the other residents were agoraphobic whereas I made trips once or twice a month to see my family who lived in my current city about half an hour away.

Other than the staff of the group home, the other residents, my therapist, and my immediate family I didn't have any contact with anyone. And you can ask anyone whose been in a group home at any age and they will tell you it's a traumatic experience. No matter how old you are.

There was a lady who was an elderly resident that was so delusional.....She would have accidents all over the house. Explosive diarrhea and staff would make the residents clean it. I refused to. I was so upset the first time that I complained about it to my therapist and I never shut the fuck up about it. And then there was a girl who was a cutter. The worst day of my life was waking up to a puddle of her blood on the floor and a trail of it leading down the stairs.

The staff person in the office that morning was complaining about how she'd have to clean up the girl's blood and how she (the staff) had had to call an ambulance at like 4 or 5am.

I've never wanted to punch someone more in my life.

But the point I'm trying to make is that I cannot be around the people I was friends with in the group home because they trigger me. They just remind me of those horrible things. And some of them were also abusive. Like there was a girl who high and tried to stab me with a pizza cutter. That's a true story.

And now I don't really have friends because since I live as a perpetual sixteen-year-old I've fucked up since I moved out on my own. I've been through some shit. So now I have agoraphobia and I don't really know where to go to meet people, and whenever I make plans to go somewhere where I might meet them I come up with an excuse NOT to go. Because anxiety.

And my mom was an incredibly strict, abusive evangelical asshole. She still is. I recently realized that she's a fucking Nazi and all that's missing is the inverted swastika as is the case with so many Nazis these days. I don't talk to her much, so I try not to think about it because I am so tired of fighting with her. But I am trauma bonded to her.

A trauma bond is the real life version of Stockholm Syndrome. Think Loki and Odin from the Thor movies. A trauma bond is an involuntarily bond that a survivor forms with their abuser because of emotional abuse. Like if you google cult mind control tactics, emotional abuse are like the building blocks. And that's how trauma bonds are formed.

So when I'm regressed........A huge part of it is doing things I wasn't allowed to do as a child or as a teenager. Like watching R-rated movies or wearing black nail polish -- I wasn't allowed to wear the color black growing up because my mom hated goth people cause she thought they were Satan worshippers. Or reading comic books or watching cbms because my mom always insisted that comic books were for boys. Which was great cause I was obsessed with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles growing up. She thought it was cute until I was about seven and she realized I liked them better than princesses and Barbies. Which like....Barbies are fine, but I think dolls are in general are just creepy and boring.

But also I just love like going to Claire's. Even though I've never actually bought anything from Claire's. I've always been too afraid to because I do like girly things. But I didn't discover Claire's until I was an adult and its obviously a store for little girls and children. And people always thought I was weird for wanting to shop there. Since I'm an adult, but I've like burst in there squealing cause of a stuffed animal cause that's just how I am when I'm regressed. And then I'll just like have to put it back cause everyone is staring at me and I get too scared to buy it.

I also really love to blow bubbles. And fairy lights. And bath bombs but I've never used a bath bomb. I also really love to watch SpongeBob. Like the first five seasons -- just having it on in the background makes me super happy and calm. I like to put on like anime from my childhood or a show I wanted to watch as a kid like Gargoyles which I was never allowed to watch cause my mom wanted me to be girlier. And I'll just cuddle my cats or a stuffed animal.

I also like coloring books, but they have to be the ones for kids cause I'm really insecure about my artistic abilities. The ones for kids make me feel like it's ok for me to mess up.

[daz4i]

actually i AM gonna post abt this again. sorry

like when i say they make me feel like i'm in a story. i mean it

we started talking and immediately clicked. talked nonstop for days really

we both had relationships like that years before, but then paused that behavior bc we were young and it wasn't the healthiest, but now we were adults and knew better. it was the first one after that break for both of us

i avoided this behavior for awhile bc i knew it's not the healthiest but it felt so good when it happened. i (rightfully) feared the crash but at the time, the high was so worth it. and everything was going so smoothly too. things kept aligning just right all the time

every time i thought something is gonna come up or that i did something wrong and now it's all gonna blow up, they proved that i had no reason to worry, bc they let it slide immediately, even liked it

we kind of completed each other in every way. liked the same things and had a lot in common, but were opposites in enough things that we weren't TOO similar

i stopped worrying abt annoying them relatively early into the whole thing (usually it takes me months or even years, or i never stop at all. here it was maybe 2-3 weeks)

we became actually close right on their birthday. a small thing but you gotta admit if this was a story it'd be poetic as hell

every time they had a problem and i jokingly said i'm sending a spell their way to fix it, it passed after like 2 minutes. absolutely insane coincidence stuff

i mentioned this before. and this is gonna be embarrassing but. we met through, well, kin stuff lol. they kin chuuya, i kin dazai, we joked abt kindating etc. anyway my mental health was shit but they genuinely uplifted me a lot. they made me want to live for the first time in who knows how long, maybe ever. i think you can tell why i prefaced this story with that fact 🥲 embarrassing but real

and now this shit? 😭 another small thing but like. i make a post abt them bc now is generally around the time we started talking, and someone i follow queued a post from their blog and it posts right now?? they've been decativated for nearly a year HOW did this line up like that 😭

they unfortunately made me believe in the concept of soulmates :/ but as my friends (and mom. bc she saw me cry over the whole thing for days) said. if they cut me off and hurt me like that, they weren't ~the one~

and another thing that made me feel more like i'm in a teen movie is. i legit spent a day and a half in bed crying and barely doing anything else, after they cut me off. truly cliche stuff. actually that's a good way to put it - they made me feel like a cliche. still do when i think abt it a year later. it was a good thing at first, bad when it ended. i could make a movie abt this barely changing any detail and it'll be an average teen romantic comedy (except i'll have to add some happy ending there)

anyway let me finish all that by saying. who the fuck blocks someone on spotify 😭 dude...

(it's been a year and i got burned so badly from this whole thing that i seriously doubt i'll be able to love someone this much again. i need it to be an instant obsession to actually feel good about love, but i'll never be able to confidently go into any new relationship with that purpose because i'm just too scared things will hurt this much again. it's honestly so depressing lol 🥲 but what can ya do)

(i also became the most suicidal i've ever been since lol. probably bc of how big the drop was. it still hasn't gone away. part of why i see no point in life is bc of that previous paragraph. so.)

[arainmorn-art]

A path of self-destruction

So I’ve seen that 14th March is Write Your Story day. Sounds neat, though I have no ideas for fiction to write about right now. But I have a personal story. I wanted to write about it for quite some time, because for some weird reason I feel more comfortable writing about some psychological stuff in English. It seems easier - and safer. Here might be no people that know me personally. And with a small audience it also feels... like I am in a small circle of silent respectful strangers, telling my story without a chilling fear of being interrupted or shunned. Or being avoided. 

People don’t like sad body horror stories. 

It’s an act of self-preservation for sure, our mind tries to protect us from horrible things, as it tries to be a protective parent guarding its kid. I understand it. It’s not like I tell the whole story to everyone, firstly it would take a long time, secondly - I don’t like making people upset. If people around me, who like me, are getting upset only by mentioning a miniscule part of stuff, why should I force them to listen the rest?

But sometimes... I need to tell it. 

Heh. And how should I begin?

“There once was a girl with a loving family. She had both parents, a mother and a father. But strangely the girl was growing up strongly relating to fatherless kids her age. She was growing up waiting for her father’s death”

An intriguing kind of start, I hope. 

The thing is it’s quite hard for me to tell you about only this part of my forming years, because right after high school there were also several traumatic circumstances I lived with, and stories about my dad and the coup, and the civil war, and severe trust issues, and loosing a feel of basic safety, and a crushing feeling of being a hated outsider in my own country are heavily intertwined. But... I doubt my writing abilities to tell you everything in one post. Maybe next time. I’ll mention those situations briefly, just keep in mind that... well, it was all happening at the same time.

So.

“She was a shy girl, whimsy and timid, a kind that usually becomes some sort of an artist. Five years might be not the best age to learn about death, but this realization came to her quite early. We all gonna die, she realizied, and nothing will stop it. She cried and ran to the kitchen to her mom, looking for comfort, but mom couldn’t say anything to console her. “It happens in many years!”, she tried to tell her crying daughter. She wasn’t expecting this conversation so soon”

I don’t know how others get this awarness of their own mortality. I simply haven’t asked, actually. I got mine after watching Conan the Barbarian and The Fifth Element movies. Oh, and add Princess Mononoke to this soup. And many 80s and 90s scince fiction and action movies, that were by far not kid-friendly! Yeah... my mom admits she and my dad were stupid to show me these movies before elementary school, but now I can tell young gen-Ziers that in my time we were much tougher kids!.. Well, come on, don’t give away all the credits to Don Bluth, a Grand Child Traumatizer, an old Total Recall was a blast! :D 

My mom also thinks that there were too many familiar people who died through my forming years, both relatives and friends. I don’t know, maybe she is right. My grandpa was buried at the day of my 14th birthday, a year before two family friends died, a year after there were grand-grandma and three family friends, and many more...

14 years old. Yeah. I remember, it was a first time when I thought: “My dad will probably die because of a stroke. His face gets so red when he is screaming in anger”. 2008 year, hello, House M.D., teaching me new words.    

“A girl was told by her dad that she had a happy childhood, a roof above her head, a food on her table and some money. Often told. Constantly told. It was true, but was there a need to repeat it? He needed to. He also told her he can clearly see she doesn’t value anything he gave her. That she doesn’t respect him. He demanded love. He believed there were all the ingredients for happiness. He was telling it but he rarely talked to her. They lived in one appartment yet she felt they were a little closer than strangers”

My dad was a complicated man to say the least. He was a large man with a strong physique, a wide chest yet narrow shoulders. His features were rounded: a round face, a big nose, plump lips, bushy eyebrows, even his black beard was making him feel rounder. My whole childhood I was told I was a female copy of him. He was a man leaving a grand impression about him, a succesful man, loved by his friends, relatives and wife... and strangely enough he was also an absent father.

 For some reason I still can vividly remember his dark yellow teeth, black on the edges, and a brown tongue behind them. He drank a very strong black tea, 2 to 4 teabags at the same time in a large cup. The stains after such tea was impossible to wash away. Oh, and I just have to mention the amount of smoking he had. Pack after pack. Some fathers quit smoking when they get kids. My father was smoking even when I, being an infant, was sleeping near him in my mom’s embrace. I never smoked myself. Never ever. 

The smell of cigarettes was everywhere. It was on the furniture, on my clothing, on my hair. The smell was so strong sometimes my teachers in school were asking if somebody recently smoked, although I was a whole day away from home. The smoke turned wallpapers in my dad’s room yellow; a lamp, a table, a computer and bookshelves had a very distinct greasy feel about them because of resin and dust. Maybe only whiskey and vodka bottles were cleaner. They were changing often.

My mom was worried about him. She called it “a path of self-destruction”.

And he still had a leg in those years.

It was 2011, I was still 16, soon turning 17, when I heard about the second type diabetes. I didn’t understand how it workes, but the most shocking news were: “They are going to amputate your father’s big toe”. Oh man, it’s so silly now how scared I was. 

It’s just a toe. 

What’s weird to me to remember that from this and several years later I was fixated on the topic of amputation. It was a repeating theme in my sketches... though it weren’t legs. It were hands. A crying mermaid with amputated hands. A cheerful alien with stumps instead of her arms, with clunky prosthesises made of thin metal tubes. A monster bleeding out with a chopped arm. Zombies falling apart. Decaying robots. A blood. A torn skin. Scars. Bare bones. And crying. Lots of crying characters. It was my weird way of coping. 

So the doctors kept slicing his foot until there were no toes on it.

I thought he was powerful. I thought he could hurt me, though not physically. He never beated me, no. Though I was so stressed I believed my scared mom, that he could kicked us out of the house. 

Bones in my dad’s foot were destructing, because he was refusing to change his lifestyle, even at cost of his own health.

I was 19. It still is a gentle age for a girl. I needed a feeling of safety... and yes, I had it at home. While also being afraid of my dad’s rage, if he knew about my sexuality.

Even if he was already in a wheelchair without a leg. 

And then the coup in 2014 happened. I lived several districts away from it. For me it was one of the most traumatising events. It was brutal. I was afraid I could be killed just while walking with my dog. The world I’ve lived before was burning alive in front of my eyes. People were drunk of inpunishability. A feeling of safety was lost for many years. 

The only thing in her terrified words might be true that he could turn our lives into emotional torture. Oh, he was very good at making you feel like a trash. Like the lowest of the low. Like a pathetic piece of a garbage.

 My father was afraid of death and uncertainty. Numbing himself with alcohol he was able to push through those fears and take care of me and my mom. The truth is... he was a weak man, too. Instead of trying to discipline himself so diabetes would stop devouring his body, the bloodvessels in his brain, his eyes, his legs, his kidneys, my father just... stayed on the path of self-destruction.

No cries would convince him to change so he could stay longer with his loving family.

No foul wound would stop him.

I was 21. I remember that night, when he returned from the hospital. He seriously was at the death’s door. Before his return I’ve cried for several hours feeling guilt that I was angry at him, being horrified that I might loose him. When he returned, I thought about all the inspirational movies I’ve watched, you know, that kind: “After near death experience our protagonist will find a will power to change his life!”. I loved such kind of movies. 

I wanted them to be truth.

I’ve heard my mom starting to weep when she walked out of my dad’s room, yellow of nicotine. I walked into his room and saw him... smoking and pouring a glass. He wanted to relax. As if nothing has happened. As if me and my mom hadn’t cried our eyes out for him.

It was the first time I’ve screamed at him in rage. I was afraid of my dad for those last years, I was always meek and passive around him because he would easily suppres me. But I was enraged at that moment. How dare he smoke after everything. How dare he drink after what doctors told us: “You can start mourning”, because his kidneys were clearly failing. And he was surprised, of course. He started laughing at me. “Look at you! You can be like that?”. I remember his dark yellow teeth glistening in the light of a table lamp. He was laughing in self-defense.

“Hey, look at her!” - he called my mom, rolling his wheelchair to the bathroom door. He kept laughing, almost hysterically, as we both could clearly hear my mom hopelessly crying in the shower.

I felt so much disdain, and anger, and sadness, but most of all - the horror of understanding. Dad was still laughing. My outburst had no other way to leave my chest but to shout at the top of my lungs right in my father’s face: “I wish you would die already!”

He stopped laughing.

I ran to the kitchen and burst into tears sitting on the floor, as that new realization weakened my knees.

There was no hope.

It was not an inspirational movie. It was not a fairytale. It was not a story about taking control over your life and trying to save it. 

It was a story about unstoppable relentless self-destruction. No matter how many bones would crumble, how much flesh would be cut away, how further blind he would become.

It was despair. Soul-crushing despair. In the chaotic world after the coup, during the civil war, where it still felt safer beside my half-blind father with no leg on the wheelchair, than far from him... there were no hope that he would live long enough to even see me graduating from university.

About two more times he was also near death. Diabetes killed his kidneys.

“There once was a boy in a body of a big grown man. Both of his parents died of cancer. His lighthearted yet timid father faded away, turned into a skeleton covered with skin. His narcissistic mother, who looked like a giant jellyfish on her deathbed, died right after her son scolded her for tormenting a nurse. The boy was so lonely and sad no one around him could bring him comfort. Even the sight of sauce that his mother cooked him in the past could brought him into tears. It reminded him how harsh he was with her right before she died. He didn’t say goodbye. Or that he loved her”

I haven’t told my father a proper goodbye either.

I was abroad trying to date a girl that was clearly not a good match for me. I was looking for comfort and haven’t find any. My mother hasn’t told me anything before I returned home. She thought I was happy and didn’t wanted to ruin that trip for me. For several days she was forcing a smile for me during videocalls.

It was cerebral edema. He died at night, delirious and screaming, shouting us to run away, so the infamous nazi gang from my country wouldn’t catch us. She told me when I’ve returned home and at first I haven’t any words to say or any tears to cry.

The 6th January of 2017 was the date of his death.

He kept slowly dying over the next couple of years.

People were confused how I could be so stoic at the funeral. I don’t know myself. I just felt hollow. My mom though was falling apart, overventilating as she tried not to cry while seeing her husband in the coffin. She asked my cousin to slap her across the face so she would no lose consciousness - and yeap, it was me who slaped her, as my cousin was too shocked by such request. I felt that me being calm and stable helped my mom more than anything. I supported her. I gave her comfort. The world was crushing for her without him.

While I was thinking... that, strangely enough, my world continued to exist.

I’ve cried for my father’s death several times, but the death itself wasn’t happening. And when it finally happened, there were not many tears left. Though I still feel the ache in my heart for him. He was so lonely. He had such a big responsibility on his shoulders, he continued to work even in the hospital bed so he could provide us. He tried to protect us from the evil of the world around us even at his last moments.

I respect it tremendously, dad.

I’ve looked into my old drawings I have on my PC. My gosh. So many crying people. I haven’t realized before, how many tears were shed without actual tears, but through my artwork.

It’s such a pity we couldn’t became closer.

Eh.

It’s been six years.

I suppose I can say I’m no longer a person I used to be. I hope so. I was such a coward. 

It’s 3 am on my clock, I’ve been writing for five hours in one sit, gosh darn it. Perhaps I really needed it.    

And I feel better.

Despite everything happened between us, I still love you.

[noplsnoplsno]

Why I believe that I may be an autistic adult woman that was mis/undiganosed

Hi so just a brain dump here, and I am hoping that this is recieved well. If not oh well, it in the internet.

Things that I had as a child with vivid memories:

Ive went through almost my whole life not understanding how people make and maintain friends. Especially multiple friends.

I spent hours, days, weeks, studying social interactions as a child. I would watch movies of women that I wanted to be like (primarily the princess diaries) and would try to copy and learn everything I could to be more likeable. I checked out books on how to have practice social things. I would sit in front of the mirror and practice my face and tone of voice.

I would spend a lot of time creating worlds in my head, living in wonderlands of tiny people that lived in stick homes that I built them outside, delivering food. Creating governmental type systems for them. I would believe that I would be better off if I lived in these worlds.

Deep desires for unusual hobbies of orgainzing over and over again. My poor mom's bookcase has been orgainzed so many times by color, catagory, alphabetized by title, size. Her bookshelf is still organized to this day the way that I left it.

I believed that Pokemon were real at the age of 9 and fully planned to move to Japan to become a pokemon trainer when I turned ten. The day my mother told me they weren't real I didnt believe her and then afterwards had a 7 hour breakdown consistening of crying while continually trying to prove that they were real.

I was always uncomfortable on outings. I wanted to stay home all of the time. I would become distressed at sudden changes to routine, and would beg my mother while crying to just stay home.

In school I would engage in what I suspect is stimming behavior that was self injurous. I would pull my hair out, suck my lips until they bled and painful, I would eat my hair, and bite my nails until they bled. I would chew on my lips until they were raw and swollen. I also chewed my clothing until almost second grade.

I had a strong ability to read beyond my grade level, but I have been diagnosed with dyscalculia.

I was fearful of everything, once I was older. I remember becoming hyperfocused on a zombie survival book and begging my parents to become doomsday preppers and let me practice baracading their windows.

Sensory issues with clothing, those seams in socks, holy fuck, felt like their were stabbing my toes.

Afrid, I ate maybe a variety of 12 different foods and drinks and that lasted until I turned 14. I was terrified of new foods, their smell, their texture. But specifically the smell would be enought to make my stomach hurt.

Abnormal walking. I would walk on my toes, and remember my mom training me for almost two weeks outside to walk flatfooted, and to swing my arms instead of keeping them like sticks at my sides.

My mom took me to the doctor for my "little quirks" as she called them mutliple times, for the doctors to tell her that I was fine and just a little weird. Even despite her worries I stayed unsupported. I had to go to an alternative high-school just to graduate because I was not able to understand everything being spoken during lectures. I was unable to follow along as well as my peers despite being ,"Gifted."

As an adult:

I still have to monitor my voice, face, body language and how people react to me. I find social interaction absolutely exhausting and refuse to do it for more than two social outings in a row, and the following weekends I will be avoiding everyone and everything. I hate wearing clothes at home and will strip as soon as I walk in the door to change into a snuggie. Ive spent thousands of dollars on crafting supplies that I become obsessed with and then no longer use. I can pick up creative skills in an unnaturally fast way just by watching a single youtube video. I have issues with fast burn out in jobs and I cry a lot after work. I study psychology for fun, reading studies on pubmed and learning facts about the brain, especially abnormally psychology. I have been told my voice is "robotic" and that I come off as "sacrastic" by important people in my life such as my bosses at jobs, teachers, and clients. I have issues understanding verbal instructions and prefer to have them wrote down. I flunked out of college when I started to have to take classes in person rather than online because I could not understand what the important parts of the lectures were and the unimportant. I socially camoflauge but I still prefer to be a bystander in social situations. I have never dated casually, and always prefer to be in fully transparent longterm relationships because I struggle to keep up an appearance of a fully functional person for very long before people I want to be close to start assuming that something might be off. I have a routine I follow, and if I deviate from it my emotional state makes a downward spiral. I am able to go to work, day in day out, but I have a terrible temper after work. I developed a smoking habit to soothe myself that I am now in the process of breaking. I still have eating distrider issues regarding eating enough, or a healthy balance of food. I become obsessed with certain foods and dips. I generally feel that I am out of control rather quickly and deal with it by doing a ton of cleaning routines or making big decisions to feel more in control. When I hit meltdown level I close off, cry a lot, I become angry when people try and talk to me. I prefer to not hear anything in these states and prefer heavy pressure like my fiance laying on top of me or to just hold me tightly and pet my hair. I listen to calming music and sing really loudly and probably way too loud rock music for someone with hearing loss. I struggle in interviews, I hate eye contact and will stare passed someone or at a wall instead of looking at others when I have decided that I no longer want to try and blend in. I struggle the most in groups, and usually choose to not speak and only laugh when appropriate.

I still prefer things are probably young for my age. I am 26 and I prefer sanrio, all pink, stickers, squishamellows. I collect rocks and obsess over certain aesthetics for hours. People in my life still believe I am gifted but I dont feel that way. I still feel like ive never been on the same wavelength as other people, I hate that people look for some weird fucking hidden meaning behind my words and look at my tone and face instead of just applying the meanings of words to my words.

I have all of maybe 2 friends that I have maintained, and I still go months sometimes without speaking to them.

I only started considering this as a possibility once my son was born and was diagnosed with autism. I started realizing how much of the things he struggles with are things I also struggled with, but in different ways. I doubt it is even worth getting diagnosed at this age because like, for what ya know?

[esterzach]

I love this interview. To me, this is how a conversation should go. That's how people actually learn and understand more about the person behind the celebrity status, or the scientist, or the politician. Let them talk. I kind of avoided that one, to be honest. Mostly because I expected them to speak of art and cinema, and honestly what do I know about these things? Nothing. I thought that this was the kind of conversation that would fall on deaf ears with me in general.

But I was wrong. I love that there is so much here to unpack if you listen carefully.

I admit I laughed a bit too much at the story of the Oscar nomination and the toy car. But what impressed me was her answer to the question around the end, when they asked her something along the lines of how you deal with people who are hard to work with. You can see her hesitation and almost as if she doesn't want to speak about it, or want to but buying time to formulate her answer without offending someone. And all of a sudden, she remembers a specific situation, where not someone else but she is the one that screwed up. Even though it wasn't intentional, it's the kind of behaviour that makes you think "Hollywood primadonna" or something like that. But the level of self-reflecting here, and the mature way she thinks of it is an example of how a person should think and behave. I imagine some people wouldn't be that graceful or wouldn't find fault in their behavior in a similar case. I've heard enough stories of the pretentious behavior of the big stars, and sometimes it feels like some of those people forget that they don't exist alone and are isolated in the world, that without the hundreds of people around them, their "art" is nothing, because it would not have even the chance to happen or be seen at all. The small remark about how Ben Affleck might have preferred someone else for Gone Girl made me... slightly angry. I understand she probably didn't mean anything wrong at all, but I also assume she had a reason to say something like that or feel something like that. Made me remember why I didn't like him for years, and I have no idea why. Other than the infamous interview with Ben Maher and Sam Harris, which made me think that person is either a complete idiot or so drunk/high, that he completely lost it, I doubt I have other reasons. Still... dunno. A gut feeling, I guess. The point is, that someone made her feel that way, that insecure, that she doubted they wanted her there in the first place. Maybe I am projecting, maybe it's a past experience and a lot of it, but I definitely hate this type of feeling with passion. I love that when she talks about Hostiles, her voice starts to crack almost as if she is about to cry as if she was relieving the story again. I have mixed feelings about this movie. It's an interesting story and at the same time I found myself thinking "OK, that's too much, I got your point, enough." It felt as if the violence was too much, made me wonder how the hell those people survived all this, and what kind of mindset this creates in the next generations, what they carry in their genetic memory. It was so disturbing that at some point I hit pause and wondered if I should finish that. It's a good movie, but it slightly felt a bit too all over the place. I think I understand the idea behind it, and I agree with it, but it makes me think "What's the point of all this?". I guess I don't understand the mindset.

A random thought... while I watched: Probably it's just me, but I have this feeling of dumbing down and simplifying the language in the last I don't know how many years that comes from the media. It feels like someone decided that being educated is some sort of bad thing and somehow succeeded in instilling that idea in people's heads. It's almost as if there is this sense of fear of educated people as if this is a privilege only of the rich, which... is beyond idiotic in my eyes. I came from a place where there was that mantra for generations, it felt as if it's been there forever that knowledge is power, knowledge is a value, and science is the way we should follow. All of a sudden that changed somewhere in the 90s with the increasing influence of one particular culture. That's... opens a whole different conversation. What I mean is this woman's way of speaking makes me feel sane. I don't mean the accent. It's the reasoning. The way she formulates her thoughts. And the calm temp of speaking. I was so tired of listening to people who couldn't stitch a sentence together and mask their lack of knowledge with overly animated mannerisms and dumb laughter. And it was somehow expected of me to admire and clap to that. Laugh along, because it's appropriate! It is accepted, and everyone else does it. No!

[tarotwithdanise]

Who is your secret admirer?

꒰⠀from left to right ; intuitively choose the pile your mind, heart and soul desire for. if you are having trouble choosing the right pile for you, here’s some tips you can do ; (1) take a deep breath (2) close your eyes (3) ask guidance from your guides (4) finally open your eyes and you can choose the right pile for you by the guidance you ask from your guides. if you are still having trouble by choosing the right pile for you let me know because i am willing to help and guide you.

Pile one

Your secret admirer is confused by the connection between the two of you; they feel emotionally distant from you as well there are no romantic possibilities between the two of you. They have only a few friends and are mostly lonely. They maybe practicing to be healers or have clairvoyance ability. Perhaps of knowing you for awhile or for a very long time? There's a deep feeling of them that telling you won't lay your eyes on them even a single second. Also, I don't think they will come to you to confess these feelings due to fear of rejection. They prefer to keep it to themselves. Some of you have the impression that this is one of your friends who really admires you, not really romantically, but just a platonically. They probably thinking there's no win for this connection so they decided to won't approach you. For them, you are perfectly fine inside and out and maybe they just want to protect their heart from rejection. They percieve you as vulnerable individual that can break their heart into pieces. You gonna frequently sees them wearing glasses and a very strange smile.

Pile two

Your secret admirer is someone you've met or is gonna meet online; it could be someone you are talking to right now, just in case if you already had one. This is someone who is intelligent and witty; they wanted to make you laugh or see your beautiful smile a lot; they may have seen you cry once and they hated that fact. This person doesn't want to see you cry; they don't want to see you hurt. This person can daydreaming a lot that there's happening between the two of you like watching movies, going out together, shopping together and many more. In their dreams, they imagine the two of you as a couple and they felt happy about it. Thirsty and curiosity about what's going on in your head and what you feels about them, this person is interested in knowing everything about you. If they admit their feelings, there's a chance you could end up together, but I don't see them making the first move, or either of them wanting to risk the chances at all.

Pile three

This person is someone who is very picky about who they gonna crushed with or fall in love with. They rejected or leave behind a lot of their opposite s-x- they can be a heartbreak or a player as well. This person becomes your secret admirer because they see you as someone who is not easy to like or someone who is not ready to give them a chance even though you seems a little different from their desires and type and they feel be challenged. If they are someone whose already have a job, they might change jobs often as they it is even the fact they are hardworking individuals. I do see here that you won't let this person control you it's not only because you felt romantic feelings about them and what else? perhaps you rejected their offer and tried your best to avoid them. It's as if you wanted this kind of person but you don't prefer them as individual. You don't imagine them as your lovers, but they are.

Pile four

You might be attracted to pile one; you can check out the message for that pile. Holy sh-t, your secret admirer is a close friend (take if this resonates); this person is shy and very sensitive. This person really likes you but is afraid to tell you so because they are afraid to lose you or they felt hurt seeing you in a relationship with another person. Why is this person afraid to lose you by their side when they aren't sure about their feelings at all? It's like they are 50/50 about it. Oh, I understand now. They are afraid to lose you because they want to take advantage of you; in short, they want to use you maybe you are so witty and popular so people like you so much than them, just be careful. You won't have any romantic connection with this person because the chances are very low, but if you do, the partnership will be looking very difficult. I advise you to collect all of the information first before making decisions or moving forward for this connection. You don't have to worry or be fooled by this person because the right one is waiting for you. Just give yourself more extra love and take it easy for now.

Pile five

Your secret admirer is someone you have met at an event, like a social family gathering or party. They might be working in the field of the army, especially as soldiers; for some of you, I'm getting into the field of hospitality, tourism, or event planning. Why? I'm getting that this is a twin flame journey, and thus union has the potential to become a long-lasting relationship if they will pursue you. This is someone who feels that seeing you speak or chit-chat with them makes them feel excited and uplifted by your presence, and their eyes speak a lot of adoration. Perhaps you are being put on a pedestal with them; oh my, it's confirmed that this person will pursue their feelings for you; it's like they're going to be an open book with their feelings for you and putting aside their shyness and no longer denying them. Perhaps they are a jealous type of person. They might also be very charming and have a huge circle of friends, or they maybe somewhat be popular.

Pile six

This is someone who you just met recently. This might be still a student, or if not, a colleague, but I'm getting more students, so they might be a classmate or a schoolmate. The possibility of being in a romantic relationship with this person is 50/50, like in between of a yes or no; it's maybe not unless you change your life now away from all the drama. They will like you because you are very beautiful, and this person could fall in love with your looks. Make sure this person also likes you for who you truly are because they did not like you for who you are and they just casually admired your looks.They wanted to deeply touch your soul. You might attend a seminar at a university or joining a club that is associated with health. You might like to leave the past behind and start a new beginning, so if you wanted to do what you loved, this is a sign to do it. You might have the abilities of a psychic and a healer; for the rest of this, you might acquire to meet them on online too, like in Pile II.

© tarotwithdanise ── all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, alter, or repost my work in any other social media platforms with or without my explicit permission.

[suna-reversed]

Jujutsu Kaisen hcs- “please don’t leave”

alt. title- needy late night moments

Characters- Yuji, Gojo, Sukuna, Megumi

Tags- angst if you squint but mainly fluff

Yuji- 

- You fell asleep on him while watching a horror movie late night. 

- His one hand clutched the popcorn bowl, the other coming around to cradle your head subconsciously as your body slumped over into his side. 

- His main task for the next hour was to not move a single muscle in fear you’d wake up and go inside the bedroom to sleep.

- He’s just been a little touch starved and liked the warmth you were radiating.

- His task proves to be quite difficult considering he was watching a horror movie with jump-scares every two minutes. 

- It takes 5 failed attempts at Yuji trying not to jolt up whenever something pops up for you to finally stir awake, and you find your eyes meeting with the absolutely terror filled ones of your lover.

- “Please don’t leave” he whispers in a voice that makes your heart break. You end up taking that as him being scared of the movie

- Still in a sleepy daze, you crawl over into his lap, affectionately nosing at his neck while his strong arms come around to hold you tightly, 

- “I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here mmkay?” A smile of pure tenderness forms across Yuji’s face, soon enough turning into choking laughter as you sleepily mumble, “I’m ready to throw hands with them dead people”

- “Zombies, babe. They’re zombies.”

- “The only thing they’ll be once I’m done with them is...dead” You slur out that last part, falling back into slumber with a small smile on your face as you feel Yuji shake with silent laughter, his hand coming up to gently pat the back of your head,

- “Thank you baby, I’d throw hands with zombies for you any-day too.”

Gojo Satoru 

- You rolled over in the empty bed for the thousandth time that night. You had learned long before that on most nights you’ll be sleeping without your Satoru.

- So what was different today? Maybe it was the fact that he had informed you of his return. But it had been 2 days since then, and Gojo had never not shown up the same day that he’d told you he was coming back.

- Despite knowing the man you loved was practically undefeatable by most, your mind had considered every single possibility, from him getting captured by a curse to him tripping over and falling into an abandoned sewage line.

- Your stomach churned with anxiety as you considered whether calling Nanami this late to check on Gojo would be a good idea.

- You were halfway into typing his number when you heard the familiar click of the door unlocking, your feet carrying you to the front door faster than your mind could process it.

- And there he was. The bag of sweets he gets you each time in his left hand as he apprehended you with a raised brow and cocky look, 

- “Couldn’t sleep without me sweetheart?”

- He was met with eerie silence as you continued to stare at him. Your sleep deprived mind still processing that he was home. He was safe. 

- Gojo immediately sensed that something was wrong, but before he could react, you were walking towards him, crashing into his arms as he brought his hands around you when-

Thump! 

- Did you just...punch his chest? 

- “I was- I was so scared” you sniffed into his chest. “...you idiot.”

- Gojo’s heart twisted in pain as he heard a sob escape you, his arms tightening around you as he rested his chin on your head. He let you cry it out, gently picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom in midst of you murmuring various swear words at him 

- He finally felt you beginning to calm down as he tucked you in the on your side of the bed. But, as he pulled away, he felt a hand clutch onto his wrist, 

- “Please don’t leave” you said, your voice quivering. 

- “Baby...” he said with a gentle voice, “I’m just going to go change, okay? I’m not going anywhere”

- Even as Gojo changed, he felt your eyes digging into his back like he’d disappear if you let him out of sight for even a moment. 

- He quickly pulled on a pair of sweats, opting to not wear a shirt as he moved into bed with you, your limbs immediately coming to wrap around him. 

- You laid in silence for a while 

- “y/n?” You hummed in acknowledgement, face still buried in his chest

- “I’m always going to come back home to you my love. That’s a promise okay?” 

- You nodded in response, eyes turning glassy once more as Gojo leaned forward to pepper kisses all over your forehead, cheeks, and nose. 

- Gojo lifted his blindfold as he felt your breathing slow down, his ocean eyes filled with utmost adoration as he simply let himself admire your sleeping form. 

Sukuna

- The curse found itself being stuck in its vessel at the most useless of times. - 

- After a late night mission when the brat crashed at your surveillanced apartment, while you completed the formalities and paperwork to submit to Nanami the next morning. 

- Walking out of the guest room, Sukuna found himself amused by your ability to fall asleep in the weirdest of places

- Currently, you sat hunched over the kitchen table, head resting sideways in your arms, tiny snores leaving your mouth as your eyes remained shut. 

- The curse looked back to a few days ago when it had found itself in it’s vessel’s body unwillingly again, a strange warmth curled in his left side. Looking down, he had realised that the strange warmth came from your huddled up body. 

- You had immediately snapped open your eyes and moved away as soon as he had let out a low chuckle. 

- So this time, he approached you carefully. But even then, he had expected you to sense someone’s presence so close next to you. 

- But there was no reaction from you, even as he pulled the chair right next to you and sat down on it.

- “Oi brat”

- Still no response.

- Oh, had you finally let your guard down?

- A dozen different malicious ideas filled Sukuna’s mind, but he found himself simply sitting there, awaiting for a reaction from you. 

- He wondered how you could sleep so comfortably on what was practically a wooden slab. And he found his answer questioned as he curiously leaned down on his own arms, facing you, your noses merely an inch away as he regarded your calm face with a raised brow. 

- He had imagined you to be snarky and biting at him even in your sleep. 

- Why had he imagined you sleeping at all?

- He found himself avoiding the question.

- He stilled as your eyes fluttered open, a cocky smile making it’s way on his lips as he awaited your fear filled eyes. 

- Instead, he found you simply staring back at him, the most of a reaction being you furrowing your brows slightly 

- He didn’t know whether he was a little offended by your lack of response or highly unsettled by your piercing gaze. Nonetheless, he found himself turning his head away, almost in a petty childlike manner. 

- Why did he not get up and leave?

- He felt a hand come to the back of his head, and his senses instantly got ready to go into offensive mode. 

- But this was something much much worse than an attack.

- He found your fingers gently brush over his hair, almost like you were absorbing it’s softness into your fingertips. The breaking point was you gently scratching his head with your nails. He almost purred. 

- But he also found his own hand coming up to grip your wrist, stilling your hand in place.

- “What-are-you-doing?” He emphasised each word as he turned his towards you again, hand still holding yours above his head.

- You continued to stare at him with a look he didn’t quite understand,

- “Your hair is...soft” You slurred your words a little, wiggling your fingers that were trapped in his hand. He let go, only to find you entangling your hand back into his hair, quite shamelessly this time as you closed your eyes once again.

- He didn’t know whether it was the tiredness of that night or simply your sleepiness, but you didn’t acknowledge it the next day. He chose not to either even though he had spent all night thinking of how he’d get to tease you with this.

- But, the king of curses did find himself leaning more towards you whenever you were in his presence. Your hand brushing with his every now and then. Him gently tugging on a strand of hair before tucking it behind your ear and you letting him. Staying right there if he woke up with you on his shoulder while on the train back from a mission. 

- Eventually, you show up to Yuji’s room on a day much similar to the night where you first touched the curse, eyes sunken and shoulders slumped, desperate for any sort of comfort and almost relieved at the fact that he was there. 

- He was taken back as you climbed into the bed, arms wrapping around him, hands going straight to tangle themselves in his hair as you buried your face in his chest.

- “Please don’t leave” 

- He found his own arms pulling you further into him because who was he to deny you when your touch felt so divine? 

Megumi

- Getting a call from Megumi at 2 am after you had just returned from a mission was the last thing you had expected

- Megumi had grown considerably close to you for a boy who didn’t always wear his emotions on his sleeve.

- However, perhaps it was the fact that you had ended up giving him a tiny huge scare by going missing for a few hours on the mission

- It wasn’t anything major, you had gotten injured and accidentally strayed off the path you were ordered to follow

- Nonetheless, the news had reached the school, particularly Megumi, who was halfway out, ready to go and save you from whatever had taken you when the message had come that they had found you unconscious in some corner of the forest. He had only left the infirmary after being assured countless times that you were fine and being pulled away by Yuji.

- Still, he found his mind running and all he wanted was to hear your voice to make sure you were okay.

- He honestly hadn’t expected you to pick up, but he hadn’t known that the nurse had allowed you to go back to your dorm once you woke up.

- So he found himself speechless as he heard your voice

- “...Megumi? Is everything okay?”

- “Yes” he murmured.

- “The nurse told me you were there with me for quite a while…”

- There was a beat of silence before he said,

- “You scared me”

- He immediately hung up after that.

- You knew that it was difficult for him to express such emotions and so you found your feet carrying you to the front of his door

- You weren’t exactly sure of what you were going to do, but you didn’t have to figure that out as the door opened in your face, Megumi gesturing for you to come in.

- As soon as you shut the door, you felt your body being pulled into his warm embrace. You sighed, taking in his familiar scent of night-chilled mist and cedar as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

- You eventually ended up on his bed, limbs tangled with each other under the sheets as he traced random patterns onto your arm to convey the words he couldn’t say, till he fell asleep.

- You found yourself noticing the time, sighing as you got ready to go back to your dorm, but Megumi noticed the slight movement,

- “Angel...” he murmured sleepily, nuzzling his head into your neck, “Please don’t leave.”

- Your heart melted at his words and the consequences of sleeping in another student’s room seemed to fade from your mind as you tightened your grip on him,

- “Never”

[transgenderteensurvivalguide]

“Elliot Page doesn’t remember exactly how long he had been asking.

But he does remember the acute feeling of triumph when, around age 9, he was finally allowed to cut his hair short. “I felt like a boy,” Page says. “I wanted to be a boy. I would ask my mom if I could be someday.” Growing up in Halifax, Nova Scotia, Page visualized himself as a boy in imaginary games, freed from the discomfort of how other people saw him: as a girl. After the haircut, strangers finally started perceiving him the way he saw himself, and it felt both right and exciting.

The joy was short-lived. Months later, Page got his first break, landing a part as a daughter in a Canadian mining family in the TV movie Pit Pony. He wore a wig for the film, and when Pit Pony became a TV show, he grew his hair out again. “I became a professional actor at the age of 10,” Page says. And pursuing that passion came with a difficult compromise. “Of course I had to look a certain way.”

We are speaking in late February. It is the first interview Page, 34, has given since disclosing in December that he is transgender, in a heartfelt letter posted to Instagram, and he is crying before I have even uttered a question. “Sorry, I’m going to be emotional, but that’s cool, right?” he says, smiling through his tears.

It’s hard for him to talk about the days that led up to that disclosure. When I ask how he was feeling, he looks away, his neck exposed by a new short haircut. After a pause, he presses his hand to his heart and closes his eyes. “This feeling of true excitement and deep gratitude to have made it to this point in my life,” he says, “mixed with a lot of fear and anxiety.”

It’s not hard to understand why a trans person would be dealing with conflicting feelings in this moment. Increased social acceptance has led to more young people describing themselves as trans—1.8% of Gen Z compared with 0.2% of boomers, according to a recent Gallup poll—yet this has fueled conservatives who are stoking fears about a “transgender craze.” President Joe Biden has restored the right of transgender military members to serve openly, and in Hollywood, trans people have never had more meaningful time onscreen. Meanwhile, J.K. Rowling is leveraging her cultural capital to oppose transgender equality in the name of feminism, and lawmakers are arguing in the halls of Congress over the validity of gender identities. “Sex has become a political football in the culture wars,” says Chase Strangio, deputy director for transgender justice at the ACLU.

(Full article with photos continued under the “read more”)

And so Page—who charmed America as a precocious pregnant teenager in Juno, constructed dreamscapes in Inception and now stars in Netflix’s hit superhero show The Umbrella Academy, the third season of which he’s filming in Toronto—expected that his news would be met with both applause and vitriol. “What I was anticipating was a lot of support and love and a massive amount of hatred and transphobia,” says Page. “That’s essentially what happened.” What he did not anticipate was just how big this story would be. Page’s announcement, which made him one of the most famous out trans people in the world, started trending on Twitter in more than 20 countries. He gained more than 400,000 new followers on Instagram on that day alone. Thousands of articles were published. Likes and shares reached the millions. Right-wing podcasters readied their rhetoric about “women in men’s locker rooms.” Casting directors reached out to Page’s manager saying it would be an honor to cast Page in their next big movie.

So, it was a lot. Over the course of two conversations, Page will say that understanding himself in all the specifics remains a work in progress. Fathoming one’s gender, an identity innate and performed, personal and social, fixed and evolving, is complicated enough without being under a spotlight that never seems to turn off. But having arrived at a critical juncture, Page feels a deep sense of responsibility to share his truth. “Extremely influential people are spreading these myths and damaging rhetoric—every day you’re seeing our existence debated,” Page says. “Transgender people are so very real.”

That role in Pit Pony led to other productions and eventually, when Page was 16, to a film called Mouth to Mouth. Playing a young anarchist, Page had a chance to cut his hair again. This time, he shaved it off completely. The kids at his high school teased him, but in photos he has posted from that time on social media he looks at ease. Page’s head was still shaved when he mailed in an audition tape for the 2005 thriller Hard Candy. The people in charge of casting asked him to audition again in a wig. Soon, the hair was back.

Page’s tour de force performance in Hard Candy led, two years later, to Juno, a low-budget indie film that brought Page Oscar, BAFTA and Golden Globe nominations and sudden megafame. The actor, then 21, struggled with the stresses of that ascension. The endless primping, red carpets and magazine spreads were all agonizing reminders of the disconnect between how the world saw Page and who he knew himself to be. “I just never recognized myself,” Page says. “For a long time I could not even look at a photo of myself.” It was difficult to watch the movies too, especially ones in which he played more feminine roles.

Page loved making movies, but he also felt alienated by Hollywood and its standards. Alia Shawkat, a close friend and co-star in 2009’s Whip It,describes all the attention from Juno as scarring. “He had a really hard time with the press and expectations,” Shawkat says. “‘Put this on! And look this way! And this is sexy!’”

By the time he appeared in blockbusters like X-Men: The Last Stand and Inception, Page was suffering from depression, anxiety and panic attacks. He didn’t know, he says, “how to explain to people that even though [I was] an actor, just putting on a T-shirt cut for a woman would make me so unwell.” Shawkat recalls Page’s struggles with clothes. “I’d be like, ‘Hey, look at all these nice outfits you’re getting,’ and he would say, ‘It’s not me. It feels like a costume,’” she says. Page tried to convince himself that he was fine, that someone who was fortunate enough to have made it shouldn’t have complaints. But he felt exhausted by the work required to “just exist,” and thought more than once about quitting acting.

In 2014, Page came out as gay, despite feeling for years that “being out was impossible” given his career. (Gender identity and sexual orientation are, of course, distinct, but one queer identity can coexist with another.) In an emotional speech at a Human Rights Campaign conference, Page talked about being part of an industry “that places crushing standards” on actors and viewers alike. “There are pervasive stereotypes about masculinity and femininity that define how we’re all supposed to act, dress and speak,” Page went on. “And they serve no one.”

The actor started wearing suits on the red carpet. He found love, marrying choreographer Emma Portner in 2018. He asserted more agency in his career, producing his own films with LGBTQ leads like Freeheld and My Days of Mercy. And he made a masculine wardrobe a condition of taking roles. Yet the daily discord was becoming unbearable. “The difference in how I felt before coming out as gay to after was massive,” says Page. “But did the discomfort in my body ever go away? No, no, no, no.”

In part, it was the isolation forced by the pandemic that brought to a head Page’s wrestling with gender. (Page and Portner separated last summer, and the two divorced in early 2021. “We’ve remained close friends,” Page says.) “I had a lot of time on my own to really focus on things that I think, in so many ways, unconsciously, I was avoiding,” he says. He was inspired by trailblazing trans icons like Janet Mock and Laverne Cox, who found success in Hollywood while living authentically. Trans writers helped him understand his feelings; Page saw himself reflected in P. Carl’s memoir Becoming a Man. Eventually “shame and discomfort” gave way to revelation. “I was finally able to embrace being transgender,” Page says, “and letting myself fully become who I am.”

This led to a series of decisions. One was asking the world to call him by a different name, Elliot, which he says he’s always liked. Page has a tattoo that says E.P. PHONE HOME, a reference to a movie about a young boy with that name. “I loved E.T. when I was a kid and always wanted to look like the boys in the movies, right?” he says. The other decision was to use different pronouns—for the record, both he/him and they/them are fine. (When I ask if he has a preference on pronouns for the purposes of this story, Page says, “He/him is great.”)

A day before we first speak, Page will talk to his mom about this interview and she will tell him, “I’m just so proud of my son.” He grows emotional relating this and tries to explain that his mom, the daughter of a minister, who was born in the 1950s, was always trying to do what she thought was best for her child, even if that meant encouraging young Page to act like a girl. “She wants me to be who I am and supports me fully,” Page says. “It is a testament to how people really change.”

Another decision was to get top surgery. Page volunteers this information early in our conversation; at the time he posted his disclosure on Instagram, he was recovering in Toronto. Like many trans people, Page emphasizes being trans isn’t all about surgery. For some people, it’s unnecessary. For others, it’s unaffordable. For the wider world, the media’s focus on it has sensationalized transgender bodies, inviting invasive and inappropriate questions. But Page describes surgery as something that, for him, has made it possible to finally recognize himself when he looks in the mirror, providing catharsis he’s been waiting for since the “total hell” of puberty. “It has completely transformed my life,” he says. So much of his energy was spent on being uncomfortable in his body, he says. Now he has that energy back.

For the transgender community at large, visibility does not automatically lead to acceptance. Around the globe, transgender people deal disproportionately with violence and discrimination. Anti-trans hate crimes are on the rise in the U.K. along with increasingly transphobic rhetoric in newspapers and tabloids. In the U.S., in addition to the perennial challenges trans people face with issues like poverty and homelessness, a flurry of bills in state legislatures would make it a crime to provide transition-related medical care to trans youth. And crass old jokes are still in circulation. When Biden lifted the ban on open service for transgender troops, Saturday Night Live’s Michael Che did a bit on Weekend Update about the policy being called “don’t ask, don’t tuck.”

Page says coming out as trans was “selfish” on one level: “It’s for me. I want to live and be who I am.” But he also felt a moral imperative to do so, given the times. Human identity is complicated and mysterious, but politics insists on fitting everything into boxes. In today’s culture wars, simplistic beliefs about gender—e.g., chromosomes = destiny—are so widespread and so deep-seated that many people who hold those beliefs don’t feel compelled to consider whether they might be incomplete or prejudiced. On Feb. 24, after a passionate debate on legislation that would ban discrimination against LGBTQ people, Representative Marie Newman, an Illinois Democrat, proudly displayed the pride flag in support of her daughter, who is trans. Representative Marjorie Taylor Greene, a Georgia Republican, responded by hanging a poster outside her office that read: There are TWO genders: MALE & FEMALE.

The next day Dr. Rachel Levine, who stands to become the first openly transgender federal official confirmed by the Senate, endured a tirade from Senator Rand Paul about “genital mutilation” during her confirmation hearing. My second conversation with Page happens shortly after this. He brings it up almost immediately, and seems both heartbroken and determined. He wants to emphasize that top surgery, for him, was “not only life-changing but lifesaving.” He implores people to educate themselves about trans lives, to learn how crucial medical care can be, to understand that lack of access to it is one of the many reasons that an estimated 41% of transgender people have attempted suicide, according to one survey.

Page has been in the political trenches for a while, having leaned into progressive activism after coming out as queer in 2014. For two seasons, he and best friend Ian Daniel filmed Gaycation, a Viceland series that explored LGBTQ culture around the world and, at one point, showed Page grilling Senator Ted Cruz at the Iowa State Fair about discrimination against queer people. In 2019, Page made a documentary called There’s Something in the Water, which explores environmental hardships experienced by communities of color in Nova Scotia, with $350,000 of his own money. That activism extends to his own industry: in 2017, he published a Facebook post that, among other things, accused director Brett Ratner of forcibly outing him as gay on the set of an X-Men movie. (A representative for Ratner did not respond to a request for comment.)

As a trans person who is white, wealthy and famous, Page has a unique kind of privilege, and with it an opportunity to advocate for those with less. According to the U.S. Trans Survey, a large-scale report from 2015, transgender people of color are more likely to experience unemployment, harassment by police and refusals of medical care. Nearly half of all Black respondents reported being denied equal treatment, verbally harassed and/or physically attacked in the past year. Trans people as a group fare much worse on such stats than the general population. “My privilege has allowed me to have resources to get through and to be where I am today,” Page says, “and of course I want to use that privilege and platform to help in the ways I can.”

Since his disclosure, Page has been mostly quiet on social media. One exception has been to tweet on behalf of the ACLU, which is in the midst of fighting anti-trans bills and laws around the country, including those that ban transgender girls and women from participating in sports. Mississippi Governor Tate Reeves says he will sign such a bill in the name of “protect[ing] young girls.” Page played competitive soccer and vividly recalls the agony of being told he would have to play on the girls’ team once he aged out of mixed-gender squads. After an appeal, Page was allowed to play with the boys for an additional year. Today, several bills list genitalia as a requirement for deciding who plays on which team. “I would have been in that position as a kid,” Page says. “It’s horrific.”

All this advocacy is unlikely to make life easier. “You can’t enter into certain spaces as a public trans person,” says the ACLU’s Strangio, “without being prepared to spend some percentage of your life being threatened and harassed.” Yet, while he seems overwhelmed at times, Page is also eager. Many of the political attacks on trans people—whether it is a mandate that bathroom use be determined by birth sex, a blanket ban on medical interventions for trans kids or the suggestion that trans men are simply wayward women beguiled by male privilege—carry the same subtext: that trans people are mistaken about who they are. “We know who we are,” Page says. “People cling to these firm ideas [about gender] because it makes people feel safe. But if we could just celebrate all the wonderful complexities of people, the world would be such a better place.”

Even if Page weren’t vocal, his public presence would communicate something powerful. That is in part because of what Paisley Currah, a professor of political science at Brooklyn College, calls “visibility gaps.” Historically, trans women have been more visible, in culture and in Hollywood, than trans men. There are many explanations: Our culture is obsessed with femininity. Men’s bodies are less policed and scrutinized. Patriarchal people tend to get more emotional about who is considered to be in the same category as their daughters. “And a lot of trans men don’t stand out as trans,” says Currah, who is a trans man himself. “I think we’ve taken up less of the public’s attention because masculinity is sort of the norm.”

During our interviews, Page will repeatedly refer to himself as a “transgender guy.” He also calls himself nonbinary and queer, but for him, transmasculinity is at the center of the conversation right now. “It’s a complicated journey,” he says, “and an ongoing process.”

While the visibility gap means that trans men have been spared some of the hate endured by trans women, it has also meant that people like Page have had fewer models. “There were no examples,” Page says of growing up in Halifax in the 1990s. There are many queer people who have felt “that how they feel deep inside isn’t a real thing because they never saw it reflected back to them,” says Tiq Milan, an activist, author and transgender man. Page offers a reflection: “They can see that and say, ‘You know what, that’s who I am too,’” Milan says. When there aren’t examples, he says, “people make monsters of us.”

For decades, that was something Hollywood did. As detailed in the 2020 Netflix documentary Disclosure, transgender people have been portrayed onscreen as villainous and deceitful, tragic subplots or the butt of jokes. In a sign of just how far the industry has come—spurred on by productions like Pose and trailblazers like Mock—Netflix offered to change the credits on The Umbrella Academy the same day that its star posted his statement on social media. Now when an episode ends, the first words viewers see are “Elliot Page.”

Today, there are many out trans and nonbinary actors, directors and producers. Storylines involving trans people are more common, more respectful. Sometimes that aspect of identity is even incidental, rather than the crux of a morality tale. And yet Hollywood can still seem a frightening place for LGBTQ people to come out. “It’s an industry that says, ‘Don’t do that,’” says director Silas Howard, who got his break on Amazon’s show Transparent, which made efforts to hire transgender crew members. “I wouldn’t have been hired if they didn’t have a trans initiative,” Howard says. “I’m always aware of that.”

So what will it mean for Page’s career? While Page has appeared in many projects, he also faced challenges landing female leads because he didn’t fit Hollywood’s narrow mold. Since Page’s Instagram post, his team is seeing more activity than they have in years. Many of the offers coming in—to direct, to produce, to act—are trans-related, but there are also some “dude roles.”

Downtime in quarantine helped Page accept his gender identity. “I was finally able to embrace being transgender,” he says.

Page was attracted to the role of Vanya in The Umbrella Academy because—in the first season, released in 2019—Vanya is crushed by self-loathing, believing herself to be the only ordinary sibling in an extraordinary family. The character can barely summon the courage to move through the world. “I related to how much Vanya was closed off,” Page says. Now on set filming the third season, co-workers have seen a change in the actor. “It seems like there’s a tremendous weight off his shoulders, a feeling of comfort,” says showrunner Steve Blackman. “There’s a lightness, a lot more smiling.” For Page, returning to set has been validating, if awkward at times. Yes, people accidentally use the wrong pronouns—“It’s going to be an adjustment,” Page says—but co-workers also see and acknowledge him.

The debate over whether cisgender people, who have repeatedly collected awards for playing trans characters, should continue to do so has largely been settled. However, trans actors have rarely been considered for cisgender parts. Whatever challenges might lie ahead, Page seems exuberant about playing a new spectrum of roles. “I’m really excited to act, now that I’m fully who I am, in this body,” Page says. “No matter the challenges and difficult moments of this, nothing amounts to getting to feel how I feel now.”

This includes having short hair again. During our interview, Page keeps rearranging strands on his forehead. It took a long time for him to return to the barber’s chair and ask to cut it short, but he got there. And how did that haircut feel?

Page tears up again, then smiles. “I just could not have enjoyed it more,” he says.”

[littlefreya]

Henry's reaction to finding out GF's house is haunted.

Summary: Henry’s friend invites him over to watch a horror film on Halloween, problem is he is madly in love with her.

Pairings: Henry Cavill x Unamed OFC (3rd person, no description)

Warnings: RPF, fluff, romantic goo, friends to lovers or rather idiots to lovers, brief mentions of alcohol and Henry’s green hoodie p0rn.  

Words: 1.6K

A/N: So I had to take it to the “friends to lovers” lane, also I will need all the fluff after what I am about to post tomorrow :|! Divider by @firefly-graphics. Beta’d by my beautiful @agniavateira​ . Also FYI my house is totally haunted.

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed. 

Haunted Houses

All Hallow's Eve was Henry’s favourite time of the year. The spicy autumn air was thickly shrouded by magic. Spooky tales and plastic spiders inhabited drapes of thin cotton tendrils and fat pumpkins carved with scary faces would sit on his doorstep to welcome him home or bid him farewell on his way out. 

Per tradition, he would rally close friends at midnight for a horror flick and pineapple-anchovy pizza; often a bottle of rum would be added to the party. However, this Halloween fell on a bittersweet period, as his friends grew too old for said spooky gatherings. Starting new families of their own, they had no time to indulge him.

All save for her, who just like him was still somehow single. 

How bad would it be to spend the evening just the two of them... alone? Ignoring the fact that it was enough to see her name flicker on the screen of his phone for pure warmth to enkindle in his chest. He thought about her often before he fell asleep and when he woke up; and by often, he meant every single day since he met her.

Though she didn’t think much of him as anything other than a friend she loved to banter with - he presumed. And of course she loved Kal, possibly more than she cared for him. Yet, Henry did what he did best: bury his emotions into a little pit he dug in the graveyard of his mind. 

"Heh!” Henry croaked as the door opened. His sapphires ensnared the veils of black that cloaked her, preserving the sight of silk laces tied tightly at her torso in what seemed like a gothic medieval gown. 

“I see you took off your costume for the evening." 

She narrowed her eyes but only to observe his attire carefully: that same green hoodie and a pair of worn jeans that complimented his… asset. 

She wanted to etch her fingers around the thick fabric and have a whiff of this hoodie, or perhaps just steal it and wear it forever and a day.

"First of all, it is called The Witching Hour so I must dress properly. Secondly - where is your costume, Cavill?" she crossed her arms together, looking rather displeased. 

“I’m dressed as a homicidal maniac, we look like everybody else does.” 

Snorting, she tilted her head, unimpressed. “You totally just stole this joke from Wednesday Addams.” 

Henry shrugged and pressed his lips to a thin line. One of his foolish expressive gestures. It made her feel less nervous to which she was thankful. When she suggested they’d hang out despite them being the only two, she didn’t think much of the consequences of being all alone with the man who inhabited her mind and never paid rent. Everything about Henry made her feverish, but it was always easy when others accompanied them. The awkward anxiety of having to entertain him wasn’t her job, not up till now… 

Oh, god! What if they had nothing to talk about? What if their playful chemistry was always influenced by the presence of other people?

Beads of sweat began to form below her breasts when Henry shoved a bottle of rum into her hand and then leaned in to steal a casual kiss from her cheek. She smiled with a friendly huff in return, stifling the shiver that coursed through her muscles while he welcomed himself into her home. 

Striding forward, he peered at the Halloween decorations she hung across the walls and inhaled deeply - the scent of maple and buttery chestnuts filled the cosy little house, a scent that he could easily get intoxicated with. 

It was what she smelled like and here he was, drowning in its excess.

After a quick observation, he turned to look at her, holding his hands clasped behind his back. She smiled awkwardly in return and then averted her gaze, becoming fascinated by the bottle he brought.

‘There it is,’ Henry mused, ‘that embarrassing silence, there is so much to tell her, but she probably… no! She definitely finds me boring.’

This Halloween celebration would probably be the last and it was all sorts of disastrous. 

Trying to overcome the silence, he cleared his throat and reached a hand to scratch his curly mane. “So what movie are we watching?”

“Movie?” she asked confused and then quickly corrected, “Oh yes, umm... The Exorcist.” 

“Good, love me some green vomit.” his eyes followed carefully as she waltzed into the small open kitchen, placing the rum on the counter and then returning with a large bowl that made his nostrils flare.

“Green vomit goes extremely well with caramelised popcorn,” she suggested and popped a golden flake of popcorn into her mouth. 

“Sweet-salty popcorn? I love you!” Henry groaned and snatched the bowl right away. It was only when his mouth was stuffed that he realised what words he just used. 

But she didn’t seem to react, thankfully. Instead, she brushed a hand over her many skirts and pointed toward the living room.

Hugging the bowl, Henry strode behind her, entering the dimly lit living room. The traditional pizza was already laid on the wooden coffee table, along with a few bottles of Guinness. 

Her couch was small, only fit for a couple. And Henry, being a hulking man, took most of the space. Their thighs immediately ground into one another’s, yet they both pretended as if they hadn't noticed the hot tingle running beneath the layers of clothing. 

“I have to warn you about something,” she uttered, hoping that the tremor she suddenly felt in her body was not visible to him. 

Henry crooked his eyebrow, looking at the ominous glare she offered.

“My house is totally haunted.”  

Not waiting for his answer, she grabbed the remote and pressed play. Henry chuckled at her silly joke, waiting for her to break character but she only peered at the screen.

“Nice try, I am not scared of that stuff.” He shifted in his seat slightly, lifting his lengthy arm and spreading it on the headrest right behind her. Immediately, he regretted this semi-possessive masculine gesture, but it was too late to pull it away. 

Her instincts screamed to snuggle into him yet she held back. “Don’t believe me, but I am not making this up,” she insisted, “Every night around 3 am, I hear scratching from within the walls and these thuds from the ceiling, and then one night… I woke up the door creaking.”

Henry glanced at her quietly for a long moment, watching the reflection from the screen gyrating over her glossy irises and then snorted. He leaned toward the coffee table and grabbed two beers, uncorking them with the help of his pinky ring and then offering her one of the bottles. 

“I think you have rats.”

“Rats who make heavy thuds and open bedroom doors?”

“Yup, a big fat randy rat.” he teased. “We’ll take a look at your bedroom later, but I promise you, there are no such things as ghosts.”

‘We’ll take a look in your bedroom? Great…’ He berated himself. At this point, he just wanted to sigh and shake his head. 

She peered at him oddly, her throat clenching a tad before she turned her head back to the movie with a mumble, “It’s not a ghost, it’s a demon.” 

Within a few minutes they grew quiet, deciding to focus on the movie with the occasional dry jokes and bad puns from Henry as an attempt to overcome his anxiety. Outside the window, thunder rumbled in the distance and shy raindrops lightly kissed the glass, tinted with the many vague shades of lights coming from the street. 

Now and then, Henry shifted in his seat, his meaty thigh further grinding into her leg which stirred her blood to the point of electric spasms. She lightly pushed against him, pretending it’s by accident when truthfully, she wanted to exploit every second of being in his proximity. Had she any guts, she would turn to kiss him, but the thought alone made her heart clench in fear.

She threw him a glance, and their eyes met. Henry offered a kind grin, avoiding staring at her lips. She smiled back coyly, her heartbeat accelerating with anticipation when the possessed girl in the movie made a horrifying groan that ruined the moment. 

And then the room suddenly was swallowed in darkness, followed by a strong clap of thunder that tore open the sky.  

In the scant moment of chaos, he heard a scream and then the light came back as if nothing happened, aside from the fact that she was now in his arms, with her legs straddling his waist, and her fingers clutching the collar of his hoodie. 

Henry was unsure how and when his hand found itself latched to the small of her back, only that he didn’t want to let go. They exchanged bemused glances and swallowed the dryness parching their throats.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered hoarsely, “I got scared…”

Embarrassed to the point of tears, she attempted to climb off, wanting nothing more than to run to the bathroom and cry in hiding, when Henry sent a hand to stroke her temple and gently brushed his fingers behind her ear.

“Stay,” he insisted, squeezing into her lower back as if to prevent her from escaping. 

Her lips parted slowly, the same golden hue that suffused the living room split into her eyes, beaming even brighter as he continued to caress her face before bringing her closer to graze her lips with his.

Halloween was, without a doubt, his favourite. 

Tagging: @the-soot-sprite​ @henrythickcavill​ because they asked to be tagged in these. <3