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mrpenguinpants · 2 years ago

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Overdue Bills

— He knows your fake relationship with him was made purely for beneficial reasons. After everything was said and done, you both went your separate ways. So why does he keep coming back to you?

— Alhaitham, Ayato, and Kazuha

-> Part 1: Please go out with me for tax benefits! -> Not connected but can also be read: I refuse to fall in love out of spite [ TBA ] [Masterlist]

Does this feel rushed because it is. I assumed everyone wanted a continuation but I plan on writing another fic using the original prompt but for different characters. The titles have nothing to do with the fics but I really wanted to title this, we've been trying to reach you about your car's extended warranty.

Alhaitham

There's only so much Kaveh can handle before he hits a breaking point and this might be it. A few months ago he overheard the librarian ask a stranger how their boyfriend Alhaitham was doing, to which he nearly broke his neck in how fast he turned. From the long pause and the plain answer of, "he's fine", which Alhaitham most definitely isn't given how much work the sages are dumping onto their scribe, Kaveh came to the conclusion that you're another creepy admirer or an attention-seeking leech. While Kaveh wouldn't call Alhaitham something as close as a friend, the man at least deserved to know there was another deranged person spreading lies. He assumed Alhaitham would confront you, knock some sense into you, and that would be the end of it. But because Alhaitham operates on a level that's incomprehensible to Kaveh, instead you've both entered into a fake dating relationship that he honestly believes is a horrible idea. But Alhaitham is his roommate, not his friend, and he doesn't have the time or care to facilitate a non-existent love life. But lo and behold the next time he sees you, there's a silver-haired man is hovering nearby looking at you with the closest thing to love his stoic face can make. Things are only weirder when Kaveh brings the sight up to you, saying that you're both taking this fake dating in stride and he's honestly impressed at how Alhaitham really put his all into this performance. Only for you to look at him as if he's grown two heads. You and Alhaitham stopped dating weeks ago.

Alhaitham isn't stupid. There's only so much rationalization he can turn to and so many excuses he can make but at the end of the day, he has to admit that he never works better than he does sitting beside you. At first, he reasoned that it was because people didn't bother him as much and you knew how to be quiet. Perhaps that's why you've skyrocketed in his requirements of friendship despite the fact that you both weren't really friends. But then he couldn't sit alone without getting restless. There’s an empty space beside him that constantly makes itself aware in his subconscious. One that screams at him that he wants you to be there, not just because you can scare people away.

It's a slow realization from there starting with him comparing you and Kaveh. For as much as he and his senior argue back and forth almost every time they meet, Alhaitham considers Kaveh an excellent mirror to him that can push his thoughts to go further. But you're different. That realization turns into contemplation when you actually listen and take his advice. Every scholar is egotistical to some degree, there's a lot of pride to take into your research, and having your weeks of hard work be written off by a blunt statement gets people angry. Alhaitham would be the first to know, he's been on the receiving end of that anger multiple times. Yet when he points out a section in your thesis to be incorrect, you simply tilt your head thinking before agreeing he was right. Crumbling your paper, ready to start all over again without any fuss. Still water versus the wave that Kaveh is. While some would call that boring, he finds it charming.

The nail in the coffin is when he catches himself labeling the chair next to him as yours. He can't justify that one and he's suddenly confronted that he severely underestimated how much he's grown to like you. He originally agreed to the idea to keep his comfortable routine without any interruptions and your introduction would fix his issue of suitors but you've played your part so perfectly that he fell for it. He was tempted to stop talking to you altogether, cutting the deal off entirely and never speaking to you again. But you're not a saint and just as he realized his feelings, your thesis was done and you left abruptly before he had any time to prepare. A glaring empty spot mocking him. Only to come back with your stacks of books and a nervous smile that Alhaitham refuses to acknowledge makes his heart beat just the slightest bit quicker.

He knows you can hear the whispers that you and Alhaitham have gotten back together. Yet you haven't said anything and he politely chooses to not say anything either. The rumors certainly haven't stopped you from acting differently and he doesn't know if that's a good thing. He knows your language is touch but now he wants to be the one near you this time. That way the first person you’ll speak to is him. By now he’s fully aware of his feelings and how far they’ve developed for him to actually start feeling possessive. So the next time you lean against him to show him a particular paragraph of a book, he wraps a hand around your waist, disguising it as him shifting you to the side so he can get a better angle to read. Under his hand, he can feel how tense you become at the casual touch, how your eyes jump from him to the floor, before relaxing and continuing on.

In hindsight, he knows by all rational reasoning he should just confess to you and get it over and done with. But there's something exciting in the way you look at him with calculating eyes that he stares back at unflinching. He thinks of it as payback for you strolling into his carefully planned life and making a mess. He’s simply allowing himself to indulge in it. Now every time you greet him with a wave, he offers a smile. When you want to drag him somewhere by the cape, he slips his hand into yours stating you'll stretch the fabric too much. And when you need to whisper something in his ear? He'll practically be in your lap with how close he leans in even if there's no one else in the room. He knows eventually you'll catch on to what he's trying to do, what he's trying to say. You've been practicing for months sitting beside him. It's finally when he invites you to the pavilion that he can see the realization on your face that Alhaitham clearly doesn't consider you just a friend. The look of bewilderment goes back and forth with suspicion before finally settling into an amused huff with the smallest of smiles.

It's late enough into the day that he knows the only people lingering in the Akademiya are either passed-out students or scholars too wrapped up in their work. All consideration he's taken to make sure you're both uninterrupted for this moment. And what a moment it is. The pavilion itself is beautiful with its blue and green stained glass windows that reflect the evening sun. The yellow flowers swaying gently in the breeze add just enough color to not be irritating. Kaveh might need to retract his statement that Alhaitham doesn't know a thing about romance because it's painfully obvious what's about to happen.

"Any more and people might get the wrong idea you know," you say as you lean against the white wall. The look of confusion is gone from your eyes, replaced with mirth. It does not make him shudder.

"About what? The library is cramped with people and the pavilion is quiet," he says like it's an off-handed comment before turning around, leaning his weight against his elbows on the railing as he turns to the side to look at the view this specific pavilion provides. "Although I can understand where you might have drawn that conclusion. I can assure you nothing like that will happen. You're not my type."

He can physically feel you bristle even though he isn't looking at you before your footsteps come closer and closer until your form is right in front of him. He still refuses to look at you but he can tell the moment you see his poorly hidden smile. He hears you let out an amused huff before you bring your hands up and settle them against the railing as well. Only you've decided to cage him in between your arms and it makes him turn to you, raising a brow. He's already lost the moment he turned but the cheeky grin you have is worth it. You look really cute when you're smug.

"If I had any interest, it would have died a long time ago. You're the worst fake boyfriend I've ever had so I can't imagine how insufferable you'll be as a real one," you shake your head exasperated but there's a small entertained look that tugs at his heart. That you know what he knows and he knows what you know. A similar feeling of understanding that he's gotten so used to. One that lets him act in such an irrational way.

"You've had others?" he asks as his arm comes off the railing to settle around your waist. You don't push him away, easily following along.

"For such a pretty face you have such an awful personality," you sigh disappointed yet the arms that cage him move to settle around his neck, twirling the silver hair at the base of his neck as you lean closer until there isn't space between the two of you.

"Oh? So you think I'm pretty?" He tilts his chin slightly down, his lips brushing against yours.

"You must have selective hearing." With your faces so close, he can see the excitement in your eyes. He's sure that he is the same. So he ignores the pleased look on your face and leans in.

Ayato

Ultimately, he's just a passerby. He decided on a whim to go along with some absurd act because he thought the sheer dread and embarrassment on your face was amusing and he wanted to see more. By all accounts, your temporary date wasn't too bad. It felt a bit refreshing being with someone that looked like they rather throw themselves in the nearby sea than stand next to the refined Yashiro Commissioner. But otherwise, that's the end of your relationship. With a few words here and there, he managed to spin the absurd story into his favor and reign in the disaster your little stunt might have caused. He's grateful that you so easily play along with him. Not a single complaint about how he lies through his teeth that someone was bothering you so he extended his help so this individual would leave you alone. It makes both of you, mostly him, look good. How people rush to make sure you're okay while your expression flickers between guilt and embarrassment is far more entertaining than anything he originally planned during this outing. But at the end of the day, you have nothing to do with each other and he owes you nothing. Your presence is ultimately inconsequential in the stream that is his life. That is until one day your relationship changes to stupidity and heartfelt sincerity.

It starts off as a joke. Ayato tends to latch onto small things that give him a momentary break from his busy and stressed lifestyle and duties. Plus there's something lighthearted about this situation that he doesn't want to let go of just yet. Unfortunately for you, Ayato's newfound joy is sneaking up on you and sending you into an early grave. The first time it was an accident, you just happened to be easily jumpy, but the second time though? The resounding screech of terror never fails to make a smile appear on his face and you're convinced that he's a sadist. He doesn't even have to try that hard, his steps are silent even against the crooked stone path that he can waltz up right behind you. But his absolute favourite part is bending down and whispering what exactly his fiancee is so interested in. It always leads to embarrassing talks of you politely asking him to not refer to you with that title anymore that he swiftly blocks by mentioning that, wasn't it you who called him your fiancee first? You should take responsibility.

He thinks your reactions are cute even if you're a bit vulgar in language, although to him that just adds to the warped sense of charm he finds in you. Thoma nearly chokes on his own spit when Ayato perks up at something behind him, suddenly dropping the calm facade of the Yashiro Commissioner and something more genuine before calling out to a "fiancee". Thoma whips around to see a stranger speaking with Yoimiya before their eyes lift and lock with Ayato's and their expression immediately sour. He doesn't think he's ever seen anyone show such a disgusted expression and he can't help but wonder what his lord has done this time. Before Thoma can say anything the stranger picks up a firework ball and hurls it at his Lord who easily sidesteps the attack, the resounding death threats only making the blue-haired man laugh.

It's fun. You're fun to be around. The entire situation is silly and ridiculous and it feels nice. Ayato had to grow up too fast, become an adult too fast, and shoulder the burden meant for later years. Something as small as a nickname, an inside joke, something he can bring up to spite someone just for the fun of it is nice. Perhaps that's why he refuses to let go and finds himself returning to you.

It's all a joke. There's no way Ayato can actually take your hand in marriage. Not with your differences in status. You think that's the only reason people entertain the idea, why he even entertains the idea. To get a reaction out of you that he can relentlessly tease and it's all so stupid. That is until he receives a different reaction that leaves him lost and confused.

You stumble upon him in the aftermath of another one of his assassination attempts. He was perfectly fine, not even a speck of dust on his white coat yet you were nearly in hysteria. Panicked hiccups as you sob uncontrollably into his chest, your tears doing far more damage to dirtying his clothes than an attempt on his life. He tries his best to console you but you can't seem to stop the tears and as much as he values staying dignified, he's almost at his limit. Hand already poised to yank you off until he falters in both mind and body when you suddenly turn your head up and he sees the expression that you hid away in the lapels of his coat. The feeling of the annoyance of having to wash his coat flew out of his mind at the sight of your teary eyes and downturned lips. A small, very small, part of his heart beats just a bit faster. An even smaller part that was buried under the title of Yashiro Commissioner perks its head over someone who was crying for him. Even though you've both talked multiple times, you and he aren't close enough to be considered friends, at least in his eyes. Yet you're currently looking at him as if you're the one that's been attacked because of the simple fact that he could have been hurt. It's...strange.

He doesn't say anything as you usher him into your home to fix up whatever injuries you happened to have conjured in your mind. He's never stepped foot into your residence and he's honestly glad he hasn't because your home is...disheartening, to say the least. He thinks the estate has more life than what was supposedly something you called home. It's not that your place is poor, you're not sleeping on a slab of rock, but it's empty. Like you don't have anything at all. The only thing you seem to carry is your small pile of books. Worn but well taken care of. So he doesn't say anything as you fuss over him, doesn't say anything about the horrendous first aid kit you bring, and bids you farewell at the door of your home. You smile at him widely and tell him to take care of himself. But when he turns to leave, he risks one last peek at you, just in time to see you close your door. You aren't smiling anymore. He stops walking.

It starts to escalate from there. The following months of sudden change are so abrupt that he has no choice but to follow along. He wants to see every expression you have. If that isn't enough, he'll find new ones for you to make.

Ayato's first impression of you is charming but in a pitiful sort of way. You have to be an airhead, you must be considering your shared first meeting. How you didn't realize your mistake and went along with everything is beyond Ayato. You and Itto are almost on the same level of denseness but while Itto does everything with blind confidence that the situation has changed because of him, you are the opposite. Wandering into your own mess as you ignore all the warning signs until it's too late. But you're also honest and upfront, two traits that Ayato has come to value immensely. He finds you endearing, so much that it's starting to overfill his teacup. So with a silent smile, he asks a question.

"Why don't you become my fiancee?"

The noodle slips between your chopsticks, a loud unflattering splat against the table echoing through the silence as you stare at him slack-jawed. He begins to worry that he's accidentally sent you into a stroke because one of your eyes starts twitching.

"Huh? Are you being for real?" you ask deadpanned. He can't help but chuckle under his fingers before resting his chin on the palm of his hand. It feels nice to be able to rest his elbows against the table without someone reprimanding him for his lack of manners. He finds your dry reaction far cuter than the blushes and swoons from the ladies that the elders forced him to take out.

"Be my fiancee." he pauses before continuing as an afterthought. "For real this time."

You pick up your fallen noodle, chew, swallow, and then point your chopsticks at him. Not convinced in the slightest. "Even if you haven't picked out a fiancee you shouldn't joke about that."

"Really?" he fakes surprise, "Then how come you're on a date with me right now?"

You choke. He pushes his teacup towards you, who takes it and gulps down half of its contents in one go. The glass clinks loudly on the table when you put it down yet it doesn't distract him from the sheer disbelief on your face as your ears grow red. He thinks out of all of the expressions you've given him, he likes this one the most.

"This isn't-It's not," you attempt to say, spluttering the entire time that remnants of the tea you just drank wet your lips.

"Yes, it is. Why? Is it bad? Do you know enjoy being taken out to dinner? I can easily arrange for something else instead," He reached over with a napkin to wipe your face. It only serves to make you more embarrassed that he's treating you like a child as you push his hand away lest you combust on the spot. There's no immediate answer. He can't tell whether you're actually considering his offer, or if you're refraining from throwing your chopsticks at him.

"No thanks. If I've learned anything it's that you'll only torment me until I die. I'm starting to think I like you even less," you grumble, shoving more noodles into your mouth.

Ayato is a strange man so he doesn't wait for the water to spill, just tips the cup over and starts again. This time he waits for you to swallow before saying anything, he doesn't want you to choke again.

"That's unfortunate. I adore you, you know."

Kazuha

While his feelings and words were true, he resigns himself to the fact that your relationship was a one-and-done situation. Impulsiveness isn't one of his qualities but as he reflects on his time with you, he gets a bit flustered at how hard he fell. He had just met you and yet within the span of a couple weeks, you managed to fill out the empty parts of his heart. He tries to rationalize that it was just the timing. He had been on the run for so long, his thoughts always chained around Inazuma, and upholding his promise to his friend. But then you happened to crash into his life, quite literally, and everything slowed to a stop at that moment. Originally it was just to protect you from a clingy admirer but then you started asking about him. What his hobbies were, what kind of dreams he had, and whether or not he would like to learn how to fly. Every day and night sitting beside you on the crow's nest, the gentle sway of the waters rocking the boat, and the backdrop of noise down on the deck was the most serene Kazuha has ever felt since he left Inazuma. But all things must come to an end eventually and even though Kazuha knows that this might be the end, you look so hopefully at him that he can't help but try to push the end to tomorrow. He just needs to garner the strength to move.

Beidou asks if he's sure about his decision to leave the Crux and wander on his own. It's not nice to make you wait even though she knows you and when you say you'll wait, you're going to damn wait no matter how long it takes. But he reassures her that he's still not ready. As much as he wants to run over the water back to Liyue, he doesn't want to bring along conflicted and aimless feelings. But he will hurry, he's been running for so long, he can run a little further for something and someone for himself. It's a bit selfish but Beidou gives him an exasperated soft smile that lets him know it's not a bad thing. Although with each passing day Beidou's ship ports, it gets harder and harder for her to break the news that Kazuha is still not back. Beidou does her best to reassure you that Kazuha isn't stringing you along, she would have drowned him in the ocean if he was that low of a guy, but she can tell that with each visit your expression grows more and more distant. Watching how you're the first one to rush down the wooden bridges with a hopeful expression that one-day Kazuha might be there only to leave with a sad smile. It makes her want to track her problem child down and bring him back to you. Not that she has any idea where he wandered too.

He ends up in the forests of Sumeru. His keen sense of smell aids him as he treks through the wilderness until he meets a strange forest watcher and a girl in green. Their a bit of an odd pair but so is Kazuha and they become fast friends. Apparently, his calm demeanor is a breath of fresh air and it's enough that they don't pry into his history. Although there are moments when he can feel their eyes on him. Perhaps living in the forest has led them both to be aware of subtle changes far better than Kazuha can smell. It starts when they trek towards the small lakes and waterbeds to gather niloptala lotus for Tighnari that he sees it. An anemone flower. Soft white petals with a dark blue center sway in the breeze as he stands watching it move. It's Collei who approaches him and explains white anemone flowers, also known as windflowers, symbolize sincerity due to their delicate appearance. According to mythology, the anemone flower was created when Aphrodite's mortal lover, Adonis, was killed and from the spot where her tears fell to the ground, an anemone emerged. She says that he might enjoy that last bit of information to use as inspiration for his many haiku poems because he's looking at the flower as if he's fallen in love. Although she warns him that when fresh, all parts are poisonous.

When Inazuma finally calmed down and Thoma informed him that he was no longer a wanted man, it was the second time Kazuha could take a deep breath and relax. He was free from running and could focus on the future. He won't lie and say that his thoughts didn't stray back to you every night. He's been gone for months and he wonders if you still remember what he looks like. But now he has to ask himself the hard question if he's ready to see you. Unfortunately, he doesn't get to make that choice.

He sees you at Port Ormos by chance, speaking to a silver-haired man before you cut yourself off mid-sentence as your eyes lock onto his. Even with everything Kazuha has been through, he feels scared. He knew he would eventually return to you but now that you're here, is he not ready? Or is he scared? He knew that asking for you to wait was selfish, that one day he may return with your hand in someone else's. Maybe that's why you're all the way in Sumeru rather than the high mountains of Liyue. All these emotions reflect back to you and he can see it, your fists are trembling even as you gaze back at him with conviction and determination. The sun shines right behind you, creating a gold halo over your tousled hair. But it makes the shadows of your strained expression darker, your eyes gloss over your jaw tense, and everything about your posture screams please don't disappoint me Kazuha. Then it's gone. Your attention back to the silver hair man, pretending as if nothing happened. You'll wait until he's ready but you won't acknowledge him when he's not. And Kazuha. Kazuha runs away.

"There you are."

Kazuha looks up to see Tighnari sitting at the table facing the entrance that Kazuha has stumbled through. It's late into the night and because his heart has more room to bear, he feels guilty that Tighnari stayed up to make sure he returned. Before he can apologize Tighnari raises a hand to stop him, sighing before he gestures Kazuha to sit down. Fiddling with his pouch he takes something and slides it across to Kazuha. An Inazuma charm. The same one you gave him when he left.

"You dropped it when you were running through Port Ormos like you had stolen something. I had to convince Cyno that you weren't a thief but you're going to have to apologize to Collei for scaring her like that," he huffs as he settles back into his seat, watching at how Kazuha raises a wary hand to pick up the charm like it'll break under the slightest pressure. It makes Tighnari soften around the edges, the worried lines of his face smoothing out as he rests a hand on the samurai's shoulder. "Are you okay Kazuha?"

It only serves to bring a pained smile to the man's face, shaking his head. No. No, he's not alright. He hasn't felt "alright" in months. He's lived his life thinking that as long as his blade was by his side, he could continue moving. But now it feels like he's slowly dying. Poisoned from the core. He thought he would be able to approach this like he had always been. That he thought he understood what he was doing and trusted the wind to guide him. But now he's confronted with his accountability and he doesn't know what to do but run. Back into the silence of the forest until he can't run any further. Collapsing onto the cold ground as he heaves for another breath. Every moment up until now replays in his head, becoming more vivid no matter how long it's been until he can smell your fragrance. It was a similar feeling to when he lost his friend, this lingering pain. It's why he decided he needed to leave first. He always assumed he remembered because of guilt. Guilt that he asked you to wait, guilt that he wasn't the one that was ready, and guilt that even after all this time he hasn't entered the border of Liyue. Yet no matter how long he goes, this feeling of guilt only remains for you until he doesn't know if that's the correct emotion. If what remains in his heart truly isn't guilt, what is this emotion that keeps him looking back at his memories of you? He doesn't know. It's his first time feeling this way.

"You're in love Kazuha. That's it."

---

There's a sudden ruckus on the ship deck that has Beidou draw her head up, her letter to Ningguang momentarily paused as she listens carefully to what her crew is so noisy about. Their voices are muffled through the thick wooden walls of her office but it doesn't sound like they're in any danger. Either way as the Captain she should check out what everyone is so excited about. She shoulders her fur-lined shawl back on and slams the doors open.

"What's got you all so- Kazuha?!" Beidou nearly chokes midsentence to see her sentence when he spots that familiar white and red hair. Even though it's only been a few months, he looks so much older than she remembers. When he said he wanted to do some soul searching, she didn't think it would make him look so...mature. It's not that his outward appearance is any different, he's still got that adorable baby face, but the air around him is tranquil rather than still.

"Captain, it's good to see you again," Kazuha smiles and gives a small wave. His hand is free of bandages letting her see the electro burns that scar his skin. She politely doesn't let her eyes linger on them for long, that's all in the past anyways. So she grins ear to ear and yanks the poor man into a headlock and a giant slap on the back. Her official way her welcome a trusty companion back.

"About time lover boy, let's get you home."

---

Not me throwing canon personalities and good characterization out the window to push my smitten agenda.

[taglist] <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@genshins1mpact @creatorofstars @xoneaboveallx @timmyitsmeeee @raingoesboomboom @duhsies @thegayrubberducky @isa-solasun @afoxesgreed @yuuki4646 @angel-luv-04 @inlovewithwaffles @maddymints09 @moonssandstars

@tigerpriestess @endurablerose @ayakohana

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anthurak · 5 months ago

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Okay so rewatching The Full Moon with the context of Apology Tour made me realize something VERY interesting about how Stolitz could actually be different from all the other relationships Blitzo has been in and burned down.

Consider what we hear from Verosika in Apology Tour: that she told Blitzo that she loved him, and this confession was what prompted Blitzo to completely nuke their relationship, to 'send a message in the shittiest way possible' as Versoika put it.

And you know that does actually line up with what we see in The Full Moon, ie; Stolas ALSO confessing his love for Blitzo. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if what we saw in that scene, specifically Stolas' confession and Blitzo's initial reaction to it, is how many if not most of Blitzo's breakups have played out. Certainly the really BAD ones: Blitzo's partner makes some admission or confession of genuine affection and love, only for Blitzo to believe they can't possibly be serious and proceeds to mock and belittle their feelings, just like we saw him do with Stolas.

But here's the thing: A lot of people have pointed out that Stolas handled Blitzo's response to his confession in kind of the worst way possible; immediately assuming that Blitzo really didn't care and shutting him out entirely without trying to clarify things to Blitzo or otherwise give him time to process.

So, what if Verosika and really most if not all of Blitzo's other ex's actually handled things better than Stolas? What if she/they actually DID try to explain their feelings and make it clear they really DO care?

Well, given what we've seen, it probably did NOT end well. As in, Blitzo's self-loathing and belief that no one could possibly love him are so DEEPLY ingrained and internalized that the more someone tries to convince him they really DO care has likely only caused him to double, triple, quadruple and QUINTUPLE down until he's trashing his partner's hotel room, stealing her care, maxing her credits cards and whatever else Blitzo has done to the DOZENS of people who tried to convince him that they cared.

Until Stolas.

Have you noticed the twist yet? :D

Stolas DIDN'T try to convince Blitzo he really did care. Instead, he took Blitzo's response as proof that Blitzo didn't care and proceeded to shut things down and walk away.

(Part of) What makes Stolas so different is that he unwittingly BEAT BLITZO TO THE PUNCH. He effectively nuked their relationship BEFORE Blitzo could.

And for Blitzo, this has NEVER HAPPENED BEFORE.

HE'S always been the one to walk away first. HE'S always been the one to end things. Every relationship he's been in has ended on HIS terms.

Until now.

For the first time, Blitzo just happened to be with someone who is JUST as shitty at relationships as HE is XD

#helluva boss #helluva boss rambling #helluva boss analysis #helluva blitzo #stolas goetia #stolitz #what makes stolitz so special is that they're BOTH shitty complete fucking messes #blitzo and stolas really have the scott pilgrim and ramona flowers vibes of 'turns out they're BOTH shitty people'

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melodic-haze · 5 months ago

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Hmm i just had a thought about the recent fic w Arlecchino

What if she had a muzzle on w bunny suit🧐

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Arlecchino x dom!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Breeding, size kink, reader has a cock/strap referred to as such

☆ — NOTES: I'm ngl it's been several Arle fics now that idk which one you were on ab but it's okay gwenchana. Anyway you lot really want to breed her huh (same though)

Good luck convincing Arlecchino to wear a bunny suit actually HAHAHA

She'd do anything for you, really she will!!!! She's so dedicated to you—worshipping you in the same way a diety was meant to be worshipped—that it's actually scary for the both of you, how much of a hold you have on her. But she has some reservations about such a risqué bit of clothing 💀

Not like you blame her though, considering how it wasn't usually her style. Lucky for you, however, YOU get special treatment :3 all it takes is one look at the outfit, one look at her and some time and voila!!! She'll concede—hell, she might even surprise you :3

"You're.. you're sure, right? I know you were kinda against it at first—I feel bad if I ended up forcing you into something you-- mm."

A finger was on your lips, the gesture's message quite clear as your beloved spoke amidst your commanded silence, "I'm sure, yes. I admit I am.. apprehensive, but your longing gaze is more than enough to convince me to, ah.. experiment."

"Really..?"

"Yes. You do not take me for my word?"

"No, I do! It's just..." You huffed out a sigh as you gently took the hand on your lip and took it in your own, "I just don't want you to feel as if you were obligated to entertain my every whim."

You see her eyes soften at your concern and she squeezes your hand as a form of reassurance from your often-so-stoic lover, "You should know better than to believe I would ever compromise my own comfort for something like this."

"And besides," she continues, "surprisingly, I've come to enjoy being.. well, your prey of sorts. Perhaps the outfit may elevate the interest to another level, hm?"

You couldn't help but stare at her, boldness practically radiating off of your lover despite the position you both know she truly holds within the privacy of your bedroom walls. Such boldness prompted an imagined flash of images in your mind—blackened hands all tied up, drool escaping her lips within confining barriers, tears escaping as sinful noises of wet skin-to-skin impact echo along with her moans—and you feel something akin to a hot flash within your core.

Ever so observant, her eyes go half-lidded as she looks up at you, her grin a touch sharper than before, "I see that I have awakened your imagination."

"Maybe."

"You need not imagine it, my beloved." Her voice reduces itself to something of a low purr, "All you need to do is command me, and I will do whatever you wish."

"That's a dangerous promise to make."

"Coming from a dangerous woman such as I, I dare say it balances the scales."

I love dialogue lol anyway tell her to do so and she will do it ☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️ and next thing you know you're facing a woman much shorter than you've always known her to be, clad in such a revealing outfit and a muzzle to prevent her from biting so much. She had 'protested' against the latter at first, but you both know from the way that she so very easily accepted such a thing that she was all for the extra torture, not being able to make a mark on you (she forgets that her nails'll probably do the job for her anyway LMAO)

When she's laid out 'helplessly' on the bed as you tower over her, when you put your hand on the flat of her stomach and the both of you see the clear size difference, when you look at her and see so much anticipation and carnal lust practically glazing her eyes? Oh god the both of you KNOW you're not going out this room for a WHILE

She is COMPLETELY at your mercy—you can toy with her all you want, alternating between overstimulation and edging her with whatever is at your disposal until she can't take it anymore so she has to actually beg you to fuck her dumb and reduce all trains of thought into mush. She considers begging as below her, and yet she can't help but let out these reluctant pleas that only seem to gain a more.......willing quality with them in due time. Just make sure to torture her until her composure snaps, giving her her own sort of medicine and having her experience her very own mindbreak through overwhelming pleasure

To see this woman, who is so utterly feared to the point where crowds would part for her in fear that she would plunge her blackened hands into their chest and staining them red, cling to you and hump your cock like a bitch in heat is such a harrowing contrast.......but there is certainly that feeling of something more

Perhaps it's the fact that there was the urge to pin her down into a mating press and stuff her silly until she gets kids on her own ☺️ seeing her take all these children in at the Hearth and not having any herself.....why, for some reason you found yourself feeling like you just had to give her some children of her own. She seems to adore them, so whyever not ☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️

Even as dazed-out as she is, she can see something change inside you as your objective goes from fucking her silly to something a lot more feral. Doesn't necessarily help that, yk, you have her in a bunny suit. And yk how bunnies just love to breed

As much as Arlecchino had tried to tell you to slow down for a brief moment, it's as if all noise has been blocked out from your senses, save for the sounds your lover makes and the sinfully wet noises that are produced as you piston into her again and again and again and again.

You roughly pushed her down into the matress, now damp and messy from a mixture of your bodily fluids, as you made sure to bottom out inside her as quickly as you drew back—the harsh assault on her hole had hit spots within her she didn't even realise you could hit, not to mention the force of your movements being more than enough to easily stretch her out and mold her insides to fit you and only you.

It was obvious that there was no way any mercy was going to be given to her. The Harbinger could only lay there and take everything you give her like some kind of fleshlight, the 'fight' within her long gone (if she even had some left in her to begin with).

God I need to separate these bc I can't just choose one thank yew bc both are very very very VERY good

If you had a dick:

You were so utterly determined to fill her and making sure your seed takes by the end of your session. If it meant basting her insides with white-hot cum and having it all stuffed inside her to the point where it has no where to go but out by force, then you'll cum inside her over and over again until you can't anymore.

And when your hand goes to press down on her abdomen, you can see the mixture of cum inside her practically spray out at the edges. She can't take it anymore, even she says so, and yet you can't help but wonder just why is her pussy still milking you as if her life depended on it?

Because she's greedy.

Because right now, no longer was she Arlecchino—she was your very own rabbit, hungry for your potent seed.

If you're using a strap:

You know of your limitations—without anything extra such as magical means, you cannot actually have her bare your children. But whyever would you let that stop you, especially when you had benefits that more than makes up for your lack of organic appendages?

If you had the real thing then you could stuff her silly until it takes (and even beyond that), but one can easily make up for it in other qualities such as size and shape.

And really, whatever's stopping you from filling her to the brim with artificial cum instead?

The world is your oyster, and Peruere was nothing but your very own porcelain fuckdoll at this point.

I need to breed her every which way idc if I don't have a dick, if there's a will there's a way

When she realises what you're trying to do, she can't help that sudden jolt that completely overtakes her—her hips practically shoot from the bed, pushing your cock in even deeper, before you push her back down while she lets out a silent scream. By GOD the fact you want to breed her, fill her, make sure a child of YOURS growing inside her, making a mark beyond just her skin.........oh it gets her going in ways she never would've fathomed before

By the end of your VERY long and productive session, it's VERY clear you've both fucked like rabbits from the mess all over the place and the liquid practically gushing from her abused hole. After everything, you finally take off her muzzle, only for you to lead her drool-coated mouth all the way down to the base of your cock to clean it up. She doesn't even protest either, easily taking it like a good girl and making sure that she does a good job in cleaning you up and finishing you off. All you need to do is plug her up properly, feeling all the cum stuffed inside her through the small pauch of her abdomen, where her womb is 🫶

"..I had known this was a possible outcome, and yet I cannot help but be surprised by your control, or lack thereof."

You groaned, covering your face with your hands as you rolled on your side, "I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me! You just looked so irresistible and before I knew it I just--"

"Don't take my words as a form of reprimand, darling." You feel her hands take your own from your face, her lips finally kissing them—you—after a long time of having it muzzled, "I enjoyed it. You are already aware of my.. likes and dislikes, especially when it comes to the rougher parts of the activity. I gave you control, and you willingly seized it."

"I guess..."

"And besides," she muses with a small smile on her face, "I am.. not necessarily opposed to the thought of it."

"Of what?"

"Getting bred."

A warm flush spreads through your cheeks as you gave her a light swat, "You! You are so shameless! What happened to being polite and cryptic?!"

"Do we really need such pleasantries by this point? Seeing that you were rather determined to take me all for yourself, after all..."

"Oh my god."

A deep laugh rumbles within her, the sound so rare and precious that you'd want to keep it all to yourself, and you can't help but laugh along with her as you bask in the afterglow. When your laughter settles down, the two of you end up with your legs tangled up together as you lay there in companionable silence.

Though eventually she decides to break it, "Shall I go and run us a bath?"

"You can stand after all that? Geez, seems like I did a bad job," you joked.

Arlecchino huffed out lightly with a smile, "No, you've rendered me utterly near-useless—a feeling that I don't usually enjoy. Yet the fact that I don't seem to mind it all that much should show that you are special to me."

You feel that heat in your cheeks again at the proclamation, "Archons, and when I aim to have you all sappy like that in public you don't even dare move a muscle."

"Time and place, dear. Time and place. Now," she questions again, "shall I run us a bath? We can take care of the mess later."

You nodded, "Mm, if you don't mind then. But can we take it together?"

You see her eyes crinkle, the glow that the red crosses within them softening like a tender flame, "Of course. I shall be back in a few moments, then."

She gets up, and you pride yourself for being the reason why your lover temporarily goes off balance from a sudden tremor in her legs before collecting yourself.. and you can't help but stare at the remaining cum staining the sides of the plug and the apex of her thighs as she walks off.

She doesn't take the plug off when you go and take the bath together. Wonder why 😋

#hazy demos!#hazy explicits!#i love starting shit ☺️ sub arlecchino believers RISE UP (me and my nonexistent dick both rose up)#arlecchino x reader #arlecchino smut #sub arlecchino #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact smut #sub genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin smut #sub genshin #genshin women x reader #genshin women imagines #genshin women smut #sub genshin women

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alphajocklover · 2 months ago

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Hey, I've been in a relationship with my Korean boyfriend for some years now, and he keeps telling me things about this InstaJock app, and how he's gonna use it to make himself the biggest, most dominant muscular jock ever... I'm usually the one who tops though, so I'm a bit concerned over what that entails, could you help me out? I don't want to lose my twink...

I’ll admit, I’m a little unsure on how to answer your question, mainly because I’m not entirely sure how to interpret it. I might just be overthinking things, but to me it seems like your question can be interpreted in two different way. Both interpretations suggest a different kind of person asking and each have a different answer. So, let’s look at them both.

Our first scenario: you are a concerned boyfriend who is worried that InstaJock, a mysterious and possibly dangerous app that turns the user into a jock, will change your boyfriend in ways he doesn’t fully comprehend. You’re worried because you’re a loving boyfriend who is naturally worried about the man you love messing around with mysterious technology and altering his personality to the point he’s like a different person. If that’s the case my advice is to just talk to him. If you’re worried he’s rushing into this, tell his as much, and talk to him about why he wants to become a jock in the first place. Maybe he’ll go through with it, maybe he won’t, but if you talk about it beforehand things will probably be much better for both of you, and I’m sure you’ll be able to work this out. Maybe you’ll even get a hot jock boyfriend out of it.

The second scenario is that you’re not concerned about your boyfriend literally changing his identity, you’re concerned because you want to be the top. Which… honestly is kind of shitty man. Like, I get worrying about being sexually compatible with your boyfriend, but when you hear the love of your life is using a magic app to change basically everything about themselves, you’re first thought shouldn’t be ‘how will I be able to fuck him if he’s bigger than me.’ Lucky for you I’m going to give you an answer anyway. Hell, I’ll give you 3 possible answers.

Number 1: Top the Jock. I can’t believe I have to explain this, but just because he’s a jock doesn’t mean he’ll be a top. Sure most jocks are dominant studs who think with their dicks, but it’s possible to be a jock and bottom. There are submissive jocks, power bottom jocks, and plenty of vers jocks. Even if you both end up as tops, you could find a way to make it work. A lot of people do. But something tells me that’s not the answer that you really want. So let’s move onto our next answer.

Number 2: Become the Jock. If you don’t want your boyfriend to use InstaJock, one of the things you could do is use it first. Now, that won’t actually stop him from using the app, but considering his obvious infatuation with jocks I’m betting that if you became one, he’d do whatever you want. Jocks have a way of getting what they want, and I’m better a Korean twink like your boyfriend would be putty in your hands. He wouldn’t become a jock unless you wanted to, and you’d never lose your twink. This one is the one I think you’d like best, but… personally I enjoy the 3rd option the most.

Number 3: Join the Jock. This one is pretty similar to number 2, with one key difference: you both become jocks. Since you were bigger to begin with you’ll most likely be bigger after you get jockified, and then not only will you have a boyfriend with enough muscle to handle getting topped by your new beefy jock self, you’ll have a fellow jock to bro out with!

I’ll be honest, I can’t tell you what to do. I don’t know enough about your situation to know what’s right for you or your boyfriend. But let me know how it all works out in the end. I’m sure whatever happens… it’ll be very hot.

**hey guys! I have to say I had a lot of fun with this prompt. I kind of have a thing for buff Asian guys, if you can’t tell, and it’s always fun to do InstaJock stuff. I am sorry to say that I have no idea if anyone pictured is Korean or just generally Asian. Finding specific pictures online is hard so I tend to go with the closest I can get. Anyways, stay tuned!**

#muscle growth tf #muscle tf #jock tf #jock transformation #jockification #nerd to jock #instajock tf

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partycatty · 8 months ago

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Can you do Johnny and a Fem reader thats taller than him? I'm getting KINDA TIRED of the whole 'u look up at him' thing like... no I don't.

the prompt made me giggle bc i have a mk oc that's taller than most people LOL

johnny cage > improv

johnny meets his new partner in his upcoming action movie, he doesn't expect to be outshined.

notes: johnny's like 6'1 probably, so i'm making the reader somewhere around 6'4ish. just taller. like "look down at him" taller.

[ masterlist ]

a new action movie? hell yeah, no problem, johnny figured as he walked with a sway in his arms. walking onto this set and that set was something he was fairly used to, and he practically owned his little area in this particular studio, considering just how often he picked up their projects. what he didn't anticipate, though, was his usual spot by the temporary living space was taken up by a trailer that was most certainly not his. who uses that color on the exterior?

then again, he thought, maybe something changed. maybe his assistant rented a different model and he was supposed to try it out. so, like the gentleman he is, johnny tries the door to the trailer that opens with a firm click. the last thing he expected was to see a figure at the other end of the trailer, sitting at a screwed-in vanity and humming under their breath.

"excuse me," johnny calls out, crossing his arms as he takes a few more steps inside. "i believe we haven't met."

you swivel in your chair, removing the earbud that was settled in your ear. when you realize who you're talking to, you sit up straight.

"oh," you're surprised he just welcomed himself in. "hello. are... is there something you need?"

johnny swallows, a little weirded out by it all. "yeah, actually. uh... you're in my spot."

"your... spot?" you raise a brow, looking around for the imaginary chair he must have been referring to. "i don't follow."

johnny shakes his head. "it's... nevermind. this spot on the lot is usually for the lead role."

his comment makes your brows knit together. "i am the lead role."

you can see the gears turning in his head as he realizes what he got himself into. you're an A-List celebrity, just like him. johnny wasn't going to be the top dog like always. it all makes sense now, reading the script and realizing why all of the emails were cc'd and never directly sent to his manager; you're the lead, he's the secondary.

all johnny could do was step toward you, now looking down at you as you sat at the vanity. his expression is blank, though there is a flush of embarrassment on his cheeks for being wrong. god, he hates being wrong.

"oh, sorry," your hands grip the sides of the chair, snapping him and yourself from the silent tension. "suppose i should introduce myself."

you hoist yourself from being sat and tower over the actor so easily it's a shock his knees don't wobble out of nervousness. you're tall, so damn tall and it flusters him even further. he doesn't even realize your hand is outstretched, he's too busy swallowing thickly over your shadow overtaking his form.

"you're..." johnny trails off, finally attempting to shake your hand. "nice to... meet you. sorry, i—" he spins on his heel and exits the trailer with a slam. you chuckle, realizing he was covering his face sheepishly, raising his sunglasses to the top of his head. interesting first impression.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

shooting the first scenes came quickly after your introduction, the weirdness of it all still bothering johnny ever so slightly. as you stood side by side he couldn't help but steal nervous glances. his side eyeing was not only incredibly obvious but reminiscent of a dog.

he always thought he was into people smaller than him, considering he himself was a big guy. but the way you'd use your height to your advantage, or the times you could look over him, he was blushing like a maniac. tragically, one of the scenes you two were meant to shoot was one where your characters were in a heated argument.

"if we let them go now, this entire mission would have been for nothing!" his character shouts, running a hand through his hair and fidgeting with the prop gun on his hip. "i'm sorry, but i can't let you get in the way."

you weren't blind, you could tell your presence made him anxious. thankfully, just as his specialization is doing his own stunts, yours was improvisation. and boy, was now a time as ever to take advantage of this skill. letting out a faux-angered growl, you grab both of johnny's hands and slam them against the wall above his head. you lean down to get to his eye level, a snarl on your face that leaves johnny a stuttering mess. your frame was much larger than him, and with the way you bent down, he was completely caged within your grasp. you noticed the director stand up straight in amusement.

"listen here, you son of a bitch," you follow the script flawlessly, tone straight like you didn't pin your co-star to the wall. "you're gonna take an order and that's that, are we clear?"

johnny looked like he could agree to murder right about now. His eyes are hazy as he wets his lips and darts his eyes between yours. "loud and clear."

a loud "CUT!" saves johnny from further embarrassment, and you pull away from him like it was nothing. if the director was complimenting either of you, it fell of his deaf ears and johnny's far away gaze as his hand falls to his chest to check his racing heartbeat.

"you alright, lil guy?" you fold your arms and stand in front of him, a smirk toying at your lips, but you knew his fragile ego wouldn't be able to handle your full cockiness. however, you were sure the insertion of the nickname got to him like a metaphorical gunshot as he clutched the fabric of his shirt.

"peachy, doll." his grin was so strained he looked to be held at gunpoint. you had never seen an actor, of all people, to struggle this hard.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage #mk1 #johnny cage x reader #marley writes ☆

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lightlycareless · 2 months ago

Note

what would naoyas reaction be to finding out Satoru was y/ns first kiss?

Hello!!

Well, it would be chaos. LOL. Poor Naoya is very insecure even if it doesn't look like it 🤣 but why say this when I can show you?

warnings: fluff. a jealous naoya. satoru is a jerk? maybe. he likes to be silly. a lot. too much. also not sure if to tag this as a regular prompt or a side story, but considering that happened in my fic... i've decided to take it as a small side story.

Happy reading!

He would lose it. Even if you explained that it was nothing but a bet, curiosity getting the best of you and no feelings involved, Naoya would take this as a quick starter for his one-sided competition against Satoru.

He just had to prove how he was so much better than the Gojo heir in everything; from clothes, to cars, to what phone model he had for the moment, even the places he took you out to eat!

And naturally, Satoru wouldn’t even know what was going on, believing Naoya was simply doing whatever spoiled heirs did (never him, of course. Self-awareness is out the window) though he was curious to know what you thought of the matter, you appeared to be quite… overwhelmed by these sudden changes, surely, you’d be able to offer some insight behind all this.

Thus, after asking you to meet at a nearby café…

“You mean to say you don’t know why your husband is acting all…” Satoru scowls, failing to find the right word to describe his behavior, if there even was one…

“No, really, I don’t! I mean… sometimes he just likes to buy things! Sometimes for himself, sometimes for me, especially after a well-done mission or simply because we’ve been apart for far too long. I don’t like it when he does it impulsively, though, since I suspect he gets in trouble with his family over it…” You say. “Well, that’s a bit off topic—anyways, I don’t think he’s doing anything… differently. Why do you ask?”

“Come on, Y/N. You don’t actually believe that do you?? I’ve seen it in your eyes, you know that isn’t your typical obnoxious Naoya—”

“Don’t say that of him. And, well, I guess he’s been a bit off, but…”

“There! Now, let’s backtrack your steps, when did he begin acting this way?”

“Why does it matter so much to you? You’re the same too!” You frown.

Because he’s been far more attentive than he liked to let on; noticing that whenever he went all-out on his spending, he was around. With anyone else he was just… normal, he supposes. If that adjective could even be used on Naoya.

Or maybe because he didn’t want to take his actions as a reflection of his own. But since when did he even care what others thought of him? Might’ve been after one nasty comment from your sister…

“I’m actually more likeable but thank you for trying.” Satoru says, you roll your eyes. “Anyways, when did he begin acting this way?”

“Oh, if you really must know then I guess a few days ago?”

“And what happened then? You have to give me all the details Y/N! Don’t half-ass your story!”

“You’ll have to be nicer about it if you want me to tell you!”

“I’ll buy you any sweet you want—”

“I already have Naoya for that.”

“Then I’ll get you a copy of that game you’ve been looking for ages, deal?”

“Alright, alright.” You sigh, conceding. “…I mean, I don’t think there’s much else for me to tell you. We kind of just talk about anything that crosses our minds; make the most of our time together before he has to leave for work again, you know?”

“Ugh, that’s gross.”

“Satoru!”

“I mean—oh, poor you; anyhow, there must’ve been something you said that made him act this way! Come on, remember!”

“Well, we… we talked about wanting to go down to the city for dinner, before settling for the garden. We then laughed about something funny that happened to one of the servants, something that reminded me of that one thing I did when I was younger—with you, actually! You know which one, when I bet you a kiss—”

Oh.

OH.

And just like that, everything made sense.

“No, Satoru—I know that look, don’t even—!”

“Jealous?! Your husband’s acting like that because he’s jealous? Of me?!?” Gojo shrieked, undoubtedly having the time of his life with this revelation.

“No, he’s not! Stop it already, it’s not even funny…”

“I mean, surely you must know how he is.” He snickers. “He’s always been the competitive one, even when we were kids! I just never thought it would come to you—do you think he fears I’m going to steal you away? Or maybe—oh no, are you falling for me, Y/N??”

“What?! You need to lay off whatever it is you consume; it’s affecting your perception of reality!”

“How about it? Wanna see the limits his jealousy takes him to?” Satoru continues teasing. “Ah, he must be devastated that I took your sweet first time, do you think he has nightmares because of it? Wonders if he could ever compare to me?”

“No! Now, if you excuse me, there’s some misunderstandings I need to clear up.” You swiftly interrupt, standing up from your seat before making your way back home, back to an anxious Naoya who has been nothing but torturing himself with self-deprecating thoughts ever since you told him you were to meet Satoru. His biggest contender for your affections so it seems, the one putting his marriage in jeopardy…

But thankfully, you were there to ease all of these hurtful thoughts away, once and for all.

“Naoya… my dear, can we talk?”

“…What is it?” a pout on his face as he grumbles, side effects of his overwhelming jealousy.

“There’s a reason why you’ve done all that… compulsive spending, isn’t you?”

“No. I just do it because I want to.” He responds sternly, you sigh.

“I know why, Naoya. You don’t have to hide it anymore.” You reveal, making him tense for a quick moment before sighing too. “It was long ago, and it didn’t mean anything to me.”

“Ugh, I know, and yet—I can’t help but feel resentful. Like I… I lost something.”

“Oh, Naoya… but that was just a silly thing I did as a child, you know?” you coo, soon wrapping your arms around him and pulling him to you. “Besides, you’ve taken something much more important from me.”

“What?”

“My heart—and that is something no one will ever win from you, not even Satoru.”

“…I truly acted like a child, haven’t I?” Naoya says, embarrassed.

“Well, I always thought you were cute when jealous, but… never to the extent of making you insecure. Less with someone as annoying as him! How could you possibly even think I liked him?” you giggle.

“I don’t know… He’s… not that bad, I guess.” He looks away, flustered.

“Yet, he’s not you, silly.” You say, standing on your tiptoes to give place a sweet kiss on the lips. His heart warms up for the first time since that day, slowly melting away all his uncertainties. “He’ll never be. Thank God! So… does this mean we can settle everything and leave all this behind?”

“Only if you show me how much better I am than Satoru…”

“Was that even disputable?” you ask, Naoya’s arms snaking around your waist and pulling you even closer.

“No, I just need a reminder—wouldn’t mind a demonstration for him too…” he teases, you frown.

“… Just one kiss, and that’s it. Nothing more. You know I don’t like it when other sees us like this.”

“Of course, you’re only mine, after all.”

Y/N to the rescue 🥺 But don't I seem to always write her reassuring him? Thankfully I do have something planned for that... a jealous Y/N that needs to be reminded of how much Naoya truly loves her :))))

Anyways, thank you so much for sending in this ask!!! I'm sure I've spoken about Naoya reacting to Y/N's first kiss and how it involved Satoru (unfortunately) but this time around I've decided to write a little something :> I hope you enjoyed it!

Now, take care and hope to see you soon!

#ask #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #series side stories: first it hurts—

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seiya-starsniper · 1 year ago

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For the blossoming romance asks: 18? 💜

Cecccciillllllll thank you for this lovely ask, I had so much fun writing it 💖💖

Bit early for Saturday, but this fill does kind of fulfill the prompt "Touch Starved" for Dreamling Week too 👀

blossoming romance writing prompts

--------

hello/goodbye hugs that linger

Hob Gadling, Dream has found, is rather fond of hugging.

At the end of a long night spent conversing at The New Inn, Hob had wistfully asked Dream “a hundred years, then?” perhaps expecting the same answer Dream had provided him for the last 600 years. But his time imprisoned has changed him, and so Dream instead says,

“I’ve heard that friends meet more often than merely once a century.”

The smile on Hob’s face grows slowly. It starts with surprise and wonder, a slight quirk of the lips, as if the immortal cannot believe what he has just heard. Then it grows into a blinding thing, full of teeth and unrestrained joy.

“Next week then?” Hob asks. “Perhaps next Saturday at 7pm?”

Dream thinks of his duties, of all the rebuilding he must do for his realm, of the still missing dreams and nightmares, and the vortex that is threatening to destroy the very fabric of the universe.

“I believe I shall be able to make it,” Dream answers, a small smile creeping up his own face.

“Wonderful!” Hob exclaims. “I shall see you here again, then.”

When they stand to depart the pub, Dream finds himself suddenly enveloped in warmth and the smell of old wood smoke and beer. He freezes, uncertain at first of what is happening until realization dawns upon him seconds later.

Hob is hugging him.

Dream does not know for how long Hob embraces him, but it is over too soon for his liking when the man releases Dream from his hold.

“Sorry, probably should have asked first if you were the hugging type,” Hob says, suddenly shy and refusing to meet Dream’s eyes.

“I…I am not sure that I am,” Dream answers honestly. “It has been some time since someone last held me. At least a century, if not more.”

Hob’s eyebrows raise suddenly, alarm written all over his face.

“There’s a story behind that, isn’t there?” he asks, and Dream can feel the ache in Hob’s voice as he voices the question.

Dream nods. “I am not ready to tell it, yet. Perhaps next week. Or the week after.”

“However long you need,” Hob reassures him. “I’m not going anywhere, my friend.”

On the evening before their next meeting, Dream is exhausted. He has unmade his favorite creation, killed a dream vortex, fought with his favorite arcana, and discovered his sibling had intervened in his realm in a petty attempt at sibling rivalry. All within the span of a week.

—

It is. A lot.

Dream considers canceling their meeting. Reaching out to Hob in a dream and asking to postpone their appointment until Dream can collect himself and feel less unmoored.

But Saturday comes, and Dream finds himself standing just outside The New Inn, contemplating why he has not yet entered.

“My friend!” he hears from directly behind him.

Dream turns and there Hob is, dressed in an outfit similar but not exactly the same as the one he wore last week. The brown leather jacket is the same, as are the shoes, but his trousers are a different color and he’s wearing some sort of graphic tee shirt instead of a plain white one.

“Hello Hob,” Dream greets, trying his best to smile, despite his exhaustion.

Hob’s brow furrows. “Are you all right, my friend?” he asks, concerns clear in the tone of his voice.

“I am…fine,” Dream answers though he is anything but.

Hob huffs disbelievingly. “No, I don’t think you are,” he says. “Ah fuck it.”

Hob pulls Dream into his arms and Dream gasps at their sudden closeness. Hob still smells like old wood smoke, and Dream wonders if this is his natural scent, or if it is some sort of cologne he wears, whose purpose is to drive Dream to madness with how much he wants to inhale it.

Dream’s exhaustion lowers his inhibitions, and before he can think better of it, he finds himself wrapping his arms around Hob’s back and burrowing his face into the other man’s shoulder. He thinks the wood smoke smell is strongest here, in Hob’s jacket, and he wonders what Hob has done to imprint this smell into the material.

“There, there,” Hob says, rubbing smooth circles into Dream’s back. “I’ve got you, old friend. I have you. I’m here.”

Dream finds himself clinging to Hob, perhaps more than is socially acceptable amongst humans, but the other man doesn’t seem to mind. They stand there, just holding one another, until a bar patron from inside emerges, forcing them to break apart and move away from the entryway to the pub.

“I don’t think the pub is the best place for our meeting tonight,” Hob says, once the other person is out of sight. “My flat is not too far from here, if you don’t mind a walk? I’ve got a bottle of mead old as Queen Elizabeth herself in the fridge. I think you may need it.”

“I believe,” Dream answers, his tongue heavy like molasses in his mouth, “that you may be correct.”

Hob smiles. “And I can hug you all you want in the privacy of my living room.”

“I would like that,” Dream says, and finds that he means it. Already his heart is lighter after Hob’s embrace, and perhaps it will grow lighter still, with each subsequent one, given freely, by his oldest friend.

#dreamling #dream x hob #dreamling week #the sandman #seiya writes #I too would like a hob gadling hug pls #seiya drabbles

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ohtobeleah · 1 year ago

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My Brothers Keeper // Jake Seresin

Summary: Five seconds faster and Jake Seresin wouldn’t be standing in his bedroom telling the love of his life the biggest lie he’d ever told.

Warnings: Relationship breakdown. Jake Seresin x F!reader.

Word Count: 2k

Author Note: Day Four of Whumptober. Prompt I chose: Betrayal. Thank you to @ailesswhumptober for the prompt list.

Whumptober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“You have to stop taking your grief out on me.” There wasn’t an awful lot more Jake Seresin could have done about it. And the only thing he could think of that could fix the situation he found himself in was to go back in time, fly a little faster, and save your brother and what Jake could only describe as your ‘adoptive’ fathers, lives.

But he couldn’t bend the laws of physics anymore than he could bend time. So, he stayed standing in your living room—watching as you folded up the remaining bits of laundry you’d been neglecting to put away.

You hadn’t spoken in three very long, very silent days. The home you shared had become a silent battle ground of unspoken fear, grief and anger. You could cut the tension with a knife it had gotten so bad—but Jake gave you the space you so clearly needed. Until now—

“Leave me alone Jake.”

During those three days all Jake could think about was how he might lose you because he wasn’t a good enough pilot to be able to save Maverick and Rooster. He wasn’t fast enough, he wasn’t prepared enough—

Hell he wasn’t brave enough.

“Okay, I cannot, no matter how much you blame me—no matter how much you ask, no matter how much you criticize, ignore my existence or question me, I cannot bring them back baby.” Jake made his way across the space when you didn’t answer him, he missed the way things used to be before that damned mission. He crouched to his knees across from you—piles of washing kept a little distance. But none of that stopped Jake from tilting your chin up so that you had no choice but to look at him as he spoke. Nothing stopped him from cupping your cheeks in his hands just to run his thumbs across your soft and supple cheeks.

“I’m right here, I’m right in front of you baby—“ You and Jake had been on rocky rounds since he’d called you to inform you that your brother, Bradley Bradshaw and your uncle or, as some would be more comfortable referring to him as your dad, Pete Mitchell had both been killed during a mission. “Please look at me?” Jake continued to guide your gaze to his eyes. He smiled softly when you finally gave him the time of day. “I’m right here, just talk to me.”

He had to be the one who told you.

Jake couldn’t leave that task to anyone else—it was the least he could do, considering he had been the one who’d gone after them.

“I don’t even know who I’m looking at anymore.” There was a sickening feeling that hadn’t left your body since Jake had told you two of the most important people in your life had both died. “I don’t believe you when you say that you, Hangman, did everything you could to try and save them.”

You never called Jake Hangman, you knew deep down how much the meaning behind his callsign kept him up at night. But here you were, throwing it right back in his face.

Jake Seresin thought you loved him, understood who he was to the very bone. Jake thought you trusted him, knew his mind, body and soul. He had a ring tucked away in his bedside table—a Diamond worth more than he could afford. But yet here you were:

Just like all the others who ever came before you.

Jake thought you were different, that you saw him for who he really was. You were Bradley Bradshaw's little sister, the barista who made the world's most perfect oat milk vanilla lattes and just so happened to work at the coffee stand on base while Jake was stationed in Lemoore. Did he know you were Rooster's little sister? Not initially. Did he back down when he’d connected all the dots? No—he still thought you were just the sweetest thing.

But now you were sitting right in front of him, folding laundry that you’d neglected, calling him a liar after he’d told you all that he knew and all that he did.

“I don’t believe you when you say you didn’t hold back, that you did everything you could have to get there in time because I know you—“ Jake had dropped his hand a long time ago at this point. But he still sat there right in front of you and took the metaphorical beating you gave his person, his very being. “And I know that deep down, you and Bradley hated each other with such a passion that as soon as the opportunity came up where you could get rid of him? you took it.”

It was misguided anguish, Jake knew that. But this was getting a little too personal for his ego to handle.

“Is that what you really think?” Jake asked softly as he watched you get up off the ground with a huff. You’d promised you wouldn’t cry anymore, but you should have learnt by now not to make promises you couldn’t keep. “Do you really think I hated your brother so much that I'd just let him die?”

It wasn't just a question of morality, it was a question of character. Just who did you really think Jake was?

“Don’t walk away from me!” Jake hissed as he got up off the living room floor to follow you. Hell three weeks ago he thought he’d follow you anywhere on earth. Now he wasn’t too sure if you’d even let him. “Y/n! Don’t you dare walk away from me.”

“Leave me alone Jake!” You spat back as you made your way down the hallway towards your bedroom. “Before I say something I’ll regret.”

“Oh no honey, let's air out all our grievances now!” It was the condescending tone you didn’t appreciate the most as Jake followed you into your shared bedroom. He slammed the door so hard behind him that it nearly came off its hinges. It made you freeze in your place, the loud obnoxious sound of the door slamming shut rattled in your mind as Jake's footsteps grew heavy as he walked closer and closer to you. “Fucking tell me you don’t mean what you said.” He growled with a disdain in his temperament. “TELL ME!”

You’d never seen your boyfriend so mad before. Usually Jake was pretty content, but it was clear that your suspicions had struck a raw nerve.

“You killed my brother.” Was all you said as the backs of your legs hit the side of your bed. “And you killed the only man who was ever remotely my dad.” Jake could see it in your eyes—you believed every word you spoke with enough conviction that he even questioned what the truth of the matter was. “You're meant to be the best! But yet you weren’t good enough to save the two most important men in my life!?”

“I did everything that I could!” Jake was beginning to lose his damn mind as he pulled at his hair and clenched his jaw so hard he thought his teeth might break. “I love you, I really do but you are taking this too far Y/n—I didn’t kill your family! The enemy did, they were the ones who flew a little faster in better jets with better equipment and they were the ones who fired the missile—NOT ME!”

Jake knew you didn’t believe him, he knew that you’d already left before you had the guts to say it. He could see it written all over your face like a bad breakup song from the nineties. You couldn’t sleep beside the man who you blame with every fiber of your being for the deaths of your father and brother.

But you just couldn’t pull the trigger.

“Is this really how it’s gonna be?” Jake asked as he stepped a little closer, his chest was practically pressed against yours as you held your ground. “You blame me, I deny deny deny until my dying breath and we keep going around in circles like this?” The feeling of Jake's palm against your cheek had your tears welling, his thumb brushed against the apple of your cheek and all those stray hairs were now tucked back behind your ear. “I thought you knew me baby, c’mon, look at me yeah? Do you really think that I didn’t do enough?”

The silence that lingered spoke volumes. Jake knew right then and there that he had to leave, he had to step away. He couldn’t keep doing this—begging you to remember who he was because you were so clouded by your own grief.

Never once had you asked if he was okay. Never once had you asked how he was, if he was going alright after getting there just five seconds too late. You never asked if he laid awake at night playing that scenario over and over in his mind—never. You never asked because you didn’t care. You didn’t believe he was an innocent man in all of this.

“You know what?” But Jake Seresin was good at putting up walls to protect his heart. He was good at playing pretend, playing the part in people’s lives that they needed him to be. It was just easier to be The Hangman than it was to be Jake. Standing before the love of his life realizing that he would always and forever be remembered as the man who killed her brother was a role he never thought he’d play:

But for you he’d do it, and he’d do it well.

“Fine—I admit it.” Jake stepped back to put some distance between the two of you. He knew he’d never be so close to you again. It broke his heart into a million pieces but if this was who you really needed him to be he’d be that person. “I could have done more, but I chose not to.”

“Jake—“ You’d been thinking about it for days, the possibility, the probability that Jake had more involvement than he was leading you to believe. But hearing him actually say it threw everything you thought you knew out the window, along with your relationship.

“All your brother ever did was sit on that fucking perch of his and the one time he needed to get off? He wasn’t nearly capable enough to get himself out of a tough situation.” Jake had never hated Bradley, sure they had their tiffs and differences over the years but never did he ever hate the guy. “And Mav? His arrogance finally caught up with him! You should take some fucking comfort in the fact they’re both with your dead daddy now—it’s one big family fucking reunion because I chose to not take the shot when I so clearly had it!”

It was the biggest betrayal you’d ever experienced.

“Get out!”

“What! You’ve been blaming me for everything since before the funerals and now you wanna stand there and pretend you didn’t see it fucking coming?” Jake scoffed as he made his way across the room to collect a few things he’d need before showing up to Coyote's front door with his tail between his legs.

It was the biggest betrayal Jake had ever experienced.

“Leave! Get out of my house! Get out of my life before you have a chance to take anything else away from me!” You had never felt such a heartbreak, felt such a loss than when you finally heard Jake admit it. He could have saved them, but he chose not to for his own selfish reasons.

But Jake was a good man, he had his morals and his own heart to protect. He’d never forgiven himself for not being just a fraction faster—because when he saw that F-14 explode with two of the most important people in your life inside as his thumb grazed the trigger—he knew he’d lost you too.

“Trust me Bradshaw, you’ve got nothing left to fucking lose.” ***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~**~***~

Whumptober Tags 🏷️ @xoxabs88xox @oldermenaremyreligion @slut-f0r-u @emma-is-cool @armydrcamers @topguncortez @topgun-imagines @kmc1989 @els-marvelvsp @blindedbythelightt

#ailesswhumptober2023 #Leah’s whumptober Masterlist #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x female!reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman fic

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sgiandubh · 5 months ago

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Contemplating Bullshit

Quick, Fandom Police, screencap this and send it to CO. ASAP:

'Dear' CO (or should I say, eh... 'Glinda'? 🙄),

You wrote what amounts to a PhD thesis about one of my recent posts (https://www.tumblr.com/sgiandubh/753845334988423168/they-watch-they-hate-then-they-copy?source=share). So long for your carefully curated 'I don't care about Those Tinhat Shippers' narrative, in the process: but hey, common sense never bothered you and your ilk, right?

You don't care, but you write. Abundantly. Prompted by a denunciation that should give your 'US progressive beliefs' pause. Between you and me, lady: our European shipper community cannot give a dead rat's ass about you systematically dragging the US politics current evolution in this TV series fandom, in an effort to-

a) brown nose the US more conservative, MAGA crowd (with which 'Erself seems to be resonating, but that is suddenly and conveniently of no social and political import to you, of course)

b) sound sophisticated towards what you think (wrongly) is a primitive, uneducated, politically unaware shipper fandom crowd.

Some of the shippers chose to go political, for their own reasons and if they are happy with it, so am I. I do happen to believe in freedom of speech and editorial choices. Many, such as myself, chose to never mix politics and mundane, private beliefs (such as all this fandom thing), just because we happen to think, in Europe, that mixing those two notions is extreme poor taste. With dramatic historical precedents to boot. So you see, I am not very sure what point are you trying to prove, spare that you somehow consider yourself superior to those who do not share your political views. Told you: so long for your progressiveness and I am sorry, but your are such a Cheap Demagogue, lady!

Then, you couldn't help yourself but tell a Big, Fat Glinda Lie:

I did not invent the Orc concept. Your running mate, BIF (the Poor Man's CO, btw) did - and proud of herself, too:

Discerning Orcs vs. Stupid Shippers, Circle of Trust vs. Rectangle of Reality. We know that song, that is so 2019. And sure, I did mention an Orc Army (five to ten blogs, the rest are parrots, unable to make the difference between 'pixilated' and 'pixelated', when talking about a blurry picture - pixie/pixel, btw). My understanding is that someone as genuinely intelligent (that, I grant you) as yourself was piqued by the irony. But you chose to be nasty. Fair enough. Your problem, not mine.

Have you moved on? It doesn't sound like you did. And yeah, you sound angry and bothered and barely keeping up a civilized demeanor, there.

I could go on and on and on, debunking everything you said, but I am merciful to my readers and I happen to think that sometimes being clear and concise is far more effective than being verbose. So, here is the deal, CO:

Take your condescending, US-centric world view and your intolerant nastiness and shove them right up your Glinda nose, ok?

As for me, I am firmly on the ship deck. You are not to tell me what I saw with my own eyes. Better stick to whatever you post on your political blog. You have a LOT of work to do there. Seriously.

PS: in the book, Glinda is the Good Witch from the South. Just pedantically sayin'.

#fandom #shitshow

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widebrimmedhatsblog · 2 months ago

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Pleaaaaaase give me and all of us ALL the lore I would love it 🥹

Yay!!! Let me try and go in order of events?

Actual essay below the cut

Lilith! So, in this universe, there is obviously no deal with Xaden to keep Vi "safe" in the rider's quadrant, but Lilith sends her anyway because she still thinks Vi will be safer in the quadrant than in the scribes, venin-wise. Because of this (in the quadrant with no Xaden) a few things happen! Vi's generally MORE aware of the venin adjacent issues, she's less confident with her lightning, and when it becomes clear to Lilith that Col. Aetos is after Violet, she knows she has to figure something new out.

The storm! The storm is Lilith's doing. @k2jk and I chatted about this briefly, and they summed it up pretty well in that Lilith starts the storm to try and delay Vi from reaching Athebyne entirely, but when that fails, she adapts and overcomes (if you will) and decides to use the storm to keep Vi in the cave with Xaden. Obviously, she doesn't have the deal in this universe, but she knows Xaden, at the very least, cares about the venin problem, as she suspects Vi will too. Also, Vi had THREE dragons, so she was fine, battle-wise. I think in canon Lilith is out of town (LOL) when war games happen, but in this specific universe where (again) Vi doesn't have X looking out for her, I think Lilith would be a lot more hands-on (in her very Lilith way). Also, Lilith clearly has a thing with like, storms at times other people would not want a storm. Seems her love language is just ruining people's day!

Xaddy! So Em and I (@maethologies) captured the Xaden lore in this as instead of being a child of divorce as he is in canon, he is instead a child of PLEASE get a divorce!! I don't know what the math is precisely, but canonically, Fen Riorson had to have been pretty young when he had Xaden, because Sgaeyl is AROUND fifty, I believe. This led me to conclude that his mom would be pretty young too? So there's that part of things, and then add in the fact that their marriage/betrothal/sex pact was contractual and not out of love, and that Fen HAD to be a pretty hard core guy in regards to his commitment to the revolution, and I think we have a nice recipe for some issues! Amy @skyfallscotland's original prompt was that either the Tyrrish Rebellion never happened, or it happened differently, and I decided to take the happened differently route of things. And when considering how things could have happened differently, my first thought for a variable we actually know about was Xaden's mom. So, I made her Poromish (which I think she is, I just think she's hiding in the Isles in canon). Basically, the idea there is that she left when he was ten, but she did come back, and she was pretty in and out of his life. She's not queen, because his parents aren't married (afaik) but she's...around? sometimes? But, her presence in Tyrrendor was able to get Poromiel to throw some extra troops/weapons/money/ whatever who knows at the Rebellion, which helped the Rebellion win. Another thing Em and I talk about that is relevant to this fic is that we both see Fen/unnamed woman who is Xaden's mom as a mirror of xaden/cat, or what xaden/cat would have become, sans Vi. To ME, this means they were pretty toxic, fought a lot in front of Xaden, general manipulation what have you. If we ever get Xaden's mother's first name I will probably succumb to my demons and write a full prequel fic, but that day is not today!

Xaddy part 2! I said this elsewhere, but Xaden's gryphon gift is basically his second signet! That's how he cheats at rock paper scissors (what a guy!!) and that's how he repeatedly reads her mind throughout the fic. Vi doesn't seem to know about gryphon fliers having mind work gifts in canon until X tells her, so I assumed she wouldn't know. Also, like, of course he bonds Sgaeyl eventually. Of course. Not to @ Amy twice in one post, but I think of it as VERY similar to Keep Quiet in that it's like, we know this guy. We know his destiny. We Know. So yes, he bonds Sgaeyl EVENTUALLY, but not on page. I have an idea, actually, but I don't want anyone else asking me to write a continuation of this AU, so I don't want to say it publicly just yet, LOL.

I think that 's it for now? If there's anything else lore-wise anyone else was wondering about, feel free to ask!!

#to hate and to hold #fourth wing fanfic #helena's asks!

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velvetvexations · 1 month ago

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I don't wish to hide behind a Native friend in voicing my opinions on the matter, but I asked said friend, Trickster Kisses, for permission to quote him so I can give context for why I have the stance that I do.

Here's him explaining it to me for the first time a few years ago:

Here's his tags on that post I reblogged yesterday:

Here's a post he made shortly thereafter:

And from a conversation we had last night:

Doubtlessly some Algonquin people disagree, but I've seen multiple say the controversy is silly, and like. Yeah. Saying "wendigo" is not going to summon evil spirits to possess you and turn you into a cannibal, it was a metaphor for greed. Natives are generally aware that the world doesn't work on Beetlejuice rules. Even if a few may insist on it, others find it deeply condescending to be treated like village peasants who cross themselves and warn the smirking white protagonist about the forest being filled with goblins and ghouls, except without the part where they turn out to be right because these things aren't real.

And it's different from creating images of Mahoumed, because (a) that's about respecting the single most important figure in the Koran short of Allah Himself, not being in fear of one particular mythical creature that got it's name popular with white people, and (b) non-Muslims depicting Mahoumed is literally only ever done purely to spite Muslims.

I even feel, as my friend does, that the necessary accuracy point is debatable, as other cultural beliefs include vampires, elves, and the Greek gods, and those are often distorted far beyond what the people that did or do believe in them would recognize, but in that I'm willing to concede more than my friend and say, yeah, getting something right and not just going with the pop cultural flow is almost literally the least you can do for a still very vulnerable and hurting group that's been done repeated catastrophic damage by your own group. You should, in fact, in my white opinion, just name your deer monster something else, and in that I "disagree" (it's more like a deferring perspective) with Trickster Kisses whose stance is much more relaxed.*

And I think if it were just "name your deer monster something else, be accurate if you actually use the wendigo name" a lot more people would be on board, that was the position of the Algonquin person on that post yesterday, but white people going all "stop it Patrick you're scaring him!" about it is really weird at best.

*from having asked about engaging with the wendigo in my own writing, a sequel to a story by Algernon Blackwood which got it very wrong:

Depends honestly, if you're not worried about backlash you can honestly just be like, whatever, sometimes vampires sparkle, it'd be cool to see more from the original myths but then you have to get into 'okay but like, which tribe's myths' ngl follow your heart in that regard, I personally consider all of them solid & acceptable

my own decision was to take it in a somewhat meta direction and directly address the fact that the Blackwood story was inaccurate

Okay, so like. This is the ask that prompted me to go to Trickster Kisses and ask him for permission to quote him, and in particular I asked if he could give a response to you specifically.

Listen. Anon. I truly did not expect him to be so angry. Like, I'm not kidding, I sincerely feel bad for you right now. This tongue-lashing is not coming from me. All I can tell you is that this is how an Algonquian person feels about it:

@gromlyn

Trickster Kisses, again four years ago:

#folkcourse #racism #discourse

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zoobiefish · 14 days ago

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I am WAY behind on Auctober again! Ugh, university, am I right?? 😩 Hopefully for the final 2 days I’ll get some art done for it, but in my years of accepting my Autism I’ve come to understand that I can’t always meet NT expectations—and that’s okay 😁 Anyway, let’s get caught up:

22: Disabled

Yes, Autism is a disability. Yes, I am disabled. And that’s okay! I often see able-bodied and able-minded people treat the term “disabled” as if it is a dirty word. They’ll try to fluff it up by replacing it with “differently abled” or similar terms. But the truth is that by fluffing up the terminology, you do more harm than good—all it does is make disability more stigmatized than it already is. So yes, the term is “disabled.” It’s not a slur, it’s not a dirty word—it’s just a word! And it accurately describes me as well. There are some things that I will never be able to do that NTs can do with ease and take for granted…and that’s perfectly—you guessed it—okay! I have challenges in my daily life that will never go away. All that means though is that I need the proper supports in place so I can function. Now, I do need to acknowledge that my Autism is considered “high-functioning” (clinical words, not mine!) so I understand that I don’t face nearly the same struggles as “low-functioning” or “middle-functioning” (again NOT my choice of words) Autistic people do. I do struggle with the things the majority of Autistic people across the spectrum struggle with though; I have extreme difficult reading non-verbal cues, understanding tone of voice or text, facial expressions…and this can often lead to unintended hurt feelings—whether they be mine or someone else’s. I also struggle very much with sensory issues. Crowds, loud noises, squishy, rubbery textures, and certain smells can set off a panic attack and/or meltdown in me. I often have to wear headphones if I know something like construction is going to occur where I live—power tools are my KRYPTONITE!! I also get stressed and overwhelmed extremely easily. I find I have to come up with a lot of strategies and life hacks to keep up with the demands of university life that most don’t have a problem with. These are just to name a few of my struggles—I could be here all day explaining all the ways Autism affects my life, but I got more prompts to catch up on!

23: Synesthesia

Oooo, a fun one! I wish I could say have the really cool synesthesia people talk about in the media a lot—but I don’t 😅 I have associative synesthesia I believe it’s called. Basically, I don’t literally see sounds as colours in my peripheral vision, or literally taste colours when I see them or anything like that. But I do *associate* different stimuli with senses they shouldn’t be related to. There are different subcategories of associative synesthesia, but I don’t have the spoons to explain them here so please Google it haha! Anyway, what I do find is that I associate certain colours with tastes. Blue for instance tastes like icing/frosting/whatever you wanna call it on a cake. Red tastes like sour cherry candies. Yellow tastes like Lucky Charms marshmallows. Another weird synesthesia thing I have is that certain numbers are always certain colours in my mind. 1 is black, 2 is light green, 3 is red, 4 is navy blue etc. Also I read somewhere that this particular thing is synesthesia, though I could be wrong: but as a kid I always associated numbers with certain character archetypes. I even cut out paper dolls of them and played with them! 1 was the “everyman” kind of character. 2 was kinda ditsy and the sidekick to 1, like Patrick from Spongebob. I don’t remember any other numbers in between but I know that 5 was a conniving used carsalesman type of character, and 7 was the logical, rational one that was always trying to get 5 out of trouble—much to his chagrin. Man, this last factoid would’ve fit with the vivid imagination prompt! 🤣🤣🤣

24: Genetic

I don’t know honestly what all to say about this one, sorry! But I do know that while we don’t have *all* the answers yet, Autism does seem to be caused by several genetic factors. It can also run in families. I’m Autistic, 2 of my nephews are Autistic, and there’s a couple other older family members I suspect could be Autistic too—though I’m no clinician.

25: Pets

I grew up with cats all my life!! They have always been my comfort animal and I think it might be because cats remind me a lot of Autistic people: they’re misunderstood as being cold and unfeeling, but if they get to know you they can be your best friend. They can be very loving and show affection in ways you may not understand but should be appreciated regardless. They like quiet, they tend to gravitate towards their “person,” they are typically introverted, and they can get laser focused on an object of interest. My current cat is named Curry, though I call him “Sir Curry” because he’s my knight in fuzzy armour! He always knows how to comfort me when I’m sad, having a meltdown, or panicking. And he makes me laugh and gives the best cuddles! 🥰 🐈‍⬛

26: Fidgeting

I fidget a lot when I am nervous. I’ll typically play with stuff like buttons or zippers on my sweaters, or play with my lanyard that has my student card on it.

27: Stimming

Stimming is something I do A LOT!! For the uninformed, stimming refers to repetitive behaviours in Autistic (and other neurodivergent) people that helps us to regulate our senses and/or emotions. Stimming can be done for a lot of reasons—we might be super happy, we might be overstimulated, we might be *under*stimulated, we might be anxious…it could be any number of reasons, but it’s usually a way to burn off extra energy at least in my case. When I’m really, REALLY happy, I’ll kinda bounce on the ball of my feet or tap my fingers together repeatedly. When I’m excited or nervous, I shake my foot. Sometimes I rock back and forth when I’m sitting as well if I’m happy or nervous. A lot of times though, I’ll have a fidget toy with me! My favourites are any that nake clicky noises or have buttons and switches and such on then, like my fidget cube!!

28: Safe Foods

“Safe foods” refer to foods that Autistic people can eat all the time no problem because we know exactly what to expect from them. Autistic people are often stereotyped as being “picky eaters” but more often than that there’s more to it than just being “picky.” A lot of foods can taste different or have a different texture depending on how fresh it is, how ripe it is, how it’s prepared etc. which is why many Autistic people have trouble with fruits and vegetables. Myself, I don’t have much problem with most fruits and vegetables. I would even go as far to say I’m a bit of a foodie if it weren’t for the fact that I tend to eat small amounts throughout the day instead of 3 square meals a day 😅 However, I do refuse to eat pasta, any kind of noodles, jell-o, pudding or anything similarly squishy and rubbery. I just can’t do it! It makes me gag! 🤢 I also can’t deal with blueberries. The smell alone makes me nauseous!!

29: Empathy

Ahh, another commonly misunderstood aspect of Autism. Despite popular belief, most Autistic people (at least that I know) are *very* empathetic people—myself included! In fact, I would say I feel *too* much empathy, and many Autistic people feel the same. I don’t claim to be a professional so take what I say with a grain of salt and fact check with your own research, but my understanding is that today’s literature on Autism claims that Autistic people usually struggle with specific *types* of empathy rather than empathy altogether. For myself, I struggle to put myself in another person’s “shoes” so to speak. But that doesn’t mean I can’t understand what emotion a person is likely feeling in a given moment. I have an example that isn’t my own experience but rather the experience of another Autistic person I know, but I very much relate to it: When this person was a kid, they saw their mom get hurt and saw that she was in pain. They didn’t know what to do because they couldn’t exactly understand their mom’s perspective, but they understood in general that the mom was in pain and they empathized with that. So they grabbed their favourite comfort toy and offered it to their mom. Now I don’t know about you, but I would certainly call that “empathy” of some kind! I will say though that there *are* some Autistic people who don’t experience empathy at all. However, it’s important to know that lack of empathy does not make a person “evil” or anything. There is more to being a decent human being than empathy after all.

Anyway, that’s all for now! We’re almost done Auctober, I can’t believe it!! It went by so fast aaaaaaa!!!

#auctober2024 #auctober #autism #asd #audhd #disability #actuallyautistic #autism acceptance

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