#i don't remember what people usually tag on these

[humanjarvis]

caught in a lie

synopsis: when you ignore caleb’s calls, he catches you trying to run from the consequences. you make a false promise to appease his anger, not expecting your lie to unravel. but almost immediately, it does.  

tags: based loosely on caleb's "hidden waves" memory, porn with plot, manipulative!caleb x manipulative!reader, brat!reader, mean(ish) dom!caleb, caleb makes out with your cunt for an hour, reader cries, belly bulge, 3 brother mentions but they’re done ironically/out of spite, humiliation, semi-public sex (caleb makes you call and cancel plans with that friend while he fucks you), lines lifted directly from hidden waves in bold pairing: caleb x fem!reader  word count: 3.9k

a/n: love the scene this is based on bc it reminds me of my favorite book from the wattpad era in 300 BC. also this is my first time writing full-on smut and omfg i don't know how people write like 10k of it u guys are wizards. but the response to this will determine how explicitly i write going forward, no pressure

As the Skyhaven nightscape twinkles around you, you can’t help but feel like you’re forgetting something. 

You’d had a great night: Simone had invited you to a cute café, the owners had given you a free muffin, and the raging storm from this afternoon had dwindled into a drizzle. But still, a sense of foreboding loomed over you, threatening to taint the precious memories you’d made tonight.

“...And next week we can go to this new bar downtown! I heard they have the best drinks, and there’s even a puppy mascot they let walk around and play with guests. Doesn’t that sound fun?” 

“Yeah, sure,” you agree absently, Simone’s words going in one ear and out the other. “I’ll be there.”

As you walk farther down the sidewalk, the vibrant city atmosphere melts away your worries. People of all ages were out splashing in leftover puddles, trying new food stalls, and window shopping in the strip of stores that lit your path. Gradually, you give up on trying to place your unease, surrendering fully to the comfort of the cool night air.

“Hey!” you exclaim, an idea popping into your head. “Do you want to find a photobooth and take some pictures? I want something to remember tonight by.”

“Oh my gosh, absolutely,” Simone responds. “There should be one not too far from here. I went with my brother a few months back! It was really fun.”

At her words, you stop in your tracks. Her enthusiasm is no match for the dread building in your chest. 

Caleb.

Caleb who’d told you to text him when you got to the café, when you were about to leave, and when you were almost home. 

Caleb was what—or who—you were forgetting.

Slowly, you reach your hand into your purse until you feel your phone, digging it out and staring as if it were a venomous animal. Taking a deep breath, you tap the screen awake and immediately lose the air you’d just inhaled. 

7 Unread messages

4 Missed calls

3 New voicemails

Fuck.

“Uh, actually,” you start, chucking the device back into your bag, “I just realized I didn’t bring a brush! There’s no way I can take pictures without fixing my hair—it’s like a bird’s nest up there,” you ramble, giggling nervously. “Can we end the night here?”

“O…kay?” Simone says, clearly confused by the sudden shift in your mood. “Yeah, we can go back now. Your hair looks fine, though.”

Thanking the universe for giving you such an agreeable friend, you walk back to her car, the quickness of your usually unhurried steps betraying your agitation.

He’s gonna kill me, he’s gonna kill me, he’s gonna kill me, you think. 

As the familiar outline of Simone’s car comes into view, she turns to face you. “Do you want a ride to the train station? I told my girlfriend I’d be home at 1:30—I have another hour.”

“Wait!” you cry, throwing your hands out in front of you. She looks at you as if the intensity in your voice is unnecessary. Which is true, because she’s standing a foot away. Quieter this time, you ask, “Would it be okay if I spent the night at your place? Just this once, I promise.” 

“...If you really need to,” she agrees warily. “As long as you don’t mind cat hair.”

When you reach her car, Simone gestures for you to wait as she walks around to the passenger’s side. “I just need to clean up real quick. The granola bar wrappers build up when you’re constantly called in early for emergencies.” 

But when Simone pulls on the door handle, it doesn’t open. “Weird,” she mutters, wiping raindrops onto her jeans. “I swear I unlocked it.” 

She clicks a button on her keys and tries again. Inexplicably, the door still doesn’t budge. “It’s like some force is holding it shut or something,” she says. At that, an alarm sounds in the back of your mind. But before it can reach your consciousness, she continues. “Well, I have a locksmith on speed dial anyway—I’m always losing my keys. But before I call, seriously, are you ok? The way you asked me to stay over….Is there something scary waiting for you at home? Why do you look so worried?”

"It’s probably because I’m home,” the all-too-familiar voice rings out behind you. 

In an instant, your entire body goes rigid. Your now-pounding heart screams at you to run, but you can’t obey without making a scene in front of your friend. 

Plastering a smile on your face, you turn around slowly, as if the longer you took to face him, the more likely he’d be to disappear.  

You had no such luck. Towering over you, umbrella in hand, was Caleb, his normally expressive face a wall of stone. 

Despite his obvious anger, he steps forward to shield you from the downpour and you refrain from taking a step back—against your better judgment.

“Caleb!” you remark, your voice shrill with unease. “What a surprise!”

Ignoring your greeting, Caleb turns his attention to Simone. “Skyhaven isn’t very safe tonight,” he says coolly. “You’d better get home.”

The finality in his words makes it clear: you won’t be joining her. 

“Um, sure,” Simone trails off, wary eyes searching yours. “Will you be alright?”

“...Yes, it’s okay.”

Though your words don’t seem to convince her, Caleb’s penetrating glare does. She quickly walks to the driver’s side and effortlessly pops the door open—surprise, surprise—before jumping in. Giving you one last look, your only chance at salvation drives into the night.

The ride back to Caleb’s house is silent. You scoot as close as you can to the window beside you, paying no mind to the intensifying patter of rain against the glass. All that you notice is how he grips the steering wheel tight enough for his knuckles to turn white. 

When you pull into his driveway and exit the car, he walks closely behind you, preventing any more last-minute escape attempts. His imposing presence follows you inside and all the way to his bedroom. 

When you both cross the threshold, the air thickens with tension as you stand in silence, unmoving. 

“Well, goodnight!” you call when you can’t take it anymore. But before you can take one step, Caleb swings the door shut with his Evol. Huh, you think. Doors must be his speciality tonight.

“Where do you think you could possibly be going after the night you gave me?” he asks, steely voice cutting through your thoughts.

“Listen—” you start, but he cuts you off. 

“You ordered coffee three times. Burst out into laughter I could hear from outside six times. And yet, you somehow managed to check your phone zero times.”

“If you’d just given me more time, I was going to—”

“You were going to what? Because here’s what I think would have happened: If I hadn’t picked you up, you would’ve gone to your friend’s place, right? Then, you’d message me with an apology. Oh, throw in a cute emoji as the cherry on top,” he snorts. 

“With that done, you’d put your phone away and curl up into a ball to sleep. You wouldn’t even dare to check my response. You’d wait it out and believe I wouldn’t be upset. And once I’m away on a mission or somethin’...you would sneak back into the house and pretend nothing happened. Tell me,” he challenges you. “Am I wrong?”

He wasn’t wrong. He was never wrong—not about your habits, at least. 

“Okay, okay, I get it,” you snap. “I thought you said you were ‘done playing games’? You don't have to act so big brother-y all the time.”

Clearly, that was the wrong thing to say. Caleb’s head rears back, his eyes going wide in incredulity before he scoffs. 

Alright, you sigh, time to turn on the waterworks. 

Taking a deep breath, you force tears into your eyes. “Caleb,” you begin, “I really didn’t mean to ignore you. I was just having so much fun. S-someone brought their puppy to the café and I got distracted.” The café hadn’t allowed pets, but you needed all the sympathy you could get. You’d have to thank Simone for telling you about that new bar later. “I won’t do it again. I won’t even go out at night anymore—promise.”

As he takes in your pitiful expression, you see Caleb’s resolve start to crack, the twitch in his right eye giving away how much he wants to console you. Maintaining your pout, you internally grin like a Cheshire cat. He could never say no to you. He could never le—

Your phone rings.

You thought you’d turned it off in the car, but your fucking phone rings. Right when you have him where you want him. 

The shrill tone sucks the air out of the room, and with it, any hope for your escape.

“Answer it. Speaker.” His voice leaves no room for argument.

Visibly shaken, you fish your phone out of your bag and accept the call. “H-hello?”

“Hey Y/N, it’s Simone. I’m calling to check on you—that guy who took you home was kinda scary. I just wanted to make sure he didn’t do anything. Are you okay?”

At the insinuation that he’d ever harm you, Caleb’s face turns thunderous, his jaw clenching so hard you’re afraid it’ll snap. 

“No, no, I’m fine,” you reassure her. “Thanks for worrying though, that’s really sweet,” you add, your eyes darting up and immediately back down after meeting Caleb’s glower. 

“That’s great, I really was worried,” she says, relief evident in her voice. “Well, before you hang up, are we still on for same time next week at the bar I mentio—”

You hang up as soon as she reveals your plans, throwing your phone so abruptly it bounces off the chair where your purse sits and onto the carpet. But it was too late. There was no sweet-talking the irate scowl off of Caleb’s face. You’d lied. 

Like a deer in headlights, you stand frozen and helpless as Caleb stalks toward you. 

“You almost had me,” he chuckles darkly, squishing your cheeks between one hand. “And I bet you knew it, too. Remind me to thank Simone for being such a good friend later.”

His grip tightens when you try to respond, and he pulls your face closer to his instead. “I think I’ve had enough of you talking for now. No point in hearing it if you’re just gonna lie to me again.”

With uncanny speed, he lifts you by your legs and tosses you onto the mattress. When you attempt to sit up, hoping to crawl away, he captures both of your wrists in his hand and claims your lips in a bruising kiss. 

“Don’t talk.” A kiss. “Don’t move.” Another. “Don’t do anything I don’t tell you to do, and I might not chain you to this bed.” You’re so distracted by his final kiss—the exclamation point—that you barely register when he yanks your loose pants down, baring your cotton panties to him. 

When he spots the wet patch spreading through the middle, he moans, shifting to push his nose into your center. The deep inhales he takes seem to calm him down, and his voice loses some of its earlier edge when he murmurs, “Can’t believe you were keepin’ her from me tonight. Look at how much she missed me.”

He demonstrates by pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your panties, tasting you as you leak harder under his tongue. The whimper you let out falls on deaf ears as you remember his command: Don’t talk. 

Licking a stripe up your clothed folds, Caleb sighs into you in contentment. “Gonna see her in a second,” he breathes. “Just can’t give her too much at once, or she’ll get greedy.” 

He’s too far gone, you think, closing your eyes in preparation of what’s to come. But nothing prepares you for the way the seemingly sedated Caleb rips your panties open at the seam, exposing your hot skin to the cool air. 

With no hesitation, he plants a long kiss onto your core, his lips smacking against the fat of your outer folds. Covering your skin with a flurry of pecks, he moans into you, his intermittent licks becoming sloppy, appreciative kisses. 

Caleb was making out with your cunt like your brain wasn't in the room, kissing it like he hadn’t seen it in years. The sensations and lewd squelches make your arousal unbearable, but when you try to grind into his mouth—to get him to do something more—he pushes your hips into the mattress. 

“Don’t interrupt us,” he mumbles, lips still latched onto your unspread cunt. Heat rushing to your cheeks, you flop your head back down, defeated as the man ignores you to have his heartfelt reunion with your core. 

An agonizing few minutes later, you feel him press a last hard kiss against your skin before finally spreading your soaked folds. “Can’t believe you ever thought you could hide from me,” he growls, eyes sparkling. “I’ll show you you can’t. Make you never want to again.”

Slowly, he licks up and down your wetness, teasing his tongue around your entrance. You try to relax during his ministrations, knowing he won’t give you what you want this early, but he catches you off guard when he buries his tongue into your weeping, sputtering hole. 

A strangled moan escapes you as he fucks you with his tongue, twisting, turning, and circling himself inside you. 

One pulse has your walls flexing with desperation, and Caleb pulls back slightly when he feels you tighten around him. “Look at that, I think she’s kissin’ me back,” he coos, a string of his saliva refusing to part from your quivering cunt. 

Spurred on by the whine you give him, he flashes you a wicked grin before diving back in, plunging his tongue in and out at a punishing pace. 

All the while, he studiously avoids where you need him most, licking and kissing everywhere but your twitching clit—neglecting it like you did him earlier in the night.

Suddenly, he lifts his head up, flashing you a quick smirk. “You know,” he starts, licking his glistening lips. “When you were givin’ me all those crocodile tears and cryin’ about puppies earlier, you never did say sorry for trying to run. How about now, hmm?” he asks, pressing a wet kiss to your center. “You sorry?”

You pant out an incoherent moan, and he nips at your clit—the first time he’s touched it all night. Ignoring your squeal, he gives you another kiss. “I don’t know what that means. Try again.” 

You go to speak again, but Caleb suddenly rubs his nose against your clit, your resulting gasp sending your back shooting off the bed. He swiftly slams you back down with his Evol, giving you another nip. “Just two words, baby. You can do that for me, yeah? Two words, loud and clear. Want to know you mean it.”

You don’t know what it is—the last strands of your pride clinging on for dear life, your stupor after being toyed with for almost an hour, or pure stubbornness—but you can’t bring yourself to say it. With a whimper, you clamp your mouth shut, staring at the ceiling in rebellion. 

“Hmmm,” he hums, looking up at you briefly. Before you can even process it, Caleb covers your clit with his mouth and sucks, simultaneously groaning into you. The combined sensations set your nerves on fire, and you come in his mouth with a prolonged cry. 

“I’m sorry!” you wail, the tears in your eyes genuine this time. As Caleb laps up your release, chants of “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m—oh—I’m sorry,” fall through your lips, your earlier defiance reduced to blubbering submission. “Should’ve checked my phone and called you back, I’m so sorry.” 

You’ve apologized ten times over, it feels, but he won’t let up. He suckles you until it aches, and there’s nothing you can do but lie there and sob as his Evol keeps you pinned down. When he’s finally had his fill, he presses a reverent thank-you kiss to your cunt before crawling up your body, nestling in between your thighs. 

“Aw, none of that, now,” he coos, wiping under your eyes. “I forgive you, alright? I forgive you for getting distracted, baby.” Still crying, you nod frantically, leaning into his gentle touch. “But if you ever run from me again, whoever you’re with won’t like what happens when I catch you,” he promises, pressing a kiss to your lips and then your forehead before plunging into you. 

Though his pace is relentless, your walls draw him in, his earlier date with your cunt letting you take his thick length with ease. 

When the pressure builds and you shy away from his brutal thrusts, he turns your chin toward him, pressing an ironically chaste kiss to your mouth. “No running, remember?” 

As you hurtle toward your release, he leans close, kissing you briefly before speaking into your lips. “The next time you wanna ignore me—next time you wanna hide from me and lie to me sayin’ you’ll be good from now on—I want you to think of this, to think of me right here,” he murmurs, palming his cock through your belly. You squeal at the foreign feeling, but he only adds more force, and you think you’re about to pass out.   

“My baby,” he chides. “Loves to act out but she can’t handle the consequences.” While he speaks, he folds your left leg up, pushing it to your chest so he can penetrate you deeper.

“Please, Caleb!” you beg, the new angle making stars float across your vision. As your body rocks with the force of his strokes, you cry, “I said I was sorry!” 

“Mm, you did,” he nods, absorbing a tear on your cheek with a kiss. “But I don’t think you really are. Not yet.”

Without warning, he pulls out of you and flips you onto your stomach before sliding back in. Resuming his thrusts, he uses his Evol to pick your forgotten phone up off the floor. “Call her back. Speaker,” he orders. 

At first, you're flustered into hesitation, but as he holds the phone ahead of you and taps through your history to do it himself, you pull yourself together. “Wait,” you wail. “Wait. I’ll do it.”

You do it.

When Simone picks up, Caleb shows you mercy by decreasing his pace so the sound of slick skin colliding doesn’t travel through the phone. 

“Hey Y/N, what’s up? Is it about earlier? …Did something happen?” she asks in concern.

Frantically, you twist your head to look up at Caleb, not knowing what to say. 

Leisurely, he folds forward over you, his chest flush with your spine so he can whisper in your ear. Throughout his dramatics, your time to respond without raising suspicion wanes, and you grow more desperate by the second.

“Hi Simone,” Caleb finally whispers, pressing kisses to your ear in time with his languid strokes.

“H-hi Simone,” you repeat louder, a slight tremble in your voice.

“I just wanted to say thanks again for checking in. That guy, the one from earlier—he can be so mean sometimes,” Caleb murmurs, pouting his lips in ridicule. 

“I just wanted…wanted to say thanks again for checking in. The guy from earlier—hah—can be so mean sometimes,” you echo, breathless from the impact of Caleb’s hips rocking into yours.

“Can we reschedule our plans for next week? My big brother’s,” he emphasizes, mocking your earlier jab with two deep thrusts, “coming home, and he really misses me.” As he feeds you lines, the taunts in his words break through the softness of his whispers. 

As softly as you dare to, you whimper for him, hoping it’s enough for him to end his torture.

But as the phone screen goes black from inactivity, you see his smirking reflection looming over your humiliated one. The only way out is by appeasing him. 

“C-can we reschedule our plans for next week? My…my friend—” 

As soon as the word leaves your mouth, Caleb lifts off of you slightly, landing a harsh smack on your ass.

“Y/N? What was that noise? Are you alright?”

“Yes,” you all but moan as he bites your neck, reprimanding you further for breaking his script. 

“My friend is visiting next week, and he really misses me,” you finish, waiting with bated breath for her—and Caleb’s—reactions. 

“Oh…sure, Y/N. That’s fine with me. That’s a lot better than I was expecting, you sounded like you were in trouble for a second.” Caleb smirks against your ear. “Just let me know when you want to reschedule.”

“Sounds good,” you breathe as Caleb’s thrusts return to a faster pace. “I-I gotta go, I’ll see you later!” you rush, almost squealing as you end the call. 

For the nth time that night, you want to burst into tears. “I can’t believe you just did that,” you whine, your voice mixing with the renewed slaps of skin on skin. 

Chuckling, Caleb lifts off of you, his sudden absence from your cunt making you shudder. In an instant, he flips you over so you’re face-to-face before entering you again. 

“Technically, you just did that,” he smirks, his thrusts now lazy and sporadic. “I don’t remember pressing ‘call.’” His matter-of-fact tone is teasing, but you knew that if you hadn’t canceled on Simone, he’d have made good on his earlier threat. He always does. 

As you open your mouth to retort, Caleb’s face grows serious, and all your neurons responsible for making witty comebacks seem to atrophy at once. 

Caleb leans down, light bites on your throat punctuating his confession. “I can’t stop at wanting you not to run from me anymore. I want you to stay with me. To choose to, for as long as we live, for the next hundred years.” 

“But what if…” you trail off, but he understands what you’d been implying. 

At that, his eyes darken. Rutting into you with renewed fervor, he grasps your chin tightly, holding you captive in his gaze. “You’ll be around for however many years I’m alive and kicking,” he growls. And you believe him. 

Nerves alight, mind numb, and core throbbing from your impending climax, you nod as much as his iron grip allows you to. “I’ll stay,” you whisper, kissing his thumb near your lip. “Wanna stay—with you.” 

Letting out a strangled huff, Caleb surges forward, his lips meeting yours in a searing kiss. He bites your bottom lip as he presses down on your stomach once again, and you careen over the edge, feeling the hot spurts of his release intensify the flood inside your cunt. 

With a shuttering groan, Caleb collapses to your left, immediately closing the space between you with a hug. You stay like that for a while, your sore body curled into his arms as you face each other on the bed. 

“You okay?” he asks quietly, rubbing circles into your hip. “I know it was a bit much.”

“Forgive you,” you mumble into his chest. “Felt good.”

He chuckles, tapping your nose twice. “You shouldn’t forgive me so easily. Or else I’ll want to keep testing your limits.” 

When you fall asleep in his warm embrace, Caleb looks down at you intently, trying to brand the visual into any part of his commandeered mind that’d take it. Daring to disrupt the image, he gently untangles your bodies, lifting you before laying you back down on top of him. 

At peace for the first time that night, Caleb looks out the window, smiling to himself. The rain has stopped.

[the-kr8tor]

Hello! I've just recently found your work and honestly, it's honestly so sweet. You capture Hobie's character and manner of affections perfectly <3 I wanted to request for a Hobie x reader, wherein the reader isn't really one for physical affection but warms up to him specifically? Like, they're close, but reader tends to keep themself at a distance. It goes from an accidental hug to intentional shoulder touches, then hand holding & cuddling ? - 💜💛

Thank you so much!!! I hope you like it! ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, spiderwoman! Reader, loser! Hobie, established relationship, CW drinking mention, fluff!

Navigation

Hobie finds you tucked in the corner of the room. You nurse a half empty glass of champagne while confetti rains down on you. The chatter of the spider society party fades in his ears as his eyes hone in on you, smile appearing on his lips the further he gets closer to you. You meet with his eyes as he dodges fellow spider people, a soft smile unconsciously appearing on your usual stoic face.

“Come ‘ere often?” He sidles up next to you, giving you some space to move away, but you don't. You've come a long way from flinching at every movement that comes close to you. He still remembers that you barely glance his way, now you're gazing into his eyes, not afraid of getting lost in them unlike him, who's drowning from the sight of it.

“I work here too, you know.”

“You get paid for this? Shit, who do I have to talk to to get my money ‘round ‘ere?”

Your laughter is soft amidst the noise of the party. Hobie's smile brightens as you accidentally nudge his shoulder with your own.

“I didn't know you could laugh, love.”

You roll your eyes, face returning to the usual look you have. “I can get angry too.”

“Really? I thought the green hulking man had that patented.”

Poking his bicep, you narrow your eyes at him. Even with the threatening look he still smiles at you, grinning even wider than before as his eyes shine with excitement. “Please, where'd you think he got it from?”

“You tellin’ me that you can get big and green too?”

Your guffaw echoes above the music, a few heads turn towards you and Hobie but they let you be with a few concerned looks at the usual stoic spider. Hobie's chest feels warm and his cheeks feel aflame as he holds onto your shoulder once you're starting to wobble on your feet, and laughing so hard that you're clutching at your stomach.

“Bloody hell, how much have you had, love?”

You chuckle, the smile remaining on your lips as you look at his warm hands on you and over to his handsome face. Plucking a confetti off of his head, you step closer, an unprecedented act from you that has Hobie inhaling deeply.

“Enough to find you funny.”

“That hurts,” you laugh again. “That really hurts, love! I felt my heart breakin’—” you suddenly place your palm on his chest, and his breath gets stuck in his throat.

“It's still beating, Hobie. It means that it's still whole.” Just like how he taught yours was, underneath all the ice and cold façade, he managed to chisel his way into yours. It took some time, but he's a patient man.

Hobie's exhale trembles as his hand inches towards your waist, shaking with trepidation until you wretch his hand towards you, tugging at him until his hand cups your hip. He lets out a whimpered swear.

“You okay over there?” You ask, head tilting teasingly.

“You’re—” he lets out a breath, palm reaching to your cheek, knuckles grazing along your jaw as you lean against his touch.

“Am I what?”

“Stunnin'.” He says breathlessly.

For once, he has you flustered. “How much did you have, Hobie?”

“I didn't drink.”

A grin spreads across your lips. “I didn't either,” you raise your glass. “This is apple juice.”

Hobie chortles, laughing together with him in tandem as you two hold each other in that little corner of the society.

[sentient-magpie]

relax all the muscles in my face

[lucabyte]

On autonomy, and what it means to be Obliged to Help.

Bonus:

[sciderman]

I swear I have read your big post regarding Peter Parker's neurodivergence and why it is best to avoid labelling him, but he definitely has a weird brain

Can't find it and feel kinda sad about it cuz I deeply related to it

i know exactly which post you're talking about and i can't find it either! i've raked through my archive, and it's just - nowhere to be seen. i think tumblr eated it (it happens.)

really, tumblr's search functionality is so so useless, i don't know what to tell you. there are plenty of keywords i can search to find it that post, but the search functionality actually just does not work!

undiagnosed audhd-addled peter parker, my darling, my light, my life, my everything.

i think peter parker's such an interesting creature to write, because a lot of people will point to a certain behaviour about him and say "this is an autistic thing, right?" but a lot of those behaviours are actually, in my head, tied to certain traumas in peter's life too.

people say "oh, the food thing, peter's a picky eater because he's autistic" and yes, absolutely. but also it's tied to his trauma with his parents.

peter gets overstimulated, and yes, it's an autism thing, but also he was bitten by a radioactive spider and his senses are dialled to 11.

it's a similar case i've found for myself, too – where a lot of friends i have kind of diagnose me because i have autistic traits, but actually - i'm hesitant to claim the label or pursue diagnosis because, actually, i know where these certain behaviours come from, and they come from certain traumas. there are events i can pinpoint in my life and say "yep. that's where this behaviour comes from."

so - i think there's a lot of overlap between trauma and autistic traits. the brain is very complex! i think the reason for that overlap is maybe as simple as the fact that people with autism and people with trauma are both doing the same thing - developing behaviours to protect themselves or soothe themselves. so - i think it's nice to be able to see a character like peter parker, who may or may not be autistic, but recognise behaviours in him and see yourself in him.

people who go undiagnosed for whatever reason - people who are really good at masking - so good, in fact, that they have no idea they might be on the spectrum - everyone and anyone at all can look at peter parker and recognise themselves. because i think we discredit the thought that every single brain does the same thing! develops certain behaviours in order to survive. every brain has that same software - we've just all been faced with different hardships that we need to overcome, and that's were all the differences come in.

autism is a spectrum, i guess - everyone falls into it to some degree. and i think events in your life probably push you along on it. but i don't know, i didn't study brain science. probably what i'm saying is very stupid and uninformed. of course there's brain chemistry involved. but i know people in my life living with autism and certain events in their life have exacerbated certain behaviours or made coping with it a lot more difficult. so maybe trauma is a catalyst.

[satohqbanana]

Hello! Here's my review. I'm quite frank about what I like and I don't like. I hope I worded things respectfully enough.

I really like the start you had for this. It really set the mood well. I also appreciate how you space out thoughts; I think having lots of paragraphs help with communicating your ideas.

There's a lot of points where I got confused, because there's too much information being communicated at a time, particularly when dialogue is involved. I don't usually remember names well, and it definitely didn't help once you introduced so many characters in quick succession. (The remark about the two Sarah's is too real though. XD)

Also, I see that the italics are pure, unfiltered thoughts, while regular text focus more on actions. But I feel quite unsure about this style due to the nature of first person POV, which already should be able to capture the thoughts of a person. In particular, this is such an amazing non-italicized paragraph you have right here:

They were all the same! The same people, the same problems, the same way they were handled and following drama all of them kept causing, and the people who were acting in… ways because of unnecessary competition.

It's already very emotionally charged. The italics would make it more dramatic than I think is necessary.

I recognize bits and pieces of the ideas you're trying to express in this snippet: Rosena feels unmotivated about school after having to be separated from her friends, she doesn't get along too well with some of her classmates, they rile her up over her disability, and naturally she gets upset and shows a bit of her power, but true to being bullied she worries that she'll have to take responsibility for consequences the bully asked for. I connect with the base idea as someone who'd been bullied for being allegedly* autistic. (*I don't have a formal diagnosis.)

But my journey through it was just mostly me going, "???" I didn't connect with the story as much as I'd like to or as I thought I would. I don't know which names are important right now other than Rosena, her siblings Mira and Mather, and maybe Miranda. I'm not interested enough in Rosena's powers. Maybe your style right now just isn't for me.

Thank you nonetheless for linking this to me and for continuing to tag me in your posts about your project. :)

INTERDIMENSIONAL BOOK 1: SEARCH FOR THE LEGENDARIES (CHAPTER 1 PREVIEW)

Chapter 1: Rosena #1

---

It was silent.

No noise of any cars passing by. No more of the sleep-talking of my siblings across the room. Not even the sound of the crows that lived on the single tree across the street.

It was all silent. Peaceful and nerve-wracking.

Except, the noisy thoughts, filling my head again. Thoughts I didn't want to deal with at that moment.

They made it impossible to close my eyes.

I had my final tests these two weeks. I had to rest up and prepare for them. Had to get high enough scores to leave this one. Possibly this place as a whole even.

But did I really have to leave?

Everyone left after all. Ella, Sky, even Tom...sort of. Why couldn't I?

Because it hurt? Or was it just my stubbornness?

I didn't know. Honestly, didn't want to think about it either.

I instead peeked my head through the covers, hugging Lily and Poppy close to my chest.

It was still kind of dark outside, but some of the early morning light came through, strong enough for me to notice.

I took my medallion out of my shirt, feeling its slight coldness. Then I held it out. The blue gem on it lightly shone, the same color as outside. It was beautiful, and felt cool, refreshing even.

I sighed.

Anytime now-

"Rose! Mira! Mather! Wake up kids! You're gonna be late for school!"

-She could cone...

It was my mom, Susane Freze.

Her impatient voice came from nearby. Too nearby actually.

I immeditially buried my head under the covers, as the door creaked open.

I shifted slightly, trying to hide my face.

I was already awake. Had been for awhile.

I was going to try and conince her that I couldn't to go to school today. I didn't want to. Exam days were one thing, I didn't have the energy or the patience for two more weeks besides them.

After all... What was the point? 

What was the point in trying and thinking things can be different, better even, when they didn't?

Everything was going to be the same. Those people, my classmates, "friends" even, were going to act the same way.

"I know you're awake, Rose."

I didn't respond. Maybe pretending to be sick would help convince her?

"Rose, I know it. You moved!" She repeated, and pulled my covers off my head.

"Noo! Please-"

My protests didn't work, as I had to try hiding my face with my stuffed animals, and stay still. Sadly, Poppy and Lily were too small, and she found me out.

"Good morning, Rose." Mom said in a quieter voice. "You get up and prepare. And I'll wake up the twins."

I weakly smiled and raised my head. Could a fake sneeze help?

How do you fake sneeze?

"Good morning too." I said with a yawn. "Can I....um...?"

Before I could speak another word, mom had moved over to my siblings' bunk beds.

"Mira! Mather! Mira!!! Mather!!!"

"Uhh...you gotta leave him, Ivy. Hmmnm! Do it for yourself!...."

"Ollie! Defend the tower!"

They won't wake up that easily. They're lost in TVland and Gameland. I can take sometime when she's busy with them, and...

I let my head fall back to the pillow.

The effects of sleeplessness always settled in when I least wanted. Why did it wait to weigh in until I made the slightest attempt of getting up but not when I was trying to sleep?

"Coming..." Mira's drowsy response came. "After sis..." 

No you did not!

"But Rose already-" My mom stopped. Her voice came from closer again. "Rose! You've to get up!"

"I'm not feeling well." I weakly said and tried to add realistic coughs.

"I see that." She said in a mix of tiredness and understanding in her voice. "You can rest and take your test tomorrow maybe?"

Test? What test? It was on Monday! Wasn't that- Today was supposed to be free! It's... It's Monday? Stupid me!

"I'll handle it." I said as weakly, as I threw myself out of the bed and got to preparing.

When I returned, I grabbed the clothes for my uniform from the top of the chair I left them on, and waited.

Mather wasn't up yet!

At least it sounded like Mira was going to shake him awake.

"Brooo! Wake up! Wake! Up! Bro! Wake!!! Up!!!"

"Ahhh! Alright alright sis." My brother yawned. "It's still early."

"Yeah. We've got the math test today!"

"...Can't we have it tomorrow?"

"I wish!!!"

No. Let's just get this over with. Please...

"But we can't." I sat back to my bed. "So can you let us dress up?"

"Fine!" Mather climbed down his bed, grabbed his clothes and left, as I also got to prepare in peace.

But I forgot a small detail. By "small detail" I mean my little sister's presence.

"You don't seem okay sis?" She asked, too close to my face for comfort. "What's up?"

"O-oh nothing! Nothing!" I backed away, hiding ny medallion under the cream white shirt of my uniform.

"It's not just tests, right?"

"They're not." I said with a deep sigh, hoping she'd stop prying. "I'm just...tired."

But of course, like most younger siblings I knew, she didn't. 

"Oh! what's tiring you so much?" She pressed. "Your friends? Mom and dad? Your power-"

"Miracate Freze!" I had no other chance but to raise my voice. "Don't bring that up."

"Okay okay! Sorry!" She agreed witb an small, awkward giggle. "So what did you think about yestrrday's episode? I'm so angry at Ivy! But also at Travis! Like what're they doing?"

"What...were they doing?" I obviliously asked as I packed my bag.

"You don't remember??"

"No?" I didn't really watch it though.

Mira and most of the girls at my class loved the romantic comedy series: Ivy And The Carnation. I watched a few episodes of it so I could have more to talk about with them. It was a lighthearted fun, but not much else. I wasn't supposed to be distracted by a silly show like that in the exams' week.

"Travis got mad! That Ivy went to a fashion show without telling him and Ivy left her passion! So he'd accept her again!" She passionately explained, while brushing her messy black hair. "Like! Like he'll accept you if you don't do it yourself! Get it togather girl!"

I half-heartedly listened her rant, feeling too tired to pay attention to her "too deep for her age" opinions about the show.

"Right!" I smiled at her while tying my brown hair. The ongoing sound of the turned on bathroom tap had stopped. "Now that Mather's out, we can talk more on breakfast."

"Oh he's out?" My sister stood up. "Alright. Should I just wash my face or hair too?"

"I mean you already tied your hair so.."

"Oh right! Right!" She giggled and left. I grabbed both of our bags and moved to the kitchen table, after leaving them by the enterance door.

The breakfast went mostly fine. I already expected that dad wouldn't show up. Why would he wake up so early when he taught his classes in the afternoon?

Did Mather have to make an unnecessary comment about my science test though?

"Not ready for science? Don't let Tom hear that, sis!"

"Not the time Mather."

I shushed him and pretended to stay calm. Pretended to not care.

But he was right, wasn't he? Tom would have probably been disappointed.

I tried to not let Mather's words or the thought of them being true into my head. But it was hard!

After eating, I brushed my teeth, brushing before breakfast makes no sense; and left with my siblings.

The sun had already risen. Thank the long summer days.

Out of habit, I kept my hand on Mira's arm for the entire way through. Even though I had gotten a sense of the direction after the eight years I've traced school road for, I couldn't be sure.

The weather was so warm and sunny. Where did the chill running up and down my body come from then? The coldness in my chest?

Before we arrived, I took out my medallion's gem again, and held it up with Mira next to me.

It was glistening in the sunlight. But also, but was cold? It was kind of where I expected the chills came from. But I didn't think it'd feel like holding an ice cube with bare hands.

How could this gem even make me feel things!

"What's up with it?" Mather asked, covering the school's view for us.

"It's cold!" Mira said and pulled back her hand. "Like sis' power-"

"Miracate!" I warned her again, more quietly than back home, as I put my medallion back under my shirt. "We don't talk about it!"

"Okay okay! Sorry again!" She finally agreed, but Mather...

"But why? Isn't having a super power cool?"

"No it's not!" I yelled and stormed off towards the school building.

Did they really think having a power was cool? Maybe something simple, like super strength or super speed could be. But not my power. Not when people thought I could freeze, melt or burn their items, or god forbid, them! At least the latter didn't come in outbursts.

They... They'd already made up their mind about me before I had a power, and it made things worse.

"Sis! That's the elementary school side!"

I flinched at Mather's voice and moved away when he tapped  on my shoulder. My breathing turned into quick gasls as I did.

I shouldn't have been acting like this! I should've known the direction! I should've stayed calm and not get carried away!

I swallowed a lump in my throat, as the chilling coldness left. In its place, there was a heavy, burning feeling inside me, tightening around my neck and chest. Choking.

"I know!" I said, more so breathlessly shouted.

I needed to lower my voice! Anyone could be seeing me panic! Any of my classmates! I didn't want to deal with them. Not now! Possobly never!

"I was just...walking around." I tried to say more calmly, taking quick breaths. If my clearly freaked-out voice could be called any "calm" that is.

Get it togather Rose! What are you doing? You're panicking about the smallest things!

I scolded myself, trying to steady my breathing as well, before Mira or Mather noticed.

"You okay sis?" But of course, Mira did. She asked, leaning over to come uncomfortably close to my face again.

"Yeah. Sorry." Mather said in an unsure voice, putting a hand on my shoulder, more gently.

They were probably trying to show concern and support, but it only came off as awkward and like something actually concerning had happened to me.

It was just a little freak-out, about an actually small mistake that shouldn't have made me even react, probably.

'It's...nothing." I softly said, and gave them a smile, or I hoped I did, to reassure them. "A...anyways, let's go..."

"Well, alright."

Mira grabbed my wrist and walked towards the other building in the schoolyard. Mather was right behind us.

I let my sister drag me inside, even if it was emberassing. Being hand-guided to the building I was supposed to know without needing to see after so many years. But I couldn't risk getting lost again or causing another scene.

Mira and Mather left soon after I entered my classroom. Though Mather stayed a moment longer, asking about Bill and Kevin. They probably weren't around yet, like I expected from the empty desk next to mine where Kevin was usually seated.

So Mather left quickly too.

How early were we though? There wasn't much of a noise in the class. Far less than thirty-five people would cause.

And even Miranda and her group, and the impossible-to-miss noise they brought along weren't around. They wouldn't miss a single test day, right? I kind of wished they did, but it was more than unlikely.

No sound of Olivia either, but I kind of expected that. It didn't really matter if she was giving up on the studies or coming to complete them. The result was going to be the same.

I wouldn't have minded if any of them didn't show up.

And as expected of my luck, they all came in one by one.

"You'll do amazing Miranda!"

"Yeah! You're so smart!"

"Can you give us some hints before the test?"

"I know that guys. And sure! Come in close."

Miranda's group walked in, chatting.

They weren't the "popular pretty cheerleaders" or the "rich girls". No, they were the "overly involved, overly competetive" types. The types who didn't accept any opposition in competitions, academic rivalries, and their perfected images. The ones who'd try to mentally wear you down if they saw you as an actual, serious obstacle.

Miranda and Rebecca sat their shared desk right behind me. I assuned the two Sarahs were behind her, and someome else, probably their friends Carrie and Beth, stood next to the desks. They were all whispering among themselves.

They were trying to be as quiet as possible once they settled. And I tried to avoid eavesdropping, but it was impossible not to!

"I worked so hard for this! I'll become the class number one this time and get accepted to the magnet highschool in the city. The best one."

"You got this Miranda."

"Yup! You're the smartest girl in class!"

"Yup! And the smartest in school with Nancy."

"Yeah. Nancy's great too!"

"Yeah. Did you see how she got back to Rose last week?"

"It was her mom though. Nancy's too nice to deal with someone like her."

"Right! Right!"

"Oh yeah! Like Mr. Martinez only gave her project an A because she can't see!'"

"Right? Olivia's computer model was the same amd she barely got a B-!"

"Yeah! And she listens to our answers before taking the tests!"

"Shhh! Don't let her hear that. She'll do that freaky ice thing again."

"What will she do? Freeze our pencils this tine?"

Too bad I heard it all! First of all! Olivia put too many unnecessary decorations on her project! And glitter! Who puts glitter on a computer model when Mr. Martinez said it was supposed to resemble a real computer?! Secondly! You know better than anyone Miranda, how my ears hurt from covering them because of you people in test weeks! And thirdly! Do you think I have any idea of what I'm doing with that power either?

There were far too many thoughts I wanted to yell at them, but I tried to keep it all quiet. I was planning to avoid them all day, unless they directly talked to me. There was no point in causing more drama.

But did Olivia and her "bestie" Mary have to show up and join in?

"So? What're you girlies talking about?" Olivia asked in almost a shout, followed by a fake laughter.

"Oh, hey!" Sarah Warren said, the Sarah with a higher-pitched voice. "We were just talking about the test."

"Yeah!" Miranda cheered. "We were saying how hard we studied for these the entire year!"

I know you did because you constantly talk about it, Miranda. But I don't know about the others.

Her voice was louder than usual, like she wanted for someone to hear. Not me this time probably, since I was right here. There'd be no need for such a noise.

"I mean we did." Mary agreed. "Right, Liv?"

"Yeah! We didn't even watch Ivy And Carnation at all past few weeks!" Olivia said again in sn overly loud and dramatic voice, like that was a huge sacrifice of some sort. "We don't get it easy, like someone!"

You know I'm the same there. Except I don't study on cheating tactics and still fail, Liv.

I quietly sighed and tried to not even utter a word, but they were making it harder.

Before anything could happen though, Bill, Kevin, and even, somehow, Jason and Carl finally showed up; closely followed by our teacher Mrs. Willis.

The early classes passed in a blur, as the teachers let us study as long as we stayed quiet.

I tried to whisper to my deskmate Kevin, to study togather. But it felt strange, to ask him to read what he was studying a bit louder in every class, especially when Miranda and Rebecca were behind me and the teachers specifically asked the class to be quiet. Kevin himself also sounded a bit unwilling at first. He probably wanted to study on his own, but was fine with helping out after.

Despite all that, the classes up to the science test went pretty well. Even the test itself went alright. Although I wished I was able to take the tests in an easier way. Even using the Braille alphabet would be fine instead of with a reader, having to take it after everyone. But then again, the teachers didn't know Braille, I couldn't expect them to know. And I couldn't read or write in regular text. They looked like tiny dots, if that even.

So having someone read the questions for me was the only way out. Except the teachers were so paranoid about the students cheating, something they already did, that they wouldn't read them to me while the others were taking  the tests, but instead have another student...possibly Miranda or Bill, read it to me in front of them when they either start teaching a new topic, or have the students quietly do their own thing.

It was the same in almost every single test. Except P.E and music of course, but the rest.

They were all the same! The same people, the same problems, the same way they were handled and following drama all of them kept causing, and the people who were acting in...ways because of unnecessary competition.

Still, I tried to power through the science test. I couldn't prove Mather right.

After helping me that many times, I couldn't make a mistake that'd disappoint Tom, especially not in his favorite topic: science.

Ah, I wished he hadn't left. Life would've been much essier with him around. He'd listen, give the most sensible advice, and try his best to help me without being in my face about it.

I knew he didn't want to leave, but Tania was right. It was for their own good.

The thought of them though, helped me focus on the test. Friday next week was the twins' birthday. We were going to meet for the first time since the Easter break. Third time ever since they moved last summer. And the only news I wanted to give Tom were good ones.

And I felt good about it when I finished the test.

The teacher, Mr. Wells left after I was done. The others were still chatting about it when I got back to my desk. They were discussing answers. And all of them besides Miranda and Bill, showed clear excitment at the hint of any right answer.

"Rose! Rose!" As soon as I sat down, Daniel came in, with more of slap than a tap on my shoulder. "What was the answer for question twenty-one?"

"Huh...?"

I blankly stared at him, and tilted my head to the side, with no eye contact as usual. Even if I could normally keep, I would've still broken it there.

Bold of you to think I know the questions' number order.

"Um, which one was it?"

I tried to stay polite and calm, so Daniel would leave soon, as usual. Him, and the small crowd forming behind him, were the people who only appeared in my life and talked to me during exam weeks. And only either to ask questions, or to give a snarky comment.

"The one about plant cell!"

"Oh, it was C." I casually said.

"What?"

"H-hey!" I raised my hands defensively at his more aggressive voice, and tried to explain. "Uh, the other organels are found in both animal and plant cells. But Chloroplast is only in plant cells."

"Ah okay." Daniel said and gave another slap-like pat on my shoulder which I hated. "What about question fourteen? Mike and I've been arguing about it for an hour now."

I still don't know which one that is... Also then why didn't you ask it first?!

"Um, again...? Which one?" I tried to ask, too tired of the process to care.

"The lightbulb one right?" Miranda chimed in from behind me with an aggressively loud tone, like she was talking through gritted teeth. "It was A: copper!"

"Oh? That one!" I blinked and turned my attention to her. I couldn't tell if she genuinely believed in her answer and it might be true, or if she was trying to confuse me like before. "Copper is good. But would't silver be a better option?"

"You mean silver's a better conductive than copper?" She asked with a bitter chuckle. "Glad I'd never give you a hint in the exams. Because I can't believe you're really like...this when you don't get support from the teachers hm?!"

It's just a question. Chill please?

"What...?" I stood up, still trying to be quiet. I turned my face away from her, to the blue painted window next to my desk.

She's trying to anger me. It's why she's overreacting. Like why do you care? She's the one who read the questions to me! What are you doing  Miranda? I need to keep calm and not get into trouble because of her! Especially fresh off a test. I need to stay lowkey! At least for these two weeks!

I kept staring at the window and smiled. The bright daylights barely came through the paint coating, but it still gave off a cool, dim blue light in this hot day.

"What are you smiling at?" Miranda tried to press on. I would've been fine ignoring her words, but of course she wouldn't be the only one.

"Y'know, I've had to hang out with her a few times, and you're right Miri." Olivia chimed in, probably from the other side of the class, because nothing else would explain or excuse her volume.

And knowing her, I braced myself for more personalized insults than Miranda's.

"For real! She never studies or does anything, and gets everything from others. And when we tell, she cries!" She then turned to me. "You know it too! That the teachers make tests easier for you just because you can't "see"!"

"If by "make it easier" you mean change the map based or geometric shape based questions, then yes..."  swallowed a lump in my throat as I looked in her general direction. I should've started counting to ten, but my head was getting too full to think about that. "If you mean anything else, no. I get less time than you. I have the noise of the class and teachers while I'm taking a test with someone reading out loud, I mean whispering. And did you know it's unhealthy to cover your ears so much like I have to?"

"Those are not our problems." Miranda said matter-of-factly, even I could see her dramatic hand waving. Weren't you talking about fairness though? "Our problem is that you're acting like this..."

"Acting like... What?" I asked, still keeping myself contained even though it was getting harder.

"Like you're some hero doing some impossible task when you're having it easier just because you can't "see"!" Olivia shouted and came closer. I knew from her long, curly mess of a hair. "And even that's a lie! You say you can't see just to have it easier, because I know you do. You can see!"

"I know you'll say "I didn't say I was blind, I said I can't see". But what's the difference?" Miranda added, with an annoying confidence.

"What?"

"Can she?"

"Was she tricking us all along?"

"Impossible!"

"Not only us but she tricked the teachers and everyone else too!"

What...? How dare you!

I couldn't say a word. I tried to speak, shout, scream at them even, but no sound came out.

My body felt like a stone. Still, unmoving, heavy, cold. And I couldn't do anything besides feel the tears welling up in my eyes and a ringing in my ears that blurred the scandalous chatter around me.

How dare they! What do they think they are? Experts in eye related disabilities? How dare they think they have the "right" to say I was lying about a condition that I went through myself! Not them!

Did they think people only either have to have perfectly healthy eyes, use glasses, or be blind they had had any vision problems? Didn't anything inbetween exist for them?

Besides, how dare they claim they knew my health better than I, myself! Can claim I was lying about it!

They had no idea what they were talking about! And wanted to break someone just because of petty competition!

Or else they wouldn't talk so carelessly!

Who cared about grades, the school play, sports, creativity contests, any rewards, or whatnot! Did it all really worth this?!

Did they know how it felt to hear their parents and other loved ones openly say their "news" upset them? Or have they ever heard their family say they expected much less from them?

Even passing by random kids on the street, have they heard things like "Look at her!" or "What happened to her eyes?"?

Have they had to wait hours on end in hospitals, knowing the doctors would say the exact same thing?

Have they had to read the same three short stories for their entire life, and ask someone to read out loud or help you find an audio of it?

Feeling like you have to memorize everywhere to not get lost on their own?

Feeling like they ask for help too much and wanting to stop? Or wanting to show what they can do themselves?

No

No they have not.

They didn't know how any of it felt. They didn't live through them like I did! They didn't know, but talked like they did! Like they lived the same life and had the same experiences as me!

Like they knew!

They always thought they knew everything! Even the lives of people different from them!

Who did they think they were?!

I felt a fire within me. Burning in my whole heart and overflowing out of it. My teeth gritted, and hands clemched into fists, as I felt a blaze of rage flowing through my body. My chest, face, arms, legs, even fingertips.

Then that fire vanished.

Instead, the icy wave of coldness from earlier came back, stronger. And rushed through my veins fast like a winter storm. Every hint of the burning rage in me, every ember; was replaced by the cold.

The distant, disillisioned, the cruel but gentle cold. Fearsome, but with a comforting familiarity.

It filled me, up to my fingertips again; and shot, no, flowed, out of me.

It felt a bit relieving, like I was letting go of the sudden flare-up of my anger. Relaxing.

Until my sense of hearing came back.

"Not to mention she- Wait! What are you doing?!! What?! Stop!!!" Miranda's scream brought me back to the real world, and Olivia's comment made me realize.

"Ice Princess, I tell ya."

"W-what?!" The coldness changed. It wasn't a relieving flow of a refreshing cold air anymore. It became a stoney chill running up and down my spine, echoing through my body. "W-what did I do?!"

"What did you do?!" Miranda yelled and raised her hand. Her, Olivia, and the others were inching away from me. "See?!"

I didn't see much of a difference from afar, but when I got to touch, I felt it.

Solid, hard, and freezing cold. Miranda's hand, was encased in ice?

"Did... Did I do that...?"

"Yes you did!!" Miranda yelled and raised her hand higher. "What do I do now? This was my writing hand too!!"

The air was heavy. Everyone else had fallen silent. Not even the sound of blowing wind from outside, or the noise of students or teachers' steps on the corridor.

The only things I felt; were the still air, the chill in my spine, and the gazes of my classmates I wish were still invisible to me.

"S-sorry..." I lowered my head, unable to say another word. What else could I even say?

This had never happened before! I thought freezing others was possible but I never thought it would happen! Especially now!

What did I even do?

Could Miranda's hand return to normal?

What if her hand stayed permanently frozen because of me? What if...she'd lose her habd because of me?

Could I help melt it? I didn't know but I could try! She probably won't let me.

How did I even do that?

What happened?

What did I do?

Could this day get any worse?

And it probably could, as the gem in my medallion got freezing cold again, shining so bright it was noticed even under my shirt.

---

(I know there might be some typos I've missed. I only read through it once more after finishing the writing. Anyways! Tagging for reviews (please): @dearunreliablenarrator @daishitheprofessionalfool @avalordream @author-a-holmes @heycerulean @the-ellia-west @seastarblue @literally-just-zay @the-letterbox-archives @sliceoflifeshepard @thecomfywriter @xyoonx @ominous-feychild @writeblrfantasy @yomikunp @illarian-rambling @distantflickering @the-golden-comet @leahnardo-da-veggie @imsoveryveryconfusedatlife @charbroiledchicken and I can't think of anyone else for now. Feel free to tag anyone else as well guys. I'm still hoping (desparate) for reviews. Thank you!💙

[oh-meow-swirls]

i think this was funnier in my head.

[melancholic-pigeon]

Okay this is the *actual* last comment, for real, but I just found out Spider is now smearing me as a convert and accusing me of being involved with drama I was not involved with because he mistakenly attributed my apologies for his public temper tantrum as being about something unrelated.

THIS IS A FALSE ACCUSATION and I do not appreciate having yet another bit of fake malicious intent falsely ascribed to my actions and* attributing a completely unrelated attack to me.

Also, it's very sad and disappointing whenever a Jew gets mad at a convert because something else is going on in the Jew's life and the convert happens to be in the splash zone and the Jew falls over backwards to smear the convert and invalidate her faith.

Just....the childish aggression is making me so, so sad and disappointed, from someone I used to think very highly of, who is now lying about me and publicly smearing me with false accusations based on a conflict he started because he misinterpreted something I said and I went out of my way to give him the benefit of the doubt when trying to clear up the mistake HE MADE that led him to decide bullying and attacking me for three fucking days was appropriate and okay and that I'm the bad guy for saying it's wildly unprofessional to behave like this in public to a former customer face.

Sorry, but facts, reality, linear time and the truth of what I actually said and did are on my side here, and I will not stand for being smeared and attacked and shat all over because I had the gall to try to kindly resolve his uncalled for, unjustified temper tantrum.

I am also not sorry that I left a side note in the tags that it was also unacceptable for HIM to drag his daughter into a stupid internet slapfight based on his own reading comprehension failure. Because it was and is unacceptable, and she needs to hear that message from someone.

End of story. Keep digging that hole as long as you like, Spider. It's not helping your case and is continuing to make you look progressively worse and more unreasonable, and the only person you have to blame is yourself.

*revised for clarity

[elleldoe]

I don't mind at all! I love a good discussion and you made some really good points 💛​

Absolutely, a fic doesn't have to meet all those criteria to be enjoyable, obviously nuance is important here, everyone has preferences, but imo the beauty of fanfiction lies in the creative freedom that comes with it, compared to, for example, traditional publishing that has to follow strict rules. I can't for the life of me remember what the fic was called or who the author was, but I remember reading a oneshot years ago that was part of a writing challenge that didn't allow spell-check or rewriting, so it was riddled with typos, etc. Now, was it good by traditional standards? No. Was it a brilliant piece of art that made my day? Yes!

Tags and summary are the two main factors in my decision-making process. Usually the tags leave me with only a handful of works anyway, or I don't even get as far as narrowing it down because there's only a handful to begin with. Here it might be worth noting that both the things I write, and the things I actively seek out to read, are niche (fandom and/or themes). I have reread my own work countless times simply because I filtered and lo and behold I'm in the only one in the tags (or close to). The other thing would be recommendations, as you've mentioned, people with similar tastes actively recommending works, or passive recommendations by means of bookmarks, reading other works by the same writer, etc.

I definitely see your point on how additionally filtering by kudos/bookmarks/etc., helps when there are lots of works to chose from, tho.

Overall, the idea that things need to be popular to be good, or, on the flipside, that things have to be a certain level of good simply because they reach a certain level of popularity, isn't new, but I feel like there has been an increase in that mentality in fandom spaces over the last years.

This might be a controversial take, but as much as I love Ao3 and consider it superior to other fanfiction sites out there, there is one thing that FFnet did better. Public vs. private stats. I love how the hit count isn't public, only comments, favs, and follows are. And, I love kudos on Ao3, but imo they shouldn't be public either.

[lindwurmkai]

Multiple times recently I have seen microfiction posts get comments along the lines of "this is fake" or "what an elaborate shitpost" or even "good joke, but" and it's so strange?? How do you let someone know that there is a thing called "short fiction" that's like a book but shorter

[medicinemane]

Honestly a lot of the time, it's not even about people having to agree with me, it's about needing to know that they actually heard and listened to what I had to say even if it didn't persuade them

Just... some basic indication that there's enough respect to give a shit about what I said, and also to make sure that they disagree because they actually disagree and not cause they just didn't bother listening

It's all I really ask

[jlf23tumble]

I don't think Louis hates taylor, he's a grown ass adult. And yeah he gave sparky responses to harry getting asked about Taylor and he looked pissed off when she mentioned him in that speech but all that happened 13 years ago. Harry and Taylor seem friendly when in public and he always says positive things about her, why would Louis be different. I actually think they could be good friends, louis and taylor both give off don't fuck with me and tell me how to live my life and how to act and who to date and how to handle my career vibes. They both seem like complete opposites to their ex mr. people pleaser I love everyone and want everyone to love me. Louis should take Doris to one of her shows to shut them all up.

I'm hoping, praying, manifesting, whatever else it takes to see Louis with Doris in August (or whenever) at any TSwift show, I'm here for it on all the levels, and honestly, it doesn't seem laughable or impossible for reasons ranging from rando celeb sightings all over the damn place in her audience all the way to him not actively hating her like he's got an ao3 tab on the worst self-insert fic about "management" open from 13 years ago occupying whatever other myriad thoughts probably truly matter to him in his actual lived real life

[vorakh]

i put on disco music on workplace to make a statement and by now it is eating away my sanity (abba my beloathed) but i'm committed to the bit. the music stays.

[onetwothree-moved]

oc time!!!!

[advestager]

A/I STAN IN THE DASH. I REPEAT A/I STAN GOT THROUGH MY FILTERS INTO THE FUCKIN DASH THIS IS NOT A DRILL

[parad-ice-lostandfound]

bitches hate me 'cause im in my no fucks given era, and I'm like, 'stay mad darling'