#i want to explain cause maybe then… i write??

[pleasureable]

Pink Goes Well with Purple

Summary - After entering in a series of death games, a popstar fallen from grace finds comfort in a certain purple haired stranger.

Warnings - mentions of reader having pink hair (hence the title lol), ooc Thanos?, bad writing, please excuse any grammatical errors, this is pretty short

A/N - this is my first ever attempt at writing fanfiction for a character so I know this story might be hot ass, I just really wanted to jump on the Thanos bandwagon since he's one of my favs from this season and there's not enough fics on here for him to quench my thirst lol

Once a universally loved popstar, the emotional distress caused by the separation from your ex-boyfriend caused you to fall down a rabbit hole of sex and drugs, not to mention the $70,000,000 lawsuit you were slapped with after punching a paparazzi for putting his camera just a tad bit too close to your face. The heavy fallout from the legal battle was enough to make the whole world turn its back on you. Essentially blacklisted from the industry as a whole, you were desperate to rebuild your image (or at least get your money back) in any way you possibly could.

That's when you were approached by a man in a suit offering you $100,000 if you beat him in a game of ddakji. Managing to win 2 out of the 3 games played, you were given your $200,000 as promised by the suit-clad man standing before you.

"You know, I have a simple solution to your debts." he said. You were confused as to how he knew you had debts, you didn't recall mentioning your financial situation to him, at all. You tried to brush his comment off, maybe he had seen your name in a tabloid mentioning your lawsuit somewhere and he recognized you.

"How do you know I'm in debt?"

No answer, he just pulled a card out of the inside pocket in his suit and handed it to you. "We don't have many spots left so if you're interested, please call us as soon as possible." Then, he was gone.

You spent the rest of the day looking at the brown business card given to you, you took notice of the shapes that were on the front of it. The simplistic design of the card was weirdly intriguing. On the back, a phone number. On one hand, you didn't want to be wasting your time. On the other hand, you needed money in order to rebuild your life. So, this could either be the biggest scam or the biggest blessing of your entire life.

Fuck it, you dialed.

You didn't really know it at the time, but that phone call would unleash a chain of events that would change your life, forever.

That's how you winded up in the situation you were in now. Transported to a room designed to simulate a courtyard, a giant doll on the other side of the room.

Suddenly, you heard a voice come up from behind you, "Hey señorita" the deep voice spoke. Turning your head around, your eyes were met with the sight of a tall, purple haired man. "Knew I recognized that pretty pink hair from somewhere. You're that singer that socked that paparazzi guy in the face; Y/N, right?"

"Yes, Y/N. Who are you?" I said back. "You don't know who I am?" He said, a twinge of pretend hurt in his voice. "Am I supposed to?" You always had a slight dislike for people who expected everyone to know who they were. Clearly, this guy was one of those people.

"No, but we can get to know each other. Tell me about yourself, beautiful."

"Are you flirting with me?" a slight smirk began to form on your face. While his attitude was a bit off-putting, he was pretty cute.

"Yo, pink hair, you're so fine

like a bouquet of flowers, all intertwined

You're the rose to my thorn, the petal to my stem

Red, orange, yellow, green

I'm a legend, Thanos"

You giggled at his comically bad attempt at freestyling. "Thanos, huh? I guess that would explain the purple hair. Although, you're not as hideous as the titan."

"I'll take that as a compliment, petal."

Masked men wearing pink jumpsuits began to round up every other person who was dressed in the same blue-green sweatsuit as you and Thanos; you did a quick head count, confirming the amount of people to be about 400. Once a female voice on the intercom explained that you were all going to participate in a game of Red Light Green Light, the big robotic doll began to recite the games' chant.

Red light, a bee had landed on the neck of the girl standing in front of Thanos while the doll was scanning the room for movement. ''There's a bee on you, don't freakout." Instantly, the girl began to swat at her neck in an attempt to get the insect off. While the scene unfolding was slightly amusing to watch, your heart felt like it had stopped once a single bullet pierced her forehead. Her blood had splattered onto Thanos's face, and you watched as his face dropped once her body hit the ground.

Green light, Thanos picked up his cross-shaped necklace and opened it, revealing an array of colorful, circular pills. "Want one, petal? They'll help you relax." Red light, you stood still while staring at the pills in his hands; you had been clean for a little over 3 months now, but pill popping had never sounded better. "Fuck it, give me one."

Green light, he quickly placed a blue colored pill in your hand then grabbed an orange pill for himself. He grabbed your hand and started to lead you both further across the courtyard. Immediately, you began to feel the effects of the mysterious pill you had just ingested. As you continued to advance through the game, your vision became nothing but a colorful kaleidoscopic blur. The sudden energy burst allowed you and Thanos to quickly cross the red finish line, jumping, dancing, and twirling together on the way there.

After the game was over, the remaining players were all taken back to the room where your bunk beds were. You and Thanos were standing against a wall together, giggling at seemingly nothing. "Stick with me from now on, petal. I'll protect you." He said, finishing his statement off with a playful wink. "THE Thanos wants to protect me? Wow, I'm so fucking lucky" you chuckled. "I'm serious! I wouldn't want anything to happen to my flower now, would I?"

You just looked at him with a slight smile. His nickname for you made you blush, your cheeks taking on a subtle hue that matched your hair. He had such a way with words, you couldn't help but be totally charmed by him. "Fine then, let's team up. Thanos the Mad Titan and Y/N, Popstar Fallen from Grace; world's greatest duo." Your words made him smile like an idiot. He loved your company already.

"Of course we're the world's greatest duo. Pink goes well with purple, petal."

[ambitiouspotions]

Could you write a oneshot about a very first kiss between y/n and george weasley, please?💌

LONG AWAITED | GEORGE WEASLEY | ONESHOT REQUEST

summary — in which george f. weasley and y/n’s first kiss finally takes place

word count — 1.1k

warnings — none, fluff!

author’s note — seventh-year students, no house mentioned for reader! thank you for your request! i hope you enjoy!

the start of seventh year, after a long, excruciating, and painfully hot and boring summer, you were waiting to board the train. your mother was snapping away at pictures as you tried to rush her, wanting to meet your group of friends you already saw go past. though the next thing to catch your attention through the spotty speckles the camera flash caused was george weasley looking at you longingly as your mother took the photos. his gaze was so taken by you that the first letter he opened during breakfast the next day was from his mother urging him to tell her who you were, though that was complicated. how does one explain to their mother that the girl they were staring at was merely a friend, no, a schoolmate at most?

you only spent time with him in previous years was when walking to hogsmeade, sitting in the courtyard, passing each other on the way to class, watching him during quidditch matches, stealing glances, and none of that was even spending time with him if his twin brother was right next to him as well. and that time he grabbed your hand when asking if you were alright after fred accidentally sent a textbook flying into your face in the library; that was merely just his more sensitive side showing, not because he liked you. well, maybe, he did like you.

you constantly caught him staring, but if you caught him staring, wouldn’t that mean you wanted to look at him, too? no, he must have been looking elsewhere; there was only one logical explanation: you were overthinking the situation like always. if george liked you he would’ve said something because the twins always tended to never shut their mouths.

and you thought george was cute, but who didn’t? that ginger hair was clipped now, after being a shaggy mop the year before, and had definitely somehow gotten just a little bit taller. your mind paused for a moment.

no, the even the shaggy hair was cute.

stop, stop, bring it in.

wait, how had you noticed he had even gotten taller? you didn’t pay that much attention to him.

yes, you did stop denying it.

you noticed that the hem of his school jumpers had been pulling up more than they normally had, revealing a bit of his stomach each time he raised his arms because he never tucked in his white school shirt like he was supposed to.

the staring at the train station wasn’t the only occurrence this year that made you question your sanity. it was the way you felt when your thigh was pressed up against his while at the three broomsticks in the cramped booth with friends. forced proximity or whatever the romance writers called it in their cheesy stories. then, the instance when fred had forgotten his coat on a windy december day when you all planned to eat lunch outdoors rather than in the great hall. you and george walked in silence, but it seemed like you didn’t need words when working out a comfortable area to sit. it seemed like george was going to say something when he finally relaxed, but that was when fred returned. finally, at the end of january, fred struck up a conversation with you as you were waiting outside of defense against the dark arts class. he had mentioned that the loosened tie around your neck was going to make george swoon if he saw you. you could’ve sworn the moment george sauntered up he had a bit of blush on his cheeks when he saw you.

now, in the present moment, mid-march to be more exact, you were staring into his brown eyes, like it was a color you had never laid your eyes on before. he was holding you close under an awning; the rain was pelting, the wind occasionally bringing the droplets onto you until he noticed and turned your bodies in the opposite direction. his quidditch uniform could take the beating from the rain rather than your soaked wool sweater and pleated skirt. the gryffindor quidditch team had taken another successful win in a rainstorm. your hair was a stringy mess, and the tips of your fingers stung the slightest bit when you tried to curl them from the cold flurries of wind. the only reason you stayed behind in the awful weather was because you saw him alone, waiting outside of the pitch waiting for the rain to die down for only a moment. all the other students were running from the pitch to find shelter at the castle. then there was a moment of peace, no one was here to ruin this one moment that assured you that you were not going mad or overthinking or even overreacting to the scenarios you had been involved in with him before. this was a satisfying ending to an insecure mind.

george had an initial hesitation, resting his forehead on yours before initiating the kiss. worried that you might not have wanted the same thing. you could see his inner conflict, it was one you knew all too well. the same conflict you struggled with from your sixth year until now. it was the confusion and second-guessing ruling your life that made the kiss so much sweeter. your eyes instinctively closed as he leaned in closer.

your hands were grasping the wet fabric of his maroon robe and one of his hands rested on your hip while the other was holding your lower back to keep you close to him. your lips moved in unison and with his. you savored every second of the thoughtful and intimate gesture. the soothing splatter of the rain creating an unknowingly beautiful atmosphere for the two to share a kiss.

you pulled back breathless, your eyes still closed. your breath just lingering over his lips as he exhaled. within a second you were meeting his lips again and standing a little straighter, having a bit more courage than the time before and taking in the surrounding factors this time. the first kiss was otherworldly, but being able to remember every detail of the second was somehow even more satisfying. george smelled of the earthy rain, the scent of sweat from his match was long washed away. you could feel where his fingerless gloves ended and his fingers began on your hip.

“dear merlin,” george mumbled, pulling away this time. his eyes were wide with delight. your grip loosened on his clothed chest. your face was flushed and he looked to the rain fading to a soft drizzle. with his arm around you, you made your way back to the castle.

[possibilistfanfiction]

ive been in complete brainrot mode about your arcane prompts and the way you write the dynamics between cait vi and jinx. like ive just been thinking about potential scenes in this au so if its okay im just going to list down some suggestions for prompts if that’s okay?

- vi gets brought into the hospital because she spent too long in a burning building trying to rescue as many people as she could (because that’s just the kind of person she is). cait and her argue over how sometimes vi needs to put her own safety first while she treats her wounds.

(I’d actually love to read any prompts where cait just simply cares for vi emotionally/physically cause vi’s backstory too makes me froth…) i just want to put her in my pocket and keep her safe :(

- jinx/vander/vi go to the kiramman’s for that dinner party and jinx/cassandra get along super well cause they collaborate on their embarrassing childhood stories about vi and cait. a joint slay

- a cassandra pov chapter as she notices how serious cait is about vi and the little moments between them and what she thinks about vi.

- maybe a cait focused chapter about how much of an empath she is and how exhausting it is to feel so deeply and try so hard to make everything better for everyone.

Thank you so much for writing this au!

You understand these characters so well and i feel for them so much when i read your work. Your writing carries so much heart and bleeds love practically :’)

it’s been all I’ve been thinking about lately and it brightens up my day immensely when i get a notification that you’ve updated! :)

[is there anything so undoing as a daughter! anyway i tried to work most of these in in some way; cassandra pov for u :) ao3 if u want. (also cait is trans bc since this is my au there's no transphobia & i love her)]

//

caitlyn informs you that she's a girl three days before her tenth birthday. she cries, but she's calm, and tobias is first to take her into his arms and tell her that it's good, that it's lovely, that you'll both do everything you can to see her, to make sure she's seen the way she wants to be, the way she is. you hug her too, so tight, because it's one thing to have a son, to instruct, always, how to be thoughtful, and kind, and use all the privilege your last name carries to do good in the world.

your child is thoughtful, and kind, and determined — in spades — with the set of your brow and the blue of your eyes. you do love your child, without reservation.

caitlyn's lip trembles and you brush back her hair that you'll teach her how to take care of when it starts to grow long; she sniffles and you kiss her forehead. she will grow tall and elegant; you and tobias help her choose her great-grandmother's name and then change all of her records accordingly; you take her shopping for new clothes she picks excitedly, and a few years later she beams when she tries on a pretty, simple lace bra; you ask tobias to explain the medications she needs and help her, when she's small, to keep track of them, until she can do it herself; you hold her hand in recovery after each surgery, where she cries in relief and you wipe her tears with a gentle smile. each new stage of belonging brings with it an ease in her breath that you cherish. she grows to be fierce and funny and brave, and still always gentle.

you love her, and you see her — always, she has been yours; she had grown inside your body and you had held her first, the greatest pride and joy of your life.

but it's something you had never been able to prepare yourself for, in any circumstance: a daughter. she undoes you every day.

//

you first hear the name vi — a nickname, of all things, used formally — one sunny, cold afternoon during a late lunch after caitlyn had come over to shoot skeet, a rare day she'd finished work early.

she tells you about her weekend, how she'd climbed and it was sunny and brilliant and she felt strong.

'with jayce?' you ask.

she nods. 'we met some people we ended up climbing with, too,' she says, which is new. 'they were both really good, and very safe. vi,' she tells you, and her voice goes a little reverent, soft around the edges. 'and her sister,' she tacks on, almost an afterthought but not unkind, just not her focus. she clears her throat, a blush spreading across her cheeks, different from the flush that you're accustomed to when you shoot in the cold together. 'anyway,' she says, and you fight a smile behind a sip of tea, 'what did you and dad think of the opera?'

you laugh, but you're relieved too: no one will ever be good enough for her — not only because of the name she carries, one you had carried all your life too, but because she's a force no one can harm, as long as you have any say.

you don't ask more questions after this vi; you tell her about the opera, and then you shoot some more, one more round. she doesn't miss.

//

when caitlyn was born, you held her tight. all day long, people had been in and out to meet her, and she had been so calm. it's not what you or tobias had wanted, but she was the heir to the kiramman name and so her fortune was already set, far before you had cried in joy at the positive pregnancy test on the bathroom counter, tobias laughing delightedly, and far before she came into this world, with grey eyes that will turn electric blue and strong, tiny hands, clenched perpetually. she was so small and so new, and you handed her off to the nurse in the waning hours of the evening so you could sleep through the night.

not even two hours later, though, as the pain was really started to set in and tobias was dosing off in the chair next to you, the nurse had apologetically brought her back, bundled and screaming, her face splotched with red from crying.

'she won't stop,' the nurse said. 'we've tried everything, but she's keeping the other babies up. i'm sorry.'

you shook your head and took her back into your arms while she wailed as much as her little lungs would allow. you wondered about her, everything, because she was a person and there was so much to learn. you unbuttoned your gown and held her to your bare skin; she stopped crying, just like that. she latched onto your breast, easily, and ate a little, and then fell asleep, little sighs filling the room. tobias looks on in a very exhausted awe; you brought your lips to the crown of her head, the soft tuft of dark hair there that smelled so good, beyond anything you could have ever imaged: yours. she didn't fuss when he placed her in the bassinet a few minutes later; she slept all night, wanting just to be near you.

//

you're in your car, your driver regrettably apologizing as you get stuck in a typical rush hour traffic jam on the freeway, when caitlyn calls, a few weeks later.

'are you stuck in this traffic too?' you guess after she asks what you're doing, if you're free.

she groans. 'i was hoping to get home early, have time to decompress and shower before...'

she trails off, a pause you decide to let rest. she's always needed to tell you things in her own time.

'i have a date tonight,' she confesses, and you can hear the giddiness, the nervousness, through the phone.

you hum. 'oh?'

'yeah,' she says, and you stop yourself from chiding her about the informal word. 'i — she's amazing, mom. i just want it to go well.'

'well, you're a kiramman,' you remind her, the reminder thinly veiled under a tinge of encouragement in your tone. 'i'm sure you'll be quite impressive.'

she sighs; you know it's not the reassurance she wanted, but your family doesn't always have that luxury. she doesn't tell you anything else — instead you talk about the upcoming council vote on your latest bill, and how her meeting at work about funding cancer treatments went — and, of course, you don't ask.

//

tobias, always softer than you, especially with your daughter, asks after this vi on sunday. you meet caitlyn for brunch at your usual monthly spot, your mimosas already poured and cortados prepared as you sit down at your table.

'next month, just bring vi,' tobias says when he notices caitlyn's fire department sweatshirt underneath her peacoat. it's not too nice a restaurant for her jeans, boots, and a crew neck, but you are not normal patrons. he laughs when he says it, not disapproving in the slightest, a smirk on his face when you understand the implication: caitlyn had come from vi's home this morning, rather than her own apartment.

'it's serious, then?' you ask, and you try not to feel slighted that tobias seems to know far more about caitlyn's feelings, and vi's existence, than you: it's your own doing.

caitlyn fiddles with the corner of her napkin. 'yes,' she decides on, her smile small and tender, her shoulders soft. 'i'd like if you met her. i... well, i hope she'll be around for a long time.'

you suppose it was bound to happen: caitlyn is beautiful and smart and driven, talented and successful and, most importantly, good.

'we should meet her, then,' you decide.

//

caitlyn was in her first year of college the first time she brought home a girlfriend. you're sure she'd had girlfriends over before, a few of her friends throughout the years of secondary school giggling too much to just be interested in hanging out, as they say, but you hadn't prodded and she hadn't said. you'd always left that up to tobias, who still called her sprout and spent afternoons on long walks with her and the dogs, a daughter somehow easier to handle for him.

during winter holiday, even though university is just an hour away from your home, she brought home a girlfriend for winter holiday. this girl's family lived far away, and, for most, it's expensive to travel that distance, and so, ever generous, caitlyn invited her. you had agreed, if only because it was proper and you didn't want a fight before she even arrived.

the girl, for the most part, was uninteresting, if polite. caitlyn was enamored, but you trusted it would fade. she had been distinctly sad when she arrived home for summer break, informing you — tobias already knew, although he didn't have much of a clue about caitlyn's grades or extracurricular involvement — one day hunting that she and this girlfriend had broken things off. she'd not given you any real reason, just that it didn't work out, but you'd seen her frowning at the kiramman coat of arms engraved into a bullet. she'd loaded her gun, though, her favorite hunting rifle, when she spotted a hare, and shot perfectly without pause.

//

'and what is vi short for?' you ask, doing your best to not stare at the face tattoo caitlyn's very serious girlfriend has of her own nickname.

'oh, uh,' she responds, looks at cait and then rubs the back of her neck.

her hair is messy and asymmetrical, and the t-shirt she's wearing is quite nice, tucked into similarly nice slacks, and her belt matches the loafers you're absolutely sure are caitlyn's because you yourself had bought them for her for her last birthday — but there are more tattoos over the backs of her arms, disappearing under her shirt and emerging again on her neck. you do your best not to judge — and you don't judge people, especially your constituents — but vi is not just a person in your life. caitlyn, allegedly according to tobias, is in love with her, only a few months in.

'violet,' caitlyn says, squeezing her hand not-very-discreetly under the table, a degree of reverence in her voice that has tobias looking your way with his brows raised. 'but she prefers vi.'

you might think that vi is certainly not good enough in any way for your daughter, but you also won't force a name down someone's throat: you didn't do it with your own child, and you would never do it now. 'vi, then.'

she nods, thankful, and looks to caitlyn's hands to figure out which fork to use when your salads are delivered. unfortunately, for just a moment, it's endearing, and when caitlyn smiles, proudly, later on while vi talks about her work as a firefighter, detailing one of her latest calls where she was able to carry two children out of a burning apartment as it collapsed, nonchalant and humble about the whole thing, you see a sliver of what caitlyn does: someone brave, heroic, steadfast in her selflessness — a partner. vi eats four of the small desserts when they get placed on an elegant tray in the middle of the table; caitlyn just laughs.

//

when caitlyn turned twelve, she tried to run away. tobias, as you both frantically looked for her, hours before her party, had insisted it wasn't about her everyday life: her peers at school had been accepting and kind this year, even if she wasn't always good at making friends, and her teachers spoke highly of her performance and participation in classes; her puberty blockers had, so far, worked wonderfully, without any averse side effects.

it wasn't hard to find her, mostly because there are few places caitlyn loved more than the stables on your property; she was less interested in the horses than she was spending time with your hunting dogs. they had loved her for years, because she was always sneaking them bits of chicken from the kitchens, and also because she loved them: dogs can tell those sorts of things, you're sure.

you had found her, curled up in the hay loft, her eyes red rimmed from crying, snuggled up between the dogs, sniffling a little in her sleep. her party, an annual affair, was slated to begin in a few hours. but still, tobias had turned to you and led you out of the stables by the hand. caitlyn's presents, all kinds of gadgets she'd been interested in, and new books and toys, as well as a beautiful gown for the event, were abandoned in her room. 'just let her have a few more minutes,' he'd said, glancing back at her. you are in charge of so much, responsible for so many: caitlyn's childhood, while full of the pressures of her name and status, has been, in all the ways you deem most important, full — there are those who, certainly, have it much worse.

but still, you'd agreed, if only because she'd cried herself asleep.

//

vi is, among other things, a gifted rock climber and boxer, a very devoted older sister, a terrible shot — when caitlyn tries to teach her skeet, they end up laughing more than hitting any targets, which no amount of eye rolling on your part seems to dampen — and, you will admit, a loving girlfriend who seems, genuinely, to understand some part of your daughter that you never quite have.

it's caitlyn's birthday, and she will always have your last name, which means there is a party, all chandeliers and champagne, every year in the great room at your home in celebration of her birth. vi shows up on time, with jayce and viktor and mel, looking almost comfortable in a space like this, laughing at a joke mel says and elbowing jayce in the arm, holding viktor's drink while he situates his cane. she's handsome, in a suit you're sure caitlyn had helped her pick and get tailored: her broad shoulders fill out the jacket and her shirt underneath is unbuttoned just enough to look fashionable and not sloppy.

caitlyn is, every year, beautiful, and competent, and kisses vi quickly — still soft, still heavy with promises — before she says hello to her friends and then greets you and tobias with kisses to the cheek and then, less formally, hugs. the gown she wears this year is the same dark as her hair, hugs her hips, and is just on this side of elegant, and you know she'd worn it for one person, and one person only: vi's eyes never seem, truly, to stray from her, no matter how many rounds of boring conversation caitlyn has to wade through.

eventually, when the party is in full swing, you head back to the kitchens to check on the dessert course. you turn the corner and see caitlyn and vi sitting on the counter, in the corner of the kitchen, your head chef ignoring them fully other than a small smile directed in caitlyn's direction when she moans around a bite of grilled cheese, her favorite since she was small. vi takes a bite of her own sandwich, and then says, 'holy shit, cait, you weren't lying,' and caitlyn laughs, relaxed from the champagne she's had, sure, but also different from every other year you've celebrated her coming into the world.

caitlyn ducks her head when vi moves closer, so they're touching all along one side, hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder. the chef delivers a cupcake with a smile, one single candle in it, and then winks.

'happy birthday, baby,' vi says, takes out a lighter from her suit jacket, and lights the candle. caitlyn blows it out, looking younger than you remember in a long time.

//

vi's father immediately reminds you of her: his muscles fill out his dress shirt, and he's brash, laughing heartily with tobias, but a little shy at the same time, when he doesn't know whether or not it's appropriate to eat with his hands.

'it's a burger and fries,' vi's little sister says, rolling her eyes and digging into her own lunch — at a normal cafe near the water and their climbing gym, which caitlyn had insisted upon for this meeting — with no hesitation. she's... interesting, with a messy blue buzzcut and a denim jacket with neon spray paint all over it, shaky hands and big, bright eyes — she looks like vi but younger, softer, a different kind of weary: her own entity entirely. you've heard of her from caitlyn, sure, how she's fun and funny and requires a level of care that vi will always hold sacred, and also from jayce, from has spoken so highly of her studies, how creative and smart she is, how she has, in his words, the genuine potential to change the world. tobias asks after her arm; a few weeks ago she had needed some stitches, and she proudly pulls back the cuff of her jacket and shows him the neat scar. 'excellent work, dr. kiramman the original.'

it gets a laugh out of you, which both caitlyn and vi look a little surprised by, but jinx only grins.

'wanna hear about the time vi was trying to do a flip and her sweatpants ripped right off? she was ten.'

vi groans while vander lets out a hearty chuckle. 'do tell,' you encourage.

it's, perhaps, one of the easiest meals you've shared with caitlyn and vi, if only because they're so mutually mortified at the trading of embarrassing childhood stories between their families like the most precious currency.

'i have to say,' you decide as you're picking up the bill, and then point your last fry at jinx, 'i like her.'

she gives a triumphant ha! to both caitlyn and vi, and then shoots a finger gun in your direction, grinning.

//

caitlyn calls tobias, crying, in the middle of the night. he puts the phone on speaker, because you'd woken too, and because your heart had skipped a beat the moment he answered and you heard caitlyn's sniffle. she tells you that vi was in a building when it collapsed, that they were able to get her out but it took too long, and she's hurt, and unconscious, and just getting to the ER now. she tells you that she's picking up vi's younger sister on her way there, and she asks tobias to come in and she asks you to bring clothes and food tomorrow morning, once they know more of what's happening and how vi is doing.

you don't go back to sleep that night; you wait for any updates from tobias and schedule send emails for the morning, just to have something to do. vi might not be your favorite pick for your daughter, but she's been wholly devoted to caitlyn for two years now, and you know they're planning to put an offer in on a house soon — not subtle in her commitment, despite her best efforts.

eventually, tobias calls to tell you that vi has made it through surgery and, although they'd had to remove her spleen and stop some difficult bleeding in her liver, and despite some broken ribs and a sprained shoulder, she should be just fine. you won't admit it to anyone, but you cry a few tears of relief when you hang up; more than anything, vi makes caitlyn safe and happy, and caitlyn takes great joy in being able to offer the same in return, and you would never want that to be taken from either of them.

//

they have a fight, not soon after, only about a month. caitlyn calls you, furious, even though you're in the middle of preparing one of the most important referendums of the year; she's your daughter, so you answer.

'she's being ridiculous,' she grits into the phone. you give her a moment to gather herself, and then she continues, less aggravated, 'i know it's because she isn't good at letting people help her, and she's worked on it in therapy, i know because we've gone together too.'

you hum gently.

'she's still hurt; her ribs haven't fully healed and she just got her stitches out two weeks ago, and she still gets headaches all the time, and yet today i got home to her building shelves. with a drill and everything! and normally, like, that would be hot —' caitlyn pauses, seemingly carried away for a moment; you don't laugh, just to spare her, but you have to fight it. 'we don't need more shelves right now. i just need her to...'

when she doesn't say anything, seemingly stuck, you suggest, 'let you take care of her?'

she sighs, on the verge of tears. 'then we had an argument. but, yes, all i want to do is take care of her. she had — she had so many unkind, awful things done to her; i saw her films and scans, and — mom.'

'oh, sweetheart,' you say, accepting, understanding, for the first time, the depth of their love: the grief, the pain, the boredom and difficulty and miracle of it all. 'she's stubborn only because it can be scary, to let someone love you so completely. i know how it feels, with your father.'

she sniffles. 'i do, love her like that.'

'you'll show her. she'll let you. just talk to her.'

'do you promise?'

she sounds so young, so small; you've wrapped her up in your arms and promised things much more difficult than reconciliation between the two of them. 'yes, my dear. i promise.'

//

time moves: they have a housewarming and, although you think their brownstone is smaller than necessary, it is beautiful. jinx shows you her basement proudly, and introduces you to her boyfriend? best friend? partner? — you're not quite sure, and her rambling and his adoring laughter at it, hadn't provided any real clarification. you help set out the small finger foods they'd ordered from their favorite lebanese restaurant, and you meet so many of their collective friends. it's a happy day, with a lot of wine, and everyone is in socked feet, and caitlyn wraps her arm around vi's waist and kisses the side of her head during a quiet moment in the hall, just the two of them in their home.

they adopt a dog, a big black and white boy who they're both immediately in love with and who falls asleep with his blocky, soft head on your lap when you sit down one evening with them over the holidays to watch a movie. caitlyn adores him, sends you and tobias pictures of him on their trail runs often; they take him on climbing trips and he enjoys sleeping in the sun.

//

when caitlyn is fourteen, you sat down with her and pressed your grandfather's wedding band into her palm. 'this was, when you were small, supposed to be yours, one day.' it was thick and gold and decidedly more masculine than she'd ever want, but it was gorgeous all the same, with your family's coat of arms inscribed on the inside.

she looked a little troubled by it, sorting out her feelings: what things belong, and what things are just off. you and tobias had never asked for her to explain, only if she wanted to; she told you, years ago, who she was, and you had always believed her.

'i can hold onto it for you,' you told her, 'just in case there's ever anything you end up wanting to do with it. there's no pressure, sweetheart. just know that it's yours.'

she had let out a big breath, relaxed her shoulders from her ears. 'okay,' she told you. 'thanks, mom.'

//

vi and jinx are out of town, on some kind of trip with jinx's partner, and caitlyn hadn't been able to take enough time off of work to go with them. she's over at the house now, moping about, clearly missing the people who have now become her family too, but it's dramatic enough that it's funny.

you're not sure, it's a gamble, but you call her up to your closet. she slumps down on the bench, in running shorts and one of vi's fire department captain — a recent promotion that you think caitlyn had been more excited about than vi herself — sweatshirts; she props one knee up and rests her chin on it, then looks at you expectantly, confused but interested.

'i'm not sure if you remember,' you say, and find it easily in the back of one of your jewelry cases, 'but i thought now might be a good time to give this to you.'

her eyes get big, the same blue as yours, when you put the ring in her hand. you're certain they've both been thinking of it: marriage, everything at the heart of such a union. their love, certainly, is big enough.

'i'm not sure what size violet's ring finger is, but it should be easy to resize, if we need.'

'oh.'

'but —' you rush to say — 'if you had a ring already picked out for her, one she might like better, we can just put this away again.'

she looks away from the ring and up at you, and then she's standing, years of grace and strength, the surest, best shot you know, and hugging you. she's taller, and the crook of her sweatshirt smells very distinctly like vi's cologne and caitlyn's perfume, all at once. 'thank you,' she whispers, teary.

you have so much you could say to deflect, about the horrors of wedding planning or whether or not vi is going to take the kiramman name, but caitlyn is your daughter, and you hold her to you like she's still small, still yours.

//

you straightened the straps of the dress caitlyn had picked out, the first she's ever tried on. she took a deep breath and then raised her eyes to look in the mirror. her hair was still short, although it was growing fast, much to her relief, and her features were delicate already on their own.

caitlyn turned to hug you tight around your waist, bursting into tears. you fought them yourself, instead rubbing gentle circles along her back while she got it all out. eventually, you dried her tears and turned her around to look in the mirror again. 'you are so beautiful, my girl,' you told her, and shushed when she started crying again. 'stand with your back straight,' you instructed, 'and your chest proud. the kiramman women have always been a force, and you will be too.'

she nodded, seriously, and straightened her thin shoulders. even though her lip trembled, a smile made its way through.

//

it's an ordinary day, another lunch, sunny and bright, when they tell you.

'a girl?' you ask, just to make sure you've heard them correctly.

'well, for now, at least,' vi says, sending a wink caitlyn's way, who rolls her eyes and then laughs.

they tell you more details of the adoption that's happening sooner than you can fully wrap your head around; you and tobias the second in the family to know, just after jinx, who had only found out this morning. she was, apparently, immediately thrilled, and tobias echoes the sentiment.

'to the kiramman women who have come before,' you say, after you've hugged both of them tight and ordered a bottle of champagne, 'and to those who will lead us forward, even further.'

caitlyn rolls her eyes and the seriousness, but they're suspiciously wet, and vi wholeheartedly clinks her glass with yours.

later, vi goes to get the car and tobias is settling the bill while you and caitlyn wait outside in the sun. 'prepare for her to be your undoing,' you tell her, serious but with a mirth you can't contain.

caitlyn raises a brow. 'i haven't been that bad.'

you shrug.

'mom.'

you laugh, pat her cheek.

she smiles, so bright. you weren't sure, when she was young, if this would ever be in the cards for her, but her life is beautiful and big, a world any child would be lucky to be loved in.

you hug her again, because you can. 'you are going to be a wonderful mother.'

she's taller than you, much stronger, but she'll always be small; you hold her still. she'll always be yours.

[prettypinkporkchop]

A) if you're a bad person for knowing, I'm a horrible creature for knowing and thirsting over II

Speaking of II...

B) Can you write some angst-ridden II smut? I love your writing!

I LOVE YOU ALREADY frickin bet. Imma get you some II. Okay no... wait... I love you sm. Let's be mutuals. TELL ME WHO YOU ARE BABE.

The Dryer

Description: II, and you are roommates. He's not the kindest to you. He makes you nervous, so you barely associate with him. Well, the dryer broke, and you tried to fix it but got hurt in the process.

Warnings: smut, fingering, curse words, p in v

--------☆☆☆☆☆

Oh, shit. II is going to kill you. You stare around the laundry room at the broken dryer.

Okay.. okay. You can fix this.

You place your laundry basket onto the floor and pull out your phone. Google is great! Oh, it's just the dryer belt. Okay, bet!

You grab II's toolbox and use a screwdriver to pop the top of the dryer off. You notice the belt has snapped. "Okay, easy fix!" You go to reach for the tiny dryer belt when it snaps and pops you in the eye, like... really hard.

"OW, SHIT!" Your hand flies to your eye. You move your hand to try and open your eye, but you can't.

"Shit, shit, shit." You run into the bathroom and look in the mirror.

There is slight bruising underneath and a small gash. It doesn't look that bad, but it sure hurts like hell.

The front door opens, causing you to panic. You cover your eye with your hand and walk into the living room. II is holding his drumsticks and he looks over you.

"The hell?" He asks.

"The dryer broke. I'm so sorry. I tried to fix it, but I,"

He stops you, taking a step forward and gently taking your wrist. "Why would I be mad over that? You should've waited until I came back home. I would've fixed it." He examines your eye. He sighs before taking your wrist gently and pulling you into the kitchen. "Sit." He orders.

You do as told as watch as he opens the freezer, grabbing a frozen bag of veggies and handing it to you.

"Put that on your eye." He says.

Your hand reaches out to take it. You place it over your eye and sit there awkwardly.

"Why did you think I'd get mad at you?" He sits down in front of you.

"Well, you're cranky with me, and it makes me nervous. I don't like it when someone is mad at me." You explain, shyly.

He sighs and leans forward a bit. "I don't hate you. It's just weird having a roommate. Sometimes, you're too perky." He leans back in his chair and eyes you. "But I don't hate you." He smiles.

You're taken aback. He's being kind! What? You both are talking. You're in shock but also happy. And you love the way his lips move when he talks. His smile, his voice, his eyes. Oh my god.

"The dryer breaking isn't your fault. I really wouldn't have blamed you for anything. I would've just fixed it." He chuckles.

--- that night ---

There's a knock on your doorframe, and you jolt up to see II standing there. "Fixed it." He says.

You nod your head and try not to stare at his body. Of course, he's in sweats and no shirt. "Thank you." You reply.

He stands there for a minute, drumming his fingers on the wooden doorframe. "Come on. Let's actually hang out." He walks inside the bedroom and sits next to you on the bed.

You look at him and just try so hard not to stare at his beauty. It's not working. But, you cough and begin somewhere, "want to watch TV?" You grab the remote to the TV on your dresser.

He folds his arms and leans back on the bedframe. "Doesn't sound so bad." He smirks. "What you like? Romance?'' He teases.

You roll your eyes playfully. "No.. maybe. But, I'm picking a horror movie." You smirk and choose a random one.

The whole time, you were lowkey falling asleep. ii kept inching closer, and his fingers would brush against your knee. His shirtless chest is distracting you from the movie, but his warm presence makes you sleepy.

You open your eyes just to see the movie is over. You look next to you and see a sleeping ii. You have your leg draped over him, and his arm is wrapped around your shoulder. You realize you had fallen asleep.

You slowly try to sit up, but II instantly grabs the bottom of your knee, holding your thigh in place against him. His eyes look down at you.

"No." His grip around your thigh tightens.

You blush and get tingles where his touch is. He smells so yummy. You just... ugh...

He catches you staring in his eyes, which prompts him to dip down and kiss you. Your mind races, and you grab the back of his neck and kiss him back. His tongue deepens the kiss, and he grabs your ass pulling you on top of him. You push your hips against his making him grunt.

"Shit.." He mumbles against your mouth.

His quiet curse turned you on even more. You pull away from his lips and move down, kissing his neck. You leave a sloppy trail as he moves his head back to give you more access. His hands tighten on your ass.

"If you don't stop, you're gonna get fucked." He warns in a husky voice.

You don't stop. Instead, you bite a chunk of his neck. He moans and flips you both over. He forces you on your stomach, his hand splayed out on your lower back. He lowers down so that his lips are near your ear.

"I've been wondering how you feel around me." He chuckles. His other hand trails down your side to your ass. He shoves his hand up your pajama pants to grab your ass. "Mm, you're gonna get me addicted aren't you?" He chuckles.

You gulp as you feel his breath on your ear and neck. His hand moves to the waist band of your shorts, and he pulls them off. You feel the cool air around you but yet still feel the heat between your thighs.

He sits up on his knees and flips you over, pulling off your shirt. His eyes sparkle at the sight of your body. "Perfect.." He whispers.

You sit up and palm his hard dick through his sweats. You look up at him to see his head back, slightly rolling and looking down at you with dark eyes. You hook your thumbs in his sweats and pull them down, freeing his erection. The size widens your eyes in slight shock.

He grabs your throat, pushing you down on your back. His other hand slides down to your pussy as he rubs between your wet folds.

Sounds escape your mouth. Your hand comes up to his wrist that's at your throat. You push it down to make him grip your throat harder. He does as you ask, his thumb pushing against a vein and his two fingers dipping inside of you. A lewd noise comes out of your throat, and your hips push upward. He picks up his speed and kisses your lips, making a smug face.

His thumb moves up to rub your clit, sending waves of pleasure through you. You can barely take it anymore. You NEED him. You begin to whimper underneath him.

"Shh.." He whispers. "Cum for me and I'll go in." He smiles.

You nod your head, your eyes closing as the big wave crashes down. You clench around his fingers and shake your body slightly. You step breathing for a moment as you gush around him.

"Good girl." He murmurs, slowing his movements.

You breathe out and shoot your eyes open. That's when his fingers leave you, and he adjusts himself above you. You look up in his eyes to see his already staring at you. The eye contact is intense as he slowly slides into you. He hisses, and one hand grips your waist. You moan loudly, and grip onto his shoulders.

"Shit.." He stops and looks down at you. "Condom." He says breathily.

You shake your head. "Don't stop now." You whimper.

He nods and keeps going. His thrusts slowly get quicker and then turn animalistic. "Oh, fuck." He moans and grabs your legs, pushing them upward toward your head.

You scream out as he's hitting deeper and your g spot. You look up at him, seeing his eyes closed, his head up, and his throat bobbing as he swallows.

"ii.." You moan softly as you feel another orgasm coming.

He looks down at you, making eye contact again, sweat appearing on his chest. His hand comes down to rub your clit.

You come undone, once again, clenching around his cock and milking him.

He growls possessively and moves his hand to grip your hips, moving quickly. "Fuck, you're so tight." He keeps going before pulling out and shooting his cum all over your abdomen.

He plops down next to you on his back, breathing heavy. "Don't think we are a thing after this." He smiles.

"Mmm, I can change your mind." You reply with a wink.

He laughs and looks down at you. "I believe it."

[dykedvonte]

I keep seeing fanarts of ppl's OC's being on the ship, so do you think that if there was 6st crewmember (specifically, another woman) Anya would've been more safe? Like, someone to actually call Jimmy's begaviour out, someone Anya might wanna trust? Is there a possibility something might have changed (even if a little) or it would not have mattered at all?

-💀

I feel like the game would make it part of the commentary on where she would believe and help Anya but still be sort of dismissive? Like the whole “don’t waste time crying and being scared keep going and move on, don’t let him win”. It’s supposed to be positive and reinforcing but sometimes it does more damage in those times of mourning and grief, it feels patronizing, like you don’t understand what you’re going through but they do. Even if they did call out his behavior it’s still on Curly to act and while another voice would help, it’s still 4 against 2 on guys that don’t get it until they have to vs women who always have to.

I don’t mind mouthwashing OCs but I do get a bit bored as they tend to be borderline saviors or like Jimmy aligned. They are either more complicit than Curly or just Jimmy haters for no reason, outside of what the creators know about what he did to Anya. I am never irked by OCs but in a story like mouthwashing you really need to think about what your character adds to the commentary, especially if they are there during the crash. It’s nice to have like characters on Anya’s side more whole heartedly and interesting to see characters who placate Jimmy but sometimes it’s one note.

I can’t and don’t want to police peoples OCs it’s never my intention when I comment on trends I notice, but I do feel like the way people make their OCs interact with these two characters and especially Curly, really show a grave misunderstanding of the narrative and these characters as people vs roles in the story. Still, I know people just make up characters for fun and that’s fine. Great even, but I guys I’m focusing more on OCs that are supposed to have those serious dynamics. My favs tend to be pretty-Tulpar or post-Tulpar au OCs.

The inevitably of the crash is on Jimmy. He did that not because he wasn’t stopped but because all his means to kill Anya were taken. The gun, the axe. Even if Curly did strip him of his co-pilot privileges and try to keep him contained there’s only so many people. An extra body helps but they have jobs they have to do, he’s the only one steering the whole ship and Jimmy would likely have an out: food, bathroom, etc. He’s not new and if he couldn’t crash the ship directly, who’s to say he wouldn’t sabotage something else? A clunker like the Tulpar wouldn’t take much. An extra person helps but it’s just another thing that prolongs what a person like Jimmy is willing to do to shirk responsibility.

It’s more than just needing someone to stand up to him and think that’s what is missing when it comes to inserting a character into the mouthwashing setting.

[mohntilyet]

not to mention the entire antaam fleet like 😭 that was the PERFECT moment to show off what the lords could do!!! The antaam fucked over rivain, theyve been a thorn in the whole nations side for a long time now, they would not pass up a chance for payback via full scale naval warfare so that the veilguard can do what they need to!! Sure dreadnoughts are dangerous but at this point they probably have tricks up their sleeve, thats one of the few things they have!

also wouldn't it be personal because does solas not try to blow up kont-aar because he's trying to 5d chess tevinter and the qunari into destroying each other. like. i know technically this would not be incredible widespread news because the attack was stopped, but i don't think the wonderful citizens of kont-aar would have missed the tsunami that nearly hit them and the shockwave that actually hit them. rumors go around. and i assume irian/vadis tell varric. who i think would tell isabela. who would tell the group she leads. who would care because ofc, they LIVE IN RIVAIN, and now know that solas and his followers thinks they can trade rivaini lives* to further his plans.

*while i also think there's probably a divide between kont-aar and the rest of the nation, it's one that the rivaini love to jump across and back over. an interesting comparison to be made here with most of rivain having similar sentiments towards dairsmuid and the chantry. like this is the country specifically mentioned to have a lot of citizens who follow the qun/are non-andrastian + it being MUCH more multicultural and accepting than other nations. any attack on rivain, even if it's a qunari settlement, would fan a lot of flames that solas cannot put out so the idea of trying to him taking multiple steps back because he didn't realise how intensely the qun/rivaini/lords would react is very fun for me. it would have been soo interesting for rivain to be a hub for efforts against solas because of how it's not influenced by andrastianism, how he (or his agents) specifically fucked them over, and (maddeningly for solas) also part of this resistance has spirits who willingly guide them against him. this could have even been a plot device where the door goes both ways and solas finds out rook's plans because he manages to eavesdrop through a seer or something.

and on the spirits. all the stuff where the mourn watch regularly communicates with spirits could have been done with rivain as well, and with different takes on being 'friendly' with spirits. iirc there's a spirit in the hall of valor which is so interesting but it's literally just there for flavour text. THERE'S A SPIRIT IN THE HALL OF VALOR THAT DOES NOTHING BESIDES LIKE. SAY HI. ??? bioware i would have liked to see more spirits and seers and the matriarchal pantheists you have talked about please. and also the idea of the peaceful qunari settlement being pushed to protect the country they are part of and what that means for them as qunari vs. rivaini. taash's storyline could have contributed to this . so A LOT less about choosing a side, more about how kont-aar has developed, changed, how rivain has influenced it and what it means to be qunari. not the qunari agents and fighters that we have seen, but their 'civillian' way of life in kont-aar.

complete waste not seeing any of established lore reflected in the lords of fortune or rivain because i stupidly actually thought we were going to see some kind of settlement and be introduced to a very different cultural norms.. in my beautiful mind i like to think taash is a little taken aback by how badly mages/elves/etc are treated. like they understood it was different outside of rivain (they would have been young when the dairsmuid circle annulment happened right? so they don't 'remember' it themself, they likely heard others talking about it when they're old enough to understand) but until they actually saw what was happening first hand, they had a weird dissonance about it. but what we got was a deserted beach, ties to another faction (wardens are fine!! they are great !!!! the fourth blight is interesting!!!! yet they are not the faction with a lack of info about them!!!!!) and also the hall of valor that exists as flavor text with nothing meaningful behind it besides a pub used in a few cutscenes and a minigame.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

what is your favorite thing about charles and your favorite thing about erik? separately, as in what you like most about their characters :]

a devious question this one is, my friend!!! it's hard enough for me to explain my thoughts cohesively, but having to pick ONE thing i particularly love is difficult. with characters like charles and erik, theres been so much done with their characters over the decades and so they have so many components to them that make them so interesting and fun to observe. BUT I TRY FOR YOU TODAY. under the cut i kinda ramble and the size of this text box makin me anxious

i think if i were to be simple and broad, what i enjoy most about charles is his determination to help others, even if he isn't really thanked and/or if people don't even like him. ofc, this isn't to say he hasn't done wrong- to be honest, the fact he does wrong/questionable things at times is another aspect of him i really enjoy, maybe because- broadly speaking- he's meant to be altruistic (intent vs outcome and all that). i don't know if that's super exciting to most people, but it is for me

as for erik, my reason for liking him is easier to explain tbh. To Be Simple And Broad, his progression from villain to antihero over the decades has been fun to observe (as much as i have so far anyhow) and analyze. i think to be a bit more specific, him using his rage and pain as justifications for his villainous actions is definitely what compels me the most: hurt people hurt and the sort, an idea i've always found interesting (something something vicious cycles and the like). yet now, he recognizes this wasn't really. A Just Thing To Do and is beginning to change that, which i enjoy

[ari-the-silly]

I LOVE weird AUs. LIKE PLEASEEE GIVE ME YOUR AU IN WHICH THE CHARACTERS ARE NOTHING LIKE THE OGS. PLEASEEEE

[name-doggo]

One thing I really wish the FF Community would Stop doing is Removing All Nuance from the Parents in Those Stories in order to Make Them Abusive Supervillains who Never Loved their Kid.

Like... In the Four Years I've been here, and for how Small the Community really is, you'd be surprised how many Times I've seen it-

[smile-files]

i continue to find ii3 baffling. why did they make it (this isn't to hate on the season, i'm genuinely curious)

[fucksatan]

Thinking about a time I wrote a 7 paragraph long post analysing Walter and Skylar's relationship back in 2022 and somehow it got deleted and I was so devastated and I felt so silly and useless and I stopped posting altogether.

[docotokautism]

im actually really worried that im not that interested in &j anymore like ivd been having a hard time writing about it and talking about it online and i mean i talk about it a lot irl but idk like people have been knowing more than me and im starting to feel so incredibly inferior that it's hard for me to enjoy it

[whatudottu]

Hey, I noticed your post on Ectonurite religious practices, and I thought the concepts were very interesting. I’m a big fan of the Anur System myself, to the point I’ve learned how to make languages for them, if that’s not too weird…

In reference to this post-

The 'having a favourite fictional setting' to 'make a conlang' pipeline is all to real Pilgrim, my linguistics teacher let me use mine for my end of term project instead of the assigned analysis (transcribing a conversation between yourself and a friend, which probably would've been useful to study); you wouldn't believe what planet I based it on (don't look at my icon that's cheating :P)

But nah yeah, the Anur System is to me one of my favourite parts of Ben 10 Omniverse since I love horror and horror themed things but hate being scared of them so- the Anur System and the movie monsters that influence their design always has a special place in my head!

Even in my mutants and magic au where I retcon even OS to include more mutants and more magic users and presence where I made the Mummy an actual mummified priest who's attempt at resurrect worked (to the detriment to waking up to the grubby mitts of the British museum) and making Viktor an actual frankenstein's monster who's functionally mutant both to parallel Gwen and Max better (Gwen for magic obviously, Max for being a not-so-ex-Plumber who dealt with more than just alien phenomena but humans doing weird things inspired by old books and other stuff), I can't not still have the entirety of the Anur System still exist! I can't remember who but someone made thep khufan siphonophores and well- riding the coattails of my fulmini posting I got excited over them :P same goes for transylians though I haven't thought much about their potentially interesting biology other than the thought of 'how weird can scar tissue adaptations in biology become' so :P :P :P

[persephoneflouwers]

🫀.

[saturn-sends-hugs]

Fuck it, I’m seeing a lot of talk about Echo being a picky eater recently and I think I want to add my two neurodivergent cents to it lol

Firstly, I think it’s important to note that Echo is autistic. I know this hasn’t been stated anywhere or anything, but listing out his character quirks makes it pretty clear.

He repeats orders, arguing with his batch when they don’t follow them, and worries about doing things wrong. This feels like a safety thing to me, almost like telling kids in class to be quiet when the teacher is talking for no other reason than it feels right and them breaking rules is stressful. (can you tell I’m speaking from experience cause this whole post will be me speaking from experience bkshsjsks)

He reads and memorizes the reg manuals, liking to be caught up on the latest versions. Again, this feels like a safety thing; him wanting to know how things will work ahead of time so he can be prepared in every situation.

He doesn’t like being wrong, like when we see him refusing to back down on thinking the Seperatists Senator’s distress call is a trap (Avi Singh I think?). Even when the evidence starts poking holes in his theory, he doesn’t want to let it go. I’m not sure how to explain how this relates to autism other than that fact that autistic people just don’t like being wrong? Like it’s just hard to admit that and it’s almost scary to change your mind like that sometimes? Idrk honestly, I’m DEFINITELY not an expert lol, just saying my piece

So many of Echo’s character quirks relate directly to autism, and all of them are things I strongly relate to. (yes this is why he’s my favorite shush)

But most of all is his picky eating. And uh, this might actually get a tad heavy here but I hope this can maybe share an accurate perspective on it?

Many autistic people are fairly picky eaters, something I’ve definitely struggled with since I was born. We see Echo being skeptical of food multiple times, especially when they’re new to him. We see him eating rations bars, which would be familiar, without a second thought, but new things he’s extremely hesitant to try.

With that in mind and the headcanon (kinda) that he’s autistic, this sounds a lot like ARFID to me.

ARFID (Avoidant Restrictive Food Intake Disorder) is tricky to describe since there’s nothing conscious to it, its just somewhat of a mental hurdle? Like there’s a point you just can’t cross no matter what, a bit like ADHD and executive dysfunction, expect a lot stronger lol. It’s pretty much just picky eating to the extreme that a person cannot control and just makes your choices extremely limited when it comes to food.

This makes it difficult (ahem, impossible) to do seemingly basic things like trying absolutely any new foods. There are a few safe ones, maybe even a category of foods that are almost completely safe (for me: most deserts or fruits), but anything outside of that is different, it’s new, and it does not feel safe. When I say picky eating to the extreme, I mean extreme. If I’m literally starving, haven’t eaten in way too long, but the only things available aren’t safe foods? Well too bad guess I’m not eating today 🤷 It’s not much of a choice, it’s just being trapped by your own neurodivergent brain 🫠🫠🫠

It can feel childish and incredibly alienating to constantly turn down new foods or restaurants, or to order the same thing every time from a restaurant, off the kids menu or with special requests, and I just think that piece is being missed in Echo’s picky eating. Now I’m not telling anyone to stop making it a humorous thing cause it totally is in the show, but hey, I’m always here for the angst potential :)

Like what if the reason Echo still looks malnourished after joining the batch is because his safe foods like typical rations just aren’t readily available after the Empire springs up? What if the batch is on shore leave and decide to go to a restaurant and Echo has to either turn them down and explain, or force himself to go and try to tough it out? What if one of the batch makes a joke about Echo’s picky eating, just trying to make conversation or something, but Echo just fully shuts down? Maybe even Domino would joke about it at first, until Fives learned better and started helping Echo, but uhoh now he’s gone and Echo has to figure things out all over again with a new batch 🥲

Is this a fictional character that was grossed out by foods like two times and I’m just heavily projecting onto? Yeah, sure, but hey, I’d love to see more people recognizing this side of it and maybe connecting with it too :)

@gentle-hero-blog thanks for letting me sob abt this literally the minute u got home bkshsjskk <3333

[mayullla]

I’m so glad you liked what I sent in again for the Three Wishes part 2 (genie yandere)! I really like that I was able to help you cause your writing talent is way too good. (And as a fellow artist…I get what it’s like to be in a roadblock and the frustration that comes with it).

I actually really love reading more unusual or less well known fairy tales and mythology, so I could always send some more your way so you don’t have to do any research. (You can be lazy! Yay!) Though if you’re up for that, I think it’d be easier if I just messaged you privately instead of going back and forth with anon asks (if that’s comfortable with you of course).

I also like Reader’s “suffering” too in yandere stories. I always like stereotypical HEA, but my version of “suffering” is more so that the yandere wins (and Reader doesn’t die either or is heavily abused to the point where death is the better option. I hate where there is no heavy “dere” in yanderes, cause if it’s just “yan,” it’s just an abusive piece of shit).

That’s absolutely understandably about not wanting to focus on the Prince, I was just throwing it out there in case you wanted to make him a new important OC. And changing the Prince into a different profession also is perfectly fine. (Heck in the original story, pretty much the main reason the Prince was out and about was because he was scholarly-like. Having a deep and wide fascination with all the world had to offer. The dude really just wanted to go on an adventure and learn more).

And I’m glad 6.e. made your heart explode with delight! (I also have a guilty pleasure of thinking about all the fucked up things yanderes can do to their lover/others).

🩷🩷🩷

Do whatever you feel comfortable ask if you wanna stay anon or dms~ If you are thinking about spam this blog doesn't get many to to be fair. But yeah it is probably more comfortable in dms.

But just a heads up I personally don't know when I would actually start posting here again just yet. While I am slowly getting back to writing rn but I am taking the chance to write some longer stuff or more personal (deranged really) without pressuring myself to post like one or two fics every week. (also started another hobby of journalling soo) If you don't mind just exchanging ideas and stories then yeah~ ^^

Another reason why I dont want to deal with tags, hashtags and proofreading

But yeahhh hmm I deff placed a few readers in a "better death than this" while also adding to it that the reader in my head still has a fear of death but no real bad abuse???? I THINK- lmao Ehh I guess it is more so I love the idea of yanderes having control over where the reader is I guess, so controlling the area where they are, or maybe the controlling the mind or movements, or arranged marriages :p All my wips that i am working on currently is just that right now. Either one or a mix of them.