#if i were still fully hyperfixated maybe i could do it

[lokh]

FINISHED summary rewrite. might fuck around and just leave it as is and post notfic TWO!!!!

[foxmulderautism]

my beautiful autistic mind is so picky and annoying sometimes because my biggest struggle with writing at the moment is the fact i dont like how the name bobby looks written out but i like how it sounds and also know that is his name it literally cannot be anything else. but every time i look at the letters i'm like.......

[ninjatrashpanda]

Home (Home is wherever I'm with You)

Written for @bucktommypositivityweek Round Two. Day Seven: "Predict the Future." Read on AO3 here.

“Oh yeah,” Buck exclaimed, handing another freshly washed plate to Tommy to dry. Evenings like this one were becoming more and more common. Buck and Tommy would meet up at Tommy’s house or Buck’s loft after their shifts, cook and eat dinner together, do the dishes together, and then settle down on the couch for a movie Tommy wanted to see, or a documentary to fuel Buck’s latest hyperfixation before heading to bed, either for a round of ‘Was I a good boy, Daddy?’ or to just sleep, depending on how tired they were after work. “My lease runs out in three months. Remind me that I have to talk to my landlord about a new one.”

Tommy nodded, putting the now dry plate on top of the stack next to him. “I can remind you, but have you thought about maybe… I don���t know… not renewing it?” His tone was casual, as it usually was, but Buck could tell that he was nervous from the way the blue of his eyes seemed to waver. For all that Tommy knew how to mask his facial expressions, Buck had quickly learned that his eyes had the tendency to betray him as long as you knew what to look for.

Buck let out a small chuckle, reaching for another plate, one of his eyebrows rising in confusion. “Not renewing?” he echoed, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And what? Move into the station full time?”

Tommy laughed, shaking his head. “Not quite what I had in mind. I was thinking more… you know, here. At my place.”

An odd sense of quiet spread through the room for a moment, despite the soft clinking of silverware and the gentle hum of the dishwasher running behind them. It wasn’t an out-of-the-blue proposal, not really. In fact, Buck figured, they’d been tiptoeing around it for weeks, maybe months. Their evenings together were less about convenience and more about the deep comfort they’d found in each other’s company, the quiet routines they’d built together. On nights when their shifts kept them apart, Buck deeply missed and outright craved Tommy, and not just in the sexual sense either. He’d realized a while ago that he really didn’t want to be apart from his boyfriend for any extended amount of time.

“You… You want me to move in with you?”

Tommy stopped drying for a second, focusing on folding the towel in his hands to avoid meeting Buck’s eyes. “Yeah, I do. I mean, we’re here all the time anyway, right? You’ve got a drawer, you’ve got space in the closet, half your stuff’s already in the bathroom. It just makes sense. Plus…" He finally looked up, his expression softening. “I like having you around, Evan. It feels… good. Natural.”

Buck didn’t respond immediately. He reached for the next dish, but instead of handing it over, he stared at the water droplets sliding down the ceramic, his mind working through the unspoken implications. He wasn’t scared, exactly. Living with Tommy had an appeal, a strong one, but it also carried weight. The last time he moved in with a partner had been an absolute disaster (and Buck was mature enough to acknowledge that it wasn’t fully or even mostly on Taylor either) and he really, really didn’t want his relationship with Tommy to go down the same path.

He finally spoke, voice steady but thoughtful. “I like being here with you too, Tommy, of course I do, I love you. It’s just… moving in, it’s a big step. You sure we’re ready for that?”

Tommy’s lips pressed together as he kept playing with his towel, his lower lip caught between his teeth. He didn’t want to push, and Buck knew and appreciated that. This wasn’t about trying to goad Buck into doing something he wasn’t ready for; it was about opening a door that, deep down, he already knew they both wanted to walk through.

“I get that it’s a big step,” Tommy finally said, his voice a touch softer, though still carrying that cadance of sincerity that Buck had become so familiar with. “I’m not trying to pressure you or make you feel like we have to do this now. But I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and… honestly, I’m ready if you are.” His eyes met Buck’s, unwavering, calm but warm, and full of love. “No rush, no pressure. Just… think about it.”

Buck let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, running a hand through his damp curls. There was a knot in his chest that he hadn’t quite figured out how to untangle, a mix of excitement, anxiety, and an old, familiar fear of things falling apart when they seemed to be going too well.

“I do love being here,” Buck admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it too loudly might somehow jinx what they had. “And you’re right. Half my stuff’s already here. I just…” He paused, words getting caught somewhere between his heart and his throat. “I guess I’m scared, you know? Last time I moved in with someone, I made a whole bunch of mistakes. It was a bad idea, and we rushed into things and it got… messy.”

Tommy nodded, leaning against the counter, his fingers still absently twisting the towel. “I know what happened with Taylor wasn’t easy, Evan. But that was different. You were different. And I’m not her.” He took a step closer, closing the space between them, his hand finding Buck’s in the soapy sink. The warmth of Tommy’s touch grounded him, and for a second, the room felt smaller, quieter. More intimate.

“You’re not,” Buck agreed, his thumb tracing lazy circles on the back of Tommy’s hand. “And I don’t want to compare what we have to that. I just… I want to make sure we’re doing this for the right reasons. Not because it’s convenient or comfortable, but because it’s what we both really want.”

Tommy tilted his head slightly, his eyes searching Buck’s face as if trying to read the thoughts that Buck was too afraid to say out loud. “If you need to think about it, that’s okay. You know I’m not gonna hold it against you, right?”

Buck let out a small sigh, feeling the weight of Tommy’s words settle over him. He knew Tommy meant every word. There was no hidden agenda, no underlying expectation. He was simply being honest about what he wanted, but ready to let it go if Buck didn’t. And Buck knew that should he say no, Tommy would be disappointed, but nothing would change between them. Tommy would know that Buck declining now wasn’t a never, just a not at this point. And that was what made this relationship so different from all the others. It wasn’t built on fleeting passion or some burning need to be wanted. It was steady, patient, and real.

“I know,” Buck said, his voice a little more solid this time. He turned to look at Tommy, really look at him. The man who had somehow woven himself into the fabric of Buck’s everyday life without either of them really noticing it happening. Tommy was everything Buck never thought he needed. Calm where Buck was impulsive, thoughtful where Buck was driven by instinct. It made Buck feel safer than he had in a long time.

Tommy smiled, a soft, understanding curve of his lips. “There’s no rush, baby,” he said again, letting his hand squeeze Buck’s gently before releasing it and taking the next dish. “We can talk about it whenever you’re ready. Or not talk about it. Whatever works.”

*

“So, what’s bugging you?” Bobby asked as he threw Buck’s apron over to him. They’d just gotten back to the station after a minor fender bender (three mild injuries, no deaths) and after sending everyone off to do their chores, he had quickly roped Buck into making dinner with him. Buck should have known it was a set-up.

“Wow, okay,” he said, grabbing an onion to dice for the bolognese recipe Tommy had gotten from his Nonna, a recipe both Bobby and Buck had gotten obsessed with mastering. “Not even gonna try to butter me up first, huh?”

Bobby chuckled as he started chopping the garlic, his hands moving with the kind of ease that came from years of cooking for the station. “We both know I’m not great at subtlety,” he said, glancing up at Buck with a pointed look. “Besides, I can tell something’s been on your mind. Figured I’d cut to the chase.”

Buck sighed, shaking his head slightly as he focused on the onion in front of him. The sharp smell of it hit him as soon as he sliced into it, and the familiar sting of onion-tears started piecing his eyes. He really should’ve known Bobby would catch on. If not him, who?

“I don’t know, Cap,” Buck said, his voice softer than usual. “It’s kinda dumb, really. I’ve just been... thinking. A lot.”

Bobby didn’t respond right away, just kept working at the garlic, letting Buck find his way to whatever he needed to say. Buck appreciated it. He hated being pushed to answer, and it always made him feel like he had to justify himself for feeling things. Bobby leaving him air to breathe and sort his thoughts, even if he was a little embarrassed that Bobby could read him so readily.

Buck did appreciate it. But it did also make him squirm.

“You know you’re allowed to think about things,” Bobby said after a moment, keeping his tone light. “But sometimes you get stuck in your head, Buck. And I’m not sure that’s where you want to be right now.”

Buck dropped the knife on the cutting board with a sigh, the rhythmic chop-chop of onions halting as he wiped his hands on his apron. “It’s not that,” he muttered, staring down at the half-diced onion, almost willing it to give him answers.

“So what is it?”

Buck looked up, meeting Bobby’s eyes for the first time since the conversation had started. He could feel the weight of Bobby’s concern, genuine and steady, like the man was always a step ahead, trying to make sure everyone around him was okay.

He swallowed hard, trying to find the words. “Tommy asked me to move in with him, and I’m scared.”

Bobby raised an eyebrow, pausing his garlic chopping for a second before setting the knife down. “Scared?” His tone was gentle, but Buck could sense the surprise there. “Of moving in with Tommy, or… something else?”

Buck let out a long breath, the air thick with the smell of onions and garlic now, the comforting scents of a familiar meal that should have helped ease his tension but only seemed to magnify the knot twisting in his stomach. He looked down at the onion, pushing it around the board with the edge of his knife. The words were on the tip of his tongue, but it was like they didn’t want to come out. Talking about feelings was never easy for him, especially not the deep, vulnerable ones. But this… this was Bobby. The man who had been there through the worst and somehow still saw him, still believed in him.

“I don’t know,” Buck finally said, the words coming out in a rush, like if he didn’t say them now, they’d never come. “I’m not really scared of moving in, I’m scared of messing it all up like I did with Taylor.”

Bobby gave a small nod and a hum, his expression one of calm realization. He turned and resumed chopping the garlic, the steady sound of the knife hitting the cutting board filling the silence between them. Buck appreciated the way Bobby let the quiet hang, giving him the space to work through his tangled thoughts.

“I know I shouldn’t compare the two,” Buck said, frustration creeping into his voice. He resumed dicing the onion, his movements a little too quick, the sharp knife clattering against the board. “Tommy’s not Taylor and I’m not the same Buck that I was back then, but it’s like I can’t help it. Every time I think about taking the next step with him, my mind goes back to everything I did wrong with Taylor. How I thought I could make it work, despite everything, and then… well, you know how that went.”

Bobby set down his knife again, wiping his hands on a towel as he turned to fully face Buck. His gaze was steady, not judgmental, just patient. “Buck, you can’t beat yourself up over past mistakes forever. You’ve learned from them. That’s what matters.”

Buck frowned, his hands stilling for a moment as he considered Bobby’s words. “Yeah, but what if I haven’t learned enough? What if I mess this up too? Tommy… he’s important to me. Like, really important. I think he could be it, you know? And the last thing I want to do is hurt him or make things awkward between us.”

Bobby gave a small nod, leaning back against the counter as he crossed his arms. “I get that, Buck. Believe me, I do. But relationships aren’t about never making mistakes. They’re about being willing to learn and grow together. From what I’ve seen, you and Tommy are already doing that.”

Buck stared at the sloppy onion dices in front of him, the smell still sharp, mixing with the garlic Bobby had finished. “What if I can’t handle the pressure? I mean, living together is a big deal. I’m just not sure I’m ready.”

Bobby smiled faintly, a hint of warmth in his eyes as he watched Buck. “Do you want to be ready, though?”

Buck blinked. The question caught him off guard. It wasn’t something he had considered, at least not in those terms. Did he want to be ready? Of course he did, didn’t he? But then again, that was part of the problem. He wanted to be perfect, to have it all figured out before he took the leap. The thought of messing up, of failing, of somehow destroying what he and Tommy had, gnawed at him.

“I do,” Buck sighed, his voice quieter now, more thoughtful. “I just don’t want to screw this up, Bobby. I’ve done that too many times already. What if I’m just not meant for this? What if...”

Bobby held up a hand, stopping him gently but firmly. “Buck, stop.” He shook his head slightly, his tone soft but unwavering. “You’re not broken. You’ve been through a lot, and yeah, you’ve made mistakes. We all have. But that doesn’t mean you’re destined to keep repeating them.”

Buck felt a lump form in his throat. He hated how accurate Bobby’s assessment of him was. How often had he thought like that about himself? That he was somehow defective, doomed to fail at every relationship he tried to make work? It was like a heavy weight tied around his neck, one that seemed to make it harder and harder to keep his head up.

Bobby’s eyes softened as he kept speaking, his voice filled with that steady, reassuring calm Buck had come to rely on. “You’re allowed to be scared, Buck. It means this matters to you. But don’t let that fear keep you from something good. You and Tommy… you’ve got something worth fighting for. And from what I’ve seen, you’re both willing to put in the work.”

Buck swallowed, his eyes burning a little, though he wasn’t sure if it was from the onion or the sudden rush of emotions coursing through his body. He wiped his hands on his apron again, more out of habit than necessity. “I guess I’m just scared I’ll let him down,” he admitted quietly. Bobby had done it once again. He had peeled back every single one of Buck’s worries and doubts and had nailed exactly what the source of his issues was. “He deserves someone who’s... not a mess.”

Bobby shook his head, stepping closer and resting a hand on Buck’s shoulder. “Buck, you’re not a mess. You’re human. And Tommy knows that. You two are building something together, and that’s not something that happens overnight. It takes time, effort, and yeah, sometimes it takes stumbling a little along the way. But that doesn’t mean you’re not worthy of it.”

Buck looked up at Bobby, his throat tight, the knot in his stomach loosening just a little as he heard the words. He knew Bobby meant them. He could see it in his eyes, could hear it in his voice.

“Do you think I can do this?” Buck asked, his voice almost a whisper now.

Bobby’s smile was small but full of warmth. “I think you already are. You’re asking the right questions, thinking about it the way you should. You care enough to want to get it right. That’s what matters.”

Buck nodded slowly, feeling a little of the tension start to melt away. Bobby’s words had a way of doing that, of making things seem less impossible, less overwhelming. Maybe he didn’t have it all figured out yet, but maybe he didn’t need to. Maybe just wanting to do better, wanting to be there for Tommy, was enough for now.

“Thanks, Cap,” Buck said, his voice steadier now. “I guess I just needed to hear that.”

Bobby gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before stepping back to the cutting board, picking up his knife and getting back to the garlic. “Anytime, Buck. And hey, when you move in with Tommy, don’t forget to keep practicing this bolognese. I’m counting on you to help me perfect it.”

Buck laughed, a real, genuine laugh that he hadn’t realized he needed. He picked up his knife again, the rhythm of chopping the onion coming more easily now, less frantic. “Deal. But only if you let me make the garlic bread.”

“Done,” Bobby said with a grin. “Now, let’s finish this before everyone starts complaining about being hungry.”

*

“This is the last one,” Tommy called, carrying a box down the stairs to Buck’s former bedroom. Buck, waiting at the base with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder and his suitcase by his side. “You had a lot less stuff than I expected, baby.”

Buck smiled, though it didn’t meet his eyes. “Yeah, it’s… I never really needed much, you know?”

It was true. Buck had, for all intents and purposes, been kind of a minimalist with the loft. He lived at the station half the time anyway, so he had never really tried to accessorize or anything. A few pictures of himself and his family, from Maddie and Bobby to Christopher and Jee-Yun were about the only things that he figured mattered. He loved his family, and being surrounded by them, even if it was only through photographs, always made him feel better.

“You okay?” Tommy asked, putting the box to the ground. And that… was a loaded question. Yes, Buck was okay, technically. He wanted this. He wanted to move in with Tommy, was okay with letting the loft go.

But this had still been his home for the last six years of his life. It was still the end of an era.

“Just… feeling a little nostalgic is all.”

Tommy nodded, an understanding smile making its way to his face. “Makes sense,” he said quietly, running his hand through his messy curls as he leaned against the doorframe. “You’ve been through a lot in this place.”

Buck sighed, his eyes drifting around the room, taking in the bare walls, the empty bookshelves, the absence of the things that had once made this place feel like his. There was a time when this loft had been a refuge, a place to heal after he had hit rock bottom more than once. He’d been here after the ladder truck had crushed his leg, after the tsunami, after the lightning strike. His relationships with Ali and Taylor and Natalia had ended here. He had spent weeks in here all alone when he had filed the lawsuit that had almost destroyed his relationships with the people that mattered most to him.

“Yeah,” he finally said, his voice soft. “A lot happened here.”

And yet, it had also been a sanctuary, a place of endless laughter, and some of the best parts of his life. Getting this place had made him feel like an adult for the first time in his life. He had felt independent in a way not even traveling across the country on his own had made him feel. He and Eddie had made up after the lawsuit in here, he and Christopher had spent countless hours pummeling each other in fighting games, he’d first seen Jee-Yun crawl in here when she had made her way from the door to the couch. He had even delivered his Conner and Kameron’s child in here.

Tommy and him had shared their first kiss here.

Tommy watched him carefully, his eyes twinkling with fondness. “You don’t have to let it all go, you know,” he said, voice gentle. “You can take the memories with you.”

Buck smiled at that, the kind of smile that cracked through the melancholy even though it still didn’t quite fill out his face. “I know. It’s just… this place has seen every part of me, you know? The mess, the mistakes, the times I got back up again. It’s hard to leave that behind.”

“I get it,” Tommy murmured, stepping closer, his hand brushing lightly against Buck’s arm. “And it’s normal. Leaving your old home for a new one is always hard.”

Buck’s gaze softened as he looked at Tommy, grateful for the way he understood, the way he just… got it. That was one of the things that had made Buck fall for him in the first place. Tommy knew how to be present, how to listen without forcing an answer or solution.

“Moving in with you,” Buck said, looking down at the duffel bag and then back at the empty space around him, “it feels right. I just didn’t expect it to feel this… complicated too.”

Tommy chuckled softly and leaned in to kiss Buck’s temple, his arm moving around Buck’s shoulders. “Change always is. Even the good ones. But look, we don’t have to rush anything. If you need more time, I—”

“No,” Buck interrupted, though his tone was gentle. “I’m ready. I really am. I want this—us.” He turned to pull Tommy into a slow, soft kiss, resting his forehead against Tommy’s. “I think I just need a second to say goodbye to this place, you know?”

Tommy squeezed his hand, a warm smile lighting up his face. “Take all the time you need.”

Buck turned back toward the loft, his heart heavy but steady, while Tommy went to grab the box and stand in the doorway. Buck walked slowly around the room, letting his fingers graze the walls, each touch bringing back fragments of the life he’d lived here. The first time he’d stood in the kitchen, fresh from a shift, feeling like he was finally becoming the man he wanted to be. The nights he’d stayed awake, trying not to let his loneliness get to him, wondering if he’d ever be enough for anyone. The day Maddie had come home after getting treated for her PPD. The moment Eddie had told him that Chris thought of him as a hero, a title Buck never felt like he deserved but wore like armor anyway.

He stepped out onto the balcony, the Los Angeles skyline glowing with the soft hues of the setting sun. The view had always been one of his favorite parts of this place. It reminded him that, no matter how chaotic life got, the world kept turning, kept moving. And so did he.

With a deep breath, Buck finally allowed t’he tears that had built behind his lids to flow free, feeling the weight of six years lift from his shoulders. This place had been his sanctuary, his shelter. But now, he realized, it had also been his cocoon. It had kept him safe while he grew, while he healed. But he wasn’t the same man who had first walked through that door all those years ago. He was ready to spread his wings and step into something new.

Something with Tommy.

He stepped back in, his heart full but at peace, and caught Tommy’s eye. “I think I’m good now,” he said softly, smiling—a real, genuine smile this time.

Tommy grinned, his eyes twinkling with that infectious warmth that had always made Buck feel grounded. “Good. Because I was starting to think I’d have to carry all your boxes back up.”

Buck laughed, the sound light and free, cutting through the bittersweet air. “You’re hilarious. But no, I won’t strain your back like that, old man.”

“Oh, okay. I see how it is!” Tommy shot back, his expression playful as Buck picked up his suitcase and duffel bag. “Come on, let’s get out of here before you change your mind.”

Tommy grabbed the last box, and together, they headed for the door. Just before stepping through, Buck paused one last time, looking back over his shoulder at the loft. He let the memories settle in his mind, like pictures into a photo album.

“Goodbye,” he whispered, not to the loft itself, but to the man he used to be inside it. Then, he turned to join Tommy in the hallway. “Let’s go home.”

[imshymorph]

HI LOVE!!!! 🥺

if ur taking requests, could you pls do husband!Price with a reader who has ADHD? I myself have ADHD and am extremely forgetful, and tend to feel emotions more intensely than others, which means I cry a lot and get told I’m over sensitive haha 🥺❤️❤️😭

Hi darling! My requests are open, I'm just loaded up with uni work. So sorry it took over a week for me to answer. (But if you don’t mind the wait, 100% send in requests!!). I hope I portrayed it properly, I kind of fall in the adhd spectrum myself but it can really vary from one person to another, so I hope it's relatable!

Anyway, here’s some soft!Price with ADHD!reader

I think he’d notice pretty early on, maybe not specifically labelling it as ADHD, but he’d pick up on the forgetfulness and how quick it could change to a hyperfixation. I think he’s observant enough that he’d kind of be able to pinpoint the moment in your thought process where you jump from the thing you just said you were going to do to whatever other task popped in your mind that pulls you away from it.- - - - -

He would grow used to it pretty quickly, used to sharing space with all kinds of people at base and adapting himself to better work with them. I also lowkey headcanon that Soap has ADHD so he’d already have an idea on how to work around it and some strategies in place to help you with it. 

Although I think his main worry would be supporting you with the emotional side that comes with it. He’d be there for you at any time. It doesn’t matter what it is, he’ll dry your tears and talk with you about it. If you don’t want to talk or maybe it’s one of those days where you don’t even know why you’re crying, then he’ll just hold you close for a bit and help you get distracted when you feel better. 

I think that even if he doesn’t fully understand it, he can get a grasp on how overwhelming it can get. He’d notice when you’re starting to get frustrated, when your brain just can’t find something that releases enough oxytocin to keep you entertained for long enough. He’d swipe in then, bringing up one of your special interests or one of the hobbies you gave up on a few months back, to see if it sparks some joy again. If it doesn’t he’ll find something new that you both can try together or somewhere to go and explore. 

And don’t  you dare apologise for any of it, he’d give you a full on scolding on how it’s not something to apologise for. (That’s who you are and who he loves, darling). He doesn’t care that you forgot to close the kitchen cupboard for the fifth time this week, nor that the clean dishes still sit on the dishwasher, nor the pile of folded clothes that still sit on top of the dresser. He’s happy to have you with him, to share space with you and he’d take a messy living room and arrive late to your reservations on date night every single time if it means he’s with you. 

Also, he’d absolutely change things around the house and in his schedule if it means it makes things easier for you. He’ll change the organisation in all drawers and cupboards that need it so it’ll be easier for you to remember to put everything in its place. He’ll sit with you while you do work or chores, having casual conversation to keep you entertained and focused while you finish. Will sit there for hours if he has to, listening to you infodump about whatever thing your brain has last fixated on. And hold you for as long as you need when your emotions get too much and make you cry, one warm hand on your hip to hold you close while the other rubs your back. 

And relating to the crying. Poor soul, the one who dares to call you oversensitive in his presence. He’d absolutely rip them a new one, ready to start a physical fight if it is necessary because (how dare you judge his love for something out of their control). As soon as he’s satisfied with the scolding the other person got, his full attention is back on you. 

He’d pull you close, cup your cheeks and gently dry your tears with his thumbs. A small smile appearing on his lips, “don’t listen to them, love. You’re perfect just like this.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and lightly pinches your cheeks to get a smile from you. “Come on, let���s go home so you can tell me more about those books you have been reading.”

And the way your small pout and teary eyes change to a smile makes his heart soar. He throws an arm over your shoulders and holds you close as the both of you walk home, happily listening about the character arch of one of the main characters you tell him about. He’s already planning on wrapping you up on your favourite blanket on the couch while he gets ready some of your comfort food, how you’ll eat it together while you cuddle and watch one of your favourite shows or movies. 

[crowroboros]

would sydney be the boyest of failures if the echo lake incident never happened? (btw personally his pirate and boxing interests were his hyperfixations and also about kicking the fuck out of his dad- pirates dont follow the law and boxers-kick- punch the fuck outta people so he probs fixated on those because he wanted to teach and change his father.)

Alive Sydney AUs are always interesting to think about but a common pitfall I see people take is just not thinking about the full extend of what changes occur and the circumstances surrounding the change. I think we need to first figure out when the timeline splits for our hypothetical scenario. Are we following a timeline in which Sydney just didn't go with the rest of the group to Lake Emma? Are we following a scenario in which Mr. Bronson didn't die the way he did and thus Sydney didn't get possessed by the Samulation? Or is it that in this timeline Mr. Bronson never accidentally killed Sam Ayers? And thus he was never possessed? Cause I think that this will end up greatly impacting how Sydney turns out.

Cause if we're going under the idea that everything up until the Lake Emma incident is the same then I do not see things going well at all for Sydney. It's noted that ever since his father died and during the months leading up to his own death that Sydney would switch between his typical normal self and extreme aggression — implied to be due to the Samulation. If this kept up through his teenage years then I could see Sydney getting into serious trouble because of this. He was said to have caused some physical injuries to his friends during this time period by getting too violent with them when playing around and getting into these aggressive episodes. If this is like Chase's experience with the Samulation then I expect this to end up being thought of as a mental health issue which won't end up getting addressed due to its paranormal origin. And if that happens I wonder if the Samulation's hold on Sydney would worsen and if his aggression and violent tendencies would increase in severity and frequency. And if that happens then I fully expect it to cause issues for Sydney. Flynn's Samulation-induced hallucination at the end of his route is probably the closest thing we have seen to what Sydney would go through if he didn't die then, but even that was based on Flynn's own personal thoughts on what Sydney was like and how he'd turn out.

If we're saying that Mr. Bronson doesn't die on that hunting trip and Sydney never gets possessed then I think that this timeline is more akin to what a lot of Alive Sydney AUs depict, with a generally happier and more healthy dynamic between the group. I think that there is a solid chance that this timeline's Sydney is a goofy boyfailure, yes. Like a Reyn Xenoblade-esque kind of guy. A rambunctious, fun-loving, boyfailure who loves wrestling, ninjas, pirates, who hates his dad and maybe possibly gets into Situations with Flynn and Leo depending on the AU and headcanon about Sydney. I don't think he'll be as happy and as healthy as some depict him, especially with how his father was, but I do think he'd probably be better off than if he was possessed.

Now that last possibility is arguably the most interesting. What happens if Mr. Bronson never accidentally kills Sam? If that happens then it is likely, if not guaranteed, that Mr. Bronson doesn't get possessed by the Samulation. And if that's the case then maybe he doesn't turn out to be such a shitty father. And if what you say about Sydney's interests are true, then would Sydney in this timeline still enjoy those things? Would Sydney even exist at all in this timeline? Cause Sam's death strained Mr. Bronson and Janice's relationship and is part of the reason they split so maybe in this timeline Mr. Bronson and Janice never break up and so Mr. Bronson and Eliza wouldn't get together and have Sydney.

There are so many possibilities with Alive Sydney timelines depending on when things split from the main Echo timeline. I think it'd be cool to see specific instances of what makes these AUs differ from the canon timelines utilized to explore Sydney's character and dynamic with Flynn and the others rather than a vague "Sydney is alive!" sort of AU. Especially with Chase, cause if Chase doesn't get possessed then he never has that more subdued "rock-like" personality that he has in the main game. I wonder how Chase and Sydney would interact if Chase still had his more judgmental and snarky traits like he does as a kid and when the Samulation stops possessing him in Flynn's route.

[hockeyforlife]

Here's an honest curiosity, although I'm probably asking the wrong audience based on my page content. If you're a straight guy, and you get your oil checked, what effect does it have on you?

Do you feel sick and violated?

Do you brush it off as part of wrestling?

Do you get him back?

As a gay man, I'm used to touching there and being touched there, so while not sexual in this instance, it's also not a shocking feeling.

Maybe it's different for me because the first time hands explored there on me was with a boyfriend. I was hyperfixated on remembering that feeling for days upon days, getting more curious about it. Curious about being on the giving and recieving ends.

If an opponent violently digs a couple fingers into your anus, do you explore your own hole afterwards? Is this what makes you ask your girlfriend to let you give her anal? Do you want her to return the favour? Do you hope she says yes, but only if she can do the same to you?

I wrestled in my early teens until I knew I wouldn't be able to hide among you. Your sweat, your scent, your fit body, and the physical contact. If you were fat or had a pizza face, I was okay. If I found you attractive, it was even worse for me. It made me give you an advantage because I was vigilant to not touch you anywhere personal, while to you it seemed like it was whatever.

Not exactly an oil check, my last match ever, I took 2nd place in my city championship to a guy I could beat if he fought clean. A guy that thrust his envious cock in my crack every chance he could, using it to his advantage because early on he saw it completely threw me off my game. I spent almost the whole match with a raging hard-on, defending from the referees position with his half hard to fully hard cock pressed between my cheeks, fighting my way out of it, but only to have to start from that position again. I lost on points, and my coach had a lot to say to the ref about that, calling the whole match one big sexual assult with clothes on. I quit wrestling in humiliation and closeted-gay-man-self-hate that day.

I finally learned later in highschool waterpolo to give what I got. I quickly learned and accepted that under the waters surface, hands went to all those places for an advantage. Squeeze the nuts to hurt him, feel the guy up to throw him off, tickle his taint, and just like in this picture, dig for oil. A repressed, closeted, hormonal gay teen with an excuse to touch other guys in their personal places, I did, or attempted to, do it all. I had this done to me once, had my oil checked through my swimsuits, and that's when I was informed by a senior teammate that it's the reason we all wore 2 speedos during matches. More than once, my team or an opposing team, I saw a previously whole speedo finish a game tattered and torn. I clearly remember one time a teammate had a hand down his speedos with a finger trying to penetrate him like these pictures, like I'd had done to me through a doubled-up speedo, and like I sometimes tried to do to an opponent. It was all violent reaction, not strategic, but he managed to draw a ref's attention to it by pushing off the guy enough to get his ass above water level, exposing a hand stuck deep in the back of his swimsuits. He says the finger was still a knuckle deep when he broke the water, his speedo waistbands below his asscheeks for all to see. Of course, a straight guy, he could get away with telling the story exactly as it was, proving his manliness and disgust by uttering the words fag and homo repeatedly as well as a bunch of profanity.

So, yeah. I'm not looking for erotica. Straight, gay, or however you identify, I'm very curious what a wrestlers' honest thoughts on this are: absolute dirtiest move in contact sports, or fair game?

[earth-7103984]

Amelia 'Amy' Miller - Venom of Earth-7103984

Unlike Venom in most realities, the symbiote itself never bonded with Spider-Woman in this universe.

Amy is an orphan girl around the same age as Spindel who developed a very unhealthy obsession with Spider-Woman, after being saved by her once. Always being alone caused her to hyperfixate on her new idol, building a relationship in her head, obsessing over her new beloved, despite never even seeing her face. It was this obsession that led to her starting to take as many pictures of Spider-Woman as possible. Eventually, she got pretty damn good at it and actually managed to score a job at The Daily Bugle. She certainly didn't like what they had to say about her adored Spider-Woman, but this was the only thing she could do better than anyone else, and it paid the bills.

Despite Spider-Woman being her specialty, she was also sent to take pictures for other stories, though she often lacked enthusiasm during them. She had been sent to take pictures at Oscorp, where they had apparently discovered some sort of alien lifeform that they couldn't yet understand. Much to Amy's delight, the whole press conference was interrupted, as Spider-Woman crashed into the place, being chased by the Green Goblin. After having to rescue civilians, fight off the villain and all that, the whole area was left a mess and, the black goo that was the lifeform was nowhere to be found. It had actually stuck itself to Amy's clothes during the chaos of the fight, fully bonding with her once she arrived home.

Even though she now finally had a friend, the symbiote certainly didn't help her obsession with Spider-Woman. In fact, it made it even worse, with the poor girl using her newfound abilities to get close and personal with her beloved, sometimes to the point of causing trouble just to get her attention.

Personality wise, Amy used to be a quiet, shy and very depressed girl. In a way, her obsession with Spider-Woman saved her from a very dark place, though this wasn't the best way to cope with it. She still became a much happier person, even if her happiness now depended on someone else. The symbiote only made her obsession and personality more extreme, with Venom wanting to help its host to achieve her romantic goals, clearly having a distorted view of the supposed relationship between Amy and Spider-Woman.

From a non in-universe story... I thought if Amy shortly after coming up with Spindel, maybe a couple of weeks after. I initially thought of naming her Ellie Brock, but ended up deciding to make her a completely new character, seeing as the differences between her and Eddie were just too big. A big influence for her backstory, as I'm sure it's obvious, was Electro from The Amazing Spider-Man 2, though Amy never really got to the point of hating her spider.

Art commissioned from @Angelesrevill_ on Twitter.

[kayakoto-enterprises]

She Loves You (2/2)

Cathedrals are everywhere for the eyes to see.

Thank you all for being patient with how long this took! Happy 2nd month, House Guest! This crazy hyperfixation has me holding on and recovering from everything.

Read the 1st part and the Midfic to fully understand everything going on here.

In which our beloved couple present themselves happily long before they need to defend their existence to their imagined public.

December 12, 1987

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You want to look up and pretend it isn't snowing. you want to see the autumn sky again but no. It's flat. It's a pastel lavender. And the weather freezes everyone's paws as they read the morning paper. You're unwrapping this notebook that's been sitting snuggly in the wrapper for the new season. and as you transfer important notes and numbers from the old book, a pink sticky note has her name and telephone number on it. It was only yesterday when you first called but the numbers are already burnt into your mind. Then your eyes look at the clock, monitoring the hours, scratching in impatience, anticipating…

Then you realise what’s happening. You thought that you had kept her at arms-length, close enough but not comfortable. You kept most people at a distance but not her. She begins to tap dangerously close into your mind and you can only shut down to prevent any more ideas from flowing. But she’s multiplying, burrowing everywhere you can hide. How annoying.

Then you may stop to think to yourself: “Is it likely that I’m falling in love again?” Again? Since when have I loved someone? Like Lola? I’m not too sure if there’s a calibre we can weigh the intensity on. Maybe a heart attack, but I never had any of those either. In any case though, I don’t believe I do that sort of thing. The feeling is far distant from it. I could say that I love different things- like the autumn breeze, black coffee with hazelnuts, or the feeling of control. Those are just extreme expressions we throw around. Nothing else special. 

I walked out of the shop expecting a yellow sky but it was still covered in lavender. The feeling was beginning to make me go mad. Dressing up in new garb, looking directly at myself in confused rage. I’ve had this conversation before. I like women. I prefer women. I am not above killing them though. But love knows its ways around me. I’m blushing. I’m fixating on every clumsy sign of affection she shows me. Her kind gestures. Her smile. The way she scrunches her face when her glasses begin to slip. Her unusual voice. I’m beginning to feel it again. A quickened heartbeat. The blurry vision. Sweaty palms. Slurred thoughts.

Maybe I do.

Then she shakes my shoulder when she finds me sitting near the ticket booth with my arms crossed. I sit up properly taking a good look at her. Julianne finally wore her glasses outside, the red frames matching a ribboned top. It was something a little nicer than any of her usual outfits. I curiously wondered though who was inside the silver locket she was wearing.

“Hi, I’m sorry if I kept you waiting.”

“No, you aren’t late at all.” I replied “It’s not even 4 yet but let’s hurry. I have a secret to show you in here.”

Her ears popped up hearing the invitation. She nodded and followed behind me when I bought our tickets and made our way into the cinema. The theatre lights were still on, but as to be expected, there were handfuls of families crowding the theatre this Saturday. Thankfully seats 6 and 7 on Row L were empty and everyone else was courteous enough to not surround our bubble as badly as they could have. 

“Don’t tell anyone about this spot.” I whispered “This has the best view in the cinema even on a packed night.”

Her eyes instead focus on the architectural quirks and details swirling around the space, drawn immediately to the gold cat centrepiece hanging above the screen. She looks back at me and nods.

 “It is…seems just right in the middle..” Her voice tones down to a shy whisper. She rubs her hand on the plush of the velvet seat. The lights dim and the projection begins. The doors are closed for the next hour. Time was moving slower in that red box. I could barely focus on the movie. I know I’ve seen it before somewhere. Julianne on the other hand had her eyes focused on every minute and every detail. She was holding back her excitement to not be so rude. The entire time I was squinting, making out her face in the dark and she only caught me staring once just to tell me her favourite scene was coming up. I forced myself to look at the screen, avoiding suspicion but my hands wandered, landing on top of hers, comfortably sliding my fingers between the gaps, neither of us aware what we were doing to one another.

I could not resist it. My signals were jammed, and they were all directing me to hold her hand or her arms the entire time. I regained autonomy when I asked myself if I could take it a step further. Then the excitement of momentum drowned. 

Julianne continued to hold my hand though even outside the theatre an hour later, humming the songs happily and swaying her arms.

“Hey Julianne, your glasses are fogged.”

“Aw, are they? Thanks.” She let go and grabbed a napkin to clean them up.

She leaned her head on my arm, purring as we continued walking downtown to her apartment. Lively Saturday nights have returned slowly but surely. Christmas lights and displays illuminated the stores around each corner, decorated with trinkets or dioramas of religious imagery. Julianne would stop every now and then to admire a few of them. 

“Thanks for taking me to see Annie tonight. You really didn’t have to.” 

“It’s my pleasure. I don’t know what to do with myself on December nights. Everyone is either out of town or closed early.”

“Everyone is home in December where I’m from. Woodbrook would be twice as busy. Everything would be open til 11!”

I gently smile.

“Oh, I should make it up to you..uhm..do you like magic shows? Not the birthday party sort of ones, the ones that are a lil more mature.” Julianne asks almost excitedly “It’s more of a comedy thing than it is kiddie entertainment. I could take you with me..”

“I’m sorry, I don’t. It’s not my cup of tea.” I said between half-gritted teeth, feeling awful for rejecting the offer. 

“Well, is there any hobby you have that we can do together? Something we can do over the weekend?” Julianne begins insisting. 

“I don’t really have a lot. I’m getting old, so maybe woodwork but most of my hobbies are solitary”

“We can always meet at the library then. I don’t mind. Also, have you eaten dinner? Do you want to go out? I’ll pay tonight since you paid for the tickets.”

I struggled to reply to that. I really had no appetite today. Maybe a few pieces of bread would do today but the thought of the movie meet up tonight weighed upon my head even after the fact, I had lost the will to. I shook my head. 

I’ve been down this road before.

Except she was a lot more merciful in her methods. She left disappointed but she at least understood when to stop pushing my buttons.

“I’m being so pushy, am I? I don’t want to force you to do anything. You’re just so nice to me. I also wanna be nice to you.” She frowns, wrapping her tail around her waist for her to fidget with. We stop at the entrance of the red building. She looks back at me and slowly blinks.

“I’ll leave it at that for now. You really should eat dinner though. Thank you!”

I stood at the doorway for longer than I would have liked to admit.

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December 15, 1987

Last night, Woodbrook experienced its first gleanings of winter. This morning, my driveway was covered in snow. I figured that I should get the front of the house and shop cleared up as early as now to avoid delaying opening. And so I was up since 5, shovelling through snow and greeting school children before it was time I drove to town to do more of the same. 

Coming into the town proper, an alarm bell began ringing in my mind- it was calling for me to look around. I did not understand what I was watching for suddenly. There were no signals in the snow this morning. From the reflection on the glass though was a bright rose parka that my eyes followed into the corner to the church. Nobody else wears that bright of a color here.

Following the butterfly into the pews, I hung my head low and pretended to have a reason to be there. She was seated rows away from me, spending 20 more minutes praying the rosary. She broke out of that solemness and looked around her, turning her back and finally acknowledging my presence. Her cheeks warmed up as she smiled then hid her blushing as she quickly got up and signalled I should follow her. 

“Did..did anyone see that?”

“See what?”

“See me…”

I playfully wrapped my arm around her shoulder. Her cheek got redder, cautiously looking around the street for any onlookers. 

“Most people can’t put up a fight about it. Cut it out.” I reassured her “Wanna get a chocolate at Betsy’s?”

“I’m fine, I’ll be making pancakes at home. Do you want to come with me?”

We looked at a clock inside the still closed stationery store. It was 7 in the morning. The storefront was already clean anyway. 

“I’ll help cook them with you. I’m glad you asked, ‘cause I haven’t eaten anything since 5.”

“Five? I’ve been in church since five. It’s the first snow too.” She was holding out her tongue to taste the snow. 

“Yeah, just clearing out my road, and you don’t have work today?”

“Woodbrook Elementary suspended classes today due to how intense the snow was last night. I also thought that, yknow, 10 days til Christmas. Isn’t there a vigil mass leading up to Christmas at the start of the day? Guess not.” She was talking her head off, eyes still looking behind us. The church had long disappeared into the horizon and she was still distracting me from actually asking what I had come there for.

“No, they don’t. But there is a mass during Christmas Eve. Do you want us to go together?”

“No, no, no, no, I don’t..want to..go to Mass..going with..I’m just saying God would know I’m coming there with impure intentions or what have you.”

Her eyes avert away from where we’re walking and she tries to let go of the grip I have on her. I just continue to hold her closer. The heat in between us was already far too comfortable to let go of. She tried again and my hand just lowered itself to where it was holding her hip.

“No, I’m not letting you go, we still have a block away to walk. Nobody is out here anyway.”

It was an unusually empty Tuesday morning. Half the stores on this avenue were shut down and the foggy air obscured whatever might just be waking up right now. Everything was washed in cream and blues that Christmas ornaments and lights would cut through later in the day. But it was 7 in the morning. To the two of us, this could have been a 3 pm on any other season. 

“It’s safe for two girls or guys to hold hands at least here. Anything other than that is a gamble. I don’t think anyone has any balls in them to punch anyone over what we’re doing right now.”

“I mean..we’re just friends though, right?” Julianne quickly corrected me.

“Of course, of course. That’s why I was thinking if we could attend mass together then we’ll have Christmas dinner. How does that sound?”

“You’re Catholic too?”

I could feel myself trying to not burst into laughter at her silly question. That’s the worst you could assume of me. 

“Sorta” I lied.

“Then we can, as..you know..friends..and you just don’t have to look at me during Mass but..”

“Julianne, don’t think about the Mass part, think of what we’ll do when we get back to my house–” I held my breath and thoughtfully constructed what I would say next “-- What food we’re gonna be eating or what drinks I should prepare..do you drink alcohol? No, bad question, do you have an allergy somewhere? Are you okay with salmon steak for us both..?”

Julianne pulled out her keys when we got to the lobby of the apartment building, eyes following us to the room at the top of the complex.

“I do love salmon, what if we bake it though with buttered vegetables and cheese?”

Her face was red and warm, a hand similarly holding on to the small of my back in front of more people than she worried about. She excitedly talked about what she could cook for the night or what we’d be doing after.

The rosary on her neck heard every intention and desire regardless.

They know. And they’re rewarding her for it.

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December 25, 1987

“I told you” She whispered “Don’t look at me during the Mass.”

“Where else was I supposed to look?”

“I don’t know…the altar?” Julianne pouted again. She toyed with the silver heart on her chest since we got inside the truck. 

We were stuck in the traffic between the busiest roads in town. New cars were flowing in and out of town for vacation while most were rushing home for dinner or their reservations. Last year I spent the day in bed, watching movies alone, and hiding from the world. I was still well fed by at least three families sending me everything I wanted. I was eating a casserole and cookies under my table waiting for Spring. I did miss the formality of the night though. I used to spend it with the Albrights for over two decades. Now with them away, I was getting calls from all around town to stay over. But the message was clear this year. Julianne placed her hands back on the handles of her tupperware when the light turned green.

“It’s so nice that you made that baked salmon too. You didn’t need to.”

“You just wouldn’t tell me what else I could do for you after Annie. It’s all I can do.”

Regardless, I was fine with returning routine back into my holiday schedule. I was wandering in the dark again earlier this year, trailing off of last year’s habits. I remember I still absentmindedly bought a certain somebody’s favorite cakes on a Monday afternoon for what was our afternoon tea time. Luckily, I now had someone at awe of such simple treats like raspberry tarts. Her tail was happily straightened up admiring the gussied-up kitchen. A table for two, sharing two big casseroles of food, strawberry shortcake, raspberry tarts, and a whole bottle of wine. She straightened her white dress, looking back to me to politely gesture we take a seat.

“As friends, right?”

“To my dearest friend, Julianne.”

I know she doesn’t only think of me as her friend.

I’m a special case. An eyecatcher. And then a crush. Then a friend. Now her first suitor. 

She’s crawling inside and finding her space.

Her hand rests on top of mine as we eat.

Many, many more wordless gestures.

The lamb rests inside comfortably.

I could lock it inside now.

But when her eyes curiously glance over to mine, the pressure drops and I feel similarly airy. A fever rushes back to me. The feelings become reciprocal for a glean of a second.

It’s poisoning us both.

This Christmas I watched a girl put a whole strawberry in her mouth. Then she helped me wash the dishes and pack away the Christmas garb on my dining table. For one night I was not angry. I felt fine. I felt fuzzy around her.

She gave me a few new shirts and hid stickers at the bottom of the box because she noticed I had this notebook with me all the time.

I hid one of my old sweaters in between the folds of the dress I bought for her.

In the safety of my house, just before she left, I asked her to come closer when I began thanking her for coming over. I lost focus of what I was intending on doing then leaned over and kissed her forehead before telling her to run along now. It looked like she wanted to reciprocate back but she walked away from my porch with her hand on her head. 

If I was thinking clearly, I may have asked her to be mine instead.

But some things take time, right?

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January 1st, 1988

I wondered where she was last night. I called her up in the morning of the eve, then the afternoon, and later left a message on her machine instead the minute a new year passed. My eyes were always looking for her. She had to be wearing any sort of shade of pink or red. Rose was absent from the crowd of onlookers tonight. Last night I only looked at the display with a solemn emptiness. I figured that maybe Julianne would have preferred a plain sky. When the smoke cleared, I looked up to see her windows shut. Her lights were still on but not even a hint like the sound of my keys prompted her to open them.

But I could feel myself develop a dependence on her presence in an environment ever since. I see flowers spelling her initials or colors I’ve sworn looked out of place in a town dull without eccentricity. And even before anything was finalized, I was asked- “where’s Julianne?” by at least 3 people.

I guess we go in pairs now.

I couldn’t be embarrassed about it anymore. It was my lifestyle now, knocking on their door to come inside the red bricked apartment. It’s like they were almost expecting me, telling me she’s been in her apartment since December 30th. I’ll admit, I began to worry when I got to her front door. I was imagining the poor girl depressed on the floor. But when she opened the door, she just sighed in relief and told me to get inside as soon as possible. She was feeling a bit jumpy, she described staying far, far away from the windows as possible. The sound of firecrackers and fireworks startled the poor kitten. It was not isolation but caution.

Fireworks displays were anxiety inducing to her. She voluntarily hid away from the parade to keep her peace of mind.

“And yet…” Julianne whispered to herself “...people were still looking for me.”

“You’re already such an integral part of the town. People are going to go look for you.” 

“Days ago, I was approached by Guy near his store, and he confidently called me ‘Amy’.”

“But have you heard what they’re calling you, though? Like Pinky. Pinky is a popular nickname now.” I chuckled.

“Pinky…”

“I’m sure they all understand.”

“But were you disappointed I wasn’t there?”

“I guess I was. But you should just tell me fireworks freak you out sometimes..”

She wrapped her arms around me in loving suggestion, almost immediately retracting before resting on my chest fully.

“I heard there’ll be another fireworks show over at the edge of Centerville though… if you want to watch something with me tonight..”

“I’m fine..let’s just stay where we are.”

“Stay…” She echoed back to me, crawling closer and closer.

“You’re so close now, woah, what’s going on?”

“I’m not sure either. Do you?”

She sits herself on my thigh, arms wrapped around my shoulders as she lightly imitates initiation. She couldn’t keep a straight face though.

“Stay and watch the stars with me later.”

I tilted my head in flustered confusion. Sure I will. At least by now the smoke has settled. She slips her glasses off and leans into me, taking the initiation to kiss me first. 

The jumpiness transfers, shaking from her hand to mine to everybody. The burning and the electricity. How shocking. 

She loves me.

[altruisticenigma]

ADHD but at 28

Rambles below about navigating neurodivergency but in my late adulthood: So I started having this issue where I didn't want to go to work. That sounds so lazy, I know, except it was maddening: if my brain decided we weren't working, oh boy, we were not working that day. It progressively got worse over a year. I couldn't stop stressing out over what was wrong, or why I couldn't just push past it. It was very distressing as I used to define myself over how productive I was; I was known to overwork myself and go the extra mile all the time. Now I was doing a sudden 180 out of nowhere and I didn't know why. I couldn't for the life of me understand it, it made no sense at all. Why couldn't I just do it?

Over the summer I got myself tested by a neuropsych to figure out what could be hindering me other than my trauma. Turns out I have ADHD, which is what I suspected. This comes at a complete shock to me; I was a stellar student with no issues as a child; I showed no signs of any issues. I began to struggle in college but I chalked that up to me developing PTSD. But as I looked back... A lot of my symptoms made sense. I just made them work for me and was accommodating for my ADHD this entire time without realizing it. -I had the ability to hyperfixate on things as I saw fit; that's how I could study for 3-4 hours straight with no breaks. I was locked in. IDK why I lost this ability- maybe the work I'm doing is too predictable and therefore doesn't capture my attention- but I could literally sit there and do homework for hours with no issue. -I was organized. I had a planner and color-coded things. I kept important dates up on a calendar, too. I never lost track of things because I kept my life in order and liked to do so.

-I had anxiety. Anxiety kept me repeating stuff in my head (rumination) and so I wouldn't forget things or my anxiety would propel me forward out of fear if I didn't do x y or z. Now that I'm recovering well from anxiety, my ADHD is showing because I don't have that inherent fear anymore driving me forward.

So I'm suffering from extreme executive dysfunction, it looks like. Cool, I figured it out. I'm taking Adderall and it seems to fix things a bit for me, too. But... I still feel like I'm dying at work. I still feel like I need to peel my skin off because everything feels so excruciating. I'm fully aware my job is easy, I understand it and I'm good at it, but for some reason doing it now makes me want to perish. I want to get rid of this feeling but IDK how. Also, accommodating for ADHD NOW has been a pain in the ass. My hyperfixations are INTENSE and now they're not on productive things (blessing and a curse). I have to sift through habits and lifestyle things I do that may actually be harming me in the long run; just the other day I realized I had real bad time anxiety and would check the time too much. I covered up the time on my computers and it fixed a lot of it. So many small things I do habitually I gotta pay attention to to accommodate for it now. Navigating this has been Hell. I'm still not through it, but I'm at least SOMEWHERE instead of nowhere like I was months ago.

[alistarascendance]

author i am so hyperfixated on ur story,,, ANNND since u know about MBTI, what are the ROs’ MBTI if u don’t mind sharing??

lots of love x

oh, hello! so sorry for the late reply, I don’t check this account all too often 🥲 I’m planning on reworking a:a to make it much more fantasy + focused on the story of alistar as a legendary being rather than a normal human, which is kind of ironic, given that a bit of alistar wants to be normal—but I think a fantastical tale would be better for them.

I LOVE mbti. I’m an INTJ myself. As for the ROs… that’s a really fun question. I’ll do all characters, honestly, while I’m at it.

Seven

honestly, kind of an INTP… he’s very curious and has questions for everything. very imaginative, hence the N. he can be a bit dense when it comes to social interactions, even though he himself has a bit of a flirty streak, haha. likes being around people but I’d still say he’s more of an I type. P is a no brainer. T is debatable.

realistically, I don’t think he’d be an INTP (he’s more of an F type, so maybe INFP?) but he certainly has some INTP tendencies. essentially, I’d say he’s a mix of INTP and INFP. or maybe even an ENFP… haha, okay, I’d say ENFP now that I’m thinking about it. ENFP it is!

Saturn

I type for sure. S type also for sure. T is possible, but he also might be an F type. I think he cares a lot about people in general, even if he doesn’t know them personally. I know I’ve said that Saturn is lawful neutral, but now I’m a bit conflicted. I think he always has good intentions. So, yeah, F type. He’s also definitely a J. Stresses out a lot if he doesn’t have a plan.

So, he’s a pretty strong ISFJ :)

Orion

I, N, T, J. Yeah… this one wasn’t all that hard. The first three are obvious. Maybe he’d be a P type, but he seems like he’d sit down and strategize for three hours just to take a five minute stroll down the block. He’s got a bit of that cold, emotionless stoic guy trope that I’m not all too fond of, so we’ve gotta break him out of that eventually. I’ll figure out how someday 🙏

Chain

INT…P. Yep. INTP it is. He’s an extroverted introvert, but an introvert regardless. Might be S type but I doubt it. T is strong. P is also pretty strong. He’s not all too big on plans unless it’s related to his grand master scheme 😩

Argos

ENFJ or INFJ. Probably INFJ. Creative, imaginative guy that cares about people to the point that it debilitates him. Plans things ahead of time. Sounds about right.

Teacher

I’m guessing that 90% of you were waiting for this, bahahaha. Okay, well, let’s see. I don’t think that it’s fully right to restrict something inhumane by something as human as the mbti, but we did it for Argos, so we can do it for Teacher 😍😍 Teacher would probably be an ISTJ or INTJ.

I don’t want to repeat INTJ, but it feels a little wrong to say that he isn’t one. But, then again, I’m not all too sure myself, honestly, so ISTJ / INTJ it is! Orion probably also could be an ISTJ instead of an INTJ, but… I’m not going back to edit it 😔

[jelly-of-many-ships]

Intersting experience in math class:

I was doing some work while listening to the good omens soundtrack because it helps me focus and I love remembering which scene each track is from. Anyway, David Arnold (the composer) also composed most of the music for BBC Sherlock, which I don’t think too many people know (He’s amazing and I love literally everything he makes). And so when I finished the good omens album it started playing other music by the artist, which in this case, happened to be the BBC Sherlock intro.

I have not heard that song in almost a year in a half. BBC Sherlock was like a canon event for me, it was the first real fandom I joined and it introduced me to tumblr, fanfiction, and literally every concept associated with fandoms. Most pieces media Ive consumed, and definitely every fandom i’ve joined since then has been in some way because of tumblr, or other fandom spaces. Even good omens, which I am currently hyperfixating on to a frankly concerning extent, I was only introduced to via the domino effect of BBC Sherlock.

Why is this important? idk...backstory I guess? whatever, anyways, after awhile a fell more and more out of interest with Sherlock, and while I’d definitely still consider myself in the fandom, I’m just not really that into it anymore, especially since the rest of the fandom isn’t very active either. The year when my interest was the strongest was a very interesting time. I was really insecure and not very happy, but I had some amazing people in my life who I really miss. These two things, I think, are possibly the worst combination to have in terms of nostalgia, and I find that experiencing things that remind me of this period feels very strange. For example I physically cannot listen to some of the songs I added to my playlist around this time without getting really emotional, but I refuse to delete them because they really do feel like a part of me. From time to time I do remember the bad things and maybe feel a bit upset, and yet if I could go back, I know I would, just to remember what it was like to experience it all.

I don’t think I could ever fully explain it but BBC Sherlock genuinely felt like opening a very weird portal, and so when in the middle of math class, immediately after listening to the good omens track ��the end?” and vividly imagining the end credit scene of season two, the Sherlock intro started playing, I felt such a strange mix of awe and nostalgia that I almost started crying. It sounds pretty stupid typing this up, but it was such a unique experience, and I don’t think I can really explain it. Good Omens is the only thing I’ve been even somewhat interested in to the extend of Sherlock, and after listening to possibly the most depressing song of the entire show, to have such a sharp reminder of who I used to be blast full volume into my head felt like diving headfirst into cold water. It really does sound stupid, but in that exact moment I remembered everything; the evening I heard that song for the first time, staying up for hours scrolling through pinterest and discovering the fandom, the first day I told my friends about it, the day i read my first fanfic, the day I was so convinced they were gay I accidentally discovered shipping (lol), the night I finished season 4, alone, at 2am, the day I joined tumblr, the week I learned how to play “the game is on” on piano, and the lunch period I wrote my first fic after daydreaming about it for weeks.

These things probably seem pretty mundane, but this was like a new world to me. They represent more than just discovering I new interest though. They’re some of the only memories I have of that time. I cut my hair, I realized I was queer, and for the first time in my entire life I had an actual friendgroup, one that I still care about so much. Life was, at the same time horrible, yet the best it had ever been, and I didn’t even know it. When I really think about It, I realize in actuality how little time has really passed, but everything feels so different. I think to myself that there’s no way that person was me, that the kid who had so much energy and enthusiasm for life, poetry and writing and had yet never felt so insecure couldn’t have possibly turned into the burnt out, powerless person I feel I am today.

At least I’m not so insecure anymore? I’m not so sure what to say. All I know, is I think that moment in math class made me realize how much I’ve grown, how much I appreciate those experience I got to have, and how much that song will always mean to me.

[popironrye]

Lost Boys: What about ✨ Star? ✨

Purely theoretical of course, basing off portions of the movie we don't see and therefor can fill in the gaps with our own assumptions. A Headcanon if you will.

Watched this movie again, hyperfixating on characters again...let's talk about Star. :3

The love interest and initial conflict that gets the vampire portion with the main characters going. But what else is there? Well first things first, how did she get involved with the lost boys anyway?

I like to think the boys were open to turning someone if the right situation arose, like say Star is a runaway with nowhere to go. Kiefer Sutherland himself expressed his own interpretation of David as someone who's lonely. Perhaps Max was straight forward about growing the vampires in his own twisted view of growing a family. I mean, why else were the boys be ok with dragging Laddie around with them? Hell, you want to get really weird, maybe Max pushed the boys to get a girl specifically to act, not so much a den mother, but just a female presence to keep them in check?

Motives aside, there's clearly a conflicted clash of intentions from the moment Star meets Michael and when she meets him the second time, and here's what I think. I don't believe David wanted Michael to be Star's first kill necessarily. I think he absolutely wanted her to scope the boardwalk with the intention of catching some doe eyed horny boy to lead on. Really any boy would have done it. Michael was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I also think Star isn't really good at that sort of thing, given that when Michael did follow her she hops on with David; a clear sign she's taken and it's only sheer luck Michael was persistent in wanting to push his luck with her, despite David's presence. However, I fully believe Star was still intending to feed from Michael as her first kill.

When she meets up with him again, she's very receptive to Michael's mild flirting. When he asks her to grab something to eat, she agrees. I believe Star was gonna go with Michael with intentions to kill him, but Max has absolutely already talked to David and the boys about who Michael is and how he wants them to turn him as an attempt to get to Lucy at this point. So they ride up to stop them. What seems like a move of jealousy to Michael and the audience turns into something more if it's true that Star was gonna kill him and David had to step in to make sure she didn't. It's why I think all David had to do was ask her where she was going, and Star answered she was going with Michael. There wasn't a lot of dialogue but Star was intending to leave the boys to go with Michael but when David says her name again, it's clear to her that plans have changed and all she could think to do was listen to David and get back on his bike. I mean, why else would she go back to David, fear? I don't think so. That's another thing, David's go to immediately after was to pressure Michael into riding with them. Push him to see how far he'd go.

Far enough he got punched in the face for it. I believe if that was anyone else in Michaels shoes, they would have eaten him alive right then and there, but because Max wants David and crew to turn Michael into a vampire he takes him back to the cave. It also makes sense if David is good at reading people, and sees Michael the same way I do. A young man, raked with anxiety in a new place, and desperate to find a way to fit in. He just needed to prod to see how desperate.

Back to Star! She clearly doesn't vibe with the boys as much as they do with each other. I refuse to humor the sexist idea she couldn't be apart of them just because she's girl. Instead I just think she was new to the whole vampire thing. Because of that, she's not privy to a lot and I point to one line that proves this.

"You're the secret that David was protecting." She doesn't know who Max is, and David made sure of that. Now that the movie is all said and done, I would kill for additional parts where Star buts heads with David more. I think after the whole thing with Michael happened, Star wanted to know why he wanted to turn him after the plan was for her to kill him, and David's response was merely 'it's a secret'. This is also where I think Stars intentions changed. She went from wanting to kill Michael to her having second thoughts about the whole thing, not made any easier if David is a dick to her off-screen. Now she sees Michael as her way out. When he comes back to the cave all confused, Star doesn't offer him any answers; instead she offers him sex. At this point she does have feelings for him of course, but I like to think she wants him to find a way out being a vampire and he'll find a way to get her out too.

Idk, maybe I'm over thinking character motives again, but what do you guys think?

[azurbee]

yeah, ive been consumed by the hyperfixation... Anyways this is Hugo and Fin, two traumatized idiots

Lore under cut

So like, obviously there would be several more experiments to lead to humans having gills and all that and Hugo and Fin ended up being some of the earlier experiments or maybe somewhere along the testing phases.

Basically these two were meant to be experiments that weren't expected to be used or work, thus the reason why Hugo is a manta ray and while manta rays can go beyond 1,000 meters, they still wouldn't really be able to go deeper than that. Fin had gone through the same experimentation as Hugo but from some reason nothing ever took effect which led the scientists to throw more shit at him for stuff.

Hugo and Fin were childhood friends before being sent to prison. However, Fin had a rather abusive family and Hugo constantly tried to get him to run away from them. Eventually, things got really bad, and Fin would've most likely been killed if Hugo hadn't stepped in and ended up killing Fins parents and so on. (yes this is the best reason I could come up with for sending them to jail hhhh) Hugo turned himself in but Fin felt so guilty with how much he had done for him that he also took the blame.

After Hugo fully turned into a manta ray he caught wind of how much more they're doing to Fin and he had enough of it. Since he was a bigger than normal manta ray he slowly built up as much electricity as he could to cause a power out so that way he has a chance to get to Fin and flee. He fought tooth and nail through the facility, but eventually he had to go through the vents with Fin because of the injuries he sustained.

more stuff happens they make it out and there only escape was into the facility in the game im tired

They're mainly just trying to survive in the facility while also trying to figure a way out without detection and the whole time Fin is notably sick from all of the experiments conducted on him and Hugo easily accepted his new body.

anyways uhhhhhhhh hope nothin bad happens :)

[fortemelody]

chat i had the biggest ghost and pals hyperfixation when i was 14…like it was so bad every fucking math class i would use my airpods secretly and listen to the songs on repeat while also drawing the characters on my paper. and when i wasn’t doing that i was just constantly thinking about it and looking up shit on the wiki and joining discord servers about it…

btw the fandom is so ass (or at least was?) a lot of people were obnoxious asf

i legit had to pry myself away from it becus i was like chronically online at that point 💀 not blaming that one on the fandom or franchise honestly it was my own fault but i’m just saying it made matters worse

and yet i still revisit it every couple months and have such a strong urge to draw the characters once again aughdkfkfkr but i think it’s a healthy relationship now so that’s good

my friend even got me a tamari plush which was legit the last song/character i remember seeing new content of before fully leaving the fandom which was kinda ironic (but not complaining at all it’s adorable i cherish it and i’m pretty sure it took months/years to come so i was prob into it when it was ordered)

i was also so deep that i listened to most of the songs in the marz mitzi era and i tried to listen to some of those again and good god they hurt my ears (in the most respectful way possible; i cannot make music for the life of me and i obviously know that ghost improved)

anywayssss uhm just wanted to say black and white is an underrated gem and the whole communications case could honestly be like turned into some prime time tv type shit and it would blow up i guarantee IM GIVIN YALL FREE IDEAS HERE!!!!

lastly i also wanted to see if anyone is in the fandom currently and wanted to be mutuals and like maybe fill me in on stuff if you want LMAO cus i’ll see art of like pathological facade and new songs that i don’t even know the name of now and feel like i’m old 😭 i know i just spent half of this post shitting on it but like i said some of it was my own fault and the franchise itself genuinely does hold a place in my heart

[morimakesfanart]

Sindria's Prophet #37

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19] [20] [21] [22] [23] [24] [Intermission] [25] [26] [27] [28] [29] [30] [31] [32] [33] [34] [35] [36]

[AO3] [wattpad]

*CW-Long term affects of medical denial & child abuse, living with PTSD *Kink & toys mentioned

((I keep forgetting to tell you guys: Lyly is pronounced "lee-lee." It's short for their middle name, Llyn/Lynn (<-genderfluid affected spelling)))

~POV Mori~ I woke up gasping. I sat up and wrapped my arms around myself so I could tell the difference between actual physical touch and the phantoms left over from my night terror. My body wouldn't stop shaking; I needed Lyly's help. When I got out of bed I froze. Not only did my bed not have curtains, this wasn't my room. No. This was my room. Sinbad picked it out for me in the guest tower. I was in Sindria; in a whole different dimension. All of the adrenaline supporting me left and I sank to the floor. I was still trembling but I wasn't scared anymore. The people who hurt me couldn't reach me here. I had that dream because after spending the past month hyperfixated on the present, I had been triggered into remembering one of the worst parts of my past, so now I was remembering the rest too. 'Sorry, Lyly.' The safety I had gained in this world was invaluable. I couldn't imagine going home willing. Based on how little light was getting through the curtains it was still the middle of the night. I was drained from my dream, and my hips were still aching but it took a while for my mind to calm back down. Tomorrow and the distractions that came from it couldn't come soon enough.

--- "Alright now, Mx. Prophet," the doctor gave me my diagnosis. Sinbad had him sent first thing in the morning, and his arrival woke me up. "You need to rest for a few days. I'll have painkillers sent over to help with your hip pain, fever, and migraine." With his job done, he saw himself out. 'I can't miss the Morning Assembly! ...But-!' I knew the doctor was right deep down. I was in no condition to do much of anything. I was fine resting when I didn't have obligations, but I had a job now. If I was back home I would have had to give Lyly my keys so I couldn't leave. Five years just wasn't enough to fully rewrite my base instincts. Although, from the new memories I was gaining, the me back home was doing a bit better. Those new memories were why I was healed and practiced enough to stop myself even if a doctor hadn't told me to... especially since I had a fever. As long as both me's kept whatever this connection was then maybe we would also keep the benefits from both sides. --- ~POV Sharrkon~ Mori was the only person that missed the morning Assembly. Yamuraiha had a growing smile throughout the meetings, and now that it ended she mumbled something to Pisti. Shar groaned; he knew where this was going. "Yup." Pisti giggled. "I heard from a reliable source," probably 1 of her boyfriends, "that Mori's not 'sick'. Her hips were injured and her body over worked last night." The King refused to look at the gossips. His silence spoke volumes compared to the past month of him adamantly defending that there was nothing special between him and 'his Beautiful Prophet.' "Oh ho~! It finally happened after I left!" Hina slapped Sharrkan on the back with a laugh. "Looks like the 2 of us have to pay up! But I guess you lost the most, huh?" "Oh, no! I ain't paying nothing! Nothing happened!!" Shar had a hurt ego to nurse and he would not let them step on it harder. "Mori got hurt dancing. Our King had nothing to do with it!" Sharrkon felt a shiver run down his spine that made him hold his tongue. Hina looked to the others for confirmation. "Is that true?" Drakon answered him. "It's true. However, it's also true that Sin carried Mori all the way to their room from the festival." "Oh~? That's proof enough for me." Drakon, Ja'far, Yam, and Pisti agreed with their own comments. The man in question still refused to comment, so Hinahoho addressed him directly. "You're really not going to say anything, Sin? After all of that time, telling us how you don't want to get married?" "Fine. Fine." King Sinbad finally turned to them with his arms crossed. "It's simple really. You know I'm not the type to reveal my hand until I'm certain." Sinbad was smiling, but Shar knew instinctually the King was the threat that told him to stop talking. The giant laughed. "Is that so?" "I know you're aware this is a first for me." Sharkkon's wallet cried with him. He had lost 2 out of 3 bets. It was only a matter of time before he lost the 3rd.

---- ~POV Mori~ The Great Bell rang out. The morning Assembly was definitely over. There were several things I had wanted to do today, and I couldn't do any of them since I had to rest. I needed to meet with Queen Artemina before she left Sindria. I had to solidify our connection as allies, but she was set to leave in a day. As I wrote a letter to send her, the waves shifted. This was the right choice for me, and the future I wanted. The letter would need time to dry before I could send it. I got up from my chair and stopped. I didn't want to lay down again yet no matter how much my body needed it. 'Damnit! How much more of my life am I going to spend sick??' I groaned into my hands. I was born with a weak raspatory system, so I get sick multiple times a year and often end up bedridden. "I am allowed to rest even though I can sit up and walk. Pushing will only make it worse." My mom eventually stopped acknowledging when I would get sick due to the expense which is why I struggle to let myself rest as an adult. I made a point of putting the truth into words to fight her conditioning. I climbed back in bed even though I knew that meant I would be stuck with just my thoughts until I fell back asleep. This was the perfect opportunity to process everything that had happened with Sinbad, but I couldn't think about it at all. Being triggered, recognizing these new memories, and that night terror just made me think about home more -well the place I came from. Even when I was in my room there I often couldn't help but think 'I want to go home' because even though it was comfortable and familiar, I couldn't feel safe. My last therapist told me that as long as I stayed in that house full of reminders there was only a slim chance of me recovering from my CPTSD. If only I could have afforded to move out.

In the new memories I got, our dad finally agreed to reorganize all of the living spaces, so that me and Lyly weren't getting as many flashbacks anymore. Hell, he even apologized for everything and started acting like a real dad some of the time. The me that stayed home was able to persevere until an opening for change finally came. 'If they got Isekai now I wonder if they would want to go home?' The thought had never occurred to this me -just like it never did back when I was in in-patient. Although I was still worried about Lyly like I was then. I rolled over to pull out a scroll from the bedside dressers. When I was on the ship I had worked on all sorts of scrolls and one was a memoir of my life back home. One of the first things I did was draw the people important to me before I'll inevitably forget their faces. I unrolled the scroll. Lyly's face stared up at me from the page. As difficult as that place was to live in all of my loved ones were there. In this world there was no one that knew me, and I wasn't sure if I could let my self get that close to anyone here -especially Sinbad. He already knew how deep some of the scars on my heart are. I didn't want him to think any less of me, or use my pain against me. And even more than that, I was scared that the safety I had here would shatter if I made a wrong step. 'I thought I was doing better.' This world had treated me so well that I fell into a false sense of security. Not being surrounded by reminders of my traumas made me feel like I was somehow cured and could restart from scratch. But that's not how healing works... Being away from triggers just made it easier to avoid having an attack. It's only after feeling safe that we let ourselves feel the emotions that are unsafe to feel in the moment. A few tears fell down my cheeks. I placed the scroll on the bedside table and rolled back towards the middle of the bed. Surely it was okay for me to cry in a situation like this. I allowed myself the luxury even though the tears didn't last long. When I was young I cried just as often from joy as sadness. The abuse I experienced made it unsafe to cry at all, so I learned to cry silently until I eventually stopped crying altogether. Being in this world made me feel like it was okay again. Letting myself actually feel these emotions was an important step in the healing process. Beating myself up for getting triggered and relapsing wouldn't help at all. I needed to forgive myself.

--- One day of rest should be enough, right? It's not like I still had a fever. I didn't want to stay in my room and make an even worse impression. My hips would hurt a little if I over worked them, but that would just act as a limiter. ((<<= This person is in denial))

I got dressed after breakfast, but as soon as I grabbed the doorknob I froze. "Yeah, no." I was not in the mood to see Sinbad in person yet, and I would have to if I left my room. As soon as I took Queen Sinbad's choker back off I felt a wave of relief. It had given me so much dopamine and serotonin when it was part of a fantasy, but now it was a reminder of my fears. How could I mark myself with it when I couldn't feel safe in my own desires? Wearing it felt like a lie. I definitely wouldn't be able to wear it for a while.

'Guess I haven't completely lost my sense of self-preservation.' Besides, I hadn't actually had time to do most of the things I like doing to relax since I got to this world. Going out in this state would be worse than not going out. Another day off as I recover from the stress had to be reasonable.

But what options did I have to relax?

Everyone else was busy with work at this time of day, so I could masturbate without having to worry about being interrupted. But my toybox didn't isekai with me; I only have my hands, and some ribbons for mild shibari. Sinbad said I could make requests, but there was no way in hell I was letting him find about this, let alone use his money for my sex toys. I'll figure out where to get some after payday. The night terror was still fresh in my memory anyway.

Video games, comics, and anime were obviously out of the question. Printing still isn't big enough for fiction to be popular to write -that's part of why Sinbad's Adventure story was such a huge success. I had 3 cats back home, but I can't exactly adopt a new pet while sick. I do sing a lot to relieve stress, but it would be embarrassing to be overheard without knowing. 'Note to self: get carpets to hang up to dampen the sound.' There were places I could go that would be harder to be heard but leaving wasn't an option until I was better. That only left me: writing and drawing.

'Working on Fate scrolls it is!'

The flow of ink was good for my brain. It did more than help calm me; it gave me more perspective but it couldn't give me true answers. 'I wish we could just go back to how things were before that night. How am I supposed to know when I will be ready to see Sinbad again?' He isn't any of the people that hurt me, so why can't I just like him without being afraid of betrayal?

Were Sinbad's actions manipulation, or earnest? Could I trust the safety I felt around him? It was definitely a combination of how he treated me, what I knew from reading his Fate, and how familiar I was with being around those types of manipulation. But there was something strange. When I looked for signs of his manipulation in how he dealt with me, or any expected fallout, nothing came from it. In fact, everything kept ending in my favor. The cycle I was expecting was coming from me, not Sinbad. The waves swirled as I finally let myself think about it.

What was he actually going to say when I cut him off? Even if it was what I thought, would I be able to believe him? Even if I didn't have relationship trauma I don't think I could trust him romantically after reading his Fate. He claimed he wasn't playing the flirting game, but that could have been manipulation. Was it my heart or pride that would be hurt more if he was lying? I couldn't tell yet.

I was lonely. Both in general, and in this world. There was no one that knew me here. And I was too scared to trust the person getting closest to my heart. Even though I didn't want to be seen like this, I didn't actually want to be alone; I just couldn't shake the fear of rejection or punishment I thought was inevitable. I left my windows open just in case. ---

~POV Sinbad~ The King sat on the edge of Mori's bed. He had been unable to visit the first time she was sick. Now that he understood his own feelings he couldn't stay away unless he was on the other side of the world. The only reason he didn't visit the first day was because he knew she needed space away from him. The waves had been trying to guide him here for a while though. Who was he to deny them? No one answered the door when he knocked or called out. The silence and waves worried him. The last report said her current fever was mild, but it could have spiked since then. Mori developed an extremely high fever on the ship several hours after everyone saw she was unwell. He entered without permission only to find his Beautiful Prophet was sleeping peacefully. He had gotten to see her; that would have to be enough. Mori turned her head in her sleep and her bangs fell onto her eye lashes. Sinbad leaned over to move her hair out of the way. He tried to keep his touch light to not wake her, but her eyes fluttered open. Unfocused eyes watched him. "Sin..?" The sound of their voice was a relief. It didn't sound strained at all, only weak from sleep.

"How are you feeling?" They weren't anywhere near as bad as last time. "~*yawn* Better now that I'm awake." "Oh? Did you have a bad dream?" They watched him as what he asked slowly processed in their newly conscious state. "Yeah, I did. Thank you for waking me." "Anytime." Sinbad returned their weak smile with his own. "I guess that's why it wasn't just my waves leading me here." He hesitated. "Mori, what do you think about moving into the Purple Leo Tower? It will be easier to care for you when you get sick. You'll be safer there. And your waves could reach me faster." The same fear from the other night started seeping into their expression. "I'm fine here." But he wasn't fine. "Besides, it will be harder when I have to move out of the Palace." For a moment he forgot how to breathe. "Why would you have to move out?" Why would she ever think she had to leave?? "Would you really be okay with me staying after my visions run out?" The King couldn't stop his hand from reaching to caress their cheek, but he was able to hold back from making contact. "Of course." Mori's brow creased farther and they glanced at his hand. "What about after I share all the knowledge I have from my world? I wasn't an engineer. I only know the basics." Sinbad's heart dropped. From the beginning Mori had been marketing herself as a resource, and he had only ever responded positively. Yet another way he'd messed up without even realizing it. "Of course, I'll still want you by my side." The more he was able to peer into Mori's heart the more worried he got. "You are a person, not a resource. You do know that, don't you?" Mori closed their eyes and leaned their head towards his hand; he took that as permission. Their cheek didn't feel feverish. They spoke flatly about their emotions like they did the night of the Announcement. "I know that logically, but I struggle with knowing how to act if I'm not helping someone." They brought a hand up to his. "I really do like helping people, but sometimes it feels like that's all I am. It's what I had to do to survive since I was little." Ah. He could understand that thought process. Sinbad had been a caregiver for his mother and village from a very young age, and went straight from that to king's candidate. There was very little time in his life when he wasn't working towards helping someone. Drinking, and philandering became his break from that -although he would hopefully be narrowing that last point to one person soon. "You seemed to do just fine at the festival." So fine that he couldn't deny his feelings anymore. "Huh? -Oh. Yeah. I guess I did." Her expression softened into a genuine smile. "It was probably going around the festival that got me sick though." It was mainly stress according to the doctors' report. Mori closed her eyes with a yawn. "I'll have to keep more distance between me and the citizens next time. I didn't realize I was so interesting." "You're incredibly interesting." They let out a quiet chuckle. "If you say so." Sinbad watched and felt as they turned their face into his palm, and sighed. Mori relaxed more into his hand with each breath as if his scent and touch were comforting. It bubbled up desires he knew he shouldn't act upon with a sick or unconscious person and yet he couldn't make himself leave either. He took a moment to ground himself but it did little good. He couldn't bring himself to leave until after Mori let go of his hand. To think another person would have this much power over him. "You really are amazing." There was absolutely no way he'd ever allow anyone else to see this side of them. Mori would be moved to the Purple Leo Tower in time, and would just have to learn through experience that he had no intentions of letting them go. ---

~POV Mori~ I woke up to the Great Bell the next morning. Sinbad being here was not a dream. I had just been too groggy to question the situation. What was the point of staying home, if he was going to visit me in person?

On the plus side, seeing Sinbad while I wasn't stuck in my trauma brain helped break the cycle of questions. Sinbad might be stubborn but through his whole life he is shown being someone fully willing to change his mind when given enough information. At this point in the story he is someone with conviction who says his truth directly -even if he often speaks in a manipulative way. So when he said he's chosen a new path, he meant it -even if I don't know what that means yet. And when he is shown seducing women, the idea of moving any of them into the Purple Leo Tower would never be considered, let alone offered -even in private. And yet he offered that to me.

Sinbad was changing and I'd never be able to accept how if I stayed cooped up in my room. To understand myself, and Sinbad I needed to spend more time around him. My rest was over. I didn't need to jump all the way in at once. I'd see him at the morning Assemblies, swap pleasantries, and part ways until the next day. 'Slow and steady.' --- ~POV Sinbad~ Was this how Hina and Drakon felt when they looked at their wives before they got together? Just seeing Mori enter the halls of the White Capricorn Tower made his heart swell. And hearing their voice? Well, he was starting to understand why Ja'far had been so upset with him since they returned from Balbadd. Even seeing Mori dressed androgynously didn't shake his feelings -though it was a bit jarring after how they dressed for the Announcement. It just cemented that what he felt wasn't simply based on how Mori presented. They were undeniably the most beautiful person in the world to him now.

After going through more options than necessary, the first thing the Dungeon Capturer managed to say to Mori was, "I'm happy to see you're feeling better."

"Yes. And thank you for visiting me while I was resting." Mori's smile made him feel at peace. Seeing them up close confirmed that they cut their bangs some. "But never enter my room without explicit permission again." Their sharper tone pierced him repeatedly with each sentence. "That includes the bird by the way. If my curtains are closed or I don't answer the door: don't enter my room."

He wore a smile to ease their anger. "Of course. It won't happen again."

Even as Mori accepted his response and left, the King couldn't get his heart to stop racing. Why did there have to be so many large risks of ruining his chances when he already knew she liked him from reading his Fate?

--- ~POV Mori~

As soon as the Assembly was over, I fled to the Black Libra Tower. 'He said he was happy I was better! AND he didn't say anything about about my change of gender expression!' Sinbad said all of two words directly to me and I started short circuiting. I remembered that he offered to move me to his tower -the one he sleeps in???- and immediately went on the defensive. I was not as ready as I thought!! I was going to need my favorite hyperfixation to survive the rollercoaster I was trapped on. And if it didn't exits yet, then I was going to reinvent it myself! It would be relatively easy to make a printing press since this fanfic was in English instead of whichever Arabic language was the region's canonical one, or Japanese like the series was originated in. Both require significantly more characters than English, and some kanji can be too intricate to make with this world's current level of technology. Speaking of which, this world had stamps and seals so this next level of printing shouldn't be too crazy of a change. I took some print making classes in high school and college, so I got to use a few different scale printing presses. I knew enough to draft prototypes. I excelled at typography in college too -so well that the department head signed off on me skipping a few courses so I could get to the high level stuff faster. The typography was digital, but I still learned enough to draft prototypes of stamps and such. ('A shame I couldn't afford higher than an Associates Degrees.) Since I was working on a table in the middle of one of the libraries, people came up to ask me about what I was doing. I gave a brief summary to the latest onlooker, before I pointed to the examples I was drafting. "I see." His voice was familiar but I was too focused to register it. The person moved around the table to read the part I had finished this morning. He made a few sounds of recognition as he read. "Won't spelling out each word every time be a hassle?" "Well, yeah. It's better to have most words premade. And full lines of text can be fused together to make reprinting more issues easier and faster." He pointed to a spot on the parchment. "Ah- that's what this part is then." My eyes were drawn to the glint of his rings. Every cell in my body remade itself as my brain finally acknowledged who was talking to me. "That is convenient." Sinbad's voice was unmistakable now that I was paying attention. I prayed to every God I knew of that my emotions didn't show in my actions or voice. "This might be a new technology here, but you won't have to completely reinvent the wheel thanks to my 'visions.'" I had to focus on my breathing to keep my heart rate down. I was able to keep the conversation moving, but I wasn't sure I would remember it well. I was more focused on not looking like an idiot. We had exchanged greetings at the morning assembly but this was the first time I was talking to him fully sober in days. His polite gestures and this conversation made my heart swell, but he wasn't flirting; he was just existing while being attractive. 'Why did I have to start thinking it could be mutual??? I can't even enjoy it like this!' If anything starts there's going to be an end.

--- ~POV Sinbad~ Sinbad didn't have a 'real' reason for visiting Mori in Black Libra Tower on their first day back, but, as King, there was no one who would question him. Although, Ja'far would come to get him if he's away from his responsibilities for too long. He arrived a bit after lunch to find Mori sitting at a table in the middle of the library where anyone could and did come talk to them. The proof being that they didn't beat an eye at his questions. In fact, it sounded like they had explained about this stamp system multiple times. Mori needed their own office in the tower. He'd make sure they got one asap. As interesting as this new technology was, Sinbad kept finding himself staring at his Beautiful Prophet more. It was hard enough to focus at his own desk -let alone when Mori was right in front of him. Sinbad had heard that acknowledging the feeling makes it stronger, but he wasn't expecting this. Mori tensed for a moment before scooting their chair away from him. He had been leaning closer to them without realizing, and they moved away. How was this the same person that fell asleep holding his hand the previous day? Were they just too tired back then to remember what was going on? Did they think it was a dream? He definitely shouldn't flirt with them while they were this uncomfortable to be around him. Would they even be willing to hold his arm while they walked together? He didn't think so. Sinbad took a moment to ground. Even if Mori had turned into a feral cat or wild rabbit around him, the way they watched him when they thought he wasn't looking was a sign that they wouldn't mind being tamed by him. They had enjoyed his company before; he just needed to remind them of that. The only question was if he could regain Mori's trust before he had to leave for the Kou Empire.

((OMGOSH I did not expect this to take this long. At least a month of that gap was from back-to-back illness too, so it took even longer. My digestive track turned off for 24 hours and took 48 to fully come back online. While I was in recovery I caught a really bad upper raspatory infection that gave me a 103F fever for a week. So of course my period hit me like a freight train a week later. Somehow I was ill the weeks around the holidays and not on them, but it was a still a super rough couple of weeks. I'm better now :D which is why I was able to have the energy to write.

I processed a lot of my emotions while working on these chapters. They're all things I already knew, but consolidating them like this helped me see more of the places they were affecting me, and cement in my head that it is okay to move forward. :D

This arc is 3 chapters long including this one. Since I do have the next 2 written already, I just need to refine them and make the art, so there shouldn't be as long as a break for the next chapter. Like this chapter, they will have scenes of Mori processing their emotions. I needed a lot of time to edit them down a ton since there's obviously things I don't intend to post on the internet, and I want the story to feel good to read chapter to chapter. I've already got the next arc started too. It's a lot of character confrontations that became discarded drafts of earlier arcs, but definitely need to happen now. Since I have those drafts as a basis, I hope to get that arc ready before I finish posting this one. I have another DeadEnd chapter to post, and a few one shots I almost have ready. I've been posting wips and art for for them on patreon, but I won't be posting them here until I have full chapters ready U-U))

[cressthebest]

i want to start this out by saying that if this ask is something that you are not comfortable answering or talking about please don’t answer it bc some of this might be a little personal.

i saw in one of your posts about you being ex-catholic and i was curious about that. i’m a catholic person that goes to a catholic school, in a catholic town, with a catholic family. i’ve been really thinking about being catholic recently and my problems with it. i was wondering if you could share a little of your experience with me? again if this is too personal please ignore i don’t want to pry into your life.

i promise i wasn’t ignoring this, i just suck at answering asks 😔 which is unfortunate because i love receiving asks and talking about myself

and i have no concept of person space/personal questions, so honestly it’s all chill

but my experience honestly only got worse with time. when i was little, things were more fun, as things typically are when you’re young. i was always bored in church, but i liked wearing pretty dresses and singing the songs. this post will go over a lot of uncomfortable topics and will be quite personal. you’ve been warned. blep. 👁️👅👁️

the first step, which is ignored for a long time was drumroll …. masturbation. i didn’t learn about it from books or fanfic or porn or anything. i was just a kid (maybe 13) and figuring out my body, which included being curious about why touching down there in certain ways felt good. once i realized what it was and that it was a sin, i started to struggle a lot. 1. it felt good and i didn’t want to stop feeling good in that way. 2. but it’s a sin and god did not approve.

for non-catholics reading, in catholicism we do something called confession. it’s where we go to a priest and tell him all our sins. the priest acts as god, and when you tell him this, it’s basically telling god. he then forgives you and gives you a penance, which is typically just a set of prayers to say. and they’re NOT ALLOWED to tell anyone else your sins.

well i was a regular confession attendee, but i could never bear to tell the priest that i had masturbated. lots of times i would cry after masturbating and was worried about going to hell, because i wasn’t stopping. i couldn’t figure out how to abstain from this habit (that quite frankly i didn’t even indulge in very much). lots of tears and fear associated with something that is supposed to feel good.

i can’t remember if i eventually resolved that i wouldn’t stop even tho it was a sin, or if i struggled with this up until i stopped believing in general.

it honestly started to go downhill the most once covid hit. (i was about 14) school closed, and so my mother decided that her kids (all six of us) would be homeschooled from now on. the homeschooling was the second step. she decided it would be best for our family to be catholic homeschooled. all of our books were Seton Homeschooling. any catholic homeschooler has probably heard of this program, even if they never used it. this program taught me a hella lot more about the faith. and me being autistic, this definitely became a hyperfixation. i learned a lot tbh. i probably know more about catholicism than the average practicing catholic.

knowing a lot about the faith caused me to find lots of weird “plot holes” and lots of contradictions. my faith was beginning to waiver, but i was learning everything i could about the faith, trying to answer my questions. honestly, i was starting to lose my grip on the faith.

covid being covid, this was the time i started to discover my sexuality. asexuality came first. it was a struggle to come to terms with, but i found out that there were gay people who were still catholic and i found temporary comfort in that community. i determined that my asexuality was actually a blessing from god. (he gave it to me because if i wasn’t asexual, i probably would have had sex before marriage because i love so fiercely and fully. so he gave asexuality to me so i could prevent myself from the sin of premarital sex. looking back, i think that’s a load of bullshit considering i’m actually demisexual lmao)

but then i had a ✨bi awakening✨which coincidentally took place in a church. a very pretty girl passed me in church and i forgot how to breathe lol. anyways, i left that church knowing something new about me. by the end of the week, i was thinking of myself as bi. i actually started dating this girl a few months later. funny enough, i felt like god had blessed our relationship and didn’t condemn it, simply because he allowed me to meet a girl named MARY in his CHURCH. so u felt like our relationship wasn’t a sin. she was catholic as well. we were quite the pair.

at this point, i was grasping at threads trying to find a reason to still be catholic. the next big incident snapped the thread. my best freind (catholic) told me that my relationship with mary was a sin and she couldn’t support it. i hung up with her lol. she called back and i said i’d only stay on the phone if she wasn’t mean. she proceeded to pull out a script she wrote to tell me how this was a sin and the guilty feelings i was having was because deep down i knew it was a sin. (it was just internalized homophobia). i hung up again. she texted me a long script and said i was going to hell. i blocked her.

here’s the part where the issue unfolds. she told her mom the situation, and her mom called my mom. she outed me to my mother. that night, not only did i lose my best friend and my girlfriend, but also any sense of comfort i felt in my house for about three years. (don’t worry for my safety. mother took away lots of my privileges such as internet, friends coming over, me being able to text most of my friends, going to my friend’s places, sleepovers, etc. but it was never unsafe for me) but that incident was probably the final drop that made the bucket overflow. i stopped believing in god sometime after that.

my loss of faith and discovery of sexuality are tied together and i cannot separate those journeys. however, i do believe that even without a sexuality discovery, i would have realized i didn’t believe in catholicism any more.

knowing as much as i did about catholicism, combined with my firm-proof-needing autism, and my sexuality discovery, all led me to lose the faith. after leaving it, i began to despise it, while also feeling guilty. it took many years to become okay with no longer being catholic.

though i would also like to note that even the catholic institution is quite corrupt and i hate organized church, i don’t hate people for being catholic. it makes me wary at first, but catholicism and god are not the issues. i don’t hate on people for being catholic or believing, nor do i want to belittle their faith. however, i feel like the catholic community is corrupt.

i don’t want to encourage you in either direction. do what’s best for you and what would help you be the best person and most happy in your life. i encourage you to question things and be curious about the faith. it might make your faith stronger, and you will be happy you did it, or you will realize this isn’t something you want to spend time on anymore. it’s up to you. and it may take YEARS to figure out. be kind to yourself and to others, and i guarantee it will be okay. no matter what you discover, you’ll have a community waiting for you.

as an end note, i’d like to add that you can ask any follow up questions you please. i’m willing to answer anything. if you require clarification on anything, just shoot an ask. i am aware that i wrote this while very sick with strep and honestly some of this might not make sense.