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theangrygnomeempress · 7 months ago

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A Baldur's Gate 3 Rant

tldr: woman is angry at a game and needed to scream and vent into the void. And this is cheaper than therapy.

TW: it's BG3, spoilers, and the game includes themes of abuse in all and every form. This post will be addressing some of those issues. I'm sorry if these matters are displeasing for you. Please bare this in mind going forward, especially with Astarion's part of the rant. I apologize in advance for any harmful emotions I bring up. I pray you are able to heal and continue to grow on your journey.

First off, I am not a gamer. I grew out of gaming back around 2020 since it no longer served as good or healthy escapism.

Most of the games I did play was stuff like Undertale, Skull girls, MK, Smash, Fnaf, and Overwatch. I have more titles under my gaming belt but these are just to name a few.

I am also not a DnD or Fantasy fan. I'm team sci-fi all the way. I just think magic is a cop out and used in lazy writing. Plus I can't play a game where the rules are basically whatever the dungeon master calls it. I need games with decent structure. Plus if I'm able to lift like 250, rolling a 3 shouldn't matter. It's like the will of the dice over rule your action and your stats don't matter.

So how the hell did I even get involved with this game? Youtube! The damn algorithm!

Every. Single. Recommend. Video. Short. Everything!

It was always the damn vampire. Only the vampire. I was almost convinced the game was just about him.

So, because I am a Fnaf fan that should tell you all that you need about my fascination and hyperfixation with gaming lore.

I blame MattPat!

So, I take a look into the game.

Immediately I'm hit with the Spider-Man vs BG3 drama. The absurd racism from some of the fans. The awful takes made about the game that was whole unjustified. And the very very concerning fixation on Astarion. This was all in January 2024.

Months later, the game is still popular. However I am beyond annoyed because the game sucks.

If you're a fan, that's fine. Honestly, it's the fans who drew me into the whole thing. You're a very talented lot who saw the wasted potential the game made. I'm pretty much became a fan of the Fandom. Until all the racism.

That being said, I'm going to be ripping into this game. I never played the game. I'm going off of clips, video essays, and posts that I've seen. I have also had to read some Fandom wiki to make sure I understood some story beats.

Lets get ready to rant!

First the game.

Is there a game? Seriously? Because if you're like me, a asexual who didn't want to romance anyone, what is there to do? I was expecting Diablo and I got some Otome game. Not to say that dating Sims can't be fun, but this feels so much like a dating sim. Almost everything relies on the relationships you make in the game. I just wanted to hack and slash, not.... kiss and miss?

I'm not clever, sue me.

And yes, I never played so how would I know? Almost all the posts I see about the game is about the companions. To me, it's like that's the only memorable parts. A good game should have memorable characters and game play. My example is undertale. It's a wonderful mix of memorable moments with the characters and great fights.

Also you can go on a date with the best boy of the game!

So if the focus of the game is made on the company of your party, how are they?

Bad. Their all bad.

Ok, that was a lie. The women are great, the men suck.

So let me begin with the most romanced character Shadow heart.

And it really shouldn't be a surprise why out of the 6 she's the most romanced. She actually has a story and while yes, all your choices impact the characters, she's the most believable character who would independently choose her path. Be it with Shar or Selune.

Plus she's the easiest to make a life with after the battle. Laezel needs to go to war. Karlach needs to go back to hell. Maybe you can make a life with one of the guys but why would you want to?

While everyone thinks Astarion was the writing room's favorite, it was actually Shadow heart. She has a clear cohesive story that doesn't feel cheap on either ending you get with her because it feels like despite your influence, her actions are hers. And I think it amounts to how the writers wrote her taking accountability of her actions in the clips I've seen. No complaints with this one. Sure, she's the embodiment "it's not a phase Mom!". But that's her charm and part of the reason why I like seeing her growth. 10/10 for me for the independence vibes into her own changes.

Now, Laezel was the second most romanced character and the second character with the best writing.

Another character with clear writing, clear motives, and a decent story.

She's also my personal favorite. Like, if I was isekaied into the game, we're besties. She'd probably hate me, but she would me my best friend.

Her story is ok, even if it's simple. It works.

I don't see much of how other's like her as a girlfriend. And I wouldn't know what her romance is like since I'm not playing the game. But she's a little emotional distant who warms up to you over time is the vibe I get. Which is much better than the vibes I get for Karlach.

I'd give her a 8/10 as a character and companion. Well crafted, but she leaves me wanting more.

Karlach is a 5.

Third romanced for a reason. Her crap story is what dooms her from the start.

She's a victim of the war and possibly a child soldier who's doomed to burn and die. Kinda hard to put your heart into someone who may not live to see if you can build a life together. Her death is certain and it's incredibly hard to see that for a woman so sweet.

All other companions get to be free but her. That sucks! She's pretty much in a doomed timeline. I feel awful for her as there's really no hope and a slim chance for getting better.

It's hard to romance someone with a constant bounty on her head.

Still would pick her over any of the guys any day. She's immature sure, but she's sweet. And if not a soldier, I could see her being that P.E. teacher everyone loves.

I could she her flourishing and thriving if she didn't have to deal with so much crap.

Her personality is a 8, smile is a 10, but she's a 5 because you will need to be constantly fighting to keep her safe. And even then, it feels like you can't.

She has the saddest story because unlike Astarion, she can't be free. There is no cannon event for her to have a proper mechanical heart like Tony Stark. So even if you some how free her from her devil, she's forever tied to hell. That's sad.

Now Wyll is a 4.

He's beautiful but he's morally corrupt. Which is why I couldn't nor could ever imagine romancing him.

Now, this poor man was dragged through the mud for no other reason than being a black man. I see this crap so much with fantasy/magic Fandoms. It's sad that in 2024 we can't have a black man in a video game. There's no justification to whitewash. Most of the critics I've seen of him has more to do with the critic than the actual problems with the character.

If you can't say what about the character gives you the ick, I'm questioning you.

Exactly what rubbed you the wrong way about him? And why can't you say it? There are valid reasons not to like a character. Even if it's just that you never connected with the character, that's OK too. But DnD does have a history with racism so it's sad to say that I shouldn't be surprised.

Wyll is a sweetheart. I love him to death. His romance is a breath of fresh air. I watched a compilation of his romance and I loved it. If he did that to me, I'd swoon. It was great to have someone who you could romance without sex. He is a true prince charming and easy to fall in love with.

However, I was upset when I found out he was a human turned devil and not a teifling. Again, I knew nothing about DnD when I was starting looking into this game. And nothing on his back story. I was smitten by his pretty face ok?

And once I looked into his back story, the image of the prince charming cracked. Instead, I'm left with a man child who wants to play hero.

Let me explain.

It's known that he was facing a evil cult and then panicked. He was a scared 17 year old, raised by the ideals of a lawfully good and just man. I could forgive him for making a deal with Mizora if he wasn't a literal duke's son.

Same situation but if Wyll was a commoner, or even as high class as a nobleman/ aristocrat's son, 100% understandable. He needs to save his people. It was the best he could do at the time.

But he's not a simple man. He is a duke's son. A person who would have had the means of military power. If not himself, he could have gone to a royal advisor and he could have lead a army.

This storyline is about as believable as BatMan. You know you messed up when Batman is more realistic than your character.

Ok, so let's go back to the start of his story. He was a scared kid and in his foolishness, made a deal to save his people. Noble. Good.

But then he served Mizora for 8 or so years. And for what? Powers that he doesn't use? He's the blade of frontiers. Man is a fighter, not a warlock.

And how many other innocent people has he killed because of Mizora? Someone made a really good point about his interaction with Karlach. You and Wyll see her burning, on the attack, and told she's evil not only by Mizora but from the knights.

You have no reason to really trust Karlach on her words alone. It's only through the tadpole that you are able to see her as the victim she is.

How many people has Wyll killed that were like Karlach? How much blood has he spilled thanks to his pact?

It's hard to like Wyll after noticing the hypocrisy. So much so that I can understand why people find him distasteful. (If only he was actually criticized for his actions)

He's not a good guy. He's lawful neutral. He's only good at playing the good guy. I say this as he really only cares about the glory of being a hero and nothing more. I don't blame his dad for disowning him. His dad fought and earned the right to be a Duke. Duke Ravengaurd was a man for the people, a true spirt of a guardian angel. Wyll looked up at him and sadly only saw the praise. I say this as his heart desires not the good of the people, but adventure and the tales of glory to boast about. All his interactions is about him gloating. If he's not gloating, he's playing the moral high ground.

Also, for a character that's so moral that quip to Astarion about the rat diet is out of line.

There's so many things you can make fun if Astarion for, why did you need to make fun of his abuse like that?

To me, Wyll is fools gold. Looks to be of great worth but is nothing more than a shimmering fake.

Because he didn't have to make the pact with Mizora. He chose to. He wasn't in a life or death situation. He didn't have to face the cultists with her alone. Throughout the game, Wyll is highly regarded in his city. You'll see this if he stays human. I find it very hard to believe he couldn't rally up some men to stage a coup, and kill off the cultists that way.

If that was his story, his dad could disown him for being rash, Wyll proves his worth being the blade of frontiers, and everything could still work the same.

Mizora ruins his story. Her addition doesn't feel genuine with the way Wyll is currently written.

Now how to fix that? Make Wyll power hungry. Have him be honest later in the game that he was blinded by the songs and praise such a deal could make. It would make it so much more satisfying for his story.

Unfortunately you are stuck with two characters that don't quite fit together that makes a emotional whiplash of a character.

Plus romance wise because someone mentioned this on reddit, Wyll will cry about being a devil but loves you for seeing more than his horns. But he cannot be seen with you if you become a squid man. That hurts.

Again, the good boy is not being a very good boy. His actions and words don't line up and I kinda hate him for it.

He's a 2 but his smile and charms makes those little red flags look green so he gets a 4.

Gale is a 2!

He may be handsome but, that literally cannot save him from my issues with him.

He is Neutral Good but left to his own devices would become Lawful Evil.

If Tav wasn't there, he'll gladly continue his toxic relationship with Mystra. He'd most definitely become a "god". And who knows what that would entail for a man with a dangerous ego.

But when Tav is there, to love him for who he is, to help him realize Mystra is awful and he can do so much better, he will still devote himself to a woman who will kill him.

Now Gale is a well written story of a male Harley Quinn. Someone so blinded by their love, they cannot see the torment.

I would also like to point out that she did indeed groom Gale. Anyone regardless of race, age, or gender can be groomed.

So whether they met when Gale was a teen or a young man, she groomed him.

Its scary how accurate they wrote someone who's been groomed. The way Gale justified her gaslighting and abuse is a very real response to how victims can't see there abusers as abusers.

But who is Gale if Mystra wasn't around him? He's still be a man who's love for magic causes him to become a wizard and his ambitious spirit is what makes him toxic. Because he needs to be the best. He cannot be humble. He does good things sure, but he can treat the one's closest to him like trash.

This man needs therapy and a class change.

I think this man's ego and self esteem relies too much on Mysta. My man is depressed and needs a hug.

He gets a 2 because while he's truly a 9, Tav cannot save him from his own destruction. And shame on Tara. She's his best friend but I don't see her trying to dissuade Gale from being with Mystra. And even if Gale heals, Tav will always be number 2. It's painful to be someone's rock only to be tossed aside.

It's a difficult romance that leaves you wondering, do you love me too?

Sorry, wrong photo.

GIVE IT UP FOR EVERYONE'S FAVORITE

✨️✨️⚜️ A S T A R I O N ⚜️✨️✨️

So....

I have very very mixed feelings about this character.

Firstly, Astarion is what you make of him.

You play a huge part in his discussions.

Like I know he's smoothed brain but still.

There is no Astarion. There is you.

You control his narrative.

That can be said of all the companions but it feels so much more with our dearest star.

There are two ways to play his character.

You fix him. Make it all better. Your love cures him. And he is grateful. He... is completely codependent.

Or, you can make him worse. Kill 7000 souls, doom them all, and prove him right. That he needed this to be safe all along.

I feel emotionally manipulated by the game devs on this character. Neither of these endings are healthy for him. The best ending is really being his friend and giving support. To show him people can be loving and care wholesome for another.

I feel emotionally manipulated because I don't believe his character nor the themes of abuse where properly used in the game or by the marketing team.

Looking at that onlyfans video Larian!

Similar to Angel dust from hazbin hotel, he's over sexulized. However, in Hazbin Hotel the characters fight against the exploitation of Angel where as it seems only Tav cares to treat Astarion other than a piece of meat.

Even then, with a character who LITERALLY GETS UPSET WITH HIMSELF if Tav wants to have sex with other people, there is no way to romance him without sex.

Like Wyll, there should be a path to allow the player to have a deep romance with him without sex.

It really breaks my heart seeing people over sexulize him or even ship him with Cazador.

This man has been through enough. He was pimped out by his master. Cazador sex trafficked Astarion. That's not a theory! That's a fact!

This man has been traumatized. He's fighting for his life out here and all he can do is think about ascending to finally be safe. To never have to worry. Something a lot of victims, me too, have wanted.

It's cathartic watching him kill Cazador. Many of our own Cazadors are still walking out there when they should be in jail.

This is the part of Astarion that Cazador made.

Cazador made him a scared wounded man who's reduced to his sexuality.

But he's so much more than that.

Prior to Cazador, he was a judge. So we at least know he was smart, wise, and/or trusted enough to be awared such a position. Astarion's also dead so that smooth brain may have more to do with the decomposition or trauma. Trauma changes your brain chemistry so much so we're able to map it on brain scans.

But one thing that people overlook is that he's always been lawful evil.

He was feeding guilty defendents to the Szarr family. This was supposedly a secret between him and the family from what I've read about the early game access. But either way, you don't get chummy with a vampire if not for nefarious reasons.

There's no explanation as to why this occurred. No potential political gain or even a mention of somehow of a relationship with Astarion and the Szarr family. Or even between Cazador and Astarion.

It's kinda obvious that Cazador planned on the attack. We're missing a lot of details as to why Cazador was targeting him. Because what vampire lord is just going to be conveniently walking past a dying man in the middle of nowhere?

Some one here on tumblr said it best. "He's an abuser who found a worse abuser."

He abused his power as a judge. Anyone he sent to Cazador could have been part of the 7000 souls used in the ritual. Anyone he sent faced the same abuse he faced later on the line.

Now, when we are wronged, we want revenge. And if you believe in karma. This very well could have been his karma for sending potential victims to Cazador that he would later use as sex traffic spawn. It's messed up. This is a very messed up back story.

But what truly bothers me is his lack of agency.

If Tav isn't guiding him one way or another, he kinda has to leave your party. There is no way around it. You either have to fix him and make him all better or turn him into an abusive husband. Both of these are wrong.

I have a problem with the "I can fix him", "beauty and the beast", "he's just misunderstood", or "bad boy with a heart of gold" tropes seen countless times in media. YOU CANNOT FIX SOMEONE. THEY ARE A PERSON! NOT A MACHINE!

Astarion needs a loving caring friend first and a lover later. I find the the above tropes vile and concerning because

A. It's always gendered. The female love intrest is held responsible and to the extent of responsibility a parent has over a child for the emotional well being of their male love interest.

B. It's dehumanizing to the male love interest as it perpetuates the idea that only a good woman can fix him. That he needs to be codependent in order to get better. To be better. To heal.

C. While this can be done regardless of the gender of "The broken" and "The Mechanic", to know or find out you're just a project to someone hurts. It breaks the love and trust between them as the mechanic never loved them in the first place. You do not try to make your partner a better person, you try to support them and give your advice. Trusting partners will consider each other's words. Controlling partners will insist they know what's best for the both of them.

Astarion is not going to change any time soon.

He will never be the sweet kind boy you want him to be. He's honest about this and you should listen.

He's a lovable ass and that's all he really cares to be.

Let him be. Let him grow in his own time. If he even does. I do see hope but again, this guy has been trying to win your favor. Who's to say he's above playing hero?

That being said, giving him what he wants kills him again. He is no longer the man you know.

When he ascends, as his master and his master before, it will only continue the cycle of abuse.

He says it so clearly when you break up with him. That he'll use up your love until you are nothing.

Nothing.

No one who loves someone, even in a twisted sense would want them to turn into nothing.

That being said, I feel bad for the Acended Astarion fans but this is a great example of what it's like to be in a abusive relationship. You're love bombed one minute and scared the next. You're now the spawn made to be consumed. And I agree 100% that the whole turning sequence falls in line with a vampire bride. That is your husband. And I am so sorry.

Everyone called out the kisses for being disturbing. They are. And they have every right to be. You fell in love with the monster you made. And you made him. He used your eyes to carve Cazador. He couldn't do it without you.

So, does this mean it's your fault? Are you to be punished for loving someone dearly?

See, this is my most horrific problem with this romance because you are held responsible for Astarion's well being. The blame is put on Tav. Not Astarion!

He tricked you, seduced you, said everything he could to gain your trust. And this is how your repaid? By being in a toxic relationship?

And the Devs answer to the back lash? Honestly, I can't find anything. Alot of people were upset. And to be fair, for months people role-playing as a evil but endearing to each other couple. Those kisses ruined the Mortica Gomez vibe and replaced it with domestic violence.

THAT 🐶 IS SMILING SLAPPING YOUR FACE!

SMUG MUG!

He likes the fear and control he has over you. And he was always like this. You just didn't catch on.

He repeats Cazadors rules.

youtube

He'll tell you till you drop, you're his equal.

But you are his property.

You were always meant to be a tool for Astarion.

Either to heal him or to be used by him.

Listen, I wasn't above his charm. When I first saw him I honestly was put off because he remined me of Prince charming from Shrek. But that didn't quite felt like the right character until I saw the comparison to Preminger. And that explains why when I first saw him, he scared me. Prince charming and Preminger have always scared me because they both kinda give a rapist vibe.

And to be quite honest, Astarion did kinda assult Sebastion. He got that poor man so drunk, kissed his with questionable consent, and then killed him through Cazador.

Because you can mold Astarion into the mold you want, it's easy to mold him into a redeemable character.

I know when I see him sad, my first thought is to comfort him because of all his trauma.

But he traumatized others too.

Hell, I tried to watch his romance comp as I've done with Wyll and I barely got past the bite scene. Just to see what all the hoopla was about.

It gave me flashbacks and I cried seeing it. Just as I did with the AA kisses in the kiss update.

He's a very violent man. He is scary. His love is twisted at best, a play at worst.

He wants you because he wants to use you.

And you, the one who loves him. The desperate need to take care of him, to protect him. You are not a bad person for wanting more for a person so hurt. You are a kind caring soul. And you will be hurt if you date an Astarion.

I'm no better, I was a loki fan girl once. I know what it's like to love like Harly Quinn and have it end up getting me hurt.

-🚩🚩🚩🚩♾️/10

Thank you for making it to the end of my rant.

I didn't feel like anyone else felt the way I did about these characters.

Especially Astarion and Wyll.

For a game so companion focused, they really made all the men toxic to all hell.

I'm sorry if I made anyone upset but Astarion really does scare me. I cannot find the appeal.

While I can sympathize with his character, some of his actions don't sit right with me.

I just wanted to say Neil did a great job as a actor.

Astarion made me every emotion under the sun.

That's a lot of range in one character.

And I'm really curious to see if anyone else felt this way too. I know I'm not the only one to feel like Wyll's fake and charming. But does Astarion scare anyone else too?

#bg3 astarion #bg3 #rant post #tw rant #vent post #im sorry #Youtube

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charlottemadison42 · 2 years ago

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Love your work. Question: How are you?

Hi! Thank you! Good, actually!

Which is sort of my problem, but -- well, here's the story.

In 2019, before the pandemic was even a thing, I found myself grinding to a halt in every area of my life. No motivation, no way forward, dread of failure at my jobs that translated into literally hiding in bed and failing just as hard as I feared. The news overwhelmed me when I used to be engaged. The work projects I cared most about got shelved and dusty. I stopped initiating anything at all. Even, like, showers and meals for myself.

The pandemic hit, and honestly, things didn't change for me that much. I was already hiding from the world and my responsibilities and feeling awful, and in a way it made everything else outside match up with my insides. I felt guilty for occasionally thinking that. It was a bad time for the world, and a bad time for me.

Thank somebody I hyperfixated on Good Omens. And eventually found fanfic and discord and a community that understood.

I found a refuge in writing two long novels, a novella or two, and a whole bunch of short stories (all of which I still plan to finish).

And because I found some really safe anonymous friendship through this fandom community, I also learned some things about my own mental health -- especially about autism, ADHD, and depression -- things that resonated when friends said them, in a way they never did when I heard about them on the news. In 2022, I felt ready to start trying to get help.

And I got some! It broke the bank, but I saw a psychiatrist just enough times to get a non-stimulant adhd med that gave me back my ability to focus on what I wanted to. (Is it a placebo? I don't know and I don't care; the placebo effect is one of the most powerful effects in medicine, and a reliable way to activate it is fucking fine with me.)

So, honestly, compared to a year ago?

I'm good. I'm really fucking good. I feel more like me again. I'm keeping promises and taking on hard things again. I'm confronting the stuff I shelved and forcing myself to re-engage my own life, especially my work life. I'm even reading the news (in manageable doses).

Resuming an actual job and a life has left me less time for my fandom than I used to have. I only get to write around the edges now, instead of all day. And I'm prioritizing my fandom friendships a little more than my writing, to be honest, because if I only have time for one of those, it's the friends who saw me through a couple of very dark years. But I am still writing. In fact I'm doing that tonight.

The thing I mostly wanted to say to your ask is -- thank you for asking. I'm actually doing a lot better than I was. Sometimes someone goes quiet on the internet, and you might worry that means that things are worse for them, or something bad happened. But sometimes it can also mean something good happened. Me, I made some friends, got some help, and got huge chunks of my life back, chunks I feared were washing out to sea. That means I have to wrangle these icebergs, unfortunately -- but they're my responsibility, and they always were, and I feel like I almost have enough rope now.

Thanks to all of you here for your friendship (and your fandom and your stories and characters and art) that helped me through the valley of dark fuckin' shadows. Know that they are still important to me every single day, even if I'm not a publishing-a-chapter-a-week person anymore. I'm sorry I'm not supplying you with as much story food. But in my case, it's actually a really, really good sign.

#love you #that means you

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helioleti · 2 years ago

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An analysis on Lumax & Melvin’s relationships in comparison

The difference between the Lumax breakup and the Melvin breakup was that when Max broke up with Lucas, she was grieving. She was pushing people away. Not just Lucas, but all her friends. There is a whole plotline in s4 revolving around Max’s coping mechanism to isolate herself, and how it was an understandable mistake on her part to do so, and a source of guilt for Lucas that he wasn’t there for her even if there was little he could’ve actually done.

When El dumped Mike, it was Mike’s fault. No matter how much you twist it, no matter how much Hopper meddled, Mike chose to lie to El instead of telling her about Hopper. Not to mention El needed time away from Mike. She needed to spend time with people who weren’t her first friend, first boyfriend, first ever person she trusted after coming out of the lab.

Similarly, Mike needed to recognize he was being neglectful of his friends and interests outside of El (leading up to his fight with Will). Not to mention he never really apologized to El, he only tried to slap a bandaid on the situation by saying “Yeah haha guess blank (love) made me go silly & crazy,” instead of saying something meaningful like Lucas did.

Here’s Mike’s whole apology speech for reference:

“I’ve been meaning to tell you something. It’s just, being broken up, it’s been hard. And… I like that you and Max are friends now. It’s just, I was jealous at first. And— and angry. And that’s why I said all that stupid stuff. And it’s like I wanted you all to myself. And now I realize how unfair that is. And selfish. And, like… I’m sorry. I just […], I’ve never felt like this […] with anyone before… and… (sighs) You know, they do say it makes you crazy.”

He essentially says “I was being shitty and acted out because I love you so much” which is,, Kind of manipulative, actually. I highly doubt he was aware of this. But it’s clear he missed the point. He doesn’t truly understand why the breakup was hard for him.

It wasn’t like he missed El so much and realized his mistakes. (I mean, he was quicker to ride all across town in the rain to apologize to Will than to give El a phone call to talk it out. Not to mention he shifts the blame to Hopper, and then to Max, saying she’s “corrupting her”). But rather, he didn’t know who he was outside of the relationship anymore. He’d abandoned his interests and his friends, essentially everything else that defined him. It’s almost as if he’s built his entire self worth and personality on having a girlfriend.

Call it a trauma response to hyperfixate on El, or his way of dealing with internalized Homophobia (if we look at it through Byler theory), but the way Mike behaves after getting together with El is a complete contrast to how Lucas does. Lucas openly makes fun of Mike’s fixation on El, showing how he recognizes that it’s ridiculous. He’s still a friend to the party outside of Max, (although you can argue he’s sidelined Will and Dustin too, just not to the extent Mike has).

Lumax’s Relationship problems vs Melvin’s

I’ve seen people argue that Max “dumping Lucas 5 times” is a red flag, but I feel like this just proves you haven’t understood Max’s character. Or Lucas’s. While I would like to know how serious these breakups actually were (and I doubt they were actual breakups more than just silly fights which Lucas could resolve by following his dad’s advice), I can imagine Max’s trauma holds her back from truly trusting that romantic relationships can go well. She probably overestimates little flaws in a partner and views them as a red flag, desperate to protect herself from the type of relationship her mom and stepdad lead.

And the Lucas we see in s4 has matured out of the one he was in previous seasons too, showing he’s learned more about himself by trying out new things in High School. And showing how he’s come to understand what his relationship with Max truly means to him. Despite not being at fault for Max pulling away, he realized what it means to love someone and be there for them when they need it most. He sees Max and all her trauma, and he’s willing to be with her through all of it. He sees her.

Unlike Mike, who well into s4 is still rigged with confusion and, again, tries to blame other people for his relationship problems with El. (“You can’t let these mouth breathers ruin us”). Again, in his monologue in the final episode, he hastily explains his inability to say “I love you” by saying he’s just (checks notes) afraid of… losing her. Afraid of her not needing him anymore, because her needing him in that first week when she was out of the lab was what they built their relationship on.

And now this dynamic has shifted, and in the time with her away in Cali he rediscovered himself too, reconnected with his interests, realizing he doesn’t need their relationship anymore to define who he is either. Not to mention he still calls El his “Superhero,” essentially undermining her desire to just be a person, aside from her powers. He doesn’t see her.

I don’t know the source, but I heard our King Caleb McLaughlin once said something along the lines of:

“I like Lucas and Max’s relationship. It’s not like Mike and El’s, it’s real.”

And I think that’s pretty well said.

#sorry for the long post i think i got carried away #anti m*leven #byler #tagging you guys bc you always appreciate analysis

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p3achs0daa · 3 years ago

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and now i see daylight. | travis hackett x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: After surviving until dawn six years ago, you’d never imagine having to survive another monstrous event… until now. You’re heading to Hackett’s Quarry this summer to be a counselor with two of your newest friends, only you don’t make it right away to camp like you thought you would.

TW: canon typical violence??

TAGS: multi-chapter fic :), slight slow burn???, strangers to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, age difference, older man/ younger woman, slight references to until dawn, slight mention of until dawn characters

A/N: hi all!! i've been hyperfixating over the quarry recently and travis lately so!!! i thought this would be a fun write !! it's been a while since i've gotten back into writing and publishing my fics, but i hope you all enjoy !! (also posted on my ao3 account :D)

CHAPTER I CHAPTER II

PROLOGUE (LINK TO AO3)

08:00 | JUNE 24 — YOUR APARTMENT (context: you’re reminiscing about the past few years as you pack for Hackett’s Quarry)

It has been about six years since you’ve gotten those claw marks on your face.

Six years since you’ve endured the incident at Blackwood Mountain.

Six years since you’ve survived until dawn.

After the incident, everyone went their separate ways. You still kept in touch with all of them, though. Even Josh. Kinda hard not to keep in contact with them when everyone is in a group chat lol

You couldn’t find it in yourself to be angry at Josh. He was never the same after the loss of his sisters. Yes, the prank he pulled was hella messed up, but… as twisted as it was, you understood his reasonings. He was still your friend, and… it was good to know that the rescue team was able to find him in the end.

Currently, you’ve moved to New York to do your studies. Two years have passed since you’ve earned your bachelors.

Originally, you were nervous about the aspect of attending college states away from home. Mainly at the idea of meeting new people. The scars across your face didn’t help to ease that anxiety.

You received a great deal of stares from people, but you grew used to it. Because of your scars, people often left you alone. It didn’t matter much to you because that made it a whole lot easier to focus on your studies.

It wasn’t until your last year did you meet Laura and Max.

If you were to describe Laura, you’d say she’s studious, determined, and independent. It amazed you that she put 100% effort in everything, sometimes going beyond that. She reminded you a bit of Emily; there’s more to her than just her wit and brains. Max, on the other hand, lacks ambition at times and can be a little too reliant on his girlfriend. But… his friendly nature and humor makes up for it..

Both of them became good friends with you, and honestly, you were glad for the company. Although you had an appreciation for spending time alone, you were still susceptible to feelings of loneliness. Especially since all your friends were back home. Sure there were phone calls and video calls, but… it just… didn’t feel the same as being there with them in person.

Despite being older than the two by approximately three years, the three of you kept in touch after your graduation. Considering that you all lived in the same state, it was easy to meet up often.

Recently, Laura suggested the idea of volunteering at a camp for summer in Upstate New York, a place with more rural landscapes. She mentioned it would be a good add on for everyone’s resumes and that the three of you should sign up together.

At first, you were hesitant to accept the idea.

Reason number one: the last time you spent time in a rural place, you almost died.

Reason number two: every summer, you’d be booking a plane ride home to visit your friends and family.

However, after texting the group, they all encouraged you to take the opportunity. It wasn’t like you were never going to see them again.

Little did you know, this summer was going to be the next biggest ride of your life.

#the quarry #the quarry fic #travis hackett x reader #travis hackett #slight slow burn???#slow burn #strangers to lovers #angst #hurt/comfort #age difference #older man/younger woman #slight references to until dawn #slight mention of until dawn characters

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maelstrom-of-emotions · 2 months ago

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@xiaokuer-schmetterling, thank you for asking! Ooh, this one was when I was on a bestseller (Bryce x Greg) high, I was speedrunning ideas until the flame started to flicker and another hyperfixation light it up, I honestly forgot about it. Named after Colors by Halsey, which I was listening to the entire time of writing this.

Greg's always been a bit of a fascinating character to me. I like to hate on him as much as the next person, but I do think it's very intriguing that he's made of the worst parts of adolescence. And like to break open those parts and figure out how he'd work. I think the Heffley boys all are worth studying, along with their dynamic, which isn't explored enough to my liking.

But, that's a story for another w.i.p, this one is when I wanted to work on the dynamic between Bryce and Greg. I wanted to give it that softer touch with undertones. I feel like explaining it makes it worse, so, I'll just share a snippet.

⁕⁕⁕

Greg’s favorite color has always been blue.

Well, perhaps not always. There was a time when green tried to wrestle its way into his heart, creeping in like vines through the cracks of his resolve. But green comes with memories he’d rather not revisit—the damp weight of moss on stone, clings like ivy, digging into brick walls and splitting them apart, the sickly glow of jealousy, the cloying smell of summer grass clinging to sweat-soaked skin. Of fields that stretched on forever and yet always led back to places he didn’t want to be. Green is too full of things that linger. Green is too much like the past—wild, unruly, and always threatening to overwhelm. Blue, though, is different. Blue is everything and nothing at once.

Blue is a good favorite color. No, it’s better than good—it’s perfect. It bends to fit the shape of every emotion, like water filling the edges of an uneven glass. It’s the melancholy of rain-soaked evenings, the kind that seep into your bones and stay with you long after you’ve dried off. But it’s also the euphoria of a sky so bright it feels like it’s singing, the color of infinity. Blue is the color of endless horizons, of oceans that hold more secrets than answers. It’s the color of possibilities, of things that could have been but never were, of the spaces between questions we’re too afraid to ask. Blue is blueberry jam spread thick over toast on mornings where the world feels kind. It’s the improbable shimmer of blue roses, the kind that seems like it shouldn't exist but do anyway, defying nature itself. Blue is adaptable, vast, and infinite.

But that’s not why Greg likes Bryce Anderson’s eyes.

Bryce’s eyes are a deeper, sharper kind of blue—blue that cuts, blue that binds, blue that drowns. They’re the color of the ocean at twilight, just before it swallows the sun whole. They glint like shards of broken glass in a moonlit alley, dangerous and captivating all at once. When Bryce looks at him, Greg feels like he’s been dragged into some old, forgotten fable—the kind Rodrick used to whisper to him as a child, in the dead of night when shadows felt alive.

(Bryce’s eyes are blue, but not the kind of blue that soothes or reassures. They’re not the soft, steady blue of a twilight sky, nor the playful, shimmering blue of sunlit waves. No, Bryce’s eyes are another blue—sharp and consuming, like the edge of a blade that catches the light just so. They’re the blue of drowning, of being pulled under by something too powerful to resist, too relentless to escape.)

Bryce’s blue isn’t the gentle blue of summer skies or the wistful blue of sad days. It’s the blue of the fae—the kind that slips between the cracks of reality, that lures you in with promises too sweet to resist and then leaves you empty-handed, clutching only the echoes of what was never yours. Bryce’s blue is the monster in every warning tale, the thing you were told to run from but never truly understood until it was too late. They are the blue of mirrors turned inward, forcing Greg to confront parts of himself he’s spent years trying to bury.

Blue, Greg thinks, is the color of contradictions. It is infinite, yet it narrows to a pinpoint when Bryce looks at him. It is the color of freedom, and yet he feels more trapped than ever when he meets Bryce’s gaze. It is the color of dreams and despair, of things both borne of smoke and eternal.

And yet, Greg can’t look away. Because in that dangerous, otherworldly blue, there is something beautiful, something longing. He wonders if this is what it means to be human: to crave what you cannot understand, to reach for what you know will hurt you, to find beauty in the very thing that might destroy you. A warning embedded in a golden boy, the inevitability of consequence.

And still, Greg cannot look away. Blue has always been his favorite color, and maybe that’s why he’s doomed. Blue is endless, like the sea and the sky. And like the sea and the sky, it is merciless.

It is the space between what he wants and what he dares to take.

W.I.P Folder Game

Rules: Make a new post with the names of all the files/documents in your W.I.P folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Tag as many people as you have W.I.Ps. People can send you an ask with the titles(s) that most intrigue them, then post a little snippet/preview or tell them something about it.

Thank you @xiaokuer-schmetterling for tagging me! Honestly, this was a wake-up call because I have way too many W.I.Ps, each with their heartbeats caught in limbo, waiting for me to let them bleed onto the page. They probably won’t – but one can dream. (I really need to learn how to drive responsibly, I keep on hitting plot bunnies. Those fuckers multiply fast. Thank god for Ellipsus, because I genuinely don’t know how much of my fics I’d be able to write down fast.)

we’re all just stars that have people names

of happiness that blooms like opium poppies

i saw you as a flower

the train to nowhere

oh darling, even rome fell

lovelorn

look at this photograph

we used to be immortal, love

you may be a god, but you live off of my prayers

carve out the pieces of you, how much of me is left

call a monster by it’s name

apricot roses and dead bluebirds (technically posted already, but it is a W.I.P)

where ages grow wild and ancient

everything is blue

taped to the wall, breaking and all

where love lingers, death cannot hold

bury me gentle in a garden of thorns

angel of death, how do you defend?

I asked for a fairy tale, you gave me life

even amongst the gods, you are the cruelest

Don’t Touch The Walls, They’ll Break

of lovelorn days in a world gone pale

where the hero’s heart lies bleeding

where we drown in dusk and dreams

the parts of me in muted grey

whatever homes are made of

and he whispers, and the house whispers back

we’re fated to unravel, love

the ten percent rule

the 10% rule (same title, but different, I swear)

let me die loving, and so never die

Death, Interrupted

the star beneath skin

untitled reddit post

Crimson and Ash

I’m Dreaming of Tomorrow, When Tomorrow’s Not Coming

I’m yearning for a yesterday, when all I’m getting is tomorrow

bleeding between worlds

of hollow bones and ashen skies

I’ve dug two graves for us, my dear

shory and no sailors

serpents in eden’s embrace

a kingdom in waiting

they call us the dreamers, but we’re the ones that don’t sleep

dressed to disaster

a crouching, wounded fawn that knew no god

a forest fire beneath my feet, and no ashes to rise from

sunlight leaves a trail of smoke

a thousand foreign sorrows I cannot name

I was not the first thing I ever did taint

what good is petrichor, when your body rots beneath the dust?

spooky scary skeletons

the circus comes without warning

we should all just stab ceasar

i am borne of fairytales and glass planets

hey, is this a pizza place?

what is left of forever

we were almost enternal

our bones could hold the sky, you and i

stupidity and solitude are one in the same; they’re not

seven flowers of Mrs. Zabini

i had a sister of flesh and blood, but not of love

frame the halves and call them brothers

as ancient as grief

spiteful dumplings

greed and golden illusions

defend you to my last breath

taylor + streaming +siblings

a constellation of ruin

loveable

goldfinch

hide and spite

let me bleed, let me burn

capsize

they call you

a medal for me, one that I’ve created

flaws of the divine, oh to be divine

to love an eldritch love

a letter and a cow

cold

happiness is not known to cold hearts

fae chipmunks

isekai yandere

it curls and it burns, it’s written words

wattpad high

icarus, burn and cold

here be dragons

achilles, come down

fluffy’s not dead yet, right?

Ding, ding, ding, it’s saturday again

Blythe baxter

Flower ship soulmates

Matthews

Hey, timmy

Fuck, that's a lot. I don't think I even know that many people. So, I'm just going to type in the people I follow + my mutuals, I guess. No pressure tags, only do it if you feel comfortable <3333 (also, if anyone else would like to join, please feel free! Just tag me!)

@undercover-stories, @padfootastic, @whatisgrass, @silverbriseis, @awkward-toons, @illymation, @demigodseameg16, @chipmunkweirdo, @dreams-in-words, @yuricedes, @afeatherinthewind, @space-anon-writes, @awyeahitssam, @thunder-point, @monsieurclavier, @katisblue, @thesefallenembers, @bitkahuna, @rt0no.

I just realized I probably should have made sure all of these people actually write, but oh well, I'm too lazy to change it now. Forgive me. (Also, remember, anyone can join! And don't feel pressured to play if you don't wanna! <333)

#wip folder game #please send asks!#asks open #asks <3 #asks answered #sash's asks #dowak #greg heffley #bryce anderson #bryce x greg #bestseller #that's the ship name. don't come for me.#my wips #wips #reblog game #tagging game #tumblr ask game

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logically-asexual · 2 years ago

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im just so intrigued by the fact that i wasn’t able to understand a single movie or book i watched or read as a kid. i could never keep track of the story or the characters.

ramble got long putting it under a read more

i always felt like when you tap on the first episode of a show on netflix but for some reason it starts playing the first episode of their latest season and you’re super confused about everything because there’s three seasons of lore you’re missing.

i don’t remember the story of a single book we read in school. i remember short scenes here and there that surprised me or made me feel emotional for some reason but that’s it. i never knew the context. i never understood the whole story. i don’t know how i ever passed spanish or english class.

for a while we used to go to the library and they would read to us a chapter of a book each week and i could never pay attention. i just remember zoning out staring at my nails or the table or anything. we read the hobbit that way i think and i always felt like i had missed a class and very important info with it but no. i hadn’t.

silent reading time was also torture. i couldn’t read i also just stared at nothing for twenty minutes and it was excruciating.

and i also cant remember any movies i watched at the cinema. i remember when we got together to watch the hunger games (and i had allegedly read the book) and everyone was talking about what the movie adaptation did or didn’t include and i was so absolutely lost. no idea what anyone was talking about.

the only thing about my childhood i remember understanding and processing alright was tv shows. i perfectly remember nick sitcoms and cartoons. i think it has to do with the fact that i could watch those over and over again before a new season aired, so i got enough time and repetition to seal stuff in my memory.

i don’t know. i think that wasn’t normal probably. then one day some time after eight grade maybe i was just randomly granted the gift Understanding Media. well. mostly movies, i still struggled with reading in high school. i remember i never read things fall apart, but a children version of the book i had for some reason, and i passed somehow. i still don’t know what the book was about.

i remember my piano teacher saying when i was fourteen that i was at an age when i should read so much because teens are so emotional (in a good way) and full of wonder so romantic (as in romanticism, not romance) stories were great for letting all that bloom or whatever. but that only made me feel bad because i felt how time was slipping away from me and i was missing my chance at enjoying a big chunk of literature.

i don’t think i have adhd or some kind of disorder that could cause that level of inattentiveness but who knows. if i did then why can i suddenly understand movies and stuff? did my brain just develop too late in that aspect?

i usually attribute apparent adhd symptoms from my childhood to anxiety and burnout. because it’s way more likely since i’ve always been anxious and the executive dysfunction and lack of memory can easily be explained by anxiety too. but this thing about the movies and books remains unexplained and i don’t know if i will ever truly know what happened there. and also adhd seems to come with this “hyperfixations and obsessive consumption of media” thing that is exactly the opposite of my entire life experience. that’s the main reason i steer away from the term.

i am trying to actually read now. i know it’s an insane thing for a 22 year old to say but i don’t know when the last time i read something that wasn’t a textbook was before dracula daily. now that it’s over i’ve proved that my brain can keep track of a written story, at least when it is serialized and i have time to process its parts like with the kids tv shows.

i want to read more to get out of this hole. but i also want to know why the hell i am in this hole in the first place. i have almost nothing to look back on nostalgically like people who loved star wars as kids and made their own halloween costumes and had a toy collection and more. i just watched sitcoms and cartoons to laugh and escape from the world, not to understand any themes or messages. i feel like something was stolen from me and i’ll never get it back.

#anyway i signed up for the substack that will send you moby dick over the course of two years #i don’t think i’ll make it but one can dream right #vent

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hearts-hunger · 4 years ago

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querida || javier peña x reader

Read on AO3 | Masterlist

Summary: Javi wants to take you on a little roadtrip before the sun comes up, and you two might just have to make a habit of enjoying more mornings like this.

Pairings: Javier Peña x wife!Reader

Genre: fluff and smut, very soft giggly married lovemaking

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: smut & me not being a spanish speaker (please let me know if i’ve gotten anything wrong!)

A/N: Yeah, you guessed it, I’m caught hook, line, and sinker for Pedro Pascal and all his characters. I know for a fact that Javier Peña is fully incapable of sleeping with a woman and not catching feelings, and that goes double when he makes love to his wife. If you’re an older follower of mine sticking through my new hyperfixation, thank you! I hope y’all enjoy ♡

It had just started to rain, gently pattering against the windows whose curtains were closed against the sunrise that was still hours away. Javier hovered over you and kissed you with a persistent kind of gentleness, waking you slowly and easily in the darkness of your bedroom.

“Rise and shine, pretty lady,” he said softly, brushing your hair back from your face. You turned your face away from him as he tried to kiss you again, and he chuckled.

“Come on, mi amor,” he said gently. “I’m trying to be sweet to you.”

“Let me sleep, if you’re so sweet,” you mumbled, moving closer to him despite yourself, wanting his warmth. He pulled you close and kissed your neck, grazing his fingers over your shoulder.

“Do you have to leave for work already?” you asked. It seemed early to you, but you were too drowsy to look at the clock.

“Not yet, but I do have to be in early today,” he said. “And I probably won’t be back until late. So I thought it would be nice to see you before I left.”

You thought that was sweet, and you nuzzled against him and tried to be a little more awake and attentive. You kissed his jaw and put your arm over his waist.

“What do you think about taking a little drive?” he asked.

You pulled back from him and looked up at his face. “A drive? Now?”

He smiled. “Yeah. I know this great place we can go and watch the sun rise.”

You groaned a little at the thought of getting out of bed and hid your face against his chest.

“Oh, come on now,” he said with a laugh, pulling you close again. “It’ll be nice, I promise. I’ll drop you off before I head to work, and you can sleep in all day while I’m gone.”

You could tell this was something he wanted to do with you, and your time together had seemed so sparse and unhappy lately that you couldn’t say no. He had been so stressed and tired with work that most of the time you were together was either spent sleeping or bickering, and you’d missed your happy Javier. Getting up early from your nice warm bed was a small price to pay for how much you would both enjoy spending a few hours together before the sun came up.

“What do you think?” he asked.

You gave a dramatic sigh. “Oh, well, if you insist.”

He grinned and gave you a deeper kiss then, pulling the blankets off both of you. You dressed quickly in the early morning cool of the apartment, and Javi surprised you with a fresh pot of coffee he’d put on before he woke you up. Before long you were curled up in the passenger seat of the Jeep, holding your husband’s free hand as he drove out of the city and towards the mountains. The drizzle continued to fall, mixing with the sound of Javi’s quiet humming along with the Jim Croce greatest hits cassette he always kept playing in his car.

You talked through the whole drive, both of you catching the other up on work and life in general. You really hadn’t seen him very often in the past two weeks - Javi and Steve with both running themselves ragged trying to keep up with Escobar, and you and Connie had been busy volunteering. You were thankful for a friend who understood what you were going through, and you hoped Steve and Connie would get some time soon to just be with each other like you and Javi were now.

When you reached the spot Javi had decided on, a small clearing beneath the limbs of a few Andean oak trees that overlooked a beautiful expanse of mountains, the sky had started to turn the slightest shade of blue. He turned the car off and you sat in companionable silence for a moment, looking out on the natural beauty of the place that had been so hard for the both of you to live in.

“It’s crazy, isn’t it?” he said, his voice characteristically soft. “All that trouble going on every single day, and it looks like a paradise from up here.”

You reached your hand up to brush your fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes and let himself enjoy your touch, leaning closer and turning his head just enough to press a gentle kiss to your wrist.

“I miss you,” he said.

You touched the pad of your thumb to the crow’s feet that came from his laughter, that contagious, genuine sound that had come to be your very favorite in the world. “I miss you too.”

He leaned across the console and kissed you for a long time, every touch loving and tender and full of care. He grazed his fingers over your cheek, your temples, the place where your pulse beat in time with his. At some point you decided the small distance between you was too much; you awkwardly made your way to straddle his lap, both of you giggling like teenagers when you bumped your head on the roof and he struggled to get the seat to move back. Settled again, your bodies pressed against each other and you felt a spark with each touch that grew into a warm and comfortable desire, familiar with just how much you loved and wanted your husband.

When you broke apart after a while, he looked up at you and gave you an impossibly tender smile.

“Thank you for coming with me,” he said. “Next time, I’ll try to plan something a little more coordinated with your sleep schedule.”

You gave a soft laugh. “That’s ok, honey. I’m actually glad you dragged me out of bed before the crack of dawn to make out with me in a government car.”

“Oh, dragged you out of bed, huh?” he said with a laugh. “I must have imagined all that kissing and sweet-talking, then.”

“I know, it was such a chore,” you said in a pitying voice. You traced his features with a gentle touch, feeling the lines that life’s sorrows and joys had etched into his beloved face. “Poor Javier, having to kiss his wife to get her to wake up.”

You grinned as he pressed his mouth to yours again, proving that kissing you was not a chore to him in the least. He fumbled with the buttons on his plaid you were borrowing, just enough to let him kiss the top of your breasts.

“So, honey...” he said against your neck. “What’s the verdict on pre-dawn car sex?”

You laughed and felt his smile against your skin. “Wouldn’t that be a way to start off your work day?”

“A fun way,” he assured you. “A very nice way, considering all I’m doing for the good people of Colombia.”

You let him unbutton your shirt all the way down and weren’t really surprised when he didn’t take it off of you, preferring the way his big shirt hung loosely on your frame. You hadn’t bothered to wear a bra, mostly because you didn’t feel like putting one on, but he grinned like the Cheshire cat as if you’d planned it all along.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, with all the sincerity in the world.

He pressed kisses all over your chest, leaving light love marks on your breasts with a tender sort of possessiveness. He was a protective man, and the dangerous nature of life in Colombia had proved very hard for him to adjust to when it came to you. He made sure everyone who came into contact with you knew you were under his care, and anyone who hurt you would have him to answer to. Javier was the only thing that made you feel safe on nights when gunfire rang through the streets; you could have a whole army of bodyguards and defense details assigned to you, but the only thing that would ever make you feel truly safe was knowing Javi would move heaven and earth to protect you if need be.

He murmured to you in Spanish as he continued to kiss you, each world a lullaby you couldn’t translate but still understood. He helped you shimmy out of your shorts, not without a few soft laughs, and put his big hands on your hips as you started to slowly move against him.

“Wait, wait,” you said, a little breathless. He stilled and looked up at you, his expression a little dazed.

“What is it?” he asked.

You gestured to his clothes. “Your work clothes,” you said. “You can’t show up all... crumpled.”

He breathed a laugh. “No problem, honey,” he said, his hands resuming their wandering. “I brought a change of clothes, just in case.”

“Had it all planned out, hm?” you teased.

He hummed in agreement. “Just the part where I got to be with you, querida.”

He rubbed circles against your hips as you moved against him, kissing you deeply like he would never tire of it. You ran your hands over his shoulders before you had the presence of mind to tug open his nice starched button down, and you kissed every inch of his warm, tanned skin you could reach.

With the ease of having handled you well for years, his hand moved between you to rub your clit, the pressure making you draw in a sharp breath.

“Javi,” you breathed. You felt every ridge on the back of his hand as he pushed your panties aside to tease at your entrance; you rolled your hips against his knuckles, wanting him deeper.

He fingered you slowly, your breaths quickening together. He let you set the pace as you rode his fingers and crumpled the shoulders of his work shirt in your fists. His strong, calloused fingers and desperate, stolen kisses quickly brought you to the edge; he murmured words of praise as you breathed his name and gave a choked moan.

“Oh, Javi, ‘m gonna cum,” you whined.

“Go on, mi amor,” he said, his baritone warm with pleasure. “Cum on my fingers for me.”

His fingers curled inside you and drew something like a whimper from your throat, your orgasm crashing over you so strongly it almost surprised you. You rode out your orgasm on his fingers, digging your nails into his shoulders as he took great care to draw it out as long as possible.

“Good girl,” he praised, your breaths never quite leaving the space between you. “So good for me. Mi vida, mi corazón.”

Your hands moved down his torso until you were fumbling with his belt buckle, feeling how hard he was, wanting him to feel as good as you did. You tried your best to palm him - car sex had its drawbacks, and one of them was not being able to touch him a easily as you wanted to - but he seemed to like it just fine. He groaned and pulled your hips down closer, raising his own a little to meet you.

“Hold on, baby - ” He made short work of his belt and zipper, the desperate sound of them making you blush despite yourself as he pushed his jeans and boxers down. As hungry as he was, he settled you on his cock with a very tender, deliberate slowness; he gave you a second to adjust to him and both of you were still for a moment, breathless with the feeling of him filling you up.

“Javi,” you said softly. The windows were foggy as the rain continued to fall; his skin was lit in the gentle blue light of early morning, his curls mussed and his eyes meeting yours with a devotion and adoration that would never fail to take your breath away.

“Querida,” he said. “I love you.”

You didn’t know what to do with how much you loved him. You didn’t feel like you could ever truly express it; it was too much, too much a part of you. You gave him a stupid grin that he found more charming than anything else you could have done, and you felt him smile as you kissed him with patience and the surety of a woman who would spend the rest of her life loving him.

The cassette switched tracks to play your favorite song, the one Javi had playing the first time he told you he loved you. “Every time I tried to tell you, the words just came out wrong - so I’ll have to say I love you in a song.” Javi sang it to you all the time, and you felt it was only fitting that it was playing now as you started to move your hips against his.

Javi tried to go slow, drawing out his strokes as much as he could, but he’d been waiting patiently and you wanted to see the look on his face as you made him come undone. You angled your hips so his thrusts went deeper, carding your hands through his curls and tugging a little like you knew drove him crazy. He rocked his hips against yours and hit the spot that made you gasp and tighten around him; he groaned and pressed his face to your chest, his unsteady breaths warm on your skin.

“God, I love you,” he said in a tight voice, splaying his big hand over your back and keeping the other firmly on your hip. “Love you wearing my shirt. Love you riding me at five in the morning.”

You couldn’t help a choked laugh as he reached between you to circle your clit in time with his thrusts, certain he’d meant to amuse you and pleasure you at the same time, which was one of his greatest talents. You felt another orgasm cresting like a wave between your hips as he continued his dedicated lovemaking.

“Javi, baby,” you almost pleaded. One hand tangled in his hair while the other held his shoulder in a bruising grip. “God, don’t stop. Oh, I’m almost - ”

“Me too,” he managed. He kissed your jaw as he gave a particularly skillful thrust that made you give a sinful moan.

“Cum with me,” he said against your mouth. He gave you a deep, breath-stealing kiss. “Please, baby.”

You couldn’t have argued with him if you wanted to, and you leaned your head back and moaned in pleasure as he drew you over the edge, tightening around him as waves of your orgasm rolled over you. A string of curses tumbled from his mouth as he came deep inside you, giving you a final few thrusts that made you gasp with the delicious sting of almost too much pleasure.

He mumbled something in Spanish as he rested his head against your chest, pulling you as close to him as you could get. You gave a soft laugh and brushed your fingers through his hair.

“English, please,” you teased gently.

He chuckled and gave your chest a few trailing kisses before he looked up at you.

“Me has robado el corazón, mi amor,” he said. He tucked your hair behind your ear. “You have stolen my heart.”

You leaned your head against his and felt happier and more at peace than you had in a long time.

“I love you, Javi,” you said. You pulled back just enough to see his face. “What’s that thing you always say to me? The orange thing?”

He laughed then, sweet and genuine.

“Eres mi media naranja,” he said. “You’re the other half of my orange. My soulmate.”

You smiled. “Yeah, that’s the one. Eres mi media naranja, Javi.”

He gave you a kiss the way you best loved them, chaste and sweet and tender.

“And you’re mine, querida.”

i’m not tagging anybody from my forever list, because i don’t know if y’all signed up for me falling head over heels for pedro pascal ;) let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for him!

(actually, that’s a lie. i’m tagging @tv-saved-the-teenage-girl and @punkgeekchic because they’re legally obligated to know about every fic i write, and besides, they might like it ♡)

#y'all can have a little javi smut on new years eve...... as a treat #i think it's cute and sweet :)#let me know what you think!#and if you want me to write more for him ;)#javier pena x reader #narcos #javier peña #javier pena x reader fluff #javier pena x reader smut #wife!reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #javier pena fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #maddie writes stuff!

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awesomefroggy · 3 years ago

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Buckle up, I'm idea processing!

tl;dr I'm in an art show in April and I can't decide how I want to bring D&D into an art gallery. If you don't care about context and just want to read about art ideas, skip the first two paragraphs.

So. Go with me on a journey for a second. It is March of the year of our lord 2020. You are me, and only thing that brings you a modicum of joy or any emotion at all is Dungeons and Dragons. You play it three times a week at this point. And so, you do what any art major does in this situation: you make D&D the subject of your senior portfolio for your painting degree. Three characters, nine oil paintings, a million sketches, drawings, character sheets, hand painted self printed Hero Forge minis, business cards for character playlists, the whole nine yards were planned out. But two things got in the way. 1) This is wildly too ambitious a project for someone as fucking depressed as I was at that point. 2) We had a little thing called a global pandemic. So it never got finished. And I never got to have a senior show. And it all kinda died. No one really understood what I was going on about either. Which like... fair I guess, a whatever-flavor-of-neuro-divergent-person-I-am person just disjointedly infodumping about their hyperfixation can make it hard to "get it" but it really didn't help my motivation to try and finish it in spite of the pandemic.

But I always really loved the idea of bringing D&D character art into a gallery space. After I graduated, I let the idea of doing any sort of gallery art fall to the wayside. It wasn't feasible in the pandemic, and really I have no idea how to market D&D art to a gallery. But I got an email a few weeks ago, I was invited to be in an alumni show for those of us who didn't get senior shows because of the pandemic. Which means I get the chance to do it again, and it's so very very exciting.

I have two ideas for this, and I have zero idea what direction to go with.

1) A very very involved project of four or five character shadowboxes. Each box would have a (painted?) character portrait, and would then be surrounded by artifacts from their adventures: a pirate map or a magic necklace or tickets from the colosseum or a cool dagger or a dried druidcrafted flower or coins or ect. ect. Each one would have a little bio under it telling you about their backstory and their lives, and maybe links to character playlists?

Pros: Dope as hell. Unified concepts. Easy to explain. Cons: THAT'S A LOT OF WORK. Expensive. And I live in a very smol apartment with no ongoing studio space, which is kind of needed for something of that scale.

2) Just a smattering of character art. Prints of digital work. Maybe put the Wizards drawing in there that I love so much. Talk to friends and make sketch sheets and portraits and action drawings of their characters. All of it framed, or with sketch sheets in a portfolio or something. Just doing what I've always done, and putting it on display like a wall of family portraits.

Pros: I get to just go nuts with what I already do. I get to feature work that is representative of what I actually create on the regular. Works in the space and materials I already have. Cons: Doesn't feel as unified? Back to being hard to explain.

Usually by the end of a processing post, I have a better idea of which sounds better, but I'm still completely stumped. Thoughts?

#there's a lot more of you since the last time I art processed #feel free to chime in #opinions would actually be super helpful #froggy does art

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castelobyers · 2 years ago

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Hey @daydreams-in-the-moonlight thanks for tagging me 💛 I'm not the person that watch a lot of shows so i probably didn't watch something that was not mainstream

1. The vampire diaries - this show was one of the first shows that I've ever watched for my own when I turned 11 so it's important to me, was there where I started my career in watch shows where I definitely hate the main character but i like almost everyone else

2. Jane the virgin - this show made my days better when I finished high school, I'm not the big fan of Jane i have to say (i don't hate her like Elena but she was not my favorite) but i felt so connected with this show and it helped me a lot so it's very much important to me (Rogelio and Petra best characters 🤌)

3. Game of thrones - got fandom was my first series fandom, and i spent so many time with this show, knowing the backstory and the whole world you can explorate in books and every other thing that was so cool, game of thrones was definitely my first hyperfixation that made me even more mad when It ended, i can't start taking about the last season because if i start i will not know when I will stop (and i will be mad as fuck the whole time)

4. Brooklyn 99 - i love this thing so much, this show is my scape when things get hard so I'm thankful for he times we sped together. Now that i said what I feel i have to add FUCK THE POLICE! 🖕

5. Mr. Robot - another hyperfixation that i think that i didn't fully understand and this shows that i have to rewatch it again, but was fun to break my dumb brain with this

6. South park - you know when you're trying to leave your childhood behind so you do everything your parents didn't let you do when you was a kid? It was me when I was 11 and started watch this show, i never really understood the social critics when I was younger so i really just watched for fun and in 2021 i get obsessed with this again so i i rewatch everything again and it only gets better to me compared to my dumb 11 years old brain

7. Crash landing on you - my first K-drama, i am not a romantic person, i usually didn't like to watch anything only for romance (when it comes to straight couples because i love love love to watch a series about a gay/lesbian couple) so this was something not usual to me and even more unusual was my obsession with these two, they are so cute and the bittersweet ending makes everything even better

8. The last of us - I'm currently watching this show and this is breaking my heart in every single way as possible, and paraphrasing Michael Scott "i don't care if Ellie/Joel murdering their entire family they're like a daughter/dad to me"

If you saw this and wants to do, do it :)

Tagged by my dearests @sailorsally @cloudcas and @saintedcastiel

8 TV shows to get to know me

I'm not listing Supernatural cuz that's obvious lol

1. Frasier - I have rewatched this show 25 times, I quote it constantly, and every time I remember that I first watched it as a child my entire personality starts to make sense

2. Gilmore Girls - my mom and I first watched this when she was diagnosed and it became a staple in our lives. We were so much like Rory and Lorelai in our relationship, but even better.

3. Modern Family - seeing a big family like this constantly in each others lives and doing stuff together felt very familiar lol. Also it was pretty influential in breaking down some of the homophobic brainwashing I'd had through the church, both in me and my parents.

4. Avatar: The Last Airbender - just finished my rewatch of this show. It's so utterly beautiful and fun and compelling. I first watched it as a kid and its infinitely better to watch as an adult.

5. Top Gear/The Grand Tour - my emotional support middle aged men driving cars and being hilarious. I only have a mild interest in cars but they make it so interesting. This was a CHM blog before it was a spn blog.

6. Grace and Frankie - this show is EVERYTHING to me and I need Sol Bergstein to be my best friend forever pls. I wanna go to a farmers market with him and Coyote.

7. Sherlock - only because it was unfortunately my introduction to tumblr fandom and now I've been here nearly 10 years 😔

8. Friends - not just because I quote it constantly and have rewatched it 12 times but because my mom used to sing a lullaby to me to the tune of Smelly Cat and I didn't realize it until I was 16 and watched the show for myself!!

Tagging: @sadnatural @birdstiel @daydreams-in-the-moonlight @1x20 @monstermoviedean @fruityjackles

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maybedefinitely404 · 5 years ago

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Not Your Typical

Genre: college AU, hurt/comfort (kind of?)

Pairings: romantic Demus, Logicality, and Prinxiety

Content: some language, autistic character, sensory overload, mentions of losing friends in the past, anxiety, unintentional self harm, Roman is kind of a jerk but he regrets it, food mentions, unable to eat certain consistencies, beach/water/swimming, Janus being a disaster gay, ASL, selective mutism.

Word count: 6k

Comments: Like always, I don’t intend for these to be so long. Holy cow.

Janus is written based mostly on my experiences as someone with autism, and how it’s affected my childhood/relationships/daily life. No one’s experience is the same.

Janus was always alone. Alone, not lonely.

Most of the time, that is.

His whole childhood was an endless cycle of make a friend, weird them out, be alone. Find another friend, weird them out, be alone. And sometimes it hurt, yeah, but he got used to it. At home, he spent the entire day in his room, assembling structures out of legos before tearing them down and starting over. Sometimes he’d build something really cool, and that would stay up for a long time. He didn’t have any siblings, and his parents didn’t give a whoop as long as the floor was generally clear, so no one ever bothered the space ships or towers or just really long lines that stretched from one wall to the other. He liked those.

Things changed when he got to middle school. Life started getting real, people became more than just recess friends, and that unsettled him. He made a couple close friends, friends that he really opened up to only for them to leave him when he became too much. He just couldn’t help it though; he couldn’t help the way he bounced when he got so excited he couldn’t breathe, or how he couldn’t use words when he got overwhelmed by the touch and the noise, or how he couldn’t stop talking about his favorite shows or books. He was labeled as childish. It was like a label had been stuck to his chest that read “avoid at all costs”, and people did.

So he relearned how to be alone. He put a lava lamp next to his bed for when he needed something constant to look at, he got a collection of chewy necklaces and stim toys that never left his room. After a lot of research, he convinced his parents to buy him a weighted blanket for when every touch was too light, too agonizingly light, and he needed something firm to ground him. At school, or really around anyone, he learned to control his more obvious stimming and touch sensitivity by staying in oversized sweaters and jeans. He taught himself basic sign language for when he couldn’t talk, even though he knew his parents wouldn’t understand him. They took forever to learn basic signs, for ‘water’ or ‘quiet’ or ‘no’, and both eventually got frustrated and gave up. As if their frustration was anything compared to his.

It was going great, not perfect but better than before, until he graduated high school. Suddenly he realized he was about to move halfway across the country, to a new environment with new triggers and new people who didn’t understand that he wasn’t frowning because he was pissed, but because smiling when you didn’t understand the reasoning was exhausting. Why do people smile and greet you when they enter the room? Why couldn’t that be more of an… understood thing? I’m here, you’re here now, we both know that, so why bring so much attention to it? For once his parents were kind enough to help him out, taking him to the campus during the summer to get acquainted with the surroundings and learn the map by heart. He talked to the admission’s counselor, explaining his disability and why that meant he couldn’t be on the side of campus near the highway, because the constant noise and common sirens would make him explode. They were eventually able to move him to one of the other buildings, one with apartments instead of dorms, even though that was generally only for third and fourth years. It took a load off his shoulders; less noise, less people. The one thing he couldn’t do was meet his roommates before the year started.

The school got them into contact, and since he was the last to be assigned to the six person pod, they added him into their pre-established group chat. The other five already had nicknames, ranging from ‘Dad’ to ‘Rat Bastard’, and he immediately felt like an outsider. Not like that was new to him, though. Except, he didn’t stay like that. When one of the group, ‘Nerdy Mcnerd’ on the chat (he’d long forgotten their actual names), asked him what he liked and he immediately sent a list of special interests and hyperfixations, the top being snakes, it was like a door had been opened. Nerdy Mcnerd was a fan of space as well, and the two stayed up until all hours of night on their own chat discussing space and their place in the universe. Rat Bastard had an affinity for what people would categorize as “creepy animals”; octopi and squid, spiders, star-nosed moles, and most importantly, snakes. Their conversations mostly involved dopey pictures of snakes and unintelligible key smashes and emojis. Emo Disaster shared his love of darker themed TV shows, and they started a couple new ones at the same time, constantly updating each other with theories. When he mentioned his major was psychology, Dad was immediately overjoyed to be sharing the major with someone, and offered to help him study for the harder classes. He didn’t hit it off quite so well with Princey, who was put off by Janus’ so called “moodiness” and didn’t trust him.

When they finally met, it was supposed to be great. Janus knew the environment, somewhat knew his roommates, and was surprisingly excited for the new year. His joy was suddenly vanquished, however, as meeting these people face to face took a turn for the worse. Dad, Patton, immediately tried to go for the hug when he walked into the apartment for the first time, and was slightly taken aback when Janus reared back so hard he hit his head on the wall. The glee disappeared and he apologized profusely, and that’s when Nerdy Mcnerd, Logan walked in, explaining that Patton was very physical. They were over it rather quickly, but Janus shuddered as soon as the other two turned to each other. They had already claimed one of the three rooms for themselves, so Janus chose the one furthest into the apartment. He dropped his suitcases next to one of the two beds with a deep sigh. The thought of a hug… no. It unsettled him greatly, made his skin crawl. Maybe one day, but not now.

Emo Disaster and Princey, Virgil and Roman, arrived later in the day, hand in hand, bickering animatedly when they walked into the apartment. They were greeted with a huge hug from Patton and a side hug from Logan, and that’s when Janus recalled that they had all been roommates the year prior and again, felt a small tinge of pain. He was still the odd one out. Virgil gave a two finger salute to where Janus was sitting curled up on one of the bar stools, knees pulled to his chest and for the first time, Janus didn’t feel compelled to give a forced smile in greeting. It was a relief. The small nod was all that was needed. Roman however, was a different story. When they happened to make eye contact for the first time, the taller man still standing in the doorway, Janus flinched. Hard. The man’s eyes burned through him, as if scouring through his brain, eyes so full of passion that Janus had to look away. Eye contact was only an issue for him sometimes, but with Roman, it physically hurt. Which only made the theatre major more suspicious of him. As he passed him on the way to get a glass of water, the taller man blurted out, “You’re a first year, why are you in a third year building?”, earning him a gentle smack from Virgil. He answered with a lame shrug and rushed back to his room, conceding to just go to sleep, regretting leaving his drink on the counter.

No one besides Janus was surprised when the door burst open at three am and a loud voice screamed, “I’M BACK, FUCKERS!” He was frozen in place, woken with such an adrenaline rush that he couldn’t move. Outside, the other four exited their rooms with varying levels of annoyance and delight, greeting the final member of the group. Remus, as Janus heard them proclaim, was his roommate, the only two dwellers not in a relationship. The gremlin burst into the room, a deranged smile on his face, and Janus wanted to cry. Why did he have to be stuck in a room with the loud one? But Remus saw the mismatched eyes poking out from under the blanket and with no hesitation, sunk to the floor next to the bed, still smiling but a million decimals softer.

“Hey, Snakey. Sorry to scare ya. I’m Remus, but you can still call me Rat Bastard if you want. Call me whatever, I don’t really get offended. You go back to sleep, I’m gonna get settled in. We can talk in the morning.”

Janus wasn’t planning to fall asleep, not with this new person in his room, but Remus was shockingly silent as he unloaded his things (he packed a bunch of garbage bags, not even a suitcase or box), and he couldn’t help the way his eyes slipped shut.

First semester came to a close, and he was equally delighted and horrified that everyone was staying on campus for break. It had become harder and harder for him to avoid movie nights, or family dinners (as Patton called them), or days they all went into town together. In the beginning, he put it off to being tired. Then, studying for exams. Now with school halted for nearly a month, he was out of excuses. It was getting to the point where he could feel the frustration from his roommates, and he wanted to admit how much he wanted to spend time with them, until his drawer full of secret stim toys and chewy necklaces called him back. At times, he let himself spend time with them. Baked something with Patton, talked about the stars with Logan, sat with Virgil as they studied, and it was good. He never was able to escape Roman’s cynical glares that made him absolutely shudder, but he got on much better with his twin.

Remus never minded if Janus only greeted him with a raised eyebrow, and he was okay to have more one sided conversations while Janus drew, or after a few weeks, stared unapologetically. Because god, there was so much about Remus that Janus couldn’t help but watch, even if a normal person would get uncomfortable by his wide and unblinking eyes. Luckily, Remus was no ordinary person. But the younger still kept the drawer to himself, only allowing himself to nom on the plastic or squeeze the orbeez filled squishy snake with intense fascination when he was alone. So every time he was with the others and felt the need to stim or infodump or was about to have a stress induced meltdown, he would excuse himself and leave without so much of a goodbye. He couldn’t, not in front of them. Every time he left, he could hear Roman’s quiet remarks about him that stung more than he wanted to admit.

He’d had so many people leave, people he allowed himself to get close to, only for them to see the side of himself he tried to hide. In his heart, he knew that part of him wasn’t bad. It was just him. Other people didn’t understand that, though. No matter how much he tried to convince himself that no one would judge him, or laugh at him because they weren’t like that, he was scared. The effort was wearing him thin, and it came to the point where he realized he had to tell them. He had to, or he would burst, and that would be way worse.

It was just three little words: I. Am. Autistic. And he’d explain everything, tell them about his stims and limits and how he needed space sometimes and hugs others, and spill everything about himself, and they’d accept him. They’d have to, right? Only, the night he was planning to blurt out the truth, something stopped him.

They were eating dinner, one of the only ones he’d attended in a while. Patton kept glancing at him from across the table as he picked half heartedly at his lasagna, distracted from the lively conversation between the twins and Virgil. The whole thing was speckled with bite sized pieces of mushrooms and zucchini, two of the foods that he couldn’t eat to save his life. The texture made him want to recoil into himself and scream and yank at his hair, and he’d learned early in life that that wasn’t a normal response to food. He wanted to explain to Patton that it wasn’t the meal itself he was avoiding, that it wasn’t Patton’s cooking that he didn’t like, it was just the texture of those two things.

Well, maybe that was a good gateway into his big announcement, if you could even call it that. It felt almost as scary as his coming out to his parents had been. If they didn’t take this well, he might be exiled from the group. If they tried to put up with them, they’d get irritated so quickly and slowly freeze him out. He really didn’t want that. It needed to happen though, he realized. How much worse would it be if one of them walked in on him having a meltdown, holding a pillow over his mouth to block his screams, biting almost animalistically on a necklace? How unsettled would they be if they saw him hitting his blanket pile out of repulsion of the feeling of his textbook pages? Better to warn them ahead of time. It was only luck that had gotten him this far.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Logan hit the table with the heel of his hand and let out an almost guttural scream before storming into his and Patton’s room, slamming the door behind him. Janus nearly fell backwards off his chair, matching Virgil’s surprised expression. Roman went silent, wincing slightly.

“What…” It was the first word he’d said the entire meal. Patton whipped his head towards him as if he’d forgotten he was there, a sudden sympathetic look on his face. He gave a weak smile.

“Sorry about that, kiddo. Logan has autism, sometimes he can’t handle the stimulus around him. Or maybe he just had a rougher day than I thought. I’ll check on him after dinner, give him some alone time.”

Logan has autism.

Oh my god.

It was like everything clicked into place. His passionate talk about topics he was interested in that could rival Janus’ (if he would ever let himself infodump like he wanted). His mannerisms, his occasional emotional outbursts, his rigorous unbreakable schedule, it all made sense. For a brief second, Janus was elated. Someone like him, someone who understood! And if they accepted Logan, maybe they would be able to understand him, even if they presented different areas of the spectrum.

But… how would that look? Janus had hidden away his neurodivergent traits for so long, repressed them until he felt like he would literally explode… what if they thought he was faking it? It’s not like they knew him well, not with the amount of time he avoided being around them. They might think he was lying to get attention, didn’t want to be left out. Wanted to be special.

Patton seemed to be waiting for a response, he noted. He gave a curt nod, hoping it displayed that he was unbothered by Logan’s disability, before giving a stupid excuse about some reading to finish over break and darting back to his room. Remus joined him later, saying nothing about the fact that Janus was huddled under his weighted blanket, no book in sight. He sat down in front of the bed, a common habit of his now, and began to quietly talk about some new dark fantasy story he was designing, his lilting voice soothing Janus to sleep.

Time passed, winter came and went, and the end of second semester was drawing near. Janus was still careful with the way he presented to the others. They had picked up that he didn’t like physical contact, and though they never said a word about it, Patton’s lasagna recipe shifted, kept changing, until it no longer included mushrooms and zucchini. Janus refused to believe it was for his sake, though. He tried to join them for a couple movie nights, but the constant fear of stimming made his anxiety spike, therefore finding the need to stim more compelling, until he had to leave. It was getting harder, however, now that it was that pleasant in-between time where he understood how his new profs worked but it wasn’t exam season yet. His excuses were dwindling. Like always, Roman made his stupid quips that hurt him more than was probably intended, and he’d finally had enough.

Maybe that’s why he was staring out at the open lake in front of him, hands playing absentmindedly with the hem of his shirt as Patton and Remus squealed, sprinting into the water without a second thought. One of their shirts had landed on Janus’ sandaled foot, and he quickly kicked it off as the light touch began to irritate him. Logan stood to his side, watching his boyfriend with an almost imperceivable smile.

“You guys could have helped carry stuff if you were just going to stand there!” Roman’s indignant voice carried over the lawn, muffled slightly by the pile of towels he was carrying. Virgil snorted, whether in agreement or at Princey’s expense, Janus didn’t know. Either way, he dumped his handful of lawn chairs unceremoniously onto the lawn at their feet.

“You two set these up then. I’m hot, I’m going swimming.”

“Damn right, you are,” Roman grinned. Virgil raised an eyebrow.

“Damn right I’m hot, or I’m going swimming?”

“Yes.” He didn’t give any of them a second to retort, scooping up a shrieking Virgil before sprinting them both into the water.

“They didn’t even take their shirts off,” Logan commented, picking up a chair from the pile and unfolding it. Janus quickly joined in, helping him set the four chairs into a line and placing the towels down in front of them. “Did you want to go swimming?”

Admittedly, Janus hadn’t actually gone swimming, much less to the beach, since he was a kid. He was lucky to have even found a swimsuit amongst his other barely worn clothing; how it had snuck into his suitcase, he didn’t know. The water looked inviting and it was hot, but right now he was exhausted from the long ride over in Remus’ truck, having to refrain from plugging his ear when it got too loud or maintain his breathing carefully when a leg touched his.

“Maybe in a bit. I’m kind of tired.”

Logan turned to look at him, dare he say scrutinizingly? He washed the expression away quickly, asking, “Would you like me to stay with you?”

“No, it’s okay,” Janus mumbled, “You go have fun. I’ll be fine, I like the quiet.” As if to punctuate his point, a child screamed from the playground, making them both flinch.

“Are you positive?”

“Yes. Go enjoy yourself, Logan.”

He nodded curtly, pulling his shirt over his head in one fluent motion and walking towards the waves professionally, as if he were walking towards a lecture. Patton cheered from the water.

Janus didn’t concern himself with the time as it passed, instead letting his mind wander while he focused on a line of ants that were crawling up a tree next to him. It wasn’t until a fast approaching form caught his attention did he tear his eyes away, hearing him give a shout of “Be right back!”.

Remus plopped himself onto the towel next to him, still panting from the run, but grinning from ear to ear. As he ripped open a water bottle and drank greedily, Janus couldn’t help but stare. Water glistened on his skin like jewels in the afternoon sun, plastering his hair down over his jaw and eyes. His eyelashes were barely fluttering against his cheekbones as he guzzled nearly half of the bottle, his adam’s apple bobbing with each swallow. The jut of his shoulder, almost touching his throat, taking his weight as he leaned back on his arm… the whole thing was fascinating. People interested Janus as a whole; the way they functioned, how they seamlessly picked up on little cues from others that Janus was still in the process of figuring out, even down to intricate biology of cells was incredibly captivating. But Remus was so much more than that. His voice when he spoke him to sleep, never mentioning it the next day, the way his dark eyes glimmered with hope when Janus agreed to eat with them, the twitch of his moustache as he covered a laugh at Patton’s corny jokes.

He was art, plain and simple.

Janus didn’t know if what he felt was romantic attraction. It sure felt like it, except it had never felt quite like this before. It wasn’t that he was asexual or anything, he was actually decently far from it. It was just how uncomfortable most physical contact made him that gave him the idea he might never have a partner in the way that he wanted. He wanted to hold hands, to cuddle, to kiss… but at the same time, he didn’t. That is, he didn’t know how he’d handle it. Sure, he’d had crushes in the past, cute boys from his classes or celebrities in the shows he hyperfixated on, and still the feeling of uncertainty had stayed. With Remus, something was different though. Never before had a crush ever felt so breath stealing, chest clenching, awe inspiring-

“Like what you see?”

Janus flinched, realizing Remus had finished drinking and was beaming at him with that stupid gorgeous gleam in his eyes. He looked at his lap immediately, feeling his face heat up.

“Sorry.”

“Not a problem,” Remus smirked, having the audacity to wink at him before standing up. “I’m going back in. Coming?” He reached out his hand, hopeful. Janus took a breath, acknowledging that this was his first time initiating contact since he’d arrived, and grabbed Remus’ hand. The surprise on the other’s face was almost enough to make him laugh. He pulled the younger to his feet, keeping a firm hold in Janus’ hand. And… that was okay.

Until it wasn’t.

The second his feet touched the sand, it was like alarm bells exploded behind his eyes. He couldn’t describe it, but it felt wrong. It gave in too much, light sprinkles of sand covered the top of his feet and instantly every nerve was on high alert. He ripped his hand from Remus’, stumbling backwards onto the grass again. The elder spun to him with concern.

“Snakey? What happened?”

“I- hmm, no. I can’t. Nope. No no no. Wrong. It… hmmmm. Can’t.” The last word dragged out as his brain seemed to disconnect from his mouth. His mind didn’t work, so focused on how every blade of grass was swiping along his soles too softly, too gentle, too much. His hands had curled into fists and he was fighting against everything inside him to scream bloody murder, because oh god the wind was brushing the hair onto the back of his neck and it tickled and make it stop make it stop!

Janus could vaguely hear someone shout, and the loudness floored him. Get away, get away, it’s too much it’s too much. The feeling of the grass was gone, and he was sitting on his beach towel, but the wind was still brushing his hair too much, so he grabbed at it uselessly, begging it to stop, stop, stop.

“What’s happening?” Roman.

“Is he okay?” Patton.

“Does he look okay?” Virgil.

“Janus, breathe. You’re safe.” Logan.

Yeah, he knew that. He knew, objectively, that the wind isn’t out to get him and grass doesn’t hurt and sand isn’t supposed to fry your nerves. That didn’t change the fact that it did for him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, it connected that they were seeing him have a meltdown, finally. But he couldn’t focus on that, not when someone was touching his arm why are they touching my arm LET GO!

He screamed now, he couldn’t hold it back anymore. His breaths were ragged and gaspy, hands ripping at his hair to try and stop the fluttering strands. Then there was a new sound, an engine, a boat, and with it came the deep bass of some terrible music and there were people shouting and his head was hurting, why was it hurting so bad?! New hands grabbed his wrists and he writhed, pulling back from the grip that was pulling his fists away from where they’d been hitting his skull, over and over, trying to just get his stupid brain to work. Come back to the present, ground yourself, do SOMETHING!

And then something was in his hands.

His eyes peeled open (when had he shut them?) and he saw the dark blue stress ball, almost crushed between his fingers. The hands were gone from his wrist, and he took a deep breath, relaxing his hand and watching the slime filled toy slowly return to its natural shape. It was just like one from his drawer, the first stim toy he’d ever gotten. Familiarity. He kneaded it under his fingers, enjoying the comforting texture, the color soothing to his sensitive eyes. Bit by bit he felt himself relax, still holding the toy inches from his face between stiff hands, letting his legs unfurl. Without thinking, he raised a shaking hand to his chin and did the sign for ‘water’, and immediately regretted it. It was just such a habit around his parents, the only other people who had seen him break down to this extent, how could he be so-

He flinched as a water bottle was pressed into his raised hand, the lid already taken off. The water was so good, settling his senses and grounding him, like he’d been in hyperfocus before and it was dulled now. He gave the stress ball another squeeze, captivated by the way the slime moved, not even flinching as someone snapped in front of him.

Looking up for the first time, his first instinct was to crawl into a hole and die. Logan was sitting in front of him, slowly putting the cap back on his water bottle before handing it back to Patton, who was standing just behind him. Roman and Virgil had begun packing the chairs and bags agonizingly slowly and quietly. Impressive; they were almost done and he hadn’t noticed until now. He turned to his left and his heart completely shattered. Remus was sitting statue still, a few feet away, with a look of pure fear in his eyes. He sat on the edge of his knees, like he wanted to pounce forward and hug him but was holding himself back. He appreciated that.

Logan snapped again and Janus turned back.

‘Better?’ He signed slowly.

‘You know sign?’ Janus responded weakly, confused.

‘Patton too. I go nonverbal as well. Are you okay?’

The younger nodded, returning his hands to the stim toy on his lap. ‘Yours?’

‘Yes.’

“Is he okay?” Remus whispered suddenly, drawing their attention. He looked so scared, like anything could break Janus and he was scared he would cause it. Oh. Did he think he caused this?

‘Not his fault.’

Logan looked between the two, a look of confusion settling in his face. “What?”

‘Not. His. Fault.’ He signed sharply, a frustrated hum emitting from the back of his throat. ‘Not his fault!’

“Remus, he’s saying it’s not your fault. What does that mean?”

“I- I took his hand, and then this happened…” Remus started, leaning back onto his feet ashamedly, “If that wasn’t the cause, what was?”

‘Sand.’

Logan’s eyes filled with understanding, and he responded, ‘Sand?’ as if to double check that he got the right sign. Janus nodded again, slightly thankful for the mute state he was in. He wouldn’t be able to explain this as well as Logan would.

“If I’m understanding right, then my first assumptions were correct. Janus, did you just experience a sensory overload?”

Janus could only nod, meeting his eyes shakily. This is the moment. Now is his segway. If Logan wasn’t already suspicious, he surely was now. And he’d rather not have to explain, or come up with some half assed excuse if he was confronted later on why sinking his foot into sand had made him break.

‘I’m autistic.’ He fingerspelled it, not knowing what the sign was, or if there even was one. There was a beat of silence, the twins and Virgil exchanging puzzled looks, and Janus couldn’t even bear to look at the two people who would have understood. All his fears came rushing back. Would they think he was lying, or seeking attention, or or or-

“Oh, sweetie,” Patton crooned, sitting cross legged beside Logan, “We thought maybe… well, the possibility came up in conversation before. Lo was the one who brought it up.”

“Yes. Though our experiences differ, you seemed to exhibit symptoms that are common to the ASD spectrum. I thought it feasible, but did not wish to offend or frighten you by mentioning it.”

“We thought that if you were autistic, it would be yours to tell us,” Patton smiled softly.

“Wait,” Remus interrupted, “Janus, you have autism?”

Janus’ nervous glance up must have been enough to clue the rest of the group in, because Roman sighed and ducked his head into Virgil’s shoulder while Logan messily signed something which roughly translated to ‘how dense can someone be’. Jan couldn’t tell if it was a joke or not, but he cracked a smile anyways.

“Shit. Dude, I’m so sorry,” Roman murmured into Virgil’s shirt, “All the times I made fun of you for not joining us or anything, that was way out of line. I truly apologize.”

The youngest gave him the worldwide gesture for ‘it’s okay’; not exactly ASL, but it got his point across. Everything was packed up now, and Janus realized the implications.

‘Home?’ He asked Logan, eyebrows scrunched together.

‘Yes. You need to rest.’ He was right, he was exhausted. Getting to his feet along with Patton and Logan, he reached down to grab his towel, only for it to be promptly swooped up by Roman.

“I… I got it. Don’t worry about it. Okay?”

As soon as Roman turned his back, Janus couldn’t help his heavy sigh. This was another reason he had refrained from telling anyone. He didn’t want to be seen as a burden, or worse, a child. He didn’t need help with menial tasks like grabbing a towel. Virgil and him lifted all the belongings again, with less complaining this time, and began the short trek to the truck.

‘He’s not babying you,’ Logan signed, as if reading his mind, ‘He’s just guilty. If you want my advice, get as much out of it as you can.’

“Logan!” Patton chastised, failing miserably at hiding a smirk.

“Guys?” Remus’ uncharacteristically timid voice prompted them to turn back, “Could I talk to Janus for a sec?”

“You understand he is unable to speak at the moment, correct?” Logan raised an eyebrow, probably coming off more harsh than he meant to.

“I know. Just… please?”

The other two shared a knowing look that Janus didn’t understand, before Logan turned to Janus. “Is that okay?”

The youngest nodded, watching over his shoulder as the lovebirds joined hands, leaving him and Remus alone. When he met his eyes again, he was standing much closer, eyes searching nervously.

“Maybe this will actually be easier since you can’t talk,” he laughed, before his face fell dramatically, “Fuck, that’s not what I meant. I’m such an idiot, I didn’t mean-”

Janus held up a hand quickly, as if to say ‘it’s fine, settle down’, holding back a snicker. He’d understand if someone was upset by the comment, but he’d learn to take Remus’ jokes lightly. He never meant to actually offend, sometimes he just… blurted without intending to. He rolled his finger in a ‘keep going’ motion.

“Shit. Okay,” He’d never seen Remus blush, or stumble over his words before. Not like this, at least, “Now, don’t feel obligated to say you feel the same or anything, okay? This is just, my feelings, and mine alone,” A deep breath, “I like you, Snakey. I like you a lot. More than… more than a friend.”

Oh.

Janus was ninety percent sure he died right then and there. But Remus kept going, tripping over his words in a way that was so unlike him, and yet so perfect.

“I have for a while. I never said anything because I thought, maybe you disliked me? After today though, I think… well, maybe I was misinterpreting those signals. Like I misinterpreted today. That you didn’t want to be around me, no matter how hard I tried.”

Okay, Janus took it back. He wanted to be able to talk now, but his voice came out as another low hum, and he slapped his hand over his mouth, embarrassed. Remus pressed on, unfazed.

“Snakey, I swear to you, that you having autism doesn’t change those feelings at all. It’s not a bad thing, or a flaw, it’s just you. And everything about you is amazing, and perfect, and this is just another thing I get to learn about you. Any fears you had around telling us, telling me, you don’t need to have them.”

He’d never felt this kind of feeling before. In that second, he knew for a fact that this wasn’t a crush that he had on Remus. That wasn’t possible, because a crush had never made him want to break his social barriers like this. A crush had never made him want to make an exception, to stand on his tip toes and kiss him, even if the thought of a new touch usually caused goosebumps to rise on his arms. Because he felt so safe, so blissfully numb, so comfortable with Remus, that he’d be willing to give it a try.

This wasn’t a crush. This was-

“I love you,” Remus whispered, his statement accompanied by a large shaky breath.

He couldn’t say it back, not right now. Later, he would. For sure. Maybe a hundred times. So he did what he’d never thought possible and took that step forward, breaking his bubble that he’d always thought to be unbreakable.

It’s okay. You’re okay. This is okay.

For once, he actually believed it.

Janus reached a hand up, slowly, and rested it on Remus’ face. It wasn’t light, he couldn’t do half touches. It was solid, warm, real. Not a tickling touch that made him twitch, or a brush by that stole the very breath from his lungs. The positive response affirmed his will power, and he leaned up onto his tip toes. Remus looked absolutely stunned, but he didn’t pull away, he couldn’t if he tried. His breath caught in his throat as the elder glanced down, an unmistakable look to his lips.

Had Remus always had those green flecks in his eyes?

And he kissed him. Janus surged forward, pressing their lips together harsher than he’s intended, pulling a small gasp out of Remus. There was a whoop from the vague direction of where they’d parked, followed by a loud smack, and Janus couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips.

Remus’ hands were clasped at his chest, unmoving, probably afraid that if he touched Janus wrong, this would all be over. He’d have to explain half touches later. For now, he took one of his hands in his free one and guided it around, pushing it into the small of his back until Remus got the message to keep that pressure. He let out a small sigh through his nose, an action that sent a new round of butterflies exploding in the younger’s stomach.

This is okay.

This is all going to be okay.

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