#or i did before i realised that's not a trait most people like
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i just need adhd frank to be a real headcanon and i’m not gonna google it cause i’m gonna get upset that people disagree about it.
#shameless#adhd headcanon#i mean it's painfully obvious#the way any minor thing he disagrees with#starts an infodump episode for him#and people have no idea what he's on about#because it's so jumpy#the way he thinks#like things don't seem to have a coherent connection#UNLESS#you're neurdivergent like him#then you understand#because i do that too#or i did before i realised that's not a trait most people like#anyway#and then there's the addiction#and executive dysfunction#gallaghers are neurodivergent#they have neurodivergent genetics#lip being a genius for one#but being unable to stay in college#and they remind me a bit of the neurodivergent side of my family (my dad's)#but yeah someone knew what they were doing when they wrote this show
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I actually have sooo many issues with 911 lately that haven't even got much to do with any ships.
Like. They wrote out almost all of the side characters. Chris is gone, Linda and Sue are gone, Athena's kids are gone (even though Harry just moved in with her and Bobby again? Seriously, where is Harry?), Ravi is gone, Carla is gone. I know the GA maybe don't care that much, casual viewers might not even have noticed that this many characters have just vanished from the show, but in my opinion this is one of the things that give a show running as long as 911 life. Having a big cast is a good thing. Otherwise things are going to get very monotonous very soon.
Actually, that's my second point. They keep repeating storylines! Every season Hen and Karen have to fight a custody battle over one of their kids.
Every season Eddie ends up realising he has a lot of repressed trauma and issues which keep him from leading a healthy happy and free life.
Every season Bathena realise that they have communication issues and they fight about it, but then something traumatic happens and they forgive each other without ever really talking things out.
Every season we are reminded that Maddie's most prominent character trait is "traumatised", the writers just alternatingly bring up Doug again and sometimes the ppd arc.
Every season we see Buck being somewhat restless, looking and searching for something that will bring him true happiness and cycling through love interests that never stick around and each time when you think "oh, there it is, he's getting somewhere now" the writers go "BEEEP! WRONG!" and we start all over again. [This is not just about recent events aka Tommy, the break-up and Buck potentially going back to his 1.0 ways, this also happened in season 6 when he had his "it doesn't matter what other people see in me, I'm enough" revelation only to suddenly be like "omg, Natalia just sees me".]
And Chimney- he had his moment last season with the wedding episode, Kenneth Choi really ate that episode up, but his most prominent character trait is "Maddie's supportive husband". There's really not that much going on with him otherwise.
Another point I briefly touched upon above is consistency. Like Harry moving back in with Athena and Bobby and then just vanishing. Or Gerrard being more like a slightly unfriendly grandpa than an actual antagonist in season 8 when he was still spouting slurs in season 7.
And the timeline! We talked about this before ("last March", Mara's fostering to adoption timeline, Tommy tranferring to harbour "5 years ago"), but the newest "Tommy was actually Abby's Tommy" twist just adds to that. Tommy was with Abby for over 2 years. They were engaged. This was at a time when he was still at the 118. Tommy dated Abby presumably because he was in denial or maybe because he was hiding. In either case, wouldn't his team at least have heard about his fiancée, Abby the dispatcher? Wouldn't that have rung a bell when Buck eventually brought her around only a year or two later? Tommy did talk about his private life at least a little at work, even under Gerrard. It just doesn't make sense. (Not to mention this seems wildly out of character for Tommy who around the same time also said about himself "being single is easier".)
Then there's the pacing. This was a huge issue in season 7. They jumped from one personal soap opera drama to the next without taking any breathers, had almost no procedural in their drama the whole season, still somehow decided to spend one third of the entire season just on the opening disaster and also squeezed in a "Bobby begins for the third time now" episode. But okay, it was a shortened season, there were strikes, they switched networks, they were under a lot of pressure - I'll cut them some slack. At least they set up a bunch of interesting stuff for the following season.
But we're in season 8 now. The renewal was announced very early, they had a lot of time to plan this time. Also they have almost double the episodes they had last season, there's really no need to rush any of the major plots. I am done cutting them slack.
They wanna do a 3 part opening disaster again? Okay fine, you have the time now. I feel like they could've easily done it in 2 episodes (especially 8x02 felt a little "eh"), but okay. Better than the breakneck speed you were going at befo- Oh, what's that? 8x04 flying in with a steel chair. You resolved 70% percent of the plots you set up last season in one single episode with no build up, no emotional pay off and no lasting consequences? And you also squeezed in multiple unrelated calls at the same time? Damn, okay then. Good-bye potentially interesting storylines. Fuck me for being invested I guess. I thought there would at least maybe be some follow up in 8x05, but no.
Now that Halloween episode wasn't bad, it was actually the best episode of this season imo, but instead of following up on previously established conflicts and developments they just hit us with new Wilson family trauma and conflict that was also immediately fixed again. And now 8x06 has speedrun and dumped another storyline that had potential to go to deeper and interesting places. Not gonna talk too much about that though because this post is about the show as a whole, not ships.
And I am not yet convinced that there will be much more to come on the only thing that's left from last season: Eddie's deep dive into his trauma and repression. It's totally possible at this point that being told "you deserve nice things" by a random stranger actually solved all of his problems, it would be very in tone with 911's new style.
What are they even gonna do with the rest of this season? Revisiting the Hotshots set sounds fun, but ultimately inconsequential. You know what's great about a regular old procedural drama with ~20 episodes per season that comes on weekly? You have time. You can let the viewers sit with their emotions and thoughts for a week and keep them engaged by stretching things out a little.
But why should I bother getting emotionally invested in problems the characters are gonna solve within the same episode anyway? Or rather, even if I wanted to, how am I supposed to care if you don't give me the time to develop any feelings about anything that's happening? "Henren lost in court and are now completely forbidden from seeing Mara at all!" Damn, that must be so har- "JUST KIDDING! Ortiz is exposed and everything is perfect again now." Oh. Okay then, I guess.
Bottom line: The characters are all stuck in their own hamster wheels, they keep cutting side characters that could bring a breeze of fresh air (I'm honestly surprised they even kept Josh until now), they rush through all the storylines a such a ridiculous speed that I don't even have time to feel any sort of way about it, they don't even try to keep a consistency or sensible timeline going and they seem to strongly prioritise random funny bits that'll entertain the very casual viewers right now in this moment (tiger call, Billy Boils, Bee-nado, the 'Stache tm, "wait, it's the same Abby?", Gerrard being a fangirl at heart) instead of playing the long game and catering to people who actually pay a little attention to the show.
[On that last remark: I'm not talking about hardcore fans who analyse every single frame here, I mean casual fans who've watched the show on and off again for a while and who may not be involved in fandom but genuinely care about the show.]
I mean. What am I even still doing here? The show is treading water and I end up disappointed more often than not. I'm still holding out a little hope that they actually will do something interesting with Eddie and his sea-monkeys, but I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't.
#911 abc#911 spoilers#911 review#long post#911 season 8#evan buckley#eddie diaz#hen wilson#chimney han#maddie han#bobby nash#athena grant
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𝑨 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕
Pairing: Alexia Putellas x reader
Words: 5.5k
Warnings: Mentions of throwing up. Panic attacks. I think that’s it.
Summary: Your time at Barça comes to an end.
Notes: I tried to add a little more detail to my writing, so I hope it turned out somewhat decent <3
[prompt list]
A lot of people have told her what it was like to truly be in love. To feel that spark, that infatuation and instant connection that has you feeling weak at the knees. But Alexia hadn't truly known what love was until she'd met you. Like, true, fulfilling, genuine love that was both so exciting and terrifying it felt like falling off a cliff with no idea how high it is or what was at the bottom.
You came into her life unexpectedly, a ray of sunshine; always shining bright and radiating both warmth and happiness wherever you went. You make everyone around you feel good without even trying, a trait most people in this world lacked due to no fault of their own. Wherever she turned, you were there, the smile on your face so genuine it was hard not to smile back.
She doesn’t quite know how to put into words just how much she loves you, but if she has to try, it was like being on the brink of something extraordinary every single waking moment. You make her feel adored and valued on the days where she can't even stand herself. You make her feel cherished, important, like the ground beneath her wouldn't cave in at any second.
It was like a rollercoaster ride all of the time. Some days were both thrilling and exciting, and some days it was both dizzying and terrifying. Sometimes it was so overwhelming she doesn’t quite know what to do with herself. What was was sure of though is she wouldn't want to do any of it by herself. You were her everything, and she was yours, and she wasn't going to let anyone or anything get in the way of that. Including the fact you were moving half way across the country to join Arsenal.
It had been on the first of the month that you'd told her. You had been quiet and withdrawn for the entirety of the day, only responding to her futile attempts at conversation with quiet hums and one word answers.
Alexia hadn't quite known what to do when you'd exited the car with a quiet request for some space. You barely even give her a chance to respond, grabbing your things from the trunk before disappearing into the apartment building. Alexia had waited what she'd thought was a good amount of time before making her way inside too, footsteps hesitant and a deep sense of unease filling her stomach. The apartment door was closed, just as she'd thought it would be, and she does everything possible to swallow back the inevitable tightness in her throat as she unlocks the door and makes her way inside.
As she sets down her things, she realises everything was so unnervingly quiet she could hear the sound of her own breath. It was loud, quick, so clearly full of anticipation she pauses for a second to get herself together. It wasn't like her to be so unsure of herself, not when she was around you. Not in the comfort of her own home where it had taken months for her to fully accept the fact that no matter what mood she was in or how bad her day had gone you'd always welcome her inside with open arms.
Even when you'd had a bad day you were always willing to be around her. Your smile, whilst a little sad, still so genuine it made her thank whoever was above for bringing you into her life. Not only were you always willing to put everybody above yourself, you did so without consideration of your own feelings.
Perhaps that was why the sense of impending dread was unlike nothing she'd ever felt before, because not once in this relationship had you ever pushed her away. Been so quiet and so unwilling to talk.
Accepting your need for space, she walks past the closed bedroom door and makes her way through to the kitchen. She stands in the middle of the room for a few unsure seconds before deciding to make a start on dinner. If you won’t talk to her, the least she could do was feed you. You always love her cooking no matter what she makes, and she hopes the comfort of a home cooked meal would help ease whatever upset you were feeling.
In the bedroom, you were laid on Alexia's side of the bed, your body curled up small and your head buried into her pillow. It was soaked with tears, the material uncomfortably sticking to the skin of your cheek.
You didn’t think the word pain quite gives the way you were feeling justice. Oh no. It quite literally felt like someone had ripped your heart out of your chest before trampling all over it and shoving it back in. You were leaving Barcelona. Leaving Alexia. The word pain couldn't even begin to describe just how absolutely devastated you felt.
The second you had found out they weren't signing you for another season, it was as though everything around you had turned fuzzy, almost like the feeling you get when your leg falls asleep. An emptiness had suddenly filled you and it was so profound it made your chest physically ache. You hadn't heard a single world Jona after the fact. It was as though your world had stopped and in a way, it had. Your life in Barca, with Alexia, was no longer, and you only had your self to blame.
You should have been better. Scored more. Not gotten so many yellow cards. Done something, anything, so they would like you better and want you to stay. And maybe had they told you before the transfer window had closed, you could have at least tried to change their minds. But they hadn't. They'd kept it to themselves until the last possible second and because of that, there was now absolutely nothing you could do to change it.
You were leaving, and you had no idea just how you were going to tell Alexia without tearing your heart completely in two. You could hear her, if you really focused. The sound of ceramic dishes hitting the table and the soft thuds of her feet as she walks. She was cooking dinner, just as she does most nights after you get home from training if you don't opt to order in.
Most nights, you'd been in the kitchen with her. Sometimes sat on the counter and sometimes stood behind her holding her body to your own. You'd steal small morsels of food of whatever she'd decided to make that day and you'd pout playfully when she'd scold you for doing so. You could only imagine just how clueless she feels in there by herself, not knowing what was wrong or how to help. It makes a part of you want to go sit with her, just for the company, but the thought of seeing that beautiful, oblivious face, so unaware of the news you held simply made you want to crawl into a hole and die.
You can’t face her. Not yet. Not ever if given the choice but that simply wasn't an option. Telling her was inevitable, and you just had to accept the fact she might hate you for it despite it being completely out of your control.
You have no idea just how long you end up laying here for before you hear the sound of two gentle knocks against your bedroom door. They were barely audible, and you take that as an almost cruel opportunity to pretend you hadn't heard them. The door opens anyway, the sound of it creaking a deathly loud noise in comparison to the quietness of the room.
"Amor?" Her voice was a quiet, tentative whisper sounding so unsure it has you screwing your eyes so tightly shut in a futile effort to prevent anymore tears from falling. "Amor," the same soft footsteps you'd heard earlier make their way closer to the bed. "I made you dinner."
Silence.
Alexia softly clears her throat. "It is Pasta. Your favourite." She trails off hopefully, and it takes everything in you to remain still. You can’t face her. Not yet. You weren't ready.
Alexia wrings her hands nervously as she takes another small step closer to the bed. "I..." she hesitates, scratching the inside of her wrist. "I do not know what happened. Will you please talk to me?"
More silence, and you'd never hated yourself more.
"I do not know what to do" Her voice audibly trembles making the tightness in your throat physically impossible to swallow back. You could feel your resolve wavering. Just because you couldn't tell her what was wrong right this second didn't mean you can't let her sooth you, right?
"Bebé?"
With a deep, shuddering breath, you use every ounce of strength within you to sit yourself up and face her. She was standing just a few feet away from the bed, toes scrunching and un-scrunching anxiously against the carpet. Her hands were clasped tightly around her shirt, wrinkling the material as she squeezes and twists.
But what breaks your heart the most was the wetness staining her cheeks. She was crying. Crying because of you. Because you were too much of a wimp to simply tell her what was wrong. The guilt you were already feeling amplifies by a thousand, and you were forced look away from her before you well and truly broke.
"Amor?" She whispers unsurely, and you sniffle softly as you wipe your sweaty hands on your pants before taking a deep breath. It was a futile effort at composing yourself, but you simply had nothing else left in you.
"Will you-"
"I don't want to talk about it. Not yet. I can't." you cut her off, and Alexia swallows heavily before nodding her head. The overwhelming sense of dread that had once faded makes an abrupt reappearance at your words, but she tries desperately not to let it show. If she pushed, you'd push back harder, and she'd never figure out what was going on.
"Okay." She accepts in a quiet whisper, unwilling to do anything that might upset you further.
You raise your eyebrows in disbelief. "Okay?"
She nods.
"Okay." You whisper with a quiet breath of relief.
"Will you come eat?" She asks hopefully after a few seconds of silence. "I made your favourite."
The thought of food alone made you feel so incredibly nauseous you were forced to swallow back a different kind of tightness in the back of your throat. It pains you to reject her again, but you just couldn't do it. Not without ending this already horrible day with your head stuck in the toilet.
You shake your head. "Ale, I'm not-”
"Just a few bites?" She pleads quietly, hesitantly. "For me?" She holds out her hand.
You look up at her. You take in her wet cheeks, the unsure body language and the trembling fingers. You'd put her through the wringer tonight without even trying, and it was clear to see she was desperate for some sort of normality. Despite everything in you screaming to say no, you find yourself standing up and taking her hand. You were barely on your feet for two seconds before she envelopes you completely in her arms, her chest flush against your own as your feet hang from the floor.
Your bottom lip wobbles as she buries her head against your neck, your head dropping to rest heavily against her shoulder. It takes you a few moments, but your arms do eventually find themselves wrapping securely around her shoulders. At the feeling of you returning the embrace, she drops an arm from around your waist and hooks it beneath your behind, bouncing you up slightly so your legs cold wrap around her waist.
"I am sorry." She whispers, the words taking a few moments to fully register in your grief ridden mind. The second they do, you lift your head off of her shoulder and reach your trembling hands up to coax her face away from your neck. You were glad to see she wasn't crying again, but you could tell by the shininess in her eyes that it was taking everything in her to hold the tears back.
"No," you shake your head, cupping her cheeks and wiping the pads of your thumbs to rid them of their wetness. Alexia blinks, and you catch the first tear that escapes before it could fall. "No," you repeat. "You don't have to be sorry. You've done absolutely nothing wrong. Nothing at all."
Alexia swallows.
"It's..." the tears you'd been trying to desperately to hold back break free, and you make no effort to wipe them away. "I'm not ready to talk yet, and I'm so, so sorry that means you're being kept in the dark. I just need...a few hours. Just a few hours to process and then we'll talk, okay? I promise."
Alexia looks even more terrified as her grip loosens just slightly. "Are you...are you bre-"
"No." You're aware of how panicked you sound, but you needed the message to get through to her before she could fully mistake her assumptions for the truth. "No. I'm not. Not now. Not ever. I could never...no."
Her grip tightens around you again, and you let out a relieved sounding sob as you fall limp against her. You feel one of her hands lift to rest against the back of your head, and for a second, you allow to yourself to break; for her to comfort you, because after hearing what you had to say, it could be the last time she ever does so.
Alexia doesn't think she's ever felt more useless in her entire life as she holds you close, her throat burning, threatening the onslaught of tears. Something serious was going on. There has to be. She's never seen you this upset before, not even when you'd done your acl just a few months after she'd done hers. You'd been upset then sure, but you'd never shed more than a single tear in the year it had taken to get back on the pitch, and that year had been hell for both of you.
Tightening her grip around you, she turns in place and makes her way through to the kitchen. The two plates of pasta were just as she'd left them, though she suspected they'd long gone cold now. Knowing you wouldn't be able to eat despite saying that you would try and not particularly caring about her own meal, she passes the kitchen table and makes her way over to one of the free spaces left on the countertop.
She purposely ignores the burning in her arms as she eases you down and settles herself between your legs, feeling the way your crossed feet settle against her backside as her arms secure themselves tightly around your back. You were still in her arms, thankfully no longer crying if the lack of tears against her neck was anything to go by. It allows Alexia to relax momentarily for she knows things would sure turn south once you reveal what was making you so upset.
You pull away a few moments later, sniffling softly as Alexia tenderly cups your cheeks to wipe away the wetness staining them. You lean into her touch, eyes fluttering shut when she leans in and presses a lingering kiss to your forehead.
"I love you." She murmurs against the warm skin, and you're forced to once again swallow back your emotions as you take her wrists and press a soft kiss to the inside of them both.
"I love you." The unsteadiness of your voice was obvious, and you're grateful when Alexia makes no attempt at pointing it out. She leans in and kisses you, tasting the saltiness of your tears, and your hands desperately cup her face, not allowing her to pull away. Alexia's hands grasp your sides as she deepens the kiss just slightly, feeling the soft exhale you breath out through your nose against her skin. When you pull away, your eyes were closed, and Alexia takes this as her chance to really take you in.
Your expression gives absolutely nothing away. Nothing at all. Her gaze was still on you when your eyes finally open, brown irises full of an emotion you couldn't quite decipher. You tilt your head to the side, a silent question to which she nods in response to. Seconds later, the look in her eyes changes. Now, they were light, hopeful, willing for you to open up and trust her and god did you so badly want to.
"I am going to make you a smoothie." She breaks the silence, her hands giving your thighs a soothing squeeze as she steps out of your hold and makes her way over to your refrigerator. You watch her retreating figure as you let out a soft sigh. You still didn’t think you could stomach anything, but the thought of a smoothie was admittedly more appetising than cold pasta. You felt a little bad that the meal she’d cooked you had gone to waste, but seeing as though Alexia doesn't mind, you try not to either.
Alexia's eyes skim the contents for a few moments before she pulls out a few different fruits she knew were your favourite. She sets them down onto the counter next to you before heading to the sink and thoroughly washing her hands, allowing the water to run a little hotter than appropriate in a futile effort at feeling something other than complete and utter dread.
It doesn't work, and as she dries her hands, she wonders just how much longer she would be able to last before she inevitably breaks and begs for you to tell her what was going on. When she'd torn her acl, the fear she'd felt about not being able to play the sport she loved more than anything else in this world pained her more than she could even begin to explain. But the fear of losing you was a tenfold to that. Because yes, football was her world, but you were her entire universe so feeling this dread, this uncertainty and uneasiness was so, so much worse.
Softly clearing her throat, she forces a smile into her face and makes her way back over to you. You were in the exact same position, though now you were staring at her with pity. It makes her bristle just slightly, but she forces herself not to react as she grabs the blender out of the cupboard and plugs it into the wall.
The process of making both smoothies was done in silence. Alexia doesn't say a word, and neither do you. Soon, Alexia was back between your legs, a small glass in her hand that held the contents of your smoothie. You don't let yourself hesitate as you gently take it from her, bringing it to your lips for cautious sip. When it doesn't seem as though your stomach would reject it, you allow yourself a proper mouthful, a hum of content falling from your lips as you swallow.
"Good?" Alexia murmurs as her hands retake their place on each of your thighs, squeezing the flesh softly before her palms begin tracing gentle circles against the soft skin. You nod your head, holding the glass up to her lips despite the fact she had her own smoothie just next to you. The blonde smiles as she allows you to feed her, swallowing with a hum of content similar to your own.
You take turns in sipping both the smoothies until they were gone, Alexia setting the glasses into the sink to be washed later before scooping you back up into her arms. You welcome the closeness by allowing her to carry you through to the living room without complaint, her larger frame beneath your own as she settles comfortably on the couch. She says nothing as she slips her hands beneath your shirt to rest on the small of your back, the tips of her pinkies tracing over the dimples at the bottom of your spine, but you can tell by the look in her eyes alone that there was so much she wants to say.
It had barely even been an hour since she'd brought you out of your room, and whilst you still weren't ready to talk, you knew leaving her in the dark for any longer would be unnecessarily cruel. Unsure on whether or not she'd even want you near her when you found the courage to reveal the news, you slip off of her lap and perch on the edge of the coffee table instead, making a futile effort at avoiding eye contact as you wipe your suddenly sweaty hands off on your shorts.
You hear Alexia shift forward slightly until her knees brush against your own, her hands reaching forward to rest on either of your thighs. Your own hands circle her wrists, feeling the steady, consistent pounding of her pulse beneath the tips of your fingers. She doesn't force you to talk. She simply sits and waits, her presence alone a major comfort in a moment so anxiety inducing you felt as though you were only seconds away from throwing up.
A single drop of grief wells up in the corner of your eye as you swallow heavily, the small droplet of salty water streaming down your cheek leaving a tickling sensation in its wake. The blonde opposite you remains silent, but her hands slip down to the skin behind your knees, tugging them a little firmer against her own. Knowing it was now or never, you force yourself to make eye contact.
"I'm leaving Barça." Your voice was emotionless.
Alexia blinks as her hands freeze mid stroke against your thighs. "Qué?”
You swallow. "They didn't resign me for another season. I'm moving to Arsenal." The words felt like vomit on your tongue.
Alexia could do no more than stare as she feels the room begin to tilt around her, every sound becoming no more than a muffled echo. Her heart feels as though it had gotten stuck, each beat a sharp jab against her chest. Her mouth parts, but no words seem to be able to escape. She simply sits. Frozen. Like her entire body had forgotten how to move.
Your hands tighten around her wrists as the world around you blurs with the onslaught of tears. "I'm sorry," you choke out. "They only told me today and I...I don't want to go. I don't want to leave you." Panic gnaws at the edges of your mind when Alexia remains silent. "Say something. Please." The desperation in your voice was evident.
Alexia shakes her head as if trying to shake off the reality that was suddenly crashing down around her, her hands lifting off of your thighs and visibly trembling. She clenches them into tight fists, a futile effort for control as her gaze darts unsteadily around the room.
"I..." she has no idea what to say.
“Alexia?” You plead.
Nothing.
You feel an overwhelming urge to flee beginning to fester in the back of your mind as your hands tightly clutch the material of your sweater. Alexia's knees were still pinned on either side of your own, halting your inevitable escape. You were trapped by her, both physically and emotionally, and the longer she remains silent, the more your panic begins to build.
Your leg begins to bounce on its own accord; your heart races and it feels as though you weren't getting enough air into your lungs. A spiral of panicked thoughts keep repeating themselves, becoming more and more insistent as the minutes pass. Alexia hates you. Alexia was going to leave you. Oh god. Nausea swirls in your gut. You can't breath. Are you dying? You're dying. You have to be dying. Why can't you breath? Panicked eyes search the room for an exit. The front door. The back door. Which was closer? You didn't know. But you had to get out. You had to go.
A gentle, unsteady hand cupping your cheek startles you, and your head whips round so quickly you almost give yourself whiplash. Alexia was staring at you, eyes wide in alarm. Her lips were moving. But you couldn't hear her voice. Couldn't make out what she was saying. Why couldn't you hear what she was saying?
You feel your body move, steady hands beneath your armpits. They support the entirety of your weight as you were lifted slightly into the air. Strong, familiar thighs were soon beneath your own, your heaving chest pressed flush against Alexia's. She wraps her arms so tightly around your midsection you have no choice but to mimic her breaths. They were steady, consistent. You choke out a pathetic sounding sob as your heart continues to pound, your body unintentionally fighting her own.
But her grasp was tight. So tight you could feel nothing but her. She begins to rock. Back and forth. Back and forth. The motion was steady. Repetitive. You feel your chest loosen. Just slightly. Enough for you to breath. To get some much needed air into your lungs. The white noise in your ears begins to fade. You could hear again. Alexia was talking. In Spanish. You couldn't really understand what she was saying. But her tone was soft. Soothing. Warm. The pounding in your heart slows, and you can breath again.
You no longer felt like you were dying. Everything was quiet. Calm.
Alexia's body stills as your desperate grasp around her shirt loosens, your head falling heavily against her shoulder. Her lips press against your neck, dotting gentle kisses over the soft expanse of warm skin. You shudder a little at the sensation as you hunch your shoulders up to your ears, hearing Alexia huff out a quiet sound of amusement as she halts her affectionate attack. You feel her hands rest on each of your hips, squeezing softly before easing you away from her. When your eyes meet her own, you could clearly tell she'd been crying.
And Alexia had been.
It had taken a little while to gather her thoughts -and to get over the curveball that had been thrown her way- but eventually, Alexia had come to the quite obvious realisation that just because you wouldn’t be in the same country anymore didn’t mean your relationship was over. Long distance sucks, but it was possible, and there were many cases where it had been quite successful. Take Ona’s girlfriend, Lucy, for example. Lucy had left Barça nearly four months ago, and both she and Ona were closer than ever. Yes, being apart would be difficult. She was fully aware of that fact. But doesn’t the saying go, distance makes the heart grow fonder?
"That was a bad one, huh?" She murmurs as she presses her forehead against her own, and you could do no more than nod. Panic attacks weren't uncommon for you, but rarely does it get to the point where Alexia has to intervene anymore thanks to years of therapy. You'd learnt to anticipate the usual warning signs allowing you to talk yourself out of one before it could even begin, but that evidently hadn't been the case today for obvious reasons.
"Was it because of me?" Her hands cup your cheeks, thumbs wiping away the wetness beneath your eyes. Her touch was so gentle you could barely feel it.
You shrug noncommittally as you harshly wipe off your cheeks. "Not really."
"Not really?" She raises an eyebrow, and you sigh lightly as you tuck a damp strand of hair behind your ear.
"I just..." you trail off. "I guess I just panicked. You wouldn't answer me and my mind just jumped to the worst case scenario." You admit, hating the fact you were once again so close to tears.
Alexia's eyebrows furrow in confusion as she loops her arms around your waist. "What do you mean?"
"I told you...I told you I was leaving, and you didn't say anything. My mind jumped to the conclusion that that was because you hated me and never wanted to see me again." Voicing your thoughts out loud made them sound stupid, and you worry now that maybe you'd majorly overreacted.
Alexia doesn't seem to have the same concern.
"Amor, you really think that little of me?" She sounds more hurt than she does mad, and the guilt hits you like a punch in the stomach. You immediately shake your head as you attempt to amend the situation.
"Of course not," you insist. "But I panicked. As I said, worst case scenario.”
Alexia releases her hold on you for a short second as she rubs her hands over her face.
You can't help but frown. "Ale, I'm so-"
Alexia cuts you off cupping your cheeks and kissing you fiercely. It quite literally takes your breath away, and you have absolutely no time to reciprocate before she was pulling away.
"I love you," your mouth parts to say it back, but Alexia shakes her head, resting her pointer finger against your lips. You gently kiss the digit, lips quirking up into a small smile when Alexia plainly pokes your nose. "I love you, and whilst I am so incredibly sad you are going to be leaving, it is not forever. I will visit you, you will visit me.”
"But it won't be the same." Your voice was a broken whisper.
Alexia clears her throat softly as her eyes grow shiny with tears. "I know," she murmurs, taking both your hands in her own and squeezing softly. "But we will get through this, sí? You are strong, and I am strong. We will be strong together until we are no longer apart."
"Strong together." you mimic, and Alexia nods with a sad smile on her face. You attempt to mimic that too, but you find it difficult to do thanks to the way your bottom lip was trembling. The first tear falls before you could stop it, and Alexia blows out a shaky breath as she pulls you back into her arms.
Yeah, this was going to suck.
*
So yeah. Alexia loves you so terrifyingly much that she was willing to risk your relationship by being approximately nine hundred and twenty nine miles apart. You had faith you would be just fine, but a small part of you, way way deep down was sure it would end up crashing and burning right in front of your eyes. Long distance relationships were hard, and yes, you loved each other, but would that really be enough in the long run? Would love really be enough to survive who knows how many years apart with only the occasional visit until your contract at Arsenal ended?
You'd voiced your worries to Alexia who had been quick to assure you that whilst your fears were valid, they were wrong. That it was just your brain, again, jumping to the worst case scenario because you were anxious about leaving. She'd assured you that love was most definitely enough, so long as you communicated with one another which was something you were both thankfully pretty damned good at.
From that moment forward, you make the most of what time you have left together. You go on dates that last all day, visiting all the places in Barcelona you’d fallen in love with. You spend hours in bed, skin against skin as your favourite movie plays in the background. You even make the drive over to Alexia’s childhood home and spend the day with her family as one final farewell.
Your team was told about your transfer just two weeks before you leave, tearful hugs being shared with the ones you were most close to. Mapi had all but clung to you throughout the entirety of your last training session, Ingrid having to coax her into letting go when it was time to head back home.
You play your last game a few days later, playing the entire ninety minutes and scoring three goals with the assistance of Aitana. When the whistle had blown, your entire team had surrounded you, murmuring their praises and pulling you into hugs so tight you struggled to catch your breath. You tightly clutch the crest on your chest as your eyes skim around the arena, meeting the tearful yet smiling faces of the fans who were cheering so loudly for you it was the only sound you could hear.
This was it. Your time at Barça was over, and what a ride it had been.
**
Tags:
@codiemarin @goldenempyrean @girlgenius1111 @ceesimz @liloandstitchstan @xxnaiaxx @marysfics @alexias-putellas
#alexia putellas x reader#soft alexia putellas#alexia putellas x you#barcelona femeni x reader#barca femini x reader#woso x reader#woso community#woso imagine#woso appreciation#slight angst#happy ending
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kitsune!suo x fem reader | feudal japan au
→ notes for an au set in feudal japan, featuring supernatural creatures and spirits (e.g., youkai). suo is a kitsune, sakura is a nekomata, and nirei is an onmyouji. → see this post for backstory on the bofurin trio (recommended background reading)
note: most information on kitsune-mochi were sourced from folkorist lafcadio hearn's accounts of traveling in japan (c.1901). I did, of course, also take creative license with some of the lore.
reader | kitsune-mochi (fox-employing witch)
→ as a kitsune-mochi, you are a human who has entered a contract with a fox spirit to care for it in exchange for having it lend you its power and carry out your requests. → in your case, your familiar is suo, a nine-tailed kitsune that lost his hoshi no tama. → most witches employ kitsune for the purpose of carrying out malicious acts, like having the fox spirit possess their enemies, steal the wealth of other people, etc. you, however, rely on suo and his power in order to perform exorcisms and exterminate demons—something that you cannot do on your own because you have no innate spiritual talents yourself.
→ although a convenient source of power, these deals are typically risky for the contract holder. you are expected to care for suo for the rest of your life, and any descendants you might have would be cursed to serve him as well. kitsune-mochi are heavily ostracized by human society as well, so if this relationship of yours were to be discovered, then your entire bloodline would suffer. → additionally, these contracts typically favour the kitsune, as they are the ones who define what it means to be "cared for", and may request dangerous or unreasonable tasks. → fortunately for you, suo is not a very demanding familiar! the most basic act of caring for a fox spirit is feeding it, and he's more or less happy with anything you make, though he especially likes tea, wagashi, or dishes with aburaage. this is more or less all he asks of you! → suo's disposition is generally so patient and gentle that you nearly disbelieved that he was a youkai. you were convinced for a while that he was actually a messenger of god who was lying to you about his identity for some reason. (at the very least, you'd noticed that he had a habit of lying to people generally, though this was an unsurprising trait for a fox and it was usually harmless fun.) → this perception of him was shattered when you saw him fight a youkai that seriously injured you. he spent an uncomfortable amount of time toying with it in a distinctly humiliating fashion before finally putting it out of its misery. it was only in that moment that you realised that you'd signed yourself and all of your descendants up for serving a literal demon 👍
→ warning: immortal/human relationship, immortal deity meets reader as a child but doesn't get to know or grow close to them until they're an adult
your backstory with suo
→ at a very young age, you were adopted and raised by a priestess of an inari shrine belonging to a small mountain village. consequently, you developed a deep respect for the kami and affection for foxes. → as a child, you once found a one-eyed, wild fox in a near-death state. this was suo after he lost his hoshi no tama in a battle with a demon—but to you, he just looked like a regular animal. most people would have let this creature die peacefully, but you were adamant on nursing it back to health. while caring for him, you named him mr. adzuki because of the colour of his fur, which suo finds incredibly funny to this day. → suo disappeared after recovering, never making his true identity known. however, out of gratitude toward you and the priestesses for allowing him refuge, he decided to act as the guardian spirit of the village, protecting it until the end of your life. → conveniently, this meant that suo got to eat all the offerings given to inari's messengers at your shrine, as well as allowing him to gain power from the prayers directed toward him. (inari himself seemed not to mind, as no actual fox messengers showed up to throw hands with suo.)
image: gashadokuro, a youkai made from the skulls of humans who died in battle.
→ although your village was peaceful throughout your childhood due to suo's protection, in your adult years, a violent conflict between humans and demons broke out in your mountain range. this resulted in the destruction of nearly all its towns and the brutal deaths of your fellow villagers. suo, not at full power, was unable to stop this, but made it his goal to save you from the carnage. → after allowing you time to grieve your loved ones, suo—still considering himself indebted to you—asked what you would like to do next. he offered you wealth, status, and other material things, but none of these appealed to you. → recognising that the mountains you grew up in would be plagued by malevolent spirits and demons for centuries after all the bloodshed that just occurred, you asked suo to teach you jujutsu. your goal was to exorcise all the vengeful spirits, exterminate the demons, and purify the mountain range so that its villages could peacefully rebuild. → given your lack of innate spiritual abilities, suo suggested that you make a pact with him and become a kitsune-mochi to acquire powers. not wanting to deceive you, however, he fully explained how dangerous it might be to enter such a relationship, and warned you not to trust fox youkai like himself.
→ nevertheless, you accepted his offer and became a witch.
image: sakura irl
meeting sakura & nirei
→ you and suo thus embark on this crazy mission to purify the entire mountain range. while you are more than capable of exorcisms and exterminations, your spiritual abilities (one of a youkai) do not allow you to purify the land. → but that's okay, because nirei and sakura have been traversing these same mountains to exorcise and hunt demons! being an onmyouji, nirei can perform all kinds of purification rituals. when you inevitably run into the two of them, and suo suggests that you all work together. → nirei is more than happy to help you purify the mountain range (because he is a good-hearted person, and also because he usually gets assignments there anyway). he improves his jujutsu under suo's tutelage, and he gets insights on kitsune that he'd otherwise never learn (it's rare for an onmyouji to meet a kitsune-mochi unless it's to prosecute them for some kind of crime, and it's just plain hard to meet and talk with a nine-tailed fox spirit). → sakura is a harder sell. he doesn't trust suo at all at the start, and he trusts him even less when he finds out that he's a kitsune and has been lying egregiously to him. (sakura and nirei spent an entire month thinking that suo was a traveling tea merchant from china and being fed severe misinformation about the entire country.) → however, sakura is very curious about you, because you're the first human he's ever met who has a mutual and trusting relationship with a demon, which he didn't think was possible beyond weirdos like nirei. → you also aren't afraid of him at all even after seeing his nekomata form, which gives him complicated feelings. he reasons that this is because you've fought too many demons to be afraid of any of them, but the actual truth is just that you find suo incredibly scary, and sakura feels harmless and adorable in comparison </3 → sakura deeply enjoys the act of helping the mountain towns and being accepted by their communities, though he's very shy about admitting it! eventually, he does "resign" to joining you in a long-term arrangement, and the four of you take on the endless mission of exorcising and cleansing the mountain range together. it's a very "monster of the week" type of set-up hehe
→ although the work of purifying the mountain range will likely take the rest of your life (and probably will require generations after you), suo often asks you what you would like to do after the work is complete—so that he can think of ways to grant your request. → you decide not to tell him this, but your wish would be to return to your old village grounds and rebuild the shrine that you grew up in. rather than just inari, you would also dedicate it to the worship of the one-eyed fox spirit that once protected your village.
#MY GOD THIS WAS SO LONG#youkai au tag#yueshuo.fics#edit: nvm i have decided to withdraw it from tags </3
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no stopping a man in love | alhaitham
In which the traveler and Paimon catches Alhaitham indulging in something unexpected.
A/N: I might as well make this whole blog dedicated to Alhaitham because man's got my heart in a chokehold :(
Divider by @/osqrie
The House of Daena was filled with the sounds of pages turned over and the quick footsteps of the students flitting from one bookcase to another. Furrowed eyebrows and downturned lips decorated each of their faces. The librarian seemed stressed out to navigate the flurry of students and assist them in finding books. Even a stranger could tell the obvious; examination season was right around the corner.
Alhaitham, the ex-Acting Grand Sage and current Scribe of the Akademiya, had his eyes glued onto his surroundings. Though his expression remained neutral, he couldn't deny the feeling of annoyance building up inside him. The library was way too noisy to be called one. It was a good thing that he was enjoying his read so far. Though, the choice of reading fiction was something that not a lot of people would expect from him.
Yes, he had a book titled "The Genius Falls in Love!" nestled in his hands.
He didn't really catch the eye of anyone. After all, it wasn't weird that the Scribe would spend his day in the library instead of his office. His work hours were long but he never really complied to them. That was something that the students were mighty jealous of. What they didn't know, however, was that his work was always submitted on time with the highest quality. A trait that most of them could only hope to achieve.
Alhaitham put on his noise-cancelling earphones. His eyes relaxed slightly as he could focus better on the book in his hand. He was already on chapter 22. An impressive amount of reading, given that he only received the book that morning.
His body rested fully onto the chair he sat on. He closed his eyes, remembering the sweet smile his wife gave him as she handed him the book.
'Here, honey!' she exclaimed, shoving a book into his hands. 'If you miss me at work, read this book I wrote! And tell me how it went, yeah?'
From the moment he stepped out of their shared house, he flipped the book open. 'Ridiculous,' he thought to himself. 'I always miss you when you're not by my side.'
And so off he went. He finished all the work he deemed urgent enough on that day, before immediately going back to reading. It was quite the comical sight, really. The stoic genius reading a fictional book? A romance, at that? Impossible. Utterly ridiculous.
And yet, here he was.
The work day passed by so quickly when he spent it reading. Before he knew it, the librarian came over to his spot and told him that the library was closing. Alhaitham immediately got up and left to go home.
--
The walk back was quiet and peaceful enough. The mere sight of his wife's face as she greeted him at the door was enough to make a smile appear on his face, no matter how slight.
"Honey! How was work today? What did you eat during lunch? Did you have time to read my book?" It was expected that his wife would bombard him with questions the moment he came home. However, she was special in every way. For instance, he would always answer each question she had calmly, no matter how frequent or stupid they may be.
"I'm back. Work was completed like usual today. I ate the lunch you prepared for me, and I'm halfway through your book, my dear."
His wife giggled at the thought of her husband taking some time out of his busy day to read her work. What she didn't know was that his day was scheduled around her, and never around anything else.
Until the traveler and Paimon had some interesting news to bring to her.
--
"Traveler, look! Is Alhaitham reading...a romance?"
Paimon's voice bounced off the walls of the House of Daena. She had successfully captured the eyes of many students, causing the traveler to put their hand over their head. Perhaps to block a headache induced by her lack of realisation that they were in the library.
Paimon's hands flew over her mouth right after the words were uttered. Her eyes seemed apologetic enough, darting over to the traveler as a silent apology. The traveler merely shot her an awkward smile.
It was a good thing that Alhaitham himself did not pay them any mind. The way his ears perked up slightly showed that he indeed heard Paimon, but perhaps chose to ignore them. However, the eyes glued to his person was quite bothersome, even for someone as stoic as him.
He shut the book in his hands quite loudly, hinting his irritation at Paimon. She only gulped and shot a panicked expression at the traveler, who deadpanned at her. The both of them stood still as they heard Alhaitham's footsteps approach them. He was getting closer and closer with each thud of his footsteps.
"I would appreciate if you did not point out whatever business unrelated to you." His voice was calm, just like his expression. His eyes told a different story all together. The traveler's flying companion could only apologise repeatedly, while the traveler shot him an apologetic smile.
After a few seconds of awkward silence between the trio, the Scribe walked away from the both of them. His right hand carried the romance book he was reading quite delicately, as if it was his most precious treasure. And it truly was.
Anything related to his wife was a treasure to him, and he would never forgive himself if he failed to appreciate even the simplest things about her.
--
"...and that was it! He seemed really annoyed that the Akademiya students were looking at him curiously." Paimon ended her story to Alhaitham's wife. She merely chuckled at the tale.
"Of course he was. He dislikes people getting into his business after all."
"Are you sure he isn't acting like that because he's embarrassed about getting caught reading something so...unexpected, of him?" The traveler furrowed their eyebrows as their companion asked such question with no hesitation. She really needed to learn to read the room sometimes.
Before she could answer, Alhaitham embraced his wife from behind. His eyes were calm, as if having his wife in his arms was all it took to make him feel tranquil.
"Do you really think I'd be reading such book in public if I were to be 'embarrassed' about it? Moreover, how could my lovely wife ever make me feel embarrassed?"
That was more than enough of an answer for the traveler and Paimon. They smiled sweetly at the response. The smiles were short lived, however, as Alhaitham sent them both out of his house, wanting to be alone with his wife.
Ah, well. There's no stopping a man in love, is there?
Thank you for reading! <3
#female reader#alhaitham#al haitham#alhaitham x reader#al haitham x reader#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#berry writes
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Hiya! Can i pls request Right Now with Ushijima? Thank you ❤❤
Now playing... Right Now
word count; 866 – gn!reader, for my 1D x Haikyu event
Ushijima wasn’t sure what made him so restless. Maybe it was because every task he did after coming back from work was halved. He made dinner for one, evening tea for one, and watched whatever he wanted on TV without any input from you. Everything he should be doing with you, he did by himself.
Playing in the Polish league was amazing volleyball-wise. The players were good and generally taller, presenting him and his team with new challenges and advantages. Training and playing was fun. He was also able to catch a few trips to visit Tendo, which he hadn’t been able to do as often before. Now he wasn’t that far away! But nothing could make up for the fact that you were now as far away from him as Tendo used to be. Unfortunately, your job requires you to stay in Japan.
Every night he felt it. Longed for the light snore he had come to associate with home. He felt it every time he was at his new apartment, and even more whenever something particularly new happened, something he would have to get used to or figure out. That’s when he needed his other half.
And right now, as he lay in bed after a long day of struggling with the language barrier and trying a new dish that didn’t quite work out, he wished you were there with him.
Rolling over and accepting that sleep wouldn’t greet him yet, he picked up his phone. He blinked a couple of times to get used to the brightness from the screen, switching the setting so it was more bearable before finally looking at the latest message notification. If he felt any drowsiness before, it was whisked away when he saw it was a message from you.
Call me when you wake up, my love. I have exciting news!
Wakatoshi checked the time back home in Japan before calling you immediately. It rang four times before he finally heard your voice. “Toshi! I didn’t think you’d be awake.”
“I couldn’t sleep. What is the exciting news, dearest?”
You giggled on the other end of the line, and the sound quality switched, so he assumed you had put him on speaker while multitasking. He smiled at the ceiling as he listened, closing his eyes and imagining himself there with you. “You know that company I sent you an article about? The one that’s completely home-office based,” you asked him, and he could sense an impatient excitement in your voice.
He hummed in confirmation. “I do. They seem to manage it very well so far, from what I read. It’s interesting, but I’m wondering how much they save on an office if they’re paying for part of the home-office expenses like they said they do.”
“I agree, but that does mean they get to pick and choose the best workers from all over the world!” you said, wiggling your eyebrows as if hinting at something, only to realise he couldn’t even see you.
“There must be a very large number of applications, I’m sure. I can not understand how they have the capacity to go through all of them,” he answered, seeming to get engaged in the topic, which was one of the traits you loved most about Wakatoshi. He always paid attention to the things you brought up.
“I suppose, but there might not be that many if you consider that people are not sure if it’s a reliable workplace yet,” you suggested. The discussion almost made you forget what you needed to tell him, but luckily he was there to get you back on track.
“You are very right. But are the exciting news related to this company? I did not know you were so invested in their growth.”
“Well, I certainly am now. They want me to work for them!” you squealed, and he could just imagine how you would dance around the kitchen.
His lips parted, and he stared into the nothingness of the dark roof as he registered what you said, and then slowly also realised what it might mean. “Congratulations. I did not know you applied.”
“I know, it felt like such a hopeless attempt that I didn’t want to talk about it. But I got through to the last interview and they really liked me,” you told him. Your happiness practically radiated through the phone.
“Of course they did, and they’re lucky to have you,” he said, and you were thrilled on the other end of the line when you heard his soft chuckle, undeniable proof of his joy. “Does this mean…” He dipped his tongue between his lips to wet them as a smile stretched out. “You could move here with me?”
Your steps echoed in the kitchen as you stomped your feet in excitement. “Yes! We can look at that tomorrow if you’d like. I miss you so much, Toshi.”
And Ushijima squeezed the duvet in the hand that wasn’t holding his phone as this immense relief overtook him.
Right now, he wishes you were there with him.
And soon, you will be.
“I miss you too, so much. I can’t wait to have you with me again.”
masterlist
#haikyu#haikyuu#haikyu x reader#hq x reader#haikyuu x reader#fanfiction#hq#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x you#haikyu fluff#ushijima wakatoshi#ushijima x reader#haikyuu ushijima#hq ushijima#ushijima fluff#ushiwaka#wakatoshi x reader#haikyuu wakatoshi#hq wakatoshi#ushijima wakatoshi x reader#ushijima wakatoshi x you#ushijima wakatoshi fluff
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Hii! Could you do a mizu w reader where one is injured (doesn't really matter which one haha) and it's like a hurt/ comfort?
Take your time and get some rest!!
Write this when I was on the verge of falling asleep, so if any of it sounds like it was coming out of my ass, it was. 🦦
‘Why did you do it?’ Mizu asked, choosing not to look at you but instead focus on your injuried chest with a hard glare.
‘Do what? Protect you from that smiley coward who was about to use unethical means to completely blindside you?’ You replied as though the answer wasn’t already glaringly obvious, you honestly didn’t understand why you had to explain your reasonings as for protecting Mizu and putting your life at risk, but if it meant showing them that someone did give a shit about whether they’d live or die; then you’d happily be that person for Mizu.
‘You had no need to protect me, I could’ve-‘
‘Easily defend yourself, I know Mizu.’ You interrupted them before grabbing ahold of their hand, memorising the feeling of callousness to memory, as you rubbed your thumb against the back of their hand reassuringly. ‘I know how strong and powerful and amazing you are. I’ve witnessed your fighting spirit first hand and it took my breath away. Literally because when we first met you knocked the wind out of my lungs with the butt of your sword, all because you thought I was some stranger about to attack you.’ You finished recounting the tale of how you first encountered Mizu with a small smile. Why? Maybe it was your way to direct their mind to a more happier and healthier memory, rather then have it stuck heavily focusing on the one where they had their back exposed to the enemy; the reason you now had a massive gash running across your chest. A gash that would surly become a permanent part of your body but also a painful reminder to Mizu.
A reminder that you could’ve been easily taken away from them.
A reminder that you’d always selflessly put them before yourself, even if that meant getting hurt, maimed, loosing a limb or worse yet; your life.
A reminder that they’ll have to get stronger if they wish to prevent you from doing so in the nearby future. Mizu knew that their revenge took presidency over everything else, even their own health, but they don’t want you to ruin yourself beyond recognition for them; It just didn’t feel right to Mizu to have you be the barrier between them and the ill intentions of other people. They were strong enough to deal with it but as it’s been made clear countless times before, you didn’t give two shits about that, and instead focused all your time and effort into showing them that they matter so much to you; Which is an admirable and respectable trait to have in Mizu’s eyes.
However that did little to quell the unease they felt upon witnessing your body drop at their feet in what felt like slow motion, just as the first sighting of blood that began to pool beneath you in such quick succession, that at one point Mizu genuinely thought they were too late to save you, this was proven especially more true when you didn’t awaken within the first couple of days after Mizu had stitched and then later covered your wound; all in due to the amount of blood you had already lost. So the feeling of being able to properly breathe again upon seeing you wake up made the uneasy feeling that little bit more bearable for Mizu.
‘While it’s appreciated to know that I can fully count on you to have my back in the heat of battle, it is not a necessity.’ Mizu states, bring the conversation back to where it was needed most, causing you to frown. ‘I should’ve known better than to think that he would honour me with a fair fight. I should’ve known that he’d play dirty the moment he realised the odds were stacked against him.’ Mizu adds, clenching their fists into the seams of their clothing, jaw clenched and their eyes become an unforgiving steel blue; all signs of their underlying rage toward themself and the cowardly man.
‘You didn’t know and that’s perfectly fine.’ You grunt as you slowly sat yourself up with Mizu’s hands supporting your endeavour whilst being mindful as to not reopen your wound. ‘It’s normal to not foresee things before they happen, otherwise it wouldn’t be considered an authentic human experience.’ You let out a little chuckle, all the while Mizu was left to sit there and narrow their brows at what you could’ve possibly thought was so humorous. ‘And to live an authentic human experience is to accept that you have limitations, especially during the moments where you wished you didn’t have any at all.’ You said as you looked into Mizu’s eyes hoping that your words were somewhat getting through to them.
‘We always question ourselves on how we didn’t see it coming, or how we didn’t see the signs but what we’re not taking into account is that we’re human. Not super powered beings of mythical origins nor gods but just plain old humans. We don’t get the luxuries that they do, however if there’s one thing we can pride ourselves in having, it’s how we take these moments to heart and learn from them going forwards.’ You smiled softly, seeing the sea of emotions within Mizu’s eyes. ‘Another thing we can pride ourselves on is our resilience and our willpower to continue paving the way forward. We get hurt but we always get back up because that’s the indomitable human spirit. That’s what we do.’
‘Where are you getting with this and what does it have to do with me allowing you in getting hurt?’ Mizu asked, curious and a little restless as to what this was all meant to mean. ‘The moral of this for you to not beat yourself up over being human for being human is all we’ll ever know how to be until our final breath.’ You explained, lifting their clenched hand within yours to press a kiss to the back of it, before placing it back onto their lap. ‘Instead of focusing on what has already come to pas, how about bringing your attention to the fact that I’m still here and I’m still breathing. Yeah?’ Mizu stayed quiet for a while, allowing for your words to sit with them as Mizu thought long and hard before finally reaching to a conclusion.
‘Only on the pretences that I get to teach you in the basics of defence.’ Mizu said. ‘As a precaution.’ They add.
‘As long as you don’t go hard on me.’ You chuckled, already visualising it.
Mizu gave you an almost missable smirk. ‘No promises.’
#mizu imagines#Mizu imagine#mizu x reader#mizu x you#blue eye samurai#blue eye samurai x reader#blue eye samurai imagine#blue eye samurai imagines#blue eye samurai x you
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How will the Yorks react to my plan to host a bachelorette challenge?
Deanna - Potential bachelorette Joey - Deanna's aromantic yet allosexual older brother Artemisia - Deanna's younger sister, has the evil trait Devin - 2 time Starlight Accolade winner for her acting career and Deanna's older sister Luna - Devin's wife, Deanna's sister in law Aaron - Deanna's pa (father) Calista - Deanna's ma (mother) Alfred & Rilian Villareal - Deanna's nephews
Joey: I assume you all know why I have gathered you here this evening
Artemisia: You contracted a WTD
Joey: What? No, we don't have the mods
Aaron: Look if you got someone pregnant we don't need all these theatrics
Devin: Excuse me pa? We always need theatrics
Joey: I didn't get anyone pregnant. This isn't about me, it's about Deanna
Deanna: Very funny
Joey: The watcher and I have decided you should star in a bachelorette challenge
Luna: Oh I love watching those! They're so romantic
Devin: Oh can I host? Please let me host!
Aaron: Cara your sister hasn't said yes to it
Joey: Let me give you my pitch. Tartosa is a perfect background for love. We invite a dozen or so ladies to come and get to know you Deanna, really know you. I think it could be a happily ever after for you
Deanna: I have university Joey
Devin: You have time between terms right? Oh please say yes De, my friend Norah would love to come help direct
Deanna: Aren't these things normally rather straight coded
Joey: In some dimensions, yes. But we live in a great world where homophobia is next to non existent
Devin: Except for Luna's dad, but he's not here now so its fine
Alfred & Rilian: RIP Jacques
Luna: *laughing* Wait- When did they learn to do that?
Artemisia: Ahhhh, Joey was talking
Joey: The point is we, the watcher and I, are bound to be able to find some women or non binary individuals who fit your tastes De. And we can get some family based challenges for them to compete in for extra time with you. Or get other celebrities or local businesses to feature
Calista: Oh we should ask the owners of Postres de Alegría! Maybe then I'll actually be able to get some of their pastries when I show up
Aaron: Tesoro you know if you want the raspberry tart you have to get there before midday. They can't not sell just because you might feel like a treat after your shift
Joey: If not Bob could help out, or he might know some people in Brindleton Bay who have niche interests we could use for a challenge or two
Aaron: I don't know that I like the idea of one of my bambina's pixel parts being on TV
Deanna: Yeah I second that opinion
Joey: We won't actually show any nudity, relax. Now Devin you can be host but I will obviously need to talk to any other watchers. Our watcher thinks it would be fun if they had some input about what skills their contestants would work on. If they don't she'll still need to know like orientations and official stuff
Luna: *sighs* Now you believe in multiple watchers?
Aaron: Joey has just always been rather devout
Deanna: I guess I am single...
Joey: You are
Deanna: And I'm definitely over Paris
Joey: Yes
Deanna: Reece will have to be allowed to do something or he'll pout
Joey: I can sort something. So, will you do it?
Deanna: Sure. I mean who doesn't want true love right?
I'm going to do it *internal screaming*! I'm going to start working on an intro post and some graphics so people know what the submissions need. Submissions will be open until Christmas but I'll push it out a week if needed. Ideally I would love to have households of six at a time, so I'll put slots up in groups of six as people show interest. I don't want to start off with 12 or 18 etc slots if I'll only get four sims. I'm realising a lot of my planning will need to know how many sims there are so I'll be opening up soon to help my brain.
Introductions, hosted by Devin, won't begin until mid January when most people are back from New Years holidays. So yeah, I was actually so nervous writing this all out, I need to calm down. Here's some basic Deanna info I'll put elsewhere to get the cogs in brains turning. This third child of an Italian family is studying physics with hopes of being an engineer but her main aspiration in life is Mansion Baron. She's a lesbian but I checked in game and sims with that orientation are able to flirt/form romantic attachments to non-binary people as well as cis or trans females.
#help I'm actually super nervous#Which is good because do something every day that scares you right#I hope at least six people will submit sims#The cat has come to sit on me to tell me to calm down#Also might push back the start if Hayley isn't finished#Because her Lilac BC is great#And has sheep
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Thoughts on Different Types of Representation in Doctor Who (and how fandom responds to it)
So I watched Rogue last night and - okay first, oh my days, absolutely ADORED it, this is definitely my favourite episode of this season, it was just so much FUN and it hooked me right from the start. And then the queerness! I was actually thinking to myself whilst watching it how wonderful it was because it felt like a queer story in a way that wasn't like, showboating about how progressive it was? [editorial aside: this is not comparing it to anything in particular, just a general observation]. The characters were just queer, within this wild and wonderful sci-fi story, but also their queerness wasn't the Only Character Trait they had and their story didn't resolve around their queerness, but their queerness was crucial to the plot in a way that was just lovely to see - and as a writer myself, it's personally the way I love to see our stories being told.
But then I made the mistake of going into the tag - always a foolish thing to do, because for some reason everyone loves to praise this era by criticising the previous era (as if it hasn't been criticised enough...like we know most of y'all hate Chris Chibnall for committing no worse crimes than Moffat and RTD before him...we know). And I found a couple of folks talking about how this episode alone did more for queer representation than the entirety of thirteen's era, whiiiiich at first really Peeved Me Off - like didn't these people understand how important Yaz's arc (especially Eve of the Daleks) was to a LOT of people? But then I was like 'well actually this is interesting', right? Because I think there's two very different kinds of representation going on here - and they're both very important in different ways, but one tends to get lauded as brilliant rep and one always gets put down as not good enough, or even bad rep. And what's the main difference? Whether the characters have a gay kiss or not.
So I just thought I'd share some of my thoughts and feelings on this, and why I think both these kinds of rep are equally important! To be clear from the get-go though - this is definitely not me ragging on anyone who likes more about one than the other (in fact, I think everyone likes one more than the other). This is merely a personal essay about it and the frustrations that comes when people in general do lift one up over the other. I'm gonna put it under the cut though, because it might get a bit long!
So, back when Eve of the Daleks aired, I remember having a lot of conversations about the representation in that episode - in particular with a very good friend of mine, who is a lesbian. And we realised that when it came to rep, we both actually wanted pretty different things. I'm aroace and genderfluid, and so a lot of what I saw in how thirteen was written - especially in terms of her gender (or lack thereof), and also her apparent lack of attraction (at least, in how I read it) was just incredibly affirming to me. I've never EVER seen a character on screen that I could see myself in both in terms of sexuality and gender. Whereas my friend saw things quite differently - thirteen was a lesbian, and they wanted to see that kiss between these two characters, because for them too, it was so rare to see that, and, in their words, they wanted to have their cake and eat it too. And we both realised that the reason that queer representation can feel so intense and important is, simply, because there isn't enough of it. We're all desperately reaching for the same small portion - and none of it is ever going to please everyone, or resonate with everyone. The stakes are too high.
So then, when there wasn't this dramatic romantic ending to Yaz's story, when there was no queer kiss, I was very sad for my friend, who didn't get that representation, but so painfully relieved for myself - because I got mine. So then it sucked a lot to see a lot of people getting really angry that this wasn't queer representation, that this was even homophobic - I even had someone tell me that aromantic representation in this regard was always going to be homophobic, because no-one would ever write it to be aro rep, and would instead only ever write it to avoid writing a gay kiss. And the thing that got me the most was that, REGARDLESS of whether they kissed or not, regardless of how you read either of the characters, there was one thing that was certain:
Yaz was queer. In text. Her emotional plotline centred around her realising that she was attracted to the Doctor (who was presenting as a woman - although, again, I don't think she really identified as such). The fact that she and the Doctor didn't get together by the end does not erase that fact.
They didn't kiss - but so what? Are queer people only queer when they're kissing someone of the same gender, or having gay sex? Are queer people not queer in their day to day lives, when they're not doing any of those things? Are queer people not queer when they're not dating? Are queer people not queer when they're trans, when they're ace, when they're aro, when their queerness doesn't resolve around attraction to the same gender?
And, to be honest, I think a lot of my feelings around this stem from the sort of exclusionist rhetoric that we saw a LOT of towards the ace/aro community back in 2012 that we still see now, that we're seeing towards the trans community now, that we're still seeing towards bi people, for pete's sake. It's this in-community infighting, pushing each other down to try and get up to the top, to keep all the "resources" for "the people who really need it", and it causes a serious amount of harm - but the truth is (and to bring this back to doctor who) that it all comes back to what me and my friend were discussing. We're all scared, all desperate to be seen - and when we are seen, it's the most incredible experience and the idea of losing that (or having someone else undermine it) feels inexpressibly awful. Having the thirteenth doctor...I suddenly realised this is what all the straight cis white dudes get all the time. She was like me, and that was indescribable. And then losing her - and having RTD not even be able to have a man wear her clothes because he was too worried about what the tabloids would say to be able to show a gnc person on tv...and then constantly described her as The Woman Doctor for the next entire episode - that hurt. A lot.
I've spoken to other friends who felt so seen in the character of Yaz - those people who realised they were queer later in life, those who fall in love with people and it doesn't end up going anywhere, those who don't get the whirlwind queer romances that people often call 'good representation'. Myself and many of my aspec friends have felt so seen in thirteen's almost entirely romance-less arc, and myself and my trans/genderqueer friends felt very seen in the way that thirteen's character would have been exactly the same if she'd been a man - the only difference was how the other characters around her interacted with her. Gender was something that happened to her. And when I watch episodes like Rogue, even though I don't relate to that representation, I just feel overwhelmed with joy because I know how important it will be to others that I care about. I think my sadness then comes from the fact that the way Thirteen and Yaz were written are just as important to me and many people that I know, but because they didn't kiss, it's not considered queer enough. Am I not queer enough, then? Are my friends not queer enough?
We need more episodes like Rogue, like The Parting of Ways, like Praxeus, like The Doctor Falls, because they are unquestionably and unapologetically queer, in a way that can't be avoided. We also need more episodes like Eve of the Daleks, like The Haunting of the Villa Diodati, like the rest of thirteen's era where the representation is an undercurrent throughout the whole story - but also undeniable, in a way that Yaz's story arc is, even if it doesn't end in a kiss, even if it doesn't end neatly and happily. Personally, I definitely would love to see more stories focused on aromanticism and on transness (especially ones that are written by trans people for trans people, rather than by cis people for cis people), but that's probably going to be down to people like me and other writers that I know actually getting into the script writing industry - and that depends on the people who are already there letting us in. One thing that I've always appreciated about Chibnall is that, after leaving Doctor Who, he began a programme for training up new showrunners with ITV, because: "showrunners are the gatekeepers and too many of the gatekeepers look like me."
Anyway, I probably have more thoughts that I've forgotten, but that's generally the gist of it. I think the more we fight over whether rep is 'good' or 'bad', relating to whether we see ourselves in it or not (rather than 'is this genuinely harmful or unhelpful', which I think is a more crucial question) the more the waters get muddied. We have different needs and wants, and no single episode is going to represent every facet of our community. But each episode, each story like this is a step in the right direction - and even rep that isn't perfect (I have thoughts about The Star Beast, for example) is still extremely positive and important, and definitely something that should be celebrated, even as we keep looking to the future for what we would like to see done differently, done better. And some day, I hope, there'll be so much queer rep, it'll be so normal, that those stakes won't feel so high anymore. It won't feel like everything hangs on how a certain show or storyline or episode is written. We'll all be seen. And that will be absolutely fantastic.
#taka rambles#doctor who#fifteenth doctor#doctor who spoilers#dw rogue#ncuti gatwa#the doctor#fifteen#lgbt+#queer#so to be clear BOTH KINDS OF REP ARE IMPORTANT BOTH ARE GOOD#WE NEED BOTH#and some people will like one more than the other#the issue I have is when people act like one kind is lesser#anyway!!#really REALLY loved this episode#i also have a lot of thoughts about like...queer characters being mentioned in the background?#I think that's cool and important but it's frustrating when that's the only rep we get#half formed characters in the background who get mentioned once#i think fundamentally that the aro/ace/trans/genderqueer crowd (sweeping generalisation incoming)#need different things to the wlw/mlm crowd#which is not a bad thing until people start acting like one is more important than the other#they're both important!#and in fact there are people who fall into both categories so SKSKS
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Rainbow in the Sky
Relationship: Ominis Gaunt x f!MC
Summary: What happens when blind Ominis learns that his best friend MC is a synesthete who associates certain traits of personality to all the colours he can't see? Synaesthesia = Perceptual phenomenon in which stimulation of one sensory pathway leads to involuntary experiences in a second sensory pathway.
Word Count: ~6.1k
Author's Note: Hi! It's been a while since I last posted, but college exams took up all my time. Anyways, I'm back with my first Ominis one shot, so I hope I did good enough for all the Gauntlets out there🤞 This one is for all my fellow synesthetes💕Enjoy!🌈
"Wake up, sleepyhead. Class is over."
"Mmh?"
MC's eyelids fluttered open as a hand gently nudged her awake. Still a bit groggy, she slowly realised that she had unintentionally dozed off during History of Magic. But most importantly, she noticed that she had inadvertently fell asleep on Ominis. A tidal wave of embarrassment washed over her, making her brusquely straighten up.
"Oh, Ominis, I'm so sorry, I didn't realise–"
The blond boy put his hand up to stop her, and smiled softly, "Don’t apologise. It's fine. That's what Professor Binns does to people."
MC tried to forget how much of a fool she had made of herself by gathering her belongings. Ominis did the same, then followed her out of the classroom.
As they began to walk together through the corridors teeming with students, the palpable awkwardness remained between them. The silence was thick, and neither knew quite how to break it. However, Ominis was rapidly becoming frustrated by the tension, and decided to inject some humour into the situation.
"You...uh, sleep really peacefully… like a serene Puffskein." He attempted to lighten the mood with a compliment, albeit clumsily. "Pardon me, I'm not trying to compare you to an animal... I just wanted to say that you were cute– Not that you’re not always cute, of course!"
Instead of easing the tension, his words hung in the air, unintentionally adding another layer of discomfort to their stroll through the corridors. MC mustered a polite smile, forgetting that he was unable to see it, as she was too busy worrying about whether the wand in his hand, with its tip pulsing with red light, could relay the fact that her heart had soared after hearing that he thought she was cute.
Screaming with joy on the inside, but trying hard to remain calm of the outside, MC desperately wished for a change in conversation, "Sebastian must've spent his free period at the library, like the bookworm he is. How about we go fetch him and head to lunch?"
MC thought Ominis would be happy to put an end to this moment of embarrassing torture, but against all expectations, his face contorted into an expression she had never seen on him before. He replied with one short, quick word, "Sure."
Without adding another word, they arrived at Central Hall a few minutes later, right when their mutual friend was coming out of the library and already taking long strides in their direction.
"Synaesthesia!" He shouted out of the blue as soon as he got in front of them.
"Bless you." Ominis joked, although his bitter tone was still present.
"Ugh, no!" Sebastian rolled his eyes at him before turning to his other friend. "MC, remember when you told me that you saw numbers as a certain colour, or that you gave personalities to colours?"
"You can do that?" Ominis questioned, quirking an eyebrow dubiously.
MC remained oddly silent, and turned as white as a sheet. It was Sebastian who answered for her, "Yes, she does. She never told you?"
"No…"
"Oh well, now you know." The brown-haired boy shrugged. " Anyway, I did some research at the library because I was curious and wanted to know why you had that. It took me hours to find a book about it, but I finally did. A Muggle did some research on it not long ago. He couldn't explain where it came from, but he did give it a name – synaesthesia – which is when someone perceives a sensation in addition to the one normally perceived.... So MC, you're a synesthete! It's exceptional!"
Sebastian's enthusiasm, conveyed in his loud tone, attracted the attention of curious ears around them. But as incredible as Sebastian considered this discovery to be, it was not the same for everyone else. It was just one more singularity, one more abnormality in the girl, making her once again the black sheep of Hogwarts.
"Synesthete? Wasn't being the Hero of Hogwarts enough for her? She just had to find something else to prove she was better than everyone else, didn’t she?" Leander Prewett scathed, thinking he was being quiet when in fact he was as discreet as a bull in a china shop. He scoffed. "What a stupid cow."
Next to him, Cressida Blume – Hogwarts's biggest faultfinder – nodded eagerly, “She’s such an attention-seeker.”
MC knew she should not allow herself to be affected by such stupid and immature words, but it was extremely complicated to do so when the people she was closest to could also hear these negative remarks, which could possibly have a bad influence on the way they viewed her. She looked away and bit the inside of her cheek, trying to think of something else.
Sebastian, notoriously impulsive by nature, recognised her expression immediately, which made his blood boil. He approached Leander at a slow but terrifyingly determined pace, until he towered over him, which made Cressida, who had a yellow streak, take several steps backwards
"The whole school already knows you've only got two brain cells left, Prewett, and yet you still open your mouth to prove you're still as daft as ever."
The redhead frowned as he looked up at him, "You tryin' to pick a fight with me, Sallow?"
"’Course I do! It's good that you still manage to notice the obvious. Even if it takes you a lot longer than what's considered normal. Perhaps you've lost another brain cell?" Sebastian smirked derisively.
Quickly tiring of being taken for a fool, the Gryffindor reached into his robe pocket to pull out his wand... but Sebastian saw right through him.
Seeing red at the idea of Leander having the ridiculous audacity to think that he would be able to defeat the best duellist of Hogwarts, the Slytherin drew faster than Leander, right before the redhead could complete his incantation.
Sebastian cast spell after spell with such an astonishing speed that his opponent was unable to evade the incoming magical onslaught. His wand danced through the air, sending various spells that formed a whole colour palette. He began with a simple Levioso to neutralise him, followed by a Flipendo to humiliate him in front of the spectators who had clumped together to watch the spectacle, and finally a Depulso to finish him off in style.
A powerful impact propelled Leander backward, and with a resounding thud, he collided face first with the solid stone wall, before falling limply back to the equally hard ground.
Preventing Sebastian from savouring his victory, Professor Weasley's horrified gasp resounded, "Mr. Sallow! What on earth possessed you to attack another student for no reason? Such savagery will not be tolerated! One hour of detention with me. Right now."
"But he insulted-" Sebastian tried to defend himself.
However, Professor Weasley cut him off sharply, "Two hours."
"But he started it! Why should I be the one to waste my time in detention?"
"You've wasted your time attacking a fellow student. Surely you can waste your precious time in detention too, can't you? Now, will it be three hours, or will you follow me in silence?"
Sebastian let out an irritated exhale through his nose before turning his gaze to MC. Without saying a word, the intensity in his pupils was enough to convey his message. 'If that's what it takes to defend you, I'd do it again.' Still, MC sent him a rueful yet thankful smile, and watched him follow Professor Weasley.
"Oh, Miss Blume." The Deputy Headmistress stopped momentarily in her tracks and turned around. "Take Mr. Prewett to the hospital wing, please."
Cressida rushed at Leander's side and helped him to his feet. His black and blue face was now displayed for everyone to see. He held on tightly to his housemate as he seemed on the verge of blacking out. But before they could disappear to the Hospital Wing, Ominis approached them, guided by his sentient wand.
"Prewett." Ominis spat his name as if it was an insult. When he no longer heard footsteps, he knew he had his attention. "If I hear or even get wind of you speaking ill of MC one more time, I won't hesitate to ask Black to have you expelled. You know how good friends he is with my father."
Ominis could not see his reaction, but his silence and the heavy tension growing between them was a satisfying enough response.
"That goes for you too, Blume." The Slytherin added, just to make sure he had made himself clear.
Ominis only heard Cressida make a short 'humph' of displeasure before the sound of their footsteps against the stone faded away. He subsequently turned back to his friend.
"MC?"
No response. He could not even sense her with his wand anymore.
"MC!" Ominis called out again, just in case she was still in the vicinity, but just far enough away to be imperceptible to his wand.
Still no response. She had run away.
"Fuck."
Obviously, she had not gone to the Great Hall to get lunch without him (Ominis knew her too well to think about that even for a fraction of second). No, he knew that she would want to hide after being the centre of unwanted attention, and he could only think of one place where she could have taken refuge... The Undercroft was his destination.
Trusting his instincts, he navigated the familiar twists and turns of the castle. He approached the secluded clock in the Dark Arts Tower, and opened the secret passageway with a simple flick of his wand. Once the gate to the Undercroft was raised, Ominis entered, the echo of his footsteps reverberating against the walls, making the boy doubt whether his friend was truly here. Nevertheless, the secret room did not remain silent for long, for MC made her presence known on her own.
"Here to make fun of me, aren't you? Another one of your snarky comments?" She asked, her voice coated with bitter sarcasm.
The jest failed to elicit a laugh from Ominis, who replied most solemnly, "I would never dare. Not with you."
"Good. Because you should know that if you did, I'd hex your arse until you joined Prewett in the hospital wing."
"I am perfectly aware of that." He smiled tenderly, approaching the direction from which her voice came.
"Good." She repeated. Once he had stopped in front of her, she pulled him by the wrist to sit on the floor next to her, their backs against the wall. Once he was settled, she released his hand.
Displeased at the loss of contact, Ominis felt the need to make himself interesting again, "Speaking of Prewett, I want you to know that I wanted to do something before Sebastian, but... you know how brash he is."
"I know."
"However... I talked to Prewett – well, more like threatened him actually – but point is, he'll never bother you again."
"Thank you, Ominis." She replied, and he could hear the genuine gratitude in her voice.
But something was not quite right because, if usually the way she pronounced his name with such warmth and how it rolled perfectly off her tongue did wonders to make him feel better... at this moment it was not enough.
“...You could have talked about your synaesthesia with me as well, you know? I could have been just as good of a listener as Sebastian.” He declared without thinking, hurt taking over his facial features.
“I know, you would. Even better than him, without a doubt.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
There was a moment of silence before he heard admit, “I was scared you’d think I’m stark raving mad, and–”
“I find it fascinating." He swiftly cut her off, not wanting to give her the time to depreciate herself any further. "How you give personalities to things that people don't even look at twice, I've never seen that level of creativity before. It just shows how deeply caring and thoughtful you are. You have a heart of gold, and the most kind and beautiful soul I have ever come across."
MC had tears in her eyes just from hearing him speak. Never before had such beautiful words been spoken to her, "Do you really mean that?"
"Every single word." Ominis insisted. "You have a unique talent. Do not let people's jealousy drag you down."
“It’s not a very useful talent though…” She mumbled.
“Allow me to disagree.” His falling intonation made it clear that his sentence was finished. Yet MC knew him well enough to recognise his expression when he had something to add, but did not dare.
“Go on.” She encouraged him.
MC’s soft words were the spur the young man needed to reveal what he had in the back of his mind, "Well, I always hear people talk about colours, or read about them in books, but I can't see what they look like, so...” He paused for a moment, either shy about his request, or afraid of refusal. “Perhaps you could help me understand what they feel like?"
“Oh, Ominis…” She cooed upon seeing the pastel shade creeping up his high cheekbones. She instinctively put a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to make him at ease again. “Of course, I’ll try my best. What colour do you want to know about first?”
“Let’s start with your favourite colour. Pink.” He declared without even having to think about it.
MC felt her own cheeks becoming beet red in turn. It was the way he remembered that insignificant detail they had rarely talked about. But it was also the way he had uttered the name of her favourite colour with confidence, without the slightest ounce of hesitation. He was always so attentive, and it made her feel all giddy. In fact, he always made her feel that way with the slightest show of affection, so it was nothing new, and yet it still remained exhilarating.
Unfortunately, as thrilled as he made her feel, he made her just as nervous, and she often ended up stammering (which she was sure ruined any chance she had of ever being able to charm him), “Uhm well… P-Pink is really sweet and kind, even if she’s quite naive. She's someone who looks at life through... well, rose-tinted glasses. She sees the good in everything and everyone, and is often lost in a daydream. Dreams mostly of love, while her cheeks turn pink to match her name.”
MC waited patiently for Ominis to respond in whatever kind of way, rather than remain agonisingly silent, with his eyes piercing right through her soul even though they could not see. She needed to know what he thought of her. If he understood her, or if he judged her. If he thought she was weird, or even worse, terrifying for thinking that way. She just desperately needed him to say the slightest word.
What she did not know, however, was that Ominis was remaining obediently silent because he was waiting for MC to continue with her explanations, which he found captivating.
“Am I detailing things enough? Does it help you?" MC decided to ask in a small voice to end the nerve-wracking silence.
Ominis offered her a soothing smile, "It does. You're doing a brilliant job."
"Brilliant...” She repeated awkwardly. “What colour do you want to hear about next?"
"Sebastian once told me the colour of the Slytherin house was green. What does it represent to you?"
“Pure joy. As soon as you see Green arrive, you're instantly relieved, because you know happiness is back. A bit like when grass reappears after a long winter when snow covered all nature and deprived it of its colours. But don’t get me wrong, Green isn't at all extroverted and attention-seeking. No, Green’s the kind of quiet, everlasting delight that makes for true happiness.”
Ominis took his time to process MC's explanation, before frowning, "Don’t people usually say that yellow is the colour of happiness?"
“Mhm, you’re right. They do. Usually because it’s the colour of the sun and a lot of flowers. But I think it's a hypocritical colour. She's always glowing, so brightly that all you can see is her, as if she wants to show off her happiness to everyone. But it's impossible to be that happy all the time! People like that are always hiding something.” The further MC went into her description, the more her calm tone disappeared and became louder.
Ominis listened intently to her, nodding along words, “Duly noted. I'll be wary of Yellow.”
“As you should.”
Even while being blind, Ominis knew by the tone of her voice that she was adorably pouting with her arms crossed in front of her chest. Witnessing how riled up she could get over colours, it made him inevitably chuckle, "All these colours, they really are like true people to you, aren't they?"
“They are. My brain has created all these characters for as long as I can remember. I’ve lived my whole life with them, so I can’t help but take this at heart…” She confessed, somewhat insecurely. “Is it weird?”
“Not at all. To be entirely truthful… I think it’s endearing, and makes me want to know how that beautiful mind of yours works even more. I only wish I could know you down to the smallest detail.”
MC could not understand how Ominis managed to say such sincere words out loud without the slightest difficulty. He admitted them to her as easily as if he were reciting the recipe for a potion, even when they were face to face. She wished she had even a quarter of his charisma... perhaps then she would have the courage to confess how she really felt.
She looked down, nervously tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, "So, uhm... let's continue, shall we? How about red?"
"I'm listening." He replied softly, smiling as if to give her confidence.
MC cleared her throat, “Red is really powerful, and so everything they feel is powerful. It’s always something like anger, or passion. They’re hot-blooded, but that’s why they feel warm and pleasant. But! You should be careful, because they can burn you if you come too close to them.”
"Sounds like a dangerous colour then." Ominis remarked.
"They can be. But if they like you, then you can trust them with your life. It's a really loyal colour, just like Blue. Blue is–"
“Oh, I know that one!” Ominis exclaimed proudly, now sitting more upright. “Blue is the colour that represents sadness. That’s why people say they’re blue when they’re sad, isn’t it?”
“Yes, you’re right…” MC paused hesitantly. He seemed so happy to finally know something about colours, that it broke her heart to have to tell him that she had a different kind of perception. “But… just like for Yellow, I don’t see things the same way as everyone else.”
Ominis's face fell a little. He had tried to impress MC by showing her that he was not completely ignorant, but he had failed miserably. Nevertheless, he forced himself to keep a slight smile on his lips to mask his disappointment, “How do you see it then?”
“Well, in my mind, Blue is the very definition of serenity and comfort. He's always perfectly calm and peaceful. He always knows just the right words to say. You'll never find anyone more trustworthy than him. You look up to him as you would look up to the sky.”
"Blue sounds majestic, I like him. I think it’s my favourite colour so far.” Ominis declared, making MC grin as she was delighted to be able to convey some emotions to him through her explanations. “Do you have any colour associated to sadness, then?"
“Purple. She’s always sad, because she looks like Blue and Red died and melted together to make her, so she can only mourn them. I wish there was a way to cheer her up, but it’s impossible. That’s how things are, unfortunately. She’s the representation of perpetual heartbreak.”
"And wouldn’t another colour be able to help her? Like Orange maybe?" Ominis suggested, now fully immersed in his friend's imaginary world.
MC could not hold back her scoff, "Oh, Merlin, no. Orange is so arrogant and big-headed! He thinks very highly of himself. He believes he's better than everyone else, because he's not a colour you often see in nature. So when he's around, he stands out so much from the crowd, that he's the only thing you can see.”
“So by that logic, someone who wears orange is a person who wants to draw attention to themselves?” He questioned, tilting his head slightly to the side out of curiosity.
“I guess you can say that.”
After concluding, MC recited the rainbow in her head, to make sure she had not forgotten any of the colours. Realising that she had presented them all to Ominis, she smiled in satisfaction.
"Well, I think that's it. We've talked about all the colours!" She announced cheerfully and clapped her hands together, just about to stand up.
"Wait!" Ominis held out his hand to stop her from leaving.
He put his hand where he thought her shoulder was, but his aim was too low. His fingertips brushed against her, running up her arm, and even through the layers of her uniform, it sent electric sparks all over her skin, resulting in her heart skipping a beat.
Blissfully oblivious to what he was making MC feel, Ominis continued, “I also read about brown. What does it feel like?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot about that one.” She hurried to answer, lest he think that she wanted to wrap up their conversation quickly. “Technically, brown's not a colour that's part of the rainbow. But anyway, it's a really basic colour that you cand find anywhere around you. Sure, he’s common, but he never disappoints you. He’s in harmony with everything. I reckon he’s the type of person that seems calm on the outside, but who has so many exciting – even chaotic – things going on in his mind. I associate brown to Sebastian a lot.”
Ominis jerked his hand away from MC's shoulder and recoiled from her, as if he'd received an electric shock. His jaw tightened and his eyebrows furrowed, creating a shadow over his misty opal eyes. They had always been full of light, giving them the ability to soothe MC, but seeing them at that exact moment, the girl could do nothing but wonder what she had said or done wrong to render them so dark.
(Un)Fortunately, Ominis was quick to give her some guidance on the subject with his next line, "So Sebastian gets a colour? What about me? Am I not good enough to have one?"
Piqued by the poison that was intoxicating his intonation, MC did not let it faze her, "Quite the opposite, actually. You're too important to only have one."
"Whatever does that mean?"
“It means that whenever I think about you, I feel red... like…" She flirted with the edge of the precipice, but her voice cracked and failed her before she could fully launch herself.
Even though he could hear the distress in her voice, MC was infinitely grateful at this moment that he could not see her cheeks as red as a poppy, as well as her eyes which were starting to fill with tears because her nerves were starting to fray.
Sensing that she was struggling, Ominis immediately abandoned his cold, distant attitude. Instead, he decided to reach out to her again, but this time he rested his hand on her knee, "It's okay. Take your time."
This simple gesture was enough to give MC the strength to continue what she wanted to tell him. She took a deep breath before crossing the point of no return, this time with determination, and seized the golden opportunity to reveal her true colours.
“I feel red like my ardent feelings for you and the way they overpower me whenever I'm around you. Or like my jealousy when I see you close to other girls. I also feel orange, because I’m pretentious enough to believe that I'm the right person for you, that we belong together. Yellow is hypocrite, just like I am when I pretend to be content with us simply being friends. I'm overcome with green every time I see you coming towards me with your beautiful smile. I see blue when I look into your eyes. They’re the most magnificent and reassuring place on Earth. They remind me that you’re the most trustworthy person I’ll ever meet. I trust you with my life, because I know you’d never do anything to hurt me. I feel purple when I remind myself that you might never return all the love I have for you. And lastly... I feel terribly pink right now, because I'm naive enough to think that my confession won’t ruin our friendship, and make you run away from me."
Ominis never really found himself at a loss for words, it happened once in a blue moon. He had always had a knack for finding the right comment at the right time. MC had said so herself earlier. But now, after hearing his best friend make the most beautiful and honest of declarations of love – and rest assured he had heard a good handful of them in his life with all the pureblood girls trying to charm him in the hope of joining the overrated Gaunt family – Ominis was simply rendered speechless. And a few seconds later, he also found himself breathless when he heard MC's melodious giggle echoing between the stone walls.
The girl was laughing for a whole list of reasons. Firstly, because the situation seemed so surreal. When she woke up this morning, she never thought she would end up pouring her heart out to Ominis. It was such a thrilling yet white-knuckle experience.
The second reason was how lighter she felt now that everything was off her chest, and out in the open. She could no longer understand why she had decided to carry such a heavy weight in secret for so long.
Lastly, it was impossible for MC to remain impassive in front of Ominis's hilariously adorable expression of frustration. With his defined arched eyebrows raised, and his remarkable eyes as wide as they could possibly be. Then there was the red tinge that had taken hold of his pale skin and even his ears. Not to mention his mouth agape, ready to utter the words that were stuck in his throat, while his bottom lip quivered, only making MC want to suck on it and graze it between her teeth.
"You're the rainbow in the sky of my life, Ominis!" She added with a radiant joy in her voice that was as obvious as the sincerity and beauty of her words. The warmth of her intonation was such that it could warm the cold, dark room that was the Undercroft. It was a sound that made Ominis's heart beat faster, and yet made all the tension in his muscles vanish. Never in his life had he heard anything or anyone as soothing and angelic as MC.
He took a moment to think about what he was going to say next, searching for the right words to express what he was feeling, and when he found them, he expressed them without the slightest tremor in his voice, “You’re right. You’re truly naive, because this is going to inevitably devastate our friendship.”
MC gasped out of fright but Ominis did not let her get a word in edgeways before he was finished.
“However, you were wrong about the second part. It did nothing to make me want to run away from you. Quite the opposite, in fact. It gave me the courage to finally act on my innermost desires, and get closer to you, like I've always wanted.”
Now that he said it, MC realised how he had scooted closer to her unnoticed, until their sides were leaning against each other, making their knees brush, and their hands touch. Using his little finger to caress the back of MC's hand and test the waters, Ominis fully grasped his beloved's hand and intertwined their fingers together when he realised that she was not reluctant to his touch.
Thrilled by his gesture, MC looked up at his beautiful face that she now could see up close thanks to their intimate proximity. She could not help but be mesmerized by the intricate details of his features, starting with the numerous beauty spots that adorned his pale skin and caught the light in such a way that it was impossible for her not to trace their contours with her eyes. She was fascinated by the realisation that, over the many years of their friendship, she had memorised the location of each of these moles, like familiar landmarks on a map she treasured. One small cluster as black as coal was just below his cheekbone, as well as on his jaw, highlighting its sharpness.
As she continued her silent inspection, MC's fingers began to twitch with the urge to gently trace the paths between those beauty spots, resulting in her squeezing Ominis's hand instead. She wanted to map them with her touch in the same way she had done with her eyes. Especially the isolated one next to his left eye. It stood out from the rest and added a touch of charm to his gaze, drawing attention to his unique and expressive eyes, with their irises that were a mixture of azure and creamy rays, giving them a welcoming depth in which MC wanted to drown. His eyes could not see her, and yet they looked at her with such warmth and admiration, echoing the emotions he concealed so well. Every nuance of his expression spoke volumes, revealing a vulnerability that only exacerbated her own feelings. MC could feel her heart beating faster, a gentle reminder of the unspoken connection they shared.
Still sensing the way she was admiring him as if he were the incarnation of Apollo himself, Ominis brought their entwined hands to his lips, and placed a tender, lingering kiss on her knuckles, “I've loved you since fifth year, and I've fallen for you more and more with each passing day, but..."
"But what?" She breathed, her voice barely louder than a murmur. She feared that her curiosity would put an end to their moment of complicity.
"...But I always thought you fancied Sebastian.”
“Sebastian is dear to me. But like a brother. He has been the confidant of all my admiration for you.”
With that revelation, Ominis's face drew nearer, until she could feel the warmth of his breath, a tantalizing whisper against her skin. The air seemed to thicken with anticipation, making MC close her eyes in an attempt to calm her rapid heartbeat. She soon realised it was all in vain, for the scent of the boy she cherished immediately overcame her senses and excited her even more.
Ominis's perfume wafted through the air, enveloping MC in its amalgam of cedar and bergamot aromas, a blend of sophistication and warmth. She allowed herself to briefly savour the fragrance, before opening her eyes again.
But, in the blink of an eye (literally), the moment shifted. Ominis, perhaps aware of the charged atmosphere, had leant in even closer. MC's gaze flickered to his lips, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. The unspoken tension lingering between them reached its zenith, and the uncharted territory of what could be hung in the air. A fleeting thought suddenly crossed MC's mind – was this the red-letter day where he would bridge the gap between friendship and something more?
And sure enough...
“Can I kiss you?” He asked in a soft, sensual voice. He was only a couple of inches from her now.
MC was tickled pink, “You don’t need to ask. I’m all yours.”
Ominis raised his hand to where he thought MC's head was and, sensing his hesitation, the girl guided him to her cheek. This small gesture gave him the final green light to do whatever he wanted with her. Once his palm made contact with her skin, he searched for her lips with his thumb, and when he found them, he traced their contours with as much delicacy as if he were touching the petals of a fragile flower, reflecting all the esteem and care he had for her.
Ominis smiled at the softness of her lips before deciding, at last, to feel them with his own. He kissed her in a slow and tender dance. He took his time to appreciate all the sensations that were new to him, appreciate his first kiss with the witch of his dreams. Each lick and suck were a deliberate exploration as if he aimed to imprint every subtlety and nuances about her into his brain – from her sugary taste of remnants of Chocolate Frogs, to the shape of her full and plump lips, by way of her hypnotic floral fragrance.
When she had explained all these colours to him, he had managed to imagine them, but now... Now, he understood them.
Red for the intensity of his passion for her. Orange because he wanted her to only have eyes for him. Yellow for his hypocrisy when he played the act of the gentleman who wanted nothing more than a chaste kiss. Green for... well, how could he be anything but unmeasurably happy in this instant? Blue because, just like it was his favourite colour, she was his favourite person. He always wanted to be with her, just to feel like he was somewhere he belonged. Purple when he thought of the possibility of this magical moment being nothing more than a dream, a wicked trick of his imagination. And yet pink, because he hoped he was living a dream come true, and would get to keep her by his side forever.
When he felt himself starting to lose control over his actions, when his urges threatened to take over his chivalry, he immediately pulled away. This was one of the rare occasions where Ominis was grateful to be blind. Because if he was able to see her tantalising lips, he just knew that he would be doomed. He would never be able to spend even a second of his life without kissing them.
His hand which was still cupping her cheek, started caressing her smooth skin, "Not only do you make me feel all these colours, MC, but you're also the first person to make me experience them as well."
Sure, Ominis's confession was lovely and went straight to her heart... but MC could not take her mind off the primal urge to kiss devour Ominis that coursed through her veins. And so, instead of responding with words, she chose to convey her love with a different language, a more physical one.
She threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck, causing him to topple backwards, resulting in MC lying on top of him on the floor. Without waiting, she smashed her lips back on his – which, let's face it, was far more meaningful and accurate than any words she could have come up with.
She clutched his wrists to place them on her waist and hips, like an enthusiastic invitation to explore the new curves of her body, which Ominis accepted gladly, starting to trace her contours and memorise them. Whereupon, one of her own hands wandered up and down his chest, trying to feel as much of her lover as she could through the textile barrier that was his white shirt. Meanwhile, her other hand snaked around his neck until it reached the top of his nape. She tangled her fingers in his golden hair, pulling it lightly by the roots, earning a needy whimper from Ominis that was muffled by their fiery kiss.
Time seemed to suspend as they entirely immersed themselves in the experience, as if etching every fibre of the other into their memory. The way they pulled each other closer, the way they wanted desired and desperately needed each other...
They were so engrossed in each other's electric touch that they did not hear the rattle of the wrought-iron gate being opened. They only snapped out of their own little bubble when they heard Sebastian's whistling as he caught them red-handed, followed by his quippy voice exclaiming, “Took you guys long enough!”
#hogwarts legacy#ominis gaunt#ominis x mc#ominis gaunt x mc#ominis gaunt x reader#ominis gaunt fanfiction#ominis gaunt fluff#sebastian sallow#hogwarts legacy fanfic#fanfic
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One of a Kind Booty (Peter Parker x M!Reader)
Pairing: Power bottom Peter Parker (TASM) x Top Cis Male Reader Rating: Explicit Words: 2225 POV: Second Summary: You’ve been staring at Peter Parker’s ass a lot. One night you catch sight of Spiderman’s ass and suddenly you know something about Peter Parker that most people do not. Aka reader finds out Peter Parker is Spiderman based on his ass. Note: Don’t forget to reblog and/or leave a comment in the tags/replies to help me stay motivated to write, thank you Tags: pervert!reader, teaching assistant Peter, wee bit of comedy, mentioned OC Chaz the jock, blowjob, handjob, ass-eating/anilingus, reverse cowgirl, creampie and mild ass worship
There was something about being a teacher that made one bend over a table, ass out, while explaining something. This trait apparently extended to teaching assistants and you knew exactly who was the biggest idiot in your class. You always sat behind Chaz, the nicest jock you knew, but who also retained a negative amount of information from lectures. How he got this far was one of Earth’s greatest mysteries.
Some days you felt bad for him, but during the study sessions, you loved his big dumb brain. The second it started, his hand was up in the air and the cute teaching assistant surely trudged over. Just one year older than you and yet Peter Parker looked younger with his boyish looks and nerdy tees. He bent over in front of you and you tried to not make it too obvious you were staring. The things you’d like to do to that booty were not fit for a classroom, unless this was a tacky fanfic where the mechanics of the real world did not matter.
Exams were coming up, so you found yourself staring less at Peter’s ass and more being the one asking the questions. One late night, you found yourself lounged on the rooftop of your apartment building. Your phone with your notes app lit up your face as you sipped on a drink. Whenever you needed to think, your eyes drifted up over the screen to look at the breathtaking city night view. Studying sucked, but this view always made it better.
Your peace and quiet got disturbed by a red figure landing on the other side of the rooftop. You hid behind the staircase building as soon as you could. You were no rookie to the dangers of the night, but as you peeked around the corner, you let go of the breath you’ve been holding. It was just Spiderman.
He didn’t seem to notice you as you stared at him from behind him, watching how he crouched down and used your apartment building as a little perch. There was something familiar about him. Your heart lurched when he got off the ledge. For a second you thought he spotted you, but then he started stretching. Arms up to the sky, you could see his shoulder muscles through his suit. Arms to the front, to the back. Then he bent forward, hugging his legs with straight knees and you knew exactly why he looked so familiar. You have been staring at that ass all semester.
Your mouth fell open as you tried to process this new revelation and contemplated what you were going to do with it. Right now, there was little you could do with this information. Before you could even emerge from your hiding spot, Spiderman already leaped from your rooftop to fight crime or whatever Spiderman did on a quiet night.
It was the last study session before the final exam and you should be focusing on straightening out the purpose of each equation, but you were staring holes in Peter’s everything. You knew with 99.99% certainty that he had a crime-fighting alter ego, but it was that 0.01% that was keeping you from confronting him about it directly.
Before you realised it, class was over and you were bound to either spend a couple of all-nighters or fail the exam. You packed your bag with utmost leisure, attempting to be the last one left with Peter, who was saying his goodbyes to the professor. The old woman left and it was just you and Spiderman.
“You do know that I know what you’ve been up to, right?” Your head shot up and you frowned at the teaching assistant. That was your line. Peter gave you a lopsided smile as he sauntered over to you. “Don’t look so innocent, I know you’re not.” Peter sat down on the table in front of you.
You slowly zipped your backpack up with a frown on your face, eyes never leaving those of the other man. “Are you seriously making a move on me the second you’re no longer a teaching assistant of a course I am taking?” You scoffed. Peter got a little rosey in the cheeks, but he did shrug like he had no regrets. Your teeth showed with how wide your smile got. “Such a morally good man,” you said as you slowly got closer to Peter, “not only does he have a no-fucking-the-students policy,” you leaned on the table he sat on so your faces were real close, “he also runs around in a tight red suit stopping crime.”
Your last words wiped the smile off Peter’s face. He tried to stammer out he had no idea what you were talking about, but he either was bad at lying or just too distracted by you. You ran a hand up his arm, trying to gauge if he was into it or not. “How did you know?” He eventually whispered.
You snickered as you grabbed his shoulder and pulled him closer so you could whisper in his ear. “Spiderman was on my rooftop a few nights ago and bent over. We both know I’ve had my eyes on the prize all semester.”
Peter bursted out in laughter. “Are you serious right now? You figured it out by staring at my ass?” You gave him an innocent shrug, clearly very unapologetic about the situation. “Wow… Just wow… You are really shameless, you know that?” You held up your hands, palms to the sky beside your shoulders.
“What can I say, Mr Parker? Your ass is phenomenal.” “Would you like to see what I can do with it?”
And it was not even ten minutes later that you found yourself in Peter’s tiny dorm room, pressed against the wall as he kissed the life out of you. His leg was between yours and you felt almost pathetic with how needily you grinded against him. “Never thought you’d be this… assertive,” you gasped when Peter finally let you breathe, his lips occupied with your neck.
“Don’t like it?” The other man asked as he guided your hands to his ass, humming when you squeezed his exquisite cushions. You were drunk on him. A semester of pining had you tangled in a web of desire and Peter was about to thoroughly unravel you.
When you did not answer right away, Peter pulled away to check on you, his eyes questioning and hands politely stilling. “I just did not expect you to be like this, but by all means, go ahead.” You flashed him a smile, which he returned in kind. Without breaking eye contact, he got to his knees and started undoing your pants. You watched him with bated breath.
You were not surprised that you were already supporting a semi nor that Peter started lapping at your cock like it was a treat. By now you already knew that behind those innocent eyes hid a true minx. Wet pleasure glided over your cock. You could not tear your eyes away from him. Once he had you fully hard, he started trying to take your whole length into his mouth. There was no warning, no lead up to the immense pleasure that was Peter eagerly slobbering all over your dick. A moan escaped you, before you could even think of biting your lips to hold it back. “In a hurry?” You questioned between moans.
Peter did not answer. Instead he grabbed two handfuls of your thighs and pushed you forward, forcing your whole cock down his throat. His tongue was out and teasing your balls. You threw your head back, finally diverting your eyes off him, but as soon as you did that glorious mouth was off you. You gasped, catching your breath. The world seemed to morph around you and all points gravitated towards the centre of it all: Peter Parker, on his knees with spit covering his chin and a sly smile on him as he stroked your cock.
He was on his knees and yet he had you wrapped around his finger. Peter tapped the tip of your cock against his tongue. He gave you teasing licks, the touch barely anything compared to earlier. Out of nowhere, he got up, kissed you deeply with his spit-covered lips and then stepped away. “Get on the bed and edge. I’ll be right back.” He waved in the direction of his bed, before disappearing into the bathroom.
You were stunned for a moment, until you heard the shower run. You shook your head and made your way over to the bed. You made yourself comfortable and followed the command that was given to you. You could only imagine what else was going to happen and the fantasies helped you stay on edge until Peter’s return.
When the bathroom door opened, Peter emerged, damp and naked. Your hand stilled as you ate him up with your eyes. Under all those nerdy shirts he apparently had been hiding a set of abs you wanted to lick all over. He was smooth, build out of perfect lines and arches. “Keep going,” Peter commanded as he approached like a predator. You swallowed the lump in your throat and continued stroking your sensitive cock.
Peter climbed over you and you opened your mouth, ready to receive his cock in your mouth, but it never happened. Instead, Peter shoved his ass in your face, hands parting his cheeks so you had access to his hole. Shortly after, you had both hands on his cheeks, while tonguing his hole. You were mesmerised by his scent, heady with the pleasure you got from him enjoying your ministrations. You could trace the outer muscles with the tip of your tongue, then press your tongue flat against his opening. He was relaxed enough that you could even slide inside and get a taste of where your cock was soon going to be.
You did not know how long you were eating his ass, but the end of it only neared when Peter started lubing up your cock. It started with the slow drag of his hand just to spread the liquid around, but soon enough he was edging you, while firmly planting his ass in your face, effectively preventing you from begging.
Your cock was twitching constantly by the time Peter raised his ass up. You saw him scoot forward until he could rub your cock between his cheeks. A string of pleas flowed out of your mouth like beer when you pour it for the first time in your life. You tried to touch his hips and move him onto your cock, but Peter slapped your hands away at the faintest touch. “Patience,” he reprimanded you. You groaned, but Peter was merciful or perhaps just as desperate as you. He slid down on you, reverse cowgirl style, ever so slowly. You did not know what was more maddening, the snail pace or the incredible tightness that swallowed up more and more of your cock. Peter didn’t dilly dally. As soon as he could go faster, he would be riding you faster, giving you the breathtaking sight of his ass bouncing on you. Each time it hit your skin, you could see the impact ripple through. When you reached out again, Peter allowed you to touch him and help him ride you. It was embarrassing how soon you felt your orgasm approaching. You tried to lift Peter off you to catch a break, but Peter held your hands down now, riding you like his life depended on it. “What? So soon? I knew you liked my ass, but aren’t you embarrassed?” He taunted you.
You couldn’t form the words, your mouth wide open in a silent scream as he drove you mad. Your silence was broken by a moan just as your seed started spilling out. Peter basically sat down, letting you cum deep inside him as he grinded his ass against you. It was almost too much. Your breath was ragged and hurried while Peter lifted himself off you to sit at the edge of the bed. “Holy shit,” you exclaimed after a few deep breaths, before crawling over to the other man to kiss him. It was less desperate now, but still full of tongue and desire.
“You better have at least another round in you,” Peter murmured against your lips. You smiled and ran a hand down his body to his cock, lips never leaving his. Peter gasped into your mouth as you kissed him deep, while jerking him off. You had barely gotten to speed up your movements, before Peter pushed you away with incredible strength that you would not have expected from him, before you knew about his big secret.
“Get up,” he instructed you, before dragging you in front of the foot of the bed. He scooted back and in an incredible display of flexibility, Peter pulled his legs behind his head. “Now I don’t care if you cum or not, but that cock is not gonna stop fucking me until I got my own cum in my mouth, got it?” You let out a light chuckle, bending down to kiss him again. With your lips still dancing together, you pushed the head of your cock back into Peter’s ass.
“Got it, boss.”
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REBLOG TO KEEP THE CONTENT COMING
#tasm#tasm peter parker#peter parker#peter parker x reader#peter parker x male reader#male reader#andrew garfield#marvel#mcu#peter parker x you#peter parker imagine#andrew garfield x reader#andrew garfield x male reader#marvel x reader#marvel x male reader#marvel x you
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how would the ros react to a super self sacrificial mc? like putting themselves in all harms ways just for the sake of someone else
S: With exasperation. They curate plans carefully, always ensuring you are in the most advantageous position for your skillset. Your penchant for self-sacrifice is going to get you killed one day; that terrifies them.
Once everyone has caught their breath after a particularly close call, S pulls you to one side, sweat dripping from their brow. "MC, are you aware I constructed this plan the way I did for a reason? I understand your desire to protect others; believe me, I do. But we play to our strengths, so, in the end, no sacrifice is necessary."
"Trust the plan. Trust me. Trust that I have already conceived of every possible outcome and have placed you exactly where you need to be."
Rain: It never gets easier. They see the impulse within you, the moment when your eyes blow wide before taking the plunge. It's instinctive for you; they understand that. You don't realise what you do to them whenever your instincts take over. You don't see it.
You don't see how their nails dig into the palms of their hands or how their breath catches in their throat. Nor do you realise the flashbacks that play vividly in their mind, plummeting back to their childhood. They couldn't bear to lose it all again, and to lose you would be to lose everything.
Once the fear has quelled, Rain brings it up to you in a moment of quiet. "You are kind, MC, but I wish you were kinder to yourself. There are people around you willing to help carry the load. Lean on us a little more. Lean on me."
Taj: They might not necessarily like it, but they respect it. It takes great courage and selflessness to put yourself in harm's way for the sake of others. Taj believes these traits have become scarce amongst humankind, so to see them demonstrated so boldly in front of them... Well, it offers some food for thought.
Still, Taj has their limit. If it's happening too often, and it's a pattern they get used to, don't be surprised if you find Taj jumping into the fray first. "Oh, fuck; had you meant to throw yourself onto the table like some sacrificial lamb once again, Koel? Tough shit. We're a team, now."
N: N thinks it's ridiculous. Most of the time, you don't even know the people you so thoughtlessly throw your life into danger for. How are they more important in your eyes? How is that fair? And what exactly do you expect them to do if something happens to you? How selfish.
The next time they recognise your willingness to jump into the fray, they reach out to snatch you from the grasp of danger. "Don't. Allow me," they scold, taking your place as they effortlessly weave the situation into their favour. Once the threat has passed, and you are both panting from the exertion, they turn to you. It's clear they are not pleased; the seething smile on their face tells you everything.
"My dear, if you insist on testing the limits of your fragility, would you at least warn me beforehand? So, I can, at the very least, tell you exactly how thoughtless I believe you are."
Umbra: Umbra has always admired your kindness. Sometimes, it's rough around the edges, and sometimes, it is as sharp as your tongue, but it is always sincere. It is what Umbra has always aspired to be. However, once they realise your strong inclination towards self-sacrifice, they realise they still have a long way to go because they realise where you want to protect innocent life; they only desire to protect you.
It scares them how angry they feel when you run into danger for the sake of a stranger. The anger isn't yours. It isn't directed at you. Oh, no, they never could. It's for them—for every person too weak, for every person incapable of saving themselves and expecting you to step out of the darkness to do it for them.
With shaky hands, they reach out to grasp your sleeve, their eyes avoiding yours. "MC... Please, please... I am right here. Do you not see me? You do not need to put yourself in danger. Use me."
(Sometimes, I begin writing these, and they completely run away from me. Hopefully, this is okay, haha.)
#ask answer#taj#nazu raumon#simon selby#umbra knight#naera raumon#rain#simone selby#interactive fiction
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Aziraphale and autism representation: episode 1
So, I was rewatching Good Omens recently, and I wanted to come back on how Aziraphale is represented as autistic in the show. I especially want to focus on the positive representation here, what makes me happy about it and how I see myself (and other autistic people can see themselves as well) in it. I'm probably going to go way too much into small details here, and end up analysing every scene where he is present (but to be fair, an autistic person is always autistic, whatever they are doing even if it's not always visible). And yeah, I'm probably going to be projecting a tiny bit here.
So, let's start with the first episode here, and especially, let's start at the beginning:
When we first see Aziraphale it is at the moment he meets Crowley and the conversation starts like this:
Crowley: That went down like a lead balloon Aziraphale: Yeah. *Laughs* Sorry what was that? Crowley: I said 'Well that went down like a lead balloon' Aziraphale: Yes, yes, it rather did.
There are two points that I find interesting here, about the way Aziraphale reacts to what Crowley says. He doesn't understand or hear the question right away, but still reacts to it before asking Crowley to repeat. One of the ways I read it is processing issues that often happen with autism. Sometimes, it simply takes time to process or to understand and information that has been given (and it has happened to me so many times, asking someone to repeat something to only realise what they have been saying when they start repeating it). Plus, here Aziraphale doesn't actually seems to realise that he has missed the information right away, it takes him a few seconds to do so. And sure, this can happen to everyone, but it happens more often with neurodivergent people, so it's a nice touch. The good thing about that as well, is the reaction of Crowley. He isn't upset, he simply repeats what he just said, and the conversation keeps going. This way of processing information is shown again later, when Crowley says 'it would be funny if we both got it wrong' and Aziraphale chuckles first (because it is objectively funny here) and only then realises the implications of it. [I'll insist here, but none of that means that Aziraphale is stupid. He is, it has been said over and over, a really intelligent being, I'll come back to it later.]
The second interesting point though is about masking. I'll come back to it later, because it's not the most interesting instance of it, but his first reaction to the question, is to pretend that he understood, to pretend that things are ok, and that he was following the conversation correctly, to not show that he didn't understand. And once again it's something that I do a lot. I miss pieces of information all of the time, because I didn't hear it properly, or wasn't focused or simply didn't understand something. And people get easily annoyed by that, plus it can be exhausting sometimes to ask to repeat all the time, so pretending to have heard something, and continuing like nothing happened is also a thing that I'll do quite often.
Now, one of the most visible things here, is the relation that Aziraphale has with eye contact. He makes eye contact with Crowley, plenty of times. But also (and this one also applies to Crowley to some extent), they spend a lot of the conversation not looking at each other.
And this is something that happens often in the show, when they are discussing, they don't always look at each other. It's more visible when Aziraphale is uncomfortable about something, or when he need time to think about something, he'll simply look away for some time, to give himself some time to rest and think properly.
Now, one of of the things I love about him, is his moral sense, and the way he cares. A common autistic trait is a strong sense of justice, but it means, most of the times, having your own sense of justice. And Aziraphale definitely has his own, that doesn't align with Heaven's one. He gives his flaming sword away to protect humanity, without hesitating a second. He doesn't want to kill anyone, not if he can avoid it. He is a strong character, and a protector and I love him for that.
Another thing about him, that can also be seen in that first scene, is that he has a tendency to overthink things. He clearly spent a lot of time worrying about the consequences of giving his sword away before talking to Crowley. While, that, by itself is not a positive trait, it is on that I love seeing in characters, because it is something that needs to be shown and discussed as well.
Now, the next scene where we see Aziraphale is the sushi scene, which shows a completely different side of him. Here, he is relaxed, and doing something he absolutely loves. I adore this part the way it shows the care he has for small things, the small ritual that he follows before eating, how it is shown that it is part of his habits/routine. It's a place he his familiar with, and that he loves. And the specific way he loves it. He takes time to do so, time to enjoy the smell, to care and love things slowly. And this is something I wish I'd let myself do more. Take the time to do things slowly, to fully appreciate them. And of course, that scene pictures the care and love for familiarity, for sameness, for small rituals, not in a boring way but in a caring and comforting way.
And then Gabriel arrives, and his expression changes, he becomes more nervous. And he stops talking freely. There is here a really nice parallel to make between autism masking and Aziraphale's relationship with Heaven. Autism masking is a way to protect yourself by trying to fit in a neurotypical society. And the way Aziraphale acts in Heaven, or in presence of Gabriel is extremely similar to that. He becomes nervous, and careful of what he is saying. Then we have this discussion
Gabriel: Why do you consume that? Aziraphale: It's sushi. It's nice. You dip it in soy sauce Aziraphale: It's what humans do.
And several things can be said about that. First, Gabriel's question wasn't really a question, more of a disguised insult here, to which Aziraphale replies as if it was a literal question from him, which does show some literal thinking. It's not the only instance of that, and a similar reaction will happen later in the discussion with Crowley about Warlock
Crowley: If there was no boy... Aziraphale: But there is a boy. He is right there.
Then, the way he talks about sushi. He is hurt that Gabriel doesn't like sushi, and he starts explaining what it is giving a tiny piece of information about it, and his face completely light up as he does. Food and especially certain type of food such as sushi are definitely one of his special interests, and it makes him really happy. He wants to talk about it, and he wants his interest to be appreciated. But then, he realises that it's not something Gabriel approves of, and hides his own feelings, stop talking about it, and try to justify it, to make his love acceptable (It's what humans do). And, ouch, this hurts. Having to mask your own interest when they are not deemed acceptable or, because you are talking 'too much' about it and it's 'not interesting' is absolutely a common experience of autism, and it is often heartbreaking.
Now, I don't really want to go into details in the relationship between Aziraphale and Heaven, because as I said I would like to focus more on the positive and on the parts that I find relatable, and also because it's a complex relationship and I'm not in Aziraphale's head, but I feel the need to say a few things about it.
Does Aziraphale have faith in Heaven? It's a bit of a complex question here. Plenty of times, he is shown talking about Heaven in what can be seen as positive (Heaven will finally triumph over Hell, we're the good guys). But he is also shown hating it, going directly against it (I don't like it anymore than you do...). He knows that the other Angels are, for most of them (not counting Muriel here), not good, and he is always careful around them. When we see him in Heaven, he has a tense face, makes small, constrained smiles, keeps masking and keeping his thoughts to himself, not trusting them. So where exactly does he stand with Heaven? I do believe that, at least in that season, he still has some faith in God, if not in any of the other angels, as he will end up praying to Her at some point, but there are other factors to take into account when analysing this relation. [Also I'm only focusing on the first season/ first episode here, I'm not going to the end of S2 at all here, which is a completely different topic]
First of all, liking the idea of something does not mean that you will like the thing as it is. To take a personal example here, I love academia. Except I don't. I love the idea of academia, the idea of public research, of being able to learn and to transmit knowledge. But academia is a shitty place. So, so much people are sexists and racists, (queerphobic as well, even if less perceived usually), and a lot of my friends have horror stories of their own about it. A lot of people are burnt-out, tired, it's a system that asks you to work relentlessly to get a chance to survive, in which a lot of people spend more time looking for money to work that actually working. Academia is absolutely awful but the idea of academia is amazing.
Then, as I mentioned it before -and this is the point that I really want to mention here- Heaven is associated to masking. And yeah, here, I know some people have mentioned that Heaven can check on him any time, meaning that he has to keep up appearances, but that's not exactly relevant to what I want to say here. Masking, when done for a long time, becomes a part of who you are, and you sometimes forget a part of who you are without it. For a long time, I used to go back home after my day and not being myself either, acting as if there was still people around me. Because, the rest of the time it's what keeps you safe. So you keep doing it without realising. Sometimes, I catch myself stimming or doing something I like when I'm alone, and I stop myself because it's not something you're supposed to be doing. Masking, when done for a long time, becomes somewhat a part of what you are, even when you are alone and safe.
And in a very similar fashion, it takes a lot of time to unlearn things. Not necessarily masking, but things that you learn from your family, you relatives, and you later realise were incorrect. I don't know how much (if to any extent) autism impacts that, but on some occasions, it had taken me years to manage to unlearn stuff (and some I still struggle with). And it's extraordinarily frustrating, both for you and for the people around you and sometimes hurtful as well. Now, Aziraphale has been with Heaven for thousand, even millions of years, it would make sense that some things stayed in his head. [Now, because I have seen that too many times, NO, he doesn't need to violently realise that Heaven is bad, he know it. In a similar way, I don't need to be let's say screamed at for masking, because it would only trigger the opposite effect. Aziraphale needs to be free from Heaven and some time to heal from it.]
Also, Aziraphale doesn't have any other option than Heaven at the moment (here in S1). Things are going to be destroyed and he will be stuck in Heaven, one way or another. So, maybe a part of it is simply him, trying to convince himself that there is good in Heaven because he doesn't have a choice.
Now, I don't want to say any of these are true, or try to analyse that relationship in more details, those are just a few points that I wanted to mention here, because they are (at least the part about masking) relevant to the rest of the discussion about autism so I'll stop there because there would be so much more to discuss and analyse, but that's not the topic of this post.
But as I was on the topic of Heaven, I'm going to do a small skip forward before going back to a linear discussion of the episode, and talk about that conversation:
I am an angel, you are a demon, we're hereditary ennemis. Get the behing me fool fiend! After you.
Now, I love this sentence, because it says a lot about his relationship with Heaven. He knows Heaven's rules, but he also knows when and when not to follow them. Of course, him and Crowley are enemies, that's how Heaven sees them. But they are also friends, that's how they constructed their own relationship. To some extend, it reminds me of the Don't Play With Liquid Nitrogen moment. [And before I go any further in my explanation, I'll emphasise on that: DO NOT PLAY WITH LIQUID NITROGEN, it doesn't matter whatever I say next, DO NOT PLAY WITH LIQUID NITROGEN GUYS].
When I was doing an internship in my second year of bachelor, one of the person I was working with started to show me and another student something, and told us that we were not supposed to play with liquid nitrogen, while himself splashing so of it around. The thing is, liquid nitrogen is dangerous, but when you know how to do it, you can touch it for a few seconds without getting burnt. And here it is a bit of a similar situation. By simply following the rules, they shouldn't interact, let alone be friends. But they've been there for long enough to properly understand the situation, and to know they can follow their own rules instead of Heaven and Hell's ones.
Now, back to the rest of the episode. After the scene with Gabriel, we next see Aziraphale in the bookshop. He is putting up his coat on the hanger, and while doing that, he is humming along with the classical music in the background. Here, he is at home, a place where he can be himself, do whatever he likes. And I love that we see him stim along with the music. We see him stim plenty of times during the show (with the music, when he eats...) and it shows that it's a part of who he is. And most importantly, it's never shown negatively or mocked, and yeah, it's just so great to see a character stimming (and I'll add: stimming in a non-cliché way. Everyone's stims are different and do not always fit the cliché representation that most people have of it) and enjoying doing so, in moments of relaxation and happiness.
And in the second part of that scene, the phone rings, and he is visibly annoyed. He likes the quiet, doesn't like been around people (even if he loves humanity and people themselves) and doesn't like unexpected things to happen. And thus, he also immediately goes to an automated script instead of starting a conversation (I'm afraid we're quite definitely closed).
Now, I'll take the opportunity to mention the bookshop itself, because I absolutely love it. To be fair, it would be one of my dream place in the world, but that's not the topic here.
The bookshop is such a comforting place. The lights are dim and it's quiet (despite the outside of it being in a crowded place, so that probably took a miracle), which makes it a dream to relax and avoid overstimulation. But also, it's a place where he stores everything related to another of his special interests: books (and also wines, and other things he loves). So books are a special interest that I share with him, so of course, it's something that I means a lot to be, but to be able to be surrounded by so much of things you love, with music you love in the background, it's simply amazing , and I'm repeating myself here, but it's absolutely a dream place to be. Plus, going back to the representation part, it's so, so important to see special interests shown as they are. Once again, not in a cliché way (and by saying that, I have absolutely nothing against special interests that can be considered more cliché (look a me right now, writing an essay on two of my current ones, autism and Good Omens)) but simply them being things that people can usually enjoy, but to a much strong extent in Aziraphale's case. And once again, it's never here to be made fun of, simply to be shared and appreciated.
Something notable as well about Aziraphale is his posture. He sits in a very straight way, that doesn't seems comfortable. Now, autistic people tend to have more the opposite problem, which is to have bad posture. But a usual one is also a notable sign as well. But also, his posture when walking is interesting.
He is holding his hands close to his body, and most of the time is stimming once more, with his hands (or perhaps with his ring as well). And this type of posture, is so, so nice to see. When I was younger, I had the tendency to hold my arms around my stomach, in a way that was a bit similar to the way Aziraphale is holding himself in the picture above. And, of course, I got scolded and criticised for it, until I stopped doing so. So seeing Aziraphale having a similar posture, and knowing the type of comfort it can bring, and how this type of contact is important, makes me really happy.
Now, I'm diverting a bit from the topic for a second here, but there is an interesting parallel to make between Aziraphale's posture, and the one of the other angels:
When we look at the angels in Heaven, they all hold their hands in front of them, but it's in a tense way trying to show authority and rigor, while for Aziraphale, it's in a more relaxed way, and the goal for him is comfort. It's similar, but it's also so different, and it creates and interesting contrast between Aziraphale and the other angels.
And when I'm talking about the posture, I'd also like to mention the vocabulary. Aziraphale's vocabulary is peculiar, old-fashioned, but it's also really precise. Now, that is not something I particularly relate to, but a lot of autistic people do tend to have a very specific and precise vocabulary to communicate their ideas in the clearest way possible, and I like that this is something we can find in Aziraphale as well.
Quickly after the discussion between Aziraphale and Crowley, they discuss going out for lunch, and mention the last time that happen, and start discussing the reign of terror, to which Aziraphale replies 'We had crepes'.
And while he does so, his face absolutely lights up. Now, I've seen people mentioning the fact that Aziraphale doesn't really show (or worst doesn't really have) emotions, but this scene is so much the opposite of that. When he is talking about something he love, he is so expressive and his love for it is so visible. And I love seeing that, seeing the love for special interests being accepted and represented in such a positive way. Now, when talking about emotions, there is a sharp contrast between this scene and the previous one, where they were discussing about Heaven where he kept his face neutral. Having a neutral face is something that is often seen as one of the characteristics of autism, but it's not fully true. First of all, it can be related to masking (and I've already discussed the relationship between Heaven and masking here) but also, it usually depends a lot on the situation, and when autistic people are talking about their interests, they can, in fact, be very expressive, as this can be seen here with Aziraphale.
Another thing that I love about that scene is how he connects the discussion to one of his interests. Now, another characteristic of autism is to see patterns between things, and for a long time, I thought this didn't quite applied to me. But it does, and usually in the way it's shown here with Aziraphale. When I have a special interest, I have a tendency to find way to connect everything to it, to make links between ordinary things and my interest, and that was a really cool thing to see here.
And now the dinner scene. I've mostly already discussed everything happening in the scene before, but I'll just say it again, because it shows that those things are constants in Aziraphale's character, and not a one time thing. First is his love for food, that we can see there once more. Then he is once more stimming after eating. And also, he is finishing eating much after Crowley already finished his meal. He takes his time, takes the time to really savour the things he loves, and I love that for him.
Another thing that I want to mention, is his gardener disguise (and much later in the show, his newspaperman disguise). It is, in both cases, so exaggerated, and shows a lot about how he comprehends the world. It's something that I can connect to the idea of learning how to be human only from what you see in shows and books, and that's something a lot of autistic people can related to. (And of course, this rarely works in real life, the same way that it seems odd in the show).
There is another interesting point to mention, and that's questions. When we think about Good Omens and questions, we directly think about Crowley, and him asking questions. But in the show, at least in that first episode, Aziraphale is the one asking a lot of questions. Especially about how precisely things will happen.
Won't people remark on the sudden appearance of a huge black dog? His parents for a start?
He needs precise information to know how things will happen and to be able to prepare for what will happen, and that, once again, is a strong autistic trait. (I could also discuss about the fact of Heaven not liking questions, and autistic people usually being criticise when asking questions to understand clearly what to do, but I think that would be going a bit too far in the analysis here.) Still, I love seeing the way he understands the world, and the way he sees the potential issues that could arise. And also, there is that scene with Crowley, that I particularly relate to.
Aziraphale: If he comes to his full powers, how will we stop him? Crowley: This won't happen. Aziraphale: *quick annoyed smile*
And this scene is important, because it shows the difference of what autistic people can expect when the ask a question, and what other people understand. Here Crowley tries to reassure him, and Aziraphale gets slightly annoyed, because it was not what he needed. This is a situation I've been here before, and when I ask this type of question (because at the same time I'm overthinking and I need to plan how I'll act and have a plan) people offer reassurance. And this is rarely helpful to handle the situation, because in that type of case, what I need is answers (or at least something like 'we'll figure it out'. Because things can go wrong, and I need to be prepared for this eventuality as well). And yeah, I really like the scene for showing that discrepancy between what is needed by autistic people, and the answer that other people usually provide.
One more of Aziraphale's special interests is magic, and it has quite an important part in the show.
As it's the case with all of the times we see special interest, we also see Aziraphale being extremely happy with it, and his face always lighting up. But this one is a bit different because he is bad at it. When he does magic, he is clumsy, and drops things and fails most of the time. And that's great, for two different reasons. First of all, clumsiness, and poor space management is often a part of autism, and it's one that is rarely shown or represented, so it's something that I like to see. But, and most importantly, it shows that you don't need to be good at something to enjoy it, and this, by itself is amazing. And it's especially great in the context of special interest, where once again, one of the clichés is that autistic people have to know everything and to excel at their interets, which can end up putting a lot of pressure on people (also as some autistic people, myself included, are extremely perfectionists). So seeing him simply enjoying it without being good at it is refreshing here, and helpful as well.
I'm now going to very quickly mention that conversation when the Hellhound doesn't arrive
Aziraphale: Wrong boy Crowley: Wrong boy
Simply because I've discussed earlier in the post about processing issues, and about how it had nothing to do about Aziraphale's intelligence. Well, here is a perfect example of it, because this time, just after learning about the situation he is able to have a good understanding of the situation, and, if that's completely obvious for us, it is much less to them.
And I'm now going to conclude with that sentence said by Aziraphale at the end of the episode: Welcome to the end times.
I don't have any specific analysis behind that one, I just happen to particularly love it and I wanted to share it once more.
And to conclude a bit more with that analysis of the first episode, I absolutely love how Aziraphale is depicted in the show. He is a strong and caring character, but also a very complex one. I find it really great that his character is able to show the good and the part parts of autism, and also, that it never turns any of it as a joke, nor goes strongly in the clichés. So, yeah, I absolutely love him.
So at first I was planning to do a similar analysis for every episode, but I had not realised how much time and energy this would cost me. I really loved doing it though, so I might continue, but I'm not making any promise here.
#good omens#aziraphale#aziraphale my beloved#I love him so much#autistic coded aziraphale#autistic aziraphale#autism#good omens meta#long post
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I wanna theorise the Ghost Gang's ages
I think it's widely accepted that the Ghost Gang are believed to be kids, or at least the same age as the Pac trio. Their exact ages are never mentioned of course, but it has never really been brought into questioning either.
It's often a point of interest when fans talk about the Pacworld Wars or the Repository - either that Betrayus was cruel enough to enrol children to fight in his army, or that Stratos/The Freedom Fighters were cruel for supposedly allowing children to be sent to the Nether.
I've thought about this a few times, also as someone who saw the Ghost Gang as teens, but recently I've looked a bit more closely at the semantics of it all, and it's led me to this one big question:
Why are we assuming that the Ghost Gang ARE children?
Don't get me wrong, we have good reasons to believe they are.
They sound young
They often display childish or immature behaviour
They're familiar enough with the Pac trio to get along in ways that teenage friends would
Pinky has a crush on Pac, so we assume that they are both at least the same age...unless Pinky is a closet cougar.
But when you think about it, these traits can sometimes carry over into adulthood and do not always indicate child-like or teenage behaviour.
I've thought more on the matter, and I've come to realise that we also have a few reasons to believe that the Ghost Gang are in fact adults, or at least young adults.
Blinky is a Pac-Fu Master. The art of Pac-Fu is considered a powerful form of martial arts, supposedly more powerful than Kung Fu, and thus would take years to master. I highly doubt that a child would be able to reach Pac-Fu Mastery before becoming an adult, unless its a child prodigy. I think its safe to assume that Blinky spent several years mastering the art in order for him to reach Master level, so it makes more sense for him to be an adult. A young adult, at the very least.
Clyde speaks 9 languages. For a person to learn new languages, they have to reach an age of proficient academic understanding and dedicate some years to be able to speak multiple languages. According to google, it takes 2-3 years to become fluent in a new language. Multiply that with Clyde's languages, and he must be at least 27 years old. A loophole to this theory would be if Clyde learned all of his new languages in the Netherworld after he became a ghost.
Perhaps a gray area, but Pinky did allude to having a very busy social life. This could mean many things; either she's a teen who just likes to socialise or she's a young adult that likes to socialise. Leaning a bit more towards the latter, it could be that she's independent/old enough to make her own choices regarding dating and maintaining her busy social life (even though she spends most of her time with the boys).
A bit of a messy point, but it doesn't make a lot of sense for the Freedom Fighters to deliberately allow children to be turned into ghosts. These guys fought for freedom against Betrayus' war and tyranny, and good people like Zac, Sunny, Sir C, Spheria, etc were all part of the side that fought against Betrayus. Compare the Freedom Fighters with Betrayus and his army, and it's more likely that the Freedom Fighters would've opposed sending children to the Nether. So how did the Ghost Gang end up bodystripped? Probably because they weren't children, but were old enough to join Betrayus' army and thus face the consequences of such a choice. This makes it all the more likely that the Ghost Gang are young adults, between the ages of 18-30.
In the real world, some countries allow citizens to become part of the army as early as the age of 16. If we apply this to Pacworld, then we can stretch the perimeters a bit and speculate that the Ghost Gang are between the ages of 16-30. It would definitely make more sense in Inky and Pinky's case, who seem to act the youngest/least mature out of the four.
The Pacworld Wars and the politics surrounding who got bodystripped, and the bodystripping/soul-extraction matter itself, is quite the can of worms. For me, knowing all that we know, it would make more sense for the Ghost Gang to be young adults. They would be within the age of enforced enrollment in Betrayus' military, and that subsequently puts them in the same category of soldiers to be bodystripped.
What do you guys think? Am I reaching too far with this theory? xD
With all that being said, here is a ROUGH estimate on how I hc the Ghost Gang's ages to be, slightly tweaked from my previous guesses:
Blinky - 23
Pinky - 16
Inky - 18
Clyde - 27
Again, this is just a theory! If the Ghost Gang are legit teens, then they're teens I guess. This is just me trying to plug in the holes in the story for why children were fighting in the war in the first place - and send to the Nether in the first place.
#pmatga#pacman and the ghostly adventures#pmatga headcanon#ghost gang#pinky#inky#blinky#clyde#inky pinky blinky clyde#betrayus
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hear me out: traits the hawthorne brothers inherited from their parents each
traits i feel the TIG characters inherited from family:
as much as grayson doesn’t want to admit it, he is like his father in many small ways. i imagine sheffield to be organised - mind and space - just like gray. their both passionate workers, devoted to people to love (needs confirmation for gray but he is smitten for lyra) and generally just the way they carry themselves. if we saw pictures of when his father was younger i think they would’ve looked practically identical.
but grayson DESPISES everything his father did to avery, the hawthorne family and the grayson girls so he tries to not show any resemblance to his dad but acacia, gigi and savannah see it.
with libby (i really wanted to include her) she is hardly like her mother at all but when libby gets mad she tries to hold it in but sometimes she just snaps and shouts. everyone was shocked because they’ve never heard her shout before ; she felt bad but everyone reassured her that it was perfectly fine.
we don’t see much of jameson’s dad but i feel like their just really competitive (i hate ian tho for how he used jameson)
when xander and isaiah get closer they realise that deep down they’re like two peas in a pod: from their love of mechanics and science, their personality and how I feel like they don’t hold grudges and just will accept anyone. i wanna see more of their relationship 😖
although we don’t see much of jake nash (spoiler kinda ‼️ ik we see more of him is games untold I just haven’t got their yet) i feel like jake is living the life pre-tig nash would’ve DREAMED about. their laidback demeanour just screams similarity to me and how his dad just lives alone, kinda away from the world and how nash wanted to run away from the money and everything.
nash spent most of his time growing up with zara as a maternal figure - not skye - so they have a strong relationship and have similar traits/interests.
the parallels between hannahtoby and averyjameson just makes me want to cry because it shows just how similar they are - toby to jameson, and hannah to ave.
they all have nan's witt and strength.
unfortunately - but kinda not? - the brothers have a mind like tobias hawthorne except thinking all that bad shit that tobias did
i've never done anything like this before, so idk how it went!!! thank you for reading 💗
#the inheritance games#avery kylie grambs#grayson hawthorne#nash hawthorne#libby grambs#jameson hawthorne#xander hawthorne#toby hawthorne#gigi grayson#savannah grayson#zara hawthorne#tobias hawthorne#games untold
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I have never publicly said this but : Jet drowning Gaipan and Zuko burning down Kyoshi Island are
1) narrative parallels
2) are widely exaggerated by the fandom as actions taking place in a 100 years war and performed by two teenagers
because yes context does matter. and you CANNOT possibly think that these actions come even close to the atrocities of what the rough rhinos did to Jet’s village or what Ozai intended to do to the Earth Kingdom.
NO THIS IS NOT ME EXCUSING WHAT THEY DID. DON’T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THIS.
all I’m saying is that context, intentions and knowing what is going on in a character’s head are actually important in that case for a better understanding of their actions.
let’s take a look at Jet. he’s an orphan boy, who grew up with this very idea that every thing that went wrong in his life was caused by the FN (which is true) and that the only way for him to survive is to fight the FN (which is, again, true). therefore, the logical conclusion to years of trauma, and impregnated ideas of vengeance and wrath is to loose touch with your sense of morality and ending up doing heinous things because he’s convinced that it is the right thing to do. the ONLY thing to do. to survive and to escape the war. what people like to forget is that Jet didn’t grow up like Sokka and Katara, who even though faced a terrible tragedy after their mother’s death, and had to live in a tribe that had been weakened by the FN, also lived in a sheltered place for most of their lives, with their Gran Gran and father’s love, with a community, a family. Jet grew up in constant solitude, hunger, pain, fear, death and had to become a parent to those around him. and that’s not me trying to compare them. but you cannot seriously think that they grew up in the same conditions. growing up like that you just CANNOT turn out fine. the absence of love and protection coming from an adult actually does that to a kid. as time passes he realises that he, as an orphan boy, has to do what has to be done in order to survive. the question of morality doesn’t even crosses his mind. because fear and anger are the only thing left for him to survive. and all of this leads to him drowning Gaipan, and committing this heinous crime. which well doesn’t really happen because everyone is safe ! everyone survived ! yes the village is destroyed but that’s material loss. that doesn’t come near the loss of actual people.
now for Zuko, his core character trait in season 1 is that he’s very short sighted. he only sees his goal, and never what’s in between that. this shortsightedness comes from years of obsession fuelled by extreme (FN) propaganda, indoctrination, trauma and anxiety in regards of what awaits Zuko if he never gets to catch the Avatar. like Jet, Zuko’s anger and fear brings what’s most ugly in him : his lack of regards for any collateral damage he might provoke while trying to reach his goal. which ultimately leads to Kyoshi Island burning down. however, they are a few things that need to be said here. he never steps a foot on Kyoshi Island with the intention of burning it. that’s actually where it diverges from Jet. Zuko is extremely short sighted and his only goal is to find Aang. nothing. else. which differentiates him from his sister especially. who wanders through the earth kingdom while yes chasing Aang but also never stopping (or at least trying) to expend the FN’s power in the EK. Kyoshi island burning down comes actually from him being shitty at managing his firebending (and his crew) in season 1. it’s quite literally collateral damage and most of the damage on Kyoshi Island actually comes from Zuko’s soldiers (who we never actually see receiving orders that would indicate Zuko wanting to burn the island. he only says “I want the Avatar” before splitting up, and go rewatch the scene if you don’t believe me). we do actually see Zuko shooting a few fireballs at Aang but we see only one of them actually hitting the cabins. so it would be logical to assume that it was Zuko’s crew, while fighting the Kyoshi Warriors that did it. after the gaang left, Katara even says “he would have destroyed the whole place” meaning it wasn’t destroyed. and then Aang eventually saves the village and Zuko and his crew leave.
what I’m trying to say with this is that I cannot keep seeing people actually demonising and adultifying Jet and Zuko’s actions (especially at the very beginning where both of them are clearly villains with the narrative intent of doing heinous things) with using these two specific scenes, where, ultimately, no one got hurt (except Sokka & Aang while fighting Jet and the Kyoshi Warriors while fighting Zuko).
this post isn’t me denying what they did. at the end of the day, Gaipan got destroyed and Kyoshi Island lost a lot of infrastructure and cabins. this post is me explaining why I’m tired of the over exaggerated claims in regards of these two characters.
the problem with this fandom is that people will talk about Jet and Zuko’s actions in episode 10 and episode 4 like they would talk about Long Feng’s actions or Ozai’s actions.
like, no, two indoctrinated traumatised teenage boys in a war cannot be held accountable in the same way that two adults (who funnily actually did kill people !) are held accountable. like, textually by LAW they cannot be held accountable in the same way. because of their age, because of the circumstances, the consequences, etc etc.
and what’s even more important is that both actually do their best to make amends. even though doing this after years of indoctrination is actually hard. jet dies while doing so and Zuko nearly dies at the hand of his father for doing so. (and that’s without even talking about his actions as a Firelord)
you can dislike Jet and Zuko as characters. but the hate these two get will always look ridiculous at the end of the day. because it’s either completely exaggerated or out of context or doesn’t apply to them because they actually did change. and did try to make amends.
again, this is not me saying that they weren’t villains at the beginning of the series. this is also not me saying that these actions are excusable or even remotely okay. no, it’s me begging the fandom to just use their brain for two fucking seconds. it’s me begging the fandom to just understand what the war and it’s consequences does to people, especially children. on all sides of the war. especially war children.
#atla#atla fandom problems#pro jet#pro zuko#atla zuko#atla jet#uuuuh kinda#Jetko#because narrative parallels !!!#anyways#I know I’ll get jumped for saying this#but it had to be said#like seriously what’s wrong with that fandom#you don’t need a phd in media literacy to understand them#(That would be giving bryle wayyyyyy too much credit)#zuko meta#jet meta#no this is also not a “jet/zuko did nothing wrong post please do not tag as such#they were both assholes#and horrible jerks in the beginning
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