#so I like to mull about these things a lot in my mind because they are core pillars to the character she is now even if it reflects in

[ittybittybumblebee]

Not trying to armchair psychology you, just speaking from personal experience- it's really, really common to have autism, especially autism that is coupled with ADHD and OCD, be misdiagnosed as BPD for young people. This is most common with verbal autistic people who also suffer from abuse as a minor. The constant mental pressure often manifests as erratic thought and behavior, "strange" patterns of belief and groupings, and just a general feeling of feeling like you are Not The Same and don't know what's wrong but that Something is Wrong. Extreme stress for all of those problems can easily be exasperated into psychosis unfortunately, so a good approach involves being able to ground yourself with knowing how your mind is different, and that it is not broken. Whatever you find out, best of luck man.

thnx means a lot that u typed this out to me anon <3 i think ur def on the right track on what i could b dealing with but at the same time there has been a point where i was quite sure i must be autistic but felt i never had or experienced the same wide or specific and unique variety of stimming/stimulation issues like most autistics do and kindof let that thought slide a bit. because what sources i read had all listed those as being one of the important diagnostic criteria so that is what i understand.

having said that it could be my perception of how stimulation issues present themselves Personally has me feeling like i dont suffer them when i could still be affected in different ways that im not registering as possibly being That

[realcube]

dilf december

day eleven ⭑ ushijima wakatoshi ⭑ time for christmas kids?

tw: nsfw minors dni, breeding, mentions of pregnancy, riding, squirting, size kink and cervix bruising

to everyone's surprise, ushijima was strangely receptive and understanding when his contract with the swedish adlers expired and they didn't renew it for the next season; telling him they didn't make the decision out of ill-intent, they just think it's time for him to retire.

there was nothing stopping ushijima from simply trying out for another team. he'd likely have no problem finding another one that would accept him, despite him being thirty-five, since he is still fit and healthy.

however, shockingly, ushijima took the adler's advice.

this was unlike him as all throughout his career, he has vehemently protested whenever anyone even alludes to his retirement, insisting that he will remain on the volleyball court until his legs give out from under him.

and although that is true to some extent, because he often visits the court and plays games recreationally while in retirement, it still puzzled you as to why he switched tempo so suddenly.

although, you weren't going to complain, as since leaving the swedish adlers you've been able to spend a lot more time with him than you usually did, which is always nice, especially around the holiday season. you almost felt greedy having him all to yourself: no useless teammates blowing up his phone and no whiny managers asking to meet with him. just love and peace on earth!

that is, until you remembered a conversation you've been having with him ever since the beginning of your marriage.

"when are we going to have kids, toshi?" you would look up at him with boiling anticipation in your eyes.

and though he'd appreciate your eagerness, he'd frown and reply sternly, "i don't have the time to raise kids, currently. i don't think i will ever have the time while i am employed as an athlete. we should have this discussion once i retire."

you grumbled, "but you literally always say that you're never going to retire?"

"that's true, though i might fall into unexpected circumstances. say, if i am hit by a train."

"or my car." you'd comment with a titter.

it was funny and light-hearted dialogue back then, but now that you had both matured and grown in your relationship, you find that particular topic of disucssion to be more pressing. especially as you have fallen into what ushijima may describe as "unexpected circumstances" where he now has all the time in the world to help you raise a child.

so, you decide to bring this point to his attention one night, before bed.

the outside is consumed with darkness and your back windows are virtually blackened; it reflects the flickering light of the festive scented candles placed around the room. wafting the smell of freshly baked cookies through the space, pleasing your nose like a warm hug, while your focus constantly shifts between the tv screen and your husband, who is sat beside you on the couch with his eyes drilled into a book while you lounged in your fluffy robe.

you weren't paying attention to the show currently playing at all. no, it was simply background noise to the chorus of worries and perpetual screaming in your mind, as you mulled over whether or not now was a good time to bring up the topic you so desperately wanted to discuss. the last thing you'd want to do is disturb the peaceful night you were sharing and cause tension in the household.

but if you can't talk to your husband about something that is important to you, what is the point of getting married?

you swallow your pride and inhibitions with an audible gulp, then croak, "wakatoshi?"

"yes, dear." he replies in his usual blunt manner, not glancing up from the pages.

"do you remember a while ago when we talked about having kids?" you said timidly, so quiet that ushijima could barely hear you over the noise of the tv. so he pauses the show, and replies,

"yes, i think i do remember."

his face is so stern and unwavering; it's hard to tell if that is due to his natural stoic nature, or if he truly does not care for what you are saying. for the sake of your self-esteem, you assume its the first one, and continue talking.

or, at least, you try to. it's quite hard when your heart is pounding so harshly in your chest that you feel it could leap out of your throat at any given moment. "you said we should talk about it when you retire. so, have you given it any thought?"

he furrows his eyebrows together, and stares into the distance. a couple seconds pass, and he closes his book too, placing it to the side in order to focus on pondering your question.

it takes a minute, but he finally responds, "yes, i have."

you blink, expecting him to continue, so when he doesn't, you urge him to do so, "and?"

"and i think it's a great idea. now is the perfect time to have child." he says it in such a dry manner that any onlooker would think he was being sarcastic, but you know your husband all too well, and you can pick up on the subtle signs of sincerity in his cadence.

your whole face lights up, and you perk up in your seat, "really? that's amazing news, toshi!" you squeal, lunging forward and throwing yourself into his arms. and as always, he's ready to catch you in his strong arms and hold you close for however long you need.

as your melting into the hug, wakatoshi uses his gentle grip on your waist to pull you onto his lap, only so you could be even closer together. he peppers kisses up your neck and across your shoulderblade, while his hand sneaks behind your thigh.

at first you think nothing of it, as you know your husband enjoys a sneaky little grab at your ass sometimes. however, when his squishing slowly turns into rubbing, and his target moves from your perky ass to in-between your thighs, you gasp at the realisation and stagger, "oh, you meant like.. right now?"

you jerk away from him, and he meets your shocked expression with an entirely blank look on his face, "of course."

you blink, and so does he. considering it for a moment, it only takes you a couple seconds to land on the conclusion that there is no time like the present.

thus, you slip your arms around his broad shoulders again and pull him in for a passionate kiss; lips sensually weaving together, as you bounce on his lap a little, prompting him to continue his risky endeavours.

originally, both hands are fixed on your waist. however, he slips one down under your robe in order to rub your clit. he was expecting you to be wearing undergarments underneath the robe, but he was in for a pleasant surprise when his palm made direct contact with your damp folds, and you feel him smirk into the kiss slightly, causing you to titter.

meanwhile, his other hand swiftly got to work on pulling down the elastic of his sweats and whipping out his hardened length. while the two of you were still engaged in a heated make-out session, and his fingers were still working at your clit, he stroked himself a lazily, in an attempt to temporarily satiate his desperate hunger, but his mere hand couldn't even come close to the homey grip of your pussy. he needed to be encased in your walls urgently.

soon though, after a couple more minutes of harsh action on your clit, he reckoned you would be wet enough to take him by now. and he tested this hypothesis by dipping two meaty fingers into your pussy, stretching it out and causing you to arch your back as waves of unexpected stimulation shoot through you.

your whiney moans vibrate against his tongue, as you are still locked in an intimate kiss, and he furrows his brows in thought, prodding and stirring his fingers around your insides to assess whether your hole was lubricated enough for him to enter. and with each poke at your gummy walls, he sends another lewd moan winding down to your lips.

he yanks his fingers out, deciding that however wet you were right now would have to do because he wasn't able to wait any longer.

with that, he uses the same hand to manoeuvre his cock so it was hovering right by your dripping enterance, allowing this tip to be greased with your arousal. in doing so, you are pushed back a bit, forcing you to break free from the intense kiss with a dramatic gasp. you look at him, with your pretty chest floating up and down with each shallow breath.

he looks you in the eye sternly, with a kind glint his iris, waiting for your approval.

you nod slightly, but before you are even able to processs your own response, he's already pushed you down around his girthy length, forcing your tight pussy to suck it all up, somehow.

your eyes rolled back into your head as he did so, and an obscene, pornographic whine was pried from your throat. ushijima basked in it for only a moment before he made you ride his cock by using his grip on your waist. he set a relatively slow pace to begin with, allowing your gracious hole some time to adjust to his length, but it wasn't nearly enough.

despite that, he hastily quickened his pace, bucking his hips slightly into you with every bounce, meaning he would brush your cervix with his tip, which caused you to grunt and mewl each time. you appreciated he was trying to be thorough and having him so deep inside you might increase the chances of fertility, but you weren't entirely sure if it was worth having your cervix brusied for.

the veins on his length rubbed the most delicious parts inside you, it was like he was scratching an itch you weren't even aware of until now. your cheeks and the tips of your ear heated up with pure pleasure, and you could feel him getting warmer under your touch as well. meanwhile the molten coil inside you was only growing more rigid by the second, threatening to crumble at any moment.

his dick rammed into your hole repeatedly, at an increasingly feverish pace, eliciting a short moan or grunt from you each time, and your whole body shook. therefore, ushijima had no idea where to look — he was spoiled for choice — although he revelled in watching your tits bounce wildly around and threaten to escape the confines of your robe, he was also partially mesmerised by the way your perfect cunt consumed him so nicely.

"tight.." was all he was able to grit.

you nod, but you're too fucked out to even muster up a coherent response; your mind was almost as scrambled as your insides.

with how his dick was ploughing into your poor pussy, it wasn't long until the coil inside you snapped and you found yourself suddenly shaking and tremoring while you squirted around him, unleashing a dam of crystalline fluid over his sweats and the couch.

and the harsh squeeze of your pussy around his cock was enough to tip him over the edge of a climax too, and he groaned lowly with his eyes shut as he deposited his first load into your hole. thick warmth flooding your insides in an instant, sticking to your walls and leaving you conjested.

he stayed there for a moment, to allow you both to catch your breathes, and he pried one of his eyes open to look at your beautifully dishevelled state, "thank you, (y/n)."

you chuckle, and rest your weary head on his shoulder, "thank you, toshi."

"no, thank you." he looks down at your stomach, and strokes it tenderly with his big hand, "i can't wait to see you carry our baby."

you pout, gazing up at his cute dumb face, illuminated only by the coloured tv light, which cast shadows over his strong features. you pressed a soft kiss on his cheek, and sunk into his embrace, "i can't wait either. you'll be such a good dad." you muse, dreamily.

meanwhile, he slowly eases his cock out of your hole, provoking a small hiss from you at the change. but little did you know, he was kind enough to stick his three fingers in immediately afterwards, so none of his cum threatened to spill from your leaky pussy.

"and you will be a good mother." he assures you softly, snaking an arm behind your neck to cradle your head in his arms.

then, to your surprise, he utilised this position in order to flip the two of you, so you were laying face up with your back against the couch, and he was kneeling between your legs, which he pushed spread-eagle by your knees.

it all happened so quickly, that you were already in the position before you were able to gasp, "huh?! what're you doing?"

"round two." he keeps his three fingers stuffed in your pussy while he uses his other hand to guide his erect dick towards your hole, "for the best chance of pregnancy."

[fairy-writes]

Hi!! I saw that you write for Arcane and had a really cute idea for Vander. I don’t really see a lot of fics where you get to see Vander’s reactions to the reader either playing with the kids or comforting them, so I thought a fic centered around that might be cute? (I think also having a bit of slow burn would be sweet, like both Vander and the reader like each other but don’t do anything about it until getting a little push from the kids because they ship).

ONE LITTLE PUSH

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Arcane: League of Legends

Pairing(s): Vander x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader, Bit of a Slowburn, Fluff, Getting Together, Reader is Smaller than Vander (but who isn’t?), Sibling Bickering

Notes: VANDER MY FAVORITE

(No, but seriously, contrary to popular belief, he’s my 1st favorite over Viktor)

JUST IN TIME (kind of) FOR SEASON TWO, LETS GOOOOO

__________________________________________________________________________

Vander wasn’t quite sure why you stuck around for so long. 

In fact, he wasn’t sure why you stuck around in the first place. 

But… As Vander watches you with the kids. His kids. He begins to understand why. 

You were kind, unyieldingly so. Even as Mylo grew to start picking on Powder, even as they fought, you were kind and patient and offered them the unending gentle love they all so craved. 

The love he couldn’t afford to give them because who could be gentle in the Undercity? Especially in the depths of the Lanes?

You could. 

Vander was in the middle of pouring a drink when Powder tumbled into The Last Drop. She was covered in bruises and dust from something. Or someone. She barely met his gaze as she clambered to her feet and all but sprinted into the back where they all slept. Vander looked through the multitude of customers and spotted you. 

You had obviously seen Powder go bolting, worry twisting your face as you glanced toward the bar and met his stare. You arched an eyebrow, and he shrugged. You rolled your eyes and sighed before smiling in jest and getting up from where you had been tinkering with the jukebox. 

Vander finally manages to get away from his chatty clients and makes his way back into the back room nearly fifteen minutes later. 

Only to pause by the door. 

“—ylo hates me! He does, I swear!” Powder cries, and you hush her gently, dabbing what looks to be some of the antiseptic you have lying around on her cuts and bruises. Disinfectant was hard to come by, especially in the Lanes, but you were seemingly magic in the sense that you always knew who to talk to to get some. It seems you had worked your magic yet again. 

“Did Mylo say that he hates you?” You ask gently, whispering a quiet “sorry” under your breath as she flinched with the sting of the antiseptic. 

Powder pauses, thinking what had to be her earlier conversation over, 

“Well… No…” She mumbles, and you hum, 

“Can I give you my honest opinion?” You ask, and she stills, looking up at you with wide eyes before nodding. 

“Aren’t you always honest with us?” She asks. You chuckle at that. 

“I suppose I am. But I don’t think Mylo hates you. Does he find you a bit annoying? Maybe. But every big brother thinks that about their younger siblings. I know mine did.” You say, and Powder mulls your words over and over and over in her mind. 

She always did overthink things. 

“I didn't know you had a big brother.” She says eventually, and you let out a loud laugh at that. 

“You are a silly girl for focusing on that. But yes, I came from a big family. And guess what? I was the baby of the family. Just. Like. You.” You say, emphasizing your words with a pinch to her side. Powder squeals with laughter and wriggles away to escape your dastardly tickling. 

Vander hangs his head with a huff and a smile before turning to head back to the bar counter. He can hear your conversation continue as Powder escapes your grasp.

“Now, where did you get all these bruises from?”

“Um… Vi taught me parkour from Topside down…”

“Powder! You’re like seven!”

“Seven and a half! And she said I was ready!”

Ever since you began to stick around, you had become something of a parent figure to the four little children Vander had come into care for. 

To Vi and Powder especially. 

So when Mylo burst into The Last Drop with the words of a fistfight on his tongue, you were the first one out the door. 

Vander was close behind. 

Mylo led you and Vander deep into the Undercity. In fact, it was so far into the Undercity that Vander was worried they were getting into some dark territory. 

Like… Really dark territory. 

But soon enough, the sounds of a fight were heard, and soon after, you were deep in the throng of a multi-person fistfight. Everyone paused for a second when they saw you and then stopped altogether when they spotted Vander not far behind. 

You began to pull people off and shoved them out of the way. You did this again and again, ducking under a few stray punches until you managed to unearth Vi. 

She wasn’t looking too hot. 

Her face was bruised and swollen, and the fifteen-year-old spat out a wad of blood as she bared her bloody teeth and prepared to fight again. 

At least until she saw you. 

It was as if the tension had been released from her shoulders. 

She all but slumped into your grasp, and you stumbled back a step with the sudden weight. Vander yanked the last person away from you both and scooped up his adoptive daughter. She leaned her head into the crook of his neck and was obviously fighting back tears. 

Mylo was hunched over, hands on his knees, and wheezed from all the sprinting. 

“Vi? Violet, can you hear me?” You said as soon as you all returned to The Last Drop, and Vander set her down on the couch. Powder and Claggor had been found a block away, fighting off more thugs from whoever sent them after the literal children. 

He would've pummeled them to a pulp if Vander hadn’t hung up his gauntlets years before. 

Vi’s head lolled from side to side, and you shone a pocket flashlight into her eyes, watching as her pupils dilated and contracted. You were experienced at this, taking care of people, even more so than he thought. 

Were you a doctor deep in your past? 

As Vander thought about it, he realized he didn’t know practically anything about you. Your past, your likes, dislikes, he knew you were good with machines and medicine and that you came from a big family. But that was it. 

And that hurt his heart. 

You ended up ushering everyone out of the room while you worked on caring for Vi. Vander closed the bar early and was in the middle of putting chairs on tables when you emerged. Powder, Mylo, and Claggor dropped what they were doing. They scampered to your side, a chorus of “How’s Vi?” erupting from the kids. You offered them a tired smile and patted their heads. 

“She’ll be okay. She’s resting right now. You can go in and see her if you’re quiet.”

And then it was the two of you. 

Vander set the final chair on top of the table and meandered his way over where you were sitting at the bar, head in your hands. 

You looked tired. 

“Is she really okay?” He asked, and you grunted, rubbing at your temples. 

“She has a broken nose, fractured left arm, some bruised ribs, and a concussion. Which, all things considered, she’s very lucky. It could’ve been a lot worse.” You say, and he sighs, 

“Did she say why she got into the fight?” He replied, and you shrug, 

“She was protecting Powder. Then, more people started showing up until it was an all-out brawl. That’s when we stepped in.” You say, and his shoulders sag. 

Vi was going to be okay. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever said it. But thank you. For everything you’ve done. Taking care of them and all that.” He says, and you just hum. 

“You guys gave me a home after everything. I’m just repaying my debt. Well… that and I love those kids.” You say, and he arches an eyebrow,

“After everything?” He inquires, and you glance up sharply as if not realizing what you had said. 

Eventually, your gaze casts downward, and you run a hand over your head and through your hair. 

“I was a doctor in Piltover before the rebellion. I was caught trying to help the Undercity before they were officially citizens and cast out.” You say, and his arched eyebrow raises even higher. 

“A doctor? Were you any good?” You bark out a dry laugh at that,

“One of the best!” Your voice cracks as you speak, and he feels his heart splinter into pieces. 

Vander should’ve known that Claggor and Mylo were up to something when they came in with sneaky grins on their faces. 

The Last Drop was all but desolate. It was the wee hours of the morning before the people of the Undercity awoke to begin their day. But the door was unlocked, and the kids were allowed to run in and out as they pleased. 

Which they had been doing a lot in the last hour or so. 

“Vander!” Mylor clamored for his adopted father’s attention, waving an excited hand as he scampered up to the counter. Claggor hung behind, ever the stoic young man. But there was mischief in their eyes and curling the corners of their mouths. 

Vander slung the rag he used to wipe the counters down over his shoulder and leaned on the bar counter. 

“What did you do now?” He teased, and Mylo all but squawked. 

“When have I ever done anything?!” Vander just stared, 

“Do you really want me to answer that?” He asked, and Claggor snickered at Mylo’s deflated expression. Mylo quickly spun on a heel and jabbed a finger at his adopted brother, 

“Not a word outta you, Claggor!” He snapped before spinning back as something dawned on him.

“You gotta come with us!” He demanded, and Vander glanced between the two of them. 

“Why?” He asked, and Mylo let out an exaggerated groan.

“No questions! Just come on!” He grabbed Vander’s hand and tried tugging him around the counter and toward the front door. 

Vander relented, locking the door behind him as he followed the two boys. 

Only to realize very quickly what was actually going on. 

His first tip-off was hearing Powder and Vi’s voices, yours mixed in as you asked where you were going, why they were taking you, and what they were doing. 

Vi answered no questions. Powder just chirped excitedly. “You’ll see! You’ll see!”

The six of you met in the middle of the street, Powder dragging you by your hand as you followed behind patiently. You glanced up from listening to Powder, and your gazes met. Vander felt his heart skip a beat as he took in your appearance. There wasn’t anything particularly new, but you looked like you had cleaned up some. Your hair was pinned neatly back, and your clothes looked ironed. 

You looked… Really nice.

“Vander? What’s going on?” You asked, and Vi nudged you with her good arm. Her fractured left one was still healing carefully under your care. 

“We’re setting you two up.” She teased, and you stared dumbly. 

“Setting us up how?” You asked, and now it was Powder’s turn to blurt out an answer, 

“On a date!” 

Before the two of you could react, all four kids all but disappeared around the corner in a cloud of dust. Leaving you facing Vander and utterly alone. 

It was safe to say he was panicking just a little bit. 

“Vander? Do you have any idea what they meant?” You asked gently, and he scrubbed a hand down his face. 

“My guess is they want us to go on a date.” He said, fully prepared to hear rejection. Because who would want to go on a date with him? A middle-aged man with a stained past. His lungs twisted as he heard you take a step closer. 

A smaller hand slipped into his, and he looked down from where he had been staring at Topside. 

Your eyes were lit up, not with disgust at the proposition he was proposing. 

But they were filled with hope for the future this relationship would bring. 

[chubsonthemoon]

Another jayvik book!!! This is the incredible divine alchemy of the self, by r0sie_p0sies.

This fic was recommended to me by dear friend @ilgaksu and holyyyyy shit. It was written pre-s2 and yet somehow ends up in the exact same emotional place as the finale; the similarities range from larger scene beats all the way down to certain dialogue choices. Rosie just gets these characters, through and through!

As usual, process chatter under the cut!

It's fitting for a jayvik book that this first attempt was chock-full of experiments and new techniques! This is my first hardcover quarto Legal size, which I really loved doing. I also finally have a proper finishing press, so I was able to properly round and back a book for the first time! The shoulders are a little weak, so I'm hoping to improve when I make Rosie's author copy. I also used my foil pen for the first time and handwrote the little blurb on the back.

Most exciting, this was the first time I tried an inset! I used some of my favorite blue Momi marbled paper; rectangle placement is heavily inspired by one of @pleasantboatpress's gorgeous binds. Loveee me a good rectangle, heh. I thought an inset was fitting for this story; as you can probably tell from the title, the fic is all about transforming oneself--through grief, through illness, through love. I wanted this to be a book of contrasts--stark white for a kind of blank canvas (also a nod to Viktor's hexcorized dolls in s2), blue and gold for magic/hextech. Here's an abridged version of what I sent Rosie while chatting about design (please picture me as that It's Always Sunny conspiracy meme, but in DMs):

The framework of the fic being alchemy, creation, a literal step-by-step guide for how to create something divine, is something I really want to explore! I really like the idea of this kind of blank canvas casing + swirling paper inset. All the love and life and messy tendrils of illness surrounded by this...blank divinity. That divinity as a medium, a container, for the complicated human experience. But also the inverse--the blankness of the canvas drawing attention to the brilliant blue/gold of the inset. The bright light shining through the windows of their living room in the ending scene juxtaposed with the moment of their (possible? wonderfully ambiguous?) deaths; those two moments being, in many ways, the same. A window into their lives loving each other, seen from both the outside and within. *insert lots of keyboard smashing*

Interiority and vulnerability were also two themes I wanted to convey. So with that theme in mind, I tried something very, very new to me, and thought, fuck it, let's try to use paper vellum for the endpapers:

You're not really supposed to use paper vellum for endpapers because 1) it wrinkles and curls like all hell and 2) since it's translucent, it means you can see the inside of the boards and the tapes. But for this bind, I decided to lean into that effect--I scribbled the four stages of the alchemical process (the framework of the fic's chapters) onto the boards so you could see them when you opened the book (I wanted to evoke jayvik's "mad scientists" vibe lol); I cut the supporting linen tapes into points (a nod to the rune Viktor carves into his leg brace) and painted them gold so they'd stand out more (they reminded me of Vik's spine brace; I mean hell, they're literally sewn into the spine of the book for extra support. It felt criminal to not incorporate them in some way!); I tried to be more intentional with the glue brushstrokes while casing in to give the paste-down a more painted effect; and finally, probably the thing that was hardest to let go (and which I'm still a little unsure about, to be honest), I let the damn endpapers wrinkle, for more ~texture.~

The overall effect is something I'm still mulling over, even as I write this--it kind of goes against everything I've learned as a bookbinder, and almost makes me feel (or rather, the book feel lol) naked. These are the parts of the book you aren't normally supposed to see, put on display the moment you open it. But! I think that even if it's not the strongest from a design perspective, I think thematically, it works. Reading this fic made me feel like I was being carved open, so I wanted the experience of reading the book to be a little vulnerable, too. Also: beauty in imperfections, right? :3

Aaand that's all for today! A million thanks again to Rosie for letting me bind her wonderful work <3

And once more for the road: you can read divine alchemy of the self on ao3!

[gay-dorito-dust]

Your gravity falls fanfics are so good!! :0 if you’re still taking requests could I request a one shot where Stan’s s/o is with him during the fight between him and ford and they get sucked into the portal instead of ford? I love your angst so much hehehe

Part two is right here

You had originally came with Stanley as support for when he confronts Ford after spending a long period of his life with no contact, no nothing to reassure his twin that he was fine and not dead in a ditch somewhere.

‘The nerve of him, living it up here and not so much as a word to his one brother, his twin no less.’ Stan muttered, his gip tightened on your hand as you both walked up to the lonely shack amidst the snowy forest, but there was something else there besides anger it was nervousness or perhaps worry that his brother didn’t contact him for one reason or another.

‘And here’s your chance to make yourself heard,’ you said as you squeezed his hand, hoping to comfort Stan during this difficult moment for him, ‘you’ve spent enough time to mull over what it is that you want to tell him, now is the time to let him know how much this has affected you and he will have to listen regardless.’

However you’ve came to realise that there was a lot more going on that Ford claims that you and Stanley weren’t aware of as his eyes shifted everywhere out of paranoia. You were still blinking your eyes after getting abruptly blinded by Ford upon first meeting, something about possession? You were certain this wasn’t how you thought you’d be meeting Stan’s twin -not in the slightest- but it was clear to you that Ford was afraid of something, what it was he wouldn’t tell only saying that he needed Stan to hide his journals, scatter them as far from each other which did nothing but annoy Stan.

You could see the clench in his jaw and his fists and were about to reach out and ground him but before you could blink, Stan and Ford were tussling over the journal across the lab as the portal thrummed with power, almost as if entertained by the fight between twins and you were left unable to do anything but watch.

‘Is that all you brought me here for! To help you hide your journals?! I bet I didn’t cross your mind not even once!’ Stanley shouted as he kept the journal close to his chest with his lighter as he managed to keep Ford where he wanted him.

‘You don’t understand Stanley! This is dangerous things you are holding in your hands!’ Ford replied, eyes firmly locked onto the journal and the flickering flame of his brother’s lighter that got too close to the journal’s pages for his liking. ‘Think about the potential threats-‘

‘Fuck that! I want my brother back!’ Stanley cuts his brother off as he grew frustrated at how his brother was - once again- not listening to him or what he had to say. ‘You could’ve called upon me any time! But you only call upon me when you want someone else to do your dirty work for you! What about what I want! My life is in ruins because of you!’ Ford lunged towards Stan and managed to knock the lighter out of his hand, grasping at the bottom half of the journal while Stanley tightened his grip on the upper half of the journal.

‘You ruined your own life and you’ll ruin y/n’s with the way that you are going!’ Ford retorts in a strained voice as he and Stanley tugged the journal in two different ways, just for Stanley to loose his grip, fall backwards and hurt himself on a hot surface that caused him to scream in pain. ‘Stanley!’ You and Ford yelled as you both went to rush to Stan’s aid, hoping he wasn’t too hurt, only for him to Punch Ford in the face and as Ford stumbled backwards he bumped into you. which then caused you to fall back into a lever of sorts; before soon finding yourself beginning to float and be drawn towards the portal with nothing to grab onto to prevent it from happening.

Freaking out you yelled, ‘STANLEY! HELP ME!’ You screamed as you found yourself getting closer and closer to the entrance of the portal, helplessly flailing out of pure panic and need to get away from it, not realising that your attempts to get away were fruitless. Your screams had dragged Ford and Stan from their fight as they could only watch in horror as half of your body was already in the portal.

‘Y/n! Baby! HOLD ON! JUST HOLD ON BABY IM COMING!’ Stanley yelled back as he frantically looked for anything he could use to rope you back to the ground, but grew frustrated when he couldn’t find not a single piece of rope or metal rod lying about, the lab was clean of any and all obstruction. ‘FORD HELP ME!’ He cried as he looked back at his twin, who was frantically looking himself for anything to get you away from the portal, just to face the same problem that frustrated Stanley. ‘I’m trying!’ He shouted over his shoulder as his guilt for bringing both you and Stan here began to weigh down on him heavily.

‘Well you’re not looking hard enough!’ Stanley barked as the fear of losing you was slowly crushing his chest, making it harder for him to breath as his mind raced with the thought of having to live a life without you, his anchor, his best friend and his beloved partner. He hated it, he didn’t want to envision it but here he was living the nightmare he swore would never come true, feeling helpless and useless as he was forced to hear your frightened sounds and not be able to do anything about it.

He didn’t even get to say the words ‘I love you’ yet as he was scared that you’d find someone better then him before he even mustered up the courage, but you never did. You stayed by his side, even if it mean moving from state to state almost every week because of him and Stanley knew he didn’t deserve you, but that didn’t necessarily mean he wanted to loose you from his life either.

Stan and Ford tired their hardest but it wasn’t enough as by the time they looked back at you, your outstretched hand was the last thing the pair saw as the portal closed, leaving them to stare at the portal in denial of their failure to rescue you. ‘Baby?’ Sanely said as he stepped forward hesitantly. ‘BABY! THIS ISNT FUNNY! COME OUT PLEASE!’ He cried louder now when the realisation began to set for him as he ran towards the lever, pulling it and pushing it in desperation of re-opening the portal in hopes of seeing you rush out and right into his arms; where he would keep you for as long as you’d allow him to.

Only for neither of those things to happen, the portal remained shut and you remained lost to whatever was on the opposite side, scared, confused and alone.

‘WHY ISNT IT WORKING!’ Stan screamed as he pushed and pulled, pushed and pulled the lever so much that Ford had to physically drag him away from it before he broke it, thus making more work for them in getting you back. ‘Stop Stanley, it’s not working!’ Ford said as he managed to stand between his twin and the lever, ‘the portal is out of power, it won’t open up unless we get the necessary materials to open it again.’

‘Then what are we doing! Let’s go get it!’ Stanley said as he was about to leave the lab but was stoped by Ford’s hand on his arm, which he shrugged off violently. ‘It’s not so easily obtained Stanley,’ Ford said as he let his hand drop to his side as Stanley glared at him, ‘we need money to get the parts needed to power the portal up. I only had enough to open it once and that took a lot of time, even with Fiddleford’s help, and without him or the necessary materials…’ Ford trailed off which didn’t help Stanley’s mood as he grew angrier at his brother’s insinuation.

‘They’re trapped on the other side forever?!’ He yelled. ‘Bullshit! I don’t believe that! I want them back now!’ Stanley then grabs Ford by the collar and brings him so that they were eye to eye. ‘Give them back or I swear to fucking god Stanford-‘

‘I can’t bring them back without the necessary materials Stanley I told you.’ Ford reaffirmed as he started at his heartbroken twin as the first signs of tears left his eyes, Ford felt Stan’s grip loosened on him until they went completely slack at his side as he fell to his knees, chin dropping to his chest as he silently wept. ‘Bring them back.’ Stanley chanted softly, ‘being them back to me, I can’t loose them. You don’t understand. They’re everything to me and now I’m nothing without them.’ Stanley whispered to the air as if someone with the power to grant his wish will hear him, but instead elected to ignore him and his pleads.

Ford, heartbroken at seeing how distraught and lifeless his brother had became, slowly knelt in front of him in silence, not knowing how to comfort him correctly as he felt himself to blame for your disappearance into the portal. He had taken away the one person who cared for Stanley in the times where his family couldn’t be bothered, someone who loved him unconditionally regardless of what he did and Ford had taken you away from him seemingly forever, so he wouldn’t be surprised if Stanley would hold a grudge against him for it.

However one thing was for certain, he’d help his brother get you back however he could, no matter how long it would take them, even if it took them thirty years to do so; it was a risk that Ford originally wasn’t willing to take but if it meant getting you back to Stanley then he’d do anything to see his brother happy again.

[val-made-a-mistake]

Currently imagining a scenario where you and Eddie have some sort of split custody arrangement for Venom, and you have some sort of NSFW dream about Eddie, and Venom sees the whole thing because of brain link or whatever, and then shares this exciting development with Eddie the next time he's bonded to Venom

venom is definitely not one to keep a secret, for sure 😭 thank you so much for your request, i hope you enjoy. :) smut-wise, it's a bit more focused on eddie than my previous fics where it was either symbiote-focused or an even split, hope that's okay. this was SO much fun to write!

warnings: brief smut, mentions of oral f receiving, mentions of "striking" the reader but it's totally a misunderstanding, loneliness, mentions of eating people/murder

word count: 3.3k

//////

It had been six days since Eddie had left for Seattle, and honestly, you hadn’t been expecting to fall into this loneliness so quickly. Venom might have been keeping you company by providing you with an endless stream of commentary in your inner conscience, and the chickens were constantly squawking and squabbling and wandering the length of the apartment as per usual, so it wasn’t like the space was totally silent, but still, Eddie’s absence was more saddening than you thought it would be. Over the course of the six days, you struggled to busy yourself. Of course you preferred Eddie having a job as to being without one, but one thing you particularly hated was how vague investigative jobs were, so as a result, you had no idea when he would come back or how long the work would take to be done.

For the time being, it looked like you were stuck here.

Before he’d left, Eddie had asked you to babysit Venom and his apartment, and now that you’d been here for an extended amount of time, you felt horribly restless.

Feeling the weight of the quiet apartment settling in, you cast a glance around the room. The hum of the refrigerator seemed to amplify in the sort-of silence, and you found yourself drawn to staring at Eddie's belongings scattered around.

Your gaze fell on a framed photograph on the shelf – Eddie with a carefree grin, arm slung around your shoulders. The memories flooded back, and a bittersweet smile touched your lips.

As if sensing your thoughts, Venom's voice rumbled in your mind.

EDDIE IS DEFINITELY MISSING OUT WITHOUT US AROUND.

The symbiote's attempt at comfort was appreciated, but it only deepened your sense of solitude.

Sighing you folded yourself into a ball on the couch, tucking your chin into your knees. The TV in front of you was off, and you had no intention to turn it on. For now, it was okay to mull in the quiet.

You mumbled into your knees, “What do you think he's up to in Seattle?" 

CATCHING BAD GUYS. KICKING BUTT. EATING SEATTLE FOOD. ZOOMING AROUND. ACTING PATHETIC WITHOUT US THERE.

“V, you and I don’t know anything about investigative journalism,” you put in gently.

Venom was, of course, offended.

I KNOW A LOT ABOUT EATING BAD GUYS!

“Yeah, but Eddie won’t let you eat bad guys in Seattle any more than he does here.”

It was at that moment that Venom popped out from your shoulder blade, miniature head scowling.

HE SHOULD!

“Wanna go get a bite to eat?” you interjected, effectively ending the conversation. “I’ll even let you drive, if you want.”

Venom grinned much too wide for his intentions to be anything but nefarious, so you quickly added, “No eating people.”

You turned fast and pointed to the pizza box sign in the kitchen. “Eddie might not be here, but that rule’s definitely still active while you’re in my body, okay?”

Venom, for lack of a better word with his gaping mouth full of super-sized fangs, pouted.

YOU ARE NO FUN!

I just don’t want to be involved in any murder, you wanted to say, but slimy, black, glittering goo was already wrapping and contorting around your middle. Venom was enveloping you, taking over.

It was a bit of an unpleasant sensation as Venom’s monstrous gooey head locked into place over where yours used to be, and rows of impressive fangs unfolded in your suddenly super-sized mouth. It felt like somebody had cracked an egg over your head and the yolk was dripping down your body. You weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to it. You had no idea how Eddie put up with it.

For how quickly his annoyance started, Venom seemed to get over it pretty quickly. He grinned and licked his lips.

I WOULD LIKE TO GO TO MCDONALDS.

//////

The room was shrouded in the quiet stillness of the night. The dim glow of a bedside lamp cast a warm pool of light on the walls, creating a cozy haven within the four corners of Eddie’s bedroom. You were in bed. Venom, for the first time that day, was quiet.

Under the soft blanket, your eyelids were growing heavy with the weight of the day's endeavours. You still missed Eddie, a lot, so much that your nightly FaceTime call almost wasn’t enough. Seeing his face on your laptop screen was just a further reminder of how far two states away felt, and how binded you felt to him since you met him — he pulled at you without even realizing it, like you’d been sewn together with invisible thread.

Hopefully he wouldn’t be in Seattle for too much longer.

The rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall seemed to synchronize with the slowing pace of your breath. As the minutes ticked away, you found yourself on the threshold of the dream world, caught between wakefulness and the gentle pull of slumber. Not even the distant murmur of passing cars was enough to distract you now.

Closing your eyes, you surrendered to the sensation of falling asleep, gently gliding down into the abyss of dreams. Eddie’s bedroom, once familiar and defined, now blurred at the edges, transforming into a surreal landscape of colours and shapes.

As you drifted further into the realms of slumber, a sensation of weightlessness enveloped you. It was as if you were floating on a sea of tranquility, carried away by the ebb and flow of your own breath. The boundaries between reality and imagination began to dissolve, and the world outside melted.

//////

Sometime between now and then, you’d ended up bent over in Eddie’s lap, on a couch that felt just like his couch, but was ambiguous enough that it could’ve been anywhere. Things were slightly blurry around the edges, surreal enough to have you breathless, but real enough that you weren’t questioning your surroundings.

“Holy shit,” Eddie breathed as he tilted his head, carefully examining the swelling ass on his lap. Your pussy was dripping, there was a dribble of arousal forming, but in all honesty, he was a little scared to touch you, he didn’t want to hurt you. “I don’t think I’m getting a finger in there, girl. Wow.”

“Luckily, I’m not that fragile,” you responded playfully as you arched your back for him. Eddie bit his lip as this only accentuated the curve of your ass.

“God,” he whispered as he ran a hand up your thigh: he was able to break them apart easily, and he pulled one leg over his lap, wedging you firmly between his legs.

Even though you were already soaking wet, Eddie’s fingers ran over your dripping slit for a moment, as if he were admiring the way your pussy fluttered at his touch in front of him.

God, you could just feel how wet you were, and you bit your lip, anticipating for Eddie to lean forward, and—

Y/N!!!

In an instant you’d jumped awake: you’d sprang to attention without really realizing how you’d done it, scrambling for the lamp. “What’s going on?”

Venom was protruding from your shoulderblade again, bouncing even more than normal, very clearly in extreme distress.

SWEET GIRL. WE ARE RECEIVING VISIONS.

You stifled your yawn with your hand. “V, do you mean, like - like a dream?”

WE ARE RECEIVING VISIONS! RECEIVING VISIONS OF EDDIE EATING YOU! THIS IS VERY SERIOUS! WE NEED TO KEEP YOU SAFE!

Your cheeks instantly warmed, and you froze, scrambling for something to say. “Oh - oh, shit, Venom - that - I’m so sorry, but I really don’t think that was what you think it was.”

HE WAS STRIKING YOU! Venom snapped.

Oh my god. He really saw all of that.

You reached for the water bottle on your nightstand. “V, you seriously don’t need to worry about this. It wasn’t real. It was a dream. Nothing bad will come from it."

Venom was, of course, still hysterical.

IT WAS A PROPHECY! THIS IS BAD!

I wouldn’t mind if it was a prophecy, you thought selfishly before you could stop yourself, but you shoved it down. “Everything’s alright, Venom. Okay? Everything's fine. Let’s just go back to bed.”

I WILL NOT APOLOGIZE FOR CARING ABOUT YOU, Y/N.

You were already sliding back under the blanket. “I’m not asking you to, V. I appreciate it.”

You hesitated.

“Just, uh, next time you’re bonded to Eddie, please don’t tell him about this, okay? It could make him - I don't know, uncomfortable. You know, I - I don’t know how he’d react to the prophecy of him supposedly hurting me, that’s all. I don’t want to worry him.”

(You were hoping wildly that he would accept, and you and Venom would never talk about this again.)

In a move you’d never seen before, Venom raised one gloopy, black tentacle towards you, and recognizing the movement, you extended your pinky towards him. Your pinky and the black goo linked together for a moment, signifying your trust.

Venom grinned, now bouncing significantly less.

I NEVER BREAK A PINKY PROMISE, SWEET GIRL.

You raised your eyebrow.

I TRY NOT TO.

You were much too tired for any of this, you simply turned over to switch off the lamp and finally return to whatever remnants of that dream was left. “Okay then. Goodnight, V.”

//////

It was satisfying to have everything fall back into the natural order once Eddie returned home from Seattle. You returned to your own apartment on the opposite side of town, but of course visited frequently, and Eddie was grateful to be back in a low-stakes environment once more, with a snarky symbiote that would terrify anyone who would try to harm him. Seattle had been thrilling, and he'd recounted the adventure to you several times, but now he was back to something familiar.

The job was done. He was covered for the time being. Freelancing was difficult, but for now, everything would be okay.

In the intervening time, Venom talked about you, a lot. Ever since he met you, he’d taken to mentioning you. But ever since you’d agreed to split custody of the symbiote, and especially since Eddie had disappeared for Seattle, he was talking about you even more.

I AM WORRIED ABOUT Y/N, he said one day.

Eddie was idly clicking through TV channels, watching everything from the news to a police drama to a basketball game zoom past, finding none of them interesting. “Why?”

I DO NOT WANT ANY BAD OMENS TO BE FOLLOWING HER. WE NEED TO KEEP HER SAFE.

“What makes you say that?” he asked, a bit confused.

Venom suddenly popped out of his shoulder, howling.

SHE - SHE HAS -

Before Venom could get any actual words out, Eddie was lifted from the couch as the symbiote rose and slammed his head into the ceiling, denting it severely and sending bits of drywall raining down from the heavens like it was a form of self-punishment.

As quickly as it started, Eddie had been dropped on the couch, red in the face and gasping for air.

Venom hardly noticed: he seemed to be in extreme distress.

I WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO TELL!

Eddie put a hand to his throat, still sweaty and gasping, forcing an inhale. “V - what?”

Venom was beside himself, now.

Y/N IS RECEIVING VISIONS! VISIONS OF YOU!

"Visions? What do you mean, visions of me?" Eddie asked, his concern deepening. Suddenly, he wasn’t feeling half-strangled anymore. His mind was racing, his thoughts a jumble of confusion and worry. "What kind of visions? Is she in danger?" 

He couldn't fathom what could be causing you to have distressing dreams about him.

Right after Seattle? Right after he thought the work was finished?

I DO NOT KNOW. BUT WE MUST PROTECT HER.

Without waiting for further response, Venom oozed off Eddie's shoulder and began slithering around the room, agitated.

Eddie remained on the couch, trying to process this information. "If something's going on, then we need to talk to her, right? Figure out what's happening."

I AGREE. SHE IS PART OF US, AND WE WILL NOT LET ANY HARM BEFALL HER.

He paused, awkwardly.

BUT PLEASE LET HER KNOW I AM SORRY. I WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO SHARE THIS WITH YOU, EDDIE. SHE SAYS SHE DOES NOT WANT TO WORRY YOU. SHE DOES NOT SHARE THE SAME CONCERN I HAVE.

It didn’t matter: Eddie was already grabbing his phone and dialling your number, fingers tapping nervously against his screen.

After a few tense rings, you picked up.

“Hey, Eddie!”

"Hey, we need to talk," Eddie said urgently, glancing at Venom, who was now wrapping himself around the coffee table, sticky and pulsating, in deep despair.

Concern filled your voice. "Is everything okay?"

“Oh, I mean, yeah, right now it is,” he responded wildly, vaguely aiming for nonchalant. “I was just talking to V, you know, and he said something, and - I just kinda wanted to call, y’know, see if you were alright-”

“Oh, I'm fine,” you confirmed, but you still sounded confused. “I don’t have anything going on today, so I’m just spending some time to myself. What did V tell you?”

Across from Eddie, Venom moaned in despair, a mere gooey black glob of depression on his sitting room floor.

SWEET GIRL, I AM SORRY!

“He said you were getting some disturbing visions, and not gonna lie, it kinda freaked me out a bit,” Eddie said sheepishly, hoping you hadn’t heard that. “I just wanted to call and see if you were okay, that’s all. I know this is random. Sorry. Just, with the nature of the last case, y’know, up in Seattle-”

It didn’t take long before he realized he was rambling again about the Seattle case, so he stopped. “Sorry.”

"No, it's okay."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, then a sigh.

Of course this was happening.

“Eddie, there’s been a misunderstanding,” you said. “Just, look - do you mind coming over? I’ll explain everything to you once you’re here. This might be better in person.”

Eddie was on his feet in an instant. “Sure, yeah.”

//////

Eddie rushed through the city streets, a mixture of worry and curiosity gnawing at him. Venom was bonded to him again, because he’d rather not think about the consequences of a depressed Venom lingering around the apartment while he was out, and the symbiote seemed to writhe within him with impatience. Or maybe that was just the motorbike rumbling underneath him. Whichever it was, he felt nauseous.

The symbiote had a tendency to jump to conclusions, but Eddie definitely couldn't shake the unease that settled in his gut.

Upon arriving at your apartment, Eddie knocked hastily.

To his surprise, you opened the door with a small smile.

"Hey," you greeted, ushering him inside. "Thanks for coming over."

Eddie nodded, glancing around your living room as if expecting something unusual. Venom, still on edge, clung within him like a sentient black backpack.

He didn’t want to come off as too eager, or too worried, so he just shoved his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and hoped he looked casual despite the storm of questions brewing inside of him.

“So - what’s the deal?”

Deep inside of him, Venom was quivering with fright. As his gooey molecular form had to be closely intertwined with several of his most important organs right now, it was very hard not to notice the sensation.

You winced. “He’s just freaking out about nothing. There’s no bad omens or visions. I just had a dream, and you were in it. Simple stuff. Nothing to worry about.”

“It wasn’t a bad dream?” Eddie said, cautious.

You were definitely closer, now. “Actually, I’d say it was a pretty damn good dream.”

Eddie’s breath was caught in his throat. Out of everything that could’ve happened tonight, he definitely hadn’t been expecting…this.

He was a little confused, honestly. What was going on? The hairs on the back of his neck were raised, but he didn't feel as though he was in danger. On the contrary, he felt quite warm.

“Let me show you?” you offered.

"Okay," he bit out before he was conscious of making the decision, and you were stepping in front of him, and realizing, he closed his eyes on instinct--

The kiss that followed was absolutely dizzying.

There was something so particularly desperate about this: you were kissing, gasping against his mouth and pulling at his jacket, which made the two of you blindly scramble backwards into the apartment, messy and needy. The kiss quickly turned into a battle of control, with Eddie being the one to guide you forward, his hands on your hips. You bit his bottom lip in response, forcing him to open up and then the kiss was all about tongues, wet and sensitive.

You were on the couch when you finally broke apart, gasping.

"Baby," Eddie wheezed, his eyes darting across your face in disbelief, "I - what was that?"

"Is V with you?" you asked, instead of answering the question.

He was apprehensive now. "Yeah?"

"He needs to know I'm not in danger," you whispered, and you leaned forward to kiss him again.

It was much too chaste, and after you pulled away, Eddie was in mute astonishment for a moment.

His voice was scratchy when he spoke. "Disturbing visions, huh?"

You just smiled. "In my dream, we were on a couch, like this."

Eddie still couldn't believe this was happening. The anxiety in his gut on the way over had been completely forgotten now, blurring out of his memory, the future was an impossible thing, there was just this. This was all he had; this was all he wanted. "Were we, now?"

He didn't know what to do, but that didn't seem to matter, you were leading.

You nodded. "It was kinda hot."

"Kinda?" Eddie repeated dumbly, breathless. His voice sounded like a stranger's.

Before he could embarrass himself, Venom's voice rumbled within him, frustrated.

EDDIE, STOP BEING A PUSSY!

Wondering vaguely if this had been a trap all along, Eddie grabbed the nape of your neck and pulled you in for a kiss. Your mouths roved together, and he took the opportunity to pull you over, closer to him. The curve of your bare spine was warm from under your sweater. He kept his hand there, roaming carelessly, drifting up to the clasp of your bra.

You seemed to get what he was going for, and then suddenly you were straddling him, and with you on top of him, he could no longer ignore how interested his dick was in the proceedings.

Slightly, just slightly, you rolled your hips against his clothed crotch, and Eddie choked out a moan.

Oh, fuck. He could feel the sweat materializing and running down his back. This was better than good.

(Venom was definitely going to tease him about this later.)

"What happened next?" Eddie mumbled, looking up at you, his eyes blown black.

You smiled, then crossed your arms and peeled off your sweater. Eddie shifted his grip, holding you by the hips again, and you tossed your sweater elsewhere.

Venom was going absolutely insane from inside him: it felt like he was rumbling somewhere around his large intestine.

DO NOT MESS THIS UP, EDDIE!

Meanwhile, you were, of course, oblivious to the commentary in Eddie's mind.

"I mean," you said, and your voice wasn't smoky like it had been before. It was just curious, with a note of teasing, like this was an everyday conversation. "You ate me out."

He pressed a light kiss to your throat. "Then flip over, baby."

Inside his head, Venom seemed to be having some kind of meltdown. Maybe he had just realized what the dream was. Maybe he was jealous. Either way, he was rambling in Eddie's mind.

SWEET GIRL - SO FRAGILE - SO SWEET - SO DELICIOUS - I NEED TO TASTE -

[lumilasi]

Since I've been updating one of my bleach fics more recently, I felt the once-in-a-blue-moon urge to draw something from it.....decision I VERY MUCH regretted lmao, because what I picked was SUPER difficult to draw, and I had to take some creative liberty with these designs, lessening the detail in them (Didn't even have a proper ref for Oni-Ichigo to begin with...).

Still, I managed to finish this at least. Fanart isn't really my thing anymore that much so these will be rare, even if I am writing semi-regularly.

The scene this bases on from Jack of All Hollows:

(Context, this is a memory viewed by "main" Ichigo of the story, Oni-Ichigo is a separate person)

Grimmjow eventually shifts, now just sitting on the bridge ledge properly, dangling his bare feet over the water. His companion follows his example, though chooses to keep his legs towards the bridge instead, sitting the other way around. He was still glancing at Grimmjow, and Ichigo could tell that color on his demon doppleganger’s face wasn’t just alcohol. He looked like there was something he was trying to say, but was hesitating.

Ichigo knew what it was.

Clearly, Grimmjow was aware of his companion mulling over something, as the blunet eventually snorts and turns to look at Oni Ichigo annoyed.

"What? Spill it, I can literally hear yer overthinkin’ shit again.”

"You can share memories, not read minds.”

"The gears in your brain are so rusty they make shit ton of noise, Kurosaki. Hard not to hear all that.”

The ginger demon laughs at that, his reaction seemingly confusing his companion a little, the point he now grabs Oni Ichigo’s arm and threatens to throw him into the river if he didn’t explain what was so damn funny now. His companion eventually manages to stop laughing with a wheeze, now looking back at the pouty looking blunet, who was clearly still confused about his behavior.

"Yer way too drunk huh; never knew your stubborn ass was this lightweight.”

"Yeah, guess I am.”

Watching the pair, Ichigo felt uneasy now, suddenly having a feeling this wouldn’t end well for his twin. Obviously, this Ichigo had died, but beyond that…

Suddenly, his twin leans closer, clearly catching Grimmjow off-guard. The kiss doesn’t last long, and once his twin pulls back he had gone completely red, now averting his gaze and rubbing his neck sheepishly. Grimmjow had gone completely stiff, just like he’d done that night at that other bridge.

"S-sorry. I….uh.”

He seems to struggle for a moment to decide what to say, still avoiding the blue eyes staring at him. Grimmjow still hadn’t moved an inch, as if his brain had short circuited and he was struggling to process what just happened.

"….You know. You’re not as bad as I thought when we first met. And lately, I don’t know. I just….I like hanging out with you, when you’re not trying to kill me.”

Oni Ichigo chuckles sheepishly, still avoiding his gaze. Grimmjow now turns his head away, his face still unreadable, though the shock seemed to have faded. The atmosphere around the pair had shifted from the easygoing drunkedness to something much more tense and awkward, though Ichigo wasn’t sure if he was reading it that way, or if the emotion was attached to the memory itself.

"I’ve been thinking about that a lot. And….I-I don’t think its…”

Oni Ichigo swallows down hard now, finally daring to look up at Grimmjow. Seeing that uneasy look in his eyes, oh fuck he was scared too. It had clearly taken his twin a lot to bring this up, and so far, neither could tell what Grimmjow was thinking.

"I don’t think it’s friendly affection I’m feeling.”

Silence.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Surgery III

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader

Summary: Mami wants another one

Because of your superpower, Mami says that you make a lot of assumptions. She says it's because your brain makes lots of different connections that other people wouldn't. Sometimes you just assume things because of it.

You don't know what that means but you just nod and smile because Ingrid says that's what you need to do to get Mami to stop talking sometimes.

You're completely enamoured with the washing machine spinning when Ingrid swears. Or, you think she swears. Sometimes she says stuff in Norwegian that she tells you not to repeat because it's naughty so you assume those are swear words.

She doesn't swear a lot but you know to ignore it anyway, focussing on the way the washing machine spins. You'd tried to get in it once with Bagheera so you could both spin but Mami got angry at you and talked for ages for you smiled and nodded as your mind wandered to whether or not you could fit in Bagheera's cat tree.

"Cub," Ingrid groans and your name makes you turn.

She's holding one of your toy trucks. It's big and yellow and it's like the ones that the people building the apartments down the street use to move all their big rocks.

You smile toothily at Ingrid and reach your hand out for your toy.

"I asked you to clean up your mess a while ago, cub," She says, not giving your toy to you.

You frown. Ingrid did tell you to do that but you'd gotten distracted by Bagheera and then the rumble of the washing machine. You like the washing machine so you sat in front of it.

"My toy," You say.

"We need to clean up," Ingrid says," It's very messy."

You don't see the problem. Your things are strewn all over the room but you know where everything is so it shouldn't be a problem. But Ingrid likes things neat and tidy.

You think that's why Mami is dating her because Mami is messy and she needs someone to organise her things like how Ingrid helps you organise your thoughts.

You like Ingrid though and want to keep her happy because she's the boss in the house.

You get a bit distracted as you go to pick up your digger, making little engine noises with your mouth. You're not really sure how engine noises sound so you just mimic the sound of the washing machine instead.

You ram it into the wall a few times as Mami comes into the room.

She's holding Bagheera.

"Oh, please, Ingrid," Mami says," It won't be much trouble. Please, let's get another one."

You wonder what Mami is talking about. You put your truck away and reach for your lion cub, making it purr like the washing machine as you get out your magic wiggles.

You mull over Mami's words. You don't go to nursery a lot (Ingrid says that they don't accommodate your add with an h somewhere well so you only go when you absolutely have to) but the last time you went, there was a little boy who said that his mum begged his papa for another baby and she got one.

If that's what Mami is talking about, you don't like it. You don't want a new baby because if Mami gets a new baby then maybe you won't be lion cub anymore because the baby will be younger than you so they'll get your nickname.

You don't want a new nickname because you're Mami and Ingrid's cub.

Your thoughts make your magic wiggles a bit worse than better, especially when Mami mentions your name.

"It'd be good for y/n," She says," You've always said it was good for you when you were younger."

Ingrid makes a face. "That's different and you know it. We had a bigger house when I was younger. There's not enough space here."

You're glad Ingrid is speaking up because adults don't always listen to little kids. You know this because sometimes the adults at nursery don't like you running around when you have the magic wiggles even though Ingrid tells you it's the best way to get them out.

You hope Mami listens to Ingrid because you definitely don't want the new baby that Mami must want.

"Please, Ingrid," Mami says," We can make room! y/n would love it! It could share her bed."

You freeze instantly. Your brain screeches to a halt as you work out what Mami's just said.

You're up on your feet, throwing your lion cub to the ground and screeching. It's very high pitched and it makes your ears ring a little bit. You stamp your foot.

"No!" You say," Not in my bed!"

You don't want to share your bed anymore than you want to share your Mami and your Ingrid.

"No! No! No!" You cry.

You couldn't get your magic wiggles out earlier but they're all coming out now as you scream and cry as much as your little body will allow.

"Why?" Mami asks," You let Bagheera sleep in bed with you."

"My Bagheera!" You say through your tears.

Mami tries to go to soothe you but you shriek again and hide behind Ingrid because she doesn't want this new baby either and she won't betray you like Mami is.

"Si," Mami says," Your Bagheera. But you love Bagheera a lot."

You nod.

"Don't you want to have another friend to play with?"

You shake your head. "No! No new baby! Just me!"

Mami looks at you strangely. "I know," She says," You're the only baby we'll have. We know that."

It's your turn to look strange at Mami now and you peek out from behind Ingrid's leg to look at her. You sniffle. "Why're you askin' for another one if you know it's just me?"

Mami laughs slightly, a smiling tugging at her lips. "I'm sorry, cub. I should have been more clear."

"Mapi," Ingrid says warningly," No."

"Oh come on, it'll be good for her. It'll teach her responsibility."

You frown. "What will?"

"I've been thinking." Mami eases down to your height. "You're a big girl now and you love Bagheera a lot but she's technically Mami's, right?"

You nod.

"Well, how about we get you a kitten for yourself? Wouldn't that be fun?"

"Mapi!"

You nod quickly and Mami smiles.

"Well," She says," You just have to convince Ingrid. Because she's the boss, remember?"

[fuzzandfeathers]

Rambles about portraits and Octavia

So I spent a lot of time staring at this shot while I was working on art

Especially the portraits (even though I didn't draw them) and there was one in particular that really caught my eye:

This is a bit long so I'll stick my thoughts under the cut:

This portrait fascinated me because I couldn't recall seeing one like it anywhere else. We rarely (maybe never? I'm not sure) get portraits of Stolas and Stella together without Octavia and this one stuck out to me because of the posing - Stella is full-on leaning into Stolas's space, and it's often tough for me to tell when Stella is genuinely smiling with her beak, but there's unmistakable joy on her face (and poor Stolas looking so uncomfortable). At first I almost wondered if this was meant to be an indication of Stolas trying harder to fit into a mold early in their marriage, be more like the type of Prince and husband Stella expected (and that might still be the case to a degree). But then I remembered we're actually in Octavia's mind/songscape, so these portraits more likely reflect how she sees her family. These could represent what she wants her family to be, but... I kinda wonder if instead they show what Octavia thought her family already was. We know from The Circus that Stella's mistreatment of Stolas was happening before he met Blitz. But I don't think Octavia knew. In Loo-Loo Land, Stella and Stolas are making no efforts to hide their dysfunctional marriage from her, but some of her statements later in the episode when she's having her heart-to-heart with Stolas ("Home doesn't even feel like home anymore, you ruined it." "When I was a kid and my parents didn't hate each other...") to me indicate that this dysfunction is somewhat new to her, a regular occurrence by that episode (as she doesn't bat an eye at the thrown plant), but not a long-term thing that she's accustomed to, and she immediately connects it with her father flirting with Blitz. I wonder if Stolas was actually doing a great job at hiding the cracks in his marriage - until Blitz came into the picture and suddenly he lost his grip on the facade. It would certainly help explain why Octavia repeatedly pins blame on Blitz, specifically, for their issues and why she's not as quick to place blame on her mother - from her perspective everything might've been fine until her father cheated, and her mothers aggression comes across as legitimate upset instead of long-term abuse. No idea how true any of this is, just some possibilities I was mulling over! Either way she and Stolas desperately need an honest conversation 😭

[heliza24]

Thoughts about Domesticity, Carework, and the American Dream in episode 2.5 of Interview with the Vampire

I’ve been mulling over episode 2.5 a lot. There was so much to love in the episode (the incredible writing, the kitchen sink off Broadway play of it all, the chemistry between Luke, Jacob and Assad, the vulnerability in Eric’s performance). But my mind keeps circling a couple of themes, trying to piece them together. So as usual I’m here on tumblr to try to work it out. 

I keep coming back to the way that Armand was gendered in this episode. His big complaint to Louis was that he was “home picking lint off the sofa”. He arrives with “mop and misery” to clean up the mess. Louis insults him by calling him “the good nurse”. All those things are feminized. They’re also extremely of the era; these are Feminine Mystique, mid-century housewife type complaints. The wife’s job is to make the husband’s life smooth and never worry about her own happiness. Obviously in the 1970s we’re seeing this begin to change thanks to second wave feminism. We’re in the process of trying to ratify the ERA, Ms. magazine has just been founded, and things are shifting. The kind of cheery domestic American dream of the 1950s is definitely shifting, and we see this in the episode as well. Betty Hutton selling sewing machines competes with Spiro Agnew resigning on TV. The watergate scandal signified a loss of faith in American authority, a kind of parallel destruction of the country’s father figure (brought down by journalists, no less). The comfortable lie of domesticity, the “prison of empathy” that Armand has created around Louis is crumbling. Armand is boring but he’s also bored, like a housewife taking valium to get by. The whole episode is set in an apartment that reeks of divorce, according to Daniel, and we’re seeing it play out in real time. When Armand lashes out to hurt Louis, he does it not through direct violence, like Lestat, but by holding his failure as a father over him, telling him that Claudia  never loved him. That jab, in combination with the way he’s edited Louis’s memories (gaslighting, another time honored form of domestic abuse) is enough to get Louis to hurt himself. LIke a wife who is always outwardly obedient to her husband but spends her time exacting petty revenge against him for the way he takes her for granted, Armand’s methods are never violent. They are soft and subtle and targeted.

I have to thank @bluedalahorse for first alerting me to the way the crumbling domestic American dream is threaded through this episode. And after she mentioned it I saw it *everywhere*. 

Obviously there is a level of complexity here in the Loumand relationship that this metaphor cannot fully capture. For one thing, Armand is a man. He was turned in a time before modern understanding of gender and sexuality really solidified, so in some way it makes sense that he would be the most gender fluid of our main characters, but his position would be a lot different if he were a woman, even a woman vampire. And Armand is very powerful. His insecurities and crippling fear of being alone keep him from exercising this power and walking away in a way that would perhaps be healthier for both him and Louis. But he is not trapped economically or socially in the way a wife would have been in this era. (That being said, I get the sense that *something* about the way the fire happened in Paris has made Louis and Armand go to ground. Maybe there is an element of being “trapped together because of fear of exposure”. But even then, I think my point still stands.)

To drill down and become more specific, there’s an extra added layer to the way Armand is feminized in this episode. I’ve written a lot about disability in this show and also the way it approaches eugenics, and those things were very on my mind as I rewatched this episode. (To be fair, they are always on my mind when I watch anything. Being disabled will do that to you.) Anyway, the specific way that Armand casts himself in this episode is as a caregiver. He is a beleaguered, bitter caregiver to those weaker to him. I think you hear this especially when he describes to Louis what happened: “you said the worst things you ever said to me, and then you walked into the sun. And now you are a convalescent.” The absolute sneer on the word convalescent.  The absolute disdain for being put in this position again. The way he denies Louis the blood and keeps him out of his coffin for so long. The “final act of service” in calling Lestat. And then the tenderness laced with fear. Will he “be on suicide watch for the next 1000 years?”. 

Armand is fascinating to me because of the way he seems to instinctively reject people who remind him of his own past weaknesses. Those weaknesses are buried down deep in his characterization, but they’re there and they’re important. He was sick and wasting away when he was turned. And before that he was an abused sex worker. You can see the way he dismisses people in similar situations in the way he treats Daniel in this episode. He calls Daniel a “broken boy” when he’s talking to Louis. He casually rejects the idea that there might be any sort of truth captured in Daniel’s tapes. The interviews on those tapes are with a sex worker and gay veteran and his disabled refugee husband. All of these people are so close to Armand in so many ways. I even think this is why Armand comes down so hard on Claudia, and why he cannot abide the true empathy and love Louis has for her. Claudia was turned when her body was weak. Weaker and more disabled, so to speak, than Armand. But they are not dissimilar. But Louis loves Claudia anyway, and respects her strengths. No one ever shown the love Louis shows to Claudia to Armand. No one ever granted him true empathy. The only way he has been able to hold on to any love at all is to grovel, to manage, to care give. The only way he experiences care is to give it. Of course he’s broken, of course he’s bitter.

So now we come to Daniel. The broken boy who has suicidal ideation and a drug problem, things that make him imminently dismissable in Armand’s mind. But Daniel also has a drive, a passion for life, and a love for the people who slip through the cracks. Louis and Daniel definitely share this great affection for humanity, and it’s what allows them to connect in San Francisco and again in Dubai. And it’s what makes him inscrutable, and captivating, to Armand. Because there really is no greater act of service than telling somebody’s story. Daniel describes himself as a therapist ironically in Dubai, but what he’s doing is carework. It’s real empathy. And Armand doesn’t understand that. Armand doesn’t understand what someone is doing recording the stories of people who were just like him. A whole universe of possibilities opens in the moment when Armand almost starts telling Daniel his story. Out of all the ways Daniel tries to save himself, that little life line of empathy is what almost snags Armand. But then Armand clamps back down, realizes he’s staring into a “black hole”. He’s trying to insult Daniel when he says that, but to me it just sounds like he’s describing himself.

When Armand is lulling Daniel into death, the thing he chooses to describe to him is the American domestic fantasy. He describes it as a fate worse than death. He describes it as a boring trap. And he specifically casts Daniel in the masculine, straight role in that fantasy, with a wife “vacuuming on valium” who “counts down his thrusts”. In some ways Armand is painting his own relationship to Louis as the worst possible fate that Daniel could suffer. (And it makes me wonder– did Armand ever wonder if he would amount to anything? Does he think his life has any meaning at all, if you subtract the vampiric powers? Armand has never stopped to introspect like this, but I wonder what would happen if you forced him to.)

But Daniel is stubborn, and his desire to tell stories and empathize with people resists death. I love that he still defends himself, still claims that he’s “a bright young reporter with a point of view” and that that is worth something. Because it is.

When Louis asks Armand to save Daniel, Daniel unwittingly becomes a symbol of Louis and Armand’s continued marriage. He’s a wedding ring, a vows renewal. He’s emblematic of the continuation of failing vampiric domesticity. And when Louis tries to repair the damage Armand has wrought, he isn’t able to offer Daniel soothing words about his ability to find a spouse or raise children or understand love. Louis doesn’t understand those things, so how could he teach Daniel about them? But Louis has always understood stories and humanity, so he is able to gift Daniel his writing and his reporting back. 

I think you can interpret Daniel’s failed marriages and difficult relationship with his children in a lot of ways. We could say that he was always going to fail at these things, regardless of whether or not he met the vampires, because of the discontent that Armand sensed in him. Maybe the trauma that this aborted gay hookup with Louis created was enough to re-closet him, and send him down a dark road of unfulfilled straight relationships. Or maybe Armand’s words really did echo around in his head and pull him down as much as Louis’s lingered and sustained him over the years. Maybe we’ll get more answers about this as the show goes on, or maybe it will live in the ambiguous world of memory and manipulation the show so often plays in.

Regardless, I think this episode was a masterpiece, and the way it firmly established these themes about the failure of domesticity and the burden and joys of carework are going to really matter, I think, as we hit the brutal conclusion of the season. When emotions are at a breaking point, especially between Armand and Louis, they are going to resonate because they were grounded in this little claustrophobic wonder of an episode.

As a little postscript, I’m not quite sure where we’re going with Devil’s Minion after this episode, or if we’re even going there at all. If a DM timeline happened in the past, it would require additional editing of Daniel’s memory, and I’m not quite sure if that reveal would work structurally. (I would love to be proven wrong about this though, because I would love for young Daniel and Armand to have interacted more, for Assad and Luke’s chemistry if nothing else. They were so wonderful together.)  If it were to happen in Dubai, or to happen again Dubai, however… well that’s interesting. Because older Daniel is disabled. He’s even more firmly in this category of people that Armand is apt to dismiss. And if they were to get together, there would probably be some aspect of caregiving on Armand’s part. And there would also be some caregiving on Daniel’s part, in his ability to listen to Armand. So that has the potential to be really fascinating, and maybe mutually beneficial to both characters. But I think we have to cover a lot of ground before we would be able to get there.

[soleminisanction]

Hi! I just read your thoughts on Robin and Damian and how his addition to the canon may have changed the reader's perspective on what Robin actually means.

You keep mentioning like, "Robin" adventures/stories and how Damian doesn't really have any? Aside from maybe Juni Ba's comic which I gotta admit is one of my favorites.

Would you mind explaining what exactly makes a Robin story a Robin story in your eyes?

I had to mull over the answer to this one for a bit, because it's a little hard to put into words. And I'm glad I did 'cause I wrote a whole like, 700 word post, mulled it over, decided it didn't really answer your question, and rewrote it better. And longer. This is so long. I hope it makes sense.

--

So, there's two answers to this question, one of which is obvious but doesn't happen very often -- and honestly probably shouldn't -- and the other of which requires me to explain another piece of the private meta-crafting that's been haunting my mind palace.

The obvious answer is: A Robin story is a story about being Robin. That is, a story which explores or interrogates either the purpose/nature of Robin as a role/legacy, or the relationship the character currently using said mantle has with that role/legacy. The Boy Wonder is a prime example, as it's fundamentally about Damian coming into his own as Robin by learning from his predecessors and drawing on their collective strength to overcome his personal demons, both internal and external.

Compare that version of the story to, say, the Son of Batman movie, which draws from the same time period and source material, but you can tell from the names alone that the focus is completely different. Robin in that movie is just a token thing, arbitrarily given to Damian to "teach him discipline," while all the real narrative focus goes to the drama around his parentage and the League. Hell, Nightwing's only really there as a hook to the main villain, Deathstroke.

Or consider that one obnoxious storyline from the New 52 where Damian sets up "fights" with the older boys. That also could've been about genuinely testing Damian's values against those who had come before, but instead it was mostly just a series of one-sided Reddit arguments where he destroys his opponents with Facts™ and Logic™ to prove he's the Specialist of the Special Boys and then Nightwing crowns him the Once and Future Robin. Robin, in that context, is just a prize to bolster Damian's self-image.

It's not that Damian couldn't have this kind of Robin story. Obviously not, The Boy Wonder is a thing, and fantastic precisely because it feels like something Damian has needed for a long, long time. But when you compare that one admittedly stellar offering to Tim's career -- built on a foundation of these kinds of stories and then sprinkling more of them throughout his 26-36 years (depending on how you count) -- or even to the handful that Jason got in his 5 active years, plus those that Dick got in the years right before the Nightwing transition and the flashback stories both of the later two have gotten since... it's a noticeable absence.

But. The vast majority of Damian's writers are clearly not interested in exploring that particular angle with him. They are, at the best of times, too enamored with the Son of the Bat or, at the worst, too enamored with Damian himself and how cool/edgy/badass they can make him seem.

And the thing is, like I said at the top, you do not want every Robin-leading story to be one of these naval gazing "what does it mean" stories. That would get tedious real quick, like how every new Batman writer feels the need to do their Grand Treatise on What It Means to Be Batman. But you need some of it, especially for a character like Damian, because of answer number two.

--

The second answer to your question is: A Robin story is a story in which the main character fulfills the role of Robin. And this is the one that's kinda nebulous and hard to define, because it means a lot of things. There's a certain amount of vibes to it, a level of "if you know it, you know it when you see it." So, here's where I need to bring in one of my other ideas.

DC has pretty much settled on six “core Robins,” five from the mainstream universe, one Elseworld. They’re the ones featured in the big anniversary cover that now serves as the article illustration on Wikipedia (even if it is bullshit that they gave Jason pants).

Now, I personally maintain that you can further sub-divide these six into two even groups: the iconic Robins (Dick, Tim and Carrie) and the idiosyncratic Robins (Jason, Steph, and Damian). Idiosyncratic (for those unfamiliar with the $10 word) simply meaning: unique, out-of-the-ordinary, and individual. They go against the grain, and that grain is set by the icons.

I don’t think anyone’s going to fight me on the idea that Dick is an iconic Robin, given that he is the original that the whole legacy split off from. Tim, meanwhile, is the character who not only ensured that the legacy would endure past the Dark Ages attempt to wipe it out, he’s the one who defined what the legacy meant separate from Dick and made it modern—if you have any pop culture conception of “what it means to be Robin” beyond short pants, pixie boots, and “Holy catchphrase, Batman!” it almost certainly came from Tim. Between the two of them, they've been active as Robin for 80% of Robin's 85-year career -- 50% Dick, 30% Tim. (Damian is sitting at 19% -- these totals will not add up to 100% because of career overlap.)

It is safe to say that the two of them pretty much define what it means to be Robin, and this follows with the way they often get used in the other Robins' stories as proxies for the role of Robin itself. (See: their portrayals in The Boy Wonder compared with Jason's, and basically everything Jason did to Dick and Tim during his villain era.)

(As for Carrie, I include her in this group because if you can read around the mild clusterfuck that is the DKR universe, she serves a role in that story very similar to the one Tim does in the mainstream universe, even while she’s bouncing between all the same legacy codenames and costumes that Steph has worn and also Catgirl and Batman.)

The idiosyncratic Robins, on the other hand, are those who deliberately break the mold in one way or another. This is not a criticism or a bad thing. Like shading in a drawing, the contrast between the icon and the idiosyncratic adds depth and complexity to the legacy -- think, the contrast between Clark, Kara and Jon vs. Kon, Linda and Chris, or Hal Jordan and Jon Stewart vs. Guy Gardner and Kyle Rainer. Or heck, Barbara vs. Cass.

But. This means that, by definition and design, the idiosyncratic Robins are in contrast with the role they're being written to fill. Think about how easy it is to tell when a writer is writing "Robin classic" instead of Damian, because of how completely out of character he is -- like in Batman Ninja. With Jason it's less obvious but if it goes on long enough you'd start to notice that he's missing his rough edges (as he often is in fan fictions). This should also be the case with Steph, like in all of her WFA flashbacks, but people don't like to acknowledge how much she's been tokenized and bowdlerized over the years.

With Dick and Tim though? They slip into Robin's role in any story perfectly, no matter how unfamiliar the writer might be with their specific character, precisely because they're in the iconic mold. This does not mean they are generic, because Robin does have a role in the narrative and certain set traits -- confident but not arrogant, witty but kind, capable but still vulnerable enough to need Batman's protection sometimes, a certain level of general optimism and youthful naivete, etc.

In short, the role of Robin is a specific narrative niche that Dick and Tim (and Carrie) slip into easily because Dick created it, and Tim and Carrie designed specifically to fill it. Jason and Damian were created in contrast and conversation with it (Steph is another story entirely) and thus do not fill the role as easily, with Damian in particular being such a stark contrast that he borders on being the anti-Robin.

--

Again though, this could still work if Damian had more of the first kind of Robin story, the one that examines his relationship with the mantle. This is essentially how they make Cass work -- she's very different from Babs or any other interpretation of Batgirl who's come before or since. But she's also very aware of her legacy and often has stories about being in conversation with it, through her own self-reflection and also by playing off both Bruce and Barbara. Those stories, balanced with the ones exploring the unique aspects of her character, are what make her such a stand-out.

Damian really only gets stories exploring the unique aspects of his character, the Son of the Bat part. He doesn't get the stories he needs to ground him as Robin, to justify why he's squatting in a role that doesn't suit him and that he doesn't really fill in narrative sense. And while that would be fine if he wasn't in that role, as it is it's a bit of a sticking point for his character -- especially for people who actually, y'know, like Robin and don't really want to see those stories replaced with Son of the Bat stories. We can have both! I would personally prefer they be with separate characters, but still.

[wuucchoo]

Understanding Tsumiki and Megumi's relationship

Hey there! It's me, Megumi's defense attorney - here once more to defend my boy.

I've been seeing A LOT of people saying they cannot sympathize with Megumi's grief because they don't know Tsumiki that well. And although I would argue that you don't need to know the person who died for you to sympathize with the one who was left behind - I do understand what these people mean, i don't agree with them! But I understand why they think this. And yes, we dont know Tsumiki.

However, we first need to understand why gege chose to present Tsumiki this way. On a surface level, she can only be seen as 'the thing that would cause Megumi's downfall' - we dont know her thoughts, her ambitions, her real personality, anything really - except for what Megumi says about her. A 'textbook good person'.

And that's because she is a character that we were only able to see through someone else's eyes. We don't know Tsumiki, because Megumi doesn't know Tsumiki.

BUT WAIT!! What do I mean by that?

Before that though, I would like to say first! This doesn't mean that Megumi's love for her is diminished by this. Just because he doesn't know her doesn't mean he doesn't love her. Megumi cares about her more than anyone in his life, and that's a fact!

Now we can proceed! What does this mean? Let's look at this page from ch 56: origin of obedience:

This was a case that they have been investigating, and it is pretty damn close to Megumi's and Tsumiki's old school. And yet, the thought that Tsumiki might have went to the bridge with her classmates never crossed his mind. He doesnt know that Tsumiki is someone capable of breaking the rules, going against curfew, and joining her friends to go to a haunted bridge in the dead of night. This boy Megumi thinks his sister is a damn saint.

He put Tsumiki on a pedestal, and it resulted in her turning into nothing but the mold of a good person Megumi uses to judge other people. If a person is not Tsumiki-shaped, then they're not worth saving. ((Luckily for Yuuji, he IS Tsumiki-shaped lmao. But anyway!))

Truth be told, I used to think it sucks that we never knew Tsumiki outside of what Megumi says. I never felt bad when she died, I felt bad that Megumi's sister died. I felt bad FOR Megumi.

And now that I actually think on it, THAT was the exact point. We dont NEED to know Tsumiki, we only needed to see her through Megumi's eyes - and through that, understand that Megumi doesn't really know her that well.

It is something that Megumi have to mull over. Why did he keep Tsumiki at an arm's length despite how much he cares for her? Why is it so hard for him to let people in? Why is asking someone for help so difficult for him?

ITS BECAUSE OF THAT MFKER TOJI!!!! IM TELLING YA'LL!! /hj

Look at the face he was making in Toji's memory. That's a kid who shows his emotions outright. My boy is pouting (つ╥﹏╥)つ. But when Gojo met him, Megumi has become a total idgafker (at least on the outside). And thats not only because Gojo was a stranger - coz thats how he looks like when he talks to Tsumiki too. It's because he became that way when Toji left.

Anyway, my point is, due to Megumi's abandonment issues - he never let anyone in. EVER. Not even Tsumiki. Megumi put a wall between him and other people - for his own protection. The one who came a little bit close into breaking that wall is Yuuji (and we are yet to see how that goes).

And this is why, we as the readers are all detached from Tsumiki's character. Because we saw her through Megumi's eyes, who loves her and cares about her very, very much - yet despite that he never let her get too close. (っ- ‸ - ς)

If you read up to here, whats up! Thank you for reading! Feel free to counter it or anything, Im happy to discuss!

((also something to add: Megumi cares so much about Tsumiki because she's the first one who actively chose to stay - amidst all the people who left.

this was inspired by a great megumi character analysis i found on twitter:

read it if you have time! its really good!

[izumi-fanclub]

A3! Translation: Chikage SSR Card “Rouge Rose of Love” [Valentine’s Day Gossip]

How will Chikage deal with Valentine's Day this year? He receives a blessing and a curse of course.

Part 1

Chikage

Never thought I’d share lunch with Chigasaki.

Itaru

I mean, it’s just the pizza place if we’re looking at the big picture, that’s the only common link.

Pizza Shop Clerk

Thank you for waiting, here’s your parmesan and diavola.

Chikage

Thanks, diavola’s finally here.

Itaru

I’m surprised, I half expected it to look ridiculously red like some sort of challenge menu.

Chikage

Chigasaki-san, maybe you’re just not enough of a junkie?

Itaru

Ahaha, you’d be wrong.

Pizza Shop Clerk

Excuse me for interrupting your meal, but we’re passing out our new Chocolate Chunk pizza, would you like to sample them out?

Itaru

Hehh, looks good. Thanks for the food.

Pizza Shop Clerk

Thanks for your feedback! How about you, sir?

Chikage

Sorry but I’ll have to pass, my doctor told me to avoid sweets.

Pizza Shop Clerk

I see, I apologize. Please continue enjoying your meal.

Itaru

…Is that your new year’s excuse now?

Chikage

Whatever do you mean?

Itaru

It’s about to be Valentine’s soon.

Chikage

…Ahh, so that explains the chocolate on the new menu.

Itaru

That look on you, it definitely went over your head.

Chikage

Because I’m not interested.

Itaru

Senpai you might not be, but the female employees definitely are. I overheard them talking about giving out some love chocolate to a certain senior.

There used to be rumors of you having a fiancée, but they pretty much lost their status effect now.

You’ve gotten some before here and there too.

Chikage

Well, they say gossip stays around for about 75 days or so, someone out there probably thinks I’ve been married off silently.

Who am I to deny it, even.

Itaru

Come to think of it, you’re gonna go shopping with director-san today. Wouldn’t that be the perfect chance to get down on your knee?

Chikage

Kneeling in front of director-san in public would be too unfair to her.

…In any case, I feel guilty about pulling director-san into this mess, so I’ll try and think of something else.

Izumi

Wow, the star anises really have such a pretty shape to them!

Chikage

By the way, Tsuzuru said he’s gonna make fried rice tomorrow, buying this would make it more authentic, right?

Izumi

Hmm, that’s true but then again… they look so beautiful that it feels like such a waste.

Chikage

Then, how about we buy some cinnamon sticks and make some mulled wine?

Izumi

Sounds like a plan! Let’s go with that!

Spice Specialty Store Clerk

——Sorry to keep you waiting.

Regarding the spice you ordered, I checked and it seems like it’s gonna be delayed due to some logistics issues…

I apologize for not informing you in advance.

Chikage

No worries, so when can we expect to receive it?

Spice Specialty Store Clerk

I think you can get it in around 4 days.

Chikage

Four days from now… I have a meeting on that day, so I’m not sure if I’ll be able to make it before closing time.

Spice Specialty Store Clerk

I’m sincerely terribly sorry…!

Chikage

It’s fine, it’s not like we’re in a hurry. I’ll come by again on the weekend.

Izumi

Oh, well in that case, should I get it in your stead?

Chikage

You okay with that?

Izumi

Yup, I happen to have some errands nearby that day.

Chikage

Then please be my guest.

Izumi

Mhm, leave it to me!

Chikage

…Sorry, thank you as always.

Izumi

What’s wrong? You’re suddenly all serious…

Chikage

Nothing, just a lot on my mind.

Part 2

Tsumugi

…Whew, this mulled wine really hits the spot, it’s got some nice spices on it.

Citron

Gets me feeling all warm~

Azuma

The star anise adds a beautiful touch to it too.

Chikage

Director-san said the same thing too, so my suggestion on using it for fried rice was a no-go.

Azuma

Fufu, that makes sense. That’s definitely like her.

So, where’s the director at?

Chikage

Looks like the sleep got to her. To think she was the one who was looking forward to it the most.

Itaru

Sleeping this early is gonna mess up her sleep hygiene.

Azuma

Yeah, I received some chocolate that goes well with the alcohol, I wanted the director to try them out too.

Sakyo

You’ve got that pricey stuff on you again.

Banri

In a few days the place’s gonna get flooded with chocolate from everyone, so director-chan still got a chance to eat some.

Tsumugi

You’re right, Valentine’s is just around the corner.

Itaru

In other words, the overpowered senpai is gonna have his weakness revealed soon.

Chikage

This is a serious matter though.

Itaru

Just call it schadenfreude I guess.

Banri

Ain’t that old news?

Tasuku

So do you have any counter-measures in mind already?

Chikage

Nothing yet unfortunately.

Itaru

At lunch you turned down that chocolate pizza talking about some “My doctor told me not to eat it.” excuse.

Chikage

If I use that excuse at work, it’ll stir up a different kind of trouble.

Tsumugi

Hmm, then again it’s hard to come up with a reason to turn them down especially when it’s done out of the goodwill of the giver.

Chikage

But this year I got a full day’s worth of meetings scheduled so I think I can manage.

Banri

Oh, well that’s a relief.

Citron

It is no relief! Just a temporary solution! That will not do! The same troubles will appear again next year!

Itaru

…He’s being sensible for once.

Chikage

I forgot about it this year and couldn’t do anything so far, but next year I’ll be on a business trip.

Citron

No! That is still a temporary solution!

Banri

Feels like the issue’s just growing.

Citron

That is why we should practice rejection together!

Chikage

Practice rejection?

Azuma

Fufu, well isn’t this interesting.

Tasuku

That’s to be expected, honestly.

Itaru

…I’m not surprised anymore at this point, but still, why me?

Citron

But of course! This is a family matter for everyone!

Chikage

Sorry, Chigasaki.

Itaru

Nah, you don’t sound sorry at all. …Sigh, it’s a relief I got up and finished an event early.

Chikage

So Citron, we went all the way out in Veludo way, care to explain why that is?

Itaru

Yeah, you can practice rejection at the dorms.

Citron

That much is obvious. It is because we are actors! This is the only place to practice!

Chikage

That’s…

Itaru

Do you mean…

Citron

Frankly, a rejection etude! Yes!

Passerby A

Oh, isn’t that spring troupe?

Passerby B

It is! Think they’re up to doing a street act?

Chikage & Itaru

…

Itaru

…I’m not sure if I’m up for this.

Chikage

Let’s just get this over with.

Chikage & Itaru

…

Passerby A

…He’s looking at his phone, is he waiting for a notif?

Passerby B Maybe he’s checking the time.

Chikage

“Are you here to meet someone too?”

Itaru

“Eh?” Chikage

“I mean, isn't it Valentine's day?”

Itaru

“Yeah that’s true, some lady hit me up and told me to meet her here around 1pm.”

Chikage

“What a coincidence, I’m here for the same reason.”

“Whenever I get called out like this on Valentine’s Day, I get excited like some highschooler wondering what it’s for.”

Itaru

“Yeah, I get you. Me too.”

“Forgive me for prying but… have you decided on an answer yet?”

Chikage

“Hmm, I was thinking of turning down——”

Itaru

“Ehh, you too?”

Chikage

“So you’re in the same boat?”

Citron

“——Sorry, I was late!” Chikage & Itaru

“No, it’s fine——”

Chikage

“Ehh…”

Itaru

“Eh?”

Citron

“Eeh!? Chikage and Itaru, why are you both here…”

“...No way, silly me! I accidentally sent the message to both of you!”

Chikage & Itaru

“Huh…?”

Passerby A

… So basically, one of them’s the genuine one and the other is a backup?

Passerby B

Woah…

Chikage

“Um, Itaru-san, do you have a second?”

Itaru

“Yeah, of course. I was meaning to talk to you too.”

Chikage

“You can reject first.”

Itaru

“Eh, no way, that’d make me seem like the backup. You should be the first to actually say no.”

Chikage

“That’s gonna be a different story.”

Kanazuka

So this is Veludo Way. It’s my first time here, but there sure are a lot of people… Huh? Seems like there’s a crowd over there.

Chikage

“——I’m not giving up, even if I was just the second option, I can’t let it end like this!” Kanazuka

!? Is that Utsuki-san and Chigasaki-san from the company…!? This is unbelievable…!

Part 3

Chikage

Thanks for your hard work throughout the meeting.

Employee A

Great job as well. Ah, since it’s Valentine’s Day, I prepared some chocolate.

Employee B

This calls for tea time, then. I’ll go make some coffee. You drink coffee too, right, Utsuki-san?

Chikage

I——.

Employee A

Oops, I think Utsuki-san will get some from his girlfriend later.

Yeah, that’s right. Sorry about that, Utsuki-san.

Chikage

…? No it’s okay.

Then, I’ll take my leave.

Chikage

(If I head over there now, I think I can make it just in time for closing time. I wonder if I should contact director-san about how the spices are.)

Itaru

——Hey, senpai. You got a minute?

Chikage

Chigasaki?

Chikage

Is it something urgent? If it’s not, just tell me about it at home.

Itaru

Looks like the gossip hasn’t reached you yet.

Chikage

Gossip?

Itaru

Apparently, even though your fiancée is dating me now, there’s a rumor going around that you haven’t given up on her completely…

Chikage

…Hah?

Itaru

A co-worker saw that previous street act we did and mistook it for a fight between you and me.

Chikage

Street act…

You surely don’t mean the one where Citron pulled a bootcamp over dealing with “rejection”, right?

Itaru

That’s right, after all it wasn’t rehearsed at all and we ended up just going with the flow of Citron’s act.

Chikage

…So that explains it, is that why I felt a weird vibe during the meeting earlier?

Itaru

We’re actors, that’s understood by regulars of Veludo Way, but the co-worker that happened to witness it was someone unfamiliar with the whole concept.

Then the gossip mill jumped on the bandwagon and said stuff like “Maybe there’s some truth beneath the surface of that act.”

Chikage

Talk about a pain…

Itaru

You said it.

Chikage

(I kinda took advantage of that in the past, so I don’t really have the right to complain.)

Chikage

… Speaking of, what happened to the rumor that Chigasaki’s sister is my fiancée?

Itaru

I don’t know, I think they just assumed you’ve broken up.

Then, what do we do? Looks like senpai’s history with love is getting pretty complicated.

Chikage

Whatever, it’ll probably just die down soon anyway so I won’t do anything about it, I’ll just head home.

Besides, hanging around you like this might be counterproductive.

Itaru

True that. I’ll wrap up my overtime work and head home early too.

Chikage

(...Not sure if it’s the rumor’s effect or I’m just being overly conscious of it, but I didn’t get any chocolate at all.)

(...It could be better, but I guess it still works out in the end, that rumor will die down soon, and I’m sure the director——)

Izumi

Ah, Chikage-san!

Chikage

Director-san?

Izumi

I got to the store early and had some time so I thought of bringing it to you directly.

Chikage

That’s right, I was just thinking of telling you to meet there since I could make it before closing time, but…

I realized I completely forgot to do it.

Izumi

Really now? That’s pretty rare for you, Chikage-san.

Chikage

A bit of an unexpected issue came up.

Izumi

Good on you for dealing with it.

Chikage

… Director-san, are you in a good mood?

Izumi

Fufu, I just found something good, is all. Ah right, the spices, here you go.

Chikage

Thanks. You’re a huge help.

(... There’s a ribbon on it, is this part of the service?)

(From an outsider’s perspective, they’ll probably assume I’m receiving Valentine’s chocolate out of context.)

(Not sure if the director noticed, but I feel the gaze of people from the company around for a while now.)

Izumi

What’s up?

Chikage

Nothing, it’s just that it feels like a gift when it’s ribboned like this.

Izumi

It is… kind of a present.

Chikage

Present?

(There’s something else aside from the spices I asked her to pick up.)

Chikage

…Does this bottle also have spice?

[ Option 1: Open and see for yourself ] Izumi Open it and check it out. Chikage Right here? Izumi Is it not good here? Chikage That’s not the issue but… well I’ll just open it.

[ Option 2: It’s nothing suspicious ] Izumi Don’t worry, it’s not fishy or anything. Chikage Should I be concerned? Izumi No, I mean it! It really is just a gift. Chikage Well, as long as it’s director-san, I’ll believe it.

Chikage

…Chocolate?

Izumi

Yup, they’re spice seeds coated in chocolate, they were pretty good when I tried them out at the store!

I bought it thinking maybe Chikage-san could enjoy it too, it’s Valentine’s Day after all.

Chikage

…

Izumi

Oh, don’t worry about returning the favor, a tasty curry made with the spices would just be fine.

Chikage

(I didn’t mean to drag you into this again… I’m sure the gossip’s gonna get updated tomorrow.)

…It’s not my fault anymore, it’s the director’s.

Izumi

Hm?

Story Clear!

[hgfictionwriter]

Scattered

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: ADHD can be a lot to navigate, but Jessie embraces you, your ADHD and everything that comes with it.

A/N: Based on this request. This came a little too easily lol. Renews my empathy for my wife LOL. Bless her haha. And bless Jessie cause I bet she'd be just as thoughtful.

You lifted your head as motion in your periphery caught your eye. You took out your earbuds when you saw Jessie giving a quick wave from the doorway.

"Don't forget - we have to leave for dinner in an hour," she reminded you patiently. "I'm not saying you have to get ready now, we just need to be out the door at 5:30."

You looked at the clock and then gave her a nod. "Thank you."

She knew you were hyperfocused on something and if you had to abruptly stop you'd be in a foul mood. You'd learned that it helped when you had a wind-down period, so to speak.

You mapped out the time, making a mental note of when to pack up when you thought better of it and set a timer on your phone instead.

Before you knew it, your alarm went off, pulling you out of your trance. You sighed inwardly - you were on a roll and you didn't want to lose momentum. And it's not like you didn't want to go to dinner - you loved Sinc and Janine, but it still took effort for you to compartmentalize and get a move on.

You emerged from the office and looked around the apartment you shared with Jessie. She was sitting on the couch reading, but was dressed for dinner and you noted she had her things neatly laid out by the front door. She gave you a small smile and a wave.

"How'd it go?"

"Good," you said, somewhat distracted as you were trying to determine what you needed to do and in what order. "Thank you." You stopped yourself and returned her smile, now giving her your attention. "How's your book?"

"It's good, baby," she said with a light laugh before gesturing with a nod. "Go on. Get ready."

Jessie knew you well. She recognized what you were trying to do, but also understood that you needed to get sorted and moving if you were going to stay on schedule. She didn't take offense.

"Thanks," you said with a look that was both grateful and a bit shy. "I'll ask you more about it in the car."

Opening your closet, you already knew what you wanted to wear tonight, but a heavy frown fell across your face as you realized the shirt you had in mind was still in the laundry. You swore it was clean.

You sighed as you examined your other options. You eventually narrowed it down to two, your eyes darting back and forth several times. Would that shirt go with the pants you picked? Where were you going again for dinner? What did Jessie wear? Was it cold out? Jessie was in a t-shirt. But she's always warm. It was warm earlier. But it was going to be night, so... You eventually just tossed the one shirt back, forcing yourself to make a decision.

You checked the time and rushed into the bathroom to finish getting ready. You were doing your hair when your mind wandered and you remembered that you told Jessie earlier that you'd update the grocery list. You mulled it over. What were you doing this week? That would affect the list. You went to check your calendar but when you opened your phone you saw an email notification from this store you wanted to get Jessie a gift from.

You were putting in your shipping information when a brief rush of alarm went through you as you heard Jessie getting up. You looked at the time. Oh shit. Wait - what were you supposed to be doing?

A flurry of activity ensued as you worked to finish getting ready. You had to backtrack a couple of times because you'd just left something laying out in your wake. On a second pass through, you had to make a point of stopping to pick it up and put it away.

Before you and Jess moved in together, your apartment could've been described as organized chaos. Clusters of items here and there, but you knew where things were. For the most part. Jessie, however, was very neat and orderly. And you loved her desperately, so you tried to be very mindful of how you tended to leave mess and clutter. It took a little extra effort on your part, but if it helped Jessie feel more at ease and didn't make her feel like she had to pick up after you, it was absolutely worth it.

You rushed up to Jessie who was casually putting on her shoes at the front door. You were slightly out of breath from your zig-zagging through the apartment and she smiled at you affectionately.

"Right on time," she said with a nod of approval, gesturing to her watch and giving you a wink.

You exhaled. "Chaos."

She laughed and held out your jacket for you, prompting you to weave your arms through.

"Thank you," you said and leaned in to give her a quick kiss.

"Anytime," she said as she grabbed her things. She paused as you started patting your pockets and looking around.

"Phone?" She asked knowingly. You looked to her with a frown of concern and nodded. She rolled her eyes with a soft laugh and reached over to the side table. Your phone was on the corner.

"Oh, there it is," you said brightly with a laugh of your own. She reached around and tucked the phone into your back pocket, giving you a smirk and kissed your cheek as she pulled back.

"Oh, one last thing," you said, holding up your index finger. "I need to write it down before I forget." You quickly grabbed the notebook and fancy pen Jessie bought you previously (stationery was a past fixation of yours) and jotted down something on your to-do list. You clicked the pen and put the notebook aside, turning to her.

"Ready to go?" She asked, a smile still lingering.

You gave her a cheesy 'OK' gesture with your hand and winked. "All set."

"And you call me a dork," she joked.

"You love me."

"I certainly do."

There were many ways you knew Jessie loved you, but the fact that Jessie - who herself was very put together - navigated and embraced your quirks with patience and affection, told you she loved and understood you. Sure, you frustrated her now and then, but chances are those were times you were even more frustrated with yourself. She always talked things out with you or tried her best to make things easier. You adored and appreciated her for it.

She was one of the very few people you let your walls down around. The flurry she'd just witnessed is something most people would never see. At work - and previously in school - your reviews always said you were diligent, organized, and composed. And you were - but it came at a cost. By the time you got home every day, you used up all of your mental faculties to stay on top of things at work or with acquaintances. Home was your reprieve; you could recharge, relax and just be yourself.

As Jessie drove you both downtown, you began flipping through songs. Short, fleeting bursts of music filled the car before cutting to the next piece. While your attention was fixed on the console screen, you felt Jessie's eyes on you. "Which song are you looking for?"

"I'll know it when I hear it," you answered, eyes still transfixed on the changing song titles.

Jessie sighed wearily, but you spied the burgeoning smirk on her lips when you glanced over.

At dinner, your knee bounced incessantly up and down as you listened to Sinc and Janine speak. You hardly realized what you were doing until Jessie reached out a hand and gently placed it on your leg. You held her hand and played with her ring instead.

At one point, Sinc was sharing a story and it sparked a thought far off in your mind. You intermittently sat forward and back, waiting to speak - trying very conscientiously to not cut her off by interjecting. When you got your opening, you literally sat on the edge of your seat and began talking, waving your hands animatedly as you did.

You ended up on a couple of tangents, pausing momentarily with a frown before speaking. "Where was I going with this? Right. You mentioned Vancouver, which made me think of real estate, which led me to appliances. So Jessie and I..."

Jessie just chuckled and idly rubbed small circles on your lower back.

At some point, Jessie herself told an uncharacteristically convoluted story. Janine and Sinc were frowning at her in confusion, but you followed her train of thought easily. You reiterated it for her.

"I'm with you.” You gave her a charming smile. She turned to her teammates with a small, satisfied grin.

"She always gets me."

After dinner, the four of you went to meet up with other teammates at a bar. You hung out for a couple of hours, but between the socialization and a long week of meetings and masking, you felt your social battery drain. You started disassociating as people talked and you were having trouble focusing.

Jessie came by, sitting next to you and leaning in to be heard over the din of the crowd.

"You about ready to leave? I'm just about at my limit," she said. You gave her a grateful look.

"Are you sure? We don’t have to leave on account of me,” you tried to assure her. She grasped your hand, lacing your fingers together.

“Babe. I’m ready to go, too. Another 10 minutes? Then say bye to everyone?” She asked.

You leaned your head on her shoulder. “Thank you. I’m sorry I can’t handle more.” You felt her turn her head towards you.

“Baby. There’s nothing to apologize for.”

You lifted your head up to look at her. You’d had this conversation before but you still got in your head about it all and it was hard to stop.

“I just want to be the best partner for you. But sometimes I just get overwhelmed. And then I can’t function or interact the way I want to. And I probably talked too much at dinner. And about god knows what. I hope I didn’t embarrass you-”

Jessie held up her hands, gently coaxing you to stop.

“Baby. Please.” She smiled affectionately at you. “You’re doing it again,” she said with a soft laugh. “You were great tonight. You always are. I could never be embarrassed by you. I’m always so proud to have you with me.”

She tucked your hair behind your ear and went on. “We’re both at our limit. So, let’s finish up here. Can we cuddle when we get home?" She asked.

"That sounds amazing.”

A/N: Okay, y'all. This next part has nothing to do with Jflem, I just have to share this personal anecdote that just happened. The timing is too perfect considering I was writing this ADHD fic.

*Wife calls me while I'm driving and it sounds like she's crying*

"Are you okay???"

"Are you okay?"

"Huh?" My concern immediately shifts to confusion.

"Do you have everything you need in order to be successful today?" She asks in a very measured way.

Realization hits me immediately. I turn to the passenger seat and instead of seeing my work bag, I only see a pair of shoes. Shoes that I made great mental note of that morning to bring with me to the office. But no sign of my work bag that I packed that morning, alongside the idle musing of, "Wow, it would be so bad if I forgot my laptop."

By now, my wife is cackling. She wasn't crying at all when she called, she was trying her hardest not to laugh.

I'm 25 minutes into a 30 minute drive.

"Can you make it work without your bag somehow?" My wife asks amongst her ongoing laughter.

"It has my laptop. My pass. My wallet. Everything. Guess I'm coming back home!"

We're killing ourselves laughing at this point.

"Okay, well, I'll see you soon. Don't get pulled over!"

ADHD struggles are real, folks lol.

[nausicaaandhermouth]

Viktor Headcannons

accumulated over some time, and i wanted to fit these into my fic but alas not all of them can 😔 this is a mix of some that didn't make it and me just being unable to think about literally anything else

As far as he was concerned growing up, very few plants had tolerable smells, much less nice smells - so moving to topside and smelling lots of nice plants was a pleasant surprise. because of this, when he’d spend time outside or eat out, he’d sit by a bush with flowers, and also keeps mint on his desk.

He keeps replacing the mint because the lab doesn’t have enough sunlight for it, so it’s constantly overwatered and gets root rot, and he’d rather keep buying it over and over again than do without it, since he spends most of his time in the lab

After moving to topside, he started loving thunderstorms, specifically watching the lightning strike. one time it sent him down a rabbit hole of studying how and why it occurs.

He has a collection of well-worn books on various sciences, with handwritten notes filling the margins like commentary and having a conversation with the text. From in depth notes that expand on the text to just “???” or “what”

He has two kinds of handwriting: the 'assistant’ handwriting, where it’s more organised, legible, made specifically for others to read, made up when he started working for heimerdinger. the 2nd handwriting is more personal, careless, more scratches than ‘writing’, where he abbreviates commonly used words into symbols, so it has a tendency to look vaguely mathematical but also deranged

He dog-ears the academic papers and textbooks that he doesn’t like. If it’s particularly offending, he cuts them up and turns them into bookmarks to use for the textbooks and papers he does like.

When he finds his hand randomly doodling, more often than not it’s vaguely the shape of his mother’s face.

He has a favourite mug that he always uses for his coffee, believing it somehow makes the coffee taste better. If not that mug, then he’s willing to drink out of a paper cup, believing they have an “impartiality” to them.

He has a secret fondness for classical music, often listening to it while working to help him focus. Specifically the angry sounding ones, the full orchestral madness that denotes rage and chaos.

He doesn’t mind children, but just doesn't like when people ask a lot of questions and have little sense of boundaries, which he finds are often children. He likes the inquisitive ones, the silently-mulling-things-over-mentally kind of kids, and likes to think that if he had any then that would be the kind he’d raise.

He has a collection of vintage fountain pens he splurged that he swears he’ll use one day, but in truth he likes them too much to use them. He now knows an odd amount of information about fountain pens, kinds of ink, and how to make fountain pens.

He finds peace in the repetitive motion of polishing his inventions, often losing track of time while doing so. His arms have gotten slightly more muscly over the years because of this

His gaze lingers lovingly at the moles on his neck and arms, knowing he'd gotten some of them from his mother and that for as long as he lives, she will always be with him.

He enjoys the texture of different fabrics and often runs his fingers over various materials while deep in thought, so has a soft spot for quilted things and has bought a bunch of quilted blankets.

He has a habit of talking to his inventions as he works on them, as if encouraging them to function properly.

[ushiko]

Hihi! I'm not sure if your requests are open and if you still write for Kuroko No Basket but can you do love triangle between Kise, Aomine and Reader? Like reader is Kaijo's manager and she easily gained Kise's respect due to how smart she was, plus it'd be nice of she's skilled in basketball too. And Kaijo and Too Academy practice together for about a month and they have to stay at same place and that's where Aomine meets reader, who he found to be his type. Three of them interact a LOT so Kise and Aomine found out that they both, in fact, have feelings for the same girl so they try to impress her? I'm sorry if this too specific😭pls take your time<3

you wanna piece of me?

pairings: kise x gn! reader, aomine x gn! reader

word count: 2.3k

author note: please be nice to me on this! this is the first thing I have written in over a year so I am trying my best. its not my best work but I hope you enjoy this anon!

the smell of sweet and cheap cologne filled the gym since the boys believed spraying on cologne could mask the body odor coming off their bodies. it was pungent on your nose but you didn't mind it. watching them play and run across the court was always mesmerizing. you much rather be on the court than stuck to the sidelines picking up basketballs or filling up water bottles but a knee injury at the end of your middle school year stopped you from playing anymore. your eyes followed the three-point throw made by Kise Ryouta as he smoothly shot it in with a bright smile on his face. he looked so effortless as he was shooting. he was one of a kind.

"(y/n)-chan did you see my shot?1" he yelled across the court.

you giggle, " yes kise. i saw it though you could've had better foot movement towards the line before your shot. You almost didn't make it."

a small pout forms on his lips," why can't you just celebrate my shot!? i made it in at least."

he walks closer to me as everyone decides to take a small break for a breather. his golden hair shined bright under the dingy gym lights almost like a halo circling his head. he walked over with a skip in his step as he grabbed the bottle in your head to take a long sip.

"you did make it but still it could have been better," you state as he places the bottle back in your outstretched hand.

he groans," you know, you are way too smart for your own good. should be your own coach at this point like Riko! but then i would lose you and i can't have that."

a warmth flows through your heart to your face as you mull over his words. you didn't think that he would care so much for your opinion as a manager as you were just a simple manager with a lost basketball career.

"well, thank you, kise. but don't worry i am not going anywhere. you will still have my critiques on your dunks and dribbling till third year."

"hey! i am working on my dribbling. it is getting better."

"are you sure about that? last time i saw you dribble it was trash."

a loud, mocking voice echoed into the gym as the door swung open letting in the bright light from outside into the gym.

"Aomine, what are you doing here?!" kise screeched.

"did you forget that we are training for Too for a month while their gym is being repaired?" you remind Kise.

"huh!!? no i don't because i would have heavily objected to this!"

"i told you last week kise during lunch, were you not listening to me?" you question him as he turns towards you with a raised brow.

"i swear i was listening!"

you raise your own brow," are you sure or were you to busy listening to Tabio talk about his new gaming consle,?"

kise stutters as he runs his hands roughly through his hair as his teammates begin cackling behind you.

"i don't know who you are but i like you," aomine laughs as he wraps a arm around your shoulder.

you jump as you feel his skin touch your shoulder which makes you eye the hand hanging off your shoulder. your eyes shift up to meet his as a smirk lays across his face.

"hey! hands off!"

kise grabs your hand and pulls you towards him with his own two arms wrapping around your shoulders. this was too much touching for your liking as you slowly moved kise's arms off of you.

"listen, lets just get started on practice. we all still have to get home and do school work, okay?" you calmly state to everyone as they all nod and begin to head back to the court.

aomine and kise were standing glaring at each other with each of their chests puffed out. you roll your eyes and sigh as you watch the two continue to get closer to one another till they are face to face.

"stay away from her!"

"hey! don't say that, i can defend for myself, kise!"

kise looks at me with puppy eyes, " i am protecting you from this heathen. he is not to be trusted."

aomine laughed loudly while rolling his eyes at kise.

"shut your damn mouth, kise."

aomine turns towards your with that same sly smirk on his lips. you couldn't deny aomine was an attractive man but you knew his reputation. he was rude and ruthless especially on the court. you enjoyed his way of playing when he was actually on the court.

"watch me play, sweetheart. i am ten times better than that loser," aomine whispers to you as he knocks a little on your cheek.

with that he shuffled to the court, with your eyes on him, he sent a small wink before turning back to his team.

"do not fall for his shit! he is no good!" kise exclaims while covering your eyes with his hand. you shove his hand off your face and laugh.

"then prove me wrong kise. he just said that he is ten times better than you," you chide as you can see the steam almost come out of his ears.

he puffed out his chest," you got it, (y/n)-chan. i am going to prove to you that i way better than him!"

with that he runs quickly to the court, as the two teams begin having a practice game. aomine and kise both face of with each other for most of the game. it was mesmerizing to watch them play against each other and push each other to their best abilities. you had never seen kise play so hard during practice. it was not hard to see that kise was pushing himself to the edge to keep up with aomine and his plays.

once the game ended, both were breathing heavily with their hands placed tightly on their knees. you began cleaning up as practice was wrapping up and you wanted to get home quickly for dinner.

"so, what did you think?"

you turn quickly to see kise and aomine standing there like children waiting for their prize. you eye them eerily and say," you both played very well. but there could be improvements."

"huh?!" they both screech through the now mostly empty gym.

"you both have stuff you can work on. like kise, your foot work can be quicker and aomine you need to work on giving other people the ball when you don't have an available shot. no one likes a ball hogger."

you continue to clean the gym as they stood silently which was a first since kise usually filled the air during this time while helping you clean on most days.

"but if you had to pick one, who played better?" kise asks while following you around through out the gym.

you shrug your shoulders, " i think you played equally well. no one played better than the other."

"but if you had to pic-"

"kise," you laugh," you played well and aomine played well. lets just clean up and head home."

you walk away from both of them, leaving them standing alone on the court.

///

"stay away from her," kise firmly states while facing aomine.

aomine smirks, " why? are you two together or something?"

kise knows a blush his on his cheeks as he felt a rush of heat hit his body. he has liked you for a long time but would never admit to it. you were too good for him, too good for this world. you deserve better than some guy like him who already has reputation as a womaizer even though he is the furthest from it.

"that is none of your business. just stay away from her."

kise knew from the start that he felt something special for you. when you met you on his first practice with his new team, your bright smile made his heart soar and beat in a way he couldn’t explain. he wouldn’t let some player, especially aomine, take you away and break your heart. He wanted to protect you but only wanted you to himself.

aomine chuckles while moving closer to kise till their eyes were level with one another.

"i think she gets to decide that. plus, i like seeing you so flustered over her. i think i want to see how far this goes."

with those final words, aomine walks away with a loud cackle and patting kise's shoulder.

"let the game begin!" aomine yells as he walks out the door with a loud bang.

kise groans while messily running his hand through his hair.

this is going to be a long month.

///

this month could not wrap up fast enough. kise and aomine were in a fight about every day who was better at shots, dribbles, and even foot movements. they were in some competition and at this point, everyone was sick of it. especially you.

every time they wrapped up practice, they would come sprinting up to you to grill you on who you believed played better. you would always just answer the same way the first time that each played each other. they played equal to their abilities. neither one was better than the other.

the competition eventually led to places outside the court especially when we went out for dinner. they compete against each other to see who can down the most bowls or eat the most plates. though both eventually end up so sick that they almost miss practice. as much as these two gave you the biggest migraines that you have experienced, you will miss their shenanigans when aomine goes back to his own school.

he had a reputation as a all around bad boy who did not care about anyone or anything. but he was far from it. he was fairly sweet to those he was closest to but just didn't know how to express it in the greatest way. he often helped you pick up the gym after practice was over even though you knew he wanted to get dressed and clean before he headed home. he would ignore your protest and help you pick up all the trash, balls, and towels left behind. plus, you loved watching the dynamic between kise and aomine grow.

when it was just you three in the gym, you got to see them work together and collaborate to make certain plays and even teach each other how to be better players. watching them laugh and play together made you imagine what they were like with each other in middle school playing together. you giggled as you watch them bicker over the smallest thing.

"so last day of practice together, what is going to the last match up going to be?"

they glance at each other quickly while you watch a slick smile cross both of their faces. oh no, they are up to no good.

"well, we were thinking of trying something different this time," kise says nonchalantly.

"and what you that be?" you quiz them with a raised brow.

"we are going to compete for ...a date with you," aomine states firmly.

you stare at them both widely as the smirk on their faces turn into wide smiles. there is no way both of them wanted to have a date with you.

"a date with me?" you shyly ask pointing at yourself.

kise and aomine shrug and nod their heads.

"look, we were talking with one another and realized that we both liked you and we want to leave it up to you to decide who you want to date. but we thought it might be fair if we each took you out, make it fair, you know," kise explains.

you slowly nod, "okay...um, thank you but why me?"

"what do you mean, why you? why not you?" aomine firmly asks.

"i mean that you guys could have any girls in school and you want me? or you sure this is just not one of your stupid competitions to see who wins and then once one of you wins, you'll leave me in the dust. i don't want to be part of some silly game."

they both shake their head frantically and take steps towards you. you began to feel yourself curl in as the heart in your chest was pounding louder than when you played. your head swirled with too many thoughts and emotions to even process in this moment.

"that is not what this is at all. we would never do that to you. i would never do that to you," kise firmly states.

"right. that's not the kind of game we want to play," aomine agrees.

you nod slowly. this was too much. it was the last thing you expected. looking into their eyes you knew that they were telling the truth. they never would hurt you but were you even sure that you liked them in that way? kise has been your friend since you became a manager and you have had some mixed feelings about him but seeing him flirting with multiple girls did not help the confusion in your mind. aomine you only met a month ago but you did have a lot of fun with him and enjoyed his presence. he was sweeter, kind, and more compassionate than you could have imagined. you could feel the migraine coming on as you stood in front of them in the dead of the gym silence.

"I don't know what to do," you whisper, " this is too much. i have to go."

you run quickly to the door as they shout your name behind you. you felt dizzy and every limb felt numb.

are they lying? is it really just a game to them?

or are they telling the truth? do they genuinely like you?

this was more complicated than any basketball game you have ever played.

what should you do?

tbh i am not sure if i should keep going on this maybe in like separate parts where you only choose one or maybe go poly ???

i need opinions because i could just leave it up to your choosing. let me know!

✿ ushiko ; do not steal, copy, or plagiarize my work

reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated!!