#so many things that i thought were obvious to straight people are apparently not

[hellfiremunsonn]

Desperate. Joseph Quinn x Reader

Desperate.

I DO NOT ALLOW MY WRITING TO BE REPUBLISHED ANYWHERE OTHER THAN MY OWN BLOG WITHOUT MY CONSENT

Summary: Attending the premier of Josephs new film Hoard, you get a little needy seeing him in his element, so you take matters into your own hands... literally.

18 + IF YOU ARE NOT 18 OR OLDER DO NOT READ OR INTERACT WITH MY WRITING. IT IS NOT INTENDED FOR MINORS. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME.

Warnings: fem!reader, reader has a vagina, established relationship, Josephs a bit dom, praise, pet names (baby, babe, dove, little thing) swearing, dirty talk I guess? suggestive. (IF THERES ANYTHING I MISSED LET ME KNOW)

AN: apparently I'm still capable of writing! Who knew! Hope you guys like it. NOT PROOF READ

Wordcount: 1k

You were antsy, but you always were when you attended these premier with Joe. No matter how big or small, your nerves were always amped up to 100 and although Joe claimed to be as nervous as you, you could never tell with how perfectly he handled it all. 

Smiles and laughs, cracking jokes, the man could have everyone swooning over him in the matter of seconds. It came so effortlessly to him, and it was an honour to watch. 

Your hand clung tightly to the back of his black button up, posing for pictures with him, smiling towards the many shouting photographers with their flashing cameras. Josephs hand firm on your hip, a grounding sentiment to help with the nerves. 

When you stepped away so Joseph and his costars could get photographed together you felt your heart squeeze watching them all together. You also wanted to bite Joseph for how goddamn good he looked. With that stupid watch you helped pick out, snug on his wrist. You didn't know why it was such a turn on, but it was, and later when he was taking pictures with Laura Lightfoot Leon, while wearing that cream coloured jumper, with his curly hair and goofy smile, you thought you might explode if you didn't have him soon. 

Joseph can tell something is up, he's watching you shift your weight from foot to foot, legs crossing over each other but he can't decipher what's got you so fidgety. When he finishes taking pictures he saunters back over to you, sliding his sunglasses up onto his head, a lazy smile on his face and you had to fight the urge moan at the sight of him. Hands going straight for your waist, you step up only slightly to wrap your arms around his neck, letting him pull you closer. 

"Sun getting to you?" He asks, one hand coming up to your cheek, thumb resting on the apple of it, feeling its warmth under it. 

You shake your head. "No, why?" You ask tilting your head. 

"You look a little flushed, maybe we should get you inside" he smiles, one arm still wrapped around your waist. Your cheeks burn hotter, was it obvious to anyone else how badly you craved him?

Making your way into the air conditioned venue he walked you down a long hallway away from so many people, with the nod of a security guard who allowed you both to pass. "There's a green room over here, we can have a moment to ourselves for a bit, without all the chaos" 

Although the sentiment was nice, and you loved that he wanted to have a soft moment with you but you couldn't wait any longer. Rounding the corner you tugged on his hand pulling him a little harshly until you were both out of view from any potential onlookers. Your hands are trembling when they reach his belt, trying to get it off quickly. "Babe, baby, woah-" he sounds like he's going to stop you but his hands don't move from where they rest on either side of your ribcage. 

You're about to complain about the belt buckle when it slips free, and you rush to pop the button and pull the zipper down just enough to slide your hand past the two layers separating you from his cock. He groans softly when your hand brushes against his already hardening length, the soft tuff of his pubes tickling your skin as you begin to palm him. 

"I'm so horny Joey" you babble, leaning your head forward so it rests against his chest, watching your hand disappear into his pants. "Need you" you mumble, looking back up at him with desperate eyes. "Need you so bad"

"Fuck" he says through gritted teeth, pulling your face towards him with a firm hand on the back of your neck so he can kiss you. It's messy and clumsy, and you can't control the needy moan that slips from you when you feel his tongue touch yours. You grip him a little harder in your hand, feeling him stiffen more with each desperate stroke. 

"Baby I can't fuck you in a- fuuuuck" his words are cut off by another firm squeeze. "I can't fuck you in a hallway" he says a bit quieter glancing down each end of the hall.

"Then don't fuck me" you say, removing your hand from him, only to reach up under the skirt of your dress to pull off your soaked panties, shoving them into the front pocket of his pants. "Just touch me, please, anything" you beg bringing his hand between your legs, your intertwined fingers dancing along your slick folds together. 

"Holy shit" he mumbles in disbelief. Your knees start to buckle the second he makes contact with your clit, your hand falling away to hold onto his bicep to keep yourself up. "Baby" he coos, rubbing you slowly, your slick covering his fingers. He removes his hand from you slowly and you whine, instantly reaching down to redirect his hand but he stops you. 

"Gimme a second my love, I've got something better, come here" he pulls you closer, wet fingers digging into the plush of your thighs where he hitches it up against his hip. He takes both of your hands and pulls them up to his shoulders. "Hold onto me" he instructs before taking his cock in his hand, pushing his pants down just enough to get it out. Swiping it against your entrance you hum, head tilting back exposing your neck to him where he places a few small kisses.

"You're fucking filthy you know that?" he pushes slightly, not enough to slip in but enough to have your mind going fuzzy. "Needy little thing, in the middle of a premier, you're so desperate for cock that you're willing to get caught for it huh?" he teases, but you shake your head no, holding onto his shoulders a little harder when you feel him push just a bit more. 

"No?" He questions. "Oh so you're not desperate for cock?"

"Jus' yours" you mumble. "Only yours" your eyes meet his and Joseph swears he could cum from that look alone. 

His smile is almost sinister when he looks at you but you can still see the love there. "Thats a good fucking answer" he praises while finally pushing himself entirely into you. 

"Oh-Ohmygod" You whimper, shoving your face into his neck, fingers clutching at any piece of him you can touch. He tugs you closer somehow, while his hips pull back every so slightly only to shove himself right back in. His thrusts are slow but deep, making your lower abdomen ache with how full he's making you feel. The one leg that you're balanced on is trembling with how hard you're trying to keep yourself steady, the six inch heels no longer a good idea. "M'gunna have to carry you out of here aren't I?" Joseph laughs, his breath fanning across the side of your temple. 

You try to reply but the words are stuck in your throat, only small 'uh' noises able to escape. "Quite down dove, you wanna cum before we get caught yeah?" 

"Please" You whisper, head tilting back once more, mouth hung open. His pace quickens only a little, but he somehow manages to hit that sweet spot even deeper over and over. "Fucking christ" your hand moves to your stomach. "You're so d-deep"

"Just how my baby likes it huh?" his hand reaches down to toy with your clit, not much needed other than some pressure with how good he's fucking you. "I'm so close baby, want you to cum first, can you do that for me?"

Your eyes are shut tight, but you manage to nod. Your climax sparking in your stomach begging to burst. "Close" you whimper and he pulls your head back into his neck while he continues to fuck up into you. Your whole body starts shaking before your orgasm fully hits you, and you have to bite down on the collar of his shirt to help keep you quiet. You sound like your crying, sobbing into him but Joseph knows better than to stop whatever hes doing when he's got you sounding like this. "That's it, fuck baby you're so good to me" he rushes, his own orgasm coming to a hilt fast. "F-fuck, I'm gunna cum"

"Yes, yes, please, I need you to cum in me" you whisper into the dampness of his neck where your mouth has been stationed. 

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck-" He almost growls, holding back as much noise as he can as he feels himself spill into you, the way your cunt clenches around him perfectly, milking every ounce until you're both a panting mess. Only when Joseph is able to come back into himself, he lowers your leg, slipping out of you slowly while you quickly cross your legs tightly. You wobbly, barely able to keep yourself straight. 

"You okay?" he asks, brushing the hair from your face, holding your flushed cheeks in his hands. Only this time he knows why they're flushed.

"So good" you purr, leaning into him for a short moment before he's pulling away from you and buttoning up his pants. 

You pout at the lack of contact but then he's kneeling in front of you while helping you step out of your heels, your feet seeking sweet relief on the cold marble floor. "The night is pretty much over, what do you say we get you back to the hotel and until a bath?"

"I'd like that" you say fondly, wrapping your arms back around his neck. He kisses you softly, and you can feel the love he has for you being poured into it. "Can you fuck me again when we get there?"

"Jesus Christ woman" he laughs loudly, picking up your heels and letting them dangle on his two fingers before taking your hand into his free one. "Maybe if you can make it to the car without my cum dripping down your legs" he says lowly, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. 

[emelinstriker]

Macaque ♢ No Response

Got too many fluff fics of Macaque, so have this one for the feels. c:

Hanahaki go brrr-

♢ ~ Angst ~ ♢

Not just anyone got to be this close to Macaque. Be it emotionally or physically. This demon held even people he enjoyed being around with at arms-length. You knew it's due to his past experiences and you didn't mind. You enjoyed hanging out with him regardless... Though, you were disappointed that he never showed any signs that he was actually interested in you beyond friendship. Thus, you never tried to make a move. However, you did give away subtle hints that you liked him.

From the way you were helping him with his daily plans, to the way you were regularly smiling at him. He never seemed to take the hint. He simply treated you like he would any other he deemed as 'friend', while also putting his dislike for Sun Wukong first.

And it hurt.

Yet this pain was quite minimal compared to how you felt during one evening's 'hangout'...

The sun was starting to set as the people of Megapolis slowly started to head home to rest from their tiring day at work or school. Meanwhile, you were waiting in an isolated corner at the park for Macaque to arrive. He wanted to meet up to ask you something so important that texting you apparently made him feel uncomfortable.

Hope arose when you read his hangout message once again. Was he going to confess? Was your love for him reciprocated?

After what seemed like an hour of waiting, despite it only having been roughly 10 minutes, a shadow portal appeared underneath the closest tree's shade. And as expected, your monkey friend appeared. "Sorry about being a little late. I quickly had to check up on someone..."

You waved your hand dismissively, telling him that it's fine. "I haven't even waited for half an hour. Anyway, what was it you wanted to ask?"

"Ah, straight to the point, as usual", he chuckled. However, while his smile remained, his gaze suddenly seemed a lot more nervous.

"Well... You see... How do I put this-"

Hope arose once more as you noticed a very faint blush on his cheeks. Macaque crossed his arms for some comfort.

"Do you..."

Your smile brightened.

"...Do you know what would be a good gift for a first date?"

...

What.

And in an instant, your smile was gone and was replaced by a mixed expression of hurt and confusion. You masked the expression with more of the confusing part almost immediately.

"I- Um- What-"

"I got a date with a human this evening and I haven't even come up with a gift! But humans bring gifts to dates, right??"

"...W- Well, generally speaking, I... I guess flowers are a first date thing?" You shrugged. "Or- Uh... Something small they might like? I- I don't know?"

"Something they might like... from what I recall, they don't like flowers. So that option is out of the question..."

"Oh." You liked flowers. "T- Then I don't know how to help you here... Sorry." He wasn't talking about you, clearly.

He sighed, placing one hand behind his neck with the other on his hip. "It's fine. I guess I could've just asked you this through text. But I felt like it'd be too... awkward."

"As if this meeting wasn't awkward...", you muttered lowly, hoping he wouldn't hear. Though, you forgot about his extreme hearing. The dark-furred simian raised an eyebrow at you, but refused to say anything. This meeting was kind of awkward after all. However, he thought it was awkward due to a very different reason.

"...Is there anything else you wanted to talk about?" You asked after a few seconds of silence. If he paid enough attention, he would've heard the obvious disappointment in your voice.

"I...", he started before pausing, "...No, actually. I'm just... looking for advice."

Your mouth formed a straight line as you crossed your arms. "I... guess all the advice I can give you is... act like yourself, give them something small they might like, and just... have fun. Good luck on your first date though, I'm rooting for you", you added with a small, fake smile.

And with that, you started to turn and walk away, hands in your pockets... When you suddenly had the urge to cough. You covered your mouth with one hand as you rather loudly coughed, trying to get rid of whatever was itching in your throat... And out came a tiny bit of blood. Your eyes widened at the sight as you let out a very quiet gasp. Macaque, of course, heard you. "Are you okay, (Y/N)?"

"Y- Yeah. Just... caught a bit of a cold, I- I guess... Don't worry about me though! Worry about your date!" You nervously laughed, brushing off the concern his gaze on you held.

"Are you sure? I could at least-" "N- No, no! It's fine! I'm f- fine! Maybe a walk back home will clear my pipes more." You were trying to hold back another cough as you started to walk away a little faster. "See you after your date! Text me how it went!"

After letting out another cough, you started to speedwalk away, leaving the shadow monkey alone to his thoughts. He was worried, sure, but you had a point. He had a date to prepare for and he was majorly unprepared.

While he set out to finding the perfect first date gift for the other human, you arrived home and ended up coughing into your bathroom's sink. You were already expecting more blood, but you were not expecting the petals that followed soon after...

You needed answers.

And so, you ended up looking up your symptoms on your phone. Oddly enough, it did not take long at all to figure out why you were suddenly sick and coughing up bloody petals. The first page of your search was entirely filled with articles, images and even documentaries about it. A disease, or rather a curse, called Hanahaki.

Apparently it wasn't a common disease. It sort of seemed to have vanished for the most part, and the most recent records you could find seemed to have happened a few years ago. It seemed to involve falling in love with demons and said demons not returning the person's love. Which is why it was also deemed to be a curse- A curse the Celestial Realm may have set upon humanity for committing the sin of falling in love with a demon. However, as said before, it seemed to have died down and the greater majority of humans are safely able to be with a demon...

You were not part of that greater majority.

Dread washed over you as you felt the urge to cough again. 'Oh, what fun', you thought sarcastically. Especially after knowing Macaque was on a date with someone potentially better and more interesting than you... Tears gathered in your eyes at the thought of being completely replaced by someone else as the person he usually came to talk to first. It did not help your increasing coughing fit.

Your coughing did not seem to decrease of stop either as more and more thoughts clouded your mind. Perhaps Macaque would be better off without you bothering him with your interest in him...

Speaking of the shadow monkey, he did not have a great time on his date either. Turns out his interest for his crush disappeared the moment they started to talk about their interests without ever asking him about himself. The conversation seemed to be more one-sided if anything. He did try to add some of his own interests into the mix, but his date would brush those off within seconds and lead back towards their own topics.

He couldn't help but imagine how this conversation would've gone if you were sitting there instead of his date. You probably would've talked about mutual interests and lead to the topic of a new videogame you two could try together. The dark-furred simian sighed as he nodded along to whatever his date was saying, already zoning out of the 'conversation' and starting to look at his phone on his lap.

At some point, they started talking smack about their friends and hinted at his friends probably being 'just as strange'. His thoughts only went back to you. However, one statement actually pulled him into the topic.

"That being said, i knew a loser back in my school days named (Y/N)." His date said as the monkey's ear twitched. "What an oddball, honestly. All they ever did was read, write and draw during recess with no friends at all. Haha! Someone this quiet and awkward would never be able to score a date, I tell you-" They suddenly stopped when they noticed the intense glare the demon sitting across the table was giving them.

"...You know what? Sorry, but I don't think this relationship could ever work. I'm out. Check's on you", he stated before angrily getting up from his seat. He took a few steps back before phasing through his own shadow.

"Huh- Wha-... HEY!"

Once back in the darkness of Megapolis's streets, Macaque started to calm down. Sure, they could've meant another (Y/N), but the way they described those interests of yours, those interests that you've been carrying around happily for years... It just struck a cord and he somewhat snapped. He actually had to hold himself back from just outright yelling at this human.

Though, even if they were not talking about you at all, they still were not suitable as his mate. The lack of common interests was just one part of it. Either way, he decided to text you, knowing you would still be up at this time. It wouldn't be the first time he would want to visit you before the clock hit midnight.

'Date was a bust'

'Kept talking shit and i lost interest before we even hit the 30 min mark'

'You awake?'

Yet you did not reply.

Strange. You did not answer like how you usually would... Maybe you just fell asleep early? After all, you probably expected him to be unavailable for the entire evening. And if you were sick, that would just add even more reason to it. Macaque groaned. He should've stayed with you to make sure you were actually okay! Worry started to take ahold of him once more at the thought of you ignoring his texts due to your last conversation with each other.

Only then did he realize... You actually seemed disappointed when he told you about his date.

What hit even harder was the memory of him wishing you sat with him instead of this other human he thought he had a crush on. But... it was you he actually wanted. It's been you for so long and he never realized.

He facepalmed before deciding you give you a surprise visit. Just to make sure you were asleep and not ignoring him for his stupidity. Using another shadow portal, his next destination was your living room. Once inside, he quietly roamed the darkened apartment. All lights seemed to be off, so he thought you were actually asleep... Until he noticed the light coming from your bathroom. Macaque, instead of knocking as to not scare you into thinking he was an intruder, spoke up.

"(Y/N)? Are you in there?"

No response.

"...Are you mad at me for sending you to the park for our short talk?"

No response. The demon closed his eyes and focused on the bathroom's sounds. Maybe you were actually ignoring him.

However, confusion started to kick in as he noticed... He did not hear anything. No water dripping, no movement of clothes...

...Not even a heartbeat?

Now that he thought about it, he did not hear your heartbeat even once since he got here... But you would never leave the bathroom's lights on if you left... If anything, you would only leave the living room's lights on if you were out for a short moment. Concern replaced his confusion as he tried opening the door. Only for it to be locked. He cursed under his breath before using his shadow form to enter the small crack beneath the door...

He froze.

There you were. Lying on the ground.

Dead.

He already knew you had no pulse. Your heart wasn't beating. And he couldn't hear any faint breathing either. But... what made him freak out the most was how you died. Dark purple petals filled up the sink. Dark purple flowers filled up your bloodied mouth...

Hanahaki.

Macaque started to hyperventilate as tears quickly gathered in his eyes. He ended up sobbing once he fell onto his knees. grabbing ahold of your corpse, cradling it in his arms.

"N- No- Please- This- This is a joke, right? You're not- You're not actually dead- Right??"

No response.

"PLEASE- SAY SOMETHING- ANYTHING-!"

No response.

"...I didn't get to... I couldn't even tell you... I just..."

No response...

"...I love you... sugarplum..."

> Masterlist <

♤  Part 2

[frankenjoly]

bram and aya +

“I think they’re staring at you.”

“What do you recommend?”

or the word ‘royal’! up to you how many to do alsjfkfj

aaaanddd i combined them :3

“What do you recommend?” Bram asked, letting Aya lead him to a table she had called her usual spot upon entering the cafe. It was a small and colorful place near her school, mostly filled by other students with their friends, but in some cases their parents too. Would that mean no one would deem him as out of place? Unlikely, given how a handful of heads had turned to follow them with little to no regard for acting inconspicuous.

Most of them thought twice when meeting Bram’s best ‘mind your own business’ gaze, though.

“Hm.” Aya tapped her chin with her index finger, clearly considering all the options, since there was apparently nothing the vampire couldn’t straight up tolerate from the place’s menu. Sure, it wouldn’t feed him either, but that had been a given since the start. Not like it bothered Bram much, not when he could still taste food. “All the cakes are absolutely wonderful, but if I had to pick just one, maybe the apple pie? Or ditch those and go for the mochis. And for drinkin’...” She stopped for a second, glancing in the same way Bram was proceeding to look at. “Oh, yeah. I think they’re looking at you.”

“Have I not done enough to…” It was now his own turn to make a pause, properly choosing the words. “... appear fairly common-looking by modern standards?” 

The clothes he was currently wearing, if maybe more fancy than the usual while looking at everyone else, were appropriate to the times and weather. He had styled his hair so his pointy ears wouldn’t stand out much. And there wasn’t much he could do about the scars crossing his cheeks but those weren’t that strange either.

So what was the issue? Was it simply because he was a newcomer there? Would people who were familiar with Aya’s presence find off-putting that she wasn’t accompanied by her actual, biological father? Or--?

Speaking about Aya, her first reaction towards the question was giggling.

“I think they don’t have any problem with your looks, but the other way around.” The giggle turned into a big, amused smile. “Don’t be too obvious if you wanna take a peek, but for example… one of the ladies over there’s downright blushin’ and all.”

“Excuse me?” To be completely honest, Bram had understood what she meant. He just needed a few minutes to process the whole situation. Or hours.

“What? Bet they’re gushin’ as if they just found one of their fave romance novel main dudes just turned out to be true. Which kinda checks out, since you’re from ages ago and have that royal vibe thing goin’ on.”

Bram opened his mouth for a second, then closed it, then opened it again.

“You know I am no literal royalty.” Plus, calling her his princess was more about devotion and endearment and… yes, maybe a bit based on fantasy stories too, like the ones he had told another certain little girl back then. But still.

“I doubt they think that either.” Aya shrugged. “Anyway, whatcha gonna do with that sudden wave of popularity?”

“I--” Bram, meanwhile, let out a brief sigh. “Honestly, I have no interest in acknowledging those.”

“Why? Already got a sweetheart and whatnot?”

“You could say so.” He had barely finished speaking, when Aya’s jaw dropped.

(Also on ao3.)

[thisisyourprincipalspeaking]

Hi All,

I won’t name the website but at this point we’re all in this shitshow together. 😅

I was looking through some older “threads” IYKYK…… and I saw a lot of people did similar observations as we do now, but on Chris’ relationships with Minka and Jenny. I’m reading through what took place and it’s like rinse and repeat.

Unfortunately now we have……

Racism

Age gap

Messy Relationship

Marriage

Legit evidence that leads on to assume this is PR

Like the 2023 Celebrity Wedding list…..the biggest star on that list should have been Chris, yet he wasn’t added and the same media outlet had to create a separate article titled “Hollywood Bachelor’s We’re Sad to See Off The Market” or some crap, just to add the fact that Chris was “married”, yet all the other men listed were on the official marriage list…..EXCEPT him. Stuff like that made me go, now wait. 🤔

But reading through things that happened back 2012 and 2017……Chris has always been in mess and apparently I wasn’t fully aware of that.

Like I don’t assume him and Jenny weren’t real, but some of the same ones currently screaming how him and the “wife” are legit, treated Jenny like shit (screenshots all over google and elsewhere) Jenny trolled, tweeted awful things and I guess it’s just crazy to see the dynamic shift between people while some stuff seems the same, is all.

But the difference between Jenny/Minka vs this crap is we all could SEE Chris clearly loved or liked them very much to the point majority never assumed it was only Pr. Real relationship being used for PR at times, sure, but never just straight up PR.

Yet this current BS, screams ONLY PR!

I don’t know if Chris thought this girl was cool in the beginning but by the time this shitshow debuted it was obvious dynamics changed once they were public because he acted like he couldn’t stand her, so people screamed PR, plus the trolling and her racist friends, but to add a marriage to this is where people were like 😳 like you didn’t even propose to Jenny yet you chose this chick?!

I don’t want to sound overly invested in this man’s life, but it’s crazy to read and see various types of similarities which makes me go…..okay so Chris likes drama, has always had issues in relationships public wise which is why some believe this is legit, but what exactly is this situation because even if it’s legit, why all the orchestrated stuff plus as I mentioned before he wasn’t added to the official wedding list, various things that led to logical questions still leave us stomped. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Just interesting is all.

you bring up a lot of great points that i think are worth consideration. a lot of things i've seen discussed by many fans as well. i won't pretend that people don't change, because they do. and we also change with each relationship. but making note of the stark differences in overall relationship patterns is valid.

it's also a good point to bring up that ce has always been messy. i think a lot of people forget this. the only thing i will challenge is that we don't know if he did or did not propose to jenny. we can just assume that they were never engaged.

[brighterdaysarebeforeus]

Part 3!! Now with the Spider Society. Apparently at this point, I’m just doing a recap of the WHOLE MOVIE for this… (>.<)

Also, you guys are great, much love to y’all for liking this! Someone asked about being tagged in this part, so hopefully this works!

Tag list:

@hobiesgender

Part 1 Part 2

When the rumbling started and the destroyed AlcheMax building started sinking into a dark hole, the four of them raced the the bridge railing to watch. Pavitr sounded so confused when he asked what was happening, and Miles found himself putting his hand on his shoulder in comfort. And, right before they left, when he asked if everything was going to be ok…

Miles didn’t like the fact that he didn’t have an answer for him. He’d come to try and help, not make things worse, and it felt sort of like he’d done that. Made things worse for Pavitr when he didn’t mean to. Without thinking, he brushed his wrist across the kid’s neck, trying to comfort him the way his mamí did when he was younger. It seemed like it worked, Pavitr relaxing before throwing him a look that read as slightly surprised.

And then when Jess (he recognized her as the woman from Gwen’s watch) and her crew showed up, already equipped to help with the spot in the world, Miles felt his inner hackles raise slightly. He pushed it down, smiling brightly at her and introducing himself in the hopes that she would let him go with them to this Spider Society. She brushed him off, her voice cool even as she kept walking and didn’t even look at him. Miles clenched his fists, gritting his teeth under his mask, but Hobie was close enough to make him relax all over again, especially when he threw his arm around Miles’s neck and leaned into him; he didn’t quite do the same thing Miles did to Pavitr, but somehow what he’d done was so much better at making Miles relax fully enough that he almost leaned back into the other Spider. He didn’t want to think about those implications, either, and so locked them all in a chest and buried them deep.

He used the (reluctant, he could tell) invite to the Spider headquarters as an excuse to push away from Hobie, who he could see out of the corner of his eye; he watched as Hobie went from a faded bright pink back to gray when he pushed him off, and though his heart kind of, maybe, sort of twinged at the obvious disappointment, Miles brushed that aside too in order to get on the ship Jess arrived in. Gwen and Hobie followed after him (and he used them sitting to lean over and ask Gwen “hey, is she…?” and Gwen just looked at him and muttered back “She’s an alpha, yea.” That hadn’t quite been his question but Miles had left it at that anyway because his mamí didn’t raise a rude alpha), and then they were off.

Nueva York looked…different. Miles wasn’t entirely sure he liked the look of this sleek, futuristic version of his home, but it was awe-inspiring regardless; not as many skyscrapers, it seemed, but there were hover cars and what looked like a train that went…what, straight up to the moon? That was wild. He felt like his eyes were super wide as they took in everything, including the way Hobie pulled his mask off for the first time. His heart racing in his throat, Miles could only stare and whisper something he didn’t quite remember saying at all (“how are you even cooler under the mask?” “I was this cool the whole time.” And wasn’t that the truth, Miles thought).

The elevator doors opened to the biggest exclusive club he’d ever seen in his life, with Spiders of all kinds literally all over the place. There were people literally sticking to the ceilings and walls, and groups of Spiders ranging from trios to genuinely large groups. It looked sort of like a block party, like the one he’d left to go after Gwen. Miles stared around in awe, something twinging in his chest as things started to sort of…not add up. Gwen looked really nervous when he mentioned her “super small elite team”, and though he didn’t want to believe it, he could tell she lied to him about the majority of the Spiders being part time; it was more obvious when she drew ahead to walk next to Hobie instead of him, head tilting slightly away from him to the right as they talked. Super-hearing happened to not be one of Miles’s specific powers, but he had the feeling that Hobie and Gwen’s conversation would likely have gone unheard regardless; in a building full of super-powered humans, there had to be some way of communicating without others overhearing.

And then he spasmed again, making him lose focus on that minuscule interaction. Jess handed (threw at) him his day pass so he wouldn’t glitch, and didn’t even take them all the way to see Miguel. She just gave Gwen the orders (and Miles noted that it was Gwen specifically she gave the orders to, not Hobie but Gwen; he wondered if it was becauseGwen was an alpha, or if there’s been another reason. He’d glanced at Hobie and had gotten a sharp smile in response, which had Miles flustered because he didn’t think Hobie would’ve noticed him watching an alpha delegate a task to another alpha) and then vanished to do whatever it was she needed to. Miles hoped she was going to help Pavitr.

Pavitr, unfortunately, happened to take a break from his mind because Hobie turned from Gwen after that to be all over Miles instead. The Spider didn’t try to make himself smaller (Miles had heard of some bigger omegas who did that, made themselves smaller or find some way to make the alphas around them feel bigger or better despite their much larger size in comparison; Miles had always found the practice annoying, even if it was rare in his universe, and he was relieved when Hobie didn’t even make an attempt to cater to him in some kind of way) for Miles; instead, he made himself bigger, made himself noticeable. Made himself an obstacle.

It was weird. It didn’t seem to be coming from a place of interest, at least as far as Miles could tell, but from a place of causing as much chaos as possible; he ripped something off the wall and waved it in Miles’s face enticingly (“Bet this don’t even do anythin’.” “It probably did before you ripped it off the wall!”) looking proud whenever Miles looked at or spoke to him. Miles forced himself to focus on meeting Miguel, which is why he wasn’t expecting it when Hobie suddenly appeared in front of him, chair rolling to a stop and legs stretched out in front of him to cross on the table. Miles paused for a moment, staring down at him with wide eyes; Hobie looked…enticing, somehow, leaned back in his seat and looking up at Miles from below. He grinned up at him again, something pleasing and aromatic wafting in the air around him making Miles’s heart race in his chest for an entirely different reason it had been before.

Miles pushed past him anyway, and the scent soured faintly. He hesitated, long enough to feel a warmth along his back. Then Hobie’s voice by his ear, low and sure and sending chills down his spine; the alpha part of Miles took interest in the fact that an omega was concerned, that an omega was concerned for him, and so when Miguel began lowering himself on the platform Miles found himself on guard. He hid it well, he thought, greeting him in Spanish and trying to offer food as a peace greeting, but Miguel didn’t take the bait. He threw the empanada, yelled at him and Gwen about the Spot, and threw something heavy at the both of them.

He was excited to see Peter B, though the baby was new (she was so freaking adorable, though, bright red hair and chubby cheeks and Miles was actually so excited she existed, so glad for the chance to get to know her now), but even as they were talking, things were sort of…adding up even less for Miles. Peter B was here, and Gwen, and even though he hadn’t seen anyone else, it didn’t mean they weren’t also there. There were tons of other Spiders here, after all, and Jess had given Gwen so much flack for even coming to see him when she was on her mission in his universe…

Miguel dropped the bomb that his dad had to die, and Miles’s stomach dropped with it.

[mrsfrecklesmarauders]

"Remus, open up to new people, to new possibilities. Perhaps Mary is right and we can find yourself a nice boyfriend..."

"Again with that subject..." Remus sighed.

Remus wished he could tell Lily that Sirius fancied him back. At least that's what he said. Remus promised Sirius not to tell anyone. Especially James. Lily being James' girlfriend, could tell him everything. James' opinion was important for Sirius.

But Lily was a special friend to Remus. She knew about Remus' crush only. And she was just trying to help.

"Come on, Remus" Lily smiled, then she looked around before whispering "You cannot wait for Sirius forever..." she whispered "I am sorry, love. But he is clearly straight..." she shook her head.

Remus almost laughed. There was nothing straight in the way he kissed him in the janitor's closet, or in the Astronomy Tower, or in their dorm little bathroom late at night. But he couldn't say that.

"And he is not only straight but a player for the looks of it" Lily tutted "He never takes anyone seriously. You know how many crying girls I have to comfort because he broke their heart?"

"Lily..."

"Oh!" Lily exclaimed, ignoring Remus "Look at the asshole now. He has no respect of anything or anyone..."

Remus followed Lily's eyes to find Sirius walking through the Portrait Hole with a group of fourth years apparently, talking, laughing and flirting. Fourth Years!! What a son of a bit...

Remus agreed to this. Sirius was supposed to act "normal" until he was ready to come out or figure out his sexuality. And his "normal" was flirting with every female body around Hogwarts.

Lily touched his arm in a sympathetic way. She must've seen Remus' obvious sad expression.

"Trust me, Remus" Lily touched his cheek delicately "You deserve better than pinning for a boy like that... Perhaps you can find your prince charming somewhere else"

Prince Charming. That's what Grant called Sirius all the time. So accurate that nickname.

"Do you want me to ask the girls for help?" Lily smiled "Mary knows all the cute gay boys at Hogwarts. Maybe we can set you up with someone?"

Lily was being a nice friend. And she was right. Remus lived with the illusion that Sirius loved him the same way he did. That one day he was going to confess his feelings to everyone and they would be together. But Remus wasn't sure.

Of course when it was just the two of them, it was amazing. Remus felt like Sirius liked him, like he was the only one for him. He said things that made him shiver, and the way he looked at him was breathtaking. But when they were in public, Sirius acted like he was the heartbreaking asshole everyone thought he was.

Maybe Sirius didn't even like Remus like that. He was just passing time. He was another warm body. And add the secrecy and illicit affairs, even better. More interesting, even.

Maybe Lily was right. But God, Remus was so happy with whatever Sirius gave him. The kisses, the touches, the tender moments, the laughters. He was falling hard. And he didn't want to quit.

At the moment, Sirius locked eyes with him. And gave him that gorgeous smile of his. And Remus was doomed. He took his decision.

"I don't want a boyfriend, Lily" Remus faked a smile "I am fine on my own"

Lily pursed her lips but nodded.

"Okay, love" she said "Whatever makes you happy"

Sirius made him happy.

"Just take care of your heart"

He couldn't. It already belonged to Sirius. Damn, Remus was fucked.

"I promise" he said, already knowing he was lying.

[flaresanimedump]

I love devoted and 100% in love Genos who is oblivious that Saitama returns his feelings, but....what about the reverse. What about Saitama realizing some two weeks into their acquaintance that for some goddamn reason, he’s falling hard and fast for this infuriating, chatty, emo, overly-serious under-twenty man/robot. Genos isn’t his type at all and yet Saitama loves every little dumb thing about him, and it keeps him up a few nights because his perception of himself and the universe at large has been thoroughly altered.

But, while Genos is about as doting as they come, he’s firmly locked into the student/teacher dynamic. Saitama wasn’t into dudes, and he’s still not into a lot of dudes (look, anyone would waver the first time they saw Sonic), but Genos has only ever mentioned fangirls. Saitama knows he has fanboys, some among the S-Class heroes even, but it’s like they don’t exist. He’s either avoiding the topic or he’s not interested, probably. It’s not like it isn’t obvious Saitama’s a sure thing, right? Nobody just lets a random guy move into their tiny apartment after two weeks. 

And this goes on for a very long time. Saitama allows Genos to move in and maybe relishes Genos’s praise and admiration a little more than he should as a sensei, and tries very hard not to think about boiling frogs in slow-heating pots.

Cut to two or more years later when a monster shows up that can hypnotize anyone who feels they aren’t loved. If they were to sum up the negative and positive outcomes from this particular monster, its impact might actually give the world a net gain, what with how many heartfelt speeches and interpersonal issues get aired. It’s certainly setting the members of the hero association straight - apparently, Golden Ball and Spring Mustachio were not married as everyone had thought, but they probably would be soon. Saitama’s just tired of all the crying by the time they corner it about a week later. Also, Iaian had made an awful lot of allusions to Genos and Saitama in his confession to Atomic Samurai, and he’s tired of looking at their faces.

The monster tries its usual magic dust and pheromone trick and goes on about how they should come to the dark side because it has affection or whatever, blah blah blah, but the HA has triple-checked this time to make sure that none of the heroes on the list are especially lonely people. Mostly by sending people who’ve already been caught once, but still.

Except Genos wavers.

Saitama has seen it enough by this point to know what it looks like when somebody starts to fall for it, but it makes no sense. Genos is three steps away when he blurts out:

“You mean you don’t know?”

This at least gets Genos’s attention, but his face is already taking on the resentful hurt that the hypnotic trance brings. But he has to know, because it’s - it’s this big, obvious, neon sign above Saitama’s head, it’s practically a visible part of the fabric of reality. It’s between the lines of every single thing, there are atoms and molecules and Saitama loves Genos.

“...You’re pretty dense, huh?”

“Saitama!” Hisses King, who hasn’t so much as flinched this week and neither has Tatsumaki and they keep looking at each other and Saitama doesn’t want to know.

Saitama ignores him and watches Genos stand stuck between him and some dusky-pink monstrosity that has started poorly singing opera. Saitama’s pretty sure the opera isn’t necessary, the monster is just trying to act cool. Genos’s lonely-looking face also isn’t necessary. So Saitama kills two birds with one punch and takes out the monster while it’s distracted by the mood it’s trying to set.

Genos snaps out of it immediately, apologies backing up against each other as he tries to say them all at once.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Saitama shrugs, walking back over to stand in front of him. “I guess you would be the type who has to be told these things. Don’t fall for it next time.” He adds on, almost as an afterthought, “It probably won’t be enough to keep you from getting hypnotized, but you’ve got me in love with you at least.”

To which Genos intelligently replies, “What.”

“Come on, I have been since like, week three. I’ve been so obvious it’s embarrassing to think about. But I know you’re really into this whole training thing and popular and straight and all-”

Now this, this was not how anyone saw this playing out, so the heroes on duty have unanimously decided to stay very still and very quiet to see if Saitama and Genos finally get their shit together.

Genos can’t do either of those things when Saitama, the man who he has repeatedly, loudly, and to anyone declared his eternal devotion and love for, may actually be saying he has been in love with Genos for years and didn’t say anything because he thought Genos wasn’t in love with him, too.

Since absolutely nothing he’s said since they met has made it though to Saitama, Genos opts for actions. He grabs Saitama’s wrist, effectively stopping his continuing tirade which has apparently devolved into mentions of notable fan letters, and drags him immediately into a bruising, open-mouthed kiss.

Someone whistles.

Genos is very determined to get his message across without words this time.

[silversodas]

Welcome Home, So Interesting Thing about The Hearts

When hearing about Welcome home I wanted to go in as blind as I could to try and see how much I could figure out on my own, before seeing to many others theories. I don’t have the energy to write a full essay at the moment, BUT I NEED TO TALK ABOUT THE HEARTS (again, I am going in blind so I might be talking about something that’s been talked about)

What hearts? The hearts on the soles of Wally’s Shoes and Barnaby’s paws. It’s mentioned in both their bios that they share that characteristic. I thought that was a specific thing to draw attention to, so I looked to see if there was symbolism for having hearts on the soles of your feet, and holy crap there is!

Apparently there is a sister saying to “wearing your heart on your sleeve” called “wear your heart on your feet”. Symbolically speaking, when we wear our heart on our feet, they’re still exposed for others to see, leaving us open to finding romance (typically). But at the same time the strategic placement gives us more agency and control as we play in the risky game of love. Which sounds reasonable, but could become too guarded of a strategy if your not careful.

Barnaby has hearts on all four paws so technically he has harts in the palms of his hands and that also has symbolism, it’s main symbolism is charity from the heart, but also

For Barnaby, it symbolizes help that’s given out of love, who Barnaby helps the most is Wally and since it’s a characteristic that they share, it gives me the impression that it’s something between them which brings me to THIS DRAWING FROM THE WEBSITE!!

This is how the heart in hand symbolism is usually depicted open palm hand outstretched to the viewer. This drawing snagged my attention, it was strangely intimate. I almost passed over it, but looked to see if there was symbolism for blue hearts..and dude..

Red Hearts symbolizes romance and romantic love, and blue hearts symbolize a platonic connection, apparently for emojis it draws attention to a unique bromance or a connection between friends that are as close as brothers.

So…for the heart that Barnaby has in his hand, that symbolizes the help he gives Wally out of love to be romantic (that’s how I am reading it) but Wally himself is painting it blue, symbolizing platonic connection. Which, to me, says that Barnaby has feelings for Wally, but Wally sees it as friendship. Mostly because Wally doesn’t get it, because Wally’s gay coding is gay coded so I don’t think it’s a “but he’s straight” issue, but I do feel like a frustration is being vented here. Which is why I find it really sad

The fictional creators of the Welcome Home website are more framing devices then characters but the fictional creators of the show Welcome Home are characters, more or less. The whole show of Welcome Home feels like it was created by a gay man who put as much of himself as he could in the show without giving himself away because it was the early 70s. I mean technically it’s really obvious, but would go unnoticed by the people he is trying to avoid.

I get the feeling that what I read from the drawing is something the creator has been through. Maybe he was the Barnaby and his labors of love were seen as friendship and maybe held out hope even though he knows he shouldn’t or maybe he was the Wally and perhaps did return feelings but was still figuring himself out and couldn’t see those feelings for what they were so he painted them as friendship hurting his friend and himself as a result

I am trying to see what the “creators” of the show were going for when creating the show as well as see Welcome Home for its super natural elements, but that’s a completely different post. I am not really even sure what Wally is or how much of his own entity he actually is or if the others are even around at all, but certain pieces of art work shows a lot of personal heart and soul from the creator (character) and it makes me want to know more about him, and see what agency he has in the narrative

[the-delta-quadrant]

some anon in one of my culture blogs inboxes is really angry that i use -misia rather than -phobia to discuss bigotry against queer people (and fat people). every few days they slide in my inbox asking in definitely good faith (/s) why i use -misia instead of the more common -phobia because it "should be obvious from context" what i mean, and today they said "don't let the [queerantagonists] destroy our language"

and since this is bullshit and tumblr won't let me block anons for some reason, here's a little history lesson for you

it is not "our language". even if it was, it's abled queers' language because language that is ableist, saneist and harms mentally ill people is not "our language". you just don't consider disabled people part of your people, apparently. using the word phobia to describe hate and aversion is part of a bigger problem of people using mental illness to describe bad behaviour or behaviour that is unwanted ("narcissistic abuse", "trans people are being histrionic over their pronouns", "schizo", "crazy", "insane" as insults, "only someone who is mentally ill would do [very horrible thing]". these attitudes have real affects on mentally ill people, they get us attacked, institutionalised and killed because we're deemed to be inherently dangerous. the -phobia for bigotry thing is no different. this attitude has lead to so much trauma and i have personal history of specifically being bullied because people thought that me having phobias made me a bad person, and they specifically brought up the word homophobia. that's as deep as i'll go in because i've done enough talking about my trauma publicly recently lol.

aside from the harm done to mentally ill people, it also really, really downplays bigotry. if it's a mental illness, the poor bigots just can't help it. and here's where we get into the etymology of the term homophobia.

the term homophobia was coined by george weinberg, a straight psychologist who doesn't get a say on our language. he DID coin it as a mental illness, so any counter argument of how it wasn't meant that way immediately falls apart. in his coining of the word, he described phobias as "always leading to brutality", once again playing into the idea that mentally ill people are inherently dangerous. weinberg coined the "mental illness" homophobia as a defense for hate crimes - he LITERALLY created the gay panic defense. that is the origin of the term "homophobia", and thus all other bigotry terms that people slap the -phobia ending onto.

the very etymology of the word homophobia is so violently anti-queer. it is not "our language". it was nonqueer people's language to justify why we were murdered and attacked.

the word "homophobia" is literally the origin to "gay panic". it's literally the "clinical term" for gay panic.

how can you say that gay panic isn't real because it's hate and not panic but then insist on using the term homophobia?

and i don't really care if you want to "reclaim" the word because it's still fucking ableist.

and if anyone comes here to tell me "but oil is hydrophobic and it's not scared or mentally ill!" you'll get blocked because..

newsflash: mentally ill people are HUMAN, not a fucking lab experiment. don't talk about context if you don't understand how calling oil hydrophobic does fuck all harm but calling PEOPLE phobic to mean "something horrible" does.

i also don't care if it's "common" or more understood. it's not an excuse for ableism.

it's very ironic how many people will reblog like 100 gender terms a day but get crappy with me because they might have to learn a new word to avoid being ableist.

like, on my culture accounts i never even specifically talked about the -phobia suffix being ableist because i'm tired of being attacked. but even if i just use non-ableist language without saying anything about other language, i still get fucking harassed.

disabled people can't fucking win and it's so obvious you don't want us in the queer community if you consider ableist and anti queer language to be "our language" and part of our history or whatever the fuck.

if you get personally offended by disabled people pointing out ableism you're a piece of shit, but if you get personally offended by disabled people simply using non ableist language and not even saying anything about ableism, you're 10x the biggest piece of shit.

even if -phobia wasn't harmful in numerous ways, just imagine how pathetic you have to be to get angry at someone over how they talk about bigotry.

[comfy-whumpee]

Love Lets Go

The Birdhouse has occasional group therapy. CN: BBU, alcohol.

@neuro-whump​, @rosesareviolentlyread​, @whumper-in-training​, @mylifeisonthebookshelf, @pumpkin-spice-whump, @whumpsday, @firewheeesky, @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question, @highwaywhump

“Let’s talk,” Miss Kaur said, “about what love is.”

Avis sat on the edge of the windowsill in the living room. Beside her on the loveseat were Florence and Kamala, inseparable as usual. On the left, in the armchair by the old fireplace, Boo curled up with no apparent interest in the conversation around them. Against the opposite wall was the doorway to the dining room, and the dining chair that Miss Kaur had brought in for herself. Finally, rounding out the ring, was the green sofa with Tenten and Roman at opposite ends, sat in their identical straight-backed, hands-folded pose that was a mark of their similar training.

Group conversations were a new thing. It wasn’t strictly therapy for them, but it was a way to open topics of discussion and build connections in the group, as well as a way for them to learn from each other. They were trying it out to see who benefitted, who got nothing from it, and whether anyone would react negatively. Avis was mainly hopeful that being present would help Boo, even if they still refused to respond to anything around them.

They had picked a broad theme for the first attempt. One relevant for all involved, as best they knew. After the question, there was a long pause. They all had ideas to think through before daring to say them aloud.

Avis waited in silence for Kamala to speak. It was always Kamala. She couldn’t stand awkward moments like this. Her smile was kind and gentle. “Love is a strong feeling of care for others,” she answered. Avis would have bet money that it was the definition listed in the dictionary in the study.

Kamala didn’t seem to know how obvious it was that she often recited answers that she thought were correct, rather than give her own feelings. She also didn’t seem to realise how impressive it was that she could remember so many passages word for word.

“Love is being inc-cc-cluded in things,” Tenten offered after another hesitation. Avis thought of his occasional presence at other people’s activities. If they needed a second participant, Tenten was always willing. Perhaps that was love, to him.

The silence dragged on. Miss Kaur eventually broke it, looking at the others. “Does anyone else have any initial ideas?”

Roman stared at his feet. Boo stared into space. Florence was the one who spoke. “Love is when someone looks after you.”

Better than expected, Avis thought with relief, relaxing slightly.

“Thank you for sharing, Florence. Would you like to contribute, Roman?”

Roman glanced up, startled. His voice was whisper-soft. “Love is wanting something even if you try not to.”

Avis watched as Miss Kaur absorbed that response, nothing but the slight pause before her reply to give it away. “Thank you, Roman. Could you tell me something you love?”

“Attention,” Roman answered promptly.

“Beauty,” Florence supplied, sensing that the question was coming to the rest of them.

“Making other people happy,” Kamala put in.

There was a pause. Florence looked at Tenten while everyone else pretended not to.

He shifted in his seat, only a slight turn of his hips to give away his discomfort even as he held still in the formal sitting pose, the rest of his tics vanished under his focus. “I love - this house,” he said, looking at Miss Kaur and nobody else. “It-t’s old and has winding hallways and exp-posed beams. Everyone gets their own room and they’re all, all different. It, it-t has a range in the kk-kitchen and a fireplace in here, so it’s always warm.” He stopped, hearing himself talk, and scratched his cheek. “I’ve been um, been wanting t-to say that for a while,” he admitted.

Miss Kaur was smiling. “Thank you, Tenten, for sharing that. I liked hearing your reasons.”

Tenten smiled back, pleased at the praise.

Then, the seconds began to pass again.

Roman was checked out, staring at the floor with distant eyes. Attention was decidedly not something Roman sought in the shelter, but perhaps he was different before. Or perhaps he was told that he was, and believed it now.

Florence was playing with the hem of their skirt, drawing repeated attention to their bare thighs through the slight movements of their hands. The question had brought something up for them, too. Beauty and its form were always difficult for them to parse.

Reliably, Kamala spoke up. “I like this house too, but people are more important to me. I’m happy if I can make someone else happy.” She gave a picture-perfect Platonic smile. “And I want everyone to be well, of course.”

“Can you give us your reason for that, Kamala?” Miss Kaur suggested.

Kamala froze, briefly, subtly. It wasn’t an answer she had prepared, it seemed. “Well, that’s - that’s obvious.”

Avis knew the line. Platonic caretakers find nothing more fulfilling than being the best partner to their owner, and answering their needs with diligence and perfectionism.

“If people are happy I can feel happy too. It’s nice to know you helped someone.”

Tenten nodded in agreement.

Boo sat on the armchair, looking between them all without a twitch of an expression to show their thoughts. But at least they seemed to be following the talk, now.

“What do we think about the idea of self-love?” Miss Kaur said, when it became clear that the group had nothing else to add. “Roman,” she called his attention back, “I’d like you to start. What is your view on self-love?”

“Um,” Roman said, eyes skittering away. He wasn’t fully present, still. Some thought was catching at him. “Self-love is when you love yourself?”

“Yes,” Miss Kaur agreed, despite the non-answer. “What might that look like, to love yourself?”

There was a significant silence.

“I’d like us to think about what Kamala said,” Miss Kaur suggested, steering the ship back on course again. “Kamala said, and forgive me for paraphrasing here Kamala, that she loves people, and she especially loves looking after people and helping them. When you said that, Kamala, were you including the people in this room?”

Earnestly, Kamala nodded.

“I’ve had conversations with some of you about seeing yourselves as people. We have worked on that knowledge, that to survive the pet industry doesn’t mean you are no longer people. This means we are, according to Kamala’s principles, deserving of love, help and kindness.” She glanced at the woman in question, who looked alarmed by being used as an example. “That includes Kamala herself.”

The clock in the kitchen was audible through the doorway. Nobody else even moved. It was difficult for them all to think through this barrier, especially when she tied it to ideas of worth and support.

“We all have an idea of love,” Sunita said quietly, with the warmth she felt for this group suffusing her tone. “What we lack, and this is common of most people, is the ability to apply that knowledge to ourselves. When we love ourselves, we learn how to treat ourselves fairly. We learn how to make compromises and how to assert boundaries. We negotiate all of those things with ourselves, and it’s not necessary for us to do that before bonding with others, but it is invaluable practice for forming sustainable relationships in the long-term.”

Kamala nodded, because she thought she was supposed to. Florence looked lost.

“Only you can be your worst enemy, and only you can be your best friend,” Sunita summarised. “Learn how you like to be treated. Then you can teach those around you. Let’s take a pause now for reflection. Take yourselves off to wherever you’d like to be, and think, write or talk aloud through your thoughts. We’ll come back in half an hour.”

-

Florence sat doodling shapes on a piece of paper they’d found, with a stubby pencil Avis left in the kitchen for writing the shopping list. They were drawing hearts, one of the few symbols they knew. Hearts meant love. It seemed relevant.

It was a strange conversation they were having today. Loving others was easy for Florence; they had been made to, and the way that their love had changed hands was important to them finding their place.

They were made to give, not to keep. But they wondered if they could.

Could you love yourself without being able to see yourself?

-

It was too far to go up to their room. They could have gone up, and nobody would have said anything, but if they missed too much therapy, Avis would get involved.

They stayed in the armchair, staring at the emptied room as if nothing about it had changed. Their voice was miles away at the best of times, but today it may as well be on another continent.

No matter what they learned from Sunita Kaur, they didn’t know how to live differently. They would only learn everything that they lacked.

-

Kamala waited patiently to be allowed back into the therapy room, iPad on her lap. She had a comic book open, but between pages, when she could sneak glances, she was trying to find some information about the therapeutic conversation they were having together. Normally, Mrs Sunita followed a treatment plan or template exercise that meant Kamala could find all she needed, given enough time.

Searching what is love led to nothing useful. It was too common a question. She read some articles, but they all seemed vague and at times, in disagreement about what it was.

Still, she knew from Mrs Kaur’s expression that she had said some things right. There had been approving looks, and she had used Kamala’s words to explain something. So she was doing well.

She could be good. Good pet, good friend, and good at therapy.

-

The bathroom was quiet and private. Tenten liked bathrooms. They were designed to be easy to clean, and they were the only place nobody ever raised eyebrows when you locked the door. He could spend as long as he liked inside, and people would only give him vague, concerned questions about whether he was okay, without prying into specifics.

He sat cross-legged on the floor, resting his wrists on his knees. He breathed. He was doing well today, only his hand twisting erratically, everything else loose and behaving itself.

Mrs Kaur was asking hard questions.

He let the thought walk by. It wasn’t his place to try and predict what would happen, nor to practice what he would say. His job was to read and respond. Find what they want and provide it with the appearance of effortlessness. Mrs Kaur wanted his honest thoughts, and he could provide.

-

An arm goes around his shoulders and he doesn’t move. Carved from stone, he thinks to himself, as the lights of the television flicker over them both in the dim light. He doesn’t like that Tyler is tipsy. It makes him nervous, remembering the Christmas party last year where he got in a drunken fight with Phil. They were friends again the next morning, but it was still unnerving.

He has to be carved from stone. Unflinching, unfeeling.

But Tyler doesn’t hurt him. He just sits there, smelling of sweat and alcohol, watching the screen. They’ve gone to commercial, but Roman can’t leave now. He can’t pull away.

On the screen, two men are buying a house together, talking to a nice, smiley representative from a bank so they can get a mortgage.

“Are you gay?” Tyler asks abruptly.

It’s only after he’s processed the question that Roman realises that’s what the men on the screen are meant to be. His heart sinks. “I don’t…know,” he admits after a moment.

“Yeah, of course you don’t. You wouldn’t know unless you tried being with a guy, right?” Tyler’s voice is casual, but something shifts underneath, and Roman swallows. “You don’t remember anything, you wouldn’t know.”

“No,” Roman affirms, between numb lips. Dread is climbing up his throat with claws.

“Would you want to know? I mean, it’s not like you’re gonna date. But it’s – interesting, to know, right? It’d be good to know.”

Tyler still won’t look at him. Roman looks at his lap, feeling like the arm around him gets heavier every second, every breath, every word out of Tyler’s beer-stained mouth. “I don’t mind,” he whispers.

“’Course not,” Tyler agrees, except he doesn’t sound like he’s listening. “You don’t mind. You wouldn’t mind. And you wouldn’t tell anyone.”

Roman opens his mouth to ask, tell anyone what?

-

“Half an hour is up, Florence.”

“Okay.”

They got up, leaving the scrap of paper behind. They returned to their seat, where Kamala had already returned on her own. Florence didn’t think Boo had moved.

Avis rapped on the bathroom door. “You ready, Tenten?”

“Yes, Avis.” The door opened. Neither of them commented on Tenten’s half-hour bathroom break. They both knew he’d needed the space.

With everyone else returned, Avis went looking in search of Roman, climbing the stairs. She had left him until last because she knew that, against her expectations, he had been hit the hardest by the conversation today. It would have, she hoped, a profound impact on everyone. But something had triggered for Roman, and she wasn’t yet sure what.

She didn’t find him in the bedroom. She checked the bathroom, and the music room. He wasn’t in any of them.

 She circled the floor to the big window, but he wasn’t in it. She climbed to the third floor.

 There, the library door was ajar.

 The Birdhouse’s library was a long room with a wider bottom half, taking a chunk out of the third bathroom, which could afford the loss. It was lined down one wall with huge shelves, each one containing multitudes. There was fiction and non-fiction, sci-fi, fantasy, realistic stories, mysteries and thrillers and crime, fairy tales, myths, legends, poetry and drama, illustration and photography, craft books, art books, comic books, cookbooks, books on gardening, DIY, health and wellness.

On smaller shelves around the room were the personalised collections: Kamala’s riot of colour for all her Marvel needs; Florence’s photo collections from places across the globe and their easy reading novels; Tenten’s recipe books and the two history texts he had shyly asked for. Boo didn’t have anything on their shelf, but Avis knew they used the library sometimes, when nobody else did.

 Roman was sitting in one of the eight armchairs scattered around the room. It was facing the window, but the curtains were closed from last night. He didn’t seem to be looking out of them.

 Perhaps, Avis thought as she sniffed the papery air, this room was the most like an office.

 She set herself down in the nearest armchair, nearly sinking into the plush fabric. “Hi, Roman.”

 “Hi, Avis,” he said, his voice barely audible.

 She sat for a minute, watching. He barely moved. He was sitting in the chair upright, feet on the floor, hands at his sides as though he’d forgotten to position them. His head was tilted down to place his gaze on the floor, but he wasn’t moving.

 “I like this room,” Avis ventured after it became clear he had nothing to say. “I think it’s lovely. Things can get hectic with the others around and all the things to do, but your reading time in the library is always special. Peaceful.”

 He didn’t unstick. She sensed that he wanted to, somewhere inside him he was straining to, but he wasn’t in control. He was being unobtrusive, that deadly word that both of her Help at Home rescues staked their lives on.

 She rested her arms on one side of the chair, making sure she was as close to his direct line of sight as she could be. “I’m getting the sense that you’re paralysed right now, Roman. That’s okay. It’s not unusual to get stuck sometimes, when someone is faced with something that they can’t handle. They adapt, or they suffer through it. Often, they suffer in the same way as they have suffered other things before.”

 Roman gave a slight nod, just enough to show he was paying attention. Was it genuine communication, or even a request for her to carry on? Or was it another trained motion? She wasn’t sure. He was still so new.

 “This is because your brain learns how to survive. That’s like its superpower, like Ms Marvel. Have you seen Kamala’s comics?”

 Another nod of five degrees.

 “Your brain adapts. It learns what was safe and got you through a hard situation, and when you’re put under stress again, it uses that same technique. Sometimes, that technique is freezing.”

 Sometimes, it was self-annihilation through service to others. Sometimes, it was emptying of thoughts and focusing only on sensory experiences free of trauma. Sometimes, it was becoming nothing at all.

 Sometimes, though, it was talking. Sometimes, it was Tenten gripping his elbows and trying to explain where his head had gone, so he could find his way back.

 Avis relaxed, reassured by the thought. If Tenten could do it, so could Roman. “Think about where you are, Roman. You’re in the library right now. You’re looking at the curtains. What colour are they?”

 His lips moved, almost soundlessly. “Purple.”

 “That’s right. A nice muted, dusky purple. What texture?”

 “C-coarse. Sturdy.”

 “Excellent. What about where you’re sitting?”

 He looked down. It seemed as though he hadn’t seen the chair before. “C-Cream.”

 Then his eyes went to her, and she waved. “Hi, Roman.”

 He exhaled. She wondered how long he’d been holding that one lungful of air. “Hi, Avis.”

 -

 Mrs Kaur nodded. “I’ll talk through it with him in private next time I see him. I expected there might be some difficult moments, but I didn’t foresee Roman reacting so strongly. It sounds like he needed some help to come out of his memories, but he was able to go about the rest of his day normally.”

 Avis felt tension drop away from her shoulders as Sunita laid it out so simply. “Yes. That’s true. How were the others after we left?”

 Her words were edged with concern, which Sunita politely pretended not to notice. “Oh, fine. Boo listened, the others talked. They weren’t quite able to express things about themselves just yet, but we had a good moment where they offered love to each other, and saw it reflected back. I think that’s a very positive start.”

 Avis chuckled softly to herself. “I can imagine. Kamala and Florence always have nice things to say about each other, and Tenten is nice about everyone.”

 Sunita smiled, the coy smile of someone who has a surprise to reveal. “It was more than that, actually. Florence wanted to talk about Boo.”

 Avis’s eyebrows rose.

 “Apparently, Boo helped them on a bad night some weeks ago. They needed company, and help getting food. Boo provided. Florence, by their own admission, loves very easily and very loyally… But there seems to be a connection there.”

 “That’s incredible.” Hope swelled in Avis’s chest as she tried to imagine Boo expressing feelings to Florence, even through pauses and movements. “That’s a big win from today,” she said.

 “Exactly.”

  -

 “And what is love?” Dr Cerasale asked.

 Her mouth hung open for a moment before she snapped it shut, folding her arms. Turn it back on her, would he? Typical. “Love is dedication, affection, patience and – and believing in them.”

 The therapist nodded. “And how might you describe your love for yourself?”

 Oh, doubly turning it back on her. He was good.

 Avis shrugged. “I don’t love myself or hate myself. I am myself. I just am. All my love is for my – rescues. And my son.” She cut him a look as he stopped before he could get the first syllable of his next question out. “Those are the most important people to me.”

 “Avis,” he said, almost warningly.

 “I know what you’re going to say. I didn’t replace my missing boy with them. I would have ended up here eventually, even if Florence hadn’t found me. I had to help. Even if I couldn’t help him. I know grief plays a part in it, but I won’t listen to you making it sound like grief is the only reason I’m doing such a good thing.”

 He didn’t interrupt when she paused, so she carried on.

 “Besides, no matter my reason, they’re getting help. I’m far from perfect, but I can give them resources and equip them for their new lives as free people.”

 “And how about when they fly the nest? How will you feel then?”

 Avis was about to say fine, but a sudden grief knocked her thoughts clean off track, and the word was lost. She took a breath and she felt herself circling the whirlpool. She fell still.

 Leaving the nest, letting them fly. Watching them soar. Seeing their plane disappear over the horizon, her baby leaving home for his first holiday without her.

 Kids left home to find themselves, not lose themselves.

 “I don’t know,” she said eventually. “We’ll see when the time comes.”

 Cerasale hummed and nodded. “When the time comes for them to leave, as they all will.”

 They might not, Avis thought to herself. Roman might not be able to cope with everyday living on his own. Tenten could always be vulnerable to exploitation. Kamala still recreated power dynamics that put her subservient to others. Boo was still mute. Florence was still barely literate.

 “How does it feel, to think about that?” he probed gently. “Your rescues leaving the sanctuary?”

 “Scary,” she said honestly. “Seeing them go. Not knowing what will happen to them, not being there if anything does.”

 “Do you think that is likely?”

 “Of course it is. Bad things happen to everyone, but ex-pets most of all. The survival rate in American shelters is horrifying.”

 “Permit my ignorance, but is the situation here comparable to that of the USA?”

 “Well, no. It’s better here, there aren’t WRU vans on every corner waiting to abduct them. They’re emancipated, they have distance, they have legal status. But it’s all in the data, and it’s bad. They’re gullible and overgenerous and don’t stand up for themselves. Letting them go isn’t just scary, it’s dangerous. Legitimately dangerous.”

 “But people do it. In the USA, as well as here. Do they not?”

 “Yeah. Yes, of course.” Avis frowns. “But my rescues are – the Birdhouse is for complex cases. Rescues who didn’t all want to be rescued, or rather, like, they wanted to be rescued but still want to be owned. Just in a different way. Rescues who wanted rescue, but wouldn’t have wanted it if their owners were different.”

 Cerasale nods, letting that sit for a moment. She’s stated her case. Her argument is pretty sound. But she knows he’s not just going to let that pass.

 “Again, correct me if I’m wrong. But I wonder if that description is accurate for all your rescues. You have often spoken, in admiration, of Tenten’s innate desire to be free. For example.”

 “Tenten would have stayed with his family if they hadn’t made him wear a collar.”

 He looks at her thoughtfully. She dodges his gaze.

 “For a while, anyway,” she mutters. She knows she’s not being fair, and guilt prickles at her for fibbing about Tenten to get her therapist off her back. “He wanted to try living independently. If he can’t, I don’t know what he’ll do.”

 “Think of Tenten,” he suggests. He’s gentle, but firm. “He won’t be the only one, but perhaps he is the one you can see most clearly right now. He has many life skills, he is interested in learning and growing, he participates in therapy, and he wants this.”

 She hugs her elbows, feeling chastised, the burn worse because she knows he’s right. She’s always known. Tenten will be the one who leaves first.

 “It will be a scary, bittersweet day. But ultimately a happy one.” He checks the clock on the table to the side, angled so she can’t read it. “We’re about ready to wrap up. I want to pick this back up next week. How are you feeling?”

 She thinks about it. It’s been a hell of a fucking week. They always are.

 “I miss my son,” she says.

[yousei-no-mori]

Ijiranaide, Nagatoro-san - Rant

I am currently watching season 2 and I have some thoughts (about both seasons).

First of all why did I start watching this anime? Erm... So I know what the target audience is, it's people who self insert as Naoto and want to date Nagatoro. As for me? Oh, it's the other way around. I think Naoto is cute and I want to bully him. I thought maybe my female friends were similar but the only friend I have who read the manga wants to make out with Nagatoro. Sorry, I forgot lesbians exist.

Uh, anyway yeah Naoto is cute and I want to be Nagatoro. Not sure if girls like me watching this was intended since these anime are usually made for lonely dudes, lol. Anyone else feel like me though?

The scrunkly.

Okay, so, my thoughts on season 1... Lemme check the episodes to bring back my memory a little bit, as I watched that to calm down from the stress that is social work during last Winter.

The first two episodes made me really scared to watch this series, for real. Nagatoro just straight up mentally tortured Naoto, and not in the hot way. I felt really bad for him because I know what it's like to be the shy nerd kid. Anyways at around episode 3, I think, Nagatoro starts showing her softer side more. And she hardcore crushes on Naoto.

The dynamic between Nagatoro and Naoto is really cute in my opinion, even if it is very simple. Nagatoro has her first crush because she finally found a guy that doesn't bore her to death but she doesn't know how to handle it so she bullies the fuck out of him. Naoto is pretty much the opposite? He doesn't really realize how much he likes Nagatoro sometimes and thinks he would rather not be around her. He tries to manage that by fighting her off in which classic anime romcom things happen. You know the "Holy crap you did something on accident, PERVERT!" thing, except it sometimes works really well. Maybe it's just because I think both of them are really cute, but I like when they have their little "Oh god, we both fucked up" moments.

Then there's the more obvious romance aspects and they're by far my favorite. The momens of honesty and the cute glances... Yep, they're adorable. I don't want to give away too much, sorry. Just know it's, in my opinion, the best thing in the series.

I don't care for the side characters by the way, but they can be enertaining when they point out how obviously both of our main characters are trying to "prove" that they don't like each other. They're the audience, the "just kiss already!" guys.

Also funny face cute. I like when she snaps. I like her. The cutesy. Okay no, for real, I love when Naoto and Nagatoro support or protect each other when they really need it. They can be a bitshitty towards each other sometimes but in the end they're actually kinda... healthy? Like Nagatoro is creepy but I love when the girl is a creep instad of the guy, since Naoto is actively watching out not to disturb Nagatoro. And how she will constantly accuse him of being a creep makes sense later when you realize that she's actually much worse than him, lol.

Okay let's get to season 2, since I keep using too many screencaps of that season anyway.

Oh boy, another anime studio took over with season 2 (now OLM, before it was Telecom) and it's very noticeable. The animation is stiff and sometimes just straight up doesn't move right, the art is a lot more bland, in season 1 there were a lot of beautiful warm colors and lineart, and the voice direction is very strange... That and also our main characters seem to regress a bit? Now being overly flustered over small things that they would've been fine with in season 1? I get it, they're supposed to be cute and awkward but it's the classic romcom regression...

I'm in the middle of watching season 2 and sadly the things I loved in season 1 just aren't that apparent anymore. It's still cute and I love Naoto and Nagatoro together, but I can hardly pay attention to that when Naoto is animated like Chargeman Ken.

^ little appreciation for the beautiful lighting in season 1!?

Anyway, Ijiranaide, Nagatoro-san will forever be my biggest guilty-pleasure comfort anime and I'm only a little ashamed.

Love ya

[pinkoffice]

sukuna x reader (a lil experiment)

CHAPTER 1 

“Will you stop being such a pussy and go out with us?” Nobara’s irritated voice boomed through your apartment.  It’s become a tradition by now, ever since your first year of college.  

For as long as you could remember, the short-haired girl and Itadori have tried to get you to go out with them on one of their crazy friday nights, as they called it. 

Your record of giving in remained a very obvious zero. Getting drunk with some random guy you met on that very night wasn’t your ideal type of fun. Not anymore, at least. 

With that said, you still didn’t know how long you would be able to maintain your perfect streak of “Hard pass, Noba. Too many essays that won’t write themselves and too many hours to work this weekend.”  

Yes, they could see right through your poor excuse, but you couldn’t afford to care. Ever since your grandparents died, you have tried to be the (financially) responsible person they always taught you to be, even if that meant more than a few sleepless nights on your end. You wanted to honor the values they basically engraved to you as a child, even more now that they are actually gone.  

As annoying as it was to have to be aware of your expenses as a little kid who only thought about toys and chocolate, you had to admit it made your life much easier to handle now.  

With never quite grasping the concept of saying no growing up, you turned out to be a very gullible person, therefore, you could only turn down your friends so much before you caved in. Plus, you loved them way too much to handle their puppy eyes. 

“Oh my God, do you ever have work to not do? Seriously, when was the last time you took a break and enjoyed it?” Itadori replied, earning a very enthusiastic nod from the girl next to him. You sometimes wonder how Megumi puts up with these two 24/7. Your patience barely lasted through for their antics in class. 

Ignoring the pink-haired boy, you continued your argument of trying to be a responsible, sensible adult. Which meant no skipping class, and/or work and absolutely. No. Going. Out. 

“(Name), you need to take a chill pill. We’re 20, not 40. This is the time where we can afford to make these mistakes. Do you really want to reach adulthood regretting not doing what you wanted, or some mistakes you made along the way of making yourself happy?” You cringe at the straight froward, no bullshit tone from Megumi.  

Since when was he here, anyway? Either way, that would be a very plausible argument, for anything other than the one apparently all of them wanted you to do. 

“Oh, come on! You don’t even like going out!” Your poor excuse of a distraction failed miserably, as the raven-haired male just gave you one of his pointed looks. 

“It’s not about going out, (name), it’s about you relaxing for a change” He deadpanned. 

The swell of anxiety building in your chest was all too familiar: things were escalating way too quickly and your excuses from the last two years were rapidly running out and being dismantled. 

Truth was, you were scared. You knew the types of people that went to those parties. In fact, you knew them a little too well. Which was exactly why you didn’t go out.  

It’s not like you didn’t trust your friends to be by your side, the one who you didn’t trust was yourself, your lack of self-control, and overall lack of boundaries when it came to sexy, beautiful, smart, dangerous, fuck boys who made you feel alive again for one night, only to never speak to you again in the morning.  

Desperation flooded your brain and rushed out of your mouth through your words, “Absolutely not. Nobara, you know how I feel about going out. You have got to stop with this-this.. nonsense already!”  

Regret didn’t hit quick enough.  

Of course you didn’t mean to be so harsh. Nobara, Yuji and Megumi cared about you a lot, they just wanted to spend time with you, which was why it hurt even more seeing the sadness swell in the pretty girl’s eyes. 

“Look, (name), it’s not like we want to force you or anything, but we barely hang out anymore” 

Your mouth opened to protest, wanting to tell her that you do, in fact, hang out several times on campus.  

The short-haired girl interrupted you first, “And no, (name), being with us on campus does not count as hanging out. Even on campus, you always have homework to do, classes to attend. It’s exhausting trying to keep up with your schedule. You don’t even make time for us anymore!” 

Nobara’s eyes were shining with unshed tears when Megumi stepped in again. 

“We like you, (name). A lot. But it always feels like you’re hiding something from us, or worse, don’t want to be with us anymore and don’t know how to break the news. We share even the most embarrassing details of our lives here. Because this is more than a group. It’s a family who doesn’t judge and will always have your back. So, forgive us if it’s hard to trust you when you can’t even explain why you refuse to go out with us.” Megumi took over Nobara’s speech. 

The guilt in your chest was almost as overwhelming as the anxiety of ruining your 'no’ streak. 

One night couldn’t hurt... right? 

[iluvkiss1]

The Rooftops of New York • Short Part

•

the first part of People Like Me Break Beautiful Things.

The rooftops in the lower areas of New York are really compact, they are narrowed one next to the other and they facilitate the running of any human being with the capacity and courage enough to ride on them without thinking that he might fall. Percival ran above them for a long time, barely getting to any interesting points and not getting close enough to his target. The subject who was running from him or more like mocking him he was simply not exhausted, not like Percival, he moved like a strong, agile shadow and crossed the ceilings with a subtlety greater than a cat's. Although in the same way he also got tired, not from running but from being chased.

"I never thought you'd be interested" the man said as he straightened his clothes.

"What?" Percival said as he tried to calm his heavy breathing.

Both of them had run over the roofs of New York like a couple of crazy people. Graves was tired and that was very obvious. The guy in front of him didn't seem to have lost a single solid breath in the process, that was just friendly yet terrifying at the same time.

"Seriously?" he inquired with a wildly ironic tone of voice "Will you face another dark sorcerer again? I didn't think you would be so stupid.

Percival ground his teeth and frowned. He now he truly was upset but he didn't know what to do, fear gripped him faster than anger. How the hell did that man know about Grindelwald, or was he talking about something else and another dark sorcerer?, Percival wasn't quite sure about that and being terrified. In his time inside the hideous cell in which he had been held captive he was never allowed to shave or cut his hair because it would simply have been ridiculous for Gellert to let him do it. Percival, over time, was able to remove his beard but he could never get rid of long hair, he trimmed it down to just shaggy and full of long, straight brown locks but just that.

In fact Percival had forgotten to shave his facial hair but it didn't matter at the moment.

"Fuck off" Graves yelled with all his might.

"Sorry?" he replied as made a gesture with one of his hands over his ear and one of his eyebrows raised "A curse from the mouth of the correct director of security at MACUSA?, what am i supposed to think?

"You killed people, you put the organization and our society at stake!

"Speak for yourself" he warned him "I'm not one of you...

"What are you taking about?" Graves inquired while his breathing had already completely normalized.

Now it could be said that Percival was a bit more confused than before. If the subject was not one of yours, then where was he supposed to be from? Because he was the director of security he had always thought that the man whose name he did not know was simply an obscurian because of his strange evil abilities. But now he was telling him otherwise and Percival had to believe him because a man like that in front of him would lie in many ways but never with something like that.

"What are you then?" he insisted again.

"Well, It's hard to say with just a few words. Of course, here, in your world, I am... a muggle? No, no, of course not! Am I... a animagus maybe?

"Stop playing the fucking jerk. Tell me what you are.

"Do you need it to kill me?," he said" Let's just say I'm not a human, that's pretty clear. There's no need to tell you my story or my family tree so I'll cut things short... I am a different sorcerer, a demon.

Percival frowned and was silent. The man with no apparent identity, to the magician's eyes, took advantage of the disconcerting confusion and blew up with telekinesis or something similar one of the pieces of scrap metal that were stored in the roof where they were both. The piece struck Percival in the side and knocked him to the ground, his head hit the ground violently and simply knocked him out of the game. The subject approached him slowly, hands behind his back. As the mage felt the blood begin to gush from the nape of his neck, the man squatted down and smiled at him, a crooked, wrongly charming grin in Percival's unfocused eyes.

"By the way, call me Walter," he said before darkness was everything.

•

[natureplay]

୨୧Chapter V • Surprise Encounters

୨୧Masterlist

↫Previous Chapter | Next Chapter ↬

Word count: 1.6k

Receiving your paycheck can be one of the best feelings ever, but there is something even better: spending it. Taking out those crisp bills and feeling their crispness between your fingers. It's an incredible sensation. Nothing compares to the satisfaction of knowing that your money is going toward something you need or want.

You are walking around the grocery store, checking off items on your list like some sort of grown-up. It's a strange feeling, considering how you were so used to tagging along with your mother on these trips. But here you are now, all by yourself managing to get everything you need for the week.

You’re walking around the snack aisle, looking at the shelves. A variety of chips and biscuits. Your stomach sends signals to your brain that it’s craving something salty so you grab a large bag of pretzels scanning over it.

Somebody calls your name from behind. When you turn around, you’re met with the familiar face of Eric.

For the past several weeks, he's made it a point to take every opportunity to talk to you. Whether you’re eating lunch with Hunnigan and he just has to join you, sitting at your desk taking a little break or simply passing by in the hallway, he always makes sure to find an excuse to strike up a conversation. Every time he talks with you, you feel his voice blossom and his face warms into a beam of happiness.

You didn’t like that. Well, maybe a little bit. Who doesn’t enjoy getting attention from others? It makes you feel a tad bit more special and wanted. But with Eric was different. Not just because he was borderline annoying with his very obvious interest in you— but also because you don’t date co-workers. You made that mistake already and it ended terribly.

“Hey!” Eric says.

You smile awkwardly and mutter a little hi to him. Eric smiles back, his eyes crinkling at the corners. You didn’t want to be rude and ignore him, though you could do that. Just turn around and leave. Pretend you never saw him.

“How are you doing, kid ?”

‘Kid’. That word immediately brings forth a feeling of resentment within you. It's as if he is superior to you and that you require his guidance to make it through life. You hate the way it makes your skin crawl every time he utters that moniker. You do nothing about it.

“Just doing a bit of grocery shopping. What about you?”

“Same here”

Another thing about Eric is that, yes, he does strike up conversations with you every single chance he gets, but he doesn’t know how to continue them so you’re left standing in an abyss of awkwardness. You’re sure he shares the same feeling.

“Are you excited for tomorrow?”

“I am a little bit nervous but I’m sure we’re going to do great…” You quickly start thinking of any excuse to escape this discomfiting situation.

Eric nods and stares at you.

“Well, I need to hurry. Don’t want to lose the bus. You know how these lines get” You laugh stiffly and start walking away before he can offer to help you by giving you a ride home. Your poor nerves can’t handle that, “See you tomorrow!”

As you’re walking away, you silently say sorry to all the snacks you couldn’t buy today—next time for sure.

You go straight to check-out not wanting to have another encounter with Eric. You told Hunnigan about what he’s been doing. She has the same thoughts as you but she enjoys teasing and making fun of you for it.

The line at check-out is short. Surprisingly, not that many people do their shopping on a random Tuesday evening. Except you and, well, Eric apparently.

You start walking towards the bus station. You're carrying two large and heavy bags in both of your arms. It's definitely giving you a bit of a workout. You can't imagine how sore your hands are going to be.

You didn't buy groceries just for yourself, oh no. The sweet old lady that gave you cookies when you moved on asked very nicely if you could also buy her groceries. You couldn't say no, especially after she said her grandson hasn’t been to visit her in over four months. So, guilt pushed you to help her.

It's not the first time you're helping her. You've helped her with cleaning, grocery shopping, and washing dishes. She always makes sure she gives you a little something in return that is in the form of her baking and cooking. She's been inviting you over for dinner where you both sit on the couch, eat one of her spectacular dishes, and watch the television and yell at the characters when they do something stupid.

The bus arrives in front of the apartment complex and you struggle to carry both of the bags and try to balance yourself.

You get in the elevator—because there is no way you're taking the stairs— and press the button to your floor. You set the bags down to give your poor arms a little break. You used to be a regular at the gym, maybe you should start doing that again. 

The elevator doors open and you're met with the familiar hallway with peeling wallpaper and a questionable taste in tiles.

You enter your apartment first, setting both the bags on a kitchen counter and catch your breath for a little while. You take off your coat and toss it somewhere, not even looking where it lands, just hoping it's on the couch or somewhere nearby.

You take your neighbour's groceries and make the short journey to the door across the hall. You knock twice, taking a moment to wait for a response. While you stand there, you can't help but imagine what Mrs Ledger’s grandson is like. Most likely a loser who doesn’t care about his family.

Mrs Ledger hasn’t shown you pictures of him like any other grandparent would. She said that on the off chance you’re both here at the same time, she wants to embarrass him as much as possible with his naked baby photos.

Your nice neighbour opens the door and greets you with a warm smile.

“Come in, dear,” she says. Her voice is warm and welcoming.

You step into the apartment and you are struck by the familiar scent; it is a combination of nostalgia, reminiscence, and childhood memories that each grandparent has. You can't help but inhale deeply; you remember the days of visiting your own grandparents, and how their homes were warm and inviting. You wander to the small kitchen and set the bag on the counter.

“I hope I didn’t convenience you too much” She starts taking the items out of the bag and setting them down.

“It was no trouble, really”

By this point you know where every time needs to be stored. You grab the two bags of flour and put them away in the pantry.

"Thank you so much, dear, You've been a real help," Mrs Ledger says with warmth in her voice "I spoke to my grandson while you were away. He said he's coming over, to visit" Her eyes light up. So he does remember he has a family.

"That's nice... When is he coming?"

"Just about now, he said he's bringing me dinner" She replied with a wide grin, her cheeks glowing as bright as her spirit.

You nod; You didn’t want to be here when he arrived.

“Do you want to come over for dinner, dear?”

You freeze for a moment. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t. You needed to get all the sleep you could get. Tomorrow you were going to assist Eric Williams on his mission. You didn’t know how long it was going to take, but you knew it was going to be a long and exhausting day.

“I would really love to, but I have this really important thing tomorrow and I need my mind to be—I’m really sorry,” you say sincerely but gladly at the same time.

“Oh, well, that’s too bad. I don’t know when he’ll come visit again” While she still has the smile on her lips, her voice and eyes betray the poor old lady. You can’t help but pity her. From what you’ve heard, she doesn’t have any other family.

“You never know” You smile and head out the door.

“Thank you again, sugar!”

Leon is sitting in his car, head resting against the steering wheel, feeling completely overwhelmed. He's been feeling down for quite a while now and finds himself unable to shake the deep-seated sadness he feels.

Almost four months since his last visit to his grandmother, the only living family he has left.

Life and work got in his way multiple times. And whenever he had time to spare, he was moping around his house trying to get himself to get up and check on her.

He grabs the dinner he promised his grandmother. He still has the spare key she gave him so going inside was no problem.

He walks up the stairs with his head empty and body on autopilot.

He’s about to open the door to the apartment but somebody else opens it for him.

You.

You are standing at the door, looking up at him with confused eyes. He’s equally as confused. What were you doing here?

“Leon!” your voice sounds so surprised. You look back inside, then at him again. Gears seem to be grinding in your head then you make a sudden connection.

“I was just leaving. Good night, Mrs Ledger!”

You almost bump into him in your hurry. You open the door and slip inside your apartment. The one next to his grandmother’s. How interesting.

୨୧Masterlist

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[sualne]

been looking for jobs for three years and in the past two months ish I’ve gotten for the first time my first job interview and for a different job my first job essay.

(I did have an actual job as a comic colorist for like six months but nobody around me considered it a Real Job so I feel like I just never have a job even though I very much did.)

and each time, during the interview where I know realise I was kind of being explained the whole time why I wouldn’t get the job and at the end of the essay(which might not be the right word, like a day we’re your try out the job to see if you can do it) one of the reasons given why I wouldn’t be taken it was ‘we need people who can smile’.

(there were actual argument like being ‘too introverted’ and ‘not dynamic enough’. That last one is funny because i had another ‘almost pass out for no reasons’ moment right for break time (genuinely perfect timing) during the essay and while I was cold sweating and going blind on the bathroom floor I realised, if anyone ever know I have health issues I will never get a job. So being told I wasn’t dynamic enough a fourty something minutes later was straight up comedic).

Back to the smiling, my entire life since I was a literal baby I’ve been told I wasn’t expressing the Right Way. ‘If you feel a specific way you Have to emote this specific way, act this specific way and not do anything else otherwise you’re not actually feeling what you say you’re feeling, it means you’re actually lying, faking it or don’t know what you’re actually feeling because your not showing it the Right Way’ and obviously I’ve dismissed this my entire life because I was sure it was obvious and everyone knew that everyone exist differently and people don’t act the same. I kind of assume everyone that ever bothered me about it was some flavor of 1 having a day and decided to being weird about it to me or anyone else that was also not existing the correct way. 2 just kind of an asshole and therefor they’re opinion didn’t matter. 3 just kind of strange about thing and so be it, ´not my problem tho’ I thought.

But seeing how it’s an actual argument people have use twice now to refuse me a job I’m kind of being thinking, it might actually, for real, be a thing people actually are worried about, actually. Which is wild, but also make sense because people have very much for my whole life, to me and to a ton of strangers, made comments on folks not existing the proper way. Like how in horror someone being slightly off, slightly wrong, a little bit not how it usual should be is the trope of all time. And I love this trope, someone who’s voice is in differed from how they mouth work, someone who seems to not walk directly on the floor but just slightly above it. It’s fun and interesting.

Anyway, real life stuff, being told I’m not smiling enough is wild, like yeah I don’t smile much at all that’s a fact, and both job were about interacting with people and every time you go to a restaurant you’ll ear someone saying out of nowhere mean thing about people who work there. Insane things like ‘I don’t like the way they’re standing’ and over analysing someone expression and body languages when they’re literally just doing their job.

This post is kind of a mess but I had a point which was, I don’t understand people and why are so many mean for no reasons but I wanted it to sound less like a kid complaining and be more verbose about it.

And (this isn’t over yet) I did force myself to smile, like I very much did, I tried my best to be as pleasant and polite as possible. And being told again, this isn’t enough, just suck. Like I have to mask and hide and deal with so much I kind of expected that of all thing I was allowed to keep my face. Like people have bothered me about it my entire life and I’ve dismissed it my entire life because it just did not make sense and I couldn’t make it make sense(still can’t). But I’m genuinely at lost at what to do about it, if apparently I also have to change my face to get a job, that I need to exist the correct way in order to have the damn job in order to exist at all is all so, Not Good.

[naiive-and-starry-eyed]

fandom: black butler, ship: merthur, character: elias bitchard, and also like some bonus ones that u feel like doing

001 | Black Butler:

Favorite character: Ciel Phantomhive tbh, he's rude and fucked up and I like him so much!! The amount of analysis my bestie and I have poured into him and the choices made in the manga and anime and how this is foreshadowing and that is a hidden message,,, Lau is a runner up as my fav tho cause he's hilarious and vibing at all times and I love that for him!!

Least Favorite character: Claude Faustus my behated, hit him with my car ass motherfucker

5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon): Hmm idk if I have 5 ships, but we will figure this out

SebAgni - they are so fun and the fact Sebastian respects Agni is so funny considering Ciel is so bothered by Soma. They simply vibe together and I think they should have gotten to hang out more. Pour one out for Agni 😭😭

Cielois - Idc if Alois is from a non-canon season, he's an icon and it would be so fun and amazing if Ciel and Alois could get over the fact Alois tried to kill him one (1) time and live in Phantomhive manor together and kill Druitt and whoever they want <3

Will x Grell - Grell is a girlboss and it's funny how much she bothers Will; she simps for many characters but I like her with Will the most. Is this decision influenced by the Wil and Grell season 2 OVA? Mayhaps

Lau x winning at whatever he's up to - nothing more to say here, I just hope Lau manipulate mansplain manwhores his way to the top

Othello x vibes - he's doing a great job at his grim reaper forensic nonsense, king deserves a breakthrough and a coffee or 10

Character I find most attractive: *picture my aroace ass giving a blank face here* Lots of conventionally attractive characters but none specifically come to mind lmao, a lot of them are pretty

Character I would marry: Lau, we can be so cool and sexy together

Character I would be best friends with: Soma or Lizzie! They're both fun and energetic and I think we would have a great time dressing up and running around London getting into trouble

a random thought: Manifesting School Arc manga to be animated...or the musical to be subbed where I can get to it *grabby hands*

An unpopular opinion: Sebastian is a fine and well written character and deserves good things! and I think the end of the manga will be him sacrificing himself for Ciel and ending the contract that way, because he cares about Ciel. He didn't plan to care about Ciel in the beginning, but oops, you have acquired a son and you like him so much. The tragedy of Ciel having planned to die all this time but now having lost someone he cares about and who cared about him? And having to live on despite that? *chef's kiss*

My Canon OTP: none?? I don't ship anyone who's actually together in canon rip

My Non-canon OTP: Cielois, see above for my ramblings <3

Most Badass Character: Obvious answer, but Sebastian! He kills people and is iconic while doing it. His LookTM straight out of being summoned in the ritual was also fun, love the high heels his demonic form apparently has. The fact he can kill the shit out of people with fucking silverware is v badass

Most Epic Villain: The Circus Troupe are fun, and I'm counting them as a villain collectively. This doesn't include Baron K*lvin, he's another hit with my car ass bitch. Joker, Dagger, Beast, Doll, Jumbo, and Peter and Wendy are all fun though and I do like that they cause problems and kill people. Unfortunately Sebastian and Ciel were just better at causing problems and killing people. Rip the most to Doll though, you were the best

Pairing I am not a fan of: Ciel x Sebastian 🤢 he's a child worsties

Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): Alois. I don't really love his ending in season 2 - he, Hannah, Claude and the triplets all merge into one consciousness or something?? It's stupid and I hate that Claude is included in anything. I think Alois should have also been able to become a demon with Ciel if they wanted to go that route, or simply have him not die and get therapy but still continue being evil if he wants he's allowed

Favourite Friendship: I really like the friendship between Bard, Finny, and Mey-Rin! They all bonded and are all soo stupid together they're great. Also adding Snake to their mix is fun, even though everyone is lying to him,,, oops 😬

Character I most identify with: Lizzie I think! She's sweet and badass and wants what's best for Ciel, even if she doesn't completely understand what's going on or how he changed from what she remembered as a child. I love that she's super good at sword fighting, and I want to be that good as well!! Next step is sword fighting classes lmao

Character I wish I could be: I love most of the characters but honestly I don't want to be any of them lmaoo; they're all suffering or in danger in various ways and I just want everyone to feel better and so would not like to be in that situation <3

002 | Merthur:

When I started shipping them: Season 1 episode 1 tbh. They have great chemistry and bother each other a lot but also genuinely care about each other which is so important!

My thoughts: Oooh you are not ready for my thoughts on them. Just got done doing a rewatch of Merlin BBC with my bestie and we suffered and exalted together

What makes me happy about them: The way they are willing to sacrifice themselves for each other! Merlin drinks poison for Arthur and Arthur ignores his father and places himself in danger to save Merlin's life, who his father dismisses as a mere serving boy and Arthur's like he's more than that!! to me!! and I just

What makes me sad about them: Girl the everrrryything 😭 the tragedy of Merlin doing all he can to prevent Arthur's death at Camlann but all he does just makes it happen. The tragedy of Merlin becoming so jaded over the course of the show, with how trusting and happy he was in season 1 and how unwilling he was to trust or give Mordred a fair chance in season 5 - especially when it came to the girl Mordred loved. The fact that Arthur never found out about Merlin's magic until it's too late!! That Merlin spends the whole show worried Arthur will hate him when he finds out, and does his best to ensure magic won't return to Camelot and advises Arthur not to trust magic,,,, ough agggh the agonies!!

Things done in fanfic that annoys me: no magic AU or modern AU. Yeah I know the show ends showing Merlin still around in modern day waiting for Arthur, but I don't care! I want them to be around in Arthurian times and causing and solving problems. Throw in angst as needed, but don't put them in a place without magic or in modern day. I also tend to avoid major character death - I'm usually not opposed to it if done right since angst is a good time, but since it happened irl in the show I can't handle it in fic

Things I look for in fanfic: I never say no to a good magic reveal fic!! Especially if it takes a minute for Arthur to forgive Merlin for not saying anything and he's mean about it and makes Merlin feels bad and then feels bad later when he gets over it and Merlin is sad and they work on themselves together. Hurt/comfort type stuff!

My wishlist: That Merlin's magic gets revealed to Arthur sooner than canon and that Arthur comes to terms with it and magic is accepted in Camelot, that Merlin dates Arthur and Arthur dates Gwen and Gwen dates Morgana <3 Also that Uther dies choking on his own blood. Not related to Merthur but also still related to them cause his Huge Bitch disease prevented them from being happy

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: Merlin with Gwaine and Arthur with Gwen! Gwaine and Merlin are so sweet actually, and we see how good Arthur and Gwen are in canon

My happily ever after for them: Merlin is court sorcerer/magical advisor to Arthur, also maybe his royal boyfriend, and they rule Camelot in peace and happiness. Morgana is happy with Gwen and Mordred is vibing somewhere to, maybe with his gf if we want to continue pretending he's straight

003 | Elias Bouchard:

How I feel about this character: absolute bastard, commit as many war crimes and murder as you would like, you are so fun and so cool and it's great when you bother everyone else and sound smug abt it

Any/all the people I ship romantically with this character: Peter Lukas and also Jon. Both are great concepts and I think that fear monsters should harm people together but also kiss kiss fall in love

My favorite non-romantic relationship for this character: Elias, Simon Fairchild, Peter Lukas, and M

My unpopular opinion about this character: I'll be real with you besties, Melanie was kind of annoying and I had fun when he traumatized her on screen in podcast <3 also he should have won the end of the world it was great that he caused the apocalypse

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: I would have loved to get more backstory on Jonah Magnus, or somehow hear statements from the people he hung out with in ye olden times in their own voices! It would also have been neat to hear his own thoughts/feelings on living through a ton of shit - invention of electricity, the car, the airplane, the internet! I would love to hear if he thinks everything is cool and better now or if he's a crotchety old bitch about it and is like "back in my day 😤"

Favorite friendship for this character: Lmao he doesn't have friends!! Best I can do is his friendships in the 1800s where he was prob just using everyone so he could open his funny little eye temple <3 but I will say I liked the statement from him about Barnabas Bennett , so I'll say I liked their 'friendship' 😏

My crossover ship: I don't have many crossover ships, and I can't honestly think of any I'd have for Elias. He's perfectly fine being evil and terrible with Peter or Jon