#society told them to have kids all their friends had kids their parents said you're only valid if u settle down and have kids

[curejiraiya]

I fell back asleep after writing that Kouji Hiro therapy headcanon post and I need you to know that in my mind I wrote a fucking huge Kouji and Ito's parents are two comp het LGBT couples in the 90s forced into settling down and having children because of societal standards and fear of AIDs post. I don't wanna rewrite it but it was glorious in my head. In the end I drew the conclusion that Kouji's mom, Ito's dad, and Ito's mom (what the fuck were any of their names? Was Gen Ito's dad or is Gen the dead one?) are all in a happy triad/throuple and that's a major reason why Kouji and Ito are bad together. Like legitimately the adults were so close even if you're not buying my they were a gay couple and a lesbian couple shit you can agree that now that everything settled Ito's parents wouldn't just leave Kouji's mom out to dry. Before everything they were close friends we see this in flashbacks. I think they adopt her into their family.

[thatbitchery]

So anyway I would like to thank God and also Jesus and also P Diddy for giving me the material to use when I tell my girls you don't want rich friends you just want to be rich and while networks are important there's little to be gained from running around with the elite especially when you have no primary bond like me going to high school with them and our friendship being a natural consequence of being stuck in boarding school together for four years instead of me trying to level up.

I'll say this again, if you're not on the same level, don't run with them they'll despise you and use you. If you want to social climb, target one level above you- just one, not alll the way to Kim Kardashian. Just one. Just one.

Repeat after me, you can get rich without sucking up.

I remember when I made this post about a girl from public school that decided to date some elite reich kid from my school and how I told her it's wrong and how she got used trashed r*ed dumped and y'all were talking to me about *yOuR sToRiEs SoUnD mAdE uP* baby no you're just underexposed. What do you think people that have had too much money on their hands and too much pressure to perform in society and too many expectations from tiger parents look like in private? People that can buy their way out of anything? What do you think they'll do with a someone that is willing to worship them? Back in the day when I said actually no you don't want to marry a millionaire when you're under 26 and when you don't have a lawyer yourself and whoever's underexposed daughter wrote me a paragraph on how my vibrations are low- baby. Ma. Listen to me and listen carefully, because I have NO reason to lie to you. NONE. What will I get huh. What can you give me that I don't have that I need to lie to you to get? No, what. You know who is lying? Your femininity guru. That's lying. Your hypergamy coach telling you to dress in that manly chanel jacket and look lost in tennis will get you trashed.

So anyway THANK YOU P DIDDY again for giving me the ammo I need to say- stay in your lane ma. Make your money and live your life and don't run around with people you're not on the same level with, especially looking desperate af. You're 21. Study and make your money and study finance and make it grow and make friends with people one level above you and use those friendships to level up to that position then keep moving, don't try shooting for the stars gravity will pull that bullet right back to you. It's 2024 you don't need to do all that. If you're not on the same level, be friendly but don't randomly jump into road trips. If your boys in public schools are monsters like that what do you think deca millionaires are like??

Know your place. Stay in your lane. One level higher, steadily , slowly. If you don't belong to that table, don't eat on it .

[gallusrostromegalus]

So, I am begging you here, pls tell me that Ikkaku and Yumichika are still bffs on this AU. I need the violent miss- and yet perfectly matched bastards to still be forever ride-and-die with each other.

Also, all the dropped tidbits relating to Yumichika are gold and I am hoarding them like a squirrel hoards his nuts for winter.

They are actually, for real, legally married.

Ikkaku was 500% ready to fight the entire Gotei-13 when he took the 628-year old marriage certificate he and Yumichika had gotten in 72 North to the Seireitei Records Office to be honored.

Instead, the sole hiccup in the process was the young lady behind the counter asking him to spell Yumichika's surname for her as this document seems to have been... stained, at some point.

"-That's not... Blood, is it?" She asks, concerned.

"Uh. It's actually. Um. Soy Sauce." Ikkaku mumbles.

It would have been less embarrassing if it had been blood.

Turns out, Gay marriage- and indeed, divorce, or changing your name, or gender, or becoming the third, fourth or seventeenth parent/legal guardian to a kid is a nonissue in soul society, because someone complained *once* and Yamamoto declared that, one, he didn't care, and two, the rest of the military commanders were hired off death row, and *this* is what you're complaining about? Fuck off.

But here are some Yumichika Fun Facts:

Everyone in the 11th division has really, really good personal hygiene and well-cared for hands, feet and nails because Yumichika's mother was a doctor at a rural hospital and put the fear of dysentery, cholera, pneumonia, tetanus, sepsis, trench rot and necrosis into him even more than fear of the gods, and he very much continued this sanitary evangelism.

Yumichika's other mother was a drag queen at the brothel that adjoined the hospital and taught him all about hair, makeup, poisons, manners, alley fights, how to play the shamisen, how to make a knife out of anything, flower arrangement and how to curse the hell out of a motherfucker of it comes to that.

Kubo was wrong Yumichika looks out for all his sisters not just his cis-ters.

Kenpachi was friends with Yumichika before either of the ever knew Ikkaku. He met Yumichika shortly after adopting Yachiru when Yumichika saved him from drowning in the river that ran through his home village.

Kenpachi asked Yumichika what he could do in gratitude for saving his life, and Yumichika, seeing his sword, asked if Kenpachi could "give him a real fight, for once"

They had a jolly little scrap that left Yumichika in the hospital for three months, an almost insatiable lust for battle, and a permanent bald scar on the edge of his eyebrow, which is where he glues the decorative feathers he wears.

It also got him (lovingly) told to move out and make his way in the world.

Yumichika met Ikkaku some years after that, when the theater/brothel he was working at hired Ikkaku on as an Emcee and a comedy act in his own right.

Ikkaku loves making people laugh and is damn good at it.

Yumichika was already considering making a move on him when a heckler pulled a sword on Yumichika during his act and Ikkaku beat the shit out of him with a chair without a second thought, and Yumichika decided he was going to seduce and marry this bald little maniac then and there.

It still took the better part of six months, because Ikkaku was convinced that Yumichika was "Way out of his league" and "He's just being friendly to a coworker!".

Things finally became clear when, having reached a boiling point of sexual frustration, Yumichika challenged Ikkaku to a duel, beat the hell out of Ikkaku with Kujaku, and screamed his feelings directly into Ikkaku's face.

"Oh." Said Ikkaku. "Why didn't you say something?"

"I'VE BEEN SAYING THINGS AND SHOWING YOU THINGS AND SITTING IN YOUR LAP AND KISSING YOU FOR SIX MONTHS YOU FUCKING MORON."

"...I may be stupid."

"At least you're also cute. C'mere you sexy cueball."

-and they have been blissfully if dramatically wedded since.

It was many years after that that they had moved on to a different brothel as a duo floor show act, when they got to talking to some of the other working girls about their travels and Yumichika tells the story of how he got his eyebrow scar saving a real freak of a guy from drowning after he got stabbed by a river stingray, but then he challenged him to a fight because- well, he was young and cocky and a small fish, but in a tiny pond- and promptly got his ass beat.

"That's wild!" Says Ikkaku. "I also challenged a random freak with a stingray scar on his leg to a fight because I was bored and- all due respect to you and Kujaku, my beloved - but he gave me a thrashing the likes of which I'd never had before or since. He had his daughter with him was the weird part- he was a real big bastard, face like a cliff, but his girl was this adorable little pink thing."

Yumichika sits up, frowning. "-seven feet tall in socks, big vertical scar on the right side of his face?" He asked, gesturing to his own.

Ikkaku put his drink down and pointed at Yumichika "-and bells in his hair! You fought Zaraki Kenpachi too??"

"Yes! What the hell?" Yumichika laughed. "I wonder where he is now..."

"Oh Gods, he had the WORST sense of direction! He's probably managed to walk in and back out of the Soul King's palace on accident!" Ikkaku giggled

"Well, if he's the same seven foot tall sword bastard with the scarred face and pink little girl on his shoulder as the seven foot tall sword bastard with the scarred face and the pink little girl on his shoulder standing out in the street looking lost as hell, you can go ask him." Said their coworker Sachiko, pointing to the giant standing not a dozen feet away.

"Look Ken-chan! It's YuYu and Baldy!" Yachiru giggled.

"Yachiru!" Yumichika gasped, delighted.

"I TOLD YOU NOT TO CALL ME THAT!" bellowed Ikkaku.

"YOU AGAIN!" Zaraki bellowed, ecstatic. " BEEN A FEW YEARS, LET'S SEE HOW MUCH YOU LEARNED!!"

Ten minutes of incredible violence, twelve minutes of evading the police and twenty-one minutes of getting lost on the way back to the brothel, a bloodied but still standing Yumichika was explaining to the Madame that the giant bastard carrying the unconscious half of her prized floor show duo behind him was, in fact, an old friend of theirs whom she should absolutely hire as a bouncer, you can see how effective he is!

Madame Tsubaki, who recognizes incredible spiritual power and fighting potential when she sees it, and who is still very petty about the divorce from her husband the Shinigami Captain-General, allows herself to be persuaded.

[peaches-and-pity-points]

Tangled AU

I've never liked the isekai angle of Twisted wonderland much. I've deqveloped an alternative way of looking at things to suit my fancy.

Per the name; the player is in a tangled situation. The sole heir to a kingdom, stolen away in the dead of night as a baby and raised by the man (because twst) who took them. Maybe he was in love with the queen, spurned by her rejection and took the only child she'd ever have as penance. Maybe its closer to form and the queen took a plant he needed to keep himself young and alive indefinitely, and the child simply being around had that same effect. Something no one would notice if they weren't looking for it.

Your father home schooled you; taught you everything you know. He restricted your interactions with the outside world and any online activity. But he knew best. He loved you after all, he just wanted to keep you safe. He told you your mother died giving birth to you, that's why he's so protective. You grew up in a cottage, far away from society. The world was dangerous, he warned. You shouldn't trust anyone but him, especially other men! Anyone else might want to hurt you or steal you away.

Magic existed in fairy tails and nothing more, that's what he told you as you did all the cooking and all the chores. Then, one day, you woke up in a coffin to a cat weasel trying to strip you.

The place you come from? These people have never heard of it. Are you sure its real? Of course! Your father wouldn't have lied to you about that. You must have come from another world. You don't have any magic inherent to you, but my! You're a beast-master/tamer! Fear not, this fruity headmage will probably look for a way to send you home! Maybe! After all, the mirror said there's no where you belong!

And its right. You were stolen away from your actual family as an infant. You don't belong there anymore. You don't know them, and they don't know you're even alive. Your father kidnapped you as a baby for his own selfish purposes. You don't belong there. Its not a home or a place of love. Its a prison.

Thus the game's events unfold. Perhaps there's an epilouge of sorts, where you're seen on TV by your birth parents and your "father". You look so much like the queen, there's no doubt you're their child. The headmage is in for such a surprise when this royal couple appear in his office, demanding to see the prefect. They must be mistaken! The prefect isn't even from this world! But, ah... Their child was kidnapped as a baby, weren't they? W- Well, they don't even have magic? What's this? The queen too, is a beast-master/tamer? Oh, w- well... Oh. They-- They know the prefect's blood type, of any and all birth marks and that they may or may not be a girl (depending on the player)? That's disconcerning! Time to meet with them!

I can't imagine it goes smoothly... "You're our kid, actually and the man who raised you is really a monster and kidnapped you as a baby." Yikes. Tough break, prefect. You don't leave with them like they want you to, but they give you space to process this shit. Sharing this development with your friends is mostly fruitless. They offer you support and comfort, but there's not much they can really do for you.

A few nights later, and as Grim is getting snuggly in bed with his hench-human, they suddenly get up. They don't respond to anything he says and they nearly run him over when he gets in front of them! Then, they even go outside barefoot/in just their socks and sleep clothes! Really, its a good thing the school grounds are crawling with your stalkers-- Er, I mean, your friends! One of them catches you on your apparent way to the gates, and carry your ass back to their dorm for safe keeping.

When you wake up, you're wrapped snuggly in bed with Grim. Its just that its a housewarden's bed. After explaining to you what happened, everyone is wracking their brains on who would want to potentially kidnap you. Its strange. You don't remember anything out of the ordinary happening before going to bed. Just that... Well, you could have sworn you'd heard the lullaby your dad used to sing to you as a kid as you fell asleep. But that couldn't be related... Right?

[loving-n0t-heyting]

would be curious to hear more about ur near-expulsion, if you're happy to share! no worries if not

I would never pass up an opportunity to indulge some self pity about my youth!

The long and short of it is tgat i was quite seriously mentally ill in hs—not ever psychotic, which is how a lot of ppl tend to read that, but very emotionally disturbed—and my school was veeeeeery bad at handling this.

Starting end of freshman year i was in a very emotionally abusive relationship, i could give and have in the past given more lurid details but at this point it feels kind of ridiculous to hold that extensive of a grudge against another pretty differently mentally ill 15yo. It came to an end start of junior year, where i told her i was self harming and asked her to tell the counselors about this. She agreed, and their response upon hearing about the relationship was to tell both of us, "Holy shit, you have to break up"

The breakup was a lot harder on me than it was on her, in large part bc i had very little of any remaining friend circle among the other students (see: emotional abuse) and my teachers that semester were for whatever reason less able to talk to me outside of class (i generally preferred adults to fellow kids whenever possible). This led to a situation where i was breaking down fairly dramatically now and then in school, which did not make the school administration very happy

They prolly would have expelled me immediately, had it not been for the fact i was by the numbers an especially promising student. You can read this in a sort of meritocratic way, that i was being rewarded for my intelligence and hard work. But i think the deeper explanation was more crass: as a private religious school with a strong reputation and high overhead, they relied heavily on alumni support to maintain themselves and thought i would be a future cash cow, and so were eager not to lose my future munificence (jokes on them lol). So instead of expelling me they... forcibly isolated me for the rest of the semester, msking me study from home away from all contact with other students. This was (surprise!) terrible for both my academic motivation and my wider mental health

Part of my overall deterioration was that i started posting a ton of mildly insane religious and rightwing shit in long essays on facebook. The importance of sexual repression was one major theme, but also stuff about the metaphysics of angels and Society, the need for a theocratic upheaval of existing democratic institutions, etc. (Also there was one about how the school shouldnt ban the proposed gsa? Which seemed very natural to me but prolly struck others as weird.) This contributed to two deleterious interactions with my school administration. First was a couplr of crazy letters i sent to the administration denouncing insufficient rigour in the theology curriculum and proposed changes in class scheduling to be implemented my senior year. Second was my tattling on a shithead the year above me who started responding to my bizarre essays with screeds about how i was the moral equivalent of a meth dealer, which was technically a violation of school rules leading to mild official rebuke. The school was not at all happy about the first one, and the second would eventually bite me once i returned

Oh, i almost forgot: part of the conditions on returning to school were that a shrink diagnose smth wrong with me thst medication could fix, said shrinks protestations that he couldnt find anything strsightforwardly treatable thru pills not withstanding. Thus began my almost decade long history of coercive administration of psychiatric medications, first fluoxetine and then (after that gave me scrupulosity spirals so severe and immobilising my parents had to call a priest to our home just to hear the worlds most banal confession) mirtazapine, which would regularly induce sleep too powerful to let me wake in time for school and caused me to launch into incoherent delirious fits if my parents tried to wake me for it. (This was not when i was introduced to antipsychotics, which began instead 2yrs later in college after a failed hanging.) So that was fun

I made it back go school the following semester, where i was unsurprisingly just as isolated and emotionally unwell given my lack of any social support and enforced separation from the only person among the students i had previouslybeen close with (my shitty ex). I was incredibly bored and unmotivated, and for the first time in my life started to get failing grades after i continually blew off homework and study

Then, one day, i happened upon a means of relieving my boredom. Sitting in the college admissions lounge i found the guy whod been an ass to me on fb hanging out with his gf, and approached him to start demanding an apology. Obviously he got pretty pissed and refused, so for the time being i left him. But from then on, any time i saw him in the halls vel sim, i would approach him to again request an apology, less out of any expectation he would experience a change of heart than bc it at least gave me smth to do

This reached its summit after a couple of months when, the day of parent teacher conferences, i was sitting in a nearby public library and saw him walking down the street with his gf. Ofc, i followed him and again started pestering him for an apology, to which he this time replied with threats of physical violence. This was apparently quickly reported to the administration as stalking, and my parents were informed of it later that afternoon. They were, unsurprisingly, pretty upset, but let me know later that the school (iiuc) had not yet decided to expel me, but had instead retained the services of a psychologist to determine whether i was suffice sane to be held responsible for my actions enough to expel me. This was the point at which i pulled the "You cant fire me!" with my parents help

It didnt turn out so bad in the end. I was able to start college early at a peculiar but much beloved liberal arts college in my city, where i had a very rewarding undergraduate education leading to a promising graduate school career for 5yrs before similar psychological deterioration (with a much more understanding set of teachers/administrators) forced me to temporarily withdraw, leading to my past 5yrs of faildaughter idleness

Eta: im prolly inordinately self critical about my theologico political juvenilia. It bears the unmistakable quality of in fact being juvenilia but so does, idk, the treatise of human nature. I havent looked at it in ages, i cannot speak much to its merits anymore, but like, if it werent for that stuff i prolly wouldnt have gotten as intellectually far as i did. Even if im still short of where i want to be

[maple-seed]

Thrown - Chapter 23: Lodestar

Summary: Loki learns something new about his own mythology during a camping trip.

Word Count: 2,763

Author's Note: Happy Turkey Day to my American friends, and Happy Thursday to everyone else. Today I'll be attending a Thanksgiving Lunch and then also a Thanksgiving Dinner so if nobody hears from me for the next couple days it's because I'm sleeping off 80,000 calories.

Masterlist

The faces of Fury, Stark, and Rogers gazed out from the laptop's screen. Loki sat stiff in his chair, trying his best to look like a reformed and respectable member of society. He hadn't been the focus of this meeting, it had largely been about the progress of New Asgard, but there was an implied undercurrent that made it clear that his progress was being examined as well. Thor had not been subtle about dropping compliments for his brother into the conversation throughout the meeting. It was obvious that they were still not keen on his lack of imprisonment. He had to stifle his irritation that these men considered themselves arbiters of his fate, and that he needed to appease them. Fury hadn't spoken once throughout the meeting, but seemed to be absorbing everything that was said. Loki wondered how much Thor had told them about Thanos. It seemed he hadn't mentioned the recent incident at the market.

Stark's voice broke through. "In other news, I gotta say, Prancer, we're all very impressed you haven't tried to usurp the king of Norway or whatever." Loki smiled at him with gritted teeth. Thor frowned. "That is not very fair-" "Kidding! I'm kidding, geeze big guy, lighten up." Thor relaxed fractionally. "We have been impressed." It was Rogers speaking now. "Between Thor's reports and the posts on social media-" Loki's brow furrowed. "Social media?" "Yeah." Stark cut in. "It's this thing people use to talk to each other on the-" "I am aware!" Loki paused to check his tone. "I am aware of the phenomenon. I do not participate." "Sure, but the people around you do." Stark quipped. Thor had pulled up a post on his tablet and handed it to Loki.

"You've made Rogers self-conscious." Stark was smirking. "He's really had to up his game, helping old ladies cross the street and such." The captain rolled his eyes. "Loki has been assimilating well." Thor clapped him on the shoulder. "In fact, this very evening we will both be going camping with a human friend...."

Loki let the conversation drift away as he looked down at the post Thor had displayed on the tablet. It was the photo of him with the foreign couple he had translated for at the market. The caption read: "Um?? My parents said this guy helped them buy souvenirs on their vacation???" He scrolled down to the responses. The bulk of the comments were involved in a very heated debate as to whether the man in the photo truly was Loki of Asgard. Points and counter-points were made. Comparisons of photos were bouncing back and forth. He smirked at the vitriol produced by such an inconsequential argument. Further down, a section of comments seemed to have largely devolved into a discussion about mangos. This must be a reference he did not understand. He made a mental note to ask you about it later.

He looked up, as it appeared the meeting was coming to an end. Stark and Rogers images blinked out. Fury's stoic glare was all that remained. "You're doing well." He stated plainly before he, too, disappeared. It was the only thing he'd said in the entire meeting, and Loki wasn't sure who it was directed to. "That went very well, I think!" Thor grinned and stood up from the table.

Loki felt... tired. It was exhausting, keeping up a friendly facade with three men on a screen who, despite a few bits of praise, very much did not trust him and did not want him on their planet. He couldn't blame them, of course. He did throw one of them out of a window, after all. Defenestration rarely builds trust. Still, it was draining, trying to remain polite and courteous to a group who is looking for any reason to see him as otherwise.

At least the day was only going to get better from here. You had invited the brothers to join you on another hike up the mountain, where you intended to spend the night. Loki had his suspicions as to why you had arranged this outing. After the events at the market last weekend and this meeting today, he could use a respite and you seemed to be well aware of this. But then, perhaps you needed one as well.

You loaned backpacks to him and Thor so they could pack their things. He went upstairs to finish doing so now. They would likely be leaving to meet you soon.

**

Your cottage came into view as Loki and Thor worked their way up the road. You were sitting in your chair on your porch, Ash lying at your feet, along with a pack and other supplies. When you noticed them you waved and called from your chair.

"Boys! You ready to go?" "I believe so, yes." Thor called back. "You mentioned there were items you needed us to carry?" Ash had already gotten up to greet the brothers. You stood and motioned to the supplies at your feet. "Just some food and stuff. I hope you left a little space in your packs." "Oh, I'm sure we can manage." Thor said as he looked down at the items on the porch. "Certainly." Loki added. Then, with a quick wave of his hand, he vanished the supplies, leaving just your pack at your feet. You stared at the empty space for a moment. "Right. Duh." You shouldered your bag and smiled. "Let's go, then."

You led them down and across the road, to the same trail as before. The hike up was much more cheerful this time around, naturally. Loki could better appreciate the scenery as well as the company. He and Thor stopped periodically to give you a break, and in a surprisingly short amount of time the three of you stepped out onto the terrace once again. Ash took a drink from the stream while the rest of you took a moment to admire the view. It was no less stunning this time. Most of the deciduous trees had dropped their leaves, but the evergreens stood bright and proud. At the higher altitudes the snow that had fallen in the previous weeks had managed to stick around, capping the surrounding peaks. There were even a few remnants of ice lingering here on the terrace, presumably in places that were shaded in the day.

You gave the brothers the job of gathering firewood and starting a fire while you set up the tent nearby. He and Thor completed the job quickly enough, with just a minor disagreement as to how much firewood was sufficient for a single night. They came over just as you were completing your task, the tent's structure had been assembled and you were arranging sleeping bags inside.

Loki was not impressed by the tent. "Surely this material is far too thin to be of any use in keeping out the elements." He rolled the nylon between his fingers. "Trust me, when we're bundled in the sleeping bags, with the combined body heat of the three of us plus Ash in this thing, we will all be plenty warm." You assured. He remained skeptical but decided to take your word for it.

Dinner was cooked over the fire, and for once you had more than just cursory help. This was familiar territory for the brothers, who had spent many nights camped on hunts or for training outings and thus had plenty of experience cooking outdoors. The meal might not have been as refined as those made in your kitchen, but it was filling and comforting and the joint effort was a delight.

The sight of the sun setting was unparalleled, throwing golden rays and deep shadows across the forest and the fjord and the sea. The three of you sat around the fire talking and laughing well after the stars and moon had risen. Eventually, the call to sleep was answered and everyone retired to the tent. You took one sleeping bag against one side, with Ash lying down next to you. Thor took the next bag and Loki the one on the far side of the tent. Once everyone was settled Loki found that it was, indeed, quite warm. A few more quiet words and jokes were shared before each drifted off, one by one.

**

Loki woke with a start, immediately alarmed by a grating, growling noise. After a moment he calmed, recognizing the source. Thor was deep asleep, and snoring. The tent was illuminated by the moonlight cast through the thin fabric. Loki scowled at this brother for a moment, considering his next course of action when he saw your head rise over the other side of the blond god. Your hair was tousled from sleep, and you leveled a grumpy squint at Thor. Loki had an amused smirk as he shifted up onto his elbow. Your eyes met in mutual understanding, and you questioningly tipped your head toward the door of the tent. He gave a nod in answer, and you unzipped the door, quietly stepping out and pulling your sleeping bag with you. Loki followed and secured the door, leaving the sleeping Thor and Ash, who seemed to be unbothered by the ruckus.

"Snore, God of Thunder." You muttered as you walked away toward the dormant campfire. "That's quite good." "Thanks, I worked really hard on it." Loki scoffed a laugh. "Do you think you can get the fire going again?" You gestured at the charred remains. He placed a few more pieces of wood on the pile, waved a hand, and the fire came crackling to life. You sighed with relief as you sat down against the nearby boulder, your sleeping bag draped over your shoulders. "Magic is so convenient." He took a seat as well. "Yes, I never understood why more of your people don't use it." You laughed. "We have to do things the hard way, I guess." Loki looked out over the vista once more. It was still breathtaking, bathed in the silver-blue glow of the moon. He looked down at you as you shuffled across the ground, huddling against him. "Trying to steal some of your heat." You explained. He chuckled, and gave a lazy wave to the fire, which increased in intensity. "Thanks." You remained against his side. He didn't see the sense in moving.

The two of you sat for a while, admiring the night. Thor's snoring could still be heard in the distance.

"Hey, look, your star is out." You reached an arm out from under your blanket and pointed. "My star?" Loki looked up at the star. It was very bright. "Yeah. Sirius. The Norse called it 'Lokabrenna'." You tucked your arm back under the sleeping bag. "Meaning 'Loki's torch' or 'burning done by Loki'. Or something along those lines, we're not really sure anymore. The story behind it has been lost." He looked up a the star and frowned. "It's Ragnarok." Loki said bitterly. "The burning I cause. Ragnarok. In their stories, I bring the destruction of all the realms in flame. Your ancient people, basic as they were, still knew well enough to cast me as the villain."

You were silent. He regretted it, letting his self-loathing sour the night. It had simply slipped out, risen to the surface unbidden. He took his eyes off the star and watched the fire instead.

After a few minutes you spoke up. "You know the thing that always struck me about the binding of Loki?" He bit back another resentful response, opting instead to hear your thoughts. "What?" "He gets tied up underground with a snake dripping poison on his face, right? After a bunch of other awful stuff, of course. It's terrible, the whole thing is probably the worst punishment they could come up with." You were still gazing at the star. "But his wife is there. She's free, she can do whatever she wants, but she stays beside him and holds a bowl over him to catch the venom. That always stuck with me, that she'd choose to do that, it seemed like its own sort of torture." Your eyes moved from the star down to the fire. "Those ancient people, even when they were dealing him the worst torture they could imagine, they still gave him that. They still deemed him worthy of incredible love and loyalty." You shrugged. "I don't know, it just always seemed significant."

For a moment, he was dumbfounded. Worthy. Of all the words you could have used. He looked at you, but you were gazing at the fire now. He looked up at the star again. It was the brightest one he could see.

"It does seem significant." He admitted. Silence returned for a moment. "Plus," you added, "Some people think Loki was the one that gave humans fire so I think that's just as likely." You looked to him and spoke flatly. "What I'm saying is that you're probably definitely wrong." He couldn't help the smirk. "Probably definitely?" "That's what I said." He chuckled. "In that case I would be a fool not to concede." The two of you quietly watch the fire for several minutes. A particularly loud snore traveled from the tent and you threw your head back in exasperation. "Ugh! Will it ever stop?" "Not likely. I usually have to cast a silencing charm." You looked to him. "You can do that?" "Yes, of course." "Then why are we out here freezing our butts off?" He shrugged. "I assumed you wanted to enjoy my company." "Don't be ridiculous." "I don't believe I was." You brought yourself to your feet. "I want to sleep! Come on."

You marched back toward the tent. Loki extinguished the fire and followed. You stopped outside the door, he snapped his fingers and the grinding snores of Thor abruptly ceased. He opened the door, revealing soundless Thor still sleeping contently, his arm now thrown over Ash. Loki bowed dramatically as he held the flap back for you.

"After you." He gestured to the open door. "My hero." You stepped through.

You both settled back down in your respective places, with a now quietly-sleeping Thor in the middle. Loki stared at the illuminated fabric of the tent and considered his star as he drifted off again to sleep.

**

Sunlight and birdsong drew Loki from sleep once more. Thor was also stirring, and you were currently leaving the tent with Ash following behind. Loki made sure to drop the silencing charm before stepping outside.

The sun was still rising, glittering across a frosted landscape. Loki joined you on a boulder, admiring the sight.

"Is there ever a time when this view isn't breathtaking?" He asked. "I haven't found one yet." There was the sound of stretching and yawning as Thor exited the tent. "Good morning!" He boomed. "I trust everyone slept as well as I did?" Loki turned to him. "Actually we both woke in the night from a terrible noise. Some kind of beast." Thor's brow furrowed. "A beast? What was it?" "It was a bore." "A boar? Here?" Thor looked around the terrace in disbelief. "Yes, a tiresome bore." Loki glanced at you. You were keeping a straight face but it was clearly a struggle. You tried to elbow him surreptitiously but he casually moved out of the way. "I took care of it." "You should have woken me." "I can assure you, brother, that next time we will." Thor watched the two of you carefully for a moment. "There's something you're not telling me." Loki waved dismissively. "It's not important. At the very least it takes second priority to breakfast."

Breakfast was cooked as the sun climbed. A few more hours were spent in leisure, milling about the terrace, chatting, commenting on the view. It was peaceful. Loki lamented when the time came to break camp. Everything was packed away, and the three of you stood at the edge to take in the landscape one more time before climbing back down the mountain.

When the group reached your cottage Loki returned the extra supplies he had carried and they bid you goodbye. You reached up to hug Thor, as usual. Then you gave Loki the same treatment. He didn't object, and over your shoulder he saw Thor's eyebrows rise.

You went inside and the brothers started down the road to New Asgard in silence for several minutes.

"These humans are so insistent on their physical affection." Loki explained. Thor raised his hands in defense. "I didn't say a word."

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[tiredassmage]

For Leo - battery percentage asks - 65%

[battery-percentage themed asks]

65%. How'd they get along with their parents and/or other relatives?

OH, I ACTUALLY HAVE NEW THOUGHTS ABOUT THIS ONE! That I'll also take your thoughts on!

First of all, starting on the semi-more common knowledge of Leo is that Leo didn't get along with either of his parents, lol. Mostly he butted heads with his father, Vorza, but if I'm recalling correctly, his mother was also one of the high-society types we said, and Leo was just never very comfortable in those kind of scenes. There were probably plenty of parties attended where Leo, frankly, couldn't stop messing with the collar of his shirt because it felt scratchy and at least metaphorically suffocating to have to play pleasantries with a bunch of people they only half-knew, at best, or barely knew of at times.

His mother never approved very highly of him either, but Vorza is the one that voiced most of it. Mother's looks were only ever silent, sharply-lined frowns framed by a crooked brow and thick, vibrant lipstick, but Father's disappointment and wrath was always cutting and towering over him. Vorza I think delivered most of his reprimands and... had a bit of a heavy-handed involvement in what expectations Leo grew up with. Be polite, fall in line, behave himself, cut the backtalk, and, eventually, of course, the frustrations that this wasn't hard for his older sister and younger brother to understand, so what made Leo so hardheaded?

So, you can imagine family gatherings and outings were far from Leo's favorite thing. And while I've been chatting with another friend lately, I've also found myself amused Leo and one of my agents, Alucren, must've come out of the same place design-wise for me and I need to stop teasing Tyr about his interest in people with black hair, is kind of the short of it, lol. But long overall story short, I remember bemusement that Leo's the only dark haired kid in the line-up if I recall correctly, so I might've started joking Leo and Alucren might be cousins because ironically they're also exactly the same age. Which has been really amusing to entertain, so I may have found more relations for our kids, if you're down. xD

Because it also implies something really interesting for Alucren and kinda. patches up something I haven't quite worked out for him and that's... that I know, theoretically, Alucren had a positive relationship with his own parents and his three older sisters, but he also refuses to tell me absolutely anything about his parents, so there's nothing particularly conflicting in that potential family-tie. Alucren's family is just heavily involved in domestic projects for the Empire; Alucren's parents were likely either high-profile donors and regular visitors to a number of Kaasi Imperial history and arts museums, or potentially held positions there themselves - and the further back generations and some of the extended family surely did.

Anyway, the capstone of really why this amuses me so much is frankly Leo and Alucren wouldn't get along at face value, lol. Plainly, Leo would think Alucren's an ass (and he'd be at least somewhat correct) and Alucren would share in the majority of Leo's family's disdain for his... [gestures] disorganization? Lack of patriotism for their fine Empire? All I'm saying is that if they are related, they've been dropped at the side of a room by their parents and told to play nice and both of them grimaced deeply about having to put up with one another and Alucren has a by-miles better social poker face than Leo ever did.

And neither of them would be particularly impressed by the other's life trajectory since then. Leo would find him sketchy on principle for being recruited to Imperial Intelligence and Alucren would find some way to make a cutting insult out of course you'd end up a galactic criminal. Family, right? xD

[mashpotatoequeen]

You know how much I love your writing, so I immediately got extremely excited and my brain generated a bunch of MashpotaoeQueen-esque titles. Feel free to ignore any/all of these :)

Kismet

Rainy Days

Sea Salt and Shells

Firefly Nights

In the Atrium

Birds of a Feather

Under a Deep Blue Sky

Purple Prose and Pink Roses

Constellation Making

Dragon Scales and Fairy Wings

As I said, I got super excited, so my apologies for being crazy. I can't title my own stuff for the life of me, but your writing is so inspiring <3

I hope you're doing well!!

Hello My Friend!

Kismet

Okay so. You know me. I love writing fics about Sticky and then labeling them with obscure or peculiar words because it just tickles me pink. So Kismet would most definitely be a Sticky fic.

Maybe it goes like this: Sticky is able to see the strings of fate that tie people together. Like when you meet someone and you're talking and you realise, with all the strength of a sledgehammer to the face, that you're gonna be best friends. Like the ties that keep siblings who are at each other's throats every single day still completely and utterly do or die for each other. The little connection that keeps you calling your best friend even if you haven't seen each other in months. The ties that bind lovers and family and companions and all of it. All of them.

Sticky can see all of them, except for his own.

He gets used to watching them. These little strings of fate wrapped around people's fingers; some of them vibrant and hard as steel and some of them frayed around all their edges. Different colors, different sizes, different woven patterns. The string binding his parents together is a soft orange, almost amber. The threads are fuzzy with age but no less strong for it.

(He realises young that no one else can see them. He keeps his mouth shut. His own fingers are bare. )

Sticky wants to be wanted so damn badly, is the thing. Sticky is surrounded by the way people love other people, and sure in the knowledge that he's destined to have no one.

He's wrong, of course. It just takes new friends and saving the world to figure it out.

Constellation Making

This one immediately brings to mind an AU where Nicholas Benedict (and friends!) are literally in the business of the making of stars. They've got a workshop just south of the Pillars of Creation and a deadline for a new constellation every millennia or so.

Mr. Benedict is a being of magic. One of the Old Ones. He's got stardust in his hair and nebulas swirling in his eyes. He keeps getting chunks of meteors and comets stuck under his fingernails after gently guiding them on course. He sings lullabies to baby stars that are little more than superheated gas and has tea with old white dwarfs every Wednesday.

And then constellations start to go missing. One by one by one.

And that's where our adventure begins.

Bird of a Feather

This is DEFINITELY that wing fic I've talked about before. These winged humans, finding each other and finding a flock with one another, a family the can depend on.

Maybe this would be a one shot set in that universe, where all the Mysterious Benedict Society kids have odd conflated feelings about preening each other's wings. Maybe one of the Executives told them their wings looked messy and that's one of those rules that Are Not A Rule at the Institute- your wings can be however ruffled as you like, as long as the feathers are neatly groomed and in place. There's nothing for it. It's hard to groom your own wings, especially towards the back. They will have to help each other, even though preening someone else's wings is usually really intimate and reserved for close family and friends.

Reynie's never done it- and has never had it done to him. He's so so worried that he's going to do it badly, that he's going to mess it up. Sticky keeps remembering his parents grooming his own wings and feeling a mess of nostalgia and hurt and bone deep sadness. Kate's touchy about her wings, about trusting people with them- she can do everything by herself, she doesn't need anyone- and Constance doesn't even know how to start doing it. Because she is two. And her wings are almost entirely soft baby down feathers anyway.

(They all have soft baby down. They're fledglings at best. They are BABIES and it's very important to me that you know this.)

So anyway. It's a Mysterious Benedict Society Meeting. They are all so nervous. None of them know how to start. It's awful and tense in a way that their gatherings almost never are. But finally Reynie settles himself nervously by Sticky and asks for some help, his cheeks BRIGHT red. Sticky's hands are sort of shaking. He reaches up and starts gently shifting through Reynie's feathers anyway.

And it's- it's nice. It's really nice.

(They are all, coincidentally, also sort of touch starved.)

So it becomes A Thing. At Mysterious Benedict Society meetings, they sit and they talk, and they preen each other's wings. They don't mention it to the grownups, or make a huge deal out of it, but every last one of them definitely rank it as some of the best parts of their day.)

Sea Salt and Shells

I feel like a lot of the kids have never been to the beach. Like- yes. They've been to Stonetown harbour. But a harbour next to a rocky patch of grey city water is not a beach experience.

So I'd like to imagine that, after the events of the third book, the kids and their families go on a proper beach day. They load of the vans with towels and swimsuits and packed lunches stacked neatly into three separate coolers. They have to drive a solid three hours and Constance sings I Found a Peanut at the top of her lungs until Kate gets dangerously close to shoving a towel in her face for the sake of her sanity.

They arrive at the beach sometime around ten in the morning. The sky is clear and blue and the sun is shining and the seagulls are doing their best approximation of singing. It's a gorgeous sort of day that almost feels too picturesque- like it's something from a dream or memory.

But it's right here and right now.

The kids splash around in the water, wading deeper and deeper until their feet don't quite touch the ground and their past the point where the surf breaks. (Constance has a floaty, and a death grip on Reynie's arm. It took her approximately fifteen steps for her emerging doggy paddle to become a necessity.) They bob in the waves like little corks, laughing whenever one of their heads go under. Milligan floats a little ways a way with a set of sunglasses on, eyes closed. It's possible he's taking a nap.

They don't have any paddle boards, but they learn soon enough that you can catch a wave on your belly. Rhonda shows them how to dive under the bigger tumults of water so they don't get swept under, and Number Two hides under the largest sun hat known to man. Mr. Benedict's swim shorts are green plaid, and he's not much better at swimming than Constance - narcolepsy and big bodies of water don't tend to bode well- but he is having a grand time of it.

Reynie and Sticky make elaborate sand castles and Kate works on digging the deepest hole she physically can with a tiny plastic seahorse shovel. Constance, at one point, allows herself to be buried in it until only her head is visible. The others feed her chips one at a time and pour water into her mouth with a seriousness and dedication that defied the silliness of the situation.

(None of the grownups can look at her without laughing.)

They eat lunch on the picnic blankets. Sand gets everywhere, despite their best efforts. Sticky's father has to carry his mother into the surf, but she floats along quite happily once she's there. When Reynie next goes in, it's Miss Perumal who has a death grip on his hand while Constance clings to Kate's next as she cuts through the water like a knife. Sticky sits at the shore and starts identifying different types of seashells, happily mumbling to himself. He'll keep the best ones to be put on display in his room.

They go home wet and exhausted sometime around four, sand hiding in their swimsuits and salt drying on their skin. Most of them slip into sleep the minute the engine starts running, and wake up bleary eyed and starving some hours later. They eat leftovers for dinner in the front yard of Mr. Benedict's house, still in their swimsuits, and talk about going back sometime soon.

The evening sun dips low. The whole horizon is painted golden, and the family watching from below laughs and laughs and laughs.

[ssj2hindudude]

Ok, I don't know if this counts as a Hot Take but...

I did not care for Sukhee (2023)

*Spoiler warning if you haven't seen it and want to*

Ok, before you hit me with the pitchforks and torches, hear me out. I'm all for female empowerment and I'll admit, the main protagonist's life sucked. She was a housewife with barely any time for herself anymore, her husband and daughter took her for granted, and she had to constantly appeal to a society that (as much as I love my fellow Indian peeps) were straight up insufferable. To make things worse, the only person understanding her situation died and she had to pick between a frick ton of backlash and her highschool reunion aka the one shot she had at reconnecting with her past.

But I still had some big problems with the plot:

It straight up ignored the fact that the husband was as much if not more overworked than she was and high-key blamed him for her situation. This man was working himself until he crashed on the bed KO'd not long after dinner. Man was stressed but the movie kept telling him to understand HER situation but not the other way around.

Their daughter wasn't treated much better. Girl had schoolwork, monitoring other students, and a bunch of extracurriculars over her head and the lesson she had to learn was STILL doing stuff by herself. This girl was 15 and she was as stressed and overworked as her parents.

I will never get over how little accountability this movie made her take for her actions. Imagine you just find out your wife posted her cringey high school days on social media, embarrassing everybody, and the next thing you see is the wife of the man you've been trying to make a deal with pulling a wrestling move on him because your wife told him to.

Imagine you work yourself to the bone trying to get a better life for your family and without explaining why it's important, your wife suddenly tells you she wants to go to what you only know is a party while everyone is struggling. And after you tell her no, the first thing she does is go anyway, leaving you and your kid on your own to suffer with her absence. And the next thing you hear is she is going around with some other guy, man was living every man's worst nightmare!

Imagine your mom runs off who knows where, your dad tells you she's not coming back, and after a day of kids making fun of you for it, this random kid you scolded while being a hall monitor tells you you're lucky because you have a mom. I'm sorry, is the lesson here that deadbeat moms should be excused because orphans exist?!?

And the friends make it worse because while they keep supporting her, they keep taking the blame off of her instead of telling her what she did wrong while telling her how to turn her life around. Hum Saath Saath Hain tried to warn us about friends like these but we weren't finna listen. I will not be convinced these women were not trying to get this woman divorced because this whole time they were clearly shipping her with somebody else. And when the daughter tells what she only knows is a deadbeat parent "I hate you" and she cries, they tell her that she's just a kid, she doesn't know what she talking about. Ma'am, this is the same kid you said was old enough to do things herself, is emotional expression not one of them?!?

And Sukhee is never taught to actually express what she's thinking. She never tells her husband why this reunion was so important to her, (in fact she tells him she wants a break from her boring life as though that wording wouldn't have instantly made her cry if the roles were reversed), and their "fight" was her telling him things that could've been easily avoided if they oh I don't know, took time to talk about!

And that ending was what did it for me. Instead of Sukhee taking accountability for running off and leaving her family like that, she gets praised for it by everyone including her husband and daughter. Clear something up for me, is the lesson that whenever women can't express their struggles that the first thing they should do is run away and worry everyone so they'll give her what she wants??? Cause that's the message I got from this.

Can you imagine how much backlash this movie would've gotten if the dad dared to pull anything like this? Imagine if a man felt like he was in a rut, told his wife he wanted to go to a reunion, gets told things are too stressful here for him to run off to some party, goes anyway and leaves them to face society and possible bankruptcy because he wasn't working (or doing other things around the house that people take for granted because men do it), spent time with his friends and some random lady from his past, and comes back with his family clinging to him because they thought he left them forever. The movie would've become a flop the minute he left. The audience would've been screaming at the screen telling this woman to divorce this man and take the kid far away from him and that he deserves to have his life ruined.

Like I said, I've got no problem with female empowerment, but my problem is how this lady was allowed to get away with and put her family through so much with little to no accountability. There's good points about this movie like appreciating and respecting your wife and mother, but for me, the bad points outweigh them by a long shot. Shilpa Shetty is a good actress, but the movie didn't do it for me.

I did not care for Sukhee (2023)

[negative-speedforce]

3, 4, 5, 7, 9 for anyone for the song asks :)

Prompt 4: Somewhere in the end of my hatred there's my grave ahead (YELLOW)

With: My OCs Marie and Qiara

"Marie, you have to start using your head instead of running head-first into situations." Qiara sighed. "You're just... always so angry. Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not, okay?" Marie grit her teeth. "My whole life, everyone's treated me like shit, just because my mom had terrible taste in men. I've been spat on, assaulted in broad daylight, insulted to my face, and called the most horrible things, just because I'm... not like them. Of course I'm angry, Qiara, I had to either cover my ears or pretend to be Vulcan for most of my life, to escape being treated like literal garbage. But I'm not."

"Yeah. I know." Qiara squeezed Marie's shoulder. "I've seen how people go apeshit when they see you, just trying to live your life. You're not a monster or a traitor, you're just a person. You don't deserve that."

Marie sighed. "I know that my temper's gonna get me killed someday, but I can't help it. I'm holding back constantly, trying not to prove them right, that I'm dangerous and volatile, but it's so hard. Then, when someone comes along and pisses me off, I just let it all out. All the rage, all the pain, all the grief for a childhood that I should have been allowed to have. You and Liah were my first friends. Everyone else either hated me or were told by their parents that they were no longer allowed to associate with me."

"That sounds really rough." Qiara said. "I mean, I would offer to turn them all into lizards, but I think you'd probably say no."

"Yeah, no." Marie snorted. "It wasn't their fault, really, at least, not the kids. They were just modeling what they saw from their parents, and they weren't wrong. Romulans don't have a track record for being particularly friendly."

"I mean, that's probably a cultural thing, like, our two societies are so different that we see each other as barbaric. They probably think the same about us."

"Yeah, probably." Marie didn't seem convinced. "The worst part is, when I was in the Collective I- or at least, the tiny piece in the mass that is the hive mind that was me- actually felt like I belonged. I didn't want to leave, at least until you came in. It was the first time in my life that I didn't feel alone, or dirty, or different than anyone else. I was an equal. I was valued. I was powerful."

"I didn't know that you felt that way. If at any point I made you feel bad, or different, I'm so sorry." Qiara kissed Marie's forehead. "But can you at least try not to punch anything that breathes in your general direction?"

Marie shook her head. "No promises."

[petrichor-and-moondust]

Sometimes I find myself sitting down, wishing for One Thing. 

One Thing to look back at and say, this is what caused it. This is the route factor. The One Thing which caused the pain. The illness. The endless doctor's appointments. The worried looks. The long talks. The eggshell walking.

One Thing. To explain the shaking. The anxiety. The panic attacks. To explain the sleeplessness and the scars. To explain all these responses I have to minute occurrences. 

One night, I talk to someone. We're sleeping on the sofa as I explain to her the voices. The actions that weren't my own. The feeling of being on autopilot. She tells me, you're dissociating in those moments. That's what it is. It's a trauma response.

But, I tell her, I'm not traumatised. So I can't be experiencing a trauma response to trauma that never happened. I have loving parents. Who love me and each other. I've always had friends. I am loved and supported in my interests and pursuits.

Sure, I tell her, maybe my parents took a while to come around to the LGBT stuff, and hey, maybe they haven't learned to accept the trans thing, but they're there. And they haven't kicked me out, or stopped loving me, or stopped treating me they way they always have. Maybe I got teased a bit in high school, but nothing extreme. Definitely not enough to count as trauma.

At 2am in the morning, I stare into the sorrow as she looks at me and tells me. 

“Growing up neurodivergent in a neurotypical world is a traumatic experience.”

Growing up queer in a cisgender, hetero-normative society is traumatising.

And I stop. And I laugh it off and we move on to another topic.

But.

But.

I keep thinking about it.

“Growing up neurodivergent in a neurotypical world is a traumatic experience.”

And I think back. To the childhood I remember in a haze. To the kids I surrounded myself with and called friends. I think about them. I think about how they never tried to really learn about my interests, other than sitting while I talked about them. I think about how they never stood up for me when I got made fun of by the boys in our year, and the years above, for liking a "babies show".

It was Pokemon. I was in primary school.

I think about how our "friendship" fizzled out the second we left for high school. They were all going to the same high school. I wasn't. 

And that was that.

I think about the little girl who got along better with the boys. I think about her best friend at the time who said he liked her. I think about how for years beforehand everyone had teased them for "dating". 

We were 10. The only thing I was interested in was drawing cats and reading books.

I think about how she told him she liked him too. I think about how she thought she was being truthful. Because she did like him. He talked to her, and dug up worms with her without calling her gross, and he knew more about Pokemon than anyone else in their class. So she said "yes." She told them they could be boyfriend and girlfriend.

I think about how they never kissed. How really, everything they ever did was platonic. How she had been so conditioned into being forbidden from touching a boy unless they were dating. How she was never taught to express love for a friend. How she didn't know the difference between platonic and romantic feelings.

I think about how their first "date" was going to the cinema. How her mother sat beside them the whole time. They called each other boyfriend and girlfriend and held hands and hugged each other goodbye every day and got each other Valentine's gifts.

Then, a month into high school, just a few months after the whole thing started, they broke up. I think about how they hadn't met up in months. He barely messaged her. She told him she didn't want to be his girlfriend anymore.

Years later, and she hears he told everyone she dumped him because he got glasses.

She had glasses. 

I think about how I was 8 when I got my autism diagnosis. I was 8 when the doctor appointments started.

I was 17 when they stopped. 

I was 9 when my teacher pulled me to the side. I was 9 when he looked at me and said he didn’t think I should put what I had on my introduction for the wall.

I was 9. I wrote that I liked to draw and climb trees. I wrote that I had Asperger’s Syndrome.

Because that’s what I was told. That was the big label they smacked on my file.

I don’t use that term now. I understand the history. The pain that happened to get it. And I refute it. I am autistic. Autism. That is what I have. There is not high-functioning, No low-functioning. No specific labels to sort the “good” autistics from the “bad” autistics. Because there are none. There are autistic people and non-autistic people. That's it.

I was 9 when my teacher told me I shouldn’t announce it to everyone. That I should try and hide it.

I didn’t. I wrote that shit down and I got it stuck to the fucking wall.

And kids read it. And they asked me what it meant. They thought I was sick. Then disabled. I hated that. I wasn’t disabled, I said. I was just like them, but more awesome, I told anyone that asked.

And yeah. I was more awesome than them. But I was also disabled. Even if I didn’t want to admit that out loud, or even to myself.

“Growing up neurodivergent in a neurotypical world is a traumatic experience.”

I repeat it to myself as a mantra. As I think back.

I think about when a mother placed a hat on their kid’s head fresh from the dryer. How it was warm and far too big. How that kid put a badge on it and proudly declared that it was her hat now. Covered it in button badges and wore it to school every day. How she wore it everywhere. Around the house. In school. Going to restaurants. In the middle of summer they walked around wearing an adult man’s thermal hat weighed down with metal button badges like it was armour. And in a way it was.

Every day she walked into class with that hat. Every day, she was told to take it off. And didn't. Couldn't. The hat kept her safe. She needed that hat like a limb. 

I think about how the hat was a comfort item. Still is a comfort item. Maybe it doesn’t get worn every day, but it’s still there. Sewn up and fraying at the seams. But they will always have that hat.

I think about every time a teacher told her to take it off. I think about every raised voice, every pinch of the eyebrows, every exasperated sigh she received. I think about every time she was told to stop fidgeting. To sit properly. To pay attention. I think about how she was still the smartest damn kid in that class when she never paid attention in the way she was told to. The way she was forced to. How she drew in all the margins. How she read books in maths and wrote them in English. How she desperately wanted to fit in, but still wanted to be herself.

I think about how she never consciously masked. How she was always too quiet or too loud, and definitely always, always too weird. Strange. But she paid attention to the little things. The way the girls talked. How they interacted to each other. What they liked. I think about how she never understood it. But she mimicked it. She learned to stand like them, play like them, and talk about boys with them- how they were annoying. How she hated them. How she wanted this one to be her boyfriend. I think about her being put on the spot and pressured into giving up the name of the boy she liked. I think about how no one believed her when she said there was none. I think about how she chose the name of the boy who she was “rivals” with.

I think about the scars on her shins that have long since faded. I think about the concerned looks and hushed voices. 

I think about how the first time she hurt herself wasn’t standing over a sink with a razor blade slicing into her arms like in the movies. I think about the little kid furiously trying to cut her nose off with her duvet cover. The kid walking around with a friction burn over her face for weeks. The kid scratching at her legs like she was trying to dig something out. 

I think about how she was taken back to the doctors. The forcefully cheery rooms with the forcefully cheery woman. Who wanted to know. Who wanted an explanation as to why a bubbly, loving and loved for kid was mutilating themselves in any way they could.

She didn’t get an answer. 

How was an 8 year old supposed to explain something so complex? To say it felt good? To say they didn’t know? To explain they were punishing themselves for being different, being an outsider, being weird?

The kid spent months talking to her. She chalked it up to a sensory issue stemming from autism. She showed her how to make stress balls from balloons and flour. She sent them off with a wave and another inch to the growing file.

I think about how the pixie cut she got when she was 7 paired with the hand-me-down trousers of her brother’s got that girl mistaken so often for a boy. How the kid’s refusal to wear skirts or dresses got her labelled a “tomboy”. I think about the lady who mistakenly called her by a boy’s name. I think of how that name stuck. How often that kid got teased and laughed at and called a boy. Of how much she hated it, because of course she wasn’t a boy. Of course she wasn’t. That wasn’t possible. I think about how really, she didn’t mind being called a boy. I think about the time her brother’s teacher asked her mother to “control her youngest son” when she sat in on a meeting. How she hated him for wanting her to sit still. How she was thrilled at the belief she was a boy. How she smiled quietly at her mother’s lack of correction.

How she sat still for the rest of the meeting to make sure her mother didn’t bring it up again.

I think about how she just hated the teasing. Being seen as different. Being the outsider once again. I think about how she finally had a reason to point to why people teased her. About how she wouldn’t get a single haircut for the next 4 years.

I think about the first person she met who liked the same things she did. I think about how much time they spent together. How they depended on each other. How toxic that became. 

I think about how at the raw and tender age of 13 that movie-moment happened. Under the cover of darkness with a sharpener and a screwdriver. I think about the obsessive tally marks on skin and paper. The lack of reasoning for drawing the blade over and over again. I think about how they went months without being discovered. I think about the obsessive counting of the scars.

15. 32. 40. 

And then they were back in that doctors office again.

I think about the first woman, who lasted three sessions total, once a month. Then the next. Another three sessions. Then the man, who cancelled their third appointment and never rescheduled.

I think about them being tossed like a hot potato from therapist to therapist. I think about how they could never build up trust with them. I think about how unwanted they felt. How hopeless did you have to be to be unwanted by the people who were supposed to help?

52. 64. 72.

I think about the confusion and the fear and the sadness from going through puberty. I think about how much hatred they aimed towards themselves for it. How many names and flags and genders they cycled through to feel like they fit. To feel right.

 I think about how they never did.

I think about his parents who were there every step of the way. I think about his mother who confiscated all of his sharpeners. I remember him thinking about the irony of being an artist unable to sharpen his tools. 

I think about the years of sleepless nights. The nightmares. The sleep-talking. The days where he felt he was on autopilot. The stories from his mother of childhood night terrors and hours of screaming on end.

I think about the voice in their head. I think about the body it belonged to. I think about all the times he was in control. I think about the times they watched him sit on the end of their bed and whisper all their worst insecurities and self-hatreds to them. I think about the times he held their hand when they were scared and told them they would be okay. I think about how no one ever saw or heard him except them. I think about how they had always known he wasn’t real. I think about how real he is to them.

I think about their high school career. Five years of hell. I think about the homework. The exams. The refusal of breaks. The notes about behaviour from teachers. The being singled out in class for fidgeting. The ban on fidget toys. The stares. The remarks. The teasing. I think about the face of bravado and the easy laughs and the dark humour shared with friends. I think about the shoebox on a wardrobe filled with notes passed in class. I think about the relationships made and the ones shattered.

I think about the best friend who turned out to be a creep. Who broke their trust so wholly that they didn’t think they would be able to trust again. All the days of shared classes where hearing his voice gave them panic attacks. Where looking at him made their lungs shrivel.

I think about comments made and the ones unsaid. I think about all the relationships broken from secrecy. I think about queer kids who were terrified to admit it to anyone. Who only shared their pain with those who understood. With those who were the same. I think about queer kids planning how to move out as soon as they could. Queer kids making safety plans for when they came out. Queer kids finding family in each other. Queer kids who run away. Queer kids who don’t.

I think back to the 7 year old crying when her mother found a backpack in their wardrobe filled with clothes and chocolate bars. I think about that kid’s plan to run away. How she didn’t want to. How she didn’t understand the need to. How she felt the need anyway.

I think about the 13 year old’s plans to run away. I think about their whispers under covers to friends who would shelter them. I think about how they never went through with it. 

I think about the pills.

I think about the first ones. I think about the blue ones. I think about the capsules. I think about the powdery dry replacements. I think about the ones split in half. I think about the ones from bottles and the ones from strips.

I think about the ones sat beside the sink and the ones sat beside the bed.

I think about her words.

“Growing up neurodivergent in a neurotypical world is a traumatic experience.”

I think about how much I wish that were wrong.

I think about how much I know it isn't.

I think about the trauma of being different. I think about the trauma of being autistic. I think about the trauma of being queer. 

I mourn the loss of my childhood as I look back at all the trauma that permeated it. I think about how many queer kids will never realise what happened was trauma. I think about how many neurodiverse kids will never realise what happened was trauma.

I think about how I never realised what happened was trauma.

I think about kids who lived through it. Kids who didn’t. Kids who survived the system. Kids who were failed by it.

I think about the 7 year old kid with the pixie cut.

The 8-year old with the new diagnosis.

The 9 year old in the waiting room.

I think about the 10 year old with friction burns on their face and legs.

The 11 year old making stress balls from balloons and flour.

The 12 year old finding a friend.

I think about the 13 year old with the fresh scars.

The 14 year old who tried to explain them.

I think about the 15 year old who overdosed.

The 16 year old who survived.

I think about the 17 year old who was discharged because they aged out.

I think about all the kids who didn’t.

And then I stop. And I breathe. And I think about the 18 year old who is here. The 18 year old who is now. 

The 18 year old who is traumatised. Because growing up neurodiverse in a neurotypical world does that. But I think about how the 18-year old won’t let that define them. How they will survive. And thrive. 

Because traumatic experiences don’t last forever.

And they are so much more than the sum of their past.

They are the cause of their future. 

[fl-project]

[ 💛 || Stereotype ]

" May i ask you a question? " [ Kris looked at the Duke in the reflection of the water in a lake. they both sat down there. Kris always wanders off these kind of forest because it helps them feel the breeze and bliss away from their problems. makes them feel so connected to nature ]

" Sure kiddo! What do you want to ask? "

" mh.. " [ The Dreemurr human picks a flower and torn away the petals ] " how come you are all so good and great despite you're a demon from the daily life you have told me? Aren't Devils all supposed to be evil and chaotic all the time? "

[ Mark just softly smiled and lets out a breath ] " I get that a lot. Yeah we may all seem bad because it is a thing to us here. But! We also do good stuff. To Mortals in your world, Both Heaven and Hell are just role models in your perspective. but to us...It's already a society. Heaven does aaaall the good stuff..while Hell...we can do both... "

" why both? " [ they tilted their head with an eyebrow raised ]

" because Good is more open for everyone in every world. While Bad is a choice. whether it has a reason or not. And that is why for me, I do Bad things when I have to. I don't think doing terrible stuff without a reason don't have some sense to me. We all look bad, talk bad, act bad. But that's just who we are, ya know. But we do good things too like others. Our society is bad but that's just the way things are. it's an element in our world and we can't blame them. " [ The Duke adjusted himself and sat properly. he leaned in closer on the reflection to Kris to make them listen closely ] " There is a saying that this world is filled with universal elements outside of Earth. "

" What is it.? "

" It's Time, Space, Life, Death, Harmony, Chaos, Light, Dark, Love, Hate, any you can name it from everywhere and that everyone has. and here, our element is Death, Chaos, and Dark that builds this place its own world. But! Since Harmony, Light, and Love are more powerful, we are allowed to have those. "

" wow I never thought of that. But- A Bible said about a fruit of everything and the demon encourage them to eat it while God forbids it! was it actually their doing? "

" It is a purpose, kid. A reason to test the humans making a choice. not a foolish thing demons can do. yeah some other demons does alot of foolish stuff but that's their choice. "

" oh alright! no wonder everything says in the Bible that once the apocalypse came, everything is a trial! "

" mhm! Take this conversation as a secret kiddo! The world in there might get easily influenced about it and would cause a massive mess! Our leader wants to take souls everytday but some of us don't want any trouble handling some foolish beings~ " [ he whispered with a wink ]

[ Kris zips their mouth and pretended they never heard a thing ] " I'm just glad you're not actually here to curse me or anything. "

" nah...I have no reason to do so. I'm just here to relax like you do. Why are you here anyway alone in a place like this? "

[ Kris' shoulders dropped gripping the grass. They tgrew a rock on the lake ] " I have...Family issues... My parents were divorced for long and I still have to bare with it...my older brother was away in college and we barely even talk... I just like to runaway from the problems that i'm not supposed to get myself involved. "

[ The Duke scanned the Mortal, sensing that they were speaking the truth. They see some of their memories that they had been lonely ever since. Hard to make any friends at all. He truly felt bad fot them. So he gave a genuine smile with such faith ] " i am very sorry about your unfortunate journey. You should try praying and they will hear your cry. I'm sure you won't feel lonely anymore once they granted your wishes. I hope the best angel of mine could help you~ "

" Thank you, It's been nice talking to you. "

" No problem. Have faith on your hopes and dreams, kiddo. "

[molsons112000]

We're doing it all wrong. We need to put the younger people.We have to stop this isolation of society... Isolating the elderly from the young....

We need to get rid of over 50 communities.We need to get rid of senior centers..... We need to get rid of these things that are focused on isolation like out.Patient care for those that have physical and cognitive issues getting them back in the home.... Lair's grandmother Lily.She left the retirement home and stayed with joy.And joy got to spend time with her mother and kelly got to spend time with her grandmother.... My friend hung he said the parents would live with him and he would take care of them.And I agreed. But it would better if they had independent living like I wasn't to do I wasn't to buy a three story. On the first floor would have been my mother on the second floor my brother on the third floor I would have lived.... My mother was supposed to move in to that apartment in my sister's house and live in my sister's house for the rest of her life with her and her husband and then the grandkids can get their grandmother their great grandmother and their grandparents my sister and husband ....

We have ten thousand people turning sixty five every day and we wanna stuff them in a coffin.... They need to get out in society.They need to stay where they are.They can downside to a town home or a condominium but no senior centers... They need to be mixed in with the rest of society.We have to go back to the way.It was where we integrated society.You had the super bowl the old the middle and young and super young all together intermixing.... As a youth, I spent a lot of time with seniors and super seniors, lots and lots of time with seniors and super seniors. And then when I became older I reversed it and I spent a lot of time with younger individuals mentoring them... Why Do you think I got involved in all the youth ministries on facebook.... But now I don't know about joining these types of group on tumblr..... But there should be this social media. I got my mother on Facebook. Why so she can connect with her daughter? Truly through social media. Her grandkids her great grandkids. So she can stay connected in their life. But also as I told my Sister, all the grandkids should be interacting with their grandmother Going Out.To breakfast or a lunch or a dinner or doing playdates where she comes over and spends time with the grand kids and sometimes she would have the grandkids over to our condominium cause she had a pool and they would go out to the pool together....

My ex jennifer kim went to south korea spent time with her grandmother and her other family members but mainly with her grandmother.... And her grandmother spoke to her a lot about her wife and about things that she needed to understand and things that she thought she should focus on in life and mean her talked about it.She called me from south korea and we actually cry together.... It was amazingly heartwarming and I could feel the love... How much she cared about her grandmother and how much she enjoyed every moment that she got to spend with her..... But we're destroying society.We're isolating all this and taking people out of society.And i'm trying to show you integration and getting everybody back into society..... You're showing me the opposite..... I want the older I want the people to integrate the people with disabilities.I don't want you locking them up in these departments of health and mocking em away in mental health institutions... My friend john he married tracy tracy's head issues since her twenties and she's in society and she's independent and she has a child and they have a good life together... I keep on trying to push it that way.I'm supposed to have a girlfriend and eventually a wife and children just like tracy did and talked to her about all her mental health challenges.... I'm telling you, God is going to kill you.For what you've done to me and what you continue to do to me.He's going to end you all for this terrorism.You put, I'm supposed to be in society.Interacting daily not throw a t v set but personal jesus. I am not supposed to be locked away.Read Jesus in the Bible. He went everywhere interacted all the time.... So running me out of places. These people should be put down for the filth they are..... They are the problem in society and either you put them down or God will put you all to waste, so start.Putting these people down.You kick me out of one place.You should be put to death immediately.... No more fucking around end their lives immediately .. . You have no right to imprison me no right to enslave me . .

Caring for grandchildren makes the elderly gradually enhance intergenerational interaction, and improve self-efficacy [35], thus enabling the elderly to play an important role in social activities, reduce the risk of depression, and maintain good mental health [36].Jan 23, 2022

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov › pmc

The Protective Effect of Caring for Grandchildren on the Mental ...

You're screwing up society.I'm supposed to be the moral leader.I'm supposed to be the trendsetter with how the race kids, how to raise a family.How to date?How to do all these things and you strip me of them how to invest in the market?I'm supposed to be leading by example by living life to the fullest.... That includes sex.I'm supposed to have sex and guide the way on sexual conduct.Not you and stripping a girl out of my life is going to put you to waste .... I'm supposed to be giving the guidance.....

So either you get with the master plan or you'll be eliminated.... You're creating so many false profits.It's unbelievable...

Why do you think it took me a long time to come to this conclusion too. I understood once.I made that statement that it meant eternal death if it's not true. So I choose my words wisely and I say who I am because it is the truth.It is not mental illness.It is the truth of who I am and either you recognize me, and this is what God said in do.Recognize me for who I truly am.This chosen individual as my friend.Raul said enlightened one... And that any hindu would gladly follow my lead.... So either you do exactly what you should do. And if you do anything opposite of this, creating these people that are role models that should not be role models. It should be after my life. That's why we have the New Testament. It is, after Jesus's wife and I was supposed to finish the New Testament. He was cut short.....

In Deuteronomy 18:20, the Bible states that the penalty for a false prophecy is death. This includes speaking in the name of a god other than YHWH, or speaking presumptuously in YHWH's name. 

en.wikipedia.org

False prophet - Wikipedia

It is also possible that it was meant as a slur on Ahab's prophets, such as Zedekiah, the son of Chenaanah. The penalty for false prophecy, including speaking in the name of a god other than YHWH or speaking presumptuously in YHWH's name, is death (Deuteronomy 18:20).

In Leviticus 24:16, the Bible states that the punishment for blasphemy is death. In Jewish law, only blaspheming the name of the Lord is punishable by death. 

Blasphemy is defined as the act of insulting or showing contempt or lack of reverence to a deity, or sacred objects, or toward something considered sacred or inviolable. 

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So we have to stop destroying society and destroying the world.We must reintegrate and we must get this connection from the childhood to seniors to grandparents to super seniors.... And this inner twinement this is ridiculous what we're doing..

[munsonsduchess]

Teenage Kicks

summary: it's 1993, you and eddie both work at the mall and have a friendly not so friendly rivalry going on, really you're just messing with each other until someone calls chicken w/c: 2,777 warnings: kissing, swearing, public make outs, mentions of shitty parents a/n: so i've had two weeks from hell but i should be back on track, i actually really loved writing this because 90s nostalgia is my jam (even if i was only a wee thing in the 90s). as always if you enjoyed this please leave a comment, a reblog, come into my inbox and say hey, whatever floats your boat

(moodboard by me)

Hawkins Indiana in 1993 was not that much different than the same town in 1983 Eddie thought to himself as he packed out tapes and CDs. All that's really changed in the last ten years or so is how the youth buy their music, when he'd been little it was all vinyl records and tapes had only just started to appear on the market. 

He remembers his uncle calling them a fad and saying that nothing would ever come close to experiencing music on a 12 inch disc. Now it seemed as though vinyl was on its way out once and for all as more and more people wanted tapes they could play in their cars or on their portable radios. Granted the battery life in those kinds of radios was nothing to write home about but still it meant not having to drag a whole record player with you whenever you wanted to go someplace and listen to music with your friends. 

The mall too had gotten busier in the last ten years, sure there'd been an outcry from residents and small business owners when the place first opened, but now the place was full of customers from every facet of life in hawkins. 

Hawkins Indiana was split into two sides, ask anyone who lived there and they'll tell you  the same. There was the affluent side of the  town, huge houses with more rooms than inhabitants, monuments to capitalism, kids who shopped exclusively in the Gap and wouldn't be caught dead wearing anything from the sale or clearance ailes. 

Then there was the other side of Hawkins, modest working class family homes, folks struggling to pay the rent or their bills and of course Forest Hills Trailer Park where the so-called dregs of society wound up. Eddie himself being one of those 'dregs' but he'd been called worse and most of the insults that got thrown at him tended to bounce right off the almost impenetrable armour he'd built around himself. You do what you can to survive in a small town when you're markedly different from your peers. 

The only person who ever managed to get under Eddie's skin and stay there was Hot Topic Girl. She had a name of course and Eddie knew her first and foremost by that name, especially since he was accustomed to hearing it screamed from a trailer window at ungodly hours of the day and night. What got under his skin about her was that she seemed to find it so easy to push his buttons and rejoiced in doing so. 

➽───────────────❥

It was shaping up to be another day of selling N'Sync and Backstreet Boys CDs to Yuppies for Eddie when a woman about the same age as his uncle walked into the store and made a beeline for him,

"Is your name Eddie?" she asked seemingly breathless, "I was told to ask for Eddie" 

"That's me, how can I help ma'am?" Eddie was approaching this conversation with trepidation, people usually didn't ask for him by name unless they already knew him. Either from buying music before or from his band,

"The girl in Hot Topic said you could help me find a record" the woman said, "I've been looking for it for months for my sister in Idaho and I was told you'd have it" 

"By the girl in Hot Topic?" Eddie asked, just to be clear on who he was going to hold responsible for this when the transaction was over. He gave some descriptors to the woman to make sure they were talking about the same person,

"Yes that's her! She told me to come straight here and ask for Eddie and that you could help me" 

Eddie grit his teeth and balled his fists by his side. No doubt this woman was going to be a nightmare customer and it was yet another way for Hot Topic to screw with him,

"What record are you after ma'am and I can see if we have it" 

"It's Conway Twitty and Loretta Lynn live in Nashville in 75" 

Of course it was. Fucking country music. 

➽───────────────❥

Sometime that afternoon while you were folding shirts left in disarray by the horde of teens who'd passed through earlier that morning you were alerted to someone clearing their throat, and older man probably slightly older than your mother was standing at the counter with a sour expression on his face,

"Do you work here?" he asked sharply, "because I have been standing here for twenty minutes and no one has come to help me" 

"My apologies sir, I didn't realise you needed my assistance" you smiled sweetly, falsely, at the man and made your way back over to the counter, "how can I help you?" 

"The boy in the music store said you would have something I require" 

"The boy in the music store huh? Let me guess about yay high, curly hair, looks like a degenerate?" Eddie was getting his revenge it seemed for the woman you'd sent his way earlier, "what is it you require sir and I can certainly check?" 

The man went on to explain in great detail exactly what he was looking for and you did your best to school your features so he wouldn't see how irritated you were by his presence alone. You had to give it to Eddie,  he had picked the most annoying person on the planet to send your way.

When you eventually did get the man the items he required and sent him on his way it was time for your shift to end. Good riddance to the mall and shitty customers for another day, as you passed the music store on your way out you made sure to flip Eddie off knowing full well he could see you through the windows.

➽───────────────❥

It usually went on like that, you and Eddie making each other miserable with customers or ragging on each other when you passed in person. Some people just didn't seem to understand the relationship you had with the metalhead, sure you were both in the 'alternative' category, you listened to similar music although you tended to skew more punk or grunge as opposed to Eddie's metal although there was no denying that stuff like Metallica, Korn, Guns N Roses and especially Rage Against the Machine went hard. 

You just enjoyed getting under Eddie's skin to tell the truth, there was something adorable about him scowling at you over the food court or plotting as he stocked out CDs. Sure you had a massive crush on the guy, probably since middle school when he'd played in the school talent show but that didn't mean you couldn't mess with him a little. Or well a lot. 

➽───────────────❥

You didn't usually work the evening shifts, needing to be home before dark most days for reasons you'd only disclosed to the manager who'd hired you. You didn't want anyone pitying you or worse if they knew that the reason you wanted to be home before your mother was so you could ferret away as much cash as you could without her or her boyfriend of the hour noticing. You were saving to get out of Hawkins once and for all, to live a better life somewhere. 

However it would seem that the gods laugh at the plans mortals make because not only was your mother and her boyfriend aware of your stash they'd taken it all and simply left you nothing but a few dollar bills and some loose change. They'd run off to get married somewhere and taken both your money and your car with them. 

So you'd agreed to do as many double shifts as you could to try and rebuild your nest egg up to something close to what it used to be. Which was where you currently were, the closing announcements were playing over the Mall's PA system and any last minute stragglers were making their way out, parents headed home to their families, teenagers heading to a party, carefree with no responsibilities to hold them down. So you went about your closing duties, counting the register, putting stuff back in its proper places where someone had picked something up and discarded it somewhere else, you really hadn't expected the phone to ring and so when it did you almost jumped out of your skin,

"Thank you for calling Hot Topic Hawkins, we're currently closed - " you didn't even get to finish before a familiar voice came down the line,

"I thought that was you, what's up? You never close" 

"We all have our reasons for the things we do, Munson, what's it to you?" 

"Bite my head off why don't you? Can't a guy ask a question?"

You sighed into the phone, you hadn't meant to be so snappy with him, you were just exhausted from everything that was going on recently. Eddie was probably the one person who'd actually understand what you were going through right now,

"My mom and her stupid boyfriend took all my savings and went to get married somewhere, and they took my car so I had to get the bus this morning" 

"Shit that fucking sucks. Did they get everything?" 

"Apart from like five bucks and some change, yeah they cleaned me out. Everything I've been working for gone" 

There was silence on the other end of the line and then Eddie spoke again, 

"You need a ride?" 

You could have jumped for joy. The buses didn't run this late at night after the mall closed and you really really didn't want to walk the ten or so miles in the dark,

"Yeah, Eddie, that would be great. Just let me finish up here" 

"Oh I see how it is. It's Munson until you need something then it's Eddie" there was no malice to his tone and you couldn't help but laugh,

"I mean if it's too much trouble I could probably ask that Hargrove guy in the sports store. He lives in the trailer park too" 

"Absolutely fucking not. That dude is just as likely to try and date rape you or some shit. I'll finish up here and wait on you" 

You both hung up, which gave you time to fly through your closing duties and at least attempt to fix your appearance in the little mirror hanging in the back room for employees before you saw Eddie. He was giving you a ride because he was heading the same way that was it you were sure of it. Still you didn't want to look entirely awful sitting next to him.

Pulling the shutter down as you left the store you saw Eddie leaning up against the wall next to you with his keys in his hands, 

"You ready?" 

"Yup, if the place burns down now it's not on me" 

"Cool, you hungry? I was gonna swing through McDonalds on the way home" 

"Eddie I - " 

"On me, since you're broke and all" 

The way he spoke left no room for arguments so you simply followed him out to the parking lot where his van was sitting. Eddie made a show of opening the door for you and clearing out some of the trash. His over the top spiel kept you laughing the entire ride, he was charismatic and funny and so easy to talk to. 

When you'd both collected your food Eddie drove for a while before coming to a stop at a cliff top overlooking the town, it was a pretty popular make out spot and lovers lane for teens so it wasn't like you were the only ones there. As you both ate you laughed at the squeaking backseat of cars and the steamed up windows around you, the windows of the van themselves steaming up from the food. 

It was so easy to talk to Eddie, even though this was your first full conversation that didn't include name calling or worse, it felt so natural like you'd known each other all your lives. You talked about music, about culture, about everything, admittedly with some arguing thrown in for good measure,

"Kurt Cobain is a hack!" 

"You take that back!" 

"As if! The guy can't play for shit and his lyrics make no fucking sense" 

"Oh ok because exit light, enter night makes so much fucking sense" 

"The song is called Enter Sandman! It makes total sense" 

"You're so wrong Munson like on a fundamental level" 

"Oh so it's back to Munson now? What happened to Eddie?" There was a shift in the atmosphere of the van when he said that and suddenly the conversation wasn't about differences in musical taste anymore, if it had ever been. 

Eddie grinned at you as you rolled your eyes at him, if that's the game he wanted to play then you had no problem following his lead,

"I dunno, maybe if you're super nice to me it'll come back" you said leaning over the centre console to steal one of his fries

"What if I'm not nice?" Eddie watched your mouth as you spoke his eyes not leaving your lips for a second,

"What if I don't want you to be?" 

That was all it took before Eddie grabbed you by the front of your shirt and pulled you against him. Lips crashing against each other in a frantic kiss. Your hands buried in his dark curls, tugging on them every so often eliciting a groan from Eddie and allowing you to lick into his mouth. 

It was all tongues and teeth, hands grabbing onto anything they could reach, time seemed to move slowly, almost as if it had stopped completely and all that mattered was the feeling of Eddie's lips on yours and his broad calloused hands sneaking under your shirt, caressing the expanse of your stomach.

You broke apart at the sound of a loud bang on the drivers side window, as Eddie rolled it down you were both met with the face of Hawkins Chief of Police Jim Hopper shining his flashlight into the van,

"Evening Chief" Eddie grinned, "how can we help?" 

"You can pack it up and move along. I don't care what you're up to but it can't be here" 

"We were just having something to eat, just got off work" you explained batting your eyelashes at the older man, "closing shift in the mall really takes it out of you" 

The Chief just sighed. He knew you both worked in the mall, you'd seen him with his daughter and her friends enough times to know he knew exactly what you both did for employment,

"Well I'm sure you're both ready to get going then, looks like you're all done to me" he gestured with his flashlight to the empty wrappers and drinks, "y'all get home safe now" 

"Of course chief" Eddie smiled before throwing the van into drive and making sure to give the chief a wave before leaving the spot altogether. 

The closer you got to the trailer park the more your mood fell. You'd had an amazing time with Eddie but now you had to leave, your mom and stepdad as you had to call him now were probably at home already which meant they'd be drunk and you'd end up pushing everything you could think of in front of your door to keep them out while you looked for a new hiding place for your money.

As Eddie pulled up outside his own trailer he leant over again and grabbed your hand in his own,

"It's gonna be ok" 

"Thanks but you don't know that" 

"Yeah I do, you're my girl now. I'm gonna make sure you're ok" 

"Your girl? That's awfully presumptuous of you Munson" you laughed, you really hadn't expected him to say that. One time making out in his van and now you guys were dating? Is that really all it took,

"Don't act like you haven't been flirting with me this whole time" he grinned, "I know you weren't just messing with me" 

"Hmm maybe" you returned his grin with one of your own, "but I'm not telling" you hopped out of the van and made your way back to where your own trailer was sitting, "you'll have to stick around and find out" 

"Oh you are never getting rid of me now sweetheart" 

"I'm counting on it" 

That night as you lay in bed and listened to the sounds from outside your window you thought to yourself for the first time in a very long time that, yeah actually, things might actually be ok from now on. Now you had Eddie. 

Taglist: @eddiesmutson @eddiemvnsonss @pillow-titties @prettyboyeddiemunson @hellfireeddiemunson @that-lame-ghoul9000 @xbreezymeadowsmunsonx @boomhauer @flashyourgreeneyesatme @ches-86 @jobean12-blog @shenanigans-and-imagines @anxiousstark @ruinedbythehobbit @winnifredburkleismyhero @slytherinintj13 @inluvweddiemunson @wheaty-melon @lucciaa9 (if you've been striken out it means tumblr won't let me tag you properly)

If you want to be added/removed from the taglist or I've forgotten to tag you please let me know 💖

[kiame-sama]

The Zoldyck's Omega (Yandere!Zoldyck family x Omega!Chubby!Reader)

ABO Au

This is a mix of romantic and platonic yanderes. The kids are strictly platonic yanderes only for obvious reasons. The four primary romantic yanderes are Zeno, Silva, Kikyo, and Illumi. It's also one of my headcannons that Omegas are typically on the shorter side and have a bit more chub on them. Naturally, I made a few changes to the abo universe. (Gammas, Deltas, ect are included)

Warnings; Poly yandere relationship, yandere behavior, abo au, romantic yanderes, platonic yanderes, omega reader, platonic parental yandere, harem style relationship,

~~~~~~~~

Omegas have always been rare, for as long as recorded memory serves, there have only been a handful of these unusual creatures. Only about 1,000 seem to exist in the world at any given time and considering the large population of the world, this number was barely even a fraction of society. The rarity of omegas wasn't the main reason they were so sought after, it was because they held a near irresistible scent that drove alphas to seek them out.

If someone wanted to control an alpha, no matter how strong, they would need an omega to do it.

It was considered a privilege to even be around an omega, let alone mate one.

Deep within the Zoldyck estate three adult alphas and one adult beta conversed quietly amongst each other, a surprising opportunity having come to their attention. It seemed an old friend of the family, Netero, had an unusual opportunity for them.

"You're certain he said an omega?"

"Yes. Apparently she's his granddaughter."

"And he's just going to give her to the family, no questions asked?"

"He is a friend of the family and feels he can entrust her into our care instead of into the hands of some rich stranger."

"He is aware it will be impossible to stay away from her, yes?"

"He's aware and both he and his granddaughter have apparently agreed that should she come here, she will be content as a shared mate."

Zeno hummed and sat back in his chair, contemplating the situation that had presented itself to them. An omega was more than just rare, and here they had an opportunity to have one just brought right to them. The answer was obvious, but some logistics needed to be ironed out first.

"She won't become distressed with several alphas?"

"From what Netero has told me of omegas, an omega can have multiple alphas but they should be the only omega in the household as two omegas would be in conflict."

"Where will she be nesting?"

"Wherever she chooses. Don't you think? She should be allowed to find a place that makes her feel comfortable so she can nest."

"Alright, who gets access to her?"

That question drew a contemplative silence as the three apex alpha males and one beta female thought about it. Where there were clear desires to keep her exclusive to just one alpha in the family, they knew that there would be constant fights over her, which may be upsetting for the omega.

Zoldycks were apex alphas, an alpha's alpha if you will. This meant that those apex alpha family members would be unable to resist the scent of an omega, especially when she goes into heat. Not to mention questions of if the young members of the family should be allowed to meet the omega or if they should be kept far from her.

"The adult apex alphas of the family should be allowed access to her as well as Kikyo, even if she is a beta. The young pups need to be slowly introduced as the scent of an omega can cause clingy behavior in pups given the rather adept parenting instinct all omegas have."

"So that means Milluki- an adult beta- will not be allowed near her?"

"Exactly. That means you, Silva, Illumi, and I have access and Kikyo may approach as well if she feels the desire to. I won't lie, I'm bitter I never had such an opportunity in my youth, but I'll leave her to the younger alphas to mate. I'm content with just the presence of an omega nearby."

"What of Killua? He is an adolescent apex alpha, but still an alpha regardless."

"He won't have a desire to mate until he reaches the proper age of 18 and has his first rut. She will be more like a mother to him, given how young he is."

"Did Netero give a reason as to why he is willing to send his granddaughter away?"

"Because omegas that remain with their parental figures into maturity don't go into heat until after they leave home and preventing an Omega's heat can become deadly if the wait is too long. She will most certainly go into heat shortly after arriving."

"Then is it decided?"

"We'd be fools to turn down such an opportunity."

"Very well, I will inform Netero of our answer."

~~~~~~~~

The estate had been much more lively than ever before due to the impending arrival of an omega. Only nose blind betas would be allowed in or around whatever room the omega chooses as a nesting site. Whatever the omega wanted for nesting was available, from oversized mattresses, to pillows of all kinds of softness, and even to blankets of every different material and thread count.

Naturally, it will go smoother to have the omega choose where she wishes to be and then introduce her to the family as being in a new place without a nest to retreat to could be rather frightening for an omega. She was given complete free range of the estate, finding a closet within a room tucked away deep inside the estate to be the most suitable place for a nest. It didn't really take long for her to settle down, idly making a nest with the nesting material she already had from her previous home and adding in more until that closet space was covered floor to ceiling.

If anything, that nest was unbelievably soft and no doubt would be magnificent just to be in, let alone sleep in.

Now came the part of trying to keep their new omega calm while quite literally putting her in a group of apex alphas, luckily Netero stuck around to help keep her calm with his familiar scent. It was decided that Killua would join the adults in the initial meeting as he is also an apex alpha and his presence should be a soothing one due to his young age. It was up to the omega to decide if she was content staying in the Zoldyck household or not, so they wanted her to be as comfortable as possible so she would stay.

"So why are we waiting again?"

"Because we have an omega moving in today."

"Why does it matter? Seems over the top to me for some random female. ...What is that scent?"

"The omega moving in."

Killua suddenly seemed keenly interested in the omega's scent, having never encountered an omega before given their extreme rarity. No doubt he would react positively to the presence of the omega, already seeming less bored and more interested as the scent became stronger.

Tsubone, one of the head butlers and a nose-blind beta, was the one primarily in charge of the protection and care of the omega as she was a very trusted individual. She was naturally the one who accompanied the omega around the estate while searching for a suitable nesting site, ensuring no one approached or bothered the omega during her search. Now Tsubone would be the one to bring the omega to meet the family.

They had been instructed prior on how to not scare their new addition as well as their omega's name, (y/n). The hope was that (y/n) would react positively to the apex alphas and not like a frightened animal, having lived around the apex alpha Netero for most of her life. In theory, she would react better to apex alphas than she would normal alphas, given her experience.

A change of scent in the air made the waiting Zoldycks straighten up, keenly awaiting the impending approach of (y/n) and Tsubone.

Naturally, Tsubone led the way into the room, guiding you towards the awaiting group that was so eager to meet you. You seemed hesitant but also vaguely interested in the strong alpha scents coming from the group you approached.

Netero primarily stayed to the side, knowing you had to leave his protection eventually, but worried about you all the same. He trusted the Zoldycks, but he wasn't exactly excited to let you go. He had raised you from a pup when his son was unable to care for you as he was far too focused on training. Really, Netero was the only family you had as your mother was gone and you had yet to even meet your father.

You glanced at your grandfather for a moment, almost as if you were asking him what you should do, seeing as he has had to work rather hard to keep alphas away from you. He nodded toward the group that had yet to so much as move an inch, drawing your attention back to the group in front of you. It seemed to be primarily comprised of alpha males minus a single female who carried the scent of a beta.

You could tell by scent alone that these were a different tier of alpha, more like your grandfather in scent as opposed to other alphas that have tried to approach you. These were clearly apex alphas. A part of you didn't want to approach them, feeling a nervousness twist in your gut due to the group you had basically been presented to.

"(Y/n), I believe I have told you about the Zoldyck family before. As you can tell from their scent, they are alphas like me, and they will be able to protect you like I do. You don't have to accept them if you don't want to, the decision is yours."

You slowly approached the group, sniffing the air around you to try and get a sense of each unique scent and individual. They varied in appearance from the tallest being a mountain of an alpha to the shortest who was clearly a young alpha. The young one made you pause, stress coiling in you as you glanced back to your grandfather.

"We've talked about you being a shared mate to the adult alpha family members should you choose to stay here. The beta is the female head of house and you are welcome to take her as a mate as well if you would like. You are not expected to take on any of the children as mates even after they come of age."

His words soothed you immensely, knowing you wouldn't be able to interact with the children without feeling a motherly bond with them, comforted that you weren't expected to mate anyone you felt motherly towards. You were able to relax more now that you could at least gauge where you stood with each individual, aware of who would be a potential mate and who wouldn't based on age. Though you still didn't know what to think of the eldest of the group.

"What are you thinking?"

"... I'm thinking I should stay here for now and if I find I don't like it, I can leave."

Netero nodded, glancing over at the group, almost as if he were having second thoughts about allowing you to stay. He watched the group a moment longer, stroking his beard in contemplation before smiling at you.

"You should be happy here, but you can always come back home if you ever wish to. Never forget I'm here for you."

[belovedharringrove]

society had a way of creating villains and not even being aware of it. they whined and complained about having villains running around their cities but they never stopped to wonder what they did in order to make villains feel the need to manifest their powers for evil.

after lillian hargrove died under the drunken and angry fists of neil hargrove, billy was never the same. his father (and he used this word for lack of a better term) managed to get away with it by saying that she had been drunk and had fallen down the stairs after a few too many glasses of wine.

billy had known the truth. he had witnessed everything- how his father had thought that she had been cheating, how he beat her and she cried and begged for mercy and for billy to just run run runrunrunrun-

but he had been frozen in fear. he couldn't move. and after his father had finished killing her, he turned and pointed a bloody finger at billy and said "watch yourself or you're next." and billy could do nothing. nothing except stay quiet and let the police and investigators think that he had gone mute from the trauma of losing his mother so suddenly.

and he got bullied for it. he was mocked in school and shoved into lockers and beat up behind the gymnasium and the teachers looked on and did nothing to help and billy was disgusted. but what could he do? he was weak. so weak.

he was powerless.

and suddenly one day, some snotty kid a few classes above him was telling him that his mother probably killed herself to get away from him and billy saw red. he blacked out for a while and let the rage consume him and when he came back, the kid was sobbing and pissing his pants and billy was gripping the kid's forearm but his hand was scorching hot, glowing like molten lava from within. he heard the sound of a teacher approaching and let go like he had been burnt.

everything after that was a blur. they called neil and the kid's parents and they spent hours arguing in the principal's office and billy heard neil say "does my son look like someone with freakish powers?" and a part of him wanted to be happy that neil was defending him, but that little part of him was overshadowed by the disgust he felt toward the man for doing what he did to his momma.

when they got home. neil didn't even wait until the door was shut properly before he turned and started screaming at billy and calmed him slurs and names and billy-

billy found his voice again that day. he told neil to shut up and looked for that burning rage in him that he had felt earlier when faced with the bully's harsh words and he once again let it consume him completely.

he thought of his poor momma begging for mercy, of himself trying to hide from a drunk neil thinking he would be next and he thought of himself getting pushed around at school and all the adults looking at him in disdain when he reacted to their words with quiet anger because that's all he knew. anger was his oldest friend and closest companion. always there with him, ready to step in and take control of him when he was tired.

after a few minutes that felt like years, he came back and looked at the pile of ashes innocently sitting where his father had once been standing. he looked at his home with angry flames consuming it and he laughed and laughed. and the more he laughed, the higher the flames grew. until they consumed it all.

_______

steve harrington was his real name.

steve, who usually went by the hero name 'zephyr'.

apollo stood on the roof of the apartment building, looking down at the alley below and watching in amusement as zephyr did quick work of the two troublemakers.

well, he would call them troublemakers. people just trying to live and get by. zephyr would probably call them thieves but eh, tomato tomato.

when zephyr had both troublemakers tied up and placed them somewhere where the police could easily find them, apollo easily jumped down and let what people called his 'hellfire' cushion his fall.

"good job out there today. has anyone told you that spandex makes your ass look absolutely amazing?" he said and leaned against the wall, smirking when zephyr startled and turned to look at him with wide eyes, blinking a few times and then belatedly scowling at him like he had been taught to in the academy. such a good boy. he was taught to hate villains so he did. he was so obedient that apollo wanted to break him.

"not you again. please get the fuck away from me." zephyr groaned and turned around, probably ready to march away from him and go beat up some other poor thug.

apollo had to hold back the urge to laugh because the brunette always made it so easy to tease him. "now steve, i was just giving you a compliment." he said in a chiding tone and watched the other male turn around in surprise, his jaw dropping as he stared at apollo like he just insulted his grandmother or used his real name on him. which he had.

"how do you know that name? that's classified information." zephyr- steve said in what he probably hoped was a stern tone but to apollo, he just sounded nervous and scared. he couldn't hold back his amused laugh this time, which made steve narrow his eyes at him and quickly get into an attack position.

apollo rolled his eyes at that. "calm down, steve. i'm not gonna fight and besides, you and me both know you could never win against me in the first place. you never plant your feet." he scoffed as he pushed away from the wall and approached the spandex-clad hero, pulling him close before he could even think about pushing him away with a gust of wind.

"and besides," he cooed, caressing the brunette's cheek gently and looking deep into his pretty hazel eyes. "i know everything there is to know about you, steve harrington. i know that your parents neglected you and never loved you so they shipped you off to the academy once your powers manifested. i know that the green maiden- sorry, nancy wheeler broke your heart during your academy days and left you for that photographer guy. i know that you're one of the strongest and well-known heroes in america and despite that, your own protégé and teammates and even the press treat you like you're a moron. and you hate it. you despise it so much that it's eating up your insides because you can't say anything about it. because you're a hero, aren't you, pretty boy?" he kept his voice sympathetic yet mocking as he spoke, watching as steve's eyes widened the more he spoke until he looked so heartbroken and hurt that apollo wanted to just eat him up.

"shut up." the brunette spat but apollo knew it was said in a defensive manner. apollo had clearly touched a nerve and poor steve was hurting and lashing out at him.

apollo knew what that was like.

he simply cupped the brunette's cheek and placed a gentle kiss to his forehead. "but i can help. join my army and you'll never be treated like that. we'll treat you like a king. i'll treat you like the most important treasure." he whispered and tried not to smirk at the vulnerable look in those pretty, pretty hazel eyes.

steve looked at him like he was torn, like he didn't know what to do and just needed a little bit of guidance.

guidance that apollo would gladly give.

"just say it, pretty boy."

he urged and just as steve opened his mouth to say it, there came the sounds of police sirens and apollo slowly stepped away, still looking right into steve's harrington's eyes.

"think about it. the offer will always be open, you know where to find me." he said and then he was gone in a burst of flames, ignoring zephyr desperately calling for him to come back.

he needed for him to want him and miss him desperately to go looking for him. then and only then would his plan work.

_______

apollo stood in the shadows as he watched the city of hawkins burn, unseen thanks to nox's powers.

"it's healing to see everything just burn, isn't it? i hope carver's rotting somewhere in there." nox said as he stood next to apollo, absentmindedly playing with his long hair with one hand and holding his girlfriend close with the other.

apollo simply smiled, watching as his beloved looked at the flames with wide eyes.

"billy-" he started and apollo simply hushed him and pulled him close, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, glad that that nox was so busy cheering for the flames to go higher to notice the slip up.

"hush, love. it all started here. they were the first to hurt you. they deserve this." he murmured and wiped away the tears gathering in those pretty hazel eyes, watching him nod his head and press himself close to apollo, seeking his warmth.

"oh shit, tempest. someone's trying to run." came nox's voice and steve turned to look, his gaze going from pained to furious when he noticed it was the mayor. with a flick of his wrist, a gale was picking the man up and dropping him off in the center of the flames, making nox burst into delighted laughter with a 'good riddance, asshole!', which in turn made frostbite quietly scold nox for his language.

apollo only smiled as he pulled steve closer once again, wrapping an arm around his waist.

he still remembered when everyone had seen steve join their side, the horror and heartbreak on everyone's face as their beloved zephyr saved the life of the biggest villain of the century by throwing the former top hero powerhouse aside with a powerful blast of wind, ignoring his wife's cry of 'jim!' as she rushed to his side.

he fondly recalled how pale the green maiden had gone as she watched steve rush into his arms, sobbing for apollo to please help him make everything go away because he was just so tired of everything.

he sometimes still laughed when he remembered the screams of despair when steve's manifestation mark, visible to everyone on the side of his neck, went from a pure snow white to an ebony black.

the mark of a villain.

back then, apollo simply asked nox to cover their escape as he swept steve up into his arms, relishing in the sounds of despair that followed their disappearance.

america's merry band of baboons, their so-called "superheroes", spent months trying to convince steve to join their side again. every time they said he was making a mistake, apollo held him tighter and told him that he didn't need to listen to them. while they focused all their attention on them, nox managed to get america's sweetheart, the heroine icicle, on their side and laughed as the heroes scrambled to make up for the losses of two of their biggest players.

together, all four of them watched as the media took away steve's former hero name zephyr and dubbed him tempest. they all laughed when nox cheered so hard that he made himself go hoarse when they changed chrissy's hero title and named her frostbite.

after that, apollo spent all his free time convincing steve that he needed to start healing.

"hurt those who hurt you." he told the brunette and at first, steve was hesitant. after being a hero all his life, it was difficult for him to start hurting people. but after watching the green maiden easily declare him and chrissy a lost cause, he stepped into apollo's office one day and simply placed a map of hawkins on his desk.

"i'm hurting those who hurt me." steve said and apollo smirked as he pulled the brunette close to congratulate him for being so brave, pressing kisses to his lips and watching him practically melt in his arms.

and here they were now. hurting those who hurt steve.

after this, they would slowly start targeting the people and the companies that hurt those less fortunate and they would become the most feared villains, hated by the rich but loved by those who were treated unfairly. they would have the whole of america fearing every too-dark shadow and every icy chill. they would have them looking over their shoulders in fear whenever it was too warm and they would flinch at every sudden breeze.

but for now, they stood together as they watched hawkins burn, tired of being treated like garbage and ready to make a change. whether america was ready for it or not.

tagging: @every-dayiwakeup