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solarianvoidthearoace · 3 years

Text

Excerpt#1 of my Gerry Keay/OC Magical/Mythical CollegeAU

CN/TW: Social Anxiety, discussion of mental illness, discussion of past trauma, awkward coming-out, miscommunication, misunderstanding, it/its pronouns for Michael Shelley, he/they pronouns for Gerry, they/them pronouns for OC, narrative mention of Mary Keay, mention of alcohol, mythical people living in a parallel society and amongst humans, original character talking German (two sentences; extrapolable from context)

“But sure, you're seeming nice so no problem.” Heaving a relieved sigh, Gerry followed them into the room. The two taking seats in the lower rows of the auditorium, seeing as Gerry’s companion wore glasses. Unpacking their notepads, pencil cases, and Gerry setting up his laptop. There was still time until the lecture was set to begin, so Gerry turned to his table neighbour,

“Your look sends very mixed signals, if I’m being honest.” They grinned, propping their chin up on the back of their hand,

“All the right ones, apparently”, demonstratively looking Gerry up and down. Making them look away, clearing his throat. They laughed,

“Not flirting, don’t worry. I’m Yanis.” He tried masking his relieved sigh best they could,

“Gerry.”

They did pay attention to the lecture, still, Gerry found out a bit more about his dyed ginger saviour. Yanis was in the same semester and some of the same courses has he was. Though they didn’t study for the same engineering degree, there was a decent overlap. Some courses Gerry needed for his software engineering degree much the same as Yanis needed for mechanical engineering. They easily offered they could study together. Yanis having been at the campus since they started their degree and knowing the ins and outs of it.

Having easily found common ground in their discipline of study, as well as their taste in music, Gerry had no qualms following Yanis to the canteen for a late breakfast. They kept chatting, switching back and forth between languages.

“So what if you’re 31?”, Yanis shrugged,

“I also had to take care of my health first. Plus we’re both neurodivergent so starting a college degree at all is more stressful to us. It’s not like anyone is rushing you.” Gerry rolled their eyes,

“Still. Being autist and depressed doesn’t exactly help my case here. That’s ignoring the ADHD and trauma.” A painted-black nail flicked his nose,

“Nope. None of that, you’re not demanded to keep pace with anyone and if your personal reasons bared you from even looking into college education until you were 25, then that’s how it is. Besides, it’s eight years between us. Don’t be dramatic.” Gerry tried to glare but they simply raised a brow in challenge, shutting him right up. While they weren’t in the same major, they compared their course schedules some more and found they were in the same philosophy and ethics courses for their minor. Gerry having decided to not put that on hold and taking the according courses in his semester in Germany as well.

By the end of the day, Gerry felt they had a better handle on his new college-everyday and possibly even made a friend. Which raised a few problems all of its own.

While Gerry had no problem with Yanis finding out what concretely had delayed his life so much, they had another problem. Gerry wasn’t human. And neither was their best friend Michael, for the matter, it being a changeling and his nature chaotic to a fault. Gerry themself was, depending on what one believed, involuntarily threatening to humans.

His mother having been a hulder, a mythical being almost looking like a human. The feature most telling of their mythical nature, though, the fact that they look hollow if seen in the right light, from the right angle. Akin to forest spirits, hulders were drawn by their nature to lure townspeople into forests. Not inherently malicious, of course, their blonde hair and fair skin drawing mostly men in.

With an established mythical society existing in parallel to the non-magical human society, there were laws and proper paperwork surrounding magical and mythical people’s “otherness” and characteristics.

Characteristics which were the life-long obsession of his mother. Her trying to create offspring of her own that would be inherently dangerous to humans and as malicious as she had been. Gerry hated thinking about his father almost more than he hated his mother. But matter of fact was, being half-hulder, and his father having been a river-nix, Gerry was… alluring. Drawing people in without them realising as much if he acted the wrong kind of way towards them. Gerry forced to be constantly mindful of their nature, as to not accidentally harm someone.

Which was why they usually didn’t make friends. Having to make sure the person wasn’t human as to not endanger them.

And yet, they got stuck with Yanis. Gerry was glad it was autumn, the chance of light hitting him in just the wrong way dwindling. But he couldn’t help their worried unease, recognising Yanis and them grew closer.

It wasn’t that Gerry was set out to avoid Yanis, having taken them up on an invitation to lunch and even to revise notes and study together. But Gerry had a bad feeling about it, especially when he grew to see them as a friend. They did try bringing some more distance between them, an attempt so he didn’t need to outright evade Yanis. Declining their invitations more often than not, excusing themself and finding reasons to convince himself it was the right thing to do.

Having forced himself to take a step back, Gerry caught themself looking for them. It had started so he could more easily get around them, trying to deter Yanis from inviting him in the first place so they didn’t have to turn them down as often.

Gerry wasn’t oblivious to their whole demeanour getting muted once it had clicked that he was trying to push distance between them. But seeing Yanis less cheery and energetic made Gerry realise some things about them.

Yanis wasn’t much smaller than him, a few inches at most. But they carried themself in a way that made them stand out. Gerry had learned Yanis had chronic pain, making it hard on them to be on their feet the entire day. Rarely, they wore leg braces, limiting their range of motion further than their chronic pain already did. Still, Yanis was confident and most days glossing over their frequent aches with relative ease. It had been more apparent when they hadn’t been upset but the way Yanis walked was… with purpose. Every step seeming deliberate and not to be questioned. While that cocksure confident way to carry oneself wasn’t all that remarkable, it stood out in Yanis.

And Gerry needed a good long while to figure out why.

Michael had badgered them to get out and socialise. It was the last week before winter break and there was a social happening of the engineering faculty. Gerry had put on a nice button shirt and proper slacks before touching up their black nail polish and putting on a hint of eyeliner.

Yes, he was cautious not to accidentally draw humans in but that didn’t mean he wasn’t allowed to tart themself up. Gerry hadn’t even really planned to talk to anyone, if they were being honest. Just mingling among people and feeling alone in the crowd instead of feeling alone by himself.

That was, until aquamarine and black varnished fingers held a bottle in his field of vision. Gerry couldn’t fight down his smile before closing their eyes. Shaking his head, they just let it happen. Let that gentle affection wash over him for just a moment.

“Thought you might be here tonight”, Yanis held out the drink,

“The crown cap is still sealed.” Gerry pulled a face as to not smile despite themself. He sighed,

“You’re quite persistent.” Yanis raised a rather expressive brow at him,

“If you honestly wanted me gone, you would have told me. So I dare say you don’t want me completely gone. It’s nice having someone who can keep up with my ADHD jumping through topics, plus being able to overlook what allistics call me weird for.” When he finally took the bottle, their smile turned from friendly to bright. He bit his lip, trying to hide it behind the bottle. Yanis offered them their bottle opener.

“Got me there. And yes, having a neurodivergent friend is quite unwinding”, he admitted. Opening the drink, Gerry took them in. A proper once-over. They weren’t primped either but certainly had put thought into their casual suit not clashing with their once-again stark-red hair. Gerry having seen Yanis cycling through vibrant red washing out to ginger, before they went back to dyed poppy-red.

Gerry felt admittedly awkward standing together with them. Very much aware of how they had avoided them after all. Nursing their drinks, they kept quiet. Even though Gerry noticed Yanis also taking in his appearance. After some time he sighed,

“I’m sorry. It’s…”, they broke off, shaking his head.

“Complicated?”, Yanis offered with a huff,

“That’s one way to put it, I suppose.” Gerry raised a brow at them. Before he could ask what they were referring to, though, Yanis turned to him properly.

“Did you notice there’s a dance floor?” They blinked in surprise,

“Uh… yea, I did.” Yanis snorted, taking his empty bottle from them and depositing the glass on a nearby tray for used tableware.

“So, can you dance?”, Yanis’ smile inviting and warm,

“And would you dance with me?” Gerry froze, biting his lip and looking away. He knew they shouldn’t. They were very much aware that Yanis needed to keep their distance from him. He swallowed thickly,

“I can dance but…” Yanis hummed expectantly.

“We shouldn’t, okay? I don’t want to elaborate on that.” Yanis’ face cleared as they gave a soft ‘oh’ of understanding.

When Gerry looked back at them, Yanis was looking at them. The expression in their eyes making him pause. A glint of intent, resolve. But their overall demeanour had changed as well. That deliberate way they carried themself was back, not in a way that intimidated. But even standing next to Gerry, he could see they were moving with an intent, with a conscious focus on the way they moved to get there.

Yanis licked their lip,

“I will respect your turndown. But I would like you to know that I know.” Gerry froze. Raising a brow, Yanis’ tone turned gentler still,

“And I really don’t want to push you towards anything. Or put you up to anything.” Gerry felt his amusement bubbling up when Yanis said as much. The idea of someone human inciting a mythical or magical person to anything at all seemed a bit laughable.

“I’m aromantic myself”, they shrugged,

“And asexual.” Their smile turning into a bit of a smirk, cheeky just around the edges. Gerry’s face cleared in surprise, his jaw dropping a bit. His amusement freezing over with a faint ‘oh’ of their own. Before he grimaced,

“I am aromantic, yes, but that’s not it. I’m sorry, you’re a really nice person. You have been nothing but friendly and a reliable friend at that. It’s…”

Yanis closed their eyes, brows raised, before they snorted.

“Let me stop you right there. I know you have been avoiding me, I have respected that you were avoiding me”, they looked him in the eye,

“If you want me gone, I won’t bother you again. I’ll be out of your hair and we don’t have to even talk again.” Gerry felt his face fall, nervously biting his lip once more. Yanis wasn’t done just yet,

“But if you would like to, I want to get to know you”, a short jerk of their head,

“Properly get to know you. I think both our first gut feeling about the other was that we could become pretty great friends. And that’s all I’m suggesting.” Gerry needed a moment to process that. To let sink in that Yanis was really just curious about his friendship. Something they had so far always had to be wary around. At least until Gerry knew whether the person in question was human. Yanis huffed,

“While you process whether to give us a try, I’ll get us new drinks.” Gerry blinked, then nodded when they realised Yanis was waiting on his okay. Another one of those bright friendly smiles before they turned away. Gerry didn’t know what it was but they followed Yanis with his eyes. Their red hair easy to make out even in the crowd.

Just as he was about to turn away, he noticed something. Yanis was a very body-aware person, conscious and deliberate to a point it might seem standoffish. They had explained how it related to their chronic back and joint pain. But as Gerry watched them move through the crowd, he realised just how easily they moved around people. Almost light-footed, turning out of others’ ways with ease.

Despite them being almost as tall as him, and dressed in dark clothes, something about Yanis’ way through the crowd seemed almost airy.

It didn’t fit. It should have clashed immensely.

As they moved back towards him, Gerry realised what had been so weird about Yanis’ bodily confidence. They didn’t seem to make way for themself. Not at all. While that sureness was clear as day, written all over their most minute movements.

The way Yanis moved was the harsh opposite. Gerry was tempted to call it floaty. He knew they could make a way for themself through people, had witnessed as much a few times in the bustle of the campus. But how Yanis moved around people seemed just as natural.

Not even the slightest touch between them and the people around, as if some shimmer was keeping Yanis from being touchable. Kept up their airy strut, as if they weren’t turning and stepping around people.

The contrast did not make sense. And seeing as Gerry’s best friend was a changeling, well, if things didn’t make sense, it was likely some faerie or other was involved.

Which, on the one hand, would mean Yanis was safe from his own magic. But on the other hand it would raise so many more questions around them. About them.

Gerry couldn’t help his sceptical look when Yanis returned. Frowning at them, unsure whether to trust what they had seen.

“You're looking at me like that again”, Yanis raised a brow at him. Gerry gnawed his bottom lip,

“You’re a bit of a mystery, if I’m being honest.” But took the offered bottle none the less. Yanis’ warm smile returned,

“Well, I suppose it’s on you whether you care to figure me out, then.” An easy shrug as they raised a brow at him.

Gerry didn’t reply. They had not clue what to reply to that. And what they wanted to reply in the first place. Yanis didn’t push him. Much to Gerry’s relief. They fell back into companionable silence, emptying their drinks. When the bottles were empty, Yanis looked at him for a long moment. Searching their face. Yanis’ expression fell a bit, their smile not reaching their eyes anymore. Still, they only grimaced a little before sighing,

“So… have a good night, then.” Taking his empty bottle to take it away with their own, Yanis turned to go. Looking back over their shoulder,

“I guess I’ll see you around.” And with a final shrug and smile, they were gone in the crowd. Gerry stared after them before he closed their eyes and sighed. Silently cursing themself, he turned away from the crowd as well. One hand coming up to cover his mouth. Yanis had been right, if Gerry really had wanted them gone, he could have told them as much anytime. If they had wanted Yanis gone, he could have told them as much when they literally offered to leave him alone.

But Gerry didn’t. Because Gerry hadn’t and still didn’t want them gone.

They spent another few minutes turning things over in his head. What he had to consider if they really tried building a genuine friendship with Yanis.

Once he started looking around for them, Gerry regretted their delay. Not able to make out the red shock of hair, Gerry pulled out his phone. If he couldn’t find Yanis, he might at least tell Michael about his hunch. They had been friends for forever but Gerry still wasn’t all that confident to make out people that were connected to faerie. It was his best idea at the moment but he might just as well be off. Asking Michael for his opinion was a solid thing, also maybe it could distract Gerry if they really didn’t find Yanis again. Which meant Gerry would have to approach them around their next shared lecture.

Pocketing their phone, he looked up and around once more.

And huffed in amusement, Yanis standing almost directly in his line of vision. Albeit turned from them and leaning with their chin propped up over a bar table. Despite having avoided them, Gerry knew their usual posture well enough to see Yanis had to adjust to their pain at the moment. Holding their weight cautiously and reducing tension in their back and legs. Coincidentally, Yanis was looking at their own phone when Gerry came closer. And if he wasn’t mistaken, they were looking at the recent chat chronic between the two of them. The small frown pulling down the corner of Yanis’ lips gave Gerry a weird boost of confidence.

As he stepped up to the table, Yanis looked up.

“Du schon wieder”, they raised a brow but their frown had vanished. The quip good natured and accompanied by a small smile. Gerry couldn’t help smiling themself. With a slight head-tilt, he shrugged,

“Well, I can admit that I went looking for you.” Feeling a blush creep up on him, they tried fighting down his smile. Yanis turned to them fully, still with one elbow leaning on the table, they raised a brow. Giving Gerry a once-over. A short jerk of their head,

“Okay, und?” Gerry took a deep breath,

“You wanted to dance with me”, he shrugged,

“How about that invitation?” Yanis’ smile brightened a bit, stepping away from the table and coming closer. They offered him a hand,

“Your lead or mine?”

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normal-thoughts-official · 3 years

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Do you think the polycule has any holiday traditions?

POLYCULE ASK! POLYCULE ASK! POLYCULE ASK! YESSSSSSSSSS

that's actually a pretty interesting question because the polycule is very culturally diverse. like of course we have simon who's jewish, but the rest is kind of in a weird place. i'm pretty sure shadowhunters don't have holidays at all, and since clary was raised by a shadowhunter and a former shadowhunter, i'm pretty sure she would have been raised without any either? like maybe she'd celebrate the gregorian new year because you know, they have to pretend to be mundane after all, but i think that and birthdays were probably pretty much it for her. oh and halloween i guess which is also not religious-affiliated, are there any other holidays in the states? i guess there's the 4th of july and thanksgiving but both celebrate imperialism/colonialism and i don't want to write about that so i'm gonna pretend there aren't. plus i doubt shadowhunters celebrated those either

so ok we have izzy and clary with no holidays, we don't know whether or not maia is culturally christian and i don't wanna just say "yes" by default... and then there's meliorn whose holidays and traditions will be typical to seelie culture, which are gonna be... unique to them obviously. we don't know how they are celebrated, how long they last, what is the milestone, how or even IF they count time - like maybe they go by when a specific flower blooms and that only happens every 10 gregorian years or some shit. so that's a question mark i guess

and there's also the fact that the seelie realm is very politically closed which. i like to think changes once they get rid of the old queen! but it's still a slow process to just allow other people there. then again izzy was a shadowhunter and she used to hop by so it's probably not a huge deal for meliorn to bring their partners and metamours to seelie celebrations? or at least to the ones that aren't Super Sacred or anything. so like parties and dances and stuff like that? yeah. which i guess brings me back to the other "meta" i wrote about seelie dances (link) and what it would be like for the rest of the polycule to participate in those and shit

then... well obviously there's the gregorian new year which we have obviously just gone through (well, we had when i started answering this ask. it's march now so rip. update it's april now. i'm so sorry anon) so like! i think it was always kind of hell for both raphael and maia, autistic icons, because of all the explosion sounds that just made them feel really upset and feel really stupid for it. with raphael i think it was more bearable when he had rosa because she would spend the day with him and hug him and let him squeeze the stress out you know dauhdasuihda also she was always the one he felt the most comfortable stimming in front of. and then after he lost her it only got worse because on top of the fireworks there was the clear absence of rosa that he just FELT everywhere. you know?

and with maia there's the added trouble of her being AMAB and what with being raised to "black men" standarts of masculinity (to be clear, as in: due to racism black men are expected to be even more macho than white men, ESPECIALLY by nonblack ppl; not as in wow black ppl are so backwards or whatever. white ppl invented gender norms anyway so lmao), she was definitely shamed a lot for being so distressed by the fireworks when she was little methinks. we love that combination of transphobia, racism and ableism! so it was just hard and filled with bad memories. and then once she ran away from home it got marginally better without the constant telling her to "man up" and shit like that, but it still came with the added memories you know

and also with them (plus simon) being vampires/werewolves the hearing gets even more sensitive so that's... fun. meliorn realizes it stresses them out and makes up a special kind of spell that muffles their hearing of background noise, so they can feel more comfortable and for the first time there is not that added stress that comes with the new years and it feels so nice?? they even try watching the fireworks but it's kinda like eh, not that great, especially because even looking at them brings out memories you know doahdsaoh so instead meliorn shows them some magic and it's so much prettier with all the glowing lights and stuff, you know?

maybe after that the polycule starts spending the new years in the seelie realm instead, that'd be cute, just like. enjoying that pretty place with all the lights and shit. i think they would all prepare some kind of light show some way or another like using magic and witchlights and whatnot. that'd be cute

as for other holidays! i think their holiday traditions would start with simon's first yom kippur after he was able to eat solid foods again (shut up a potion WILL be created and i don't accept any other option). before that, with simon being unable to eat, he was also obviously unable to fast. he wouldn't feed during yom kippur but it's not like vampires need to drink blood every day so it's not really the same thing. and it felt particularly lonely that, besides being away from his family and community, he also couldn't fast

i mean obviously simon isn't the only jewish vampire in the world, or jewish downworlder for that matter, so i'm sure he makes jewish friends he would at least get together and pray with for yom kippur, and that's what matters the most, really, but being unable to fast when he wants to and also not being able to participate in the break-fast meal just. sucks djdnudhsus

and then he's able to eat and he can do all that again! but it's also kind of emotionally charged for all of the vampires to fast for the first time when for so long they associated not eating with feeling unhuman, you feel? so like it kind of hits all of them hard

so the polycule decides to make him a little surprise and cooks the break-fast meal for them. clary probably knows what simon and his family used to eat after yom kippur so they try to recreate that for him? and maia and raphael are lowkey nervous about it because they had never made stuff like noodle kugel before and while they could at least try it (yay potion!) they have no idea if it's tasting like it should, ya know what i mean? and it's kind of sweet that they are so worried about making this the best possible experience for simon and the closest to home it can get. and simon is super emotional about getting to eat that stuff for the first time, as well as the other vampires, so you know. it's very emotional all around. but in a good way? and i think after that it kind of becomes a tradition that they make him the break-fast meal after yom kippur too

and then the next years they lowkey fuss over him for the last meal before the fast too, which i'm not sure is something simon would do with other people so they would go ham, dude, particularly raphael because he is a worrier first and foremost. so catch his ass all lovingly planning a meal he can make with zero (0) salt whatsoever so simon doesn't get too thirsty during the fast for MONTHS, planning so he gets the most amount of sustenance, lots of fiber, etc., and simon is like "you know i don't even have to eat, right?" but rapha is just all "you know food still matters" and simon doesn't say anything because it does. it matters a lot

and raphael is all sweetly nervous because like... it is a simple meal, that is the point, but he still wants simon to enjoy it and simon can't stop smiling through the whole thing. raphael and the others also eat it with him too in solidarity before simon goes to the synagogue with his community and it's like a sweet send off you know?

also this is not exactly a celebration or a tradition for that matter but since YK is the day of forgiveness i like to think that eventually simon asks for raphael's forgiveness on YK for the whole rosa thing, and although that isn't religious for raphael, raphael asking for his forgiveness for how everything went down, too. and it's just a sweet moment where they leave this whole story behind and look for a better future - i imagine this happening before they get together, so again, it doesn't really count as an answer to your question, but i just thought i'd include it because i find it sweet

then after that there is sukkot and i just really loove the idea of them helping him build the sukkah (for those who don't know, the sukkah is a hut covered with vegetation under the open sky, where jewish ppl live in for the duration of the sukkot). i know that they could just buy a certified one but where is the fun in that when we could have shenanigans? also i think that that would have been part of simon's personal/family traditions because i bet him and becca loved to build the sukkah for their family. so like on that spirit it is a little sad that they can't help each other with that anymore since simon can't be seen by the rest of his family, but of course as soon as he mentions it and how fun it used to be the whole polycule is Immediately On Board. let's help simon build his sukkah!

first of all other than simon none of them have ever built a sukkah before and simon usually followed becca's lead tbh, also he's just not great to Lead And Control people in general, and the polycule is already messy as all fuck. so it's a disaster, especially with raphael and simon's superspeed and strength thrown into the mix, and meliorn's almost impossible to hold back mischievous nature. izzy is lowkey responsible for keeping them in check and okay now that i think about it clary might have helped simon's family build it before, especially when she was a kid because kids just love that shit, but i don't know if she would remember the steps tbh (read: she wouldn't remember the steps) so yeah all in all the sukkah falls down more often than not and they might have to replace a few materials when simon and raphael accidentally snap their bamboo poles in half. rip

meliorn is probably all like "you are all weak and pathetic, i am a seelie, i can literally control living things. simon needs a vegetable covering? watch me get all the nearby trees to form a beautiful roof" and simon is like "actually the sechach cannot be alive" and meliorn slowly dies because they have no power over dead nature. also simon forbids magic usage in general because this needs to be an authentic building experience for him, so meliorn is left as the most useless one since they only have experience building these things using magic and the help of the trees or whatever

also i bet they would love to go EXTREMELY hard on the lights and decorations. i know that hassidic and to my understanding general orthodox jewish communities don't decorate the sukkah but i don't hc simon as part of those communities so i think he would want to decorate the sukkah. like even if it isn't fully covered in decorations, he would want what few he has to be well done, you know what i mean? like he would want to make the holiday posters himself (i dont know if it would be appropriate for clary to help make these but if it would, she totally would and i like the idea of simon giving her a very specific prompt to make the posters and clary doing it for him, you know? and maybe them all helping paint it with colorful themes), making decorations, and okay, at the very least fairy lightning? please? come on. it's another whole ass dramatic experience to get electricity in there so that's fun for sure, but i think meliorn and maia in particular would be all over the idea of making a pretty lightning system, and simon is definitely not gonna complain because he loves pretty things and the idea sounds rad. raphael smiles fondly through it all and basically saves the day by being the only one with organizational skills who is actually able to help them make a working plan for the sukkah

(catch these idiots making a blueprint. TRY and tell me they wouldn't)

(every year they make a new blueprint and the sukkah has different designs and proportions - always following the requirements like having four at least 32 inches tall walls, of course - and they start completely anew. the sechach must always be new but not the general structure, but they redo the structure anyway because again, it's fun)

and then of course they have meals together in the sukkah for the duration of sukkot and just idk i really dig the idea of the lot of them holding trays of food wearing oven mitts as they get inside and turn on the lights and it feels really nice and sweet you know? and then of course promptly turns kind of messy because it's their way but that's what they want. also, at least once a year they manage to sneak becca in for a meal with simon in the sukkah and they are just both so happy and aaaaa :')

and that's how "kidnapping" becca so she can see simon and his sukkah becomes another tradition lmao. they do it in the most dramatic full of flair way they possibly can while still not being found out and then promptly tell simon all about it in the most dramatic and exaggerated retelling during the meal, which always makes both simon and becca laugh (reality: becca just told her parents she would be off for a few hours to do some school thing or something and then they picked her up and she got a superspeed piggyback ride so she and simon wouldn't miss a minute. their story: "it all began with a carefully planted lie,")

there's also pesach which many (reform) jewish friends of mine have told me they like to do with goyim because the whole point of that holiday is to welcome strangers and share jewish history, so i think simon would like to do that as well. so yeah i think simon would enjoy having them with him during the Pesach Seder - again i think simon would want to be with his other jewish friends but it would be fun because they all could bring their pet goyim that they know would be respectful and nice to have around, run the Seder, and celebrate with them. also for their first one i think simon would have gotten excited about explaining the order/15 steps to them, so like cue lots of fond looks as simon tells them everything about it, how this is the first time he'll be able to have the feast, the four cups of wine, and how he's excited even to have the bitter herbs again. and then over the years they all become pretty much used to the 15 steps, they come naturally, they know what to expect, they already know the story of the Exodus after retelling it every year, and it's nice both when it's new and he gets to share and when it starts to be something in their element because it became their tradition and they want to be there with simon for the holidays, you know what i mean?

then there's purim!!!!!!!! god they would sure have so much fun on purim it gets me really excited to think about. purim might be the one that they get to participate the most in from what i've seen, and i have lots of thoughts about it, like:

first of all, making hamantaschen!! they each make a batch with a different stuffing and it's lowkey a competition and lowkey a surprise and as always with cooking together it is very fun and homey. and also kind of silly as they usually are, but purim is a holiday that is kind of supposed to be silly and for ppl to let go so it matches that mood, you know what i mean? like they're all covered in flour and "stop trying to LOOK at what i'm making!" and blind testing and stuff

then, food gifts! so from what i've seen it is preferable that the food gifts jewish ppl send each other on purim are sent by a third party, which is usually a kid, but they don't know many kids and i really like the idea of the polycule serving as simon's messengers for the day lmao. going everywhere round the shadow world and beyond ("hey mel since you can portal i have this friend in argentina-") and then bringing him the other gifts people send simon in return :)

dressing up in costumes! there is absolutely no way simon doesn't dress up for purim and the whole polycule is absolutely dragged into it, including an absolutely reluctant raphael. it quickly becomes a tradition tho that they change costumes every year and try to make them funnier and more outrageous (as you do) as time goes by. trust the polycule to turn pretty much everything into a competition. and simon always laughs with so much glee and joy when he gets to see what everyone dresses up as so really, how could they say no?

(maia "wins", like, every year. she is totally huge on costumes and her and simon are very attuned in that sense, so, you know. catch her dressing up as memes and just generally making the most creative costumes. she may or may not think them months and months ahead of time)

maybe they hold purim meals with particularly themed costumes every once in a while when they want to spice it up, but i think generally it's more of a freestyle thing

simon also loves reading the purim torah tbh, it's just fun. and then of course there's the megillah and booing when haman's name is mentioned. they are all banned from using graggers because half of them have superstrength and the other half doesn't technically have superstrength but is still super strong and they destroyed the poor thing on accident after the first ten seconds when they tried

food yay! and the very long meal. they usually get pretty drunk, tbh, at least the ones that can. and just generally i think it's one of their favorite celebrations to do together and more often than not ends in them all curled up together in the couch so u know, that's sweet uwu

and then of course rosh hashanah, which is the holiest joyous day in jewish tradition, so of course it's a huge deal for them all. and i just think they would all be super excited about making the evening (especially the meal ofc) the most incredible for simon it could possibly be. again i think simon would want to spend it with his downworlder jewish friends and community, and they probably have their own synagogue they go to together and everything, so obviously they are all involved in making preparations for rosh hashanah, but i like to think the polcyule and simon's friends' pet goyim would help with what they can as well (provided it's not something that should be done by a jewish person like baking the challah; but if not with cooking, they would at least want to help with stuff like decorations and the like. honestly i imagine all of simon's partners sitting together very seriously with a paper in front of them writing down all the stuff they can do to help with rosh hashanah preparations and everything. especially once they learn that like being happy/joyous is a mitzvah so they're just like "we want to make u as happy as possible then :)" and it's sweet and simon may or may not tear up a little)

and then we have other holidays that aren't associated with religion like halloween, which was kind of implied to be the official downworld holiday, so i'm pretty sure they go big on that too. not dressing up because again, one day where they can all afford to be themselves, but definitely meeting up at the hunter's moon, getting spectacularly drunk, roasting the mundane's costumes, and then once they get back to whichever of them's homes, watching some shitty movies and throwing stuff at the screen together

i'm on the fence about día de muertos. i know it's not exactly a sad holiday but i feel like it is for raphael because it kind of represents everything he's lost - his culture and his family, and he can't even go to the parade during the day, you know, although i'm not sure that would have been his thing, but i do think he would have loved to watch the arrival of the monarchs when he was a kid but he'd have to be in méxico for that. and particularly after he lost rosa i just feel like it would have been so emotionally charged for him, you know? he would definitely make her an altar every year and it would be just... big and well thought-out and something really emotional and important for him, welcoming his little sister back the best he can. and i feel like that's something he'd want to do alone because my boy loves to punish himself

but there are little things i think they would have wanted to do with him, and that they might push a little to be able to, like being with him while he eats by the altar and hearing him tell stories about rosita. and i think they would help him "undo" (?) the altar once día de muertos is over, which is always extra emotional for him and aaa. and then the next day they kind of just get to be with him and cuddle a little bit as he recovers emotionally, you know?

also it has just occured to me that raphael is christian shit fuck fart bitch cock. so okay i guess that puts xmas and easter somewhat on the map? again mostly for food. us latinos celebrate xmas on the eve, not on xmas day, and raphael is totally the insufferable xmas meal obsessed bitch who's on the kitchen all day and refuses to let anyone help (he can't pull that particular stunt for the meals they have for simon's holidays obviously but he can on xmas soo). but it's worth it because it is always a great one. and he also gives a lot of thought into getting everyone presents so that is sweet and it earns him lots of kisses on the cheek and stuff. and that's pretty much it for latino xmas, we don't really do stuff i'm still not convinced gringos haven't made up like the socks and the eggnog and xmas music (????) so it's more lowkey. and i think raphael would keep the more religious aspects of it to the stuff he does at church (again, there are downworlder religious communities idk what to tell u) and for the nursery home. which is not to say that like... oh wow xmas is totally not a xtian holiday! or whatever, just that the version the polycule does is more lowkey on the religious aspects and the things they do together on that day are more about being together with raphael on a day that matters to him, you know, especially since again, he is the only xtian and that's gonna be a sensitive thing for simon especially

and i think for easter it is mostly something they do to shower maia in sweets lmao. again she misses chocolate and i'm sure they spend a lot of their time trying to figure out how to get around that, either be by like trying to make special chocolate that doesn't make her sick or sweets that really really resemble chocolate or that are so good she doesn't even mind that she can't eat chocolate anymore. so that's their tradition for easter (and raphael goes to church ofc)

oh yeah and i forgot valentine's day! i have this funny little idea just for the shits where they have this little thing where they setup one-on-one dates for all the parts that are actually together and each of them lasts, like, 10 minutes (poor maia who dates everyone is just running around town) and it's more about the fun of running around from one day to the other like this is a bad romcom where some bastard is trying to juggle having two (monog) girlfriends at once. but then they actually get all together at the end of the day and trade presents and funny cards both among their dates and metamours ("roses are red, violets are blue, you're my girlfriend's girlfriend, and i love you platonically"). usually ending up with them drunk and debating how exactly they got to this overly complicated arrangement and trying to figure out the best way to explain this to an outsider and trying to make, like, fluxograms that explain all of their different relationships visually and they all look so messy it just leaves them more confused lmao. so yeah it's fun

and i think that's all i've got? i say, as if this answer isn't longer than anyone will have the time to read and took me over 4 months to write. but anyway

a special thanks to "a group where non-jews can ask questions about judaism and jews can answer" on facebook and all my jewish friends for helping me write about the jewish holidays and customs. i also used the following sources: Rosh Hashanah (link), how to build the sukkah (link), more on the sukkah (link), how to celebrate purim (link), more on purim (link), how to celebrate passover (link), what is a passover seder like (link), laws of yom tov (link), yom kippur (link), what to eat before and after yom kippur (link), a classic yom kippur breakfast menu (link), menus for the pre yom kippur meal (link). if there's anything inaccurate or disrespectful, however, please let me know, and feel free to add more ideas as well if you're jewish :)

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makaylajadewrites · 3 years

Text

What a Woman

Summary: JJ and Emily seemed to be paying extra special attention to Spencer, and it was hard to hide his discomfort and obvious surprise when they dragged him out of the conference room to have a “talk” as they both put it. But the idea they had in mind was something he would never consider, not even for a millisecond, and to even think of such a situation made his skin crawl.

“Will you at least consider it?” Emily asked desperately, both girls following after him as he searched for an escape in the precinct break room, gravitating towards the coffee maker instantly to pour himself a cup of the black sludge they called coffee in Philadelphia.

“Not even for a second."

Potential tws: hate speech/crimes, homophobia, transphobia, not so nice Rossi, smut

Word count: 7757

Traipsing through his routine in the morning was simultaneously painful and difficult. Every morning was the same; he would wake up at five thirty on the dot and complain and curse for ten minutes about getting up early, then he would drag his willowy frame through his apartment like a wandering specter. Once his Keurig was on, he would vanish into the bathroom where he spent nearly fifteen minutes showering, attempting to tame his wild hair, brushing his teeth, and, much to Derek’s admitted surprise, applying makeup.

Spencer didn’t wear a lot of makeup to work, and in fact it was hardly even noticeable. His under eye bags were dark, almost purple, and it seemed that his perpetual lack of sleep and constant stress from the job was what kept them permanent. But with the concealer and powder he liked to use, it diminished them somewhat, and at least made him feel a bit better about his appearance. It wasn’t socially acceptable for men to wear full faces of makeup just yet, and with Reid’s subtle nature, he would have to deal with it as quietly as he could.

But today, something was different

Derek looked up and greeted him with a fond, “Good morning, baby,” but his eyes quickly flicked downwards to take in the pink sheen over his diamond-shaped lips. Reid smiled shyly, leaning in to kiss him and when he pulled back, Derek looked somewhat dazed and surprised. But he said nothing, and Spencer was grateful for that. He turned away and proceeded to collect the coffee mug that Morgan had prepared for him while he was in the bathroom. Once Derek took his own shower and readied himself for the day, they set off to work

Now that they were a couple, Derek seemed to be having a difficult time in keeping his eyes off of Spencer, at home, at work, on dates… All the time, really. Spencer had questioned him about this with a bit of humor in tone, and Morgan explained that it was because he realized just how pretty Spencer was, from his fluid movements to his somehow graceful composure. But Reid was quick to shut that down, since he found it difficult to accept compliments regarding his physical appearance - especially his normal, every day appearance. He was too awkward, too stiff. He didn’t know what to do with his hands sometimes and his autistic tendencies would often appear in the expression of silent stimming, rather it be in the form of flapping hands or wiggling fingers. He was a freak, but Derek was appalled by that word and assured him that he was, honestly, quite precious. Derek always had an incredible protective streak, but Spencer never expected to be on the receiving end of that, especially not in such an intimate way.

It must have been his lipgloss today, because Derek was practically undressing with his clothes the second they stepped into the bullpen. Reid had a habit of wrapping his lips around almost anything he got his hands on, but even as frequently as he mentioned how unhygienic as it was, he still had a tendency of biting on a pen cap or keeping one of the little black coffee straws in his mouth - That probably wasn’t helping Morgan’s vivid imagination.

Prentiss had taken a keen interest in the couple, commenting briefly on the shared glances between them over the past month or so and often encouraging them to ‘get a room’ without actually understanding that they were in fact involved with one another. Spencer knew that they needed to be careful, hence his disparity towards PDA and any form of more-than-friendly interactions. They couldn’t afford to be figured out, not unless they both wanted to lose their jobs or be reassigned within the Bureau. But today, she just seemed desperate to point out the obvious change in Reid’s appearance, particularly his new addition to his usually bare face.

“Lipgloss today, Reid?” Prentiss asked, not unkindly and mainly more curious than anything. Reid’s head popped up from where it was bowed down over his desk, a pen fitting between his parted, shimmering lips. He smiled around the cap, nodding his head shyly.

“O-Oh, yeah… I was feeling a little bold, today, I guess,” he said in a bashful murmur, his chestnut curls falling around his pretty face. He looked over towards Morgan, thick lashes batting innocently against his high cheekbones while he offered him a hesitant smile.

“I like it! It’s pretty. Brings out the color in your cheeks,” Emily observed fondly, and Spencer seemed to brighten up considerably. That was a considerable compliment, especially since he had the complexion of a zombie on his good days. He popped the pen out from between his lips, sitting up a bit straighter and crossing his slim legs effortlessly under his desk.

“You think so? I still think I look a bit washed out on normal days,” Reid said. Morgan looked a bit incredulous, but JJ happened to be walking by in that very moment with case files in hand.

“Reid, you know much I like to prove you wrong, but today we don’t have time. We have a case,” she said, patting the stack of files in her arm with one hand and clicking off up the stairs and towards Hotch’s office. The trio shared a look before getting up and heading towards the roundtable room in a group. They took their seats, side by side, but Reid wandered off towards the break room to fix himself another coffee before they had to get into the nitty gritty and bloody details. Because who could stand looking at mutilated bodies without overly sweet coffee? Certainly not Reid.

When he returned, everyone was inside and waiting for him, and he muttered a sheepish apologize while scurrying to his seat beside Derek who just acknowledged him with a fond smile. Rossi looked at him a bit strangely but said nothing, most likely noticing the lipgloss on his lips but ultimately diverting his attention to the case instead.

“Alright everyone, we have a case involving three murdered individuals in Philadelphia. They were all found in alleys with their clothing removed,” Garcia said, her full lips pursed. Some pictures showed up on the screen, revealing their nude and beaten bodies, with several stab wounds littering two out of the three. She left out a rather important detail though in her introduction, and almost immediately, Rossi seemed to catch on.

“Whoa,” Emily offered quite lamely, her brows furrowing together.

“They were completely castrated…” JJ muttered, feeling uncomfortable and knowing her male colleagues had to feel worse.

“Is that…” he started, only for Morgan to intervene before he said something potentially insulting.

“Are they transgender?” Morgan asked instead, and Garcia tilted her head slightly, indication of a mixed answer.

“Local law enforcement is saying yes,” Hotch responded with a firm nod.

“Maybe even drag queens,” Reid spoke up, his chin perched in his hand as he overlooked the file with a clinical expression on his face. “Do we know for certain if they were transgender or is local police just assuming they are? Because that makeup is… quite adventurous,” he said honestly,

“At this point, I believe it is just speculation. We’ll find out for sure when we arrive. Wheels up in thirty,” Hotch concluded, standing up with file in hand and leaving the conference room to organize their flight. Everyone else lingered, and Rossi just had to ask the question that everyone seemed to be dreading.

“You know a lot about makeup, Reid?” He asked a bit standoffishly, looking up and down Reid as if sizing him up. Spencer blinked, suddenly growing incredibly aware of the light makeup on his own face. God, this was uncomfortable, and even though he was a grown man, he felt like he had just been caught by his father, digging into his mother’s makeup bag. Subconsciously, he licked his lips in an attempt to destroy the evidence of gloss.

“Um… Just basic stuff, I guess.” Christ, it was like coming out as gay all over again. I sort of like guys… Maybe just a little. He swallowed and looked towards Morgan who was glaring holes into an unassuming Rossi. But Dave just frowned and narrowed his eyes a bit. “Uh huh,” He hummed, looking over Reid once more before leaving the room after Hotch. The girls looked after him incredulously and Spencer felt exposed, certainly uncomfortable, and definitely awkward.

“If he says another word to you, just let me know,” Morgan said, squeezing his shoulder in a way that didn’t suggest anything more than a protective, brotherly relationship. Spencer smiled slightly at him, and the girls agreed with similar statements. But he couldn’t get too caught up in his own feelings. They had a killer to catch, and if getting his feelings hurt along the way meant putting him away, it was a worthy sacrifice.

Right?

“I’m SSA Morgan and this is Dr. Spencer Reid. We’re with agents Hotchner and Jareau.”

Even though Philadelphia was only three hours, they couldn’t afford to waste time. They had landed in Philadelphia after an hour jet ride and almost immediately split up, Rossi and Emily visiting the most recent crime scene while Morgan and Reid tackled the M.E. Hotch and JJ had already set up at the precinct and were busy in the conference room, but as Morgan and Reid arrived, they were instantly approached by a deputy who questioned them, and he looked over Reid incredulously, and it was enough to make the young doctor uncomfortable. He probably had trouble believing that scrawny Reid was actually an FBI agent. But the deputy just hummed and directed the m towards the conference room where they could see their colleagues at work. It seemed that Rossi and Emily had beaten them back to the precinct.

“M.E. was able to tell us that all of our victims were biologically male, which we already knew,” Morgan informed the other four agents, and Reid was quick to jump in.

“All of the victims were wearing makeup, as we already stated, as well as colored wigs. Now, what’s interesting about that is that they were all wearing wig caps with glue or tape applied as well, which is a common trick that drag queens use to keep their wigs on while performing,” he supplied knowingly, his hands locking together in front of his chest. He knew that feeling this nervous was probably a bit dramatic, but it was almost like a personal attack on him - especially since he was beginning to believe that these victims were in fact drag queens, and not transgender or crossdressing individuals. The universe sure had a sick mind, and Rossi’s constant staring wasn’t helping.

“We can confirm this with Garcia,” Hotch said, and quickly took out his phone to dial their beloved technical analyst.

“Sir, yes, sir!” Garcia’s bubbly voice sounded from the phone, but the mood was far too somber for any of them to even think of responding to her quirkiness.

“Garcia, can you look into our victims and see if they were involved in the gay community, specifically as drag queens? Look into local gay bars as well as any other significant venues.”

“Ah, drag queens and gay bars, two of my favorite things in one sentence,” she cooed while her fingers flew across the keys.

“You know, it’s also possible some of them were involved in non-profits geared towards LGBTQ people. We—I mean, sometimes drag queens will get involved as role models for the kids who get rejected by their friends and families,” Reid said, cursing himself for his little stumble. Again, Rossi looked at him hard, but Garcia was quick to respond.

“Alright, my queens, all three victims were regular performers at a local gay bar known as Syndicate. And our second victim, Collin Knicks, took several trips a month to volunteer at a nonprofit in the Big Apple focused on preventing LGBTQ suicides and helping at-risk individuals.”

“There’s our connection,” Emily said with a nod of her head. “So it’s a hate crime.”

“Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” the local detective, Jim Stewart, said, his arms crossed over his chest. He frowned, looking over one of the crime scene pictures. “It’s possible he was interested in them sexually and when he discovered they were actually men, he became enraged.”

“I’m willing to bet that it’s a hate crime,” Morgan said confidently, and Reid instantly nodded in agreement, standing up a bit straighter in front of the map he had been glancing over.

“As am I. Twenty point four percent of all hate crimes are focused on an individual’s sexual orientation, and out of those 20.4, 56.7% were homosexual males. I don’t think it’s coincidence that all of these men were drag queens, and besides, not all of them were the overly feminine drag queens that can be mistaken for biological females. For example, our first victim was in a style commonly called camp, and in the drag community, that means overdramatizing feminine aspects of beauty. A lot of camp drag queens draw their inspiration from typical clown getups, especially in their makeup, but they also perform with clown values like comedy and satire.”

That left a few baffled individuals, in particular, Hotch, Rossi, and Stewart. Damn, he knew it was foolish to spout out information like that, especially since it implied intimate knowledge of the drag community. And again, it wasn’t a secret, but the less people who knew, the better, and the last thing he needed was his two superiors knowing of his pastime activity. He knew they most likely wouldn’t do anything about it, but he would rather Hotch and Rossi not know that he flounced around in women’s clothing and makeup in his free time.

Someone cleared their throat in a hope to dispel the awkward air that took over the room, and Hotch eventually, thankfully, decided to speak up.

“Alright, Reid. If this is a hate crime, how do you think the unsub targeted them? Through the clubs?” He questioned. Reid instantly nodded his head, pointing at the one bar on the map where all of the victims frequented for performances.

“Has to be. Syndicate, the bar, is at the center of all of the dump sites. They were all left in different alleys no more than two miles away from the bar, so I think it would only make sense to assume that this is where he is picking up his victims,” Reid said, his intelligence hardly surprising the rest of his team, “And since he’s been there before, I’m betting that he’s either a regular or he blends in.”

“Perfect… So how are we going to find a single fag in a bar full of ‘em?” The detective spat out, and his hate was pretty clear. If Reid wasn’t sure, he’d think that the detective could be their unsub.

“Watch your mouth,” Derek hissed dangerously, and Hotch was quick to cast him a sharp glare insinuating that he would get this under control, and if Reid knew Hotch well enough, he knew he would follow through with that.

“Do not refer to these victims as such slurs. Regardless of their sexual orientation or preferred gender identity, they were human and deserve respect,” He said both respectfully yet sternly, and the detective just shook his head with a huff.

“I just don’t understand what the world’s coming to. But fine, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. They were human.” Well, that problem was solved, for now at least. Reid feared that the detective’s clear disdain for these people - people like him - would rise to the surface again, but they would deal with that issue when it presented itself. They came to do their job, and regardless of how hateful some people could be, they couldn’t let that interfere.

Speculation wasn’t getting them anywhere, but over time, they were able to develop a profile, or at least a partial one; The unsub was a white male in his mid twenties to early thirties with homophobic ideologies that could possibly stem from religious beliefs. It was possible he was feeling homosexual tendencies and in an effort to dispel them, he killed the objects of his desire. Due to his ability to go to the same club on three different occasions without incident meant he blended into the crowd and was potentially a regular at the club. With nothing more to go off of, JJ and Emily seemed to be paying extra special attention to Spencer, and it was hard to hide his discomfort and obvious surprise when they dragged him out of the conference room to have a “talk” as they both put it. But the idea they had in mind was something he would never consider, not even for a millisecond, and to even think of such a situation made his skin crawl.

“Not even for a second,” he dismissed easily, pouring sugar into his coffee which he was beginning to suspect was actually really mud.

“Spence, please? This could be our only chance of catching the unsub,” JJ tried, looking both exasperated and equally as desperate as Prentiss. He frowned and shook his head, reaching a hand up to brush his messy curls away from his face with fingers he now realized were shaking just slightly.

“Guys, please… I can’t. Do you realize the impact that could have on my career? My reputation,” he said, his voice raising just slightly in pitch out of frustration.

“Spence…”

“I said no,” he said more firmly with a sharp frown set on his lips. It was too much of a risk for him to take. If word got around at the Bureau that the Dr. Spencer Reid was actually a drag queen, he would be devastated and ruined. He knew they couldn’t legally fire him over it, but the Bureau wasn’t the most liberal place in the world, so they would most likely search for an excuse to get rid of him. And in all honesty, every single member of his team had done something that would deem firing - and he was not exception to that.

The day continued on as was expected, and when evening came around and they had no leads, Hotch gave instructions for them to retire to the hotel. They all stopped at a local Thai restaurant for dinner though, and despite Rossi’s occasional hard glances, he was feeling a little less exposed than he had been before. When they finally made it to the hotel, it was simply common knowledge that he and Derek would be rooming together. Nobody really knew for certain that they were in a relationship, and although speculation would continue to circle the unlikely duo, they would neither confirm nor deny it. So it was simple to make the assumption that Reid and Morgan would share a room, but not as simple to assume they would be sharing the same bed.

“JJ and Emily made the suggestion that I go undercover in drag,” he said softly, wrapped in his lover’s warm embrace with nothing more than a pair of boxers on. He needed this… A sense of relaxation and a stress free environment where he could just wind down for a little, at least until the morning when he and Derek would both have to snap back into work-mode.

“Not such a bad idea, actually,” Derek said thoughtfully, and Spencer only proceeded to smack his muscular bicep. Derek only chuckled in respond, his arms squeezing slightly around his lithe lover in a form of comfort and reassurance. “But I won’t pressure you. We can catch the unsub without that, but I won’t say it wouldn’t be a helpful way to get him on our radar.”

“Derek… You know I can’t,” he murmured with a frown in place. Derek leaned in close and kissed his pouting lips, and somehow that was enough for Spencer to believe that anything was a good idea, at least until he sobered up from the sweet moment. “You know what that would do to me… I can’t.”

“And like I said, I’m not going to pressure you. But I will ask that you think about it, for the sake of our victims and their families.” Derek was obviously pressuring him, just not in a direct manner like the girls had done. At least Penelope wasn’t in on their little idea…

“Don’t try and guilt-trip me,” Spencer lectured weakly, pushing away from Derek’s embrace and rolling over, his back to the other man. He didn’t know what he was going to do. It would definitely help them, but was it worth it to put his own self at risk? It was in his job description, to put his life on the line to save others. But he was beginning to question the flexibility of those rules. Morgan followed him as he turned away, curling behind him and holding him close, pressing a kiss to the top of his shoulder.

“I’m not. I’ll respect whatever decision you make,” Morgan mumbled into his skin. Spencer sighed, hugging a spare pillow close while his lover’s hands laid over his stomach, feeling the concavity of his thin frame.

“Rossi’s been looking at me weirdly all day, and I don’t think my knowledge of makeup and drag queens and my ramblings of gay hate crimes really helped,” he admitted, and Derek just chuckled, the light stubble on his chin scruffy against his shoulder.

“Rossi is a conservative middle aged man with a Catholic-Italian upbringing. Are you surprised?” He asked and Reid just hummed a sound of amusement.

“You’re right… Doesn’t make me feel any better though. He seems both intrigued and suspicious, and almost disgusted in a way. I don’t know if he really feels that way or if he’s just surprised.”

“It’s probably a mixture of both,” Derek said honestly, his hand now moving up and down Spencer’s bare torso. “But you shouldn’t worry about it… I know you look up to him, but if he really does feel that way towards gay men, I don’t think you should torture yourself like that. It’ll only hurt in the end.”

“You’re right… Maybe I’m just overthinking it too,” he murmured, and Derek tilted his head slightly to nip at the shell of his ear, a sharp gasp responding to his ministrations.

“Want me to help you stop thinking for a bit?” Derek whispered, his breath hot against his neck. And Reid could only shiver in response, nodding his head immediately. Those hands traced along the expanse of his torso, thick fingers brushing over his sensitive nipples and over the contours of his ribcage. He could feel himself getting aroused, his boxers getting tighter around his growing erection.

“Oh, god…” Spencer breathed as Derek’s hand dipped down to squeeze the bulge through his boxers, his thighs quivering out of pure instinct. Derek always had the ability to make him shake, and even light touches could send him over the edge. But not tonight - he wanted this to drag out for as long as possible, so slow was good. His partner kissed his shoulder and neck, his tongue dragging a line from the base of his neck and up the length of his jugular to the underside of his jaw.

“You’re so pretty, Spence…” he murmured, his hand dancing across the fabric of his Dr. Who boxers, the TARDIS overlapping prints of itself in a spiral of blues. He stifled a groan as Derek’s hand finally delved beneath the waistband, grasping his cock at the base and squeezing before moving upwards. And just to be a tease, the bastard completely avoided the tip.

“Derek, please,” Reid whined, his legs kicking out childishly. Derek chuckled, kissing his jaw and on the next upward stroke, his thumb slid over his head, teasing the slit delicately before he went back to just fondling him. Spencer let his head tilt back and turn, his own lips seeking Morgan’s. Derek was quick to fulfill that wish, their lips meeting in a sloppy but still passionate kiss. Derek purposely set up a quickened pace of stroking then, and Spencer moaned into the kiss.

“Don’t make me gag you, Pretty Boy. You know how much I love those lips,” Derek chastised gently, his free hand connected to the arm underneath of Spencer slid across his chest, teasing his nipples. “By the way, I really like the lipgloss today… Couldn’t stop thinking about your mouth wrapped around my cock.”

Spencer choked on a moan, his hips jerking forward. Derek sure had a way with words.

“You don’t realize how gorgeous you are sometimes… You’re absolutely stunning, Spencer.”

“Derek,” he moaned softly, one of his hands raising to muffle the noises passing his lips. “‘M close…”

“Come for me, baby boy…” Derek encouraged, kissing up his neck and suckling on the skin near the junction of his neck and shoulder, but not hard enough to leave a mark. Spencer did just moments later, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, as he released in Derek’s palm, legs spasming and toes curling. He panted heavily, and in the afterglow, he hardly noticed Derek leaning away to wipe his hand on a tissue from the bedside table. He gathered Spencer in his arms and held him close, nuzzling his neck.

“You’re too good to me,” Spencer murmured softly, beginning to move to face him. “Your turn?” He asked, looking a bit confused when Derek shook his head.

“No, baby, that was all for you. Just relax, okay? We both need it,” he said, turning Spencer’s head to kiss him just one more time before they got comfortable in their spooning position. It was one of Spencer’s favorite positions to sleep in, mainly because it made him feel safe and warm. And god, was Derek good at it.

“Alright… Goodnight, Derek,” he said softly, “I love you.”

“I love you too, pretty boy,” he responded, “Get some sleep.”

The next day came, and JJ and Emily were relentless, as Spencer had expected them to be. He was beginning to get a bit frustrated with them, but that night when another victim turned up, a confirmed drag queen still in her performance outfit, he began to feel inclined to help in any way he could. He talked to Morgan in private throughout the day, and as he had previously stated, he would support Reid no matter what he chose to do.

God, this was so difficult. The pain these victims must have felt; the fear, the horror, the fact that they were alone… He had been through experiences where such emotions presented themselves in his own life, with Hankel, the bullying he suffered throughout high school, yet none of it could even compare to having his life snuffed out simply for being himself. That was enough for him to finally cave and let them know he was willing to do it - for the victims. They deserved that, in the very least.

“Hey Hotch, we were thinking, what if we sent someone in undercover?” Prentiss started, skirting around and avoiding targeting Reid immediately. It would probably be best to mention the idea delicately, since Hotch and Rossi had no idea of his pastime activities. They were both bound to be surprised and maybe even a little offset, but Spencer was willing to suffer a bit if that meant getting justice for the victims and their families.

“Who did you have in mind? Neither you or JJ could do it, since our unsub is targeting gay men dressed as women,” he said, looking a bit confused and glancing back and forth between the two women before his eyes fell on the lithe man partially behind him who raised his hand like he were swearing his oath in court.

“M-Me, sir, I’m offering,” Reid said, and oh, how comical Hotch’s face would have been in any other situation. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head, his lips parting just slightly in shock and his overall demeanor simply befalling his previous state of serious to shock. Rossi looked on with a mirrored expression, but his was less drastic, most likely because, and Reid assumed, that he had his suspicions already. “It’s… something I do in my free time anyway. Drag, I mean.”

Hotch cleared his throat quite awkwardly, proving to be even more awkward than Dr. Spencer Reid himself, and Rossi simply nodded mutely. Stewart looked shocked, and the deputy who had regarded Reid oddly before glanced back and forth between the doctor and the detective. “W-Well… I’m certainly shocked,” he admitted, shaking his head and frowning at the doctor, clearly having some suppressed judgement for the younger man.

“At this point, it wouldn’t hurt,” Morgan tried to offer, and Hotch nodded slowly as if contemplating this idea. He looked to Reid, still recovering from the shock but regarding him with a serious expression. “Could you do it tonight?”

“Absolutely,” Reid said with a firm nod, “I don’t have any of my… equipment, but a quick trip to a drugstore can solve that. I can just fix my real hair, since it’s long enough,” he said.

“No, call Garcia immediately. We need this to be as smooth and genuine as possible if we want to catch the unsub,” Hotch instructed. He supposed it would be easier with his own supplies, and definitely more convincing since drugstore makeup didn’t always cut it in drag. He stepped out of the conference to let his revelation settle with his two unknowing team members and the local detective and deputy. He dialed Garcia.

“Hi, baby boy, what do you need?” Garcia asked, her bubbly voice as happy and unassuming as usual. He sighed and felt his cheeks flushing pink already.

“H-Hi, Garcia. Is there anyway you can go to my apartment and, um, pick up my… supplies? I need them,” he said, hoping she understood what he meant since the idea of asking for makeup in the middle of a police precinct was not at all flattering. She giggled through the speaker.

“You mean your makeup? Are they sending you under?” She asked him curiously, another giggle following.

“Um… Yeah, yeah they are. I mean, I agreed to it, but I don’t really want to. Look, I just need this to be as easy as possible. Could you bring them? Please?” He asked desperately, and she responded in the affirmative. He lowered his voice to a near whisper for his next request, looking around frantically. “Also grab my curly brown wig. A dress will probably be best and a pair of heels, but not too tall. Okay?”

“Gotcha, Bria. I’ll be there in a few hours,” she promised him before they both said their goodbyes and hung up. Reid sighed and dragged a hand down his face, feeling a rise in his stubble and knowing he would need to shave before tonight. He would get there eventually, but he had to face his team again. He entered into the conference room and instantly, he felt how thick the tension was. He shivered, knowing that he had probably caused it and frowning at the looks on Rossi’s and the detective’s faces. The deputy looked a bit conflicted, and overall, emotions were pretty ranged among the group. Hotch maintained that serious expression, but it looked somewhat angered. JJ and Emily looked angry too, but with more distress than pure rage.

But Derek Morgan? Now that was rage.

He looked murderous, his hands balled into fists at his side, clenched so tightly his hands were shaking just slightly. His brows were furrowed, mouth set in a heavy frown. His dark eyes were narrowed into dangerous slits, and the tension in his jaw was scary.

“What’s going on, guys?” Reid asked meekly upon his entrance, and Derek instantly looked at him with a slightly softened expression before looking back to the detective and Rossi.

“Nothing. We’re leaving, to scout the bar before we send you in tonight,” he said, and Hotch was quick to join them in their departure. Reid cast a glance back towards the conference room as they fled from the precinct, and he wondered he would have the power to fix this, particularly with Rossi, when this case was done and over with. He sure hoped so, because he didn’t think he could work with a man who acknowledged him with nothing but disgust in his eyes.

By the time they were finished with the scouting, Garcia called Morgan and let him know that she was about an hour out. Reid immediately asked to be taken to the hotel so he could get ready, and fortunately, Hotch didn’t question this request. He was actually very good at not mentioning the whole thing, most likely because Hotch didn’t do well with his team members’ personal lives, especially not with confidential information like Reid had so willingly shared with him and Rossi for the sake of the case. Reid only hoped that in the end, it would bump him up a bit on Hotch’s respect totem pole to counteract against the criticism and negativity he was sure to receive in the aftermath.

“Do you need help with anything?” Morgan asked when they were in the hotel room together, and instantly, Reid shook his head and smiled, beginning to unbutton his shirt.

“I’ll be fine. Just make sure that Garcia is… discrete when bringing my stuff in. I’d rather the city of Philadelphia not know that an FBI agent is about to go undercover as a drag queen,” he said softly, and Morgan smiled softly, approaching the slightly frazzled doctor.

“I will…” he said, raising a hand and rubbing it along Spencer’s now-bare bicep. Morgan’s touch sent electricity sparking along his skin, and he shivered slightly, a frown marring his features.

“Hey…” Derek started, choosing his words carefully to avoid upsetting Reid, who was quite sensitive when it came to the approval of others. He had been searching for it all his life, so of course he was sensitive. "Rossi and Stewart are just bigots. They’ll see, after we catch the unsub how valuable your input was. And if they threaten you in anyway, you can see to it that I’ll take care of it.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Reid dismissed as he shrugged the shirt off completely, halted in his undressing with the conversation at hand.

“Yeah, I do. Because you’re my man, and it’s my responsibility to keep you safe,” he said tenderly, and Reid just smiled and shook his head, turning away from Morgan and heading towards the bathroom. He was about to close the door only for Derek to block it with his foot, peaking in at his lover. “I love you, Spencer.”

“I love you,” Spencer said in response, leaning into the doorway and pressing their lips together before pulling back and meeting his eyes. “Now get out so I can get ready.”

Morgan didn’t question and immediately, Spencer set to work. He let the shower water warm up while he shaved his face, skillfully avoiding leaving any nicks or razor burn in his wake, and that was because he had done this a thousand times for this very reason. He rinsed his face off, reveling in his boyish appearance for a few seconds before undressing entirely and hopping under the steady stream of water. He washed himself up as usual but the majority of time was spent shaving his legs and underarms. It had been a couple weeks since his last performance so quite a bit had grown in that small time frame (primarily since he was a man, of course). Fortunately, he didn’t have chest hair or incredibly dark arm hair, so he never had to worry about that.

By the time he was finished, he could hear Garcia’s voice through the bathroom door. Wrapping himself in a provided bathrobe, he emerged and saw Morgan, Garcia, JJ, and Emily all sitting around the room, talking amongst themselves mainly. When Derek noticed him though, he smiled that show-stopping grin and approached the young doctor, slinging an arm around his shoulders and leaning in close, too close to be platonic, and instantly Reid tensed at the feel of his lover’s lips against his cheek. “Secret’s out, baby boy,” he hummed in his ear, and instantly his cheeks flushed and he looked down in embarrassment. The girls all squealed though, clapping their hands excitedly as if watching a rom-com.

“Congrats, guys,” Emily said happily.

“I knew it, I just knew it,” Garcia hissed at them. “You didn’t even have to tell me.”

“You guys aren’t as subtle as you think, that’s for sure,” JJ added in humorously.

“What about… Hotch and Rossi?” Reid dared to ask, and JJ immediately shook her head.

“They don’t know.”

“Figured we’d leave the hardest for last,” Derek said softly, kissing his lover’s cheek. A chorus of ‘aw’s’ met the action and Spencer playfully shoved Morgan away, his cheeks pink but a smile lingering on his lips. He tightened the robe around himself, sitting down on the bed beside Garcia. JJ and Emily took up the other bed, and Derek stood at the foot of both. He was worried about the repercussions of this little undercover mission, and as crucial as it was bound to be, he was still afraid of what could come from it. Because no matter how successful a person was, if they made one wrong move, their entire career could crumble. Reid didn’t want to fall into that category.

This wasn’t about to get any easier though. He had to do this. Spencer had work to do, and with a firm nod of his head and a newfound look of determination on his face, he began to gather his makeup.

He would become Bria soon enough, all it took was a lot of makeup and a little added confidence.

“Bria’s here, babies,” Reid’s voice sang out as he erupted from the bathroom in a flurry of long brown curls and strawberry body spray. He spun around in three inch heels, black in color with a strap around the ankle. The edges were scalloped over the closed toes and the heel of his foot. He wore a black body con dress with mesh sleeves and mesh over the chest, dipping down in between his breastbone. But since he obviously didn’t have breasts, he put his silicone breasts in place in the dress to further blur the truth of his masculinity. In truth, it wasn’t apparent that he was actually a drag queen at first, because in truth, he looked like a woman ready to hit the town. Damn, he felt like he could conquer the world like this.

“Yes, baby!” Garcia cheered, the other girls looking just as excited. Derek just looked slightly baffled yet enamored, as he always did when Spencer dressed in drag. But Reid had a job to do, and he couldn’t let anything distract him. Emily approached him and fixed a microphone to the front of his dress, the black apparatus blending in with the dress (which was partially why he asked for a black dress). As well as that, he wore a little earpiece as well, and fortunately his wig was able to cover that without issue. JJ and Emily were dressed up in typical club outfits too, and Morgan was dressed a bit nicer in a maroon button down and black slacks which really accentuated his muscular thighs… Reid looked away almost as soon as he noticed his eyes lingering, clearing his throat a bit.

“You guys are going in too?” He asked them, the three of them nodding simultaneously.

“Just in case anything goes wrong,” Emily said in her businesslike voice, all of them knowing that, despite the somewhat ridiculousness of the situation, this was a serious mission at hand, and lives could be at stake.

“I can’t wait to see Rossi’s face,” JJ admitted sheepishly, and Garcia giggled beside her as they all flooded out of Derek and Spencer’s hotel room to head to the bar together. But before they left the hotel, Derek pulled Spencer aside and grasped his biceps in his hands, scanning his lover’s face worriedly.

“If anything goes wrong, just say my name, pretty boy, okay?” Morgan said, and Spencer swallowed nervously before bobbing his head instantly.

“I will.”

Rossi and Hotch were already there by the time the group arrived, set up in a van outside for reconnaissance. With Garcia’s help, they had access to the cameras located in and outside of the bar, and with four of them on the inside, there would be no blindspots. When they arrived, Garcia departed from their group to slip into the van, and like she never left, the group of four sauntered into the bar in increments like they belonged.

All of their victims had been alone or had just performed at Syndicate, so they all had themselves placed strategically around the bar with all eyes on Reid as he stood alone at the bar, nursing a drink which appeared to be a daiquiri, but was in fact a virgin one. He still needed to fit in, but he couldn’t let alcohol distort his senses. He needed to be alert and focused, else they risked losing the unsub or a life - or both.

After about twenty minutes of standing alone at the bar, occasionally faking texting on his phone, a man began to approach Reid, albeit slowly, and through his earpiece, he could hear Hotch’s voice filter through to the rest of his team, “Heads up, someone’s taking an interest in Reid.”

The man in question was tall, about the same height as Spencer in heels, and he was broad shouldered. He wasn’t muscular per se, just bigger in size but not overweight by any means. He sidled up to Spencer’s side, laying his hand over top of his on the bar top and smirking at him. “Hey, baby. What’s a pretty little thing like you doing all by yourself here?” He asked.

Now, in any other situation, a single Reid would have been flattered, because in truth, nothing about this man screamed unsub. He was charming, not overbearing in anyway, and frankly, his cologne smelled nice. Spencer’s lashes fluttered in mock surprise, his pretty pink lips turning up into a seductive smile. “Nothin’… Looking for a man like you to whisk me away for the night,” Bria purred in response, and he swore he heard the sound of someone choking on a drink in his ear.

“I think I might be able to help you with that. But first, what’s your name, princess?” The man asked. Bria giggled, walking her fingers up the man’s forearm and meeting his eyes.

“You can call me anything you want,” she whispered, “But Bria will do.”

“Bria… A beautiful name for a beautiful woman. I’m Stephen.”

“Well, Stephen… What do you say we get out of here?” Bria asked softly, her hand now resting on the back of his neck. Internally, Spencer wanted to shiver and crawl out of his skin, but he kept telling himself he had to do this. He wasn’t entirely sure if this was the unsub just yet, but something deep in his gut was telling him to run, and Spencer trusted his fight or flight response more than anything. But keeping up the act, he sauntered away from the bar and led Stephen into the ally behind the bar.

Almost instantly, he was slammed into the brick wall, a solid oomph sounding upon his impact. Before he had a chance to catch his breath, he was thrown down to the ground and kick after kick was delivered to his torso and face. He knew that his team was most likely unable to decipher what exactly was going on, so in a panic, he cried out, “Derek!”

It take long for them to react to that, fortunately, because the back door of the bar swung open and his colleagues emerged from within the bar, guns drawn. At the opening of the dead end alley, Hotch and Rossi stood with their guns out as well. Reid, blood dripping from his nose, crawled away from the seething unsub and in Derek’s direction. Morgan immediately holstered his gun and approached Reid, helping him to his feet. Hotch apprehended Stephen, forcing his hands behind his back and cuffing him while reading his rights. Spencer looked to Derek with wide eyes, a smile growing on his lips as the realization caught up with him, and without him alone, they risked the lives of more people. He threw his arms around Derek’s neck and laughed his joy into his neck.

On the flight home, now dressed in his usual style, Spencer wandered down the aisle with a mug of coffee in hand and a tissue stuffed up in his bleeding nose. He hadn’t broken it, fortunately, he had just been kicked hard enough that it felt like he had. He joined the group at the table, Derek at his side and the Emily and JJ across. Hotch and Rossi were near the back of the jet, talking quietly amongst themselves while Hotch did paperwork as he usually did.

“Props to Dr. Reid for catching the unsub with some feminine mystique,” Emily said with a cute bow in Spencer’s direction. The doctor just smiled, leaning into Derek just slightly and exhaling a soft sigh of contentment.

“I’m just happy I was able to help, even if it was a… unique situation,” he said, happy that he had been able to catch a monster and take away his ability to hurt anybody else. Derek chuckled and held his hand under the table, squeezing slightly. He felt accomplished. After years of hiding himself and being ashamed of who he was in his professional life, he felt like he had defeated his own demons. He raised his eyes up and connected gazes with Rossi for a millisecond before the older man looked away.

It looked like he still had one demon to face.

<-Part 7: Origin | Part 9: Demons->

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #derek morgan #moreid #moreid smut #smut #drag queen Spencer Reid #a disaster if I ever wrote one

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neurodiverse-clones · 4 years

Note

Are you still taking prompts for autistic Echo? If not, cool, no worries and please ignore the rest of this message. If so, I was thinking about if Echo starts to have an overload at a pretty inconvenient time (like in the middle of a campaign) and everyone is trying to help but it’s actually Anakin who ends up helping by sharing a coping method that helps him (and everybody is like *bluescreen* “you too?”).

OH MY GOODNESS YES I CAN ABSOLUTELY DO THIS. Okay I have been mulling this over ever since I got this ask, and I don’t know if this is exactly what you wanted, but as I may have mentioned I am 100% projecting onto Echo and that’s where this comes from. Thank you so much for the ask!

It’s ironic that his name echoes in his ears, he thinks, and he looks up into the visor of—someone, a brother, but his vision is tunneling and he can’t quite figure out who.

“Echo, are you with me?” The sound of it rings, but it gives him something to focus on besides the hole in his blacks or the smell of burning and ozone or the sound of blasterfire—ah, fierfek, they’re taking precious time and power away from the battle—

He slips again, and wonders somewhere simultaneously vague and central inside his head why he didn’t just bring it up when things started getting bad again.

He focuses on the visor in his face and tries to block out the sound, at least, he can do that if he just… if he could just focus—

“Eyayah,” a voice snaps, and it’s sharp and safe and Echo takes in a breath he didn’t realize he needed, filling his lungs almost until they ache, because nothing else matters, that’s Fives, calling to him.

“Eyayah,” Fives says again, “Ey’ika, you don’t have to do anything, just stay down here and as soon as this is over we’ll get you out.”

Echo turns the words over in his mind, willing them to make sense, except when they do he almost croaks out a negative, because his overload that he let get bad is not worth moving him before the injured vode—but then, it’s not like he’s in charge.

:::

In overload, time is less linear than it is when he’s okay. It twists and turns on itself, and hours are minutes and minutes are days and weeks are hours and nothing makes sense.

So when the battle ends, petering to a stop, and the only sounds are the yells of brothers taking out stragglers or helping the injured, and it doesn’t feel long enough, Echo can’t find it in him to be surprised.

His squad descends on him in an instant, trying all the various techniques they’ve learned. Fives is in front of him, helmet tucked under an arm, smiling weakly into Echo’s face. Lines has one of Echo’s gloves hands gently in his, and is holding it to his chest and breathing dramatically for his brother to follow and Echo doesn’t want to pull away but he doesn’t want to be touched, either, everything still hurts and itches and burns and doesn’t all at once. Ink is next to him, one leg straight, the other bent up with an arm sling across it, and is asking—something, but the shouting in the background mingles with it and he can’t parse out the gentle speaking from the yelling.

He heaves in a great breath and Fives shoos the rest of the squad away. They only back up about a meter, though, probably trying to cover their brother, because if someone sees—well.

Echo didn’t survive having autism on Kamino to die on that same Force-forsaken planet because autism on the battlefield is a little less convenient.

(And really, most of the time it helps to see the world a little differently. Just… not always. Not right now.)

Lines clears his throat, and the squad scrambles closer to Echo again—a predetermined signal for approaching superior officer—but Jedi aren’t stupid, unfortunately.

“How are things, men?” Skywalker asks, and even Echo can feel how loaded the question is.

“Swell, General,” Pink replies, and someone else groans, “Sergeant.” Pink was always bad at lying. His tell is that he changes his speech patterns; it’s obvious, every time.

“Uh-huh,” Skywalker intones, disbelieving. “Is your brother over there injured? He’s been down for a few hours.”

Of course it was a few hours.

The squad exchanges awkward glances.

“Right,” Skywalker says. He goes to step around the squad, but they form up defensively in front of Echo and Fives. His eyebrows go up, so he stands on his toes to try to peer over the heads of the squad. “Is that… Echo?” he asks.

Fives’s breath catches.

“Panic attack?” With a look, he gets through the squad and goes to sit beside Echo.

Echo manages to force out a, “No, sir,” but he would much rather simply shake his head.

“Sensory overload?” Skywalker tries again.

Echo doesn’t know what to do or what to say, but he can’t lie to an officer, much less a Jedi, so he just nods.

“I was beginning to think I was the only one who got that,” Skywalker says with a hefty sigh that has Echo confused.

“You get sensory overload,” Echo says, an incredulous statement as much as a question.

“Yeah, all the time. Well,” Skywalker corrects himself, “not all the time. I like to think I’ve learned how to take care of myself and keep it at bay.”

“And… how do you do that?” Echo asks.

“It depends on the issue. Sometimes I can leave the situation. Sometimes—have you heard of stimming?” At Echo’s nod, he continues, “Sometimes I fidget or stim. Sometimes I just put on my earmuffs. They’re noise reducing, like your helmets.” He gives Echo a smile and doesn't seem fazed when Echo avoids his gaze. “And I meditate, but not with the Force.”

“I’ve never meditated before,” Echo admits.

“I’ll help you some time,” Skywalker offers, and then he’s off.

The squad gives each other baffled, grateful looks, and Echo finds that he feels a little better.

#sensory overload #descriptions of sensory overload #autistic echo #echo #clone trooper echo #arc trooper echo #anakin skywalker #fives #arc trooper fives #clone trooper fives #prompted #Star Wars #the clone wars #Star Wars fic #clone wars fic #clone wars #swtcw

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angelofthequeers · 4 years

Text

Not a Good Look: Chapter 7

@thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @lady-charinette @elmokingkong tagged as requested :)

Chapter 6 | AO3 link

Disclaimer: I don’t own ML.

Thanks to everyone who’s enjoyed this fic! It was just a little something I had to get out because of this whole quarantine crap…and then I misplaced my brain cell and picked my presentation topics with the same due week as my essays, so this was a welcome break from four assessments at once.

Because I got a few queries about Gabriel hearing the conversation after he was Venomed and realising that Adrien is Chat: considering that the driver in 'Queen Wasp' was delirious and didn't know what the heck was going on, I see Venom as freezing all the senses and basically making you black out. So no, he doesn't have a clue what happened after he was Venomed.

Also, you'll notice that I don't actually mention Emilie at all. That's because the investigation's still ongoing and they'd have to know to look behind the painting, let alone the combination to it, and they won't have that without Gabriel telling them or without some good tech if they did suspect it in the first place. Unlike in 'Hold Me', it's only been a few days since the takedown, not a few weeks, and Adrien doesn't have the knowledge about Emilie and the secret lair here that he did in 'Hold Me' when Gabriel physically showed him, so he can't go and tell any of the authorities. Just figured I'd throw that in before people start asking XD

“I can’t believe it!” Alya throws her hands up and almost steps onto the road in front of a speeding car, which honks furiously at her as it passes. “All that evidence against Lila and you’re not letting me air it?”

“Hawkmoth is fair game,” Marinette says. “And they’ll probably use the footage in court to prove that he was grooming an underage girl. But if you air that footage, you’re giving her a free ticket out. She’ll have solid proof that she was being manipulated by Mr Agreste. And honestly…Adrien’s right. Sure, we can expose her over the internet, but what then? It follows her everywhere she goes. She’s got no chance of ever growing past this evil, self-absorbed phase that she’s in because it’ll haunt her for the rest of her life.”

“That’s surprisingly mature for someone whose life was almost ruined by said phase,” Alya mutters.

“You think I’m happy about this?” Marinette says. “I want nothing more than to throw all her lies in her face and cackle like a witch about it. But I don’t want to sink to that kind of person. Being her for five minutes, even though it was an illusion…it made me pity her. She’ll do anything for her fifteen minutes of fame, even if she has to make deals with creepy old men who try to intimidate her, and she’ll squash anyone who gets in her way. And honestly? That’s just sad. I’m the one with true friends. I’m the one who’ll still be standing when the dust settles. Not her. I told her I had faith in my friends and look where we ended up.”

Alya reaches over and rests the back of her hand on Marinette’s forehead. “Are you sure we got the Butterfly and Peacock on Wednesday night?” she says. “You sure there’s not an akuma that’s making you say this stuff? Or that you’re not a sentimonster?”

“Oh, ha, ha,” Marinette says, rolling her eyes. “And besides, the police may or may not have told Ladybug that they were arresting Lila yesterday for colluding with a terrorist, since there’s enough doubt in the footage of me as her to at least claim that she had a clue that he was Hawkmoth. And even though she’ll most likely wriggle her way out of it because that proof’s not a hundred percent solid, at least she won’t be playing everyone like a puppet anymore. There’ll be just enough doubt that they’ll start to question her and then her lies will just…fall. And it’ll kill her more to have no attention than to even have bad attention.”

Alya blinks at her. “No, seriously, who are you and what have you done with Marinette? I know there’s no way you’d come up with that all by yourself.”

“Okay, fine!” Marinette crosses her arms. “Tikki talked me down from going ballistic last night, and Adrien, Kagami, and I had a good talk about what to do about her.”

“I knew it!” Alya says, jabbing Marinette in the chest. “That’s way more complex than your single brain cell can handle!”

“Excuse me?” Marinette splutters. “How dare you? I’m the saviour of Paris! You have my posters in your room!”

“And I’m also your best friend, so I’m allowed to ruthlessly roast you,” Alya says smugly. “Too bad, so sad.”

Sure enough, as Marinette had predicted, Lila’s at school today and is holding court in the classroom, strategically sobbing into her hands when Marinette and Alya enter the room.

“Oh, Marinette! Alya! I’m so glad you’re here!” Lila cries. “Marinette, I’m so sorry for everything I’ve done to you! I never wanted to hurt you but, well, Mr Agreste took advantage of my lying disorder and our natural rivalry and he – he –” She sniffles and blows her nose, and Marinette resists the incredibly strong urge to roll her eyes at the theatrics. “He manipulated me! He promised me modelling contracts and favours and that I could spend time with Adrien, since I had a crush on him, and – and oh my gosh, I feel so dirty!”

“It’s okay, Lila,” Rose says soothingly, patting her on the back. “He took advantage of you. It’s nothing to be ashamed of!”

“I always knew that Mr Agreste was a dirty old man,” Alix growls. “On top of being a shitty father and a supervillain!”

“I mean, we were all used by him as akumas,” Chloé scoffs, delicately touching up her mascara in her compact mirror. “You’re nothing special, Rossi. And Adrikins is staying at my hotel now, so which of us ended up winning, hmm?”

“Well, we might never be friends, but I forgive you for everything you’ve done,” Marinette says as everyone glares at Chloé. Kind of rich of Chloé to say that, considering what she’d done as Miracle Queen, but no one actually remembers that, so…oh well. “And I’m…sorry for the way I treated you. I should have believed you about your disabilities even if you didn’t have that lying disorder.”

As much as it pains her to do so, this apology is necessary. As Tikki and Adrien had pointed out, their classmates had in fact been in the right to believe Lila about her disabilities instead of forcing her to prove every little thing, and Marinette had wilted when Tikki had asked her to remember how she’s felt whenever anyone’s doubted her claim of being autistic because she “seems normal enough” and demanded that she provide evidence. But Marinette’s not apologising for or excusing Lila’s evil manipulations and every other lie of hers, especially the ones that got her expelled, and Tikki and Adrien had thankfully taken her side on that point.

“Oh, of course I forgive you!” Lila says dramatically. “And I agree! Even if we never end up being friends, I’d much rather be on friendly terms than unfriendly!”

“So, what happens now?” Sabrina says. “My father told me that you were arrested yesterday!”

Lila’s face falls. “Oh, yes, they had to arrest me for colluding with a terrorist, but it’s all a formality and I’m sure to be let off in the trial! Especially since their only evidence is some footage of me talking to Mr Agreste that’s clearly doctored, since I’ve got an airtight alibi, and Alya’s interview of me that she had to get as more evidence against him! Ladybug had to summon an illusion of me to trick Mr Agreste into confessing, of course, and I was so scared that he would take it out on me if our plan failed, but I’m fully prepared to give media statements, even if Ladybug can’t confirm or deny that we were working together for my safety…”

Marinette’s eye twitches as Lila spins some tale about the grand plan that she’d been part of to take down Gabriel Agreste. But, to her surprise, their classmates aren’t falling over themselves to ooh and ahh at her story. They’re not calling her out, of course, but they’re just…losing interest the longer she talks about herself. Huh. That’s never happened before.

“What’s going on?” Marinette turns to whisper to Ivan. “You don’t believe her?”

Ivan shrugs. “She’s got a lying disorder. She can’t help it. Not gonna be mean for something she can’t help but…yeah, I don’t believe Ladybug would use a civilian like that.”

“I pity her, honestly,” Nathaniel pipes up from behind Ivan. “But I’m also kind of wondering what else she’s lied about, especially if Mr Agreste made her. Even if she wasn’t doing it to screw us over…she was still lying to us.”

Marinette could sing to the heavens. Finally, someone’s using their brain! It might not be immediate, but Lila’s downfall is just around the corner, and honestly? Marinette had been telling the truth earlier; all she can feel right now is pity for when Lila’s eventually left alone, surrounded by nothing but her lies as her empire crumbles around her. And honestly, maybe fading into obscurity like that is a worse punishment for Lila than being targeted and called out, since that would still be giving her the attention that she craves. But this? This is nothing.

Although Marinette keeps an absent eye on the door for Adrien’s entrance, she’s not expecting to see him, since she already knows that he’s not coming to school today as well. Not that she can blame him, really, after the whole “Hawkmoth exposed” thing that Alya had posted on the Ladyblog that’s generated so much traffic that poor Alya can’t even check up on it since it keeps crashing (much to her gleeful annoyance). Marinette doesn’t think that anyone will accuse him of being in league with Hawkmoth but, well, it’s inevitable that there’ll be some dicks who pull the whole “like father, like son” crap, so it makes sense that he wouldn’t want to expose himself to that.

However, that doesn’t stop her from making a beeline for Le Grand Paris after school, where Adrien and his bodyguard are staying temporarily since the mansion’s now considered a crime scene. It’s so…weird. Hawkmoth and Mayura have been taken down and Adrien’s life has been utterly turned on its head and shaken some more, yet the sun still casts its weak rays down on Marinette’s back. The pigeons still coo and rustle their wings, with Mr Ramier no doubt nearby. The cars still zoom past, leaving acrid trails in their wake. The world just…keeps on keeping on, with no regard to the massive shock that’s turned people’s lives upside-down. All these people – these animals – they won’t know, they won’t care, what she and her friends have had to go through, being used like pawns in a chess game and giving up so much for the greater good, in ways that will stay with them forever –

“Marinette!” Warm hands grab her by the shoulders and a pair of brown eyes root her to the spot, grounding her so that she doesn’t float away from everything that’s currently assaulting her brain. She lets out a shuddering gasp and slumps forward, allowing the person to fully embrace her, and she buries her nose in the damp skin of their neck and inhales sweat and sharp deodorant, along with the faintest traces of what smells like some kind of incense.

“Kagami,” she croaks and digs her fingers into the back of Kagami’s blazer. “Why? What did Adrien do to deserve this? What did we do to deserve this? Lila – Mr Agreste – am I really that bad that they teamed up to break me –”

“What they did to you isn’t a punishment for anything,” Kagami says, firm but soft at the same time. “They colluded like that because they’re awful people.”

“But the way I treated you and – and stalked Adrien – I stole his phone, I followed him around, I tried to sabotage you with Chloé at the movie event because I was jealous – it’s been bothering me but I didn’t – it didn’t hit – not until now, when I realised how Mr Agreste and Lila treated him like – like a toy –”

“Marinette –”

“Why do you even like me? Why does Adrien like me? He said I’m good but I’m not. I’ve done bad things and it’s like – everyone acts like me being Ladybug makes me a saint but I’m not, I’m just a teenage girl and I can’t cope, I can’t do this –”

“Yes, you can.” Kagami undoes Marinette’s pigtails so that she can run her fingers through Marinette’s hair, stroking it in a rhythmic pattern that hypnotises Marinette into a blurry trance. “Hawkmoth and Mayura are dealt with. I’m here to talk to Adrien, just as you are, and we’ll figure it out, okay? We always will. And I can’t say that I haven’t acted jealously before either, because I definitely clung to Adrien to make a point to you and Chloé at the movie premiere, so you’re not a bad person just because you did a few bad things. And your flaws don’t mean that Adrien was lying when he said that you’re a brilliant girl. I wouldn’t have feelings for you if you were anything less than extraordinary. Why do you think I like Adrien?”

“God – I’m a mess –”

“It’s okay. I moved us to an alleyway, so no one will see. And now that there aren’t any more akumas, you deserve this, Marinette. It’s okay.”

Dimly, Marinette registers her legs caving underneath her as she sobs into Kagami’s shoulder and clutches fistfuls of the other girl’s blazer, finally exorcising everything she’s had to keep bottled up for fear of akumatisation, because Kagami’s right: now that there aren’t any akumas, there’s no threat for expressing her emotions, and it’s so good to be able to just break down like this, rather than having to suppress everything and paste on a smile for the greater good. She almost jumps out of her skin when someone leans against her back and wraps their arms around her from behind, but then she gets a whiff of their musky, earthy smell and she melts into their embrace because it’s Adrien; it’s her kitty, and he’ll always be there for her no matter what.

“Wow, you weren’t lying when you said she was a mess,” Adrien murmurs, his voice distorted as though they’re underwater. “What brought it on?”

“I don’t know what triggered it, but I believe the underlying cause is not being able to express any of this with Hawkmoth around. She just…exploded.”

The voices turn to a dull buzz after that as Marinette gasps in air and her tears finally start to die down. The next time she’s able to discern individual words, it’s Adrien talking to her as she finally stops crying and just slumps against Kagami with her eyes closed and her limbs like lead weights.

“It’s okay, Marinette,” he’s saying. “I forgive you for stealing my phone and following me and Lila home and everything else. And Kagami forgives you for trying to embarrass her.”

“But why?” Marinette croaks. “It’s not normal. I’m not normal. Why don’t you h-hate me? I’m a creep.”

“After what Hawkmoth and Lila did, you still think you’re a creep?” Adrien says. He gently pulls her back, detaching her from Kagami, and he pulls her into his lap and tangles his fingers in her hair, his warm breath ghosting across the top of her head. Through her blurry eyes, Marinette sees Kagami snuggling up to Adrien’s side and pulling Marinette’s legs into her lap while she rests her head on Adrien’s shoulder. “I said I forgive you, bugaboo, not that you didn’t do anything wrong. So, you know, that means that I know you messed up and I’m okay with it. It’s not like I’ve never made mistakes either.”

Somehow, it’s the admission that yeah, she’d screwed up, but he forgives her for it, that manages to calm Marinette down the rest of the way; if he’d tried to excuse her actions and brush them off as her never doing anything wrong, that probably would’ve just brought on a fresh emotional meltdown. She sags against Adrien and closes her eyes, allowing the last of her meltdown to seep out of her and into the world around them, and when Kagami shifts under her legs, she acts purely on instinct and wraps her legs around Kagami to pull her closer.

“Looks like Ladybug never skipped leg day,” Adrien says when Marinette pulls Kagami to lean back against her. Although Marinette can’t see him, she just knows that he’s wearing that shit-eating grin that Chat Noir always has, so she punishes him by elbowing him gently in the gut. “Meowch!”

“So, I’m guessing this means we’re…a thing?” Marinette says. Her voice cracks halfway through her sentence, like she’s a teenage boy in the middle of puberty, but thankfully, neither person around her calls her out on it.

“I’m happy with that if we take it slow and don’t jump straight into the deep end,” Adrien says. “It’s pretty lonely in the hotel, but hopefully Gorilla or Nino’s mother gets custody of me soon. I don’t know who they’re leaning towards. And after what just happened…well, if both of you want to give me kitty cuddles, I won’t say no. And, uh…I have to confess. One of the times I messed up as Aspik was because I…couldn’t stop staring at Multimouse’s butt. So, uh, I think that beats out any creepy things you’ve done.”

The shock of hearing Adrien confess to looking at her butt like he’s a little kitten confessing to being naughty jolts a laugh out of Marinette, and then she’s sagging against Adrien in a fit of piercing laughter as tears roll down her face. Alya had been right the other night. What the hell is wrong with them? How did they end up in a two-person love square that turned into a tangled polygon when Kagami had entered the room?

“Then it’s official.” Kagami laces her fingers with a hysterical Marinette’s and rests their hands on her stomach. “I have a tentative boyfriend and a girlfriend. But Adrien has a moral obligation to punch anyone who makes any disgusting remarks about him having “two girls”.”

“You act like I wasn’t gonna do that anyway,” Adrien grumbles. “I’ll also throw in an additional punch if they ask you two to make out with each other.”

“Our hero,” Marinette tries to say dryly, but the effect is ruined when she chokes it out in the middle of the hiccups of her dying laughter. “Whatever would we do without you?”

“Well, your life would be –”

“No, wait, don’t finish that sentence. I know you’ll make a pun out of it somehow and then I’ll be forced to punch you for it.”

“Aww,” Adrien whines, while Kagami snorts. “But that’s half my charm!”

“Getting punched? I agree,” Kagami says innocently. Adrien whines again and Marinette can’t help but laugh again and realise that, while navigating the territory of having two partners at the same time won’t be easy, the extra support is probably exactly what she needs right now. With her two partners and her two best friends by her side, there’s nothing the five of them can’t do; especially with no more supervillain terrorising Paris and no more attention-seeking teenage girl trying to ruin everyone else’s lives.

It really hadn’t been a good look for either of them after all.

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pyrodarknessanny · 3 years

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Whilst the topic of treating women with respect is a hot button issue at the moment it got me thinking about my own experiences in life. and whilst I can say that I am one of the lucky ones who’s not been assaulted things have happened around me that had they gone differently my story would be very different indeed. it also saddens me that I know so many close friends and family who were not so lucky , many of them were children when they were first abused. and yes I do know “not all men” but as the brothers , fathers , uncles , cousins ,friends and co-workers the weight of this falls on you to call out the unacceptable behaviour of your peers. I’m going to list this instances in chronological order. and keep in mind that I am a goblin , short, weird , don’t care for looking nice and makeup and such but still ive been put on the spot numerus times in the past by “nice guys”™ high school , senior years . met some one I thought was decent online . we had an on again off again video call thing going it spanned years and started innocently enough however in the latter years when I was super depressed it turned quite toxic and manipulative where he would refuse to pay attention to me, controlling the calls , there was a time zone difference so I was up till 4am most nights hoping that this person would be around. When we did get into calls he had me doing increasingly dangerous things . he’d even convinced me to send him a substantial amount of money of the last 12 months of our contact. I’ve since cut them off cold some years ago now but they’ve certainly had an impact on me

In between this on again off again online thing when I was single I’ve and no less than 3 older male friends try to hit me up because their partners at the time were out of town. one even messaged me one night when I was high and tried very hard to convince me that it would be a good idea to drop round. I don’t talk to any of them now but each one I told to stay faithful to their partners and denied their offers.

Also in high school - this happened at my part time job. boss had a mate who would often sell him stuff for the store , bit of a flipper. one of the other senior staff thought it was FUNNY to tell him that I was fair game. so this guy who is well in his 40’s would seek me out at work and harass me. usually when I was at the back of the shop bagging the bulk produce into smaller retail portions. mind you I’m an 18 yr old autistic person . had to find excuses to avoid this person make it look like im working in the areas that had security cameras on them or hope that there were customers so he couldn’t talk to me. I had spoken out about this to the boss and the owner of the business ( as it was one of his friends) but they all thought it was a harmless game. guy bailed me up at the back of the store one afternoon as im bagging up animal feed. Store was dead quiet so not a lot of escape options I had had enough of it by that point and put him in his place. Fortunately for me he was a little old Asian man had he of been some one of my dad’s stature that scenario would have played out MUCH differently.

Hey now speaking of family! growing up in an abusive household sure dose wounders for building character huh? im on good talking terms with my family now but growing up was interesting.

Our house hold was one of hard disciplines. We didn’t just get smacked we got absolutely belted.

Or our things were broken… actually it was only ever MY things that got trashed out of discipline. my 4 brothers always got off Scott free. Whenever there was a fight or argument ? it was always me that was in trouble regardless of the circumstance.

Good lessons to teach the kids eh’

My real dad was off the sceen, we were more or less raised by our step dad but when he got an upper management job at his place of work , shit at home got bad. The abuse turned from physical to psychological . nothing was ever good enough. You were always trash or a disgrace. and praise was only ever given to the brothers. So yeah more good lessons for impressionable teens. shitty ex #1 - met them at a convention , seamed like a reasonable kind of guy we hit it off and it was great. Very quickly realised something was off about them. tried very hard to control me . would say one thing and then do something else entirely. caught them out on numerous lies and on more than one occasion said some very concerning things about minors. Moments that stand out the most . was staying at my place for a party , either a birthday or Halloween . at my house with my family and close friends , had the gall to try and control my behaviour because he thought I was being too weird , he did this in front of my mother and best friend. Another time , it was my birthday and he promised to buy dinner out . started out as we would go to this fancy casino restaurant . ended at a Mc Donald’s with me catching the train home by my self fuming. I should have ended that one much sooner than I did but I didn’t want to come across as “mean” or unreasonable so it let it drag out for another 6 months before I told him to fuck off.

Dude then proceeded to cyber stalk me and several friends there after. he was super bad at this and finaly backed off when I threatened to call the cops. YEET!

Shitty ex #2 - technically we only dated for a few weeks decided that it didn’t work for either of us but stayed good friends . had to tell them frequently about what things were and weren’t appropriate for the friendship afterwards , eneded turning into one of the biggest narcicists ive ever seen.

Miscellaneous things. Im mentioned before about peer pressure and that its on the boys to call this shit out when they see it. I’ve had to be the voice of reason for a number of male friends when they were getting a bit too obsessed over girls who had zero interest in them. One guy in particular could not leave it alone , this girl he was white knighting for was a friend from school , she had a partner but he swore black and blue that he could “save her” from making shitty decisions. I think he eventually gave up on her when she ripped him off over some digital art that was a trace job and he lost a good sum of money but it was disturbing to hear just how obsessed he was with her.

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strangetownsayit · 4 years

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ok so um.......... .. . . ..

i had a really bad time, went crazy and deleted all my maurice fics. Yes I have them in my notes and if someone wants them, I can send them to them, but still. i no longer feel confident about You Don’t Own Me and To a Happier Year.

but i feel bad and guilty bc then i remembered someone who left a very nice comment in my fic. maybe ill rewrite everything and publish it again, but not today and certainly not tomorrow. so ill explain my outline for the two fanfics cus i already had a ending in mind

before anything-- do i plan to write more maurice fanfic? the answer is yes. i hyperfixate very hard on maurice so ill never stop, but ill try not to make it public till i trust my bilingual capacities

so, You Don’t Own Me

Percival Darsey is a young man who spend time in Penderleigh’s after having an encounter with Anne in the village next to Penge. He becomes Clive’s pupil bc of Anne’s desire, and so Percival bounces between them (wanting clive’s attention, then wanting anne’s)

Clive doesn’t really care about Percy’s attraction to Anne, bc he was sure it was silly love-at-first sight stuff. It was supposed to be explained later that Percy was really naive when it came to love. I actually had some dialogue written in my phone’s notes app to show how percy views were when it came to love and how easy it was for him to fall in love:

“I can’t do nothing but leave it to take me, Mr. Durham”, said Percy gently, with his back resting against the black slate of the roof; the light rays of sun --whose bright, blinding face was hiding behind clouds-- were worth coming the next day. “When someone smiles back at me, when someone touches my shoulder to get me out of the way, when they wish me a good day; I fall in love too easily, with many people. Approximately five times a day.”

“Many people?”, Clive laughed. “You mean, many women.”

Percival contemplated the sky a while.

“No,” he finally said, “many people.”

Percival was supposed to be Clive’s opposite: excited about loving and be loved in return, excited to be discovered and being so happy with himself, he can barely hide it.

But when Percival got infatuated with a man, an acquaintance of Clive, Clive started to snap, to wander, to ask questions he could’ve never asked before. But Percival had nothing to hide anyways, and this would make Clive distant

Resume: with time Percival would’ve become closer and closer to anne’s circle, and thus he would’ve grown tired and exhausted. Bc Percival is autistic, and he has very little spoons (a metaphor about being autistic), meeting new people every day, being dragged to social compromises and being treated as some sort of servant that these rich ppl needed for entertainment, he would’ve suffered a meltdown and avoid Pendersleigh for a while

But bc Percy is not dumb, he would’ve returned bc he needs to eat, and bc of his neurodivergence he couldn’t keep jobs that were mostly aimed to neurotypicals. So when he came back, he decided to stay in Clive’s side. He found comfort in his cases cus all he needed to do was ignore Clive and sleep and little lol. And so this was supposed to be the first step to develop their relationship: Clive being interested in percy now that he has discover Percy likes men as well, Percival feeling drawn to Clive. They get to know each other and eventually, they fall in love.

But ofc everytime Clive perceives a hint of flirt, he panics and back off, bc hes an I—HSHFS- NOO- WAIT—LMAO DLFAOF—IM SO SHY--- gay, and Percy is a ;)) bisexual, so they keep flirting a good part of my outline.

But then BOOm I planned Mrs Hall to visit clive. And so clive wouldve remembered everything with Maurice, feel bad, and reject percival once for all. Percival cries a lot and anne thinks he is sick bc he has an uncontrollable sobbing, but then he escapes again

Clive has some awful months and Anne notices. She knows, but at the same time, she doesn’t: she knows Percy and Clive had a cute dynamic and relationship, she knows they loved each other, but she cant notice the homoerotism they had, and so she goes on looking for percival

I shpuld add that even tho I didn’t outlined this, there was a subplot exploring Anne’s bisexuality. I was working on how to do it when I deleted the fanfic

She finds Percival and discovers that he lied this whole time: his real name is Daniel Darcy, son of Mrs. Darcy, a middle-class woman who fell in disgrace after her husband escaped with his lover. It is revealed that Percival has many brothers and is the youngest of all, being 22. It is also revealed that he have been running away from home and coming back since he was twelve. His mother openly talks shit about Percy and it is hinted that Percy is a Bastard, a product of a love affair.

There was a silly joke I had in my notes app:

“Many years ago, Mr. Darcy ran away from us, in the gay nineties”, he spat, struggling with laughing and bitterness. “Gay, my mother hates the word, just like she hates me and everything that is stunning.”

Then Anne wouldve told Percival about Clive but he wouldve stop her and ask her to go. But he wouldve return to penge a few weeks later cus he a dumbass who doesn’t value himself. Then he and clive wouldve kissed in the rain while he sees percy in the darkness of the night at penge’s garden, but then percy wouldve been like “lol bye” bc he just wanted to let clive know that he loved him too and that he would be back in the morning.

Fluffy ffluffy fluffy flufly

Then BOOM Maurice makes an appearance, telling clive everything about what happened with kitty, then asking for money lmao so he and alec can look for another place, and he tells clive that didn’t anywhere else to go. At fisrt Clive says no but then percy manages to persuade him into helping Maurice, who is surprised to see Clive with a man. Clive and Maurice have a nice chat, clive apologizes and cries and then the next day Clives calls Risley and cries too and say something like sorry I wasn’t there for you yoy didn’t deserved to go through that and it was so unfair, and then he -in a very subtle way- apologizes to anne. And thus Clive is clean of guilt

But then Clive and Percival have a fight bc he wants to participate in Clive’s life but Clive refuses. Angsty angsty angsty. Percival reveals he was promised by his mother his part of the heritage if he married and became a proper gentleman. He tells clive he will accept his mother offer if clive keeps being ashamed of him

Clive wants to be with percival but he sees himself in another drama, so he does what is easier: letting Percival go.

But percival didn’t expected that shit to happen ?? as extra as he is, he thought clive wouldve comfort him and kiss him. .. .. . . .

Bc he doenst know anywhere else to go, and doesn’t want to get married and hates his mom and he would hate it if he became clive, he goes with Maurice and Alec CUS HE WANTS THEM TO BE HIS DADS ¿’¿’’93 me too bitch get in the line

So advices advices advices. Percival has a clearer mind and he runs his way up to penge

So kisses kisses kisses, he and Clive are in love nd stuff. JUMP TIME, Maurice and alec live in France and they are Percy’s and Clive’s neighbors. Anne is looking for adventures and kisses many women and many men. Everyone is happy YAY I can cope

TO A HAPPIER YEAR

Ok I am a little tired I want to sleep jdswiow io

So Clive’s durham first love. Fluffly fluffly fflufy

It cover events during the movie (clive being tired of bullshit after Christmas vacs).

Bc clive is an asshole, he ignores Quinn (his first love and stuff]) and quinn wants to know why he is being pushed aside and why is clive so distant. But then he discovers it and wish clive luck

JUMP TIME they are both in their 36 and clive is miserable during a trip in Italy. They both meet during said trip, reconnect romantically, and HAPPY YEAR YES EVERYTHING IS HAPPIER THE YEARS HAPPY ENDING WHATEVer. I swear it is cuter Im just very sleepy now lol

#maurice (1987)

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kingsuckjin · 5 years

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The Enigma of Bunny | Pt.3

Pairing: Jungkook, Yoongi, Jimin, Jin, Taehyung(soon) x reader also featuring Hobi and Namjoon

Genre: fluffy fluff fluff, angst, smut (later) mystery, horror, yandere stuff later

Warnings: heavy talk of mental disorders and abuse (therapy) Jungkook has a weird episode that I can’t really explain now but just be weary. Eventual dark and yandere themes.

Synopsis: You find a very sick young man in an alley and out of the bottomless barrel of kindness that is your heart, you decide take him home. Only then do you realize this stranger doesn’t speak, but that’s not the only strange thing about him by far. Who is he? Where did he come from? What happened to him? And why can’t he remember anything or even speak?

Words:4.3kish

Tag list: If you want added to the tag list so you get notifications for new chapters then just let me know.

@rikkafunthepureone @illnevertrustmyselfagain @sam-moss

Prev // next

“Noona! Noona, Noona, Noona!”

“You really don’t need to wake her, I’m just here to-”

“Noona!”

You let out a sigh as you rolled out of bed and quickly but still groggy, headed off towards the calls to find Jungkook standing in the lounge with Yoongi who looked to be holding something.

“Sorry- I didn’t mean to wake y-”

“Noona.” Jungkook said as he pointed at Yoongi.

“I know Jungkook. That’s Yoongi. He lives over there, he’s been here before.” You pointed to the direction he lived in as you reminded him.

“So he has a name?” Yoongi asked as you walked closer to them to take a look at what he had in hid hands, a plastic tupperware container.

“Yeah, he named himself.”

“Jungkook.” He pointed to himself seeming to introduce himself to Yoongi, but Yoongi ignored it.

“I thought you…” he trailed off.

“I did but the police couldn’t find who he was and made me come get him because he was crying for me.”

Yoongi cracked a smile of amusement along with a brief laugh.

“Well, whatever. I brought you brownies. I made too many.” He said and held the container forward for you to take.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sentiment.

“Thank you!”

“I really didn’t have anything else to do with them besides throw them away.” He shrugged.

“I still appreciate it. Hey, do you think maybe you could come with me later to do something if you’re not busy later? I kind of need a favor-”

“Yeah.” You were cut off speaking by his fast reply. “Well, what is it? I might have time… probably.”

“Its for Jungkook over here. He has no clothes and I don’t know how long he’s going to be here and he can’t keep wearing my clothes and-”

“Obviously.” Yoongi said looking over the tight pink pajamas he was wearing. You went on anyway ignoring his comment.

“And I don’t know anything about men’s clothes or what men need. I think I need to shave him but I don’t know how?”

“Shave him?” He asked with raised eyebrows.

“His face, yeah. I don’t know how good he’d look with a biker beard.”

“I’ll help.” Yoongi agreed.

“Thank you thank you thank you!” You jumped around as you said. You felt relieved that you didn’t have to try to figure this out all by yourself now.

“When?”

“When are you free?” You replied.

“Well I mean I’m not doing anything right now…”

You clapped your hands together with a smile.

“Yes! Let me go get dressed and grab Jungkook’s only clothes.” You raced off and hurriedly got dressed.

When you returned with Jungkook’s neatly folded clothes he began to strip until you stopped him and pushed him into the bathroom and closed the door.

“So hes like… actually mentally…?” Yoongi whispered to me.

“He’s smart.” You replied defensively.

“But he just…”

“But he catches onto things so quickly. He figures things out sometimes by himself. I-I don’t know. I’m no psychologist but if he was disabled he would’ve learned all these things already, he would’ve seen them being done and copied whoever cared for him. He’s learning to speak so fast. I… I kind of- I just have this feeling something happened to him and I don’t know why. It’s hard to explain.”

“Maybe you should have him see a doctor.” Yoongi suggested to you as Jungkook came out fully dressed. Before you even put your shoes on he was putting his on. He had already realized you all were leaving.

You put yours on too and as you stepped out of the apartment complex all together. Jungkook grabbed your hand and placed it on his muscled upper arm.

“Why is he making you do that?” Yoongi had seen the gesture.

“Well the first time we went out he was distracted by a lot of stuff and he took off once in the store, he’s also a little jittery. This way I can guide him, stop him, and lead him, we do it every time we go somewhere. I think it might be a comfort thing for him at his point.”

“What do you mean?”

“It makes him feel safe. I’ve noticed that there’s a couple things he likes doing that makes him feel safe, that’s why I think something happened to him.”

“Like what? What are the things?”

“Well first of all he flips out if I leave him. He doesn’t like knocking at the door or loud noises.” You looked to Jungkook to give him a quick smile that he returned.

“He squeals every time I knock.” Yoongi replied.

“He also likes me calling him by his nickname, or well, what I named him first.”

“So you don’t think he might be autistic? My cousin is on the autism spectrum.” Yoongi came right out and asked.

“I don’t really know what the qualifications for that are. He doesn’t seem slow at anything, just new at everything, absolutely everything.” You shrugged.

“So whats the deal with that? Do you like help him go to the bathroom or bathe him?” He asked.

“He can go to the bathroom himself.” You answered understanding Yoongi’s harmless curious questions about your guest.

“So do you bathe him?”

At this question though you went quiet for a few seconds, you decided it was best not to say a clear yes or no, just to explain.

“He acted like he had never even seen a bathtub before. But I think he can do it himself now after I did it for him.”

“That’s… strange. Your like… bathing a grown stranger man.”

You pouted as he once again judged you.

“Its not. Nurses help people do that stuff all the time, especially for the elderly or handicapped. Its not like I saw anything when I helped him anyway, I look away. I don’t think its very weird, he’s learning.”

“I guess you put it that way it’s not to bad. Its actually pretty sweet of you.”

You now beamed at Yoongi after he said this as it restored your faith in him.

“Noona.” Jungkook pointed to graffiti on the side of a building depicting a very realistic cat.

“Cat. It’s a cat.” He replied in a full, clear sentence.

“Nice job!” You gave his arm a proud squeeze as you cooed.

“Noona.” He said and pointed at a bus.

“Bus.” You told him.

“Its a bus.” He now seemed to mutter to himself trying the sentence on the new word. His parroting had evolved.

You admit you didn’t really like going out like this before, but now just hearing his vocabulary grow made you want to keep him out all day.

“Good job.” You whispered to him.

“Jungkook good job?” He asked.

“Jungkook did a good job.” You replied correcting him and also telling him.

“Noona did a good job… noona… noona tell Jungkook, cat, bus, star.” He looked down at you with fondness.

“What?” Yoongi asked probably confused by the seemingly random words, but you knew.

“Are you thanking me for teaching you?” You asked Jungkook and his face lit up at my words letting me know you were right as he nodded.

“Yes! Thanking you.”

“You mean thank you.” You corrected.

“Noona thank you.”

There was something powerful about him thanking you, showing his appreciation for something you were trying so hard at helping him with. It wasn’t just his look of appreciation this time, he had decided to struggle with his words just to let you know he appreciated your efforts.

“You’re welcome.” Was the only uncomplicated reply you could think of, but it didn’t serve how you felt justice.

“He’s… actually not as bad at talking as I thought.” Yoongi admitted.

“He couldn’t even put together sentences before yesterday. He didn’t know any words when I found him. I think he learned them from me and dramas.”

“Oh. Wow… wait. Have you ever thought Korean just might not be his first language?” Yoongi asked before getting Jungkook’s attention and saying something in English but he obviously didn’t understand.

“Well that still wouldn’t explain him not knowing what a bath was or how to drink from a cup, I’m pretty sure they do those things in other countries as well.” You pointed out.

“Odd. Very odd.” Yoongi cocked a brow at Jungkook as if he were a puzzle that had yet to be solved.

You all went in clothing store after clothing store, picking him up item after item.

Even though Yoongi mostly only wore black you noticed he had quite an eye for fashion and you were glad for that. You even had Jungkook help by picking between some items. You had him try on so many things and you were pretty happy about getting to dress him up like a living doll. He had a nice body, nice face and a nice haircut so almost anything you put him in looked good. You went a little overboard but that was fine since you had a nice big chunk of savings put away from all this time living alone and only having to care for yourself, so you didn’t mind splurging on pricey things for him.

You also picked up some nice stuff for yourself and Yoongi couldn’t help but join in and buy some things for himself too. You were surprised when you suggested something would look good on Yoongi and he immediately snatched it up and bought it.

During the little outing together you all had some lunch. You finally asked him about what he did for work and you were amazed to find out he produced music so he worked from home too.

Jungkook seemed to kind of take a liking to him too and on the way home Jungkook did what he always did with you to learn words.

“Yoongi.” Jungkook pointed to a kid riding a bike.

“Bike.” Yoongi replied and Jungkook repeated it back possibly to remember it.

“Yoongi.” Jungkook pointed again as we walked by a river.

“River. It’s water.” Yoongi told him.

“Bath?” Jungkook asked.

“No, not like a bath.” Yoongi laughed and you smiled.

You went back to your place where Yoongi taught and helped you shave Jungkook’s face with a razor and shaving cream.

“Hold still, Bunny.” You had to remind him a few times.

“Bunny still.” Jungkook replied and would sit still for only a few moments before fidgeting again.

“Well stop talking before I accidentally cut your lip off.” Yoongi told him as he concentrated on his face.

You thanked Yoongi before he left and you two got each others numbers, his reason being he could help with him if you ever needed it.

Jungkook looked happier and much better in his own new pajamas and freshly clean and bathed after disappearing off into the bathroom for a while by himself. It kind of sparked pride in you. He deserved it for working so hard.

You decided that you’d attempt to make an appointment to have him seen by a psychologist or something to see what they had to say about him. You didn’t care if there was “something wrong with him” as some people would put it, you just wanted to better be able to understand him even though he seemed to understand you just fine. You wanted a professional opinion to see what they thought about him, why they thought he was the way he was.

You heard the tv on all night and Jungkook seemingly talking to himself. At one point you peeked into the lounge to check on him to find him saying back phrases from shows. It was around one in the morning and he looked tired but he was learning, he was up doing his best and it warmed your heart.

You walked into the living room and he didn’t notice you at first but when he did it took him by surprise and he jumped.

“Lets go to bed Jungkook.” You told him and turned off the tv before covering him up. He got the message and laid back on the sofa.

You went to pull away and go back to bed but he put your hands on your arm stopping you.

“Noona, thank you.” He said and you could feel his appreciation once again, you could see it in his big brown eyes that looked up at you.

“You’re welcome, Bunny. Goodnight.” You told him and he let you go to bed and so did he.

There was a loud yell and at first you thought you were dreaming until you heard it again followed by a loud thump.

It was Bunny.

You jumped from your bed and into the living room that was only lit by the television to see Jungkook tangled in blankets and seemingly fighting with nothing and rolling on the floor.

“Bunny! Bunny Bunny.”

You ran to his side and knelt on the floor, dodging his flying fists as you did so. You managed to grab both his wrists and his eyes flew open.

He panted hard as he just stared up at you. His eyes were big and glossed with horror as he breathed hard. You helped pull him to a sitting position on the floor seeing as he was now much calmer and now staring just straight ahead until you spoke.

“Are you alright? Did you have a nightmare?” Your voice was gentle and quiet which was a sharp contrast to the commotion a moment ago.

He just looked at you still breathing hard, looking like he was deciding not to answer this time.

Your hand went to his firm back and rubbed gentle circles until his breathing slowed down and he seemed to shake off however he felt.

If he didn’t want to talk about it, you weren’t going to make him.

“Bunny okay.” He finally told you before getting back up on the sofa to lay down but you still looked at him with concern.

“Promise. Sleep, okay?”

You finally nodded before heading back to your bed. You however didn’t go to sleep immediately, but stayed up for a while just to make sure he was okay.

The next morning he ate his cereal and drank his banana milk and watched more dramas as you called around to try to make him an appointment to see someone. You found out it was pretty hard to do for someone with no identity, but after explaining his story one psychologist they had agreed to see him later on that day most likely out of curiosity.

After you were off the phone you sat down with Jungkook who had just come back from putting his dishes in the sink.

“Noona. How are you today?” He asked before you could say anything and you couldn’t help but be astonished at his perfectly put together question.

“Good. Happy. You’re doing a good job at learning. How are you today?”

“Uhh…” He looked to either be thinking or choosing words “happy.” He stated “Noona…uhh making… Jungkook happy. Noona… cares Jungkook…?” He tailed off at the end like a question, like he was unsure of his words.

“I do care about Jungkook.” You smiled and upon hearing this he smiled back.

“I do care about noona.” He said back just the way you had, but replacing the names.

“Thank you, that means a lot to me.” You replied “Jungkook, how would you feel about going somewhere to talk to someone today?” You decided to break the news.

“Uhhh…” he seemed to think again “Jungkook talking… not good.”

“I know, but that’s okay.” You assured him.

“Noona won’t leave?”

You and you understood that he was wondering if you were going to leave him there like at the police station.

“No no, I won’t leave you there. I’ll stay.”

“Kay.” He seemed very pleased by your answer.

When he got dressed you couldn’t help but admire just how absolutely normal he looked, but how else was he supposed to look though? disheveled? He pretty much knew how to take care of himself now but you were just amazed at how little time it took him to learn and how fast he was at understanding things.

You explained all of this to the psychologist, how fast he learned, and how just a week ago he couldn’t talk or bathe himself. You talked about how he acted like he had never drank from a cup or seen a cat or bus or went to a store before you. You also talked about how he was so nervous and jumpy sometimes. You laid it all out for her in the little office as you sat on a sofa with Jungkook who was scooted close to you, seeming nervous and quiet but she seemed to be watching him carefully before she decided to talk with him a bit possibly to gauge his language skills.

“How are you today Jungkook?” She asked the same question he had this morning, you knew he had this one.

“Good.” He replied normally but bit his lip nervously.

“Why? What did you do today?”

“Jungkook ate- I ate… chips.” He seemed to correct himself and I could tell he was feeling under pressure right now. “I… had… bath. I… try to… learn.�� He pieced things together slowly but the best he could.

“Good! Wow.” She said making him finally look proud instead of nervous “you teach yourself to talk?” She asked and he nodded.

“I see talking and… I… learn, I keep it.” He said and pointed to his head.

She now turned to you.

“When you first found him do you recall if there were any marks of possible abuse on his body?” She asked obviously thinking the same thing you had felt.

“No, he was just really sick and out of it. Honestly I thought he might die when I brought him home. He was really pale, he still is a little but there were no bruises or anything and he was dressed alright.”

“You said just a week ago he practically knew nothing and now he’s caring for himself and almost speaking in complete sentences. What I was thinking was that he already knew all these things, he’s just recalling these words and what they mean or remembering how to bathe once you show him. He doesn’t seem at all like hes on the autism spectrum. He does seem nervous around people but he’s still social and not too awkward and he doesn’t at all mind eye contact or touching since hes been holding onto you this whole time. But the nervousness might be due to trauma of some kind that he can’t recall. He can’t remember any of these things but they’re all still in the back of his mind somewhere. I’m honestly leaning towards amnesia from some kind of dis-associative amnesia from some sort of traumatic event.” She explained.

“I thought amnesia only happened from bumps on the head or something.” You really knew nothing about this.

“No, not at all. Psychogenic amnesia happens if a person is just under a crazy amount of stress over something. If this is true he might also be suffering from PTSD over an event he can’t even remember so he might not be getting the flashbacks an individual with PTSD would have, just the sudden fear and anxiety when certain things happen. Is there anything hes scared of?”

“Oh yeah.” You replied “Horror movies, knocks at the door, being left alone and me getting upset with him, those are just off the top of my head.

“Yeah, that sounds like he might’ve suffered some sort of abuse.” She said confirming my worries. Your face fell at what she had just told you, you really didn’t want either of you to be right. “But the good news is he seems to be doing just fine with you, whatever you’re to help seems to be working.”

“Will he ever be able to remember anything or what happened to him?” You were curious.

“There’s a good chance, yes, if he did blank out absolutely everything like that then maybe not. It depends on the person and the severity of amnesia and trauma.”

“And how bad would you say his is?” You asked already knowing the answer.

“Extreme.” Was her answer.

She also talked about what to do if he ever had a severe PTSD attack and how he might act and it was scary to you to imagine. Part of you didn’t want him to ever remember just in case he did go through something awful.

She talked with him more and asked him if anything bad had ever happened to him but he just seemed confused.

She told me to hang in there with him and that if he stayed with me that he would undoubtedly be able to return to what he once was before… whatever that was.

Over the next few days you worked on finding things that would help him. Yoongi had brought over an electric razor so he could shave himself and he also had dinner with you guys. You could tell Jungkook really liked his company but not so much Jimin’s when we saw him a few times.

You also found out Jungkook liked to draw and was astoundingly good at it. Also found out that he could not only draw, but he knew how to write and spell and everything as well even though it was just as jumbled as his speech still was, that was okay though.

You had bought him a pad of paper and a pack of pencils at the store after he asked “Noona, can we have?” As he begged with those big eyes and of course you couldn’t say no.

You watched him draw everything from realistic detailed cats lounging in windows to cartoonish containers of banana milk. You admired what he drew and you loved to watch him concentrate as his pencil danced over yhe paper. It seemed that even though he struggled with words still a bit, he didn’t struggle at all making beautiful things from flow onto the paper from his mind, it was so effortless for him.

You liked the way he smiled at you when you complimented him on his drawing skills.

You got a call from detective Kim Namjoon at the end of the week to let you know they still had nothing on who he was and that’s when you explained to him what the psychologist had told you.

You kind of hoped that maybe even if they did find a loved one of his then they didn’t let him go back because you were scared of them hurting him.

You watched him hunched over over paper, drawing silently with a look of concentration on his face on the sofa with his shaggy hair dangling down away from his forehead. He would occasionally run his fingers through the shiny locks. He looked so at ease, so professional somehow when he drew. He was so sweet, but you thought about what horrors he could’ve been though to cause something this bad.

“Bunny?” You interruped him .

“Huh?” He set his pencil down and looked at you.

“I really do care about you, I meant it.”

The sweet smile that erupted on his face was priceless and made your heart flutter. You wanted to hug him, just wrap your arms around him and enjoy his company right now knowing you may not have much longer with him. At any given moment the detective could call and-

“I really do care about you too, noona.”

He answered. He now knew your name, Yoongi called you it all the time, but Jungkook still didn’t call you by it and you were okay with that because when you two were alone you still called him Bunny.

You realized you were just staring hat him all goofy with a smile creating some strange type of tension between the both of you. He must’ve realized this too because he looked over your face and probably thought you were dumb.

To your surprise he reached up and took your chin between his large thumb and index finger and took control of your head, wiggling it back and forth gently, playfully, but rapidly.

You couldn’t help but laugh at this random gesture as he dropped his hand with a grin and went right back to drawing.

You liked his approach.

You liked that he had just combated your awkwardness with playfulness and kindness.

“Cute.” He mumbled as he stayed focused on his drawing.

You were left speechless with his comment but in your head you wholeheartedly disagreed, he was obviously the cute one in your eyes.

You wondered if he knew, if he would ever know

That him simply being around you brought you great joy and erased the loneliness from you that you had denied you even had while living alone. How you barely went outside before he got here but now found yourself wanting to take him out and about every day. Could he tell you didn’t care in the slightest about what you wore but cared about him feeling good in his new clothes? Could he tell how sometimes you felt your heart would just implode with a sense of joy every time he even did something small or made any improvement.

Or would he not understand?

You liked to think he did, he showed signs he did. You liked to think he was proud of himself too, that he felt good about himself, that he was coming out of all of this.

You didn’t know if you would ever see the day when all his pieces were back together, if it even happened at all.

You felt it coming though with the phone call earlier from the detective reminding you they were still searching. Though just now might’ve been your brain pleading to let him know, just once more, that you cared before it was all gone. You weren’t going to even try to trick yourself into thinking he didn’t have a place out there in this world even if you sometimes felt like you didn’t. He was far to kind and pretty and talented for you to think he was no one like you occasionally felt you were.

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tookishcombeferre · 4 years

Text

I just cried so hard over many things.

First, Kamala Harris talking about being a role model for women. The camera panned over to a few different groups of girls both black and white.

Second, when Kamala Harris smiled, I could see how young she is and how much joy and hope she knows she’s bringing to the US. The fire and passion and confidence in that smile spread like those little votive candles at a prayer service. Everyone was lit up by the end.

Third, when Biden stepped out and started talking, every word he spoke made actual sense.

Fourth, Biden loves his family and his wife. He talked about AN ACTUAL EDUCATOR being in the White House, and he showed actual affection towards the American people.

Fifth, when Biden stumbled on his words, I actually love it when he does that. He’s so human and real. He’s not perfect. He’s got a speech disorder, and yet it’s his humility in acknowledging his voter base and his disability that got him this far. He’s not a perfect man. He’s sometimes a little weird uncle-like. But, I wouldn’t be afraid of, post-pandemic, being in a room with him alone. I would let him meet my children. I wouldn’t side step him on the street like I would Trump or have walked away from other loud white men. (The bar is so low, friends. So so low)

Yes, I know we have so so far to go. But, for a moment, I cried because a leader of my country spoke words that were meaningful and coherent. I understood what they had to say and the message was about coming back together instead of dividing ourselves. So, for one moment, I’m going to breathe a sigh of relief before getting back to work on the hard shit. Becasue tonight, for the first time, I see some hope that the work will mean something when I do it.

Autistic brothers, sisters, and siblings tonight is a night where we can breathe a little easier. Our fight is far from over, but we can find some joy tonight. We can now dream of a world where we can create safer communities so what happened in Utah never happens to another one of our own. White autistic folks use your privilege and educate yourselves so that we can work under the direction of Black Lives Matter and other Black community leaders in their mission to protect their communities, and ours, from police brutality and violence. In every instance of unnecessary police brutality to any person in this country, BLM has been there to vouch for and protest these heinous acts of violence. The least we can do is educate ourselves on anti-racism so that we can be useful allies instead of sitting ducks.

My queer brothers, sisters, and siblings we survived. We did it. Not all of us have been allowed survival - especially our elders and Black trans women and other POC trans folks. We’ve seen an influx of members of our community elected into office. This is a great day for us even though we know our fight is far from over. For some of us, people still don’t believe that our experiences exist. For others, we are still seeking acceptance within the community for the unique ways that we approach our sexuality. We are still working! That is okay. But, tonight? We celebrate.

My democratic Christians, especially Catholics, one of our own has been elected. Joe Biden is an Irish Catholic. We celebrate that someone of real and substaintial faith is leading this country and, at least so far, is professing to follow that faith to reenergize and restore our country.

Or maybe even just like I don’t know begin trying to live up to what we preach? We’ve never really done that but we can start, I guess. This is hard to phrase. My apologies.

We made it. Through all of the confusion. Through all of the lack of transparency. Through all of the painful tragedy and uncertainty of the last four years. We have made it. That, in itself, is cause for celebration.

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redandfranticfeelings · 5 years

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okay ive been wanting to make a post like this for a while but i wanted to make it an essay and i dont know if i can really organize my thoughts in that way yet, so here’s a chronological bullet-pointed dump to explain my very important thesis:

be more chill is about internalized ableism, and jeremy, michael, and christine are all highly autistic coded. this is going to be very long and detailed but only because there’s a lot of details that work very well under this lens.

there’s probably even stuff i missed but this is already extremely long so it basically just functions as a way for me to collect a bunch of details that i can piece together later in a more coherent manner.

“more than survive” in the context of jeremy being autistic works so much. the theme of wanting to be just socially acceptable enough to not burn out or be harassed is so relatable, and it visually establishes very early how jeremy is isolated from his peers due to his own awkward behavior and hypersensitivity. it’s coupled with his very obvious anxiety disorder, but the social aspect just screams autistic coding to me. i take this song to basically be “not having a meltdown is basically my goal but i would love to be neurotypical enough so i can heighten my standards and actually enjoy my social life.” some choice segments:

“if i’m not feeling weird or super strange, my life would be in utter disarray, cuz freaking out is my okay”

jeremy’s house being a mess is partly due to his dad’s serious depression, yeah, but i believe the other aspect is that jeremy’s executive dysfunction makes it just as hard to clean up in his place

he gets super anxious at the prospect of his expected routine being shaken up and having to make the decision on his own of how to get to school

“so i follow my own rules and i use them as my tools to stay alive” honestly sounds like a euphemism for autism to me

jeremy not really realizing that he’s staring at chloe

“avoiding any eye contact at all” explains itself

michael’s introduction, oh my god, every time i watch this part i just adore it. i could talk a lot more about michael’s autism later but this whole segment sells it especially.

first off, michael keeping his hood up and headphones on in a deliberate attempt to avoid social interaction and stay in his own space is such an autistic mood. even before this scene he’s constantly moving in the background to his music a la stimming. in the later performances he spends a lot more time playing with his hoodie strings and even chews on them!!

the fact he doesn’t talk to or even really look at jeremy until his song is done playing also feels very autistic to me! and the way he dances so confidently and basically pretends even his best friend isn’t there for the time being because he’s engrossed in his own passions.

michael is a great friend but it’s clear that he doesn’t really understand that his coping mechanism doesn’t really work for jeremy, and that even though michael feels confident reclaiming his identity as a ‘loser,’ jeremy doesn’t really feel any better about it. i think a lot of autistic folks, or at least i do, have this tendency to assume what works for us works for everyone around us at first due to our struggles with empathy. michael tries his best but struggles to see outside his point of view. it’s mind-blindness in action and jeremy can’t communicate why it upsets him any better than michael can pick up on it not working for him.

near the end of the song, they have a brief moment where all the ensemble crowds in around jeremy and the lights start flashing, which i interpret as a visual representation of sensory overload.

we’ll talk more about her soon, but outside of jeremy’s fantasies about her, christine also avoids social interaction during this number, constantly hiding her face in a book and avoiding eye contact just as much as jeremy. people forget that she’s not comfortable with unexpected social interaction, and that really informs my headcanon for her which brings us to....

“i love play rehearsal” is an autistic anthem. it also works, possibly even better due to in-text evidence, as an adhd anthem, but combined with the above it makes so much sense for her to be comorbid autism/adhd. i did a breakdown of the song in this context before, but i’ll sum it up here

the song showcases what having a special interest/hyperfixation is like. christine is singing to jeremy, yes, but she really seems so caught up in her own passion without much regard for how jeremy is following it, and even cuts him off from responding to her once or twice because she’s just so hyped up on her own feelings. she also basically implies her happiness is reliant on her special interest which is very relatable.

lines like “you follow a script so you know what comes next” also really sell the interpretation that christine isn’t good in unpredictable situations, and has so many identity issues and likes having something to look to where things are laid out for her. i think that stability is what a lot of autistic people look for, especially teenagers.

also with that in mind, look at how upset she gets watching a play she loves about get rewritten into something weird and new that she doesn’t know.

also gotta love how she still self-isolates before this song by focusing on her book, until she has a reason to infodump to jeremy. and then feels guilty afterwards and goes right back into her book while apologizing for getting “carried away”....biiiig mood there

the whole intro scene showcases both of their awkwardness so much. jeremy gets completely thrown off by her sarcastic comment about the swim team and almost believes it, which implies that he can’t read tone very well. and then christine’s “you’re a virgin” comment comes across like she really didn’t think about how that would sound to jeremy before saying it since she only made the clarification after he was ready to panic about it. she has a habit of speaking before she thinks, i think, the self-harm comment is also very awkward considering she barely knows jeremy.

after that scene we get “more than survive reprise” where jeremy admits to routinely having such bad breakdowns that he needs to step out and go to the nurse which works for both the anxiety disorder and the autism interpretation.

i’m not quite sure whether i see rich as autistic (i see him with a lot of mental issues for sure though) so i can’t say much on “the squip song” but there’s definitely something to describing a confused autistic kid as “almost helpless.” rich definitely has a habit of giving too much information though, i’ll say that.

“two player game” is just jeremy and michael being autistic solidarity: the song. i guess this is a good place to say that jeremy and michael work well as a contrast b/w two sides of autistic community, the side that struggles to function and desperately wants a change bc they’re afraid of being alone forever, and the side that tries to love all their symptoms and embrace their autistic pride. and as coincidental icing on the cake, jeremy wears blue (associated with the derogatory views from autism speaks) and michael wears red (associated with combating said views through autistic pride).

btw you could probably attribute michael’s ability to casually down a long-expired crystal pepsi as a sort of weird sensory quirk. and his fixation w/ that sort of memorabilia honestly feels like a special interest in its own right!

both “nice sideburns....wolverine, right” and “like in x-men????” using fiction as a reference point for real life always gives me autistic vibes (esp the first point where he awkwardly uses it to start conversation). can we assume x-men is a special interest? :3

jake referring to jeremy as a ‘freak’ when the squip turns on is really sad in this context but it also does make so much sense

now we get to the squip.....and what do you know, it uses tactics from abusive therapy used on autistic children. dare i say that “be more chill” as a song isn’t just an abuser’s song, but an ableist’s abuser’s song.

first off, the “spinal stimulation.” here’s a not so fun fact: electroshock therapy has been used to discourage autistic behavior in very recent years. (content warning in link for graphic description of ableist torture)

then the lyrics, in which the squip mostly focuses on jeremy’s posture and physically punishes him for disobeying. jeremy is shown to really struggle to stand up straight and pose himself in a normal, confident way, and i think that tendency to be unaware of what our body is doing is a pretty autistic thing?

the fact the squip singles out stammering and refers to jeremy’s “tics and fidgets” brings attention to two more autistic traits of jeremy’s

the squip basically punishes jeremy for responding “incorrectly” to social situations like rejecting brooke, even if they aren’t objectively wrong. it eventually just starts speaking for jeremy because jeremy seems incapable of acting natural. the squip is an abusive autism parent.

“sync up” demonstrates jeremy’s weird relationship with empathy. he wants to be nice to everyone- will has even called him “deeply empathetic”- but he’s initially really bad at seeing other people’s point of view, which is why he positions himself as sort of against the world, seeing everyone as better than him or trying to set up these barriers of Coolness where everyone else must be perfect compared to him. he’s so surprised to learn that the popular kids also hurt because of his strict idea of the social structure. it’s a combination of low self esteem and a black-and-white viewpoint.

let’s go back to christine. the squip, already established as ableist abuser, finds her “highly unusual” for acting in a way that disregards everyone who views her. she has very strange and specific visions in her head, and it seems very natural for her even if jeremy struggles to follow along.

in later performances, she chews on her sleeve and spins around during AGTIKBI. that’s stimming, babes. also gotta acknowledge “i don’t always relate to other people my age, except when i’m on the stage”

i’m gonna use this section to talk about jake and christine. christineis a bit unsure when interacting with jake, until he validates her interest- her acting is what really touches him. but jake, while good-hearted, has trouble being self-centered and thus not fully aware of christine’s own needs and space. so christine is always a little uncomfortable around him, especially in public, and not always willing to socialize. he is right about her being kind of stuck in her comfort zone, though, not doing anything off of her stage. and he is genuinely nice to her, it’s just a matter of their social strategies clashing.

the fact that the squip blocks out michael...i’ve had a lot of times in my life where i was told that socializing with other “weird” people would be counterproductive for my social development and it was part of why i was stuck with so few friends. so i really feel the idea that blocking out the person who helps you feel confident in your atypicality is framed as a good thing so you can act more socially adept, and that doing otherwise would just drag you both down.

hot DAMN does “loser geek whatever” make so much sense for an autistic kid with internalized ableism.

“it’s not only school that’s rough, being lonely’s stupid tough” makes it pretty clear this isn’t about the school social scene as muc as it is the entire social scene of the world. we may not see it, but it’s just (not) interacting with people in general that jeremy can’t stand.

“michael says that weird is rad but feeling weird just makes me sad” as stated above, makes a Lot More Sense with the idea that michael is both a more confident autistic and really bad at addressing jeremy’s own internalized ableism and desire to make connections outside his small friend group.

everything about jeremy boiling down all his problems to his “instincts” sucking and needing to basically be told what to do really highlights how autistic kids can feel broken because of their inability to fit into the social norm, to the point where we repress every behavior that actually makes us feel comfortable and unique.

not to mention the line about him being seen as a “normal handsome guy” since autistic people tend to be infantilized and never seen as desirable (will roland also implied this line has trans coding which is another discussion altogether but i feel i should acknowledge that here)

all of those terms that jeremy calls himself near the end- namely weirdo, misfit, oddball, freak, failure- all of this sounds like the shit people throw at autistic kids. like this goes beyond anxiety alone, this is jeremy being outcasted and oppressed by the general public due to his behavior. especially the “please don’t speak” part, considering how often autistic kids are mocked for misunderstanding when to speak, how to speak, and what to talk about. jeremy needs some freaking love. :(

“michael in the bathroom” is a panic attack, related to severe anxiety, but i do see a lot of aspects that play into autism as well. the little nervous stimmy movements of foot-bouncing and picking at grout, the explosive sensory overload during the “knock knock” section of the bridge, the whole concept of losing the only person you ever managed to connect to without sacrificing who you are, dealing with this massive change to your sense of philosophy and reality where you pinned everything on one person to ground yourself, and thus you’re now completely lost trying to isolate yourself from this big overwhelming social gathering...neurodivergent anthem all around.

jeremy and christine’s couch interactions during halloween give me such autistic positivity. christine basically echolales jeremy’s weird noise and they both have so much fun vocal stimming that they forget there’s another person in the room. it’s such a sweet moment until jeremy ruins it by realizing that asking her out right after a breakup is Not Really Good For Her.

christine’s reaction to the fire demonstrates a clear case of hyperempathy to me. it isn’t discussed as much as a complete lack of empathy, but autistic folks are prone to feeling way too much especially when it comes to others’ pain. christine talking about how she hates that everyone’s hurting and desperately wants to help but doesn’t know how, and how we’ve already seen how much she struggles to connect with others like jake....it’s a very relatable, very specific autistic mood.

going back to the theme of jeremy and empathy, christine’s above hyperempathy kind of breaks this mold, and while jeremy always does feel for the other kids, by this point he feels so strongly- particularly for christine, who he also saw as a perfect confident being until now- that the squip can manipulate him into “fixing” everyone the same way the squip was supposed to “fix” him. and he never considers that christine doesn’t need to be fixed because he just projects his own insecurity that strongly onto everyone else who seems “weird” in the same kind of way- hence why he assumes michael is jealous of him back in MITB. it’s likely a result of the squip’s manipulation but i feel like mind-blindness is a factor, even if jeremy switches between struggling to process others’ emotions and being extremely empathetic.

michael’s special interest saves the day!!! :D

the whole fight b/w jeremy and michael, assuming it comes from a genuine place of repressed bitterness, has a lot of added subtext with them both being autistic. jeremy accusing michael of “giving up” on social interaction, michael envies jeremy for trying bc michael is clearly Not comfortable in most large social settings, jeremy envies michael for his pride, it just hits home for me i guess

rich calling michael “antisocial headphones kid” honestly how is michael not canon autistic

in the off-bway version michael briefly speaks too loud forgetting that jeremy’s head still hurts which is a relatable Forgot About Boundaries thing. plus him smacking rich playfully forgetting that rich is Still In Pain

“voices in my head” works nice as a fuck-societal-norms-and-just-be-happy song. “embrace the traits that make you so odd” in particular :’)

jeremy remembering christine’s infodump about her obscure bowling alley performance art idea and bringing it up to her again!!!

the squip doesn’t go away because ableism and the anxiety it brings and all the upsetting symptoms of autism don’t go away, but with the right support and confidence you can live with them!!! good message for mental disorders in general and works very well in this context!!!

so in conclusion.....be more chill is autistic pride!!!

#be more chill #bmc #actuallyautistic #autistic headcanons #long post #be more neurodivergent #queue are so busted

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alkaliyogi · 4 years

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WE ARE CURRENTLY IN HELLS PIT OF FIRE AND MISERY…

How did we get here?

2020 is shaping-up to be quite a year; we lost Kobe an important figure to sports yes, but more importantly a role model for black fathers and especially fathers to beautiful brown skinned girls. Now we have COVID, deaths, social distancing and possibly (and I shudder at this thought) mandatory vaccines in the near future.

Many people lack the vitality and life-force energy required to participate in a democracy. This is not by accident. It was designed this way.

There is a long history of manipulation of the human race at the hands of the 1% of the 1%- this is what I predict will happen on the other side of COVID;

Travel will become more of a nightmare than it already is. More abuse at the hands of underpaid/overworked security personnel and undignified body searches. I worked in aviation for over 10 years- if you still believe that Arab men flew those aircrafts into the Pentagon and World Trade Towers you are ignorant of the concept of protected air space. The planet’s only Superpower had comprehensive protected air space before, during and after the “attack” on America. Military and law enforcement of this great land long adopted the motto of “shoot first, ask questions later” long before Bin Laden was a spec in his father’s testicles. Besides, who spends more on their military and the protection of their own country than the world’s Superpower?

Already, we are subjected to unnecessary liquid restrictions- you can’t even bring a tub of hummus onboard with you...pause for reaction. If you choose to believe that restricting liquids has saved your life, I invite you to watch a lighthearted episode of “Adam Ruins Everything” where they covered ‘security theatre’ designed to provide you, the average citizen, with little more than a false sense of security. And if you look at what constitutes a ‘potential terrorist’-it’s a pretty broad net covering how you wear your baseball cap all the way to facial hair grooming standards. Seems like legalized stereotyping, unless of course you’re a polished white male in corporate America.

But perhaps in the fight against mandatory vaccines- even the average white male may find himself in the trenches with us.

Will it be vaccines passports or vaccines with hardware implanted in our bodies? Will we eventually replace handheld passports for data stored in a fingerprint, retina or swab sample? Is that where we’re headed to already? Let’s keep things in perspective, shall we? Thousands of people died on September 11th. Millions more have died at the end of a gun- but the policy makers are very selective with what tragedies they will amplify and how they’ll pick and choose (based on their own agenda) when to introduce new bills or change laws. So even though innocent children die every single year in the greatest country on earth- purchased votes by the NRA (formerly the KKK) prevent amendments to the Second Amendment. Ain’t that something? An Amendment that can’t be amended. You’d think it was written by God and not men. Illusions of grandeur coupled with idolizing the forefathers of America is the exact opposite of being Christian, spiritual, a person of faith, etc. The is the same type of fandom associated with pre-adolescent girls and boy bands.

An inside job designed to illicit fear of a common enemy (and weapons of mass destruction) became justification for us giving away many of our personal freedoms (i.e. fingerprints scans, eye retina scans, mass surveillance by our smart phones, email providers, search engines, CCTV, etc.). Does this sound familiar? It’s happened before and millions were executed as a result. Hitler wanted complete control of his people- unwavering compliance and that’s exactly where we are headed if The Gates Foundation and the WHO have anything to say about it. China is already practicing this type of population control with their face-recognition software and social behavioural grading system that assigns citizens a credit score that impacts your ability to navigate everything in your life from career, to housing to who and how one travel. Is this what we want? Who benefits? Not you, not I.

There is growing evidence that COVID is a man-made (military controlled) virus. To many this may seem utterly ridiculous. I would invite you to research this information as discovered by numerous holistic doctors (who have been censored on Google but are searchable on Qwant, a reliable search engine free from the prying eyes of Google surveillance. If you’re wondering why the government would allow for something like a manufactured virus to be unleased on it’s on citizens let me help you. It begins with big pharma and ends with decreasing the human population.

As it stands today over 300,000 people have died- not from COVID but from underlying health issues. Like an episode of Black Mirror- doctors and health professionals are threatened if they don’t adhere to naming COVID as the cause of death. It doesn’t take a genius to observe that the overwhelming majority of people that contracted COVID recovered because they did not have underlying health issues. The Italian Parliament recently went viral for stating this. I’ll say it again, the COVID virus does not kill. Ask any self-respecting health professional/scientist that is not on the receiving end of grants issued by big pharma. Even the CDC has been corrupted, pick-up a copy of Marcia Angell’s book; The Truth About the Drug Companies: How They Deceive Us and What to Do About It. Marcia Angell was the first woman to serve as Editor-In-Chief at The New England Journal of Medicine, the most influential science journal in the world. She’s done her part to warn us of how drug companies collude not for the benefit of the public, but for their own gain. History will show unequivocally that the real tragedy was not COVID- but the mandatory vaccines that have polluted our bodies for years with unsafe levels of heavy metals, formaldehyde, MSG and more to render your well enough to stay alive and on medications until you die. Newer vaccines will also render you sterile. That is the pandemic we’re headed towards.

Big pharma is greater and more powerful than any government on the planet. And what’s more, they’ve purchased almost every single politician there is to be purchased. In medicine, the first rule is ‘Do no harm’. In Aviation the first rule is ‘if we don’t know, we don’t go’. Thousands of people have had their lives permanently changed when their once healthy children were exposed to vaccines that left them autistic, some children have even died. Unless you can prove without a shadow of a doubt that vaccines are not harmful and toxic (which they have not proven) why do we agree to subject perfectly healthy, clean bodies to foreign matter? And no, vaccines did not eradicate polio- you can still catch that shit. The difference is more people have access to clean food and water today than ever before. As more and more countries develop, more of the planet’s population can practice better hygiene. Vaccines have cured nothing. Measles, malaria, hepatitis are still around!

Fun fact: the US government actually owns more patents of the measles virus than anyone else. Something to chew on.

Are we going to roll over and pretend that the supposed benefits of a vaccine for a non-lethal virus outweighs the damage is can have to the nervous system and reproductive functions of millions of people? We’re already dying a slow death with pollution in the air, water, food and soil we’re consuming. A great portion of the population is already unable to conceive naturally- which is your body’s way of telling you your currently too sick to create new life. So, what do we do? We employee fertility specialists to implant us with embryos instead of addressing the foundational causes and habits for our body’s rejection of bringing new life to our sick planet.

The world’s population is nearing 8 billion- very few people have died during this pandemic relative to deaths associated to lung cancer, breast cancer, heart disease, medical drug overdoses, etc. It’s sad that we lost anyone. I live in Brooklyn, New York so I’m not removed from the collective loss we’re experiencing. Let’s also take a moment to step back and take a deep breath. This was never a reason to make us anxious, depressed and fearful of each other. This is how they separate and then conquer us. And it’s certainly not a reason to change our way of living and give away more personal freedoms (that were fought and paid for).

I’m calling on citizens of the world. Stand-up! We are many in numbers- they are few. Don’t let them violate you or anyone else in a way that is not humane.

One last interesting fact to research- the United States Supreme Court or Congress (depending on which article you come across) that vaccines are ‘unavoidably unsafe’. And the kicker? If you or a loved one are damaged from a vaccine you can’t sue the vaccine manufacturers. How’s that for democracy?! Look it up for yourselves, but not on Google.

Stay up!

Alkali Yogi

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