#when two neurodivergents date | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vatelixx · 2 months ago

Text

On the concept of ‘want’, (part 1):

Spencer Reid x afab!BAU!reader (written with early-ish seasons Spencer in mind)

part two here.

SMUT!! (and fluff, and aftercare because im not a total hedonist), allusions to both Spencer and Reader being switches (but he’s mostly just down bad), autistic Spencer (the way it should be), mean reader (to everyone but him), reader has a very very high IQ when it comes to everything but a pretty genius— Spencer just wants that cookie so fucking bad.

Warnings: sub spencer (but also not entirely; he talks about human anatomy as he destroys her), maaaaaybe slight corruption kink (what? who wrote that there???), mentions of prior bullying and insecurity, first time (for Spencer, yess devirgin that hot nerd!!— do you think the BAU will get him a cake after?), brief mentions of past hypersexuality for reader, kinda rlly domestic. Some undertones of degradation but predominantly praise. Begging, crying (pussy so good he cried), etc etc

w.c: 5k (I feed)

a/n: Spencer’s first time getting fucked, my first time writing smut (we’re both going through it here). I’ve been watching too much Criminal Minds recently, so i’ve reverted back to my tumblr roots (im home i’m home). This is a new acc so like…. hi!!!

────────────

Right person, right time. It’s a concept that Spencer Reid is more than aware of. Define luck, at surface level, it’s a made-up hypothesis, idealistic, fantastical. Conjured up to aid the desperate (or the delusional). It’s something he refused to humour, obstinate to the notion, well, that was until you came spitballing into his life, sharp features, sharper tongue. You could cut with your words alone, a weapon to the BAU, jagged and fast-thinking, and so entirely unattainable. Rorschach tests, and an endless sea of profilers, it doesn’t matter— he’s not sure anyone is ever capable of truly pinpointing you.

Rocky start— after you became a permanent member to the team, it took months to coerce you into dropping your guard. A year and 14 days, to be exact.

But, it was possible. Hardened words and blunt comments shifted into something more with time. A gravitational pull, perhaps, that led to evolution— you, softer with him, more tender than you’ve ever showcased before.

Maybe it was that night when he told you about highschool, about what they did to him, boys like him, who were too intellectual for their own good. Different, in every sense of the word. Bullying at such a young, impressionable age can have prominent effects, chronic stress inflicted on an underdeveloped brain, they tied him to goal posts, stripped him naked, endless torment that he still carries with him now. Maybe that’s why you lowered your defenses. Put down the sword.

And sure, he never expected anything, nor asked for anything. He was definite that he wouldn’t get to experience cliche-dating. Longing glances and anticipated moments. It’s not like he was ever the most appealing candidate, too nervous, too neurodivergent. It’s hard to grow out of the mentality that no, everyone isn’t making fun of you, not when it consumed the entirety of his adolescence. That you can walk into a room, and not be seen, targeted, as an outcast. He’s just different. But he’s also human, and the chemicals in his brain do make him want.

You apparently. Because, you looked at him softly once, and he was done. Ruined. Gone for good. Or, in Morgan’s personal opinion, whipped.

And illogically, you wanted him too. That wasn’t ever part of the equation.

But theres a pattern now— dates every weekend. Movies, cafes, museums, an endless onslaught of you. Because somehow, thanks to luck, you reciprocated. He’ll never understand why, you’re too beautiful (it’s a hazard), but he tries. He tries.

──────────────────

December. A haze of christmas markets and blanketing coldness. You kiss him outside and he thinks he might be dying. You make him burn cold. He’s a logical person, so obviously he’s aware that he’s only freezing because your hands are shoved in his pockets, a desperate bid to seek warmth, but regardless, it’s more than he ever expected.

He laughs against your lips, fingers gripping the front of your coat as he draws you backwards so that you’re resting against a wall. “Mm..” he hums, “You should kiss me more often.”

Everyone knows. The entire team is aware of this, an unspoken agreement that your lingering moments and aimless touching are not platonic in the slightest. You work with profilers, secrets are never quite effective. Everyone knows, but it’s taboo, something that needs to be left undisturbed. Do they expect you to break him? Does he? Maybe, maybe it would be worth it— to hurt for you, because it’s always been you. He’ll take anything, he’s not greedy. He’ll live off scraps if he has to, anything to satiate this want that burns solely for you.

“Actually.. you should just always be kissing me,” he suggests, tone soft, “Every day of the week. All the time. And—“ he laughs, “You should also stop stealing body warmth. It’s rude. Hypothermia usually occurs when body temperature dips to around 95F, oh oh but there are so many factors to consider—“

“Is this you trying to imply you’re cold?” you ask.

“Perhaps. Or maybe i’m implying you should be working harder to warm me up.”

You’ve grown soft, he thinks. He shouldn’t be allowed to get away with this level of affection. But its okay, you justify, mostly because it’s him. Spencer, and his pretty smile, and strange habits (sitting cross legged on tables, drinking coffee with excessive sugar, endless facts and a plethora of soft yearning glances at you when you’re interrogating— as if you’re not tearing an unsub to pieces). It’s terrifying, constant eggshells, because you can’t hurt him. Not like the others, distant fragments of your past.

You laugh in response to his comment, admiring the sight of him: flushed, with swollen lips and dilated eyes. He deserves to be like this, so thoroughly assured that despite all odds, you’re invested. All cards on the table. “You have a lot of requests, boy genius.”

He smiles boyishly. You’re hard lines, sure, a blade that can draw blood, but somehow, somehow, he’s always left unscathed. “Alright,” he answers, “You want requests? Here’s one, stay the night. Come over, stay over, i’ll cook breakfast and try not to burn it— and, and you can have the good side of the bed.”

“Spence,” you mutter, because of course there’s an underlying intention to ‘staying over’ and you're trying to be good here. To not let this fall into your past mistakes of sex and inevitable self-inflicted disgust. A cyclical cycle that clings to your skin. Everything is so new to him, the intimacy, the affection, and it’s nice being able to witness it— to see his reactions to innocuous touches, always disbelieving that he’s capable of this.

Fresh-eyes, so untainted to the sharpness of modern ‘love’.

You cup his face, god, under the dim shadows of the streetlight he’s beautiful. It’s a little alarming to be honest. More so disheartening really, because despite how much you remind him, he never believes you— obstinately refusing your compliments, as if you’d ever mock him. No, he’s different. He’s tender and disarming, and sometimes it feels unholy to touch him with calloused hands.

But, to Spencer, there is nothing unholy to this; the second you touch him, the entire universe crashes down into a singular moment.

“Just stay the night,” he reaffirms. It’s taken him over a month to get to this point, to be able to voice his wants, to comprehend his wants. Now, his thumb traces its way down the side of your face, tangible, real. “And tomorrow morning, there’ll be coffee and pancakes and—“ he laughs, “And there won’t be any regrets. I promise.”

You’re looking at him, wide-eyed and slightly disbelieving (because he’s somehow stumbled through the minefield of you without any consequences). He leans forward, his forehead resting against yours. “Don’t make me beg. I will beg.”

──────────────────

To confirm, he makes you incautious, irrational, willing to blatantly disregard any sort of control. Of course you end up at his apartment; the moment he mentioned begging, you were already half-way down the street.

Spencer’s place is… well, it’s everything you’d expect of him. Scattered novels adorning the floor, a mess of untidy thoughts, neglected papers on science, endless open textbooks left half-abandoned for other pursuits. It’s so him, clean but discombobulated.

He wants to apologize, make excuses for the lack of order, he probably should. He doesn’t do that though. He only crosses the room, stopping when he’s standing right in front of you, just gazing down. He has no idea what’s to come— for once, there are no patterns, no statistics he can reference.

So, he reaches for you, fingers tugging at the edges of your jacket. “Arms. Up,” he instructs and god, it’s a stupid order, but you follow it without any protest. He folds it over the couch, abandoned. Putting it back on alludes to leaving, and he’s hopeless enough to never want you to leave.

His hands then gravitate back to you and he starts to tug aimlessly at the material of your shirt. It’s been raining, and the fabric is soaked. “Hm,” he hums, “Off. Take it off.”

You laugh at that. Straight to the point. You don’t follow his orders, because one was certainly enough, and you’ve never been the type to obey blindly. Instead, you grip his waist, drive him back towards the nearest surface. An end table, some books go clattering, light damage, they’ll survive. His response is a gasp, a hitch of the breath.

“I was promised the good side of the bed, breakfast, pancakes. But sex? Hm, did you invite me over just to get in my pants? I’m wounded, Reid.” you mutter, pressing a series of soft kisses along the curvature of his jaw.

“No! No,” he retorts, breathless, “I was going to get you some comfortable clothes to change into. Damp clothes breed bacteria. You made this dirty,” Adding, “And not in the way I was concerned about.” under his breath.

You roll your eyes, “Oh, here we go—“ sure, you have the experience he lacks, but you’ve been on your best behavior. Dirty? That’s an insult to the exhausting self-restraint you’ve upheld recently.

“Yes— i’m the dirty one here, clearly.” you scoff, “Just casually corrupting you,” You tug him away from the end-table because you don’t want him bruised in any way, shape or form (it’s actually distressing; when you’re working, you seem hellbent on making sure no one even thinks about laying a hand on him. Unsubs be damned.)

Ego-centric, completely independent, individualistic until he came along.

You push him back against the couch, watching as he stumbles, as he falls. For a minute he just lies there, looking up at you with hazy eyes— pupils dilated and lips parted on a half-pained gasp.

And it’s a sight to see, the brilliant prodigy, the young genius, his normally-composed features now twisted into something stricken. His hands tighten around the material of the couch and he lets out a sound that’s a cross between a whine and a groan.

“Oh—“ that’s just a clear-cut moan, “You can definitely definitely keep corrupting me, in fact I endorse it. Completely.”

“3 PHDS, 2 B.A’s and you’re currently asking me to corrupt you? I don’t know, Doctor Reid, that’s certainly very forward,” you say, moving to sit on his lap, aware that you really should entertain this spot more often, even if you’re at severe risk of deflating.

Deflating. God. When did it come to this?

He laughs, “You’re the only person in this entire world that makes me act without a single coherent thought,” IQ abolished. “So yeah,” he murmurs, fingers tracing mindless patterns across the exposed strip of skin above your waistline. “Defini-definitively corrupt me.”

It’s taken so much to get to this point. So much to unpack, to understand, from Spencer’s perspective. There’s a lifetime of bullying that he has to dismantle, and sometimes he still anticipates the punchline when you kiss him— the biting laughs, not entirely dissimilar to school, when someone would belittle him, fake being his friend just for entertainment value.

So, when you stumble into the bedroom, when you remove his shirt, he knows this is improvement. He’s fighting this internal battle, unsure on how he should act: coy or defiant. Both, really. He wants to cover himself up, to pretend like you don’t disarm him, to fight and fight until you make him bleed. Anything, he’ll take anything from you.

“You are so so pretty,” you mutter when he’s sprawled out across the bed. You’ve never been someone to resort to praise; sex had always been cold and clinical, something to relieve stress, to undermine the burden of work, and the endless weight of sanguinary. But now? If he is the eye of the storm, then you’ll happily commit to the chaos of this.

“Careful, you’ll make me inherit a disorder here.” he mutters. Narcism— he’s the least likely to ever develop such symptoms. “Or cry. I could cry, it’s a potential. Maybe break-down?”

“Or,” he adds, his hands tracing up towards your shoulder blades. “All of the above. The trifecta of issues. It’s very likely.”

He rolls over on top, you’re down to just your lingerie now, pretty lace contrasting against your skin. Removing your clothes had been a whole ordeal, he’s fairly certain he almost died; you’re the epitome of beautiful, and he’s not sure how he ended up with everything when he was so resolute, silently accepting, he would always obtain nothing.

“I want to kiss you, but I don’t know, I feel like my body has lost the ability to function at the moment.” he breathes out.

“You should definitely kiss me,” you confirm, posing it as a choice, one that he has any say over— when in reality, youre already tugging him closer. Lips meeting lips. It’s not sane how the world fades into a nebulous haze the moment your mouths connect; time remains constant, logistically, nothing has changed. But it’s just so much that for a moment you doubt the concept of existence, doubt everything but him.

Genius falling for genius. Only you could laugh when he traces molecules into your skin. Spelling out words with elements: Livermorium, Uranium. LV U, it might not be an exact replica of the three worded phrase, but it certainly gets the point across.

“Spence—“ you bite into his lip, tugging the soft tissue between your teeth.

He groans, whimpers, pulls you closer, eliminating every infinitesimal distance between, slotting his hips against yours. He draws away from your mouth, lips leaving a trail of kisses down your neck as he reaches for your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours and pinning it against the bed. His free one is now wandering, slipping beneath your panties to touch.

“Do you know how much I studied about human anatomy after you first kissed me?”

“Weeks.” he answers when you respond with a muffled groan. Your hands are on his back now, tracing the journey of his spine. He’s in over his head, but there’s so much want, so much he wants to do but never thought he would be capable of. And oh, when he begins to draw circles against your clit, slow experimental halos, those soft touches of yours evolve into grasping, gripping. By the time he’s got a finger slotted inside, he’s fairly certain he’s being scratched. Nail indents and faint white lines, souvenirs.

“I know about every erogenous zone the human body possesses, every single one.” He says, because whilst he might lack in physical experience, he has enough intellect to memorize placement, biology. Plus, he’s a fast learner. His finger bends, and both of you moan.

“Spence— fuck, feels good.” you gasp, tangled hands clutching tighter, tighter again until your knuckles are white and you’re trembling.

The human body is something of a fascination to him; the way it reacts, how each nerve and ligament can respond to even the most tentative of touches. But you aren’t every human, you are you, and he has an insatiable desire to discover and catalog every single response your body gives.

He adds another finger, slowly, eyes fixed on your face, gauging the reaction. When he curls both digits, a sharp exhale is your response. “I’m convinced I’ve discovered new anatomy facts in the last few months, just because of you.”

Maybe it’s not fair that he’s so good. First times are supposed to be fumbling and awkward, a mess of hormones and inexperience. To say you haven’t been touched like this before is a severe understatement. The meaningless sex, the onslaught of bodies doesn’t measure up to him, the way he’s so focused on how you respond, on what your body enjoys— it would be endearing (and it is!), but you're currently too preoccupied to voice such a notion.

“Doing so good, holy shit—“ you mutter, blissed out beyond comprehension. You're making art on his back, only vaguely aware of the pain. Though when you realize you’ve scarred his skin, you're drawing away, moving to tangle your hand in his hair instead. But Spencer doesn’t even care, doesn’t even register the inflictions; he likes the physical marks you leave behind, a tangible remnant of all you do to him.

And sure, he’d laugh, usually, at your responses. But it’s hard to laugh, when his own ability to form any coherent sound has been completely destroyed. He’s a mess, his breathing shaky, and his brain is a constant buzz of fragmented musings consisting of you, you, you.

He draws his fingers out, earning a discernible groan, maybe a fuck you (which he does intend to do). But right now, he’s already slotting his face between your thighs, removing those soaked, ruined, panties of yours. He doesn’t have a single thing to compare it to. But he already knows this is his favorite place to be, and he’s fairly certain he’ll be spending most nights between your thighs, learning and memorizing every reaction and noise, each movement, and the ways to repeat them.

He runs his tongue along your clit, savoring just how wet you are, a mess that he can bury his face into. You’re looking down at him with something akin to shock now, and he can only laugh, blow air against your clit, then drag his tongue back over the sensitive bud, drawing it into his mouth to suck.

His movements are tentative at first, unpractised, but soon gaining confidence. He doesnt need to do this, you're aware— you could take him now. And yet, hes here, between your thighs for no reason other than want. Your reaction is visceral, because it’s always been about efficiency in the past, quick touches to get you there before the other person can derive their own pleasure from the act.

He’s not like that. God, hes not like that at all.

“Oh,” is all you can say, gripping his hair down to the root, instructing each movement until he gains incentive, finding repeat patterns that your body reacts to. Then, you can only arch and moan, noises filtered out into the air. He’s back to opening you up now, two deft fingers pressed inside, working diligently to tear you apart.

“Oh? That’s all you have to say to me? Oh?” he retorts.

“Shut up,” you huff, “Put that mouth of yours to work.”

“Mhm— I plan to. God, you’re so perfect.” he mutters, voice distorted, muffled. “That’s it—“ he fights the urge to explain exactly what’s occurring in your body every time his fingers abuse that spot. Instead, he keeps his mouth busy.

He’s certain he’s memorized most areas of your body from years of pining, and that’s what brings him an unrepentant sense of satisfaction. Because he was memorizing your body, you, long before he even got the chance to touch or taste you.

“Wanna stay here,” he says, and he’s being petulant now, because there’s something so good about being reduced to movements. To follow the pattern, to take care of your body, mindless to anything else but you. Pussy-drunk, to put it less eloquently.

“Shit,” you buck up against his mouth, watching as he buries his face entirely into you, as he replaces his fingers with his tongue, nose bumping bumping your clit, consuming his senses entirely.

“Use my face, yeah. ‘M all yours anyway.”

“Fuck, fuck fuck— Spence. Gonna cum—“

When you fall apart, inevitable, he doesn’t stop— not until you’re boneless and spent beneath him. Back arching, stars burning through closed eyes. Pretty constellations that have you blissed out beyond belief. The pleasure is white-hot, feverish in intensity.

And then he’s moving, shifting his body back over you. He’s all soft touches and languid kisses against your mouth, not bothering to break contact as he settles himself fully over you, the weight of his hips pressing into yours. He’s hard, dick pushing up against his boxers, his sexual libido had always been low until you came into his life. Now, his wants seem to fight for release constantly.

“My turn, I believe.” he grins, pressing a kiss to your jaw, “Not that you have to, of course. It’s not an obligation, uh— more so a beg?”

“Of course it’s an obligation,” he goes to protest, to say you don’t owe him anything, so you sigh. “A thankyou, maybe?”

Fumbling hands, still shaky from pleasure, undo buttons. Unclasping his belt, removing loose fabric until he's bare before you. There’s something nervous to his gaze, something unspoken, lingering in the air. “Hey, hey. I’ve got you, yeah? You’re okay,” you promise, before your eyes shamelessly look down. He’s straining, pre-cum lingering at his tip, dick pressed up against his stomach now. “Fuck, okay— yeah. Good. Great even.” first time you've ever stumbled over a sentence in your life.

There’s so much to be concerned about. The fact he’s naked, that you could destroy everything with a few serrated words, years and years of rebuilding, reconstructing. But you don’t— and he can’t help but laugh nervously. “Glad to be up to your standards. I’d uh, hate to disappoint.”

“Always the over-achiever,” you respond, shifting away from him— there’s amusement to your expression when he groans, pitifully, when he rolls onto his back, draping an arm over his face.

Predictable. Condoms in his bedside table. At least he's prepared. You open the wrapper with your teeth, discarding it somewhere amongst the tangle of limbs and sheets, too hellbent on finding him again.

Oh, in this position, you have full, unrestricted view of his body. Endless planes of skin, begging to be marked, sentenced indefinitely to your touch. By the time you straddle his hips, hes a flushed mess beneath you. “I— um, you look really really pretty right now.” he stumbles, idiot.

His dilated eyes take you in. Every contour and curve, the way your hair hangs over your face, eyes up eyes up eyes up. He fails when you run your hand across his dick, thumb brushing against the tip. By the time you’ve slipped the condom over him, hes gone. Bucking and moaning, and so so much better than his hand could ever be.

He wants to be inside of you, but it’s hard to think right now, let alone vocalize the words. I want, he thinks, I want everything, with you.

Your name is on his tongue, muttered and repeated, a reverent prayer of sorts. He needs to gain back his control here, to return to equal footing.

“Yeah—“ he breathes out, “So much of an overachiever, considering I had you making all of those noises—“ his words falter, die out, when you sink down. When you take him. Wrapped around, tight. Warm heat that sets alight every nerve in his overstimulated body. He has half the mind to apologize for his comment because you’re about to ruin him, he knows.

“I thought you wanted me to corrupt you, hm?” you retort. The pace is slow, mostly for his own sanity. Though, the feel of him, the way he slots into you, warm skin pressed against warm skin is intoxicating, and it’s a battle to keep your composure. To not just fall apart under the weight of him.

“What’s that, pretty boy? Struggling? Because you were so egotistical a few seconds ago? Where’s all that ego gone? Straight between your legs, I think.”

A whimper. It’s a whimper, a pained thing ripped straight from his throat. He’s making indiscernible noises now, messy sounds pooling from his swollen lips. The praise, the strained undertones of degradation? It’s too much. But god does he love you for it, because that’s you through and through. Sharp, and brittle to everyone but him, he wants to look, he does, albeit he has to turn his head to the side, bury half of his face in a pillow because he’s gone. At this point, he can only take it.

“I— um, mhm. Yeah,” he slurs. He’s almost incoherent at this point; he’s been reduced to nothing, just a mass of skin, bone, and flesh at your disposal, to own and use and he can’t find it in himself to feel humiliated about it, not when it’s you.

“Can’t— um, I was wrong, you’re— oh god,” the sounds of your body hitting his, back arching as your pace picks up. “Oh, ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry —baby, can’t, can’t take it. That’s…”

It’s a lot for his first time, that’s for certain.

“Yes, you you can. I know you can, Spence.” you mutter, interlocking your fingers, letting them hang near your hips. “You feel so good— so so fucking good. Look at you, so brain dead for me. Taking it all so well, love.”

Love?— oh he wants to be buried with that one. He’s a mindless disaster, impenetrably devoted to you alone.

He doesn’t even know how he’s saying words at this point, it’s as if his brain-to-mouth connection has been severed by your very presence itself. It’s not possible to form a coherent thought when you’re riding him like this, taking him so deep that he’s seeing stars. There’s tears pooling in his eyes, he looks pretty when he cries. Especially when it’s derived from pleasure, when he can let go of the burdens, everything he’s endured, when it’s just sensation. Nothing more, no more thoughts.

There’s safety here, an element of home, home home bliss, that has him keening. He wants to stay buried here forever, where nothing can ever hurt him again. When it’s just you, and your pretty words, and your exploitative power to destroy him. You never do, anyway. Even when you could, you restrain.

“Can’t, ’m gonna…, Please, please, don’t stop.” he whines, “Pleasepleaseplease— oh, can’t— I can’t.”

He grips you tight, rolls you over, mostly so he can feel you closer. The sight of you riding him was excruciating, but this is worse because now there’s no gap separating you. Now, he can bury his face into the crook of your neck, burn himself in the warmth of your touch.

“Spence..” you mutter.

“I know. I know—“ hes ruined, sloppy thrusts, whimpers catching against the stifling air. “Feels s’good.”

He doesn’t know what to do, how to breathe, so he just runs his thumb over your clit, watching your prominent reaction, watching as you gasp, moan— oh, and then you’re clenching around him, tightening the pleasure, and yesyesyes.

You’re too gone, moving still, and he can only cant his hips forwards, buck and squirm until he’s sobbing under the weight of your ministrations, releasing so hard that he can barely remember his name, no cognitive function, in the haze of his orgasm.

“There’s my boy— so pretty for me.” he can vaguely hear you saying, and if you’re talking him through it, he can only hear snippets of praise now anyway.

“Mhm— mhm. Yours, yeah.” he mumbles, body sinking against the sheets, a few little whimpers escaping his lips as you milk the rest of his pleasure from him.

Tangled limbs and sweat-stained skin. “You okay?” you ask in the aftermath.

“So okay,” he agrees, shifting closer, back pressed against your torso— sue him for being little spoon.

──────────────────

The next morning, you wake to an absence of Spencer. It’s unsettling, to say the least. So, you're quick to fumble over the buttons of one of his shirts, fabric creased, matching the tousled nature of your hair, disheveled, remnants of the ruination of last night.

For a moment, you consider that he might’ve left — but there he is, in the kitchen, attempting to make breakfast.

“Hey,” you mutter, leaning against the counter to watch.

Scratches adorn his back, indent marks from your nails, crescent reminders, stain his waist, and he’s content to wear them. If anything, he can’t wait to add to the budding collection.

Pancakes. The good side of the bed. Coffee. All of his promises from last night are being thoroughly met, even if he’s burning the food, and shit, he didn’t realize the coffee would be finished so soon. For all his calculations, he’s fairly off-center today.

And then, you come padding across his kitchen, embellished in only his shirt, unbuttoned near the top to expose your collarbone, and he’s fairly certain the last remainders of his IQ disappear.

“Hi! Hi,” he says, wide-eyed, “Um, making.. breakfast. You look, wow yeah.”

Breakfast lays forgotten.

#spencer reid #sub spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #he deserves this #let the man fuck!!!!!

1K notes · View notes

arieswritez · 7 months ago

Text

puppy love

puppy love | yandere!mark grayson x afab!reader | MULTI-CHAP: 3

chapter 2

cw; DARK CONTENT!!! MDNI!!! reader is neurodivergent, ableism, growing up is messy & adults suck, angst, niceguy™/slight incel mark, childhood friend/bully!mark, mark gets his powers sooner, teeny tiny implications of pseudo incest (blink and you'll miss it), violent rape, threats of violence, & canon typical violence, stalking, implied murder, gender & body dysphoria, mentions/implications of disordered eating, mark teases reader about their body once, overall asshole mark, implied grooming (mark handles it but he's a lil bitch about it later), so, victim blaming, misogyny, the inexplicable horrors of being afab, objectification, sexualization

about; you don't know how long i could stare into your picture and wish that it was me i guess it's different 'cause you love him but i've got an interactive sick and twisted imagination and that's gotta count for something - not allowed (tv girl)

you'd found a boy that made your heart go thump thump, thump. and you knew very well how the rest of that story usually went.

your love was encompassing. asphyxiating and obsessive. and in the very first moment the two of you interacted, you knew, this could be it.

you didn't blame yourself.

you couldn't blame yourself.

blame the love stories.

the disney movies with the princes and the magic mirrors. breaking curses with true love's kiss. much like the fabricated sugary fantasies, your potential life with him unfolded before your eyes.

he could be the one.

true love's forever kiss.

you imagined it all.

movie theater dates, awkward parental meetings, proposals, a home, kids, pets. arguments. therapy, even. pushing through at the end. death. rebirth. trying it all over again in the next life.

all you had to do was get him to stick around.

you had to make him understand that you could be his true love kiss, too.

you had to be perfect.

. . there was just one miniscule problem.

the boy so happened be on the same baseball team as mark.

it's the way the two of you had met.

despite the fact that you were supposed to be there for mark: your eyes were . . elsewhere. your eyes - then your focus - had gravitated towards him even before the first pitch. and you found yourself blushing as you watched him stretch: holding his baseball bat over his head.

you'd made it your only goal to attempt to extract as much information about it from mark as discretely as you could. and frankly, you should've known mark would be able to read you like the back of his hand.

because he found out what you were trying to do embarrassingly quickly.

and he was just as quick to shut it down.

you hadn't noticed the boy before. not really. but since the baseball game, he seemed to be everywhere. and you were excited to find that he was the new addition to mark's friend group. you knew this because you saw him and mark sitting together during lunch.

which meant they were at least acquaintances.

so imagine your shock when you came to find out. . mark didn't like him.

everything about him seemed to rub mark the wrong way. mark would clam up the moment you mentioned your boy. he'd change the subject. or his mood would just straight up sour. he'd go quiet and avoidant. and when you kept pushing, he finally snapped.

your boy was stupid.

your boy was shallow.

"don't say i didn't warn you." mark would mumble.

but warning you wasn’t enough.

your boy barely looked at you.

and you weren't sure if it was in part because of the way you acted. . the way you looked. maybe he was so out of your league that he'd completely removed you from his radar.

you'd watch him from across hallways and excitement would swell in your chest when you found that you'd be walking in opposite directions.

you'd see him coming.

he'd see you.

time would slow as you walked past him.

your heart rate would pick up.

but his eyes would remain forward and time would pick back up again as soon as you were past each other.

all it'd leave you with was the bitter taste of rejection in your mouth and a deep ache of anxiety bubbling in your stomach.

the only thing that sobered you up were the dizzying possibilities.

he hadn't seen you. he hadn't noticed the effort you'd put in.

but eventually, he would.

you don't know what it was that grabbed his attention.

mark was vehemently against introducing you two.

you were at a loss until you realized that you'd just have to try harder.

whenever mark left for the bathroom, you'd made it a mission to swipe mark's phone during study sessions. you'd go through his socials and send yourself screenshots of both his follower count and who he was following.

it was a long tedious progress but eventually, you'd found your boy's account.

thankfully, it was public. which meant the the decoy accounts you'd made to snoop just in case he was private turned out to be a waste of time.

you looked through his followers and did your homework on anyone he showed a particular interest in. you'd even made a list of the usernames of the people who’s posts he interacted with the most.

and soon you became a master of disguise.

you studied them top to bottom.

those that went to the same school were far easier to emulate.

you copied their mannerisms, the way they styled their hair, you changed the cadence of your voice, the way you rolled your r’s. your clothing grew tighter and your slouch was now an exaggerated upbeat gallop as you chased after the object your new affection, hoping one day he'd notice.

. . and the exact moment he looked into your eyes and did a double take. . you did one, too.

it was completely out of surprise before you caught yourself and continued to saunter away from him with butterflies in your stomach: flapping their wings so violently it felt like you'd be swept away.

his attention was the most excitement you'd felt. . in a long time.

and you knew you'd do anything to retain it.

it was a sickly sweet feeling: syrupy, sticky. clogging your vascular system to the point your head swelled. the lack of oxygen only heightened your fantasies.

the attention was addictive and so, so good you found yourself chasing that high all the time. going to extreme lengths to get his attention. even if they’d end up embarrassing you after.

you never allowed yourself to wallow in the feeling of dread that settled in your stomach when you did everything in your power to get his attention, though.

specially whenever it made a smile stretch across his face.

whatever you did faded into the background.

it was all worth it in the end.

something was wrong with mark.

and he needed to get to the root of the problem fast.

he was looking at you. . differently.

he talked to his dad.

nolan had said something about the changing moods having to do with his powers. how being intense and passionate was just in his blood.

he talked to his mom about it. albeit in a more discrete way. he'd never be able to live it down if she'd found out you were making him behave a certain way.

she'd just chalked it up to it being puberty.

mark didn't know who to believe.

he just wanted to stop thinking about you.

his nerves were shot to shit whenever you were near.

senses heightened: you were a fog blanketing his brain until your voice carried with it a technicolor vision.

he could smell you coming like a damn blood hound.

he could hear your pulse while sitting next to you.

something was wrong with mark.

he knew it when his teeth ached when you'd stretched your neck: raised your arms over your head and let out a little sound of pain and discomfort.

something was wrong with mark.

when the day's turned warm and wet. . and your clothing became more revealing.

he could see more of you.

freckles and moles, blemishes and scars, he hadn't noticed before.

he'd follow sweat drops rolling down your skin.

smooth. soft.

he'd held you, once.

when was the last time?

something was wrong with mark.

he'd lay awake at night staring up at the ceiling.

thinking about how you'd looked while you concentrated on a book. while you looked down at your phone. while you listened to music: smiling when a song you liked came on.

your little humming. . but not singing.

never singing.

mark noticed you'd stopped singing in front of him when he started to make fun of you for it.

that, too, was how mark knew something was wrong with him.

the way your moods would shift like tides under a crescent moon whenever he'd said something excited him. he felt pleasure - a violent zap of electricity shooting up and down his spice - watching your eyes light up or darken when he'd say something to you.

about you.

i like your hair today.

light.

you talk so goddamn much.

dark.

i missed you.

light.

your stories take fucking forever.

dark.

something was wrong with him when he found his own mood depended on fantasizing on how he'd make you feel that day.

if he was in a bad mood, seeing you in one, too, was a sure-fire way to make his day a whole lot better.

something was wrong with mark.

when he'd have to smother the sounds he made while imagining you -

something was wrong with him. . when red, hot anger consumed him when one of his friends made a smart quip about your body.

when he couldn't just laugh it off anymore.

something was wrong with mark.

. . or so he thought.

because he'd later find out. .

. . no.

something was wrong with you.

all of a sudden: mark was the one double texting.

triple texting.

mark was the one asking if he could hang out. . and when the fuck did he ever need permission?

mark was the one seeking you out.

something was wrong with you.

and he needed to get to root of the problem.

he picked his brain apart in an attempt to figure out what it was. you couldn't be under any stress. you looked fine. better than fine.

you looked happy.

fucking elated.

to the point where mark couldn't affect your moods anymore.

mark wanted to know what the fuck you were so happy about.

why the fuck you were so happy when he was falling apart at the seams. when his world was crashing down.

and there you were, completely fucking oblivious.

mark had always been curious.

and so, he went to see you.

the two of you were in your room.

you'd excused yourself to go to the bathroom.

and mark started looking.

you were predictable.

he knew where you kept your journal. despite how many times he'd found it and read it aloud - holding it above his head whenever you tried to snatch it away - he'd always managed to figure out your next hiding place.

it was easier that way.

he pretended he didn't know where it was.

you pretended to have some privacy.

he pretended not to know every single, minute, insignificant detail of your life.

of your thoughts.

thank fuck you were still so naive.

thank fuck for dairies.

he'd found it in a box under your bed.

and after flipping to the page with the freshest set of ink. . he'd found out what your problem was.

you'd found a boy who'd made your heart go

thump.

477 notes · View notes

megapocalypse · 4 months ago

Text

"Oh Binghe doesn't need to be in a relationship he needs to be in therapy" THE WEIRD LITTLESPACE MANBABY × MILF ROLEPLAY IS THE THERAPY !!!

None of you understand, you don't get it: A normal therapist can't fix them because they're fucking insane.

Like SQQ isn't a normal guy who is forced to date an insane guy, he's an insane guy who thinks he's normal dating another insane guy.

Could you imagine SQQ actually going to therapy?

"Oh I'm not grieving for LBH"

"You called out his name multiple times, you haven't eaten or slept, you picked up all the pieces of his broken sword and made a grave-"

"Nonono you don't understand I'm not grieving, I just lost my appetite and I've been bored lately so-"

It's like when you find someone else who's also neurodivergent and has the same hyperfixations as you, you can both telepathically communicate via autistic swag and the spiderman pointing meme. Like the pieces just fit.

Bingqiu are two cringefail losers who fell in love with each other because they're cringefail soulmates. Their cringefail is what binds them together 💕

The teacher/student boymommy roleplay they're doing in public in front of everyone including the sect leader is just their deranged way of therapeutically working through their issues together. SQQ is so repressed he twists himself into a pretzel and shrivels like a prune and LBH is a cringebabypuppyboy yandere chuuni with abandonment issues.

Falling into the routine of milf roleplay is what helps them communicate their issues together; making a long extrapolated monologue over how he'd never abort Binghe is how SQQ is able to communicate that he loves him and accepts his feelings.

If you can't see the boyfailure then idk what to tell you 🙄

#svsss #bingqiu #luo binghe #shen qingqiu #text post #meta #???#im tagging this so everyone can suffer #this is what happens when im sleep deprived #meta killed my grandma okay

267 notes · View notes

glassballdinosaurs · 7 months ago

Text

She’s literally not a victim but go off I guess. She’s done the same thing to her previous ex.

Actually, I HAVE been a victim of abuse. When I watched Shubble’s video, I had a REALLY bad gut feeling. While trauma affects people differently, there are common ways trauma manifests. Shubble in no way comes off as a victim. She sounds vindictive and all her fidgeting doesn’t read as anxious but rather insincerity of her statements.

Wilbur made a statement, not an apology. He was genuinely shocked. He signed a record contract iirc so he legally can’t speak on the subject. It’s evident he was told to make some sort of statement to minimize damage. But considering how blown out of proportion this has become, even if he WERE to speak about his perspective, the internet has already played judge, jury, and executioner. A lot of his friends haven’t unfollowed him. Niki was a victim prior to Wilbur so she’s likely second-guessing every interaction between herself and Wil because Shubble has thrown doubt on Wilbur’s character. Minx is a liar and an alcoholic as far as I know. I don’t watch her or Niki’s content so I don’t really know enough about them to accurately judge them. I’m just not going to. I feel far more empathy for Niki than Shubble though.

Wilbur isn’t part of my identity. I’ve personally been falsely accused of being abusive, by my own abuser no less, and because she was persuasive people believed her over me. Thankfully, I’m not famous enough for it to have wrecked my life. But seeing how blindly devoted people are to Shubble and how they see her as someone who can do no harm and convict Wilbur on the flimsy evidence that is word of mouth makes me all the more dubious of Shubble and her followers.

Shubble profited heavily on these allegations. If she genuinely cared, she should have told her followers specific signs to avoid in relationships to not fall victim to abusive people. But no. Money and clout are more valuable than morals. She’s 30 years old and Wilbur’s 27 and this should have been a private conversation between the two of them rather than Shelby deciding to make false allegations.

Shubble and Wilbur seemed, from Shubble’s video anyway, to have had a bad relationship for BOTH of them. But a bad relationship isn’t inherently abusive. Shubble seems to conflate the two and equates Wilbur’s depression to him being a bad person. Shubble accused him of financial abuse without actually knowing what that IS.

I genuinely am worried about Wilbur because he’s been open about being depressed and anxious. I’m terrified that he’ll be doxxed and the death threats aimed at him and the people manifesting desires for him to join the 27 club sickens me to phrase it mildly. Why on Earth would I support Shubble or her followers upon seeing this behavior?

I’m not blindly following Wilbur. I don’t trust Shubble’s intentions. Her behavior is appalling. She actively liked posts about Wilbur killing himself. She blocks anyone who asks for clarification regarding her abuse or anything who doesn’t instantly believe her. Teenagers have literally died over this but she denies it happened. Her ‘evidence’ is lacking at best and completely false at worst. There’s no concrete evidence. False allegations can be believed once other people throw their weight in support of them. Shubble is a disgusting human being and her actions speak just that.

I could discuss my perspective in more detail but neither of us are going to change our or each other’s minds.

If you support Shubble/Shelby Grace unfollow and block me right now. She lied for clout and doesn’t give a fuck about the consequences.

I support Wilbur Soot and there’s nothing any of you morons can do to stop that

#wilbur soot #wilbur situation #wilbur support squad #look you can support Shubble #but if you genuinely think she’s a victim have you really scrutinized the situation?#have you considered all the perspectives? because I fucking have. #she doesn’t have evidence to go to court but who needs evidence when you have a following?#guess morals are optional #this whole debacle boils down to clout money and being a vindictive pos bc Wilbur wouldn’t marry her #I seriously questioned if I was in the wrong for doubting Shubble #but the more I dug into the situation for actual concrete evidence and her motivations #the less I believe her and I respect her even less #you can hate Wilbur all you want and if you wanna side with Shubble be my guest #but don’t claim that I haven’t considered all sides of the argument #I wish Shubble had never opened her fucking mouth about this on the internet and just had a goddamn conversation with Wil #she’s the elder of the two of them but she’s cute (🤮) and a foot shorter than him and society doesn’t believe women can be abusive #Wilbur isn’t an abuser #hell I’d date the guy and find out for myself rather then take some clout chaser at her word #I’m not angry with you specifically #I just think her false allegations make it harder for actual victims to be believed #it’s the Kwite situation all over again #except this time Shubble couldn’t handle a neurodivergent boyfriend but nope that’s evidently just Wilbur being abusive

81 notes · View notes

therealcocoshady · 3 months ago

Note

Could you make a one shot where Marshall x Reader have been dating for almost 2 years, they start talking about kids and the thought of reader pregnant is a big turn on for him.

Author’s Note : Thank you for your request 💕. I hope you enjoy this ! ⭐️

If you like my writing and want to support it, here’s my Ko-Fi (I’m also open for commission. It’s like a request but that way you’re 100% sure I see it fast & indulge you 😉 - rn I have 200+ asks in my Inbox. Also, by commissioning my work, you’re literally helping a struggling neurodivergent student get by !).

Baby talk

You were the first one to be surprised when you felt it. The desire to have kids. You had never been a kid person. You had always found these tiny humans to be terribly underwhelming. To be fair, you didn’t hate them. But you never really understood what all the fuss surrounding babies was. Puppies ? Yes. Kittens ? Absolutely. Human babies ? Meh. When you were a kid yourself, you didn’t show an interest in babies and, as far as you could remember, you had never really enjoyed playing with dolls. And growing up, you hadn’t shown more of an interest in the topic of motherhood. Older people had told you you’d change your mind and eventually come to want kids of your own but you doubted it. When you became an adult and got into serious relationships, you had that talk with your partners and you told them you didn’t want to have children. You enjoyed your free time, being able to sleep until noon if you wanted to, the possibility of spending money on silly things like an impromptu girls trip to Vegas or a new handbag instead of diapers and an overpriced daycare. In your mind, it was clear that you weren’t meant to be a mother. You did have a lot of love and admiration for parents around you, but you didn’t envy them. So you built a child free life that was absolutely wonderful. Sure, it hurt a bit when your previous partner ended up breaking up with you because he changed his mind about kids and you didn’t. But you understood his decision and knew it was the right thing to do, rather than forcing yourself to have kids when you did not have any actual desire for it. You didn’t want to force yourself to live a life that did not resemble you, taking the risk of one day resenting the children you never wanted to raise in the first place. It all worked out in the end : your ex went on to marry a woman who, from what you heard, was wonderful and have a kid with her, and you ended up meeting the love of your life.

Marshall was everything you hoped to find in a partner. He was kind, funny, thoughtful, knowledgeable on a lot of subjects and handsome. Yes, he was older than you, but he was definitely young at heart. If anything, you benefited from his experience in life. Also, him being older and having three grown-up children meant that he was « done with all of that », which was a relief. The feeling was mutual, his lack of desire for more kids having caused a couple of breakups for him as well. But just because the two of you decided not to have babies didn’t mean you didn’t have your hands full with them. Marshall was a loving uncle to his brother’s three kids and you were entering that stage of your life where all your friends were starting families. So whether it was a birthday party, a basketball game, a recital or a baby shower… you had your share of kid-related activities. You liked it though. More than you ever thought you would. Marshall being very family-oriented, he loved that you were involved with his family. Together, you built a perfect life. You had all the fun that came with being around kids, without the obligations. You were the fun aunt and uncle, who enjoyed spoiling other people’s kids rotten and playing with them, before happily handing them back to their parents and letting them handle the sugar crash and the noise caused by the toys you bought them. You thought you’d spend the rest of your life just like this, perfectly content, enjoying a peaceful existence with your boyfriend, with whom you would eventually grow old.

But then, without seeing it coming, you found yourself thinking about it. Wondering how you would look like with a baby bump. Pregnant ladies had always looked like aliens to you, but you started thinking you’d actually be cute, carrying a little baby. Marshall’s baby. A baby with the cutest nose, pouty lips and the most beautiful blue eyes. The thought of a baby that would be part you part Marshall had your heart melt. And you knew he’d be such a good baby daddy, too. Obviously, he had raised three amazing daughters he was very proud of, but he was also amazing with other people’s children. He was his nephews’ favorite person in the world and he was so great with your friends’ babies. So you found yourself thinking that, if you got accidentally pregnant, it wouldn’t be the worst thing on earth. Sure, it would be inconvenient, but maybe you’d keep it. Not that it would ever happen anyway, since you were more than diligent with birth control. Then, it turned into thinking about what your life would actually look like with a little one. And you figured that, what you would have found dreadful years ago, maybe wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe you’d crush it as a soccer mom. Maybe there was actually something beautiful in having kids with someone you love, teaching them stuff and watching them grow up.

Then, one day, it hit you like a ton of bricks. You actually wanted to have kids. With Marshall. You were at the store, doing your weekly shopping. How you ended up in the baby aisle, you weren’t sure. But you found yourself mesmerized by the tiny items of clothing. Eventually, you came to your senses and mentally slapped yourself. You were with a man in his fifties, who already had his kids and did not want more. Now was not the time to change your mind. As if to imprint the thought in your brain, you went and stocked on condoms, buying a fuckton of them. The cashier even threw you a weird glance. You probably looked like you were doing a comparative study, getting a bit of everything from ribbed ones to flavored ones. Marshall chuckled when he saw them in the bag.

That’s a lot of condoms, he chortled.

Yeah, there was some kind of sale, you lied.

He shrugged it off and promised to put them to good use. You knew he would make good on his word and figured you just needed to have that silly idea banged out of your system. Except that it didn’t work. You went a few months without talking to him about it. But the more time went on, the more you realized you really wanted a baby with this man. You still liked the idea of having a flexible schedule and 9 hours of sleep a night. But you didn’t love it as much as you loved the idea of carrying this man’s offspring. And the more time went on, the harder it was not to talk to him about it. You dreaded this, though. Because you’d been on the receiving end of that conversation. Of not wanting kids and having someone you loved tell you that they wanted to start a family with you, and having to disappoint them and see the heartbreak in their eyes. So you put it off as long as you could. Until one evening, you weren’t able to hold yourself.

I think I want a baby, you blurted out when you walked in the kitchen while Marshall was cooking dinner.

You think you want what, baby ? He asked as he turned to you. Sorry, I didn’t hear you over the noise of that kitchen fan.

No, I said I-I think I want a baby, you repeated nervously.

You think you want a baby ? He repeated carefully.

I mean… yeah, you simply said.

He looked at you with a raised eyebrow. Clearly, you were taking him by surprise. He turned off the fan and the kitchen stove, before walking to you.

That’s new, he said matter-of-factly.

Kind of, you admitted. I mean… I’ve been thinking about it for some time now.

So you don’t think you to have want a baby. You know you want to have one, he pointed out.

Y-yeah. I’m sorry, you mumbled as you looked down.

For how long have you thought about it ? He asked.

I’m not sure, you admitted. Does it matter ?

I thought you didn’t want to be a mom, he said. That you were perfectly happy with being an aunt. That it was the best of both worlds. That’s what you said.

I know, you replied. And I meant it. I’m as surprised as you are, really. But then I thought about how I’d react if I got pregnant. And I realized I wouldn’t mind that. Having a baby that’s part you and part me.

Oh wow, he said as he scratched the back of his head.

Yeah, you hummed. And I thought it was just something random and that I’d forget about it. But I can’t. And it’s been months now, and I think you have great genes and that our baby would be really cute. And Target has the most adorable baby clothes and I know condoms are cheaper than a college education but there were little bunnies on the pajamas I saw the other day and I also found out that they make baby Jordan sneakers that look like the ones you love and-

You caught yourself rambling and stopped talking. Now, you weren’t making any sense and you were just dumping the whole thing on him. Probably not the best way to go about it. He was staring at you with an amused look on his face.

I’m sorry, you said will a sad voice. I know you’re done with it. We’ve talked about it and I know it really sucks that I’m changing my mind but I needed to tell you because I’ve been thinking about it a lot and-

Do you plan on letting me speak ? He asked with a smile.

Yes. Sorry.

Ok, he chuckled. I have a few questions. Is there a reason why you changed your mind ?

Well… you, I guess, you shrugged. I mean, I love you, and I see what an amazing father, what a great uncle you are.

Ok, he said. And, another question : is that something you want ? Or is it something you need ?

I don’t know, you admitted. I’m really happy with our life just the way it is. I don’t need a baby to be fulfilled and for my life to have meaning. But I can’t stop thinking of how much I’d like a baby with you.

Ok, he hummed. So… it’s not something you’d break up over ?

No, you said. I love you. I want to spend my life with you. And I don’t think I want a baby if I can’t have it with you. You’re the reason I want one. Because the baby I have in my mind… he has your eyes, your nose and your smile.

Meh. Doesn’t sound too cute, he chuckled. If anything, it sounds like an ad for contraception.

Oh, come on, you giggled.

But… he ? He asked with a smile.

Sometimes she, you corrected. I never really wanted kids so I don’t really care, I guess. Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to just dump this whole thing on you… we both know this talk sucks. But I couldn’t really keep it to myself. I needed to tell you. I’m sorry.

Quit apologizing, babe, he said reassuringly. I’m glad you told me.

Really ? You asked nervously.

Of course, he replied. I can tell it hasn’t been easy for you.

You nodded and he pulled you into his arms before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You closed your eyes and inhaled his scent. You definitely felt lighter after telling him, even though it didn’t really change anything.

So… can I get back to you on that ? He finally asked.

Huh ?! You asked as you looked up from his chest.

I think I’m gonna need a bit of time to think about it, he continued. I can’t promise I’ll say yes. But I’ll consider it.

Wait… seriously ? You asked in shock.

Isn’t that why you brought it up in the first place ? He mused.

I don’t know, you said. I guess I mostly expected you to convince me it was a terrible idea. I mean, you’ve broken up with people over that.

So have you, he pointed out. But it’s you. It’s us. What we have is different. I feel like my family’s complete so I never really wanted to have another kid. But I’m in love with you. And if there’s anyone I’d give it a shot with… it’s you.

Ok, you said with an emotional smile.

I’m not saying yes to anything, though, he warned. Don’t get your hopes up.

But you’re not saying no, you pointed out with a smile.

I’m not, he agreed. Because even though having kids can be tough… it’s pretty great, too. And I know you’d be a great mom.

You flashed him a smile and buried your face in his chest. The simple fact that he was willing to consider it because he loved you filled your heart with joy.

You didn’t really bring up the topic in the following weeks, but you could see a change in Marshall’s demeanor whenever someone around you talked about kids. You could absolutely tell he was thinking about it. You weren’t too sure what the best way to go about it was. Of course, you were curious to know how he felt about it, what was on his mind. But you didn’t want to be annoying and press him on the matter, so you figured that it was probably better to wait for him to get back to you on that, once his mind was made up.

Waiting was trying, though. Because in the meantime, you had to watch him interact with countless babies and young children, feeling like your ovaries exploded. Patience is a virtue and that waiting period was definitely an opportunity for you to practice it. Thankfully, it finally came to an end when you came back from work to Marshall waiting for you in the living room, with a bouquet of roses on the table, as well as a paper bag. You greeted him and thanked him for the nice gesture.

What’s the occasion ? You asked.

Since when do I need a special occasion to treat my woman to some roses and a present ? He asked back.

Touché, you giggled. Thank you my love. Can I open the bag ?

Not yet, he said. I want you to have a look at this first.

He handed you some papers and you skimmed through it. It was a printing of his schedule for the foreseeable future. You looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

That’s, erm, fine ? You said, unsure of what he was expecting you to say.

It’s my schedule, he said. For the next two years.

I see that, you chuckled. I’m just not sure why you’re showing it to me ? You usually don’t consult me when it comes to your work schedule.

As you can see, I’ve moved a couple of trips that were already planned, he explained as he pointed to a few dates. Meaning that I’ll be going to LA a little bit more in the upcoming three months. But after that, no more work trips and I put a hold on the performance planning. I’ll stay in Detroit.

Ok ? You said - still not grasping what he was getting at. That’s nice. But why did you change the schedule ? Is there a specific reason why you need to stay here ?

Apparently, when you’re trying to have a baby with your woman, it’s better to be in the same city, he grinned.

You stared at him in shock, your mouth slightly agape. Marshall was smiling from ear to ear. Next thing he knew, you were in his lap, arms wrapped around his neck, peppering your face with kisses.

Oh my God, you said emotionally. Really ? Oh I love you so much, Marshall !

I love you too, he hummed.

I can’t believe it, you whispered. Wait- What’s in the bag ?

Open it, he chuckled.

You reached for it and saw it contained a bunch of ovulation prediction kits, pregnancy tests, some folic acid and some lube.

Apparently, these are the basic essentials for trying to conceive, he commented.

You’re amazing, you said with the biggest smile on your face. So… we’re doing this ? We’re making a baby ?

If you haven’t changed your mind, yeah, he nodded.

As a response, you threw yourself in his arms and kissed him passionately. He chuckled into the kiss and cupped your face, staring at you lovingly.

I’ll give you the cutest baby, you promised.

I have no doubt, he grinned.

Do you think I’ll be a pretty pregnant lady ? You mused.

Are you kidding me ? He asked. God, you’re going to be so hot. The thought of you carrying my baby… You have no idea the things it does to me.

Oh yeah ? Like what ? You asked defiantly. Show-

Before you had the chance to finish your sentence, Marshall had you pinned to the couch and was grinding against you. It didn’t matter that you were both fully clothed, you could feel his excitement through the fabric.

I’m gonna fill your pretty pussy, he promised. And I’m gonna make a pretty mama out of you.

Mmmyes, you whimpered.

Gonna give you a pretty belly, he continued. I can’t wait to see you carry our child. Can’t wait to start trying.

When ? You asked pleadingly.

How about now ? He whispered in your ear.

#eminem #marshall mathers #slim shady #eminem fanfiction #eminem x reader #eminem fluff #eminem imagine #marshall mathers x reader #marshall mathers imagine #Eminem One Shot

278 notes · View notes

twistmusings · 3 months ago

Note

florid and (arguably) azujade are feasting this chapter update. congrats us

Honestly Anon, you're so right.

Chapter 7 is so interesting for Octavinelle - largely because we do get to see so much of how they think of each other and themselves, and we get to see so much of their relationship with each other. Honestly the shippers are thriving, but so are so many Jade and Floyd fans.

CW: Spoilers, Twisted Wonderland Character Shipping and mentions of Neurodivergence under the cut in case that isn't your cup of tea. It's very long and examines Floyd and Riddle's and Jade and Azul's dynamics throughout TWST and is sort of Character Analysis as well. Special note that there are Visual spoilers under the cut that will spoil some of the jokes from this chapter, so proceed with caution.

First, Floyd, who we see is outright distraught when everything goes right. Honestly at this point it makes me, as an ADHD person, struggle to not view Floyd as also having ADHD. I tend to not actually assign the characters neurodivergence or diagnose them, but honestly his characteristics really point to him being understimulated and just generally miserable because he's not doing anything and that's boring him. I have heard this from so many other folks with ADHD and have experienced it myself. I think, truth be told, that Floyd is a really good picture of a young person with ADHD. Especially as someone who was just properly diagnosed later in life - I would get these random, massive intense moods and would never be able to explain them until I began to suspect I had ADHD. If we consider Floyd's general characterization - he hates to be 'bored', he hates to force himself to do things that he doesn't want to do, he had random, intense moods, randomly struggling with some academics while really excelling in the things that interest him, comparing himself to other people and not understanding why he's different ... like, yeah, as a person with ADHD I relate to him so much. It's so interesting to me because Japan in general has a lot of medical bias against diagnosing and managing neurodiversity, so I think generally speaking, he's honestly a really well written example of someone who is struggling. I think his portrayal is probably so important for young people who play the game because it makes them feel normal and accepted, and I can't deny that.

And then Floyd and Riddle... these two are so funny. Like, if you had to ask me any character that shows having a crush on someone else canonically, I would probably point to Floyd and how he acts with Riddle. Considering that they're teenagers and we know neither he nor Riddle have any experience dating (none of the characters except Ace really do), I think it's really charming because like... are they annoying the fuck out of each other? Yeah, and I think that's pretty realistic for people who are 17 who have crushes on each other. Of course, I don't want to say I support people annoying or antagonizing their partners, but they are young people who are still learning how life works. I realize that teasing =/= having a crush on someone, but like...

In the recent stitch event they had this dialogue

Riddle gets so genuinely happy when Floyd praises him. Even Jack takes note of it. And then in Floyd's Labwear...

This interaction is so telling of the sort of relationship that they have with one another - first Floyd interprets their interactions as playing. Second, Riddle takes note that Floyd is in a bad mood which means that Riddle pays enough attention to him to notice when he's having a bad day. And then you have Jade over there just like 👀. It's so goofy but it's kind of wholesome also because it shows that in spite of everything, Riddle still shows concern for Floyd and Jade is a nosy sibling.

I don't know how many people have actually read the comic anthology, but there's a side story with Floyd and Riddle where Riddle is trying to study how to control himself better following his OB and Floyd, of course, comes to bother him and notices him reading advanced books and that ends in this interaction.

Like, is Floyd being a shit? Yes, of course, but he also doesn't take it back when he says that he thinks that it's admirable that Riddle works hard.

They really are the duality. Please enjoy this too-high effort shitpost I made.

And then add the fact that in the most recent story chapters the thing that gets Floyd to wake up is Silver and Jamil reminding him of the entrance ceremony where Riddle threw him through the air, and Floyd essentially being like "Yeah goldfishie is fun that was fun" and that being what snaps him out of it? Like these two are fated to irritate the hell out of each other by the story itself.

Also I think it's such a funny cute touch that the reason Floyd even started irritating Riddle is because Riddle couldn't control his temper and flung him. Floyd was just being curious, and while, yeah he probably should have asked before he touched Riddle's hair because he was curious if it would feel hot, Riddle immediately rose to meet his energy, and generally speaking we know that Floyd is a physically motivated person. He likes to fight, and he likes to test his strength. No one else caused a scene at the Sophomore orientation except Riddle. You know, the character that is almost entirely focused on not breaking rules? Riddle painted a massive target on his own back with his temper. And honestly, what I think does make it work is that even though Floyd teases Riddle literally all the time, he does respect Riddle. Riddle is interesting to him because he's strong and reacts when Floyd irritates him. As I said before, on Floyd's end at least, the antagonism is playful, and considering Floyd's relationship with Jade and Azul it's easy to see why. It's how he was raised to view affection from friends and peers.

Now, how about Riddle's side of things? Well, while we don't get a ton of canon crumbs from Riddle, there's at least a few things that we do get. We know that Riddle sort of resents that Floyd teases him, but he has been told multiple times by other people that Floyd is just trying to get a rise out of him. And yet, every time Floyd compliments Riddle and then immediately starts teasing him, Riddle falls for it. On some level, I'm sure it's because Riddle likes the attention just as much as Floyd, even if for a different reason. Riddle gets put down a lot - from his dorm and from his own mother. But even if Floyd teases him, Floyd also gasses him up because, like I said, Floyd genuinely thinks highly of Riddle. Riddle gets complimented and he gets smug about it because he thinks highly of himself, and it probably feels good to have that recognized.

Compare Riddle's interactions with Floyd to the ones he has with Jade, for example.

From the Spectral Soiree event.

There are a couple reasons why I feel like this is important to note. First, Riddle recognizes that Jade is making fun of him immediately. Riddle also misses Jade's sarcasm. Riddle isn't good at reading Jade - he finds Jade unpredictable and malicious, and interprets this as Jade making fun of him. In contrast, you don't see Riddle outright refuse a compliment from Floyd - he knows that Floyd is being upfront about how he feels when he says the things he does, but he doesn't know that about Jade. Riddle is also the butt of the joke here, whereas if we compare it to the similar situation that he went through with Floyd during the Tropical Turbulence event.

Floyd is teasing Riddle, yes, but in this situation he isn't making Riddle the butt of the joke, he's just causing a little bit of chaos. Floyd already has a plan in place, but Riddle the two aren't arguing with each other. It's also important to note that Floyd is one of the few characters outside of his dorm that Riddle really banters with comfortably.

The other thing is that though they compete with and annoy each other, Floyd and Riddle are actually genuinely pretty nice to each other otherwise. They both compliment each other pretty frequently even if they usually pepper in barbs as they do.

Floyd and Riddle are also pretty similar people, too:

At any rate, that's a lot of screenshots to basically say, yes they do make fun of each other and tease each other, but when they do get onto the same page, they work very well together and seem to have a mutual respect for each other even if they criticize each other. They can identify the aspects in each other that they can't identify in themselves and it makes their chemistry interesting because every time they share screentime it seems like they learn from each other.

Anyway, Florid fans eat well literally any time these two share screen time.

And then Jade and Azul... honestly those two cracked me up the entire time.

First you have Jade's dream with his god awful imagination. Jade literally gets the knockoff versions of Azul and Floyd as I said in the first post about it, but I think it's interesting to see how he perceives both of them. I'll be including images this time.

I'll start with Floyd because HOO buddy if I was Floyd and had to endure this shit.

This is an actual crime.

That being said, Floyd is noticeably more childish in Jade's dream than the actual Floyd is in reality, both in his rather immature visage as well as a more child-like way of speaking.

It's worth noting, in Floyd's dream, Floyd doesn't really pay much attention to where Jade is, and he doesn't really pay any attention to where Azul is either. He says "Eh, Jade's probably with Azul on land because the Mostro Lounge was succeeding." Floyd also makes a point of saying that it's a rule between the three of them - they don't have to stick together - if they don't want to do something, then they won't stick together and whoever wants to do it can do it on their own, or if they don't want to involve someone in something, they don't involve them in it. (Ironically, I would argue that this is one of the healthier dynamics for friendship in TWST that we see. All three of them have discussed and come to understand that if they need to separate ways, they will, they don't want to hold each other back from the things they enjoy.)

Jade on the other hand, and whether Floyd likes it or not, seems to view Floyd as a younger brother. We don't get confirmation as to whether or not Jade hatched first or if Floyd hatched first, but regardless of whichever it is, it seems like Jade views Floyd as his younger brother, and seems to have an instinct to coddle him, even if this portrayal of Floyd is deeply unflattering to Floyd and starts a whole fight.

It's also of note: Floyd didn't expect to be in Jade's dream at all. Floyd talks about how he figures that Jade has just dreamed about him in a similar way that Floyd had dreamed of Jade - off doing whatever he wanted to do. That's not true - Floyd is there, with Jade, and engaging in Jade's interests.

In Jade's official EN school uniform home tap he says:

Though some translations tend to interpret this line differently, and essentially instead say that Floyd is clingier than he seems.

The reason I'm pointing this out is because Jade is the only one of the three who's primary dream features all three of them together. This would seem to point toward Jade actually being the one who's clingier, and to being the one who's most attached to both of them. I can't really say for certain, but I almost wonder if Jade has a bit of a fear of abandonment with regard to Azul and Floyd and that's why his ideal dream world is one where they're both so reliant on him.

And then Azul...

Is Giorno Giovanna in the room with us?

Seriously though, I think it's kind of interesting to see how Azul is portrayed in Jade's imagination.

For reference, here's what Azul actually looks like in his mer form in the same pose.

The thing I immediately noticed is Azul's eyes. Sure, the image Jade has of Azul is a JJBA joke, but there's something else I want to point out about them in particular.

Azul's eyes are an entirely different, brighter color. In fact, it's also a different color from Azul's overblot eye color as well.

We know that Jade's limited imagination means he's working on his own impressions of Floyd and Azul and you're telling me that Jade's impression of Azul is that he looks like a character from a manga known for being about handsome, fabulous men and that he has ginormous, bright, shiny blue eyes that look like sapphires? Hello?????? Jade???

I think this is fascinating because had they just drawn Azul as like a normal old JJBA reference but kept his color palette the same, I could see it just being explained as "oh, neat, Jade thinks Azul is handsome when Azul doesn't" but follow me with this: Jade's imagination is painting them in broad strokes the way that Epel's imagination was doing in his dream. These are Jade's impressions of Floyd and Azul.

Floyd tracks - he sees Floyd as a younger brother and someone he inherently wants to take care of, even if it's not realistic. Floyd is a childish younger brother in a cartoonish way. Azul is motivated by money in a cartoonish way. These are the traits that stick out the most about the both of them to Jade.

So when Jade imagines Azul physically what he sees is Azul being handsome AND that he has these shiny bright blue eyes even if his memory gets the shade of blue wrong. Jade....... honey................ I need you to sit down when I tell you this..........

And then after he and Floyd fight, because Jade is too stubborn to wake up because he can't grasp that what he's seeing is wrong, the thing that finally triggers him to realize something is off is this version of dream Azul checking on him after the fight and being relieved he's okay and then saying that he's afraid he would have lost his "かわいい部下".

The thing that triggers Jade to start waking up is Azul calling Jade his cute subordinate (essentially his cute assistant). I am not exaggerating this. That is literally the phrase that triggers Jade. Jade even repeats it.

AND HE FUCKING PANICS

JADE. I AM BEGGING THE SECONDHAND CRINGE THIS MADE ME FEEL.

From there the dream Floyd of course says he's going to cry if Jade left him and like that just seals the deal. And everyone is super impressed because Jade realized it was wrong by himself and woke himself up.

I don't tend to insert my opinions much in my post but there is not a single person on this planet that is not going to make me believe that Jade did not just gay panic himself awake. I feel like most queer people have experienced something just like this. Jade literally wakes himself up because he's like "no, wait, hold on, Azul wouldn't say that, right?" and then Floyd saying he's going to cry sells it. Dream Azul essentially just fucking "baby girl"ed him and Jade was like "no, actually, that's too cringe for me to even dream about".

Then you have Azul's dream. Honestly there aren't a lot of crumbs there for Jade, but I think it's sort of sweet how even if they're sort of forced to, Jade and Floyd don't want to force Azul to do anything. They have a lot of respect for each other's personal boundaries, and they were fully prepared to let Azul stay asleep and allow him to work it out himself if he wanted to wake up. It doesn't end up working out that way, but it's not hard to tell that both the twins and Azul had respect for each other as individuals.

Another neat thing is that Azul is one of the few people who's dreams aren't inherently things he really wants. They're more of "what-if" scenarios. What if Azul was good at sports and ended up being a high school athlete? What if Azul actually got to follow through on burning that picture of his younger self and then opened a Mostro Lounge branch? I think it's interesting that Azul seems to be kept in these dreams because his imagination is vivid, and not because they're an ideal world perse. In a sense they are - but Azul himself admits that he doesn't really want either of them.

Azul gets so much growth shown in this chapter. He ends up wanting to wake up because he wants to live for himself, and not live for what other people think of him or having to rely on them. Azul still wants to succeed, but he wants to succeed for himself and not because he feels a need to one up the people that bullied him, and he wants to be fulfilled in himself. He's actually working on his mental health, I love that for him.

And, one more thing of note, I think it's so fucking cool that at the end of the book, Azul doesn't freak out about other people seeing him in his true form. In fact, he doesn't freak out about seeing himself in his true form when Idia makes a proxy version of him - he's just thinking about how cool it would be to have a second version of himself. I feel like most people have gotten the sense that Azul has a sense of self-loathing regarding his mer-form, but it seems like if he did at some point, he's made peace with it.

Anyway that's an unnecessarily long infodump about my feelings about the character relationships that we've got in the new update. Like obnoxiously long. So, uh... I'll just end the post with Azul's smiling sprite because I just think it's fucking adorable.

#answered;;#Anonymous #florid #jeiazu #twst #twisted wonderland #spoilers #twst spoilers #character analysis;;#Octavinelle is the dormitory where all of the queer folk go #I mean all of the dorms are but these three have a certain je ne sais quoi #In basically every test I've ever taken that sorts you into a dorm I've also ended up in Octavinelle so.... that tracks #welcome to Octavinelle we had good food and gay fish #twst shipping;;

158 notes · View notes

moniericreative · 23 days ago

Text

Joker and Neurodivergency: The Very Long ADHD Yappathon

So this is mostly just an excuse to ramble, project, and headcanon.

But the longer I've been working on my Dialogue Compilation Project... The more I've gradually started to notice bits about Joker as a character that hit pretty close to experiences I've also dealt with as someone neurodivergent, specifically someone with inattentive ADHD.

So how about we delve into it?

So as a foreward to describe the explanation process: What exactly is Inattentive ADHD?

Inattentive ADHD is a type of ADHD where children have a hard time paying attention but don’t necessarily exhibit hyperactive behavior.

In simpler terms, it's more of an internal hyperactivity. Like your brain or emotional regulation are constantly unrestrained. For instance: - Your thoughts tend to get scattered - Your short-term memory's spotty (i.e. you may struggle to repeat back something you were just told a few seconds ago) - You tend to dissassociate out of the blue due to a lack of stimulation - Your emotions might go 0-to-100 where it may be "nothing" or "suddenly everything at once" depending on what's going on (especially with external stimulants like crowds or sudden noises) - Etcetera.

And because of that lack of internal structure, it's difficult to: - Maintain habits or time awareness for some folks - Bodily queues like hunger or sleep simply don't register unless in extremes (like a low blood sugar, hunger shakes, or overall sleep deprivation crapiness).

And that's not even getting into the executive dysfunction or auditory processing issues... Hoo boy... 💪🥲

There's a wide variety of symptoms for each individual, nobody's the same. Heck some of these are experiences someone else might not even have, either.

Some of them even overlap with autism as well (and some folks might have both), but out of respect as someone who isn't autistic, I'll personally refrain from discussing about it here to avoid accidental stereotyping (but feel free to add to this with personal anecdotes if you like!). Mostly just going off my own experiences with ADHD.

So how exactly does any of this apply to Joker?

Well, some of the oh-so-fun things about being ADHD is:

- Needing consistent reminders for tasks

- Executive Dysfunction (especially when things go wrong or you feel like crap)

- Being able to Hyperfocus (i.e. "being in the zone" to a degree that you tune everything else out including the time spent on the task).

We know based on the Persona series' time-slot system that typically, Joker will spend hours doing a single task and only that task. There's no multitasking or anything. He is focused solely on whatever he starts doing, be it studying, making tools, training, etcetera.

(There's also smaller moments like the P5 Anime as well, where he'll actually get mildly frustrated with anyone that distracts him from a task he's focusing on. Specifically Akechi when he keeps trying to have a conversation with him while he's concentrating on using a pour-over.)

That sounds about normal for anyone though, right?

Well, here's the thing.

He usually doesn't stop until Morgana suggests he should.

This is different from previous Persona protagonists like Yu or Makoto/Kotone because they don't have someone like Morgana constantly reminding them that they've done plenty of work, or that they should head to bed. They just do it themselves.

On top of that, while party members (both from P5 itself and prior games) will occasionally remind you to "do [blank] by a certain date," Morgana's the one character that will consistently remind Joker (and you) several times in a single day, ranging from maybe a line or two, to three/four different ones every day the week before the deadline.

The one time Morgana's not present do this?

No afternoon or evening events to work on, Joker's just so damn miserable without his close friend that he holes himself up in Leblanc's Attic and does nothing for two days straight. Not even in said attic, it's standing around missing Morgana or going to sleep. Good 'ol depressed-flavoured executive dysfunction if ever I've felt one. 🥲

And on top of the "reminders" bit... Joker's also the only protag who has handwritten notes about events in the game on top of the Calendar Menu's summary too (courtesy of the notebook Sojiro gives him). Sometimes the date in the menu itself will be blank, but Joker will have these written down anyways:

Which is something that's often super helpful for ADHD folks when recalling our long-term memories (one of our bigger strengths), as specific details like these can help us piece the entire situation back together even if it was months/years ago.

(Good thing too in his case especially, considering the Interrogation Room plan hinged on him remembering everything)

So that's surely it, right?

NOPE.

There's another very important detail about Joker that's gets heavily underlooked:

Now we already know some key bits in regards to this information:

Sojiro absolutely doesn't starve him, and in fact he's not only willing to feed Joker on his way out the door, but he's also willing to teach him how to make Leblanc's food too.

And we also that eventually culminates in Strikers as a beloved game mechanic: Joker's Kitchen, which Joker does entirely of his own volition.

It's probably safe to say that he at least doesn't have a food aversion. I mean come on, he's got endless pockets full of random crap from vending machines, some of which sound absolutely inhumane. Or he's at a clinic guzzling random drugs with reckless abandon like the unhinged weirdo he is.

But with the above context that he has a tendency to lose track of time without Morgana's input, it adds a layer to this line that makes a lot of sense. Between being distracted by a task, and sometimes not having "hunger signals" at all, a lot of us tend to not even realize we've been starving all day. It's usually a state of "normal" nothing until oops it's Sudden Hunger Shakes O'Clock.

Which can also develop into just generally eating small portions of food as well, because again, we tend to "not feel hungry" unless it's extreme, and that can really affect our degree of appetite/intake.

Or in other cases, including my own and probably Joker's too until Strikers, there's a lack of general interest in food as a whole too. It's yet another time management task that you have to remember to do, every few hours, every single day, every single week, every single month, every single year. So you'll probably grab anything just so long as it's filling enough to get you by for the day. (Unless you have food aversion... Godspeed us all in finding filling safe foods that don't suddenly change and make us hurl 🫡💦). It's necessary of course, but there's a tedium to it sometimes regardless of the meal that you really have to fight with just to keep living.

Sumi gag aside, come on. Look at the sheer difference. That bun's smaller than Morgana's head and it's the barest minimum snack you can find anywhere.

"But what about the Big Bang Burger Challenge?" Come on man, we all know he's not doing it for the sake of eating. He's doing it to get smarter and prettier and kinder. The power of processed junk food filled with microplastics and employee tears I guess.

Distractability and focusing on a particular interest.

Obviously we don't go "SQUIRREL" at the drop of a hat like an excitable dog (despite how often people like to use that stereotype). But for some of us, our minds do tend to flitter around a bit in search of something to stimulate our brains.

Kinda like a zoo animal pacing around an enclosure, except it's our squishy brain trapped in a cage of bone and too little dopamine. 🫠

And in the abscence of something to work on or talk about, that can range from zoning out in classes/discussions (which Joker does a lot) to dissociate the boredom away (which ironically most people tend to see as "endless patience," if only they knew...), or looking for things to work on or talk about (which he... also tends to do a lot, depending on how much of the maps you explore).

And in Joker's case specifically, a lot of that tends to end up with him sticking his nose into situations that benefits the specific thing that gives him a purpose/drive (being a Phantom Thief), but are absolutely not normal things a teenager should be getting into.

Like dealing with the Yakuza. Or being the fake boyfriend of a drunk woman. Or paying his homeroom teacher to be a maid for him. Or a homoerotic shoot-out (... well, three separate times actually if you count an arcade game) with another teenage weirdo. Or T-Posing in a church to understand The Passion Of The Christ. Or unholy amounts of burger-eating to raise his "social stats."

He's willing to get into all kinds of mischief if it helps the Phantom Thieves. If it doesn't, then he's not particularly interested in starting anything with someone. More often than not, it takes Morgana mentioning how someone's services or skills "could help the thieves" to get Joker to be interested in them.

Or the person being especially pushy for him to cave in Maruki's case, to which Joker will make the same rationalization instead despite his initial pushback:

He's so dedicated to being a Phantom Thief that it's equal parts inspiring, relatable, hysterical, and sad to watch.

Especially since at the end of almost every single confidant (bar the party members', and Akechi's and Maruki's who both peg him as a thief pretty quickly through happenstance), every single one of them find out he's a Phantom Thief on their own. Because this poor boy is so tunnel-visioned on his role as "Joker" and helping people that he's about as subtle as a steel chair to the face and woefully unaware of it until it's told to him. 🥹

Lastly, NO TOUCHY.

Honestly, probably my favorite underrated bit about Joker that barely gets talked about.

Across the different P5 mediums (well, two as far as I'm aware of), there's at least one on-screen instance in each of Joker being touch-aversed whenever other people invade his personal space. Usually whenever he has physical contact with someone else (like any of the romaceable confidants, or Akechi), he's the one initiating it first.

In the P5 Anime you've got the bathouse scene between him, Ryuji, and Yusuke after Madarame's palace. In it, Ryuji jumps away from the hot water coming out of the faucet and bumps into Joker.

His response directed at Ryuji?

In English: "Please scoot back."

In Japanese (according to subs anyway): "You're making it hotter."

Both of which he says while hunched up with his shoulders to his ears and shooting Ryuji an unhappy expression.

Seriously. That is a "dead-inside and accepting reality" stare if ever I've felt one, choppy animation quality aside.

In P5 Royal meanwhile, you've got Yusuke's third awakening in Third Semester, where Joker says this when he suddenly grips his shoulders:

Both of which are basically the exact same message, just told in different ways.

... And that's not even going into how more often than not, any time we see Joker being touched on-screen by someone else, they're usually restraining or physically abusing him.

Whether you want to chalk that up to trauma from his initial arrest in the Shido Flashback, or as a ND aspect of his, is entirely up to you. Personally I'm leaning more on the latter as he usually only establishes this boundary with people he trusts (whereas he just outright avoids contact altogether around strangers), and he only breaks this boundary himself around specific people he cares about.

So with all that rambling finally done, hopefully this helps others notice some really cool bits of characterization around this loveable goofball. I won't say this a "100% accurate" interpretation of Joker as a character because everyone sees him differently. He is a self-insert after all.

But compared to the previous Persona protags (hell, even Atlus protags in general), Joker's always the one I immediately fall back to as the favorite for some reason. The coat is snazzy, he has a smirk that makes all the ladies and gay detectives weak at the knees, but... I could never really pinpoint the actual why until now.

Whether Atlus intended Joker to be neurodivergent-coded is up in the air, but there's just so many aspects about him beyond the player's control that hit really close to home, and I'm glad that he's such a popular and beloved character for the traits that make him him.

#p5 #persona 5 #gaming #nuerodivergent #adhd #p5r #persona 5 royal #persona #p5 joker #akira kurusu #ren amamiya #character analysis #video games #rambles #moni rambles

78 notes · View notes

am-i-the-asshole-official · 7 months ago

Note

AITA for threatening to become a girl's step dad to troll her into blocking me and stop dragging me in a group chat ? Jenny (23F) blew up because I (24NB) said she'd be a shitty social worker bc of her specific autism symptoms + class bg. My gf (45F) said it was warranted because of how overwhelmed i got by the wall of text with triggering details of my abuse. I never told my GF that the fight started because Jenny called me a gold digger. I also never mentioned that I ended it an hour later by posting pics of Jenny's mom in the chat, ignoring her ranting and discussing the vacancy left by her dead dad*, and how i could fill said vacancy. 😬😬😬 Might of gone too far with this one.

Backstory: I lived with Jenny when I was houseless indefinitely. She only let me stay for two weeks because it would be too "distracting" to her studies. Jenny was incredibly rich, didn't work, and her parents paid her rent for a 2 bedroom. She admitted she got rejected from every grad school she applied to except for the one her mom was in charge of. Her mom bought her a condo in the city the school was in. She kept asking me how she should decorate it, completely ignorant to how uncomfortable this made me and my other friends. Jenny was oblivious constantly to how she made others feel. She was actually the most incompetent person I've ever met in terms of comforting other, always tone deaf and completely absorbed with her own, single traumatic event. She made constant jokes about the abuser I was fleeing and even compared this stalked to a /serial killer/ documentary she watched, but never EVER showed any signs of internalizing how I almost lost my life to another person, how that might affect me or even just bum me out. Seriously, I've never met someone else who was so incapable of even being sensitive to issues that were /EXTREMELY SERIOUS/. Forget comforting, the stuff she routinely said to me and my other friends to try to cheer us up was beyond degrading. It was wearing on me a lot.

Jenny herself was neurodivergent. She often said her autism prevented her from understanding the feelings others had, reading their expressions, and tolerating crying or loud noise-- she forbid her musician roommate from doing both. None of those mean shes a worthless person, but all of those things would make someone a horrible therapist or social worker. Oh my God, literally every time I talked about my recent trauma, she would talk about herself and then blame her autism when I told her it just wasn't helping.

The final piece of this was I had a nervous breakdown and screamed at her over discord that she was a shit friend and needed to give up on social work, for like an hour. NOT MY PROUDEST, but I ALMOST DIED. I was living with her because SOMEONE WAS STALKING ME. and I would have liked to not have my abuse JOKED about. HOW DID JENNY RESPOND!? She began dragging me, through the mud, in the group chat, for, dating, an, older, woman, who, paid, for, my, air bnb, because, !!!she!!! wouldn't let me live with her for more than a week. I was HOMELESS. It became all about "OP you are such a b*tch, you are with a woman twice your age and she pays for everything now but you are still a miserable and angry person. You are so blah blah blah you are an ableist, you said I can't become a social worker bc of autism blah blah blah you have major major issues, Go back your rich granny and leech off of her you useless, fucked up little gold digger."

U_U Then, she started graphically describing how I deserved my abuse, so I shrimply began to troll. And yes, I pulled out my magnum oppus like fucking playing blue eyes white dragon, oh yeah I slipped her a pristine Jenny's mom facebook photo and said "Hey you never said your mom was so cute. Maybe, I could leech off her next and become your new dad." Yes, her dad died.* She blocked me immediately. Its OK. It was knives out for Jenny as soon as my GF gifted me a pair of $700 Isabel Marant shoes** , the most EXPENSIVE thing ive ever owned in my whole life, and Jenny saw me excited and called her mom to buy her a pair. It's, absolutely OK, if I am the asshole. I wear my crown of thorns, judas that I am, but I really, really think Jenny was being cruel. *he died 18 years ago ** the shoes are no more because i fell into my gf's rich friend's koi pond

#aita #am i the asshole

202 notes · View notes

dreamerinthemoonlight · 9 months ago

Text

Love and Deepspace Guys w/ an S/O on Sensory Overload (Xavier, Rafayel, Zayne)

I've got a burn out specific one queued for next month, but why not do sensory overload too. because yeah, neurodivergency is a bitch sometimes

Rafayel x gn!reader, Xavier x gn!reader, Zayne x gn!reader

Rafayel

Rafayel, Rafayel. He's the one you want when you're in public

This mf doesn't not give a flying fuck if getting you out of a situation is rude. "You're overwhelmed? Ok lets go home, I don't even want to be here anyway"

I'm not entirely sure how his presence affects the sensory overlaod because he seems like he takes up a lot of energetic space and he also seems to like a lot of attention. I also don't know him as well

But at the same time, as long as you communicate, he'll do his very best to not make things worse

Xavier

There are two great things about Xav

A) he's crazy quiet. The fact that he sleeps so much means that it's pretty easy to be around him even when you're overloaded

And b) he's a walking fairy light maker! I know personally, fairy lights are great for sensory overload and Xavier can just conjure those out of thin air. And he can make them that perfect temperature of light that just hits right

Another benefit is that realistically, he's not an overly social person either so when you're hanging out it's just you guys anyway

If you are in public, however, he's gentle but firm with people to make sure you can go to a safer, more comfortable place

Zayne

Let's be real, you're on sensory overload and he's not guaranteed to even be around to help

That's just the downside to dating Zayne

Buuut when he is around, he's a bit of a halfway point between Raf and Xav.

If you're in public, he has no issues being brisk or downright rude if he has to, but he also has some sense of tact

He's also probably the likely to catch it if you're overloaded and continuing to overload yourself. In that case he tries to redirect your attention elsewhere or help you find something less taxing to because he knows that even if it feels good in a weird way, it's also isn't exactly helping your case any

Something he did though, when he realized that sensory overload was a thing, is he made sure you had a key to his place and that there was a quiet room where you can just decompress

Actually, i think all three do something similar, but Zayne is like "I'm not home that much anyway, use it as much as you want"

I think he takes a lot of comfort in knowing that even if he can't be with you because he takes his responsibilities seriously--which you know and understand--that you have a place to go and that when he gets home, he can make sure you're getting what you need

#I really want someone like Zayne in my sphere #rafayel love and deepspace #Rafayel x reader #Rafayel x gn!reader #xavier love and deepspace #xavier x reader #xavier x gn!reader #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x reader #zayne x gn!reader #love and deepspace

292 notes · View notes

prentissluvr · 4 months ago

Text

s/o with adhd headcanons — sam winchester

cw : gn!reader, fluff, college!au, stress from school, adhd symptoms like procrastination, executive dysfunction, over and understimulation, etc, eating and medication mentions, highkey just me blabbing, 0.8K words. requested !

prompt : neurodivergent!sam x adhd!reader disclaimer : based on my own experience with adhd but i tried to make it decently generalized (?)

MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!

⟢ first of all, both being neurodivergent really helps you two click when you meet!

⟢ it just adds a layer of understanding and relatability that’s really nice in a friend, especially at such a prestigious place like stanford where you’re expected to be pretty much perfect academically

⟢ so while you’re of course very intelligent, adhd totally gets in the way :,)

⟢ but even before you’re dating, sam’s already so helpful! even if he’s not adhd like you, he’s very understanding and relates to certain aspects!

⟢ mostly because he understands that you get easily understimulated and distracted in dull classes and he’s good at staying focused so he always lends you his notes

⟢ you naturally grow close to each other because you feed off of each other’s energy really well and end up studying for classes together a lot

⟢ even if you’re not the same major, you have several gen-eds that you share and work through together

⟢ it’s very easy to fall for him, and he thinks the same about you!

⟢ he realizes he likes you when he’s hugging you close after a stressful day :,) because he’s sweet and cute like that

⟢ he’s scared of ruining your friendship of course, but he becomes confident enough that you might like him back that he asks you on a date <33

⟢ no relationship is completely easy, but being will him feels so natural that it runs smooth and relieves a lot more stress than it creates

⟢ it’s really nice to date him after being friends first because you already know each other well!

⟢ and in terms of your adhd, he’s already seen the biggest things that stress you out, so he knows how to help and what to look out for

⟢ he’ll know even better than you will if going to a party that night will overstimulate you and he tries to come up with fun dates that will help out when you’re understimulated

⟢ he still of course shares his notes with you for classes you share

⟢ and he tries to keep good track of the other classes you’re taking if you're more disorganized about them

⟢ he pays so so so much attention to everything ever that you say, and this includes all the projects and assignments you’re working on in case you forget

⟢ sam tries his best to be helpful and motivating when your executive dysfunction kicks in and makes you procrastinate, but he’s also understanding that sometimes even just thinking or talking about it is too stressful

⟢ so he’ll distract you for a little bit if you both have the time and then do his best to help you get started on whatever you need to do

⟢ he likes organizing things so he helps you stay organized in your dorm/apartment and for your assignments

⟢ he probably likes making lists, so if those are helpful/not stressful to you, he makes you lists too!

⟢ knows how certain things like your impulsivity or distractedness manifest and learns how to help with those!

⟢ is so understanding if you get distracted while talking to him or doing something with him!

⟢ and is so so so comforting when you get upset for whatever reason, usually stress from school and how your adhd is making it extra difficult for you to get everything done

⟢ loves that you play with his fingers absentmindedly when you get fidgety!!

⟢ and loves that you also understand him and how being neurodivergent affects things!

⟢ you of course reciprocate all of his efforts to understand and help you, and you learn how to best help and read him as well!!

⟢ i think he gets easily overstimulated, so you’re really helpful in reading him and removing him from situations or changing things up before he gets too overstimulated

⟢ holding his hand tight to ground him when he’s overwhelmed <3

⟢ and giving him tight hugs when he gets super stressed!!

⟢ he also makes sure you eat properly even when you don’t feel like it, but doesn’t pressure you too much!

⟢ if you take meds for it, he helps you remember those

⟢ but sometimes meds can feel unhelpful or make you feel worse so he understands if you don’t always take it

⟢ he prioritizes your mental health and comfort over your productivity!

⟢ he wants to help you feel productive and less stressed over unfinished school work, but he doesn’t actually care about your school stuff, he cares about you above all else!

⟢ bonus only having gay and neurodivergent friends because we flock together for real LMAO

⟢ adhd!jess my love, she’s your bestie in this au for sure, unimportant (so important because i love her sooooo much)

⟢ anyways! basically it’s a really nice part of your relationship to have this understanding of each other and ability to care for each other extra well

⟢ it may cause conflict sometimes because you might be understimulated while he’s overstimulated and you have to stay in separate rooms until you both sort of level out LOL

⟢ but it’s never anything big, and you’re both understanding of the other even when your vibes are not on the same wavelength heh

102 notes · View notes

blindbeta · 9 months ago

Note

Hello! I have two questions, so I'll send two asks in case you want to answer them separately. First, a lot of your posts suggest writing multiple blind characters into your story to help avoid tokenism. However, when I try to write multiple blind characters, they always stand out or feel shoehorned in. Do you have any advice for writing multiple blind characters more "casually" so they don't feel as out of place?

Examples of How to Write Multiple Blind Characters Using The Owl House

Hello. Thank you for your questions! I actually started on this months ago and returned to it answering this question here.

I suspect this is what stops many writers, although they aren’t aware of it. This feeling of forcing representation is the result of society’s ableism and it can be difficult to recognize or deal with.

It might help to think about the reverse- isn’t it strange that so many characters in books and shows are abled? Isn’t it strange that so many disabled characters have no community?

When you write multiple blind characters, you are giving your blind character a community.

Another thing that might help is to show different characters having different conditions and different ways of dealing with their blindness. This is a technique I use all the time. You can even list all the blind characters and their characteristics so you can consider them all at once. For fun, we’ll use The Owl House. I feel that using all-ages examples might help writers feel comfortable engaging with the material.

The following will contain discussions of external and internalized ableism. It will also contain heavy spoilers for The Owl House up to the show’s finale.

Here is an example I came up with:

Main character, Luz, has a low vision in both eyes. She uses a cane for nighttime, mostly, but she feels like more of an outcast when she uses it at school, compared to the enthusiasm with which she used it and showed it to her classmates when she was a child. She stopped using a cane before entering high school. She packs it for camp just in case and uses it all the time on The Boiling Isles. There, she feels more comfortable using it every day. She is eventually able to use her cane and other assistive devices, whether magical or non-magical, whenever she needs to. Growing up, she struggled in school due to neurodivergence and not always getting her accommodations or maybe even struggling to ask for accommodations. She is happy to find that Eda and Hexside are able to accommodate her without making her feel othered. Although she has felt rejected in the past, she is able to fully embrace her blindness once more, celebrating a part of her in a way she was able to as a child. Also, she has several copies of The Good Witch Azura books in regular print, large print, and audiobook forms.

Eda, her mentor, had total enucleation in one eye and wears a prosthetic. How did she lose her eye? She doesn’t remember, now stop bugging her. Due to macular degeneration, her vision isn’t so good in the other eye and is decreasing over time. She doesn’t use a cane after struggling against her mother in childhood. She can use her Palisman or King as guides if she needs help. (King appointed himself her unofficial guide demon.) Her visually impaired partner, Raine, has gently and jokingly encouraged her to do what helps, including using assistive devices. After they started dating again, Eda feels comfortable using Raine as a guide, which also gives her an excuse to cozy up to them. Eda eventually comes to terms with her blindness much like her chronic illness. When she and Raine go on walks, she jokingly makes them carry things, stating if they want her to use a guide demon or a cane so bad, they can lend her a hand considering she only has one. She switches between the cane and guide depending on what suits her that day. Raine also supports her in her times of vulnerability. She can also have her phone or use spells to read, but reading is for nerds so she would rather have someone else read to her, such as her sister, Luz, Raine, or King.

Principal Bump is blind with residual vision and uses a guide Paliman to help him navigate and magnify things if he needs it. When he had Eda as a student, he was excited to help a student with similar experiences, but he quickly learned she was a troublemaker.

Willow is totally blind and uses a fluffy guide demon. She also has a cane decorated with flowering vines, which she enjoys using because she can have interesting tactile feedback. She was born blind and doesn’t struggle with her blindness beyond the occasional frustration with ableism or lack of accessibility. Her dads are very supportive and helpful. They sent her to Hexside hoping having a blind principal would assure she would get accommodations. She enjoys using magic with physical and textural elements, which is why she tried the magical school tracks she chose.

Gus is also blind with a bit of remaining vision. He enjoys looking at colors and lights. Gus chose to focus on illusions because they make interesting shapes and colors, providing his brain with a lot of sweet, sweet stimulation. Gus also enjoys that a track that is very visual is something he can excel at. He met Willow when complimenting her on how pretty her plants looked, describing to her what looked like a colorful blossom on a vine. He uses a cane to navigate, finding it more helpful for stairs and general independence even if canes aren’t quite as popular on the Boiling Isles as magically assisted options such as Palismans and guide demons. He also enjoys using something more similar to what humans use, as he is very interested in humans. He feels very comfortable with his blindness, finding a similar outlook in his friend Willow. Together, the two feel more understood. Willow and Gus pass Braille notes to each other in class. Gus prefers to have his spelled books or illusions read to him, though.

Amity deals with internalized ableism stemming from a need to be perfect, as well as many terrible implications from her parents that she doesn’t let on hurt her. She concentrates on not letting her disability stop her, as that’s what a Blight does. She has low vision, similar to Luz, and progressive vision loss. Unlike the other characters, she does not have much positive support. Principal Bump tries to encourage her to use the many aids and accommodations provided by the school, surprised that she knows the Boiling Isles equivalent of Braille, but only because her parents thought it would give their child an edge and because she attended the same early childhood classes as Willow. Amity politely rejects his help and goes on the be the top student just to prove a point to everyone (a.k.a her parents). She grows up being friends with other kids who say ableist things, leading to Amity feeling even more pressured to rely on her remaining vision. Eventually, her relationships with Luz and Willow help her to accept herself. She is able to act more authentically. This includes confronting her former friends, apologizing to the people she bullied, and attempting to use a cane at school. She is surprised to find that nothing really changes and a few people, including her siblings, even comment on her cane use positively. Willow also shows her how to get her phone to read to her, as well as use the spelled books you can buy that read out loud, which helps reduce eye strain. The similarities between her and Luz helps to strengthen their bond, but otherwise their relationship is unchanged from canon. Amity also has another troublesome barrier to asking Luz to Grom, such as how to make the note accessible. She ends up going with large print and high contrast ink. If she can read it, she knows Luz will be able to.

Hunter has an inherited retinal disorder, such as LCA or Stargardt disease. All of his predecessors have had a similar experience and Hunter takes pride in being part of that line. Each Golden Guard has decreased vision compared to the last, it seems. Hunter views his blindness as a part of him. His blindness allows him to adapt in ways others may not have a chance to explore. He becomes aware of advantages he has over the many sighted people he works with. He is known for his talent, adaptability, and resourcefulness. Hunter struggles with photophobia, which his mask helps with. For navigation, he has a cane, as well as his staff, which he prefers to adapt for navigating. It is about chest height and acts similarly to a WeWalk cane. He can use it to teleport and use magic, but it is mostly for identification and navigating if needed. Eventually, he considers switching to a guide demon like Willow’s, which can also offer companionship along with his new Palisman. Hunter can read the Boiling Isles equivalent of Braille, which he uses for labeling, personal note-keeping, and reading when his eyes are tired. He can keep working longer this way, although he does occasionally read or write for fun if he has a spare few minutes. Hunter also makes tactile maps.

There we go. I provided examples of several blind characters in the same place. Many of them know each other and maybe even meet because of their blindness. They all have different types of blindness and different experiences with their blindness, even when compared to characters who are on similar places on the blindness spectrum. I explored how they navigate, how they view their blindness, and ways in which they relate to others. Some struggle with internalized ableism, but not all of them. They have their own arcs related to their blindness, although they have the same arcs and interests as in canon.

Rather than seeing multiple blind characters as an obstacle, view it as an opportunity for characterization. For example, Amity’s experience with ableism is heavily rooted in how she was raised, in how her parents treated her blindness as a defect or something to be ignored. Meanwhile, Luz’s experience with ableism originated in childhood rejection. Compared to them, Willow, Gus, Principle Bump, and Hunter are all thriving. Even Eda is mostly cool with everything, only having a confusing and uncertain relationship with mobility aids. Additionally, Luz is able to let go of and unlearn her internalized ableism as soon as she finds people who accept her. Amity, in comparison, takes much longer to accept herself.

I know that some writers who aren’t blind may feel unequipped to write internalized ableism. It isn’t necessary, but instead something I thought fit Amity’s original character arc. Internalized ableism can be a lot more subtle than this or not feature in your story at all. Luz and Eda might struggle with this as well, but to a lesser degree. It would also be similar to their arcs in canon.

Here are additional character breakdowns because I thought they were fun:

Who uses Braille?

Willow, Hunter, and to some extent, Gus

Braille literacy is declining, so not everyone knows it in this A.U, which is similar to real life. However, I prefer to have at least some of my characters use Braille to push back against that.

Who uses audio to read, primarily or some of the time?

Gus, Amity, Luz, Eda

Who uses regular or large print?

Luz, Amity, Principal Bump

Who uses magnification?

Principal Bump and probably Luz in childhood

Who uses a cane?

Luz, Amity, Hunter, Willow, Eda

However, Luz, Amity, and Eda all struggled to get there to some degree. In real life, few blind people actually use canes despite possibly benefiting from them.

Who uses an animal guide?

Eda, Willow, and, later, Hunter

On the Boiling Isles, creatures participate in training schools and are matched with potential handlers. They are mostly given to adults, although some schools allow kids to apply, such as those in their upper teens. I have a post on guide animals here.

Who has some residual vision?

Luz, Eda, Bump, Gus, Amity, Hunter

Who is totally blind?

Willow

In real life, 85 to 90% of people who are blind have some residual vision, depending on what source you draw from. Most of the cast can still see something, even if only colors, light, and shadow.

I hope this helps. This is my first time sharing something like this. Readers, feel free to use this however you like, for stories or fan art.

-BlindBeta

#blind characters #writing blind characters #the owl house #writing more than one blind character #blind #ableism #disability #ask #scheduled post

203 notes · View notes

musicfueled · 3 months ago

Note

hihi ignore if you want or if you dont write him but if you perchance write for shino aburame (naruto or boruto version idm which) then could i maybe get a little something with him anything is fine thank you and please have a good day :3

Of course!! I'll include some general headcanons, relationship headcanons, then a little story :D I kept it sfw for now but if you'd like nsfw you can ask for that too! (You can dm or submit another ask, either is fine! I also kept the reader gender neutral, so if you want that to be changed you can also add that)

Thank you so much for the request! <33

Rolly Polly | Shino x reader

Shino Aburame x reader SFW

Contents: Headcanon bulletpoints, story, established relationship, neurodivergent Shino, reader is also implied neurodivergent but it's not brought up much, mention of bugs, mention of Hinata having a crush on Naruto

Headcanons

-This man is absolutely autistic no doubt about it. Probably doesn't like stuff touching his face and his eyes are sensitive to light which is why he covers so much

-Feel like he's gender apathetic or agender but comfortable with he/him pronouns or just his name

-Scary amount of knowledge of bugs. Obviously as a bug user he knows a lot, but like, he knows more than the rest of his family. Full on studies even bugs that he has no need to know of. Probably his special interest

-Speaking of bugs, perhaps an odd headcanon but I think his bugs will choose you if they think you're right for him; a type of blessing. They'll occasionally hop onto you when you and Shino are hanging out, or sometimes Shino will send some with you to make sure you're safe. Of course, if you tell him you don't like the bugs being on you, he'll stop doing it/have the bugs not move to you.

-Not a fan of excessive pda. I think maybe he'll hold your hand often but no kissing in public or anything. He's a more private guy.

-In private though, I think he'd be quite touch-clingy. Even if it's just a hand on your arm while you're sitting next to each other doing your own things, he appreciates being constantly affectionate. However, I think he'd get overstimulated if it's too much for too long. Doesn't like a bunch of cuddling when you're going to sleep. I can imagine him liking your head resting on his chest, your arms being intertwined, legs touching, or holding hands while falling asleep. Something to make you guys feel close, but not enough to feel overwhelming.

-Probably has one or two special petnames for you

-Big on formal dates. He likes taking you out to eat at fancy restaurants, however I can't see him getting super dressed up. Probably more neat than usual, but not super divergent from his usual look.

-But also is down for more casual dates like fast food/more informal food places, parks, amusement parks, etc. as long as they're not too loud

-Also hates loud noises. I think overall he gets overstimulated easily

-Not a fan of his body/showing much skin. If you guys were ever to be intimate,

-You have to like his friends; although he isn't super outgoing towards them, they mean a lot to them, especially Hinata and Kiba. As a team they've become so close that it's one for all.

Short story

You were lounging outside of your home, enjoying the sunlight. You were expecting Shino to come by, but weren't sitting out here just to wait. You wanted to indulge in your surroundings and relax a bit, to get a break from the monotony of your room. You look down and see a rolly polly walking by near the leg of your outdoor bench. You smile at the little guy, since you've formed an interest in bugs through extension of your partner.

You hear someone walk closely, thinking nothing of it, since your place is near a main street. However, the footsteps stop.

"Ah, an Armadillidium vulgare. Do you like those?" You hear Shino's voice from behind you, causing you to turn back and face him, smile still plastered on your face. You nodded. "Yea, I think they're neat."

"Did you know they have gills? They're crustaceans." He said, sitting down next to you.

"No, I didn't! That's interesting."

You guys fell into a comfortable silence as he intertwined his fingers with yours. You sat there together for a bit, enjoying the company.

After a while, you break the silence.

"What type of day is it hun? We staying in, going out?" You look at him.

"Perhaps we could go on a walk?" He proposed.

"That sounds like a good idea. Let me get a better outfit on and we can go, 'kay? You can either sit out here or come in, up to you!" You smile.

"Alright, I'll sit inside and wait."

You two walk inside and he sits down on your couch. You find your way to your room and change into a comfortable outfit, putting on your shinobi sandals and konoha headband. You finish off with the perfume/cologne that you knew Shino liked the most; it wasn't very strong but prominent enough to smell, which he liked. You grabbed your wallet and phone just in case, tossing the former in your back pocket. Entering your living room, you see Shino attempting to brush what you assumed to be dog fur off his jacket.

"Hung out with Kiba recently?" You ask, grabbing your lint roller and handing it to him.

"Yea. He wanted me to see a new jutsu he created for him and Akamaru. It needs work, but it was a good idea. You should ask him about it sometime." He said, tone as flat as ever, but you could tell he was admiring Kiba's work.

"I will! I'm always excited to see what Kiba's up to, he's a pretty cool guy. What about Hinata, what's she been up to?" You ask, intrigued.

"The usual. Lots of training, lots of gushing about Naruto. I don't get how he doesn't see right through her, she's so painfully in love with him, it's clear."

"He's... a bit of an airhead."

"That's one way to put it."

"Pff- anyway, you ready?" You ask.

"Yea. Let's go." He replied, getting up.

You both exit your home and you lock the door before you both interlock hands again.

You enjoyed a nice walk around the surrounding woods, allowing him to share information about any insects the two of you encountered. This was you two's favorite activity- it was a great way to bond, given Shino's difficulty having normal conversations due to his autistic lack of social skills. You also got times to talk about interests, though. He made sure it wasn't just him talking about things he enjoyed; he wanted to know you just as much.

As the sun set, you guys headed back to your house. You assumed he was walking you home, but when you were near your destination, he spoke.

"Can I stay with you tonight? I'd like some affection."

You look at him and smile, pleasantly surprised by his request. "Of course! Do you wanna go by your place and get something to wear? If not I might have some stuff you could fit" You offer.

"No need to walk all that way, I can either take my jacket off or borrow something."

"Alright!" The smile was evident in your voice.

You were practically skipping as you completed your walk home together. You unlocked the door and slipped off your shoes, eager to decompress after being out for so long. He does the same, for the same reasons. He takes his coat off and folds it neatly, laying it on the arm of your couch, same place he always does. You both gradually find your way to your room after grabbing a snack. Nothing messy, because he often got on you for having crumbs on your bed.

He ended up asking for a different shirt, which you happily obliged. Knowing Shino wasn't a fan of tight clothes, you gave him one of your bigger shirts.

He didn't bother stepping out of the room to change, feeling plenty comfortable being in the same room while he did. You didn't see him shirtless much, so you got flustered when he did, admiring him wholesomely. He noticed, getting a bit flustered himself. Shino isn't particularly proud of his body, so its heartwarming to know you like it. He tosses the shirt on and joins you in bed.

"You're so handsome." You say as you snuggle up to him.

"Thank you, my lunar moth." He chuckles nervously, but in a good way.

You both lay down, and you rest on his chest as he puts on some documentary about something you both like. You quickly fall asleep, happy it was with him.

79 notes · View notes