#which is usually fine. except for when my brain decides it's not!

[spinedotlazuli1120]

Things that feel forced to me that I'm sure I'm gonna get a lot of hate for:

1) Cherrisnake

Now, I know a majority of the fandom like this ship but honestly? It feels forced. The original ship involving sir pentious was supposed to be with Rosie, which honestly makes more sense, in a way.

They both have similar styles, Sir Pentious could've originally used his growing relationship with Rosie to find some dirt on Alastor to defeat him, they both aren't that into the whole innuendos thing probably, and sir Pentious can use the help of someone who understands him and his whole stick.

Cherrisnake, however, feels more like a...sped-up background ship that they rushed in order to give Pentious a more "heartbreaking" background by making him leave his "lover". Like, for angst purposes, it works, but not in the way one would usually write. Cherrisnake just feels so toxic. Cherri Bomb never gave a fuck about Pentious, she only ever acknowledged him thanks to Angel, and the kiss at the end? She blushes because "it was kinda hot". It can be interpreted in any way by anyone, but to me, that was just Cherri being her normal self.

Plus, the sudden change in scenery probably contributed to her suddenly blushing and smiling. There was no development seen between the two, they were once "enemies", with Pentious treating it like they ARE actual enemies while Cherri brushed it off like it was nothing.

2) The way fans see everyone in the main cast except Alastor as the true angels in the show

I don't have a problem with the way the show wrote them as, they're fine the way they are. My problem lies in the fandom.

First off, ever since the finale dropped, a majority of the fandom decided to go and say that Alastor was so cocky and stupid for going against Adam and a goddamn traitor for leaving the others to fend for themselves. (This wasn't what was explicitly said, but I know what they all meant)

...the guy put up a fucking barrier to limit the number of exorcists they have to deal with, and Alastor equipped the dome itself with angelic weapons, held tightly by the tentacles. It's obvious they didn't expect Adam to break it, but to them it wasn't their issue to deal with, it was Alastor's.

I don't know what Alastor was thinking when he went up against Adam without an angelic steel, but I for sure know for a fact that if it weren't for the deal that has him leashed, he would be chopping up Adam into cubes to put into his jambalaya.

His defeat against the Fucking First Man made people think he was boasting and lying about his feats and that there's nothing to fear when it comes to me. They often downgrade his ability because of one single defeat of his against a man that's older, bigger, and stronger than him. Yeah, they're both dumbasses but Alastor at least knows when to retreat.

They often compare this singular scene with the multiple clips of the others fighting the exorcists that are the same level as them only with wings. Both the exorcists and the sinners are equipped with angelic steel and all of them have equal advantages, with the angels having wings and the sinners having multiple experiences as well as the princess of hell.

They have each other backing up one another, and they only had to deal with the angels that don't have any powers. Alastor, though? He battled against the first man, the guy with an axe that acts like a guitar and has angelic magic, and he (Adam) is ancient as fuck.

Additionally, Alastor hit more blows on Adam than Charlie ever did, and she's the Fucking Princess of Hell. Fuck you mean "The hotel crew never needed Alastor" he was the only one with a brain there in battle. Look at Sir Pentious

Not only that, but Alastor is the only one viewed as a demon by the fandom despite the show being all about demons. Angel is viewed as a sad spider who didn't do anything wrong to deserve his suffering, Husk is seen as a kitty cat who's been abused the same way angel is, Charlie is literally babies, Vaggie's sins are brushed off as if they were nothing but small mistakes, They fucking see Lucifer as an innocent angel who was sent to hell for no reason other than for "trying to help".

First off, Angel may not deserve the treatment he gets from Valentino, but everything else? Yeah, he deserves it. He died of overdosing, which may have impacted in his consumption of drugs (a.k.a he can't get high with the normal (for others, at least)amount of drugs to get high, so he's stuck trying to. He was part of a mafia, which he probably most likely killed so many people that itight rival Alastor's kill count. He's sexually harassed people on screen, which is a bad coping mechanism, but it's still wrong, similar to how lashing out on others Ang getting mad at them for things they didn't do is wrong.

Husk was an overlord, and he gambled away the souls he owned. Kind of like this: Someone wants to join you in your business, any role you give them, they'll take it as long as they're paid. The person offers something valuable of theirs (which could reveal souch dirt on that person) to make you agree. You agree, but sooner or later, you found yourself in the hands of a crueler 'boss' because your former one sold you in order to make more money and he knows you can't do anything about it unless you want others to get dragged in your problem, be it loved ones, authorities, or not.

Charlie is written as an innocent girl who's too perfect for Heaven, Hell, or Earth. But you need to remember this: She grew up in hell, meaning her morals are gonna be fucked up. She is not a human, she is not a mortal, she is not a child. She may have looked in slight disgust when it came to the bloodshed but it was just a wince, as if she's used to it but she still doesn't like it. She may be naive, but she ain't stupid. Except for the time when she thought an overlord as dumb as Valentino can be talked to in order to fix Ang issue.

For Vaggie, everyone keeps forgetting she killed hundreds per year in one day. Yeah, she may have hesitated to kill that demon child (are we sure it's a child? Cuz there's a possibility that the child is an adult sinner who's punishment is to look like a child), but did she hesitate when it came to the others. Yeah, hurting a kid is fucked up but you know what's worse? Participating in genocide and having the audacity to hide it from your girlfriend. She didn't show any remorse or regret when it came to other sinners, yet she's still seen as sinless

For Lucifer? ...yeah I already ranted about the fucking hypocrite just check out my older post/s about the angelic hypocrite

3) Everyone's obsession with gender in the fandom

Dude, the first time I started giving a fuck about gender other than girl or boy was when folks started to be sensitive with it. And the Hazbin fandom isn't spared. To this day, people fight about the sexualities of people who aren't real, especially Alastor, who doesn't give a fuck about relationships. So why?!

[celiaelise]

Noticed some tanlines and then I started looking at my skin TOO closely and being like, "WHAT DOES THIS SLIGHT DISCOLORATION MEAN??.? 👀" (almost certainly nothing 🙄)

Anyway I feel anxious and adrift and it's like 100% bc I've barely eaten today! Let's see if I can find the willpower to change that....

[missqhughes]

HATE TO WANT YOU | Q. HUGHES43

-> quinn hughes x fem!reader

-> includes: smut with plot, dom!quinn, fingering, unprotected sex, sexual themes, use of y/n, intended lowercase, platonic fem!reader x luke & jack

-> IN WHICH: y/n loves her best friend luke with all her heart, but there’s one person she can’t stand; his brother. she can’t take it anymore; in a confrontation with quinn, he can’t help but drop his facade and give her everything he’s always wanted to.

-> sexxxxyyyy request anon thank you! i too want quinn to hate me and then fuck me senseless. drooling. love it as much as i do! mwah

*fic is not proofread

18+ CONTENT BELOW THE CUT

this wasn’t y/n’s first summer with the hughes brothers.

and it wasn’t her first at the lake house.

ever since they bought it, she’d been there every summer since.

she loved the hughes family, especially her best friend luke. all of them treating her like their own, all except quinn.

and now she stood in the living room, leisurely on her phone, when a rough shoulder shoves past her,

“can you not stand in the middle of hallway? always in the fucking way…” quinn mumbled, ruffling his hair whilst disappearing into the pool room.

y/n scoffed, trying to appear unphased by quinn’s attitude.

quinn had it out for her for so long she couldn’t even remember a time he didn’t act like he hated her. shoving her roughly whenever they all would play together, putting spiders on her body in the summer when he knew she was afraid, and god, all his rude comments galore.

she shook out of her thoughts, making her way to luke’s room, knocking five times to signal to the other that it was them.

“come in!”

she didn’t bother creaking open the door, luke was sitting on his computer playing video games, her flinging herself onto his bed. y/n sighed, causing him to pause his focus and face her,

“what’s wrong? you never just dramatic sigh for nothing.”

she sat up, scrunching her nose before answering, “have you ever noticed… that like… do you think quinn hates me?”

luke gave her a look, “hates you? like genuinely?”

“yes.”

for some corrupt reason in her mind, he started laughing at her question,

“luke! it’s not funny! i’m being serious.”

luke held is stomach, his laughter dying down a bit, “he just treats you like a little sibling that’s all. plus why do you care what quinn thinks? you’ve never brought it up before.”

his words stirred in her brain. sure, she had never mentioned it, but deep down it bothered her and she couldn’t exactly pinpoint why.

because it was just plain rude?

because she couldn’t stand up for herself?

because she found quinn attractive?

thinking about it all made her chest feel weird.

“i don’t care. i mean, i guess i do, i don’t want my best friends brother to hate me for the rest of our lives,” y/n sighs, laying back down on luke’s messy sheets.

he removed his headset and sat next to her, patting her leg affectionately,

“dude you’re fine, i promise he doesn’t hate you, lighten up okay? you’re freaking me out,”

the two giggled softly at his comment, y/n feeling better with luke’s reassurance but not quite. nonetheless, she decided to ignore it.

“sorry, sorry, can’t be mopey here. let’s go down to the dock yeah?”

luke’s smile grew, “race you down there?” he lightly shoved her off his bed, out of his bedroom,

“i’ll beat you to it lukey!”

——————————————————————————

y/n did beat luke down to the dock, only to be met with quinn.

and only quinn.

not even picking up his head to look at her, quinn continued to scroll on his phone as y/n laid her towel down.

“y/n.”

“hello quinn.”

the awkward silence sat between them per usual when this sort of thing happened, when they were finally in a weird position of being alone together. y/n put her sunglasses on, feeling quinn’s glare branding her skin every time he looked at her.

in time to save her, luke ran down, towel and speaker in hand.

“damn it!” he huffed, completely out of breath and throwing his things down next to hers in defeat. she giggled, and saw quinn rolling his eyes out of the corner of hers.

quinn cleared his throat, getting up off the chair, “well now that the peace and quiet is gone, i’m going up. see you guys for dinner.” and with that, he disappeared up to the house.

luke waved off his brother, focused on his phone picking a song. y/n watched until she knew quinn was out of sight, then shoved luke hard in the shoulder,

“shit y/n, what the hell was that for?”

“i told you he hates me. he literally just went up as soon as i came down!”

“dude, he went up because he knew we’re gonna play music and you know how he is. seriously what’s up with you? you’re way too bothered by this.”

she rolled her eyes at him, not really being able to exactly articulate why she felt the way she did. at least not to him.

“i told you already i just don’t want him hating me for the rest of our lives,”

“want me to ask?”

y/n’s eyes widened, shoving luke once more, “no! that’s so embarrassing luke don’t,”

he shoved her back, “then YOU ask him, jesus! ask him after dinner or something,”

she laid on her side, facing him with contemplation in her eyes, he shrugged in response, “doesn’t hurt to say somethin,”

“okay fine, but if i’m totally right then i’m blaming you.”

after soaking up the hot summer sun, y/n and luke retreated back into the house. both exhausted, they parted their ways until dinner.

not another body was sighted in the house, and thinking quinn and jack went to the store, she went down to the kitchen to get a drink, restoring the energy the sun brought out of her.

she grabbed a coke from the fridge, hearing footsteps behind her she turned her head around, and there was quinn.

she all of a sudden felt very exposed in front of him her small bikini, especially alone in the kitchen. it’s different on the dock, you’re not supposed to be wearing barely nothing inside.

she turned her head back, hearing quinn let out a long exhale as he slipped past her, likely annoyed by just her simply being in his vicinity. the tension still stood thick between them, and in the discomfort y/n made a break for her room, not looking back.

——————————————————————————

she tried to get through dinner as normal, but y/n couldn’t control the bouncing in her leg, the anxiety of asking quinn the dreaded question manifesting through the rest of her body.

after everyone was done, her and luke stood beside each other doing dishes, him giving her a slight nudge when quinn left and settled with jack in the living room.

“so are you gonna say something?” he whispered, barely loud enough for her own ears to pick up,

“yeah i will, just not right now. not when there’s an audience,” she said wiping her hands, waiting for luke to finish up.

“you guys wanna watch a movie?” jack’s voice echoed,

“yeah we’re coming!” luke replied, waving her over to walk with him. they sat on the two available chairs, while jack and quinn occupied the couch.

jack had already picked something out, and even though it had just started, she felt eyes peering at her. y/n continued to look over at luke, who was focused on the screen, thinking it was him. she looked over at jack, who was in the same boat as his younger brother, then eventually landing at quinn.

his jaw ever so slightly squeezed tighter when her eyes met his, wandering his piercing eyes to the tv. she shuffled in the chair, attempting to mend the discomfort she felt.

——————————————————————————

with about an hour left of the movie, jack stretched, yawning as he sat up from the couch, “i’m gonna go to bed, i’m exhausted, night everyone,”

everyone said goodnight back as he left, leaving just the three of them behind.

this time, luke was looking over at y/n, and when her glance met his, she saw him looking at the situation in front of him, seeing the idea formulate in his head.

y/n looked at him with a pleading face, begging for him not to put the pressure on her right then and there, but he ignored,

“you guys can finish the movie without me, i’m lowkey really tired too.”

“luke,” y/n began, slightly weary,

“goodnight,” he said quickly, jogging to his bedroom, as fast and as least suspicious as possible. she fell back in the plush chair gently, avoiding even looking in quinn’s direction.

they sat there, she was sure neither of them were even watching, and decided that it was enough,

“can i ask you something?” she breathed out, feeling like the air from her lungs came with her words.

quinn turned his head to look at her, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, not expecting her to say anything,

“what?”

“why do you not like me?”

the questioned lingered in the air for far longer than she felt okay with. feeling frustrated, she got up, cursing at herself internally for even asking him such a question,

“wait,”

she doesn’t, instead marches straight to her room, not stopping when she hears footsteps behind her.

she gets halfway down the hallway just at the staircase before a gasp leaves y/n’s breath when she feels herself be spun around and pinned onto the wall.

quinn pins her by the hips, eyes staring deep into her own, an unreadable expression on his face.

“you didn’t let me finish.”

“then finish.” she spat back, done with his antics and still embarrassed about leaving her hanging in the living room.

“i was going to say i don’t hate you, before you ran away like a scared little kid.”

she scoffed, not believing a word he said when he just had to throw in an insult in.

“you really expect me to believe that? you’ve done nothing but torn into me since the day we’ve met. i don’t get it, i’ve done nothing to you quinn. nothing.”

he let her words soak into him, taking in all of herself in front of him, admiring it internally.

“it’s not you as a person i hate.” he said, the placement on her hips unwavering,

“so you do hate me,” she kissed her teeth, “then what is it quinn? what do you hate about me that isn’t just me?”

his breathing was hard yet steady, thinking over his next words,

“for one,”

his grip tightened,

“i hate that you’re talking back to me right now,”

y/n’s heart rate picked up,

“i hate how fucking hot you look when you dance around in practically nothing all day,”

his hands moved up slightly,

“i hate how much lukey loves you, how you’re all his and-”

“-luke and i will never be that,” she stopped him, not wanting him, or anyone for that matter, to think her and luke were anything more than friends.

“not what i meant. he gets to spend all this time with you, here there everywhere, and it makes me hate you.”

she felt her heartbeat everywhere in her body, ears hot and arousal seeping through her with his words.

y/n swallowed, “why does that make you hate me?” she whispered, falling into this version of quinn right before her eyes.

“because i hate that i want you, you of all people,” he said lowly, face moving close enough to where their breaths could mingle, crossing territories neither of them have dared to even look at with each other.

“if you don’t like this, tell me. if it’s too much, tell me to stop,” his hands felt around her waist, a different kind of tensions between them now, with only air and opportunity separating them.

“don’t, don’t stop,” she let out, closing her eyes in anticipation for him. and boy, did it come.

quinn’s lips hooked on to hers, primal and eager to explore her mouth. his lips spoke louder than his voice ever could.

y/n’s hands worked their way up from his shirt covered abs to his face, holding it in her hands while he kissed her in a way that told her it wasn’t just her lips he was going to be tasting.

he savored every time his teeth sunk into her plump bottom lip, gently tugging and feeling himself grow harder with the soft noises she let out whenever he did so.

quinn walked them to the couch, and he pulled away to push her down softly, y/n looking at up at him, needy and wanting more. he wasted no time in diving down to kiss her again, his hand finding its way down her shorts.

he smiled devilishly when he was met with a damp spot in her underwear, knowing she was fully soaked underneath,

“already fucking dripping for me huh? m’sure you’ve wanted this,” he mumbled against her lips, feeling her moan on his when he started rubbing her clit through her clothed core.

he pulled away, wanting to see how she looked withering under his teases. y/n’s bottom lip was between her teeth, one of her hands gripping onto quinn’s tshirt,

“mm, quinn, need your hands inside me,”

he knew it too, craving for his fingers to fuck her pussy and make a mess on his hand.

he peeled off her shorts, mouth almost watering seeing her pussy drip through her panties. he moved them to the side, running his ring and middle fingers between her folds before plunging them into her.

y/n covered her mouth, knowing the guttural moan that was going to escape her lips was uncontrollable. her back arched as he curled his fingers, using his thumb to circle her clit at a pace soon to send her over the edge.

her grip on his shirt caused her knuckles to turn white, and he felt her clench around his fingers, close to her release,

“yeah that’s it… cum for me, y/n,”

she panted, legs shaking slightly as the tightness in her stomach loosed, her juices glistening all over his hand as he pumped into her through her high.

quinn brought his hands up to lick his fingers, cleaning her off of them,

“you taste so fucking good, god i need you,”

y/n grabbed the nape of his neck, pulling him in for another kiss, drunken off quinn making her cum so quick.

“fuck me, quinn hughes. fuck me like you hate me.”

those words were enough for him, effortlessly he threw her over his shoulder, grabbing her shorts and carrying her up towards his room, the one place in the house she had never been.

he put her down on his bed, y/n taking in every part of quinn’s room, a sight she had yet to look at.

he was sure as hell neater than luke, little canucks things here and there as well as small things he’s collected over the years. it was cute to her to see the difference in how he acted vs his safe space, even a small teddy bear resting on his dresser.

her mind went back to reality when she heard the door click, quinn turning back to crawl on top of her on his bed.

he slightly pushed her legs apart, y/n hooking them around his waist instinctively, his mouth trailing hot kisses down her jaw and neck.

y/n felt her core growing burning hot, squeezing her legs tight around his waist, desperate for friction on her core.

“you needy huh? turn around.”

y/n obliged, but not before taking off her shirt, whilst facing quinn, seeing his adam’s apple shift when she was left in just a bra and underwear.

she turned around, sticking her ass high in the air for him, quinn admiring her arch pulled her panties down her legs, a bead of arousal following with.

he couldn’t wait any longer, he stripped off all his layers of clothing, pumping his stiff dick leaking with precum before aligning himself with her.

at first he pumped slowly, just to get himself fully inside, but after that he slammed into her, erotic noises emitting from the muffled sheets whilst he fucked her senseless.

quinn groaned at the feeling of y/n around his dick, squeezing it perfectly every time he pounded her in just the right spot.

she gripped his sheets hard, feeling herself come undone underneath him, whimpering into the bed with pleasure.

quinn snaked his around her neck, pulling her up by it and fucking her harder,

“you like it— shit, when i fuck you like this?”

“fuck oh my god, yes quinn, mm,”

he pushed her back into the bed, his thrusts become sloppy and untamed, dick twitching as he let go inside of her, warm release coating the inside of her pussy.

quinn flipped her back over, kissing her cheek before collapsing next to her on the bed, both still buzzing from sex.

“quinn?”

“yeah?” he replied, still trying to catch the rhythm in his lungs,

“i don’t think you hate me anymore,” y/n said, breathlessly laughing as she closed her eyes, also trying to regain herself.

he chuckled softly, handing her clothes back to her before putting on his own.

“as much as i’d like you to stay,” he said, running a hand through his now messed up hair, “you should go back to your room, wouldn’t want lukey having a heart attack seeing you come out of my room in the morning huh?”

she shuddered at just the thought of it, “absolutely not,” she stood up, shaky legs carrying her to his door, quinn right behind,

“but between us, you’ll be back in here tomorrow night.”

——————————————————————————

© missqhughes

xoxo, kaia

[vonbabbitt]

big long kamimura loredrop that i sent to my tetro staff two years ago. obvious spoilers and trigger warning for a lot of stuff. not for the weak of heart. also forgive the very casual tone this is written in i was sending it to my STAFF!! MY FRIENDS!! it has not been curated for public release lol

KAMIMURA KAZUTOSHI. WOW. LOTS TO UNPACK HERE. so kamimura was born as a very sickly kid. his parents were initially planning to have two kids, but when kamimura was born with very particular needs, they decided it would be better to dedicate their full time and attention to just one kid. so thats what they did! kamimura was born with a few conditions that made his childhood a bit rougher, the main of which being hemophilia, an (at the time) unidentified autoimmune disease and a few lesions on his brain. not ideal! so he was in and out of the hospital a lot as a kid, something that was very scary for him at the time, but his parents were very very supportive and loving during this time. they would be at the hospital with him every single time he had to be there (obvs cuz he was a tiny baby boy) and his mom would not go home until he was discharged. she would always be there telling him stories and playing games with him and doing her best to make the experience as comfortable as possible for him. so that made it less scary!

kamimura had a very good support system and it made him a very happy and social kid! he grew up very outgoing and playful and eager and close with his family. his dad was a busy guy who worked in tech, so while he was usually at work, his mom worked from home as a copy editor, so he spent a lot of time with her. as he started to get a little older (7-8), a few more comorbidities and diagnoses started popping up - chronic fatigue, crohns, some vision problems, muscle issues, things that made his life a lot more difficult and worried his parents because he was getting bad fast. this meant a lot more time in the hospital for baby kamimura which is very unfortunate for him. eventually he gets put on a new balance of medications/treatments and his family keeps doing their best because goddamnit their kid should get to be a happy kid! which he is! hes a very happy kid! hes just also a kid with a LOT of medical issues

SO THEN WE HIT AGE NINE. kamimuras mother is home alone with him when a close family friend drops by. hes someone kamimura knows very well - comes to all their parties, visits often, etc etc. but he was also someone who had very strong feelings towards kamimuras mom. he had confessed to her multiple times and obviously she had said no because she is married with a child and was not interested at all. except this time hes completely fed up with it. she says no, he gets aggressive and violent and tries to overpower her. she fights back, he panics and stabs her. a lot. repeatedly. over and over and over. so the kitchen is an absolute bloodbath. not good! a few minutes into this, kamimuras dad gets home from work and is very quickly added to the body count. family friend runs, and about ten minutes later, kamimura gets home from school.

so now this nine year old boy has walked in on his parents mutilated bodies lying in a sea of blood on the kitchen floor. his mind basically shuts down. he cannot even begin to process the ways in which his entire world has just come crumbling down. he goes upstairs to his room, closes the door, and proceeds to stay there for two days straight. if he can just stay in his room and not go outside, no matter what he saw, no matter what he smells, he can pretend that everything is fine and theres nothing downstairs.

after two days of this, kamimura's dad's work calls for a wellness check. a wellness check is performed! EVERYTHING IS NOT WELL. the police find kamimura, remove him from the house and into the system he goes. pretty soon he ends up living with his moms sister, who isnt a mean person or anything, but she never wanted kids and shes just lost her sister and shes going through a lot so she never really connects with kamimura. she feeds him and houses him and does her best, but hes completely shut off emotionally and very traumatized and wants nothing to do with this new life thats been put on him so he mostly ignores her and just goes through the beats of life.

from this point on, he has no friends. he doesnt get close to anyone. he doesnt try to. he shuts himself off, keeps to himself and gets picked on a bit because of it. hes outcast at school pretty quickly and that does not do much to help his mental health. it doesnt help that his PHYSICAL health is still deteriorating pretty fast and hes now living with somebody that has NO experience in taking care of his medical needs. hes still in the hospital all the time, but now hes alone and its quiet and hes scared. he hates hospitals. he hates going to the hospital so so so so much because hospitals are scary and it only serves to drive home the complete lack of his mom existing that is haunting him every day. it doesnt help that hiding out in a corpse house for two days has given him a deep, DEEP fear of anything dirty or putrid in the way that his parents' crime scene was. this evolves into a pretty bad case of germophobia that makes him hate hospitals even more because theyre disgusting infected places where people go to die and rot. bad.

but life continues! so when he turns 14, kamimura goes to high school for the first time! its also around this time that he finally dyes his hair - his black hair makes him look exactly like his mom and he cant handle seeing that every time he looks in the mirror, so blue it is! because blue does not look like either of his parents and now he doesnt have to fking see their faces every single time he looks at himself. yay! so he enters high school, his mental health is tanking, his physical health is tanking and everything is bad. high school is equally bad because hes still getting bullied and he feels sick all the time and school is stressful and he is completely lacking in socialization. so at age 14, kamimura tries to kill himself for the first time. it does not work. he goes to the hospital and very hastily explains it to his aunt as having simply fucked up his own medication and says it was all an accident because fuuuuck he does NOT want to be institutionalized. that would suck. and luckily this excuse works and he's back out in the world soon after. yay?

anyway life goes on! so kamimura goes back to school. except weirdly enough, he actually starts talking to another person. this person is named isao kamei and he is a boy in kamimuras grade! hes nice and cool and hangs out with kamimura and likes kamimuras dumb blue hair and likes all the things kamimura likes (scary movies. breaking random shit behind the school after class. yknow) so the two hit it off pretty quickly and soon kamimura has a best friend. except, uh oh, maybe hes more than a best friend?? kamimura starts realizing that hes got feelings for isao and panics because he does not need this complication ruining his one and only friendship. kamimura has had severe severe trust issues for years now and has finally let himself get close to another person again and he CANNOT LOSE THAT. but isao is a good guy, and theyre close, and kamimura is starting to think that isao feels the same way about him so maybe hed be cool about it. it goes against every instinct he has spent the past five years cultivating, but he finally works up the nerve and admits to isao how he feels about him.

IT GOES BADLY. SO BADLY. isao is uncomfortable and frankly kind of disgusted and pulls back HARD. he basically distances himself from kamimura forever and word very very quickly spreads (starting from isao) that kamimura is gay and that he asked out isao, something that absolutely quadruples the amount of bullying he is receiving. so a few days later, kamimura tries to kill himself for the second time. once again it does not go well. he gets very very very sick, but still wakes up in the end and is absolutely miserable and furious about it. his awful awful awful life continues to march on as always and hes back at school pretty soon after that! he continues getting relentlessly bullied, his health continues to deteriorate, and finally during one of his numerous numerous hospital visits he gets hit with two fun new terms: multiple sclerosis and myasthenia gravis. these are the two things that produce the vast majority of his symptoms. so at the very least he now has a few words to label himself with, but hes not really that thrilled about it either way. kamimura is someone with a lot of internalized ableism and resentment towards his own body. he sees it as the reason his life sucks and the reason he gets bullied and the reason he cant live like other people can. he hates himself, and that makes him hate himself even more because his parents always made such a big deal about telling him how much they loved him and how much he should love himself, so he feels like hes betraying them by absolutely loathing himself and his body.

so at sixteen, he tells his aunt he wants to move out. they arent close and he just wants to be on his own and honestly shes on board with this because she never wanted kids and shes ready to go back to her life. so out the door he goes! hes got his own apartment now, which means theres nobody to make him get out of bed or shower or eat or go to school. so he stops doing all of those things, which makes his health deteriorate faster and makes him even more miserable. so at age sixteen, kamimura makes a third attempt on his life. he learned his lesson last time and ups the dosage hard. except he cant keep it down because he hasnt been eating anything for like two weeks and his stomach just physically cannot handle the amount of medication hes ingesting. so this one fails too. but life goes on and kamimura needs to pay rent! his landlord thinks he is strange and concerning and wants to help him so he manages to get kamimura an apprenticeship with a man named ryōichi katō, a very experienced crime scene cleaner! kamimura EXCELS in this field. hes able to shut off his emotions around blood and viscera - his brain just completely blocks out the horror of it, which is almost a coping mechanism i suppose - but the point is that hes great at it. he starts working full time and it pays the bills well enough so hes got nothing to complain about quite frankly.

except his life still sucks. hes alone. hes sick. he hates himself. everything is bad bad bad bad bad. so at a particularly bad mental low at age seventeen, kamimura makes a fourth attempt on his life. this one has GOT to work because he has been honing this method for years now and SURELY he has worked out the kinks by this point yes? so he downs a shitton of pills, washes it down with cheap booze and passes out. then he wakes up in the Fujioka Memorial High School Basement Laundry Room and now we are here

[christinebloodwrittings]

Hi, I was wondering if you could do an Alastor x Reader, where Reader and Alastor are about to get married, but the day before their wedding, Alastor mysteriously disappears. On their bed lays a note: “I’m sorry, I had to leave.”?

Heart in debt

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader Summary: "Until death do us apart" turned into a "Until I see you again in hell", when Alastor, for unknown reasons, decided to become a runaway groom. Warnings: Gore, bit of angst.

Sorry for the delay dearest, this work took 4 drafts and a lot of re-write, I hope the result is to your liking :3.

The venue was reserved in advance, your mother had chosen the perfect location for you. The catering service was already paid for, as was the florist, band and cake.

Everything was ready.

Looking back, as you finished getting ready for bed, with your nerves on edge, you remembered how your parents reacted when you told them you were getting married.

The best couple ever, welcomed your fiancé, Alastor, as if they had recognized the plague made person. The permanent smile, the aura of death, and well, something they saw in him made them act defensively.

However, of course, your father loved you more than anything in life, so since the ring was of high quality, he had a house on his name, he could provide for you and assure you a future with children, he had no choice but to swallow his opinions and daydream the day when you say he can shoot his brains out.

It was distasteful to you that your father wanted to kill your fiancé, but you knew he loved you and as long as he was with you, Alastor would be fine.

And he was waiting in bed, with his glasses on the edge of his nose, busy with a book. "Excuse me, madam, but if you hold the rifle like that, you will hurt yourself due to the force of the recoil" you remembered your first interaction, his voice was as soft as silk, manners polished up to perfection.

“Then, what would you say is the best way?”  you suspected he was going to say something mannish and arrogant, most man didn’t believed women could do nothing except cooking and breed children, judging by the eat shitting grin he was wearing, you were expecting the worst sexist comment.

Instead he asked your permission to help you, after you said yes, he gently moved your arms upwards to accommodate your position, then gently pulled sideways your hips, “Your support leg must be straight and tight, strong, otherwise you will fall back” then a rustle in the bushes alerted both of you, a white back deer.

“You can do it, aim” he encouraged you, watching the majestic prongs of the deer appear at the distance, “Breathe, don’t rush” his breath on your ear sent a shiver up your spine, “Now!” he spoke, you pulled the trigger, he held you during the push back, that kind of rifle was far too intense, even for him, but it had the enough power to kill the animal just fine.

“Do I have something on my face, dear?” he noticed your stare, smiling softly. You walked to him, pecking his cheek softly, “Now there is” he chuckled, setting his book on the nightstand, then he opened his arms to you, which were soon filled with your figure.

"I can't wait for us to be one" you snuggled against his chest, "Me neither, dearest" he pulled you closer, your hair ticking his nose. "At this hour tomorrow I'll be Mrs. Hartfield, I wish your mother were here to enjoy with us" his mom had passes away when he was a kid, but since your mother was friends with her, you got faint memories of the sweet woman that had raised your soon-to-be husband.

"She probably would have made a joyride out of the planning" his sarcasm got you giggling, "You're so mean" He kissed your temple, enjoying your laughter, "Rather honest, darling".

Nothing could go wrong at the moment, you were in cloud nine, until you woke up and noticed Alastor was gone. It was weird, usually he wouldn't move out of bed until you did. 

“My love, I'm sorry, I  had to leave. I realized I'm not ready. I'll be sending you money to compensate for the expenses. I'm sorry” Signed with his name, his calligraphy on a piece of paper next to his spot.

"Mamma?" You held the telephone life for dear life, barely holding on, "Did something happened my dear? You sound distressed" yes you were, also were under every type of weather, "He left, he left me a letter, and his clothes are gone" You chocked out on your words, tears falling onto your nightgown.

"Like full closet gone?" At her question you yelled back that he was gone, your heart shattered when you took notice that he even took his radio with him.

"I'll be there in just a moment; I'll make some calls okay?" She reassured you, "What happened?" You father spoke in the background, "Alastor left your daughter on her wedding day" Your mother tried to as delicate as she could, "Bastard! Don't worry baby, if he decides to come back, he's good as dead" he made the click of his shotgun sound against the phone, "I knew that son of a bitch was no good for my princess" he shouted.

"Maybe I did something wrong" you sobbed, "No sweetie, how can you think that? The lad wasn't ready, is no one's fault" Your mother tried to reassured you, but truth to be told, nothing could console you at that moment.

You refused to abandon his house, it was briefly yours before he went away, but the real reason was, that you still had some hope he would at some point come back. When he never did, you abandoned the house to live with your parents.

One night, returning late from your make up job at the speakeasy, you felt a rush, a cold feeling up your spine. Looking into the glass on the other side of the street, you caught the sight of a man, walking fast behind you.

Speeding up the pace, you ventured yourself into the swamp, the bayou. You knew Alastor had a hunting shed where you could at least arm yourself, you only had to run faster. Your heels at one point buried themselves in the mud, you had to continue on foot, a plus point since despite the stones and thorns on the way, you managed to reach the place.

You heard the paces even nearer, in a hurry you forced the lock to break, then took a rifle off the table inside, put three bullets in the chamber, then when the silhouette of your stalker opened up the door, he saw the end of the cannon pointing straight at his head.

“Turn back, leave!” your voice echoed through the trees, the wind eating up your voice quickly, “I will not repeat myself” you threatened, pulling the safety mechanism, “Poor little doll, you think you’re capable to-“ shakily, you fired, he was taken aback, nearly fallen to the ground.

“YOU WHORE!” he yelled, pressing a hand to his shoulder, “Leave, now” the rush that firing him gave you, was a sensation you couldn’t describe. It sent a shock of pleasure down your spine, you liked that feeling, even more so, when the one scared now, was him.

“Human scum” you aimed at his head, “See you in hell” his eyes took a less sharp look, his rage turned into fear, then absolute nothingness wrapped in blood.

Karma was a very ironic lady, when you pulled the man’s body to the lake, you tripped on an underwater root, your body barely above water caught the attention of a beast, and sooner than later, you were devoured by an alligator.

One man, one bloodlust rush sent you to hell.

A hundred years or so, after that incident, after surviving another extermination, hidden in a box in the closet. You felt a presence, something following you, you turned a corner, gun in hand, prepared to defend yourself if necessary.

When the footsteps stopped on the other side of the building, a shadow peeked its face towards you, the smile he was wearing was an amused one, especially when he saw you pointing the gun at him.

A slight unusual sound, seemingly a laugh, followed by its hand taking yours, only to leave a gentle kiss on your knuckles. “Rather dashing, are you not?” your fear was not yet dissipated, but it was so gentle, offering its arm to walk you down the street.

“I’ve been eager to salute you, though I must say, you are rather hard to find” his voice was merely a whisper, “Am I supposed to know who you are?” he stopped in his tracks, “My most sincere apologies, but I don’t own a name, I’m simply a reflection, a shadow of a man” it seemed sad, yet conscious of its existence.

“Does this man, who’s footsteps you should be following, knows me?” he nodded in response, following by a quiet “He does”. You thought back how many men you have consorted with, who might have access or knowledge of umbrakinesis, none came to your mind.

“Am I to be afraid of his intentions?” as any other man you have encountered, you’ve never been able to shake the fear, always having to have a gun attached to your waist, “He has none, he thinks he has hurt you enough, with his sudden absence” he had been prohibited to utter the incident, but he found a way to do so anyways without actually saying ‘Alastor left you, and it pains him every day’.

“Alastor” his name fell off your lips like hasn’t done before, in quite a while, “Will he agree to see me?” you asked, wanting at least an explanation, “He’s not the man you remember” the shadow warned, but you were persistent, “I’d like to see him, if he has a moment he can gift me”.

His nonexistent heart shook in his chest, “I’ll see what I can do” that sentence alone brought you more hope than anything in the world, “Can you do me one more favor? I’ll see that you get compensated” now in your home, you took paper and pen, at the same time that you took a tiny bag off one of your drawers.

“This are three pure gold coins, Spanish ones, Cortéz brought this ones himself” you placed the bag on its hand, “I hope you accept this as payment, to pass him a letter?” he nodded watching you take your quill and start writing to him.

When you were done, you melted a bit of candle wax, sealing your heart in that page, then he left with the letter.

“My dearest friend.

How the time has treated us, I hope will never know. If there was a god up there I shall thank him, for it brought you back to me somehow, however subtle presence that is.

Have you seen the changes? Are you still pursuing your ambitions? How have you been all these years? Many questions flooded my mind, as soon as your name was brought to me for the first time in a century.

If it’s not too much of a bother, I would like to see you, an hour is all I desire.”

I’ll await your answer, in whichever mean you see fit.

While reading the letter, Alastor made a pause, his eyes burning with the old feeling, the same crushing one he was hunted by ever since he left under the mantle of the night.   

“I am not mad at you, I just wish for clearance, closure.

Happy to make your acquaintance whenever you’d like.

Sincerely, Y/n.”

“Take the package with you, and make sure she’s safe” he ordered his shadow, who flew a couple days later to your doorstep.

A box, laced with a red ribbon. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw a radio inside, engraved with flowers and birds in the most exquisite wood that hell could offer. On top of it, there was a note that read “Play me”.

You sat by the fireplace, leaving the radio on the tea table, your shadow friend taking seat beside you while you push the button that was marked.

“One, two, three, testing? Can you hear me, my dear?” his voice was slightly different, there was a lot of static, but you wondered if that was his or the radio’s. “Yes, I can” yours was a melody he had yearn to be blessed with for years, “Wonderful, I had received your letter” your stomach was in tangles, awaiting his thoughts.

 “I do wish to see you, but I have something to tell you first, that may be quite daunting” your breath was caught in your throat, “Go on” you inquired, “The reason why I couldn’t marry you is due my activities in the woods, I am a killer and a cannibal, bringing pain to others grant me pleasure like no other” he laid the truth as plain as it could be, giving that he couldn’t see your eyes directly.

“Oh thank god” he was taken aback by your giggly sigh, “I thought you a…you know, someone that fancy other men” he laughed as well, he found the assumption ridiculous, also he thought strange that you’re so unfazed by his confession.

“You are glad?” you took a moment to find an answer without sounding like you’ve gone mad, “Alastor, are you a man that stalk women down to alleys to feast on their screams?” he answered a firm no to your question, “Are you a man that defiles other women?” another no.

“Do you enjoy killing the scoundrels you hated so much, bullies, the ones that take advantage of the ones with fairer means?” he took a second to pridefully answer “Yes”, you took the shadow’s hand as if it was his, “Then your mother and I can rest in peace, as cruel as you may be Alastor, you still hold your morals high, I cannot say the same regarding your honor” he laughed at the mention of the latter.    

“Did the cat caught your tongue?” he had fell silent for a minute, “No, I haven’t been at a loss of words in a while, is all” the shadow nuzzled against your hand, moving it so it could cup his cheek, “Can I pay you a penny for your thoughts? I think I might be saying it wrong; the young ones say it a lot” you giggled, adding to the ache in his heart.

“I didn’t expect you to be alright with it, it leads me to wonder, why are you down here?” you decided to be just as honest as he was, “I killed a man that had ill intentions towards me, and I liked it a little too much” his smile grew devilishly.

“Did he suffer?” if not, he was going to hunt him to grant the man a second demise, one he would ensure he would regret choosing you as his target. “The fear in his eyes, brought a smile to my face” oh he could not be more in love, he made a wise decision to send the radio, if he had you in front of him, he would’ve devour you entirely.

“How did you died?” he made a silent pray, with some hope that at least your death would not have been painful, “I was alligator food in the bayou, in an attempt to get rid of the body, September 4th, 1929” oh how that fact made a twist in his stomach, just like himself, you were eaten alive.

“I am sorry” you laughed, “For what? Your shed was the most convenient, I killed him with your hunting rifle, like you taught me” he remembered, it was the first time he felt actual pleasure in someone else’s warmth, “I can now stop regretting introducing you to the art of the hunt” the shadow placed a kiss on your temple, “Very much so”.

He felt your skin on his lips from within the connection with the sentient, “Will you join me tomorrow, for tea? I’m helping to rise a hotel with hell’s princess” oh so that’s where he was hiding around, you thought, “Fancy, I must be the one warning you now, I do not look…pleasant, I died in a swamp so I wear that fact in the form of my skin” you admitted.

Water nymphs were pretty, you were somewhat that, only more inclined to an eel. You had a long thin fin for hair, red-yellow spotty skin, sharp teeth, light brown scales covering your hips and torso, not to mention your clear blue eyes, not a choice of color but rather a blind looking hue, much like an eel.  

“Mon coeur, rest assure, I am more concerned of your reaction towards myself” he was to the limit of nearly arranging an emergency visit to Rosie’s for a new wardrobe, “I cannot wait to see you” until you spoke that lovely sentence, “Nor can I, my dear”.

The next day, without a wink of sleep, Alastor creeped behind the princes, after making the many preparations up in his personal bayou. “Charlie, I have a request” he purred, attempting to mask his excitement, “Sure Al, what is it?” the question pinched a curious itch in the princess, “Yeah, you rarely ask for things” added the fallen exterminator.

“I’ll have a guest today, one that I hold in high regards, so I’ll be excused to my room” excitement also brew in the princess itch, “Sure thing Al, no worries” she cheerly smiled at him. It seemed the fact he had company also touched the spider’s curiosity, or rather, surprise.

“Smiles got a date?” he looked in quite shock towards the feline bartender, who could do nothing more than scoff, “That’s impossible, it must be another soul he wants to own” he soon swallowed his own words given that Alastor materialized next to him, “Husker! Your best whiskey please” the way he utter the name of the former overlord was a warning laced with a threat.

Later that afternoon, a knock made Charlie sprint towards the door, outrunning Niffty. “Hello, I’m Y/n, lovely  to meet you, I’m here to see Alastor” you courtesy at the sight of the princess of hell, “Of course, come, come” who eagerly took your hand and pulled you inside, “He’ll be down in a minute”.

She had you sat in the lobby, with the company of Angel and Vaggie, “Sorry if I’m too curious, but how do you know Alastor?” Charlie began the small talk, ever so politely, “If he’s as mysterious as he was in life, your curiosity is well within your right, he’s a dearest friend of mine” the princess was impressed to know her host had more friends than that sleazy woman, Mimzy.

“Aww, how nice!” she also told you that there was no need for any more manners towards her, though you insisted giving the way you were taught ever since you were a child.

“Y/n” your name rolled off his tongue like the beginning of a poem, “Alastor” you turned your head around, before standing up, watching closely as he would not break eye contact with you, as he made his way around the couch.  

“Now those two were not just friends” Vaggie had a sly smile on her face, “That sexual tension is delicious” Angel added watching just how slowly Alastor brought your hand up to lay a kiss on your fingers. Your chest rising noticeably from your tight corset, the excitement was palpable indeed.

“Well if I must atone to the intrigue, she was my fiancé” an audible gasp filled the room, “Now, if you’ll excuse us” since never let go of your hand, he was able to swiftly place it on his forearm as he guided you to the stairs, “Princess, bye friends” you curtsied as you followed him along.  

He had arranged a white set of garden table and chairs, an ensemble of various sweets and meat treats displayed, along with a set of cups and plates in a remarkable shade of blue.

“Oh, Alastor this is exquisite! You shouldn’t have” you knew the meat was for him, he was never a fan of sweets, but you were, “Of course I had, please have a seat” he pulled your seat for you, pushing it ever so gently when you were already seated.

“Always so gallant” pride rose to his face in the form of a subtle rose color, he managed to hide it when his shadow came from a corner to give you a hug, “Oh hello you, he’s so cute, how come he doesn’t have a name?” if you didn’t knew better you would’ve thought that Alastor had gone green from envy, seeing his shadow receive more pets and attention than himself.

“It didn’t cross my mind, he wants you to do so” he sat in front of you as his tone grew bitter, “Alistair would be repetitive, I think William is the best bet” it intoned a purr, your hands caressing the base of its ears, “He likes it”.

He took the time you were distracted to prepare your cup of tea, adding just the right amount of sugar and mint leaves, that gesture brought your attention back to him, “You remember how I like my tea?” he had done that almost as a reflex, “Somethings never leave the mind” he admitted almost impressed with himself.

“You don’t look half as bad as your warning” you scoffed at his confession, “Don’t lie” you rolled your eyes earning a laugh from him, “I’m not”, but even with his sincerity you were conscious of your appearance, “Alastor, I’m part fish, I have scales, for crying out loud” from across the table he took your hand in his, “And I’m a deer, so? Could be worse” he had a point, you had seen the dreadful appearance of some rat demons, “Uhm, maybe you’re right”.

“Why did you leave?” after a long silence, accompanied by the sounds of the bayou, you decided to break the peace, addressing the ‘elephant in the room’. “I was afraid I would hurt you; you knew my step-father and now, my affairs” you were aware he had been raised by the end of a whip due to the monster his mother married, who you briefly met when your mother had tea with his.

“Alastor, you could never” he may be a killer, but you were certain he would never raise a hand to harm you, “You don’t know that, I am this, Y/n” it was your turn to give him a reassuring squeeze to his hand, “Did you loved me?” his eyes, quite more honest than the permanent smile he wore, widen to your question.

“I would’ve done anything to prevent harm from coming your way” you scoffed, “Yes, but did you loved me?” he let go of a breath he had trapped down in his lungs when he finally admitted the truth: “I still do”, but there was more to it, “I feel as…as if I had a debt to you, one I have no idea how to repay, nothing I think is enough” and indeed he had a mental list, burning hell to the ground was the top one choice.

“Is your hand one of the options? Your heart, perhaps?” the wish to wipe his head on the pavement had vanished a long time ago, forgiveness was perhaps the toughest thing to accomplish, but your pride wasn’t that big.

“Is not enough” he shook his head, believing that his heart was either too small or nonexistent, “It would, with time, you do owe me a century” you didn’t wanted to let go of his hand, it was the first long contact from him on years, “I’m…not worthy of you” he tortured himself ten times more than hell already did, but you just shrugged, “Who is then, if it’s not you?”.

“You didn’t marry anyone after I left?” you certainly didn’t, “No” he had imagine you at least could love someone again, be happy, “Why?” but you held him in your heart until the very day you died,  “Silly hope” that broke him, if he had a choice, his smile would’ve fade in a heartbeat.

“I’m sorry” he pulled gently of your hand, leading to sit across his lap, “Water under the bridge” he delight himself in your hand caressing his cheek, lightly, almost asking for permission, when unknowingly he was yours.

“Not for me” he pressed his ears to the back of his head, allowing you to caress him, as his arms hugged your figure close to his chest. “We have eternity, if you’ll have me” he was so glad you mentioned that option, it gave him the opportunity to pull from his pocket a beautiful diamond ring, rose gold.

“Your mother’s ring?” you were in shock at the same time as excited, yet scared as well, “Will you leave again?” he cupped your cheek, placing a kiss near the corner of your mouth, “Hell will freeze over first” you imitated his gesture, “Then, you can ask” his smile softened.

“Y/n, will you marry me?” just as he slipped the ring on your finger, you whispered in his ear, “I’ll have your head if you leave again, yes” sending a shiver down his spine, “Please do” a kiss sealed the engagement just like the first time he had ask.  

[deadpool15]

Let me

Beautiful. The only word fit to describe the Targaryen’s as a whole. They are viewed if nothing above society. Closer to the gods than men, as many would like to say. Though there is something quite different when it comes to Aemond Targaryen. The man is gorgeous, the most beautiful specimen you’ll ever encounter. There are times where I realize I don’t compare to such beauty or the royal life in general. You see, I have indeed grown from the silence and embarrassment I faced upon arrival. “You are to be wedded, a fine gentleman if I do say so myself. A match meant to bring forth unity for both houses. Securing us many things across Westeros.”

The words that had changed my life, in which I didn’t know at the time would mean for the better or worse. The life of status is quite new to me, from a certain age the idea of being a proper lady had been instilled in my brain. Then, a match as my grandfather believed the gods before us made themselves came along, the prince of House Targaryen wanted a wife. Aemond was the silent type, one couldn’t exactly understand what was going on with him. He was a tough one to figure out, and I was anything but patient except when it came to him. My dragon.

Watching as Aemond stepped into our chambers putting down his sword. He spent majority of his time training, I never blamed him for it, especially since he has started training me secretly. It took a while before I fully convinced him into the idea but with a few tricks up my sleeve if you know what I mean, he was on board. He starts to remove his tunic, leaving him in nothing but a pair of trousers. “It almost feels as if I’ve been waiting for hours, maybe centuries, dear husband.” He looks up so exhausted, it seems his usual high perception was gone. Not taking notice of me sitting up in our bed. He breaks out into a small smile.

That smile, it gives me peace. Anxiety and pain are forgotten, replaced with nothing but thoughts of Aemond. “It seems, you’ve decided to retire quite early to the bed chamber, haven’t you, gevī?” He moves toward the bed, caging me beneath his arms. “Yes, it seems that way. Yet, once I got here there was an absence of one’s presence. A person meant to ensure safety and warmth, but they aren’t in this very bed with me right now. If you would like a little help husband, there is currently no one blonde laying in this bed with me for our usual activities. Know any blondes?” Looking at him with a coy smirk he laughs at my statement.

A laugh only I can pull from him. Gives me a sense of grace, that only I have that power over him. “I would hope the only blonde you need is currently in the room with you. He says grabbing my chin firmly. Pushing him on the bed to sit beside me and whisper, “I would think we have the same person in mind, my dragon”. I grab a hold of his face, “in order to make this easier I would enjoy if you are the most comfortable, so let’s just remove this.” As I reach for his eyepatch, he takes a hold of my hand firmly. The other gripping my waist. “It’s just me husband, no one is here to judge or ridicule you. Even if they were they would have to go through me if they wished to talk about such lies.” I tell him while looking directly at his eyes. “They wouldn’t be lies.” He said quickly.

Grabbing both his hands firmly I place kisses on the inside of each palm. I wish for nothing but him to be his true self with me. To know I love him deeply. “You are the most beautiful man I’ve ever witnessed. Any woman should be lucky I even allow them to glance in your direction.” He laughs again, though this time it’s a full belly laugh. Coming straight from the depths of his throat. “You allow them, is that it little wife.” I start to place kisses all over his eye and then I remove the patch, this time he doesn’t stop me. Simply sits there basking in the glory. I grab my special tools. Whisking a brush hidden behind my back, slowly but surely start to smooth out the tangles and knots in his hair.

He finally takes notice of my appearance, a think silk nightgown. Leaving almost nothing to the imagination. For the right person, of course. He smiled holding me closely and placed a kiss on my shoulder blade. “I love you both.” I stop moving the brush, running my hands through his hair. Feels of silk. Glancing down to look at my growing belly and then back at him. Realizing this is paradise. Pulling him even closer, “I love you both as well, my love.”

[solarsleepless]

hello all

basically, i'm going to be watching bsc episodes and listing down the autistic traits i see in kristy. i may have a bonus part for the other girls but i'm mainly going to be focusing on kristy as she is my favourite.

without further ado, let's do this

Episode 1

right off the bat we get the line "I was doing the most talking, as per usual." autistic people have a tendency to dominate conversations or to "monologue"

also, mary anne is kristy's only friend at the very beginning. most autistic people find it challenging to make any new friends, both due to any communicative issues and because they don't want to change up their routine. kristy is clearly just fine with having only mary anne as a friend, which is shown in later episodes

"it was boiling in there, like surface of venus levels hot and he just kept droning on and on" autistic people are wayyy more prone to sensory issues than most other people, and that can include temperature, especially if they start sweating, which for many people causes sensory distress. autistic people also find it hard to concentrate for a myriad of possible reasons, including filtering out information our brains deem 'irrelevant' even if they're not

"If he was such a genius, why didn't he say all people?" autistic people tend to have a strong sense of justice and a black and white view of things, having very clear ideas of what is right and wrong in their head. yes, kristy's a feminist, but her willingness to correct him without a care for manners reads as autistic to me

"except apparently, i raised my voice, and didn't raise my hand." manners, even well remembered ones like raising your hand, can sometimes be forgotten by autistic people if it's something they're passionate about: in this case, kristy's need for correction and fairness overrode that

"[the boys in the back are] wiping sweat on each other, but somehow, i'm the disruptive one" autism in AFABs is often seen as being rude or disruptive despite them often just being passionate about the subject. also, sensory issues again?

"claudia and mary anne and i used to hang out all the time. but that was before claudia decided she was more into boys and clothes than us." another example of how kristy has had very few people in life she considers friends and has stuck with them for most of her life. also, possible rejection sensitive dysphoria made kristy see it as bigger than it actually is, because they seem to be fine when they interact, like nothing happened

in the next scene, we see kristy helping david michael with a puzzle. puzzles are often enjoyed by autistic people due to being structured, logical, visual and with a clear end, all of which are treasured aspects of things for autistic people.

stimming!!! lots of stimming. when explaining her new concept which she has clearly quickly hyperfixated on, we see her pacing and fidgeting with her hands as well as gesturing. also, having a strong moral code and wanting to put in effort for kids to be happy

she seems pretty startled when stacey appears, and is a little upset when it's obvious claudia has told her about the club idea: autistic people find it hard to find their footing after their expectations of how something would go are thrown off, but kristy's new hyperfixation overrules this change of plans

even though her need to infodump and talk about this new idea made her not lose her cool, she's visibly still unsure when stacey suggests things. even afterwards, she tries to... "villainize" feels to strong a word, but tries to make reasons for why she disliked her even though it's obvious she was just taken off guard

"maybe new people weren't an invading force to be repelled at all costs" here we get to see how much kristy detests change—even when it's beneficial, she'd rather stick with one or two friends. pay special attention to the wording: "at all costs". kristy will always try and evade change

another sign of her intolerance for change is how much she just dislikes watson, even though he seems like a nice guy. she doesn't want to accept that he is going to a fixture in their lives because it will mean that her family will change a lot, at least in her view (though i will say she has a lot of abandonment issues and trauma from her dad leaving her which shifts her perception on any guy her mom dates)

also from here on out i think we can see a clear hyperfixation on business and law, judging by her attitude and comments later on about the club

this whole dinner scene just feels very autistic to me: she takes what her mother says about "feeling okay about it" very literally and bulldozes any attempt of conversation. she is not okay about the idea of her mother marrying watson and she doesn't understand the social cue of her being more gentle about it. she genuinely doesn't understand why her mom would ask about it if she, in kristy's perspective, was not going to listen to her, when kristy is the one not listening to her over a misunderstanding.

this might be more of a me thing, but kristy trying to send her mom an email to apologize just feels really autistic to me, as it resonates hard with me and what i've done in the past. i used to leave messages in google translate for my parents to apologize. idk but its worth looking at

"i'm bossy, get used to it" shows that not only is she fairly controlling, but she's also aware of this fact. i couldn't find much research on this, but many autistic people are bossy or controlling so they know what to expect and so that things go exactly to plan.

kristy's lack of tact and sense with the phone. just. that.

claudia remarks that she's starting to remember why she stopped hanging out with kristy so much—because she's controlling and "bossy". this is partially due to feeling like everything that happened with her dad was out of her control and so it intensified the shittier he became, combined with that, autistic people can tend to come off as too much. also, rejection sensitive dysphoria—stares off into the distance and doesn't talk.

autistic people tend to be very trusting of others, taking lots of what they say at face value, and struggling to comprehend why someone would lie to them. despite only knowing stacey for a short amount of time and not even completely liking her, she's devastated when it turns out stacey was lying to them.

"this whole situation has spiralled out of my control, and that's a feeling i really, really hate." same points that have been made above—absolute control over what happens when they're involved is a big thing for autistics so they know completely what's going on. add on her trauma about her absent father, and it makes sense why she acts the way she does.

more about the trust!! she trusts stacey to not only know about her hyperfixation but also to be directly involved in it—that's a really big deal for us autistics!! it means we Trust you!!

more hammering in about kristy's control issues. i'm glad i've only seen One (1) fic demonizing her for it but at the same time that's one too many

kristy being just. so blunt. i love her. "you're controlling my THOUGHTS now?" "yes." a lot of autistic people don't see any reason to not be honest most of the time.

is just. dead serious about the "i should resign before i'm impeached".

more bluntness!! "when mary anne gets scared at something you think is silly, do you make fun of her and call her a baby?" "yeah, sometimes." "oh. but you're still her best friend, right?" "yes." but also, bluntness isn't always a bad thing. kristy just casually throws in the "i love you" because she thinks it at that moment and means it, so she sees no reason not to say it because it's true.

more finding it easier to say stuff like "thank you" over text than in person, just like the "i'm sorry" earlier

additional notes:

mary anne is autistic too!! we see her stimming, though, stroking the end of her braid during her convo abt the club with stacey, kristy and claudia. also her just letting kristy speak a lot feels autistic but idk how to explain it. also, she's good with visual organization, such as keeping things orderly in a google docs and writing minutes. i feel like she'd rather her do it than anyone else, that way she can help the club and make it easier for her to concentrate on the club itself. also, stacey and even claudia, her childhood best friend, both remark that she doesn't speak a lot. she definitely isn't nonverbal, but she absolutely lets people talk over hers and seems to find it more comfortable to not speak, at least early on. i could only find stuff for nonspeaking and nonverbal autistics, but i've had several periods where it wasn't uncomfortable to speak, but i was much more comfortable not speaking, which i think might be the case for mary anne, though it could be a mark of her simply not knowing what to add.

claudia CLEARLY has adhd!! she doodles and fidgets a lot, and many adhders turn out to be artists due to their creativity and excess energy that they expel via doodling. she draws on her shoes, and the teacher remarks that she "wouldn't want another failed quiz on your average", indicating her struggle with school, which we see even more of in the coming episodes, and people with adhd tend to have poor academic perfomance, mainly for their struggle with executive dysfunction skills.

claudia also spells "prety grate" instead of "pretty great" in her email to kristy. judging by this and later scenes in the series, it's possible she has dyslexia and/or dyscalculia, which has been reported to more or less have a 25% comorbidity with adhd

janine is also pretty obviously autistic-coded; her room is very dimly lit, she hardly ever leaves it, has flat affect, doesn't pick up much on claudia's social cues, has a special interest in computer and tech and whatnot, has a very extensive vocabulary, and butts in on conversations with her advice without asking before leaving after they get what she's saying

and that's it for episode 1 !!!! tell me what you think, and i'll see you all with part 2 very soon :)

[irondad-defensesquad]

Mr. Dad Guy

For Sicktember (@sicktember), prompt 7: Borrowed Hoodie. Except Peter isn't sick with a flu or anything like that, but he has a bad day. Also posted on AO3! TRIGGER WARNING - mention of bullying. DO NOT SHIP PETER AND TONY. P/ROSHIP DNI.

Peter isn’t having a good day today.

His days are mostly the same, but in some of them, he’s just not able to bear it all with a smile. It’s those days when Peter’s eyes are heavy, his head cannot handle society, and everything is louder and brighter than ever. So today, Flash is more annoying than usual. School is an absolute drag. The teachers decided to be monotone and say so many things that Peter’s brain won’t absorb any of them.

Ned got sick so he’s staying home today; Peter has no idea where MJ is. That’s a great opportunity for Flash to bump into him and get his shirt dirty with food.

No, worse yet.

Peter forgot he’s been wearing Tony’s old MIT sweater all day.

He would’ve killed Flash, but Peter is the one to blame, honestly. He should’ve given it back to Tony, or at the very least left it at home.

Peter tries to clean it in the restroom, but it looks even worse.

He wants to cry. Today sucks, Flash sucks, Peter sucks—

The arachnid sighs in relief when he finally gets out of school, but he’s a little apprehensive when he sees Happy in the car waiting for him. Let’s just hope Tony forgets about the sweater, so maybe Peter can wash it at home himself.

Happy notices he’s quiet, and even asks what’s up. Peter doesn’t want to tell him he’s upset about Tony’s sweater, so he remains silent. The driver doesn’t insist and lets him be.

When Peter finally arrives upstate, Tony has just made waffles with ice cream.

“Hey, kiddo,” the man greets him with a smile. “Want a snack?”

“Oh, sure?”

Tony raises an eyebrow. “What? I didn’t poison it, kid. Or maybe you’re not hungry?”

“No, no, it’s just… I didn’t expect to be met with waffles and ice cream, that’s all.” Then Peter puts two in two together. “Did Happy say anything to you?”

“Well, only that you seemed a little off today.”

Peter sighs. “Yeah…”

“Bad day at school?”

The teen shrugs. “Well, it was like every day, except Ned didn’t go to school, so it sucked. And the classes, my god, why did everyone decide to be so boring today? I don’t even know what I wrote in my notebooks. I have no idea, it was like I wasn’t even there.”

Tony hums, listening.

Peter can’t hide this from him. Guilt is eating him alive.

“And it was so bad that I didn’t even realize I was wearing your old sweater all day, and then—some kid bumped into me and got all their lunch on it. Seriously, I- I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark. I don’t even know why I was wearing it at school, I don’t know why I had it with me in the first place, and I tried to clean it, but it just got worse—”

“Whoa, hey—"

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark,” Peter is tearing up over this, and he knows it’s stupid, but he knows he messed something that belongs to his mentor, and he shouldn’t have.

“Hey, hey…” Tony abandons the waffles to comfort Peter, squeezing one of the latter’s shoulders. “It’s okay, bud. I’m not angry. It’s a sweater, and accidents happen.”

It wasn’t entirely an accident, but Peter will leave out Flash’s real intentions for now.

The fifteen-year-old opens his backpack to reveal the sweater, which has been horribly stained and horribly cleaned.

“We can fix that,” Tony reassures him. “And even if not, it’s an old sweater, kid. It’s fine.”

Peter sniffs. “O-Okay.”

“Aww, hey.” Tony wraps his arms around him without hesitation. “Today really sucked, huh?”

“Y-Yeah…” Peter replies, voice muffled by Tony’s shirt.

“Yeah, I know how it is.” Tony rubs his back. “I’ve got you, okay? You’re home.”

Home… upstate?

It sounds nice.

The hug doesn’t last long, but it doesn’t feel incomplete. Peter suddenly feels like part of the weight evaporated. Like all day long, he was only needing this.

Tony has taken the sweater, but before doing anything with it, he glances at it and grins to himself.

“What?” Peter asks, confused.

“So you were wearing it to school? That’s cute.”

Peter flushes red. “Mr. Stark…”

“It’s like you wanted to show off your cool mentor’s clothes.”

“It’s not like that—”

“Or you just missed me.”

“Mr. Stark!”

Tony laughs. “I’m just messing with you, kid.”

Peter crosses his arms, pouting.

“Yeah, I dunno. It’s a comfy sweater. And maybe- maybe it’s nice to think you’re looking out for me at school, too. Kinda.”

He mostly mumbled these words.

There’s some silence, the stunned kind.

When Peter looks up, Tony is the one who looks like crying.

But instead, the man squeezes Peter again.

“You’re so adorableeeeeee.”

“Mr. Stark!!”

“You can have all my sweaters. Literally all of them. Steal my whole wardrobe if you want.”

“No! Let me goooo—”

Tony laughs harder when Peter releases himself from the hug. The former tells the latter to eat the waffle before the ice cream melts completely. Tony probably puts the sweater in the washer.

Peter eats the dessert after this long, long day, and he smiles, now able to breathe a little better.

[sorayad]

hello, thank you for writing two truths, it was so lovely and brought me a lot of joy over the holiday season. <3 i foolishly thought the comments would show up in my offline copy but alas that is not a thing...would be you able to share your extensive writing notes and writing playlist again? if not, i understand. thank you so much once again; i hold ty and matt dearly in the comfort corners of my brain :')

thank you so much for caring about the characters!! and for very kindly referring to my notes as 'extensive' and not 'unhinged'.

NOTES:

i keep smiling while writing this??? ty and matteo are just so incredibly embarrassing. this is fun.

2024-08-05 update – WOW rereading this particular little note i wrote ages ago just made me tear up because i was working 12+ hour days between my jobs and teaching and trying to prep for quals and just getting nothing but rejections for grant applications and from literary agents and i had no time to sit and write and even when i did i was being hypercritical of every word and then i dug up this ridiculous story and it was like. this plot hook is so fucking goofy it literally doesn’t matter. and that was so freeing that ty v5.docx became the only thing i could allow myself to have fun writing for months because there were 0 stakes and it was just for me so it didn’t matter if it was cheesy and ridiculous and then i got three offers of rep in three days????

origin story for this one was a JOURNEY:

matteo actually appeared first, except he was an antagonist in a different and way more tragic sci-fi type story that i think i first sketched out in like??? 2021??

completely separately from that: an early, early version of ty’s story was kicking around as a vague sketch of scene ideas and the ‘captain’s sister’ plot hook since 2022 while i tinkered here and there without the full thing ever really clicking. at one point (late 2023???) i was toying with it again (spite!) and needed a loud cocky background douche who was less shitty than the many other douches that populate this narrative and for some reason (fate) matteo popped into my head so it was like. fine. i’ll pluck him out of the sad sci-fi story and use him here.

at that point, ty had a totally different story!!! he was going to have a non-matteo love interest!!!! and then background douche matteo drove ty to the party in chapter 1. and then he kept butting into scenes and thinking of new ways to try and help ty. and then literally on feb 29 2024 (leap day!!!) i was listening to ‘brand new day’ from the freaky friday soundtrack on the train and the image of him tucking his hideously ugly necklace into ty’s pocket hit me out of nowhere like a truck and i realized there was something there.

tldr matteo jumped across fictional universes and decided that he was going to be ty’s love interest instead of a villain and that i did not get a say in the matter

ty notes:

i had ty’s speaking voice really early on, but it took me ages to find his like. internal voice??? truth??? as a narrator. my first instinct was to write him as shy, but the words stopped flowing which is usually a sign i’m getting a character wrong, so i tried to refocus on the part i knew, his speaking voice, and it led me to the realization that while he is an earnest Good Boy and incredibly awkward at times he is also Not Shy and honestly is pretty mouthy and opinionated, and that insane combination of traits led me to the realization that my way into the truth of him wasn’t to be me now, it was to be me at like 17. gagged etc.

re: All Of That, i feel like the conflict at the heart of ty’s story is based in the Weird Loser Teen TM experience of having this strange stubborn pride in being scorned by the mean normies and feeling conviction in Being Yourself, but simultaneously wondering why Yourself is so laughable and will never belong anywhere or with anyone and just desperately wanting someone to tell you it’s okay and you’re normal and good.

fun writing challenge: trying to write a character that has Opinions without doing the incredibly annoying thing where it’s very obviously the writer pontificating through the characters’ mouth like it’s an after school special for Good Person Points. i have to make us buy ty as someone who would have these thoughts.

bgjablgkdajbdl ty is so much less angsty than my other protagonists, the edgiest song on the writing playlist is literally ‘scream’ from high school musical 3

horny jail bonk

this clip has ty energy highkey https://x.com/jnnibee/status/1823975972212809939

matteo notes:

my most impossible writing challenge yet: making a third gen italian hockey bro from hamilton ontario a viable love interest

while no one will ever dethrone Samuel ‘The Most Romantic Man Alive’ Matsui as the most cringe (honorific) character i’ve ever written, matteo definitely is the second most frequent perpetrator of out of pocket Leading Man In A KDrama antics*. like what do you meaaannnnn you’re showing up dramatically to step in between our protagonist and danger????? and now you’re asking him to wear your necklace????? and you’re princess carrying him??? and now ‘hero’ by sterling knight is on the writing playlist??? you’re so embarrassing?????

*the difference being, of course, that matteo is capable of shame and incredibly mortified by his own actions

is this a safe space. the literal only reason the non-terrible background douche that eventually became matt is even in this story is because i realized the end of chapter 1/start of chapter 2 is basically this (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3SSzuDZ58z0) and it would be funnier if there was a channing tatum equivalent present dgjbksjlbgl. he was only supposed to exist for the bit!!!

ok i can’t just roast him i’m actually very fond of him and i really enjoy the arc that’s emerging of ty gradually deconstructing the myth that he had of matt as this perfect prototypical hockey bro. i also think matt’s arc is kind of a mirror image of ty’s own story??? like whereas ty’s someone who ‘fails at’/deviates from most of the expectations of their social milieu, matteo’s someone who resoundingly succeeds at all of them, at least publicly. so like. exploring those complementary and contrasting pressures. 

but also re their mirrored arcs – matt’s story is kind of backwards? or revealed backwards? like usually i HATE the last minute ‘aha he was in love all along’ thing and i didn’t intend to write it but i THINK it works here because a) we kind of knew already from matt’s actions and b) that stuff i wrote previously about ty having to effectively undo or deconstruct the myth of Matteo Mariano, Perfect Hockey Man. we start with Perfect First Overall Matt and end with matt sitting on the ground in just a dress shirt exposed and broken down to the truth of the person he is. we start with him showing up to chase ty and end with the power dynamic kind of switching and ty showing up to chase him. WHATEVER.

it’s so important that in multiple scenes matt’s stage directions/blocking notes were ‘MATTEO DOES THE KATE SHARMA PUPPY EYES LOOK’

another instance of the characters surprising me: i figured out that a big theme of this story would be dissecting the ways in which performative manliness/Socially Mandated Correct Gender Expression can be shed and how scary but ultimately liberating it feels to do that, but what i didn’t expect was the dynamic that’s emerging between ty and matt where through being liberated from Mandatory Correct Gender Performance they’re really organically like ??? picking and choosing aspects of Gender Performance TM that they want?? and that’s been a new experience for me because while i LOVE fucking around with gender as part of characters’ personal arcs, i think i tend to write romantic relationships sort of??? agnostic of it??? like Gender TM is more of an antagonizing externality that doesn’t majorly factor into the dynamic between my main couples??? whereas i’m realizing while writing ty and matt that their respective femininity/masculinity and the interplay between the two on their own terms is like. part of what they’re so into about each other.

it’s so fun to get to dig into The Mixed Race Experience a little here because a lot of the characters i write find a sense of fulfillment in finding or owning a label and so it feels nice to bring ty and matteo on a different journey of grappling with the ways they aren’t entirely any one thing and having to negotiate different aspects of their identities while questioning whether they’re ‘enough’ of any single one

oh my god and that lets me tie in additional significance to matt’s ‘you’re everything’ in the final confession scene yayyyyy thank you subconscious writer brain <3 <3 <3 

Villains TM

the team: so usually when i’m writing hockey romcoms my protagonists’ teammates have been pretty chill and nice because a) i love a found family and b) honestly writing shitty people and inflicting them on my protagonists makes me feel tired and sad and bad. love a villain in a fantasy setting. hate a villain in a contemporary setting. BUT in this case the more i write the more it’s like. oh no they’re so shitty and that’s The Plot and it has to be this way.

curtis: i really didn’t initially intend for curtis to be the pseudo-villain he’s ending up as but the more the story gets clear to me the more i feel the violence of his placating neutrality. causing harm not because of action but because of inaction. seeing conformity as a virtue. stuffed with sawdust instead of a heart. the anti-matt.

if you’ve read my fanfic you know i love a redemption arc for or exploration of a complex and hated character and i found myself initially trying to be like. okay but people are complicated i need to show that ty’s teammates have good or at least explicatory aspects to their personalities, how can i redeem them and make this better and more healing, to the point of opening another doc and sketching out a few hundred words of Curtis Tragic Repressed Backstory. and then i got the ick harder than ever before. maybe these guys have reasons but their actions are still cruel and hurt people and i do not feel like contriving a way for ty to forgive them. they're one note villains and in this one case i think i’m okay with that because i don’t really care to learn more about them.

saoirse_ronan_as_jo_march_saying_women.gif

i love when fictional women are angry and bitter and kelly is both of those things for good reason but she’s also really genuinely kind!!! i wish i had better words for this but i feel like in her relationship to ty there’s elements of old obi wan in a new hope, like the jaded mentor who wants things to go better for our starry-eyed protagonist???

kelly/cam is my headcanon pairing. i feel like kelly is sort of accustomed to men looking at her and being weird about how hot she is and is thus kind of baffled by cameron ‘man with female friends’ gu just being pretty normal about this amazon in his midst. and then one day kelly reveals that she also has fake front teeth because of a long-ago hockey incident and cam sees her atrocious tooth gap and is SO enamored.

my other headcanon pairing is kelly/dee for obvious reasons. i am not immune to height difference grumpy x sunshine pairings.

sometimes i wish these were someone else’s characters because i want to read a like 48k slowburn kelly pov kelly/cam/dee fic where kelly doesn’t get into med school and cam originally is super into kelly and kelly turns him down after maybe a one night stand or something because he’s a Hockey Man and then months later (with her blessing) cam and dee end up dating and kelly is like. jealous of her best friend but also of the guy dating her best friend and her whole arc is like learning how to cope with being a self-perceived failure at everything she tries. and in the end all 3 of them are in love <3

cora seeley and lea lawrence canadian/american rivals to lovers hockey power couple of my heart. i wanted them to be in more of the story BUT it was also important narratively for ty to be really alone on his new team, and then to see the stark contrast when he goes home (/through our brief glimpse at cam) to where hockey is a fun thing with people who love him, so we can realize the crazy stress and isolation he’s been under to kind of add some more context to his unhinged actions throughout

title:

‘two truths’. there must already be something called this but i like it and it works with the theme of lying and also the reference to ‘two truths and a lie’ as like a cute little slumber party game for the youthful idiot vibes of the mcs

something about boats??? because of ‘don’t rock the boat’ pressure??? look up boat words. i don’t know any of these boat words. ‘man overboard’??? no that’s trash

i was thinking about this last night in bed and maybe ‘hero complex’ or something like that??? could help bring ty’s character arc forward more. i really like the idea of this one but it doesn’t sound as good as ‘two truths’. ….. ‘hero’s journey’??? worse??? too on the nose

i feel like it’s ‘two truths’. i keep going with my first idea of a title oops.

the ending/epilogue

fun structure/setting thing that i’m only realizing i did in retrospect is we gradually move more and more away from the physical but also emotional centrality of the team/locker room as the story goes on. like we start SO claustrophobic setting-wise and also with how ty’s constrained by people’s opinions, after chapter 6 we start branching out into new emotional spaces, some literal new locations, then in the last act we finally break free emotionally (ty’s confrontation with curtis) and physically by going to ty’s hometown and then a whole different country. reflecting how the story is kind of about ty (and matt) Escaping. metaphorically. and then literally.

re: that oh god the epilogue. the first thing that came to mind when thinking about where i wanted them to end up was ‘they’re getting the hell out of dodge’ and then i was like. wow ‘this situation is bad so i will leave’ is a terrible takeaway from a story especially with a protag who’s so oriented towards action. but as i wrote the rest of the story and started to get a clearer picture of ty’s journey it was like ohhhh the takeaway isn’t ‘stop caring’ it’s ‘yes care yes act on it but you also deserve to care in a place that cares about you and makes you safe’ and grappling with the question of like. can we make ourselves belong somewhere??? should we??? how much of ourselves do we offer up??? i still don’t know the right answer.

my relationship to all my protagonists is me shoving that one mary oliver poem about ‘you do not have to be good’ in their faces and then it bounces off them and punches me in the nose

making this prediction now. had too much fun writing this, the next thing i write will be a bummer. [eta 2024/12/23: lol]

PLAYLIST:

only vaguely in chronological order, not a chapter-by-chapter thing, just songs i listened to while writing. there’s so much disney channel on here.

gentle monster (hockrockb) – i don’t even know if this is the correct translation but it’s this song (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k4v_uVKxN44) and i listened to it on a LOOP sketching out the whole story

i was an island (john-allison weiss) (rock version) – kind of thematic song for both ty and matt

like me (teen beach movie) – the gender performance song. but ironically.

hot to go! (chappell roan) – more goofy hijinks vibes, the 5678 off the top feels correct for a romcom montage.

not strong enough (boygenius) – more fun gender lyrics and ~themes

gotta find you (camp rock) – i listened to it a lot while writing ty and matt’s gentler moments throughout the first act of the story

hero (starstruck) – matteo’s theme song, unfortunately.

hear you me (jimmy eat world) – on a loop while i wrote the conversation on the curb where they finally open up to each other

scream (high school musical 3) – ty angst song <3 <3 

garden (tommy lefroy) –  “You made up the race / You'll finish either way” ty vs the team, justified anger

american teenager (ethel cain) – the ONLY thing i listened to while finishing the last like 10k of this story, especially chapter 12

i was an island (john-allison weiss) (acoustic version) – sorry i love a cute little gentle reprise. they’re in LOVE. this was on repeat for the airport garage kiss scene

open your eyes to love (the lizzie mcguire movie) – Ty And Matteo Do Not Fuck In A Pool

mr. brightside (the killers) – ty dramatically sprints through a wedding reception to Get The Guy

brand new day (freaky friday) – the song playing in the background of the Big Damn Kiss/feelings confession scene at the wedding. chad michael murray’s freak weirdo character in freaky friday you will always be famous. to me.

ultimate (freaky friday) – epilogue/credits song!!!

[wrencatte]

soooo, uh, how 'bout that gotham war? I have no real context for most of this story line (im almost scared of what they're going to do with jason after this), but my brain insisted i write this sooooo i did!

He’s numb when Steph and Cass come for him. Frozen in shock, still on the ground where Bruce left him – left him – left him. I love you, he’d said. This is a gift, he’d said. Some gift, Jason thinks, eyes burning, his heart beating so fast he feels breathless. He hears Steph and Cass but doesn’t fully register their presence.

“Hood, can you hear me?” Steph murmurs as Cass presses delicate fingers under his jaw, feeling for a pulse.

It’s too fast.

And he can feel that. He can feel the panic and the fear lurking in the background, threatening to overcome him. It makes it so much worse – knowing it’s there. Like eyes in the dark. Like a sound when there shouldn’t be one. The missing last step he knows he should avoid, but his foot is descending anyway.

His head moves with the slightest pressure, like his neck doesn’t have any strength to control it. Eyes half-lidded and distant. Red-rimmed and dull. Physically, he looks okay except for how pale he is and a few black bruises. Certainly better than the last few times he and Batman duked it out.

But there’s something off about him. Something wrong.

Steph kneels. “Jason…”

“’m fine,” he finally says, voice hoarse. It makes them both wince. Jason doesn’t notice. “He barely touched me.”

Is it weird that he wishes they’d gotten into one of their usual fights? The drag-out beatdowns that usually had him limping away, crawling away, wondering why the hell he even bothers hanging around when everything just falls to pieces?

This one – This one hurts the worse. More than a punch hard enough to shatter his helmet. More than a batarang to the throat. Why? Is it because of those stupid, stupid words? I love you. This is a gift. Is it because Jason had actually been trying this time? From rubber bullets to deciding to put the guns down altogether. This is the rehabilitation Bruce chose for him and him alone, and it was supposed to be…mercy?

How precise is this “failsafe”? What’s the heartrate threshold? The adrenaline limit?

He won’t be able to fight – which means he won’t be able to defend himself even if he gets out of the game. What about exercising? Sex? What about natural fear? Can he ever get excited about something? Bruce isn’t in his right mind, what are the chances he took life into account if he’s willing to go this far?

Jason thinks…he thinks he’d rather be in Arkham than this.

He thinks he’d rather be dead.

[lurkingshan]

Did you go into I Feel You Linger In The Air with a lot of expectations? Personally I'm a huge fan of Nonkul so when the cast was announced I was quite livid and my expectations raised a lot when the pilot trailer was dropped but Dee Hup House followed that pilot trailer with Step By Step, Show Me Love and Hidden Agenda so by the time IFYLITA aired, I felt like I had to try minimizing my expectations as much as possible because it's Tee Bundit & co. I can't quite put into words but what about IFYLITA that makes each episode builds up so well and I never really feel like it lost its pace? plot? narrative? (except for maybe a few plot threads I could overlook). What do you think Shan? What do you think are the key elements that keeps IFYLITA's narrative so engaging even though this could have been like any other modern-guy-accidentally-time-traveled-to-the-past-to-fall-in-love-with-guy-from-the-past series?

My friends can attest, I went into I Feel You Linger in the Air with unreasonably high expectations, because I fucking love historicals and time travel romances and before this year we had precious little of either from Thailand. I was so hype for this project from the moment it was announced. And then Step by Step happened and I decided to willfully ignore the Dee Hup House and Tee Bundit parts of this project in order to stay hype. Surely, it would be fine!

And it has, mostly. I can't pretend we haven't seen some Tee Bundit hallmarks in this production. For the first half of the show, he seemed pretty uninterested in the romance, focusing most of the story time on building out the side characters and the politics of the period and leaving Jom and Yai's connection underdeveloped. He has given us almost no information on the time travel mythology, so the finale will either be jam packed with last minute exposition or leave Jom/us with no real understanding of the rules of this universe. He seemed unable to figure out how to make the romance and time travel and queer politics plots co-exist, so instead he kind of chunked them out, taking them one at a time and leading to some kinks in the pacing of each given plot. He spent a lot of time very carefully building serious conflicts only to hand wave them away in one very easy denouement.

But despite all that, this show just works, doesn't it? Usually when I am picking up this many structural issues in a show, I will lose my emotional connection to the story as my brain kicks into analytical mode. But that didn't happen here. The emotions of this story stuck with me throughout; I care about all the characters, I am invested in everyone getting what they deserve, and I was sobbing my little heart out last week as Jom and Yai said their long goodbye. It's been such a beautiful journey, if imperfect, and I credit that to a few things:

Writing aside, the other aspects of this production are all around phenomenal. The cinematography, the set and costume design, the lighting, the music. It's all working together to make this time and place feel so vivid and real. It's so gorgeous to look at and the show really makes you want to just sink into it and get immersed.

Bright and Nonkul were perfectly cast in this, and they have been absolutely killing it in these roles. Jom and Yai feel so real to me, both as individuals and as a pair. I really believe in their connection, which is no small thing given the aforementioned underwriting of its development. In a story like this the romance needs to be strong enough that you believe these two would seek each other out across time and space, and I do believe it for them. A lot of that can be credited to the remarkable chemistry these two performers have built together.

The non-romance aspects of the plot are actually compelling. It's always risky to add in a bunch of side stories to a simple romance; you risk distracting from the main story in a way that actually does some damage or leaves the audience bored or confused. But here, the choices about what to add made for a compelling cast of characters, a stronger tie to real history, and an all around more queer show. I love that we got a proper lesbian romance, that we got to see an oppressed woman come into her power, that we got a het dude learning how to be an ally, and that we got to see a queer community form around and bolster Yai and Jom. It's really special and the best of what Tee's interests can lead to when he marshals them well.

So yes, I do think this show stands apart from others in this genre for what it brought to the formula that feels new and fresh. I wish it was more widely accessible because it's truly one of the most beautiful dramas I have ever seen and easily one of the best Thai shows of the year.

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

WIP “Wednesday”

Thanks to @fractured-shield here, @honeybewrites here, @mundanemoongirl here, @bookish-karina here, @diabolical-blue here, and @mysticstarlightduck here!

Rules: post something about your WIP!

Was gonna wait for Wednesday but I am impatient.

Decided it would be fun if I compared the Going Into the Portal scene from each Draft of TSP so far!

All of these are in Lexi's POV (or Alexia, before she got her nickname)

Draft One (2013):

The beautiful blanket of May flowers stretched out all the way… to my house. <3 I sighed. Nothing was better than… “AAAHHH!!!” I whirled around. Aurora had disappeared! I moved the grass where she had been standing. A rock. A metal rock? I stood up, confused. I put my bag down, next to Aurora’s (which she probably dropped) and felt the rock with my hand. “AAAHHH!!!” I screamed. EVERYTHING WENT BLACK

Draft Two (2014):

I stared in the place that I was pretty sure Aurora was standing. I stared at the backpack. I was pretty sure that it was hers. I looked at the name plate. Yup. Her handwriting. Aurora Austin Where was my friend?!?!?! I looked all around. Nothing. The only place I hadn’t looked was the ground. Why would she be in the ground? I have no idea. But it’s worth a try. I moved the grass. The only thing I saw was a rock. As I looked closer, the rock seemed to be metal. I crawled a little closer. It still looked metal. I reached out to touch it when…. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” I was falling through nothingness. All I saw was a bunch of rainbows swirling around me. I kept falling and screaming. Then everything went black.

Draft Three (2015-16 I don't remember):

I stared at the spot where Aurora was standing. The rock was still there, and a few feet away was her backpack, but Aurora herself was nowhere to be found. I set down my backpack and violin and crept forward. I looked at the rock. It looked metal. I got out my metal detector just to check. Yup! Definitely metal. Then I thought of a crazy thought. What if the rock was a portal? I knew it was impossible, but it was the only explanation to why Aurora disappeared. If it was a portal, what was on the other end? Air? No air? Well, whatever was behind it, I knew I had to go. Aurora was in danger. Possibly. Actually, I don’t know. It might be Band Land over there with all the boys you can crush on. I slowly crawled away from the portal and shuddered at that thought. Band Land would be anyone who wasn’t in band’s nightmare. Band is just noise to me, so Band Land must be torture. I shook the thought away. That was a stupid thought. Maybe this was a dream. Well, usually in dreams you don’t think they are dreams, but I actually did have a dream inside a dream, and I knew I was dreaming then, but in the dream, the edges around my vision were a little foggy, and I could see perfectly fine here. Well, except for the fact I wear glasses. Without them, I can’t see worth crap. I crawled back to the rock. Last year, we learned metals rusted after rain. And it was super rainy this year. So, why was it shiny? This was frying my pour brain. Despite whatever was behind there, there was still a chance Aurora could be in trouble. Without thinking, I reached out my hand and touched the rock.

Draft Four (2017* probably edited a bit though):

I waited for Ash to answer, but she was silent. “Ash?” I asked, making sure she was okay. I turned around, about to say something based on her reaction, but she wasn’t there. “Ash?” I said, standing up. I looked around in all directions, but there was no sign of Ash. “Ash!?” I said louder. Still no response. “ASHLEY!” No answer. I fell on the soft, green grass and tried to hold back the tears, as I often did if I were stressed and felt lost, not a clue what to do. I had no idea what was happening, and frankly, wasn't even sure it was happening. I fell on my back to contemplate what happened when I hit something hard with my head. I cried out in pain, and shot up, rubbing the back of my neck. I turned to see what I hit, and jumped when I saw millions of colors shoot up from the ground and wrap around me. I looked around and watched the endless field disappear around me. I must’ve hit my head hard. I looked down at the ground and watched as the colors started to erase the grass around me. “Oh, sh—” The ground disappeared completely and I fell through a tunnel of millions of colors. I never knew there were so many in the world. I would’ve been in awe if it weren’t for the fact that I was falling to my death. I ended up spinning around somehow, which caused me to fall headfirst down the tunnel. At the end, I saw a bright white light. Was it Heaven? Was I dead? The light became bigger and brighter and whiter as I fell closer, and closer, and closer. Soon I landed in the light, and I felt it enclose around me, sucking me up in its brightness. I felt content, safe, and warm in the light. But then I felt a cold wind at my feet. I felt cold air-like ropes tie themselves around my ankles. I was suddenly yanked down. Then everything went black.

Draft Five (2021):

“What the—” “Ash?” I asked at her sudden exclamation. “You okay?” I turned to make sure she was but jumped when she wasn’t there. Just her backpack. “Ash?” I said, standing abruptly. I looked around in all directions. “Ash?!” I said louder. No response. I wrung my hands through my hair, my eyes burning, as they did when stressed. I had no idea what was happening, and frankly, if whatever was happening even was happening. I had to be dreaming. This didn’t make any sense otherwise. I tried to sit on the grass to contemplate everything when I hit something hard. I cried out in pain and shot up, rubbing the now-sore spot—feeling awkward even though no one was around. I turned to see what I hit and jumped when I saw millions of colors shoot up from the ground. I looked around and watched the endless field disappear from view. I must’ve hit my head on the concrete. Yes, that made sense. A sudden panic of long-term injury caused me to reach up to touch my head. I didn’t feel any sign of injury, but that didn’t mean anything. Maybe I was hallucinating the lack of injury. My breath quickened as the colors around me grew bigger and more vibrant. I looked down at the ground and watched as the colors erased the grass. “Oh, shit!” The ground disappeared and I fell through a tunnel of millions of colors I never knew existed. Is this what it’s like to have more photoreceptors? Is this how shrimp see? I would’ve been in awe if I wasn't falling to my death. The air whipped around me—my braids disconnected where I’d tied them in the back, causing my looser hair to partially obstruct my vision. A bright light forced my eyes shut, the inside of my eyelids red. I felt warm and safe around it, but it was too bright for my taste. Without warning, I hit the ground on my feet, stumbled, and fell on grass again.

Tagging @avrablake @elsie-writes @winterandwords @eccaiia @ceph-the-ghost-writer

+ ANYONE ELSE

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

@nebula--nix @literarynecromancy

[theomnicode]

How I write metas? A meta about metas

If this deconstruction post is going to be useful for any aspiring meta writer on this OPM fandom that I currently follow, then be my guest. :D

Warning: Semi-long post.

Step 1: Inspiration

Nope, really can't get into my head all the time to write stuff as much as I would love to but when I do, it's because I get a good inspiration from something. It does not really matter at this point if it's short or long, just the subject matters. Then if I get inspired, I will usually stew on that idea for a while and think about the points in the manga that fit.

Unfortunately inspiration does not strike all the time so there's always that. I'm going with the route that "you can't force inspiration to come to you, you want the inspiration to become you" or something like that. Take that with grain of salt, I just made it up on the spot.

Step 2: Practice

I've personally been writing fanfics since I was...a teen I believe and meta is just a subsection of writing school essays, except it's actually fun. So writing something has been quite a lot of work put behind it, but nobody says one cannot start from scratch today and the meta doesn't need to be immediately impressive, we're just writing it for fun yanno? For other fandom peeps who maybe wanna hear our thoughts. Just gotta start from somewhere yanno? My earlier metas are prolly a fair bit different than my current metas.

Like they say, practice makes perfect.

Step 3: The creative process

Ok so to the nitty gritty of the meta making... PLOT NO JUTSU!

I oftentimes either discuss the meta on discord channels with likeminded peeps and then start gathering some images from the manga to use as my images to enhance my point and make my texts also visually interesting to look at and make some clarifying points. I tend to find some good relative image to use as my first image because it'll show up in archive search like so:

It'll be easier to search for my metas even without searching for my tags from my archives if they look similar.

Next, I keep a folder for all my meta images in a neat pile and I use paint ms to cut me nice images to post into my meta and I also have cubari , the one site which hosts all the chapters so far, open where I can just grab images whenever. Basically any kind of image tool you got from paint to gimp to photoshop can help you crop images you want to use if you want to use images in your meta.

My brain can sometimes be pretty hard to follow apparently, so I do try to parse a lot when I write my texts and keep it somewhat coherent. Parsing information via the canon timeline can help form a coherent timeline to follow in a meta.

In general, you want your writing progress to be seamless and disturbance free creative process, not unlike drawing. Sometimes ambient music on the background can help focus on the actual meta writing process (currently listening to Ardenweald from WoW), which can take me from 1 hour to all the way to 5 hours in a single sitting, which is quite long but remember, tumblr drafts saves your progress even if you save it nowhere else and it's entirely possible to finish the thinking process another day when you have more time.

Sometimes I include links to either my own metas or some outside source, which I then briefly quote on my text, like in the Saitama mental health meta where I citate depression effects on memory recollection. The quote sources can also be stated at the very end like in a real essay, but to me personally I'm fine without the citations at the end, long as I state my sources and then put quotes into indented text.

Step 4: The writing itself

Paraphrasing helps make your text look coherent and easier to read to just about anybody, so avoid pure walls of texts. I usually write longer texts, but that is up to the writer to decide how short, long or how abridged they can/wanna make their work, which frankly is not one of my best skillsets lmao. Just gotta make sure to put that warning in the front if it's long post.

Nowdays, I also include chapter names and numbers about the relevant information I'm writing meta about in between () marks and itallics to further separate it from plain text, which might be helpful to people if they search for that specific plot point from the manga itself. Then if it's a particularly long meta, a tl;dr at the bottom if I can form a proper tldr.

Sometimes I also get struck by random thought and I just have to write it out haha. Sometimes I ask for aid and opinions on discord channels.

Any long metas should definitely have that "readmore" cutoff in the beginning, else entirety of tumblr or wherever you'll post the meta will hate you.

Step 5: Revision & Tagging

You can hold on from posting the meta the very same day and just keep it revised for a bit longer if you want to correct spelling mistakes or if you think you can maybe adds some more to it. Revision is just as important in writing meta as in writing something like fanfiction and I personally do a fair bit of both.

When tagging, I just use "opm meta" for all my opm related metas and then tag in fandom and characters that apply to the current meta and then some other related subjects like "mental health, character study" etc. I prolly haven't tagged my earlier metas that properly but eh... if you write on another platform and then copypaste it to tumblr, make sure that the plain text shows properly and doesn't create any weirdness.

Closing thoughts...that's about it folks, that's how I write meta and how I wrote this piece as well. Which took me roughtly 1hr 45mins to write down at my current writing speed but I've been thinking about this since yesterday haha.

Tl;dr: Inspiration, practice, creative process by saving images and thoughts as they go, writing and paraphrasing, revision and tagging properly.

[sunflowerquill]

The Glorification of Self-Deprecation in Art/Writing Spaces

Heads up, I also still self-deprecate from time to time, and I think it's perfectly fine to be humourous about yourself!

Most microtrends (usually with audios for short-form content or memes) in the writing and art community tend to always have a really... self-deprecating character to them? Again, it's of course alright to acknowledge your weaknesses in a funny way sometimes, but I think that social media's nature usually encourages people to be self-deprecating for laughs because people can more easily relate to flaws than strengths. Self-deprecation gets more engagement because negative content gets more engagement.

Sometimes, it's so people can feel better about themselves and see that every writer/artist has their flaws (which is good!). But when you start to identify with your self-deprecating thoughts so much that they become 'quirky flaws' that your mind is unwilling to change, it becomes a problem.

A big one I always see in the writing community is in regards to procrastination; rarely ever making progress on your work, doing everything but writing, etc. Now two notes here: of course procrastination can stem from things such as neurodivergence, and that's an exception! Procrastination isn't laziness. I myself have struggled with it in the past (and still do sometimes). But what I've personally learned is that scrolling through procrastination-related and self-deprecating memes on social media helped me much less than actually trying to fight my procrastination.

I'm not saying it's something easy (again, especially when it comes to procrastination that relates to neurodivergence), obviously you can't just tell your brain to stop procrastinating. Self-deprecation may ease the problem in the moment, but if it becomes a constant thing, I think it's more likely to turn into an obstacle for your journey rather than a boost.

It's alright to make memes/posts/thoughts that showcase how proud you are of your work! No matter your skill level, there is always something to admire. At least once in your life you'll have a moment where you're proud of what you've created. Cling onto what you think you did right and be proud of yourself for it!

For example, in the first drafts of my books (and even now to a lesser extent) I found myself holding back while writing. I feared adding 'flavour' to the narration because I believed I always had to have the serious formal style of more classic authors. I did make jokes about that to myself a lot, but I never really worked on improving because of it. I kept it as my 'quirky writing flaw' even though it bothered me a lot. It was only when I finally decided to get out of my comfort zone and improve that I felt better about my skills. I may not be fully there yet, but I have improved a lot in that aspect; and I am proud of it.

So next time while writing (or creating art), instead of always thinking to yourself "haha i'm so bad at writing kiss scenes" think "damn am I good at writing character descriptions". And also the classic "what's the issue here? How can I improve?" etc etc.

Happy writing/creating art. Hope this encouraged you, even slightly!

Toodles <3

[azes-silliness]

Scholar’s moral tutor

Alhaitham x Male!reader, SLIGHT angst to fluff, mostly fluff tbh

Warnings: slightly yan Alhaitham, angst, reader thinks he is dumb, kinda mean Alhaitham,

An: im screaming, crying. This was a request from an anon asking for Alhaitham angst/fluff but I accidentally clicked post when I was trying to save it as a draft theennn I had to delete the post. So yep, now the ask is gone! IM SO SORRY 😭😭😭😭

Alhaitham was by no means a morally green person. He hardly bat an eye to the troubles of the people on the street on his way home. His usual schedule was to get his work done then get home, no exceptions unless perhaps his friends annoyances needed him. Then you changed everything. Suddenly hes working overtime to help you study for your maths exam, even bothering to backtrack on topics you didn’t comprehend. It was only later in your second semester he realized he quite enjoyed the time spent on you. It even came to him that he didn’t want these days to end. He had to have a permanent part in your life- not just your tutor. Yet he didn’t rush it, after all, he believed that as long as he a gave you what you wanted-his knowledge- then you’d never leave him. How wrong he was.

Alhaitham’s bad habits eventually caught up. He was so used to treating people as if they were invisible until they talked to him it was buried so deep in his personality that when he wanted to change, it was taking all too long.

“Are you even listening to me? I said the formula is x^3+y^3+2^3=k not x^2-“

“Stop blurting when you can be thinking, y/n.”

“No. You are wrong. Start over.”

“Pay attention, y/n.”

You buried your head in your book, biting your lip so hard you swore it bled. Why could you still hear Alhaitham’s voice in your head? You were alone and Alhaitham wouldn’t check on you for another hour. You managed to grit your teeth and breath in , lifting your pen again and starting to write down more notes. “Grip the pen like this. Messy handwriting may become illiterate, which is not acceptable in the Akademiya.”

You stood up, breathing deeply. No, no! You were fine, fine, fine.

After a few more failed attempts at calming down, you jotted it down to lack of sleep-deciding to skip lessons with Alhaitham today to sleep early.

That was just it, you didn’t want to avoid him.

—

”Where were you yesterday, y/n?” Alhaitham demanded, his eyes looking a bit more irritated then usual. You had totally not expected Alhaitham to find you during lunch, more than a little miffed at the fact that you had left before he could meet you yesterday. All you could do was manage a pained smile, “Ahaha…I…had…a…uhm…”

Okay, okay, think of excuses! My grandma died-ok no, she already had. Uhh, my dog ran away. Tsk, no, you don’t have a dog! My cat committed arson-You don’t have a cat either!

You just stared up at him, giving him an awkward smile. Embarrassment kept creeping up your cheeks as Alhaitham stared you down, frowning. It was only after a few awkward moments of silence Alhaitham brought up his hand to rub his head tiredly, sighing, “Fine. I suppose since you didn’t have an exam today, it was reasonable. Now, on the other hand, I refuse to let you of as you do have an exam of quintic formula tomorrow.” He ignored the way his heart rate quickened as he saw your eyes light up, beaming. This was utterly unfair for the archons to let such a handsome cute being to exist. You nodded quickly, feeling relieved Alhaitham wasn’t angry. You could not totally handle today’s lessons with him. —

You take that back. You couldn’t. He was more strict today than usual, berating you on mistakes he’d usually ignore. Your brain was pounding againt your skull as you reviewed the lesson for the umpteenth time. You could so do this. It was (not) fine. Alhaitham was explaning about how epsilon was the opposite of x in math, or maybe that was an hour ago. It all went over your head anyway. “Y/n? Are you listening?” Alhaitham demanded, frowning.

“Yes…yes…”

—

That was your latest lesson with Alhaitham, and it was three weeks ago. After that you had taken it upon yourself to study alone. You knew you were probably overreacting in this situation, but the pounding headaches from the extra assignments Alhaitham gave you and the lack of sleep to make way for his lessons were catching up on you, making your head pound with drowsiness every waking moment. It still does. Maybe it wasn’t Alhaitham himself, really. Maybe all this was your reaction to the being beside an unmatched genius all the time-pressuring you to be just as good at least, as if you could ever. You’d never have Academic validation in the eyes of the genius scribe. So what really was the point?

Your overthinking…overreacting…Why can’t you just be the perfect boy like Alhaitham?

Because your not smart. Your not gifted. Your not enough.

“Y/n. You’re no being of meager intellect, so don’t act like it.”

‘A being of meager intellect…huh?’

—

”Y/n avoiding you? They probably just can’t stand your personality.” Kaveh drawled, still focused on sketching out a project proposal for his client.

“I can’t believe I asked you.” Alhaitham sighed, looking down at the book on his lap. You didn’t hate him, did you? No, he made an effort to be kinder to you then most people. So what had he done wrong? Alhaitham mentally charted down everything he had done within the timespan- he pretended not to notice you stealing his lunch, he gave you cookies during the last-

So what mistake did he do? Why? What?

It was the first time in a many years the genius Alhaitham was confused, absolutely stumped.

—

“Y/n.”

“A-ah!?” You turned back to see Alhaitham with a deadpan serious expression, frowning, “Why are you avoiding me?” He demanded. “And don’t give me some bullshit excuse.”

Okay…Alhaitham just cursed. This was quite…bad. “I was…I was…” you stumbled over your words, wondering what to tell him. The truth? Definitely not. Absolutely not.

“Don’t lie to me. Please.”

That made your brain short circuit. Alhaitham pleading? Since when?

“…I-I it’s bit embarrassing but-I felt pressured because…because your so perfect and everything even though you have a bit of an asshole personality and I can never be like you!”

“…”

That rendered you both speechless, Alhaitham shocked and you just plain embarrassed. Your quiteeee the idiot, aren’t you? You blabbered your mouth now Alhaitham’s going to make fun of-

“Apologies if that bothered you in any way.” Alhaitham adverted his eyes, his gaze trailing across the floor, “…May I rephrase my offer? I-think that I have an idea to satisfy both of us.” That caught your attention as your eyes locked on his face. He had an expression you never expected to see from him. He was…nervous?

You remembered to speak.

“I-I uhm-the offer to be my tutor? But-uhm-I mean-er- sure.” You stumbled over your words as you cringed at yourself, why were you so jittery, really?

“I would like you to be my friend. I-will not lie I wish for more than that but-“ Alhaitham coughed into his hand, regaining his composure, “I hope you’ll let be build up from there. Please treat me like any other friend and come to me with any of your troubles, even those relating to me myself.” His voice was unusually stiff as he tried to hide his fear of your rejection, hoping you’d allow him this for now.

“I-sure! Sure! So-I’ll call you Haitham from now on!” You offered awkwardly, you were not at all dejected about this outcome- in fact, you were joyful! The only thing bothering you was the feeling of uncertainty of having Alhaitham as your friend, and maaybe that little comment about ‘wanting more than that.’

But your first worry was your math quiz in a few minutes. Oh. Right. You were on the way to class, weren’t you?

-Another thing bothering you then- You don’t have a tutor anymore. So lets see your grades.

“Y/n? Why do you look panicked?”

—

Alhaitham was by no means a morally green person. He hardly bat an eye to the troubles of the people on the street on his way home. His usual schedule was to get his work done then get home, no exceptions unless you or his friends asked. But you changed everything. Now he’s willing to try to be morally green- to be worthy of your attention.

Maybe your his tutor now. He doesn’t have a problem with that.

An: This was longer than I expected! Kinda crappy tbh I didn’t put much thought into the story because OH CRAP QUARTER TESTS ARE COMING! Hope you liked it even a bit 🤭 EDIT: Yeah...I reread it the plot makes not much sense sorrry promise the next post will be better 😭😭😭

[quigonswife8]

Comfort after a hard day

Namor returns home and finds you crying.

requested by @kpopgirlbtssvt

Warnings: swearing.

A/N: A bit short, sorry.

-

It had been a hard enough day before your co-worker had decided to make things worse.

"Shit." you mutter, kneeling down to pick up some paperwork. "I swear if-"

"Of course." her voice comes from behind you, already making you sigh not wanting to deal with her.

"What Crystal?"

"Nothing." her voice has such a tone to it that you want to rip your hair out every time you hear it. "Was just wondering how you could have dropped that?" the venom lacing her tone.

"Come on, it's not that big a deal." please leave me alone is what you want to say to her. To her smug face.

"...don't you have stuff to do, Crystal?

"Whatever (y/n)." she rolls her eyes, beginning to walk away. "I'm just pointing out that you're useless." then she walks off and god do you want to punch her- punch something. Screw you 'you're useless' your brain seems to repeat, however.

"Just breathe." you mutter, taking long deep breaths. You have to ground yourself, or you will punch her. Though it's hard to stay angry, you find, as all you can think about is what she'd last said.

You're useless.

Your day has been terrible. Usually you'll be fine with her petty words and stabs at you, but today of all days, you're not. All you want to do now is go home and just cry.

Which is what you end up doing.

-A few hours later-

"I'm home, sweetheart."

It's been a long day, and all he wants is to curl up with you. To just hold you. He gets nothing in response, and figures you're already asleep.

Pushing some hair out of his eyes, he walks to the room you share. As he enters, that's when he hears your sobs, and his heart breaks. It's dark inside, except for the light from a lamp on your side of the bed. Though, even in the darkness, he can make you out perfectly.

The first thing that comes to mind is 'who did this?', and that he would go after who the hell made you cry.

Then those thoughts disappear, and all he can think about is making sure you're alright. "sweetheart." he walks over to the bed and gets on, and you stop sobbing. Embarrassed to be crying in front of him, you turn around to look at Namor.

"Y-you're..."

"I'm here." he assures, searching your (e/c) eyes with his brown ones. "...and i'm not going anywhere, in yakunaj [my love]."

This is what you need. You need him, but not sexually- emotionally. You need him to hold you- to build your walls that broke down back up. You need him.

You scootch close to him, keeping your eyes on him. They seem to calm you a little, enough for you to hold back the sobs. Then you make a motion, indicating that you want him to wrap his arms around you. He understands and does just that, and you immediately melt into his touch.

Namor mutters some words- endearments. It soothes you more, reminds you that he is there. He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, then rests his head on top of it. "Can you hold me forever?" you mutter, sighing.

He can't help but chuckle. He would give you anything, do anything for you, if it meant seeing you smile again. Seeing you happy because your happiness matters most. You matter so much, that sometimes he'll neglect his own wellbeing to make sure you're okay.

"Forever."

Whoever hurt you will pay, because how dare they make you cry.

For now though...for now he continues to hold you.

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