#He spends the majority of his life in a lava lamp | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

maybedefinitely404 · 4 years

Text

Not Your Typical

Genre: college AU, hurt/comfort (kind of?)

Pairings: romantic Demus, Logicality, and Prinxiety

Content: some language, autistic character, sensory overload, mentions of losing friends in the past, anxiety, unintentional self harm, Roman is kind of a jerk but he regrets it, food mentions, unable to eat certain consistencies, beach/water/swimming, Janus being a disaster gay, ASL, selective mutism.

Word count: 6k

Comments: Like always, I don’t intend for these to be so long. Holy cow.

Janus is written based mostly on my experiences as someone with autism, and how it’s affected my childhood/relationships/daily life. No one’s experience is the same.

Janus was always alone. Alone, not lonely.

Most of the time, that is.

His whole childhood was an endless cycle of make a friend, weird them out, be alone. Find another friend, weird them out, be alone. And sometimes it hurt, yeah, but he got used to it. At home, he spent the entire day in his room, assembling structures out of legos before tearing them down and starting over. Sometimes he’d build something really cool, and that would stay up for a long time. He didn’t have any siblings, and his parents didn’t give a whoop as long as the floor was generally clear, so no one ever bothered the space ships or towers or just really long lines that stretched from one wall to the other. He liked those.

Things changed when he got to middle school. Life started getting real, people became more than just recess friends, and that unsettled him. He made a couple close friends, friends that he really opened up to only for them to leave him when he became too much. He just couldn’t help it though; he couldn’t help the way he bounced when he got so excited he couldn’t breathe, or how he couldn’t use words when he got overwhelmed by the touch and the noise, or how he couldn’t stop talking about his favorite shows or books. He was labeled as childish. It was like a label had been stuck to his chest that read “avoid at all costs”, and people did.

So he relearned how to be alone. He put a lava lamp next to his bed for when he needed something constant to look at, he got a collection of chewy necklaces and stim toys that never left his room. After a lot of research, he convinced his parents to buy him a weighted blanket for when every touch was too light, too agonizingly light, and he needed something firm to ground him. At school, or really around anyone, he learned to control his more obvious stimming and touch sensitivity by staying in oversized sweaters and jeans. He taught himself basic sign language for when he couldn’t talk, even though he knew his parents wouldn’t understand him. They took forever to learn basic signs, for ‘water’ or ‘quiet’ or ‘no’, and both eventually got frustrated and gave up. As if their frustration was anything compared to his.

It was going great, not perfect but better than before, until he graduated high school. Suddenly he realized he was about to move halfway across the country, to a new environment with new triggers and new people who didn’t understand that he wasn’t frowning because he was pissed, but because smiling when you didn’t understand the reasoning was exhausting. Why do people smile and greet you when they enter the room? Why couldn’t that be more of an… understood thing? I’m here, you’re here now, we both know that, so why bring so much attention to it? For once his parents were kind enough to help him out, taking him to the campus during the summer to get acquainted with the surroundings and learn the map by heart. He talked to the admission’s counselor, explaining his disability and why that meant he couldn’t be on the side of campus near the highway, because the constant noise and common sirens would make him explode. They were eventually able to move him to one of the other buildings, one with apartments instead of dorms, even though that was generally only for third and fourth years. It took a load off his shoulders; less noise, less people. The one thing he couldn’t do was meet his roommates before the year started.

The school got them into contact, and since he was the last to be assigned to the six person pod, they added him into their pre-established group chat. The other five already had nicknames, ranging from ‘Dad’ to ‘Rat Bastard’, and he immediately felt like an outsider. Not like that was new to him, though. Except, he didn’t stay like that. When one of the group, ‘Nerdy Mcnerd’ on the chat (he’d long forgotten their actual names), asked him what he liked and he immediately sent a list of special interests and hyperfixations, the top being snakes, it was like a door had been opened. Nerdy Mcnerd was a fan of space as well, and the two stayed up until all hours of night on their own chat discussing space and their place in the universe. Rat Bastard had an affinity for what people would categorize as “creepy animals”; octopi and squid, spiders, star-nosed moles, and most importantly, snakes. Their conversations mostly involved dopey pictures of snakes and unintelligible key smashes and emojis. Emo Disaster shared his love of darker themed TV shows, and they started a couple new ones at the same time, constantly updating each other with theories. When he mentioned his major was psychology, Dad was immediately overjoyed to be sharing the major with someone, and offered to help him study for the harder classes. He didn’t hit it off quite so well with Princey, who was put off by Janus’ so called “moodiness” and didn’t trust him.

When they finally met, it was supposed to be great. Janus knew the environment, somewhat knew his roommates, and was surprisingly excited for the new year. His joy was suddenly vanquished, however, as meeting these people face to face took a turn for the worse. Dad, Patton, immediately tried to go for the hug when he walked into the apartment for the first time, and was slightly taken aback when Janus reared back so hard he hit his head on the wall. The glee disappeared and he apologized profusely, and that’s when Nerdy Mcnerd, Logan walked in, explaining that Patton was very physical. They were over it rather quickly, but Janus shuddered as soon as the other two turned to each other. They had already claimed one of the three rooms for themselves, so Janus chose the one furthest into the apartment. He dropped his suitcases next to one of the two beds with a deep sigh. The thought of a hug… no. It unsettled him greatly, made his skin crawl. Maybe one day, but not now.

Emo Disaster and Princey, Virgil and Roman, arrived later in the day, hand in hand, bickering animatedly when they walked into the apartment. They were greeted with a huge hug from Patton and a side hug from Logan, and that’s when Janus recalled that they had all been roommates the year prior and again, felt a small tinge of pain. He was still the odd one out. Virgil gave a two finger salute to where Janus was sitting curled up on one of the bar stools, knees pulled to his chest and for the first time, Janus didn’t feel compelled to give a forced smile in greeting. It was a relief. The small nod was all that was needed. Roman however, was a different story. When they happened to make eye contact for the first time, the taller man still standing in the doorway, Janus flinched. Hard. The man’s eyes burned through him, as if scouring through his brain, eyes so full of passion that Janus had to look away. Eye contact was only an issue for him sometimes, but with Roman, it physically hurt. Which only made the theatre major more suspicious of him. As he passed him on the way to get a glass of water, the taller man blurted out, “You’re a first year, why are you in a third year building?”, earning him a gentle smack from Virgil. He answered with a lame shrug and rushed back to his room, conceding to just go to sleep, regretting leaving his drink on the counter.

No one besides Janus was surprised when the door burst open at three am and a loud voice screamed, “I’M BACK, FUCKERS!” He was frozen in place, woken with such an adrenaline rush that he couldn’t move. Outside, the other four exited their rooms with varying levels of annoyance and delight, greeting the final member of the group. Remus, as Janus heard them proclaim, was his roommate, the only two dwellers not in a relationship. The gremlin burst into the room, a deranged smile on his face, and Janus wanted to cry. Why did he have to be stuck in a room with the loud one? But Remus saw the mismatched eyes poking out from under the blanket and with no hesitation, sunk to the floor next to the bed, still smiling but a million decimals softer.

“Hey, Snakey. Sorry to scare ya. I’m Remus, but you can still call me Rat Bastard if you want. Call me whatever, I don’t really get offended. You go back to sleep, I’m gonna get settled in. We can talk in the morning.”

Janus wasn’t planning to fall asleep, not with this new person in his room, but Remus was shockingly silent as he unloaded his things (he packed a bunch of garbage bags, not even a suitcase or box), and he couldn’t help the way his eyes slipped shut.

First semester came to a close, and he was equally delighted and horrified that everyone was staying on campus for break. It had become harder and harder for him to avoid movie nights, or family dinners (as Patton called them), or days they all went into town together. In the beginning, he put it off to being tired. Then, studying for exams. Now with school halted for nearly a month, he was out of excuses. It was getting to the point where he could feel the frustration from his roommates, and he wanted to admit how much he wanted to spend time with them, until his drawer full of secret stim toys and chewy necklaces called him back. At times, he let himself spend time with them. Baked something with Patton, talked about the stars with Logan, sat with Virgil as they studied, and it was good. He never was able to escape Roman’s cynical glares that made him absolutely shudder, but he got on much better with his twin.

Remus never minded if Janus only greeted him with a raised eyebrow, and he was okay to have more one sided conversations while Janus drew, or after a few weeks, stared unapologetically. Because god, there was so much about Remus that Janus couldn’t help but watch, even if a normal person would get uncomfortable by his wide and unblinking eyes. Luckily, Remus was no ordinary person. But the younger still kept the drawer to himself, only allowing himself to nom on the plastic or squeeze the orbeez filled squishy snake with intense fascination when he was alone. So every time he was with the others and felt the need to stim or infodump or was about to have a stress induced meltdown, he would excuse himself and leave without so much of a goodbye. He couldn’t, not in front of them. Every time he left, he could hear Roman’s quiet remarks about him that stung more than he wanted to admit.

He’d had so many people leave, people he allowed himself to get close to, only for them to see the side of himself he tried to hide. In his heart, he knew that part of him wasn’t bad. It was just him. Other people didn’t understand that, though. No matter how much he tried to convince himself that no one would judge him, or laugh at him because they weren’t like that, he was scared. The effort was wearing him thin, and it came to the point where he realized he had to tell them. He had to, or he would burst, and that would be way worse.

It was just three little words: I. Am. Autistic. And he’d explain everything, tell them about his stims and limits and how he needed space sometimes and hugs others, and spill everything about himself, and they’d accept him. They’d have to, right? Only, the night he was planning to blurt out the truth, something stopped him.

They were eating dinner, one of the only ones he’d attended in a while. Patton kept glancing at him from across the table as he picked half heartedly at his lasagna, distracted from the lively conversation between the twins and Virgil. The whole thing was speckled with bite sized pieces of mushrooms and zucchini, two of the foods that he couldn’t eat to save his life. The texture made him want to recoil into himself and scream and yank at his hair, and he’d learned early in life that that wasn’t a normal response to food. He wanted to explain to Patton that it wasn’t the meal itself he was avoiding, that it wasn’t Patton’s cooking that he didn’t like, it was just the texture of those two things.

Well, maybe that was a good gateway into his big announcement, if you could even call it that. It felt almost as scary as his coming out to his parents had been. If they didn’t take this well, he might be exiled from the group. If they tried to put up with them, they’d get irritated so quickly and slowly freeze him out. He really didn’t want that. It needed to happen though, he realized. How much worse would it be if one of them walked in on him having a meltdown, holding a pillow over his mouth to block his screams, biting almost animalistically on a necklace? How unsettled would they be if they saw him hitting his blanket pile out of repulsion of the feeling of his textbook pages? Better to warn them ahead of time. It was only luck that had gotten him this far.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Logan hit the table with the heel of his hand and let out an almost guttural scream before storming into his and Patton’s room, slamming the door behind him. Janus nearly fell backwards off his chair, matching Virgil’s surprised expression. Roman went silent, wincing slightly.

“What…” It was the first word he’d said the entire meal. Patton whipped his head towards him as if he’d forgotten he was there, a sudden sympathetic look on his face. He gave a weak smile.

“Sorry about that, kiddo. Logan has autism, sometimes he can’t handle the stimulus around him. Or maybe he just had a rougher day than I thought. I’ll check on him after dinner, give him some alone time.”

Logan has autism.

Oh my god.

It was like everything clicked into place. His passionate talk about topics he was interested in that could rival Janus’ (if he would ever let himself infodump like he wanted). His mannerisms, his occasional emotional outbursts, his rigorous unbreakable schedule, it all made sense. For a brief second, Janus was elated. Someone like him, someone who understood! And if they accepted Logan, maybe they would be able to understand him, even if they presented different areas of the spectrum.

But… how would that look? Janus had hidden away his neurodivergent traits for so long, repressed them until he felt like he would literally explode… what if they thought he was faking it? It’s not like they knew him well, not with the amount of time he avoided being around them. They might think he was lying to get attention, didn’t want to be left out. Wanted to be special.

Patton seemed to be waiting for a response, he noted. He gave a curt nod, hoping it displayed that he was unbothered by Logan’s disability, before giving a stupid excuse about some reading to finish over break and darting back to his room. Remus joined him later, saying nothing about the fact that Janus was huddled under his weighted blanket, no book in sight. He sat down in front of the bed, a common habit of his now, and began to quietly talk about some new dark fantasy story he was designing, his lilting voice soothing Janus to sleep.

Time passed, winter came and went, and the end of second semester was drawing near. Janus was still careful with the way he presented to the others. They had picked up that he didn’t like physical contact, and though they never said a word about it, Patton’s lasagna recipe shifted, kept changing, until it no longer included mushrooms and zucchini. Janus refused to believe it was for his sake, though. He tried to join them for a couple movie nights, but the constant fear of stimming made his anxiety spike, therefore finding the need to stim more compelling, until he had to leave. It was getting harder, however, now that it was that pleasant in-between time where he understood how his new profs worked but it wasn’t exam season yet. His excuses were dwindling. Like always, Roman made his stupid quips that hurt him more than was probably intended, and he’d finally had enough.

Maybe that’s why he was staring out at the open lake in front of him, hands playing absentmindedly with the hem of his shirt as Patton and Remus squealed, sprinting into the water without a second thought. One of their shirts had landed on Janus’ sandaled foot, and he quickly kicked it off as the light touch began to irritate him. Logan stood to his side, watching his boyfriend with an almost imperceivable smile.

“You guys could have helped carry stuff if you were just going to stand there!” Roman’s indignant voice carried over the lawn, muffled slightly by the pile of towels he was carrying. Virgil snorted, whether in agreement or at Princey’s expense, Janus didn’t know. Either way, he dumped his handful of lawn chairs unceremoniously onto the lawn at their feet.

“You two set these up then. I’m hot, I’m going swimming.”

“Damn right, you are,” Roman grinned. Virgil raised an eyebrow.

“Damn right I’m hot, or I’m going swimming?”

“Yes.” He didn’t give any of them a second to retort, scooping up a shrieking Virgil before sprinting them both into the water.

“They didn’t even take their shirts off,” Logan commented, picking up a chair from the pile and unfolding it. Janus quickly joined in, helping him set the four chairs into a line and placing the towels down in front of them. “Did you want to go swimming?”

Admittedly, Janus hadn’t actually gone swimming, much less to the beach, since he was a kid. He was lucky to have even found a swimsuit amongst his other barely worn clothing; how it had snuck into his suitcase, he didn’t know. The water looked inviting and it was hot, but right now he was exhausted from the long ride over in Remus’ truck, having to refrain from plugging his ear when it got too loud or maintain his breathing carefully when a leg touched his.

“Maybe in a bit. I’m kind of tired.”

Logan turned to look at him, dare he say scrutinizingly? He washed the expression away quickly, asking, “Would you like me to stay with you?”

“No, it’s okay,” Janus mumbled, “You go have fun. I’ll be fine, I like the quiet.” As if to punctuate his point, a child screamed from the playground, making them both flinch.

“Are you positive?”

“Yes. Go enjoy yourself, Logan.”

He nodded curtly, pulling his shirt over his head in one fluent motion and walking towards the waves professionally, as if he were walking towards a lecture. Patton cheered from the water.

Janus didn’t concern himself with the time as it passed, instead letting his mind wander while he focused on a line of ants that were crawling up a tree next to him. It wasn’t until a fast approaching form caught his attention did he tear his eyes away, hearing him give a shout of “Be right back!”.

Remus plopped himself onto the towel next to him, still panting from the run, but grinning from ear to ear. As he ripped open a water bottle and drank greedily, Janus couldn’t help but stare. Water glistened on his skin like jewels in the afternoon sun, plastering his hair down over his jaw and eyes. His eyelashes were barely fluttering against his cheekbones as he guzzled nearly half of the bottle, his adam’s apple bobbing with each swallow. The jut of his shoulder, almost touching his throat, taking his weight as he leaned back on his arm… the whole thing was fascinating. People interested Janus as a whole; the way they functioned, how they seamlessly picked up on little cues from others that Janus was still in the process of figuring out, even down to intricate biology of cells was incredibly captivating. But Remus was so much more than that. His voice when he spoke him to sleep, never mentioning it the next day, the way his dark eyes glimmered with hope when Janus agreed to eat with them, the twitch of his moustache as he covered a laugh at Patton’s corny jokes.

He was art, plain and simple.

Janus didn’t know if what he felt was romantic attraction. It sure felt like it, except it had never felt quite like this before. It wasn’t that he was asexual or anything, he was actually decently far from it. It was just how uncomfortable most physical contact made him that gave him the idea he might never have a partner in the way that he wanted. He wanted to hold hands, to cuddle, to kiss… but at the same time, he didn’t. That is, he didn’t know how he’d handle it. Sure, he’d had crushes in the past, cute boys from his classes or celebrities in the shows he hyperfixated on, and still the feeling of uncertainty had stayed. With Remus, something was different though. Never before had a crush ever felt so breath stealing, chest clenching, awe inspiring-

“Like what you see?”

Janus flinched, realizing Remus had finished drinking and was beaming at him with that stupid gorgeous gleam in his eyes. He looked at his lap immediately, feeling his face heat up.

“Sorry.”

“Not a problem,” Remus smirked, having the audacity to wink at him before standing up. “I’m going back in. Coming?” He reached out his hand, hopeful. Janus took a breath, acknowledging that this was his first time initiating contact since he’d arrived, and grabbed Remus’ hand. The surprise on the other’s face was almost enough to make him laugh. He pulled the younger to his feet, keeping a firm hold in Janus’ hand. And… that was okay.

Until it wasn’t.

The second his feet touched the sand, it was like alarm bells exploded behind his eyes. He couldn’t describe it, but it felt wrong. It gave in too much, light sprinkles of sand covered the top of his feet and instantly every nerve was on high alert. He ripped his hand from Remus’, stumbling backwards onto the grass again. The elder spun to him with concern.

“Snakey? What happened?”

“I- hmm, no. I can’t. Nope. No no no. Wrong. It… hmmmm. Can’t.” The last word dragged out as his brain seemed to disconnect from his mouth. His mind didn’t work, so focused on how every blade of grass was swiping along his soles too softly, too gentle, too much. His hands had curled into fists and he was fighting against everything inside him to scream bloody murder, because oh god the wind was brushing the hair onto the back of his neck and it tickled and make it stop make it stop!

Janus could vaguely hear someone shout, and the loudness floored him. Get away, get away, it’s too much it’s too much. The feeling of the grass was gone, and he was sitting on his beach towel, but the wind was still brushing his hair too much, so he grabbed at it uselessly, begging it to stop, stop, stop.

“What’s happening?” Roman.

“Is he okay?” Patton.

“Does he look okay?” Virgil.

“Janus, breathe. You’re safe.” Logan.

Yeah, he knew that. He knew, objectively, that the wind isn’t out to get him and grass doesn’t hurt and sand isn’t supposed to fry your nerves. That didn’t change the fact that it did for him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, it connected that they were seeing him have a meltdown, finally. But he couldn’t focus on that, not when someone was touching his arm why are they touching my arm LET GO!

He screamed now, he couldn’t hold it back anymore. His breaths were ragged and gaspy, hands ripping at his hair to try and stop the fluttering strands. Then there was a new sound, an engine, a boat, and with it came the deep bass of some terrible music and there were people shouting and his head was hurting, why was it hurting so bad?! New hands grabbed his wrists and he writhed, pulling back from the grip that was pulling his fists away from where they’d been hitting his skull, over and over, trying to just get his stupid brain to work. Come back to the present, ground yourself, do SOMETHING!

And then something was in his hands.

His eyes peeled open (when had he shut them?) and he saw the dark blue stress ball, almost crushed between his fingers. The hands were gone from his wrist, and he took a deep breath, relaxing his hand and watching the slime filled toy slowly return to its natural shape. It was just like one from his drawer, the first stim toy he’d ever gotten. Familiarity. He kneaded it under his fingers, enjoying the comforting texture, the color soothing to his sensitive eyes. Bit by bit he felt himself relax, still holding the toy inches from his face between stiff hands, letting his legs unfurl. Without thinking, he raised a shaking hand to his chin and did the sign for ‘water’, and immediately regretted it. It was just such a habit around his parents, the only other people who had seen him break down to this extent, how could he be so-

He flinched as a water bottle was pressed into his raised hand, the lid already taken off. The water was so good, settling his senses and grounding him, like he’d been in hyperfocus before and it was dulled now. He gave the stress ball another squeeze, captivated by the way the slime moved, not even flinching as someone snapped in front of him.

Looking up for the first time, his first instinct was to crawl into a hole and die. Logan was sitting in front of him, slowly putting the cap back on his water bottle before handing it back to Patton, who was standing just behind him. Roman and Virgil had begun packing the chairs and bags agonizingly slowly and quietly. Impressive; they were almost done and he hadn’t noticed until now. He turned to his left and his heart completely shattered. Remus was sitting statue still, a few feet away, with a look of pure fear in his eyes. He sat on the edge of his knees, like he wanted to pounce forward and hug him but was holding himself back. He appreciated that.

Logan snapped again and Janus turned back.

‘Better?’ He signed slowly.

‘You know sign?’ Janus responded weakly, confused.

‘Patton too. I go nonverbal as well. Are you okay?’

The younger nodded, returning his hands to the stim toy on his lap. ‘Yours?’

‘Yes.’

“Is he okay?” Remus whispered suddenly, drawing their attention. He looked so scared, like anything could break Janus and he was scared he would cause it. Oh. Did he think he caused this?

‘Not his fault.’

Logan looked between the two, a look of confusion settling in his face. “What?”

‘Not. His. Fault.’ He signed sharply, a frustrated hum emitting from the back of his throat. ‘Not his fault!’

“Remus, he’s saying it’s not your fault. What does that mean?”

“I- I took his hand, and then this happened…” Remus started, leaning back onto his feet ashamedly, “If that wasn’t the cause, what was?”

‘Sand.’

Logan’s eyes filled with understanding, and he responded, ‘Sand?’ as if to double check that he got the right sign. Janus nodded again, slightly thankful for the mute state he was in. He wouldn’t be able to explain this as well as Logan would.

“If I’m understanding right, then my first assumptions were correct. Janus, did you just experience a sensory overload?”

Janus could only nod, meeting his eyes shakily. This is the moment. Now is his segway. If Logan wasn��t already suspicious, he surely was now. And he’d rather not have to explain, or come up with some half assed excuse if he was confronted later on why sinking his foot into sand had made him break.

‘I’m autistic.’ He fingerspelled it, not knowing what the sign was, or if there even was one. There was a beat of silence, the twins and Virgil exchanging puzzled looks, and Janus couldn’t even bear to look at the two people who would have understood. All his fears came rushing back. Would they think he was lying, or seeking attention, or or or-

“Oh, sweetie,” Patton crooned, sitting cross legged beside Logan, “We thought maybe… well, the possibility came up in conversation before. Lo was the one who brought it up.”

“Yes. Though our experiences differ, you seemed to exhibit symptoms that are common to the ASD spectrum. I thought it feasible, but did not wish to offend or frighten you by mentioning it.”

“We thought that if you were autistic, it would be yours to tell us,” Patton smiled softly.

“Wait,” Remus interrupted, “Janus, you have autism?”

Janus’ nervous glance up must have been enough to clue the rest of the group in, because Roman sighed and ducked his head into Virgil’s shoulder while Logan messily signed something which roughly translated to ‘how dense can someone be’. Jan couldn’t tell if it was a joke or not, but he cracked a smile anyways.

“Shit. Dude, I’m so sorry,” Roman murmured into Virgil’s shirt, “All the times I made fun of you for not joining us or anything, that was way out of line. I truly apologize.”

The youngest gave him the worldwide gesture for ‘it’s okay’; not exactly ASL, but it got his point across. Everything was packed up now, and Janus realized the implications.

‘Home?’ He asked Logan, eyebrows scrunched together.

‘Yes. You need to rest.’ He was right, he was exhausted. Getting to his feet along with Patton and Logan, he reached down to grab his towel, only for it to be promptly swooped up by Roman.

“I… I got it. Don’t worry about it. Okay?”

As soon as Roman turned his back, Janus couldn’t help his heavy sigh. This was another reason he had refrained from telling anyone. He didn’t want to be seen as a burden, or worse, a child. He didn’t need help with menial tasks like grabbing a towel. Virgil and him lifted all the belongings again, with less complaining this time, and began the short trek to the truck.

‘He’s not babying you,’ Logan signed, as if reading his mind, ‘He’s just guilty. If you want my advice, get as much out of it as you can.’

“Logan!” Patton chastised, failing miserably at hiding a smirk.

“Guys?” Remus’ uncharacteristically timid voice prompted them to turn back, “Could I talk to Janus for a sec?”

“You understand he is unable to speak at the moment, correct?” Logan raised an eyebrow, probably coming off more harsh than he meant to.

“I know. Just… please?”

The other two shared a knowing look that Janus didn’t understand, before Logan turned to Janus. “Is that okay?”

The youngest nodded, watching over his shoulder as the lovebirds joined hands, leaving him and Remus alone. When he met his eyes again, he was standing much closer, eyes searching nervously.

“Maybe this will actually be easier since you can’t talk,” he laughed, before his face fell dramatically, “Fuck, that’s not what I meant. I’m such an idiot, I didn’t mean-”

Janus held up a hand quickly, as if to say ‘it’s fine, settle down’, holding back a snicker. He’d understand if someone was upset by the comment, but he’d learn to take Remus’ jokes lightly. He never meant to actually offend, sometimes he just… blurted without intending to. He rolled his finger in a ‘keep going’ motion.

“Shit. Okay,” He’d never seen Remus blush, or stumble over his words before. Not like this, at least, “Now, don’t feel obligated to say you feel the same or anything, okay? This is just, my feelings, and mine alone,” A deep breath, “I like you, Snakey. I like you a lot. More than… more than a friend.”

Oh.

Janus was ninety percent sure he died right then and there. But Remus kept going, tripping over his words in a way that was so unlike him, and yet so perfect.

“I have for a while. I never said anything because I thought, maybe you disliked me? After today though, I think… well, maybe I was misinterpreting those signals. Like I misinterpreted today. That you didn’t want to be around me, no matter how hard I tried.”

Okay, Janus took it back. He wanted to be able to talk now, but his voice came out as another low hum, and he slapped his hand over his mouth, embarrassed. Remus pressed on, unfazed.

“Snakey, I swear to you, that you having autism doesn’t change those feelings at all. It’s not a bad thing, or a flaw, it’s just you. And everything about you is amazing, and perfect, and this is just another thing I get to learn about you. Any fears you had around telling us, telling me, you don’t need to have them.”

He’d never felt this kind of feeling before. In that second, he knew for a fact that this wasn’t a crush that he had on Remus. That wasn’t possible, because a crush had never made him want to break his social barriers like this. A crush had never made him want to make an exception, to stand on his tip toes and kiss him, even if the thought of a new touch usually caused goosebumps to rise on his arms. Because he felt so safe, so blissfully numb, so comfortable with Remus, that he’d be willing to give it a try.

This wasn’t a crush. This was-

“I love you,” Remus whispered, his statement accompanied by a large shaky breath.

He couldn’t say it back, not right now. Later, he would. For sure. Maybe a hundred times. So he did what he’d never thought possible and took that step forward, breaking his bubble that he’d always thought to be unbreakable.

It’s okay. You’re okay. This is okay.

For once, he actually believed it.

Janus reached a hand up, slowly, and rested it on Remus’ face. It wasn’t light, he couldn’t do half touches. It was solid, warm, real. Not a tickling touch that made him twitch, or a brush by that stole the very breath from his lungs. The positive response affirmed his will power, and he leaned up onto his tip toes. Remus looked absolutely stunned, but he didn’t pull away, he couldn’t if he tried. His breath caught in his throat as the elder glanced down, an unmistakable look to his lips.

Had Remus always had those green flecks in his eyes?

And he kissed him. Janus surged forward, pressing their lips together harsher than he’s intended, pulling a small gasp out of Remus. There was a whoop from the vague direction of where they’d parked, followed by a loud smack, and Janus couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips.

Remus’ hands were clasped at his chest, unmoving, probably afraid that if he touched Janus wrong, this would all be over. He’d have to explain half touches later. For now, he took one of his hands in his free one and guided it around, pushing it into the small of his back until Remus got the message to keep that pressure. He let out a small sigh through his nose, an action that sent a new round of butterflies exploding in the younger’s stomach.

This is okay.

This is all going to be okay.

#lywrites #sanderssides #sanderssidesfanfiction #demus #prinxiety #logicality #autistic janus #sanders sides college au

300 notes · View notes

passivenovember · 3 years

Text

Let the Great World Spin.

Steve made the mistake of asking what Billy's major in Romantic Literature was, exactly, like two minutes after moving the last box into their new apartment. He tucked each corner of a baby blue fitted sheet into one side of the mattress while Billy worked on the other and wondered aloud If spending all day writing artsy-fartsy poems would be able to pay the bills.

Billy had frowned, and.

Clenched his jaw. Raised a dismissive hand when Steve began his usual parade of that's not what I meant and hey I'm sorry when Billy snatched his special box of shit--

A treasure chest containing rolls of floss, tube tops made of repurposed bandanas, one vintage lava lamp and a stack of True Crime trading cards--four from Dustin and one from Max--

Off the dresser before moving into the living room.

Steve followed, because.

Yeah.

He watched from the tasteful archway as Billy threw his box on the coffee table, lava oozing through ridges and tears in flimsy cardboard, and made up the couch with sunburnt looking cheeks.

Billy passed out there, with book on his chest, every night for a month.

So.

Naturally they were off to a great start.

Steve tried to apologize but Billy wasn't merciful. As annoying as it was cute, he couldn't deny it was one of his favorite things about Billy, the way he made people work for a spot in his life.

Steve tried to sweeten the deal.

A new Metallica tape here. Primary status library card there, but.

Billy wouldn't give.

Ever the poet, he didn't bury corpses in the sand until grand gestures were made. Declarations. Speeches. So on Friday night after spending two hours at the pub and returning home to find Billy asleep on the couch with a towel around his head, Steve climbed onto the coffee table and started talking.

"Billy Hargrove," Steve announced.

Billy started drooling on his chin.

Steve cleared his throat, embracing a more heroic stance; hands on narrow hips, foot on Billy's cardboard treasure box. "William Patrick Hargrove."

Billy startled awake, towel going lopsided as he sat up. He stared wildly around the room, raising his copy of Let the Great World Spin and aiming it at Steve's head. Poising the paperback to crack walls made of flesh and bone.

Steve held out his hands. "Wait, I just--"

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"I have something to say."

Billy snatched the towel from his head, folding it with as much grace as a hurricane. "What time is it, Harrington?"

Steve checked his watch, blinking sharply as the numbers started doing the macarena. He sighed. "Doesn't matter. Look--"

Billy looked.

Steve lifted his arms. Cleared his throat and repositioned himself on the coffee table to show that, after tonight, they would never have to be alone again. Billy's mouth cocked patiently as the third leg on the coffee table snapped and Steve fell headfirst into a mountain of beanbags.

"Fuck this," Billy stood, grabbing his paperback from where it lay discarded over ratty green carpet. "Let's go to bed already."

Steve gaped at him. "You don't wanna hear what I have to say?"

"What, you gonna finally admit that you love me, or something?" Billy scrubbed adorably at his eyes, and.

Steve clambered to his feet, noticing for the first time that Billy looked tired, and admiring the way his curls stuck out in every direction like a wad of blonde pipe cleaners. Steve opened his mouth to speak. To preach, but Billy was already hobbling away, sweatpants wedged up his ass.

"Love you too, shithead, 'm fuckin' tired."

Steve wanted to burst into song.

Or burst into tears, but.

The bedroom door slammed shut.

Apparently, scribbling love stories on the backs of takeout menus can funnel into all sorts of practical things. Like kitchens full of new pots and pans, monthly oil changes for Steve's car, and a pantry stocked with individually wrapped protein bars from the organic store across town.

They finally start sleeping in the same room again when Billy lands his first job as a research assistant.

For Steve this means getting to quit his shitty job at Family Video and focus on school, in between guitar lessons and trips to the farmers market.

For Billy, this means spending fifty hours a week in the office of a PhD. that definitely wants to fuck him and focusing only on school.

Forgetting their anniversary in favor of Shakespeare's Life and Work, Masterpieces of World Literature, an Entire course on John Milton's Paradise Lost. Steve forgives him until a lecture series on Folklore has Billy crying every night over the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice.

Asking Steve red-eyed, coffee induced, panicked questions like; "Would you follow me into the underworld?"

So Steve holds him. "Of course I would."

"Even after I missed our anniversary?"

And Steve doesn't have anything to say to that, so.

He goes to bed alone, just like every night, while Billy falls to pieces in the next room.

It's maddening.

The tentative bones of each of Billy's fingers are sure to peek through before graduation. Skin caught between the pages of books, left behind like loose pencil shavings as Billy puts one pad in front of the other, marching on his way to The Great Big Somewhere.

By March, Billy's a shell of a man. Sleeping less than five hours a night, burning through packs of tea candles because he studies under a haze flickering amber, like some sort of medieval poet, and only eating one meal a day if Steve cooks it for him.

And Steve's worried.

Crying on the phone to Joyce. Throwing up in the toilet when Billy passes out at the supermarket. Preparing himself to be a widow at twenty-five.

So.

He decides to say something.

The first time he brings it up Billy pours rice milk into his lap.

The second time he bursts into tears over a stack of files.

So.

Steve decides to put a sock in it.

But then it's April. Spring Break. Steve expects that they'll follow through with their plan to visit Hawkins, but right as their bag is packed to board the train home, Billy insists on staying back to finish his dissertation.

Steve throws his suitcase at the wall. Billy bursts into tears and locks himself in the bedroom. One phone call to Joyce and half a sentence from Hooper proves it; Billy will starve to death if Steve leaves him alone.

So they stay in New York. Cooped up in their massive, empty, hard-earned apartment while Billy writes about love without ever showing it.

Steve thinks about leaving.

Just.

Packing his shit in the middle of the night, sticking a note to the fridge with the magnet Billy had made for their first anniversary, but.

This will pass. That's what Steve keeps telling himself; Billy will have his Masters soon, that precious slice of paper that burned their relationship to the ground, and then they'll move to a house on a lake like Steve's always wanted, and.

Love won't exist between the pages of a book anymore it'll be real. Like first meetings on a high school basketball court, secret kisses at the top of a Farris wheel, Sunday mornings in green meadows.

Love will fall just like it used to.

Bright red across hardwood floors.

The last and final straw comes at 4:45 in the morning.

Billy punches their lamp off the table in his sleep, shouting about the structure of a novel and cutting his knuckles open and that's it.

Steve has, well and truly, had enough.

He tells Billy just as much over a stack of alcohol wipes and a fist that, luckily, doesn't need stitches. Steve tries not to cry, and then tries not to weep, and.

Fails.

When the love of Steve's life falls to his knees and says, "I'm exhausted," and it feels true.

Like red books full of hymnals.

Steve fails when Billy hugs him around the waist and says, "I only ever write about you," and it feels heavy.

Like shattering church windows.

Steve cries and he hates himself. And Billy. And the universe; nuns and religion. Mountains, valentines day cards, bouquets of lilies, and poetry most of all. When his fingers card through fuzzy blonde curls.

Steve tugs his poet closer, and.

Decides to follow him anywhere.

#harringrove #harringrove april #day three #spring break #angst with a happy ending

26 notes · View notes

midnightmoonkiss · 5 years

Text

If Only.

Izuku Midoriya X Fem! Reader

Summary: Who knew having to work on a Saturday could make your pouty boyfriend turn to petty revenge?

WARNINGS!: Short mention of masturbation. Teehee.

Category: Smut / Crack?

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: A weird short fic I came up with at midnight because I was bored.

Just To Clarify:

Reader and Izuku have been dating for a long while

They do not live together

Izuku is precious but also a little shit.

Of course.

This type of shit always seemed to happen to him.

It had been nearly a month now since he had a weekend off, a weekend to spend time with you, his lovely girlfriend.

Now that he finally had that time off, of course your asshole of a boss had to ruin the lovely date he had been planning to surprise you with by calling you in to write up a stupid ass report that could have definitely waited until Monday.

It really grinded his fucking gears.

Het whined and tried to beg you to stay home early this morning when you called him and told him of this sudden development.

If only you lived together, or if only you had spent the night at his apartment… maybe he could have convinced you to tell your boss off. He was blessed with a skillful tongue after all, one capable of bringing you wave after wave of pleasure as he made himself at home between your glorious thighs.

He sighed heavily, getting up from off his bed where he laid brooding just to go out and collapse back onto his couch.

He could use some of that sunlight pouring in from the large windows.

His room was dark, curtains drawn as if to hide from the world so he could be all pouty by himself.

But it was noon now, and he needed to come out eventually.

On the brighter side of things, he got to catch up on a bit of lost sleep.

That wasn’t enough.

Actually? Fuck sleep.

He’d rather be out on your date he planned with you.

Gah!

Sure, he had tomorrow to spend with you, but who wants to do anything on a Sunday?

Lazy Sunday!

The day reserved for people to relax and.. and be lazy!

A day to cuddle.

A day to use his girlfriends’ boobs as a pillow.

One he’d much rather be using now than the stiff one currently under his head.

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, just so that he could stare blankly up at the ceiling fan idly spinning in a circle.

His thoughts drifted to you again.

He wondered what you were doing.

Was it lunch break time for you yet?

No.. you had lunch around 11.

Damn. Maybe he could’ve visited you…

He groaned, flinging himself off the couch, dragging his mismatched sock covered feet over to the kitchen so he could begrudgingly make himself some coffee.

He propped his elbows on the counter, leaning his body down just so he could watch in childish wonder as the tan liquid rained down in a heavy stream from the Tassimo coffee machine he had recently purchased.

Coffee was never really his thing as a kid, but as the stress of his late teen years consumed his exhausted body, he quickly found that coffee could be an amazing friend.

Thus started his addiction, fueled on by his friends, mother, and hell - even you.

Something about.. ‘Joining the ranks of eternal, bitter madness.’

Whatever the fuck that meant.

You’re a goofy shit, he can’t tell what half the crap you say means anyway.

That’s why he loved you, though.

Always kept on his tiptoes.

He could always read people so easily, predict their moves almost to a T, but you? Damn if he wasn’t left with questions every time you met up.

You could say, in a way, you were like coffee.

Something he didn’t know he needed until it hit him in the face and caused him to fall down three flights of stairs.

He smiled to himself as he sipped at his steaming hot cup o’ joe.

That day was painful, but in the long run - he sure was glad it happened. Even if he did have a first degree burn from the boiling hot coffee you spilled on him.

Yeah. That meeting wasn’t exactly dreamish like how most couples described how they met.

Then again, his best friend did meet the love of his life on Grindr, so who knows?

Couples just like to sugar coat things in order to look good in front of others.

Him? No. He didn’t sugar coat anything. How you met was funny, and it always brought a smile to people’s faces.

It even made his mom pass out from laughing so hard.

Absolutely mad.

You brought a good crazy to his life.

That’s why he needed you.

Especially now.

He was lonely, and all this reminiscing just made him miss you even more.

With the buzz of caffeine coursing through his body, he felt more energized than before.

He wanted to text you.

Surely he could, right?

But what about?

He pulled at his bottom lip, eyebrows furrowed as he paced around his silent apartment, deep in thought about ways to suddenly ‘slide into your dms.’

…

He stopped, a sinister smirk creeping onto his angelic face.

oh , he certainly knew how to catch your attention.

He didn’t waste a second of his time, teeth chewing at his lip as he made his way back into the bedroom, turning on his red lava lamp to envelop his dark room in that sinful glow you loved so much.

He stripped himself of his shirt as he sat down on his bed, hand coming up to style his curly green hair in a way he knew you liked from all those seductive stares you’d give him.

This was all about you.

Well, him too he supposed, but honestly? He wanted to give you a peek at what could’ve been if only you stayed home.

No doubt you’d find him cruel, perhaps respond with hostility, but he craved it.

He loved teasing you.

And getting a bit of petty revenge.

Besides, this was your fault, after all. None of this would have been unlocked if you hadnt given him a major boost in confidence with every kiss against his skin, every praise, every longing stare.

You should have known what you had gotten yourself into.

He let his ‘innocent’ thoughts drift to the dirtier side of his mind, trailing a hand down his toned stomach just to palm his already half-hard self through his boxers. What could he say? He got worked up quite easily when it came to his princess.

For a guy publically labeled ‘The Epitome Of Purity,’ his thoughts surely would prove everyone who thought that wrong with just how explicit they were.

Images of you flashed through his mind, your face so cute and angelic as his cock fucked your throat raw.

Boy, did he wish you were here, doing just that instead of his hand that had just now wrapped around himself.

He indulged for a moment, getting lost in the sweet pleasure his experienced hand brought to him, spare arm flung over his eyes as he moaned breathlessly into the quiet air.

After a few more pumps mixed with thrusts of his easily excited hips, his hand was coated in the precum he always seemed to make too much off.

He groaned in frustration as he realized he’d have to perform his next task with his left hand, he could only hope it’d turn out well and not a shaky mess as it has been before.

He grabbed his phone conveniently left on his bedside table, thumbprint quickly unlocking it.

He entered the camera app, tapping on the camera switch tool so that his face was shown on the screen.

Oh.

Hm.

Perfection.

He looked impatient, desperate like he was having a good time and couldn’t wait for you to join in the fun. He knew full well you couldn’t, you wouldn’t get off from work for another four hours - that’s where the revenge came into play. You’d sit there in your office cubicle, knowing damn well by the time you got to him he would have already finished and started dinner. His cheeks were a pretty rouge, pupils blown wide.

Moving the camera back, he fought for the perfect angle, wanting this picture - and maybe a few more after, to be absolutely perfect.

The red glow of the lamp showered his body in a lewd light, sweat glimmering even on the screen.

He made sure his fully hard and throbbing cock dripping with pre-cum was in the picture, having to sacrifice the top half of his head in order to fit it in.

His hairstyling went to waste for this one picture, but he’d be sure to include it in others.

His pecs were covered in faded marks you had left on him from nights ago, nipples perky and wanting some rough attention.

He gave a lopsided grin, the only part of his face that was in the picture was his mouth, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to use it to make your blood boil.

He snapped the picture, and a few more in different poses for later use.

The end result? A new private photo album labeled ‘Pictures To Send To (Y/N) To Get Her Panties In A Twist.’

God, he’s an ass when he wants to be.

With a dark, twisted look in his eyes and a creepy smile on his freckled face, he sent the photo to you, body shivering in anticipation. His thumb hovered over the send button, ready to send a reply to his photo once he saw that you read it.

Meanwhile, you had just finished typing up a long report when your phone buzzed with a message.

Hope surged in your chest, praying it was your cutsie boyfriend Izuku.

You hadn’t heard from him since 6AM when you called to deliver the disappointing news, and you had assumed he either went back to sleep or decided to work out till he passed out.

You really hoped it was the first option.

Maybe you could ask?

With a sigh of triumph, you emailed the report to your boss, fishing your phone from the far side of your desk where you had left it after lunch.

Ah!

It was Izuku~

You hummed in confusion when you noticed it wasn’t a message, but instead - an image?

Lips pursed, you swiftly unlocked your phone and opened the messenger app.

You nearly squealed when you saw the image - the embodiment of lewd and lust.

Fuck.

Your face was burning red, hair no doubt frizzing up as your face contorted into embarrassment and anger.

Suddenly, a reply popped up - one that made you fidget in your seat as a familiar wet heat started to pool between your thighs.

“If only you stayed home, huh?”

Oh, he was so going to get his ass beat once you got off work.

#izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader #izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #bnha #mha #izuku midoriya #izuku #deku #midoriya izuku #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #my hero academia x reader #n/sfw

688 notes · View notes

wondersbeyondcompare · 4 years

Text

More Majid Stuff

I post once in a blue moon b/c I work in random bursts and get tired easily, but here are some rambles about Majid that I’ve saved in my Notes app and probably haven’t mentioned before!

There are some rumors circulating around Majid regarding his wealth

More specifically: how he got his wealth

All these rumors range from him being a secret son of a noble family to taking shady underground jobs that paid ridiculously well

His name had been searched up more than once, but the only thing that pops up is a bakery business w/ a small branch located in the Land of Hot Sands... not too far from where Majid grew up...

Majid’s a quick learner; he just lacks the motivation lol

Tends to overthink too often, tho, coming up with detailed plans to get out of doing the most mundane stuff

Funny to watch but a pain in the ass to comprehend 😔

Although Majid tries to get out of doing most stuff, there are some things he can’t let slide

He can get picky over how some tasks are done; honestly??? this might be a good tactic on getting him to work (“Hey, Majid. Can you help set up the decorations for tonight’s party?” “No.” “Aaaa, okay, guess we’ll just have Mark do it-“ “Mark? You want to leave decorating to him? Do you want the lounge looking like a highlighter projectile vomited over the walls and ceiling? Give me those streamers. I’ll do it myself-“)

Definitely a quality over quantity kind of person; his room may be a mess of different things, but, rest assured, it’s only the best of the best of stuff that stay for long like lava lamps

I want to say that Majid is picky about a lot of things in general, but he does have his exceptions; for example: food, napping locations, job opportunities, ummm (･_･;) That’s most of what I can think of right now, dang

This pickiness is kiiind of 👉👈 referencing a trait that the Cave of Wonders has; like the whole “only a diamond in the rough shall enter here“ business that was going on idk I’m trying my best

As you can see, I went ham when it came to the “Who disturbs my slumber” line the tiger head had lol 😅(sorry that had become your defining trait, m’boi)

And the mass of riches he’s accumulated over the years was another obvious reference to the inside of the cave as well; can also act as a loose metaphor of what’s stopping him from getting the help he needs; as the treasures in the cave were put there w/ the intent of distracting a person from the ultimate goal of the magic lamp, so does his own treasures serve as a temporary distraction from moving forward in his life

But if that’s too much of a stretch, then plz slap the inner English teacher in me and then myself

Majid’s good at looking through people’s facades and judging a person’s true character, but it’s not like he does much w/ this info

Unless they try confronting him or something, he just avoids/shuts down people he gets bad vibes from

Doesn’t make tactless comments; figured out that dealing with pissed off people was more work than it’s worth

Boi tends to ask a lot of questions when speaking to other people; partly b/c of trust issues; partly b/c he might be lowkey judging you (can’t use his unique magic all the time after all :/)

He’s the type of person who acts like he knows everything, but he really doesn’t; just hates getting looked down upon in general; will bluff his way through situations by being as vague as possible

He leans towards how his mother used to speak; that is: beating around the bush

He won’t lie to you, but it might take some time until he’ll give you the whole truth; and when I say it’ll take some time, IT REALLY WILL TAKE SOME TIME B/C THIS BOY IS UNBELIEVABLY STUBBORN

Is casual to whoever he speaks to, no matter the age; if he gets extremely annoyed with someone, especially if they’re older than him, he’ll use this over exaggerated polite tone that makes it real obvious he’s fed up with them

Gets ticked off whenever anyone advises him to do anything, but he’ll still take that advice to heart

Majid’s probably tired all the time b/c of all the jewelry he’s carrying around smh

Majid sounds/looks like he’s angry all the time, but that’s just his resting face 😔; I mean, he’s always a little irritated, but it’s mostly b/c he’s stuck in that state of being forced awake from a deep afternoon nap (b/c... that’s usually what happens to him)

Plus, have you met his upperclassmen? Have you seen what was going on in Scarabia during Chapter 4?????? Have you met the headmaster of this school???????? (; ω ; )

He doesn’t like people touching stuff that’s his; same thing goes for people touching stuff in general that aren’t theirs; doesn’t like thieves (he’s stolen stuff when he was younger, but he justifies that he only did so to survive; and he’s not entirely wrong)

Ironic b/c his mom was a thief 🤭

He’s also a pretty obedient student save for the whole “trying to sleep in class w/o getting caught” thing that he’s still trying to accomplish; doesn’t like it when the professors get strict with him but will grit his teeth and bear with it

Prefers magic carpets to magic broomsticks; there’s just a lot more surface area when it comes to carpets plus he’s more familiar with the former

Spends a lot of his time in the Scarabia storage room b/c it reminds him of his bedroom back home; probably became buddies w/ Kalim’s magic carpet while he was there too

But if we’re talking about the type of people Majid could tolerate befriending uummm... maybe those with good hearts?? Idk, like those who are genuinely trying to be a good person no matter what kind of obstacles they run into (referencing how the cave of wonders only let a diamond in the rough enter)

They don’t have to be all nice or sweet, but as long as Majid can tell they have kind intentions, he won’t immediately leave them

Has a “haaah... these guys are hopeless... might as well keep an eye on them so they don’t screw up any more than they already have” attitude towards these people

Other type of person Majid would unintentionally befriend are those who are also annoyed of being told what to do by upperclassmen/authority figures; ☺️🙏 vent out your frustrations together wooo

Has some squabbles with Leona when it comes to napping locations

It’s actually pretty funny to watch b/c they both don’t want to give up their spot but also they don’t want to bother getting up

Leona wins most of the time, tho

Majid may have had a lot of energy when he was younger but now he’s a g e d

I rarely mention Majid’s lava illusion magic thing, but yeah that’s a thing; he probably won’t be able to use it to its full extent until his last year of high school and maybe a little bit later; it takes up a ton of energy; I keep on imagining him using it and joking that “aaaa the floor is lava lol”, but then I remember the psychological effects this ability has on the victim and 😬 yikes scratch that

Majid has a loud clear voice when he speaks; often startles whoever’s walking by when he naps in the shadows

As a result of spending most of his time w/o a stable support system and no one static to guide his beliefs, Majid doesn’t follow any particular religion; he does have coworkers back at the curio/appraisal/pawn shop who do, tho, and while he doesn’t entirely understand it, he respects them as much as he can

I’ve said before that Majid selfishly keeps all his wealth to himself for fear of losing his self worth, but there are some exceptions (such as to anyone he passes who’s begging in the streets, a coworker who’s struggling to make ends meet, etc.)

He’s fine with giving away some money, but not in huge amounts

And if he’s giving money to anyone, it’s done in a round about way; usually w/ a dismissive excuse

If this boi had a route, depending on how the MC acts around him, the majority of it will be spent breaking down those walls and befriending him; generally going like this: shovel all trust issues into incinerator one by one —>Get him to tolerate you —> Get him to trust you —> Befriend (?) Him —> Deal w/ his other deep seated issues —-> Romance (if we’re going for that otome game kinda thing i guess???))

I can just imagine Majid temporarily visiting the Land of Hot Sands w/ MC after befriending him and finding out the truth about his parents through his boss at the curio shop; MC encourages him to travel north to pay a visit at some facility b/c it’s rumored that at least his father is still alive

(No idea what happened to Lara; probably suffered worse consequences due to making several prison breaks; had decently powerful magical abilities, so that would probably explain the whole forced amnesia thing that happened after their disappearance)

Majid is torn b/w wanting to go alone b/c this is a personal matter (And he wants MC to be safe) and being scared of losing MC if something horrible happens to him on his journey north; he knows what it’s like to be suddenly abandoned, and he doesn’t want that for anybody, especially for someone he cares about

He doesn’t want to repeat his father’s mistakes, regardless if it was accidental or not

Majid decides to go on his own; probably had some touching parting w/ MC; maybe we’ll go full otome and have a hugging CG where he swears that he will be back for MC

And MC is just like “Aight;;; cool;;; good luck;;”; something sentimental like that

Couple of days passed; we’re worried about him

He returns with a worried look on his face before breaking into a relieved smile when he sees MC; power walks to hug them even tighter than before

Majid thanks them for all they’ve done; he then spends the rest of the day and well into the night describing all he’s experienced and his visit with his dad

They go back to NRC and Majid is less bratty than before, much to the surprise of Jamil and to the delight of Kalim; actually starts to make an effort to not push people away at every opportunity (b/c he originally felt like they all had their own hidden agenda and were just using him for their own gain, y’know)

Boi becomes even more clingy towards MC; by that, I don’t mean he’s overly attached to them (he’s afraid of making the same mistake he did in the past), but rather he shows it through light casual touches here and there (a brush of the fingers when exchanging papers, patting MC’s head when they do something well, gently tugging at their sleeve when he needs their attention) and constantly checking up on them to see how they’re doing

Awkward levels in Majid increase as he constantly wonders if he’s crossing a line when it comes to him showing any kind of affection; he doesn’t want to come off as creepy and make MC hate him

Might also resist being given love and affection at first; but once he gets used to it, he absolutely m e l t s

Cuddles are 👌; might give teary eyes if MC tries to leave early during a cuddling session, but he won’t pressure them to stay; a touch starved boi

Doesn’t think much of PDA, giving or receiving; full on making out and anything further is kind of a no-go, tho; hugging is nice and so are short and sweet kisses; will glare at anybody who says anything about it

If his s/o was clingier than he is, he might get a little embarrassed; same thing goes if his s/o was really cute

Definitely the type of boyfriend to buy random gifts for his s/o b/c these things reminded him of them

Younger Majid was in full on puppy mode all the time, or at least when he was around people he liked; also a huge people pleaser too, since he was afraid of them leaving him

He was probably reckless too in order to entertain his friends

Was really polite, especially when it came to adults; always calling them Mister and Miss(us)

He was also just loud

Future Majid (if he came to terms with most of his problems) would be more mellow than his teenage self; still anti-social but he’s less angry at the world now; would go on to own the curio shop after the previous owner passed on; reverted it into both a jewelry/appraisal shop in order to honor his father plus respect the previous owner’s memory as well

Sells and repairs jewelry and appraises supposedly rare items that come through his store; still does odd jobs for the people in the neighborhood but his prices aren’t as outrageously high as he made them when he was younger

He names the new store after his mother, at the request of his father (plus I only recently heard the song “House of Gold” by Twenty One Pilots and hnnnmmg it fits well with this golden boy)

Majid is interested in most things related to jewelry, probably subconsciously influenced by his father; this includes repairing bits of jewelry; he moves delicately when it comes to these kinds of tasks

He’s a night owl; it’s much quieter at night

Has bad posture from sleeping in different weird places

His body is prone to heating up easily; the fact that he lives in the Land of Hot Sands and was also sorted into Scarabia is just unfortunate luck

Sneaks off to cooler areas on campus in his free time to chill; one of his favorite spots is the Octavinelle lounge since it’s air conditioned and dark, and he can get away with taking a nap before going over his time limit and getting kicked out

The library is nice too (´∀｀)

Would like to go to Ignihyde too, but he’s put off by the feeling of being underground (gotta have that bit of irony like Jamil being afraid of bugs 👌)

He tolerates Kalim better than Jamil; probably b/c the latter scolds him for slacking off

Actually went to Kalim for tutoring advice once before realizing part of the way that his senior had no idea what he was doing; Jamil has earned his respect when it comes to academics

Kinda jealous of the duo’s stamina; Majid’s usually heaving for air after long marches or if he’s ever chosen as a backup dancer for one of Scarabia’s many parties; he’s the ( ・∇・) least athletic of my OCs...

No, he can’t dance, but he can feign the movements well enough to not get caught

#twisted wonderland oc #twst ocs #twisted wonderland ocs #twst oc #twst oc art #art #twisted wonderland oc art #writing #my art #my post #Majid #mun taro speaks #everytime i post about my ocs i see that one twitter post flash inside my mind #the one that goes like #me to my followers: hey im sorry i havent been posting about my ocs that much but #followers: ??? wait??? you have ocs???#I LOVE SLEEPING TOO MUCH IM SORRY #anyway yeah heres my boy #its mostly just character stuff b/c ive gone over most of his background in his profile and his parents post #will i do the same for the other kids i have?? maybe if i get the energy to...#im just biased for majid #if you managed to get through everything on here congrats #you have my love and undying loyalty from now on #also i didnt really know where i was going with all of this #if it seems like im jumping from one idea to another its b/c i was

35 notes · View notes

surveys-at-your-service · 4 years

Text

Survey #307

“you lie so much, you believe yourself”

How long has it been since you kissed someone? Like, two years or so. What level are you on Farmville? Never played it. What are you looking forward to in the next year? I hope Covid just withers away, dammit. I truly, truly hope this vaccine is effective. And that people start wearing their GODDAMN masks. Do you use a lot of emoticons? Not really nowadays. Would you ever climb a mountain? No. Even if my legs were capable of handling that, I'd be too afraid of an avalanche. Colons or equal signs for your smiley face’s eyes? Colons. When was the last time you swam in a lake? A looooong time ago. If you could have anything right now, what would you want? It'd be great to chill at Sara's house honestly, I miss that. What’s your relationship status? Single and I think finally starting to truly accept I need to be right now. I wouldn't want to date myself in my current position, so I shouldn't expect anyone else to. When was the last time someone asked you your age? On my birthday when I mentioned in group therapy that I was trying to make it an especially good day about myself. When was the last time you danced? Very, very poorly with Sara years ago lmao. Has anyone ever tried to physically fight you? Someone snatched my arm and yanked me down to look her in the eyes in HS because she was a jealous bitch back then telling lies, but idk if her intention was to actually try to start a physical fight. Are you avoiding someone? No. What’s your favorite primary color? Red. What do you have pierced? Just my ears and bottom lip now. :/ I want morrrreeee. I'm forever tilted that so many of my piercings closed when I was hospitalized. What is your favorite dog breed? I find pugs to be very cute, but I do not support their breeding whatsoever so would never buy one. Besides them, I have a definite bias towards beagles. In your honest opinion, what is the scariest sea creature you know? Fucking Christ, giant squids. Terrifying. Do you believe there is just one love for everyone, or…? No. There are way, way, WAY too many people on this planet for that. What natural disaster scares you the most? Tornados. What outrageous career could you see yourself wanting to do? Define an "outrageous" career... but I can't visualize myself doing anything very unordinary. In what way would you want to help change the world? I truly hope I can make some considerable amount of contributions to natural conservation and animal education. When driving down the road looking for an address do you turn the radio low? I don't drive, but I know I would, considering I can't concentrate on driving if the radio is on anyway. What do you think of when you look at the stars? How little I and my problems really are. It gives me perspective. If you could say ONE THING to the president, what would it be? Well, Biden just got into office, so I can't really say yet. We'll see what he does. What Disney princess are you most like? Personality wise, I mean. Uh. I'unno. Maybe Snow White because animals? haha Do you believe in astrology? Not in the slightest. Do you look into people’s eyes when you talk to them? I try to, anyway, but I tend to find it very uncomfortable, and I never know if I'm offering too little or too much. So I have trouble maintaining it, especially with people I don't know. You can have one of the following two things: trust or love. Pick one. Trust. What do you think is the most important thing in this life is? Hm, that's a deep one. Perhaps the understanding that you are just as important as the next person and that we should work as one to make this one life that we know of worthwhile. Make the world better than when you entered it. What is your favorite shade of blue? Pastel blue. I just like pastels in general. When's the last time you bought something just because? I don't buy things "just because." If I actually have money to spend, I use it with motivation behind it. What Ozzy lyric describes you best? WHOA NOW HUNNY you are asking the WRONG person because I can just about name his entire discography so there are waaaay too many song lyrics to dig through and pick one for myself. Probably something from "Dreamer," after a short moment's consideration. When was the last time you went for a walk without a specific destination in mind? Not since Sara and I walked down the path near her house. We didn't plan on when we would turn around to go back. Do you daydream? Only all the time. What was your last daydream about? Ha, thanks to that other question, visiting Sara again. It'd be nice, but yeah, financial limitations and corona. Ever won the lottery? Bitch I wish. What was the most important decision you made that screwed up your life the most? Ugh... I'd say putting all my self-worth, happiness, and source of peace into one person was pretty big but also fucking stupid. What is love really about? Don't ask a romantic this and expect a non-essay, haha. But to keep it as short as possible, it's about mutual care, the desire to grow together, trust, openness, the peace to be vulnerable with the other... It's about a lot. It's such a deep, beautiful feeling. What's the most you ever made in a year? lol Do you have an online diary? Only through surveys, really. What's the biggest pot you've won in poker? I haven't played poker since I was a kiddo, so idr. What Metallica lyric most describes your life? Who wrote this and knows my favorite bands????? Like damn. There's a good handful of the sadder songs I relate to; I did some brief digging through ones I know I relate to, and perhaps the one I feel closest is within "The Unforgiven II": "The door is locked now, but it's open if you're true. If you can understand the me, then I can understand the you." Aaaand now I'm gonna go binge Metallica 'cuz it's been too long, thanks. How many concerts have you been to? Just one. :/ Which one was your favorite? I've only seen Alice Cooper, and it was great. What's the most illegal thing you've done? Pirated stuff, oops. Ever get busted by the cops? What for? No. How many pairs of rollerblades do/did you own? I doubt I have any anymore. Ever wear out a CD? What was it? Ahaha... There is some scratching on my mom's copy of Ozzmosis thanks to me playing it so much on my old CD player. Ever have a tornado in your town? Well my city is pretty damn big, so yes, in some spots. I don't think my immediate proximity has ever seen one, though. If you HAD to pick ONE song to listen to for the rest of your life, and that would be the only song you ever heard, what would it be? I would absolutely need something motivating if that was the case, so most likely "Life Won't Wait" by Ozzy Osbourne. That song touches me so deeply and gives me the courage to do what I can to tackle life and try not to waste it. I know, I'm doing a great job at that. Ever heard of Shinedown? Hell yeah; I was actually listening to them in the car earlier. What does your lawn furniture consist of? We have nothing out there. Ever live off of canned soup and ramen noodles for weeks at a time? Er, no. But when I got my tongue pierced, I had to survive off of popsicles and... I somehow forgot the main thing I ate???? How?????? But anyway it was something that didn't involve much or any chewing, either. I actually lost a little bit of weight in that week or so because eating solids was impossible, and I didn't enjoy "eating" liquids either. That piercing (snake eyes, btw) was soooo so cute tho. I really wish it hadn't started to damage my teeth, or else I'd still have it. What musical group/artist do you love, but hide from other people? I used to be kinda embarrassed by artists like Melanie Martinez when you compare her music to my adoration of metal, but at my age now, I don't give a damn. I like what I like and won't hide it. What is the first meal you remember eating? ... Does anyone actually remember this??? What's in your keepsake box/scrapbook? Good God, a lot. I haven't looked in it in a very, very long time though. It brings a usually painful nostalgia. What did you score on your SATs? I don't even remember if I took them. I THINK I took the ACT instead? I don't even know the difference. When was the last time you saw a rainbow? Hm. Been a while. It's not like I'm out of the house a lot, especially nowadays with quarantine. What colors is your lava lamp? I wish I had a lava lamp, they're rad and really relaxing. What's the strangest thing you've ever hung on the wall? Nothing, really. Can you name every place you've ever had sex? I mean I can but I'm not going to. What's the most important thing you ever lost and never found again? My favorite childhood cat Charcoal. He was an outdoor and intact male, so it was very normal for him to eventually vanish to rove. Please keep your cats indoors. What forms of birth control have you used? The pill and, uh, having "barriers." How many webpages have you created, and can you still find them all? I made Wetpaint sites for my two RP mobs back in the day, but the site has since been completely revised, so no, they don't exist anymore. I checked outta curiosity I think last year. How many people are in your family portrait? We don't even have a proper family portrait. Ever punched a wall? No. When's the last time you really lost your temper? In some argument with Mom I don't remember. Ever thought you (or a girlfriend) were pregnant, but it was a false alarm? I had massive anxiety over it once, but it was irrational and even I knew that. Not that anxiety cares. If 97 is yes, were you glad or sad? I was very glad when my period came lmao. What was the last conversation you had with someone before they died? When I saw my grandma for the last time, I just let her know that I loved her and that she was so, so strong, and she was. No one could believe how long she warded death off when she finally stopped chemo. What do your drinking glasses look like? We have some more unique cups and mugs, but the majority of them are just plain, slightly angular glasses, some short, some tall. How many bottles/containers are in your medicine cabinet? Oh wow, a lot. We're covered for most potential problems. How many funerals have you been to? Uhhh I think one. Maybe even none, just wakes. What was the last bug you killed and what did you use? An ant, I think? I just used my fingers. How many computers in your household? There are three laptops, but no desktop computers. Ever help to solve a crime? There was one occasion years ago when our neighbor's window was busted overnight and cops came to us to ask for any evidence we might have had, but we didn't have any. Idk what came of it. Ever get pulled over by the cops and get away without a ticket? I've never been pulled over. What was your first legal alcoholic drink? I think it was a margarita, but possibly a daquiri. Ever get published by one of those poetry groups? I fucking wish. I've tried, but to no avail. What's the furthest distance you've moved? Not very far at all. Just to the neighboring town. How many friends from high school/college do you still talk to? Only a few now and then. Girt is the only one I have real conversations with, though. What's the most expensive things your parents ever bought you? Probably the laptop I have right now, but idk. I've never asked how much things they've bought me cost, it seems rude somehow. What's the most expensive thing you've bought? The upcoming revamp of my tattoo. Deposit was $100, and then it's probably going to be another $300-400. I can't afford it all myself; as my birthday gift, Mom is helping me pay for it, but I've got most of it covered thanks to Christmas and birthday money. How many times did you intentionally start to commit suicide? Start to do it? Well, I was trying to run for sharp objects to do it twice, but on each occasion, someone held me back 'cuz they knew I was about to do something rash, so I didn't get very far, thankfully. The only time I fully went through with an attempt was my OD. Ever spent the night in the "loony bin?" How fucking disrespectful to call it that, but whatever. If you put all the instances together, I've been in psych hospitals for around a couple months, maybe more. What is your favorite cover song? Disturbed's cover of "Sound of Silence" is absolutely unbeatable. I'd just about call it a cold hard fact. What's your inspiration? Other's success stories, music, art in general, etc. What's the longest relationship you've been in? Over 3 1/2 years. Did you ever drop out of school? I dropped out of college three times, yikes. Three times is enough; even if I think I want to, I'm never going back. That is just way too much money to keep throwing down the drain, and there's clearly a pattern. Ever raise a child that wasn't your own for more than 3 months? I've never raised a kid period. Strangest medical procedure ever performed on you? Look up what a pilonidal cyst is and know I had one surgically removed. Pretty strange and uncomf. Song that has changed your attitude recently? None, really. What's something that you say a lot to be mean? ... Why would I try to be mean??? Who told you they loved you last? Me mum. Ever had a pet frog? Not technically, no, but as kids, my sister, neighbor, and I saved hundreds, maybe thousands of tadpole eggs from a ditch that was inevitably going to dry out. We transferred them all to a kiddie pool and let them grow naturally, hopping out and into the world whenever they were ready. I wouldn't call them "pets." Your worst enemy? IT'S NO SURPRIIIISE TO MEEEE I AAAAMMM MY OWN WORST ENEMYYYYY Do you believe in karma? No, but I wish it was a thing. What was the last hurtful thing you said to someone? I'm not sure. I certainly try to avoid doing so. Do you love someone enough you'd die for them? There's multiple people. The last song you listened to? I wasn't joking when I said I was gonna go on a Metallica spree, haha. "Of Wolf and Man" is on rn. Your most favorite memory as a kid? Too many, man. If you had the choice to work or not, would you work? Yes. I need something to do that benefits others in one way or another. Ever TRULY wanted to kill someone? I can't say for sure, if I'm being totally transparent. When I found out about Jason's gf after me, I can say with certainty I wanted her dead beyond dead, but I don't know if I wanted to kill her, per se. Just to clarify, no, I don't wish any negativity upon her now. I was certifiably insane before and certainly don't think I am anymore, so... Marvel or DC? I don't care. Do you watch anime subbed or dubbed? Both. I prefer dubbed, BUT only if the voice acting isn't insufferable. I like dubbed just because for me, it's very distracting to have to keep looking down at subtitles. How often do you exercise? I don't... I'm still waiting for Mom to move into her actual room versus the living room couch so I can do WiiFit with some privacy. I'm too uncomfortable to exercise in front of anyone. What is your favorite book series? Warriors will forever have a very special place in my heart. What is your favorite OTP? I will probably ship Rhett and Link for my entire life. Their friendship is truly incredible and so so SOOOOOOO cute. Who is your favorite Harry Potter character? I've never seen the series, actually.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''holier than thou'' by metallica

2 notes · View notes

signor-signor · 6 years

Text

Trending 27th (July 2018)

Believe it or else, three years have passed since Disney made the biggest mistake in the history of television animation in the 2010s: canceling the well-received Wander Over Yonder before the second season got the chance to prove itself (and several months after the third season was fully conceived).

So, what would my reaction be if a third season of Wander Over Yonder were to happen? The answer is quite simple.

I would rejoice!

Let me expand on my answer, though, in a way that explains why I still support the show.

Before 2008, I had little-to-no interest in Disney Channel because of its heavy reliance on live-action sitcoms. I had no reason to tune into that channel back then, but a certain animated show about a couple of stepbrothers finding ways to spend summer vacation came along and made me change my mind. When I discovered Phineas and Ferb, I was in for a treat. An original premise, quirky characters, subplots connecting with main plots, unique feats not possible in live-action shows... P&F had the whole kit and caboodle and was the one show I would watch whenever a new episode came on.

Then in 2010, we got Fish Hooks. While it had certain moments I would love to forget, it did have a diverse cast of water-dwelling characters living in a pet shop and focused on the life and times of three high school fish. That might be why I kept tuning into the show for new episodes, which, consequently, might have contributed to its chance at getting a third season, giving the show the privilege of spanning four years of high school.

Believe it or not, one thing that got me interested in Gravity Falls in 2012 was the fact that its creator happened to be the voice of Clamantha from Fish Hooks. I never knew Alex Hirsch was capable of doing many voices. I often think of the voice of Grunkle Stan as his take on Krusty the Klown from The Simpsons. And I did find his voice for Soos fun to hear and imitate. I think what got me even more interested back then was the involvement of Matt Chapman, one of the many men of hundreds of voices and one of the two brothers who created the Homestar Runner body of work, which I’ve been following since 2003. That, and cryptic codes you find in the credits. Truth be told, I had no idea how much of an impact it would have among viewers.

These are just three animated shows that had me stay tuned on the Disney Channel before mid-2013. This leads us to my rising interest in Wander Over Yonder, which also premiered in 2013 on said channel. Knowing this was a feel-good kind of show starring Jack McBrayer and created by @crackmccraigen, the experienced genius behind The Powerpuff Girls and Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends, I would be a total fool for missing out on it. The characters are diverse and so are the environments. There’s always something brand-spanking new in every episode. I cannot tell a lie. It’s the funniest, cleverest, and most well thought-out cartoon I’ve ever watched. Considering the other Disney shows in the resurgence weren’t in jeopardy, I was sure Disney had succeeded in boosting my interest in their animated fare. Regardless of hiatuses, I saw no signs of the company lousing up their shows’ schedules. I actually thought the show would be too good to fail even after the move to Disney XD in early 2014.

Even though the three aforementioned shows weren’t as impressive as WOY animation-wise and humor-wise, I’d managed to catch up on them. I also watched The 7D, Penn Zero: Part-Time Hero, and Star vs. the Forces of Evil on Disney XD, all because the company was going in the right direction. Like many viewers, I was completely unaware of the actions the heads of Disney were going to take, one of which involved choosing one or a few over the others.

When I got the news of WOY getting a second season (and the 11 1-minute shorts that preceded it), I made sure not to miss it because I enjoyed the first season. Before the bad news broke out in March of 2016, I had already moved on from Fish Hooks, Phineas and Ferb, and Gravity Falls because they had absolutely no unfinished business after they ended properly. When I found via DaBurninator’s DeviantArt account that Wander got canceled one week before S2 started even though a whole third season was planned out in early 2015, I became puzzled and felt betrayed. It’s like the Disney bosses didn’t give any thought to how the fans would feel. “Disney, how could you?” I thought. I had other questions in mind.

“What about Fish Hooks? It may not be as popular as Phineas and Ferb, but it got 3 seasons!”

“What makes them think there’s no need to make more episodes?”

“What did we ever do to be denied to know what happens after the second season?”

“Do they know what Craig went through to get his third season pitch together?”

Craig has been in the business for more than 20 years and his amazing ideas for S3 get snubbed by a company with the notion of dreams coming true? That is absolutely unheard of. He hasn’t done anything wrong before and after leaving Cartoon Network. Sure, he had a student film with an inappropriate title that got a much more suitable name when he got started with Hanna-Barbera, but I know dang well he was giving his all to make one of the best shows in the history of Disney television. He was trying to make a show that takes place in outer space, utilizes characters with structures that follow the “lava lamp theory,” and mixes hilarity and critical thinking. He was making for Disney a show that could leave a good impression on the viewers and show them that kindness can be a good thing. No other show by Disney could ever offer the same satisfaction demonstrated in WOY, that’s why I currently have little-to-no interest in Disney shows not created by Craig. I still suspect the higher Disney bosses like Fish Hooks more than they like WOY.

If people had no interest or faith in WOY, would they have allowed songs from My Fair Hatey to be recorded at Capitol Records? The point is, if the WOY crew members went above and beyond to make WOY good, we MUST give it tons of attention! I still do.

Back to my answer to the question of Trending 27th. If a third season of WOY were to ever happen, I would rejoice by hugging everyone around me and spreading the word. If I made doubly sure that it is the case, I’d probably happily laugh in hysterics, but that’d be because after years of putting up with the popularity of higher-rated Disney shows (especially GF and SvtFoE) and inspiring WOY fans to fight harder, I would know all our efforts would have finally paid off. I’d also have renewed my trust in Disney television.

Just imagine, the lips of Craig and his crew would be unsealed and we would finally get to witness these things in S3.

•The first scene consisting of Dominator grumpily orbbling through space (and maybe looking at the picture she took in The Flower)

•A new angle that’s “delightfully petty but wholly Dominator”

•The construction and launch of The Star Nomad (thanks to Future-Worm, we know who owns it)

•The space primate

•The threat worse than Dominator

•Peepers’s arc

•More Wander/Sylvia/Hater/Peepers team-ups

•More info on Demurra and Dracor’s children

•More Eye on the Skullship

•Emperor Awesome’s “ultimate comeuppance”

•Major Threat being a recurring character

•Returning characters (like the Black Cube, Ripov, Neckbeard, to name a few)

•What the other villains have been up to since The Bad Neighbors

•New characters (that means new ALFs - Alien Life Forms)

•Possibly a new musical

•Lord Hater’s origin story and how he and Peepers met (still waiting for it!)

•And most important, Wander being tested in a cool way

•And also most important, a message saying, “Thanks for watching!”

Get the picture? We would see all this and more become a reality if we leave shows with no unfinished business alone, ease up on shows that aren’t in danger of cancellation, and pay more attention to discontinued shows calling for proper closure. We can’t stand idly by while that space pod accident remains unexplained. We must let Disney know there IS a need for one more season (or TV movie) so we can see WOY end properly before Craig decides to retire.

52 notes · View notes

katyjustso · 8 years

Text

It is my first post of the year so I shall begin with the obligatory…

#gallery-0-6 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-6 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 100%; } #gallery-0-6 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-6 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

Yes, it’s the fucking 19th alright?

New Year, New Me.

Except it’s less an Emphatic Statement of Intent and more a Bewildered Question.

New Year, New Me…?

Erm….perhaps next year.

Listen, you’re going to have to excuse me for a minute because I’ve reached that age (and weight) where I can no longer blithely dismiss sudden chest pain as ‘just trapped wind’ and it feels like someone just dropped a breeze-block on my sternum. I better go and investigate. I’ll be back (I hope).

Yup. Just a massive fart. Yet more of the anxiety wind which is currently blowing through my life. Anxiety, you say? This early on in the year? Even with the kids safely installed back at school?

Well, yes.

Sadly, I haven’t had the kick-ass start to the year I was dreaming about. More a massive kick you UP the ass kind of start to the year that I could not have anticipated in a billion years.

The wank start to 2017 comes hot on the heels of a fairly dog-shit end to 2016 which left me uncharacteristically desperate for the festivities to end and gagging for the 1st of January.

I use the term dog-shit advisedly (believe it or not) because that’s what our festive period felt like tbh. Like, if Christmas 2016 was a spanking new pair of white Nike Tn’s, then I spent the majority of it trying to scrape off a steaming turd only to find I’d walked through it again.

But, much like a shit-covered shoe, our Christmas troubles were mere trifles; annoying inconveniences which rather threatened to spoil everything than actually doing so.

The main culprit was sickness and disease. Having swerved such things at Christmas for the last 16 years or so, I guess we were due a turn. But it’s always crap when your kids are poorly and it’s even crapper at Christmas.

A particular highlight (for me, not him) was Thom’s impeccable sick-etiquette on Christmas morning. Not wanting to spoil the splendour of the occasion, Thom repeatedly asked to be accompanied to the kitchen between opening his own gifts so he could chuck up what was left of his little guts. Bless.

Although between MTV’s Bangin’ Bassline Christmas Hits (absolutely no fucking sign of Bing Crosby at alll) blaring out of the TV and the frenzied ripping of wrapping paper by his siblings, his bile-only retching would doubtless have gone unnoticed.

The real highlight of my Christmas morning is still telling the kids not to worry about dropping all the wrapping paper on the floor cos we don’t live with your anti-mess freak father anymore.

The smug satisfaction I still get from saying this after five years is quite shameful but in my defence, as a single mum at Christmas you’ll take any little win you can get.

I might have to chalk it up as a loss though, cos it’s one thing to let the kids open presents without following them around the room brandishing a carrier bag for the rubbish but when you use it as an excuse to leave the room strewn with wrapping paper and ribbon for about 10 days, you start to look less care-free and more lazy bastard.

So yeah. The ‘Noro-Virus’ did the rounds over Christmas. Noro-Virus sounds more sympathy evoking than 24hr bug. Also, I don’t think 24 hours carries sufficient gravitas when you’re 8 and the 24 hours in question starts at 11pm on Christmas Eve and lasts right the way through your Christmas dinner.

And, whilst I felt dreadfully sorry for Thom and his khaki coloured sick, my Christmas Eve wasn’t exactly all wine and wassail. Well, it wasn’t wine cos, recovering alcoholic obvs, so yeah that bit of Christmas has gone out of the window. But as is my Christmas custom, I still had about 80% of the wrapping to do once the little ones finally lost consciousness.

But no sooner had I rolled up my sleeves and attached my snazzy new ‘On-hand Sellotape dispenser” than I was interrupted by Thom’s tired and tremulous crying. Actually, to my shame (just add it to the fucking list shall we?), I sent the teen upstairs the first time I heard him crying and that was only after there was a break in the carols I had blaring out from the TV. The teen has even less patience than me, if that is even possible, so when he came downstairs after fifteen seconds armed with the considered conclusion that Thom was ‘over-excited’, I took him at his word and carried on with my frantic wrapping.

By 8am Christmas morning, there was a pile of presents under the tree that might as well have been wrapped by an 18 month old. I was so tired with darting up and down stairs to hold back Thom’s hair (oh, hang on, I don’t do that with him do I – so why does he need me?) as he was sick every half an hour that I’d barely bothered to hide all the tape and left over bows. Not that anyone noticed.

Boxing Day saw the girl fall foul of the wretched bug and the day after that had me dashing between bathroom and bedroom all day.

*Sigh*

God.

With all this festive digression, I have quite forgotten the subject of my post. Which is a relief actually, cos it’s fucking painful to think about.

The reason I have entitled this post The Moving Memoirs #1 is not because I believe these posts will be moving in any emotional sense. Whatsoever. They will be filled with a shit load of whingeing and bitching about various stuff going on but this is not a sympathy seeking exercise. I can’t be arsed. No, I shan’t be moving anyone to tears.

For you eagle-eyed readers, the #1 is not accidental. The thread of this blog will probably take at least three months to exhaust itself and so I may manage to write a few more posts. That’s not a threat, nor am I making any promises. I am struggling to write at the moment. I am struggling to do most things. Functioning is at an all-time low.

So. Not trying to ‘move’ anybody emotionally and it might be a three month long series. Dunt take a genius to work out that the moving in question is a house move and I shall be blogging about this for the foreseeable future.

I have moved house before but in the five years that we’ve lived where we live now, so much has changed, and I fear this move is going to be pretty different to any I’ve done before.

So. I remember seeing something on Pinterest once – like a ‘countdown to moving day’ list or something like that. I must have read it cos I sort of remember it saying shit like this:

Three months before you move

Begin to compile a list of removal companies you could use

Make an inventory of each room

Invest in some ‘packing boxes’ and begin to label them by room

One month before you move

Inform the relevant phone and cable TV companies of your impending move

Start wrapping your breakables in newspaper

The day before you move

Make sure you have left the kettle and other essentials out for your last day

Have your gas and electric meters read (my mother just told me this…seriously I have no idea about this shit.)

The day of the move

Get up early

Blah

Fucking blah

Right. You get the picture.

Here is how my list thus far with my confident predictions for the next few months:

Three months before (eviction notice served)

Spend 36 hours in a stunned stupor because you can’t believe your home will no longer be your actual home in ninety days

Say ‘fuck’. A lot

Cry

Hide under a duvet

Desperately call parents and incomprehensibly wail about impending homelessness

Two months before

Still say fuck. A lot. Also shit, wanker, twat and bastard. For example:

(a) “What the fuck are we actually going to do though?”

(b) “You tell me where we’re going to fucking live then you stupid fucking twat.”

And so on.

More crying

Spend excessive amounts of time on sofa whilst permanently hiding under a blanket that now hasn’t been washed for six weeks and is covered in tears, snot, chocolate and crumbs

Eat everything you see that is in the sugar/carbs group

Stop cleaning the house in a kind of half-assed protest over being evicted

Continue to barrage those close to you with totally inappropriate over-emotional calls about your ‘desperate’ predicament

One week before

Resign yourself to fact that you are absolutely fucked and you’re going to end up moving you and your three children into your mother’s house

Start hurling random things in Morrison’s carrier bags whilst telling everyone how you’ve ‘nearly finished packing’

Panic and start throwing away things you need simply cos you don’t know what box to put them in. Seriously, do tea-lights go in the box marked kitchen or living room? You fucking tell me.

Order a massive skip that you can’t afford whilst kidding yourself (but actually nobody else) that THIS time you mean it when you say you are going to de-clutter. Then spend two of the three days you’ve hired it for watching inconspicuous members of the public (seriously, they may as well put on a comedy moustache and glasses) surreptitiously chucking all manner of shit into YOUR skip because THEY’RE too fucking tight to hire one themselves.

On the evening before the skip is due to be collected, gaze in wonder and horror at how little space there is left to put your own mountain of crap into now the skip-jackers have filled it.

Try to remedy this problem by shifting all the contraband crap to one corner of the skip.

Stumble upon at least four priceless pieces of other people’s crap you can’t believe has been thrown away and now you can’t possibly live without. Like, we could be talking about a fucking lava lamp or a scabby nest of tables that you just know you could upcycle with that tin of Annie Sloane pain that has been gathering dust in your garage for the last three years. Y’know, ever since you abandoned upcycling that old book shelf you had and ordered a brand spanking new one off ov Very instead.

Seriously, you are genuinely thinking how unbelievable it is what people will throw away as you cradle your new free treasures (one man’s trash etc..) and take them into your already shit laden abode. At this point, it is fair to say that the balance of your mind is clearly disturbed because the child’s manky old bicycle you’ve picked up has only got one wheel and is clearly for a four year old. Your youngest child is 8.

OK. I’m majorly rambling now but are you getting the diabolical picture?

Moving house is a great big pile of shitty turd. Moving house is something you don’t want to do even when you do want to do it. As in, when you’ve chosen to move out, onwards and upwards in your life.

But when your only reason for moving is a big fat eviction notice that couldn’t have been any less expected if it had parachuted through the letter-box and kicked you in the fanny, well, the prospect of moving is bloody, fucking, shitting, bastard horrible.

So. There you go.

My blogging raison d’etre for the next ninety days – give or take.

If the last fortnight is anything to go by there will be tears, tantrums and possibly some hilarious moments – like when I tell my kids that two of them are going to have to share a bedroom (jokes. It’ll obviously be me hunkering down on the sofa until one of the little bleeders moves out).

Arm yourself.

It ain’t gonna be pretty.

The Moving Memoirs #1 It is my first post of the year so I shall begin with the obligatory… New Year, New Me.

1 note · View note