#do i actually want to have these books or will this hyperfixation pass before they even get there

[fryingpan1234567]

yeah, more of these…

Batboys x reader feat. living together bc I don’t see enough headcanons about that (in some you’re a super and in some you’re not)

~~~~~~~~~~~~ Dick Grayson/ Nightwing

We’re imagining a Matt Murdock style Manhattan apartment, with entire walls made of murky glass, limited amount of walls within the place, very nice. It’s in Blüdhaven (:

There are two bedrooms. The two of you live in the smaller one and the master is for superhero stuff

All your tech, suits, files, medical, all that

The ceiling in your room is glass!!

The doggo is a black German Shepherd with a white patch on his chest that looks like the Nightwing symbol, which is the entire reason you got him. His name is Eagle :D

No matter where you work, the two of you take your lunches together every day and get coffee before work if there’s enough time. You picked this place because it’s close to both your jobs, obvi

As far as decor goes, there are a few high-humidity plants, neutral and blue tones, and cool metal

It’s always humid in your place for the plants, but it’s nice

Rainforest vibes, especially when it’s raining

~~~~~~~~~~~~ Jason Todd/ Red Hood

So many books

All the books

Everywhere

Y’all’s live out kind of in the middle of nowhere so it’s easier to retreat and lay low when necessary

Bout an hour out of Gotham

That’s Albus Dumbledore, the Great Dane

Alby for short cause she’s actually a girl but Jay wasn’t budging on that name

Kitty is Angelica

Anyways it’s nice and quiet out there, no city noises or being constantly worried about a stray bomb being thrown in a window

Every goddamn cup or container in your house is a mason jar

Plates and bowls are literally just hammered out sheets of scrap metal

It’s an aesthetic tbh

Plenty of succulents

Anyways the library? Massive

The kitchen? Top of the line

Maybe you two live out in the middle of nowhere, but no way in hell do you pass up the opportunity to abuse Bruce’s money to build a kickass house with all your favorite things

~~~~~~~~~~~~ Tim Drake/ Red Robin

Tim wanted to stay close to Bruce, as he is still a Robin

So y’all’s are only like a ten minute drive from the manor

Two doggos!! Rapunzel and Rella. They are both trained service dogs for anxiety and PTSD, for you and Tim both. Damian helped Bruce find them for you when the two of you moved in :DD

You have a smaller apartment, but it’s close to the top of the building and you actually get to see the Gotham sun sometimes

Whenever Rella or Rapunzel knows Tim’s been on his computer too long, or you’re hyperfixated on a case, or neither of you have slept in a while, they’ll drag you away from your work for a walk or a nap or food

Da best guard dogs :3

MOVING AWAY FROM THE DOGS

The house has quite the modern vibe going

Bright colors, cool shapes, sensible uses of space

Yes, the loft king bed is a real thing

Although sometimes you guys end up sleeping in the living room with a blanket fort bc your dogs can’t follow you up the ladder

~~~~~~~~~~~~ Damian Wayne/ Robin

First and foremost: Playdough’s rainbow spots are just dye; she’s fine I promise

Dami brought Titus and Alfred, obviously, but sadly Batcow had to stay at the manor. The condo building owners didn’t like the idea of that; a Great Dane is barely allowed as it is

The other cat is Cookie!! She’s nice but you and Dami tell everyone she’s mean so when they get affection they feel all warm inside [:

Keep in mind these guys are the only permanent ones- you foster all kinds of animals, including more dogs and cats, chinchillas, guinea pigs, rabbits, birds, even a bat once

Dami also had to stay close to the manor for Robin purposes. You guys are a few minutes away

There are little weapons and med kits and snacks (human and pet) scattered all over your place

Everything is so dark at your place so bloodstains are less noticable

(Dami tends to stumble through a window at like four in the morning, potentially with stab or gunshot wounds and bleeds all over the place)

If you’re a nurse, the stitching up came easy

If you’re not… you had to learn pretty fast

But hey it’s not all bad you’ve got four emotional support animals and a giant tv to watch Nat Geo on

[possum-quesadilla]

Chapter seven of Time is a Flat Circle is up and boy oh boy is it a doozy! Here are the extras for this chapter! <3

- This chapter’s title is from “Nobody” by Mitski. She was my rock throughout writing this chapter. If I had less self restraint, the entirety of both of the LoopJuice playlists would be all Mitski. I feel like this song, and the line I chose for the title in particular, really reflect what our sweet little demon wants deep down.

- “Christ on a fuckin’ bike” is taken straight from a coworker’s vernacular.

- “When did I teach him how to summon new clothes?” He did! It was mentioned in passing in a previous chapter that he showed both Adam and Barbara how to conjure new clothes. This is to show how shoddy his memory has gotten.

- “‘Beebleboose’” is, of course, a reference to everyone’s favorite sad puppet show. Also, he can’t even type out his own name due to the curse.

- “.. that erotic Colonel Sanders romance novel..” this is a real thing, unfortunately.

- “The idea of eating brought the bitter taste of bile to the back of his mouth.” One unfortunate possible side affect of burnout is an aversion to food. Everything suddenly seems disgusting, and just the idea of eating sickens you.

- “His lips remained still. It felt as if his whole mouth was coated in cotton.” This is sign of overstimulation I personally experience quite regularly. Your mouth just refuses to work!

- On that same note - a side effect of persistent autistic burnout is significant memory loss and/or brain fog. Hence why Beej forgot (and still continues to sometimes) that the humans can now remember everything.

- “Can I touch you, Bug?” Always ask permission before touching someone who you believe to be having some sort of panic attack or meltdown. Barbara knows to do this due to her experience with Adam!

- “Look at those chompers!” Indeed! Beetlejuice’s teeth are based on that of a spotted hyena, like Adam theorizes later. They have a specialized premolar that can break bone. Here is a pic for reference!

- “How come your tears are black?” It’s actually because they’re mixed with soot from the hellfire in his chest! Beetlejuice’s tears smell like a campfire.

- “Sometimes he still felt like roadkill again.” He has yet to be hit by a car, but he has been trampled by horses.

- “He was a bit taken aback at how curly and.. fluffy his hair had gotten.” They have hair that naturally curls, it’s just been so long since it was clean enough for them to see it. After this point, Beetlejuice’s hair is curly and voluminous! That’s why the other characters find it hard to resist playing with.

- “.. odd rumbling sensation..” Beetlejuice doesn’t know what purring is, or that they do it. They just find the noise embarrassing.

- Adam had a hyperfixation on animals at large when he was young, and spent his free time as a wee tot rereading books of animal facts. This is why he is so knowledgeable and enthused about BJ’s animalistic traits.

- “I met a real foxy witch in a swamp who had an alligator familiar once.” This is a reference to the webcomic Muted, which is about queer witches in New Orleans. Give it a read!

- “C’mon Beej, don’t be like that! You’re, like, the Mike to their Debbie and Dave!” “… what?” “You’re the Gonzo to their Kermit and Miss Piggy!” These are references to my (and Lydia’s) favorite throuple ships in media, besides Beetlands. Mike, Debbie, and Dave are from “Killer Klowns from Outer Space”, and Gonzo, Kermit, and Miss Piggy are, of course, from The Muppets.

- Beetlejuice’s frantic shrimp pocketing is based on another character I deeply relate to, Eleanor Shellstrop from “The Good Place”.

- “‘who in this wide world does not know the great B-” This line is a reference to the musical “Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street”, specifically the song “Pretty Women”. I cannot stop the musical references unfortunately

- Ms. Keaton is supposed to be the old woman who tries to bring a pie to the Deetz family in the musical, but her name is, of course, a reference to Michael Keaton, the original actor for Beetlejuice in the Tim Burton film.

- On the surgeries Beetlejuice mentioned - he has gotten top surgery! He is very proud of his top surgery scars. They are not the scars he mentioned being ashamed of in a previous chapter.

- As stated, Lydia is a demigirl! She uses she/they pronouns, and Beetlejuice is nonbinary and uses he/they/it pronouns.

- On the head bumping - Lydia picked it up shortly after Beetlejuice first did it to her. It’s how cats and Beetlejuice show affection. Barbara and Adam are slowly starting to adopt it over time as well.

- Beetlejuice’s horns are, like Adam theorizes, based on a sheep’s. Here is a little sketch of how they used to look, and how they look now! (Also, a peek at his ears. I’m not entirely happy how they came out in the drawing, so this may change.)

- The tail!! Here is a rough drawing of how it looks.

- It is not scaled like a snake, but rather like a possum’s tail. It is prehensile, meaning it can grip things and even support his weight if he used it to hang upside down. It reaches down to about his ankles. The tip shakes like a rattlesnake’s (no noise, though) when he’s nervous or deep in thought, or just as a self-soothing thing. This is based on what my own cat’s tail does when he’s nervous!

- The ear-piercing scene is meant to evoke a similar one in “The Parent Trap”, since it is a sibling bonding scene I really enjoy and find very affective.

- On the demons of their past - each demon’s name is based on a star, like Beetlejuice’s own. They are unafraid to envoke Rigel’s name because he is dead. Deb and Cyrus are nicknames based on their true names, like Beetlejuice and Betelgeuse. I am excited to have Deb and Cyrus to show up in Part 2!

- Beetlejuice’s first marriage was by choice to someone he knew. Their second marriage was an arranged political union.

- Deb is a trans woman!

- “I’ll talk more, just cut it out with the weird… teary eyes!” Not even demons are immune to puppy-dog eyes.

- Beetlejuice’s favorite meal was a bone broth made from meal scraps and various herbs.

- “Chari-sard” Adam was comparing Beetlejuice to a Charizard. Both the demon and the Pokémon have flames that are connected to their life force, and they will die if it ever goes out.

- The whole scene describing Beetlejuice’s favorite meal is based on a similar scene in “Isle of Dogs”, where a stray dog describes the only time he was ever adopted before. He bit a member of his new family so hard he had to be hospitalized, and he doesn’t know why he did it. He says he thinks maybe he was scared. The grandmother of the family brought him a bowl of chili while he was locked in the garden shed, which he says he likes to imagine was for him. He escaped after that and went back to being a stray. This scene strikes a chord with me, and reminds me very deeply of Beetlejuice. He doesn’t understand why he lashes out. He doesn’t want to. He’s not a violent demon. He’s just… scared. (Highly recommend “Isle of Dogs” if you enjoy this fic! It, along with Wes Anderson’s other films, really resonate with me and my experience as an autistic/neurodivergent person. There will be references to “Fantastic Mr. Fox” and “Asteroid City”, as they also greatly influenced how I think and write.)

- Barbara enjoys cooking, as she has a very perceptive palette and likes to experiment. Adam is more adept at baking, because he likes to follow instructions.

- The “shrimps is bugs” hoodie is a real one that one of my good friends has. He is studying etymology.

- “Don’t be suspicious, don’t be suspicious-” this is based off of a popular gag in “Parks and Rec”, one of my favorite shows. (And Adam and Barbara’s! The millennials in my life love a good workplace comedy.)

- “Why couldn’t he just he just grip the spoon the same way he had with his left hand?” Beetlejuice is unaware that dominant and nondominant hands are a thing.

- Like my beloved millennial dad figure, Adam has a deep love for a random movie from the 80’s. I feel like every dad’s got one. His is, of course, “The Terminator”. Arnold Schwarzenegger was his bisexual awakening. All of the factoids he shares about the film are true!

- Finally, the legs! Like his horns, Beetlejuice’s legs resemble that of a sheep’s own back legs. His hooves are cloven, like stated, and his fur is black with brown undertones, like a black cat, or this sheep below! The fur doesn’t grow out much due to stress, but he used to have to shear it often by himself as a child. He probably will have to start doing so again the healthier and happier he gets!

- Nurse Ratched is a villainous nurse from pop culture. Research her with caution, as she does some rather heinous things. Barbara likes true crime!

- A “Texas Switch” is a technique used in filming, and is used in “The Terminator”. My favorite example is in “A Quiet Place Part Two”!

- “Odd, reattached limbs had never healed that quickly before.” That is because they are getting proper care!

- “To distract from the odd little sound they involuntarily made, (seriously, what was that? A chirp?)” It was a trill! Or as I call it, a ‘mrrp’. Some people call it the “cat activation noise”.

- “Some strange show about people working for the government” this is, of course, “Parks and Rec”!

- And that’s it, nothing else happened in this chapter and it ended happily :) (The flashbacks BJ had while having a panic attack are from his mother, Rigel, and Lydia stabbing him, obviously. Yes, all of them stabbing him in some way.)

[sweetlikehoneystingslikeabee]

I want to hear more about Zero Year Riddler being kind of a loser, please.

Zero Year Riddler is Actually A Nerdy Dork-Ass and I Have Evidence

aka at max ten pictures from the comic books. I apologize now that I had to get selective with photos and that these photos I took myself because I'm too lazy to scan. Includes hcs based on the canon stuff.

TW: Spoilers for Batman: Zero Year also known as Zero Year - Secret City and Zero Year - Dark City

We are going to be jumping around a little with these pictures. So the most basic/stripped down timeline- Edward sets off a massive plot w/ Doctor Death to first black out the City of Gotham while he prepares the Big Guns. Weather balloons filled with toxins to ensure no one is getting in or out of Gotham. He floods the city. Tells the surviving citizens that if they all want to get out, they have to give him a riddle he cannot solve. If you think that last part sounds very folk-lore or fairy tale like, YOU WOULD BE RIGHT. This period where he's setting up this challenge is the titular Zero Year. He is set up inside the Sphinx display in the Gotham History Museum. Batman stops him. onto the actual discussion.

We are first going to start with his introduction. I've discussed this before in a different post but this is meant to tell you multiple things. He has fifteen degrees he's earned. He makes conspiracy theory string boards. He is a dweeb who wears pocket protectors. The important thing to note story wise is that most of the points in this board are important/have a specific role in the story. He's correct about them. They matter. You might be saying "ok Fox/Belle but how does this say he's a nerdy dork-ass?"

look at him. He's described as being "boastful and annoyingly egotistical, but socially he's an egghead." This is not a man who plays well with others. But he genuinely thinks of himself as someone better than everyone else. What do you get? A smokescreen of theatrics, egotism and showing off to hide how socially inept he is.

Next, and sorry the first picture didn't turn out as well as I'd hoped. This is the first meeting of Edward and Bruce Wayne. Of course Edward has already plotted his death. Will try to enact this plot. The page with the snake is a reference to the ancient Egyptian game of Mehen which Edward mentions in passing earlier in the story. Historians currently don't know much about the game other than it's distinctive board- However here it becomes a parallel to Ouroboros. The snake that eats it's own tail. Its known as an alchemy symbol and spiritually represents the unity of all things. Life, Death, Rebirth. In Edward's mind: destruction and rising from ashes aka Gotham in his plans.

The second is post Zero Year, telling the citizens of Gotham his motivations. This is his monologue showing his warped version of the Hero's Journey. The Hero's Journey for those who don't know is a very old archetype on which many fictional stories are all based on (whether they realize it or not.) In it's simplest terms, a hero goes on an adventure. The hero through trauma and hardship, learns a lesson, wins their "boon" and returns home with newfound knowledge that transformed them as a person. Note this sounds kind of similar to the Ouroboros thing, doesn't it?

Edward wants to leave a mark and transform Gotham. Potentially the world. He wants control he never had growing up. He wants all of it.

On the headcanon end... This information combined with his hyperfixation on mythology (mentioned below), this man plays tabletop. Hear me out. God complex. Verbose. Theatrics. Obsession with heroics, the heroes journey and folklore... this man not only plays DnD, he has been a GM countless times. I think he'd play other tabletops as well, but DnD is his bread and butter.

His main race (in traditional) is a gnome because of the intelligence stats. When he does DM/GM, the story is rich and so fucking detailed. He is also mean as hell and will murder all your characters in emotionally devastating ways if you get unlucky. He'll never admit any of this to people he finds cool or too attractive (unless they get to know him first). He has a strong wall up to try and prevent any weakness or vulnerability to show through.

He likes fun facts. Not just about mythology he is the one who spits out statistical data and random fun facts in regular discussion. It's almost compulsive. At another part of the comic where he almost shoots Lucius Fox dead via robot, he states the statistical probability that he was already hit with a bullet, but to reload and shoot again anyways. Then he is in the middle of telling a trivia fact about foxes before Batman comes in to save Lucius.

This feeds into my headcanon that he's neurodivergent. And also was a Jeopardy fanatic as a child. Probably still is. He likes to impress (especially dates) with the knowledge he can pull from seemingly nowhere. Also if you haven't gotten the impression yet, he cannot and will not stop talking. Loves the sound of his own damn voice. You know he's monologued himself to trouble multiple times. Also note how smoothly he's just glossing over his shitty dad/abusive childhood (again.)

Piggybacking on the last point- He has a special interest (read: potentially hyperfixation) on mythology and folklore. On multiple occasions he mentions these stories in passing as an anecdote for the events currently happening around him. Archimedes was a greek mathematician in ancient Sicily. He invented a great many things and would come to be known as one of the leading scientists of classical antiquity. The story Edward references is a rather famous one- Archimedes invented complex pulley systems and was tasked to prove the strength and ingenuity of these pulleys by moving the Syracusia, a luxury cruise ship, in and out of the water.

The second he mentions the story of the Gordian Knot. The tale goes as such: Alexander the Great's time. Whoever could untie the Gordian Knot was said to be destined to rule all of Asia. No one could solve it. The knot was impeccable. It was complex. Alexander the Great showed his great mental genius by doing what no one else had done. He cut the knot. There's more to it but that's the gist. That's the why of why Edward looks to this story and remembers it.

Everything about The Riddler of Zero Year is about proving his intelligence. Creating a name and a culture enveloped with smarts. If we didn't have the lore associated with Egyptian mythology as well, I'd say ancient Greece is his topic of choice but I think he likes all of it. That said, this man likes historical movies, historical texts, museums. If you take him to a museum or any kind of zoo or aquarium, he's going to talk your ear off on what he already knows for at least several hours. Are you impressed? Please be impressed. Tell him how smart he is and praise him like your favorite house cat.

The final pictures with actual analysis. These might seem silly or a rather insignificant detail to zoom in on.

This is him setting off the triggers to flood the city. Note the suitcase. He says this out loud to no one but himself. His own joke that only he gets to laugh at. Then he LITERALLY walks away whistling. A lot of this kind of behavior feeds into him knowing and being so smug about how clever he is. He's watching dozens upon dozens of citizens who have no idea what is going to happen to them, running in fear. And he's focused only on how gleeful he is that it's all coming together.

In the second: this is the final trial. Batman saving the city of Gotham and Riddler getting to have his big villain moment. And from the moment he reveals the lightshow of lasers ready to cut down our hero at will- he begins playing with his cane and hat. To the point that Batman is almost panicked for him to stop and just ask the damn questions.

These both run to one point and that's to him, this is all a game. We don't know this in the story yet, but he has an additional failsafe to blow the city up even if Batman wins (he doesn't expect him to, but he always makes sure to be a step ahead in case). He's lighthearted because, despite his curiosity around Batman and being constantly surprised that Batman keeps surviving, he considers this chess game match and set. His own arrogance supersedes the idea that Batman could be a genuine hero willing to take all the risk to save these people.

Riddler says to "get smart or die." Edward does not expect someone to do just that and more. For these the behaviors are more dorky vs the actual analysis but you get the point.

Bonus: we get the full picture that he constantly has a crown image above his screen in Gotham Square during Zero Year. Sir, Why Are You Like This? A lot of this comes down to: please give him attention he is so desperate for attention and probably physical affection. He's starving for it.

If you actually read through all of this, I'm love you and I hope you're having a fantastic day. Thank you for taking the time to listen to my rambling.

[nkirukaj]

I Want You, Simon- Chapter 6

Yo, I love Simon so much. He's literally my hyperfixation right now lol. I really hope I'm doing him justice! To the small number of people who read this story, thank you! :)

Pairing: Simon Petrikov x Fem! OC

Warnings: implied sexual feelings

Genre: Angst and Fluff and Sexuality

Word Count: 1.7K

Link to Chapter 5

The brightening lights and the screaming crowd meant nothing to him at this moment. All he could do was stare at the woman on stage and wonder how he could have been so blind. 

“Sami,” he spoke again, this time in a more assured tone. Samira was Sami. He couldn’t exactly wrap his head around it, maybe that was why it had taken him so long to be able to figure it out. Had he even figured it out? If this was true, she basically had to tell him through song. But how could Samira be Sami? They were so different. Or were they? Well Samira was into music while Sami was into books. Samira was cool singer and Sami was a cute nerd. Sami wore her hair up but Samira wore it down. It couldn't be, it was impossible. Simon continued to stand in place as Samira exited the stage. She walks over to a corner where there are some people waiting to speak with her. She is in deep conversation as he takes some unconscious steps toward her, and while she spoke, she took a glance over toward him. Simon turned to hide his face, suddenly a bit embarrassed to be there, but obviously he didn’t turn fast enough, because within a few seconds he felt a tap on his arm.

“Hey!”

He turns back around to face her “Hey. You were amazing up there. These are for you,” he hands her the flowers, she takes them.

“Thank you! No one has ever brought me flowers before,” She looks a little confused but appreciative.

“No problem…Sami,” he leans forward a bit, expectantly

She looks up without moving her face; smirking 

“When did you figure it out?” she picks at the flowers

“Tonight,” he blushes “Your song. It was beautiful. It was something Sami- well, you said to me a bit back.”

“Oh, well now I know that you listen to me when I speak.”

He looks a bit shocked “Of course. I always listen to you. I love to hear you.” He may have spoken a bit too much, but Samira’s eyes brightened as she looked up at him. But just as quick as it came, it turned into a disgusted look.

“What is that smell? Is that you?” She leans forward and sniffs him “Oh my glob, it IS you! Why do you smell like that?”

“Uh, new cologne. It’s um Grape Honey Dandelion,”

“Oh my glob, where did you get that from, the clothing kingdom?”

“Um, yes actually”

“Dear glob, don’t ever do that again” she laughs and covers her nose “Did you wear that for me?”

“Um no….? Yes.”

“Well thank you, that’s flattering, but stick to your usual scent. That one smells amazing”

“Really?”

She nods “That’s how I know when you enter a room,”

He turns red at her attention to detail “But thank you for coming. It really means a lot to me.”

“Of course, I’d come every week to see you.”

“Well, you don’t have to wait until Thursdays to see me,” she winks at him, holding the flowers up to her face.

“You’re right. Maybe we could spend some time together outside of here and the library?”

Samira widens her eyes with surprise “Are you asking me out?”

“Yeah...to hang out. As friends” He felt like slapping his own forehead the moment the words passed his lips.

Samira’s face dropped a bit, but was instantly back up to normal

“Um, okay! We can definitely do that! Just tell me when. You can text me!”

She pats herself down, then turns to address a Candy Person, they give her a marker. She turns back to SImon “Roll up your sleeve,”

“I can’t roll up my sleeve in this suit,” he chuckles, knowing that he sounds ridiculous.

“Yeah you can. See?” She grabbed his arm and meticulously folding the sleeve back to reveal his forearm. 

Simon is immediately made aware of the scar from the wound he got on his “adventure” with Finn, who was trying-in a very wrong way- to make him feel better. He’s filled with self-consciousness and certainty that Samira would say something about it, but all she did was regard it by rubbing her thumb over the it, then write her phone number on top of it, as well as her name, as if she was signing her name on the dotted line of a document.

“Call it an autograph. Take a picture of it.” she gives him a coy look “But yeah, use that to text me. Or call me or whatever”

He traces his finger over the scar “Yes, absolutely.”

“Okay. Well..bye” Samira twirled the marker between her fingers before giving him a small wave before departing, taking the flowers-and the marker-with her.

Simon kept unconsciously rubbing his scar and staring off at nothing. He was unaware of what he was thinking about, but he did know that he wanted to get rid of this awful smell.

After getting home, Simon copied down Samira’s phone number on a piece of paper. While preparing to shower off the cologne, he thought about what Samira had said about th writing on his arm being like an autograph. Once he removed his shirt, he took out his phone and decided to follow her advice and take a picture. He decided that this was something he wanted to remember. 

After his shower, he sat down on his bed, glad to be free of the smell. Staring off into the distance had recently become a new hobby of his. When he snapped back into reality, he found himself once again rubbing the scar that he had not noticed once until tonight. He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t stop doing it. While grazing it, he thought back to Samira’s touch on his scar. The care she took rolling up his sleeve, how she didn’t make any comment upon seeing the scar, and how she didn’t pretend like it wasn’t there, but instead made him feel like it was some interesting part of him to be recognized. Her soft hands and fingers trailing over it.

No, this was him making a big deal over nothing, he was sure of it. Time to do something actually productive. He should start by getting dressed. Then proceed to do some late night reading to take his mind off of his complicated feelings. Laying in his bed, cracking open the first book that came to his mind, he bagan reading and very quickly realized that this was one of the books he had borrowed from the library almost a week prior. In fact, this was a book that he had sat and read with Sami,-well Samira. He wondered if he was still allowed to call her that.

Enough about that. He was reading. That is what he was doing, not daydreaming or thinking about other things. Reading. 

But turning the pages, he was hit with a smell of strawberries, but not pure strawberries, more like processed ones. Kind of like something strawberry flavored. This was how Sami smelled to him. He laughed to himself thinking how silly it was that his brain had taken the time to identify the scent so specifically, and how quickly he was able to relate it back to her, but waved it off because he was certain that the scent would fade within a page or two.

But it did not.

In fact, her scent seemed to be all over this book, and before long he found himself turning the pages only to get another hit of the smell. And now he was outright sniffing the book. The smell filled his head with memories. Such as the first time he watched her perform, the way she was able to yield complete control over her body, hearing her sing, and hearing her speak, like the day they were both at Marceline’s house, tonight when she smelled the flowers he gave her, and mostly all the days and afternoons they had spent reading to each other. In particular this one specific moment when he was reading and she sat next to him on the floor and leaned over so she would be able to read the texts as well. That was the moment he had caught on to her scent. It was also the moment he had first seen her face up close. She was beautiful from afar of course, but up close, it was like you could see her personality, right there on her face. It was as though she put it all out in the open, and she wasn’t scared of anything. The more he thought of her smell, her body, and her face, the redder his face became, and the tighter his pants became. He couldn’t stop himself from sniffing the one thing he had that she had touched. He wondered for a moment and then put his arm up for him to smell as well. He’d had a shower, but his arm smelled like her as well. Sooner or later he felt ridiculous. What was he doing? Smelling himself and his books like a crazy person! 

“I am reading,” he thought speaking to himself aloud would help ground his thoughts

But when he opened the book once more, the smell of candy strawberries hit him again and turned his face beet red and his pants ultra tight.

“Alright that’s enough reading for tonight,” Simon slams the book closed, removes his glasses and lies down under his cover, staring up at the ceiling, having nothing to distract him, he quickly felt a heavy underlying guilt. 

He had asked Samira to ‘hang out’, not knowing where it might lead, or if he’s even ready for what he’s about to jump into. He couldn’t do that to her, it wouldn’t be right. It’s not fair to her.

That’s what he told himself lying in bed that night because he did not want to admit to himself that his guilt was more about the fact that he hadn’t felt like this for anyone, since Betty. And by having these thoughts about another woman, he knew for certain, he was betraying her.

[phantomram-b00]

Been wanting to do this for sometime so here are some of my headcanon for Autistic Aziraphale.

Please note that Autism is a spectrum and that everyone’s have a different experience because some of these are hc are based on experiences I have as an autistic person or maybe other might’ve too. So please be mindful, but hope you guys enjoy and feel free to ask any questions. (I love this gif)

Headcanon 1:

Aziraphale isn’t comfortable with crowds or at the very least crowds that might be noisy or isn’t his usually spaces or familiar with (I.e his bookshop, Give me coffee or give me death, etc) so he usually just wouldn’t want to go or if he does try it, he’ll bring his yellow Walkman Crowley got him so he can listen to music since music calm him down.

Headcanon 2:

He’s the type to want to listen to any other songs to not get out the comfort zone so if he does, he would have to listen to them twice or three times in order to decide if he like the song or not. (Idk if this one odd let me explain, it something I do since I don’t like to listen to different songs that isn’t in my comfort zone let alone song that aren’t my usual so if I did listen to it I would have to listen to them fully two or three times to see if I like the lyric, rhyme and beat. Just to make sure it not too loud, repetitive, or fits in my comfort zone for me. But also the lyric the factor since I like interpreting songs, probably why I like The Crane’s wives for example or even Laufey sm.)

Headcanon 3:

Hardcover > Paperback because he likes the feeling of the hardcover then he does with paperbacks. But also he feels the texture is better. Hence why most of the books in his bookshop are hardcovers.

Headcanon 4:

He does have specific food textures he doesn’t typically like. Like bananas, if the bread is too flakey, rice is too hard, some sandwiches or eggs. So he stays away from it and stick to his safe foods like sushi, pears, cakes.

Headcanon 5:

Crowley love it when Aziraphale hyperfixates and talk about his favorite book he reading because it fill him with love to see that Aziraphale find something he loves. It actually took Aziraphale some time since heaven would often interrupts, ignore or blatantly brush him off to cut it out leaving Aziraphale to feel insecure about his special interest. Ofc it also toke meeting mortals like him to get him to open up so when Crowley first heard him hyperfixate it made him happy. Because that how Aziraphale in a sense show trust in him and himself to open up.

Headcanon 6:

Aziraphale likes to stim! I think I kinda dip my toes in it in some post from before but I do believe that he stims. Whether he hums a tone, wiggles or etc. he also started doing this after time passed because again heaven and also some mortal look down on this. But with the comfort of his bookshop, Crowley and also meeting understanding mortal he start to feel more comfortable. Granted he still try to hide it due to masking and to this day still mask but once he with Crowley or in the comfort of his home he stims.

And that really about it for hc today

Me rambling in 3…..2…….1 (tw: ableism)

And that’s pretty much concludes it, I might do this again as it fun. Headcanon is my favorite thing as well as when it comes to autistic headcanon. Autistic rep has been… not the best, granted I haven’t watch much tv shows other than ofmd, good omens, and more so I’m not sure if they got better, I don’t know if I’ll talk about that aspect of negative reps but all say, they have harmful impact as I have a family member that will joke “when will I see numbers” which…sure it a joke but…. I can’t help but feel bad. So doing this and seeing positive rep or seeing autistic/adhd coded characters make me happy!

This is fun in so many ways, mostly because as shown in my past post I relate to aziraphale. Still don’t know how I feel about that but regardless I love his character, his flaws, everything! And I see how he autistic coded in my eyes so it makes me almost relate to him even more. And I’ve been wanting to show my personal headcanon for a while just I thought now would be the best day. Especially as this Good Omens brainrot is alive and well among my other brainrot. I do hope you guys enjoy this let me know if you wanna hear more or if you have your own personal hc that you want to share. And hope you guys are having a good day with how bizarre 2024 is and hope you’re also having fun ghostly pals.

Here a Aziracrow/ineffable husbands/spouse/wives gif:

[row-boats3]

A piece I wrote in like 20 minutes because I have Encanto brain-rot and I started thinking of how Mirabel got her “gift” in a Celebrity!Madrigals AU

……..

Mirabel returned home sluggishly, tossing her bag to the couch as soon as she crossed through the door of their home.

Unsurprisingly, the house was empty.

Mama had gone to an interview for her new cook-book, dragging Papa with her as even with her collected front she hated doing interviews alone. Tia Pepa was working hard on recording her next album with Tio Felix. Dolores was at a meeting for her cover art, Luisa at training for the athletic event, and Camilo at a table read for a new, exclusive movie he wasn’t allowed to tell her about yet.

Even Senorita perfecta Isabela would be welcome right now, but she was out too, negotiating a contract with a new, up-and-coming fashion boutique.

Once again, ordinary Mirabel was left alone as her extraordinary family won over the hearts of the public.

It wasn’t like Mirabel resents them for it.

(Well, maybe she did - just a little - but she really didn’t mean to.)

Mirabel loved her family more than anything, and they loved her. She knew her family loved her, they showed it every day. They were just so busy with interviews, and work, and fans, and fame.

(And yeah, maybe things have been tough for a couple years since Camilo had started getting serious acting work. Maybe Abuela was starting to pressure Mirabel, or asking her why she hadn’t started working on something impressive like her sisters or cousins. Maybe Mirabel felt just a tiny bit alone every time her parents, or sisters, or cousins were too busy to ask about her day or help with homework. That didn’t mean they loved her any less, right?

Right?)

She turned the TV on, just to drown out the silence of the apartment. It landed on an old rerun of a talk-show from last week, an interview of Dolores quietly teasing her new album. Mirabel left in on, the familiar voice always calming.

There she was, home alone, given full range of the top floor apartment building her family owned.

She was was wholly, completely, unequivocally bored.

With nothing better to do, she decided to actually do some homework, pulling out notebooks of her bag and flipping to the next clean page of her math one. Her eyes wandered, smiling at the paper.

Just before it was a page full of doodles from when she got bored in class, all symbols important to her family. Herbs for Mama, A thunderbolt (the name of Tia Pepa’s first solo album), a chameleon for Camilo, Flowers for Isabela who always said she wanted to be a florist before modeling took off. Beside the individual drawing had been a smaller sketch, the markings inside a pair of pants.

Mirabel paused.

She glanced down at her own, suddenly very plain skirt.

Her private school had many rules on dress code - no colored hair, uniform below the knees, black shoes.

They said nothing against modifying the turquoise uniform, did they?

In a sudden moment of weakness and ADHD hyperfixation, the teen shot up. Papa kept some extra sowing supplies in the back of his closet, didn’t he?

Somewhat quickly, with only a small fight with a jacket, she’d gotten the sowing kit and changed clothes to pull her skirt over her lap.

She sowed, carefully working the needle in and out of the fabric in a focus she’d never had before.

So often, she was “the other Madrigal”, the boring one, the child left to herself. So, if she had to be plain Mirabel, the least she could do was have a not-so-plain skirt.

Two weeks full of lonesome days passed by thanks to that needle and thread before the skirt was done, and she was no longer so plain.

She had no idea almost a year and a half after that, she sold her first fashion design, catapulting herself from ordinary Mirabel into the spotlight as one of the Magnificent Madrigals.

[triviareads]

ARC Review of A Jingle Bell Mingle by Sierra Simone and Julie Murphy

Rating: 4/5 Heat Level: 4/5 Publication Date: September 24th

Premise:

Adult film actress Sunny agrees to live with ex-boybander-slash-prior-hookup Isaac Kelly in his spare bedroom so she can work on the script for her new romantic holiday movie.

My review:

A Jingle Bell Mingle was a super sexy, super touching (ha, see what I did there) raunch-com, and the perfect way to wrap up the Christmas Notch series. We've been edged by Sunny and Isaac ever since they had an off-page threesome with another pornstar (It's what Isaac's dead wife would have wanted, okay?), and I was excited to see them pick up where they left off, even with a two-year gap.

Yes, this book does start with an early bang, and I do appreciate it not only because I love an early sex scene, but also because I love when couples don't necessarily need a lot of build-up before sex, but they have ways to go before they can actually be in a functional relationship— It feels very contemporary.

So Sunny moves in temporarily to work on her holiday movie script, and gets it in her head that the only way for Isaac to regain his creative muse is.... dates. With other people. What follows is a hilarious sequence of dates including a hot mechanic, hot librarians, and a hot catty pornstar from That threesome (Isaac and Sunny are both bisexual). Obviously they're all disasters.

Also, I LOVE Sunny; she's bubbly and quite fearless, but she also has some very real insecurities where Isaac is concerned, particularly when it comes to the emotional aspect of their relationship. She also has ADHD and you see these moments of hyperfixation throughout the book, my favorite being the mystery of the mailman, WWII soldier, and his wife, and whatever they were up to back in the day.......

As for Isaac, if you're a fan of a sadboi hero, he's your man. Isaac is.... tragic, to say the least but like, in a hot way because who doesn't love a hot tragic widower? He was also celibate for two years, between the first time him and Sunny hooked up and the present which, again, HOT.

Here's where it gets less hot but packs an emotional punch: Isaac isn't over the passing of his first wife. At all. And at first, it's sweet and sometimes even funny how dramatic and overwrought he gets at times. Then you see the extent of his unhealthy coping mechanisms, namely shutting everyone out to grieve alone, and making Sunny feel reduced to a body rather than someone he can have an emotional connection with. I really appreciate how this book deconstructs that thing romance heroes are prone to doing, where they're convinced they only have one great love of their life, and they're gone now so he can never love again. A lot of romance novels have that development off-page or kind of brush over it so it can get to the happily-ever-after, but not here. Isaac is forced to confront this not only with Sunny, but also his boyband friends/former Christmas Notch heroes.

The sex:

Isaac and Sunny are down-and-ready, anytime, anywhere kind of couple, so obviously they're a fan of a quickie (see: their first time on-page), and public sex because they just can't wait (which is how Sunny ends up shoving fistfuls of cash into a photo booth while Isaac has a hand up her skirt and rips her tights). Isaac does have a bit of a STERN edge but I'd say it's less bossy and more dirty and desperate, plus loads of dirty talk.

I also like how Sunny is never super hung-up on her body as a plus-sized woman, but there's still that moment of genuine awe when Isaac picks her up and drops her on the counter of a public bathroom (another one of their more public encounters lol), and that felt so real to me.

Also, we do get the rare contemporary romance butt stuff, and it does go both ways :D ft. the return of the gingerbread-scented lotion (iykyk).

Overall:

What I love about the Christmas Notch books is that they're genuinely funny (not all romances billed as romcoms are, in my opinion), and they're sexy, sex-positive, AND body positive in a way I rarely see in traditionally published romance novels. A Jingle Bell Mingle was no different and I'd strongly recommend it to any romcom fan.

Thank you to Avon Books and NetGalley for the advanced copy in exchange for my honest review.

[fgfluidity]

nye

Summary: The attorney’s got a new hyperfixation, and Damien’s along for the ride.

Pairing: Damien/DA

Warnings: Damien is a chronic overthinker; alcohol; a bit of suggestiveness

i did a lot of research for this one and it’s late but yknow

i have a ko-fi here

@opprose @statictay @volbeast @mirrorslament @otterlyinluv

Damien impatiently taps his cane at the edge of the sidewalk, waiting for a pause in traffic. He has a call to make, and the wait in the late-December chill makes his leg ache something fierce— something that only worsens his mood.

Finally, thanks to the traffic cop, the torrent slows; with a short nod to the man— who isn’t looking, but it feels impolite not to acknowledge him— Damien crosses the street as quickly as his leg can carry him.

The last storefronts before the city gives way to more residential zoning are pulling down their Christmas decor, red and green replaced by gold and silver, bells and tinsel in place with noisemakers and bottles of sparkling juice.

At least some of those are actual alcohol, but Damien isn’t the sort of mayor to tell on his constituency. He’s not innocent of sending along a few bottles, himself.

All this to say, Christmas is gone, and now it’s New Year’s Eve.

He grimaces, though not entirely due to the twinge in his leg.

The New Year has always been a bit of a double-edged sword in Damien’s mind.

There’s a certain excitement in preparing for the calendar to shift, celebrating with loved ones as the world passes from December into January. He’s always loved the idea of new beginnings, fresh opportunities; God knows he always dreamt of it, with his family.

There’s privilege in wealth and status, but such loneliness, such severe detachment, that he never could help wishing for something different.

As a child, he and Celine would be ushered off to bed no later than 9 o’clock; any later would make for miserable children, as his father always said, and would disrupt their strict scheduling. No breaks for holidays in his father’s book— though it never stopped him or his sister from sneaking down to take canapés, desserts, and a single glass of champagne a time or two.

It was never as fun as Christmas, but at the very least they could be left to their own devices.

Adulthood is a similar story. He works hard to ensure the city is protected and working smoothly, that his people want for nothing. It takes work all year round, work he’s happy to do.

The last week of December, though, feels as lawless as the Old West.

Between Christmas and the New Year, even his motivation begins to lag, and it’s difficult to stay on task when so many relax in the holiday haze of food and merriment. When no one else is willing, his work suffers, and a Damien who can’t work…

He’s been called relentless and obsessed, but he can’t help the irritation that creeps in with each passing day of leisure. Like a particular sort of dog, if he can’t work, his environment suffers for it.

Perhaps it won’t be all bad, though. The invitation in his pocket, cream stock and elegant inking, promises a wonderful night with close friends— something he hasn’t had since his election.

“You’re coming to this one,” Celine had said to him that morning, fluffing up her fur wrap to protect from the chill in the doorway. “I’m not taking any arguments.”

“Huh,” Damien had replied— mostly because she hadn’t even phoned about her coming. “Coming to..? Celine, come in, it’s cool out.”

“I would, but I can’t stay. Socialite business.” She gave him a wry smile, and a creamy envelope to go along with it. No— two, one carefully tied with his with a satiny red ribbon. “We’re hosting for the New Year, and I’ve about had it with you dodging our invitations. You used to love parties, Damien, and at the very least you should be at this one.”

Damien huffed, though lightly, as he pulled at the ribbon. “I still love parties,” he protested. “Not all of us can take off at a moments’ notice to have a night out— and a hell of a morning afterward.”

“As if you ever had a hangover in your life,” Celine commented, and he chose to ignore it. “The office is closed for New Year’s Day, I know it is, and you’ll want to be there for this. I’ll be there, and Mark, of course. And…”

She trailed off as he flipped over the second invitation. Not his name, not a plus one, but the attorney.

He looked up sharply, only to be met with her smug smile, a note of triumph in her eyes. “They’re coming.”

“Of course,” she replied. “They need their invitation if they’re going to make it on time. If you’d be a dear?”

In lieu of wrinkling the invitation, he briefly tensed his jaw, thinking over what might be a legal way to get one over on his meddling sister. “Why couldn’t you? Since you’ve decided to be a messenger, and all.”

“Only for you, baby brother. Besides, I think they’ll take the invitation from you much more favorably.” She fluffed up her coat again. “Be sure not to be late. You could even come together, if that would help. Best clothes, Damien.”

His aching hand pulls him out of the reverie; it still rankles him so that he stops to work the blood back into his knuckles.

At least mistletoe won’t be involved at New Year’s, he assures himself. God knows his sister and brother in law would concoct some sort of scheme to get him to admit… something.

Something he refuses to acknowledge, at that. He pointedly puts it out of his mind the last few blocks to the attorney’s abode, striding purposefully down the sidewalk.

It’s the same as ever, with the climate’s lack of change with the seasons, but it’s still a comforting sight; small, yes, and a bit unassuming, but the inside is where the real treasure lies.

Like his friend— and the thought is immediately catalogued away into Things Not To Think About.

The closer Damien draws, though, he notes something a bit strange— namely, that one of their windows are open, and every now and then, something flies out to join the small pile amassing underneath it.

It’s decidedly unlike his friend to be so cavalier about their possessions, and the confusion and worry spurs him on faster. A burglar? A collections officer?

All— or, rather, most— of his worries seem unfounded as he draws up to the window. The attorney is indeed the one tossing out old papers and broken pieces of furniture, sleeves rolled up and a bit of sweat on their forehead.

“I don’t think it’s time for spring cleaning just yet,” he calls through the window. “What on Earth are you doing?”

They pop their head up, confused, but a bright smile crosses their face as they lay eyes on him. “It’s you,” they say, and then quickly, “I mean— hello! I’m doing a cleaning for the new year. You know it’s tradition in some places?”

Damien raises an eyebrow. “It’s tradition to throw things out of your bedroom window?”

“In some places,” they repeat excitedly. “Most places have a tradition of just cleaning, but throwing things out the window is a way to get rid of bad luck without darkening your doorway.”

They must have been on some sort of research kick to know that— he could even guess from the bright look in their eye, how their words tumble over each other.

It’s been that way since they met, long nights over books and his friend regaling him with all the new knowledge they’d managed to gather. He was never interested overmuch in the intricacies of animal social behaviors, but God if he didn’t soak in every word.

He’ll admit— it’s quite the endearing trait.

“Well, if you don’t mind something else darkening your doorway,” he jokes, “I have a letter for you. Special delivery.”

“A letter?” They set down some large box of things, tilting their head. “I can’t imagine why you’d have mail for me, but— sure, come in. It’s a walk from your house, you need a sit.”

Damien could protest, but they’re already hurrying away from the window and into the depths of their home. Besides, they’re more careful with his bad leg than he is— any opportunity to host or tend him is one they’ll jump at the chance to take.

Without them, he might be worse off than a cane.

He rounds the side of the house, but he’s only just begun to ascend the stairs when the front door swings open. The attorney is a touch less disheveled than they were in their bedroom, sweat dabbed away and sleeves rolled back down, but they’re still in comfortable housework clothes.

“Come on, get in from the chill,” they urge, sweeping him in with one arm. “I put water on, but I can’t say I have any of your particular beans. You’ll have to settle for tea.”

Damien heaves a long-suffering sigh as he sheds his jacket, allowing his friend to help him hang it. “I guess so. If I must, to avoid being a rude guest, I’ll drink your tea. You know…”

They raise an eyebrow, pausing mid-shuffle of a foot stool.

“If I’d known you were doing housework, I may not have worn my suit. I feel a touch overdressed.”

His friend snorts and pushes the foot stool the rest of the way to him. “I wouldn’t expect you to go back to our college days for me. Get your shoes off and come in for tea; I’m curious about that letter.”

He’d like to go back to the college days, really. Simple and easy, running around with his closest friend with little regard for propriety or image— he regularly aches with nostalgia, but especially being in their presence. More doors seemed open wide, then, more futures at hand where they weren’t quite so locked into place.

Now he’s bound by duty, and the use of a shoehorn. It’s not how he’d have liked his future to go, much less predicted, but…

In the midst of yanking his foot free of shining leather, he hears a small clatter, followed by a muffled, “Oh, nuts.” He can’t help but smile, lining his shoes up alongside theirs; regardless of other twists and turns, they still have each other.

“Are you—“

“I’m fine! Just a bit of a butterfingers today.” More clattering, boxes and bags and cups rifled through before the solid thump of a cabinet. “Which is why we’re both having a snack with our tea and news.”

“Both?” Damien courteously returns the foot stool to its previous location. Once it’s comfortable, he follows suit on the attorney’s squashy couch, easing into the cushions with a pleased sigh. “I haven’t been throwing things out all morning.”

“You always forget to eat something when you’re buzzing.” The attorney aims a pointed look at him over a tray loaded up with mugs and various foods. “You’re out of sorts and you probably only had your coffee, so you’re eating with me.”

Damien meets their gaze, doing his best impersonation of a clueless stone wall. “You think I’ve been buzzing?”

The attorney sits right next to him on the couch, not bothering with the polite distance they give him in public, and reach for their plate. “Your cane is smudged, which means you’ve been wringing it all day.”

“Not necessarily.” He takes a sip of tea. Black, tannin-rich— just how he prefers. “Perhaps I’ve just been too busy to clean up.”

He gets a nudge at that— the warm, solid line of their thigh pressing harder into his. “I’d believe that if you didn’t match your tie to your scarf— which is mine, by the way.”

“I won it fair and square, if you recall.” Certainly hard-won, at that— he had to have used up every last scrap of luck to beat them at poker. “You know I like to keep up appearances.”

“Don’t you just.” They take a long sip from their mug in lieu of explaining themself, though the tired, far-off look in their eye gives him an inkling, along with a smidgen of guilt. “But that would include polishing your cane. You did that on the way over, after you put effort in.

“Which means,” they continue, a note of triumph coming into their voice, “that something frazzled you enough to still be on your mind, something related to the news you bring. The only person who can get you that out of shape is Celine. What’d she say?”

Damien blinks at them, then huffs a laugh. “Quite sharp. Are you sure you don’t want to swap careers to be on the police force? They’d kill for a detective like you.”

Their nose wrinkles a little over their mug. “No, thank you. Besides, the same skill set works wonders in the courtroom— and I could read you like an open book, we’ve known each other so long.”

Hopefully not too open. Damien clears his throat and digs in his pockets for the invitation. “Ah— here. She asked I hand-deliver it, though she’s perfectly capable of doing that, herself.”

“Sure, but I prefer a visit from you. You’re far less intimidating.” Paying little heed to his offense, played up as it may be, they open up the envelope. Their bright eyes scan the creamy card stock, then again.

Damien tilts his head to see their face better, but it’s irritatingly blank. Damn their poker face, for all the good it’s done them. “Is something the matter?”

“Hm? Oh— no, there’s nothing wrong, sorry.” They laugh a little, sliding the card back into the envelope. “Just— personalized, and you know how he is.”

God, does he ever. The ripped off section with detailed instructions on how to woo the attorney is presently in his trash bin under coffee grounds. “And what did he say?”

“Typical Mark teasing.” Again, that unreadable expression as they shrug, and he burns to know what they wouldn’t share with him.

As they reach for the tray, grabbing up a handful of plump grapes, he asks, “Are you coming?”

“Of course I am.” They give him a little smile. “We might be busier these days, but it’s a holiday, and I haven’t seen everyone in some time, besides.”

The knot in his chest loosens slightly, and he breathes a sigh of relief. “Good. We may all be friends, but it’s nice to have you along.”

“Would you miss me, otherwise?”

Their eyes shine even brighter, and he’s thankful a blush can’t show on his skin.

“Eat your grapes. Aren’t they good luck?”

“Yes. Which is why you should eat them if you want to keep that scarf tonight.”

—

If it weren’t for his sister and brother-in-law’s machinations, he’d have been happy to stick around all day long, basking in company that demands so little; alas, after their lunch, he excuses himself.

“Are you sure you don’t want to join me in another tradition?”

It isn’t fair to play that sort of card when he’s already thin on resolve. “What kind of tradition, exactly?”

They stop stretching their left arm over their chest, swapping over to their right. “I was thinking of going for a spin around the house, actually, but I also have some more things to toss out if you’d find it easier.”

They’re grinning, eyes shining, but he still can’t tell if this one is a joke or not. “Unfortunately, I’ll have to pass up both. My leg, for one, and for the other… well, they aren’t my things. Maybe that’s bad luck.”

“Very possible,” they muse, nodding. “You’d probably want as much strength as possible, anyway, party animal.”

“You’re one to talk, little monster.” It’s too fond to be much of a comeback, but it’s worth it for how they smile afterward. “Shall I meet you there?”

They pause in stretching, mouth open as if to say something, but they must think better of it; instead, they bend a bit to help stretch out their feet. “Sure thing.”

So… it stays on his mind a while.

Could they have wanted to join him? It’d save on a drive, yes, but surely they know the whispers that would follow.

Not that he’d give a damn, really. He’s been doing this for too long to care quite that much, and his reputation could probably do with a scandal— however false— to keep things interesting.

Celine’s words, not his, though he’s begun to see the appeal.

He should have said something. Should have offered, at the very least, to be kind.

What if that wasn’t their intention, though? What if it was a different train of thought entirely, their brilliant mind going a mile a minute, and any such offer would make things tense?

He looks down to the mild ache in his knuckles; just as earlier that morning, they’re white with tension, the gleaming wood and metal of his cane once more marred by oily fingerprints.

Damn it. With a sigh, he whips the pocket square out of his jacket to polish the worst of the smudges away. It might be a more intimate party, but he’d still like to keep tidy.

A few moments later, the black wood is about as good as it’s going to get without proper polish. Hopefully no one will look too terribly closely.

(No one ever does, but he worries.)

The handle hooked over a forearm, he goes about refolding the pocket square; only a few folds in, however, the back of his neck prickles. It’s the odd feeling of being observed, and not passively, either.

There’s no attorney when he looks up, but there is his sister, dark eyes sharp and keen as flint. Her intense stare would be bad enough for him, but after a moment, the corner of her moth lifts, and her eyes turn to the foyer.

“Oh, our esteemed guest, welcome! It’s been some time, you know,” Benjamin says, overdone accent and all muffled by the distance and din. “We’ve missed you at the tables, Mx.—“

Oh.

Before whatever Celine has in mind for him comes to pass, he needs a good drink.

A strong one.

—

Several strong ones later, he’s feeling light as a feather.

At the very least, Damien’s in good company; nearly everyone else in the ballroom is in a similar state, leaning into arms or lounges or walls. They’re merry, though, laughter and snippets of song joining in with the blaring radio at the far wall.

Even Mark and Celine look a bit bright-eyed, which is a sight. He hasn’t seen that sort of inebriation with them in years.

He can’t say the same for the attorney, for better or for worse.

A notorious lightweight, despite their absolute best efforts, he could estimate they’re as sloppy as he feels; they slump into his side, eyes glassy, though their slur can’t stop their mile-a-minute chatter.

“There’s so many, Day,” they enthuse, one hand clenching his suit jacket tight. “Everyone everywhere has a tradition, how amazing is that? Everyone does something different and new! There are ones even I don’t know!”

“I don’t know about that one, little monster,” he laughs. “You really seem to have done your research.”

“Research… that’s it!” They look up at him, as if they’ve found the discovery of the century. “Damien… what if I researched it? And wrote a book?”

If he’s honest, he’s surprised they haven’t by now, in some discipline. “You could, but it’d be a lot of work. Might take you years.”

“I have years,” they insist, “or, I could. If I wasn’t an attorney.”

“You’d give that up?” He frowns. “I thought you always wanted to be one.”

They shrug. “It comes and goes. I wouldn’t be upset, really. I could do whatever I want, then— and I’d still have you.”

They would. They’re always going to, no matter what, but if politics wasn’t in the way…

He’s pretty sick of it.

They’re here and soft and lovely, and everyone’s counting down, and he may not have done the research but he’s damn certain of one important tradition.

He pulls them in and kisses them.

It’s a little off-center, but it’s wonderful. They’re soft, warm, tasting like the dessert course and champagne, bubbles of sugar and alcohol coursing through him, enough to nearly make him take flight.

They… aren’t moving, though. Just in place, not pulling away but not leaning in.

Panicked, he pulls back, but the look of awe on their face halts any words before he can begin to say them.

“O-oh,” they say, so soft, and then they giggle. Not a laugh, but a giggle. “Um— yes, that… that could go in the book. And…”

“And..?” His breath catches, heart pounding.

“Well.” They smile a little, shy but under hooded eyes, and lean in a little towards him. “There’s another tradition. You’re supposed to wear red for luck.”

He eyes them. Not a drop to be seen. “Aren’t you worried about bad luck?”

Their sly grin grows. “No. You can check for yourself, if you want?”

Thanks to the alcohol, it takes him a good minute, but by then…

Well, they aren’t too worried about clothes, anymore.

[stormbite-art]

i feel morbidly curious since i've been looking at old sb art and stuff, what was the original story/first draft like? story-wise and character-wise? again, just curious

The original first draft, version 0.001, pre-alpha, unrendered version of Stormbite was a hot mess, but there are still some anachronisms of it in the published version because I loved messing around with it in its raw form.

RIP Version 0.001 - Circa. 2012~

The first version was written by an angsty, unknowingly asexual, hyper stressed, nerd-ass teenager full of spite filled ambition, who had a little book/art club of other nerds who were into art, manga, video games, hyperfixations on birds, mushrooms, fish, and all other niche Ology zones, that they wanted to entertain and please. We all liked sci-fi and fantasy, non-human protagonists, were all raging angrily about how a certain series was going and the state of YA fiction at the time (it was those dark 2009-2013 years where all YA fiction was paranormal romance love triangle bullshit).

Because I was full of spiteful ambitious rage, and it was not my first rodeo in deciding to make a creative project of some kind, I decided to do my own story/comic with some characters created by my nerd club friends.

It was entirely what you'd expect of a teenager who did not fear cringe and was just wanting a good time to entertain friends. Plots were flexible abstract things, and canons were loose. Ships passed in the night, and AU's were golden and hyper modifiable to fit any scenario or adaptation. There was no lore or world rules, it was a free for all.

I managed to get through almost 20 pages of colouring this super rough comic, and doing what is essentially still the first chapter without really doing a script or any forethought into what happens next. Version 0.001's remnants still exist in chapters 1-5 and that is it, everything else after that came later when I decided that drawing took too long, and writing was faster and easier to change. Drawing out thumbnails of scenes did help in writing what happened and how a fight played out however.

The original versions of the characters however:

Storm had the full anime works: She had a split personality with colour changing, glowing eyes, possessed by the spirit of her dead twin, a metal collar that couldn't be taken off, lightning and frost powers, nerdy t-shirts and converse.

Kat was originally a blonde-haired blue eyed white girl, with blue jay wings which changed. Her tail was cut off, she was a trained assassin who wore revealing ninja outfits, her and Amell was meant to be a thing.

Beth had a pet owl called Harrold who was a spy for her, wore a cavaliers hat and was a self-proclaimed technomancer who could hack anything and control technology, was cheerful and helpful, had all of her limbs, and was obsessed with blueberry muffins.

Wilny was pasty emo boy with scraggy hair and much greener wings. Also he could actually stop time rather than mess with perceptions to make it feel as though time has stopped.

Amell was a skinny, lanky dude, greek rather than kiwi, and had blue eyes, and could lift a car in flight.

Comet was more of a main character with a kind of disturbing backstory, long hair, reality manipulation powers

Raoul was a wolf-girl before she became Asena and Raoul his own person. Palmer didn't really fully exist.

Malana is more or less the same, but was meant to have horns at one point and was created in Risio but was a reject.

Sabre & Fell were generic bad guys. Rex was a good guy.

There was also a lot of other characters who either have been recycled into other minor characters (ex. Rai, Asena, the Varren group ((that was the first rodeo)) or Roux) or have been lost to time and cut completely.

Of course, time goes on, you grow and change, develop and redevelop both what you like, how you work, what you can do and prefer, so of course it evolved a lot more and there was a lot of changes along the way.

Personally, I think they all look a lot better now.

[lokiinmediasideblog]

ok so now I can rant about JiM because it's my hyperfixation lol

when I learned that they made a JiM novel I was euphoric bc I always thought the novel format was the ideal form for the story because it's a very literary comic and I also love fantasy and the Thor side of comics but I HATE superhero as a genre and I also hate superhero comics and their completely messy continuity and bonkers logic, so to me, it's like by adapting this specific run into a book it felt like they've lifted the story from it's larger context so it could exist in it's own canon bubble without having to answer to anything that came before or after these events take place. I love that the only proper superhero that appears is Captain Britain and you only hear one or another superhero be mentioned in passing so I can easily ignore that there are superheroes in this universe and pretend it's just a regular fantasy novel. I noticed that the author took some liberties with the costume descriptions (Loki wears no cowl and Leah wears a golden circlet in lieu of her bone hairpins) and I took is as a cue to disregard the imagery from the comics and reimagine everything from description in a more LOTR-like fantasy aesthetic (nothing against the talented artists that worked on the comic, but I dislike how spandexy and futuristic some asgardian outfits look in the comics)

The prose is surprinsingly good for a novelization. Novelizations usually have very dry prose, but this one is witty, evocative, and in times even poetic, which makes it feel like it was an original literary work and not an adaptation. I don't agree that it feels like a companion to the comic because in many ways, it comes off like a more complete work than the comic, with an expanded insight into the characters.

I particularly like how Loki's inner thoughts made him even funnier and more loveable than in the comic, with his little asides and daydreams, and I love how it elevates his relationships. I particularly like how it shows that, even in his good innocent form, Loki is still jealous of Thor, which is something I never got from the comics. The comics give away the impression that Kid Loki just feels pure hero worship toward his brother and any sore feelings are out of his legitimate grievances about Thor being a lousy parent figure, but the comic shows that he inherited some of his older self's pettiest feelings, which makes his relationship to Thor more nuanced and adds up to the tension that he might go evil if he lets them take over. The prose format also enhanced his chemistry with Leah. I didn't care much about their relationship in the comics because it felt too one sided on his part, but with book!Leah I had a clear sense of how much she likes him back behind the walls she puts up that I never got from comic!Leah. Loki's romantic feelings for her feel more mature in this version, in the comic is too boy pulling pigtails of the girl he likes, but here he gets to be actually earnest about his love for her, and it made the two times he loses her actually hit for me. The added scene where he gifts her books for christmas was adorable and made me ship it. Oh, and I thought making King Arthur a grumpy boomer was a nice touch of humor.

On the downside I disliked how the book does a poor job of contextualizing some stuff and introducing new characters to an impact, which is a shame because I really wanted to recommend this book to people who don't do comics so they can become addicted to JiM like myself (I'm still going to do it lol). The book has no qualms taking some liberties to make the story feel more concise, but it should have taken more liberties to make it work in its format. It also was in a serious need of an editor, because there are some continuity errors. Overall is a good book, it's well written, it honors the story and characters, and that Marvel has chosen this particular story to relaunch in a different format shows it resisted the test of time and it is a classic run.

Definitely agree that Leah and Loki's relationship was much cuter in the book (he even got her furniture), and it was heartbreaking when he had to sent her to the past just after getting her back to keep his older self from hurting her. The things I liked most are Ikol's thoughts while being a magpie, and the ominous teasing as the "teller".

I felt the book got confusing when there were changes in settings, and definitely think it needed more editing. There was a distracting typo in one of the earlier chapters (can't remember where exactly).

I think they should have recapped a little with things like Thor's resurrection for example.

[nicosraf]

I do have to ask. What was the thought process behind the orgy scene? Was there some kind of symbolism there that I simply missed? I feel like there is a maybe I'm just not looking deeply enough.

I understand that Baal liked Lucifer and was jealous of Micheal, that's very clear by his little internal monologue but I think there's something more that I'm missing.

I don't mean to bother you with all my stupid little questions. My hyperfixation is this rn and I'm tryna study it and over analyze the hell out of it because autism is super sick and fun👍but seriously, I love it so much and I'm trying to understand as much as possible so I can make my book as great as it can be.

At this point I'll have to put you in the dedication or give special thanks to you at the end of the book

Ohoho I'm kind of embarrassed to answer this because I'm actually sorta shy about the meaning of sex/sensuality/eroticism in the book so my answer will be a bit curt but!! CW: SA, selfharm, spoilers

I can go on and on about the queer coding that demons and fallen angels have always had, but some scholars have also literally described the behavior of sinning, falling together, and worshiping Lucifer to be "orgiastic". Generally, orgies among demons or in hell have been mentioned in passing in literature, poetry, and etc., forever. The orgy scene was actually one of the first scenes I came up with, since this has somewhat always been implied in so many texts, and I decided "alright, let's make it happen then !!!"

Thematically/in-story, there's a lot to that scene also (which you might be able to gather from Lucifer's confusing internal monolgue). A part of it is Lucifer's struggle to regain control of his body, another part is Lucifer's anger at Michael (a whole other complicated topic), but maybe the biggest is Lucifer's hatred of himself. Lucifer is deeply traumatized and lashing out and fantasizing of hurting himself — more precisely, he's imagining sexually assaulting his younger self (his more innocent self; Lucifer is also exaggerating his youthful innocence, but of course he is, because that's trauma for you), thereby taking on the role of God. Or a more benevolent God, not because his actions are any different, but because he's hurting himself, rather than others:

'...youll be happy it was me who did it. it’s better if it’s you. tending this garden and sniping the weeds and deflowering it. it is better like this. you will thank me. it is better like this than how it was. you’ll say you love me...’

It's worth noting that Lucifer wouldn't understand sex the way we/humans might. And what Lucifer might've understood as an act of love (the Interlude!!!) is turned into a dirty act of dominion. Lucifer wants to hurt himself, but he's also trying to turn it around and use sexuality as a tool of control (like God has done to him). And he wields it to bring Baal and the other angels to his side.

Notably, God "leaves" after the orgy, before the war and violence has even started.

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

hi!!! so i have been following your YouTube channel since (checks calender) 2018 so it's been a while, and I'm a huge fan, just a lil shy (you're so cool holy shit, your writing is mind blowing, aaaaaa), so ANYWAY the point of this ask is, body back sounds awesome, might i request some more vibes perhaps 👀👀👀

Omg hi!!!! I could cry to learn someone’s been watching my videos for so long 😭 thank you for all your support!! ❤️ when people think I’m cool it makes me v excited because I’m really just a little gremlin IRL! Happy you like my writing & appreciate all the engagement!

Of COURSE I can send more vibes for BB! First, here's just an excerpt because I'm about to go ham under the cut lol:

The pool he floats in belongs to a young couple. The man works real estate according to the signs Harrison’s seen of his face peppered around the neighbourhood. He’s wondered if that’s ever humiliating, to constantly see pixelated versions of yourself everywhere. But that doesn’t matter. His wife walks dogs in her free time, which means always. Last week, Harrison watched her jog with a vizsla, and just yesterday she spent the morning on their gable-roofed veranda brushing a wispy Alaskan malamute. That was the same veranda Harrison passed on his way to their yard’s fence. Perhaps they wanted someone to do what he did: hook his boot into the crisp rung of their gate, then swing right over. Why else would it have been so easy?

More in-depth BB rambles under here!

CW: drug addiction, mental illness, violence & suicide.

This project is taking over me right now, which might be a way of my brain procrastinating finishing Seventh Virtue (LOL), but I’ve learned to just lean into the hyperfixation so we’re here now!

I really felt drawn to write BB because of this extremely complex thing Harrison goes through in Moth Work that unbeknownst to 17-year-old Rachel who wrote it, she reaaaaaallllly relates to now at 21. I've been unable to stop thinking about this since re-reading MW, because I somehow profoundly represented this experience at 17 that I'm now undergoing at 21.

Harrison is supporting someone who needs a LOT of help (at this point in MW, Lonan’s been an addict for about 3 years, is chronically depressed, is in a constant disocciated state, has attempted suicide twice in less than a year). He feels responsible for this because he loves this person very much--he WANTS to help Lonan. But I don't think he realizes how much effort this will entail and that he himself doesn't have the sole power to "fix" anything. But he’s so young—how long can he handle this before he himself breaks?

The answer is: not long! One could say Harrison’s fatal flaw in MW is not wanting to change. He doesn’t WANT to leave Lonan behind because he doesn't WANT to lose him, he doesn’t WANT a relationship with his mom, Suzanna. At the same time, his life is at this tenuous impasse: things CANNOT sustainably continue in the state they're in, but he's terrified of them changing. And by the end of the book, both of those things happen—it’s his arc. The loose end is the prior point: he's terrified of change, but now the change has happened.

What I want to do in BB is take that loose end and light it on fire. I want to show what happens when that change happens. It's NECESSARY change, but in this moment, feels like the worst decision possible. BB is about the in-between space of being in a destructive relationship & eventually putting yourself first. For Harrison, the experience is extremely messy. He craves intimacy badly but has no idea how to love anyone but Lonan. He craves independence but is also scared of it: how do you start your own life when the last few years have been focused on someone else's?

In Moth Work, he creates the beginnings of a relationship with a man named Jeremiah (to be clear: H&L aren’t dating in MW, they never canonically actually date unlike how I make it sound LOL, only in the Seventh Virtue AU are they a couple!). Jeremiah is a really interesting character in Harrison's life because he represents something "normal." Here's when Harrison meets him in MW:

The motel is named after a dead woman—The Greta Arquette. Harrison discovers this while absently thumbing through a brochure at the empty front desk. The lobby is decorated with vintage clocks and floral wallpaper and it makes sense—the woman it’s dedicated to died at 92. He’s on page six when a young man with an earring and a hair pick appears behind the desk.

Harrison shuts the brochure and slots it back into the display. “Can I get a room?” he asks, already fumbling for his wallet.

“Long ride?”

The clerk—Jeremiah, according to his nametag—smiles. His skin glows amber under the lanterns hung from the ceiling, and his hair looks too good for 2AM. The collar of his uniform pastes underneath his sweater, and it’s almost charming, this unnoticed mistake.

Wait up for my video later today (3PM EST!!) where I literally in-depth analyze a couple scenes with Jeremiah (since I talk more about this there), but essentially, Harrison gets a small taste of what it might be like to be a "typical" 21-year-old here. It entails dancing with people you think are cute, enjoying each other's company without doing anything at all, going to breakfast, etc... All things he and Lonan have never done.

In BB, I want to show the breakdown of this "normal" relationship as Harrison more and more self-destructs to self-preserve. He literally cannot handle this change he's incited--who is he at all without Lonan? He doesn't know, and he can't handle that he doesn't know, so he "goes bad." There's brief mentions of this turn in Feeding Habits where Harrison addresses he was a bit of a disaster when he and his mother lived in Las Vegas, which is why his main goal in FH is to "restart" in NYC (and it's why he also gets destructive again in NYC when his second reboot fails).

I always knew elements of what happened to Harrison in Las Vegas, but didn't know the extent. In FH, the only element we're certain of is when he runs into the same woman Lonan runs into in ch. 6 of Moth Work. He essentially ends up being beat up badly, which for him (mostly his mother, Suz) is the last straw and what makes them pack up to NY.

It was only later, when he stumbled, bloody knuckled, through their front door, stepping over partygoers and martini glasses, that he understood. He hadn’t come to the party thinking about Lonan but managed to attract the same people. He hadn’t drunk the magenta liquid thinking about him but managed to exit the house stumbling, as Lonan did, his knees knotted like a newborn lamb's. There was something inconceivably indissoluble about them—their bond mirror-like, one making a decision, and the other mimicking it with vigour somewhere else, unknowingly inseparable.

But I've been wanting to write what happened BEFORE this, in the time between, which is what BODY BACK is going to be! Here's an excerpt from FH (ft. Jeremiah) that takes place during this timeline:

They saw each other in brief, neon stints. Drinking in his one-bedroom, after Jeremiah’s shifts at The Greta Arquette—a dingy motel—clattering, limb by limb, under his Styrofoam disco ball and calling it dance. They knew each other so little but so well. Where each groove of skin and bone on the other’s body was, what limbs could notch so perfectly together, like nubs of old soap fused together.

The vibes are going to be pretty much the above! Mirror balls, pop music, drugs in misty rooms, eat the rich, etc.

I've been excited to write this story because it shows a side of Harrison I only barely understood when I wrote Feeding Habits. It's actually why Feeding Habits was IMPOSSIBLE for me to write, because I was still seeing Harrison in "caretaker" mode when he actually was rejecting that fully. I wasn't used to seeing him make bad decisions. For all accounts, Harrison is a terrible person in FH. He takes advantage of his mother's kindness, he disappears to scare her, he's self-medicating, he's inviting Reeve to his place under the guise of catching up with an old friend when he actually doesn't care at all about her and only wants to see a glimpse of Lonan's face, he's stealing from the vulnerable, and doesn't want to stop any of it. FH is really Harrison's destruction arc, and BB is going to explore HOW that happened--what triggered those events?

I'd always seen Lonan as the "issue" in their relationship. This was natural in a lot of ways since Lonan started out as a literal villain (lol), but also mostly because I emotionally related to him most back when I was writing him. ALLL my negative emotions and struggles went right to him. It's why Lonan was my favourite character all throughout my teenage years. What I didn't expect is that at the age they're at in this book (21), I'd suddenly understand Harrison on a very, very different level. This is also another reason I want to write this like NOW because I'm 21 and in a similar (albeit wayyyy less dramatic) era. Is this sort of going to be autofiction, maybe!

I think in MW, Harrison doesn't feel much like an "adult" yet. in BODY BACK, he KNOWS he's an adult, and goes a little too hard knowing he can do whatever the hell he wants. If Harrison can do what he wants, it means he can reclaim himself even if it means destruction along the way. What's he willing to do to get his body back?

That's a q to ponder!

It's going to be lots of fun! LOL

[raysletters]

Ask game!

thank you @read-and-write-, @suseagull04 and @daisymae-12 for tagging me <33

name: ray (or the less common name that is my actual birth name that ppl on discord might know 💀)

sign: aries sun, virgo moon and escorpio rising

time: 7:47pm (what's with all these specific questions?? 💀💀)

favorite band/artist: this is so hard yall this changes by seasons ajdbkzhsdbjwdbkasbansjsj rn its taylor swift and no, i dont have tickets to see the movie and im very sick atm so if i ever see a spoiler i might scream and cry.

fun additions (bc i have never been able to decide 💀) are måneskin (AND IM SEEING THEM THE 24TH), conan gray, and twenty one pilots

last movie: i- i think it was something about rock art for my audiovisual narrative class??? bc it was either that or rwrb i think

last show: the other two on hbomax (thanks to dany's recommendation and i finished it up in like a week ahdndjsbdjsbsmdhsj), before that was heartstopper season 2 that im waiting a bit to rewatch shsksjsksjsksjskssusksj

when i created this blog (and other blogs): i have absolutely no idea. ive created several blogs for different fandoms ive been in, and then have deleted most, if not all, of them because as soon as my hyperfixation passes, i cringe at myself from literally a year ago. learning and growing and all that jazz ig. though, replying to the actual question 💀, i guess this one started to become active by july for @the-brownstone anniversary fic exchange(?

do i get asks: i think the only time ive gotten asks was on nice ask day and it was really cool, but y'all can absolutely ask me anything always (not that im really interesting, but i can give you colombian food recommendations :DDDD)

average hours of sleep: its either 4 or 12 hours, theres no in between. it all depends on my blood sugar levels yaaay /s

instruments: i have a piano in my room and all, i learned to play with my right hand thanks to youtube, but then my motor skills have never been really good, so im still struggling to learn to use both hands correctly, but oh well.

what i'm wearing: pijamas (mainly bc im really fucking sick and it hurts to breathe oh yay /s)

dream job: writer, be a book writer or script writer or journalist writer (my top three in that order), i just want to put my ideas out there in the world (which is incredibly funny when you realize ive had a writers block for ages and the diabetic!henry fic has gone more than a year without updating)

im incredibly late to this as always, but oh well. is there anyone that hasn't do it?? idk but if u see this and u haven't, ur absolutely not obligated to do it :D

[trans-axolotl2]

2022 reflections

usually always do a thing at the end of the year where i look back at the year and do my wrap up journal entry. thought i'd post it here <3 trigger warning for eating disorder discussion, no mention of weights or numbers or really much specific behaviors.

January 2022: Most of the things I remember from this month is top surgery recovery. The recovery was sort of sensory awful, but it brought So much joy with it and I also felt so joyful that I got to be with my boyfriend and he was there during the recovery process. I remember it being really horribly cold but not awful. Got really into jellyfish randomly and started hyperfixating on them after going to the aquarium. first time i started having the ceiling people hallucination!

February 2022: genuinely can't remember much of february. I think I was getting more and more invested in learning stuff about antipsychiatry. I think this is also when things started getting bad eating disorder wise again and I was also having a bunch of trauma flashbacks. i was really determined not to admit to myself that anything was wrong because i knew that if i started admitting one thing was wrong then everything was just going to fall apart and I didn't want to do that right then.

March 2022: I remember celebrating my birthday with friends and going to Nationals for ballroom dance! both of those things were super fun. Physically was feeling so fucking horrible all the time + was having mobility issues. Pretty sure I had a lot of pretty bad paranoid psychotic episodes during the month? can't quite remember. had like a spiritual experience while reading a book of trans poetry and decided I wanted to journal outside for like a month but then stopped lmao. got a little better mood wise because it started being sunnier out and i was going outside more! pretty sure this was when I joined a new antipsych org.

April 2022: Things were definitely spiraling pretty badly with my eating disorder but at this point I had stopped seeing my dieititan and it was reallly going downhill. Still desperately trying to hang on. I remember sleeping in and skipping a lot of classes and feeling physically horrible all the time. got doxxed by some neo nazis because I was counter-protesting their transphobic protest. I remember having some really good times with my college friends though!

May 2022: Finals season! I remember being so unwell but spending hours every day at the library and writing some really good papers and just being so stressed even though I passed my classes. Changed my hair from purple to green. Moved into a different dorm. Started a new job. Got really manic. Got forearm crutches to help with my mobility challenges! Started to recognize that my eating disorder was actually getting really bad again. The second half of May was kind of nice though.

June 2022: Both my jobs were stressful but not awful. Eating disorder was really, really bad, and I physically felt awful literally every day. It was getting out of control. My treatment team started suggesting residential treatment. I went to a drag show, got manic at pride and got way too drunk at pride while on a call with a treatment center lmfao. Had fun with my friends at pride though :). Probably the worst my eating disorder has ever been and just the whole month I remember feeling tired and hating myself and just so completely miserable in a way I've never felt before.

July 2022: Agreed to start the process of going to residential treatment. Spent the first three weeks just doing intake calls, getting on waiting lists, doing research, everything. Made a beautiful little stuffed animal bear with forearm crutches and decided I wanted to reopen my Etsy but then got institutionalized lmfao. July 22nd 2022, I was admitted to residential treatment for my eating disorder. The first couple weeks just felt like a daze. I loved my original millieu that was there from my week one. Four people discharged the week I was there, but everyone there was so welcoming. I didn't get to go outside for all the weeks I was there in July, and I ordered a lot of stuff on amazon like yarn and a paint by number set. I remember just feeling like none of this was real and was still convinced I would be out of there in four weeks. I still was really incapable of understanding a lot of the ways my eating disorder was a problem. Thinking back on it most of what I remember is slow summer days, playing a lot of Bananagrams with my favorite staff member, and being so overwhelmed and confused. Also remembering the upset about the door curtains. Had a lot of realizations about trauma and control and how my eating disorder worked. I started making everyone origami creations and also started journalling every day becauase I felt so scared about the psych record being the only record that matters.

August 2022: Was overall a really difficult month. Still instituionalized and had to deal with my university trying to kick me out and then making the decision to take the semester off. Started really feeling a lot of the violence of institutionalization. I started really, really becoming close friends with patients and we would spend so much time together cause every day that's all there was to do. August 2nd was the first day I said out loud that I valued recovery. I started having some motivation now and then, and got into a cycle where I could get on the highest level for a couple days and then would dramatically crash and burn. A new patient came who like irrationally annoyed me for a week lmfao because he was really Christian. I ran community meeting for the first time and loved it because I loved complaining. Started getting really close with one patient in particular and we were helping each other at meals and keeping each other accountable. Started struggling with SH in treatment so I got put on protocol. there was a really dramatic incident that happened in treatment because the staff were fucking incompetent and two of my best friends in treatment got kicked out. one of my tumblr mutuals came to the same treatment center and that was really lovely because i was like thank god another trans person to talk to antipsychiatry with and then now they've turned out to be like one of my best friends for life (and im seeing them next week actually!) One of my fav patients who I felt really protective of stepped down and I got to do her warrior leader name ceremony at her sending ceremony and we all cried.

September 2022: Probably one of the most difficult months of my year so far. Growing closer and closer to all my friends in treatment. This was the month I had a feeding tube in for 3 weeks. It was really, really difficult. Sensory wise it felt awful, emotion wise it made me really really depressed, and meant I couldn't go outside. It was just so so difficult. When I got it out I remember how proud and happy everyone was and the support of everyone really kept me going. Was the creation of the Pisces full moon!!! The feeding tube was really the turning point in my eating disorder recovery. It was the moment I realized that it was never going to stop, that these justifications were never going away, that there was never going to be the point where I was happy and that all these intrusive thoughts were really just the surface level manifestations of a way I coped with my trauma. Realized a lot of the ways I coped through avoidance. Realized that day by day that although I didn't choose to have a brain that told me to cope in these ways and suggested restriction a million times a day, I could actually choose to counter them. Was not fucking easy and I could not have gotten through it without everyone.

October 2022: Went to the emergency room and then got well enough I went out on passes! I went to the zoo, to the craft store, to the aquarium, to the mall, to the coffee shop. We had a lot of new admits who would come for one day and then elope. I started actually getting a lot a lot a lot better. Really putting in a lot of work and also really feeling so much energy and able to connect with my friends. Goblin club!!! Did my weight exposure and then stepped down to partial hospitalization on October 18th!!! I was so nervous but so happy to reunite with my friends who were in PHP. Started staying in the supportive living with my treatment bestie and really loved spending evenings with them, having a ravine experience, all of that.

November 2022: Complete emotional roller coaster. PHP was sort of the time to stop avoiding things. Became so close to the PHP patients as well and really did a lot of like, collective processing of instituionalization trauma together. Emotional highs and emotional lows but all together SO transformative. One of my treatment friends wrote us a song that made me cry. i cried so much and just. Felt so completely healed in ways I had never anticipated. Got nose piercings with my patient friends. We got another patient to tattoo us all matching recovery tattoos. We went to build a bear together and got really drunk together. I cried so much at my sending ceremony and we stayed up really late my last night just talking with these people I've grown to love so so much. On November 18th I was discharged from treatment. I felt so completely insane being back in the real world--I didn't know what to do or how to act. Started couch surfing with friends. Spending time in Ohio, and then off to Pittsburgh.

December 2022: Adjusting to being back in the real world. No longer going through each day measuring what would happen compared to the schedule of meals and bathroom breaks and outside breaks and group therapy. Still keeping up with my outpatient treatment. Doing embroidery again!! Spending time with my best friend from high school and watching a lot of reality tv with them. Having a few low mood moments and psychosis, but overall feeling fragile but good. Then going to Philly for Christmas and feeling the best I have in weeks. Spending Christmas with my extie and his family and just. Realizing how much better I'm doing. how much more at peace I am. How I'm motivated and excited and know that I am deserving of so much better. How at the beginning of this year I thought I was horrible and couldn't make friends and leaving this year with so much love and connection in my life. Knowing that I won a research grant and can do even more stuff next year.

Overall this year has been one of the most challenging years of my life in a new way. Not the worst year of my life by far, but one where I had to push myself and I had to do a lot of work. And just. 2022 is a year I'm going to remember forever I think. The people I've met this year--E, E, M, C, A, I, R, J, S. The friends who have been there for years and are still here. The memories of goblin club, outside breaks, PHP adventures, the snaps we'd write each other. Idk. I think that's what defined my 2022. Community. This year more than any other I have felt loved and understand what community looks like when you have to fight for it to exist every day, when you're surrounded by violence and power and coercion every day and you still manage to show each other that much love.

[caffeinated-chaos-bean]

Posting this here because I feel like standing up for myself. Do I need to? Probably not, but it's going to make me feel better and given I have addressed this type of behavior in the pinned post on my blog, I just feel it needs to be addressed.

I like Michael Jackson and his music. I've sias it before and I'll say it again, I don't care what your opinion of him is so long as you aren't being petty and using it as a means to get under my skin. I understand that people make their MJ jokes and their silly "hee hee" jokes, buy at least they can actually be SEEN as jokes. Even if they may be off color, they still can easily be read as a joke. Fine. So long as those jokes are NOT at mine or someone else's expense, it's whatever. But the moment when you make a "joke" that literally consists of less than 4 words and then get defensive when someone doesn't immediately get the "joke" and turn to insults is just bullshit and stupid.

Below are some screenshots of an interaction with someone who I am going to just consider a troll and won't be interacting with further. I will not say what site this is on, but if you use their mobile app then I'm sure you'll recognize it. While I'm annoyed with them, I do want to make it a point and say DO NOT go after and harass them. It isn't worth the time or effort, and it's just going to cause more problems. However, I didn't hide their username because it's a way to let others know that they are, at least from this interaction and my opinion, a troll.

As I touched on with them in my final response, this type of behavior and "joke" can, believe it or not, trigger someone's anxiety and ptsd from past events, and that's exactly what this did to me.

I didn't know about Michael until it shook the world and crashed the internet that he had passes away. This was my introduction to his music and his legacy and I loved it. I was in 5th grade and I went gung-ho with the hyperfixation and this lasted until the summer after leaving 6th grade. I got my friends together and we did the Thriller dance for our 5th grade talent show. I bought his autobiography and my family bought me several other books and affordable accessories that I would like. Hell, I got vote the 3ds and Wii copies of MJ the Experience video game lmao.

But... why did my love for him and his music only last those two years?

Because I was bullied. Heavily bullied. I was made a target by all the stuck up girls and stupid boys from then on and I never really heard the end of it until getting into higschool. I was told how the only reason that I liked his music was because I secretly hoped he would kidnap me, take me to Neverland, and rape me "like he did to all the other little boys and girls". Parents of these kids would even chuckle and their kids' behavior ans bullying NEVER was reprimanded, being written off as kids being kids. Whenever Thriller came on at our elementary school dances, I wanted to have fun and dance yet these bullies would make the effort to literally try and trip me and make me fall to the floor and laugh every time and is the reason I stopped going to any school dances until my senior prom.

This bullying made me stop listening to Michael's music. Note that I was roughly 13 years old at this time. I didn't listen to ANY of his music again and probably never would have if it weren't for my one IRL friend surprising me by putting an MJ spotify playlist on in her car while she drove me to the mall for my 22nd birthday.

Note that age gap? 13yrs to 22yrs. I stopped listening to his music for almost 10 years because of the bullying and harassment I'd suffered from growing up. And yes, after that I went into another hypwrfixation because I forgot how much his music helped me relax and just let go for once.

So again, what may seem like a joke to you may not to others and just might trigger their anxiety and ptsd. It sure did for me with this troll and their "joke". When this happens, my ptsd is triggered and I go on the defensive and, as a redhead, get upset. Rightfully upset, at that.

Mind how your "jokes" may come across. It may be funny for you, but for some it brings emotional flashbacks and can trigger someone's anxiety and ptsd.

[logically-asexual]

im just so intrigued by the fact that i wasn’t able to understand a single movie or book i watched or read as a kid. i could never keep track of the story or the characters.

ramble got long putting it under a read more

i always felt like when you tap on the first episode of a show on netflix but for some reason it starts playing the first episode of their latest season and you’re super confused about everything because there’s three seasons of lore you’re missing.

i don’t remember the story of a single book we read in school. i remember short scenes here and there that surprised me or made me feel emotional for some reason but that’s it. i never knew the context. i never understood the whole story. i don’t know how i ever passed spanish or english class.

for a while we used to go to the library and they would read to us a chapter of a book each week and i could never pay attention. i just remember zoning out staring at my nails or the table or anything. we read the hobbit that way i think and i always felt like i had missed a class and very important info with it but no. i hadn’t.

silent reading time was also torture. i couldn’t read i also just stared at nothing for twenty minutes and it was excruciating.

and i also cant remember any movies i watched at the cinema. i remember when we got together to watch the hunger games (and i had allegedly read the book) and everyone was talking about what the movie adaptation did or didn’t include and i was so absolutely lost. no idea what anyone was talking about.

the only thing about my childhood i remember understanding and processing alright was tv shows. i perfectly remember nick sitcoms and cartoons. i think it has to do with the fact that i could watch those over and over again before a new season aired, so i got enough time and repetition to seal stuff in my memory.

i don’t know. i think that wasn’t normal probably. then one day some time after eight grade maybe i was just randomly granted the gift Understanding Media. well. mostly movies, i still struggled with reading in high school. i remember i never read things fall apart, but a children version of the book i had for some reason, and i passed somehow. i still don’t know what the book was about.

i remember my piano teacher saying when i was fourteen that i was at an age when i should read so much because teens are so emotional (in a good way) and full of wonder so romantic (as in romanticism, not romance) stories were great for letting all that bloom or whatever. but that only made me feel bad because i felt how time was slipping away from me and i was missing my chance at enjoying a big chunk of literature.

i don’t think i have adhd or some kind of disorder that could cause that level of inattentiveness but who knows. if i did then why can i suddenly understand movies and stuff? did my brain just develop too late in that aspect?

i usually attribute apparent adhd symptoms from my childhood to anxiety and burnout. because it’s way more likely since i’ve always been anxious and the executive dysfunction and lack of memory can easily be explained by anxiety too. but this thing about the movies and books remains unexplained and i don’t know if i will ever truly know what happened there. and also adhd seems to come with this “hyperfixations and obsessive consumption of media” thing that is exactly the opposite of my entire life experience. that’s the main reason i steer away from the term.

i am trying to actually read now. i know it’s an insane thing for a 22 year old to say but i don’t know when the last time i read something that wasn’t a textbook was before dracula daily. now that it’s over i’ve proved that my brain can keep track of a written story, at least when it is serialized and i have time to process its parts like with the kids tv shows.

i want to read more to get out of this hole. but i also want to know why the hell i am in this hole in the first place. i have almost nothing to look back on nostalgically like people who loved star wars as kids and made their own halloween costumes and had a toy collection and more. i just watched sitcoms and cartoons to laugh and escape from the world, not to understand any themes or messages. i feel like something was stolen from me and i’ll never get it back.