#i am incredibly privileged to have been able to get help

[lemon-tea-leaves]

If you're gonna go around talking about how invalid self-diagnosis is and how you should ALWAYS just go to a doctor because they're the experts, consider doing the following instead:

Reminding yourself that no doctor is infallible, and unfortunately there are shitty and VERY misinformed doctors out there

Advocate for the spreading of accurate information about the neurodivergence or illness or disorder or etc.

In that same vein, dispel myths and misconceptions about said Brain And Body Things™

Advocate for easier access to evaluation and diagnosis

Support people who have been medically gaslit in the past and just want to know what's going on with themselves

Support people who have had their life affected by their symptoms (despite not knowing what was causing them) and just want to know what's going on with themselves

Support people who just Feel something Wrong and just want to know what's going on with themselves

Just fucking support people and stop tearing others down because you're white knighting

There are people intentionally making a mockery of things like DID or being autistic, among other things. And there are people who mis-self-diagnose (usually due to research that isn't deep enough) and are fed misinformation which leads to them misrepresenting the disorder.

But there are also people who have the symptoms, looked into the symptoms, found something that matched the symptoms, and maybe FINALLY felt they had an answer when they couldn't find one because they didn't have the means or whatever the reason.

And you're telling them that they're making a mockery of a disorder because they wanted to find a reason. And it's because you associate them with the people on TikTok that you roll your eyes at. And it's fucking annoying.

TL;DR:

Maybe instead of being a dick about self-diagnosis, you could help set a path towards making it so people don't have to in the fucking first place.

(Also, as for my opinion on self-dx, self-dx with a good amount of research from verified accurate sources = A-OK. I'm saying this as a professionally diagnosed person who has had to self-dx in the past. I've been wrong about some things and right about others, and professionals have been right about some and wrong about others. But it helped to set me down the right path. I wouldn't be where I am if I hadn't.)

[multific]

A Thousand Years

Astarion x Reader

Summary: Astarion tells a story of love.

"Tell me about your wife." said the man sitting in front of Astarion, the room was quiet around them, only the crackling of the fire could be heard.

Upon hearing the word, wife, Astarion's features softened. 

"It might be a long one."

"I want to hear it." insisted the man as he leaned back in his chair, waiting for Astarion to start.

Astarion smiled, his eyes filled with love as he began.

"My wife... My beloved Y/N. She saved me you know, in more ways than one. She not only helped me kill the man who caused me so much pain and suffering, but she saved me from myself.

My beloved was a strong woman, brave and incredibly beautiful. She was a kind soul and yet, she could kill a thousand men without taking a break.

She loved songs and loved to dance. Although that might be because I was the one dancing with her. She often said she didn't wish to dance with anyone else but me.

She enjoyed sweets. But only the ones I have given her.

And even if I told her not, she kept on eating them.

It has been so long yet, I will never forget her laugh. She became my world. You know, it wasn't even intentional, I fell in love by accident. I was only meant to seduce her so she would help me kill Cazador. And yet I found myself in love.

But make no mistake, I never regretted the feelings I have. Not once. Falling in love with her was so easy.

I am quite privileged to be able to tell that she was my wife.

My... scars on my back, she cried when she first saw them. She hugged me and told me how sorry she was for I had to endure such pain. She kissed me and cried at the same time. I was so confused by it, I didn't know what to do.

But then, not long after, I asked her to marry me." Astarion looked at the gold band on his finger.

"I never believed in marriage, I thought it was silly for people to bind themselves to one another, and the symbol of it all... a simple ring. I laughed at the idea until I met the person I never wanted to let go of again. Suddenly I wanted nothing more but to have her bonded to me and for me to be bonded to her. I looked and searched for the perfect rings. Matching ones, but hers had a simple stone in the middle. A stone which was made of our blood. The perfect diamond, mixed with my and her blood. And then, we were married. Not like the words of others mattered to me, I would have been happy just to have her in my life, but to have her as my wife... it meant everything. 

I will not bore you of the events directly after the wedding, leave it up for your imagination I suppose, but I can assure you, she was the first woman who could have me at her feet with a simple look.

And she always looked at me with so much love and care. She was always so gentle and lovely.

When people say love burns like fire, they lie, my love for her burns like lava, much like the core of the Earth. I was ready to destroy everything and everyone who would dare get between us. If I had to, I would have burnt down villages for her, for she was mine.

And not long after, she gave me the greatest gift. 

A gift so precious.

I will never forget the look on her face when she told me, pure happiness.

She was with child.

Something I never even thought would be possible for me and yet there she was, getting more and more round with my child, with my son. Our son.

She was the sun for me. I have lived a long life in darkness and pain, and she made it all go away with a simple simple. I had a life of happiness thanks to her." Astarion leaned back in his chair once more when the noises from the kitchen stopped.

"STOP TELLING PEOPLE I'M DEAD!"

"I have never used the word 'dead', My Love." Astarion turned to look at you as you exited the kitchen.

"But you made it sound like I am." you pouted as Astarion looked at the ring on your finger, he smiled as you placed the food on the table. "Don't listen to him, Love, he is but an old romantic." you said as you sat down.

"I am very much aware, Mother. I just like to listen to him talk about you." admitted your son as he smiled at the two of you. Now a grown man, yet all you could see was him as a little boy running around the house, hair silver like his father's but eyes the same as yours.

"That's because I love your mother very much."

"I love you too." you replied as you all finally began to eat.

You two loved each other for a thousand years, and you will continue to love for another thousand to come.

Your son could only hope to find such love.

Taglist: @fleursirvart@greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace@sincerelyfan@theoneanna@aestheticsandmarvel@rororo06@castellandiangelo@destynelseclipsa@spilledinkindumpster@capsiclesdoll@puknow@alwayshave-faith@alex12948@lxdyred@imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl@anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek@praline357 @trshngyn@avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak @manduse@jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie@noname2246

In case you want to help out a dreamer: patreon.com/multific  

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

[luveline]

would you ever be willing to write the day spencer and stripper!reader met in the grocery store? i’ve always loved the concept when you’ve referenced it in the story, i would love to read it👀 you’re absolutely incredible and i can never say anything not anon to you because my blog is flooding you with notes constantly and i’m embarrassed😅

thank you for your request ❤️ fem!reader, 1.5k

cw for domestic violence and workplace abuse

There's this weird organic grocery store by Spencer's place that's far too expensive, but it's a ten minute walk, so that's where he goes. (Weird in separation to organic.) 

He needs a lot of groceries now he's home for the week. Bread, vegetables, rice, flour if he wants to try and make pancakes, which he does. He also needs a new pen to write a letter for his mom, but Leaven is slightly too small for a stationery section. 

He doesn't know what he'll say to her in this one. Maybe that the cases he's going on are easy, or that he's been reading about crows. She's not feeling well lately. It might help her to know he's doing gentle things, even if it isn't true. 

No, he thinks. Can't lie to her. He never lies to his mom. 

Eggs. Sugar. Coffee grounds. He fills his cart. It'll be a lot to carry on the way home, but better to do it in one go. He likes keeping busy but he's a human being, too, and he's looking forward to spending at least sixteen hours in bed after dinner tonight. 

You look tired, too. 

Your back is turned, but Spencer knows it's you. You must live close by, he's been seeing you duck in and out for months. Usually with a loaf of bread or a single box of painkillers tucked in your pocket. You don't steal, he'd be able to tell, and he wouldn't say anything if you did, anyways. All he knows about you is that you have a nice smile when you have the energy, and your voice is like silk. Purposeful or by nature, he's yet to guess. 

You're standing by the end of the aisle near the checkouts with a basket hanging from your fingers. All you're buying today is a box of pancake mix and a bag of peas. 

Weird, he thinks with a smile. Spencer likes weird stuff. It's quirky. 

You turn to see which checkout is empty and Spencer's smile abruptly drops. 

You have a bruise across half of your face. It isn't strictly fresh —he can see the split skin on your cheek starting to close in on itself, and your purpled eye is open (though barely). You're frowning. Spencer knows how bad it hurts to get hurt like that. For a split second he can't believe someone could do that to another person, and then he remembers the hundreds of women he's had the privilege to meet at their most vulnerable, who trusted him, and he thinks maybe he's capable of helping another one. 

“Hey,” he says. 

You meet his eyes with a funny smile. “Hey. Sorry, am I in the way?” you ask, your voice stretched, thin but not weak. 

“No, you're not, it's… I see you here all the time.” 

You hold your breath. When you talk, it rushes out. “So?” you ask wearily.

“Are you okay?” 

Your funny smile fades as Spencer's had. He supposes that's the talent of cruelty. Even when it's over, it's not truly over. Your bruise still hurts, and Spencer still needs to know you'll be okay when you go home tonight. 

“I see you all the time too. We've… we've actually spoken before, haven't we?” you ask after a moment. 

“Yeah, about spirometry. I was out of breath running and–” It doesn't matter. You asked him if he was okay, and he explained that he was, just that his lungs don't hold much air on account of his own laziness, and it doesn't matter. “Are you? Alright? It's a bad bruise.” 

“It's getting better.” 

It might be, but there's something so raw about seeing you standing there in your sweatpants too big for you and a hoodie with a hole in it, purple and yellow contusion across your eyes and nose like the clumsy stroke of a paintbrush. Spencer will admit to feeling sorry for you.

“Can I talk to you?” he asks, knowing this isn't the right place. “There's the cafe at the front? Let me pay for my stuff and–” 

“I'm really okay–” 

“You had a cast on your wrist two weeks ago and now you're here with a limp and a really bad bruise,” he says softly, imploringly, “I just wanna talk to you about it. You don't have to say yes, I'm not trying to be weird, but I–” 

You cut off his mile a minute speech with a small smile. “Okay. I'm not, you know, doing anything anyways. It'll be nice to sit down.” 

Spencer knows it's dumb, but he wants to show he has good intentions. He takes your basket out of your hands and nods toward the cafe past the checkouts. “I'll come and meet you.” 

“You don't have to,” you say, gesturing at the basket. 

“The damage is done, right? This place is ridiculous.” He doesn't like the way you're holding your hip. It makes him feel sick, even though there's no proof one way or another to say you've been hurt beyond your bruising.

He pays for his things and yours and meets you at the cafe. He's half expecting you to have bolted, but you sit at a table near the entrance, completely still. 

Spencer puts his two bags under the table and offers you your pancake mix and peas in their own bag. 

“Thanks.” 

“Yeah, no problem.” 

“It was my boss.” You look at your fingers, spreading them slowly over the table top. “I’m a dancer. Sorry. I know you’re going to ask.” 

“And he hit you?” 

“Yeah.” 

Spencer knows the number for every women’s shelter in every state, but he doubts it would matter to you. He can tell already that you’d say no. He can tell you’re scared, even if you don’t realise it yourself. “Is it getting worse?”

You can’t offer him anything else. He understands how that feels. There have been moments where he desperately wanted to tell someone, anyone, what was going on in his life, but he always holds his secrets like a perpetual ache in his throat. It’s like he can’t tell someone, even if they ask. 

Sometimes he just wishes they’d ask twice. 

“You can tell me. It won’t sound stupid,” he promises. He’s in some odd place between Agent Reid and young, terrified Spencer, determined to help you, but not sure how. “It’s getting worse, right?” 

“Yeah,” you say, the weight of tears on your tongue. 

“You’re a dancer. Is he just a boss– Does he… abuse you financially?” 

You laugh wetly. “He’s not my pimp.” 

He can feel his face heating up.’“No, but do you get paid on time? Everything you earn?” 

You shake your head. “No, I don’t get paid on time. He takes a percentage, and somehow there’s always another percentage, and then discipline. And now…” 

“Now he’s hitting you.” Very badly. 

“I’m not stupid.” 

Spencer frowns gently, talks softly, “I didn’t mean to imply that you were.” 

“No, I know, but I need you to know I’m not stupid. When we talked before, you– you’re so smart, I bet you know so many smart people.” 

He’s not sure where you’re going with this. Perhaps you don’t want to talk about being hurt anymore. It must be a kind of torture to be hurting and know that that hurting will come again. There isn’t an end in sight for you, just right now. 

“Can I buy you something to eat?” 

“I have money,” you say, taking your small purse from your pocket. There are a few notes wedged inside. 

“You can’t take painkillers on an empty stomach, and you should take painkillers again soon. You had some before you came, and they’re wearing off.” He meets your confused frown with a frown of his own. “Your hands are twitching like you want to move away from yourself.” 

“You’re very perceptive,” you say in that smooth murmur. Power clawed back, he thinks. You’re protecting one of the things you can control about how you’re seen when everything else is far from it. 

“I’m a profiler. Do you,” —he tries not to sound hoity toity— “know what that is?” 

“No.” 

“I’m an FBI agent.” You’re laughing as he takes out his badge. He joins you. “I know it sounds like I’m making it up.” Spencer offers you his identification passport slowly, so you know he isn’t wielding it around to be an asshole. “I’m in the behavioural analysis unit. We analyse the way people act. That’s why I know you’re in pain.” 

You take his badge, looking between his photo and his real face with a growing smile. “If you need all that to know I’m in pain, you’re not as smart as you think,” you tease, gesturing to the mottled skin of your bruise sweetly. 

Spencer buys you both cold sandwiches from the front of the shop and a drink to wash down your aspirin. It’s awkward, he guesses, but he’s used to that by now, and under it he can feel your palpable relief. You trust him to not hurt you, if nothing else, and he can work with that. 

[thedisablednaturalist]

I think what trips people up in the neurodivergent vs. physically disabled discourse is that you can't treat disabilities the same way as you treat LGBTQ+ identities. The goal for LGBTQ+ identities if for us all to one day be equal to cishet+ people. Someones gender identity or sexuality or race will not make them inherently more privileged or oppressed eventually. But with illnesses it's different.

I'm an ambulatory wheelchair user. I am disabled, but someone who is paralyzed is less privileged than me even though we both use wheelchairs and are disabled. For example, if I reach an area that is inaccessible, I can stand up and go around or remove the obstacle. It is not as easy for someone who is a full time wheelchair user. But we are still both disabled. Someone who has only ADHD and no physical disabilities is more privileged than someone with physical disabilities. Both people are disabled. However if the building is burning down, one person can take the stairs and escape and one person has to wait for rescue. And for the foreseeable future, unless there comes a day that prosthetics and medicine become so advanced there are no longer any negative aspects of disability (pain, illness, mobility, mental state), this will be the case.

And instead of trying to burst into the paraplegic support group and whine at them and throw a fit that they aren't talking about ME, I use my privilege to advocate for more accessibility in my town and at my college campus. Not that they aren't able to, but being able to mask my disability has put me in sort of a medium between abled people and the disabled community. I've been able to help so I do.

I am physically disabled, so I consider myself part of the cripplepunk community. I can do this because people look at me and label me as a cripple. People don't look at a mentally ill/neurodivergent person and do that. There are other descriptors used for neurodivergents if you would like to reclaim one of them.

Also, I consider myself neurodivergent as well. Some of you don't consider that people can be physically disabled AND neurodivergent. The barriers I faced with my neurodivergence and the barriers I faced with my physical disability are worlds apart. Both are challenging, but my physical disability has been harder. Does that mean I should ignore my neurodivergence? Does that mean neurodivergents should no longer be supported? Of course not! But in many cases, especially in modern times, mental health has made a ton of progress but it's left us physically disabled peeps behind. So please stop talking over physically disabled and chronically ill people and derailing the little support we get for yourselves. You aren't a cripple and you don't need to be one to be a part of the larger disabled community. You don't need to be a cripple to get support. In our society it's the opposite. We get left behind, ignored, our lives ripped from us. And yea, neurodivergents have this happen to them too but please understand that our pain has continued while neurodivergence is becoming more accepted.

I was able to get on meds so easily. I was screened for depression at my school. There were problems with this of course but they actually tried to seek out depressed kids and help them (even if it caused issues). Yes it costs money. Yes it may be harder outside of the states (or easier idk). But the same shit happens to us cripples as well and our mobility devices cost THOUSANDS out of pocket while meds cost hundreds at the most. My psychiatrist gave me a Zoloft prescription my first appointment and my rheumatologist laughed at me for wanting a walker.

We are tired and we are mad. We have a right to be angry at the mistreatment we've suffered. It's incredibly insulting to dismiss that pain. It's what our doctors do to us, our parents, our friends, our communities. Stop tearing us down to push yourselves further forward. If you truly want to get rid of any division in our community, help bring us up to your level instead of throwing a tantrum about the meanie cripples not letting you take our word that doesn't even fit you. It's insulting to want a word so bad that would never be thrown at you in the first place. It's like a cis binary queer person crying that they can't use the word tranny for themselves.

Please try to understand our pain and educate yourselves about history and experiences outside of your own diagnosis. Don't assume we have it easier because you see us. Most people don't.

[awlumii]

# — pairing: (barista)spidey!kazuha x gn!reader

# — characters: gender neutral reader, spider-man (kazuha), barista!kazuha (briefly), beidou, chongyun, barbara, shinobu (mentioned)

# — warnings: mentions of minor character death

# — summary: happy birthday, dear spider-man~ 🎶

# — tags: fluff, brief angst, hurt/comfort(-ish), yes there's kisses involved who do you think i am

# — notes: here it is! a birthday fic for my special boy on his special day 🥺 i took a couple hours out of yesterday to churn this one out, and i want to thank @the-travelling-witch @catcze @kazeyu and @kazu-sun for reading this ahead of time to both give me advice and boost my confidence! i love you guys vvv much and i couldn't have posted this without your help 💕 like always, reblogs and reactions are greatly appreciated, and i hope you enjoy!

wanna join the tag list?

✦ — 🕷 + 🍁 — ✦

Silence is a privilege. You learned this very early on. To be silent, to bask in the stillness of a room, is a privilege not often awarded to people like you. You’re an energizer; a people chaser. You seek chaos and the wreckage that comes with it all so you can find something to fix within it. People flee from crime scenes and accidents, but you invite them. Of course you have to be careful when taking pride in a fact like that -- it’s not like you want people to get hurt, but how else would you be able to pursue your passion?

From the time you were young, you sought to help others in their greatest times of need. You were the first to help an injured kid to their parents when they got hurt on the playground and the first to dial the paramedics during a freak accident; you were the first to drop some sneaky medical facts on your teachers in your high school biology courses and the first to volunteer to dissect something for your lab courses. “The Good Samaritan”, your peers called you. “Our school’s very own guardian angel.” So it came as a surprise to no one that you got a full ride scholarship to the best university in the city with acceptance into their competitive medical program. You dove headfirst into your studies immediately after your high school graduation in hopes of getting ahead of the program when orientation started.

It’s hard for you to say anything bad about the whole thing, really. But if you had to conjure up a single complaint, it’s that your field is so noisy. The beeping of the pagers, the crackle of overhead intercoms, the rushed medical jargon falling from fellow doctor’s lips like waterfalls, the groans and cries of agonized patients and distressed families. There’s no time for peace. You regret it at times -- being as wound up as you are 24/7 is bound to take a toll on your health one day -- but the pros outweigh the cons most of the time. Besides, you tell yourself, you’re not a resident just yet; you can have peace and quiet at home at the end of the day, right? Right.

As of late, however, you’ve been wrong. Peace and quiet is nothing but a dream to you now and it’s all thanks to the city’s “beloved” vigilante.

Standing at the taller end of five feet (he’ll never give you an exact number), Spider-Man has become the sole reason why you can only hope and pray to the powers that be for a night of pure silence. He doesn’t swing by every night (thank the stars), but he’s in your apartment, lying half-dead on your carpet on most days which is enough to make you want to start pulling out your hair. You’d think that a man with enough flesh wounds to kill a normal person twice over would be silent as he gets treated, but no, he somehow manages to weave bizarre topics out of thin air whenever he’s with you. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly smart, smarter than he likes to let on, and snarky, too. Sometimes, you want to take off the mask that he wears, ball it up, and shove it in his mouth.

..Oh, but who are you kidding? Annoying as he might be, you’ve got a thing for the man, even if you don’t know who he is. He’ll drop by during the daytime whenever he sees you alone and sometimes, he’ll even give you things that he picked up during his little patrols -- plushies from outside vendors, wildflowers from the park… Once, he gave you a freshly clipped rose from a florist that was doing handouts not too far from where you were seated. The truth is that you like him and sometimes, you wonder if he likes you, too. It’d be complicated thanks to your existing crush on the cute barista of the cafe that you frequent, but it’d be a nice change of pace.

(Ah, love. Yet another noisy thing that you’re not quite sure you want to actually let into your life.)

Speaking of a change of pace, tonight is a quiet one. You’re not quite sure if that’s a good thing yet. You’ve heard sirens in various spots around your apartment, but each one died down within twenty minutes. You took that as a sign that Spider-Man’s been swinging here and there, which means that he’s bound to drop by sometime soon. So, rather than let your guard down, you decided to stand on your balcony with a comfy sweater pulled over your head. The night air is crisp and cool, albeit a bit stuffy from all the cars zipping about. When you exhale, you can see your breath coming out in puffs of white smoke. It’s nice -- the chill keeps you alert.

You let your mind wander while you wait for your patient to arrive. Embarrassingly enough, the first thing your thoughts drift to is the barista that you saw this morning. Kazuha’s always so upbeat during the day, even more so when he sees you (a fact that does very little to quell the excited thrumming in your veins whenever you see his face). He looked a little more tired today than he does normally -- when asked if he was okay, he merely told you not to worry too much about him. You’d agreed so as to not overwhelm him, but that didn’t stop you from stealing glances the entire time you were there. He caught you at some point and gave you a wink -- just thinking about it sends your stomach aflutter. It would be terrible if something was wrong with him, you think. Would you be able to help him?

You don’t get to think about it much more as a figure sailing through the air catches your eye. Spider-Man is so easy to spot, even in the darkness above the streetlights. You tense, somewhat hoping he doesn’t spot you. If he doesn’t, you could maybe get around to fantasizing about Kazuha a little more. Unfortunately for you and your potential fantasies, he does; Spider-Man changes course right before your eyes and lands on your balcony railing. He doesn’t lose balance once, instead remaining in a steady crouching position with ease. He really is something to behold.

You stretch languidly, relishing in the way your bones pop. “Alright,” you say as you turn towards your balcony door, “where’s it hurt this time?”

To your surprise and immediate concern, Spider-Man doesn’t speak right away. He adjusts himself so that he’s sitting on your railing instead, with one leg pulled up to his chest and the other dangling towards the floor. “No injuries tonight, doc’.” He rests his cheek on his knee and turns his head to face you. “I just wanted to see you. Is that okay?”

If it were a few months prior, you would’ve said no. Now, the very thought of turning him away causes needles to press at your chest. You close your balcony door and head back over, resting your arms on the railing beside him. “Of course.”

Spider-Man must hear something in your voice that you don’t, because he shakes his head slightly. “You can say no, lovebug. I don’t want to bother you.”

“If you were bothering me, I would’ve told you to leave.” You frown at him. There’s negativity rolling off of him in waves. That’s not like him at all. “Are you okay?”

“I…” He reaches for the back of his neck before pausing. He lets his arm drop. Was he about to--? “I don’t know.”

You nudge him gently with your shoulder. Go on, you say silently. What’s up?

Spider-Man picks up on your invitation and sighs. “Do you… like your birthday, by any chance?”

“Me?” You tilt your head curiously. “I guess so. Why?”

“I guess I’m really not normal.” He turns his head, looking past you and into your apartment. “I don’t like mine at all.”

You connect the dots rather quickly. You’d feign excitement, but clearly, doing so would do nothing. If anything, it might make things awkward. “Is… today your birthday, Spider-Man?” When he nods, you make a small humming noise. “Would me saying ‘happy birthday’ cheer you up, or..?”

“If it’s you,” he says, his voice soft, “then yes, probably.” You don’t say it right away. You hesitate because of his tone, but he takes the opportunity to keep speaking. “I lost someone important to me a few years ago today.” He inhales sharply. “And a few more in the years prior. Today’s more of a day of mourning than anything else.”

Your heart shatters. You wonder if he knows how small he sounds. “I--”

“They say you shouldn’t spend your birthday alone,” he continues, “so I decided to stop by. You’re all I have left, lovebug.” You can hear the fake smile in his voice when he speaks again. “You’re going to have a hard time getting me off your back. Sorry.”

You don’t know what to say. The silence lingers and all that can be heard is the sound of cars rolling by on the street below. A car horn blares every so often at the light nearby, but you still remain quiet.

Is that why he always comes back? Because really and truly, he has no one else in his life? You can’t say the same for yourself -- you have Kazuha to keep your heart and mind occupied during your down time; you have Beidou, Hu Tao, and Chongyun to keep you busy at school; you have Barbara and Shinobu to keep you on your toes at work. You have friends, people to fall back on. But Spider-Man… doesn’t. And it’s not like you can just introduce him to your friends, either.

To think that you’ve been complaining about him when all he’s been doing is spending time with the only person who gives him the proper time of day.

The guilt that seizes you makes you hiss softly. What do you do now? You’ve had tender and serious moments with Spider-Man before, but this is too different. Do you apologize for being an asshole? What good would that even do? Do you make a gift for him on the spot? No; that might make him feel worse…

“I’m grateful for you.” Spider-Man’s voice cuts your thoughts short. “I really am. I’m sorry for dragging you into my mess. I hope you can forgive me.”

“If I… didn’t want to be involved,” you manage, “I would have told you to stay away a long time ago. Don’t apologize; I want to be by your side.”

Again, you hear a sharp intake of breath. “That’s--”

“Dangerous? Stupid? Yeah, I’m aware. But since I’ve never told you this out loud before, you’re my friend, Spider-Man.” You rest a hand on top of his without looking him in the eye. “Whether you knew that or not, we’re friends.” It feels weird to say, but you mean every word. Of course, friends don’t think about unmasking each other and kissing them every once in a while, but you’re not going to dwell on that. Your face starts to burn. “I wouldn’t want to be rid of you at all.” You say honestly.

Spider-Man moves his hand so that he’s holding yours. “...I appreciate it.” He says after a brief pause.

And once again, there is silence. It’s one that you can bask in, you find, especially when Spider-Man’s grip on your hand tightens. His presence is comforting, and only now do you realize that he thinks the same of you. The city marches on below your balcony, everyone encased in the same chilly autumn breeze that causes rigid goosebumps to rise on your skin. It’s nice, this silence. Is this the stillness that you’ve been missing out on because of Spider-Man? What are the odds that you’d finally be able to enjoy it with him?

You shudder and sneeze suddenly, shocking the both of you. Spider-Man jolts but eases into a laugh. “Are you cold?” He asks.

You sniff and tug the hood of your sweater up over your head. “No,” you grumble. “You’re cold. I’m just peachy.”

Spider-Man hops down and leads you inside, his fingers still intertwined with yours. “You’re a horrible liar,” he jokes. Once you’re inside, he stands in the threshold and laughs again. “You’re shaking.”

“Why couldn’t your birthday be during the summer or something?” You whine and make yourself small in your sweater. “It’s fucking cold outside.”

“What can I say, I like the fall more.”

“Whatever.” You ball your hands into fists inside your sweater pockets. “You’re not coming inside?”

Spider-Man shakes his head. “Something could still happen. I’m going to head back out.”

An idea comes to mind. It’s a stupid idea, a really, really, really stupid idea, but it's an idea nonetheless. You don't have much in the way of material goods to give him -- it'd be a cold day in hell before you coughed up one of your expensive medical supplies (as if he had any use for those with his speedy healing) -- and despite knowing him for as long as you have, he has yet to give any real hints as to what it is he likes. When you think about it, you realize that Spider-Man's been super careful as to not give you any kind of clues as to what kind of person he is without the mask. All of his likes and dislikes are a complete mystery to you, unfortunately.

Well, almost all of them. He's told you time and time again that he likes this one thing — one person.

“B-Before you do,” you stammer, “what’re your thoughts on birthday gifts?”

You can practically feel the confused look he gives you. “Why?”

Rather than let the embarrassment consume you, you let your body move on its own accord. You walk closer to him and place your hands on either side of his face. “Stay still.” You whisper. Without waiting for his question, you lean forward and place a kiss on his lips right over his mask. You can feel them just beneath the cloth and hear the noise of surprise that he makes, but you don’t let it stop you. You stay there for just a moment longer before pulling away. Your face heats up to an impossible degree and you keep your head turned away to avoid further humiliation. Spider-Man is completely quiet, likely with shock, and it makes you want to bury your head in a hole. He's told you before how much he likes you; even if he was joking, he's said it too many times for you to consider it as just a joke. A kiss should suffice as a gift, right? “Happy birthday," you mutter. “Now go--”

Before you finish speaking, a gloved hand comes over your eyes. You start to question what the hell he’s doing, but a pair of uncovered lips cover your own, silencing your protests. You melt into the kiss after a brief moment of shock and Spider-Man pulls you in closer with his free hand. Closer, closer, and closer still. He kisses you like you're something gentle, fragile, prone to break at any moment. And yet he tilts his head and nips at your bottom lip, kissing you deeply, like you mean something to him.

Friends don't kiss like this.

You can’t think. You can’t move. It’s just you and your masked vigilante and the sound of sirens outside.

The sound is what causes Spider-Man to pull away after a while. He doesn’t uncover your eyes right away and you hear fabric moving -- likely him fixing his mask. When he moves his hand, your vision feels hazy and your throat tight. You stand there in limbo, the two of you just staring at each other. You tug on the strings of your hoodie gently. “You should, um… you should get going.”

You wonder how he’s looking at you right now. Spider-Man clears his throat. “I… Yeah. You’re right.” He starts to reach for you, but he drops his hand and balls it into a fist by his side. “Will I… see you tomorrow?”

It’s a hesitant question -- a request, if not anything else. Am I allowed to see you tomorrow? You nod without hesitation. Who are you to refuse him? “Yeah.”

Spider-Man’s shoulders drop with relief. “Okay. Then…” He walks backwards onto your balcony and raises two fingers in his usual salute. “...Thank you for the birthday gift.” And with a push backwards, he tumbles off of your balcony and zips into the biting autumn night, leaving you in your living room.

You walk forward and close the door to your balcony. You turn your eyes to the clock on the wall. 12:00 AM, it reads. It’s October 30th. Your kiss was the last and only gift he'd received yesterday.

✦ happy happy happy birthday, kazuha.. i hope he enjoys his day with his new family 🥺💕💗

✦ i'll make an origins post about spidey!kazuha someday, hehe

[al-andrice]

Future Days

Spoilers for TLOU PART I & II

Series: Hymn for the Weekend

Joel Miller x Female Reader

(Edited on 12/06/23)

Abstract: Joel and Ellie settle into Jackson with the help from you - a great shot, smart and reliable (according to Maria).

Contents: Reader has she/her pronouns, former counsellor, second person, Ellie's got jokes, maybe a little teeny bit of pining but we like a friends to lovers in this household, Joel smiles!

Rating: Teen

WC: 1.6K

Listen to Future Days by Joel Miller

Author's notes: Here I am, back with the writing bug. It's been a long time since I've wanted to write something. As TLOU has dominated my whole life with the games that I've loved for years and the HBO series, it's no surprise that I have a whole fantasy in my head that I needed to write fanfiction about.

Hope you guys enjoy reading this! Please do comment and reblog, anything that helps to get this around.

Troy singing Future Days always gets me in the feels. If Pedro ends up singing...I am DONE (unless he sings La Bamba LMAO). Or if Bella sings Take On Me...TEARS. I love listening to the Part II covers.

not to be thirsty on here, but praise naughty dog for making joel miller so...mmmm yeah. i wanna marry this man. even pedro says he's hot

GIF by vera-kozhemiakina

Everything I've found here, I've not found by myself.

Winter was coming which meant heavy snow and slower starts to days with the later sunrise and the numbing morning air. Jackson had started preparations for it - checking that its residents had everything to keep warm in their homes, protecting the allotments and making any repairs to maintain buildings.

Sweeping through the long patrol routes was the biggest task. Maria had to be sure that the people assigned to them could handle potential Infected and any people they may meet on the way. Past encounters have mostly gone smoothly, with trading links made between communities, like Jackson, and also helping any travellers who just needed a good night of sleep and food in their system, setting off the next morning. This was something that the residents of Jackson were incredibly grateful for - to be able to say that they were safe and had warm beds to greet every night, as well as being able to provide aid and supplies to people who come through was a privilege.

The few not-so-pleasant meetings with bandits ended with minor injuries and increased security at the power plant as a precaution.

Joel and Ellie settled in as well as they could after the hell of a journey they completed. You lived a road away from their new home, so you had seen them integrate into the community and get used to living instead of surviving.

Maria was the one responsible for your first interaction with Joel, who was getting to know the different patrol routes on the map. "She's one of our best. A great shot, smart, reliable. Expect to be on patrol with her if Tommy isn't around. She's a busy woman in this town."

"Wow." You leaned forward onto the desk of her office with your hands. "A great shot, smart and reliable? You flatter me, Maria," you joked with a smirk on your face.

That was the first time you had seen Joel Miller smile. Even if it may have been a small one.

In the few months since the older Miller brother and the 14 year-old had arrived, you've had the opportunity to introduce (and re-introduce to the man) the different parts of the town to them.

"Woah, you have art classes? FEDRA school was never like this." Ellie wandered around the empty classroom that was decorated with paintings and drawings made by the young Jackson residents. Her fingers trailed along the row of paintbrushes and stained palettes.

"If you want, we can enrol you in some of the classes? I know you said that you wanted to take up patrols, but you're still young. We've even got Spanish. Try bilingualism to stimulate that brain of yours," you suggested.

You would never forget the way she looked up to you with widened eyes and an excited smile. "Really?" You nodded. "Didn't you say you teach a class, too? Maybe I could join yours as well?"

You sat on a desk with a warmed heart for the kid who wanted to go to school and learn. "I teach some psychology. Not that it means anything now, but there was blood, sweat and tears working for my PhD and training, so I might as well put it to good use to fill in the time and help anyone who wants it."

"What's a PhD?" Ellie asked in confusion.

You chuckled to yourself and started to explain. "It's basically a way to get people to call you Doctor."

Then, Ellie took her chance.

"Why is a doctor always calm?" She asked with her legs swinging back and forth under the table she was sitting on. 

You shrugged.

A smirk found its way to her lips. "Because they have a lot of patients."

Joel was standing a few feet away from the door, taking in the sounds of laughter before calling out for the jokester.

-

Your house was one of the smaller ones on your road; just enough for one person. I'm just lucky to even have a home. Only a short walk away from Joel and Ellie's, you hugged a small pile of books to your chest and with a bag hung from your shoulder, dressed in a well-worn pair of jeans and a thick jumper.

The house came into view at the end of the street. It was not unusual to find yourself walking up the steps to their front door to bring Ellie some things that you thought she might like.

Taking a deep breath, you knocked. Footsteps thumped through the door, the locks were undone and the man of the house greeted you. "Hey." He widened the opening as an invite into the home. "Lookin' for Ellie, Santa Claus?" He eyed the the books and the bag you were holding.

"I am, yes." You stepped inside and pushed the door closed with your shoulder. "As you can see, she's made it onto the nice list and is owed a lot of presents." He started to lead you through the hallway and the kitchen where the backdoor led to the garden where Ellie lived in her converted garage.

"Know anything 'bout me being on that list?" He sent a teasing grin over his shoulder and stepped out into the grassy area.

(That was a loaded question.)

"Oh, Joel Miller, wouldn't you like to know? Too impatient to wait for December, are we?" An eyebrow raised at him.

"No, I'm patient." Just as he was about to call Ellie's name, he faced you. "When I need to be."

-

"Woah!" Ellie inspected the orange glowing lamp in her hands. "It looks kind of like a rocket."

"Yeah, that's why I brought it over. Thought you'd like it," you said while she made rocket launching sounds and waved it around. "And to go with your journey to the stars," you placed the books on her coffee table, "these are photos from the NASA Archive."

Her eyes widened and she instantly started to flick through the pages without another word except 'look' when she tilted the pages towards you, completely mesmerised by what had been discovered.

Joel, who was sitting on the couch beside you, hadn't said anything since you showed her the lava lamp. Looking over your shoulder, you glanced at him. Shoulders and eyebrows relaxed, no tension shown.

He looked...content, as if he just had a day off work and stayed at home.

Then, his eyes met yours. A small smile of gratitude was sent to you before you both went back to watching Ellie get excited at all her new gifts.

This is what I saved her for.

-

When you and Joel finally left Ellie's garage, the sun was setting which left a warm filter on everything within its reach. She was left marvelling over her newly acquired 'space hub' as she called it - a new poster of Neil Armstrong on her wall, a collection of books that were not in the FEDRA school library and an 'alien spaceship' as a lamp.

"Thank you for doing this for her." His hands were stuffed in his pockets while the two of you stood by the gate that you would eventually walk out of to go home. "You didn't have to. Here, she gets to be a kid an’-"

"I know, and I wanted to." Letting out an exhale, you decided to just lay everything out. "Look, Ellie's so young and has been through so much shit. Definitely more than what we experienced her age. Death and survivor's guilt come by so easily now, and I do what I can to help people cope with it whenever they ask." Joel dipped his head down and leaned his elbow on the wooden fence. "But the children here don't have to face those things because we keep them safe and we have a responsibility to teach them how to be. I like her happy and I also like seeing you happy for her, Joel."

The next thing he knew, he felt your hand's light squeeze on his forearm. "It's a good look on you." Just before you pulled back, he patted and laid his hand on yours (maybe for a second longer than he intended), squeezing back.

"Thank you."

"You say that a lot. Might have to start collecting money from you." He laughed and shook his head.

"Tell me how much and I'll pay it. 'M feeling generous today," he went on. A few seconds of silence fell. "I don't want to keep you out for too long. I'm sure you want to get home soon." He stood up, preparing to unlock the gate for you.

"Yeah." Bringing down the bag from your shoulder, you reached to the bottom and extended the package to him. "I actually did get you something, though." He took it, unwrapping the paper. Guitar strings. "My attic had a load of junk when I moved in and there was some music stuff there, too. I remember Tommy telling me stories of him and his big brother going to see live music-"

"And we'd mess around on the guitars at the end of the shows," he finished. "I haven't touched one since then." His eyes stayed locked on the bag of strings between his fingers.

"I'm pretty sure they have a few in the old music shop." Taking small steps to the gate, Joel followed. "I put all the treasure from my attic in the back room. Go raid it sometime."

"I will," he replied. You both stopped and you turned to him, with a soft grin. "Again, thank you."

You sighed at that. "You're welcome." A few steps out, you faced him. "Again."

Quick shots of his breath lightly hit your face and you looked up at him. "Sun’s setting now, Joel, so I think that’s my cue to get home.”  

He nodded. “See you tomorrow, then.”

“See you tomorrow, Joel.” 

Unknown to you and the man, who stayed by the gate until you turned the corner, there was a curious set of eyes peeking through the curtains of their little converted garage. 

-

A/N: what did you guys think of this?? tell me if there are any mistakes like spelling, grammar, switching tenses bc i didn't read it properly, etc.

this is the lava lamp that was gifted to Ellie if you just zoom in...

and he got guitar strings from santa!!!! since joel will eventually make his own gee-tars, he can have some strings that may hold sentimental value later.

i am planning to write more on this timeline, but work is piling. it'll be a while before i can really build on hymn for the weekend

[khickuwa]

My thoughts on “A Dream of Benji” - Luke’s Fluffy Fuzzy Time Card

so I had the privilege (or the misfortune, depends on how you’d view it lmao /lh) of getting and reading Luke’s new FFT card. I haven't seen anyone talking about it yet, and I have many thoughts about it so.... To anyone who hasn’t read it yet, beware I’ll be discussing spoilers (come back when you’ve read it please I promise you you won’t regret it) and as everyone else probably mention it’s probably best to read this after the FFT event (or at least after completing Benji’s route) 

BUT I MUST SAY, this card has surprisingly became one of my favorite Luke cards (in  terms of the art as well I mean look at THEM(tm) LAYING DOWN IN A MEADOW OF FLOWER... MISS ROSA LOOKS SO ESPECIALLY PRETTY HERE LIKE) right up there with Luke’s 1st anniversary card “Under the Milky Way” and Luke’s “Shape of You” card. I know everyone is probably saving up for the second anniversary (I really need to save up to I haven’t been playing as much last month) but if you do have the s-chips to get the card like... *grabs you in a chokehold* it’s so good. I promise you it’s really worth it.

Though disclaimer!  These are just my thoughts (I’ve been up all night thinking about a virtual dog... Please I Am Not Okay) feel free to disagree! I’ll be discussing about character death and Luke’s illness, so if you ain’t good with that feel free to skip this!

Okay, moving on.

Hoyoverse. What the actual fuck. (YOU THOUGHT IT WAS GOING TO BE A CUTE CARD? CUTE EVENT? TAKING CARE OF VIRTUAL ANIMALS?  A FLUFFY FUZZY FUN TIME!?!? WRONG. ABSOLUTELY WRONG.) This whole card was so incredibly devastating and yet it’s so hopeful at the same time. They really hammered in the idea of “inevitability” and “hopeful anticipation”  irt actualbird's journal of NXX Investigation Team Behavioral Studies. To me at least, this card is like everything that makes Luke... Luke... condensed into a card.

About Benji  (you sweet sweet boy):

Immediately right in the first story, Benji is admitted into hospital and it’s very much obvious that... Benji, a retired 9-year old military dog, doesn’t have much time left.

Benji, obviously, is very much a parallel to Luke Pearce... As I was reading the card, Benji’s situation almost feels like a peek into of what could be Luke’s Future... what could become of Luke. Once great and majestic dog plowing through a vast field of snow, saving hostages along side other agent... now so frail, the wear and tear of old injuries, old age and illness is finally getting to Benji. 

...and in Luke’s own words: “Is he still the same Benji from my memories.”

Luke and Rosa decides to take Benji into a dog park, where they hope to give Benji some sort of “freedom”... for Benji to finally some semblance of living life as a normal dog. It still had to be catered in a way that was familiar to Benji... and this is sort of scattered around through out between the event stories and the card. eg. making custom training dumbbells, planning training regiments, recreating a hostage situation. Even when Benji is retired, he's still yearning to go back... eg looking back to the direction of military base. Because in the end of the day, that’s all Benji Knows. His Whole Life has Always Been a Mission to Benji.

Then Mr. Henderson, a man in the dog park who's also grieving about his late dog, who's also a retired military dog. And while Luke was able to open up to this man, as both have/are going through the same grief. But MAN did that interaction cause Luke to spiral downwards.

Even in what I would say Benji’s last moments with Luke and Rosa, the way that Luke had to dismiss Benji of his “duty” this way. (I’m not okay, I’m not okay, THIS DIALOGUE WRECKED ME)

About Luke (ah here we go again):

After being subsequently punched multiple times in the face by “LOOK BENJI/LUKE PARALLELS, LOOK AT IT. LOOK AT IT!!!”

As I’m going “NO BENJI UWAH QAQ” every second through this card... I also can’t help but fear for Luke. It really made me think that... let’s say even if NSB drops Luke the moment he was diagnosed with the illness and three years left to live, I really do wonder if he would’ve been able to cope with it... or otherwise live with himself? 

Luke as we know it, has this whole self deprecating deal of avoiding and hesitating happiness. The way I see it, he often times try to make himself seem "small" in a way, that he prioritizes other people's needs first before his own. And I would imagine the last thing he'd want for himself is to become a burden/useless. If one day Luke does retire from NSB, one would think that he'd be free... but not really either. I can imagine him being sort of like "what now?" (i can sort imagine luke entering this phase of adjusting back to normal life when he's back in Stellis. this brings me to the headcanon of luke's... questionable lifestyle is a product of Luke having to readjust to normal life /i’m sorry i made fun of your kitchen and my boy, you probably had to make do what with what you had.)

If think about Luke lying in a hospital bed, nearing the end of his life. I'm Going To Lose It (tm). But looking at Benji all old and sickly... I really can’t help imagine that IF it were to happen, it would probably go down the same way it did for Benji. (I Am Going To Cry)

Anyways, after the conversation with Mr. Henderson, Luke spirals down into thoughts of "if I didn't left you, would things have been different?", “we could’ve been happier, if only I had made the “right” choice. (and I wanna grab him by the shoulders and then scream at him “LUKE STOP BAD >:C”)

About Rosa (YOU GO GIRL SLAY):

NOW, HONESTLY. ROSA REALLY DO SHINE IN THIS CARD. HER RESPONSE TO BENJI. HER RESPONSE TO HER SAD LITTLE BOYFRIEND GRIEFING AN SPIRALING DOWN. THIS IS WHY SHE IS THE MC(TM) AAA

but more than that, this card somehow not only showcase her strengths but also how this somehow becomes a weakness as well (at least to me). 

Rosa to me, comes off someone who really looks on straight ahead and her focus on what she can do in the present, in contrast to Luke’s tendency to focus on past regrets and uncertain tomorrows. I would argue that she also has this like- perseverance/stubbornness against adversities and I would say that her solutions also come off as very head on?. (could you imagine having to argue with your lawyer girlfriend, like nah... you ain’t winning for sure.)

(”But that’s for dogs” I’m laughing through TEARS OMG - Luke is Dog-Coded FR) But Rosa in here is really ain’t letting Luke go, forcing Luke to Actually Look into her Eyes and tell her What’s Wrong. (LukeRosa nose booping omg...this is how they comfort each other in my head from now on) Which yes, sometimes I think Luke does need someone who can hold him back before he retreats, but also at the same time... after this exchange, Rosa realizes that it’s not really quite enough to erase his worries. And I think this is also the exact moment Rosa realizes that not all problems could be solved immediately... sometimes you have to let time do its thing and just.. sit with it. 

(Rosa calling in an animal psychologist... like did she just searched on up in the internet for consultation like pls Rosa) In Story 5 (I’d put in every screenshot from this part if I could), we go on the Benji’s “rescue mission”, I kinda enjoyed how Rosa does fumble a bit here and there... though with good intentions, perhaps the overly familiar environment was over-stimulating to Benji? which caused him to attack Luke somehow... But anyways... It seems that Benji still thinks that he’s on service and it’s not when Luke “dismissed” him of his “duties does Benji stop and Luke, just so full of grief, wondering why Benji couldn’t just forget the past. And Rosa really isn’t holding back with her words when she says:

“Why does Benji have to forget the past?” “

Have you ever thought that perhaps Benji is proud of himself for being a military dog?” 

“You said before if Benji wasn’t a military dog, he could probably lead a happier life.”

“But Luke, you and I are not Benji, We can never understand Benji’s true feelings.”

“And we can’t just make wild guesses about whether Benji would have ended in a better situation if he had made a different choice...

“Because it will never happen”

Because it will never happen....

MISS ROSA I-

“But how are you sure a “perfect and flawless” choice exists in this world”

“Luke, are you sure that if one makes a different choice, one’s ending will be better?”

I just really love Rosa for this because she just so... incredibly focused in the present and taking one’s autonomy. And this is probably so reassuring to Luke (and to me) cause she’s basically saying “regardless of what happens, we will be fine.” 

And I don’t think Rosa has ever blamed Luke for leaving, for having a dangerous job, nor for getting diagnosed with only 3-years left to live. SHE JUST LOVES HIM SO MUCH OUEUEUEUEUOOO!!! Even. EVEN. if Luke’s condition does turn for the worse, I really do think that Luke is in very VERY capable hands. AND THAT’S SO REASSURING TO ME? As much as I Really Don’t Want Luke to Die (Please Find A Cure For Him), but just the thought that Rosa is going to be there for him (just as he will be there for her) regardless of whatever happens to the both of them, it will always be the “best ending”.

I’m just so happy that Rosa’s answer to Benji’s case is really just to ensure that Benji lives the last few days of his life... happy. and IT’S SUCH A ROSA ANSWER PLS... Even with Luke as well, even with knowing all the risks of staying with Luke, she’d rather make the most out of the remaining time they have. But even so, she’s still so full of hope! “As long as we’re not at the end of the path, there’ll be boundless possibilities” 

Luke is the Definition of Devotion, BUT CAN WE TALK ABOUT ROSA? It’s so subtle, but I really can’t deny that Rosa does really really really love Luke too, in a way that she’s going to be there for him... for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until parted by death. (HOLDS THEM BOTH IN THE PALM OF MY HANDS UUUUUOEOEOOEOE)

When Benji finally passes away peacefully in a quiet afternoon, with Luke and Rosa at his side, I really do think that this is the best ending for him. RIP Benji, you were the goodest boy. 

[hmshermitcraft]

for this weeks prompt! some impulse x grian (i am sorry i started writing and couldn’t stop)

Grian loved being a graphics teacher. He loved seeing all of his students excited faces and seeing how eager they were to learn when being taught something creative. Even those that didn’t really want to go into graphics enjoyed the freedom Grian gave them and that he allowed students to catch up on work in other classes if they weren’t planning to take graphics in the future.

What Grian didn’t like were other teachers. Sure, most were nice enough but very few enjoyed teaching as much as him. So, he stayed within his department mostly. Scar and Pearl were always just as passionate about their lessons as he was.

But sometimes, neither of them are in (that’s the issue with them both living together.) So, Grian usually has to pray the replacement teachers are able to keep the classes in check, as well as running around between all three classes that day.

He is just setting up in his classroom when a pair of men walks in, both a fair bit taller than him. The first one he locks eyes on is, “Mumbo!”

“Hi Grian! Impulse and I are gonna be taking over Scar and Pearl’s classes today.”

Grian turned to look at the other, larger man and felt his face heat up. “Oh… hiiii Impulse.”

“Sup dude! Yeah, I mean, our classes are all on field trips today with the other science staff plus we both have some kind of graphics knowledge from college so we figured we’d be most helpful. Is that ok?”

“Ofcourse it is.” Grian tried not to melt into a puddle. Sure, he didn’t interact with many non art teachers but the one of the ones he did see a lot out of work was Impulse. He was friends with Pearl (and Grian’s best friend Mumbo) so he was often with them for drinks or shopping days and well… Maybe Grian had developed a little crush on the man. Nothing major, just that he was a nice sight. With a kind voice and an amazing beard and being only a little taller than Grian, he just thought he was quite attractive, especially when he would go on little tangents about engineering and science.

The three of them sat around Grian’s desk as he began explaining what the classes had been up to and the lesson plans for the day. “Hm… you know what, my first class is one for older students and Scar and Pearl don’t share it… Maybe you two could stay here and get used to things and help out some students if you’re able to?”

“That’s an amazing idea, Grian!”

To say Grian went weak under Impulse’s praise would be an understatement. However, he had a class to teach.

Watching Grian teach felt like a privilege to Impulse. Grian, who in his mind was quiet and easily flustered and who maybe didn’t like Impulse all too much, was so confident when he taught. His class were like a well oiled machine and seemed just as hooked on Grian’s every word as Impulse felt.

As the class began to work, Grian immediately began making his way around the classroom, giving some students who were already struggling help and having lively conversations with others. Impulse began observing some of the students’ work, complimenting them all until he heard Grian’s voice. “Impulse, come over here, I need to show you something!”

Like a lapdog, Impulse immediately made his way over to Grian, “Yeah, G?”

“Look at this student’s work. Isn’t it incredible?” Grian began to show Impulse some of this student’s work, including some graphics he’d made for each school department.

“Wow, these are amazing and really inspired. I love the bright colours you use as well. Welldone.” Impulse could see the student’s eyes light up, as well as Grian’s

The day ran smoothly, most of the lessons were well behaved, especially with Grian poking his head in to check. At the end of the day, Impulse came into Grian’s classroom. “Hey, G… uh I was wondering if you still rode your bike?”

“Huh… oh yes I do.” Grian was busy packing away some work to mark, ending up with two full bags and his arms totally full as well. “I was gonna get the bus today though.”

“Why don’t I drive you? I uh I have a van so you can easily put your bike in and it would avoid and student work getting damaged… plus the forecast says it’s gonna rain.”

“Really? Thank you so much.”

Impulse took the sheets of work from Grian’s hands to help him out and the pair walked out to the car park. Impulse put Grian’s bags and papers into a large plastic box just to avoid them receiving any extra damage while the other got his bike from the shed.

“You play the drums?”

“Yeah, some of the engineering and science department people get together and play… it’s just for fun but it’s really fun.”

“Well, I’d love to hear it some time… Uh, sorry, let me just..” Grian hoisted his bike inside and rested it on the floor beside its lock.

The pair got in their seats and Impulse began to drive, some random music playing from the radio. Grian rested his head against the window, watching as the rain began.

“Hey G, um… do you not like me?”

“Huh?” Grian turned to Impulse, looking horrified. “No! Not at all.”

“Oh… it’s just that you always seem uh not very talkative around me and you always avoid me when we hang out in groups… do you not like me hanging out with you?”

“No I- Oh gosh, this is embarrassing…” Grian sighed and stared straight ahead at the road. “I might have a bit of a crush on you.”

“Oh… that’s cool.”

The pair then burst into laughter.

“Cool!? Impulse who responds to someone having a crush on them with cool?”

“I don’t know! I thought you were too cool to like me!”

“Oh my gosh…”

The pair calmed down now, the air in the van a lot more relaxed. As they pulled up outside of Grian’s, Impulse cleared his throat.

“Would you like to go out for drinks soon? Just the two of us…”

“Like a date?” Grian asked hopefully.

“Yeah, uh if you want.”

“I’d love to.”

Grian's students totally don't notice Impulse hanging around the art department more often nowadays. And no, he totally doesn't bring Grian a snack, and Grian totally doesn't find flowers on his desk.

Mumbo, Scar and Pearl also love taking responsibility for getting the couple together, despite contributing absolutely nothing. It's their right!

[storkmuffin]

I wanted to share a little of my perspective on John Silver. I am by no means a Silver stan and honestly, I didn’t really care for him either way (hate him or love him) in my first watch. Through my second (I’m now on both a third and fourth watch simultaneously, it’s complicated) watch, my feelings towards him changed somewhat. He’s still not one of my favourite characters, and by no means does he even compare to Flint in my mind, but I really think painting him as entirely bad is an oversimplification of his character.

Black Sails is, at its core, a show about incredibly complicated characters, all of whom have been through hell, and who are coping with their trauma in different ways. We never get Silver’s backstory which, to be fair, I was also mad about, but we do get hints at it. We know that he started off as a member of a merchant crew, and not a high ranking one which, at the very least, implies that he was not from a privileged background and likely never had any stable employment or family support (those who did were rarely enlisted into these merchant crews). The interpretation of the few bits of insight we do get into his childhood that I favour the most are the ones that suggest that him stating that all his backstory taught him was that the world was a place of unspeakable horrors (or something similar, I can’t remember or find the exact quote) is true—that so much of what we see him do is an effort to distance himself as much as possible from some trauma that he cannot bring himself to think about or disclose to anyone, first by doing everything he can to remain as independent as possible, then by making himself as necessary as possible. He cannot reveal what has happened for fear that speaking of it will make it more real, and possibly even bring its effects back into his life. It sure as hell isn’t a healthy coping mechanism and it definitely hurts those around him, but the same is true for so many of the other characters. Flint, in season one, kills Gates to continue his war against civilisation, one that hasn’t even started, because Gates calls him out on his recklessness (and was right, the battle that Flint killed Gates in the hopes of continuing ended with the Walrus wrecked and the crew decimated and stranded), but, in that moment, the audience feels for Flint, even though we don’t yet know why he’s so dedicated to doing what he’s doing, because, even as he’s killing possibly one of the most “good” characters, we feel sorry for him.

Silver’s backstory is one rooted in loneliness and pain. He starts with being unable to trust anyone then, as he starts to bond with the crew, they start to die off alarmingly quickly. Even in season two, he becomes important to the crew and vice versa, and this process is accelerated by the loss of his leg. I think this acceleration is also worth noting, as it puts him in a place of dependence before he would have been comfortable to do so, before he has learned that he can be vulnerable with someone and they won’t necessarily immediately hurt him. His refusal to allow his leg to heal properly and to let people help him stems from this wariness of vulnerability. Sure, it’s not a healthy attitude, and it does hurt other people, but, especially given the general attitudes towards disability at the time, I can at least understand it. In the eyes of his society, and, therefore, in the eyes of John Silver, disability = vulnerability = weakness = letting others hurt you, so he becomes consumed by the goal of making sure he seems as strong as possible. There’s also a heavy dose of toxic masculinity mixed in here, but, again, as I see it, it’s an understandable (if not excusable) result of what he’s experienced so far. The only physically disabled character we see before Silver is Randall, who is nearly kicked off the crew and then killed (without being able to raise any kind of alarm or defend himself), which certainly isn’t a comfortable frame of reference for someone who has also now lost their leg.

Moving on to Silver’s position in the revolution, I think a lot of my interpretation of his role comes from knowing that Madi & Flint’s mission cannot succeed. Black Sails is, in many ways, quite intricately and accurately tied into the historical context of the time and, the fact is, that the golden age of piracy ended, slavery continued, the empire won out (at least for the next few centuries), and the prejudices that they were trying to fight continued.  By the historical context that is set in stone, Flint and Madi’s revolution could not have succeeded and, honestly, Black Sails shows this. Their ideas were good, as were their tactics, but they had no widespread support. Any support for Nassau had to come at the cost of the end of the revolution, and they had none of the numbers, weapons, money, ships, land, public support, or really anything that would have let them succeed. It’s a good fight, and that’s what hurts the most, because we as the audience want them to succeed but know that, historically, and even within the context of the show, they cannot. Silver sees this, and it definitely isn’t a good look being the only major character in that trio resisting this revolution, but he knows, as we must also know, that it is doomed to fail. He is not stopping it because he doesn’t care for the cause, he is stopping it because he knows that the sooner he stops it, the less likely it is that he will lose someone he cares about, has he has already done with countless members of the crew. He knows in stopping it that he will probably lose Madi, but he does it anyway, because he sees that, whether she lives, dies for nothing, or dies and becomes a martyr, the revolution will fail, and all that will be different is that she and countless others will have died. Again, this level of pragmatism does not look good on him, but between the dreams of Flint and Madi and the sacrifices they will make to try to attain the unattainable, it is incredibly necessary.

Honestly, I can’t fully argue this case without your knowledge of the last part of 4.10. It isn’t a tragedy; it isn’t just filled with a sense that it was all for nothing. At the bare minimum, there are some very cool Max moments. Please, even if you have to skip through all the Silver scenes, watch to the end.

Sorry for the essay :)

posting bc I'm very honored that you chose to write this in response to my unhinged ranting!

I don't have the spoons for a proper response and this deserves one so I will hopefully be able to write something coherent in response sometime soon. I didn't want to just leave this hanging!

[thisisthinprivilege]

thin priviege in rave/festival/EDM culture

I have always loved raves and music festivals since I was an early teenager (I'm 23 now).  Since I've been 18 I have been able to travel around to different festivals like Ultra, Zoo, Cochella, Bonnaroo, etc. And because I live in Vegas I have been able to attend some of the most elite clubs where internationally famous DJs have played. In many ways I am aware of how incredibly lucky I am to have the economic privilege to do all of these things thanks to my very supportive parents (they were hippies and enjoyed quite a few festivals in their day I'm guessing).

But instead, I want to talk about thin privilege at these events. The events themselves have become incredibly fashion conscious these last few years. People plan their outfits far far ahead of time and put so much thought into them. Which is great to some degree. But for me it is incredibly frustrating.  My thin friends that I go with were tiny shorts and skirts, wear body paint and next to nothing.  I am far from slut shaming them, I encourage them and help them plan outfits. I am happy for them. They are often asked by event photographers to take pictures.Their instagram photos get 100s of likes, DJs invite them in stage to dance.  They look great and everyone compliments them. It seems that dressing up is part of the fun for them. It is pretty much expected that you'll look good at the events, instead of actually enjoying the music. Not to mention the amount of people, that wear fat shaming clothing items that say things like "no fat chicks" and or "body by god and iron". As if being thin is all about being blessed by god and working out, not simply just genetics.  Thin girls wear shorts that say bootyful and get applauded and agreed with, not laughed hysterically at.

But then there is me. I am 5'6 and about 278. I have trouble in a size 24, usually the largest size available in places to do have larger sizes in my area. I feel often as I am somewhere between small fat and just simply fat. I know I don't have it to the worst, but growing up in  where literally everyone is hot and thin, I often feel much larger than I am, and I am usually the fattest person in the room, and I am then treated the worst because of it. As you guys and FBP have mentioned, fat shaming is usually relative, which I can 100% attest to. I only realize that I am not alone when I visit other cities where people are my size or larger.

I cannot ever find festival clothes that will fit my body and look good on me. The best I can do is usually wear leggings or tights with large men's hunting tops (those bright yellow/green/orange tshirts) and try and repurpose them to have ties, holes, etc. I've become really good at it (at least, I think so) and no one ever notices. I put just as much into my outfits and yet I never get noticed. I was even asked to step out of a picture because all my friends had on matching clothes that I couldn't fit into and therefore couldn't wear. I had to go as the fat friend on the side.

When I'm not going unnoticed, the stares i get are always out of disgust. People cannot fathom why a fat girl would bother with one of these events. Apparently only thin people in cute outfits can like EDM.

I just wish that the attention could go back to the music and happy community vibes and not the fashion of thin people.

[fizzigigsimmer]

Modern Au or Na?

I have been doing research on dance conservatory schools and ballet culture in the 80s & 90s for the Harringrove Ballet!Au. I was hoping it would help me decide between the two decades but I think I'm more torn than ever on what time period to set this fic in.

On the one hand, there's so much opportunity for modern dancers and social media has really changed the artform, making it more accessible, making space for smaller companies while centralizing the health and well being of the dancers. And I love love LOVE that (for the most part) dancers today feel free to be out and proud to their audience, even if there are still many walls to take down when it comes to queer visibility on stage. I can really see Billy (as well as Steve) flourishing in this setting. Struggling in that "don't ask don't tell" era of the closeted 90s, learning to embrace himself as a student and going on to have this dynamic and colorful career as an adult in the 2000s where he can express himself unapologeticly through his choreography, and be a part of what was pioneering a new era of queer visibility in dance.

And even if the dance world is not as elitist or as "cut throat" as it was even just a few decades ago, there are still so many pressures on young dancers, their bodies, their mental health, and the competition is still fierce. Some of these kids are joining professional companies right out of highschool, moving to big cities at 18-19 years old and feeling the pressure to prove they're "where they belong" alongside managing an apartment and independence for the first time. And if they fuck up, they may not get another chance.

On the other hand, ballet culture of the 80s is turning out to be really fascinating. Inspiring as well as tragic for all the reasons that I am sure you can imagine. Because on one side of it you had the aids crisis and all the bullshit that required male dancers to maintain and defend their public image as straight masculine males; but on the other you had this unique space, that was heavily influenced by queer culture and has always been a niche avenue for queer men and women to be celebrated and rise to success (so long as the public could politely deny their queerness).

A space where straight and queer individuals worked intamitly, and within the bonds of the company a queer person could be known and live relatively openly. The "open secret" kept politely by their friends and colleagues. They lived and worked together, and they lost together as the aids epidemic rocked through their community, taking lovers along with friends and mentors. It makes me excited to develop Mrs. Harrington and explore her relationships with her students as well as Steve. It makes me excited to explore the tensions and relationships of the teens, who would be coming of age in this strange insular bubble celebrating new thoughts and ideas about life, right in the middle of conservative Indiana.

Billy would not expect to be able to find that kind of acceptance he finds in the dance world, especially when he leaves California. And it would be really interesting to explore his transition from the street scene of San Deigo, to this new elitist space where he can achieve incredible heights, receive honors from the president and standing ovations in packed out theaters, with a partner in the wings while being left in peace - just so long as he's willing to keep his head down and play by the rules.

I think Billy would really struggle with the hypocrisy of these privileged spaces, along with classism, body dysmorphia, homophobia, the performance of masculinity etc. Not to mention having to keep duel identities between his public and private life. These are all issues that are hinted at but barely touched upon in the canon, so it would be really rewarding I think to really be able to lean into it and give them a proper exploration.

LOL so writing that all out I think I am leaning towards keeping the 80s setting. But IDK, I'd be interested in hearing any other thoughts if you have them.

[camp-counselor-life]

So I think a big difference that I've seen in myself in the last year or so is where I'm trying to make an impact. Like, at some point I stopped harassing Senator [redacted - you would all know him] and religiously following national politics, and now I'm more focused on my local community (hyper-local in the case of the HOA).

I'm not saying this is a worse way of being, or that I've entirely checked out of national news, but I've unfollowed some accounts that were stressing me out and I spend more time and energy on my circles, not on people in faraway states. I know that this is privileged. I know not everyone can just turn their back on politicians and news when it suits them. I am incredibly blessed to be able to do this.

I do think it's really important to be active in the community. But like I tell the kids, you have to pick your community first. Maybe the community is your neighborhood, maybe your state, maybe your country. There's no wrong way to define your community. And you probably actually have a whole bunch of communities.

I still sign petitions and read books and watch documentaries. I still seek to improve my understanding and be a global citizen. However. I focus my energy on things that I can actually influence. And that has been 100 times better for my mental health.

I'm never going to get a national law passed or start a social media movement. That's just not who I am. But I can make [council] a better place for the kids and volunteers I work with. I can make the people in my HOA less angry at the HOA by making the HOA better. I can help and support people that I know and love.

Sometimes you change the world by reaching out. Sometimes you change the world by reaching next door.

Image ID: Me, a tall woman wearing a purple jacket, grey and brown cap, and black leggings, stands next to a road sign that reads "Residential area test driving prohibited," an ordinance that I petitioned the city and got passed when I was in sixth grade. That is my community. End ID.

[pierrotwrites-hc]

Hi Periott

I'm loving the new chapters of TGB but was wondering if you could give me some insight into Toby and his development because I found him quite infuriating in the last chapter

“Does that fat arse of yours need a rest, Toby?” “Watch your tongue, slave,” the Steward, bouncing over on his gray gelding, “or when we return to Highcourt, I shall personally ensure that you lose it.”

Is there a reason Toby never stands up for Doran? Like that's his brother. I'm curious, does Toby even see Doran as an actual person? What exactly is his mentality around slavery? And how does he not experience cognitive dissonance when he witnesses the injustices that happen to Connoll and his brother?

“Do you think we’ll be able to see each other once we’re at Highcourt?” asked Toby suddenly. “To play Legion, and talk about mathematics, and—well, just to talk, the way we are now?”

Is he seriously that naive and disconnected from the reality of things? Does he really believe that Luca is gonna have any form of freedom where their going? He knows Luca is a sex slave.

“Do you want to be a slave, Toby? Do you want to sleep on the ground and eat table scraps and get beaten like a dog whenever your master’s in a mood?” “No.” “No, of course not. You just like hanging around with slaves because we can’t tell you to fuck off. Fields of hell, do you care what’s going to happen to Luca once we get to Highcourt? Or to me and Con once we get back to Chesten? Your mam could sell us to the galleys, or the mines, or split us up and send us to opposite corners of the fucking earth. We could never see each other again. But you don’t give a damn about that, do you? Great and little gods, you must be the most selfish boy alive.” Toby’s face was mottled red and white. He was holding back tears. “That’s not very nice of you to say,” he said, in a voice that trembled with the effort not to cry.

YES! I am so glad Doran said this. Like from this interaction it's clear Toby is aware that being a slave is bad/not nice and yet he seems to have no lasting thoughts on the experiences of and consequences for those that are enslaved. And when Doran confronts him and brings up valid points, Toby makes it about himself by crying and acting like his feelings are hurt instead of acknowledging what Doran has pointed out or reflecting on things.

“Doran hates me,” Toby sobbed. “He’ll never forgive me for whipping him, never.”

I feel like the only reason Toby was upset about Doran's whipping is because he had to do it and it was an unpleasant experience for him. It feels like it had nothing to do with Doran's experience/suffering at all. And now all he's worried is forgiveness when he knows Doran's been whipped in the past and will continue to be whipped in the future because he's a slave.

He isn't naive and he's aware of how privileged he is because he's witnessed how those below him live and are treated. But he never seems to use his privilege or social standing to protect/help others, not even Doran. And ye only got rid of the letters summoning Luca back to Highcourt because he didn't want to lose his legion partner, not because he actually cares about Luca as a person.

I'm sorry lol. I love Toby but his privilege and selfishness really irks be sometimes, and I'd love to here your thoughts about him and any information you can give us about his reasonings and motivations (if it isn't too spoilery)

thank you so much for sending this ask. it was actually sent in response to ch 45 but I want to answer it now because ch 46 is an incredibly important milestone in Toby's development as a Good Human.

Is there a reason Toby never stands up for Doran?

yes, though it's a pretty selfish one. Toby grew up watching Doran be (relatively) well-treated and protected by their father. Doran was beaten and talked down to, sure, but that treatment was so normalized for slaves that Toby didn't really spare it much thought. note that when he intervenes on Luca's behalf with Hodge, it's because Hodge's behavior goes beyond even the treatment of slaves that Toby accepts as "normal."

Toby doesn't stand up for Doran because it hasn't occurred to him that Doran needs standing up for -- or that anyone would listen to Toby if he tried.

Does Toby even see Doran as an actual person? What exactly is his mentality around slavery?

Toby does see Doran (and Connell, and Luca) as real people in the way he sees everyone as real people...which means that he's mostly interested in how they relate to him rather than how other people/society in general relate to them. he's 19, but due to his incredibly sheltered and dysfunctional upbringing, his mentality is still very much that of a child. i want to emphasize that this has nothing to do with being autistic. he was just raised by pathologically selfish people and who gave him a pathologically selfish outlook on the world, and nothing in his privileged upbringing has forced him to challenge his assumptions until now.

How does he not experience cognitive dissonance when he witnesses the injustices that happen to Connoll and his brother?

the same reason we don't experience cognitive dissonance around so many of the injustices in our world. think of Ed Sheeren installing rails outside his mansion to keep the unhoused away despite having slept rough himself before making it big. Toby seems like a really extreme case because the things he accepts as normal -- e.g., slavery and abuse -- are so abnormal to us, and seem so self-evidently evil, but he's never had a reason to interrogate the conditions of his very comfortable life before. forced discomfort is going to be his greatest teacher.

Is he seriously that naive and disconnected from the reality of things?

unfortunately, yes.

Does he really believe that Luca is gonna have any form of freedom where their going? He knows Luca is a sex slave.

Toby knows Luca's a sex slave, but his only context for that is his father's relationship with Doran's mother Cilla -- who was, as Connell pointed out, treated more like his wife than his actual wife. too, slaves from Chesten have quite different lives than slaves from Lyonesse. i cover that in more detail here, but suffice it to say that Toby has very real understanding of what sex slavery really involves. he assumes that Luca will be treated at Highcourt more or less the way Cilla was, with a relatively high degree of personal freedom.

Toby is aware that being a slave is bad/not nice and yet he seems to have no lasting thoughts on the experiences of and consequences for those that are enslaved. And when Doran confronts him and brings up valid points, Toby makes it about himself by crying and acting like his feelings are hurt instead of acknowledging what Doran has pointed out or reflecting on things.

you really hit the nail on the head here. as Toby has said a few times in a few different ways, he's very good at not thinking about things that upset him...and when forced to, his instinctive response is that of a child: he manipulates people into comforting him. it isn't a conscious manipulation, and it isn't malicious, but it is really, really selfish, and something he'll need to unlearn.

I feel like the only reason Toby was upset about Doran's whipping is because he had to do it and it was an unpleasant experience for him. It feels like it had nothing to do with Doran's experience/suffering at all. And now all he's worried is forgiveness when he knows Doran's been whipped in the past and will continue to be whipped in the future because he's a slave.

yep.

He isn't naive and he's aware of how privileged he is because he's witnessed how those below him live and are treated. But he never seems to use his privilege or social standing to protect/help others, not even Doran. And ye only got rid of the letters summoning Luca back to Highcourt because he didn't want to lose his legion partner, not because he actually cares about Luca as a person.

you really nail Toby's character here, and it's a great description of where his arc starts. he has immense privilege which he takes completely for granted, and immense intelligence which he uses only for his own benefit. he genuinely loves Doran and Connell and Luca, but he will need to do a lot of work on himself before he can love them as well as they deserve. [spoilers maybe?] in Chapter 48 (so, two chapters in the future, since Ch47 will be a Robert chapter) we see Toby begin that work in earnest, and it will continue throughout Part III and in all the books which follow.

<3

[cafeinthemoon]

Ruins - Part XIII

Chapter 13/?

Wordcount 3,2k

Title Part XIII

Fandom Shuumatsu no Valkyrie / Record of Ragnarok

Pairing Hades x reader

Previous chapters

1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8 . 9 . 10 . 11 . 12

Symbols ⭕ . ➕ . 💛

Warnings: none

Tagging @holdyourwine @lilacshouko (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment on this chapter or send an ask or a message)

N. A.: So… It's been while lol In this one, Loki strikes again, this time bringing up valid questions, which will result in an important lesson about the nature of gods and what waits for reader in the future, but he cannot do this without falling into the uncanny valley at least for a moment XD

I wasn't satisfied with the beginning of ths chapter, so I did what I usually do in these cases and avoided working on it for several days, but finally I got through the discomfort it was causing me and finished the Festivity arc! Now, the way is free for the last - and most important - phase of the story, that is, the progress of their dating and the conclusion of it <3

Apart from the ones prepared by Loki, dinner followed without any surprises at the gods’ table. That is, if you didn’t count your presence there as a surprise too.

The gods were curious about the girl who solved the enigma proposed by the King of Hellheim in a matter of days, so that during the intervals between one meal and the next, they would take the opportunity to make you questions. You did your best to answer everything but, not being used to receive such amount of attention, you just ended up replying with “I do not know” and “I am not sure” to things that you would be perfectly able of explain if you were alone with Hades; during those moments, you glanced at him, quiet by your side, and by his assuring look, you could tell that he thought the same: it was his way to tell that you would certainly discuss this later, so you could stop worrying.

You told the gods about your notes and studies, your doubts and your clues, and how you connected the dots at that critical point when you only had a few minutes before meeting Hades again. Everyone was listening, some with undisguised curiosity, others with the solemnity of elder people who had a hard time processing an incredible conquer from a young person, but for everyone you made it clear that you would never manage to solve it if it wasn’t for the episode with the girls.

– This is what I meant when I said that destiny helped me on the hardest parts, Hades-sama – you explained looking directly at him – I could have continued my seek, but no discoveries would happen if it wasn’t for this specific event.

Hades, on his part, wasn’t entirely convinced of that, jut as he wasn’t before, preferring to point out your wisdom as the true force behind the results.

– Maybe yes, maybe not – he commented with a smile and a goblet of wine in hand – What I am sure is that the answers would have found a way to you in that moment or any other.

You cheeks warmed up to that; maybe you would never get used to his flattering observations about your intelligence. Of course, you didn’t try to argue with him in front of his family and the other deities, but again, you would have time to talk later.

In the end, instead of the disaster you were expecting, dinner with the gods was quite good, and following Poseidon-sama’s statement, you finally recognized the privilege you were granted with.

***

You were at a balcony, enjoying the night with an empty goblet in hands, wondering if you should enter and get more alcohol for yourself or leave the cup on a tray. Hades walked with you there, but stated that he had matters to discuss with his pairs and went back inside, but not before asking you to wait for him. You agreed and he left you with a kiss on the back of your hand.

It’s been a few minutes since you were there alone. While you waited, you observed Valhalla’s night from the high balcony, and were impressed to see that it was as full of life as its day: the sky had its own constellations, resembling the ones of Midgard, but bigger and brighter, as if they were closer to the land, and their light shone over the fields of flowers with the same intensity as the Moon, and the sounds of the little predators’ steps, the whistling of the night birds and the insects came to you as a solemn tune.

One of those insects seemed to find its way to your side. At first, you found it strange that it looked bigger than a common bug, but when it landed on the balcony and a glow surrounded its body, you understood why.

The creature grew in size and gave place to the eccentric figure of Loki.

– A pretty lady all by herself, exposed to the dangers of the night – he commented, his crossed legs dangling on the inner side of the balcony – What a cruelty…

Your grip around the goblet increased before you could control your hands.

– Dangers? What do you mean, Loki-sama?

The god of Mischief put a hand on his ear, as to concentrate on the nightly noises, and looked behind him, at the dark fields.

– Are you hearing these sounds, dear? How do you think the beasts that produce them look like?

You looked around, not understanding why he was speaking like that about creatures which nature had nothing to do with beasts, but not wanting to extend such senseless conversation either.

– To me, they look like owls.

He frowned, not hiding his disappointment with your boring response.

– Anyways… Why did Hades-sama leave you here alone? I thought he would spend the rest of the party with you.

Since Hades didn’t give you any details about the matters he had to solve, you just said that he had important things to discuss and would soon get back to you.

– I see… – he replied; and, returning to the subject of the beasts, – You know, I like the fact that you are a brave girl, not easily intimidated by creatures which aspect you can only suppose. I really like it.

You put the goblet upon the balcony and straightened up your posture.

– It seems that you’re trying to say something serious, Loki-sama. May I ask what is it?

Now, it was clear that Loki wanted that conversation to last long, as much as his intention of saying things he wouldn’t dare in front of Hades was evident in his response to your inquiry: he opened a grin that made the corners of his mouth literally reach his ears, so that the human aspect of his appearance vanished to give place to something else, unknown and inconceivable for your mind; alongside the glimmer in his lilac eyes, it awakened in you anything but the deepest strangeness and aversion.

– You have a preference for things that are straightforward, don’t you? – Loki’s smile faded, his lips turning back to their normal size as he spoke – If this is the case, let me ask you: did Hades-sama tell you about the kind of place he’s planning to take you to?

You had your hand leaning on the parapet, beside the goblet; it shook when you heard that question, touching the object and almost dropping it to the darkness below.

– Hades-sama isn’t planning to take me anywhere – you had the nerve to say – More than this, I am not planning to go anywhere.

Any other god would have considered your response a defiance, but not Loki, who was clearly trying to provoke you. What angered you was the fact that he was succeeding in this: speaking like that about Hades and his intentions not only sounded disrespectful, a personal offense.

– Hm-hm – he moved his head from one side to the other – My intuition says that your stay here will not last long, and only a fool wouldn’t realize it has everything to do with the King of Hellheim and his plans concerning you. If that’s not true, then why he would want to show you to us as the cute prize you are?

Cute prize? What does he mean?

You hated the way he was putting things, but you had to recognize that the creepy young man beside you was one of the most clever individuals you’ve met at Valhalla, so trying to hide things from him was useless. You just let him continue.

– So, as I was saying… Do you know what kind of place he wants to take you to? – he inclined toward you, speaking lower as to share a gossip – Do you know what Hellheim really is? What it looks like? What kind of beings live there?

You swallowed. Of course you didn’t have the answers, but you wouldn’t behave like an ignorant, thus giving him what he wanted, so you kept quiet.

Loki didn’t give up.

– Yes, you have no ways to know. But there are many stories among your people, right? So, let me tell you that they are mostly true… and, honestly, just half of the reality…

He leaned on his side over the parapet, before you, grabbing your goblet and making it full again, but not with wine: you looked inside it and saw a black mist raising from it, spreading around to form a sort of portal or mirror, through which you started seeing disturbing things. There was a land that resembled the ruins of your dreams, but it wasn’t empty: you spotted fires falling from the skies like a storm, burning everything they touched, and shadows of monstrous shapes running to all directions, but there was no shelter, no escape from the destruction.

Loki’s voice sounded distant, merging with the vision.

– This is the place he rules over… The place he wants to take you to... – he was saying – Do you think you could share it with him, young lady?

If those words had the intention of scare you, then, you could say it worked – but only partly. More than fear for what could be waiting for you in the world of the ruins, they inflated you with wrath: that illusion, those attempts of sowing seeds of doubt in your heart were so low, so outrageous that you couldn’t take them seriously.

You gathered all the strength you had and stepped back to free yourself from the spell, and the next thing Loki saw was the goblet flying away from his hand after the slap you gave it. The sound of metal colliding with the wall behind, then clanging on the marble floor overcame everything around, and the silence that followed was as heavy as the emotions you tried to suppress to avoid committing a heresy.

For a moment, none of you spoke. You just stood there, facing the malicious eyes of the Nordic god, hoping for a less troubled outcome for that situation: you were aware that he could end your life right there after what you did, but it was hard to tell if he was really going to do it or if he would prefer to continue with his teasing.

Since he didn’t say anything, you took the initiative in this.

– I accepted your tricks at the table for what they were, but this is different, Loki-sama. You are crossing a line here.

Something ignited inside his eyes when he heard that, and you really thought he was preparing a punishment, but instead of this he broke his silence with a sudden, insane laughter. He sat back on his previous spot on the parapet and took a moment to recover his breath.

– So… you already reached this point in your love, girl? – he panted – Guess it would be impossible to change your mind even if I’ve put real effort in it…

You felt your face burning at those words. He was just trying to see how far he could go before you snapped... And you fell so easily in his trap, acting like the infatuated young woman he thought you to be.

Shame on me.

Just when you started to wonder what Hades would think if he saw that scene, a change in the environment was sensed by both of you, and you saw Loki leaving the parapet and standing on his feet with an agitated expression, as someone who was just caught in the middle of a suspicious activity. You were a bit surprised to notice that he was almost a head taller than you, something hard to realize since he was always standing in weird positions.

– If she was goddess, you would certainly be cursed by now, Loki.

You startled when you recognized the King of Hellheim’s voice.

You looked at the same direction as Loki and saw Hades approaching your spot with unworried steps. He glanced at the goblet on the floor and you thought of grabbing it back and taking it to the elves, but gave up when his eyes met yours, as if telling you to stay where you were and let him things with him from now on.

He stopped by your side and you felt your body relaxing with the proximity. Loki, on the other hand, took a timid step back, not sure of what was going to happen.

– If that’s the case, I’m glad she’s just human – he commented with a tense smile.

Hades sighed.

– You will never learn, won’t you?

– I was just playing with her, Hades-sama – Loki replied with a tone that reminded you of an annoyed kid whose jokes are never understood – Why does everyone always take things so seriously here?

Hades didn’t give any verbal response to that, only staring at the other man with the seriousness you saw in Odin, who you supposed to be the only person able to keep the god of Mischief under control.

Loki sustained the glare for a moment, but soon gave up and rolled his eyes.

– Okay, I apologize – and shrugging as he walked away, – I’ll give you some privacy now… I’ll be near the table if you need me…

When Loki was finally out of sight, you sighed in relief – and a bit of embarrassment.

– You saw what I did, right, my Lord? – you glanced at the goblet – I’m so sorry for this. It was childish of me to give in to such provocations, but when he started to speak those things about you, my blood just boiled…

Despite being aware of what just happened, Hades seemed to be in a really good mood, something that confused and impressed you: how could he not be offended with that?

– That’s okay, little one – he brushed your hair behind your ear – It was fun to observe his face at that moment. I assure you he wasn’t expecting that reaction from you, so that he brought the punishment over himself for his trickery.

You looked away, in a frail attempt of hiding your smile.

– And, honestly, I couldn’t care less about it – Hades continued – The worst thing Loki did was to anticipate a conversation I was planning to have with you later, and I wanted it to be as light as possible. But, after what he did, we can no longer expect this.

Your heart ached with that. Was he really going to apologize for not telling you what his domain was like, what kind of place he wanted to take you in? After all the things he showed about himself, his gentleness, his wisdom and good sense of humor? And after behaving with such respect and honor towards you?

No, I can’t accept it. That’s not fair.

– Please, Hades-sama, don’t do this to yourself – you took his hands on yours – If you’re going to say that Loki was right and that you should already have spoken to me about Hellheim, please, don’t. I would never listen to him and commit such disrespect towards you – and, tightening your grip around his hands, – I trust you, my Lord. If you don’t think the time for me to learn about this has come, then I can wait.

Hades observed you with the sad smile of an older individual who appreciated the freshness and the good will of someone younger, but whose heart felt sorry for the things that awaited the young one in life.

– I know about your good disposition, and this only makes my appreciation for you grow stronger – he replied – Still, I have to say that Loki wasn’t entirely wrong in the questions he brought up.

You frowned.

– Really?

– Let me guess… – he rolled his eyes – He showed you desolated landscapes, darkness, horrendous creatures and despair, right?

– Well… – you swallowed.

Hades touched your chin, making you look directly at him.

– Don’t worry. You’re not going to offend me by giving a positive answer, y/n. There are many concepts and stories among your people about the place to where the dead are sent, and they are all similar in their basic aspects – he shrugged – There’s no use in romanticizing it. Whether you are familiar with the old traditions or not, you know what the word hell means.

You sighed.

– Of course, I know. Still, he had no right to speak like that!

Instead of trying to make you forget that, Hades laughed, as if you just told him the smartest – or the funniest – thing he heard in his life.

– What’s so funny, my Lord? – you asked, chuckling.

His response was to pull you to him, caressing your face with the back of his hand.

– You’re really offended by all of this, aren’t you? But let me ask you something. Do you really think this is the first time someone speaks negatively about my domains?

You bit your lip, but gave him no reply. The answer was too obvious.

– If I had my feelings hurt every time someone speaks something about Hellheim and my work there, I would’ve given up on it a long time ago – he kissed your forehead – So, please, don’t overwork yourself being offended for me.

– I’m sorry – you whispered.

– That’s okay. Loki is probably rethinking his attitudes by now. He will leave you alone for a while after that.

You smiled. Hades offered his hand to lead you back to the party, but you hesitated.

– What’s wrong?

– I just remembered something – you replied – When you arrived, you said that if I was a goddess, Loki would be cursed after what I did. What did you mean with this, Hades-sama?

That was his time to smile.

– Ah, this is another conversation we would have sooner or later, but now I was the one who anticipated it – and, returning to your side, – Unlike what happens to mortal individuals, whose words can only be used to cast spells or make prophecies under the influence of external, superior forces, gods can do this on their own. This ability doesn’t work on mortals only: we can use it in each other, with more or less efficacy depending on the circumstances. It can represent an immense advantage for us, but if not used the right way, it can lead to many problems, most of them irreparable. In the past, when gods and humans shared a closer bond, some of us acted in the heat of emotions, creating rules and decrees and casting spells with no regard for the ones who would have to live under them, their descendants and their future, and the effects of these decisions can be sensed until these days. Of course, this is just a summary of the situation, and you will need a long time to assimilate everything that’s involved, but I think that’s enough for you to understand that Loki would face some complications if you weren’t human.

You covered your mouth, only then realizing the impact of the episode with the tricksy god. This was what waited for you in the future, if you definitely say yes to Hades; would you be able to deal with this?

You would have stayed there for the rest of the night deliberating, if the King of the Underworld didn’t bring you back to reality and reminded you that, for now, it was time to enjoy the night.

– We will have time to think of this, little one – he offered his hand for the second time – It shouldn’t kill our diversion tonight.

You finally accepted his invitation and, with a smile, went back to the warm and lively interior of the building.

[twisting-roads]

[PART 8, SECTION 1]

I am going to try and make these longer, I can only take meticulously editing text in html for so long though

(811.312) [LIVE BROADCAST] - PRIVATE Cage Of Membrane, Chain Of Missing Links

COML: Still at it? COML: It has been very lonely without you… COM: large work…load COM: -ots of bio bio biomatter COML: What kind of biomatter? COM: neuron- and variations COM: large qua quantity COML: Have you received anything about SBC yet? COML: A few cycles ago Thirteen Catastrophes’ overseers have begun to spy on me, very obviously too, at that. I’m forbidden from gathering more data at this time. COM: no COM: thirteen catas-- scolded me as well… i am innocentt ~! COML: I recall that Horizon Of Sulfur became involved with this as well. Should I go ask him if he can tell me anything? COM: please, do do not COML: I… understand. I just know how close SBC was to you. I want to make sure it’s okay. COM: do not concern y y yourself so much much with issues you can’t con control…  COM: i -not know if sbc will fully r recover or not. i can say with c- fidence though… i could speak to it it…again soon COML: Understood, yes, I apologize. COM: d dont be sorry… i appri… -ate all you try to to to do for me… you care so… ch…  COM: its very up upsetting when you you use the professionalism voice… s stay safe… please

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(812.342)  [LIVE BROADCAST] - PRIVATE Cage Of Membrane, Chain Of Missing Links

COM: ha have yo… -een doing well the the last cycle? COML: Normal business, I suppose. Why do you ask? COM: …been thinking… COM: boundary… n needs help. nob… -dy has done any anything… COML: But it’s like you said, we would get in trouble wouldn’t we…? I breached their privacy without permission, if I push that further I risk punishment, and dragging you down with me would be terrible.  COML: I’m privileged enough to have very loose restrictions on what I’m able to do, and I know you don’t have those same luxuries- COM: n not that, silly! i have asked perm… -on to send… a care package of of sorts. my requ request has… yet to go through  COML: …Oh COML: What do you plan on sending though? COM: not my deci… -on COML: I suppose if you had the choice then, what would you send? Perhaps a creature smart enough to understand its purpose, but dull enough to follow it blindly? COM: rude… haha- COML: Well- you know what I meant! You tell me horror stories of purposed organisms too clever to listen to simple commands all the time. I suppose you’d know more about the specifics than I do, though. COM: well i i could send you you the… data containing the- genome sequence-ence… i planned

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(812.784) [LIVE BROADCAST] - PRIVATE Chain Of Missing Links, Oblivion On Quartz Towers

OOQT: I have never been the type to gossip really, but it is incredibly suspicious how involved Thirteen Catastrophes has been. OOQT: I assume you already know. COML: I know more than I should. I’ve been dedicating the last few cycles to attempting to piece together this situation. OOQT: Explains your recent inertness. I don’t know how you’ve kept it up for this long without having any more restrictions placed on you.  OOQT: Anyways, if it comforts you, everyone I spoke to essentially came to a similar conclusion about TC as well. COML: I’m better at covering my tracks than you might think.  COML: And that is nice to know, I suppose. OOQT: Oh really? Good at covering your tracks? COML: Well, like you said, I’ve gone a while without any of our creators finding out yet, hahaha! OOQT: Well, is it because you’re actually good at this, or because of how dull your administrators are. COML: Oh be nice- they’re lovely individuals, I do like them. COML: Quartz, can I be honest with you? OOQT: You’ve been honest this whole time, haven’t you? COML: No, seriously. I’m not sure if I should say it, but I trust you to know. It might be important. OOQT: Ah. I’ll keep any secrets you disclose to me safe. COML: I… plan on intercepting TC’s broadcasts. I have to if I want to know more about what she plans to do with SBC. COML: Even if I can’t do anything to stop him, I don’t want any of this data to become lost. I see the warning signs now, and I can’t let them be obscured. OOQT: I understand how lax your administrators are, but something like this will certainly get some eyes on you. Are you sure you’d want to follow through a plan like this? COML: I feel a sense of obligation… OOQT: I won’t tell you no, but I’m telling you that there is a reason as to why interceptions are so uncommon. COML: I’ll be doing it anyways. OOQT: Good luck then. I’ll be there for you when you’re apprehended. COML: Wow, thanks. OOQT: I mean it.

[waveridden]

tell me more about manipulashipping 👀 i am very very very intrigued

ok let me try to keep this calm and normal the tldr is while i was rewatching dm a while back i realized that there’s something really interesting in how both of them handle bodily autonomy and also anzu’s take-no-shit empathy would be good for marik as he recovers from the All Of That

the longer version goes like this:

anzu is a dancer, and has been trying to become a dancer for years. it’s the kind of thing that requires discipline, and she’s good at that, understanding each muscle in her body and the purpose it serves. she practices and practices until she is in control, insomuch as she can be. (she’s still subject to some pretty horrific sexism, esp if you consider s0/pre-dm manga stuff as being a similar canon to dm.)

marik does not have control over his body. this is a privilege he does not get. he is burned and branded and tattooed. he is dragged kicking and screaming into becoming his family heir, no matter how much he wants to leave and explore and be somewhere else or be someone else. the only thing he wants, even as he begins spiraling into revenge and grief, is to gain enough power that he can leave his tombkeeper duties behind.

(which btw - something incredibly fun/sad about his primary method for achieving his goals centering around literally possessing other people. marik wants autonomy sooooo bad that he will take away other people’s autonomy in order to get it.)

my original fascination with marik/anzu (my top secret is that i hate the ship name lol) stemmed from a canon divergence idea that can be summed up as: there is something super fun to me about anzu and marik ending up body sharing. like, you have this woman who is under so much social scrutiny but finds freedom through dance, and through control, and then you have this man who has never been able to control his own body, living in her head. anzu who would willingly carve out space in her mind for marik but will never forgive him for violating her; marik who does not know how to take space in a way that doesn’t hurt people, learning how to set limits. not to mention having anzu be a capable duelist with Marin’s help would be fun (imagining more of an astral-yuma setup than an atem-yugi but i digress)

all that aside, i think there’s just so much here. that’s not even getting into the fact that for both of them freedom means traveling abroad, which leads to fun postcanon opportunities. to me this relationship is about autonomy and also forgiveness. can you forgive someone who does something horrible to you? can you forgive them if you understand why, if their life was your worst nightmare? can you understand someone if their dreams are yours? can you love someone like that? can you let yourself be loved? can you meet someone in a bar in new york or a hotel in cairo or a stage door in tokyo and choose to start over?

marik and anzu: for people who have lots of thoughts about bodies and control! (do you guys think bodyshipping works as a name. it’s honestly more normal than a lot of other ship names)