#it’s also wack cause as far as I know she did grow up normally

[daydreamerdrew]

back-up story to The Flash (1959) #306, as republished in Immortal Doctor Fate (1985) #2

[nearer-than-the-eye]

I'm sending this out of sudden but I just read your xxxholic rou meta and it left me wondering if I got it all wrong. Even if watanuki hadn't wished to see yuko again, he'd still become the shopkeeper, grow up and die like a normal human? His inmortality comes from his wish, or from his own nature? Sorry if this sounds dumb

edit: i said vol. 18 instead of 19 lmao, fixed now

original post

nah I think you raise a good question! So good, in fact, that this answer is basically a short essay lmao. My meta focused primarly on watanuki’s confinement, because that IS a result of his nature as a blip in the universe or whatever, and I‘m pretty sure I had been mistaken about the cause of that. He didn’t choose confinement, he had confine himself in order not to cause harm, just like Syaoran does not choose to keep traveling, he’s similarly forced to do so.

Whether or not his immortality/unnaturally long life came from his wish to see Yuuko again or from his confinement to the shop is, I think, ambiguous, though whether or not CLAMP did that on purpose or it’s just not great writing is up for debate lol. At the end of volume 19 Watanuki says that he no longer has to “hide” in the shop anymore and can re-enter the world, and that seems to be a result of the amount of time that has past since the events of the main series. He also expresses that he will probably never see the same Yuuko again, but he doesn’t want to forget her and will continue being shopkeeper. IDK if that means his desire to not forget her is making him live past his normal life span now (kind of a wack way to represent grief, CLAMP) but we don’t know what happens when he re-enters the world so he very well could begin to age from this point on. It’s almost like CLAMP should finish the series!

It’s also worth noting that there are actually two wishes at play here: Watanuki’s wish to see Yuuko again and Yuuko’s wish that Watanuki continue to exist. I wonder if Yuuko’s wish is partially what’s fueling his immortality, and if we’re in a repeat of what happened w her and Clow: she was frozen in time bc Clow wanted her to stay alive, Watanuki gets frozen in time because Yuuko wanted him to stay alive. That seems EXCEPTIONALLY DARK, especially since Yuuko understood her existence was an aberration. Alternatively, since it seems like the reason Watanuki can re-enter the world is because of the time that has passed (time he could not have had as a normal human), maybe Yuuko’s wish kept him alive SO THAT he could re-enter the world and “exist” as a normal human. Perhaps that would grant Yuuko’s wish, and he would begin to age again. (BUT AGAIN WE DON’T KNOW THAT BECAUSE IT’S UNRESOLVED, THANKS CLAMP.)

It ALSO seems like CLAMP maybe wants to retcon volume 19, because Rei appears to take place while Doumeki Shizuka is still alive (Himawari doesn’t have perfect lookalikes for descendants, as far as we know) and CLAMP is doing SOMETHING with Yuuko in volume 4 of rei, though god knows what. So that may give us some more info eventually too, if CLAMP ever finishes the damn thing.

The fact that this is still so ambiguous is, I think, emblematic of CLAMP’s tendency to get carried away with their insane plot bullshit and lose out on making sure the emotional narrative is cohesive and clear. The Tsubasa ending, in my opinion, feels a lot more conclusive, even though it has 10 times the plot bullshit of xxxHolic. Fai and Kurogane are together and a cohesive unit, Syaoran and Sakura know how much they mean to each other. Syaoran’s need to keep moving makes the ending bittersweet, but we know where everybody stands with everybody else and HOW we got to that point emotionally.

xxxHolic obfuscating the reason Watanuki is staying in the shop and immortal does its emotional arcs no good: has Watanuki thrown away his lessons of connection with others to chase after the chance of seeing Yuuko again, or is he making the best of a bad situation and using his confinement as an opportunity to also wait for Yuuko? He seems to have plenty of connections in Rou, and his relationships have matured and deepened with every character we see (he and Himawari tell each other “I love you” as dear friends, he’s on even footing with the Jorougumo and Ame-Warashi, dear friends with Kohane, and his relationship with Doumeki is still complicated but in different, adult ways). But he’s still choosing to take on Yuuko’s mannerisms and role because he misses her and mourns her.

The reason for his confinement and immortality is the lens the rest of Rou is filtered through, and when that reason is up for debate, the lens we view Rou through is up for debate. I don’t think that adds to the series, and I think the ambiguity specifically hurts Rou (one of the most interesting arcs of the series!). CLAMP’s decisions and/or bad writing that resulted in this ambiguity can’t be fixed, even if the stuff I talked about gets answers down the line, and that’s a damn shame. This fucking mini essay I’ve written here really shouldn’t have needed to exist if CLAMP had just done their job right.

[luvdetroit]

Hey! I 've just read the first chapter of the dbh series you wanted to start, and I really like the plot 🥺 Do you plan on continuing it? 👉🏻👈🏻

hey, sorry for the late reply! i actually do have it planned out a bit differently than i originally wrote it in the first chapter. i think this planned version is better than the one i posted. there are many other ideas that i have in my drafts, i just haven’t released them yet.

thank you for reading it! i'm happy you enjoyed it and i'm sorry for saying this but i think i'll just scrap this idea and go with my new one (VOW). it will be somewhat similar, just more complex? and hopefully interesting!

not sure if you are even interested in hearing about them but i’ll drop them here! maybe if you or anyone is interested, i will follow through with posting them (have been feeling very bad about my writing recently).

for anyone who does read my ideas, please do not steal! i really worked hard on thinking about these and would be really hurt if anyone took them. they aren’t super original or anything, but i still created them 😩

these are really roughly written so please don’t judge 🚶🏼‍♀️🚶🏼‍♀️

please do comment or send me a message in my inbox about which idea you like more, if i should do a specific one or all of them even! 💞💞💞

1. TITLE: VOW

pairings: various! x fem!reader

genre: meta (?), angst, fluff, etc

plot: metafiction. mc surfs the web to buy d:bh and finds a seller who is willing to sell the game for cheap (suspiciously). mc contacts the user and a deal has been made.

we will flesh out the seller later, he ain’t all that important rn. so mc gets the game after maybe two days? and in the packaging the seller wrote a letter to her, it is pretty cryptic. we can get into detail on the letter and stuff later.

so mc starts the game up right away because she is excited to play it. on her first play though everything is pretty normal. there are a few differences/odd occurrences but mc doesn’t bat an eye because it’s her first time playing so she wouldn’t know.

gradually as she plays, the characters (connor and markus) are more aware of them being in a game. (sense they are in the same series and are prototypes it only makes sense for them to be able to sync themselves/go beyond their coding).

connor and markus have broken the fourth wall/have become aware with other players. they grow a deep hatred for the player. sense they can’t throw their anger at the creators of the game, they can do so with the player.

at first, connor and markus only did minor things that didn’t really stand out to the player. when connor/markus breaks the fourth wall and directly talks about the player, the player thinks it’s apart of the game.

but when connor/markus mentions the player’s name that is when they freak out a bit, but assumes the characters got their names from their playstation.

it’s only when connor/markus states some personal stuff about them do they feel fear. (connor/markus can sync with the smart tv that also contains all their info).

connor/markus have tried to sync with the game/tv enough to transport the player in the game so the player can experience first hand what it’s like to live in their world. but their connection weakens each time the player resets. their memories are also wiped out.

over time connor/markus are able to retain their memories a lot faster but forget the previous players of the game. even if they don’t remember the previous players they still think of one goal. transport the player into their world, let them suffer, seeing first hand how THEY feel.

connor/markus will be slightly oc. they will have somewhat of a dark side.

i didn’t explain this in the summary bcus i’m dumb but the game can’t be destroyed (it’s like a possessed object). even if you throw it out or something it will still go back to you bcus you own it. the only way to get rid of it is selling it.

ik some wack logic but sjakwkw

sam is the seller of the game. (his username is GAMER BOY 69). the game is sold for $10 with free shipping and no tax.

mc: does this really only cost $10? why is this so cheap?

sam: i’m just being generous

sam: are you willing to buy it?

mc: can you show proof that you actually have it and it isn’t broken?

sam: sure, hold on a second

[sam sends a video of him filming the game packaging and saying his username (in a bit of embarrassment) and mc’s. he reassured her that it isn’t broken and works perfectly fine. he tells her he didn’t like the game so that’s why he’s selling it.]

sam’s letter is in a white envelope, his writing is slightly messy, almost jittery (from nerves). he feared he was being watched by, ‘them’ so he wrote cryptically.

sam’s note: i’m sorry i did this to you. i really am. i just didn’t have any other choice. don’t play the game, please.

2. TITLE: PARESTHESIA

pairings: various! x fem! reader

genre: dark au, cult au, angst, fluff, etc

plot: in this au kamski doesn’t publicly make androids n stuff

so amanda stern is still kamski’s mentor in this au

she, ‘disappears’ at some point and is listed as a missing person

kamski knows she isn’t gone though bcus she told him her plan

basically amanda is very manipulative and warped kamski’s young mind into thinking humans being lesser beings and that kamski can really create something even more superior, androids.

kamski and amanda are humans but they are excused because of them being intelligent and having that sort of mindset- humans being filth on this planet

instead of kamski making cyberlife public

he instead also disappears after a few years later (once he’s done w college)

it’s a gap between amanda and his disappearance to not completely draw suspicion

cyberlife is created in secret, hidden from the public

belief: humans are disgusting and should be replaced by something far superior, androids.

rules: only those who have the same mindset as kamski and amanda can join the cause and contribute. (so human co workers of amanda and such help gather material and thirium (blue blood) to create more androids in secret).

practices: a member has to willingly be able to sacrifice any body part kamski chooses to replace for an android part or partake in any experiment kamski may have. if not, they aren’t fully in the cause and should be ridden of.

kamski wants to take a oblivious civilian in for a secret test of his

he wants to test out how human his androids can be and if it can blend in with humans in normal day to day life.

so he releases one of his androids, connor (rk800) out into the world. his mission is to find a human he can initiate a relationship with. once he finds that human, he slowly grows a relationship with them over time- kamski is studying all of this through connor’s eyes.

kamski is amazed by this new discovery- his androids do blend in with humans well.

the last secret test for mc is connor telling her his true nature. (telling her he isn’t human, he’s an android). connor breaks this to mc at his, ‘house’ which is connected to their secret compound/underground base.

kamski wants to know how mc will react to this news because her actions depends on whether she’s just another piece of human scum or not. this will validate whether she can join their, ‘organization’ or not.

mc will be confused by connor’s sudden news at first. she won’t believe him until he pulls back his skin to show his porcelain interior.

she’ll be surprised then and question whether their relationship was all real or not.

connor reassures her that he does share her feelings. he admits that at first this was a mission but he truly does feel for her. he asks her if she still has feelings for him even after knowing he isn’t human and mc (after a bit of thinking) says that she does.

this makes connor happy as well as kamski bcus mc got through the test. this is the first android-human relationship too.

a few days pass just to really make sure mc doesn’t act any different and really is telling the truth about having feelings for connor still- when connor informs mc that his creator wants to meet her in person one day.

connor and mc go to his place and he leads her downstairs to his normal looking basement- and there is this really intricate hidden puzzle/door that opens to their underground compound.

connor leads mc to a room and meets kamski. kamski comments on mc- on how he was surprised that mc quickly took a liking to connor and how she still has feelings for connor even after finding out the truth. he’s impressed and approves of the relationship.

he tells her he hopes she keeps her word about this organization being a secret because he wouldn’t want anything bad happening to her so soon.

after that connor and mc go about their relationship like normal. although, connor has been experiencing these odd feelings lately. he’s also been oddly wanting to act out violently towards the most smallest things. like mc talking to someone else, smiling at someone else, touching someone else, even if it was platonic.

it didn’t sit right with him. he never voiced these new feelings to kamski though. he was too afraid kamski might tell him he has something wrong with his software. he doesn’t want kamski to call him defective and replace him for another connor. he doesn’t want to be seen as not good enough for mc.

connor doesn’t act on any of his thoughts. he doesn’t let his emotions control him.

after about two weeks kamski calls connor and tells him he wants him to meet someone (rk900) and that he should bring mc.

so connor visits the compound and meets kamski in a lounge area with mc. they both enter the room with kamski casually laying on a lush couch. a small smile is brought on his face when he noticed connor and mc’s presence. he greets them both and tells them that he’s happy they could make it.

connor opens his mouth, about to ask who the person kamski wants him to meet when rk900 walks in with two cups of tea + thirium in his hands.

rk900 places a tea down in front of kamski, the other tea and thirium on the opposite side of kamski’s before returning his attention to connor and mc. his eyes scrutinizing connor and mc.

kamski’s smile widens at connor’s reaction and stands up, clasping rk900’s shoulder with one hand. he prompts rk900 to introduce himself.

rk900 introduces himself somewhat stiffly in a monotone voice.

rk900: my name is conan.

it was short and to the point. he offers an open hand for a handshake.

connor looks over conan, completely ignoring the hand offered to him, then at kamski with all sorts of emotions. the main ones being confusion and fear. at this point connor is wondering if conan is going to replace him for a reason connor does not know.

kamski breaks the awkward silence/tension in the room.

kamski: “well, connor? aren’t you going to greet your brother?”

connor takes a few moments to process this information and absentmindedly inquires, “brother?” in a small voice. his brows furrow slightly and his gaze draws towards his look alike. from up close, conan looks exactly like connor with a few differences. he was slightly taller than connor and had cool greyish blue eyes. why would kamski decide to make me a brother? i didn’t ask for one.

kamski: “yes, brother. i just thought it might be lonely to live alone in that big house of yours so i have gifted you with your own brother.”

at this point connor is having a mental breakdown. kamski doesn’t do things without a logical reason. he’s not telling me the full truth.

connor finally breaks out of his thoughts, his eyes darting back to kamski and he nods shortly, ignoring conan’s still outstretched hand and his presence altogether.

connor: [in a stony voice] okay, is that all?

conan drops his hand.

the corners of kamski’s lips twitch, threatening to split into a menacing smirk at connor’s cold reaction. kamski clicks his tongue mockingly and sits back down, grabbing his tea.

kamski: “that’s not how you should treat your brother. [sighs] that will be all, but you have to teach conan how things work around here. that’s what a big brother should do, after all.”

connor bites back a disgruntled sigh of his own and settles for a slight frown.

connor: “why wasn’t he informed before meeting me? didn’t he go through the same test runs as me?”

it took everything in connor to not let his irritation show through his tone.

kamski pins connor with an annoyed glare, a small bit of amusement shining through.

kamski: “why are you testing my patience connor? are you not happy with my gift?”

kamski’s words were light mockery, with a dark undertone to them. connor knew better than to irritate his creator further. he bows his head slightly to him.

connor: “i apologize for causing you further inconvenience. i..am just surprised by the new addition, that’s all.”

kamski simply nods lazily. waving a hand, he tells them they are dismissed.

connor turns away from his creator and him to the exit with you following right beside him silently. he places his hand on the small of your back and presses you close to him possessively. the slight tapping of a pair of shoes follow behind connor and you. connor ignores it.

connor walks through the maze of hallways without pause, part of him hoping his, ‘brother’ would get lost and never return.

he knew better though. without even looking, he knew conan wasn’t even a step behind and it irritated connor to no end.

once the three enter the, ‘main area’ which was basically the center of the compound, connor turns around to face conan.

connor: [monotonously] “give me your hand, i’ll transfer the data so this all can be over with.”

connor outstretches his hand. part of him wants to pull it back because he doesn’t want to touch him.

conan looks at connor’s outstretched hand to connor’s face.

conan: “no, i can’t do that. kamski specifically told me to get the information from you the, ‘human’ way. he wishes for us to talk to each other like brothers.”

connor looks even more bewildered at that bit of information..why would kamski do this without his consent? this..has to be some sort of test. maybe conan is just playing the role as his brother to spy on him and catch him doing something that may incriminate him? does kamski know about his odd..’glitches’? did he make rk900 just to dispose of him and replace him?

no, he couldn’t have known..the cameras in his opticals were shut off weeks ago. so why was rk900 here? what is kamski getting at?

connor also took notice of how..machine like conan is. conan walks stiffly and has a rigid stance. in that sentence he brings up what kamski wants rather than his. he follows kamski’s orders as if they were law without question.

connor still has his hand in front of him and ignores what conan says

he’s like, “it would be easier if we just did this.” (he’s irritated and is insistent)

and conan refuses, again repeating, “we have to follow kamski’s orders.”

and connor taunts conan

he’s like, “can you not think for yourself? i thought you were supposed to be alive.”

at that, mc finally speaks, telling connor off, “that’s enough, connor. i think you should just follow what kamski says. conan is just as alive as you and needs some of your guidance.”

connor’s eyes slightly widen as well as conan’s. connor’s frown deepens at your words. you’re defending him. why? you should be on his side, not him.

conan still has a blank face but his eyes are now trained on mc, curiosity being one of the emotions flickering in his eyes.

connor notices conan looking at mc and narrows his eyes in disgust.

connor: fine..we can discuss everything at my place.

connor turns and places his hand back on mc’s lower back, pressing her as close to him and far from conan as possible.

conan follows on without question.

3. TITLE: DARK EXTERIOR

pairings: various! x fem! reader

genre: dark au, angst, fluff, etc

plot: the main plot is androids taking over and humans as pets

so mc is obviously gonna be a human, she is like in one of those sort of adoption places but it’s more like a buy your pet thing

and mc is gonna be 18 y/o because yes

- mc and her parents live in a house that is located in a rather secluded area in the woods

- when word gets out about androids dominating humans and turning them into slaves- mc’s parents decide to live underground. mc is 3 y/o during this time. (the father is an artist/architect, this was originally just a project for himself). years pass with them being undetected. (it was 2038 when androids dominated humans)

- 15 years passed without them being detected and mc is 18 y/o (year is 2053)

- mc’s father scavenges for food and such once a month

- underground they still have a tv, tablet, and phones to keep up with how everything is going in detroit

- mc feels trapped after living underground for basically her entire life and learning second hand about androids, the revolution, etc

- mc starts doubting her parents and their reasons. she questions whether if there are bad androids out there who will snatch her up.

- mc asks her father if she can help him scavenge one day but he along with her mother are against that (this is on her birthday when she turns 18 y/o bcus she thinks she’s mature enough to)

- this causes a big argument between her parents and her and she voices her doubts to them- this ends with mc locking herself in her room. after awhile when it’s night time, her father visits her and apologizes for yelling but tells her she still can’t go up there because it’s too dangerous.

- mc hides her anger and lies to her father about her understanding. when it’s about midnight mc decides to sneak out and go above ground.

- mc is wandering in the woods mindlessly basking in everything- she kind of becomes careless (she doesn’t act cautious when wandering around). she maybe follows a bird she sees (owl) out of curiosity and nears markus and his crew (simon, north, and josh). they were having a picnic or just stargazing.

- simon hears rustling and light footsteps coming towards them so he alerts the others, he’s like, ‘do you guys hear that?’

- the others listen and do hear the footsteps and rustling coming rather close and quickly. all of them are tense (because they have experienced a lot of..attacks in the past so obviously they got their bars raised)

- so mc bumps into markus and everyone is surprised by mc’s sudden appearance

- mc stops in her tracks and looks at markus, it takes her a minute to really look at him bcus it’s dark and her human eyes are very poor at catching details

- she recognizes markus and is frozen. she also faintly recognizes his friends because they are also a big part of the android revolution (or so she’s been told by her parents).

- after a beat of silence north says, ‘a human?’ in a rather disgusted tone.

- josh observes you and asks out loud, ‘how can a human be this far out of the city?’

- north: ‘maybe it escaped from it’s owner or something.’

- after observing you, markus reaches out to you (you are still frozen and too scared to move) and places his hand on the nape of your neck. he realizes you don’t have a chip installed there to tell him who your owner is. (let’s say every human at birth has a chip installed to their nape to identify them and their owner)

- markus informs the others that mc doesn’t have a chip which startles them.

- north: ‘wait..it’s a fucking wild?’

- josh: ‘how could it live this long on it’s own if it is a wild?’

- (markus had his eyes on you the whole time) he asks you if there are more of you in the forest and you slowly shake your head no. they all know you are lying though.

- north: ‘there are more like it in the forest..how come we didn’t know about this?’

- josh: ‘this is pretty bad..if there are more wilds out here hiding this could damage the trust we built with the others. everyone will be outraged if they find out we let wilds slip under our noses.’

- simon approaches you slowly and asks again if there are more people like you out there

- when you shake your head again markus holds your chin between his thumb and index finger, tilting your head up so that you can look at him in the eyes.

- with a dark look in his eyes markus says, ‘don’t lie to us again kitten because i’m not in the mood to play nice. now, tell us the truth. are there more of you out there?’

- you are scared now and regret ever leaving the hideout. knowing it would be futile to lie again, you nod. (you are unable to say anything because your throat feels constricted).

- north: ‘where are they?’

- you don’t say anything because you don’t want to give your parents away. you continue to berate yourself for your stupid decisions.

- north sighs (clearly irritated by you not answering their questions immediately), ‘well? aren’t you going to speak? or can you not speak?’

- josh tries to calm north down, ‘intimidating it isn’t going to make it talk’

- north: why are you defending it? have you gone soft now?

- josh: [sighs] are we really going to do this? i’m just trying to tell you that yelling at it won’t get us anywhere-

- north: babying it isn’t getting us anywhere and i don’t see /you/ doing anything.

- simon steps in before the argument could get even more heated and pushes the two away from each other, “that’s enough. can you both not argue for once? now is not the time.”

- a little bit of pressure on your chin directs your attention from the two arguing to markus.

- markus: show us and i promise we won’t hurt you.

- mc thinks about this, ‘deal’ and realizes at that moment she doesn’t know what the hideout even looks like from the outside bcus she was so caught up on other things.

- mc makes a half baked plan to pretend to know where her hide out is, lead them, then find an opening to escape

- mc responds after a bit of pondering, (in a feeble voice), “okay.”

- north: [annoyed and slightly surprised] that’s it? that’s all it took?

- markus lets go of mc’s chin and gives mc a slight nod, telling her to show them the way

- before mc could take any step north butts in

- north: shouldn’t we restrain it first? tie it’s hands so it doesn’t do anything stupid?

- mc really dislikes north and is pretty scared of north out of all of them.

- markus notices your discomfort and shakes his head at north, “no. we don’t need to."

- north: [irritated] but she is a fucking wild- she’s dangerous-

- markus: [interrupts north + raises one of his hands up] i said, we don’t need to.

- north huffs in annoyance but doesn’t say anything else. part of you is satisfied by seeing north being put in her place.

- markus returns his attention to you and silently tells you w his eyes to lead the way.

- you turn your back towards markus and observe the vast amount of trees before you and walk in the direction you remember vaguely running from.

[lowkeyaesthvtic]

Not So Devilish Pirate

Pairings: poly!Sea Three (Harry x Uma x Gil)

Summary: In his own drunken stupor, Harry gets a little bratty towards his captain. He soon learns that is not a good idea.

Word Count: 3,489

Warnings: underage drinking/partying, choking, sub!Gil, brat!Harry, dom!Uma, this is also on AO3 so if you want all EXPLICIT tags then you can check it out there.

Author’s Note: Requested by @theamericanjewitch​ and follows smut dialogue prompts #8 and #79, prompts will be in bold

The music roared throughout the dorm halls. Pumping like the blood roaring through all of their veins. They never thought that, after the life they had lived so far, they could be so happy. So elated, so excited for what’s to come. So...so...so DRUNK. It started out tame at first, the three of them took a quick shot with all of the other pirates to celebrate not only their admission into Auradon Prep, but the permanent banishing of the barrier and their successful attempt at getting all of the pirates roomed in the same hall. Then, music started playing, pirates started playing ‘Vodka Pong,’ and the next thing they knew, Uma, Harry, and Gil were getting pretty close to shit-faced. 

Due to her incredibly high tolerance for alcohol, Uma doesn’t change much when she’s drunk. She may slur her words a bit or stumble on a stair step, but her mind remains relatively normal other than a pretty large increase of confidence. Anybody who thought that Uma was arrogant on the Isle likely got said impression because they either let Mal’s rumors about her stick in their head or their first meeting with her was while she was drunk. When Uma’s drunk, she truly sees herself as the walking sea witch goddess that Harry and Gil (mostly Harry) make her out to be on a daily basis. She can be found proudly dancing and singing on tables or challenging anybody and everybody to a shotgunning contest. Drunk or sober, she’s always young and wild, but when she’s drunk..she finally feels free. 

Contrary to most of the Lost Revenge crew, Gil doesn’t drink very often. He either doesn’t like the taste, doesn’t see a reason, or just isn’t in the mood for it. The bad news about this is that it causes such a low tolerance that the pirates never let it go. The good news? Gil is the best person to be around when you’re drunk. Either he’s sober and helps you get home safe or, if he’s drunk with you, he gets 100 times more protective and compassionate. At drunken times like this, you’ll find Gil stopping fights between the pirates, hyping up his partners as they engage in their own alcohol-driven stupor, or cheering up the crying drunks in a nearby bathroom. 

But Harry? Harry gets horny and bratty as all hell.

The three pirates were happily dancing in the middle of a joyous, chaotic clump. Uma swayed her hips, singing and laughing with her boyfriends sandwiching her. Normally, it’d be way too crowded for her taste. But tonight was a celebration, one that they’d never get to experience fully ever again. She flipped her long hair behind her and let any kind of problem fall away as she grabbed Gil’s hands and raised his arms to the air, waving them around. Harry danced behind her, taking in every curve and sway he saw. It was already enough that he saw her as this goddess with no physical flaw in sight on a normal day. But with the alcohol flowing through his veins like blood, it was hard to keep his hands off of her. He placed his hands on her hips and leaned in close, hoping she’d be able to hear him over the bumping music. “I hope you don’t mind me getting this close, Captain.” He whispered, leaving a couple of small pecks up her neck and looking up to Gil with a seductive smirk.

“Of course I don’t mind, especially when it’s the two of you.” Uma answered, leaning her head back against his chest as she began to grind her hips a bit closer to his. She took Gil’s hand and pulled it so he was mere inches away from her. With a grin, she pulled Gil in for a passionate, heated kiss. Their tongues quickly intertwined like a gorgeous pirate’s knot as Harry could do nothing but nibble Uma’s earlobe as his pants began to grow tight. Usually, it’d be easier for Harry to contain himself in public settings like these. But, with the rum flowing through his veins so rapidly and Uma and Gil looking as beautiful as they did, it didn’t take long for Harry’s fingers to find their way around Uma’s neck. His long digits roamed across her skin like a hand eager to turn the page of an old book. In response, Uma quickly turned around and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“You know the rules, Harry. No playing in public. Get control of yourself.” Harry quietly whined as he began to move his hand back down to her hips. As he lingered, however, a smirk spread across his face as his hand trailed up Uma’s thigh.

“Why don’t you make me, hm?” The pirate chuckled as he placed his hooked hand under Uma’s chin, tilting it up as he leaned in for a heated kiss. Before anything could get too passionate, however, Uma moved to his ear to whisper once more as she nibbled on his earlobe. 

“What did you just say? Don’t forget who’s in charge of you.” She let the words flow smoothly from his ear to his mind. Harry loved belonging to his Captain. But at the end of the day, he was a villain kid. He was a rebel. He did like to stir her up every once in a while. Sometimes, Uma didn’t mind that. But if she were to let go of her power over him, it’d be on her terms. He knew that. 

“You heard what I said, Uma. You want me to control myself so badly...why don’t you make me?” Harry snuck his fingernails into Uma’s thigh, leaving tiny little marks that would be there the rest of the night. Uma huffed out a quiet, evil laugh in response as she grabbed both Harry and Gil’s free hands, leading them away from the party.

The three of them stopped when they found an abnormally large closet. Once the light was turned on, the male pirates were shocked to find all of Uma’s special toys that she had previously kept on the Isle, along with some new ones they hadn’t used before.  Gil stood slightly confused but excited at the idea of a hot round with his loves. “Not that I’m complaining, but what are we doing in here?” Uma almost immediately pinned Harry against one of the empty shelves of the closet, quickly snaking her hand around his throat and putting it in a tight grip.

“If you’re going to act like a little brat then I’m going to treat you like a little brat. Strip. Now.” Uma hissed, seething with a sensual anger that made Gil’s pants grow tight. Harry slowly obliged, attempting to tease the pirates while still obeying his Captain’s order. Gil ate up every bit of it, taking in every pale crevice of Harry’s chest and nearly falling to his knees with hunger once Harry presented his thick cock. It was sexy for Uma, too, but she wasn’t thinking about that nearly as much as she thought about the punishment she was about to give him. “Good, now turn around. Hands on the top of the shelf, do not move them.” She barked to Harry before turning gently towards Gil. “Sunshine, can you hand me the red leather paddle from the black box? Our little devil needs to be punished.” 

“Of course, Captain. Can I...um..”

“Spit it out, sunshine.” 

“Can I watch? Please? I promise I’ll keep quiet.” He whimpered, looking hungrily at the both of them. He wanted that cock all inside his mouth, but he knew his Captain had other plans. Maybe if he could watch quietly, she’d let him have a reward. After all, it was only Harry that was acting bratty, right?

Uma smiled and pointed to an empty spot beside her and Harry. “Sure, sunshine. Kneel over there and you can watch all you want. But keep quiet, alright? I may need your help with our little brat here.” Gil walked over to Uma with the paddle in his hand, then knelt down on that empty spot beside the two of them after handing it to her. Harry waited in anticipation, his naked body slightly shivering from the cold air in the closet. But he didn’t worry about the cold air too much, he knew he’d be warming up any moment now. 

“A little bit of leather? Is that all you got?” He whispered out, his inner brat craving as much sensation as possible. His craving was suddenly satisfied as the paddle hit his back with a strong wack, leaving a sting on the area. Uma left little time for any more of his bratty remarks as she came back with another, and another, and another. Each smack on a completely different area of his backside, all increasing in intensity. With each hit of the paddle, Harry’s breath got heavier and his cock grew harder, leaving him near uncomfortable with his own arousal.

“You would want the wooden paddle, wouldn’t you? You dirty..dirty boy. The idea of a punishment is that you’re not supposed to enjoy it. I bet you’re wanting something more, aren’t you?” Uma cooed as she snaked her hand around and glided it down Harry’s chest to grip his rock hard cock. At her touch, Harry near bucked his hips into her hand, hoping she’d pump and stroke it fast enough to drive him mad. As quickly as her hand gripped it, Uma took her hand away and gave his ass another smack with the paddle. As she revelled in his pained hiss, she glided the leather down his back as she spoke. “Look at you, grinding against everything, you’re really desperate for it. Aren’t you? Normally, I’d let our little ray of sunshine here suck you dry. But, you had the nerve to break our rules.” Uma swiftly turned Harry around, his body near weak and limp from her touch. She pinned him up against the shelf, his naked cock lightly brushing her clothed bliss. He leaned his head back in a whine, begging to do more, to feel more.

“Uma, please. I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. Just give me something. Please.” He gasped, tempted to run a finger along her beautiful braids. But, at this point, he couldn’t risk getting punished even more than he already was. Uma scraped her nails along his chest, leaving long, red marks. She moved her hand up towards his face, but misled Harry as she put away the paddle on the shelf behind him.

 “Alright. I’ll give you something. Go stand against that pillar over there. Face me. Hands around the pillar behind your back.” She ordered, smirking as he eagerly followed. Uma looked down at Gil, hoping he didn’t feel forgotten or ignored as she focused on her devilish brat. He felt nothing close to ignored. His breath was hot and heavy and his pants clung tightly to his stiff cock. He loved to watch, especially his captain and first mate. Seeing Harry’s naked body tighten and turn red with every smack of Uma’s paddle made him near dizzy with pleasure. “You can stand up, Gil. We’re gonna give our brat here a little show.” Like an obedient dog, Gil stood right up and waited for what was to come. His eyes grew wide when he saw Uma pull a pair of black fuzzy handcuffs from the shelf behind him.

“A-are those for me?” He gulped. His last experience with bondage was ecstasy, but in his drunken state, he didn’t know if he’d be comfortable with something so physically restrictive.

“Oh, no. These are for him.” She sweetly spoke as she walked over and cuffed Harry to the pillar he was wrapped around. “Now I know you won’t be able to touch yourself. You’ll come when I tell you to, not any moment before. So lean back, relax, and enjoy the show.” Harry used every drop of will in his body to hold back any whines or groans, knowing that they’d only piss her off even more and make the punishment longer. All he had to do was lean back, watch the show, and keep quiet. It’d be like watching porn, right? Just porn without any masturbation. Easy. Simple.

Nope. Not easy. Not simple at all. Harry watched longingly as the two quickly engaged in another passionate kiss. This one was rougher, more heated, and filled to the brim with lust. Uma slowly removed her jacket and top, letting them fall to the floor as she revealed her ocean blue bralette to the blonde-locked pirate. She tilted her head to the side, giving him access to her neck as she swiftly took off his brown leather vest and orange tee. Gil took this access to his advantage, branding her brown skin with multiple nibbles and love bites. Gil leaned his head back and let his jaw drop just slightly as Uma began to leave hickeys on his chest, slowly snaking lower and lower. He was so needy. Needier than anybody could ever be. And since he behaved, he was going to get exactly what he wanted from his Captain. With swift and efficient hands, Uma took off his belt and threw it to the side as she knelt down and took off his pants. Gil’s cock sprung up eagerly, longing to be engulfed by Uma’s beautiful mouth.

There was something so beautiful to Harry about seeing Uma on her knees. Something so unbelievably about seeing her immediately devour his boyfriend’s cock, leaving long licks along the veins as she bobbed her head up and down. Gil was already drifting into a dizzy euphoria as her warm mouth took him in. If Harry were in his position, he’d be reaching his hand down to grip Uma’s braids tightly, begging her to go faster. But Gil could never do such a thing. Unlike Harry, Gil was never one to break his Captain’s rules on purpose. Harry and Uma both loved him for that. They felt a little guilty at first, seeing that they had someone they could constantly make putty in their hands. But after a while, they realized that letting go and doing whatever they told him to was what made him feel so great. Because it was Harry and Uma telling him to do it, and he loved them.

Due to his drunkenness, it didn’t take very long for Gil to explode inside Uma’s mouth. He reached his peak quickly after enduring the hellish heaven that was Uma’s warm mouth and wet tongue. She quickly swallowed every last drop and stood up, looking admirably at Gil as she did so. “Are you okay? Do you want me to get you water real quick? Harry can wait.” Through his high, Gil looked behind Uma at his raven-locked boyfriend. Harry had been practically humping the air, rubbing his thighs together at an attempt to get some sort of friction. Gil chuckled and shook his head, his smile peeking through amidst his post coital high.

“No he can’t.” He said, feeling a twinge of sympathy for the poor, horny pirate across from him. Uma jokingly rolled her eyes and gave Gil a small kiss on the cheek before walking over to where Harry stood. God, he was a mess. 

Harry eyed Uma’s near naked form up and down, taking in the way her curves were locked into the ocean blue underwear she wore. If he could get out of the cuffs she’d place him in, he’d find a way to indulge her right then and there. A small whine slipped through his throat and off his lips as his mind raced with thoughts of how Uma looked under the clad fabric. “God, you are killing me.” He said.

“You’ll get what you need soon. But first, I need you to admit something.” Uma tightly wrapped her fingers around Harry’s throat, forcing his head back against the pillar. “Admit that you’re a brat. Admit you’re a brat and promise that you’ll never break one of my rules again.” Another pained moan left Harry as he felt his head slightly dizzy itself from Uma’s grip, a feeling he worshipped. But not as much as he worshipped his Captain.

“Please, Captain. I’m a brat and I swear on my life I’ll never disobey you again. Please, Captain, I need you.” His voice rang out despite being hushed by the beautiful brown confine around his throat. At this point, Harry would do absolutely anything to get inside his Captain. Her mouth, her glistening sex, it didn’t matter. Uma, both proud of her submissive beauty and excited for what was to come, smiled sweetly and sauntered behind Harry to undo his restraints.

“See, baby boy, was that so hard?” She gently took Harry’s hands and led them to a desk in the back of the closet. She propped herself onto the desk and slowly spread her legs open, showing the small glisten that had been growing on her underwear. She was needy too, and now that Harry’s punishment was over, she could finally show it. Harry immediately cupped her face as he kissed her with all the fire he could. He missed the feeling of her skin against his. He longed for the feeling of her hand gripping and tugging at his hair. As he slowly broke the kiss, he looked down at the lacy, blue pair of underwear screaming to be removed and tossed to the side.

“Can I take these off, Captain?” He asked quietly, scared the question would cause another punishment. Uma smiled and placed her fingers under his chin.

“Don’t be shy, Harry. What’s my name?” Harry smirked as he ran his hands slowly up her smooth, naked thighs.

“Uma, please.” He spoke her name like he was praying to a shrine. With a nod from Uma, he slowly removed the underwear and brought the tip of his cock closer to her. The shine from her wetness entranced him more than any drop of alcohol ever could. He leaned down to mark her neck as he slowly entered her, wrapping himself in her ecstasy. Moans escaped them both as Harry started to thrust in and out of her, each movement heightening the pleasure even more. Their moans and slowly quickening breaths began to fill the closet, likely letting people at the party know exactly what was going on in this dim, abnormally large closet. 

Mere minutes pass before Harry’s pace picks up to a rough thrusting. Uma’s fingers are permanently interlocked in his hair, gripping and pulling at it as a form of praise for his perfect pleasure. Uma used her other hand to stabilize herself on the desk as she leaned her head back and lost herself in Harry’s thick, pounding cock. As she began to near her peak, she pulled Harry’s head down to lock his eyes with her as she attempted to speak through her persistent moans. “God, Harry, I’m close. Come for me, baby. Come for me like you know who’s in charge.” It didn’t take long for Harry to obey that order. He thrusted into her rough and deep, making sure she came hard and long before pulling himself out of her. His orgasm came powerfully and fast as he let his release cover Uma’s chest and stomach, screaming out her name like he knew she wanted.

Harry leaned up to the closest shelf, attempting to balance himself despite the dizziness and wobbliness of his legs. For just a moment, the two stayed in their spots filling the room only with the sounds of their breaths. “Wait...shit..there’s no towels.” Harry muttered as he finally caught his breath. Uma’s eyes widened as she realized the situation the two were stuck in. They both looked at each other, hoping their minds would click on a solution. Then, as if they were psychically connected, the pair landed their eyes on Gil. By now he had fully redressed himself, and was knelt down on the ground once more, watching it all go down.

“Hey, Gil, there’s a bathroom somewhere down and on the right. Do you think you could bring us some towels?” Like an energized bunny rabbit, Gil jumped up to his feet and smiled.

“Yeah, sure. Do you guys need anything else? You two are going to need some serious aftercare.” 

The two laughed as they noticed the other’s exhausted euphoria. Uma locked eyes with Harry as she responded. “We can go back to our place if you guys want to. We’ve got blankets and water and stuff. And I could use a shower.”

Harry had trouble holding back a low chuckle as he replied. “Mind if we join in?” To which Uma narrowed her eyes and regained enough to throw a seductive glare at the not-so-devilish pirate. 

“Only if you do as you’re told.”

[foxofsunholt]

How would the ros act if due to time travel schenanigens they met their children before they got together with the mc? What would they say to the child and the mc? How would they feel?

This ask was really interesting, thank you for sending it in! I kept trying to make it more light-hearted, but in the FOS-world, the idea of fate is very strong—any one of these characters confronted with the idea of what their future would assume that’s what’ll happen 100%. For some characters, the implication of that is too great–the extreme disconnect between the idea of them eventually having a family against what their current situation is…is just too…jarring? It should be a hopeful sign, but it would wack them in the face like a raw fish, esp. pre-getting together with the MC in which they’re just ripe with emotional issues.

Anyway my point is this really ran away from me ajskhdkajdh

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━      

    Colette is thrilled to meet her parents, but she keeps her lips sealed about the nature of her birth. She is blonde and smiles without shame–she looks so much like Adelaide that a connection can no longer be denied. Adelaide hugs her daughter, weeps into her arms at the very idea—that one day her life is happy. Colette is eager to know The Fox of Sunholt beyond what she has heard in stories; to get to live through the legacy of her parents. Adelaide will not discuss the logistics, but she pulls you aside and speaks with excited whispers. Look at what this means, she says, it means we win. Colette is hope, and everything Adelaide could have wished for and more.

But Adelaide has never spoken of her affections for you, and with news of your child in the future, she concerns herself with never speaking of it. Colette tells you of a great love-story–yours. She speaks with reverence and her words feel like a lie. You ask her why she’s never told Adelaide about these stories (which you still don’t think are real). She grows very quiet; she reminds you a lot of yourself like that, as she tries to make herself small. She said she doesn’t want to hear it, your daughter confesses. You feel her pain as she tries to hide her love for the both of you away, for Adelaide’s sake.

The future can be bright and beautiful, she’s addressing the people of Sunholt and for the first time you notice the way her lips quiver when she lies. Colette is just a symbol of a future Adelaide pretends to believe in.

When faced with the truth, the princess cowers.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Theodore and Theodosia know better than to incur their mother’s ire, so they only tell you about the circumstance of their being. It’s clear they’re uncomfortable around Camille. Confused, you ask them why. It’s Theo who answers, picking at the dirt under his nails. She’s just really..different. But the magic the twins use is hard to hide, their techniques proof of secrets passed through Camille’s family. The idea of this ‘future’ unnerves her. The thought, the mere idea, that her life turns out okay is horrifying. What had all her pain been for? What then is the point of all her work? And how–how in the name of Seven is this magical future supposed to happen? As far as she’s concerned, their future is not hers. Vehemently she denies it, and them.

And in doing so, she pulls from you. She might run, one day, if her loyalty to Adelaide did not anchor her to this journey. Everything is just something waiting to go wrong–and knowing there is a life out there with you–that is something she’d never be able to accept the inevitable ruining of.

You get to know your children well, but they don’t recognize their mother. And you find yourself knowing Camille less.

I wanted to set the world on fire, she tells you, standing over ash and rubble, now what?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Ares runs with his arms open to hug you immediately, and then to Mars. He doesn’t think about the implications of being so open about his parents, he’s just happy to see the two of you. It is a shock to see the brave warrior he knows to be his father suddenly a stiff and grumpy man, but his boundless energy is enough to cancel out even Mars’ awkwardness–most of the time, at least. Mars himself struggles to bring the topic up with you, or Ares. He insists this is some trick, he tries to draw away from you but he misses you too much when you are apart. He has not accepted that Ares is his son, or that there is some future with you–but he takes it in stride, best he can.

One day, when Ares is fast asleep, Mars gathers the courage to speak. What does it mean? He asks and you shrug. Might he be an impostor? You shake your head, Ares is too honest for that. And what do you think? Do you—do you really believe that we–that there’s— Words catch in his throat and confidence dies on his tongue.

There is an idea of the future that Mars has always had. It is one lived alone in a world of blacks & whites. There is no place for love in his future, but he asks you if you’ll allow him to be wrong, just this once.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Kai stumbles into the group with a bloody nose and a crooked grin. He smiles the way Faith does, with mischief behind his teeth. You make the connection instantly, though he denies sharing any details of his parents. Your stomach twists as you eventually piece together who the other-half is in this equation. Me? You shout one night, dangling your feet into a cold lake with Kai silently by your side. He frowns but nods and draws a finger to his lips. If you tell her, she’ll run—then I’ll poof outta existence. That’s how future stuff works, right? He’s astute, he gets that from you.

The future is scary, that’s what Faith tells you. She says it’s her biggest fear and then laughs as though it’s merely a joke. Behind her veneer of flirtation and confidence there is a woman who is so deeply afraid and you gather that she knows. You don’t talk about it, or who Kai is. It would ruin something, you think, and even Kai feels it.

One day, he tells you, you two will be really happy, I promise. I’m not gonna get in the way of you guys gettin’ there. Then he pauses, never one for physical affection he succumbs to the urge to hug you. I love you both and I’m sorry.

As it turns out, even without the conversation, Faith runs.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Lucy is nonchalant about it. Sid is a little less. A kid! As far as he’s concerned, it’s great news. He hugs her first hard and tight and she has to pry him away. Then he hugs you, with just as much force. He laughs loud and he holds you close. It’s great, he says this over and over again as though he’s trying to convince himself of it. Lucy isn’t very talkative, you think she gets her need of privacy from you. Sid is louder than normal, forcing out a friendliness that’s uncharacteristic even for him.

This means we make it out okay, he says, it also means we’ve got somethin’ special to be fightin’ for–not just an idea. But what does it mean for you two? You’re friends, naturally, but a child? Sid seems unconcerned with speaking of the logistics here. Tactfully, he avoids the topic altogether and tries his best to act unchanged with the knowledge.

It’s weird, Lucy tells you, seeing you both like this. When you quirk your brow at her, she elaborates. Unhappy, I mean.

Sid is at his ship, your knife pressed to his throat. it’s strange, ain’t it? He says, arms thrown up in the air, you’d think knowing it’ll all be okay would make this a lot easier, wouldn’t it?

It’s just funny! Lucy groans in frustration, you denying her a mug of ale, you two are supposed to be like gross and– she presses the tips of her fingers together, stammering through poorly attempted kissing noises. –but it’s nothing like that!

You run your hand over where Sid’s blood has burnt through the steel of your blade. Fate is wrong, Sid told you once, a lifetime ago, destiny’s never set in stone–life’d be too easy if it were.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Juno and Bora ambush you in the words, snickering behind hand-crafted fox masks. Yoon regales you with an old tale about two trickster spirits, Juno can’t keep herself from jumping in and finishing the story–which spurs Bora hitting her sister behind her head, which then results in Juno retaliating and what once felt like a threat against your life has dissolved into childish bickering between two siblings. Needless to say, they’re bad at keeping secrets.

You know what this means, you let Yoon’s suggestive joke drift through the air. The Fey population is dwindling.

But it all feels like a joke, perhaps because Yoon takes nothing with seriousness. His children are amused by his apathy for only so long, before they turn to you, finding that your pessimism is equally as unamusing.

The world’s a lot less sad in the future, Juno tries to tell you, Colette and Theo and I collect frogs from the lake behind the castle and then ‘Dosia gets really mad ‘cause Theo puts them in her bag but you an’ Dad always laugh! Not at ‘Dosia, ‘cause that would be mean, but when we tell you about our day you get like— she mimics a smile, you shoot her a look of confusion.

Forget it, Bora interjects, no one ever tells us what it was like during the war, it’s like everyone’s trying to…

Hide it in ‘Dosia’s bag!

…Metaphorically.

Yeah, duh, not really, ‘cause that’s where the frogs go.

They tell you stories of the future, of their friends and the school you will help to build. Yoon sits and listens to them one day, his face unreadable. There is a conversation to be had, you and Yoon are due for a lot of those. In lieu of one he takes you to that lake behind the castle—which is not a lake at all but a Rot-stained swamp. He presses his palm against the corrupted trunk of a nearby tree, letting it burn through his skin, blood tricking down the bark. Imagine a child playing here and tell me it doesn’t sound like a lie.

You have a hard time telling him any different.

[natsubeatsrock]

"Why do you hate Nalu fans asking for angst?"

Who actually believed I was done talking smack about Nalu?

I feel like I haven't been clear enough on this. Normally, I'd say something like this because fandom ignores my arguments about something. While that's not untrue here, looking back on my discussions of the Nalu fandom's desire for canon situations of angst, I feel like I can be a bit more clear and direct as to why I don't like it.

A lot of what I've said makes it seem as though I don't like or appreciate angst as a whole. Sure, I say I don't hate angst, but I worry that my explanations make it sound like a cover to rag on Nalu for even potentially having angst. I want to explain the issue I have with the cries for Nalu angst in a way that shows I can appreciate angst.

Let's start with a couple of ships outside of Fairy Tail. The first is one that my long-time fans may recognize. In an earlier rant from around the time that Fairy Tail was ending, I briefly touched on Beauty and the Beast and how Belle and the Beast transformation is something Nalu fans wanted out of Mashima's treatment of the END situation. However, I hinted at how their ship is an example of good angst and I want to talk about it more.

At the beginning of the movie, Belle and the Beast start not liking each other much. However, a change happens when she is told to leave after breaking the Beast's one rule. Before she can get too far from the palace, Belle is saved from a pack of wolves by the Beast. As she's cleaning his wounds, they start to come to more of an understanding of each other. As shown by lyrics of and scenes shown during the song "Something There", they start to come to an understanding of each other that leads to romantic feelings. 

By the time we get to "Beauty and the Beast", it's clear that they both have feelings for each other. Despite the Beast confirming he loves her, we don't get a confession from Belle until after he supposedly dies. However, it's important to remember that her confession comes off the heels of a defense of the Beast from villagers, the rest of their relational progression and the timer set by the falling rose petals. Her confession comes just as the last petal falls from the enchanted rose. In other words, she came to truly love him at the last possible moment and it may not have mattered if he died at that moment. Of course, he does live and they can be a couple.

The second example comes from one of my favorite anime, Toradora. (I'd use Clannad for a similar reason, but I know this one off-hand better.) It's a bit of an understatement to say that Taiga Aisaka and Ryuji Takasu start on the wrong foot. It's established fairly early on that much of their initial goals are to get the other's best friend to end up with them. However, as they spend time together, they end up growing closer to each other. As early as episode 2, Ryuji goes from annoyed at not having enough rice because of Taiga's presence to disappointed at having too much rice in her absence. But then, Ryuji gets into an accident and it becomes clear that Taiga has stronger feelings for him that she's letting on.

As the series progresses, we see evidence of them growing closer together and the idea of them becoming a couple is made to seem more realistic. It's not that we can't tell if they like each other at this point; it's that we're not sure how things will play out. It turns out that, during their class trip, Taiga takes a spill of her own and unknowingly confesses to Ryuji. He outright confirms that he has feelings of his own but struggles to tell her how he feels. A bunch of shenanigans happens between then and the end of the series, but they do end up together at the end of the series.

I explain the stories of the couples in this way for an important reason. In each of these stories, the angst does draw people closer together. However, there is a sense that the relationship was already progressing that way, to begin with. Angst was used as the medium to draw feelings out of characters they might have already been on track to have. Chances are that they could have gotten into their relationship without the angst. However, it works very well to see their relationship progress as part of the resolution to the tension of the story. Depending on how a writer spins it, it can work well.

Mashima did not do this with Nalu. Not he didn’t do it well with Nalu. It didn’t happen.

What I will say is that there wasn't a lack of moments that could have been used to draw out romantic feelings for each other. Here's a list of a few moments I can think of off the top of my head after the Galuna Island arc (at which point they're more familiar with each other):

Lucy being captured by Gajeel during the Phantom Lord arc.

Natsu on the brink of losing against Gajeel, also Phantom Lord.

Lucy getting captured during the Edolas arc.

Lucy saying "it's more fun when we're together" on Tenrou Island.

After the Naval Battle in the Grand Magic Games.

Lucy getting captured (again) during the Grand Magic Games.

The epilogue of the Tartarus arc. 

Natsu realizing the guild was dissolved at the beginning of the Avatar arc.

Natsu almost dying after Aquarius came back.

Natsu almost dying (again) after fighting Gray.

The end of the fight with Acnologia.

There are a couple of other moments I probably could have added, especially from the anime and the sequel, but these are some of the moments that Mashima could have used to bring Natsu and Lucy closer to a trajectory of a romantic relationship. It's even canonically hinted during a few of these moments that he could have done exactly that.

However, the resolution for each of these moments came and went. Natsu and Lucy were friends before they happened and they didn't seem to be anything more than friends after them. I don't feel as though there's any real reason to think that anything else could cause some well of romantic emotions that has yet to be untapped to spring.

This has been outright confirmed for me by Mashima's writing of the final arc of the main series. Natsu nearly dies in front of Lucy. Twice. And the most we get from the whole thing is a "thanks for helping me get in the guild" a year later? I know Evergreen mentions that she might like him, but that's shot down and ignored almost as soon as it was brought up.

Are we supposed to believe Nalu would have stopped a rampage from END? Or that, even if it did, Mashima would use the opportunity to make clear that Natsu and Lucy did have romantic feelings for each other? Chances are, we'd get a moment where Natsu remembers the importance of his friends and remember who he is. Are we shocked that this was literally what happened in canon when he did lose control of himself? Or how Dragon Cry did a similar thing, despite prizing Lucy more than other members of the guild?

At this point, I guess someone could look at this and come to the conclusion that Nalu was just a product of Mashima's bad writing. Nalu is romantic but was handled poorly. If Mashima were a better writer, this would have handled better. And as someone who recognizes that, despite having great ideas, Mashima's not a great writer and isn't always able to make them work in the best ways possible and has even made a similar argument with Gruvia...

NO!

Not even a little yes.

At least my argument on Gruvia is couched in a recognition that it's the only ship of its kind that Mashima's done. (People who compare Gruvia to Reina and Musica get the bullet.) I don't see the things I'm arguing isn't great about Gruvia in any other Fairy Tail ship. You can't make the same argument with Nalu and angst. If you do, you're not paying attention.

In just the last arc, we got two clear examples of this in Gajevy and Zervis. Not just in the "you could argue that this is what Mashima was building these ships up towards throughout the series" sense that's very real about both of these ships. In the current events of the arc, he advanced both relationships after they had angsty situations. Gajeel confessed his love to Levy as he was almost killed by Bradman. Mavis and Zeref came together just as he was defeated and they ended up dying together. 

Depending on how you interpret it, Gruvia also got the same thing in the same arc. Jerza has had a similar thing going around it with the Tower of Heaven and Nirvana arc. Fan interpretations of plenty of other favorite ships in Fairy Tail are near dependent on the idea that a person came to love someone more after something tragic happened surrounding them, including a number of my favorite ships. Heck, Mashima did this with all three of the ships involving his main characters in Rave Master to some degree or another.

As much as I don't love every aspect of Mashima's writing, this isn't a symptom of that. The fact is that Mashima didn't use ANY moment that Natsu or Lucy have seen the other in angsty situations to show clear romantic feelings for each other. No kisses, no confession, no anything. Given that he's done that with arguably every main ship he's shown interest in both his big series, I can't help but think that Mashima's either trying something completely different with this ship or isn't ever bringing them closer to being a couple. Either way, I don't see how Mashima putting them in one more magical situation of angst is somehow going to push them over the proverbial edge and make them canon at this stage in the series.

In Conclusion:

I don't hate angst. Nalu is just wack.

[artificialqueens]

things I wanna say to you (but I'll just let you live) (branjie) - holtzmanns, writworm42

A/N: In which Holtz and Writ have no self control, none whatsoever. Sorry but also, not sorry? Shoutout for BarbieHytes for the goading to write this. Title from ‘Cinnamon Girl’ by Lana Del Rey. Thank you Multi for betaing <3

Maybe scrolling through her phone one last time before the opening number is a stupid choice.

But Vanessa’s feet are already pinching in her heels, damn it, her corset restricting her breaths, and sometimes a quick scroll through her Instagram stories can be enough to distract her until the sweet adrenaline of performing begins to hit like a drug.

Except that this time, the blood rushing through her veins when she taps on the first available story isn’t because of the impending opening number.

Brooke Lynn, all scruff with stubble growing in (the same stubble that would scratch at her skin when they were together, whenever Brooke nuzzled her face against her), in a turtleneck and a damn fine leather jacket with that dumb hat that she’s begun to wear recently. Not that Vanessa would know, because she most definitely does not check Brooke’s Instagram all that often. Nope.

Vanessa nearly drops her phone because Brooke still looks damn good, still makes her heart race as if no time has passed at all, and why wouldn’t it? When they fall back into familiar patterns whenever they’re in close proximity to each other?

The opening number feels like a haze, Vanessa having to work her brain twice as hard to hit all of her cues. She can’t help the way that her eyes keep flitting amongst the crowd, the sea of faces that are blurring together because maybe, just maybe, she’ll be able to spot Brooke.

Vanessa feels even more antsy than usual as she waits for her solo number, making a ruckus fooling around with Kim while she films her Instagram stories for the night because she needs something, anything to distract her. Because Brooke’s here, Brooke’s right here. Not in a faraway city, only showing up on Vanessa’s screen once in a while but actually here, in the venue, on the other side of the heavy stage curtains.

Here. In the flesh. At Werq the World.

She’d be stupid to think that Brooke’s here only for her, because she’s friends with most of the girls on the cast, and really, would she come to the show just for an ex?

Disregarding the fact, of course, that Brooke had done just that when their season had started airing. Came to one of Vanessa’s gigs.

Not that it matters.

But it’s making Vanessa twitchy. Feels real weird. She doesn’t want to give in to the tiny sliver of hope that’s running through her heart, taunting her, bugging her, telling her that maybe, just maybe, something will happen. Again. Like it sometimes does.

But she needs to temper her expectations down, bring them to a normal level before she ends up five shots in and posting more stupid shit on her Instagram stories that sober her won’t able to take down fast enough.

She sends up a quick prayer to both the Lord and Rihanna when the stage lights for her number start to flash, letting the bass beats of the music activate her muscle memory. After so many rehearsals and shows Vanessa feels like she can do the routine in her sleep, and it’s for the best, really, ‘cause she’s still thinking of that picture and that damn scruff and how much Brooke looks like she’s glowing. Not that she ever isn’t.

It isn’t until the final bow of the show that Vanessa spots her. Freezes. ‘Cause Brooke’s there, right there, and how didn’t Vanessa see her before when she’s sitting smack dab in a row in the floor seats beside Jason and Steve, the latter two who look like proud parents while they clap and whistle? Brooke looks right at her and Vanessa can feel the breath hitch in her throat the way it always does because something about Brooke’s gaze is always so electrifying, managing to reach the inner workings of her soul without even trying to, exposing whatever she wants to hide.

Brooke’s sitting a little too far back to be able to tell, but Vanessa swears that she sees her wink. Maybe Vanessa has terrible vision or perhaps Brooke has some sort of wack facial twitch, but the sight nonetheless makes her heart bubble up in her chest.

The way Brooke has Vanessa wrapped around her finger without even doing anything should be considered absolutely criminal.

Vanessa usually likes to stay in drag for a little while even after her gigs finish, never one of those girls to immediately tug everything off. Though today she’s feeling restricted, antsy, wanting to free her tuck and pull off her paddings and let her scalp breathe from the wig cap. She can’t find her makeup remover in the mess of her bags, (she thought that she’d packed them in her foundation makeup bag at the last tour stop, damn it), and is about to bother Yvie for an extra bottle, heading down the backstage hallway when-

“Shit! Sorry, didn’t mean to bump-”

Vanessa’s words are caught in her throat because the hands that grab her upper arms to steady her have too familiar of a grip. The light scent of cologne, the small laugh, the gentle squeeze from the hand of her bicep make her brain put together the pieces before she’s even able to formulate a sentence.

“Hey.”

Brooke’s voice is soft. Warmer than Vanessa had expected it to be. But she’s here, in the flesh. Out of drag and looking oh so cozy in her little leather jacket and Vanessa wants to do nothing more than to wrap her arms around Brooke’s waist and snuggle into it.

“Hey.” The word leaves her on a laugh that is slightly on edge, because her heart is pumping a lot faster than she wants it to.

Vanessa hadn’t been expecting to see Brooke so soon, hanging around backstage like she’s part of the cast herself. But at the same time, she can’t find it in herself to complain.

“Hey.” Brooke nods, a smile ghosting at the corners of her mouth. So this had been her plan all along - show up and surprise her, watch her get caught off guard, probably hand her a gift or two-

As if on cue, Brooke hands her a bouquet of flowers. “You look pretty.”

Vanessa snorts. “Pretty, huh?”

“The prettiest.”

That sneaky little fucker.

“You know you predictable, right?” Vanessa rolls her eyes with a smile on her lips as she accepts the bouquet, bringing it to her nose and breathing in the intoxicating scent of roses and baby’s breath. Brooke only laughs.

“Didn’t stop you from looking like you saw a ghost when you came back here.”

“Shut up and come with me to my dressin’ room already if you wanna talk, I gotta take this shit off.”

There’s no innuendo in the statement; after God knows how many hours of sweat and foundation and tucking tape, if Vanessa doesn’t get out of drag she might as well retire now, because every inch of her will have been ruined by this tour. And anyway, Brooke’s seen her naked more times than she can count, knows Vanessa’s de-dragging routine by heart. There’s nothing sexual about it, no scandal at all.

That doesn’t mean that Vanessa’s able to calm her heartbeat to a normal pace as she leads Brooke deeper backstage. Or that she won’t quiet her footsteps to crawl past the dressing rooms of the other queens like a teenager sneaking out past curfew.

Unfortunately, Twinkle Toes behind her seems to have other plans, her heavy footsteps like thunder on the hallway’s concrete floors.

“You an asshole, you know that?” Vanessa hisses as she pulls Brooke into her dressing room just in time to avoid Asia’s shit-eating grin whipping out from behind her door.

“You love me.” Brooke responds by instinct, but the wince on her face is palpable as she realizes what she’s said. Somehow, the sight is even worse for Vanessa than if she’d just let the taunt go.

You love me. You love me.

Vanessa loves her. And she knows that Brooke loves her too. But they can’t say it, not like they mean it, because they’re not together, they’re not a couple, they’re not doing that anymore-

“Your makeup is starting to melt off.” Brooke says softly, looking down at her feet. It’s a lie, Vanessa knows it’s a lie, she can see right in the mirror in front of her that her mug is perfectly fine. But she plays along anyway, just to break the silence.

Besides, she really does need to take it off, anyway.

“So, what brings you here on this fine last night of the tour?” Vanessa pops her tongue as she grabs her makeup wipes from the counter, pulling one out a little harder than she needs to and cursing under her breath when a chain of three more wipes follow, still attached to each other.

“Didn’t have anything booked, thought I’d surprise you.” Brooke shrugs, reaching forward and breaking off the chain for Vanessa, though still not looking at her as she stuffs the other three back into the box.

Now’s the part where it gets awkward. Vanessa can ignore Brooke, focus on what she needs to be doing, or she can strike up a conversation, ask for validation about her performance, ask how Brooke is doing.

She chooses the latter.

“Saw your whole Dumbass Square thing happenin’, looks good.”

“Dundas.” Brooke laughs. “Dundas Square.”

“Whatever.” Vanessa rolls her eyes as she wipes her lips clean, her boy-mouth fading into the rest of her still-made-up face. “Seriously, it’s a nice ad. Did you design it?”

Brooke shakes her head and hands Vanessa another wipe. “Nah. My web-designer did, and I got final approval. It’s thanks to him I even have that campaign, to be honest.”

“Bitch, don’t be modest.” Vanessa snorts, the highlight on her cheeks disappearing as she wipes it away, too. “You the RuPaul of Canada, you been knew that for a long time. If you ain’t got Squarespace you got a million other things tryna light Toronto up with your face.”

Brooke blushes but Vanessa catches the smile on her face in the mirror nonetheless, and can’t help but smile, too.

Brooke is so cute when she’s trying to be modest. Always has been.

“Alright, so you wanna get outta here when I’m back in boy clothes, grab drinks with the rest of us?” Vanessa blinks the sting away after she pulls off her lashes, turning to Brooke to wait for an answer.

Instead, all she gets is a weird look.

“What? Did I forget-oh, fuck.” Vanessa notices a smudge of eyeliner on the underside of her eye, probably something that she forgot to remove and then fucked up when she was taking off her lashes. She grabs another wipe and tries to get at it, but it’s too difficult to reach, and she only winds up poking herself in the eye. She’s about to give up, cuss the wipe out and just resign herself to going out looking like she’s lost a bar fight with a Mac counter girl, when she feels a hand on her shoulder and breath in her ear.

“Get up on the counter, I can take it off for you.” Brooke offers, her voice quiet but clear. There’s no innuendo in the offer; Vanessa has to get that spot off anyway, and she’ll be damned if Brooke ever lets her go out looking like a fool (really, with Brooke’s outfits, that’s her job anyway). No sir, no innuendo at all.

But then Brooke’s face is close, her stubble visible and sharp smell of aftershave still present, her lips pursed in effort as she tries to help Vanessa out. And her eyes, God, Vanessa had forgotten just how intense her eyes are up close, especially when she’s focused, and yet they still manage to look so soft, so kind-

“What?” Brooke locks eyes with Vanessa, her brow creasing in concern despite the smile curling up in the corners of her mouth, betraying the fact that she knows exactly what’s going on, exactly what’s going to happen.

Vanessa’s never really been good at holding herself back.

“You got somethin’ on your mouth.”

Brooke’s lips taste like chapstick, the sugary flavour trying but failing to cover the smoky tang of tobacco underneath it.

“You started smokin’ again.” Vanessa whispers into Brooke’s mouth. Brooke only gasps in response as Vanessa takes the moment to trail the tips of her fingers down Brooke’s waist and over her hips, wrapping her fingers in the belt-loops of her jeans and yanking her closer.

“But that’s okay, baby,” Vanessa continues, kissing and sucking along Brooke’s neck as she grinds her hips into the older queen’s body, smiling at the hardness she meets there, “You get so stressed, don’t you?”

“Uh-huh. ” Brooke moans out as Vanessa licks along her collarbone. Vanessa brings her hands down again to cup Brooke’s ass, hears the way it makes Brooke gasp. “So stressed, Papi, fuck.”

Brooke’s hands are roaming Vanessa’s body so hungrily that she can hardly tell where they even are anymore, making goosebumps rise on her flesh as Brooke’s nails scrape in every direction on her skin. It’s almost enough to make her lose focus completely, but she pulls herself back, staying present enough to squeeze Brooke’s ass tightly just as the taller queen reaches her hips.

“You wanna be my stress relief tonight, baby boy?” Brooke’s whisper is almost sinful in Vanessa’s ear, her thumbs stroking along the curve of Vanessa’s hipbones in a way that makes her squirm, her tuck becoming increasingly uncomfortable with every passing moment.

“Yes, daddy, please.” Vanessa grunts and then Brooke’s letting go, falling to her knees, looking up at Vanessa with those fucking eyes of hers.

“Alright, baby, let daddy undo your tuck for you, then we’ll get you nice and warmed up, okay?” Vanessa is too far gone to do anything but grunt in agreement to Brooke’s offer, her mind entirely focused on what’s to come as Brooke makes quick work of the panties and tape keeping her cock hidden. Within moments, Brooke is cupping Vanessa’s bare dick, fingers working in small, deft movements to stroke and stimulate her balls. With her other hand, she grabs Vanessa’s cock and begins to stroke the shaft, her pace slow and grip firm as Vanessa begins to harden in her hand.

“My, my, you’ve been pent up for a while, haven’t you?” Brooke teases as a bead of precum begins to leak over the head of Vanessa’s dick. “Poor baby.”

“Just suck me off already.” Vanessa growls. Back when they were together, the demand would have earned her a sharp spanking and a few more minutes of stroking just to torment her, to get her right on the edge before Brooke would finally give in. But they’re not together, and Brooke isn’t in charge, and they’ve only got a few minutes before Asia will no doubt knock at their door and tell them to hurry up in there, or the bus will leave without them.

Well. Without Vanessa.

‘Them’ has already been left behind.

She pushes the thought out of her mind as Brooke wraps the tip of Vanessa’s cock in her mouth, swirling her tongue around and letting her eyes close like her dick is the most delicious thing she’s ever tasted.

It’s impressive. Even after almost a year, Brooke still makes Vanessa come undone with such an ease that it seems like second nature to her. She pulls out every trick, every technique Vanessa’s ever seen her perform, all the ones she likes best, until Vanessa’s about to come, she’s about to come, and then Brooke is off of her cock and spinning her around, teasing her open and whispering her to wait a second, hold it, don’t you dare come, don’t you dare come, not without daddy’s permission, do you understand?

Even after all this time, Brooke still slides in easily, and it doesn’t take long for her to need to pull out again.

“Come for me, baby boy.”

Vanessa obeys without any thought, without any real will, because she can’t help it, not with Brooke.

They grab paper towels from the dressing room’s attached bathroom, cleaning up the mess in a flurry of giggles and peppered kisses, because Vanessa can’t keep herself away from Brooke anymore (could she ever?), not even if she tries. It’s like they’re two schoolboys hurrying to get rid of the evidence that betrays some mischief that they’ve pulled, like this is something they can share a gaze over without having to use any words.

Vanessa’s pulling a tank top back on when there’s a bang on the dressing room door, one that makes Brooke’s eyes light up with mirth as Asia yells on the other side of the door. “Vanjie, if you don’t hurry up, imma catch the plane back to LA all by my damn self. Leaving you and your horny ass behind.”  

Brooke’s hand is covering her mouth to hold in her laughter but a snort escapes nonetheless, one that makes Vanessa crack up in response and soon they’re giggling, ignoring the incessant pounding on the door.

“You too, Brooke, we know you’re in there!”

“You must be thinking of someone else.” Brooke’s voice is comically high pitched, nearly making Vanessa howl with laughter. “No Brooke here.”

“Jesus Christ.” Asia grumbles and Vanessa watches as the handle of door jiggles before the door itself flies open, nearly off of its hinges, Asia’s face looking like she’s the cat that’s just gotten the cream.

“Please, bitch, we know you wouldn’t leave without us.” Vanessa rolls her eyes but acquiesces, throwing the rest of her drag haphazardly into her bags so that they can follow Asia out. Brooke falls into step beside her, helping her pack up her things like second nature.

Vanessa ignores how well the two of them work in tandem.

Brooke grabs one of Vanessa’s bags without her even having to ask, hoisting it over her shoulder as if it’s no trouble at all before grabbing her hand in her own. As if they’re a unit again, two heartbeats in sync with one pulse, along the same wavelengths. As if they’ve never left it in the first place.

It’s moments like these that always hurt the most when Vanessa looks back at them, when the clock hits the early hours of the morning and her blood alcohol level is too damn high. When all she can think is why why why, because they work, they really fucking work together and why can’t this be them all the time? Isn’t it what they deserve to have?

But she’ll take them as they come.

Right now, all Vanessa can think about is how warm their intertwined grasp is, how she can feel the pulse in Brooke’s thumb pounding against her palm.

The way that Brooke squeezes her hand as they leave the venue makes Vanessa wonder if Brooke can feel her pulse, too.

Vanessa doesn’t follow the rest of the queens for drinks that night, or follow Asia to the airport for their ridiculous early morning flight back to LA. Really, she should have known what was going to happen ever since Brooke came with her to her dressing room.

No, she wakes up curled up against Brooke’s side, a strong arm around her waist and a gentle kiss pressed to her neck when she begins to stir.

The sporadic beams of sunlight that peek through the dark clouds in the window match the waves of uncertainty and confusion that always run through her veins whenever it comes to Brooke. How she doesn’t know what they are, probably will never know. Because that’s not how they function.

It doesn’t stop her from nestling closer into Brooke’s arms, into the warmth and safety and security that feels good, even if it’s temporary. Even if it’ll be gone the next time she catches a flight and they’re in different places and Brooke’s probably picking up more trade and not even thinking twice about Vanessa. When Vanessa won’t be able to stop herself from scrolling through her camera roll, unable to keep herself from stopping at pictures of them, the longing in her heart undoubtedly increasing with each and every shot.

She’ll still do this again. Every time. It’s always worth it. Always with Brooke.

[cyanpeacock]

Realtalk(tm): The Continued Brainprocessing of Fucky Shit

it’s a long one boys but they all are atm

like jinkies scoob i have been Avoiding So Much with les drogues. avoiding so much like, wow, shit, I Feel So Empty Around People Who Were In My Life. but yes, very necessary to dissociate from this shit for a period while i adjusted to the possibility of, oh, wait, this really is My Apartment? this... i can Live Here without being Disturbed or Attacked? still adjusting. but without les drogues this time.

im continually coming to terms with like... ok, so, i have been and sometimes still like... engage in emotionally and physically abusive behaviour towards my own body, and to other bodies around me? 

and also, i am coming to terms with, this does not strictly mean i am An Abuser Forever full stop (i.e. Bad Person, Irredeemable, Disgusting, Abhorrent, Should Be Euthanised, etc).

this is reflective of, emotional and physical abuse has been so normalised to me as a young individual, that i have been repeating patterns of behaviour i saw routinely growing up, not even understanding why that kind of behaviour is hurtful or how i could do stuff differently. and that kind of makes me go, oh shit. dude, what the hell? that’s... that’s actually, yeah, that’s one fucked up upbringing. it really Was that bad. 

even regarding like The Voices In My Head(tm), my reaction historically was just like, scream at them? yell at them? injure the body somehow until they shut up or it passes out? 

which, uh, oh. that’s totally what my mother did when i was displaying “unreasonable” or “irrational” emotions as a small thing. rejecting then snapping then shouting then smacking until i either ran away to cry alone and injure myself more (emotional abandonment; reenacting and normalizing physical punishment) or went very numb and quiet and compliant like a Good Child (dissociative reaction/freezing; fawning). 

now like i am aware of these structures and this history Right Now. but still frequently i do get into the old frame of mind where it’s like, “you’re being stupid. you’re overreacting. you’re being melodramatic. Other People Have It Worse. Just Don’t Think About It” which, yeah, that’s introjected from a number of adult figures in my life. very very unhelpful, but when you’re a kid, you’re looking to adults for structures to implement to help you navigate your own life. when those adults are emotionally unhealthy... Yeah. this happens.

and right now, i’m like, uh, what the hell? it’s not a dick measuring contest, you’re telling a kid in pain that they’re not allowed to express their pain?

like i’ve talked abt this before probably but it’s an incident that reminds me how fucked up the whole situation was and is. when my school found out i was self harming in like y7 (so like, 11-12yo), because i’d cut so far down my PE shorts didn’t cover the marks, my PE teacher legally had to get the school to call home. and like, i fucking Begged her, please don’t, a call home is gonna make things SO much worse for me. but ofc the law is the law especially when it comes to teaching, and the call home got made. and later that evening my mother bust into my room with NO warning and fucking screamed at me, “You Selfish Little Cow.” 

like i went numb as hell. i don’t really remember clearly what she said after that but it was a whole tirade. stuff about how i was a brat and going to get her in trouble with social services and how i was ruining the family (implicitly, her life) and causing trouble, and how i ought to Think About What I’d Done. i was thinking/feeling, oh my god, she’s beating me again. i’ve ruined everything for everyone again. this is all my fault. i’m responsible, i’m the one to blame, i should have hidden it better. i’m not allowed to talk. i’m not allowed to feel. i’m supposed to be Quiet and Good and Do School and Not Annoy Anyone and Behave. i’ve failed. i am a failure. I Am A Selfish Little Cow. 

i think i tried to commit after she left? but like, in that way where you’re so numb and out of it you can’t actually physically pull together the methods, despite the mind wanting No More. 

and like i’ve been going to visit the woman that DID THAT TO ME. smiling and telling her about my life while Really Fucking Avoiding Telling Her Any Details About My Life. hesitating in pain and then adding “xx” to the end of the text messages i felt like i was obliged to send her. trying to convince myself “she’s my mum, i’m not gonna get another one, i should call her, it’s not so bad, we can talk about... uh, talk about politics, or religion, or, uh, her dog, or my siblings...” COMPLETELY fucking avoiding the fact that, like. this is the Same Person who caused me all that pain, and i don’t feel safe or secure talking to her about important details of my life, or my emotions, or, well, me. i hide and go Nothing Is Wrong! :) I’m Doing Fine! :) 

and! it really does seem like she’s not, you know, as cruel as she was with me, with her other children, at least since after i ran away. but no amount of that can actually change MY memories of growing up with her? my more-or-less programmed Make Her Happy reaction to her physical body? i can’t just, you know, conveniently forget those Things that Hurt Me to engage with her for her happiness. because, well, Her Happiness is not My Happiness, although i was lead to believe that was so. and, when i’m Conveniently Forgetting those things (i.e. my emotions at the hands of an abusive relative), i’m not behaving with the proper regard for myself as a person, and by extension i’m missing pieces of how to properly engage with other people. 

i don’t wanna like, mask the in between spaces of utter dread and anxiety and total blankness with Everything Is Totally Fine. I Am Functioning. Yes I Did Well In School This Year. That’s All That Matters. What Have I Been Doing? Oh You Know. The Usual. (without ever saying what The Usual is, because, yeah, when i’m in that Mode, i don’t fucking know what i do at home! idk how i spend my time! My Function Is To Avoid Conflict). 

because, uh, yeah, academically, sure! i am functioning, sort of! bodily? uh, well, i’m SLOWLY learning how to properly feed myself, and sleep without chemicals, and stay clean, stuff like that. socially? Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. okay, fuck. that’s the one i can’t... figure out, like, at all, on my own. how do i... where the fuck do I even start? i’m not even okay enough with Myself to navigate the social world without passing inappropriate judgement on potential peers. i see people who might, Might, be friends, and my brain goes POTENTIAL THREAT REGISTERED. SELF: SIGHTED. ACTION: HIDE. DO NOT APPROACH. FLEE IF CONTACT INITIATED. 

SO LIKE. my issue now is, i totally know that like... these patterns of behaviour are not My Fault, don’t make me Useless, Bad, Bratty etc, if i sit down and write about it, frowning on-and-off for hours. but, i can’t actually implement these regulatory thought processes in realtime quickly enough to... meet new people and enjoy it? on like, a social level? even on a professional level i have to wait for a good day, and switch off like, chunks of me to get the Task Completed. and uh, talking to friends isn’t a Task process, it’s supposed to be a Leisure process?

i’m quite capable of filling my time and navigating the world quietly, alone! there is a surprising amount i can find to do. but hypothetically i’d really like to, like, meet people, and not talk about “haha dude I’m so sick right now. let’s smoke another blunt,” because while it was... uh, reassuring? and i suppose fun? for a while? to meet other people dealing with life pain like that, that sort of thing gets really mutually toxic.

like, i’m in the process of quitting drugs altogether, and drugs tend to go hand in hand with that social space. daily use, even second-hand smoke, is not something i can be around any more. weed was great for ages, but now like, the drug basically told me “nah g i’m not for u any more”? - as in, it was not helping me any further, i could feel this, and i just... smashed the pipe i’d smoked out of since living in the YMCA, deleted my dealers’ numbers, and withdrew. goodbye ganja! I Keap The   B o m g   In My Mind Now

i was offered like, support from a local drug addiction charity? people fucking pushing me and pushing me to go there, actually. but like... i step outside the place and the ground is carpeted in fag ends. there are cheap booze shops like 5 minutes walk away. it felt like the kind of place where something heavy would come up in group, and i’d be with the people who peel away afterwards to chainsmoke, get a couple litres of cheap voddy, then somebody pulls out their second phone to get a baggie of the good shit once the booze hits? like it could easily just drag me back down. this is a thing i gotta discuss later, and more privately. that kind of group Not For Me.

i’d also like... started Really noticing the whole undercurrent of like, anger and judgement and denial and impermanence in the we’re-all-mentally-ill-here social spaces i used to hang out in? and i’m aware that i was participating in that too, and that while it was good to begin with and for a long time, it really isn’t good for me any more. actually tbh i go Completely Wack upon returning to those people and places now. which, fuck, like, if the person in question happens to be reading this, i’m very sorry. and yeah, sorry doesn’t cut it, because that must have been Fucking Alarming from your perspective, and i wouldn’t have done it if i’d been in my right mind, and i wasn’t in my right mind, and currently can’t be around so many triggers, and yeah your lifestyle being triggering to me is NOT your fault at all, which is why all i can really do is a disappearing act. cuz there’s no conversation that can even make a goodbye feel right, fucker that this situation is. rip. 

so yeah uh. my issue now, is Establishing Trust and Healthy Social Connections. that is, trust that someone is gonna like me for, the collection of things i like and do and say and am? uh, or even several people? 

this... is one i can’t figure out Alone, because, well, it concerns social relations. and i have very little confidence in social relations, because, well, they’ve either been painful, or centered around painful experiences. and i’ve been told that when i’m really truly enthusiastic and happy about something, i’m overwhelming and annoying to others? so i put the brakes on like crazy if i start feeling “too” happy and end up going Appeasement Mode to get out of the social situation as quickly and smoothly as possible.

and uh, what, i don’t even know the collection of things i like and do and say and am. i don’t... Know all of those things at any one time. how, uh, what? what am I. you know. the usual ??????????? flippy haze. 

i mean! i’m getting better at talking Within myself. i REALLY try to talk slowly with kindness and understanding of context to myself and the voices in my head now, and figure out solutions to pain and problems that don’t involve different kinds of pain or avoidance? but i still lapse into like, you know, Augh Jesus Christ I’ve Heard This One Before Why Do I Need To Have This Discussion Again, and frequently i can’t find a viable alternative for avoidance, because i get overwhelmed easily and that makes EVERYTHING worse. and i haven’t figured out how to take my foot off the brake pedal, either, even though i’m not always pressing it. I Need It There For Now Or Else The Car Might Crash u kno. 

so, like, what? i guess i just keep, talking kindly to the voices, and also to myself? practice until it becomes the default state of being when a trigger pops in? this requires patience, and also booting away people who refuse to have patience with me. unfortunate, necessary.

the thing about IRL conversations, is they happen so QUICKLY, and like, i don’t have enough time to calm the brain down from every trigger that pops up! because like, it can be a facial expression, a movement, a word or phrase, a tone, something in the periphery, something behind me, an internal sensation. it’s SO much information my brain is scanning urgently for threats, and my brain scans harder the more a person knows me, because a person who knows you can deal WAY more damage than a stranger. 

so... yes. this is the part i require assistance with. Hrrrrrrmmnhghdfgjnh.

I SUPPOSE. perhaps now the university have stepped in to arrange a case review with the NHS, they can really push for the kind of support i need. which, yeah, it’s long-term one-on-one trauma-focused counselling or therapy, and also some help with social interaction???? not repeated crisis team referrals, not some 12-week DBT course, i’ve literally been off finding DBT skills and employing them on my own because the waiting lists are so fucking long, and not a 12-week psychodynamic course, because i’ve been seeing a psychodynamic counsellor on and off for four years privately, and the work is nowhere near a conclusion. shit, i’d be satisfied if they could just somehow secure funding for me to keep seeing that guy specifically? he’s REALLY helpful to me, literally like my fucking role model for non-toxic masculinity. and i’m not ready for like, group social skills work, Yet. but soon, you know? only when i’m like “okay, yeah, i really do think I can handle this without my health going backwards again” - which, i need more within-myself security for that. 

also better mood monitoring would be nice, i.e. seeing the same damn person, who actually knows my case, instead of a different person every time saying “I’ve just quickly had a look at your case notes”. because if i go low again this winter, then my “depressive disorder NOS” is bipolar, and i’ve been mismedicated from the beginning. and yeah honestly like? as soon as it starts getting dark and cold, I get inexplicably sad, even with plenty of indoor light and warm clothes and whatnot. but yeah we’ll see about that.

anyway This Shit Wack. Im Done.

[ohheyits]

Commission #1 Superhero Fight

Here’s the prompt I got from a super generous Anon: Tegan has superpower abilities, so does Sara but they both don't know about each others. They get in a fight.

If for some reason you aren’t happy with what I wrote send me a message with what you put in place of the first and last name so I know it’s you and then your grievance. I’ll do my best to fix it if it isn’t up to your expectations. Either way I hope this does your prompt and donation justice so I don’t have to!

I went for more of a fluff angle here so this is based in a more more pre-quincest era. Hope you still enjoy quindom!

Sara’s been patient, more than patient really. She’s asked Tegan three times now to turn down the stupid music she’s been blasting through the shitty computer speakers she’d bought at the thrift store to no avail. Sara’s tired of asking nicely, tired of taking Tegan’s moody shit. Some people want to get somewhere in life, like studying so they can get into a decent college instead of smoking weed all day even though their sister has asthma and is in the room right next door trying to do her homework.

Sara clenches her fists, trying to push down the urge to just punch Tegan right in the gut. Man would that feel good though, she muses, wrenching open her door and stomping back across the hall for the fourth time that afternoon.

“Tegan!” She barks. “For the last time, turn the fucking music down before I kick you in your stupid face!

The music is cranked up louder in response and Sara snaps, twisting the doorknob angrily and busting inside, glad for the first time that their mother had had Bruce remove the locks off of their doors a few months back.

Tegan sits up in bed more than a little shocked, eyes widening then narrowing within a split second, anger contorting her face.

“What the fuck Sara get out!” She yells, face turning a deep shade of red, the blunt that had been resting between her fingers falling to the floor boards smoking, now nothing more than a glorified roach.

Sara crosses her arms, foot tapping as she tries to calm herself slightly and control her breathing to prevent most of the smoke from entering her slightly weaker lungs.

“Tegan.” She says in a slow, measured monotone. “Turn down your music and at the very least open a window if you’re going to smoke alright? You know Mom is going to know as soon as she gets home from the smell.”

“Sara.” Tegan mocks her sister’s tone. “How about shut up and get out.”

“Alright fine. Maybe I’ll just tell Mom about you and Jeremy’s ridiculous act then. Anyone with a brain and two eyes could see how gay you both are. I mean jesus could you make it any more obvious?”

Tegan stands up slowly, shaking a little. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really Tegan? Because I definitely think I do.”

“Sara. Stop.” Tegan’s teeth are clenched and the outline of her body starts to waver slightly, almost like the pavement of a parking lot on a particularly hot day.

“Then turn off your music and learn a little respect for other people. The whole world doesn’t revolve around you ya know.”

Sara feels like something's off here, like maybe she should just stop and walk away the bigger person like her mom always tells her to, but she’s too invested at this point. She steels her resolve.

“Promise me you won’t tell Mom.” Tegan says, taking a step towards her sister.

“Not until you promise to be more respectful. I mean this is just getting ridiculous!” Sara exclaims, throwing her hands frustratedly into the air.

It seems random and entirely like she’s taking things way too far, at least in Sara’s opinion, when Tegan throws the first punch. She only notices after things slow down way too much to be normal that Tegan’s fist is plumed in flame.

She dodges it way easier than she should have been able to. In fact, in the time it took for Tegan to complete her awkward lunge forward, Sara’s managed to sidestep and notice intimate details about the situation she definitely shouldn't have been able to notice at all. Sure, she’s heard explanations made by doctors in the videos her teacher shows in science class about how adrenaline causes us to think that time has slowed down and blah blah moving on to further explanations she doesn’t care about, but this isn’t some freak part of human nature. This is real.

She is literally able to walk circles around Tegan as her twin slow-mo tumbles to the ground, her now extinguished fingers splayed and smoking as she tries to catch herself. Honestly, with what is happening right now, the whole Tegan suddenly catching on fire thing seems plausible. Unreasonably so.

And then suddenly just like that everything rights itself and Tegan is confusedly scrambling to her feet in time that seems way more normal, as if what just happened was a bad dream and since then everything has clicked back into place. Did all of that really just happen?

Her answer is yes, that definitely did, because Tegan is staring at her fingers like they just caught on fire and suddenly the tips literally do again, Sara watching as her twin nearly jumps out of her shoes in surprise and panic before realizing that it doesn’t hurt, shoulders visibly relaxing. What the actual fuck?

Tegan looks up and they make eye contact, anger with one another suddenly evaporating at this newfound ability.

“Sare tell me you see this too.” Tegan mutters. “That fuckin blunt must’ve been laced with something this is the last time I don’t roll’em myself.”

“No Tee that is definitely happening. Just like uh, like how I dodged you like it was nothing. That definitely happened too.” Sara says, trying to wrap her head around the conundrum before them.

“Ah you got lucky you fucker.” Tegan says, momentarily too distracted by the opportunity to gloat to notice that flame has now sprouted on her shoulder, strangely not burning up the tattered flannel she’d stolen from Bruce’s laundry last month. It looks like a pauldron, shooting high enough to tickle Tegan’s wide jaw.

“Um Tegan I definitely didn’t and also your shoulder’s on fire.” Sara deadpans.

“Ah! What the fuck is this!” Tegan yelps, jumping for a second time as she looks down and notices, the flames seeming to grow larger and more fierce as her emotions peak. Sara is glad that she at least is able to remain calm in this situation, because if they both caught on fire every time they got upset, the world would be in big trouble.

“Just try and calm down and it’ll go away Tee!” She yells, wishing she could somehow trigger that weird slow time again so she could get any and everything flammable away from her sister before she destroys their house or something. THAT would be hard to explain to Mom and Bruce when they got home, that’s for sure.

“Sara I am literally on fire how the hell do you expect me to calm down!” Tegan counter’s, panic from earlier starting to resurface in her eyes and actions.

“It’s not hurting you TeeTee, just relax.” Sara changes tactics, her voice taking on a more soothing lilt, and slowly, the flames subside once more. Tegan sags, awkwardly shuffling to her bed and sitting down as Sara crosses the room and turns off that damn music.

“What the hell is going on Sare?” Tegan says. “What happened to you?”

“I-I don’t know.” Suddenly faced with dealing with her own new found “ability” is hard. Now she knows how Tegan felt just now. “It was like… It was like time slowed down; like I turned one of those slow motion cameras on and my eyes were the lense’s. And then everything went back to normal after you fell. I have no idea why it happened.”

“Man I wish I was more into comics right now.” Tegan moans. “I bet all the answers are in there.”

“Those are fiction Tee.” Sara replies absentmindedly.

“Are they?” Tegan replies.

They both look up at this revelation, this bizarre and yet now normalized question, eyes locking.

“Shit, that is trippy as fuck.” Sara says, giggling a little.

“I know right?” Tegan says, flopping backwards on her bed. “Hey, at least now I can light my own cigarettes though!”

“Ok good for you I guess, but I kinda want to know how my whole thing is triggered. Like for you, it seems like when you get emotional or angry you end up with little fires sprouting up all over. Also how does it not catch your clothes on fire, I definitely don’t understand that one. But anyways, like what is the trigger for me?”

“Um... anger, frustration?” Tegan offers.

“Yeah but then wouldn’t it have triggered the first couple of times I came and knocked on your door? Cuz trust me, I definitely was feeling an abundance of both of those then too.” Sara ponders.

“Yeah sorry about that Sare.” Tegan says, voice low with regret.

“Honestly not even worried about that anymore. This is much more fascinating.” Sara waves her hand as if physically brushing away the apology. “Just don’t be such an asshole next time.”

“Riiiiight.” Tegan says, stretching. “Oh we should totally have our own comic book now! We’d need some cool superhero costumes and stuff first though…” Tegan trails off before her eyes light up suddenly again. “What about flight-or-fight, like the adrenaline fueled survival instinct. We talked about it in bio class remember? You swung at me and as soon as you did the time-thing happened for the first time.”

“Could be… how do we test it?”

“Um… well I-arghhh Tegan stop!” Tegan leaps onto Sara in the middle of their conversation, putting her in a headlock and squeezing.

Just like that things slow down again; Sara can feel every flex of Tegan’s arm muscles, every noisy exhale of her sister’s breath. It’s too easy to get out of her grasp when Tegan can’t react any where close to quickly enough counteract her moves. She escapes and can’t help the laugh that sneaks out when she’s met with the sight of Tegan so still, and yet with that face of such triumphant surprise.

And then everything is back to normal, Tegan sitting on her bed and staring at her sister. “No fucking way man. This shit is wack.”

“Tell me about it.” Sara murmurs, trudging over and plopping herself down beside her sister.

Tentatively, Tegan reaches over and puts her arm over Sara’s shoulders, stiffening but slowly relaxing into the return of affection as Sara rests her head Tegan’s shoulder.

“What the heck do we do now Sare?”

“Excellent question.”

“Great answer.”

“I know.”

“...Can we at least get some capes?”

“No!”