#while speaking english as “stupid” and question their intelligence. i hate it so much!!!!

[autisticlee]

I often think about how many nonspeaking autistic people get treated like they are unintelligent, incapable of thought or learning, and will never be able to communicate, from the time they are time children. so many parents of autistic kids and even "professionals" base their intelligence and/or ability to learn and communicate on their ability to speak. it's so sad to see.

I always think about how many autistic kids might never get the chance to communicate because their judgemental parents don't try to teach them basic things or give them an alternative form of communication. so many "autism parents" seem to think if their child doesn't speak, or has impared speech, that means they are incapable of using or understanding words.

i'm sure there's a lot of autistic people who do have that disability, not being able to learn or understand words at all and therefore unable to learn communication methods i mention. but how many can learn to understand just fine and have the ability to communicate with other means that isn't physically speaking, but are never taught any language or communication skills? how many could use alternate communication if given the chance? what if instead of speaking for their child because their child can't physically speak, the parents taught them how to write, how to type on a phone/computer, how to use sign language, or use AAC device? (whichever they are able/most comfortable with) how many are denied that chance, treated like they are "stupid" and can't understand anything anyone says to them, but they understand it all and just can't communicate that to anyone?

I imagine it feels like being trapped. so much to say, but unable. people speaking for and over you, going against your wants and needs, deciding everything for you because you can't make words come out of your mouth, and they didn't give you another way to make words.

i'm semi-speaking, if that's the correct way to refer to myself? I can speak when i'm not overloaded. when i'm too overwhelmed and go into shutdown mode, i'm unable to speak at all even if i really want to. i mainly only speak to close family/friends when at home and have great difficulty trying to speak outside of home and with people i dont know well. it took me almost 2 years to be able to minimally speak to the staff at a place i volunteer every week, and still have trouble asking questions or even saying hell/goodbye. but on a good day, if I try really hard, I can say a few sentences! if i'm completely comfortable and in a stable or familiar environment, I can have "normal" conversation. though, talking exhausts me so I still can't do it for extended periods and prefer not to. I prefer to listen. I get tired and overwhelmed a lot faster if I have to speak a lot, especially when i'm not at home and in an overwhelming environment.

I know it's VRRY different from nonspeakers, but just from the experiences I had as a kid, I can kind of try to imagine how frustrating it may be for the ones who may be denied the chance to communicate: as a kid, school overwhelmed and overloaded me to the point where just the noisy school bus in the mornings caused a shutdown that lasted all day. I would be unable to speak at school at all and beat myself up over it because I could not get words out. I would try, but I was physically unable to produce sounds in the form of words. sometimes I could make a squeak sound or one word out of a whole sentence. if I did manage to get words out, it was too quiet or slurred and no one could hear or understand me. I couldn't answer anyone 99% of the time at school (or anywhere else that overwhelmed me)

people did and said things I couldn't respond to. my needs were denied. people decided things for me. other kids bullied me, the teachers bullied me, they acted like I couldn't understand them sometimes and treated me like a baby. I would sometimes write responses in a notebook or on a paper. i've had my responses torn up and thrown away by other kids and teachers. getting told to speak instead. it was so frustrating, isolating, and dehumanizing.

but there were rare times I could speak. this made them even more insistent about trying to force me to speak and was always told I was doing it on purpose (and they eventually made me believe it! I couldn't figure out why I couldn't stop choosing to do it! i had so much to say and didn't know why i could not say any of it!) trying to make me speak became a game for them. if I did say a word, they treated me like a baby or a dog doing a command. they would act like they won a game. it felt so dehumanizing like I was a circus act. they called me a scary freak and I felt like one... evenrually I learned I'm autistic and that's what's causing it, that sensory overload, overwhelmed, and stress cause me to lose my speech ability, that it's not my fault. i'm still not sure if I'm doing better now because I learned I'm autistic and can regulate it better and avoid triggers that lead to shutdown, or it's because i'm not in school anymore and spend most of my time at home where I control my environment and needs.

but I feel like that whole experience as a kid gave me a very small taste of what I imagine some nonspeakers experience. it makes me think about the ones denied a communication outlet a lot 😭 they must feel so isolated and frustrated and might not ever get or got the chance to tell anyone about it. we might never get to hear about their experiences and what they feel and go through.

even ones who are given an outlet and taught language and alternate form of communication like typing or AAC, or whatever they need, and are still treated poorly just because they are unable to physically speak or communicate...I think about you too and hope you're able to do well and keep going. I think you're doing great and i'm proud of you 💜 I haven't been able to find many posts online from nonspeakers, so if you want to share your stories, I will listen. you can write a post or find posts already made and send it to me and I will read!

[ambertea]

clever

Read on AO3

She’s six years old and she’s just won a certificate for Maths.

Her mum’s sitting at the back of the assembly, exchanging whispers to the single dad sitting next to her. Rose keeps looking back, trying to catch her eye, but instead watches her mother’s hand sneaking up a strange man’s thigh.

The headmaster smiles at her strangely, in a way she will later define as ‘condescending’ but in the moment she can’t wrap her head around.

“Well done, you clever girl.” He says, and Rose hates it. His clammy hand engulfs hers and Rose just blinks as he shakes it up and down.

The school claps dutifully and her mum is still not looking at her.

She’s eleven years old and she hates everyone in her class. They tease her in the playground, mock her in the classroom and the only safe haven is the tiny library. The librarian is old and odd, and she strokes Rose’s hair like she’s nothing more than a tiny doll.

“Don’t try so hard to be clever,” she tells her. “They’ll leave you alone.”

Rose leaves the library and never comes back.

She’s fifteen years old and GCSEs are utter bullocks. Mickey has already failed them all, already told her they don’t matter in the real world. She stays behind after school to sit in empty classrooms to figure out algebra and tells her mum she still does gymnastics.

She gets her results in a thick brown envelope and takes a quick glance at a long list of A’s before she chucks it in the bin.

“Pure shit.” She tells her mum. “Didn’t even try, anyway. I’m just not clever enough.”

Her mum throws her a party regardless, and Rose ignores the ache in her chest.

She’s seventeen and he’s fucking hot.

She’s told her mum she’s doing A-levels because she hasn’t figured out if she wants to do hairdressing or childcare. Instead, she doodles equations on the back of English papers whilst she waits for everyone else to finish.

She meets Jimmy outside the school gates and he’s smoking cigarettes and the smell gets right into the back of her throat. She tells him that it’s bad for him, and he tells her he could be bad for her. He’s right.

She drops out of school and her mother approves because it was giving her airs and graces. What her mother does not approve of is the filthy bedsit she moves into, where she cries as her boyfriend screams at her.

“You think you’re clever, do you?” he yells, and she shakes her head and whispers no, no, never.

She’s nineteen, fucking shop window dummies are after her, and a strange man is standing with her in the lift.

“’Cos to get that many people dressed up and being silly, they got to be students.”

“Good point. Well done.”

She’s wrong, but the praise bounces around her brain.

She runs off with him because apparently, that’s just what she does. Runs off with charismatic men, leaves her mother worried sick, because she is Rose, and Rose is not clever.

This man, however, is no Jimmy. He’s smart – so smart, any small attempts at intelligence still leave her feeling dumb. This is a comfort. She argues with him, thinks around him, and starts to feel a bit better about herself.

He’s sweet as well, and kind, and doesn't care when she asks too many questions. He shows her how to strip wires and repair parts of his precious ship, and they tinker away together in comfortable silences. Now and then, she properly impresses him, and he ignores the beauties of the universe and beams at her instead. It’s strange and wonderful and she tries her best not to disappoint him.

Then she is sent away, he is trapped, and it’s time for her to use her bloody brains only she’s not sure they even work anymore. He is dying, far in the future, but still dying, and she is watching her mum scoff down chips. She doesn’t want to go back to her old life, doesn’t want to play stupid anymore.

“Why, because you’re better than us?”

No, because she has learned what life is like when she tries, and she is not yet ready to stop.

She makes it back, using her brain and a fucking massive truck, and it is worth it if just for the way he is looking at her. He tells her she is fantastic and then explodes into a whole new man, with a lankier frame and wilder hair. He takes a long nap, and she is left to be useless once more.

She stands up in front of actual, breathing monsters and tries to copy words she’s heard, but her voice shakes, and her hands are trembling. They laugh at her, and she is eleven again, being teased by the nasty girls in her class.

He saves the day, because that’s just what he does, and she runs off with him again because his smile is still kind and their hands fit nicely. Cassandra sits inside her brain and hums with curiosity, poking around her mind like it’s a mildly interesting boutique.

“Not as thick as you seem, are you?” She whispers into Rose’s mind.

She’s inside some sort of spaceship and he is gushing over the accomplishments of Reinette de Pompadour. She already knows all this, knows who she is, but he is enjoying the sound of his own voice, so she keeps quiet.

She watches him carefully, notices the lipstick marks around his face and the ridiculous angle of his collar, and stamps down the familiar feelings of jealousy rising within her chest.

It had felt like they were growing closer. Their hugs had been lingering, hands held tightly at any available moment. She had thought something was growing, something small and precious and good. Clearly, she was wrong.

Reinette dies, and Rose isn’t glad, not really, but she watches him carefully afterward and wonders. Wonders why he keeps her around if he even wants her there. She tries to ask, but the words die on her tongue.

She has almost let the feeling go when she meets her father, a man who does not know her and apparently does not care to. She calls him dad and he runs, leaving her crying and shaking and so very vulnerable. She wonders, afterward, why. Why no one has ever wanted her properly, why it feels like no one has even met her in the first place. She sobs into her mum’s shoulder and wishes she had told her about the GCSE results.

Maybe it’s a good thing, she thinks later, that she’s alone. She has no real connections that make her want to stay at home, no real relationships that don’t leave her mentally exhausted. He is her grounding point, her focus, and he doesn’t think she’s stupid, not really, but he doesn’t think she’s clever either.

She knows she loves him; knows she will spend the rest of her life pining for him. It aches, having so much unspent emotion coursing under her skin. Feels like she could explode and implode simultaneously. But his eyes are so soft, and he is so worth it.

“We’ll always be alright, me and you.” She tells him. He just stares into the sky glumly.

“There’s a storm approaching.”

She hopes for a bit of rain but instead gets a fucking earthquake.

She’s twenty-one, she’s in a different universe, and she’s absolutely fine.

“How are you doing?”

“Are you okay?”

“Speak to me, Rose, please.”

She doesn’t speak to anyone. Doesn’t even look in the mirror.

It’s hard to assign blame on a talking pepper pot, so instead, she blames herself. If she’d been stronger. Tried harder. Been cleverer.

She tells her mum this over a bottle of wine, and she just laughs.

“People like us aren’t clever, Rose. We’re survivors.”

She doesn’t want to be a survivor anymore.

She starts working at Torchwood. Starts sleeping at Torchwood as well. Pete gives her the job out of pity but is quickly astonished by the scale of the work she’s doing.

“You’re brilliant.” He tells her one night. Jackie scoffs.

“Brilliant? Hark at her.”

Rose ignores her. It doesn’t matter.

She sits through A-levels, and then university lectures, and then physics conventions with groups of boring boys who follow her like a bizarre squadron. She has a brother now, a tiny boy with eyes just like hers, and when she tucks him into bed, she whispers stories of the stars.

She creates a dimension cannon and brings it home to show Pete. He marvels over it whilst Jackie sniffs like she’s got a nasty cold.

“Just glorified jewelry. Face it, sweetheart. You’re stuck here with the rest of us. It’s time to get used to it.”

“Shut up,” Rose says, and she can feel her pulse banging away in her ears like a marching parade.

Jackie is spluttering, Pete’s eyes are wide, and Rose isn’t quite sure what she’s doing but she’s doing it anyway.

“I can do this. I am going to do this. So just shut up.”

She does do it. She flits around universes like students backpack around Europe, and it’s strangely healing to spend so much time by herself.

She meets tiny aliens made of glass who kiss through the refractions of light and hugs ginormous bear-like creatures who are surprisingly friendly and incredibly soft.

She searches for him, and it hurts and it’s hard but it’s also fantastic.

She gets through finally to a universe that should be right but is oh so very wrong. A red-haired woman screams at her, and Rose is finding it difficult to breathe.

“I'm nothing special. I'm a temp. I'm not even that. I'm nothing.”

“Donna Noble, you are the most important woman in the whole of creation!”

“Oh, don't. Just don't.”

She tells her mum about her GCSE results because she can’t stop thinking about it. Her mum stares at her for a long while and then looks down at her hands. Rose has never seen her mum speechless before, doesn’t like it, so she just nods and leaves.

She finds him, and the feeling rushes right from her toes to the top of her head. She has done it. After all the effort and pain, she has found him, and the uncurling pride is like nothing she’s ever felt before.

He gets shot and utterly ruins it, but the feeling lingers.

Her mum shows up at the worst possible time, but she is there, and she is looking at Rose so fiercely. When the situation calms down and they are safe, she pulls Rose into a tight hug and rubs her hands in circles across the small of her back.

“I’m so proud of you, sweetheart.” She whispers, and Rose quickly wipes her eyes on her shoulders.

She is dumped on the same beach she has had nightmares about for the last five years. She is left again, but this time she is left with a familiar man who whispers promises into her ear and holds her like she is something important.

He is looking at her like he’s hoping she might lead the way, and she knows how to do this now, knows how to think and plan and strategize. She kisses him on the cheek, watches the blush that spreads across his cheek, takes his hand, and leads him back to England.

She doesn’t take him straight back to the mansion, hates the idea of speech and silence in equal measure. Instead, she takes him to her lab, and he stares at her designs through startled eyes and stolen glasses. She fidgets in the corner of the room, and wraps her arms around her waist, waiting for his verdict.

He turns to her, whips the glasses off of his face and a look of quiet wonder spreads across his face.

“You’re brilliant.”

She squirms under his gaze, picks off an invisible bit of fluff from her jacket. He is still looking at her, and she tries her best to smile.

“Thanks.”

“No, seriously. These are so impressive.”

She’s still not sure what to do with the praise, but it warms her and fills all the cracked pieces of her soul with new and growing tissue. She kisses him, both because she’s not sure what else to do, and because she can, and he smiles against her lips. They break apart and he runs his fingers over her work, his eyes soft and curious.

“How did you do this?” He whispers, and something tender and precious burns gently in her chest.

“I guess I’m just clever.”

[thecomfywriter]

Writing Manipulative Characters

Okay, so I’ve been AWOL for a bit. Sorry! But it’s your girl -- @thecomfywriter -- back with another post. So, today I want to try and describe my take on how to write manipulative characters, because they are some of my favourite characters to write. Here are my socials: 

Insta: @tovwriter 

Wattpad: GKM075

Pinterest: gurleenkmultani (i’ve been giving yall the wrong one this entire time LOL)

tumblr: @thecomfywriter

Also, this may be a sensitive topic for some so TW about manipulation. And without further ado, lets get into it!

So manipulative characters are some of my favourites for one very specific reason: the bastards are masterminds. They’re intelligent. Clever. Geniuses with how they find loopholes and play with language and make you feel like an idiot for ever doubting them. 

Seriously. I can hate a manipulative character as much as I want but I will always end up commending them or admiring the sheer brilliance of their tactics. If a character is written well, no matter how horrible a person they are, there will still be that sense of awe on wow how are they so good at being bad? 

But to begin, I want to state something very important. Manipulation has a negative connotation and is used commonly to state bad manipulation, but manipulation itself is not evil. Good manipulation is called persuasion, and it is very commonly used actually. Think of trying to persuade someone into doing something they’re maybe reluctant to do, or how a religion persuades people to believe in their faith. Manipulation isn’t inherently evil. Emotional manipulation is used in media all the time to make you feel for the characters you’re watching. It is the intention of manipulation that dictate its morality. So that’s actually the first thing I want to go on. 

1) What are your character’s intentions?

People aren’t manipulative for the sake of being manipulative. Not often at least. Most of the time, your oc will want something, and the means to getting that something is using manipulation. They have intention, and intention allows them to plan their manipulation accordingly. Not all manipulation is the same, nor is it equal. Figuring out your oc’s intentions will let you get inside their heads to understand question #2...

2) What type of manipulation will they use?

There are different types, often used in conjunction of each other. I’ll make a mini list, and there are probably more, but here’s what I can think of on the top of my head:

Gaslighting: a common type where the manipulator convinces the victim that what they are saying is outlandish/stupid and twists their words to make them feel insane the bad guys. It makes the victim doubt themselves and their own words, essentially vilifying themselves in their own eyes. Gaslighting will make victims question their own sanity. 

Emotional Manipulation: preying on the victims emotions to make themselves appear more vulnerable or to garner sympathy and excuse the abuse. Using emotions and twisting them to cause deep pain within the victims while also charging blame off themselves (huge guilt-trippers)

Psychological Manipulation: using lies to make the victim question reality and/or their sanity. It is essentially the umbrella term for the types of manipulation states above 

Persuasion: taking a logical/emotional argument and pitching it to convince another person of sharing the same mindset/do something

Depending on the context of the intention, the manipulator will use a certain type of manipulation to get what they want. If they are trying to cover up the fact that they’re cheating? Gaslighting. Trying to excuse their toxic/abusive behaviour? Emotional Manipulation. Trying to get someone to do the dirty work for them? A mix of emotional manipulation and persuasion.

Now here comes the hard part...

3) What makes them so persuasive?

If you’ve taken a debate class, or gotten into a heated argument with another person, you’ll know persuasion is a very difficult skill to master. This is a subtle marker of your oc’s intelligence when it comes to manipulation. Here are some characteristics + tips to persuasion:

Confidence: this is key because if your audience can suspect a shred of doubt in your belief in your own argument, there is no way you’ll convince them. Confidence gives the illusion of certainty, and when it comes to persuasion or changing someone’s perception of reality, establishing certainty in your own narrative (especially if its a false narrative) is imperative 

Logic: everyone admires and respects facts. Its another way to back the validity of an argument and create a (false sense?) of certainty. Using facts in persuasive. Twisting facts in your favour is manipulative. 

Here are some parts of arguments that I learned in english lol 

logos (logic) includes stats, factual evidence, reasoning, analogy and comparison

challenging assumptions is attacking a counterbelief 

hypotheticals are WEAK forms of argument about an imaginary situation 

ethnos (credibility/origin) is a way to establish credibility of the author or speaker to build an argument using experience, education, etc 

humour is related to storytelling and can be used to evoke emotions to gain attention and connect to the audience (makes them like you better + increases credibility); failed jokes an alienate you from the audience 

with manipulation, laughing while someone else presents their argument makes them feel like a fool and is powermove in gaslighting. 

pathos is emotion and involves diction (word choice), syntax (sentence structure), concession (agreeing to an opponents point; makes person seem unbiased) and recession (explaining why opponents points are invalid), anecdotes (descriptive stories), rhetorical questions (questions with obvious answers)

appeal to identity is using informal language to create a sense of belonging with readers 

logical fallacies which is flawed logic to look out for//might be used by manipulators on purpose: slippery slope (hyperboles or spiralling assumptions), strawman (misrep’d argument/biased evidence), bandwagon (acceptable due to mass action), circular reasoning (stating obvious and not explaining), either/or (presenting situation with only 2 POV’s)

Emotion: preying on people’s emotions is probably one of the easiest ways to gain allyship. Humans are naturally emotional people and empathy is encouraged in our society, making it an easy way to persuade and manipulate people. Appealing to a person’s emotions is a guaranteed way to make them listen to what you have to say. Whether this is mentioning an anecdote that creates a sense of intimacy between the speaker and the audience, or bringing up an issue that you know your audience is passionate about; by appealing to a person’s emotion, controlling the narrative is much easier because more often than not, people listen to their emotions more than their logic

Knowing your Audience: this is building on the emotion thing. Knowing your audience is an IMPERATIVE part to creating an argument. Your language changes with your audience. If you’re speaking to kids, you’re not going to use big fancy words. You’re going to use simpler language that is easier to understand. Shorter sentence structure. Asking questions more often to ensure comprehension and promote engagement. Speaking to someone older might require more formal, respectable language. Vise versa. But to add on this idea, knowing the background of your audience and their beliefs, their values is a really strong advantage to persuasion and manipulation. For example, if you’re speaking to someone religious, knowing their religious values and using it to support your own argument is a steady way to gaining both their trust and their support quicker. 

4) Research + Presentation

Getting background info on the victim is something your oc might do in order to find easier methods of manipulating them. Noticing and taking note of small behaviours they do or things they value is another thing. You want your oc to be observant, because that’s something a lot of manipulators use to their advantage. Also, how they present themselves and conduct themselves is huge. 

Apart from just their language, how do they speak? Take this example. Person #1: the person who keeps interrupting you and yelling in your face (this is a type of manipulation, but it is difficult to write and very very abusive. If repeated long enough, the victim might stop trying to speak in general because they feel their words are falling on deaf ears and have no value). Now Person #2: calm, collected, cool. they present everything in a earnest way. Their body language makes your feel warm and welcomed, even if their words are slightly cold, but its because they’re analytical. They’re problem solvers! They’re trying to help you! It makes sense what they’re saying. Maybe you’re just the idiot who can’t understand. Look how calmly they’re explaining it. Look how patient they are. They aren’t even arguing. They’re not even yelling or anything. They’re listening. They’re explaining. They can’t be wrong. They made so many points. No, I must be the idiot. Sure, their words hurt a little, but they don’t mean to be so harsh. They’re just blunt. They’re just trying to help me .

One is very in your face. The other is very subtle. There are many in the middle, but it depends on who the manipulator is talking to that their method of argument will change. They might use touch more, or seduction, or a softer or louder voice. They might use formal language or informal. Speak slowly (gaslighting does this a lot to make the victim feel like a child or stupid for not understanding. Also annunciating more), or speak so quickly you can’t even comprehend most of their words except for the key words. Or they interrupt and speak quickly so you don’t have time to respond or counterargue.

Anyways... I feel like this post makes me seem like a manipulator LOL. Imma stop it right there, but if you have things to add on or questions or anything, comment it down below. Reblog and like if you enjoyed it and PLEASE don’t use these tactics in real life. Most of these are incredibly abusive so please don’t. 

Happy Writing! :)

[hintofcolor]

Things I’ve managed to convince myself are canon:

Dick was born in Romania and spent his entire childhood traveling with the circus not once settling down therefore when his parents died in America (supposedly just another country they stopped in) he was forced to stay there. Meaning dick was an illegal immigrant for a long time while Bruce constantly was trying to use his money and power to get Dick legal without him leaving the country OR anyone finding out

This also means Dick couldn’t really speak English when he moved in with Bruce (this is backed up by him constantly dismantling the English language in the YJ cartoon)

All of the bat kids were bullied brutally in school

Bruce encouraged them to fight back just like Alfred did with him (“never throw the first punch but if get hit make sure they’re the ones that stay down”)

Dick spent a couple weeks in juvie after his parents died and it was the worst couple weeks of his life

Dick had a childhood crush on Wally (who is straight) when dick was 16 he sat Wally down and told him. He told him he expected nothing out of this confession he just hated feeling like he was lying to Wally, Wally understood and was really nonchalant about it nothing changed in their relationship

Jason grew up loving wonder woman and considered her his greatest inspiration in being a hero when he was robin

In return Diana absolutely adored Jason

When Jason got older his respect for Diana only grew and Diana constantly stood up for him, even going as far as (subtly) threatening Bruce a couple times

Jason can’t handle the smell of drugs at all, he always has to wear a filtered mask during drug busts just in case

Jason used to smoke but ever since coming back the smoke just reminds him of the explosion (I saw this somewhere I can’t remember where shout out to you tho)

Jason hates the color green

Tim was severely neglected as a child

Tim learned multiple different languages from all the nanny’s he’s had

Tim is an amazing photographer

All of Bruce’s kids are really close with Selina and go to her to talk or just if they need a break from Bruce and she absolutely adores it

This is one of the main reasons Bruce wanted to marry her

Bruce might be a little awkward and socially inept but he is a good father and loves all of his kids and even tho he might slip up sometimes he would NEVER (I’m looking at you Tim king) NEVER EVER intentionally hurt one of his kids physically or mentally BECAUSE THAT IS EXTEREMELY OUT OF CHARACTER @ ANY WRITER WHO HAS MADE BRUCE A JERK GOD LEARN YOUR CHARACTER JEEZ

Damian is a phenomenal artist and is considered a prodigy

It is something he keeps to himself however

Both Dick and Tim have gone and worked under Selina during thier robin days for a few weeks

The only person who is close to Dicks level when it comes to acrobatics is Selina

There are days where you are only allowed to speak in your native tongue to help Everyone keep up their language skills (Tim speaks Filipino dick speaks Romani Jason speaks Italian Stephanie speaks Portuguese Damian speaks Arabic bruce switches Cassie speaks Chinese) these are the days duke feels like slamming his head through a wall

All of the bat kids have green lantern shirts

Tim has a habit of stealing clothes from literally anyone

Tim prefers tea over coffee

Ace and Titus are both trained service dog however Titus is Damians specifically while Ace is trained to alert Alfred of Bruce and to alert Bruce of Dick Tim and Jason

Bruce is think about getting another dog for Cassie steph and duke because he doesn’t want to overwhelm Ace with 3 more people

Nobody in that spoiled family except for Jason and Alfred can make ANYTHING other that ramen cereal and toast

Dick is insanely healthy because that’s how he grew up in the circus AND the manor

Bruce once lit the refrigerator on fire trying to cook. No one knows how. He denies he ever did such to this day

Dick was considered a heartthrob as a teen and actually was featured on vogue in native dress and took the opportunity to talk about his culture

Vickie was fuming but so was Lois

Dick dresses like Harry styles. Convince me otherwise. I dare you.

However his go to look is a Hawaiian short tucked into black skinny jeans and black converse

Just like Selina everyone in the batfamily has a tendency to confide in Dinah

No homophobia sexism or racism is allowed in the Wayne house hold if you display any of the following you will promptly be kicked out. It has happened before

Cassie has punched lex Luther in the face at a gala

Bruce laughed

Cass has also only worn sweats and a sports bra to a gala

Cass is a ballet dancer and likes teaching her brothers the moves she has learned

When Bruce came back from the dead and found out the justice league thought Tim was going insane with grief and didn’t do anything about it he yelled and screamed for a solid hour. Then he went silent. for weeks he didn’t say a word. It was the most terrifying he had ever been

Duke hangs on to the fact that he is the only meta allowed in Gotham with absolute pride

All the robins check in on the kids from the ‘we are robin’ movement every now and again just to make sure they are okay

Adults are terrified of the bats however children love them

Every member of the batfamily has been called over by child screaming out their window only to spend the next hour helping said child with their homework

Batman makes sure he is approachable to children he wants them to feel safe enough around him to ask for his help no matter what

That has led to him: 1. Patching up stuff animals 2. Calming down imaginary friends 3. Giving opinions on important matters such as which color is the best 4. Helping with homework 5. Trying to be persuaded into convincing the parents not to make broccoli anymore. It’s his favorite part about putting on a mask

Teenagers tho a little more hesitant also approach him with a little more serious matters and more for advice. (How can I help my friend with depression? How can I help my anxiety? I think friend is doing drugs how can I help. I don’t think these are good people I’m hanging out with but now I’m too scared to stop)

However if teens catch any bat sitting on a rooftop close to their windows they ask more stupid type of questions

“Hey nightwing how do you ask out a girl?” “Red hood I’m trying to write this book so hypothetically how long does it take some one to bleed out?” “If I payed you would you take my physical for PE for me?” “How good do you think you would do on the pacer test?” “Can you tell my little sister to shut up, she’ll listen to you?” “How much do I have to pay you to scare my friend?”

Talks between people and the vigilantes from rooftop to window happen a lot and it is always the highlight of the patrol. They like that the people of Gotham trust them.

Jason was brought back via whatever that superboy reset was (I’m still a little fuzzy, sue me) clawed his way out of his grave and then found by Talia. He was then but in the pit for his head injuries. Making it easier for the shadows to manipulate and brainwash him into hating Bruce. However that’s the only thing they manipulated him into. Jason didn’t go ‘insane by the pit’ and his thoughts and stances on killing are his own. And the way Bruce handles Jason being back is what made Jason continue hating Bruce even aged the brainwashing ‘wore off’

The day his dad died was what Jason considered the best day of his life

Dick is extremely intelligent and was considered a child prodigy (this isn’t a headcanon this is actually canon some of y’all just forget and need to be reminded)

Dick loves math (also canon)

Jason can sing. Like really really well.

Theater Nerd™️ Jason Todd

Jason is scared of thunderstorms

Damian is afraid of heights

Lady shiva absolutely adores Tim

They have all been arrested a few times each for varying reasons when they were teenagers

If Alfred or Bruce yell one thier full names the other kids will cover for them but ONLY if they use the full name other wise it’s every man for himself

I know this one isn’t batfam but I think kon playes the electric guitar and has a really unique punk-ish vibe type singing voice (think hobo Johnson)

Dick has naturally curly hair

[maxdark158]

PART TWO OF BEING INSPIRED AND WRITING ANYWAY

PLEASE check out the amazing @ozmav my friend!! AMAZING!!

Characters are probably OOC because MLB is a kids show and you guys liked stressed and cursing Damian so I kept that going even though it’s probably OOC

Angel in Gotham: Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Ao3

Demon in Gotham: Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Ao3

Fanart for AiG: Riddler ~ Joker thank you @thegreysman

Please tag me in any fanart you draw for this guys ^^

oooOOOooo

Damian tried to ignore his phone after checking it for the thirteenth time. But who was counting?

He was, actually. Because it seems the stupid worry feeling will never fucking go away! It took root, and it’s only growing. Damian wondered if drinking weedkiller works on emotions. The bitches.

He wasn’t even that worried initially! Sure, he wanted his An- Marinette to text him when she got to the hotel, but that was just… a friend thing. It’s what friends ask! And they were friends.

Damian wasn’t worried on the car ride to the manor, he had only checked his phone once then. When his father questioned him about The Riddler incident, he was thoroughly distracted and didn’t check at all. After he left the room he checked twice in one minute just to make sure he didn’t miss anything in the first check.

He checked sparsely while training briefly, adding up to eight… okay, maybe not so sparsely. But at this point the awful god damn plant had grown a mouth and it was gnawing on his sanity, bugging him every moment of peace he had.

Damian was getting really fucking sick of this whole worry business. It was awful! Why did Grayson partake in it for so many years? Why did anyone?

He was beginning to understand his classmates’ sense of humor now. But “I want to ka-shoot myself,” was not as funny as they thought it was.

Damian was so busy thinking about worrying and getting more worried – the fucking circle of life – that when he checked his phone for the fourteenth time, he realized he missed a message from Marinette.

Angel: I’m at the hotel now.

Thank fuck. Damian banished all the worry from his mind – leave, motherfucker – and typed out a response.

Damian: That’s good

Damian: Did you get in trouble?

Wait fuck the worry wasn’t gone. He wanted to smack the phone against his head. Or break his thumbs for typing that without his permission.

Angel: Professor Mendeleiev must’ve been tired or something.

Angel: She didn’t leacture

Damian bit his lip. Marinette needed to work on her English.

Angel: Lecture?

Damian: *lecture

Angel: Quiet, English is hard

He could fucking understand that! It may have been long ago but Damian had to learn once too, ya know.

Damian: Understandable.

Damian: In my original question I meant any of your classmates btw

Holy fucking shit his thumbs would be cut off by sunlight he swears to all the justice league members-

Angel: btw?

Angel: Oh by the way

Damian: yeah

Angel: I’m good at text slang in French, okay

Damian: I don’t doubt you

He really didn’t. Marinette seemed intelligent if The Riddler incident had anything to say about it.

Angel: Anyway Alya tried to bother me but I’m good now

He frowned. Alya? She hadn't told him about her.

Angel: Professor Mendeleiev told her off for bothering me after my ‘traumatic’ encounter with a Gotham villain

Damian: Speaking of, are you SURE you’re alright Angel

Damian sighed, letting his head drop. Okay, fucking fine he was still fucking worried and he hated it. His thumbs weren’t to blame, his fucking emotions were.

He pulled up Google to look up liquid weedkiller when his Ang- Marinette texted back.

Angel: I’m fine

Angel: I’ve survived akuma for three years, I’m not about to let some riddle fanatic with terrible clothing choices ruin my day

Damian: His clothes are that bad?

Good, subject change. Maybe he can stop fucking worrying.

Angel: Too much green, for one

Angel: Green shouldn’t be used in large portions when it’s that bright of a shade

Angel: Also the cloth itself was cheap, but the kind of cheap meant to look expensive if you don’t know cloth good

Damian frowned. That was so fucking obvious. Surely she didn’t actually make that mistake…

Damian: *well

Angel: Whatever

Angel: Also his hat didn’t match the type of suit he was wearing

Angel: If he wants to go old fashioned he should at least match the time period

Angel: Longer coat, more layers

Angel: He is an atrocity

Her comments were appreciable though. He could see where she came from.

Damian: he is

Angel: If I had time to cry then my tears would had been blood

Damian: *have

Damian grinned. If Marinette didn’t want her fucking grammar fixed she should learn how to spell in English.

A different motherfucking bitch of an emotion appeared at that thought. He didn’t like that one either. It made him feel bad for being mean.

Angel: istg

Damian: It appears you’re learning

Angel: Yepp

Damian: Also the Gotham news posted an article online about you

Might as well bite the bullet, right?

Damian: “Unnamed Teenager From France Holds off The Riddler Until Batman Arrives!”

Angel: Wait what?

Angel: But we both held him off?

Damian: I was kind of useless, you did most of the work

God damn it! Damian thought he told that emotion to get the fuck out! He was fucking Robin he isn’t useless, he just happened to not be needed at that exact moment.

Damian: I left shortly after you solved his riddle because the Robins had arrived

He grumbled to himself. He hated emotions. It wasn’t like he hadn’t ever felt them before, but they were easier to ignore. This girl made them hard to ignore, and Damian wasn’t sure why.

He did know that he fucking hated it.

After a moment, he realized h- Marinette hadn’t replied for a few minutes.

Damian: You there?

Angel: Yeah. I was just reading the article

Good. He didn’t want anything to happen- motherfucking dammit.

Angel: The Riddler was bad at hand to hand combat. It was easy to take him down with the practice I have from Paris

Damian: I bet.

He saw the time on his phone. Marinette had more field trip stuff tomorrow morning, right? Shouldn’t she get to bed?

Damian: It’s getting late, Angel. We should go to bed.

Damian: Goodnight

Angel: Goodnight

Angel: Also I’ll find a chat name for you soon, promise

Damian’s smile felt weird on his face but unlike the god damn worry and fucking other emotions, he didn’t hate the feeling of it.

After replying, he prepared to get dressed for his patrol as Robin.

oooOOOooo

“Sooo, Robin,” Drake dropped down next to him. “Want to share why you were at that ice cream parlor with that pigtailed French girl?”

“Fuck off,” is Damian’s extremely eloquent response. He can say it in many different languages.

“Wait, Demon Spawn has a girlfriend?” fucking Todd over the fucking comms in his fucking awful Red Hood suit. At least his current helmet didn’t have the fucking lips.

“No, I don’t-“

“I’m trying to figure that out, Red Hood, so would you kindly butt out of the conversation.”

“Of course Red Robin, good luck getting anything out of him though.”

“I don’t have a fucking girlfriend you numbskulls,” Damian hissed through the comms.

“Wait what’s this about a girlfriend, Robin?” Grayson’s overexcited cheerleader voice screamed. Damian wanted to rip out his eardrums.

“Red Robin, I thought I instructed you to leave him alone about this,” finally, his father, for once being a fucking voice of reason, speaks on the comms.

“Bruce you said I should wait until he admits to having a girlfriend,” Drake sounded too smug, Damian wanted to cut it off his masked face. “We know that isn’t going to happen.”

“I hate this fucking family,” Damian hissed.

oooOOOooo

Marinette hadn’t missed her field trip this time. Or had she? Maybe she slept in really fucking late. Damian didn’t know. He didn’t know what her sleeping schedule was like.

She could have also been captured or killed. Those were not fun thoughts. The fucking worry was back, like a virus. Damian anxiously awaited his weedkiller.

She likely wasn’t kidnapped or dead. His father would have known by now and would have told him. He hopes. If his father didn’t tell him he’s a fucking asshole.

“Master Damian.”

“Yes?” he turned around to face Alfred, grateful to be away from the god damn brain-eating plant in his head.

“I simply wanted to prevent you from walking into that wall,” Alfred gestured behind Damian.

He glanced and – yep. Fucking hell. He almost walked into a wall because of the god damn weed of an emotion forcibly taking his mind hostage.

He was having a grand ol’ time.

“Perhaps you would like to go for a drive?” Alfred asked, a single brow raised.

Damian hesitated. “Alright. Where do you want to go?”

“We can figure it out in the car, Master Damian.” Alfred went to grab the keys and his shoes. Damian checked on when his weedkiller would arrive.

A week.

Fucking fuck fuck.

He should have paid for one-hour shipping.

“Are you ready to go, Master Damian?”

“Yes.”

Alfred didn’t try to talk to him during the drive, for which Damian was grateful though. He hated this emotion thing, and people forcing him to talk made it so much worse.

His phone buzzed. Damian pulled it out and checked it.

Angel: Kill me now

His eyes widened. What happened? Is she okay? Did someone- god fucking motherfucking dammit bitch.

Damian: What’s wrong?

Stupid god damn worry.

Angel: We have to all get lunch as a class before I’m free

Angel: I’m in the group with Liar Rossi

Damian raised a brow. Marinette hadn’t told him much about this girl in her class, but he knew she lied and nobody but Marinette knew she lied.

He didn’t like her.

Angel: Death would be sweatier

Damian: *sweeter

Angel: Rude

Damian: Anyway

Damian: You can’t die yet

Damian: We still technically didn’t get ice cream

Absolutely wonderful excuse you fucking asswhipe. Damian should be a politician with that reasoning.

He looked around, recognizing the streets. They were a bit weird from the actual street instead of the rooftops, but-

Damian: Also you’re at the Gotham City Heroes and Villains Museum right?

Angel: Yes I am

Damian fought to keep the smi- self-satisfied smirk off his face. Bingo.

Damian: I’m nearby

Damian: I can pick you up for lunch

Angel: OMG really? Please do I’d really really like that

Damian: omw

“Alfred,” Damian leaned up toward the front seat. “Head to the Gotham City Heroes and Villains Museum? I’d like to pick someone up.”

“Of course Master Damian,” Alfred’s tone didn’t betray anything about his thoughts, but for some reason that was calming to him.

The car drive to the museum was fairly short, if Damian was honest. They were only a few minutes away to begin with anyway.

When they arrived, Damian saw a redhaired girl with glasses yelling at his An- Marinette. At Marinette. He couldn’t hear what Marinette had said, but it must have been good. The red-haired girl’s jaw fucking dropped. The people behind her looked fucking dead.

Priceless.

Marinette saw him and he waved. Alfred unlocked the door, and Marinette got in. She didn’t look back at her classmates' faces as Alfred drove away.

Shit. Something must have happened. He wasn’t good with emotions though, after all he ordered weedkiller to see if he could get rid of fucking worry.

So, Damian Wayne did what any Wayne would do when faced with emotions.

Ignore them.

“Where would you like to eat, Angel?” Damian asked.

Shit, fuck, too insensitive.

Marinette shrugged. “I’m not sure, I don’t know what’s here.”

She sounded so goddamn miserable-

Damian frowned. “Angel, you okay?”

Fucking shit, stupid mouth. Learn the fucking rules. He should be banned from fucking talking.

“I’m okay,” she mumbled. “I’ve got a lot on my mind right now.”

Damian wanted to press the issue but decided against it. If he was happy when Alfred didn’t make him talk feelings, maybe Marinette would be too.

He was a friend first – wait first before what, exactly?

“Alfred, can you take us to the nearest,” he glanced at Marinette. “four-star restaurant?”

“As you wish Master Damian.”

He hoped Marinette didn’t feel out of place, but he wanted to lift her spirits. She deserved to smile – that was a weird fucking sentence what the fuck?

Damian is pretty sure he’s losing his marbles.

“I know,” Marinette suddenly blurted out. “I know you’re Damian Wayne.”

Fucking fuck fuck.

Shit. She’s probably pissed he didn’t tell her-

“I just want you to know that doesn’t change anything. You’re still my friend, and I don’t care who your dad is and who you are.”

Damian gaped at her for a moment before shaking his head. He should have fucking told her, he’s an ass. “I’m sorry you had to find out on your own. I should have told you-”

Marinette interrupted, “you didn’t have to. You don’t owe me that.”

He was confused. What?

She didn’t want to know who he was right off the bat? She was okay with that secret?

“As a stranger or even a friend, you don’t owe me any details about who you are. Ever,” Marinette told him. “You’re allowed to keep secrets and not tell me things you aren’t comfortable sharing. It isn’t fair of me to demand you tell me everything.”

Holy fucking shit.

This… this woman…

“Thank you,” he said earnestly. “I… nobody’s ever said secrets are okay…”

Marinette shrugged. “I can’t help if I feel left out, but forcing you to tell me everything isn’t how friendship is supposed to work. If you don’t want to tell me, it’s okay.”

Damian’s smile was small, and it felt a bit out of place on his face. He couldn’t find it within himself to care.

“Perhaps instead of a restaurant, I can take you both to the mansion for your lunch?” Alfred, the god damn traitor, suggested.

He wanted to say ‘have you lost your god damn marbles, Alfred?’ but he didn’t.

Instead, he said, “You sure Alfred?” like a fucking loser.

Marinette glanced at him. “You don’t have to if you aren’t comforta-”

“No, it’s not that,” he assured. Why would she think he was uncomfortable? His brothers were menaces, but he was used to them! Marinette, however... “My brothers can be… rambunctious.”

Drake and Todd were going to have a fucking field day, especially after what they pulled last night over the comms. He was lucky Grayson was working today. But those two motherfuckers…

Marinette smiled. “I can handle them if that’s the only reason you’re nervous.”

Damian thought for a moment.

Fucking fuck fuck.

He hoped she could. Because if they caused her any unnecessary harm or discomfort he would murder their asses.

With pleasure too.

But one look told Damian that he wouldn’t need to. This girl was going to be the death of him. He hoped the weedkiller was miraculously early.

He sighed. “Alfred, please talk us to the mansion.”

“My pleasure, Master Damian.”

Fucking fuck fuck.

[seapandora]

Fierce (Part 1?)

Avengers x oc!Rexy, (I honestly haven´t decided on what the final ship will be if there will be one…, also kinda oc!reader)

A/N: I started writing this as a reader x Steve fic but it just works better with an OC. I tried my best to not be too descriptive. This is sorta following the Avengers movies, not the comics. Probably no mention of the guardians… or maybe of Rocket and Groot but they get a pass in my book. Lastly, Ive got no clue wether this will be a series or not. Depends on how its received. So if you wanna see more, reblog and like. I don't own Marvels characters, this is just a fic, nothing more. Enjoy reading it. Thanx <3

Warnings: Anxiety, Blood, Probably some character-distress, slow burn, probably some character death along the road.

Words: 3019

Steve, oh sorry… Captain America… The world's golden boy and everyone's favorite Avenger. Well, everyone, except the Avengers, favorite Avenger. He was always so correct and he drilled the others quite hard, to the point where they had all thought of ways to take him out. Not that that was an easy task. He was a supersoldier. He had superspeed, superstrength, and well, he was quite agile. Bucky was a good sparring match because he also had the supersoldier serum. Those weren´t the only two with it though. They had a third supersoldier on the team, Rexy. Although the serum was the same as Steve and Buckys, Rexys had been spliced with genome from different animals who possessed certain abilities. While Rexy had no real clue as too how Hydra had created the "improved" serum, she now knew what it contained. Mostly thanks to Bruce, who had taken a blood sample when she was taken to the compound. Turned out she had genomes from a cuttlefish, those genes had proven to give her the ability to blend into any kind of background. She also had genes from a pit viper, which essentially gave her the ability to detect people's heat-signatures.

In all honesty, Rexy was a genetic freak, and it was clear that the scientists had been very keen on the whole Jurassic World deal seeing as the genes they had been using had also been used to create the fictional Indominus Rex. That had essentially gotten Sam to give her the nickname Rexy, and Rexy didn't mind. She had never provided any other name and wasn't about to start now that she had stayed with the team for a few years. It would be weird. Steve had been the first one to approach Rexy when she was found, but she had shied away from him. He had thought he could understand her, but he realized how wrong he was when Bucky told him that it was very different to be injected with something out of free will, compared to being injected against your will. Bucky had started to speak Russian and while Rexy hadn´t understood a word, she knew who Bucky was. She had seen his picture millions of times and had heard how he betrayed and left Hydra. That led to Rexy trusting Bucky to keep her safe. She had never heard of Steve before, only Captain America, and she hadn´t made the connection at that point.

For a while, Rexy didn't speak to anyone, not even Bucky. Mostly because he kept speaking to her in Russian and she didn't understand a word. Eventually one day she had asked to be allowed to make a phone call. She had spoken perfect English and the Avengers had all been frozen in their spots when she spoke up. After that, she was able to bond with each and every one of them in a unique way. She had always been the most comfortable around Bucky and Sam because they never put any pressure on her. The same went with Natasha who had become like an older sister to Rexy. Rexy had also quickly bonded with Peter who had become a very close friend of hers. That lead to the Avengers finding out that she was only four years older than Peter and that she had been taken at the young age of 12. Once they realized that Tony made sure to get her into a homeschooling program that the Avengers would help her with. Bucky and Steve worked with her on history, Sam on current conflicts of the world. Natasha helped her learn computers and programs. Bruce helped Rexy with chemistry and Tony worked with her on physics. Wanda helped her with psychology and Vision provided his knowledge whenever someone lacked information. She had gone through her missed years in just under two years and had applied for college. When she knew she had a spot she talked to Tony to see if he could get her a program she could follow from the compound. She wasn't comfortable around others and just felt the safest when she could be in her own space.

Tony had taken care of it all and Rexy was reading three different programs. She was like Tony, a workaholic and she hated not having something to do, and currently, she wasn't allowed on missions. She had had a bit of a tantrum a few weeks which had resulted in a lot of destruction and Steve with a black eye when he tried to calm her down. Rexy was still extremely embarrassed by the whole ordeal and she hated that she had hurt Steve even if he was completely healed after three days. She hated just thinking about it. Back to her studies, she liked having a lot on her plate and she was studying psychology, chemical engineering, and computer science. She wasn't an overly intelligent human freak, but she was interested and that took her more than halfway to her goal, most of the time. And now that she had a lot of time on her hands she made sure to keep up with everything and not fall behind on her studies. The Avengers all tried to help her, but often Rexy would just stare at them until they shut up, and then she´d kindly say she´d ask for help if she needed it. Mostly she talked to Natasha or Tony about stuff she found hard with her computer science courses, but she often asked Peter as well. They usually did most of their homework together or just sat and studied together.

Today just so happened to be one of those study days. Summer break had just started and technically Peter didn't have to study, however, he was still doing the "Stark Internship" and for his teachers to accept it he had to write a larger report on Starks technics, and how some of them worked. Tony had given Peter some parts that didn't do much for him and that wouldn't be a security risk if it leaked. Not that Peter would ever be that stupid. Rexy would trust Peter with anything. Sure he could be a bit of a talker but he had a pure heart and could challenge Steve for being the kindest and most caring human being on the planet. Or should he be called humanoid? He was part spider after all, right? Rexy was just finishing up an essay she had to write for her chemical engineering. It wasn't that hard, just a lot of work and she had put it off for a few days in favor of spending time with Shuri when she had come to visit. Shuri was of big help as well but seeing as she rarely visited them, she and Rexy rarely had time to talk about school or help each other. Mostly when they called they talked about boys or just T´Challa, Bucky, Sam, and Steve because it was fun to gossip about the old men.

Peter repeated his question and Rexy looked up. "Sorry, I was in a weird zone, care to repeat Pete?" She asked softly and blushed slightly at her antics. She usually didn't space out when someone was talking to her. He laughed but just shook his head. "Don't worry ´bout it. How´s the essay going, need anything? I was going to get something to drink and something to eat, you want anything?" He asked as he stood up. Rexy thought for a moment before she stood up as well. "I´ll just go with you." She answered knowing Peter would most likely forget something and then he´d be mad at himself. This way they could focus on what they wanted for themselves and then help each other back. She was always keeping an extra eye on Peter knowing he did suffer from a bit of anxiety. It didn't help that he was underage and fighting crime. It was a lot of pressure on a teenager. Rexy always figured that everyone stayed strong for her that she would repay them by staying strong for someone so important to them all and be his rock instead of the opposite way around. Yes, Rexy had missed a lot of her life as a teenager, but her years in Hydras´ grip had made her appreciate the small things in life and she didn't take anything for granted. She taught Peter to enjoy life while he still had it. It wasn't something you could get back later on, once you were gone you were gone. Peter had, because of Rexy, started to date MJ and he had started saying no to nightly patrols in favor of spending time with MJ.

Rexy didn't mind Peter spending a lot of time with MJ, she knew she always had him. She also had a lot of other things she had to do rather than think of Peter. She was an Avenger. Well, sort of at least. She hadn´t signed the papers, afraid that she would end up in another organization, like Hydra. She did however work as a consultant for the government. The American, and several other governments as well. She wasn't American by birth and didn't even have American citizenship. Hence why she didn't show loyalty to only the states. She was a freelancing superhero. She snapped out of her second daze in just a short time as Peter stood up and she followed his lead. She had gotten a call earlier during the day and she was leaving for a solo mission in just a few hours but she and Peter had planned this afternoon of studying for some time. Once they were all done she would be leaving though. So far only Natasha knew as she had been around when the call came. Rexy was hesitant to telling Peter she was leaving. Peter always worried about her and he wouldn't be able to relax until she got back and she didn't want that for him. He had a date with MJ the next day and Rexy wanted Peter to enjoy it.

They walked to the kitchen and Rexy got herself a cup of coffee and a soda. She needed the energy for the rest of the afternoon. She also got herself a FlapJack bar, one with summer berries. She waited for Peter to grab what he wanted for the afternoon before they began walking back towards the library. Rexy yawned a bit and hummed. It was a slow day and it made her slow and tired. She was in some weird way looking forward to the sleep she could get on the jet. She enjoyed sleeping on the jet, something about it was soothing. Rexy and Peter sat back down at the table and quickly emerged themselves back into their studying. Rexy began to type on her essay fairly quickly and within minutes she was in a flow. Her essay was actually on nanotechnology as a means of drug delivery in the human body. While Rexy wasn't necessarily supposed to make a case for a certain technology her professor had accepted her request to be allowed to create a drug delivery system that could work, with the help of nanotechnology. It had all been a success and the essay was mostly a discussion about potential issues her mechanic could have and whether it was more effective than traditional drug delivery. She was, in all honesty, very happy with her results and the way the essay was coming along. She was just hoping it would be accepted by her professor and that the reviewers wouldn´t be too harsh, even if that was the point. Rexy didn’t intend for her research to go mainstream and she had no interest in making it a reality. The technology was expensive and few countries would get access to it and in Rexy´s mind, everyone should have the same possibility to acquire the technology or no one should have it. The current techniques were acceptable and working, rich countries didn’t need another way of distributing drugs, not yet at least.

She typed up the last few paragraphs and emailed it to Bruce, who had promised to proofread it and think whether Rexy's arguments would hold or not. She noticed Peter was still stuck on one of his problems and leaned over to get a better look at it. Their relationship was incredible. They didn’t even need to talk to be able to communicate their issues. Rexy could see he was struggling and wanted her help. “Read the problem to me, and I´ll see if I can help.” She said softly and smiled at him as she leaned her head in her hand. “Okay, so… I have to calculate the momentum of a 2000 kilo elephant who´s running at 7.5 meters per second. Compare the momentum of the elephant to that of a 0.0400-kilo dart fired at 600 meters per second. And lastly, I have to calculate the momentum of a 90-kilo human running at 7.4 meters per second.” Peter explained and sighed softly Physics wasn’t his strong suit. The truth was it wasn’t Rexy´s either, but she had taken a course in basic physics just to understand some things that Bruce and Tony would talk about now and then.

“Okay so let's break each question up. The first question was about the elephant's momentum, right? So momentum is the mass times the velocity and you have both of those factors, right?” Rexy said and smiled. Peter nodded and quickly wrote up the equation as meve and continued by adding in the values he already had. Peter used his calculator to do the multiplication of 2000 times 7.50 and got the answer 15 000. “Cool, now let´s write that as a scientific notation instead. “ Rexy said and waited as Peter instead wrote the answer as 1.50 x 104. “And don’t forget what it is you’ve calculated, kg times meter per second.” She added to let Peter know he had to write out the SI-unit. “Okay, now the second question. Let´s calculate that the same way, to begin with, now that you’ve got how to calculate the momentum.” She said and smiled as she took a sip of her drink. It didn’t take Peter very long at all and he waited for Rexy to swallow her drink before he looked at her for help. “So comparing the two momentums… momenta?... oh well. You want to divide the momentum of the elephant by the momentum of the dart. So it will be 1.50 x 104 kg x m/s divided by 24.0 kg x m/s as that was the momentum of the dart.” She explained and pointed to his two previous answers. The more Peter thought of it the less hard this became. Maybe it was just hard because he was thinking of so many other things. He had the date with MJ in his head and he had a few exams coming up in the next few weeks. Peter did the math quickly and got the result 625 as he should. “Great, so if you'd want to put that sensibly for a test or so, you could write that the momentum of the elephant is 625 times the momentum of the dart because the elephant weighs much more than the dart,” Rexy explained with a quick shrug. She didn’t mind Peter asking her for help even if the problem wasn’t that hard. He always helped her with things that turned out to not be very hard.

“So last question. This is the thing you’ve done for both previous questions so why don’t you do it while I save up my file and I´ll check it in 2 minutes?” She asked and smiled at Peter before she turned to her laptop to save her current file and to open the email she had received from Hill with some assignment details. She quickly transferred those files to her file in Friday's head and made sure Friday would lock it up with a password. The password wasn’t that hard, but it was something the others didn’t know about her. Okay maybe Natasha knew, but she knew everything. She checked back in with Peter in precisely two minutes and smiled as he had done it correctly. “You got it.” She said and patted his arm. “Now if the questions get any harder, please don’t ask me, I suck at physics.” She chuckled and closed her laptop. “I gotta go, Pete… I have some stuff to do.” She said and frowned. “Oh, okay Rex. Study sesh tomorrow?” He asked and looked over at Rexy as he too began to pack his things up. “I can´t tomorrow, I´m going out of town for a little bit.” She said and sighed. “I´ll be back by the end of the weekend.” She added and looked at Peter who looked like she had just told him someone had died. “Is it a mission or something?” He asked and frowned. He was always very protective of her even if she was technically older than him. “Yes, but I´m going to be fine Peter. It’s a simple mission.” Rexy assured him. He stood up and hugged her quickly. “Are you going off-grid? Or can you send me updates?” He asked as they hugged. This was the exact reason she hadn´t wished for Peter to know. He would be worried sick and she hated making him worried. “Look, you have a date tomorrow night, and I don’t want you to worry. Hill wants me to be off-grid but I´ll make an exception for you until tomorrow night, okay? You and Tasha are the only ones who know I´m going. You can´t tell Sam or Bucky until later tonight, or they will try to stop me. This is something I, and I alone, have to do.” She explained and kissed Peter's cheek before she let him go to collect her things. Peter sighed but knew better than to argue with Rexy. She was a capable woman who was more than used to her own missions by now.

[ifthearmorfitsarchived]

THE POSITIVE & NEGATIVE: MUN & MUSE

Fill out & Repost ♥ This meme definitely favors Canons more, but I hope OC's still can make it somehow work with their own lore and Lil’ fandom of friends & mutuals. Multimuses pick the muse you are the most invested in atm.

Tagged by: @sweet-talkin-gladiator (thank you :> ) Tagging: @forgedcold, @fortwarden, @abuzzingofbumblebees, @incendiius, @sparkmender, @panickedforcefield, @polyhexianchicken, @blubrownrpblog and er.. anyone else that wants to? You can say I tagged you or whatever.

MY MUSE IS.   canon / oc / au / canon-divergent / fandomless

is your character popular in the fandom?  YES (???) / NO.

is your character considered hot™ in the fandom?  WELL… / NO / IDK. (I think he’s hot...)

is your character considered strong in the fandom?  YES / NO / IDK. (I think he’s strong as well considering he’s a load-bearer and whatnot)

are they underrated?  YES (???) / NO.

were they relevant to the main story?  YES (...???) / NO.

were they relevant to the main character?  YES (???) / NO

are they widely known in their world?  YES (As Ultra Magnus yes but as Minimus Ambus... No) / NO.

how’s their reputation?  GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL.

HOW STRICTLY DO YOU FOLLOW CANON?

I mean.. I try to follow the canon as close as I can. I’ve read the comics, anayalzed him to hell and back and just.. yeah. I follow canon, but I also add in my own twists here and there so that he’s still following canon, but still... different? If that makes sense.

SELL YOUR MUSE! (aka try to list everything, which makes your muse interesting in your opinion to make them spicy for your mutual.)

In my eyes, he is the ideal enforcer.. in that he isn’t biassed towards who he brings to justice. You can be an Autobot, Decepticon, Neutral, Alien, or hell even human and he’d still make sure you are given a fair trial with the proper lawyer because you still broke the law.

He is very sassy when he needs to be as in, he isn’t afraid to put you in your place, especially when he’s protecting someone. If you’re going to make assumptions about someone, 10/10 he’s going to shove facts into your face about how WRONG you are and then proceed to ripe you a new one all without so much as twitching once. I love this.

Despite being stern and seemingly emotionless, he’s not really. He just keeps all those emotions inside for the most part and rarely shows them. He is essentially selfless, caring and willing to protect anyone who needs protecting. He has issues of his own, but he’s willing to put said issue to the side to take care of your issues and your wellbeing because those matter to him more. The moments he allows himself to open up and be vulenable for just a second it.. it truly is heartwrenching, but in a good way.

NOW THE OPPOSITE! (list everything why your muse could not be so interesting (even if you may not agree, what does the fandom perhaps think?)

He’s a work-a-holic, in that he will put his work before anything else. Even at the expense of his heath. He’s stubborn like that.

He doesn’t know how to relax or have fun, at least in the ways others do. While others want to get rip-roaring drunk and party, he avoids those sorts of scenes at all costs and may even start to issue citations because there are rules being broken.

Oh yeah.. he’s a stickler for rules. Will never break one no matter what, so that can make him a kill-joy. He’s also prone to cleaning obsessively because of his OCD and anxiety and just doesn’t know how to strike up a proper converstation.

WHAT INSPIRED YOU TO RP YOUR MUSE?

I’ve been wanting to RP as Ultra Magnus / Minimus Ambus for like the longest of times since I came across him in the comics the first time he came out, but I was so shy and had anxiety about tackling such a big role. I kept putting it off because I didn’t think I could portray him correctly or others wouldn’t like how I wrote him. I finally gave in though because someone I admired wanted me to try after I mention wanting to try my hand at him and since I gave up so many others I wanted to RP as, I thought this time.. I’m going to do it and so I did. While I do still have some anxiety regarding my portrayal among other things, I’m enjoying myself and I’m glad others are actually enjoying my portrayal as well. You have no idea how much that means to me really. Besides I just.. find him so interesting really. He’s a gentleman, intelligent, resourceful, handsome (in my eyes), loves the arts and needs to be loved honestly.

WHAT KEEPS YOUR INSPIRATION GOING?  

I guess the fact that I’m enjoying writing this muse and that others are enjoying him as well? Really, if it wasn’t for some of you I probably wouldn’t have taken on Minimus and just wondered about it like I did with other muses I wanted to try my hand at.

SOME MORE PERSONAL QUESTIONS FOR THE MUN.

do you think you give your character justice?  YES / NO. (I mean I feel like I do yet don’t???)

do you frequently write headcanons?  YES / NO.

do you sometimes write drabbles? YES / NO.  

do you think a lot about your muse during the day? YES (I do that with all my muses honestly...) / NO.

are you confident in your portrayal?   YES / NO. (This is rather laughable really)

are you confident in your writing?  YES / NO. (HAH!)

are you a sensitive person?  YES / NO. (...It depends I guess?? Sometimes I can be and sometimes you have to try harder than that bucko)

DO YOU ACCEPT CRITICISM WELL ABOUT YOUR PORTRAYAL?

I wouldn’t mind it yes? As long as it’s CRITICISM and not just flat out hate like I have recieved before. Telling me the way I’m writing the muse sucks isn’t going to help me get better. You’re just insulting me. Tell me how to improve. Give me tidbits and or hints. Provide helpful criticism. Some of you don’t know how to do that and it shows.

DO YOU LIKE QUESTIONS, WHICH HELP YOU EXPLORE YOUR CHARACTER?  

I think everyone does really. It helps not only you but your muse as well. It helps you get a better feeling on your muse and expand their background and whatnot, so yeah. I do.

IF SOMEONE DISAGREES TO A HEADCANON OF YOURS, DO YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY?  

Not.. really? Considering it’s my headcanon and it’s my interepation of the muse, not theirs. I mean I’m open to new headcanons and if I like it, I may addapt it to my own but I also can refuse it if I feel like it doesn’t fit with my portrayal. If you don’t like my portrayal, you’re welcome to unfollow. Not that hard really.

IF SOMEONE DISAGREES WITH YOUR PORTRAYAL, HOW WOULD YOU TAKE IT?

...Unfollow? I feel like I’m doing a decent enough job on my portral. If you don’t like it, unfollow and move on. Simple.

IF SOMEONE REALLY HATES YOUR CHARACTER, HOW DO YOU TAKE IT?

Everyone has their likes and dislikes. It’s how the world is. How people are. If you don’t like my muse, that’s fine. I don’t care. Just don’t send me messages about it or whatever. I don’t care for that shit.

ARE YOU OKAY WITH PEOPLE POINTING OUT YOUR GRAMMATICAL ERRORS?  

I don’t mind as long as they’re not an ass about it... Like calling me stupid or an idiot. Not everyone can write perfectly or even speaks / writes English. Remember that. Some of us also have issues with speaking and or typing. Remember that.

DO YOU THINK YOU ARE EASY GOING AS A MUN?  

I mean.. I like to think I am? Besides my horrible social anxiety and other problems, I try to be nice and friendly. If someone sends me something, I try my best to reply to it in a timely manner. I try my best not to bother people too much but at the same time, I try to be supportive and caring if I see someone is down or needs help with something. I don’t ever rush others for replies since I know real life always comes first. I also don’t force interactions or shipping or what-have-you. I’m just here to have fun and write, which I’m sure a great majority of us are. Having said that, if you ever want to message me or get to know me, please don’t be afraid to do so. I’m not a mean person by any degree really. The only time I’m rude if is someone is rude to me first, but that’s really the only instance. I don’t like to start conflict or drama. That sort of stuff causes me anxiety anyways, so yeah.. Enjoy yourselves, okay?

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #274

“now i can hear the marching feet / they’re moving into the street”

What color was the last swimsuit you wore? I only have a black one. Is your dream job attainable? I mean define “dream job.” I’d ideally be a meerkat biologist if I was willing to live in Africa and could handle even mild heat, but I can’t/won’t do either of those, so it’s not obtainable to me. I’d also love to be a paleontologist if I could travel and handle heat once more, but again, I can’t. My only *attainable* dream job is being a photographer, which I am aiming for. I’d LIKE to focus on nature/wildlife photography, but that’s unlikely to be able to support me, so. Do you have to go to school or work tomorrow? N/A Have you slept for longer than usual today? Yes, but only because of my nightmares. I tend to take at least two (though sometimes one) hour-long naps during the day because if I wake up once during the night, as I usually do, I’m fucked because I’m very likely to have an intense nightmare. It seems like the medicine I’m on wears off with consciousness, I guess. I only allow myself to sleep an hour at daytime because my mother has noticed if I have a nightmare, it’s usually no earlier than one hour into sleep. Even then I still have them occasionally. Have you ever taken classes for a musical instrument? Recorder in elementary school was necessary for whatever stupid reason, and then I played the flute for years. Out of school, I took guitar lessons for a while. I got semi-decent (at best I could do the intro to “Crazy Train” at normal speed, I think), but it didn’t last because it was annoying/time-consuming to build up the calluses that make playing painless, I was really bad at overthinking where my fingers were, and I just wasn’t invested quite enough. I’ll tell you, it gave me mad respect for guitarists, that shit isn’t easy by any means. Have you ever been on vacation with someone other than your family? Yes, though it was brief. I was a kid (okay, pre-teen, w/e) still in my separation anxiety from Mom phase and it was literally because of me we had to go home. I still feel shitty about it, though no one seemed upset at me. How old do you think you’ll be when you move out on your own? Who the fuck even knows anymore. Do you have a job? If so, where do you work? If not, do you want one? No; N/A; yes ultimately but no at the current moment because I have to keep watch over Mom. If you wear make-up, which brand of foundation/powder do you use? N/A Would you call yourself a “people” person? Nope. What is one change you need to make in your life this month? Just one??? What’s been tugging on your heart lately? My PTSD plus self-image has been very, very bad. What is the last thing you did that made you feel guilty? Mom had to clean up my cat’s projectile vomit even though she’s supposed to stay away from this kinda stuff through chemo. I literally cannot fucking touch vomit, never mind what came out of him that night. I felt like absolute fucking shit and I still do because WOW I’m a great adult right!! Do you have any physical traits that are bothering you lately? Like, everything. What kind of dog is your favorite? I’m biased to beagles. What was the last thing you received in the mail? A book. What is the last thing you wrote? Like, physically? My signature at the doctor’s office. Do you still care about the person you first kissed? Way fucking more than I should. Do you require a lot of private time? Definitely more than most people. Do you have any songs currently stuck in your head? I haven’t listened to it in forever for ~reasons~, yet “The Mortician’s Daughter” is stuck in my head badly and really needs to fuck off. What was the last song you downloaded? I dunno, I went on a download binge a while back. Have you ever read a really funny book? I remember at least one. “Bite Me” by IDR-Who. Some vampire satire. Have you ever done something humiliating while drunk? Never reached the point of being drunk. How would you react if your celebrity crush came to your door? fuckin YIKES I am NOT attractive rn go away Has your mom/dad ever walked in on you kissing or anything more with someone? HAHA my mom has always had the decency to knock, not so much his mom a;lwkejrewoei but the answer’s still no. What electronics are in your room? (DVD player, CD player, etc) This laptop, my phone, a Nintendo DS, my iPod… Do you have a box anywhere with special items you'll to keep forever in it? Yes, actually. Grew up calling them “treasure boxes.” Do you have any pictures of yourself on your bedroom walls? Lol no, I’d definitely prefer to not see myself as much as I can. That sounds melodramatic, but I’m being serious. It either depresses me or makes me angry. Does your dad collect anything? The Cleveland Browns’ football team stuff, for one. Maybe Carolina Hurricane stuff, too? Idk. I don’t live with him and don’t go in his “man cave” at his house often ha ha. What's better, a desktop or laptop? Explain. A laptop. Portable; that’s all the explanation ya really need. Do your parents still hide chocolate eggs around on Easter for you? Nah. What do you typically do on Easter Day? We go to my sister’s house to watch the kids do their egg hunting and open their gifts, then we usually go to Ashley’s in-laws’ for dinner. Is there anyone you literally need to exist? Apparently not. Thought so. Never let yourself into that state of mind. What would you prefer to get from a guy/girl: flowers, a hand-written poem, a picture he drew of you or a nice night out? Oh, a hand-written poem would wreck me, yeesh. Or a drawing. But any would be very sweet. Do you remember why you made the last mistake you did? I don’t know the most recent mistake, but probably because I’m just in general a terrified person who second-guesses or overanalyzes everything. Did you check how many calories the last thing you ate had? Yes. I’m back on my calorie-counting obsession again. Are your nails long or short? Short, always. I can’t keep them long. What is your favorite kind of cookie? Just the ordinary chocolate chip is fine. What was the last compliment you received? I don’t know. Who will be the next person you kiss? I normally delete this question because the answer should be so obvious, but I feel like just pointing it out that no one fucking knows who they’re gonna kiss next. It’s a dangerous mindset. Don’t make assumptions about what you’ll have even tomorrow. Have you ever made your own icon? Yeah, on many sites. They’re just about always just edits, though, not truly original work. What color is your computer mouse? It’s black. Have you ever been sung to on your birthday in a restaurant? Yes. Do you like black olives? I don’t like olives period. Do you actually think there will be a zombie apocolypse? Personally, no. I do think it’s scientifically possible, we already see this in insects, but I just don’t imagine it happening to humans before we’re our own downfall. Do you like the person you’ve become over the past years? Fuck no. Have you ever gone to church just to get a significant other? … No…? Have you ever punched a wall out of complete anger? No, that shit is terrifying. Are you really ticklish? YES don’t fucking touch me. How do you decide what you're going to eat each day? I just follow what I’m craving that day. How are you similar to your siblings? Different? Compared to Ashley and Nicole at least, I can’t think of any real similarities off the top of my head. They’re intelligent, motivated, outgoing, successful, yada yada, then there’s me. What's your favorite type of non-fiction literature? Autobiographies by people I’m actually interested in. Do you believe in souls? Soulmates? Souls, absolutely. Soulmates, no. It’s fairytale ideation to think your soul has a perfect match with another, hate to break it to ya. Favorite soundtrack? BITCH don’t make me choose between Shadow of the Colossus and Silent Hill 2. Fucking masterpieces. Pianos or guitars? *shrugs* Depends on the music and my mood. Did an animal ever bite you? Never seriously. How many languages do you speak? Only English fluently. I’m poor at German by now. Wiggly worms or bumble bees? Worms gross me out, bees are Good Boys. Religion? I don’t really identify with any. I just believe there’s some form of ultimate intelligence and essences beyond just the body, and that’s all I even pretend to know. Fog, thunder, or rain? Fog gives me that Silent Hill Vibe *Italian kiss* What regret keeps coming back to haunt you daily? The way I treated Jason after the breakup. If you could cure yourself of one allergy, what would it be? Damn pollen. Do you know anyone else with your name? Yeah. What would you be most afraid of happening if you were to visit Africa? Viruses or botflies. Where are you tempted to move to sometimes? I very legitimately want to live in Canada by now, but I won’t because I’m not moving that far from family. Who seems like they have the perfect life? I try not to make that assumption of anyone. Do you ever take pictures of negative moments? Does taking pictures of roadkill count???? lmao probably Do you think it would be a good idea to post photos of negative moments as well as positive? Well… I guess it depends. Like ngl, the pictures some people share of them having panic attacks to just show how fucking real they are definitely touch you, as do those depicting poverty, etc., BUT I really do think there are limits and also differences in motivations. What time zone are you in? EST. Would you ever post a picture of yourself crying on social media? Wow, speaking of. No. ^Why or why not? I am an UGLY cry-er, my man. But I also just don’t want people to see that, and it’s definitely not on my mind to take a picture during a breakdown. What was the last thing you cried about? My life. Have you ever held a newborn baby? Yes. Do you know anyone who has twins? Yes. Where do you buy calendars from? I don’t. Do you shop at the dollar store often? Not *often*, but we’ll stop by for a snack or something sometimes. Are you following in the career path of any family members? No. Do you feel you missed out on a lot as a kid? I guess in some ways. Who was that best friend you ever had? Sara. What color is your laptop? Black. What are five careers you think you’d be good at? My work history has shown I can’t do shit right. Are you thriving in your life right now? lmao no one is in 2020. Who do you have moral support from? My family, doctor, and a few friends. Who encourages you to go after your dreams? The same as above. Do you have people in your family who want you dead? Wow, I hope not. Do you have a walk-in closet? No, but my room at the new house will. :’) Not that I need one, it’s just pretty cool. How do you feel about people like Elon Musk, Bill Gates, and Jeff Bezos having so much power and control in the world? Do you believe that any one person should have so much power? Let’s be real, in our current world, money is power, and no one should have that much control of the world, especially if your intentions are bad. NOW I don’t know jack shit about any of those are far as morals go, but just saying. It’s dangerous. Has your anxiety alone ever prevented you from doing something you wanted to do? This is ACTUALLY the story of my fucking life. Do you enjoy reading stories and novels that are heavily stylistic, poetic, or unconventional or do you prefer your prose to follow a familiar grammatical structure? Okay, I LOVE those, like Johnny Got His Gun and The Handmaid’s Tale that’s kinda like, run-on writing. Just letting a train of thought go. Those are two of the most powerful books I’ve ever read and they’re both written in a unique fashion. Have you ever fallen for any sort of Internet-based hoax? (e.g., fake celeb death, satire news article…) I’m sure at some point, especially as a kid. Do you tend to read reviews before you watch a movie or read a book? What do you hope to get out of doing so? NO. I don’t wanna have any precognition. When you go to a concert, how far must you travel for the most usual venues you visit? Most are on the other end of the state, and NC is long, so. We’re lucky if they come to Raleigh. Do you rent movies frequently? I never do, really. What is your favorite thing to do outside? Take pictures or swim. What’s your favorite meal to cook? I don’t cook. What movie has been taken WAY too far, as far as sequels go? Oh, I’m sure there are some, but none immediately come to mind. I’m not that into movies. Do you refuse to eat certain foods because of what they look like? Yes. I am VERY poor at getting past how a food looks. What are you listening to? NSP’s cover of “Don’t Fear The Reaper.” It’s fuckin gorgeous. How much homework do you have tonight? N/A Are you wearing any bracelets? Yes; one that Sara got me as well as an ovarian cancer awareness one. What's physically wrong with you right now? JINKIES I just feel really lethargic like always. Do you take any medications daily? Ha ha thanks for actually reminding me I need to now. When was the last time you moved to a new house? Two years ago, and now we’ll be moving to a much better place by the end of this month/early September, finally. When it comes to relationships, are you the jealous type? Nah. Which gift cards do you have in your wallet? Idk actually. It’s not like I use it a lot. Can you remember the last time you felt ill? What was wrong with you? A few nights ago. I was extremely hot, dizzy, and pretty nauseated. I was fine, though. If you wear make-up, do you take it with you, to reapply throughout the day? Does your make-up stay for a long time after you first apply it, or do you find that you need to reapply often? Are you wearing any make-up atm? I pretty much never wear makeup so have never really had a reason to reapply it. I’m definitely not wearing any now. Does your kitchen have a theme? No. Do you like ice cream sandwiches? GIRL yes. Do you prefer earbuds or headphones? Earbuds. They’re more comfortable imo but more importantly block out exterior noise very well. Are you a fan of any independent films? ngl, I don’t know exactly what that is and I don’t feel like looking it up. Could you possibly write a successful novel? I very genuinely think some of the RP stories I’ve taken part in are novel-worthy, yes. I wanted to make them books when I was younger, but now I no longer do mainly because there are areas that are just way too fucking dark that I don’t wanna put out there but play massive parts in the stories, so like… Do you regularly watch the news? I never do. Facebook is my “news” source lmao. Who was the last person you video-chatted with? I don’t remember for sure, maybe some doctor? What do you want the theme of your wedding to be? I don’t really think about this, seeing as my mind has changed enough, and it also depends on what my partner wants, too. Have you ever been caught passing a note in class? Noooo, I absolutely hated passing notes because I was genuinely a good student. I only did so very, very rarely if another friend started it. Have you ever had dandruff? I have dandruff AND a dry scalp. It’s a wonderful mix. Have you ever gone through a phase of crushing on EVERYONE? Definitely not. Do you have any clothes with spikes/studs on them? I have a spiked choker, and I might still have gloves with studs? Can you remember what you last clapped for? My mom’s birthday! :’) Have you ever given a pet to someone else? Yes, with cats; we had to do that quite often when I was a kid because we had so many cats, none which we could afford to fix. Then we’ve done it with two dogs we just couldn’t handle. Oh yeah, I gave my iguana away too because he was too high maintenance for me, but also because he DESPERATELY needed a much bigger terrarium, which we couldn’t afford. I absolutely could not watch him in that tiny tank. I miss him a LOT, but he went to a wonderful home! The lady who adopted him sent me pictures upon pictures months after taking him in. Do you know anyone named Walter? No. What's your least favorite ice-cream flavor? Strawberry is fucking disgusting. And that’s coming from someone whose favorite fruit is strawberries. What's your least favorite song by your favorite artist? I’m not sure. There’s a handful that just don’t grab my attention that I don’t even remember them. What was the last good news you heard? I can FINALLY talk to my psychiatrist tomorrow. Who’s your favorite singer of all time? Probably Freddie Mercury. What airline do you fly most? Idk, I don’t really pay attention. I haven’t flown very often though anyway. Do you have a dog that is destructive? I don’t have a dog. What’s one TV series you’ve seen every episode of? Meerkat Manor is the most obvious, ha ha. Maaaaany times. Assuming you have Facebook, who last left you a wallpost? Probably my friend Sammi. Assuming you have hair, how are you wearing it today? It’s too short for me to “wear” it any particular way. It’s just… there lmao. Assuming you're not homeless, what kind of living arrangements do you have? I live with my mom in a house she’s renting. Have you or have you ever considered messing around with the same sex? I’m bisexual so you can guess I’m not opposed to it. Are you particular about any brands of food you will or will not eat? Are there any restaurants you refuse to go to? Brands, no. I don’t eat Chick-fil-a because they’re run by fucking homophobic bigots that monetarily support conversion therapy and other anti-LGBT projects. I’m not giving you any fucking money. What was the most current dream you can remember about? Do you generally dream every night, or hardly at all? It was actually last night, when I dreamed about accidentally running into Jason where I last knew he worked, and he was really hostile. If I don’t take my medicine, I always have nightmares when I sleep.

[tessatechaitea]

Kid Eternity #2

This cover says, "Don't look at who wrote it! Just look at how interesting these visuals are! Sucker."

In my review of Kid Eternity #1, I threw out a few theories on why Ann Nocenti's writing is so weird. After reading page one of this issue, I've thrown those theories out again but in a different way. That makes complete sense if you understand English idioms and also understand that everything Ann Nocenti writes is basically pre-trash.

This is page one of Kid Eternity #2 and it will probably get this review banned on Tumblr.

I have a new theory: Ann Nocenti asked what a Vertigo comic book should be and editor Tom Peyer probably joked, "They're mostly tits and profound nonsense." So Ann Nocenti's vagina gobbed in her underwear and she squealed with glee. "That's what I do!" she chortled merrily! I probably shouldn't abuse Ann Nocenti for writing things I don't understand. I have plenty of choices of other people to abuse for it: my elementary school teachers for not calling me out on doing just enough to get by; my junior high school teachers who let me get away with not putting any effort into big year-end projects (In science, we were supposed to make a stone age tool. I rubber glued a carved-to-a-shoddy point stick to another stick (which was worse than my friend Robert who put some pine needles into a split stick, calling the weapon "Ow"); in English, we had one project based on Romeo and Juliet (because all we did that quarter was watch and read various versions of the play) and I refused to do it because the teacher was wasting my time; in Computers, I found Dan Felipe's project, a trivia program, and I just copied it and used it for my own project (changing all the questions and line numbers and other things to make it seem like it wasn't plagiarized but, I mean, come on! In fairness to me, I only did it because the stupid fucking school changed computers halfway through the semester, dropping the TRS-80s for Apples and my project was relying on the Poke images of the TRS-80 to create an animated sequence)); my high school English teacher, Mr. Borror, for reading nearly everything I wrote in front of the class so that I began to think I was the wittiest fucker in Santa Clara High; my college teachers for some reason or another that allows me to not blame my own lack of ability; and probably my parents because if they were any good at their parental jobs, I wouldn't be writing a blog about comic books. In other words, I'm sure Ann Nocenti is a philosophical genius while I'm just a guy who blames everybody else for things I don't understand. Even if I truly felt Ann Nocenti was an underrated genius whose writings I'm incapable of parsing, I would never ask her to explain what she meant by this first page of Kid Eternity #2. I just wouldn't feel comfortable putting her on the spot like that. It's not up to the artist to explain their art to the foolish audience! Only the Christian Messiah bears that responsibility (and, let's face it, he wouldn't have had to explain every fucking parable if he'd been able to convince smarter people of his bullshit). So if it's up to me to interpret this first page gibber gabber, I suppose I should get to business. Or kill myself. I mean, killing myself would be easier and less painful. And I totally would kill myself before reading more Ann Nocenti comic books except I have plans to cut my toenails in a few months. Before I begin trying to understand this hogwash, I'd like to point out that if she'd written it as a sonnet, I wouldn't have a problem with it. I'd read it, think, "Yep, that's a sonnet!", nod my head in sage understanding, and then jerk off to the titties. But this is not a sonnet so it is not allowed to be obtuse simply for obtuseness' sake. So this fucking speech. First off, who is speaking? The serpent trying to fuck the naked lady? Is this the speech the serpent used on Eve to get her to eat the fruit from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil? Although if that's the case, how would talking about Buddha convince Eve of anything? I'll assume the serpent is omniscient (because he may or may not be Satan, depending on what holy men or con artists you believe but certainly isn't Satan if you're simply going by the Book of Genesis. I bet the serpent was God doing one of those Zeus things minus the rape. Zeus loved to trick people so he could get laid; Yahweh tricks people to test their faith). I guess since she had yet to eat from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil (come on, God! That name is terrible), she wouldn't know what she doesn't know and can't defend against any nonsense the serpent spews at her. Let's assume the art goes with the speech and it's the serpent speaking. So why is "God in repair" and what the fuck does that mean? And why is it followed by the statement, "Why not call the wisest man a freak?" Does the snake only speak in non sequiturs? Was that a stupid question since I already know the snake's dialogue is being written by Ann Nocenti? It is kind of refreshing to see that her dialogue style never changed in thirty years. The shit the serpent says on this page could be nonsense spewed by Coil from Nocenti's New 52 Katana. You know what? I don't have to continue this because, in the end, it's just a carnival barker's pitch to get people to believe in the freaks in his freak show. He's all, "What's the difference between freaks and religion?!" That's not a riddle I have an answer for. The only religious joke I know is "What do Noah's Ark and The Bible have in common?" That might be a joke that was extant before I came up with it but I did come up with it on my own. And I think the answer is so obvious I would be insulting the intelligence of all four people reading this. Oh, and the snake trying to fuck the lady? It's a tattoo on the Tattooed Lady. The reason the comic begins in a circus freak show? Because Kid Eternity is the newest freak on display! The opening sideshow scene is just one of Kid Eternity's dreams. The demon angel babies get into Kid Eternity's dream and when he wakes up, they've tied his hair to the floor which totally has him trapped for like three panels. That was a close one! Kid Eternity decides he can't truly know what he's doing unless he utterly knows himself. So it's time to get his brain probed.

Let me guess: Carl will blather on about synchronicity and dreams while Freud tries to figure out how big Kid Eternity's penis is.

Carl doesn't initially discuss anything. He's just the straight man for Freud saying all the typical things you'd expect Freud to say: penis this, envy that, fuck your mom, kill your dad, more penises, many more penises, everything is penises. But then he comes on fast and furious with his archetypes and collective unconscious and human mythology stuff, all the biggest Carl Jung hits (aside from synchronicity but I'm sure he'll get around to that later. Ann Nocenti isn't going to miss showing the readers all the knowledge nuggets she mined to make her brain big). If only Nocenti would spend as much time writing the story as she spends making sure the readers know she knows a lot of shit then maybe I would have kept reading this comic book. Meanwhile, Zeus wanders around looking for somebody to trick fuck, Madame Blavatsky hunts down the next best burger before she slips back to the past, Beelzebub and Judas wander through Limbo, Jesus gets drunk and falls off a bar stool, and a phone yells at a woman. That all happens on one page to make sure the reader remembers other things are happening. But why does Ann Nocenti spend two panels of that dense page on Madame Blavatsky when she could have updated the reader on the non-X-File FBI agents who will probably hate fuck each other before the story ends? I also wanted an update on the Buddha Christ Trash Child. But no! Instead Nocenti just moves on to more of her proof that she's read all about Freud and Jung and totally understands the shallow top layer of their theories and philosophies. I don't mean to say I know any more than Ann Nocenti! But I understand how little I know of Freud and everything she's had him say are things everybody knows about Freud from all the dirty jokes about him: ids, supermen, parental relations, and phalli!

Oh, that's why we didn't get an update on the dense update page; Nocenti needed a full page to document the hate/fuck.

My new Ann Nocenti writing theory: Ann Nocenti has never had an original thought. She simply reads things, takes copious notes of bits and quotes she likes, and then shoves them sideways into whatever script she's currently writing. No wait. She does have original thoughts but they're almost not worth having. Like "everything in life is a prison" and then proving it by stating a few things about life that can be cell-like. It's profound in that way that things are profound when you're on acid. If you don't think about it, you can find yourself nodding along going, "Yeah! Yeah! Everything is a prison! Life is a fucking prison!" But if you do stop to think about it, it's like coming down off acid. You start to see how that thought you had about how the number three ties everything else in the universe together because of the way the corners meet didn't wasn't as mind blowing as it was six hours ago. Although the rant you went on about how pressing play on the VCR remote play the show and pressing pause pauses it but then to unpause it you have to hit pause again when you should really hit play was pretty fucking good. Speaking of acid, I'm two-thirds of the way through the acid documentary on Netflix and it's fucking fantastic. I wasn't really thinking a lot about it but I was nodding along going, "Yeah! Yeah! Everything they're saying about acid is absolutely spot on!" throughout. I actually had to take a break because it was making me too happy listening to all Sting and Carrie Fisher tell their acid stories. I don't know why I didn't just spend five paragraphs discussing why the FBI agents were playing Scrabble while they fucked. It's probably just one of Sean Phillips' kinks. Oh, maybe they were just playing Scrabble and not hate-fucking. It's hard to tell because on the next page, Jerry asks Val if they can finally fuck and Val is all, "You're a nerd!" Then she slits his throat. But then in the next panel, his throat isn't slit and he's all, "You feeling better?" And she's all, "Yeah!" So I don't know what the fuck is going on and I don't really care. I've still got like eight pages of this mess to get through and I'd rather just nod along than try to understand it. And then just like last issue, Ann Nocenti sputters out a bit of writing that I totally agree with because I've said basically the same thing before. About how every day, I fall in love with some person I see on the street because of the smallest of things. And then I love them forever.

My story isn't as good but I once fell in love walking through the airport in Minneapolis. I was passing by an attractive woman and she was gazing off somewhere as I looked at her face. She was coming up on my right and then I glanced down at her breasts and back up at her face. And that was the moment she noticed me, as I glanced from her breasts to her face. And, catching me, she smiled and laughed and kept on walking. And I still love her to this day.

And for this page alone, I forgive all of Ann Nocenti's past (future?) transgressions and find myself eager to read Kid Eternity #3. Oh wait. I still have a few pages left in this piece of crap. I read a lot of books in college that I sometimes still say are my favorite books but I should probably just say they stuck with me because I know which books are almost always in my top five and a lot of the ones in college aren't those. But Edith Wharton's Age of Innocence always stuck with me. It's possible that I completely missed the message of the novel but to me, the book was about how true love only exists when it's unrequited. Archer Day-Lewis doesn't love Ellen Pfeifer more than May Ryder for any other reason than that she was the one he didn't marry. It seemed to me that Wharton was trying to portray how hard love is and true, phenomenal love only exists in the imagination. Only a love we can imagine can remain magical. Only when we love an object, or the imaginary person we've placed on a pedestal, can we evade disappointment in the reality and flaws of another actual human being. Being in love with Ellen Pfeifer was easy because she wasn't there for all those years. There were no fights or disappointments or multiple times accidentally walking in on her taking a huge shit. She was pure and beautiful and imaginary. But then again, maybe that wasn't the point of the book at all. I was young and romantic at the time and I still absolutely loved the women I'd had unrequited crushes on in junior high and high school while my college relationship was slowly circling the drain due to personality conflicts. But not due to sex. The sex was fucking great! Anyway, Freud and Jung decide Kid Eternity is in denial and they leave. Hemlock and Dog spread some new reality across the world via a computer virus. Madame Blavatsky starts making time go backwards, probably so she can vomit up all the Twinkies she ate and eat them again with their delicious creamy filling. And the devil and Judas wind up in a bar in Limbo with Jesus to make plans for Kid Eternity. There's probably a lot more going on but there'd be too much for me to process even if it wasn't confused by Nocenti's writing style. No wonder I gave up on this book after three issues. There's no way by the third issue I could remember anything that was going on, if I even understood it the month prior. Kid Eternity #2 Rating: C-. A confusing mess that's about 90% Ann Nocenti just vomiting out things she's read. Even the things that, with the benefit of the doubt, I want to believe sprang from her own philosophical musings, I can't bring myself to absolutely believe it. I feel like every thought and piece of dialogue she's placed in this story just came from piles of notebooks filled with notes she's made while reading other people's works. It's practically a collage of philosophical ideas and moral musings pulled from myriad sources and shoved into a Kid Eternity framework "written" by Ann Nocenti. Which could explain Nocenti's penchant for stilted dialogue. If she were making up all the character's thoughts, the dialogue would flow from one character to the next. But when each character can only respond with some profound thought Nocenti read elsewhere, it comes across like a ransom note, each word cut from the mind of somebody else and pasted as a reply to another bit cut from some other thinker, no relation existing between the two thoughts except the proximity relationship Nocenti has given them.

[ambrose-d]

We’re all having fun here!

Words: 3181

Murder Mystery human au!

Don’t look in the tags if you don't want to be spoiled for who the murder is!

“So...it was you..?...”His voice broke as he said it, emotion and heartbreak bleeding through his words.

“Mhm!  But don’t you worry, you’ll meet them again soon enough!” As he said that...

He lunged.

~~

It was Roman’s idea to go to an abandoned amusement park.  Roman Prince was 21 years old, and was full of idiocy.  He had green eyes and tan skin, along with dark blonde hair.  He always wore a white shirt with white jeans and a red ascot tie, you know, like a cartoon character.  He was the perfect boy, being athletic, pretty, and having an angelic singing voice.  Girls flocked to him like moths to a flame.  Except Roman wasn’t a fan of any of them.  He just wanted to be an actor in Broadway, being famous for his acting and singing, not his appearance. Roman had a twin.  The twin’s name was Remus Duke, as their parents wanted to give them different last names.  Remus was less than a cute baby, and they hadn’t wanted their perfect, cute child to seem related to Remus.  Remus was able to grow a mustache, purely to annoy Roman.  Remus had green eyes and super pale skin, sometimes wearing toxic green tight tube tops and very short shorts.  That is what he was wearing right now.  Remus had dark blonde hair as well, but had dyed a streak of it in the front gray.  Objectively, he was an on-fire garbage can.  Figuratively, of course.  Remus was very much alive and not on fire.  He was all for going to the theme park, thinking that he could do all kinds of stupid and gross stuff. Speaking of big words such as objectively and figuratively, the only person in the group that actually comprehended how much of an idiotic idea it was to go to the park.  Logan Croft was his name, and he was 22 years old.  He had ultramarine blue eyes and black, slicked-back hair.  He wore a black polo and a blue tie.  In addition to that, he wore square glasses and khakis. He was kind of stuck up and knew more words than you could even imagine.   Logan was also best friends, though he begged to differ, with a man named Patton Hart.  Patton was a bubbly kind of guy and was 20 years old.  He wore circle glasses and a light blue polo shirt with a gray cardigan wrapped around his shoulders, in addition to jeans.  He had light blue eyes and curly light blond hair.  He was the innocent type, the kind of person people want to protect.  Everyone liked him, even people who usually hated everyone. Emile Picani was the innocent type as well, in the same way.  Emile was 23 years old and was studying to become a therapist.  He was already very empathetic, so it was easy.  He wore a beige cardigan and a baby blue tie.   Joan Marco and Talyn Blattea were almost inseparable. Joan was 21 years old and wore an orange beanie, a t-shirt, and jeans.  Talyn was 20 years old and wore a sweatshirt tucked into some jeans.  They both were in love with each other, though would never admit it.

Damien Mendax was a pathological liar.  The left side of his face was burned and scarred, making him blind in his left eye.  This was caused by a house fire, and he went back inside to get his pet snake.  Damien wore a long sleeve, black shirt, and long black jeans. As the eight entered the park, Logan was looking very unimpressed by this whole thing.  As it was stated, Logan was very stuck up and serious, so it was no wonder that he was not enjoying this trip.  It was Roman that noticed it first. “What’s gotten on your mind in a freak, Bill Nye the Science Guy?” Roman asked, taking a break from spinning Patton so he could talk to Logan in clarity.  Also, something else about Roman’s character.  He can and will call the others nicknames that he thought of.  The others don’t mind, so Roman continued to do it. “Oh, I am just contemplating how much it is an injudicious proposition it was to do this,” Logan said dryly.   “In English!  You know I don’t understand the big, fancy words you use,” Roman complained. “I was thinking about how much of a stupid idea it was do come here,” Logan corrected. “Well, I think it’s a great place to be!  It’s fun and we’ll be able to explore what was once here!  Don’t you like looking around old places, Logie Bear?”Patton chimed in, making a sour face.  As he said that, a single magpie flying above them and cawing.  “Ooooooo, that’s a pretty bird!!”He exclaimed as he pointed at the Pica Pica. Logan sighed at how scatterbrained Patton was.  He looked up at the bird, deciding to just go with it.  “Ah, yes, a Eurasian magpie.  It is a lovely bird.  Very intelligent, too.”As he said that, the gates of the amusement park swung open.  That was because Remus pushed them open.  Logan simply rolled his eyes.  Only Remus could be that immature, wanting to be the first person to be inside the theme park.   “Oooo!!  It looks super duper spooky in there!!”Remus exclaimed, grinning.  Remus was very immature, “Remus, if you want to explore it, go ahead and explore it,” Damien said.  Damien spent the most time with Remus, so he was used to Remus’s immaturity.  It did get tiring after a while, so when he got annoyed with it, he’d just send him off to annoy Roman or Logan.  The task was easy enough, and Remus loved to annoy them both, separately or together.  Remus went inside the theme park, a huge grin on his face.  Damien and Logan simply sighed. “Let’s go inside, alright?”Talyn asked Joan, who they had been walking with and was trailing behind the rest of the group. “Which ride do you want to try and ride first?  The rides may still work, by some miracle luck.” Joan thought for a couple moments.  “The rollercoaster seems fun,” They said, shrugging.  “I always like the rollercoaster.  It is so exciting and fun.” As they said that, Patton looked at the two of them.  “Joan, could I talk to you for a bit?  And Talyn, you can’t listen to this, sorry.” Talyn and Joan looked very confused by this, but they both nodded.  “Thanks!” Talyn caught up with the group, still looking confused. “Do you guys know if Patton has any beef with Joan?  He wanted to speak with them privately...Emile, do you know anything?  You’re a therapist, so maybe you could’ve seen something?”Talyn asked, looking at Emile.  Emile simply shook his head. “No, I didn’t notice anything.  Sorry.  Maybe Joan borrowed some money and never returned it?”Emile suggested, shrugging.  He honestly did not know of anything happening, thinking innocently about it. Logan pursed his lips before saying, “It is most likely something personal, so I suggest that we do not question it anymore.  At any rate, shall we explore the park more?  Perhaps the rides and the park still have electricity going through the wires, but it hadn’t been turned on.” “Joan said that they wanted to go on the rollercoaster, so why don’t we find it and wait for Patton and Joan on the coaster?’ asked Talyn.  They all nodded, setting off to find the rollercoaster.  They found it after a while, boarding on to the cart.  They waited a couple minutes for the two before the park sparked to life like the night sky on the Fourth Of July, lights turning on all around them. “Ah, it appears I was right.  But that would mean that the roller coASTER-” Logan began to say before being cut off with the coaster turning on and starting to move. “Put on your safety measures, everyone!!”He yelled, clearly panicking at the rollercoaster turning on by itself.  Who wouldn’t, though?  The rollercoaster hiked up a hill before going steady on a level surface.  The people in the front, Roman and Logan, saw something in the middle of the tracks...or should I say..someone.

It was Joan, tied up and hopefully unconscious.  The roller coaster was going to run straight through them.

The scene seemed to go in slow motion, Logan and Roman trying to stop the cart and failing while the others looked so very very confused.  The sickening crunch of bones and the gushing of blood, freely flowing from the now open wounds.  The sounds of Joan’s death were so loud, even against the sound of the coaster.  It was screaming from Joan, probably instinctually.  Talyn was the third person to realize what had happened, just after Logan and Roman.  Talyn was sobbing, and the others realized like a domino effect.  First Emile, then Damien, and finally Remus.  It was not a pretty sight, them all coming to the understanding that their friend was dead. The ride was silent except for the sound of the ride and Talyn crying.  They all got off the ride and tried to comfort Talyn, though it was very hard because Talyn’s closest friend just got run over by a roller coaster.  Death wasn’t really something that you could fix, especially like that.  If you had a heart attack or something along those lines, fine.  But not like that. Just as they were comforting the person, Patton came strolling up like nothing.  “Hey, kiddos!  What’re you all doing?  Talyn, why are you crying?  What happened?”Patton asked, cocking his head to the side innocently. “Jo-Joan’s DEA-DEAD!!”Talyn howled out, burying their face in Roman’s shoulder.  Roman ran his fingers through their hair to potentially comfort them. “That’s horrible!  I was just talking to them, and I said that I would be right back, and when I came back, they were gone!  I guess I know where they went to!”Patton said, his grin turning to a frown. “Logically, we should contact the police and get out of here.  If someone killed Joan, they have the potential to kill other people,” Logan said.  Damien took out his phone and tried to dial 911.  He waited for an answer from authorities, though it never came.   “It appears that we cannot reach the internet, which means that whoever the killer is most likely made it so there is no internet in this area,” Logan conspired, shrugging a bit.  Talyn sniffled, pulling away from Roman. “Tha-Thanks, gu-guys..I-I’m gon-gonna g-go wa-walk arou-around to tr-try a-an’ cle-clear my he-head,” Talyn stuttered out, shuffling away from the others and towards the game section.  The others decided to head their separate ways for the time being.

After a bit, Remus was just going around, seeing if anything was in the claw machines.  He saw something large in one of them, so he walked over to that claw machine.  What was in that machine chilled him to the bones, something that made him scream.

It was Talyn’s head.

Almost immediately, the others came running.  They all looked worried and panicked, Damien and Logan appearing to already know that another murder took place.  Why else would Remus of all people scream at something that wasn’t major?  Once they were all there, it was dead silent.  Patton covered his mouth, Roman felt tears going down his cheeks, and Emile sobbed silently.  Logan and Damien remained stoic, but you could see the despair in their eyes.  You could see the despair in their expressions.   Pairs, they had decided.  Pairs of people to explore.  Logan and Patton, Damien and Remus, and finally Roman and Emile. Logan and Patton went around to the kiddie games and rides, much to Logan’s displeasement and Patton’s enjoyment.  Patton was humming a joyful tune as they walked, Patton keeping Logan’s hand in his own.  Logan kept his face stoic and emotionless as always, pushing up his glasses with his free hand. Suddenly, Patton released Logan’s hand and pointed in the direction of a ride.  “Imma go over there and see if that still works!  Stay here, Lolo!”Patton said, skipping over to the ride. “That defeats the purpose of pairs- okay he can’t hear me.  I minus well stay here,” grumbled Logan, looking forward and not at the ride. Suddenly, someone pushed him from behind, his glasses coming off in the struggle.  The person stepped on the glasses as the two moved, and his attacker pushing his head down.  They were right in front of a rubber duck pond, where little children played games to try and win prizes.  He struggled to breathe, though the person kept his head pushed under the water.  The world started to spin as he was forced to inhale the murky water.  He didn’t know how long he was under the water, but it was about a minute from what he remembered from his books.  His books didn’t matter anymore, he was drowning.  After the minute was up, the world faded to black... A scream rang out through the park.  Everyone came running like it was Black Friday and there was a really important and really good sale.  They all showed up to see Patton looking terrified, standing at the exit of a kiddie ride, pointing at the rubber ducky pond.  Bent over the pond was Logan, deathly still.  His glasses were about a foot away, shattered like they were garbage.   “I wa-was jus-just goi-going o-on th-the rid-ride bu-but h-he did-didn’t wan-want t-to g-go o-on th-the ri-ride s-so h-he wai-waited ou-out her-here an-and no-now he-he’s de-dead!”Patton babbled. Roman went over to comfort the man.  “Shh...It’s alright, Padre.  It isn’t your fault..it’s okay,” The twin said, soothing Patton’s hair. “Bu-But i-it i-is m-my fau-fault..!  I-If I-I had-hadn’t go-gone o-on th-the ri-ride..h-he’d b-be he-here no-now!”Patton sobbed out, clutching Roman’s shirt. So now they had two groups, Roman and Patton, then Emile, Remus, and Damien.  Damien would switch groups so each group had three members for equal amounts of time.  But, in the present moment, Roman and Patton were walking around the game section, looking for something to play.  If the rides still worked, maybe the games still worked.  They came across a high striker game, commonly known as the strong man game.   “Do you think I can hit the bell?”Roman asked as he picked up the mallet, or, well, tried to.  The mallet wasn’t there.  Roman turned around to see the hammer swinging straight for his head.  

Damien was walking around the game section, humming.  He was looking for Roman and Patton so he could join their group and make it equal.  Despite the situation they were in, it was peaceful.  He was enjoying this peace. No one to disturb him..oh..oh no.  He looked at a strong man game, seeing Roman, bleeding from his head and thrown over the lever like the dead man was the mallet.  From the bloody mallet beside Roman, it was safe to assume that the hammer was the murder weapon.  He could never, ever tell Remus this.  He did question where Patton was, though that wasn’t his biggest concern.

Damien walked back to his group, ushering Emile away from Remus.  “Roman is dead,” Damien whispered, making sure that Remus could not hear him.  Emile’s face turn from bright and bubbly to terrified. “You-You’ve got to be joking..?  Please tell me you’re joking,” Emile asked quietly, utterly petrified for his and the other’s safety.  Damien simply shook his head. “I wish I was joking...You go with Patton, I’ll go with Remus,” Damien suggested, receiving a nod from Emile as a response.  He turned back around to Remus.  “Alright, you’re going to explore with me and Emile will explore with Patton,” He explained.  Remus nodded. Damien and Remus set off to explore the food shacks, coming across one for fries and pizza. “Ten bucks that I’ll eat a slice of pizza!”Remus giggled as he said that.  Damien just looked tired, pulling out a ten-dollar bill and nodding. “Go for it, buddy,” Damien said with so much enthusiasm that it should’ve belonged to a dead man. Remus was idiotic.  That was very apparent based on the fact that he was eating God knows how old pizza for $10.  Remus ate the whole pizza and Damien gave him his ten dollars.  However, almost immediately after, Remus lost consciousness.  Damien caught him and checked for a heartbeat.  

There was no pulse against his hand.   Damien freaked out.  Remus, too?  Why Remus?  Remus already suffered from dumbass-ery, so why exaggerate that fact by doing something to the food?  Who knew that Remus was going to actually eat the food?  It had to be the murder. Damien felt hot tears start to leak down the sides of his face.  Remus was the only one that would actually give him a chance.  Someone had to take that away, but why?  What did the murderer have against them?  The man let Remus fall out of his arms, standing up.  He wiped his tears away and went to go find Patton and Emile. Once he had found them, they were just preparing to get on a drop tower. “Why don’t you join us?”Asked Patton, offering Damien a seat right next to him. Damien agreed.  How bad could it be?  As they all boarded the drop tower, his seat wouldn’t lock.  Before he could change seats, the ride suddenly shot up, leaving him glued to his seat because of gravity.  Once they reached the top, he panicked.  The only reason he was still on this was because gravity was working.  The ride let itself free fall, basically pushing Damien off of it.  Damien’s body hit the ground with a splat. Once the ride had finished, Emile got off immediately and went to go check on Damien.  Damien, of course, was very much dead.  Emile stood up and looked at Patton with terror in his eyes.

“So...it was you..?...”Emile’s voice broke as he asked it, emotion and heartbreak bleeding through his words.

“Mhm!  But don’t you worry, you see the others again soon enough!” As Patton said that, he pulled out a broken off carousel pole.  There were jagged and rough edges, perfect for murder.

Patton lunged at Emile, the pole right in front of him.

Patton was faster than Emile, because of course he was.  Patton was almost immediately in front of Emile, holding the jagged pole to his neck. “Say hi to Roman for me, he was always my favorite!”Patton chirped before running the sharp part of the broken off pole against Emile’s neck, blood filling the therapist’s throat and mouth.  “Sorry ‘bout that Emile, it was necessary!” Patton let Emile’s limp body fall to the ground as he walked away.

Patton was gone, leaving behind all his past friends that had passed on.  He couldn’t say he was sorry, either.  

[my-creative-hell]

Crush (Teen au)

“Ah man…” Hannah huffs, rolling her eyes as she looks at the partner list for their science projects, clearly displeased with her chosen work partner. The first half of the science period had been decent, and now it felt like it was all going to go to shit.

“You can’t say that, I didn’t say ‘creeper’ yet.” Grave smiles at her terrible joke, Hannah snorting slightly in response, finding the sheer ridiculousness of the joke entertaining.

“Mhm… I got paired with fucking Kevin.” Hannah groans, frustration already building at the thought of working with him. “This science projects is gonna be hell.” She pinches the bridge of her nose in annoyance as she thinks.

“Fuckin K e v i n, he smells like stale chips and bad old people candy.” Grave returns Hannah’s groan with her own as she talks.

“Ugh, he’s so annoying…” Hannah frowns as she opens her eyes, looking over at Kevin as he sits down at his desk. “I’m gonna have to force him to cut his shit out.” Hannah talks more to herself, trying to figure out a way to make this situation work in her favour.

“I could do a thing to make him stop. It wont be violent, promise.” Grave speaks quietly, preventing anyone except for Hannah from hearing her words.

“Nah, it’s fine. I’m sure I can come up with something…’ Hannah laughs, a calm smile resting on her face. “Sides, you’ve got your own partner to focus on…” She reminds Grave, gesturing towards the sheet.

“Yee!” Grave nods as she happily plays with her fingers, only aware she was partnered with someone named ‘Rose’.

“Do you even know who Rose is?” Hannah questions, smirking in a mischievous manner as she see’s the entire situation unravelling before her before it had even begun.

“Nope!” Grave smiles obliviously, making Hannah laugh, unable to take it seriously any more, the innocent look on Grave’s face too much to handle.

“Oh boy… you are in for it…” Hannah continues to laugh, transitioning into cackles as she looks at Grave, finding this all too funny.

Grave keeps her smile on her face despite the huge rush of bad nervous energy that runs through her now at Hannah’s words.

“No, its nothing bad, just… you know what I’ll just let you find her and introduce yourself.” Hannah flashes Grave a warm smile as she stops laughing, calming down.

“Mhm, that doesn’t make me feel more nervous at all!” Grave lies, her nerves only getting worse as she listens to Hannah.

“Oh my jeez- Grave, I promise its all fine. Look, she sits at the back of the room in the corner. Just go find her and get this project started, I’m gonna go deal with Kevin.” Hannah smiles at Grave before rolling her eyes as Kevin beckons her over to his table to start their own work.

“Okay” Grave silently flips Kevin off as she moves away from Hannah, who snorts as she sits with Kevin. Grave goes in search of Rose, whom she now knows is sitting in one of the corners at the back of the room. It doesn’t take long to notice her sitting by herself reading a book instead of paying attention in class, her messy bob of curly hair swinging into her face as she ignores everyone around her.

Grave now understands why Hannah was laughing as her heart struggles to stay silent in her chest as she approaches Rose slowly.

“Hi…” Grave’s voice is quiet as she speaks, Rose looking up from her book, bright blue eyes staring Grave in the face.

“Hello, are you my assigned partner?” She questions, voice calm and soft, her facial features indifferent as she watches Grave.

“Yes!” Grave smiles happily as she looks at Rose, who watches her momentarily before shifting her stuff off of the table, providing space for Grave to sit down, keeping her book in front of her.

“Feel free to sit.” Is all Rose says as she packs away her unnecessary things, Grave happily obliging, sitting down to start work on the project, her face donned with a slight blush as she does. Rose sits silently beside Grave, half paying attention to the work as she blocks out the class around her by opening her book again, reading quietly.

“I-I see you like books…” Grave comments, looking over to Rose for a moment before flicking her eyes back to her work, a small smile playing on her face as Rose pauses her reading, looking over at Grave.

“Yeah, I dunno, I find it fun I guess…” Rose explains as she watches Grave for a moment, studying her quickly.

“Is that your favourite book?” Grave asks as she smiles happily, Rose flicking her eyes away to her book again.

“I think so yeah, I mean, I’ve read it a bunch, so…” She gives Grave a small shrug, though she doesn’t look uncomfortable or annoyed.

“What do you think we should make for the project?” Grave’s feet tap happily against the floor as she talks to Rose, mouth stretched into a wide smile.

“Well, it’s about atoms, right?” Rose puts her book down as she thinks, looking down at the desk absently in thought.

“Y-Yeah!” Grave nods as Rose scrunches her face in thought, taking a moment to come up with an idea.

“What about a moving model atom? To kind of show how they work?” She suggests, glancing at Grave from behind her hair.

“Yeah! That’s a smart idea.” Grave smiles happily as she looks at Rose, catching her eyes for a quick moment.

“Oh, thanks…” Rose has a very small smile tugging at her lips as she turns her head away, not wanting anyone to see it.

“You’re welcome!” Grave’s feet tap against the ground more as she smiles, Rose continuing her reading to distract herself from the strange feeling in her stomach, though she keeps listening to Grave in case she’s needed.

Grave begins drawing concept ideas for the mechanisms, focusing on her work as she plans it out, writing instructions and ideas down as Rose reads. But eventually the teacher, Lisben, catches on from her desk at the front, glaring at Rose, forcing her to put down her book. Rose instead watches Grave work silently, observing her drawings as she does them.

Grave doesn’t pay attention, unaware she is being watched as she continues to work, her face serious as she maps out their plans, her intelligence shining through as Rose watches. After a while, Rose’s eyes shift more to Grave herself, observing her face and skin without thinking about it. The strange feeling in her stomach grows, making Rose shift, looking away from Grave as she fiddles with her curls for a distraction from the situation, feeling strange.

Grave pauses her writing, looking down at the paper in front of her as she thinks, trying to figure everything out as she works. Rose remains silent beside her, writing some of her own notes to further distract herself from her nerves, her hair shifting to cover her face up as she leans forward, writing in her notebook.

Grave’s eyes flick over to Rose, a blush appearing on her face slightly as she notices, though she keeps herself from saying anything, not wanting to embarrass Rose or make things awkward.

“How long do we have to finish this project?” Rose doesn’t look up as she asks the question, keeping her attention focused on her notes.

“Two weeks.” Grave smiles happily as she explains, watching as Rose nods, her curls bouncing slightly as she moves.

“We should probably get it started as soon as possible… otherwise we’ll never get it all done in time.” Rose mumbles slightly as she speaks, thinking to herself.

“You can come over to my house if you’d like and we can start today?” Grave offers, keeping her voice low as she talks, feeling a little more nervous as Rose looks at her.

“Yeah, sure… I’ll meet you in the cafeteria after school, sound good?” Rose explains her plan in an equally quiet tone.

“Yeah!” Grave blushes lightly as she smiles at Rose, happiness rushing through her as Rose gives her a small smile of her own as the bell goes off, signalling the end of class.

“I’ll see you after school then.” Rose explains as she quickly packs away her things, giving Grave another smile as she walks out of the classroom, slinging her bag onto her back as she does.

Grave feels overwhelmingly happy as she gathers her own things into her bag, though she doesn’t get up from the table, sitting down as the rest of the class leaves the room, except for Hannah.

“So, how’d that go?” Hannah smirks as she walks over to Grave, dragging her bag behind her.

“Gayly.” Grave grins happily. “What about you and Kevin? Did you get to punch him?” Grave asks, making Hannah laugh.

“Nah, he’s learning not to be a prick.” She explains, a warm smile on her face. “But hey, you seem to like her quite a lot, hm?” Hannah teases, her smile turning into a smirk.

“Oh n o, I hate her extremely.” Grave rolls her eyes as her sarcasm leaks off of her tongue, making Hannah snort.

“Mhm, that’s why you were blushing so much…” She continues to tease, playfully poking at Grave.

“Ah yes, because I blush when I hate someone, Hannah.” Grave giggles at her own sarcasm. “Of course I like her, how could I not?” She questions, Hannah shrugging in answer.

“Dunno, some people think she’s kinda cold… though I knew you’d get along with her.” She smiles cheerily, nose scrunching.

“I have my ways, Hannah. I have my ways.” Grave leans back in her chair dramatically, swirling her hand as if she is holding a drink in it, Hannah laughing at the stupid image.

“And now you’ve invited her to your house, where you get to have one on one time… together. So, good luck with that.” Hannah smirks, raising an eyebrow suggestively to annoy Grave.

“Thank you, if I happen to die from cuteness, please play the most ass-clapping, knee-slapping, toe-tappin music at my funeral.” Grave smiles as she gets up from her desk to walk to her next class.

“Sure, it’s a promise. Whats your next class?” Hannah walks alongside Grave as she questions her, keeping pace despite being almost a foot shorter than her.

“English!” Grave smiles happily as Hannah considers something, pausing for a moment.

“You know, from the little I know about Rose, and its not much, I’m pretty sure that’s her favourite subject.” Hannah offers Grave her knowledge with a smile, knowing she would find some way to use it to her advantage.

Grave smiles happily, small giggles escaping her as she learns this new information, making Hannah laugh in response.

“You have known her for a half hour, how are you in this deep already?!” Hannah questions, laughing out of exasperation at the ridiculousness of the situation. But Grave isn’t listening, too busy thinking about Rose, her mind consumed already.

“Look, I got math, so I gotta skeedattle, but have fun in English, I’ll see ya later.” Hannah lightly pokes Grave to get her attention, waving as she walks to go to her own class.

“Bye, Hannah!” Grave waves as she walks down the hallway, though she stops as she hears noises, able to hear two defined thud noises not too far away from her.

Concern spikes inside of Grave as she quickly runs towards the noises to find out what’s happening. It doesn’t take long before she is able to see Rose lying on the floor, a large guy Grave knew didn’t attend their school standing over her menacingly.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing exactly?” Grave questions, fear and anger running through her as she tries to intimidate the guy in front of her. He turns, allowing her to see his tall stature and malicious looking face.

“Could ask you the same fuckin question… giving a bitch what she deserves.” He answers her, stepping closer to Rose as he speaks, his tone low and ominous.

Grave’s anger only spikes more, leading her to step in front of Rose quickly, blocking her from the large guy.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He questions, voice low and threatening as his expression darkens, angered.

“Oh nothing, just goin to class, beating up a guy, going home. Y’know, a normal Tuesday.” Grave jokes, though she couldn’t be less happy at this moment as the man frowns.

“Look, just get out of my way so I can get this little shit back where she belongs.” The man proposes, trying to intimidate Grave, though she just puts her hand under her chin, pretending to think about it.

“Hmmm… now why should I do that, exactly?” Grave questions, pissing the man off more as he looms over her.

“I don’t know what you’re playing at kid, but unless you want a broken face, I suggest you move out of my way.” He threatens in a low tone, staring down at Grave.

“Uh… yeah no.” Grave steps closer to the man. “I’m not gonna let you do jack shit to her.” She threatens in response, a sick smile spreading on the mans face.

“But fuckin late for that, already got her in the face… guess you fucked that up.” He sneers, face twisted and grotesque as Grave watches him, rage growing by the second.

“Look, man, how about you leave and maybe… just maybe, I wont have to turn you inside out…” Grave sighs. “Oh fuck it, you’re not gonna be scared of that.” Using her prosthetic arm, Grave throws a solid, and very painful punch, into the mans face, easily shattering his nose, giving off a satisfying crunching noise.

“You little fuckin bitch…” He snarls as blood drips down from his nose, staining his clothes and leaving marks on the polished floor beneath them.

“Yes, I am a bitch, but at lest I can kick your ass.” Grave comments before giving him a well placed kick to the groin. “Or your dick.” She comments as she watches him buckle over slightly.

“Why the fuck do you give a shit, this isn’t any of your business.” The man hisses out, his pain obvious, written all over his face as he tries to stand up properly.

“Its my business because I’m not a prick and I’m not gonna watch someone get beat.” Grave laughs, throwing a harder punch into his face, shattering the little that was left of his nose as he leans over in pain.

“Fuck this shit… I’m coming back for her so watch your ass.” The man threatens as he takes off, cradling his nose as it leaks blood all over the floor, leaving a trail behind him.

“I love you too!” Grave laughs as she turns to look down at Rose, concern flooding through her. “Sorry Rose…” She pauses as she looks down at her, realising she likely hadn’t heard anything that had just happened, since she didn’t seem to be conscious right now. Her left eye has a gash below it that is slowly leaking blood over her face, the eye itself already starting to bruise, blossoming over her warm skin, looking painful and angry.

Concern immediately floods through Grave as she kneels down in front of Rose, quickly cleaning away the blood from her face, trying to take care of the wound as well as she can in the hallway. Once Rose’s face is relatively blood free, Grave carefully picks her up, running through the empty hallways as quick as she can. The running seems to stir Rose slightly, her eyes half opening as her brain struggles to understand what’s happening around her.

Grave continues to run, not even noticing as she leaves the school campus, running home as fast as she can, reaching speeds a human probably shouldn’t be able to reach, not that she was focusing on that right now, too concerned about Rose as she runs. By the time Grave reaches her home, Rose is swimming in and out of consciousness, teetering on being half awake as she struggles to comprehend what is going on.

Grave keeps going, seemingly clipping through the doors of her house before she reaches her personal lab room, where she gently places Rose down on the table before searching for her medical equipment in the room. As she lies on the table, Rose starts to wake up slightly, following Grave with her eyes as her brain starts to return to itself slowly.

Grave manages to gather her medical supplies, preparing them as she shakes slightly, trying to keep calm. Rose follows her more with her eyes as she slowly regains her consciousness, her brain starting to put the situation together piece by piece.

“Oh, hi! You’re awake.” Grave sounds concerned as she turns to take care of the wounds, slightly surprised when she finds Rose looking at her.

“…Grave?” Rose questions, her voice quiet and weak as she looks confused, watching her with sluggish eyes.

“Yeah… h-hi Rose…” Grave keeps her voice hushed as she speaks to try and keep Rose comfortable.

“…What happened?” Rose pushes herself off of the table, trying to sit up slightly as she speaks.

“Uh… you got hurt badly so I had to bring you to my house because I have proper medical equipment here and now you’re on my table.” Grave explains, smiling nervously as she gently pushes Rose back into a lying position, her hands warm and gentle.

“I got hurt?” Rose looks at Grave carefully, the pain not setting in due to shock as she lies on the table quietly, confused.

“Yeah. Sorry I couldn’t come earlier to stop you from getting hurt but… at least you didn’t get more hurt!” Grave tries to look on the bright side.

“Not your fault…” Rose sighs gently, wincing as the pain starts to come, a dull ache spreading over the left side of her face. “Could’ve been worse…” She explains in a weirdly calm tone.

“True, but… its still not okay.” Grave reasons, leaning close to Rose’s face as she begins to clean the wound properly, Rose closing her eyes to help her as she does.

“Mhm…” Rose mumbles as the pain comes through more, the shock wearing off as Grave works, cleaning around the wound, a lot of Rose’s makeup coming off as she does.

“Hey um… i-if you’re okay with me asking, how’d you get this scar? O-On your nose?” Grave frowns slightly, the worn off makeup revealing a scar running across Rose’s nose, looking like it had been a pretty deep wound when it was done.

“Mmmm…” Rose thinks for a moment, trying to remember as her pain gets worse. “It got broken a few years back… a big dude did it…” She recalls calmly.

“…Sorry that happened to you… and sorry that guy is such a dick.” Grave frowns more as she talks, keeping her voice soft.

“Hm… its alright, nothing I’m not used to, thought he’d be done though… trying to convert me and shit.” Rose laughs quietly, not thinking about what she was saying.

“Why is he trying to convert you?” Grave asks in a soft voice, feeling more concerned than ever as Rose laughs again, opening her bright blue eyes to look at Grave for a moment.

“Maybe cause he heard me tell another girl I was gay… just a guess.” Rose closes her eyes again. “Got rejected anyway.” She jokes, snorting quietly.

“I’m gonna kill em.” Grave mutters, feeling anger boiling inside of her, though none of it was directed at Rose.

“Ha… no point, they’ll leave me alone eventually.” Rose gives Grave a gentle smile as she keeps her eyes shut.

“Sooner is better than later. I’ve beat their ass once and I’m not afraid to do it again.” Grave explains, her anger building.

“Not worth making them your enemy, if you beat them bad enough they’ll probably cut it out…” Rose explains calmly, trying to diffuse the situation.

“Good, I’ll do that. You seem nice, Rose. I-I don’t want you to get hurt.” Grave mumbles the last two lines, Rose frowning slightly as she opens her eyes again, turning them to Grave.

“I’m fine, its nothing I can’t handle… are you okay?” Her question is calm and gentle, all her worry reserved for Grave instead of herself as the strange feeling in her stomach returns.

“I’m fine! You’re more important right now.” Grave insists, smiling slightly as she reassures Rose.

“I’m fine, I’ve had worse…” Rose gives her a smile of her own, blue eyes boring into her, making Grave stare at her wordlessly for a moment.

“U-Um, is there anything else that’s hurt?” She asks as she snaps herself out of it, Rose thinking.

“I might have sprained my hand… but I can’t be sure.” She shrugs, seemingly unbothered by the potential of another injury.

“Oh! Um…” Grave is unsure of how to do this next part. “C-Can you close your eyes for a second?” She requests, Rose looking confused, though she doesn’t argue, silently complying and closing her eyes as Grave gently grabs her hands.

“Now um… w-which hand is it?” Grave asks, Rose flinching slightly as her hands are held.

“Right hand…” Rose determines, frowning slightly out of pain and confusion at what Grave is doing.

“Thank you.” Grave sighs gently, bringing the hurt hand to her face and planting a soft kiss on top of it.

“…It stopped hurting.” Rose admits, looking more confused by the second as this fact runs through her mind, making her doubt her senses.

“Y-Yeah.” Grave is blushing as she answers, her entire face flushed as the worry that Rose will be mad floods through her mind.

“…Why did it stop?” Rose flex’s her hand gently, opening her eyes to look at Grave in confusion.

“I-I um…” Grave looks down at the ground as she speaks, her voice so quiet not even she heard the words leaving her mouth.

“…You what? I didn’t catch that…” Rose frowns in confusion as she watches Grave.

“I…I k-” Grave curls in on herself, becoming a ball. “I-I k-kissed it…” She admits, afraid to see Rose’s reaction.

“You kissed it?…” Rose questions, pushing herself off of the table to sit up as she watches Grave.

“Y-Yeah… are you mad?” Grave asks the awaited question, peeking slightly to look at Rose.

“I don’t think so? Confused, yes… mad, probably not…” Rose only looks confused as she answers, looking down at Grave.

“Oh… good!” Grave giggles slightly, her entire face blushing as she does, making Rose lean forward, giving Grave a very close view of her face and eyes.

“Are you okay?… You’re really flushed…” Rose comments in a soft voice, face inches away from Grave, allowing her to see every detail.

“I-I’m fine!” Grave blushes harder, knowing that if Rose does anything else her cheeks will only get worse.

“Are you sure?…” Rose questions, her expression concerned as she presses a cool hand to Grave’s forehead. “You’re really warm right now…” She comments, frowning.

“Your eyes are pretty…” Grave speaks her mind as her cheeks begin to emit a soft glow, small but noticeable. It was true, now they were so close Grave can see that Rose’s eyes are two different types of blue, one colder and one warmer, subtle enough in difference that you would never notice at a glance. But now that Grave was staring into them, it couldn’t be more obvious.

“M-My eyes?…” Rose looks taken aback, her cheeks flushing lightly, her brain unable to process the subtle glow coming from Grave’s as she struggles to understand the intimate compliment she had just received.

“Yeah! They’re beautiful… just like you…” Grave continues, Rose flushing in response, her entire face going red.

“I-I, um…” Rose bites her lip gently, dragging her eyes away from Grave as the feeling in her stomach grows, making her unbearably nervous.

“S-Sorry for making you uncomfortable…” Grave is concerned, looking at Rose as she snaps her head back to look down at her.

“No! You didn’t, I just…” Rose’s face switches to worry as she looks at Grave. “… Phone.” Is all she mutters as her face twists.

“D-Do you need one? Did you lose yours?” Grave questions, her concern flaring up again as Rose sits back down on the table, biting her finger gently between her teeth.

“I think I dropped it when he… yeah.” Rose sighs, looking at Grave. “I gotta go… my aunt is gonna worry and that’s never good.” Rose explains, looking worried and tired.

“Do you want me to drive you? O-Or do you wanna go there yourself?” Grave questions carefully, wanting to keep Rose as calm as possible.

“No its cool, I got it… gonna be a fun time explaining this.” She laughs as she carefully gets off of the table. “Look, thank you for helping me, I really appreciate it…” Rose smiles softly, eyes lighting up.

“Y-You’re welcome.” Grave smiles so hard her cheeks start to hurt as Rose gives her another soft smile as she heads to the door.

“I um… I’ll see you around.” She gives Grave a small wave as she leaves the room, heading out of the house silently.

Grave waves back as she leaves, silently becoming a ball on the floor once she’s gone, heart pounding and face flushed as she replays the situation in her head again and again, trying to figure it all out.

 “…So, you wanna tell me what the fuck happened?” Hannah questions bluntly as she stirs her hot chocolate. It had been a week since the ‘incident’ and Grave was currently sat in a coffee shop opposite Hannah after not leaving her house to go to school, subsequently being dragged outside when Hannah decided she needed to get out into the real world. And so here she was, sat opposite her friend, being questioned about what Grave had now decided was a crush, and a very serious one at that.

��Maybe I do, maybe I don’t…” Grave blushes as she looks down at her cup full of nothing but espresso shots, a concoction she probably shouldn’t be drinking, not that that would stop her. Hannah sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation.

“Grave, neither of you have come into school this week, at all. Somethin happened, and I would like to know what.” Hannah expands on her point, frowning as she looks at Grave.

“Well I uh… I kinda…” Grave giggles as she tries to get the words out, Hannah raising a single eyebrow in questioning.

“You kinda… what?” She asks in a neutral voice, bringing her drink to her mouth to take a sip as she listens.

“I gib… her kiss!” Grave giggles happily. “On her hand… it was to heal it but still.” Grave explains, Hannah looking surprised, putting her drink down slowly.

“And then what happened?…” She questions, intrigued and serious looking as she talks to Grave.

“I was blushing a lot a-and she was concerned and she put her hand on my forehead and hhhh god she was so close to me and her eyes were so beautiful.” Grave continues to giggle, blushing as she recounts to Hannah, who frowns slightly.

“Yeah, she has heterochromia in her eyes.” Hannah explains. “Then what?” She questions, pressing Grave for more details.

“Hhhh she was blushing and then she had to leave because she forgot her phone and her aunt would be worried and she said that’s not good so she left but!!!” Grave covers her face. “Aaaa she s m i l e d at me!” She exclaims happily, Hannah giving her a small smile, though it isn’t the most convincing.

“Well that’s good at lest, but Grave… do you know who that was that attacked her?” Hannah asks, her voice and face more serious looking now as she speaks.

“I dunno, but she said he’s been trying to convert her and he’s hurt her before.” Grave explains, a small amount of anger building as she explains to Hannah, who nods.

“Yeah, well that’s true. I’ve been doing some recon for you, cause apparently I’m that friend.” Hannah snorts. “And I found some stuff…” She trails off, looking at Grave.

“What did you find?” Grave’s curiosity peaks as she looks at Hannah, wondering what would be the next thing to come out of her mouth.

“Well, first of all, that man? Yeah, that’s her dad’s friend… Rose lives with her aunt cause both her parents are nut cases who are trying to ‘convert’ her…” Hannah huffs in annoyance. Grave’s anger floods through her, though her face remains calm looking as she silently listens, afraid that if she were to open her mouth she would only get angrier and start yelling.

“The good news on that is that her aunt is a genuinely sweet person who cares about her and is trying to get her parents put in jail…” Hannah gives Grave a small smile.

“Fuck yeaaaah.” Grave talks under her breath, a slight sliver of happiness presenting itself among the anger, making Hannah laugh.

“Yeah, well I’m still worried I gotta admit…” Hannah trails off, thinking for a moment about what to say next.

“So am I, but I’m glad her aunt didn’t get the asshole genes.” Grave giggles quietly as she talks.

“That’s true, I saw her come in to get Rose’s stuff after that shit happened.” Hannah explains, a frown playing on her face. “But no one’s seen Rose at all this week.” She continues.

“Oh…” Concern crashes down on top of Grave as she hears that, Hannah looking nervous, something that was rare.

“Yeah… I did manage to find out that her aunt might be forcing her to come back on Monday, but I don’t know what kind of mood she’s gonna be in.” Hannah explains, eyes watching Grave intently.

Grave looks away as she drinks her coffee of death, concern only growing inside of her as she does, Hannah watching it happen as she sighs, gently poking Grave’s face.

“You wanna know something good I learned about Rose?” Hannah questions, enticing Grave with a smile.

“…Yes please.” Grave keeps her voice quiet despite the small ray of hope shining through, making Hannah laugh quietly.

“…I found out that Rose loves, and I mean loves space. Like everything to do with it. Its like her favourite thing.” Hannah explains, a smile stretching over her face.

“Yay.” A small smile comes over Grave’s face as her mind works, already thinking of ideas and plans.

“I can see the cogs whirring in there.” Hannah laughs, gently poking Grave in the head again. “What you thinkin?” She questions, curious and intrigued.

“Oh, nothing…” Grave lies, looking down at the table as she smiles, Hannah rolling her eyes in amusement.

“Liar, come on, I might be able to help…” Hannah smiles, trying to encourage Grave to tell her.

“I wanna… I wanna get her some…” Grave cuts herself off with a giggle. “I wanna get her space gifts!” She explains.

“Oh… you gonna give them to her anonymously?” Hannah questions, her brain clicking into gear.

“…I didn’t think of that, but that’s a good idea.” Grave comments, Hannah laughing at her response.

“Well, I do have a small bit of experience in this field.” She teases Grave lightly. “How bout we finish here, and we can go find some gifts for her, hm?” Hannah offers, smiling.

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Grave giggles, feeling happy as Hannah gives her a warm smile.

“Good, I think this’ll be good for both of you.” She chugs her own drink, which may or may not have still been hot, not that Hannah cared. Grave’s drink is gone too, and somehow she’s fine, despite the ungodly amount of caffeine she just consumed, too happy to properly listen to Hannah.

“Come on, lovesick, lets go get some shit.” Hannah snorts, getting up from the table, grabbing Grave as she does to pull her up.

Grave happily follows as Hannah walks her out of the shop down the street, dipping into the less populated area, containing all the antique and random shops, clearly knowing where she was going.

“So, we want everything space themed, have you thought about how you’re gonna sneak them to her without her knowing its you?” Hannah questions, looking at Grave as she drags her along by the hand.

“No!” Grave smiles as she admits that, Hannah pausing in front of a shop with Grave to think.

“Hmmm, well her locker is near yours, right? Shouldn’t be hard to figure out the combination… she has a class with me so I can always sneak some stuff in… stuff like that?” Hannah offers her ideas to Grave, looking around as she thinks it through.

“Uh… yeah, sounds good.” Grave agrees, going along with everything Hannah says, due to the undeniable fact that Hannah was in a relationship, and Grave very much wasn’t. Hannah laughs as she pulls Grave away from the shop they are standing in front of, clearly having another destination in mind.

“Okay, I have the perfect shop, just wait…” Hannah pulls Grave along through the shops, ignoring all of them as she ploughs forward, clearly excited for some reason.

Grave happily follows Hannah as she pulls her to an even more unpopulated area of shops, almost no people around them as they walk. Hannah doesn’t stop for a few more minutes before she finally brings them both to a halt.

“I found this shop a while ago… and now I think its exactly what we need.” She explains, the shop they are standing in front of seemingly dedicated to all things space themed and related. Everything Grave can see in the windows and inside the shop has to do with space in some way.

“Fuck yeah!” Grave’s face is covered by a wide and excited smile, making Hannah laugh at her eagerness.

“Come on, let’s go get some space things.” Hannah smiles as she pulls Grave inside the shop. “What kind of stuff do you wanna get her?” She questions, scanning the shop around them.

“Hhhh I dunno, something cute!” Grave isn’t thinking straight as Hannah pulls her over to a section of the shop.

“I’m thinkin some pins, maybe a book or two, and you should definitely give her a necklace at the end of it, but that’s gonna be hand delivered.” Hannah explains her plan to Grave carefully.

“Frick y e e.” Grave sounds excited, her cheeks glowing slightly, displaying her feeling point blank as they do.

“Okay, I’ll pick a few books for her, you can pick the cute things, sound good?” Hannah offers, already looking over the shop for things she could look at.

Grave is already gone, looking at all the different cutesy items in the shop as Hannah wanders to the book section, perusing the shelves in search of books Rose would likely enjoy. It doesn’t take long for Hannah to identify four books, two factual and two fiction that she trusts Rose would enjoy reading, checking over the rest of the books as she wanders over to see what Grave is up to.

“Look!!!” Grave bounces as she proudly presents Hannah two teddy bears, one an alien and the other an astronaut, both ridiculously cute.

“Oh my, I think she’ll love those.” Hannah laughs as she looks at them. “Did you find anything for the necklace?” She questions, intent on helping Grave where she can.

“Not yet, but I’m looking for it!!!” Grave exclaims happily as she looks around, making Hannah smile.

“Oh boy, how cheesy are you gonna be?” Hannah laughs as she moves around, following Grave as she flits around the shop.

“I don’t fuckin know! All I know is that these are soft as shit so I’m gonna get them for her.” Grave explains as she bounces on the spot, her cheeks glowing more as Hannah laughs.

“That’s a good plan… you know, I did see something she might like as a necklace…” Hannah trails off, smirking as she scans the shop.

“S h o w.” Grave looks way too excited, making Hannah smile as she gently grabs her, pulling her over to the jewellery section where she pulls off a necklace, the charm an astronaut carrying a galaxy heart, presenting it to Grave.

“I think she’d like that a lot.” Hannah explains as she holds out the space themed necklace.

“Fuck yeah!” Grave gasps happily, wiggling as she looks at the necklace, Hannah laughing at the sheer amount of excitement present on her face.

“Alright, calm down. I’m gonna go pay for this and then we can figure out how we’re gonna pull this off, sound good?” Hannah smiles as she wanders towards the cashier to pay, Grave watching happily as they begin to set their plan into motion.

 As Hannah had said, she did indeed have a class with Rose, allowing her to slip one of the teddy bears into the room unnoticed before the class while Grave slotted the books into her locker for her to find between classes. Rose did come in on the Monday, Hannah watching as she picked up the teddy bear in their shared class in confusion and muted delight, slotting it carefully into her backpack for the rest of the class, eyes looking a little bit brighter as she did.

The books were discovered over the next couple of days, Rose coming to her locker to find them, unsure how they got in there, but intrigued by their topics can covers. By Wednesday, Rose had found all of the books that had been purchased for her, stashed anonymously inside her locker. She tried not to think about it too much, going about her day as normal, though she kept an extra eye out to see if she could catch whoever was randomly gifting her things she liked.

Having found no clues, she sits in her shared class with Grave at the end of the day, side by side as they work on the project assigned to the both of them. Grave admittedly was doing most of the work as Rose sits beside her, absorbed in one of the fiction books that had appeared inside her locker, eyes scanning over the text as she leans forward, hair covering her makeup-free face, and the remnants of the injuries she had received from the ‘incident’, the bruising green and yellow, the cut almost healed, a small scar beginning to form in its place.

Grave remains quiet beside her as they work, all too aware of the book she is reading, not saying anything to interrupt her despite the overflowing excitement running through her as she watches. Rose appears to be interested in the book as she reads through it, trying to keep half of her attention away from it in case she is needed for project work, despite Grave clearly having the higher intellect of the two.

“I see you got a new book…” Grave looks over at Rose, wiggling a tiny bit out of excitement as she tries to hush her voice, Rose looking over at her for a moment before she turns back.

“Uh… yeah, I-I don’t really know where it came from though…” Rose tries to explain, giving Grave a small smile.

“Ah! Mystery book boi.” Grave taps her feet lightly against the floor in excitement and happiness as she makes her dumb joke, Rose laughing quietly as she looks back at Grave.

“Its so weird, all of a sudden I’m getting a bunch of space things, and-” Rose frowns as she thinks about it, biting her lip gently. “Its so weird…” She continues, looking down at the table.

“B-Bad… weird? Bad weird?” A small amount of concern sticks into Grave’s mind, making her speak softly as she questions Rose, who looks at her with a soft expression.

“I-I dunno, I hope not.” She smiles gently as she thinks, her smile falling from her face slightly. “I-I guess I’m just hoping it isn’t my parents…” She explains in a careful voice, laughing at herself. “But I guess that’s kinda stupid…” She admits, looking down at the table.

“Nah, its not stupid.” Grave reassures Rose in a soft tone, her face slightly flushed at the sound of her laugh as she tries to quell her concern, Rose putting her head in her hands.

“I guess its cause I never told anyone I like space so much… so getting a bunch of stuff is super sweet! But its weird not knowing who it came from…” Rose explains, her voice quiet so the rest of the class don’t hear their conversation.

Grave’s desire to tell Rose only increases, though she keeps her mouth shut and stays silent, a smile etched into her face as she watches Rose.

“Someone said I must have a secret admirer…” Rose laughs as she closes the book to talk to Grave. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s true, nice thought though.” She smiles as she thinks about it, eyes flicking over to Grave.

“I think it’s very possible…” Grave keeps her voice as quiet as possible, though a small flush covers Rose’s face as she hides it away.

“That’s nice of you to say.” Rose giggles lightly. “But I don’t really have friends, let alone… yeah.” She explains, nonchalant and calm as she can be.

“…We could be friends… if you’d like.” Grave almost whispers her offer in an effort to contain herself, Rose blushing as she hides her face.

“…I-I’d like that…” Rose smiles behind her hands as she speaks, using all her effort not to look at Grave.

“Yay!” Grave keeps her excitement quiet, though the blossoming smile on her face shows it perfectly, making Rose give her own smile behind her hands, skin flushing as she looks at Grave.

“What do friends even do? I-I’ve never had one…” Rose laughs at herself as she speaks, eyes watching Grave intently.

“Friend shit! Like um… hang out with each other and do some dumb shit sometimes cuz y’know… everybody id a little dumb sometimes.” Grave giggles as she explains.

“I guess that’s true, I don’t think I’ve ever hung out with anyone outside of school…” Rose laughs, fiddling absentmindedly with her hair.

“We could do that…” Grave wiggles as she continues, her excitement building. “We could do it today, if you want…” Grave offers, too happy to explain as she speaks.

“Today?” Rose turns to look at Grave in surprise, revealing her entire face to her finally. “Like… after this lesson today?” She continues, eyes boring into Grave.

“Yeah!” Grave’s heart flutters as she gets to see Rose’s face, though a slight twinge of concern flows through her at the sight of her injured eye.

“Um, sure! I, I’d like that!” Rose smiles happily at Grave. “Um… how long do we have till class ends?” She questions, Grave grinning.

“Now.” Is all Grave says, the bell ringing off to signal the end of the class as she smiles, Rose looking surprised by her accuracy.

“Oh, um… okay!” She smiles again, looking at Grave with curious eyes. “What did you wanna do?” She questions happily as she slowly begins to pack away her book.

“There’s a park down the street from my house, we could go over there is you want?” Grave offers as she starts packing up her things.

“Yeah, that sounds fun! I haven’t been to a park in like… years.” Rose smiles happily as she packs her bag.

“Frick yeah!” Grave jumps up as she finished packing her bag, walking to the door, though she lingers back for Rose, who follows her happily as she slings her bag onto her back.

“Lets go!” Rose follows Grave quickly, a smile stretched over her face as she speed walks over to her.

Grave giggles as she leaves the classroom, her happiness overwhelming her as Rose follows along, keeping pace with Grave easily due to her taller stature, happy as she walks down the halls with her.

They leave the school, heading towards the park together as Rose happily follows Grave. The walk is comfortable in silence, Grave accidentally brushing her hand against Rose’s out of the desire to hold onto it, Rose smiling happily as they walk, giggling gently.

This only makes Grave blush more as she takes a further step, gently intertwining their hands together, Rose not moving away as she holds her hand, gently swinging them as they walk together at a fast pace.

Grave keeps up the pace easily, her happiness growing each and every second as she walks with Rose, who looks incredibly happy herself as they move, and it only gets worse when she see’s the park, her eyes lighting up in excitement.

Grave looks up at Rose as they enter the park, smiling happily. The smile is returned tenfold as they wander inside.

“So, where do you wanna go?” Rose questions as they walk inside the park, looking to Grave with an excited expression.

“Swings!!!!” Grave tries to keep her cheeks from glowing out of excitement and happiness.

“Nice!” Rose happily pulls Grave over to the swings, their hands intertwined comfortably as they move.

Grave sits on the swing, her face unable to stop smiling as she tries to suppress the glowing that would surely happen if she gets any happier, Rose sitting on a swing beside her. As she sits down, she reaches onto her wrist and pulls out a hair band, pulling her curly hair back and tying it away from her face, allowing Grave to see the entirety of her face for once.

Grave blushes even more, her cheeks glowing lightly as she begins swinging, Rose following her lead and swinging gently, dragging her feet on the floor slightly, enjoying the feeling of the motion.

“Um… can I tell you something?” Grave keeps her voice hushed despite the happiness she feels as she looks ay Rose.

“Sure, you okay?” Rose looks at Grave, her face open and innocent as she watches her.

“I’m good actually! But um…” Grave giggles as she prepares herself to speak. “I-I’m the one… that gave you all of that stuff.” Grave explains, her voice quiet and light, Rose taking a moment to process what she has heard.

“…You what?” Rose checks, unsure that if what she had heard was what had actually come out of Grave’s mouth.

“Y-Yeah… Hannah told me you like space sp I um… I-I got you stuff.” Grave explains, her cheeks lightly glowing, subtle but visible.

“You went out of your way to get me things you knew I would like?” Rose questions, blushing slightly out of surprise and confusion.

“Y-Yeah! There’s actually something I wanna give you right now…” Grave explains, reaching into her bag to grab the small box containing the necklace, handing it to Rose, who carefully opens it. Her eyes land on it, and it barely takes a second before visible tears are welling in them, threatening to spill down her cheeks.

“I-I’m sorry!” Grave quickly backtracks, concern flooding over her at the sight of Rose’s tears, though Rose quickly shakes her head.

“No, no! I’m not sad, I just… don’t understand why you would get me something this sweet.” Rose laughs as she explains, looking down at the necklace with teary eyes.

“Its because I um… I-” Grave giggles as she struggles to get the words out, Rose watching her intently, bright blue eyes looking at Grave with a soft stare as she waits for her to finish.

“I love you.” Grave admits, her cheeks glowing brightly as she smiles at Rose, who gets off of her swing as she watches Grave, her brain working overtime as she tries to process everything.

“Y-You… huh?” Is all she can say as she struggles to understand, tripping over her own feet in her panic and fluster, landing on the floor as she falls over herself.

“I love you!” Grave giggles as she stands up, Rose sitting on her ass on the floor, covering up her red face with her hands as she sits.

“I-I love you too…” Her voice is quiet as she speaks, almost afraid to say the words, even though she knows the feeling is mutual.

Grave giggles as she sits down next to Rose, leaning in to give her a gentle kiss, Rose moving her hands away from her face in surprise. When Grave pulls away, she can see every little detail of Rose’s makeup-free face, including her scar and the freckles that run over her warm skin.

Grave blushes more, leaning in despite that to plant a kiss on Rose’s lips, Rose somehow managing to return the kiss despite her brain working overtime, her face flushed and warm.

Grave glows more as she leans back, Rose looking at Grave with a warm smile passing over her face.

“T-That was nice…” Is all Rose can comment as she looks at Grave, taking in all the details of her face as if she might forget them.

Grave is too giggly to respond, making Rose laugh in response, turning her head away to try and quell the burning in her cheeks, leaving Grave to look at the left side of her face, where her bruise and cut reside.

Grave presses a gentle kiss onto the bruise and cut, watching them melt away from her skin, leaving no marks behind, Rose scrunching her face at the sensation, though it turns happy as she looks at Grave again. She carefully places a kiss on Grave’s forehead before getting up, dragging her along gently.

Grave giggles more as Rose helps her up, her cheeks glowing out of happiness as she watches Rose carefully put on the necklace, beaming when she turns to face Grave.

“I am never taking this off, by the way.” Rose says seriously, her face happy and flushed.

“I’m glad!” Grave giggles gently as Rose smiles, gently pulling her in and encasing her in a soft hug, head resting on top of hers as her arms wrap around Grave, enveloping her in the safe feeling warmth. Grave happily returns the hug, snuggling into Rose as she wraps herself around her, each of them providing the other with a warm and safe feeling space they would gladly return to again and again now that they had the opportunity to.

[katsukiyuuri-nikiforov]

Miscommunications in the Margin of Language

AO3 here

It takes Yuri all of 72 hours to realize other-Yuri speaks Russian.

It isn’t something that’s hard to figure out.

Of course, other-Yuri isn’t obvious about it. He never speaks it- though, if Yuri had to guess he’d say the pig is probably perfectly capable- and he doesn’t participate in the conversations between Viktor and him, never even going as far as to nod in the appropriate places. But he listens, and sometimes Viktor will give Yuri a correction, and other-Yuri follows the order without a second thought, straightening an arm, or standing up taller, even though he’s all the way across the rink.

And he listens to the conversations with a detached ear, occasionally letting out quiet huffs of laughter at some of Viktor’s more ridiculous turns of phrase. He just sits and listens, even as he appears to be doing something else; stretching or bandaging his feet before tying skates, or even just brushing Makkachin. Yuri knows from experience that listening to a language you don’t understand for that long can be trying; music is your best friend is foreign countries.

And when Hiroko mentions that other-Yuri studied languages and linguistics, well, it suddenly clicks into place, confirms what Yuri is pretty sure he’s known since the first day.

He doesn’t think much of it. Takes stock of the knowledge, adjusts his conversations with Viktor accordingly, privately acknowledges that other-Yuri is clearly very intelligent (Not only does he know three languages, but three completely different alphabets too. Yuri is fairly certain he wouldn’t have graduated without at least passing literate comprehensibility in his chosen languages (it doesn’t surprise Yuri in the least that he chose Russian) ) and moves on.

~

Yuri anticipates other-Yuri’s arrival is Russia with trepidation and excitement, in that order, not that he’d ever admit that out loud.

He’s found that Yuri is far better company than Viktor, quiet and supportive and caring in a way that doesn’t make Yuri feel like he’s being suffocated.

So when Viktor asks him if he wants to come to meet Katsudon at the airport he grumbles a lot but agrees before Viktor has enough time to rescind the offer.

By the time they arrive, other- Yuri is already waiting by the carousel, watching as the bags spin past with an impatient expression on his face.

“Lubov! We’re here!” Viktor practically drapes himself across his fiancé, and Yuri tries hard to stifle his snickers when other-Yuri jumps, and pushes him off, before turning to Yuri.

“Yura! How have you been?” He asks, wrapping arms around his shoulders in a bracing hug Yuri wants to hate but can’t.

Yuri doesn’t bother answering in English, ‘Fine, now get off me!’

Other- Yuri raises an eyebrow, but shrugs and let's go, moving to grasp Viktor’s hand in his own. The old man doesn’t seem to notice, and Yuri can’t help but wonder if he knows yet, or if he’s really just that dense.

He wonders if other Yuri knows that he knows, or if he to doesn’t even really differentiate between the languages anymore then Yuri does when he spends enough time in an English speaking country. They start to blur together. He doesn’t care enough to ask.

Two days later and other- Yuri and Viktor are in the rink, up before dawn, and skating before even Yakov is there. Skating in Russia is different than skating anywhere else. They work harder, longer, and Yuri doesn’t think that other-Yuri is going to be able to handle it, but it’s noon already by the time Yuri gets on the ice, and they’re both still there, Viktor watching from his position on the rink- even though Yuri’s pretty sure he’s supposed to be warming up- as other- Yuri runs through his step sequences. Even Yuri admits they’re beautiful, at least, he admits it to himself, he’s always thought so, but the love lorn look on Viktor’s face has gone so past professional admiration, past coach-ly pride, and into sickeningly in love that Yuri shouldn’t be held responsible for his actions. He’s a child and the lust in Viktor’s eyes is most certainly not appropriate. He’s saved from possibly having to go to jail by Yakov, who’s screaming Viktor’s name the minute he spots him hovering on the ice. Other- Yuri doesn’t falter, only adjusts his position so he’s occupying the corner of the rink Yakov had just told Viktor his student could use. Viktor doesn’t seem to notice that other-Yuri’s already there, already keeping his position, only relays the message in English, and turns to face Yakov, but Yuri notices, and judging from the squinty glare Yakov is throwing the other- Yuri, so did he.

Practice continues in the same vein. Viktor and other-Yuri show up for practice at obscenely early hours for Yuri’s private rink time. Their practice over laps for about two hours, with other-Yuri’s cool down and Viktor’s warm up, and then Yuri disappears sometime in the middle- Yuri later finds out it’s for ballet, with Lilia, who genuinely seems to like him- only to return towards the end to watch the last of Viktor’s private ice time with Yakov, who also seems to genuinely like him. Yuri isn’t sure how other-Yuri managed it, but everyone at the rink seems to love him. He even heard some of the ice dancers whispering in the lunch room yesterday about how good he was for Viktor.

About two weeks in he’s pretty sure that everyone at the rink is aware that other- Yuri has at least a passing comprehension in Russian except his own fiancé, who continues to translate random phrases that he deems important. He catches Yakov speaking quietly with him in Russian over the edge of the rink, Viktor nowhere in sight, and while other-Yuri is definitely answering in English, he’s obviously having no trouble keeping up with Yakov’s brusk manner of speech.

It’s a struggle to decide whether to point it out, or watch patiently for it all to explode in a million pieces. He can just picture it, other-Yuri’s tomato red face when the truth comes out. Part of him wants to see it, other-Yuri’s impending embarrassment, but the rest of him knows that this whole predicament is obviously Viktor’s fault (maybe Yuri should have said something but really, it’s been obvious from the beginning!) So he decides it’s probably best if he asks because, like everyone else, he’s fallen for his stupid, irresistible charms and he actually likes him. Even if he’d rather cut off his own foot than admit it. He’s pretty sure other-Yuri knows anyways.

“Can I ask you a question?” They’re in the locker room. Yuri is starting later than normal today, and other- Yuri must just be leaving for his ballet lessons with Lilia.

Other-Yuri pauses in untying his skates.

“Of course Yura. Is something wrong?” He sounds so genuinely concerned, and Yuri wars with the desire to yell at him for it, or hug him. There’s something so unerringly disarming about his presence that Yuri’s had to stop himself from doing exactly that at on multiple occasions.

“I just- well.” He hates himself for his stuttering speech. He could blame it on the English, which he still tends to use with other-Yuri out of habit, blame it on the fact that he’s barely spoken it at all in months, but he’s pretty sure nobody would believe him, least of all Yuri, who is startlingly observant at times (and unsurprisingly oblivious when it comes to himself).

Other-Yuri is sitting up straight now, efforts of unlacing abandoned, and he’s got a frown so deep on his face Yuri thinks that he’s probably going to pull a muscle.

“Yura?”

“Yeah, just, Viktor doesn’t know you speak Russian.” He says it quietly, calmly, it’s probably the first time he’s said something to other-Yuri that hasn’t been screaming or an insult, but he doesn’t even look surprised. Of course he doesn’t. Because other-Yuri can see through him like he’s made of glass, knows exactly what he means even when he’s saying the exact opposite.

Other-Yuri visibly flinches, and glances surreptitiously at the door behind Yuri’s shoulder, like double checking that no one’s there to hear them. He looks so guilty that Yuri almost feels bad for asking. “No, he doesn’t”

Yuri doesn’t respond, only raises an eyebrow for him to continue.

“I- he, well. You know I studied languages, da?” And, wow, the fact that Viktor doesn’t know when other-Yuri is using Russian replacements for what he knows were once Japanese and, maybe once upon a time, English, colloquialisms without seemingly any thought is simply astonishing.

Maybe he thinks his boyfriend- fiancé says a voice that sounds uncomfortably like Viktor’s- picked it up from him, but they’ve only been in Russia two weeks. Maybe Yuri’s over thinking this, but, even if he is it still should be obvious. He doesn’t say any of this though, only nods, once, slowly, and waits for the Katsudon to continue.

“Well, he knows I studied linguistics and languages. My kaa-chan, ah… my mom, she told him, first week he was there, same as she told you. I honestly thought he knew for the longest time, Yuri, really. I wasn’t keeping it from him on purpose, I mean, I also speak French, a little German, conversational Thai, it’s.. it’s not uncommon knowledge in the skating circles that I’m, well, interested in languages,” Yuri almost laughs out loud here because interested is not the word. He would have used gifted, maybe. He’s allowed to admit these things in the safety of his own head. “anyway, he spoke in Russian a lot, those first couple of months, and it dwindled, a little, but it picked up again after we-” he stops, coughs, normally Yuri would complain but he doesn’t actually mind and right now isn’t the time. “Never mind, I’m getting off track. My point is, I thought he knew until Barcelona, when he started translating things for me, and even then I thought it was a joke, but then he started translating for Chris, who thought it was hilarious by the way because I love Viktor but my French is better than his, and when I finally realized… It’d been months, Yuri, and then I remembered everything he’d said in Russian and I realized those were probably not things I was supposed to understand. It wasn’t anything terribly interesting just, god I’m so embarrassed? And he still hasn’t noticed and-” His breath gets a little heavy and Yuri, in all his bluster and teenage angst, knows that his anxiety is worse than he lets on, knows because he understands.

“Hey, wow, Katsudon… Yuri. Can I touch you?” Other-Yuri pauses, then shakes his head and takes a deep breath.

“I- I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to…”

Yuri shakes his head raises a hand to pat his shoulder, remembers his original refusal, and drops it back into his lap. Yuri notices, of course he notices, and smiles at him, small and trembling.

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind. You’ll just have to return the favour sometime, da?”

Apparently that does actually surprise him, this small display of weakness, not, Yuri thinks, because it is actually a weakness. Because it isn’t, no matter what Katsudon or anyone, or even Yuri sometimes thinks. He isn’t sure if it’s Yuri’s own admittance of it, or the actual fact that surprises him though. It doesn’t matter anyways.

Other-Yuri sighs, and reaches out tentatively to grasp his his hand, nods solemnly. Yuri doesn’t bother pulling away, there’s no one else there to see it.

The conversation ends there. Yuri doesn’t point it out when Viktor continues to translate random snatches of conversation, although, he does roll his eyes more, usually in view of Other-Yuri, and has to stifle laughter when Yuri in turn shoots him exasperated, pleading looks behind Viktor’s back.

Other-Yuri starts taking him out to lunch on the weekends, when Viktor’s at the rink and it’s both of their days off.

Yuri still snarls and scoffs and hurls insults, but now other-Yuri just smiles sweetly and raises a challenging eyebrow, like he’s asking if that’s all Yuri’s got. (It isn’t. Of course not. But he doesn’t actually want to hurt the Katsudon’s feelings so…) They fall into an easy sort of companionability, and, he will even admit out loud, for Katsudon’s ears only, that he enjoys it.

He’s friends with Otabek, obviously, and Mila, sort of, and he had a handful of friendly acquaintances before he started doing all his course work by correspondence, but Yuri, (who has recently given him permission to call him Yuu-chan, if it made things easier (Yuri did, in private because he was sort of honoured- he looked things up alright?)) was different, he didn’t demand anything of Yuri, didn’t expect anything of him, and, when he was feeling particularly vulnerable, held up his promise without question. They were friends, equals, which is why Yuri is trying to signal him to stop talking.

They’re at the rink, it’s Viktor’s day off, and they’re standing at the boards talking. (Yuri had finally managed to convinces other-Yuri to actually speak Russian, instead of just listening, because he was never going to improve if he didn’t, Yuri had agreed reluctantly. (Turns out his Russian is perfect, if slightly accented with softer Japanese vowels, and, rarely, oddly pitched English sounding consonants)).

Other- Yuri is facing the middle of the rink, speaking loudly, because everyone else had left for lunch, when Viktor walks through the door. Yuri immediately switches to English, flicking his eyes behind other-Yuri’s head, but he doesn’t seem to catch his meaning. Continuing his complaints, slouching over the boards, and only blinking, surprised when Yuri switches languages out of no where.

Viktor’s getting close though, and he’s definitely going to notice, and as much as Yuri thinks finally, he doesn’t want Katsudon to be hurt, so he pokes him in the stomach and hisses.

“Yuu-chan!” At the same time that Viktor says “Yuratchka!”

The other-Yuri nearly falls over in his hurry to turn around, skates slipping out beneath him, barely grabbing the boards in time to keep himself up right.

“Vitya! What-” he catches himself, pauses, reassess, tries again. Yuri’s pretty sure it’s too late now though.

“Viktor what are you doing here?” It’s English this time, but Yuri can see the moment Viktor gets it. It’s the same moment that other-Yuri lets all pretences drop and thunks his head down on the boards.

“You’ve been learning Russian!” Or maybe not.

“What? Viktor, no.”

“Yes yes, I just heard you! You don’t need to hide it anymore. Was it supposed to be a surprise? I could have helped!”

Yuri can’t help the look he throws the Katsudon because really could Viktor be any dumber right then? He finds that Yuri’s already looking at him, but his gaze drifts back too Viktor a moment later.

Yuri’s tempted to leave, to skate away, but this is also horribly fascinating, so instead he sidles up to the boards and pulls himself up. Other-Yuri shoots him a half disapproving look, but he doesn’t say anything, Yakov isn’t here to get mad right then.

“Viktor, I didn’t need your help.” He says it slowly, like he’s hoping Viktor will get it without him having to say anything outright.

Viktor just frowns, one hand fluttering to his chest. “Oh.”

Other-Yuri sighs. Tries a different tactic. Yuri’s half way to blurting ‘he’s been speaking Russian as long as I have!’ but refrains. He’s just here to watch.

“Viktor… you know I speak French right?” Viktor nods, looks at Yuri like he thinks he’s trying to change the topic of conversation. “So.. You know you don’t have to translate anything when Chris calls right?” Viktor just blinks, like this is a surprise, and Yuri knows he’s not dumb. He really isn’t, he can calculate the exact angle and velocity needed to land a jump in his head, but sometimes he wonders how he gets through the day because he really just never bothers to think.

“And… You know I studied Languages in college?” Viktor nods, and Yuri thinks that maybe he’s starting to see a dawning of understanding in his eyes.

“So… Ya. I ah, honestly thought you knew? I guess? And when I figured out you didn’t I just- well, it’d been so long. I didn’t know how-”

“How long have you been able to speak it?” Viktor doesn’t look mad. Mostly curious.

“Oh, well. Ah… Properly? Only since my second year of University? But, my comprehensions been pretty decent since I was… 15 or 16 maybe? I started learning when I was 13.” Yuri looks proud, but also a little embarrassed to admit that.

Suddenly Viktor’s bright red and “oh my god you understand me.” This doesn’t make any sense to Yuri, but the other-Yuri goes a little pink and coughs, throwing a glance Yuri’s way before looking back at Viktor apologetically.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to, at first. And I mean, there were some things… Not exactly every day vocabulary you know?”

The doors bang open then, and Yakov storms in, followed by Mila. Yuri can just see the trickle of other skaters and coaches on the other side.

“Viktor! What are you doing here? It’s your day off. You’re distracting Yuri! Don’t think I don’t see you on those boards Yura! Suicides! And then I want to see jumps from both of you, Yuris!”

Viktor opens his mouth, looks at other-Yuri, who’s already skating backwards, and turns impossibly redder. “He didn’t ask me to translate.” He says, “He hasn’t, does everyone know?” Other-Yuri looks guiltier in contrast.

“I’m really sorry Vitya. Vicchan. I am I promise.” Viktor shakes head, beckons him closer, presses a kiss to his lips, still looking a little dazed, but then he turns to Yuri and… Oh no, what does he have on him that he’s going to use to turn the situation around? Yuri knows that look.

“So. You’re calling him Yuu-chan now?”

Yuri’s going to kill him. He doesn’t care if Katsudon will be sad.

[fsouth-park-is-imaginative]

The angels are watching

Yandere Kenny chapter 1.

The cafeteria was loud. The people around us didn’t see her. They didn’t care, they went on with their day, their simple routine, their lives unchanged. It was as if my mother had died and I was faced with the realization that the world around me did not stop.

The world around us will stop for nothing as simple as death or murder or love. The world will not end with something as simple as the whims of one person. One person, that holds myself in their hands. The people surrounding us did not see the angel at the far table, face buried between the pages of a book.

Her eyes dance lovingly run over the pages of whatever she decided to read today. It was different each day, she read quickly and got over the stories. I don’t know if they held meaning to her, as they hold meaning to others. I don’t know if these books are ones she’ll remember forever or toss aside in favor of a new story. It’s her one night stand with a book, fingers caressing the pages as she turns the paper, face gazing intensely, extreme focus on something other than her. Her face is obscured between the pages of books like I want my face buried between her thighs. I want to be her one night stand, I want to wake up and have coffee with her while she learns me as keenly as if I had words printed on my skin of every thought I have ever had. Maybe I’ll tell her that I’ve put more thought into her than I have any book that has ever been published. Maybe she’ll run her hands over me as if I’m made of paper and cannot harm her. Maybe she’ll let me fuck her and marry her. And we can live happy ever after with our half intelligent children amid the woods in solitude.

It took her all of five seconds to put her book down when I sat across from her.

“So, I guess it’s not a page turner?” I asked sheepishly, head tilting briefly towards the book on the table. Her paper coffee cup seemed so cute next to it, like something out of a cheesy instagram post. I hated it.

“What makes you say that?” She quirks and eyebrow. Her whole face seemed larger than life, larger than me, larger than anything I could possibly understand.

“You aren’t reading it now.”

“No, but that’s not indicative of the actual novel. If anything, it means I find it odd that a complete stranger is intruding on my reading time.” She said it fast. Damn, see? Smart. I laugh, trying to put her at ease.

“Yeah, that makes sense. I just want you to know that I think you are absolutely stunning.” I say to her. She does a double take

“What?” Both eyebrows raised, she looks reminiscent of a headshot, the way models do.

“Yeah. Too bad I can hardly see you with that book in front of your face all the time.” I joke.

“What, this?” She picks up her book to show me the cover. It sounds like a porn genre.

“Yeah. What’s that, Lo-lee-tah?” I ask, sounding out the foreign word. She looks down and pushes a lock of hair behind her ear.

“Yes, um. It’s a classic.” She says finally. I can barely hear her, with her voice aimed down at the floor like that.

“A classic? What’s so classic about it?”

“Well, classics are books that are popular with many people and have stayed in popularity for many years.” She answers. How unsatisfying. It must be porn, she keeps dodging the question.

“I know what classics are. What’s Lolita about?” I try to be civil.

“It’s a love story.” She says simply.

“Ah. I wouldn’t have pegged you for a hopeless romantic,” I smile “Hey, this is a coffee shop meet cute isn’t it?” I’m flirting. She blushes slightly. Not many people blush when I flirt with them.

“Hopefully, uh, you don’t have me pegged for anything yet. You don’t know anything about me.” She’s not wrong. I don’t know anything about her. But I know that she reads and she likes coffee. I see her every other day, she picks up books like a player picks up girls. She wears modest black clothes, either because of self esteem issues or maybe because she’s part of a subculture. She reeks of danger with her five-foot-tall-in-socks frame and scowly eyes. Her deep set eyes are rimmed with lack of sleep that she wears like a Tammy Faye does eyeliner. It’s nice, and I like the way they discriminate.

“Hello?” She asks. I snap out of my obsessive reverie.

“Oh, hey, yeah sorry. Kinda wandered away there for a moment. Anyway, uh, so Lolita, huh? That’s the one about the English teacher, right?” She blinked.

“Yes. It’s truly beautiful, it just… it’s so, so disturbing. Its gimmick is that the reader is supposed to sympathise with the main character, whos a pedophile. But it’s a horror novel, you know? But regardless of original intent, it seems so creepy to me!” She stopped. “Sorry, uh, I probably sound really stupid to you.”

“No, no. Not at all. Tell me more, why is it so creepy to you? You say its the gimmick, shouldn’t this make you less creeped out?”

“Well… yeah, I guess so. But it’s more than that its… I can’t help but feel like the people that are supposed to enjoy the novel are part of the problem. I don’t know if it’s okay to enjoy something that’s awful just because it isn’t reality. I don’t know if it’s okay to idolize awful characters just because you’re aware that they’re flawed. After a while, their flaws become easier to apologize for, the forbidden fruit becomes less forbidden in your mind because only you have been forcing yourself away from it.” She isn’t looking at me now. I want her to look at me.

“But, maybe it’s just a story.” I reply.

“Yeah, but… it can’t be just a story. It’s got to mean something bigger to you, otherwise they aren’t stories. They’re words on a page. Writing has to speak to a deeper part of the soul…”

“I think… that either you’re a hidden pedophile, or that rant wasn’t about the book.” I say with a smile I hope is reassuring. “But yeah, I get the idea about stories.” Did I just make it awkward?

“Yeah, well um, whoops.” She says softly. “I’ve been angry lately, at certain things.”

“I can tell.” I try to match her soft tone. She looks up and I trap her in my gaze, sleep smudged eyes meeting intense dark blue. Her pupils dance around as much as they can without tugging her head along with it.

“I can leave, if you want. I was just about to go anyway.” Wrong. Her book isn’t even half finished yet.

“No, no. How can you leave without giving me your name?” I ask, tilting my head to mimic her confusion.

“It’s, uh… Alice.” She says. Oh, Alice. She who fell down a rabbit hole and hit her head on all the turns. I hold out my hand.

“Kenny. Kenny McCormick.” She takes my calloused hand with hers of flesh and soft bone. Her skin is peeling a bit near the crook of the thumb. I don’t care about it. She laughs a bit.

“That’s a douche name.” She shakes my hand with a firm grip. I use my other hand to run my fingers through my hair, a move that makes all girls hot for me. I know because that’s what makes me hot for the rest of the guys.

“Yeah, I know.” I let out a dramatic sigh, using my other, now free hand to mime a fist shake of despair. I shake the despair fist and grin. “It’s like my cousin, her name is Violet Divine. Total stripper name if I’ve ever heard one.” White trash begets douches and strippers.

“No, violet Divine? That’s pretty. I wish my name was pretty like that.” Alice says. I shake my head.

“Nah, your name is so pretty it shows on your face every time you say it. Your sheer beauty could not be contained in one form, so it leaked out into your name!” I joke with her. Her breast swells. “Alice.” I say, leaning back. I maintain eye contact, so she knows I meant it.

“I… I’m sorry fro calling your name a douche name. Because either you’re very good at smoothtalking people, or you’re a nice person. Maybe both though, you aren’t about to talk about your love for dead philosophers now, are you?”

“No, I’m not a soft boy. I’m too tough for that! Why, just the other day I listened to an Alice In Chains song.” She giggles.

“No, I guess not. Philosophy’s kind of my thing, anyway. If you were super into it, we might have problems along the road here.”

“Oh?” I joke, “Are you insinuating you want me on the road?” She looks away slightly.

“Maybe… unless you don’t want to of course. But it’s not often a cute boy knows about the book I’m reading. I’d like to make the best of it.” She says. I grin ear to ear. A real grin, not the lecherous kind I save for porno mags and back alley ladies of the night dressed in fishnet stockings and despair.

“I’ll give you my number, may I?” I gestures to her napkin. She hands me the one on the bottom, the one without coffee stains and lip prints on it. I take out my coat pen and write my cell phone number on it. I hand it back to her and she smiles again, reading it over in her mind. She mouths the numbers as she reads, it’s cute.

“Okay, well, thanks. I’d really appreciate it if you wouldn’t turn out to be a serial killer or something.” She’s joking, but I don’t care. She has my number, and I’ve done enough today to get her in my grasp.

“Nope. I mean, I’ve got a ton of blood in my house, but that’s just my roommate the serial killer. That won’t be a problem will it? I’ll let her know you’re off limits.” I hope that’s smooth, because to me that was pretty smooth. If it weren’t totally creepy, I’d be winking right now.

“Yeah.” She smiles. I’ve made her smile enough to sleep happy tonight.

“Yeah.” I smile. And with that, I get up to leave, pushing in my chair and giving her a salute sign with my hands.

She looks a bit sad as I walk away.

[buncompass]

I guess I’m gonna blog about it now. This turned way longer than I thought it was going to, so it’s going under a read more.

A few months ago I was filling my time by researching depression. My depression is chronic, and though it fluctuates in intensity, it’s always there. I was debating getting back into therapy or finding alternative options when I stumbled upon an article about how women with undiagnosed autism are more likely to have chronic or persistent depression. I read through it and all of a sudden something clicked.

As a preschooler I was incredibly intelligent. I could read, write, and speak well. I had an endearing (that became annoying) quirk of mouthing my sentences again after I’d spoken them. Despite being friendly, I didn’t like being touched. I hated hugs and cuddles unless I initiated them. I was very aware of my personal space and didn’t like it when people got too close to me. I liked being by myself, and only had one friend until around third grade. My isolationist tendencies were favorable because they made me the “good one,” and I was never alone in a house with two brothers and my mom’s daycare. My parents divorced when I was 7, right after my favorite cousin had died. My family put me in therapy and patted themselves on the back for being proactive while also assuming that any problems I had would be addressed.

As I grew up, I learned that people like eye contact, so I trained myself to look at the point in between their eyes to give the appearance of it without actually looking into their eyes. At school, I was the queen of over-sharing. I was obsessed with my family’s heritage and talked endlessly about being half Indonesian. Without ever having to study, I aced every class except for math. I hated math because I couldn’t do it automatically. I got irrationally stressed over it, and would panic and forget everything I learned. I counted with my fingers, and if someone made fun of me for it, found ways to be discreet. I excelled in English, and fell in love with characters who didn’t tease and stories that made sense.

I had a vivid imagination and used toys to practice talking to people, and notoriously carried some sort of security item around with me until I was much older. I saw Toy Story and then Chuckie not too long after, which gave me a pervasive feeling that my toys were alive and could communicate and could also get upset with me. I worried endlessly about accidentally hurting my toys’ feelings and never gave them away, amassing an insane amount of stuffies on my bed and in a hammock on my wall. It annoyed my mother, which scared me. She was an alcoholic with a lot of feelings, and I felt every person’s emotions as deeply as my own. It overwhelmed me.

Middle school was a tricky transitional time. Puberty was rough. My stepmom got me an American Girl book called “The Care and Keeping of You” which I treated like my how-to guide for both puberty and socialization. There were sections on how to talk to friends and sections on how to brush your hair; it was a goldmine of tips for me. I referenced it every day. I memorized it as the Way To Do Things, and when my stepmom teased me about it, I found ways to adapt so it wasn’t so obvious.

I had spent my life up until that point wearing clothes that were comfortable. People started mocking me for wearing sports bras and men’s clothing. I hated the feeling of denim, the tightness of women’s clothing, and the overall feeling of exposure regular bras gave me. When I started wearing women’s clothing, I made sure to have at least one day a week where I wore baggy clothes, but made sure that they looked good; baggy jeans or sweatpants with tight t-shirts, tank tops layered under zip-ups, and various other combinations. I learned that my appearance mattered more than my comfort, and I resented it. My parents accused me of being dramatic, but the feeling of a bra strap digging into my shoulder was not one I could ignore; I was aware of my clothes at all times, and I hated it.

My friends started expressing interest in sex and I was always uncomfortable during those conversations; I never had sexual thoughts. While my friends fantasized about their crushes being their ‘first time’, I fantasized about my crush and I going on heists and adventures. I went along with what others wanted from me, and had a few not okay experiences because of it. When everyone started flirting by hugging and tickling, I was always a target. My friends would hug me and laugh when I stimmed and pushed them away, imitating the way I moved and calling me “twitch”. I started cracking my knuckles or wiggling my toes in my shoes instead of flapping my hands. I trained myself to hug, even though I hated it.

People knew that I misunderstood blunt statements. Sarcasm had already been a defense mechanism at that point for me; if I said something stupid people thought I was joking and it helped me learn. Boys at school would ask me out and then laugh at my confusion. If they weren’t mocking me through fake flirting, they made do with the fact that bluntness threw me off. They’d see me in my comfy boy clothes and asked me how much I could bench or challenge me to races. If I agreed to their challenges, they’d laugh the entire time and I wouldn’t understand why until later. At home, it wasn’t much better. My stepmom would buy my birthday present in front of me, tell me it was for my cousin, and then laugh when I would open it and be surprised. She’d tell people how naive and gullible I was. 

High school made things easier for me. I had solid friends at that point, though I was caught between two cliques, which made the popular kids unsure of me. I coasted through the social side by being nice and smart. I learned to hide parts of my personality away depending on which group I was with, and learned to read body language to avoid being seen as weird. I repressed my need to stim, though I cracked my knuckles whenever I got anxious and played with my jewelry often. At that point, people understood that liking to read wasn’t bad, so anytime I got overwhelmed in public I’d pull out a book and people left me alone. My isolationist tendencies came back, but being a teenage girl gave me some leeway in regards to hiding in my room and being emotional over nothing. I found ways to balance things that set off my sensory overload; I only read under lamps and never used overhead lights; I wore comfortable clothing that didn’t set off any tactile issues; I learned what volume setting I could handle on various TVs and computers. I began using self-deprecating humor to beat people to the punch, and was known for my jokes as a result. I was already dealing with depression, so I feigned happiness every day to make sure that no one would ever find out about all the things that I kept hidden and locked away.

I am autistic. As a child my traits were favorable compared to my rambunctious peers, so no one questioned me. When I started going through the more difficult parts of life, my family and therapists attributed my feelings and actions to the divorce, my cousin’s death, and my mother’s addictions. By the time I got to high school I had developed coping mechanisms based off of the treatment I received from my classmates and family that kept me under the radar. I’ve always obsessed over my special interests, I’ve always been on the edge of socially acceptable, I’ve always found ways to deflect and mask.

I lived for 25 years without understanding a piece of who I am. I read that post a few months ago and the world fell into place. I took questionnaires and read studies and got lost in finding myself. I researched how doctors formally diagnose and found out that I have Asperger’s, which is now referred to as Autism Spectrum Disorder. It doesn’t change anything, but it helps me understand. I am autistic, and that’s okay.

[emosnakeboy]

Do all the ice cream questions!

oh sweet jesus ok yeah i suppose thats one way to cute boredom thanks 

chocolate: when was your first kiss? June 13th of 2016, huge ass regrets

french vanilla: how old are you? not old enough to make a difference, in the eyes of the government (but that’s just what i let them think)

cotton candy: three places you want to travel to? hmmm Cairo, Egypt; London, England; Las Vegas, Nevada, USA

strawberry: a language you wish you could speak? probably german or finnish so i can go to college in one of those countries for free, either that or french or latin so i can pass my classes

coffee: favorite cosmetics brands? i dont use makeup

mint chocolate chip: indoors or outdoors? probably indoors, less sunburn more AC and wifi

cookie dough: do you play any instruments? yes several, i play baritone, clarinet, ukulele (badly), and probably some others that i should be working on. lately i’ve been inspired to learn how to play the trombone.

rocky road: favorite songs at the moment? ohhh boy... Nicotine by Panic! At The Disco, The Sharpest Lives by My Chemical Romance, The Last of The Real Ones by Fall Out Boy, If These Sheets Were The States by All Time Low, and Ground Control by All Time Low (i hecking love atl fight me) (there are so many more songs i could say)

butter pecan: favorite songs for life? oh shit those above, plus both Boy Division and The Light Behind Your Eyes by My Chemical Romance

cheesecake: what’s your zodiac sign? capricorn

toasted coconut: the beach or the pool? pool, sorry, i don’t really like sand. i like being able to sit underwater and see through my goggles and i just cant do that at the beach

chocolate chip: what’s your most popular post? lemme check... the one that wasn’t even mine it’s about how the sanders sides reacted in virgil’s room portraying their fears and shit, my friend sent it via a group chat and i loved it so i posted it and now everyone else loves it

bubblegum: books or movies? can’t pick i love both reading and watching movies for different reasons

pistachio: manga or anime? anime, easier to focus on and takes less time to get through

salted caramel: favorite movies? Love, Simon; Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, i can’t remember any others atm

birthday cake: favorite books? The Mortal Instruments series by Cassandra Claire, The Maze Runner series by James Dashner, The Harry Potter books by J.K. Rowling (particularly the Prisoner of Azkaban), Secrets For The Mad by Dodie Clark

moose tracks: favorites for manga? Fairy Tail Zero and Death Note

orange sherbet: favorites for anime? Yuuri! On Ice and Death Note, but Hetalia is fuckin funny and Fairy Tail is amazing

peanut butter: favorite acedemic subject? honestly i really don’t have a favorite not because i hate them all but because i love them all. my last history and english teachers made the classes fun so i’ve really been loving those two, and science and math are just practical and fascinating and i can’t not love them. i’m a nerd, what else do you want from me?

black raspberry: do you have any pets? 4 cats 3 dogs and a shitload of guppy fish, not to mention my plants

mango: when and why did you start your blog? i think in like March or April of 2018 because it was about time, i wanted to follow fandom shit but then i realized people like my art and moodboards so that’s kinda become what i do now (requests still open btw)

mocha: ideal weather conditions? London weather. Not too hot, not too cold, not too sunny. i don’t like sunburn. plus the rain is relaxing, and thunderstorms are awesome.

black cherry: four words that describe you? what the fuck evenjk i know people want positive.. respectable, intelligent, talented, pretty

NOTE: it’s not being vain to say that ^^ i don’t dwell on them more than i have to, and honestly since i usually feel like a piece of rat shit it’s very good that im able to describe myself as anything other than that. 

neapolitan: things that stress you out? too much clutter when i’m working, assholes interrupting class, my friends hiding things from me, my anxiety and depression constantly telling me to yeet myself off the nearest cliff

raspberry truffle: favorite kind of music? pop-rock, pop-punk, rock, sometimes indie shit.. mostly alternative/pop

chocolate marshmellow: favorite brands of candy? TWIZZLERS and i particuarly love hershey stuff, and starburst but i forget who starburst is by

toffee: a card game that you’re good at? solitaire... but i do like Texas Hold ‘Em

lemon custard: do you eat breakfast? most days yeah

peach: how do you relax? drawing, writing, reading, listen to music, sometimes just lie down and do nothing, hug my friends if i can

praline: a popular book you haven’t read yet? oh god i read a lot.. Wings of Fire series, i’ve heard a lot about it and i really wanna read it

superman: do you like sweaters? absolutely i do, however not during the summer when it’s this hot

cherry: do you drink tea or coffee? both but not very frequently

dulce de leche: an instrument you wish you could play? ukulele, baritone, guitar, trombone

blackberry: have you ever laughed so hard you cried? yes several times at stuff that’s ridiculously stupid

ginger: a new feature you wish tumblr would have? do they let me block certain tags and i just haven’t figured out how yet? idk im still pretty new to this site

blueberry lemon: favorite blogs? oh god there’s a lot... im gonna leave it at three for now, and those would be mostly my art idols @elentori-art @the-pastel-peach and @voidsides but there are so many more i wish i could put aiehgsbngu

almond: favorite mean girls quote? i’ve never seen mean girls idk if any of the possible quotes im thinking of are even from mean girls and im not gonna embarrass myself by saying them

butterscotch: what color are your nails right now? unpainted, but last they were black with glitter over the top

cinnamon: have you ever been confessed to? yes a few times

blue moon: have you ever had a crush on someone? yeap and 9/10 times it sucks but then there’s the 1 time where everything goes right and it makes every point in your life up until then worth it

cappuccino crunch: do you ever take naps? not really

mint: the most embarrassing thing you’ve done? think i was straight until 2016 and humiliate myself by chasing these guys but never truly feeling like i liked them

brownie batter: do you like sushi? never had it but i don’t think so, im not a big fish person

key lime: where do you want to be right now? probably about 30 minutes away from where i am in my s.o.’s arms on their couch watching soul eater or avatar: the last airbender with them

red velvet: do you wear prescription glasses? yep im blind as fuck

green tea: favorite flavors of ice cream? sea salt caramel, banana peanut butter, pistachio almond, white house/cherry vanilla

ok wow that took a while.. thank u though that cured my boredom and now i have to do stuff so sbfguisng adios y gracias