Tumgik
#It just takes me a little longer to get social cues sometimes
autisticlancemcclain · 6 months
Text
PSA
hello everyone!! a bit of a serious post today.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
i don't want to sound whiney. but i have noticed a bit of a tone in a couple of my asks lately?? very few of them, let me assure, but a couple people seem to be frustrated at the speed/rate at which i answer asks. so i wanted to help clear the air.
REASONS I HAVE NOT YET ANSWERED YOUR ASK (THAT I AM VERY GRATEFUL TO HAVE):
i am in the process of answering it
sometimes i get asks for certain fics, to either write or to help find. and these things take time! sometimes i get very lucky and fics hit me as soon as i see them, but more often it takes me days or weeks! and fic searches take me even longer!
2. i have other ideas
you guys have a lot of great headcanons and fic premises! i do too. i've been in this fandom since june of 2016, there's a very VERY long list of things i want to write. things get added to the roster, i promise.
3. i am busy
i am in school full time and working part time and volunteering and preparing for teacher's college admissions. writing is my favourite thing to do every day and while i do prioritise it i cannot have it as my first priority. often, this blog gets pushed back when i get busy, as much as i wish that wasn't the case.
4. i am overwhelmed
sometimes the asks pile up. i try to answer comments as they come but for some reason asks work a little bit differently in my brain?? idk. it can be harder for me to force myself to start answering them, even though i love receiving them and when i'm in the mood i could answer fifty at once.
and very, very rarely:
5. i simply do not vibe with it
it happens occasionally. i have a very niche corner of headcanons and stuff i enjoy writing, so it's bound that every once in a while someone sends me an ask with their ideas that just aren't what i personally would read/write. doesn't mean the idea is bad or that i don't enjoy getting excited about your ideas with you, it's just not always going to be something i have the train of thought to write :)
i hope that's not disappointing! i know there are a couple asks that have been sitting in my inbox for over a YEAR. i am getting to them, i promise. one such ask has even inspired a novel-length fic that i'm still working on. finally, i want to remind you guys that i am autistic, and as much as i'm fully capable of handling myself online and everywhere else, i do struggle to read and understand tone and social cues and as such can often miss offense where it is intended or find it where it is not. i can't even tell you if the two examples i included are actually objectively rude/demanding, i can only tell you that they felt that way. there is no need to censor yourself or be anxious to shoot me a message, just maybe remember that i'm doing this for fun? and it frustrates me when it's treated as if it's a job. if you're worried about coming off as demanding, let me know and i'll post some examples of requests that i don't find demanding at all, only excited (which is, and i can't stress this enough, the vast majority of every message i see). thank you guys and ily <333
59 notes · View notes
sunnywalnut · 10 days
Text
I miss when autistic rep was on accident. I feel like every time a neurotypical/allistic person tries to write somebody with autism on purpose, it just comes off as "he's a total jerk, but he's REALLY GOOD at what he does" instead of "this guy's facial expression doesn't change very much, but I promise you he's absolutely happy to help. Also talk to him about birds. He fucking loves birds."
And I don't mean "he loves birds" as in "this guy wears bird shirts 24/7 and corrects you if you accidentally call a pigeon a dove." No. I mean "he loves birds" as in "he's able to name the sound of the bird just by it's song and point to it and it's just sitting on the rooftop next to you" and if you ask questions he gets this little smile to his face and answers them all and even tells you about some drama about two researchers who were unsure of they could call two birds different species since they were so similar and then gives you the answer of they can, because their beaks are different and that means their diet is different or whatever.
Not every autistic dude in media has to be "UwU save me from the world and take care of me bc I'm just a smol beannn✨"
Sometimes they're just Chad from maintenance who seems to love his job a bit more than he should, but it's all good bc everything that's fixed works even better than it was before it was broken. He's not creepy or anything. But he WILL call you over if he sees you walk past in order to show off his latest repair and talk to you about what he did. Everyone loves Chad. They're happy that he's as dedicated to his job as he is. Plus it makes the office a lot more bearable to have him around because he always seems to wear this gigantic grin and talk with his hands.
You're absolutely able to have "cute" autistic characters. I have cute autistic characters.
I have a little elf girl that counts each individual strand of her hair when she's nervous and climbs trees. She loves baking, so much so that she will make everything gluten free, kosher, dairy free, vegan, whatever you need in order to make sure you're included. As soon as she steps into a garden, she's completely covered in dirt. And yes, she's extremely friendly and doesn't understand social cues. And sure. She has her boyfriend take care of things for her, like keeping her safe from creeps when she's in public, and shutting down scammers before she can pay them, but it's not because she's dumb. It's because he elected himself into that space. And he knows full well that if she decides to scurry off to whatever wonderful thing that has caught her eye, that she'll wander back to him when she's ready. She knows how to defend herself. And he trusts her. And she does things for him as well. Which is something I don't see in autistic/allistic relationships in media at all.
Like do y'all really think our partners are just our glorified babysitters???
We're not just there to sit still and look pretty.
We're there to be your emotional rock. We tend to have high empathy. We can listen to your problems and validate your emotions. And sure, we might give you some advice that seems a bit wonky at best, but anyone can do that. Not just autistic people.
Sometimes we take over financial decisions, for one reason or another. I had a partner that would always come to me for financial advice despite living on their own and having more than enough money to do what they wanted with, but they knew that I could budget better. I'm good at math. And no, not a "math wiz" all A's kind of good. But a "I can do big number addition/subtraction and sometimes multiplication within seconds in my head" which was also really helpful in my culinary class when my teacher would put me in charge of making sure we were on target with how many servings of food we had. Not every autistic person has to be leagues above the rest academic to be autistic. My allistic brother had straight A's for YEARS. Much longer than I did. I had A's and B's.
You can come to us if you need a hug. Or to cuddle. Or to body double. Or just to hang out. Some autistic people like touch. We crave it. I can guarantee you that if we were friends and you climbed up on the couch next to me and laid your head in my lap, I would let you. No questions asked. I'd even pet your hair. And I'd ask you about your day. I can't count how many times high fives have turned to hand holding with my friends because they needed a loving talking to about how great they are. Or a back rub when they're crying. Not all of us are going to stand there, staring down at you while you're curled up on the floor and be like "STATISTICALLY SPEAKING-" yeah no. And the people who DO that likely are trying to relay information that they know that they think will help you feel better. We're odd, but we're not heartless. Let me get down on your level. Sit with you. And then I'll talk to you about how tears are actually really healthy and it's good that you're able to cry. And also I'm proud of you and let's get you some water, okay?
We can take care of you too!!
I give all my friends hair care advice bc I've spent too much time watching hair stylist videos. I tell them to make sure they lotion after every shower when they complain about dry skin or body acne. I tell them to drink water after they cry. Or wash their face. Or alternate ways they can get around invisible barriers and still get what they need done. You know how many times I've had to sit down problem solve with my loved ones for over an HOUR bc their ADHD decided not to let them brush their teeth or take a shower? I have a whole ARSENAL of advice to give you. And yeah. If you're close enough where I can head over to your place, I WILL do your dishes(bc somehow they're less gross than mine). I WILL wash your hair for you, or fold your clothes or clear the counters of trash. Not because I think you're lazy or nothing. But because I see something that needs to be done, and I do it. Because I love you, it's simple, and hey, I'm here anyways, right?
Like shit. Every night I have a sleepover with my best friend, I do the dishes that were in her sink before I even came over while she starts on dinner. Because I love her. And that's my way of paying her back for picking me up. I clear all our trash, and the scraps of tea bags that she missed in the mornings. Because I love her. And it's simple enough I can do it myself. I chop the garlic as we cook together because we're working as a team. And yeah. After it's all over. We sit on the couch like a bunch of lazy dogs and watch TV and chat and do whatever. And sometimes. We don't do anything but just enjoy each other's company. Because as adults, we don't get a lot of time to just relax.
We all have our own strengths and weaknesses. And sure. Being friends with an autistic person isn't always sunshine and rainbows. Sometimes our behaviors or our tenancies can be stressful. Like sensory meltdowns, or our bluntness(which is honestly usually just us saying exactly what is true without sugar coating it. Like if you said the sky was purple I'd be like "nah it's blue rn" and people find that blunt and rude. But to me, that's just a fact. I'm not saying you're dumb. I'm just saying it's blue right now.) or sometimes, even when we get super hyper about our interests. I would know. I'm autistic myself. And I irritate myself.
But it seems like in media, the irritation is all people can see. Even in "supportive" families that I see in shows and such, everyone's always stressed all the time.
You're telling me ONE LITTLE CHILD is tearing this entire family apart? (*COUGH COUGH Young Sheldon COUGH*) Not only is that stupid, that's just inaccurate.
If you wanna be accurate, maybe don't have every autistic person you write be a "high functioning" male in a doctor's coat who's transphobic as fuck and his excuse being he's autistic.
If you know the bitch is outwardly transphobic, don't fucking put him in the room with trans people.
And also?
Autistic people are allowed to learn the difference between sex and gender. We're ALLOWED to learn about queer identities. And we're ALLOWED to be queer ourselves without being labeled as idiots who don't know any better.
I've YET to see a show about an outwardly queer autistic girl who is able to make awesome friends and overcome her challenges WITHOUT succumbing to being an asshole on purpose.
Except for The Owl House. And Luz isn't even canonically autistic. It's just speculated.
THAT is good autistic representation.
Not whatever the fuck "The Good Doctor" is supposed to be.
My Personal List Of Good Autism Rep Recs(non canon, sadly):
-Good Omens(not explicitly canon, but multiple characters behave in a way that could be labeled as autistic. Plus Neil Geiman, the writer himself is autistic)
-The Owl House(again. Not explicitly canon. But great. The whole show is about accepting yourself as you are and is kinda along the lines of Gravity Falls. In fact, she was in a relationship with Alex Hirsh, creator of Gravity Falls. And also she's bisexual with a CANONICALLY BISEXUAL LEAD!! Also is lovely for mental health allegories too)
-Gravity Falls (the whole Pines family just REEKS autism to me. Noncannon.)
-How To Train Your Dragon(Hiccup is autistic as hell and you can't convince me otherwise. Non canon)
-Adventure Time (some of the humor is dated, but enjoyable. Also Princess Bubblegum. Need I say more?)
-We Bare Bears (slice of lifey. Sometimes childish. Sweet as hell though. Grizz feels very autistic to me, but that could also be because I enjoy how huggable and easily excitable he is. Everyone loves him. He's loud, he can absolutely be obnoxious, but he loves his bros and tries his best to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. He also does his best to fix any problems he makes. Which in my book, makes him a good guy. Some people also claim Ice Bear is autistic. But personally, I feel like he just doesn't talk much. What do you guys think?)
21 notes · View notes
ltbarnes · 1 year
Text
Anachronism - Part II
Or the placing of persons, events, objects, or customs in times to which they do not belong
Tumblr media
Summary: Sprained ankles, snowstorms, blood-thirsty wolves and feral super soldiers. What was supposed to be a peaceful walk in the woods surrounding the cabin you're staying in with your best friend Steve quickly turns devastating, forcing your path to cross with the mysterious and burly man who can't seem to grasp social cues and the concept of privacy. His past is a puzzle that can't seem to be solved and your feelings for the sweet and giant man quickly develop from friendly gratitude to something neither of you can't quite grasp.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader, Steve Rogers x fem!reader
Word count: 5.8k
Warnings: a little bit of nudity and some sinful thoughts, bears!!, manhandling, Steve panicking and Bucky being the sweetest
A/N: I made it!! Never thought I would be able to finish part 2 in time but it’s done!! The love on the first part has been amazing and please give me any and all thoughts on this part <3 I love talking with you!
Series Masterlist
Main Masterlist
•  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  • 
You had been gone for six hours by the time a barely functional Steve ventured out to search for you a second time.
15 minutes. That's how long you said you would be out, and Steve started glancing out of the window for you already after 13 to see if you were back.
And he tried to go out and search just half an hour after you left, but even for a super soldier a harsh snowstorm like this one is impossible to navigate in. His phone service was not working and contacting the compound was futile—they can't do anything as long as the weather is this bad.
He's fucking panicking. You're probably out here freezing to death if you already haven't. Leaving you to die like that is no option. For twenty hazy minutes Steve gathered anything that might be needed if he finds you half-alive in some ditch—warm water bottle, blanket, food, tracking device if Sam or Nat or anyone in the team feels like helping him some time.
Steve knew he shouldn't have let you go. He felt it this morning when he watched you walk out of the door with those ridiculously large mittens and the puffer jacket that could soften a fall from fifty feet high. But god, he can't say no to you even though he persisted for more than an hour in your argument. A flutter with those eyes of yours and he folds quicker than he can take another breath.
He's Captain America—a man who survived a world war, alien attacks, robots trying to take over the world and countless fights with the world's most notorious villains. He prides himself on having integrity equally strong as his vibranium shield and morals practically written in stone. Steve Rogers is an unmovable man and still he just throws away all logic and sense out of the window as long as you have a smile on your face.
His chest is heaving, out of breath. It doesn't happen a lot anymore now that his days of being an asthmatic, 90-pound sick man are long past him. You manage to make his goddamn body malfunction in a different way each time he meets you—today just happened to be the worst he's ever experienced. If you died like this while he sat inside looking over fucking sketches over the compound grounds he's not going to be able to live with himself much longer.
For so many years he's been able to keep you out of situations too dangerous for your own good. It's hard sometimes when you prance out in traffic without looking both ways or take shortcuts through alleyways on the way home from work in the middle of the night, but Steve's still been able to keep you safe. He has been there each time.
God, you fucking infuriate him. Sometimes he wants to throw you over his shoulder and lock you inside some closet where you can't get up to any trouble. Trying to negotiate your way out of being shot by a madman robber by offering him fucking cookies? Yeah, Steve was furious that day, but he adores you for it. Don't get him wrong—you're not some sunshine fairy girl like that teacher with glasses and colorful dresses in the sitcom you always watch, but still you offered a man with a gun to your head cookies. You barely even bake.
Honestly, Steve was annoyed by you for a whole two years before you slithered your way into his traumatized and lost heart. The 21st century is a labyrinth of parasocial relationships, too advanced technology and so much suffering existing along the endless progress that's been made since the 40's.
It all was just too much for him for a good while, and his range of emotions kind of just shut down. Work was all he had and the closest thing to a friend was Natasha, who he did not know at all at the time. Tony was a goddamn asshole and Fury was too vague and Steve was missing Bucky, Peggy and the Howlies so much that all woken time was either spent on grieving or fighting.
You were the first close friend he made in this century. One who he could spend entire nights talking to, and took him out on midnight pizza runs and showed him what the hell streaming was. A friend who showed him that things are better now in many ways.
But he knows now why Bucky was so goddamn irritated at him all the time—you aren't even throwing yourself into fights like he did, and still do, but instead manage to be so goddamn clueless and intelligent at the same time. And he doesn't want to find you stubbing your toe on the same treshold at least once a week as amusing as he does. Or that he looks forward to Monday meetings because he gets to walk past your little office, stacked with strange romance books you can read when Tony doesn't need help in the lab or Bruce has no samples to be incubated or whatever he does.
For a long time you were the only one he missed when he was gone on missions for weeks. Now the team is as much family as his real one ever was, and he loves them too, but you're still the first person that comes to mind when he drags himself half-alive and beaten to a pulp onto the quinjet after a gruesome fight.
Mostly he likes that you don't really need him. In reality you do so wonderfully fine by yourself, without anyone, and Steve loves your independence. He just seemingly likes worrying and fuzzing like a mother hen because he can. Because you let him.
You do stupid things sometimes and for those situations you really do need someone to either pull you away from the moving car heading towards you or scold you for being reckless, but you could live on a reclusive island entirely alone and wouldn't mind in the least. Maybe it's because Steve always wanted that quiet life—settling down in a house he built himself with a person he loves somewhere people won't bother him.
The snow is goddamn insatiable with working against him as he tries to find his way just a few feet away from the cabin. But he's been through worse and Steve would gladly cut off all his limbs and bathe in scolding lava to find you alive.
To hell with snowstorms and duties and work—he's going to find his best girl even if it makes a 100-year old super soldier hypothermic.
•  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  • 
Your bladder is about to fucking burst.
For what must have been half an hour you've been laying awake to the sound of Winter's breathing, contemplating wether to go outside and potentially wake him up or just die.
But he's holding onto you so tightly, squeezing you to his chest with his nose buried in the crook of your neck, that you contemplate just holding it until he wakes. You feel like a stuffed animal he can't fall asleep without, the way Winter has tangled himself up in your limbs.
It makes you realize that you haven't felt closeness from a human like this in years. Maybe ever. You've never seen yourself as touch-starved but receiving such affection without any conditions or terms triggered some epiphany inside of you—you want to be held.
But ultimately, despite how heartbreaking it is, you are not willing to lay your life and dignity down for his and your own comfort in this moment.
The first movements of your newly awoken body generate cracking sounds that are a little too loud to not be concerned about. Good morning.
Somehow, in a manner you did not know you possessed, you slide out from his hold down onto the cold wooden floor without waking him up. You would've guessed he was a light sleeper.
A soft, breathy whine escapes his lips. You have to silence yourself with the palm of your hand to not laugh. Also desperately hoping that it's the loss of you on top of him that makes him upset in his sleep and not just the sudden lack of warmth.
His hair has been matted and tangled during the night, stray strands swept over his face, and he still he looks so good. You sit there on the floor staring at him for a good minute before you try to crawl away, struggling into your thermal pants and socks with a few silent curses slipping from your mouth.
If you're honest, you thought your foot would be fine by now. You clearly remember thinking to yourself that it would be over in five minutes when you fell. It's been a day and it's still swollen and hurting like a bitch—crawling to the door is the only way, though undignified.
You kind of miss being carried around while trying to haul yourself up to a stand with the help of the doorway. And you're also thinking about how Tony would have this picture printed and framed if he had a camera in his hand right now.
Outside it's still snowing, and the moderate layer of white, shimmering crystals covering the ground has grown to being outrageous during the night. It reaches up to your knees as you shuffle out just a short distance from the porch.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why am I doing this? Goddamn shit, ow," you whisper to yourself while trying to go about this in a dignified way that won't permanently disable you. "Ah. So cold. So cold."
And you're so hungry and tired and also might cry soon if things don't get better. Have you always been this sensitive? It feels like you're not. Circumstancial changes to your personality, hopefully.
Three days ago you were playing chess against Bruce in his lab while waiting for an analysis to process—that was, up until then, the most aggravating and complicated quest you had ever taken upon yourself (mainly because you do not know how to play chess). Right now you're peeing half-naked with snow up to your knees and a sprained ankle outside of a stranger's house who is most likely some kind of supernatural man and also very handsome. Is it weird that you're attracted to him?
Despite the rugged lumberjack-Tarzan type sleeping twenty feet away, you have a hard time seeing the silver lining in your misery. You're stuck and probably proclaimed dead. If you were a more positive person this could be counted as adventure time and great storytelling-material in the future—autobiography material, really. New York Times Bestseller List if you write it good.
But you're scared. You don't really know where you are and Steve might be out there looking for you. Yes, he is a super soldier, but it's not safe wading through a snowstorm without proper gear and knowledge. Steve can get cold too, despite how much he denies the slight shivers you've seen him develop during freezing walks in the winter. God knows he might wander off in the wrong direction and give himself hypothermia. Also a panic attack because this has to give him flashbacks to his time in the ice, right? Nightmares about being frozen solid like a popsicle?
By the time your teeth has since long started chattering, and you struggle to get up the zipper of your pants with your stiff fingers, a rustle in the trees surrounding the grounds forces you out of your daytime overthinking. The goosebumps on your skin instantly escalate to tiny mountains as you look around frantically for whatever threat is about to devour you.
Black fur emerges from between the branches, accompanied by a bark-like sound bordering on a happy chirp. You have to steady yourself to not fall over from shock as a bear cub wades through the snow, fuzzing up the powdery flakes as its dark coating slowly turns white from the steady snowfall.
Tears are dangerously close to being shed as you crouch down with your mouth agape. That was the last drop. A bear cub? Seriously? Sorting your thoughts through the big, blinking 'that is the cutest thing I have ever witnessed' is absolutely hindered by the fact that the bear is the cutest thing you have ever witnessed.
"Hi, baby," you say through a chuckle, stretching your hand out despite knowing that the bear could very well kill you. Because bear cubs are still dangerous, right? No?
It must be quite a few months old, if not a year, but the urge to hug it overpowers the underlying carefulness telling you to step away. Why did you ever think you had useful survival skills? A walking teddy bear comes into your sight and you abandon any reason.
The bear is hesitant as it catches sight of your figure, but it seems like the curiosity is stronger for it too. Slowly, and a bit clumsy, the cub makes its way through the deep snow until the wet nose nearly touches your fingers.
"Oh, you're so cute," you whisper with a blinding smile breaking through the chattering. "Where's your mother, huh? Have you gotten lost?"
It feels like maybe the soul of a tame cat has possessed this little bear as it latches on to your leg, paws embracing you with its nose snuggling into the stiff fabric. A shocked laugh escapes your lips as you gaze down at your new favorite being, possibly triumphing both Steve and Winter. Maybe it's too soon to decide wether or not Winter gets a place in your favorites category, but this one certainly does.
A shriek sounds through the air as your balance, which was compromised to begin with, falters and sends you to the ground with an especially hard nudge from the bear. Newly fallen snow wells up into the air as you hit the cold and soft layer with a thud, giggling like a little school girl as the bear releases a happy chirp.
"You want to play?" you ask, reaching your arms out while completely forgetting to be freezing cold like you should be. You didn't really have time to put on a jacket on top of your Henley before.
The bear pushes up snow with its nose, sending flakes into your face as if it splashes water jokingly. You throw some back, earning a shake of its fur to rid itself of the white formations.
But the door to the cabin is thrown open harshly, smashed against the wall, before you have any more time to resume your playtime. Winter barges out with his large and threatening build so tense that you fear he might pull a muscle. His eyes flicker over the scene, searching for your figure until he finds you half-buried in the deep snow with a bear hovering over you.
The panic is instant—you see it clearly from where you're craning your neck to catch sight of the sudden commotion. He's not wearing any shoes, but he runs out into the snow without hesitation anyways.
A growl sounds from his chest, puffing himself up to appear more threatening. For the first time you see the power he possesses—the real underlying danger inside of the man who has been so sweet to you these past 24 hours. But you're still not afraid of him.
"Wint—"
You begin calling out his name, try to explain that the bear wants you no harm, but the attempt is futile. Winter is fast, and before you can even say the whole of his name he has dragged you up from the ground with one arm while the bear fearfully runs away.
His hold is too tight for you to get a word out as he hastily brings you inside again, smashing the door shut and setting you down on the floor. This time he's careful of your foot, letting you hover just a few inches above the ground before slowly easing you down as to not lay any unnecessary weight on your ankle.
Winter's hands instantly find your face, eyes roaming over your body with frantic desperation.
"You—no hurt? Okay? Good?" he asks, tilting your chin up while inspecting the small patch of exposed skin on your neck.
His breathing is heavy. And you can understand what it looked like—he must've thought you were being mauled to death. Even though the bear was far from full grown they could still be dangerous, you think.
"I'm okay." You can't help but smile, despite it being a small one. "The bear just wanted to play. It was a really kind bear."
Winter furrows his brows into a frown, letting his gaze wander up to your face. A few seconds pass of him inspecting your expression, as if he's assessing wether or not you're sincere, before he lets out sigh.
A small pout grows on his face, drawing a giggle from your lips. He's cute like this.
"You were gone...so scared. Then I heard scream and saw bear," he tells you while shaking his head, tilted down towards the floor.
The smile on your face eases out into a sigh, hand instantly finding his forearm with a soft touch. "I'm sorry, Winter. I didn't want to wake you up and I had to pee. The bear just came out from between the trees and came up to me."
"But—no hurt?" he asks you once more.
You shake your head. "No. I'm completely fine. Just a little cold."
Winter lets out a puff of air from his nose. "Always so cold. All the time," he says, taking a step back from you to drag a chair out in front of you, before turning towards the fireplace.
"I am not. It just happens to be freezing outside and this cabin does not have any heat," you protest while sitting yourself down.
You watch as he reaches for the chopped wood stacked upon each other right beside the fireplace, throwing in a few more to feed the fire.
It crackles loudly, hypnotizing you for a few seconds before you start to feel the wet fabric clinging onto your skin.
"Do you have any other clothes?" you ask, arms encompassing yourself. "This shirt is all wet and cold from the snow."
Without any hesitation, he plucks his wine-red shirt off his back to reveal a tight, black long sleeve underneath. His right arm reaches the shirt out to you, meeting your doe-eyed gaze.
On a continuous roll, Winter has shown you kindness upon kindness ever since you woke up. It's all too much and you don't really know how to repay him. He's taken care of you so well, protected you and fed you and kept you warm and now given you his clothes. He barely even knows you.
With slight hesitance, you turn to the side and cling onto the hem of your shirt. You have to remind yourself that Winter probably won't mind if he sees you half-naked. He's already seen the bottom half of you in just underwear without having any significant reaction, so it'll be fine if he sees you in a bra too.
The collar gets stuck for a few seconds, and you struggle to get your head free for a good while. Gracious as ever. When you're exposed to the world again, you instantly feel the intense gaze of Winter on you.
His stare is zeroed in on your chest, the dark blue lace covering your breasts leaving little to the imagination when it comes to your nipples. No, you did not expect a single soul to witness your underwear on this trip while packing. But you kind of like dressing up for yourself a little bit too.
Winter parts his pink lips, drawn closer without even blinking. You sit there, gazing up at him while forgetting to take a breath. It's okay—he's just curious about the anatomical differences rather than the sexual aspect of it. You think.
"Touch...please," Winter murmurs as he stares at your breasts nearly spilling out of your bra.
And you have to suppress the sudden giggle that wants to escape. Winter looks like a kid staring at a lollipop, like he will burst any second if he can't inspect your fucking boobs.
"Ugh, they—soft. Look soft. Pretty," he whispers.
With a giggle you nod, giving him the okay to touch. You shiver now even before, despite feeling rather calm about it.
He uses his right hand to reach out. Ever since you flinched away from him that first time he's been hesitant to use his metal one while touching you, even though you don't mind. You have to tell him that.
"Never seen before—so soft. Oh."
His genuine excitement over having his hands on you draws a chuckle from your lips until he squeezes a little too hard.
"Be gentle. It hurts when you use too much force, okay?" you tell him.
He nods in answer, focus not straying from your breasts even once. He's mesmerized—he's never felt anything this pliable and cuddly on a person. In Hydra he only met rough men, consisting of hard muscle and rough handling. The entirety of you is just so soft.
"Off. Want away."
A tug at the strap of your bra paired with a wide-eyed gaze and pupils covering the entirety of his eyes signals that he'd be much happier without the offending fabric covering you. But you're not sure. It feels like a step too far.
Your fingers clasp softly around his, pushing them away from you gently. "Not today."
"Why?" he asks you with an expression bordering on a pout.
"Because I'm not comfortable with that. Do you remember when I explained that word?"
Winter nods while lowering his head to watch  his left hand as it flexes open, leaving a whirring sound after him. He looks a little bit upset about it, but doesn't pressure you any further. The truth is that you're worried he might not know what it implicates—what it might lead to. Because you sure as hell have a hard time controlling your feelings right now, and from what you've seen of Winter he doesn't have a lot of boundaries or impulse-control himself.
You put on his shirt in the silence, even though he's still looking at you. The cold temperature has made your nose runny and the only sounds in the room are now your sniffles, the crackling fire and Winter's whirring arm.
"I, uh, have to find—eat," Winter says, bringing his fingers up to his mouth while parting his lips. A soft smile cracks through your solemn exterior, relaxing into your chair.
"Food?"
"Yes. Food."
He looks down at you, eyes raking up the entirety of your figure, before reaching for a large fur that he drapes over his shoulders. You almost think you hear Winter whisper a "so small" to himself as he exits through the door, sending a gust of cold wind inside that makes you shudder.
As you follow him with your gaze through the window, he nearly looks like Leonardo in The Revenant with the rugged long hair and large fur as the snowflakes steadily rain down on him. Sam made you and Steve watch the movie a few weeks ago.
You wonder if Steve's been able to contact anyone. He definitely tried, if you know him as well as you think you do. Everyone back at the compound probably thinks you're dead by now, and might not look for you. If it weren't for Winter, you would be dead after all.
•  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  •  • 
Two long and despicably boring hours drag on before you hear footsteps outside on the porch. And you can't help but stand up from where you've been sitting on the floor, limping towards the door as it's thrown open.
Winter has three fishes hanging from his hand. Slightly comical and also a little gross. There's probably some lake around here that he's been able to drill a hole into or something.
Your amused smile meets his stoic face that lights up just slightly when he sees you. Butterflies and heart eyes or what not—if he had been just a tinge more adapted to social cues he would've noticed the impact he has on you.
Winter's break in resolve quickly disappears as he realizes just what you are doing. He told you to not move a finger while your foot was still hurt.
"No. No standing," he seethes, nodding towards the tattered couch. You just give him a teasing smile in return. "Y/n. Little bunny," he sighs, laying down the fishes on his table and a handful of red berries that roll away.
"What, Winter?" you ask, trying to will the heat away from your cheeks. If you're honest, just standing like this is completely fine. It's walking that hurts like a fucking bitch.
With slow steps he nears your figure, towering over you with his massive build. You have to crane your neck to see his face, shuddering with the quiet growl sounding from his chest.
"No standing, I said. Only I carry you," he tells you, pointing his finger into your chest.
A gulp. An exhale that makes you realize how dry your mouth is all of a sudden.
"No?"
"Not listen to me. Makes me not happy—angry," Winter says. "Foot will be more bad if standing on it all the time."
Two dozens of minutes later he has obviously gotten his way. You don't think you could say no to him when he flashes those blue eyes of his without even trying.
Comfortably sitting on the couch that has been moved closer to the fire with a fur blanket wrapped around your shoulders, you watch him prepare food for the two of you once more. An old copper pan is filled with snow that has since long melted, now boiling so you can both drink some water for the first time in almost two days.
The palm of your hand is filled with cranberries that Bucky picked just for you—he told you so himself—that you've been snacking on. They're a little bit sour, but you're so hungry that you'd practically eat anything.
"Winter, can I ask you something?"
He turns his head around, facing you while laying down his knife.
"What did you do before coming here? Who were the people who called you, uh, who called you an Asset?"
A frustrated breath of air comes out of his nose, like merely the thought of his past angers him. And you begin to suspect that he has all right to feel that way.
"They made me kill. Have made many people dead with this arm."
Winter stretches it out in front of him, inspecting it like it is the first time. With disgust and a distaste so deeply ingrained that you can see his pained thoughts from here.
Within the blink of an eye he turns his attention towards the fire again, turning the fish so it doesn't get burnt. You don't say anything.
"They made me forget also. I did not want to, so then use special words and machine to make me do things." His back is tense now, the outline of his muscles distinct through the fabric of his shirt. "Hold me there for so long. Can't remember anything now from before."
The sound of a knife scraping against metal pierces through the air. It's the tip dragging against his arm, without creating as much as a dent despite the pressure.
"I do not want to hurt. Not you ever," Winter says.
The breath gets stuck in your throat, eliciting a choked, high-pitched sound as you try to find an answer worthy enough of the horrific crimes just confessed to you. All this he has been through, all the things he has done for the past two days, and he has the nerve to assure you that he means no harm.
"Winter," you whisper, barely noticeable when your throat is so thick and dry that you can barely speak. "Look at me. Please."
A sea of blue and sorrow and hatred and so much softness meets your own eyes. God, this man.
"You deserve good things. And I am not afraid of you, nor should you be of yourself. Honey, you've suffered enough. Don't let yourself be another source of pain."
Your palm comes to rest against his cheek, eyelids fluttering shut as he leans into your touch. You don't know if he understood every word, but it doesn't really matter as long as he understood the meaning behind them. And you think he does.
Winter cries. Tears, though few, leak down onto your skin as he silently grieves what life was taken from him. You don't know much about what he's lived through, but you know enough now to mourn for him too. You know enough to hold hate larger than you ever have for the people that used him.
That evil in the likes of villains on a screen exists among humanity is not new. You've heard about it in mission reports, in conversations between agents and seen it up front. Though nothing new, it hurts and aches in parts of your heart you thought were permanently disabled. Empathy has never been your strongest point but it might just break you right now.
"C'mere," you whisper while holding your arms out for him to escape into.
Winter drags himself forward to close the few feet between you, arms wrapping themselves around your waist as he buries his face into your lap.
What must be half an hour passes by with your fingers tangled up in his hair, nails gently scraping his scalp, and Winter's soft breathing warming up your legs. His own must be numb by now.
The food is long forgotten and probably burnt. You haven't really taken your eyes off of him for the entirety of this time. And despite what must be a routine lacking any sort of hair care, Winter has strands softer than a kitten's and a newfound source of jealousy for you. In these moments you don't particularly mind when your hands are the ones who get to feel his dark brown hair sift through your fingers.
But it hasn't been silent. No, you've rambled on about anything he might find interesting about your life to keep him distracted. He doesn't say anything, but you know he's listening. During things he doesn't like he squeezes your thigh, and sometimes he lets out quiet sounds as reaction.
"I love reading. I've probably read fifty books this year outside of research for work," you tell him, leaning your head back against the couch. "But not any classics, those are too hard to understand. I like simple stories with clichés and happy-endings. Makes me believe that I might find happiness like that someday too."
A particularly noticeable puff of air escapes Winter, hitting your leg with the warmth of it. An agreement, maybe? Or a silent plead for you to shut your mouth for a second?
"Oh, and I cook a lot too. But mostly the same three dishes. I'm not really that good, but I've perfected this tomato sauce I've been doing since I was 18."
You lift your hand to scratch your nose for only a second, and Winter still lets out a nearly silent whine for your absence. It makes you laugh, tugging on a few strands in answer.
"Do you want me to talk more?" you ask him.
He nods, holding onto you a little tighter.
"And is it really comfortable sitting on the floor? Don't you wanna come up to the couch?"
A shake of his head. Still. A nod.
Winter places his hands on either side of you, pushing himself up from the floor until he's standing tall right in front of your figure.
It only takes a pat of your hand on the cushion beside you for him to sit down. You push yourself into the armrest, legs crossed to your best ability with a foot that still has good swelling to it, to give him enough space. The couch is too small in reality and had its shining moments before you were born, but when Winter unfolds your legs and drapes them over his lap the two of you fit well enough.
“Thank you,” his rough voice croaks out after a silence so long you nearly forgot the meaning of speaking. The comfortable silence is always going to be good enough communication for you.
Your eyes are closed and too heavy to open again. What time it is you have no idea about, but it’s dark and you’re exhausted, but find some sliver of energy to answer him.
“What for?” you ask, soft voice on the verge of being slow.
“You are very…kind. Kind and uh, cute. Pretty.” His hand strokes up and down your leg, as if the thought of not touching you is unbearable. “Also smell so good. Want to be close all the time.”
The entirety of your body tenses up and you don’t know why. Why do your limbs turn to stone when his words burn in your veins, sends heat to your face and ears and heart that beats faster with each passing second?
You want to answer, but Winter beats you to it. Instead of expecting you to say anything in return he pets you on the head gently.
“Little bunny so tired. Already sleeping almost,” he says, more to himself than for your sake. You already know how tired you are.
The solid couch disappears from underneath you as he carries you with him to the bed. And just like last night, he maneuvers you until you’re laying flat atop of him.
A pleased hum sounds from your lips, snuggling into his warm hold with a tired smile adorning your face.
“Winter, tomorrow I would really like some pasta. A big pot that nobody else gets to taste but us,” you mumble. “Not even Steve.”
And Winter doesn’t really understand what you’re babbling about, but you can feel his smile despite your eyes being closed.
You could get used to this, and you haven’t felt like a life without Steve constantly nearby is something you could ever be without before. Two days and nights is all it took.
It scares you.
Part III
197 notes · View notes
coffeehater · 2 years
Text
Wesker x Gn reader
Cw; wesker thinks reader is inferior ar first, asshole wesker, emotionally stunted wesker, wesker doesn't take rejection nicely.
Tw; yandere wesker, forced relationships, implied stalking, wesker kidnaps reader.
Headcanons about how wesker falls for someone thats the complete opposite of him and how he definitely does not handle rejection normally + a small fic at the end
Word count ; 2,775
•Wesker never really thought about having a partner he didn't have the time or patience to look for someone he deems worthy enough to be by his side seeing as most humans are worthless in his eyes and he finds only a handful worthy of making it to his new world. you were just another face working for umbrella corp someone he didn't think of at all, as time went on he began to despise you he could already tell you were a human of no worth someone completely inferior to himself.
•You were kind,understanding, bright and passionate about your work almost sickeningly so. You were too nice for your own good and anyone could take advantage of you (which is all the more reason you are weak and a lesser being) not only that but you were sheltered from the real business going on in umbrella corp sure you helped create viruses but you had no idea that they were to be used as bioweapons in fact you thought you were simply making them to find each strain of virus and how to find cures for them.
•All around you were insufferable when he first met you just another pest he'd eventually kill.
•You noticed wesker's disdain for you and it confused you. You tried your best to be nice and cause as least trouble as possible but he just seemed to have it out for you. At first you thought it was because you were new and he wanted you to prove yourself not to be useless; so you tried to engage in conversations and talk to him more often than you would any person while trying extra hard to never make mistakes and not complain even when he was cruel for no reason, it didn't work it only made you gain his ire where now he purposefully calls you out for even the smallest things he wouldn't for anyone else.
•It would take trial and error but eventually you'd learn that wesker wasn't someone you could just make like you he was much harder to please and his aloofness wasn't just towards you it was towards everyone so you learnt not to take his coldness to heart and started allowing him to come to you rather then the other way around; that didn't mean you didn't occasionally start up a conversation (otherwise the relationship wouldn't progress) it just meant you learned to read him and know when he was in a good enough mood to indulge in simple conversation with you it was a process learning every que and indicator of his feelings but eventually you got the hang of it.
•It was a slow process for wesker to acknowledge you as someone he considered anything other then absolutely annoying and even longer for him to consider your company tolerable but he got there. he still busts your ass and micromanages you as well as using his power over you to make you do little things or to insult you (sometimes it's not even on purpose he just isn't good with social cues) one time you brought him coffee just on a whim since you were getting yourself some and you decided to do a nice gesture for him you figured it wasn't a big deal and was small enough for him not to get upset. He was slightly annoyed since he doesn't even need coffee due to the virus running through his system but he figures this Is another way he can bust your chops (while he doesn't hate you he thinks you shouldn't be working for umbrella corp anyways due to you not know of umbrellas true nature and wants you to quit, not for your sake but because he doesn't want to deal with the off chance you find out what's really going on and get emotional) "Hmm, I expect you to do this from now on without me asking" he says and that was final it becomes a ritual for you guys that whenever wesker is at his office and not off on some mission that you bring him coffee you don't really mind because it gives you more opportunities to talk with and get to know him.
•This is were his feelings truly begin to develop into something more romantic-ish——( I don't want to say it's fully leaning towards romantic because it's not but I feel like this can be interpreted as both romantic and platonic)——because not only does he see you very often but he also gets more insight on who you are as a person. And while he still doesn't like that you are so nice he begins to unconsciously latch onto you he doesn't even notice he's doing it and it just happens once that happens he begins to appreciate certain things about your kindness especially once he realizes you're not trying to get something from him and that you actually just wanted to be nice it's a bit surprising to say the least since he's not used to kindness in his line of work unless it is to gain something, but he's glad nonetheless and it actually has benefited him at times (he also just likes the feeling when you say something nice about him and while he doesn't need it because he's already aware he's good at everything he still finds himself liking the sentiment though he'd never admit it not even to himself)
•As the relationship progresses even more moving towards a full blown friendship wesker will begin to seek out your presence especially if you haven't seen him that day, he won't do it all the time as he has an appearance to keep up, but he will do it occasionally especially if you haven't came to him in a while if the the excuse can be utlizided he will most definitely say it's because you haven't been bringing him his morning coffee although he'll say it in such an asshole way that you won't think anything of it "I believe I ordered you to bring me my beverage each day are you so incompetent that you can follow simple orders?" At this point you get annoyed when wesker insults you or says things like that and so you occasionally get on his case about it and tell him there are better ways to talk to someone/request something at first he brushes aside your concerns until his dumbass realizes you were less likely to talk to him when he continued his behavior from then on he tries to be less judging and less tormenting when he realizes he could actually lose your companionship he hates to admit it but he's become accustomed to you and your voice it would be annoying to have to go without it now.
•You notice the change and while it doesn't completely stop him from being an asshole you recognize he's at least trying (only for you) and you appreciate it you never say anything because you're sure if you did he'd revert back to being a complete asshole but you try to silently let him know.
•It takes a while but wesker begins to realize truly how much he cares for you and at first he hates it he doesn't want to care for anyone because they can be used against him but eventually he comes to terms with the fact and decides that you will join him in the new world once he has everything in place. In the meantime he will pull the wool over your eyes and keep you unaware of his plans.
• now that he has decided to bring you into his new world wesker becomes fully obsessed with you in every way and tries to learn everything that he can you're a fascinating being to him above all else and he wants to feel like he knows you better then everybody even if it's just the little things, he remembers everything you say so I wouldn't try lying to him he will not take it well. He also becomes overprotective and if anyone ever tries to hurt you they will be getting an earful detailing exactly why they're completely useless he won't let anything against you slide you'll basically have a secret guard dog that you don't even know about, wesker knows you would be upset if you found out he was hurting people for you and so he does so secretly.
• Eventually wesker realizes his feelings aren't exactly hinging on just curiosity anymore and that he might actually have feelings for you, he tries his best to ignore it and shove the feelings away he just cannot believe that he has fallen for anyone. He reacts with anger at first and most of it is directed at you no surprise there he begins treating you like you are nothing again maybe in hopes to convince himself that? And you are not having it you decide that if he's going to completely give up on progressing then you aren't going to give him the time of day outside of what you had to, he is still your superior after all so you can't exactly avoid him completely though you wish you could.
• When he finally comes to the conclusion that he cannot get rid of his feelings for you he deduces that you are the only one worthy of his precious time and attention and that he simply must have you now that he's accepted his feelings.
•He decides that you must only have the best when he confesses to you that he wants to impress you and let you know he certainly can provide, so he books a table at an expensive restaurant a week in advance.
• when you outright reject him he's shocked he doesn't quite understand and he demands that you explain yourself he gets angrier and angrier by the second when you explain that you're not interested in him he just cannot fathom the idea that you don't want him not when he's the most perfect man for you. You can tell he's getting more and more angry his voice rising in tone eventually he altogether stops talking you hope that's the end of it you apologize if only to be Courteous and leave your skin prickles as you can feel the heat of his gaze on you.
•you were still tense from your earlier encounter with wesker you'd never seen him lose composure like that and frankly you were terrified something in him seemed to snap something dangerous and you didn't want to be on the receiving end of that anger. After some contemplation you decide to call in sick from work. You needed to relax and figure out whether or not you were safe at work.
•Wesker is annoyed with your initial rejection but he's able to convince himself you were playing hard to get and so he wait for you to come to him this time, he was sure you would after all he's the perfect man it'd be foolish to reject him. But you don't and he's beginning to feel something uncomfortable claw at his stomach, surely you didn't mean to reject his advances completely? But As the days pass he becomes more and more anxious more impatient until finally he decides you must be playing hard to get especially since you haven't been showing up to work these past few days calling in "sick" it was a quick search in employee files for him to find your address if you weren't going to come to him on your own then he was going to force your hand.
Short fic for the ending
_____
There are zombies outside you don't know what the hell happened while you were sleeping but everything has gone to utter shit, your hands tighten against the perch of your window as you assess the damage. Just outside of your window view you can see that there are crashed cars probably from people rushing to get out of the city you think and as you scan them you realize some of the cars have dead bodies and you shudder feeling your heart ache for them. Your eyes look around spotting at least 10 people who aren't infected yet running around screaming in panic, some are being chased you realize looking at the gray peeling skin of a zombie that was bounding after one of the survivors. Your hands are shaking as you stare out into the chaos you don't know what to do you have no weapons other than dull knives in your kitchen it's better then nothing but you wouldn't dare get near any of the infected and you aren't much of a fighter anyways so it's either you're stuck here until someone hopefully comes to the rescue or you go out there and try your luck at escaping neither option seems great and you can feel yourself hyperventilating. Suddenly your phone rings shaking you out of your stupor you hurry towards it it reads out
unknown number
you don't hesitate to answer, feeling hope slowly rise in your body at the mere idea of being rescued, maybe you could even save the people outside. "Hello?" You say taking a deep breath trying to calm your beating heart
"Y/n'' you freeze your blood running cold at the sound of wesker's voice "there's been an accident during the transportation of the T-virus your city is infected although I'm sure you're already aware" you say nothing "y/n are you still there?" You don't want to talk to him but wesker might be your only hope "yes" you say breathlessly "you've not been infected have you?"
"No i haven't been outside" you mutter walking back towards the window to look outside it again.
"Good, a rescue party is on its way stay where you are and do not leave" you sag in relief "thank God there's a few other people that are Alive out here tell them there is at least ten that i saw so they can search the area for them" there is a pause and you would've believed he hung up on you if it wasn't for the soft sound of his breathing.
"I'm afraid that isn't possible dearheart"
"What? Wesker they're innocent civilians I'm sure they could find the time to search for them we can't just leave them there!"
"They do not matter dear-"
"Of course they matter, how could you say that?" You hear a sigh "Okay dearheart just wait there they will come and retrieve you, and search for the civilians" you sigh in relief "thank you" he says nothing in response and the phone beeps signifying he'd hung up on you.
20 minutes later
You hear banging at your door "y/l/n? Open up" it was wesker as much as you were uncomfortable you were glad to hear his voice after only hearing screams for the past twenty minutes, wesker steps in once the door is opened and you look behind him expecting to see a few others but it's just him "where are the others?" He pointedly ignores your question and looks around your apartment almost judgingly before his eyes meet yours or at least you assume so you can't see them past his shades.
"Wesker, where are the others?" You ask a little more frantically this time he takes long strides towards you again ignoring your question.
"it's such a shame you made me do this y/n" each step you take back he punctuates with a larger step forward until your back is pressed up against the wall.
"Do what? Wesker what's going on?" You are practically chest to chest at this point with how close he is. You have zero time to react when you are stabbed in the neck with a needle. You immediately begin to struggle to get away from him but he traps you in his strong arms "Wesker why?" You slur your vision beginning to blur.
"You may not realize it yet y/n but you were made to rule by my side" all that did was leave even more questions in your mind you shook your head weakly he only sighs in response
"I know you will not see it yet dearheart but in due time you will realize your place is with me" you try to open your mouth to protest but it is too heavy to move your forced to lean your body against him too weak to hold yourself up.
"Do not fret dear, you will be well taken care of" is the last thing you hear.
I had to rewrite this so many times with many different endings to find one I could stick with writing it. If you enjoyed this feel free to send in a request about wesker.
262 notes · View notes
Text
NSFW Headcanons~ Tom “Iceman” Kazansky
Tumblr media
(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)
(Yes, you’re allowed to ask for specifics of either of the two scenarios presented in these hcs. Sorry I’m a whore.)
- I love Iceman, I really do, …I just wanna see him suffer a little bit…as a treat.
- Okay no, but look me in the eyes and tell me that enemies with benefits!Iceman isn’t the superior scenario. Look me in the eyes and tell me that you wouldn’t wanna see him sweat and get jealous over a girl who’s seemingly, only barely, interested in him and his too cool for everything attitude.
- The writers wanted us to think that he’s dripping in sex appeal and that he’s ice cold all the way but I can’t help but think that he just has zero game; at least in the way of blatant flirtation. I think a lot of his seduction would come from the cat and mouse game that the two of you would play and through the kind of sexual tension that only two people who hate each other’s guts; yet secretly like each other just a little bit, could have.
- There’s a fine line between regular frustration and sexual frustration and when you’re with Iceman, the line is even finer. He’ll swear he hates you up and down but he’s the one letting you shove him into an army base broom closet whenever you wanted. And lets not forget that your whole rivalry probably only started because you publicly humiliated him the first time he tried to flirt with you.
- Nevertheless, regardless of what kind of relationship the two of you have, the only downside that comes from sleeping with him is the fact that he’s typically too proud to admit that he’s horny. He doesn’t want you to know just how much you affect him so he chooses to; technically, let you make the first move. But it isn’t hard to see what he wants from you: especially when you’re finally in a relationship and you’ve memorized all his silent social cues.
- Like I said before: it isn’t hard to tell when he wants you, mainly because he’ll stare at you until you take notice; and won’t look away when you catch him. Personal space is nonexistent when he’s itching to have you in bed with him so don’t be surprised when you’re suddenly nose to nose.
- Before the two of you slept together, you figured that he was just being a stereotypical douche and sizing you up, but nowadays, you can’t help but notice that he was doing the exact same thing he does now when he wants to kiss you and is too proud to say.
- He’ll egg you on with certain actions of his, but he won’t initiate things himself unless he’s really desperate and you aren’t giving in. And sometimes; when he’s really annoyed you, you’ll give him just a little and then leave him high and dry; especially if he smiles a little too smugly when you finally pull him away.
- He was two seconds away from going at it with Maverick in most of their scenes together but let’s focus specifically on the scene at the bar when he asks Maverick if he “needs any help”. I can just imagine him approaching you during a dry spell; caused by you wanting to see how long it would take for him to make the first move, exactly like that: trying to ask you, without actually asking you, if you’d be willing to go home with him/informing you that he’s ready and willing to “perform” if you needed him to.
- Iceman stays cool during everything else in his life so that sex can be a different story. He’s not out of control but he is on edge: his emotions getting the best of him as he rushes to rid himself of his clothes and fight with you for dominance; a fight that you either win or let him win depending on how you’re feeling that day.
- Foreplay is pretty nonexistent between the two of you for this exact reason. By the time you’ve found a place to jump each other, you’re doing just that: two seconds away from ripping your uniforms apart because you just can’t wait any longer.
- So yeah, quickies are pretty commonplace. A lot of your lunch and shower breaks are spent indulging in a flurry of hands and rushed attempts to fit around each other in cramped, close quarters.
- Slower sex happens a lot less often but it definitely happens a whole lot more when the two of you are finally in a relationship with each other. And though he enjoys everything that the two of you do together, he’s happy that that’s the case. You might tease him about taking so long but you can’t help the butterflies that appear in your stomach when he mumbles out that he’s “been waiting for a chance to do things like this” while he kisses down your body and reveals more and more of your skin little by little.
- Speaking of taking things slow: he loves to take his time when he goes down on you; almost to an agonizing extent. He knows exactly how to get you off without a hitch so his insistence to keep you on the edge and not give you just that little bit more is absolutely done on purpose; even if he likes to teasingly play dumb.
- But you’d be a liar if you said that you didn’t do the exact same thing. You take pleasure in making him lose control, and it’s not your fault that he looks so attractive when his face is screwed up in pleasure and his hands are clenched tightly at his sides.
- He’s definitely a switch but he’s probably only ever been the dominant one with all his past partners. And yet, all it took was one very specific wet dream and/or a relatively innocent action of yours; like standing above him while he was laying in the sand, and suddenly he was falling to his knees for you with zero hesitation.
- A little off topic, but speaking of him falling to his knees: he probably really pissed you off at some point and tried making it up to you with his fingers; because we all know how skilled his fingers are. And while he was thinking that he was going to give you a “proper apology” once he got you good and ready; trying to kiss you and make you look him in the eyes the entire time, you were getting ready to blow him off once he gave you what you wanted.
- Eye contact is a big thing for him; especially when he’s the one in charge. He loves any and all attention that you give him; even if your eyes are narrowed in a glare whenever you’re looking at him.
- Kissing is also very important, but be prepared because once you start, you’re not gonna be able to stop. You let him kiss you once during your “benefits stage” and he just never stopped. Half of it’s because it keeps the two of you quiet but the other half is just because he enjoys it more than he cares to admit.
- I refuse to believe that his throat and collarbones aren’t sensitive. I refuse to believe that if you kissed him there, he wouldn’t immediately melt and begin to pant and gasp like he just ran a mile.
- If it wasn’t already obvious before: a lot of your sex is passionate and fiery; with heavy handed groping and white knuckled grips, but I also think that he’d really enjoy making love to you; especially when time properly allowed it. Being able to take his time and spend an entire night with you until the two of you are completely satiated and spent is a special kind of heaven for him.
- He’s pretty vanilla but he does experiment …and the two of you may or may not have had a really long night where ice cubes and praise/degradation were involved.
- Praise is typically involved, whether he means for it to be or not. He’s a talker and that isn’t gonna change anytime soon so expect a compliment or two to slip out; even when he’s supposed to “hate you”. Mainly though, you should expect a lot of teasing since it’s one of his favorite things to do.
- Missionary position where the two of you are as close as can be is definitely one of his favorites but he can’t deny that he absolutely loves having you ride him. If he didn’t like it, he wouldn’t sit like that, and that’s all I’m going to say about that.
- Alas, since the two of you are deviants who wind up “christening” any room that isn’t occupied: a lot of your sex is had while sat on top of random tables or pushed up against random walls. Don’t mind the marks he leaves on you thighs while he hikes your legs up around his hips….
- Listen, if you didn’t want to be pushed into a broom closet, you wouldn’t have talked to Maverick and had the audacity to look like the two of you were flirting. And don’t pretend that you don’t enjoy the way he snatches you away and refuses to speak when you teasingly question him about his sudden desperation and his comments about how you “shouldn’t talk to him”.
- Speaking of jealousy: he gets pretty jealous whenever you insinuate that he isn’t the absolute best there is at something he does in the bedroom. He takes pride in “knowing your body like no one else” so you’re not gonna get away with comments like those. He’ll immediately feel the need to prove his worth or seductively joke that you should let him practice; depending on how bold he’s feeling that day.
- He’s average sized but he’s also built with insulting precision. He has like every little specific thing that makes a dick a “fine piece of equipment” but you’re convinced that informing him of this fact would make his ego a bit too big to handle.
- His swimmers are like the fighter jets that he flies so I would heavily recommend using birth control. You will neglect using a condom for a variety of different reasons and you will wind up pregnant if you aren’t careful,… just saying.
- He’s a bit awkward when it comes to aftercare but if you need something, he’ll provide. Funnily enough, it’s usually him that needs it: growing quiet once the two of you finish and nervously fidgeting; not really sure how to ask for a bit of reassurance. You’ll pull him down for a kiss or you’ll kiss his cheek/neck, saying a “love you” or a fond “I’ll see you around, yeah?” and he’ll immediately feel better.
- Either way, he’s definitely more of a “relax next to you” type of person rather than a “let’s snuggle after I give you a whores bath and cook you a five star meal” type of person.
246 notes · View notes
snakeautistic · 3 months
Text
I have an uncanny talent for embarrassing myself horribly in public even when I’m working overtime to not fuck up.
Case in point I recently(ish) biked over to the korean market store my parents go to sometimes because I was suddenly hit buy the urge to buy an ungodly amount of daifuku (which I didn’t even end up eating most of either…)
I’m on high alert in grocery stores because I always find them particularly awkward, but I managed to fill my basket without incident. Now all I had to do was check out. I walked up to what I assumed was a self checkout- there was no employee there, and it looked about right. I noted this was a little weird because I didn’t remember there being a self checkout the last time I was here, but I reasoned it had been a whole, and I knew a lot of stores had installed self checkouts during the pandemic.
I start trying to scan my items- but I find myself a little perplexed. There are wayyy more buttons on the screen of this checkout, and the layout is weird. Knowing that this is a smaller, family owned store, I think maybe they got some weird brand instead of the standard. I continue to try and check out my items, to… little success.
Suddenly, I see someone RUSHING at me- an employee. She’s staring at me with this look of abject horror, and I am staring back DESPERATELY trying to figure out what’s going on. She says something but she doesn’t speak any English, so here I am stuck trying to figure out a confusing social situation through only facial cues and Body language,,, not ideal for little old autistic me.
I know something is horribly wrong, but I haven’t quite figured out what. I try to explain that I’m just checking out my items, picking up another item and scanning it, and she looks even more horrified. There’s a few other people in the store, and they’re just standing there, watching. It takes me a few minutes to put two in two together. Fuck. This is NOT a self checkout machine. She’s looking at me like that because I just commandeered her retail job,,
I instantly back away, apologizing profusely- though I’m not at all sure she can understand me. I tell her how sorry I am, and that I was super confused and how silly I feel now. She just kind of looks at me, still absolutely confounded, but no longer in terror, so that’s an improvement. She gets behind the counter, and, well, I do have shit to buy, so she scans the items and bags them for me. I pay, and then leave, a little stunned. I hop on my bike, and vow to never return to that store…
(I actually have gone back since- though not on my own, and luckily I haven’t seen that worker since. I have this fear she quit after that experience because tbh I would have if that was my job)
7 notes · View notes
defenestrationtactics · 6 months
Text
please kindly stop
Tumblr media
hi hello another quick(?) rant but SAHSHASH
why does everyone treat ruff and tuff like they're not smart? every time any jokes happen related to them its 'oh they're just super dumb and don't actually get anything but its funny ha ha' and i mean, yes. in some ways it is kinda funny, and it is quite endearing, but sometimes it gets to the point where they go "oh these guys have no other traits but the fact that they're super unintelligent". and its not true, because these guys are actually SUPER SMART! like their whole thing is that they're just 'crazy-brilliant-inspired' (to quote snotlout in hit whump fic true colours, pls read) and yeah, maybe they take a bit longer to get some stuff, and they don't always understand whatever the others are doing, but like - thats half of the neurodivergent community. anyone can tell they're neurodivergent. and whether that was a choice by the screenwriters or thats just whats happened, imo they are super neurodivergent and when stuff like this (aka. the above picture) happens, and people just kinda go, 'oh don't worry about them they're just kinda stupid' it just pisses me off big time. like dreamworks i know this isnt a cool little comment on society ur just being abelist and i really dont like it. even if it is for the funnies and the giggles, maybe just make people, idk, not comment and say they're stupid? i know thats not exactly what is being said above but its 100% implied and its done multiple times an episode. like its funny once. the second time you're like ehhh. and the 5000th time i just really feel like cutting off someones head.
point is, please stop being weirdly abelist. even if your not trying to make a character explicitly neurodivergent and you're not trying to be a bitch, if you thought about if for ONE second, you'd realise what you're doing. imagine being a 10 y.o and watching this and thinking, great, i bet everyone talks like this behind my back and thinks im unintelligent just because i don't always get social cues or weirdly specific things people are talking about.
kindly, please stop and reassess your life choices. thanks. (i know they cant this came out like 8 years ago but anyway...)
13 notes · View notes
Text
(This is the long, completed version of Jess dreaming about Lenny after he’s passed away)
He’s been reading too hard again.
Jess Mariano has a weird habit, where if he reads too hard, too much, it all starts showing up in his dreams, and Lenny’s memoir is no exception.
He dreams of a dim, smoky café, where a woman in a fancy black dress and pearls is making the audience laugh. 
“She’s so good,” the man next to him says reverently, and when he looks, he finds a tall man, dark hair and a hand in front of his mouth, watching the woman intently. 
“Lenny?” Jess marvels. 
He smirks. “Hey, kid.” 
“You-” 
“Ssshh. Just listen.” 
And Jess does, and it takes him all of a second to realize that that’s Midge onstage, eating the audience alive. And Lenny is right. She is so, so good.
“...Anyhow, my point is, with the ring came the sex. Exclusive sex. Right? Something to count on. Something you know is yours. Like a social security number or a family history of insanity.” 
Jess laughs quietly and Lenny smiles. 
“Sometimes I look back on this night,” he tells Jess. “And I wonder why I waited so long.” 
“Weren’t you still married to Honey when this happened?” Jess asks. 
Lenny nods. “I was. But not for very much longer. I could have made a move sooner. I just- I didn’t know if she- hold on, this is my cue.” 
Midge wraps her set to thunderous applause, and then rushes off the stage, launching herself into Lenny’s arms, and he hugs her tightly. 
“How could you not have known that she wanted you?” Jess asks, a little annoyed. 
Lenny smirks from over Midge’s shoulder. “Don’t bother the dead, kid.” 
Jess wakes up with a jolt after that, looking around Luke’s old apartment above the diner and rolls his eyes.
“Fuck.” 
***** 
Another night. Another dream. A cramped little jazz club, and this time, he’s onstage with Lenny as Lenny does his set.
Except he’s not actually doing his set, he’s talking to Jess. 
“I clocked her in the audience right when she took a seat,” Lenny tells him. “The headband and the cute little black pants and the coat. After Trent and the three - the guys behind me - hey guys - play their first set, I’m gonna invite her out back with us to get high, and then she’s going to stand right here where I’m standing, and roast the fuck out of me for a years-old joke she saw me tell at a strip club once.” 
Jess watches Lenny carefully, this youthful version he’s only seen in photos and the occasional documentary. He’s so used to the older version: a little stooped and white-haired with hard-earned wrinkles. It’s deeply strange to see him at nearly thirty-five. 
“Love at first roast?” Jess offers, amused.
Lenny grins and nods sheepishly. “It’s not entirely inaccurate.” 
Jess wakes with less of a jolt then and sighs. It feels like Lenny is trying to tell him something, but that’s fucking ridiculous. 
He takes the coldest shower he can stand and starts his day. 
***** 
Another night.
Another dream. 
A dive bar on a rainy night. 
Lenny sits between Jess and Midge, and he’s looking truly rundown. 
“Newly divorced, on the run from a warrant for my arrest in Chicago,” Lenny shrugs. “Missing my daughter, and a little homeless…aimless…and there she is. Until the day I died I never figured out why she kept saving me.” 
“She loves you, Lenny,” Jess tells him. “It’s that simple.” 
Lenny takes the drink in front of Jess and downs it, clearly feeling the burn of it. “That was still not my drink.” 
Jess chuckles softly. 
“It’s going to be okay,” Midge says firmly. 
Lenny looks at Midge and shakes his head. “She has this habit, you know. She knows just what to say when my whole heart is in tatters. She’s gonna do it again in another moment.” 
Jess looks confused. These dreams never have full conversations, it seems. 
“I’m going to tell her about my Steve Allen gig, and she’s going to catch that I am fucking nervous,” Lenny explains. “She’s going to tell me about accompanying her very young son- who will, in a handful of years - become my stepson - on his first playdate, and how she stayed outside the whole time, even though it rained.” 
“Want me to stand outside your playdate?” Midge asks, grinning at Lenny understandingly.
“And there it is,” Lenny tells him. “In that one sentence. That’s when there was no turning back.” He gets to his feet, digging out some money to pay for the drink he stole, and keeps chatting with Jess. “I’m going to tell her to bring her umbrella to my playdate, and leave like I’m cool or something. But in reality…fuck, I don’t know. Sometimes it was tough not to beg her to come home with me - not that I had a home at this point.” 
Jess follows, shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. “Umbrella.” He remembers Lenny’s funeral. Being asked to bring one. Everyone being asked to bring one. Midge had stepped out of the car at the cemetery for the burial to a sea of umbrellas, lifted her own very pink one, and led the way. 
And this is why.
Jess wakes up and sighs, staring at the ceiling. What are the point of these stupid fucking dreams? Is he really just reading too much, too hard on Lenny’s memoir? Is this a belated grieving thing? 
Jesus. 
***** 
“This is not a proud moment for me,” Lenny tells Jess as they stand out on the sidewalk in front of Midge’s apartment building on the Upper West Side. 
The sun is shining, Lenny has lost a shoe, Midge is bewildered, and the whole thing looks like I mess. 
“I got high last night,” Lenny explains. “And then drank a lot of whiskey. A lot. Of whiskey. And I blacked out on 8th Street. And luckily - or unluckily, I thought at the time - Midge was passing by. She spotted me. Brought me here.” He turns to the building. “To sleep it off safely.” 
“Were you together?” 
“No,” Lenny confesses. “We’ve been…dancing. Around this thing of ours, but no. And I was humiliated. And hungover and just-” He sighs, looking ashamed. “I took my shame out on her. I was horrible to her.” 
“Why?” 
“What was the impetus every time you were an asshole to Rory?” Lenny asks as he tries to offer Midge money, and Jess’s eyes go wide with panic at the gesture. 
“Lenny - fucking - no!” 
“I’m sorry, what do you think happened last night?” 
“Answer the question,” Lenny says. 
“I was fucked up and angry at myself and - ashamed of myself,” Jess tells him as he climbs into the cab with Lenny while Midge storms back into the building. 
“Yeah,” Lenny drawls. “My poor Miriam. The things I put her through. This bullshit, and the drugs…the convictions and appeals…she should have left me so many times. She had every right to, and she couldn’t do it.” 
“That whole love thing again,” Jess quips. 
“Don’t joke,” Lenny tells him as he lights a cigarette. “Midge has seen shit that would have you running scared.” 
Jess takes a breath. “Lenny, why do you keep popping up like this?” 
Lenny shrugs. “Seemed like there was more to talk about with you. More to explain. You and I, we always had nice conversations. Maybe you’re not ready for them to end yet.” 
He wakes up and shakes his head. “Fuck.” 
***** 
He stops Jess from walking into that very blue hotel room. 
“Not on your fucking life, kid,” Lenny tells him, and shuts the door. 
Jess wakes up laughing, but once he goes back to sleep, he finds himself dreaming of a bathroom and a bag. 
And Lenny again. 
“The thing you don’t know about me,” he says, standing there in nothing but a pair of undershorts, looking younger than Jess can ever remember even in pictures, the scars on the insides of his arms on display. “Is that I have always been a god-damn monster. And the idea that Midge didn’t think so is the only thing that kept me from dying young.” 
Jess wakes up again, and finds himself in his own bathroom with his cell phone. 
“Hello?” Rory asks sleepily. 
“I-” 
“Jess?” 
“Sorry. I’m sorry.” 
He hangs up. 
***** 
The problem with these dreams - the big problem - is that none of these instances are detailed in the book. Mentions are made of clubs and cafes. Of Blue rooms. But Lenny purposefully left out details that Jess has been dreaming about.
And he’s not sure what to do with that information, because either those things really happened and Jess is going bonkers, or he’s just dreaming weirdly specific stuff. 
And he knows he should ask Midge about it, but he can’t bring himself to do so. Midge is Midge and Midge will always tell him that she’s okay. That it doesn’t hurt too much. That Lenny lived a long, full life, and it was his time. But it doesn’t change the fact that she’s now living out the last years of her life without him, and that has to hurt. 
So in the morning when she stops in for breakfast, as she so often does, he just pours her coffee and asks her how her day is so far. 
But he finds himself looking at Midge in a new light. Not as the elderly woman who has always, somehow shown him kindness and tried to be family to him when he had very little, but he sees, now, the young, funny, fierce woman Lenny had fallen in love with.
“Have you ever thought about writing another book?” Jess asks out of the blue.
Midge looks surprised. “Not really.” 
“I mean, you don’t talk much about the early days in the one you wrote,” Jess points out. “Lenny doesn’t give a whole lot of details, but he talks about meeting you in the memoir. You kind of gloss over a lot of that stuff.” 
She shrugs, grinning. “Some things are just for me.” 
Jess nods, and keeps working, only for Rory to pop over to the counter. 
"Hey."
He nods to her. "Hey."
Rory purses her lips. "You called me last night and then hung up."
"Yeah," Jess confirms sheepishly. "I had a weird dream and I … I guess I wigged out a little.: 
She frowns. "Wanna talk about it?" 
"No. But thanks."
*****
"You know when you really let someone down?" Lenny asks from a hospital bed. 
Another dream. 
Lenny looks young and too thin and too pale. 
And Jess knows this is the overdose. 
Jess nods. "Yeah."
Lenny sighs and gazes past him, at the woman dozing in a chair in the corner. "Yeah."
Jess takes a breath and looks Lenny in the eyes. “Why?” 
The other man can only shrug and shake his head. “I don’t have answers. If I did, I don’t think I’d have wound up in this hospital bed.” 
“It just feels like you’ve been trying to tell me something,” Jess presses. “All these dreams, night after night.” 
Lenny just grins.
And Jess wakes up. 
***** 
“Do you dream about your grandfather?” Jess asks as he and Rory wander around the bookstore the next day. “Richard. Does he pop up a lot?” 
Rory frowns at him curiously. “Sometimes. But not in a significant way. Like, I’ll turn a corner, and he’ll be sitting there, reading a newspaper, and he’ll smile, or…or wave. But nothing intense or detailed.” 
Jess nods slowly as he tosses another book onto his stack of “to buy”’s. 
“Are you dreaming about Lenny?” Rory asks carefully. 
Jess blinks. “It’s just- weird. It’s weird. You know?” 
“He was family to you,” Rory points out gently. “And you miss him.” 
Jess just nods, but doesn’t say anything. 
“If you wanted to talk about it,” Rory offers gently. 
“Maybe,” he allows. “Maybe not now, but…maybe.” 
She shrugs and grins at him. “Whenever.” 
“Yeah.” 
***** 
“People really hated Midge after we got together,” Lenny explains as he lays back on a couch with Midge snuggled in against his chest as they read a newspaper together. “They thought that she was the reason I got clean, and they thought it made my comedy weaker. Less funny. Except all the bits people claimed were from my early days were from my post-drugs, with-Midge days…getting clean made me sharper, made the humor more biting. Angrier in a lot of ways. Got me in more trouble in some ways. People didn’t want to believe it.” 
“Another reason she should have left you?” Jess offers. 
“Eh. She’s not gonna,” Lenny shrugs, kissing the top of Midge’s head tenderly. “I got lucky.” 
“I’m sick of these dreams,” Jess snaps as he paces around the living room. 
“Then stop having them.” 
“How?!” 
Lenny shrugs again.
Jess wakes up and snarls, hopping out of bed and calling Rory.
*****  
“I keep having these dreams,” he admits, agitated as he paces the gazebo. The sun isn’t up. He woke Rory up for this, and he feels bad, but- “Every night this week, just - dream after dream, always Lenny, always something I’m pretty sure happened but I shouldn’t know that it happened. Always - talking about - him and Midge.” 
“Jess-” 
“I don’t know what he’s trying to tell me! Should this stuff be in the book? Am I supposed to learn some kind of after-school-special bullshit life lesson from all of this?” 
“Maybe you just miss him,” Rory says firmly from her seat on the bench, and it stops him in his tracks. 
He says nothing, staring at her face. 
“Lenny and Midge were a really stabilizing force in your life,” Rory offers. “They never broke up. They never got divorced, they never cheated on each other or actively hated each other. They were in love, and they love you like you're one of their own grandkids. And now half of that force is gone, and your brain is trying to make sense of that reality.” 
Jess swallows and looks down.  
“Do you need a hug?” Rory asks, getting to her feet. “I promise no funny stuff.” 
He shrugs and tries to joke. “I wouldn’t necessarily be opposed to funny stuff.” 
Rory laughs softly and hugs him around the neck. “Shut up.” 
***** 
Jess stands in the corner behind Midge's chair, watching them stare at each other.
"This place doesn't feel a little...I don't know. Weird and racist to you?" he asks.
Lenny shrugs. "It was the sixties. We were not woke."
Jess chuckles softly and wanders around a little, looking at the other patrons as they dance and drink.
"So this was your big plan to get her to fall for you?" he asks.
"Part of a larger scheme," Lenny admits. "Before this, we did a TV appearance on Miami After Dark with Bry Adler."
"The Hugh Hefner Wannabe?" Jess scoffs.
"Eh, I had already done the Playboy Penthouse thing," Lenny shrugs. "So we just ate dinner. We're enjoying drinks and each other's company. Nice and atmospheric."
"And weird and racist," Jess adds.
"Thanks for that."
"I'm just saying."
Lenny sighs heavily. "I wanted everything to be perfect. I wanted this night to be...I don't know. I think in the back of my head, I figured if I get one shot at this, I wanted to make it count. She's going to turn me down at the end of the night, by the way. We'll get back to my place, and she'll look at me and I'll look at her, and she'll hail a cab to get back to her hotel."
Jess frowns. "Why?"
Lenny takes a drag off his cigarette before putting it out and getting to his feet, offering Midge a hand. "Because stepping into that room would change what we are to each other. And she wasn't ready for it yet."
"You dance?"
Jess watches as Midge takes his hand and he gently leads her onto the dance floor.
He watches them, and thinks back on dancing with Rory at Luke and Lorelai's wedding. How comfortable that had been.
And suddenly, for the first time in any of these dreams, Lenny isn't talking to him.
"What's the matter? I'm not that bad."
Midge gazes at him. "I just can't think of anything funny to say."
Lenny agrees. "Me either. It's kind of nice, isn't it?"
Jess sits back, still watching as Midge rests her head on Lenny's shoulder, and he settles her hand onto his neck, holding her arm gently. And just like that, they go from Midge and Lenny...to MidgeandLenny. The MidgeandLenny that Jess has known since he was a dumb kid, with all of the tenderness and strength they always had with each other. For each other. Because of each other.
When he wakes up, he stares at the ceiling, 
***** 
He winds up coming clean to Liz one night on her front porch, over a couple of beers. 
Liz shrugs. “You just miss him, Jess.”
“You really think that’s it?” Jess asks. 
She nods. “I really do. He helped you a lot. He was invested in your wellbeing. In your future. And he bribed you with all those stories to get you to go to class. Luke told me about that. It’s hard to lose that kind of support.” 
“So…what do I do?” Jess asks. “How do I make these dreams stop?” 
“I don’t know that you can,” Liz admits. “It sounds like he’s sticking around, because he feels like you still need his help. So maybe…let him know that you’re gonna be okay. That he did a good enough job and that you can manage without him. Because he helped teach you how to.”
“That sounds so stupid,” Jess tells her.
 She laughs. “I know it does. But you know, I dreamt about my dad for a whole year after he passed away. And we would just have these fights. About nothing. About you. About Jimmy, and Luke and my mother and everything in my life. I decided to send you here in part because I started having those dreams again when you were in high school.” 
“That also sounds stupid.” 
“Drink your beer.” 
***** 
He dreams of an open field in the middle of nowhere, and Lenny is next to him. Younger than Jess has ever seen him, in documentaries, dreams or otherwise. 
Painfully young. Maybe twenty.  
“I worked here before the war,” Lenny explains. “This farm. I really liked it, but when I came back from the navy nobody really…” he shrugs. “They didn’t really want me here anymore. No one cared that I had come back.”
Jess stays quiet, watching the contemplative look on Lenny’s face. 
“And that feeling…that absence of belonging didn’t really go away until I found Midge,” Lenny says quietly. “But I always liked it here. I always meant to take Midge to see it, but I guess things were too busy. Family and work and whatnot.” 
“You should stay,” Jess tells him. “Hang out here for a while. See if it still fits.” 
Lenny lifts an eyebrow at him. 
“I’m okay,” Jess assures him. “I am.” 
Lenny still says nothing. 
“I’m okay, because you and Midge didn’t give up on me like everyone else had,” Jess admits. “My mom. The town. Even Luke almost gave up a couple of times, before I pulled it together. Lorelai from the second we met.”
Lenny huffs out a laugh. “You made quite the impression on her.” 
Jess smirks. “But you and Midge, you always had my back. And I’m grateful. And I’m okay.” 
Lenny nods, looking him over and patting his shoulder. “Okay, kid. If you’ve got it from here, then you’ve got it from here.” 
“I got it from here,” Jess confirms, looking back out over the landscape. 
“Hey,” Lenny says. “Don’t leave the Rory thing too long. She’ss gonna find somebody else if you do.” 
Jess chuckles and shakes his head. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 
When he wakes up, he wakes up crying.
***** 
Luke and Lorelai come back to town the next day, and Jess makes sure the diner is running smoothly, and everything is just the way Luke left it. They work behind the counter together, while Lorelai and Rory chat at one of the tables, and Midge joins them when she walks in, giving Lorelai a welcome home kiss, and patting Rory’s hand as they talk. 
“You okay?” Luke asks, lifting an eyebrow at him. “You seem kinda quiet today, even for you.” 
Jess nods “I’m good. Actually, you mind if I take a break?” 
Luke shrugs. “Go ahead.” 
He grabs his jacket and heads for the door. He catches Rory’s eye and nods, and she grins, promising her mother she’ll return shortly before following him.
“Hey,” she says, catching up with him as he heads for the gazebo. “Everything okay?” 
Jess nods. “Everything’s okay. I think the dreams are done.” 
Rory gives him a sympathetic look. “That’s good. That means you’re moving on a little more.” 
He takes a breath. “I just wanna say thank you for letting me lose my shit on you a little.” 
She laughs softly. “It’s really okay. Maybe I’ll turn that into a book one day, too.” 
“Some poor asshole getting haunted by the ghost of Lenny Bruce,” Jess jokes. “There are a lot of hipsters who would eat that up.” 
“Well maybe you should write it,” Rory suggests. 
He shrugs. “Seems too personal.” He takes a breath. “Maybe I can buy you dinner tomorrow night as a thank you for putting up with my insanity?” 
Rory smiles. “I’d like that. Like old times.” 
“I was hoping literally,” he admits. “Like a date.” 
Her smile falls a little, and she looks surprised. “Wow. A date? Like a…a date-date?” 
Jess shrugs. “I’m in a good place, you’re in a good place…I thought maybe…why the fuck not?” 
Rory smiles again, obviously thinking that over. “Why the fuck not. Okay. It’s a date-date.” 
He nods. “Good.” 
Jess nudges her shoulder with his on his way past her, back to the diner, but she reaches out for his coat and stops him, pulling him back, and into a brief kiss.
He blinks at her when it ends. “What was that for?” 
Rory just smiles and gives him a gentle shove before heading back to the diner. 
Jess shakes his head and follows.
END
69 notes · View notes
apocalypticavolition · 3 months
Text
Let's (re)Read The Great Hunt! Chapter 35: Stedding Tsofu
Tumblr media
Everyone knows that the Ogier have great trees, but this isn't one of them. It's much too small, even though realistically speaking it's probably one of the biggest trees you've ever seen! That's how fantasy works folks. And this blogging series works with lots and lots of spoilers for all of Wheel of Time so instead of expanding this post to its full Great Tree height, skip past it if you don't wanna see 'em!
We have another new icon! This one is also associated with the Ogier and Loial, but also steddings.
Verin pressed for speed, and Ingtar—grumbling constantly that they were letting themselves be tricked, that Fain would never have told them where he was really going, yet grumbling at the same time about riding in the opposite direction from Toman Head, as if part of him believed and Toman Head were not months away except by the way they took—Ingtar obliged her.
Ingtar's obsession here is reaching pretty concerning levels. It's really for the best that Verin and Rand are here so that they can accomplish what Ingtar wants accomplished. There's going to be a lot of times in this series where desperately wanting things is the best way to stop yourself from getting them, so it's good that Ingtar has this balance.
But as he followed them, he suddenly felt a chill pass through him, as though he had leaped into a Waterwood pond in winter. It flashed through him and was gone, leaving behind a feeling of refreshment. And there was a dull and distant sense of loss, too, though he could not imagine of what.
It's nice to see how this ties in with stories of male channelers trying to use the stedding to avoid saidin. Presumably they too initially felt mostly the refreshment, and only after days or weeks of its absence did the loss stop being dull and distant.
Loial scrambled down from his tall horse and bowed hastily. Rand and the others did the same, if not so quickly as Loial; even Verin inclined her head. Loial gave their names formally, but he did not mention the name of his stedding.
Not much of a meet-cute, but Rand's not hyper observant and anyway maybe Ogier have a lot of social cues that humans don't really share.
Mat snickered, but when Loial looked at him questioningly, he said, “Very pretty, Loial. A little tall for my taste, you understand, but very pretty, I’m sure.”
Mat's a bit of a jerk but you can see here that he does feel close to Loial from all the time they spent together in Fal Dara.
“I will know it when it comes.” Loial laughed. “It will be long before it is strong enough to cause harm to me. Why, Dalar spent ten years among the Sea Folk without ever seeing a stedding, and she came safely home.”
One wonders if there are any stedding out amid the Isles, or if there are any deep beneath the sea. Are there places the Sea Folk won't sail for fear of losing the Power? Did the Pattern ensure the ocean currents don't take them that way, so they sail around without ever knowing? Or did the flooding permanently destroy those stedding and the sea is always just the sea?
“How could I not be friends with somebody who dices so badly?” He threw up his hands when Rand and Perrin looked at him. “Oh, all right. I like you, Loial. You’re my friend. Just don’t go on about. . . . Aaah! Sometimes you’re as bad to be around as Rand.”
Mat: Not quite a "no homo, bro" sort of dude, but very similar when you account for his hatred of the discussion of the main plot.
“We never cut down one of the Great Trees, not unless it dies, and they almost never do. Few survived the Breaking, but some of the largest were seedlings during the Age of Legends.”
This puts the Great Trees up there. There's some Great Basin and Patagonian trees that can live longer in real life (5,000 years), but our oldest sequoias fall a little short of such lifespans. Presumably these are at least partially of Ogier design and doomed to go extinct before the First Age again.
Rand was startled to see an Ogier apparently walking up out of the ground, out of one of the grassy, wildflower-covered mounds that lay scattered all among the trees here. Then he saw windows in the mounds, and an Ogier woman standing at one apparently rolling a piecrust, and realized he was looking at Ogier houses.
It's not a Hobbit ripoff, you guys! Settlers in the great plains lived that way a century before Tolkien came around. You could read about it in another popular fantasy series. It's specifically in the volume On the Banks of Plum Creek from the Little House libertarian children's propaganda, or you could engage with literally anything else, ideally not written by one of Ayn Rand's besties.
The youngest one shouted, “Shienarans!” and turned to set the bowl carefully behind her. The other two quickly lifted brown cloths from around their shoulders, wrapping them around their heads instead. The older women were raising black veils across their faces, hiding everything but their eyes, and the youngest straightened to imitate them.
They were gonna kill these people and they're not even on their home turf. Jumpy much, maidens?
“Are you two crazy?” Mat demanded. His bow still slanted across his back. “I don’t care if they are Aiel, they’re women.”
Thanks Mat, for the sheer amount of psychic damage this dialogue is going to be causing your friends going forward.
Nervously, he sought the void, and it came. And the distant thought floated outside it that it was only the void. The glow of saidin was not there. The emptiness was more empty than he ever remembered, vaster, like a hunger great enough to consume him. A hunger for more; there was supposed to be something more.
Really, it's a miracle that channelers with experience can spend any time here, let alone the AoL-trained ones. The reflexive use of the Oneness would drive any channeler crazy in these parts.
The Aiel might have unveiled their faces, but they still had spears in their hands, and they studied the four men as though trying to see inside them. Rand in particular received increasingly angry looks. He heard the youngest woman mutter, “He is wearing a sword,” in tones of mingled horror and contempt.
Do they think Rand's a defector, I wonder? Surely there aren't any among the Aiel, not really. They might have thought him HWCWtD except for the whole sword thing, obviously.
“We have two Treesingers in Stedding Tsofu. They are rare, now. I have heard that Stedding Shangtai has a young Treesinger who is very talented, but we have two.” Loial blushed, but she did not appear to notice.
Will Treesinging get a Fourth Age resurgence, or is it actually doomed to be forgotten? Was Erith outright teasing Loial, or was her comment innocent?
They had severed the roots he had thought he had, the Aes Sedai and Tam between them, though Tam had been too sick to know what he was saying. They had cut him loose to tumble before the wind, then offered him something new to hold on to. False Dragon. Aiel. He could not claim those for roots. He would not.
Don't feel too bad, Rand. In a couple books your buddy Perrin's gonna be severing roots and not giving his victim anything in their place, and that's a lot worse. Of course at about the same time you'll also be causing a cultural breakdown by taking everyone's roots away and a good fraction of them actually will reject your offered replacement and end up just as bad.
Lord Rand, I don’t think there’s ever been any killing here. Not even any hurting, except by accident.
Earlier I wondered if flooding would destroy stedding and now I raise the question of how much bloodshed would cause it. Perrin didn't destroy the stedding they were in, or at least if he did we never heard of it, but would a massacre ruin the stedding? Or does the stedding overcome the scents Hurin can sniff such that these Ogier could be routinely slaughtering millions of people a day and he'd never know?
If a girl sees a boy she likes, she goes to her mother. Or sometimes the mother sees someone she thinks is suitable. In any case, if they agree, the girl’s mother goes to the boy’s mother, and the next thing the boy knows, his marriage is all arranged.
Frankly it seems to me like all this system does is select for Ogier men who are even less likely to be interested in marriage than their Forebears, but I suppose the Ogier way of life will have to collapse sooner or later so perhaps the ladies are just inadvertently speeding things along.
Rand frowned, remembering how Egwene had begun following him around when they were both little.
The difference is Rand, if you hadn't been interested, you wouldn't have been forced into it. Heck, Egwene probably wouldn't have been half so interested if you weren't receptive.
“Stay and get married, or travel the Ways.”
I don't have any commentary on this, I just enjoy this line. It's a fun way to end a chapter.
Next time: More windy waygates!
3 notes · View notes
myshredda · 1 year
Note
Tumblr media
There's three of them! and i said i wasn't going to get invested in this but now i am so here are some headcanons:
pink kills the bugs when it's just the three of them. she's brave like that
yellow and pink have ratty hair; it's always a mess. green doesn't know why it's so hard to brush ur hair everyday and is generally confused why they don't
pink wants hair like Ariel form the little mermaid tho, all poofy and floaty. sometimes she tries but she doesn't take good enough care of it bc there's just so much. despite what green says, it takes longer than five minutes to style her hair lol
several brushes have been stuck/broken while trying to detangle her hair so the adults have kind've given up on it
occasionally red or duck will try to preen her but they give up after ten minutes like "yeah, that's as good as that's ever going to get"
idk if you've seen wwdits but pink is like baby colin robinson, just hammering holes in the wall as soon as no one's watching
red and duck went on a really quick tesco run once and thought they would be fast enough to leave the kids at home and... they were wrong. she had knocked a good chunk of the living room wall out and cheerily explained that she was building her own room bc she was tired of living w "smelly boys"
red tried to stay as calm as he could given the circumstances and explain why she can't just knock walls out (but internally he was screaming). Duck just went ballistic
yellow and green got in trouble too bc they knew what she was doing and didn't try to stop her at all. their reasoning was they didn't want to share a room with her either, she snored too loud
ofc it was all ok in the end, but that was not a good day for anybody
in my mind, pink is like marie from the aristocats, "Ladies don't start fights but they can finish them!" or Mouthface from the trail to oregon musical, "I get a turn with the gun first! I have bloodlust *does cute little pose*".
she favors red just bc he was so nice to her at the beginning but she does have duck's violent streak
shes the only one that has teeth besides red so her bites hurt
she has a hard time differentiating between the types of love, romantic, platonic, and familial, and misreads social cues a lot bc of it. she's getting better but at the beginning it was really bad
she would mistake basic kindness/familial love for romantic love and then get really upset when it turned out just bc duck made her favorite food or yellow shared his toys doesn't mean they want to marry her
it took a long time for her to find value in herself outside of her relationships w others
her and yellow are the chaos crew. they're the kids that will put a big ugly toad on the kitchen table and beg to keep it as a pet. green swears up and down that he told them it was a bad idea but really he was just as excited as them
also ducks delighted to have another person to feed. he gets to cook more, make more types of food, and get the satisfaction of watching them fill out to a healthier shape
it is very hilarious to me that you started out that first ask with 'idk if i'll get very deep into this' and my response was 'oh you might not, but I certainly fucking will' and then my life spiraled out of control forever <3 Thank you for giving me the opportunity to go on a 1.2k rant about a literal one off character and give her trauma and then attempt to heal said trauma I made up for her <3 <3 <3 Love all the bits about her hair being messy because she's 100% forget to brush it now because she has STUFF TO DO and NATURE TO EXPLORE and FORTS TO BUILD and brushing her hair is boring and she doesn't want to do that 💗I think Duck would take preening her as a personal challenge and on nights where she's really sleepy and lazy and just wants to watch TV she'll let him work at it for a while and he's having the time of his life while working at her rats nest because grooming the people he loves is his biggest love language.
Yes to her knocking holes in the wall (I'm vaguely aware of baby Colin from wwdits ((I think him and Nadja's soul that's trapped in a doll are friends which is cute!))) Yes to her attempting to build a new room and knocking out half a fucking wall, yes to Red trying to gentle parent while Duck's just making a high-pitched noise of absolute horror in the background (which Pink fully ignores) Green and Yellow are like doing the innocent BUT WE DIDN'T DO ANYTHING routine but Duck is NOT having it (they've lived with them enough to know better by now!) and it's kind of sucky but it's really a good opportunity for Red and Duck to enforce rules and boundaries in a healthy way that the kid's aren't used to bc 'punishment' for them in their past was violent and traumatic.
Love the idea of Pink and Red bonding bc they have teeth. Duck's like I HAVE TEETH SOMETIMES (which he did! when he was having his organs removed!) and bonds with Pink over biting people because they both like to do that 💗
Yeah at first she has a REALLY hard time with love bc in the cult there was only ONE type of love and everything fell under that umbrella (not that it was real love obviously) and Red and Duck have to explain to her over and over that No she doesn't have to marry them for them to love her and it upsets her a little because she feels like she's doing something bad bc experiencing love outside of marriage is a big no-no in Shrignold's eyes (as he told Yellow when he introduced Pink as special one in the first place!) so it's a really long process of them being gentle with her and her being uncomfortable with it but eventually they get there.
Her and Yellow have ZERO control of their impulses for different reasons but they band together and make messes wherever they go and Green watches in amusement because he thinks its good scientific research to watch them go fucking ham
Speaking of ham Duck is like fully gone Barefoot Contessa and just COOKS and cooks and cooks and makes way too much food and pushes leftovers and helps Pink realize that she doesn't have to be skinny to be feminine and she can eat whatever she feels like and doesn't have to eat less than the boys just because she's a girl and she doesn't have to help cook because she's a girl but because it's a good life-skill that everyone should know how to do and she doesn't have to help cook for the others if she doesn't want to
15 notes · View notes
Note
After Lloyd had his turn golfing and Bee thought "Right, but isn't he supposed to get it in? Why is this taking so long?"
I WAS SCREAMING- Bee, Lloyd is asking himself the exact same thing, just not with golfing.
God, I loved the new chapter so much. Bailey the Bunny reigns supreme and if Lloyd dares break her bouncy little bunny pen I'll break him in turn.
When Court helped Bee with holding the club correctly and Lloyd was growling while Nick cackled I was having the time of my life. Especially because Bee's thought was that she didn't get the joke. If I were her in that situation I wouldn't either, but as an onlooker of sorts it's so clear...
She was so frigging precious when she got that hole in one and started bouncing around. I love her with all my heart!
Meanwhile Lloyd got a look at her smiley panties, hence his less than enthusiastic response. Because on the one hand he was drooling at what he saw, but then there's the disappointment of her - to me - amazing choice of underwear. I can just hear him think "Are you fucking serious, Bumblebee. God fucking shit hell!"
Also, I gotta say this. Bee is the first Reader character that I can actually deeply relate to. Not only is she plus size, but she's most definitely neurodivergent. I got ADHD and lemme tell you, she exhibits so many symptoms of it. Getting distracted and buying the bunny pen, being impatient over having to watch other people do stuff you're not interested or involved in, fidgeting, wandering thoughts, overthinking, being worried over how her behavior only seems to annoy Lloyd and hence trying to suppress aka mask her ADHD behavior...
Like, girl. She's such a mood. And people might think she's an airhead or stupid, but neurodivergent people often take longer to understand things, catch social cues (like Lloyd's constant innuendos) speak up or process what's being said (auditory processing disorder is a big ADHD thing). Bee is my gal and I wanna hug her so bad. She's too pure and nice for asshat Lloyd.
Lmaooooo you right. Lloyd definitely was thinking the same question in a totally different context.
Lloyd better keep his hands of the bunny pen. He will die.
It's such an awkward situation and then her getting the shot so easy without even trying that hard. Imagine how butthurt Lloyd would be had she missed by a long ways and the men were still praising her like that was so good lmao.
Lloyd is definitely want no panties or sexier panties.
I definitely share a lot of traits with Bee in terms of my overthinking and sometimes missing certain social nuances but I lean more towards sheer anxiety and overthinking, whereas she's a little less heavy about it. I'm glad you can relate to her. Trying to act normal around judgy judgersons is alway the worst.
I love her but unfortunately she will be exposed to a little bit of overstim and auditory dissonance because he's a big baby.
13 notes · View notes
darlingducklett · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
| BASIC INFO |
Name: Darla Hart
Nickname/s: Ducky
Age: 21
Gender: Female
Pronouns: She/Her
| GENERAL |
Hometown: Starlight Marina
Relationship status: Single
Personality:
➕Gentle
Ducky is very well meaning and always does her best to avoid conflict and fighting wherever possible, preferring to try and befriend pokemon instead of always jumping into battle. Although even this doesn't always work out she tries to be gentle
➕Patient
Ducky has always been a very patient person and owes a lot of this to her long hours of Ballet practice growing up. As well as having very... busy parents. She knows sometimes you need to just listen instead of speaking up. She can wait.
➕Encouraging
Ducky loves to give her friends positive reinforcement to encourage their ideas and enjoy their journey. When spending time around Pokemon she always tries to get them to have fun! They deserve the same encouragement after all.
➖ Anxious
It takes a lot of psyching herself up to be able to talk to other people, especially strangers. Ducky has always been able to perform just fine as her dancing has never required her to mutter a word. Unfortunately her journey has brought her anxiety to front and center.
➖Socially Awkward
Do you ever get muddled up and embarrassed over little things? Ducky certainly does.
Missing social cues or just misunderstanding the entire situation she has often come across as rather silly or even stuck up.
➖Emotional
Ekans doesn't have arms. Why is she so upset about this? Although most of the time her emotions tend to feel very on point with the situation Ducky has found that she finds herself tearing up far more often then she would like.
| BADGES |
None yet!
| ACHIEVEMENTS |
None yet!
| HISTORY | Growing up an only child can be wonderful but it can also be rather lonely. Ducky had it pretty good all things considered, a loving mother and father who bred and raised Swanna for contests. Upon her 10th birthday she was gifted a Ducklett by her father whom wasn't good enough for contests as he was a runt, and they became as thick as thieves for a very long time. Until she started taking Ballet lessons and spent more and more time away from her best friend.
She made new friends with her fellow Ballerinas and was showing promise in her career things went fowl, as she was dropped on stage and broke her ankle. Rekindling her friendship with her Ducklett after recovering she brought him to practice where he amusingly started to try to dance too!
Unfortunately nowadays her friend is long gone. Her parents told her he went to... a farm far away. She wasn't stupid and she knew what that meant.
Ducky kept the nickname her friends had given her and uses it instead of her birthname now. Her parents no longer around she is doing her best to finally live her own life.
| POKEMON |
Boadicea *Albino Ekans* (www.deviantart.com/scorchedpoe…)
| UPDATES |
Please keep a log here of any important updates, ensuring they link back to the relevant comment! For example, obtaining your mega ring, Z-ring and anything else you think should be logged!
| BATTLE LOG |
None yet!
| TRIVIA |
Hobbies:
Ducky often goes out to feed wild bird pokemon, visiting the harbor often to try and spot her favourite pokemon- though usually only seeing the odd pair of swanna. Ocassionally she is pleased to spot a Ducklett!
Of course she still dances often and is an accomplished Ballerina, although she now wants to branch out more into training pokemon.
She loves when contests come around as she goes and watches each and every one with longing.
Likes:
Watching the sunset, Feeding wild bird Pokemon, Matcha Mint Icecream!
Dislikes:
Heavy smoke, Being trapped in small spaces, Mondays.
Anything quirky about them?
Ducky will not respond to her birthname Darla and has done a lot to distance herself from her family name as well. Only seeming to like being called just Ducky.
"Everything happens for a reason, at least i like to think so.. it helps me get out of bed each morning to think so."
2 notes · View notes
containatrocity · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
THE TECHNOPHILE: CYAN CANNE
You can be all I got, what's the difference? You and me and a lot of bad decisions.
"I'm Silas Canne, though most everyone just calls me Cyan or Cy. I'm 27 years old, and I'm an entertainment broker and tech repairman here in Huntsville. My van broke down outside of town in 2021, and I've been here ever since, which means technically, I'm just visiting. The townspeople and the commune seem largely distrusting of me, which I suppose I can understand. I do not hunt, I do not gather, and in order to survive, I've learned to trade in hobbies and comfort- little reminders of a world larger than Huntsville, and the suffering it's wrought. My vice of choice was once heroin, though I'm a year clean, and it's found itself replaced with self destructive tendencies."
Name: Silas Neon "Cyan" Chiyoda
Aliases: Cy, Cyan, Neo, Day-Glo (A nickname given by an ex.), Tin Can, Robotboy (given by Duck Romero), Cyan Canne (Canne in itself is an alias- his last name is Chiyoda.)
Age: 27 (October 28th) [Scorpio]
Sexuality/Gender: Bisexual Cis Male [He/Him]
Personality: Silas can come off as a bit of a stick in the mud, difficulty understanding social cues and the way others communicate often makes him seem out of touch or alien, but after 26 years of being 'other' he's more than worked out how to better communicate- even if it means requesting elaboration more than once. Quick witted, sarcastic, and capable with technology more than people, Cy's draw to others is confusing for him, though he's well aware he's attractive, he doesn't think his personality is endearing enough to make anyone tolerate him in the long-term. While he's not opposed to a little drink, dancing, and self destruction tangled in the sheets alongside a stranger, he doesn't often bother getting to know people beyond a working or completely physical relationship, exceptions to this seemingly made for the people willing to take him in to live in their homes. He's not particularly trusted, and he accepts this fact- he's an outsider, after all, and his talents with technology and surveillance- having helped several people up their home security with a slapdashed collection of tech- makes his presence... troubling, for some.
Occupation: Entertainment Dealer and Technology Repair Man, His tendency to be a digital media hoarder when he lived outside of Huntsville has left him in possession of hundreds of large capacity drives with movies, games, tv, music, and books preserved on them, and he rents these out to the townspeople in exchange for their goods, services, and food- he also does general repair on the failing tech around town, though it's slapping a bandaid on a gaping wound, at this point for some of the systems, and he's started trying to set up replacements.
Affiliations: The town of Huntsville
Scent Profile: Something sharp, spicy, and expensive, Cyan's smelled like the same designer cologne since he arrived in Huntsville. There's notes of pomegranates and wine, orchids alongside the cedarwood and spice that clouds him. It's cut through now with the smell of sweat and electronic smoke, a biting, chemical scent that overpowers all else, sometimes.
Aesthetic: Digital interference, thousands of wires coiling and alive, tentacles of information sprawling from one central point and winding tight around their prey, holding hostages in the lines of code. A half finished bottle of hennesy and track marks hidden under dark tattoo ink, a history of violence marked in scars and bruises, but these wounds are old and healed. Who he was is who he isn't any longer. A new beginning surrounded by the ever-present threat of death.
Bitter ends to the nights- I'm along for the ride. Out of breath, out of time Everything has a price.
CHAPTER ONE: LIFE IN HUNTSVILLE AFTER ARRIVAL.
Upon his van's breakdown- and the subsequent briefing from the gruff old game warden about his continued survival in a town like Huntsville, Cy took the information... poorly. He'd insisted everyone in town was crazy- at least, until the ghosts turned up and nearly tore him to pieces. Made a believer only through threat of death, it's a reluctant presence that Cy holds in town, but one that's colored with pity for those around him. He was quick to set up his broker system, offering rentals to the people of town for drives and computers capable of reading the content held within so they could embrace the things they'd missed in nearly 10 years contained in the paradox.
He similarly works to repair and upgrade the things he can help with through salvaged parts and the things visitors tend to bring through to keep them as modern as he can manage, keeping phones running and stocked with media, ipods functional and intact, and distributing the repaired tablets, laptops and phones he'd had with him to those who needed them, upon his arrival. It's his own personal system he favors, a self-built PC set up in the house he stays in that makes up the largest part of his time, making maps, time tables, and surveillance sets for the people of Huntsville- his compulsion to know and understand making him ignore that which he has no answers for- the ghosts- and focus entirely on the human element, though this often leads to him saying things he shouldn't know about people directly to their faces.
2 notes · View notes
pr0cyon-lotor · 14 days
Text
Chat. We got a little silly with this one 🤭
Sometimes I think about how many people don't like me because of autistic traits I have
These people that actively hate me irl because I seem really apathetic or I don't fluctuate my tone when speaking... They're the same people that claim that they want autistic friends or that they care so much for autism awareness or claim to have autism themselves
I try and try but I'm still seen as rude. I try to accommodate at the sacrifice of my own comfort and it's not enough. I try to sweeten my tone and I'm called fake. I try to take up interests of others and they drop it because they don't like me
I'm tired. But I hate being rude. I'm not a people pleaser, I just want the people close to my friends to like me. I'm scared my friends will leave me if enough people complain about my "bad attitude" or how rude I was because I didn't pick up a social cue
I get overwhelmed easily but I don't want to have a meltdown because people are willing to jump on it and call it a tantrum.
I know people don't like me. I hear them talking about me to their other friends. And I know some try to convince my friends to leave me. It's unfair of me to get upset and whine to my friends that I don't want them near me because they're their friends.
I don't want my friends to leave me. I don't want them to turn their backs on me. I don't know how to make new friends. It's so hard. And I love my online friends but I don't want to be stuck on a screen all day. I hate sitting still. I love talking face to face with people
I just don't know what to do. Some of the people that hate me are close friends of my friends or family. I don't want to be controlling and give them an ultimatum. I hate ultimatums. I don't want to be that guy.
I just want them away from me. I just to have time with only my friends alone and then they can spend time with everyone else. But I feel selfish wanting that. Their friends are allowed to be around, I don't know why I'm so whiny
Maybe my mom was right when she called me needy and clingy. I don't want to be whiny and clingy. But I don't want to let go. What if my friends leave because they think I'm ignoring them?
I don't want to ignore them. But I don't want to be overbearing. I'm so confused and I don't know what to do about it. I feel so stupid for venting. I want to tell them but I'm scared of pressuring them into anything.
My friends knew these people longer than me. They grew up with them. I only started talking to them in middle school. They knew all these people since they were in diapers. And I'm just someone they met not too long ago. I'm not that important.
And that's why I'm here. Venting to anonymous online people instead of telling my friends of my insecurities. I hate that my household taught me emotions are weak. It's so hard to break that train of thought.
What if I'm annoying because I cry? I don't want to be annoying. I don't want to take up too much space. I don't want to become a burden. They already have so much to deal with. They don't have to deal with my emotional state.
But I know this isn't healthy. I want to tell them. But I don't know how.
Maybe I'll send them this stupid vent. I can't run away forever. Mildly dissociating to avoid confronting my emotions isn't healthy. But I want to run away so bad, but I'm so stubborn.
Maybe I'll just send them this and turn off my phone. At least I'm not running that far. I can read what they say in the morning or they can tell me when they see me.
I just want to hide for a while
1 note · View note
dearestones · 1 year
Text
Marble Hornets Matchup: Jay Merrick
Warnings: Fluff. 
Anonymous Request: so i saw you do matchups, and marble hornets is on your fandom list, so i’d like to ask for a romantic, Marble Hornets matchup! (idm gender for the matchup)
My name is Mar. I have brown hair thats a little longer than my shoulders, along with bangs and hazel eyes. Hobby wise, I’m not really sure; i suppose i like to draw and ice skate. My interests change alot because my brain cant ever focus on one thing, but currently I’m really into The Legend of Zelda Botw, Marble Hornets and The Last of Us!
My best traits are that i listen when people need me to, i try to make people laugh when i can, i try to talk to people even if I'm scared of messing up and I’m not sure what else 😅 My worst traits are that i can be very closed off when upset, I'm really sensitive, and sometimes i over explain things to make sense. sorry if this is too long.
Tumblr media
.
.
.
After going through the description provided, I believe that you best pair well with Jay Merrick!
At first glance, Jay is actually apprehensive when meeting you. He’s shy in his own way, perhaps one might even call him adorkable, but he thinks you’re really pretty. Yet, it’s not just your looks that has him entranced. 
You see, Jay is an awkward person at heart and he tends to ramble when he’s nervous. It’s rare for him to find a person who will listen to what he has to say and take him seriously. There are times when his sarcasm and quick wit get the better of him, but he truly does mean well when he gets the courage to tease you. 
Please make him laugh. Life is hard and Jay has a lot on his plate for him to think about the simple things in life that make him happy. If you see that he’s feeling down or looking more closed off than usual, give him a reason to smile again. Even if your attempts don’t land, he’ll muster a smile and you can see that he isn’t as burdened as he was.
Furthermore, Jay admires your tenacity in talking to other people. He doesn’t have social anxiety, per se, but he does have a terrible track record talking to people at times. It’s hard for him to pick up on social cues so he doesn’t go out of his way to talk to people, but watching you do it sort of amazes him. It fills him with a sense of pride that you have confidence in yourself despite there being a chance where you may not succeed.
Over explain away! That’s basically Jay’s love language. Talk to him about your hobbies and interests, your insights, and feelings. The worst thing that you can do to Jay is close off parts of yourself even when he truly wants to know you better. 
And speaking of closing yourself off, Jay will give you space, but please tell him if he did anything wrong. One of the best ways to maintain a relationship is to remain open about your feelings, your thoughts and desires, and definitely, what makes you tick. Your space is important, and he gets that, but he also wants to make sure that whatever hurts you or sets you off, will either never happen or won’t occur as frequently. 
Overall, you’re a pretty good match for Jay! The both of you can balance each other out and you’ll probably experience a good, if a bit adorkable, relationship with him!
.
.
.
If you want to donate a Ko-Fi, feel free https://ko-fi.com/devintrinidad.
MARBLE HORNETS MASTERLIST
0 notes
kentucky-daisey · 4 years
Text
Socializing Post-Isolation with Neurodivergence
I’m a little worried about when everyone starts returning to work or we’re allowed to really interact in person again. We’ve spent so long hunkered down in our houses and apartments alone, I feel it might take a little bit to remember how to socialize in a normal healthy way. And it’s going to be exhausting! 
Maybe this is neurodivergent me, who has spent years really perfecting how to properly socialize, worrying but I’m so scared that I’ll be around people and I’m going to be too much because I’ve forgotten how to properly interact without being too in my own head or too obsessive about things or just too intense. Like, it took years of self monitoring to get to a place where I felt I was socializing in a normal people way. What if I’ve lost that?
Going back to square one would be so hard. It would be so disappointing. All that effort, all that time making “normal people behaviours” habit and developing a better understanding of social cues will have felt like a waste. I’m so worried people won’t want to talk to me or be around me anymore.
There’s going to be a real adjustment period, I think, where I’m going to really have to remind myself that I am okay the way I am and that other people are also adjusting and dealing with their own things. It’s just going to be hard.
11 notes · View notes