#i just love her and thinks she deserves to experience that love

[paperultra]

HOME (TO THE OL’ BALL AND CHAIN)

(OR, THE PIÑA COLADA SONG)

Pairing: Chilchuck Tims x Fem!Chilchuck's Wife!Reader Word Count: 2,499 words Warnings: None Summary: Five years after leaving your first and only love, you take the plunge into the dating scene – and immediately regret it. Maybe you're too picky, but none of the men you go out with seem to fit the bill; they're too non-committal, or too eager, or too happy, or too sad, or simply just too much ... so after a particularly bad experience, your youngest makes a last-ditch effort to set you up on a blind date with someone who she insists deserves a chance. You reluctantly agree. read on ao3 | read on quotev

DATE #1: CASUAL LUNCH Estranged husband — 1 Estranged wife — 1 Everything left unsaid — as desired

There’s bacon grease on his shirt.

You can see it underneath his collar, round fingerprints staining the pale linen grey, and when he leans across the threshold into Fler’s home all you can think about is laundry day at the end of the week.

It would be rude to admit that out loud, though.

“Thank you for walking me home,” you say.

“When can I see you again?”

“I don’t know.”

Abelwood teeters forward still. “Well, don’t take too long, hear? You ain’t gettin’ any younger.”

Laughter erupts from the beer in his gut, and you laugh along with him. Abelwood is a rowdy drunk, you’ve learned, which is better than a cruel drunk or a lecherous drunk. It is not the kind of drunk that you are used to bringing home, even if he is only brought to the front door, but –

You smile, regardless.

“Goodnight,” you bid, closing the door inch by inch, your last bit of energy disappearing with the click of the lock.

You hold your breath. It takes three minutes and thirty-seven seconds for the man to leave your front doorstep, and you wait thirty more seconds after that to peek through the window, verifying that he is far enough away before resting your forehead against the door with a groan.

“Oh, boy.”

“I’m too old for this, Fler,” you mutter into the wood. “He was awful.”

Flertom lets out a sigh and closes the distance to squeeze you in a hug, pressing her cheek against your back like she’s done ever since she grew tall enough to do so. “I’m sorry, Mama,” she says.

“I’m sorry too.”

As you pat her hands and turn around to smile wryly at her, Puckpatti pipes up from the middle of the living room.

“He was a pig,” she exclaims. “Calling you by your first name! And he wasn’t even that handsome!”

“Looks aren’t everything, Puck,” you reply sharply, and she pouts, squeezing the lump of clay in her hands until it squishes out between her fingers. “He was a pig for the way he acted.”

“Well … that too.”

“He also smelled like one,” Fler says.

You detach yourself from your daughter to loosen the belt at your waist, frowning down at your dress and nice leather shoes. The dress feels just about as worn out as you do, the fabric soft and droopy from the humidity, the sunshine-yellow color less vibrant than it had been earlier this evening. The man had spilled beer on the floor of the bar and your shoes still look slightly sticky. Peeling them off just reminds you of the way he had laughed.

“Fler,” you say, “get me a wet rag, would you?”

“Sure, Mama.” Flertom turns to Puckpatti. “Puck, get a wet rag.”

“My hands are all dirty!” your youngest protests, showing her grey palms. “Mei’s closer to the water bucket.” She points to Meijack, who you now notice lingering by the kitchen.

Meijack blinks slowly, then silently fetches a rag, wets it, and brings it to you.

“Are you gonna keep trying, Ma?” she asks while you scrub the heel of your left shoe. “All these guys seem to be wasting your time.”

The chuckle that leaves your mouth is short and dry. “After this one, I don’t think so.” You glance up at your daughters and smile, straightening. “Maybe I should just take you all out on a girls’ date next time, huh? Forget about men for a little while.”

Meijack shrugs. Puckpatti nods eagerly.

“I just don’t know what’s wrong,” Flertom frets. “I’ve seen most of them at work before, and they seemed nice enough even when they were drunk …”

You shrug hopelessly and cross into the living room to sit on the couch. “Maybe it’s me.” As you lean back into the cushions, Meijack and Flertom join you on either side. “I’ve only ever been with one man my whole life. Maybe I don’t even know what I want …”

There’s a moment of silence. You look up at the ceiling of Flertom’s home, rubbing your temples and willing your frustration with yourself to not spill over while your daughters are watching. How embarrassing. Here you are, their mother, who is supposed to show them an example of a happy relationship, only for them to comfort you after another failed date. It should be the other way around. Half-foots don’t live long enough for things like this; your own mother had told you when you first left him that you should’ve just sucked it up.

Finally, Flertom speaks up. “Mama,” she starts, hesitant, and you look over to see her playing with her fingers, “Do you really want to date someone?”

“It’s been long enough, don’t you think?” you answer.

As you say so, a name resurfaces in your mind, unbidden, and the face that belongs to it. Your jaw tightens and you look down at your hands.

“Well … um … Papa wrote last week, and he said that he wanted to talk to you sometime. Just a little bit.”

Your tone hardens. “And what does that have to do with me dating, Fler?”

She flinches and her lips push out. “Come on, Mama! It’s been years, and after everything he went through, I really think he’s better now! Don’t you at least want to talk to him? You were so in love with each other before he started adventuring, and now that he’s retired from it …”

You hold your hand up, and her jaw clicks shut.

“I know what you’re getting at, Flertom,” you say quietly. “And right now is not the best time to bring up your father.”

Your daughter deflates, her cheeks rosy. “But –”

“I mean it.” Standing, you heave a deep breath and examine the cluttered workstation that Puckpatti had set up on the living room table. “Puckpatti, make sure to clean up after you’re done. I’m going to bed.”

While the girls mope, you head to your bedroom, doing your best to occupy your thoughts with work at the blacksmith’s tomorrow. You think about the chain mail you’re supposed to be making, the little metal rings to form and weave together, and hope they’re what you dream of, not self-absorbed dates or unwanted kisses.

You blame Flertom for the auburn hair and hearty laughs that plague your night instead.

—

A week later, Puckpatti accosts you as soon as you walk through the door.

“Mama, I found a man for you!”

“Oh?” you reply blandly, hand still clutching at your chest from having the living daylights scared out of it. “Who is it?”

“That’s a secret! But he’s really nice, I promise.”

Sighing, you remove your vest. “I don’t know, Puck. How did you meet him?”

“He bought one of my clay sticks.” You can’t stop yourself from frowning, despite your desire to support your daughter’s entrepreneurial spirit, and she giggles. “Oh, please, Mama, he didn’t believe my pitch. I think I just charmed him into buying it. He seems really clever!”

“Are you sure he wasn’t interested in you?”

She makes a disgusted face. “Eww! No, I told him about you and he seemed interested.”

“Oh, really?”

“Mama, you’re a catch. Of course he’d want to go on a date with you.”

“That’s sweet of you to say, honey.” You glance at her before heading to the kitchen to put away the bread and cheese you’d bought. “Is he a half-foot?”

“Maybe.”

“I thought I’d met all the half-foots in Kahka Brud.”

“Maybe he just moved here.”

She looks up innocently when you raise an eyebrow at her. “And you’re sure I’ll like him,” you drawl, more suspicious by the minute. (Of what, you’re not quite sure.)

“Positive.”

It is incredibly difficult, you think with equal parts pride and concern, to say no to your youngest daughter. It’s probably why you worry about her the most. “This is the last date I’ll go on, Puckpatti. It will be on you.”

Puckpatti cheers. She hugs you as you chuckle at her enthusiasm, jumping up and down. “Yay! I’ll get a time and day that’ll work best. It’ll be great! You’ll love him!”

“For your sake, I hope so.”

—

The day arrives with a mellow sun and clear sky.

You wear your green dress with the floral details, and Puckpatti picks a necklace to go along with it, a thin, simple one that you haven’t worn in years. Flertom does your makeup and Meijack does your hair.

And as you sit in a corner of the tavern fifteen minutes early, hands nervously clasped in your lap, you wonder, just as you have with every date prior, what you’ve gotten yourself into.

Maybe he won’t show up. It would be improper, and juvenile, but then you could go home and say that you did try. Your desire for a new romance has all but dwindled completely, and as you trace the scratches on the wooden table, you wonder if it was even a desire at all.

Footsteps approach from behind. You can tell they belong to a half-foot by the weight and sound – light and small – as they come around to the other side of the table. Your shoulders tighten. Forcing a smile, you look up.

Your heart promptly surges upward into your throat before plummeting to your toes.

Chilchuck gawks down at you, eyes wide. His mouth parts to utter your full name, and you feel your lungs squeeze at how it sounds coming from him, soft from years of disuse.

“You came,” he says.

“Chil – Chilchuck.” His name is ashy and sweet behind your teeth. “What are you doing here?”

He furrows his brow. “What do you mean? The girls said that you were willing to meet up.”

“No, I’m meeting with one of Puck’s customers.”

“What? That doesn’t …” he trails off, and the two of you seem to realize the same thing at the same time.

You bury your head in your hand as Chilchuck grits his teeth.

Those scheming …

“I’m sorry they dragged you into this,” you mutter as you get up from your seat, your voice cold and flat. “I’ll be going now.”

His head snaps up. “Going? But –”

You hurry past him, dodging the hand that you know has reached out for your own.

Home is a ten-minute walk away. You can clear your head in that time, then scold your daughters for meddling, though it’s partially your fault for not questioning Puckpatti about your supposed date more thoroughly. You just didn’t think that they would try something like this.

(Or that Chilchuck would bother to go along with it.)

You pull the door open with some effort and rush out into a downpour of rain.

Your hair gets drenched before you backpedal with a yelp. Pressing against the wall underneath the awning, you look out helplessly at the soaked streets, their gutters already filling with water and debris flowing down the incline. Is … is that a drowning rat?

The storm’s earthiness floods your nose, late in its prediction by half an hour. Just your luck.

You fumble with the clasp of your necklace to remove it, not wanting to get it wet. While you struggle, the tavern door creaks open behind you.

“So you don’t even want to talk. Even after all these years, you’re going to walk away again.”

“Do you know why I walked away the first time?” The damn thing won’t unhook. You scowl, the presence at your back making your usually nimble fingers clumsy.

“No,” Chilchuck says. “I don’t. Not for certain.”

“That’s why.” With each failed attempt to separate the rings, your fingertips grow sorer, your throat thickening. He’s too close. You hate how he’s watching you fail such a simple task. “You stopped knowing, Chilchuck. That’s why.”

Underneath the sharp sound of rain, you can hear his breath hitch, then quiet.

You bite your lip and let your arms fall to your sides, giving up on trying to take your necklace off. Your chest aches. You don’t want to cry in front of him.

“So, there, we talked like you wanted.”

He stops you before you can step out into the rain.

“Wait. What … what about your necklace?” he asks hesitantly, like it’s not what he really wants to say, but merely a way to stall for time.

This time, you look over your shoulder at him. “I’ll dry it real well once I get home,” you reply.

Chilchuck’s mouth presses into a fine line. He grabs the cloak folded over the crook of his elbow, and it is then that you notice the bouquet of blue and pink flowers in his other hand. The ache in your chest flares into a raw, pulsing hurt.

“I’m guessing you’d rather not have me walk you.” He speaks evenly, holding his cloak out towards you. “It’s not completely waterproof, but keep this over your head, at least …” his voice quiets, “please.”

Wordlessly, you take the garment from him. The inner lining is warm against your skin.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you. “For not knowing.” His fist tightens around the flowers, and he stares at you resolutely. “I want to again, if you’ll let me.”

Ah.

You swallow. “I … I don’t know.”

“It doesn’t have to be today. I can wait.”

Breaking eye contact and looking down, Chilchuck roughs his fingers through his hair, mussing it up. The cut is the same as it’s always been, auburn bangs thick and soft over his brow. And you recognize the shirt he’s wearing, a practical, clean wool shirt that you made some years ago. He’s taken good care of it.

It’s all the same. All the same, and yet, something that you can’t quite identify has changed.

You bring his cloak closer to your chest and bite your bottom lip.

“… Give me a week.”

His entire body loses its tension.

“Really?” He looks at you like he can’t believe it, and you avert your gaze, ears warming and moving back the slightest bit.

“Give me a week to decide,” you clarify. “Fler or Mei will let you know … this is really abrupt, after all …”

Chilchuck nods. “That’s fine!” he exclaims. “You didn’t know, so I understand. A week is – a week’s good.”

You nod back, hesitant.

The rain continues its heavy downpour.

“Right … well …” you turn slightly, casting him one last glance, “I’ll give your cloak back, regardless. Don’t get sick.”

“Okay. Stay … stay safe.”

With that, you wrap yourself in the thick fabric, rushing out of the safety of the awning. The run back home smells of woodsmoke and thyme, and when you open the door to three guilty daughters and three apologies, it lingers.

You hang his cloak near the fireplace. It’s evidence of a weak resolve that you stay until it’s dry, and even more damning that you know your answer long before it is.

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dunmeshi #chilchuck tims x reader #chilchuk tims #chilchuck x reader #chilchuck #dungeon meshi fanfiction #reader insert #fem!reader #my emotional support middle-aged divorced father of three....... #throw this guy in a childhood friends to lovers to estranged lovers to lovers fic and see how he handles it #chilchuck's wife!reader let's gooooo

[violetasteracademic]

On Mate Behavior: Elriel (Part Two- Scent)

Another day of an SJM Instagram jump scare with more stories and no book accouncement (though I am HAPPILY celebrating indie bookstore day with you all!)- So it's another day to be on my Elriel shit. Will we still want posts like this once the announcement is out and we are done fighting for our lives? I feel like the announcement is coming soon so I need to sneak in all my thoughts!

In my previous analysis, I highlighted a moment that would have been perfect for Azriel to display some mate-like behavior towards Gwyn, and it was sorely lacking. You can catch up on that post here!

Today I would like to discuss another area lacking in mate behavior in the BC between Azriel and Gwyn, but present for... drumroll... Elriel. And that is scent.

Bringing back Nessian's bonus chapter to start the parallels, because I do think an additional bonus lends itself to the fairest basis for comparison (also if I used book examples from ToG to CC regarding romantic parings/mates and scent I'd be here for several hundred years):

Cassian is so lost in Nesta's scent that he had to stop himself from letting his eyes roll back into his head while breathing her in. This... sounds familiar:

Azriel's eyes also nearly rolled into the back of his head because of Elain's scent.

As previously mentioned, scent plays a huge role in mates/romantic pairings. I was chatting with my friend @faeprincesswarrior when I first started thinking about the scent thing, and she remembered that Rhys could smell Feyre's scent before they even met. He would wake up with her scent in his nose. Cassian and Azriel both can hardly control themselves when they take in the scents of Nesta and Elain.

Scent plays an important role in romantic pairings, and is honestly probably one of the things SJM lays on the thickest throughout the entirety of her multiverse and she has a tendency to drop it early on, often as an initial indicator. Yes, sometimes scenting is platonic, but Gwyn and Az don't even have that on page. There is simply no mention of scent in their portion of the chapter, but it is heavy in Elain's section.

*Crescent City 3 Spoiler* Even when Ithan is done with all his side quests and spends just a few moments with Perry, he's suddenly like mmm... strawberries and cinnamon. No other indicator of mate behavior there but MANY readers only needed that little nugget to be like- something's cooking here.

Again, in addition to Azriel's lack of response to directly recalling Gwyn's assault from his POV on page- something I would have liked to see to indicate feelings could be brewing there- there is also zero mention or indication that Azriel experiences Gwyn's scent at all. Even something small, like "a shift in her scent" at his arrival, or noticing a change in her scent from her flash of memory as well (as it happened between Nesta and Cassian.)

Azriel lost his mind over Elain's scent in their bonus chapter, just as Cassian lost his mind over Nesta's scent in theirs.

Azriel makes no mention of Gwyn's scent in the BC. It's as if to him, she doesn't even have one.

I want Azriel and Elain to be together because Azriel and Elain want to be together. They experience what romantic pairings experience together, and it is delicious.

I love Gwyn, which is why I think if she is going to have a romance in the future, she deserves more than a regifted necklace and a male who is drowning in the scent of another female's kitty and doesn't even notice what Gwyn smells like. This is really what we want for her?

Hoping for a book announcement soon. Do you guys like seeing Sarah post more? I have mixed feelings. Part of me thinks it is gearing up for an announcement which is exciting. Part of me also is tired of the jump scares and wants complete silence unless it is a book announcement. Judge me if you must!

#elriel #pro elriel #elain x azriel #elriel endgame

[knavesflames]

@alfiikae I have written it 😳 it is not the best because I got tired halfway through but decided I couldn’t not finish it. This is NOT my best work I don’t love this

This is very OOC for Arlecchino I think, but who cares? Not me

Sequel to the ask I received about childhood Arle and reader as friends!

Contents: crying, mention of self harm (not graphic, but mentioned and briefly talked about without naming it), just sadness

Word count: 3181

Under the cut!!

(Poor reader lmao, projecting all of my school experiences onto her 😓😓)

That day was stupid, you tell yourself. She hurt you, and you shouldn’t have let her back in. You still remember the humiliation of telling your mother that no, she couldn’t come for dinner because you were wrong, and she wasn’t your friend, and that the kids were right, you were weird and weird people deserve to be by themselves. You can still remember the pitying face your mother gave you as you shrunk off to your room to play with more rocks. The memory of you playing with those damn rocks fills your brain as you stare down at the textbook. Why are you so interested in rocks and stones? You don’t know, and part of you wishes you weren’t. You slam the book shut just as a knock on your door sounds out, and Arlecchino’s voice rings out.

“Are you here? You haven’t been answering my messages. I am confused.”

You try to stay silent because there’s no way in hell you want to answer the door right now. You’ve been avoiding her since that night, just like the way you’ve been avoiding everyone else. A vow made to yourself one day in freshman year of high school, avoid everyone like the plague.

“I can see your feet, can you please answer the door?”

A sigh, and your chair pushes back as you stand, walking reluctantly towards the door before you open it, poking your head out.

“What?”

“Can I come in?”

“I’m kind of busy.”

“You’ve been busy since-“

You cut her words short, your voice slightly distant, no trace of the warm child she once rejected.

“Yeah, well, I’m busy. Maybe another time, yeah?”

Your attempt to shut the door fails when her foot blocks the way, her face stern and her eyes dark with.. what is that? Worry? Guilt? Annoyance? You sigh, walking towards your desk again as you clutch the sleeves of your sweater to stop yourself from either crying in frustration or snapping at her.

“Why have you been ignoring me? We had sex, you can’t just ignore me like nothing happened.”

“You’re one to talk about being ignored, hm?”

“..touché. But the point stands.”

“Okay.”

Your head is in your textbook again as you try to grasp how to tell the age of rocks by the patterns inside. Your hand on your temple, attempting to block out the fact she’s stood right there, staring into you like she’s trying to analyse you.

“Damn it, what the hell is wrong? What is your problem?”

“You tell me.”

“I said and did one thing like ten years ago and you still haven’t let go of it! You have to move on. I’m trying to reconnect with you.”

“I’m a weirdo, remember? Why would I try to reconnect with someone who thinks I’m a weirdo? I’d rather hang out with my textbooks and rocks.”

Your voice is sharper than it usually is. You know from so many years of this that you have to toughen yourself up. You can’t let people treat you like this, you know that, but..

“That’s exactly the problem. All you care about is rocks, you never even tried to talk to people.”

Your head snaps around sharply in her direction, a glare on your once smiling face. Your tongue finds its way between your teeth as you take a breath. You can already feel the familiar stabbing pain in your chest.

“I have tried. You just didn’t care to pay attention. I care only about rocks because they’re the only things that won’t be horrible to me! Like you’re any better with your stupid insects.”

You hear a sharp breath being taken as her fists clench for a second. Your face is unreadable, but she can see you’re hurt. She feels guilty, but she’s so annoyed at the same time. She can’t figure you out the way she wants to, she can’t read you the way she can with other people. It’s like you’ve locked yourself away behind a wall that can’t be demolished.

“What the hell happened to you?”

“What? Are you asking me if I was dropped on the head as a baby?”

The words make Arlecchino stop. That was so specific, too specific to not have been said to you before. And your voice is so sharp, so distant. The guilt is beginning to form in a pit in her stomach, pulling her downwards into a sea of anger. Her eyes flick over you, noticing the thing she’s noticed constantly about you.

“No. I’m asking what happened. You were such a happy child and then one day you just weren’t. You were so social and then you stopped talking to anyone, and nobody said anything about it either.”

“Mhm.”

“And now you’re not you. I don’t like it.”

Your mind recalls everything. The day she ditched you seems like such a small thing, but it wasn’t. Not when you pair it with everything else that happened. It was just the icing on the cake. You still remember the feeling, what you turned to, the nights alone. Your vision blurs, but you blink rapidly, fighting the tears away. Arlecchino waits patiently, standing there as she stares at you, analysing your appearance, analysing everything she can about you like you’re one of her insects she plans to research. You’ve never spoken to anyone about this, and you never dreamed of doing it. Especially not to her. But the words beginning spilling out of your mouth in both anger and sorrow.

“Nobody liked me, so I changed. Being me was the wrong thing to do.”

“Wrong? No. People liked you.”

You scoff, raising an eyebrow in disbelief. You know that’s not true, people have told you that.

“Do not lie. Nobody liked me, and it isn’t like they made that painfully obvious.”

“What do you even mean by that? Is that why you..”

She gestures a hand to you, and you know what she means. It isn’t hard to know what she means. Your eyes narrow, and your tone becomes defensive.

“How do you-“

“I just know. I saw one time. You weren’t the best at hiding it, you know. And you didn’t take your sweater off when we had sex. It adds up.”

“Right.”

“You shouldn’t do that, you know. Why? What drove you to start with that? Because people didn’t like you?”

Your jaw tenses. You don’t even know what to say to that. Your hands clasp in front of you, bringing the sleeves of your sweater against your palms, an old childhood habit really, but you never really paid attention to it. You stare in silence for a while before your voice sounds out, quiet, almost sad.

“I don’t need a lecture.”

“Sorry.”

“You really don’t know?”

“No.”

“You don’t remember that the janitor had to lock the changing rooms after school hours because a girl got locked in there for the weekend?”

Arlecchino’s eyes widen for a second as she tries to recall that. She does, in fact, vaguely remember that someone was locked in the changing rooms for an entire weekend in freshman year, and was only found again on the Monday when they had gym class. She feels the pit in her stomach grow significantly.

“That was you?”

“Mhm.”

“What happened?”

“Do you even care?”

A pause, and then:

“I do.”

You begin explaining for the first time in your life, your voice thick and almost wavering. You stare straight ahead at the small amethyst geode next to your bed, refusing to make eye contact. And you explain everything, everything from first grade to now.

“People didn’t like me because they thought I was weird. They thought I was too interested in rocks and that they couldn’t talk to me because of that.”

“You are too interested in rocks.”

“You can go if you’re going to begin with that.”

“No, you’re right. Keep going.”

Your throat constricts. For some reason, all of your anger is towards her. In a sense, she was the catalyst for everything. Not that it’s inherently her fault, but you can’t get her words out of your head.

“I kept trying to make friends but it wasn’t working. They would always play with other girls, which was.. I don’t know, sad, but I could play with myself. Then they wanted to play with me all of a sudden, so we would play hide and seek. They would ask me to hide and they would find me, but they didn’t even try to find me. It was just a ploy to get me away from them. I didn’t get it. I remember thinking that I was a bit sad they never found me until I hid really close to them. I found out they weren’t actually trying to find me, they just talked about me. They called me weird for liking rocks and wanting to play with them.”

You pause, taking a shaky breath before you continue. Arlecchino’s stomach is completely filled with guilt now, because she can tell where this is going. She has the urge to reach out and grab your hand. To trace her fingers over your skin. She doesn’t.

“Then I met you. You tolerated me, at least. And I had never had a friend before. So I remember running home and talking about you to my mom. She was worried, you know. She knew I didn’t have any friends and she saw it made me sad. She was so excited for me and when we stayed friends for a bit— well, ‘friends’, she asked if you wanted to come for dinner. She said I could ask if you wanted to come. I was so happy and I had this whole idea that we were going to swing on the swings in the park and maybe go to the library you liked so much. It turns out you didn’t like me at all.”

Your fingers pick at your nails, and it’s clear that’s something you do often by the way your skin is red and peeling. It was the opposite of her not liking you. She did like you. So much so, that she realised that she was different from other people.

“Stop that.”

Her hand finally reaches over and grabs yours, stopping you from causing more damage to your skin. Her hand are a contrast from yours, her hands patterned and blackened, almost charred and long nails painted perfectly, with your hands being plain, blunt nails that are bitten down. Tears gather on your lashes now as you keep staring at the geode, one you got for your 15th birthday.

“I had to go home to my mom that day and see her excited face. I remember she asked me what you wanted to eat, what she should make and I.. damn it, it was so hard telling her you— yeah. Her face fell, she was so happy I had a friend, and now I didn’t. She asked if I was sad, I said no. I said I didn’t care. I said I knew I was weird anyway and the girls at school said weirdos can’t make friends so it all made sense. I heard her talking to my dad when she thought I was sleeping that night, she was so sad for me.”

“I didn’t mean for it to be so mean.”

“It doesn’t help now. That was just the start of everything.”

A singular tear finally drops from your eyelid, hitting your skin. Everything is running through your mind and it’s so overwhelming you can’t help but choke down a quiet sob. Arlecchino’s own eyes are tearing up, despite her best efforts to hide it. She feels like the guilt is eating her, that the shame of what she said is sucking her into a hole. Ashamed that she said and did all of those things only to fuck you years later like nothing happened. She doesn’t want to hear anymore. But she tells herself that she needs to.

“The other kids caught wind of what happened. “If the loner girl doesn’t want to be friends with her, why would anyone else?” I kept trying to join in conversations, I kept trying to make friends, but it never worked. I got weird looks and insults. I threw a party for my 15th birthday. I invited everyone. Even you. I think a part of me was desperate for someone to show up. I got everything ready at my house, I bought so much food and I had a cake. People said they were coming. They—“

Your words are cut off by a sob. This is the first time you’ve shown any type of emotion in front of someone in years, and you’re cursing yourself for it. And Arlecchino, she’s silent. She’s listening, and she’s so so sad for you. She knows it’s only getting worse because you haven’t even talked about the changing room incident yet.

“Nobody came. I went to bed at 1am after clearing everything away. The food sat in the fridge and I had to throw it away. I did something stupid that night. I wish I didn’t because it became a habit. But I was so sad. I didn’t understand why nobody came, so I asked people. They lied to me, they said they were coming but they didn’t. And then, one Friday, after gym, they hid my gym bag. I spent a while looking, and when I finally found it and tried to leave, they had locked me in there. They said they would let me out when I stopped being a weirdo, because weirdos deserve nothing, they don’t deserve friends. They left, and I was there all weekend until the janitor found me early on the Monday. I never spoke to anyone again.”

The shame Arlecchino feels right now is palpable. She herself is crying now, silently as she stares at the floor. She yells at herself in her head at everything she could have done, but didn’t. Her eyes flick to your upper body, covered by your sweater. It’s not an unusual sight, she hasn’t seen you without a sweater since your 15th birthday. Listening to your shuddering breaths, your sobs, it pains her. So much so that her voice sounds like a yell.

“Why the fuck didn’t you say anything to me? To anyone?”

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that.”

Seeing how broken you are inside, seeing the loneliness that secretly overwhelms you, she wants to punch herself. She wants to apologise, she just.. doesn’t know how. She’s not one to apologise, she never has been. She’s hot headed, cold blooded, but you soften her in a way she’s never felt.

“I’m really sorry I never reached out to you. I’m sorry I called you weird. Really, I am. And I should have never treated you the way I did.”

Her words only make you sob harder. You sob into your sleeve, the fabric muffling your almost wails, your gasping breaths. She feels like her lungs are constricting, she feels like she can’t breathe as she watches you break down into the comfort of your sweater, which is only a painful reminder that you truly have nobody but yourself. She begins wondering how many times you’ve cried like this. How many times you’ve turned to that awful habit. And the thought of that, sitting alone in your room as you cry, breaks her too. She cries into her hands.

“I am sorry. I feel horrible, I’m so ashamed of the way I just didn’t do anything. I could have done something, I should have done something. I pushed you away because I— I had just discovered I didn’t like.. god damn it. I’m a lesbian, and it was then I figured it out. Your fault.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me. I tried to push it down, but every time I saw you it was a mean reminder that I wasn’t like everyone else. You’re such a sweet person, you don��t deserve what you got. You should have been a girl who everyone loved. Instead, you got.. you don’t deserve to be alone like you think. I lov-“

She stops. She takes a breath before she continues. It’s not the time, and she can’t use this situation to confess her infatuation with you. It was an explanation, but she can’t use it as an excuse. She feels so awkward, she hates apologising. She can’t recall a single time she’s apologised properly and meant it. Her hands fumble with her tears as she wipes them away, pushing through the awkwardness she feels.

“I like you. I want to be your friend, at least.”

You don’t reply for a bit as you try hard to calm down. Biting your lip the way you did the way she refused to be your friend, you sigh as your breath hitches.

“You won’t leave me alone until I agree, won’t you?”

“No.”

You sigh as you rub your temple, running your fingers through your hair.

“We can try. Don’t expect anything. We’re not best friends. We can try.”

Relief floods through Arlecchino, at least a bit. She was dreading her apology being rejected, causing more awkwardness. A single nod as she glances up around the room.

“Alright.”

You both sit in silence as you try to calm down. Your hands fumble with your sleeves as the tears dry on your face before her voice is heard again.

“You know you have a cobweb?”

“I know. I’m scared of spiders so I just let it live there.”

“Is it big?”

“No, but I still won’t touch it.”

Her eyes search the corners before she finally finds the little fellow, a small smile gracing her face. Her hands reach up, gently pushing the spider onto her hands. She gingerly approaches you, your eyes following her. You know the fear is irrational, but it’s always been a fear. The spider is almost cute, if it wasn’t for.. you don’t know.

“It’s fine. This species won’t hurt you at all. They look a bit scary but they’re actually not. People just don’t know how to hold them.”

You know she’s trying to distract you. It’s like she knows your thoughts, but she knows better than to speak about it.

“Is that why they run?”

“Mm.”

“How do you hold them, then?”

She looks up at you, as if for permission before she opens her hand and lets the spider crawl onto your sleeve. She figures that it not touching your skin is easier for the first time.

“Just don’t be harsh. Don’t hold them by their legs, let them roam.”

“It’s almost cute.”

“I know. I like the purple rock on your nightstand.”

You both watch the spider as it crawls around your arm, you’re slowly relaxing, still on edge, but.. better.

“It’s a geode. Amethyst.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Can I?”

“Yeah. It’s pretty.”

And for the first time in a long time, a real smile ghosts your face as you begin talking.

#arlechinno genshin #arlechinno x reader #arlebina #arlefuri #genshin impact #arle #genshin wlw #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #arlecchino angst #arlecchino fluff #arlecchino genshin #genshin impact arlecchino #arlecchino #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff #genshin imagines #genshin impact fic #genshin impact fanfics

[fandomnerd9602]

Prom-posal

Fem!Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

You and Petra both could not believe it. You had proposed to her, and despite everything she had said yes honestly the thought of it still made Petra smile a little more and more.

She found herself screaming in delight while working a shift at the Moondance diner, she was so giddy at the mere thought of it.

Any normal girl would consider herself lucky for the fact that she was marrying a stark meaning that she would want for nothing in the world. Not Petra, she was excited because she was marrying her best friend.

She couldn’t help but squeal in delight. She grabbed Betty’s hand and jumped around in the kitchen. And then her boss, Enrique, had to interrupt.

“Yo! Parker! What’s with the jumpin’ jacks?!” his voice thundered.

“Enrique! I’m engaged!” Petra shouted back, excited as ever.

“Yeah. Yeah we all saw the scene.” the man just went back to the grill.

Petra was beyond excited for her marriage to you.

Meanwhile you were with Harley Keener, trying to begin planning the party and ceremony.

“I screwed up” you said kind of upset.

“How?” the young inventor asked with a smirk, “you’re marrying Petra Parker.”

“I ruined my proposal to my best friend”

“Second best friend!” Harley interrupted jokingly.

“I mean…I proposed to her before she even had our prom.” An idea popped into your head, “prom! I need to make my prom-posal to her even more special!”

“Well don’t over think it. And don’t under think it either” your pal offers. “Who can help us?”

Only one name came to mind: Ned Leeds

Would it qualify as kidnapping as to how you got Ned to help you? Put it simply, you saw him walking down the street after school, grabbed him by the backpack and flew back to the Avengers Tower.

“Mr. (Y/N) Stark, sir” Ned said after landing, “that was bot the most terrifying and awesome experience of my life”

“Ned I need your help” you tried to explain only for Harley to come flying in with Michelle in his arms.

“Dude that was weird” Michelle grumbled.

“I need both of you to help me” you tried to explain, “Petra deserves a prom-posal as awesome as her and I’m clueless”

“Whipped” Michelle said jokingly.

“Petra loves Star Wars! And so do i” Ned said with a little nervousness.

“Okay but why?” Michelle asked

“Because I love her and I screwed up the actual marriage proposal” you answered back

“Why?”

“Because she’s the best thing ever in my life and I-I couldn’t think straight when I saw her smile”

“Why” Michelle giggled

“Are you gonna help me or not?!”

“Yeah sure” she said nonchalantly.

That night Petra swung to her apartment and snuck in thru the window, trying to be as quiet as a mouse…or even a spider.

Then aunt May’s voice broke the silence, “Petra, honey, can you come into the living room?”

Busted. Petra thought to herself. She switched into her favorite pair of sweats and hoodie and walked into her living room.

The stereo was playing ‘Always and Forever’ softly. The whole living room was decorated like the Ewok village from Return of the Jedi.

You stood there with a bouquet of flowers and a small smile on your face. “Hey there Spider Monkey” you said softly.

“Hey you” she answered back.

“Petra, I love you so much” you said, “I know I screwed up my proposal and all but-”

“You didn’t.” She answered back with a giggle. “I thought it was just right. I wanna spend my life with you, (Y/N)”

“I wanna spend my life with you too.” You held up the flowers, “and I want to spend prom with you as well. Will you go to prom with me?”

Petra stood there, tears forming in her eyes. She ran forward and jumped into your arms. “Yes. yes! Yes to everything!” she giggled before kissing you. Somehow each kiss with you felt like the first.

Ned, Harley and Michelle each appeared with their own lightsabers and threw confetti.

“Finally.” Michelle said with a little smile.

“Look at my best friend” Ned said with his own smile. “Do you think Y/N will let me be best man?”

“I called dibs dude!” Harley immediately shouted back.

“How about dude of honor?”

“I’ll allow it.”

Not that you or Petra had noticed the argument. The two of you were so busy, lost in each other, lost in this small, infinite moment of happiness.

Tags: @ma1egamer @jacenradio7 @deafeningsharkslimeempath @holiday-house-of-m @family-house-of-m @supercorpdanbeau @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @russianredassassin @revanshand @iamnicodemus @multi-fandom-enjoyer

#marvel #marvel imagine #marvel fluff #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu fandom #hailee steinfeld #female peter parker #peter parker #peter parker x reader #Petra Parker #spider woman #spider girl #spider woman x reader #spider man #spider man x reader #rule 63 #gender swap #genderswap #genderbend #genderbent

[neyafromfrance95]

hey, i hope you don't mind but i kinda need to vent a little bit 😅

as a poc it's making really sad to see that "shipping vaultghoul is racist and erases maximus and barb" is such a prominent anti argument. i don't interact with these posts or these people (because i really don't want to waste my time) but it's like they don't hear themselves. maximus is a protagonist in his own right and has so much shit going on tat has nothing to do with lucy and while barb is a minor character, she's an activate member of a corporation that seeks to end the world for profit (and we get to see her own conflicts towards this) and not just cooper's wife. they're so much more than love interests but they need "special treatment" because their s/o are white 🙄

plus what is this narrow minded type of thinking where once you start to ship a couple all the other relationships become invalid? it's fiction ffs. no one is better than anyone and there's no such thing as a 'supreme ship'

i think the worst thing that came out of fallout shipping discourse is reducing maximus to a love interest of lucy when he is much, much more than that and as you said, a protagonist in his own right! like, can we stop only talking about him in the context of romance with lucy and hype him up as he deserves?! he is so complex and refreshing, he deserves more than being a talking point in a shipping discourse.

and while i mainly ship lucy x cooper, i'm fine with lucy x max and the majority of vaultghoul shippers are too. not to mention that max is like my ideal type of a dude, lol. i crushed on this man so hard while watching the show. so, those of us who ship vaultghoul do not dislike max or think he is boring (there is a difference between finding a character boring and finding his relationship with the other character a bit bland).

tbh, i hope max gets even more development and important storyline points in s2 so that maybe ppl will stop acting like he is just lucy's boyfriend.

and i think it's also weird to dismiss the possibility of max x dane when the representation this relationship could offer is very important. and as an enby myself it would be so validating for me to see the enby character paired up with the main dude (that again, i have a massive crush on).

also, i love barb and her relationship with cooper. she is a cool villain and her & cooper were a hot classy couple. tbh, it's just that ppl rarely get too shippy when it comes to the exes, especially when one is a very minor character. but i'm excited for whatever we get with her in the future.

in the end of the day, i hope the discourse (whether it is about cooper vs max for lucy, the age gap or the human x ghoul thing) won't get too heavy in this fandom bc it will ruin it and make our experiences here full of frustration instead of fun.

i'm personally all for multishipping lucy, the ghoul and maximus with everyone in this series.

#fallout #vaultghoul #lucy maclean #fallout amazon #fallout tv series 2024 #maximus #ghoulcy

[wc-confessions]

Although I may probably be going quite (a bit) too far for saying this - about the people who state this certain thing about Blossomfall, - but-

I honestly think that people who believe that Blossomfall is being immature for being jealous of Briarlight by stating “she’s an adult now, she doesn’t need her mother’s attention and support” just -

Feels like they have at least a bit of a mindset of those type of people who believe that once a teenager turns into a 18 year old, they must AUTOMATICALLY and/or IMMEDIATELY know how to physically, mentally and/or even financially know how to be fully independent and take care of themselves completely alone.

(possibly maybe even having a bit of a similar mindset to some of those parents who kick their child out of the house immediately when they turn 18 years old expecting them to be perfectly fine automatically living on their own (with 0 help?!))

And is someone who just recently turned 18, this belief about recently legal adults is honestly quite untrue.

And is especially true for Blossomfall’s case, considering the fact that she isn’t even moving away to live independently from her family - because she lives within a Clan, which has (at most) around a “small” group of 20-30 people - cats - within it. The place that Blossomfall lives with is the place that she’ll STAY and live within for the entirety of her life, as well living with the people she grew up with - including her mother, Millie.

So the fact that Millie is neglected to see her daughters within a small tightened community - heck, a small tightened group - that they’ll live within for the entirety - or at least, the majority - of their lives, making Millie neglect even MORE impacting and/or noticeable for Blossomfall to experience compared than the average person. Something that’s also hard to ignore when you live and work around and/or with your family members on an everyday basis.

And the fact that Briarlight became disabled when she, Bumblestripe and/or Blossomfall were RECENT adults, making the neglect a bit more impactful, considering the fact it started to occur when Blossomfall was only JUST legally came out of teenage-hood and occurred when she was still quite young, which is QUITE different compared to if the neglect occurred when she was like… around the age of a 25 - 30 year old person I suppose.

Also the fact that Blossomfall shows systems and/or signs of being a “glass child” - feeling and/or being completely or mostly ignored, while their sibling gets all of the affection and love - which is something that can happen in real life, especially with children those parents put more effort and/or love into seeing and/or taking care of their disabled children than their able-bodied children.

Plus - at the very least, from what I heard about her - Blossomfall KNOWS and/or is AWARE that her jealousy towards her sisters is “negative” and/or “irrational” to the point that she literally believed she had deserved to go to literal kitty cat H*LL for it. Over a situation - neglect - that her own mother decided to do, which is something that’s NOT Blossomfall and any of her sibling’s fault.

And while yes, Millie does, care about her Briarlight, her disabled daughter and knows that she may need special care for her disability - that does NOT excuse Millie for NOT giving Blossomfall and Bumblestripe love and affection when she’s able so, let alone within a small tightened community where her children live with and/or around her daily will feel more impacted by her neglect that’s quite noticeable to the people Blossomfall lives around.

And the fact that Millie treatment of Briarlight and her disability is NOT good and is even ableist (at times), which is a WHOLE other (and worser) can of worms itself.

*sighs* Look, I’m not trying to bring back the (past) mindset of the fandom EXTREMELY hating Millie for neglecting Blossomfall.

I’m trying to state that Blossomfall maybe quite a bit over-hated for reacting to Millie neglecting her and her brother within a tightened small group/community, even regardless of how irrational her jealousy towards her sister is. To the point that I wanted to inform people about it within this confession.

So…yeah. Thank you for reading my confession about Blossomfall, and I hope that you at least thought it was a quite interesting confession to read about.

.

#text #confession #anonymous #warrior cats #blossomfall

[marinlupin]

some random head cannons i have for the marauder characters, but it’s not random i actually believe these whole heartedly! and will cry if told otherwise that they aren’t true.

regulus:

regulus goes by he/they

regulus has ocd, but doesn’t care to fix it and kind of likes the discipline because they feels like he needs it/deserves it

regulus absolutely loves the rain

ballet is the only thing that they like that his mother put him in.

disassociates a lot to the point you have to get their attention a lot.

they forget to share their thoughts and experiences a lot because his parents never really asked, and since sirius left they just don’t see a point.

cat person

they love kids actually, but is very awkward with them, but if he evens smiles at one they’re automatically that kid’s favorite person

marlene:

where’s different socks, doesn’t care kind of likes if they’re mismatched

emotional support necklace

lesbian

german roots

loves braiding her hair

loves cheerios

knows sign language

hates wearing bras

james:

deaf james

he reads often, that’s how he actually got close to remus, and they exchanged book recs and whenever someone is shocked by this news he just shrugs.

chocolate cake kinda guy

he actually smokes (i don’t get the whole james doesn’t smoke cause 🤨😧? anyways)

loves ear piercings

dated sirius for a couple months, but they both decided they’re better off as best friends (moe not hating romantic prongsfoot?? shocker! (not really) anyways)

dorcas:

she collects bottle caps

is a cigarettes after sex song

favorite class is potions

is a ravenclaw, but almost got into slytherin

remus:

wears red nail polish

is really fucking awkward

is the it boy for hogwarts, and genuinely gets shocked by this news when mary and lily tell him this

uses a cain/walker a couple days before the moon and about the first week after

you wouldn’t think his space is organized, but if you asked him to get something specifically to see he could easily in a matter of 2 seconds grab it for you

can sleep anywhere

has a bag he carries around everywhere and since first year his friends have been decorating it

nightmares frequently

this boy has really bad anxiety to the point he steals some fidget toys from regulus

anger issues

to the contrary of popular belief his first best friend was regulus.

mary:

sleeps with a stuffed turtle

is an older sister to one sister

has older sister guilt, but feels the pressure of one frequently

likes gossiping, but not as much as people think

she’s actually really smart, but her mental health gets in the way

hates being alone

has a sibling relationship with sirius and james

fast talker

she doesn’t trust easily, but she’s so outgoing to the point it seems like it

I HAVE SO MUCH MORE FOR THESE PEOPLE AND CHARACTERS I JUST DONT FEEL LIKE PUTTING THEM ALL BUT YEAH

#marauders #ao3 author #marauders fandom #marauders era #regulus black #james potter #jegulus #remus lupin #wolfstar #dead gay wizards #mary macdonald #sirius black #marlene mckinnon #headcanon #dead gay witches

[paper-cuts-and-fresh-bruises]

So I thought I'd make a post on this as it's been a minute since the season 3 trailer dropped and what I'll be talking about was something that was making the rounds and I thought I'd say something when the craze had died down; but amongst the various topics of conversation, weirdly Colin's virginity seems to have come up, along with the general nature of his sexual experience. So be warned I'm going to be referring to spoilers at points from what's been posted by others on here and on Reddit, I'll leave a gap between this paragraph and the next so there you go, read at your own discretion. (note: post may be long, whoops)

So even if you've remained away from spoilers and seen only the trailer and other official promo stuff, it's clear that Colin has returned from his travel's more experienced this time in more ways than one, namely it is clear that he has been deflowered (kind of hate this term but I couldn't think of something else), and beyond that he's then also become particularly experienced in the bedroom and in the ways of charming women and such. I've seen some people say that they wished he'd still been a virgin more so because they would've found the dynamic of both him and Penelope being virgins something interesting to see as a shift from dynamics of previous seasons, and whilst I don't necessarily hate that, what's disturbed me is the way other people have had such a visceral reaction to Colin having any involvement with any other woman ever and getting ridiculously angry; which is funny when really they should be seen as interesting points of character development. In episode 1 of season 3 he returns home obviously looking as he does now and there's the whole sequence of the dropped glove that he picks up and kisses the hand of the lady in question it belongs to, Colin has returned feeling he has a solid sense of himself but also thinks himself untethered to the necessity of connection in order to engage in sex or even just flirtation, but this is important as the season progresses. In episode 2 from what I've read, he visits a brothel in which he pays for the services of a woman who works there, everything goes fine, I don't know exactly how much we will see of that encounter but it'll probably be enough; also to note, the source of this information stated very clearly that this interaction and a following one in episode 4 do not bear significance or even compare on what we will get with Polin in terms of an array of content that this season delivers.

Speaking of episode 4, reportedly he goes again but this time he's unable to engage as well as he did before and without a doubt this is due to Penelope. Additionally, this is an interesting look at sex in terms of it just being for gratification, and sex in terms of connection, a means to an end versus an act of love. In previous seasons, the depiction of brothels/sex work establishments doesn't really bear the same importance plot wise (side note I am not nor should you go shaming these people in that line of work as it's one that deserved respect like any other, it is simply functioning as a part of the conversation here), unlike here where I think that it's really important as it show's Colin's inner need for connection in order for it to work, because when he was away he probably had no issues getting his kicks because he convinced himself this felt right and back home would be no different, but that only lasts briefly and why you may ask? because the friend who he'd left and returned to transforms from a woman only in name to a woman in fully realised form, from a wallflower into an Emerald, and this kicks into gear the real maturity he needed to gain, realising from not just her appearance but the other qualities she possesses and the ways in which he is both attached and attracted to her, that she is who he has truly loved this whole time, he just needed to get out of his own head. It should also be pointed out that in the show, Colin has always drifted with finding himself let alone sorting out his feelings, so it is highly likely whilst he was technically violating polite society rules with his interactions with Penelope and this should've fired something off in his brain, that it caused him instead to think this is simply something that someone does with a friend they value highly versus being a by-product of his underlying feelings that he has with no one else. And as such, whereas Penelope was the one pining before, now he will be the one doing so and he's no longer on the pedestal he was previously so they'll be on even ground to start something real.

On a quick note, this is a friends to lovers ship but I want to make it clear, especially with men and women dynamics, that not all friends are going to have this trajectory whether we're talking about characters or irl people; friends to lovers tropes should be understood as two people who's connection starts with friendship and there's always a sense it could be something more whether or not both parties are consciously aware and it's to do with how they explore that, and is NOT in any way the case that these friends can somehow never be just friends with a strong connection, case and point Penelope and Morgan from Criminal Minds, close friends and nothing more and they're great.

Something also to say is that the obsession with Colin's sexual experience is just as bad as they way women are treated for their sexual experience, it creates this weird value and attributes a weird rating system of respect to something that's not our business, as well as fetishizing what people do or don't do with their bodies and making assumptions about their activities, so you know maybe we should agree to not do that. Beyond that, how about we actually watch what happens instead of spiralling out of control about this stuff. Also, if I see anyone who aren't fans of this ship to begin with, just leave, you're wasting energy on something that you literally don't need to be, do what the rest of us do and exit out and invest your time in what you actually enjoy instead of festering hate.

#bridgerton #bridgerton spoilers #polin #penelope x colin #colin x penelope

[spirit-of-a-kiger]

I want to lift Gangle up into my arms (the heaviest part of her is a porcelain mask, shouldn't be hard) and plant 10,000 kisses all over her mask.

#the amazing digital circus #tadc #tadc gangle #not even in a romantic way #i just love her and thinks she deserves to experience that love #she's probably not used to it after all #late night tumblr post #well not THAT late technically but GOSH am i sleepy #g'night

[uncanny-tranny]

In discussions about mental health, I am so tired of the only voices mattering being other people or other people who do not deal with a condition/disorder or a specific situation.

"Here's how I deal with loved ones with [x] condition!"

"If you do [y] because of [x mental health reason], you're selfish and everybody who loves you is having their lives made harder by you!"

"If your symptoms are [z], you're gross, and you deserve no sympathy for struggling"

I understand to an extent why people do this, but holy hell, as somebody who struggles and struggles often, the last thing any of us need to be told is that we're a burden that others have to carry. And it's terrible how everybody else's feelings but ours matter - even if we are the ones most affected by our condition or situation.

If you are dealing with issues surrounding your mental health and well-being, know that everything above isn't true; you are worthy of patience, understanding, kindness, and love. You are worthy of being listened to without judgment. You don't have to apologize or "make up" for who you are or what you struggle with.

#mental health #mental health advocacy #sanism #sanism tw #ableism #ableism tw #since when do we just go 'you're sick? well I'M more affected by YOUR illness than YOU are so my voice matters MORE' #i'm actually genuinely angry that people think saying stuff like that is appropriate #and when i say 'deal with' i mean when people treat those they say they love like a burden #simultaneously discussions about mental health have gotten better and have stay horrific and lack compassion or nuance #like people have more words to describe mental health but they cling to their disgust for us ~insanes~ like it's a lifeline #TW FOR MENTIONS OF SUIDIDE AFTER THIS TAG #when i actively wanted to take my life being told that i was selfish did NOT help. it made the desires STRONGER #because i had something ELSE to use to justify why my death was imperative. if i was selfish then why do i deserve others? #do you see why these discussions are harmful at *best* and can be the final factor in a decision like that? #sure. maybe those discussions alone won't be what pushes somebody to pass like that. #but it will have contributed to the demonization of mentally ill people #those discussions aren't going to save us from suicidality or something equally seen as drastic #videos like abigail thorn's cosmonaut video were actually way *more* helpful because she was compassionate #she provided compassion and empathy and was vulnerable enough to share her *own* experiences #i think i'm going to re-watch it for the....... 500th time #i'm so glad she kept her old videos up. this one is one of my favourites #heavy watch but i forever will be grateful to her and the others who helped me out of that pit

[aaaaagaronia]

gotta feed the xina kwan fans

#artistic carno #spiderman 2099 #xina kwan #sm2099 #uhh h h experimenting w styles bc sometimes you just gotta #so personal take on xina bc shes cool n i love her n i think she deserves more attention #love a girlie that appreciates things n refuses to let capitalism infiltrate her home n life #slay

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

#i walked into a situation today where my mom was effectively already dead. effectively bc her body was and is still alive. still breathing #painful groaning purrs. but her mind was gone yesterday. my dad said he showed her a picture of the mountains i took that day and told her #i loved her and she smiled. thats what he said. maybe he was just being nice. or maybe thats the last time she thought of me. i dunno. but #the human body is an incredible thing. shes got a heart still powering a broken body. too full of tumors to function anymore. stomach #streched like a pregnant mother. it happed really fast and now its happening very slow #im somehow probably better off than the rest of them. i only got here for the aftermath of a downslide. my daily life will b least effected #i only really saw her twice a year living so far away and she didnt text much. didnt call often. so life wont change much ill just kno shes #not there. which is sad. but theres nothing to b done abt it. life goes on. it hasnt been all bad tho. its nice to talk to my family abt her #how incredible she was. bc she was. wish her mom wasnt here tho. she doesn't deserve to b here. my mom wouldnt want her here. she didnt want #her here. but anyway. i wish her body would just let her go now. so we can sleep. so this can be over. so she can rest #but even like this shes stubborn and resilient. they say it could go on for days but i hope not. may the universe let her rest shes gotta b #so tired after 10 years of this. but i have no regrets. she knew how i felt abt her. and i dont think she had regrets either. she did so #much up to the very end. went out on a high note without the burdon of knowing it was coming #i dunno. its just such a strange experience to watch the empty shell of your mother sleeping like a gurgling baby #unrelated

[gomacave]

My most unhinged f/f7 opinion is that seph should eat people

#idk i like the idea of her being like. monstrous and reverting/transforming into like a less human form #this is basically just 'i think seph is a vampire' but its also cuz i like the image of ae/rith also possibly being a people eater #heart emoji i love to draw characters with blood covering their mouths #txt #gomaff #i feel like on aers case it gives weight to the dark and ugly thoughts thing too. like if she gets too mad she will literally start killing #that would be funny and also deserved i need to see ae kill now. not even jokinggg shes too dead wife i need her to be covered in blood #for me..... for me do it for me . . i feel like jm gonna be so so so normal ab ae/seph esp #cuz i hc them both as being transfem) #either way its like free real estate to make human experiment characters transgender

[good-beanswrites]

Hello!! I really love your writing! I like the way you write interactions between characters and how well you maintain their personalities! Sometimes, after I read these, I need to take a few moments to realize that they are not actually canon. (For me, they still are <3).

If it's not a bother, I would like to request Compliment + Yuno and any other character that you think will fit well!

Because of Yuno's past work, I always thought that the compliments her clients would give didn't truly mean much to her. At first, maybe these words gave her some warmth, but with time, she realized that these words were nothing more than superficial. And I think it would be nice to see Yuno actually being happy with the sincerity of a compliment addressed to her!

Thank you!! 

Hi hello?? This is like the greatest compliment a writer could dream of thank you??? I have been very normal about this ;__;✨ And thank you for the request, I absolutely love that concept -- it's perfect for Yuno! I think between being so used to shallow/physical compliments combined with the fact that she has a lot of self-love already, a new type of compliment could really affect her. I debated on a few characters, but ended up setting this late T1 with Kotoko

Yuno was always complimented on her smile. It was beautiful, she was told. It was pure. Sweet. Innocent. Her lipstick looked nice. Her lips in general looked nice. She was just so… nice. Yuno was glad to have such a bright smile; it hid how much she was wanted to pick up the cards from her solitaire game and throw them as hard as she could at Shidou's face.

“Don’t worry, when you get to be my age, you’ll understand,” he was saying. “But I do love your optimism…”

She stretched that smile as far as it would reach. Shidou kept talking as he stood to leave, and she answered as politely and simply as possible. Once out of sight, she allowed herself a single, dramatic eyeroll. Everyone older than her thought they knew more than her. Men always thought they knew more than her. 

But she wasn’t about to let it ruin the rest of her day. She turned her attention back to the cards, already working to forget the whole conversation. She’d nearly lost herself in new thoughts when a voice startled her at the end of the table.

“You’re strong, Yuno.”

She looked up to find Kotoko staring. She smirked at the comment -- she knew she had nothing on someone like her. The woman exuded strength, and had made more than one comment about the other prisoners’ physical fitness. Yuno flexed her right arm. “I didn’t do very well in the tournament, but thanks, I guess!”

Confusion flashed over her face. “No, not the arm wrestling thing we did the other day.”

“Oh, when we all jumped rope after dinner last week?”

“No, no. I mean… as a person.” Kotoko scooted closer. She always had a calculating look on her face, studying everyone around her. Yuno had expected to feel uncomfortable under such a gaze, (many of the other prisoners had voiced the sentiment,) but there was something almost pleasant about the way Kotoko stared. Yuno couldn’t put her finger on it.

She waved her hand dismissively. She knew the best way to accept praise was to play it down, just a bit. “Eh, sometimes it's gotta be like that, you know? I just do what I can to make it through the day, I wouldn't call that strong or anything…”

“Well I would.” Her gaze was level. “I think the way you handle everyone, never compromising on your own values, is very impressive. I’ve seen the way the others talk to you here. I can only imagine, with the line of work you’re in, what utter scumbags you’ve had to deal with on a daily basis. And yet,” she tipped her head, and Yuno suddenly understood. Kotoko looked at people as if she actually saw them. “You’ve never once raised your voice. Or scowled. Or even cried. Being sent to a place like this, after what you’ve done, it’d be enough to infuriate anyone.”

She surveyed the room, adding, “I'm still figuring this place out, but I can tell it's designed to break us. Which is why we need to stay strong. I just wanted to tell you, from one woman to another -- I'm glad to have someone like you fighting with me.”

Yuno’s smile had faded to surprise. At that moment, she did something that she hadn’t in an awfully long time. 

She blushed at the compliment. 

Maybe it was the way Kotoko said it. She wasn't the type of person to say anything she didn't mean. Maybe it was the fact that it was something new, not another comment about her lips or her laugh or her body. Or maybe it was because Yuno was tempted to believe it.

She’d heard so many voices lately, whispering how weak and helpless she must be to end up in this whole mess. The other prisoners, too, treated her according to her small build and unbroken nails. She suddenly realized how close she’d come to falling into the same mindset.

Getting a hold of herself, she made her voice light. “Well, I'd say the same to you, but I think you already know that, heh. But… thanks for saying all that.”

“Of course.” Kotoko’s smile was neither sweet nor innocent, but it was certainly honest. “I mean it.”

Yuno nodded. “I know.”

#milgram #yuno kashiki #kotoko yuzuhira #waahhh thank you again! im always so amazed by your theories and write-ups -- it means a lot you enjoyed these :'D #i do love that for yuno mmm #she deserves a meaningful compliment from someone who understands 👏 #kotoko is pretty close to her age and (might) have experience with mistreated young women #so i think shed have a soft spot for her! #also this is referencing yamanakas tweet about them arm wrestling and yuno was the strongest woman (besides kotoko) ill reblog that lol #once deep cover comes out i want to write some more t2 kotoko - i just have no idea where her heads at rn 🤔 #i really wanted to write fuuta but ive already written a whole fic about their dynamic and i should really try something new LMAO #drabbles

[im-smart-i-swear]

Fnin doodle dump!!!

these are some of the countless doodles of Felix Net and Nika i drew in the past few months instead of doing anything productive<3(theyre not in any particular order and the not-shittiness of them varies a lot)(i'm still figuring out how to draw those bozos, especially nika, so that's why the designs arent very consitent lol)

(slight blood tw for the last one?? i guess)

(prolly gonna make part 2 or something like that cause that's not all of em)

#my art #felix net i nika #fnin #some of these kinda suck lol #but thats okay!! #these guys........ love em<3 #id like to make designs for other characters in fnin eventually #like the parents and stuff #i KINDA have a design for laura...... but its not really polished(awful pun absolutely intended) yet:/ #i want to make her look really cool. she deserves it #i knowwww shes underdeveloped as shit buuut i still like her. like.. the POTENTIAL is there!!! #honestly i like to hc that actually every time 'something comes up' and she cant be w/ the trio its actually bc shes #having batshit insane near-death experiences of her own. or shes like a secret agent lol #'horseriding practice' is actually a codename for like. spy kids level training......... this is really stupid. #oh well #i just think it would be funny