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twistedinthreads · 3 months

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Lost In The Labyrinth

Part 1.

You came to Oxford to get away from America; from your mother's fame and the ghosts of your past. You get more than you bargained for when you meet Felix.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: sexual content (not explicit but it's there so 18+ MINORS DNI), I used some descriptors for reader such as scars, birthmarks, imperfections, but I made her as inclusive as possible, reader is American, she's also a nepo baby but isn't using her nepotism in any real way. Bi!reader and Felix. fic title inspired by the taylor swift song, of course (and I am terrible at titles!)

Playlist (a work in progress!)

A/N: I am so insecure about this reading back over it omgggg but I'm posting it anyway! Hi friends. I've been working on this for so long, and I'm recovering from my surgery so I figured there's no time like the present. Here we are. I am obsessed with this movie and this man! I promise this fic is gonna get more interesting, but we've got this for now. Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist, and feel free to send me asks if you want to talk about reader and her lore, because she is very special to me and I adore her already!!!

Your eyes droop as you hum along to the nameless blonde that stands in front of you, her sparkly pink cocktail dress catching the light and making her glow. She’s going on and on about how Everlasting Eve is her favorite movie of all time, and how your mother is “the greatest actress of our time!” You want to vomit. It’s not like this doesn’t happen, it’s practically a daily occurrence at this point, but you’d much prefer it if people stopped giving so much of a shit. If they did, you wouldn’t be stood with a bottle blonde from Bristol talking your ear off. You’d just stepped out to get some air, for Christ’s sake.

“You’re from the States, right?” You nod, sipping at your cocktail and bouncing from one foot to the other to conserve some warmth in your legs. She asks it as if she hasn’t been talking your ear off and didn’t notice your accent, not as thick as it used to be when you’d lived in New York full time, but still foreign here. The music is less obnoxious out here, bass easing on your chest. It’s cooler, too, the fall night air brushing against your neck like a lover. “That’s brilliant! I went with my parents once, when I was a kid. We went to Disney World.”

You smile and nod, muttering out a “cool” as you sip at your drink, cringing at its strength.

“Is that far from where you live?” She asks, and you wonder how she got into this fucking school. Probably a legacy, with more money than she knows what to do with.

“Uh,” you suppress a laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, like… incredibly South of New York.”

“I’ve always wanted to go to New York,” she continues to babble. “My parents go on business trips there, but they’ve never taken me. I want to see where Little Angels was filmed! Uh, Lincoln Square Park?”

“Washington Square Park,” you correct her.

“Yeah!” She snaps her fingers and points. “That’s it! When your mom’s character is waiting there for Hugh Grant’s character, and then they walk off into the sunset together? Absolutely the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen!”

You stare off into the distance vacantly, the night sky painted with different navy hues and dotted with the brushstrokes of stars.

Suddenly, you feel a warm arm around your waist, hot breath on your cheek. “There you are!” You’d know that voice anywhere. The figure kisses you on the cheek and it takes everything in you not to start grinning from ear to ear. You turn, meeting his lips, and he plays along like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “I’m gonna head home, wanna come with?”

You nod, thanking him with your eyes. He winks gently at you and grabs your hand. “Nice talking to you…” you’ve already forgotten her name. Her tone has completely shifted, body stiff as her eyes mull over you and the man that holds your hand with a vice grip.

“Sandra.” It’s cold, but you keep your own voice chipper.

“Sandra! Nice to meet you,” she’s in your college, so you’ll have to be cordial. “See you around?”

She just nods and lights a cigarette.

As you walk away, one of Felix’s hands around your waist and the other holding your own, you look up at him. “Thank you so much. Holy shit. I was about to lose it.”

He lets out a low, intoxicated chuckle. “It’s what I’m here for, darling.” Uses his fingers on your chin, tugging lightly to kiss you hard on the mouth. He pulls away and you chase his lips, planting one more kiss on his mouth, this time softer.

“Your room or mine?” You ask, to be met with a smirk as he grabs your hand and leads you across campus. It’s a path you could walk with your eyes closed, the muscle memory of so many nights embedded into your body by now.

His room is all red carpet and wood paneling, empty takeout containers and beer cans and ashtrays strewn about. His bed is unmade and his textbooks are all over his floor, but it hardly matters when he’s kissing you like you’re the only person in the fucking universe.

Within minutes, you settle back into a familiar routine. Clothes shed, completely bare to one another as you grind and writhe on top of him, hands on his toned chest. He’s gorgeous with his mouth open in ecstasy, labored breaths escaping it, eyes closed and clenched, hands rested on your waist as you move above him, a renaissance painting. You’re moaning too, tempering your whines so that the sounds don’t travel. The moon paints the room in subtle, cool light and the pleasure makes sweat bead on your brows.

“Missed you,” he manages between moans, voice heavy and breathy. “Missed this.”

“It’s been like, two days,” you let out a chuckle, and it fades into a moan as you grind your hips again, trying not to scratch his chest with your manicured nails, though you doubt he'd mind too much.

“And that’s too long,” he replies, and you lean down and kiss him, open mouthed and messy and euphoric.

When it’s all said and done, you lay naked beside him while he smokes a cigarette, arm laced around your bare shoulder, your head rested on his. It’s bliss, something you’ve begun to ache for all the time. “Really, thank you. That girl was driving me fucking insane.”

“That scene where your mom’s character and Hugh Grant ride off into the sunset together? Immaculate.” He mocks the girl, a surprisingly good impersonation, and you both belly laugh. You wipe away bits of red lipstick from his mouth and grin delicately at him. You know you’re not the only girl he’s seeing, not even the only girl he’s fucking, and it wedges something vile and dangerous in your heart. The words linger on your tongue. You want to ask, want to know, and if you sound desperate? Well, so be it.

“What is this?” You wrench the words out quickly, looking at your hands.

“What do you mean?” He takes a long drag of the cigarette, letting the smell perforate the air in the room, turning it cloudy in its wake.

“Us,” you murmur, and he runs a hand through your hair. “Like… I know you’re fucking other people, Felix. And that’s fine but… I just want to be clear on what this.”

He looks at you perplexed, smashing the cigarette in the ash tray and turning on his side toward you. You mirror his motions, so the two of you are laying in bed, you practically on top of him due to its size, your hands under your cheek. “I’m fucking other girls? News to me.”

“I see the way you look at them,” you murmur. “India. Annabel. That guy you study with sometimes… Ryan?”

“I’m not fucking anyone else,” he mutters, seeming almost offended at the notion. He scoffs before his next words. “I practically haven’t even looked at anyone else.”

“Fe-“ he cuts you off, a hand brushing over your cheek, holding it delicately.

“No,” he starts. “I know I have a reputation or whatever,” he waves his free hand around. “But I genuinely haven’t been seeing anyone else since we started… this.” He gestures between the two of you, and you can sense that he's lying, but it hardly matters.

You’re almost self-conscious as his eyes rake over your body; so self aware of every little imperfection, every feature. The birthmark on your hip. The way one tit is just a bit bigger than the other. Your crooked finger from when you broke it playing volleyball in ninth grade. The gray hairs you’d been noticing popping up recently.

“You’re the prettiest fucking girl at this college,” he says your name before kissing you sweetly. “Don’t want to look at anyone else.” You know it’s a lie, considering the fact that he does look at other girls, and often. It’s almost like you can’t bother to care, though. Your head is all floaty and tears are burning your eyes.

He climbs on top of you, kisses down your chest, down your stomach, makes sure to take his time kissing that same birthmark you were so insecure about minutes before, your inner thighs, before finally landing where it matters most.

“So fuckin’ beautiful, yeah?” He looks up at you with those gorgeous eyes, the earnestness in them making your heart swell up. In this moment, it’s not the same Felix that made you cry last week because he told you you needed to get your own friends (you have plenty), or the Felix that ignored you at the pub to talk to Annabel, causing you to storm out and ignore him for three days until he realized.

Sometimes, he doesn’t care if you come, and he doesn’t clean up after himself, and sometimes his words bite, and last week he made that insensitive comment about your friend with depression. But you think you might love him, and it feels like enough.

After, he asks you to stay with him. You laugh languidly, tears brimming at your eyes from how hard. He kisses you, soft and slow, the moonlight seeping into the window and painting the carpet with light; it looks like a lone puddle of blood in a sea of blackness.

When you wake, it’s nearly noon. The sun beams through the curtains and you shield your eyes, trying to move underneath Felix’s strong grip. He’s got a hand wrapped around your thigh. Your leg wrapped around his waist while your arms are, slightly pained from the uncomfortable angle, folded around his neck. You regret moving your face from its spot in his chest, wanting nothing more than to occupy his space for as long as possible.

You can’t bear to wake him, his eyelashes fluttering ever-so-slightly against his face. You smile, tuck yourself back into him, and feel his breaths come out relaxed and steady. The tranquility doesn’t last long, though, and you watch as his eyes flicker open. “Good morning,” his voice is raspy, his saccharine accent accentuating every word with posh sweetness. He kisses your cheek and gets up, your eyes meeting his bare ass. “I should go shower, you cool to stay here?” He asks as he gathers his things.

“I need to go,” you also get up, searching around for your undergarments and your uncomfortable cocktail dress, pulling the blue, beaded garment on without much care. “Sundays are study days with June.”

You slip your uncomfortable heels on, wincing at the blister you’d developed last night but didn’t notice until now, and kiss him on the cheek as you leave his dorm.

The trek across campus has you nearly limping in pain, as you kick your shoes off the second you make it into your room. You gather your shower gear, thankful for your own bathroom and the warmth of a long, hot shower. It’s almost painful to wash his scent off of you, but you know you’ll be seeing him again soon, and let your floral body wash cleanse you and your sore form.

Before you get dressed, you grab antibiotic cream and bandaids from a drawer and tend to your blisters, throwing on a pair of slip-ons to avoid even more pain.

And as you go to study with June, your mind is far from Shakespeare; it rests only on Felix, Felix, Felix.

#felix catton x reader #felix catton #saltburn #saltburn x reader #saltburn smut #felix catton x you #felix catton x y/n #felix catton smut #felix catton fic #saltburn fanfic #saltburn fic #saltburn fanfiction

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reputationmunson · 1 year

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The Stars Align | Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

Summary: Your hopeless crush on Eddie Munson might not be so hopeless after all thanks to a trip to family video

Content: fluff, Steve has a little crush on you but you’re into eddie, swearing, making out, mentions of bullying, she/her pronouns, reader is a year younger than Eddie

Word Count: 3.1K

a/n: i haven’t posted a fic in so long i’m so happy i was actually able to finish something! i hope you all enjoy :)

divider by @firefly-in-darkness

“Oh my god, Robin, she’s here! How does my hair look?” Steve asks frantically as he sees your car pull into family video. “Who is it this week?” She sighs, growing tired of seeing Steve strike out again and again.

“You already know who it is. I’ve been using my best work for weeks and…nothing” he groans. “Really? Telling her about the time you had a dental emergency due to milk duds is your best work?”

Before Steve can respond, the bell above the door rings and you walk in, looking as pretty as ever.

“H-hey! Haven’t seen you in a while. I hope you aren’t cheating on us with blockbuster” Steve says when you approach the counter and Robin cringes so much that she has to walk away.

“Nope” you say with a laugh “I’ve just been busy, but I finally have a night to myself. Can you check if you have a movie for me?”

“yeah, anything for you- I mean, um anything for a loyal customer not like I’d do anything for you. Well, I might, but not in a weird way-”

“Steve” you chuckle “I didn’t think it was anything weird. Until now”

“Right, yeah. Sorry. Anyways, what movie are ya lookin’ for?” He sits at the computer to pull up the movies on file. “Nightmare on Elm Street”

“Actually, my friend, Eddie, rented that yesterday, but I can see if he’s watched it yet so he can bring it back for you?” he suggests

“Eddie munson? You’re friends with him?”

“Oh, yeah, but don’t worry he doesn’t actually worship the devil he’s just like this huge nerd with a weird taste in music”

“No, I know. I just, uh, think he’s really cute”

“Oh” he says in a bit of disbelief. he’s been trying to ask you out for weeks and this whole time you’ve had the hots for Eddie. “You think he’s cute?” Robin asks, appearing out of nowhere with a big smile on her face.

“y-yeah. there’s something about the big brown eyes and long hair, i guess” you sigh, dreamily while Steve thinks hey, i’m a guy with brown eyes and a lot of hair.

“Ya know what, feel free to look around and we’ll take care of something real quick” Robin says and you wander off to the horror section.

“Call Eddie” She tells Steve.

“What? Why?”

“This is fate, Steve. She wants to rent the same movie Eddie just rented and she also happens to be, like, totally in love with him” She states and he rolls his eyes. “In love, Robin? She said he was cute because he has eyes and hair.”

“Aw, you’re jealous.” she teases. “Well, kinda. I wanted to ask her out and I haven’t had any luck in months with anyone.” Steve whines

“Think about it. Do you really wanna ask a girl out who’s into one of your closest friends? That’s obviously a recipe for disaster, so call him” Robin says and Steve groans. He hates when she’s right, but he picks up the phone and dials anyway.

“Hey, munson. Have you watched Nightmare on Elm Street yet?”

“I got it yesterday, Steve, what’s the rush?”

“There’s a pretty girl here who wants to rent it”

“And what do I have to do with that?” Eddie asks, thinking Steve is just trying to use his ‘position of power’ (Steve’s words, literally no one else's) to try and impress any cute girl that walks through the door.

“Well, somehow the universe keeps finding ways to laugh at me because when I told her my friend Eddie has it she said you were cute or something” you can overhear Steve and you could die of embarrassment. You had flashbacks to middle school when your best friend told your crush that you liked him and he made fun of you for the rest of the school year.

“I am cute, Harrington and you know it. Who is she?”

Steve tells him your name and Eddie's heart practically stops for a second. He can’t believe the pretty girl he’s had a crush on for years thinks he’s cute.

“I’ll be right there” Eddie says before hanging up and sprinting out the door with Nightmare on Elm Street in hand.

“Welcome to Fam- Oh, it’s just you. She’s in the horror section” Steve grumbles when Eddie walks in. “Why do you have that look on your face?” Eddie asks Robin. Her eyes are big, smile even bigger with a hint of her ‘I just came up with a master plan’ look. “No reason, just go find your girl”

Eddie strolls over to find you and you look as gorgeous as always. You’re wearing a dress that stops halfway down your thighs, leaving your beautiful legs exposed, your lips shimmer from the gloss you put on, and you have an adorable look of concentration on your face as you look through the movie selection.

“Hey, you must be the pretty girl who’s just dying to watch this movie” He finally speaks up after admiring you. You turn to him and smile “you brought this back for me? you didn’t have to do that. did you at least get a chance to watch it?” You walk closer to him and the smell of your perfume makes him crazy. Everything about you just gets better and better.

“No, but it’s alright. I saw it in theaters, so it’s no biggie”

“Now I feel bad. You obviously wanted to watch it again and i’m only renting it because I’m like the only person who hasn’t seen it yet”

“You haven’t seen this masterpiece yet? It came out four years ago” he gasps and holds up the movie, making you giggle. Music to his ears.“I know. I’m lame”

There’s a beat of silence and if anyone were to look at Eddie, they could practically see the wheels turning in his head. For years, he’s been trying to find a way to work up the courage to just talk to you and now it feels like he’s been presented with the opportunity of a lifetime.

“Maybe we could watch it together” he suggests and feels like he’s stopped breathing until you give him an answer. You look up at him with your captivating eyes and nervously fiddle with your hands. “Yeah, I’d really like that” you respond and Eddie feels like he could do ten cartwheels right here in the middle of the isle. Little does he know you feel the same way.

“Yeah? Are you free tonight around eight?’’ He asks and you nod. “Can I get your address?”

Luckily, you had a scrap piece of paper and a pen in your purse and you write down his address with shaky hands due to the nerves from being asked on by the guy you’ve been hopelessly pining after for years.

“So, I’ll see you tonight?” He asks as you both walk over to the door. Steve and Robin are watching you both like hawks, but quickly act like they are working when Eddie shoots them a glare.

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” you promise and he flashes his million dollar smile. “Me too. I mean, of course I will, it’s my house so why wouldn’t I be there, um, anyways I’m gonna go before I say something stupid again” He chuckles, nervously.

“I should go too. Thank you for bringing that movie back” You touch his arm in appreciation and his head spins at the feeling of your touch. “No problem. Plus, this movie might be too scary for you to watch alone”

“Yeah? Are you gonna protect me?’’ you step closer to him, hand still on his arm.

“With my life, sweetheart”

Ten minutes before eight, you park outside of Eddie’s trailer. You couldn’t believe this was finally happening after wanting this for as long as you can remember.

You had transferred to Hawkins High your junior year, which was Eddie’s first senior year and you’d been smitten since. On your first day, he had one of his infamous outbursts in the cafeteria, and while everyone else was mortified, you couldn’t help but be intrigued at his passion. He was always loud and never let anyone’s opinions of him change who he was. It was admirable

The two of you never had many interactions besides when you’d let him borrow a pen in science class. You were always too afraid to ever say anything to him about the way you felt, and when you graduated while he stayed behind, you’d thought your chance had passed you by. Now, three years after you graduated, you’re standing outside his front door about to watch a movie with him. Life is funny like that.

“Hey- fuck, you look good” Eddie’s words slip out before he can process that he said it out loud and you chuckle “Really? I just threw on some comfy clothes, but thank you”

“You always look good. Anyways, welcome to my humble abode” He bows and motions for you to come inside. You look around once you're inside, taking in your surroundings. You’re in Eddie Munson’s living room and you know it’s silly, but it feels like things are finally falling into place.

“Make yourself at home, I’m gonna get the popcorn. Do you want anything to drink? I got some coke it you want one”

“Yeah, that’d be great” you answer as you sit on the couch. He puts the popcorn in a bowl and pours you both a drink. You take note of the Garfield mug he’s put his drink in and you smile at how adorable he is.

“Lights on or off?” he asks after he puts the movie in. “Off, obviously. Gotta have the whole experience, right” He nods in agreement, turning off all the lights until the tv is the only illuminations. When he sits on the couch, he sits right next to you leaving no space and you couldn’t be happier about it.

Eddie’s confidence seems to grow in the dark. He does that cheesy thing where he pretends to yawn and stretch so he can put his arm around you. It’s cliche, but it makes both of you smile, nonetheless.

As you sense a jumpscare approaching, you nestle closer to his side and hide your face in his neck. He can feel your breath fanning on his skin and he can’t seem to think straight. When you hear a scream from the television, you jump a little and he chuckles. “This coming from the girl who wanted to turn the lights off” he jokes

“Hey, don’t make fun of me. I was promised protection and that’s supposed to come without torment” You move your head to look at him and when he looks back at you, your faces are so close together your noses are almost touching. You’re about to put your lips on his until another scream comes from the movie, causing you to jump again.

“Can I tell you something?” he asks in a whisper. “yeah, anything” you move to position yourself more comfortably, but still close to him.

“I’ve had the biggest, most embarrassing crush on you since high school” he confesses and your eyes widen in surprise. “you have not”

“Cross my heart. You were the only person to smile at me when I’d pass you in the halls. You weren’t afraid of me like everyone else.”

“Why would I be afraid of you? You’ve always seemed like a teddy bear wrapped in leather to me.” You think it sounds too cheesy when you hear it out loud, but Eddie thinks it makes you even sweeter.

“Teddy bear, huh? I didn’t work this hard for my bad boy image to be compared to a stuffed animal” he jokes. “Bad boy image?” you scoff “You’re drinking out of a garfield mug”

“Alright, you got me there, but Garfield is a total badass”

“If you say so. Can I tell you something now?” you ask and he lets out an mhmm before you continue. “I’ve had a crush on you since highschool, too.”

“No shit? I mean Steve told me you thought I was cute but I thought he was just fucking with me” Eddie seems to be playing it cool at your confession, but he’s screaming on the inside.

“It was my first day at Hawkins and you were hard to not take notice of after one your cafeteria spiels. I remember everyone thinking you were obnoxious or a freak, but I was just enamored with you.”

“You never thought I was some satanist sacrificing children? I think you were the only one” he huffs out a laugh. Eddie’s life has been easier since high school. He still gets some weird looks every now and then, but things have calmed down. Although he always put on a brave face, some of those days were harder than others. It’s nice to know that you never thought he could be capable of doing those things he was accused of.

“I always felt guilty that I never stood up for you. I hated watching them berate you and what I hated even more is that I was too scared to ever say anything to them” you say, looking down at your lap to avoid eye contact.

“Don’t feel guilty about that. They wouldn’t have stopped anyways” he places his hand on your thigh and you turn your head to look at him. He has a look of appreciation in his eyes, like he’s trying to let you know that you didn’t need to say anything to those assholes. Just you being thoughtful for him is enough.

“I even left a note in your locker one day. It was when one of those idiots tore pages out of your campaign notebook and I guess I just wanted you to know that there was someone on your side”

“That was you? It’s been driving me crazy for years trying to figure out who that was!”

“you got it?” your eyes light up.

“I did. Still have it, too. This is probably embarrassing, but I’d read it whenever I had a bad day. I guess I didn’t want anyone to know that anything ever got to me and that I was above it all” He sighs. Eddie likes that he can be vulnerable with you. He hardly ever opens up to anyone about anything, but there’s just something about you that makes him comfortable. He feels like he could tell you anything and you wouldn’t judge him for a second.

“Do you still have it? The note?” you ask and he scurries to his room to rummage through his nightstand where he keeps it.

“Closest thing I’ve ever gotten to a love letter” he says before handing you the piece of paper that reads:

Eddie,

Sorry if this is weird, but I just wanted to say I’m sorry for how they treat you. I think you’re awesome and I hope you think that too. This town is a little less shitty with you in it. Never change

P.s. you look really good with long hair please don’t cut it

You chuckle when you read the last line. “I can’t believe you kept it. I knew I was right when I called you a teddy bear. You’re secretly a big softie, huh?”

“The softest. But only for you, yeah?”

“So that crush on me you had in high school… do you still have it?”

“It never went away, but now it’s even bigger than some teenage puppy dog shit”

Everything around you seems to drown out. You’re too focused on how close Eddie’s face is to your own. His lips look so soft and pillowy, the perfect shade of pink. You scan over the rest of his face, entranced with his beauty. His eyes are even prettier up close. You could count his eyelashes with how little distance there is between the two of you and you think that one day you will.

Right now, the one thing you’ve wanted the most is quite literally staring you right in the face. Not a loud sound from the movie, or even if the end of the world was happening right outside could take you away from this moment.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers, hand coming up to cradle your face. “Please” you barely get out.

Eddie gently places his lips on yours and it feels like this weight you’d be carrying around had been lifted from your body. Nothing in your life has felt more right than this kiss.

You’re kissing Eddie Munson. The boy from the hallway that always gave you a kind smile and made you weak in the knees. The boy from your science class who never had a pen. The boy who you’ve wanted since you were 17. You always criticized yourself for never getting over what you thought was just a silly little crush, but it’s always been more than that. Every moment leading up to this has been worth it and you’d do it all over again if it meant you got to kiss him.

You instantly miss his lips on yours when he pulls away and you can barely stand it, so you pull him back in. This kiss is more intense. You melt when his tongue glides into your mouth and his hand moves to hold your waist. You both put all of your feelings and passion into this kiss. It’s pure electricity.

You wish you didn’t need oxygen to breathe. You wish you could live forever in this position, but unfortunately that isn’t the case, so you both slowly break apart but not without him giving you a few pecks before fully pulling back.

His pupils are blown wide and his cheeks are flushed. His hair is a little messy due to you threading your hands through his soft curls. He’s never looked more beautiful.

“So, I know this was only our first time hanging out, but- uh- do you want to be my girlfriend?” he asks, nervously and you smile so big that it causes your eyes to wrinkle.

“I’d love to” you simply answer.

“Yeah? You wanna be mine?’’ he smiles as relief washes over him.

“I’ve always been yours”

Nightmare on Elm Street has been long forgotten. Eddie restarted it twice, but each time you both end up in deep conversation and he’s kissed you more times than you can count. Maybe one day you’ll watch it, but today isn’t that day. Not when you’re sitting next to the most kissable person on earth.

The End

#eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson on #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things fic

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thorough-witness-enjoyer · 7 months

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Looking for Destiny Lore Mutuals!

Greetings everyone! My name is Jen and this is my first post after running a blank „observing from the sideline“ tumblr blog.

After a long battle against the internal fear of being judged and yearning for a community space, I’ve finally decided to come on here and try to make Destiny mutuals!

I’ve been playing the game since I was a young child and I’ve ADORED it’s lore SO MUCH! It has truly defined me as a person and I am utterly in love with it. Though I have been playing on and off over the course of the decade and am currently on a break from playing, my love for it has never left and in light of the recent issues that have happened at Bungie, I want to honor the work done by the wonderful creative individuals at the company by talking about Destiny and making pieces of fan media! I don’t know every little piece of lore, but I sure would love to!

If anyone would like to bond over the lore, OCs, theories, AUs, ships, or anything of the sorts (I‘m an artist and a writer!), I am more than open (going without yapping about this game for 2 minutes drives me up a wall) and would love to form friendships over this game! My specific interests are the hive, vex, the Witness, its disciples, the Traveler, the Veil, and psions, but I will absolutely consume every square inch of Destiny‘s story with room for more.

That is all for now and if you are interested, or know of things like Discord servers, my inbox is welcoming! I look forward to finally being free of the fear of being cringe and not holding back how the lore has consumed my life!

#destiny 2 #destiny the game #destiny art #destiny oc #destiny #destiny au #destiny fanart #destiny fanfiction #destiny eliksni #destiny hive #destiny vex #destiny cabal #destiny lore #destiny guardians #destiny community

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paxmorgana · 2 months

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Militsioner Hc post bc I am cringe but I am free:

Heads up, I haven’t gotten my grubby little hands on the demo quite yet, so don’t expect perfection here!!

-So, Slavic language branch, right? I feel like our mili would at least understand some other Slavic languages, maybe even speak a little. For self-indulgent reasons, I’d like to think he has a pretty ok grasp on polish, particularly. Can’t write in any other language to save his life, though.

-In the same vein, this man has barely illegible handwriting. I know he writes poetry, but I’m starting to think maybe there’s a reason HE has to read it to the player.

-I hc his height being around 1,500 feet maybe?? Not much to compare him to, so this is really just eyeballing.

-It’s given that he’s actually pretty sensitive! His emotions are also very prone to sudden changes from what I’ve seen, and he clearly isn’t very happy overall. Until directly exposed to stimuli, though, he’s very monotone. I kind of interpret this as some kind of masking or emotional suppression.

-Ofc the moment thunderstorms come around that all goes away (canon, for whoever didn’t know). This man has very real panic attacks and will shut down. The worst part about all that, though, is that he physically can’t move anywhere or even shake too much. LOOK AT THE SIZE OF HIM. He would kill people, and he knows it so well. Mili can’t even let himself scream because that’d probably blow people’s eardrums out. He just has to hunker down, internalize absolutely everything and sob as quietly as he can, though of course, that’d be heard too.

-I’m linking that back to him hiding emotions most of the time, that behavior is so intense during his panic episodes that I feel like it’d carry over into day to day life. That’s why he’s so receptive to basic kindness. It’s literally the only comfort he has, and the only time he can break from masking everything ever, and he’s still subtle then.

-Something something anxiety disorder perchance..

-Also someone on here talked about the militsioner being autistic and let’s just say I’m pretty happy abt that one :)))

-Mili gets so attached to anyone who even cares to be nice to him. If they betrayed him and left on the train, he wouldn’t even know what to do with himself. He’d just be fully bewildered and inconsolable.

-If he were normally sized and whatnot, he’d be terrified of horses. No explanation or anything. They’d just freak him out.

-I feel like he’d enjoy classical music, specifically Tchaikovsky and Chopin. Very melody-rich and sophisticated. He’d wag his finger and pretend to be conducting very badly. My little (humongous) king of cring..

-Mili likes being read to! He loves listening to people talk to him. He’s a wonderful listener and just quietly melts away at that kind of affection.

-In the rare occasion of which someone falls asleep on him, he just totally freezes. Mili gets so awkward with it bc he’s terrified of screwing it all up. No doubt he’d be staring at them the entire time, though. Just.. totally mesmerized.

-I think someone else said this before, but if he were a bird, I think Mili would be a shoebill.

That’s about it now BYE don’t look at me

#militsioner #niche interests #tall boys #headcanon #writing #it’s over #pee pee poo poo #I POST CRINGE #point and laugh #everyone point and stare #kind of g/t

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darkjimxn · 2 months

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Chapter 4: The Evil Twin

Summary: Elitist Academy is exactly what it sounds like: an academy that focuses on teaching students from elite classes of the magic community. When Y/N is thrown into the academy to learn alongside 8 men, she realises she’ll have to learn to work with them, whether she likes it or not.

Pairing: Reader x OT7 (Choose Your Own)

Genre: Magic School au, mystery, angst

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: domestic abuse, additional warnings might be added as story progresses

A/N: A bit of a longer chapter this time! Unfortunately I won't be able to post another chapter in a while because I have my exams currently, but I should be free by the end of the month! Until then I'll probably post more for The Crab Cult since I've already got a few chapters in the drafts lmao

Taglist: @florabloomgirly @shawtylilsalty

“Guess again, princess.”

Guess again…? What was that supposed to mean?

The man standing before you was clearly Jimin. But how had he managed to dye his dirty blonde hair into a rich purple in a matter of minutes? How had he managed to change his bright blue eyes into a menacing dark red? Did he magic himself to change his appearance? But why would he even do that in the first place?

Questions upon questions started to pile into your mind, only adding to your confusion, until a single memory bulldozed the pile to the ground.

‘Wait! You have to tell me,’ Jungkook had gasped, ‘is it true you have an evil twin? I’ve heard so many rumours about it. And I swear I saw this guy that looked just like you in class earlier!’

Jungkook’s words, which had been disregarded as silly rumours at the time, suddenly came to mind as the realisation dawned on you.

Perhaps his words weren’t as silly as you thought.

Your gaze raised to the man standing before you, studying him before you spoke slowly.

“You wouldn’t happen to be Jimin’s evil twin, would you?”

The man paused, his eyes just barely widening for a moment before he laughed. It was a chilling sound, scattering goosebumps all over your arms as it bounced against the walls of the dim, empty hall. While Taehyung’s gaze had felt icy and unwelcoming, this man’s laugh felt like a deadly warning.

“Evil twin?” He repeated once the laugh had tapered off, tone now laced with apathetic amusement, “no one has ever said that to my face before.”

He studied your form for a moment, gaze travelling from your uniform to the wand in your hand to your features before finally raising to meet yours once again.

“Judging from your lack of trembling, you’re either wildly ignorant…”

The evidently fake amusement suddenly vanished from his face as he took a step forward, leaving just a breath’s worth of space to lay between you both. You could feel the edge of your uniform brush against his own as you felt your chest rise in irritation.

“Or you’re extremely dumb,” he finished, his voice low and simmering alongside his unwavering eyes.

His desire to intimidate you was as clear as day.

But you would not be so easily intimidated, so instead you met his gaze confidently as you forced your expression to remain unfazed. Who did he think he was to send you a hidden threat? Principal’s son be damned, he would learn what happens when you’re pushed to your limit.

You brought your hand to his clothed chest before giving him a forceful shove, hoping to create some distance between the two of you. He didn’t move as much as you would have liked, barely half a step at the most.

“I’m neither, so I suggest you stop throwing words like that around so carelessly. Do you even know who I am?”

You regretted the words the second they had left your lips, cringing as you realised how they might have sounded. They implied that you were like every other elitist here, hiding behind your parents’ money and power. But that had not been what you meant.

Unfortunately, Jimin’s brother didn’t seem to realise that.

He gasped dramatically, bringing his hands to his mouth as his voice dripped in sarcastic fear, “oh my, you’re right! I should know my place shouldn’t I?”

That earned him a roll of your eyes.

“Tell me, which mommy and daddy will put me behind bars if I speak to their princess badly, hm?”

“I’m not talking about my parents,” you snapped, irritated by his condescending tone, “it’s me you should be worried about.”

A scoff sounded at the back of his throat, as if you had said something unbelievable. You hated how annoyed that made you, so much so that you were ready to end this conversation and head to your room.

“Whatever,” you said, gaze momentarily taking in the bright moon standing proudly outside the hall’s window, “what are you doing here in the dead of night?”

Jimin’s twin crossed his arms over his chest as he raised a challenging brow, “and how is that any of your business?”

“It’s my school,” you deadpanned, “if you’re about to blow it to bits, I’d like to at least be aware that a celebration is in order. Now care to explain?”

The ends of lips twitched, “you know I could ask you the same. What are you doing here all by yourself, at a time like this?”

“Do you always answer questions with another question?”

“Do you always ask so many questions?”

The both of you stared each other down, yours a seething glare while his was filled with cocky amusement. You seemed to have met your match when it came to stubbornness, and you had to admit you were far from amused.

“Is this a twin thing?” You spoke sharply, “you’re a complete jerk while your brother is just slightly more tolerable?”

You noticed his amusement vanish at your words, leaving behind a hard expression that tore through your gaze. You got the feeling that he was thrown off by something you had said.

“... slightly more tolerable?” He repeated slowly, eyes calculatingly sharp all of a sudden, “ that’s not usually how people describe my dear old brother.”

“I called you a jerk too, which last time I checked was much worse,” you remarked, not understanding his suddenly excessive interest.

“Did you hurt Seokjin?”

The randomness of the question had caught you so off guard that you couldn’t stop yourself from blurting out a stupid, “what?”

You didn’t understand the connection between calling him a jerk, calling Jimin tolerable, and hurting Seokjin. Whatever was going on in the mind of the man before you, you couldn’t possibly tell.

“Jimin is only rude to people that hurt Seokjin,” Jimin’s brother explained, still harbouring a lethal gaze, “if you hurt Jin, and Jimin was rude to you, it would explain why you’re not a fan of him.”

“What does that ev-”

“I asked a question,” he said sharply while cutting you off, “one I’m expecting an answer to.”

Despite the fact that he had interrupted you and his tone had become threatening again, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be angry. All you could do was stare at him with a confused expression, wondering where this conversation had gone.

“No,” you answered finally, “I didn’t hurt Seokjin. I hate your brother because he’s annoying. That’s all.”

“I see,” he said, lost in thought for a moment before the amusement sunk back into his features. This dude was going to give you whiplash at this point, “in that case, you seem to have caught my attention, princess.”

“Am I supposed to be honoured?” You scoffed, “I could care less what you think of me.”

“I’ve already wasted more than enough time with you here anyway. Blow up the school, don’t blow up the school, I don’t care. Just stay away from me.”

You turned around and started walking away, but not before adding for good measure, “or you’ll regret it.”

Jimin’s brother watched you walk away curiously, a thought lingering at the back of his mind. You had just pushed against one of the heavy doors when he turned and crouched in front of the Tree of Life.

A soft bang, reverberated around the hall, causing you to pause in your escape and face him once again. You were met with the view of Jimin’s brother bent over the floor.

Except, the floor was no longer the pristinely smooth marble tiles organised throughout the area. Instead, a large tile had been pushed upwards, almost like a trap door. You moved closer, peering deeper to find a set of stairs travelling downward, directly under the Tree of Life.

Your gaze flitted to Jimin’s brother, who was staring into the deep abyss thoughtfully.

“They say this trap door leads to an ancient and long since abandoned lab that used to belong to Park Bogum, the creator of Elitist Academy,” he said, “you must know about the rumours surrounding him…”

“Regarding his affiliations with Counterbalance.”

You paused, cautiously taking in his words.

Most people lazily referred to Counterbalance as dark or black magic, but that was an overly simplified term to describe a thing that was much more complex. While Life magic was the magic that essentially sustained the world, Counterbalance was the magic that countered it to keep it in check. Sure, that inherently didn’t make Counterbalance evil in itself, but the magic had been associated with so many horrible things that have happened in the past that some have made the association anyway.

“How do you know that? Why do you know that?” You asked.

“Why?” He countered, pushing himself off the ground to face you, “are you scared?”

“It’s dark magic. If you’re not scared, you’re just stupid.”

Jimin’s brother gave you a devilish grin, one that you found both irritating and unnerving at the same time, before he stepped towards you. The two of you were close once again.

“Wanna come with me?”

You gave him an incredulous look, “did you not hear what I just said? There’s a reason why attempting to manipulate Counterbalance is forbidden.”

“Yes, the reason being cowardice,” Jimin’s brother said with a scowl, “dark magic is simply a different type of magic we’re not yet familiar with. If we keep hiding from it, we’ll always cower in its shadow.”

“So tell me, are you coming or not?”

He was crazy. It was the only explanation you could come up with to explain why he seemed so interested in potentially entering a Counterbalance lab. And as much as you pitied the insane, you were not going to let them lead you by example.

“Forget it,” you said immediately, stepping away from him, “if we get caught, we could actually get expelled.”

And then I’ll have to go back there.

“Do whatever you want. I’m leaving.”

You turned around and stormed towards the door to the residences but, just like last time, you only managed to push the giant door open before you paused.

Technically speaking, you’ve only ever read about Counterbalance magic very briefly in a few textbooks here and there, while your tutors would barely even mention the topic if at all. Yet, here Jimin’s brother was, giving you a first-hand opportunity to look at an entire dark magic lab?

This was a once in a lifetime experience.

You hated just how curious these things could make you sometimes, especially knowing the horrors that have been caused by misusing Counterbalance. The stuff shouldn’t be messed with, history had taught that lesson enough times.

But… one little look couldn’t hurt, could it?

It’s not like you were actually going to try to manipulate dark magic, you knew that would be crossing an unspeakable limit. But what harm could just looking around to satisfy your curiosity do?

Very slowly, you detached yourself from the double-doors and walked back to the Tree of Life, trying your absolute best to ignore the smirk Jimin’s brother had on his face as he eyed you.

“Changed your mind?” He asked innocently, failing miserably at hiding his smug expression.

“Shut up.”

He chuckled.

“Okay, okay,” he said, turning towards the trapdoor.

“Let’s get going.”

It was clear the walls making up the passageway were the roots of the Tree of Life. You could feel the familiar rough texture of its bark as you descended the spiralling staircase behind Jimin’s brother cautiously, ready to bolt if he tried anything. You obviously didn’t trust him fully, unsure of the exact reason why he had invited you along. But you didn’t bother asking knowing that he probably wouldn’t have given you an actual answer anyway.

Instead you continued to feel your way down the pitch black space, focusing on not tripping, though the thought of Jimin’s brother falling because of you put a satisfied smile on your face.

A few minutes later the passageway opened up into a large cavern, the walls still clearly made of bark. But the bark was different, with a dark brownish, blackish colour that made it seem like it was rotting.

To your left, carved into the wall of bark, was an array of bookshelves holding a number of leatherbound and worn books, while to your right stood a long table full of various lab equipment and trinkets. You scanned a wooden test tube rack holding four vials filled halfway with a glowing turquoise substance and a tray filled with a number of oddly coloured and shaped stones. A large textbook was sprawled next to it, open to a page depicting a number of trees followed by blocks of text. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust.

Next to the table was a large cauldron, filled to the brim with the same glowing turquoise liquid in the vials, bubbling atop a flame. Brows furrowed, you brought your hand over the raging orange and maroon fire, confirming your suspicion: the flame had been magicked to only heat the cauldron. With everything being wood in the room, it was a wise choice. The sides of the cauldron were dusty as well.

Your gaze shifted back to Jimin’s brother, who was scanning the room just as curiously as you had been. His eyes missed nothing as they jumped from one small detail to the next.

“Well?” You said.

“Well what?”

“What do you mean well what? Didn’t you come down here for a reason?”

He furrowed his eyebrows, “that’s none of your business.”

You watched him turn away to pick up one of the books on the long table. He was the one that had brought you down here for who knows what reason, what was the point of being so secretive? You were going to see whatever he was down here for anyway.

Jimin’s brother set the book down, moving onto the vials in the test tube rack. He gently picked one up with his hand, and it was only then when you realised that they were gloved. Brown cloth gloves with golden rims encased both his hands while reaching a little above his wrists, a marked difference in uniform compared to the rest of the student body. Was he a germaphobe or something?

He turned to the rest of the things scattered around the table, shuffling through them. It didn’t take a detective to know that he was clearly looking for something.

But then again, what did it matter to you? You weren’t here to help him, so you turned around and went back to inspecting the other side of the room. Whoever had been studying in this lab seemed to have a special affinity for plants. There were plant specimens everywhere. Samples of different types of tree bark were hung on the wall in a frame with writing giving the descriptions of the trees they had come from, while another table separated by a movable partition held a number of different plant roots that had been dissected like a cadaver. You’d never been very interested in botany, so the evident obsession with plants had kind of dampened your interest in the place.

Once you had finished searching the area, finding nothing but more and more botanic experiments, you turned to Jimin’s brother in disappointment.

“I’m not seeing anything dark magic related,” you said crossing your arms, wondering if he had just brought you down here as some kind of prank. It seemed unlikely, but you still couldn’t help but wonder.

Jimin’s brother sighed frustratedly as he set a piece of black tree bark down, “I know.”

His tone told you that he probably had not been expecting this either. Clearly he hadn’t found what he was looking for.

“You sound disappointed,” you noted.

He didn’t answer as his gaze stayed fixed on the table, waves of frustration clearly radiating off of him. You weren’t particularly curious about what specifically it was that he had failed to find, but there was still one question that you were curious to have answered.

“So, since whatever your plan was clearly just failed, mind sharing why exactly you asked me to come down here with you?”

Jimin’s brother just stared at you, lips forming an unamused line.

“I’m not stupid,” you pressed further, “you wouldn’t have brought me here if not for a reason. So just let it out, what did you want from me?”

A slight smirk twitched against his lips as he crossed his arms over his chest, “and they say I have trust issues…”

“You’re seriously not going to tell me?” You said incredulously, finding his growing grin wildly irritating, “fine, I guess I’ll just start guessing then.”

You paused for a moment, pretending to think it through.

“Ah, I know. You’re going to use me to fulfil your plan of becoming the most powerful magic user in the world with the help of Counterbalance,” then you added, “oh right! And also to kill your twin because you’re the neglected brother that never got as much love and attention as him. How close am I?”

Jimin’s brother could only try to stifle his amusement.

“You’ve watched one too many fantasy movies, princess.”

“And what would I accomplish by murdering my brother?” He said while tilting his head, then he added sarcastically, “although, I have heard arms and legs sell for very high these days. How much do you think-”

The quip died on his tongue as the sound of a door opening suddenly reverberated around the room, freezing the two of you in place. Your gaze snapped to where the sound had come from, but you were just met with the wall of the cavern.

“Wha-” You were about to ask, but Jimin’s brother grabbed your arm with a gloved hand and quickly dragged you behind the partition you had noticed from earlier. The two of you leaned against it, the most hidden you could be in this room.

You peeked over his shoulder, still confused as to why noises were arising in the room when there was no one there, until the wall shimmered and distorted slightly to reveal a person walking through it.

Your eyes widened in recognition.

Ms. Kari?!

Ms. Kari, with her dirty blonde hair and wired glasses walked through the almost rotting black bark walls of the cavern like it was nothing, chatting intently with someone on the phone as she failed to notice the two of you.

But didn’t Jimin’s twin say this place was abandoned decades ago? What was Ms. Kari doing in a Counterbalance lab?

You glance at Jimin’s brother for a moment, and it was clear that he was thinking the same thing.

“Yes, yes, I’ve planned out the tasks,” Ms. Kari spoke into the black cellphone, “do you really believe me to be an incompetent teacher?”

You watched her walk deeper into the room, but, the more she did, the more Jimin’s brother had to step backwards to avoid being seen. That forced you to take a step back with him.

“I’ll have them complete by tonight,” she went on, continuing to walk deeper into the room, “don’t worry, they’ll cover everything we need.”

Jimin’s brother took another step backwards, but there was nowhere for you to accommodate him. He had backed you into a wall, causing you to feel rough, black bark against your back while his clothed back was pressing against your chest. You stood caged between him and the cavern wall, simmering in anger at the unexpected position. If you didn’t like having to listen to men, then being touched by one was something you loathed to your core.

But by then, thankfully, Ms. Kari had stopped walking further into the room, instead pausing in front of the large bookshelf.

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow then. Goodbye sir,” she said, before evidently hanging up.

After putting the phone away, she turned to the bookshelf, studying it intently.

“Hmmm, now where did I put it…?” She muttered.

You squirmed as Ms. Kari began searching through the bookshelves, clearly uncomfortable in your current position.

“Is it this one…?” She continued to mutter, picking up an old, brown textbook, “no… I need the whole layout, not just a section.”

Jimin’s brother frowned as he felt you moving behind him, wondering why you couldn’t just stay in one place. The more you moved, the more dangerous it was going to be for you. He blew out a quiet breath, itching to tell you to stop but unable to as Ms. Kari took a step closer to the partition.

You, on the other hand, had to force yourself not to shove him off of you. He had taken another step backwards as Ms. Kari took another oblivious step towards the partition, despite there being no space to do so. That left you even more squished against him.

It was driving you insane.

You refused to be in this position anymore. You had to get him off of you.

Jimin’s brother turned his head slightly, wondering if he could quietly step to the side a bit so you’d stop touching him.

But then he flinched as he felt your hands brush against his back.

You scowled as you felt him move against you once again.

Okay, that’s it, you both thought furiously.

“Stop touching me!” The two of you blew up at each other.

You froze, panic seeping into your mind as you realised just how screwed the two of you were now. Jimin’s brother was no different. His jaw hung open in shock before his head snapped to where Ms. Kari was.

“What on Earth-?” She muttered, turning around.

But before her gaze could land on either of you, Jimin’s brother instantly turned towards the partition and gave it a strong shove. You watched in horror as the solid partition toppled over, falling midair for not more than a second before it collapsed…

on Ms. Kari.

“Did you just push a whole partition on top of a professor?!” You whisper-yelled incredulously, your mouth hanging wide open in shock.

But Jimin’s brother simply turned to you after making sure Ms. Kari was down and hadn’t seen the two of you, “quite whining, we need to get out of here before she sees us.”

His gloved hand grabbed your wrist before dragging you alongside him as he ran up the stairs.

The two of you didn’t stop running until you had entered the residences, panting like crazy when he finally let your arm go. You and Jimin’s brother’s breaths filled the hallway for what felt like forever as you both desperately attempted to catch your breaths.

But once Jimin’s twin seemed to have achieved as much, he whirled to you in anger.

“What the hell was that?” He asked, rage laced in his tone and expression.

“Me?!” You said, indignant, “what did I do?”

“What did you do?! Next time you want to run your hands all over me, maybe try therapy instead?!”

“Oh that’s rich coming from the guy that had his entire body pressed against mine. You couldn’t have moved a little?! Clearly personal space is a subject needed for your next therapy session!”

Jimin’s brother scoffed, “that’s what I was trying to do, but guess who’s hands made it impossible?”

“Maybe next time I will let you touch me,” he snapped, “then we’ll see just how much you enjoy what happened to you, princess.”

You immediately grimaced, his words feeling like a swarm of spiders crawling up and down your body. There it was. There was one of those disgusting sexual comments that men seemed to love to throw around carelessly.

“You’re disgusting,” you said, putting as much of your repulsion as you could in your words before scoffing, “and I’m leaving.”

You stormed into an elevator, immediately slamming your fingers against the button to your room's floor before repeatedly pressing against the button that would close the elevator doors. You wanted him nowhere near you.

Jimin’s twin, on the other hand, stood for a moment, his expression a perfect picture of confusion as he stared at the now closed elevator doors.

Disgusting…? He thought, wondering why you had seemed so repulsed by the comment. It took him a second more to come to the realisation, his lips pressing into a straight line as he did.

She must not know.

His gaze dropped to the floor, the dim hallway reflecting his mood suddenly.

She must not know just how horrible my touch really is.

You flung the door of your dorm open, letting it slam shut behind you.

You couldn’t believe that bastard. Sure, this school was full of disgusting men like him that said stuff like that all the time, but still. How dare he talk to you that way?

You could feel the rage slither down your arms, making your hands shake. That kind of degradation always seemed to unlock a different kind of anger in you. One where you didn’t know whether you wanted to go back down there and make him beg for your forgiveness or go into a shower and aggressively scrub his words off your skin till it’s bright red and raw to the touch.

You should’ve made him pay for a comment like that when you were down there. But you were also very much aware that you needed to leave in case Ms. Kari was searching the halls for the two of you.

“Y/N!” A voice behind you suddenly called. You turned to find Jimin walking into the living room, a bright smile on his face.

“I’m so glad you’re okay! I came back and you weren’t here… I was about to call the principal.”

For a moment, all you could do was just stand and stare at his face. You knew they were twins, but… him and his brother looked exactly identical. If Jimin were to dye his hair and wear contacts, you wouldn’t doubt for a second that it was his brother standing before you.

What an unnerving thought.

“Why does it matter?” You finally asked, tearing yourself away from searching for some kind of non eye- or hair-related feature that could distinguish them apart. You were mildly aware that your anger from earlier was unintentionally seeping into your tone, “I can do whatever I want, whenever I want. You don’t own me.”

But Jimin just smiled, “of course, we’re all adults here. I just meant that I was worried, that’s all.”

His smiles and concerns only seemed to add to the frustration that was building up in your chest. On one hand you had a twin telling you innuendos while on the other hand you had one giving you fake worry. You were tired of it. Tired of this entire day altogether.

“I’m going to bed,” you announced, your tone suddenly soft from your exhaustion- both physically and mentally.

You made your way to your bedroom door and paused for a moment, facing Jimin who was still standing in the living room, “and don’t bother getting worried every time I come back a little late. I can handle myself, as I’m sure Namjoon told you.”

Finally, you turned around and walked into your room, but not before Jimin called from behind you.

“You’re my roommate, of course I’m going to worry about you!”

“You can’t be serious!”

You stared at Principal Park with a scowl, wishing your glare could burn right through him, but he ignored it easily, choosing instead to sit composedly at his desk as he gave you a calm and collected expression.

“I apologise Y/N, but even if I wished to I could not,” he explained slowly, as if you were some kind of wild animal that needed to be tamed. It made you want to wipe that calm expression off his meticulously kept face.

“All I’m asking for is to be put into a different cohort, any other cohort. I can’t be in classes full of men, it’s… not… healthy for a young woman like me,” you said, words laced with a hint of desperation, “if anyone can do it, it’s you. That’s why I’m here.”

“Y/N,” he said, tilting his head in sympathy, “you of all people should know how important it is that you are educated suitably. Your classmates and yourself must learn differently compared to the rest of the students in this school. The success of our future depends on it.”

You stared at him helplessly, a mixture of rage and hopelessness churning uncomfortably in your stomach.

“I understand that you wish to be in a cohort with individuals more similar to yourself, but in a way your current classmates are similar to you as well, don’t you think? You will be leading the future generations together after all. Perhaps this experience will prepare you for the relationships you will have with them once you take on your roles.”

“And besides,” he continued, as if you hadn’t already gotten the message loud and clear, “just because you are being placed into different cohorts, does not mean you are barred from befriending students in different cohorts. In fact, I encourage you to mingle with the other students of this academy.”

You watched Principal Park push himself into a standing position, giving you a bright smile that reminded you of Jimin’s, “now, I must attend a meeting at the moment. If you still wish to continue this conversation then we may schedule a meeting for another time, but I must reiterate that my answer will not change even then. Is that clear?”

Your jaw ticked as you chose to stay silent, knowing that saying what you really wanted to say to him would probably get you expelled. Instead, you levelled your tone before replying.

“Yes.”

“Good,” he nodded, “I hope you settle well here, your father and I are good friends. I genuinely do wish the best for you, Y/N.”

“Yes sir,” you forced out through gritted teeth.

Once you were dismissed, you turned around and left his office, immediately entering into the main hall with your arms crossed over your chest. You didn’t know if it was his head you wanted to bash into the wall or your own. That would still be less painful than the years of suffering you were about to spend in this academy.

You uncrossed your arms with a defeated sigh, choosing instead to shift your focus on the empty hall in front of you. It was too early for students to be wandering the area at this hour. Most were still in the dining hall eating breakfast and conversing with friends. Your conversation with Principal Park had effectively wiped your appetite, and you didn’t have any friends that you could hang out with anyway, so you let yourself enjoy the view of the Tree of Life instead.

There was something calming about looking at the Tree. You didn’t know whether it was an effect of the Life magic coursing through its branches or just the beauty of it in general. The sunlight flitted through the stained glass ceiling to fall on its soft petals, making them glow light colours of blues and pinks. Even its trunk was a proud chestnut, a stark contrast from all the dark mahogany scattered around the walls and ceiling of the hall.

You gravitated towards the towering structure in awe, choosing to settle onto the stone barrier encompassing its base. They’d made the barrier just perfect for students to sit on and relax, and you couldn’t help but feel that this was a better spot for relaxation than any library or dining hall in the academy.

But your reverie was interrupted when the double doors of the main hall suddenly burst open. Your gaze snapped to the doors to your left, watching them shake as the doors slammed against the wall behind them. From here you could see the dining hall containing a bunch of students all gasping and speaking frenziedly with each other in hushed tones.

The reason the doors had opened seemed to be a male student, who was stumbling into the main hall after shoving through the double doors weakly. You scanned him in surprise as he continued to stumble further into the hall until he tripped on his own feet and collapsed to his knees.

He looked like he had been beaten pretty badly as a bruise encompassed the right side of his jaw and a painful groan escaped his lips. You tried to figure out who he was, but you couldn’t seem to make out the entirety of his face.

You stood up abruptly, eyes widening at the scene before you in confusion.

What was going on?

Next Chapter...

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swordfright · 9 months

Note

do you have any c!awesamdream fics recomendations?

Honestly, I don’t have a ton of recs. c!awesamdream fic is mysteriously hard to find, and I also wouldn’t want to recommend you anything super E-rated in case that’s not your jam. Personally I’ve had more success searching the Sam & Dream gen relationship tag than the slash tag. That said, here are my no-brainer recs, most are gen with some exceptions:

inosculation by @theminecraftbox - canon compliant, reflection on how their relationship progresses during the prison arc, how c!sam’s authoritarian tendencies bloom in pandora, and the weird symbiosis he and dream achieve. technically not a slash fic but like it is To Me!!

saltwater on rock by @elmhat - also not technically a slash fic but it is a fun exploration of their relationship post-prison: who are they to each other, now that they aren’t prisoner and warden? what power has dream reclaimed, what power has sam ceded? or is it the other way around? fun stuff.

the trees deny themselves nothing by @lookinghalfacorpse - if you’re asking for recs you’ve probably already read this one (it’s basically THE awesamdream fic at this point) but i think it lends itself to re-readability! and if you haven’t read it: dream loses his leg in pandora, phil n techno conscript sam to make him a new one after the jailbreak, things get interesting. OP also wrote a post-fic oneshot which you can read here.

everlasting evermore by @elmhat - incomplete atm and also not slash but definitely awesamdream vibes. sam is a sad widower king who interrogates dream in his dungeon so it scratches the fantasy itch. this fic does some cool things with the cloning lab lore and i’m really excited to see where it goes!

21 steps in the desert by @airrec - banger. it's short so i won't describe it in detail. banger tho!

scream eureka by @cgogs - basically a post-canon domestic horror fic, sam and dream are married (with a kid on the way) but neither of them is able to move on from pandora. this fic deals with issues of bodily autonomy very well and it’s also refreshing to see trans pregnancy handled with tact, rather than treated like a fetish or a joke. IIRC this fic is an AU of an AU so be warned, it does come with like 30 pages of background lore which isn't necessary to understand the fic but does make it easier to follow.

all these lives by @lookinghalfacorpse - reincarnation drabble, plays with sam’s obsession in fun ways. not really sure how else to describe this one but i reread it sometimes! it’s good!

you don't have to be like that by @dr3amofagame - incomplete, i haven't reread this one in a while but i remember enjoying it at lot! dream gives sam the book in a moment of desperation and then has to navigate the fallout.

accident by @airrec - another fave. concise, fucked up, and very well written.

i’ve also been working on a multichap awesamdream fic (am i allowed to rec my own fics??? is that too cringe??) that’s gonna be wrapping up soon. pandora's vault gains sentience, that's the whole plot. like most of the other works on this list, it’s not technically ship fic but it is very much about sam and dream’s...situation. full warning tho, it’s long and rambly and weird, sorry for that!

i also wanna add that pretty much any fic that explores the scrapped lore is gonna have to deal with awesamdreamisms by necessity, owing to the nature of, well, the lore. there's a decent amount of fics about it, here's one that I found recently and enjoyed a lot.

Have fun, mind the tags. And if you find more then by all means, feel free to add to this post! I know there's a lot of tumblr-exclusive content floating around out there that can be harder to find than stuff on AO3.

Also, it's worth mentioning that some of the most compelling c!awesamdream content I've read were brief interludes in fics about much broader subjects in the fandom; I've read a lot of great c!awesamdream moments in c!rivals fics, prison trio fics, c!dnf fics, etc. So my advice is to cast your net wide, if that makes sense? Happy reading!

#like i said most are gen but like gen: suggestive edition if you catch my drift #i hope thats ok to say dfghnjmkjhg #if anyone wants to be untagged from this post and/or have their work removed just dm me and i'll make it happen!#c!sam #c!awesamdream #c!dream #awesamdude #dreblr #fic rec #asks #i don't have time to check these links before going back to work but hopefully they all lead where they're supposed to #if not lmk

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nightgoodomens · 4 months

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bullshit bingo take of the day i just stumbled upon: "crowley only helps job and elspeth because he doesn't like hell and wants to spite them"

and i'm ashamed to admit it but that gave me severe anxiety. i usually ignore the bad takes but i'm not having a good day mentally and i feel like i'm going crazy so i guess i really need to ask. i'm no delulu right? crowley doesn't do it to spite hell and be rebellious but only because he's kind and selfless and wants to help and protect?

You know, this is the reason why I am cutting myself away from the Good Omens fandom more and more, and I might recommend you cutting yourself a little bit off as well - filter your dash with people who you know post the good stuff, things you love, and don’t look for general opinions etc anymore.

There are still awesome people out there who haven’t forgotten what this show and characters actually are.

I remember when I joined with Season 2 and told myself wow this is the first normal fandom I’ve ever been in - how?! - lmao, no. It is like every other fandom out there where you simply have to find your people and ignore the rest.

At the beginning I felt like it was insane and amazing how everyone got along, bloody hell, people posting opinions, analysing everything, the disagreements were kind, interesting conversations, so many clues being found, general respect, everything worked with canon so people agreed to disagree on little things… most of all so much love for the characters for exactly who they were and for the show for exactly what it was.

Cue in a few months later and everything is negative, characters are monsters, or pathetic, or whores/sluts/dogs, trolls everywhere, so much hate, and anon hate, canon is non existent, everything; the story and the characters and every scene are fetishised to the extreme and have nothing to do with what they have been portrayed to be, and actually apparently we were all wrong and Good Omens is an extremely hardcore sex show after all, and the metas are now how it proves that they should be in an extreme dom/sub relationship - yeah the two guys who’s whole story is that they need to be set free. Crowley is treated in a way that makes me feel sick at this point because people talking about the horrible things that should be done to him and saying it would be good for him actually makes me shudder. It is scary how so many people talk about sensitive topics that they don’t understand at all. Some takes are actually horrifying at this point and I hope they don’t genuinely have such opinions in real life when real people are involved. And the fans acting like such things are absolutely normal and this is how majority of relationships out there are like are frankly worrying me. Aziraphale was completely stripped off his personality too. So much to unpack about this insanity but I don’t want to dig into it. Not everything should be normalised.

In a way I wonder if there was an influx of fans who never watched the show, just know it from fics/fanart.

I was getting extremely angry about these things but I finally let it go and just blocked, and blocked, and blocked. Now I barely see anything like this. I had to step away from AO3. I scroll the dash a lot less. And I simply started focusing on other things again.

When it reaches the moment when you cringe seeing Good Omens because people ruined scenes for you - step away. That’s when I knew I have to start blocking and filtering because I didn’t want to start associating the show with cringe - it doesn’t deserve it.

Just find your circle of likeminded people. So this fandom brings you joy not a headache. And ignore the rest.

#NightGoodOmens answers

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depressedbagpipe · 1 year

Text

Ka-Chaow (Charles Leclerc x female!reader)

Chapter one

Words: 3310 Warnings: mentions of alcohol and being drunk (guys, please, don't drink alcohol), some anxiety thrown in there, a couple of bad words, google-translated italian A/N: it's lights out and away we go! welcome to my crazy world in which i got into f1 right when the season was ending and now i can't wait to see every race. also, cause I'm still kinda new and I'm not Italian, any mistakes that i make in regards of *everything*, feel free to correct me, and be nice about it ;) A/N (II): italics are thoughts and phone calls and the email, bold and italics are messages, just bold is the location ;)

Series Masterlist Next chapter

Chapter one

London, November 18th, 2022

The weight of my bag was the only thing preventing me from sprinting to my desk. Several manuscripts I had yet to finish, together with my laptop, and all my personal items, hung from my shoulder as I made my way into Mr. Williamson’s wing. I cringed at the sound of my heels over the polished floors, making various heads turn my way as I sprinted by as fast as I could.

Eventually, I got to my desk, conveniently placed just outside Mr. Williamson’s office. The slight clutter was hastily thrown away with a flick of my wrist, making space for my bag, and turning my computer on at sprint time. A quick glance at the office before me told me Mr. Williamson hadn’t arrived yet. Thankfully.

Checking my wristwatch, I sighed in relief at the time.

9:32 am. New record.

Now relaxed, I took a seat in my uncomfortable chair and started typing away on the keyboard, going over all the emails and meetings I had to schedule for the day.

Half an hour later, Mr. Williamson showed up.

‘Good morning,’ he said in his usual hoarse morning voice.

‘Good morning, Mr. Williamson, would you like your usual coffee order?’ I asked in rehearsed practice.

‘Yes, please,’ he responded, struggling to open his office's glass door.

‘You gotta push,’ I noted while I grabbed my coat and my wallet, trying not to laugh.

‘Right,’ he grumbled, finally opening the door and leaving it open.

He stumbled a bit over the expensive rug, looking around before taking a seat on his bigger and far more luxurious desk. His briefcase fell over when he placed it on it, dangling over the edge, and only once he was fully seated, I left my post.

That’s how every morning went for the past year. I would arrive in time –usually–, be ready at my desk until Mr. Williamson came in late –usually–, make sure he got to his seat in one piece, and go down to the ground floor where the company’s private Starbucks had its own space.

One Americano, and one iced vanilla latte to go, please. Once again, those words were deeply burned in my memory.

‘How is he doing this morning?’ Jeremy, the morning barista, asked as he took the order.

I shrugged, swiping the company card over the payment terminal. ‘Still pissed off drunk.’

‘So, the usual?’ he chuckled, motioning me to the end of the bar while Amanda, his workmate, made the drinks.

We both leaned over the counter separating us, talking in hushed voices, so the other customers wouldn’t listen to our conversation.

‘Honestly, I don’t know how much he can go on like this. I’m starting to feel bad for the guy.’

‘Girl, he cheated on his wife, and she rightfully left him. If he deals with his own mistakes by getting wasted every night, it’s up to him,’ Jeremy sent me a pointed look.

I bit my lip. ‘I know, but you should see him. It stopped being funny eight months ago. Do you know how many meetings I had to reschedule because he wouldn’t even pick up his phone? And I don’t mean his personal phone, I mean the company phone in his office. All he has to do is press a single button and talk,’ I winced at the memory.

‘Here you go, have a nice day!’ Amanda gave me the drinks, and I smiled gratefully at her.

‘Well, as soon as he keeps ordering Americanos, I’m not complaining. I’ve doubled my hours here solely based on his caffeine ingest. And you know how much I need the money, so he better keep those orders coming,’ Jeremy winked.

I rolled my eyes and sighed. ‘If he ends up in rehab, I’ll blame you.’

He shrugged. ‘Fine by me. He’s an asshole.’

I laughed with a small shake of my head. ‘Bye, Jeremy! See you in a couple of hours!’

Getting back into the elevator, I made a mental note of everything that had to be done that morning. Meetings, meetings, and more meetings, until either Mr. Williamson got fed up and left, or I dropped in exhaustion for a quick nap.

The walk back to my desk felt longer than usual, the hefty workload of the week finally catching up to me as it normally did every Friday. I left my own coffee on my desk and quickly gave my boss his Americano, to which he merely responded with a grunt. He had his sunglasses on and was massaging his temples as if his life depended on it.

Making a face at his state, I bent down and took off my heels, knowing the constant clicking would be painful in his hungover head, and went back to my desk, making sure the door to his office was closed. Grabbing the phone, I was quick to cancel the first meeting he had in ten minutes.

With a sigh, I grabbed one of the manuscripts and resumed my reading, reading every page twice and making sure no typo was missed.

It was both a blessing and a curse, working at Ink’n’Paper. We were one of the world’s leading publishing houses on all sorts of literature, and consequently, the huge workload that we bore was overwhelming. Ink’n’Paper had been my first and only real job in the publishing industry, starting as an inexperienced intern and working my way up until I became the assistant of a household name in Historical Non-Fiction. It hadn’t exactly been my first option, non-fiction, but the pay was good, and I was desperate to prove myself. Next thing I knew, it had been three years since I’d started, and I was pretty much the only one making sure the whole department didn’t burn down due to my boss’ sudden neglect.

It was a few hours later, still sometime before the end of my workday, that I –or rather, Mr. Williamson– received the email. I had been managing all his accounts ever since the very first day he stumbled into the office completely drunk, Vodka bottle in hand, and screamed how much of a cunt everybody was on that floor, and then passed out on his rug, not before puking all over himself. After the embarrassment and degrading task of cleaning, not only him, but his rug too, I had taken over his entire life, managing even his dental care appointments for him, knowing he wouldn’t even be showing up to half of them.

I was surprised at the sender, for the name was oddly familiar. Maurizio Arrivabene.

Frowning, I quietly opened the message.

‘Buonasera, Stephen. I know it’s been a while, but as you’ll understand, these past few years have been a rollercoaster here. I was actually thinking about your past offer, and I know I’m a year too late, but I would love to look into it more. I’ll be in London next week after the season’s over, maybe you’d like to have some coffee (or tea, whichever you prefer), and talk about the book? I know here at Ferrari we need some push, whatever results we get this weekend. I look forward to hearing from you soon. Take care, Stephen. Sincerely, Maurizio.’

I widened my eyes at the email. Maurizio Arrivabene. Ferrari’s old team principal. I quickly gathered my planner and a pen and pushed open Mr. Williamson’s office door. Thankfully for me, he now seemed much better.

‘Sorry, Mr. Williamson?’ I took a few tentative steps toward him.

‘Yes?’ he lowered his spectacles, halting his typing on his keyboard.

‘You’ve received an email from one Maurizio Arrivabene,’ I pronounced his name in a heavy accent, the same way my dad would whenever he talked about his homeland. ‘Something about a book offer, maybe?’

His face broke into a smile. ‘Oh, Maurizio!’ he stood up from his seat. ‘I haven’t spoken to him in a while! How is he?’ he asked me. He still reeked of cheap alcohol.

‘I don’t know, sir, but he wants to meet with you next week.’

He clapped. ‘Fantastic, schedule a meeting with him.’

I coughed. ‘Well, the thing is, he sent an email to you, directly. I believe he’d like something more casual,’ I said, yet I opened my planner to check his schedule.

‘Well, then, I shall phone him immediately!’ he grabbed the phone on his desk, and rapidly frowned. ‘What’s his number again?’

I pursed my lips. ‘He didn’t write any, sir. I think you shall write to him directly.’

‘Of course! Let me just…’ he sat back down and typed something on his computer. ‘What was my email again?’

I groaned soundlessly, quietly making my way to him and fastly typing his correct credentials. Standing closer to him, I noticed the many wrinkles in his suit and the many hair strands that fell on the wrong side of his side part. Shaking my head, I pointed at the email.

‘There it is.’

‘Okay, when am I free for tea?’ he responded after a few seconds, his eyes reading over the words.

‘Well, you did cancel three meetings with the entire Editorial Department so… I rescheduled them for next week, but you should be free Friday afternoon after work,’ I checked all the time slots available, scribbling down the possible dates.

‘Why couldn’t we meet on a weekend? We don’t work on weekends,’ he said.

I paused. ‘You don’t work on weekends. I do. And I’m guessing this is a possible job offer, therefore counting it as part of the workweek at least allows you a free meal covered as company’s expenses,’ I recited off my head. Too many times I have said that.

Mr. Williamson widened his eyes. ‘That’s brilliant! You’re right, let’s schedule for next Thursday.’

‘Friday.’

‘Friday. Wow, who taught you that?’

‘You did, sir.’

‘Well, I’m a genius, then.’

‘If only you were sober enough to realize that,’ I muttered as I finished writing on my planner. Louder, I replied. ‘Remember to save the day and respond to the man. Don’t keep him waiting.’

I walked back to the door. Mr. Williamson nodded his head. ‘Will do!’

With another sigh, I sat back on my chair, cracking my fingers before typing in the response to Maurizio Arrivabene on behalf of Mr. Williamson, and making sure to set reminders in his calendar for every day of the week until his tea date.

The pay is good, at least.

—

‘You should have seen him. I mean, he’s like a toddler!’ I complained from my spot on the couch.

‘I don’t know how you keep working like that, you’re basically a babysitter at this point,’ my mother said from the other side of the phone.

I hummed in agreement, looking up at my feet. They dangled from the other end of the couch, as I took up the entire space by laying down. ‘Honestly, I don’t know what to do. I told Rosanna from Human Resources to notify me whenever there was a new vacancy, but it’s been months.’

‘Honey, I can’t tell you what to do, but do you think head editor is the right job for you?’ she asked.

I stopped. ‘I think so. I mean, I’m good at it.’

‘Yes, but do you like it?’

I paused again.

That question had been roaming in my mind for months. At first, the job had been nice. Reading manuscripts for a living, correcting the mistakes, meeting with the authors, and getting to know them first-hand… Again, maybe historical non-fiction wasn’t what I originally envisioned my future like, but the pay was good enough to get me my own apartment and to live independently. At the rate the economy was going, I felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

But then Mr. Williamson had suddenly neglected his own job when his life started spiraling down, and I had been the unfortunate soul to try and collect the pieces of his broken person. I was suddenly managing, not only my life, but his, and needless to say, he wasn’t an easy person to handle. Despite the many conversations to get him to sober up, every morning was a complete wild card, not knowing whether he would even show up, and if he did, would he be conscious enough to work.

On the bright side, thanks to his many absences, I had learned how to manage the editorial department pretty much completely on my own. I knew the names of every single worker, even the janitors and the night guards working late shifts. I had written, rewritten, corrected, presented, contacted, hired, fired, and despite knowing I was perfect for said role, my heart still longed for something different. The reason why I even had studied Creative Writing all along.

‘But only writing doesn’t pay the bills’, Mr. Williamson had said one morning, a month into my newly appointed role as his assistant. And ever since then, I had almost forgotten about my own dream of becoming a novelist.

‘What do you think I should do, then?’ I asked her.

‘Honey, you’re old enough to make your own decisions,’ she laughed.

‘Mom, I need your advice! I know I’m old enough but right now I’m at a crossroads!’ I complained, lifting my arm and covering my eyes with it.

‘You know what I think about writing for a living,’ she mused.

I groaned. ‘Yeah, I know it’s not your cup of tea, but I promise, I’m good. Great, even.’

‘I wouldn’t know, you never let me read anything.’

‘Well, yeah, it’s embarrassing.’

‘You need to get over that eventually, honey.’

‘It’s easier said than done,’ I sighed. ‘Besides, everything I have written so far was just reports and boring commercial synopsis for historical books, unless you really wanna read that…’

‘Honey, whatever you choose to do, just make sure it makes you happy. And that at least you’re getting money out of it.’

I took a deep breath. ‘I think I need to sleep this one over.’

‘It’s probably for the best. Let me know, whatever you do,’ my mother said. ‘I gotta go now, book club starts in fifteen minutes and I still gotta walk by Linda’s house to return her copy. Will you be fine?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Good. Wait, your dad wants to talk.’

‘Great.’

‘Hey, chicken pie!’ I chuckled at my dad’s voice.

‘Hi, dad,’ I smiled.

His tone was excited. ‘You’re seeing the practice?’

I nodded before answering, my eyes glancing at the TV, where the first day of race weekend was airing from the Yas Marina circuit. ‘Of course, I am. Not paying much attention, though.’

‘Well, nothing interesting so far. You wanna FaceTime tomorrow for quali?’

‘Yes, please,’ I groaned in delight. ‘I wish I could be there to watch it with you, though.’

I could hear his smile through the phone. ‘It’s alright, chicken pie, I know you’re busy lately. Everything alright with your boss?’

I could hear my mom yelling at him in the background of the call.

I bit my lip. ‘Ask mom, she got all the details. Shouldn’t you be leaving for book club too?’

It was his turn to groan. ‘Don’t remind me.’

I laughed. ‘What was it?’

‘To Kill a Mockingbird. No bird in it.’

I audibly laughed at him. ‘Please, don’t say that out loud, you’ll be banished from the club.’

‘Oh, what a pity would that be,’ he said in his most mischievous voice possible. ‘Wish me luck, Principessa.’

‘Ciao, Papà!’ I laughed, finally ending the call in a fit of giggles.

Shaking my head, I leaned my head back on the pillow and continued watching the practice, remembering the puzzling email addressed to Mr. Williamson.

Multiple explanations littered my head as to how on earth Mr. Williamson knew someone as Maurizio Arrivabene, both from such different spheres, but then again, Stephen Williamson had always been a renowned author and an even bigger editor. It was possible that both men had coincided at some point in history, but I tried not to dwell much on it. I had a week until I found out what the fuzz was about.

Groaning again once the free practice was over, I finally stood up from my couch and walked towards the small kitchen, opening the fridge in hopes to find something available to eat. Some leftovers caught my eye, and with a shrug, I took them out, threw them in the microwave, and sat down back on the couch once the food was warm enough to eat.

Browsing through HBO for something to see, I settled on my annual rewatch of Parks and Recreation, anything to get my mind off the horrible week I just had.

My phone pinging broke me out of my daze. Wiping my hand clean on my dirty pajamas, I quickly read over my friend Angela’s message.

‘You shouldn’t check Alec’s Instagram story, but I also think you should.’

With a frown I opened the app, seeing the familiar purple-ish circle around my ex-boyfriend’s face. The video was enough to bring a few tears to my eyes. His arm was around some other girl, and her crimson-painted lips left stains all over his cheek. His smile was wide, and he looked quite happy, wherever he was.

I rapidly closed the app off, throwing my phone to the other end of the couch, now in desperate need of a glass of wine just to forget what I had just seen.

Breaking up with Alec had been hard, but seeing him off with someone else was even harder. Not only two months ago we were talking about living together, and now it felt like I was seeing a stranger through my screen. My job had been slowly taking over every aspect of my personal life too, and while I couldn’t blame Alec for feeling neglected all of a sudden, especially after three years together, it still hurt. I still missed him every night, morning, and any other time in between. He had been my best friend for so long, and one of my main pillars ever since I stumbled out of college, completely lost, and in frantic need of guidance in the adult world. We were both still kids that had become adults together, and I was having a harder time than I wanted to admit to trying to forget about him.

Taking a big breath, I closed my eyes, touching the soft couch in an attempt to ground myself.

Big breath in, big breath out.

After a few minutes, I felt myself calm enough, resuming my dinner and my binge-watching, now more than ever desperate for sleep after the intense day. Technically I had every weekend off, but I still had many manuscripts and emails to send the next day, thankfully from the comfort of my own home.

It was only in bed that I allowed myself to relax, turning off my phone, and grabbing my crochet set. It was a habit I had picked up lately, something so far out of my field of expertise, yet so relaxing once I got the hang of things. Working on my silly bucket hat every night before sleep was pretty much the highlight of my existence. And I was so invested in it, that only after I was finally done with it I realized I had been sitting for three hours in the same position, my eyelids dropping and my back hurting. Getting the needles out of the way, I finally laid in bed, and it only took a few minutes to fall soundlessly asleep.

—

A week later I found myself in the same position, crocheting a summer top in my bed, late in the evening after yet another exhausting week, when I received Mr. Williamson’s message.

‘Book a flight to Italy. We’re going to Maranello.’

Next chapter

General Taglist: @angiewhoohooo, @azaleaniath

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female!reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc imagine #formula 1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic

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joyus-whimsy · 4 months

Text

Autism, special interests and Red Dead Redemption 2 (spoiler free)

Towards the end of last year I started properly playing Rdr2. I’ve had the game for years but never really devoted the time to getting into it. Now, I write this before I start the last quest of the epilogue, I’m so engrossed in this game. I feel an intense emotional attachment to Arthur and the game in general. This kind of attachment isn’t something I’ve let myself feel for a while.

I haven’t let myself have special interests because it annoys or weirds out people around me. I used to try and fight it, but I don’t want to anymore. I’ve realised a lot from deconstructing internalised and social ableism, (the countless cringe compilations lined with autistic people being really into something is a prime example.)

I’ve a playlist for Arthur with music that reminds me of him, reminds me of that intense emotional connection. It’s sorta my way of sitting in and feeling how I do instead of trying to have ‘normal’ attachments to things. I used to be (and to a point I still am) scared of this intense ‘obsessive’ feeling, but I miss having special interests. I’ve felt like a shell of myself for a while and depression sorta took over my life for a while.

I see the way my constant talk about rdr2 annoys the people around me, but I don’t know if I care that much anymore. That being said, last year I made a friend that I got along with instantly and they have quickly become my closest friend. They are also neurodivergent and I’m so thankful for them. They honestly inspire me with how much they love their special interests, and I’ve been making sure they know that I don’t find it annoying. I try to get into what they like because I love listening to and sharing people’s passions. But something new happened when I was sending them heaps of stuff about Red Dead, they were genuinely interested. They said they wished they could come and play it with me (it’s summer here and we both have summer jobs so have been unable

I think I’m done putting other peoples comfort above my own, and this is just one example of that. I’m done trying to fit in because I’m inherently different. I’m autistic and I have ADHD and I’m starting to learn how to ask for accommodations and advocate for myself. I’m learning to stop running from and masking my neurodivergence because it has only tired me out. I’m glad and proud that I’m doing this, and I feel like I’m slowly getting myself back.

I’m still scared, but I’m just going to keep going, I’m done running away. Frankly, I’m proud of that.

I’m trying to find people on here that I can talk to about it. People that like this game in the same way I do. So if you check out my blog and like the kinds of things I post or repost, maybe we could start a gc or something?

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trans-androgyne · 10 months

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I would appreciate if people read the relevant parts of this before sending an ask or following me:

Hi, I am an autistic transmasculine non-binary lesbian of color & mostly use they/them but he is fine. I do not identify as a man or woman, and calling me one is misgendering. I am fine with boy/most other masc terms. I first & foremost identify as an androgyne.

About the blog: This is a sideblog dedicated to discussing trans issues & the trans community, especially regarding transandrophobia & exorsexism. I will mostly be reblogging & venting, but am also willing to engage in good faith discussion. || Block the “anonsense” tag if you don’t want to see me respond to people arguing in bad faith, misconstruing what I’ve said, & other things of that nature. || I am terrible at responding to asks. So sorry in advance. Always feel free to nudge me or send them again. || I hate the infighting within the trans community & love all my trans siblings. I’m not a transunitist but I support where they’re coming from. || Do not argue about the semantics of transandrophobia to me. I will no longer engage. || I use the term “antimasculinism” to describe the prevailing belief that men and mascs are inherently more violent, aggressive, predatory, emotionally stunted, hypersexual, and dangerous, and the subsequent sexist treatment of men. I prefer this over “misandry” as that term has been too poisoned by anti-feminist MRAs to me. I am also moving away from “androphobia” now that people have pointed out it’s an existing term people need support and spaces for.

Interacting with me here: Do not call me pet names, especially feminine ones. I do not care what they mean to you or whether they are considered gender neutral where you’re from. || I’m autistic & use tone tags sometimes. Say anything ableist at all or support cringe culture & you’re gone. || Please don’t talk religion on my page unless it’s about advocating for marginalized religious groups (ex: Jewish folks).

“DNI”: Radfems of any kind. I do not care how trans-inclusive you think your radical feminism is. It isn’t. Genocide denialists; free Palestine. Zero tolerance for general bigotry, and shittiness. If you think the being mean is funny, something to be proud of, or your right as a minority then I do not trust you in the slightest and I don’t want you in my space. I’m pretty radically inclusive of all queer people and care a lot about destigmatizing misunderstood groups. So, if you’re shitty to any queer groups, people with personality disorders, people with low/no empathy, people with psychosis, systems of any kind, people with paraphilias, or anyone else for traits outside their control, get the fuck out of here.

Accessibility: I do my best to tag triggering topics & provide all images with image descriptions; if I ever have something with audio I will be sure it has captions. I put the underwater filter on posts to differentiate them from my words, but try to provide alt text. Please let me know if I miss anything or if you want to request an accessibility feature I’m not aware of! Thank you <3

My personal blog: @corezy

The transandrophobia discord server can be found on r/transandrophobia or by DMing me. Thanks!

#intro post

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bi-lullaby · 4 months

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So I really loved the PJO show. I wish we get a second season, and a fourth and so on all the way through heroes of olympus because it’s just so good. If you feel like reading my (NOT spoiler free) rambles:

- Percy’s loyalty and dedication to his mom is just so integral to his character and they RESPECT THAT.

- I really like what I’ve seen mentioned about how both casting wise and storyline changes wise there have been some adaptations that were less “lol lets change it” and more to connect better with today’s audience and cultural paradigm. Like Annabeth being blonde because of the stereotype of “the dumb blonde” that was so prevalent in the era the books were released versus her being Black showcasing the extreme undermining Black women go through instead, or Luke being less 00s/10s boyband boy looking and more tiktok softboy looking now, but also Sally being less 100% perfect and more active in the story and upbringing of Percy as both a hero and a demigod and Luke being less cool and detached and more… Sweet? Emotional?

- I did feel pretty meh about a few changes: Zeus immediately accepting that Kronos is scheming and is a threat (Ik they couldn’t know if they’ll get that far but it cuts the stakes of the third book by a lot if there’s no pressing time limit to get Artemis back to Olympus to convince the Gods into action if they’ve been Doing Stuff for two years now, and even the second book loses a little in regards to the behind-the-scenes political climate that leas to it being what it was). Luke going to every length not to kill Percy is such a 180° from the books it was a little jarring and I feel it cuts out how much of a Menace he was and how bitter/jealous he was of Percy. Like we could have seen their bonding and even Luke trying to recruit him but I’d still have liked to see the scorpion scene so the betrayal and anger and wariness Percy feels is that much deeper and bitter and personal like in the books.

- I’m of two minds about the entire Gabe arch. Like on one hand I do understand toning him down (including his demise) for the public’s intended audience, I even think it kinda goes along the adapting to new times by showing that the useless, insensitive, disrespectful aspect of a bad husband is harmful just as the “darker”, more explicitly abusive/exploitative and mean drunk book version, but on the other I feel like he had such an impact on Percy in the books (he’s literally the Oracle’s “mirage” for his prophecy, he thinks of his smell in tartarus), and I really had loved the line “you’ll fail to save what matters most in the end” coming true because Sally saves herself - although the post I’ve seen about his fate showcasing how his lack of respect was his doom did make me appreciate it a little more.

- The only castings (or maybe it was the directing and styling of them more so) that I can’t really get behind are Hades and Hephaestus. Hades felt like they were going for the Disney’s Hercules comedic relief one in a slightly toned down costume. None of the gravitas and intimidation, he didn’t feel like a god at any point. And Hephaestus was just… So different. He’s supposed to be a deeply secluded, antisocial, gruffy mechanic who’s self sequestered by his inventions and forges. The show version looked like an eccentric professor more than anything imo. Which I feel could be one modern retelling of Hephaestus in another series, but isn’t the one we had and, imo, doesn’t go as well with the rest of the vibe. Which is a shame bc I do feel like Timothy could have been used in a way that would work fantastically for those vibes.

- Lin Manuel Miranda’s, acting actually shocked me. I never really had a Hamilton phase but I am on tumblr so I was expecting something cringe and honestly, I thought it was good (and to bring it back to Hades: Hermes in sweats and a hoodie actually gave me the feeling of “this is merely a cover to a deep well of power” than Hades in his suit and dark colors ever did)

- Meanwhile, perfect Ares casting. Yes this man is beefing with (and losing to) 12yos but he’s also an ancient force that revels in bloodshed and carnage.

- Annabeth from the show encapsulates the character so well while also bringing her own notes to it. Like as time went on back in my peak pjo days I felt she got “Hermionified” by the fandom too much? And I lost sight of how fond I was of her but the show (and having reread the books) really rekindled that and made me remember why she is a force to be reckoned with and also someone that must be protected at all costs. I cannot express enough how much my fondness was reignited.

- Like I feel this could be a whole post but basically I feel the books showcase the “ideal” characteristics the gods and their kids could have versus how they wind up twisted into something else (Percy’s sea-like indomitable spirit vs several of his brethren’s ruthlessness and disregard for what’s good) and Annabeth feels like, beyond amassing knowledge for it’s sake… She wants to actually Learn, and in the show maybe even to a deeper degree than in the books and it is endearing and very enthralling.

- On that note, Leah, Walker… This is supposed to be a SLOWburn goddamit. Like in the books you can see where it’s headed but in the show they have such silly crushes I can barelyy stand it. My children.

- Speaking of Walker that kid IS Percy like you cannot convince me otherwise. Disney farmed him for this role.

- I actually really loved Poseidon having a british accent? Idk, something about england and nautical exploration and it feeling older and more… Powerful? Like the ocean

- And Zeus had all the “I’m the god amongst kings and king amongst gods” that I’d have expected from him. He was crackling with power and that was beautiful to see. What a tragic loss.

- Grover is my precious child (although I do wish we had gotten the silly, goat like details of him like eating cans and making the bleating noises). And since the last book I finished rereading was the Battle of the Labyrinth (where I cried like a baby at Pan’s death) watching this sweetheart getting all excited with his literal flower searches license? Made me wanna weep.

- Overall most of my criticisms that came to mind besides the alterations I cited came from being hushed because of too few eps and those being too short. Really really hope the next season (fingers crossed) we’ll get like, 15+ eps (and/or at least longer eps) so we can really sink into the meat and potatoes of it all.

#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjo show #my thoughts #text #spoilers #pjo spoilers

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