#aversion sounds harsh but you know what I mean | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

freeuselandonorris · 3 months

Note

☰ for Monday, with the “who did this to you” trope? Love your fics <33

(from the fic ask game)

HI ANON i am so sorry this has taken me a million years to answer, i started weirdly overthinking it??

my understanding of the ‘who did this to you?’ trope is it’s very hurt/comfort-centric, which is not a genre i write very often (hence probably why i overthought this for so long lmao).

if i was to approach a remix of monday from this angle i think i’d like to do it from lando POV and explore more of why he’s so insecure and why it takes him so long to trust that oscar genuinely really likes him and isn’t just looking for a quick fuck to take the edge off. there’d be more of a focus on lando’s past relationships and in particular how he went from being a slightly nerdy kid (like, he looked twelve until he was about twenty) to suddenly being a millionaire heartthrob with a huge social media following. but he also self-describes as a simp (in the lando norris vs slang video) and clearly wants to be in a “real” relationship rather than just fucking about, so i’d look at what happened to him to make him so cautious with his heart.

proooobably this would end up with past dando or carlando? i have a mild aversion to carlos so i’d probably go for fuckboy daniel ngl.

i think it’d take oscar quite a long time to actually get round to asking lando what happened — partly because he’s got a bit of an attitude of “well, lando will tell me in his own time if it’s important to him” but also because there’s a bit of him that doesn’t really want to know, especially because he’s got a pretty good idea it involves another driver. he’d probably bring it up pretty idly, in the end — lando would make some veiled comment about how netflix would have creamed their collective pants if they’d known the half of it while oscar’s scrolling past DTS trying to find something to watch, and oscar would very casually… actually, y’know what.

Lando feels Oscar go still next to him and mentally kicks himself. Might’ve known Oscar wouldn’t let that one drop.

“So are you, like.” Oscar wets his lips and shifts on the bed, curling up so Lando’s tucked further into his chest. Lando presses himself back, drawing Oscar’s arm around him. “I dunno. Did something happen? With Dan.”

Lando closes his eyes, considers his options. It’s tempting to squirm back against Oscar’s body, press his arse into his crotch and slip Oscar’s hand under the hem of his T-shirt until he forgets the line of questioning, forgets he was saying anything at all. It’s mad, really, the way he responds: Lando only has to pull his shirt up, bite his lip a certain way, and he’ll have Oscar distracted and reaching for him, even now. It’s been months. Lando’s experienced it before, that first flush of desire when he can use his body to control how someone feels about him. It rarely lasts, though, once the novelty wears off.

Which is sort of the point.

He sighs, aware it sounds a bit huffy, and picks up his phone so he can flick through his notifications while he speaks. “I mean, I guess? It was just stupid, though.”

Oscar breathes behind him, slow and deliberate. He hums into Lando’s hair, strokes a thumb over the ticklish spot on Lando’s waist, the dip just above the ridge of muscle that delineates his hip.

Lando swipes through notifs from Discord, Instagram, iMessage, WhatsApp, Reddit, Sky Sport. Dismissing each without seeing it. He laughs, and it comes out all wrong, harsh in the back of his throat and defensive. God. Wet as fuck. “It was just — I mean, he was fucking miserable, you saw him. So I guess he just wanted a pick-me-up, y’know.”

“Right,” Oscar says, voice unreadable. He’s so fucking blank sometimes. Lando fights the urge to turn round and scrutinise his face, opens his emails instead and starts deleting anything that doesn’t look vital.

“He said,” Lando says, aiming to deliver it as a joke. “‘I’m straight, but I bet you suck dick like a girl anyway’. Like. What does that even mean?”

Oscar’s thumb stills, just for a moment, then resumes its slow path. “I know that’s offensive, but I can’t tell if it’s sexist or homophobic or both.”

Lando makes a disgruntled sound of agreement. “Yeah, well, whatever. It was — whatever. Wasn’t anything.”

“You said,” Oscar says mildly. “But I can see why you’d… Why it’d make you cautious.”

Lando sighs. Thinks of Luisa, showing him screenshots, her face streaked with tears. Watching the comments roll in, badly spelled threats he didn’t even bother reporting. The way Carlos never quite relaxed around him once people started tagging them in stupid ship videos. Googling how do you make someone sign an nda locked in an unfamiliar bathroom, mouth sour with vodka, head spinning. Waking up at 5am in lockdown, Max hyperventilating next to him. The girl from Raya he’d sent flowers to, trying to do the thing properly and be romantic, only to find she’d blocked him ten minutes after he got the Your package was successfully delivered email.

“It wasn’t him,” Lando says, locking his phone and putting it face down on the nightstand. He turns, tangling his legs between Oscar’s and leaning in to nip at his jaw, breathing in the familiar smell of Oscar’s basic aftershave. Oscar's arms tighten around him. His cheeks curve into a smile beneath Lando's mouth. “It doesn’t matter.”

#hopefully this baby ficlet makes up for my tardiness in replying!#think it's unblocked me after a few days of feeling frustrated with writing so hooray for that #apologies to dan i needed a villain #mctwinks #fic meta #answered #mondayverse #prompt fill

55 notes · View notes

starseneyes · 1 year

Text

Chenford - Lucy Chen / Tim Bradford - The Rookie - Season 5 - Ep 16

"Exposed" AKA "That Bradford"

Valentine's Day is pushed a week in the universe of The Rookie, but since I'm still not sure what year we're in on the show, that's just fine by me!

SPOILER ALERT: Spoilers are like sugar for me. See, some people love sugar and hate spoilers. I'm the opposite (unless it's macarons or carrot cake). So, if you're spoiler-averse, run. I'll also be spoiling everything that came before. You've been forewarned!

Ready to see how Tim and Lucy's first Valentine's as a couple pans out? Me, too! Let's dive in.

Chenford In Lucy's Bed

No music to lead us into tonight's episode. Only the sounds of the streets. Honking. Cars. Barking dogs. Crickets that have apparently gotten into Lucy's apartment only.

But, anyway, we're not listening to a jamming soundtrack. We're listening to life. It's the sounds a sleeping person might hear in the night.

That's what makes the first sound we hear so jarring. We are with Tim and Lucy in that moment, the harsh buzzing sound of a vibrating, moving phone atop a nightstand.

They've immersed us in this world with them.

And, before I get too swept away... Tim and Lucy in Lucy's bed! To be honest, my very first thought was, "How does he fit in that bed?!".

Of course it's doable, but I've never shared a bed with someone taller than me. Matthew and I are almost the same height! And he complains because I like my feet at the bottom and he likes his head at the top. Learning to share a blanket has been a feat in our marriage!

But Tim and Lucy seem to be sharing the bed well enough—except Lucy is on his side.

Look, it's her bed, so she gets first rights to choosing a side. But I still think it's hilarious they both usually sleep on that side of the bed.

The buzzing sound wakes them. And I gotta ask Lucy what kind of battery she's got in that phone, because it can't be the standard model.

Girlfriend has that phone in her hand all the time during the day, and here she doesn't even have a charge cord in it overnight. That's witchcraft!

"Who is it?" "I don't know" "Hello?" "Loca, you gotta stop texting..."

Lucy jumps up fast. It only takes a second for the wheels to start moving, and she leaps to her dresser, tugging out clothes.

And… I kinda hope a drawer or two belongs to her man. Just sayin’.

"What's happening?" "PUC I trained with distress call. He needs a covert rescue." *Tim sits up* "What are you doing?" "Backing you up."

There's no hesitation in this man, and I can I hear her "thank you" in her look. These two are a team. And while he knows she can handle herself, they both know it's better to have backup.

Lucy's Driving Tim's Ride

Alright, I gotta laugh a little, because my first thought I wrote on this scene (no joke) is, "All about putting Tim in small places today." Seriously. We've taken possibly the tallest member of the cast and put him into all the tiny places and it's cracking me up.

Now that we've gotten that out of the way. Can. We. Talk. About. Lucy!?!

She rolls up into this situation completely in characters, already deep in her backstory and ready to help her friend out of a jam. It's great to get to see her use her UC chops, again.

"Damn You came in hot. Damn." "All clear."

Lucy makes it clear she's not alone. That's a good thing.

Also, I saw a lot of people over on the Twitterverse commenting on him calling her "hot", but this might be a language barrier since this is a turn of phrase. It usually has to do with coming in "guns blazing" or in an otherwise crazy manner.

He's not calling her hot. Well... not yet.

"I'm impressed you managed to scrounge up a backup this fast." "Yeah, I mean, it helps he was sleeping in my bed." "Oh. Oh, you're that Bradford."

Excuse me!? That Bradford?! As in... she talked about Tim!?

"Curious to hear what that means." "No."

I want to know, too! Was Lucy talking about Tim at UC when she was still dating Chris? What was being said that finding out he was in her bed made it all make sense?

Like, hearing "Bradford" didn't click it. It was that he was in her bed.

Did she not talk about Chris at all because she was at UC School and didn't feel the need to fill everyone in on the boyfriend she was bored with? I mean, I get it. I didn't mention my boyfriend when I first met Matt.

No, I wasn't devising a cheating plot or anything. I simply didn't mention the guy because I knew that I was breaking up with him next time I saw him.

Of course, I didn't anticipate Matthew asking me out before that, but "Rejection Day" became the day he proposed three years later, so it all worked out alright for him, I suppose.

And it all worked out for Lucy and "that Bradford", too.

There better be some fics out here that fill in the blanks, because this is another one of those episodes where I have a lot of question marks remaining long after the credits roll.

"Damn it's good to see you hot pants. " "Hot pants." "It's an inside joke."

Inside jokes I get, but it seems like she might explain that one to Tim sometime. Like, I had a nickname at uni from my buddy Sam. We never had interest in one another, but he liked to call me Hot Stuff.

That is... until his Dance Appreciation class had to sit in on my Modern Dance class and he saw me in dance tights. Henceforth, I was Ghetto Booty.

Look, I'm Hispanic and in my thighs and bum... it shows.

No, Matthew never called me either name. So, I get having nicknames and weird in-jokes with someone you'd never be interested in dating. But I do hope she clued Tim in later.

Wesley Hires a Bristow

Is this Sydney's second secret sister? Fellow Alias fans know what I mean. But, as soon as I heard the name I started chuckling aloud, hoping it was a reference.

"You're kidding. Thanks." "Kidding about what" "Uh nothing."

What the hell just went down? Because on this show "nothing" never means nothing. Tim is clearly upset about something.

"You left so early." *arm touch* "I had this whole Valentine's breakfast planned."

D'aww. I mean, that's super cute. I'm kinda sad that Tim missed out on it, but I'm also eager for Tim to cook for Lucy. It's one of those things that I love about them—they both cook.

When Matthew and I met he claimed he could cook one things—eggs. Spoiler Alert: he could not cook eggs.

"Uh, you were up late. I let you sleep."

Marry him. Immediately. That is seriously husband material, right there.

Like, one of the sweetest things Matthew can do for me is let me sleep in. Even before we had kids, he'd let me sleep in and I treasured it.

Lucy, marry that man as soon as you can. He's a keeper!

He's also super on edge. He's looking all around like he doesn't know how to feel comfortable in his own skin.

"We didn't keep you up, did we? " "No, it's fine." *she stops him with a touch* "Hey. Are you okay?" "Yeah. Fine."

You are not fine. You are so fucking far from fine that "fine" is in another zip code. And Lucy knows it.

This girl speaks Tim like no other. So when her man's upset, she knows it. Remember, she "rode long enough with" Tim to know when he's upset. And Tim is upset.

But right now, he wants to focus on work.

"Finally. I'll get right to it."

Grey was not happy Chenford was late getting in. Yikes! Just how late did he let her sleep in!?

"Bradford. Chen. Hold back."

I can hear the kids in elementary school now. "Oooohhh, Lucy and Tim are in truuuubullll!"

In reality, it's just Tim. And poor Tim is already on-edge, and you can hear it coming out in his conversation with Grey.

"I want metro to be ready to move on these guys at a moment's notice." ... "That's why you'll be riding with Chen and Foster today, so there'll be no delays."

From the promos, I was curious how we ended up with these two riding together, again. And, I'm not mad at it, at all!

Shop Talk has been a big deal with these two over the years. So, I'm sure it'll be juicy.

"Everybody adores me, right?" *shoulder touch* "Yup."

Or... not. Tim's barely staying a thing even when he has the chance to compliment his lady.

He's not happy. Lucy is trying to be cordial to her friend and also get through to her boyfriend, but right now attempting both isn't helping her with Tim.

Lucy pulls away from Tim and turns to talking work, which she hopes might work better on Tim. Whatever's bothering him, it's deep. She's going to have to ease him into it.

"We broke up. Well, she broke up with me."

Very similar dialogue to the "Tim tells Lucy about the Ashley breakup" scene. It jumped out at me immediately. I'm not sure if that was an unintentional happenstance, or a reference to the fact that Noah simply wasn't with the right person.

Your guess is as good as mine.

"I'm starting to think the undercover life isn't conducive to a happy relationship."

Tim's. Face. Because he knows all about this. Tim was married to a UC and it didn't go well. And while I think it's a little harsh to blame UC on a relationship ending, we're building quite the use case reference here.

Nyla and her ex. Tim and his ex. Noah and his ex.

If the show's trying to make a point with this, I'm suddenly nervous about Tim and Lucy's path when I haven't been before.

Lucy deserves the chance to go deep cover if she wants it. And Tim would understandably have reservations.

I won't pretend I haven't fantasized about Season 5 ending with Lucy going deep cover and us coming back to Season 6 with a time-jump. But since we haven't yet heard word about Season 6 at all, I'm sitting here twiddling my thumbs and hoping Chenford simply survive until the end of the season.

Look, I've got a lot of ship trauma. I want to fully trust, but like my friend Tim, here, I'm not always the best at trust.

"Well, I mean, that probably depends on the couple." "Is that why you're still on Patrol?"

Oooh. Noah just accused Lucy of putting her career on pause for Tim. Yikes.

And, to Lucy's point, I haven't seen her offered a lot of UC this season. It's not like she's been turning offer after offer down, fending off assignments with a stick.

Lucy loves UC and she definitely wants to do it. It's true that she might not be going after those assignments because she's caught in the throes of new love and wants to get this on a solid footing first.

And I think that's important. Because, I feel a big Lucy UC assignment coming. Yes, my feelings could be as unreliable as the Psychic Network, but it does make sense narratively.

"...you were by far the most talented cop at UC school. Be a shame if you didn't take the plunge."

Tim glances over at Lucy, and she has her "pensive" face on. She's considering Noah's words, and I think it's fair that she does.

Look, Tim's advanced his career (unknowingly with Lucy's help) and it's about time Lucy had the opportunity to advance hers.

I'm not a fan who's ready for Tim and Lucy to settle down in a three bedroom home with a meyer lemon tree in the backyard tending babies all day.

And I say this lovingly as a very active mother of three. Lucy deserves the chance to go after what she wants out of her career. I'm blessed to have the kind of husband who supports me working and going after my passions.

I very famously turned down a steady gig to go freelance almost six years ago. I told him I thought it was a better choice. His response? "I disagree, but I support your decision."

Husband of the year, right there. I want Lucy to feel fulfilled career-wise. But I have a feeling this is going to be a future source of angst for Tim and Lucy—and rightfully so.

Tim's reservations are completely understandable. I mean, we've already mentioned the three relationships in their friend circle negatively impacted by UC.

Now, was UC the contributing factor to these relationships ending? Probably not. But it is a commonality that can cloud the fact that each of these relationships likely had other issues.

But I can completely understand how Tim might miss those subtleties. And that's going to be a source of conflict for these two, I think. We'll see if I'm right... only a handful of episodes left in the season!

"Why are you so cranky? First Valentine's Day. You should be basking in the glow of new love." "That's right. What are you guys doing tonight?" "We are not talking about Valentine's Day plans on an open channel."

Tim appreciates that, at least. Look, I love these scenes where the Found Family all get to interact, even if it's only over the radio. But, he has a point, and Lucy comes in to back him up.

They've got each other's backs... even when one of them is obviously pissed and closed off.

But Lucy watches Tim as Grey talks. She's trying to figure him out, because he's barely looking at her. He's barely talking.

And while we all know that Tim isn't the most talkative of guys in the Shop, he usually talks to Lucy. Right now, he's erected an invisible wall between them, and while Lucy can't see it, she can feel the heat of the electricity running through it.

*arm touch* "Out with it." "What?" "What is wrong with you today?" "Nothing." "Bull. "

First off, on this show nothing is ever nothing. Second, have you ever wished that they could just say bullshit on network television? Like, I know there's S&P to deal with, but wouldn't it feel good!?

I remember how excited we all were when Mulder could say "dicking around" in the first X-Files movie when we saw it in theaters. Yes, I'm that old.

But Melissa O'Neil puts as much as she can behind that "bull" so we totally know Lucy Chen is thinking the rest. Like usual, Lucy's calling Tim on his shit.

"Is it Noah? Are you jealous?"

Not like usual, she's actually wrong about what's bothering Tim.

"This is about you going behind my back to get me into Metro." "I did not... " *look from Tim*

Oooh, he's pissed. And, look, I know I talked a lot about wanting Tim to find out he was loved, but finding out that his girlfriend went behind his back to manipulate the situation when he thought he'd earned his place? Ooof. Yeah, that stings.

Think about the moment he got to tell Lucy he got into Metro. He was over-the-moon. He talked about the "rockstar review" he received from Grey and Lucy confirmed it by telling him that he was amazing.

He actually wanted to go out and celebrate himself. Do you know how big that is for someone who grew up with trauma and abuse?

I still struggle with buying myself a dress that isn't off the thrift store rack because I don't know if it's worth it to spend money on myself after I was called selfish as a child. Tim had a father who beat into his head (literally) that he was worthless, without value, and broken.

But for one fleeting second, Tim felt like everything was right in the world. And now that memory is tainted.

Because he didn't earn his place. Right? His girlfriend manipulated it, word has somehow gotten out, and now he has to worry about his manipulation because nobody's going to believe he's good enough.

Tim is so in his own head about this that he can't see it through Lucy's lens. He only has his own, and he's frustrated and fumbling.

"I had to do something. You were miserable riding that desk. " "Okay. Fine. But how do you think that makes me look?" "What?" "How does that make me look? My girlfriend has to solve my problems for me?"

Tim relying on others has never been his strong suit. We know he doesn't ask for help. He doesn't think he deserves it, too often, but he also thinks it makes him look weak.

Again, this is side effects of the trauma he received as a child backed up by a society that emphasizes strong, tough men who don't cry because somehow emotion is a sign of weakness.

Also, can we talk about Tim calling her his girlfriend!? All I need now is for Lucy to introduce Tim as her boyfriend. Yes, I know she told Noah that Tim was in her bed, but I like hearing the labels from her because she's the one who always shied away from them.

Tim is different. But right now Tim is pissed.

"Please tell me this is not some fragile male ego thing." "That is not what's happening here."

He stated it at the top of the conversation—she went behind his back. She lied to him. She feigned ignorance when he told her about it. She manipulated the situation and he was left to find out about it from someone else.

I always wanted Tim to find out... but not like this. Yikes.

I also think Tim might feel like his place was handed to him instead of earned. He is mad that others are going to look at him like we do university students whose parents bribed the admissions' office... with skepticism that they should be there at all.

We, gentle readers, know that's not how it went down. But Tim is hurting and often when we are hurting we shut others out and stew. Tim's practically the king of that.

"Come on! We were just trying to help." "We? Who else was involved?" "Did I say we? Me. Me was trying to help. I was trying to help."

Girl, your ass was just saved by your Backseat Buddy. Although, listening to Lucy talk like Elmo for a second had me rolling.

Tim passes a glare Lucy's way, but she completely misses it. And something about the look that Eric Winter puts into his eyes is completely different from all the glaring Tim has done at Lucy in this Shop before.

And, yes, I'm aware that sounds mental. But it definitely feels more... personal. More raw. More hurt than angry.

Tim's Office

Before we go any further, I have to compare this to 5x09 when she stepped into Grey's office to tell Tim that she'd released the Fourth String Quarterback from her life.

She knocked at the door before coming in. But, here, she slips in as easily as she would her own home. There's comfort, here. Even though they're fighting, she doesn't feel unwelcome. She doesn't feel out of place.

And that confidence in their relationship is sexy as hell. Lucy isn't spiraling because they had a fight. She knows they will get through this. That they are worth it.

Tim's the one who said it back in 5x08 and now they are living it. Tim and Lucy are worth the risk.

"I get why you're angry. Even though you were miserable as court liaison and I spear-headed an almost impossible five person trade to save you, I shouldn't have done it all behind your back."

That was the first thing he said when he told her what was wrong. He was left out of the loop. He was lied to. By the one person he trusts most.

Remember how much I hated all the lying in that episode? Lying catches up to you, even if it's well-intentioned. I guess I don't feel so weird about being so bothered by it seeing that Tim is similarly bothered.

And Tim appreciates Lucy understanding why he is bothered.

"Is that an apology?" "Yes." "Good." "Noo."

I'm having whiplash between so many episodes... Post DOD chat and 5x09 first scene for the "Good". 5x08 for Lucy answering "yes" then "no" to Tim.

Seriously, I think my neurons temporarily short-circuited on that one, because I missed most of the rest of this the first time around, even with subtitles on (because I transcribe live while I watch).

"Because you never would have let me work my magic if I had told you. And then I would have ended up transferring to another station to save you from yourself. And... this worked out so much better. And if you can't see that I'm sorry not sorry."

I'm dying laughing at this. Simply because Lucy started as many sentences with "And" in a short span as I always do. Seriously. Take a look at these Metas. I'm not unaware.

But this is also so her. And when she's being this damn cute, it's hard for Tim to be mad.

That, and she's right. This did work out well, and whatever temporary feelings he has about it, they'll disappear with time. Because he did earn his place. He is amazing. And Lucy acted with love, even if she might not have done it in the best way.

Lucy is more important than the job to him. We already know that.

"Okay..." *giggle* "I accept your non-apology."

Oh, she knew she had him as soon as he cracked that smile. That's why she giggled. I love giggly-in-love-Lucy. It's one of my favorite things.

Like, Melissa O'Neil has imbued Lucy with the cutest giggle known to man, and I smile every time I hear it. It's like Pavlov's Bell, except instead of salivating, I'm beaming.

"Good." "Good."

Are we in a performance of The Court Jester, here? Much as I love that movie, I wasn't expecting to be thrown into it with Chenford. Not ever.

Wow, I need to watch that movie, again, soon. Trust me. Danny Kaye is a treasure.

"So, are we going to dinner or what?" "We are. But your outfit is missing a little something." "What?"

Our girl is fiiiine, Tim. What the hell are you talking about?

Lucy's eyes fall on the box, and she's completely surprised. Remember, this is the girl who had to convince Tim to buy his girlfriend Rachel a birthday present.

Valentine's isn't even a cake holiday, and Tim's here with a jewelry box for his woman?

Endgame. Energy. Tim and Lucy are meant to be, forever and ever.

"Happy Valentine's Day."

Lucy looks at that man like she's ready to marry him right there in his office. The nicest thing he's gifted her before was a sweet final review. And when it comes to picking presents, he's been pretty awful.

Remember, Lucy has had a front-row view to his last three relationships. She didn't expect anything from Tim.

But it's not all those other women. It's Lucy. And since she's had a front-row seat in the past, she knows that this is different for Tim. Tim is doing something for her he wouldn't have done for the others.

And she knows that. She knows how much he loves her, even if they haven't yet said the words. And as she gazes up at him, savoring him before even glimpsing at the gift, she knows she loves him, too.

Because, no matter what he gave her, the gift is in the giving. Tim Bradford went out of his way to ensure she had a present to open. And she will remember how this moment feels the rest of her life.

And I'm now hyper-aware of all my "and" starting sentences.

Back to Tim and Lucy:

"Oh, wow. It's beautiful."

Whatever it is. Look, I don't mean to be cynical or critical, but I seriously have no idea what that necklace is, but I'm so happy Lucy loves it!

"Did you pick this out yourself?" "I did. is that shocking?" "No. You clearly have good taste."

Just wait until the ring, baby! Because we all know that can't be far behind!

And I'm not trying to marry them off, or anything. I'm just saying, we just got confirmation from the woman herself that Tim has good taste. So, when he takes a little trip to the ring counter, we know it's gonna be good.

And just as she once did with her best friend, who is now sadly gone, Lucy sweeps her hair out of the way so he can put the necklace around her neck.

Tim murmurs a "thank you" as Lucy starts to shift gears in her mind. He's standing amazingly close, his hands grazing her neck. He even ensures the charm is centered on her throat before pulling away.

That detail is so personal, and I'm curious if that was actor-choice, director-choice, or script-choice because it makes the moment for me.

"Do you want to skip dinner?"

No. She. Didn't. It's her "Do you wanna come in?" voice. Same cadence, too! Girl wants him just as bad now as she did then.

Tim looks to her, like he's briefly considering it.

"No. I'm hungry, and you're gonna need that fuel for later."

Chenford, meet makeup sex.

Tim touches her back as he shimmies out of his mini office (it really is the day for putting Timmy in Tiny places), leaving her breathless.

Her hand is already on her necklace, holding onto the charm—a physical touchstone to remind her of his love for her. Because he bought this gift for her.

The price tag doesn't matter. The intention does. He somehow did this surreptitiously as an act of love.

Lucy has never felt this loved. We know about the guy who made her sob in her car, the one who cheated on her while she was living with him, Nolan and his easy dumping of her, Emmett and his easy dumping of her, and then Curried Chris who loved an idea of her... not her.

Tim Bradford loves Lucy Chen. She smiles to herself as she follows after him because this mixed feeling of being turned on by an act of love is new. It's the layers that all her relationships before lacked.

Tim and Lucy walked into this relationship already very layered people with a layered relationship. So, it makes sense that their shared romance is also layered.

And they just survived their first fight as a couple. And they are stronger for it.

And... there are too many sentences starting with "and".

Thank you so much for reading and spending this time with me.

I've seen some folks on the Twitterverse complaining about a lack of kiss. Considering tonight might be the first time I remember seeing James and Nyla kiss, I'm not freaking out that we didn't get a kiss. We got a lot.

This episode was packed with Chenford moments. Sleeping together. Waking up together. Having each other's back. Lucy touching Tim every five seconds. First fight as a couple (because their first fight was the first day they met). A freakin' Valentine's Day gift, and it's a necklace. And Tim put it on her. And they're going to dinner, which means they've had reservations a while because they're a pill to get for big romance days.

#Chenford #Lucy Chen #Tim Bradford #Melissa O'Neil #Eric Winter #The Rookie #Meta #Lucy x Tim #Tim x Lucy

141 notes · View notes

ceruleanwhore · 1 year

Text

Ever since I started Clavis’ route and realized that Chev is definitely autistic and not just a miserable dick, that’s all I’ve been able to think about, so I’m making a post about it. The following is a list of stuff from him that seems 100% autistic to me. My qualifications here are just my “as*erger’s” diagnosis I got in 7th grade and the fact that just about every person I’ve ever known is neurospicy.

Hyperlexia, obviously. Normies don’t have entire personal libraries and do the Spencer Reid thing of reading fucking everything all the time and then remembering all of it after seeing it like once.

Callous, antisocial tendencies, lack of social skills and active avoidance of social interaction that makes it seem like he finds it challenging/tiring to perform social interactions successfully so he just avoids them altogether. This is not the same as being an introvert and like, the girls who get it get it, the girls who don’t don’t.

That really strong pattern recognition which allows him to easily make really accurate predictions and makes up a big chunk of what gets labeled as “genius.”

High intelligence, especially since it’s coupled with such a complete lack of social competency.

How harsh his expression is all the time, like he has a really bad case of RBF, makes it seem like he really just doesn’t bother masking at all since he has enough privilege and power that he doesn’t have to, which goes with his aversion to social interaction and his ability to successfully lead a whole ass faction in spite of being so socially inept.

I also think that the combo of the strong sense of justice and the tendency for black and white thinking that’s so characteristic of ASD could contribute to his ability to make tough calls most people couldn’t without seemingly any emotions getting in the way. For example, with Bloodstained Rose Day, he could deadass look at it like “well 1000 people is less than the whole fucking population so alright, go on and just kill them, it’s worth it” and not bat an eye because it’s objectively correct.

He could be especially perceptive due to like sensory sensitivities (idk how to say that so it doesn’t sound super redundant but you know what I mean), which could contribute to his ability to always know when someone is trying to kill him or detect poison or whatever the fuck else.

Now, I haven’t actually read his route yet so maybe I’m wrong but I really don’t think I am lol. Lmk what y’all think!

#ikepri #ikemen prince #chevalier #chevalier michel #chev #autism #autism spectrum #actually autistic #actually neurodivergent #its the neurodivergency #neurodiversity #neurodivergent #cybird #ikemen series #cybird otome #otome games

129 notes · View notes

suedesongs · 6 days

Text

These Are The Suede Songs 001: Early Recordings

Suede’s early trajectory is often described, especially by the band themselves, as “the world’s longest overnight success”. Four years of slogging the toilets of London, from playing humiliating gigs to, on one occasion, nobody at all, to appearing on the front page of Melody Maker, may sound quick, but in musical terms can feel like a lifetime. This was during the era of musical trends coming and going in rapid succession, a little like fashion microtrends today. Within those four years, Baggy and the Second Summer of Love, The Stone Roses and Spike Island, raves and ecstasy, made way for American grunge - precisely the opposite, and amongst this cultural shift, quietly grafting their way, were Suede.

Whilst there aren’t a great deal of surviving bootlegs or demos from this era, I still felt incredibly compelled to cover what I could find in a dedicated post. Research was rather fruitless at times, and I found much of the writing on this period of the band’s career to be marred (cough) by the insistence of male writers to throw all of their energy into a somewhat troubling obsession with what is perceived as the infamous Anderson-Frischmann-Albarn “love triangle”. I took to Twitter (or, blegh, X) to vent my frustrations, and received a reply from my friend Tasha who, much more eloquently than I, expressed how Justine Frischmann is viewed as merely an object in an interpersonal drama, rather than a fleshed out musician in her own right. Are women doomed to simply be accessories to their male counterparts? I find this disheartening when Frischmann is so integral to not only the Suede “story”, but, in my opinion, to what would go on to become the sound we all know, and love.

My analysis will frequently include my personal opinions, and should not be taken as definitive. Where necessary to the discussion of the songs, tidbits of info may be provided in order to “set the scene”. This series should not be used as a biography, but instead an exploration of a body of work. It will be by no means objective. I’m a massive Suede fan. I’ve travelled up and down the country for gigs, queued from as early as 6am for a coveted barrier spot, my cat is (in a roundabout way) named after an obscure Bloodsports-era B Side. I’m a self-professed fangirl. Having said this, I’ll do my best to not let this get in the way. And with all of the preliminaries seen to, we begin with,

Just A Girl (Anderson/Frischmann)

Though credited to Anderson-Butler, this light, airy folk ballad is reportedly the oldest surviving Suede tune, dating far before Bernard Butler joined. The version that appears online, and on the deluxe edition of the debut, is likely a home demo recorded by Brett Anderson and Justine Frischmann.

Anderson, in his memoir Coal Black Mornings, explains the titular girl, “north of England way”, is a Middlesborough-born Chemistry student called Emily, with whom he shared a flat on Daisy Bank road in Longsight, Manchester, in the year after he moved from Haywards Heath to the rainy industrial Northern city. ‘Just A Girl’ really couldn’t be set in any city other than Manchester. It describes the beginnings of a fond friendship, perhaps more, distinctly against the backdrop of a harsh, wet winter, overlooked by grey skies and red-bricked former warehouses. It’s the first, blushing, awkward flushes of young love. It’s leaving your University lectures at half past three when it’s already pitch dark. It’s when you say something you shouldn’t to the person you fancy after a few drinks. It’s huddling under the covers to stay warm, the excitement of closeness and companionship.

I typically have a complete, and near visceral, aversion to anything, musically or otherwise, that can be described as “twee”. Just A Girl, I feel, does undeniably dangle its harmonies and lyrical depictions of turning the page of one’s favourite book perilously close to the jaws of this accusation.Yet, I simply cannot bring myself to dislike it. Whilst musically competent, if a little naive, it’s sweet and genuine, and for that, it’s rather lovely.

There are already some allusions to Anderson’s later lyrical themes; the combination of love and tragedy as he laments how “it could have been so different if we’d only had more time”. Anderson, as we’ll explore, is rarely one to write a straight love song. No matter how they may seem, there is always a thread of tragedy, or drama, which underpins the affair and protects against it veering into saccharine territory.

For a few years now, I’ve cited the “ashtray eyes and bootlace ties” line to be a direct harbinger of some of Anderson’s later lyrics, most likely thinking of 2011's ‘Brittle Heart’,from his solo album Black Rainbows. However, this is in fact, lifted from Ian Drury’s ‘Sweet Gene Vincent’, more directly alluded to with Anderson and Frischmann lamenting how “Sweet Gene Vincent was never that good”.

According to Anderson, on regular rotation on the turntables of himself, Frischmann and Mat Osman around this time, were a band called The Lilac Time. Quoted in David Barnett’s comprehensive biography, Love And Poison, he describes them as “quite light, leftfield pop sort of thing (...) lots of major seventh chords”, and this influence is abundantly clear on ‘Just A Girl’, and would have possibly done even more had it made it to the studio around this time.

Frischmann’s, when she and Anderson met, record collection was largely comprised of folk music. In an irritating display of arrogance, Anderson insisted that these records would “no longer be listened to '' with him now in the equation. This decision would, of course, prove seminal in the trajectory of Frischmann’s music career in Elastica, as Anderson introduced her to spiky post-punk, however I find this to be rather ironic considering the undeniable folky nature of this particular song.

‘Just A Girl’ would later be re-recorded by Anderson and Richard Oakes, possibly around 1994, though reports of this vary, but not released to the public until a B-side was required for the single ‘Attitude’ in 2003. More on that (much) later, of course.

Natural Born Servant (Anderson-Butler)

‘Natural Born Servant’ is the actual first song in our timeline to be written by Anderson-Butler, and sees Suede as close to flirting with Baggy as they ever would.

As a result, this one comes across as rather trite, not to mention overlong, clocking in at six minutes and twenty seconds.

During my initial re-listen in my research for this project, I found myself incredibly puzzled as the chugging, Madchester intro spluttered into a half-hearted groove, before realising I’d gotten it entirely confused with a later track, ‘Be My God’. Frischmann shows herself a competent backing vocalist, possibly more so than Anderson. One YouTube commenter, possibly humorously, alludes to him “doing a Phil Oakey”, and there is indeed a resemblance. Anderson’s, however, is more naive, though he can certainly carry a tune and his voice is pleasant and sweet, possibly to the song’s detriment, when one considers the subject matter.

Much like a large proportion of Suede’s work, ‘...Servant’ sees Anderson dallying with sexual imagery, and more specifically, BDSM imagery. This attempt, however, whilst enjoyable enough, is surprisingly sexless. It’s almost a feat in itself to write about sex in such a decidedly virginal manner, but I’m glad this was a theme he stuck with throughout his lyrics and it hints at greatness yet to come. More interestingly, however, is the use of sexual imagery as a commentary on class struggle. “You’re a natural born servant/this is the time to open your eyes”, can be viewed as a submissive accepting their place, or a working class individual gaining class consciousness and becoming aware of their oppression in society.

I must say, I’m glad that this was as far as Suede’s relationship with Baggy really went, at least in the recordings I could find and actively listen to. It’s common to speculate of a song like ‘...Servant’ being indicative of a type of “alternate universe” Suede, but I couldn’t disagree more with this. Suede and Baggy just doesn’t work, and they would have always found their sound one way or another.

Justice (Unknown, possibly Anderson-Frischmann-Butler)

Surprisingly, this is the only song of this lot that I find myself drawn to the YouTube search bar to listen to out of choice. It’s almost certainly my personal favourite of all of the pieces we’ve covered here.I even found myself lip syncing to the chorus as I wrote this very paragraph! Oddly, I can’t find too much to say about it. It’s a sweet little, possibly even catchy, slice of Jangle pop. One of the thousands of happy-sad breakup songs of the late 1980s and very early 1990s. Anderson likens it to Aztec Camera’s ‘Oblivious’, which is a far, far better citation than the endless Smiths comparisons I once myself fell privy to, which have since become a cliche.

We again hear Anderson’s vocals not quite having come into themselves yet, there’s a hint of insecurity and hesitancy. They’re so far removed from what we understand as his vocal styling, that one YouTube commenter on the version I found asks if Butler sings vocals. There is present, however, a deep understanding of melody and an undeniable hookiness. I can see myself going back to this one for the odd listen.

Wonderful Sometimes (Unknown, possibly Anderson-Butler)

Gary Crowley, the geezer-ish presenter of the Sunday Afternoon show Greater London Radio, was the host of Demo Clash; a competition held each Sunday on the aforementioned radio station. As the title suggests, this was a show where London bands would send in demos, that would go head-to-head in a public vote. As pointed out in Love and Poison, however, this would largely amount to a game of “who has the most mates”. Anderson would later show dismissal, if not outright disdain for ‘Wonderful Sometimes’. In Dave Thompson’s Suede The Next Life, First Time Around, he describes the song as “shit (...) nothing to get interested in. (...) [GLR] was a little local station, and we’re talking about London where everyone’s in a band.” Still, it would end up on a compilation cassette called What The World Is Waiting For compiled by Adrian Gibson, programmer at Powerhaus on Liverpool Road, N1.

According to the Discogs listing, the idea was to showcase ten up-and-coming bands who were performing at the venue during this time (from a title like that, go figure). There was additionally a launch night at The Powerhaus, and Gibson was interviewed by Crowley to promote the gig.

As for the song itself? ‘Wonderful Sometimes’ contains a few witty one-liners, “you couldn’t liven us up with a cattle prod” and “i’ve heard of happy ever after / it was just a joke but you could die laughing” particularly stick out. Personally, I quite enjoy “Do I just love you ‘cause you look quite good”, but that’s because, as a young-ish woman and a passionate fan, this is an accusation I’ve had levelled at me in the past, and I know I’m not the only one!

‘...Sometimes’ is viewed by many as the holy grail of early Suede recordings, but for something so revered, it’s a decent enough piece of music, but it’s nothing special, even in the context of the other songs we’ve covered. Musically, I try to avoid Smiths comparisons, but here it’s unavoidable as the whiff of William, It Was Really Nothing and even some base notes of Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now, is enough to give you a migraine. Butler’s playing really is more Marr-ish than Marr, but drenched and sadistically drowned in a wah-wah pedal at times, eliciting a comparison to Fool’s Gold, though, mercifully, this is over much sooner.

More excitingly is a noticeable shift in Anderson’s vocal styling, now carrying slightly more confidence and having something of a personality. Here, he’s sounding almost like Robert Smith of The Cure, minus the “Robert Smith-isms”. A deliberately but self-consciously Sussex drawl (The Cure, and Smith, were from up the road from Haywards Heath in Crawley), and a slight nasal intonation.

Ultimately, I don’t so much understand the hype around this one - the reviews on RateYourMusic are unanimously positive, but it’s a jolly tune and, likely because of that, decidedly un-Suede.

#suede #suede band #brett anderson #justine frischmann #mat osman #bernard butler

13 notes · View notes

itsmyara · 2 years

Note

so how do you know that machi doesn't hate hisoka?

This "Machi hates Hisoka" thing is something I wanted to address for a while.

See, I know I'm a shipper but since I'll talk about canon here, a little disclaimer before I begin: saying she doesn't hate him isn't the same as saying she loves him canonically. She just doesn't hate him at all before the end of chapter 357.

First, it's important to know what "hate" means. Hate is a strong word that expresses an intense dislike, aversion or disgust towards someone or something and it often leads to hostility. And what happens is, when you hate someone, you tend to start seeing them as "the other", as someone you can't connect with or feel much empathy for, almost as if the person was less human than you are. Yeah, it sounds harsh, but as I said, hate is a strong word that can't be mistaken by a little dislike or annoyance (as it often is).

And if people said "Machi is annoyed by Hisoka" I would agree. Go ahead, Machi is pretty much annoyed by everyone (more on it later). But what people love to do is really put it as if Machi drools out of pure hatred and murderous intentions just by that sound of his name. Which happened only once, and for a very specific reason.

"Don't you dare fuck around with me" just now? When she supposedly always hated him? When, according to fandom, she had always acted like this around him, still that's the only time we saw it? It doesn't make sense.

Fact is, Machi had always acted like her normal self around him, exactly the same way she acts with everyone else. There are just two different things about her interactions with Hisoka: 1) so far, we got to see her interacting more with him than anyone else, and 2) he loves teasing her.

So, if you really pay attention to how she acts when talking to others, it's very clear how she's always cold, but with little patience to nonsense (or what she deems nonsense).

None of the above interactions are with Hisoka. They're all with other Phantom Troupe members. Does it mean she hates them? No, it just means this is her normal behavior.

Now, if you compare it to how she interacts with Hisoka, the only difference -- again -- is the screen time, and how Hisoka not only is the king of nonsense, he also probably loves getting these reactions out if her.

So we have chapter 55:

These are the only moments that her actions can maybe be considered "rude" towards him. Are they any worse compared to how she treats others?

Chapter 92:

I take her expression here much more as annoyance for having to deal with his erratic behavior during a serious mission (and his very glad expression as opposed to hers) than hatred. It's really up to interpretation tho, but I don't think she's fuming here.

Chapter 170:

Just an answer to Hisoka's nonsense asking her to choose a favorite to survive between him and Chrollo. Would she say it unprovoked? "Hisoka, if you fight and kill Danchou, I'll kill you!". She could have said it right at the beginning of this conversation, when he says he's arranging for Chrollo's exorcism for his own sake (keep that in mind). Instead, she simply asks if he's really fighting him, which makes me wonder why she even doubted his intentions -- Machi, with her great intuition. It's also fun how she only would kill him if he kills Chrollo. If she hated him that much, at this point she already had all the reasons to kill him: he's not a real PT member, he betrayed and sold them to the chain bastard which led to two deaths, he actively wants to kill Chrollo and she "hates" him. Why is she waiting for more reasons?

Before moving on to chapter 357, I just wanted to briefly mention chapter 71:

When all of your friends are trash talking someone you hate so much, why would you stay quiet about it? Considering how outspoken she is, why haven't she joined Franklin and Feitan and said Nobunaga all the bad opinions she supposedly had about this guy she "hated" so much?

Anyways, chapter 357:

First off, hatred against someone does affect the ability to feel empathy towards them. So there would be no "she's just being nice" towards someone she hates so much (as fandom claims) out of nothing like this, I'm sorry. I would only buy it if she had stayed behind with Hisoka to dance over his dead body. But no.

This is the sweetest we ever saw Machi being in canon. And this is when she thanks him for doing something that -- as he said right in front of her, with every word -- was for his own sake.

Honestly, there's no reason for her to be there, absolutely none. The money he paid in advance? She's a thief, member of an unscrupulous group, nothing is preventing her from stealing from a dead man she "hates". The gratitude for helping with Chrollo's exorcism? Something he did for his own sake and she knows it very well? Something he did so he could be the one to kill Chrollo, as he was trying to do just a few moments earlier?

Again, did she hate him as people say she did, she would either have left with Shalnark and Kortopi or stayed to spit on his corpse. That would have been the perfect occasion for Togashi to make it clear once and for all how much she's disgusted by him, how little she thinks of him, how she absolutely can't stand him, and what he did was completely different.

He showed how much she cared for him, at least as a PT member, even after knowing he was never truly one of them; even after he had a death match with Chrollo.

Then Hisoka comes back to life right in front of her and instead of fighting him to make sure he stays dead, or warning Chrollo, or at least showing any concern about the fact, she...

Makes sure he had learned a lesson for his future battles (why worry about it?), offers to stitch him up (remember she was there to make sure he was dead, first and foremost, that's her commitment with Chrollo and the Troupe) and decides to head out with a "then you don't need me" when she didn't even have to be useful to him to begin with (even if he had paid her to stitch him after he's dead -- he's alive now!) and turns her back very casually.

Honestly, I simply don't know how anyone can follow all of their interactions to this point and think "look how much she OBVIOUSLY hates him and is OH so disgusted by him!!". Specially about chapter 357, that would have happened in a completely different way if she actually did.

Machi is cold. Machi is short-tempered, with every single person she interacts with. She does get annoyed by him -- and by Nobunaga, and by Franklin, and by Shalnark, and by Chrollo, and so on. Before the end of chapter 357 she had never ever acted specially angry, let alone hatefully, towards Hisoka. And the only time she's angered by him is when he traps her and threatens the PT, including her.

But even when we see her after this, she's not enraged and visibly hostile or letting out bloodlust when talking about killing Hisoka. But someone else is. One day I saw someone saying "how can people ship Machi with Hisoka when she wants his head?". Well, she never said she literally wanted his head. Again, someone else did. Literally.

Don't get me wrong, Machi has all the reasons to be hating him and wanting his head now. I truly believed she would be devastated after chapter 357 but for some reason, if she is, Togashi decided not to make it much visible and focused on how much it affected Chrollo instead. Chrollo, who had always acted so chill even when his own life was threatened. Still, I've never seen anyone talking about Chrollo's hatred towards Hisoka. Go figure.

TL;DR: if Machi had always hated Hisoka, she also hates pretty much everyone she had interacted with and chapter 357 would have happened very differently. Togashi had the opportunity to show how much she hated him -- if she did -- and instead she acted in a compassionate, and then casual, way towards him. And even afterwards, instead of focusing on her hatred, he's focusing on Chrollo's. This is not saying she loves/loved Hisoka, but she didn't hate him before chapter 357, and I'm still waiting to see all of that visceral hatred people claim she has because it still didn't happen in canon.

#about the supposed hatred machi feels towards hisoka #long post but i've been wanting to talk about it for a while #machi #hisoka #machi komacine #hisoka morow #askmyara

73 notes · View notes

eliazine · 1 year

Text

Never Let Me Go 1&2 : Dynamics of power or "Nueng, you should learn to swim !"

So. This is my first meta. I guess the sometimes massives posts I wrote in response to others meta could count but they were in themselves interaction whereas this feel like talking into the void. So please, interact with me :) ? I wrote this to formalise my thoughts about the beginning of never let me go but I would loove to have people agree/disagree with my take and share why :)

I just watched the first two episodes of Never Let Me Go and wanted to pour my thoughts somewhere about the way the serie is handling relationship accross social class so far. Disclaimer : contrary to what this could look like, I do really like Nueng ! This is just the beginning of his character arc and it is a very interesting starting point. I look forward to him and Palm figuring out how to interact in a meaningfull manner.

Nueng is a young heir and Palm is his new bodygard. An important point is that from the other characters point of view, either Nueng isn't supposed to know Palm is an employee himself and not just the son of one (and him figuring it out is a proof that he has some understanding of the way his world works) or like at school, Nueng isn't supposed to know Palm at all.

Nueng is the boss

Nueng decided to treat Palm as a friend with the caveat that when needed he doesn't hesitate to remind them both that he is indeed the boss and that Palm has no say over what is going on between them. Which he does a lot, from little barbs to blackmailing him. Yes, he may not have any intention to use it and not even see it as a big deal : I'm gonna tell your dad you went to swim without permission may not exactly sound menacing to him as a mafia heir because he doesn't realize how much it means to Palm and the way this beginning set the tone of their whole relationship.

Because Palm, his father and maybe his whole family (we don't know about them but siblings, mother, grand-parents ?), are dependant on Nueng and his mother. Apart from their salary, being their bodygard clearly seems to be the core of Palm's father identity. He devoted himself to them, putting aside his own family even if the devotion may also be caused by the fact his job enables him to provide for them. The fact that he would only bring Palm with him when he is needed by his employer is harsh. But from his point of vue, he may have let him just live his own life until this great opportunity came to get a life-long job, a job that he himself deemed worthy to dedicate his life to. So Palm displeasing Nueng would at worst put their whole family in peril, at best be a huge blow to his father by reflecting on him and especially since he was the one to suggest Palm for the job. Both outcomes are to be avoided at all cost.

Why does Nueng act that way : It seems clear that he acts that way in order to protect himself, he does want a friend but doesn't want to be vulnerable. A "genuine" friend could deceive him, have ulterior motive going from small favour towards their university admission to full betrayal. A friend-for-hire doesn't, it may not be as rewarding but at least the risk is minimal. There is a contract between Palm and his family so, on a personal level what Palm mays want from him is taken care of and on the macro level being the son of a trusted employe, he is a safe person too. Can't fault someone to being risk-aversed a few weeks after his father being shot. Still, he needs to always remind himself that he is in control of the situation. He could do it silently but regularly he explicitly state it to Palm which can be seen as cruel but are in fact the moments where he is at least real with him.

Nueng as a "friend"

On the other hand, what I find very interesting is the way he acts when he does believe he is playing the part of a friend. When he invites Palm for breakfast or to carpool, he does it because that what would feel normal to him and so that's what should be. But he doesn't consider the situation he is putting Palm in. By pretending he is a guest, he is alienating him fron the rest of the staff. Because the staff would have to fall in line and treat him the same way, which (even if they would stay fond of him) would deprive him of the sense of easy belonging they provide him in this new place. Especially on the carpool aspect, it would be awfully akward for him to have his own father act as a chauffeur toward him. I liked that they used the school to transpose the same dynamic toward Nueng. By being the same kind of "friendly", the teacher that prevented him to do push-up even though he was also late put him in almost the same situation this time towards his peers students. The only difference being that even in this situation Nueng remains the one that has the power over the teacher. He try to decline the favour and doesn't dare to push it but if he chose to he would face real consequence and it may even greatly help toward others student seeing him as one of their own. Bullies will be bullies, but it could help those that are just intimidated by him to approach him. As it is, Ben is the only one who dares, I think because the fact that he is class president give him both symbolic power countering Nueng's and an incentive to.

It's a simple matter of not being either fish or flesh, which is horribly isolating. And it seems this is something Nueng was never taught to take into consideration, be it as a social tool or a weapon.

But even though, he could at least pick up on the way he makes Palm obviously ill-at-ease. I dare say he can see it, but he just acts as if doesn't matter and doesn't try to make it easier for Palm (well unless we see ordering him as a way to make it easier. indeed it removes the doubt about what Palm should do : just obey, but it makes it a job, the opposite of a shared moment free from what is expected of him). This is what he deemed should be and he seems to expect Palm to just get used to it (because it is so normal ! and shouldn't be any other way ). Which even if we're talking about something as mundane as having breakfast is still a diresgard for consent. In those situations, he is not trying to establish a relationship despite the weight of their respective position, he is just genuinely trying to deny it exists which in a sense put all of it on Palm shoulders until the moment where he bring it back in full force.

Even the way he get his mother to authorize using the pool is done in a way that is explicitly as a favour and not a discreet kindness. I know what you want and I'm giving it to you. But we are nowhere near a "because I like it when you are happy" (I love this line with such a passion) and it's more like a "now you owe me" or at least "see, what a good friend I can be". Again I do believe it is genuinly meant just poorly executed.

What about Palm ?

And no, Palm isn't grateful, happy for the opportunities he is offered etc.. But he isn't profundly hurt by it either because he isn't emotionnaly involved (yet). From where he stands, he understands the game his boss wants to play and just need to find his footing. He needs to do what's expected of him so he can avoid the forementionned consequences while still finding a way to be at ease with his world outside of the game as well as the moments where the game pause. As an aside, their "I always kept my eyes on you" sounded more to me as Palm feeling he was beeing rebuked by his boss and defending himself by denying that he had been distracted from his job by mackye than him wanting Nueng to know he is interested in him. At this stage, I don't think it would be true and if it was he definitly wouldn't express it even as a joke. They are not mates sounding each other out. And even if Nueng intention was to tease him, I don't think it came accross that way.

Is it even worth trying ?

So what could they do ? Is it simply impossible for them to be friend ? For Palm, in his situation he can't really take initiatives and moreover he isn't interested in doing it. He may feel interested by Nueng in some ways but he mainly wants to get on with his job and life. But for Nueng, he Can act in order to create a real friendship and at least at first a better "friend-for-hire" relationship. But, and it is so obvious and crucial, he needs to take Palm into consideration for it to work. He needs to observe or even better ask (but that will only be possible at a latter stage) what put Palm ill at ease and understand (or even better later discuss together) why and find (again better if together) how to improve on it. As this stage, he could discretly offer for Palm to ride in front with his father when the later is driving him to school, he would still let him keep the role of son of an employee while avoiding him the trouble of taking the bus. The breakfast is harder, because sharing a meal is intimate. Maybe later he could try to come and take breakfast in the kitchen with Palm and the cook. As their boss, it could be an invasion of Their personnal space and he would need to be self-conscious and carefull to be sure they are not unconfortable but at least he would be the one enduring the fact that he isn't where he is supposed to be.

He could also try and create situations where he can give Palm some power at least in a relative and localized way. He could go on Palm's ground and put himself out of his own confort zone. He would still ultimatly be the boss and that fact wouldn't be erased but it could be mitigated. (Kinnporsche ep6 was a great example, Porsche being more experimented in the wild allowed them to share moments where he didn't have to defer to Kinn, could even have Kinn defer to him and it greatly contributed to leveling the ground between them so that they could then have meaningful interactions, says sorry and be forgiven etc..)

I was a bit disapointed to see that the pool was (or at least is still for now) a missed opportunity. I'm sure Nueng already knows how to swim but asking Palm, who is a better swimmer and for whom the pool is his natural habitat, to train him would be a great idea. It is a mundane way to create a space for them to easily spend time together, without overtly confronting their employer/employee relationship and with Palm being in a confortable environment and temporarily gaining some form of control over the situation between them. Whereas as a conterexemple, Nueng helping Palm with his chinese is quite nice from him but works as a reinforcement of their general dynamic. It puts Palm in a situation where he is in a weak spot and risks Pueng loosing patience with him if he doesn't succeed well/quickly enough.

To be continued

I find this subject fascinating and look forward to the way the scriptwriters will adress it. The fact that the firsts episodes put such an emphase on it gives me hope that it will be well adressed.

We are all Mafia Heirs

I will also use this post as a reminder to myself and anyone interested in it that all of us should be careful of the way we act when in position of power or symbolic power. We do not need to be head of mafia/heirs/millionnaires/bosses to have to take those things into consideration because, as Bourdieu would says Dynamics of Power are Everywhere (may I says I mention him mainly so you could go and check his work out if it interest you, I intends to do it myself and am by no means an expert). No matter how friendly, approachable or even weak we feel, we can all become intimidating to others by way of being : an established member of a friend group, at a more than beginner level in a given activity, a senior in the company, the host, the organizer of an event or of some club/association activity, a member of the majority of the current context (be it by our gender, race, orientation, religion, age etc…) . For now, the best ways I found to mitigate it (and I'm very interested in yours !) are indeed to recognise when I am in a position of symbolic power and stay observant of other people reactions to pick up on the moments where they seem unconfortable. And my favorite tool is try and make them talk about, or participate with them to things they are better at than me (and woah, did I learn interesting things that way !). It level the ground and help to make people feels able to be more natural in our interactions.

As an aside tip, I found that reminding myself of it also works in making me more at ease with someone who has symbolic (or explicit) power over me. Yes they are the teacher of my sport club, an important person in the work hierarchy, an expert is this field I'm interested in, their meta/fic as so awesome, but this is not the whole of their person and the situation could even be inverted if they were to come on the parts of my ground where I would end up being the intimidating one. So let's suppose they would like to interact in a normal way (because most people do and very often aren't aware they could even come accross as intimidating) and mentally mitigate or even decline to recognise any power they have over me so we can just interact in a confortable way as the human peers we all are.

The end !

Did anyone read until the end ? ^^ If so have a very nice day ! (and please tell me your thought on my take ! ;) )

#never let me go #never let me go meta #nlmg meta #nuengpalm #post i wrote #never let me go ep1 #never let me go ep2 #it took so much longer than I thought #I feel like I should try to make it more palatable by adding images and such but I still have a lot to do today #and I still feel like I forgot a lot #all my respect to all the meta writers out there !#so I will just post and maybe improve it later

11 notes · View notes

kindan-no-kanojo · 1 year

Text

⊹𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖎𝖓𝖋𝖔 1.6

❝You needn't remind me of how weak I am...❞

╬━━━━━━ ❪ ❦ ❫ ━━━━━━╬

꧁•⊹Fears

—Phobias

➳ Traumatophobia ━Fear of injuries. The spectrum of this phobia is quite wide. While Scarlett's pain tolerance is very high, it doesn't mean that she enjoys any of it. Getting physically hurt will make her recoil from whatever or whoever made her feel pain. Additionally, a specific thing is considered an undisputed phobia: broken bones. The sound of bones breaking, cracking, already makes her feel anxious. A situation that could break a bone raises her stress levels even higher. Lastly, a full panicking Scarlett will be unleashed if harsh injuries are directly bestowed upon her hands.

➳ Dementophobia ━Fear of madness or insanity. People who have this fear are afraid of going insane or losing touch with reality. For Scarlett, after so many centuries remembering everything (See: Special characteristics), she fears her mind will eventually break apart, as she cannot die or suffer from any disease affecting the brain. Besides, upon feeding, insanity is quite common amongst Ghouls and, plus, she has already experienced the loss of self-control and mindlessness before, which increases the dread of not being able to come back to her senses if she falls there again. Needless to say, she will not be consciously aware of her fall into madness, and once she loses her complete sense of reality, she might not recover ever again.

➳ Hoplophobia —Fear of firearms. People with this phobia often manifest it as the idea that the weapons possess a will of their own, apart from that of their user; as though a gun could shoot and harm without external manipulation. Scarlett keeps this fear given her aforementioned ability of complete recollection of her life events: as a human, she was killed by a gunshot. However, the image of the weapon never came into her sight, so her fear may get triggered more easily with the sound of shooting. She knows what a gun looks like, and might be wary of it at the sight of someone holding it or freeze if she's pointed at with one, but Scarlett can get much more reactive with the sound of a gun in the distance than by having one in front of her.

꧁•⊹Aversions

━ Stronger than a dislike, but easier to manage or overcome.

➳ Marriage (Gamophobia) —While this usually has to do with commitment, Scarlett actually 'fears' marriage for different reasons. The main one wanders around the idea of the legally-owned-by title, as she can't help but associate it with belonging to someone, like she did in the past, during slavery. Stray to love, she struggles to see the appeal in the idea of legal possession without finding it objectifying. The aversion only applies when she is involved; she doesn't mind attending weddings of others. Scarlett can warm up to the idea with a long-term partner, she'd require a lot of trust, talk and especially time to understand that belonging to a loved one does not equal belonging to an owner.

➳ Heights (Acrophobia) —Someone with acrophobia experiences intense anxiety when they are positioned at a significant height. Granted her ability to fly as a crow, Scarlett very cautious about it, but she doesn't freeze when she needs to fly. Ideally, she would fly low or near tree branches in case something hits her or she falls. This aversion is connected to her phobia of injuries, since a fall from a high height can cause severe harm on her, especially on her small crow body. Bonus: Scarlett not only dislikes standing on high places, but also being close to big objects or abnormally tall people as well. The possibility of being crushed or servery hurt makes her uneasy.

➳ Darkness (Nyctophobia) —Scarlett lacks acute vision in the dark, so oftentimes she'd rather have a small light source to be aware of her surroundings. Complete darkness makes her feel anxious, especially if alone, which makes all her senses spike up and stay very alert of any dangers, making it hard to concentrate or sleep if she needs to. It can also give her nightmares or hallucinations if she ends up falling asleep in the dark. Even a small portion of light, like from the moon or another light coming from the window, can soothe her by helping her recognize the shapes and objects of the room. Being in close company can also help her feel at ease in these cases.

╬━━━━━━ ❪ ❦ ❫ ━━━━━━╬

[ Masterlist ]

#Scarlett Wakahisa #Diabolik Lovers OC #📜.Fears #📜.Aversions #📜. Character Info #👁‍🗨. About #.here's the post y'all been waiting for you heartless beings #.marriage talk coming in hot dont miss it (?)#💄. Red Fury | Scarlett

13 notes · View notes

savecomplete · 1 year

Text

re: post that says i play a part in "carrying the fandom"

not going to name names, not going to mention (tumblr function) anyone, but i want to nip this notion in the bud.

prefacing this with the disclaimer that this is strongly worded, that this is going to sound mean and harsh, but i'm fine with coming off that way, if i get to assert my boundaries.

i'm incredibly averse to "fandom". i want nothing to do with fandom involvement. i am not here to make friends. all i need to enjoy media is to talk about it with the handful of friends i've shared it to, and i either already have that, or i make it happen. when it comes to needing to use art to appreciate a given work, i express this creative energy in many different ways. visual art is one outlet for that self-expression. all i'm doing on cohost/tumblr/twitter/etc. is using relevant tags for art i make, deciding what i can/want to share to the public. tumblr's archiving and tagging system, while still lacking in features over the past decade, is notorious for how useful it is to visual artists.

do not put me on a pedestal, and do not treat my work like its public domain use. you'd be wrong to do either. i'm not superior or inferior to you; don't act like it. there is a reason my art accounts all use a selfie of me as my avatar. we do not know each other and i'm perfectly fine with that. stay on your side of the screen.

given 8/9 posts i've made on this account so far are katana zero posts, and that i was mentioned as one of a few artists "carrying the fandom" on here by a fandom member, i also want to speak my mind about how i perceive this specific fandom. it's weird. a lot frustrates me about it. i've seen a lot of things that make my stomach turn. some heavy issues are treated in flippant manner, despite the source game portraying them with appropriate gravity. for whatever reason, it's typical for the fandom to lighten fifteen's skin, despite it being exactly the same as zero's skintone. there is a bizarrely prevalent attitude that the incoming DLC is an owed debt to the fandom, enough for people to make accounts like one dedicated to a daily count of how long it's been since full release without the DLC. come on, people. it's as if the DLC exists in some strange intangible vacuum where the budget, size, and humanity of the dev team are somehow not a factor. as though the DLC exists separate from the ongoing pandemic, and a literal real war affecting the team.

to see so many "fans" act incredibly entitled, so loudly and constantly, and doing this everywhere and anywhere it's fucking possible to leave a comment or post, even on unrelated work, well…

yeah, hopefully by now it's clear why i would want to distance myself from any fandom involvement. i hate fandom. it's never a healthy culture; katana zero's fandom is no special outlier to that. i'm not a superhero savior to this fandom that is supposedly "dying", "near-dead", etc. im not "carrying" shit, i'm just using your tags. "this fandom is nearly dead" then die! i'm not a part of this! go read interviews from the dev team and learn about game development—hell, go and try to draw or animate or compose or code something for a game, and then just try to get back to me about how "unreasonable" the wait is for the DLC. pretending this exists in a vacuum: if the "first act" of the story took 6 years of development, and the DLC is currently taking 3 years so far, and the DLC's size is of half the main game... is the rate of game development truly anything close to unreasonable?

...i'll say that, to me, there's a difference between fans of a work of media and the "fandom" for it, even if the former group is not entirely separate from the latter. from half a month of being on tumblr i've grown over 50 followers, which is incredible, especially for a single-digit amount of art shared so far. i read tags. i check my mentions. there's been some lovely compliments through tags on reblogs, which i appreciate, and i further appreciate that my work is being enjoyed and shared through reblogs and likes. thank you.

p much the bulk of you treat me kindly; honestly, i'm still trying to wrap my head around all the positive attention and encouragement. thank you for taking care and effort to tell me what you have. energy and time have finite limits; i'm happy when people decide to spend that on making me feel appreciated.

but i'm also a rather direct person, and don't like being wishy-washy about my limits and boundaries.

so, to conclude: i get uncomfortable when people try to nominate me as notable for any involvement in "fandom", and further, when strangers talk as though i'm trying to breathe life into any fandom perceived as "dead" or "dying". that's not my problem. i'm not trying to solve it, either. i'm not looking for recognition as a popular figure in a fandom. what i create and why i create it is independent of any fandom existing. i don't want anything to do with fandom involvement. leave me out of it.

8 notes · View notes

leviathanhomecooking · 2 years

Photo

@rumrollinsweek » Wednesday: Snack || Energy

Read at AO3

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel (Comics) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Jack Rollins/Brock Rumlow Characters: Jack Rollins, Brock Rumlow Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Fluff Summary:

Brock is looking ragged by the end of their op. He’s been unusually quiet and terse since their dispatch twenty-seven hours ago. Judging by the date on the calendar, Jack knows why. Brock always gets lethargic during his heat.

Brock is looking ragged by the end of their op. He’s been unusually quiet and terse since their dispatch twenty-seven hours ago. Judging by the date on the calendar, Jack knows why.

Brock always gets lethargic during his heat.

Not that Jack would ever acknowledge such a thing out loud. Brock is very prickly when it comes to his omega caste and likes to pretend as if Jack, who has frequently had his knot tied deep inside him, somehow isn’t aware of it.

With scent blockers being a necessary part of their work, and Brock’s insecurity leading him to use them in his personal time, Jack’s only clue to his commander’s tri-monthly cycle has been the subtle, routine behavior changes. The moodiness, the speechlessness, tiredness, the aversion to being alone with Jack; it didn’t take long for him to figure it out.

Even now standing next to Brock in the locker room, he can see Brock’s exhaustion and a few droplets of sweat on him as he’s changing into his civvies.

“I got some paperwork to do, but after, want me to come over?” Jack asks. It’s futile, he already knows the answer. Brock doesn’t like being alone with him during his heat. But to break from his usual routine would be to acknowledge Brock’s perceived omega weaknesses, so he keeps up the facade to placate him.

There’s a pause before Brock responds, “Sure.”

Jack almost forgets to control his surprised expression, his head whipping towards Brock to confirm what he heard. Brock is pointedly not looking at him, merely unpacking things from his locker.

“Yeah?” Jack asks as casually as he can muster.

“Yeah. I’m going home.” Brock shuts the locker with a clang and walks away without so much as a glance back.

Well, that’s interesting.

Jack reminds himself to keep a level head. Just Because Brock is allowing him over, doesn’t mean he wants to have sex. For all he knows it could be some elaborate test driven by Brock’s paranoia. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Jack finishes his paperwork in just under two hours. On his way to Brock’s apartment he picks up Taco Bell. Brock has a soft spot for junk food, so hopefully the gift will smooth over whatever foul mood he has thrown himself into.

Jack lets himself in with his own key. He lets the sound of a distant tv lure him to the bedroom where his commander is sprawled on top of the king-sized bed, looking even worse and dressed down in sweats. He’s got dark circles under his eyes and his face sags with harsh lines in the form of a grimace.

“I brought Taco Bell.” Jack greets him, holding up the back. He leans against the doorway and says, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Jus’ cramps.” Brock sighs.

“Cramps?” Jack has seen Brock take bullets and broken bones with barely a peep, but heat cramps are what’s got him limping around like a lame horse?

“Are they always this bad?” Jack asks.

“Unfortunately.” Brock huffs.

Plenty of omegas go through heats with nothing but a rosy flush and desperate horniness, while others get vomiting and sickly fever. Apparently Brock is one of those unfortunate omegas.

“You take anything?” Jack asks.

“Couple hours ago. M’due for more ibuprofen.”

“I’ll get it.” Jack volunteers. He knows his way around Brock’s apartment so returns quickly to Brock’s side.

“You need to eat these with food, right? Here.” Jack hands Brock a cheesy burrito. Normally the older man would light up at seeing his favorite junk food, but Brock is looking a little green at the sight of the greasy, gooey mess.

“Nauseous too?”

“Yeah.”

“Want me to get you some crackers or something?”

“Nah, this is fine.”

For all of Brock’s obsession with discipline and order, he’s got quite the hedonist in him. It’s hard for him to resist a treat when he’s feeling so miserable.

Brock takes slow nibbling bites contrary to the greedy, messy way he normally scarfs down his food. He washes it all down with ice cold cola. He should be drinking water as heat can make omegas dehydrated, but the fizzy drink may help settle his stomach. Also, Brock is looking a little more perky having had his favorite snack.

“Want me to go?” Jack offers.

“Nah. Stay.” Brock pats the vacant side of the bed, “House Hunters is on.”

They lie there on the bed, munching on their food, and watch HGTV in comfortable silence. Brock doesn’t seem to care they’re getting food all over his nice silk bed sheets.

“Ibuprofen helping any?” Jack asks.

“Can only do so much. Can’t take anything stronger.”

Jack nods. They can’t afford to build up a tolerance to painkillers or else it will be a nightmare when they get seriously injured.

“Y’know, they say sex is supposed to help with heat cramps.” Brock says.

“I thought that was just shit alphas said to get laid.” Jack retorts.

Brock chuckles at that.

Jack’s no fool, he knows a trap when he sees one. There’s a glint in Brock’s eye, barely perceptible, that dares Jack to make a move. Doctors do say that sex helps with heat cramps, but just because it helps with cramps doesn’t mean it’s enjoyable.

“Want me to rub your belly?” Jack teases.

Brock is a little taken aback but eventually laughs, “Sure, why not?” He doesn’t seem to think Jack would actually do it, and so flinches when a big, warm hand settles gently over his clothed tummy. Jack smooths his palm in firm circles over Brock’s shirt.

The older man quirks his eyebrow in disbelief, but Jack just gives him a placating smile that makes him roll his eyes. He doesn’t protest the gentle petting that stays firmly above the waist. Jack doesn’t stop though, and gradually Brock relaxes into the touch.

“This helping?” Jack murmurs.

“Yeah...feels nice…” Brock sighs, content. He hikes up his shirt just enough to expose his stomach, letting Jack touch his bare skin.

Jack rubs in firm, hypnotizing motions. Lets himself feel and enjoy Brock’s warm skin, the peaks and valleys of his hard abs. He can feel Brock’s abs tense with each wave of cramps, and his stomach heave with every slow breath.

Jack gets a little bold, leaning closer to nose under Brock’s chin, nuzzling and scenting him. Brock gives a small pleased hum. For how much of a spitfire Brock normally is, seeing him pliant and subdued is quite a treat.

Brock gets some sniffs of his own in, nestling his nose into the crook of Jack’s neck. One long inhale of the alpha’s strong musky scent, and Brock goes totally lax. He sighs deeply as his limbs unspool and he sinks deeper into the mattress.

It’s then that Jack gets a faint whiff of something that makes him dizzy.

Slick.

Slick coming from Brock. From between his spread legs.

Jack has to hold back a growl. The scent blockers are starting to wear off, and he catches wafts of Brock’s natural spicy smell. The omega gives another content rumble. Jack’s cock starts to swell, but he doesn’t dare break his rhythm. He’s riled up smelling him, being so close, touching him. Knowing that between Brock’s legs is a warm, wet, twitching maw begging for Jack to fill it with his seed.

A phlegmy wheeze breaks the alpha from his manic thoughts. Brock has his eyes closed and mouth slack. With each breath that wheezing sound emits from his nose.

Snoring.

Brock is asleep and he’s snoring. Brock is asleep with slick dripping out of him and Jack rock-hard in his jeans.

Fuck my life, Jack thinks.

#rumrollinsweek22 #rumrollins #Hydra Husbands #jack rollins #brock rumlow #fic #my stuff #my writing

14 notes · View notes

junk-culture · 1 year

Note

As much as I like you, I worry about you being too agreeable sometimes. People seem to do that a lot, saying things to appease others. (Maybe I told you this already.)

HMMM.... well i understand the concern but it's okay because actually underneath the silly hehe persona im actually so so evil and im just biding my time and charging my lasers until i fucking GET everyone who's ever annoyed me or made me uncomfortable or has said something stupid or smells or has bad taste or hates me .

... no but erm I think. Well I get what you're saying and you are sort of right I guess. (Or am I just saying that to appease you...?) But it's not something I'm unaware of and also not something that's like, true enough to be a big issue I don't think. (or it hasn't been yet...)

I mean in general I'm very "conflict averse" but I'd like to think if something was genuinely bothering me I'd put a stop to it, or if someone was doing something that's unhealthy to them I'd be able to speak up about it. Of course it can be difficult sometimes, and I'm not naturally outspoken or whatever you want to call it. But for things that don't really matter, or in a context where it doesn't do any harm either way, I don't know if it's a terribly bad thing to just nod and smile as it were instead of saying what you really think. Especially on the internet, anyway.

I guess I find it's easier to be agreeable than disagreeable. (and it's generally nicer, of course, though I don't mean that to sound pious.) There's a fine line I suppose between not being uneccesarily harsh, and telling outright lies to make someone feel better which is bad and makes things unhealthy for both parties. And I would never want to do the latter. And I know there's a difference between someone who's easygoing and someone who's too much of a pushover or a "people pleaser". But it's not like I'm unaware of this, I do keep it in mind. (And will certainly continue to, because you've said this.) And I know what my boundaries and opinions are...

I understand the worry, anyway, and I appreciate it. 🐙

#-_- coming into my inbox making me psycho analyse myself. Tch #but hello .i hope you're doing well ...

3 notes · View notes

ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff · 3 years

Text

Grumpy Softie (Spencer Reid x Reader) Smut

Summary: There are a few sure-fire ways to improve a frustrated doctor’s mood.

AN: This is my fic for @reidgraygubler for @imagining-in-the-margins and @sunlight-moonrise fic swap! I hope you enjoy it! Reader is AFAB and uses they/them pronouns. 18+, Minors DNI!

Content Warnings: Grinding, mild choking, mutual masturbation, desk sex.

Masterlist

Your name: submit What is this?

Spencer had been cantankerous beyond belief these last few days. His passive aggression seeped through to every action: the harsh clinking of the teaspoon against his coffee mug, the pen scratching against a student’s homework, his brow determined to iron in wrinkles while he read one of many bills.

Mandatory days off from work would have driven him insane were it not for his position at college. Finally, it was Doctor Spencer Reid’s turn to take on the lecture theatre alone, only a hint of nostalgia in his chest for when Gideon was at his side or when he would poke his head around the door with a casefile pressed to his chest. Still wet behind the ears and barely filling out the FBI’s smaller sized vests – let alone the windbreaker.

Now he was leading the class, all eyes on him, and more students were laughing at his jokes.

With a loud sigh, Spencer took off his glasses, leaning back with his fingers rubbing darkness back under his eyes. As if his fractioned sleep schedule wasn’t doing enough of that for him. His desk was weighed heavy under the piles of essays he printed off. He hadn’t moved for three hours and he had no reason to: no classes, he wasn’t hungry nor did he need the toilet. Only one thing could save him from his dismal mood continuing for the rest of the day.

Y/N crawled over his lap with the knowledge that Spencer would not try to push them away. Working his soft spot for them, they settled down upon him and squeezed his shoulders tight.

Blinking against the light, Spencer’s half-closed lids focused on the shadowy face and the left corner of his mouth lifted for them.

“Hey,” He said, his voice low and gravelly.

Y/N leant their nose against his for a second, “Hi.”

“I’m busy, you know?”

“I do. I just missed you.”

“My door is open; you can see me from the couch.”

“Not close enough.”

Prison had done that to the couple. Made them “clingy” despite Spencer’s aversion for touch, but it was understandable. The proxemics between Spencer and Shadow meant nothing but agony if they weren’t touching. That divider, the guards keeping eyes and reaching for guns, batons, at an inch’s worth of movement, those signs screaming: “NO CONTACT BETWEEN VISITORS AND INMATES”. What a hierarchy.

Shadow kept up their smile despite the meaning behind their words. A decent mask to cover the pain on their end because why would they want to burden Spencer with theirs as well as his own? Except that was what their relationship supported and Spencer was able to lift off the mask to welcome all emotion it had been hiding, because that was exactly what Y/N had done for him once he was released.

“This close enough?” He said, wrapping his arms around their waist with his left wrist in his right hand. The link pressed against Y/N’s lower back and nudged them closer. Y/N’s smile was hidden in a bitten lip as they shook their head.

“Oh?” Spencer raised his eyebrows, clicking his tongue. With deliberation, he moved so that Y/N was trapped now by his forearm. His free hand closed tenderly around their neck and gave a light squeeze, “How about this?”

Y/N let out a cross between a whine and a hum. That was the push they wanted and all the confirmation Spencer needed.

Taking the lead, Y/N was up to strip off their trousers and underwear while Spencer undid his belt. There was only so much time; the waistband of his trousers caught underneath his thighs when Y/N returned to his lap. Fluid and practiced motions removed his cock from his underwear, the sound of spit hitting skin followed by the touch of a loving hand. He lavished in the attention for a few seconds. Then he matched their stroking with his own nimble fingers, simultaneously grounding them in each other’s grasp and lifting them away into heaven-like states.

He used Y/N’s own tactics against them and won as they moaned against his lips, pulling away only at the will of his hand. Their own feeble attempts at pulling his hair did nothing to dissuade his speed; the whining only made him more fervent.

That faux innocence, as if Y/N didn’t know what they were doing while practically humping his clothed cock in the middle of his work day, it was intoxicating and he breathed it in from the slope of their neck. Open mouthed, he gripped their cheeks tight and grinded against them.

“Please,” Y/N whispered.

Only because they asked so beautifully. Y/N wobbled before they settled onto his cock. Their clit was flush with his pubic bone before Spencer started moving, digging his heels into the carpet. Seeing, hearing, feeling their bliss, it didn’t take long for him to cum inside them, leading Y/N to climax. They were so needy, so loving as they came in his lap. Spencer kissed their cheek, whispered a few words of gratitude in their ear. He revelled in the moan he got as a reply that was accompanied by a squeeze around him.

“This is almost perfect,” Y/N sighed.

Spencer stopped, his confused pout still pressed up against their skin. “Almost?”

“Too many clothes in the way.”

“Hmm. I agree.” A little laughter was shared between them. “And you’re missing a ring.”

Flexing their fingers behind his neck, Shadow said, “So are you. You want one that vibrates?”

“I uh wasn’t talking about that.”

“I know, hun. I know.” The teasing in their tone was clear. One might not believe they had been begging for release just minutes prior.

“Good idea though.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm, I like yours better.”

“Can I tell you something?”

Y/N lifted their head up to look Spencer in the eye, giving him a lazy nod. The twinkle in his eye spread to his smile while he tipped his head over Y/N’s shoulder, “I kinda wanna get the ring from the drawer. But I don’t wanna move.”

Now it was Y/N who was confused. “You’re torn between proposing and not pulling out?”

“Well, since you’ve been good for me…” Spencer began to shuffle on his seat. He stopped instantly as Y/N groaned and clung tighter around to him. Willing some self-restraint, he cupped their thighs and stood slowly with a hand on his chair’s back.

“Spencer please-”

“Almost there, I promise.”

Their laughing hitched with gasps as Spencer placed them down onto his desk, their hands falling amidst paperwork to support themselves with Spencer slanted against their chest. A slide of the desk’s top drawer accompanied the fiddling of documents and Spencer’s craning neck. Y/N couldn’t help themselves. Despite wanting him to achieve his goal, they distracted him with tickling kisses that disturbed his giggles more.

“Got it.” Spencer finally withdrew the box in one hand until it opened and handed over his ring – which he then held between himself and his partner, “So, Y/N, will you marry me?”

“Yes, I will.” Y/N still couldn’t believe this was happening. Only the cool ring sliding along their finger kept them anchored, dizzying them with happiness as Spencer kissed it. “We can never tell our kids about this.”

Spencer’s gaze broke from the ring, that and his tone being only things soft about him. “Our kids?”

“I mean,” Y/N looked down, “You’re still inside me. It’s almost like you’re making sure you get me knocked up.”

As per usual, Spencer’s mind worked fast. He licked his fingers and reached down, rubbing their clit. Arching into him, Y/N’s forehead glued to Spencer’s and their eyes studied each other’s reactions. Not even as Spencer guided Y/N to lay back on the desk did they break form and Spencer took advantage of this pull up one of their legs and push himself deeper inside once the angle was right for them. Every time he bottomed out, Y/N let out a squeal. This orgasm was silent as it crested over them. No sound left their agape mouth, no breath for several seconds. When that deep sigh finally left their lungs, Spencer released his too, his hips finally slowing down now that the spike of pleasure threatened to take his control.

“Orgasms help when trying for a baby,” panted Spencer, “Supposedly.”

“Whatever you say, doctor, professor, darling.” Y/N swallowed and sighed, “I hope I didn’t crease any of your students’ assignments.”

“They’re copies. Don’t worry, I’ll just print them off again.”

Shoulders rising and falling, Spencer looked like he had just been freed of the weights of the world, and his face was gentle in expressing his relief. The only tension was in his cheeks with his smile, the apples firm and rosy.

Rolling their eyes was the only response that Y/N could think of, that and: “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” Spencer turned his head just to keep eye contact wherever Y/N was avoiding it, following their lolling head and beaming still, “I just took you twice at and on my desk, and now you can’t smile at you?”

“Ugh, go back to being cranky, would you?”

“I can’t, not now I’m engaged to the most wonderful person I know.” Oh, a reminder – if he was able to forget, but his mind was rather occupied beforehand. “When anyone asks, we’ll tell them I got down on one knee at the park after a dinner date.”

“How romantic.”

Unable to discern if this was sarcasm or not, Spencer welcomed Y/N’s arms around his neck and their lips locked to his once more as he sat them up but kept them close – just a little longer.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #Spencer reid smut #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds smut #my writing #wc: 1k+#smut

501 notes · View notes

tokoyamisstuff · 3 years

Text

Scandal Ch. 1 - Loki x Reader

Summary: After your child is born a Frost Giant, your husband accuses you of infidelitiy, unaware about his own heritage...

Warnings: Pregnancy, Childbirth, Angst, Mild Cussing

Noteable: Takes place before Thor 1, Asgardian Fem! Reader

Words: ~1800

I Story Masterlist I General Masterlist I

It was as if your anchestors wanted to deliver a warning, for Asgard had never faced a storm matching this fateful afternoon.

The thunder swallowed all of your screams and cries, every curse you spoke with each contraction as the baby made it’s way into this world. All this time, your precious husband would never leave your side, letting you squeeze his hand as much as you needed.

“Only a little bit more, my Lady!” the midwife shoutet from between your legs, her tone calm yet cheerful. “I can already see the head!”

“I’m right here. You’re doing wonderful, my petal.” Loki was softly petting your hair, pressing a wet kiss into your forehead. “You are incredibly strong, Y/N. And I love you so much!”

Remaining collected was using up all of his energy at that very moment, you knew that much. Yet not even the God of Lies could hide all the helplessness and excitement stirring in his head at that very moment.

Being with the Prince of Asgard was just like in a dream.

Once you get to know him, that troublesome arrogant lone wolf turned into a smart, caring - and especially charming - prince. And hel, Loki treated you like a Queen.

All this pain you were experiencing right now would ultimately lead to the greatest bliss imagineable - just like it was with Loki.

Oh, how dearly you had fought, suffered, yearned for him, only to be rewarded with heartbreak and frustration. In between his feverishly chase for the throne and his rivalry with Thor, there was just no room for a loving relationship to grow.

The crushing weight of thinking himself unworthy for affection had made him cold and bitter over the millenias, telling himself the comforting lie that he was above all, born for a glorious purpose.

For the God of Mischief, whose kinsmen had always made him feel out of place or under-appreciated, the process of trusting had always been one step forward, three steps back.

But through your compassion, and with a great deal of patience and understanding, you slowly but steadily melted the ice around the prince’s heart.

Because deep inside, you always knew that it was worth it.

And today would be the peak of your romance: Your child would forever remind the Odinson that he belonged somewhere - right here, with you.

“It’s a boy!”

“A heir?!” Loki exclaimed, smothering your face in kisses. “Well done!”

You smiled weakly at his excitement, in between choked sobs. All that your exhausted self was able to process was the fact that your child is born - and you already loved him beyond reason.

“Where is he?!” you whimpered, unable to realize how the air in the room had shifted - for when the midwife touched the infant, she began to scream in agony.

“What’s wrong?!” Loki’s eyes were narrowing at the midwife that almost dropped his newborn, detecting some sort of burn wound on her palm. Quickly, she had covered the boy in a towel, aware that if any harm came over that baby, she was to die at the God of Mischief’s hands.

A flash of lightning was brightening the whole room, which had only been flooded by dim candle light until now.

Another one of the midwife’s screeched in terror, almost stumbling as she frantically erscaped your bedchamber. The adrenaline from birth and worry about your child sharpened your senses, yet concentration was almost impossible.

Still, the words she was yelling as she ran down the hall send a shiver down your spine:

“It’s a monster.”

Your head was spinning as you rushed into an upright position, with two nurses pressing you onto the bed again. “Milady, you need to rest! It’s still too early!”

“What is wrong with my child?!?” you desperately screamed, kicking with your legs to free yourself from their hold. “Give it to me!”

Their expressions were too much to bear. Your head was spinning, seeing pity mixing up with disgust and anger in their eyes.

“Enough!” Loki finally broke his own silence, his mind having been occupied with all the horror scenarios one could think about.

Walking up to the midwife carrying the infant, he demanded seeing it. “Your highness, don’t-” yet the midwife’s beg was for naught.

Yes, everything will be alright. Loki will take care of it, like he always does. After all, he’s your savior, your hero, the love of your life...

Gently and insecure, your husband cradled the newborn in his arms - a sight to behold. And the baby’s strong cries assured you that it was at least alive.

However, as soon as he dared to unwrap the towel, revealing it’s face, Loki’s heartbeat completely stopped for a second. His trembling lip began to shake, mouth widely agape as he took in the child’s form.

For a brief moment, his mind was completely blank. All emotion dropped from his face before taking in a complete different demeanour.

“Wha-” you wouldn’t dare ending that sentence when your husband’s furious eyes met yours.

The air was so thick, you thought not even Thor’s hammer could break it. Clearly ritten on Loki’s usual unreadable face were so many emotions at once:

Aversion, fury, incredible sorrow...all directed towards you? The child?

Impossible.

Loki Odinson loved you more than anything in this world, this was the only thing you had always been sure he wasn��t lying about.

“From all the people I expected to betray me...” His voice was hoarse, as if the ache in his heart was wrapping around his throat. “Why did it have to be you?”

You could feel the horrendous aura, a wave of sadness and despair coming from your husband. Seeing him like this was like torture.

“What- what do you mean, darling-”

“Don’t fucking call me that, you harlot!” That was surely not the first time your lover had raised your voice against you - he could be a bit difficult at times, obviously.

But this time was different somehow. It sounded so...ultimate.

And the Loki you knew would never use such harsh words against you!

“Please, I beg of you...just let me see my baby!” Everything was just too much for you, almost to the point of passing out.

And the man did as you pleaded, almost shoving the child into your arms. “There, have your bastard! And make sure to never show your filthy faces to me ever again!”

With that, he stormed out of the room, leaving you with those strange nurses looking at you like you’ve just commited an unforgiveable crime.

There was no use in overthinking this. He’ll come back like he always did. You can work this out, whatever it is - even if you are gonna be mad for a very long time, making such a fuss and then disappearing instead of taking care of you, the mother of his child.

Out of a whim, you decided to finally observe the little being you’ve been waiting for all those months.

A loud gasp escaped your mouth as you realized just why everyone was so worked up about that little boy. Yet the sound you made was solely surprised - not a hint of fear or rejection laced your voice.

It was a beautiful baby boy, little fists balled to the air as if he was searching for the warmth of his parents - though his skin was in the shade of a dark blue. When you dared running your hand over the deep lines and ridges on his body, the stinging pain of frostbite immediately stung your fingertips. His eyes snapped open, looking at you with black irises through red scleras.

You knew the meaning of this, even though you didn’t understand how this was possible: This child was a biological Frost Giant. A small one, but nonetheless.

A curse? Was someone trying to play your family dirty? No. If that was the case, the child wouldn’t also have actual powers together with the appearance.

Just how long have those tears been running down your cheeks in thick streams already? You wouldn’t know.

Only one thing came as clear as daylight to you: You loved this baby, more than anything in this world. And no matter the hardships that came along with it - you would protect him, no matter what!

“He’s magnificent...” you sniffled, pecking some quick kisses onto his small body before the cold could hurt you. “I love you so, so much...!”

Not minding the judging looks of the nurses, let alone wondering about the consequences, resolve was starting to give you new strenght.

The boy got a grasp on your finger, and instead of your skin freezing off as expected, your magic allowed him to the boy to finally disguise itself as one of you. How was this even possible? Well, this is probably the first time something like this ever happened, so no one could prepare you for what to expect with this child.

They all say that birth was an impactful event - but nothing could’ve prepared you for everything that you had to endure on this day.

Yet nothing could’ve stopped you from believing that this child was the greatest blessing that ever came over you.

Now you only had to convince your husband of that very fact...

“Y/N Y/L/N!” the guard wouldn’t even bother adressing you with your full title as his harsh voice woke you up. When had you drifted away into slumber anyway? You were probably way more worn out than you wanted to admit...

Your eyes immediately snapped open, heart skipping a beat until you saw that your son was still sleeping soundly right next to you. Stroking his cheek as he smiled up to you, it almost made you forget about that burdensome situation.

“Hey!” Protectingly, you were holding onto your child for dear life as the guard approached both of you. “I have an important message to deliver!”

You scowled, almost like an animal mother protecting their offsprings with baring teeth, even though you knew in that state you would be completely and utterly helpless. “Why now? What could be more important than the well-being of my child?”

The answer let your blood run cold:

“I am here to announce that Lady Y/N Y/L/N has to face a trial in front of the Allfather. The following crimes she is being accused of: Infidelity, collaboration with the enemy and trying to sneak one of them into our glorious kingdom.”

#Loki #Loki Odinson #Loki x Reader #Loki x You #Loki / Reader #Loki Laufeyson #Loki Friggason #Marvel #Self Ship #Writing #Fanfiction

266 notes · View notes

wafflesandkruge · 3 years

Text

Armor (kanej)

Kaz and Inej have a quiet moment together before a big job. Will either of them finally say what they really mean?

ao3

Written for @grishaversebigbang! Based off of @nannadoodles’s amazing art which you can find here. Enjoy!

Kaz Brekker was a patient man. He understood the unfortunate reality that some things simply took time, so he was more than content to sit and wait for a perfect opportunity. Better to wait a decade than rush in and lay down your cards before you even had an inkling of what your opponent was holding. So he waited. Made some investments, some inquiries, some acquisitions. Waited some more.

And now, he was finally ready. After tonight, everything would be different. After tonight, Kaz would finally win.

“That’s your scheming face,” a voice murmured, interrupting the turning gears of his mind.

Kaz looked up to find Inej looking directly at him, her brows furrowed either in concern or exasperation, he could never quite tell with her. Her arms were crossed over her chest as she lounged on the windowsill. There weren’t any lights in the room they were currently holed up in, but the bright lights from the unsleeping city on the other side of the window made her luminous skin glow as if she’d been blessed by her saints. Kaz swallowed and focused again on the disassembled gun on the table in front of him. He forced his hands through the familiar motions of putting the weapon back together.

Silence fell between them again, occasionally punctuated by faint sirens and the ambient noise of a city not yet gone to bed. This high up, it was easy to pretend the troubles of Ketterdam didn’t exist.

But the ghosts of the past were never far behind, not as long as certain demons still lived.

“Are you ready?” he asked. He finished reassembling the gun and set it down on the table.

“You know me,” she said as she played with the end of her braid. “I’ll do it whether I’m ready or not.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Inej went quiet, a pensive look on her face. Then she sighed, a hundred unspoken frustrations behind it. Kaz thought their relationship would be much less complicated if she just told him what was wrong instead of resorting to her proverbs all the time. He leaned back in his chair, waiting for another cryptic Suli saying.

“This job isn’t going to give you what you think it will.”

Kaz laughed, the sound harsh to his own ears. Inej always thought she knew better. It was a shame she was usually right. “Money? I think this job will give me plenty of it. Thirty million kruge, to be exact.”

“We both know that’s not what I mean.” She leaned forward, the end of her braid brushing against the steel surface of the table. Kaz swallowed and tried not to move back. Her bare fingers brushed the lapels of his jacket, light enough he could have been imagining it.

“You talk of the future,” she continued, her voice solemn, “but your heart won’t let go of the past.”

Kaz stilled. They had an unspoken understanding between them to not talk about certain topics. The scar on the inside of Inej’s forearm. His aversion to touch. Jordie.

“I have no past,” he said, his hands clenched into fists below the table. “I came from nowhere. From no one. I built myself from the rubble.”

And he had. When he had nothing, he stole. When stealing wasn’t enough, he killed. He had pulled himself up from the slums of Ketterdam to become one of the most notorious gang leaders, and he didn’t do it by having a heart. Kaz Rietveld’s heart had long drowned in the canals along with his brother. Inej was seeing a ghost of what had been and what never would be again.

But she only swung her legs off the windowsill until she faced him completely and leaned closer. He could feel her breath against his lips. His muscles clenched, every voice in his mind screaming at him to move back. To run. But he could only watch as slowly, she let her palm rest against his still beating heart. His breathing turned ragged. The water he could feel rising around his legs was as cold as a harbor in winter, but all he could feel from Inej was...warmth.

“Armor,” Inej said quietly. Her gaze rose to meet his, and he clung to it like a lifeline. “It’s all armor.”

He tried to focus on her eyes and not the sensation of a dozen dead hands pulling at his limbs. It was Inej, not some faceless corpse. Not Jordie. She looked at him with a hope in her eyes that reminded him of his first days in Ketterdam, that perhaps there was good somewhere within a festering core of bad.

Inej was wrong for once.

He took a deep breath to steady himself, then forced a laugh. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. Armor is what keeps you from getting a knife in the back. Armor is what keeps you from bleeding out in an alley somewhere like a stupid skiv.”

Armor was what differentiated him from that stupid boy he had been.

He pushed the chair back and breathed a silent sigh of relief as Inej’s hand fell away. The water receded. But Inej was scowling at him again like he’d done something wrong.

A bell tolled from outside. Midnight was nearing, which meant the window they had to pull off the job was about to open. Kaz shook the events of the last few minutes from his mind as he grabbed his gun from the table and shoved it into his jacket.

“Don’t miss,” he told her as he turned for the door. If anything, her scowl deepened.

“I never miss. Keep talking and you’ll be the one with the bullet through the head instead of Pekka.”

“But think about how much you would miss me.”

“The only person in this city who would miss you is the undertaker.”

The door slammed behind him, leaving him alone in the dark hallway. Kaz shrugged and began walking towards the stairs. The clacks of his cane against the concrete echoed down the hall.

In an hour, Pekka would be dead. In an hour, he’d be free.

He thought about the streets of Ketterdam that would soon belong to him. Kings and queens, Inej. Kings and queens.

#gvbb21 #gvbbminibang21 #soc #six of crows #soc writing #kaz #inej #kanej #grishaverse #leigh bardugo #shadow and bone #my writing

79 notes · View notes

kindness-ricochets · 3 years

Note

I’ve been seeing a lot of thoughts and hc of autistic wylan lately and you seem to also be a fan of the concept. May I ask why? Exactly? I could definitely kinda see it but wanna hear you thoughts you’re always so eloquent

Hey there anon! Sorry for the delay—I’m guessing you already found an answer to this elsewhere while I was off Tumblr for a bit, but just in case, here are my thoughts. This will be heavily personal, but… well, you can’t very well ask an autistic person about autism and expect neutrality!

Autism is different for everyone and can be difficult to pin down, so while Wylan is arguably autistic, he misses several beats that for me would have made him definitively and undeniably autistic. For example, when the bells start to ring, triggering black protocol—I work in a place with a lot of bells and am frequently caught too close to one and normally press my hands over my ears until it’s over because that sound is like shrapnel raking across my insides. All of them. Not just the ear and brain parts. Wylan doesn’t have that sort of visceral reaction, but that may just mean he doesn’t have the same sensitivities that I do, or to the same level. He also never, that I recall, eats meat—as weird as that might sound, eating meat is incredibly complicated with heightened sensitivities to taste and texture. I’m not sure how old I was when I realized it was strange to get up from the table to spit out my food because it viscerally repulsed me. So it might be that Wylan is autistic and has different experiences than I do. Those are things I would include in a story as major indicators of a character being autistic. This might also mean that his father’s way of raising him taught him to hide unusual reactions and stimming behaviors. It’s not that much of a reach to assume a man who tried to abuse the dyslexia out of his son would take the same approach to autism. (More on autism and abuse later.)

So while I’m going to lay out why I read Wylan as autistic, that’s why I think it’s valid to read him as not being autistic as well. Both are valid.

A final caveat, I am well overdue for a reread of the books, so I likely left something out or could have found better examples. Take this as a few of my reasons for a personal headcanon. Anyone who feels differently, that's fine! We can each read things our own way :)

1 - Hyperfixation: The way Wylan loves music

Most of the Crows’ backgrounds color how they see the world: Kaz’s shrewdness, Matthias’s tactical thinking and superstition, Inej’s faith and Suli wisdom, etc. That’s a sign of good character writing. But very little of Wylan’s upbringing seems to have influenced how he sees the world. It comes closest when he thinks about how his father would scorn his new friends, but we never see that scorn from Wylan.

The way a hyperfixation feels, it’s like you’ve always lived in a close parallel world, never fully been a part of the other one where it seems like everyone else lives, but suddenly there’s this bright shining piece of your soul laced through the other world. It lets you connect, it lets you exist in their realm, and you can’t help but filter everything new through that lens because it’s the brightest, most wonderful thing. (I had been between hyperfixations for a while when I started a new job; six months into that work, I read Crooked Kingdom. One of my coworkers thought I had fallen in love, it was that marked a difference.)

So, combining these: Wylan never really acts like he was part of his father’s world, and indeed is in some ways separate from the other Crows, but he parses everything through music, his hyperfixation. He sets words to music to remember them, like he does with the contract. Even his own anxiety is made sense of through music, when in his first narrated chapter, he sets it to music: what am I doing here what am I doing here…. When he’s overwhelmed, his thoughts are “a jangle of misplayed chords”. The Crows have backgrounds that influence how they react to the world, but Wylan’s hyperfixation is his means of experiencing and understanding the world.

2 - Literal thinking: Wylan responds to exact words

In this post, I went into detail on the line where Wylan suggested waking up men to kill them. Wylan is generally unsupportive of killing people—Oomen, Smeet’s clerk, his father… he advocates not-murder in each of these situations. Accepting his aversion to murder, his suggestion to wake men up and kill them seems like a genuine reaction to Jesper saying he doesn’t want to kill unconscious men. Wylan takes things literally.

This happens the most with Jesper, probably because Jesper talks to Wylan the most. Nina and Matthias don’t really register him past how he might be useful, Inej is usually quite direct, and Kaz is very deliberate when he speaks with Wylan. This really interests me because Kaz tends to vary his speech more than the others do, he adapts more to being around other people. He jokes a little with Jesper, spars with Nina, speaks more openly and more sharply with Inej, and he’s precise with Wylan. Kaz may not know what autism is, but he recognizes what’s effective with Wylan.

Another example is when Wylan is sketching the Ice Court plans and Jesper says it looks like a cake. There are plenty of valid responses here: pointing out that concentric circles look like lots of things, that it’s just a sketch, telling Jesper to stop looking over his shoulder. Instead, Wylan says that the Ice Court is sort of like a cake. That… doesn’t sound like something Wylan would normally say. He’s not addressing the whole situation, he’s addressing the specific words Jesper said.

One of the most heartbreaking examples of this (to me, anyway) is with Marya. Wylan does the same thing with his mother, when she asks if he’s there for her money and says she hasn’t got any, and his response is, “I don’t either.” We understand as readers that what Marya is communicating here is that she is so accustomed to being utterly ignored unless she is being used, and if she told Wylan that no one visited but to take advantage and she assumed he was here for the same reason, he would say it wasn’t the case. But he just responds to the immediate statement.

There are a lot of examples of this.

3 — 0% perception, 100% creativity

Wylan can identify things that don’t make sense or that he doesn’t understand, but at the beginning of the series he can’t make leaps, only ask questions. On the Ferolind, he wonders about the source of water at the Ice Court; though Kaz doesn’t say as much, he was clearly wondering, too, because he eventually figured out the underground river. There’s an interesting parallel here where, in the beginning of Crooked Kingdom, Wylan asks a question about how they’ll break into Smeet’s and Kaz tells him to use his eyes instead of running his mouth—at which point Wylan is able to figure it out. I don’t think this is because he never tried before, though, but because no one ever bothered to teach him. Kaz can be harsh but he gives harsh corrections rather than harsh rejections and Wylan learns from him.

It’s hard to understand the world for people with autism. The world is designed and run by and for people whose minds are fundamentally different from ours, whose thoughts and experiences are unlike ours. Imagine trying to learn English or Spanish or Mandarin or any other spoken language if your first language was olfactory. That’s sort of what it’s like for someone with autism to just get dropped into the world and expected to figure this out.

This can be attributed to Wylan’s upbringing, but I disagree with that because none of the others were brought up in the Barrel, either, and Wylan doesn’t understand trade or politics with any special skill. Kaz wasn’t born in the Barrel, but he managed to go from “stealing is wrong” to “wrong isn’t my concern” real quick; Colm Fahey didn’t raise his son on gambling and firefights; the Ghafas never expected their daughter to be away from the family. Only Nina has relevant training—and even that’s precious little, she left school way too early. The others figured it out; Wylan needed a bit more help. He also seems surprised by the way his father conducts business. Wylan takes things on face value—like the time he’s surprised someone would do something, simply because it’s unlawful. This is something he expresses to a group of gangsters. He’s never been taught the way of any world and these things are not intuitive to him.

But Wylan isn’t stupid.

He doesn’t know how to understand the world, but he does understand how things go together. Given a pointy diamond, a handle, and a screw, he cut through Grisha glass. He carries flashbangs and magic napalm, he recreates military hardware—Wylan understands how to make things interact for a specific result. But to me the most telling thing isn’t just that he puts together chemical pieces, it’s that he figured out Jesper controlled bullets. He saw the pieces and put them together.

Wylan can understand when things don’t make sense, but he can’t make sense of them—yet when he understands things at their basic level, he understands them without preconception, for what they are. This is a very autistic way of thinking about things, it goes back to the literalism. He can’t make the leaps of logic other people can, but he also doesn’t make the assumptions they do—“I’ve never heard of a bullet Grisha, so that’s not a thing” vs “Well Jesper’s an almost impossibly good shot and he controls metal and bullets are metal, so why not?”

4 - Broken brain/body connection

Wylan’s great at chemistry and drawing and playing flute or piano—but he’s something of a disaster other times. This is in particular contrast to the other characters, all of whom are physically adept. Meanwhile it’s a challenge for Wylan to climb a rope ladder and he spends a full paragraph trying to figure out what to do with his hands. It’s easy to say, well, he’s used to a sedentary lifestyle, but at this point he’s not. He’s worked in the tannery for months. He’s just physically awkward.

I have less to say on this point only because it’s about something I don’t fully understand myself. I don’t really understand what it would be like to have a body that just… does things? Like normal stuff? Without tics and stims. No idea. Only that Wylan’s discomfort in and seeming lack of mastery of his own body feels very relatable to me.

5 - Abuse

One of the most familiar things about Wylan is how he has been so thoroughly abused and broken down that he’s afraid to do or say much of anything. Again, this is a place his background can be an obscuring factor. Of course Wylan didn’t think to blow up the walls when the first met the parem-juiced jurda and got trapped, he’s a spoiled rich kid! Except, he also startled when Jesper said his name later. Wylan didn’t hesitate because he was spoiled, he hesitated because he had no confidence.

He also thinks Kaz would laugh at him for playing music at his mother’s grave. Now, personally, I can’t see Kaz laughing at Wylan—being indifferent, thinking it’s pointless sentimentality, shaking his head, maybe commenting sharply that they need to go if they don’t have the time. But not laughing. Kaz is a snarky, sharp-edged jerk sometimes, but he doesn’t go out of his way to criticize, he just lets people know when they inconvenience him.

Wylan has been trained to identify attention as negative by an overbearing abusive father who literally saw him as less favorable than a demon. Now, that may have been hyperbole, but Jan criticized everything he could about Wylan—art, music, emotion—and made clear that he was worthless and competent to nothing. (Jan Van Eck can suck a rotten donkey dick but that’s neither here nor there.)

A lot of people with autism experience levels of bullying that have similar impacts. Or as the kids these days are calling it: we go to school. We go to school where we are weird. Where we look weird and move weird and talk about weird things and there’s a whole little bevy of asswipes to makes sure we know it. I got teased more for playing Pokemon and sitting alone reading than the kid who pissed himself onstage at assembly. (This was before Pokemon was cool. I’m old.) And that is not unusual for autistic kids. It’s also not unusual for this to be compounded by relatives or even parents who may be trying to help but don’t understand and can make things even harder.

So we can’t read social cues and we’re taught at a vicious age that everything that comes naturally to us is wrong. Imagine trying to interact in society with that background. There is no guide and most advice from neurotypical people isn’t actually what they mean. It breaks you down.

Wylan’s anxiety isn’t definitive of autism, but isn’t something that was incredibly familiar as someone whose neurodivergent experiences created a strong level of anxiety.

6 — High Compassion, Low Social Competence

Wylan isn’t very good at making friends. In fact, none of the Crows likes him much in the beginning, and only some of them soften toward him by the end. (Matthias and Nina come to respect his skills as a chemist but neither seems to particularly like him.) But you can see throughout the books that Wylan wants to connect with them and be one of them, he just… isn’t. He’s off-beat. He’s weird. He asks questions and mimics behaviors (trying to be cool and tough like Jesper, saying “mission” like Matthias does, imitating Kaz’s scheming face) but he doesn’t quite get how to adapt.

But he still cares about people. Not just them. Everyone. He cares about the people they leave in the ditch outside the prison wagon, he cares about Hanna Smeet, he cares about Alys. He cares about the people who’ll take a hit from Kaz’s sugar caper.

Wylan’s awkward social skills have undeniable big autism energy. I posit his compassion does as well. This is simply who Wylan is, and that means being someone who cares about everyone. I have nothing to back up that this is related to autism. I can say that it’s like me. (Not to brag.) I can’t turn off the part of my brain that says everyone matters. Individuals can opt out of that compassion, but they have it by default. There’s a certain agony in feeling a pull toward and love for just about everyone and yet an inability to develop meaningful connections with them, and that keen loneliness… it just burns.

Again, it’s not definitive of autism, but it’s very similar to an autistic experience.

I said in the beginning that I didn’t think Wylan certainly had autism and I stand by that, but he is a powerfully honest reflection of many people who do. So he can be understood to have autism, and that’s part of the reason some people have that headcanon.

#six of crows #wylan van eck #autism #actually autistic

60 notes · View notes

thechangeling · 3 years

Text

But you like her better: Part 2

Sorry it's been a minute! I hope you like it.

Cw: Some brief ableism, mentions of internalized biphobia, and self injurious stimming.

2013

It was raining when 16 year old María Machado Sotomayor first met Kit Herondale.

Marí had always loved the sound of the rain. It was peaceful and rhythmic, creating a nice tingly feeling in her skull running straight down her spine. It also good for the plants. Which meant that Marí arrived (on time for once) at her favorite class in a pretty good mood.

Marine biology was their one of their three special interests, the other two being lacrosse and Base guitar. So Bio was usually pretty fun for them. However this time was different.

Her mood was instantly dampened when she walked into class and saw someone new sitting in her usually seat. A blond, short and white kid who looked far too pretty for his own good. A new kid most likely.

A new kid who didn't realize that Marí always sat by the window every single day. It was their spot. Still Marí was determined not to overreact. They marched over to the new kid and approached him with their best masking smile.

Remember eye contact. She told herself. Keep your tone light and breezy but not too lifeless. Smile. Appear friendly and non threatening. Try not to sweat. Try not to scream.

"Hi excuse me," Marí began in a sickly sweet tone. "That's actually my seat! Sorry!"

The boy instantly looked embarrassed and apologetic. "Oh I'm sorry!" He blushed. "I didn't realize there was assigned seating." He had an American accent, California maybe?

Wonderful. A white American boy. Just what they needed.

Marí chewed their lip and fought the urge to rock or tap. "There isn't actually," they admitted. "I just usually sit there. So can you please move?"

Now the new kid looked a little offended. A cold look settled over his face. "Well why should I?" He bristled. "This seat isn't really yours. It's not like it has your name on it."

Marí rolled her eyes in frustration. "I tried that already but then I got in trouble."

He stared at them curiously for a moment. Marí took the opportunity to break eye contact finally and scuff their heel against the floor. They were wearing the new black suede chunky heels with the gem stones that Marí had gotten when they went thrifting with their friends.

"María!" The harsh voice of her teacher snapped her back into reality. Everyone had arrived and taken their seats while she was arguing with the American and now everyone was staring at her. "Could you please explain why you are not seated young lady?" She snapped in her extra pretentious sounding posh English accent.

The one that said, "I'm better than you."

Marí tried not to growl at being called a young lady. They weren't feeling particularly female today. Not that Marí was going to bother explaining that to some old British hag.

"He won't get out of my seat!" Marí protested. Instantly laughter broke out around the classroom. Cruel mocking laughter that made Marí feel like her skin was crawling.

"It's ok!" The new kid cried out, practically jumping out of Marí's seat. "I'll move! I'll go sit over here." He grabbed his bag and moved to the back of the room as quickly as possible.

Marí smiled in spite of themself. His random act of kindness was surprising, but they were grateful. They took their seat near the window and sighed in relief.

Marí would always look back on that day with fondness no matter what. It may not have seemed like much to him, but it meant the world to her. After Bio class she had asked Kit to come eat with her and her friends. They had made their introductions and the rest was history.

They became close friends very quickly, bonding over movies and music. They sent each other playlists of their favorite songs and songs that reminded them of each other. Marí made Kit a queer playlist with songs by queer artists and told Kit that they were bisexual and a demigirl. They hadn't even told their friends that last part yet at that point.

Marí also told Kit that they liked to use she/they pronouns, but so far was only using them online. Kit asked Marí a lot of questions then confessed to Marí that he was also bisexual but he was still kinda getting used to it.

"I grew up in a shitty situation," Kit had told them. "I guess I still have a lot of shame."

Marí didn't hold it against him. She bought him queer literature and resources for queer history including "Bisexuality and Queer Theory" and her printed copy of the article published in the 90s called "The Bisexual Manifesto." She gave him advice on websites and people to follow online.

They also just talked. Talked about life and their experiences. Their feelings and their relationships with their sexualities. Bonding with another queer person was always special but spending time with Kit always made Marí feel so...light.

Despite how close they were getting, Marí didn't always want to touch him. They were touch averse in most cases unless they were very comfortable with someone. Sometimes it just depended on the day. On the days where Marí found they could not hug Kit they had invented their own way to show affection.

They would place a hand over their hearts and tap it, as if to say "I care about you" or "I love you." Sometimes Kit would say "tap my heart" as a substitute for actually doing it.

He introduced her to his close friend Janessa, the wayward vampire who was incredibly hot and kind of made Marí all nervous and tounge twisty at first. But as they got to know her, Marí realized that she was also incredibly kind, passionate and clearly cared at great deal about Kit. Janessa was a gamer who had named herself after a video game character. She drank cups of warm blood in novelty mugs with giant swirly sparkly straws and was pretty good at making people laugh.

Janessa, or Nessie as Kit had affectionately nicknamed her, was flirtatious and charismatic, but also brutal and deadly in a fight. She was full of surprises. And maybe, just maybe Marì was a little bit into that.

However as much as Marí didn't want to admit it, they were also were starting to realize that they were way more into someone else. Someone with perfect golden curls that Marí wanted to curl their fingers into.

Eventually Kit came out to Marí as genderfluid and requested that she use alternating he/they pronouns for them. They both made the decision to collectively tell their friends their pronouns. Marí, Kit and Nessie sat around her gorgeous leather couch and talked for hours about gender, identity and transness. Kit pointed put that they may never be able to fully explain their gender to the other two, just like Kit might have a hard time fully understanding Janessa's relationship with gender, or Marí's because everyone was different.

"It's personal Nessie," he had said. "Everyone has their own unique perspective on gender and every trans person has their own complicated feelings about gender and what their own gender identity means to them, and those feelings might not completely match up with another trans person's. But that's ok. You don't have to understand the other person but you do have to respect them."

Janessa's understanding of gender came from being a trans women. It was about a strict binary with clear lines and rules. Rules that Kit was starting to make a habit of fingerpainting all over and Marí could tell that it was stressing her out.

And Marí had no idea where the hell they fit in these rules. They had stopped playing the game.

But those two loved each other more than anything, and Marí knew they could work anything out. And sure enough approximately seven hours and four margaritas later (only two for Marí,) they had come to an understanding.

2014

She kissed Kit for the first time a month into the new year.

They had been trying on clothes in Marí's room and Kit was wearing one of their old dresses that Marí thought they looked amazing in, but Kit wanted to give it away. It was dark navy blue and sparkly with spaghetti straps, coming to about mid thigh. There were cut outs on the sides, filled in with black sheer fabric, and it had a low v cut at the neckline which was also filled in with black sheer.

Kit had been infodumping about one of the Marvel movies again, Marí couldn't remember which one, and she had kept getting distracted by his tan smooth skin peaking through the sheer fabric and fullness of Kit's moving lips. He smiled excitedly and Marí had stepped forward and kissed him.

Their first thought was that Kit tasted like chocolate. Their second was that they should have done this months ago.

Kit had melted into the kiss, smiling slightly against her mouth and pulling her closer. They kissed her feverishly, sliding their tounge inside Marí's mouth and moaning when she deepened the kiss eagerly. They moved against each other with almost lazy, comfortable precision, kissing each other for what could have been hours or days or maybe only seconds.

Marí couldn't have said.

When Kit finally broke the kiss and pulled away from Marí, his eyes were practically gleaming with joy and love. And that was when they knew.

I love him.

2015

I love him.

Ty's words ran in her ears. Repeating over and over again, maddenly bouncing around inside of her skull until she was forced to utter out loud,

"I love him".

They whispered it under their breath but Marí could tell that both Alyssa and Ty had heard them. It was so quiet you could probably hear a pin drop.

But of course. Of course he does. It was obvious. This whole time Marí had noticed there was something wrong with Ty. Just like there was something wrong with Kit. The way they stared after each other when they thought the other one wasn't looking. The loving and worshipful glances mixed with the bitter glares.

Marí had already known that Kit was in love with Ty of course. But the way they had told the story made it seem like they were positive that Ty couldn't be in love with them.

But then again maybe that made sense. Given Kit's history and who he was. But then Marí couldn't help but think of Ty and how confused he must have been. God it was a giant mess.

Speaking of...

The room was still silent. Marí found that she couldn't read Ty's expression as he stared back at her flatly. But his body was shaking, his fingers fluttered at his sides. She wanted to soothe him.

They stepped forward carefully. "I'm not mad at you," Marí assured him. "I was hoping we could talk?"

Ty's left eye twitched. "We are talking," he pointed out. Alyssa snorted.

"Ty, they mean about the proverbial bomb you just dropped a few seconds ago," Alyssa said with a laugh. Marí smirked to themself slightly.

It wasn't really a bomb. More like a flare.

She really needed to talk to Ty. The only problem was Alyssa had an annoying tendency to never leave his side. It wasn't like she had a problem with the girl. Of course not. But her presence meant that Marí hadn't had the opportunity to talk to Ty one on one.

They cleared their throat. "Alyssa could you please give Ty and I some space to talk?" They asked. Marí hoped they didn't sound too rude. Alyssa looked to Ty and he nodded slightly, signaling that he was ok with her leaving.

That was so strange to Marí. Their relationship. The way Alyssa, a werewolf who hated shadowhunters even more then Marí did, essentially took orders from him and clearly trusted him more than anyone else. But perhaps she wasn't one to judge.

After all, she loved Kit.

Alyssa left the room with a pat on Ty's back and a quick, "call if you need me." Marí shifted their weight back and forth as they rocked slightly from side to side as they waited for Ty to speak.

He stared back at her silently, most likely doing the same. Marí blew out a loud breath and forced herself to stay still, crossing her arms.

"Are you going to say something or should I?" Ty asked expectantly. Marí bit their lip and shrugged.

"I'm still thinking of what I wanna say," she admitted.

Ty smiled at her softly. "So am I."

There we go. Cracks in the armour.

"I'm sorry," Ty whispered suddenly. "I never meant to-"

"You don't have to apologize!" Marí blurted out. Whoops they had interrupted him. "Oh shit sorry you were still talking!" They reached for their hair nervously and realized that they were wearing that Morticia wig for their costume.

Great. Marí moved on to chewing on her knuckles.

"It's ok," Ty reassured her. "I don't really know where I was going with that sentence. And you shouldn't do that." He pointed to her hand.

Marí scoffed, "yeah well you shouldn't dig your nails into your palms." He glared at them and they laughed.

"Not so fun playing a game of Mirror Image is it?" They teased. Ty didn't respond, just stared at Marí solemnly.

"You know I really admire you," he said, aiming his gaze close enough to hers to create the illusion of eye contact. "I always have. I never wanted to hurt or upset you."

Marí wished for a brief moment that they could touch him and then shrugged the impulse off. "I know love," they cooed. "Me too."

Without really understanding why, she pressed her hand to her chest directly above her heart and tapped, just like how she did with Kit. Ty studied Marí for a moment and then followed suite.

Marí in spite of themself, actually felt bad for him. They could clearly see the toll the last three years had taken on him, specifically the last few weeks. Maybe his family couldn't see it, and they definitely knew that Kit couldn't, but Marí could.

Marí of all people could see past the mask because they knew what masking looked like. It wasn't just about appearing normal, whatever that word meant. It was about hiding your feelings. Taking that heart you wore on your sleeve and locking it up tight. But everytime Marí looked at Ty, they could see it. And it was bleeding.

Ripped and bloody and broken, just like her own and yet they both still had the sheer audacity to keep breathing. Marí was proud of them both.

"You need to talk to him," Marí prompted. "You both need to be honest with each other."

Ty furrowed his brow. "Honest? About what? He doesn't feel the same way." He had gone back to flicking his fingers as he stared at her, looking puzzled.

Bloody hell between the two of them, Kit and Ty were giving Marí the mother of all headaches.

They took a deep breath. "Yes they do Ty," Marí tried not to sound exasperated. "Kit is in love with you, believe me. They told me."

It hurt Marí's heart to have to say it, but it was true and Ty deserved to know the truth. And they knew deep down that Kit wouldn't really be happy, he wouldn't be Kit until he had Ty. And Marí had to make their peace with that.

Ty looked understandably confused. He ran a frantic hand through his hair. "But why are you telling me this? Why are you helping me?" He asked. "Don't you love them?"

She fought the urge to cry as tears gathered in her eyes. She found herself digging her nails into her palms despite chastising Ty for doing it a few minutes ago.

"I'm telling you all of this because I love them" she cried desperately. "Because Kit cries out your name in his sleep Ty! Because everytime he sees you, he stares at you like you are the moon the sun and the stars! Because everytime you speak they hang onto absolutely every word, and when you laugh-" Marí cut herself off.

They squeezed their eyes shut and took deep long breaths. Ty said nothing. Marí opened their eyes to see Ty staring at them in dismay. He looked like he was trying to think of what to say to help.

Marí shook their head. "I know Kit loves me. And they probably always will. We were close friends even before we started dating." Marí groaned and shook out their entire body this time, jumping up and down a few times as well to get rid of the tension. If Ty thought this was weird he didn't comment on it.

Marí wiped her eyes carefully trying not to smudge her mascara. "But you Ty?" His eyes refocused on her again at the sound of his name. Marí chuckled humourlessly. "Fucking hell, he is in love with you. And right now he is thinking that you hate him and I know it's tearing him up inside."

Ty stared at Marí hopelessly, looking overwhelmed and exhausted. "So what do I do then? What am I supposed to say?"

Marí shrugged. "I can't help you with that I'm sorry. It has to come from you." Ty looked even more panicked.

They gave him what they hoped was an encouraging smile. "Don't be scared Ty," they murmered. "It's Kit remember. They're not scary. You have nothing to worry about."

Ty didn't answer her. He had wrapped his arms around his body, squeezing tightly. "Marí do you remember those dead moon jellyfish we buried on the beach?" He asked.

She was a little confused as to why he was bringing this up now. "Yeah? Why?"

"That's what I feel like right now," Ty admitted. "Like I've washed up on the beach and now I'm just waiting for someone to come along and step on me."

Marí's heart sank. "Oh Ty," they breathed. "I promise that won't happen with Kit. I can't make any promises for anyone else, but I do know that Kit has absolutely no intention of hurting you again love."

Ty looked pensive. Marí could only hope that Ty would make the decision to trust them.

With a sudden jolt Marí remembered the party.

"Hey we still have the Halloween party to go to," she said, shaking Ty out of his stupor. "Do you still wanna go?"

To their surprise, Ty nodded. "Sure. I think Alyssa might kill me if I back out now."

Marí snorted. Alyssa Reyes could be pretty terrifying at times.

With surprise Marí found that their spirts were lighter having cleared the air with Ty and with the prospect of a party being renewed.

She smiled. "All right then let's head out!" Marí smoothed down the long black wig over her shoulders and quickly smoothed out the long skirt of her black slinky dress before turning and exiting the training room.

She knew that she would have to talk to Kit at some point and that conversation would be brutal. But at least they could have one last night together.

It's better this way. Marí told themself as they walked back towards the main living room where everyone was gathered. At least now Kit can be happy.

It's for the best.

It has to be.

So I'm actually planning on writing a part 3 from Kit's pov because the drama isn't over yet! 😏

Tag list: lmk if you wanna be added/removed.

@playwithravenclaw @lavender-scented-rat @jazzkaurtheglorious @waterlillies @nott-the-best @stxr-thxif @magnus-the-fabulous-entp-bane @foxglove-airmid @littlx-songbxrd @clarys-heosphoros @queenlilith43 @arangiajoan @hardlymatters @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @tired-vin @phoenix-and-dragon @the-blackdale @adoravel-fenomeno @the-wckd-powers

#tsc #twp #kit x ty #marí the werewolf #the wicked powers #maría machado sotomayor #we stan autistic bonding #we stan queer bonding

57 notes · View notes