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teencopandthesourwolf · 6 months

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“Here!”

Stiles slams something down on the coffee table to the left of Derek's (Stiles's) laptop.

Derek is searching online, only a little psychotically, in the hope of finding a store that sells these very specific organic coffee beans he tried in a hipster coffee house recently. Derek isn't a hipster—he isn't—he just likes nice coffee, is all. Really, he should have asked the barista to find out not just the brand name but their supplier's address too because this is driving him insane. Maybe he is insane? More likely just incredibly shit at the internet, but he thinks he'd prefer to plead insanity if challenged.

Derek unknits his eyebrows and looks down at… a green thing. It's sort of feather shaped and has many spindles with bronzed edges.

It's a leaf.

His eyebrows knit themselves back together as he blinks down at the thing a couple of times.

“It's a leaf,” he says, because he doesn't know what else he's supposed to say.

Then he looks up—and back and forth at Stiles who is now pacing the apartment and alternating between clicking his fingers and flicking his thumbs and shaking his arms out at the sides of his body; his stimming can get pretty extra when he's anxious.

Derek's frown deepens with immediate concern. He must've really been deep in it with the infuriating Google searching to not have noticed the smell of Stiles's distress when his mate first arrived home.

“Hey, what's—”

“Yes, Derek, it's a leaf. It is a leaf that I brought all the way home. For you. From the cemetery.”

He's still pacing.

“Okay, well do you want to tell me—“

“It's an Apology Leaf. Obviously.”

Obviously.

“And, Derek, do not laugh, because—"

“I won't but could you just—“

“—this isn't funny. I'm ridiculous, I know, and I know that that's funny. But this? This is decidedly deeply unfunny, alright? This is totally not at all funny, Derek. It's like, a thing without one tiny ounce of humour in it, as in not the slightest bit funny in a gazillion sombre years. Do you hear me?” He inhales deeply, holds the breath, then blows it out harshly via puffed-out cheeks as he clicks and flails some more.

Derek hears Stiles and is of course prepared to wait for him to explain whatever this is, because Derek would wait for Stiles until the end of time, if he had to. Although that's not likely a thing to happen in any reality as this is Stiles who can't go for longer than fifteen seconds without talking. But still, Derek thinks it's the sentiment that counts.

“You, Derek Hale, are good, and someone as good as you deserves somebody far, far better than a ratbag like me. Hence the leaf,” Stiles now tells him in a rush of even more confusing words, his chemo-signals tinged with shame for some worrying reason Derek is yet to discern.

Stiles glances over anxiously from his place of animated, mysterious penance—and then looks away again just as quickly while still trying to wear footprints into the recently painted varnish on the wooden floor of their new apartment.

Derek is clueless as to the cause of Stiles's meltdown, but neither things are a first. Stiles struggles sometimes—just like Derek does, who has plenty of his own outbursts (albeit more moody than vocal) that Stiles has to Private Dick his way through.

Derek is also trying his best not to worry too much about thinking that this is somehow his fault, so now sets his mind on attempting to marry these seemingly unrelated things in his head.

He thinks about the facts he's been presented with:

What is, at an educated guess, a Pacific Yew leaf.

and

Stiles's rather unhinged and self-deprecating dig at himself-slash-compliment for Derek.

...Yeah, no, he's not getting better at this game any time soon.

“Uh,” he says helpfully, and Stiles rolls his eyes in that Do I really have to do everything myself around here? way of his which, rude.

Good job Derek loves the kook.

“It was just sitting there, on top of my mom's gravestone when I got there,” Stiles says quietly, incredulously, gesturing at the innocuous leaf.

Then he's off again with the pacing.

“And I knew, straight away, I knew,” he says, getting louder again and laughing in this accusatory sort of way, pointing somewhere into the ether, eyes manic.

Derek scratches his nose. He hopes he will soon know, too, because honestly, he's kind of blindfolded in the dark here.

“She was obviously telling me what a dipshit I was! What a douche I am! A massive ass-hat! Total loser!”

“I mean, that's mostly fair, but maybe total loser is a little strong.” Derek will often speak Stiles's language when Stiles is freaking out, using humour to try and ground him.

Stiles carries on as if Derek hadn’t said anything.

“And I was like, Come on, mom, give me a break, will you? and she was like Seriously, Mischief? You really wouldn't let the special person in your life, your special little guy—”

“You can just say boyfriend, Stiles.”

“—come with you to the cemetery to visit me? Like, as if with that leaf she was reminding me that you are the one person who actually gets this shit, which, I do know. Of fucking course I know. And then—get this—I swear to God, Derek, I felt her literally slapping me upside the head! No fucking word of a lie, man. Like, thousands wouldn't believe me. Millions. They'd say that it must have been the wind or my incredibly vivid imagination. But I know, Der. I know that it was her,” Stiles continues with the confession without stopping for breath.

Derek has thought it before and he'll think it again: the kid's lung capacity is seriously impressive.

“And I also know that I totally should've said yes when you asked me if I wanted you to come with me to the cemetery this morning. Because the thing is, I did want you to. I really, really did. But I just… I just…”

Stiles starts slapping himself on the forehead with both his hands and Derek has had enough of that already. He gets up off the sofa and walks over to Stiles, catching those slim wrists in his grip, gentle yet firm.

“Please don't,” Derek says, imploring Stiles to stop. Derek can understand frustration, but can't stand Stiles hurting himself.

Stiles deflates a little. He then takes a step towards Derek and leans in, resting his forehead against Derek's, their noses lining up like penguins.

“I just—I should have said yes to you when you asked because I honestly, truthfully wanted you there. It's just that I've only ever been there with my Dad. And even then, not as many times as you might think. Not even Scotty has been there with me. It's just a place—it's usually something I do alone. You know?” Stiles' front teeth worry at his pretty lip.

And yes, Derek does know.

So he says, “Because you feel guilt, right? Even though there isn't a thing in this universe or any other that you should feel guilty about.”

Guilt just for being alive.

Slightly cross-eyed with the proximity and angle, Stiles looks at Derek in a way that says he knows just how much Derek knows about this stuff.

“Yeah. Yes, exactly. And I guess I didn't know how to be that with somebody else around.”

“But Stiles, that's completely—”

“No, Der. It isn't, actually. Because you're not just somebody else. It's you. And I'm in love with you.” Stiles finally takes a breath while Derek's heart is busy swelling to twice it's size. He will never tire of hearing Stiles Stilinski say those words to him. “And I absolutely should've trusted in that. In us.”

It is, of course, completely fine that Stiles went to the cemetery alone to visit his mother, but Derek also gets where the kid is coming from. He too takes a breath, now, a big one, because this kind of stuff doesn't come as easily for him as it does Stiles.

He swallows his nerves and pushes on.

“I love you, Stiles. And it's alright that we're not perfect. Neither of us are. Us—you and me—we're both just… Finding our way.”

After a moment, Stiles adds, “Together.”

They smile at each other like huge dorks.

“Yeah.” Derek breathes, and his heart might just burst.

Derek scents Stiles, and Stiles breathes deeply too, now. “Thanks,” he says, then Derek kisses him, just as deep and for a long while, because it's his favourite thing to do in the whole damn world.

Eventually Derek pulls back, runs a thumb over Stiles's mouth and says, “You know what?”

Stiles's brow lifts inquisitively.

Derek lets go of Stiles's wrist and takes his hand instead, leading him back to the sofa and sitting them both down squarely by the coffee table where he had been sat fruitlessly Googling not so long ago.

“I believe you,” Derek says.

Stiles frowns. “Huh?” It's his turn to be confused.

“Millions wouldn't, but I believe you, Stiles. About your mom.”

He reaches across and picks up the Apology Leaf, cradling it for a brief moment in his palm before nudging at Stiles's hand and urging him to take it, which he does.

Derek then grabs the laptop, side-eyeing his previous Google search—WHO NEAR ME SELLS PHOENIX ROAST ORGANIC COFFEE BEANS THAT TASTE LIKE HOME—and forcing himself not to get instantly sucked back into that particularly vexing nightmare, while also trying his best to angle the screen away from Stiles who, if he saw, would fall off the sofa laughing at Derek's admittedly pathetic research skills.

Not everybody is a… Technophile? Cyberpunk? Derek has no fucking clue about any of this shit.

With Stiles now passing comment on the aesthetic qualities of the Apology Leaf, Derek uses both index fingers to tap out the words of the thing he wants to look up, taking no notice of Stiles who is trying his annoying not-very-best to smirk at Derek's sorry efforts in Derek's periphery. Clicking through a few different links, this time Derek manages to find what he's after without any trouble, amazingly. He then hands the laptop over to Stiles, who carefully places the leaf down on the arm of the sofa beside him before fully taking the computer from Derek.

Stiles purses those pretty lips of his as he scans the information on screen, squinting a little.

“Uh, well yeah. It's like you said, Der; It's a leaf. From a Yew, according to this.��

Derek rolls his eyes. “Your mother's ghost is infinitely more clever than you.” Stiles's squint deepens further. “Stiles, she is absolutely spot on about this. Just—scroll down the page a bit, dumbass,” and he ducks his head and smiles, seeing as accusing Stiles of Internet-related Dumbassery is really fucking funny because, irony.

Stiles tuts but does as he's told.

Derek gives him a minute to read the passage on the website he found. It says:

The Yew tree can live for many, many years. It has deep connections with magic and the universe. It was regarded as the protector of the soul by the ancient Greeks. You’ll find this tree planted at many burial sites throughout the world as it’s recognized as a guardian of the dead.

It is believed that Odin (from the Nordic legend) hung himself from the Yew for nine days and nights. It’s symbolic of its everlasting and regenerative properties and is often associated with transformation and change after a difficult time. The Celtic tradition honours the Yew tree for symbolising death and rebirth.

Stiles is smiling this gorgeous, open smile by the time he's finished reading, and Derek makes an unrealistic wish to be able to keep it there forever.

“So, you were right,” Derek says, “when you said that she knew. You were just a little mixed up about what, is all.” Derek takes another deep breath. “What your mom knows is that you got the chance to begin again, Stiles. After all the shit we went through, you actually got to start over. With somebody who will absolutely protect your soul with their life.”

Stiles suddenly blinks furiously, like somebody just threw salt in his eyes.

“And you knew it, that she knew... something,” Derek smiles back, lovingly, before that smile turns a little wry. “It's just that you were kind of—now, how should I put this…?”

“No. Do not do it!” Stiles shouts—instantly catching on because he'd easily be the brightest bulb in any box—and he's pointing again, at Derek this time. “Puns are my stupid thing, you charlatan, and I can and will sue!” he warns, outraged yet smiling again as he wipes at his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt.

“—barking up the wrong tree,” Derek finishes, his smile now positively wolfish.

Stiles shakes his head and narrows his eyes, but he's chuckling, too as he says, “You do remember that it's you who's the canine in this relationship, right, 'wolf? If anybody's going to be making barking sounds, it's you.”

“Speciesist,” Derek quips.

Stiles pokes his tongue out. Then he's quiet for a few seconds (but definitely no more than fifteen).

“You know, I really was wrong when I said you deserve better than me. We actually absolutely deserve each other, Hale. Because it turns out we are both humongous assholes.”

After a moment, Derek grins more.

“Well, I would have answered that with I love my asshole, but you had to go and use the word humongous, and there's no way I would say that about my asshole—even though I would have technically been talking about you when I said it, seeing as it's actually you that is my favourite asshole.” And he pulls a rare, goofy face, just for Stiles, who laps it up. “Also, thinking about it, I would also have to say that loving my actual asshole is, in fact," he points at Stiles, “your job.”

Stiles dramatically slaps a hand over Derek's mouth.

“Oh my God, Derek, stop! My ghostly mother could be listening in to us right now! Jeez, dude, have a little decorum, won't you?!” And if Stiles saying that isn't ironic, Derek really doesn’t know what is.

“Sorry, mom!”

Grinning even more, Derek pushes Stiles's hand away from his face.

“Hey, wanna know the coolest thing?” he asks.

“Why in the name of anything sacred did you bother posing that as a question, Der? Like, when would I ever say no to that?”

Derek leans over and kisses Stiles again, soft and languid this time. The boy's lips are dry and warm and he tastes just like autumn.

Stiles hums and smiles into Derek's mouth as if he really, truly does love Derek.

After another glorious moment, Derek pulls back, looks at Stiles and says, “Yew trees aren't even native to this part of California.”

for @greyhavenisback my beloved <3 sorry i'm a dipshit, douche, massive ass-hat and a total loser, sometimes xp

(i got the info on tree symbolism HERE btw)

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risuola · 7 months

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BREATHE THROUGH YOUR NOSE — F. READER x KAMO CHOSO, who’s your not-so-ordinary roommate

Blood is Choso’s thing, so it’s no surprise that he’s absolutely turned on when you show up in your shared room covered in it. Quickly, he abandoned watching tv and focused all of his attention on you. To help you, of course.

cw: smut, temperature play, breath play, choking, blood kink, body worship, littlest bit of aftercare, Choso is mean, but also he's the sweetest bean (couldn't decide), reader discretion is advised — 2,4k words

masterlist

“Breathe through your nose.” Choso’s deep, labored tone barely got acknowledged by your brain and something akin to hmph! made an attempt to leave your throat. You really couldn’t remember exactly how the hell you ended up there, on the leathery couch in your shared room, on your knees and elbows, with hands clenching the slippery fabric just to steady yourself a little bit.

Kamo was right beside you, ruthlessly pounding into you with all of the force his muscled body contained, bullying his cock deep into your soaked and dripping insides. For a good while now, he kept his large hand roughly pressed over your mouth, limiting your airflow enough to have you struggle. Breathe through your nose, he advised you with a wicked smirk twisting his lip line but that was easier said than done. It wasn’t him who was nearly choking on his own tears and moans.

Your senses were hazed and eyes tightly shut, you couldn’t properly focus on the oxygen when he was just so harsh with the way his hips were thrusting into you, his pelvis clashing with your ass time after time, pushing you over the edge of insanity with so much ease it was just horrifying. If there was anything that you would never suspect Choso to do, that was it. You knew the death painting long enough to have a pretty solid opinion on him – he was calm, stoic even. Sometimes silly and very caring, but overall, he wasn’t giving off the vibe of I can and I will fuck you dumb kind of man. Damn, you didn’t even suspect him of really having any sexual drive to begin with, although that would be your mistake. He was, after all, half-human, but now, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that it was actually his curse side that made him so insatiable. So ruthless and dominant.

You gasped for air desperately when for a short second he loosened up the bruising grip he had on your face, only to take away your freedom of breathing once more. It was taunting, he basked in the way you tried to fill in your lungs and with almost psychotic satisfaction he took that away from you again. The mind-numbing, eye-watering pistons of his dick didn’t stop for a single moment as he persistently was making his way under your skin and into your soul. All you could see was blur of dark, night shades and red, so much red. Your red.

You got to your shared room late, after the unfortunate encounter with one very virulent curse that although easily exorcised, still left you with dozens of little slits and slashes across your body. Those little, bleeding creases in your skin were the reason for Choso immediately stopping whatever he was just doing and jumping to you, wanting to help, but instead of it, he for sure made the blood loss worse. He couldn’t help himself. You, covered in fresh crimson did something to him, and just like he was perfectly able to control and manipulate blood in and out of his body, now he couldn’t stop it from flowing down, straight to his cock. He wanted, no, he needed to touch you, to taste you, to just possess you, even if for a moment and when for god knows what reason you allowed him to do whatever he liked, he just lost it.

There was not an inch of your body that he wouldn’t caress. Your red covered his hands, his mouth and clothes, even those that at this point were already on the floor. There was a sting to your wounds, every time his tongue swiped over one of them your spine was electrocuted with an impulse of painful pleasure. Those impulses flooded your brain and then filled every cell inside your body with pure ecstasy.

Choso was experimental with you, he was observing and learning, soaking in your body’s reactions to whatever he was doing. He registered every shiver of you, every louder moan of satisfaction and every whimper of discomfort. Not a single jolt went unnoticed and some of your reactions he found absolutely addicting. Like the little squirm you were doing, the unconscious line of protection your skin had whenever he would run his cold as ice fingers along your spine. His internal temperature control really got in handy in making you lost in the sensation of him.

“Cho-so~ah,“ you whined quietly as he swiftly flipped you onto your back. Once back between your trembling thighs, he was immediately pushing his way back between your velvety walls, grazing over every sweet spot in you as he slipped in. There was a ring of creamy white at the base of his girth already formed, the testimony of how fucking good he was in just brainwashing you into nothing but mess. You came already, although you couldn’t tell how many times, and he also came at least once – an evidence of that gushing out of your hole every time he drilled into it.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” He groaned lowly, leaning over you and wrapping his lips around one of the most bleeding slash you had – the one right above your collar bone. He sucked on in, savoring the sweet metallic that melted in his mouth, and it made you feel almost light-headed. He really made you feel like you’re floating and if not for the constant, harsh thrusting that grounded you, the heavy weight of his cock pumping your already oversensitive pussy in a pace that you could have sworn felt inhumane – yeah, if not for that, you might have actually lift above the bloody mess you did on the hotel couch.

“S-so good,” you mumbled absentmindedly and gasped loud as his ice cold, wet tongue flicked over your hardened nipple. It felt like he just put an ice cube over the bud and he played with it, twirling and twisting it all over your skin, making you shiver harshly underneath him, and even more wet although that you thought wasn’t possible. The slick sounds were filling the otherwise silent room, you could feel the pouring juices covering your thighs as he was dragging his hips back and forward, back and forward, fucking your way into oblivion.

“Oh, you like that, huh?” Choso chuckled, something evil and menacing lingering underneath his labored tone. That little thing got your pussy squelching around him, your legs quivering as you felt your climax approaching – a second one, and he groaned deliciously, feeling the pressure of your walls trying to milk him. “Just a little bit more,” he almost ordered, his voice now bearing hints of desperation as he picked up the tempo.

Despite how fast he was moving, despite the force he was putting into those slams, they were all precisely hitting the right spots. Choso absorbed the pleasure that was overflowing your body, he was drinking it, basking in it. Teasing you endlessly with how cold he can make his body or how hot he can be a second later. It was a sensory hell for you, and heaven at the same time. You felt like burning – any time he’d make himself warmer, he left searing traces along your shapes and then, right after that he contrasted it with the ice cold, wet kisses and long licks, making you crumble below him.

“I can’t–,“ you tried. Everything inside you screamed to cum yet again, you couldn’t think at all at this point. It was just stars and white haze in front of your eyes, the room blended into one big splotch of nothing and only thing that mattered was the death painting inside you.

“I’m sure you can,” Kamo chuckled, allowing his long, slender fingers to wrap around your throat. With the firm, bruising squeeze he took the breathing privilege away from you and immediately, your hands landed on his veiny forearm, trying to force him to ease the hold, but he just smirked at your efforts. You looked so pretty below him, so gorgeous with your shaking legs around his hips, squeezing him from time to time, with your chest heaving and aching for air, your face stained with tears and your tits bouncing every time his hips slammed into yours. Not to mention all of the blood smeared over your delicate body. You were taking him so well, even though at first you swore he’s not gonna fit you, that he’s too big and you physically can’t take it. Now your pussy was sucking him in more and more, absolutely weeping around him, swallowing him to the very bottom. “I saw you in battle,” he applied even more pressure over your throat. “I know you can take much more than that.”

Something incoherent left your squeezed airways, a sound bearing no particular meaning and you could feel another load of hot tears threatening to roll down your cheeks, already gathering along your lash line. Your nails left red, long marks over Choso’s forearms, matching the ones that you already gave his back and shoulders before. Sharp jolts of seething pleasure were shooting through your center and spreading ecstatic hellfire over your entire body. Despite the cold touch of his fingers, you were burning alive, you could feel the flames overtaking your veins as euphoria was rushing through them.

Kamo’s grip was unforgiving, he was thriving in the way your entire form was tensing underneath his touch, he could almost hear it screaming for a break. The heavy sound of your heartbeat seemed like music to his ears, he couldn’t stop himself, not when your pussy took him with so much insatiable hunger.

He took his hand off your neck and once again, you gasped for air, filling your lungs desperately and as if the relief of being able to breathe reached down to your cunt, you could feel yourself being close again. The trembling of your thighs became more apparent and Choso groaned deeply, the sound half-airy, as he felt his dick being squeezed by your velvety walls and he had no intentions to stop it. If you wanted to milk him again, who he was to say no to it?

Putting all of his gathered knowledge to use, he reached down, pressing his thumb over your swollen clit, rubbing circles onto it and almost immediately, making you lose it. That climax somehow felt even more intense than every previous one; it overtook you in light speed, sending your mind into another dimension and if not for the absolute malfunction of your brain functions, you’d probably be worried if you’ll be able to come back from there.

“Look at me,” Choso growled and you had no idea when he leaned down onto you, trapping you between his strong arms with his face just a breath away from yours when you looked hazily into his dilated eyes. Your fingers found their way into his hair, brushing through his dark, long locks. “So beautiful,” he muttered, stealing kiss after kiss from your ajar lips.

Your back arched when he came, you could feel his dick flexing and throbbing inside of you as he was emptying his balls, spraying your velvety, oversensitive walls with his hot load, and he had a lot to give. He wasn’t even done and already he was spilling, his cum dropping down onto the couch, where a mixture of filth created a stain. There was so much mess all around you two, blood, sweat and tears, your juices and so much white Choso shot out.

He groaned into your lips, his pelvis moving slower, languidly fucking you through your highs. His mouth shifted to taste the salty residues from underneath your eyes when he finally stilled. The wet sounds that were bouncing off the walls for a while already now quieted down, making space for the melody of heavy breathes and soft, satisfied yet exhausted groans and whimpers.

“Let me get us cleaned up,” Choso murmured into your ear once his heartbeat steadied – much quicker than yours, and you gave him a nod of approval.

With a delicacy so different to how harshly he was treating you for the last, what felt like, hours, the death painting swooped you off the nasty leathery seats and carried into the bathroom. With a supporting grip over your waist, he slowly washed away all of the filth from your body and from his own as well, and you helped him as much as you could, despite your arms screaming from exhaustion. Touching him was addictive, you couldn’t pinpoint why were you so attracted to him so suddenly.

“You are so gorgeous,” he praised you softly, drying your skin gently with a towel. You felt much better without the sticky layer of dried blood and sweat covering you, all of your wounds already started to heal. When he was down, supporting himself on one of his knees and patting away the droplets of water from your thighs, you could finally take in his form. Strong, toned muscles stretching underneath the light layer of skin created a god-like statue. Choso’s figure was really to die for, with broad expanse of his shoulders and thin waist, very prominent abs and leading down to delicious thighs. All of him was impressive, it really was hard to believe he was half-curse, counting 150 years of age.

“You are gorgeous too,” you told him but he kept his gaze down suddenly shy to hear compliments and he brushed it off, with a soft shrug. It really seemed amusing now, that just few moments back he was ruthlessly pounding into you and now, he couldn’t even look you in the eyes when you praised him.

“Let’s get you to bed,” he spoke, putting away the towel and swooping you once again into his arms. In a matter of few minutes, all the lights in the house were off and you were under the sheets in your bed, your head resting over the firm surface of Choso’s chest as his heartbeat was lulling you to sleep.

Before, you thought that day sucked – the little curse caused you more troubles than it should and even if you exorcised it, it still managed to put some cuts onto you. You got back home pissed, annoyed mostly by the way you created an opening for it to even land an attack on you. You were a high grade sorcerer for years now and yet, sometimes things like this surprised you, but in perspective… nothing surprised you more that day, than Choso did. If the sky suddenly turned green and the grass became purple, it would stun you less than what the death painting hid underneath his usually calm demeanor and after that, you were curious what else he had in his store.

You will check that later. You absolutely will.

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perlukafarinn · 27 days

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This has been done a million times before and no one asked but I decided to rank the songs from Nerdy Prudes Must Die.

Let's go Nighthawks!

15. Cool As I Think I Am

I actually do love this song but when I listen to the full album, it’s one of only two songs I sometimes skip. The sound of it is very sweet, just like Pete, and it’s a great song to establish his character and his conflict in stepping outside his set social role (also props for originating the “I’m not a loser” refrain that repeats several times throughout the show to great effect). It’s just maybe not as exciting as the rest of the songs on the list.

14. Bully the Bully

Very catchy and fun, and the “cool beans” verse holds a special place in my heart (as do Grace’s little spins). Half the fun of it are the (very cute) dance moves which makes this song a little less effective when just listening to it. I love the guitar riffs and hearing all the nerds teaming up and happy for the only scene in the entire show.

13. Bury the Bully

I don’t usually prefer the shorter reprise but this song is too unhinged for me not to love it. Some highlights: Grace’s immediate acceptance of the situation and detailed knowledge in disposing of a body (and the casual “how else he gonna fit?” like she’s not suggesting something absolutely psychotic), “oh god, she’s snapping again”, Ruth coming around faster than the rest of the nerds because she’s apparently only slightly less unhinged than Grace, the discordant slamming on the piano keys after every “hack all his limbs off”.

12. Dirty Dudes Must Die

Would be much higher if only it were longer. This was the heel-face turn I was waiting for and Angela absolutely kills it, the deranged energy is off the charts. Grace singing “who will pray for you” and pointing at the audience gives me chills as does that final “run”. It feels like another story is just beginning.

11. Go Go Nighthawks!

I love all the sounds in this song - the beats that sound like lockers closing, the school band drums and trumpets, the jocks grunting and the “caw caws” from the cheerleaders. They add so much and convey such a strong sense of the setting, a must for a show that doesn’t really have any sets lmao. Also, fuck Clivesdale!

10. The Best of You

This song is just super cute and it makes me happy to listen to - Lautski own my entire heart, I can’t help it. Many have pointed out the Disney channel sound of it but it also reminds me a lot like those mid 2000s pop punk British boybands (think McFly and Busted) and I think that was deliberate with the British accent Joey and Mariah put on a couple of the lines. Anyway, I love how overwhelmingly bright and happy this song sounds, because it almost rounds back to sinister as you just know this can’t be the end of the show - we don’t get endings this happy in Hatchetfield!

9. Just For Once

This is the other song I sometimes skip but only because it’s five minutes long and such a character piece that I’m not always in the mood for it. Lauren blows me away with her ability to perform in character. That switch from Ruth’s amateur acting in the verses to the more sincere chorus is so beautiful. And that ending, oof. “I used to dance”, gets me every time.

8. Hatchet Town

I love a good mob song and this is an all time favorite for me. The Hatchetverse has been successful in establishing a multitude of interesting side characters that make the world feel lived in and that really pays off here; the song works if you don’t know most of the characters but it’s so much better if you do.

This is the first scene in the show that expands the story outside the school and the characters there, and it makes the danger feel all the more pressing, especially with how frantic and sinister it sounds. It’s also endlessly quotable; in a way, aren’t we all Dan Reynolds (with Action News, weekdays at 10 PM)?

7. Dirty Girl

Seems like I’m a much bigger fan of this song than many but I could never resist a musical theater song about sex. I love how weird and gross this song is while also containing some masterful lyrics. I love this bizarre look at sex through Grace’s warped, sheltered worldview. Most of all, I love that this is the first time we hear the line “will you pray for me” in the show and every time it appears after it’s in a wildly different context.

6. Cool As I Think I Am (Reprise)

This song makes me cry and I’m not afraid to admit it. It's the way Pete starts the song being so brave and so gentle as he convinces Steph to make an impossible choice, how they come together in the middle of it, finally completely honest with each other about their feelings, and how at the end the song slows as they’re both overwhelmed by the tragedy of the situation. “I’d have to let you go” let me go curl up and cry for a week, maybe.

5. High School Is Killing Me

A killer intro (heh). This is how you set the mood for a show! The slow start with Richie and Ruth is perfect and then the beat kicks in and I ascend to a higher level. A really strong aspect of the songs in this show are the harmonies and we get some incredible ones here - they sound so good together. This may also be the catchiest song on the soundtrack.

4. The Summoning

Oh my god this song!! First the intro with the chant, the trio’s bright voices underscored by the creepy whispers in the background, and then the descent into immediate chaos as soon as the Lords enter. I guess this is more of a “theatrical” song in that it’s not really something you listen to out of context of the musical but it works so incredibly well in context. Hearing all five of the lords together and taunting our protagonists is so insanely good. And I love how this song works musically, too, with the guitars and drums in the louder parts almost battling it out with the piano in the slower parts. Jeff Blim really popped off with this one.

3. Literal Monster

God, the foreboding atmosphere in this song is unmatched. The incredible build-up to our antagonist, managing to make a believable threat out of a cliched high school bully. Kim Whalen belting “He roars, and we cry” lives rent free in my mind. And then Will Branner shows up and lives up to every single expectation instantly.

2. Nerdy Prudes Must Die

Extremely basic opinion to think this song is great (the real unpopular take might be that it’s only number two) but what do you want me to say? That the similarities to the Halloween theme don’t make me wanna clap my hands with glee? That the music and lyrics don’t both absolutely slap? (“Will you pray for me” I will give you my entire life actually) That Jon Matteson belting “I’m not a loser” might not be the single greatest moment in the entire show? This is why they invented musical theater. I will take no further questions.

1. If I Loved You

Look I am Lautski trash, I will fully admit that, but this song is also just a bop. It’s the most fun song in the show to sing along to, by a mile. It is young, stubborn love boiled down to its most entertaining bits. It is two people almost coming together but missing each other by a hair and that hair is having too much pride to be the first to admit you’ve got a crush. This song has drama, it has fun, it has two characters vehemently denying their feelings for each other while insisting the other only deserves the best. “Don’t need a lover boy, need a lover man” marry me, Mariah Rose. How about that? Also, Joey Richter’s improvement as a singer has been severely underappreciated and this song shows his voice off perfectly.

I am ranting but that’s because I cannot coherently express how much I love this song. In a soundtrack filled with nothing but hits, this one hits me right in the heart.

#nerdy prudes must die #npmd #starkid #found this in my google docs #i wrote it like two months ago and i don't remember why i didn't post it then #i'm not 100% sure i still fuck with this ranking but it's close enough that i don't feel like changing it

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lackyghost · 9 months

Text

Bakugou Katsuki grumbles as he walks, his shitty, coffee soaked shirt in hand. His pale blonde hair is wild, speckled with more of the brown bean juice. His black tank top is basically sealed against his front, leaving the outline of the usually concealed inner binding layer obviously visible.

He’s following after a guy he would very reluctantly consider a friend. The guy is silent as he goes, his own left shoulder soaked in coffee, some splashes in the white portion of his bicolored hair, split straight down the middle, red on the clean side.

Todoroki Shouto looks back at Katsuki, his mismatched turquoise and gray eyes locking with Katsuki’s scarlet ones, which are burning with indignance.

“It’s just up this path,” Shouto says.

“Whatever,” Katsuki grouses, his voice deep and laced with a growl.

The blonde wishes he could say he’s surprised when Shouto turns up the path to a massive, traditional style home, but he’s not. He knows the guy’s father is some ultra-rich CEO.

Shouto slides open the front door a little harshly and it bangs open. Before Katsuki can even step up into the genkan, a deep voice yells out “SHOUTO!” the name is drawn out, exaggerated, and Shouto sighs in annoyance.

A moment later, a slightly older man rounds the corner, a shit-eating grin on his face. He’s got the same pale skin as Shouto, and he’s a little taller, with snow white hair and bright turquoise irises.

His skin is coated in tattoos, all black, pale blue, and plum purples, snaking up his toned, shirtless torso, over both shoulders, down his strong arms to the backs of his hands. It curls up over his throat as well, ending up along the lower portion of his jaw, leading up to his face full of piercings.

Shark bite rings in his lower lip, three studs in his earlobes and rings all up his helixes, three tiny studs in his left nostril, barbells in both of his eyebrows.

“How’d I do?” The guy asks, planting his hands on his hips. “I’ve been practicing.”

"You're impossible, Touya," Shouto says, moving to the side so that Katsuki can step in beside him.

As soon as Touya’s gaze lands on Katsuki, his eyes blow wide. He clenches his jaw in an effort to not let it drop as he soaks in the man’s stunning face, gorgeous even with those pink lips twisted in a scowl.

Katsuki, on the other hand, has no qualms checking the elder man out.

"You get into a fight with a Sharpie and a stapler?" The blonde questions, voice deep and gruff, and Touya is in love.

“Todoroki Touya,” the tattooed man says, not offering his hand, just a smirk that is borderline psychotic.

“Didn’t fucking ask, Patchwork,” Katsuki grouses.

Touya’s grin widens and he eyes the stained boys before him. “Did a coffee machine explode?”

“Some bastard ordered the wrong fucking thing and decided it was my fucking fault,” Katsuki snarls angrily as he kicks his shoes off.

“So, Shouto was being kind and offered to help you out, so sweet,” Touya coos.

“No, he is the one who made the fucking drink,” Katsuki says, glaring at the bicolored man.

“I also got wet,” Shouto says, gesturing to his sleeve.

“I will fucking kill you,” Katsuki growls.

Touya snickers. “You can try, but us Todorokis are hard to kill.”

“I’m determined,” Katsuki says flatly.

“Stop flirting,” Shouto says tiredly.

Katsuki’s eyes go wide and his upper cheeks flush pink. “I—I am not fucking flirting!”

“I am,” Touya says cheerfully. “Come on, Doll, I think my clothes would fit you better than my scrawny little brother’s.”

“Fuck off,” Shouto says, annoyed.

Katsuki, however, throws his soaked shirt in Shouto’s face and looks to Touya as he steps into a pair of guest slippers. “Well? Fucking hurry up.”

Touya smirks, pleased, and spins on his heel to lead the way to his bedroom. Katsuki flips Shouto off as he follows, the bicolored boy returns the gesture.

Katsuki eyes the Todoroki house as they go, taking in the traditional styles all throughout the place, rice paper in the sliding doors, tatami mats, and classical ink artwork of samurai.

Touya’s room is one of the larger, as he’s the eldest sibling and had claimed dibs on it a long time ago. While he does have his own little studio apartment closer to the city, he’s always maintained his room here for convenience.

“This looks about your size,” Touya says, tossing a shirt to Katsuki.

The blonde grunts and looks around. “Bathroom?”

Touya gives him a curious look, but points to a door attached to his room. Katsuki nods and heads in there, shutting the door behind himself.

He peels his tank top up and unclasps the binder portion, immediately taking in a deep breath as his lungs are able to fully expand. He peels the drenched fabric off, his small breasts coming free.

He avoids looking at them in the mirror; even small as they are, they’re breasts and he hates them.

There’s a sheen of coffee on his skin though, and he looks around for a washcloth, finding one in the little closet and quickly wetting it so he can wipe himself down.

“Oh, I found this!” Touya’s voice shouts moments before the door is shoved open.

Katsuki’s arms fly up to cross over his chest as indignance and shame flush his cheeks a vibrant red. “Do you know how to fucking knock!?”

“Oh, sorry,” Touya says, holding out the white fabric in his hands. “I know it’s not the same thing, but it’s a compression tank. Figured it might help.”

Katsuki’s whole body freezes and he blinks at the man, who just holds the item out, a small smile on his lips. The blonde slowly reaches out with one hand to take the tank top, feeling his chest tightening up in a new way.

“Thanks,” he says, voice rougher than usual.

“Lemme know if you want a hoodie or whatever on top of that,” Touya says, and then leaves the bathroom, shutting the door behind himself.

Katsuki pulls the tank on, it definitely isn’t that great as it’s a mild compression, but it’s miles better than nothing at all. He pulls the t-shirt on over top of it, snorting out a soft laugh when he looks in the mirror and sees the bold ‘FUCK OFF’ in English along the front.

“So edgy,” he muses, and then gathers up his tank top and the washcloth and steps out of the room.

Touya looks up from where he was lazily lounging on his bed and gives the blonde a lopsided grin. “Looks good on you, Doll.”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” the blonde says, nose scrunching up. “Name’s Bakugou Katsuki.”

“Sure thing, Doll,” Touya says cheerfully, sitting up and pocketing his phone while the blonde glowers at him.

“You’re an asshole,” Katsuki says dryly.

“Yes,” Touya agrees easily.

“You seriously need to learn personal space,” Katsuki adds.

“Probably,” Touya says, shrugging. “Does that binder need hand washing, or will it work on a gentle cycle?”

Katsuki furrows his brows. “Hand only. I’ll wash it at home.”

“We’ve got a tub in the laundry room,” Touya says, cocking a brow.

Katsuki grimaces slightly. “I don’t… not a lot of people know.”

“Oh,” Touya says, blinking.

“I don’t know how the fuck you know, but you need to keep your fucking mouth shut,” Katsuki says, scowling heavily. “I’m fucking serious, Patchwork.”

“I just noticed your binder,” Touya says, shrugging. “I’ve got a couple of trans friends. I guess I just notice that shit.”

Katsuki calms a little at that, but he still hates the simmering shame inside of him, knowing that someone found out the secret he’s tried hard to hide over the years.

“Just show me where the fucking laundry room is,” he grumbles.

“Sure thing, Doll,” Touya chirps.

“I told you not to call me that,” the blonde snaps.

“Whatever you say, Katsuki,” Touya says and the younger nearly trips over his own feet as his face flushes a bright red.

“Wh-what the fuck!?” He says, voice pitched up in embarrassment.

Touya just hums, amused, and continues leading the way to the laundry room. Katsuki growls under his breath, but follows after the man who is somehow an absolute asshole and weirdly considerate. He’s a walking, talking, smirking oxymoron.

The laundry room is fully tiled, the machines modern and sleek, with a large washing basin to one side, a washboard hung next to it, and a series of clothes lines beneath little dryer fans in the ceiling.

“What the fuck,” Katsuki mutters and Touya snorts.

“Right? Wish I had this shit in my apartment,” he says as he opens a cupboard above a long counter and pulls out a box of washing soap for sensitive skin. “Need any help?”

“Fuck off,” Katsuki says, swiping the box from him and crossing the room to go to the sink.

Touya gives a considering hum. “Okay.”

Katsuki ignores him as he turns the water on, making sure it’s cold, but not too cold, and then adding in a little of the washing powder.

He scrubs the top carefully between his hands, rolling it until the water is a faded brown color. He drains the basin and refills it, repeating the process a second time before rinsing it thoroughly and then draining the sink.

He turns to hang the binder up and nearly drops it when he sees Touya there, leaning against the counter by the washer and dryer.

“What the fuck?” He blurts out.

Touya just looks up from where he’d been scrolling through social media on his phone. “I made hot chocolate.”

He points to the two steaming mugs on the counter beside him and Katsuki’s eye twitches. He scowls as he moves to hang his tank top up, trying to clip it up so it looks like a normal tank top. He flips the switch on the wall for the fans and is surprised at how silent they are.

Touya shoves his phone in his pocket and grabs the mugs, moving over to Katsuki’s side and tapping his elbow against the blonde’s, gathering his attention.

““Wanna go sit down and watch a shit movie?” Touya asks, and then takes a sip of his cocoa, holding the other out to the blonde.

“Why would I want to watch a shitty movie?” Katsuki questions, bewildered, as he takes the offered mug.

“So that you can make fun of it, obviously,” Touya says.

Katsuki blinks slowly. “Okay.”

“Good choice, Katsuki,” Touya says, and the blonde blushes again, but bites his tongue against another retort as he follows the guy out to the living room.

Touya flops down on the couch and pats the space right next to him, so Katsuki sits on the opposite end, as far from the tattooed man as possible. Touya pouts, but grabs the remote and turns on some horrible movie about zombie beavers.

When the first horribly made puppet zombie beaver pops up on screen Katsuki snorts, and when it leaps at a person and bites into their throat, the blonde throws his head back and laughs.

Touya smirks, eyes crinkling as he soaks up the sound, using the blonde’s distraction to inch closer and closer to the shorter man.

Katsuki isn’t an idiot though, and he notices the tattooed man ebbing closer. His heart thuds with each scoot over, and he finds himself biting back grins at how satisfied the man looks, thinking he’s getting away with it.

When Touya is just close enough, Katsuki swats him upside the head. “You ain’t sly, Patches.”

Touya laughs and grins at the blonde. “So, you like me getting close, eh?”

“Sh-shut up, I didn’t fucking say that,” Katsuki says, scrunching his nose up.

Touya hums thoughtfully. “See, now, I think you’re the type of person who would’ve shoved me to the floor if you didn’t want me this close.”

The tattooed man drops all pretenses at being a shitty ninja and turns fully to face the blonde, leaning in closer, eyes lidding. “I think you find me as interesting as I find you.”

Katsuki swallows thickly. “So what if I do?”

“Date me,” Touya says.

Katsuki’s eyebrows raise. “Date you?”

“Yeah,” Touya says, nodding, a grin tugging his lips up. Katsuki pretends that he needs any amount of time at all to consider that. “Fine.”

#my hero academia #ao3 link #dabibaku #dbbk #bakudabi #dabi x bakugou katsuki #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #my hero fanfic #fluff #meet cute

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lacrimosathedark · 2 years

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Hey Bat fandom, can we like, stop pushing for BatJokes in mainline comics?

EDIT: DISCLAIMER FOR CLARITY: I am not attempting to criticize people who ship these characters. It is strictly a critique of the concept of a reciprocal romantic relationship between these two characters being canonized and people wanting that specifically. I am not shaming anyone for enjoying or entertaining the idea of this pairing.

Look, I’m far from the last person to say there’s nothing there; I literally have a whole word document dedicated to evidence for the argument that Joker is in love with Batman (which I made out of spite because I mentioned it in passing and my cousin thought I was crazy heck you man I’m right).

And honestly, I love Elseworlds where it could be moderately plausible. The Telltale games, for example, put a truly fascinating spin on their dynamic that makes reciprocation believable, even likely. White Knight does this pretty well too. And Lego Batman makes it fucking adorable.

But here’s the thing, those are Elseworlds. All of them, Joker shows his inherently redeeming qualities. In Telltale he’s basically led astray and you can, in essence save him from becoming a psychotic mass murderer we know the Joker as. In White Knight, he is extremely mentally ill, but is temporarily “cured”, and while still a manipulative bastard, shows a great deal of love and compassion and determination to make things right. These set up Joker to be much more morally gray than he is in most media. Lego Batman is accurate but also cutesy and sanitized, so Joker is very much a precious little bean instead of...y’know...an insane murder clown.

If the Arkham games have one strong point, it’s nailing this relationship. Joker is absolutely in love with and attracted to Batman. And while Bruce is obsessed with Joker to extreme and unhealthy degrees, he feels no affection for him whatsoever. He doesn’t like the Joker.

Which is my point. Joker, while not entirely lacking redeeming qualities, is inherently irredeemable. He’s the definition of a psychotic mass murderer. And everything he’s done to Bruce specifically cannot be ignored.

The biggest things that come to mind are The Killing Joke, A Death in the Family (as well as the N52 shitshow that was Death OF the Family), his BatCat Wedding bullshit, and Joker War. But that’s not even half of the things he’s done to cause him grief.

And look, I’m not saying Bruce doesn’t have a kind of intimate connection with Joker. He most certainly does. But intimate is not inherently loving. Remember, he basically accidentally created Joker when the man tripped or jumped into that vat of acid trying to escape Batman. And Bruce has an extremely severe guilt complex. So Joker is, and always will be, Batman’s responsibility.

Because I cannot see this man loving the guy who paralyzed his almost-daughter, tortured one of his best friends, brutally murdered his son, mind-controlled his eldest son, attacked his entire family, nearly killed his fiancee, and stole pretty much everything from under him while terrorizing his city.

Give them a different history, sure. Find a way to redeem the Joker, even better. I’m a fan of Elseworlds where they can have mutual romantic chemistry.

But it just doesn’t work within main comics. They don’t express mutual interest. And Joker has repeatedly expressed “love” with abuse. It has no potential to be healthy with the canon we currently have.

#BatJokes #sort of #Batman #Bruce Wayne #Joker #not really anti but not not anti #I like BatJokes in a very specific set of circumstances and there only #Anti-BatJokes #also sort of #but in case people want to avoid this I'm adding it

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fishedeyelenz · 8 months

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Pssst hey, tell me about your take on the old man 👀 ya know who I mean

Also!! I would really like to know about Camille and how she came to meet Billy/how she realized she had feelings for him and vice versa😄

Omg... hello. First of all, love the work that you did for the old man community yk yk but you were truly The First. Thank you so much for inspiring me ough <3333 fair warning this is gonna be LOOOOOONG

About my old crusty man.... Well the lore is a bit complicated now cause I kinda developed two stories for him with the same characters more or less, but with different circumstances. Both of these stories are being written and made into fanfiction that you can read on ao3!!

So give me coffee and tv- the og plotline, first written as a yn x DILF!Billy fic, however after I had written the third chapter I realized I was basically writing for an OC at that point, so I developed Camille as a character and slightly revamped the fic, as well finished the fourth chapter with her as the protagonist. (the og second person perspective version of the fic can also be read here ).

In summary, Camille Morrison is a recently divorced middle aged artist who moves to the outskirts of a new town next to a forest, with her only neighbor being the Moaner himself. He has been more or less rehabilitated, but that doesn't mean he stopped with the phone calls. He uses them to "cope". And of course he just had to call Camille to try and drive her away, cause he still can't stand having people too close to him (they live 15 minutes away from each other </3). But Camille confronts him, and a sort of mutual respect begins to form, then a quiet friendship, but because of their combined loneliness it quickly develops into something more for the both of them. In the hiatus I had while revamping and writting the fourth chapter of So give me coffee and tv I also was talking to my mutuals a lot and questions about how DILF! Billy would act if he were an Actual DILF came up a lot. What I mean by that is, what would have happened if he had a child of his own. And so I started exploring the logical conclusions of the premise, and started thinking about what would have happened if Camille and Billy met when they were younger and somehow by chance had a child. And that child became Bean!!! I love her so much she's a little silly <333 (huge thanks for the development of this this story goes out to @lycanthropiclykoi, beloved mutual)

Rats in the shadows - The baby au of So give me coffee and tv basically. au of an au </3. Story told non-chronologically, it follows the life of and relationship of Billy and Camille and their daughter Bean. A more experimental work, in it Billy and Camille met while Camille was living in the sorority (in sgmcatv she didn't live even close to the same town during college, though in both timelines she is a painting major), After some growing pains (he wanted to kill her when they first met </3) the two of them come to terms with each other and eventually fall in love and move in together. However at one point Camille becomes pregnant, and Billy leaves her, as he fears that he will either hurt her or the baby. Pretty angsty but occasionally fluffy, especially when Bean starts to grow up into something more than a baby. Agnes is there. Brahms Heelshire is there. I am currently focusing on this fic, while sgmcatv is on hiatus atm.

As for the characterization of my old man, it is slightly different between timelines, though rits hasn't touched on him as a middle aged man just yet. So I'll focus on the sgmcatv version. Set twenty years after the movie, Billy spent a good few years after the murders in a psych ward, getting slowly rehabilitated until he made his way into a halfway house, then was deemed fit to live on his own. He is still obligated to attend therapy though, and is kept on a nice cocktail of mood stabilizers, anti psychotics and back pain medication. Works as a projectionist at a local cinema in the town he lives in. Spend a lot of time traveling with by bus or waiting for the bus, given that he lives in a very small cabin in the woods and can't drive a car. Blind as a bat, and dresses like a nerd most of the time. Has adopted six cats, which you can learn more about here. Loves them all to bits and definitely doesn't play favorites, no way! Thrift stores are his favorite place on earth, though going there doesn't help his slight hoarder tendencies. Doesn't like people that much still, but puts up with them most of the time. Very lonely, and likes to call people still partially to get let his built frustrations out onto them, partially to hear the voice of another person. Hes just a creepy middle aged man.

His and Camille's relationship definitely changes depending on the timeline. In short, in sgmcatv their relationship definitely began with a rocky start given that he started harassing her quickly after he saw her walking close to his house, however when she told him to quit it and fuck off to his face he started developing a respect for her. It also helped that after that encounter Camille treated him with respect and kindness. Kindness in general, as well as empathy are some of the defining characteristics of Camille's personality, and without that, they wouldn't be able to get along no matter the timeline. And they started hanging out, being neighborly, finding similar interests. Both of them are very lonely at this point of their lives of course, and it isn't hard for them to start developing feelings and getting horny for each other. Camille has realized by this point of the story I think that she has feelings for him, but she is waiting for the friendship to develop more and is trying to see if Lenz would be a good fit for her, especially since the scars of her divorce haven't cooled off yet. She has enough experience now that she knows rushing into things isn't good usually, though a part of her is pretty confident in knowing what she wants, and Billy does fit her type in a way. Only time will tell how the relationship will develop further ( I haven't written anything else yet </3) In rits it is so balls to the walls chaotic. Sgmcatv has a more stable and healthy ground for the relationship to develop from given that Billy has already seeked help and is honestly doing better than ever, while in rits Camille meets him in the middle of the worst period of his life and also unfortunately, he has a crush on her </3 She needs to beat him up and knock him out with a broom when they first meet. At least he doesn't kill any of the girls in the sorority... The early stages of their relationship aren't expanded up on that much just yet, though I can assure you it involves lots of weed to sedate him </3/j but it all gets sorted out relatively okay for the both of them. By spring I think they will be friends, and Billy starts respecting her more. How she develops and realizes these feelings is still a bit spoilery as I haven't touched on it yet in the fic, but they really do fall in love hard. And when he left it hurt the both of them. He just... didn't trust himself enough to be a father. He starts more seriously going to therapy during this time period, and Camille knows he never truly left. He still visit her at night when she sleeps, and after Bean is born he visits her as well. That's where we are basically for now...

As for Bean she is well... a little bean. Just a little guy. Likes tardigrades and microscopic animals. Loves her mama and that strange shadowy figure that watches over her during the night. Sometimes she is so much like her father it makes her mothers heart hurt. She's just vibing... for now at least... That's it in summary, of course theres more information in the fanfics, and a lot of things will be expanded upon in both aus. Hehehe thank you so much for asking about Billy, and Camille and everything else though. I really love talking about these two stories I have, at any chance I get really!!! I hope you have a good day!!!

#asks #dilf billy lenz #billy lenz #oc: camille #oc: bean #oc x canon #black christmas oc #my writting #this is nice I finally managed to summarize all this jhfvhvvbjvbd

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madcatdaderpydrawer-blog · 1 year

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Oh the poor baby is crying now goddammit why must this little mildly psychotic bean make me feel so bad for him

Also I do not believe for a second that the crying was fake, I feel like this lunar just didn’t want to open up to sun knowing he was just going to leave him alone again. Which is why he so quickly went to trying to scare him away physically with the threat of violence

#sams spoilers

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unforth · 1 year

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Peach Flower House has announced that they're re-releasing (a corrected version of) In the Dark by Jin Shisi Chai, translated by Beans!

“There will always be a pair of eyes watching you when you are unaware, in the dark.”

Even if trapped in darkness, one will always search for the light.

This is a story of a young police officer searching for the answer to “Who am I?”

Xie Lanshan was an undercover drug enforcement officer who made his way inside the Golden Triangle’s most feared armed organization as the right-hand man of drug lord Mu Kun. After successfully returning to his post from the operation, an accidental case of police misconduct triggered a series of unexplainable headaches and hidden memories that began haunting him.

While investigating the truth behind his father’s death many years ago, Xie Lanshan utilizes his unique and sharp thinking from the perspective of a psychotic murderer to solve difficult cases around him. Plagued by this growing change and instability of both his mental health and personality, he will later meet a mysterious forensic sketch artist named Shen Liufei. Together, the two men will maintain a strange relationship; as friends and enemies, they solve mysterious cases one by one.

But, perhaps, there was another motive for the forensic artist to approach the young officer...

Vol. 1

Vol. 2

Vol. 3

I'm definitely curious, and I want to continue to support Peach Flower House as the offer basically the sole alternative to Seven Seas for print English danmei releases, but I need to know a little more first. Has anyone read these and can give me spoilers? Especially, can anyone tell me if there's a happy ending for the main ship? I can handle most other dark stuff (which I assume there will be a lot of in a title literally called In The Dark) but I can only slog through if I know I get the payoff of a HEA...

#in the dark #new danmei #peach flower house #unforth rambles #idk how to tag this

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teencopandthesourwolf · 6 months

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READ IT HERE ON AO3

excerpt:

“Here!”

Stiles slams something down on the coffee table to the left of Derek's (Stiles's) laptop.

Derek is searching online, only a little psychotically, in the hope of finding a store that sells these very specific organic coffee beans he tried in a hipster coffee house recently. Derek isn't a hipster—he isn't—he just likes nice coffee, is all. Really, he should have asked the barista to find out not just the brand name but their supplier's address too, because this is driving him insane. Maybe he is insane? More likely just incredibly shit at the internet but he thinks he'd prefer to plead insanity if challenged.

Derek unknits his eyebrows and looks down at… a green thing. It's sort of feather shaped and has many spindles with bronzed edges.

It's a leaf.

His eyebrows knit themselves back together as he blinks down at the thing a couple of times.

“It's a leaf,” he says, because he doesn't know what else he's supposed to say.

“Hey, what's—”

“Yes, Derek, it's a leaf. It is a leaf that I brought all the way home. For you. From the cemetery.”

He's still pacing.

“Okay, well do you want to tell me—“

“It's an Apology Leaf. Obviously.”

Obviously.

YOU CAN READ THE REST HERE ON AO3

#sterek #sterek fic #sterek fanfic #sterek fanfiction #POV derek hale #derek hale #stiles stilinski #sterek fic rec #teen wolf #teen wolf fic #queer fic #m/m #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #tcats writes #teencopandthesourwolf

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romanarose · 2 years

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Sunshine, Starlight, Sweetheart, Brightside: Chapter 21

Steven Grant X OC X Marc Spector

Story Masterlist.

Fic Summary: Steven meets Sam and they strike up a quick relationship, both kindhearted and loving, they fall fast. But both have a lot going on. Steven had Marc and Moon Knight, and Sam has mental health problems of her own. Slowly, Steven starts to put together pieces of her story as Sam starts to get to know Marc and Jake.

Chapter summary: Oh boy. Have fun with this one. Dave stirs the pot one final time and Sam and Steven have their first fight.

WARNINGS!: Mentions of drinking and problem drinking, mentions of a bad eating disorder, mentions of sexual assault.

Italics is Marc, red is Jake, bold is steven

*********************************

It was almost beginning to seem like the rest of the trip would go over smoothly.

Almost.

Mary wouldn’t hardly leave Steven’s side, insisting she sit by him everywhere. After Steven came back to the body, Sam asked if he was comfortable with her doing that to Marc, since it was his body too. Steven said he didn’t mind at all. Sam thought it seemed he liked watching. After a few hours in the basement with Teresa, their dad calmed down and everyone bean to gather in the living room as the sun set.

That’s when it all went wrong.

It started with one little comment when Sam cracked open a wine cooler.

Her dad just had to say something “How do you have a drinking problem when you supposedly have an eating disorder?”

“JESUS CHRIST DAD!” Chris slammed his hand on the floor, making Sam, Teresa and Simon jump. “What the FUCK?”

Steven was startled, but was confused. He knew Sam could be concerned about sugar and calories, but he didn’t think she had an eating order. She ate. Was she throwing it up?

Dave noticed Steven’s reaction. “Can’t be much of an eating disorder if he hasn’t noticed.”

“Dad!” Chris raises his voice as Ben coaxes him to stand up. “They’ve been dating for three months, just let them be!”

“Chris, let it go, you’re not helping.” Ben started to pull him out of the room.

“You have been picking on them all weekend, just let them be happy!”

Ben took him away and Chris continued shouting.

Jesus, both of them are going to need therapy. Steven, did you know she has an eating disorder? No, just her hang ups with calories… he thinks she has a drinking problem too. I’m telling you Steven, she doesn’t have a drinking problem. You don’t know what a drinking problem looks like, I do. Marc, she’s been drunk for 24 hours straight. Why do you even care? Sam watched the conversation in his eyes, pupils darting around for a moment. When they landed back on her, she could see he looked confused and hurt. “Sunshine, it was in high school. I’m fine now. It wasn’t a big deal.”

This time, Jo chimed in. “Honey, you were throwing up blood.”

Marc and Jake continued bickering. You think just because I don’t want to fuck her, it means I don’t care about her? If you think you don’t want to fuck her, you’re fucking crazy. Unlike you, I can appriciate someone for more than sex. Knock it the fuck off before I start taking anti-psychotics and make you shut up. I’m not a hallucination, Marc, that’s not going to do anything GUYS, focus!

Sam heard Teresa smack her head and mutter. “Jesus mom…”

Steven couldn’t tear his eyes off Sam, why wouldn’t she talk to him about this? Throwing up blood? “Sam-”

She stood up abruptly. “I need a smoke.”

Jo “You just smoked.”

“UUUUGGHHH” Sam growled, grabbing her cigarettes and lighter as Steven scrambled after her.

When Sam heard the door open, despite her back being turned, she knew who it was. “I don’t wanna hear it.” she spoke through the cig in her mouth, attempting to light it.

“Love, can we talk about this?” He wanted to touch her shoulder, but knew how she was with back touches.

She whipped around to face him, taking a long draw of her cig. “I was bulimic in high school, Steven. It was high school, it’s fine, it’s over.”

“But… you still count calories and worry about your weight?”

She was smoking quickly, “That’s just how I exist Steven!” She held her cigarette in her mouth and threw up her hands, mumbling through one side of her mouth as her left hand waved around “That is forever going to be a part of me!”

He paused, how can she not see that’s concerning? He tried to talk as calmly as he could. “If it’s always a part of you, don’t you think I should know about that?

“Your mom said you threw up blood, Sam. That’s really bad…”

Sam rolled her eyes. “I know it’s bad Steven.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm that she had never used on him as she rolled her eyes. Were they in a fight? “I don’t need you babysitting me! Don’t start watching what I eat and do not start watching what I drink. I know Jake thinks I have a problem, but it’s none of your business.” She finished the cigarette and lit another, pacing around the porch deck.

Steven leaned in, eyes wild and bewildered. “Sam, we’re dating.”

“We have been together,” she started suspiciously calm. “For THREE MONTHS!” Ah, there was the shouting.

“CHRIST SAM!” Steven, dial it back a notch “We said I love you after three weeks, don’t you think you should have told me about this by now?”

“It was High School!!” She threw her cigarette on the ground, storming to the other end of the deck, pulling at her hair. Sam stood at the end, facing away from him.

Steven pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to remain calm. Marc took the body. “You said that about the cutting, and yet you have scabs on your ankles right now.”

Steven took the body back in time to see Sam roll her eyes. “Not you too.”

“Jesus, Sam, it’s like everytime I find out something horrible that happened to you, I think ‘That's it! No one person can possibly take any more, but I’m always wrong!” It wasn’t lost that this was almost exactly the same thing Layla said to Marc.

She turned back to face Steven. “Marc, stay out of this, I can only fight with one person at a time.” Marc, it's okay, I got this. “And so what? Is an eating disorder suddenly too much for you? You gonna dump me because I have one mental problem too many?”

“Sam…” Steven calmed down. “I’m not breaking up with you…”

“You should!” Sam threw her hands up, giving up. “You’ve seen my family, you’ve seen what I come from, alcoholics, abusers, and broken people”

“And you think I haven’t?”

“No, you haven't. Marc did.”

Oi, don’t drag me into this. You literally brought yourself into this

Steven shook his head, he wasn’t going to deal with the semantics of this right now. “Your family isn’t the problem, the problem is that you hide everything! Everything I learn has to be pried out of you!”

Her face contorted as if she couldn’t understand what he wasn’t getting. “That’s because there is a lot! Did you want me to show up on our first date and say “Oh! Hi steven! Here's a list of all the traumatic things that happened to me this decade! We can cover the previous 15 years on date 2!”

“God!” Steven ran his fingers through his hair, frustrated, walking in a small, short circle “You tried to have sex with me before you told me about the assualt, Sam. What if something happened? Don’t you think I should’ve known about that ahead of time?”

“Why?” she glared at him, challenging. “So you can decided wether I was worthy of being fucked, or if I was too used?”

He pointed at her, defensively. “That is not what I said!”

Sam crossed her arms “But that’s what this is about, isn’t it?! You’re mad because you didn’t realize what you were getting into, and now you wasted 3 months of your life and you are just now figuring out I’M TOO BROKEN FOR YOU!”

Steven was shouting, not quite at Sam’s level but he definitely wasn’t proud of it. “Stop putting words in my mouth!” He threw his hands up as he yelled.

Sam closed her eyes and turned away, wincing.

There was a long, long pause. Sam slowly turned to face him, looking nervous.

“Sam, I’m sorry-”

But Sam’s face set into a glare before she turned on her heel, going down the deck stairs, but she was shaking.

“Sam, please, wait.” He starts after her, but the door opens. Teresa steps out.

“Give her some time. She needs time.”

Steven shrugged off her coat and gave it to Teresa, who wasn’t wearing one. “How much did you hear?”

Teresa watched as Sam walked off, down the street. “Too much. I didn’t know she was… I always suspected, but I didn’t… She always kept me safe from dad, I wish I could’ve done the same for her.”

Steven crossed his arms, trying to stay warm. “It’s getting cold, I should get her”

“Just give her time. She’ll come back. Come on. Let’s go” Teresa ushered Steven inside. He took one last look at Sam furiously walking away from him.

Half an hour later, the siblings and Steven were watching Tv in tense silence in the basement.

You didn’t mean to, Steven. Come on, stop kicking yourself. You know damn well you’d be doing the same thing right now You both got a little out of hand, it’ll be fine We never had a fight before fighting is normal Yeah, with me, not with Steven you are not good at this, Marc Jake, we didn’t know you existed until, like, two months ago, why do you think you are sudden a part of this system? Will you two please the fuck shut up? Don’t get mad at me, I’m not the one that scared her fuck off, you seem to be forgetting about the punching the mirror. That was your fault, pEnDejo. You got a lot of fucking nerve mocking the way I talk, Chicago boy, why dont you go eat a haht dahg and watch da Bears Remember what I said about the anti psychotics? I’M NOT A FUCKING HALLUCINATION!

“Fuck.” Steven muttered to himself, sick of the bickering. Looking around, he realized he said that out loud, and the kids were staring at him. “Sorry guys. Just a little worried is all.” Mena offered him a sympathetic smile, and everyone went back to Spongebob.

Dom came down the stairs. “Hey guys, did Sam come back yet? It’s snowing.”

“Oh shit” Steven stood up, Chris and Teresa followed, hurrying up the stairs.

“I’ll take my car and go look north of 5th street, you guys take south.” Teresa called, pulling on her coat and heading outside.

“Come on, get in my car, we’ll find her.” Chris insisted.

“No way mate, you’re drunk.”

“Fine, you drive. I’ll show you her usual spots.” Chris tossed Steven the keys as they walked to the car.

“Usual spots?” Steven asked as he turned the keys in the engine.

“Yeah, this isn’t the first time she stormed off.” There was a pause before Chris asked. “This your first fight?”

“Yeah.” Technically, there was the mirror incident, scarf-gate, the day after Jake met Sam, and the fight earlier that day… “There’s been fights… around us, I guess. But this is the first between us.”

This was true. Those fights had never been Sam mad at him, but Marc or Jake. Now she was mad at him. He didn’t even really understand what went wrong. Why couldn’t she just be open with him? Nothing would ever be too much, not if she could talk to him, or Marc, or even Jake. These last few months had been difficult between Sam and his own issues, but they had also been some of the best of his life. As Chris directed him around town, all he could do was worry. Fuck, where was she? Why didn’t she come home when it started snowing? Chris kept trying her phone, nothing.

“Okay, I got one more.” Chris slurred his words, tired. “Otherwise, we’re gonna have to get help.” Chris directed him to a park. “Check the gazebo”

Steven got out of the car, quickly jogging to the gazebo. There she is Jake sounded relieved; Marc noted. Is she sleeping? Steven ran over to her, she wasn’t asleep, just laying down on the bench. “Chris tell you where I was?” She sounded out of it. Her lips were bordering on blue, she was shaking.

Steven took off his coating, wrapping it around her leather jacket. “He’s in the car, he was really worried, we all were…”

Sam simply stared off into the snow.

“Sweetheart, why are you lying here? It’s snowing, it’s cold…”

“I just… I laid down and by the time it started… I was too tired to move. I’m just… I’m so tired Steven” she was whispering. Steven worried the cold had taken a toll.

Marc took over, kneeling down by her. “Hey honey, Steven and I are very sorry about the fight, can we take you to the car? Please?”

Sam nodded very slightly but couldn’t move. Marc scooped her up, wrapped her in his coat, and carried her to the car. When Chris saw Marc/Steven carrying his sister, he sobered up, dashing out of the car and to the couple “Jesus, what happened?”

Steven was back. “She was tired.” Steven glanced at Chris, sharing a look.

Chris opened the passenger door for Steven to put Sam in, and got in the back. The drive back was quiet, save for the christmas music quietly on the radio. This is bad. Does she have hypothermia? She wasnt out long enough, and she had her coat. But I don’t think the cold is helping. She said this happens, where she… can’t get up and spaces out… This is going to be really bad. Don’t… don’t say that Marc. Don’t what? I’m being honest.

“You okay if we leave tonight, Steven? Sam?” Chris asked. “I’ll tell mom a work thing came up. She nevers asks questions.”

“Yeah mate.” Steven agreed “I think that’s best.” Sam didn’t respond, she simply laid her head on the window, looking away, a dead expression on her face.

When they arrived, Chris went inside to start packing. Steven walked around to where Sam was and leaned into the car, unsure if he should touch her or not. “Do you want to stay in here? I can pack up our things.”

Finally, she spoke, barely audible. “No” Sam cleared her throat and gave a little more volume. “I want to say goodbye to the kids.”

“Of course, darling” He held out a hand, helping her out of the car and inside. Teresa rushed to her, embracing her in a hug “Oh thank god, Sam. I was so fucking worried, god damn…”

Steven saw Sam straighten up, it seemed like she was… putting on a costume. Preparing for a scene.

Steven went to pack, as he walked upstairs he heard Jo speak “Hey! How was your walk, dear?”

“Good mom!”

Anyone else might not have noticed. Jo certainly didn’t. Jo seemed blissfully unaware of the torment her children were under. But Steven heard it in her voice. It was fake, it was dry, it was dead. It wasn’t Sam. Something was missing.

The kids all said goodbye to Sam, Chris and Steven. Dave was busy watching TV, he shouted bye from the living room.

“Be safe” Teresa whispered to Sam.

“Yeah, you too T.”

Steven drove, still not trusting Chris. Even though Steven offered Chris his couch, Chris booked a hotel in London along the way. Benefits of making good money. Sam didn’t speak the whole ride, she was gone. There was nothing in her eyes. She pulled out her smokes, lighting on and rolling down the window. After a few puffs, Steven noticed her simply staring at the cigarette as it faded out. Sam continued staring for a minute, before tossing it out the window, quickly followed by the almost full box of cigarettes. She was quitting. Steven dropped Chris off, Chris said he'd get the car in the morning, and Steven took Sam home. She got ready for bed in silence, barely brushing her teeth and only wiping her face with a makeup wipe and changing in the bathroom.

Steven was waiting for Sam, standing by the bed and looking nervous; he was doing that thing where he fidgeted with his hands. “Hey love, how are you feeling”

He watched Sam’s face for a moment. There was no expression for a moment. Then, like with her mom, something came over her. She was almost normal. Almost. She smiled, she said she was fine, said she was excited to be quitting cold turkey, and acted fine. But again, something was missing. There was no light in her eyes, no shine, no life. Dead.

“I’m sorry I worried you Steven” She climbed into bed as he joined her.

Steven wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. “It’s okay darling, we’re just happy you're safe, all of us. I’m sorry I scared you, I-”

“Can we talk about it tomorrow?”

Steven stroked her face with his hand “Okay darling, of course.”

Sam kissed him, and Steven kissed back, but when Sam deepened the kiss and reached down to his pants, he pulled back. “Darling, you’d had a long day…”

“Please, Sunshine?” She looked at him with such longing. “Please, I just want you, it’s been a long weekend and I’ve been with Marc but I miss you.”

He kissed her back, moving to her neck and his hand exploring her body “If you are sure, Sweetheart.” If she wanted to feel loved… then he would show her love.

“More than sure.” Steven moved to go down on her, but she stopped him “I’m not… I just want you.”

She’s been avoiding me eating her out lately. she let me do it earlier today but that’s it.

I’ve noticed that too…

“Darling, Marc and I noticed you haven't been keen on us going down on you… is something wrong?”

“Honey, please” she pawed at him desperately, “Can we talk about it tomorrow? Please? I promise you that I’ll talk about it” Sam climbed on top of him, grinding herself over his pelvis.

Steven ran his hands up her body, squeezing and groping along the way. How could he say no to such a pretty girl? “Of course honey, of course.” He pulled her in for a kiss, slipping his hands in her pants. Sam slid off her PJ’s and he began fingering her, but as soon as he was fully erect, she lined up with him.

Steven was going to protest, he wanted to work her more, he wanted to get her ready. He wasn’t a huge fan of quickies…. But oh god she felt good as she sunk down on him. “Fuck, darling, fuck you feel good…”

Sam leaned back over him, giving a brief kiss on the lips and then moving down to his neck where she stayed. Steven focused on the feeling of her skin, her body, her hands gripping his shoulder tightly… too tightly. He felt her back tense as she moved on him. “Sam, stop.”

She froze, hiding her face in his shoulder. Her face was wet.

“Sam?” He tried to pull her off of him, he was still inside her. “Sam, darling, what’s wrong?” Her grip on him was tight, she wouldn’t let go. He wrapped his arms around her in a deep, tight, hug. She tried to choke back a sob, but it was audible. Sam just let it out, heaving in sobs. Oh jesus, Steven, Steven fix it I’m gonna let her cry it out Steven you are literally still inside her, fix it. “My love, my sunshine, my darling…” he stroked her still-clothed back. “Please talk to me Sam, please? I love you so much… Please talk to me…”

There were a few moments of silence as Steven felt the tears wet his shoulder. Finally, he heard her choke it out, so, so quiet. “Please don’t leave me…” She broke down into sobs, holding him tight enough to leave bruises on his back and shoulders.

“Never, my love, never” Steven tried to assure her, he rubbed her back and she relaxed under his touch. “I’m with you forever, Sam. Always. Me, Marc, and Jake. We all love you, in our own ways, but we love you. Nothing could ever make me leave you…” He was able to coax her off of him, pulling up his pants. “You had quite a fright, today… Stay right here love.” Steven got a heating pad and a stuffed animal Sam slept with sometimes. He plugged the heating pad in and placed it under her.

“That feels nice, thank you.” Although she still lacked the light in her eyes, her voice was genuine.

He knelt down beside her “I’m glad, darling. Can I get you anything? Tea? Something to eat?”

She shook her head. “No, can you just sleep on me?”

“Of course, my love.” Sam asked him to do this sometimes, Sam will lay down on her stomach and Steven will lay on top of her. She called him her weighted blanket. She felt safe, and it helped the nightmares. Steven laid on top of her, holding her tightly. “Anything you need, ever. We’re here for you.” Marc appreciated that Steven always included him when assuring her they were there for her.

“I love you, Steven with a V”

“I love you, Just Sam.

******************

THANK YOU FOR READING!!! Reblogs are the best way to spread my work, and comments mean the world!!!!!

Also I love watching you guys like chapter by chapter, it's so fun seeing you go through each part. But take a breath! It's got some heavy stuff.

@ahookedheroespureheart @kr-mlk @mt2sssss @cherryvalentine1

#steven grant #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant fluff #marc spector #marc spector moon knight #moon knight fluff #moon knight smut #moon night fanfiction #moon knight #steven grant x reader #marc spector reader #moon knight fanfiction

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blochnessm0nstr · 1 year

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Way too much info about me!! (Warning, word vomit)

My stats:

Height: 5’7

Sw: 184 lbs

Cw: 156 lbs

Lw: 151 lbs

Gw: 96 lbs

I’ve been bulimic since March but last night i binged and could barely purge, scared me right back into ana. I was ana for about a year before that though.

It’s currently 8 AM and i haven’t slept, but i don’t wanna sleep through christmas eve so i’m too scared to go to sleep now, oh well I’ll pull another all nighter

Kind of? addicted to getting high on benadryl which is really stupid but yknow. Trying to stop because last time i dosed i had 35 (875mg) and barely hallucinated at all and if i dose again i’ll probably want at least a gram which scares me, don’t want seizures. Was alcoholic when i was 14 but passed out behind a closed down bush’s chicken (blood alcohol level was 0.27) and had to go to the hospital, haven’t really drank since. Been hospitalized once for benadryl as well, took 35 before my tolerance was very high (like it is now) and was speaking gibberish and my mom found me :/ went to the psych ward after that one.

Been to 3 psych wards in the span of 2 months for various reasons, was diagnosed w a lot but i don’t trust them because they diagnosed me w BPD even though i’m only 15? Off all my meds too because fuck em.

Dad recently shot up my house then killed himself so that’s fun. Happened 8? days ago i think. He had a little psychotic break. He had pretty bad bipolar disorder so honestly he wasn’t really acting out of character.

Obsessed w butterflies and ready to make it my whole personality. The color purple too.

This is mostly for my own well being because i really need somewhere to vent/blog and why not make it public?

I love piercings sm, and will be getting more hopefully in the near future. I currently have 4 lobes, both daiths, 2 helixes, 1 nostril, smiley, frowny, tongue web, and a vertical labret. I really want snake bites, medusa, other nostril, and dimples, as well as a shit ton more on my ears. Have to wait until after my dad’s funeral though, his family is very conservative and my mom doesn’t want to be judged.

I really like working out and have a bit of muscle, but i wanna be way more toned.

Still unhealthily obsessed w my ex who dumped me right after i got out of the psych ward the first time (and ditched me to drink alone, which is when i almost died) he was good to me before the end, I think he’s in jail now though, not positive. He just kinda disappeared.

Mom keeps trying to send me to a ed clinic, rehab, or RTC so if i disappear i probably didn’t die.

Came from twitter but it’s shit now so i’m here, i like it so far.

I used to self harm a lot, like a lot. Used to have a shtwt account but we don’t do that anymore, it made me feel special because i could cut to beans 😬. I won’t post any gore on here. If i ever post my body (unlikely for a long while) be warned there will be scars.

edit: I’m also depressed asf if u couldn’t tell 😭 barely hanging on by a thread. I need to clean so bad i’m considering overdosing on sudafed to give me the energy.

I live w just my mom, my brothers in college, and my dads dead (obvi) probs gonna have to move now that we only have one income.

I doubt anyone read this but that’s my whole life basically. I’m really sweet but get so scared ppl r judging me when they interact so i may not answer 😭

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zachsgamejournal · 1 year

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PLAYING: Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic

I've put nearly 30 hours into this...I think I'll just watch KOTOR 2 on YouTube...

Last we chatted, we found out the player character is actually the dark sith lord, Revan. But thanks to unethical brainwashing and my many good deeds, all the allies are like, "I know you're previously a psychotic mass murderer, but you've been pretty nice to me...so all's forgiven!' I look forward to reading or listening to some analysis of the ethics around this.

To think about it--Darth Vader is an interesting case of redemption, because he basically dies for his sins. Yes, in the end he does the right thing--but is it enough to forgive his past transgressions. Like, if you start a forest fire, and then save a family from the fire, but still thousands of people and animals die--are you a hero? If Darth Vader had survived, what life would he deserve to lead? What would he have to do to atone for his past? As a powerful Jedi, surely there is much good he could do...I don't know.

Revan is different. Revan didn't choose to be good. Revan was killed through brainwashing. I'm less concerned about who they used to be.

Anyway, so we've gone to Manaan. Despite being tired of this game and ready for it be over, I actually think this is a my favorite planet. Though it annoys the hell out of me. Manaan is a water world (apparently Earth was too at one point). It has a natural resource that's good for healing. But it has remained neutral in the war between Sith and Republic. So both factions have a presence on this world, by neither has attempted to conquer it for fear of screwing up the natural resource supply. But Siths are gonna Sith, so they have several conspiracies in play to gain the upper hand, which be bad for this world.

First things first, I hate the layout of my so-called favorite planet. I appreciated how Tatooine had a single hub, that was big enough to feel like a city, but small enough to fit within a single load screen. Manaan is not so--there's about 4-5 separate, interconnected to hubs. There layouts are all very similar but also different. So it's confusing--which T-shaped hub am I in right now? And each hub has 1 or 2 key mission givers or people, so you've gotta run around trying to remember who is where.

That's out of the way...

First thing I did was find out a Republic hero had been accused of murdering a Sith agent in a hotel room. It's annoying, but kinda fun, as you have to interrogate witnesses, collecting evidence, and maybe grease a few palms. Then there's a court scene where you present your case. If this were a whole game, it would be kinda fun--but seeing as I just wanted to be done with this game, I got a little annoyed. But ultimately--I had fun and thought it was pretty good.

Turns out the local youth have been missing. I need to get into the sith embassy to find out why. They won't let me. Some bounty hunter that only values violence spills the beans when I threaten him. Not because he's scared, but because he likes violence. I don't like this guy.

I also get a mission to investigate why the republic is hiring so many bounty hunters that then go missing. While looking into that, I'm let in on a secret. The republic have built a secret underwater facility to get the special resource. Apparently "moderate" locals realize if the Sith win, Manaan's sovereignty will be at risk. Aligning with the republic is the smartest move. But still... political grey.

Turns out something went wrong and they've been sending bounty hunters down there. Oh, but first, I have to earn some good will by breaking into the sith embassy and stealing back data from a downed satellite that belonged to the Republic. I'm given options to break in. I opt to interrogate a prison for their code. Mild threat of violence against their wife and I'm in. Remember, we're the noble good guys.

The code gets me in the front door. But we're immediately found out. Not sure why we bothered with sneaking in if we were just gonna kill everyone. So just like on the first world, I'm exploring a Sith base. Funny how often this happens. I realize old man jedi, Jolee, can stun droids...very helpful. I find the missing local youth and they think the sith are here to help. I have to prove the sith are bad. This entails walking across the hall, find a dying friend, and then saying as much to the survivors. It's enough.

I grab the data and I'm out. Then I get arrested. I have to prove my innocence. I have a defender but he's not sharing the important detail: the sith are evil. The sith conspiring to be evil gets me a pass on breaking and murdering. Now the republic is like, go check on our underwater base. How nice, that's where we suspect the ancient star map to be.

This area is kinda interesting. It's a zombie like scenario. When trying to harvest the resource a loud noise made all the locals go crazy and start killing everyone. The locals are fish-ppl. Turns out there's a mythic giant shark that no one has seen. But the harvesting machines disturbed it. I guess it wants to protect the ecosystem.

So I have to do some underwater walking, just like the space walk. It's slow moving. But I have a sonic weapon to kill sharks. I feel about killing them. I wish it just drove them away.

Turns out there's two ways to handle the shark, either poison it and save the equipment or destroy the equipment and hope that works. It does. I don't know if there's a consequence to destroying the equipment, but when I'm later interviewed by the local judges in my THIRD trial on this planet, they seem to appreciate the preservation of the shark and resources. Seems the whole planet's wildlife could have been wiped out.

Oh yeaj, and the star map was by the shark.

So the shark sensed a threat to the planet and so called upon all sea life, including the locals, to fight in its defense. Tho against their will. Interesting, but violent.

So now I have the star map. Time for the end game...I think. Hopefully it won't take much longer. I'm concerned about the final boss fight. Some accidental reading has led me to thinking it'll be tough...and I'm not very motivated for a tough fight.

So, I dont "love" the story. I appreciate the gameplay and dialogue choices, but the dialog is not written particularly well. There's an impatient anger behind it. Like the writer assumed gamers would get board with the story, so offered them harsh dialog choices to compensate.

I've watched several videos from someone claiming to be doing an analysis. He hates the story more than I could dream of. But he's calling out tropes and structure issues. He's not always over critical.

Oh well...

#Zach's Game Journal #PLAYING #Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic #Video Games #Gaming #Android Gaming

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fanahannah · 2 years

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A Mind Unraveled

I had never experienced a psychotic episode before. No one told me Vyvanse could cause them. I was already in the thralls of it before I or my partner could do anything about it. Lots of inventing new “math”. Sleep became secondary. That time is all a haze to me at this point, almost a year later. I’ll skip most of it, and save it for a later date. I will talk about how I was treated because of it. We’re going to start on February 2nd, groundhog’s day.

I’m wearing a crop top, and sweats that a friend and neighbor gave me. She convinced me to put on pants and begged me to stay inside while she went to work. I couldn’t listen. I walked outside in the snow with no shoes on. I flagged down a car and begged them to take me to the hospital. A short time later, I was in the back of a squad car, surrounded by at least a dozen police officers. I admitted to taking substances which I hadn’t, and I was arrested without confirmation of my story. They would believe me, when I was making absolutely no sense as long as it fit their beliefs. Only drugs could cause this. I couldn’t explain that the drugs I were on was prescribed by a doctor. Public intoxication was my charge. They took me to the police station, a large toddler sitting in their backseat. I tried desperately to take the hat from the front seat because I really wanted to wear it. It was resting on the barrel of the officer’s gun.

The officer trying to book me had the same tattoo as me. He tried to make small talk, and all I could do was say “I’m going to pee my pants now. I’m sorry.” I tried to sleep in wet pants until I was transferred to county jail. I was placed in a cold room and tried to sleep on the cold floor. It was a room filled with telephones and I tried to figure out how to call home. A guard came by and angrily replaced the phones on the receivers without really acknowledging my existence.

They attempted to book me several times. I wasn’t hostile, but I also wasn’t cooperative. I was in the mindset of three year old. I would wander off as they were trying to pry information out of me. I thought they were aliens and I had been abducted. If I could be polite and just not give them information, they would let me go. They tried at least 3 times to get my information. Then they would send me back to my cell, 120. All concrete. All cold. The last time, I took interest in the plexiglass sneeze guard at the central desk. I poked it with my finger to test the simulation I was trapped in. A guard bellows “Don’t touch that”. I found a flaw in the game. I have to exploit it. I touch it again.

I’m slammed against the wall. My hands are forced behind my back. I’m attempted to shove my hands through what they call the “bean door” a little slot in the giant metal door. It doesn’t work. I’m shoved in the cell. I’m bodyslammed to the floor. Here comes another guard. I later learned it was his 3rd day on the job. He seemed energetic and scared. They desperately want me to go on my back. I do not want that. I don’t want to suffocate in the prone position. I can’t vocalize that in my psychotic state. They try and try. They have two sets of cuffs on me, but still no budging. I start to laugh. It’s still a game. I’m fighting off two full grown men with ease. I feel no pain. I feel no contempt. No anger. I feel like I’m doing the right thing, self preservation. The man who body slammed me starts saying “I’m going to tase you” over and over again. He unhoslters, and unloads his stun gun into my leg. No effect. He does it again. And again. And again. I don’t budge. He has this look of immense fear on his face. He goes for my stomach as the rookie tries to get a better position in front of me instead of beside me. I lurch forward as taser meets just below my belly button, and my face lands into the shoulder of the rookie. I feel the electricity for the first time, but in my mouth as I tase the rookie with my open maw. They seem pleased with this. “You’re gonna get it now, you were just here for a misdemeanor and now that’s a felony. You’re in it now. You drew blood. That’s it for you. It’s over.” The blood was from my ankles and wrists from being repeatedly slammed onto the concrete and having cuffs tightened over and over again. The evidence photos don’t even show teeth marks. They back off of me since they got what they wanted, and I go limp. The lights are bright. I close my eyes while laying on my back looking up at the fluorescents. Even with eyes closed it is blindingly bright. They leave me alone for a while still cuffed.

Time passed, they uncuffed me, and I curl up in the corner of the room. I stay there for hours. The food they shoved through the door sits motionless. I think they’re trying to trap me with it. I don’t eat for a few days. I repeat nonsensical words over and over because I think It creates a force field protecting me. I try and create a transportation whistle from my hair and some foam from the metal door. It worked through whistling, and I whistled so hard and so loud. I felt the first taste of freedom since going in. It doesn’t last.

The lights never turn off. I’m still in the underwear I pissed myself in days ago. I sleep on the floor, wrapped up in tattered scratchy blankets with an eye slit always watching the door. Around day 3 or 4, they start bringing me some kind of antipsychotic. I start to come out of my psychosis, and I feel sore. I feel broken. I’m in a haze. I finally get to talk to my family. They sound depressed and disappointed. My partner sounds so happy that I’m alive and guilty that he couldn’t help me. I finally get a plastic bed that they call a boat. I’m promised new underwear, but it never comes. I’m given a pencil and an envelope that I unravel to write what happened to me. I’m also given a bible. I read the Samuel chapters and learn that David was in a gay relationship with a man named Johnathan. Two days before I’m scheduled to be bonded out, I get a shower at midnight. Time doesn’t mean anything to me at this point. I leave my underwear on to have them be at least a little bit washed. I don’t really wash because I’m convinced it’s a gas chamber that they’re going to use to kill me with. The sounds outside of my cell sound like people laughing and loading guns over and over again. I’ve slept in 2 or 3 hour increments for almost a week. The lights never went off except for the last night that I’m there. No one would tell me the time, and they would close my viewing door to prevent me from being able to see the clock. I had to learn the guards names to ask them what time it was. Other people on the ward would scream all night incoherently.

My first moments out of the jail, I hug my dad for what most likely will be the last time. He hasn’t spoken to me since I transitioned. My partner took me home, and I sang all the way home at the top of my lungs. I tickled my son while he was sitting in his car seat because his laughter was immediately a healing sound to hear. I feel disheveled and broken, but I escaped and made it out alive. We crest a hill while driving and I can see for literal miles. The open blue sky is foreign. It’s completely breathtaking, and not in a good way. I felt like all the air was being sucked out of my lungs. I cried and cried and cried. I did my hormone injection and showered for real. I start to feel some semblance of normalcy. I lay in my california king bed with my partner, my dog, and we watch TV.

The normalcy fades in the coming weeks, and I have to start dealing with the trauma that I suffered. I had nerve damage in my thumbs from the cuffs. I had bruises from the walls and floor I was slammed into. I had burns on my legs and stomach that had to heal. The part that has taken the longest to heal is my mind. I was agoraphobic for months. I had to stop watching my favorite shows because I had been convinced they were killing me through some government white light death ray. I still can’t watch some of them because it’s too triggering.

I’ve come so far from that time. I feel alive. I’m reminded of the events that took place every time I go to my probation visits. I can never fully distance myself from those memories and experiences. I’m still not okay, but I’m getting there. All the misgendering and dehumanization almost made me detransition. I’m so glad I didn’t. I feel more comfortable in my skin now than ever before. The reminders of that time are cold and sting. One day, enough time will have passed and I’ll have progressed far enough that I won’t have to feel the pain of those things. They’ll be distant. I’ll still be here. I love myself. I was tested to my breaking point, and I made it out.

#psychosis #county jail

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