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#but i think it should stay because. well. yeah no that was still very commonly used in 2006
aroaceleovaldez · 3 months
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i hope this doesn't sound like a silly or weird thing to send you, but i'm autistic and have long thought of nico and a handful of other riordanverse characters as autistic and i love your posts about why nico in particular seems intentionally autistic-coded. but i've been thinking, if rick did intend for any of his characters to be autistic, why wouldn't he say so outside of the text at least? i can't think of a good reason why not, when he goes out of his way to be explicit about so many other characters' various marginalized identities and has confirmed things like reyna being asexual outside of the original text. so it gives me this nagging sort of doubt that maybe rick just made nico come off as so extremely autistic coded by accident, somehow. if it wasn't an accident i do kind of wish he'd say so because there's next to zero explicitly stated autistic representation in, like, any media so it'd be nice to have here even if not strictly necessary. either way though, like i said, i love your posts and i agree with you 100% about autistic nico! some others i like to think are autistic are annabeth and leo.
(Most of this is gonna be kind of a tangential ramble to your point and i apologize in advance just bear with me)
This actually touches upon something I've been meaning to do a write-up on recently, which is: depending on the coding, that is our explicit statement. In most coding, actually, that's kind of the point. (Also something something Death of the Author.)
You may have noticed a recent trend across media of characters saying things directly rather than expressing them in a natural way, and often this includes incredibly stilted dialogue of characters explaining things in very politically correct, wikipedia-esque descriptions and terminology that make absolutely no sense for the characters' personalities or mannerisms. This is born out of the idea that if something is not stated in explicit terms, no amount of evidence below an outright direct exact statement will ever count - if two characters of the same gender have an explicit kiss and wedding on-screen, it doesn't matter because they never said the word "gay," etc etc.
In PJO, prior to more recent books, we get plenty of examples of characters explaining parts of their identities without direct statements. Percy never needs to say in outright terms that he has PTSD from Gabe - and it doesn't make sense that he would! He's 12! He's never been diagnosed for that. He probably doesn't even know what PTSD is really. But we, the audience, know without a doubt he has PTSD, because it is clearly expressed to us. That is coding. Tyson is coded as having down syndrome. Nico is coded as being autistic. It doesn't make sense for Nico to turn to the camera and explain that he's autistic and what that means, because he definitely never got diagnosed for it and probably doesn't know what that means cause the diagnosis literally did not exist when he was growing up - and heck, autism terminology was still kind of getting sorted out back in 2007 when TTC was published, so it's unlikely we could have feasibly gotten any exact terminology wink-wink-nudge-nudges short of something like how Percy outright mentions other students called Tyson the r-slur in Sea of Monsters. And in fact we see that same exact style of coding with Nico later on in the series. Nico never turns to the camera and says word-for-word "I am gay, I am mlm, here's me wearing my exact pride flags" (until TOA/TSATS, which... did the exact thing i mentioned about characters speaking like theyre trying to get a good grade in therapy, or giving a powerpoint presentation). But it is never unclear that HoO is telling us outright that Nico is gay. It's not just hinted at. It's there, in your face. But entirely because no one ever outright says "gay" specifically it's technically still only coding. We know he's gay, we know the characters have trauma/ptsd, etc etc. We don't need it spelled out - that's just kind of condescending. It's like if you said describing a character with "eyes like moss" means they were "green-eye coded."
Nico being autistic-coded isn't hidden. It's not a secret. It's very overt. If you know what autism looks like, well, yeah, there he is. Even if you only know very vague 2007 media presentation of autism, Nico in TTC is easily recognizable enough as autistic because that's the point. Tyson is easily recognizable as being coded as having down syndrome and it's very clearly very intentional! It's just never spoon-fed in exact terms to the reader because it's not necessary! You've already been told the information necessary to tell you what is up with this character, so just plainly going "oh they're [x] in exact terms" is very much telling-not-showing and feels redundant. And while there are places for that kind of thing, most of the time it's very unnecessary. Sometimes coding is subtle, sometimes it's obvious, and yeah there are times where writers code characters unintentionally, but the textual evidence is there, and that's the whole point.
And that's what Death of the Author is about - it doesn't matter what the author intended at the end of the day, because if it's in the text it's in the text. You can look at author intent to try and figure out what that text means, but the text is the text. A Separate Peace is a very classic example - author John Knowles denies there being homosexual subtext, and meanwhile one of the protagonists living in 1942 puts on a pink shirt while saying he doesn't mind of people think of him as gay. What the author says after the fact doesn't matter - if it's there, it's there. So Rick saying anything outside of the books is completely irrelevant. And Rick talks about this a lot - he actively tells people that his statements outside of the books are just his own thoughts, but what's in the books is what's in the books, and if the text supports it then that's all the evidence you need.
Nico specifically is a case where yeah, he's clearly autistic-coded. It's very obvious and very obviously intentional when he's younger, and as the books progress it remains a background trait of his but is still notable (except for when it gets forgotten in TOA/TSATS like everything else, including the adhd/dyslexia, but i digress). It's a clear pattern within the first few books that Rick is intentionally including. It doesn't make sense, especially for the year the book was published, for the reader to be directly told in explicit terminology that Nico is autistic, because the reader is already being told that Nico is autistic.
And yeah, Rick doesn't mention Nico being autistic-coded outside of the text, but he also doesn't mention Tyson being coded as having down syndrome. He also said one time that Percy doesn't have PTSD at all, which is very incorrect starting from book 1. Again, Death of the Author. Whatever Rick says outside of the books does not matter, because he already said it in the books. And there's plenty of other stuff in the books that Rick doesn't touch upon, particularly relating to character identity - did you know Leo is Native? Sammy mentions that the Valdez family is Native in Son of Neptune but we don't get any specifics and then it's like never brought up again anywhere. That happens all the time in the series - and outside of the series - Rick can't possibly address every single point to confirm/deny everything from the books. That's what analysis is for! And that's why my blog exists 👍
#pjo#riordanverse#nico di angelo#autistic nico#analysis#ask#Anonymous#long post //#tone indicator just to be sure cause i know i used a lot of italics: this is all non-agressive/not mad i prommy#im just very passionate about this topic (coding & fandom concepts surrounding ''canon'' + death of the author)#also controversial opinion cause i know some people have talked about wanting the use of the r-slur in SoM censored#but i think it should stay because. well. yeah no that was still very commonly used in 2006#trust me i heard it a lot. i was there. in fact it was commonly used after that point. for awhile.#it wasnt until like a bit into the 2010s iirc that campaigns started to go ''hey maybe. dont use that word.''#like that was RECENT#and yeah! these books are not old! TLT is only just coming up on 20 years. thats not super old for a book!#and yeah! that term was considered a-okay terminology to be used in a middle grade book in 2006! which is startling to think now!#but that's also why it's important to not erase that#because otherwise you forget that up until very recently that word was considered Perfectly Acceptable#and in SoM it's even specifically acknowledged to be used in a hurtful way! Percy is actively condemning it!#like. dont put it in the show or whatever. obviously. replace it with a different indication/coding to explain Tyson's struggles#not that i think Disney would put the r-slur in their show. but like. dont erase it from the book??? from 2006??????#i am frightened to see how the show will handle tyson though. its not gonna go well i can feel it in my bones#anyways man i should post that excerpt from A Separate Peace though#just cause that scene has lived in my brain rent-free for years
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haunted-xander · 1 year
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I am Chiaki Nanami, the former Ultimate Gamer and now a member of Future Foundation, 14th division. Currently, I'm doing a few side quests. Most of which are locating and rescuing survivors, as well as calming down everyone that's temporarily living in the 'safe houses' the Future Foundation has set up. My main quest however...
Is to locate and save the Remnants of Despair behind my organisations back. I guess this is treason, but I can't stand the thought of having my former classmates and friends mercilessly slaughtered. Chiaki is snapped out of her thoughts by the ringing of her cellphone. "H-Hello? This is Ryota Mitarai, a member of the 10th division. Is this Chiaki Nanami?" Ah, it's Mitarai-kun. "...Yes, this is Chiaki Nanami. What are you calling for?" There's a pause and a bit of rustling coming from the other end of the phone. "Ah, um, are you... alone right now? I-I have some... confidential stuff to talk with you about. I'd rather not risk the wrong person overhearing..."
She quickly looked around to make sure she's really alone before responding, "...Yeah, it's just me. I know what you want to talk about... I think." An audible sigh could be heard from Ryotas end. "O-oh! Tha-that's good... I guess I don't need to explain myself then?" Chiaki made to nod before realizing he can't see her. "...Yep. It's about the Remnants, right? You don't want them to get hurt, either... right?"
"Y-yeah... I d-didn't know them all as well as you did but... E-everyone I did meet where all... wonderful and nice people... m-mostly..." His voice trailed off at the end, but... Chiaki knew what he meant. Tsumiki-san... "...And I... I want t-to... make up for everything I've done. I-it's all... a-all my fa-fault a-any-nywa-way-" No longer able to keep it together, he broke out into sobs. "...Mitarai-kun. It's okay, it's not your fault. Enoshima-san made you do it, right? So she's the one who did wrong." Comforting -or dealing with emotions in general- has never been Chiaki's strong suit. Because of that, she even struggles with dating simulators or any game that relies on reading social cues and the emotions of the characters despite her title of 'Ultimate Gamer'.
Ryota had a long pause, the only sound from his end being the quiet sobs he couldn't stifle. "...M-moving on... I called you because I... found some intel on Remnant action. Two of them have reportedly been seen lurking around close to the ruins of Hope's Peak Academy." Around Hope's Peak...? That's where I'm at, too... "I-I'm afraid I don't know which ones though... If you plan to search for them you should be careful. T-the reports say they don't seem to be doing much, but they're p-probably just waiting for the perfect time to strike."
"...Do you have any specifics of where they frequent? It's gonna be tough to search the entire surrounding area for just two people."
"U-um, well, o-one of them seem to be staying c-close to the school... They don't seem to wander around much. N-not to the point it's been noticed at least... As for the other one... Let me see... Oh! Looks like they commonly lurk about the Reserve Course department and some of the nearby housings." The Reserve Course department? Is it... Hi- ah, Kamukura-kun...? If it is, I need to find him quick. ...Oh, but... Since he's not brainwashed, saving him might be difficult... Hi- Kamukura-kun is the first one, and probably the strongest one too... He's totally the 'final boss' of the Remnants. Oh wait, Enoshima-san should be the final one... Guess Kamukura-kun would be the second-to-final boss, then... Or maybe third? There's Ikusaba-san too, after all...
"...Um... Nanami-san?" Snapped out of her internal final boss rant, she remembered she was, in fact, still in a phone call. "...Oh, sorry. I was thinking." Ryota awkwardly laughed. "Ah, um, it's fine... W-was my intel helpful?" Having to stop herself from nodding again, she settled for a simple, "Mhm. Very helpful. I'll head out to look for them soon, since I'm in that area anyway." Chiaki felt a chill suddenly run up her spine. She could feel eyes on her. "...Actually, I should head out right now."
"R-right now? Isn't it a bit too dark out...?"
"Yep. Right now. Gottagobye-"
"Nana-!" She hung up. The feeling of being watched is never pleasant, and it's even worse when you're speaking about delicate topics in hostile enviourments. The eyes never seemed to stray from her even as she got up and went ahead on her search.
As unpleasant as it was, she got the feeling whoevers watching her didn't mean her any harm.
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creekfiend · 1 year
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Re: my tags on the plurality post I just reblogged. I realize this may not be well known information so. Here is the You're Wrong About ep about "multiple personality disorder"
There is a very good transcript available on that page if you are not able to listen to the podcast.
The tl;dr is that the entire phenomenon of "MPD" as we conceptualize it popularly is extraordinarily closely linked to both the phenomena of "repressed childhood abuse memories" and, necessarily, the satanic panic. There is this idea of like, certain types of abuse which somehow cause the "self" to "shatter" in some objective way that can itself be used as concrete evidence OF that abuse... and that's pretty much from 1 book in the 70s that became a huge cultural phenomenon. There's a citation in the podcast transcript here for a book which picks that apart called Sybil Exposed by Debbie Nathan where you can learn more about that specific case. It's also worth mentioning that the "MPD as a result of childhood abuse/repressed memories of childhood abuse" thing actually became a significant issue in legal matters where psychologists were coercing people into inventing repressed abuse memories in order to provide "evidence" to incarcerate people. It was a whole thing.
Here is an excerpt from the transcript that I like:
Sarah: Yeah. And immediately, it becomes just a cultural phenomenon. The author gets bushels of letters, almost all of them from American women and girls. And a lot of them write about feeling like they don't have multiple personality disorder, but they feel like they have all these different selves and different people they are at different times. And it's like, yeah, because being a woman in 1973 means that you in a very obvious way, sociologically are being torn between all of these positions in society. It's like, you want to be a good daughter, but you want to have sex and you want to maybe have a job or stay home and iron a little, I don't know.  Mike: And probably a lot of unaddressed traumas too. I mean, probably a lot of the people had seen terrible things and we're still dealing with the trauma of it. And this gave them somewhat of a voice to their trauma or a lens through which to view their trauma that, you know, something happened to you that day and I'm still dealing with it because it's not like in 1973, society was great at being like, let's listen to people who say that they have trauma.
So like, none of this is to say that DID "isn't real" or that any way of framing having a lot of conflicting parts of oneself or different internal selves or whatever is bad or not useful. It is self evidently very useful for many people.
However. Our cultural understanding of what it means to have "other personalities" specifically AS A RESULT OF TRAUMA, as like, this objective THING that takes place inside your brain when something is DONE to you... is like a VERY culturally specific concept.
And obviously DID/plural/system stuff is often quite distinct from "MPD" style framing of multiple selves. Specifically the psychologist obsession with MPD often revolves around the "solving" or integration of selves, whereas plural/system people I know tend to decry that. Theres many other differences also. HOWEVER I think that learning about the history of how this has been framed and who invented a lot of the commonly accepted "facts" about it is like... really important. In terms of being able to control your own experience of conceptualizing your internal state. Regardless of what framing and models you find to be useful or true. Like... as people whose brains are constantly being pathologized and moralized we should ABSOLUTELY know about & be concerned about patterns of psychological abuse which may play into concepts we have of how our brains work. You know?
And because people are not good at taking posts like this in good faith: I know that people describing having multiple selves has been a thing in many places over many time periods, I think the experience of having more than one 'self' is real (I mean what is a self anyway, per my last reblog, right) and I have friends who are plural/systems/etc. I myself absolutely feel that I have many facets to my "self" which I do often find it helpful to conceptualize as discrete entities when I'm working through stuff. I don't personally find the framing of plurality or systemhood useful *for my self* but you know if you read this blog that means nothing in terms of whether I think it's useful or real for other people.
I just.
As a psych abuse survivor I really want us to be intentional and precise about these things and make sure we have all the information we need to make sure we aren't reinforcing some really narsty shit that's been used to hurt a lot of people.
And also to be like, whose word am I taking for this? What rules do I think this phenomenon follows and why do I think that has to be true? Like it is one thing to put words to an experience or a framework, right, and it is another to go "well the system blog I read says that one self has to be fronting at a given time so now I have to figure out which of my selves is doing that" or whatever like... with ALL frameworks for internal experiences ("diagnoses" lol) I think it's important to be like, am I taxonomizing this by describing how it is for me, or am I trying to sort my experiences into these boxes as described by someone else? And like, the latter is not good for people in general I don't think. And of course in any group or community you will get people who are prescriptive about who belongs in what categories and how your experience has to look in order to belong there or use whatever terminology. And that's not true. You can use whatever frameworks you want and if they don't fit later you can modify or discard them!
Wow I hope this is coherent. Anyway going to go ahead and make this puppy unrebloggable because lmao but I am happy to talk about it with people so please feel free to leave replies or asks as long as no one is yelling at me and accusing me of like, denying experiences. Because I am extremely not doing that. Ty
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pkmnomegaverse · 2 years
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Omg omg Dylan and Micah eventually have a child??? Heck yeah
Yes! Baby Alton!
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(PiCrew credit here)
For quite some time, I’ve had a plotline where near the climax of the “main plotline,” UB attacks are getting pretty bad in certain areas, and in the Hoenn area, Dylan being the Champion means he’s kinda sorta leading the defensive against them (although obviously all the other major players in Hoenn are helping as well.  Team Terra in particular pretty much runs all the surveillance to determine when a UB shows up and then works with the League to dispatch a team to deal with the threat/clean up the aftermath). But due to both his connection to Dylan and also just by virtue of being the Sootopolis Gym Leader, Micah is pretty heavily involved as well. In fact, since the UBs end up appearing mostly in the ocean area in eastern Hoenn, Micah is a first responder of sorts. Commonly being the first League member to arrive on the scene when the alarm goes out, riding out on his Gyrados to survey the situation.  But with this comes its own level of danger, since he’s often having to try and fight off these overpowered creatures no one is quite sure how to deal with (or at least limit the damage, since sometimes there is no fighting them off). Imagine a kaiju movie, this is the vibe of the situation. Very Pacific Rim if I’m being honest.
But then Micah discovers he’s pregnant with his and Dylan’s first child, which causes this whole drama of whether he should still be out on the front lines.  Micah still wants to fight, as he’s a very duty oriented person, which drives him to feel like he has to help fight off this threat to his homeland. But even he’s still apprehensive deep down, knowing he’s putting himself in a situation where he could lose his baby if an attack goes badly. A baby he very much wants, since while he and Dylan weren’t trying for kids, they had discussed perhaps starting a family in the nearish future. Once things calmed down obviously.
Dylan is against Micah staying as directly involved, but also realizes he can’t really stop Micah if he insists on fighting (plus the UBs are a legit threat, so there is that to consider as well). So it makes things a bit tense between them, but they do work through it. Lots of Dylan trying to get Micah to promise to only get involved if there’s no other option. Trying to convince him to focus on the less dangerous parts of dealing with the UB threats and leave direct fighting to others. Also Dylan just trying to be together with Micah more often so he can make sure he’s the one getting in the main line of fire vs Micah (which leads to its own tense conversation about how Dylan getting injured/potentially killed isn’t any better). All of this works to varying levels of success. I like the idea of them having a scare where Micah does get injured during an attack. But obviously they don’t lose the baby, cause I’m softhearted deep down.  
In the “epilogue” I have in my head for the main plotline, Micah and Dylan’s ending would be them with newborn baby Alton.  Sort of a sign of a “new dawn” since the threat is past. Alton doesn’t really have much development of his own, he’s more a byproduct of me liking the idea of Micah being pregnant when final battle stuff is going down. I wanted to run that plotline with someone, and Micah and Dylan were the obvious choice. Since they’re like 25/26ish when this is going down and either married or engaged at this point (I can never decide if they get married pre or post Alton being born, because I also like to milk the Peyton/Micah drama for all it’s worth. And easier for Peyton to pine and tell himself he still has a chance if Micah and Dylan aren’t technically married yet. For all that that ship has sailed on Micah’s end and baby on the way is very much a final nail in that coffin).
But yes, baby Alton! I think he and Aubin are the only true fangrandkids I have named at this point.
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mad-hunts · 25 days
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From @divingdownthehole, because Tumblr’s side blog features annoy me, and I don’t want to broadcast my personal blog here.
💤 and 💯?
hello, @divingdownthehole! forgive me for taking so long to get back to you on this, but yesss, i totally agree with you on tumblr's side blog features being... well, stupid, if i'm being honest haha. but lets get right into this now, shall we? so, whenever it comes to whether barton is a light sleeper or a heavy sleeper, i feel like he is most definitely the former. and part of this might be due to the fact that, since you are technically a lot more vulnerable when you're sleeping, barton's sense of hypervigilance kind of prevents him from remaining asleep through pretty much anything like a heavy sleeper would. i will probably talk more about why he experiences it later, but for now, just know that it has a lot to do with his past. specifically when he was still with his biological father, wesley. as sad as it may sound, barton basically conditioned himself to be able to wake up at any particularly loud noise, like footsteps or the sound of someone crying, because he was sometimes afraid that he might not wake up the next day due to how monstrous wesley truly was.
and this carried on through him well into his adulthood by both influencing him to stay as a light sleeper in addition to him keeping a knife underneath his pillow and / or keeping it somewhere where he could easily access it if he was in danger. so, if there is one thing that you should know about barton, it's that he does not trust people easily whatsoever and he can be quite paranoid about people's 'real' intentions sometimes. other than that, though, barton's sleeping habits are honestly very unbalanced. he has gone through several periods in his life where he only slept a few hours every night and would be dead-tired in the morning because of it; however, most of the time, barton believes that he can't really help it. it's night time whenever he really begins to think about his life and this part of him that desires to receive some sort of punishment for everything he's done to other people typically emerges.
because at the end of the day, i feel like barton knows well that he is a terrible person in more ways than one and so he'll do the only thing he can do: which is to cry. but regardless of what commonly keeps him up at night... nowadays, barton is more in flux between either sleeping too much or sleeping too little. so as i've said, his sleeping habits are very unbalanced and people like his kids have pointed it out to him before, but no matter how much he tries to change it — he just seems to fall into the same old habits of either feeling so depressed that all he wants to do is sleep all day or not being able to go to sleep in the first place for a while because his thoughts are racing. but ooh... okay, emi, i'm going to start off the three random facts with quite the doozy to lift the mood a little bit.
barton knows how to knit and if you are close to him, expect to receive at least some sort of gloves / scarf / blanket from him, because he LOVES to do it as well. i guess it may be due to a mix of him finding it relaxing in a way and him figuring that he probably could use being able to indulge in a hobby that has nothing to do with his persona as the dollmaker. but yeah, barton has been doing that for some time now, actually. another fact that you may not know about him is that he also likes to hunt and i don't mean in the way that he kills people. barton has taken to engaging in things like deer hunting, bird hunting, and the occasional fox-hunt / coyote hunt. thus... barton usually has at least some venison hanging around his house, either in a dried form or in the fridge, just waiting to be cooked. his reasons behind hunting are usually either for meat, the fact that during it you're very immersed in nature, and because it gives him this alone time that he sometimes craves that is invaluable.
now, as for the last fact that you may not know about barton, it's that he often has one night of the week designated to doing some sort of activity with his family. and this kind of highlights just how contradictory he can be in regards to what his values are regarding family + the fact that he often doesn't treat his children that well. because during these nights, barton is arguably at his most agreeable and genuinely wants his kids to be having fun with him. so they often end up doing things like playing cards or having a movie marathon with each other. so yeah. that about wraps up my answer for this ask, but i hoped you liked it, emi!
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alkahero72 · 8 months
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My Honest Thoughts on AHS Asylum
It's shit, the whole thing is shit. First of all, too many subplots. way too many, the nazi, Kit and his girls, the aliens, Bloodyface, Judy, etc there's just so much and to be honest it gets really convoluted and jumbles up, Kit having 2 wives felt really pointless because what we were shown of his character up until that point he doesn't seem like the kind of guy to just bang another chick after his wife got sent to the fucking shadow realm. I also don't like Grace very much. I think she should have died when she was shown and shouldn't have randomly come back, i also have no fucking clue how she came back that string of scenes was sooo confusing i had no clue what was happening. When Kit came home to Alma he should have broken up with Grace, because why wouldn't he? Yeah i understand him letting her stay there as a friend but as a family with 3 parents? Nuh uh just feels pointless to me, in my honest opinion Grace didn't really need to be a character at all. Nazi guy, now i forgot his name cuz he's annoying as fuck but nothing came out of him being a nazi. It really didn't do anything to the plot??? It just confirmed that he was indeed the big bad when we kinda knew that already... Ok, Judy, I actually think this storyline is perfectly okay and it ties well with the main storyline of the story which is Lana and bloodyface so there isn't really anything to say about this one. No hate to Jessica Lange, she's a fantastic actor and this isn't necessarily in her control, but i feel that all her AHS character's, are the same character, they all sort of behave and act the same, excluding Constance. For one, they're all alcoholics/ used to be (Judy) and they all act extremely troubled, an old blonde woman with a dark and tragic past, this is most commonly reflected through Fiona. Now, the alien plot, again, it didn't turn into anything, there was no explanation of the events and it led to a dead end, i don't think aliens and an asylum were a good mix, because they never built upon it, it was shown as such an important plot at the beginning but then faded, and after everyone escaped Briarcliff it wasn't really brought up anymore. Onto bloodyface and Lana, while this is the main storyline there are many flaws. Lana having bloodyface's child was completely pointless, i think it was just an excuse to add more plot to the last few episodes, plus the SA scene of BF and Lana felt completely unwarranted, which ties into my next point, Shock Value. This season is just horror porn, it tries to show a lot of heavy topics such as the nazi's and the medical abuse of homosexuals. But it doesn't really do them well, the nazi subplot served no purpose and was just a huge nothing burger, along with the weird Anne Frank thing, all it did was reinforce doctor dude as a bad character, which we already knew. They are trying to shock the audience like "hey look at us our show is so dark and spooky and horror" when its just sensitive topics jumbled into one convoluted string of meaningless storylines. On a lighter note, i really enjoyed the Sister Mary Eunice plot, it tied in well with the Lana main plot with the further corruption of Briarcliff and i really think those two plots were the backbone of this season and worked well together. This brings me to my last point, the earlier seasons suffer from being too long. way. too. long. In Murder House, i just didn't know when it was gonna end, there were multiple scenes near the end of the season that i felt could have wrapped up into a nice conclusion, but it just kept going. The number and duration of episodes of season 1,2 and 4 are way longer than they needed to be. However Coven works perfectly well. I feel that Coven was an extreme improvement and i feel that the writers may have noticed the many flaws that came out of 1 and 2, but most prominently 2. Freak show is still kind of a dip down though, but it still is a vast improvement from 1 and 2. There is also just one last issue that i have to talk about, Lana. Her sudden switch-up at the end of the season really didn't make any sense to me.
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hoodiewithhorns · 3 years
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━ using your safe word scenarios ★
characters : hajime iwaizumi, tetsuro kuroo, keiji akaashi.
there will be a part 2 & 3 coming soon!
edit : p.2 is out <3
m.sterlist + requests box
▲ cw : not proof read, angst, use of safeword, “red” used as the safeword, clit spanking, mean!doms, hurt/comfort, established relationship, forced orgasm, jealousy, oral m! receiving, facefucking, foreplay f! receiving, degradation, slight punishment if you squint, aftercare/reassurance , all characters are 18+, MDNI ▼
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Kuroo
- you weren’t necessarily in a good mood to be fucked roughly by him
- you just wanted some soft passionate sex with kuroo
- You assumed he’d figure out what you wanted due to him knowing you better than yourself.
- But you were wrong..very wrong.
-Not wanting to disappoint your boyfriend you played along.
- biggest mistake.
〜 ☆
you bobbed your head on his cock while he groaned at the slow pace. you were taking your time today since you weren’t in the best mood to be shoving him down your throat. you thought he take this as a sign of you wanting things slow soft and sweet, instead he took this as a sign of you being bratty, a brat who deserves punishment in his eyes.
“you little brat.” he forcefully shoved his cock down your throat. You gagged in response feeling your eyes become glossy, tears promising to spill at any given minute, looking up at him with pleading eyes hoping he’d show some form of mercy. but of course, he didn’t. tightening the grip on your hair he moved you back and forth on his cock causing you to gag and your breathing becoming heavy.
you heart ached in your chest as you tried to push him off, but to no avail. a dark chuckle leaving his throat as he watched you struggle, a sight he would commonly enjoy. “such a bad girl today huh? maybe i should go find another goodgirl. one that’ll actually listen.” you tried to shake your head as fat tears streamed down your face, the thought of him replacing you being one your biggest fears. did he mean that? just cause you weren’t in a good mood he was gonna replace you? you thought to yourself noticing the grip he had on you loosened a little. you could move away now and so you did. pulling away from his cock trying to catch your breath only causing him to get angrier. “why are you being so bad today? why cant you be a goodgirl and-“
“Red!” you choked out a sob as more tears fell from your face staining the bed sheets beneath you. sitting up, your palms resting on your thighs as you sobbed. the room went silent with the only sound present being your soft cries alongside with your occasional sniffles. confused he lifted your chin up, you pathetically looked up at him like a helpless little puppy. he finally understood what was wrong, mumbling a few curses as he got closer to you, sitting you on his lap as you cried into his chest.
“easy now baby. i’m so sorry...” he whispered thanking whatever was above that he hadn’t lost you, feeling horrible for not picking up the obvious signs you weren’t in the mood for any of this.
“d-do you really wanna l-leave me?” your voice was hoarse from one getting your throat fucked and two crying. hugging you tighter and feeling nothing but regret. each cry you let out tugged at his heartstrings. he never wanted this how could he have been so blind? you were his little baby he wanted to protect every chance he got. now you were here. sobbing into his chest all because he didn’t realize you weren’t in the right mood today. 
“never prettygirl. i’d be devastated without you in my life... I didn’t mean that I promise.” he pulled you away from his chest to face you. kissing the few tears you had left on you. even with tears pampered all over your face, to him you still managed to be pretty. even if it hurt him since he was the reason for all this, you could tell he was on the brink of tears too. he couldn’t imagine a life without you without his precious girlfriend in his life he’d be a train wreck.
“i-i...i just wanted us to go nice and gentle tonight..i didn’t have a good day today..but i didn’t want you to be mad since you like it when its rough so..”
he let out a chuckle at your last sentence causing you to look at him in confusion. “yeah being rough is nice and all but its only nice when you’re in the right mindset for it. you should’ve told me you weren’t feeling it tonight baby. If you wanna get fucked nice and gently by me you should’ve just said so my love.” he says planting a kiss on your forehead.
you smiled, reverting back to your previously cheery self making kuroo more than happy. he rested his head on top your shoulder “if you want, we can try again baby. this time i’ll give it to you nice and sweet..you’d like that wouldn’t you my pretty baby?” he whispers into your ear planting kisses down your neck as you let out a whimper feeling him smirk against your neck.
“mm-mhm please tetsu...”
he wastes no time wrapping his arms around your waist as your cunt feels him hardening again. “whatever my baby wants who am i to deny?”
akaashi
- the thought of using your safeword never occurred to you when you were with akaashi
- in fact he suggested it just in case things took a turn you didn’t like
- tonight was different though you were his innocent girlfriend who just wanted to treat him the way he treats you so lovingly
- wearing nothing but his shirt accompanied by a cute pair of panties feeling confident about your plan to please your boyfriend.
- though it doesn’t go according to plan,
you saw him sitting on the bed reading a novel still in his formal clothing. You were feeling particularly needy tonight learning a few new things you read from the internet a week ago on how to please your boyfriend sexually. you did however feel a bundle of nerves fill you up, but you just assumed it was because this was something you’ve never done before to anyone.
akaashi was not only your first, but he was your first boyfriend your first everything when it came to romance. now, putting all your insecurities aside, you were going to try out what you learned tonight on your beloved boyfriend!
 walking towards him, you crawled on top of his lap, arms wrapped around his neck to pull him in for a sweet kiss. he smirked setting his book down on the nightstand while taking his glasses off as well.
“Can I help you pretty girl?” he questioned placing his hands on your hips. “oh nothing...i just want you tonight..is that okay?” you asked, your innocent voice making akaashi smile. you were just so cute and pure in his eyes. you jump in excitement ready to initiate your plan to please your boyfriend. you started kissing him slowly yet passionately, grinding your wet cunt against his slowly hardening cock through his pants.
he opened his eyes to clearly understand what you were doing. to his shock what he assumed was correct. His innocent girlfriend who had no knowledge on how to please her boyfriend grinding up against him. maybe you were just being extra needy? he told himself. not longer after he snapped back to reality as he felt you pull away from him only to kiss down his jaw leaving a trail of soft kisses.
His cheeks becoming red as your soft lips traced down to unbutton his shirt. “so handsome..” You said kissing his chest as you went down to his abdomen. he would be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying this, but.... Your not gonna do what he thinks you are right?? his own girlfriend who was too shy who cried at the first attempt to sucking him off?? no he must be getting ahead of himself.
looking down once more to check up on you, he finds you unbuckling his pants letting his cock spring free. his mouth agape seeing your head already lick his precum nice and clean, pumping him a few times to get all his precum out. he shudders as your wet tongue touches his cock, giving him kitten licks here and there. taking a deep breath, shoving him down your throat all in one go, a small gag escaping from you, squeezing your eyes tightly trying your best not to cry.
humming, you bobbing back and forth making him grunt at the waves of pleasure you were giving him. Still, he felt uneasy. who taught you this?? he was always the one guiding you, teaching you how to do things yet here you were sucking him down your pretty little throat. head thrown back his groans mixed with his thoughts, he kept overthinking the reasons as to how you picked up on this.
did Bokuto teach you?? you two always got along so well..sometimes leaving akaashi to third wheel, but why was he thinking about that now??
 “shit..” he grunted as he felt his high approaching. He tried to pull your head back so he wouldn’t end up cumming in your mouth, but you stayed on his cock till he came.
smiling at him, you licked your lips, swallowing his cum. leaving him surprised at everything you’ve just done. you’ve never did any of this nor tried to. It hurt the first time you tried to give him head now here you are taking him down your throat? He couldn’t believe it.
he wanted to get to the bottomed of this quickly.
“dirty girl.” he spits out flipping you to the other side of the bed, pushing your head down to the pillow putting your ass up with your cunt in full display for him. you winced at the sudden aggressive force.
“who taught you all those things you little slut?”hooking his finger onto your soaked panties to push them aside, he shoved two fingers deep inside of your dripping hole making you whimper at the painful stretch, not giving you enough time to adjust as he pumped into you.
“k-keiji w-wait!!” you whined screwing your eyes shut to fight back your tears, while he started pumping his fingers at an inhuman pace, he hovered over you, your back to his chest while his head rested on your shoulder.
“i asked you a question, so I expect an answer.” his voice was cold and stern without a sound of love or worry. the stretch of his fingers were painful especially with how he was practically scissoring you open. your eyes rolled at to the back of your head feeling your climax approaching, but it hurt so much you weren’t used to such a rough pace.
akaashi always took his time with you. Going slow and easy, praising you, calling you his angel or goodgirl for taking him in so well. but now he was none of these things.this felt like a completely different person to what you were use to.
“mm’ n-no one! keiji- p-please s-slow down it hurts!!” you sobbed only making him click his tongue at you, your heart sank feeling foggy and uneasy.“you probably like that it hurts huh? you’re dripping around my fingers you filthy slut.” he never used a tone as harsh as this before. never calling you names or degrading you in general. the pain in your chest overlapping the pleasure as more tears fall.
“n-no not a s-slut!! p-please stop! it hurts please keiji please-“ you begged feeling your stomach tighten as he kept fingering you till you screamed, squirting all over the bed sheets. “dirty slut.” He pulled out abruptly from you causing you to choke out another sob. your body trembling at this point as you pant out in desperation to form words scared of what he might do next. “N-no more please I’ll be good i p-promise just please..” you begged him once again, hoping he’d notice the pain you were in...he didn’t.
“no. sluts like you don’t get to make decisions like that.” He was about to pull your shirt off until you screamed and kicked  “red! red! r-red!!” he moved away only to watch you curl in on yourself, hugging your knees for comfort, refusing to look him in the eyes. “baby..?” he said softly trying to move you to face him to his horror you flinched shrinking in on yourself.
“keiji... why were you s-so...mean to me i only wanted to make you feel good..you always make me feel good so why did you..” immediately, he scooped you into his arms rocking you back and forth as if you were a toddler. you cuddled up against his chest as he felt your tears fall on his chest.he didn’t mind of course. “shh its okay..its okay..” the voice he commonly spoke to you coming back, soft, reassuring, just how you liked it.
“baby..im sorry i.. I didn’t mean to be so mean..i just got scared you were maybe..well someone might’ve been teaching you these things..” you froze pulling away to look at him.
“w-what? I didn’t learn that from anyone..id never let anyone teach me or touch me but you keiji! i just..read some stuff about it online...and I wanted to test it out..” you admitted through sniffles still rubbing your tears away. He sighed as he hugged you again running his fingers through your hair. 
all you wanted was to please your boyfriend from just that, his heart skipped a beat at how sweet you were being, but the feeling was overshadowed by  feeling so stupid for letting his insecurities take the best of him.
“I’m sorry baby.. I promise to never speak to you like that ever again..you’re my sweet girl and I love you so so much.. you were just trying to do something nice for me..thank you i appreciate it my love..it felt really nice you did good.” He cupped your face in his hands, peppering soft kisses around your face.
he smiled as you giggled at the ticklish feeling, sighing in relief.
“ i love you, my sweetgirl. ”
Iwaizumi
- he got home pissed off since he saw you chatting and giggling with mattsun. 
- he needed to blow off some steam
- he didn’t mean to be so mean he really didn’t
-he was usually a soft dom but today..he was everything but soft to you.
“ filthy fucking whore. what were you doing talking to mattsun huh?” his thrusts were sharp, painful, not being prepped well enough by him making the stretch of his cock burn through your gummy walls. feeling the air in your lungs start to leave you slowly as tears streamed down your face at iwaizumis cold , heartless, tone. there was not a single trace of him, not a sign of his love. you weren't trying to make him jealous, you just spend sometime to get to know mattsun just a little more since he was friends with your boyfriend never expecting him to react like this. 
snapping back to your current situation, you arched your back letting out a loud cry as he slapped your puffy clit. “didn’t i ask you a fucking question? or did your dumb slutty brain already get fucked out of you huh?” he wrapped his hands around your throat thrusting harder and deeper in you. 
his tip painfully hitting your cervix with each thrust making you cry at the pain. you tried pushing him off with the little strength you had in you, sobbing out an apology making him roll his eyes. 
“tch, what? you think a little apology is gonna change the fact you were all “buddy buddy” with mattsun? did you forget who fucking owns you little slut?” landing another harsh slap at your clit causing you cry in discomfort. everything around you made you feel light as if you were gonna pass out from the cruel words iwaizumi spoke to you. feeling helpless as there was no sign of your once loving boyfriend. 
“maybe i should’ve invited him over, let him have a turn at ruining your slutty little cunt.”
Finally, having enough you cried out “r-red..” it was soft, gentle, easily could’ve been unheard if it wasn’t for how closely iwaizumi payed attention to you. he halted his thrusts pulling out of you completely, eyes draining of all lust and jealousy converting to concern mixed with regret. he rushed to put back his boxers on, cuddling you against his chest. 
you didn’t push him away, no you could never. he was the man you loved and treasured more than anything. you were hurt obviously, but still wanted to seek his comfort.
“i-i dont like m-mattsun haji..i only like you..only you..” your voice sounding broken. he let out a deep sigh pulling you closer to kiss your head. 
“i know baby i know... i was just jealous..you get along so well with mattsun i..went too far on you..i’m sorry you didn’t deserve that baby” his voice sounding faint but full of comfort.
“i just wanted to get t-to know him...i didn’t mean to make you mad haji..”
“i know baby shhh its okay now..i’m not mad anymore.”he cooed kissing you softly. you nodded letting your last set of tears fall onto his chest. 
slowly shutting your eyes and falling asleep in the warmth of his chest.
him on the other hand was completely mortified at your sobbing accompanied with your sniffles it echoed through his ears replaying like a broken record each time the memory got to you saying your safeword. 
“r-red..”
he never thought he’d reach that point for you to have to tell him that. he let out a few tears that night hating himself for hurting you. you forgave that very second he apologized but him on the other hand? he didn't..no he couldn’t.
let’s just say, he didn't get much sleep that weekend. 
akaashis is long asf (im sorry i just love him sm) and iwaiuzmis is short but i love these boys sm.  
i still am taking requests all links are above and down here. remember to drink water. oh and heres the m.sterlist  in case you missed it <3♡
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hellofeanor · 3 years
Text
Fëanorian Quenya
Hey friends! Do you like elves? Do you like the Silmarillion? Do you like Fëanor and co? And most of all, do you like spending hours thinking about minor details pertaining to made-up languages??? If so, boy do I have a treat for you! Let’s delve into the weird world of Fëanorian Quenya and explore some history and mechanics of why they talk Like That.
I’ve seen a lot of posts joking about the Fëanorian lisp, which is about as funny as a joke about a speech impediment can be. 👍 It’s important to understand, though, that this IS a joke. No, they didn’t really speak with a lisp. Yes, they did pronounce some S sounds as TH. That’s the critical disclaimer here: SOME. It’s not a blanket pronunciation. There’s a lot of background research that goes into determining which words would be pronounced with S and which would be TH, and that’s what we’re going to look at.
So if this is something you’ve come across in fandom and you’re not totally sure on the details, or if you ARE sure and just want some more in-depth info, read on.
The stuff probably everybody knows already
For anyone who’s been hanging around the Fëanorian corner of the Silm fandom for more than three minutes, there’s about a 100% chance you’ve heard of Fëanor’s penchant for retaining an archaic TH pronunciation after the majority of the Noldor went ahead and started pronouncing this sound as S instead. You may also know that this sound is represented by the letter thorn (Þ) in HoME, but since thorn doesn’t exist in modern English orthography and it’s a pain to keep typing the ALT code, I’m sticking to TH here. Anyway, all this was due to the fact that Fëanor was a huge mama’s boy, and his mom Míriel Therindë (later called Serindë, which made Fëanor want to punch walls and possibly also fellow elves) was an outlier who retained the TH after it fell out of use. Her son Fëanor, in turn, kept this up to honor her. Now, whether or not he would have bothered if this sound hadn’t literally been a critical part of her name is debatable, but that debate is outside the scope of this essay.
Fëanor continued to use the TH pronunciation until his death, and required his sons to use it as well. Finwë, however, switched over to S after the death of Míriel and before his marriage to Indis. Fëanor, reasonable and level-headed as he was, took this as a personal insult and decided that anybody who rejected TH likewise rejected him. So presumably, his loyal followers would have obeyed his totally reasonable demands not to give in to the seductive S-shift.
Why tho
Why did the Noldor decide to alter their pronunciation from TH to S? Great question. Nobody really knows. For the hell of it? IDK. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ But the important thing to understand is that elves, and especially Noldor, were really committed to making sure their language sounds cool. This is why it changed so much and so comparatively quickly for an immortal population: they were actively invested in changing it. They liked inventing new words and exploring new sounds and messing around with grammar.
So at some point some influential Noldo might have been like, hey y’all, let’s stop saying TH and say S instead! And everyone (except Míriel I guess, who was known for her elegant manner of speech and didn’t want to muck that up by changing pronunciation of a whole letter) was like, whoa, capital idea my good egg. And they went with it. Previous ideas along these lines included ‘hey y’all, let’s stop saying KH and say H instead’ and ‘hey y’all, let’s stop saying Z and say R instead’, and those went over swimmingly. Nobody could have foreseen the problem this TH to S business would cause.
Now here’s a fun fact. There was another change to Noldorin pronunciation that happened AFTER Fëanor’s birth, that he himself was involved in. This one was all about bilabial to labiodental F. And those sure are some words, so if you don’t know what I’m talking about (I don’t blame you), BILABIAL is a more whispery sound that happens when you say F using only air passing through your pursed lips, and LABIODENTAL is when you say F with your top teeth touching your bottom lip. Going forward I’m going to use PH to represent the bilabial sound, and F for the labiodental.
So F got on the radar of the Noldor via the Teleri, who used this sound in their language. And ol’ Fëanor figured it would be awesome to incorporate it into Quenya because he thought the PH sounded too close to HW, and the two were getting confused by lazy speakers. Why did he care? Because of his dad’s name and his own, of course. If people started to get lazy in their pronunciation, we’d end up with Hwinwë and Hwëanáro, which would be terrible and stupid and unacceptable. He accused the Vanyar of leaning down that road, and he wanted to stop that kind of shift before it happened to the Noldor. How to do that? Why, by instigating a different shift from traditional Noldorin PH to Telerin F!
“Hey y’all, let’s stop saying PH and say F instead!”
“Whoa, capital idea my good egg.”
Moral of the story: Fëanor is only concerned with Quenya pronunciation insofar as it affects his own name and the names of family members he likes. He does not care whether it’s staying the same or moving to a new sound so long as it personally makes him feel good and his name sound cool. Therefore the true way to piss him off would be to call him Curuhwinwë Hwëanáro, son of Serindë.
Okay so here’s how it works
Now that history is out of the way, let’s get back to how TH was used by the Fëanorians. As I mentioned earlier, TH wasn’t a blanket pronunciation. It all depended on the original form of the word, and whether the root had a TH or an S. And some very similar-sounding words come from different roots, so this can get tricky. A great resource that’ll give you this information is Eldamo: Quenya words where the S was originally TH are marked out with the Þ (thorn) symbol in the wordlist.
Some examples:
Súlë (spirit, breath) comes from the root THŪ, which means it would be pronounced with a TH. Silma (white crystal) comes from the root SIL, so it and related words like Silmaril would be pronounced with an S. No Fëanorian would say Thilmaril. Isil (moon), however, is a similar-sounding word that comes from a different root: THIL. Olos (mass of flowers) comes from the word LOTH, but: Olos (dream) comes from the root LOS. Fëanorian pronunciation would immediately differentiate between these two words.
While Fëanorians may have retained the distinct pronunciation of TH vs S, other Noldor can still differentiate between original S and S-that-used-to-be-TH in their writing. There are specific tengwar to use depending on the word’s original form. Silmë (the one that looks like a 6) is used for original S, while súlë (or thúlë, the one that looks like an h) is used for original TH.
Which other elves used this sound in their speech?
Fandom has really latched on to this TH as a Fëanorian thing, but it wasn’t that exclusively. The TH sound was actually ubiquitous in other elven languages, and in Valinor, only the Noldor dropped it. It was still used in Telerin and in Vanyarin Quendya. The Vanyar retained the TH not because of anything to do with Míriel, but just because they were a little more conservative and their language didn’t pick up on all the changes that the Noldor made. They also noped out of the Z to R shift the Noldor initiated, opting to keep the Z around.
When Indis married Finwë, she stopped using the normal Vanyarin TH and switched over to S as a gesture of loyalty to him and his people. Finarfin, however, out of love for the Vanyar and Teleri, switched BACK to TH. I like to think about how much it would have annoyed Fëanor that his snot-nosed kid brother was speaking correctly, but for the wrong reason. Go down one more generation, and Galadriel very specifically did not use TH. But this time it was absolutely a choice made as a glaring middle finger to Fëanor.
What this means for your fanfic or whatever
The big takeaway here: you can’t just have Fëanorians replace every S with TH and call it a day.
If you’re inventing names for your Fëanorian OCs or coming up with phrases for them to say, it’s important to look into the history of all Quenya S-words you end up using to determine if they should be S or TH. If Fëanor got mad about somebody saying Serindë instead of Therindë, he’d get equally mad about somebody saying Thilmaril instead of Silmaril and assume they were mocking him. Remember: this is a dude with no chill. (On the other hand, if you WANT somebody to be mocking Fëanor, Galadriel would 100% do this because she has an equally negligible amount of chill.)
It’s also important to note that the TH isn’t a true shibboleth, since pretty much all elves EXCEPT the non-Fëanorian Noldor use it. And even the S-preferring Noldor would still be able to pronounce the TH. Those who went into exile would go on to use it commonly in Sindarin, and those who remained in Valinor would still encounter it among the Vanyar and Teleri. So if you’re writing a scene where somebody has to pronounce a TH word to prove their loyalty… yeah, everyone can pass this test. And in the opposite direction, you can’t use TH to prove somebody’s an evil Fëanorian, either. They might just be Vanyarin or something. Or, like. Really Old.
Would the sons (and followers) of Fëanor keep using TH after his death? Oh hell yeah. This is an entire family unfamiliar with the concept of not dying on hills. They will keep using it unto the ending of the world. Actually, with Sindarin becoming the common language of Middle-earth from the First Age, probably not a lot of change happened in exilic Quenya. It became a lore language: a piece of living history. It would have been preserved as it was when the original speakers left Valinor.
(And then, thousands of years later, Galadriel finally returns home to Tirion like, Long have mine eyes awaited this most blissful of sights, and ne’er hath my sprit soared with such grace, for I am returned! And all the Amanyar Noldor stare at her like, whatchu bangin on bout, eh? Because they had nothing better to do in the peace of Valinor than push Quenya to brave and frankly questionable new horizons.)
Anyway, there you go: a somewhat brief history of Fëanorian Quenya. I hope you found this informative and useful, or at the very least not boring. Obvs this is super condensed and, uh, not particularly scholarly, but I promise I know what I’m talking about. I have a university degree! (Not in anything even remotely related to what’s written above, but I hardly see how that’s relevant. It’s still a DEGREE.)
Questions? Need clarification or want more info? My asks are always open!
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captain-kinda-trash · 3 years
Note
Hello love! I hope I’m one of your first asks!!! 😍
Can I order up a new love/confessing feelings with a side of fluff, a la Bayverse Donatello please?! 💜
Sure thing lovely!! Hope you enjoy!!
Truck Repairs (Bayverse! Donatello x Fem! Reader)
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"Torque wrench please."
"Got it."
The slap of cool metal against scales resounded from underneath the Turtle Truck (a name Y/N commonly used, much to her companion's distaste), as Donnie was handed yet another tool from the plastic box next to his feet.
"Thank you." He huffed out. The cranking of gears, clinking of iron echoed out from the truck.
"Sure thing, Don," The girl said, sitting cross-legged on the floor beside the turtle's legs, "How much longer do you think this should take?" Her eyes stole an extensive glance at those toned, long, delicious-looking limbs. Wait. What? That didn't come from her mind again, did it?
Of course, it did. When did it not? Donatello sighed, voice floating out from below the massive machine, and then the wheels of his skateboard rolled against the cement as he uses his feet to pull his body from underneath.
"Uh, I'm not sure. The damage inflicted on the lower regions of the compression body is pretty tremendous. It could take up a few days, weeks even, if not strategically maneuvered-" he pushed the goggles from his eyes to settle comfortably on the top of his head, revealing the glittering hue of those beautiful amber eyes, "But it seems to be going well at the moment."
His mouth cutely curled up into a smile, one that never failed to release a cocoon of uncaged butterflies in Y/N's stomach.
She grinned back, and then shyly turned to study the soles of her shoes, evidently more interesting than looking at his uncannily handsome face.
"That's good to hear. Maybe we should take a break soon. You've been working like crazy since you got back from patrol."
His smile very subtly faded at this suggestion, though he made sure that his friend didn't catch it. Donnie enjoyed this company that she provided working with him on the truck's repairs, much more than he was willing to admit. Though, yes, he could use a nice break, maybe grab a snack or glass of water, the mutant knew surely that nothing fueled his cravings like her sweet presence (incomparably rich to the taste of his beloved pop tarts).
And if the same wasn't in her book about him, then by gods...
I mean sure, he's a mutant. Gross right?
Wrong. So, so very wrong.
"Y-yeah I guess we could take a little break." He responded, then let out a sort of struggled grunt as his body lifted to sit upwards and rest his shell on the side of the garbage truck.
Y/N's eyes wandered once more at the marvelous rolling and extending of his muscles as he did so, draping a single sturdy arm across one knee and using the other to adjust his glasses. She gulped. Her gaze shamelessly traveled to the seemingly endless length of his legs, until she caught the quick movement of his head in her peripheral.
She immediately averted her stare, back down to the laces of her converse, trying to subside the heat crawling quickly over her neck.
"T-tell you what, why don't I go grab you a snack, and you stay here and see if there's anything else we can do." Y/N pushed herself up from the ground and before Donnie could respond, she had already scampered out of the workshop to avoid any further humiliation.
"O-okay!" He called after her, though the likeliness of hearing him was probably far gone since she was already in the kitchen by then.
Y/N grasped the bridge of her nose between her for dinner and thumb, letting out an exasperated sigh as the tap water still poured, pattering against the metal sink.
'He totally caught me staring,' she thought. Though her self-control was usually tempered, easily under restraint, it melted into a helpless puddle when Donatello's presence was made known around her. Hell, even passing up the open doorway of his lab as he worked was a strain, and Y/N found herself peeking in curiously as his eyes fixated carefully, passionately over a project as he worked.
It took every willful ounce in her body not to just snatch the tails of his violet bandana and yank him in for a savory kiss every time he was a few feet away from her.
Her brain, exhausted from such thoughts, tried to focus on her footfalls, the wrinkle of pop-tart wrappers, the clinking of ice against glass cups, a cool contrast against Y/N's warm arms.
She halted directly outside of the workshop, inhaled, exhaled, and then rounded the corner to see-
Nobody? Weird. Perhaps Donnie had gone to his lab to grab more tools or just put them away since the aforementioned bucket of appliances had gone missing right along with their possessor.
"Huh. Weird." Y/N thought aloud, and then after looking over her shoulder and out of the doorway, she decided that she might check out the inside of the truck. After all, it had been some time since she'd seen it and was rarely able to because of the lack of missions she joined in on.
She set the two cups of water and foil packages gently on a nearby bench, before making her way towards the rear entrance. Y/N's hands settled on the large iron handle wrapping their small extent around it and then pulled down with all of her strength.
Man, the brothers made it look so easy, and by the time the lever reached its lowest point with a loud click, she had managed to work up a bit of a sweat.
The door, a huge garage-like lift system on the back end of the truck, began to lift, creaking and groaning as it did so. Y/N smiled, eyes glancing down carefully as her feet made contact with each rising step into the truck.
However, her plan had been spoiled, if you could even call it that. Because, just as she was entering the vehicle, it seemed Donatello would be exciting. As Y/N looked up from the final footstep, and Donnie from his tech pad, their noses and mouths bumped, and all was still. Both of their bright eyes were wide with shock and unbearable mortification at the sensation of petal-soft skin against cool scales, lips awkwardly resting upon one another.
They both pulled away as fast as they had come together, though Y/N had been so caught up in her humiliation, that she forgot about the staircase behind her and lost footing. An abrupt shout escaped her lips, helplessly flailing her arms in the air to grab onto something and a strong pair of arms had quickly caught her.
When the girl hesitantly opened an eye to analyze her seemingly unfortunate position, all she was met with, was the shine of Donnie's lustrous eyes, glinting in the bright lights of the workshop. Both were heaving breaths, adrenaline rushing from the swiftness of this occurrence.
"Thanks..." Y/N managed to squeak, trying to calm the furious blush and racing tempo of her heart at the touch of Donatello's strong arms still wrapped around her, "I think I just saw my life flash before my eyes..."
At her remark, Donnie's expression seemed to relax, and he let out a little giggle of amusement. Y/N smiled softly, and then placed the tip of her finger on the bridge of his snout, accompanied with a small 'boop!' That made him laugh even more and then a snort, something he didn't seem to proud of.
"Have I ever told you how cute you are?" She asked, rather abruptly, and the blunt question caught the turtle off guard. She wanted to smack herself across the face at the spilling of her internal conflicts but figured that doing so would cause her further embarrassment. Instead, Y/N was stuck trying to interpret Donatello's dumbstruck expression.
"E-erm, uh no. No, I don't think you've told me that..." Stupid, stupid stupid! What a response! Donnie's mind quipped, Could have at least said thank you... "Y/N..."
"Yeah, Don?"
His answer was completely wordless, just boring endlessly into her sparkling eyes. Though his next move seemed to be a more suited response.
Before he could stop himself, Donnie closed the short distance between and capturing her mouth in a short kiss, tightening the strong grasp of his forearms around her waist and back.
Y/N blinked once. Twice. And nothing shifted, though seemed completely unreal, like one of the hallucinations that she'd conjured in her mind before.
But this was just so... Real. He pulled away before Y/N could fully process what was going on, leaving her mouth to chase after his momentarily.
"You're really... U-um, Y/N I think you're beautiful. And I have this strangely romantic fascination with you..." Donnie trailed off, realizing how utterly stupid he must sound, however, the girl held tightly in his arms found it extraordinarily romantic.
Her fingers danced around the back of his neck snatched the tails of his silk bandana, and then pulled him in again, this time for a lingering address on the lips, tilting her head just slightly to deepen it. Donnie let out a short squeak of surprise, that faded into a satisfied chirp, bellowing from his throat.
They broke away, heaving puffs of air, and idiot-like grins spread across their faces.
"I really like you too Donnie."
"I'm glad," he breathed, just inches away from her face, "cause now we can work together and you don't have to hide staring at my legs."
Y/N flushed immensely before swatting his chest repeatedly, trying to hide her smile at his amused laughter.
"Donatello I will take away your pop tart privileges!"
fin💜
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togetherweflyhigh · 3 years
Text
It’s Okay (drabble)
Genre: Nonidol, a/b/o, a bit of angst from reader, fluff, established relationship
Pairings: Alpha!Seokjin x Omega!gender-neutral reader
Warnings: None
W/C: 1,285
A/N: I’ve been wanting to write something small and sweet for a while now. Literally the summary popped in and said hello and demanded to be wrote. 
Summary: Seokjin comes home to you making a nest which is… unusual.
Likes, comments, and reblogs are very much encouraged! Thank you!!
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"What are you doing?" The question comes as Seokjin takes in the atmosphere of the current state of the bedroom. 
Walking through the front door things were off. The usual sweet scent of lavender and rosemary were replaced with the scent of rotten oranges. Before reaching the bedroom, all the couch pillows were gone along with the few throw blankets that were laying around. Guest bedrooms were completely scavenged of blankets and pillows. 
You have never done this. Even though you’re an omega, you never have nested before or for as long as you two have been together and that’s been a while. 
You were stacking the last of the pillows onto the bed when caught. “I…” You had no idea what you were doing either but you did know nothing was organized in the way that you wanted it and that felt frustrating just looking at it. “I don’t know.” The sudden feeling of embarrassment overcomes you as you sit in the pile. Your parents were both alphas so when you came along it was shocking when you presented as an omega.
When an alpha and another alpha have a baby, it’s rare. It’s even rarer that the baby ends up being an omega. Nonetheless, they loved you but the mindset of growing up in the shadows of alphas never left you. In a way, you felt a bit broken. You weren’t like them but you also didn’t act like an omega. 
It was common for the omega to just stay home but you didn’t want that. No, you got a few jobs in the past and were currently somehow still working at a restaurant. It was hard to get work as an omega since no one wanted to grow out of old ways. 
Seokjin comes over to sit next to you on the messy bed. “What’s wrong, my love?” A gentle hand is placed on your knee. Your scent wasn’t getting any better so something was clearly up. “Did something happen at work?” Of course, it was something at work. It was the only time the two of you were away from each other except for when Seokjin had business trips to attend. 
You knew Seokjin didn’t mind you ranting out your feelings but sometimes, like now, you just wanted to curl up in bed. “Yeah..” You speak softly, hanging your head low. You were still reeling with embarrassment from being caught attempting to build a nest. There were a few times in the past where you had wanted to build one but it just never felt right. “I kind of messed up a lot today.” The tickling heat of tears can be felt building up around your eyes and nose as you recall the events. 
It started off like any other day. The normal morning rush and, of course, the usual lunch rush but today was the busiest workday you've ever experienced. Orders were getting mixed up causing everything to become slower as you tried fixing it, a tray of drinks slipping out of your hands destroying all the glassware, even the computer system went down for a few hours making a payment with a card impossible. By far the angriest customers in one day you have ever dealt with. Sure, making a few mistakes here and there was okay but for an entire day was just too much.
“It’s okay, let's not worry about it right now.” If you weren’t speaking now then it was clear to Seokjin that you weren’t up for a recap. Instead, he stands looking at the pile of blankets and pillows. “Do you want me to help you with this?” You looked surprised at him before turning your head to the bed.  “I don’t know. I think I should put everything back.” 
“You seemed like you were on a mission before I interrupted. Why not give it a try since everything is here?” Seokjin was being so gentle and encouraging. You ponder a moment before agreeing. There was still awkwardness lingering in you. Nesting was so commonly known to be done by omegas and yet here you are attempting your first. Even when you went through heats, you never made one but the temptation was always there. 
“Want me to leave?” You didn’t want to say yes to him as he literally just got home but you also didn’t want to say no. Seokjin reaches down, petting your head. “How about I make a snack run for us?” He was trying to give you some privacy seeing how uncomfortable you were with this new action. “Can we order takeout?” 
The two of you settled on tteok-bokki and kimchi fried rice, something familiar before Seokjin is headed to the store. 
You returned to the room now alone with the mess. Seokjin would be back within forty minutes or less. It felt odd. You didn’t know what to do but at the same time, you knew exactly what to do. With some minutes going by trying to decide rather put everything back or to make an attempt. You heard Seokjin’s ‘why not’ ring through your head and decided to take on the action once again.
The pillows were laid out like a barrier on the edges of the bed with a few of the lighter blankets covering them. The bigger blankets and some smaller pillows from the couch were inside. It made the bed look like an actual nest.
Crawling over into the nest for the first time ever was the most affirming thing you’d experience as an omega. What about it was suddenly making you feel so much better and just euphoric? It was so new to you still you couldn’t put a finger on it. Curling up in the blankets, you basked in the new warm and fuzzy feeling. This was definitely something you have been missing out on.
Time seemed to fly by because Seokjin was suddenly home again and the discomfiture was threatening to start welling up again. 
You only raised up enough to peek over the edge of the fluffy walls around you when you heard the rustling of plastic and feet walking into the room. It felt like there was a hand reaching into Seokjin’s chest and just squeezing his heart as tight as possible seeing his omega in their first nest. It was by far the most endearing thing he’d ever seen you do. 
“It looks nice, may I come in?” 
Seokjin didn’t know much about the nesting process, especially how it was with you. Even be possessive over their space. Earlier, he could sense there was uneasiness about it, thus the reason he thought to go out for a bit. He was glad he did because getting to witness you like this was going to be memorable for a long time. 
“Of course!” Your voice sounded tiny and as if you were starting to destress. It brought a sense of happiness and relief that you were. 
After very carefully climbing into the nest, making sure not to knock anything out of place, he planted a kiss on your forehead before going through the two bags of snacks with you. The only time you left the nest was to eat the takeout food in the kitchen as you feared it would get on something if eaten in the newly built nest. Though, you still ate snacks in it. That night when the two of you laid down finally, you told Seokjin about what happened at work. 
“It’s okay. Mistakes happen sometimes when we least expect them. I’m sure everything will be okay.” With reassuring words, your head calms for the moment as Seokjin holds you a little tighter for the night.
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donald4spiderman · 3 years
Text
The City
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masterlist
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Summary: Reader is thinking about moving to California. Spencer’s determined to get her to stay.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader
Warnings: none
Category: Fluff (angst if you squint)
**Inspired by Ben’s poetic confession in Parks and Recreations, S3E14**
Here’s a draft i forgot to post
-
**not edited yet**
Spencer’s POV
As a profiler, I’ve mastered the observation and analysis of behavior— we all have.
Picking the minds of serial killers is second nature— so why is it so hard for me to figure out why (Y/N) is behaving so strangely?
In the recent months, her witty and charming energy has dwindled into a lethargic imitation. Whether she’d admit it or not— (Y/N) can be extremely enthusiastic about certain things— especially our job.
So, when I watch her drag her feet, inch by inch, into the BAU each morning, It’s hard to contain my concern.
I know Morgan has noticed, and I’m sure everyone else has too. They’re probably just too scared to say anything. (Y/N) doesn’t enjoy people prying into her private life, so we all stay a comfortable distance away.
I watch her a lot... more than I’d like to admit. It’s hard to be unaware of her nervous behaviors— the nail biting, hair twisting, skin picking— I practically have enough data to make a correlation graph. I can tell when she’s upset, and it’s happening more than usual.
(Y/N) has always been kind to me. Even when I was at the peak of my stammering, slicked-back hair phase, she treated me with more respect than I deserved. I can only imagine how awkward I must’ve been (or, still am), and I thank her for not belittling me.
I guess I’m validating the Benjamin Franklin Effect when I say this— but I feel like I owe it to her to ask what’s wrong. Over the years I’ve built up (arguably) the closest friendship with her, so it only makes sense for me to bite the bullet for the team.
It’s partially due to the fact that I’ve developed a slight (if not major) crush over time, but who wouldn’t? A gorgeous, intelligent, quick-witted women is kryptonite for any person. Our conversations are always stimulating, she gives the best advice, and she’s always there to comfort a team member.
So, it pains me to see her struggle through a paperwork day. I wish she would reach out to anyone for help, but it’s not in her nature.
“H-Hi.” I smile as I approach her desk. Her tired eyes look up at me, and she smiles back.
“Hey, Reid. What’s up?
I rub the back of my neck nervously. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Morgan and Emily watching me struggle to form a sentence. They giggle as they watch.
“I-I was... um. D-do you want to get coffee with m-me? Not now! I mean— after work!” Morgan stumbles out of the bullpen, barely containing his laugh. I must sound pathetic.
(Y/N) nods hesitantly, “S-sure. I don’t know why you want to get coffee with me, but I’m free.”
“Really?” My surprise shocks her. “T-that’s gr-great! I can drive you!”
She chuckled, “I think I’d rather drive us. I’m pretty sure you can’t drive a mile without hitting a curb.”
I nod fervently. “Sounds good.”
As I make my way back to my desk, I send a glare in Emily’s direction as she continues to smirk at me.
-
(Y/N) grabs an empty table in the café, and we sit down, huddling close to our warm drinks. She orders a cinnamon latte, I order a black coffee with an unhealthy amount of sugar.
I place the drinks down. “Did you know that cinnamon is shown to reduce systolic blood pressure. It’s commonly used in South Asia and works by dilating blood vessel.”
She nods, “Surprisingly, I did know that. You’re gonna have to teach me something else, Doc.” I laugh in response, enjoying the relaxation that radiates off of her.
“I feel like we don’t get to, um, t-talk as much as I would like to.” My words get caught in my throat and she gives me a lopsided smile.
“Well, we don’t exactly have the most leisurely job.” She states, sipping her drink.
I bite my lip, she looks down. I convince myself that my mind is playing tricks on me, because there’s no way (Y/N) would glance down to watch me pull my bottom lip between my teeth.
“I know... but you used to talk more.”
“I’ve been busy lately. Tired too.” She mumbles.
I mean forward slightly, my voice is a hushed whisper. “A-are you... okay?” I’m anticipating an defensive response, but all she does is sigh.
“I’m alright. I just... I’m getting tired of being here— in D.C.”
My eyes widen and my brows knit together. “W-What! Why?”
(Y/N) shrugs, “I don’t know. I just expected to feel... really, really attached to D.C when I first moved here. I love my job, and I love you guys— but nothing’s keeping me here.”
My face drops. My disappointment is adamant because she scrambles to reassure me.
“It’s not that I don’t absolutely love working with you guys. You’re my best friend, Spencer. But... I came to D.C to... I don’t know... settle down.” It comes out as more of a question rather a statement. “It’s sounds weird, right? Me, settling down?” She laughs. “I-I don’t mean a husband and a family necessarily. I moved here because I wanted to belong somewhere.”
“You don’t feel like you belong?”
“I feel... I feel like everything I have right now is temporary. It’s not the feeling I expected to have. I just want to have something permanent in my life for once.”
I remain silent, lacking the proper response.
“Please don’t tell anyone!” She pleaded.
I smile solemnly, “I won’t. I promise.”
In that moment, I make another promise. Not just to (Y/N), but to myself. I’m going to show her how many things she has here for her in D.C.
I’m going to prove how much I believe she belongs.
-
I started by bringing her coffee each morning— a cinnamon latte from the same café we went to.
The first time she seemed pleasantly surprised. I sped through the doors of the bullpen, my coat and slacks absolutely soaked due to the rainy D.C weather. She giggled at the sight of my hair plastered to my forehead. I was certain that I looked like a wet dog.
“Morning!” I greeted, placing down both cups of coffee on her desk so I could fix my hair. “I-uh-I got you coffee. A cinnamon latte, of course.”
(Y/N) smiles brightly, “You’re the best. Thanks, Reid. I definitely needed this.”
Hotch and Rossi are watching me curiously, pretending not to look up from their files. At this moment, I could care less.
“It’s n-nothing.” Suddenly I’m blushing furiously under the weight of her stare.
“Thanks, again.” She clears her throat, “Y-you’re a really good friend.”
She smiles. And I smile.
-
In the next three weeks, (Y/N) and I grow closer at a rate faster then ever. I try to do something small for her everyday. Finishing up a file for her; Bringing her coffee or water; Sitting next to her on the jet. It appears to be working— she looks much more relaxed and happy. Her sarcastic humor is back and she engages more with the team.
We’ve decided to hang out after today. I find myself enjoying every minute with her, even if all we do is talk, eat, and walk around aimlessly. I’m sure she’s tired of me, but my infatuation with her only grows.
Tonight, we’re sitting at the park, watching people on their late night jogs, dog walkers, babysitters. We finished eating Indian food at a local restaurant. Turns out we’re both regulars at the same place, it’s a shame we haven’t run into each other.
She’s sitting criss-cross on the bench, her elbow rested on top of her knee. “You know,” She starts, “D.C is pretty great. I don’t think I’ve felt this... content in a while.”
I smile, even if it’s too dark for her to see. “Th-thanks. D.C is a great place, despite averaging 39 inches of rain annually.”
She means her head back against the bench. “I still don’t know. I feel like I’m just waiting for something. I don’t even know what that something is... a sign maybe?”
“A sign?” I laugh.
“Y-yeah... a sign. I’d usually make a pros and cons list and research the differences between the two places but... this decision feels too personal to look at it as just statistics.”
In this very moment, I decide to toss all my concerns, questions, what if’s, into the wind. This is my final move; my last resort; my Hail Mary.
My hands are trembling, and it takes me seconds to force the words out of my throat.
“W-well, besides the higher cost of living and considerably gloomy weather, D.C can be a p-pretty great place to reside. It has a busy political culture and is one of the most diverse states in the country.” I pause for a little longer than necessary.
“But, besides statistics and facts, if w-we look past objectivity, to me: D.C is where my friends are, and my friends are my family. Um... I like The City because it’s home to so many great people. A-and I know it’s hard to see the good in things considering how much violence we see on a daily basis, but certain people make me believe that things aren’t all that bad.”
(Y/N)‘a listening attentively, making me even more nervous than I thought possible. “D.C— The City— is beautiful. It’s charming. It’s a warm, cinnamon latte on a rainy day, o-or a late night walk in the park. To me, it’s home.” I catch her smirking a little bit, and I can only hope that she understands what I’m trying to say.
“Plus, The City is really good at her job. The City’s an excellent profiler. But, the city’s an even better friend, and an even better person. It doesn’t hurt that The City has great hair, and gorgeous eyes, and a perfect smile. And, she does this cute thing where she twists the ends of her hair, even if I keep telling her to stop. The City’s beautiful and definitely out of my league. She probably wants nothing to with me now, but I don’t care. I really like The City. And, even if she doesn’t like me back, she should stay, because there are so many people that like and love The City. ‘Cause who wouldn’t.”
(Y/N) is full on grinning right now, and it’s hard to stay patient when so much is on the line.
“Wow.” She giggles. “You really like The City.”
I chuckled awkwardly, “Y-yeah. I really do.”
“I mean, if you think The City’s so great, maybe I should stay. Plus, I’m sure The City likes you too.”
I feign confusion, “Really? I don’t know... The City can be kind of closed off sometimes.”
“Trust me— The City definitely likes you back. And I don’t think The City appreciates you saying that about her”
“Oh really?” I gasp. “Let’s ask her.”
I turn my head around, then proceed to look back at (Y/N) in the most dramatic fashion.
“Hey.” I laugh.
“Oh, Hi Dr. Reid!” She feigns surprise to match my frivolousness.
“I don’t know if you’ve heard, b-but I really like you. And, a little birdy told me that you like me back.”
She laughs heartily, “Well, that little birdy is a pretty reliable source.”
Soon, her head is resting on my shoulder. My body’s stiff and the air is caught in my lungs, but I feel more content than I have in years. Somehow the weather is warmer, and the sun is brighter, and things just seem... better.
“This is a great city.” She mumbles, peering up at me in the most adorable fashion.
“Yeah,” I smile, “It really is.”
-
“Pawnee’s a really special town, I love living there. And, I look forward to the moments in my day where I get to hang out with the town, and talk to the town about stuff. The town has really nice blonde hair too. And, it’s read a shocking number of political biographies for a town, which I like.” - Ben Wyatt
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twistedtranslations · 3 years
Text
Cater Diamond - Full of Lies
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You can unlock this story by getting Cater’s SSR Scary dress
Big thanks to Rym and Apollo for proofreading!
Translation under the cut
Chapter 1
Main street
/Notification
Cater: Oh? A message on MagiCam? Who would've thought it was that girl! How nostalgic~ The picture those ghosts took at Ramshackle dorm made our college's Halloween event trend -> Jumping onto the bandwagon and posting a lot -> Huge success for Cay's follower-catching strat! So far it's been going well but… Mixed within the comments and DMs of my new followers are a lot of old aquaintances. Even some classmates from middle and elementary school are here.
Cater: "Hey! It's been a while! Oh, would you like to come to our college? Cay welcomes every single one of you! You can always come over to hang at NRC's Halloween event!"
Cater: And now some emoji full of feelings!  (^○^)♪ (ゝω・)☆ d(’v`*)b
Cater: Everyone is really so casual and easygoing~ Well, it's easier on me, so I'm not complaining.
???: HEY!
Cater: Where did that loud and rowdy voice come from? I've got a bad feeling about this…
Front Gate
Sebek: Humans, don't crowd around the young master! Get out! Leave!
Boy A: Hey, what are you doing, sweptback bro! Don't interfere with our Draconia Challenge.
Boy B: We're putting our lives on the line to show our bravery by uploading a picture of us touching The Malleus!
Boy A: Huh, since when did Malleus disappear?! It's that sweptback bro's fault.
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Boy B: Don't be so angry. After all the effort of having a sweptback, let's show the world a huge smile on that face!
Sebek: For humans of your social standing to use the name of the Lord of the esteemed Valley of Thorns in vain…Besides, my hair is swept back like this so I have an unobstructed view to find those like you who behave rudely towards my young master! You shall receive punishment for insulting the Draconia… no, for insulting the young master. My thunder shall shock you all to bits! HAAAAA...
Cater: Okay, stop! I'm part of the Halloween Committee. It's forbidden to fight. Why don't you try talking to this lad if something's up?
Sebek: Don't interrupt me, you frolicking human! I will shock you to bits as well!
Cater: Won't you create a scandal for the Draconia family if you were to harm an ordinary human with magic?
Sebek: W-Well… You're right. Besides, didn't you just say you were part of the Halloween committee? Both the young master and master Lilia are both performing the same duties… They ordered me to listen to the orders of the other committee members. Ok, I shall talk this out.
Cater: Even though you are crossing your arms and puffing your chest out, you are being apologetic right? Anyway, these are our college's precious guests. They have no intention to harm Malleus.
Sebek: These magic-less weaklings were making a spectacle bothering Young Master with a toy. I cannot forgive that!
Cater: Malleus is like super famous, and he's an admirable being, right? So just for this festival, it should be fine to interact with our guests as a little fanservice right?
Sebek: Stop messing around. The young master is a dreadful being who makes everyone kneel and bow down to him. AND THAT'S WHY I WILL NEVER LEAVE HIS SIDE AND PROTECT HIM ALL MY LIFE!
Cater: You're just obsessed!
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Boy A: Hey, interfering our Draconia Challenge aside, what are you two squabbling about?
Sebek: Hm? You humans are still here? I told you to leave.
Boy B: Huh? You've got some nerve, talking rudely to us like that!
Cater: Come on guys. Why don't we take some pictures together since it's finally Halloween! We, Heartslabyul are those who rise from the soil in the darkness, the underlings of the night~
Boy A: Wow! Now that you mention it, you do look real good for the camera!
Cater: Cheer up everyone and gather! Let's decide on a pose~~~ Happy Halloween~
¨*shutter noise*
Cater: (Ugh… This is exhausting)
Chapter 2
Classroom
Kalim/Cater/Lilia: *Sigh*… I'm tired….
Cater: This year's Halloween was exhausting. Mainly due to our guests being rowdy..
Kalim: It was fun entertaining the guests, but I was really troubled because Jamil got in a foul mood.
Lilia: Even we, three most gentle boys, have been worn down. The other students must be at the limits of their patience.
Everyone: *Sigh*…
Cater: Now that you say it, by chance all the members of the light music club are also part of the Halloween Committee. Let's have our usual relaxing tea time while also discussing some countermeasures.
Kalim/Lilia: Agreed~
Cater: I got this! Trey's home-made pumpkin pie! It's moderately sweet, so it's my favorite!
Kalim: I have kunafa. It's a cheesecake from the Scalding Sands. It's delicious when it's hot!
Lilia: Oho, these are all sweets befitting of Halloween. As the last one, I have prepared this. Licorice!
Cater: You're always bringing the same thing! You know me and Kalim don't like that.
Kalim: The smell makes my nose shrivel up~
Cater: But you know, since it's black, it does feel like Halloween. Oh, right, let's take a picture together. It's super charming to be in costume and have themed food.
*shutter noise*
Cater: #TheBestHalloween #SelfmadeCostume #HomemadeTreat #LightMusicClub #NRCHalloween
Kalim: The best? Didn't you say you were exhausted earlier, Cater?
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Cater: I never said it wasn't exciting and for things like SNS, isn't it better to exaggerate a bit?
Lilia: As expected of you. We live in a period where everyone is connected all around the world. It is most wonderful to spread happiness instead of complaints.
Cater: Oh. The picture I just uploaded got an amazing response! 
*notification*
Cater: Another message from that girl. Was she the kind to keep track of people's activities?
*ringing noise*
Cater: This time it's a call. (How persistent…)
Kalim: Cater, is it from one of your friends? You can pick up if you want.
Cater: Hm~… More like an acquaintance from the past? But it's alright? We're at a very important meeting, after all.
Lilia: We are only eating sweets, taking pictures and uploading them to MagiCam though…
Cater: It's the age of social media where everyone can keep in contact at their own pace, you don't have to go through the pains of having to response in real time to a phone call.
Kalim: Do you have that many people who want to get in touch with you? You're so well connected Cater~
Cater: Well, if you look the amount of aquaintances I have, that might be true? My dad's a banker. The bank he works at has branches all over the world. Therefore, whenever he transferred to a different branch, our entire family would move with him. We moved once every two years, so I kind of feel like a pro at quickly packing things?
Lilia: Commonly said, you are a family who moved a lot for the sake of the breadwinner.
Kalim: So the reason why you have so many friends is because you have travelled around the world since young.
Cater: Yeah, the girl just now said we are friends as well. Having to change schools frequently, I got to meet more people compared to someone staying at one place. From the best to the worst… a lot of people. However, they all had something in common.
Kalim/Lilia: …?
Cater: If I left there, they remained there. That's why I'd rather have a casual and happy time with everyone than to deepen a friendship. It’s like a circus troupe, you know, having fun hanging with people all over the world and then leaving. That's why MagiCam is the best! People from my school from three years ago contacted me out of the blue. My social circle is expanding as well. Cay is getting popular!
Kalim: Even if they're far away, you don't have to hold back you know? I got it! I'll lend you my magic carpet, so you can visit your friends whenever you want.
Cater:… I expected no less of you, Kalim. I'll take you up on that offer next time.
Lilia: I feel like I understand you.
Cater: Hm?
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Lilia: The relations between humans are eternal. They are things that cannot be severed. In a new place with no trace of your existence, new relations will continue to be forged. That in itself is nature. However, I think the more precious a relation is, the more lonely it becomes. Why does it feel that way? I have lived a long life but the reason is still unknown to me. But just as Cater said, there may be a perfectly logical explanation for not getting too attached to one person in particular.
Cater: Lilia, what got into you suddenly? What I wanted to say was-
*ringing noise*
Lilia: Hello, this is Lilia speaking? What business do you have?
Cater: He just casually picked up the phone during our conversation.
Lilia: Oh, Sebek. What is it? You are so loud. Right now, I am in a meeting with Cater and Kalim. WHAT?! MALLEUS?!
Kalim/Cater: ?!
Chapter 3
Hall of Mirrors
Silver: Stop pushing. It's forbidden to enter the Hall of Mirrors.
Man A: Huh, really! I came all the way to the Isle of Sages to see Malleus Draconia.
Man B: We are doing the Draconia challenge now! Why can't we enter~
Girl C: He’s inside right! An actual Draconia, the Actual Malleus!
Everyone: MALLEUS! MALLEUS! MALLEUS!
*Lightning and thunder*
Silver: It's a rare event that Master Malleus is participating in. He also agreed to interact with the guests... For it to come to this... Everyone, it’s better if you leave. You have angered master Malleus.
Man A: I paid a lot of travel expenses, did you know that? This is the price of fame.
Everyone: MALLEUS! MALLEUS! MALLEUS!
Exterior Hallway
Cater: Did the visitors who wanted that  MagiCam glory end up angering even Malleus himself?
Sebek: Yes. At first he was gentle and calmed me down when I got angry… but a fool grabbed Malleus by the horns and made fun of him by saying "Look! It's a bicycle from the olden days!"
Lilia/Cater: Gh!
Cater: I don't know if they're brave or just reckless. Were the dark clouds and thunder rampaging in the sky above the Hall of Mirrors due to Malleus' anger? You don't think he overblotted, right…?!
Lilia: Do not worry. Using that amount of magic power shall not make him overblot. He is simply irritated. Back when he was young, mountains would be destroyed by his lightning whenever he threw a tantrum.
Cater: Hahaha… that's on a totally different level. I guess it was a good idea to have Kalim fetch the professors.
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Sebek: Upperclassman Vil noticed something was up and isolated the young master. He also casted a defensive spell so the tourists wouldn't be harmed. And it seemed that Upperclassman Jade is persuading the angry young master with some unique methods... Even so, those humans who can't seem to understand the gravity of the situation keep stirring up the young master, they're uncontrollable.
Lilia: This means we must use our last resort. We must put in effort to suppress the onlookers and avoid the worst situation.
Cater: Wait a second, Lilia. I thought of something. It's not like people there dislike Malleus or anything. Despite that, it doesn't mean that they like Malleus as well... They're just interested in trends. Just like my old acquaintances.
Lilia: ?
Cater: First, I'll take a picture of Lilia, who's wearing the same clothes as Malleus!
*shutter noise*
Cater: Next we use something catered to influencers. We'll elongate Lilia's picture with a photo editing app!
*swiping on phone*
Cater: Now we just add some text to finish it up. And then upload a cropped version to MagiCam!!
*Phone SFX*
Cater: #AWildMalleusAppeared #DraconiaChallenge #UnexpectedlyAtSportsGround #NRCHalloween
*Phone SFX*
Hall of Mirrors
Man A: H-Hey. Look at the Draconia challenge tag.
Man B: It seems he's at the Sports Ground now. As expected of Malleus. He's much faster than we are!
Girl C: Okay. Everyone, let's move!
Everyone: YEAH!
Silver: What happened? Master Malleus should still be in the Hall of Mirrors.
Cater: Fu. With this, I hope the storm has passed…?
Vil: Good grief. Accidents are an unavoidable part of stage plays. Letting yourself get influenced by the guests is so amateurish. My work here is done. I will return to the dorm to straighten up my appearance.
Jade: My, that was a close call. Malleus is extremely powerful. I persuaded him to the best of my abilites, trying to get him to understand. But there was no one to turn to if it had failed. Well then, I will also return to my station. I wish everyone a wonderful Halloween.
Malleus: I caused many disturbances between different racial groups during a mere school event. I should restrain myself more…
Sebek: The young master has done nothing wrong! It was the fault of those inferior humans!
Silver: The young master told us to avoid hostility between fae and humans. Why are you getting more hostile?
Sebek: WHAT DID YOU SAY SILVER!
Lilia: Malleus. Did you forget our promise from long ago? Call for us when the tranquility in your mind is disturbed.  Even if we are not related by blood, we are still a family. Got it?
Malleus: Lilia… My apologies. To everyone.
Everyone: …
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Cater: ….Family…huh.
Flashback
Lilia: But just as Cater said, there may be a perfectly logical explanation for not getting too attached to one person in particular.
Flashback ends
Cater: (That was full of lies. For a guy who grew up and lived in the same place, he never had to deal with rebuilding relations over and over…He would never understand my worthless and meaningless feelings.)
*ringing*
Cater: Hello, Trey. What's up? Huh? Are we doing our rehearsal for our night show at the stamp rally now? And Deuce, who is also part of the Halloween Committee, was at his wit's end due to the lack of manpower. So Ace is helping him out? Darn, Ace is definitely going to extort me for a favor later!
Cater: Argh! And is Riddle on the verge of a rampage? I'll be back soon, Trey. Please calm him down! I am currently at the site of the biggest crisis yet of this Halloween Week! No, for real! I'm not lying. That's why you don't have to be so cold to me, 'kay? URGH, TREY, YOU'RE SO CRUEL!
Cater: Now that Diasomnia's turmoil has settled, let's change the mood and continue on with work. In any case, we’ll still separate after the fourth year… It would be different if I repeated a year though. Anyway, I should just enjoy the moment to my heart's content! I'll surprise everyone with this charming skeleton costume! I'll show them what I'm capable of!
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Cater: Happy Halloween!
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Text
Tequila (Bucky Barnes x Reader)
Summary: Every person has a soulmate. When your soulmate experiences pain, so do you, and any bruises, scars, or other markings that they get appear on your skin. Or, the story of how aliens attacking Las Vegas was the best thing to ever happen to you.
Notes: Hello! I already did a very similar soulmate AU for Sam Wilson (which you can read here), but I love soulmate AU’s so much that I decided to do one for Bucky, too! Hopefully, I made them different enough that they don’t seem too repetitive. Did I write this while I was supposed to be watching a documentary on Bach for music history? Maybe. But I think this was a much better use of my time. Hope you enjoy! (no y/n, no pronouns)
Warnings: canon typical violence, alien invasion, blood (not too much tho), car crash
WC: 1.9 k
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For all of your life, you couldn’t feel your left arm.
When you started to crawl, your parents noticed you only used your right arm to pull yourself forward while your left would hang limply at your side. Your parents brought you to the doctor, deeply concerned, but when she examined your arm, she found nothing wrong. No x-rays showed broken or deformed bones, and no MRI’s showed any problems in the brain. By all medical standards, you should be able to move your left arm. You just couldn’t. Everyone hoped that it would go away, but to their chagrin, it remained unmoving throughout your childhood. You obviously knew your arm was there since you could clearly see it, but you couldn’t feel the nerve endings inside it. When you poked your arm with your other finger, you felt absolutely nothing. And weirdly enough, your family said it was always cold to the touch, no matter how warm the rest of your body was.
You had a feeling that it had something to do with your soulmate, and when you reached adulthood (specifically around 24), you were almost positive that was the reason. You often woke up with random injuries that you knew you didn’t give yourself. Gunshot wounds, deep slashes, broken bones, and large bruises were commonly branded on your skin. You were positive that if your soulmate was getting shot at every other night, then they almost definitely had some sort of damage done to their arm that affected your own. But if they had had this condition since you were born, how old were they? That was always a question that kind of weirded you out. You didn’t particularly want to be “meant to be” with some wrinkly, old person! Especially if they were somehow getting themselves into this much trouble. And now that you thought about it, none of these injuries were on your (or their) left arm. How could that be if they’ve literally been hurt everywhere else on their body?
When you weren’t in and out of the hospital with randomly serious injuries, you were quite busy cooking up a storm in Turkey, Tacos, and Tequila, your restaurant in Las Vegas. You and your best friend, Nicolás, had opened it three years ago; you were the head chef and he ran the business side of things. The two of you had talked about opening a restaurant together since you were teenagers, so both of you had moved to Vegas together after college/culinary school. Together, you found that you were an unstoppable team, and within a year of opening, you were one of the most popular restaurants throughout all of Vegas! Most times, because you were so busy, your soulmate problem stayed in the back of your mind. But every once in a while, a bruise would appear on your eye or a large cut down the length of your leg, and you would be reminded again.
Nic, as you called him, already found his soulmate. Oliver had moved in with you a year ago, and joined you side by side in the kitchen. You became almost as close with him as you had with Nic. They were adorable together, and never made you feel like the third wheel. There were some times, though, where you found yourself a little bit jealous that they had found each other so quickly, and that neither of them had ever suddenly started bleeding all over a nearly complete order of mango fish tacos.
Whenever you got a little down about it, Nic would always clap you on the shoulder and say, “You’ll find them someday. And when you do, break their nose. They deserve it for the hell they’re accidentally putting you through.”
It never failed to make you laugh. You had half a mind to do just that when you met the love of your life. You just didn’t know when that would be.
On yet another hot and dry Nevada night, you were closing up at the restaurant (or morning, you supposed, since it was nearly 1 am). Nic, Oliver, and your other employees had gone home already, so it was only you that remained. You turned off the lights and locked the door. You pushed your way through the drunken crowds and tourists on the street and made your way to your car. As you were opening the door, you could hear gasps of shock coming from the crowd of people roaming the streets. You looked up and saw an eerie flash of green across the sky, and a strange-looking, portal appeared in the sky! Shrieks of fear permeated the air as grotesque, reptilian creatures began spilling from the portal.
Frantically, you flung yourself into your car and turned over the engine, hoping to escape the clutches of these aliens. Though your apartment was in the opposite direction of the portal, as per usual, there was a decent amount of traffic, so you weren’t sure how good your chances were. But you figured you’d at least be safer in your car than exposed outside of it.
You were able to pull into traffic and weave through it fairly well, making good use of the side streets that only the locals knew about. But the creatures were overtaking the city faster than you could drive. You knew you didn’t have long before they caught up with you.
Just when that thought popped into your head, a blinding flash of light appeared in your rearview mirror. A loud bang, almost like a cannon, sounded, and through your mirror, you saw a truck hurtling toward you at breakneck speed! You attempted to swerve out of the way, but the truck crashed into your car, shoving it against a street light! The driver’s side of your car crumpled against the lamppost, and the glass in your window shattered at the contact. You attempted to cover your face with your hands, but a piece of glass still managed to make a pretty deep cut above your left eye, as well as a few pieces of shrapnel sinking into your legs. The whiplash from the contact damaged your neck as well; pain spread throughout your neck and back. All you could do was sob in agony. You had never felt this much pain in your life.
Your hand was trembling as you unbuckled your seatbelt, but you found yourself unable to leave your car! The driver’s side door was crushed, the truck was smushed against your passenger door, and there was no way you would be able to climb out of the backseat, nor lift yourself out of the broken window with the injuries you sustained. You were trapped. You waited for a little bit, until some of the chaos surrounding you died down; even in your damaged state, you knew that no one would be able to hear you even if you screamed for help as loudly as you could.
You strained your ears, and were able to hear gunfire, commands being shouted, and the hissing of these reptilian creatures. Eventually, instead of the noise of a battle, you could hear voices trying to dig people out of the rubble. Somehow, they sounded familiar, but you couldn’t place how. Well, if they were rescuing people, you figured they were your only chance.
“Help,” you screamed, “I’m trapped in my car! Please help me!”
You heard footsteps sprinting in your direction and a voice call, “Don’t worry, we’ll get you out of there!”
You watched in amazement as the truck on your passenger’s side was surrounded by a glowing, red presence, and moved out of the way! It had to be the Avengers! Who else would be able to do something that crazy? You were brought out of your thoughts by your car being dragged away from the pole, making you jump. A face popped up in your shattered window. He was gorgeous; bright, blue eyes, short, chestnut hair, and a warm smile. He took hold of the broken door and wrenched it from its fastenings.
“Hi. My name is Bucky Barnes. This is Wanda Maximoff,” the man said, gesturing back to a woman wearing scarlet, “we’re going to get you out of here, okay?”
“Okay,” you replied, relieved, “thank you so much!”
He smiled again, “Oh, it’s no problem. You should probably stay there until the EMT’s get here. Moving might make your injuries even worse.”
You nodded slightly in reply, but the pull in your neck made you groan in pain.
He winced, “Try not to move that, either. You may not be bleeding there, but I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
“Okay.”
“Here, let me help you with that. I can at least stop the bleeding,” he offered, gesturing to your forehead and leg.
“Oh, thank you!” you answered.
He nodded and reached for some bandages he had in his jacket with his metal arm. His left arm. Suddenly, you noticed things you didn’t notice before. He also had a large cut above his left eye, in the same spot as your injury. It wasn’t bleeding, though, perhaps because of his enhancements. You noticed him moving his neck in a circular motion, seemingly to stretch it out. He had holes in his pants and small puncture wounds on his legs, in the same spots where glass was sticking out of you. Again, though, they were already healing. Could that be why you had never felt your arm before? Because your soulmate’s was metal? It would make complete sense.
“Are you okay?”
You didn’t even realize you had zoned out until Bucky addressed you. He was gently cleaning the wound on your forehead.
“Yes,” you whispered, fixated on the wound on his forehead.
His eyebrow raised, “Are you sure? You seem a little out of it.”
“I-I’m fine. I just noticed something kind of strange. I think the cut on your forehead matches mine.”
He touched his forehead, “Oh, yeah, I forgot about that with the adrenaline and everything. Only got it maybe 20 minutes ago.”
“That’s when my car crashed. And you’re having neck pain, like me,” you murmured, “and your arm is metal. I’ve never been able to feel my arm.”
His eyes widened, “Really? You think we’re meant to be?”
“Maybe,” you replied.
He nodded, “It seems likely. What’s your name?”
You gave him your name and he smiled again.
“I’ve been waiting for this for a century.”
You giggled softly, “I guess that explains why I’ve been experiencing this since I was born. I was afraid you’d be gross and wrinkly.”
He chuckled, “Well, hopefully you don’t think I’m either of those things.”
“Definitely not.”
The EMT’s arrived then. Bucky stepped aside and the medics removed you from your car.
As you were being loaded into the ambulance, Bucky approached you.
“How can I get in contact with you after this?”
“Just come by Turkey, Tacos, and Tequila. It’s my restaurant, I’m almost always there,” you told him.
“Okay. I’ll drop by sometime soon, when you’re better of course.”
“Looking forward to it.”
“Me too.”
As he was walking away, you couldn’t stop the grin forming on your lips. Sure, what had happened to you today was terrible. But you knew you would heal, and now, you had also finally met your soulmate. No wonder why you were randomly injured all of the time! If today was any indicator of what the rest of your relationship would look like, though, you’d probably need all of that tequila you were selling for yourself.
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genesisrose74 · 3 years
Text
Requested by @blanknamed (aka my bestie fr): hihi i saw the matchup and remembered my irl friend sent me these pictures when describing my aesthetic at one point and was wondering if i can have a matchup with someone from dsmp and dr. stone 🥺congrats on 1k too! so proud of you ❤️ you deserve this milestone!
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Arielle get over here and let me give you a virtual kiss on the forehead because you’re just the sweetest person to ever grace this earth 😚forgive me for the long wait but i had to put so much into this one because it’s for you!! thank you for always being such a ray of sunshine and for becoming one of my first ever mutuals so long ago — and as a show of my gratitude, i’ll get right into your first pairing, which is going to be with…
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I had a literal conflict over this because I think you could be compatible with more than half of the characters in dr. stone (looking at gen specifically), but UGH you and Senku would be so damn iconic together. As much as he’s not intent on becoming romantically involved with anyone, it just so happened that you both had a chance meeting together at the school library — in the modern times pre-petrification, of course. You were looking for a book on the development of radiation powered technology for a history class, and by coincidence Senku was reading the blurb of that very text when you stopped by. When you asked if he’d read it, your classmate simply shook his head and said he just knew a lot about the subject, and soon enough a conversation blossomed from that point.
Y’all talked for two hours. While standing in the same spot. TWO HOURS. And it didn’t even stop there because he realized the time and asked if you wanted to talk more over a bowl of this really good ramen he knew about close by. Senku barely even realized the implications of his offer until much later, since…
He was way too involved in your conversation to notice
He’s never had any interest like that in someone before, let alone has he ever tried asking a person out in general
Everything about you was so interesting to him that he cannot process anything else going on around him and he doesn’t know why
You just feel so different in comparison to his dynamic with anyone else that it throws him off. He’s curious as to why he straightens up when you walk in a room, why everytime you smile at his stupid dry jokes it makes him more confident, why your intrigued questions about his work give him an extra burst of adrenaline. After he comes home late, having fallen asleep in the library while you studied for a test beside him, Byakuya eventually spells it out for Senku in massive bold letters.
No, seriously, he writes it on a whiteboard with a chunky black marker.
“That’s ridiculously far-fetched,” he asserts quickly, trying to push his old man out of the room. “Since when have I ever been interested in anyone in that way?”
“Senku, you waited for her to finish her work. Without complaint.”
And he’s like: oh shit—
But knowing Senku, he still makes some futile attempts to disprove the concept that he could ever be attracted to someone in a romantic sense. Ya know, all that, “science is my only devotion” shit. It lasted for about two weeks, which was the exact amount of time that he tried avoiding you in hopes of seeing if he could in fact continue his routine without your presence next to him.
The bitch still cannot swallow his pride though, so you have to be the one to make the first move — which is about as simple as perfecting Flight of the Bumblebee on a violin. Every time you try bringing it up, it’s like Senku gets a sixth sense about it and is pulled away from you as soon as possible. At some point you just had to corner him in the school lab, hands smacking against the surface of his work table and mouth blurting it out.
“I think we should go on a date.”
He’s kinda impressed at the sheer willpower you displayed in finally getting the question into the air. And as much as he would hate to admit it, some happy nerves shot through his body when it happened. On the outside, though, he simply failed to fight a grin.
“Wanna get food with me tonight?”
And you did :D and it only went good from there. Dates at cafes with comfy chairs and pretty lighting, test runs of new experiments in the middle of the night that Senku calls you to see together, just enjoying the presence of one another in a secluded corner of the libraries you frequent. Even after the disaster that was petrification you’re both side by side, being sarcastic little shits to each other as soon as Senku frees you from the stone; doing new tests to save the world, going on picnics by the river, and constantly being of service to one another.
And then from the c!dsmp, I thought it was only fitting to match you up with…
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^^ artwork by SAD-ist on YouTube
Listen, listen: I was considering a more standard/expected approach to this matchup, like maybe c!Wilbur or c!Niki because they’ve both got some major academia vibes. Especially Niki, because damn she’d probably take you to her flower shop and make handmade bouquets for you each day. However, I just think that it would be so perfectly fitting to have you and c!Sapnap together aesthetically. He’s very emotionally driven, always doing something stupid, and he probably hasn’t read a book since L’manburg claimed to be a sovereign nation. Regardless of that fact, he could sit and watch you read a book for hours, even if you didn’t ask him to. Standard case of grounded scholar + impulsive idiot = natural soulmates.
Within the region of the SMP, I imagine you like confining yourself to the libraries filled with ancient texts on the vast history of your home — although taking a visit to Eret’s self-made museum is always a pleasure as well. Niki gets along with you easily enough that you hang out together all the time, and it’s on one such occasion in the early days of L’manburg that Sapnap encounters you for the first time.
Dream had sent him out for scouting duty (which to Sapnap translates into, ‘be annoying to everyone within the walls’), and he’d taken to the edge of the country’s small borders, lounging up high above the trees so that he could see everything below with ease. To his surprise he found you, scribbling away within a ragged old notebook underneath a tree canopy, and wearing the prettiest smile he’d ever seen exist on a person before. You were waiting for your friend to arrive, it seemed, taking the ideas in your head and putting them to paper whilst you sat patiently. He was enraptured with you right away, and as a result he took to teasingly pestering you every chance he could.
Sapnap showed up at least once a week — and when he could, more than that — to slowly learn more about you. He tried staying under the radar of Wilbur when he did, just to make sure none of his endeavors were interfered with or got back to Dream in any capacity. Initially, his presence appeared a pain in your side, but your apprehension ultimately fell at the hands of his ridiculous humor and genuine inquiries as to your likes and dislikes. You knew who he was from the get-go, but it was hard not to find delight in his visits when he made such vigorous attempts to know you.
Although you’re sure he’d already learned it somehow, you told him your name one fateful afternoon, and he’s thought about that moment every day since, marking it as the first day he truly made progress in winning you over.
“You should come up here one day so we can talk normally,” he called out on a particularly overcast fall morning. “Maybe then I can see your face up close.”
You laughed, gazing up at him from the hillside on which you reclined. “You’re ridiculous. That’s not how this relationship works.”
“Mm, relationship? Sounds like you wanna gimme a kiss more than saying anything, hu—ow!”
A pine cone had clipped him in the shoulder harmlessly, chucked with expert aim by your own hand. Despite his surprise, Sapnap couldn’t help smiling.
“If you’re working that hard to twist the narrative and get me up there, how about you just come down instead?”
Without missing a beat the next day, he scaled to the top of the nation’s wall, made his way inside (with very little consideration for his safety), and took your face in his hands.
“You want me to?”
You already knew the implications. “Yeah.”
And he kissed you, then and there. Nice job, Ari!
Navigating a full blown relationship in the conditions y’all were in was not ideal. Sapnap tried everything he could to make sure you were safe, despite his distaste for your mother country and its leaders. After that cleared, though, it was a whole lot easier to be together and figure things out. Sapnap didn’t mind you staying within the walls as much as he initially thought because it reminded him of the first time you met, and so long as he could spend time with you he loved every second. Literally ask this man to do anything with you and he’s in, no matter what it is.
The sheer spontaneous energy Sapnap has inevitably feeds into your own, so while you’re much more contained than the pyromaniac, you have some very notable moments of crazy that are simply unforgettable. It’s honestly super funny to see that infectious life invade your senses, because otherwise you’re a super logical person and love entertaining yourself with the more simplistic things.
You work a lot with Wilbur on record keeping and cartography, but something that you and Sapnap apparently have in common is archery. That pine cone throw was no fluke, and he found that out when you came to visit, a shimmering bow fastened to a stock-full quiver on your back. It’s become a pastime to both ride out into the forest with your horses and practice archery (oftentimes mounted) as a way to let out frustration. If the weather conditions are too abysmal to go and do something outdoors, though, Sapnap likes to fall asleep watching you do methodical work, most commonly with his head in your lap as a fireplace crackles nearby. He’s a huge sucker for that cozy atmosphere, even though he tries to be all tough and badass at other times.
This became a huge ramble because I just think this pairing for you works so well, but I’m praying you get the picture. Sapnap is a flirty, slightly whiny, very protective, and free spirited person whenever you’re around, and he’d do whatever he could to see that pretty smile like the first day you told him your name. He thinks the world of you, and in his eyes your intelligence goes unparalleled.
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tealquacks · 4 years
Text
They Share a Kitchen 3: Grocery Gathering
Originally posted here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24317644/chapters/58625389
@alexalexisalexej
I’m sorry this took so long, but I hope y’all enjoy!
It had been a little over a week since Remus made the croissants, and the daily routines still hadn’t quite recovered. At breakfast, Virgil showed up ten minutes later than usual, and stood nervously in the doorway, checking to make sure nobody unexpected would be in the kitchen. Roman never came to visit the kitchen, but Patton brought him meals three times a day— 9:30 am, 1:20 pm, and 5:50 pm. Virgil would occasionally join him. 
Patton and Janus still met for tea every single day, but they never stayed in the kitchen anymore. Patton would ask Janus to take walks with him. They’d stroll through Roman’s side of the imagination, then drink their tea and talk. The only reason Logan knew this was because Patton brought it up at dinner one night. Virgil left shortly after. 
The only people who remained unaffected were Remus and him. They kept to their usual schedules. Except now Logan found himself staying up late to talk to Remus while he cooked. He had yet to make paella— something about wanting to save it for a special occasion.
Every day felt like a special occasion. Logan couldn’t help but stare at the charts he had made, one pre-Remus, and one post-Remus. Color coded and organized. Pristine.
“It’s surprising,” Logan had said at breakfast that morning, eating some waffles Patton had made, “that Remus spending one day in the kitchen threw all of our schedules into chaos.”
Virgil glared at him silently. Patton stared down blankly at his waffles.
“I don’t like him,” Patton murmured.
“You seem to get along with Deceit just fine,” Virgil spat, lip twitching in silent anger. Patton sighed.
“His name is Janus, Virgil. Be polite.”
“Why should I care?”
“Because it’s rude to call him Deceit— Logan, how would you feel if we only called you Logic?”
Logan sat straight. If he said he didn’t care, that would be mostly honest. If he said he did care, that would make it seem he had some sort of emotional attachment to his name. He swallowed.
“I don’t care either way. However, Janus now seems to prefer we address him by his real name. Besides, deceit is not his only function.”
Virgil rolled his eyes, staring angrily down at his plate of waffles. That was the end of the conversation at the breakfast table. Logan ate in silence, slowly sipping water out of a glass with a lemon on the rim. 
Now, he sat at his desk. The clock said it was 2:28 pm. The kitchen would be perfectly empty, since Virgil and Patton no longer had their little talks in the kitchen. Logan didn’t know where they went, and he didn’t care to ask. Of course he worried about them, but he didn’t think where they talked mattered so much. He set down his pen, thinking of when Roman had run from the kitchen in horror, Remus doing nothing but sitting at the table.
Suddenly, someone knocked at his door. Logan stood from his comfortable office chair, and walked to the door. He adjusted his tie and smoothed his hair down before calmly opening it. That calm facade almost broke when he saw Remus on the other side, wearing a painfully bright yellow bucket hat, a fishnet shirt, and a green pair of cargo shorts. He had a bag slung over his shoulder.
“Hello, Remus.”
“You remember how you said I should make paella? Well I thought real long and hard and I thought that you could not only help me with the cooking but you could also help me with gathering the shit that goes in it! Like clams and mussels. One recipe says squid but I’ve honestly never cooked with squid and I’m not interested in fucking with that.”
Logan blinked, slowly trying to take in the information, and the sight of Remus before him. Remus never came to his room. Nobody did. It seemed like there had been an unspoken rule made, that he was never to be interrupted. Now the matter at hand.
“You want me to accompany you in collecting the ingredients?”
Remus nodded violently, causing the bright hat to flop off his head. He picked it up, and put it back on. Logan blinked.
“I’ll take that as a yes. And this involves going under the water?”
“No shit Sherlock! That’s where the mussels are! Unless you count these guns—“ Remus flexed his arms, a stunning smile on his face. Logan looked at the bag he carried, then to the yellow hat on his head.
“I think it would be best if you changed into something more… sensible.”
Remus wagged his brows, leaning up against the doorway.
“Oh don’t worry, I’m wearing a speedo under these shorts.”
“I meant the hat. It will make you very, very visible.”
“It’s okay,” Remus rebutted, “I think fish are colorblind. Maybe. Do you know?”
Logan gnawed on the inside of his lip. He didn’t know. He couldn’t say so, that would be seen as weakness. But Remus was… different, somehow, uncaring about strength and weakness. He took a slow, deep breath.
“I honestly don’t know,” Logan responded, “most fish only see two colors, but I’m unsure how many can see yellow. However, if your plans are to go underwater, it would be wise to forgo the hat.”
Remus shrugged, took off his hat, and tossed it into Logan’s room. It landed on the neat sheets of his bed.
“We won’t be in the water the whole time,” Remus said, “we still have to get other things? Like, erm, I don’t have the recipe on me but we’re almost out of apples, and honey— honey will be a bitch to get but you know what I have?”
Logan furrowed his brows, staring at the bag.
“A beekeeping suit, a smoker, and an apiary of some sort?”
“Nope! Just my morning star and overwhelming hubris!”
Logan didn't know what he’d expected. Of course Remus wouldn’t go about getting honey in any sort of logical way. 
“There are other things we will need.”
“You have a special request?”
Logan shook his head.
“I don’t. But paella requires saffron,” Logan explained. “Saffron is derived from the stigma of Crocus sativus.”
“Huh? What’s uh….” Remus trailed off, snapping his fingers a few times. “What’s the common name of that?”
“They are also known as autumn crocus, or saffron crocus. Do you know where these flowers grow?”
Remus raised his eyebrows, tapping his fingers to one another— thumb to index, thumb to middle, thumb to ring, thumb to pinkie. 
“Lemme think… I have a spice garden in my side, but I didn’t know that saffron came from a fucking flower! But I do have a bit of land I could… flowers. Goddamn! Saffron from flowers! That’s pretty cool! I have to ask— how did people think of putting it on shit?”
Logan suppressed a smile as Remus flapped one of his hands a little. It felt nice, being asked harmless questions, not being interrupted. Even then, he couldn’t help but wait for the other shoe to drop, for Remus to tell him to shut up. He took a deep breath.
“It is commonly believed that saffron originated in Greece, however most of it is grown in Iran, I believe.” He paused, giving Remus ample time to say something. Instead, Remus waved his hand at him.
“Well? Go on.” 
Logan shifted from foot to foot.
“Saffron is incredibly expensive due to the fact that one flower only produces three strands when it blooms, and the flowers only bloom for one week each year. Saffron has been used and cultivated by humans for more than three thousand and five hundred years, and has been used not only as a seasoning, but also as a dye, fragrance, and medicine.”
Remus grinned, eyebrows raised. 
“Cocaine used to be used as a medicine! Freud diagnosed it to some of his patients for depression, I think! Did you know that cocaine, like meth, can cause people to hallucinate vermin crawling under their skin? And they’ll scratch at their skins to get them out!”
“Ah, yes, delusional parasitosis, also called formication.”
“Fornication?”
Logan shook his head.
“I doubt formication and fornication could be mistaken for one another, unless ones idea of fornication is subdermal penetration.”
“Oh, talk dirty to me!” Remus cried, rolling his shoulders. Logan couldn’t stop his lips from twitching up into a small smile, but turned his expression back to a straight face as quickly as he could. 
“So what are you looking to retrieve?” Logan asked. Remus reached into one of the many pockets of his cargo shorts, and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He dramatically unfolded it.
“Apples, honey, saffron, I guess, and mussels and clams and whatever else we may find. So is that a yes?”
Logan paused for a moment. He’d been to Roman’s side of the imagination, and the land was bright and beautiful, filled with fantastical creatures and lush landscapes. However, Remus was the opposite of Roman, or at least the bits of creativity that Thomas considered unpleasant enough to purge from his consciousness. So what did that include? The horrifying, the macabre, and the explicit. Dicks, drugs, and the disturbing. None of it could hurt him. And judging by the fact Remus sought him out to come with him, he wouldn’t even be threatened. As long as he was cautious, he would remain unharmed during their journey. That was reasonable enough to assume.
 But what about the others? He would be expected back at dinner, which was at five pm. That would only give him two and a half hours with Remus, and time seemed to go much faster while around him, probably something to do with how Remus’ nature distorted reality around him, that reality including the way one would perceive time passing. Logan looked into his room. If he left the door closed, the others wouldn’t bother him. Patton would leave dinner outside of his door, he’d done it before, many times, but he wouldn’t come in. So he could miss dinner. If they asked questions, he could say he was busy. And they’d believe him.
Logan stared at the yellow bucket hat, garish and blinding on top of his sheets. He swallowed.
“Yes, I will accompany you.”
Remus flapped his hands expressively, smiling like a million and a half suns. He hopped from foot to foot, then did a little spin. 
“Fuck yeah! I’ll let you get changed, meet me in the kitchen as soon as possible! It’ll be so much fun!”
Just as Logan opened his mouth to tell Remus he would be wearing his usual clothing, Remus sprinted away. He let out a deep sigh. He wore his usual outfit— black dress pants, a black polo, indigo tie, dress shoes. Comfortable and professional. If he were to open his closet, there would be exact clones of the exact same outfit. Of course there was always the clothing he wore on Halloween, but a bulky, velveteen coat would be even less practical. The Sherlock costume would be out of the question, and he’d long since gotten rid of his onesie. 
So that left him in his typical outfit. However, the tie around his throat could possibly get caught and damaged. Logan touched his striped indigo tie, and slowly loosened it. Halfway through doing so, he realized he would look like an absolute fool without his tie. Even to Remus. Logan pulled the tie tight, so tight it almost choked him, and walked out of his room, slowly shutting the door behind him.
Logan silently crept through the hallway then down the stairs, making sure to skip the one squeaky step. If Virgil caught him with Remus, willingly spending time with him… well, he didn’t know how he would react. Virgil hated him, saw him as a nuisance, and there certainly was some history between the two of them. He had no clue what, despite the fact Virgil had once been a ‘dark’ side. 
He stepped into the kitchen. Remus sat on the table, kicking his legs back and forth. Somehow, even wearing those ridiculous clothes, he looked like he belonged in the kitchen. Logan pushed his glasses up. Remus smiled at him, hopping off of the table and grabbing his arm in a tight grip. His hands felt burning hot.
“Are you ready to go?”
Was he? If the others—
“—Yes, I am.”
Remus tugged on his arm, and they both sunk down into the white tile of the kitchen floor.
A gust of warm, sweet air hit him in the face. Logan gasped at the sensation, staggering backwards. He tripped on a stone, and landed on his ass in tall grass. All around them grew wildflowers and grass, and the clouds gently danced in the sky. The flowers swayed in the wind, blossoms of all hues growing around them. Truly, a beautiful landscape. Strange.
“Is this your side of the imagination?” Logan asked, ignoring Remus’ offered hand in favor of standing up by himself. 
“Yup! Wild and uncivilized. I had an idea for a monster— it’s an intelligent being that’s made of fungi that connects to the roots of plants, like how a brain makes neuron paths! Earth brain! We’re currently standing upon the brain of the smartest being in the imagination! Well, except for you, now that you’re here.”
Logan nervously looked down at his feet, face flushed. He really didn’t want to ask what the thing looked like, but his curiosity begged him to. His ego, meanwhile, preened at the small praise.
“Does it have a body?” Logan asked, “does it need to feed?”
“Yes to both questions!” Remus proclaimed, “The body is like. Laying down sort of? It’s like a big, smart pancake! And it eats! Don’t worry, it won’t eat us. Or any other side. Or cows since it’s lactose intolerant. But it won’t eat any sentient beings, like us sides! Except for Roman and his creations of course.”
Logan raised an eyebrow.
“Why only him?”
Remus twirled around, then pointed off into the distance. Logan looked to where he was pointing, and there in the horizon he spotted a massive palace, one he immediately recognized as belonging to Roman.. 
Remus opened his mouth, then suddenly shut it, a manic smile splitting his face. 
“Look, here comes a unicorn! Oh, you’ll love this.”
And just as Remus had said, a white stallion with a gleaming horn pranced into the field of flowers. It wandered forward, then bent down and started to graze. As it opened its mouth to take a bite, the plants suddenly burst to life, wrapping around the unicorn. It fought and kicked as the thick grass dragged it to the ground— no, into the ground, as if the prairie earth had turned into quicksand. The unicorn whinnied and thrashed, until it was pulled fully under the ground, horn disappearing in the thick foliage. 
“It absorbs its prey, like a protist.” Logan said breathlessly. If he could feel, he wouldn’t know if he felt shocked or impressed. 
“Yeah! This land, in like a mile wide stripe, is the border between my land and Roman’s. And I don’t want anything to do with his shit. So anything that comes over here gets chomped up by Bartholomew!”
“Bartholomew?” Logan asked.
Remus crouched, patting the ground. He flopped onto his front, pressing a little kiss to the earth.
“It goes by Bart for short. And don’t worry, we had a conversation and it’s fine with it/its pronouns. Anyways what should we get first?”
Logan stared at the earth, shifting from foot to foot. Thousands of questions were bubbling in his head, but Remus had brought him to gather ingredients, not to ask questions. 
“Apples,” he croaked out. Remus leapt to his feet, looking him in the eye.
“I said it won’t absorb you. It only eats Roman and Roman’s shit. And even if you did get eaten, you’d be able to sink out. You’re safe.”
Logan inhaled slowly, then let out a deep breath. He didn’t care if he was safe. He wanted to ask how Bartholomew dissolved its prey, what acid it used to break down prey, he wanted to ask about the ph of the soil—
“Let’s go get the apples,” Logan insisted.
Remus nodded.
“The orchard is like, ten miles away? I don’t know but I can teleport us. Will it make you puke? Since Jannie told me that when he and Patton were in the imagination they saw Roman and Roman teleported them away from him and then Patton puked his guts up!”
“I don’t puke,” Logan explained, “I’m not human, and I can’t pretend to be.”
“You are a part of a human. Anyways, let’s go!”
Remus grabbed his arm, and the world shifted around them, the ground fell out from under his feet— for an instant, he felt like he was flying and falling all at the same time.
Then the ground appeared again. Logan stumbled. The sun was filtered through the branches of tall trees, taller than any apple tree he’d seen. The ground felt hard, and thorny bushes grew between each massive tree. Strangely enough, even though the air felt warm, the branches had no leaves, as if winter was coming. Logan looked down at his feet. The earth was covered in a layer of frost. He crouched down and touched it, and his fingers brushed coarse weeds and warm frost.
“This is fascinating,” Logan said. He scooped a little bit of frost into his hand. It didn’t melt. 
“How so?”
“Where do I start? The trees— they’re far too tall to be apple trees, yet they still bear fruit. And they have no leaves, which raises the question of how they perform photosynthesis. Not only that but the ground is covered in frost, and the frost is warm. The frost is warm, but it also doesn’t melt in my touch. Truly fascinating.”
Remus flicked his wrist, and a red apple the size of a fist fell into his palm.
“I like the way that frost looks, but I fucking hate the cold! So I made this place! And the branches are high so I can climb them and see out above the entirety of the land! But if you take issue with the height of the trees…”
Remus took a bite of the apple. He stomped his foot. Suddenly, one of the trees shrank, smaller and smaller, until it was the size of an actual apple tree. Ripe, beautiful apples hung off the branches.
“There,” Remus said, “that should be low enough for you to reach.”
“I’m not that much shorter than you,” Logan said, “do you have something to keep the apples in?”
Remus reached into the bag, and pulled out a wicker basket. Logan almost asked how he managed to do that, but realized it would be pointless. This was Remus’ land, it ran by his rules.
“I have a question!” Remus proclaimed.
“Go ahead,” Logan said, silently glad Remus had gone back to asking questions.
“Why are you so touchy about shapeshifting? Like. You never do it. I mean when the cameras aren’t rolling. You look exactly like Thomas and you never change it up!”
Logan froze. He pulled an apple from one of the branches and set it carefully in the basket.
“Patton is emotionally unstable. Virgil is a ticking time bomb. Roman tends to prioritize fantastical ideals over reality. Janus is level headed, but Thomas only just accepted him. And I’m unsure if he’ll ever accept you.”
Remus took another big bite of the apple.
“And what does this have to do with you not shapeshifting?”
Logan sighed.
“Thomas needs someone to be steady. Someone for him to rely on and trust no matter what the situation is. I don’t want to lose his trust.”
Remus giggled. Logan picked another apple.
“He trusts Patton even when he’s a fucking puppet. It’s not about trust, is it?”
Logan set the apple down in his basket.
“How many of these do we need?”
“Fuck if I know, fill the basket. But if it’s not about trust, then what is it about?”
Logan picked an apple, staring at the deep red color. He rubbed it against his polo, and he could see his reflection.
“Thomas hasn’t been listening to me as much as he should. I’m hoping that if I maintain the same appearance as him, he’ll be more inclined to listen to what I have to say.”
Logan stared at the apple. He shouldn’t be here. If the others found out he’d spent so much time with Remus, then what would they think of him? Would they consider him a friend anymore? That plus the fact he was picking apples, something they didn’t even need to do because they could be summoned with the snap of a finger. He didn’t need to eat. Logan set the apple in his basket.
Remus hummed. He flicked his wrist again, and apples began to rain from the sky. They struck the ground hard enough to bruise, and the noise they made was thunderous.
“Do you think the apple rain helps or diminishes the experience of apple picking?”
Logan stared up at the sky— cloudy, with a chance of apples.
“I don’t think catching apples in a basket counts as picking.”
“But it does count as fun!” Remus insisted.
“It’s not very effective.”
“Really now? Watch this!”
Remus pulled another wicker basket from the bag, and held it above his head. One, two, three apples hit the basket hard. The fourth made a sickening crunch as it hit the basket, and Logan flinched.
“What was that?”
“Some of the apples have bones!”
Logan furrowed his brows, looking at Remus. Another apple fell into his basket, thankfully lacking the crunching.
“An odd feature for an apple to have. What are the purpose of the bones? Structural stability? Do the bones assist in reproduction?”
“None of that!” Remus responded, “I just like the crunch! And Jannie likes the extra calcium!”
Logan nodded. Somehow, the fact that nothing made sense was logical. This was Remus’ land, it obeyed him. He plucked another apple from the tree.
“You know, Logan,” Remus said after a moment,  basket held over his head, “I think you’re Eve.”
Logan raised his eyebrow.
“And what do you mean by that?”
Remus shrugged. Another apple landed in the basket with a crunch.
“Well, you see, Eve ate the apple from the forbidden tree, because she wanted to know the difference between good and evil, she wanted to see like god. In all honesty, I don’t think she was tricked. She knew what she wanted. She knew what she was getting into. She was just scared to be held liable. She was scared of the judgement.”
Logan plucked another apple from the tree. He had to stand on his toes to reach it. What Remus was saying made no sense. If God had dropped him in the garden and told him to not eat the apple, he would’ve followed the rules. And he certainly feared no judgement. Certainly.
“I don’t think so.”
“You don’t? So you would have rather stayed ignorant? Unharmed by what you don’t know?”
Logan froze. Remus continued talking.
“I remember Janus told me you really went off at him when he suggested that ignorance is bliss. So, I think you’re just like Eve. I mean, would you give up peace for knowledge?”
Logan plucked another apple. Of course he would. What he wanted more than anything was a life full of books and reading, knowing everything there was to know. Being an academic.
“That isn’t my choice to make. Thomas has chosen his path in life.”
“But what if it was your choice? Then what would you do?”
Logan picked another apple. The basket was close to full.
“I would choose knowledge. I have told you what I would do as a human, I would pursue knowledge above all. I wouldn’t be able to stop my pursuit. I would never be satisfied.”
Remus snapped his fingers, and the apple rain stopped as suddenly as it started.
“Wisdom cries out in the street; in the squares she raises her voice. Proverbs 1, verse 20.  You’d never be able to stop learning once you started. Which I think is pretty cool!” Remus looked him dead in the eye, lowering his basket from his head. “You’re a passionate guy, Lo. Show it. I liked hearing you talk about saffron. And if they won’t listen? Then—“
“Then make them listen. Yes. You said it before.” Logan sighed. “I must admit, I don’t think I would be able to. Once they see me as a joke, it’s over. I’m only listened to when I’m being used to counter something that inhibits Virgil and Patton. For example, when you and Janus first appeared. I… I think we have enough apples.”
Remus took his basket, full of apples, and shoved it into the bag. Logan gave him his basket, and watched Remus make it disappear.
“If they won’t listen to you just because they see you act improperly, because they see you smile and feel happy, then they’re a bunch of hypocrites that I want to punt into the fucking sun.”
Logan took a deep breath in. A tiny little voice inside of him screamed to lash out, punch a tree in anger and frustration and pain, but that would be illogical. The apples had been picked. That was all. Now saffron, or honey, or whatever Remus would drag him to next. Then he’d be back in his room, asleep in his chair, then in the morning—
“I honestly don’t know why you care so much,” Remus said.
Logan exhaled.
“They’re all I have.”
Remus set a hand on his shoulder.
“Well, you’re have me now, too. Let’s go get the saffron!”
The earth suddenly fell out from under his feet. Logan couldn’t help the surprised yelp that escaped his mouth, hand flying out to grab Remus’ arm. Then as quickly as it disappeared, the earth came back, and his feet hit the ground. He yanked his hand away from Remus, brushing invisible dust off of the front of his shirt. 
They had appeared in a desert. The sun beat down bright and strong, no clouds in the sky to inhibit it. His feet sank into the sand. A harsh wind kicked up the sand, and it flew around in a flurry like a blizzard. Logan gazed at the horizon. Nothing for miles and miles, just sand, low and level.
“Is this where you find saffron?” Logan asked. Remus crossed his arms.
“You should know better than anyone that flowers can’t grow in a desert! And besides, I just found out saffron came from flowers. So I have to grow them!”
Logan raised an eyebrow.
“Why bring us to a desert then?”
Remus smiled.
“Oh, you’ll see.”
Remus turned away from him. He raised his hands out, like he was conducting a band. He slowly breathed in. Logan felt the sand under his feet shift, pull together, and shake. Logan’s eyes went wide.
“What’re you—“
Remus turned back to Logan, eyes filled with fire.
“What is the best condition for crocuses, Logan?”
Logan swallowed, mouth suddenly dry.
“Saffron crocuses bloom in early to mid fall, and prefer sandy loam and lots of sunshine. They prefer soil with good drainage, as well as a pH range of 6.0 to 7.0. Crocus grow best in hardiness zones 5 through 8, not too hot, but not too cold either.”
A cool, fall breeze ruffled Remus’ hair and the fishnet shirt he wore. Logan raised an eyebrow. He couldn’t tell the temperature, but it certainly had gotten cooler.
“What is sandy loam?” Remus asked, knocking Logan’s train of thought off the tracks.
Logan paused for a moment. Remus really wanted to know. But why? The imagination didn’t follow the laws of physics or nature, why would he want to know? He said he liked hearing him talk. But did he?
“Sandy loam is soil that, while containing silt and clay, has primarily sand in it. It is a good soil for gardening because of its draining abilities… Does it matter?”
Remus tilted his head.
“Well, if you were to be making a big ol’ crocus field, you’d care about the soil! Everything about it! So since it matters to you…”
Remus smiled brightly, and grabbed Logan’s arm, tugging him. Logan let himself be pulled, finding himself right in front of Remus, stumbling as the ground shifted under his feet. Bright sand melded together and changed, turning into dark, rich earth. Logan knelt, scooping a little bit into his hand. Sandy loam. 
The soil in his hand moved, like a miniature earthquake. A small, green sprout rose from the dirt, reaching towards the sun. Delicate green leaves grew, and so did a small, purple bud. It opened. Vibrant amethyst petals showed themselves to him, but so did three red stigma. Saffron.
“My god,” Logan said, “that was amazing!”
Remus snorted out a laugh.
“What, you've never seen Roman do something like that?”
Logan shook his head. Roman preferred to run his side of the imagination like an actual human kingdom, planting saplings and waiting patiently for them to grow. Sometimes, he’d see Roman in the wheat fields, harvesting wheat with a large iron scythe, just how a human would do. He let everything take its time, and grow at its own pace. 
“Really?” Remus crowed. “Well then— watch this!”
Remus cackled, and snapped his fingers.
The ground shifted under Logan’s knees, and hundreds of little green sprouts poked out from the dark earth, basking in the gentle sunlight. Glorious purple buds opened to reveal perfect crocuses, each with three sprigs of saffron inside. Logan gazed out to the horizon. The desert had turned to a field of purple, as grand and never ending as a sunset.
Logan’s jaw dropped open in shock. For miles and miles, nothing but crocus…
“Amazing,” Logan whispered, “absolutely amazing.”
With a thud, Remus sat down next to him. He leaned forward, and tore one of the crocuses from the ground, holding it up to Logan. Then, the petals shuddered, as if blown by an invisible wind, merging and shifting until they had formed a purple frog.
“Look,” Remus exclaimed, “it’s a croak-us!”
Logan couldn’t help but snort with laughter, covering his mouth quickly. His eyes went wide. Remus didn’t seem to have any intention of poking fun at him for laughing, but it was better safe than sorry. Though he couldn’t help but think of Remus, sat at the kitchen table in nothing but an apron, saying that he’d beaten him fair and square, and could do so again. Logan lowered his hand from his mouth, chuckling quietly. It was a pretty funny pun.
"Yes," Logan opened his mouth, closed it, then exhaled. "'It's quite ribbit-ing." 
Logan looked up, meeting Remus’ eyes. There was no judgement, no smugness. Remus looked absolutely fucking delighted, a manic glint in his eyes.
"You've toad the line!” Remus cackled. Logan laughed quietly, staring right at the little frog in the flower, trying to think of another frog pun. His brows furrowed in thought. 
"Did you know that in South America, there's a species of big frog with enough poison to kill two thousand men?” Remus said, interrupting Logan’s train of a thought. 
"I don't believe that's true. The golden dart frog grows only up to five millimeters, as opposed to the goliath frog, which can grow up to three-hundred and twenty, and weigh just over four pounds."
“Damn, you know a lot about frogs,” Remus said, “it’s pretty cool!”
“I researched them extensively after Patton turned into one, just in case another problem arose.” 
They stared at each other, much too long to be considered normal. Remus's lips twitched. The silence grated on Logan’s nerves. Had he said something wrong? 
“Would you like to play a word association game?” Logan nervously asked.
"Part two: Electric Boogaloo!" Remus exclaimed, startling the croak-us enough to hop into the fields of its former kin.
He brought his hand down onto Logan's in a low five, purple petals smeared onto his palm. Remus was still grinning, parts of his moustache standing on end, like he'd been shocked. Electric Boogaloo. Remus sat, cross-legged in the new soil so they were face to face. Logan brushed against him, and felt the burn of a spark go out on his leg. Electric Boogaloo, again.
"Vampire,” Remus said.
Logan’s mind jumped to when Virgil had dressed as a vampire for halloween.
"Halloween."
“Black?”
"Orange."
"Bok choy!” Remus chirped.
Logan paused. What led to that connection? Remus shrugged.
"Plant,” Logan said, brushing off his previous confusion.
"Maple.”
"Canada.”
"Pancakes."
"Syrup."
"HONEY!"
Remus snapped, loud as a cracking whip. Logan watched him shake a freshly printed page he clutched in his hand, peering at it intensely. 
“It says on our list that we need honey!”
Logan looked back out at the field of crocuses. Every single one of them had three sprigs of saffron inside, red and beautiful. He could smell it, the aroma beautiful and heavy. 
“We have to harvest the saffron first, for the paella. How much will we need for the recipe, Remus?”
Remus sighed.
“Harvesting saffron ourselves sounds like a big waste of time. Don’t you think?”
Logan brushed his fingers on the warm, rich soil. He imagined Remus and him in the field of saffron, carefully plucking saffron from the flowers, putting the delicate threads in jars to be dried later. Then he could ask all the questions in the world about the soil, the saffron. He could spend hours talking to Remus about everything he wanted to. He wanted to say so much. And yet his mouth wouldn’t obey him. Remus wouldn’t tell him to shut up, so what was stopping him? Nothing was stopping him.
“Yes,” Logan said, “it would take up a good deal of time. But honey won’t take that long, will it?”
“I don’t even need honey,” Remus admitted, “I just wanted an excuse to spend time with you without any of the others popping in or having to wait until like five am. You’re the functional one, you gotta get some sleep.”
Logan’s eyebrows shot up. Oh. Remus’ words slowly went through his head. His heart did a backflip— even though that certainly was anatomically impossible— and his lungs stopped taking in air.
“Yeah,” Logan said, voice quiet, “I do. I mean— uh. Spending time with you is much better than laying unconscious for eight hours.”
“As if you get eight hours of sleep,” Remus said, a bright smile plastered on his face.
“So. We don’t need honey?”
“We still need mussels.”
“Mussels, yeah,” Logan said, breathless, standing up, “lead the way.”
“What about the saffron?” Remus said, raising an eyebrow. He stood.
“...Well. We can always come back for that some other time.”
Remus nodded, a bright smile plastered on his face.
“Yeah, some other time. Well then. Off we go!”
Remus grabbed Logan’s arm, and the world fell away from them. Logan closed his eyes. 
Waves crashed gently. He could hear them, and feel a cold sea breeze blow on his skin, ruffling his hair. He slowly opened his eyes. Apparently, night had fallen while his eyes were shut, and moonlight bathed everything in a pearly pale light. The air smelled like salt. Both of his feet were solidly on a wooden dock. Remus’ hand still felt warm on his arm.
“How long did that take?” Logan asked. The sun had still been up when they left.
“It’s always night here,” Remus explained, shifting his weight from foot to foot, “I like it better that way. Look at the beach and you’ll see why.”
Logan turned his head. The moon shone gently on the black sand beach, but more impressive were the waves— each foaming, rushing wave carried with it an ethereal teal glow, like all the stars in the sky were gently ebbing with every wave. Logan stared at the water, eyes wide. 
“The waves glow like that because of an algal bloom, right? And when the water moves it causes the algae to glow. It is absolutely wonderful, Remus.”
Remus smiled, running his hand through his hair, almost as if he was shy.
“Thanks, this place is one of the first places I’ve ever made, and the first one I felt satisfied with. The rest of this place I like to keep constantly changing, but not here.”
Remus walked to the end of the dock. He calmly set his bag down, then yanked off his fishnet top, holding it in his hand. Logan watched his hands undo the button of his shorts, then watched Remus toss his shorts onto the dock, revealing the bright green speedo he wore, leaving nothing up to the imagination. Remus raised his arms out like Christ on the cross, looking up at the full moon. Then he tilted backwards, gracefully falling off the dock, and landing in the water with a loud splash.
Logan slowly walked to the end of the dock. He knelt, knees pressed against wet wood. Even through the glowing waves and the dark water he could see Remus’ back, his legs, pale skin disappearing quickly underwater. 
Logan’s hands clasped the indigo fabric of his tie. Then they drifted down. He sat down, cross legged, staring down at the water. Slowly, he took one shoe off, setting it carefully behind him. Then the other. He pulled off his socks and placed them in his shoes. Then his pants, leaving him in boxers, his shirt, and his tie. He took off his glasses.
His hands clasped his tie again. He gazed at the water, dark as the night around him except for the beautiful waves and the occasional glimpse of Remus’ skin. Then he raised his head, staring out into the distance. He could see for miles. Empty, dark ocean, with no land in sight. Slowly, he loosened the knot. His hands shook. 
Remus wouldn’t care. He wouldn’t care if he took off his tie. He wouldn’t see him as less. He would see him as Logic, as Logan. Nothing less. 
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath of cold, salty air. pulled off his tie, setting it with the rest of his clothing. Before he could lose his nerve he yanked his shirt off, threw it haphazardly in the pile of clothing, and ran to the end of the dock. He jumped. Time seemed to slow as he rushed through the air, flying to the water—
He landed with a loud, graceless splash. The water around him lit up like fireworks. Surprisingly, the water felt warm compared to the bite of the wind. Logan couldn’t tell where Remus was, he just knew he was underwater with him now. Logan kicked and paddled until he reached the surface, gasping for breath. A sharp laugh escaped him. His heart pounded in his chest— he could feel it beating, even though he knew he didn’t need one to function. The waves rushed over him, bright as all the stars. 
Logan treaded water in place, then let himself tilt back, until he floated on his back. Waves gently rocked him, and he let them. What had he been so scared of? He laughed again, much quieter, listening to the waves rush to shore. 
Next to him, he heard Remus surface, taking a deep breath.
“You good?” Remus asked. Logan turned his head a little, looking at Remus. His hair was soaked, plastered to his forehead.
“Perfectly fine,” Logan responded, “and you?”
Remus didn’t answer, just smiled and sunk into the water. The wind blew cold over his skin, sending a shudder up his spine. Remus had to be swimming under him, collecting the mussels he’d use for the paella. Logan couldn’t help but wait for the time they’d be able to spend in the kitchen, knees bumping, or the time they’d spend collecting saffron, the sun shining on violet flowers in a golden gleam. 
Logan breathed out slowly. There was something with Remus that made all his thoughts become portraits. Cohesive, yes, but coated in a loveliness that never used to be there. It might have to do with the imagination. It might not. 
The waves beneath him swelled, then gently ebbed out. Remus surfaced again, treading water as easily as breathing. He’d changed his fishnet top into a net, which was full of mussels and what looked like clams, maybe? Logan couldn’t tell. 
Remus gingerly grabbed Logan’s arm. The waves under them swelled. 
“Let’s go back up onto the dock,” Remus whispered.
Logan nodded. Within the blink of the eye, they both appeared on the dock, both of them soaking wet. Remus shook his head like a dog, water flying everywhere. Logan raised his hand to keep the water from hitting him, even though he was already absolutely soaked. Remus set the bag of shellfish on the dock with a clatter. 
He calmly took one out of the net, and Logan realized they were oysters, not clams. Remus grabbed his bag, unzipping one of the pockets and pulling out a knife. He held the oyster carefully, curved side flat against his palm, and wiggled his knife into the hinge between the shells. Remus’ hands were surprisingly steady, even as the knife slipped between the shells and the oyster popped open. He scraped the knife against the inside of the shell, freeing up the meat, then knocked the oyster back like a shot.
Silently, he offered Logan the knife. Their fingers brushed as Logan took the hilt of the knife, grabbing an oyster from the net. He mimicked Remus’ movements, trying to slip the knife between the two shells. Remus chuckled, and grabbed the hand that held the knife. 
“You have to press harder,” he said, “you can’t finesse your way into the shell, you have to put some oomf behind it. If you don’t, it’ll never ever open up.”
Logan swallowed. He felt oddly lightheaded as Remus guided the knife between the shells of the oyster, helping him push the knife into the space between the shell, easing the hinges apart with the flat of the blade. The shell slipped into the cup of his fingers, just so, supported by the weight of Remus's hands over his, thumb pushing against his, twisting the hinge open with a pop.
"See?" Remus was grinning, that ever-present expression of glee, and Logan tore his eyes from it to the movement of hands again, guiding the knife under the oyster to lift the flat shell off. 
"These would be good for the garden," Logan blurted out. Remus looked up, just as attentive as he'd always been, and the words caught in his throat for a second. "For- for the soil, oyster shells, when ground into powder, have been shown to improve soil pH and nutrient status, strengthening cell walls due to an increase in calcium, overall resulting in healthier produce.”
Remus tilted his head. Logan’s face flushed.
“...I know you employ an extraordinary method of growing and cultivating, and therefore have no need for this knowledge, but tossing them aside or simply letting them disappear seemed.. unnecessary."
"I think you need to stop worrying about what I need to know, and start asking what else I'd want to hear,” Remus said with a grin, “But it is flattering that you think it's extraordinary. Now why don’t you try the oyster?”
Logan stared at the meat of the oyster.
“I just… drink it?”
“Like a shot, yeah.”
Logan slowly brought the oyster to his mouth. Slowly, he tilted his head back, opening his mouth.
The taste made his eyes go wide. The meat of the oyster was plump against his tongue, but it tasted like coppery brine. He swallowed it without chewing, since he hadn’t noticed Remus’ jaw moving. The coppery taste lingered on his tongue. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath of fresh, ocean air.
“Why don’t you stay here?” Remus suddenly asked. Logan’s eyes shot wide open. He had another oyster in his hands, wriggling his knife between the shells.
“I’m sorry, what?”
Remus looked down at the oyster, face surprisingly blank and unreadable.
“You spend all day in your room except for when you come out and cook with me. I have a feeling that I almost wasn’t able to get you out of your room today. So why don’t you just stay here? I can make you a castle or a cottage for you to study in, and you won’t have to worry about the others bothering you. And you’ll be able to come here whenever you want. So what do you say. Will you stay?”
Logan stared down at his hands. He could. He could say yes, and watch Remus make him a place to stay, a place that was truly his. No worries of anyone walking in and seeing him disheveled, just himself and Remus.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t say yes. I’m needed with the rest of the sides, and Virgil may see my leaving as betrayal, or a sign of untrustworthiness. I need to keep them on my side. I need them to trust me, to listen to me.”
Remus still was fixated on the oyster. The knife slipped between the two shells, and it popped open. Remus’ brows rose.
“I still think you’d enjoy it here more than you would crammed in your little room all the time. And I don’t know how to tell you in a way that’ll make you listen, but they need you more than you think they do. You are all of Thomas’ cleverness and wit. Where would he be without you? Creativity is nothing without knowledge— whether its working with or against knowledge.”
Logan shook his head. Remus slowly reached for Logan’s hand. Logan let him take it, pull his fingers open, and press something into his palm. It felt like a pebble. Logan felt his hands ball into fists.
“Roman seems to mostly work against me, but at least Thomas heeds his words. I really can’t stay here. I…. I should honestly go. It’s late.”
Logan awkwardly stood, fists still clenched. Remus looked up at him with wide eyes, brows furrowed.
“Are you sure?”
Logan opened his mouth, but no words came out. A part of him still wanted to stay, to sit with Remus at the dock and watch the glowing waves, to eat oysters with him. He closed his mouth and nodded. Remus sighed.
“Alright. I’ll teleport you and your clothes back to your room. Just… you’re welcome back whenever you want. Don’t be a stranger, Logan.”
Logan smiled. He wanted to say something, but the next thing he knew the world vanished around him. Then it reappeared, and he saw the door to his room. There was a bowl of spaghetti in front of it. It had long grown cold, but Logan picked it up anyways, and stepped into his room.
He set the bowl of spaghetti on his desk, and haphazardly tossed his clothes on the floor. He felt soaked to the bone, and started to shiver a little, even though he knew he couldn’t feel cold, couldn’t feel pain, couldn’t feel the cocktail of conflicting emotions inside of him. With a sigh, he sat in his office chair. His hands, still curled into fists, shook slightly. What had Remus given him? Slowly, he relaxed his fingers. 
Resting in his palm was a round, black pearl. 
Logan stared at the black pearl in his palm. A million different thoughts rushed through his head, most of them strange and illogical. He could go back to the pier and watch the luminescent waves, or help Remus grind the oyster shells down into fertilizer. And they would eat oysters together until they had enough pearls to make a necklace, a necklace he’d wear wherever he went.
Then what? 
Then Logan would wear the necklace, and someone would ask where he got it from.
This was for the best for Thomas’ stability. It had to be.
Logan let his head flop against the headrest of his office chair, and shut his eyes, hoping sleep would take him.
He never let go of the pearl.
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lady-literature · 3 years
Text
I rewrite Sky High
okay so, disclaimer: sky high was actually pretty damn good for it’s time and a lot of the plot twists/tropes used in it were still just starting out and not as commonplace as they are today. so 10/10 really good movie.
Also as i was writing this, it turned into half analysis of what’s already in the movie and half things I would change about the movie so,,, yeah. enjoy!
***
So the point about Sky High is that and the way the school and hero society as a whole works, is that you, as the audience, are supposed to look at it and know that it’s a flawed system. We’re supposed to see it as an injustice that kids are sorted into hero or sidekick- Sorry, I mean ‘Hero Support,’ on your first day of school based on something you can’t even control.
(This movie was my hero academia-ing it up before it was cool.)
Anyway, the movie calls a lot of attention to it in the beginning, but then doesn't actually give it the resolution it deserves in the end. Which, not cool guys.
The Hero/Sidekick debacle is, on the whole, a very thinly veiled metaphor for the problems minorities face. Specifically, those of the alphabet mafia, or LGBTQ, as we’re more commonly known.
There are a lot of examples for this so I’ll speed through the big ones real quick:
Will’s nerves regarding not having attraction to girls superpowers?
The way he tries to fake having an attraction to girls superpowers to get approval from his dad?
Being literally outed in front of his whole class (by someone named Boomer no less) and then immediately trying to hide it from his parents as long as possible?
The constant references to being a ‘late bloomer’. Doesn’t it remind you of the common phrases: ‘it’s just a phase’ or ‘don’t worry. You’ll start liking [opposite gender] eventually.’ ?
The scene in the kitchen, right after Will introduces the Sidekick Squad (and yes, that is what I’ll be referring to them as for the rest of this essay tumblr post). Will is so obviously trying to gauge how his dad is going to take his friends being sidekicks and also him being a sidekick. I just, this is so blatantly a coming out scene? How does anybody not see it as that?
(also the dad talking so offhandedly about bigotry and the hatred his own father had for sidekicks??? Who else has been there?)
Will telling his dad that he doesn’t care, that he’s proud of being gay to be a sidekick is just,,, *chef’s kiss*
With all of this backing behind Will and him growing into not being ashamed of his lack of powers, My first change would be that Will does not, in fact receive his father’s super strength. It’s just such a cop out! The movie had all this amazing build up, and this brilliant metaphor it could have used and, instead, they threw it all away.
The sudden acquisition of powers and immediate acceptance by his peers, feels too close to someone being ‘fixed’. That Will wasn’t good enough the way he was and had to be better, had to be his father in order to be good enough.
So, no. Will remains powerless.
Instead of the revelation of ‘he’s strong’, we get to let the Sidekick Squad shine.
Lash and Speed still cause a fight between Warren and Will, but when Will is under the table, the sidekicks actually do something.
Will knocks the table over (not, like, lifting Warren up but something closer to pushing him off. I mean, even I could push upwards from underneath a table fast enough that if someone is standing on it, they’d lose their balance and fall to the ground) and that starts things.
The Sidekick Squad all grab forgotten lunch trays or cartons of milk or something and throw it at Warren. It isn’t long then that the whole scene devolves into a food fight (Zach, at least, does not have good aim and probably hits a bystander accidentally, drawing more people in, until the whole cafeteria is involved.) The fight turns into something more playful, but still with that bit of an undertone of trying to actually hurt each other.
Ethan melts at one point and (accidentally) causes Warren to slip and land on his back, Magenta probably punches someone (not Warren) and Zach is just mouthing off to anybody who gets close enough. Near the end, right before Principal Powers shows up, Layla finally gets the right idea and just fire extinguishes the shit out of Warren.
(Side note here: I am very much also nixing the Layla crushes on Will plotline. I love best friends to lovers just as much as the next person but… no. Let kids see boy/girl friendships! 
Instead, I will be inserting a Layla/Warren love story and you can consider this the first scene on the road for that.)
Anyway, the whole Sidekick Squad plus Warren ends up in the detention room and all of them are covered in food. Right after Principal Powers leaves, the Sidekick Squad is immediately talking excitedly to each other about how cool they just were and what they did. Basically it’s very wholesome and they’re all hyping each other up and then one of them, Layla or Will, excitedly turns to Warren and goes, ‘and that thing you did with the fireballs? God! I don’t think Lash is going to have any eyebrows for a month’ and the tension between them all but drops.
Warren, of course, tries to push them away and not get involved with their ridiculousness, but the Sidekick Squad is stubborn and by the end of detention, everyone but Warren is in agreement that he’s a part of the Squad now. They will not leave him alone. They also start hanging out at the Paper Lantern all the time just to annoy/make fun of him in that loving way friends do.
(I just want Warren to be a part of the Squad guys. Will calls him his best friend at the end but what did the movie actually do to show they were friends? Nothing, that’s what. I want that fixed.)
So the cafeteria fight boosts the whole Squad’s reputation, right? People think those sidekicks are pretty cool, and they get their fifteen minutes of fame. Only… Will gets a little hooked on the feeling of being popular. He doesn’t want to be a capital-h Hero or anything! But, well… he’d be lying if he didn’t like people thinking he was cool.
The others don’t really care all that much about being cool, but Will does. He hates that he does but what is he supposed to do? He can’t change how he feels. So he starts trying to make himself more popular and sometimes tries dragging his friends into stupid schemes.
And then enter stage right, one Gwen Grayson.
I prefer Gwen being Royal Pain’s daughter, actually. A girl who would’ve had no stock in this fight but her mother, who is sickly and weak and survives mostly because her daughter takes care of her, practically brainwashes Gwen to do her bidding.
Gwen is a minion here, and also, perhaps, a victim.
At first, she follows her mom’s orders and charms Will into dating her. She also feeds into his desire to gain popularity but can’t, in this world, break him from his friends. Actually, Will brings Gwen along to the Sidekick Squad hangouts and, slowly, she becomes a part of the group too.
She starts to doubt her mother. Starts to care for Will and the Squad.
She throws the party, and the Squad is all invited (trying to break them up isn’t conducive to the Plan her mother has anyway and wouldn’t work besides) but she lures Will away to make out and… other things, and he brings her to the Sanctum for privacy just like before. She still steals the pacifier (or whatever death ray equivalent you want idk) but she and Will don’t break up at the end of the night.
It’s not actually until two days later, right before the dance is going to start, does Gwen decide she can’t stand back and let this happen anymore. She spills the whole plot and her betrayal to Will when he comes to pick her up for the dance. She’s crying and apologizing and basically expecting to be hated forever by the only people she thinks ever actually liked her.
And, well. Will is furious at her for lying but there’s more important things to deal with at the moment. They’ll talk more about this and he’ll be angry, but that’s all going to be later. Right now they have a school to save so he grabs her hand and starts running to warn the rest of their friends.
Things happen mostly as canon from that point with minor changes.
It’s Warren who pulls Layla into a kiss before they all split off into groups, telling her to kick ass and stay safe before sprinting off after Speed. There have been scenes throughout the movie where the two are very obviously getting closer and are into each other. And then, before the dance, while Gwen and Will we’re technically going as a couple, the whole Squad was going as a group.
When Warren and Layla saw each other all dolled up, it’s very cliché. Warren says she looks nice and Layla visibly gulps at his outfit of a button down and suit pants, sleeves rolled up to his elbows (because homeboy does not wear a full tux you can fight me on this).
And also, Will doesn’t fight Royal Pain by himself. Instead, Gwen is there with him and they don’t fight with super strength. Gwen’s been helping Will build an arsenal of gadgets a la Batman and the two face off against her mom together, Gwen with her powers, and Will acting as half support and half as a watered-down Batman who still needs some more training before he’s totally polished.
The school falls from the sky, but Gwen buys them time by keeping the anti gravs working through sheer force of will, while Will holds off her mom from attacking her while she’s vulnerable and concentrating. Magenta eventually kills the EMP or whatever it was, and the day is saved.
Gwen passes out, cause ~drama~ but she ends up okay so don’t worry. She’s just exhausted. 
The sidekicks get their recognition and then immediately bounce because dances suck and they all agree that they should go to the Paper Lantern instead to celebrate cause they’re tired, alright? Saving the day is hard.
So it’s all of them, a little battered and bruised and exhausted, crowded into this corner booth and laughing and being kids. The camera does it’s fade to comic book page thing, and the narration is something more along the lines of:
“Royal Pain and her cronies got locked away. Gwen and I talked things out, and she’s getting help for all the stuff her mom did to her. We’re taking things slow in the meantime.
The school is undergoing a lot of changes to the curriculum and getting rid of the whole ‘hero/sidekick’ divisions. (Mostly at the urging of my parents… and Layla). Next year is going to look a lot different, I think.
But it’ll be a good different, just like we are. None of us were what we were expected to be, and, I think, we’re going to keep defying expectations. There’s a whole world out there that needs changing.
And I can’t think of a better group of friends to do it with.”
THE END
(just give me found family saves the day by being themselves rather than somebody else, give me them saving the day because they care about each other, give me them fighting for what’s right and fixing things. please i am b e g g i n g.)
***
Additional nitpicks that are small but Very Important to Me
Coach Boomer is still called coach Boomer because there is no way I am missing out on the ‘okay, boomer’ jokes
Layla stays like Layla, but i’d like for the movie to stop trying to make her seem annoying for her beliefs or like she’s wrong to be so vocal about them. Her caring about things that are wrong ends up as the butt of too many jokes and i… do not like that.
Why so many dad/son scenes? Why this janky imbalance parenting dynamic between the Strongholds. Knock that shit off. I want happy functional family thank you very much
Mr Boy and the mad scientist are very obviously in a relationship
Wait, actually: mr boy, mad scientist and Boomer are al in a poly relationship and are ridiculous about it
I’d like to see more of the sidekick classes going over like, ‘the boring’ parts of the job, and teaching the kids how to deal with the aftermath of the heroes heroics, just to hammer in the fact that the system is fucked up and that it’s messed up that the heroes get all the recognition while the sidekicks are left to clean up the mess
Use actual 14 year old actors? These kids look like seniors.
Or, if you want more ‘mature’ characters make it so sky high is like,,, a finishing school or smth. Something kids 16 and over go to.
(What the fuck kind of parent thinks that their freshman child dating a senior is a good idea?? An almost adult coming onto a fourteen year old??? Are you trying to make Will’s parents (particularly the dad) seem like irresponsible assholes??)
Gwen is, at most, a year above Will in this rewrite, kay?
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