#(and very grateful that I have managed to experience pretty much all of the massive number of twists in the story at full intensity)

[blackjackkent]

Can't sleep. Scrolling Tumblr. Hit a Minsc gifset. Got through reading the first image caption and then the Tumblr app scrolled away incredibly rapidly for no obvious reason.

Tumblr really said "you've almost recruited him, you don't get to spoil yourself now". XD

[sparklefangs]

my library is saving my mental health

I was diagnosed with epilepsy in January and am no longer allowed to drive.

I live in the ass-end of nowhere - my town has about 1600 people in it according to the last census - and all the third spaces in a 45 minute drive radius, every single one, have been shut down by landlords who kept driving the rent up. (Seriously - a gaming cafe that had been there for 11 years and was always packed, a local institution, just closed a couple months ago because they couldn't afford the rent anymore.) I also can't walk anywhere at all because the roads have no shoulders, and locals in unnecessarily massive pickup trucks drive as though coming 3 inches from hitting pedestrians is their favorite sport.

Over the last 7 months I've felt my soul slowly leaking out like a nosebleed. There's so much I can't do. I can't go anywhere. I don't have friends or family to visit. Have you ever had a mental breakdown because you physically couldn't go buy a half gallon of milk? It's not great. I mean, obviously, a fair number of people experience that, but if you haven't, and suddenly that's your reality, it's pretty jarring. Even if you're an introvert, you still have the option available to you. Now imagine you don't anymore, even if you feel like you could. You just legally and by circumstance of location cannot leave the house unless someone takes you.

So, once a week, my partner drives me the half hour to our tiny little library and drops me off. It's not in walking distance of anything, so I sit there for six hours reading. Just chilling out in my favorite chair with a book. It's great.

I'm not the only person who does this. No matter what day of the week I'm there, I see the same people sitting in their favorite spots, doing the same thing I am. It's mostly older people, but also younger folks with various visible disabilities, and I assume others, like me, who probably have less visible disabilities and nowhere else to go.

This is an extremely conservative area but the staff managed to find a corner of the YA section for a tiny little pride-themed book display. I thought it was just for June, but it's mid-July and the display is still there.

I'm so grateful for this library. Even if you buy a lot of books or mainly use audible or kindle, go visit yours from time to time. Check out books, even if you don't get around to reading them. Sign up for events they might have - ours does a monthly "blind book date" thing where you tell them what you like to read, they pick out a couple books for you, and give you a few little themed extras in your box. Show that they're important so they can keep getting funding.

They need to stick around and you might not even realize how important they are until, like me, you have nowhere else to go. I've always valued libraries but now I find myself one of the people who actually really, truly needs it in a very personal and immediate way.

PS - And tell the library staff how much you appreciate what they do. They get yelled at all the time by jackasses who probably don't even use the library but are mad because they heard there are rainbows on some of the books.

[ssruis]

Saw someone say it wasn’t realistic that rui is now liked by more people & he should have to experience more social rejection and be fine with it for an arc because it’s “not realistic” & (extremely loud incorrect buzzer) uh oh! looks like someone failed their rui kamishiro classes.

A lot of Rui’s issues with connecting with others/being disliked by his peers had to do with people just not understanding him - assuming he was dangerous, that he was willing to put people in harms way, that he was just a crazy director. There was a massive gap in maturity, of course - if you put a super genius (autism coded) child in a group with average kids, he’s going to stick out. RMD shows this pretty clearly. He attempted to reach out through using shows as a common ground, which didn’t work.

Now that he’s in high school, and his peers are more mature, those who actually speak to him and spend time with him are able to recognize that he’s actually a good guy. Look at his relationship with Akito if you need an example. Additionally, through tsukasa & wxs Rui was able to realize he could connect to people outside of shows and he stopped acting very… indifferent to everyone around him, which also helped with making friends. The pandemonium crew were a special case because they all thought Rui’s knowledge/inventions/etc were cool from the get go, but other students… did not share that opinion. And still don’t.

There are a lot of examples I could bring up, but the 2nd card story in Rui’s “Brand New Style” 2* (TL Haruka’s penguins) is one of the best:

2nd year (greening) committee member A: Well, I’m still attached to the plants I took care of, so I thought I’d take care of them until I graduate.

3rd year committee member A: That’s understandable. Besides… ever since Kamishiro-kun joined us, it’s been much easier to take care of them.

2nd year committee member B: True, the flowerbeds aren’t getting vandalized anymore!

Rui: I don’t think I’ve really done much… but I’m honored to hear you say something like that.

3rd year committee member B: Yeah, I’m really looking forward to working with you again this year, Kamishiro!

Rui: (The atmosphere of this committee has changed a lot.)

Rui: (When I first joined, the looks everyone gave me weren’t exactly ones of “welcoming.”)

Rui: (Now, though, I seem to have gained their understanding. I’m grateful.)

Rui: (But…)

1st year committee members: Hey, isn’t that the senpai we heard those rumors about? The one from the weirdo one-two finish…

1st year committee members: That problem child who flies drones and conducts dangerous experiments in school? Why does he have to be in the Greening Committee…? I thought it was meant to be a peaceful committee…

Rui: (… Well, I suppose it can’t be helped.)

[rui is asked to be the one to explain greening committee’s responsibilities to the new 1st year members]

Rui: Would everyone please follow me?

1st year committee members: O… okay…

[scene change to outside]

1st year committee members: I never thought I’d end up getting involved with the senpai from the rumors like this…

1st year committee members: My friend’s older brother said to stay away from him because he’s supposed to be dangerous…

Rui: We’re here.

1st year committee members: O-okay!

Rui: All the flowerbeds facing this schoolyard are managed by the greening committee.

Rui: We’re in charge of daily watering duty, but we also work with the soil and plant new flowers during committee time.

Rui: The seeds for the flowers over there were planted a few months ago by the committee members. I’m glad to see the buds have finally sprouted.

1st year committee members: Hmm, you’ve been growing them from seeds, these flowers —

Rui: Ah, please be careful when you go to touch the flowers. It’s difficult to see, but there’s a net in front of the flowerbed.

1st year committee members: Woah, there is…! I didn’t notice at all, but there’s a net of threads like a spider web…!

1st year committee members: But what’s the purpose of that?

Rui: This flowerbed is positioned in quite a precarious place.

Rui: The flowers planted here were often crushed by stray balls from the tennis and softball clubs.

Rui: In order to protect the flowers from such accidents… but also to avoid spoiling the scenery, an almost invisible defense net was made.

1st year committee members: “Was made”… Did you make it, Kamishiro-senpai?

Rui: I did. I felt sorry for the flowers, you see.

1st year committee members: … Someone who’s known for dangerous experiments is working with the flowers…

Rui: … Oh dear. This flower seems to have withered.

1st year committee members: Ah… If it’s withered that much, I doubt it’ll grow anymore. You’ll be wasting the nutrients of other flowers, so it’s better to thin out—

Rui: … No.

Rui: I’ll put this flower in another planter and take care of it.

Rui: When it’s recovered, I’ll return it to this flowerbed. It should be together with everyone else, after all.

1st year committee members: Kamishiro-senpai…

1st year committee members: … I will do my best as a greening committee member.

1st year committee members: Senpai, please teach me a lot!

I think this card story is a microcosm of how he started to be more accepted at school - 1st years are scared of him, then they spend time with him and realize he’s not Some Insane Dangerous Monster but instead a nice guy (… when he’s not being a freak), and are like “oh ok he’s not a bad person we accept him.” Crucially: there are still other students who don’t accept him. & Rui has never really had an issue brushing this off, even if it’s obviously not something he enjoys experiencing.

I could talk at length on how I think this is actually a pretty realistic portrayal of what it’s like when you go from being really misunderstood (and therefore unliked) as a kid and then have an easier time making friends when you’re older, but I don’t think that’s necessary. I will say that I think if pjsk elected to instead constantly hammer in the fact that some people still don’t like rui it would kind of run against the story’s message of improving your life. We don’t need to dwell on sad things constantly in the Hopeful Hatsune Miku Game. But whatever ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

The thread also mentioned that Rui should have been more upset in BLF over not immediately succeeding, which I don’t have as much to say about beyond. No? It shouldn’t have? Why would it? Rui himself acknowledges that he’s not as well versed in the world of movie directing, and he’s always been eager to learn, which is a sign that he knows there are gaps in his knowledge. Similar to the rest of WxS, setbacks regarding his passions are something he views as an opportunity to improve.

Also. Rui *has* failed before as a director, just not on a massive scale. He mentions regretting type casting Tsukasa up until the torpe show, he mentions being at a loss for how to help Tsukasa in Phoenix, he talks about how his lack of singing knowledge was detrimental to Nene’s growth. I agree that it would be interesting to see him struggle in a big way with directing specifically, but it’s just not true that he’s never failed at anything ever wrt directing.

[polyklok]

E, M, N fluff and K, L, T smut for Nathan

E- Ending :(

First of all fuck you for making me write this jk loves you

If it’s early in the relationship, he just straight up ghosts you. He feels bad for doing it but he’s too much of a coward to do anything else. It’s probably because he realized he didn’t like you that much, you couldn’t keep up with his lifestyle, or he was simply being a horny bastard and pining after others. I love him, but he’s still a rich, sheltered douchebag dildo.

If it’s later on…he has a really hard time coming to terms. It’s gonna have to be a mutual decision, otherwise your both gonna be stuck in a miserable relationship. Maybe he realizes that his lifestyle is unfit for long term relationships, maybe you realize that you don’t suit him as well as you used to. He’s gonna make his explanation, hear out yours, hug you goodbye, and even provide some money to help you get by. But he’s not gonna talk to you again. His heart is too tender for that.

Potentially, if you really did mean a lot to him and changed him in ways he’s now grateful for, he’ll write a brutal song for you with secretly sappy and thankful lyrics. Then you get the satisfaction of knowing that you left on the best possible terms.

M- Morning

Nathan is very prone to routine and procedure. If he doesn’t follow his mental schedule, the whole day gets thrown off. A big part of that is you. He’s not leaving his bed until you give him a good morning kiss. He’ll sit and wait for you to wake up, and expects you to do the same, in order to start the day properly.

You two do everything in sync. Obviously this took time and practice, but he loves that you both run on the same time. As you get ready for your days, taking turns swapping the hair brush or something, he’ll recall last night’s dream to you. He’s still riddled with prophetic nightmares, but he feels a lot better about them if you take the time to listen and even analyze a little bit. If you remember any of your vivid dreams, he’s gonna wanna hear about it too.

Right before you leave the bedroom, he makes sure to cup your face in his massive hands and mutter a little, “Love you.” Every morning. He’s not great with his words, but he manages in to sneak that in just for you!

N- Night

You usually end up in bed before Nathan, if he goes at all. He pulls all-nighters fairly regularly, either from partying, writer’s block for lyrics, or simply not wanting to experience his nightmares again and keeping himself distracted. You’re gonna have to get up and drag him back with you. He has a hard time saying no to you.

On the nights he does join you in bed, you always wake up from his massive figure shifting the mattress. Every single night, he tries to be a little bit gentler so he doesn’t disturb you. No use. He’ll pull you close to him; he likes to be the big spoon. Sometimes he smells strongly of alcohol, sometimes body odor, or Irish spring if he remembered to shower. You fall back asleep with his face nuzzled in your hair and the sound of his snores gradually filling the room.

K- Kink

Nathan is very serious and rough in the bedroom. He’s going to be very in the moment and completely enraptured in you. Anyway, kinks-

Dom/Sub dynamic, impact play, knife play, blood play, overstimulation, bondage, (pretty much all of BDSM), role play, consensual non-con, gagging, crying, degradation, choking, wax play

You’re gonna have to be a pretty tough cookie to deal with him

L- Location

Honestly, it’s the bedroom. He likes the intimacy, the privacy, the personalization. But that’s boring, so his second favorite is-

On a boat/in a submarine. Hear me out. Nathan has a deep appreciation for the ocean, he wrote a whole damn album about it. It feels sensual and right to take you as close to the water as possible and, well, fuck you out of your mind. If you have an anniversary or something, he definitely plans a romantic submarine vacation, clear glass area so you can truly feel like you’re in the water.

Won’t do it on the beach though. He hates sand.

T- Toy

He has a few. Most of them are less toys and more tools, like bondage rope, ball gags, different kinds of whips and paddles. He’ll have a vibrator to torture the hell out of you with. Dildos are a maybe…he much prefers using himself to fill you. He might have some decorative blades that he likes to press up against your skin.

It’s not a crazy amount (a la murderface) but it isn’t nothing and probably more than what most people have.

If anyone else wants to make a similar request, refer back here!

[beevean]

Top 10 reason why Hecula is best ship, go!

Oh, but what a fortuitous coincidence :) I vaguely imply that I'd like more asks about Hecula, and lo and behold :) it's almost like you're in hell with me :)

I'm not sure I can rank them, but if you know me, you know which ones are the peak reasons I'm suffering from terminal brainrot <3

I am very weak for the narrative of a person trapped in an abusive relationship who manages to escape and learn that they deserve more. Fits Hector to a T :)

And yet Hector can't fully escape from Dracula. He's still cursed. He's forced to re-learn Devil Forging, the art taught by him from Dracula. He still lost much of his childhood and youth in Dracula's castle. He has to unlearn everything he has learned about being a weapon.

Hector is Dracula's specialest little boy and I love all the hints of how he was favored <3 because he was talented? Because he was cold and efficient like Dracula strives to be? Because he doesn't beg for love like Isaac does? Because he kinda looks like him? You decide. Point is, the mentor/protégé dynamic is very <3

But no, really, Dracula being possessive and overprotective of his precious Hector makes me swoon <3 it's both creepy and lowkey cute <3 he'd gouge the eyes of anyone who deludes themselves to be worthy of looking at Hector's splendor <3 only he can <3 because he deserves the best <3

I love to imagine that Dracula feels ownership towards Hector because he infused him with his own magic. Yes, same goes for Isaac, but... well, he's just not as good at using it :) Hector always makes Dracula proud <3 he's his very precious perfect weapon <3

Hector would care about his Lord. Dracula cherishes him like no one else does... like no one else would, because Hector only knew hatred before running to Dracula, and he welcomed him, and Hector is so grateful to his Lord and would obey him with pride <3 ... up to a certain point.

The symbolism of blood sucking meaning giving away your life, whether you want it or not. Hector threw his life away for Dracula because he needed it, or so he would feel. That's what my idea of Hector having bite scars all over his throat symbolizes. That, and a metaphorical collar he can't get rid of.

Dracula doesn't need any magical tricks to keep Hector on a leash, unlike someone else we know :) He knows his boy well enough to know what to say to him to keep him in line :) I like to think it as psychological warfare, Dracula expertly manipulating Hector, his feelings and what he craves to keep him nice and obedient vs. Hector's unbendable moral code and budding sense of pride (that I imagine that Dracula himself caused by spoiling him too much lol)

In short, I love that there is the potential for two "main" narratives. The one where Hector is groomed from youth to be as perfect and pliable as Dracula wants him to be, and while at first he naively trusts his Lord because he has zero world experience and just wants to be loved, he slowly but surely takes a stand and confirms his worth as a human being. Or the one where there are mutual, genuine feelings between the two - the relationship can never be truly healthy due to the massive power imbalance (which is a big 🥰 for me), but maybe, before Dracula went completely insane, there was a window of time where the two were fond of each other, Hector of his Lord who is always so kind to him, and treasures him, and gave him a reason to live, and Dracula of his strong knight who does his will and is so intelligent and devoted and whose valor may remind him of Leon.

Size difference :P Hector is very pickable in CoD, he gets picked up by normal enemies like the Red Ogre and the Harpies and also by Isaac (which is pretty chad ngl), but ofc, he looks especially small when Drac sips from him :)

I will spam my screenshots until people understand my Vision 😤

There was no need to do this, Drac. No need at all. You just missed you boy. Understandable, but really. yes this does things to my brain

and remember guys: Hecula canon <3

[finsterhund]

Reading this and finding this context makes me sad. For the record I didn't find out about Skinamarink personally until late November but I did evidently end up torrenting it. I desperately wanted to see it but it was only in film festivals. I try to make the effort not to pirate indie productions as this is pretty much the only situation where piracy does very much hurt creators but I absolutely still want to officially support it when I have a way to.

Skinamarink is something special to me and while I've gone on record to say I don't think it "works" as a movie and I had multiple issues with it, I've become extremely captivated by it all the same and I think it's safe to say it's a special interest now. I think Kyle is talented and I take pride in a fellow gay Canadian creative putting his work out there and feel a great sense of comradery in how this movie taps into the way my childhood neglect often felt. I think watching this movie may have also allowed a previously closed off or repressed part of my memories to become accessible too.

All the theater showings were way too far away for my disabled ass to ever hope of attending when it did get brought to theaters but I pretty much signed up for Shudder briefly solely to support Skinamarink lmfaooo

I wish there was a way to directly send support Kyle's way though. I really want to physically own a copy and also want merch. I saw at certain showings there were stuff like little pin buttons and I think Kyle should set up an Etsy or something. I could just buy/make fan merch but if it's just gonna be a button of a photo of the chatter phone with the movie's title above or something I'd like to get that from him. I only buy fan merch when it's created and handmade.

I guess now "everything turned out okay" and the movie made a comparatively massive amount of money upon theatrical release but I still feel bad.

Skinamarink is very divisive and pretty much my entire main friend group didn't like and roasted the hell out of it (I poke fun too because I meme the crap out of the things I hyperfocus on) but it's still something special to me. In a similar way that the English dub of the Tiny puppy tired and weak movie is. Weirdly my attachment and softness towards Tiny is of childhood nostalgia and Skinamarink is like, something I didn't grow up with but it's *how* I grew up and there's nostalgia I guess. One of the first things I said about it after I had first finished watching that it's basically if they made a machine that supposedly records videos of memories but spit this out instead, and that it's the memories from an alternate universe of me that isn't sentient, and that I was afraid it would be what I would experience after I died. It really accurately to me showed the way my nyctophobia works which I don't see all too often in video format.

In the end what it mainly did was inspire me. I want to remake a version for myself. Saccharine and masturbatory or whatever the phrase is. More character depth in Kevin and more information in regards to the entity mainly. I'm so entranced by the little scraps of lore we got that I really want more detail into the world that was made. Managing to feel inspired after the diagnosis and then losing Cazza to cancer has been increasingly more and more difficult so I'm really grateful to Kyle Ball for making something that caused me to think creatively again.

But yeah. Kyle idk if you're ever gonna read this but thank you for making it. I've had a lot of fun since discovering the movie and want to see more things in the future. Sorry me and a bunch of other people are negative at times but Skinamarink does still mean a lot to me and I'm interested in what you do next.

[audkitty]

I have three experiences with fieldwork: an undergrad class, field school in Mongolia, and wildfire remains recovery. I also want to add that I am disabled and have fibromyalgia, chronic fatigue, and a compressed spine due to arthritis. I mention this because fieldwork is extremely difficult for me, but it is easy for other people.

Undergrad: For degree requirements I had to take a “how to fieldwork” class. We met all day on Saturday (9 to 5) and we had one hour of inside instruction and a half hour lunch. We learned how to grid out an area to excavate using stakes and twine, how to create clean sidewalls, how to record our units, and how to bag and tag artifacts. It was fun, it was hard, but once a week was easy peasy.

Field school: My field school was in Mongolia. We could only be in the country for 30 days at a time, so we only had three weeks to work. We worked Monday through Saturday with Sunday off. We met for breakfast at 8, then cleaned the dishes and swept the dinning room, before meeting at the vans at 9 with plenty of water and our gear. We worked until lunchtime, which consisted of eating, cleaning, and napping. Then we continued working until around 6. Dinner followed, along with cleaning up afterwards. Surveying was hilly and hot, full of brambles, and two people got heat exhaustion on the hottest day we were surveying. Excavation was brutal, consisted of moving large rocks and sifting rocks and sorting rocks and a lot of rocks. After a few days we were all sporting impressive bruises. Because of the time crunch, lab work was considered a privilege and most people only did a day or two in the lab.

From what I hear this is not a typical experience, but I struggled and was very depressed during field school, and when I got back I had an emotional crisis because I wasn’t sure if I could ever become an archaeologist.

Wildfire recovery: For me this was the most rewarding. A massive wildfire came through the town where I work and pretty much wiped it off the map. There were 87 confirmed deaths. Many people lost their homes, and when they evacuated they left everything behind. I was part of a volunteer recovery team that went in after the coroner with corpse-smelling dogs to find cremated remains of people who had died previously. So when people evacuated they left behind their loved ones’ urns, and we went in to find them. Everything was toxic. We had to wear Tyvek suits and follow all the natural disaster safety rules. We worked in groups of 6, three days at a time, and searched four houses a day. We met at 9am, packed a lunch during the briefing, ate lunch in between sites, and met at 5 or 6 to hand over our contaminated suits and wash up before heading home.

Because of my physical limitations I excavated the first day, then took photographs and kept records the last two days. No one made me feel lesser, and in fact the site manager was grateful to have some one who could do the tasks I was doing.

———

For me, field school was the worst experience I could’ve had. It made me doubt everything about myself. Volunteer work was the most rewarding. In a professional setting I had my needs met and my limitations accommodated. During field school there was so much competition among the students to be the best, and I was often bullied by the other students because I was older, weaker, and they thought I was taking up valuable lab work they were entitled to.

Again, my field school experience was atypical, but I think it’s important to know the good and the bad.

If youre willing to share, what was the general schedule of the excavations you were on? Like how many hours a day, how many days a week, etc—of excavation on site and lab work. And did you join excavations in different countries, do you notice that different countries have different schedules and so on?

I'm happy to answer this with the caveat that my fieldwork experience is much different than most archaeologists' because it's all been field schools. I'll tag @archaeologistproblems as a Field Archaeologist™. @wafflelovingbatgirl has also done CRM work in the United States and I believe has experience abroad.

All of the formal digs I've participated in have been 9-5, 5 days a week schedules. This includes days for labwork, when we'd spend the entirety of the day in the lab. To my knowledge, that's fairly typical—it's a job, and so it has job hours.

There might be some variation if you're under time and/or weather constraints. Maybe you're looking to get the work done before a deadline (or impending weather event) which forces you to work more hours every day. If you're in a place with extreme heat, you might start working much earlier in order to avoid the highest temperatures during the middle of the day. Similarly, you won't work during dangerous weather conditions like thunderstorms, hurricanes, blizzards, etc.

Other archaeologists, please feel free to chime in with your own experiences!

-Reid

[theanonymousfoxsimp]

In relation to the newest naga fic,some naga heisenberg headcannons

Naga! Karl heisenberg x reader headcannons

18+ warning!

100% has you give him back scratches whenever he cannot find the spot to scratch. He gets pretty dirty easily so he hands you a warm wet rag and tells you to scrub him when in reality,he really wants scratches

He does get stuck in pipes sometimes,even as a naga-he is pretty thick. Sometimes you can hear him cursing and snapping metal whenever he is stuck

Hates the cold,despises it like he does his sister. He definitely has this old beaten up peice of clothing for his snake half whenever he's forced to go to a meeting. If you make a long sweater for him,he will shower you with attention

big fangs,massive fangs,can and will bite you since he knows he's not venomus(personally I headcannon he's a ball python naga). He uses his fangs to mark you much more and to leave more noticable claims on you

He doesn't have a bed because of this,but instead a personalized corner full of blankets and heating pads to keep him warm

Definitely makes fake rattles in order to make him appear like a rattlesnake whenever he doesn't have his hammer. The lycans are terrified of snakes so he has the perfect defense whenever a lycan tries and goes after him(if they ever get the chance)

He doesn't like to shed,it makes him feel weak and vulnerable so he'd rather be alone while doing it. But if you ever manage to convince him you'd help ,he is very helpful and grateful for it since shedding alone is stressful. Definitely acts like a puppy whenever you finish helping him,will not leave you alone for a good month

He is much more reserved as a naga,he's curious and skittish alot so don't expect him to be all buddy buddy at first,especially if you are also another cadou experiment

Has two dicks,100% and they're not human like. He uses this to his advantage whenever you and him have spicy time. He does lock himself to you until hes finished,has alot more stamina than normal karl because of his naga body

Does not eat cooked meat as much as he does raw,he prefers raw meat and can unhinge his own jaw to eat bigger peices. He doesn't do it alot because of the jaw aches he has after doing it so he prefers smaller pieces for himself

Definitely has made an entire room just for his snake needs,dosen't like being bothered when he has to do something like soaking himself in water or sunbathing or hanging on a pipe while resting. Has a rule for it but when you and him begin dating,he's much less stern about it and gets rid of the rule comepletly

If you are also a naga,he is VERY happy about it but doesn't show it if its the first time seeing you. He will do anything in his power to make sure you come back to the factory with him if miranda lets the lords choose who gets you. He's much more happy if you willingly choose him

Snake cuddles? He gives the best cuddles out of any karl minus werewolf karl. Naga karl 100% gives the best hugs and cuddles,very warm and would reccomended napping on him.

He has a much higher sex drive when he's in the mood for it,he really doesn't care if you're busy,he will find you and try and initiate spicy time if you were in the mood

Possessive? Extremely possessive,like to the point he will strike and hiss at the other lords if they get too close,even miranda got in the way once and earned herself a rather angry bite mark

He has his more snake moments,where hes fully in the mind of a snake and will just stay where you are,curling around you or simply bringing you back to his room in order to protect you from unseen danger.

Personally I headcannon him as a ball python naga and ball pythons are a bit lazy and stupid but karl prides himself on being smart and active. But if you manage to get him in a more relaxed state,he will act goofy and more aloof than he normally would

Spicy time is slow and made to make sure you're needs are fulfilled, his tounge is longer and forked so he definitely puts that to good use. Dosen't leave you unsatisfied,wouldn't even let you go if you are still needy for another round

His breeding kink is more prominent along with his need to bite you in order to claim you. Your neck is COVERED with bite marks and hickies before the night is up

If you ever make a hammock for him or an area where he can relax and feel safe in,he will be over the moon for you.

Here he would be a bit more smart and would be more likley to escape with you before ethan arrives,his snake half senses danger and he wants no part of it if you two are together. He's going to be a bit grouchy and pouty when he does escape with you but reasurance and love will make him see the brighter side

Duke and him are good friends here,duke helping karl figure out what's good for his snake half and whats not good.

This man has so much body wash it puts teen women to shame,theres so much and he's a clean freak when it comes to his own body. Sureley Not because he accidentally fell into a pile of rotted bodies and had to handle that horrible smell

My mans has CLAWS,sharp nails,definitely uses his gloves to hide those for a good chunk of his life until you come along and help him with his self image.

Pointy ears,he can wiggle his ears and they perk whenever he's listening to you

Bleps,the whole tounge sticking out of mouth thing cats do? He does that since sometimes he will flick his tounge out to sniff the air but forgets to pull his tounge back into his mouth. This leads to cute moments with him looking adorable while trying to be scary and terrfying

Has a huge thing for pred/prey. He will act like he's hunting literal food when finding you,however it's more fun when you act like food. He makes it enjoyable for you both when these little hunts happen

Wonderful upside down kisses whenever hes hanging from a pipe on the ceiling of the room. He tends to scoup you up sometimes when he is hanging from a pipe,these moments are the softest because he trusts you enough not to do anything while he's like this

Shirtless probably all the time after you and him get together,he probably slips up sometimes when you both weren't in a relationship. Teases you about it relentlessly when you see it and have a rather positive reaction to it

[yanderenightmare]

You made me fall in love with fear, it's all just fascinating. The way you write is an aesthetic in itself! It's so beautiful and thought-provoking. If your requests are open, I would love to see your volume one Yanderes with a clumsy s/o. Like, she is accident prone, always injuring herself, etc. I wonder how they would react with such fragility? Thanks! Have a wonderful day! :D

yandere ! BNHA headcannons

TIP-JAR

goodiebag WARNINGS: yandere, dumbification, abuse, manipulation, ableism, anxiety, death, murder, drugs, drugging, kidnapping

BAKUGO KATSUKI - KACHAN

He knew fragile things existed in the world.

And he knows that the world was designed to chew such powerless things up then spit them out again.

And he knows he isn’t one of those frail things.

As a child he thought it was fair for the strong to conquer the weak.

And hell… he still thinks it’s fair.

Her brittle nature provides him with such a great excuse too, such a perfect explanation for him to justify taking her.

To justify keeping her in soft frilly clothes, locked inside a room devoid of walls where they have been replaced by cushions and pillows and blankets and furs and stuffed-animals and all things soft, soft, soft against the bruises and scrapes on her knees and ankles and elbows and chin. Keeping her all cozy and clumsy where she’s unable to keep her footing on the plushie asylum floor, reduced to vertigo, especially with that fluffy pink ankle-cuff chaining her down.

Sometimes she’ll hide when hearing Bakugo’s footsteps coming thundering from behind her door. She’ll wrap herself up in all those soft things she’s grown to hate, pray under the covers only to hear the cracking predatory humor of Bakugo’s laugh once he spots where the chain trails to.

He'll drag her out of hiding like a puppy on a leash, all for him to punish, all with that splitting frenzied grin on his face, the one that makes her head dizzy on the sight of seeing how sharp those canines of his are, knowing how they’re going to find her neck as though she’s some chew-toy.

He’ll always make it sound as though that’s what she wanted, that punishment is what her weakness begged him for, as though weakness is synonymous with wanting pain or needing pain.

He’ll sleep there with her most of the time, in the room he’s made so painstakingly clear was her home. She’s coming more and more gradually to the understanding that nothing in reality is hers anymore. Not the room, not the clothes, not her body.

She’s too weak to be allowed to be in charge of anything, better for her to just find comfort in knowing how she has no responsibilities, better for her to just be grateful Bakugo wanted her as his pet rather than his prey. Better for her to listen and believe him when he tells her that she’s safe, instead of thinking of all those crippling reasons as to why she is far from being safe.

TODOROKI SHOTO

Clumsy prey is a sport Shoto always believed to be too mediocre and boring, given how easily the dexterity of the predator can win the chase.

He didn't think he could achieve stimulation without a challenge.

But, he’s now finding that chasing someone who’s barely able to keep her own footing is a game he rather enjoys quite salaciously. Understanding now that it’s less about the quest, less about actually catching his prize, and more about the experience, those funny little moments leading up to it.

The amount of hungry pleasure he derives from seeing her stagger away from him is bottomless.

He doesn’t know why, but it’s the outmost endearing and lovable and precious and cute thing he can think of.

Seeing her stumble and fall, all in the product of mixing her clumsiness with her wild manic fear. Watching those beautiful swivel-eyes spiral as she looks up at him through the thick darkness of the poorly lit hallways, hearing nothing but Shoto’s inhumanly sadistic snickering and her own heavy panting as she tries desperately to drag herself further away. Yet, knowing and awaiting his massive biting cold hand to grip around her ankle to drag her across the marble-floor back into her dungeon, back into the soft bed, so that they can do everything again.

Most chases end up with her hurting herself and eventually aiding her own capture.

She’ll always wake up with bruises she has no recollection of when or how she got, yet looking at them she can tell that they’re way too mellow to be something given to her by Shoto.

It's funny, where he hurts her, he actually ends up saving her more times than most. Where her sporadic escape has almost led her to go tumbling down the stairwell, where were it not for Shoto catching her in her fall, things could have gotten really ugly.

He wouldn’t want her to actually break her legs after all, no matter how many times he might tease and threaten her with the thought. Broken legs would mean no more games, and Shoto doesn’t want that to end any time soon.

But, there are softer aspects to her silliness too.

She can be just as dopey and awkward with her rambling thoughts as him, where her inelegance with her mobility seeps into her skillfulness with words too.

If she’s proper blissed-out she can talk up storms of complete and utter nonsense, rambling on about her dreams and what animal the shape of Shoto’s scars resemble and how pretty his eyes are and how much her body is tingling in the aftershocks of what fun Shoto exercised on her skin.

MIDORIYA IZUKU - DEKU

Naivety really is bliss, isn’t it?

Not just for herself, but for him too.

To watch her, in all her clumsy glory, fall on her face, time and time again, never learning her lesson.

That’s the definition of insanity, you know?

Doing the same thing over and over again expecting things to go differently.

But, no matter how many times she tries to escape, no matter how many times she runs, or screams or cries or swears she hates him until her lungs burn, she’ll always end up right where she started off, right where she belongs, right in his arms, under his thumb, under him.

He doesn’t even have to put any effort in to prevent it.

He just needs to sit back and enjoy the show as she fails so spectacularly all by her very own, then pick her up off the floor and coo and hush and shush and tsk at her to calm down or else she might end up hurting herself all over again.

How has such fickle featherbrained maladroit messes managed to survive? How hasn’t evolution wiped them from existence yet?

Perhaps because other more evolved creatures found them to be such a perfect source for blowing off steam. Entertainment is important after all. Small little escapes through the day where you can forget what nasty troubles you’ll eventually have to deal with and simply just play with your silly little pet.

He saves the world every now and again, the world can allow him this much, to have his very own swivel-eyed toy. He deserves it. 

Besides, she needs him. If he hadn’t stepped in and helped her, saved her from her own mistakes, evolution would have done its job and she’d be dead already.

But, he doesn’t expect her bumbling brainless little head to understand that, she’d just get a headache from thinking about it too hard.

No, better for her to focus on other things… like how to entertain him before he decides to show her just how small a foolish little thing she is.

He’ll often play with her, make her turn all shades of hopeless because she’s too forgetful and too soft-natured to comprehend what’s happened.

He’ll give her things, small little trinkets as presents for her good behavior, mostly accessories such as hair-bows, necklaces, anything he can easily slip off her without her noticing, then pretend to be disappointed, scolding her as though she’s some child who’s unable to take care of her things, punish her and kiss her on that scared foolish little face as she splutters out her apologies, having not a single clue she’s right where he wants her, completely clueless to the fact that she’s perfect in every which way imaginable.

DABI - TODOROKI TOUYA

It feels so unexplainably good to hold something infinitely helpless and vulnerable and dainty in his destructive hands without it shattering like glass.

It feels so insurmountably meaningful and purposeful and godsend to save someone for once, even if it’s from themselves.

It’s nice being in the presence of true chaos, the true absence of order, a great real heap of a total clusterfuck. It makes him believe that even life requires a little death to scare them into safety, that even light requires darkness, that even love needs darkness, that even love desires darkness.

He used to think small things such as her were made up of cotton and all things soft like dandelion-fluff, but now he knows they’re made of breakable brittle things such as autumn-leaves, in desperate need of being wrapped up, suffocated, drowned in safety. He’s the one who needs to be soft like cotton, he’s the one who needs to be gentle and soft so she not crumble like the sweet pastry she is.

It’s cute. She’s cute. Unbelievably so too sometimes.

He feels like half the time he spends with her he’s teaching her how to walk properly, catching her when she falls or helping her up from the ground, dusting her off, wiping tears away from her face, patching up small scrapes and gashes, kissing her forehead, letting her know how it’s all okay, making sure she knows she’s no such thing as a burden, though not letting her in on the fact that he loves seeing her fail only for him to save the day.

He’ll take her outside more because of her ditzy nature, knowing how she’s far too dopey to ever manage an escape without pulling out a near miss unintentional suicide attempt, where which after a number of rescues from him she forgets why she was even running in the first place, now too caught up with being close to him instead, with feeling safe, feeling protected.

He’ll save her from wandering off into traffic, protect her when she says the wrong idiotic thing to the wrong batch of people, fight for her when her cuteness lures and pulls and ensnares other predators.

It’s symbiosis, if he thinks about it, if he tries justifying it.

She needs him and he needs to feel needed. She needs to be taken care of, he wants to take care of her, she needs protection from herself, he wants her dependence, he wants the safety of knowing how she cannot survive without him.

SHIGARAKI TOMURA

It’s hilarious.

She’ll break her own legs for him at this rate.

He wonders how many braincells could possibly be left in that thick skull of hers, with how much she trips and walks into walls and rolls out of bed, bumping her head on every possible thing, he can’t count how many times she’s head-butted him, whether it’s been on purpose or not. 

He wonders if she might just be blind.

If maybe she needs glasses…

Well… that’s too bad if that’s the case, no chance he’s giving up watching her agonize over every misstep that leads to her falling on the floor by his feet, her head tipping to look up at him with that ridiculous expression, that dumbfounded adorable confusion.

It probably doesn’t help that he keeps the room so dark.

It probably doesn’t help that he leaves things on the floor in hopes of her foot catching on them.

But, can you blame him for wanting to see her all cute and flushed? Watching her frustrate over herself, too caught up in being mad with her own inadequacy to bother being mad at him. So preciously hopeless as she tries to pick herself up off the floor, her hair always in a mess and bruises and scrapes littering her otherwise soft skin.

Pretty and stupid isn’t usually the type he fawns over, in fact: pretty and stupid is usually the type that disgust him, pretty stupid bitches that never spare him a second glance, pretty stupid bitches that are only worth one fuck before he dusts them.

But pretty stupid and sweet? 

That’s the perfect cocktail.

So stupid and sweet she doesn’t even know how pretty she is. So stupid and sweet that she’s surprised he gave her a second glance.

He wonders if he as well would be this careless and reckless if he hadn’t been gifted with that destructive quirk of his.

He wonders if she had been born with a heart made less up of honeycombs and more daggers like his, if she would also second-guess touching things as opposed to making it her mission to bump into every single thing in her path.

If she would be less trusting and more cynical like him.

He’s grateful she wasn’t.

He’s grateful that the only type of death she’ll ever get the chance to taste is him, that as far as she’s concerned… he is death.

TAKAMI KEIGO - HAWKS

Most of the time it’s cute.

Most of the time he loves watching her fall prey to her own absentmindedness. Watch her trip on nothing but her own poor footing.

After all, he does love catching her before she hits the ground. He loves being her hero, seeing that shocked expression on her face, that cute blush of embarrassment as he smirks down upon her jumpy skittish person.

Then of course there’s the less salvageable moments, yet still no less cute, where she’ll drop dinner plates or her glass or the wine bottle or the remote-controller, where she’ll get so frustrated with herself and her stubby fingers, her feet always needing bandaging where she always manages to step in her own mess of glass-shards.

Those times where she fucks up and fears Keigo’s temperance so much she’ll turn into a timid little ball of apologies and gratitude, where she’ll fear that any more screw ups will cost her his understanding attitude and awake something livid inside him.

She’ll be so sweet with fear as opposed to when she’ll jerk away from his touch.

So yeah, most of the time it’s cute, most of the time it’s beneficial.

But that habit she has of not thinking before speaking or acting gets her into a whole lot of trouble too.

Especially when she pushes him away or calls him something unsavory. When she acts like a brat, forgetting who’s in charge.

Keigo feels the need to teach her a thing or two about being a bit more careful and a little less brainless. 

He’ll pose her in the middle of the living room, with only red lace adorning her tiny frame, looking cold but not so much to be the reason to her shivers, he knows better as he can smell the fear laced in the air.

On top of her head he’ll put a perfect plump red apple and tell her to stand as still and picture-perfect as possible.

She’s pretty good at it too, at being still and quiet and pretty, speaking only when spoken to, at least until he starts sending knife-sharp feathers in her directions, creating her silhouette in the wall as the feathers fly just short of nicking her skin, where if she moves only a slight mere inch, the crimson edges will slice open her skin.

And if the apple should fall, well… if she can be sweet and apologize and show him just how sorry she is, he’ll think about making the punishment enjoyable.

SHINSO HITOSHI

Hitoshi can’t manifest how much awe he has for that ditzy nature of hers.

So forgetful, so clueless, so cute.

She’s like a little girl, a child, a baby in a cradle, yet with the ability to get lost, wandering off at every slight distraction.

He’s tempted to put a bell around her neck if only to be alerted off when her curiosity has taken her out of his eyesight. She would look adorable with a little golden jingle bell around her throat, hanging on a velvet choker.

But then again… he wouldn’t have the joy of finding her all tousled and knotted up in her newest little fuck up.

Little Miss Forgetful forgetting all her lessons, all those rules Hitoshi’s taught her, forgetting her manners, forgetting her chores, forgetting how to be his good little girl or else suffer the consequences of being punished and becoming Master’s little puppet on strings.

Little Miss Messy making a total clutter in the kitchen when trying her best to get her hand on a knife, but only managing to bump into everything, shards of glass painting the crime scene with the culprit displayed and trapped all perfectly in the middle of her own mess, all for Hitoshi to come and catch red-handed.

Little Miss Bump with new bruises and scratches as she’s fallen yet again on the floor in the midst of her newest escape attempt.

He could go on all day about his sweet little Miss Silly, his little Miss Scatterbrain, his little Miss Stupid, who’s always getting into trouble, constantly needing Hitoshi to come to her rescue.

But, when he’s not home, he can get anxious.

Scared that she might actually hurt herself just a bit too much and he’ll arrive just a bit too late.

It should take a lifetime to die, yet she’s on the verge of death nearly every day, it only takes an instant and it’s over.

He’ll check in on her at home more times than he probably should throughout the day, praying before he unlocks the door and steps inside the quiet stillness of their house, picturing her having cracked her skull open when slipping or accidently managing to hang herself off of something or drowning in the tub after having fallen asleep, there’s no end to what horrors he can picture.

His anxiety only satiated when finding her still asleep on the bed, soft untroubled snores hanging off the walls. 

It makes sense with how much melatonin he slipped in her drink before she dozed off…

Just a little safety measure.

CHISAKI KAI - OVERHAUL

It manages to surprise him each and every time… just how much danger such a little thing is able to wrap herself up in.

It’s as though she chases the trouble, as though she wants the punishment that follows.

He doubts she ever really thinks anything thoroughly through.

She’s reckless, ruthless in her disregard for safety. Hare-brained and untrustworthy and in desperate need of his protection and his correction, or else she might just accidentally kill herself one day or worse… end up in the wrong set of hands.

It’s come to the point where he’s stopped gifting her with jewelry, because he gets so hysterically uneasy whenever she’s gotten her hands on anything sharp.

Before he’d get angry when she threatened him, wrathful, raging because she doesn’t listen, her foolish little brain unable to follow the simplest of directions. 

Now though, he gets scared because she’s unable to understand what’s best for her, because the only thing she'll ever manage to hurt with those sharp trinkets is herself.

And if she hurts herself, if she risks getting bacteria in her bloodstream, infections in her wounds, scarring and marring that beautiful body, he’ll have no choice, he’ll see no other option but to make sure she can never manage such a thing ever again.

He often humors the idea of simply tying her to the bed and feeding her with a silver spoon, only liquids so she not choke when she forgets how to chew properly.

He’ll act as though she’s a nuisance, but it will be a lie most of the time, while actually finding an inane amount of reassurance and relief in her whimsy, in her gracelessness. Where yes, she is a danger, but she’s far from deadly.

And besides, it’s nice getting a little break from all formalities, someone he can finally be a little rough around the edges with, someone he can let himself enjoy soft pleasures with, someone he can smile or even laugh with when the occasion calls for it. 

Sometimes he’ll place her in high-heels, only to watch her stumble around awkwardly like a little deer skating on ice.

She’s so determined too, determined to prove she isn’t a klutz, how she too can be elegant enough for a dance fit for the ballroom.

He’ll humor that fantasy, but she’ll always throw her heels off in favor of standing on top of his surgically white sneakers and letting herself get floated and swayed with how swiftly and precisely Kai has the established proper poise to enact.

He’ll smile then, when those flirty bubbling giggles erupt from her as she holds onto him, telling how him wonderful flying feels like.

TIP-JAR

[astaroth1357]

The Obey Me Cast on a Camping Trip (Part One: Brothers)

Hey guys, thank you sooo much for getting me to 2,000 followers!! I honestly don’t know what to say... I never dreamed that this little hobby of mine would reach so many eyes, and I can’t be more grateful. At a time in my life where things feel so chaotic and uncertain, being a part of this community and sharing my weird ideas has been what’s kept me going. It’s been such a rewarding experience all around, so thank you. From the bottom of my heart. 😊

I pulled out all the stops for this post. I even brought out one of my favorite songs of all time: Ao to Natsu by Mrs. GREEN APPLE to get the feel juuust right. I hope you all enjoy it!

This post is split in two due to length (I had too much fun again...) For the Undateables, please click HERE!

Intro:

Another day, another team building activity between the demons and the exchange students. It was Diavolo’s idea to go on a camping trip to the human world (because of course it was), and there were very… mixed responses. That sentiment wasn’t helped when he refused Lucifer’s insistent pleas to just purchase cabins for everyone to stay in. Oh no, the Demon Lord wanted to rough it out in the wilderness, and now everyone else was getting dragged along with him…

Wonder how that turned out?

Lucifer

Really, really, really tried to push Diavolo to just rent out cabins in but noooo, he wasn’t having it... So he ended up driving a van crammed with his brothers, the MC, and a butt-ton of camping equipment into the Alaskan wilderness… 

The car ride itself was insufferable… We’re talking, “I SWEAR I WILL TURN THIS CAR AROUND!!” level of antics every 10 miles or so (mostly from Mammon)…

Setting up camp was even more of a nightmare because about half of his brothers were utterly useless. The other half (save Satan) were completely clueless… Had it not been for Barbatos and Satan he probably would have just resigned himself to the mercy of the river’s currents and let it take him away…

He couldn’t even wear his usual clothes because of the situation��� For the first time in who knows how many centuries, he was stuck wearing jeans… Diavolo even bought him several plaid shirts... (which he was not happy with btw because his brother wouldn’t stop making fun of the “new” him)

He had his own tent of decent-size, enough to move around in but nothing to write home about. The very fact he didn’t have to share was a luxury in itself, so he took it for what it was worth...

He spent a good portion of the trip focused on two things: keeping Diavolo happy and everybody else alive. He rarely left camp unless forced to; he just wanted to get it all over with as soon as possible…

If he did leave, it was because Diavolo would drag him along to fish or hike. He was... less than pleased to be called out of his tent at the crack of dawn or well past dusk to sit on a little rented fishing boat with Diavolo… but he didn’t exactly pick his friends so...

He rates the trip Too Much Trouble/10. Let’s never do it again.

Mammon

Wasn’t a massive fan of being stuck out in the wild, but Satan told him some made-up bullshit about buried treasure out in the forest and got him HOOKED. He even borrowed stole a whole bunch of mining/digging equipment just for the occasion!

He spent most of the car ride asking, “Are we there yet??” like a child. The MC had to step in to keep Lucifer from leaving him on the side of the road at multiple points during the journey... 

He was one of the utterly useless ones when it came to setting up camp. Someone charged him with putting up the twin’s tent, and he spent thirty minutes reading (then re-reading) the instructions while shouting expletives. Poor Simeon had to shield Luke from the vulgarity…

He has to share a tent with Levi, which neither of them liked. Mammon mainly because of Levi’s “old fish stink” and Levi because he feared catching “Mammon’s stupid.”

He was all jazzed up to go digging from Day One, though. He’d have breakfast, grab his shovel, then wander out into the middle of nowhere to go dig holes in the ground…

He also got completely lost on Day One, and it took the MC summoning him with their pact to return him to the group... By that time, he was filthy and somehow looked like he had been castaway for days (even though he was gone for like, three hours?)

When he stubbornly refused to stop digging, Lucifer resorted to just tying a rope around his ankle and letting him loose. It was up to Mammon to get back to camp before dinner, or else Lucifer would yank him back like he was on a leash.

Satan waited until the last day to finally tell Mammon the treasure was bullshit, and he was PISSED. He even threw Satan into the river, which resulted in the rest of the brothers joining in for a swim while the two tried to “playfully” drown each other.

He’d rate this trip 0/10 because he didn’t get any buried treasure. What a ripoff…

Leviathan

Hated the idea with a burning, seething passion. There’s no internet, cable, electricity, or phone signal out in the middle of nowhere! How the heck is an otaku supposed to survive?!

He clung to his electronics during the car ride until either they ran out of signal or their battery died, then he didn’t know what to do with himself… He resorted to reading several volumes of the manga he stuffed into his bag and clung to the MC for emotional support…

Yet another useless soul trying to put the camp together. He was in charge of his and Mammon’s tent but ended up almost crying in frustration… How the hell do humans do this all on their own?? Wasn’t he supposed to be the third strongest?! Why is he so pathetic?!? 😫

Hates sharing a tent with Mammon because he always wakes up to the second born encroaching on his space somehow… Poor baby is pretty much directly against the tent wall and STILL has to deal with legs and elbows in his side... 😰

Spends the majority of the trip moping in the tent... If he goes out there, he has to deal with the sun, bugs, and people… No thanks. He only leaves for meals and occasionally to go swimming. 

When he found out part of the way through that Barbs brought portable solar panels and a battery pack for Diavolo and Lucifer’s phones, he was livid. He demanded access to the power source, which Lucifer refused because “It would defeat the purpose of this trip.”

He’d have summoned Lotan right then and there, deadass in the middle of the forest, if the MC hadn’t intervened. He then went back to moping, but now at the bottom of the lake and it took a lot of coaxing to get him back out…

On the final day, he was packing up the camp before anyone else even woke up. He wanted OUT and back to civilization ASAP. Bedroom here he comes!

Satan

You wouldn’t think of Satan as an outdoorsy guy. Still, he has shades of a survivalist in him (mostly because he’s read a lot of guides and was looking for an excuse to use them for a loooong time).

He read for the majority of the ride. He was squished between Asmo and Levi, which was reasonably peaceful. But he did end up shouting at Mammon quite a bit towards the end because “NO, we’re not there yet, peabrain!!”

He actually wasn’t a waste of space when setting up the camp, and between him, Barbs, and Lucifer, they were able to get a lot of stuff set up before sundown. He did have to bark a few orders to the others here and there, but overall competency won out in the end.

He shared a tent with Asmo, and the two made it work well enough… Except when Asmo did things like spraying his perfumes and dry shampoos, making it practically impossible to breathe in for a few minutes…

Spent a lot of the first few days reinforcing the camp to a ridiculous degree.

Did he have to collect large branches to build an exterior fence around the campsite? No. But he did.

Did he have to set up a water distillation system using some of the materials Barbs had lying around the “kitchen?” No. But he did.

Did he have to weave a series of fishing nets to catch them lunch from the lake and river? I think you get the point by now.

Only once he built pretty much every contraption or improvement he could think of, did he go back to just reading and relaxing by the fire.

By the time the group was ready to leave, Satan had somehow managed to craft them a veritable, self-sustaining fortress in the middle of the Alaskan wilds…

Overall he would rate the trip as… meh. Next time give him a challenge like a deserted island or an actual desert, and then he’ll really see what he can do.

Asmodeus

Was about as unhappy with the idea as Levi was… It wasn’t that he disliked the outdoors per se, it was just that no one, NO ONE, pulls off looking flawless after several days stuck in a tent!

He chatted the entire car ride from start to finish. He never stopped talking. It made for decent background noise at least…

Was one of the more clueless ones when trying to set up camp and pretty just did what he was ordered. The second he was left to try and figure something out on his own, he went to Lucifer or Satan for help because NOPE. Human equipment is needlessly complicated sometimes…

He had to share a tent with Satan, which in theory shouldn’t have been that bad, but Satan was out basically all day in the sun doing who knows what and would always come back sweaty and gross! At some points, he had to chase his brother out of the tent until he dunked himself in the river or something. No way was Asmo sleeping next to that. 😤

Asmo took the second-longest to get up and get ready in the morning. Sometimes he wouldn’t even leave the tent until well past breakfast just in an attempt to salvage his hair and skin… He only got grouchier about it as the trip went on… 😥

A more… earthy looking Asmo is kind of a bizarre sight. He’s still attractive, no doubt, but it’s less like polished glamour and more like Hollywood humble. He spent the majority of the trip looking like a somewhat dirtied movie-star (which he still insisted was the worst he’s ever looked in ages).

Aside from salvaging his looks, he actually enjoyed taking pictures of their surroundings or of the group (but not himself). He sometimes forgot how genuinely breathtaking the human world could be…

….but his patience for the place wore out quickly once he started noticing his hair getting greasy. He was right next to Levi, packing up the site once it was finally time to leave. At least those two finally found something they could agree on, let’s get the fuck out already! 

Beelzebub

He was really curious about trying camping food and pretty excited that Barbatos was coming, too (because that meant great food in general).

Unfortunately, Lucifer had to stop the van at basically every gas station they passed for Beel could refill on snacks… Belphie ended up getting buried in wrappers pretty often, but he was asleep, so it didn’t matter much.

Beel did a lot of the heavy lifting when setting the camp up, but the finer details were left up to everybody else. He had his hands full getting stuff off the cars as is…

Of course, he shared a tent with Belphie, and there wasn’t much complaint between them. Honestly, there would have been more drama if they were split, so this was the better option.

After the MC told Beel about fishing and how it could net him more food, if he did it right, he knew exactly what he wanted to do during the trip.

… But no one told him how long and slow the process would be. There were points he’d get so hungry he’d consider eating the bait himself…

That was until about Day Three of the trip when they passed by a river full of grizzly bears… He was about to ask the MC why the bears were all standing in the water, but then he saw a fish practically leap directly into one’s mouth…

Beel had discovered his true calling.

Of course, the grizzlies didn’t take too kindly to a demon suddenly sprinting into the water with them. They tried to fight him off, but Beel just tossed most of them downstream without any issue until they realized who the apex predator really was…

After forming a shaky truce with the bears, Beel would stand in the water for hours then come back with whole baskets full of salmon… There were far more fish than Barbatos knew what to do with, so he’d just confiscate a few then let Beel eat the rest...

The MC shuddered to think about what Beel had done to the local salmon population… But he was full and happy for most of the trip, so he had a great time!

Belphegor

Sleep for him isn’t too contingent on location, so the idea of camping wasn’t terrible. It did sound like a lot of hassle for no good reason, though…

He spent the entire car ride asleep, head and cow pillow pressed up against the window and everything. It wasn’t the most comfortable experience, but he’d dealt with worse.

He was utterly useless when putting up the camp by choice, thank you. He had more than enough sense to get things put together; he just didn’t want to. If he wasn’t asked to do something by Beel or the MC, he’d just lay back in the grass and smugly watch everybody else struggle…

Again, he and Beel are in the same tent, and you wouldn’t hear any complaints out of him. He did start to have some second thoughts when Beel began getting a fishy smell, though, so he tried to bunk with the MC in their tent for a while.

Like Levi, Belphie didn’t leave the tent much during the daylight hours, but that was because he was still asleep… There was no good way to wake him with no alarms available, so he’d sleep in past lunch easily.

When he was awake, he didn’t leave camp very much except to walk with the MC or watch Beel fishing grizzly-style.

Eventually, Asmo and Diavolo got sick of him dodging their photos, so they’d started posing him Weekend at Bernie’s style around the camp (always conveniently propped up by something and with sunglasses on)

Something Belphie did like, however, was the nighttime. Since there were no lights around, he could practically see everything the sky had to offer. He could spend hours laying on his back long after everyone else had gone to bed just admiring the stars.

All in all, not a terrible trip. Anything that could give him that view like that was well worth it. 6/10, would sleep again.

Click HERE for Part Two. Check out my Masterlist for more!

[raincitygirl76]

I know “did he say he would give up the crown for you?” Is an iconic line. That said, I want to inject some realism. Wilhelm CAN’T abdicate until he’s 18. Right now he’s 16 going on 17, and legally still a child. And honestly, for a huge, life-altering decision like that, I wouldn’t expect him to make it at 18. Yeah, 18 is old enough to vote, join the military, and make your own legal decisions, but most people are still pretty emotionally immature at 18. God only knows i was! Abdicating is a massive decision for a teenager.

Plus, even if he abdicates, his face would still be instantly recognizable. His life would probably be closer to normal as the ex-Crown Prince than as the current Crown Prince, but he would never be able to lead an entirely “normal life”. He would probably still need bodyguards for his own safety, but since he would no longer be part of the royal family, he’d have to pay for them himself. At 18, where would he get the money? If he abdicated, Kristina would be furious. I can’t see her setting him up with a trust fund for his post-royal life.

I’m not saying it’s impossible that Wilhelm might abdicate one day. If that’s what makes him happy, he should go for it. But if he does, realistically, I hope he waits until he’s at least finished university. He needs more life experience under his belt before he makes a decision that would affect the entire rest of his life. And would probably result in him becoming permanently estranged from both his parents. I mean, I know Kristina and Ludvig aren’t winning any parents of the year awards, but since Erik’s death, they’re the only immediate family he has left.

Don’t get me wrong, I think Wilhelm exploring the POSSIBILITY of abdication is a very important part of his S2 arc. Therapy with Boris helps him realize he’s allowed not to be grateful for his privilege, because it’s also a burden. He didn’t earn it, he didn’t choose it. Thinking about potential alternate futures is a healthy thing to do when the status quo has you miserable. But exploring a possibility with your therapist isn’t the same thing as pulling the trigger on a life-altering and irrevocable decision that you can’t make yet legally anyway.

Also, S2 Wilhelm is privileged but has zero autonomy. His mother and the royal court shoved him back into the closet in December. When he flipped out in January, his mother ordered his bodyguards to remove him from Hillerska by force. The only reason it didn’t work was all the students outside his room with camera phones. Wilhelm has to eat 3 meals a day, every day, in the same room as the sex offender who put his naked body all over the internet, knowing his mother protected said sex offender over her only surviving child.

In 2.06, Wilhelm coming out isn’t only about his relationship with Simon (although that’s the biggest reason, obviously). It’s also about Wilhelm seizing a chance to make his own decisions for once. Once he’s outed himself to the world on live TV, his parents and the Royal Court no longer control the narrative. They wanted him to keep lying to protect the monarchy’s image, and they would never have wanted him to stop. I know Kristina said he could come out when he turned 18, but i’m pretty sure she was stalling.

Now they have an openly queer Crown Prince, they have much less leverage over him. And I don’t think it’s necessarily being Crown Prince that is what Wilhelm hates most, it’s having no control over his life. If he manages to grab more autonomy for himself, he will feel less helpless. And he may end up coping better with his position as Crown Prince.

He might still abdicate eventually, but the job isn’t necessarily the biggest problem. It’s being treated like a disobedient child by his parents and the Royal Court that stresses him out the most. In S1 he’s forced to make two different media statements that are both lies. The one in 1.01 where he claims he and his parents mutually decided he would enrol at Hillerska, and the one in 1.06 where he claims he wasn’t in the video. He didn’t want to make either statement, but he succumbed to the pressure and did what he was told.

After the jubilee speech in 2.06, it becomes a lot more difficult to force Wilhelm to lie to the press and the public. In fact, putting him in front of the press and the public at ALL becomes problematic in the wake of the jubilee. If he’s gone way off script on live television once, he could do it again. The queen and the royal court will view him as a loose cannon. But they’ll also be forced to negotiate with him, and he’ll be negotiating from a position of strength.

Yeah, in 2.05 Wilhelm says he could give up the throne to be with Simon. And I’m sure he means it. Also, it’s possible he hasn’t connected the dots yet and realized a minor can’t abdicate. But that isn’t a decision he could take tomorrow. The biggest takeaway from that line, I think, is that he’s contemplating a step that big at all. It’s narrative shorthand for “I love you. You matter to me. The chance to be with you is more important than all the status and money.”

Also, that line, as much as I want it on a t-shirt, isn’t the most important part of that scene. Wilhelm gives the decision to Simon. He acknowledges he shouldn’t have kept the truth about August from Simon, and he’s trying to make amends by giving Simon control. Simon can choose to press charges against August, in which case Wilhelm will feel obliged to stay Crown Prince, or let August off the hook, in which case Wilhelm could eventually let August take over.

But Wille makes it clear that’s Simon’s decision to make, it’s not just symbolic, and it’s not a decision Simon has to wait to make until he’s 18. Wilhelm promises he will abide by whatever Simon decides. And then he does! Simon chooses going to the cops over letting August get away with it and potentially getting back together with a Wilhelm who plans to abdicate. Wilhelm, although clearly terrified, doesn’t try to talk him out of it.

If Wilhelm has zero autonomy in S2, Simon’s autonomy is a negative integer. He didn’t get to pretend he wasn’t in the video, because everyone could see his face. He’s been fucked over repeatedly by multiple different people. Including his sister, August, Jan-Olof, the queen, his ex-boyfriend, his new boyfriend, and his parents. Micke is, well, Micke. And Linda is so happy he’s dating that nice steady Marcus she ignores the inconvenient fact that her son is acutely uncomfortable when she talks about the guy. Read the room, Linda!

Yeah, Wilhelm meant what he said to Simon about abdication in 2.05, but at their age, it’s a symbolic gesture. The more important thing was that he let Simon decide how to handle whether to press charges against August. Even when Simon made the decision that was rejecting Wilhelm’s offer to abdicate. Wilhelm doesn’t just want to seize autonomy for himself, he wants Simon to have autonomy too.

Poor boy needed a few minutes to process all that (or maybe days)

[regrettablewritings]

Soulmate AU: The First Drawing You See From Your Soulmate is Tattooed on Your Skin

A detective having a tell would probably be considered inappropriate to most people. Detectives were supposed to read tells, not have them. But then again, Benoit had never been much for keeping up appearances. Besides, what was the harm in rubbing his thumb along his right wrist? It helped him focus; it helped him think.

Or at least, that was what he’d told himself. He wasn’t entirely lying, either, rather the larger whole of it all was more so that when he rubbed that spot on his skin, he felt calm. Composed. He liked to think that that was the feeling his soulmate had intended when they painted that image, whenever they made or would make it. Whatever it was. After all, it had plenty of blue in it.

He was pretty sure it was meant to be a pond or some kind of body of water; that might explain the blues and greens and maybe the bits of white that he could make out. And if he squinted his eyes a little, he could swear there were little flecks of gold. Goldfish, maybe? Honestly, he had no clue. Benoit wasn’t much for complaining or expressing a lack of gratefulness, but he couldn’t help but sometimes feel envious of those whose tattoos covered a larger part of their body. Not a massive amount, but at least just enough to be able to tell precisely what the heck their soulmate’s image was trying to portray. Clearly, the image was larger than what that patch of his skin could afford, and honest to God, he’d spent a good part of his life trying to make out what it was!

(The embarrassment of it all, he would sometimes muse deprecatingly: That the acclaimed “Last of the Gentlemen Sleuths” could solve the most absurd cases in the country, yet had spent most of his natural-born life completely stumped by what might as well have counted as a body part!)

And yet, Benoit could never stay frustrated about it; not when his thumb gently grazed against the image, imagining the smoothness of his skin ebbing into the aquatic swirls of the proposed water. But just for extra precaution, he saw no harm in distracting himself.

That afternoon’s distraction? A quick skim of the local paper, accompanied by a mug of hot tea. He tried not to think of how such a method revealed his age, instead snapping the paper open to a page discussing the local goings-on. It was the usual sort of content: The community theater’s spring production was seeking house crew members, a mom and pop-style restaurant was having an anniversary special . . . It was the same sort of thing Benoit had grown used to expecting.

But what his pale blue eyes landed on next didn’t make the rest pale by comparison -- it downright washed all else from existence: An art show.

Benoit considered himself a well-rounded person, but it was more so in an almost tongue in cheek sort of manner: As a detective, it was his job to be appropriately versed in an assortment of fields. However, a jack of all trades was never truly a master of none. Benoit’s experiences with art theft and forgeries had lent him a hand in only about as much observation as was necessary for the respective occurrences.

But . . . he knew those swirls. He knew that blue, those greens, that white -- he recognized how the gold was patterned! Sure, the cheap ink job of a colored newspaper picture might have dulled the quality ever so slightly but there was no mistake to be made: That painting was his. No . . . It was theirs!

You tried to make calming breaths without making your anxiety obvious. A nervous but otherwise acceptable smile twitched into place, fooling the guests as they wandered about the gallery. Or, at least, you certainly hoped it was fooling them; but it was probably all to be outdone by the fact that you’d been nursing the same champagne flute for the last half-hour.

Is this what “making it” feels like? you wondered. Because if it was . . . you weren’t too fond of it. You felt bad for not relishing this opportunity; the art world was highly competitive, and you were more than blessed to have had the chance to not only display your work in a showroom, but to have said room be dedicated entirely to your pieces. But in that blessing was also a curse: The curse of criticism, of weary eyes, of people both waiting to pounce on you with ribbings of how you lack the magnanimity of the classics or the free thinking of the contemporaries --

Shitshitshitsmile! You did as you were told -- both by your brain, and by your manager earlier when they walked you through how you were to compose yourself through this entire ordeal. Just smile, enunciate when spoken to, and let the potential schmoozing flow and oh god, that Karen-looking lady who definitely owns a house in Martha’s Vineyard for when she wants to get away from her husband for a day totally hated that piece you’d spent months working on, didn’t she?!

The thought made your stomach twist, your already awkward smile along with it. You inhaled sharply. You had to find something to distract yourself with. 

You turned and faced the painting nearest to you. Some might call it vanity, but you were actually quite pleased with this particular piece. That, and its blueness gave you a sense of . . . serenity. You imagined the ripples washing over you and into you, the scent and sound of the painted environment gently caressing your nose and drowning out both the stench of perfume and pretentious chattering . . . And also, apparently, the sound of approaching footsteps.

You hadn’t realized anyone had joined your side until the rumble of a southern baritone carded through the water.

“It’s gorgeous. Isn’t it?”

You hadn’t meant to jump and appear so clumsy.

“Oh, sh -- ” You cut yourself short as you eyed the droplets of spilled, room temperature champagne. If your manager found out that you had cussed around a potential buyer, they would’ve mounted your head on the wall. Thankfully, however, the stranger didn’t appear at all fazed. If anything, the chuckle he responded with sounded genuinely amused.

“Oh, my dear girl, I’m terribly sorry!” he insisted, holding up his left hand. “I didn’t mean to scare you; I can imagine most anyone would be mighty transfixed over a piece like this.”

You gulped as you looked up at your unintentional scarer. His eyes were the same blue as the one that brought you calm just moments earlier, yet they had the almost opposite effect to you now. As you looked into them, you didn’t feel calm; not necessarily: Instead, you felt your heart beginning to ripple the pattern of the painting, your cheeks burning as bright as the gold swirling amongst the little waves. And yet you found yourself transfixed by them, only offered freedom when the older gentleman offered you a hint of a smile. A warm one.

Crap! Uh -- Answer his question! Think of something to say! your mind scrambled.

“Uh . . .” you stammered. The only way to save what atoms of confidence you still had left was to turn your eyes back to the painting. “I -- I should hope so.” Smooth. You tried to remember your calming breaths. You heard the man hum, shifting his position ever so slightly in your peripheral.

“What can you tell me about it?” he asked, revealing just how close to you he truly was. You could feel the warmth of his person and the richness of his voice vibrating into you. Or perhaps it was butterflies? Maybe both? Well, whatever it was, it almost made you stumble over your words. You’d spent the entire evening up to that point rehearsing stories of your inspirations, recounting whatever education you had to people who probably didn’t give a crap.

But this instance was different: Maybe it was foolishness sourced from a sudden and sophomoric attraction, but you almost wanted to believe that perhaps this man genuinely cared. That he was genuinely interested in what you as the actual artist had to say and not you as some painting mannequin made to recite lines over and over.

The excitement of such a possibility broke through your nerves . . . and, unfortunately, right out of your mouth.

“I just really wanted to paint a mermaid in a mall coin fountain,” you admitted. You wanted to kick yourself. Up until that point, you’d been rather proud of your nifty little idea. But when you said it out loud, you sounded ridiculous! You could barely hide the reactionary wince, much less how your breathing hitched and hiccuped with nervousness. Just as soon as it had come, the hope that perhaps this man was different disappeared, leaving you awaiting his ridicule.

A ridicule that never came. Instead, there was quiet between the both of you. Perhaps he was at a loss for words?

“Mm,” he hummed, making you tense with expectation. You glanced at him just enough to see him nod, his blue eyes still focused on the canvas before him. “Go on . . .”

You blinked. Was he . . . for real?

“I . . . What more is there to say?” you wondered. The entire night, nobody had really asked for more on your part. They usually just took whatever purple prose you gave them and left it at that. Your initial assumption was right after all: This gentleman was cut from a different cloth from the lot.

He pursed his lips and shrugged. “What inspired this?”

“Oh, uh . . . Well . . .” Was it worth telling him? Aw, hell: you’d already made a bit of a fool of yourself being honest, so what harm was there in doing it some more? “I did it because I never saw anything about a mermaid that lived in a mall fountain, collecting the coins people toss in there.”

You didn’t even have a chance to worry about his criticism before the man’s features broke into a smile. It wasn’t like the others’ more courteous grins; this one reached his eyes, making their icy coolness warm and welcoming. You hated the cheesiness of it all, but for a very split second you wished that you could be a mermaid in them.

He chuckled once again. “Can’t say that I’ve ever seen anything concerning a coin-hoarding mermaid myself, let alone a professional art piece.” It was small, but the assurance made you offer your own smile.

“Well . . . But then maybe I have . . .” At that, your heart dropped. There it was: The anticipated criticism. He thought you were a hack after all: Uninspired, boorish, unskilled, whatever word there was to describe a person who didn’t know how to use a fan brush properly if any.

The wound stung as one so sudden should: Heavily and down to your core. You wanted the floor to open up and eat you whole. Or better yet: You wanted to climb into your apparently uninspired painting and drown in the mall fountain. But none of those could be an option, and neither was the possibility of hiding in the bathroom or an empty corridor. Instead, you had to put on a brave face and do your best to get through the moment.

“Oh?” you uttered. Your throat pained from the threat of anxiety. “Where do you suppose? I’ll admit, I’m not much into contemporary art so I don’t know the what’s what of what if you catch my drift.” You tried to weakly smile at your sad attempt for a joke. God, this so wasn’t what “making it” felt like.

But the man didn’t offer a courteous hint of laughter. Nor did he offer you a verbal response. Instead, he turned to face you. You did the same, even though you really didn’t want to. But it was the polite and expected thing to do when being confronted. Damn politeness and courteousness.

You weren’t sure how to respond when the man began to make work of his right sleeve, unbuttoning the cuff and beginning to roll the rest of it up. Your paranoia was unfortunately the first to respond due to your preexisting discomfort of the entire ordeal of an evening. You were just about prepared to scream, yelp, make any kind of distressed call -- only for it to trickle out into a gasp. An amazed exhale. The image the man presented to you on his wrist was small. Clearly, for it to be recognized for what it was, it needed a larger stretch of skin to belong to. But you knew what it was: You knew those swirls, the placements of those flecks of gold, those blues and greens surrounded by white.

For the umpteenth time that evening, your breathing changed. Only, you were pretty positive that none of your deep breathing would be necessary this time around; you would be more than happy to look at your painting on your soulmate’s skin for the rest of the night.

Epilogue:

“Mr. Blanc, please,” you insisted. “You’ve grown up with that thing on your arm, surely you’re bored with it by now. You can have your pick of the gallery. Hell, I’ll even make you something on request!”

Pickings hadn’t become slim, but the night had ended surprisingly successful. Well, surprising to you: You hadn’t expected anyone to buy anything of yours that evening, let alone six. You supposed that perhaps they just wanted to participate in the elitism brought on by owning newcomer art. Benoit, however, insisted that the buyers simply had functioning eyes. What a sweet-talker your soulmate was.

You watched as he shook his head stubbornly, eyes still fixated on the painting that adorned his wrist. He’d seen all the other remaining paintings, and even the ones that wound up selling by evening’s end. They were all gorgeous, he insisted, but . . .

“Benoit, if you will, Ms. (Y/N),” he corrected, apparently missing the irony. He gestured insistently at the composition. “And no. I . . . I truly would be quite satisfied with this one.” He heard you raspberry in defeat as you made your way back to his side, folding your arms in exasperation. 

“Seriously, though,” you sighed. “Is a painting of a mermaid dwelling in, like, a fountain you can find nearby an Auntie Anne’s really . . .” You waved a hand as if searching for the right word. “. . . Befitting? Of a detective’s abode? I was thinking more of a bucolic piece or like a portrait of some kind or . . .” You trailed off, only to be met with an amused huff.

“Some detective I am,” Benoit muttered. He broke his gaze back to you and placed his hands on his hips. “Took me well over a damn decade or two to learn what it even was. And only because you told me!”

[lazyyogi]

Hi , how do you balance your spiritual experience and the very human experience as a doctor ? I understand& believe you can’t be apart from self .. but any tips ?

This is my first year as a resident and a constant challenge is self-concern. It can be stressful transitioning from being a student to being responsible for the wellbeing of very sick individuals. On top of that, we still have exams we need to pass, skills we need to acquire, presentations to give, research projects to advance, students to teach, and long hours with significantly less sleep and time off compared to our prior student life. 

Therefore it can become very slippery slope to just focus on yourself and only care about what impacts you positively or negatively. For example, it’s the end of a long day, you didn’t get much sleep the night before because you had to come into the hospital several times to see patients in the emergency room, and just when you’re getting ready to leave, you get called to the emergency room because a patient who was in a car accident has a massive laceration on their head that they need you to close. 

You might imagine that in this situation, you would think about the patient and their need for your skill and care and that you would feel enthused to swoop down to the emergency to fix them up and be a healer. But often the initial thought can be “Fuck! I was THIS close to getting out of here!”

Do you know why residents are called residents? Because we basically live at the hospital. 😂So this kind of mentality is not sustainable. If we fall into the habit of just wanting to get away from work, relaxing at home, and we get offended by any inconvenience that comes our way, we will be vastly unhappy and our patient care will suffer. 

This is why self-care is so important and why having a deliberate way of integrating it into our daily routine is essential. If you don’t have something in place, you will burn out. And even if you do, burnout can still happen. 

I am grateful that my program is very mindful of burnout and I have yet to see any of my co-residents hitting that wall. Personally I manage with doing maybe 10 minutes of yogic stretching when I come home every night, ideally 3 nights a week I will do a full yoga session, I do my meditation and tantric spiritual practices nightly (I’m working on injecting some of that into my morning routine as well), I make sure I eat at least two meals per day (breakfast and dinner), and try to get at least 5-6 hours of sleep on nights that I am not on call. 

There is a reason why I chose to become a doctor and it is not because I always dreamed of being one. This was a calculated decision. After college when I was living at home, directionless, but also going very deeply into my spiritual path, I realized that the most important thing to me was enlightenment. This was because I knew that society couldn’t give me anything that could last, only enlightenment could do that. 

This recognition then posed the question: Do I stay in society or leave society to pursue enlightenment full-time as something like a monk? Then I thought that if everyone who became spiritually switched on then left society, it would leave society in a pretty poor place. Just because society couldn’t give me anything doesn’t mean I cannot contribute something to our society. I want to remain here so that I can benefit society and I want to show people that you can dedicate your life to enlightenment even while still being in society. 

I chose becoming a doctor because I knew this was a way I could tangibly help others, financially sustain a place for myself in society, and also actively develop loving kindness and compassion. 

As such, the above mentioned challenge of self-concern is not something I care to allow and I am actively cutting through it as it arises in me. I chose medicine because it will constantly require me to work on myself even as I endeavor to benefit others. So it is just a matter of acknowledging challenges as they arise and finding creative solutions for succeeding them. 

In reality, there is no opposition between spiritual experience and human experience, there is only misunderstanding. The challenges that occur within you on a daily basis is the very path with which you are being presented. 

May all being be free 😊

LY

[allegra-writes]

"Cherry"

Peter Parker x SHIELD Agent! Reader

NSFW

Warnings: Smut. Dom!Peter, jealous, Possesive!Peter, rough sex.

Weeks after the island, Peter finally sees you again. But you aren't alone...

Part of the "Fine Line" series but you don't need to have read that first.

Series Masterlist

Peter couldn't breath. His clothes felt stiff and restrictive, the bowtie, suffocating. This was a bad, bad idea. He wasn't cut for this. He was just a Parker, not a Stark, he had spent most his life trying to be invisible, not even getting superpowers had changed that. He had never wanted to stand out. He didn't want to be seen, to be recognized. 

Even Quentin Beck had realized that. That's why he had done what he had, because he knew it would be the best way to ruin Peter's life. It had been almost a month since his return from Eroda, since Pepper and Fury had managed to clear his name and expose Quentin Beck as the fraud he was, trying to frame Peter for his murder with an adulterated video out of jealousy and envy. The greedy, insane employee gone mad after being overlooked in favor of the young intern, chosen by Tony Stark himself to be his successor. Spider-Man had just been doing his job as Peter's bodyguard when the incident at the bridge happened.

That was the official story, and the press had bought it with gusto, plastering the wide eyed boy's face on every cover, every paper, every magazine, every news site. A few weeks later, he was pretty much America's new sweetheart. Everybody knew his name. Everybody knew his face. His anonymity was gone.

Quentin Beck had won. 

And now, there he was, being blinded by flashing lights, walking the red carpet of his first gala as the official heir of Stark Industries… two seconds away from throwing up.

"Breathe, Peter" Pepper whispered to him, voice calm and reassuring, "Just focus on a point above their heads, and keep your head high" 

She took a step forward and Peter couldn't help but stare: she looked like a queen in her white gown, complete with cape and everything. She was an elegant woman but it wasn't just about her beauty, it was about the power, the authority she commanded, every eye in that red carpet had no choice but to focus on her. 

Tony had been like that too, albeit in a different way: charismatic and bigger than life. Peter wondered how anybody could look at him, awkward and pasty, and think he was related to the man. Because he knew what people were saying...

"Parker, how are you holding up, mate?" A tall, blond boy patted his back, pulling him out of his thoughts. Harry Osborn, the only person there to introduce himself to Peter and actually take the time to try and make him feel comfortable. At first Peter had thought it had something to do with his family being the one hosting the gala but the youngest Osborn wasn't exactly famous for his good manners or decorum. 

"I think I'm about to have a panic attack" more like sensory overload, but Peter wasn't sure how could he explain something like that to his new friend.

"Well, you are not hungover and puking on the photographers" The blond flashed him a brilliant smile, "so you're already doing better than me on my first red carpet"

Peter couldn't help the burst of laughter, but far from offended, Harry's grin turned even brighter. The flashes went wild.

"There you go, that should make for better photographs than the deer-in-the-headlights look you were sporting"

Peter offered him a grateful smile,

"Thanks dude, really"

"Don't mention it" Harry shook his head, "You're actually doing me a favor, letting me hang out with you. You're saving me from looking all lonely and pathetic in front of these vultures, since apparently I have been stood up..."

Peter stared at the blond in surprise. With those sharp cheekbones and icy blue eyes, it was hard to believe any girl could resist him. He suddenly felt a lot less bad about showing up dateless. 

"Alright, we've spent about fifteen minutes out here, we can go in now" Harry instructed, already a pro at this kind of event, gesturing for Peter to follow. 

He noticed the whispers as they walked into the massive lobby together, Oscorp and Stark Industries were rivals, just as Norman Osborn and Tony Stark used to be. His mentor used to find the other billionaire shady and his experiments, unethical. Even now, Pepper's and Norman's relationship was strained, at best, so seeing both heirs so friendly with each other was a little shocking. But if Harry didn't care about that, neither would Peter. Whatever sins the father had committed, he wasn't going to hold them against the son. That wasn't Peter's style. 

"So, what do you think of your first gala, so far?" Harry sauntered in front of him, stealing two champagne flutes from a passing waiter and handling one to Peter.

"Oh, I- I don't drink, thank you"

"Good, that's a wise choice, don't change it" Harry praised, taking the glass back and downing that one too. Peter shook his head.

"I like it," He replied, looking around at the huge salon decked in lavished green and silver banners, the tables gilded with intricate floral arrangements, the huge shiny dance floor in the middle. "Stark Industries' is having one for Christmas, but it's going to be held at a hotel…"

Harry made a face,

"Yeah, that would be the norm, actually. But my father wanted to have it here this year, to prove the facilities are safe, you know?"

Peter thought back to that fatidical field trip all those years ago, to this very same building, when he was bitten by a stray radioactive spider that had escaped one of the labs. He hummed noncommittally. He seriously hoped mister Osborn was right, for the good of everyone attending the party, Harry included. Because truth was he really liked his new friend, he made everything easier just by offering Peter his company, by giving him someone his age to talk too, amongst all those old, stuck up gazillionaires that stared at him with curiosity at best, and open contempt at worst. 

But of course all good things had to come to an end, such was the Parker luck. Harry took his vibrating cell phone out of his pocket.

"Would you look at that! It seems my date has finally arrived" He announced, eyes glued to the screen, smitten smile on his face, "One would think an influencer would jump at the chance of being photographed by the press at a red carpet… But not her, of course. No, she arrives an hour late… I'll go find her, be right back, Parker"

That was when he saw you. Entering the ballroom, a siren in your long golden dress, scanning the crowd. You looked stunning, hair longer, lighter, done in elegant waves cascading down your back.   Your smile was dazzling as you found what you were looking for, and Peter didn't see his new friend make his way to you, entranced as he was by your mere presence.

Until he reached your side, and kissed your lips. 

Harry Osborn offered you his arm, and you took it graciously, and he walked you through the room, proud swag on his steps as he introduced you to practically everyone in the party, Peter's heart breaking a little more with every step you took towards him.

He hadn't heard from you since the island, and now he knew why: You had already found someone new. Someone better, more handsome, and classier than Peter. Than the awkward boy you had been sent to protect. 

Because underneath the Stark's money and his spider powers, that was all Peter was: some orphan kid from Queens who didn't belong. Harry could take you on dates to fancy restaurants without mispronouncing the names of the dishes, he could take you walking around his mother's art gallery in the upper east. He, with his aristocratic features, his british boarding school accent, his old family money, was a much better fit for a princess like you. You wanting Peter had never made much sense anyway. 

And you looked good on Harry's arm, better than ever, actually. You looked happy. Peter hated it, and he hated himself for it. 

"Parker! I want you to meet my date, Sixtine Boucher, influencer, it girl, philanthropist..." Harry was saying, suddenly in front of him, but Peter wasn't listening. You were there, close enough to touch, in the flesh. He could hear your heartbeat, smell you, sunshine and sweetness under the chemical tang of your expensive perfume for the first time after so long and it was almost overwhelming.

"S-Sixteen?"

"Sixtine" You corrected him, sighing as if it was something you did all the time and you were tired of it, "Bonsoir, Peter."

You sounded… funny. 

"You know each other?" Harry's voice asked, politely curious.

"We met during vacation, at the…" You trailed off, eyes meeting Peter in a silent request to play along, disguised as a struggle to find the right words, “... Comment dis-tu ‘plage’ en anglais?”

"Beach" Provided Peter, his brain catching up at last "Yeah, at the beach… when I was on vacation… a-at the french riviera"

"What a small world!" Harry chuckled but it sounded nervous, uncertain. No doubt he could feel the tension between the two of you, growing with every passing second. Along with Peter's understanding. The hair, the dress, the french accent? It was a costume, you were a spy after all. You weren't there for leisure, you were there for work. This was a mission. Harry was your target, or maybe your cover. Whatever it was, it wasn't you. It wasn't real. 

But then again, had Peter really met the real you? After all, not that long ago he had been your mission too…

When the next waiter passed in front of him, Peter stopped him. It probably would no nothing to his spider metabolism, but alcohol was looking more and more like a good idea. He had a feeling he was going to need all the help possible to get through the night. Harry arched a brow but luckily didn't comment, as he was beginning to get a clearer idea about how you and the brown eyed boy knew each other.

A glint on your cleavage caught Peter's eyes and he frowned. There, hanging from a long gold chain, nested between your breasts and almost completely hidden by the, admittedly low cut, neckline of your dress, rested a familiar crystal sunflower. The cheap jewel didn't match your cover, or your outfit, the only reason why you could be wearing it, was him. 

He nodded, almost imperceptibly, letting you know he understood, and you let out the breath you were holding. 

But awareness didn't make watching you, plastered to Harry's side all night any easier. It didn't stop him from seeing red every time you called Harry "baby", the endearment close enough to the "baby boy" you used for Peter to feel like a betrayal. It definitely didn't save the glass of wine he was holding from shattering under his grip as he saw you sneak outside of the room with him in the middle of dinner.

"Peter! Are you alright?" Pepper fussed over his hand, looking for cuts, and motioning to a waiter to help clean the shards of glass from the table.

"Yeah" He murmured, distractedly, eyes never leaving the doorway you had disappeared through, "I-I'm sorry, you'll have to excuse me"

He didn't even wait for Mrs. Stark's reply as he got up from the table, giving chase to you and your date through corridors and elevators, following your giggles and the faint trace of your perfume. His persecution led him to the upmost floor of the building, where a single mahogany awaited him, but the fingertip scanner on the lock told him he wasn't going to be able to open it. 

He cursed, barely catching himself from making a dent on the wall with a punch. You were doing your job, that was all, he repeated, like a mantra. Whatever was happening behind that door meant nothing. You were wearing his sunflower, that had to mean something, it had to.

After a few minutes, that felt like hours to him, the door opened.

"Peter! Shit, I was hoping you would be smarter than to follow me!" You hissed, as he pushed you back, stepping inside the room and closing the door behind him.

"Where is Harry?" 

"Knocked out in the bathroom" You pointed at a door by the side. Peter took a look around the room, by far the biggest, most luxurious office he had ever seen in his entire life. And he had been inside Pepper's so that was saying something. The view of the Manhattan skyline through the floor to ceiling window was nothing short of breath taking. "I just needed him to get in here"

"Right. Of course. I knew that" 

You squinted in suspicion at his flat tone,

"Pete, are you… jealous?" You smirked, amused. But Peter wasn't in the mood for your teasing, his patience finally reaching its limit.

He was on you in a heartbeat, pushing you back against the wall, caging you with his body. There was a dangerous, possessive spark in his eyes that you had never seen before. One that promised trouble for you. 

"So what if I am?" He challenged, bracing himself on one hand on the wall next to your head, the other one slipping through the high slit on the skirt of your dress, fingertips digging on the sensitive skin at the inside of your thighs, "So what if every time I saw him put his hands on you tonight, I wanted to break his fingers? What if every time he kissed you, I felt like dying?" 

The pain was evident in his voice, breaking your heart a little. But this was you, you were a special agent, this was what you did. Peter had said he wanted you, wanted to get to know the real you. Well, this was it. 

"I'm not going to apologise for doing my job…" 

"I'm not asking you to" He interrupted

"Then what are you asking of me?" 

Peter pinned you with a long, considering look and you did your best not to squirm under its intensity.

"I'm not asking anymore, mon chérie " he finally spoke, "I'm taking"

He crushed his mouth, and his body, to yours, trapping you under his familiar weight and, for the first time since returning from the island, you felt home. He tasted like wine, and the cherries from dessert and heat. You had almost forgotten how his warmth felt like sunlight against your skin, until every starved pore opened to soak him up. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, making you moan. God, how you had missed him on your lips! 

You must have said it out loud, because you felt his smile against your jaw as he broke the kiss to let you breathe. 

"Did you, now?" He inquired, nuzzling down your neck, "Where else did you miss me, cherry?" 

You felt his long, talented fingers find their goal, tugging your underwear to the side, slipping into you with no warning once he realized how ready you already were for him.

"Did you miss me here? Did you miss me inside you?" 

There was a buzzing in your coms and the reality of what was about to happen, andwhere it was about to happen hit you like a bucket of cold water. 

"Peter, wait, not here!" Peter ignored you, lips latching onto the spot just under your ear that Peter knew made you see stars. He couldn't wait, couldn't tear himself away from you, from your body. You were already breathing hard and he knew your halfhearted resistance wasn't going to last much longer. He speeded up the movement of his fingers inside you, tearing an involuntary cry out of your mouth. He was working you expertely, wave after wave of wetness bathing his hand, undeniable proof of your pleasure. 

"Gonna leave so many pretty marks on you..." He promised, puncturing his words by biting down, hard, on the column of your neck, "Everybody's going to know who you really belong to..."

"Peter, please!" You sobbed, implored.

"Want me to stop baby girl? Really?"

You shook your head no. You didn't, you couldn't. Fuck the mission, fuck Oscorp, you only wanted to feel him. It had been too long, way too long. You took your coms out of your ear and smashed it under your hill. You'd deal with Hill later. 

Peter slid the straps of your dress down your shoulders, lowering his face to your exposed chest, all wet lips and hot tongue as you hurriedly undid his button and zipper, finally freeing his angry, hard member. You pumped him once, and he bit on your nipple with enough strength to draw a single, sweet drop of blood. 

"Oh god… feels so good" Peter's words were muffled against your collar bone, as he stretched you, burying himself deep inside you, as far as he would go, "being one with you again…"

"I missed you" You confessed, "so much, baby boy!"

Peter leaned back, stormy eyes capturing yours, holding you hostage,

"Oh no, my cherry, after your little stunt calling Harry baby all night?" He tsked, "No, you don't get to call me that anymore… now, you're gonna call me 'daddy'"

With that, he started thrusting up into you roughly, hips almost cruel in their onslaught as they slammed into you, truly railing you against the wall, unyielding, unrelenting. You wrapped your arms and legs around him, holding on for dear life, taking what he gave you like a good girl cause that was what Peter needed from you. 

But god, did it feel good! His large thick cock, hard as vibranium, stretching you to your limits, a fit so tight you could feel every bump, every vein, as he hit all the secret spots inside you, tearing the pleasure out of you. Your orgasm was building fast, so fast it made you dizzy with the way all your blood rushed to your center. As your walls began to quiver around him, and you met Peter's fierce, furious face, you knew he wasn't going to be satisfied with just the one. Oh, no, he was going to rip out at least one more orgasm from your ravished body before releasing you. Undoubtedly not before marking you from the inside with his own release, you had long ago learned Peter was animalistic like that, all higher reasoning disappearing when it came to making you his. 

"Tell me you're mine" he breathed, demanding, against your cheek, hand sneaking between your bodies to tease your pearl, making you explode in sensation, and prolonging your climax, keeping you there where he wanted you, right on your peak until you were at the edge of sanity, your brain unable to process that much pleasure so suddenly and for so long.

You tried, but you couldn't remember how to form words, the only sound leaving your lips a delirious,

"Peter!"

"Say it, my cherry" he insisted, feeling his own release approach much quicker than he would like, but it just had been so long, and he had missed you so much and you just felt so fucking good  "let me hear you say you're mine as I make you come again…"

"Yes!" You cried, finally finding your voice, "I'm yours, Peter… only yours!"

"Damn right… all mine… only mine…"

He was almost there, and judging from the way your muscles were tensing and locking around him again, Peter knew you were too. But something was going on outside, his super hearing catching the sound of the elevator doors, and footsteps on the hallway. Still, he couldn't stop. He was so close, so fucking close… He had to come, had to make you come, before they did. There were voices outside, one of them he even recognized, telling the others to stop, to listen. Peter sneaked an arm around your waist, getting you away from the wall, moving you up and down his cock at inhuman speed, and he finally felt you fall apart. He came with a final cry of triumph… right as the doorknob started to turn. 

Faster than any human could, he ran behind the door, with you still in his arms, to buy himself a couple of seconds as he slipped out of you, fixing your dress so you were completely covered before even thinking about tucking himself back inside his pants. 

"Oh, for fucks sake!" Norman Osborn's exasperated voice was the first thing your pleasure addled brain was able to process as you stood on shaky legs, Peter's frame still hiding you from view. He took of his suit jacket, helping you put your hands through the sleeves and fastening it close.

"Put down your weapons, you goons! High security breach?.. Horny teenagers are not a menace, I should know!" Norman was still yelling at his guards. Peter turned around to face the old man, and you muffled your histerical laugh against his sweaty back, breathing him in. 

"S-sir… sorry, we-we we-were just" Peter babbled, trying to catch his breath.

"Oh, save it, boy! I know exactly what you were doing, this whole place stinks of sex!" 

You snorted and Norman finally seemed to notice who you were,

"I'm sorry, weren't you my son's date?"

You could only laugh harder.

"He passed out" provided Peter, as innocently as he managed, "in the bathroom"

"He's in the…" the billionaire's eyes widened, "Wait, you… you three were…"

"He really liked Peter" You announced, unhelpfully, fake accent restored. 

"Ignore her, please" Peter sounded apologetic, not wanting the blonde boy that had so kindly offered his friendship to him to face unjust consequences for his own fuck up "Harry has nothing to do with this. My girlfriend was just trying to make me jealous. It worked. Harry's only mistake was to get drunk"

Norman rolled his blue eyes, so alike his son's,

"A common mistake for him. Trust me, boy, you don't need to make excuses for him… God knows I got tired of making them myself a long time ago." He sighed, gesturing to his guards to check on Harry inside the bathroom.

"Now, get out of here, both of you, so I can call the cleaning crew… not Tony's son my ass, this is the exact same shit your father used to pull at all my parties!"

Peter opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, but you tugged on his arm, it was pointless to try and deny it, Osborn senior was never going to believe him. 

Peter took your hand,

"Right. Of course… we'll be… going, then"

You chuckles at his cute, nervous babbling became a full on belly splitting laugh as you ran out of the office and locked yourselves inside the elevator. 

"Oh my god, his face!" You clutched at your stomach, doubled over, "that was… the best alibi in history! They didn't even search me!!" You showed Peter the tiny pendrive with S.H.I.E.L.D's logo where you had copied all the information inside Norman Osborn's computer. Peter tilted his head in confusion,

"Six, where were you even keeping that?!" Osborn's security might ot have searched you, but his own had been… pretty thorough. 

You merely winked, 

"Wouldn't you like to know, weather boy?"

This time, it was Peter's turn of barking a laugh. He pulled you to him, kissing your forehead.

"Come on, let's find Happy and tell him to get the car. I want to get out of here…"

And he was taking you home with him. 

To be continued...

[moved-to-void-kissed]

Secrets in the Springs

Document link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1WDYCocrod_P7bcyH9DIaacjpIXv9I8r-UEkdmWANdxw/edit?usp=sharing

Sapphire, Pyra, Mythra, Nia and Poppi spend an evening relaxing together in Mor Ardain’s famous hot springs, where a couple of secrets begin to reveal themselves. In the process, Pyra makes an important decision. (1650 words) Replaces the XC2 cutscene “Secret in the Springs” from the start of Chapter 4. Content warning for some description of an old significant physical injury.

Tag list (use this to be added to it!): @softskiesahead | @dragonsmooch | @thatslikesometaldude | @lilacslovers | @insomniaships | @goldenworldsabound | @setzale | @candyforthebrain | @elf-and-a-heart

This is a piece I originally posted to my old blog, but I’ve updated it slightly to reflect some changes to the storyline and figured it would be good to post again! Don’t worry, it’s mostly much happier than the previous writing I posted here - especially once you get to the end, hehe~

Reblogs are appreciated, but by no means required! Comments should be on, and there’s also a transcript of the document under the readmore!

The sandstorms from earlier in the day had thankfully settled down - the evening was still very warm, but a soft wind drifting through Alba Cavanich made the heat much more pleasant. Behind the inn that rested on Smùide Mountain, the group had taken the opportunity to relax in the local hot springs - Rex and Tora had gone earlier in the evening and appeared much more refreshed for the experience, but now it was the ladies’ bathing slot, and all of them were eager to spend the evening enjoying a relaxing bath together.

Sapphire in particular was not used to the arid conditions on Mor Ardain’s Titan, given that her homeland within Uraya was a much more subdued and watery kingdom, so she also relished the opportunity to try out the hot springs. By the time she had gotten ready, Poppi was already happily playing about in the springs, while Nia had her back to the entrance and only her head was above the water. Finally, Sapphire tentatively poked her head around the corner of the changing room, so that it was all that could be seen from within the baths themselves.

“It’s just us here, right?”

“Yeah, don’t worry!” Nia turned her head to smile, though Sapphire did think she looked somewhat nervous. “The inn seemed pretty much empty when we first got here, so I don’t reckon anyone else’ll be coming in.”

Poppi nodded in agreement. “Probability of interruption from other people very small. Therefore, is perfect time for all to enjoy springs together. The water very nice temperature, even for Poppi!”

“Hang on.. Should you even be in the bath?” Nia had turned back to face the mechanical girl, and was now looking at her with a tilted head to show confusion. “Won’t you rust or something?”

In response, Poppi shook her head and kept smiling, eyes bright as ever. “There no problem. Poppi made from special alloy. No rust or need for oil!” The faint orange glow of her leg joints was visible even through the water, showing that she was kicking them back and forth in her usual manner.

Sapphire smiled at this, only to then jump when she realised Pyra was standing right behind her. Except it wasn’t Pyra - where she expected to see kind red eyes instead lay cold golden ones, and the familiar short bob of red hair was replaced by flowing blonde strands.

“Wh- Mythra?!”

“Yeah?” She looked unamused.

“Sorry, mate, you really startled me there!”

Wanting to give Mythra some space, Sapphire stepped out from behind the entrance to the changing room into the proper springs area, prompting Poppi to look surprised and Nia to turn around because of that. Although she still had a towel around her body, the other girls could now all see several swathes of what looked like very old grazes on Sapphire’s arms and the backs of her legs. They seemed to have healed, yet still appeared somewhat serious.

“Wait, what happened to you?!” Mythra was first to speak up, sounding more worried than she ever really had. Her usual short temper still shone through, however - she seemed almost annoyed for not noticing the injuries beforehand.

“Oh, these?” Sapphire raised her arms halfheartedly, looking somewhat embarrassed. “Don’t worry. These are just left over from.. how I got to Uraya. Don’t worry, most of it’s all healed up by now. So nothing’s going to mess up the water or anything, I promise.”

There was a silence.

“..I guess I never told you guys about that, huh.”

“No, you didn’t. Not that I was awake for, anyway.” said Mythra.

“You don’t ‘ave to tell us if you don’t want to, though.” Nia added. “Only share what you’re comfortable with.”

Sapphire nodded. “Thanks, Nia. Um.. this isn’t exactly the place to go all in-depth about that kind of thing, so, ah.. I’ll just say that, from what I know, my parents and I were on a ship crossing the Cloud Sea when it capsized and got washed into Uraya’s Titan. A bit like you guys did, I guess, though there was.. a lot more of an impact. Honestly, I don’t even know how I managed to stick around long enough for Dad and his mercs to find me on one of their checkups.”

“Oh.. Are you sure you’re okay? That must have been hard..” continued Mythra, still looking worried. There was a flash of glowing energy, and suddenly Pyra was stood in her place, looking even more concerned.

“I’m so sorry for what happened to you, Sapphire! Nobody should have to go through such a horrible thing..”

“Pyra, please, I’m fine! It’s okay!” Sapphire said, a little too suddenly - quickly realising her mistake, she hastily tried to recover: “I- I really appreciate that you care so much, but, I promise I’m fine. Come on, let’s just enjoy the springs together.”

As she turned around to put her towel on the rocks behind her before lowering herself into the blissfully warm water, the true extent of Sapphire’s injuries became clearer - the old grazes were nothing in comparison to the massive streak of half-healed scar tissue covering most of her back and shoulders. Parts of it seemed to somehow reflect the low light from the torches and the glow of Poppi and Pyra’s Core Crystals, as if there were tiny specks of something shiny in there.

Nia’s worried expression had returned. “Saph, that really doesn’t look good.. You sure you’re alright?”

“Yes!” She still seemed slightly on-edge, but being in the water was clearly very relaxing for her. “I already said, it doesn’t really hurt. I’ve had all this for as long as I can remember; it’s just how I am. Trust me, it was a lot worse when I was little.”

“Poppi worried about Sapphire..” said Poppi, sounding sad. The stillness of the water and the glowing lights visible under its surface showed that she wasn’t playing about anymore.

“Aww, it’s okay, Poppi!” Sapphire turned and smiled at her again. “I’m fine, honestly!”

Pyra still wasn’t convinced. “You’d tell us if you weren’t, though, right..?” She crouched down at the side of the water and reached over to take Sapphire’s hand in her own.

“Of course I would, silly. Come on in, the water is amazing..”

This made Pyra feel more at ease, and she happily took the chance to sit next to Sapphire, who in turn was all the more grateful to be able to enjoy Pyra’s natural warmth in close proximity. Another silence then settled, though this one was much more natural, and the girls were able to take the time to properly enjoy the heat of the water and relax in the hot springs.

Eventually, never the quiet one, Poppi had something to say.

“Poppi has question for Nia.”

“Huh?”

“Why does Nia have-?” The artificial Blade’s inquisitive tone was quickly interrupted by none other than Nia herself, who at this point was almost entirely submerged in the water.

“Oh, I know what you’re gonna say, I think. Don’t- don’t worry about it.”

At this point, Mythra returned, automatically shifting away from Sapphire as she turned to face Nia herself. “I had noticed, too. It’s true, then, that you’re..?” She trailed off, not knowing how to properly word her own question.

“Mmm.. yeah.”

Mythra nodded. “Do you want us to keep it a secret?”

“I was.. a little bit embarrassed about all this, but.. Yeah, if you could, that’d be grand. Not like I could hide it here when it’s this dark, anyway. As long as you guys are all okay with me being here, then-”

“Of course, mate!” “Poppi is fine!” “Why wouldn’t we?”

The chorus of reassuring voices brought her an incredible comfort.

“Thanks, guys.”

==========

Later that evening, once everyone had retired to their rooms for the night, Mythra noticed within herself that Pyra seemed nervous.

“Something wrong?���

“What? No! I mean.. We share memories, so you’d know if something was wrong, surely?”

“I guess that’s true. But, you seemed like you were coming to a decision of some kind. And I mean, I don’t really wanna pry if I don’t have to.”

“Haha, thank you for that.. And, you’re right about the decision. So, um, Mythra - what do you think about Sapphire?”

“Uh.. she seems pretty nice? But she isn’t someone you want to make angry, given how mad she was at Malos and Akhos. I wasn’t awake yet for all that time you two spent journeying through Uraya, so this was kind of the first time I’ve gotten to interact with her properly. I can’t say I was expecting you to get into a relationship, but.. You two make a good fit for each other, even if she is a little more energetic than you tend to be.”

“You really think so?”

“Wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t.”

“Ah, I suppose you’re right.. Sorry!”

“Why’d you ask that, anyway?”

“Well, it’s just, um.. It was so great for me to know that she’d be able to come with us after we left Uraya. I know she’s probably still worried about Vandham, but.. if his injuries have really been patched up as well as they seemed to, then he should recover without too much of a problem, right?”

“Yeah, Nia said Dromarch was able to get him stable once I took Obrona out and the ether came back.”

“Right, that was it. And, um.. Since we’ve been here in Mor Ardain, I’ve been thinking about something, and.. after that time we all spent together tonight, and being around her like that, I think I’ve figured it out. Sapphire is the person I really want to be with, for the rest of my life. ..However much longer that even ends up being.

I have no idea how I’m going to go about it, but..

I think I’m going to ask her to marry me.”

[jungjaehyunnies]

broken promises; j.jh

☆ summary: nobody ever told you that falling out of love was just as easy as falling in love. ☆ genre: fluff, angst, slight smut ☆ warnings: mentions of alcohol, swearing, sex ☆ word count: 3.3k+ ☆ note: happy birthday to my favourite person in the world c: this is also my first nct fic :o <333

The first time you recalled feeling your heart jumping out of your ribcage was the fourth time you met him.

You and Jaehyun only ever interacted through Mark, your high school acquaintance turned closest college friend and Jaehyun’s basketball teammate. With conversations limited to polite nods and smiles and small talk before one of you would walk away to class, he rarely crossed your mind.

That was, until you’d stayed out late studying in the library one night and came across Mark and Jaehyun practicing at the basketball court halfway to your dorm. And Jaehyun was sweaty… but hot and sleeveless. And when Mark convinced you to stay back an extra twenty minutes for them to finish up so that you wouldn’t need to walk across the dark campus alone, you’d perhaps spent too much ogling at how his biceps flexed with each movement he made, whether he was attempting to shoot or defending himself.    

You couldn’t quite remember how Mark had been able to convince you to join him in a small match against Jaehyun (two vs. one because he had the height advantage amongst you three); it was something to do with Jaehyun apparently being a competitive asshole who absolutely needed to prove that he was better than both you and Mark playing together.

Oh yeah, he was definitely competitive, you realised within thirty seconds when you were bulldozed onto the ground by a heavy weight and you fell straight onto your ass, pain shooting up your spine.

You fell just a little bit in love when he held your hand to pull you back up to your feet, with soft, apologetic eyes that seemed to pierce through your soul and a promise to make it (‘it’ being your bruised tailbone) up to you some time within the next week or so. 

The next time it happened was when he held true to his promise and took you to a twenty-four hour coffee shop just outside of campus, purchasing you the biggest cup of coffee they offered as well as a slice of strawberry cheesecake and keeping you company for seven hours.

Exam season was around the corner, and you were both stressed. You were ready to pull your hair out. Studying had become a chore, but you just needed to manage for another two weeks.

Jaehyun didn’t seem to mind though. He picked up on your small signs and studied quietly with you, only taking the occasional break to ask if you wanted some more cake or coffee, or to make small talk and discuss briefly about your classes. Neither of you took the same classes, but you took comfort in the fact that you both tried to help each other where possible. 

By the time it was past midnight, you could tell he was tired of studying. You didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered constantly around the café, how he started dozing off every few minutes before blinking his eyes open, and how his handwriting had become sloppier with each line.

Despite that, he kept you company and walked you back to your dorm.

“You really didn’t need to walk me back,” you said. Although you were very grateful he had done so, you felt guilty for taking up his time when he was clearly ready to knock out. “I feel bad now though, do you live close by, at least?”

“It’s fine,” Jaehyun responded, lips pressed into a cute, closed-mouth smile that made you want to squish his peachy cheeks. His ears were tinted red, he glanced at you shyly and admitted, “I actually live in the dorm near the café. Same building as Mark.”

That was a twenty-minute walk back.

“But, really, I don’t mind,” he insisted. “This was nice. We should meet up again after exams are over.”

With the promise to meet up again without the need to study, he engulfed you in a hug that filled you with so much warmth, you were sure you’d stopped breathing.

The third time you experienced that feeling, you were both half-drunk at an end-of-exams party.

You may have been half-drunk but you were sober enough to be dragging Mark back to his dorm together. You and Jaehyun had wrapped your arms around the dead weight between the two of you that was struggling to walk in a straight line and ready to pass out.

You groaned as Mark’s knees wobbled and threatened to give out under him.

“I told him to eat dinner properly before the party but he never listens to me,” Jaehyun grumbled, heaving more of Mark’s weight onto his shoulder to relieve you of the pressure. “Fucking dumbass.”

With a huff, you complained right back at Jaehyun, “If you took it easier on us during beer pong, he wouldn’t be dying like this.”

Jaehyun was unbelievably talented at beer pong and had looked way too unbelievably attractive across the table when you three had been playing. It was unfair.

“It’s not my fault you guys suck,” he pouted in response. “Besides, Johnny was the one who made him chug two bottles of soju in a row after beer pong.”

You sighed in defeat. He was right. You’d all lost count of how much Mark had to drink, who was way too desperate and excited to let loose after the stress of exams.

Getting Mark’s keys out of his pockets and into bed took a lot of grumbling, dry heaving and whining before your friend finally knocked out. You watched through tired eyelids that threatened to close shut as Jaehyun placed a few pills and a bottle of water by Mark’s bedside.

He was a sweet friend, and your drunken mind couldn’t help but wonder what he’d be like taking care of someone more than a friend.

“He’s going to feel like shit tomorrow,” Jaehyun spoke softly, as the two of you walked out of Mark’s dorm and closed the door behind him. “And uh…” he trailed off.

“Hm?”

“I don’t want to sound too forward, but you can stay at mine tonight if you want,” he said, all in one breath, words slurring together from the rush. It took you a few seconds to process what he had just said, and when you looked up at him, his ears were tinted pink again.

Cute.

“Only because it’s past two now,” Jaehyun reasoned, “And you look so tired and it’s not safe for you to walk back alone in the dark right now.”

You were hesitant, but ready to take the offer. You were indeed very exhausted, your feet hurt from walking and dancing around in heels all night, and the alcohol (and also dragging Mark here) was draining all the energy out of you.

But… spending the night in Jaehyun’s dorm? Even half-drunk, you knew that was possibly not the best idea.

Gnawing at your bottom lip nervously, you said, “I don’t want to impose though.”

Jaehyun shook his head. “You won’t be,” he responded before offering you a cheeky grin. “Besides, we can wake up Mark tomorrow and make him buy us breakfast for dragging his ass home tonight.”

A giggle escaped from you as you agreed, looking forward to the nagging and teasing you would put Mark through tomorrow morning.

It took a lot of arguing between Jaehyun (who insisted on sleeping on the couch) and yourself (who felt too guilty to allow him to do that after he offered you his shower and clean clothes), before you both settled on his mattress. You promised him that you would pay for his next meal and coffee for letting you stay over for the night.

Just before you dosed off, you felt Jaehyun’s fingers thread through your hair delicately and heard him murmur, “You’re so gorgeous.”

Each time you ended up meeting up with Jaehyun, you found that the two of you continually made promises before each farewell to pay the other back. Walks back to your dorm slowly progressed into lingering touches and attending every one of his basketball games, which then became pet names and stolen kisses between classes and during study dates over the months.

One night, he dragged you to the amusement park a half hour away from campus, promising to win you all the plushies you wanted. His fingers stayed intertwined with yours for the whole night, thumb rubbing circles over the back of your hand whenever you got the slightest bit nervous over a thrilling ride.

You tried not to express your disappointment when he eventually let go of your hand so that he could hold an ice cream cone in one hand and a giant sloth plushie in his other arm. Your disappointment didn’t last long, though, when you eventually found yourself in a small gondola of a ferris wheel that hovered over the pretty night lights, cuddled up in his arms.

“Can I try some of yours?” Jaehyun asked, referring to your half-eaten cookie dough ice cream.

When you nodded absentmindedly and lifted your waffle cone up, you didn’t expect for Jaehyun to press his lips against yours. It took all your self-control to not let go of your cone and to thread your fingers through his fluffy hair as you melted against him.

Just as you were ready to press up closer to him, the cheeky bastard pulled away. Before you could blink, he’d taken a massive bite out of your cone with a grin and said, “Mmmm, yummy.”

“Jae!” you gasped in disbelief. About half the remaining of your cone was gone.

Jaehyun giggled, showing off his dimples, and pecked your lips softly.

“I’ll buy you a whole tub tomorrow, I promise,” he murmured, making it up to you, his nose nudging your cheek. “Happy birthday, baby.”

For someone who had a cute, peachy, dimply face, your boyfriend sure had a body that screamed quite the opposite, and it was still mildly surprising to you after all this time together.

“Mmm, I love you,” Jaehyun murmured, soft lips pressed up against your neck and his hips pressed right up against yours.

A gentle pull at his hair elicited a delightful groan from him as you muttered, “You’re only saying that because your dick is in me right now.”

“Say it back,” he whined in response, the movements of his hips coming to a halt as he tickled your waist. God, he was so needy, but you weren’t going to complain because you secretly loved it. Just not when you were just about to experience a mindblowing orgasm.

You squirmed under his grip, laughing but refusing to give in. “Baaabeeee,” he drawled, “Say you love me back.”

“Maybe I will after you fuck me and make me cum,” you said and wiggled your hips, “Or I’m never saying it back.”

Jaehyun gripped your thigh, lifting your leg around his strong back and you bit back a moan from how wonderful he felt inside of you even with that slight movement. “I can do that,” he murmured, before slanting his lips against yours, tongue delving into your mouth as he slammed back into you and eventually brought you to a delightful state that had you seeing stars.

Another round later, you were too exhausted to do anything but curl up in Jaehyun’s strong arms and seek out his warmth. “I love you a lot,” you mumbled, eyes closing shut, as you kissed his chest. “You’ll wake me up before you go for practice in the morning, right?”

“Of course I will, baby, I promise.”

Those promises were nice, until they became meaningless.

You broke your promises to attend each of his games as your workload picked up over the next semester, and Jaehyun broke his promises of waking you up each morning before he left for practice.

And, both of you eventually broke promises to keep each other around and to love one another forever.

You weren’t sure when the cracks started appearing and when you’d started falling apart, but you guessed it was inevitable to slowly fall out of love at one point, but you hadn’t expected it to happen so fast and so easily.

It started off with less dates and less sleepovers. You could blame that on both of your insane schedules at college, but in the end, despite how busy you were, you knew you both should’ve made time for each other.

Somehow, updating Jaehyun about your days (which weren’t very eventful) suddenly became a chore. You got the feeling that he felt similarly, as he started responding to your texts much later and later, sometimes even a day’s delay between your messages. But, you were too stubborn to let go of what the two of you had.

At one point, you’d realised that the two of you hadn’t even had sex for two months. If Jaehyun wasn’t too tired from basketball or practice, you were too stressed over your studies. Sex used to help you both relieve from your exhaustion and stress on top of showing each other how much you loved each other, but now, it wasn’t even an afterthought.

Stolen kisses between classes eventually stopped too, and your goodbye smiles started feeling more forced and effortful.

Almost out of obligation, the two of you went to a nice restaurant to celebrate your one-year anniversary, and things almost seemed back to normal. Like a spark reignited.

You’d dressed up nicely and he looked as handsome as ever. You were, for once, able to catch up on each other’s busy schedules and enjoyed a meal together finally.

But, eventually, when you found yourself back in his dorm, hands and knees on his mattress, as he pounded into you from behind, you couldn’t help but wonder if the two of you were just using each other at this stage.

No soft ‘I love you’’s or teasing, no alternations between rough and soft sex, and no whispered sweet nothings this time. Just the sounds of panted breaths, skin slapping against skin, and the final moans of release at the end.

Aftercare seemed like a routine, like muscle memory, as the two of you engaged in the same motions you had done so familiarly months ago. 

You and Jaehyun tried cuddling, but eventually you both fell asleep facing away from each other. When you woke up, he had already left for practice.

Weeks of overthinking had you gnawing nervously at your nails, shaking in stress (perhaps that was from your insane caffeine intake too, but you weren’t sure at this point), and pulling at the ends of your hair. 

You hated to admit it, but you knew that it was over. You weren’t stupid. You just didn’t want to let go of it.

You finally broke down to Mark over a tub of cookie dough ice cream. Mark was so panicked and taken aback from seeing you cry out of nowhere as you two walked to the library from your shared class, that he bought you ice cream, bubble tea and three slices of strawberry cheesecake before dragging you to his place.

He offered you his blankets, his hugs and all his snacks, while he shooed his roommate outside the dorm.  

“Do you know what Jaehyun thinks of me?” you mumbled pathetically, shoving another spoonful of ice cream into your mouth.

“Uh, I-“ Mark seemed hesitant to respond. From his curious gaze, you figured that Jaehyun hadn’t spoken to him about whatever relationship problems you guys had. “He’s your boyfriend. He loves you. He’s so in love with you, Y/N.”

No, he’s not.

You stayed silent, too embarrassed to say anything, and curled up under the blanket he’d offered you, staring blankly at his TV screen until you dosed off.

Jaehyun, 11:07pm: We need to talk. Can I come over tonight?

You weren’t sure how long you spent staring at that small notification on your screen, but eventually, you agreed, despite every fibre of your body begging you to respond with ‘no’. Couldn’t you keep him for at least a little bit longer?

You waited anxiously after class, waiting for a knock on your dorm door. That feeling of your heart slamming against your ribcage returned, but it didn’t feel good this time.

It felt heartbreaking, because you knew how this was going to end.

When your boyfriend arrived at past nine, he looked at you with a grim expression that showed he was just as exhausted as you were.

“Mark told me what happened yesterday. I’m really sorry,” Jaehyun said, fiddling with the ends of his sleeves. “He told me to fix this and I am. We should end this.”

Jaehyun looked into your eyes earnestly. “I really love you, Y/N. I really did, you have to believe me, and I do still want to, but I don’t- I don’t know what happened,” he added, voice quivering with the last few words as he reached up to brush a tear away from your cheek. 

He was a soft person, and he tended to cry when others cried as well.

Within seconds, you found yourself back in his warm embrace again, your tears soaking his hoodie while his own ran down his cheeks. You hesitantly brought your arms around his waist. If this was going to be how it ended, you didn’t want to finish this off on bad terms. 

“I know, Jae,” you said, pulling away slightly to look up at him in understanding. “I think we both knew this was coming.”

We were just too cowardly to admit it.

“I’m so sorry. You deserve so much better than me.”

When you tried denying that and shaking your head, Jaehyun placed his hands firmly on your shoulders, eyes red and cheeks puffy as he looked into your eyes. “You are! You’re an amazing person with a beautiful personality, and you’ll find someone better who won’t break their promise of keeping you around forever. They won’t be an idiot like me… and if they are, I’ll beat their ass.”

You couldn’t help but laugh even in this situation. “You’re not an idiot,” you argued weakly, wiping his tears from his cheeks as well. “You were the best boyfriend I could’ve asked for. I just- I don’t know… I don’t know how we got here either. I’m sorry, too.”

Jaehyun managed to crack a smile. “I don’t know either. We’re both idiots,” he said and pulled you in for another warm hug.

It felt comforting this time.

The breath you let out almost felt like one of relief. You’d loved him so much and ended up being so terrified of losing him that you held onto him as your boyfriend, and yet this felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

“I don’t want to lose you, though,” you admitted. “I’m okay with this but… I don’t think I can lose you.”

Even if you’d fallen in love with him, you weren’t sure you could go around with life without him. He’d wormed his way into your heart and your daily life, and you knew he would be an amazing friend, despite the history. You couldn’t bear to imagine what it would be have a Jaehyun-sized hole in your life from here onwards. 

Jaehyun stayed silent and held onto you for a few more minutes before the two of you let go of each other. He took a step back outside your dorm, as if clearly setting the new boundaries now.

“Let’s take some time apart. I think some space will be good for us,” he suggested, reasonable as ever. With a soft smile that displayed his dimples to you for the last time in a while, Jaehyun added, “We’ll be friends after that, I promise.”

But, promises were made to be broken.