#AND IF I LEAVE A DETAILED FUCKING NOTE ABOUT WHY YOU SHOULDN'T DO THE THING

[sergeant-angels-trashcan]

Just experienced THEEEEEEE most transcendent rage at a coworker 5 minutes before I clocked out. My soul left my body. I got so angry in such a short span of time it made me HUNGRY

[whoskimii]

Could you Do a Kinda detailed makeout with Gojo! 🤠

yummy i love that :3

⋆౨ৎ˚ notes > satoru x you. basically a heavy and steamy makeout with your manzz <33 think we all need that! he knows he's fine frfr. tell me if i missed anything!! ^^ ౨ৎ warning : you may have butterflies in your belly while reading this!! 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

satoru had never been an insecure guy. whether it's about his looks or even you, his girlfriend. hell, he even loves showing his pretty baby off. he's always been confident.

but the way that guy looked at you in public didn't sit right with him. that fucker seemed to have a ring on his finger and he looked much older than you. ew.

your boyfriend could swear he was eye-fucking you. if it wasn't for your boyfriend at your side, he was sure that he would've done much worse than just looking at your ass. satoru wasn't having any of it.

he brought you back home and you could sense that he was pissed. like, actually pissed. but not at you, obviously. it wasn't your fault if you were so, so pretty :( he was mad at that gross bastard. and he definitely needed something to calm down. turns out that something was you.

that's why you found yourself on your boyfriend's lap, arms around his neck as his tongue explored your mouth. your pants were off. your panties were the only thing covering your wet little folds from his greedy fingers.

you whimpered softly into the kiss as you felt his bulge pressing against your core. the friction between your panties and his sweatpants was delicious, to say the least. you felt like you could come from this alone.

your hips instantly reciprocated and you began grinding against him as your pretty manicured hands tugged at his disheveled white strands. "fuck, baby," he groaned against your lips. "lemme see..." his hand made its way towards your panties. soon enough, you felt the coldness of his fingertips circling your throbbing little clit.

"aw, damn... y'so fucking wet... i barely even touched you yet..." he murmured into your ear as his middle and ring fingers began teasing your dripping entrance. "'toru... don't tease..."

he chuckled against your lips before kissing your neck, occasionally leaving love bites all over your skin. "no ? why shouldn't i ? s'fun, watching my baby get all flustered just from a lil' teasing..." he mumbled. "just... please..." you whined. "aw, you sound so pretty, angel... s'just my fingers rubbing your pretty pussy... what's it gonna be when it's gonna be my cock, huh ?" he smirked lazily. his cocky expression made you want to fuck him senseless.

"shut up..." you mumbled as he pulled down his sweatpants just enough to free his boxers. his bulge was so pretty against his boxers that just the sight of it made you lick your lips. "oh ? what was that, mhm ? what about putting that pretty tongue to work ?" you tugged on his hair and he moaned.

"baby... don't make me get noisy... we already had complaints, last time..." you hummed. "don't care." he chuckled at your feisty answer and rolled you onto your back as he climbed on top of you. "what a naughty girl..." he whispered and went back to grinding his hips into yours. the pace was tortuously slow. your eyes rolled back as he hummed. "that's it, sweet girl... give it t'me..." he breathed. "give it t'me, love..."

you felt the familiar warm bubble in your lower tummy tightening dangerously. "'toru..." you gasped softly. "i know, baby, i know... m'right here... s'alright." he ground his hips against yours one last time and you came in your panties. "theeere you go... that's it, love... such a good fucking girl..."

as you finally came down from your high, your boyfriend kissed your flushed cheek. "think y'can do that around my cock, now ?"

you definitely can.

what a mannNN <33

⋆˚࿔ kimi 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

[matryosika]

The Look

Pairing: Hyunjin x fem!reader Wordcount: 2,159 words Genre: Smut (18+) Includes: Ex!hyunjin, mentions of break up and indications of an unhealthy relationship (nothing too detailed or specific). Possesiveness, a bit of angst if you squint. Infidelity? But not really? It's nothing too serious, anyway. Smut warnings under the cut. Author's Note: Wrote this TODAY. Everybody say congratulations on overcoming your writer's block Femme! It honestly has been a fucking while since I wrote anything, so this is news to me really. To be really honest I didn't want to get anywhere with this, I just felt like indulging myself with the "we shouldn't be doing this" kind of trope, so this is what it came out! Please remember that english is not my first language and this is not proofread, so I apologize for any mistakes in advance. If you like this, please leave a comment/reblog/ask and let me know what you think! AND if you wish to support my work further, you can buy me a ko-fi! The link it's in my pinned post. I love you for even reading me.

Smut warnings: Sex in a public place (club's restroom). Unprotected vaginal sex mentions of a condom but they ended up not using it anyways. Lots of dirty talking and physical touch. No kissing at all because they're exes and they don't go around kissing each other, apparently (but they do fuck so... ?). Jealous and possesive Hyunjin. Creampie. Multiple orgasms, overstimulation, use of petnames (baby and pretty). Hyunjin is kind of controlling, not in a dom kind of way but in a "I know you better than you know yourself" kind of way.

“He can’t make you feel like I do, can he?”

It's hard to think coherently and give him a proper answer when his cock is hitting the deepest spots within you. Repeatedly.

Not only that, but he's holding your hips in the angle he knows best. 

Hyunjin is right, no one can make you feel like he does. In every sense of the sentence. 

“He doesn’t know how to fuck you like this, right?” The queries continue, plump lips dragging along your jaw and chin with no other purpose than to feel your skin. Despite you two ending things, seemingly for good, you somehow always found yourself in the same situation: against him, or on top of him, or underneath him. “I know you don’t let him”. 

You're reminded of whatever he is talking about when you feel the rubber of the condom inside your hand, gripping it just as harshly as your walls clench around Hyunjin's dick.

He is right again, you don’t let your new conquer fuck you raw like he is doing right now. Shit, you haven't even let him fuck you at all.

That is not something your ex boyfriend should know about. 

“Baby,” the pet name slips off your lips and it sends shivers down Hyunjin's spine. It has been a while since he has heard you calling him that, but it still has the exact same effect.

Perhaps it's now boosted, considering neither of you should be fucking each other at this point. At least not now, that you've started dating men again. 

Nothing too serious, but you've tried to convince everyone that you're already over your ex boyfriend. And if by over you mean completely obsessed and desperate for the way only he knows how to fuck you, then yes: you are over him.

“Feels good?” Hyunjin asks through gritted teeth, pressing his forehead against yours. You can feel tears of his sweat mixing with yours, his fresh and minty breath fanning your cheeks and eyelashes. You nod desperately, swallowing thickly in hopes of being able to articulate a single, monosyllabic word. Yet the way he feels inside your pussy is too overwhelming to even let you form a coherent response. “Do you really think he could fuck you hard like this? Make you this wet?”

He could, but you're never going to know anyway. 

“That’s why you keep crawling back to me,” he gasps, squeezing his eyes shut when he feels your walls convulsing around him, “that's why you keep letting me fuck you”. 

It was for the best, you repeat yourself every time he thrusts his cock deeper inside you. It was for the best, but that doesn't necessarily mean it was what you wanted.

Ending things off with Hyunjin seemed like the only way to go —you two just didn't work out, no matter how hard each one of you tried. 

You loved each other, but it was kind of a sick love, a poisonous one. One would think they'll be able to live through it, but it eventually consumes you.

It ignites a fire that can never be put down. And living amongst flames it's not exactly what either of you were looking for. 

“Right there,” you cry out, the pathetic sounds being drowned by the music and party bustle happening outside the club's restroom where your date is patiently waiting for you.

Does he know Hyunjin is fucking you just meters away from him? Does he know you're going back home with a sore pussy and cum trailing down your legs?

Hyunjin’s cock twitches at the idea of him finding out you’re being dicked down by none other than your ex. 

The one you claim to be over with. 

The one whose memory, you assured, wasn't a threat to a new relationship.

“Yeah, right here?” Damned be him, who knows you maybe too well. You suppress a scream when his palm digs into the flesh of your lower tummy, pressing down hard where the tip of his cock is brushing the deepest spots within you, “can you feel me here? Can you feel how hard my dick is?”

You moan in response. 

You can feel him there, and everywhere. You can feel his slim fingers pressed against the flesh of your hips. You can feel the tip of his nose buried on your neck, and his lips leaving a wet trail everywhere they go. You can feel his pulse, his heavy breathing.

The despair of being without fucking you for so long.

“That’s it,” Hyunjin groans when he feels you grinding your hips against his, lifting them up ever so slightly over the restroom sink. When you start forcing yourself against him, to do anything to feel him closer, he knows you're close to cumming. “That’s it, pretty, come and get what you want from me like you always do”. 

You have no other choice but to arch your back, the overwhelming pleasure taking control not only of your limbs but your whole body. You wrap your arms around Hyunjin's neck and your legs around his hips  tightly, pulling him as close as humanly possible.

“Just like that,” he praises you, licking his lips when his eyes fall to where your bodies connect. 

Hyunjin feels like he could come with that sight alone, but he needs to elongate it. What if you go back home with the man you're supposed to be on a date with, and decide that you want something serious with him? What if it's the last time he ever gets to fuck you? 

Hyunjin can't just come like that. He can't come without engraving the way your body feels inside his brain.

He can't come without letting his mouth speak freely what his pride doesn't allow him to say on a regular day.

Hyunjin can't come just yet. He needs you a bit more. A little bit longer.

“C-coming,” you sob against his neck, feeling him holding you tightly when your body trembles almost aggressively, “don’t stop, Hyunjin. D-don’t fucking stop”.

Not that he intended to.

Instead, he pushes his hips harder. Deeper. His hands move from your hips to your ass, and he uses his grip as leverage to piston even rougher inside you. 

So much so, you wince in pain. You don't want him to stop, but you can feel the built up tension exploding little by little. 

Like fireworks, one after the other.

“See?” Hyunjin groans, taking it upon him to help you ride your high. He doesn't slow down, despite how your nails are digging into his hair and the flesh of his nape. “We've broken up but your body still remembers me. You’re still so weak for me”. 

You hate how right he is, but you can't argue back. 

After going without each other for so long, almost 4 months, you didn't expect your body to react like this to his touch.

But it appears as if it has a mind of its own, one to which you have no access to. 

“No,” you shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut. The waves of pleasure travel from your core to the tip of your toes, and from your erect nipples to the thin hairs on your arms. You’re covered in goosebumps and can barely even remember any other name that’s not Hyunjin’s. “I’m not- I’m just-”.

It’s pointless to try and say something back. You're making a fool of yourself and you know it, but it seems as if your dignity always appears right at the epitome of the post-nut clarity. 

With Hyunjin's dick still inside you, you know such clarity is not going to last long, but you're going to hold on to it for as good as it lasts. 

“You’re just what?” He taunts you, guiding one of your hands from your arse to your face. He takes your cheeks and cups them, forcing your lips into a pathetic pout. “Desperate for me? For my touch?”

You try to shake your head as a way of saying no because your mouth can only do so much, but Hyunjin keeps you in place.

“No?” He asks you, frustration lingering on his tone. “Wasn’t this what you wanted all night long?”

4 months ago, things seemingly followed the natural course of them.

After much fucking and bickering, even after having broken up, you two parted ways —Hyunjin immersed himself in his profession, and you did the same. The late night calls weren't taken as frequently, and the drunken messages stopped receiving any sort of response.

It seemed as if you were already over each other —not only over the relationship, but those strange encounters you kept on having too. 

That was, of course, way long before tonight's affair. 

“No,” you whine yet again, trying to convince yourself that all that is happening wasn’t provoked and invited by you. “I was just- with my date”. 

“And where is that date of yours right now, pretty?” His voice is trembling, but Hyunjin still manages to keep his composure. 

He has always been the one to have the last word in everything, that much you know. And how could he not, when his voice stands strong even at moments like this, when his mind is completely losing control.

“You don’t even know, right?” 

He teases you, mouth slightly agape while a series of grunts and gasps escape his lips.

Sadly, he is getting closer.

“You don’t even know where he is because you stopped caring about him the minute you saw me, right?” The cockiness in his voice is a painful reminder that you're not as strong-willed as you think you are. Not only that, but it also reminds you of how true Hyunjin is. “You’re so easy to read, so f-fucking easy”. 

You clench around him when you hear how he struggles to keep on talking. The way he runs out of breath, and each groan that follows every word is getting you going way more than it should. 

“That gaze of yours-” Hyunjin continues, nibbling at his plump bottom lip while his cat-like eyes find yours in the middle of the neon lights, “always tells me exactly what you want”. 

The look. The sight that will be forever imprinted in Hyunjin’s mind for good.

That look you used to give him when you were on your knees, with your hands wrapped around his length and the tip of his cock hitting the deepest part in your throat. 

That look you always gave him when the tip of his dick slid for the first time that night inside of you, along with that sigh of relief that escaped your lips every time it happened.

The look. 

When you saw him standing right across from you at the club, Hyunjin could decipher your gaze easily. 

After all, he is the one who knows you the most. 

“And I know this is what you want, right?” He asks you, increasing the speed of his thrusts. They get rougher as they get sloppier, completely losing the steady and sensual rhythm he set at first. 

You press your lips in a thin line, shutting your eyes close right after they threaten to start spilling tears from them. 

Hyunjin is always too much to take, and you're not sure if you love it or hate it. 

“I know you miss me just as much as I do,” Hyunjin gasps, salty drops of sweat traveling from his temples to your chest and tummy. “You can try to get over me, but I know you won't,” each word is accompanied by a harsh thrusts of his hips. 

It feels like a threat, but it's a fact.

“You don’t want to get over me, you just want to pretend,” he's fully aware of how loud he is being. How whiny his words are coming off, how desperate he sounds overall. But he can’t help himself, not when he is so close to tasting that sweet relief he has been craving for months now. “You can fuck- every man you want-, but it is always going to be me who you think about when you're coming around their cocks”. 

With that, he lets out a raspier, more primal grunt. One that’s explosive enough to stop him right on his tracks, breathing heavily while his head hangs low. 

You can feel his dick twitching inside of you, just right after you came around him for the third time tonight. 

Unexpected, without a warning. 

Your orgasm washed over you just as quickly as Hyunjin's did. With a dry throat and strangled breath you look at each other, feeling his hot arousal pumping inside you, painting your walls white. 

One would think that there's nothing left to say. Not when you're in this state of frenzy, completely unaware of your surroundings. 

But, as usual, Hyunjin has to have the last word.

“That is, if they can get you to come at all”. 

[sunvylovebug]

ur writing is so good!! would it be possible to request a part 2 to jin’s story but mayhaps with some more romance 🥹

The cold in his heart ❨Part 2/2❩

↬ Warnings: No warnings …⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ

↬ Female!Reader and third person narration (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

↬ Author Note: Thank you so much for asking for the part 2! I had so much fun writing this. I'm so happy you like the stuff I write. I felt insecure to post things cause English is not my first language but here we are<3 Thanks Anon, I hope you will like this part too!

↬ Summary: A ball in Frostheim, Y/N will attend to it, will the Captain's feelings come to light?

↬ Word Count: 1,800 Words

Part One

One day Y/N was on her way to Frostheim. She needed to deliver a report cause there were some incorrect details in the previous one so, she kindly offered to take them to the Vice Captain. However, when looking for him, she couldn't find him anywhere. She had written a message that hadn't been read yet, Y/N assumed he would be busier than usual so she decided to head to the Captain's room.

The path was not complicated. She knew it well after having gone there so many times, fulfilling errands that Jin asked of her. At first all of them were really bossy, they felt like orders more than favors. She smiled at the thought of how the young man was now a little nicer to her.

The girl arrived at the room, knocked on the door and after hearing Jin's voice she entered. "I have some papers for you, there's a report that had data, it wasn't correct." She said gently. Jin looked at her, he had a cigarette in his hand and was lying on the luxurious couch of his room, a sight that was common to see.

"Ah... I see. Leave them there." Jin spoke looking at the desk. She nodded and put the papers on a free space on his desk. He looked at her hand, she had a bandage covering her palm. "Y/N, come here." He ordered, she walked towards him.

"Yes? Is there anything else you need?" Y/N didn't know what he had in mind.

"Sit."

"Okay okay, what's wrong? You're being weird-"

Her words were cut off as Jin gently held her hand, analyzing the bandage. He looked into Y/N's eyes, searching for an explanation. "Oh, that... it's nothing serious, just a slight cut I got while I was cleaning some pieces of glass."

Hearing what happened, he frowned, giving her palm a light caress. "What are you, a dumb kid? It's sharp and you shouldn't clean something like that with bare hands."

"I know I know, I was in a hurry but it's nothing, really. Jiro bandaged it for me." He kept frowning. "You look like an angry cat."

"Shut the fuck up."

Jin let her hand go, a little pissed off cause of her words, not as gently as he was holding it. She sighed, he could still be a bit rude from time to time. After a short silence he gently tapped the cigarette against the ashtray and looked at her. "There's going to be a dance tonight, are you planning to go?"

The girl chuckled at the question, earning a frown from the boy. "No, I'm definitely not going"

He raised an eyebrow and looking at her curiously. "And why is that?"

"Well you know, it's gonna be full of rich people, expensive outfits, they will be dancing..."

"Why would you care about what those bootlickers do, wear or think? You should go."

She smiled playfully. "Oh? What is it? Do you want me to go?"

"Yes. I want you to go."

That was unexpected, Y/N was joking but it was obvious he was being serious. Her cheeks felt a little warm after hearing what he'd said. "I don't have any clothes to wear to an event like that."

"Then I'll get you some. Will you go?" Those piercing ice-blue eyes looked at her with a certain sparkle, something she couldn't quite make out.

She sighed, it was a very kind gesture on his part and she was somewhat curious to see what one of these Frostheim activities was like. "Fine. I'll go. Thank you Jin, I appreciate it."

He had a slight, beautiful smile on his lips after hearing she was going. Soon after that he took care of getting the perfect outfit for her.

[ • • • ]

It was getting dark and Y/N was a little nervous, she didn't know how to dance at all and anyone could tell she had two left feet when dancing, it didn't really matter cause Jin wanted her there. Her heart was churning with a certain mixture of happiness and uncertainty at this, it was true that they were getting closer but, could that mean something more or was she just rushing to assume things that aren't true?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sight of one of Darkwick's many cats at the window. She let the cat in and it meowed happily, letting the package on the floor for her to grab. Y/N crouched down and gave the small animal some gentle strokes, its tail was wagging from side to side. "Thank you, you're such a good worker aren't you?"

The cat purred happily and after some more affection it needed to go. The cat jumped out and left. The girl's hands carefully opened the pretty package and she smiled as she saw the contents, there was a beautiful dress, a coat and a pair of shoes, also some jewelry. The fabric of the clothes was so soft and pleasant to the touch. It was obvious the high quality of it, she hoped it wasn't too expensive, of course Jin could get something like that a hundred times and not be bothered by the price, but she didn't feel so good when someone spent money on her.

There was still some time left but Y/N decided to prepare herself as best she could to look good. She wanted to feel pretty and she did a good job with it. Seeing her reflection in the mirror felt good, the dress fit her body shape in such a natural way, Jin had made a perfect choice.

Arriving at the Frostheim house, there was a certain warmth that was not so usual. The place was full of people, all of them looked elegant, glamours, they were people with a lot of money and power. Y/N couldn't help but feel out of place. Luckily no one was watching at her, she was blending in well.

"Here you are." She heard a voice behind her, it was Tohma. He greeted her with a slight bow of his head. "Good evening Y/N, the Captain is looking for you. Follow me."

Her heart began to race, she followed Tohma without objection, some people watched them pass by but she wasn't thinking about it. Then she saw him, a drink on his hand and wearing the Frostheim uniform. There's no denying that Jin looked incredibly attractive in it. "Look at that, not bad." He smirked when she appeared in front of him.

"Thank you Jin. You look good too." She smiled with her cheeks a little rosy.

Some students around them began to murmur about them, Jin sighed heavily. "That's why I hate these things. Y/N, come on, let's dance." He grabbed the girl's waist and guided her to the dance floor.

"Jin wait, I don't know how to-"

"Shhh don't worry, I'll guide you. Just follow me." He whispered to her, she felt shivers down her spine but only nodded at his words.

Jin guided Y/N's hands to put them in the correct place, getting a little closer to her and holding her waist with one hand. They started dancing slowly, maybe it was the adrenaline but she didn't feel it was as difficult as it seemed before, it was actually quite nice to do. There were a lot of people looking but neither of them cared at all. It was just the two of them and the background music.

They danced for a while, Jin looked at her tenderly, his cold eyes had warmth in them, Y/N had managed to melt the young man's cold heart and wrap it in warmth.

The third song ended and he gently pulled her off the dance floor. "You must be a little tired, let's go."

He started walking towards the stairs. "Oh? Wasn't I supposed to be getting tired?" She asked raising an eyebrow. Jin turned around to look at her.

"You're right." Before Y/N could realize it he was carrying her bridal style, she instinctively clung to his body, letting out a surprised gasp. The boy smirked.

"There was no need to do that, Jin."

"You're shy now? How cute." He teased.

He walked up the stairs while carrying her in his arms, the music was becoming less and less loud, she looked at his face. He was so handsome, his pale skin, blue eyes, silver hair with that subtle blue blur on the tips.

He put her back on her feet, but his hand travels to her waist. "I wasn't ready to see you look so stunning tonight." He says sincerely, his expression is not much different from usual but there is a slight warm glint in his eyes.

"Jin I-" Her words were interrupted by his index finger, gently resting on her lips.

"I wanna say something first." She nodded, a little shocked by his actions. "I'm in love with you, Y/N." For just a second she wanted to ask him if if was a joke, but seeing the way his eyes looked at her she knew he was being honest.

Y/N felt like her heart was going to jump out of her chest to go into his arms instead. "I feel the same way for you."

Jin felt relieved, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a hug. Her body pressed against his chest. She was surprised to notice that his heart was racing almost as fast as hers. "I love you."

"I love you too Jin." His grip on her loosened enough to look into her eyes again.

He moved one of his hands to gently hold her cheek. He brought his face closer to hers slowly, waiting to see what kind of reaction he was gonna get from her. Her cheeks got red, her eyes were closing, their faces came closer and that's when their lips touched softly, a delicate, gentle touch.

His thumb caressed her face, Jin didn't want to pull away, but they were running out of air after several seconds of kissing, he pulled away to let her breathe again, his forehead pressed against hers and a loving smile on his face.

"Y/N. Would you be my girlfriend?"

She couldn't believe what her ears were hearing, maybe this was a dream? "Of course! I want that... I wanna be your girlfriend."

He kissed her softly again, they kisses until they had a hard time breathing. Jin was fascinated with her, he couldn't stop it, his heart wanted to make her feel overwhelmed with love and feel the same in return too. It was definitely their perfect night.

In the eyes of others, Jin had regained some of his former charisma and warmth, all thanks to the fact that the king of Frostheim had found someone to give all of his love to.

[random-thot-generator]

Dirty Little Secret + Pt. 4

JOHNNY 'SOAP' MACTAVISH x FEM READER

-

Summary: You think the worst is over until you go on your morning walk and realize your troubles have just begun.

Warnings/Tags: Profanity, angst, explicit language, light dub con- Soap steals a kiss, reader is feelin' it, but she's pissed about it, Johnny's a cheeky git, No use of Y/N

(Notes: Sprinkled just a wee, teensy tiny bit of spice in this one, but nothing to clutch your pearls over. Aunt Rue's just settling in to enjoy the show now.)

Word Count: 1.5K

-

You were shaking with barely contained rage as you let yourself in the bakery the following morning. Aunt Rue called out to you, as usual, then came out of the back when you didn't answer right away. You couldn't. You were choking on your own fury.

"What's the matter, love?" she asked, eyeing your flustered state.

"I ran into bloody Johnny this morning, that's what!" you snapped, marching back to the office.

Rue trailed after you, watching as you stripped off your jacket with angry, jerky movements and threw it at the coat tree. "He didn't leave, then?" she asked, tone mild.

"Apparently not," you gritted out, stomping past her and back out to the front.

After that little scene with Johnny the day before, you had finally come clean with your aunt about him, so now she knew all the sordid details, but to your surprise and dismay, her only advice had been, "Talk to him, lass. 'S the only way you'll find peace."

You thought, at the time, that her advice was useless. You thought Johnny would go back to Hereford after confronting him about his other bird. You thought wrong.

Still fuming, you started prepping behind the counter, banging and slamming things around, muttering under your breath as your aunt watched on in amusement.

"The lad's certainly got you riled up this morning," she commented, which did nothing to improve your current disposition.

"He's bloody infuriating," you snarled, banging the lid back on the water urn. "The fucking cheek of him!"

Rue pressed her lips together to keep from grinning. She waited until your back was turned before asking, "Well, what did he do to get you so, um... worked up?"

Your shoulders tensed, hands stilling as you felt heat creeping up from your chest. "Nothing," you eventually muttered, then stomped off to hide in the stock room, away from your aunt's keen eyes.

-

In truth, you were incensed the moment you spotted Johnny jogging along the boardwalk that morning. Almost twisting your ankle on the loose pebbles of the beach, you'd stomped your way up the stairs, scattering a small group of seagulls pecking around a trash bin. Your voice sounded similar to their high-pitched squawks when you confronted him.

"Why are you still here?"

Johnny stood panting in front of you, sweat trickling down his brow and cheeks, his tee damp and clinging to his thick chest and arms. He huffed at you, pulling up the tail of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face, exposing his firm abs, happy trail on full display.

"An' good mornin' to ye, too, bonnie," he replied, looking you up and down with a crooked grin. "Yer lookin' good t'day."

"Don't start with me, Johnny. Why are you still here?" you demanded.

He sauntered over to the railing and braced his hands against it, extending a leg out behind him as he started doing his post-run stretches. Muscles bulged and flexed beneath a layer of fine, dark hair, distracting you despite how angry you were.

Damn him.

He peered at you over his shoulder, grinning. "Place is sorta growin' on me. Quiet little village, ocean views, good people. Beats the hell outta Hereford, tha's fer sure."

You leaned a hip against the railing while he continued with his stretches, crossing your arms over your chest. "Shouldn't you be gettin' back to your lass? I'm sure she's missing you by now," you snarked, tone bitter.

He huffed again, shaking his head. "Christ. Dunno wha' ye thought ye saw, hen, but I've no' been wi' anyone else. Not since you," he added, the look in his eye heated. Hungry.

"Bullshit!" you hissed at him.

There was a momentary flash of anger in his blue eyes, but then he smirked. "Think yer the one bullshittin', hen."

"Fuck you and your bullshit! I saw her with you!" you snapped, jabbing a finger at him.

He was on you in the blink of an eye, caging you against the railing, hands gripping the rail on either side of your hips as he leaned into you. "Describe her to me, then," he purred. "Tell me 'bout this new bird o' mine."

"Fine," you gritted between your clenched teeth. "She's taller than me, slender, long, curly dark hair… pretty. You took her to the coffee shop near that Thai place."

He gave you a quizzical look, then recognition dawned in his eyes and a smirk curled up his lips. He reached for the small pack at his waist and took out his phone. Tapping at the screen a few times, he turned it around for you to look at a pic he'd saved. "This the bird yer talkin' 'bout?"

You stared at the image of the same young woman you'd seen him with him all those months ago. You'd never forget her face; it had been seared into your brain like a brand.

"Yeah, that's her," you mumbled, looking away.

He turned the phone to look at her pretty face himself and sniffed in amusement. "Aye, Sorcha's a bonnie lass. Looks jus' like our mam."

'Our mam'???

Wait...

You snatched the phone out of his hand to scrutinize the image up close, a sick feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. Her hair was a shade lighter than Johnny's with auburn highlights, but the eyes… the same shape, the same Prussian blue shade. The longer you studied her pic, the easier it was to see the family resemblance. Looked like that devilish little smirk was hereditary, too.

Ah, bloody hell…

You couldn't meet his eyes, embarrassment making your whole body flush hot. You handed his phone back, all that righteous anger pumping you up now deflating like a balloon. Slanting a sulky look at him, you gave in with begrudging acceptance. "How would I know that you had a sister?" you muttered, averting your eyes again.

Johnny sighed, putting his phone away. "Ya could no' have kenned it 'cause I never tol' ye," he admitted, his tone contrite, not gloating, like you expected. "There's a lot I should'a tol' ye, bonnie. A lot I should'a asked, too."

He tipped your chin up to look into your eyes, and you knew he was about to kiss you; you had seen that same look on his face a thousand times. You turned your head, hands pushing at his chest. "No. Don't," you whispered, voice wavering.

"Sweetheart, dinnae be mad," he cooed, cupping your cheek. "Now that ye ken the truth, we can—"

"We can what, Johnny? Go back to how things were?" There was a distinct warble to your voice now, tears already pricking at your eyes. You huffed out an exasperated breath, shaking your head. "No. I can't go back to that. I won't."

You pushed past him and started walking at a clipped pace, steps hurried. You needed to get away from him, get your head clear.

"Bonnie, wait!" he called, jogging after you. "C'mon, hen," he pleaded, taking you by the arm. "We can work this out. Jus' give us a chance."

You yanked your arm out of his light grip and glared at him. "I gave you two years of my life, Johnny. I can't do this anymore," you sobbed out, breath hitching.

He drew his hand away, a pained expression on his face. "Bonnie…"

"It's too little, too late, Johnny. Just… go home."

You again tried to walk away from him, but then his hands were at your waist, spinning you 'round and tugging you against him. You pushed at him, tears now slipping down your cheeks. "What are you doing?"

"Testin' a theory," he murmured, then his hand was cupping the back of your head, and he crashed his lips to yours.

Say what you want about Johnny MacTavish, but the bastard knew how to kiss. He had you melting against him in an instant, overwhelmed and clinging to him, no longer pushing him away. His tongue licked into your mouth, and he groaned, arms tightening to mold your body to his.

When he finally broke the kiss, he peered down at you, eyes hooded with desire. He took in your dazed expression and smirked, looking smug as hell. He then let you go and stepped back, wiping the spit from his bottom lip with his thumb, the look in his eye pure sin.

"Best get on t'work, bonnie. Yer goin' t'be late."

You blinked, head still a little hazy, brain slow to process what he had just done. Oh, but when it finally sunk in, you were spitting mad.

"Ooh! You— You bloody arsehole!" you seethed. Growling, you spun on your heel and stalked away, a string of profanities left in your wake.

Johnny laughed, elated after that telling kiss. "Be seein' ye soon, bonnie!" he called after you.

You threw an angry glance over your shoulder, only to see him blow you a kiss and give a cheeky wink before turning and jogging back the way he came.

Fuck!

You'd never get rid of him now, you thought, as you hurried towards the bakery, trying your best to ignore the dull ache in your core and the damp patch in your knickers.

-

part 3 part 5

[cressthebest]

Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 27

chapter 46:

1. WOLFSTAR MY BELOVED

2. god i hate that james is having a lapse of time. but also, i LOVE that zar is including their disabilities throughout the fic and not just making it a one-off thing

3. black brothers angst is hitting like a freight train

4. “"The plan was always to take James' place, but I'd be lying if I said the words didn't leave my lips a little easier knowing that Sirius would choke on them."” jesus christ

5. regulus and remus friendship means so much to me. i love that when regulus asked remus the worst thing he did, remus trusted him enough to tell him

6. LILY AND DORCAS FRIENDSHIP!!!!!!

7. also, i love the chaos dorcas knows she’s gonna cause chaos by breaking people out

8. “Lily fucking Evans, everyone.” -dorcas

and that’s the woman i’m in love with!!!

9. AWWW marlene showed up on dorcas’ doorstep!! i love them so much!!

10. “Regulus wonders if James still thinks he's beautiful.” jesus christ, what a way to start a pov

11. “"I didn't break up with you," James snaps. "I didn't exactly get the chance, seeing as we weren't together in the first place."

"Yes, we were," Regulus whispers. In his head, they were. In his heart, they still are.”

oof that fucking HURTS like a punch to the gut. i don’t know how reg is able to survive james being that mad at him

12. god, james is so mad thinking that reg lied about wanting to marry him, and reg meant it 10000%

13. 😶 reg just proposed, right? i read that right??

14. “”He stops, swallows, then gives Remus a soft smile. "You can say it. You probably shouldn't, but—"

"Come back," Remus whispers, like it's a sin, and Sirius' breath hitches.”

i haven’t cried in like five chapters, but this had me SOBBING. i love wolfstar more than the air i breathe

15. “"Do you know that you're the only person who has asked me that? Everyone else—they all just accepted it, what I'm going to do, and there was no one who even—I mean, no one even…argued, or protested. Maybe it's because I'm so stubborn and they know it wouldn't get them anywhere, but—but no one tried. And maybe it makes me selfish, but I'm so glad that you have."”

STOP IM CRYING HARDER NOW WTF THIS HURTS

16. “"I'd die for them, but I'd live for you."” YOOO THIS HURTS

17. “"No, no, I want to hear about this secret fantasy of yours to have sex on or against household appliances. Do tell me more, sweetheart. Give me all the filthy details."”

18. “"I'm partial to the kitchen table. It'd be nice, I think, splaying you out there and enjoying you like a meal. Wouldn't that be nice?"”

remus is so unhinged 😭😭😭

19. 🥰 dorlene mornings after sex

20. awww dorcas is cutting marlene’s hair. this is so intimate

21. god i’m so worried for marlene in this arena

22. james being a big meanie (i don’t blame him) and regulus breaking down and crying and james being like 😶😧😦😟 no! why are you doing that! stop!!

23. “James lasted ten years dealing with Regulus hating him, and being unkind, and ignoring him. Regulus didn't even last five days.”

awww reg is just a big softie

24. 😦 uh oh. dad and pop are fighting. they’re having the screaming match of the century

25. god, this whole fight is reminding me of when effie called regulus gentle.

26. “Not will you marry me, because James can't, but would you marry me, if you could?” i-

27. honorary authors notes from zar:

“oh, and *bursts into tears* THEY'RE ENGAGED 😭

well, okay, not really—but tell that to regulus, who will ABSOLUTELY be running with this new information lmaooo. this is the same man calling james his ex when they weren't even together. james just stating he WOULD marry regulus if he could—yes, regulus' brain has immediately decided they're engaged now. james, babe, you really should have seen that coming 💀

regulus: would you marry me if you could

james: yeah

regulus: so what im hearing is we're engaged now. we just got engaged. that's what this was.

james: ...that's...not... why do i even bother trying to keep up with you? sure, whatever you say!”

[irrealisms]

every hand is a storm liner notes

fic here if you haven't read it!

fic title is from the red ending of we know the devil; it's about lesbian desire and monstrosity and knowing that you are hurting people by Wanting and by Touching.

honestly this is. a very personal fic to me. I Have Been Both Of These People. more directly/longer/worse on the vitalasy side but i have also entered relationships i didn't want and Claimed To Want Them because i felt like i owed it to them. this is just what it's like to be 15 i think. just gonna lead off with that.

on the one hand i feel like this fic has some of my most "oh this is definitely An AU and not very accurate to their canon characters" moments but on the other hand it has significant amounts of dialogue taken directly from VODs. primary inspiration was Shining Resolve/Fake Smile but i drew from a few others as well, esp Anchor/Learning to Communicate. also the moment where vitalasy joins the server post-betrayal and zam just starts fucking Screaming and Running Away. i need you all to know i rewatched every single eclipse fed meeting for this fic guys. as well as a number of sign rooms. the conclusion i have drawn from this is that they are so fucking problems

one of the major themes/throughlines in this fic is Trust. zam trusts vitalasy (not to hurt her for having opinions); zam trusts subz (and therefore should trust vitalasy); zam trusts vitalasy (to want the right things, and therefore zam should want them too); zam talks about subz and vitalasy trusting her (with, like, specific things). the Conflation there. the way vitalasy takes zam expressing the last thing as zam believing the first thing. the way vitalasy's ending is i trusted you and part of that is "i trusted you (not to betray me)" but a larger part of that is "i trusted you (to be honest with me so that i wouldn't hurt you)". they are both constantly talking themselves into trusting each other and, uh, they shouldn't.

btw when zam's video came out and had a line about trusting vitalasy and how he Had To it was so awesome for me (working on this fic)

some fun little notes on bits of the fic: when zam is having doubts abt the plan to put mapicc and ro in bedrock prison witch labyrinth, this is related to ... zam was also on team awesome's side, yk? i haven't gotten much chance in my pmmm au fics thus far to go in much detail on the dupe war but let it be known that Team Awesome Did Very Much Kill Some Guys. when zam is like "why should we get to decide, what makes us better than them, etc" this is related to .... what makes her, specifically, better than them? she did very much also kill those guys! and of course to subz and vitalasy it is like. dude they are Stalking You. you are our teammate and they are stalking you.

another little note: zam's nightmare is not about kissing vitalasy. it is very specifically about being kissed by vitalasy. this is a fact that would both make vitalasy so so so mad and haunt her forever if she knew it.

in general theres another major Theme going thru the fic abt Physical Touch. zam is the one to initiate all the touches except two of them--the one at the very end and the one in the nightmare, which. vitalasy only kisses zam after zam has kissed her three times in a row and repeatedly reassured her that it's fine and wanted. vitalasy so badly does not want to hurt zam and is trying so, so, so hard not to hurt her. that doesn't change the fact that ... zam is in fact hurt by it. the way that vitalasy's dialogue in the ending scene is I’m not going to hurt you and you said it was okay then she touches zam and it leaves a very obvious physical wound and vitalasy didn't mean to do it but that doesn't mean it's not there. and also at the same time, like... zam did very much physically hurt vitalasy first and worse!

a fun detail that i didn't actually do on purpose but that my beta pointed out is that vitalasy is shot in the shoulder & then when she hurts zam it's by grabbing her shoulder. yayyyy parallels

i feel so incredibly bad for both of them. tbh. they are both terrified out of their minds & trying so hard & in a shitty situation and it's just....real bad but not in a way where i can find it in me to blame or be mad at either of them. im an apologist for both of them. yes they hurt each other but thats not going to stop me

both of them have ocd in this fic To Me. however theyre also both kind of justified in their fears so you can read them as not having ocd if you want. zam is checking the door for mapicc but mapicc is in fact stalking her. vitalasy is checking and double checking that zam is okay with things but zam is in fact not okay with things. this is how it goes sometimes

sorry subz fans. subz is kind of just Not Here. not even in the way he's not in my other vitalazam fics where his absence is Haunting The Fic. subz is just not relevant to this one

my initial concept for this fic had zam's opposition to ~exploits and vitalasy's whole plan and wish and so on being....a lot more relevant? some things that got changed: in the original concept, the final scene would be vitalasy touching zam and changing her outfit and powers; vitalasy's hair being similar in style/silhouette to kyubey's ears would be more emphasized; vitalasy lying to zam and zam talking to 3ht about it would have been much more of a plot point; we might actually have gotten to learn what vitalasy's wish was; vitalasy post-betrayal getting mad at zam's whole princely hero schtick; a few other things that im not successfully remembering. but instead the prison labyrinth is, like, sort of half relevant, but only insofar as it's a reflection of their relationship drama.

i did always know that i wanted zam Not Really Having Another Place To Live to be a major tension point, though-- it's the sort of thing where it immediately puts a lot of strain on her relationships due to her feeling obligated to be Endlessly Grateful in very specific ways, and back in dsmp fandom @regicidal-optimism gave me brainrot about housing insecurity in pmmm aus with the lovers, the dreamers, and me. this fic owes a lot to that one.

subz's parents are pretty absent even putting aside masquerade stuff, which is lonely for subz at times but convenient for zam. bacon's parents are much more present which is cool for bacon but sucks for zam, especially bc they are not in fact super happy abt having a random kid show up and live on their couch with no end date

tbh a lot of this fic is "i know we all like cute eclipse fed romance but can you imagine how bad that could go if zam had the same issues around it that zam has about literally everything else eclipse fed does". having a relationship with someone who feels like they Shouldn't Say No To You because they Owe You Their Life can break really bad, really fast, whether the thing you're asking for in that relationship is a kiss or a prison. do i think this is how it wouldve gone in canon? no. i think zam was more enthusiastic and had no real reason for moral dilemmas over a relationship; and i think vitalasy was not as head-over-heels in canon as in this fic. but there's a certain core problem there that was fun to mirror, you know?

the rest of this fic is "okay so vitalasy isn't a lesbian but what if.....vitalasy WAS a lesbian. due to the Projection"

they tried. both of them tried. trying wasn't enough not to hurt each other.

this fic has ART. before i even wrote it. i commissioned a pmmm!zam sketch from ctommy/idalus a couple months ago and then recently for vsz week void-chara drew all of eclipse federation in their magical girl outfits! so yeah check those out, incredibly talented artists and i fucking adore the art & am so deeply honored by it :D

i thought i wouldnt have many liner notes for this one and then i had SO MANY LINER NOTES that i had to split it into two chunks and i am NOT CONFIDENT I REMEMBERED EVERYTHING. anything after this that i think of will have been edited in. ty for reading all this lol if u read all of this i love u

[mumblingsage]

I was going to link a blog post or article defining "zero draft" but I'm actually not happy with any of the results. They all have too many rules!

"zero drafting is writing a rough draft (usually no longer than ten pages) of your novel"

My zero draft was at least 15 or 20 pages long, though it's hard to measure because at some point the file was a combination first draft of the beginning of the story and zero draft of the remainder (you can start the first draft before you finish zero drafting, if you've zero drafted to the point you feel ready, don't let anyone tell you otherwise). You shouldn't be worrying about numbers anyway. If your zero draft is 2 pages, that's also fine. You are not going to get a fucking bad grade in zero drafting! That is not normal to want or possible to achieve! Not even God will ever know or care how many pages this thing was!

"don't put dialogue in zero drafts; that's a detail to hash out later"

Why are we forbidding fun!? Developing character voice is part of the discovery phase a zero draft is perfect for! You shouldn't feel pressured to write out specific details, but if you start having them as you brainstorm, the zero draft is the perfect place to put them! The mental effort of having ideas, repressing them, and then hoping to remember them later to put into a first draft is way more stressful than just writing them down (and again, writing down an idea that comes to you is fun!)

"don't worry about the form of the book when you zero draft"

At this point if a zero draft isn't about details in the story and isn't about the shape of the story, I'm not sure what it is about (it's about both. It's about whatever you've got to work with.)

"don't worry about grammar or spelling"

I mean, you will write wonky sentences and have a ton of typos in the zero draft, that's life and it's not a problem (not even God will read the zero draft). But "how does this sentence function" isn't a bad thought to have in mind every time you write a sentence, not least so that when you come back to reread your zero draft, it actually makes sense to you, plus building a habit for how to think while writing. Here I feel the same way I feel about the "don't include details": it takes more effort to suppress this stuff than it does to write with it. And if you are actually writing with no grammar...inasmuch as that's even possible...if you're slamming down strings of verbs and nouns without connective tissue? That's just not a draft, it's an outline of the "grocery list notes-to-self" format. Also a fine thing. But why call it a draft.

"a zero draft takes about an hour to write"

I have never sat down and written a zero draft from beginning to end. I open the WIP file (literally my zero drafts are in a big honkin' file titled "WIPS"), write down the ideas I have, leave it and come back later, hours, weeks or months later, often in 5 or 10-minute spurts, sometimes in 2-hour ones if the juices are wildly flowing. I do not sit down thinking "I will write straight through from the beginning to end of the story", that's too much organization to worry about bringing into zero-draft work. I write what I have and put it in an order I think it might go in. The shape of the plot happens as I write, it doesn't guide what I write.

"Sage, at this point are you sure you aren't the one in the wrong and what you're recommending isn't actually a zero draft?"

I might be, but I'm not sure what else to call the thing I do, which is certainly shaped like a primordial draft that's more detailed than an outline but far less organized or in-character than a first draft.

[woodchipp]

"You were overcame. You were sick of everything."

Okay. Mind actually showing us how Sunny got to this point, though?

and wow. the prose is written so well. i can feel the frustration /s

Also, wouldn't "overwhelmed" be a better fit in this context?

"Your precious violin lay shattered at the bottom of the staircase."

"Precious" violin? Didn't the game imply he only saw it as a means to spend more time with his sister? Lost Library outright states he was annoyed by having to practice playing it!

1) For how important their big argument is to the plot, we never even get to hear it, nor does the game bother to show exactly what served as the straw that broke the camel's back and drove Sunny to destroy the violin. I, for one, would've been genuinely interested to learn that. Maybe Mari could've said something so deeply upsetting that Sunny saw no other way to "get back" at her for hurting him? That would've made his anger a bit more understandable, imo.

Of course, giving characters understandable reasons for doing what they do is an outdated writing convention.

2)

"MARI was yelling at you."

I love how Sunny gets this large and detailed rundown of his feelings at the moment and all Mari ever gets is this sentence. Yeah, because who cares about what she thinks? Who cares that she actually has a valid reason for berating Sunny? Her point of view is irrelevant since she's Wrong™ and she's about to get stuffed into the fridge anyway!

What nuanced storytelling.

3)

"She didn't understand you at all... She didn't understand that you just weren't good enough. The only thing you hold onto was your anger. This pain... was it her fault?"

This is laughable. "uuuuu nobody Understands the limitless depths of my sufferi-" shut the fuck up. you did a shitty thing and you're getting rightfully called out for it.

I wouldn't be as harsh if the game put effort into showing how Sunny progressively grew exhausted (and exactly how harsh Mari got when he made mistakes), but it doesn't. I won't do the writer's job for them because I shouldn't have to.

(I know I said this a hundred times already, but for the purposes of this post, I needed to reiterate.)

4) Why were they arguing specifically at the top of the staircase in the first place?

Note that neither the caption nor the photo seem to show Mari being physically violent with Sunny, yet he interprets her getting in his way as a "fight" anyway. If the fight in question was verbal, that definition doesn't fit because Sunny isn't shown talking at any point during the argument.

"Photo of a Murder", huh?

Granted, Sunny is 12 and obviously has no idea what manslaughter is, but "murder" implies an intent to kill. A more neutral term like "death" would've been more appropriate here, imo.

Different words mean different things.

I think I see why these were scrapped. The game labeling what Sunny did as a "murder" wouldn't have allowed the narrative to paint him as an unfortunate victim of circumstance, now, would it? :)

>>"It was an accident, right?" >>"Photo of a Murder"

lol and lmao

"Nothing but scratches."

Because falling from a staircase apparently doesn't leave any bruises that would've incriminated Sunny. No one could differentiate a neck broken due to a fall from a neck snapped by a noose either, it seems.

How awfully convenient.

(No, I don't believe his parents bribed the police. There isn't enough concrete evidence to back that up.)

1) Exactly why is Basil's first thought "I can't let anyone find out what happened"? I get he's mentally unsound himself and Stressed™, but there's only so much those two factors can be used as a justification for, and what Basil did next can't be justified by them. Moreover, the fact that was the first thing he thought of suggests it's an instinctual response. What, was Basil involved in similar cover-ups before? This makes no sense.

2)

"There's no way you can tell them the truth."

Why couldn't he just say that Mari's bad knee happened to buckle at the wrong time and she accidentally fell down the stairs, then? Since the game seems to imply Sunny was more willing to open up to Basil than to his other friends, I think it'd be reasonable to infer Sunny told him about the knee. And it would be a more plausible lie for a kid his age to tell!

The game has an easy and convenient cover-up story only to choose the most unnecessarily complicated one. peak writing

3)

"Who would believe... that it was... an accident?"

Literally everyone would. Unless Sunny had a history of being violent towards Mari (which is impossible since the game beats you over the head with how much he loved her), her death being accidental would have been the first thing to cross their minds, especially if Basil were to use the "bad knee" cover-up as described above.

Yes, Basil did what he did partly because he wanted to protect Sunny. However, if everything I've just dissected was his actual reasoning for doing something so demented, it's stupid and I will call it such.

"You think you see a figure pick something off the ground..."

Love the implication that a 12 yo child was somehow able to handle a 15 yo teenager all by himself. Because that's believable.

"For a moment, you feel at peace. You hate yourself for feeling this way. Is that all, then? Is everything going to be okay now?"

I want to emphasize just how inconceivably fucked-up this is.

Sunny's immediate reaction to the sight of his sister's hanged corpse upon snapping out of his dissociative fugue isn't horror or panickedly asking Basil what he has done.

It's relief. He feels at peace.

He's relieved that somebody cleaned up the mess he made.

[sevenrenny]

Gonna vent about people not respecting my fucking space when it comes to my health and how people either genuinely do not care about my health when they bring it up or they just WANT to cause me pain by learning what they shouldn't do so they can purposely do it. It got long as fuck.

I remember when coworker asked me why sometimes, at the end of work, I just sit in my car while everyone else leaves

I explained to her I was waiting out a medical issue (from personal experience, it's pointless explaining the details of what my conditions are because verything I say goes in one ear and out the other even when I dumb it down like I'm talking to a five-year-old).

I was having migraine aura symptoms but just said I was having a dizzy spell because the former will only lead to an endless chain of questions from her and I was too tired and uncomfortable and in pain to spoon-feed her medical information she will not listen to anyway.

Of course she had questions anyway, even though I insisted I was fine and to just go home. It sounds like she has never known I have these conditions; she does know. I've told her multiple times before because I have symptoms at work and so everyone asks about them all the time.

I've explained it before, so she knows. It's just that nobody listens, and that's not an exaggeration. People prod me for my medical history, I use every strategy to make it clear I don't want to talk about it, they get more pushy because they're "Just trying to help", I tell them, they scrutinise every thing I do as the reason I have these conditions that I was born with, then give me unwanted advice, eat this or that, try yoga, try my doctor who specialises in the thing that has nothing to do with what you have. So on and so on.

Then the next day it's like they've all hit Erase in their memory slot, because they'll behave like I've explained absolutely nothing or act like they never knew I was sick, and the cycle starts up again. The number of people who retained anything I tell them about my health has been a total of three people, a two of whom have chronic health issues themselves, and one is my therapist.

So no, she's not in the dark, I've explained my health, on her demand, multiple times during the five years I've been working here.

I get aura symptoms with my chronic migraines. And unfortunately there is no public transit in my area, and my family does not want to help me get to and from work as they refuse to believe I have chronic health issues. I have to do everything myself. I'm on preventative medications (monthly injections) that leasen the severity but doesn’t stop them. I repeat, it does not stop them; everyone likes to ignore that part.

So far, because of my chronic digestive issues, most oral painkillers don't work. I've only found one that does anything and it only works about 50% of the time. I had cardiovascular side effects with a painkiller injection I tried so that one's off the table. In short, when I do get symptoms while I'm out of the house, there's nothing for me to do but wait it out.

The coworker wasn't happy about me waiting out my dizziness in the car in the parking lot and started berating me.

I asked her if she has a solution.

I dread every time a coworker approaches me, and especially at the moment I'm having health issues acting up, because I can't manage my health AND deal with people at the same time.

She had to think about it for a moment. Then, "Call your family for help." (Note: remember how I said people never listen? Yeah, that. Because I've been asked this before, by her and others, many, many times, and every single time I give them the same answer they will conveniently not remember in two minutes max. Keep in mind, this whole exchangehas happened multiple times already).

I told her, "They won't help. I've tried asking."

"Why not?"

"They don't believe anything's wrong."

"Did you explain it to them?"

"Yes. All the time for years."

She looked utterly stumped. "Then why don't they help."

"Because they don't believe it." Mind you, I have to keep this up while my body feels like shit and I have to not lose my fucking temper cause it just makes my symptoms worse.

"But why?"

"I don't know, you ask them if you want."

"Did you show them-"

"Medical papers, yes."

"...And they still don't believe it?" And she will forget I told her all of this because that's how it always goes. "Get your doctor to tell them then!"

"Tried it. Nothing."

"Not even when it came from the doctor?" (Reminder, this whole exchange has happened multiple times before lol idk why. I'm convinced nobody actually gives a shit, they just want The Tea. This is all happening while I'm in my car attempting to sooth myself while I have this lady from work standing next to my car talking with me through my window)

"Nah, they said the doctor doesn't know what he's talking about."

"...Okay, maybe you need a new doctor. He's obviously not good if youre still sick."

"It's chronic. There is no cure. I've told you this before. And my doctor is good. She found a preventative medication for me that works."

"But then why are you still sick."

"It's preventative. It's not a cure. I told you this before."

"There has to be a cure. You just haven't looked hard enough."

"The parking lot is empty. Are you going home, or...?"

"Not until you leave."

"Can't right now. Go home. I'll be here a while. Security guard knows that."

"It's fine, I'll wait in my car."

She didn't have much patience. She'd get out of her car and knock on my windshield every three minutes or so to ask if I'm leaving yet.

The whole time I just want and need to be left alone. Again, I do this A LOT. This isn't the first time. But it's the regular for everyone to act like it is.

She refused to leave and I ended up having to force myself to start driving when I didn't feel fully ready; I drove out and parked by some store instead and waited there until I felt stable enough to get myself home. Her staying with me in the parking lot meant well, but it put me in a situation that made it worse, because nobody actually listens to what I have to say.

Telling them I'm fine or that I know what I'm doing or to give me space has never worked. Because, as mentioned before, nobody listens. I had a panic attack in front of my old boss years ago, and I had to reassure her and instructing her to give me space while I trying to breathe.

Instead, she was all over me, shoved a fucking chocolate bar in my mouth for some reason, and kept repeatedly asking me in a panic stuff I couldn't understand because my mind wasn't all there. I did tell her it was just a panic attack and to please keep your voice down, and it was so fucking exhausting carefully giving this woman directions so as to not make things worse for me in the midst of trying to regulate myself like I was navigating a minefield.

Just yesterday, I've vented on here how my coworkers know that certain scents are migrain triggers for me. I've told them the least they could do is put a lid on their coffee cups, and to please not light incense, or light it somewhere other than in tge office where we work. They choose to not listen. They do both, open coffee cup and incense, multiple days a week or every day. And I have no choice but to walk out of the office. I re-explained it again yesterday. Before they went ahead and lit incense an hour later. Today, both coffee withoit lid and incense. So uh, yeah.

I want to believe that it's just that nobody fucking cares to listen to chronically sick people. Because that feels less evil than everyone in my life actively doing it on purpose to cause me pain.

Hoping I can find a work-from-home job soon so I can stop working in offices that drain my health and maybe I can stop having meltdowns from being overestimated by office chatter and office lights and extroverts forcing me into conversations I do not want.

[luminlunii]

I have some more details on Sedgewick in Trek for the Truth! Now, two things before I continue. One, no, there are NO horrible sexual things going on here or anywhere else in this AU! Because, I maybe mean with this AU, but I'm not THAT mean! I'm not putting the characters through that. Plus, that just makes me uncomfy, because reasons. So, we're just going to pretend that those horrible things like that don't exist in this AU! Unrealistic? Sure, but I just don't want it. Second, before anyone calls out any unrealistic issues like how humans might be cruel, but they would recognize this as slavery at this point. Regardless of how they feel/see the fictional characters. You're right, they would and it's still against the law in this universe. That being said, this type of situation I'm about to tell you, with the facility and this place, is like a Dark Web exchange. With that, I will continue. I told you he escapes and lost his hand, but there's more to Sedewick from when he was pawned off to another experimentation facility to his departure. He was pawned off to one of the worst, if not the worst experimentation facilities. Because this one, instead of letting illnesses or over experimentation take its course, they fucking have an auction for the ones that aren't sick. So they can take in more characters in they pick up. At the moment, this might be the only one that does this, but that might change in the future. It depends. Sedgewick, being not sick, was one of those people. He was auctioned off to this abusive rich asshole human to be his personal butler. However, there was still some hope. Since, what this guy is doing is still illegal, even in human terms. All that would need to happen is for this guy's actions to be brought to light and it'd be over. That's what Wick tried to do while he was there. Not just for himself, but for the other characters there in the same situation as him. Despite the very glaring warning signs he shouldn't. He starts to collect evidence, have a documentation diary of all the fucked things that happen there. One day, he "accidentally" leaves it behind with a note saying "Help us" at the dry cleaning. A good person, found it and reported it to the police. The police were only doing their job this time and investigated the situation. However, sadly for Sedgewick, this happened before. So, this guy was prepared and made it look really good favor in his favor. Like painting Wick as a disgruntled underpaid employee and a whole bunch of other things. Cops took that and left. If you're wondering, right after this, yes, this is how Wick loses his hand (or paw?). The guy cut off his hand as a punishment for daring to reach out at all. So, here comes the escape. However, I have like two ways it went down and I'm not sure which one to take for Wick. One is where he poisons all the humans at a party and takes everyone away from there. The other is he stages a coo,the place a blaze and taking everyone away from there. Which one sounds more like something Wick were to do if he were pushed to that point? Either way, he's left and took the other characters with him and ended up at the halfway houses in Canada. Which are part of the organization and are typically resting places for escapees from the facilities to rest before going to the organization. Though, sometimes the non sick ones stay to help the ones who are too sick to be mobile right away. Which is what Wick does.

So sorry I took so long to get back to you Anon! I've been busy with other stuff. :(

I agree with the first point, I can see why you wouldn't want stuff like that in your AU.

And your second point

Holy shit Wick loses a hand.

I don't think Wick has the capacity to stage a coup d'etat. French has so many vowels. So, I think the first option would suit Wick. He's a rich man, so I imagine he's proficient enough to pull off mass poisoning.

[starlight-writer]

FIRST OF ALL: SHIT THAT HURT. why do I do this to myself

Are you happy? Are you proud??? CONGRATULATIONS I GUESS, YOU DID IT AGAIN. this fic hit close to home in its own sadistic way, and I couldn't thank you enough for taking my request. it was perfect, angsty and heartbreaking, no sugarcoating. perfect

On another note, I just wanted to add to something you mentioned about a second part. if it's alright, and sorry in advance since I'm kind of shit at explaining myself clearly as seen in my last ask, I wanted to correct what I really meant by "reader protecting them", as in they are maybe in a similar situation as Marc, Steven and Jake. Perhaps they're also a vigilante caught up in some deep shit and feel the boys deserve better than dealing with them

It's good either way though, just wanted to clarify that. Reader protecting themselves from the moon knight business is a good prompt too, so whatever you chose to go with is great

Once again, thank you

👍

Divorce pt. 3

A/n: Thank you for clarifying! I'll be happy to write reader as a mercenary/physically dangerous person! Also IM SO FUCKING SORRY I TOOK SO LONG TO ANSWER THIS PLEASE FORGIVE ME I LOVE YOUR ASKS BUT TIME JUST GOT AWAY FROM ME SO FAST ;-; (p.p.s I hope this isn't too short and I hope this is what you wanted, you deserve so much compensation :'))

Warnings: talk of violence, talk of depression, talk of guilt, angst, no chance of a happy ending

Gn! reader Masterlist

Steven

He's more likely to believe you as soon as you explain why you left

Only because this isn't something he could see someone lying about

Being a mercenary or someone that lives in violence? That's not something you should lie about

Especially when Marc is seething in the corner of his mind, just begging for a reason to front and yell at you

So he hears you out, makes you a cup of tea

(He'll never admit it, but he still catches himself making an extra cuppa for you late at night)

Steven will end up crying for you

He's mad, of course, but he suddenly feels guilty

Did he make you feel like you couldn't talk to him about this kind of stuff?

Did something he do make you think he would hate you for this?

Steven didn't know, but offered you the utmost comfort

He couldn't stop himself, he just fell back into his old ways and hadn't even realized until Marc yelled at him for it

He kinda pulls away really awkwardly before asking you every single question he could about why you left

And he understands

He doesn't want to, he wants to be mad, he wants to yell and scream and throw things

But he doesn't

And he knows he shouldn't

So he sits patiently and lets you speak

Afterwards, he asks you to leave with a promise of keeping in contact

He's thought of the possibility of your presence getting him in trouble or danger, but he doesn't really care

He's used to danger, at this point he doesn't even mind it

And it's worth it for you

Everything is worth it for you

Marc

Believes you 100%

Not

He thinks you're just trying to save yourself and get rid of any guilt you might have

He doesn't believe for a millisecond, but he lets you explain

You peaked his interest

Really he just wanted to see how far you would take this 'lie'

After that, he starts believing you more and more

Because he knows what life is like being in constant danger and only people who have experienced it can really explain it in such detail

He's the one to be more forgiving about the situation since he did the same thing to Layla

Actually the only one to let you stay at the apartment to fully explain

He's still hurt and feels somewhat responsible, but understands and is more willing to talk with you more about the entire situation

Which surprised Steven and Jake

But they didn't really have room to speak, Marc was the host and it was his decision to hear you out

No matter how angry they were, Steven and Jake still somewhat respected the schedule they were given to front

So by proxy, they heard your explanation and Marc's input on the situation

Marc understood the stress you were under and he wanted to help

He couldn't marry you again, not right now

He couldn't even think about dating you sgain

But he was willing to talk and help you out of the dangerous life you lived

He still loved you no matter what and he'd do anything for you

Even after all the pain he's been in that you, whether you meant to or not, caused

Jake

He doesn't believe you

Not just because he's upset at you, but because how could you hide something like that from him?

He's the protector of the system, the one that sees everything

He's been behind the scenes watching everything constantly and you managed to hide something this big from him?

He feels like a failure

He feels like he shouldn't be a protector anymore

He feels hurt and betrayed and inferior

He will forcibly remove you from the apartment or leave the street he bumped into you on

It takes him days, weeks, months to be able to look at himself again

For a while, he doesn't blame you for the pain you caused, he blames himself

He should've seen this coming

He should've known

He should've seen it

But he didn't and he got Steven, Marc, and himself hurt because of it

After a while, Jake realizes everything you were saying sounded a whole lot like his life before he started fronting more

And now he feels guilty

Gives you a call (because he never deleted your number, he just couldn't) and makes you explain everything in full detail

And then he's silently crying as he realizes you divorced him for him

He still didn't forgive you, but he was coming around

He never stopped loving you and he wanted desperately for some reason to get back together

Because whether or not he'd admit it, he was dying without you

Probably the first one to fully forgive you and ask to be in a relationship again

He needs you like he needs air and he's not above admitting that he's sort of possessive of you

(They all are)

[zozo-01]

HAPPY 200 FOLLOWERS ZO MY BELOVED <33

i'm here in your inbox with a lil fic request for your 200 follower special 👀

how's about the first meeting between our fav arab angel and desi darlin' (like when darlin' first comes back to the pack after having dipped to washington 👀)

Hala, my love, me beloved, one of the best enablers I have. FUCK YEA IMMA WRITE SOME DESI DARLIN' AND ARAB ANGELLL!!!! For since both 'desi' and 'arab' are super broad terms, I'm going to specify it so its Pakistani!Darlin' and Lebanese!Angel. (Jeez I wonder why those two nationalities. >.>)

CW: while Angel is gender neutral, they are described as wearing a hijab

"and where you go (you'll always find a piece of home)."

Angel looked at the itinerary on David's clipboard. Most of it was the usual. Checking up on how the pack is doing, informing them what jobs Shaw Security received and reminding them that covert was still prevalent and had to be maintained. (Asher, can you please stop shifting in front on the Pizza Guy before the Department gets on our ass?)

But at the bottom of the page, they found a special note. A line that he had boldened and underlined, something he only does in special occasions. (Him announcing Angel as his mate was one of those said occasions.)

'Tank's coming back today, and I swear if someone gives them shit, they will be dealt with.'

Oh? Well this meeting just got a whole lot interesting.

Angel hadn't met the famous 'Tank', only knowing of them from the stories the other wolves told them, mainly from Amanda and Milo. From what they gathered, Tank was a loner, a scarred, no-nonsense person who will fight when provoked.

They had asked Milo if Tank and David were the exactly the same. Milo shook his head.

"No, they ain't similar in the slightest. Like, they're similar, but Tank's always been... kinder? I know it sounds like they're mean, but they've always had a soft edge to them, don't let that dead face say otherwise."

Every new piece of information made Angel desperate to meet them, to figure out what kind of person they are. And now they'll get the chance to.

"Here Angel, some of your hair is showing," he says as he tucked their hair back under their scarf. The fact that David would do little things to make them comfortable made their heart swoon. It also meant that people were going to enter soon. That Tank was coming too.

--

For someone who's hyper early to everything, Darlin' sure as hell took their sweet time getting to the meeting.

Thankfully, they timed their arrival perfectly. They weren't too late, nor were they early enough for someone to berate them before the meeting starts. For the record, they were only here because David would absolutely drag their ass to this meeting. (And Sam would be disappointed in them.)

The meeting went on as it always does. Most of it went over their head, though they couldn't hide their smile when David had brought up Asher's Pizza Guy shenanigans. 'Still the same idiot as ever.'

Less important details were shared, causing Darlin' to zone out a bit. They didn't need to retain irrelevant information, and they were here for already an hour. Darlin' deserves to let their mind wander to a certain vampire they've been spending time with.

And by the time they zoned back in, the meeting was over and people were leaving. They took a deep breath. 'It's ok, it's only David, you have dealt with worse.'

"Tank, get over here!"

"Ya Hmar, David! You could have called them over nicely!"

Before they registered that maybe they shouldn't be laughing at their Alpha, Darlin' doubled over laughing. The simple insult had brought back years of old memories, leaving them damn near dying on the ground.

Through teary eyes, they saw David's unimpressed face and his mate's amused expression. Darlin' remembered where they were and who was in front of them, straightening up and wiping the tears off their face. They cleared their throat, apologizing for their outburst.

Before David could start berating Darlin', Angel hesitantly asked them, "so, um, weird question, and super intrusive, so if you don't want to answer I get it..." Angel trailed off, only continuing when Darlin' nodded their head. "Are you maybe Arab? Like I don't see someone laugh like that unless they know what hmar means, but I didn't want to assume-"

Darlin's smile cut the rambling human off. "I'm not Arab, but I'm Pakistani, so I pick up on a lot of arab words." They snickered, "and I got called a hmar a lotttt back home."

"You had Arab friends?" They said it with such shocked, Darlin' thought it was the first time they'd heard a phrase like that.

"Yea, they were Lebanese and-"

"THEY WERE LEBANESE??" Angel pounced on that piece information, asking more questions that Darlin' was willing to answer.

(David, realizing that neither Angel and Darlin' remembering that he is in the room left with a smile. If there was anyone who would bring Tank back it be them.)

An hour go by, and Darlin's cheeks were hurting. When was the last time they laughed this hard? Talked for this long? Reminisced about the days before Dahlia?

Angel fidgeted with their hands. "I'm sorry for keeping you in for this long. It's just- I love the pack, but I can never talk like this," they gestured to the space between them and Darlin', "with them. They just wouldn't... get it."

Darlin' tipped their head back with a smile. "I get it. And if you ever need to talk like this again, hit me up and I'll be there." They held their hand out.

Angel took their hand and shook it. "Being goofy like this, brings me back, ya know? It almost feels like-"

"Like home?"

"Yea, like home."

[neko-naruto]

This... They made this?

Summary: Copen is aware that he really shouldn't be doing what he is, but he really can't help himself, and she left the book lying out in the open; unbeknownst to him, Haku is facing a similar dilemma.

Warnings: None!

Authors Note: This is a gift for @teseo-trolls-u using their OC Haku because I can and its nice knowing I'm not the only person creating for this fandom

He really should not be doing this, and he is highly aware of that fact, but... If you leave your journal open its free game, he tells himself that at least.

So here he sits at Hakus desk, reading a small, pink notebook full of poetry and confessions. He doesn't read the confessions, and he can easily flip past them as they usually have the word 'confess' within the first sentence. He truly can't help but take in every single word of the poems he's reading, all of it sinks in and he'd never be able to wash it out if he wanted to.

But he doesn't want to ever forget these, 'eyes a rich vino,' 'a thousand strands of silver,' 'shining like lode stars,' no, those are sticking with him forever. And it takes a few poems to realize what Haku was writing about, a few more than he'd admit, but when he does realize, he snaps it shut. Deep red rising higher and higher up his neck till it reaches his ears, it matches his eyes, he's internally shook at the words used to describe him.

'Vampire king,' 'hero of eternity,' 'slayer and savior,' he feels extremely, extremely, he doesn't quite know what he feels as he reopens the book and goes back a few pages. He didn't even think it possible for someone to use words to describe him in such splendor and a twisted sense of adoration, he only uses twisted because of one line.

('Even majestic bathed in crimson')

"Did she really write this?" Copen managed to mumble to himself, it wasn't loud enough for anyone but himself to hear, and he suddenly feels like he really shouldn't be where he is.

Entering someones room when they aren't around can be excused, something might've been in there. Taking a few moments to admire the items inside of the room, yeah, that could be brushed off. But actively sitting down and reading something that is most definitely extremely personal, that is one heck of a fuck up.

He's desecrating something sacred, a woman's privacy, but he can't force himself to stop reading and leave; another notebook labeled poetry catches his eye.

He's going to superhell, right now, he does not care.

---

She doesn't exactly think she shouldn't be doing this, because he left them out on the table, kitchen table, for all to see.

So she continues to flip through his sketchbook, some unfinished armor concepts, enemy tactics written in chicken scratch, there are some red pen notes here and there pointing to certain things; she doesn't care about that stuff to much. When she reaches the pages that truly highlight his artistic side, she slows down to really appreciate them, landscapes and portraits, always detailed to the mark, quite lovely.

She memorizes the images, never wanting to forget them, traces her fingers along details she enjoys, hoping it would help her remember the landscapes, she reads the footnotes as well. 'Met the Azure Striker here, he won,' she remembers hearing about that from GV, 'ate some really good food here, hence the sauce stain,' she brought her fingers to the splotch of soy sauce, dried and a light brown, 'I don't why I stopped here, but its a shame pencil can't catch its beauty,' she disagrees with the remark on the pencil. Then she reached the finished concepts and drawings of people she knew, her face heated up when she caught the first drawing of that category.

It was her in one of Copens hoodies, it was oversized on her, she looked like she was practically swimming in it, but he drew her in perfect proportion; she wasn't sure how she felt about that. It wasn't colored, it was shaded, like all the others, she still liked it, she checked the footnote, 'I'm giving her one of my hoodies soon,' she nearly melts. The next drawing, a picture of the Sumeragi school outfit, the edges are bolder, smudges are evident, he even added faint shackles, symbolism perhaps. The footnote reads 'she's to good for them, my assistant in the uniform of such a lowly foundation,' savage, amazing, open thoughts, she's never heard the such from him.

The third drawing, an armor concept, probably for Lola, she assumed it was for Lola given everything about it, but the bodice work wasn't like Lolas, no footnote. She flipped to next page, finer details on the previous pages works, it held a few notes for circuitry and supplies needed, a small footnote 'bikini armor, how low have I dropped' she smiled a bit. The next page had a drawing that looked vaguely like her, the hair at least, wearing said armor, there was a shading to emphasize what she presumed was a bodysuit. This time the footnote said 'fuck, would she even wear a bodysuit?' her face heated up, maybe he was talking about her? Naw, no way, he's far too cool for her, she pushed aside the train of thought to admire the colors, her favorite colors.

She went to close the sketchbook, but, a dog eared page, what could lie beyond it.

Haku spent a moment to think if this was a wise idea, after that moment, she flipped on.

She was gonna be killed if Copen found out about this.

---

Copen was heading down the halls, face red, gait hasty but steady, head down and one small notebook in his arms; he was going to lie to get out of this. He continued his search for Haku until he found her sitting at the kitchen table, flipping through his sketchbook, he was even more embarrassed. He cleared his throat and Haku snapped the book shut before turning to find him holding out the notebook, her notebook.

"I found your notebook in the hallways, I hope you don't mind, but I may have read a few of the poems, it was open when I found it," Copen lied, trying to keep his tone steady, Haku took the notebook, clutching it to her chest, "did, did you see the armor concepts?"

"Ah, yes, I'm sure Lola will love them," Haku said before gripping the sketchbook to hand to Copen, he took it, she deftly ignored the shade of his face.

"They aren't for Lola," Copen muttered quietly, he took note of the shift in Hakus expression before turning to leave, "I'll stop bothering you, thanks for finding my sketchbook."

Haku couldn't respond, words stuck in her throat as Copen walked away, unable to procure a coherent response.

She knew exactly what he meant.

How could she respond?

[just-an-enby-lemon]

oh man i just saw your reply to my ask and it's really good, i know it is basically the same general plot outline but the details you described like the scene with the neighbor (who i had completely forgotten about. it's been a few months) and about the mother's current living situation and the description of the visit were so good and made it way better than my basic one, and actually made me a bit sad.

i found it interesting that you mentioned Ed "tugging at his hair" though since the original design doesn't have that, would you have changed his design from the original too? and how would you change the ending of the comic? i have ideas for that too (although i could not send them yet because it's a lot) but i am more curious about yours

Oh. Thank you. I still think yours was better but I'm glad I was abble to make you feel something.

About the hair detail what if I said I just forgot about his original desing? I shouldn't but I haven't actually read the full comic in a month or so and it really just escaped me for a second. The whole tugging his hair was because I was looking to the beta ideas for characther desings on the Arkham games and one of the notes added that Edward's hair should become messier as the game progresses because he tugs it as an OCD nervous tic and I just really liked it. But no. I would keep the original desing. Exept for the green eye make-up mimicking the mask and the weird mascara. I'm all for Eddie using make-up but they make it too Joker like. Instead I would keep a more tradicional green eye shadow with the glasses as a substitute for the mask (as he really wouldn't have the mask on Arkham any way) and maybe blurry it in an emotional distress scene. Besides that the desing is totaly fine. I really just hate the eye shadow thing and how during his scene with Gordon he looks like I do when I try to aply mascara because I'm not good with it.

About the end I have some vague ideas but nothing concrete. I think I would have made so the random man death have an actual valid motivation instead of it being an statement that he can kill without leaving clues (the fact he used that as clue for Batman to discover his intent is something that really drives me mad, the moment Bruce says that I though the plot twist in the end would be that Edward only thinks he isn't leaving clues anymore but nooo let's just ignore that he made Batman uncover his statement because fuck it). Maybe have the fact that the death seems random be that it wasn't part of the game (wich would relate to the wife's coment about how everything is game), maybe the guy was another person (an ex paramour or an ex teacher or an Arkhan psychiatrist) that Edward though could help him with his identity crisis but instead he just made things worse and Edward killed him in a dissociative episode so the end is about Bruce understanding Edward better and maybe not fully answer (as only Edward can) but actually offer an insight over why Riddler is what he is before sending him to Arkham wich would end his crime spree but make so Edward started to get once again obcessed with Bruce as he is the only person that understands him, the only person (including himself) for whom he is more than an enigma. Basically Riddler misanderstands everything and what could lead him to a redenption just drives him further on his obcession because while I think I could easily turn it into a redemption arc it doesn't appear to be what DC wants with this stories. (also can I say that for me the only reason Batman kills Edward besides Tom King weird obcession with portraying Eddie as math emotionoless Joker is because they wanted to recreate the ambiguiuty at the end of the Killing Joke where is implied Bruce may have killed Joker).

[harbingrs]

Starting to tag 'undescribed' for reblogs without image descriptions. Yes, it would be ideal if I could add them, but I can't - and not for reasons I can circumvent like learning how to write them better or asking for help, but because it instantly spirals me into being unable to regulate my behaviour. (And I do write descriptions for my original posts, since those are finite and rare).

More detail below - but I'm genuinely not trying to make someone else's accessibility issue all about me, so probably don't read this if you're a stranger (or I guess if you're dealing with a similar issue) but if I could keep this out of search completely, I would. I am not trying to get this post in front of people who need or advocate for image descriptions because it is a Me Problem, I just can't 100% control who sees this.

Note that I'm talking explicitly about moral OCD thoughts/compulsions, in case that might be triggering.

I'm aware of how ridiculous it is, but my moral OCD + ADHD + autism combo means that any time I start adding descriptions to reblogs - even just "when I'm able to" or "when I have time" - I can't regulate my own behaviour enough to stop (which is necessary for me to actually get work done).

Every reblog and every undescribed image becomes a crossroads where I can do the Good Thing or not, and how could I choose not to do the Good Thing? And it's the kind of simple, repetitive task that I get mentally locked into feeling like I can't control my actions (in an executive function sense) until something forces me to break the pattern.

Any time I've tried to challenge myself on this, thinking that I just need to try harder and do better and contribute a little when I can, that it shouldn't be such a big deal, I end up missing a full day of work because I get so locked in (and I'm self-employed so there are no external guardrails here). I can easily lose a full day before something forces me to stop (like not being able to go any longer without eating or sleeping).

Things like limiting myself to X number of descriptions per day or setting a timer don't work, because it immediately becomes a moral OCD intrusive thought/compulsion spiral every time I see a post where I COULD add an image description (even if I wasn't even planning to reblog it) and don't. Or I could go back through everything I've ever reblogged, and the 7000 posts in my drafts, and so on.

It's frustrating because it's an objectively silly problem to have, and posts about how there are no excuses, if you don't have the spoons for descriptions then just don't post, etc just make the obsessive-compulsive cycle worse. If it came down to 'add descriptions to every reblog or leave Tumblr' I would genuinely have to choose the latter, because I just can't engage with it safely with the way my brain is right now. I hope that's not always the case and I can get to a point where I can, even just to the point where it's /challenging/ and requires work but it's possible.

And I totally get why it's like 'your issues here are not the problem of people who need this accessibility feature' - which is why I'm not trying to bring it to anyone's attention and would never say this ON posts about image descriptions. I can only turn off reblogs and unfortunately can't keep this post out of search completely.

It's just one facet of a broader problem when it comes to any kind of activism or mutual aid or generally Doing Good. I can't safely regulate the time, energy or money I put into things once the obsessive-compulsive cycle starts - and with auADHD in the mix, it hijacks my executive functioning to the point where I feel completely out of control. And with OCD, the more you do the compulsion (ie. doing activism) the more it escalates.

And it fucking sucks. It truly sucks to be a person who genuinely gives a shit but can't separate Doing Good from a devastating mental illness. It fucking sucks.

And yes, I know what people will think by now - that there's no excuse for not doing things I should, and that it's my responsibility to fix it and get a handle on it in order to do that. I don't have access to treatment for this, and while I do try to work on it myself and push myself in order to break the obsessive-compulsive patterns, I genuinely have no chance of building those skills/abilities if I go straight for my biggest triggers. I've tried over and over and it never works, regardless of how hard I'm trying.

I don't know, I know /anything/ I say about this just lands in "it's your ethical responsibility to resolve anything that gets in the way of doing the right thing, period." And I know that how intensely I feel about /that/ is informed by my moral OCD as well. My brain just wants to substitute the original issue with "it's your moral responsibility to do /whatever it takes/ to fix this at any cost" or "whatever you have to sacrifice to do the right thing is what you need to do".

And that's part of the problem - that my moral OCD has no concept of what is reasonable or healthy to sacrifice in order to help other people. Whatever I do, it will never be good enough, because instead of making a sandwich, I could've eaten plain bread and donated that money I spent on sandwich fillings to someome who needs it more. OCD is always chasing Perfection and every single minor decision in my life becomes a missed opportunity to Do Good that causes me constant anxiety and guilt.

And it's so shameful to even talk about, knowing people will roll their eyes at how dramatic it is, like I'm making such a martyr of myself and /especially/ that I'm making other people's need or suffering all about me. But these are genuinely intrusive thoughts that don't reflect any kind of rational belief or value system I have. If it sounds like I'm making myself a martyr or a victim, it's not a choice I'm making to be self-centred - it's just a goddamn affliction in the same way that other forms like contamination OCD (which I also deal with) are. It feels like something being done to me that I don't want and didn't ask for and don't want any part in.

And then I know that fearing I'll be judged as a bad person for THAT is also part of the OCD, and so on, and so on. I don't even know if I'll be able to keep this post up - and then I know that saying things like that to pre-emptively protect myself from judgement also sounds manipulative like I'm setting myself up to play the victim - and then I also know that overthinking /that/ is part of my OCD - etc. This post could go on forever with me attempting to qualify whatever I just said and then immediately needing to qualify THAT.

It's safest to say nothing, do nothing, delete any posts I make because there's no chance of it going wrong, cut myself off from other people because I can't mess things up, and to always always turn internally and just try be better by any means necessary, to be as harsh and strict on myself as possible to Do The Right Thing. To end up deleting any post I make, not only to remove the risk but also to punish myself, that I don't get to /have that/ until I can be good enough - unless I can make a post that feels completely flawless, that's completely beyond reproach, I don't get to say anything at all.

And once again I'm making myself out to be a whiny victim, etc. Kinda interesting how OCD can look exactly like a personality disorder from the outside - disproportionate emotions, rapid mood swings, dramatic or histrionic or self-victimising behaviour, cycles of self-punishment or hot-and-cold relationships (due to push-pull kind of compulsions). Moral OCD symptoms are easily read as a kind of hero complex or martyr complex or self-aggrandisement.

It's no wonder that the DBT techniques I tried weren't helping me like they "should". Trying to identify and better manage my own emotions doesn't help when the driver is intrusive thoughts and compulsions, not simply intense emotions. Radically accepting your thoughts and feelings is an impossible ask without recognising the nature of intrusive thoughts, that they /aren't/ reflective of your organic feelings or values.

I don't really know how to end this. I don't usually make personal posts, and if I do, they aren't up for long. I genuinely just meant to note I was trying out tagging 'undescribed' and this kinda fell out. And I'm trying really hard to resist the need to go back and retag EVERYTHING on this blog because I know I won't be able to stop. I am tired.