#Couples drug treatment

[naamahdarling]

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[dimiclaudeblaigan]

uh-oh she's gushing about shinon again and it's super long

So you guys know I love Shinaff. BUT!!! I would like to explain to you part of how that came to be, i.e. how Janaff's supports with Shinon were both different and important!!! In other words, a direct exploration of his development involving laguz and how he's turning out for the better post Janaff A support and RD (and how it makes the most sense to have their A support slotted between the beginning of PoR and the end of RD for a full progression of his development)!

First of all, Shinon only has three supports; so unlike most characters, every line counts and needs to hold more weight to his conversations.

Rolf and Gatrie's supports portray different sides of him: the mentor and the friend. What we see in these supports is stuff we essentially already knew about him, but we're given more depth. The thing to note here is, again, we already knew these things about him. This is the man we started with.

What we don't get in these supports is proper development. Janaff is the only support he has that gives him that. Janaff's supports with him are the only ones that gives him any self reflection and improvement. This isn't necessarily a bad thing for the other supports, but it's more that it props up these ones a little bit more.

Also, when you get to RD, Shinon comes off as though he's already gotten this development. He feels like he's grown as a person. While that makes sense, from a player's perspective, we didn't really see that development in him (like we would have with characters like Ike, Mist, Soren, etc)... unless you supported him with Janaff.

In RD, Shinon has Gatrie and Rolf as bonded by defaults. These are basically internal bonds in RD - ones that aren't needed by supports. You can carry over support data from PoR to RD, and characters will receive a bond with the character they A supported. For some, like Ranulf and Ike, these bonds will be there regardless of if they got an A support.

That means that even without supporting them in PoR, Shinon will bonded to these two by default. Janaff is his only other support, so if they reach an A support and that data is carried over to RD, he now has his full list of supports bonded to him. Mind you, that's a liiittle bit of a big deal (and kinda cool to me!) as nobody else can do that (or almost nobody, since I'm not totally positive what Stefan and Volke's situations are and would have to check on that in my game, as the only other characters with an extremely low amount of supports).

So why do I say that's important? Because the only character he won't have by default as a bond is Janaff. You have to go out of your way to get their support bond (and when I say out of your way, I mean it pretty literally if you don't normally use one or both of them, due to how PoR's support system works). Janaff is the only character Shinon has to build up a bond with from scratch, which is something the player has to decide to do.

Gatrie and Rolf are the base - the bare minimum. It's given to you, no questions asked. Shinon doesn't have to develop as a person to have those bonds. When Janaff arrives in 3-7, if they were A supported in PoR (and your data was carried over), he and Shinon automatically have their bond show up in the bond list on each of their profiles as of the turn Janaff is on the map. This also means they can get a double A support, which is, again, something Shinon has very few options for.

Without Janaff, Shinon doesn't get that extremely direct development. In RD it's assumed all the characters had development of some sort (example, Shinon is much more chilled out and takes a much more active role in watching out for the GMs and making sure they're properly funded). However, with the way Shinon's development toward laguz went, you'd think something must have happened for him to change his mind.

However, it's an uncontestable fact that Ike stated everyone in the GMs decided to stay knowing full well they'd be fighting for the Laguz Alliance:

"I told the others they could leave if they didn’t want to work with laguz, but everybody decided they’d rather stay. Don’t worry about it, Ranulf."

If they didn't want to work with laguz (Shinon and Soren would be the primary candidates he brought this up for), they didn't have to go. They didn't have to take part. They didn't have to be there. Shinon decided to stay despite fully aware they would be the only beorc there. That's development already... but if he supported Janaff, it starts to make more sense and feels like a proper linear path for his development.

"But DCB, he was racist toward Lyre!" Sure! He's not perfect and there's still room for growth. In fact, Shinon started out calling her a sub-human but referred to her as a laguz when Gatrie was the only one left to hear him, so he either:

is trying to keep up appearances in front of laguz he doesn't like, using sub-human to their face but not using that term in private anymore (or to laguz he doesn't hate, i.e. Janaff in their A support where he catches himself about to use that term. Though he wasn't quite ready to say "laguz" yet, he stopped himself from using "you sub-humans" and instead said "you guys").

slipped up in using sub-human (from habit*) and called her a laguz when speaking to Gatrie because he's becoming more used to using that term regularly. That is to say, it's becoming more natural for him to say.

If you got his A support with Janaff, it makes sense that he slips up sometimes still but is trying to speak more properly about laguz. Getting out of old habits is hard. Feeling differently about something you've had a steady mindset for (in his case for 27 years as per his support with Janaff) is hard. There will be slip ups.

*It's possible Shinon uses "sub-human" as an insult aimed at individuals he doesn't like while not meaning it toward others (i.e. he doesn't like Kyza and Lyre). Yes, this is a big flaw! He could very well be using a racist term to express distaste toward someone specific but not mean it toward the whole of laguz. It's still racist and shouldn't be done, but the fact that he turned around and said "laguz" only a couple sentences later (if that) means that something is kicking in and some gears are turning.

Again, if you look at his A support with Janaff, he wasn't even at the point of using "laguz" at all! If you consider their A support part of his linear development, he starts as he is in PoR, supports Janaff and goes through their conversations while seeing laguz differently now, and ultimately ends at respecting Janaff. Despite this, he's not ready to use "laguz" yet because he experiences with laguz to date, prior to Janaff, had all been presumably negative enough for him to develop this racist mindset.

Linearly, that brings us to RD. He's suddenly fine staying with the GMs and fighting a war on behalf of the Laguz Alliance, even when he was directly given an out. Next, we have him refer to a laguz as a laguz - something he wasn't able to do yet in PoR.

Does the linear progression stop there? Not if you supported Janaff! Following those things, again, when Janaff arrives in 3-7, their bond will show up in their profiles. These bonds are separate from RD support bonds in that they're basically saying these characters were bonded before the events of RD and thus have special bonuses near each other, regardless of if you support them in RD.

So where does this lead us? Well, like in PoR, we start to lose focus on the GMs as a whole and only end up with focus on a few of them. Our next line of progression can only come from supports again. These are notable and extremely important if he's supported with a laguz.

If it's Janaff you support him with in RD, he gets one of his standard support quotes in battle. Maybe you're thinking that sounds unimpressive and unimportant... but this means he's responding to Janaff as someone he's familiar with and not treating differently from the others (which is not the case when responding to several others, which I'll get to). Normally you'd expect him to treat a laguz differently, but he speaks with Janaff like he would to any beorc.

It gives off an air of familiarity - like they already know each other, are passed all that nonsense and aren't even thinking about it anymore. This is, of course, the case regardless of if you supported them in PoR (but again, I find their PoR supports to be important in terms of a proper, full linear progression of Shinon's development, which is something not every character actually even gets, i.e. they don't get a fully fleshed out and ongoing development story between both games if they're not a main character).

It's almost like it's considering that you may have gotten their PoR supports. It has to leave it up in the air as to whether or not you did, because it'd be odd if he was suddenly treating Janaff like they weren't as familiar with each other after getting their PoR supports. In other words, by default, their relationship in RD is not as bad as it starts in PoR in their C support. It feels like they've already supported and are closer now to be at this point.

So why is it important that he acts no different with Janaff than anyone else? Because he does act different near laguz kings. He's given special, personalized lines to the laguz kings and refers to them sincerely as laguz. Important to note is that the laguz kings only become playable in part four (Tibarn and Naesala) and Endgame (Caineghis).

These are characters he would have absolutely no chance at having any development with in either game prior (even if you consider time spent in PoR, Tibarn and Naesala are not playable until the final chapter and you can only pick one of them. Caineghis, plain and simple, is not even an option). That means his supports with them are the very beginning of their relationship.

This is by part four. There's been development since part three in his character that we don't see. He's now openly referring to them as only "laguz" (remember, he was back and forth earlier in RD). He treats them with respect.

"But DCB, of course he does! They're kings! They're powerful!" But the Shinon we started out with in PoR wouldn't have cared less. To him back then a sub-human was a sub-human. Even as allies, he wouldn't have respected them (re: his C support with Janaff). Instead, here, in RD with these supports, he can talk with laguz directly, refer to them as such, and give them respect.

He also doesn't start out being intentionally racist toward them. He's at the point, by the time he can support the laguz kings, where he skips right past the active "sub-human" bullshit.

What do I mean by that? Well... I mean with Tibarn, he almost says sub-human but catches himself and doesn't just say "you guys" like he did with Janaff in their A support (which came before his C support with Tibarn if you consider his development linear and including Janaff). He corrects himself, and instead uses "a king" - similar to his "you guys" pull back, but outright referring to him as a king is actually a step above that (and again, this is their C support).

King Tibarn. It seems like a sub-hu– I mean–a king such as yourself can hold your own.

He's learning! He's growing! He's maturing! He's realizing he can get out of that mindset! All his experiences prior to PoR, based on his supports with Janaff, would imply he's only ever known that he has to protect himself against them. He never got to actually meet one. When he did, it was hard to pull himself out of old habits for new experiences. He was trying for Janaff, but he wasn't quite there yet. Here, he does something very similar.

With the other kings, he just outright refers to them as kings with no stumbles.

Hey, Lion King! Of anybody here, it seems like you’d be just fine.

Raven King, you seem all right. No need to be babied, I hope.

Mind you, the latter is pretty standard Shinon in personality. It's unrelated to Naesala being a laguz. However, both are these are completely respectful as a person talking to another person.

For his B supports we have:

I thought you were the all-conquering King Caineghis! And yet, you mess up. Bizarre. You better stay by me.

Hawk King, whew, even you mess up sometimes. Kinda makes me nervous. You better stay by me.

Raven King–your fighting? Not good. Just…stay by me and let me handle this.

Bizarre, he says, that one of the strongest people he knows is having trouble. He's actually surprised. No comment about how sub-humans suck or anything, not here!

Similarly, even Tibarn messes up sometimes. He's surprised. He expects basically perfectly from Tibarn (so this presumes he has positive expectations of him from what he knows of Tibarn).

Naesala's fighting isn't good? Well what does PoR Shinon care! Let him die! But that's not RD Shinon (and remember, these quotes could've been anything else considering he got specifically personalized quotes with these three, and personalized quotes for RD supports are somewhat few and tend to be for specific pairs).

Stay by me, he says! The same things he'll say to anyone! To any beorc and to any laguz. Again, personalized quotes did exist and they were there for certain pairs. Those pairs got special quotes specifically for their relationship). He didn't avoid saying "stay by me" just because they were laguz.

Mind you, his support quotes with these three are much more respectful than usual Shinon. He's very, uh, hilariously Shinon (there is a word for this, however at this time I cannot think of it 😔. I am not thinking of sarcastic, I am thinking of... something else. Granted, these lines are directed to Reyson and Rafiel, who technically can't fight... so I'll give him a break on that one) in most of his quotes, and some don't sound particularly respectful ("Prince ___, it’s really hard to watch you fight. Why don’t you stay by me and let me handle this?").

Now for the A supports (and BOY HOWDY I'M EATIN' GOOD HERE)...

You know, I’m not one for making friends and being nice. But, Caineghis, I gotta say, you are one bad laguz. In a good way! Hang in there.

I gotta admit… I didn’t like you when I first met you. But, Prince ___, I hope you make it through all this. I was wrong about you.

You know, I really don’t care who lives and who dies. But, Hawk King, for a laguz– hey, for anyone–you seem pretty decent. I hope you make it.

You know, I never thought I’d say this, but… King ___, I’m thinkin’ you should live. Don’t ask me why! Just a crazy notion. Maybe I like you?

Not one for making friends and being nice in general, with beorc, but he's befriending a laguz? Well now! What would PoR Shinon pre-Janaff say!

If you need me to explain the lines to Reyson and Rafiel to you, I have no hope for you at this point. If you can't read "I was wrong about you" and understand what that means, you might need to go back to school. In fact you definitely do.

For a laguz - no, scratch that because that doesn't fucking matter anymore - for anyone - you seem pretty decent (<-- this is the way Shinon talks to everyone).

Maybe he likes Naesala? Maybe they're friends? Maybe he just admitted he's fond of a laguz? Maybe he just said he likes a laguz??? Gosh jolly, early PoR Shinon is rolling in his grave!

So uhhh, what does this have to do with Janaff? Well, like I said, I feel like their supports slot perfectly into Shinon's development that's going to exist anyway. It's like the middle part of it that you get to see but also may miss out on. It's like jumping from PoR to RD and wondering what on earth happened in between to bring Shinon to that point... and if you consider his A support with Janaff, it makes sense that that's what happened. It fills that gap, and it also slots in perfectly with where he is in his development as a character between two games.

Timeline:

PoR start - Shinon hates laguz. He seems to hate them for reasons unknown. Greil dies; Shinon leaves. Chapter 18 is reached and Shinon is recruited back into the GMs. Despite that the GMs are now working with the Crimean army which has actively allied itself with the beast and bird tribes, Shinon whatevers his way through that fact and rejoins. He'll tolerate, he guesses. Fam is here.

Cue Janaff supports. New birb, who dis, except he's rude! Yes folks, it was Janaff who was rude first (his lines were also very Janaff... who is very like Shinon, so it makes sense that would get a negative reaction from Shinon even if he was a beorc). Shinon is set off and now thinks he was right to hate laguz. Look at this annoying birb face and his dumb lil hat!!! Better threaten to kill him just to be safe...

B support, they're having a conversation and learning from each other because Janaff came over to apologize. He knows he was in the wrong to nag at Shinon just for being an unfamiliar face. Shinon is still pissy though because it's a goddamn birb with a hat!!! Their conversation is a mix of ugh fuck this annoying guy to actually talking things out... and Shinon admitting why he hates laguz - because he's always needed to protect himself from "those half breeds". Sounds like his only experiences were very negative, so he ends up racist. Well, Janaff was also racist until very recently for similar reasons, and he used to think all beorc liked to kill. He, too, had misconceptions that bred a racist hatred. Now, though, with Shinon talking to him, he's realized he was wrong about beorc and is open to seeing things differently. Shinon backtracks, realizing he's having this conversation with the birb with a hat and wonders why.

A support, they talk more and it's getting better... and Janaff not only admits to relating to Shinon - which is a nice touch because they're two sides of the same coin who are both still very much learning about each other's races - and mind you Janaff was racist at 110 years old so he's been doing this shit for a while! It was because he talked with Shinon and learned more about beorc that, on top of what Ike did for Leanne, he's being more open minded now. Janaff, understanding where Shinon is coming from (ignorance and misconceptions), is much more polite and kind to him. Shinon, in response, backtracks when he almost uses the racist term "sub-human" so as not to offend Janaff, leaves off here respecting him and, when Janaff has to leave because the support is over, calls him back because he wants to hear more about the world from him because Janaff has lived for so much longer. Maybe the birb with the hat isn't so bad at all after all!!

From here the GMs fight with laguz allies until the end of PoR. Two or three years pass idk shit's inconsistent I guess, and we get to RD.

By this point Shinon has already been in an army that allied with and fought alongside laguz, and maybe that's tempered his feelings. When given an out from joining the other GMs in their aiding of the Laguz Alliance, and as the only beorc, he chooses to stay with the group.

At this point he's back and forth with "sub-human" and "laguz". There's definitely improvement, but old habits still get out sometimes. Still though, he's progressed from "you guys" to outright using "laguz".

The laguz kings join in the fight against Ashera. Shinon can support them, getting personalized quotes specifically for them (and for the herons). With Tibarn, he catches himself and corrects what he almost said - something he did once before with Janaff as per this linear timeline. That's the only instance left of a mistake in his wording. By now he's not using "sub-human" at all (B and A support with Tibarn or C-A with Caineghis or Naesala), or he's freely and without stumbling using "laguz" with no "you guys" esque backtrack.

This is obviously only one aspect of Shinon's development, i.e. the development of him growing out of racism similar to Janaff, and there are more aspects to him that did develop and grow throughout both games, but this post was specifically to highlight the importance of having Janaff there as part of his growth. Without it, it's like a blank, empty spot in his development where you don't know how it started happening and to such a degree (how did he go from outright using sub-human to using laguz at all? It feels like there had to be something in the middle of that growth, and without Janaff's supports it's just missing.

With them though, it's quite clear how he reasonably went from sub-human to "you guys" to laguz with some slip ups (ones that he corrects himself with if he actually respects the person, in this case Tibarn. He didn't bother correcting it with Lyre and Kyza because he didn't like them, which again, is still a flaw, but that was prior to his ability to support the laguz kings. It would be more reasonable to say he's starting to grow out of using "sub-human" just to specific people as an insult by this point.

Mans ain't perfect, but he's trying and he's working on it. Why is that without Janaff involved in his development? I 'unno, I guess he just had some random offscreen development between the games. With Janaff though? It actually works, fits and makes sense. It feels like that part of his development is meant to be there, as it compliments his development going forward.

that's it that's all i had to say bye now

[mutalune]

hey siri how do I stop feeling gutwrenchingly anxious in the guilt way for using the treatment methods available to me to not be in constant misery

[anotherpapercut]

something I always forget to mention w psychedelics bc I take it for granted as a given is the afterglow. idk if this is common knowledge but most people report feeling a continuation of the happiness they feel on drugs like LSD/psilocybin/MDMA/ketamine for weeks or even months after a dose which is part of why these drugs have all been used therapeutically, for some since they were first synthesized

[betweeninstrumentsandbooks]

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[swagging-back-to]

im so sus about the whole 'you NEED to use antibiotics for any sign of uri! it will never get better on its own!!"

bc like.... all mice have mycoplasma. if mice were barely able to go a week without getting a uri and without being able to fight it then mice would not exist. period.

unless uris are comparable to sepsis in mice, which they arent, because they can go months with one untreated.

[yandere-daydreams]

Screening: Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978).

Pairing: Yandere!Carlisle Cullen x Reader (Twilight).

Word Count: 2.1k.

TW: Wildly Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Medical Malpractice, Blood, Controlling Behavior, Deliberate Social Isolation, Misuse of Prescription Drugs, and Generalized Twilight. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

It might’ve just been the isolation getting to you, but you were starting to think that your doctor wasn’t completely human.

Not that you’d ever say so out loud. At best, it was awful thing to think about a man who’d only ever been kind to you and, at worst, it proved yet another symptom to your ever-developing, ever-worsening illness had cropped up and would need further treatment to correct. You knew better than to say things that would make you seem more sick than you already were, but it was hard to stop yourself from lingering on the idea – especially considering you only had books, sleep, and his company to pass the endless time. Admittedly, it’d been a while since you’d seen another person, but you could’ve sworn he was paler than he should’ve been, to the point of bloodlessness. He never ate or drank around you, but sometimes when he spoke, the light would catch on his teeth in a way that made them look too sharp, too prominent. You might’ve been dreaming, but once, after you took your medicine but just before you fell asleep, you swore you saw him taking the cap off of the blood sample he’d taken a few minutes prior, like he planned to do something aside from—

You heard a door open and instantly, your paranoia was dismissed in favor of more interesting stimuli. In this case, that came in the form of your doctor, Carlisle Cullen, stepping into your bedroom, an inhumanly perfect smile already painted across his inhumanly perfect lips.

…maybe you should tell somebody about your little conspiracy. If only to be absolutely sure that you were really losing your mind.

“Good morning,” he said, and it occurred to you that you hadn’t thought to check the time, yet. Your life existed in three states: alone, asleep, and with Carlisle. Only that last one really mattered – the other two could easily be lumped into the same category helpfully labeled ‘waiting for Carlisle’s next visit’. “Have you been keeping yourself busy?”

“I’ve only been awake for a couple hours,” you explained, shrugging as he took his usual seat in the chair left next to your bed. He was always polite enough to ask about the boring details of your day, and you were always embarrassed enough to skirt around just how little you had the energy for. Most of the time, it was all you could do to pull yourself out of bed and yourself to eat before retreating back into your little safe haven. On a good day, you’d be able to go for a walk, maybe respond to a few of the calls you were constantly missing, but most days weren’t very good. “Reading, mostly. Thanks again for the recommendation.”

The book he’d lent you – a dry historical drama with characters as bland as water and a plot as boring as sin – sat open on your lap, but you’d only gotten through half a chapter before giving up. It was hard to believe Carlisle was only a few years older than you, sometimes. You couldn’t imagine how someone who seemed so young could have such awful taste.

Still, he looked pleased, his pleasantly aloof expression taking on a defined note of satisfaction. “It’s important to keep your mind occupied while your body’s recovering. You wouldn’t want to waste all of my hard work by letting yourself die of boredom, now, would you?”

“No, doctor.” It was stupid to try, but he’d set himself up for it. You couldn’t seem to stop yourself, your heart beating just a little faster as you grasped blindly for the impossible. “You know, there’s this friend of mine who keeps asking when she’ll be able to visit, and I thought it might help pass the time if—”  

“You’ll have to find a way to let her down.” Carlisle’s voice was smooth, calm. You did your best not to sulk, but still, he let out a labored sigh, only a touch too professional to roll his eyes. “It’s for the best. It’s good that you stay active, but you know what’ll happen if you overexert yourself, don’t you?”

Vaguely. It was hard to remember the details of your condition, and you weren’t in the mood for another lecture. “I do, doctor.”

“And you’re going to behave your check-up, aren’t you?”

“I am, doctor.”

“And that’s why you’re my favorite patient.” Your compliance was rewarded with a beaming smile, an appeased nod as he pulled his old-fashioned leather doctor’s bag into his lap. “We better make good on that promise before you change your mind, then.”

You didn’t protest. Honestly, you didn’t say much of anything. You never talked during your exam, preferring to let Carlisle go through the necessary motions with as little interference as possible. Instead, he filled the silence with mindless chatter about his children and how they were doing at the local public school, the hospital’s ongoings since you were unofficially discharged, and your favorite – Forks’ particularly colorful smalltown gossip, from the sheriff’s wayward daughter moving back into town to the spike in bear sightings on the local hiking paths. “It’ll be a busy week,” he mentioned, as he finished taking your blood pressure. “You might have some unexpected company, after all.”

At that, you perked up. You met nearly all of Carlisle’s assistants (medical students, you guessed, judging by their ages) by now, and even if you didn’t care for all of them, it was still nice to see someone other than him. Your least favorites were the dark haired twins – the wiry boy who always seemed to be biting back a smirk and the pixie-like girl who always acted like she knew something you didn’t – and you were particularly fond of the blonde girl… Rosemary, or maybe Rosaline. She was nice, compassionate, kind enough to keep you company even when Carlisle wasn’t in the room. More importantly, she brought interesting books – romance and horror, novels like Dracula and Carmilla and Interview with a Vampire, always handing over with a sweet smile and a hushed reminder not to let Carlisle know she was breaking his rules. Looking back on it, you probably shouldn’t have accepted anything she tried to give you. You would’ve hated for her to get in trouble just because she was trying to be nice.

Rather than voicing your overwhelming bias, you watched intently as he slipped the loose cuff off of your arm, tucking it back into his bag and removing something else, something long and silver and sharp. Immediately, your gaze shot back to your lap, your throat going dry in an instant. The next time you managed to spit something out, it was nearly too quiet to be audible. “…is there any chance we could, uh, I don’t know,” You paused, shrunk into yourself. “…skip the phlebotomy, this time?”

Carlisle’s answer was as swift as it was ruthless. An airy laugh, a jagged twist to this smile as he took up the needle properly and turned it over in his hand, looking for defects. It was already attached the glass syringe and, even worse, an empty vial; just a touch bigger than you remembered it being, the day before. “And take that kind of risk? How little do you think of me, (Y/n)?”

“It’s not you, it’s just—I already feel a little faint, and you take one every day, and—” You cut yourself off, inhaling sharply. “I just don’t know if it’s really necessary. Considering how careful you are and everything.”

“You’re right, I am careful. Which is exactly why I have to do this each and every time I come to see you.” He sighed, shook his head – suddenly more of a patronizing, paternal figure than any kind of medical professional, let alone peer. “You understand, don’t you? Without regular testing, your condition may worsen, and if you get any sicker than you are now…” You stiffened as he trailed off, bracing yourself. You knew what came next, what always came next.

“You’ll have to go back to the hospital, angel.”

It was strange, how a voice as smooth and as beautiful as his could be so difficult to listen to.

You didn’t like Carlisle. You hated his condescending smile, his repetitive rambling, his terrible taste in books and his creepy little students. You hated how little he let you do, how he talked about your illness – always skirting around the details, never giving you enough information to know whether you were on the verge of dying or a few days away from making a full recovery. No, when you were honest with yourself, you didn’t like him. Hated him, even.

But you couldn’t go back to the hospital, with its blank white walls and sobbing patients and strange, mind-altering drugs that put your sleep and made you feel like someone was biting into your throat. It’d been a miracle when Carlisle first told you about his domestic services, when he offered to have you discharged in exchange for only the promise that you wouldn’t seek care that didn’t come from him. Arrangements were made, your rent and bills taken over by some nameless, faceless local charity, and for the first time in months, you got to go home. You could live with Carlisle and his once weekly, now daily check-ups. You could live with the fact that you didn’t remember the last time you’d gotten to make a decision for yourself.

And, if you had to, you could live with paying for your freedom in blood, too. As long as it meant you didn’t have to go back to that terrible place.

Once again, you didn’t say anything, but you didn’t resist as he sighed and ran a sterilizing pad over your forearm, the antibiotic strong enough to burn. You clenched your eyes shut, but that did nothing to block out the feeling of a thin elastic band being wrapped around the crook of your elbow, of his needle pushing through your skin and burrowing into the vein underneath it. There was a second of pressure, of knotted soreness, and then, the syringe was gone and you were left feeling just a little colder, just a little more empty than you had before.

Even after opening your eyes, you kept them trained on your lap. You easily could’ve spent the rest of his visit in silence, but metal clinked against glass as he rushed to cap his vial and suddenly, you needed to hear the sound of your own voice. “I think I might be getting paranoid,” you managed, with a breath of a laugh. “For a few minutes this morning, I was able to convince myself that you were… I don’t know, an alien studying humanity, or something.”

“If I was, I’m sure that I would still pick you as the best possible specimen for my examination.” It was hollow comfort, but you smiled anyway, nodding along. Your medication came next, in the form of a small, chalky white pill that you still struggled to swallow under Carlisle’s vigilant gaze. You managed to choke it down, though, and as always, the effects were instant; a sudden clearness, blankness, followed shortly by an exhaustion so thick and so heavy, you couldn’t remember what it’d ever felt like not to be tired. You tried to hold yourself up, but faltered – buckling under your own weight. Carlisle chuckled as he caught you, helping you lay down with a soft squeeze to your shoulder, a feather-light kiss to the top of your head. “Sleep, angel. It’s good for you.” And then, his grin still pressing into your scalp. “And try not to dream about vampires, this time.”

So he did know about Rosalie’s books. Pouting, you shrunk into yourself, letting him drag the comforter over your abruptly immobile body as your eyes eased shut, as he pulled away – a vial of your blood still warm in his hand. It would’ve been impossible to stop yourself from falling asleep, but you managed to stave off unconscious long enough to watch him remove the vial’s carefully applied seal, to unscrew the air-tight cap with the kind of tenderness you’d only seen him use while taking your temperature or petting his fingers through your hair after he thought you were already too far gone to remember. He did a lot of things when he thought you weren’t looking, didn’t he? You’d never really noticed that, before.

Through your eyelashes, you watched him bring the vial to his lips before everything went dark.

[carnadelions]

r/relationship_advice 7h ago

My partner (96M) won't fully commit himself to me (464M).

My partner will disagree with me on this but he and I make the perfect couple. You see, my partner's ex-husband was a mercurial man. Very physical, almost bestial, couldn't hope to spar with my partner on an intellectual level. Theirs was a mismatched and unequal relationship that begot conflict at the same time as it appeared to thrive on it (my partner once referred to me as "boring"; I was stewing on this for several days but managed to recreationally work through my anger and cede that my partner's marriage had done him more damage than I'd imagined). Regardless, over the past several decades, I have been "picking up the pieces", so to speak. I have waited on my partner hand and foot, have cleaned up after him, have indulged his many hobbies and his — ah, several hundred — affairs. However, his sullen mood remains unbroken. In fact he's recently attempted to do irreparable harm to himself, without sparing a thought as to how I would manage in his absence (he is what you would call my Dominant — a role he performs without outward luster or passion). I hope the Reddit community can help shed some light on how I can reinvigorate our relationship. Leaving him is out of the question, as I am nothing without him.

tarantula_in_cup 5h ago there's a lot to unpack here

slowpianist28 5h ago "mismatched and unequal relationship" you're 400 years older than him??????

mdgreg 4h ago i feel like this is leaving out some really vital information. it sounds like your partner is very depressed and needs professional help. is he currently in treatment or seeking it?

anonymousmaitre 3h ago Rest assured he could seek treatment any time he wished to, but would rather glut himself on drugged blood in an effort to dull his pain. I'm reaching the end of my patience. After all, it's been years since his daughter passed.

slowpianist28 3h ago his daughter DIED?????

anonymousmaitre 2h ago Yes, but within the scope of existence as we know it, such pain is to be overcome. For instance, my first memory, I'm being run down by slavers in Delhi [read more] -1.8k ⇓

[hanbinics]

a/n. the female pictured above does not represent !crybaby reader in any way. that is solely up to you. ღ

!crybaby reader hates when !dealer chris isn't giving her enough attention.

“are we goin’ home soon?”

chris should have taken that initial whine as his warning as to the fit you were soon to throw.

you���re currently sat on his knee, doe eyes flitting around the room with a mixture of irritation and boredom in their reflection. you’ve been at this party for about an hour and a half now, which is nothing compared to how long you’re usually at these things, but tonight your patience is wearing thin. you’ve been busy over the last few weeks, swamped with the start of a new semester, and it hasn’t given you much time to spend with chris lately. on top of the fact that he’s been bitching about these new freshman not wanting to buy any drugs under the excuse that they’d like to stay sober during their college years—fuckin’ dumbass kids, chris had said—well, he's not exactly been in the mood to entertain your need for his attention. throw in a couple of failed attempts at phone sex, and you’re completely over the brunette not catching wind of your attitude in the moment.

still, you sit perched on his knee like the prettiest decoration on a shelf, a pout pulling at your mouth while chris busies himself with pulling a couple of prerolls out of his pocket, blue eyes lazily glancing up at the freshman currently standing in front of you.

“look, kid, you either buy ‘em now or not at all—i don’t really give a fuck.” he shrugs his shoulders, his nonchalance even convincing to you, but when the timid-looking boy in front of you doesn’t answer right away, you find yourself heaving a sigh.

“make him go away, he’s not gonna buy nothin’.” your whine vibrates against chris’s skin where you bury your face into his neck, bored of the interaction and desperate for your boyfriend’s attention. you can feel his long fingers wrap around your hip, squeezing the flesh there in a silent warning—cut it out—but you can’t help yourself.

the freshman before you glances nervously from chris to you before his mouth parts. “actually, she’s, um.. she’s right. i don’t think i wanna get into that stuff yet,” he admits with a sheepish expression, one hand reaching up to rub at his nape.

he looks like he might shit his pants by the look chris shoots him, taking that as his sign to walk away before anything else can ensue, finally leaving you alone with your boyfriend—only, he’s not exactly happy.

chris’s fingers tangle themselves into your hair, creating enough of a fistful that he can pull your pretty face from his neck, forcing you to meet his dark eyes and tense jaw. “go get your coat. now,” he tells you, waiting for you to nod as best as you can in his tight grip before you’re finally getting up from his lap, letting out a soft yelp when he delivers a sharp slap to the spot where your ass meets your thigh.

chris doesn’t speak a single word to you on the way back to his apartment. you have half a mind to tell him you’re sorry, that you didn’t mean to run off any clients, but the other part of you—the brattier one—wants to return that same silent treatment. after all, he’s the one that’s been neglecting you.

it’s clear he doesn’t see it that way though, the brunette still physically tense as he leads you up to his apartment and inside, still completely silent. as soon as the door shuts behind you, you whirl around to beg him to say something, but he speaks before you can.

“go to my room,” he instructs, ignoring the way you’re looking up at him from beneath long, thick lashes. “now. you know how i want you.”

you open your mouth to protest, but when chris shoots you a look that leaves no room for it, you furrow your brow and turn on your heel to follow his instructions, pout deepening on your lips. you still listen though, socks shuffling quietly against the wooden floor as you make your way to his bedroom where you immediately climb onto his bed, lifting the fabric of your plaid skirt until it’s bunched up around your hips, leaving your bare ass exposed—chris prefers when you don’t wear panties.

about ten minutes pass before you ever hear another noise in the apartment, there being no indication of your boyfriend even making his way to you. every passing minute causes something tight to twist within your tummy, the only sound in the room being your quiet sniffles, until, finally, you hear the door open behind you.

you so badly want to look over your shoulder, maybe see if the brunette’s mood has changed any, but you don’t. you know it might only make your punishment worse. so instead, you wait with baited breath at the sound of chris undoing his belt and pulling it from the loops of his jeans, fear striking you from the tips of your toes to your increasingly sticky cunt.

“you wanna say somethin’ t’me?” chris asks from behind you, dark eyes drinking in the sight of you on all fours for him, the cute shape of your ass on display and your slick causing your pussy to glisten for him; he’s spoiled, really.

when you take a second to answer, a soft sniffle greeting chris’s ears, he raises an eyebrow at the little no you offer before he nods his head once and then lets the leather of his belt crack against the bare skin of your ass.

you flinch in surprise, sucking in a sharp breath, but you don’t make any noise otherwise. maybe that’s your first mistake, as it only leads to two more strikes of chris’s belt against your reddening skin, those ones finally evoking a yelp from your parted lips and a choked sob following it despite your inner thighs getting slick with your arousal as a result.

chris pauses then, raising an eyebrow. “talk to me, petal,” he tells you, waiting for your sniffling to calm down before you’re finally turning to look at him over your shoulder, cheeks wet with pretty tears.

“’m sorry,” you finally sob, and while the apology has relief flooding through him, his chest tightens at the sight of your pathetic state.

his face remains mostly impassive as he finally lays his belt onto the bed, that being your indicator that your punishment is over with. almost immediately, you shuffle onto your knees, tears still rolling down your cheeks as you take your spot on his lap, wincing softly at the contact of your sensitive skin against his jeans.

chris wraps an arm around your waist, one hand coming up to press his thumb into your cheek so that he can brush away a few tears making a path down your face. “you gonna tell me what was goin’ on back there tonight? because that wasn’t my girl out there,” he insists quietly, watching the way you have to fight from pouting at his accusation despite the truth to it.

he has to bite back a smile at the sight, grateful for the way you bury your face into his neck, too busy seeking comfort from him to notice his amusement.

“jus’ wanted you to pay attention t’me tonight,” you finally whine quietly into his neck, breath soft against his skin as he holds you close, soothing the soft hiccups leaving your mouth. “felt like you didn’t want me around lately..”

at that, chris furrows his eyebrows, leaning back slightly so that he can better see your face. he’s about to insist that isn’t true, ask where you got that idea from, but upon seeing the way you blink up at him and sniffle softly, he chooses not to. whatever your reason for feeling this way doesn’t matter; he never wants to make you feel that way.

“’m sorry, petal,” chris coos softly, his lips brushing against your hairline as he holds you closer to his chest. “my pretty girl.. never wanna make you feel like that.”

when you finally pull your face from his neck, he smiles softly. “i love havin’ you around, kid. yeah?” he insists, waiting for you to nod your head in agreement before he’s leaning down to press a wet kiss to your soft lips.

“’m sorry, baby. never gonna make my girl feel like that again.”

©hanbinics

ღ divider by @/kyejiz ღ

[itsharleystuff]

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ 𝐌Í𝐀 ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

Gif not mine!

— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Javier Peña x afab!fem reader (implied hispanic/latina)

— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.3k

— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After a major fight between the two of you, a month goes by in which you give each other the silent treatment, figuring out if you should start seeing different people. However, Javier has a problem: he can’t get his dick hard for anyone that isn’t you. So, when he sees how easily you can move on from him, he gets awfully jealous.

— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), sex, possessive/jealous behavior, unprotected sex, p in v, cuffs, slight dirty talk, semi-public sex, use of ‘slut’, pet names (sweetheart, corazón, cariño, hermosa, etc.), praise kink, come eating, oral sex (f! & m! receiving), mentions of drugs, smoking, a bit of angst, very little plot (mostly filth), weirdly structured plot. I think that’s it.

— a/n: there’s some phrases and words in Spanish, some are translated and some aren’t. Let me know if translations are needed :)

No use of y/n.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Javier Peña has never been a jealous man.

It's simply never been in his nature, not even when he was a child playing around with toys that he loved to share. And nowadays? Well, he had other stuff in mind that didn't leave any room for those pedestrian feelings.

As of now, he -supposedly- didn't have anything to be worried about. Specially not women.

Everyone knew he fucked hookers so good that they'd spill all their secrets in his ear, and that he was attractive enough to leave a bar with company just after a couple of minutes from arriving there. But to anyone observant, it was obvious how bad he had it for you.

Still, that didn't stop him from being an asshole.

You remember the last time you two spoke and how it turned out to be a fucking disaster: basically, he didn't like the idea of exclusivity because it involved feelings that he wasn't ready to admit, so you had called him a slut (along with many other insults) and he'd said that you were childish and sensitive. So naturally, everything went downhill after that fight.

Currently, things were pretty tense with Javier, even at work. But things just got worse when the Colombian police sent you onto an undercover mission, nothing really extravagant but still quite dangerous. And apparently, the DEA knew nothing about it.

The task was rather simple: you'd go to one of Medellin's busiest nightclubs and find out if there was a cocaine distribution line working there. The problem was what the agent had overheard from Carrillo. Not only did he knew now that you were at the place, but he also had word that one of the cartel's most wanted sicarios was about to be there too. And knowing the Coronel as well as he did, you were right in the middle of a crossfire. He arrived at the club earlier than any of them, hoping to find you quickly and draw you out before the asset came in.

But, oh hell.

What he saw the minute he stepped in almost made him lose his shit.

⩇⩇:⩇⩇

You had no business being in there this late. You'd already passed down all the information needed to your boss and now you were just waiting for the cartel's member to arrive so you could call Carrillo and let him finish the job.

But in the meantime, you decided to at least try and have some fun. After everything that went on with Peña, you felt like you deserved a distraction.

The music was loud, reggaetón reverberating in your body as you danced, eyes wide awake in case the target decided to show up. The stranger you were dancing with had his hands all over your body, holding you close to him while you moved in synch. He was handsome in a boyish way, and a bit clumsy, but good enough to take your mind off from the irritating DEA agent. At least for now.

To be honest, you didn't lack any attention at the moment. Both men and women would come up to you, hoping to get a piece of what you had to offer. It came without saying that everything about you tonight resulted appealing to the kind of people that frequented the place, being an undercover assignment you did your best to blend in. And it seemed to work out wonderfully. The flashy makeup and short dress that only accentuated your figure made you stand out amongst the rest; nevertheless, what really attracted everyone's gaze wasn't any of that, but the confidence with which you'd walk around the place like you owned it.

"¿Qué tal si nos vamos pa' un lugar más oscurito, mamacita?" (How about we go to a more private place?) The guy, whose name you didn't even know, proposed. And though the idea sounded nice, your job wasn't quite finished.

"Not yet, papi. Dame un par de canciones más." (Let's dance a bit more). He hummed in response, his hands traveling from your lower back to grab your ass firmly.

"Usted manda." (You call the shots). The answer made you smile cheekily as you lean in to him, hoping to connect his lips with yours.

However, you definitely didn't expect to be abruptly pulled back with force instead, ripping you apart from the man's hold.

"What the hell..." you start to complain and twist in the strangers grasp, who started to drag you out the dance floor and keeping your wrists behind your back.

"Hombre, ¿pero qué diablo' le pasa?" (What's wrong with you, man?). Asked your poor companion, glancing over at the guy that took you away from him.

But you knew exactly who he was even before he spoke. You'd recognize that musky cologne anywhere, mixed with the scent of cigarette smoke. Damn, even your body recognized him so well that the way his fingertips dig on your skin flooded your mind with memories from the past.

"Peña." You mutter through gritted teeth, not bothering to turn your head towards him.

"It's agent Peña to you, sweetheart." He snarls, completely blowing off anyone that would try to get in his way to lug you outside.

A new, fueled up rage crept up your spine while he harshly pulls you to te entrance, right were you see the colonel's target going in.

"Let go of me, mierda!" You struggle against him, not wanting to actually put on a fight but just make him reason. "I have a fucking job to do, so let go of me or..."

"Or what?" Javier spins you around carelessly, leaving your face so close to his that your breaths merged with each other's, chest pressed against your own as he keeps you still, his hands gripping you so hard that it would certainly leave bruises.

"I need to call Carrillo. I'm working, even if you don't believe it." You tell him, letting your racing heartbeat start to settle.

The man's eyes were dark, covered by a shadow of anger that matched his stern expression. He was always handsome, but whenever he'd get mad, Javi was hot. Although it was unusual for you to see him like this, him being always attentive and careful, though still very passionate. He would never explode, not even when the stress and tension became too much to handle. But then, you realize...

"No way..." you scoff, keeping direct eye contact. "You're jealous, aren't you?"

His reaction is immediate, turning your body again and flushing your face against the trunk of his jeep Cherokee, bending you over the car. You gasp audibly, feeling the cold metal under your cheek and his body towering upon you while he holds you down by the back of your neck. Javier's lips brush the top of your ear when he leans down to you.

"The fuck do I need to be jealous about, cariño?" He whispers lowly, his hot breath giving you goosebumps and making your knees tremble. "Eres mía, you've always been."

Ah, fuck.

Despite all the shit that you went through with him, the effect he had on you remained the same. No matter what, the agent was aware of it, conscious of how you'd always melt under his touch, he just knew all your sweet spots by core memory and what'll have you squirming underneath him. Yeah, even if your mind tried it's best to erase Peña, your body would always betray you.

"You lost your chance." You mutter in a bittersweet tone. "Now get the hell off me so I can finish my task."

He doesn't instantly let go, but eventually loosens the grip on your nape. Though right when you thought he'd actually let you free, there's a cold metallic sensation brushing on your wrist and you suddenly can't move your arms from your back. The motherfucker had just cuffed you.

"Malparido, hijo de..." You ramble, straightening your back to glance at him in exasperation.

"Don't move." He growls, opening the driver's door and taking his radio out. The agent starts to talk through it, but you're way too outraged as to pay any attention, your vision going red when you catch your name, the words 'Carrillo', 'sicario' and the place were you're at, figuring out that he's doing the part of the job that corresponded to you.

"You're sick, Peña." There's no reply to the snarky comment as he simply shoves you in the back of his truck, rather carefully, considering the situation.

You watch intently while he gets back on his seat, analyzing every detail about him. It wasn't anything special, you had seen him quite often at work after your fight, and nonetheless, now... Something seemed off.

Javier was wearing a red button shirt under his black leather jacket, from which he drew out a pack of cigs and a lighter. He appeared the same, however, you could sense the tension on his shoulders and back, the kind you'd help him deal with before, and it almost felt like he was holding back from doing something. Heck, you hated it. You completely despised arguing with him, being apart from the man almost made you physically unwell.

But that was the root of this whole problem. You were able to admit it; how much you liked him and didn't want anyone else. Him on the other hand, wasn't ready for all that. Although, despite him implying that he couldn't fully commit or correspond to your feelings... Right now, his actions were very contradicting.

Because Javier Peña never got jealous.

And yet, there he was.

Perhaps, if you spurred him on just enough and cornered him in a trap... Perhaps then, he'd be able to admit it. 

"So what now, agent?" You wonder, laying your back flat on the leather sit, feeling the coldness of the material on your exposed skin and trying to find a comfortable position. "You mind explaining yourself?"

He looks at you through the rear-view mirror, brows furrowed and jaw clenched. A challenging fire shines in your eyes when you lock glances with him. But he doesn't say anything, simply starting the car and getting the windows down before lighting up a cigarette.

"What about you, sweetheart?" He asks, the fag hanging from between his lips as he starts driving away from the club. "Care for elaborating on your actions?"

You snort, gaze diverting towards the window. "I was just killing time."

The streets of Medellin were loud and busy, specially on the weekends. But at the moment, the paths were dark and quiet, as if everyone knew that there was a storm coming and they had to stay out of the hood.

"So that's your idea of 'killing time'?" He comes again, tapping the cigar out his window to leave the ashes behind. "Letting random men grope you in those wrenched bars?" You grin, still defying him with your attitude. "And yet, I'm the slut..."

"You must certainly are, Peña." You reply condescendingly, watching the road. "When I was with you, that was it. No one else even crossed my mind. But then, you? How many other women did you have besides me?"

He grunts, taking a long drag without looking back in your direction. You recognize certain spots and locals, but none of them were anywhere close to your apartment. Instead of asking were he was taking you to, the idea you previously had lingers on your mind.

Red light.

"You know, ever since we... Well, ghosted each other. I've actually had tons of fun." His eyes darkened, but no matter all the warning signs he was sending with his body, you just couldn't hold back anymore, starting to play a game that might get out of control. "Actually, you know that guy working with the CIA? Balcázar?"

Javier looked so gorgeous while driving. His big hands over the lever and muscles flexing whenever he'd make sudden moves. Even now, tense as an arrow an white-knuckling the wheel at your words, he was the hottest man you'd seen.

"Shit, he’s good..." you purr, slightly arching your back so he'll get a better view of your breasts, barely contained in that tiny dress you were wearing. "I really miss him. Hated it when he went back to New York."

His stormy glare was on you, watching closely every single move you made. Your legs were briefly parted, just enough for him to peek a sight of your laced underwear. The agent's breathing became ragged and he had to try his best to stay concentrated.

"Careful, cariño." You hear him rasp out with a hint of danger. "You really don't want to go there."

Green light.

He puts the cigarette out and throws the tail away carelessly.

"Ay, Peña." Your voice goes an octave lower, licking your lips. "Don't act like you haven't been to every brothel in the city trying to fill in my spot."

The man huffs a laugh, shaking his head in disapproval. "I know what you're doing." You look at him through your lashes, faking innocence and confusion. "But if you really want me to say it, there hasn't been anyone else."

"Yeah, right..." That mocking tone was really getting on his nerves.

"Not even when we were together." Javi sulks out.

"Then why was it so difficult for you to be serious with me?" You question grimly. "Do you not like me?"

His eyes bore back into yours somberly, as if you'd just said the stupidest thing in the world despite the graveness in your voice and expression, lazily scanning you head to toe.

"Like you?" It sounded like he was struggling not to come off sardonic, cocking an eyebrow at you. "I can't believe you just asked me that."

You lean in towards him when he takes an unexpected turn, inhaling his particular scent mixed with the leather and smoke. Suddenly, he parks the car someplace dark and empty that resembled an abandoned gas station. Kind of creepy, but you recognized the area now. It was a neighborhood located a couple of blocks away from his apartment.

"Why?" You coo, taunting, patiently testing how much he'd spill. But Javier won't meet your glance, focused on the nothingness ahead of him.

"Because I can't even get my dick hard for any other women, for fucks sake!" He howls, rubbing his face with his palm, clearly pissed.

At first, you thought he must've been joking. But the way he said it came out so frustrated that it made it hard to believe he was lying. His bold statement gave you a rush of power, knowing that you had him in mind and body, the man that made every woman he acquainted feel like a schoolgirl crushing on a senior. You understood why he was so mad right now; it wasn't only cause he was jealous, but because he hated seeing that you could easily move on to the next man while he remained stuck.

Though it was a lie. You only responded to him and you wanted to prove him that. But Javier had to acknowledge the mistake he made.

"Perhaps you're just old." You teased, "Have you tried pills for that?"

His reaction was so unexpected that you had barely any time to process the circumstances. He got out the car and opened the passenger's seat, tugging at your arm to get you out the jeep apprehensively.

"Take a guess, sweetheart." He grits next to your ear, his chest pressed to your back.

"Fucking hell..." you mewl at the feeling of Javier's hard boner firm against your ass. His hands hold your waist for a second before manhandling you to the edge of the back passenger's seat, hunching down in front of you with both hands gently gripping the exposed flesh of your thighs and looking up at you with fiery eyes.

"If you want me to say it, fine." He bites, giving up. "I made a mistake. It was stupid." Then his tone denotes the way he's struggling to contain anger. "I can't bear it. Seeing you with other men... It drives me insane. I can't even think straight- shit, I almost blew a whole ass operation tonight just because I saw you dancing with that guy." You gulp, remembering how furious he was just a few moments ago. "But let's not fool ourselves, cariño. We both know you haven't slept with anyone else either."

How he figured that out was a mystery to you. Maybe he truly was a very good agent.

There isn't a retort in your behalf. What could you possibly say anyway? He had you figured out already, he always did.

Back in the day, when you first started working with him, Javier acted like a complete shithead. Him an Murphy would give you a hard time with the DEA, always getting in trouble, messing up your schedules and bribing confidential information out of you. That's how you grew closer to him. Peña used to invite you for dinner or beers as an apology, granted that he always looked forward to take you back to his apartment, of course. Except you had heard the rumors regarding his reputation, and that was a well in which you weren't particularly eager to fall in, specially since he was a coworker.

Yet, it was all in vain. How could you ever say no to him if he'd look at you with those sparkly, deep brown eyes that resembled a lost puppy? You fell for Javi's smug smirk, the groovy hair, plus that confident and bite-back attitude of his, knowing how it would eventually end. Even so, no one could really blame you. He acted different around you, people were able to tell, brighter, more open and honest.

"See, I'm sorry about what I said..." you start, but he cuts you off.

"Don't be. I deserved that shit." The man stands up, taking a bunch of keys from the pocket of his jeans and going to take off the cuffs. "You should feel sorry for all those poor guys you toyed with while thinking about me the whole time."

You stretch your arms and massage your wrists, unwilling to meet his intense gaze, conscious that you'd fall for his charm immediately. He worked smarter, grabbing your chin to raise your face towards him.

"Did you enjoy it?" He hissed, fingertips digging on your jaw with moderate force. "Having other men grab your ass while everyone watches? Teasing the hell out of me in the office with those obscenely tight skirts and talking to Murphy as if I wasn't right beside him?" Your tongue darts out to lick your lower lip, not breaking eye contact. "Answer me, corazón."

"Yes," you respond cockily, "I enjoyed it." His face swiftly sobered, a muscle feathering in his jaw. "But I didn't think it had any effect on you, so it felt like a waste of time and effort."

Javier laughs huskily, bending forward. You close your eyes, thinking he's going in for a kiss, but instead his lips go to rest on your jawline, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your neck and all the way down to the valley of your breasts. As of now, you're a panting mess, already turned on by his adamant behavior. The fact that you were finally getting to feel him like this after a month or so of completely ignoring each other... It felt divine.

Your tug at his shoulder as he keeps nibbling the sensitive skin. The agent knew your body better than anyone else ever could, he'd memorized all the spots that would have you moaning and squirming underneath him, which was the case just now.

"Javi..." you sigh, running your hand through his hair.

"You're such a fucking brat." He reflects, kneeling between your parted legs. "A month ago I was merely a ghost to you, a few minutes prior I was simply 'Peña'. But when my lips are on you I'm suddenly 'Javi'?" He boasts with a devilish grin. "How convenient..."

"Mmm..." he laughs gruffly at your loss of words, his fingers hooking your underwear beneath the dress and slowly pulling it down.

At this point you're so wet it's embarrassing. It was probably due to the lack of sex you've had recently, or perhaps you were really growing fond of this new phase of his and the idea of Javier being possessive over you.

"Don't you dare look away." He warns roughly, peeling the fabric off you with a tad of your help. "Keep your eyes on me. I'll only tell you this once."

You nod eagerly. "Javi, are we- are we going to do it here?" It wouldn't be a new thing, you've done similar stuff in the past, though never in such an open space, despite appearing deserted. "Your place is barely a few blocks away..." His lips graze the soft skin of your upper leg, the feeling of his mustache raising goosebumps on your body.

"Can't wait." He stated, voice tinted with lust whilst his palm caresses your calf. "Need you now."

Somehow that made the pit of your stomach feel warmer. The rush of excitement coming from that desire he had for you had gave a thrill of control, completely ignoring how he was the one in charge of this situation. Javier carefully slips your dress upwards, taking in every single reaction you had to his touch and cursing at the sight of your throbbing pussy. The heat of his breath against your exposed core only increased your arousal, seemingly encouraging him.

"Shit, this cunt really did miss me, huh?" You nod again, basking in the contact of his nose brushing your clit, sending shivers down your spine.

In spite of your low whimpers of need, he deliberately denied you of his touch were you most needed him, simply roaming his lips and fingers over your inner thighs and pubic bone. Desperate, you scratch his scalp softly, pulling a groan from him.

"Javi, please..." he was definitely going to make you beg for it, regardless of how much he wanted it too. 

"Did you let anyone else do this to you?"

"No." You breathe out.

"Good." His thumb suddenly falls on your clit, rubbing slow circles. You squeal from the spontaneousness of the action, squeezing your eyes shut for a second. "This is mine." Then he slides down his finger to slightly part your swollen lips, coating it with your slick. "All mine."

"Sí, Javi."

"That's right, corazón." He murmurs, slipping two digits into you. "I'm going to fuck you so good that you won't ever think about anyone else." He sets a pace pretty quickly, pumping his fingers in and out, curling them to hit all the right spots. "I'm the only man for you. Understand that?"

"Yes, shit-" you choke down a moan when he mildly pinches your nub. "You are."

He makes a satisfied noise before diving in your pussy, starting to lick and kiss your clit without pulling out his fingers, maintaining a relentless pace and rejoicing himself in the sounds he'd pull from you.

"Fuck, that's good..." you manage to say, knowing how he likes the praise, your hand messing up his hair.

Javier pulls away for a second, grabbing your thighs to part them further and place your legs over his shoulders eagerly, hungrily looking up at you. You arch your back, ever so responsive to him while struggling to maintain a hold of yourself.

"So pretty." He whispers, admiring how your chest goes up and down from your rag breathing, your face contorted by pleasure as his fingers disappear in your cunt, the squelching sounds of your pussy and the moans spilling from your lips making him painfully hard. "Toda mía."

Your legs were already shaking, your body being so sensitive and needy. Specially for him. Always for him. But it wasn't enough and you both knew that. Though before you can beg him for more, his mouth takes place were his digits used to be, eating you out as if you were his favorite meal, lapping you up kind of selfishly, almost like he did it for his own pleasure.

"Javi, that's-" you can't even form coherent sentences without being interrupted by your cries of pleasure. "Too fucking good."

His tongue is hot and soft between your folds, licking up your slit as he rubs tight circles on your clit, fucking you greedily and moaning graciously against your slickness. Also, the image of him between your legs was always a sight to see, adding to the pool of arousal. You start seeing white spots and the knot in your lower stomach starts to loosen as the orgasm approaches, gripping the leather seat as if your life depended on it. It's a good thing that he's holding you, cause in a matter of seconds your whole body starts to tremble and his name leaves your lips repeatedly.

"I can't- shit!" You pull his hair involuntarily and he groans in response, the sound vibrating through your core and pushing you to the edge. "I'm gonna..."

You can't even finish speaking before you're coming undone in his mouth, feeling the hot waves of satisfaction wash over you. He doesn't pull away until you're practically whining from the overstimulation, trying to regain composure as he licks you clean. When he does, his eyes peer at you, intoxicated with desire as he starts to stand on his feet, towering over you.

"I missed that sweet taste of yours." He licks his glistening lips and you wish he'd finally kiss you. "Can't get enough of it."

Your hands reach his belt, trying to unbuckle it, but he takes your wrists to stop you.

"What's wrong?" You question, genuinely confused.

"I'm taking you to my apartment. I'm doing this properly." He retorts. However, you're too turned on now to care about the place.

"Please Javi, let me do something for you." One thing that made him go stupidly insane for you was the way you were never coy when asking for his cock, looking up at him with pleading eyes. As if having him on your throat gratified you. "I need you."

He almost caved in. Almost.

"Stop that or I'll cuff you again." He grumbles, only making you smile.

"Do it. I don't need hands, I can always take you in my mou-" Javier flips your body abruptly, pressing your face against the seat, and you can hear the familiar sound of metal clipping in.

"Such a greedy slut." He fixes your dress, not without subtly smacking your ass beforehand.

"Mm, can I at least get my panties back?" You ask in defeat, turning to face him, but he was already shutting the door.

"No." He quickly starts the car as you settle on the back, catching a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. Your cheeks were flushed and lips plump from biting them, eyes still sparkling from the high post-orgasm.

"Do you like me like this?" You wonder as he begins driving. "All fucked out, cuffed and ready for you to take?"

Peña doesn't answer immediately, not daring to look back at you but desperately wanting to do it.

"I do." He answers, eyes on the road. "I like you naked. And dressed too, specially with those pretty skirts. I like it when you tell me how your day was, or when you're reading quietly." His words make your heart flutter, blushing harder. "I like listening to your voice, and the way your gaze always seems interested whenever I talk about me. Shit, I even like you when you're ignoring me." You can almost hear his smile, if that made any sense. "I like you all the damn time, hermosa."

Honestly, you weren't expecting such a straightforward answer, finding yourself at loss of words. Nonetheless, you didn't need to say anything, cause sooner than expected you were being taken out of the truck, flashes of the building he resided in passed right in front of your eyes while he dragged you through the dark, silent halls.

"Javi..." despite having limited mobility, you lean towards him, whispering in his ear. "Please kiss me."

He laughs dryly at your plea and struggles to open the door. "You want that, huh? ¿Quieres que te bese?" Then he takes your arm to drag you in, closing the door behind him.

"Yes, mi amor. I missed you so fucking much." You stay close to him, your face nuzzled on the crook of his neck. His hand brushes the hair out of your face and he presses his lips to your temple.

"Hm, is that right?" He hums and you can feel it against your nose. "Didn't seem so."

You back off swiftly, keeping your eyes locked with his. "I'm sorry, Javier. I really am."

Something shifts in his gaze, a possessive, deep emotion takes over him and he decides to take you up on your previous proposition.

"Prove it." He commands, voice hoarse. "Show me how much you missed me." The idea of getting what you wanted pursed your lips in a mischievous smirk. "I'll kiss you afterwards if I'm convinced."

Instead of responding, you start peppering kisses all over his jaw and neck, going as far along his chest as the buttons of his shirt would allow you. He lazily unbuckles his belt and pants while you lower yourself to your knees in front of him, but doesn't bother to go any further. It was going to be difficult, though nothing you haven't done before, nearly forgetting the cuffs as you craved his taste.

You rub the side of your face on his stiff erection, feeling how hard and hot he was under the tight fabric of his jeans and a low groan scratches his throat. You mouth at it before taking the zip between your teeth and sliding it down, eyes peering up at him at the same time. Javier observes every move attentively, his cock twitching at the sight of your lust-drunken gaze, breath starting to become unsteady when you kiss and lick the head of his dick over the thin fabric of his boxers. You taste the precum throughout it, salty and good, before pulling down his underwear by lightly biting the elastic.

Your mouth waters at the view, jaw going slack even before taking him in your mouth. His girth slaps against his clothed belly, tip red and leaking, just as big as you remember. Shit, you really had missed him. Javier's hand tangles in your hair, running his fingers in between the locks lovingly. He gasps when you press your lips to the slit, kitten licking the top and starting to spread wet kisses all over his length, running your tongue along the shaft, his musky scent getting to your head quite fast. He loved how every time you were on your knees for him it felt like you adored him, as much as Javier did you.

And it was true. Knowing how good you made him feel satisfied your senses, every expression and single noise he'd make could turn you on and push you to edge so easily. The man was simply delightful.

“Fuck, sweetheart…” he sighs, caressing your cheekbone with his thumb when you finally suck him in. “That’s it, wrap those gorgeous lips around my cock. So pretty…”

He lets out a gruffly moan as you take him further, watching as he screws his eyes shut and throws his head back, the sound so divine that it immediately makes your pussy clench around nothing. Javier is thick. And it’s always so hard to get him all in your mouth, but this time you make a double effort. You run your tongue against the veins on the underside of his dick, enjoying the weight of it in you, the taste and the admirable sight of him coming undone while he tries his best not to start fucking your face without warning, laying his palms flat on the wall behind you.

“Shit- that’s…” he grumbles, head spinning from pleasure, unable to make up any thought or manifest anything into words. You start bobbing your head up and down his length, hollowing your cheeks to provide more warmth.

You’re dripping, feeling the slick run down your thighs and the ache becoming unbearable. You squeeze your legs together in order to release some of that need, letting out a whine that vibrates through him and makes his hips jolt into your mouth.

“Fucking hell…” Javier’s hand snakes to the back of your neck, massaging the soft skin. “Does it turn you on to get me off like this, hermosa?”

You hum in response and the feeling sends him to oblivion, letting out a coarse moan that shocks another wave of hotness between your legs.

“What a nasty girl you are.” He mumbles breathily, “My girl.” He’s practically shaking at this point, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat and your nose pressed against his pubic bone.

Air wasn’t a necessity at the moment, your ears ringing and the corners of your eyes watering. He warned you he was close but you didn’t back out, letting him hold you for support. He gasps out a raspy ‘fuck’ when he releases, hips stuttering and back arching slightly as his cum hits your tongue. You pull apart just enough to lap at the tip while he rides it out, feeling him throb in your mouth while you savor him until he’s completely spent, soft moans barely audible.

You wait until he opens his eyes again, brown gaze meeting yours between shaky breaths. “Will you uncuff me now, agent?”

He huffs a laugh, tugging himself back in his jeans before helping you get up and taking the metal cuffs off. For a second, none of you say a thing, simply staring back at each other with a swirl of emotions between you. But then he says your name, merely a whisper that makes you crumble.

“Don’t do that, Peña.” You scold, turning your back to him and walking towards the couch, taking a seat and listening to the leather crack under your weight.

“What do you mean?” He turns to you, hands on his hips, pants unbuttoned and hair messy.

“When you say my name like you need me and give me those puppy-dog eyes, I actually believe that you want me for anything other than sex.” He seems disappointed, mostly on himself. “So can we just fuck and get this over with?”

“Is that what you think I…?” Javier shakes his head and follows your direction, but only observes from above. “It’s not like that.”

You take off the heels, your feet starting to hurt. “Then how is it?”

His hand goes to your chin, urging you to look up at him. “I’m not good with this… I screwed up back in Texas and I did it again with you.” You gulp, your hands tightly gripping your knees. “I don’t know how to handle this sort of things, and it’s been a while since I felt like this for anyone…”

He takes the jacket off and sits on the edge of his coffee table in front of the sofa, cupping your face in his hands.

“All I know is that every time we’re together, nothing else matters. Things feel right. But when you’re not with me… Shit. Life becomes insufrible. I can’t sleep, can’t think, fuck, I can’t even have sex!” He looks genuinely irritated. “Everything’s about you when you’re away. And I can’t tolerate to see you with anyone else. It’s like someone just took a shot at me.”

You inhale sharply, taking his hand in yours without breaking eye contact. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve came back to you.”

“Precisely. I tried not to be selfish and let you go, but I can’t. It hurts too much.” He pouts, as if the mere thought made him sick. “And you deserve better.”

Inevitably, you roll your eyes. “Don’t bullshit me, Peña.” He furrows his brows at your reply, his palm falling from your cheek to his lap. “That’s crap! You think you know what’s best for me?”

“Well shit, I’m sorry for trying to look out for you.” Javier snarls back.

“I don’t need you to do that, you idiot.” You grab his jaw, taking him by surprise. “I know what I want and I was straightforward about it,” His heart starts thumping against his ribs. “So, if you want me, take me. Cause if you don’t… Someone else might.”

Your statement stirs his pot and his expression shifts. “Fuck no. You’re mine and I’m yours. That’s how this is going to work.”

“Yeah?” He lets out a throaty growl and leans down towards you.

“Yeah.” His mustache tickles your upper lip when he crashes his lips to yours and you whine into his mouth.

It was desperate and demanding, ripping all the emotions from you. Javier tasted like cigarettes, a hint of mint and of you. And you tasted like tequila, honey and of him. His cologne was a little faded, but you could still smell it.

“Say you’re mine, corazón.” He mumbles when he pulls back for air, forehead pressed to yours. “I don’t care if you’re lying, I need to hear it.”

You take him by the collar of his shirt so that he’s sitting down next to you, snaking your hand to press the palm against his bare chest.

“Soy tuya, Javi.” You tell him, laying a small kiss to his lips. “I mean it.”

He smiles cheekily as he pulls you on top of him, spreading your knees to each side of his thighs, your dress slipping upwards. Javier tugs a strand of hair behind your ear and his fingers roam your face as if he wanted to memorize every edge of it by tact alone. His thumb sweeps over your bottom lip carefully, parting your lips briefly before going to kiss you again. This time he does it slowly, taking his time with your lips prior to sliding his tongue past your teeth and relishing on your taste, almost like he wanted to lose himself in you.

To him, the world meant nothing if you weren’t by his side. And now that you were here, he intended to make the most of it.

His hands are everywhere: your waist, hips, lower back and butt, grabbing every bit of your flesh that he could, keeping you close. So close that it almost seemed like he wished to merge into you. You made out for what it appeared to be hours, until the kisses got sloppier but never less passionate, and you started grinding against him. You hold his shoulders for support, creating that delicious friction between your naked cunt and his stiff boner tucked in his pants. He jolts his hips up, making you release a whimper in his mouth.

He backed off, his lips now scrape your jawline, neck and collarbones. You arch your back when his hand slithers to pull down the zipper of your dress, granting him a better view of your tits close to his face.

“My room?” He asks, biting your earlobe mildly.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Javi carries you to the bedroom with your legs wrapped around his waist, still finding a way to keep his lips on you in the meantime. Clothes disappear in the blink of an eye and you sit at the end of the sheets to help him take off his pants, kissing his abdomen, your dress now discarded somewhere on the floor.

“Eres preciosa.” The way he says it makes you blush, skin burning under his chocolate gaze. “I’m all yours, mi amor.”

You bring his face close to yours, infatuated with his beauty. “All mine…”

“Yes, corazón.”

You lay down on the mattress, Javier starting to play with your hard nipples, nibbling at them, sucking and kissing with his attention focused on all your reactions. You’re so aroused that you’re quite literally dripping onto his sheets, legs trembling from every light stimulation and skin scorching from desire, already spurred on by the make out and giving him head.

“Please, Javi… I- need you inside.”

He wastes no time to compel, maneuvering a hand to your lower back and aligning himself to your entrance, keeping your legs spread. You feel him inside, splitting you open with no previous warning and the tight grip of your cunt feels like homecoming to him. You hold your breath until he bottoms out, enjoying the sweet stretch he provided. Then your whole body quivers, a sheen layer of sweat covering both his golden skin and yours, a couple of curly locks sticking to his temples from it.

You watch him from below through hooded eyes, every inch of him inside you making you feel so full and complete, the outline of his fingers dig in your waist to keep you angled. You bear down on his cock, enveloping him in the warm, welcoming grasp of your body. He holds your hand above your head and leans down to kiss you again, drowning his own moans in your mouth as he draws out slowly to set a pace with his hips, the wet sounds of you pussy and skin clapping against skin sending a thrill of excitement down his spine.

You get it then, as he pours out all sentiment into you, overcome by passion. He is yours. Even though he just said it, only now does it become evident to you. This is Javier’s way of proving it.

He grabs one of your thighs and lifts your knee to the crook of his elbow, the new angle spreading you further open and allowing him to hit deeper. The impact of his tip hitting every right spot relentlessly forces you to break apart from his lips, your head thrown back into his pillows while practically screaming for more, his face nuzzled in your chest as he melts into you.

“Shit baby, I won’t last.” He warns, sinking his teeth to leave a mark between your breasts. You can feel it too, hot shots of ecstasy creeping up the pit of your stomach every time his cock jumps inside you.

You tug at his hair, a strangled moan escaping his lips. “Do it in me- Please, fill me up.”

Your request sends him right to the edge, his thrusts becoming careless as he starts grinding into you, Javi’s fingers quickly finding your swollen clit. The sole touch made you writhe and reach your high in absolute bliss, clenching your walls around him and crying out from raw pleasure. He fucks you through it, overwhelmed by the sensation. You feel dizzy, barely conscious when he finds his own release, your name spilling from his lips like it was the only word he knew, coming in warm spurts inside you. His spend is dripping from your pussy and thighs when he pulls out and sits up to admire the absolute mess he just made of you.

“Well…” he says, guiding his finger to push his seed back into you, making you whine from the overstimulation. “Hope that made it clear.”

You smile, every muscle in your body weeping from exhaustion. “Yeah… I’ll have to make you jealous more often.”

He groans in annoyance and you pull him back on top of you, spreading tender kisses all over his face, laughing in the meantime.

“Not funny.” He grumbles, despite the grin forming on his lips. Javier rolls to your side, coming to lay down next to you and immediately holding you against his sturdy chest, wrapping his arms around your waist to spoon you. “Stay with me.”

His plead is barely a murmur that filters through your ears and you’re too tired to figure out what those words actually mean. You simply let your eyelids drop and retort with a hardly audible ‘always’.

[thebibliosphere]

If you feel like talking about it — what’s the *aftermath* of anaphylaxis like? I know that an epipen is just step one, and further treatment and observation follows at a hospital, but I’m curious about what the subjective experience is like in the longer term; whether one can bounce back fairly well or whether there’s lingering unpleasantness.

So with the caveat that everyone experiences things differently (and putting this under a cut because I don't want to trigger anyone):

After epi is administered, you're usually put on a cocktail of drugs ranging from several different IV antihistamines (typically a mix of h1 and h2 histamine blockers and a giant whack of benadryl), anti-nausea meds, a beta-agonist to assist with breathing, and a shit-whack of steroids.

Once you've been stable for a few hours and discharged, you'll be told to watch for symptoms for up to 72 hours, which is the period in which a biphasic reaction can happen. (For me, it's always within 20 minutes to 8 hours after rescue medication is administered if I'm going to slip back into an allergic response, but everyone is different.)

Depending on your symptoms, you'll sometimes be told to take an antihistamine for up to 72 hours (if you're not already taking one daily), but the one thing they always send you home with is a steroid like prednisone. I usually need a 5-7 day dose because I need to taper off it or my adrenals crash, but some people get a 3-day dose and come off it with no problems.

Body-wise, it's a draining experience, and the medications often leave you both tired and wired. It's an odd sensation.

Mentally and emotionally, it takes me a lot longer to recover because I've just been smacked with a proverbial mallet of stress hormones and adrenaline, and that can often lead to depressive moods and even rage for some people. The prednisone also heightens emotions, so it's not unusual to be having some of the wildest mood swings of your life while also processing the stress of what just happened.

It takes me a while to bounce back, typically about a week on full rest, but I know some people who claim to feel fine in a couple of days. Couldn't be me, haha. My body goes into hibernation mode for quite a while, and I'll be lying in bed exhausted and jittering like I've had ten espressos, but I don't know how much of that is general anaphylaxis or how much of that is specific to my mast cell disorder.

So, for me, it's a desperate need to sleep, jitteriness, depression, and rapid mood swings from the prednisone followed by a general feeling of blegh. It also takes me about 72 hours to be able to eat solid foods again because of the effect anaphylaxis has on the digestive tract (the esophagus is lined with histamine receptors; that's why some heartburn meds are actually antihistamines.), but I suspect that's my MCAS.

It's basically just a bit shit, lol.

[arrenlebanen777]

ASTRO OBSERVATIONS 1111

SYNASTRY ASPECTS

☉Sun conjunct Moon: This aspect is very beautiful, it doesn’t necessarily mean s*xual attraction, but good understanding and protection, almost unconditional love, the Moon person loves the energy of the sun person because it brings them a lot of vitality, self-assurance, confidence and power, and the sun person wants to protect the moon person like a child, because the moon person nourishes them a lot and brings them emotional support and stability. There could be a lot of unconditional love but the moon person has to be careful of becoming too moody because otherwise they could exhaust Sun person’s energy. ☉I’ve seen that Virgo Venuses and Aquarius Venuses get along very well and can even match almost instantly, because they both have very picky/mental stimulated natures, but when they meet it is as if they throw away that mask and there is only instant attraction and understanding between them. ☉Trines in synastry charts are very present when there is a lot of silent treatments, lies, ghosting, disrespect and ego/power struggles too is just that with trines you don't realize when all this starts to happen because it feels like is something that has to happen(?) like something that is difficult to stop because of the natural flow of these energies. ☉Mars squares Moon: This aspect is about instant passion in the interaction that can easily leads to attraction, Very Hot, the moon person finds the mars person very passionate, sexy and dominant and the mars person finds the moon person very refined, tender and cute that catches his attention very rapidly, Sometimes the Mars person can be very dominant, controlling or even cold sometimes which at first the Moon person would love it, but in the long run it can become toxic and dangerous but the passion will always remains. ☉Venus aspecting Venus: Generally i don’t talk too much about these Venus aspects in synastry especially in heteros*xual relationships because the energy sometimes stay on a very superficial level, but sometimes these aspects are very fun in work themes or projects. ☉i’ve notice that when someone’s Pluto is touching other person Chiron (especially conjunctions) the Pluto person could be scared of the Chiron person, the Pluto person could Respect a lot the Chiron person and in some cases the Chiron person intimidate’s/makes the Pluto person very nervous, yes ik, you would think it's the opposite, but this is because Chiron person can see all the shit of Pluto person and can trigger a lot of unresolved issues in Pluto person. ☉Mars overlays in 5th house: High school lovers energy, this synastry aspect is passionate but a lot of times it can stay only on a platonic level, there is a lot of attraction and they can get easily turned on by the presence of each other, s*x can be very fun, passionate, experimental because is the house of creativity and with a lot of rough touching. ☉Asteroid Memoria(1247) Conjunct Ascendant: Probably the Ascendant person will never forget the Memoria Person or vice versa, this couple is probably unforgettable and they can mark a very important moment in each other's lives, something memorable and that they will never want to forget, they probably still have things from each other like their sweatshirts, paintings or things that make them remember and miss each other (not in an obsessive way but with lot of love & affection). ☉8th house overlays: Usually the person with Planets overlaying on the 8th house person would feel very intrigued and Mysteriously attracted (sexually) to her/him, but 8th house overlays in synastry are painful/even traumatic sometimes because when the 8th house person also falls in to this obsession energy the planet person tends to feel exhausted because the 8th house person wants insatiably more and more of the planet person, and this provokes that when the planet person exit the relationship it will tear apart the 8th house person because it became like a drug to them so they can experience symptoms such as abstinence, physical, mental and emotional pain. But this is not in all cases, it depends on the maturity of the two people. ☉Eros(433) Conjunct Chiron: In this couple they learn to heal sexually, sexuality could be very tantric and in some cases is not even needed, they heal through their true love for each other and sex can be painful sometimes because it triggers deep insecurities from each other, but there is genuine affection/attraction/sincere love and a desire to be physically present with each other. Yeah, i’m coming back...

[obsessivevoidkitten]

(Hope you guys like this little drabble) Male Plague Doctor Yandere x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Noncon/Dubcon, drugging, mentions of disease and treatment, kidnapping, tricked reader, general yandere behavior)

The kingdom was suffering a massive outbreak of fever, and not a normal one either. It was significantly more virulent and deadly than most others.

As in most times of disease healers had been dispatched to research, treat, and contain the illness.

A plague doctor passed through your humble village, which had remained pretty much unscathed, but had to be inspected for early signs of pestilence BEFORE it became a problem.

Over the course of a couple days the entire village had been looked at and given a clear bill of health. You were the last person to be seen.

You felt fine and you were sure you would be given a clean bill of health.

Oh how wrong you had been.

You shivered under the gaze of the masked man, Dr. Cheverell.

With just one look he knew he needed to have you, healthy or not.

“My GOD, I am afraid you are showing symptoms of a very deadly disease. There’s nothing for it, you will have to come with me to my lab immediately!”

You thought there must be a mistake, but you had no choice, he had nearly absolute authority in such matters.

The doctor had you lay in the back of his carriage and encouraged you to rest if you were able.

“You need to conserve your strength.”

Over the course of the next few weeks you grew weaker and your mind was often foggy. Maybe he was right, he was an expert after all.

He had administered drugs through your food so you would think yourself ill.

Once you were cooperative with your treatment you found yourself drugged more often than not.

He HAD to treat you. Had to listen to your relaxed breaths as the ether claimed your consciousness.

There were other treatments too, ones you could only remember hazily.

You could remember in those moments how he had to probe you. You were too weak to fight him. But you mildly protested as best you could.

“Don’t you want to feel better sweetheart?”

Then you’d acquiesce to Cheverell’s expertise.

It was all so hard to put together. Fragments of memory. Something long and warm slipped inside you, it moved back and forth rhythmically until some sort of fluid was pumped into you.

Surely some type of new treatment.

You were always so shaky, Cheverell often had to bathe and even sometimes feed you. You were glad he was so kind and didn’t see someone in your condition as a burden.

[transmutationisms]

this is probably shaped by my limited frame of reference, but im really fascinated by witnessing the real-time development of adhd as a diagnosis. people attribute so many symptoms to it now or maybe they always did? i was wondering if you have any thoughts on what is the use of adhd specifically as a category within psychiatry. I'm esl so sorry for any confusing wording

no you're right imo; diagnostic categories are always somewhat in flux ofc but ADHD is one that has seen a particularly pronounced shift in the last couple decades. obviously this is multifactorial but my observation goes something along these lines:

'hyperactivity' has been dx'd in children since about the 1950s (also when Ritalin hit the market) but the ADHD dx doesn't really take off until the 90s (also when Adderall, a 2nd-gen reformulation of the 'obesity' drug Obetrol, hit the market). so, it's not all that surprising that 20 years later you see increased patient awareness of the diagnosis, increased popular interest in it, and shifting / expanding ideas of what it means and what ADHD 'is'. it's a relatively young dx.

part of the reason it's young is because it's basically a 'biopsychiatric' dx, meaning it diagnoses certain behaviours as being a 'brain problem' rather than having social causes or context. in practice this is complicated because psychs do use pharmacological approaches in conjunction with psychodynamic ones all the time; nevertheless, the central promise of DSM ADHD and its pharmaceutical treatments has consistently been that the ADHD subject has a physiological, neurological disorder / dysfunction / aberration, and that the drug treatments on the market fix it. that none of this is actually empirically supported is conceptually inconvenient and entrenched by the research process.

the biopsychiatric narrative is worth paying attention to because the context here is one in which it has become commonly accepted that behavioural 'disorders' and affective distress of various kinds can be, basically, either of pure biological origin, or else Your Fault. in the case of childhood hyperactivity, Your Fault historically also included Your Mother's Fault; part of the reason many mothers embraced Ritalin in the 50s and 60s was because the proffered pharmaceutical narrative explicitly challenged the idea that these mothers had done something 'wrong' to result in their (mostly) sons exhibiting disruptive and hyperactive behaviour.

this dichotomy of biology vs personal failing is very overtly present in quite a bit of discourse around ADHD today. if it's my brain being 'wrong' or different, then it's not something I've done wrong but a disease with a simple chemical fix. in this context I don't think it's surprising at all that a lot of popular and patient conceptions of ADHD have seen a considerable widening over the past few decades. often people like to blame this on pharmaceutical companies, and it's true that industry benefits from these discourses and frequently invests in them (eg, via instruments like ADDitude mag). however, that's a pretty simplistic explanation on its own and doesn't really account for the ways in which patients and potential patients also find this diagnostic category personally useful, for reasons ranging from identity-formation to the desire to access prescription amphetamines. ADHD increasingly shows up as a biologised explanation for behaviours ranging from 'eating too many sweets' to 'postural sway' and so on. you can see in such examples how invoking the idea of an aberrant ADHD brain is both reassuring to people who have been made to feel ashamed of certain behaviours, and provides a sense of shared identity and community with others.

all of this is to say: I don't find it surprising at all when I see a relative broadening of notions of ADHD, almost always expressed in biological terms (the 'ADHD brain' operates differently, 'seeks dopamine', causes this or that). ADHD is in some ways a particularly blatant distillation of this general trend in popular psychiatric discourses, for reasons relating to expectations about childhood and child behaviour, and the historical and present relationship between the ADHD label and the regulation of amphetamines. but much of what's happening with ADHD in terms of popular discourses about it can also be seen with many, many other psychiatric diagnoses, to varying extents and in various ways.

my experience writing about ADHD on this website leads me to close by explicitly stating the following: I do not think any ADHD behaviours / symptoms are people's 'fault' or an individual failing; I do not think using drugs for any reason is morally bad or needs to be justified; the fact that I do not think ADHD is a 'brain disease' does not mean I think people are 'making it up' or exaggerating wrt any difficulties they experience personally, professionally, emotionally, &c.