#I feel like I need to start using it more often too

[ao3commentoftheday]

Hi! Lately, I've been trying real hard to start writing again after a break of a couple of years, and it's simply not happening. I took the break to begin with because I figured that I could pick up writing fic again easily when I felt less burned out. But each time I've tried since 2025 started I can barely get the words out. I keep telling myself I need to go slow and build up to it, but my brain blanks after a sentence or two, with or without an outline. I can force myself into a drabble or two, or even a flashfic, but it feels like pulling teeth the entire time. I even tried going back to old drafts and adding to them (unsuccessfully). Nothing works! I'm getting more and more frustrated and angry with myself for taking this long of a break from being creative. Do you have any concrete recommendations for what to do when the ideas/words/characters/whatever just aren't coming? My brain is mush.

(I love this blog. So excited to see you back.)

I'll tell you what I do, but I also want to encourage folks to add their thoughts on the notes. This is very much a situation that can be worked on in a million different ways, so any one particular take might or might not work. Often, frankensteining a bunch together is the better route.

I've currently got two creative hobbies: writing fic and making site skins for AO3. When a site skin isn't working, I just have to drop it. I've been attempting to redo my glowy blue Tron skin from like 4 years ago and every time I go back to it, I just get frustrated and need to stop. I don't have a clear idea of where I want to take it, and so nothing looks "right" because everything feels wrong. For site skins, I need to have a solid idea to latch onto in order to get anywhere with them.

For writing, it's kind of similar. It's a LOT easier to write when I have an idea that really lights a fire under me. However, I've found that I can write even if I just know what the end goal of the story is. Even if my ending is just "and then they bone" at least I know where I need to get my characters in the end, and that guiding principle is really helpful because most of what my characters do in the fic is going to be aimed at that end point.

I don't know if it's just the way that you've phrased it in this ask, but it seems like you can't see the story for the words. If you're focused too much on the act of writing then you might need to back away from that for now and work on just imagining the story first. Spend more time daydreaming or lying in bed staring up at the ceiling and picturing your blorbo in situations. Get into the habit of thinking about the story before you start writing the story. Then the writing part is just transcribing the picture that's already clear in your head.

I well understand the frustration that comes when you've got something in you and no way to get it out. Whatever else is happening, the way you used to go about writing fic doesn't work for you anymore and now you need to discover a new method. Maybe it's handwriting in a notebook instead of typing on a screen. Maybe it's dictating into your notes app. Maybe it's chatting it out with a bestie over coffee or in a DM. Maybe it's something else.

Let's see what other people suggest for you, and then you can cobble together a method of your very own. Good luck, anon! I'm rooting for you ❤️

[ransomwrite]

Cracked Confidence

Amir x ftm! Reader

Summary: You've been getting dysphoria and pushing yourself a bit too hard. Amir wants to try and help.

✧.*✎~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~✎*.✧

Some of the dateables have noticed how strange you’ve been acting all week.

You started wearing baggier clothes, attending to others’ needs until you were emotionally exhausted, and barely looked at the mirror at all.

The last one offended Amir deeply. He watched you run around the house. Ignoring every mirror or reflective surface, which meant you were ignoring him.

“Fine! I'm going to bed.” He hears you call out to Dorian before the door shuts on your face. Forcing you to actually get some rest.

Amir sees this as a chance to finally talk. Watching you sit on the bed with a huff, facing away from the mirror, it all ached him inside.

“Azizam, is everything okay?” He asks, taking a seat beside you. “I have to agree with Dorian that you've pushed yourself too far.”

“I'm fine, just a bit stuck in my head…” You mutter as your fingers play with the edge of your sleeves.

Amir looks at how you fidget, then puts a hand on your leg as comfort. He frowns, noticing that you flinched at such a simple touch.

“Did I do something to upset you?” His voice goes low, you turn to him with wide eyes.

“What? No, of course not.” You shake your head and give a gentle smile to reassure him. “I’m just a bit tired today.”

Though your answer didn't satisfy his questions, Amir noticed how you struggled to put on a smile, and that you hunched over yourself.

“Well, eshgham, just know that you need to wear your confidence out more.” He decides not to push it for now, but puts a kiss on your forehead.

He heads out, but the worry still doesn't settle down.

“Have you noticed something different with… them?” Amir asks Johnny, since he may be the only man who could probably give him a straight answer. “I tried talking to him yesterday but he won't budge.”

“Hm?” Johnny pauses his loud singing to turn to the mirror. “Ah, I never know, he hasn't used me often the past week.”

Amir frowns, you never taking a shower was concerning.

“But, I did hear something about them being insecure.” Johnny mutters, more to himself.

“Insecure?” The word felt like a slap to the face, you were gorgeous in his eyes!

Hector chimes in from the vents, voice low and smooth. “Yeah, I asked Mac about it.” He sounded hurt as he brought it up.

“Something called dysphoria. They said it's when you feel uneasy or dissatisfied, psychologically speaking.”

“Doesn't sound like a good thing.” The shower turns to Hector, who hums in agreement.

Amir processes the words, sure he was vaguely familiar with dysphoria, but now he knew why you couldn't even look towards him.

“Man, I’m feeling deeply sorry for him.” Johnny sighs as he leans on his shower cane.

“I kept trying to help! But I don't really know what to do with these kinds of things…” Hector whines as he confesses. “They won't even accept any of my praise, even if he deserves it. I kept apologizing.”

“He won't even look at me.” Amir whispers, his frown deepening. “Hm, I will keep these in mind.” With that, he plans his next actions on how to help.

Night fell and you got ready for bed. Usually you'd be at the Breaker Box tonight, but Volt and Eddie insisted that you should take an early rest.

Amir appears beside the bed where you were lying down with your face in the pillows. You acknowledged his presence with a small groan.

He sits down, running a hand through your hair as the air was filled with a long silence.

“Eshgham, you know that you're gorgeous, right?” The words break the silence, you hum to let him know you were listening. “How do you want me to help?” You finally face him while still lying down.

“I don't know.” You hesitate, an arm coming up to cover your face.

“Then I'll stay until you know, azizam.” He lies down beside you, playing with the strands of your hair.

He places a hand on your back, slightly pushing you closer, whispering to you. “You're so handsome and wonderful, omram. No matter what your thoughts say.”

“How about tomorrow, we give you a haircut, go through your wardrobe and talk to Barry.” Amir suggests with a smile on his face.

You reciprocate the smile and move closer to him, leaning on his thigh. “Maybe that's what I needed, thanks Amir.”

“Then go get your rest, joonam.” He places a kiss to your hair and rubs circles on your back.

[dazedantics]

Type - Bob Floyd x Reader

I need to stop reading on this site

Bob was an observer.

Maybe he wouldn't talk to a person. Not because he didn't want to or anything like that. But even then he would note every little thing about that person.

What they acted like around certain people or when doing certain things. When they were nervous and what made them calm down. If they'd prefer to be talked to or rather left alone.

Maybe he didn't notice the other things. Like if they were feeling sad or angry. Now, obviously he can see when someone's sad. But if it's deep set or an ongoing thing and they're working to hide it, have been for a while. He can clock that something is going on, but can't really piece together what's going on behind the happy face.

In the moment stuff.

That's what he's quick to pick up on.

Like on the first meet or when he's assigned to a task with a person for a short period of time. He can pretty much guess what they're feeling rather quickly.

He likes to solve problems.

So whenever he gets a sense of something going on, he'll try different methods to help out -make them smile, forget what's going on for a moment. Try and make their day.

Once he figures out the right method, he doesn't forget. Keeps it tucked it away in case he sees that person again.

And that's just with strangers, new people.

So imagine how much he notices about someone he gets close to?

When he gets close to you?

And starts developing feelings after spending so much time watching you.

Not in a creepy way! Just paying attention. The general idea he gets about your person becoming clearer the longer you spend together.

You laugh when he says things, even when he's not trying to be funny. Sit with him during your free hours. Talk to him about random things. Smile at him just cause.

He already found you cute when you'd first met. Never said anything cause that'd be weird. But time seems to make you becoming more beautiful each time he sees you.

You seem to like him.

He senses you're comfortable around him. You seek him out a lot. You're a lot more open with him than you are with others. Something he notices before you even tell him that.

But you're not interested in him the way he is.

You like ... the exact opposite of him.

So it leaves a dull sting at the bottom of his heart knowing he didn't have a chance.

But he's not possessive.

He's happy to keep being just your close friend since he liked you even before his feelings developed. He was supportive. And would rather keep watching out for you if he couldn't be "the one."

He listens to you talk about your crushes. Gets a read on them before telling you his honest opinion on if you should go for it or not then explains why.

At least, he used to be able to do all that just fine till now.

Now where you're both close with all the team, required to come together often, not much chance to go out and see other people, force to form bonds you'd remember for a lifetime.

And Bob has to watch you pine for the guy just so not like him.

See him flirt with you. Watch your heart flutter as you catch the wink they send. That sly grin, teeth showing as they lean against the wall, far too casual in getting close than he should be.

Watch that grin of yours spead. All genuine and hopeful as you say your goodbyes for the day. Giddy as you come back to Bob's side. Eyes saying you'd be talking about the encounter once you were out of earshot of the guy.

And then watch you again when the flirtation goes on for too long and you start feeling dejected by how your chats are leading you nowhere despite how much you want them to.

And that dull ache he felt when realizing it'd never be him becomes worse as he realizes watching you like this is far worse than what he resigned himself to.

"Maybe it's me, Bob," you tell him finally on a late night out at the beach.

You sit on a stoop, side by side, a small gap between the two of you. No thighs touching or shoulders bumping. Something he'd like.

At some point after your arrival here, a silence draped over you two as you stare off at the setting sun across the waves, he'd given in to his thoughts.

Sliding his hand slowly closer to yours about an inch every ten seconds until the sides of your pinkies grazed.

A pause.

Then moving again to rest the end of his hand just atop the end of yours.

Wait.

Then an inch again.

Process repeated until his hand fully enveloped yours.

Not holding not lacing, just resting there. Pensive.

His hand is warm over yours. The beach breeze nippy, making your skin take a slight chill.

He thinks you're greatful for his heat.

At least he hopes you are.

And you stay like that for a while. Not talking. Not looking. Just being.

Still.

Serene.

And then he feels your hand turn under his, flipping over to take proper hold of his hand, fingers laced together and all.

He doesn't look, not even a peek. But a smile grows as he stares out at the gleaming water, glasses slipping down his nose. He can tell his attempts to keep the grin at bay are failing. But you're not looking at him to see it, so it's fine.

Then you sit like that for a moment longer.

Till your heel starts to nervously kick against the stoop where you sit. Not harshly. Just thought filled. You want to tell him something but are worried of the response. He can tell.

But he won't say anything until you do.

Never does.

In this exact moment it's because he wants to just remember this day, this part of the day, clear to look back on in the future.

"No. It is me," you continue. "I pick them all wrong, Bob. And the thing is, I know I do! Right from the start I know they'll be that type. That they'll just talk and talk, making me feel all giddy, but never intend more than just one date. If you can even call what they have in mind that."

Your thumb nervously keeps running over his knuckles. He squeezes your hand. Little pulses to keep you steady. He hopes.

"But I just like those types! Annoying as it is. They make me feel so ... excited! Pumped to start chasing the moon and not come back. I like the flirts. The arrogant types. I dunno, they just seem so confident and I like that."

You let out a deflated sigh, laying back against the stoop, hands still connected, eyes on the sky.

"Maybe I should stop. Wait till I'm back home, give those guys there a chance. But ... I don't know ... they feel so ... desperate? That's not the word, I know. But they're just ... so willing to drop everything and marry me. Which is what I want, don't get me wrong. But the types I like make me work for it, y'know?"

Bob had turned his head to watch you by now, certain words pinging in his mind as you spoke.

You ran a hand through your hair before resting it beside you.

"They make me feel like I'm putting effort into it whereas the other guys make me feel like I don't have to do anything. Feels unfulfilling. I just don't get 'that feeling' when I imagine a life with the sweet ones compared to the type I like."

A sigh.

"Maybe I need to get my brain checked for all this. Force myself to go with the option I know could lead to what I want. That's what's best for me. Right?"

That last part was directed at him rather than just spoken to get it off your chest.

You were looking at him. A little sadness in the eyes, lips subconsciously curled into a pout.

It made him ache to see this.

He shifted his body more towards you, keeping his hand in yours. Nudging up his glasses a bit before speaking.

"It's okay to want that. Not everyone likes the same things."

He didn't plan on himself moving closer, inch by inch like he had with your hands, the pause in between.

But he didn't stop.

"But it's okay to not be the only one working for it either. You can get what you want with any type of person. But that's when you don't force it. When you don't go out there intending to find 'the one.' That feeling you're talking about will come along naturally too."

He was hovering just above your nose by now, eyes scanning yours as they always did.

He moved his free hand up, placing it on your stomach. Then flexed his fingers slightly.

Not intending anything.

Just ... doing.

And he felt that sharp inhale as he did it. How your body stayed tense, eyes widening with something he hadn't quite seen before.

He'd figure out what it was eventually.

"Personally, I feel you should be the one doing nothing. Make them work for it. You have a lot to offer. Make them want to see it ... the way I want to."

Again, a sharp breath and deep swallow.

He could feel himself burning up. A red forming from across his nose to each ear.

He swallowed as well, jaw squaring to stop himself from licking his lips.

He looked down to yours though, tempting thoughts coming to him again. But no. If he was going to do that, he was going to do it right.

But he still wanted to do something.

So after another pause, he leaned in, and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

"You're gonna be fine. If you think this guy is worth it," he shrugged pulling back, "then keep talking. I'll do something about him if it gets worse."

And he stayed sat back up for the rest of the night. Hand in yours. You still laying back. Quiet. Nothing else said other than "goodbye" when you parted for the night.

You didn't speak about that day moving forward.

Kept meeting each other during your usual times. Sitting together. Talking together. Smiling. Laughing.

Like normal.

But he has noticed you hang around that guy more. Talking.

Notices how open the guy has become. Sees him talk back more. Less smirky, more interested.

Sees how you hold both his hands and swing them absentmindedly as you talk.

How the guy spares looks his way more often.

He doesn't sense something mean. But it's odd.

And still he feels that ache in his chest.

And still he doesn't mention it.

Just smiles as you come back to him.

He expects things are going good. That maybe he'll have to settle his mind on the idea that you'll be around him less often in favor of the other guy.

But he'll be fine.

He'll keep observing from afar as he knows he's good at. Ready to keep you safe if need be.

He doesn't expect you pulling him aside one day as he enters the building, dragging him away from your group of people, into the hall, far away enough in case someone might hear.

His initial instinct is concern.

But then you take his hands in yours as you did the guy.

And you start talking, all held back smiles and averted eyes.

You look happy.

Perhaps you'd tell him that guy was the one.

Good for you.

"I know who I want now." You started.

And he smiled. "Good. That's good. Happy for you."

"Bob, I didn't think this would happen. Not to sound rude or anything, it's just ... y'know ... you're so ...," you paused, eyes flicking him up and down. "You?"

You giggled, swinging his hands nervously.

"Not my type at all you know?"

And his heart stilled.

He heard you. He know he did. He wasn't interpreting this wrong was he?

"I've always felt good about you, I love being with you. It's just ... that night at the beach? And you were all ... close ... and saying all that stuff? It gave me that feeling I said never get with your type. Worse than I've felt it with anyone. Well, not worse, that's not the word. And I don't mean to keep referring to you as a type like that's all I see you as! I don't! I truly don't. I just mean it as ... I just ... you know what I mean!"

He was not hearing this right.

There was no way.

"Look, Bob." You took a breath. "I don't know if that was just 'a moment' type of thing. But I've been talking to that guy and he thinks I should try it out."

Oh.

Right.

No way.

You chuckled looking down at the floor. "Y'know, he said he thought you and I were dating or had some history when we first met. That's a good thing right? A sign for potential good in the future?"

Wait ... way?

You shook your head, looking him in the eye now. "Point is, I want to try with you. Talk with you. Flirt with you. Date you. See if you're the guy I should've been looking for all along?"

... No way ....

You laughed nervously. "I- I know you're a quiet guy, Bob. But I kinda need you to respond to this."

That brought him back.

And he blinked once before rushing to cup your face in his hands and plant that kiss he'd been waiting so long to have.

This had to be a dream.

A damn good one if your hands felt that nice running through his hair to bring him closer.

His glasses were knocked askew, but he didn't care. Your lips felt too good on his. Soft and warm and more than he could hope for.

And maybe he got a bit overzealous, hardly pulling back before kissing you again and again with more force.

Not harsh or demanding.

Just ... desperate, maybe? Memorizing every little detail of the moment. The taste, the feel, the reaction, everything.

If this was just some cruel prank then he was making the most of it.

He felt you smile against him, hands on his chest to push him back, a soft whine escaping him as you separated yourself. Unintentional truly. He hardly noticed.

You giggled, lips sucked between your teeth as you caught your breath. "Easy, Floyd. You haven't even given me your answer yet."

"That wasn't enough?" He breathed out.

That laugh came again and he felt himself start to calm. Your hands reaching out set his glasses straight.

"I'd like verbal confirmation, Lieutenant."

"Oh my g- yes! Yes ... yes." He stated. "I would like that."

Then he paused, face flushing as it all caught up to him. Nervous laughter coming from him now.

"Oh my God. Sorry. Sorry ... sorry, I was ... s-sorry ... I'm sorry."

You chuckled, brushing his hair into place. "For what? I enjoyed that."

He let out a heavy sigh through his nose.

A pause.

And then?

He pulled you back in again. And again. And again.

You really couldn't be talking to him like that.

[farfromharry]

Summary: A late night swim with Lando ends up in an admission of feelings that were a long time coming

lando norris x reader

w/c 1565

A vacation with friends were usually some of your favourite moments. You didn’t always get to see them as often as you would have liked. So when someone suggested a group trip to some island somewhere, you were up for it. But tonight, things just didn’t feel right. The first couple days had been nice, fun and relaxing. By day 4 you were burnt out. The constant presence of other people has drained you in a way you should have really anticipated. Maybe leaving your safe cocoon of your bedroom had been a bad idea after all. You just needed a little ‘you’ time.

At some point, when no one was looking and everyone was laughing, you slipped out. There was a pool outside that you had found yourself drawn to for the last few days. It was nice out there, with the view and the peace. 

You didn’t end up being alone for long. 

“Thought I might find you out here.”

You smiled into your knees. If there was one person that was going to find you out here, it was always going to be him. Some of your friends had mentioned the possibility of Lando joining at some point when the race weekend was over. Max didn’t think he would, what with how busy his schedule was. He would probably want to relax on his own. And then he’d seen the pictures, saw you there smiling and knew he couldn’t stay away. He didn’t see you anywhere near as much as he would like to. 

He came and sat beside you without a word. Any normal person would have asked if you wanted company. Sitting out here surely meant you wanted to be alone. Lando’s company was different. It didn’t feel like you were trying to put on an act. You could be yourself with him and there was no judgement. He knew things worked both ways. 

For a while you both sat quietly. Simply being. 

It was you who ended up being the first to break the silence. “Everything was just getting a little too loud in there. Needed to breathe.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” He got it. A little too well actually. His whole life was a little too loud. He knew what it was like to be forced to socialise when it was the very last thing he wanted to do. Sometimes it’s important to take a break for yourself.

A sigh. He could tell it was one of relief. You didn’t need to pretend now. 

It was so nice to be around someone that just got you. “Missed you.” You remembered a time when you used to go to all his races. Back when he first started in F1 you were his number one cheerleader. Then life and work got in the way. Now it just wasn’t realistic. You wished you got to spend more time with him, but he was far too busy living his crazy lifestyle. And you would never make him feel bad for living his life. 

Your words created a flutter of something in his chest. “Missed you more.” That was the complete truth. There was something he felt when hanging out with you that he didn’t ever feel with someone else. You completed a part of him he was unaware was incomplete. 

Eventually Lando got tired of sitting still, something he did often. He got to his feet, pulling his hoodie over his head. Your brow furrowed. It wasn’t exactly boiling, so you had no idea why he was taking off his layers. It didn’t stop where you thought it was going to. Next came his shirt, then his joggers and finally his socks. Only when he stood there in nothing but his underwear did you have some idea what he was about to do. 

He noticed you eyeing him. Obviously he couldn’t just let it go. “What, you want the boxers off as well?”

You managed a laugh, a very nervous one at that, but your cheeks burned nonetheless. It wasn’t exactly something you hadn’t ever thought about. His flirting caught you off guard a lot though. He enjoyed every second of it. 

With a yell, he took off running, taking a dive into the crystal clear water below. 

“What are you doing?” The laugh that slipped out was completely involuntary. All your previous emotions were quickly replaced by bubbling laughter. 

He emerged from the water with a cheeky grin, shaking the water out of his hair like a dog. You rolled your eyes, splashing him back. It didn’t phase him. He simply shoved his hair out of his eyes and continued looking at you with a menacing look. He was up to something. 

In response to your question, he shrugged his shoulders. “Taking a dip. It’s nice in here. You should join me.” He waved his arms in the water, keeping himself afloat, but his eyes were permanently locked on you.

Considering you had come out here to get away from the chaos inside, you didn’t seem to hesitate when he wanted you to join him. He was transfixed when you pulled off your shirt. It filled you with a sense of power you didn’t know you could feel. With anyone else you would have hated the attention, but you were hopelessly gone for this one. You didn’t want him to ever stop looking at you.

Your shorts came off next. He whistled. You rolled your eyes.

A split second was all it took for you to make the decision to go through with it. Your choice of dive was a cannonball. Something to make the biggest splash possible just to bother him. 

Swimming in your underwear with the man you were in love with was freeing in a way you didn’t expect. There was more laughter from you in the past 10 minutes than you’d had all holiday. It was the effect he had on you.

At some point he’d stopped messing around, his eyes softening when he looked at you. The look he was giving you was too inviting to turn down.

You were the one to swim into his arms. 

There had always been some kind of unspoken thing between you. Things were easy with him. They felt right. But it was unclear to both of them why they had never acted on it. Maybe he didn’t want to drag you into his crazy world, the one that included hate and expectations, not to mention the lack of privacy. Maybe you didn’t feel like you belonged in his world. You weren’t a celebrity, or someone who wanted all that attention. You were just you and you liked it like that. But you also like Lando. And you like Lando a whole lot more than any of those other things.

With your arms around his neck, his own took your waist, keeping you pressed close to him. His head tucked into your neck allowing you to card your fingers through his soggy curls. You felt his breath against your skin as he sighed with content. For a short period of time, you just held each other. 

The first kiss to your skin caught you by surprise. His lips against your neck. It was a foreign feeling, though one you could get used to; would rather like to get used to. When you didn’t immediately push him away or react with disgust, he kept going. Another kiss to your jaw, the corner of your mouth. Then he wanted your permission. 

His eyes flickered between yours and your lips, silently asking the question. It was a wonder he couldn’t hear your heartbeat. His nose brushed against yours, thumb tracing your cheekbone. He wanted you to know this was more than just a random act of lust. “I think I love you,” he whispered. There was no ‘think’ about it really. He was just scared of rejection if he bared his heart. 

A breath left your lips. Your heart was pounding. Oddly, you were still at ease. Where you thought a million and one things would be running around in your head, it was quiet up there. You had been unknowingly waiting for this admission. “I know I do. Now, please kiss me.”

Who was he to say no?

Your lips met in a kiss that had been coming for years. 6 years worth of affection poured into one single act. It was overwhelming. It was almost enough to bring you to tears. You never knew you needed Lando like this. Now that you had him, you didn’t think you could ever go back to the unspoken feelings from before. 

If it weren’t for oxygen, you would have kissed him for hours on end. He couldn’t resist stealing one more kiss though. 

The kiss had been coming for so long that it didn’t need to be addressed. So neither of you spoke about it. He focused on something else instead. “They’re totally watching us, right now,” he muttered. How he knew, you had no idea. Maybe he felt their eyes on them.

Your head turned, looking right at the sliding glass doors where your friends were in fact all standing there, watching. They scattered as soon as they knew they’d been caught, pretending they hadn’t done anything. You laughed. Nothing was going to spoil the bubble you were in.

[noir-tarot]

What you might need to hear right now:

Choose a Monet painting!

Please give me your feedbacks afterwards, i want to improve on my readings ♡

Pile 1 (left) 🪷

You will find the solution to a problem that has been in your life for a long time! Some of you might even be going through a very turbulent time in your lives right now, but don’t worry, this will pass! After this, you will find yourself in a moment of peace and with a lot of potential in your hands to start a new phase!

This reading seems to be about the aftermath of dealing with this problem/ situation. You can use this opportunity to try something new and improve yourself, to take actions towards what you want and do what you desire! The most important thing is to not miss this opportunity and let it pass. In this process, there might be things from your old problems that could resurface in your life (fears, insecurities, even the consequences itself of the problem you had), but don’t let it get in your way! Even if you still find yourself in this situation, don’t lose hope: the worst is coming to an end or has already passed and you have great things ahead of you! Welcome these positive energies into your life and don’t let your fears haunt you!

Pile 2 (middle) 🌉

You seem to be in a situation where you have been thinking a lot about your life in general. You might even be isolating yourself from the world because of that. It looks like the main issue is that you don’t know what to do when faced with the current problems/ situations you have: you might know what is bothering you but you are having difficulties with taking actions or talking with others about it. (For some of you, it might be related to romantic problems or conflicts you are currently having).

This reading seems to be asking for you to express more your feelings and what is bothering you. You have been spending way too much time reflecting and not enough making choices and “moving on” with what you want in mind. Take care of yourself, do things that increase your self esteem! If you have a creative hobby, it might also be a sign to do it more often and express your creativity!

Pile 3 (right) 🌌

There are new opportunities ahead of you, but you might be afraid of taking them or not even noticing these chances. This is happening because you are not getting out of your comfort zone. Perhaps because it involves something you are not very experienced at or you are afraid of how it will make you feel if you fail. This seems to be related to old insecurities and fears you have.

You need to let these new opportunities come to you, don’t try to stop what is happening at the moment! Instead, try to analyze more your insecurities and fears, and most importantly: be kind to yourself. There are new things coming in your way, take this as a new beginning and an opportunity instead of something that could hurt you. Focus on the present and enjoy the moments as you go through them!

[orellazalonia]

could I possibly request?

Here's my request if you find it interesting: 1940s right before the war where the reader has been diagnosed with polio and now struggles to get around and is often made fun of or things similar to what Steve faced before the serum and Bucky learns about the discrimination reader is facing one day and now protects the reader and helps her? Could be an x reader or just fluff (idk maybe even possessive bucky x reader)

Thank you so so so so so much!!!!! I love your writing

Hello there! Definitely an interesting request, thank you for sharing! I apologize in advance if some detailed aren’t entirely accurate but I hope you enjoy nonetheless. Happy reading!!!

Worth Fighting For

Summary: After being diagnosed with polio in 1940s Brooklyn, you quietly endure cruel stares and mocking until Bucky Barnes steps in as the first to defend you, then to stay. Protective, possessive, and unexpectedly gentle, Bucky becomes the one constant in your life who never treats you like you're broken, only like you’re his. (Possessive!Bucky Barnes x reader)

Word Count: 2.5k+

Main Masterlist

The world hadn’t stopped just because your legs had.

Brooklyn still bustled with its usual rhythm of horns honking from yellow cabs, newsboys yelling out the day’s headlines, mothers hanging laundry while children darted between buildings like moths chasing light. The war hadn’t come yet, but everyone could feel it in the air. Tension clung to the city like humidity, and neighbors spoke in low voices when they mentioned Europe.

You had your own battle.

The crutch thudded rhythmically against the uneven sidewalk as you made your way home, careful with every step. One wrong tilt of the foot, and your balance gave way. The heavy metal brace strapped to your leg bit into your skin with each movement. It was awkward and very noticeable. You hated it.

Polio had taken your strength, the way it had taken so many children before you. Your body had been fevered and limp for weeks. When the fever broke, you thought you were better. But then came the brace. The limp. The quiet, disappointed sighs from relatives who thought maybe you'd bounce back like the others had.

Now, you weren’t the girl who used to run from street to street, laughing until your sides ached. You were the girl people looked at with a pitying glance. The girl who didn’t go dancing on Friday nights. You took the long way around, avoiding the louder streets, the crowds, the pitying eyes.

You tried not to hate it all. Your limp, your silence, the brace, the way people spoke louder to you like your legs had broken your ears too. But some mornings, like today, you’d wake up already tired. Tired of being stared at. Tired of pretending you didn’t notice. Tired of holding your head high when everything else ached.

The bakery was three blocks from your apartment. You used to run there barefoot for warm rolls, waving coins in your hand. Now, it felt like a trek. But you missed the smell of yeast and flour, the warmth in your palms.

And more than anything, you missed feeling normal.

The corner outside the bakery was always busy around mid-afternoon. Boys loitered against stoops, smoke curling from their lips as they passed time talking about girls, sports, or who was getting drafted next. Most of them didn’t know your name. You were just the girl with the brace. The limp. The crutch.

Today, you had just wanted a roll and maybe a breath of something warm that didn’t taste like pity.

You’d almost made it past the cluster of boys, half in uniform, half pretending they should be, when it started.

“Hey, sweetheart,” One called out, loud enough to cut through traffic. “Need help dragging that leg along?”

You kept walking.

“Aww, don’t ignore me. She probably didn’t hear, cripples got slow ears too, huh?”

The others laughed. It was sharp and cruel. The kind of sound that made your chest squeeze tight.

You gripped the crutch tighter, eyes ahead. Trying not to give them any reaction.

One of them mimicked your walk, dragging his leg in a jerky rhythm, swinging his arm stiff like a puppet. “Look, boys! It’s the Brooklyn shuffle!”

Another round of laughter. You were only a few feet away when a pebble hit your brace. Not hard, but enough to make the metal clang against your shin.

Then–

“Say that again.”

The voice came low. Not loud, but unmistakable.

The kind that made people stop.

You turned slightly, just in time to see him: James Buchanan Barnes, standing a few yards behind you with his sleeves rolled up and shoulders tense. He looked like he’d walked into the middle of something he didn’t like and he was about to make sure everyone else didn’t like it either.

The boy who’d thrown the pebble turned. “Barnes, it’s a joke. What’s it to–“

Bucky closed the distance in two long strides and grabbed the front of the boy’s shirt.

“You think you’re funny?” His voice was quiet, steady.

“Hey, take it easy–“

The kid’s back hit the lamppost with a clang that turned heads across the street.

Bucky didn’t punch him. He didn’t have to.

“You pick on someone just walking, trying to mind her damn business again, and I’ll make sure you don’t walk straight for a month. We clear?”

The kid nodded, eyes wide.

“Good.”

Bucky let go then turned to you.

Your breath caught in your throat when he looked at you, directly this time. Not past you. Not at your brace. Just you.

“You alright?” he asked.

You managed a nod, even if your voice failed you. “Y-yeah. I… I didn’t expect…”

He shrugged like it was nothing. “People like that? Not worth your time.” Then, a pause. “But they don’t get to talk to you like that. Not while I’m around.”

It was so sudden. So matter-of-fact. He stood beside you like it was the most natural thing in the world like it had always been his place to.

You weren’t sure what to say, or even what to feel. Gratitude? Embarrassment? Relief? All of it tangled up in your chest.

“I’m Bucky,” He added, a little softer now, like he was offering something private. “Bucky Barnes.”

“I know,” You said, surprising even yourself.

His grin flickered up. “You live near Clinton Street, right? I’ve seen you around.”

You nodded.

“Then let me walk you back unless you’ve got somewhere else to be.”

You didn’t anymore. So you let him.

The two of you walked slowly, but Bucky never once glanced at your crutch or the way your foot dragged a little more the longer you walked. If anything, he adjusted his stride without comment, his hands tucked casually in his pockets like this was how he spent every afternoon.

You hadn’t said much, still wrapping your head around the fact that he was walking beside you. Bucky Barnes. The man everyone seemed to know. The smooth-talking, devilishly grinning kind of guy mothers warned their daughters about but secretly liked.

And yet… he was quiet with you.

No teasing. No bravado. Just presence. You could feel it like warmth against your side.

“How long you had the brace?” He asked finally, glancing over.

You hesitated. “Since last year. Summer.”

He nodded once.

“That when the polio hit?” His voice wasn’t probing. It was careful. Like he didn’t want to touch a bruise too hard.

“Yeah,” You answered softly, eyes on the sidewalk. “Fever came fast. It took a week before I could sit up again. Then they said my leg was–” You paused, frowning. “Not coming back all the way.”

Bucky’s jaw ticked, like he hated the idea of it. Hated the memory of someone telling you that.

“You walk better than most guys I know after a long night at the bar,” He said after a beat. “And you could do it in heels.”

You snorted. “I don’t wear heels.”

He looked mock-offended. “Well, you could. That’s the point.”

You laughed, and something shifted in his expression. Softer. Proud.

When you reached your street, the air had cooled into that golden, hazy kind of warmth that made summer in Brooklyn almost romantic. You didn’t want it to end, but your building was right there.

Bucky didn’t move to leave.

Instead, he turned toward the sidewalk, narrowing his eyes across the street.

You followed his gaze and saw a couple boys on bicycles parked at the corner. They weren’t doing anything. Just watching.

But that was enough.

Bucky stepped in front of you slightly, posture stiffening.

You blinked. “They’re just kids.”

“They’re staring.”

“They didn’t say anything.”

“They were about to.”

You laid a hand on his arm before you even thought about it. “Bucky.”

His eyes flicked down to your hand… and stayed there for a beat too long.

He didn’t say anything, just let out a long breath and relaxed his shoulders. But you could tell something in him had snapped tight. Like a cord wrapped around the part of him that couldn’t stand watching you get looked at like that. Like something weak. Something broken.

“Let me walk you again tomorrow,” He said quietly.

“I can manage–“

“Yeah,” He cut in, looking at you. “But I want to.”

You swallowed hard. “Why?”

He shrugged, but it wasn’t careless. It was honest. “Because someone ought to. Because no one should ever make you feel small just walking down the street.”

It wasn’t said angrily. Just a promise.

And you knew then, this wasn’t a one-time act of kindness. Bucky Barnes had chosen a side. Your side.

Three days passed. And somehow, Bucky hadn’t missed a single one.

He’d show up just before noon near the deli like he hadn’t been waiting, like it was just coincidence. But his hair was always neat, shirt sleeves rolled up, and he’d have some dumb story to tell to distract from the way his eyes swept the street for anyone looking too long in your direction.

At first, you thought maybe it would fade. That his attention was temporary. A nice gesture. Maybe he’d get bored or distracted by a prettier girl, someone with a full stride and polished nails.

But Bucky was still there. Still watching. Still falling into step beside you like it was muscle memory.

And by Friday, he started waiting inside the bakery.

You spotted him by the window, tapping the counter with a grin when he saw you. “Took you long enough.”

“You’re the one not working,” You pointed out as he handed you your favorite roll, already paid for.

He smirked. “You don’t think protecting you is a full-time job?”

You gave him a look, and he just winked.

That was the thing about Bucky, he flirted like breathing, but something in the way he looked at you made it feel different. Like he wasn’t performing. Like he meant it.

You were still talking when someone shoved the bakery door open hard enough that the bell cracked against the frame.

A familiar voice. One of the boys from last time.

“You’ve got some nerve,” He said, glaring at you before his eyes flicked toward Bucky. “Both of you.”

Bucky didn’t even flinch.

“Want to run that by me again?” He said casually, stepping slightly in front of you, not enough to block you out, just enough to make a point.

“I wasn’t talking to you, Barnes.”

“Yeah?” Bucky said, his voice low, almost amused. “Then you’re already making your second mistake.”

The tension sharpened in the air. You could feel it thrum through Bucky’s arm as he shifted his stance, calm but coiled.

Then you heard another voice, softer and lighter, “Buck?”

A smaller man stood just inside the bakery door now, hands in his coat pockets, brows lifted. He was blond, a little scrawny-looking, but his presence filled the space in a quiet, grounded way.

Steve.

You recognized him. Everyone in this part of Brooklyn knew Bucky’s best friend, the artist with a heart too big for his lungs. The one who still stood up for every lost cause, even when he couldn’t stand for long himself.

Bucky didn’t take his eyes off the guy across from you. “Steve, take her outside.”

You started to object, but Steve had already come to your side.

“C’mon,” He said gently, offering his arm. “Let’s wait across the street.”

“I’m fine,” You muttered under your breath, but Steve just gave you a look that was too kind to argue with.

So you went. The moment you were out the door, Steve nodded and let it shut behind you. You looked back once through the glass. Bucky hadn’t moved. But something about his stance was different now. Tighter. More dangerous.

You never heard what he said, but the other guy didn’t walk out, he stumbled.

Literally.

Tripped over the doorframe and scurried off, red-faced and muttering.

Bucky came out two minutes later, smoothening out his sleeves and brushing his hands like he’d just finished taking out the trash.

Steve just whistled. “You know you can’t keep doing that every time someone runs their mouth.”

Bucky ignored him and looked straight at you. “You alright?”

You nodded slowly. “What did you say to him?”

He shrugged. “Nothing you have to worry about.”

You stared. “Bucky–”

“I mean it,” He said, voice low, firm.

Then he glanced at Steve like he already knew what his friend was about to say.

Steve didn’t argue. He just smiled faintly and turned to you. “He gets like this when he gives a damn.”

You blinked. “Oh?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Don’t start, Steve.”

Steve just grinned. “Too late.”

Your stomach fluttered. And Bucky, who had barely let anyone near you all week, didn’t argue. He just looked at you like you were something that belonged with him.

And heaven help anyone who thought otherwise.

Your relationship with Bucky continued to grow from there. It started small with little things he did without asking. Things you didn’t even realize he was doing until it became routine.

Like the way he always took your crutch before you sat down, never rushed, never awkward; just slid it out from under your arm and leaned it carefully against the wall. Or how he’d wait at the bottom of your apartment steps, holding out a hand with a quiet “C’mon, doll,” before you even got the chance to ask for help.

Sometimes, you didn’t think he realized how tightly he was wound around you.

But everyone else did.

You were at the corner store when it happened again.

The grocer’s son who was always a little too bold, leaned across the counter and smiled. “You know, if you ever wanted company, I got two strong legs and a truck out back.”

You froze mid-reach for your wallet, unsure if you’d heard him right.

Then came the voice behind you.

“Back off.”

Two words. Cold and angerous.

The boy looked up, eyes wide just as Bucky stepped into view.

He wasn’t even doing anything. No fists, no shouting. But his eyes were darker than usual, and the way he stood behind you, close enough that your shoulder brushed his chest made it clear the only thing holding him back was you.

The boy stammered something, and Bucky leaned in just enough to make the space feel smaller. “She’s got company. Mine. Always has.”

You didn’t speak until you were outside again, groceries in one hand, your cheeks warm from more than just the summer heat.

“Bucky…”

“He was looking at you wrong.”

“He was looking at me like I’m not made of glass,” You muttered, unable to meet his eyes.

He stopped walking.

“I don’t think you’re made of glass,” He spoke softly, and when you looked up, his expression was serious. “But if someone treats you like you’re easy to take? To mock? To lean over like you owe them something?” His jaw flexed. “I don’t care how polite they are. They’ll still answer to me.”

You didn’t know what to say really. Not when he looked at you like that, like the whole world narrowed down to you and what you deserved.

So instead, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

He went still, breath catching just slightly then the faintest flush rose up his neck, betraying him.

And for once, you were the one who made James Barnes speechless. And it made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you were someone worth fighting for.

[aloeverawrites]

So it's been, ten years now? And I wanted to tell you all "The story of how the blueberries have been settling into life with humans and vice versa".

Civilisation's taking some time to adjust. Some people remember the war and hate blueberries, some blues feel the same way.

Some absolutely love the blueberries and I'm one of them. I actually have one living in my house, her name's Anna. I mean, I named her Anna I don't really know how to say her blue name, I don't have the mental capability of that. You have to have a sense only blueberries have to fully speak their language and my translator app can only do so much.

A lot of people have started having blueberries as pets, or the blueberries have started keeping us as pets? We disagree on who is whose pet, although we can kind of agree that the cats control us all. As they should. You haven't lived until you've seen a blueberry scrambling across the floor trying to run away from a cat that's insisting on an early dinner time. It's peak.

That said blueberries don't often get to interact with cats, see we have to take a special kind of antibiotic to kill bacteria we have that's fine for us, but not so great for them and vice versa. The blues are pretty similar to fungi except not that at all (I know, biologists are scrambling to keep up) so they have to make sure we don't catch anything weird from them either. Our medicines are doing better with our joint efforts but people and blues who cohabitate often have slightly worse immune systems than people who don't live with them. Sorry I shouldn't say people and blues, blues are people too tbh. Weirdly enough though, people who live with blues can see better and blues who live with people can hear and most blues can't really hear well at all. We don't understand it either. (The biologists really need to get to stepping with this.) So about the cat thing, we have to feed our cats a special food so their gets don't, you know, kill our homies. And not all cats take to it, so yeah not many blues live with cats. I am the lucky exception. Seeing them interact is just so funny.

We love the species we evolved with on earth with, don't get me wrong, but. It's been really nice to be able to talk, in the limited ways we can, to another species that has advanced technology and figured out space travel. Even if they have done better at space travel then us, and also technology in general. We're not resentful. :/ They do make fun of us for our spaceships and lack of ability to survive in space tho and it is very rude.

Anyway, also their translators have helped us speak to other species on earth, we've made huge advancements from that. Who knew spiders would be so good at engineering? (Well, spiders. The spiders knew that.)

Also, guess what we just discovered? It's so great, apparently the leaders from just before the invasion, were super disdainful about humans and also lower level blues so they sent their scientists to investigate us and find the worst ways to torment us. Similar to how things were on earth before the class war, the worst leaders didn't really listen to their scientists and activists much, so the lower level blues were kind of fed up with them too.

They liked humans and didn't really want to hurt us, so they told their leaders that humans hated things that we actually liked, like three day workweeks, and waygu beef. They also threw in the strawberry thing because, well if they're going to trick their leaders they might as well get something out of it and they had tasted strawberries when they were out in the field. They were never going back to a strawberry less existence.

So yeah, the kinder blueberries were covering humanity's ass back before we even knew they existed. I love those guys. (Well most of them-)

I'm writing this with Anna sleeping on my chest right now (does she sleep? Hibernate? Meditate? Nobody knows.) Life is a lot more peaceful now that we stopped letting the cruelest members of our species dictate how things were gonna go for everyone else.

The alliance between blues and humans has been great, as has the alliance between humans and every other species. We're pretty much all vegan now, nobody's killing anyone else. Plus lab grown food is super advanced now.

Yeah it's... nice. It just really shows that if you focus on caring about others, instead of hating them, the world can be a way more beautiful place for you all.

We've also been working together on a galactic defence program in case another alien species wants to get us both. We're also a little worried about the blue mainplanet changing policies and coming after us? Their base on Mars is basically a colony, shared with humans in exchange for letting them live on earth too.

The blues are considering sending some humans over as peacekeepers to begin immigrating to the blue planet and keep a solid human presence there to remind everyone not to, you know, kill us all. Also so they don't turn on the colony blues. We're trying to improve their technology so they can keep in touch with their home planet and keep them more united and maintain peace with the home world. (Also I will confess. We did create a new form of social media for them to keep them connected and now the blues are doing stupid lil dances across the lightyears. I know. Honestly we might have given the home world a reason to want to fight humanity-)

It's been working so far. It might not work forever. But, we'll deal with that day when we come to it. Humanity has dealt with worse. But we have peace now, and we're not going to waste it. We know how hard we fought for it, how many people died. So I'm going to stop writing and follow Anna's led and take a nap. My own version of peace in a peaceful world. The war can wait until we wake up.

"Dear earthlings, prepare to be my slave!" Announced the alien. "You will have to work 3 entire days from Monday to Wednesday, you will only get A5 wagyu steak for meals, and if that isn't cruel enough you'll have to work 2 entire torturing hours of picking strawberries every single work day!"

[devinescribe]

The Kinda Guy To…

Damian Wayne

Oh this sweet boy...

- He thinks he's so nonchalant and badass, when in reality he's an emotionally stunted boy who doesn't know what a crush is. When he starts liking you he's immediately like I don't know what this is but I don't like it, she makes my heart beat faster she needs to LEAVE

- Eventually when he realizes he has feelings for you, he's immediately just telling you. Why would he wait and let it fester? He's very blunt, and very straightforward.

"Hey, just so you know, I like you romantically. If you reciprocate my feelings, would you like to... do something? I haven't thought that far ahead."

- He does feel a little panicked when you don't answer for a few seconds, but when you respond with a smile, and say you also like him, he's letting out a relieved sigh.

- He's not a big physical touch guy, often preferring to spend time with you. Even if it's just both of you laying on the floor staring at the ceiling (occasionally his dog... or cow...) join you.

- He loves his sweet you are to his animals. He's an animal lover and couldn't be with someone that hates them.

- Often, he will mutter in Arabic. Maybe it's out of frustration, but during soft moments it's because he doesn't want you to know what he's saying because he doesn't want you to think he's all soft and mushy... he is.

- Brags to Jon about getting an awesome and amazing girlfriend like you and that Jon can't have her. Jon only jokes about sharing you once. Never again.

- He always has you as his plus one to any gala. You best believe that you get a brand new dress every time too, even if you protest. Bruce Wayne is more than happy to help his son spoil you.

- "Leave my beloved alone, Timothy."

"But she's so cute she's adorable I could just squish her-"

"DROP MY GIRLFRIEND OR I'LL BEAT YOU SENSELESS DRAKE-"

- Very protective. I dunno if you could tell. He tells you he's Robin when you're just friends. Now it's extra imperative that his identity not be revealed. Because that puts a target on you.

- He trusts you more than anything. Seriously. He will not date anyone he does not trust. He was friends with you for years before he gained feelings for you and confessed. To him, trust is everything.

- Hates when you talk down on yourself because he doesn’t understand how you could think so lowly of yourself. He thinks you’re the most amazing woman ever.

- If you were a vigilante like him or had powers, you two definitely team up. You fall into a natural rhythm with him, watching each other’s backs and fighting in sync.

- Loves to cook. He helps Alfred in the kitchen sometimes. However, he mainly likes to cook for you. He seeks praise.

- Has so many random bruises and injuries from patrols you patch up or freak out over.

“What do you mean that they didn’t get you that bad? Damian, there’s a cut along your whole arm built like a chasm!”

“Yeah. Not bad. Could be worse.”

*He passes out from blood loss a few seconds after.*

- Big softy. Even if he doesn’t want to admit it. He is. When he falls, he falls hard.

- He loves spoiling you with gifts. They’re not just random gifts either. They’re thoughtful and something practical most times. His gifts can range from a chocolate bar or your favorite candy…. To a first class plane ticket to your favorite place for a few days.

- If you have back problems, or your neck hurts or anything like that, he’s fixing it. And he can. You’re just scared to break your back 😭

- Cutie. Follows the sidewalk rule. Unless you’re in a worse part of Gotham. In which case… he’s walking on the inside cuz alleys are more dangerous.

- Notices even the smallest details. He noticed how you went from dressing super nice one day to being in sweats and an oversized shirt. Hmm…

“Here. Dark chocolate. And a heating pad. I made us dinner plans for us to go to your favorite place. You don’t have to dress nice if you don’t want.”

“W-what-“

“You’re on your period aren’t you?”

…

“How do you always know?”

- Let’s you sharpen one of his swords. Just so there’s always something you do or did with him.

- Speaking of… make his jewelry. Or buy matching things. He will wear it religiously. Never takes it off.

- Always offers his hand or arm to you when you get out of a vehicle.

- Always has one dance with you at every gala… sometimes everything is too much and he wants to go outside. He drags you with him because you’re his emotional support Y/N.

- “Jon. Put my beloved back on the ground.”

“But… but this is so fun…”

“Dami pleaseeeee? Just one more time?”

He can’t say no to the overwhelming power of Jon Kent and Y/N L/N’s puppy dog eyes.

- You don’t even have to ask for something for it to already be next to you or done within the next hour.

“Damn… I really want like… some… spiced chai… mmm….”

He will have the best cup of chai sitting next to you in twenty minutes.

[queersyourgender]

Do you have anything cooking for Dr.Ellis? I think i’d pay real money to have her smile at me.

Something Nice — Parker Ellis x GN!Reader

Notes: I feel that on a spiritual level, Ayesha knocked that shit out of the park and right into my heart... Je suis SMITTEN!! And now, so are you ;3c

———

Everybody and their grandmother knew you were absolutely smitten with Dr. Parker Ellis. It wasn't just common knowledge, it was fact. If someone looked up the expression head over heels in an idiom dictionary, your face would pop up next to a picture of Parker. That's how bad it was.

You're an x-ray tech, so you're rarely seen out and about on the hospital grounds. Usually, it's nurses and med students who are the ones to come to you to receive updates and results. One time, just once, during her second year of residency (because, you've been nursing this crush for two years), Dr. Ellis was the one who came in.

You never forgot her from that day forward. You doubted she even knew your name, but you definitely knew hers. You knew perhaps too much about her, about her camaraderie and family-like relationship with her attendings Jack Abbot and John Shen.

The only reason you knew this is because you thought you'd been subtle while asking around about the doctor with the beautiful smile. Now you live in a Hell of your own making, when John stops you at even turn and asks you if you've even introduced yourself yet.

So yeah, you don't really leave your little hidey-hole much. But sometimes, just sometimes, you need a break from the images of broken skeletons. Especially when they're little ones. So today, after glancing at the clock only to find it reading midnight, not even halfway through the shift yet, you sigh and get up off your chair to take a walk.

The Emergency Room isn't exactly anyone's top spot for a relaxing break away from traumatic displays, but it's the one you seek out anyway, given that it's the only other place in PTMC you have any friends in. You saunter around aimlessly, hoping John is around to take your mind off of things with his nonchalant attitude and stupid little iced coffees.

It's not John you find.

It's her, in all her radiant beauty, talking to Dr. Abbot and pointing down at her chart to ask him about something or another. The older man spots you first, and a downright evil smirk crosses his face as he waves you over, like you have any reason to be part of that conversation at all.

Still, when Parker curiously looks up to see who it is he motioned over to talk, you have no choice but to heed the call and walk towards them, heart racing in your chest. “Hey, kiddo,” Jack greets you amicably, though a little teasingly. “What're you doin’ out of your burrow?”

“Just needed a break,” you say, cringing at the way your voice leaves you high-pitched and strangled. Jack doesn't seem worried, since he knows that you're only panicking because this is the closest you've ever stood to Parker since you met her, but she doesn’t know that.

So she asks you if you're alright, and she uses your name. Your jaw drops slightly at that, blinking at her in pleasant surprise as the butterflies in your stomach start throwing raves. “You know my name?” You can't help but ask, like some kind of middle schooler with a crush, and Parker cocks a brow.

“I wouldn't forget a face like yours,” she says casually, and it completely knocks the wind out of your lungs. Visibly, it seems, because she suddenly smirks, like she now knew something you didn't. She turns to her attending and gives him a nod. “Anyways, I've got to go check in with Room Two. Thanks for the consult, doc.”

Before she leaves, she very minutely tilts her head in your direction and smiles. Your knees nearly give out as she gives you a mock-salute and says: “You should come out here more often. Wouldn't hurt to see something nice every now and then.” Then she walks off like she didn't just upend your entire night.

“Don't pass out, kiddo,” Jack half-jokes, eyeing you like you actually might, and you bury your no doubt flaming red face into the palms of your hands to muffle your scream.

[neurotica-tales]

Yandere Tighnari Headcanon

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Up Next: Yandere Gorou Headcanon, Yandere Xiao Headcanon, Yandere Baizhu Headcanon, Yandere Zhongli Headcanon

If you liked this story, don't forget to also check out my other Genshin Impact stories HERE!

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Tighnari doesn't fall in love easily, or often. He’s too practical for that—too logical, too rooted in routine. He keeps his heart focused on the forest, on research, on responsibilities.

Romance is inefficient.

Unstable.

Irrational.

But when you arrive in Gandharva Ville—gentle, curious, respectful of the land in a way most outsiders aren't—he takes notice. Not because you’re flashy or loud. But because you’re quietly thoughtful.

You ask genuine questions. You step lightly over moss. You wait for squirrels to cross your path.

At first, he’s distant. Courteous but clipped.

He treats you like any guest—gives you the basics, warns you about the local flora, and assumes you'll be gone within a week.

But then you stay. And he finds himself watching.

He tells himself it's just vigilance. You’re not used to the jungle. It’s natural to keep an eye on you.

Completely normal. Sensible.

But he starts noticing more than he should—how your eyes linger on blooming flowers, how you fidget with your sleeves when nervous, how your voice sounds when you're excited about a rare plant sighting.

He starts adjusting his schedule. Not obviously. You won’t see it at first. But the forest will.

Your walks seem to always intersect with his now. You’ll go out to collect herbs, or to admire a cluster of fungi, and suddenly he’s there—“monitoring spore dispersal” or “observing squirrel behavior.” He’s always got a reason. Always rational.

But he’s always there.

He tells you forest safety is important. He offers to walk with you. He explains the medicinal uses of the leaves you pick. Sometimes, he gives you ones he’s already prepared—always specific to your needs.

You never asked for this level of care. But you never feel burdened by it either. He makes it feel... natural.

As if it's simply what he does.

As if you are just part of the forest now—something he tends to like everything else.

You find small things by your door.

A bag of crushed herbs for tea when you mention a sore throat.

A cloth pouch that smells like cedar and mint when you complain about headaches.

He never takes credit. But you know it’s him.

He never oversteps—at least, not in a way you can point out. He's polite. Gentle. Always composed.

His eyes never leer. His hands never linger. But there’s an intensity there that’s difficult to ignore, especially when he looks at you too long and doesn’t blink.

He’s emotionally grounded, even when his feelings deepen.

He never erupts. He studies. Listens. Waits.

He wants to be someone you trust before he ever confesses what you really mean to him.

But as his feelings grow, so does his desire to keep you close.

When other visitors speak too fondly of you, he listens a little too closely.

When they ask if you’ve been to Sumeru City, he interrupts with reasons why the forest is safer. 

“The air there’s drier. You’ve only just adjusted to the pollen levels here. Best not risk it.”

You never hear him raise his voice. But if someone tries to get too close—emotionally or physically—he changes.

Subtly.

Sharply.

The kind tone remains, but the words come clipped.

Controlled.

“I think they’re better suited to the city, don’t you?” he’ll say of someone you're fond of.

“They don’t understand how things work here.”

“They wouldn’t know what kind of plant can paralyze someone just by touch.”

Always said calmly. Always with that distant smile.

He doesn’t lie. He just... steers the truth.

Your paths never stop crossing. Even when you try to leave the forest earlier one day, he appears on the trail—startled, but smiling.

“I was looking for a beetle sample. I didn’t expect you here. Lucky coincidence, hmm?”

But it’s not coincidence.

He knows your habits down to the hour.

The forest speaks to him, and he listens for you in every rustling leaf, every footprint in the moss.

He presses your favorite flowers between pages of his old journals, logs when you smiled last, memorizes how many cups of tea you drink per day.

It’s not obsession in the loud, frenzied sense—it’s quieter. Rooted. Like vines crawling upward without anyone noticing.

If you talk about leaving—even briefly—he grows still. His tail stops moving. His tone softens even more.

“You’ve only just started adapting. The city could set back your progress. I’d feel better if you stayed a while longer.”

And if you insist, your plans begin to unravel—naturally, of course.

The guide you needed is unavailable. The bridge ahead is temporarily out. Rain makes the slope too slick.

Nothing suspicious. Just misfortune. And he’s there to comfort you whenever it happens.

You start to feel like the forest itself is nudging you back into place.

He would never hurt you. The very thought is unbearable to him.

But he’ll reshape the world around you if that’s what it takes to keep you safe.

And near.

And his.

He doesn’t confess with grand declarations. He waits until you’re tired, until you’re frustrated, until the city feels far away and he’s the only calm in the storm.

Then he says, “You’re happier here. I can see it. You don’t have to pretend. You belong here—with me.”

You never realized how deeply rooted his love had become.

It’s not possessive in the traditional sense.

He’s not clinging. He’s not begging. He’s simply there. Always.

Soft-spoken. Steady. Immovable.

And in time, you begin to wonder if leaving was ever really possible.

Because Tighnari doesn’t trap you.

He makes you feel like you were never meant to leave at all.

[marixrose]

Can I request an Obey Me! character react to MC, who always smiles and laughs? Like even when they are just having a normal conversation, there's a small smile on their face that will turn into a big smile as they talk?

Yes! Thank you for requesting this, such a fun idea!

🌸 MC isn’t faking it—they’re just naturally cheerful, always smiling gently and laughing often, even when things are simple or quiet. That smile is constant, and it grows as they speak.

Includes the brothers + side characters

Lucifer

At first, Lucifer thinks you’re just overly polite.

“You smile… a lot. Are you trying to butter me up for something?”

But over time, he notices: it’s not flattery. It’s just you. You smile when you talk about breakfast. When you ask how his day was. Even when he’s being strict, you look at him with that same soft grin—and somehow, it disarms him.

It gets to the point where he catches himself smiling back.

“Tch… You’re far too charming for your own good. Keep that up and I might let you get away with anything.”

Deep down? Your smile reminds him of the warmth he thought he lost in the Fall.

Mammon

Mammon is so down bad. Your constant smiling short-circuits his tsundere brain every five minutes.

“Wha—W-Will ya stop smilin’ at me like that?! What’re you planning?! …N-Not that I care or anything!”

You could be asking about the weather and he’d be flustered. He starts inventing errands just to hear your laugh. When you laugh at his dumb jokes? He nearly melts.

Eventually, he gets addicted to it—he’ll try even harder to make you laugh.

“There it is! That smile! Damn it… it’s not fair bein’ that cute!”

Leviathan

Levi panics. Constantly.

Your smile? That sweet, open smile? It’s like a visual overload.

“You’re just smiling like that… at me? W-Why?! I don’t deserve—wait, you’re not making fun of me, right?! RIGHT?!”

He convinces himself you’re only like that because you’re nice, not because you actually like him. But when you laugh at one of his anime references or genuinely enjoy talking to him?

cue internal screaming

“They… like me? They really—oh my Devildom, I’m gonna die.”

He starts rehearsing conversations just to earn that smile again.

Satan

Satan notices right away—your constant smile, the way you brighten when you speak.

“You’re… unusually cheerful. It’s not forced, is it?”

He watches closely. He studies it like a rare book. But when he realizes it’s genuine—just you—he finds it endearing.

It becomes a quiet comfort to him. Even when he’s reading, he finds himself glancing over, looking for your smile.

“There it is again. That smile… I think I could get used to it.”

He sometimes tests how long he can hold eye contact before you break into a laugh.

Asmodeus

Asmo lives for your smile. It feeds his soul.

“Oh darling~ the way your eyes sparkle when you talk—are you sure you’re not part Cupid?”

He compliments you endlessly, not just for your beauty, but for the joy you radiate. He thrives off it, and tries to mirror it.

“You’re like sunshine in the Devildom~! Can I bottle your laugh? Or wear it as a perfume?”

If your smile ever falters, even once, he notices instantly—and does everything in his power to make it return.

Beelzebub

Beel finds your smile comforting. He feels like everything is okay when you’re near.

“You’re always smiling. It makes everything feel… lighter.”

He doesn’t say much, but he watches you with a soft gaze. He starts smiling more too—especially when you’re eating with him or cheering him on during workouts.

“I like your laugh. I want to hear it every day.”

If you ever smile at him while offering food? He’ll associate your kindness with home.

Belphegor

At first, Belphie’s suspicious.

“Why do you always smile? What’s the catch?”

But when he realizes it’s just you, no agenda… it actually soothes him. He’ll pretend to be annoyed, but the truth is your presence calms him in a way he didn’t know he needed.

“I dream about that smile sometimes. Weird, right?”

When you smile at him while he’s half-asleep, he quietly reaches for your hand and says:

“Don’t stop smiling. Even if I don’t say it… it makes things better.”

Solomon

Solomon notices your smile and instantly thinks, Ah. A light in the dark.

“You smile as if the world’s never wronged you. It’s… refreshing.”

He teases you a lot, trying to see how far he can push you before your smile turns into laughter. But occasionally, he looks at you with something deeper in his eyes—fondness, even sadness.

“Keep smiling, MC. Some of us need reminders of what hope looks like.”

And when he smiles back? It’s soft. Like he’s borrowing your joy.

Simeon

Simeon falls head over heels for your joy. You remind him of the Celestial Realm before the Fall.

“You carry light in you, MC. It’s rare… and beautiful.”

He returns every smile tenfold, always gentle, always sincere. He often pauses in conversation just to take in your expression.

“You smile with your soul. That’s something even angels struggle to do.”

He finds himself praying—not to protect you, but to thank whoever made someone like you exist.

Barbatos

Barbatos notices it instantly. He’s seen countless timelines, but yours? It’s unique.

“You smile as if nothing could go wrong… Fascinating.”

At first, he’s wary. A smile that constant must mean something. But the more he sees it, the more it affects even him, the ever-composed butler. You bring out warmth he’s forgotten.

“In all futures I’ve glimpsed, I never tire of your laughter.”

He makes you tea just to hear you hum happily.

Diavolo

Diavolo adores your smile. It’s like a sunbeam breaking through the shadows of centuries-old stone.

“MC! Your smile—it’s contagious! I should hire you as a morale booster!”

He always laughs with you, eager and genuine. He tries to crack jokes just to earn your giggles.

But privately, he cherishes how you never fake it—how your joy feels real, even in the darkest corners of the Devildom.

“I hope you’ll keep smiling like that when you’re queen of this realm.”

[yanderes-galore]

Can I ask for a romantic concept of Spider-Noir from the Spiderverse movies? :>

I had to go completely based scenes I saw since Fandom wiki is a wreck right now :')

Yandere! Spider-Noir HCs

(Or more accurately... me rambling about him with barely any focused plot.)

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Overprotective/Possessive behavior, Violence, Blood, Murder, Stalking, Invasion of privacy, Restraints, Secret picture taking, Kidnapping, Forced relationship.

Spider-Noir, or just Noir, is said to be a much darker version of Spiderman.

Both literally and metaphorically.

Noir's universe is during the 1930s, a world grisly and filled with people who use guns to kill.

Yet while Noir has seen bloodshed and occasionally killed himself, it's only in certain circumstances.

Like other Spiders, he tries to just injure... Not kill unless needed.

Something to note that I just found interesting is in the comics... Noir gets his powers from a Spider God?

Which... is certainly different from most Spiders.

I'd say Noir has decent Yandere potential, especially as a private investigator.

He's killed before and knows how to get information he wants.

Not only that but he has you typical Spider powers, meaning stalking?

Easy for him.

I feel like most Spiders Noir is a stalker as a yandere.

He's used to doing stakeouts and hiding out of sight.

He always has a camera and film on him.

He can stick to walls and get info on just about anyone.

You could simply be friends or even an assistant of his on his cases, doesn't matter.

He somehow is able to know more about you than you know about yourself.

He tries not to be malicious about such information.

He's a hero at heart, he just knows what he knows to protect you...

Because knowing how you look when you sleep is DEFINITELY for your protection....

Noir doesn't show much emotion or empathy.

To most he's cold or stoic, always focused on the next case.

Yet there's a certain softness he has around you.

The hero of the city certainly has his sweetheart, he just never outwardly expresses it.

No, instead he has a folder filled with photos of you and little notes.

Perhaps even copies of important documents.

He excuses it as a 'background check'... and not that he's obsessed over you.

Noir often thinks of you when doing cases, always solving murders and worrying about you in your home.

Such worries are usually what drive the hero to your home, peeping in to make sure no one is preparing to make you a new victim.

That's another reason Noir is hesitant to outwardly show his interest.

You could become a target to others so they can hurt him.

Everyone he adores is often targeted which has led to Noir being secretive.

He probably does crave love... He yearns to take you on a date, to be a gentleman to you...

But he fears for your life.

Such fears are ignored later on as his obsession grows.

He'll get impatient at some point.

Especially when he notices some other handsome guy takes interest.

For the most part, Noir is fine watching from afar with pictures.

Although, if you ever did get in trouble... Noir takes advantage of this.

He'll swoop in, cradling you against his chest as he pulls you away from a villain.

He wants to be your hero like any Spider....

So... He'll just keep his obsession in sight.

He'll claim keeping you at home will keep you safe, that he'll do whatever it takes to protect you.

He claims it's just for protection at first... Although you can tell he starts acting strange as time goes on.

Sure, maybe you can excuse it as paranoia... He's been through and goes through a lot....

But then you see him distrust friends, often interrogating them like they're a criminal for getting too close.

'Could be a spy'... 'They could be dangerous...'.

He just keeps getting overprotective... Perhaps even possessive once he admits he's... sweet on you.

Confessing is hard for him to do.

He struggles to tell you before eventually just forcing it out while he holds you close.

He loves you... he's loved you for a long time...

He'd rather die than allow anyone else to touch you.

Noir is a difficult yandere to get rid of.

He knows to keep out of sight and with his spider powers... If you ever did try to leave him he'd probably use webs to restrain you 'for your own good'.

I doubt you could even kill him.

Even if you took him off guard, it's shown in the comic that the spider god who gave him his powers would just revive him in a cocoon.

You'd think you got rid of him, finally free to leave your home.

No need for paranoia.

Only for him to appear behind you, webs restraining you as he whispers in your ear...

"Clever one, aren't you? Sorry, sweetheart... You aren't getting rid of me... Are you usually this mean to your lovers?"

Now, if we're talking about a fellow Spider Darling like in Spiderverse... Things are a bit different.

You're both used to playing hero so he doesn't entirely feel he needs to protect you as much than if you were a civilian in his world.

Your universe is no doubt more modern than his... So there's more comedic moments than his previous scenario.

For example, you trying to explain modern technology to him is fun.

Or the fact his world quite literally has no color... so he can't seem to comprehend it.

Compared to the previous scenario I said, this stays light-hearted at first.

He's curious about you and your world....

He can't pull documents about you here as easily, but he probably still does take secret pictures to take back to his universe.

You two would communicate the most at the Spider-Society.

All sorts of Spiders gather there so of course he'd meet you there.

Or maybe he accidentally teleports with you into Miles' universe, leading to you two being forced to get along and learn from each other.

Your bond as fellow Spiders starts as partners, just solving crimes and trying to get back home.

So it's less trying to protect you in this scenario... and more like he can't bear the idea of parting from you.

Sure, he enjoys his home, he feels comfortable in his universe.

But now you've piqued his interest... especially due to how well you work together.

If you two couldn't freely visit one another, Noir would be more desperate about not letting you go.

Yet if you can through the Spider-Society... Noir practically never leaves you alone.

Normally he would prefer to hide himself away in a good case, to focus on his universe.

Yet here he is, often trying to see you, perhaps asking for some time together.

Like a little... Spider date...?

Or... it doesn't have to be a date... Could just be... fighting crime together....

You trust him because you enjoy hanging out with him.

Yet you're completely unaware of him plotting ways to properly trap you with him so he can see you more often.

The second plotline is an idea of what could happen when you're a Spider and want to keep it close to Spider-verse...

But I do feel Noir works best in his own universe with a Darling who belongs there.

Doesn't create any anomalies.

So there's some basic behavior Noir could exhibit... Mostly stalking and stepping in when he has to.

If Noir kidnapped you he would always claim it's 'for your own good' like a protective yandere would.

A fear of his, like most Spiders, is losing the people he loves.

Which... happens to every Spider somehow as a Canon Event.

He denies the fact he kidnapped you, even with his webs around you.

He just... doesn't trust you alone...

It's like you're some misbehaving child.

He's always cold with what he says, treating it like it's just business.

Yet at the same time he'd pull your webbed body close to him, nuzzling into your neck to give himself comfort.

Sure, he'll have a few dates with you, mostly private ones with a few drinks and maybe a bit of intimacy if you're up for it....

He'd love to take you out for some fancy dinner... but he can't have you wander from his sight.

If you're a civilian it's because he feels you can't protect yourself.

If you're a Spider from another universe, he hides you to prevent suspicion.

You two may often get into arguments, but Noir usually drops them and quietly cuddles with you like nothing happened.

You want to go back to your normal life... not be hidden away by the private investigator you thought was your friend.

Things would've been better if he just kept quiet... if he was happy with just the pictures....

But no... You know things have become irreparable once Noir confesses he's shot people over you... or when he scares you by resurrecting to find you.

This isn't the Peter you knew....

This was a man consumed by paranoia and desire.

He knows it's wrong and he blames the world for corrupting him.

He's a murderer like the criminals he hunts....

Yet, let's be honest, it probably wasn't just his world...

All of this was preventable, he never had to shoot someone over you, or watch as their blood splatters across his coat...

With some restraint, things could've been normal between you...

Yet it was his choice to let his desires consume him... He CHOSE to be a monster just to get what he wants.

[karaswnee]

Harry Potter’s NSFW Alphabet

[ Headcanons ]

A – Aftercare:

Soft and attentive.

He’ll stroke your hair, kiss your forehead, and ask repeatedly if you’re okay—blushing the whole time.

B – Body Part:

Your back.

He loves running his fingers down your spine, watching you arch, and wrapping his arms around you from behind.

C – Cum:

Quiet and flushed.

He gasps your name, buries his face in your neck, and holds you like he’s afraid you’ll vanish.

D – Dirty Secret:

He’s had dreams about you in the Astronomy Tower—and woke up with a guilty conscience and sticky sheets.

E – Experience:

More than you’d expect, but still learning.

He’s not a player, but he’s intuitive, passionate, and eager to make you feel good.

F – Favorite Position:

Missionary with your legs wrapped around his waist.

He loves closeness, eye contact, and whispering your name.

G – Goofy:

A little, especially if he’s nervous.

If something awkward happens, he’ll laugh it off and get even more into it.

H – Hair:

Messy everywhere.

He doesn’t pay much attention down there—keeps it natural, but clean.

I – Intimacy:

Very important.

He needs to feel it—kisses, hand-holding, slow touches.

Emotion comes first, always.

J – Jack Off:

Often.

Quietly in the dorm, under the covers.

Usually thinking of you.

He gets flustered if he’s caught.

K – Kinks:

Praise, light dominance, wand play (in private).

He loves being told he’s doing well—and he’s curious about giving orders too.

L – Location:

Astronomy Tower, Room of Requirement, empty classrooms.

Somewhere private, where he can let go without fear.

M – Motivation:

Your smile.

The way you say his name.

A soft brush of your fingers.

He gets turned on by tenderness more than anything explicit.

N – No:

Anything cruel, degrading, or emotionally distant.

If it doesn’t feel real, he can’t stay in it.

O – Oral:

Giving: loves it. He’ll take his time, learn what you like, and be embarrassingly proud when you fall apart.

Receiving: blushes like mad, but loves every second—especially when you look up at him.

P – Pace:

Steady and passionate.

He starts slow, listens to your breathing, and speeds up only when you beg for it.

Q – Quickie:

If it’s safe, yes.

Between classes, in the library stacks, or behind a tapestry—he’s surprisingly bold when he wants you.

R – Risk:

Low to moderate.

He’s cautious, but the thrill of almost getting caught with you?

Irresistible.

S – Stamina:

Good.

He might not last forever, but he recovers quickly and always wants to make sure you finish first.

T – Toys:

Curious, but hasn’t used much.

He’d be open if you introduced something—especially if it involved trust.

U – Unfair:

He doesn’t tease much intentionally—but he does smirk when he knows you’re desperate, just long enough to drive you wild.

V – Volume:

Quiet groans, breathy gasps, and your name whispered like a spell.

He tries to keep it down, but when he loses control?

It’s beautiful.

W – Wild Card:

Once had a vivid fantasy about shagging you on a broom mid-flight—then got hard during Quidditch practice.

It was a problem.

X – X‑Ray:

Lean and scarred.

Quidditch toned.

A faint trail of hair, and a few marks you kiss without asking about.

Y – Yearning:

High, but not overwhelming.

He wants you, specifically—not just the act.

His desire is focused, loyal, and constant.

Z – Zzz:

Snoozes fast with his arms around you.

He sleeps best tangled up, heartbeat steady, one hand still on your hip like a promise.

[basedonconjecture]

WHY MY OC SUCKS: Selora de Riva

I was tagged by @seaglassmelody for this a million years ago now but I'm always excited to yap about Sel's terribleness >:3 & I've got a shiny list of people to tag so: @mythals-whore, @complikatedd, @rookinthecrownest, @dragonagegayz, @no1lucanispegger, @rooks-dagger, @operative-arrow, @casa-dei-corvei, @maagisterpavus, @gingervitus, @erin-unknown, @shadowed-rook, @dialmformud if you have not done this one yet <3

yapping about terrible horrible no-good selora under the cut o7

MANIPULATIVE: Selora often treats interactions with other people like a game of cards and, as a consummate cheat, that means she's often on the lookout for anything that gives her insight on the other person in a way that she can use. Tells, tics, things about their way of dressing or speaking, something said in passing she can use later, and so forth. People are a lot more obvious than they think they are. While it's a skill she honed through her work for the Crows, it initially developed in childhood as a means of anticipating/preventing potential danger and isn't always done consciously or with malicious intent when it is. A lot of the time, she actually uses it to figure out what someone expects of her so she can...be that. Give them what they expect and they never look deeper OR, alternatively, it's great at diffusing situations as well if she needs someone to trust her for x y z reason if she can figure out how to get around whatever the source of their distrust is. She's played Incompetent Crow™ and Viago's Pet™ and Proxy Hawke™ for Varric, even. The point is that she's always trying to control how other people perceive her because that keeps her safe.

SECRETIVE: Obviously, she carries a lot of secrets from her work, too, but it goes much deeper than that. Sel rarely offers anything about herself or life and, when she does, it's not usually in a straightforward way. Even if asked directly about something inconsequential (beverage preferences, for instance) she's more likely to couch it in something easily deniable than to say "yes, I like this thing." It's not always apparent in the moment and most people don't realize than when they're swapping stories or something that, while she's actively participating in the conversation, they're learning nothing about her in return. And it's by design. She's been obscuring who she is and where she comes from since the first day she stepped foot in Antiva—out of fear, then out of necessity—and she never learned how to open up to people in an honest or direct way properly. It can really inhibit how close she is with other people or how close she feels to even people she considers friends. Her first instinct is just to hide whatever it is and then decide whether or not it's safe to share it. Which! Can be really very frustrating for people who care about her! But she is trying to curb that when it's called out. DISHONEST: She's a lying liar who lieeeeeees... not all of the time, but a lot of the time. Her becoming a fledgling started with a lie and it set the tone for the rest of her life, tbh, because it was the sort of lie that you either have to keep adding lies to support it or tell the truth and since she couldn't tell the truth...well. Then, of course, other things needed to be lied about and, really, sometimes lies are just easier when you need to get around something with minimal friction. Every time she has to craft a new persona, it comes with a set of lies she has to maintain, too. Worse, she doesn't actually know how much of her "real" self remains intact after training she underwent as a fresh Crow locked a lot of her early memories and personality traits away. Everything after was carefully constructed and, while that fractured during the Antaam incident that earned her exile, it's impossible for her to know what's what a lot of the time. Lying is easy! Lying is easier than trying to parse wtf happened to you or what's real! The world is on fire and you need these people to trust you and not think you're some kind of freak so let's play pretend until we finish the job. Alas, alack. She does come to some understanding of herself during the course of Veilguard and decides that she actually likes that person, even if it started out as more lie than truth, but it will always be her instinct to hide and lie and obscure first, unfortch. Like, it's always going to take an extra effort for her to be honest, just little more conscious thought before she pops off with a lie first.

BONUS: She absolutely starts stupid arguments over ridiculous things and takes the opposite position of whoever takes the bait. It's like enrichment for her. Which would be toxic enough, except that she purposely will try to rile them up as much as she can before just walking away. It's extra fun for her if someone is really, really invested in proving her wrong. And I do mean over truly unserious things like pineapple on pizza or "is a hotdog a sandwich or a taco?" or "is a pop-tart technically ravioli" kind of things but also........honestly I wouldn't put it past her to also start a flat earth-style debate while taking the side of a flat earther just to watch someone combust. But it absolutely has to be things she's not invested in at all and does not actually matter that much. OTHER MINOR NEGATIVE TRAITS: competitive, stubborn, hyper-independent, irreverent, facetious, mercenary, reckless, and occasional provocateur

[slowdancingalien]

A/N: I wanted to post my ship dynamics with you guys and how what ships I enjoy the most! So here they are!

Don't send me death threats for my ships please

ᯓ✧ Drowley

I think in this relationship (def not with cas) Dean wants to be big spoon because he has an innate need to be more masculine.

I think Crowley is more inclined to borrow Dean's FBI outfits than wear anything plaid.

Obligatory Dean saying sweetheart but Crowley calls him love, darling, and honestly anything embarrassing like pookie pie, honey boo bear, snookums

They're both extroverts I think we can all see that

Dean isn't good with words. He never had been. Plus John probably made him think being all sappy was for pansies. So he's a gift giver. Crowley on the other hand is praise macgee over here.

Ofc this sad sack of shit confessed first, he's head over heels for Dean.

They don't care about killing bugs

I like to think that Crowley drove the impala once without Dean's permission and he was banned from it.

Since Crowley has much more money than Dean does, he's more inclined to let Crowley cook expensive meals for him. But he's not a bad cook!

These freaks are all over eachother

Fork found in kitchen they're protective

Deans a whore and has more experience definitely.

ᯓ★ Sastiel

Castiel likes holding his big boyfriend. Even though in reality he is the big boyfriend

The reason why I put Castiel as a clothes borrower is because I don't think he gives up the trench coat look. It's a comfort outfit for him. It started with him wearing it, and it ended it like that.

They both use petnames, but not often I think. Sam angel, honey, baby and Cas love.

Ofc the nerd and the socially awkward angel are introverts

Sam was raised the same way as Dean. But I think he learned that it was okay to be all sappy. So he does both. Meanwhile Cas also struggles with human romance, so he's bending over backwards for Sam

Sam confesses first because he's so worried that Cas won't confess/likes Dean. So he was all like "PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!!! PLEASE I LIKE YOU PLEASE!!!" and Cas was like "oh :) me too"

Castiel doesn't kill the bugs. And Sam agrees with that as it reminds him too much of when he was going THROUGH it.

Cas likes driving but Sam does it more often

Castiel doesn't eat. Enough said.

These freaks are also all over each other but more romantically than sexually.

"You are not taking Sam Winchester. I won't let you." SIGGGHHH

Cas has never had a relationship. Meanwhile Sam has had a whole lot more experience.

ᯓ★ Midam

If they were able to cuddle, I think Michael would take the lead in being a big spoon. And Adam feels safe in Michael's arms

They share clothes cause they're.. the same body.

Michael doesn't understand pet names, but enjoys when Adam calls him dear. (At first he thought Adam was calling him a deer)

They just wanna be left alone together

Michael has a hard time expressing how he feels. Even with Adam's extensive knowledge and his own combined. He shows his love through actions.

I think it is way cuter if Michael confessed first in the cage. How he fell for Adam. How he adores him, how he used his first act of free will to choose him over Dean.

I don't think Adam screams necessarily. Maybe more.. fearful gasp

Michael is too unbothered to drive. He lets Adam do that.

Michael doesn't eat.

They're both respectful of the public. But they don't mind holding hands (IF THEY'RE ABLE)

Adam doesn't need to worry abour Michael finding someone else. He knows he's set with Adam. Didn't even want Dean in the first place. He chose Adam. But Michael? He's so overprotective. Any bump in the night, he's taking over while Adam sleeps and protects him.

Michael has no idea what he's doing. Neither does Adam but at least he knows how relationships work.

Sigh Jody has the innate need to hold someone because she lost her family and wishes to one day hold them again.

Donna gives Jody her clothes for two reasons. 1. She looks drab and she needs to cheer up. 2. She likes seeing Jody in her clothes.

Donna is always making up silly nicknames for Jody all the time. Like "There's my little snickerdoodle!" And Jody's all like "Really?". Jody uses normal ones like Babe and Baby.

Donna is obviously more friendly and less serious and avoidant of people than Jody.

Donna is always praising Jody, talking about how cool her wife is, how awesome she looks, what a badass she is. Meanwhile Jody is pushing her off like "oh come on..". And Jody normally does things Donna doesn't wanna do cause she cares about her. Like clean the bathroom.

Donna confessed first, duh. But Jody didn't immediately say yes. She wanted to, of course. But she still wasn't over her husband yet. And Donna accepted that and waited until she was ready.

Donna hates bugs. Jody and Claire are the resident bug killers in the wayward sister house.

They switch with driving.

Same with cooking, but I think the kids favor Jody's cooking a bit more.

Donna is so hands on. She loves hugging and kissing and holding hands. Meanwhile Jody is just trying to be respectful to the public.

Jody is overprotective because of her past. Her family passing. It doesn't help.

They have the same amount of experience.

ᯓ✧ Samandy

(Or sams weed smoking girlfriend)

Look at Andy and tell me he isn't little spoon.

Andy wears oversized everything all the time. He had sweater paws in 2.21, so ofc he wants his ginormous boyfriend's clothes. He wants to drown in Sam.

Andy doesn't give pet names. Maybe on occasion, he'd use honey but that's it. It's more Sam who uses pet names like babe, baby, sweetie

Ever since Andy got his powers he felt like he could finally come out of his shell. And be the coolest guy in town. So yeah, he's totally an extrovert compared to Sam. Little nerd.

I don't wanna repeat myself. But Andy loves telling Sam that he loves him. Especially when he's all high and giggly.

Sam kinda knew Andy liked him when Andy "accidentally" showed him images of boys kissing. So he just waited until Andy got the balls to confess.

Andy isn't a bug person. Sam doesn't kill them, mainly takes them outside.

They both drive. Sam drives more often cause Andy gets too high.

Sam cooks more often, Andy loves his cooking.

These freaks. LMAO

I forgot to put a heart but Sam is very overprotective of Andy because of their powers and the shit they can get into because of it.

Sam is more experienced in relationships.

ᯓ★ Samcest

If you don't know, fraysexual is where you only experience sexual attraction.

Soulless Sam also has the innate need to be big spoon and more dominant.

They probably have the same wardrobe, doesn't matter.

Soulless Sam's petnames are probably more like "princess" and "sweet cheeks" while demon blood sam is like "honey, baby"

Demon blood sam is still an introvert cause he has his soul!! Soulless sam has no soul so he doesn't care. He's extroverted

Not repeating myself again. But soulless sams actions are sex. Most definitely.

Soulless Sam was NOT going to confess. He'd rather use demon blood Sam's body. And somehow demon blood Sam got manipulated into being in an open relationship.

Demon blood sam lets bugs outside with a cup. Soulless sam kills them.

Soulless sam is a dominant piece of shit. He wants control all of the time. Even when driving.

Soulless sam would rather have someone cook for him.

THIS FREAK. He probably tries to get Demon Blood Sam into public sex.

Demon blood Sam is overprotective because he's being manipulated most likely and doesn't wanna lose soulless Sam.

Soulless sam has even more experience cause hes a whore now.

ᯓ★ Destiel

Cas is a big spoon. It took a while for Dean to just.. deal with the fact that he's little spoon. But he loves it now.

Again I don't think Castiel borrows Dean's clothes cause of the comfort Jimmy's clothes brings him.

Sweetheart, baby, babe. Dean is all over that, murmuring it, yelling it, he loves calling Castiel by his petnames. Cas just deals with it. Cas' default petname is love to me.

Fork found in kitchen.

I mean, Dean gave Castiel a cassette tape. Hes a gift giver.

We all witnessed the confession scene.

Castiel doesn't kill bugs. Dean does. Cas doesn't like it.

On occasion, Cas is allowed to drive baby.

Castiel can't eat. Dean is a good cook.

Dean's a little more affectionate out in public than Cas is.

Of course, they're both protective of each other. Castiel basically being Deans guardian angel. Dean wants to keep his family safe.

Cas has no experience, Dean has all of it.

Tags:

[castellanapologist]

Happy Ending

Even before dating Luke, you had noticed how nice his back was. Shoulders big and broad with great arms to match, his waist tapering off nicely. You often found yourself staring at it either in bed (after leaving your claw marks) or as he was training. You had told him once he was your greatest distraction to which he seemingly found hilarious. He always puffed his chest a bit more while his smirk widened when he would catch you staring. Today though, you were staring for a different reason. 

He walked stiffly, not fully able to turn around to greet you. Luke’s shoulders were tense, his entire body language was screaming exhausted. When your hand had touched his back at breakfast, you found yourself feeling how hard his muscles felt. Luke hissed as you pressed down, confirming your suspicions. Luke needed a massage. Luckily for him, he had an amazing girlfriend who was more than willing to help. He didn’t need much convincing at all and you found yourself straddling his back while he laid shirtless on your bed not too long after. 

“How did you even get like this?” You asked as you pop open the cap to your lotion. He grumbles, turning his head to the side to peek over his shoulder. 

“Slept weird I think. Could barely roll out of bed.” He tries to shrug but hisses in pain. You hum in acknowledgement. 

“Let me know if it’s too cold” You murmur as you pump the lotion onto his back. He squirms a little but voices no complaints as the scent he always complimented filled his nose. Soon enough your hands start working the cream into his skin, feeling around for knots. You didn't have to search much; every inch of his back seemed rigid. As you started loosening the knots, Luke groaned into the pillow, his fingers gripping it tightly.

“Fuck it hurts.” He whines, shoving his face into the pillow so he wouldn’t be too loud. You huff a laugh as you use the heel of your palm along his shoulder.

“Just relax. You want me to stop?” You tease which causes him to shake his head quickly. 

“No! No please keep going baby.” He pleads, groaning louder as you loosen him up. Luke tries and fails to keep quiet, the pillow not quite muffling him as well as he hoped. And then, his groans began to change, a deeper sound that sent a shiver through you. You shush him as your hands work at the back of his neck next, thumbs pressing into his spine. His breathing is heavy, back lifting you with every deep breath.

Luke’s noises only grew more desperate as he begged you to keep going. It’s not like you wanted to stop either, his noises causing you to slowly grow wet. Unable to resist, you pressed harder, a hunger to hear more coiling in your gut. Luke's moan was an instant reward for your rough treatment. Leaning forward so you can really put pressure into it, you dig into a particularly stubborn knot. 

Luke’s hands grasp at the bed sheets so tight you briefly wonder if they’ll tear under his strength. His whines increase an octave with each grind of your knuckles into his back. You’re on the verge of easing the pressure when you notice a subtle shift of his hips rocking into the bed. A smirk tugs at your lips as you keep massaging, leaning down to whisper in his ear. 

“Feeling better?” You whisper in his ear, causing him to shiver. Shakily, he nods, unable to do anything but moan. Pressing a kiss to the back of his neck, your hands start to drift lower and lower to his waist band. Luke’s hips stutter, knowing he’s been caught. 

“Flip over for me honey.” You coo and he instantly obeys. You find yourself now straddling his lap as he stares up at you, hands gripping your hips so tight you think you’ll have bruises. Luke opens his mouth to say something but his head falls back against the pillows as you start to move against him. 

“Th-thank you baby fuck….” Luke whimpers, seemingly dazed from all the sensations. He attempts to grind up into you while simultaneously trying to shove his pants down much to your amusement. You raise your hips to help him, also working at your bottoms. 

“You’re supposed to be relaxing.” You tease again, but he doesn’t seem to be listening. His brown eyes locked onto your dripping cunt, mouth falling open as his dick twitches. 

“This is relaxing for me.” He tries to argue, voice sounding far away as he lines himself up. You keep hovering just out of reach to make him look at you. Neediness practically radiates off of him as you cup his cheek, thumb lightly rubbing at his scar. 

“Let me take care of you.” You murmur softly, to which he nods rapidly and relaxes into the pillow. Luke’s strong hands still grasp at your hips, but he seems content to let you take over. With a moan, you start to lower yourself onto his thick cock. Luke’s head is thrown back as he let out a loud groan, hips twitching as he tries not to fuck up into you.

Finally after what seems like forever, he bottoms out. Your thighs tremble as you take a deep breath and try not to fall on top of your boyfriend. Luke’s hands rub at your hips as you both gather your bearings. 

After a moment, you raise your hips up and slam down again, eliciting a string of curses from Luke’s lips. His hands guide you as you ride him slowly, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip to muffle his sounds. Your hand comes up to tug it free, wanting to hear him. Luke obeys and moans louder for you. His eyes alternate from squeezing shut to staring at how well you take him. You start to move faster, prompting Luke to fuck deeper into you. 

Fuck it felt so good, his tip nudging deeper with each thrust. Luke’s dark curls are plastered to his forehead already, chest heaving as he pants. Eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he chased the both of your highs. One of his hands reaches up to palm your tit, fingers pinching your hardened nipples. The other sliding to your clit, pressing down with his thumb. 

“Fuck I’m gonna cum” He warns, rubbing tight circles. You nod frantically, your whole body quivering as you get close. Your thighs burn with exertion but the need to cum overwhelms any thoughts left in your brain. The wave keeps building and building until finally you collapse onto Luke with a cry of his name as you cum.

He doesn’t seem to register what just happened, still chasing his high. His hands fall to your hips as he keeps abusing your pussy, tunnel visioned on his pleasure. Luke’s groans echo through the cabin as he finally falls over the edge, pumping you full of his cum. You both are still shaking as you come down, panting into each other's neck. 

“Feel better?” You ask breathlessly as his hands rub your back soothingly. You can feel the rumble of his laugh against his chest as he nods. 

“Definitely. Remind me to repay the favor.” Luke mumbles as he kisses your forehead.