#I feel like this concept works best if it is still the same drink every time tho. like it’s non alcoholic and not particularly weird

[sunnibits]

character concept: gruff middle aged man who’s always broodily sipping out of a flask, except there’s actually no alcohol in there it’s just a normal ass drink like milk or apple juice or something. he takes a deep dramatic swig before a fight with a heavy sigh but it’s literally just diet coke.

[irisintheafterglow]

hi!!! could i request pro hero!bakugo & pro hero!reader where bkgs doing an interview and they ask about relationships and his answer is “I thought you people already knew that im married”

i have no idea how to word things but i hope that was readable🙏🙏

keeping it in the family

wc: 1.6k

cw/tags: swearing, mentions of drinking and alcohol, established relationship, dialogue-driven

note: RAHHH I LOVE HUSBAND BAKUGO. anyways !!! i hope you like this, i did get a little carried away when writing it so hopefully it makes sense. thank you for your ask!!!

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

“And we’re on in five, four, three, two…give ‘em hell.” The roar of excited applause jumbles together with the late-night show’s opening theme and the screams of excited fans can still be heard even as Kirishima flashes a blinding smile to the camera. 

“Good evening, everyone, and welcome to Heroes on Heroes! We’re so glad you’re joining us tonight, seeing as this is the finale of season one!” The audience cheers with fiery passion and it makes the three heroes onstage chuckle nervously. This was going to be a long night, especially if the superfans were crying after every word they spoke. “I’m Red Riot,” he pauses while the cheering erupts once again, “and I’m joined by my fellow pros, Chargebolt and Dynamight.” You wince from your place at sidestage from the sheer wave of noise that slams into your eardrums when the latter is introduced. 

“Thanks for having us tonight, man,” Denki grins. He eagerly drums the armrests of his chair, to the left of Kirishima. “I’ve been looking forward to doing one of these since I saw Deku’s a few weeks back.” 

“It’s a great concept, really. I love being able to just chat with you guys and shoot the shit about hero stuff. It’s so manly.” Kirishima turns expectantly to the other hero sitting to his right, whose hot-headed nature was blatantly obvious by how he was slumped in his chair, squinting slightly at the burning spotlights and clicking cameras. You admire Kirishima’s confidence in forcing Katsuki to say something. “What about you, Bakugo? How’re you feeling tonight?” 

“I’m alright,” he shrugs indifferently. Your breath catches in your throat and you can hear the Dynamight agency’s publicist put his head in his hands. “It’s been a while, so it’s good to see you guys,” he adds with unexpected fondness and you exhale in relief. His eyes meet yours for half a second and he shoots you a wink that makes your knees wobbly. “I saw that save at the bridge collapse last week, Shitty Hair. Pretty decent work.” Kirishima blinks once, twice, and then glances at Denki. Katuski’s blank look narrows into a scowl. “The hell are you looking like that for? I got shit in my teeth or something?”

“No, no. Sorry, man,” Kirishima laughs. “I just wasn’t expecting a compliment from you so early in the show.”

“Yeah, we thought we’d have to booze you up a little more to get you to be nicer,” Denki jokes and he recoils a bit when he’s struck with a molten hot glare from the hero across from him. 

“Whatever you’re about to say, bro, don’t say it,” Kirishima warns and the crackles in Katsuki’s palms gradually dissipate. “But, I’m wondering too. What’s with the good mood?” 

“I guess I feel like playing nice tonight,” he answers cryptically, his gaze flicking over to you again with amusement. You can almost sense the fainting girls falling over each other in the front row. Kirishima’s attention subtly darts over to you and a knowing smirk grows over his face. It was the first time you and Katsuki were at the same press event, since you both thought it was too dangerous to sneak around until now. “But, talk about that bridge save. I don’t think a lot of people know that the guy was wanted by several agencies.”

“Ooh, yeah,” Denki agrees with a quick sip of his drink. He swallows and sets the glass down with a light thud. “He’d been giving us hell for weeks. It's not really the best matchup for a sand villain to be going up against an electric hero.”

“It was the sand villain and his wife, wasn’t it? That chick with the melting Quirk?”

“Yep, they were a nasty couple to deal with,” Kirishima confirms. “I had to keep track of this guy’s damn sand spikes and his wife turning the floor to goop at the same time.”

“Goop is a weird-ass way to put it,” Katsuki points out with obvious distaste. 

“Yeah, but he was a pretty goopy guy.” Chuckles ripple through the audience and you can’t help breaking a smile too at Kirishima’s joke. 

“I think for me, at least,” Denki adds, “the biggest pain was the fact that they were married, and they had, like, marriage telepathy or something.”

“Bro, I thought that was just me! Here I was, thinking that I’d incapacitated one and split them from the other, when bam! Both of them appear in front of me like a damn genie.” 

“You ever have to deal with villain couples, Bakubro?”

“Nah, not recently. We’ve been doing a lot of big raids on all the crime families downtown.” He flexes his right bicep and pulls back the sleeve of his shirt to show a gnarly purple spot growing on his skin. “Got this little beauty three days ago from a neo-Hassaikai asshole.” You're not fazed by the ugly shade of the wound because you were the one who stitched up the...less visible results of the raid.

“Jeez, man,” Denki says in disbelieving awe at his friend’s injury. “If you ever need backup, we’d love to do a team up with you.” 

“I think I’d rather die–”

“My agency would also love to team-up with you,” Kirishima interjects before Katsuki can finish his thought. The heart rate monitor of his publicist begins to rapidly beep behind you. “We can have a threeway team-up! That’d be pretty cool, don’t you guys think?” 

“What if we all just merged into one big super agency? Like a big family?”

“That sounds like the stupidest shit–” Again, Kirishima cuts off Katsuki’s brash protests and saves them from being taken off the air.

"That would be so awesome."

“Would that mean we’d have to get pro-hero partners, too? Keep hero work in the family?”

“I think Salonpas would have heart palpitations if we said we were trying to keep hero work within the family,” Katsuki points out and his friends nod in agreement. “On another fuckin’ note, that Half-and-Half idiot keeps hogging the number two spot and it pisses me off.” Though you didn’t often encounter Todoroki while you were on patrol, you knew that he was adamant about keeping work life and family life separate. It made him even more of a dedicated hero and a recent bust of a notorious crime ring bumped him into the number two spot over Dynamight for that month. You didn’t hear the end of it from Katsuki. 

“He and Deku just work really efficiently, Bakubro.”

“I can efficiently slam both their skulls into a–”

“You know what would solve that problem?” Denki butts in unceremoniously, covering up his harsh words for a third time. Katsuki grunts in response and the lightning-decorated hero gives him enthusiastic finger-guns. “Combining and making a family agency.”

“What are the chances that Sero would want to join too?”

“Probably pretty high,” Kirishima guesses. “He’s at my place every other week, anyway, so he’s basically my brother.”

“Alright, maybe this could actually work, then. I just need to find a smoking hot hero wife.”

“That’ll probably be the hardest part, buddy–”

“What about Bakugo?” You stiffen and the three guys turn their attention to a voice calling out from the audience. Speaking during the interviews was strictly prohibited until the question and answer section, but getting Katsuki’s attention was a surefire way to derail the entire episode.

“The fuck do you mean, what about Bakugo? Who the fuck said that?”

"Dude, just ignore them."

“Can’t be a family agency if Bakugo never gets into relationships,” the same nasally, irritating voice argues and your face feels like it’s been set on fire. Kirishima’s attention jumps to you for a moment and then back to his friend, whose palms are starting to spark like fireworks. “Do you just get no bitches, or something?” The audience gasps and security finally arrives to escort the disturbance out of the building. The director is ready to stop the cameras and jump to a commercial break, but Katsuki speaks before he can order the sound crew to cut the mics. To everyone’s surprise, his voice is nothing but amusement, like the insinuation didn’t bother him in the slightest. 

“You think I don’t get into relationships?”

“Bakugo…”

“It’s alright, Pikachu. I really don’t give a shit about whatever that guy said,” Katsuki reassures his friend with a sly glint in his eye. His friends watch him warily, like a grenade on the verge of exploding. Once again, burning red eyes meet yours with a single question that you answer with a resolute nod. “I’m not gonna blow up, so stop looking like that. Really, I don’t care.”

“Why not?” A tense beat of silence passes, then���

“I thought you people knew that I’m married.” A shit-eating grin spreads across your husband’s face as gasps of shock burst from the audience. Kirishima and Denki both shake their heads in exasperation. They knew already, of course, but they didn’t expect him to reveal his relationship status as a result of a heckler. “Yep, going on a year and a half, now. Around five years together total coming this winter.” More collective cries of jealousy, surprise, and betrayal shake the building’s foundation. "If you don't believe me, ask these guys."

"Yeah, we were at the wedding, too. It's hard to keep it a secret when all of your friends are also high-profile heroes."

“Can you guys believe that he fell in love during the winter?” Denki’s thumb juts out toward his friend, who frowns at the mere mention of cold weather.

“I fucking hate the winter,” he grumbles. 

“We know, man,” Kirishima says sympathetically, unsuccessfully hiding a chuckle. “You’ve been saying that since high school.”

“Yeah, and shit hasn’t changed,” Katsuki bites back with lighthearted indignance. “Look, they saved my ass when it was cold; how was I not supposed to fall in love with them?” To your delight, his complexion has turned a slightly darker shade of pink. “Yeah, I love them. What about it, asshats?”

“Is this a bad time to bring up the family agency again?”

“Let’s go to commercial before I blow this fucking chair to pieces.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[senseichaos]

Hey, same anon asking about yandere stuff. I'm so glad to hear!! Of course if you want to, may I please request yandere Vox with the reader? Like how they try to run from him? Perfectly fine with it being a female reader as I am one. And I don't mind how you write it. Do whatever you please! I love seeing others' interpretation of the characters 🖤 No rush!

YOU CAN'T RUN. HELL, YOU CAN'T HIDE EITHER.

thank you lovely anon! I love the concept of Yandere Vox! Hope this is good :) let me know your thoughts in another ask if you'd like! Lots of love!

Summary: Vox doesn't often fall in love often, no. Well that was until you came around- and you wanted a job with Valentino of all people? No. That would never fly with him. He'd make you work with him instead, like an intern or something? Hell, anything to make you stay near him. Anything to get him as close to you as possible.

Genres: Angst with a small amount of sexuality

NOT PROOF READ (yet)

Warnings/Tags: Yandere Vox, Insecurity, Reader is naive, manipulation, mind control, exploitation, creepy behavior, masking, contractual agreements, reader lacks hell experience, Vox is violent, Vox lacks empathy, angst, swearing, overall kinda depressing (LET ME KNOW IF MISSING ANY)

Pt 2

_______

You can't believe your eyes when you step into that tower, the pink glass adorning the outsides making your eyes shimmer. You have a job interview with Valentino today, after waiting for (probably too long) to get a job somewhere.

You see, hell worked slightly differently to earth. Where things in earth worked in a more of a 'work and make work' sort of way, Hell is more 'work, make work, and fight'

You'd managed for the past months to live in a small apartment that happened to be owned by someone who got killed in an extermination. It wasn't your plan to impersonate a sinner and squat in their home, but you have to get by somehow, right?

Well- it also wasn't your plan to be a porn star. But no where else seemed to want to take you. You're small, too weak to be taken by anyone else. People on the street told you that you were made for the screen, that your body was perfect. Some even tried to pay you copious amounts of cash just for you to suck them off. And you hate it.

At least the elevator of the building is cozy.

Vox on the other hand was having the best day of his life: or in his definition, a day where Valentino doesn't have a stupid breakdown that Vox doesn't have to solve.

He loves to watch his people as they indulge in his technology, he loves to watch everyone become obsessed with him and his media, he loves to be in control of all of these people. He'll watch every screen around him with focus, taking in their reactions as he bottle feeds them content.

Could he be with his boyfriend, Val? Yes. Does he want to? Hell no. He doesn't love Val. Plain and simple in his eyes. He has Valentino to get his business along. To make him more powerful. He'll do what he has to to be the most powerful he can be. Even if it means toying with people around him.

Val doesn't think he's capable of falling in love with anyone in this horrible underworld he inhabits. Everyone here is fucked. he is fucked. Plus, he doesn't know anyone here who he'd connect with anyway.

Or well that's what he did think until right now. There is a girl in the central elevator that looks awfully out of place, causing Vox to turn the entirety of his attention onto her. She looks like a regular old sinner, yes- but still she stands it like a sore thumb against the few people also in the central elevator. Where everyone's boring physique was her own enticing one stands. Where everyone else's two tone personalities stand her own colorful and bright one shimmer in his 2-D irises.

And then comes that odd feeling in his chest, this weird bubbling feeling of emotions that causes his eyes to tear up ever so slightly. This feeling, it's addicting. He wants to grind her up into a smoothie and drink her up, making the feeling sit there forever.

Something is wrong with him: he thinks.

With bated breath vox looked at the floor the elevator was approaching, figuring out where the girl is exactly going. There are only few reasons a sinner shows up at V tower anyway: to get a job with Valentino, or to turn yourself in if you'd wronged them. The elevator number reads '10'. She's going up to the business floor where Valentino currently is.

A sudden twist finds its way into his stomach, a horrible twist that makes his head burn with anger. Who does Val think he is? Having a girl such as her working for him. He. Couldn't let this happen, no no no no no no no. Why would he even want to exploit such a girl? She's supposed to be loves and cherished for everything she is.

The only reason she'd want to work with Val is because she has no other thing to do. He needs to offer her a job- or something to keep her from giving herself away to Valentino. Something to keep her as close to him as possible- like an intern or an assistant or anything.

Anything: Vox thinks.

Not often is Vox so reckless, not often at all. He likes to think he's decorum and well-adjusted. Likes to think he's a figure of this time. Of his time.

But right now, all he wants is this beautiful fucking girl to look at him in his eyes. Is it selfish? To want something so bad you feel like you could to horrible things to get it? Probably. But this is hell. And as an overlord of hell he can take what he wants. For once he doesn't care.

--- 666 ---

You take a step from the elevator, looking around the rather nauseating long and rounded hallway with squinted eyes. You can barely remember where you're supposed to be going anymore. You're supposed to meet Val inside one of these many, many studios. But soon enough as you start to venture through the halls on light, unsure steps you find yourself unable to read the words and numbers on each door.

Something is wrong, and you're unable to focus. There's this buzzing sound in your ears, a very faint but obvious buzzing that's causing your brain to go fuzzy. You can't feel your body anymore, it's just walking down the hallway in painful circles.

Suddenly that tether in your brain snaps with a loud crack, and your face to face with a television. You're still standing, in this long hallway, but now you're looking into the dark eyes of a TV screen. Wait- Eyes?

"Oh, Hello there sinner, are you looking for Valentino?" He asks, voice weirdly distant yet close all at the same time. His smile is large, almost devilish looking as he stares down at you.

You feel on edge, and your head still has a very faint buzzing lining itself.

"Oh, erm, Yeah.. I can't seem to recall what room-" You flinch as he hooks an arm around your neck walking you down the hallway once again with a smirk. There's a weird edge to him that you can't pin down, this whole interaction almost seems.. forced? Oh, there you go again, putting labels on things. Stop overthinking!

"Don't worry your pretty head about it! I'll take you to him," he says, unhooking his arm from your shoulder; only for him to rather sensually drag his hand across your shoulder blades until it's claws barely rest against your shoulder.

"But you know," Vox begins, swinging himself around so he stands in front of you, hands resting on either of your shoulders. You have to stop yourself from bumping into his chest. "You don't have to work for him." He says, his voice turning slightly more TV like and distant as he speaks.

"What do you mean..?" You ask, pushing his hand off of your shoulder with a painful twist of butterflies. A type of butterflies that you can't understand.

"Well, you seem like the type of gal to enjoy.." he looks you up and down, moving his hands from your shoulders as he grins. "Taking orders," you tilt your head at his words, confused. He shakes his head to himself, looking away for a moment with a slight frown before staring back, smiling brightly.

"No, I mean that you could be my assistant! You can.." He thinks for a moment, tapping the bottom of his screen as if it were his chin. He shrugs, smiling awkwardly with furrowed brows. "Bring me drinks and such! C'mon.."

He leans down to your level again, looking into your eyes. You suddenly feel that wave of disorientation go through you again, the only thing seeming to make sense to you being.. Vox.

"You don't want to be exploited by him, do you?" He says, and you feel his screen radiating heat on your skin. The buzzing becomes more loud as he goes on, all you seem to be able to hear being his words as they drip from his vile tongue. "C'mon dear, He'll break you."

"And you don't want to be broken, Right?"

He is right. You don't want to be broken by Valentino. You don't want to be exploited. But you don't have any other choice-

Until now, that is. You have an opportunity.

You should take it, right?

The headache and buzzing dissipate, taking a chunk of your psyche along with it. You feel your feet begin to give out beneath you from the exertion, lacking balance as you wobble softly. Not wanting to faceplant into the carpet, you reach out to something, anything to hold you. It just so happens to be Vox's chest, grasping onto the fabric of his coat as you begin to slip down to the floor.

"Hey, Hey, it's okay, What's got you out of sorts?" He asks, grasping you by your waist as he lifts you back to your feet. You blink, looking around for a moment with a nervous breath. Those butterflies, again. You hate them.

"I- uh.. I dunno.." You say stutter, pushing yourself away and scratching that back of your neck.

"You're feeling better?" Vox says, dipping his lids as he tilts his head rather attractively.

You nod, looking down at the ground with a nervousness inside of you.

"Good, good.." he turns away, looking at the ground and pacing for a short amount of time "good.." he says softly to himself, turning back around and clasping his hands together as he grins.

"Now how about you follow me and we can get you set up, yeah?" He says, pressing his hand against the space between your shoulder blades as he turns back to the elevator. You look up at him, and for a moment he seems to be in his own world. At least he is until you speak.

"So what's your name, Mister?" You ask, fiddling your fingers against each other nervously. He grins, lids upturning with the smile as well. He leans down again, poking a blue claw on your cheek as buzzing blurs your brain.

"It's Vox, my dear," He says, and your brain goes soft and mushy with an emotion you cannot describe. It feels as though he's making you melt.

"Keep that in your head for me, will you princess?" He asks softly, pulling his claw up the side of your face with a manic grin.

With a sudden movement he pulls away, shrugging his hands.

"Now darling, let's get back to it, shall we?"

Something is off, and part of you wants more of it.

--- 666 ---

Mister Vox's office is large in size, walls lined with screens displaying different things across the entirety of the pride ring. You wonder what Vox may do here all day, seeing the singular seat between it all that doesn't even seem that cozy.

You assume he watches, broadcasts, does meeting, and.. does what he's doing right now, perhaps?

"What do you do all day, Mister Vox?" You ask, looking wide-eyed at the television lined walls of the area. He flinches, grinning awkwardly before bringing back his confident demeanor.

"Me? Oh, you know.. this and that- I go to meetings.. I sign paperwork, I go to meetings.." He laughs to himself, shaking his hand dismissively as he sits in his seat, spreading his legs in a man spread. You turn away from the screens, looking over at Vox as he scans the monitors with narrowed eyes. You wonder if he was doing something important before he found you.

"Uh, Mister Vox, what do I do now..?" You ask, taking a small step towards him. He tilts his head towards you, smiling as he swings his chair to face you completely.

"oh, you? You can just sit there and look pretty.." Vox looks you up and down with narrowed eyes, face blank for a long moment before bringing a small smirk onto his face. He leans back in his chair, clicking his fingers as a bundle of clothing finds it's way into your hands.

"Perhaps prettier, change into that for me will you dearest?" He says, leaning his head on his fist as his voice becomes slightly more distant. You look at him, confused as you clutch the blue and red clothing to your chest.

"Okay.. Where do I change, Mister Vox?" You say, fiddling with the collar of your shirt as your body feels hot. Vox rolls his eyes playfully, pointing a clawed finger to the floor as he shifts his chair back to the screen. "Just change here my dear, no one will see you," He says, looking at you with a side glance. It's almost condescending, in a way.

"right here? But-"

"Here is fine, dear. Hell, here is more safe to change than anywhere else in this building," He laughs. You get this off feeling like you should trust him. I mean, he's one of the people owning this building anyway, right? He would be the one knowing a lot about it rather than anyone else. you should trust him.

"Okay Mister Vox."

You can't see his grin.

Every piece of clothing you peek off feels like this weird symbolism for losing yourself. Off comes your shirt: a piece is lost. Off comes your shorts: a piece of you is lost. And then more clothes come onto you, building something new. On comes a skirt: a piece of you is molded. On comes a blouse: a piece of you is molded.

And then there's this watch, a mobile one with 'Vox Tech' plastered across the side. With a shrug you put it on, struggling with getting it to tightness but ultimately managing to win the battle with the finicky strap.

"Good, good, how great you look!" He says, outstretching his hands with a grin.

You feel yourself blush, one half of you from his compliment and the other half from the fact he's looking completely in your direction. Does that mean he was watching you the whole time?

"Actually my dear, do you think you can grab me a coffee?" He asks, clicking his hands as a streak of blue energy shoots inside of the watch; this causes a mao to appear on the screen, showing where you are currently. "That map should tell you where to go, the assistant there should give you the coffee the way I like it,"

You shouldn't ask it, but you feel your bones ache too.

"How do you like it?"

He grins, tilting his head.

"Sweet with a strong flavour," He states, waving you off.

--- 666 ---

The first week as Vox's Assistant goes by smoothly, or as smoothly as it could working with an Overlord of hell. A rather odd seeming one at that.

Everything feels on edge with Vox, you feel like at any moment he could do something drastic. You've no idea what said drastic thing could be either, which makes it a whole lot more anxiety inducing. Hell, Vox is attractive. That's probably why you're on edge. That's what you keep telling yourself anyway. You're probably in love with him or something.

Vox had even given you housing as close to the building as possible, insisting he pay the rent. Not that you complain, no; less walking for you it seems. The Vox Tech watch he gave you tells you pretty much everything that you need to do. When you wake up in the morning it goes off, alerting you like an alarm, it has a to do list that blares when you're in the office, it maps out the whole space, it even acts as Vox's messaging system towards you.

You do wonder how he controls it, even in the comfort of your own home. Well, he is an overlord, right? He's capable of things even outside of your grasp. You cannot even fathom what he could do with that power.

And that's just the way Vox likes it.

Actually, you haven't seen Valentino around the building the whole week either. Even in a meeting you accompanied Vox to. You'd expect to see him more often with all the prowling in and out of the building you do.

It's as if he's vanished.

"Princess, grab me a coffee will you? Maybe even grab one for yourself while you're at it, on the house," Vox asks, swiveling on his chair to face your own, which sits just off to the side of his own with a small desk in front of it. You'd been doing some paperwork for him for the past hour, mostly reading through stuff, asking him questions, and singing them for him.

"Yeah, sure.. um, I was just wondering.." You utter softly, causing Vox to raise a brow as he leans back on his chair with a confident grin. He tilts his head in question, saying: "What's on your mind, (N/N)?"

"I haven't seen Valentino around the building, I was just wondering if something's up with him?" You ask, looking down at the ground as you begin to regret yourself even questioning. Vox laughs, flapping his hand in dismissal.

"Oh, just that? Don't worry about it! He's just.." Vox pauses for a moment, shrugging his shoulders. "Doing his own thing," He finishes, smiling rather oddly as he begins moving his chair back to face his computers. You intercept.

"His own thing..?"

Vox turns back to you, grinning widely with a manic look in his 2-D eyes. Once again, the buzzing fills your brain. And you fall to your knees against the ground with a painful 'thump'. Vox harshly grips your chin, pulling you closer to him until all you can see is that blaring red eye of his as he speaks.

"As i said,"

You feel yourself wanting to let go.

"Don't worry about it."

He lets you go of your trance, leaving you teary eyed as he smiles softly, brows furrowing in a sort of mocking empathetic way. His eyes drip with affection you find.

"Now, grab that coffee, okay?" He finishes, placing a cold kiss against your forehead before letting go of your chin, leaving yourself to gather your bearings.

It's not often you feel the want to defy someone. But as you stand from the floor, dusting off your skirt and walking to the elevator; you feel that need to be defiant. You'd figure out where Valentino is. He has to be somewhere in the building, right? You just have to find.. him..

In these hundreds and hundreds of doors. You would have to find him. And you can't take so long, otherwise Vox may suspect something.

You'd find someone to tell you where he is, you'd find him, and you'd stop worrying if Vox is going to do something drastic because he hasn't lied to you. Simple as that, simple as that. Right?

As it just so happens, as you begin walking through the studio halls you find yourself bumping into a spider individual, of whom you remember being a popular porn star.

So with an anxious breath you asked him. He explained that Valentino was in studio B-40, but he doesn't recommend finding him. And once again you go against someone's wishes. Plus, you were just going to stick your head in the door. It's nothing to worry about.

So what are you so anxious when you find yourself getting closer to the door? Why does your throat feel so tight? Why do you want to run in the other direction? Why does every step feel so heavy?

Taking another small step to the door, you wonder if you should listen to your conscious. It's supposed to do you good , right?

No, that's baby talk.

You aren't weak. You aren't letting the people in hell get you down! You are going to open the door!

You push yourhand towards the door handle and-

"Ouch! Fuck-" You yelp, an electric shock going through your body, causing you to fall backwards onto the hard floor below. Your whole body is on fire, you can't feel your tongue. You can't feel your brain.

A hum accompanies Vox's words.

"You're not going in there." He says, leaning over you as you push yourself to your knees, pressing yourself to the wall. Your head is throbbing.

"I'll beat him to a pulp if he sees you, you know?" Vox laughs, that sickening pseudo-empathetic look covering his flat features. You feel your stomach twist, this time in an awful way, it's like he's draining you of your soul. You want to disappear.

"I don't want to be aggressive," Vox begins as he grips your face harshly, causing tears to well into your eyes. "But your fucking mine, you got that?"

"And I won't let that sleazy prick get his greedy eyes anywhere near you!"

"W-what?" You whimper, pushing his hands from his face and backing away meekly. Vox laughs to himself, red dripping from his two dimensional mouth. He humors you with that gaze of his, eating alive any part of your confidence that may still linger.

"Oh, don't you get it, my dear? You sighed the paperwork," Vox leans down so his eyes can bore into your own, his gums showing in that prideful smile of his. "You belong to me now."

You choke on air, standing to your wobbly feet.

"W-what? I don't un-"

The paperwork. The paperwork you signed to get the job. You didn't read it! You idiot. You fucking idiot! You've ruined your own life. You belong to him..

To Vox.

"You- Shit-!" You turn around on your heels, almost slipping as you speed off into the hallway. You hear his voice echo in your ears.

"You can't run. Hell, you can't hide either!"

This was a mistake, this whole thing was a mistake. You want to die. You want to disappear. You want to get as far away from him as possible. You don't even take the elevator down, you run down every single flight of stairs jumping down a couple to save time.

The slip beneath your feet almost makes you topple over as you clutch onto the railing, swinging yourself onto the next flight of stairs. You have to be close to the bottom, right. Right? Yeah. This is fine.

And you were, right, surprisingly. You can almost see the entrance outside. You just have to make it out of this lobby. You just have to make it out of this huge fucking stupid ass lobby! You have to.

All of the sinner's eyes bore at you as you run at top speed to the door. You can't be here. You need to leave immediately. He can't find you If you're far away, right? Just go somewhere without a camera.. it'll be fine.. everything will be fine.

You're so close! Just a few more steps, a few more heavy, headache inducing steps.

You can make it. You just have to believe in yourself, and it'll all work out. Everything will be fine. It just has to be. Hell can't be this cruel, can it?

You're so close to the door you can smell the outside world, hear the cars as they pass, hear the charter hear the-

You choke and fall.onto the ground, a heaviness around your neck and wrists. It buzzes against your skin, making you go light headed. You can barely see it, but it's there. There are handcuffs around your wrists. And a collar around your neck. All of which glowing and buzzing with that electric blue of Vox.

He is right.

You can't run, you can't hide, you can't do anything.

He owns you, he has you. You can't do anything.

You made a mistake.

Maybe hell really is this cruel.

Keeping you forever tethered to this man.

Who knew one mistake would ruin the rest of your eternity.

Serves you right for being so naive.

"Alright now, are we done with our tantrum?" Vox asks.

"Yes mister Vox." You say.

[separatetheyolk]

Like Real People Do | Lewis Hamilton X Male!Reader

ʚɞ Featuring: Lewis Hamilton

ʚɞ absolutely no one asked for this but I give you Lewis Hamilton aftercare

ʚɞ warnings: 18+, mentions of smut but nothing overly explicit mainly just in passing

ʚɞ note: this is a long one. I’ve got a one for Charles finished (though I’m not sure if I like it so may scrap and restart) and Carlos in the works. As with all my male!reader posts this can be read as trans!reader too. Trans masc too but there is he/him, boy and boyfriend used to refer to the reader in this. I’ve read this like ten times but there may still be some mistakes and shit so sorry in advance

ʚɞ wordcount: 3.6k

ʚɞ requests are open!

You trembled on the bed, curled up on your side ever so slightly, twitching and jerking every so often as you came down from your fifth high that night, your brain turned practically to mush, gripping to the pillow set under your head.

You let out a weak cry as Lewis ran his thumb over your abused nipple. Causing the man to pause. Pulling himself away from the session for a moment he checked you over. Studying your body. You looked spent. Utterly spent. Chest heaving for air, tear tracks down your cheeks. Face flushed red and that neck.. that poor, abused neck. “Colour, baby.” He asked softly, moving his hand down from your chest to your hip. Rubbing small circles on the bone in a comforting manner.

You couldn’t form words, your brain couldn’t make the connection to your tongue to work. To your mouth for your lips to move. Instead, you let out a whine. High pitched and exhausted, shaking your head quickly. Lewis took that as you wanted to end the session, nodding softly.

You felt the bed shift beside you, opening your eyes for your gaze to meet your boyfriends. Instinctively you moved to him the best you could with weak legs and trembling arms. Lewis helping you the rest of the way. “You done so well, baby..” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. The praise caused you to melt slightly. Letting out a small noise of adoration. “You done so good for me.. so proud of you..”

“I love you so much.. took it all so well..” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head again. You didn’t know how long you spent like that. Your concept of time blurred. But eventually Lewis started to pull away. All too soon in your opinion.

You let out a whimper, moving to grab ahold of him a little more. Hearing a deep chuckle from the man. “Oh I know..” he whispered. “I know you want cuddles. But I gotta get you cleaned up, sugar.” He slipped from the bed, crouching down on the floor beside it so he could see your face again. Taking in every small imperfection on it. Drinking you up like he couldn’t get enough. Like he hadn’t just fucked you for two hours. “Could you be a good boy? Wait here for me?” He asked, tucking some hair behind your ear. “Hmm?”

You could be a good boy.. you wanted to be a good boy. You craved the praise that came with it. Craved that love and affection. Nodding quickly, you watched as Lewis smiled. Pressing a kiss to your temple as he stood. “There’s my boy. You just stay here.. I’ll take care of you..”

You watched as Lewis left the room to the ensuite. Stomach sinking slightly but you done as instructed and stayed put. Grabbing the blankets and pulling them to your shoulders. Not caring that they were dirty. And judging by the water running, you had a feeling it didn’t matter regardless.

Lewis ran his hand under the tap, making sure the water to the bath was warming up. Realistically, he knew it wasn’t the cleanest option. But he had a feeling you wouldn’t be able to stand long enough for a shower. And he wouldn’t be able to carry and wash you at the same time. So a shared bath it was. At this point, he had aftercare on lock. Lighting a few candles he knew you liked, adding some muscle relaxer into the water along with some bubble bath and a lavender bath bomb. Once the tub had filled, he made his way back to you. Stopping at the doorway and lent against the wood, just taking in the sight of you.

Taking in the sight of you curled up on the, admittedly, ridiculously large bed. One leg poked out from under the duvet, hugging one of Lewis’ pillows, face pressed into your own, hair ruffled and messed up. Swallowed by sheets. He almost didn’t want to move you, but he wasn’t exactly keen on sleeping in those sheets tonight.

So, reluctantly, he moved to the bed, hand coming to rest on your upper arm and began to stroke up and down it gently. His hand was rough against your skin. Something you’d always loved. “Baby?” His voice came out almost as a whisper, smiling wide when you opened your eyes. Your own face up lit when you’d realised he was back. “Hey.. hey, sugar. Ready for your bath?”

You nodded slowly, arms held out to the man. And Lewis didn’t need to be told twice. He picked you up with a groan, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you to the bathroom. Sitting on the edge of the tub he double checked the temperature of the water. Pouring some onto your thigh. “How’s that, baby?” He asked, feeling you nod against his shoulder.

He then carefully lowered you into the tub, mindful of your bruised ass. You let out a small whine as it hit the bottom, Lewis whispering quiet “I know..” to you. Once you were situated, he lowered himself into the bath behind you. Leaning back and whispered a quiet “C’mere baby..” allowing you to lean into his chest, rubbing up and down your sides gently. He didn’t immediately move to wash you. Instead he let the two of you soak in the water first. Pressing kisses to your shoulder and the darkening hickeys on your neck and behind your ear like they’d sooth them some. All while keeping his hand moving up and down against your skin. “I got you..” he whispered, rubbing your side gently. “Right here baby..”

You whined quietly, trying to spin round to face him. Beginning to grow upset that you couldn’t. Past that point of exhaustion and now to where any minor inconvenience was enough to upset you. Lewis smiled softly, tucking your legs into your chest and carefully spun you round, letting you go wherever you wanted which you decided would be to straddle his lap, arms wrapped around him. Legs tight around Lewis’ waist. Face pressed to his neck.

Lewis wrapped his arms gently around your waist, loose but enough to let you know he wasn’t leaving. He slid down in the water a little more. Still making sure your head was above it but more of the warmth wrapped your body. The lavender bath bomb began to have its desired effect after about half an hour, drowsy and oh so tired. Just ready to curl up into Lewis’ side wrapped in warm blankets and comfy clothes.

You let out a whine of “Lew..” when he sat up again. The man looking down to you with a smile. “Well, welcome back baby..” he kept one arm wrapped around you a little tighter, the other squeezing body wash onto a loofa that was floating around in the water. “You’re okay.. I got you..” he reassured.

He felt you remove your head from his shoulder, looking around the room to grasp your surroundings. You had a vague idea of what had happened during the time Lewis had been taking care of you. More veiled behind fog than anything. Like the moment Lewis lay down your brain switched off in a completely different way. “You just relax, baby.. just gonna wash you then you can curl up in bed again.” Lewis spoke, keeping his eyes fixed to you. Studying you, making sure your mood wasn’t about to plummet. “Okay? You doing okay?”

You looked to the man for a moment like he was speaking in tongues. Either way, you’d have let him. Whether you understood his self appointed mission or not. You’d trust this man with your life.. this didn’t work without trust. Sex, aftercare, your relationship as a whole. You nodded slowly once you’d managed to grasp what had been said, nuzzling back into his neck.

Lewis wasn’t sure whether that nod was in response to him washing you, if you were feeling okay, or both. Sighing softly. “Darling, can I?” He asked, removing your face from his neck and held the loofa in view. Again, another nod.

He’d started with your back first, then your sides, chest, legs, then used a separate cloth for your armpits and afterwards he rinsed you down. Humming softly as he done so, hand rubbing circles onto the small of your back. He then began to wash himself. Lewis then made quick work of getting out and drying himself, turning back to the bath when finished towel wrapped around his waist. Eh.. you could stay in there while he changed the bedding.

He slipped on some clean boxers and comfy joggers before he got to work. Stripping any and all bedding, throwing it into the corner of the room, rummaging through drawers to find a particular set he knew you liked. Extremely soft to the touch and likely the better choice for not only your bruised arse, but his clawed up back. Finding it with a little bit of trouble. He threw on the fitted sheet, changed the pillow cases, stripped the duvet of its cover and replaced it with the clean one. Picked up any used or unopened condoms, threw them in the bin, set the lube away in his middle drawer and decided that would do for the night. He could do a deeper clean in the morning if you weren’t as dependant on him then.

He rushed downstairs before getting you out the bath, grabbing a protein bar from the cupboard for himself, favourite snack for you, and two bottles of water from the fridge. Setting them down on his bedside table for the time being.

Last but not least, he moved back to the bathroom with some clean underwear, fresh towel and a few of his own shirts in hand. Hanging them up on the hook on the door, Lewis then moved over to pull the plug for the bath, stealing a kiss as he stood back up. He cleared a section of the counter then carefully picked you up from the bath. Not caring about water dripping onto his joggers. He set you onto the cool marble, dried you off and let you pick out which shirt. Then helped you get changed into it along with the clean boxers. “Handsome man..” Lewis murmured when done, kissing your temple before picking you up for the last time tonight.

He carried you back through to the bedroom after letting you blow out the candles, pulled your side of the blankets back with one hand and then propped up your pillows slightly. Setting you down onto the mattress and tucked you in. You watched as Lewis moved to his own side of the bed, slipping between the sheets and wrapped an arm around you. Grabbing one of the bottles of water. “Come here, baby.” He muttered, holding the plastic to your lips. “Drink some of this for me.. there we go.” He smiled softly as you tipped your head back. Lewis tipping the bottle to follow your lead. Making sure not to drown you or waterboard you. That would be far from ideal. Once about half the water was gone, you shook your head, wrapping arms around Lewis and set your head on his chest. With a smile, Lewis shuffled further down into bed, holding you to his side.

Food and your little chat could wait until morning too..

The next morning or well afternoon when you woke up, your entire body was stiff. Whining quietly from the slight pain as you stretched. You turned to the door when you heard shuffling making it’s way up the stairs only now realising the lack of Lewis’ presence beside you. Smiling when the man came round the corner and into the room holding a tray. Seemed to have some form of food and a glass of orange juice on it.

“Hey..” He spoke softly, spotting you half awake. Lewis set the food to the end of the bed for the time being, slipping back to his side of the bed again. “Was gonna come wake you up..”

“Wha’ times it?” You mumbled closely followed by a yawn, rubbing your eyes. “M’ sleepy still..”

“Well that’s probably because you overslept gorgeous..” Lewis replied, turning round to his bedside table briefly to grab his phone. “It’s..” he glanced up briefly as Roscoe made his way into the bedroom, clearly not happy that he hadn’t had access to it at all the night before. He then turned back to his phone, pressing the power button. “Half two.”

“Damn..” you’d slept that long? You weren’t entirely sure what time you’d ended up actually going to bed last night but it couldn’t have been any later than three in the morning. You’d slept eleven hours? “What time did you get up?”

“Around twelve.. had some zoom meetings at one. Something about the car next season I can’t really remember.” Lewis shook his head, leaning forward to grab the tray. “Come on, sit up and get this down you.” He rose the tray ever so slightly.

Reluctantly you done just that. Torso leaving the warmth of the blankets, groaning as you pushed yourself up and whining when your ass bore the weight. “What is it? What’s wrong?” Lewis asked almost immediately, concern rising in his throat.

“M’ just a little stiff n’ my ass is sore..” you told him, shaking your head. “Just the norm..”

Lewis frowned at that, nodding slowly and carefully set the tray on your lap. Not a whole lot of food but just the right amount that you’d eat after just waking up. “You start eating, I’ll grab some painkillers for you.” Lewis spoke softly.

You watched the man turn to head to the ensuite, pausing when you spotted the state you’d left his back in. Usually? You found it hot. Something you both liked.. but this looked like he’d gotten into a fight with a tiger and came out the other end mauled. “Your back..” you practically whimpered. Lewis immediately turned back around, wanting to kick himself for not even thinking about that.

“Nono- no hey..” he rushed back over, moving to sit beside you. “I can’t even feel it, baby.. forgot they were even there.” He quickly took your hands, shaking his head. “No- hey don’t cry..” he squeezed them gently, giving you a reassuring smile. “If it hurt i would have said for you to stop..” he heard something along the lines of “but they’ve been bleeding..” causing him to sigh softly.

“They did, yes. But really not that much..” he watched your face, studying how it dropped, kept your eyes fixed to the food in your lap but that interest in eating no longer there. “Hey.. how about this..” you looked up to him ever so slightly, the man peaking your interest. “You eat your food, have a some painkillers and if you really want to, you can give them a clean.”

You thought about it for a moment, turning your eyes back to the food. “I..” You sighed softly, knowing for a fact he wouldn’t take any other compromise. You loved Lewis.. but sometimes that habit of not putting himself first annoyed you to no end. “Okay..”

With a smile, Lewis stood again. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head before turning to head to the bathroom once again. Coming back with two ibuprofen both snapped in half. “Hand out baby.” He spoke, sitting down on the bed beside you and dropped them into your palm when you’d done as instructed. Throwing them into your mouth and quickly swallowing them down with the juice. Shuddering once you’d managed to successfully get them down.

“That’s it.. you finish eating I’ll clean up a little.” Lewis spoke, soft smile on his face. He grabbed a shirt from the wardrobe to not upset you any further. Just an old one, print practically gone the only remnants being a shiny patch on the cotton fabric where it used to be. What used to be black now washed out to a light grey.

You heard him hum softly, the sound of a washing machine door opening and closing, then the same for the dryer. You heard the beep of it starting up, Lewis coming up thirty seconds later with some pillows and duvet from the spare room. He carefully switched the pillows over with the ones on the bed, being sure not to strain you too much knowing your muscles were sore and then swapped the duvet round, taking them both downstairs. Rustling came from the laundry room of which you assumed was him stripping the covers from the bedding followed by two doors opening and closing, a curse, sound of a tap running so clearly Lewis had spilled liquid detergent and finally the sound of the doors closing and two beeps signalling the two machines had started washing their loads.

After that, it was mainly just standard day to day sounds. Like washing dishes, the odd clatter, sound of the vacuum. After about half an hour Lewis came back up to an empty plate. Instead of taking it downstairs like you thought he would, he simply set it on the table in the corner, nipped into the bathroom and came out with a damp clean cloth. “You really don’t have to if you don’t want to, babe.” He spoke, moving to sit beside you and wrapped an arm around your waist. Pulling you into his side.

“I know..” you muttered, resting your head onto his shoulder and held your hand out for the cloth which he reluctantly handed over. “But I want to.. I caused it, I want to help make it better.” You heard the other chuckle, looking up to him confused.

“I mean, I’d argue that I was the one to cause it. You don’t exactly go around clawing at my back like it’s a norm.” He smirked, looking down to you briefly before pulling his arm away. He pulled the shirt off with one swift motion and then pulled the duvet back, moved to lie down between your legs and hugged your thigh. “But I do like when you do it..”

You smiled softly as the man got comfortable. It wasn’t a regular occurrence for Lewis to be searching comfort from you. Usually you were on the receiving end. Or you’d have to reach out and offer that comfort. You didn’t mind reaching out at all but often you found yourself wishing he’d do it a bit more. You wanted him to know he could come and ask. You were sure he did. You just didn’t know why he didn’t. “Is there anything you didn’t like?”

The question snapped you from your thoughts, looking down to him for a moment before beginning to gently clean the scratches covering his back. “Uhm.. not that I can think of?” You spoke, sounding in thought as you tried to recall anything. “That break after the third was a little short, not enough for me to be like ‘woah no stop’ just more ‘fucking hell already?’ If you get me? Like I was still okay to do it was just a little tired kinda thing.”

You felt Lewis nod against your leg, kiss being pressed to your thigh. “I’ll remember that for next time.. anything you wanted to ask? Anything you want to try?” You felt the man relax against your leg the more you ran the cloth against his back, a small sigh escaping past his lips which caused you to smile ever so slightly.

“I can’t.. think of anything? But if anything comes up I’ll let you know.” The room fell into a comfortable silence for a moment. Neither of you feeling any need to break it as you continued to clean the others back. Eventually, you did speak up after realising you hadn’t asked how Lewis was doing. “What about you? Did you like it? Anything you didn’t? How are you holding up?”

“Me? Oh I’m feelin’ fine babe. Little sore like you but that’s normal. I can’t think of anything that I didn’t like. A few things I’d want to try but I’d like to wait for you to come to me and bring them up.” Lewis didn’t want to pressure you.. he knew that seemed to be a reoccurring theme with other couples. Dom mentions something they want to try, sub agrees purely for the fact it’s their dom without even considering if it was something they’d want. He knew you could stand up, tell him what you wanted, when you wanted to stop. You’d demonstrated that last night. But it was still a fear none the less.

“Alright well.. you can bring it up. ‘M all ears.” You spoke. To some, it may have come up as trying to pressure him. To Lewis? He knew it was simply some reassurance before you’d both drop the subject. Again, the room fell silent. Roscoes snores and the muffled sounds of birds filling the room. Eventually, his back was cleaned. “Alright.. baby you’re gonna have to scooch. Need the bathroom.”

Lewis reluctantly sat up from inbetween your legs, rubbing his face with a yawn. “You need a hand getting there or no?”

“Nah.. I think I got it.” The trip there was slow, you had a slight waddle in your walk. But you did eventually make it. Turning the light on as Lewis got comfortable on the bed. Turning the TV on. Not even five seconds later there was a shout.

“Lewis!” He turned his head to the door, smirk already plastered on his face. Just knowing you’d saw the absolute state of your neck. Then, your head popped from the room. “I’ve got work tomorrow!”

ʚɞ I actually really liked how this turned out?? I was originally going to post Lewis, Charles and Carlos together but I got like 2k words in for Lewis and thought “who tf is going to read like 6k words of just aftercare”.

ʚɞ Not to mention I was struggling to find a way for it to not be repetitive? There’s only so many times I can x, y, z gave reader a bath in one post before it gets a little boring. So I decided to leave them as separate posts and if people want to go back and read the others they can 🤷‍♂️

ʚɞ Honestly no idea when the next of this little mini series will be up. My social battery is six feet under and I’m so goddamn tired lol so give me like a few days see where I’m at

ʚɞ As for requests, I know there was some interest for a one someone left a few days ago, I’ll get to that asap I was planning this one out when the request came through so I decided to finish this one first instead of immediately working on the request so I didn’t forget about it (this took so long to write omg usually I’m able to bash like three posts out in one sitting but this took days 😭)

ʚɞ Anyway I have a strong headcannon that Lewis would call you ‘sugar’ and I don’t know why because whenever I think of that I think of it being said in a southern accent by some guy who works on a ranch not a British guy who drives cars around a track for a living so 🤷‍♂️

ʚɞ This entire post is long enough as it is so I’ll leave it here. Bye now 👋🏻

[icallhimjoey]

Here’s an idea: You’re out with Joe, and a couple of buddies. Joe’s immersed in a conversation but absentmindedly playing with your fingers. You notice. Maybe think of other soft shit he does unconsciously. Pure softness.

just... i know who you are, and you need to fuck all the way off, because how DARE you Wordcount: 2.2K

---

Love Languages

The best chats always happen at night. 

“Hey... hey Joe,” 

In bed, in the dark.

“Hmm?” 

When you’ve just laid down and turned the lights off and you’ve already kissed and said good night. When you’re meant to get comfortable, close your eyes and fall asleep. When there’s an alarm already set and when you’re not meant to be chatting. 

But you lead busy lives. 

These moments in bed are the most silent, undisturbed, and private moments you’ve got. When you’re alone, phones face down on bedside tables, and there’s no media to distract you from each other, darkness only fuelling the honesty.  

“Joe,” 

“Mmhmm,” 

You don’t fall into conversation every night. But when you do, they’re the best chats.  

“What do you think your love language is? Or mine?”  

Joe groans softly and rolls onto his back, eyes still closed, and he takes a moment to think as he inhales deeply. 

You’re on your stomach, facing him, both arms folded close to your body, hands underneath your pillow, and not tired at all. 

“It’s um...” Joe rubs a hand across his forehead, and for a short moment you think you’re annoying him. That he just wants to sleep and wants to be left alone. But then he says, “Yours is taking ugly pictures of me.”  

You immediately giggle, hiding your face into your pillow.  

“Ones where my hair looks fucking awful, and you’re not,” Joe stops to sigh, pretends to be all annoyed, then continues, “You’re not even taking ‘em, you’re finding them online and then save them onto your phone, I think that’s,” Joe breaks, can’t help but laugh himself now too. 

“Stop,” you try, grinning as you roll onto your side. “That’s not what I mean.”  

“No, I know, but I think that should be one of them. Because that’s definitely yours.” 

“No, but I mean from the–” you are about to delve in, list the five love languages, fingers at the ready for visual counting. But Joe interjects.

“That’s yours.” He says matter-of-factly, cutting you off.

“All right, thanks. Good night,” you pretend to roll over to go to sleep, and in turn make Joe laugh loudly.  

“No, okay. All right. What are they again? These love languages you speak of...” 

You’ve rolled back in an instant and feel like you’re a teenage girl at a sleep over, softly explaining the concept of love languages. The topic hasn’t just randomly popped up for you – you’ve been thinking about Joe’s love language all night. Or, well, love languages. Plural. You’re convinced there’s several. All of them maybe even.

Earlier that evening, when you went out for some drinks – just the quick one, Joe’d said, but it kind of turned into a slower three, maybe four drinks sort of situation – was when you’d started thinking about it.

Joe had been talking to a friend, a story you’d already heard, opinions shared that you already knew, so you weren’t really listening. Weren’t really participating in the conversation. Gave you the time to look around a second. To observe for a moment.

And Joe’s a fidgeter, you know that. Especially when surrounded by others, like right then, and evidently so.

You saw how he plucked at his jeans. How he kept playing with his sleeve. With his rings. How he kept slowly twisting the drink that was on the table in front of him. Kept rubbing at his chin and his cheeks. How his index finger scratched at the skin beside his thumbnail.

You’d only folded your hand over his to make him stop.

Without even breaking eye-contact with his friend, he moved his fingers to intertwine with yours and then just held your hand a second.

Then, he started scratching that same finger at your skin, and you’d tried to use your fingers to still his once more.

It worked.

Sort of.

It made him release your hand from his grip, but then instead, grabbed you by the wrist and held your hand there, on his lap, face neutral and attention not wavering from his friend.

His other hand found your rings to twist, your palm to softly move finger tips across, and your nails to push his pads under.

Touch.

It felt so obvious then that touch was Joe’s love language. He was always so tactile. Always reaching out, grabbing hold of you wherever and then holding on for however long you’d let him.

If that was a knee, then it was a knee. And if that was a foot, then it was a foot.

More often than not it was a hand though. A hand that got taken hold of.

It wasn’t unusual to wake up with a hand that curled around your neck. With an arm that rested across your collarbones, or had snuck under your T-shirt and splayed out on your back. With fingers that wrapped around a wrist, or the back of his hand that rested against your cheek.

Joe’s love language had to be touch.

“I think yours is touch.” you say softly, and you can see how Joe blinks a few times. Seems to think it over for a second, then raises both his hands to look at. Or to show you. Either way.

“I don’t think so?”

Um.

Excuse him.

What does he mean he doesn’t think so?

“I’m not touching you right now, am I?” he clarifies, and you scoff as you wiggle your leg that he keeps sandwiched in between his.

“I think this counts as touching,”

“That’s just,” Joe huffs, “That’s just me helping you out because you get cold feet.”

And it’s so silly, because it makes you laugh as you try to pull your leg out from in between his knees, but Joe just clamps down and fights against you. Uses his fingers to prod you in the ribs to make you laugh louder until you relax.

You know it’s touch.

But, what if it isn’t?

It could be gift giving too.

Not big gestures. No insane meaningful you-mentioned-months-ago-you-really-liked-this-diamant-ring-so-here-you-go sort of gift giving.

More the, I-got-myself-a-bottle-of-water-and-got-you-a-yorkie-because-you-like-those sort of gift giving.

Or the, I-got-my-dad-a-nice-bottle-of-wine-and-decided-to-get-you-one-too gift that he would then casually leave in your fridge.

Just little things that showed you that there were moments in the day where he thought of you.

And you had to stop telling Joe to surprise you when he asked if you needed anything from the shop, because the couple of times you had done just that, he’d just gotten everything he’d seen that he thought you’d like.

“Joe this is… this is just a full bag of ice cream?”

“Yes. And drinks.” he’d said as he let his body curl around you, arms strongly around your waist, chin planted on your shoulder.

You peeked into the bag and moved some things aside to have a better look.

“You got me- what the... you got me a whole bag of ice cream and alcohol…”

And he’d just shrugged a little sheepishly because, yea, he had. Because those were the things you liked, weren’t they? The premixed gin & tonic cans. The Häagen-Dazs caramel biscuit and cream pints.

Unbelievable.

But, could that count as acts of service? Because you’d asked him to surprise you, and just to satisfy your want for something unexpected from him, he’d gone and done just that for you... right?

Or did acts of service only count when you didn’t ask for them?

Like when Joe would see how you’d already curled yourself up into the corner of the sofa, all comfortable underneath a throw-blanket, phone in hand, but no mug of tea on the side table.

He’d just make you one then.

And exactly how you liked it too.

Would even silently take the empty mug after you’d finished it and make you a second one. Seal it off with a squeeze of your shoulder and a kiss on top of your head.

Sometimes it’d be larger stuff, like that one time he’d made you cry when you’d walked into your flat after work, expecting it to be in the messy state you’d left it in the night before. But when you’d left for work, Joe’d still been in bed, and before he’d walked out the door, he’d made sure to tidy the whole place.

He’d not done it right. Of course not. There were still things he’d misplaced that you considered lost, vanished into the ether.

But the fact that he’d put the effort in?

You walked in that day and immediately burst into tears. Had left him a crying voicemail in which you swore at him, called him all kinds of names and finished with a much softer and mumbled “I love you.”

Joe had just responded to it by sending a heart emoji and then that made you cry even more.

Idiot.

You knew your love language probably wasn’t words of affirmation. Obviously. Unless calling someone a dick for doing something nice counted as such.

Joe’s probably wasn’t words of affirmation either.

Although, sometimes... he just very randomly would say something so incredibly sincere and heartfelt, it would almost make you uncomfortable, would make you want to shut him up.

Like when you were out to dinner with your parents, and there was a short silence in conversation, like there naturally would be sometimes, and Joe felt it was the perfect time to let you know that he was proud of you, a hand sneaking under the table to squeeze at your thigh.

Or that time when you were sat in a cinema, everyone quiet, the room dark, all eyes on the big screen, and he’d leant closer to whisper how pretty he thought you were.

“Oh my God, shh,” you’d whispered back, already feeling the blush in your cheeks as he used careful fingers to swipe your hair behind your ear.

“Just thought you should know.”

Or sometimes, when you both had a bad day and were being short and snappy with each other, when you would kind of avoid each other, and would be stuck in sour moods, Joe would very suddenly let you know that he did actually still love you.

You once told him off for leaving all of his shit all over the place, nothing of it tidied away, and you had angrily started clearing things yourself. He joined you then, and it was just four angry hands throwing things around without much care until he suddenly stopped and grabbed your face in both his hands. Forced you to look at him, and God, you’d frowned so hard at him. Were so annoyed with him.

But then he had just said, “I love you.”

It made you look away, stubborn enough to want to hold onto the frustration, but Joe’d just followed your eyes, moved around to keep the eye-contact and repeated himself until you begrudgingly said it back.

“I love you too.”

“Good. Now go sit down. This is my mess to tidy.”

Although, all things considered, quality time was probably up there too if you had to choose one.

Like right now.

Chats in bed counted as quality time, surely. Just time spent together with no one else around. Silent conversations whilst faces pressed into soft pillows and bodies tangled under heavy covers.

“I think mine is maybe acts of service,” you say after some thought.

Joe has his eyes closed again and murmurs a soft, “Hmm.” as a hand snakes over your side and pulls you closer. You easily curl into him, nose to nose, breaths shared.

Yea, no. Touch. Joe’s love language is definitely touch.

“Maybe,” he then adds in a whisper.

You wait for him to explain himself, which he does. After a minute.

“Mmmno,” Joe slurs, and you know he’s about to fall asleep, everything slow and heavy, real effort needed to get the words out.

“It’s laughing at inappropriate times and then calling me,” he yawns, then continues, “And then calling me a dickhead.”

You huff a short laugh, and Joe can feel it on his face. He can’t help but smile, because he knows why that’s funny.

You only call him a dickhead when he is the one to make you laugh at inappropriate times.

And you would’ve fought him on it had you had the strength for it still.

But he’s sort of right.

“Hmm,” you hum, agreeing that laughing at his jokes and calling him names probably does count as your love language.

But his is definitely touch.

The proof is right there in the pudding, you think, as you feel a hand sneak under your top just to rest against warm skin for comfort.

And maybe yours is touch too, but on the receiving end.

“Hey,” you whisper so softly, Joe almost doesn't hear it.

He responds with a squeeze of his fingers.

The best chats always happen at night. In bed, in the dark. But this one, spoken in his love language might just surpass them all.

---

The Taglisted

@adoreyouusugar, @alana4610, @ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @barfightzanddiscolightz, @bettyfrommars, @cancankiki, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @chrissymjstan, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @dylanmunson, @eddies-puppet, @electricmunson, @emma77645, @emmamooney, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @frootvelvet, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @harringtonfan4, @haylaansmi, @jasminearondottir, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @kellyxo1, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @miserybeans, @nadixq, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @roosterisdaddy36, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @thebellenouvelle, @thewondernanazombie, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

[agirlwithglam]

this will stop your addiction to scrolling.

do you even realise how long an hour is? 2 hours, 3 hours, and it goes on.

in this post, we will be chatting about all things scrolling. learnings from a book i read, sciences, information from articles, the negative impacts of it, and ways to fix it. grab a snack and a warm cozy drink, because this is gonna take a while! ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

many times i sit at home thinking that that i "haven't got enough time" to use a whole hour of my day just doing one thing. but then i open my phone, i impulsively go to youtube shorts. "one video" i tell myself. but its never just one video is it? i ended up on my phone for a bit over 1 hour that day. it was disgusting. it made me so mad. i could have spent that time on a hobby, a skill, with my sibling, going for a walk, reading, doing something, anything else! but i didn't. i was so angry i immediately put my phone on airplane mode and switched it off.

see, the thing with scrolling is that you dont even realise how much time has passed! at first it may just be 2:30 but then the next minute you look at it, its already 4pm. and boom. 1.5 hours of time, valuable time has just been gone, evaporated, into thin air. do you not get disgusted of yourself?

the amounts of negatives to scrolling will easily outway any value it brings. whether its youtube, instagram, tik tok, twitter, etc. whatever value or thing you're trying to achieve from these, there will ALWAYS be a better alternative!

this is one of the concepts in the book Digital Minimalism by Cal Newport. it talks about the philosophy behind reducing the time you spend on technologies. see your time as money- say an app charges you by the minute. would you use it as often? you'd probably try to find different ways to getting that same "value" you think your receiving from these addicting apps.

example (for more older people):

you may tell yourself that by being on twitter for hours on end is useful because it can help you get knowledge, news and new connections with people, but that same value you can get- if not more- from just attending monthly or quarterly events, or having a conversation with people, or hand picking a few honest and effective articles to read for a couple minutes each day. as you see, immediately you start to get the same effects you'd be getting from twitter- but more + with much less the amount of time.

or an example from platforms like yt, tiktok, etc.

if it is planned and you've actually told yourself "i have worked very hard, i deserve having a bit of down time to scroll and switch off." , go ahead. (of course there are ways to get that same brain switch off feeling like doodling/ colouring, writing a diary and letting your mind wander, reading a fiction book, taking a bath, etc. but if you've intentionally made this choice, if you truly think this is whats right currently, go for it.)

but lets be real. a lot of the time, its unintentional. even if we have chosen to do it thinking that it is the best thing to do, are you really willing risk hours of your valuable time? "one more video" we ALL say that. its not new. so dont you ever get tired of your excuses? tired having your time thrown away just because you couldn't control yourself? what is that pleasure we get from scrolling?

dopamine.

scrolling activates the brain's reward center by releasing dopamine. every new mini video, like, comment is always keeping us hooked, making us want more and more until it never ends. until its 10pm at night and you're still here. on your phone.

ok so i know i've yapped on a lot. in fact you're probably too lazy and have to less of an attention span to read it all. (yep, also the effect of scrolling.) so,

heres a list of all the harms of scrolling: to enlighten you, not to scare you. (okay maybe a bit to scare you)

lesser attention span. as i mentioned earlier, scrolling reduces your attention span which means it reduces the amount of time you can spend reading, walking, just sitting idle. or you even may not be able to watch a movie without having something on the side like your phone to scroll on! (guilty😬). when that happens, you know something is seriously wrong. if you want to be able to watch a movie without needing all these different distractions, keep reading.

makes you more bored. yeah! i was surprised by this as well ngl!! this also applies to the point about attention span. scrolling can make you feel more bored because all that scrolling, and your brain being super hyper will make you feel bored at the things you used to feel excited by (ex: watching a movie! , reading a book)

increased anxiety and stressed. imagine not being able to stay away from your phone for even a few hours without feeling stressed. thats just so sad but also a truth for many of us. not just that but it can also leave you feeling overwhelmed and hopeless.

sleep disruption. this isn't new. we all know that scrolling late until night not only can affect your sleep schedule/ sleep timings, but also the blue light from your screen stops your brain from making melatonin (a hormone that helps you sleep), which then also affects your sleep. and we know what that can lead to.

on top of all that, it can make you disconnected from real life, nature, increase comparison, harms relationships, productivity and focus and the list goes on.

but you probably don't want to listen to this anymore. you're here because you may be feeling angry. angry at yourself, at your phone, at the internet for taking away so much time that could be spent living a happier life. you have actually felt the harms and now want a change.

[disclaimer: not all of these tips can apply to you depending on your job, your situation, career, relationships, etc etc. take and apply whatever you can.]

tips to stop scrolling (as much):

delete all the social media apps. anything that you scroll on frequently, delete it. this isn't to say that you can't access it at all, you can have it on your laptop or ipad. but the point is that it will increase the friction between you and opening that app.

switch up your feed. this is the very least you can do. start by pressing "not interested" on anything that isn't providing you any actual value. start following people who do provide value. slowly, change your feed to a more positive, motivational page which just makes you feel more inspired/ better every time you leave from it.

set a screen time limit on your phone + set the password as "i failed". this is something i got from online a while ago and its such a good idea! not only will the screen time limit prevent you from further usage, but also setting a password like "i failed" makes you really feel the impact of betrayal to yourself which will make you refrain from doing so!

slowly by slowly, work to reduce the amount of time you scroll everyday.

find the alternative!! okay so now you arent on your phone, aren't scrolling. now what? if you dont already have things that you can do in this immense amount of free time you have, then of course you'd surrender back to scrolling. fill your days with hobbies, new skills, being with other people, with nature, with meaningful and fulfilling activities. "do more things that make you forget to use your phone."

linking back to the earlier point, GET A HOBBY. ngl, it is SAD to only spend your days, vacations, weekends on the damn phone. get off of it! is your life that sad an empty that you have literally nothing better to do then scroll on your phone? thats actually pathetic.

switch off notifications / put on do not disturb- so you dont get constantly reminded

find out why you start in the first place. for me, it used to be an escape to bad things happening in my life/ around me. once you get to the root cause of why you actually start, work back from there. is there away you can remove that trigger from your life? if not, find a different activity that can help you with that trigger.

keep your phone away from your bed. i do this its actually really helpful because it gets me out of bed to have to turn it off which means i dont go back to sleep. also: if you can get a alarm clock which isn't your phone, even better!

things you can do instead of scrolling:

read a book (if its fiction it may be more enjoyable, but its your choice!)

have a shower

set some goals & a to do list for the day

do a puzzle

wordle

try a new skill/ hobby: crochet, guitar, writing

paint/ draw. and stop making thinking it has to be perfect!! if you see it as perfect, it is.

journal / diary writing

hang out with a friend/ someone

cook/ bake

go for a walk or run

learn something new

put a facemask on

listen to a podcast

sleep

yoga/ exercise

write thankyou notes to people

gratitude list

skincare/ a fun grwm of you!

go to a restaurant

style your clothes

make a wishlist

clean out your camera roll

listen to music & just chill

dance

scrap book- phsysical or digitally!

clean/ organize a space

watch a TV show/ movie- WITHOUT your phone.

go swimming

learn about plants so you can start gardening

other things to read:

Psychology behind it, neuroscience, etc.

why you can't stop mindlessly scrolling + tips

BOOK: Digital Minimalism by Cal Newport

reddit

[rinchfest]

Coming this September to an internet near you: Rinch Fest 2024, a ship week for Harold Finch/John Reese from Person of Interest! This is a low-pressure event meant to encourage the creation of more fanworks for Finch/Reese or Finch & Reese’s friendship. Fic, art, gifs, vids, podfic, you name it—all are welcome, as long as they’re Rinch-centric.

Posting for Rinch Fest will run from September 24 through September 30, 2024

PROMPTS:

Day One – September 24 Fluff• Pining• "Always" • Dark• Domesticity

Day Two – September 25 Be Nice To John• Established Relationship• Road Trip • Food/Drinking/Cooking • Art

Day Three – September 26 Be Nice To Harold• Belly• "Beach Cabin in the Woods• "Five+1" • Pets/Animals • Music

Day Four – September 27 Kids/Babies/Pregnancy• Hugs• Clothes • Setting/Genre Change AU• The Machine

Day Five – September 28 Bed Sharing• Wedding/Marriage• Crossover • Canon Divergence • Tropes

Day Six – September 29 Finch Whump • Reese Whump • NSFW/Kink • Retirement • Home

Day Seven – September 30 Free-For-All/Catch-Up Day

Keep reading for more info!

Who’s running this? ArgylePirateWD. Hi! Now with mods @alexsrousseau and @stingalingaling

Any changes since last year? None! As in previous years, Reese&Finch friendship is also allowed

Why not call it Rinch Week? It started out as Rinch Fest on The Rinch Loft on Discord, and that’s what stuck.

Plus, Rinch Fest and Reese & Finch share the same initials.

What’s allowed? Complete fanworks focusing on Harold Finch and John Reese in a romantic or close platonic relationship with each other. Fic, art, vids, remixes, sequels, you name it! No length requirements, no style requirements, all ratings allowed—do what you want!

Anything not allowed? Works where Finch/Reese or Finch & Reese is not the primary relationship (additional ships are fine), works that are incomplete at the time of posting, and remixes or other transformative works for other people’s fanworks that are done without the original creator’s permission. Anything else is fair game, as long as it’s labeled.

Also, don’t be a jerk.

What about [insert controversial topic here]? Can I make something with x?/OMG someone made something with x! Anything else is fair game, as long as it’s labeled. This includes works featuring tropes and kinks that you may not like or approve of. As long as it’s warned for, it’s fine and allowed.

Please warn for the usual AO3 warnings (Major Character Death, Graphic Violence, Rape/Non-Con, and Underage) and any subjects others may find deeply unpleasant, and clearly label any NSFW works.

What about poly? Gen? Poly is wonderful, but this is a Finch/Reese or Finch&Reese event. Sorry.

Finch & Reese gen is allowed!

What do I do with x prompt?/Can I do [insert concept here]? Anything goes! Seriously, however you want to interpret a prompt is fine.

Do I have to make something for every prompt? No! You can if you want, but it’s not required. Feel free to skip days, combine prompts, create multiple fills for each day, anything! This is as flexible as it gets.

If it fits multiple prompts, when do I post it? Whatever day works best for you!

What if I want to do something NSFW? There's no nsfw prompt this year. Is it still allowed? YES! Bring on the spicy if you want!

What about a multi-chapter/piece thing where each chapter fulfills one day’s prompt? When do I post that? Post an update each relevant day until you’re done! (Just make sure you can finish it by the end of the event.)

What if it doesn’t fit a prompt? That’s what Day 7 is for! :D

What if I need to post my fill(s) on a different day? Life happens. The AO3 collection is set to Unrevealed, so I can reveal early submissions on the right day, but if that doesn’t work for you, I’m sure we can work something out.

Can I work on a previously-posted WIP? As long as it’s finished when you make your post for the event, sure! If you’re just updating a WIP without finishing it, no.

Can I start working now? Absolutely! That’s why I’m announcing it now—so there’s plenty of time for people to make things.

Can I talk about/share previews of what I’m working on? Sure!

Wait, there’s a Rinch Discord server? Do I have to join to do this? Of course not. We’d love to have you at The Rinch Loft, and it’s a fun place to hang out, but Rinch Fest is for anyone into Rinch.

If I want the Discord link… Send in an Ask to the @rinchfest Tumblr, contact ArgylePirateWD somewhere, or ask around. It’s open to anyone who likes Rinch or Person of Interest. I’m happy to give it out to anyone who wants it.

Where do I post? On Tumblr, post to your blog and use the #rinchfest23 or #rinchweek23 tags. You are They are being watched. 👁 And maybe add @rinchfest in your post to be sure. Tumblr is as hungry as Bear and Shaw.

Submissions are also open.

On AO3, you can post it here: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/rinchfest23/

Do I have to have a Tumblr? AO3? As long as you’re on some kind of platform and can get a link to the work to me somehow so I can share it with the world, you’re welcome to play.

On October 1st, I’ll make a round-up post full of links to all the shiny things people made. If I know you made it, it’ll go in!

What time zone? The daily prompt posts will be going up at 12 am Central Time, but as long as it’s the relevant day for your fill somewhere in the world, go ahead and throw it in!

(And if you want to sneak in some Day 7 things a little after, as long as they get posted before the Master Post goes up… 😉)

Sounds fun! How do I sign up? No signups! Just post your stuff somewhere on the right day(s), and you’re in!

[velvetvexations]

I'm being stalked by someone who screams that I can't stop talking about her despite her having it made it clear she wants "no contact" and then screenshots my blog to spread more lies about me in spite of the fact that I have her blocked and block evading is supposed to be one of my grievous sins

like literally the most I have talked about her recently was with a coded name that doesn't even reference her URL in response to her taking a screenshot of my post and calling me pro-American because memes are hilarious but IRL seriously I would have preferred 9/11 not have happened

I am still not using her URL or her fucking name while she goes around saying VELVET VEXATIONS SHOULD DRINK BLEACH BECAUSE SHE SAID DONALD TRUMP DOESN'T BELIEVE TRANS WOMEN ARE WOMEN NOW EXCUSE ME I SAW MY LEAST FAVORITE COLOR AND NEED TO COMPOSE A MELINCHOLY POEM TO PROCESS THE GRIEF IT'S CAUSED ME

every time a transradfem equates discussing how transphobes feel about us is the same as misgendering other trans people, that's fucking pathetic assuming it's a genuine belief and not just something to performatively break into tears over as intoxicatingly self-righteous justification for thinking only the people they fetishize should be allowed to exist

but apparently! this person has another stalker who sends her posts to other people! and that's really interesting to me, you know, because the only post of her's I've ever received from an anon was one in which she was talking about me! And when that person came off anon to say it was them that sent it, she took a screenshot of that admission but did not include me telling them off for stirring shit

too bad I decided to delete the admission due them using her name and can't prove I gave them that dressing down, clearly I shouldn't have fucking bothered since innocence itself is no protection

she seriously can't stop calling me a TERF while actual no-bullshit TERFs are openly calling on one another to email publishers trying to get me canceled for writing a fanfic where it's briefly mentioned a trans teenager wore her sister's clothes without asking, what the fuck does any transradfem know about TERFs when I'm dealing with actual TERFs and all they are to them is an abstract concept used to bludgeon trans men and non-binary people with

these fucking people do not experience actual fucking problems, they do not have any conception of what an actual problem is, they sit around lying about the traitorous Queen of Tee Em Eees, puppet of the completely fictional AFAB patriarchy, because they do not have real problems and have never had one in their entire lives, like all fucking people who can't go five seconds without reminding you they're a communist because they think it's cool and trendy and makes them sound smart to say things like dialetic materialist epistemology transubstantiating within the imperial core of the glocal northsouth without actually engaging in any of the actual ideals that make communism laudable and worthy of sincere pursuit

the temptation is to say that transradfems do it because they feel powerless to do anything about actual social issues on any level and lash out at anyone they can feel good taking a swing at, but I don't give a fuck, I'm not willing to give them that they're just misguided, I don't think there's a single atom in the being of even one transradfem that cares about about anything beyond the clout they can extract from it, at best everything they whine about is less than a fourteen year old on Livejournal writing about how unfair it is when their parents won't let them get a tattoo except usually the the fourteen year old would be relaying actual events that actually happened

and I straight up do not fucking believe anyone gets hate mail over interactions I've had with them either, I fucking do not believe those obviously bullshit lies while I still get anons calling me zipperits and trying to trigger dysphoria on the assumption that works on me for saying I think transmascs aren't cis men

in fact, I kinna half-joked about it before, but I think I now just fully believe it one hundred percent was a fucking trans rad fem - probably even this one in particular! - who sent my published work to that TERF the other day, because I haven't had that pinned or brought it up in months and I've never gotten attention from TERFs before this month outside of one or two comments that went nowhere

motherfucking hellsite

fucking internet

fucking stupid motherfuckers

[nostalgiafactor08]

Winnie The Pooh characters helping you through a depressive episode

When you’re sad, write about you favourite childhood characters and most recent hyperfixation and cry over your work.

GN! reader, written as platonic, lets gooooo

GIF by supernma

Winnie 💛

Sweetheart is confused by the concept of depression

He asks why you’re sad, and whether or not you have a reason he’ll sit and listen to you

”Oh, bother.”

He’ll pat your back and offer to share his honey with you

Honestly, he’ll just sit there with you, and you feel kinda bad for bringing him down

But he’ll still tell you that you’re a friend, and friends are worth all of his time if they’re sad

420/10

GIF by carnival-toys

Piglet 🩷

Oh he is so sad for you

”Oh d-dear! Is there anything I can do to help?!”

No matter what, you probably end up on his couch wrapped up in blankets with a nice drink and snack

He’ll reassure you that you’re no bother

Gives you a little notepad to vent your feelings

Will give you a lil hug if you start crying

You probably stay with him for a good while

100/10

GIF by adventurelandia

Tigger 🧡

He’s so exuberant to see you, but your expression concerns him

“You uh- y’alright bud?”

He’s determined to cheer you up, cuz that is what Tiggers do best

When you tell him you aren’t gonna feel better anytime soon, you can see him physically droop

Flops himself on the ground next to you and points out interesting things around you both

Even if his jokes don’t make you smile, it does feel nice to have him there

If you’re okay with it, he’ll give you every hug in the whole wood

69/10

GIF by gifsonthegrid

Eeyore 🩶

my bOYYY-

Okay, he gets you.

“I feel the same, most of the time.”

He’ll probably just lie there with you

On the ground

He might just lay his head on you for comfort, especially if you end up tearing up

Overall a good listener and very understanding, 72/10

GIF by adventurelandia

Rabbit 🤍

Honestly doesnt get it

”Why not just cheer up? There’s more important things to be doing than just lying around.”

Exasperated when you say it’s not that simple

Explain it to him and he will get kinda better with it

”Can i…bring you anything?”

Will ring up someone else to comfort you but tries his best to understand.

Probably researches it to find methods to improve and how to help

Shows it to you if you want to see

Doesn’t really help much. but he’s trying :)

7/10

GIF by kalafii

Kanga & Roo 🤎

THEY’RE SO SUPPORTIVE OML-

Open up their home so you can stay

Roo often asks if you wanna do things with him, like play games or go for walks

Kanga will leave you be, but comes up to your room with food, hugs and a listening ear

Roo will do things like give you plushies and read you stories, stuff his mum does when he’s down

Kanga is so calm when you talk about things

Patches you up if you get hurt

Essentially your family

1000000/10

Hope you enjoyed, feel free to request anything, and to those struggling, you’ve got this <3

[colourstreakgryffin]

Hiiii, I just read your Blitz x trans male! Hellhound reader and I loved it! It was so sweet and comforting for someone who's also trans male 🥹 and it got me thinking, what if a male hellhound reader met Blitz one day at a bar or smth (maybe reader works there?) and they get to talking, Blitz is low-key already crushing, pass a date or a few and reader and Blitz are happily dating! Now, Blitz has been wanting for reader and Loona to meet, cause why not? Plot twist, reader is Loona's bio dad! How they find out is up to you 🫶🫶 (and it's totally okay if you're not taking any requests rn, just wanted to toss my thoughts out there) but I do hope you have a nice day, drink some yummy water, eat that good food, and stay safe 😁

Haha! Awww. Really? You’re trans? That’s wonderful, I hope I did okay with representation since I am nervous to tackle it. You are beautiful in all bodies but I am happy you’ve found your preferred skin! Trans support for life! 🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍⚧️

By the way, I love this! It’s adorable! I think Blitz meeting Loona’s real mom or dad is a cute concept for even a real episode. I can imagine how grateful the parents would be to Blitz for taking care of their puppy! But anyway. Happy to do this, Blitzy is a good boy and I LOVE him so much. You have no idea!

Also also. Everybody. PLEASE stop hating on Blitz. What is going on with him is NOT his fault! You need to step back and look at what happened before bashing him

Blitzø- High-Tell Surprise

Blitzø doesn’t have the best track record when it comes to romantic partners. He has a endless amount of flings and one-night stands but nobody has truly held his heart in the way Fizzarolli did since him, so he shuts himself out from love to avoid the heartbreak

That was all until he met you…

At your job, at a local kinda shitty bat in Imp City. Blitzø was simply exhausted from such a tiring day at his business; running it, arguing with Moxxie, trying to maintain his beloved Loona. All he wanted was to get a bit hammered to dull how aching he is

Blitzø, at first, simply thought you were quite handsome and appealing as you uninterestedly tending the bar he strolled up to. Hellhound as well, he didn’t even know other Hellhounds stuck around this shithole

But hey. He was interested so he worked his magic on you and in no time, he was holding quite the fun conversation with you whilst you were working. Even though, you could have just told him to leave… you didn’t

And he found that very flattering

This became a weird routine he begun doing. He almost immediately forgot about his weird feelings for the Goetia Prince, Stolas and focused more on you to the point that everybody noticed it, even Loona. Coming to the same bar every single day after work, to talk to you and you became his friend in no time

Blitzø isn’t usually the type to make friends with others since he’s quite shielded and closed-off emotionally but yet, he’s still pursuing some type of connection with you and he doesn’t know if it’s because you’re so attractive or it’s because he wants you to be in his life

It felt like everything went by in a blissful blur for Blitzø since all he remembers past up to THAT day is just casual conversations over alcohol that got him wrecked faster than he wants to admit

The mischievous Imp, during his Blitzed state one afternoon at the bar you worked at. I’ll say that it’s become the norm for him to be a regular at your workplace, managed to stumble out something along the lines of;

“Wanna go out with me?”

And surprisingly! You said yes. He almost couldn’t believe it, he never ever wanted to pursue a relationship, out of his fear of intimacy but he can’t get out of this now. He’d have kissed your cute doggy snout right there if he wouldn’t fall over from all the alcohol making his head woozy

You did go on a date with him the next morning… many dates throughout the weeks and eventually, Blitzø decided that weird but pleasant burning beat in his heart is worth to pursue, even if he was so afraid of rejection. He shot his shot and he finally didn’t miss, since now. You’re his hot fluffy wolf boyfriend!

These few months have been even more blissful and kinda blurry than the weeks he spent getting tipsy just to talk to you. He gets to come to your apartment every day, he gets somebody to kiss and talk to, somebody to lean on, somebody to remind him he isn’t alone

Blitzø has introduced you to everybody he loves… being his employees but not the most important one in his life. Loona!

How could he forget?!

Blitzø quickly decides he needs to arrange a meeting inbetween you and his beloved Loonie-Toonie proto since you’re her new stepdad after all. Plus, you’re both fluffy wolfy Hellhounds. He believes it fits and believes that you’ll make a great father figure for his beloved daughter

Okay… he wanted you to be a good father figure to Loona but he did NOT know you were her dad! Holy shit! Blitzø nearly choked on his food when you suddenly picked out a locket necklace, the one belonging to your late wife… the mother of Loona and compared Loona to the baby picture of her

You recognised Loona as scarily familiar, the moment your cute smol imp boyfriend introduced her as his daughter

You and her do very much share blaring similarities physically but Blitzø always figured Hellhounds look similar and never thought much but when you showed off your wife’s locket necklace and compared the picture inside to Loona

Blitzø couldn’t believe his luck… he scored his daughter’s biological father?! And said biological father is actually caring and loving and regrets giving up Loona

Blitzø, the second you revealed this, was ready to kick you out for hurting Loona but when he heard yours and your late wife’s side of the story… he couldn’t bring himself to be angry at you. You did the right thing by saving Loona from a poverty-stricken life

On the other hand, Loona isn’t that happy with you at all

Even so, Blitzø is confident that you’ll be able to repair your relationship with your daughter eventually. He is here to support you all the way and as also Loona’s dad, he will help repair this as much as he can

As he does truly love you, he loves you even more knowing you didn’t just abandon Loona selfishly and did a truly selfless thing for her. You’re a wonderful man, as Blitzø says

By the way, Blitzø finds your late deceased wife attractive and says she is a babe when you show him the pics of her but he respects the fact you’ll always love Loona’s mother, even when you’re with him… hell, he says he’d bang her if she was still alive— that’s just Blitzø

“Hey. Hey. Hey, Bae. Listen to me, I know what Loony said really hurt but she’s just a sensitive soul. I know, she’ll come around, trust me. I know how our daughter is”

[natinkart]

✨️FEM MERCS HEADCANONS✨️ pt 3 SUPPORT

those would be mainly things directly influenced by the gender change, so like personality wise they are pretty much the same as the og

THE BIG FINALE W/ MEDIC, SNIPER AND SPY, oof this one's long and heavy...

*mentions of periods, pregnancy, conceiving and all of that, blame medic and spy, those two are fucked up, and descriptions of resentment towards ones child (it's really heavy but i dont know how to tag it help, i hope this is enough ;-;)*

medic - I like Ludwig as a surname, so she prefers to be called by that (I don't wanna search German names rn). she's bat shit crazy as og medic, so she too, didn't feel "challenged" in medical school and started doing not so legal surgeries. ok now, let's take the weird obsession that og medic has for uteruses but put it through a femminine lens. a woman with a god complex OBSESSED with the concept of reproduction and basically "creating life" is ten times more scary and menacing than the og. I firmly believe she made a procedure on herself to stop her period while keeping her ability to conceive. She just wanted to stop the pain and the bothering bleeding. so no projecting your period cramps on her, sorry 😔. she's one of the few mercs to shave, she cares about her appearance. she has a thoughtful hair and skin routine she's trying to pass to engie. medic and engie are besties. They do girls' nights in the medbay or in engie's lab in which they try to create life from scrap metal and spare body parts. Just girly things, don't worry about it. she needs 3 bottles of beer before starting to feel tipsy, she's not the best drink buddy because trying to keep up with her will most likely bring you comatose. everyone thinks she has big tits but actually, she has a big rib cage and little fat on her chest. She does not correct the others, though, she never showed her full body in the common shower. seeing the team fully naked does not bother her, she just sees future specimens, but others seeing her? that's embarrassing, that will NEVER happen.

sniper - ok, hear me out for the name, but I think Mildred would be cute, but she would prefer to be called Mindy, so her name would be Mindy Mundy. I'm a genius I know. anyway, like og sniper, she had a difficult childhood, always out of place, distant and isolated, like engie but 10 times worse. so she has EVEN WORSE care routine. no wait, correction, she DOES NOT take care of herself WHATSOEVER. she's a greasy, unkept woman with little to no care about her appearance. she has mid back length hair but she cut her front hair with scissors because they get in the way. she prefers to stay with no bra, she finds it restricting. she does sleep in the van and lived out of canned food every time she had work to do. obviously, when employed by RED she kept sleeping in the van but is grateful that heavy, scout and engie are able to cook really good meals, this kind of helped with her health. she knows how to skin animals and have great anatomical knowledge. she's neither shy or introverted, she just doesn't care about others and sometimes she's kinda of a dick, but if she actually talks to you it means that in some way she cares about you. she talks a lot with scout, even if they mainly tear each other apart, both verbally and, sometimes, physically. the fight is usually stopped by heavy or engie, the others either encourage it or do not care. she is a professional so she would never say it but she likes staying with the team, but she does say that the all have their use.

spy - uff.. ok. spy is a complicated one. an arrogant, stubborn, self centred femme fatale. she wear her mask (i'm sorry i don't remember how it's called T.T) that covers her face like og spy, but i want here to wear a neckerchief and sunglasses. she still wears a suit, but it's a woman's suit, so shorter jacket and some other small differences. the main problem with spy is that a relationship between father and son and a mother and daughter one it's REALLY DIFFERENT. if you are the one that suffered for 9 month to give birth to a human being you didn't want, you are not just gonna ignore her for the rest of her life, no, you gonna have pure hatred in you soul for your daughter… the maternal love is so easily obscured by this resentment against the child you feel ruined your life. spy's really spiteful and maybe even malicious against scout and the fact that Jenny keeps her in such high regard would only increase that love-hate sentiment. spy wants to have a loving relationship with her but she connected the very concept of her daughter to that profound hate she had for so much time that she started to loath herself. that hate towards Jenny became toward herself, but she won't admit it so she conceive that feeling behind her "disliking scout". a bond between a mother and their children is so deep that when severed in any way leaves such deep scars and may will never heal. and when your daughter sees you everyday but not her own mother, you know that wound for spy is open to the world to see. she isolates herself from the team to NEVER create a bond with anyone, she's always alone, she must know everything about others and make them scared of her, it's the only way she can keep control on her own emotion. if someone would find out ANYTHING about her she would feel vulnerable, if she bound with ANYONE she would be vulnerable, and she won't allow it. she won't never allow it again. but Jenny is the living manifestation of her vulnerability, the only time in her life in which she was happy, in love, but from where she fled the moment she had a physical representation of that. so no, she doesn't hate scout, she hates herself, she hates that she is vulnerable, that she can't be vulnerable, that she crave a loving relationship with her daughter and the consciousness she fucked everything up. her love for Jenny is so deep inside of her that is impossible to grasp, is at her very core but covered by millions of layers of hate and self loathing, all protected by the mask of a cocky and egoistic woman.

EDIT: you can find the full art line up HERE!!

pt1 | pt2

i really hope you're still here after the depression™️

[writtenbymisunderstoodnerds]

I never wanted this, but maybe it's not such a bad thing (Preath x Reader)

Soulmate Au, requested by anon. This turned out to be really long and it's still not finished so I decided to split it up into 2-3 parts. Hope you enjoy!

If I haven't done your request yet it will be coming. I try to write in order of request, but my brain chooses what I write without my consent and I can't focus on anything else. Perks of ADHD.

Words: 2.7k

---

Soulmates. It was a concept that I had always despised. Why did the universe or whatever you want to call it get to decide who I was meant to spend my life with? I didn't like being told what to do at the best of times, let alone when it came to one of the biggest decisions one might make in life. Apparently when you meet your soulmate a tattoo appeared somewhere on your body of something that represented where or how you first met. I hadn't found my so called soulmate yet and I really didn't care if I did or not. It's not like I would do anything about it anyway.

"Where are you heading in such a hurry?" Ali asked, as I was getting my stuff together. Ash was my older sister, Ali had practically been my sister since they met, I loved her as much as I did Ash. They had let me stay with them after I got out of the marines last year after being injured in a bad wreck, I was struggling to readjust to normal life and move past the wreck. There were a lot of bad dreams and sleepless nights which had me turning to alcohol. Ash had pulled me out of it before it turned from a bad habit to an addiction. She got me into therapy, stopped me from drinking, slept with me every night for over a month until my dreams started to settle down. 

"I'm going surfing, tell Ash I'm heading to our spot if she wants to join." I ran out the door, but quickly turned back kissing the kids and Ali's cheek, "Love you all, aunty will see you both soon, be good."

"Be safe, love you. Remember some of the team is coming for lunch, it would be good to meet them before you start." I was starting with the team as security in two weeks. With being deployed, trying to sort my life out and working, I had never met most of the team. Unfortunately, I had even missed their wedding because I was deployed. The only person I had ever really met was Megan. 

"I'll be there!" I yelled over my shoulder. 

After what felt like hours and good few wipe outs, I finally made my way back to the beach. I had my wetsuit sitting down around my waist, drying myself off when a voice spoke up, "You're pretty good."

There was a brown haired girl, probably about my age, staring at my abs. I smirked before speaking, "Guess you didn't see the part where I totally wiped out?"

Her head shot up. As soon as our eyes met, an intense burning sensation shot through my wrist. I hissed, gripping my wrist. The stranger seemed to be doing the same thing, but the pain was so intense, I couldn't pay much attention. After a few seconds the pain subsided and I finally looked down at my wrist. Previously bare skin was now covered by a wave tattoo. What was happening finally hit me. The stranger was my soulmate.

I looked at her for a second, feeling a sense of calm wash over me as it felt like everything was falling into place. It felt right. Which was not what I wanted to feel. Honestly, it scared me. I had heard stories about it, but I never wanted to feel that way towards my soulmate. 

"You-"

Before the stranger could say anything else, I ran away. Literally, I picked up my surfboard and sprinted down the beach. I never wanted to meet my soulmate, I didn't want a soulmate to begin with. In that moment I figured that if I ran away, I wouldn't have to deal with it or see her again. 

"Woah, I know you are not about to come into this house with your wetsuit still on."

"Right sorry," I quickly stripped off my wetsuit, making sure to hang it up before rushing upstairs to shower and try forget what happened on the beach. I was in the shower for probably half an hour before moving to sit on my bed, staring into space for another good half an hour. There was a knock on the door, bringing me out of my thoughts, "Yeah?"

"You coming down? The team is starting to arrive."

"Uh yeah, let me just get dressed. I'll be down in a minute."

I quickly got dressed before pushing any thoughts of soulmates out of my mind. Before I could get far, crying from the nursery caught my attention. Ali called up the stairs asking me to get him before heading down. 

"Hi baby boy," I whispered as I picked him up, moving to change his diaper before we went down stairs, "I could definitely use some cuddles from my beautiful nephew right about now, how does that sound? Maybe we can get you a bottle while we're at it, everyone loves good food after a nap."

I was too invested in my one sided conversation to notice the amount of girls gathered in the kitchen as I walked in. As I looked up, I found my gaze drawn to a curly haired brunette. That was until my wrist started intensely burning again. 

"Take him."

Ali looked confused, "What?"

"Someone take him now." Ocean was quickly taken from me as I gripped my wrist, trying not to swear because I knew Sloane was in the room. This almost felt worse than the first time, maybe because the area was already tender.

"Y/n! What's happening?" I heard Ash ask, voice laced with worry as her arm wrapped around me. The pain subsided once again as I looked at the stranger. I got the same calm feeling from the beach wash over me. Ash was still standing next to me, concern radiating off her as I looked around the room, eyes stopping on the stranger from the beach. Before anyone could say anything, I ran again. This time out of the house and back to the beach. I was confused, why did I have that reaction twice? There was no way I had two soulmates right? That doesn't happen.

I finally looked down at my wrist. The wave tattoo now accompanied by a house. I sunk down into the sand, tucking my knees against my chest as I stared out at the water. 

Someone sat down next to me, I knew it was either Ali or Ash, they were the only ones who knew about the little corner of the beach I came to hide. Ali's soft voice spoke up after a few seconds, "Thought I might find you here. You found your soulmate?"

Of course it was Ali. Ash was always there for me, but it was more support, spending time with me, fighting for me. Ali was always the better one at making me talk. I chucked humourlessly, showing her my wrist, "Two soulmates apparently. First one happened on the beach earlier."

"That's why you came in so hurriedly. Going by who you were looking at when it happened, I have a feeling I know who your other is. Do you want to know who they are?"

"I never wanted to know them at all."

Ali wrapped her arm around me, pulling me closer. Her perfume creating a sense of peace as it always did, "I know, I know you don't like the concept of a soulmate, but you're going to be around them a lot Y/n. They're our teammates."

"Of course they are. Fuck this, fuck the world, fuck everything."

She chuckled, rubbing my arm, "You're being a bit dramatic."

I groaned dramatically, "Just let me be dramatic for a second before I have to face this."

"Okay, let me know when you're ready." 

After a few minutes I decided to just face it. It wasn't something I could run from. Ali was right, if they were on the team them I would be around them a lot, "Tell me."

"So the one in the house is Christen, now I'm assuming the one from the beach is Tobin."

"Why do you assume that?"

"Christen and Tobin are together, they're soulmates. They've mentioned a few times that they felt like someone was missing. I know you don't want this Y/n, but you should at least talk to them. It effects them as well, they deserve to know your stance."

Once again Ali was right, just because I didn't believe in it, doesn't mean they didn't deserve to know that I wasn't interested instead of me just running away or ignoring it. I could be an asshole, but not that much of an asshole, especially when it came to potentially breaking some ones heart. "I know. Give me 5 minutes once you get back then you can send them out if they want to."

Ali left, once again leaving me to my thoughts. I didn't know what I was supposed to say. I was never good at talking to people I just met or having to potentially hurt someone. Add them both together and I was slightly panicking. 

Shadows covered the sun making me look up. There stood my two soul mates. Who I guessed was Tobin spoke up first, "Uh hey, Ali said we'd find you out here." 

I quickly looked down, trying to stop the feelings that started to rise being this close to them. It was comfortable, calming, peaceful, but I was nervous at the same time. Nervous about what to say, how they would react and how I would feel about it once it was done. It wasn't what I wanted, I didn't want to be forced to be with someone. There was a small part of me that wondered if I would regret it, "Hey."

"I'm Tobin, this is Christen."

"Y/n."

They sat down, looking about as nervous as I felt. There was silence for a few seconds before I spoke up, "I'm sorry for running away. Twice. It was a shock I guess."

"It's okay, we get it."

"Look um I have to be honest with you both. I don't believe in soulmates, well I do, but I don't believe in the concept of just being with someone because you're told you should be. I'm sure you are both great, but this isn't something I'm looking to pursue."

They tried to hide it, but I saw the hurt fill their eyes. My heart ached knowing I hurt them. Hurting people was the last thing I wanted to do. Christen smiled softly at me, "We respect that Y/n."

"I-I'm sorry."

"Don't be, it's okay. We understand."

"We're going to head back in. Are you coming?"

"I will. I'm just going to take a minute."

After getting my mind back in order, I made my way back to the house stopping by the door to take my shoes off. It wasn't my intention to eavesdrop, but I accidently overheard the conversation going on. "Yes she's our soulmate, no nothing is going to come of it. She's not looking for that right now and we understand that. Finding out you have two soulmates is a lot especially when you're not looking for a relationship. Yes, it kind of hurts, but please don't let this effect the way you interact with her. We don't hold any negative feelings toward her."

There was quiet conversation as I waited a few seconds before going inside. I appreciated that they had my back despite what just happened. It was one of my worries that it would effect how the team saw me. I couldn't do my job easily if they hated me. I also didn't want my sisters bestfriends to hate me. Sloane was the first person to notice me, she ran up pulling at my hand until I picked her up, "Otay aunt Y/n/n? Ouchie? Kiss better."

I held my wrist out for her to kiss better. It was something I always did for her when she got hurt, "I'm okay superstar, it's all better now thanks to you."

"Ladies, this is my sister Y/n. As you may know she's starting as head of security in a couple of weeks."

Things weren't as awkward as I expected. They didn't seem to hold it against me. Interacting with me, getting to know me. Tobin and Christen kept their distance, choosing to interact with anyone but me. It wasn't unexpected, I was doing the same thing. It was just easier that way.

---

No one warned you how weird it would feel to not be with your soulmate or soulmates in my case. It was kind of hard to describe, there wasn't a constant pain or heartache like you would read in stories, it just felt weird. It was a sort of empty feeling, like something was missing. Which I guess there was. It had been three weeks since I first met them and a week since I started working with them.

We were friendly when around each other, but Christen and Tobin kept their distance when they could. I didn't blame them, I knew it hurt that their soulmate didn't want them. Ash had told me when I had asked how they were. Just because I didn't want it, doesn't mean I didn't care. If I'm being honest, I was still drawn to them, drawn to how right everything felt when I was around them. That scared me so I kept even more of a distance. 

I was heading up to my room when someone stopped the elevator from closing. Christen and Tobin got on, standing awkwardly across from me. This was the first time we had been alone since the beach on the day we met. The elevator jolted to a stop, not opening or moving despite trying the buttons. 

"They said something went wrong with the system, some ones coming to fix it, but it could take up to an hour." Tobin informed us as she hung up the phone.

"Great. That's just fucking fantastic. Of course this would happen now of all times"

I noticed Tobin clenching her jaw, "I know you don't want to be stuck with us, but you don't have to take it out on us. It's not like it's our fault."

I slid down the wall, tucking my knees to my chest. Tobin and Christen followed my lead, sitting down on the other side of the elevator. "Sorry, that was just a general statement, it wasn't aimed at you. I have an appointment with my therapist and I don't do well in confined spaces anymore." There was silence for a few minutes before I spoke up again, "It's not that I don't want to be stuck with you guys, I have nothing against you, you're both really nice people."

Tobin sighed, head resting back against the wall, "I know you have a thing about soulmates and we do respect that, but why won't you even just try to get to know us before completely shutting it down?"

"I don't know. To be honest I didn't even think about it. Everything happened so quickly, I got scared."

"What scares you?" Christen asked, voice softer than Tobin's was. I was starting to think that was just how Christen was. She always seemed so soft spoken. I admit it was comforting.  

I was never one to easily talk about my feelings, but I figured I owed them more of an explanation seeing as I broke their hearts with little to no explanation to begin with, "I don't want to be stuck in a relationship with someone I don't like or have anything in common with. I want to choose who I'm with, who I build a life with, not have it forced on me. Having two soulmates didn't help either."

"Chris and I aren't asking for a relationship Y/n."

"Y-you're not?"

"No, we just want to get to know you, see if there is anything there beside the soulmate connection. We never expected you to just jump into a relationship with us, all we wanted was to get to know you. Seeing how you reacted to us, we didn't want to push you."

"No expectations?"

"No expectations."

"That might be okay. For now can you guys just tell me about yourselves? Distract me from what's happening because I'm about to start panicking."

[ohyespotatous]

Weekly study reflection (June 1-7) 💗🧠

Goals: Study at least 7 hours or revise 4 chapters a day Goals achieved: 3/7 (June 1, 3, 5) 

💌 - When I told you I'm a potato, I meant it, guys. My biggest blunder this semester? Being lazy for an entire month in April, which left me binge-studying 23 days before exams. I ambitiously aimed for 7-10 hours of daily study and promptly burned out in the first week, lol. Well, it's embarrassing. It's okay guys… Feel free to use me as a bad example. That way I won't be that useless. Haha, just kidding! We either win or learn :) Now that I made the decision to not fail this semester, I’ll make the most of my time, even if it's not perfect. So… here's my evaluation of the first exams prep week :v

Goals & objective 🎯

🧐>

The goals I set could be more attainable and specific.

Studying for 7 hours doesn’t mean I am effectively learning something. I could learn more or less in the same amount of time.

Revising based on the chapters isn’t practical for exam preparations. I don’t need to relearn everything, and it gets boring for my rebellious mind.

💡>

I need to set different goals for each subject & topic.

Outcome-based objectives rather than time-based ones.

Time, energy, and focus management ⚡

🧐>

Boring study schedule. As I set my goals based on study duration, I made a fixed study schedule with a fixed study interval. I got knocked out really fast. 

I tend to get burnt out every other day when I study for more than 5 hours.

Long sessions lead to diminishing returns. My study time keeps decreasing throughout the week.

I’m not too fond of Pomodoro because it breaks my flow. Still, it is helpful when I have difficulty focusing or don’t feel like studying.

Coffee doesn’t necessarily enhance my focus. Drinking enough water works just as well. Morning coffee causes me anxiety during noon study sessions.

My brain works best in predawn hours until early morning.

💡>

Add a big buffer to the study time, so you can start when you’re physically & mentally ready and don’t feel guilty when you start late.

Break the study time into shorter intervals with breaks.

Use a variable-interval/variable-ratio reinforcement schedule. Stop when you’ve learned/done enough or are tired. Give yourself a little reward.

Optimize study environment and various learning methods for sustained focus. Keep it interesting!

Adjust caffeine intake and timing. Drink enough water.

Learning Techniques 🧠

🧐>

Since I have only studied Statistics and Economics until now, my biggest challenge is the numbers 💀 My biggest weakness. The only way out is to practice and practice more.

I think the theory part went pretty well. 

Unless the book is ‘poorly written’ or hard to understand, I don’t really need pretty notes. Scribbling the book and writing side notes work better for me. 

Flash cards for key concepts and terminologies.

I use the Feynman method and mindmaps to review my understanding of the information. I usually explain the concepts to the walls or my cats, lol.

I still need to make time for the practice tests.

💡>

Make card decks for Statistics and Economics equations.

Convert charts and diagrams into your own words.

Schedule a time for the practice tests.

╰⁠(⁠*⁠´⁠︶⁠`⁠*⁠)⁠╯

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

This is such a fun concept, 3 and angst please x

I have 2 more of the same requests for this one so I'm counting them for this blurb as well:) Thank you for your patience!

Warnings: mentions of cheating!

You'd been with your now husband since college and while he wasn't an awful guy, he was completely complacent after you got married. He stopped looking after you and the relationship you had and it was making you feel really lonely and insecure. He made you feel more like a burden than a life partner. You had plans with him and he was bailing on all of them, he started pushing off trying for a baby even and once you confronted him about this he assured you he'd be better but then he just got "really busy" at work and just did whatever he could to minimize running into you at home. You suspected an affair, but you couldn't find proof for months.

Over the holidays he mentioned that he needed you to go to his office Christmas party with him. Of course you'd go and it was going well until he said something came up with a client and he needed to sort it out quickly. You knew a few of the people he worked with so you hung around, but when he started taking a bit too long you had gone down to his office to look for him and that's when you saw him with one of his co-workers...well, he was sucking the other guy off and this shocked you because you had no idea that he was even into men. You kept this to yourself and decided to try and get him to admit that he was having an affair, but no matter what you did he would always work around it in some way and you just needed some help with this.

You decided to talk to one of your closest friends about this, Harry. You and Harry had a history all on your own. To him, you'd always be the one that got away. He had been in love with you since you guys were 17. He'd just never really done anything about his feelings for you until it was too late. Your husband didn't like Harry though and so once you were married he asked you to not bring him around and you talked to Harry about it and he was respectful, but you two still spoke and well, he seemed like the best person to talk about this to. You explained what you saw and how you felt about it and well you maybe had a little too much to drink and you ended up making out. And it felt so good to finally act on the tension that brewed between you two for years. One thing led to another and you slept together and you felt awful, even even if you knew your husband was having an affair you didn't want to do the same thing to him. So when you got home you decided that you'd tell him that you'd been with someone else, obviously not Harry, as he already had it in for him. But he blew up on you, acted like you'd done the worst thing in the world and his hypocrisy angered you. You told him that you'd seen something at his Christmas party and he lost his mind on you, so much so that you left your home for the night because you just couldn't be around him anymore.

He was worried about you telling his friends or his family, but you'd never do that. And even told him that if he didn't love you, you could end things but he promised he could get better and stop the affair, but it was all a lie. So you started to sleep with Harry and it's been a year now and you and your husband have mastered the art of pretending while being in a completely loveless marriage.

Harry was happy to have you back in his life regularly, but the circumstance was messed up. He loved you but this relationship with you was absolutely draining him. He was helping you deal with all of this and it seemed like you only needed him for sex and to vent. He couldn't say no though...having you in this capacity was better than before when you'd see each other every couple of months. His feelings for you had never changed and they were leading him to care about you more than his own wellbeing. He wanted to talk to you about the future, he didn't just want to be your secret, he wanted to be with you for real. So he decided to take the chance one Sunday morning.

"Morning, baby." you hummed as you walked into the bathroom while he was brushing his teeth.

"Morning." he responded as best as he could through his toothbrush as you came up behind him.

"Smell's amazing." you hummed as you kissed the back of his shoulder through his robe and he leaned down to spit out the toothpaste.

"Yeah, made a special breakfast for us."

"Special how?" you asked as you let go of him to watch him through the mirror and he held up a finger as he finished up.

"Special as in it's cute so hurry up and get down there." he said and you agreed and hurry to freshen up. By the time you got downstairs Harry had served up your plates and you coffee and you two ate as you made plans for the rest of your day.

"Thank you, everything was delicious." you said with a grateful smile and a full tummy.

"Of course, baby." he hummed happily as he placed his hand over yours and ran his thumb over your knuckles, you didn't have your wedding ring on and this brought him to the topic he needed to talk to you about. "I also was hoping to talk to you about something." he said and you nodded with a smile, "I guess I just want to know where we stand, you know? Obviously, you know how I feel about you, but we can't keep doing this forever, you know? Like...I know you're in a tough spot, but this is starting to take a toll, love." he explained and you frowned.

"A toll?"

"Yeah, like on me. Emotionally and mentally...like I can't talk to anyone about you or about us because you're married. And like...I want to be able to be able to have all of the normal couple things with you but I can't. I guess I'm just wondering what comes next." he said and you sighed.

"I don't know, Harry." you said honestly and he frowned a bit, "Please, don't look at me like that..." you said sadly.

"Baby, this is just really hard for me, OK?"

"And it's not for me?" you asked and he sighed.

"I'm not saying that. I'm just explaining to you what I'm feeling. I just feel like this is not fair to me because we're the ones in a relationship. You and your husband don't even have that anymore. Like...I just want to understand why neither of you have taken any steps to get a divorce." he said and you sighed.

"Harry, that's not any of your business." you said and he looked at you completely perplexed.

"Ummm, how is it not my business? I've been your secret side piece for a year, Y/N!" He frowned in frustration and you sighed.

"You know it's not like that-"

"It is like that! Every day you don't choose I'm putting my life on hold! You don't think I want to get married and have kids and build a life with someone?" he asked you sadly.

"I want those things too!"

"Then what are you waiting for?" he asked you, "Your husband isn't going to give that to you. He's gay, Y/N. You know this now-"

"His family can't know about that though and-"

"Just because you get divorced it doesn't mean he has to come out if he's not ready. And maybe his partner is OK with being a secret for the rest of his life, but I'm not." he said and you sighed and shook your head.

"Harry, you're being kind of selfish right now-"

"I'm being selfish?!" he interrupted you in complete disbelief, "I have been choosing you over me every single day for a year now! I have put aside my morals for you-"

"No one asked you to do that!" you said back and he sighed and covered his face with his hands for a moment before looking at you again.

"You're right. You're absolutely right." he said quietly.

"I just need more time, Harry." you said softly.

"OK, but we're not doing this until you figure that out." he said firmly.

"What?" you asked him with a frown.

"You said yourself that I've also decided to keep this going and I'm deciding not to. You know it's wrong, and as happy as I am to even have a sliver of you in my life, I can't keep doing this! It hurts me! You're hurting me! You don't care that you're hurting me?"

"I didn't know I was. I'm sorry. We don't have to break up though-"

"We're not breaking up because we're not anything, remember? You said no label." he reminded and you frowned.

"Right..." you whispered sadly. You had forgotten about that and started to realize just how this was unfair towards him and you felt awful, "I'm sorry, Harry. I'm going to make this right as soon as possible." you said and he sighed.

"I appreciate that, but I just...I need you to take care of that first before we continue seeing each other." he said again and you sighed.

"Fine." you agreed. After that conversation you just needed to go handle your personal shit. You packed your things and decided to head home. Harry walked you to your car and you hugged him tight and he hugged you back, "I'm really sorry, Harry. I promise I'll make this right." you assured him and he sighed.

"I can't imagine how hard this will be, but I promise you that I will be right here for you, waiting." he said and you sighed shakily, "Waiting for you like I always have been." he said softly with so much hurt but hope in his heart.

READ MORE PICTURE PROMPT BLURBS HERE!

[smilemoreimagines]

i would never fall unless it’s you i fall into (Din Djarin/Reader)

Chapter 1

length: 2,269

tw: canon-typical violence

author’s note: hey, it’s been a minute since I’ve written a fanfiction, I’m planning on this one being a slow burn sooo let’s buckle in for a bit, friends! reader is force-sensitive and autistic because I can’t help myself. each chapter will have its own trigger warning just so you know :) I hope you enjoy!

You grew up with former Jedi masters and padawans as your only guiding roles, loved and yet kept at arm’s length at the same time. It was a concept you never got, that need for aloofness, uncaring, detachment. You felt every emotion with every fiber of your being. Happiness was bliss. Sadness was misery. Anger was white hot, burning rage. 

You were taught the ways of the Jedi, trained—for a time anyway—as all of the other Force-sensitive younglings that made their way to your small clan on a forgotten moon in the Outer Rim. It was your family. You had no mother or father but you had an abundance of siblings. It just… shifted, slightly, when it became clear that you weren’t meant for the life of a Jedi. You were only eleven.

They tried to fit you into that mold, and you tried and tried to make yourself smaller, less, less of yourself so that you could just fit in like you yearned to, but your emotions would tangle up inside of you, growing until you burst. And that contradicts their way. You couldn’t help it. It was just how your brain worked. But you were a liability. They still trained you in meditation and simple hand to hand combat, which you were bad at, but you were no longer included in any lessons on the Force.

With a new hole in your life you naturally gravitated towards caring for the younglings still too small to train, and your help meant that all of the masters could be dedicated to the training of the new generation of Jedi. You were useful, appreciated. The older padawans would pat your head or squeeze a shoulder on the way out the door to lessons you were no longer welcome to join. You missed learning about this part of yourself.

You were never explicitly told not to use the Force anymore, though, just that you would no longer be able to walk the path of the Jedi. So, you started to train yourself. You would practice when the little ones were asleep, your abilities growing slowly as you felt out how things worked, what you could manipulate and what you couldn’t. As you learned, your power grew, until you were sixteen years old and you couldn’t hide your power from the masters anymore. If you didn’t use the Force often enough it would build up in you, similarly to your feelings, so you had to use it subtly more often. When they confronted you about your self-training everything came to a head in the absolute worst way and you had no choice but to leave the only home you’d ever known, as a teenager. 

Shit was hard, for a long time. You were so young, and naive, knowing next to nothing about anywhere outside of your tiny piece of the galaxy. It was pure luck you were even able to make it off-world in the first place. And you just wanted to assume the best of people. You were empathetic, to a fault. You were used, got hurt. After that you were almost always alone, save for brief moments stolen in a bed if you were lucky, or a bathroom, or a closet, quick and to the point. Alone for about fifteen years. 

And now, in the present moment, you were absolutely karked, being chased out of Mos Eisley by a bunch of idiots. You’d been in a cantina, drinking some type of cactus flower booze popular on Tatooine, and you were long enough into your night that yeah, maybe you were a little drunk. And maybe absentmindedly used the Force to slowly slide your drink from one end of the table to the other as you daydreamed. You were in a corner booth in the back and thought no one was looking, and the noise of the bar was pushing your brain to the point of feeling like you were buzzing. You came back into your body and flapped your hands a few times to get out the nervous energy of the overstimulation. 

Just your luck that a human man with a thing against Force-users glanced over and saw you right before you stopped, nudging his buddies to point out what you were doing with your glass. They drew their blasters without uttering a single word to you. No warning, no honor. The first shot went wide, missing you by a mile and alerting you to the unfriendlies as one of them spat, “Filthy Jedi. Thought they’d killed the last of you.” 

You whipped your hand out and they all slammed into the bar, some of them dropping their weapons, all of them losing their breath at the impact against the bar carved out of the ground. You were already at the door before any of them recovered enough to give chase. If you could just lose them in the streets you’d lay low for the night, grab your pack from the room you’d been renting,  and get a shuttle off-world in the morning. Stars knew you were ready to get off this planet. It was too kriffing hot. 

Before you managed to round the corner of the street–nearly empty, no crowd to get lost in at this hour even in Mos Eisley–another blaster shot went off. You heard it buzz past your ear, too close, and ran harder. They had the advantage of longer legs though and they gained on you easily, firing as you weaved your way through the streets. There was no way you were going to lose them in the city. 

You were no idiot, you kept a blaster on you at all times, and you’d already grabbed it from your thigh holster. You shot behind you blindly, getting a grunt of pain as reward. You weren’t above shooting a person or two. You just never shot to kill. But there were still more people giving chase than you could ever hope to shoot. You were nearing the outskirts of town and at this point your only hope was pretty much counting on them to not follow you into the desert. The Sand People were a big enough threat around here right now that most people would rather stay in the city and not risk it without a ship or speeders. 

It was usually empty out there. So imagine your surprise when you skidded around the last corner and saw a starship with its ramp down maybe a street’s length away. That could give you the cover you needed to make it to the hills where they definitely wouldn’t follow. You were booking it for the ship, desperate for its cover when there was another wave of blaster fire. This time, they shot true. This time, a bolt burned right through the outer edge of your thigh. You stumbled but didn’t fall, and now you were close enough to the starship to see an imposing figure in the doorway, tall and broad… But he was holding a tiny creature in his arms, that lifted its own hand to point in your direction. A father and child. 

There was no way you could make it to the hills, but you could make it to that karking ship, hole in your leg or not. You put in a burst of speed as the male figure lifted his own hand and slammed it into the button to close the exterior door. His armor flashed silver in the moonlight and all you could think was no way am I dying on fucking Tatooine. You were so close now that you could see when the little creature closed its eyes and held its hand in the air, body quivering in strained concentration. The raising of the ramp slowed the slightest bit, enough for you to launch yourself through the gap right as it slammed closed. 

“Dank farrik!” The man shouts a curse at you as you lay on the floor panting, his voice coming out rough and modulated. Your chest heaves as you fight for breath, unable to offer explanation as the blaster fire is now aimed at the ship. The man curses again, looking from you to the kid to the closed door and apparently comes to a decision as he whirls around in a dramatic flurry of cape and flashing armor. He climbs the ladder one handed, the little green thing peeking at you over his armored shoulder. 

You guess he’s gone to the cockpit and this is confirmed when the engine roars to life, taking off to get out of the range of fire at most before dumping you in the desert, but as you catch your breath you feel the ship leaving the atmosphere. No longer in immediate mortal danger you start to feel the blinding pain in your thigh. You feel around the spot tentatively and suck in a sharp breath–at least it didn’t hit your femoral artery–but when you sit up to assess the extent of the damage and subsequently see the durasteel floor straight through your leg, you think that it’s pretty justified when you let out a shout of, “What the kriff?” and promptly pass out.

When you wake up, you’re pretty sure you were only out for a few minutes, at most. Your hand twitches at your side before you’ve opened your eyes but when your fingers move you can feel that they’re wet. You groan and slowly open your eyes, blinking against the harsh artificial lights overhead, and when you prop yourself up with one arm you’re met by the sight of your own blood starting to form a puddle around your leg. 

Kriffing hell, you’ve never wished so badly that you’d been trained as a Jedi a little longer so that you could Force-heal yourself. Alas, as it stands, you don’t even have bacta patches, or gauze, for crying out loud, in your small day pack. You hadn’t exactly been planning on heading off-planet and didn’t have your duffel with you. The duffel containing all of your clothes, med kit, and most of your credits… You are so karking screwed.

Without any other options that you can see and your mind getting foggy from blood loss, you manage to call out in a voice rough from disuse, “Uh, I think I’m bleeding out on your floor?”

Part of you expects to get no reply. Easier to dump a body and mop up some blood than help a stranger who jumped onto your ship while being pursued by a bunch of blaster-happy assholes. But after just a moment, a little green head–wrinkly head? Not a child?–looks down at you from the open hatch in the ceiling, its dark eyes huge as it takes in what must be a pretty gruesome scene, before a large gloved hand scooches it from the edge as it gurgles and points at you insistently. So definitely a child? You’re so confused. The puddle around you is growing. Is it freezing on this ship or what? You shiver.

“Okay kid, alright. I’m going. Stay there.” That same modulated voice says softly, barely able to be heard over the engines rumbling beneath you.

A silver blur comes down the ladder. You blink and then he’s crouched next to you, lightly patting your cheek with his gloved hand, the helmet’s speaker crackling as he says, “Hey there, stowaway. Stay awake.” You want to say no, petulant as a child, because sleep sounds so good right about now. 

“No?” You open your eyes again–when did you close them?–at the snip of annoyance in his voice. 

Using your inside voice on the outside, not a great sign, but you can’t stop your mouth from moving. “Yeah,” you slur, “Cuz I don’t feel so good.” 

You haven’t been this injured since… no, even in this state you cut off that thought before it can form into a memory. This time the pat to your face is more of a slap, and you wake up with a breathless gasp. Stars, you feel like you're dying. 

“Stars, I feel like I’m dying,” you say aloud. Shoot, why are you doing that? It’s a miracle he can even make out the words, but he responds, “Dank farrik, you might be.” You frown at that. You don’t think you want to die quite yet. You raise your head, seeing spots, to see what he’s even karking doing, you can’t feel shit in your leg now, and see an open med kit, bacta shot syringe empty and your thigh holster unclipped on the floor, this huge armored man currently cutting your pants off with what looks like a hunting knife.

“Don’t do that,” you whimper, and that black T-shaped visor turns to look at you, unreadable. 

“It’s okay,” he says in a low, calming voice, “I just have to clean the area around the wound. You’re alright.”

He uses the bacta spray liberally, and you wince, hissing at the initial sharp sting. One hand, the leather of the glove soft on your skin, flattens on your leg, squeezing lightly, the touch distracting. He shifts you onto your side to clean the back of the wound as well. Phaser shots are nasty things. 

A nauseating shiver of anxiety runs through you, unbidden, from the feeling of your bare legs on a metal floor, a stab wound in your thigh… no, blaster shot through the thigh, your other leg, you’re not there… That must be the last straw though because you pass out, and this time you don’t wake up for what feels like a long, long time.

[thir13enghosts]

Do you think any of the women are feminist or support feminism? I know for a FACT Royce is drinking "Respect Women Juice" all day everyday

uhhh kind of? i mean i feel like the only one who actively considered/called herself a feminist would've been jean, coming from the vantage point of being from the late 2000s - early 2010s and having more access to feminist material (both from the past and the present) compared to everyone else

as for the others...

(also disclaimer: i'm going with My versions of the ghosts which tend to differ a bit from canon. just roll with it)

billy michaels: billy was like at most 10 years old when he died. he was probably still in his "ewww girls have cooties" phase. he had no concept of feminism.

jimmy gambino: ngl to you, not really lol. i mean he more or less supported women both then and now (at the very least he wasn't Actively misogynistic, which is the bare minimum), but at the same time i feel like he's the type to call a woman he Just met "sweetheart" or "honey" so yeah. he says stupid shit every now and then, but he'll also listen to you when you call it out and make the effort to not do that again (or at the very least not do it in front of you). might roll his eyes or even laugh at you at first, but he'll still make the effort. like the guy's not perfect by any means but. he's trying.

dana newman: that's a complicated one. on one hand, dana strikes me as someone who probably dealt with a Lot of internalized misogyny, and this goes for both my version & the canon version. probably lowkey prided herself on (whilst also hating herself for) her attempts at being a "good woman" which was basically: keep your head down, keep your legs crossed, keep your mouth shut, remember the man is always right, and maybe this time he'll be nicer to you. hasn't really worked for her so far, but third fourth fifth time's a charm! but on the other hand, i also think that dana was at least Aware of the feminist movements taking place during her time (the 1960s) and likely supported feminist goals, even if she never voiced it out loud. like she wanted to believe that things might get better for her and other women but didn't really hold out much hope for it Actually happening.

royce clayton: i feel like he was better than most boys his age when it came to Not Being Shit To Women (which...unfortunately isn't saying much considering this is the 1950s we're talking abt here), but i don't think he thought much abt feminism itself aside from whatever he might've heard on the news or from the papers. he's kinda like jimmy where he'll say something kinda Ehhh every now and then, but he'll also listen to you when you call it out and make the effort to not do that again. his mamá taught him to be respectful after all, and even after all this time, even after all the ways being a ghost has changed his personality, he doesn't wanna let her down.

susan legrow: kind of? like if you told her some feminist talking points without telling her they were feminist talking points, she'd probably agree with them, but she definitely wouldn't have called herself a feminist. remember, susan was around during the reagan administration; she probably only knew feminists as the stereotype of like bitter, man-hating, lonely Bitches with hairy pits (oh the HORROR!!! /s) and harsh voices and no sense of humor who at best were trying to ruin everyone's fun and at worst were actively trying to Exterminate All Men. it was very much like "tbh that does make a lot of sense...but if i started talking Like That, then no guy would wanna go out with me and i want guys to go out with me! that's definitely what i actually want for myself after all and not just me imitating what i've been taught all Normal Girls want!"

isabella smith: feminism wasn't a Thing during her time. however, i imagine she did have somewhat progressive views for her time (which was probably part of why she was so ostracized), and i do feel like if feminism as a term/social movement was Around back then, she definitely would be a feminist

amelia shelburne: i feel like amelia had Heard the word "feminism" and maybe even had an idea of what goals feminism was striving for (at the time), but idk how much she really knew abt it—mostly bc i still go back and forth on how much she knew abt life outside the circus she & her mother travelled with in general. and even then i feel like she was probably a passive supporter at most, like "that sounds great and i wish them luck but i've got Other Things to worry abt"

margaret shelburne: no but in a very resigned kind of way? as far as margaret was concerned, this feminism idea was for the """normal""" women in the big cities, not for a "circus freak" like herself.

george markley: i don't think george would've identified as a feminist, but that's not to say that he would've been a misogynist. i do think that he at the very least thought that women should be respected as the fellow human beings they are. however the feminism movement that was going on during the time that the markleys lived and died was first wave feminism, and first wave feminism was primarily focused on the rights of white women. intersectionality—such as considering the plight of women of color or working class women and how that would further impact their experience with misogyny—wasn't a priority at the time. and since both george and his wife (i've been thinking her name was ruth) were working class black ppl living in rural late 1800s virginia, they weren't ppl that a lot of popular first wave feminists would make space for.

lenore howlett: no bc part of being a feminist requires caring abt other women/other ppl in general and lenore just...doesn't.

horace mahoney: oh fuck no, absolutely not. horace doesn't see women as people—he sees women as machines with parts that he can disassemble and put back together as he pleases. literally.