#I'm completely drained. emotionally and physically

[boyapologist]

this month is a nightmare. but like. in a whole new way

[darkmothsy]

I'm so exhausted

[zweizimtsterne]

best experience of my liiiiiiife <333

about to embark on the biggest journey of my life yet (lord of the rings triple feature extended version)

[mychem1cal1mbalance]

How it feels to be underweight

You're underweight, finally.

You've reached a bmi of 16, you're 45 kg, 166 cm.

People around you mention your weight occasionally. They tell you how skinny you are and sometimes comment on your diet, or lack thereof. People call you 'petite.' People say you don't eat enough, you need to eat more. You shrug it off. 'It's just genetics.' you say, 'I'm just naturally underweight'. Covertly, you ooze with sick pride. It isn't genetics, actually. It's a lot of hard labor. You run on the treadmill everyday. You skip breakfast and lunch. Actually, you don't eat at school anymore whatsoever; eating has become too sacred to do in public. You like to eat alone, that way you can really savor the meal. You eat 1 meal a day. You've told your parents not to cook for you anymore. You act too fussy, you say you don't like what they've made, you'll make dinner yourself. At first, they object, but eventually they become complacent with your little rituals, and allow you to eat in isolation. They worry sometimes, about how skinny you are. But you brush off their concerns, immediately on the defensive, 'I eat all the time!'

And you do. You lose control a lot. It seems to you, every other day you lose control. You snap, and eat everything. Absolutely everything. You eat to the point of eruption. Your stomach bloats outwards, pulled so uncomfortably tight it feels as if it will rupture. You've heard of that happening, but formerly could not conceive how full, just how much a person would have to eat for their stomach to actually burst open. Now you can. You go into a frenzy, eating and eating until you feel sick. You went over the limit. The day is ruined already, so you may as well. Your entire being is spiralling out of control. You are disgusting. You are pathetic.

The next day, you torture yourself with your daily weigh in. You have gained. You are a failure, you are repulsive. You look in the mirror, and you hate what you see still. Fat. How many kgs have you lost? You can't remember. You can't remember what your body used to look like. You don't really know what it looks like now -

are you really that skinny...?

You think to yourself: at 35 kg, you will finally be skinny.

You feel tired all the time, exhausted all the time. Emotionally. Physically. You are constantly losing control. You are constantly getting back on track. It's completely, excruciatingly, exhausting. It is draining you away. You cannot eat like a normal person. You cannot even conceive eating like a normal person. You look in the mirror, wondering when this all started. Still fat. The days are blurring, you hate yourself more. Binging. Restricting. You can never get a hold of yourself long enough, it seems, before you fuck everything up again.

You cannot fathom ever eating like a normal person again. This is just how you are. It's absolute hell. You can't seem to lose weight. But you need to lose weight. You'll feel better at 35kg, you know it. You'll finally be skinny at 35kg. You think about food all the time. Food, and losing. Losing and food. You hate yourself so much, you can hardly bare it. You need to lose weight. You need to lose weight. You are dying. You are stuck in a cycle. You feel like shit. You can't go over your limit, ever. But you do - you binge. Again and again. The guilt is bone-crushing. This is your own personal hell. You could never, ever, eat like a normal person, ever again. You cannot possibly conceive eating normally ever again. You're stuck this way, forever. You're hungry. Eventually, you want a reprieve from this torture, but you can't stop. If you stop, you'll gain weight. You want help, but you can't imagine getting it. You don't deserve help. At 35kg, you'll be worthy of help. At 35kg, you'll actually be skinny.

You need to lose weight.

[ashherahh]

what messages you need right now

Note: Please take it if it resonates, leave it if it doesn't. Meditate before making your decision. It's completely okay if you don't resonate with this reading. The collective is huge and I'm sure you'll receive the messages you need in due time.

pile 1

If everything worked out for you all the time, how would you ever grow?

This period of your life is calling you to cultivate a new perspective of not only yourself but your life as a whole.

I'm picking up the energy of someone who has always known what to do. Someone who made plans that always worked out for them. You never had to worry about things not working out because they always did. And now that you've found yourself in a rut of sorts and your plans are falling through, your confidence has gone down the metaphorical drain.

Spirit wants you to know that you have been blessed with being decisive and secure in yourself, you never had a reason to doubt your decision. This season is just meant to broaden that, to help you gain a deeper understanding of yourself. Your being called to become someone, who no matter what happens around you or what doesn't work out for you, you are still solid in who you are.

The time you spend focusing on this will pay off and I see you going on to achieve so much more than you could ever hope for.

pile 2

Your family is very important to you. You would do anything for them, and there's a situation taking place right now, with the more nurturing and maternal figure in your life.

You are so stressed and you're taking so much on your plate. I literally just want to hug you right now. I'm feeling this weight in my belly and my chest. The burden you carry is too much for one person. You are feeling so stuck. I literally feel like crying while doing this reading for you.

This is not the first time it's happening so no wonder you feel stuck. You keep pouring from your cup and you don't have the time to fill it or there's no one around to fill up your cup.

As hard as it will be do to, you are being called to create some balance. You are such a loyal person, it feels like you're betraying them by focusing on you because you feel they need your time and resources more than you do.

Spend time outside, do breath work, meditate, and do this consistently. If you can't make the decision now to create balance, at least find the time to breath and do some grounding exercises.

You can't be there for anyone else if you're not there for yourself first.

pile 3

Spiritually and emotionally, you are very strong but this is not reflecting in your physical world at the moment.

I see that your intuition is strong, but there's doubts, fears, you feel as though it can't possibly be true if it's from you. I'm seeing the word insecurity. I'm picking up on very, very intense emotions.

Do you doubt yourself because you rarely received affirmation?

I want you to know that not everyone needs to hear what you have to say. I say this because not everyone has the capacity to understand you. This pile is a very spiritual group of individuals, many of you had been outcasts because you couldn't connect with others.

You are still in your shell, you are still being moulded and transformed. It's a process that should be intimate, not everyone needs to know and not everyone needs to see.

Spiritual transformations are always intense because we wish someone could guide us. Some are fortunate enough to be blessed with that environment and with teachers, but if you are the first in your line, which I see many of you are, you will have to forge your own path.

The Moon is quite significant to you and in this process. Now is a good to take up following the Moon cycle.

[marsplastic13]

'Complicated' (part 6) - Kaz Brekker x Reader

Idea - Kaz Brekker hires a prostitute to overcome his touch aversion, and be a better man for Inej, but things take an unxepected turn. Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Prostitute!Reader, (had to use y/n because I'm bad at names) Genre: modern AU, slow burn word count: 4.8k notes: this is one of my favorite parts, let me know if you like it!!

@millercontracting @coldmermaidhologram @syd649

Kaz stepped out of the shower feeling drained, both physically and emotionally. He collapsed onto the bed, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and memories from the evening with y/n. The incessant vibrations of his phone interrupted his attempt to find peace.

With a heavy sigh, he checked the notifications. Fifteen messages from y/n, three from Jesper, and one from Inej wishing him goodnight. Guilt twisted in his gut; he had abruptly left y/n's house, leaving behind a mess of emotions and unanswered questions.

Their attempt at intimacy had started with good intentions. Kaz had tried his best, using his hands to pleasure y/n as they had discussed. He felt her respond, melting under his touch, her moans guiding him in the right direction. y/n's encouragement spurred him on, reinforcing that he was making her feel alive and desired.

But then came the moment when she asked him to go further, to insert a finger. Panic seized Kaz like a vice. The sensations overwhelmed him, dredging up memories he had tried to bury. Wet, sticky, drowning—those feelings crashed over him, triggering a panic attack he hadn't experienced in months.

y/n had tried to reach him, her voice a lifeline in the chaos, but Kaz couldn't hear her. In a haze of fear and confusion, he fled, escaping from the situation and from himself.

Lying on the bed now, thoughts of Inej haunted him. He imagined her peacefully wishing him goodnight, unaware of the turmoil he was facing. They were drifting apart, he realized sadly, their connection strained by his own struggles and insecurities. The thought of their upcoming reunion offered a flicker of hope, a chance to mend what felt broken.

The text from y/n flashed on Kaz's screen like a warning signal. 'I swear I'm coming to your house if you don't answer me' it read. Kaz stared at it, torn between the desire to explain himself and the overwhelming urge to be left alone. He knew y/n was worried, but he couldn't face anyone right now, not even her.

In an attempt to ease her concern without having to engage in conversation, Kaz transferred the money he forgot to give her, hoping it would serve as a reassurance that he was alright and prompt her to drop the matter. But instead of quieting her, his phone immediately lit up with an incoming call from her.

Reluctantly, he answered. "Yeah?"

"Kaz, are you okay?" y/n's voice was laced with genuine worry, cutting through his defenses.

"Yes, I'm better now," he replied softly, hoping to convey that he wasn't in immediate danger.

"You could've answered me," she chided gently, her concern palpable. "I was worried sick."

"You shouldn't have been," Kaz deflected, unable to bear the weight of her concern.

"Are you kidding? You left my house completely out of yourself. I thought you drove straight into a tree," she confessed, her worry turning into frustration.

Kaz winced at the image she painted. Driving in his state had indeed been reckless, a fact he couldn't deny. "Well, I didn't," he murmured, feeling a pang of guilt.

"I want to sleep now," Kaz added hastily, hoping to end the conversation before it delved further into his vulnerabilities.

He heard y/n sigh heavily on the other end. "Go fuck yourself, Kaz," she retorted softly, a mix of exasperation and affection in her voice.

Kaz closed his eyes, feeling the weight of the day bearing down on him.

***

The tension from the past few days had been building, and now he found himself standing outside y/n's door, late at night, unsure of what to expect. He knocked tentatively, almost hoping she wouldn't answer, but when she did, his heart sank a little.

y/n opened the door, wearing only panties and a crop top, looking tired but still striking. Her casual demeanor contrasted sharply with Kaz's turmoil. "I was about to smoke weed and watch House, what the fuck do you want?" she greeted him bluntly.

Kaz hesitated, then slowly pulled some cash from his pocket and handed it to her. She glanced at it, then back at him. "She's coming tomorrow, right?" she asked, her tone implying she already knew the answer.

It was Kaz's turn to hesitate. "I really like House," he blurted out awkwardly, trying to lighten the mood.

y/n sighed and accepted the money, stepping aside to let him in. The room was almost completely dark. They both understood the unspoken rule—if she didn't take the money, their interaction would mean something entirely different. In the dim light, Kaz undressed and climbed into bed, feeling the unsettling mix of familiarity and detachment.

y/n sat on the desk, rolling a blunt with practiced ease. Kaz observed her silently, struck by how natural she seemed in this setting. She tossed him the tablet. "The first drag is to share or it's ten years of bad sex," she said with a smirk as she lit it.

"You just made that up," Kaz chuckled. y/n inhaled deeply, then leaned in to blow the smoke into his mouth, their lips almost touching. He closed his eyes, savoring the moment before exhaling slowly.

They settled into bed—Kaz on his back with the tablet balanced on his stomach, and y/n nestled beside him, her head on his shoulder and a leg draped over his. He placed a hand on her thigh, the intimacy of the touch not lost on either of them. As she passed the blunt between them, Kaz squeezed her thigh gently each time, a silent acknowledgment of gratitude.

They watched the episode in comfortable silence, interrupted only by Kaz's occasional comments about how the actor didn’t know how to really use a cane. "Should I light another one?" y/n asked when the first blunt was finished. Kaz nodded, watching her move gracefully around the room. He couldn't help but admire how effortlessly sexy she was, even in such mundane actions.

When y/n blew the first drag into his mouth again, Kaz realized he had seen others do it and found it incredibly alluring. Another thing he was experiencing for the first time with her.

They continued sharing the blunt and watching the show until Kaz's thoughts turned impulsive. "I don't know how to put on a condom," he blurted out, his mind clouded by the effects of the weed. y/n seemed unfazed by his confession.

"Do you think you'll have sex?" she asked casually, her eyes still fixed on the tablet.

"No, it's still too soon," Kaz replied quickly.

"Do you want me to teach you?" she offered, her tone matter-of-fact.

"Yes," Kaz admitted, feeling a mix of embarrassment and determination. He wasn't sure if Inej knew how to do it, but he wanted to be prepared, or at least have a plausible excuse for being here.

"Great, but first, kill this," y/n said, passing him the blunt with the last two drags. "It's easier than you think."

Hesitantly, Kaz inhaled, then leaned in to blow the smoke into her mouth, feeling a surge of heat at the intimate gesture.

"So, show me," y/n prompted, her usual playful grin teasing Kaz's nerves. He frowned for a moment, then reluctantly looked down at his lap.

"Where do you put a condom, Kaz?" she asked, her tone teasing yet instructive.

Feeling somewhat foolish, Kaz hesitated. "I... you know I won't do that," he muttered, suddenly aware of his boundaries. Some things should remain between him and Inej, even if he was stoned enough to forget that.

"I know, I was testing my luck," y/n replied nonchalantly, getting up to retrieve a box from a drawer. She tossed vibrators and dildos onto the bed, making Kaz regret his request even more. "Choose one that's most similar," she instructed, pulling out a handful of condoms from another drawer.

Grateful for the darkness that hid his embarrassment, Kaz picked one without much thought. y/n raised an eyebrow. "Come on, baby, I felt it, you're being modest," she teased.

"Why do you always have to make things harder for me?" Kaz sighed, looking up at her with a mixture of exasperation and affection.

"Do you hear yourself? You serve them on a silver platter," she laughed. y/n slipped into teaching mode, and Kaz found himself oddly satisfied with his progress, despite the awkwardness of the situation. "Don't get cocky, darling. You won't be this relaxed when you're about to have sex for the first time, and real skin is much slippery," she warned, stuffing a handful of condoms into the pocket of his jacket. "Try them out at home to find the right fit."

"Damn, weed makes me so horny," she commented, settling back onto the bed beside him. "And so wet, I—"

"y/n, oversharing," Kaz interjected, amused yet also caught off guard by her candidness.

"Right, sorry," she smirked knowingly. "Do you ever touch yourself?"

Surprisingly, Kaz didn't feel as embarrassed as he thought he would, thanks to the weed. "Rarely. Sometimes even my own touch bothers me."

"When was the last time?" y/n inquired, her eyes challenging him with playful curiosity.

"Um, I think that time we kissed for three hours," Kaz admitted with a slight flush creeping into his cheeks.

"Did you think of me?" y/n's question was direct, her eyes searching his for an honest answer.

Kaz's hesitation was enough to let her know the answer. His brain seemed to have memorized every whisper and moan, replaying them with absurd accuracy.

"I thought about you too," y/n confessed with a smile that suggested she found their connection intriguing.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Kaz chuckled softly. "Did you, now?"

"I'm not embarrassed, Kaz. You know that," she laughed softly, moving closer to him.

"Do you think about your clients often?" he asked, half-serious, half-teasing as he pulled her into his lap.

"Some of them," she replied coyly, her face dangerously close to his.

"Kaz, stop looking at me like that. Your girlfriend is coming," y/n whispered, her lips brushing against his teasingly.

"I paid you. I'm just a client," Kaz replied, trying to maintain a distance that felt increasingly fragile.

"Then why are you hesitating?" y/n countered softly, her gaze searching for him.

"I just wanted to look at you," Kaz murmured truthfully, his resolve wavering.

"Kaz, are you about to tell me I'm beautiful?" she teased with a smirk.

"No," Kaz insisted, his voice firm yet tinged with uncertainty, he definitely was. "I want to try it again. I want to..." He paused, sighing deeply as he struggled to articulate his desire. "To get you off."

"Baby, don't ask me things hoping I'll refuse," y/n replied with a playful tap on his nose. "I'm working right now. I can't say no."

"I want to," Kaz reiterated more firmly this time, his resolve clear despite the nerves fluttering in his stomach. He knew this was crossing a line, pushing their arrangement into uncharted territory. Yet, something in him yearned to explore further, to delve into the intimacy they had danced around for so long.

Their eyes met in the dimly lit room, each silently acknowledging the unspoken tension that crackled between them. y/n regarded him with a mix of curiosity and amusement, as if testing his resolve. Kaz held her gaze, his heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and fear.

"Kaz," she began softly, her tone taking on a more serious note, "you know the rules. This isn't just about you anymore."

He nodded, acknowledging her point. The boundaries were clear—they were here because of an arrangement, a transaction. Yet, the air around them was thick with unspoken desires and uncharted territories.

"But," she continued, her voice lowering to a whisper, "if you're sure..."

"I'm sure," Kaz interrupted, his voice steady now. He reached out, gently brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face. "I want to."

y/n hesitated, her eyes searching his face for any hint of doubt. Finding none, she nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Okay," she murmured, almost to herself as if affirming the decision.

Without further hesitation, Kaz closed the distance between their lips, tasting the familiar hint of cherries. This time, his touch was confident, tracing paths along her body with purpose. Her satisfied sounds were like music to him, and he found himself reveling in the moment.

Kaz's fingers moved with increasing determination, feeling her arousal through the fabric of her panties. She grew restless under his touch, prompting Kaz to gather his courage. He slid a finger inside gently, feeling her react with a gratifying gasp. He wished he had a video of how she threw her head back—it would be the only porn he'd willingly watch.

Taking his time to adjust to the sensation, Kaz met y/n's desire with each movement. "Another one, please," she requested breathlessly, her eyes filled with longing.

"Kaz, love, you're driving me crazy," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "Go faster."

Lost in her responsiveness, Kaz kissed her deeply, savoring her moans. y/n interrupted their kiss intermittently, praising him, asking for more. He enjoyed how demanding she was, each demand boosting his confidence.

"I'm so close, love. Just for you," she gasped, her body tensing under his touch. "Come for me, darling," Kaz whispered, the words slipping past his lips with a mix of urgency and tenderness. He watched as y/n's eyes opened in surprise, a fleeting moment of vulnerability passing between them before her body tensed under his touch. She closed her eyes again, surrendering to the sensations he was coaxing from her.

Kaz felt a surge of pride and relief as he felt her body relax against his, the tension melting away in the aftermath of her climax. He pressed his lips gently against her temple, savoring the closeness and the intimacy of the moment they had shared.

Slowly, he withdrew his fingers, mindful of her sensitivity.

Kaz lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling as he processed what had just happened. He felt a mix of exhilaration and unease, realizing how far he had pushed their boundaries tonight. As much as he wanted to convince himself it was just business, he couldn't ignore the undeniable connection they shared.

"You're too sweet for me," she murmured between heavy breaths, trying to steady herself. "I want to ruin you," she added, her fingers tracing his lips with a mischievous smile.

Kaz was surprised, he had no idea what she meant, but she distracted him right after. "Are you hungry?"

Kaz nodded. Smoking had made him really hungry. "I can make noodles if you want," she said. "I'm starving."

"Now?" he frowned, still feeling the remnants of their earlier intimacy.

"Yes, now, come on," she got up and changed into a fresh pair of underwear, keeping the crop top.

"I really need a minute to—"

"No one is around, let's go."

"I'm half naked."

"Me too," she said with a wink, her casualness making him smile despite himself. 

In the kitchen, y/n assured him that she didn't need help and started moving between cupboards and stoves. Kaz leaned back in his chair, watching her with a mix of curiosity and admiration. She moved with ease, her confidence captivating him.

"How hungry are you?" he asked, noticing the large quantity of things she was cutting. She smiled, a glint of mischief in her eyes.

"You'll see."

Kaz felt like his eyes were glued to her, following every movement she made in the kitchen. As y/n moved between the cupboards and stoves, her graceful motions and focused demeanor captivated him. He watched as she effortlessly reached for ingredients.

When y/n tried to reach the upper shelf of the cupboard, Kaz noticed her struggling despite standing on her toes. Instinctively, he got up to help her, feeling a rush of protective instinct.

“Wait, I’ll take it. What do you need?” His voice was softer than usual, a stark contrast to his usual guarded demeanor. He moved behind her, and she gestured toward a red box on the top shelf. Leaning in, Kaz’s chest pressed lightly against her back, and he placed a hand on her waist as he reached for the box.

Their proximity caused a strange flutter in Kaz’s chest. He handed her the box, but instead of moving away immediately, he lingered, studying her reaction. y/n turned to look at him, her expression unreadable, which both intrigued and disarmed him.

"Why do you have to be such a tease?"

"What did I do?" he asked, genuinely confused, as he went back to his chair. y/n shook her head, going back to her pots.

Finally, she placed two plates in front of them, sitting on his lap. "There are three more chairs," he observed half annoyed, but curling an arm around her waist anyway.

“Just wait,” she replied with a playful glint in her eye. “Is it good?”

Kaz couldn't contain a satisfied hum when he started eating. It was really, really good. Or maybe it was just 3 am, and he was stoned and he could still smell the orgasm he made her reach on her skin. Everything felt surreal and intensely vivid.

A few minutes later, they started hearing noises, and her three roommates peeked into the kitchen. Kaz was really grateful that she was sitting on him, covering him up a bit. 

"Did you make noodles?" asked roommate one, with sleepy eyes, already grabbing a plate.

"Yes, but you can have them only if you promise to behave," said y/n amused.

"I promise," repeated the girls all together.

“So, what’s going on with you two?” another roommate asked, her curiosity clear despite her sleepy demeanor.

“Nothing,” y/n shrugged, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. “Yeah, like we don’t know your after-sex face,” one of the roommates teased, causing Kaz to nearly choke on his food.

"Nothing happened," she insisted, laughing at the absurdity.

"y/n, it's 3 am, you made noodles that you're actually eating, and you are fucking loud," added roommate three.

"You promised to behave," y/n scolded them, but there was no real anger in her voice.

Kaz hugged her tightly, feeling the warmth of her body against his. The girls kept their playful banter going, and for the first time in a long while, Kaz started to feel weirdly at ease. He couldn't believe he was with four prostitutes, all half naked, himself included, eating and kind of enjoying himself.

"So Kaz," asked roommate one, "is it true that you have a job shadier than ours?"

A small laugh escaped his lips as he leaned back in the chair, dragging y/n back with him. "You could say that," he admitted, making them giggle, "but you know, I heard some strange things staying here, so maybe the shadiness is equal."

"Are you still hungry?" asked y/n softly, looking at his empty plate.

"Maybe," he said, involuntarily gazing at her lips. 

y/n got up to fill his plate again, and the girls started laughing at the face he made. "y/n, you should make him promise to behave too," laughed roommate two.

"Shut up," she retorted, going back to his lap.

Kaz wrapped his arms around her again, feeling a sense of belonging he hadn't expected. The strange, comforting domesticity of the moment made him realize how starved he was for simple human connection, for a feeling of being part of something, even if just for a fleeting night.

As the conversation flowed and the banter between y/n and her roommates continued, Kaz found himself drawn into their playful teasing and laughter.

"Did she tell you about her new boyfriend?" Roommate three smirked mischievously, glancing at y/n with a knowing look.

"No, she didn't," Kaz replied, eyeing y/n curiously and poking her side lightly.

"So, you are embarrassed about him," Roommate one chimed in triumphantly, raising an eyebrow at y/n.

"I'm not!" y/n protested half-heartedly, a playful glint in her eyes.

"He's 50," Roommate two blurted out suddenly, causing Kaz to raise his eyebrows in surprise.

"What?" Kaz turned to y/n, his curiosity piqued.

"He still didn't sleep with her because he's afraid she's going to give him a heart attack," Roommate three added with a chuckle, earning a playful swat from y/n.

"She told him she's a pilates instructor," Roommate one added with a grin.

"Girls, come on," y/n laughed along with them, "he's cute."

"Where did you even find him?" Kaz asked, genuinely curious now, his earlier worries about Inej momentarily forgotten in the midst of their light-hearted banter.

"I'm not telling you," y/n replied coyly, leaning back against Kaz's chest, her demeanor relaxed and carefree. "I'm not telling anyone anything, you bunch of snakes."

The teasing continued into the early hours of the morning, their laughter filling the kitchen and easing the tension that had hung in the air earlier. Kaz found himself caught up in their laughs, enjoying the distraction and the genuine warmth of y/n and her roommates.

They talked and joked until 6 am, their conversation ranging from light-hearted gossip to shared stories and playful teasing. Despite the late hour, Kaz didn’t realize he hadn't once thought about his girlfriend during their time together.

As exhaustion finally caught up with them, Kaz found himself drifting off to sleep in y/n's bed, his head nestled comfortably in the crook of her neck. 

He was jolted awake by the insistent buzzing of his phone two hours later. Inej. Inej would be arriving in a few hours. What the fuck was he doing?

“Turn it off,” whined y/n beside him, her voice thick with sleep.

He glanced at the screen, seeing he had already missed two calls from her. Panic surged through him as he quickly disentangled himself from y/n. 

“Hi, Kaz. Did I wake you?” asked Inej as soon as he answered.

“Yeah, am I late? Are you already here?” he asked, worried.

“No,” she laughed, “I was supposed to arrive in a few hours. Did you forget?” Her laugh was meant to lighten the mood, but Kaz couldn’t shake the feeling of unease.

“Nej, what do you mean ‘supposed to’?”

Inej hesitated. “Something came up. I can’t come this week.”

“Something came up? You promised,” he said, unable to hide his hurt.

“I know, but Kaz, I might have a lead about some slavers. I can’t back out from that.”

Kaz knew she was right, but he couldn’t help feeling a wave of frustration and disappointment. “You could’ve told me sooner,” he said harshly.

“I knew it on my way to the airport,” she admitted.

“You’re always ready to leave me waiting like an idiot,” he snapped before he could stop himself.

“Excuse me? Are you mad at me? You know this is important.”

“Well, for me, it was important seeing you today.”

“I have to go, Kaz. Have a nice day.”

Kaz sighed heavily, staring at the phone in disbelief. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. Defeated, he sat back on the bed, feeling a strange sense of relief mingled with guilt.

“She’s not coming?” asked y/n without opening her eyes, her voice still sleepy.

“No, she’s not,” he admitted quietly.

“I’m sorry, baby,” she murmured, reaching out to touch his arm.

“Thanks,” Kaz replied, feeling unsure of what the right thing to do was. “I had the whole day planned,” he chuckled dryly, “I’m a fucking idiot.”

“You’re not. How could you know?”

“And you? Plans?” he asked, shifting the conversation to y/n, perfectly aware of the risks.

“Just going to the gym, cleaning my room, nothing important. I’m off from work. Can you get my birth control pill? It’s in the nightstand.”

Kaz got up and fetched the small pill from the blister pack. y/n stuck out her tongue, and he carefully placed it on it, a small smile forming on his lips at the playful gesture.

“Can we sleep a few more hours?” Kaz asked, exhausted from the sleepless night and the heavy disappointment.

“Of course, love. Come here.”

Kaz crawled back into bed, finding comfort in her warmth. As he settled down, he realized he felt less guilty about his time with y/n. The ache of Inej’s absence still lingered, but in y/n's arms, he found a fleeting solace. He closed his eyes, hoping to escape into sleep and away from the turmoil of his emotions.

They slept until the early hours of the afternoon, the haze of the night lingering as Kaz dropped y/n off at the gym. His mind was a whirl of thoughts as he drove to meet Jesper. He needed to vent about Inej, about everything, and Jesper was always a willing ear.

Jesper was in a good mood, and luckily, he didn't mention y/n. Kaz spent the next hour unloading his frustrations about Inej, feeling abandoned by her constant absence. Inej didn't call, didn't text, too caught up in whatever she was doing. Kaz really wanted to get drunk, but he had to work that night. The boss wanted him to close some deals, and he couldn't afford to mess up.

As he tried to focus on organizing his papers, Kaz's mind kept drifting back to the previous night. How surreal and good it had been. y/n's friends were actually funny, all a bit deranged. He suspected that if he hadn't been there, their conversation would have escalated to something else pretty quickly.

y/n was always in his mind, and he knew that it was wrong, that they were blurring the boundaries of their relationship too much, but Kaz couldn't help but feel less lonely than he had ever been in his entire life. He tried to remind himself that he paid her for that time together, but the connection was undeniable. If she didn't think that they were at least friends, she was an Oscar-deserving actress.

As if y/n read his mind, she sent him a picture. Apparently, she was watching the last episode of their show. His show, he corrected himself, there was no 'them.' Kaz replied with a picture of his messy desk.

‘Poor baby, working late?’ she wrote back.

He wondered if she texted this often even with other clients, but his mind refused to acknowledge the possibility.

‘Luckily I slept all morning,’ he replied.

‘Did you enjoy snoring in my ear?’

‘Very much.’

‘I’ll tape your mouth shut next time.’

Kaz skipped a beat reading ‘next time.’ They were playing with each other, but he was the one who had something to lose. His relationship was at stake, and Inej's constant distance didn't help. He never had a problem with the distance in their relationship until he found out how much he liked having someone close. At the start, he was almost grateful that Inej was never there—fewer occasions to let her see how inadequate he was to fit the boyfriend role. He used to thank Ghezen that she decided to stay with him anyway.

But now that he discovered that he could be more, more present, closer, Kaz was starting to worry about the distance between them. Inej had always been the girl he loved, the only one he had ever fallen for. It had always been them, long before deciding to have an official relationship. y/n was making him discover that he was so much more, that his limits could be pushed further than he thought, and that for doing it, he needed to have someone close.

Kaz felt a surge of guilt as he reflected on this. How could he have allowed things to get so complicated? Inej had been his rock, his constant in a world full of chaos. She was the girl who knew his darkest secrets and still chose to love him. Yet, here he was, entangled with someone else who made him feel alive in ways he never knew were possible.

The realization was unsettling. Kaz prided himself on being in control, on keeping his emotions in check. But with y/n, everything was different. She brought out a side of him that he had buried long ago, a side that craved closeness and connection. He couldn't deny that their time together was more than just a transaction. It was real, and it scared him.

Kaz wondered if Inej sensed the change in him. She was perceptive, often seeing through his facades with ease. The thought of her finding out about y/n sent a chill down his spine. How could he explain that he needed someone else to discover parts of himself he didn't know existed? How could he justify his actions when he couldn't even understand them himself?

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. The stakes were higher than ever, and he was playing a dangerous game. The distance between him and Inej had once been a comfort, a way to keep his vulnerabilities hidden. Now, it was a barrier he desperately wanted to break down. But at what cost?

[cosmikazie-arts]

this past week has been a shit week if im being honest. my emotions are swirled in my mind and i'm just emotionally, physically, mentally, and otherwise completely drained. even in tough times though we can take solace in the presence of Drawing Tablet. Grins.

kind of a vent, but also an idea i've had bouncing around in my head for a while now where spearmaster finally snaps and screams so loud and angrily they gain a mouth to properly scream from

i love cartoon logic man .

[femmefatalevibe]

How can I have close relationships with people while still keeping my boundaries?

It's important to remember that boundaries make close relationships more, not less, sustainable and healthy rather than the other way around. Boundaries are like emotional fences, not defenses. They clearly differentiate your needs and limitations from those of others. By respecting your boundaries and those of others, you're able to foster emotional connections without feeling emotionally drained or resentful of others' independent actions and feelings. Boundaries are the emotional and interpersonal limitations you create for yourself in a relationship. They exist independently of others' actions, beliefs, and expectations.

HOW TO SET & MAINTAIN BOUNDARIES IN CLOSE RELATIONSHIPS:

Use "I" statements to share your needs (when stating your boundaries, ensure you frame them in an "it's me, not you" sort of way)

Share them with compassion and as a means of differentiation, not division (e.g. I know you're dealing with XYZ emotion/situation, but I'm feeling XYZ emotions or dealing with XYZ priorities right now and need to take a step back from this energy-dense situation)

Be honest about your needs and limitations, generally and situationally

Remain consistent with your boundaries and limitations, especially with your time and priorities

Prioritize yourself, build your self-concept, and pursue your goals. Perceive your close relationships as a way for two individuals to share their wholeness with each other, rather than two individuals to complete some emotional need or resource in the other person's life. Close connections compound –don't complete – our personhood, happiness, or sense of identity/self-esteem

Offer support and resources when you genuinely want to, not out of guilt or perceived obligation

State your priorities clearly. Share your expectations and level of willing involvement in any aspect of the relationship with your non-negotiable terms of engagement upfront

Address situations or behaviors that bother you early on before you start resenting the person because you're not speaking up

Express your "no" freely. This one word is a complete sentence. Unless it involves keeping your job or supporting your basic life needs, you don't owe anyone your time or energy to relationships, events, or circumstances that don't support your well-being

Don't internalize other people's problems. You can feel empathy without absorbing others' emotions and responsibilities. Remember your most important obligation is to take care of yourself. You need to prioritize the limitations you require to meet your physical and emotional needs and remain generally happy, energized, and fulfilled in your daily life. Never lose yourself or sight of your goals/dreams to be well-liked by those whom you're connected with. Healthy individuals will naturally want to set & uphold boundaries for both parties in the relationship to ensure you both thrive & feel supported without feeling guilty or resentful over time

Boundaries vs. Expectations:

Boundaries are the courses of action YOU will take in response to someone's actions or attitudes, not a way to attempt to control other people's behavior. For example, an expectation is saying to someone "Don't text me during my workday. I won't be available to answer you while I'm busy at the office," vs. a boundary, which would sound more like this: "If you text me during the workday, I'll be busy at the office, so I won't be available respond your messages until 6 pm on weekdays." You can share your expectations within the dynamic of any sort of relationship. But, ultimately, people are going to do as they please, so remember your boundaries only dictate your limitations and what you're going to do, say, and when you're going to walk away from a relationship.

[clov3sr]

Break up with Your Girlfriend. | Jude Bellingham

♢ — author annotations: I live for aggressive y/ns. I do. esto es para mis amores afrolatinos bc that's who I had in mind while making this, <3

♤ — c/t w(s): cheating! Dancer!reader and not proofread bc I'm lazy

♧ — synopsis: He justifies it by reminding himself: he was going to break up with her anyway.

♫ — music inspo.: Break up With Your Girlfriend, I'm Bored x The Boy is Mine

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ 2:22 ─────ㅇ─── 4:03

"break up with your girlfriend, 'cause I'm bored,

— the boy is mine."

In a way, you're an actor.

The same seductive drawl that actors have to lace their tongue with is what you fill every vein with, and every limb and bone and muscle moves with the same story to tell. Every fiber of your being, in these three minutes, exists as a shrine to the plot of whatever song you've been choreographed into.

It’s not really just a story, though, is it? Not when he's eyeing you like that.

He has a girlfriend.

That used to dispel your thoughts immediately, but at some juncture they began to linger regardless. You think it's seeing the degrading way she treats him, but maybe it was seeing how uninterested they looked in each other’s presence. Maybe it was how nervous he got when you looked him in the eyes, how his Adams Apple would visibly bob when he swallows back whatever’s threatening to escape his throat. How you couldn't help but give a sly little smile and downwards glance through your eyelashes. Some people would say that you're a homewrecker, that maybe you know exactly what you're doing to the poor couple.

Some people are right, and if the prize is Jude Bellingham, maybe you don't give a damn.

The story you're telling is intricate, multifaceted and difficult to consume in one sitting like your audience is doing. It has multiple perspectives, a dynamic setting, and characters with depth — two main characters — that spiral around each other until they give in to their own selfish needs. And she's a side character, comic relief. An obstacle.

The way she's clinging onto Jude's arm and displaying him to her friends like a purse is getting on your nerves now. But you'd completed your dance, and he watched. You've preyed on him with your lynx-like gaze, and he's stared back with intent to act. You've laid your bait, and as always, you nearly pray he bites.

You turn your back to the couple, making your way outside the studio. The late-winter chill immediately sprints across your skin, cold nipping at the exposed areas that your dance attire leaves. You inhale sharply at the intrusion. You could've sworn it was going to be warmer today. Still, you resolve that it's at least a welcome respite from your draining performance, both physically and emotionally. The cold air is visible in thin wisps while you work to catch your breath, and you lean haphazardly on the railing of the studio's back steps.

“D’you want my jacket?”

Hook, line, sinker.

You hum lowly, glancing backwards. He's meant to be watching her dance now, but you doubt she'd even notice he was gone. When you dedicate a performance to someone, in your experience, they're all you can sense: the deity in which your three minute shrine revolves around. She doesn't dedicate songs to him like you do, she can't. He can't worship her altar of movement like he worships yours.

"Too sweet," you murmur under your breath, but he catches it regardless and shrugs a little in an attempt to play it off. His outstretched hand with his jacket remains. After just enough silence to make him a little nervous — you can't help but tease a little — you turn and take the jacket, lazily slotting your arms into it and smiling up at him, "Thank you, Jude."

His hands retract back to the pockets of his sweatpants, and you take a moment to admire the veins that run across his arms.

Turning back to the rail, you lean over it again, admiring the glazed blue of the afternoon sky and stratus clouds that aren't dense enough to contain the yellow tint from the sun behind them.

"You're an amazing dancer."

He hasn't moved from his spot, but you're still so content with being out here with him alone.

"I appreciate that, but the real props must go to the choreographer."

"No, it's you."

His response was brisk, and you can hear a slight stutter in his next words as he governs himself to a less animated tone. You see that signature waver of his Adam's Apple in your head, even with your back turned to him.

He clarifies, "Yes, the choreographer is amazing, but it's you who brings the dance to life."

Head tilted in amusement, you find yourself swiveling around, now leaning backwards on the rail.

"Isn't she dancing right now?"

He blinks a few times and looks down and away from you momentarily. You hate to bring her up when it's just you two, she's like a dart that scrapes your tongue every time you speak of her, but you decide it's time to push a little. If he doesn't want to engage, he won't, and you can finally resign from this game of cat and mouse.

"Yeah,"

"And you're out here."

Another blink. You're on the brink of inhaling from slight disappointment in your wasted efforts when he looks you in the eye, a reinvigorated want flooding his expression. He steps forward a bit, trapping you between himself and the railing with those strong arms you admire so much.

"I am."

You're not sure if you're the cat or the mouse anymore.

"Are you..." you trail off, and Jude's ego swells realizing that it may be the first time he's seen you falter like that. Because of him, finally.

"Do you know what you're doing, Jude?"

He licks his lips, and a part of him suggests he should push away from the rail right now and preserve the frail integrity he's been losing for however long this game has been going on. Then, he catches the way your eyes dart to his lips, the rapid up and down movement of your chest, those damn eyes peering through your lashes, and his integrity shatters immediately.

"I do," he leans down to your level, his broad shoulders encasing you. You feel his lips graze yours almost innocently, but all of this is far from that; It excites you beyond words. He takes his time now, deep brown eyes scanning your own and then trailing down to where your lips are hairs away from meeting, "I think you know what you're doing too."

♢ — author postnote(s): I'm obsessed w this mashup rn,,, n trust me mis amores, we don't condone cheating 'round here. Don't be weird.

[stsg420]

SATOSUGU MITSKI ANALYSIS BY ME😈

——————————

this took me so long because if I think too much about mitski in general I can’t breathe😜

I highly suggest listening to the song on repeat while reading this, it enhances the comprehension and suffering <3

——————————

A Burning Hill - Lyrics:

"Today I will wear my white button down

I'm tired of wanting more, I think I'm finally worn.

For you have a way of promising things

And I've been a forest fire; I am a forest fire,

And I am the fire and I am the forest and I am the witness watching it,

I stand in a valley watching it, and you are not there at all.

So, today I will wear my white button down.

I can at least be neat, walk out and be seen as clean.

And I'll go to work and I'll go to sleep and I'll love the littler things.

I'll love some littler things."

——————————

ANALYSIS

"Today I will wear my white button down"

This is the KFC breakup. Today, Suguru is healing. He is giving up everything he's ever had and defecting from Jujutsu Tech. It's his turning point. He's letting go of his old life, closing all the doors to open new ones. His white button down is this new, free version of himself that isn't controlled by the system & forced to watch his friends die anymore. The tone and mood of the song is melancholic and bittersweet; Suguru has been/is grieving over this loss that he is about to experience by leaving, but the point is not to be happy, but to be free. Of his own inhibitions as well as the higher ups. This violent change, this new path he is forging for himself is the opposite of linear, and in leaving, he is letting go of his soul mate. It's hard. But necessary.

"I'm tired of wanting more, I think I'm finally worn."

Suguru is so emotionally and physically drained. Shifting the timeline to before his defection, Suguru was having a horrible time. This life he led at the school, it was slowly enabling his death. He was rotting from the inside out. All there was to life as a sorcerer was cruelty, death, and the inevitability that tomorrow would be no different than yesterday. Exorcize, Absorb, Repeat. Suguru was bone tired. Tired of seeing his friends die. Tired of not being able to do anything about it, even as a special grade. Tired of being told that it was all in the name of saving the helpless. This sickness, this rotting within him had finally crossed a threshold after Riko (rip).

"For you have a way of promising things"

Satoru was the last thread holding Suguru to Jujutsu Tech. Satoru was Suguru's person. His one and only. How nice life would've been with Satoru at his side. The yin to his yang. The two strongest sorcerers. This dream of a future with his other half was beautiful and so, so tempting. But the reality was that this future was never possible. Not as sorcerers in their timeline. Not when they were being used and thrown around by the system. If there was any one person who could've stopped him from defecting, though, it would've been Satoru. In the end, Suguru's love for him took precedence over his need to be together. Suguru chose love. Love over the promise of a future with his soul mate.

"And I've been a forest fire; I am a forest fire,

And I am the fire and I am the forest and I am the witness watching it,"

Flashback again. Suguru was rotting from the inside out. He was losing control. He was depressed and descending into madness. Riko’s death, combined with Gojo’s death & resurrection, had completely flipped his life over. His mind capsized and he lost faith in his once strong ideals. The anger and confusion and negativity were pouring out of his body and suffocating him everywhere he went. He had no control over his life, his friends' lives, and even some of the non-sorcerer's lives (Riko). He was becoming every cursed spirit he absorbed. He was inhaling the negative energy. He became the negative energy. He was surrounded by the negative energy. He was watching the negative energy eat at others, too. Everything was out of his control and he couldn't take it anymore.

"I stand in a valley watching it, and you are not there at all."

While Suguru descends further into madness after Riko's death, he compares his grieving to Satoru, who used his trauma to get stronger and develop new techniques. Suguru knows that Satoru compartmentalizes by hiding his feelings behind playful smiles and silly remarks, but it doesn't make it any easier to watch. Satoru can get through this, but Suguru feels as though he cannot. He cannot put himself through another friend's death on account of "justice" or finishing jobs the "right way". This is where he realizes that their paths must diverge. The end of their time together as the top sorcerers is in sight. Suguru knows he must leave Satoru behind. Satoru is strong enough the push past this and make a difference as a Jujutsu Sorcerer. Suguru being there would only be a hindrance, a complication that would hold Satoru back. Satoru is no longer a part of his future in the way he wants to be. Satoru might hate him, but it's for the best.

"So, today I will wear my white button down.

I can at least be neat, walk out and be seen as clean.

So, flashing forward to KFC again, their paths separate. Suguru has salvaged and remade some small part of himself. He is no longer Satoru's moral compass, he can't be. In doing so, he has let go of expectation and started listening to his heart instead. Suguru's being seen as clean is him finally standing up for his true self. He knows that this road he's heading down will lead to his death, but at least he is fighting for himself and those he truly cares for. For Satoru. This truth is all he needs to accept his inevitable death.

"And I'll go to work and I'll go to sleep and I'll love the littler things.

I'll love some littler things."

After KFC. Suguru starts his cult and gets the cogs moving for his plans. He pushes himself like he always has, but instead of saving those helpless against curses, he's against them. In this, he believes he is saving Satoru. Suguru's new life will go on until it doesn't anymore and he has come to terms with it. His life is his now, he can make his own decisions, and that is what matters to him. In the end, he had to let go of the biggest part of his life. The biggest love of his life. It was not easy to leave, and there is a gaping hole in Suguru's heart where Satoru belongs, but Suguru can deal. It's worth it if he can try to save Satoru instead, even if he despises him. He also started to love some littler things (mimiko and nanako) before he passed. In the end, he was driven by anger and hate, but amongst it all was the creation of those feelings: love.

———————

Wow okay everyone please go drink some water, head outside & reconnect with nature after this (I need to)

Please comment your thoughts down below, I would love to hear all the different interpretations y’all have!!!

[sky-fire-forever]

Happy DADWC day! How does some Fenris/Anders/Hawke sound with a bit of ❛  do you ever wonder what it would be like if things were different between us?  ❜

Thank you so much for this prompt!! I'm actually really proud of this one! For @dadrunkwriting

My Hawke in this one is Scorpius, who uses they/them pronouns.

The clinic is nearly spotless from Anders’ thorough clean of the place. He’s been scrubbing the entire area from top to bottom since this morning, trying to rid it of the bloodstains and stench and mysterious mold that grows on the walls. He wants this to be a place of healing, which isn’t made easy when the place is filthy. 

Not that he often has time to clean it. If he isn’t tending to patients, he’s out with Hawke, neither of which leaves a lot of time to actually give the place the cleaning it deserves. Which is why he takes every opportunity that’s dropped into his lap and holds tight with everything he has.

He’s no sooner finished tidying up when the doors burst open and Fenris storms in, supporting a limping and bloodied Hawke.

Anders jumps up immediately, tossing his rag away in favor of his staff. “Maker’s breath, what happened?” He leads Hawke to the examination table and gently sits them atop of it.

There’s so much blood that Anders doesn’t know where to begin searching for a wound. He begins frantically pushing at Hawke’s clothes, anxiously searching for whatever the cause of Hawke’s condition might be. He can’t heal it if he doesn’t know what it is.

“We got into a fight, what else?” Fenris snaps. “Can you heal them or not, mage?” There’s a growl to his voice, one that Anders knows well from whenever he’s concerned or freaked out by something. 

“Yes, of course.” Anders pulls at Hawke’s robes, tossing them aside to get a closer look at their body. “Where were they hit? Do you know?” 

“Everywhere,” Fenris growls like that’s of any use. 

“Did they at any point hit their head?” Anders needs details if he’s going to see Hawke through this. 

“How am I supposed to–”

“Fenris, please!” Anders turns to fix the elf with his best glare. “I need your help if I’m going to heal them.” 

Fenris grits his teeth, but doesn’t lash out again, which Anders takes as progress. “Yes, they hit their head after an arrow shot them in the leg,” he says, speaking slowly as though to control his anger and get his thoughts in order.

Anders nods and summons his healing magic to his fingertips. It comes as naturally as breathing to heal, to help, to undo the damage done by destructive forces. Ironic, considering what a destructive force he himself has been known to be. 

He brings his magic to Hawke’s head, watching their face as they hiss in pain. 

“I know, love,” he says sympathetically. “I know it hurts, but I need to repair the damage.” 

Head injuries can be rather nasty if not taken care of right away, which is exactly why it was the first thing Anders asked about. He pours his magic into repairing any damage done to the brain and skull, taking care not to worsen any of the injuries. When he’s done, he sets to healing the damage in Hawke’s leg. 

It takes almost an hour to cure Hawke of all of their ailments, patching up each injury as he discovers them or Fenris tells him about them. By the time it’s over, Hawke lays fast asleep on the examination table, drooling slightly as they dream. 

Anders is exhausted. His mana is spent and he’s completely drained, emotionally and physically. It hurts him to see his partner in so much pain, to be forced to be the cause of some of that pain in order to heal them. 

He takes a step away from the table, wiping his brow and sighing. “There. That should do it.” 

“They’re… alright, then?” Fenris asks from where he’s been sitting in the corner, watching on with rapt attention. 

“Yes, though they should rest as much as possible.” Anders watches Hawke fondly, taking in the sight of the drool smeared across their lips and catching in their beard. They’re beautiful, even like this. Even still drenched in blood after fighting for their life. Even out completely cold. Anders doesn’t think there exists a condition in which Hawke wouldn’t be absolutely beautiful. 

Fenris nods. “I should… take them back to their estate, then.” He pauses, as if uncertain. “Unless I should take them back to my residence in order to have someone watch over them?” 

“I can be at home with them,” Anders says easily. “I was just about finished in here anyway.” Except that there are now new bloodstains to be cleaned. Oh well, those will just have to wait. 

Fenris clears his throat. “You misunderstand. I would like to be with them.” 

“Oh.” Anders blinks, caught off guard. He can’t blame Fenris for wanting to be with Hawke to make sure they’re alright — he’s just as much their lover as Anders is, after all — but Anders still finds himself almost forgetting about Hawke’s relationship with Fenris at times. 

There had been a time when it had been just Hawke and Anders. For three years, in fact, after Fenris had walked away and Anders had stayed. Sometimes, on his worse days, Anders wonders if Hawke ever would have chosen to be with him had Fenris not walked away first, but Hawke is always quick to soothe those fears the moment they catch wind of them. 

This relationship between the three of them is still tenuous and new. It’s still in its infancy and Anders doesn’t want to do anything to break it. 

“Of course you can be with them,” he says hurriedly. “As long as… well, I’d like to be there too.” 

“Of course.” Fenris looks just as uncomfortable as Anders feels, which brings Anders some amount of relief. 

They wake Hawke just long enough to coax them back to their mansion, using the cellar entrance located not far from Anders’ clinic. They manage to get them through the estate without any trouble and tuck them into bed together. 

Hawke looks up at them both as they snuggle beneath their sheets, their mind still addled from exhaustion. “Look at you two, getting along.” They beam at them both. “I love you both so much.” 

Anders and Fenris look at one another, a blush rising to each of their cheeks. “And we love you, Hawke,” Fenris says in a softer voice than Anders has ever heard from him. “Now you must rest.” 

“Healer’s orders,” Anders adds. 

Hawke nods sleepily and less than a moment later, they’re out like a light. 

Anders smiles at his sleeping lover and brushes some of their hair back. They’re still quite bloody, but that can be dealt with in the morning. 

“Do you ever wonder what things would have been like?” Fenris asks out of nowhere. 

Anders turns to look at him. “Pardon?” 

“Do you wonder what things would have been like if things were different? Between us, I mean.” He gestures to the three of them. 

Anders doesn’t like this line of thinking. “What’s the point of wondering? Things are how they are.” 

“I think about it often,” Fenris says, either not picking up on Anders’ discomfort or not caring. “If I hadn’t walked out that night…” 

“Do you think they would have chosen you?” Anders blurts out before he can think better of it. “If you hadn’t left, do you think they would have been happy with just you?” 

Fenris eyes Anders curiously. “No,” he says after a long pause. “No, I think they would have loved you just as much as they do now, if not more.” 

Anders is honestly surprised by that answer. “You truly believe that?” 

“I do.” Fenris is silent for a moment. “I do not believe any relationship between Hawke and myself would have lasted if I had allowed it to continue,” he says. “I sometimes think this is the best way it could have been.” 

Anders scoffs. “Even though it includes me?” He can’t keep the note of bitterness from his tone. 

Surely Fenris would rather be with Hawke on his own, without having to share them with Anders. They’re like two wolves who have decided to share a piece of meat: there will always be too little for each of them and they’ll both be left hungry. 

Fenris watches Anders with an expression Anders can’t read. “Do you feel dissatisfied with your relationship with Hawke due to my inclusion?” 

“No,” Anders says quickly and he realizes it’s true. Hawke never leaves him out in the cold if he needs them and they’re just as doting and loving towards him as they’ve always been. It’s simply… different now. Now Anders can turn his head and see that same affection directed towards someone else. 

Sometimes seeing it makes his stomach twist with envy, jealousy brewing in his heart. A part of him screams that it’s unjust for him to have to share, to not get Hawke all to himself, but he knows that part of him isn’t true Justice. 

It’s just his own pride and jealousy and ego. He knows that, has always known that. He’d known it from the moment he agreed that Hawke should be allowed to pursue a relationship with Fenris. 

Sometimes it stings, but then he thinks of how happy Hawke is to share their love. The smile on their face when they look at Fenris is so similar to the smile Anders sees when Hawke looks at him and who is he to deny Hawke more happiness? All he wants is Hawke’s happiness. 

And Hawke needs someone there for them when Anders does what he has to do. When he betrays them and their trust, he needs them to not be alone. Fenris can make them happy, can help with the decision to put a knife in Anders’ back for his crimes. He can make it easier. 

“They love you,” Anders says. “That doesn’t stop them from loving me too.” 

“It does not,” Fenris agrees. “They are someone capable of much love.” 

Anders nods and takes a seat beside Fenris. “Thank you, Fenris. For being there for them.”

Fenris sits silently, but Anders understands. 

[hbyrde36]

No Vacancy

Chapter 6: Guest Relations

WC: 4465 | R: Explicit | CH: 6/12 | AO3 | Now Complete!

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch4 Ch 5

*STEVE*

“Well, I'm sorry you wasted so much of your time on me.” 

Eddie’s words reverberated in Steve’s head as he watched him turn and walk away back down to the beach. 

He wanted to follow, to fight for what he’d seen in the other man’s eyes in the seconds before they’d kissed. He was almost sure now that Eddie liked him back. 

It made the rejection that much more painful.

He spun on his heel and made his way back to the Buckingham alone, replaying the entire thing over and over again in his mind along the way. He was a little angry, a lot hurt, but also so, so fucking confused. 

It just didn’t make any sense. 

In hindsight it was obvious now that Eddie had been jealous when he’d seen him and Danny together the night before. That’s why he was so mad—so flustered— enough to flee the motel at the crack of dawn just to avoid seeing him. And when Steve kissed him, Eddie kissed back. 

Oh god how he had kissed back.

Naively, Steve had thought that was it—it was finally happening!

But no, Eddie pushed him away, literally and figuratively, and now he was left to wonder if he’d somehow misread everything. 

He couldn’t deny that Eddie was, at the very least, physically attracted to him. That much had become abundantly clear in the last few minutes. But maybe that was all it was, and all of Steve’s talk about caring, and being worried, and feelings had freaked him out.

Steve hoped to sneak past the motel's front office and make it to his room without running into anyone, and by anyone he meant Robin, but of course she spotted him through the glass front doors and came running out to greet him, hands waving like he might have somehow missed her. 

He took a deep breath and tried to school his features into something that he hoped looked a little less devastated than he currently felt, but must have failed in his attempt spectacularly because one look at him made her own face fall. 

“Are you alright?” She asked, wringing her hands.

He blew out a long breath, dropped his gaze to the ground as a wry chuckle falling from his lips. He didn’t have the energy to lie to her.  

“Not really.”

“What happened? Did you see Eddie?”

“Yeah,” he whispered softly, looking back up at her with a sad half smile. “Yeah, I saw him.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Steve knew how much Robin loved him, that she would do anything to make him feel better, but he wasn’t ready for any of that yet. He didn’t want to do this—didn’t want to explain what an idiot he'd been. He just wanted to slink off and hide under a rock somewhere for eight to twelve hours and feel sorry for himself.

Sometime soon he was sure he’d love to sit with her and overanalyze as they drank a few bottles of red wine and had a good cry about it.

But not right now. 

“Not really, if that’s okay. I think I just want to be alone for a while.”

“Of course that’s okay,” She said, stepping into him and wrapping her arms around his waist the way he knew she’d wanted to do since she’d first laid eyes on him.

He hugged her back, breathing her in as the two of them stood in the middle of the parking lot holding each other, uncaring of the world around them. Eventually Steve pulled back, dropping a kiss on her head before they stepped apart. 

“Call me if you change your mind,” She rushed out as he moved to leave. “I have ice cream in the freezer and I can be at your door in two minutes flat.” 

“I will.”

It wasn’t really a lie. He would call her if he changed his mind, but he was pretty sure that wasn’t going to happen. 

What he really needed was some sleep. He was exhausted, emotionally and physically drained—thankful that he had another day off tomorrow. The thought reminded him of the conversation they’d had at dinner the other night and he felt like an asshole for not bringing it up sooner.  

“Did you ask Chrissy about tomorrow night yet?”

“No, that’s…” Robin waved a hand dismissively. “It's dumb. I'd rather just forget it.”

“Robin!” He leveled her with an unimpressed look, a little less sharp than usual but he was doing his best. “You have to go talk to her right now—I’m serious.”

“No, I'm serious.” She said, shaking her head. “I’m not gonna ask you to watch the desk after all this.”

“Oh my god, for the last time you didn’t ask, I offered! And it doesn’t matter what’s happened, I can still watch the place. I want to do it, and if you really want to make me feel better you’ll go on the damn date tomorrow, have a great time, and come back to tell me all about it.”

She sighed, a heavy defeated sound. “That’s a cheap shot. Fine, I’ll ask her in the morning.”

“But-”

“Don’t push it, Harrington.”

Steve pulled out all the stops—raised eyebrows, hands on his hips, foot tapping the pavement impatiently.

“Don’t give me that shit,” Robin mumbled under her breath. “Look, the sooner I ask her, the more time I'll have to freak out about the actual date, so I figure, why not put it off as long as possible?”

“But you’re already freaking out.”

Her eyes narrowed, arms crossing over her chest. “Don’t stand there and attack me with logic.”

“Alright, alright. You do what you want. I’ll come down in the afternoon to see how it went and you can show me whatever I need to know to keep the motel afloat in your absence.”

“Not much you need to know to cover for me for two hours, but sure, I’ll see you then.”

Steve smiled at her, or tried to at least, and walked off towards the stairs to the second floor. 

The room was dark when he got in, the sun having set while he spoke to Robin and he hadn’t bothered to leave a light on for himself when he left.

He didn’t bother turning one on now either. 

He stripped down, leaving his clothes in a heap on the floor and threw himself into bed, face buried deep in the pillows, and screamed into them until his throat was hoarse and he eventually cried himself to sleep. 

In Steve’s dream someone was playing with his hair, carding their hand through it in the most soothing way. People were always afraid to touch his hair. They assumed he’d be mad at it getting messed up because of the time and effort he put into it every day, but it was one of his favorite comforts. 

He stirred from sleep gradually, confused when the fingers running over his scalp didn’t disappear with the rest of the dream, and blinked his eyes open, surprised to find someone sitting on the edge of his bed.

No, not—someone.

“Eddie?” 

The hand moved from his hair down to caress his cheek, with a touch so gentle it made his eyes sting. He let out a quiet gasp and nuzzled into it without thinking.

“I’m sorry. I’m an idiot, and I'm so sorry.” Eddie said softly.

Steve couldn’t believe what he was seeing, much less what he was hearing. It wasn’t real—it couldn’t be.. 

“Is this a dream?”

Eddie leaned down, resting his forehead against Steve’s as they breathed each other in. Their noses brushed, lips almost touching. 

“No, Steve. Not a dream. I… shit.” Eddie cursed, pulling back “I-I don’t know how to do this.”

The air that surrounded them, so thick with tension, caught in Steve’s throat. “Do what?”

“Talk.”

With that one little word something in Steve snapped. 

Eddie was probably right, until they talked he would have no idea what any of this meant, or what had changed the other man’s mind and brought him, not just back to their room but into Steve's bed, but for once in his goddamn life he didn’t want to talk. He barely wanted to think. 

He just wanted Eddie.

Steve swept his covers aside revealing that he was lying there dressed only in a pair of thin boxers and rested a hand on Eddie’s knee, slowly sliding it up his thigh as he sat up, bringing their faces close together once more. 

“Maybe we don’t have to talk. Not yet.” He said, gaze dipping down to Eddie’s lips as licked across his own.

Eddie groaned, a deep rumbling sound in his chest. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

It probably wasn’t—it definitely wasn’t but Steve was like a man possessed.

“Do you want me?” Steve asked, nails digging in where his fingers still played along Eddie’s thigh.

“Steve.” Eddie whispered his name, making the word sound like a cross between a warning and a prayer.

“Do. You. Want. Me?” Steve asked again, more insistent this time, and released his grip on Eddie's leg to skim up under his t-shirt, fingers brushing over the trail of hair on his lower stomach.

Eddie tensed, sucking in a harsh, shuddering breath. “Of course I fucking want you,” he practically growled, reaching out to grasp Steve by the wrist. Not stopping him or pushing him away, just holding him there. 

“I think I’ve always wanted you.”

The last was said so softly, in such contrast, as if he hadn’t really meant to say it aloud. Steve let the words wash over and through him, not ready to think about what they may or may not mean, before surging forward, at last closing the short distance between them to crash their lips together. 

All that mattered right now was this moment, the feeling of Eddie’s mouth on his, their bodies pressed together, Eddie’s nails scratching lightly down his back. 

Steve tugged roughly on the front of Eddie’s shirt and leaned back, trying to guide the other man down on top of him, but Eddie resisted, breaking the kiss. 

“I’m gonna to get sand all over your bed,” he panted.

Steve sat back up, taking Eddie's earlobe between his teeth, biting down just hard enough to make him gasp. 

“Oh?” Steve breathed, letting out a hot puff of air against the other man’s ear, and felt him shiver. “I guess you’ll just have to take your clothes off then.”

Eddie swallowed, audibly. “Jesus Christ.”

Then he was pulling back to stand, and while Steve sat perched on the edge of the bed gazing up at him, Eddie quickly tugged his shirt up and over his head, revealing an expanse of pale chest and torso decorated with intricate black and gray artwork. 

Steve was on his feet in an instant, circling. He’d seen Eddie shirtless before but had never allowed himself to really see and admire him properly 

Tonight, he would look his fill.

Some of the tattoos were familiar, the bats and puppet master pieces on his arm were always on display of course, but set up high on his chest just below his collarbone was a demon skull with dead eyes and tendrils of dark stringy hair flying around its head, and a large terrifyingly realistic black widow spider. Steve could remember catching glimpses of those back when the two men were still in school together, on the rare occasion Eddie would actually show up for gym class and be forced to change in the boys locker room with everyone else. 

The rest was less familiar—a creeping pattern of darkly inked vines and wild roses that began on his right side just under his ribs. They trailed across his back, snaking down and around to the other side of his body over the front of his left hip. The flower buds were all different sizes and in various states of bloom and decay, but it was the bloodied thorns speckled throughout, the only spots of color on Eddie’s body, that grabbed Steve's attention the most. He traced the intricate lines and swirls with his fingertips, following their path along Eddie’s skin to where it eventually disappeared into the waistband of his pants, letting his hand rest lightly on Eddie’s fly. 

Done examining, at least for now, Steve kissed a trail up the column of Eddie's throat as he quickly worked the other man’s belt buckle open, popped the button on his jeans, and dipped his hand in, wrapping his palm around Eddie’s hot, hard length for the very first time. 

Eddie moaned and wound his fingers through the hair on the nape of Steve's neck, gripping it tight and forcing his head back. Steve’s mouth dropped open in surprise, the hint of pain making his entire body flushing with heat. Then Eddie's lips were on his, his tongue forcing its way inside as if he needed to taste him again more than he needed air.

Steve began to slowly stroke Eddie’s cock as best he could inside the confines of his jeans, pulling a whine from his throat that Steve swallowed down greedily. He loved how responsive Eddie was to his touch, yearned to hear what other sounds he might be able to coax out of the man with his efforts, but Eddie didn’t let it go on for long. 

Without breaking their kiss, Eddie forced him back, until the back of Steve’s knees hit the bed, sending him tumbling down to the mattress. Eddie shoved his jeans down to his ankles, kicking out of them in a rush before climbing up onto the bed, cock swinging heavy between his legs, his body hovering over Steve’s. Eddie kissed his mouth once, an almost innocent brushing of lips compared to what they’d been doing so far, but quickly abandoned Steve's mouth to explore the rest of him. 

Eddie kissed, and licked, and bit his way down the length of Steve's body, starting with the delicate skin of his neck, and ending with a scrape of teeth along his hip bone just above the waistband of his boxers. 

Meeting Steve’s eyes as though asking permission—as if Steve would deny him anything—Eddie slipped his fingers into the elastic on either side of Steve’s waist and waited, the patient expression on his face belied only by hunger in his gaze. Steve nodded eagerly and Eddie wasted no time yanking the boxers off and tossing them aside, the last strip of clothing between them, setting Steve’s own achingly hard cock springing free. 

Eddie stared for a moment, something like reverence in his gaze, before returning to his work, sucking a bruise into the skin of his inner thigh, carefully avoiding the one area Steve was most desperate to be touched. 

Steve whined, squirming even as Eddie kept a tight grip on his hips, urging him to remain still. 

It was too much, watching Eddie with his head nestled between his legs, practically worshiping him, but he still wanted more. Steve bucked, and thrashed, tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. 

He wanted Eddie to just touch him, already. He needed more, he needed him to–

“Fuck me,” Steve cried out, the words tumbling out of his mouth without his permission, desperate and whoreish even to his own ears. 

Eddie paused his movements, his eyes cast down, lips still pressed to Steve’s skin. “What did you say?”

“Please,” Steve begged, past caring about how he must sound. “Please, I-I need you—need you to fuck me.”

Eddie looked up, wide eyed and mumbling something to himself.

Steve only caught the words “I knew” and “dangerous.” He didn’t know what that meant, and he honestly didn’t care because a second later Eddie wrapped his plush lips around the head of his cock and and sank down, taking Steve’s full length all the way to the back of his throat in one go. 

In the morning he might be embarrassed, worried they'd been overheard, but in the moment Steve moaned, loud and completely unrestrained, heedless of the amount of noise they were making when it felt this good. Eddie hollowed his cheeks, bobbing his head at a slow pace as he smoothed his hands up and down Steve’s calves and thighs. The touch was tender, affectionate, and that feeling of too much and yet not enough came bubbling back up in his chest with a vengeance. 

Steve continued to beg, a chorus of “please, please, please” falling from his lips even as Eddie’s mouth brought him closer and closer to the edge of coming. When he was reduced to a wordlessly babbling, panting mess, Eddie finally pulled off, working him by hand while he grabbed a nearby pillow, sliding it under Steve’s hips. 

Eddie dove back in, but not to take Steve’s cock back into his mouth. He moved lower, and using both hands to pull Steve's ass cheeks apart, spat directly on his hole. 

The feel of it had Steve throwing his head back, mouth slack and wide open as a wanton sound was ripped from his throat that he would swear he'd never made before. His dick twitched and his whole body shuddered with it. He had no idea that being spit on was something he’d be into, but the evidence was damning. He felt hot all over, his skin on fire, and for something that should have been gross, it was anything but.

Eddie huffed a quiet laugh, pressing a kiss to Steve’s knee as he spread the rapidly cooling saliva around the puckered skin of his entrance, before pushing the tip of one finger inside. 

It wasn’t until Eddie had worked the digit in past his knuckle and the slightly cold metal grazed Steve’s rim that he realized Eddie still had his rings on–and fuck, that really did something for him too. Steve whimpered, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood—so desperate to be filled that when Eddie added a second finger, he flung his hands back flat against the headboard, using it as leverage to push himself down, trying to fuck himself on Eddie’s hand harder.

“Easy,” Eddie whispered, pressing lips to his leg again. “Don’t wanna hurt you.” 

He continued to kiss a line down Steve’s inner thigh, all the way to the place he was pumping his fingers in and out of at a torturously slow pace, and ran his tongue along the edge of Steve’s  hole, letting more split trickle down to ease the glide. 

Steve’s eyes rolled back as he felt a third finger work its way inside, shouting when at the same time Eddie took hold of his cock again, licking a wide stripe from the base to the tip before swallowing it down.

While the first two digits had entered him easily, the last had Steve feeling the burning stretch that he craved, and he reveled in it—sinking into the pleasurable pain.

He felt the world around him go quiet in the way it sometimes did when he had really great sex. The whole universe narrowed down to the warmth enveloping him and the fingers inside him, and for just a moment he thought—even if this was only a one time thing, it might just be worth having a broken heart for the rest of his life if he got to have this, here and now, tonight. 

It wasn’t long before Steve felt himself relax, could feel how Eddie was able to plunge in and out of him freely now. He was ready, he was so fucking ready, and he couldn’t stop himself from making high needy sounds to spur the other man on. 

Eddie made soothing noises in return, saying softly, “I know, I know you’ve been so patient. I’ve got you, you’re going to get everything you want, I promise.”

Steve winced a little at the empty feeling as Eddie eased his fingers free, leaning off the side of the bed to reach for their shared nightstand, quickly retrieving a condom and bottle of lube—Steve's judging by the color of the bottle. He sat back on his heels, tearing the packet open with his teeth, never looking away from Steve’s face as he rolled the condom down over himself. 

Steve waited to be told to flip over, or a nudge to his hip, a not-so-subtle indication that it was time for him to turn and assume the usual position, but it never came. Eddie smoothed his hands over Steve’s thighs again, the same loving touch he’d given him before, and then took his own cock in hand, giving it a few lazy strokes before lining himself up with Steve’s entrance. Inch by inch Eddie pushed inside, hiking Steve’s legs up and falling forward, bracketing Steve's body with his hands on either side.

Oh.

Steve fought not to let it show, what he was feeling. He hadn’t expected them to do this face to face. He’d been prepped a similar way before, but found guys usually wanted to fuck him from behind.

It was incredibly intimate like this. Staring into each other's eyes from inches away while Eddie made gentle shallow thrusts felt a lot more like making love than fucking—and that, more than anything, was going to ruin him, Steve was sure, but he couldn't stop it now. Wouldn’t give this up, no matter the cost.

As Eddie finally bottomed out he leaned down, capturing Steve's lips with his own for a moment, and pressed their foreheads together again, just like he had when Steve first woke up. He eased his hips back slowly, only to snap them forward again, hard and fast, punching a shout out of Steve's chest, a sound that Eddie swallowed down as he slotted their mouths back together again. 

They never stopped kissing, even as Eddie pounded into him, harder and faster, nailing that sweet spot inside him with every stroke, until Steve was brought right to the brink.

He was close—so fucking close and Eddie hadn’t laid so much as a finger on his dick since they’d started going at it.

Eddie was close too, Steve could feel it in the way his cock pulsed inside and the rocking of his hips became more and more erratic. 

And then Eddie did break the kiss, pulling back just enough to reach a hand between their bodies and jerk Steve off. It felt amazing, but the relief of finally getting friction on his poor neglected cock, was overshadowed by the loss of Eddie’s lips. He keened, unable to stop the sound from escaping his throat, but before he could even be embarrassed about how needy and clingy he must sound, Eddie was there, feeding at his mouth like a starving man. 

Maybe needy did it for him. 

“Are you close, baby?” Eddie murmured into his mouth, not daring to break their kiss again to ask. 

Baby.

“Yes,” Steve gasped. “So fucking close.”

Eddie kept slamming into him as they panted into each other's mouths, not so much kissing really as sharing breath and rubbing their lips together, but it was enough, and after two final powerful thrusts Steve was coming hard—his vision whiting out as he shot off in hot, thick spurts between them. Eddie followed him over the edge straight after, cock pulsing inside while Steve’s walls clenched down around him. 

Steve never felt Eddie pull out, never noticed him leave as he floated on the high of the most intense release he’d ever felt. The next thing he knew, Eddie was walking back to the bed, a damp rag in his hand to clean them up. 

As Eddie gently swiped the cloth over his chest and stomach Steve came back to himself, and tried not to panic about what happened now. He told himself he’d be fine no matter how things played out. If Eddie climbed back into bed with him to cuddle and sleep it off, then that was great, wonderful, perfect. 

And if instead he got into his own bed, turned over and went to sleep? That was going to have to be okay too. 

When they were as clean as they were going to get without the help of a shower, Eddie threw the washcloth in the direction of the bathroom and crawled back into bed at his side— leaving a deliberate space between them.  

They stared at each other over the chasm of inches and it suddenly hit Steve that Eddie was just as afraid of what came next as he was. 

He saw his own fear and anxiety reflected back at him through big brown eyes—and the tightness in Eddie's body that disappeared when they began fooling around had returned, even worse than before. 

Steve pulled his lip between his teeth, watching as Eddie followed the movement—and he didn’t know who moved first but they crossed that invisible line at the same time, wrapping each other up in a tangle of arms and legs that left him wondering where he ended and Eddie began. Not sure he cared to ever figure it out. 

They laid together, unspeaking, in the quiet dark for a long time, while Eddie stroked his hair and kissed his temple so many times that he lost count. Eventually Steve’s eyes slipped shut, and it would have been all too easy to drift off surrounded with all that comfort, but they still hadn’t addressed the elephant in the room.

Steve forced his eyes open, shifting so he could see Eddie's face clearly. He took a deep breath, opened his mouth to speak, and let out a huge yawn instead, somehow still managing to get the words in the end. “Why did you come back?” 

Eddie smiled sadly, cupping his cheek, tracing what Steve imagined were dark circles under his eyes with his thumb. “You’re tired. We can talk tomorrow.”

Steve wanted to argue but Eddie was right, they were both exhausted. 

“Will you still be here in the morning?”

“Of course. I mean, I do live here, Stevie.”

Steve smiled, pretty sure mild teasing was a good sign.

He settled back down into Eddie’s side, rubbing his cheek against the sparse hair on his chest, accepting that their talk could wait, but he still wanted to be clear.

“You know what I mean. Will you be here, in this bed, with me.”

“I will. I’m not going anywhere, Steve. I promise.”

“And we’ll talk?” Steve asked, voice gone softer than a whisper as his eyes fell closed again, sleep pulling at him in a way he could no longer fight. 

“Yeah baby,” Eddie replied just as softly, pressing lips to the top of his head. “We'll talk as much as you want.”

Chapter 7

Thanks forever to @penny00dreadful for being the best friend, cheerleader, and beta in the whole fucking world💜

Taglist: @manda-panda-monium @hellion-child @dreamwatch @brbsoulnomming @epiclazershark @estrellami-1 @lokfae @raisedbylibrarians @impala314 @meganwinchester @kacatshi @warlordess @eddie-munsons-lunchbox @garden-of-gay @meela86 @gregre369 @finntheehumaneater

[celaenaeiln]

Batgirl/Nightwing Barbara Gordon and Dick Grayson is literally the worst. Even worse that there are people who ship both Oracle/Nightwing and Batgirl/Nightwing when like their personalities are completely different, it feels like people are willing to ship them together just because they are Dick and Babs.

Honestly I feel like it’s unfair to talk about Batgirl/Nightwing because I feel like the majority of people agree that Oracle/Nightwing is better but I wouldn’t say I like it much either. There are some good panels between them but honestly it always felt more friendly like the thing that always irked me about them is that there will we or won’t we is so tiring, especially when you have so many other couples who have valid reasons for being star crossed, their arguments and fears always felt juvenile and annoying and then when they are together there is something that just feels off in their dialogue or tone of the ways things are written for both characters. There’s also this thing that shippers do where they make both characters finding a home in each other or being each others safety net which doesn’t really feel true to their characters because their are so many other characters that played a bigger role in Dick’s and Barbara’s life compared to what role Dick and Barbara had in each others lives (this is why I also hate the retcon that they were childhood friends because they weren’t! They didn’t grow up together!) And I don’t care about the age gap, like people can meet as adults and develop feelings for each other but like it makes no sense to me what they would see in each other that makes those feelings go from friendship to romance other then it just does. Like all the skills they can do other characters can also do and a lot of their character traits that they have other characters have as well, like what makes these two characters look at each other and desire the other. That chemistry and desire has always been lacking for me when they are together. Like it feels like just two Barbie dolls being smashed together with writing telling me I have to like them together meanwhile I’m just scratching my head.

You talked a lot about Dick but honestly there are many things that he has done that makes me wonder why Babs would want him.

It’s sad because Dick and Babs are such cool characters but when they are together I’m so bored!!!! Barbara deserves an interesting love interest and a love interest that can be just as complicated and messy as she!

"it feels like just two Barbie dolls being smashed together with writing telling me I have to like them together meanwhile I’m just scratching my head."

OMG LITERALLY I'VE SAID THE EXACT THING ALMOST WORD FOR WORD IN ANOTHER POST.

Honestly everything you said is so true.

There's physically no possible way to like both Oracle and Batgirl and still respect the Dick and Barbara. I'm not a big fan of Oracle/Nightwing either but I like them much, much more than Batgirl/Nighwing.

The safety net thing is the biggest crutch for Dickbabs. DC is trying to push them as if they'll always catch each other but that's only true in the physical sense like literally grab the other out of mid-air. Emotionally the wishy-washy behavior is tiring and emotionally draining and neither of them come out of it happy.

It makes me mad when DC has Dick claim that Barbara is Dick's best friend

Wally's stewing moodily on Dick's couch when he heard. He'll probably be like "I made you best man at my wedding and you calling her your best friend?"

The Flash (1987) Issue #142

Dick'll be like "W

Wally...I swear-"

Wally: "I made you best man! TWICE!!"

Not to mention, Dick and Barbara before the retcon didn't even know each other's superhero identities! I think it might've been the Legends of the Dark Knight comic but Dick's hanging out with his friends when he runs away to the bathroom with Congresswoman Gordon enters the place because "Robin and Dick Grayson can't be seen in the same place!" Barbara also says something in her point of view when they're fighting crime.

EXACTLY!! They do their best work separately. But together their personalities are an awful combo and it really makes me mad.

Yeah, I know I'm biased towards Dick but the reason I took Dick's side is because while Dick may have done things to Barbara, the majority of the transgressions are against him in their relationship. I don't know DC writers constantly nerf him when they're together or why they write Barbara so awful in a relationship when she's fine otherwise. The only thing I know that was wrong from her perspective is during that Devin Grayson scene. But that's just one of the worst writings of his character that I've seen (post).

Barbara deserves someone like Jason Bard

Batgirl (2016) Issue #42

Someone she can save and whose skillset won't be overlapping. Someone she can be strong with and will let themselves be commanded without it weakening them. Someone she doesn't have to feel like she's fighting the world over to call hers.

Jason Bard was perfect, sweet, good-looking, and smart for her. He even described him as complicated as a trait she loves about him.

Barbara definitely needs someone who isn't Dick and Dick needs someone who isn't Barbara so that way both their skills and personalities can shine.

[lemon-natalia]

Gideon the Ninth Reaction - Chapter 21

no Harrow don't leave Gideon alone in her room again, i thought we got over this cmon. but its also kind of sweet that now Harrow is kinda looking after her.

its weird Gideon seems pretty much ok despite nearly having her life force drained. maybe because she and Harrow had experience doing a similar soul-linking thing fighting the other bone amalgamate thing?

and Corona's trying to get the facility key off Teacher. unless this is a really long con, i'm guessing she and Naberius really didn't know that Ianthe had one

oh shit! it never occurred to me either that there might not be a key for each door for each house. and now Teacher's dropped the bomb that absolutely nothing is off-limits in winning, including murder. things are really gonna start to go south now

oh thank god the white meat was just fish this whole time. oh well, there's still plenty of pages left in this book for it to traumatise me with cannibalism

and Magnus's key ring is missing ... curiouser and curiouser, since, as Gideon notes, he only had the facility key. are all the keys completely unique, or could facility key potentially also open up another door, and thats why it was taken 🧐

oh what exactly are Jeannemary and Isaac up to? and i agree with Palamedes here, that they might be getting dangerous. they're younger and not maybe as powerful, and have a disadvantage in a physical fight, but they're emotionally vulnerable and probably willing to do some very stupid shit right about now

[makingspiritualityreal]

Lessons from my Anime Phase

Many years ago, before I matured into my spiritual journey, this used to be an anime blog. I don't regret this phase of my life, even though I completely outgrew it, because I believe it taught me something important.

The content of a creation is more important than the form. There is anime (sadly not as many as you would think) that is a good piece of art. There are regular movies that suck. I'm still waiting for a movie as good at depicting the power of wishful thinking and self repression as Perfect Blue. These years taught me to look deep beyond the surface form and into the meaning of any creation.

Supressing one's emotions leads to serious repercussions. One of the reasons some people find anime so weird is because it is literally an outlet for the collective mentality and emotionality of Japanese societal pressure. It feels exaggerated, but it is a reaction to the external forced numbness and politeness the Japanese society is plagued with. If you don't deal with how you feel regularly and don't express it and process it, if you don't make friends with your demons, you keep bubbling like a cauldron. It leads to having a very edgy, very draining life, not being present with yourself. It leads to not being able to function and ultimately making simple things feel like the end of the world.

Getting older is awesome. I would never come back to my past. Every morning felt like torture. Sometimes, even if life is never perfect, it moves you on in simpler ways that allow for balance. Establishment of healthy routines does wonders for mental peace. The Universe putting you in an environment where you can do that, after years of having that taken away from you, feels blissful. With time comes perspective and you can see your life shaping up and taking you somewhere. That allows you to approach the rest of your life with the same philosophy. I can read this post another 10 years into the future, and think wow, my life got even better. But at least now I try to be relaxed about it and no to overthink how every tiny little thing can go and I don't try to control or micromanage the future, even if it's sometimes hard.

Youth is overrated. Very few people really get to enjoy being young and hot, and those that do, are probably on YouTube's most watched list now. Being young and hot only pays off if you happen to be an artist, you're in a good film, or you're lucky enough to be in a music video. With those things, you build a legacy you will have forever. But most young women spend their youth and beauty on dating guys they wish they could forget in their 30s. At least I can say I spent it on doing the right thing, refining myself, self development and spiritual growth, which I am really proud of. I was younger and "hotter" once, but paradoxically I feel like I'm becoming more beautiful. I had absolutely no benefits from being young. I had no good relationships and everyone irl always criticized me for breathing. I never felt attractive. My highlights were compliments from my online friends, because no one around me actually thought well of me in my physical life. I'm married now, but this is my first serious adult relationship. I didn't have any good relationships with anyone that really appreciated my looks or personality back then. So whatever has passed, hasn't really been used anyway. I was very insecure because I lived surrounded by unfair criticism from many people, who should have been supporting me but betrayed me. Maybe some people have fun in their youth, I honestly didn't. Moving away from all the people that made my youth something I'm glad to put behind me was the best thing that ever happened to me.

Being different growing up is hell for everybody, no matter what form it takes. Being an outcast is probably the number one debilitating thing that makes youth difficult. You have no role models, you have no support, you endure extra pressure. But over time, even those that are different end up finding their place, and they realise they were just different to people around them in their early environment, but they're not that different from the rest of the world, and there is a niche out there for everybody. Even if you have to create one yourself, someone will flock to it. Being yourself trumps compromising your authenticity every day.

[forthechubbies]

Dirty Hands// Cho Gue Sung Imagine 🔞 Ex! Chubby Reader ♡

How did you get here? You hate sports...You hate exercise in general-you, like your thickness, and that's that's. Moving away from your self-love for a second, If memory serves me right, You were dragged here by you're fit friend, Sumi.

Speaking of, she's looking at you in disappointment right now. Time to tune back in-

Sumi clicked her tongue, obviously annoyed by your space-out expression. "Are you high or something? Why are you not cheering or at least stand up when I do." One might say you're being selfish, but you refused to take fake interest in this stupid sport (no offense just for the story).

Your silent protest stuck out like a sore thumb...and your well hot in his eyes.

He admired your boredom and actually found it rather amusing. You could sit still if your life depended on it; He watches you bunch up your dress just to ensure you didn't step in anything.

Possibly food or not...You never know with hundred year old bleachers.

She's so snobby. He thought with a slightly playful grin. I guess that is my fault.

Sumi noticed the flower player ogling her friend; she gasped, alerting you in the process. " Shit, Do you think he likes you? Soccer player, sugar daddy?"

"As if, " You scoffed. " I can smell him from here."

Sumi beamed. " If you don't want him. Can I have him, please?"

.....

Your plans for today didn't involve waiting thirty minutes for Sumi, who decided to run to the bathroom at the last second, leaving you alone to stay put in the entrance tunnel-

"This tunnel is disgusting.." You cleared your throat in an attempt not the dry heave at the used condom flung aside like a snot rag. "I'm gonna died here."

" You're so dramatic." A man's voice nagged behind your head.

You sighed, rolling your eyes. " And you're so domestic, Watching me like a little puppy." You turned towards your ex-husband.

Gurl, Did I forget to tell you he was your hot ex-husband who blew his chances with you after a sexual/emotionally draining physical altercation between the two of you took place in public?! Oops! The tea is hot today.

What a mighty mouse you are, mouthing off to a man who has you, trump, in literally everything strength, speed, you name it.

You step back, not favoriting his sweaty smell. "You kinda smell like a wet dog -" You fanned yourself. " It suits you."

"If I'm a dog then you must be a bitch in heat for coming to my game-"Gue Sung exclaimed, nudging her forehead back with his finger.

She retaliated by smacking his heavy hand out of her face. " If you ever put your filthy fingers near me again-And, for your information, You pompous little-your not the only player on your team!" She roared in his face, stretching her heels to their maximum limit due to the size difference.

The cheeky bastard met your face halfway, tapping the tip of her nose with his; his hazel eyes gazed into hers. "Why else would you be watching for? " He was even daring enough to take two steps forward to feel you on him. "You hate sports, and you think men are stupid-"

"Not all of them, but I'm truly doubtful when it comes to you-." Yn rudely interrupted, sassing him with her eyes.

The joke was harmless, to say the least, yet a large hand shot up to her neck, gripping it into a tight squeeze between his large fingers.

She gasped but wasn't surprised; this wasn't the first time Gue Sung had let his temper control his actions.

Gue Sung clicks his tongue. "Wah unbelievable, that mouth of yours." He stared at your beautifully painted lips, weighing his next decision; he said, "Ah, Fuck it." before completely dominating your lips.

"Mmm!" You yanked at his hair; pulling away from his lips just to be brought back in. "Mmph! Im gon-mm gonna kill you."

You fought well, but god, he's ripped-Honesty, you didn't stand a chance in the first place.

Gue sung kept you flushed against his chest so tight your plump breasts pushed up to escape his squeeze.