#If someone's doing something genuinely harmful and putting you in an uncomfortable place to speak up-

[astro-b-o-y-d]

I think the whole 'Your friends don't secretly hate you or think you're annoying' thing is well and good to pull someone out of a spiral of negative thoughts about both themselves and their friends, but also it doesn't exactly do much to settle those thoughts when you've actually been in multiple scenarios when it turns out your friends DID secretly hate you or find you annoying.

Anyway, I'm probably going to be thinking about that Dungeon Meshi scene until I die. It was really so cathartic to see an autistic character be confronted with that exact scenario and go 'No, why are you bringing this up NOW? Why did you wait until NOW and insist on stringing me along rather than being honest with me? Why am I the bad guy for getting excited about making a new friend and being overly passionate about it?'

I know there's far more nuance to that specific conversation (especially on Shuro's end; and I am aware that he had some good reasons for disliking Laios's behavior at points) but also it's just a really great scene for someone who HAS had that sort of thing happen.

Being told 'oh, your friends/family/etc don't actually find you annoying or hate you, it's just your brain being mean' is good, but you know what? Sometimes people do find you annoying or dislike you. But you also know what? If they choose to string you along and not make their discomfort of the things you're doing clear, that is NOT your fault. You are not a mind reader, and it's on THEM to be clear when they're uncomfortable with something.

[vorefessions]

minor anon again, just wanted to follow up because i feel like it'd be good for you to see.

i really appreciate the advice! the only thing i'm really stuck on is how to find others without going out and posting about it; do you have any advice for that? if not, that's okay too!

thank you for being kind to me, by the way. i was anxious about sending that ask, but i'm really glad i went through with it.

🍂

I thiiiiiiink the best way to go about it would be to find peers around your age who do publicly post and ask if they want to only speak to you privately about this sort of stuff. I don't like that they're basically putting their necks out there (and I genuinely wish there was a safer place to explore their interests away from adults), and that doesn't mean you should too- just use that as a baseboard to jump and form connections. Just be ready to accept any "no"s, and if the connection does not work out or if you feel unsafe, never hesitate to walk away.

This is also going to be an incredibly long answer, but please read through all of it. I'm telling you everything I wish I knew when I was a minor interacting with the vore community.

Keep your boundaries firm, and stick to them if they ever get breached. Boundaries (to a reasonable extent) are not a request and they should not be treated as one; they are a demand that needs to be respected and whatever consequences come from breaking them need to be followed through. You do need to be mindful of this however, and make sure that you aren't fostering unhealthy relationships through this or that the other person is trying to under the guise of their own boundaries. It should never include:

Forcing you to do anything you do not consent to or expressed not liking

Ignore uncomfortable/hurt/violated/etc feelings

Pressure you to weaken your boundaries for their interests/kink/etc. This one is especially important to look out for, sometimes people might initially accept your "no" but continue to pressure you in other ways to get you to give into their demands. This gets around their cognitive dissonance of wanting to do something with you, but not wanting to feel like they explicitly violated your consent when you said no. Make no mistake, this is still a violation if they have to whittle you down to say yes. These people are especially troublesome to talk to, and if you encounter someone like this, I genuinely advise to avoid them if a conversation about their behavior doesn't work. Sometimes it's learned behavior from when they were abused too, but if they refuse to acknowledge it or try to do better, or make you feel bad for wanting your consent being respected, THAT IS DANGEROUS. Walk away.

Repress talk about those feelings. If they react in a way that hurts you when you talk about your emotions, you need to have a serious conversation about how that hurts them and you. Open communication with something as important, vulnerable and intimate as this topic is extremely important, even if this is nonsexual it still needs to be treated as kink. It can have the same psychological damage for boundary and personal violations as abuse through sexual kink. So if something happens, say something, and stay in touch with your feelings. They're sometimes misguided, but they are never incorrect if something makes you feel any particular way. At the same time, listen to the other person if they feel like something is wrong and evaluate their feelings and actions.

If they feel like they're being pressured to do something they don't want to, or if they feel uncomfortable or have a problem, have an open conversation. Encourage them to voice these feelings, and for you to do the same- but make sure to not put blame into this. It's not you vs them, it's both of you vs the problem (to a reasonable extent, if they're harming you and not owning up to it or taking accountability then they are making it a you vs them problem). Sometimes mistakes happen! It's okay, it's a lesson to learn for the future and everyone needs to be more god damn kinder to themselves about it. We'd have a lot less problems in the world if we took shame out of the equation of holding accountability for our mistakes.

Lastly, you should trust your feelings about other people. If something feels wrong or off, do not ignore that. Sometimes it's just anxiety (I'm agoraphobic, so I get this constantly.. it's exhausting to work through if the feelings are based in reality or not lol), but other times there might be something legitimately setting off alarm bells in your head in someone's behavior and may need closer examination or a talk. If you need to, do research on how to formulate healthy relationships and boundaries. If you've been abused before, whether by people in this community or by outside sources, I genuinely recommend thera//min/trees' Youtube channel for any advice (breaking up his name because I do NOT want this ask to pop up if people google his name). He covers a whole range of abuse, abuse tactics, and how to recover when you get out of an abusive situation from other people- along with what you should do if you accidentally pick up any of their harmful behaviors.

Gonna also keep it real with you here, I have legitimate trust, behavioral, and boundary issues from how many times people have violated me in this community when I was a minor. Fuck, even as an adult too because of how I was set up as a child to be exploited far into adulthood by other adults and people I thought I could trust but ignored the alarm bells of. They normalized extremely harmful behaviors and how I view other people that I'm still actively working through and desperately have been needing therapy for. I've been afraid to be close with people in fear of what was done to me in the sfw kink community, and it sometimes keeps me up at night with how this cycle keeps perpetuating on Voreblr. If I can prevent this cycle from happening again in at least one other person with this post, I'd be more than happy to write a million more essays about it.

If you got this far: thank you, genuinely, for reading it all.

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

TW: talking about suicide (in detail), suicidal thoughts, depression, mention of physical and sexual abuse, general bad headspace, big trigger warnings. This is a rant, I feel like shit rn

I've never known what it's like to not be suicidal. The first times I remember trying to commit suicide was when I was 4 and tried suffocating myself through training the dog to sit on a pillow put on my face. Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it) my survival instincts kicked in and the dog would always get down because I'd squirm too much. This was something I tried for months until the dog was removed because he bit a different kid.

One of the things I remember doing growing up to make myself feel better was planning my own death. Since I was 6 or 7 I'd think about how I could kill myself without hurting the people around me. I tried getting run over, I had plans for running away and paying someone to kill me, and a ton of things like that.

In my teens I tried overdosing on painkillers multiple times, I kept a cup of bleach by my bed so I could gamble with my sleepy brain and drink it, I tried starvation and drinking poisonous stuff, and my self harm went from biting and scratching (not where it was visible because by the time I was in grade 3 teachers were doing sleeve checks with me) to cutting.

The thing is is that I'm painfully good at not dying. I have a weird genetic thing where I need to take 2 or 4 times the amount of normal medication for it to have any impact (they couldn't do some surgery on my teeth without locally freezing it because all the drugs and anaesthetics just didn't work. They were at the highest legal doses). Everything I've tried hasn't worked.

But I wasn't the only one trying to kill me. My birth parents, before they abandoned me, used to hold me under water, beat me, starve me, choke me, etc. After that I was in the foster care system and bounced from place to place. The various foster siblings I had also came from fucked places and did some fucked things themselves. I've had multiple siblings who wanted and actively tried to kill me multiple times (usually drowning, but some choking, suffocation, knives, getting into "accidents", stuff like that).

I've also had a bully at school threaten to kill me me and actively tried. I don't know what it is about myself that leads to this but I give off an aura that makes people want to kill me. But somehow, despite all this, I've managed to stay alive. Even though I've actively fought to die.

I've never learned what it's like to have innocence or peace or to not be fighting for my life. I don't know how to not want to kill myself and still my biggest comfort mechanism is thinking and/or planning different ways I can die. It's the one thing that's remained constant in my whole life. It's one of the first things I learned how to do that was in my control and the thoughts of my eventual death is more comforting than another person has ever been.

I have and never have had any goals in life, ambitions, desires, heros or people I look up to, etc. I don't know why I exist other than to spite death at this point. I've forgotten the number of times I've tried to kill myself, and I didn't even know how to count when people first started trying to kill me. That number is so high that I genuinely feel uncomfortable around people who haven't tried killing me at least once. It's that normal to me.

I'm not going to try committing suicide because I know it's pointless and I'm too good at not dying lol, and please do not think I'm telling you any of this to say "these are my last words". I am not going to kill myself and this is not an emergency.

I just feel so lost and worthless. I have no goals and am stuck in this weird space where I'm alive physically but stuck in my head.

I wonder what it's like to live a life where death wasn't a constant. I knew about death before I learned how to speak. I was an "easy child to raise" because I thought any adult would kill me if I did anything they didn't like. I still feel like that sometimes and it fucks up my ability to socialize. For some reason people treat me like a kid still even though I'm officially an adult now. They talk down to me but don't listen to me.

I have no access to help and am hiding from some abusive people. I have no friends and no one that actually cares about me. I don't know where I'm going with this, I just needed to get it off my chest.

Hi anon,

I'm so sorry about what you've been going through. You've been through a lot, and I see you. Please know that we care about you, and you matter.

I wish I could find it but there's this flowchart I saw once, perhaps during my QPR training, that showed the stages of a suicide attempt, including different stages of bargaining, as well as instinctual survival instincts that naturally fight to stay alive that's represented as a final wall. I bring this up because of being "painfully good at not dying" as the body will fight to stay alive no matter what, on top of any genetic factors.

I don't think it's necessarily that you give off an aura that makes people want to kill you, as you're inherently deserving of love and respect, especially after everything you've been through already. There's really no justification for being mistreated in the ways that you have.

I can understand how you may be using thoughts of suicide as a comfort mechanism, because it entertains the possibility of removing all negative things. But it's not worth removing all positive things in your life, and permanently removing the possibility of having more positive experiences in the future. You deserve to live a long and happy life, and it is still possible with everything you've been through already, though it may be hard to imagine. It may be helpful to consider that perhaps all these experiences where you escaped death suggest that you deserve to live.

If you can access and afford it, and if you don't already have it, I recommend looking into getting a therapist. A mental health professional could help you process your previous experiences and learn how to deal with these thoughts of suicide and using healthier coping mechanisms that don't potentially endanger yourself. You deserve the best care available.

If anyone else has any comments or suggestions, please feel free to add on. Otherwise, I hope I could help, and please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

[idk-my-aesthetic]

I know you meant well on that post about fandom racism, but white people should just reblog posts about racism without adding their opinion as a white person bc there is nothing you can add as a white person that a POC hasn't already said (and the fact you're coddling and centering racists over POC who are harmed by racism in your addition and making a slogan about real police brutality that kill's people about fandom is not helpful) and you look like your actual concern is wanting to be seen as a good white person instead of just listening and boosting POC.

Hey! Thank you for the ask and I appreciate the criticism. I do see your point but I also think there’s a few elements of nuance that weren’t in my original addition that might clarify some stuff

First is something that i don’t expect you to know from just glancing at my blog bc i don’t really talk about it, but I run a small tik tok page where Im mostly known for talking about antisemitism in different forms of media, including social media. (Well that’s what I did do for about two years, from October last year to late winter this year I was mostly talking about the genocide in Gaza before I pivoted mostly to just signal boosting fundraisers in the last few months, so if you want to see any of that content you have to scroll wayyy back) (its @ bluepluto on tik tok if you want to like. Fact check or something lol)

Anyway i bring that up because i specifically have been the target of a great deal of harassment for calling out antisemitism in media, so when I give that advice I’m not coming from a place of someone who’s never been negatively impacted by this sort of thing, I’m speaking as someone who has been directly affected and directed targeted by that sort of harassment, both in online spaces and actually in real life. (Long story short in middle school was bullied by half my school for wanting to send the principal an email requesting that they no longer use a deeply antisemitic book as a Holocaust learning material.)

My intention in that post was mostly to give actual actionable advice to hopefully prevent that sort of harassment in the future. I didn’t think it was necessary to bring my personal experience into the matter because trying to talk about it is very rambling and unnecessary in my opinion, and I’m already a very long winded person as you can see

I also get uncomfortable bringing up antisemitism when it hasn’t previously been mentioned because there is alot of nuance when discussing the jewish experience in the western world and how it relates to racism (like really deeply nuanced even trying to say “there’s nuance” in a way that can’t be misinterpreted in five bad ways is giving me a headache)

Anyway i don’t expect anyone to know that because i very literally didn’t say it, I just wanted to express where I was coming from.

I’m not comfortable deleting the post unless the OP asks me to, which they can do for any reason. Even if they just think like “@idk-my-aesthetic is a dumbass and I don’t want their words on my post” I’d be happy to delete it lol. (That’s an exaggeration for the sake of humor I’m not actually accusing op of thinking anything like that. Excuse me as I over-clarify because of my anxiety.)

(A bit off topic but it’s kinda ridiculous that tumblr doesn’t have any ability for the OP of a post to remove or at least hide unwanted reblogs, I’ve never considered before how much easier a system like that would be.)

Anyway uhh yeah! If you read all that I applaud you cus I talk way too much. If you have any issues with anything i said here I encourage and welcome any more criticism. If you think I’m completely off base I’d genuinely like to hear why because I do try my best to make an effort to listen when possible. (I mention that because I don’t want people to think I’m acting above them or anything).

I am going to check my notes real quick to make sure op didn’t ask me to delete that reblog bc I did explicitly put in my tags that if they wanted me to delete it I would, but then I’m probably gonna straight up pass out because it’s 4:48 and I’m very barely holding on to consciousness. Have a good day/night!

[girlcalledwhatsername]

And that's another reason people who make light of intrusive thoughts are setting us back on getting rid of stigma around mental illness. people are fine with intrusive thoughts when it's something easier to consider and then they can say 'well you wouldn't ever do it so it's okay' but when it's something that makes them uncomfortable, goes against their particular sensibilities, and especially when it's anything remotely sexual suddenly that understanding of 'they don't actually want to do it' is thrown out the window.

That person thinks they have authority to speak on it because they have diagnoses and they have intrusive thoughts of their own. If they experience that, clearly they also understand the concept of not acting on intrusive thoughts. But just because it's an intrusive thought that's sexual in nature it has suddenly become reprehensible to even get the thought in the first place.

When people say that similar stuff explored in fiction/art being seen as "this person is secretly a pedophile" worsens their moral ocd, this is exactly what they're talking about. People have an inability to accept that "I have these thoughts" ≠ "I will act on these thoughts" and having a way to read and write and draw and explore this stuff through fiction can help with those anxieties. When those very coping mechanisms are then pointed at as proof that someone is "actually genuinely a pedophile otherwise what are you getting out of exploring csa even if it's fictional? If you thought about it at all and wrote it then it must betray a secret desire and you will eventually act on it" – when you do that you are feeding directly into that obsession. You are feeding those intrusive thoughts. And it really does largely happen with sexual themes because it hurts people's sensibilities; they don't want to think about these abuses existing At All and these criticisms are an easy way to get rid of it all.

And since we are on the subject of "intrusive thoughts aren't desires" - paraphilias are also not always acted upon. Even just having those thoughts or desires, even if there isn't shame attached, even if there isn't fear attached, still doesn't mean people act on them. Brains produce all sorts of desires and thoughts that we absolutely do not act upon and for some people those are of a more taboo nature. It simplifies the matter a lot more to say "we are too scared of the thought and that's why you can be sure we won't act on it" but even those of us who aren't living in terror and shame for our thoughts don't deserve to be persecuted for having those thoughts or having those desires or exploring them in a safe manner like through fiction or like how that therapist handled it with violent intrusive thoughts.

Thought crimes are not real ever.

Whether it's a scary thought, whether it's a non scary thought, whether it's an arousing thought, whether it's a desire, whether there's shame involved or not – if no action is actually taken, if no real people are harmed, if no real children are being involved then it's just that: a thought. It doesn't deserve to be punished even if you're not ashamed/scared of it because you did no harm to another person full stop. The moment you start hand wringing about it being okay because we're also scared or it's not okay if someone has actual fantasies that they are aroused by – that's a slippery slope because you are adding caveats that make it okay ever at all to punish people for not having hurt another person irl.

Ik it's not always easy but please put your disgust aside and think on matters logistically and materially – who is being hurt?

[ausetkmt]

Tender, not difficult … listening to problems, rather than fixing them, is more productive. Photo by Tony Anderson/Getty Images

There’s a conversation you’re avoiding. It feels important, the stakes are high, there are strong feelings involved and you are putting it off: “The time isn’t right”; “I can’t find the words”; “I don’t want to get emotional”.

But delaying doesn’t solve anything and anticipation is often far more uncomfortable than the conversation itself. Getting started might involve some awkward moments, but, after that, the situation is open for discussion and exploration.

Tried and tested approaches can help to smooth the way. Here are 10 useful tips from my experience as a psychotherapist and , developed while working in some of the highest-stakes discussions – the tender conversations taking place as people face the end of life. These principles apply whether you are chatting in person, over the phone or during a video call. You can even use them in text message conversations.

Instead of “difficult” conversations, I call them “tender” – and that attitude can make all the difference.

Invite, Don’t Insist

Make sure the conversation is a shared endeavour by starting with an invitation, rather than launching straight in. Try something like: “I’ve got something on my mind I’d like to chat about. When would be a good time for you?” or “You seem worried about something and I wondered whether you’d like to talk about it some time?” They may agree to talk there and then. If there’s a delay, check you are not leaving them anxious about the discussion. Inviting the other person allows them to consider and to prepare.

Being prepared also applies if someone catches you off-guard: it’s fine to say, “This is really important and I need some time to think before we have this conversation.”

Pace Yourself

Important conversations can go wrong if participants talk themselves to exhaustion. Plan to chat for 10 minutes, or agree to press pause at a particular point, ready to return to the conversation later. Remember, too, that sick or recently bereaved people have limited energy.

When you reach a good stopping point, say something like: “There’s lots to talk about. Shall we leave it there and chat again tomorrow/next week?”

Listen to Understand

The most effective discussions are when we listen carefully to the other person and try to understand. Instead of working out what to say next while the other person is speaking, just listen. Have you listened well enough to say it back to them? Check your understanding by repeating what you heard with empathy, starting with something like: “Have I got this right? You feel …”

Repeating their viewpoint back also helps the other person to feel heard and respected. In conversations about disagreement, try to present the most positive aspects of the other person’s view: it helps both of you to find common ground.

Be Curious, Not Opinionated

What is the person you are speaking to telling you that you didn’t know before? How do they see the situation? How are they feeling? Use your curiosity to ask questions about their ideas, hopes and fears. Teenagers, in particular, often feel misunderstood and “talked at” rather than listened-to, but demonstrating genuine curiosity can help them to explore their own experiences.

Don’t be afraid to ask whether a distressed person feels safe: this question can unlock conversations about escalating tensions at home, school or work, fear of (or actual) abuse, thoughts of self-harm, worries about a terminal illness etc. Talking about these fears won’t make them a reality, and it may also encourage someone to access more specialist support.

Give Unwelcome News Gradually

Rather than causing shock by blurting out news that is unexpected, begin by giving the background or (often better) by asking the other person to tell “the story so far”. For example, you could say: “I want to talk about Mum’s health. Tell me how you think she’s been recently … ”. That initial recap creates a space where the new, unwelcome information is less unexpected. Now you can add the bad news, beginning with: “I’m sorry to tell you … ”

Even if you are to blame in some way for the unwelcome news – such as in a breakup, for example – a stepwise approach to confessing bad behaviour or even ending a relationship gives the other person an opportunity to anticipate the information and manage their response to it.

Sit With Distress Without Trying to ‘Make It Better’

It’s not a bad thing if strong emotions are expressed during a difficult discussion: don’t try to close them down by offering reassurance or advice. Be a quiet companion to those in distress; if they cry or rage, or fall helplessly silent, stay present and validate what they feel. Useful phrases include: “It’s OK to feel like this”, “I’m sorry this is so upsetting” or “I’m glad you can talk about this with me”.

A condolence visit may involve listening to sorrows and “what-ifs”. A sick relative may want to discuss end-of-life wishes or regrets. Your attention is far more helpful than platitudes. Respect the fact that some things cannot be made better.

Don’t Interrupt the Silence

Silence is often where we do our thinking. We can support someone without interrupting their flow of thoughts by saying simple phrases that show we are maintaining attention: “Take your time”; “I’m not in a hurry”; “This needs some thought”. This is especially helpful when you can’t see each other – for example, during a phone call.

Respecting silence can be a challenge if there are several people in the conversation. You may need to be explicit, saying: “Let’s give each other time to think” or “I think we need a moment of quiet now”.

Support, Don’t ‘Fix’

We can disempower people by taking over – but if the solution was easy, they would have solved their difficulty by now. Instead of proposing ways to fix a problem, ask instead what solutions they have considered or what they would advise someone else in their situation to do. It’s surprising how often a person feeling completely stuck can tell you the great advice they would give a friend in the same position.

End on a Positive Note

Giving a time warning is helpful if you know one or other of you needs to finish the discussion soon. “Thank you” is a good note to finish on: even in a disagreement, giving thanks for their honesty and time shows appreciation and respect. Your disagreement need not become a ruptured relationship.

Look After Yourself

If you are left feeling unsettled by a conversation, remember to treat yourself kindly. Some people take five minutes to walk outdoors or to focus on their breathing. These “mindful moments” help us to recenter ourselves. Confidential debriefing with someone else can also be a helpful practice.

Don’t pick up the other person’s burden: the solution is for them to find, but compassionate conversation can help others to process their experiences. That is often help enough.

[rwprincess]

Two Worlds Collided

Masterlist

A/N: Oh, an anachronistic songfic from RWPrincess? But this time it’s about John Bender! :D Inspired by Never Tear Us Apart (originally by INXS in 1987, but I particularly like this Paloma Faith version)

Word Count: 2K

Synopsis: Bender met reader at the Breakfast Club and the two seemed like opposites, but they shared a common hidden sadness. Over the years, feelings and relationships change.

CW: Swearing, sexuality, Bender being a general asshole

Bender had met her the same way everyone in the Breakfast Club had, on the Saturday detention on March 24th. He had seen her in the hallways prior to that as he was always observant. He had seen everyone in the Breakfast Club before that day; but he hadn’t given her much thought. Now, he was paying attention to little else. He had no idea why he was drawn to her; they were both so different and he could never picture himself with a goody-two-shoes like that. But the way she had reacted to his more vulnerable, real moments, how she tried to make a connection with him...that stuck with him. He knew he should have learned from his disastrous blow-up with Claire that two people who were so different just wouldn’t work out. He repeated this to himself over and over, like a mantra, but it never changed how he actually felt.

After the breakup, the Breakfast Club had a split between those who chose Bender and those who chose Claire. Of course, Andrew sided with Claire unconditionally, but John considered that as no big loss. Allison tried to play the middle ground and Johnson had sided more with him, but he was surprised at the wholehearted backing he received from Y/N. He had assumed that she would either try to be neutral like Allison, or pick Claire. She had no reason to side with him, he had always come off as an aloof ass. But she had, and he was eternally grateful for that. He had originally decided to get together with Claire because the notion had a hot, forbidden quality to it. They spent time insulting each other and making out to make up for it. It was as passionate as it was destructive, so of course it couldn’t last. However, when he was alone and reflected to himself, he had been attracted to Y/N all along. She was hot, yes, but he had plenty of good-looking girls to choose from. He was more drawn to that kind, quiet inside she had displayed that day. How she had gone out of her way numerous times to reach out to him and had been genuinely nice to him. Most of the time, someone only did that to gain something for themselves. Whether it was to use him or to make themselves feel better, it depended on the person, but with Y/N that never felt like it was the case.

Don't ask me

What you know is true

Don't have to tell you

I love your precious heart

He thought back to the first time he saw her on that Saturday, walking into the library and looking so out of place. He was already adjusting into his spot when she entered and she froze in front of all the tables like a deer-in-the-headlights, as if she had just materialized there and had no clue what she was doing. He remembered feeling both attracted to that doe-eyed look and scoffing internally at it. While she wasn’t part of the cliques that Andrew and Claire were, she had a very sheltered look to her and he was envious of that type of innocence. Her ignorance must have been bliss compared to the hell he lived each day at school and at home. She was just as out of place as the preppies or ultra-dweeb Johnson, but instead of being offended by that notion, she looked terrified. She meekly put her items on the front-row desk opposite to him and he thought about all the fun he could poke at everyone here, including her. However, the first blow did not land well. Bender loved making people uncomfortable, but he didn’t necessarily want to make them cry. He’d made some off-handed remark towards her. He had been circling her and eyeing her, employing the discomfort he liked inflicting, trying to ‘guess’ why she was in detention. “I bet you were caught fooling around with a teacher, right? Always the quiet ones that you’d least suspect…”

John Bender rarely regretted his words or actions. He knew he was an asshole and let unfiltered thoughts through so that he could be the center of attention. In doing so, he had to stand by all the shit he said, even when he crossed a line. This was one of the scattered occasions in which he felt remorse, though. She didn’t reply, not verbally, anyway, but she looked scared shitless and was rooted to the spot. Tears instantly sprang up in her eyes and she looked as if she were about to hurl right on his combat boots. He backed off after that. He didn’t apologize, because that’s not something John Bender could have on his reputation, but he didn’t target her. There was something so sincere about her reaction and he saw himself reflected in that expression. Not the tough-as-nails persona he projected, but his secret self who had seen too much too early in life and could barely stand another blow. He didn’t know what her deal was, but there was a heavy sadness behind those eyes that was far too real for him to tamper with.

When he had shown the group his souvenir for spilling paint in his garage, courtesy of his father, she must have seen that reflection back. No one in that group actually knew him. They all thought he was a lying sack of shit; what could he say? His reputation preceded him. But he caught her gaze as he backed away from the group, and the sadness in her recognized the sadness in him. He felt an odd sort of click, a mutual understanding, but he turned away from them all and trashed the library.

I, I was standing

You were there

Two worlds collided

And they could never tear us apart

That was months ago, and out of everyone he met that day, she was the one who truly stuck by him. He’d surprisingly connected with Johnson, sure. Everybody likes to get high and Bender was the supplier. And he and Allison had similar interests, but she wouldn’t give up Andrew and with that territory came Claire...there was just no going back to that. But Bender still had Y/N, and he could never understand it. The first time he had brought her into his friend circle, he tried to justify it as sticking to his word and ‘having the balls to stand up to his friends’ like he had told Claire to do. He also reasoned that it was some sort of social experiment. As much as he liked to portray himself as someone who couldn’t care less, Bender was entirely social. He craved attention and admiration for others and could read just about anyone like a book. Maybe that’s why he didn’t mess with Y/N after that first comment landed so wrongly. He felt like he knew exactly what she was thinking and feeling and decided to back off. However, it wasn’t just some ‘watch and see how she interacts’ set up; Bender genuinely wanted her there. He wanted to integrate her into his life.

She was still extremely quiet, mostly a speak-when-you’re-spoken-to type, but he started to peel back layers in her personality. He found that, despite that lurking sadness, there was an unending pool of optimism. She tried to see the best in situations and in people. She meshed incredibly well with his friends because she listened instead of judged. She would nod along like she knew exactly what they were talking about and how they felt. He started to develop an attachment to her. While he was still dating Claire, he told himself it was akin to having a pet. Y/N was like a goldfish that he could tell his problems to and know the secret would be kept. But after Claire, he realized that wasn’t the case...particularly when he sought Y/N’s comfort above all else. He divulged the entire last big fight he and Claire had to her, and she was just so...reassuring. After that day, he began to see her in a different light. He argued with himself over what his feelings and intentions actually were, but he couldn’t keep them at bay for long. She was good for Bender. He had never felt lighter.

Of course, Bender had not known stability in his life ever, and the risk of falling for Y/N and having it mean something and being accountable to one person overwhelmed him. He did what he knew best: he fought it and ran away from it. At first, he tried to avoid her, just distance himself. But he’d gravitate back; being without her was too heavy to bear. He wanted to try to actively push her away, to fuck up this relationship with his words, just like he did with everything else. But when he opened his mouth to try to lie, to say he didn’t need her or want her around or whatever, he would look into her eyes and it became impossible. He remembered the way he had shaken her to her core the first day they met, and he couldn’t allow himself to bring that sadness up again in her.

We could live for a thousand years

But if I hurt you

I'd make wine from your tears

Eventually, he gave in. While he was able to control his words to not say anything harmful, he wasn’t able to contain them from slipping up and telling her, “Dammit, I love you!” It wasn’t in a context that could be taken as joking or being said flippantly; she knew immediately what he meant and that he meant those words, wholly.

She took his face in her hands and told him, “I love you, too.” There was no turning back, and as the years passed, they fell deeply in love. He'd dug up her secrets and fears, but she seemed to trust him enough to not use them against her in any way. They both dreaded the prospect of never getting out of Shermer and falling into the same circular trap their parents had. However, he reassured her that the moment they had the opportunity, they would bust out of there. He lucked out that Claire had never asked for her diamond earring back. It was probably one of many and she had forgotten she had even given it to him as a token. He decided to pawn it to top-off the savings he and Y/N had accrued. "You're too good for me, you're sure as hell too good for this place,'' he told her. The trade-in was enough to get them out of town and start anew, but only one of them could really ‘move up’ for now. While they argued back and forth about who should get to pursue which dream, Bender rationalized to her, “I was barely cut out for high school. I can’t really do college. And that’s okay. You’re the brains in this relationship, I’m the beauty.” He winked at her and with her laughter as response, that sealed the deal of who was going to school.

I told you

That we could fly

'Cause we all have wings

But some of us don't know why

She searched the crowd, holding her diploma. Bender had supported her both financially and emotionally these last four years and now they had the degree to prove it. She felt pride in being able to take over from him and let him follow a new path. He had always been good with his hands, but despite his protests, he was good with his mind too. He was a sharp-thinker and she knew that he could make a career that he loved out of that. She’d be there to push and brace him as he had done for her. Finally, she spotted him. When their eyes connected, she felt that same crackle that she had the first day they had met, all those years ago. Before the friendship and the love, she knew there was a spark there, that they were two of a kind, even though they were so different.

I, I was standing

You were there

Two worlds collided

And they could never tear us apart

[silvr-skreen]

Half Past Twelve

A humanformers SG! Fic which exploded into being something bigger than I expected it to and absolutely obliterated me every step of the way!

Humanformers!SG! belongs to @cirilee and Oracle is mine <3

//Also features a head canon about Soundwave speaking and how I think he would speak w/o mask and visor. Also someone put these poor boys to bed lol

He didn't mean to. He never meant to. But Cliffjumper was there and hurting him and it was so easy to make it stop, and he wasn't thinking straight because he could hardly breathe.

And the next thing he knew there was a dead body on the floor and his wrists were bruised up and down from the force that came with choking him out on the chain of his cuffs. Dove tried to press himself against the floor and melt into it, to disappear from sight forever because he was going to suffer for this. Cliffjumper probably would have stopped hurting him eventually, but now he'd been stopped for good.

It was very cold, and the room felt very, very, empty.

"My dear?" Megatron's voice was soft, and it took Dove a sleepy second or two to realize he was not in the cage, or the autobot base, but instead safely back on the Nemesis. He was also on the floor, just because it was too hard to get used to sleeping in a proper bed again right away.

The floor was more comfortable because in a pathetic way, it felt like home.

"Y.... yes?" His voice was hoarse, and he winced silently from the disuse.

"Are you alright?"

"Bad dream."

"Ah," Megatron looked at him, features soft and loving, but not pitying. Megatron never pitied him, or Shockwave, or anybody. He worried about them, but it was in the way that you worried about a house burning down - he knew they were strong and never underestimated them - rather than a flower losing its petals.

Shockwave was... coping. He assumed the scientist was anyways. He never saw very much of Shockwave anymore, unless seeing his back as he turned a corner counted.

"Do you want to talk about it? Or would you like me to make you a warm drink?"

Dove paused, staring at his hands, unbruised but still tingly in the wake of the nightmare. He stood up slowly and shakily, and Megatron silently followed.

The Nemesis was quiet, which made since as most were sleeping by now. With the war as over as it could be - the Prime was gone and the other autobots who refused to even consider compassion silently licking their wounds and their pride - the Nemesis no longer felt like a protection, but a home. The light flickered in the canteen's kitchen - merrily so, perhaps - and Dove smiled faintly into his cup.

Warm drinks may have irritated his throat at first, getting used to them again rather than lukewarm broths, but they were soothing and felt like a hug. The smiled faded.

"Dove... would you care to sit with me?" A genuine question.

Those were hard to wrap his head around too, since every question the autobots ever asked always had two meanings. Nothing was genuine, everything was a ruse. Not here, not anymore. He nodded timidly and sat at one of the long tables, just across from Megatron.

Not wanting to intrude or to poke and prod until Dove was uncomfortable, Megatron let him take the reins. He just didn't know where to begin.

"It was... Cliffjumper," felt like a good place to start, "I had a dream... about Cliffjumper."

Megatron could vaguely picture the short redheaded soldier with the hateful glare and the busted lip. He could not, however, restrain himself from grimacing at the thought.

"He didn't harm you... did he?"

"Only once." Dove rubbed his thumb over the back of his hand and stared into his mug. "I hurt him back. Worse."

He was whispering, not only because his voice still wasn't used to talking so much, but because he was afraid. Being afraid was so pointless though, because it was over.

It was all over. As soon as Predaking killed the Prime in the last battle it came to a gruesome bloody end, and they could move on. They'd get back up and continue forward in the only way they knew how. Slowly and painfully.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Megatron was speaking slowly, both hands cupping his mug as he tried to suppress a silent yawn.

Dove shook his head. He knew he could talk about it; he was allowed to; he wouldn't be punished but he... he couldn't. There was an almost invisible wall, so thin it didn't feel like anything at all, covering his mouth and blocking the words so they couldn't escape. It was just easier not to fight it.

The sound of a door quietly, slowly, creaking open was enough to draw both from their thoughts. Megatron rose to stand, in the event that worst case scenarios may have been happening. They shouldn't but fuck he wasn't taking any chances.

Of course, it was Soundwave, slinking in quietly. He'd taken off his mask and visor - he thought he'd be alone, judging from how quickly he attempted to obscure his face - and he too seemed to be restless. Megatron calmed, and relaxed back down from his anxious high.

"Soundwave, it's late. What are you doing awake?"

The quiet third said nothing, but turned to look at them, hand slowly lowering - Dove could see the wounds inflicted by the mad doctor in the past, a very long time ago, but still scarred over, as if untouched by time - back to his side. His expression too, was soft, but plagued by a quiet disturbance.

He shifted his weight from leg to leg before deliberating and trying to clear his throat. Soundwave spoke less and less since that day, much like Dove, much like Shockwave. The autobots kept them quiet.

"Couldn't. Sleep." He settled on, short and to the point.

"Ah, perhaps you'd like to join us then?"

Soundwave was considering his next thoughts, how to word them, when another face peered round the doorway. The clicking and grinding were enough of a giveaway to make him known even before he could be seen.

"Shockwave, you're awake too?"

"It's like a party." Dove smiled faintly, once again rubbing his thumb over the back of his hand.

"Yes." Soundwave looked over in the direction of the fourth.

Shockwave was tall now. He'd never been tall before but when he'd been captured - escaped after Dove did, no less - Ratchet the Hatchet had ideas on how to enhance soldiers and figured that testing it out on a pacifistic scientist with no real field experience was better than on Dove who'd killed at least one person before.

He was angular too. His hands now claws, sharp and dangerous, with the slightest impression of his metal spine creating prominent bumps on the back of his sweater. His legs made wearing normal pants near impossible so he'd been forced to settle on shorts - fabric really only worked on legs with one joint, and which weren't reinforced steel. Who knew?

"It's late, you two should be resting."

"You two. Resting." Soundwave retorted, leaning against the counter, and gently scratching Shockwave's shoulder blades.

"I uhm... had a nightmare. I'm sorry."

"Not your fault."

Soundwave was shaking his head; it wasn't his fault. It was so bizarre because it had been his fault. Everything had been his fault. And here was someone telling him to his face that it wasn't.

"He's right you know. Nightmares happen to the best of us." Megatron was speaking quietly, in part to give Shockwave and Soundwave their weird affectionate time, and in part to be compassionate to him. To him.

"I've had them before too, and they aren't moral failings. They're part of what it means to exist. They don't make you a bad person, even if you're the bad person in the nightmare. They're just your mind trying to make sense of the world.

"Sometimes your mind just gets confused and mixes up all the events. And that's okay."

Dove paused, staring at the table and still, for all the world, feeling like Megatron wasn't correct. He did kill Cliffjumper, and no matter how nice he tried to be to himself, how much he tried to get better he just kept slipping backwards and making mistakes.

Maybe he was the mistake.

"No."

Soundwave, quiet and introverted he may be, could still command a room if the need arose.

"You're...not. No."

He sounded certain of himself. His own voice hoarse, but there were tears in the corners of his eyes. Shockwave was looking between them both and trying to puzzle out where this was coming from, a claw gently tap-tap-tapping on Soundwave's shoulder.

"I'm not saying that it's just very hard to make progress, and sometimes I do wish it weren't so."

"Your thoughts. Obvious." Soundwave may have been smiling, trying to banter with him for old times' sake, though he looked like he may have been on the verge of crying for real.

"Hmph... I don't think that loudly." His wit wasn't quite acidic any longer, but it seemed to work. Especially so when he quietly patted the spot next to him.

They found themselves sitting there and talking quietly about nightmares and coping strategies, and all the drama on the Nemesis - most of which was really just speculation about Knockout and Breakdown's attempts to co-parent even if they weren't in a relationship any longer, and that time Breakdown tried to help him and managed to trip over air. It was somewhat funny in retrospect.

Shockwave and Soundwave were - like Dove and Megatron - seated across from one another, and Soundwave was very gently holding onto Shockwave's claws, thumbing the joints where rust was gathering.

-

None of them remembered exactly how they spent a good three hours speaking in the canteen, nor how the next four hours were spent sleeping sitting down. But they did remember a bleary return to the waking world at seven thirty.

Specifically, because Shockwave's son - Dove recalled, distantly, Arcee once calling him spawn and very nearly getting her face re-arranged for the trouble - tiptoed in and tried to sneak past to take the empty mugs so he could wash them, only for Shockwave to jolt awake, kick the underside of the table, and for everybody to be awake afterwards.

At least nobody was hurt, and it was a very momentary startle, besides, he'd been trying to help.

"Mornin' guppy."

"Oh, good morning... sorry to wake you guys." He gave a very meek smile, and if you didn't look too hard you could mistake his face for completely human, which was odd because much of his genealogy actually came from sharks. Dove was, however not one to question that.

Besides, any wider a smile and you could actually see his teeth and realize that no, he wasn't quite human.

"It's alright, you were just helpin out." Shockwave sounded so casual, and it wasn't hard to see why. In spite of the shark genes, he was docile as could be, much preferring to be with the Decepticons rather than hunt fish, or people.

Oracle's face turned a bizarre shade of blue and he squeaked out a response before rounding the corner and disappearing into the kitchen.

"Cute kid." Dove said with the tiniest of smirks.

"Shockwave's. That's why." Soundwave retorted with a grin of his own.

[notabled-noodle]

First off, I'm sorry if I'm overstepping or misunderstanding you!

This is mainly in response to the discussion about delusions of control and psychosis in general.

First off, I'm honestly extremely curious about psychosis in OCD. The curiosity is highly personal. I'm a person who has struggled with obsessive compulsive symptoms my whole life, but upon my first contact with psychiatry, I was most obviously psychotic. As a result I ended up with a schizophrenia diagnosis.

Subsequently I would bring up obsessive-compulsive issues with my psychs, but I was always told that "they are a part of the schizophrenia symptom picture for you"...

Now obviously, I'm not a big believer in diagnostic precision, but it's one of those things that have always bothered me.

Perhaps especially so, because while psychiatry have always been awfully concerned with my psychosis, personally, it is often the obsessive compulsive element that harms me the most. And in that way, I ended up feeling somewhat dismissed on that element of my experience..

Anyways, perhaps related to this, I feel compelled to spell out to you that your experience with psychosis is ... For lack of a better term, "valid".. but more importantly, I guess what I want to say is that even if you have not been diagnosed with a classic psychotic disorder, or been put on antipsychotics, this does not make your genuine experiences of this kind any less worthy of concern and care.

I relate a lot to the matter with the ghosts. Not in a literal sense, but on the level of how psychotic experiences can trigger compulsive and obsessive behaviours/thoughts, and at least for me, also the other way around.

The way you describe losing control of your body does sound very textbook delusion of control to me. But maybe someone with different experiences can weigh in with a dissociative explanation? (And again, perhaps, the two are/can be more connected than we know)

In any case, it sounds really really uncomfortable, and I'm sorry it's been happening to you.

A general note on the subject of dissociation in your case, which might be helpful knowledge, is that dissociation is strongly related to/expected in people with psychosis. I've talked to a lot of psychotic people over the years, and it's very much a stable for most, if not all, of us..

Adding further on to that train of thought, I would refer you to look into self-disorder/ipseity disturbance.

"Basic self-disturbance refers to a disruption of the sense of ownership of experience and agency of action and is associated with a variety of anomalous subjective experiences."

Self disturbance is associated with psychosis generally, but particularly with the schizo spec disorders, including sub-psychosis-threshold disorders like schizotypal pd.

(For various reasons, partially it's focus on phenomenology, this line of study is not super popular in America and other English speaking countries... At least a lot of the stuff I've come across on the matter, I read in German or Danish... But I'm sure there is info out there nevertheless)

Self-disorder is common in the prodromal phase of psychotic disorders.

I'm not saying this to scare you at all, and I really hope it does not come across that way.. I mean, if you ask me, psychotic people are the coolest people on earth, so you know :P ... Not to mention that just because this or that is strongly correlated to something, it doesn't mean that the thing can't just be on its own :)

I'm saying it mainly because you seem like someone who likes to see yourself reflected in words.. and I know that the concept of self-disorder clicked a lot of things into place for me, personally.

I have a bunch of experiences, and sometimes I understand them through the lens of psychosis, sometimes self disturbance, sometimes dissociation. All of these perspectives help me make a kind of.. fragmented sense out of my reality. In a matter as complex as the human mind, I feel like it makes sense, that we do not have to have a unified theory... At least not yet.

(Too often clinicians and patients alike mistake a diagnostic label for one such unified theory..

Aka I "have schizophrenia", so now, all potentially disordered experiences of mine must be caused by this. And for this reason getting another diagnosis, or even losing an old one, can cause a total paradigm shift.. as suddenly all your symptoms are understood in this new light.

In my opinion this is "wrong", in the sense that the name does not dictate the experience, and the experience only partially dictates the name).

So I think it's pretty ok not to have a unified explanation for any one experience, and rather to pick and choose what makes sense and what helps you cope in any given moment.

... This ended up super rambly... Again... I'm sorry ^^"

hi again! as always, thanks for taking the time to write all this out — I really appreciate it

as far as I understand it, OCD is kind of on a spectrum that includes psychosis. obsessions can turn into delusions, and intrusive images can become vivid enough that they become hallucinations. in the DSM, it’s like… you can get diagnosed with an amount of “insight” where zero insight = (or can be) psychosis.

because my psychosis is mild, the treatment I’ve had in the past hasn’t really navigated that part of my experience. the bigger thing is the regular ERP stuff — cutting down on the need to do compulsions in order to cut down the anxiety and obsessive thinking etc etc. I would seek further treatment, but it’s so hard to find a specialist who understands the nuances of psychotic OCD so I am currently receiving zero treatment and zero medication (woop woop). all this to say — thank you for your kind words amongst what has been a challenging time to navigate alone

I also understand what you mean about being put in the schizophrenia box (but from the other direction, I suppose). the psychosis for me comes secondary to the OCD and anxiety, so it kind of gets pushed aside. it’s not great, but it’s not something I know how to navigate so I try not to worry about it too much

self-disorder does resonate with me! I don’t know how to feel about all this, but thanks for providing me with a potential group of words to label my experiences, and also something new to research.

thanks again! you’ve been super helpful! :)

[cinnamonest]

Yandere Kaeya Alberich

Words: 3,162

Tws: General yandere content, Kaeya being a dick

Summary: You’ve been trying to avoid the Favonius captain. He’s convinced you’re unsafe without him. If you don’t believe that, he’ll prove it to you.

"Traveler."

Your muscles tensed. The hairs on your skin raised up. How?

You turned your head towards the voice, a strained smile across your face. "Captain Kaeya!" You pushed with all your effort to make your voice sound pleasantly surprised, excited, sing-songy in the way anyone who knew you would expect upon being greeted with a familiar face. "What are you doing so far out?" You said it so very playfully, casually, as if it was a casual conversation maker and not a genuine question that burned in your mind.

What the hell was he doing so far out of his jurisdiction? What need does he have to be out all the way in Liyue?

Why did he have to show up when you specifically went out of your way to avoid him?

"Oh, I was looking for you. Asked around. Heard you were hanging around the area," He said, pulling out a chair and sitting in front of you, effectively cornering you in your little spot in the corner of the small tavern. He smiled, folding his hands together and resting his chin on them. "I just sent a couple knights out to look for you."

He made no effort to even try to hide it. He was completely shameless. That explained the Favonius knight that had appeared in the tavern earlier - you'd felt uneasy as you saw the man gaze around, halting when he made eye contact with you, before abruptly stepping out as quickly as he'd come in. You should have trusted your gut and left as soon as you could - but here you were.

When you'd first met Kaeya, you'd admired the young captain. He was brave, skilled, charming, and undeniably a very attractive man. His charisma made him a well-respected, well-liked person throughout Mondstadt, even if his reputation did include an arrogance that was just as well-known as his skill.

That was the issue - you'd noticed that trait, that one characteristic about the man that made you uneasy, that upset you so greatly that you had resolved to avoid him entirely. Well, three traits.

One, he was obsessive, clingy, attached to a degree far too unnatural for someone who had known you for such a short time.

Two, Kaeya was a little overly touchy. It was just on the border of your discomfort, too noticeable for you to feel okay with it, but too mild to feel justified in confronting him about it. Everywhere you went with him, you could always feel his hands somewhere on your person.

And three, Kaeya was perhaps the most condescending, self-righteous person you'd ever met. He was always, always right. You never knew what you were talking about. He always knew better. He was always smarter, you were always dumber. Or so he seemed to believe. You'd grown to be increasingly irked, insulted whenever he would treat you like some naive idiot, reminding you how you, some foreigner, had no grasp on reality in this world. Really, you were hopeless, you really should let him stay by your side, help your poor naive little self navigate the world, since you were so incapable on your own.

"Oh," you finally responded, snapping out of your thoughts, smile straining, trying to come up with some response to the utterly creepy truth he'd been so shameless to reveal. "Yeah, I came out here for a few days. Really, uh, pretty area."

"Mm. That it is. This place attracts a good deal of tourists," he tilted his head. "The route here is... Particularly dangerous, though. You didn't travel here all by yourself, did you?" His eye contact was unwavering, and you found yourself breaking away, opting to gaze downward. "Or were you... Accompanied?"

"Ah, I came here by myself," you answered. "I didn't encounter any dangers... Outside a few hilichurls."

"Hilichurls are responsible for quite a few deaths in the area. You shouldn't underestimate them," he remarked. "Really, that's an unwise decision, coming here alone... You really should have sought some protection."

"Oh, I'm pretty good with a sword. I can take care of myself."

He laughed, shaking his head. "Is that so?" His voice was amused. Condescending. As if you were a child, some little kid insisting on your competence. "I'm sure you'd fare well, if you found yourself surrounded by them. Or worse," his voice darkened, "some... Other forces. Plenty of bandits and other criminals walk the roads in the Mondstat region."

Isn't it your and your knights' job to deal with that?

"O-oh, I see. Well, it's a good thing I didn't run across any of those..."

"Yes, it is." The blunt statement left you feeling your stomach churn with awkward silence that followed. The undertone - the clear hint of frustration - of his voice made you shiver. "They could easily catch you off guard..."

You'd left Mondstadt almost solely to get away from him for a few days. You needed some respite. The irritation in you boiled over ever so slightly. "It's ok, I'm pretty sharp. I'm always on guard."

Since meeting him, Kaeya had been attached to you virtually every waking moment of the day - no, he insisted on being near when you slept, too. On the very day of your arrival, he'd insisted you sleep in the knight headquarters, despite how many times you repeated that an inn was perfectly suitable. It was safer, he claimed. Safest in the little spare room just down the hall from his own, where he could come check on you before you settled down for the night. The first time, you'd been startled, flushing as he stood in your door frame, thinking that the moment he realized you were barely clothed in your sleeping gown, he'd surely get flustered and leave, but he didn't, opting to talk to you for several minutes before turning away. That experience had been... uncomfortable.

He'd been everywhere you were, both inside of Mondstadt and, albeit a bit less, in the wilderness. You weren't even sure how he kept appearing exactly wherever you were - you'd be minding your own business, and a knight of Favonius would appear in your line of sight - soon after, Kaeya would always appear. No matter what time of day, no matter how far out you were, no matter what you wore or who you were with. Even if you had other people in a party with you, he insisted on showing up, as he claimed, for your safety. Sure, you had other companions that could try to guard you, but really, were they any valid comparison for a swordsman of his caliber?

You didn't need them, he could easily be more than enough, surpass any other companions you could take with you.

"Excuse me miss," a waitress approached. Oh no. "Did you and your friend need anything else?"

You knew what was coming, but he moved to speak before you could, snapping his head towards the woman. "No. Could you kindly leave us alone?"

The poor girl's eyes widened. "O-of course. My apologies." She quickly scurried off.

You'd never seen him be anything short of rude, even downright nasty, towards anyone that entered his presence. Somehow, you felt that he likely wasn't like that when it was just him - he was too clearly well-liked to be so rude all the time.

"Anyhow," he turned back to you, "I came here primarily to fetch you... Extremely important matters happening back in Mondstadt. That bard is looking for you. Something about Stormterror?"

Oh. That changed things.

"Something's wrong with him?"

"Mhm. Apparently so, but I don't have any details. Your assistance is needed immediately, apparently. Come," he smiled again, rising and extending his hand, "I'll take you back."

It shouldn't bother you - you should be grateful. You should simply sigh, and acknowledge that even if he was clingy, even if he was unnecessarily protective, there was nothing wrong here, there was nothing about the situation that should give you the feeling that it did.

It was a weight in your stomach, a twisting in your gut. Something instinctive, something in your deepest, most primal senses, was set off, a chill seeping through your blood. An innate sense in your very core that directed your actions, told you to get away.

But your trained sense of social decency rejected such an idea. He was being gracious, kind, helpful, and although he might put you at unease sometimes, Kaeya was known for being an upstanding person. And besides, logically, someone who seemed to like you so much wouldn't do anything to harm you.

You realized that you had frozen in place, briefly lost in your thoughts. He cocked his head. "Something the matter...?"

"N-no! No, I'm fine, I'm coming," you stood hurriedly, pushing the chair back as you did. "Thank you, Captain Kaeya."

He hummed in approval. "Of course. What kind of knight would I be, letting a defenseless girl wander back alone?" He paused. "I'll always protect you, so long as you actually bother to tell me when you plan to disappear." Despite his smile, there was an obvious hint of passive aggressive irritation in his voice, and you tried not to cringe in discomfort.

"Oh, aha, I'll be sure to let you know next time."

"I'd appreciate that."

You wondered how you'd apologize next time when you conveniently forgot your promise.

As you exited the little tavern, dropping mora on the bar for the owner, you felt a firm hand on the small of your back, pushing you through the doorframe. The touch made you shiver, and it lingered, like a brand against your skin.

The walk back was lively, you weren't bored with Kaeya to talk to. Even if his conversation was primarily bragging about this or that, telling you all the oh-so-wonderful feats he'd accomplished in his time, it was better than silence, you supposed. You were back to Mondstadt fairly quickly - no hilichurl encounters, although you did briefly run across a few slimes that he insisted on taking down by himself.

"Hey, are you feeling alright?" He stopped in the middle of whatever he had been going on about - honestly, you weren't paying that great of attention. 

"What? I-I'm fine," you responded, eyes wide.

"Really?" he looked at you with something like concern in his uncovered eye, brows furrowing with worry. "You look... a little sick." Suddenly, he pushed the back of his hand against your forehead. "You feel hot, too."

Well, now you did feel warm, his touch leaving a searing feeling on your skin. "A-are you sure? I don't think I'm..."

"No, you're definitely coming down with something." He glanced over in the opposite direction, where the city walls were not too far off. "You probably haven't even realized it yet. I could carry you the rest of the way, if you'd like."

"O-oh, ah, no, that's fine! I can walk... just... fine..." You found yourself trailing off, embarrassment making your face burn. 

"Well, why don't we stop by the Knights' Headquarters before we go to meet that... Venti, was it? We have a nurse there that could see to you."

"I..." you paused. Once again, that dreadful, sickly feeling rose in your stomach. Something telling you that something was wrong.

And again, you pushed it back. "Ok, sure."

He hummed in acknowledgement, swiftly moving towards the gates. "Let's hurry, then. Let me know if you change your mind and want me to carry you." He added a slight smirk to his last sentence. You weren't sure if you found it endearing or irritating.

Once you got back, as expected, Kaeya began directing you to the Knights of Favonius headquarters. And you followed him, all the way in, all the way down the stairs, all the way into the hall -- wait.

You figured perhaps he was absent-mindedly headed that way out of force of habit. "Uh... Kaeya, are you sure we're going the right way? This is..."

The same little tucked-away hallway that your rooms were in. In fact, you were literally coming up on your room.

He stopped, turning his head your way with a soft smile. "No worries. You're really starting to look like the blood is draining from your face... I just figured I can bring the nurse down here." He paused next to your room, then took a step back, motioning his head, as if to tell you to go in. "Just sit down, I'll find her and bring her this way."

The churning was stronger than before. Every hair on your body stood up. Every instinct you had told you something was not right.

Nonetheless, yet again, you didn't listen.

Your feet clicked on the stone floor as you walked through the door. It all occurred so quickly, your mind spun. It felt like a punch to the gut, the air knocked out of you, the impact pain pulsing as your back was slammed into the wall. Strong hands kept a bruising grip on your shoulders. The room spun around you, head dizzy and struggling to process. What snapped you into awareness was a cold, sharp chill pressed right up against your neck, and a firm knee pressed between your legs.

He had you pinned to the wall, sword hovering ever so slightly above the skin on top of your veins. You gasped for air from the impact. "K-Kaeya!" You managed to choke out. You couldn't form anything beyond that. Panic was surging through your body, mind overwhelmed as survival instinct tried and failed to find a quick way to get away.

"What's that?" He pressed his face forward, almost nuzzling it into your neck. You could feel him smirking against your skin. "I believe I remember you saying something about how you couldn't be caught off guard...?" 

You were vaguely aware that you would normally be angry - furious - over whatever was happening here, but primal fear still controlled your brain at the moment, unable to feel anything but panic. You trembled.

"This is what I meant when I said you should be more careful," he muttered. "You think you're so capable and strong, but look at how easily I could trap you... I could kill you, right now, so easily."

Your body shook fiercely. You felt tears begin to gather around your eyes. "I-I just... Trust... You..." Your voice was weak, frail, trembling harder than your body. "You're, you're my, m-my friend..."

"Mm, plenty of people will come along pretending to be your friend, (y/n). You're very, very lucky that I actually do have your best interest in mind." Finally, he lowered the sword from your throat. You released a breath you hadn't realized you were holding in, and you felt your knees give way, stumbling forward, quite literally falling into his arms. He dropped the sword in order to catch you, and it clattered to the ground.

Your shaking hands grasped his arms, fingers digging firmly into his skin, desperate for some sturdy stillness to cling to. There was a moment of silence.

"You see, (y/n)? Think about all the people that wouldn't just be proving a point like I am... All the people that might want to really hurt you... Do awful things to you... Aren't you grateful I'm not like that?" His voice was deeper than its usual tone, and you felt his chest vibrate as he spoke from where your head was pressed against him. It was low yet soft, almost a growl, yet almost a whisper.

You were breathing rapidly, forehead pressed against his chest. You didn't respond.

"I said, aren't you grateful that I don't want to hurt you?"

"Y-yes," you found your voice. You didn't know what else to say.

"And you understand now... You need me. You need me there to protect you from bad people. You're so easy to trick and overpower... So naive... Imagine what could happen if you get into this situation again, but for real... And I'm not there?" He reached one hand up, stroking the back of your head. "Surely, you understand that now, don't you?"

You nodded.

"That's good. I hope you remember that, next time you try to run off." He tsk-ed, tilting his head to rest his chin on top of your head, grip on your shoulder increasing, almost crushing. "Honestly, you should really just be guarded full time. I could probably arrange that."

As you began to calm down, the reality of the situation began to dawn on you. Anger rose in place of the fear. He had the audacity to do something like this, and blame you for trusting him? You wanted to speak up, say something, but that same primal instinct told you it was a bad idea.

This time, you listened. 

He gently shifted, setting you down on the bed. "Now, you really do look sick, truly. Tell you what, I'll just go see that bard in your stead, tell him you couldn't make it. We'll have to just figure something out. I'll tell the nurse to come down here."

"Wh-what?" You started to stand on your shaking legs. "No, I-"

"You really can't be going out," he grabbed your shoulders and firmly pushed you back. "Really. You'll just get worse. Better to recover faster, than prolong your illness, no?"

"I don't feel si-"

"You are sick." Once again, his smile was betrayed by the irritation in his voice. "Don't tell me you don't know about the Mondstadt influenza? No wonder. You're foreign, so you're probably highly susceptible to illnesses you've never encountered."

You'd been given a rundown of local illnesses by Lisa, actually, but didn't recall such a thing. "I've... Never heard -"

"You won't feel symptoms for several days after first showing signs. You're very lucky I'm used to seeing it." He pulled out a watch, eyebrows rising. "Oh, look at that. It's already time to meet the bard. I'll be back in a little bit."

"Wait-" 

"It'll only be a few minutes. I'll be back soon."

"Captain Ka-"

"Get some rest now."

The door shut firmly. You heard his heavy footsteps quickly sprint down the hall.

A nurse never came. Ten minutes passed, half an hour. You thought about trying to go find her yourself. Maybe he was actually being honest. Maybe you were sick. You almost wanted him to be right. You would prefer being sick to the idea that he might be lying to you.

You preferred worrying about being sick to worrying about the implications and meanings of the situation if he was lying to you.

You finally stood, resolving to go find a knight yourself, ask for directions to the nurse. Something. Anything to get your mind away from this, distract yourself from your brain's racing to process what had happened just before.

The metal lock rattled against the wood as you tried and failed, with increasing desperation, increasing heartbeat, increasing rapid breaths, to open the door.

[deltas-writing-corner]

Tsukumo Yuki relationship headcanons

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Tsukumo Yuki x reader

Author note: Tsukomo Yuki is the reason I love woman and she can crush me between her thighs send tweet

Warnings: Potential manga spoilers (?) | Mentions of s*x, but nothing too blatantly explicit. I would still prefer it if minors did not interact with this post in any way.

Yuki always asks the people she meets what type of woman they like. If someone were to ask that same question back to her, she’ll most certainly utter back your name as if it were an obvious response.

What’s not to love about you? You’re cute. You make her laugh. You cook for her because heaven knows she can't if her life depended on it. Most importantly, you keep her company due to the lack of curses she’s ever sent to exorcise. Traveling the world is fun and all, but it’s even more fun with you by her side!

You’re not a sorcerer. You can’t even see curses. Yuki is a childhood friend of yours and has kept you in the loop regarding the world of jujutsu sorcery since she started integrating into it. She thinks it’s important for you to know that someone like you, a non-curse user who has no control over the curse energy you create, should know what exactly your negative emotions can lead to. It’s not to make you feel bad or pin blame on you in any way. It’s her way of protecting you beyond physical means as well as a way of showing you that she places a great deal of trust in you regarding the nature of her line of work and her true goals.

Because she rejects the methods of the higher-ups and her ideology is more along the lines of putting an end to the creation of curses permanently instead of letting them manifest and dealing with them when they start causing profound trouble, you’re often the one that has to listen to all her new, sometimes overreaching, hypotheses now and then. You may even take part in her research, but she would never put you in any sort of harm! At least, not unless you give her the okay to. Be warned, if you give your blessing to be her little lab rat she’s prone to get carried away with her methods. Speak up if she’s doing something outrageous or if she’s making you uncomfortable. Otherwise, you might end up in some precarious situations.

As mentioned previously, Yuki isn’t sent out on missions that often, if ever. She instead chooses to travel in and out of the country, for the sake of her research as well as for the pleasure of it. Since she’s one of three, later four, special grade sorcerers her salary is rather tremendous. Unfortunately, her travels outside Japan are “unauthorized” and sometimes her funds get frozen by the higher-ups. Her quick solution to the matter is to fly back, take on a mission or two to get her funds unfrozen (and into your account because you’re her partner-in-crime) or even take on a mission to earn some more funds, and then you and her are right back to traveling the world again.

During one of these money replenishing heists, she met a kid that she took a particular interest in and wanted to mentor, Aoi Todo. It’s hard for most people to spark her interest to the extent Todo did, so you happily supported her endeavors and even met with her young pupil a few times throughout the years. Her methods of training are a bit....extreme, to put it lightly. You understand that holding back her punches will only hinder Todo’s progress instead of allowing him the ability to improve and push past his limits, but you can’t help but flinch over the large scar that marks his face whenever you briefly meet up with him.

Todo is eccentric, but so is Yuki. Perhaps not idol obsessed like Todo, but seeing the way he takes great care of his appearance and flaunts his body (during a battle even), he’s a near-identical clone of Yuki. She knows that she’s good-looking, and she will always flaunt this fact to anyone with working eyes, even you! Does it work every single time? Yes. Yes, it does.

Honestly, how can it not? She’s tall. She has a great butt. She drives a motorcycle. Her tight biker pants are your Achilles heels and she knows it. Sometimes she’ll wear them around the house just to flaunt her curves and other bodily goods, even if it’s the middle of the summer, the AC is broken and the pants are made of stuffy leather material. If it gets your face all heated up, she'll wear it.

The compliments she gets from strangers are nice and all, but it’s your reactions she truly cares about. You’ve been by her side through it all. You're still sticking with her even despite the fact that she’s constantly moving around and living a somewhat free-spirited lifestyle. You genuinely support and help her when almost everyone else has rejected her methods and ideals and brush her off as some lazy, outrageous-thinking woman. Really, you stole this woman’s heart just by letting her be herself, a lazy, outrageous-thinking woman.

Yuki is indeed lazy, to the point it sometimes affects you and your shared apartment is left in a week-long accumulated mess. I’m talking clothes strewed about and spilling out the already full laundry basket, sink filled with dirty dishes, houseplant half dead due to insufficient watering, and little dusty bunnies in the corner of the room. Whenever you try to get around to getting your living space in order, she always drags you back to the bed with her either to nap some more or for a quick round of sex that leads to more napping. Eventually, you have to beat her with a pillow and threaten her with no sex for a certain period of time to get her to back off, which always works without fail.

If you really hold the “no sex until...” ultimatum over her head long enough, she’ll even pitch in and help you clean. But to be honest she kinda sucks at it so it’s sometimes better to just have her sit on the sidelines while you do all the work. She’ll jokingly suggest you clean with just an apron on (because she’s a freak like that), but you haven’t taken her up on the suggestion just yet. It’s mostly because you’ll use the “naked apron” method to further insinuate her punishment if your usual threat begins to lose its potency (because you are also a freak like that).

She’s a bad sleeping partner. Not only does she hog all the blankets and pillows, but she even stretches out her limbs over the entire bed. This usually leaves you curled up in a corner shivering your ass off until you either fall asleep via exhaustion or move to the couch. If you go to the couch, she’s 99.9% likely to wake up and join you shortly after, where she’s less of a hassle to deal with because of the limited space.

She’s a great big spoon, which is actually one of the ways you later use to solve her troublesome habits as once she latches onto you, she will not let go the rest of the evening. Unfortunately, she also snores terribly loud, but it’s nothing earbuds can’t fix.

Some might think she sleeps in something flattering, maybe even a bit scanty. That couldn’t be any further from the truth. Her pj’s are decades-old shirts and gym shorts that she never got around to getting rid of. If not that, she’ll sleep completely naked and she doesn’t care if someone walks in on her with the covers off. She’ll only ever wear lingerie or other promiscuous pieces of clothing if she has intentions of getting between your legs and rocking your world for the rest of the night.

I think it goes without saying that she looks great in lace, but as hot as she may look, she really likes seeing you dressed up in something risque as well.

If you’re female, she sometimes likes to wear matching lingerie sets with you, but her favorite material to see you in is leather, especially those harness-styled sets that squeeze your flesh all around.

If you’re male, she’s a complete sucker for a man in a clean-cut, custom-tailored suit and will take it off as soon as you put it on. Hope you don’t mind losing a button or two, because she will pop them off for sure when she rips your dress shirt off of you.

To all my gender-neutral folks, It’s never too late to whip out that naked apron I mentioned earlier! Or a leather jacket. Everyone looks great in a leather jacket!

Yuki’s diet is fucking terrible. You’re a decent cook, but despite this, all she ever seems to want is greasy take-out food that makes you wonder how the hell she’s still so fit after witnessing her down three chicken burritos in one sitting. Even when the two of you are abroad and are able to try out different types of cuisines not so readily available in Japan, she’ll still want to go out to a fast food joint that you can easily find everywhere. You’ve tried to get her to branch out of her comfort zone and eat somewhat healthier alternatives of her favorite foods, but so far you’ve gotten mixed results.

In summary: Yuki is a pretty outgoing person and sometimes can be a bit of a hassle to deal with, but she’s clearly ambitious and moves to the tune of her own beat. Her goal of finding and effectively eliminating the source of all curses is a testament to the fact that she wants to save future generations from having to carry the burden sorcerers have been carrying for thousands of years. Her goals are not only for the sake of the people who will come after her, but also for the sake of her future with you. You’re someone she genuinely cares for and wishes to spend the rest of her life with, evident by the numerous times she’s come clean to you about her fears of you dying when she isn't around to protect you or of her dying and leaving you behind to mourn during late-night pillow talks in hotels or in your shared home. A future where you and her can travel the world and truly take in and enjoy the sights and wonders instead of searching for an answer to one of the world’s greatest phenomenon is a future worth fighting for, even if she’s met with some pushback or the end goal seems like nothing more than a pipedream at times. So long as you’re there with her to see her research bear fruit, she’ll keep testing and coming up with new methods to eliminate curses permanently, no matter the extremes her research takes her to.

[brockadoodles]

kiss me at midnight - m. tkachuk

AN: The way i can’t WAIT for the season to start so I can gif short haired Matty... Anyways. uh, I woke up today and chose violence, so here’s a New Year’s fic with one of our favorites. Maybe one day I’ll stop posting at 1 am? Let me know what you think! 

Word Count: 2395

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and drinking, otherwise it’s fluffy. 

“Ten dollars says they’re going to make out within the next five minutes.” You quickly turned your head at the voice. You smiled slightly at Matthew, nodding at him to take a seat next to you. You had just met him that evening and had somehow ended up running into him multiple times throughout the night. You laughed softly at his statement as you swirled your rum and coke in your hand. You didn’t even have to look in the direction that he was pointing toward to know exactly who he was talking about. Your roommate had ditched you in favor of his teammate over an hour ago, and in her defense, he was cute and better one of you not to spend New Year’s Eve sulking alone at the bar. 

“I give them three, you’re welcome to hang out and wager me on it.” You joked. Matthew eyed you curiously, anyone that was willing to make a bet with him that quickly was someone he wanted to get to know. He caught the attention of the bartender and ordered himself a drink. He glanced over at your near-empty glass and had another made for you, making sure to tell the bartender to add it to his own tab and not yours. Your friend had very clearly left you to your own devices and he had no intention of doing the same thing, the least he could offer is buying you one drink. You just smiled at him in thanks as another rum and coke was put in your hands to replace the now empty one. 

“Would ya look at that, guess neither of us wins.” Matthew mused as he took a sip of his drink. You quickly turned your head to where your roommate was now pressed against the pool table, kissing his teammate. You rolled your eyes before turning your attention back to Matthew, who was inarguably cute. No harming in shooting your shot with someone you likely wouldn’t see again in a crowded bar in Calgary on New Year’s Eve, right? 

“Bummer. To think I was going to bet you a New Year’s Kiss.” You shrugged, raising your eyebrow a bit toward Matthew, who now had a smirk settling in on his features. He leaned against the bar as he took a step closer to you, positioning his body between your thighs. It wasn’t uncomfortable, you actually found yourself smiling softly at him as you placed a hand on his waist and tugged him slightly closer to you, opening the door for whatever would come next.

“Me and you at midnight? Deal.” You rolled your eyes at him and pat his side, pushing him back just enough to give you some more room. The conversation started flowing after that, and you found yourself getting lost in the stories he was telling. Something about Matthew was captivating. You could blame it on his looks, maybe the way his eyes lit up when he smiled at you, or the way his hair was just long enough to see that it was a bit curly, or maybe it was the way you were sitting close together now, with his leg brushed against yours under the table that you had moved to an hour before. But deep down you knew it wasn’t just because he was some hot stranger who you were hopefully stealing a midnight kiss from, you and Matthew had a connection that you couldn’t quite explain further than it being what everyone describes in shows that you never bothered to believe in. You could only hope that he felt it, too.

Except, he must not have, because when the clock counted down and you prepared yourself to finally kiss him, he just held you close. Matthew tucked you under his arm as the crowd started cheering and he made no move to kiss you, something that even in your drunken state was causing disappointment. What you didn’t know was that he wanted to kiss you more than anything that night, but he wasn’t about to cross a line you had drawn while drunk. He wanted to make sure it was okay before anything happened, so instead, he settled for a soft kiss to your forehead and exchanging numbers as he put you in an uber back to your apartment. Leaving you drunk and confused as if you had just read the signs entirely wrong. 

You spent the next 11 months with Matthew, spending nearly all of your time together. You went to his games, you met each other’s friends, you spent nights with each other and there were so many frustrating pent up moments where if someone would have asked you what you were to each other, you genuinely would have had no answer. Matthew frustrated you in ways that you couldn’t pinpoint because his signals were caught up in the crossfires and you weren’t sure what you meant to him. You knew he cared about you, and sometimes his hand would linger just a bit too long on the small of your back, or he would fall asleep with his arms just enough around you that you would convince yourself that he felt what you had felt for him the entire time. 

You spent months dancing back and forth with Matty, replying that New Year’s Eve night over and over in your head, wondering why he never kissed you. Then you spent months to accept what he was giving you, a friend that cared about you and would do anything for you, but one that simply didn’t harbor the same feelings you held close to your chest. You couldn’t fault him for not feeling the same way, feelings sometimes don’t have a rhyme or reason as to why they happen. Sometimes the hand you’re dealt results in a win, and other times you bet your entire heart only to watch it get cashed out by someone else who didn’t care to have it in the first place. But you had spent a year waiting around for him, and at this point, you just needed to know. 

Matthew answered the phone quickly when he saw that it was you calling. He had just gotten back from a small get together with some of his friends from back home. He smiled softly as he greeted you, breathing a content sigh of relief as he settled down into what would likely be a long chat with you. You were Matthew’s favorite person and even though he hated being on the phone, he’d talk with you for hours about nothing if that was what you wanted. 

“Do you know how there’s that saying about how if you spend New Years with someone, that’s who you’re spending the year with?” Were the first words out of your mouth, acting on a stint of courage that your friends had practically shoved into you the entire time you were with them. They all wanted you and Matty to get your shit together and confess, and you’d be lying if them pressing you wasn’t a factor in this impulsive late-night phone call to the person in question. 

“Yeah, I have heard that one.” Matty smiled into his phone. 

“I have this theory. I think it’s actually that who you miss the most on New Years’ is who you’ll spend the year with.” You were glad this was just a phone call and that matty wasn’t there to see your face. You had been dancing around something with him for so long now, that it felt like you were stuck in an endless game of poker where no one was winning. But you were the dealer now, and you were giving Matthew the cards that would give him a royal flush if he wanted it, and god you hoped he wanted it. 

“You’re going to need to explain that, sweetheart.” 

“We spent last New Years’ together, and you didn’t kiss me. We spent an entire year together and you didn’t kiss me, but there’s something here right? Because I feel like there is, and even though you’re in St. Louis and I’m here all I want is for you to miss me just enough that you’ll come home and finally kiss me.” 

Matthew swore that he felt his heart lurch in his chest as he processed your words. You, the person he had spent the last year getting to know, spending nights together on your couch watching bad reality TV and arguing over what take out to order. You, the person that he thought about more often than not, so much so that he had made a routine of calling you after every away game, just because it was calming to hear your voice on the phone. You, the person that he had so desperately wanted to kiss the year before but didn’t because it wouldn’t have been right with both of you too intoxicated to make that decision. He had spent the last year assuming that you thought of him as just a friend and he had been sulking about it for months. 

“Holy shit, I didn’t think you were into me.” Was absolutely not the most eloquent way that he could have responded to what you had just said. Matthew internally groaned at himself as he listened to the silence that was now coming from your side of the conversation. He was panicking, racking his brain for the right words to string together to make sure you knew he felt exactly the same way as you did. For some reason, just telling you that didn’t feel good enough when you had just about taken his heart right out of his chest from another country away with your confession. 

“Fuck, that was not what I meant to say.” He ran a hand over his face, and he was thankful for once you had asked to just talk on the phone and not FaceTime. 

“I really miss you. And everything you’re feeling, I feel it too.” He finally settled on it, hoping that it was enough to convey his emotions. He knew he wanted you, he had waited a year for this moment to come to its head. A year of him subtly standing by your side, itching to reach his hand out to yours but not daring to make the final touch. A year of him hoping you wouldn’t meet someone else that could take up the space that he desperately wanted to occupy. He spent a year waiting for you, he wasn’t going to wait any longer. Before he could stop himself he grabbed his laptop, pulling up flights as you started to speak again. 

“God, Matty, there have been so many times I almost told you how I felt.” You breathed out. He could tell exactly how you were feeling, he could hear the relief in your voice. He knew that type of relief, the instant gratification a person feels when they give someone their time and effort and it’s all reciprocated. He knew that feeling because as soon as you mentioned you wanted to kiss him, he felt that same relief settle into his chest, a feeling he had been craving for so long now. A feeling he could act on in a matter of hours thanks to a ridiculously over-expensive flight from St. Louis back to Calgary. 

“Can you pick me up tomorrow morning? From the airport?” He asked. You froze in bed, pulling your phone from your ear and looking at the time. It was late, already past midnight which meant it was even later for him. Your heart was racing and you felt like this was some hazy dream that you were bound to wake up from disappointed, the same dream you had experienced probably a hundred times over the last year. Matty was your entire world, and it didn’t feel real that he was finally something tangible. So you told him yes. You told him, yes and you counted down the hours until you got to see him, barely sleeping at all. 

You had never been the type to think you’d be standing outside of security at an airport, living out some terrible moment from a romantic comedy as you waited for the person you loved to come through the gates. But there you were, in one of his old sweatshirts, nervously tapping your foot as you eyed every single person that walked through.

You were totally sure that anyone watching you probably was rolling your eyes at the look on your face, the same lovesick look you see in the very movies you often complain about. But you didn’t care because strangers walking through an airport clutching their coffee at 7 am who you would never see again didn’t matter. Everyone had their own destination that day, their own trip that they were making for their own reasons, and your reason was walking toward you, looking at you like you were the only thing that he could see and that was what mattered. 

Matty dropped his bag to the ground as you jogged up to him. You wrapped your arms tightly around his waist and tucked your head against his chest, taking a moment to listen to the steady beat of his heart, the same steady beating that you had listened to so many times before not knowing that it beat only for you. 

“I’m going to kiss you now because I’ve been waiting for a year to do it and I don’t think I can handle waiting any longer.” Matty grabbed your cheek, pulling your gaze up to meet his as his other arm tightened around you. 

“You can kiss me whenever you want now, Matty.” You murmured, letting your eyes flutter closed as you leaned in and pressed your lips lightly to his. You melted into the kiss, letting him pull you closer to deepen it just a little as the early morning travelers kept walking around you. You almost didn’t regret the time spent wishing for this moment, because in a way, the person you spent New Year’s with the year before was the person you spent the year with, and now you got to spend another year with him, being fully and completely each others. It wasn’t midnight, but somehow 7 am felt better than midnight ever could have.  

[songbirdsingingthings]

Common Sense - Shouto Todoroki x Reader

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Kohei Horikoshi

MHA Masterlist - Main Masterlist

A/N: So I got this idea, ran with it, and then somehow 3,000+ words came out of it. Honestly, I’m kinda really proud with how it turned out and I hope y’all like it too.

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 3.1K

If there was ever a phrase that Shouto Todoroki hated, it would be ‘common sense’. What a weird phrase, he would think, because the use of common sense implies that it’s something that everyone should know, but in most cases, he didn’t. Unfortunately, that phrase left the lips of his friends quite often. He knows they mean no harm or ill will towards him, he was sure they would stop using the term if he ever mentioned how he felt about it, but he didn’t want to make them feel uncomfortable. The first time it started to get on his nerves was when he, Midoriya, Iida, and Uraraka were at the mall on a rare weekday off.

“Wow, hey, look at that!” Uraraka had exclaimed, running as quickly as her feet could carry her over to a newly implemented little wishing well that had been placed in a small corner of the outdoor mall. Midoriya and Iida quickly followed her, but Shouto hung back.

“C’mon Todoroki, let’s go make a wish!” Midoriya urged, beckoning him over with a wave of his hand. Shouto followed him, albeit a little confused, over to the well.

“Does anybody have a quarter I could use? I forgot to bring change with me, I only have bills in my wallet.” Uraraka blushed, her expression a bit embarrassed.

“Of course!” Iida said, fishing two quarters out of his billfold, handing one to Uraraka and keeping the other for himself. Todoroki watched his three friends close their eyes and then flip their coins into the well, taking note at how they sank slowly into the water.

“Todoroki, aren’t you going to make a wish?” Midoriya questioned, a patient smile on his lips. The expression of confusion remained on Shouto’s face.

“What merit do coins have on wishes?” He asked, genuinely curious as to why his friends would technically throw away money in turn for a wish that would most likely be out of their reach or unrealistic. “Also, aren’t we using money to pay for things within the stores here? I thought that you were saving up for that new jacket, Uraraka.” He wondered, turning to look at the pink-cheeked girl. She just smiled and shook her head.

“Todoroki, a small little coin wouldn’t have much effect on my savings. Besides, it’s kinda common sense to enjoy the little things like this and not pay too much mind, right?” Iida and Midoriya nodded enthusiastically, nudging the red-and-white haired boy closer to the water-filled wishing well. He sighed and thought over Uraraka’s words. It’s kinda common sense to enjoy the little things? He thought as a quarter was forcibly put in his hands. He closed his eyes to humor his friends and dropped the coin in the well. He was then afterward given smiles and some reassuring pats, and as much as he knew his friends were making efforts to include him, he couldn’t help but feel a bit… coddled. He knew that as a child he was always shielded from the world, but was he really kept away from this much? Was he seriously hidden from such superficial subjects? He tried to ward away those questions that poked and prodded at his brain, but he couldn’t seem to shrug them off as he observed his friends dart in and out of multiple stores with shopping bags in their hands. Shouto ended up bringing nothing back to the dorm with him, except for a sudden slight contempt for a tiny little phrase.

The next circumstance was when he and Bakugou were at the remedial lessons. While Shouto wasn’t incredibly enthused about going through extra lessons in order to gain his provisional license, he understood why he needed to go and appreciated the effort and lengths that the teachers went to so that he could have another chance. Well, he, Bakugou, Inasa and a girl who just introduced herself as Camie to him and the explosive-quirked boy.

“So, who’s this smoldery looking two-toned boy?” She had chirped, her hand clutching the brim of her Shiketsu high cap. “You’re, like, super hot. I’m crazy siked to train with a babe like you!” Even Shouto had to admit to himself that this girl was coming onto him really strong - and not exactly in the most flattering way possible. She greeted Inasa briefly, but then dug into her pocket to grab her phone, holding it out in front of Shouto. “Seriously, can I, like, have your number?” Hesitantly, Shouto responded.

“Uhh, sure.” He replied, but made no effort to grab his own phone that was safely tucked away in his blazer pocket. He found her interactions with others to be quite shallow in the way that she really gave no information about herself. Camie tended to project more onto others, he figured. As he and Bakugou walked to the changing room specifically set aside for UA students, Shouto noticed the look of disapproval on the blonde’s face. Shouto just quirked an eyebrow at him, knowing that he didn’t need a vocal cue to get Bakugou to start talking.

“You seriously agreed to give your number to that chick at the drop of the hat? Do you not have any standards, Icyhot?” He growled, Bakugou’s signature scowl now adorning face. 

“What do you mean? I just assumed she would need it in case of emergencies.” Shouto explained. With a roll of his eyes and a look that conveyed Bakugou wanted to rip his own hair out, the blonde glared at him.

“YOU DON’T JUST GIVE A NUMBER TO A GIRL YOU JUST MET! GET TO KNOW HER OR SOMETHING YOU HALF-AND-HALF BASTARD! IT’S JUST COMMON SENSE!” Shouto was used to Bakugou’s outbursts and never took any of what he said personally, but now that was the second time the phrase common sense was used at his expense… and it irked him. Shouto’s eyes narrowed as he watched Bakugou trudge and stomp his way through the door and into the changing room. And, not unlike the first time he heard it, the saying ‘common sense’ left a foul taste in his mouth.

Finally, the most recent time he heard it, was from the person he probably despised the most. His own father. Shouto was visiting his home - which happened rarely and the time he spent there was brief - to speak with and catch up with his sister, Fuyumi. Unfortunately, just as he was about to leave, the number two Pro-Hero walked through the door.

“Shouto, you’re home!” He bellowed, a grin plastered under his flaming mustache. Shouto frowned and narrowed his eyes as he navigated around the stocky man, making his way out of the door. He adjusted the strap of his shoulder bag after it was jostled by unintentionally brushing roughly past his father, but a heavy hand on his shoulder stopped him in his tracks. With narrowed eyes and a frown-turned-grimace on his face, he turned around to face the fire-quirked man.

“Do you have something to say or will you let me be on my way?” Shouto glared, making Endeavor bristle.

“Yes, Shouto, I have something to say indeed!” The flames on his body seemed to grow larger, proving another example of a concept Shouto recently learned in class: direct variation. “You haven’t bothered to return any of my calls or my text messages to you regarding personal training! It’s no wonder you didn’t pass your provisional licensing exam!” Flames emitted from his father’s body out of rage, and as much as Shouto tried not to let it out, a small wisp left his left side.

“I’m not interested, and I’ve told you as such.” Shouto grits out, resuming his previous pathing of making his way out of his childhood home. 

“You respond to your father when he reaches out to you! IT IS COMMON SENSE!” Endeavor shouts, causing Shouto’s body to go rigid. He clenches his jaw and twists around. His father saying that hated term was the last straw for him.

“IT IS NOT COMMON SENSE IN RELATION TO YOU!” Shouto barks out, frost and flames growing on their respective sides. And, with that, Shouto finally leaves the metal gates of his home, slamming them behind himself as he left. He cringed a bit at the loud clanging noise it left behind, but he was too furious to really care. He did feel bad for his classmates as they saw him enter the doors of the dorm building with a scowl almost comparable to Bakugou’s, not even sparing them a word as he left them in the common room and shut himself up in his dorm.

At the current moment, Shouto is shifting somewhat uncomfortably on one of the many cushions that were dotted around the main floor common room. It was late in the evening, but the energy coming from the Class 1A dorms was much larger due to it being a Friday night. After a particularly hard week at school, Mina Ashido and Eijirou Kirishima had proposed the idea of a Class 1A slumber party in the main room and that everyone had to come. There were no exceptions to this rule, they explained - even a glaring Bakugou was nestled into the corner of the room with a weighted blanket on top of him and a pillow. It was truly a wonder that he hadn’t tried to escape or fall asleep yet, but the rest of the class didn’t dare to ask him. Denki had tried it earlier and was greeted with a small explosion to the face and a few very choice words spat at him. This was a first for the red-and-white haired boy - never had he had a sleepover, much less a slumber party, so the pillow fights and truth-or-dare games that were being played were more or less foreign concepts to him. However, here was one thing he did know. It was that he found a sense of peace when looking at you. As a strong and powerful hero-in-training, he had always kept an eye on you in training to try and better prepare himself for an attack. But recently, he noticed that his gaze always gravitated to you whenever he was in the classroom or in the dining room. Whether it was the sun shining on your Y/H/C hair or the smile that sprouted from your lips whenever someone cracked a joke, he found them much more interesting since they were coming from you. Before long, the two of you had developed a solid friendship that involved everything - from studying together in the library to going on late night soba runs, he found you to be a much needed source of support in his life. What he didn’t realize would happen, though, was heat creeping up onto his cheeks when you locked eyes with him. You did nothing to make him feel embarrassed - just offered him a kind smile and began to make your way over to him, but the blush on his cheeks was unrelenting. He even tried to activate his right side in the hopes of cancelling it out, but to no avail. Thankfully to him, you didn’t seem to notice.

“It’s getting kinda crazy in here, huh.” You say, trying to spark up a conversation between you and him. Shouto, not finding any words, merely nodded his head. “It’s fine to be overwhelmed,” you continued, “I remember the first time I had a sleepover when I was nine years old. I had to call my parents to pick me up early because I felt like it was too suffocating,” you laugh, poking fun at your younger self’s obseredity. This cracked a small smile on Shouto’s lips. “Tell me if you need an excuse to get out of here - I have several stored up in here from previous uncomfortable situations.” You say, pointing a finger up to your temple.

“I think Bakugou would benefit from that,” Shouto muses as both of your gazes flicker over to the sulking blonde. The sound of your laughter does wonders to soothe the antsy feeling he had previously in his chest.

“Okay, well, us girls are going to get ready for bed in my room! We’ll be back any minute, so no need to worry!” Mina announces, sending a smile to the boys as the girls got up one by one and grabbed their pajamas. You gave Shouto a smile and a pat on the shoulder before standing up. You stretched your arms above your head due to the ache that was ever prominent from the endless days of training finally catching up to you. 

“Alright, I’ll be back soon. Save me a good spot?” You ask, backpedaling slowly so that your face was still turned towards Shouto. With a small smile, he nodded.

“Sure thing.” With a quick thumbs up and a little spring in your step, you spun around to quickly follow the rest of your female classmates. As soon as the door was shut, Denki had motioned for all of the guys to come to the middle of the room. Shouto, figuring that they were just going to talk about how they should figure out sleeping arrangements, shuffled closer as well. Oh, how wrong he was.

“So, now that the girls are gone for a bit, I gotta know. Who do you guys think the prettiest or, my preferred adjective, hottest girl in class is?” Immediately, Shouto’s eyes widened at the subject of conversation and how unabashedly forward he was. The red-and-white haired boy was even more shocked when the rest of the guys started talking.

“Well, we all have to admit that Momo is very pretty.” Sero says, earning nods from around the room.

“I think I know who Midoriya is gonna say,” teased Denki, nudging the green-haired boy’s side with his elbow.

“I-I don’t really know what you guys are on about?” Midoriya said, his voice octaves higher than normal. Snickers erupted from the boys as they all - even Shouto unconsciously - came to the same conclusion that Midoriya was thinking of a certain pink-cheeked brunette.

“I think that Hagakure is pretty.” A small voice peeped. All heads turned to face Ojirou who had a shy smile on his face. The next few minutes of conversations were filled with the boys commenting on how pretty the girls were in their class, going from Tsu to Mina, and then to Jirou.

“We all know you have the hots for Jirou, Denki, you don’t need to hide it.” Sero said, a mischievous grin laced across his face. The electric blonde’s jaw opened and closed like a fish before quickly changing the subject.

“W-well how about L/N?” He said, trying to get his nerves to dissipate. At her name being voiced, Shouto’s head perked up and, before he could stop the words from his mouth, he spoke.

“That’s just common sense.” The room went quiet as soon as Shouto’s words were spoken, all eyes on him. He couldn’t believe himself. That phrase, the one that irked him so much, he actually used. As much as he wanted to cringe at the use of it, he couldn’t help but understand why he used it. He had looked up the exact meaning of the phrase online before, and every site he found yielded the same results; a practical judgement concerning everyday matters. If someone were to lack common sense, then that person would usually be regarded as a simpleton or unintelligent. Well, Shouto couldn’t help but agree that if people had thought of Y/N as anything but gorgeous, then they were definitely lacking common sense.

“Uh, care to elaborate?” Kirishima asked, trying to prompt the red-and-white haired boy to spill his inside feelings that were usually never exposed to the rest of the group. Normally, Shouto would’ve put that iron gate back up around his mind and heart, but like a dam bursting and overflowing with water, he couldn’t help but let his drowning thoughts of Y/N consume his better judgement.

“It’s common sense that she’s pretty because she encapsulates everything it means to be as such.” The boys all leaned in closer to hear more, but were interrupted by a door swinging open.

“Okay, we’re back! Now, what movie should we watch? I’m kinda partial to Game Night, but am open to suggestions.” Mina chirps. The boys quickly dispersed from the middle of the room and back to their original spots. Shouto tried to find his bearings as quickly as possible since you were making your way back over to him.

“Hey! Sorry we took so long, Hagakure brought up the subject of Hawks and the girls just kinda latched onto talking about him and wouldn’t let go,” you joked, rolling your eyes playfully and settling down next to him. “Thanks for the spot by the way, it’ll be kinda cool sleeping next to each other!” Shouto looked down to where he had left your pillow and blankets and swallowed.

“Oh, uh, yes.” He said. That’s when he finally got a solid look at you. Dressed in soft-looking shorts and an oversized crewneck, you looked as cozy as could be. It was like a warm hug embraced his heart as he watched you shimmy under your blanket, shifting around to find the most comfortable position in order to watch the movie.

“So, what movie do you wanna watch?” You asked, offering him a giddy smile. Shouto’s smile grew larger as he too began to crawl under his blanket.

“I’m not sure, but I’m sure whatever the others decide on will be a suitable choice.” He said. You nodded in return. In the end, the class decided on a random rom-com they found while scrolling through one of the various streaming services the UA campus TVs provided. The overhead lights of the common room were turned off, so only the blue-ish light emitting from the TV made your faces visible to each other.

“Umm, Shouto?” You whispered. Shouto turned his gaze away from the movie and onto your face. With an expression that showed he was listening, he encouraged you to continue your thoughts. “I just wanted to thank you for your compliment earlier, I… I thought it was super sweet.” Shouto’s mind ran a rerun of the day, trying to think of the specific compliment he had given you, until he arrived on the one he indirectly gave you just an hour earlier. His eyes widened and his heart began to beat more quickly as you nudged your way closer to him. “I think it’s common sense that you’re pretty, too.” Shouto drew a shaky breath as your nose brushed against his.

“May I…?” He asked, his voice so trembly that he couldn’t create a full sentence. Thankfully, though, you seemed to understand.

“Mhm” You hummed, meeting him halfway. It was perfect. Slow and sweet, showing how he was truly savoring the experience. A hesitant hand made its way up to cradle your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly across it. While the rest of the class was indeed there, this moment was incredibly private to the both of you. Just you, Shouto, and the common sense shared between you two that you were irrevocably and incandescently in love with each other.

[spencers-dria]

Lost at Sea

Single Dad Spencer x fem reader

Summary: This is kind of a little Christmas-adjacent fluff peice where Spencer is a single dad, completely clueless while Christmas shopping for his daughter. Reader sees him struggling and decides to help, completely unaware of where it will lead them. I imagined him sometime after the show ended, kinda with his somewhat longer curly hair and glasses. This story is completely fluff and I make no apologies.

Well, that was about the third loud huff from the man standing down the isle from me. This one was so loud it blew his hair around a bit, making it even messier. I try to focus on the task at hand, finding the perfect gift for my best friend’s little girl.

Diana was the closest thing I had to a daughter of my own. Despite Anne’s protesting, I took every opportunity to spoil her daughter rotten. The adorable and precocious little girl had me absolutely wrapped around her finger. I have to fight the urge to buy everything I thought would put a smile on her face, my favorite sight in the world.

But now, I was repeatedly distracted by the clearly frustrated man standing next to me, eyeing the girls toy section like it was an enigma. I decide to approach him, but he’s still to lost in his thoughts to notice.

I clear my throat while giving him a light tap on the shoulder.

“Can I help you with anything?”

“Oh I didn’t realized you worked here.”

“I don’t.” I smile sweetly at him. “You just look like you’re trying to solve the worlds most challenging puzzle over here.”

He meets my eyes with a sheepish smile, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. I try my best to ignore just how attractive this man is. He’s definitely not available.

“I guess in a way I am. I’m trying to buy a Christmas gift for my daughter. It’s safe to say that I know absolutely nothing about girls. I want it to be absolutely perfect, and I just know whatever I get won’t be half of what she deserves.”

“Well I can help with that. How old is she and what does she like?”

He pushes his glasses up his nose, giving me a moment to ogle just how attractive his hands are.

“Her name is Alice, she’s 5. I know she loves Disney princesses. Ariel is her favorite I think... but even once I narrow it down to that, there is still just so much. Who knew shopping for little girls could be so overwhelming.”

I can’t help but giggle a bit at his helplessness. He starts to laugh along with me.

“I’m Spencer by the way.” I see him hesitate a moment before slowly extending a hand. I look at his extended hand with a slight feeling of guilt, knowing he’ll most likely judge me based on my response.

“Oh I’m sorry I hope you don’t think I’m rude but... I don’t really shake hands. It’s not personal it’s just all the germs. I don’t deal so well with them.”

He lets out a soft chuckle, but I can’t imagine why. Is he actually laughing at me? Seems a bit rude.

“You know I used to be the exact same way. I suppose having a kid has changed me more than I realize sometimes.”

I nod, quietly, knowing I can’t really relate.

“I’m sorry you’re probably really busy. Are you shopping for your daughter too?”

Unsure as to the reason why, I’m suddenly embarrassed to admit that I’m not actually a parent. Just a single loner in their mid-thirties, living vicariously through their best friend and their.

“Oh no, just a friend. I’m more than happy to help you out with Alice. If you want my best ideas though, I’ve got to be honest, a lot of it is online. I can show you the links real quick, I’d you’d like?”

“I feel like this would be easier if we just... Would you like to grab coffee? I know a great place just around the corner. You can show me all your ideas and hopefully we can pick out something for her together.”

Up until this point I didn’t want to make assumptions, but it’s becoming more clear that Spencer is most likely a single dad. I don’t want pry, but I can’t help but wonder what happened to her mom.

I try to hide my excitement at his offer.

“You had me at coffee. And I almost forgot, I’m Y/N!”

————————————————

Three hours and several cups of coffee later, I knew a small part of the life story belonging to Spencer Reid. He was an FBI agent, part of a team who hunts down serial killers. A profiler. Or former profiler? He used to work in the field, until he had to raise his daughter alone. He had been fallen hard and fast for someone who left him as soon as another opportunity, or person rather, had presented themselves. They left him a single dad, all alone with his 2 year old daughter, Alice.

Being a single parent, he knew he couldn’t continue a job that put him in harms way on a regular basis. He never had a problem putting his life on the line for others, but Alice had become his number one priority, without question. Switching to a desk job had allowed him to continue as a consult for the team while also teaching at the University.

As I looked over his attire, I couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t quite give off professor vibes at first glance. His cozy maroon sweater and glasses, perhaps. But his curly mop of disheveled hair and goofy grin made him look more like a cuddly muppet character. The more I listen to him talk the more I notice his intelligence. I should have known, given his professions. It didn’t take long to realize he was well out of my league, but he was kind enough to give me the time of day for whatever reason.

I keep drowining in his eyes or getting pulled in by the movement of his hands as he speaks. Listening to his voice is like gently floating down like a river. I don’t even notice when he’s stopped talking.

“What about you?”

“Hmm?” I pull myself out of my daze, trying not to look as enchanted by him as I feel.

“Oh uhh, nothing to tell really.” I shrug, picking up my coffe, hoping he’ll change the subject while I sip on my caramel latte.

“I find that hard to believe. What do you do?”

“I just run a small cafe in town.”

I feel as though hearing about my life is about as interesting as watching water boil, but Spencer could have fooled me. He looks genuinely invested as I tell him about how I earned my bachelors and masters in business management, eventually opening up The Cottage. I didn’t have any experience in the food industry, but my friend Nicole had immediately been on board with the idea of coming on as my cook.

“It sounds wonderful. I’ll definitely have to stop by sometime.” He smiles at me before sipping on the last of his second cup of coffee.

“You’re welcome to bring Alice, only if you want to. And Nicole makes a killer risotto!”

“Of course! ...Oh! I knew we were forgetting something. Alice!”

“The entire reason you asked me here, just a minor detail.” I can’t help but snicker at our absent mindedness, how easy it was to be completely swept away in the tide that was Spencer Reid.

His face fades a bit, though I’m not sure why. He simply nods, folding his hands in his lap.

“Sorry if this is weird but umm... can I see a picture of her? It’s just, well, it might help me to get a better idea. You don’t have to, if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“Oh yeah!”He pulls out his wallet, unfolding a long strand of small photos, most of just his daughter, a few featuring him as well.

She was beautiful, brown eyed girl with soft, brown locks. She clearly had her fathers curly hair and soft, doe eyes. If it wasn’t obvious from the way he spoke about her, the pictures made it incredibly apparent that this girl was his whole world. Pure joy radiated from the photo of the two of them. I look up to to see the exact same look on his face, with a smile so big that his eyes crinkle.

That is the moment I knew he had me. I would follow this man anywhere, this adorable dad I had met on the toy isle only hours ago. The photos made it evident that she was just as crazy about him. It was almost too adorable for my heart to handle.

I take a deep breath before meeting his gaze, which is much closer now as we lean in over the table to look at the pictures.

“She’s beautiful.”

He looks down at the photos again with glassy eyes. “I know.”

He clears his throat and scoots back into his seat.

“So what did you have in mind?”

“Well, I have seen this online story that makes really pretty hand-made dresses that mimic the ones of each Disney Princess. Maybe a couple of her favorites? They also make knit blankets that look like mermaid tales. Or maybe a stuffed animal of one of her favorite characters? What little kid doesn’t like stuffed animals, right?”

Spencer nods along, absorbing all the suggestions I throw his way. After awhile, I help him settle on ordering a few we both like.

“I can’t wait to give these to her! She always loves Christmas morning. We open presents together and eat the cookies we made the night before while binging as many Christmas movies as possible.”

There was that smile again, the one he got when he talked about her. I wonder if she knows how lucky she is to have a dad that cares so much.

I can’t help but smile as well at the thought, which he quickly interrupted with “So what are your Christmas plans?”

I feel myself turning slightly red at the embarrassment of having to admit that I have none. Nothing much that is.

I shrug, hoping he won’t ask any more about it.

“Do you get to see your family?”

And there it was. The question I was desperately hoping to avoid. I know my inability to meet his gaze and consistent pulling at my fingers would be a dead give away of my uncertainty about speaking on the subject. I search for the best way to answer without seeming like I’m overcome with self pity. To be fair, I wasn’t. I didn’t mind spending the holidays alone. Not anymore. I had grown comfortable with the silence and comfort that comes from living alone.

The soft crackling of the fire, a fuzzy blanket, and a warm cup of hot chocolate had become my closest companions of each winter season. I spent many evenings curled up by the window, watching the snow dust the city as soft music flowed through my drafty, top floor apartment. Sometimes I’d dance and twirl around in my pajamas and socks, slipping and sliding on the wood floors. So yes, it was safe to say I truly enjoyed the time I spent getting to know myself.

“I uh, they’re not really around anymore. I was adopted by my parents when I was still a baby. They didn’t have any family but each other and then, well, me. I lost them to a car crash a few years back.”

I can tell he’s listening, but the one thing I always expect to see isn’t there. Pity. Instead I see kindness and understanding, and my heart welcomes it fully.

“Nicole is on vacation with her family for the holidays so it’s just me. I’m pretty used to it though, I make my own fun.” I give him smile to reinforce my point.

His eyes glaze over and I can tell I’ve lost him to a deep thought, as I see the gears turning in his head. He opens his mouth to speak before closing it again, and finally spouting out: “Come have dinner with us. On Christmas Eve.”

I had half expected a pity invite. A “why don’t you”. A “would you like to”. But Spencer hadn’t asked me. He had told me, in a way that left no room for arguing. I could tell he wasn’t going to budge on the matter. Whether it was the insistent but kind tone or the seriousness in his eyes, I don’t know. But I knew there was no use in fighting it. Not just the invitation, but the feelings quickly flooding my heart. Spencer Reid was like a fast approaching storm, but I didn’t want to outrun the rain. I wanted to dance in it, drenched in the downpour.

And that’s exactly what I did. As soon as I saw the look on his face when I said yes, it crashed over me like a wave, leaving me breathless and lost in the sea of my emotions.

[ninja-bitch]

could you do a hxh adultrio relationship h/c with a female s/o if you wouldn’t mind pls?

This ask is sending me because I’ll be honest none of these guys would make a good bachelor. They’re all horrible. But y’know, we do be into it, so??? You probably already know that and you know anon I’m supporting you a 100%, I would too, I would. I have no survival instinct. Leorio is right there and we all fall for murderer clowns (I’m counting Chrollo in) and the grudge lady ripoff aelflzarnglkznrkz. Don’t mind me! 

Thanks for the ask love <3

Warning: For Chrollo’s behaviour tbh, quite manipulative. Overall the adultrio is pretty bad. Self care would be staying away. Pretty sure Hisoka wants to kill the reader.

Chrollo relationship HCs (SFW)

He’s a hoe who would sleep with the enemy to get information. I said what I said. Do not expect fidelity. He wouldn’t see doing that as cheating. Also, he may or may not have an ulterior motive when he gets in a ‘relationship’

He’d be an asshole. He’d be an asshole that you see once a year who brings the most expensive gifts but you don’t know what he does, he’s always vague.

Very good at speaking his way out of an argument and blame, you’d end up questioning your own behaviour. Oh but he’d be so charming, maybe he’s right?

No but he’d appreciate domesticity too, he’d find it relaxing, he’d actually force it a bit. It would all feel like you’re playing on a stage though if you pick up on his behaviour, like he’s got small tells, he’s good but maybe, maybe he wants you to find out he’s not that good of a person.

But overall very good at playing house (is that the English term???). I do think he’d be good at making someone feel loved, important and smart. He’d be quite nice, but then he would crush you with the most revealing truths about yourself that you try to ignore, he’d do it at random times. I feel like he’d like to do that and then read his partner’s reactions. He’d love to just test things, like a whole experiment. Oh human emotions, let’s see.

I feel like he’d question his own emotions too. But I don’t think he’d be one to fall in love. Maybe he could, who knows? He doesn’t know. He wants to know.

It wouldn’t be a balanced relationship. He’d kind of show up when he wants to, expect a partner to welcome him with open arms, not ask too many questions and definitely expects them to answer all of his. He’d know a partner by heart too. He’d learn to read them quickly.

Very nice conversationalist though. He’d love to share about lots of things that aren’t related to him specifically. He’d appreciate a partner that could follow and talk about anything.

If they figure out what he does he’d actually be proud. Yes ok you figured it out, I steal and kill people for a living, what are you going to do now? He’d be thrilled, are they going to be scared, are they going to ignore that, call cops? Are they going to be happy? He’d be one to date a ‘regular’ person, a civilian, so I doubt they’d be happy about that but well, they could be.

I could also see him having a playful relationship with another thief or hunter. Or even a member of the law, like a detective or something. Do you know killing eve? He’d be Villanelle.

I don’t think he’d talk about them to the troupe, unless they were put in danger and he couldn’t act on it, because despite being a distant, player bitch he still wouldn’t take kindly seeing a partner in harm’s way. If that make sense. He wouldn’t call them his partner, just someone that’s got to be protected here and now. They’d figure it out though, they don’t really care.

Illumi relationship HCs (SFW)

Now, this dude would be the one who’d come the closest to have an actual relationship with someone, next to Chrollo (who’d just be playing house again). How the turntables. No-feelings Illumi is THAT guy.

I feel like his attitude wouldn’t change much with a s/o. He’d get with them and be like, ok so now : marriage, children. Good good good. He’d be pretty blunt about all that.

First I do not know who that guy would go for. But he would make the first move, I don’t think he’d like if someone flirted with him uninvited (unless he’s already into them maybe?), you wouldn’t know I’ll be honest, but if he’s willing to spend some of his precious time with you, it’s a huge sign.

He’d move quickly, it would be overwhelming. Like hey we started dating about 2 weeks ago (And to be honest there’s no change overall in his behaviour) but here’s my mom. Don’t mind her, she’ll try and have you murdered, see if you can take it. If you have what it takes to date her son.  That is if you can open their front door. Like that’s the first step.

Nah but he’d be quite curious about a s/o’s behaviour I think. Like you’ll probably be more expressive than he is. He’d actually like that, but would also apply rules that apply to his family to a partner. Like don’t be too lovey dovey and weak that’ll put you both in danger and that might also annoy him. Though he’d appreciate marks of affections, given at the right time and place. So in private I think.

Would take forever to have a first kiss with someone, maybe they’d have sex before he does that. Or maybe his partner will do that first. He isn’t one for PDA and he doesn’t see it as a huge sign of affection. He may change is mind on that though.

I don’t think he’d fall in love, or at least not easily, I think it would rather be him and this person, his possession (almost) who he doesn’t mind much. Now if they were to really join the family that could change.

Nah but he’d always know where you are and what you’re doing. He’d leave you alone, but he would know, that’s his way of being affectionate. He’d show up unannounced a lot. Like hey I was killing someone in the neighbourhood, here’s their necklace, I thought it looked good.

He’d the only one that would genuinely remember your birthday (the other probably have ulterior motives if they do) but he wouldn’t do anything. You wouldn’t know. Good job Illumi.

Hisoka relationship HCs (SFW but also NSFW-ish)

Lmao, the WORST. Does he want to fight or fuck who knows? He probably wants both and more.

I do not think he’d get in a relationship at all, at least not a regular one. He’d visit a ‘partner’ quite a lot though. Would be one to use the word boyfriend or grilfriend just to annoy them, not genuinely.

He’d still try and fuck a lot of other people too. He’d be a far better fuck buddy I’ll be honest. I feel like he would make it sexual, strictly sexual anyway. Wouldn’t care if they fucked someone else, the more the merrier, he wants to be invited.

Wouldn’t hide what he does for a living (I mean, what does he do really?) and would love to keep his intentions to fight them known at all times.

Nah, but he’d love to play games. Like tease a partner about everything and anything, flirt, let them think he loves them and then ditch. You’d never know what the truth is. 

Oh but he’d both be very good at praising and belittling someone. Whatever he feels like doing to be honest. 

Sometimes he can be nice and more serious, those are the weirdest, most uncomfortable times. Is it real? Is he getting real with you or is he just playing? It would feel so out of character, you wouldn’t know and you’d want to trust it. Don’t

Nah but if they were to suggest a relationship, he’d find it quite fun though. I think he might get in a relationship just for the hell of it, like can you entertain him? Let’s hope he doesn’t get bored too quickly because I think he’d find regular relationships quite boring. If they were to have the same mindset he’d be thrilled. You’re both clowns.

Would be one to love arguments and start them for drama. He’d say some out of pocket shit just to rile them up, that makes him horny.

I want to say he wouldn’t take them on a date, and hell, if he did you’d probably be arrested for outrage or some shit. But would love to hang out. Would use someone as a scapegoat.

Now again, I don’t think he’d fall for someone, but he’d be able to value them a lot. He could quickly change is mind though. Would sacrifice them if it meant he could keep on living and doing his own shit. But you know, I feel like he might get a soft spot for someone. He’d realise it and ditch though. No in this fucking house. He’s not the one being played.

But he could also become very protective, in an unhealthy way. Like that’s my ripe fruit person thing, I get to harm them not you.

Now I don’t know why you’d want to do that but he’d be wonderful if you introduced him to your family. He’d be having a lot of fun. They would love him. Give or take.

[staysaneathome]

This Was Not A Dare, Reigen

Jon glares at each of the— the suspects traitors in front of him, tape recorder clutched tight in one hand.

Martin, wringing his hands uselessly, eyes wide and beseeching. Tim, fists clenched hard enough for his knuckles to go white and returning his gaze with a death stare of his own. Sasha, arms folded to form a barrier between Jon and herself, expression a perfect mask of concern. Reigen, radiating disappointment in every one of his gestures and quips. Elias, eyes weary, fingers rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Some intervention this is turning out to be.

Jon wants to scream. Wants to reach out and shake someone, anyone, until they admit he’s making sense and it’s the rest of the world that’s gone mad.

Every single one of them (except Martin) could’ve killed Gertrude. He knows he has no proof that they did, but he has no proof that they didn’t either, can’t they see that? If they don’t want him to suspect them, it should be easy for them to actually give him proof of their innocence (like Martin did), instead of just repeating platitudes of “you know this isn’t acceptable adult behavior, Jon” and “you’re better than this, Jon”.

Who cares about knowing better or acceptable behavior when it’s your very life on the line? He’s half tempted to throttle the con artist, see how dignified or adult he is when he’s the one with a murderer on his tail!

…Not that Jon is a murderer. It’s just the principle of the thing, is all.

“Jon,” Elias says, tone soothing in all the ways he doesn’t want it to be. “This is absurd. This goes far beyond an unhealthy work environment. I’ll admit it’s partly my fault for letting it get this bad, I should have intervened earlier.”

Reigen cuts in with a hand gesture that is as effusive as it is dismissive. “That doesn’t make his behavior okay, Bouchard-san. It may be bad here, but Jon chose to follow me, Tim and Sasha, and yell at Martin, rather than going to the police or paying a detective, like Herlock Sholmes or something.”

Jon sputters. “Wh- It’s Sherlock Holmes, not—and he’s fictional!”

Reigen blinks sleepily, one eyebrow raised. “Oh? That doesn’t sound right. Are you sure?”

“Yes!” Jon all but shouts, rapidly reconsidering his stance on braining the sardonic little git with his tape recorder. “Don’t you even—an-and you’re deflecting again! Just like with your ridiculous ‘haunted gun’ nonsense!”

“I’m not!” Reigen says, clearly deflecting. “I’ve seen this kind of thing loads of times as the number one psychic. When a weapon kills lots of people over 100 years, the bad energy gets bigger and bigger until the gun grows an evil spirit and is hungry—”

“I refuse to believe Gertrude Robinson was murdered by a sentient blunderbuss!!”

“Be that as it may,” Elias interrupts, shooting them both a stern frown. “This is exactly the kind of thing I was talking about, Jon. Given how badly it’s affected your work ethic, I will be taking direct action to ensure it does not continue.”

Jon can feel his shoulders hunch almost against his will, dread pooling in his stomach at the thought of whatever punishment is about to be unjustly inflicted on him.

Only Martin looks half as worried as he feels, glancing between him and Elias nervously. By contrast, Tim looks downright triumphant, smirk nasty and vindictive. Sasha’s somewhere between those two, not openly celebrating his soon-to-be-downfall, but not acting like she’d lift a finger on his behalf either, though he’s unsure why that feels like it should surprise him. She’s always been as neutral as Switzerland.

Reigen, oddly enough, has more in common with Martin than with Tim. He’s staring at Elias like he’s waiting for a bit of news he knows he won’t like.

Jon thinks he’d appreciate that more if he wasn’t about to be unfairly lambasted simply for trying to stop a murderer and bring justice for an old woman who probably died frightened and alone. Much like Jon probably will once he’s been hobbled by whatever Elias is about to say next.

“Such as by restricting access to the archives from members of the public who are ultimately doing you more harm than good.”

…Wait.

What?

“What?!” Tim, Martin, and Sasha echo.

Reigen glances between them all, blinking in confusion.

Jon shares the sentiment entirely. His punishment is…for someone else to be removed from the archives? Someone he doesn’t employ or even like that much, no less?

He must have misheard, surely.

Though maybe not, given how Tim looks aghast, glancing between Elias and Reigen. “Okay, no, Reigen’s clearly not the problem here—”

“I’m very sorry, Tim, but Jon has made several remarks about the disruptive nature of Mr. Arataka’s presence in the archives.” Elias sighs. “From the arguments like the one we just witnessed to the nonsensical purchases of oddities inspired by his presence, such as Duolingo subscriptions,” Meaningful glare at Jon who resists the urge to clutch his phone guiltily, “That are now billed on the Archives’ expenses, it unfortunately seems as though he is dragging down productivity for all of you as an active stressor.”

“But we’re much better equipped to take statements from people who don’t speak English because of that!” Martin protests, stepping forward. “Isn’t it an advantage to have a more, more international perspective for our work?”

“One positive in a sea of negatives does not an advantage make.” Elias says, sounding infuriatingly like he’s misquoting something. “And really Martin, how realistic is it that this would help in more than a few isolated cases? I expected better from you.”

Martin’s face crumples, and his shoulders hunch, making himself smaller.

Jon finds his own mouth opening to—what? Say something? What would he even say?

Luckily, Sasha intervenes before he can dig his own grave further. “That’s as may be, but he’s a wonder for morale. He and Jon are funny, not anything serious, and I don’t think we’d have come to you about Jon‘s behavior unless he encouraged us to—”

“Which only fits into the delusion where Jon feels an outsider is rallying his subordinates against him, which is not good for his paranoid outlook.” Elias replies calmly. “And it’s never a healthy work environment when one employee feels the others are making them the butt of a joke.”

“I’d say that’s not as bad as when the boss feels he has the right to violate everyone’s privacy whenever he wants to just ’cause he’s feeling sad!” Tim growls.

Elias begins to answer, before Reigen finally speaks up.

“Sorry,” The con artist says carefully. “But you are…«I know this one…» banning me from the Archives? Yes?”

“That is the long and short of it, yes.” Elias says, grudgingly

“Why?” Reigen challenges, eyes hard and searching. “What have I, personally, done that’s wrong here? What behavior do I need to correct?”

There’s a moment of silence. The whirring of the tape recorder sounds uncomfortably loud.

“Mr. Arataka, are you currently under the employ of the Magnus Institute?” Elias asks, brow furrowed.

“Ah, no, no, but—”

“Are you looking to become employed by the Institute at this point in time, as a prospective member of the Archival Staff?” He fires off rapidly.

“Su-Sorry, but if you could just go a little slower—”

“Then I am afraid that unless you’re looking to fill out an employment contract or a Statement form, we cannot help you, Mr. Arataka.” Elias spreads his hands wide. “We are an academic institution, a place of research and learning. The Institute cannot allow for social dalliances on company time, especially not when those visits are negatively contributing to the work environment and the wellbeing of our staff.”

Tim throws up his hands, “I-I cannot believe this!”

Reigen’s mouth works soundlessly for a moment.

“Arataka is my…what do you call it? First name?” He says, at last. “Using it in this context is…inappropriate. Please call me Reigen, if you would, Bouchard-san.”

“Of course. My mistake, Mr. Reigen.” Elias does have the decency to look somewhat abashed. “Though, regrettably, I am going to have to ask you to leave the premises within the next twenty minutes, or I will be forced to call security.”

Reigen nods, jerkily, hands stuffed in his pockets.

Jon almost wants to call out to the fraud as he turns to go, grab him by the shoulder, pick another argument, something. He knows he should be happy, be glad that this thorn in his side will finally stop bothering him, but instead he just feels—befuddled. Off-kilter.

What happened to the man who once spent three hours arguing for the “spiritual effectiveness” of entirely performative and useless rituals, saying that ensuring his clients left his office fooled and contented was better than actually uncovering genuine supernatural forces and learning all there was to know about them? Why is he going so-so easily now, when he’s made Jon fight tooth and nail in every debate he’s had with the so-called psychic?

At the door, the con man pauses.

“Bouchard-san. You said I could come back if I had a statement to give?”

Elias shifts in his seat, looking bemused. “W-well, yes. That is a service we do provide. Of course, the statement would have to be genuine, and verifiable as such before we let you back into the Archives.”

“We don’t even do that for most of the rubbish we do take,” Tim mutters under his breath, and though Jon is glad he’s not the one being shot a quelling look, he does have to agree.

The con man turns back.

He’s got that smirk on his face that immediately puts Jon’s hackles up on instinct, prepared to argue against whatever inane point he’s come up with now to defend his phony psychic title.

“Gotcha.” Reigen says, far too cheerfully. «Ja ne.»

Then he strolls out of the office, as cool as a cucumber.

Jon could even swear he hears him whistling as he makes his way down the stairs.

There’s a moment of stunned silence.

“I’d do him.” Sasha pipes up, unhelpfully.

“Sasha!” Martin hisses, scandalized. “D-don’t you have a, a—”

“Oh, I don’t have to worry about that.” She remarks, far too blasé for someone in a newly committed relationship. “Tom’s heard about him too, and he agreed he’s just our type.”

“And I’m not?” Tim jokes, but there’s a hard edge to it that Jon’s found himself increasingly familiar with in the past few weeks.

Sasha shrugs with a mischievous little smile, as if that mattered very little to her.

Elias coughs. “Right. Well. Whatever your relations to Mr. Reigen are, please try to limit them to outside the workplace in future.”

The rest of the intervention is surprisingly subdued. Elias gives Jon access to the footage from the cameras in the rest of the Institute, and Tim bodychecks him on the way out of the office, muttering about how nice it must be to never face any consequences for his actions. Sasha follows, the way she won’t meet his eyes a condemnation in its own right.

Even Martin doesn’t say anything to him, just bites his lip and hurries past back down to the Archives. It doesn’t sting. It doesn’t.

Even as he settles in to watch and rewatch the CCTV records of Gertrude’s last week alive, Jon can’t shake the ridiculous feeling of foreboding that’s dogged him since Reigen left.

Most of him wants to say it comes from the fact that despite the fact that Reigen has not appeared in any of the camera records for the Magnus Institute before he started his term as Head Archivist in 2016, isn’t banning him from the Archives just letting the con man run around London with impunity, with no way for Jon to ascertain his movements or motives? That instead of solving a problem, Elias has just given a potential murderer free reign to escape?

But a small part of Jon, one that never could deny the sensation of being watched, that is frozen in second-hand terror whenever he reads a Statement, knows, Knows that it this stems more from the idea that the fraud will actually accomplish what Elias has unwittingly challenged him to do.

The illogical but pervasive surety that he will do so.

Jon’s not sure if he’s more afraid that Reigen Arataka will vanish entirely, another unfortunate victim become an unsolved mystery.

Or that he’ll come back, and bring whatever he’s managed to unearth on his insane quest with him.