#Why is that apparently too difficult for so many of you

[bisexualseraphim]

Possible spicy take but I’m so bored of people crying ABLEISM!!! whenever someone has a controversial opinion such as “hi I am a service worker and I feel dehumanised when all you do is stare blankly at me or bark your order at me please smile and say hello”

As an autistic person who until just 2 years ago was so socially anxious I couldn’t go outside alone, if you’re an adult and you can’t even give someone a quick smile and a “good thanks how are you?” that’s not poor social skills due to autism or social anxiety, that’s you being a prick.

It is the absolute most basic human decency and manners to fucking smile at someone and say hello and if you’ve made it to adulthood without learning that then someone deeply failed you. It takes 2 seconds and costs absolutely nothing. Yes you may find small talk or whatever uncomfortable, but most people do and it’s just a part of life that you’ve got to learn to deal with. Being a bit awkward or uncomfortable isn’t trauma. You don’t have to tell your whole life story when they ask you how you are, but don’t just fucking ignore them. And tbh associating neurodivergence with acting like an asshole is ironically one of the most ableist things you can do

Also, I see a LOT of people daily who just walk up to service workers and go “CHEESEBURGER” without a “please” or “hello” and I know that 90% of people aren’t autistic adults who were never taught the bare minimum social skills so don’t bullshit me with that excuse. You all just want any reason to be mean or rude and it’s gross

*NOTE: This post is obviously not talking about non-verbal people or anyone else who may struggle with the simplest general conversation due to disability. It’s about people who are capable of having a normal social interaction with for example friends, but then use neurodivergence as an excuse not to treat others with basic decency

[luck-of-the-drawings]

OH ARTHUR BENNETT.. such a gorgeous and intriguing character. terribly burdened by a GRUESOME set of crimes, his light suffocated by a HEAVY century of GUILT. so tragic, so dark and broody, and yet PAINFULLY awkward in any social setting ever

[fatelcved]

btw the more i think about it, the more the idea of chiyo being one of the druids from the grove appeals to me. not just bc of the potential dynamics in that community, but also bc she's obviously gonna be so invested in those people -- the druids and the tieflings -- so the decision to move on with the companions to figure out the tadpole situation would be a hard one. and i love putting my oc's through hard things : )

[queeniewithabeanie]

The Great Great Grandmother

Dpxdc Prompt #3

In the Wayne household it was well-known that Alfred Pennyworth's word was law. It was much less well-known the circumstances that their beloved butler had grown up it. Alfred was raised by his paternal grandmother, Danielle "Elle" Pennyworth, née Fenton.

While Danny's obsession with protection led him to stay in Amity Park until every tie he had to the place joined him in the Ghost Zone, Dani's obsession with freedom led her to do anything but stay in the same place.

She moved all over Earth, then to space, then to the realms, and finally to other dimensions. When Dani found herself stuck in a dimension very similar to her own, except a couple hundred years in the past, she knew Clockwork had something to do with it. She wanted to curse him out, her obsession was freedom and Dani did not do well caged.

It turned out to not matter too much because after a year or so trapped in the dimension Dani found herself going by the name Elle Pennyworth with a baby boy on the way.

Time flew by fast and her husband had died, content enough with his life that he didn't leave behind a ghost. Elle was heartbroken, but knew a peaceful death was what he wanted.

Her son had a son himself, Alfred was his name. Elle promised herself she would be the best grandmother she could be. That turned out to be a promise she had to fulfill sooner rather than later.

Her son and his wife had died only a couple of years after baby Alfred was born, disease apparently. It didn't take her long to notice that little Freddie had taken after her more ghostly half.

He was always appearing in places he wasn't supposed to and he was far more empathetic than most any human she had ever met. Elle taught him to control his more inhuman aspects and made sure that he would never forget etiquette.

"Being able to know how people are feeling is easy for those like us," she would tell him, "but knowing how to help those that aren't feeling well whether it be physical, mental, or emotional that's difficult."

"Why do we help them then?" Little Freddie would ask, before he knew the words she had spoken by heart and the answer to his own question was carved into his soul.

"Because difficult means there's something you're fighting for, and helping means that you care."

Alfred would repeat those same words to little Brucie when he was little and to all of his many many children. He would give a small smile as he said it, Granny Elle would love to know how much her great great grandchildren took after her brother.

He couldn't wait for Granny Elle and Great Uncle Danny to meet his many grandchildren. It would be a bit awkward to explain how they both still looked like they were in their teens though. Alfred only kept up the illusion of aging because he hadn't found a good time to tell his family he wasn't as human as they thought.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Benji Blackwood fic idea: apparently he’s a shy, honourable nobleman but an absolute unhinged feral warrior in battle. I can just imagine him being super sweet with his spouse but unleashing hell to the people that hurt her?

I live for protective characters ahaha

Taglist: @pearldaisy

You didn’t know what to think of Benjicot Blackwood, you really didn’t. All you knew of the man was the stories told of how much of a rabid dog he was in the heat of battle, that the moment he gets going he’s an ruthless and unstoppable force who smiled in the face of death.

The definition of a monster on the battlefield.

So when you finally met him you were confused, for Benjicot was anything unlike the terrifying man in the stories you’ve been told, but an awkward and somewhat shy man who’s kind smile had you feeling a light floating sensation within your chest. Benjicot Blackwood had to be the sweetest, most kindest nobleman you have ever had the pleasure to meet in the Riverlands. It also didn’t help that he was a handsome man on top of that too, with his beautiful eyes and well structured face, which helped somewhat but wasn’t the most important thing to you in any regard and merely an added attribute.

‘I had a feeling your feet would have you wandered off here.’ He says with a smile that reached his eyes before making himself at home by taking up the space beside you.

‘And a good morrow to you my lord.’ You greet him as you press a soft kiss to his cheek, making your head comfortable against his shoulder, glad that it was him who had found you rather than some wandering stranger. Ben sighs as he feels himself relax beneath your sweet affection, resting his head atop of yours as his hand reaches to intertwined with yours, a reminder that this was real and that you were real because to Ben you felt more of a dream then anything on most days and he didn’t wish to wake from this dream if it meant being by your side. ‘How many times have I told you to just call me Ben.’ Ben asks you softly, pressing a kiss to your head, already knowing the answer but just wanted an excuse to hear your voice.

You shifted to look him in the eyes and smile. ‘Too many to count?’

‘Too many to count indeed.’ Ben echoed in a lighthearted tone. ‘I swear you do this just to provoke me my darling.’ He adds as he looks at you just as the light catches his eye from between the leaves of the tree you sought shade under, making him appear more beautiful than he already was as you felt his calloused hand gently caress the back of your hand. It was strange, knowing that the man of the many stories and had the rough hands that further proved those stories of his unkept rage in battle true, could ever hold something or someone as gently and as softly as he did you.

You kiss his cheek again, finding it increasingly difficult to not grasp his face and kiss him on those plush lips of his, your silently cursed Ben for making you feel like that as you found yourself pressed further into his side, looking at him as though he had hung the stars in the sky in your honour. ‘Why would you say such a thing my lord?’ You said innocently enough but the spark of desire within Ben’s eyes were evident as he moved to rest his head against yours while he whispers huskily.

‘For you are well aware enough of the effect it has over me when it’s coming from your lips specifically.’

Before you could say anything in response a group of Brackens had came out of seemingly nowhere, snickering, and the sweet Benjicot Blackwood you had come to fall for was pushed aside for the man you’ve heard tales of as he moved to stand up in response of seeing his house rival.

‘Mind fucking off back home Bracken.’ Ben practically spat the name as though it were poison in his mouth.

‘Why? So you and your little beloved can have a little moment of privacy?’ The man in Bracken house colours said humourlessly as he looked over Ben’s shoulder to look at you. ‘Why ain’t you a pretty thing, Blackwood here is lucky to have you warm his bed I’m sure of it.’ You fought back the urge to smack the vile looking grin off of his face that brought forth a rage you didn’t know you had.

Ben must’ve felt your anger from where he stood as he moved himself so that he was in the Bracken’s line of sight, staring him down with a glare that contrasted the softness that was seemingly only reserved for your eyes only, or anyone that wasn’t a Bracken that was. ‘Keep my lady’s name out your fucking mouth.’ He seethed, jaw tense as his clenched his fists, readying himself for the inevitable fight that was about to come.

The dirty blonde haired man looked at Ben as though asking with his eyes if he was being serious and almost burst out laughing when he saw the look of pure rage encompass his entire face. ‘Oh, oh you’re being serious? Is Blackwood getting mad that his lady might have wandering eyes?’ Ben took a sharp inhale at the thought of this cunt being anywhere near you, his most dearest. The man was trying to get under his skin and he was succeeding, he knew he was in the way Ben looked more and more like a man on the verge of snapping.

Testing his luck, the dirty blonde from house Bracken took a step closer towards Ben but before his foot could touch ground or his words leave his mouth, Ben already had him tackled to the ground within a heartbeat and punching the absolute shit out of him; all the while as his little friends ran away scared that they’d be next in line, uncaring that their leader was pleading for them to help him.

The fight was severely on sided from what you could see, Ben had already broken the man’s nose and his knuckles were bruised, but in the midst of the all the adrenaline he was feeling in that moment the pain was forgotten as he kept punching the dirty blonde Bracken with the foul mouth, only until he was satisfied with his work and that the Bracken was rendered unconscious.

You didn’t move or say anything as Ben stood over the beaten and bloodied man with a crazed look in his eye, unsure of how to feel, before he looking back at you with that softness and care you came to adore. ‘Are you okay?’ He asks. It wasn’t until now did you see that the Bracken did manage to clip Ben on the mouth with something sharp, causing it to spit the skin and made him bleed, but you couldn’t help but find the sight of Ben in the aftermath of a fight oddly attractive; his chest was heaving, his hair disheveled and his knuckles both bruised and bloodied.

Your silence didn’t sit right with Ben as his brows furrowed and a lump in his throat formed as he crossed over to you, holding your face in his hands, snapping you out of your daze as you found yourself distributing your face between his beautiful eyes and his busted lip. ‘I didn’t scare you did I?’ He asks, worried of what you’ll say but when you placed your hands over his own, keeping him there as a soft smile graced your lips.

‘Scared? No, oh my gods no Benjicot, you didn’t scare me.’ You reassured him, looking him over in pride and utter adoration, ‘my god you’re anything but scary, my darling you are simply Devine.’ You add sincerely and that was enough for Ben to press his lips to yours despite the cut, licking at your lower lip to deepen the kiss as you happily complied, melting into him as he held you protectively in his arms where nothing could bring you harm.

[calliesmemes]

ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED COMEDIC RELIEF

ASSORTED QUOTES FROM TUMBLR TEXTPOSTS, X (formerly known as twitter) POSTS, TIKTOK, MEMES, AND OTHER SOURCES AROUND THE INTERNET

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

“   Currently considering becoming a bother and a nuisance, maybe even a menace or a rascal. ”

“   Hungry? Eat the government. ”

“   Yes, I wanna fuck after every argument. ”

“   Silence, you uneducated peanut! ”

“  They should invent a being alive that isn’t so difficult. ”

“   Women have to think I’m hot or none of this matters. ”

“   Due to personal reasons I will be named an enemy of the state. ”

“   Being overdressed is a myth made up by people who didn’t want you to have fun and be sexy. ”

“   What even are daddy issues? Just traumatize your father back. ”

“   I LOVE complaining! You can’t take that away from me! ”

“   I went to the silly goose convention and they all knew you. ”

“   I’m simultaneously ‘I’m tired of this grandpa’ and ‘that’s too damn bad!’ ”

“   The word ew coming out of a pretty girl’s mouth holds so much power … I think that it can tear apart nations. ”

“   Someone made fun of my shoes and the whole time I just thought of ways to push them out the window. ”

“   If you’re short, simply get taller. ”

“   I better think twice? Buddy I don’t even think once. ”

“   My off putting looks, awkward demeanor, and strange behavior have captivated you. ”

“   There’s something deeply, fundamentally wrong with you. Can we kiss? ”

“   You are a fool. When you walk, clown music plays. ”

“   I mean yeah he’s evil and all but what if I were his favorite? ”

“   I really do hate thinking. ”

“   In my defense, I simply do not vibe with the law. ”

“   I’ve done nothing wrong. Except all the atrocities. Besides that, I’m innocent. ”

“   Sorry I couldn’t hear you over my internal monologue. ”

“   Of course you have white hair and trauma. ”

“   So apparently the bad vibes I’ve been feeling are actually ‘severe psychological distress’. ”

“   Stop calling me a bad person just because I’m orchestrating your downfall! ”

“   The more lip gloss I collect the longer I live. ”

“   Sorry that I am obsessed with you in the unhealthiest way possible. As if it's my fault ”

“   The multiple failed assassination attempts against me have helped build both character and self esteem. ”

“   I could be your loser boyfriend. Do you ever think about that? ”

“   Accidentally went and got myself killed yesterday, but god wont let me die so I’m back ”

“   What do you mean napping isn't a good coping mechanism? What do you mean my problems are still here? ”

“   Academic validation is required for my sanity. ”

“   RIP to everyone killed by the gods for hubris but I’m different and better. Maybe even better than the gods. ”

“   Researching the stages of grief to see if I can get them finished in ten minutes tops. ”

“   My parents were like I’m gonna make a child that is so beyond help. ”

“   It’s not easy to admit when you’re wrong, and that’s why I won’t do it. ”

“   Why can’t this family ever have a funky good time? ”

“   How do I show people that I’m more than my unethical career choice? ”

“   I fucked my way into this mess, and I’ll fuck my way out. ”

“   You look so biteable today. ”

“   Why am I suffering? I have so many correct opinions and takes. ”

“   I AM HAUNTED BY A PAST THAT I CANNOT GO BACK TO! anyways ”

“   Challenging authority, angering gods. The family business. ”

“   Third base is me telling you about my father. ”

“   Hey girl. Plagued by terrifying visions? ”

“   Got caught giving a fuck. Embarrassing. ”

“   I didn’t ‘miss’ the red flags; I saw them and thought that they looked sexy. ”

“   Do my dark circles and deteriorating health make me look hot? ”

“   I get my news from the only reliable source, cryptic symbolism in my dreams. ”

“   Another day of being a bisexual disaster. ”

“   I’m going to let myself be a little unhinged today, as a treat. ”

“   Some of you act like murder is such a big deal. ”

“   You wanna hunt me for sport so bad that it makes you look stupid. ”

“   You’re not a girlboss unless you’ve killed someone. ”

“   It’s so weird how no one ever has correct opinions about things except for me. ”

“   Hello, my love — I mean, my rival ”

“   No one is calling me baby and it’s outrageous I can’t believe it. ”

“   No talking stage. Mutual obsession and you see god in my eyes or nothing. ”

“   I DON’T UNDERSTAND HOOKUP CULTURE DIE IN MY ARMS ”

“   Yes baby your emotional walls are high and impenetrable can we kiss now? ”

“   Affection is disgusting. Drown me in it. ”

“   I am gatekeeping my respect from you. ”

“   Well, well, well, if it isn’t the consequences of my own actions. ”

“   I am equal parts fuck around and find out and please don’t yell at me I’ll cry. ”

“   Short legs, big butt. I’m a corgi. ”

“   Fuck being the bigger person; I’m going to start biting people. ”

“   Well that wasn’t very slay of you! ”

“   May I please get a crumb of affection? ”

“   I crave power! Please don’t yell, though; I’m sensitive. ”

“   You call it a near death experience; I call it a vibe check from God. ”

“   Here are some scissors. Now cut it out. ”

“   Might commit a little tomfoolery, maybe even some shenanigans. ”

“   All these flavors, and you choose to be salty. ”

“   How can I live, laugh, love in these conditions? ”

“   What if I said ‘to be honest’ but then lied? ”

“   I'm financially at a stage where I understand why people do fraud. ”

“   Yes I may be evil and morally corrupt, but I’m also incredibly beautiful and I think that makes up for it honestly. ”

“   Debates are stupid. Why would I want to sit down and argue with someone blatantly dumber than me? ”

“   I forget but I do NOT forgive.. I'm just walking around hating bitches can't remember why ”

“   Ding dong your opinion is wrong! ”

“   I’m coming for your kneecaps. ”

“   You dropped your nose you fucking clown. ”

“   Are you a fire alarm? ‘Cause you are really fucking loud and annoying. ”

“   Call me an escalator, because I let people down. ”

“   I love me a good lesbian scandal! ”

“   If you can’t run away from your problems, you’re not running fast enough. ”

“   Everything I want to do is illegal. ”

“   Don’t make me hit your ankle with my Barbie scooter! ”

“   I tell gay jokes because I am a gay joke. ”

“   Fuck! I dropped my mental stability! ”

[globalrebrand]

How long do you think it would take the reader to actually fall in love with Capitano because they're in an arranged marriage? And the other way around

Starting with Capitano!

Capitano will always uphold the values of marriage and will be a model husband. He is an a generous yet pragmatic provider. Capitano will not spoil you, but he will ensure what you have is more than adequate for your needs. However, above all, Capitano is honest and loyal, he will never lie or attempt to deceive you.

At first this ideal husband behavior is more so because he respects the institution of marriage very highly and not necessarily because of who you are, though Capitano makes an effort to get to know you. He questions you about your habits and hobbies and after a while will think about how to cater to them.

Capitano actually has rather high expectations of his spouse. I imagine Capitano was pushed to marry due to his status and position, so he will want a partner who is independent, intelligent and dutiful. He will expect the same level of respect in the union that he is giving to you. The irony is that while he picked these characteristics to get a lover who will not disturb him, Capitano is deeply attracted to diligent, mindful and clever individuals. So as the reader demonstrates these traits, Capitano begins to fall in love with them, but due to their independent nature they aren't be the most receptive to the ways in which Capitano shows love, namely by being over protective and insisting on doing everything together. He's home so seldom that what little free time he has he would prefer to spend with his spouse. This becomes especially apparent the longer you two are together.

As detailed above, Capitano possesses many admirable traits which on paper make him easy to fall for, however this ignores his blunt, keen and sometimes prideful nature which depending on who you are, could rub you the wrong way at first.

He is an acute observer even without you detailing the quotidian goings on of your daily life, Capitano will start to notice and comment. He isn't necessarily critiquing, just seeing and noting. He will casually tell you about yourself which can be incredibly jarring at first, especially if you're unused to being seen by the people in your life. However...when it comes to himself, he doesn't freely offer information which can be frustrating. He wants to expose all of your inner workings, but is very selective when divulging his own. He begins to share more freely when you earn his trust, which builds slower than his actual affections for you. Capitano will come to love you before he fully trusts you. It's just the nature of the fatui that make him so suspicious and not necessarily you. He wants to trust you but years in his position have made it difficult for him to lower his guard.

Basically, Capitano appreciates a partner who is brave, self-sufficent and above all loyal. Devote yourself to him and Capitano will find his feelings changing rather soon into your union. Ultimately it takes maybe 2-3 months for Capitano to fall for the reader.

The reader in A Lady's Secret is incredibly independent and self-sufficient young woman from a modest background who knows what she wants and doesn't require Capitano's support. She is principled, hardworking, and doesn't meddle in Capitano's affairs. In fact she develops a pretty well rounded life outside of their marriage. She has season tickets to the ballet, successfully convinces Capitano to let her have two dogs (large thick furred beasts who can easily takedown wolves) and walks them around the forest to visit their distant neighbors when the winds aren't too cold.

The reader does these activities alone because she assumes that Capitano wouldn't want to join her but when he quietly questions why she doesn't invite him she starts to incorporate him into these activities. Not all of them. Capitano has no interest in visiting the neighbors, but he can be convinced to attend a quiet night at the ballet and walk the dogs in the forest. And the reader while initially worried she'd find that his company dulled her experiences, is delighted to realize that she actually prefers his accompaniment.

They definitely butted heads in the beginning when Capitano demanded that she inform him every time she left the house. She wasn't too keen on her whereabouts being surveilled, as she was used to coming and going as she pleased. Initially he was more flexible about these things but as he began to get attached he assigned her a personal body guard which had her really annoyed with him. This led to an argument where she called "smothering" and he called her "stubborn."

The difficult part for the reader early on is that she's intensely attracted to Capitano so she starts the sexual part of their relationship right away, but her feelings for him are slower to crystalize and Capitano uses this to his advantage. When you're still arguing with him about a security detail, he'll be withholding until you agree to his terms.

For someone as independent as the reader she struggles with Capitano's desire for control over her. He's not possessive per se but he is very very over protective and unfortunately due to his position he has every right to be. She just resents that she doesn't quite feel like his equal when he frets over her like this.

However, as she comes to appreciate his company, she is more permissive of Capitano's particular brand of affection which is demonstrated through ensuring her safety. Once the reader learns to appreciate Capitano's brand of care she falls for him. He is a supportive partner and an excellent listener. He is stoic and gruff but she knows from his actions that he cares for her deeply. I would say it takes the reader about 5-7 months to reciprocate his feelings in earnest.

[mv1simp]

Just Hold On, We’re Going Home ♥️

Max Verstappen x Fiancé! Reader

I got my eye on you, you’re everything that I see (I want your hot love and emotion, endlessly)

After a particularly bad argument with his father, Max is mentally checked out and needs to be pulled out of the dark place his mind has gone too. As his fiancé, you know just what to say to make him feel your love and bring him safely home.

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, size kink, orgasm denial, I know I said I would never write subby max and that was apparently a LIE, but he’s more of a soft pure loverboy who needs you ok, you both have daddy issues, mild angst and childhood trauma, 3.1k WC

You can tell your fiancé’s mind is somewhere else right now, instead of at the intimate dinner you’re sharing at a cosy restaurant. You know this because you know Max well, having been friends before you two started dating, meeting as mutuals within the same extended group, and then online where you would both take a break from your demanding careers to enjoy a friendly grand theft auto competition.

Your friendship had gotten closer when you’d proved to be someone he could trust and always rely on. Especially when it came to talking about his father - a very multi layered relationship given that Max owed a large part of his F1 success to Jos’s discipline and the fact that, well, said discipline had involved emotional abuse on a good day and physical abuse on a bad one. It was a complex dynamic to unpack, and one that he didn’t really do with anyone - because he couldn’t trust anyone outside his family to not leak it to the media somehow. And within his family, the only one who came close to understanding was his little sister Victoria - who wanted to talk about it just as little as Max did.

However, you knew a thing or two about complex relationships with parents, growing up in a household with a luxury property developer tyrant of a father, and a homemaker mother who would never dare come between her husband and his demands for absolute perfection from his children, especially from you - the eldest. Similarly to Max, you owed a large part of your highly successful investment company and Oxford financial degree to your father’s attitude, which had been so sweet on days you performed, and then like a dark thunderstorm on the days you didn’t.

So you’d been the only one to see the look in Max’s eye one night when he’d had one too many to drink at a house party, and had wandered out into the garden by himself. You’d spotted him leaving, already having a growing soft spot for your friend at that stage, and had followed him out. It had taken you a while to find him amongst the dark sprawling bushes, but when you did, you promptly sat down next to the much taller Dutchman and didn’t ask him anything. Instead, you told him about the time you’d scored 99.9 on a notoriously difficult advanced calculus exam, and you’d proudly told your father about the result of your months of study, top in your class - and he’d responded by coldly demanding why you didn’t get the 100. What’d you say to him? Max slurred, morbidly intrigued by the story.

Nothing, I was way too upset I'd disappointed him. But I did go fight the Mathematics head professor about giving me the extra 0.1. You shrugged, telling him you probably should’ve just gone to frickin family therapy instead and saved yourself arguing for 45 minutes only to find out 99.9 was the highest possible mark anyways.

Max looked at you, blue eyes intense in the moonlight. You in turn looked back at him with nervous doe eyes, and when he didn’t say anything, anxiously started apologising. Perhaps you’d read his emotions wrong, you didn’t mean to overstep and relate to his own relationship with his father-

Max cuts you off to explain what had been on his mind. I’m sorry, you - you argued for 45 minutes with the department head for an extra 0.1? On top of 99.9? This time, when your gazes meet, you both burst into drunk giggles at the sheer absurdity of a five foot nothing, 15 year old schoolgirl going toe to toe with a grumpy old professor for such a thing.

He’d started opening up to you after that, bit by bit peeling back the onion layers, because you always met his confessions with no judgement because this was his narrative, and helped him reflect on his emotions and understand why, 20 years on, he still couldn't accept a compliment but easily responded to insults. And when you two finally became a couple after a very convoluted weekend in Ibiza - involving multiple schemes from both parties, various slutty outfit choices from Max that showed off his abs, and your use of one (1) Charles Leclerc to make his Dutch childhood karting rival jealous (a story for another time) - you’d heard the full tale of what Max’s upbringing had been like.

And now, 5 years on from the infamous Ibiza weekend, and sitting across from him at dinner as his fiancée, you know instantly from the look in his eyes what's troubling him. You touch his large hand gently to draw him back in, and with a startle he comes back to you, apologising. It’s been a shit last few races, yeah? You start, going straight to the source of his worries. And now a big one this weekend, Zandvoort, your home race.

Max sighs, nodding, grateful for your ability to pick up on what's on his mind without him needing to say it. On your drive home he rants passionately about all the bullshit decisions his team has been making and the problems with the car he's asked to get fix for months. You soothe him reassuringly, rubbing his hand where it rests firmly on your thigh as his other drives, chiming in to agree with his critiques and make him laugh with jokes to diffuse his tension.

And that night he shows you just how thankful he is for all your understanding, picking you up in a display of strength that always has you needy and dripping for him. He smirks as you beg him to take you to bed and fuck me, please Maxie, after he has you breathlessly stretched out on his large, thick fingers. Like the good fiance he is he gives you what you want, all his stress melting away with each strong thrust into your small frame underneath him, your tiny hands clinging desperately to his broad shoulders.

You're furious the next morning when you wake up to multiple calls that there'd been a massive PR scandal within one of your principal investing companies, sending your high profile clients into panic - including your father, who demanded you fly out to London right now to sort this out. You'd been ready to send your executive manager out instead, not wanting to miss this important race for Max - but he'd chuckled and reassured you he was sure he could handle it - having done some odd 200 races or another. So after giving him a guilty kiss, you two fly off in opposite directions. You'd meant to have arrived to the paddock by Saturday noon at the latest, in time for qualifying at least, but London takes longer than expected. You don't come until halfway through the race on Sunday, and see him take P2 after multiple mistakes on the track - both from him and his team. Despite the objectively good result, you know Max would not be pleased. Seeing the stormy expression on his face on the podium after he'd tersely greeted you post-race, you give him his space to cool off, knowing it's not personal. Instead you catch up with the other WAGs and laugh at Charles who still faintly blushes at the sight of you, thinking about Ibiza. But later, when you head to the Redbull garage, you hear raised voices arguing in Dutch - before Jos emerges from Max's room and storms away. You pause before deciding to go in, gently asking how he's doing.

Max, as you expected, scoffs and sarcastically asks how do you think he's doing. You continue reassuring him, being used to seeing him like this after a bad race, and place a soft hand on his shoulder to soothe him - only for him to rip it off you almost violently, making you flinch in surprise. He yells at you to stop pretending like you understood a damn thing, as if you'd have any idea what kind of high pressure he has to deal with compared to your comfortable office job.

You manage to hold it together as you tell him you're going to leave, you'll be flying back to Monaco and will talk to him there once he's calmed down. He rolls his eyes, telling you to get out, then and you make sure you're well away from the paddock and in the privacy of a car before you left yourself cry. Max had definitely been angry around you before, even enraged - but you'd never felt the full brunt of it come out and attack you so directly. Taking a deep breath, you focus on calming yourself down, as the argument brings up your anxieties from your own father - who had no problem raising his voice when he was angry. By the time you land in Monaco, you're ready to head back to the office, where you end up accidentally sleeping on your couch after tidying up the rest of your PR scandal.

The next day as you're coming home from work, unlocking the door to your shared apartment with Max, you stumble forward when the door is yanked open. On the other side is your rather panicked looking fiancee, who says that he'd thought that you- he swallows, looking like he was about to be sick -that you'd left. Forever. Perplexed, you tell him that you’d never do that, not without talking to him, and he launches into a frantic apology, saying that he regretted his words so much, that you didn't deserve to have him take his anger out onto you. Grateful for the sincere apology, you let him know with a genuine smile, saying that you're completely okay now, you had understood he’d been frustrated in the heat of the moment.

But Max's worried looks at you don't stop as you wander off to take a shower and then continue over your favourite dinner that he'd cooked, uncomfortable with the compliments you gave him about it - as per usual, still struggling to accept a kind word about anything he did. When you feel his upset gaze on you again when you're cuddled against his shirtless chest, watching a movie, you decide enough is enough and pressed pause to gently ask him what was on his mind.

That I just let all my anger out onto you like that without any hesitation. And the things I said about your job not being important - God, it’s something my dad would have said. His guilt at having hurt you with his cruel words make his blue eyes bright with the threat of tears. He says he couldn't just accept that you'd let it go because you thought it was fine, because it wasn't, not really, don't ever let me speak to you like that again, schat.

Bringing yourself up to straddle your fiance's wide lap, you settle in comfortably and closely examine the helpless look in his pretty eyes. It's rare for Max to get so worked about something like this, being the rather laid back guy he is off the track. But when he does get like this, all pent up from stress, his father’s expectations heavy on one shoulder and the fear of turning out like him on the other, there’s very few ways to pull him out of his head. Gun to your head, you’ll admit, you had your own personal favourite method for helping Max unwind. Because on nights like these, it's the the only time he'll hand the control over to you in the bedroom and the only place where he'll accept your compliments. With a teasing smile, you pepper him with gentle kisses, erasing away every tense line on his face.

Sure, Max you whisper breathily into his ear, biting the edge of it, I guess I did forgive you too easily. Maybe I should make you work for it, hmm? A delicious pink flush spreads across Max's cheeks, making you grin wickedly and press deep kisses into his soft mouth. He breathlessly whines when you pull away to tease your hand down his muscles chest, stopping just above his low waisted sweats. You can already feel how hard he is underneath you with the impressive semi he’s sporting. Choosing to ignore it, you climb off him and pull him along with you too. He follows you like a lost dog to where you walk over to the kitchen, dropping your hoodie as you went, to reveal a cute La Perla pink set underneath that he'd given you for an anniversary.

When you stop to lean against the counter, eyeing him coyly, he tilts his head down curiously - only to have you tangle your small hands through his messy, long locks and guide him all the way down, until he's on his knees below you. He looks positively delicious, all soft and flushed, as you coo that he needs to prove just how sorry he is, by putting that mean mouth of his to work and eating you out, yeah?

He nods eagerly, burying his large nose right into your core and breathing in, licking furiously through your thin panties and when he tries to yank the lacy garment out of the way, you swat his hand back, telling him no, not yet, he didn’t deserve it.

He whines openly then, teary and breathless against you as he kisses along your thighs, the swell of your ass, and then to your delicate ankle as you teasingly stop him coming any closer with a foot to his toned chest, your gold anklet dangling. Running a hand through his hair again, you tug on it firmly so you can smirk down at him when he begs you please, schat, I promise I’ll be s'good for you-

Your resolve is crumbling at seeing your normally in control fiancé reduced to putty in your small hands. Trying to maintain your willpower, you teasingly pull your pink bralette off first, enjoying the way Max's breath hitches, eyes wide with pure need, as he follows your hands ever so slowly slide your panties down your legs. But he still doesn't move, fists clenched into his thighs, desperate blue eyes looking up at you, waiting for your approval to touch you. You throw him a bone and slide one soft thigh over his broad shoulder, your other leg still leaning against the counter, giving him irresistible access to your dripping pussy. Go on then, baby, you tease, here's your reward.

He buries his tongue into you in half a millisecond, eating you out like he's kneeling at your altar and worshipping your thighs. His large hands squeeze your curvy ass, pulling you even closer onto his tongue as he hungrily eats you out like a starved man. You're moaning sweetly, telling him he's doing so good for you, it feels amazing, that you wonder how the world would react if they knew their favourite F1 champion was as good at eating pussy as he was at driving racecars.

Your praise has him keening, now desperately kissing and sucking your core, and somehow both your thighs have ended up draped across his strong shoulders, his large palms still squeezing your ass. This angle lets him slide in deeper than you’ve ever felt his mouth reach, face completely buried between your thick thighs, and with a few more talented flicks you’re lean back against the counter and squirting right onto his waiting tongue.

Dazed from the intensity of your orgasm, it takes you a few minutes to come down from your high, and Max slowly licks your clit in the meantime, toeing the line to overstimulation. Standing back up shakily from potentially the most mind blowing oral you've ever had in your life, you tilt his chin up to look at you with a gentle hand, giving him a kiss because he was such a good boy, all for me, yeah baby?

He nods furiously, almost looking like a cute Labrador with his blonde hair and blue eyes and you giggle at the mental image, telling him he’s earned his next treat. Max practically stumbles after you as you gently tug him up by his jaw and back over to the comfortable sofa, where he sits down after you playfully shove his chest. His muscular thighs spread wide to make a perfect throne for you to climb onto. He's still in his boxers, his bulge straining against the damp material, and you tease him with a smug smirk, asking if he'd already cum in his pants just from eating you out, like a dirty little perv?

He desperately moans out his No, no, promise I didn’t, held it all back to fill inside you, please- He becomes breathless from your mean hands that tease his cock further through his boxers. When he tried to redirect you, guiding your hand under his boxers to where he really needs it, you shove him away and tell him to keep his hands to himself. You demand to know why he thinks he deserves to put his gross, sticky cum anywhere near your sweet, precious hole, is he at least going to use some manners and ask politely?

Max pants, face flushed and blonde strands attractively stuck to his forehead as he feverishly begs you, please, schat, he needed to be inside of you so bad, he couldn't take it, hadn't he been so good for you already? You can tell your fiance is close to his tipping point, and you almost send him over the edge with a smooth motion as you slip his fully erect, huge cock out of his boxers and start lazily jerking him off. Sliding your fingers into his mouth for him to lick, you smirk as he does exactly that. Using his spit on your hands to give him a couple good pumps - making his breath hitch as he struggles to hold back his orgasm - you guide his throbbing length to your dripping pussy, which is so ready for a second round.

Max screws his eyes shut, head thrown back, as you wickedly torment him some more, dragging his tip teasingly along your puffy lips, drenching him with your slick. His hands dig into the sofa, desperately trying to resist the urge to touch you like you'd ordered him to earlier. And when you finally sink down on him, all the way to his base, he's moaning and begging again, tears in the corner of his eyes as you slowly ride him - edging his poor cock with the relief of your tight, warm cunny but not giving it quite enough pressure. And when your thighs are starting to get tired from the effort, and Max has ripped holes on your sofa while gripping the fabric, you know it's time to let him take control again.

Guiding his hands gently to your waist, you lean forward into his firm chest to whisper Maxie, baby, it's too much for you, can he please help you out and make you cum again-

His eyes snap open, wide blue eyes coming to stare into your pleading doe ones as you hand the power over to him, all dished up on a silver platter with a pretty please. He brings his forehead forward to lean against yours, your ragged breaths meeting as you feel shivers run up your spine in anticipation of what’s coming. Then, with an all too familiar smirk returning to his face, he tightens his hands into a bruising grip on your waist and easily begins bouncing you up and down on his fat cock. His wide thighs, which had been straining in an effort to hold back, now flex as he thrusts deeply into you from below, making you wail at the furious change in pace and you're screaming his name, proving once again just how good he makes you feel. You two barely last another few seconds before you're cumming, your name on his lips as he pumps an obscenely thick creampie into you.

You stay like that for a while, sweaty and tangled in each others arms, exchanging gentle kisses and loving affirmations with him still deep inside you, until sleep starts to take over. Later, after you'd showered because wow, that had been a particularly filthy session, you find yourself stroking his damp hair as he lies against your chest, the rest of his body on the bed to keep the weight off you. Thank you, liefje, he murmurs sleepily against you. At your inquisitive hmm? he presses a loving kiss to your skin, telling you his thanks was for always knowing how to calm me down. For always bringing me back home. I love you.

You smile in the dark, warmth blooming across your chest as you press a kiss to his head. Always, Max, just like you do for me. I love you too.

---------------------------------------------------------

A/N: SOO i never thought i'd write this but after zandervoot im manifesting the return of max supremacy with this. had to rewrite a bunch of times cause genuinly couldn’t picture max as sub instead of dom so lmk what u guys think!! Also… should i do a part 2 where its the reader with daddy issues instead hehehe 😼😼😮‍💨

[apollosgiftofprophecy]

I think another reason why I get rather annoyed when people hate on ToA Apollo is because how hypocritical their criticisms are.

I just saw a post talking about how great it is that Annabeth gets to show a lot of emotion, especially by crying. I also recall moments where she got frustrated or angry, and I found myself absolutely agreeing!

But then my thoughts turned to Apollo, another character who shows a lot of emotion.

But you know what he’s called for being frustrated, or upset, or for crying?

Whiny. He’s called whiny.

Apollo gets frustrated when he’s unable to perform something (archery) he used to be extremely good at. He’s upset that he can no longer use a bow correctly.

And people call him whiny for that. Apparently, those people have never experienced, let alone heard of The Gifted-Kid, something all Gifted-Kids (hello, tis me, Gifted-Kid since 4th grade RIP) can relate to Apollo over.

You were really good at something but all of a sudden you can no longer perform it as well? You’re not hitting your usual mark?

Well too bad, according to the fan base, you should shut up and not be so awfully whiny! It’s just archery!

(That was obviously in jest but you get my point.)

Additionally, Apollo never complains about important things. He complains about having to walk, but not the injury that’s literally turning him into a zombie and physically tormenting him.

That post really made me think about this, and then I asked myself; “Why? Why are people’s thoughts so different on Annabeth v Apollo showing emotion?”

It became apparent rather quickly, if you ask me.

Annabeth is a woman. Of course she should be able to show emotion! also maybe deep-seated sexism of ‘women are emotional’

Apollo is a man. And God forbid men show emotion I guess smh so also sexism

Because think about it. How many of the RRVerse male protagonists were allowed to cry? To be fully, and undeniably, upset?

I can only remember Frank crying on the plane after his grandmother’s presumed death, and Grover sniffling/getting teary-eyed in PJO. I don’t recall Percy, Jason, Leo, or Nico ever crying, or really having powerful bursts of emotion.

Yes, yes, Percy and Nico have both gotten mad and unleashed their fury upon someone, but that’s not what I’m talking about here.

I’m talking about letting them feel, letting them be emotional.

Not a burst of anger. But real, genuine character-driven emotion.

The fact that I can only name Frank and Grover from the previous two series is truly saddening.

Apollo gets to feel. To let his emotions flow freely. He whines, yes, but he also gets frustrated, he gets upset, and most of all he cries.

That all makes him a real character, someone people can relate to.

I’ll admit I’m a rather emotional person too. I have a quick temper, and more often than not the water-works come on real quick when I get upset. It’s a normal emotional response, but it can be difficult to work with, especially when you’re trying to stay calm.

Apollo is the first RRVerse protagonist to be allowed to have feelings— strong ones, even. And I can relate to that. There’s a reason why Apollo, Reyna, and Annabeth are all favorites of mine, and that’s because I see myself in them.

Annabeth is prideful. I can be too. She gets obsessed over her work. I do that too. Hates spiders? Oh hell yeah.

Reyna gave me someone to connect with over my sexuality. Ignore that Rick mixed what aro and ace are for a moment please She really gave my demiromantic self somebody to relate with, because the lack of aro rep is criminal. and no the Hunters are not aro rep

Apollo is emotional. He’s made mistakes and wants to do better.

Who wouldn’t see themselves in him? I certainly do.

And yet, he gets called whiny for having the literal rug pulled out from under him again and again, and he doesn’t even let himself complain over what he should, absolutely complain about!

Idk. I think there’s a lot to be said about how this fandom treats emotional characters, especially based on gender.

I guess this is all to say don’t judge a fictional character, because you’re judging a real person too.

And real people have feelings, you know.

[dewdropdinosaur]

Little Fire Lies

SILCO X READER

Summary: Silco is puzzled, why wouldn't he be? His long-time assistant has apparently been harboring secrets from him and he didn't know. What he doesn't know, however, is how much his curiosity will come back and bite him...on the neck.

Warnings: Cussing, mentions of torture and sex. PG-13. Inspired by 1) Season 2 coming out soon and 2) @silcoitus because I read all of their stuff religiously. Word Count: 3500 words.

Silco's expression softened as he listened to her humming. It was a familiar song that echoed the anger and pain felt by many of the citizens, including himself. The anthem of the revolution, a strange choice for a song to hum during the work day.  He knew it well, having heard it many times before. He stood there quietly, listening to the tune with a mix of understanding and resignation

"You're an interesting one, you know that Y/N?", he said under his breath, his gaze still fixed on her form.

Y/N peers at him from her periphery 

“Hmm? Is that so?”

Silco smirks lightly, his gaze still fixated on her.

“You have a habit of using songs to express your thoughts and feelings, don't you? It's quite an unusual, and somewhat impressive, way to cope."

Y/N huffs and mumbles 

“There are worse coping mechanisms”

Silco chuckles at her comment, a smirk forming on his face. He nods, knowing all too well the truth in her words

"That's true, I suppose. I've seen my fair share of unhealthy coping mechanisms in this city. But I must admit, yours is certainly the most... creative I've come across. And oddly fitting, considering your... talent."

Y/N finally raises her head from her paperwork, quirking a brow and eyes narrowing toward the man. 

Silco's smirk grows slightly, a hint of playful banter in his tone 

"Oh, you know what I'm talking about, Y/N. Don't play coy now. Your uncanny ability to stay completely calm and composed, even in the most precarious of situations. I've seen you handle difficult negotiations, tight deadlines, and volatile clients, all with a level head and a smile on your face. It's impressive... and slightly unnerving."

A hum follows. 

“Well, thank you...I think.”

Silco chuckles again, leaning slightly against the desk in front of Y/N.

"It's both a compliment and a note of caution. It's remarkable how you can remain so unfazed by anything. But it also raises the question of what could break that unshakable composure, if anything at all."

Y/N, even the world at large, could see the dangerous curiosity in Silco’s eyes. The Eye of Zaun has always been a man of deadly inquiries, even to those who he trusts most. A way to test loyalty and more so, a way to test vulnerability. She could feel fear creep into her throat as she realized what was happening...an interrogation 

“Thus far boss, haven't found anything yet.”

Silco's gaze remained intently fixed on her, his expression unreadable. He watched her every subtle reaction, the way her eyes might glance away, or how her fingers might fidget slightly.

"Oh, I don't doubt that," he says, his tone smooth and steady, yet there's an undertone of danger "You've always been good at hiding your weaknesses, haven't you?"

She keeps her expression neutral and her tone casual despite her brain running rampant 

“One has to in this line of work–”

Silco nods, silently applauding her facade of calmness. He leans back from the desk, crossing his arms as he continues his questioning.

"True," he responds, his eyes never leaving Y/N’s face, "In this city, showing weakness is a dangerous game. I've seen more than my fair share of people fall thanks to a single moment of misplaced honesty."

Silco's gaze becomes more intense as his voice drops to a lower tone

"But everyone has a breaking point, don't they? A moment where the facade slips, where the careful control is lost. Tell me, Y/N, what's yours? What would it take to break that calm facade you wear."

Y/N pauses, racking her brain for bullshit answers but none come to mind. A flurry of lyrics comes to her brain, the coping mechanism to calm herself but alas she can't voice the fears. Turning to face his intense gaze, her eyes betray nothing that is going on in her head 

“I implore you to figure that out on your own, boss.”

Silco's gaze continues to bore into her skull, his face unwavering. He leans back slightly, his eyes never leaving her as he ponders the response. A hum erupts from his throat, a soft smirk playing at the corners of his scarred lips. He can see the subtle flicker in her eyes, and the slight tightening of her jaw, indicators of the internal battle she’s fighting. He would applaud the facade if it hadn’t been one defended against him. 

 He takes a step closer, his voice low and deliberate

"Now you're just being stubborn," he says, a hint of humor in his tone "But then again, when have you ever been anything but." He pauses, his gaze still intense "You're hiding something. I can feel it in the air. Something you don't want to admit, even to yourself."

She turns back to her paperwork, softly humming 

“Like I said, you can figure it out...on your own.”

Silco lets out a huff, a mix of irritation and frustration at the continued display of nonchalance. Taking a step closer, he towers over her.

"Oh, you really think I won't find out, hm?" he asks, his voice low and almost challenging.

"I've found out everyone's secrets and weaknesses, eventually. What makes you think you're any different?

Y/N felt her heart race at his proximity, a small silent gasp leaving her lips.

“Because...you trust me. You said so yourself.”

Silco pauses for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he processes the bullshit response. He slowly circles the desk, his footsteps echoing in the silent office. His movements are slow and precise, like a prowling tiger stalking its prey. He stands behind her, his presence practically enveloping her form; pinning her between his chest and the desk.

"You're correct," he says, his voice a low rumble "I trust you far more than I've ever trusted anyone else. But trust, as you know, is a fickle thing. It can be broken, sometimes irreversibly."

Y/N’s palms start to sweat, heart pounding inside her chest. She can't admit defeat...even to him. 

“Silco, please. Just let this one be.”

Silco leans down slightly, bringing his face close to hers. The air is thick with tension as his voice drops to a soft rumble, his breath warm on her ear.

"Give me one reason, just one, why I should let this go. Why I shouldn't pry and dig until I find what it is you're hiding from me."

His tone is smooth, almost seductive, yet there's a hint of danger underneath. He is determined to uncover this secret, unwilling to back down this time.

“It’s—it’s really not that important….”

Silco's smirk widens as he notices the slight blush on her cheeks, he’s winning. Leaning in closer, his nose almost touching the base of her neck, he lets out a hum, a low and dangerous sound.

"Not important, huh? If it wasn’t important, you wouldn't be so reluctant to reveal it. I know you, Y/N. You're hiding something deep, something that even you may not fully understand."

He moves even closer, his body almost pressed against the small of her back as he whispers "Just tell me, darling. I can keep a secret."

Y/N holds back a whimper at his closeness, the way his breath tickles the sweet spot on her neck 

“Boss, please don't–”

Silco lets out a soft chuckle, his voice low and gravelly. He can feel the tension in her body, the way she’s struggling to hold back her reactions to his closeness. He moves even closer, his body now fully pressed against hers.

"Don't what, Y/N? I haven't done anything."

He leans in further, his nose now tracing along the flesh of her jawline, his breath warm against the skin.

 "All I'm asking for is honesty. Is that so hard for you?"

“Fine, okay! I’ll tell you…just promise you won’t overreact.”

He can practically feel her resistance crumbling, the way her body responds to his touch. He's enjoying every response far more than he should, but he can't help it.

"Finally," he says, his voice a low rumble "Now that wasn't so hard, was it? Go on then, tell me. Let me in, darling."

Y/N pauses, closing her eyes in a silent prayer. 

“I am in love with...you?”

Silco freezes, his eyes widening at the confession. He was expecting anything but this, the words coming out of her mouth, the honesty in her trembling voice, the revelation of love, it was all too unexpected, too dangerous, too...perfect

He steps back slightly, his eyes fixed on her as he processes her words. The room is silent except for the soft sound of the ragged breaths escaping from his mouth He continues to stare, his heart pounding in his chest, the silence between her thick and heavy with unspoken emotion.

Y/N sighs and places her head in her hands, running them through her hair in frustration. 

“See why I didn't want to tell you?”

Silco's expression remains stoic as he continues to stare at her, his mind racing. He can feel a mixture of emotions coursing through him: shock, disbelief, excitement, and...fear. He takes a deep breath, trying to collect himself before speaSilco

"Y/N..." he begins, his voice thick with emotion "Are you...sure? About what you said?"

Y/N nods slowly and closes her eyes in a plea for a swift end should it come.

“Yes...fuck I–I can't help it, boss. Look if you just wanna fire me, I will never see you again and we don't have to talk about this at all–”

Silco's expression softens at the words, his heart clenching at the thought of her leaving. He reaches out, his hand gently lifting her chin, forcing her gaze to meet his and silence the rambling.

"I'm not going to fire you, you stupid girl," he says, his tone both frustrated and gentle at the same time. He lets out a sigh, his eyes locked in a steely gaze. 

"How long have you felt this way?"

“I have worked for you for 3 years so I would say about...a year of that time.”

Silco's expression darkens slightly at the words, his frustration growing at the realization that she had been hiding this for so long. His fingers tighten on her chin, his hand not letting Y/N look away for even a second.

"A year..." he mutters, his voice low "You've been feeling this way for a year, and you never told me, never even hinted?"

“What was I supposed to do, admit that not only I loved my boss but the King of the Underground himself?”

Silco huffs in disbelief, his grip on her chin tightening further. His eyes are locked on her features, demanding attention, and submission.

"Yes." he says firmly "You should have told me. I can't read your damn mind, Y/N. You just expect me to know your feelings, to know what's going on in that pretty head of yours?"

“I didn't want you to know! That's why I didn't tell you–”

Silco's expression hardens as he glares down. His fingers dig deeper into her chin, his touch almost too painful, waxing possessive.

"Why not? Why did you want to hide this from me? Don't you trust me?" he asks, his voice a rough growl "Because if you don't, why the hell have you been worSilco for me for the last three years?"

Y/N whimpers, his nails digging into her chin in a way that will surely leave bruises.

“I trust you I promise, I was just scared…I have seen you do worse things to people in this line of work boss.”

Silco huffs at her words, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. He can't deny the truth in them, but he doesn't like being reminded of his brutal nature, especially not in this moment.

"You think I would treat you like those other people, like one of my employees?"

His voice is a low rumble filled with both anger and something else, something he can't quite name. Y/N tries to pull her chin away, the bruises forming already from his grip

“That's what I am though, your Y/N.”

Silco's grip doesn't waver as she tries to pull away. His eyes darken as he feels his control slipping, the anger and frustration boiling up within him. He leans down closer, his face inches from hers. 

"Damn it, don't do this. Don't belittle yourself and don't reduce what you are to me to just an Y/N. You know it's more than that, damn it."

Silco's eyes flicker back and forth from her lips to her eyes, his control hanging by a thread. He can feel the pull between them, the unspoken tension that's been growing over the years. He can see the desire in her eyes, the need for something more than just a business relationship, and it threatens to break him.

"Damn it, Y/N," he mutters, his voice a low, rough whisper. "Don't look at me like that."

“Like what boss?”

Silco's eyes bore into her skull as he tried to hold onto the last shred of control he had. He's been keeping his feelings locked away for so long, and the innocence, the honesty, it's breaking him down, making him weak; and he hates it, and he loves it.

"Like you want me," he growls, his voice hoarse "Like you want to kiss me."

Barely above a whisper, the Y/N voices her finality “But I do want you, always have.”

She places her lips softly on his, allowing him to push her away, denying his affection should he choose it. Silco's eyes widen in surprise as her lips touch his. The last ounce of control he had evaporates like smoke. He hesitates for a moment, the conflict between reason and desire raging within him until finally the latter wins out. With a low growl, he pulls her closer, his hands wrapping around her waist as he kisses back, fiercely and hungrily.

One hand grips her waist, the other clutches her neck to pull her closer. The kiss is messy, full of tongue and teeth. Fierce and hungry, a place where she is not in charge.

Silco's lips leave her, a whine escaping her throat at the loss, but he moves to her jaw, peppering kisses along the skin, his teeth nipping at her jawline. He can feel his self-control slipping further with each passing second. He's wanted this for so long, and now that he has it, he's not holding back. His hands explore her body, tracing over her curves, possessive and demanding.

She moans softly as his teeth nip the sweet spot on her neck, hands tangling themselves in his neatly combed hair; head dizzy with want

“Silco–”

Silco smirks as he feels her hands in his hair, his ego stoked by her need and the sound of the soft moans that break from her soft lips. He continues to kiss and bite at her neck, enjoying the way her body reacts to his touch. He lets out a low growl, his voice a rough rumble against her ear.

"Say it again," He orders, his teeth nipping at her earlobe "Say my name, darling."

"Say my name, louder, I want to hear you moan it."

The Y/N gasped as his teeth continued their assault on her neck, his possessive grip leaving a small trail of bruises on her hip

“Silco please–”

The Silco shivered at the sound of his name. It sounded like honey, a dulcet candy for only him to hear. Only she could call his name like that and he would make sure she did it for the rest of her life. He can feel himself losing control, it’s driving him further into dangerous territory. His lips continue their assault on her neck, sucking and biting, marking her as his, making her beg in a way that's so damn satisfying.

"Please what, darling?" he growls, his hands gripping her hips tighter, grinding her core against him "You have to tell me what you want."

A tug on his hair and a wave of arousal pool and paint a spot on Silco's pants. The tug effectively ends his lip's attack on Y/N’s neck. Her eyes are blown with desire and her hair is disheveled as a thin line of salvia drips from puffy lips. Her neck is marked with the purple and red emblems of his handiwork. 

“Please kiss me again.”

Silco's eyes widen at the sight below him, marked as his possession, hair disheveled, lips slick and wet, it makes his heart race, his body tense and needy. He almost laughs at the question, not believing she would think he could refuse such a request.

"You don't even have to ask," he growls, his voice low and full of desire "I'll kiss you as much as you want, darling." He pulls her closer, his lips crashing into hers fierce and dominant; his tongue seeking and demanding.

Y/N allowed his tongue to explore her mouth but soon slows down the kiss, letting the fit of passion fade and lead the way to a more slow and sensual one. One that expresses that this is more than carnal, it's an unspoken quiet desire that consumes her heart and soul. 

Silco's eyes dilate at the sudden shift in the kiss. He can feel the change in energy, the way the kiss becomes slower, more sensual, more loving. It makes his heart clench in his chest, and for a brief moment, his mind whirls with emotions he's never felt before.

He responds to the change, matching Y/N’s pace, his hand going to caress her cheek lightly, his thumb tracing over the skin. Though, he eventually pulls away, breaking the kiss with a soft gasp. The intensity of the moment, the way the kiss had changed, it had completely thrown him off guard. He gazes into Y/N’s eyes, his expression a mix of a million different things: desire, love, confusion, fear. He exhales, one hand still caressing her cheek, trying to find the words to express what he's feeling, but they all seem to get lodged in his throat. 

Y/N takes the pause to caress his cheek, tilting her head in mild confusion as to why they had stopped. Maybe he had decided he regretted it, maybe she had overwhelmed him maybe–

Silco leans into her touch, his eyes flutter closed for a moment as he relishes the feeling. He had never been touched this way, with such gentleness, such tenderness.

Y/N gives him a broken smile, while his expression is unreadable, she can sense he is struggling with something

“It's okay...you don't have to know how you feel. We can end this right here if you want.”

“No," he says, his voice rough and urgent "No, I...I don't want to end this. I just...I don't understand. These feelings, these emotions, they're all so damn new to me, I don't know how to cope with them."

He let out a frustrated huff, running his hand through his hair. Y/N let out a chuckle, sitting up in her chair and allowing him to kneel on the floor before her. Running her hands through his hair and settling them by cupping his cheek. Gazing into the eyes she has come to adore

“Then how about this. We take this one step at a time yeah?”

"One step at a time," he repeats, his voice a quiet murmur. He nods, opening his eyes to meet yours once more

"I can do that."

“We can do that”

Silco's heart lurches in his chest as Y/N says ‘we’ and he can't help the small smile that plays at the corner of his lips. The fact that she is so immediately willing to walk this path with him, to help him navigate these unfamiliar feelings and emotions, means more to him than she could know. He reaches up and covers her hand with his, holding it against his cheek, his thumb tracing small circles against the skin.

"One step at a time. Together."

[fatuismooches]

Every time recruits were assigned to a Harbinger, they were required to give a speech to the new agents. It was simply the way the Fatui worked - everyone must be made aware and dedicate themselves to the Tsaritsa's will through working for the Harbingers. The experience varied from Harbinger to Harbinger - if one were lucky enough to be with the Captain, they'd be filled with a sense of pride and bravery, if they had the misfortune of working for the Balladeer, well... one could guess how that goes.

Dottore's orientations were also anxiety-inducing, no doubt, considering the kind of reputation he had. Most recruits prayed day and night not to be selected to work for him. It was a very popular rumor about how easy it was to end up as a test subject of Dottore's. However, what many recruits quickly realized was that... working for Dottore was not as bad as many claimed.

Sure, some segments were definitely more difficult to work with than others, but it was actually preferable to working for certain other Harbingers. Just continue to produce results, and you'll be fine. Surprisingly, there were a sizeable amount of agents who adored Dottore. They would rave about him at any given opportunity to anyone who was willing to listen, and that didn't even include their signature handbook. It was also said that if you truly impressed him, he wasn't picky about rewarding you. Unfortunately for new recruits, they were still unaware of this and were left to shiver with their hearts in their throats, awaiting their impending doom.

Even worse for those poor souls, was that a habit of the segments was that they were notoriously late to these meetings, diving deep into their research and discarding it until the last minute. You learned this through idle conversation with one such segment, Beta, who especially despised this baptism.

"So... you just stood there and gave a speech to them?" You couldn't help but find the idea very funny, considering the kind of man he was. "What are your speeches like? Are you motivational, Beta?" He scowled at your teasing and focused his frustration on his latest creation.

"I don't have the time to waste on foolish things."

"Isn't it a good thing to encourage your employees?"

"This is the Fatui. They know what's expected of them," Beta scoffed as if he hadn't turned certain agents into flying robots in the past.

"Aww, but it sounds fun! I would wanna talk to them like that," you sighed. Most of the time the agents would bow, stutter, and quickly make themselves scarce when they saw you. Certain ones would just stare at you in awe silently as if they couldn't believe their eyes, and then scribble something in their notepad. You were unsure of their motives.

"There's a reason why Prime has never attended one himself ever since he created his first segment. All of us fill up our schedules to avoid it," the segment grumbled. He was the one stuck with the duty today. You only hummed in amusement.

"So when is the next screening of new recruits?"

"Tomorrow morning. Hmm, Omega's turn this time too. He's best at these things, anyway." You smiled as you had a very good idea.

"I'm going to go!"

"Are you now? Have fun." Beta responded dryly. Now that he thought about it, if you were so eager, perhaps he should have brought you to do most of the speaking.

"I will. I'll get them to be the most motivated Fatui agents there is!"

—

For a small group of people, they were starting their mornings with possibly one of the most frightening experiences of their lives. It was only natural for them to whisper to each other, all huddled up.

"I wonder if the rumors about Lord Dottore are true. Is he going to dissect us if-"

"You know what I wonder? What segment of Lord Dottore we'll get assigned to. I heard-"

"He has segments???"

"Apparently, he cloned himself at different stages of his life, so we'll deal with numerous versions of him."

"... As soon as the time comes, I'm putting in a request to transfer out of here."

"And that will be your biggest mistake. Lord Dottore is far more generous than you lot make him out to be."

"Pardon?"

"Lord Dottore is quite frequently praised by many agents around here. You just haven't heard them yet. Furthermore, he'll always appreciate results, regardless of your actions." The Dottore defender passionately gripped his chest. The group looked unconvinced.

"Are you sure they weren't under duress or something...?"

"Well, I've met his spouse once too! And [Name] was as kind as-" The poor agent was interrupted by laughter.

"Spouse? The sun would sooner shine bright in Snezhnaya than Lord Dottore ever being married."

"Is he even capable of love?"

"It's not a lie. Many agents who work for our Lord know them! In fact, they-"

"Ahem! Attention everyone!" A voice sounded in front of the room, that was... definitely not Dottore's. There stood a person who was... definitely not Dottore either. The room went completely silent as they gazed upon your rather proud form.

"You all were expecting Dottore, but I, [Name], will start this thing off first!" The glint of your wedding ring became all too noticeable for the new recruits as your eyes scanned the crowd. "Oh, hey! You're that guy I gave directions to a while back! You really did transfer over, huh!" You gleefully waved to him as he scratched his head, in both embarrassment and honor, and the agents suddenly had a feeling that the man was not lying about Dottore's marital status.

"Anyway, I'm gonna ask you all the question I know you're all thinking about. You're absolutely terrified of Dottore, aren't you?!" You pointed at them while their throats were dry from the situation. After a few seconds, they glanced at each other before nodding awkwardly. You only chuckled as you puffed out your chest.

"Well, I'm going to erase all those fears right here, right now. As the person who knows him better than anyone, I can assure you he's a great Harbinger to work under! And to do that... I'm going to give you all a crash course on Dottore's segments! So go on, ask me anything and I shall deliver!" Your resounding confidence was met with blank stares, save for the new inductee into the fan club.

"Are they really Lord Dottore's lover?"

"Well, they have to be... no one can just walk around casually claiming to be married to him."

"I mean... if someone like Lord Dottore is able to fall in love, then he can't be too bad, right...? We should listen to them."

One by one the nervous agents asked you a variety of questions - how to deal with them, how to tell them apart, what to do if they were annoyed, a few quirks to look out for, the kind of work efficiency he valued, the kind of sweets they most favored when it came time to pacify them- the more you spoke, the more engaged the new recruits got. You were rather proud of your skills.

"And if that wasn't enough motivation for you, do it for him!" In the end, you pulled out your one and only pet, the strange blue fox creature who blinked at the crowd who was loudly clapping for some reason.

"You know, I feel a lot more confident about working here!"

"I told you all, you just didn't believe me," the one fan said, still over the moon. But even amidst the commotion, a pair of shoes neatly echoed throughout the room, causing everyone to nearly fall silent at his presence.

"Oh... that's Lord Omega, right? His mask is black." Said agent got elbowed by another for speaking, as they all bowed lowly in respect. The segment was more interested in what you were doing here.

"... [Name], what exactly is the meaning of this?" The segment studied you carefully - despite your sweet smile, he didn't exactly have the best feeling about this.

"I gave them a speech of course! You need to motivate them more, you know? For the results you love so much! I just decided to do your job for you." Your lover stared at you and then turned his attention to the group who were standing stiffly.

"Is that so?"

"Y-Yes, Lord Dottore."

"Then you are all dismissed." The group blinked before quickly shuffling out of the room, mostly in awe at how casually you spoke to the Harbinger. You really were married...

"Just trust me Omega, those guys will be some of your most hardworking agents!" Omega looked at you thoughtfully - their demeanor did seem much better than when he spoke. But he still had a lingering thought that bothered him.

"[Name], you didn't tell them anything potentially... inappropriate, did you?"

"Inappropriate? O-Oh, of course not, Omega. I merely boosted their spirits into working for you!" You smiled, ignoring how his gaze was boring into you.

"That's all?"

"Yes, that's all!"

"..."

"..."

"Well, actually, I-I may have told them about the sweets thing again- hey- don't get closer!"

[topazadine]

Writing Post Masterlist

All my posts about writing - plus some I absolutely loved by other writers.

Masterlists by Other People (all good)

"Writing Tips Masterpost" by @deception-united - Deception-United has an incredibly wealth of resources available, far more comprehensive and detailed than mine. Go check it out!

"WQA Post Master Lists" by @writingquestionsanswered - Another fantastic and wonderfully comprehensive resource that covers damn near everything you need to know about writing. Genuinely one of the best free resources on writing that you could find on the internet.

General Advice for a Happy Writing Life

"The Myth of the Martyr Artist" - An incredibly important post, perhaps my most important one ever, that discusses why mental illness is a burden, not a benefit. I have no idea why this even needs to be said, but it does, apparently.

"Building Self-Esteem as a Writer" - Why you gotta be nice to yourself. You gotta.

"Identifying bad writing advice" - Warning signs that the post you are reading kinda sucks and you should click off.

"Advice to Beginner Writers: The Good, the Bad, and the Unpleasant" - How long it takes to become a good writer, what to focus on when learning, and why fanfic is such a useful tool.

"Mindset Shifts: Fanfiction -> Original Fiction" - What fanfic writers should know about deciding to take on original characters and stories.

"Defeating Protracted Writer's Block" - What to do when you find it impossible to write for days, weeks, or months at a time.

"Five Common Anxieties of Newbie Writers, Demystified" - Explorations of five mindsets that can set younger writers back as they learn their craft, including overcompetitiveness, overdescribing, and fearing they're "too old."

"Good Motivations for Continuing to Write" - Why it is crucial to have a passion for writing beyond fame and fortune.

"Extremely controversial writing opinions that will make you mad (but I'm going to say them anyway)" - Things you really don't want to hear, but need to be said. A bit of tough love, including the insignificance of ideas, the cold hard truth about how non-writers react to your writing, and the essentiality of having a well-rounded life.

"Why Mindfulness Is a Key Practice for Writers" - On the need to slow down and let our brain rest - plus some options that are categorically not sitting there in dead silence (boring).

"Writing When Happy" - Wherein I hijack someone's question to discuss the Myth of the Martyr Artist, why we might self-limit because of it, and how to do the impossible: write when we're happy.

"The Neurodivergent Writer’s Guide to Fun and Productivity" by @bookishdiplodocus - Excellent advice on how enjoying the process and reminding yourself that writing is supposed to be fun can help you stay motivated and productive, even when your brain is not cooperating.

"The Glorification of Self-Deprecation in Art/Writing Spaces" by @nicolkoutoulakiauthor - I've discussed before how crucial it is to have a healthy self-esteem when writing, but Nicol does it even better here. Nicol also includes some excellent reframing tactics so you can stay motivated.

Generalish Writing Advice (multifactorial)

"Signs That You Will Probably Finish Your Writing Project" - An analysis of the mindset that leads to results, and encouragement on how to develop them.

"'How Do I Start Writing?'" (Or; A Psychoanalysis of Newbie Writer Fears) - Inspired by the dozens of Reddit posts that ask this exact same thing, often with useless responses. So why do people ask this? I offer my theory.

"I Can Think of Ideas But Can't Write Them!" - A consideration of the many reasons you might find it difficult to get started on your precious idea-baby.

"How to elevate your writing style with 6 simple hacks" - Information about how to develop a prettier prose style, catch errors, develop good dialogue, and focus on brevity.

"How to improve your writing style : a 5-steps guide" by @writer-logbook - Especially great information on why reading widely is so helpful for your craft!

"Some Writing Advice" by @whispers-whump - Especially great discussion of why you shouldn't write what you mean.

"Practical Writing Advice Part 2" by @so-many-ocs - Does what it says on the tin. Simple, easy-to-follow advice that can break you out of writer's block.

"25 Prose Tips for Writers" by @thewriteadviceforwriters - I absolutely love the emphasis on sound and harmony here. As someone whose entire book series revolves around the magic of poetry, of course I think this is incredibly important advice!

"Pacing and Show Don't Tell" by @mylordshesacactus - Two for one deal! First, learn more about why pacing is important; then, look at some examples of the classic advice "show, don't tell." The post does a great job on breaking down what show don't tell actually means and what is not a violation of this guideline so that newer writers aren't confused.

Writing tools

"How to Build a Sustainable Writing Habit Through SCIENCE (Fuck Off, NaNoWriMo)" - Why NaNoWriMo doesn't actually motivate young writers and how to do better through a spreadsheet (yes, really, a spreadsheet). It also explains the importance of intrinsic motivation!

"'I've Outlined Too Much and Now I Can't Write!' (Or: the Double Outline Method for Overanxious Plotters)" - Some of us tend to go absolutely ham on our outlines, to the point where they're practically their own books. But then we also tend to not actually do the writing attached to said outline. Does this mean outlining is useless? Of course not. My method lets you have your outline and eat it too. (.... Wait.)

"'How Do I Make Myself Start Writing?' (Tips to Get the Damn Thing Done) - In this post, I provide a step-by-step guide to start writing, including a few tools to help improve motivation and concentration.

"How to Write Faster (And, Hopefully, Better Too)" - Eliminating distractions and forcing your brain to write is key to getting more done. Here, I explain how you might be limiting yourself by too much thinking and not enough doing.

Worldbuilding

"Stop Making Everything So Damn Complicated!" - Why fantasy (and scifi) does not need to be dizzyingly intricate to be enjoyable.

"How to Kick Ass at Worldbuilding" - I offer some suggestions on how to create a grounded and interesting world that will not bore your readers, based on real life examples.

"Grounded vs. Airy Fantasy" by @aethersea - Excellent breakdown of different levels of groundedness in fantasy and why it's important to understand your own approach.

"Fantasy Guide to Building a Culture" by @inky-duchess - Thorough and methodical analysis of what can create a compelling fantasy culture, including those things that many fail to think about when writing.

"Writing tip - Research" by @pygmi-cygni - Fantastic assessment of the importance of research, including for fantasy stories. As Pygmi-Cygni said, a lot of people claim that they don't need to do any research for fantasy novels, which isn't true! Any parallels to IRL need to be realistic, or you will lose credibility.

Plotting

"How to Use Chomolungma for Writing Adventure Stories; Or, the Plot Mountain Method" - If you're sick of saving felines who should really figure their own shit out, it's time to head to Plot Mountain. In this post, I offer you an alternative to the formulaic "Save the Cat" and "Hero's Journey" which also incorporates tension, characterization, and forward momentum.

"Avoiding Melodrama In Your Writing" - The most annoying all things: melodrama. My least favorite thing. Do not do it. I will show you how.

"How to Find a Plot When All You Have is Characters and Setting" by @rheas-chaos-motivation - This is a common problem for many writers, when you have cool characters or an intriguing setting. This short post can help you kickstart your ideas for how to create an intriguing plot that has built-in tension.

Description

"Remembering Perspective When Writing Descriptions" - Key factors to think about when describing other characters or settings from your POV.

"Description, Momentum, and Tension; Or, How Not to Bore a Reader" - Why, when, and where to put description so that people don't skip over it. Hopefully.

"Writing Notes: Seasons" - Each season has both benefits and downsides. In this post, we look at the negatives and positive aspects of each so you can decide how a particular season may strengthen your themes - plus some descriptions to help inspire you.

"Writing Advice: Spicy Mundanity" - Wherein I explain how to stop having boring descriptions by packing in characterization.

"How to Write Smut?" by @unfriendlywriter - Wonderful examples of how to write heartstopping smut.

"How to pull off descriptions" by @fictionstudent - Fictionstudent has a ton of great posts, both about film analysis and about the art of writing. I especially liked this one because it discusses how important perspective is for descriptions and the importance of filling in the details as a character would rather than just throwing it all at the reader at one time.

"How to avoid White Room Syndrome" by @writerthreads - Fantastic and focused advice on how to ensure you're offering readers just enough setting to help them envision the world.

Characterization

"Writing Relatable Characters; Or, Using Human Failures to Your Advantage" - Explaining how you can use character flaws and human needs to create a relatable character. Also explains the basic development of a plot, which is about equilibrium.

"How NOT to Write a Character" - Wherein I give you some examples of annoying characters we want to punt off a cliff so you can watch yourself.

"Writing Strong Female Characters" - Why you should give your female characters a secret goal, as well as how to avoid common 'strong female' stereotypes.

"Writing Compelling Trauma in Fiction: Dos and Don'ts" - How to avoid melodrama and create intriguing emotional wounds for characters.

"Quality Assurance Checks for Character Development" - Thought exercises that can help you differentiate characters, prune down unnecessary characters, develop true chemistry between LI and MC, and avoid having too many POVs.

"Developing Character Agency (Or; Cutting the Plot Strings)" - A discussion of character agency and how to ensure your characters are not bound by the narrative.

"Writing Notes: Thought Distortions" by @literaryvein-reblogs - Some psychological concepts you can use in your writing to add depth to characters.

"Questions about your character’s perspective on love and relationships" by @luna-azzurra - Excellent questions that can help you delve into your character's attachment style, what baggage they may bring to a current relationship, and how to create conflict through mentality.

"How to Write a Confession of Love," also by luna-azzurra - Perfect discussion of how to create tension, the utility of setting, not making it perfect, and including the other character's response.

Revisions

"Common Writing Issues that Reduce Readability" - Examples of fixes for four common issues: double describing, long sentences, overexplaining, and head hopping.

"How to Avoid Purple Prose" - A critical part of the revision process is making sure your writing is clear and balanced. In this post, I show a blatant example of purple prose and provide suggestions on how to make a more elegant passage.

"Differential Diagnosis When Your Writing Is Getting Worse" by @ariaste - Fantastic explanation by a professional writer about why you might feel like your writing is getting worse and what to do about it.

"How to Make Your Writing Less Stiff Part 3" by @physalian - Physalian's whole blog has some excellent advice, so definitely give it a look!

"How to Improve Your Writing" - Also by literaryvein-reblogs, this offers some excellent exercises to help with sentence-level issues, such as modifiers, parallelism, and details.

Publishing

"How to promote your book online : a discussion about social media (and few tips)" by writer-logbook - Great tips about how to get more interest in your book. I especially enjoyed the emphasis on patience and consistency. Writer-logbook has some excellent info overall about the nitty-gritty of writing, so I definitely recommend poring through their blog in general. (That's why they're included here twice!)

"A masterclass in how not to market your books, in one singular tweet" - Wherein I help you derive lessons from an abysmal tweet by an author.

"Mistakes I Made When Self-Pubbing My First Book (Part 1: Mindset Edition)" - I talk about how being delulu is not the solulu, that yes marketing is important (even if it is horrible), and how a bit of self-confidence can go a long way.

"Mistakes I Made When Self-Pubbing My First Book (Part 2: Presentation Edition)" - Graphics and covers and blurbs! Learn about them. Do not do what I did.

"Mistakes I Made When Self-Pubbing My First Book (Part 3: Ads and Reviews Edition)" - Why you have to get reviews. You gotta. And you gotta demand them. Shake those reviews out of your readers. You'll thank me later.

Specific Research Advice

"Assassination Methods Through the Decades: A Writer’s Handbook" by @hayatheauthor - A thorough review of different assassination methods, including a section discussing common assassination methods by region!

"How to Write Someone in a Wheelchair" - A group effort! This is a reblog chain discussing body language in manual wheelchairs, the mechanics of power wheelchairs, wheelchair propulsion methods, and a reminder that just because someone is in a wheelchair doesn't mean they can't walk short distances.

"Writing Research Notes: Caves" - Oh caves how I love them. Caves. Let me tell you about them if you want to write about caves. Blessed.

"Writing Research Notes: Horses" - A beginner's guide to horse mindsets, whether horses like working, approaching horses, how to ride, and tips on training.

"Writing Research Notes: Bipolar Disorder" - Written by me, a writer with bipolar disorder! This shares basic facts about bipolar, offers a list of symptoms you can use, and cautions you against spreading misinformation through poor characterization or myths.

"Writing Research Notes: Politics" - I provide a quick overview about governments and international relations, based off my suffering while getting an MA in International Relations.

"Stop Doing This in Injury Fics!" by @pygmi-says-hi - Discusses some common errors when writing whump/angst. The fever part was especially helpful for me!

"Writing US Military Characters" by @lookbluesoup - An explanation of the habits and mentality of US military characters. Many of these were quite helpful for my fantasy military characters, so you can get a lot of mileage out of these for soldiers in other militaries too!

Little Funsies

"What Painting Style Is Your Writing?" - A short exploration of different writing styles to help you better understand your own approach.

I'll be adding onto this as I continue to scroll through my old likes and, of course, as I find more resources.

[animeyanderelover]

•Prompt #-29 obito uchiha •I always imagine all the uchihas (separately) as asylum patients since they are very "intense" and reader as their psychiatrist.

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, threats, intimidation, manipulation, gaslighting, guilt-tripping, an asylum, they are crazier than normally, death, violence

Tags: @shumidehiro @swagenemyartisan @cachamata

Uchiha's in a mental asylum

Otsutsuki Indra

💜​Indra as a patient would be very difficult and you would probably only be one of many psychiatrists that have attempted their luck with him only to fail. It's no secret that he looks down on most people in the station from the patients to the staff. Arrogant yet angry, after having read through his files you figure out that he seems to have a severe inferiority complex after his younger brother was chosen as a successor to a quite successful business as the father did not see a prospering future with Indra as the new CEO. Only very few people know about this though as it is a delicate topic to be touched. One wrong word could after all lead to Indra being triggered and attacking someone as such incidents have happened in the past before with severe injuries for people around him. The first few sessions you don't get remotely close as Indra isn't even looking at you, giving you a cold shoulder as he just stares at the paintings on the wall with a bored look, his fingers drumming against the armrest of the sofa as you try to spark a conversation or at the very least gain his attention. You'd have more success with a wall though then with Indra.

💜​Apparently ou endure much more than the psychiatrists before you as one day suddenly his black eyes are on you, observing you coldly as he remarks with a tinge of annoyance that you are far peskier than those before you. Slowly he goes from ignoring you to putting you down, trying to crack your own self-esteem. He doesn't like that you think that you can just walk in every day and expect to fix him. Who do you think you are after all? He should be the one in control. It should always be him. He constantly tries to undermine your achievements and your knowledge, observes sharply for any flaws like a hawk to use those to crack your composed facade. That's how he has gotten those before you to quit but you are infuriatingly resilient. Indra hates that. He hates that you stand up against him even though you should avert your eyes as soon as you see him. Why aren't you backing down? The fissures appear within his own facade and you carefully try to navigate through them to reach him. You venture dangerously close to emotions that haven't been touched upon in a long time as Indra gets more and more fixated on you, unwilling to pull back and lose this mindgame.

💜​He pays so much attention. He pays too much attention. That is his mistake and his downfall. His emotions are deeply troubling, the intensity of them only adding to the decay of his walls. He loses that intimidating coldness around him as he is far more agitated. He starts collecting as much information as he can from other patients or from the staff, feeling humiliated as he acts like a beggar on his knees for any scraps of information. You only want to help but that is not how Indra sees this situation. No, instead he views it as a personal defeat, as a humiliation that adds another wound to his soul. Unable to allow history to repeat itself and see himself failing to claim something that should have been his once more, he almost gets desperate. During the next session you have with him, his full attention is on you, something that has never happened to this extent before. The look of anger and resentment is on his face the entire time, something you try to talk about with him. He doesn't instantly reply though as he instead slowly rises and walks over to you until he is towering over your seated form. Black eyes threatening to devour you as he bends down and whispers lowly that he will have you soon.

Uchiha Madara

🌑​Uchiha Madara has landed in a mental hospital after witnessing the murder of his younger brother and only family he had left. Ignoring all offers of therapy, his mind had only been set on revenge. Revenge he did get but there wasn't only the blood of one person on his hands. There was a time where he used to get triggered by anything that even remotely reminded him of the killer of his younger brother which led him to attack innocent people hence why he was sent to a mental hospital. He's gotten over the worst phase though not due to the sloppy attempts of the staff or his psychiatrists. You are told that Madara is prideful, easily bored with a tendency to do whatever he wants because he knows that most people stuck here are far too scared to stop him by themselves. Indeed, he seems to have very little respect when you introduce yourself to him during your first session. He's just sprawled on the couch, arching his back like a lazy cat. Only occasionally does he seem to think that you are worthy to be graced with a bored gaze of his before he stares at the ceiling again. You prove to have guts though when you tell him to sit his ass down when he attempts to leave.

🌑​Quickly you figure out that he seems to enjoy a little bit of banter and courage, all which you seem to possess. He's been bored to tears in this place as he admits to you. Everyone seems to be on eggshells in the hospital, no one can take a joke and everyone is always tired and so easily upset. There is just no fun in this place to be found. You're the first person in a long time who is that courageous enough to stand up to him yet it could only be a fleeting spark. So to not get his hopes needlessly up only to be left disappointed, Madara decides to test you out. He makes sure to be extra cocky, smug and intimidating during the following sessions to see if this place will infect you with the same anxiety as it does everyone else. You pass that test with flying colours though, keep that spunky spark within you alive and well which has his heart fluttering. Suddenly he starts looking forward to his sessions with you as around you the air is fresh, not stagnant as it is around everyone else. More than once he attempts to see if he can make you lose your composure but you hold on to your self-control very well and he respects that, especially since he has seen lots of people crumble in this place.

🌑​Perhaps it is only logical that Madara would find himself so fixated on you in a place that normally sucks the soul out of everyone who steps remotely close to the building. You actually look and act like you are still alive and stable, have kept your humor and your energy with you. Madara almost feels the urge to protect that fire within you to keep it from being extinguished. You sense it more and more how he attempts to flirt with you though you don't indulge him to not give him any hope or to encourage any illusion. However, he starts feeling quite possessive of your time as he requests your service more than once only to waste sessions other patients might need. You know why he is doing this after all. When he finds out that you have started tending to another patient, you sense the subtle shift within his expression. His eyes narrow as he lets out an intrigued hum. For safety reasons you do ot tell him any names but it was foolish of you to think that Madara wouldn't find out otherwise. Your next session with him is cancelled as you are informed the next day that he was put into a solitary cell after he murdered another patient yesterday who just happened to be yours.

Uchiha Obito

🔥​Obito is someone everyone approaches with caution, someone who is often kept isolated from even other patients as there have been more than enough incidents that led to serious injuries and an outburst of panic and fear within the station. Obito had to witness how his own girlfriend was brutally murdered in front of his own eyes, unable to save her. When the police arrived in the scene the entire place had been coated in human stain and he had attacked everyone who had gotten close to the dead body of his lover. He has never gotten over her death, hears in fact still her voice in his head. Whether he is awake or asleep, his mind is unable to let the memory of her go. His girlfriend is his life and he has nearly strangled one of his psychiatrists when they dared to suggest that he would be able to heal as soon as he would accept that she was gone and let go. What did they know about him after all? No one would ever be able to understand him. The only person who did was his dead lover and since then Obito has developed a very cynical view on the world, has even verbally degraded patients who had made progress in their recovery. That's when you enter the scene.

🔥​For your own protection Obito is kept separated from you as you talk to him from behind a translucent wall so that the both of you can at the very least sill see each other with your eyes. He doesn't even bother looking at you, one cynical glare full of bitterness is the only thing you receive before he stares at the floor, tuning out of reality as he focuses on the voice of his girlfriend within his mind. Long hours you spend sitting there with him, asking him questions only to be left ignored. That process is repeated for days on end. Until one day he randomly interrupts you as he just tells you that he has no interest of getting better and that there would be nothing worthy out there for him anyways. It's the first time that he has actually spoken to you and you view it as a win for now. It's the first step that slowly betters the relationship you have with him. Most of the time he just attempts to push his negative mindset on you as he finds your optimism disgusting and useless but you don't give in. You are a constant presence within his life and after eternities of isolation actual human contact seems to have an unexpected effect on his mind. He starts hearing your voice in his head too.

🔥​Sweet words that his girlfriend used to speak to him are suddenly spoken with your voice in his mind, quickly deteriorating a mind that is already broken. As Obito is loyal to death though he finds himself forced to face the reality that his girlfriend is dead as he falls dangerously in love with you. She gives him her blessing though before she leaves him for good, wishes him his happiness with you and he sheds tears when she goes until he has a headache from crying. The moment she disappears, all his infatuation and desperation is fired at you. You figure that out the next session. The moment he sees you, he slams himself against the protective glass separating the two of you all whilst you stumble back in shock. His nails claw against the thick glass until they are bloody, black eyes staring at you with sickening infatuation as he tells you that he has finally let his girlfriend go as if he expects something for that in return. In his mind he does though, he gave her up so that he could love the you in the world of the living. A heavy sacrifice he committed out of love and devotion and in his mind is deserving of your own affection and love.

Uchiha Shisui

🍂​Shisui has always been someone who chose to not share his thoughts and worries with anyone. After all he grew up in an environment surrounded by people who hailed him as a genius and a prodigy. Vulnerability would have equalled weakness and failure, both attributes he wasn't allowed to have. So instead Shisui has always buried everything deep within him. For years pain, anger and feelings that he has never dealt with piled up until it all resulted in one massive meltdown that got him in the mental hospital that he is in still to this day. He hasn't heard anything from his family ever since he was brought here as only his best friend still keeps in touch with him. Shisui doesn't know if they are too ashamed to be associated with him anymore or if they are too scared after witnessing his mental breakdown. He suspects that perhaps it is a mixture of both of those theories. He can still joke with other patients, he stands up if someone is unfairly treated but it is undeniable that he is still quite lonely as all relationships he has built are ultimately superficial and shallow. Perhaps this is just the price that he has to pay after he failed the expectations that were on his shoulders.

🍂​In comparison to other patients that you have had in the past, Shisui is one of the easier ones. He responds to all of your questions politely, he tells you openly when he doesn't want to talk about something and he seems actually interested in keeping a conversation with you. Even you he manages to fool. In reality Shisui has no real interest in therapy and the different methods that people like you try out to get a patient to open up. However, he knows just how taxing and ungrateful the job of everyone involved in this facility can be and the very least that he can do is to actually act decently around you and so he does exactly that. As much as you attempt to not let it show, he senses that the sessions that you have with him are almost a break for you as you know that he won't scream, threaten you with death or insult you. That's why he shoulders yet another responsibility as he decides to make your work just that little bit easier but he doesn't let you nor anybody else notice that. Secretly the roles are almost reversed in that sense as he eases your nerves whenever you have a session with him. With that sense of responsibility comes a sense of attachment though.

🍂​Almost immediately does Shisui sense that attachment grow, spiraling out of control in a pace that almost frightens him. He doesn't know what it is that has made those emotions of his react so intensely but he knows that the damage has been done and that there is nothing that he cando now. What he does know is that he needs to keep you engaged now that it has gotten so far. Slowly he pretends to open up, admits thoughts and feelings to you that he has never spoken about before to create the illusion that you are getting somewhere with him. To Shisui it is obvious that as long as he is still stuck within those walls, his chances with you are slim and little. He needs to play the long game if he wants to have a realistic chance with you and he is committed to play it. His manipulation is subtle but steady, enough to invade one's mind gradually without them even noticing. When there is someone within the facility that he feels the need to get rid of he never does it himself. No, instead he manipulates someone else into doing it without taking the blame. After all he is always watching, knows all about every relationship and weak point about the staff and the patients.

Uchiha Itachi

🍡​Itachi is a silent shadow within the facility. He never stands out, he has never once made a ruckus or caused trouble for other patients or the guards. However, it seems like he is doomed to walk across the floors like a ghost haunting the place. He has no friends, has made no attempts at all to socialise and that has essentially led to no one knowing really anything about him. He feels like a stranger even though he has been in this institution for quite a while now already. Only the files that you receive contain information about him and his past but beyond that no one really knows what he is like. Apparently pressure and expectations from his family have accumulated into one massive mental breakdown for Itachi after years of stuffing everything away deep within his heart. The guards reveal to you that they have only really seen him talking and expressing emotions when his younger brother visits him. The relationship between his father and him is completely estranged and even his mother struggles to reach him though around her he is not as motionless and cold as when he is faced with his father. They tell you that so far he has never opened up nor spoken with any psychiatrist that he has had.

🍡​You can quickly attest to the truth of that statement. Itachi actually doesn't ignore you. He looks at you and listens to you when you ask question but he answers none of them, your voice the only sound that cuts the silence between the two of you. Initially you remain optimistic but as session after session passes you slowly start to get frustrated with the lack of results, something that the other staff notices as well. They comfort you, tell you that you're not the first one but the looming possibility that you may be given another patient instead gets slightly on your nerves. At one point you actually start talking less with him as both of you end up doing your own thing instead as you run out of ideas. Ironically enough it is during one of those sessions of complete silence that he speaks for the first time and all because you bring a book full with stories for children with you which you plan to read to your neighbour's kid for tonight. You notice how his eyes flicker over the cover of the book, his head turning. When you ask him hesitantly what is going on he seems to contemplate for a few moments before he eventually admits that he used to read the same book to his younger brother back in the days.

🍡​You discover that he is more likely to talk about fond memories that he has with his little brother than about himself and soon you realise that all of his positive memories involve Sasuke as he can't even recall one good memory he has had with his father, a stain that always seems to ruin any happy memory that could have been made. You make progress, surprise even your collegues. Itachi talks to you, he actually reveals bits of his thoughts and feelings to you and you listen intently, always thinking how to help him and slowly help him. What you fail to notice because they are so subtle are Itachi's growing feelings for you. You have a weird effect on you that lowers the walls he has built around his heart which makes it harder to keep those emotions under the grasp of control that he has always kept them. He knows that he can't admit that to anyone though, not even to you. You would be removed from the position of his psychiatrist and he can't allow that to happen. Not after he has started falling in love with you albeit in strange ways. Similar to Shisui, Itachi is going to play the long game with you and lock his feelings for you away as good as he can for now until the day he is released.

Uchiha Sasuke

🩵​Sasuke is difficult to handle. A look within his files reveals why he is that way though as his past is marked with more tragedies than most people will experience throughout their entire lives. His entire family was murdered by his own brother who was wanted by the police for years only for Sasuke to track him down years later. His older brother, murdered by his own hands only to find out after he had been arrested by the police that they had found out that he had been blackmailed as Sasuke would have otherwise been murdered as the youngest son of a prominent chief. One can only imagine what he must have gone through after that information had been revealed to him as he had just killed his last family member with his own hands, the blood still sticking to his fingers. When he had initially been delivered to the psychiatric ward he had been nothing but a bundle of rage, anger and hatred. Unwilling to get on friendly terms with anyone, harsh words shot at ay person who had gotten too close to him or had even remotely tried to get to know him better. Even violence hadn't been that unlikely from him which had resulted in him spending a lot of time in the solitary cell.

🩵​By the time you are appointed to be his psychiatrist Sasuke has learned to deal with his rage better though it all is still simmering within him. He's just managed to control it better. He's disinterested when he is forced to attend his first session with you though. You are only one of many faces after all and he's sure that you too will leave sooner or later. There is one specific reason why you have been appointed to him though. Your mother actually knew his parents as she worked in the same station as his father and perhaps that's why you are believed to have better chances with him as your mother has told you a lot about his parents. The moment he finds out, that dismissive attitude changes as you notice it in his eyes during the next session as they inspect you with a hint of hostility and unease. It's uncomfortable, the thought that you may know more about him than people should know about him. His past is what makes him vulnerable and because you have more personal information about his parents and potentially even him it makes him feel exposed. He's definitely more on defense after he knows that though at one point he can't help but ask what you all know from your mother.

🩵​He lives in the past, you can tell that as you indulge him and tell him of memories your mother has told you about his father and his mother. The most talkative you witness him is when you tell him about the past as his happiness only exists within that place. He clings to what was and you want to try to shift his focus to the now. In a way you succeed, though perhaps not quite as you had imagined. Sasuke bonds with you over his past, bonds with you. It's the first time that he has actually formed a functioning relationship with someone ever since the death of his brother and his emotions almost instantly latch on to you as a result. Sasuke is demanding. If he is going to have a future in this world then you will be in it. One way or another he is going to have you in his life and he doesn't need your consens for that. You should rejoice though, after all you can do exactly the job you are supposed to do for him. You can help him to get better, to start a new life. Sure, the methods might be vastly different from what you are supposed to do for your patients but he's sure that you will do whatever it takes to help to get him better. Otherwise he mightdestroy the progress you have made with him.

[itsnevercasual]

Infinity

pairing: college au!harry x reader

summary: The guy next door likes to blast music. You maybe-sorta-kinda really like him.

warnings: cussing, not edited, im not in college idk how it works…

—

You didn’t want to be annoying. Truly, you didn’t. But you and your roommate, Daisy, were asleep.

Or…

Trying to be.

It was difficult with the blasting music next door.

And honestly, you had tried to avoid it. Had let them play their loud music for months now. Sent Daisy over to tell them to shut up so you didn’t have to (because despite her name, she was terrifying when she got mad).

But.. really?

It had to be, like… three in the morning. They’d been blasting it since nine pm, and you hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep.

So, clad in your bunny slippers, pajama pants you stole from someone (don’t ask who, you don’t remember) and a Fleetwood Mac shirt four sizes too big (because that was all they had at the thrift store), hair pulled back into a very messy braid, and glasses you rarely wore because you liked yourself better with contacts (mainly because you were so blind your glasses made your eyes look bigger), you stomped on over.

You pounded on the door (not really.. your knock barely made a sound), and miraculously, they heard you and opened the door.

A boy opened it.

No. Not a boy.

A cute boy. A very, very cute boy.

You blinked in surprise. You had expected girls… were boys even allowed on the same floor as girls?

“Ehm.. can I help you?” he asked after you were silent for a little too long.

“Oh. Right. Uh.. would you mind turning the music off? I have a final tomorrow, and.. I’m next door, so.. I can kinda hear it. On full blast. Um.. you don’t have to turn it off.. just.. down..”

He sighed, turning into the dorm to shout, “I told you to turn it down, Lou!” he turns back to you. “Yeah. Sorry. My mate’s practically deaf, I’m pretty sure. Doesn’t realize how loud he is… you say you’re next door?”

You nod.

“You got the alarmingly scary roommate named after a flower?”

Another nod. Why was he making small talk? You wanted to sleep.

“Ah. Glad y’didn’t send her over.”

He eyes you up and down, giving that sentence another meaning you didn’t really like.

"Right. Well.. just.. turn it down, please," you give an awkward smile and nod.

When you turn to walk away, he stops you, "’ey-- little rude to not give me y'name, isn't it?"

"Oh. Uh.. I’m Y/N."

He grins, "Well, hello, Y/N. I’m Harry."

You nod, pursing your lips as you pull on a strand of your hair.

There’s a beat of silence, and you contemplate just throwing yourself off a bridge, honestly.

"I'll see you around, Y/N."

With that, you scurry off to your room. Despite being uncomfortable in the moment, it wasn't because of him. You just were horrid at talking to boys.

-

A few weeks passed, and you accepted the fact that maybe you wouldn't see your neighbor as much as you hoped you would.

And really, you weren’t surprised. You’d never seen him before, why would that change? It made perfect sense that he remained as elusive as he had apparently always been.

Well, that is, until you were dragged to a party you really didn’t wanna go to in clothes you really weren’t all that comfortable wearing at your house— let alone at some douchey frat party.

The first hour was fine because it was early, so only a handful of people were drunk.

The second hour was less enjoyable, the longer the party went on, the more people drank.

In the third hour, your friends shoved a drink in your hand, and once you finished it, they sucked you into taking far too many shots.

The fourth hour was when you started to get antsy. You were pushing over the edge of just being a little too tipsy, and it was hot and sticky and crowded and had it always been so hard to breathe?

You shoved your way out of the crowd and onto the empty (or so you thought) patio, and exhaled. It was less of a patio and more of a balcony, since it was the second floor— but it was huge. 20 people could comfortably stand on it and not be crowded.

Your heels clack on the concrete as you walk to the edge of the patio, leaning on the railing as you take deep breaths.

“That bad in there?”

You nearly jump out of your skin at the familiar british voice. You spin around with wide eyes and a hand over your heart, “Jesus Christ! Don’t do that!”

“Sorry!” he raises his hands in defense. “I thought you saw me!”

“Clearly not!” you pause and take a deep breath, “Sorry— I’m kinda drunk and I hate being drunk. I’m paranoid enough when I’m sober, so when I can’t even walk straight I’m extra jumpy and anxious. And I honestly didn’t even wanna come out tonight, my friends just dragged me along and put me in some ‘going out clothes’ that I don’t think I even have the confidence to wear alone in my dorm! And—“

You pause at his grinning face.

“I’m rambling, aren’t I? Sorry, I get nervous when I’m drunk. Did I already say that? I think I did. Anyway, I talk a lot when i’m nervous, and I don’t really know how to talk to guys in the first place. If I get too annoying just tell me to shut up and I will. I don’t even realize I’m doing it half the— I’m still going. Sorry.”

“No harm done. I quite like your nervous rambling.”

Your cheeks heat up.

“So what made you run for the hills to come out here?” he asks, standing up from the chair he was sitting on.

“I’m not really a party girl.”

“Yeah, I could’ve guessed that.”

You frown, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Not in a bad way!” he rushes out. “But you just.. are a jumpy person, like you said. Like a bunny. I’d be surprised if you went to parties every weekend on your own free will.”

And really— you have to laugh, because he’s right. “Yeah. I’m definitely not a party girl. And I am not the girl who wears this stuff. Not that it’s bad! But.. I’m just not.. comfortable in this,” you shrug, pulling at the short skirt.

The outfit your friends had picked out consisted of a white, very mini mini-skirt, a white cropped tank top, and some black heels. If the skirt was just a little longer, perhaps a little looser, you’d be fine. If you could at least cover up your belly button— you’d always hated it for no real reason except for the fact that, as embarrassing as it sounds, belly buttons freaked you out.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I think you look great,” he smiles.

You probably look like a tomato’s long lost sibling by now.

“Thank you.”

“But.. I also think you look great in pyjamas and bunny slippers and glasses and that little pout telling me my music’s too loud.”

“Hey!” You cross your arms.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he laughs as you try to smack his arm. “So, if you don’t like parties, why’re you here?”

“My friends wanted to go out,” you shrug. “I was done the second we got here.”

He pauses, as if mulling over a thought in his brain and you desperately want to know what, before he speaks, “D’you wanna go home, then?”

You blink at him, “What? I— I mean, yeah. I do, but I’m kinda drunk and all my friends are plastered—“

“I’ll drive you,” he cuts you off before you talk yourself up a wall. “Live next door t’ya anyway.”

“Really? I— are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, “Wouldn’t have offered if I was. Let’s get y’out of here.”

-

The trip to the car took far longer than necessary, mainly because you ran into your friends doing shots and got sucked into one more round, which turned into ten more rounds.

By the time you were done, Harry was half carrying you out. He’d long since looped your arm around his shoulders, and his own arm around your waist as you stumbled towards the car.

“Alright,” he sighed once the two of you finally reached the car. “In you get, love.”

You can’t even stop yourself from grinning ridiculously as he helps you get in the passenger seat and buckle.

He shuts your door and slides into the driver’s seat. You stare at him. He smiles, but doesn’t call you out.

He turns on the radio, and you gasp. “I love this song!”

“Do you, now?” he laughs, and it’s almost teasing. Or, perhaps, it is, and your brain is too fogged up to comprehend that.

“Yes!” you exclaim, turning up the volume as Cruel Summer blasts through his car.

“I’m drunk in the back of the car! And I cried like a baby comin’ home from the bar! Oh, oh!” you sing, extremely off key.

“Quite the singer,” he comments.

“Said I’m fine, but it wasn’t true! I don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you! And I snuck in through the garden gate—“

-

“You’re pretty,” you comment as Harry helps you up the stairs.

“You think so?”

“Yeah. You have nice eyes. And hair. Your hair’s really soft.”

“Don’t think you’ve ever touched my hair, so I’m not sure how you came to that conclusion, babe.”

You grin. Babe. “It looks soft. Duh.”

“Oh, of course. Duh.”

You think he’s teasing you, but you don’t care to tease back or get offended.

“Alright. Where’re your keys?”

“My keys! They’re… with Daisy.”

“No spares?”

“No,” you pout. “Do I have to sleep in the hallway?”

“No, ‘course not,” he shakes his head, pausing. “Ehm.. new plan. Gonna set you up in my bed, yeah? That okay?”

You nod with a hum.

He moves you one door over and fumbles with the key before finally pushing the door open.

“Bed’s right here, love. In you get, c’mon.”

He helps you sit down on the bed, and you rest your head against the wall.

“Hey, hey— don’t sleep yet.”

“Why?” you whine.

“Gotta get you comfy,” he explains, tugging your shoes off. He quickly goes to the dresser before pulling out pants and a shirt.

“You need help changing?”

You frown and nod.

“Alright. I won’t look, love. Promise.”

True to his word, Harry turns you around so your back is to him as he helps you get out of the tank top. He quickly slips the t-shirt over it.

He lays you down on the bed and slaps a hand over his eyes as he pulls your skirt down and helps you into the pants.

“Alright.. better, yeah?”

You nod, lying on the pillow. He helps you under the covers that smell like him and gives you an extra blanket.

“M’kay. Gonna sleep on the top bunk, yeah? Just say my name if y’need me.”

“Thank you,” you mumble.

“‘Course.”

He moves to walk away, but— “Wait, Harry—“

He turns back to you, “What’s wrong?”

You lift a hand up and run it through his hair. “I was right. It’s soft.”

He laughs.

“Go to bed, babe.”

“Sir, yes, Sir.”

He knew you’d probably be embarrassed in the morning, but he wouldn’t tell you that he enjoyed how touchy you got when drunk.

You didn’t plan on telling him that you’d slightly sobered up on the drive home and just played the drunk bit up as an excuse.

And your keys were in your purse.

-

a/n: YAYYYY COLLEGE AU HARRY!!!

[admirationandromantics]

Stress-reliever

Okay, so another request! I really like this one, and I had a lot of fun writing it too. Sorry it took so long, but I try to work at an acceptable pace. Anyways, this story is about reader having an assignment and being hella stressed because she can't understand anything. Josh, her friend, comes over because she doesn't answer any of his texts or calls and gets worried about how hard she's pushing herself. And he knows the best way for her to relax...

Word count: 3k (Unedited)

I let out a silent scream, slamming my fist into the book. Goodness sake, why was this so difficult? I look at my word count, and it’s nowhere near finished. I don’t even have a good point I’m writing about. Everything I’ve written before this has been great, or at least good. This was the exception. I don’t understand the lectures, I don’t understand the book, I don’t understand anything. No shit my essay would be trash. 

My phone start plinging, but I ignore it. I have to get this. Maybe I’ll read the chapter one more time. I’ve lost count on how many times I’ve already read it, but I don’t have anything better going for me. I tried youtube videos, getting someone to explain it to me, reading, writing, everything. This was stressing me out, and the deadline is in one week. I don’t have good sources, or backups. I can’t change the theme. 

The phone rings again, but this time, I put it on silent. I have to get this, I need to understand it. Maybe I need a breather? But I don’t have time. I stand up and walk to the window. I can at least get some fresh air inside, I deserve that. I click the lock, pulling the window open. The fresh winter breeze flows into my room, shuffling my papers and pulling my hair. The outside arena has been filled with water, making a large skating rink. A bunch of people are skating, some with families, some while holding hands. They’re probably all finished with tests, exams and deadlines. I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with the ice cold air. A shiver runs through me, and I take it as a sign to sit down again. This essay isn’t going to write itself. I correct my papers and open the book in the right chapter again. Just keep reading, just keep reading. I’ll get there eventually. 

***

A loud knock is heard on my door, pulling me out of my trance. I’ve written how much? 4 sentences? At this pace, I’ll have to pull all-nighters all week. Someone knocks on the door again, and I check the time. It’s late, not too late, but who would be here at this time? I get up from the desk, walking to the door and unlocking it. Outside in the hall, Josh is standing with his stupidly cute smile and a plastic bag. 

“Josh” I sigh weakly, hugging him while putting all my weight on him. I’m so tired, so stressed and sick of my studies. 

“You look horrible” he whispers back, hands going around me to stop me from falling on the floor. 

“Thank you, I appreciate it” 

“Have you been outside today?” 

I look up at him, giving a guilty smile. He sees right through me and rolls his eyes. I let go, opening the door wider to let him in. 

“Brough you take-out, figured you were too obsessed with whatever you’re doing that you haven’t eaten”

“You’re an angel” 

“I know” he smiles, putting the bag down and pulling off his jacket. He goes to sit in my desk chair, glancing over all my notes. 

“Hard stuff” he grabs a paper, reading quickly over the highlighted lines. I turn to the food, taking out the different boxes. Chinese food, how sweet of him. 

“I’ve never been this stressed in my entire life” I complain, my neck sore and eyes tired. I grab a roll, eating it quickly. I’m apparently very hungry too. 

“You know, I actually wrote about how stress affects-” 

“Stop!” 

“What?”

“I don’t want to hear about how it’ll kill me, you psychology majors are insane with your theories” 

“It’s not a theory”

“Do you really think knowing this will help me or stress me out more”

“Yeah, you’re right” 

I take another roll, sitting down on the bed and eating it. 

“You know, you could do something more stress-relieving…”

He’s smiling, but I don’t know why. I don’t have time to do anything else right now. But, if it worked, I’d probably understand and write much faster. The offer is tempting. 

“Like what?”

“Well, according to your stress-patterns you-”

“Don’t psycho-analyze me” I threaten, pointing a finger at him, my hand now empty again. He puts his hands up, smirking. That stupid smirk. 

“Fine, okay. Let’s think of normal things then… taking a hot bath”

“I showered this morning” 

“It’s not to get clean, it’s to relax” 

“No, next” 

He shrugs, shaking his head in disbelief. I know I’m difficult, but he’s still here, so I haven’t cracked him yet. 

“Go for a walk?”

I laugh at him. No way I’m going somewhere, and when inspiration strikes I’m not there to take advantage of it. It might hit when I’m 20 minutes from home, and when I get back, it’ll be dead. 

“How about I put it this way Josh… I’m NOT leaving my room” 

He thinks hard, trying to come up with something. I subtle darkness coats his eyes as he looks up at me again, and I smile, intrigued by what he’s come up with. 

“I can only think of one more thing” 

“And that is?” 

He opens his mouth, but stops himself and snickers. I’m left in the dark. 

“Nah, you probably wouldn’t want to” 

I look around confused, throwing my hands out. I’m literally open to anything as long as I can relax a bit. 

“Oh, please tell me, I’m desperate” I whine jokingly, making him laugh. 

“Oh really? How desperate?” 

“Incredibly desperate, I’ll do anything” 

“Anything?” he asks, and I can already sense that I’ll regret saying it. He leans forward, loving that he knows about this secret thing which I don’t. God, he’s a prick. 

“Yes, now tell me” I urge, my curiosity overwhelming. 

“Fine, okay” he leans back on the chair, looking me up and down. “I mean, I could help you relax a bit” 

“With what?” 

“Jesus Christ” 

“Will you just tell me Josh?” 

He stands up, making his way over and cornering me with his arms. Oh. Ooooh… I heat up just from the thought, getting wetter by the second as I think about all the erotic possibilities of this encounter. 

That’s what he meant. I almost feel stupid for not getting it at first. But I have to remember that we’re friends, and this is a very intimate act. Would I really want to jeopardise our friendship for an essay? I already feel my body betraying me, heart racing quicker than my thoughts. 

My body gets the better of me, and I lean into him, capturing his lips and throwing my arms around him. He doesn’t waste time, returning the favour and leaning over me, pushing me back on the bed. Hand goes to my thigh, lifting my leg up. He places himself in between them, staying over me with the help of his other hand. A tight squeeze over my knee makes me gasp, and he uses the opportunity to put his tongue in my mouth. He explores all of me, touching in all the right places, occasionally rubbing where he senses I feel weaker. I pour all my tension into him, another form of it building up in my stomach, begging to be satisfied. 

“Josh…” 

He doesn’t stop, mouth instead moving to my neck as he kisses and sucks. 

“Tell me if you want to stop” he whispers against my skin. I don’t want to stop. I’ve wanted this for a long time, and using my stress as an excuse? I don’t know what will happen after this, but I do know that I want to fuck him. For as long as possible. 

He hits my spot under my jaw, making a loud involuntary moan escape my lips. I feel him smirk against my skin before biting down. My hand immediately flies to my mouth. It would not be good for me if the other people in the nearby dorms heard me. 

“I want to hear you” He’s quick to take hold of my hand, trapping it over my head, pressing my whole body down on the mattress. God he’s hot, I’ve never seen this side of him. I always thought he was ‘just talk no action’, but apparently I was wrong. 

“Fuck” I whimper, feeling messy and needy for him. He knew what he was doing, and it was working a little too well. 

“All my calls, all my texts, everything left unanswered…” 

“I was studying” I breathe out, voice high on ecstasy. His knee goes between my legs, and I lean against him, letting myself grind down on his leg. 

“Was it not just a trick to get me here? Don’t think for one second I haven’t seen those glances you give me when you think I’m not watching” 

“Josh…” 

“Don’t worry, when I’m finished with you, you wouldn’t  have to be so secretive anymore” 

He grabs the hem of my sweater, making me sit up a bit to drag it off. I’ve been home alone all day, so a bra was not necessary, leaving me half naked, the cold winter air from the window making my nipples hard. 

“Oh lord…” 

“Not gonna even the playing field?” I tease, tugging at his shirt. He laughs and unbuttons it, undressing quickly and throwing the garment on the floor. He does the same with his belt, dragging it off his jeans and leaving it on the floor. I feel a tug on the bottom of my pants, and he drags them off with ease, leaving me only in my panties. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful” he comments, laying himself on top of me again and capturing my lips on his. I feel around his upper body, gracing each curve and muscle. My hands wander to his back, pulling him closer, making him lay more of his weight on me. The kisses get wetter and sloppier as we keep going, my pulse going faster than ever before. I pull away a little, needing to take a breath. He uses the opportunity to work on my chest, kissing down my collar and groping my chest. His mouth keeps sucking, leaving dark marks all over my upper body. 

“Josh, please” I whimper, feeling the need overcome me. This is too much, I need him down there, fucking me senseless, just as I’ve always wished for. 

“I love hearing my name coming out of those pretty lips of yours” 

He moves lower, kissing the inside of my thighs and stroking my folds over the soaked fabric. 

“You’ve been wanting this for a long time haven’t you?”

I take a couple of deep breaths before answering, my body dysfunctional from all the waiting and different types of simulations. 

“Y-yes I have” 

“And you finally got what you wanted”

“Please” 

He raises his head, looking up at me. That stupid smirk is still plastered on his face as he’s come face to face with the reactions he gets out of me. 

“Say it again” There’s no use fighting him, my body begging to be touched. 

“Please” 

“Again” 

“Josh, please” 

“As you wish” 

His head goes down again, biting and licking my thigh as his fingers slowly drags my underwear off. It falls off my feet, and his tongue takes a long lick over my folds. My immediate reaction is to close my legs, but his hands stop me, holding both of them in their place. He takes a chance, one of his hands moving to my heat, stroking over the wet area. 

“You’re already so ready for me” 

His tongue finds its way to my clit, licking soft circles as one of his fingers moves inside me, curling upwards. My legs jolt again, but he doesn’t mind, instead keeps pumping his finger and getting me off with his tongue. I feel my edge come closer, and I try to hold it, not wanting to come so incredibly fast. 

“I know you’re holding back dear” 

I try to come with a reply, but it leaves my lips as incoherent erotic melodies, going in tact with his rhythm. He takes out his hand, relieving some of the pressure which is begging to be let out. I try to steady my breathing, but am interrupted as he puts another finger in, filling me even more up. His tongue applies more pressure than before, and I can’t control myself as I come all over him, spilling my juices down his fingers and lips. 

I take deep breaths, ecstasy washing over while throwing my head back. Fuck he’s good. I feel my legs twitch from all the action, pent up stress and energy leaving my body as the high lowers. 

I hear something hitting the floor, and look up to find him standing in front of me. Naked. Big. Holy shit, how am I supposed to take that. 

“You look scared” he smiles, going on top of me once again, giving me sweet kisses. I taste myself on him, but the passionate nature of it is almost… romantic. 

“Just, surprised” I manage to breathe out. 

“Oh, you haven’t seen nothing yet” he teases, giving me another passionate kiss. His dick graces over my folds, coating itself in my last high. His hand goes down to adjust himself, but before he inserts himself, he looks down at my flushed face, waiting for something. 

“You want this?” 

“Yes I fucking want this, Josh please” 

He doesn’t need to hear anything else, slowly inserting himself in me. I throw my head back, feeling him fill me up, widening my walls. He groans as he keeps going, letting out a deep breath as he’s all in. He waits a couple of seconds, still holding himself up over me. 

“Fuck, you feel so good” he exclaims, cheeks red and breath heavy. 

“Please keep going” I urge him, and he starts moving. Slowly going out and slamming deep into me again. It takes a couple of pushes for him to get his rhythm back. The room fills with both our moans, and I pull him down, killing some of them on our lips. 

He takes hold of my thigh, pulling my whole leg up, letting himself deeper inside. My nails scratch his back as he keeps going, both of our orgasms building up. I hold on to him, chest against chest, his pelvis rubbing against me as he slams himself in and out. 

“Let me ride you” I whisper, and he stops for a bit, taken aback by my request. 

“You sure?” 

“Get on your back” I breathe out, trying to sound stern. My tone fails me, and I just sound desperate instead, but I don’t mind. I want him, I need him. He obliges, laying down on his back. I move on top of him, and he looks up at me, mouth agape and eyes blank. He’s so turned on, so hard and so desperate. Probably as needy as me. I steady myself, lowering my body onto him, letting him inside. I bit my lip to stop my noises, feeling him go deeper than before. 

I watch his face, cheeks still pink and skin shiny. His mouth keeps opening, letting out the most vulnerable sound I’ve ever heard from him. 

“And I thought you looked good on top” I start, feeling a smirk find its way to my lips. “Turns out you’re even better under me” 

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me come” he whimpers, grabbing hold of my thigh, bouncing me up and down on him. 

“That’s the goal” I lean down, kissing his collar and neck while still bouncing my ass on him. 

“You’re so incredibly hot” 

His grip tightens, probably leaving red marks which’ll last for days. I feel my core building up, getting awfully hot and tight. 

“Josh, I’m going t-”

“Do it, do it” 

I can’t hold myself, coming all over his cock, tightening around him. I give a cry, body sweaty and hot as I try to keep the rhythm going. The pain starts getting to me, the cause of overstimulation and exhaustion. He notices, and uses his hips and arms to turn us around. 

I slam back into the maddress, my breath being knocked out of me. I don’t get time to regain it as Josh ups his pace, slamming into me harder and faster. I grip the sheets, trying to stay grounded as I feel my whole body rocking back and forth. He leans forward, intertwining my hand in his, while still keeping up the pace. I grip his hand hard, tension building up again as he uses the other to rub my clit. 

“I love you like this, all fucked out” he whispers, making me tighter. I wince as I come another time, pain and pleasure shooting through me. I’ve lost feeling in my legs, letting them hang weakly around his waist. He grunts and moans, burying himself in me as he reaches his orgasm. I feel him twitch inside me, sloppily pulling out as he collapses beside me. His hand goes to my chin, turning my head towards him before leaning forward for a kiss. I let him, sinking into the small action. 

“Still stressed?”

“More exhausted, but no, I’m not stressed” I explain, slowly regaining control of my pulse. 

“Need a power-nap?” I nod, and he walks to the bathroom, coming back with a warm wet cloth and cleaning me up. We both drag ourselves to the top of the bed, getting under the covers and relaxing. I lean into him, feeling his body sink down. 

I think about the essay, everything I could’ve done in the time we fucked. The theme is hard, and the texts are difficult, but… Shit!

“Omg” I exclaim, sitting up. 

“What, is something wrong?” he asks, looking up at me with concern. I stand up, walk to the desk and grab my computer before laying down with him on the bed again. 

“I suddenly understood this one passage” I exclaim, not feeling that tired anymore. I actually understood something! Finally! 

I open the computer, and start typing on the related paragraph. This was gonna be good, I could finally get the parallel I wanted, and compare it to the subtext. 

“Well, I’ll be laying right here if you need me again” he makes himself comfortable, kissing my chin and letting his fingers rub soft circles on my arm. 

[revelboo]

Apologize to Metroplex right now ! 😭

Alright, alright 🤣

I Can Feel You Pt 10

Metroplex x Reader

• You’re gone and with you the only reason to cling to the drone. Too exhausted to maintain the connection as he’s dragged to Ratchet, to the medbay. The medic coming around to frown at him, he lets go. Needs to build up the energy to try again even as despair drags at him. If he recharges, he loses time. Days, years, decades. How long does a human live? Long enough that you’ll still be there when he stops dreaming or will you be gone without a trace? Slipping through his servos without him even knowing.

• “Ratchet said it was a drone,” Hound is telling Bee as you pick at your MRE and wish for real food even though you know how impractical it is for them to waste supply shipments on you when they can smuggle up these things that last forever in bulk. “Apparently one of Metroplex’s, but everyone thought they were destroyed at some point during the war. It must have activated somehow and was trying to follow some old prerogative. Creepy, if you ask me.” Your food clatters to the floor as you stand, staring at Hound as both bots look at you in surprise.

• Needs to rest. Needs to build his strength. To find you. To find the other two drones. Where are you? Safe with the Autobots, but he can’t sense you. Harder to focus now. Doesn’t have the energy to hunt for you, you’re so small and he’s so big. But you’d seen him, reached out to him and broke through his lonely isolation. Spoke to him, that soft voice sinking through his exhaustion. Waking him enough to reach out to you in return. Are you okay now without him watching over you? Worried about his silence? He’d just wanted to hold you in his arms, even if through the drone was the only way.

• Heart racing, you remember the way the bot, the drone, had been reaching for you. Almost desperate to get to you. Had that really been Metroplex? “You okay?” Hound asks as you start running for medbay. Is that why he’d not answered you? Because he was doing whatever he’d had to do to activate a drone to fetch you? He hadn’t abandoned you, hadn’t lost interest. Just too stretched thin to answer you? You’re crying you realize, vision blurring. When you’d been cradled in his mind, you’d felt how tired he is, how badly damaged he is despite the Autobot’s attempts to repair him. Hurting. Breath ragged, you enter the medbay, banging an elbow on the door in your hurry as you run deeper inside the building.

• Sneakers squeaking, you slide on the floor, almost missing the drone. Not even on a berth, it’s just leaned against a wall, head tipped forward and visor dim. You don’t really understand what’s different about the drone from the bots, but remember Hound saying it was creepy. “Metroplex?” Touching its hand, you look up at that slack face. “Can you hear me?”

• “Get away from there before that thing comes back online and accidentally crushes you,” Ratchet growls, as he spots you, coming to investigate the noise. “It won’t even notice.” And you don’t know how to explain that it was Metroplex, that he was looking for you. When you’d told them the Titan was speaking to you, they’d thought you were joking or imagining things. They won’t understand this, either. So you just nod and wait until he vents tiredly at you and goes deeper into medbay. And then you climb up on the drone, sitting on his thigh so you can lean into his warmth. Waiting for Metroplex to find you. Willing to wait as long as it takes.

• Time is a difficult concept for him, moving so much slower than the Autobots he shelters. Coming back to awareness, he’s not sure how much time has passed, but hopes it wasn’t too much. That he’s not too late. Stretching out his awareness, reaching to hook a thought in the drone and relieved it’s still in the same place as his awareness spills into it. “Again? Primus, how many times have I told you to get away from there?” Someone’s voice, angry. There’s a warmth against him, a softer voice arguing as he tries to remember how to work the body all over again. Optics opening and seeing Ratchet, the medic’s own optics widening before he lunges. “Move,” he demands and Metroplex’s borrowed head tips down. Sees you there against him, waiting for him. That hand reaching to take you away and he moves faster than he thought he could, catching the medic’s wrist. His other hand shaky as he ghosts a servo against your cheek and you lean into his touch. “Hi, Metroplex.”

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