#adulting is definitely fun and not at all stressful

[lilislegacy]

aww, i’m getting war flashbacks 🥰

this is both my most successful post on tumblr and my least favorite post of all time. simply because of how much pure hatred i got for it. i received sooo many asks and messages insulting me and telling me to get off the app. someone literally sent me an ask and told me to shoot myself. (that was fun!) it was before i was an experienced poster, and therefore didn’t know how much i need to justify some statements

people were mad about two things:

1) that i implied that percy would drink. which i understand, because of gabe. and i can admit that yes, he probably does have an aversion to the smell of beer and might not drink it. but also i think it’s ignorant to think we can predict percy’s behavior—literally one of his defining traits is being unpredictable. and oftentimes, the assumption relies on him associating drinking with bad people, but sally drinks wine on a daily basis and he’s completely good with it, so that idea doesn’t really hold up. anyway, yeah, maybe percy wouldn’t drink. i can totally see that. but also percy deserves to be a normal college kid and not let his past trauma define his potential experiences. if he was with annabeth and his friends, i can totally see him having a drink or two and letting loose. i just want him to be allowed to be a normal irresponsible teenager/young adult for once. sue me 😭

2) i referred to him as a frat boy. and wow did that get taken out of context. which is definitely my fault, for not clarifying. i didn’t mean he’s actually a frat boy, because obviously new rome isn’t gonna have greek life lol. i also wasn’t implying that he’s stupid or superficial or an asshole. i just said that because in heroes of olympus, when percy is around jason, there’s a lot of sizing each other up, joking around, and heavy bromance going on. like i can’t even count how often percy says “bro” and “dude.” which is very frat boy. and i think if percy was in a college setting, not stressed or in near-death situations all the time, and around more people like jason, there’s a good chance he would be a more fun and easy going person than what we often see. when percy is actually comfortable in his environment (which isn’t often) he seems to be more extroverted. but idk maybe he would be shy? who knows. it was just a little thought

so anyway, definitely not my best-phrased post. i would do it differently, now. but its fun remembering how much pure anxiety this post filled me with as angry people rained down hell on me 😂

imagine being someone at new rome university and not knowing percy is the same guy as “percy jackson, son of poseidon, two-time hero of olympus, former praetor” because the thought doesn’t even cross your mind. like… he’s percy. he’s a total frat boy. on a normal night, he walks into a party, refers to everyone as bro or dude, socializes with every living (and not-living) person in the room, makes at least 50 sarcastic comments, plays 12 rounds of beer pong, drinks way too much, and then skates around campus on his skateboard yelling “I LOVE NEW YORK” (which makes no sense, because they’re in california) until someone calls his girlfriend to come get him.

and then one day there’s an attack, and frat boy percy is all of a sudden a fighting machine. he’s yelling battle cries alongside the praetors frank zhang and hazel levesque as they lead everyone into battle. (why is he with the praetors? and why…. why in the world do the praetors seem to be following his lead?) his sword slashes through armies of monsters faster than you’ve ever seen. he’s controlling the entire river surrounding the camp, creating huge waves as tall as skyscrapers that crash down all around him, wiping out monsters and causing mass destruction to his enemies’ ranks. the sky is suddenly dark above you, ice-cold water droplets are slashing through the air, and the wind is blowing so aggressively that it’s making it hard to stand up steadily. because he’s somehow created a hurricane.

and he looks terrifying. you can feel the power radiating off of him. he’s like a god. or maybe a monster. it’s hard to tell. you’re a little scared of him, to be honest. but also in total awe, because it’s extraordinary. he’s extraordinary.

frat boy percy is not who you thought he was.

[dream-beyond-the-dawn]

Dammit Ryuzaki

Death Note Omorashi

Light tapped his foot idly. He was bored. He reluctantly agreed to be handcuffed to Ryuzaki in order to prove his innocence of being Kira. It wasn't his idea and Ryuzaki himself didn't seem thrilled about it either.

But so far all that entailed was him trailing Ryuzaki around all day. He scoffed to think that the entire population of Shinjuku likely assumed L had an interesting fast paced lifestyle. Or even a remotely interesting person.

He glanced at L across from him flipping through papers, sucker in his mouth. He'd been doing that for hours. Sitting in that same position.

Light took a sip of his coffee before realizing he needed to use the bathroom. It wasn't urgent by any means but the chain that connected him to Ryuzaki wasn't long enough to allow him to do anything privately. Not that he was shy...not exactly. But taking a piss with Ryuzaki in the room without him was a hard limit.

"So..."

Ryuzaki looked up from his papers. "Yes?"

"How long do I have to do this exactly?"

"Well..." Ryuzaki paused, putting a finger to his lip life Light often noticed he did. "I can't exactly tell you that."

Light mentally huffed in frustration. "Yeah...I mean I get that. But don't you think it's going to be awkward when one of us has to change clothes or...use the bathroom?"

Ryuzaki turned his attention back to one of the papers he was looking at previously. For a moment it looked like he ignored the question.

"If I was worried about being put into a situation that's uncomfortable then I may as well quit my job. Besides, it's not like I want to do this either." He went back to glancing at a paper he had in front of him.

Light knew that was his way of shutting him down so he could go back to reading through files. Doesn't he ever get tired of that?

So he sat there for another hour, playing a few games on his phone to pass the time while trying not to glance at the clock above them. It was hard for him not to get restless. It wouldn't even be so bad if they weren't just sifting there. Then again he imagined they would get strange looks- being two men handcuffed together.

Light perked up when he hears the sound of papers being attacked up beside him. "I think that's enough of that today. I highlighted all the key information that I need." Ryuzaki said mostly to himself. "would you like some tea?"

Light nodded and followed him to the living room.

Maybe L was trying to call his bluff when he chained them together. Or maybe he could make an exception when one of them had to use the bathroom. Surely. At least Light hoped.

"So...what exactly am I supposed to do when I'm chained to you all day?"

Ryuzaki sat down in front of the coffee table while Watari brought them both some tea. Light took a few sips to be polite but tea was the furthest thing from his mind at this point given the situation.

"You can help me look over some old case files. There's nothing pertaining to the Kira case in there so I'm not worried about that. Plus your deductive reasoning could definitely help a lot."

Light shifted uncomfortably on the couch to try and get comfortable whatever way his bladder would allow. Damn coffee.

Light knew he would regret drinking coffee that morning but L decided to chain them up that night before, which made sleeping difficult. Especially when the man he was chained to was a notorious insomniac.

"Is everything alright? You seem on edge."

Dammit L. Of course he had to notice.

But he couldn't just outright ask for the handcuffs to be removed because in Ryuzaki's eyes that was an admission of guilt more than likely.

"I'm fine. Just a bit restless from all this sitting down. I never imagined being such a high profile detective would be so boring."

"Yes, it can be very boring. That's why it's nice to have company from time to time." Ryuzaki said while balancing three sugar cubes on his Tea spoon, then spooning them into his mouth.

"Do you ever get lonely?"

Ryuzaki shrugged. "I suppose I sometimes can. But I've always been introverted by nature."

Light shifted again on the couch, this time more subtle. He needed something to distract himself with and Ryuzaki was often hard to socialize with.

Even if they were enemies, Light still needed a distraction somehow.

But he also knew he was only delaying the inevitable. Maybe he could wait until Ryuzaki had to go or...

Light glanced at the bathroom right at the end of the hallway longingly.

'Maybe I should have just taken the eye deal.' Light thought as he watches Ryuzaki down the rest of his tea.

"Do you mind?"

Light shook his head and scooted the glass over towards him. It was too sweet for his liking anyway.

"So what's it with the sweets?"

"It started because it helped me concentrate but now I'm just addicted to sugar."

"What about your teeth?"

Ryuzaki just shrugged in the way that he always did and downed the rest of his tea once again. Light knew he wasn't opening up fully because he didn't trust him. That was understandable.

"Is everything alright?" Ryuzaki asked after a few moments of silence.

That's when Light knew he had to say something. If he didn't then it would only make Ryuzaki suspect him more.

Light cleared his throat right as a call came in.

"Yes?"

"The task force is here. They've called for an emergency meeting."

Light could hardly hear when was being said on the other end but he could make out Watari's voice on the other end.

When Ryuzaki got off the phone with him, he turned back to Light, sitting his now empty cup back on the table. "There's a potential lead in the Kira case."

Light nodded as nonchalant as he could manage. He didn't want to seem nervous because that would make him look guilty. But he also couldn't ask to go now because it may cause Ryuzaki to think he's stalling. "I see."

Light found himself uncontrollably bouncing his leg thirty minutes into the meeting. He tried his best to at least pretend he was listening so he didn't look suspicious- but his mind was elsewhere. The only thing he cared about was finally getting to pee after all this time.

He crossed his legs under the table, accidentally nudging Ryuzaki's chair in fhe process. Light felt the blood drain from his face. He looked away until he saw Ryuzaki writing something out of the corner of his eye.

He looked down when he felt something touch his thigh.

Beside him Ryuzaki help out a small note pad with the words "why didn't you say anything earlier" hastily etched onfo the paper.

He looked away so L wouldn't see his face turn red. There was no point in denying it any longer.

"I don't know but I wish I did." He wrote back, subtly flashing the page to Ryuzaki under the table hoping it wouldn't draw any attention to them.

The meeting ticked on for another thirty minutes before they were finally dismissed. Light had no idea what it was even about nor did he care.

He knew he wasn't acting like himself at all but he couldn't afford to care.

"Let's go Light."

Everyone else had already left the room, leaving only Light and Ryuzaki, who were still cuffed together.

"You should have said something sooner. Do you need me to help you get up?"

This was nearly too much for Light. His enemy offering to help him with something...so degrading. Thoughts of taking the eye deal started to sound appealing. He could kill the only person who would ever see him like this.

Without warning, Ryuzaki came up behind him and slowly helped Light to his feet. The weight of gravity hitting his bladder made him grit his teeth but other than that he kept composed.

"Sorry...I don't know what's gotten into me." Light tried to laugh his normal confident laugh but he only proceeded to amplify his need.

"If it makes you feel any better, I have to go too."

It did make Light feel better for some reason. At least he wasn't the only one suffering.

He barely kept his hands down to his sides, wanting nothing more than to grab himself. Dammit L, why did this have to happen?

As they turned the corner towards the police station bathroom, Light noticed yellow caution tape.

Fuck.

He'd forgotten his dad mentioning that the bathrooms were being remodeled.

Could he just use the women's?

Ryuzaki seemed to sense his panic. "There's another bathroom just upstairs...can you wait until-"

Light felt his entire body spasm as he fought desperately to keep the last bit of control he had but he could feel it slipping through his hands. "I..dammit!" He bit down on the inside of his cheek so hard he started to taste blood while he grabbed his crotch, squeezing as hard as he could.

But it was too late and he knew that. Ryuzaki awkwardly turned away when he realized what was happening. His beige pants turned dark brown as his bladder finally had enough.

The feeling was so...almost orgasmic that for a moment, Light didn't care that he was having an accident right in front of his enemy.

I took around 4 minutes for Light to completely finish and by the time he did, he was drained.

He looked done at the wet spot on his pants that went all the way down to his ankles and puddled

around his feet.

He had no idea what to say.

But he did notice that Ryuzaki's posture was more rigid than before.

"I'll have someone clean this.... we'll say it was something that was spilled." Was all Ryuzaki said before they headed towards the elevator.

Light tried his best to act like he wasn't completely mortified but he was. Why couldn't it have been the other way? Why couldn't Ryuzaki been the one to wet himself?

Light glanced at him from behind, feeling the overwhelming urge to keep him from making it to the bathroom on time but he didn't.

Instead he sat there in the shower; thinking. Maybe he would speak to Ryuk later about the eye deal.

Maybe.

See my blog if you're interested in making a request like this one ^_^

[astro-rainbow777]

♈︎ 𝔄𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔢𝔰 ♈︎

✶ Aries in 1st: Being ruled by the planet Mars, these natives give a bold and invigorating first impression. What you see is what you get with Aries in the first- they have a raw and honest personality- which can be off putting for some people because it can be taken as rude depending on the person/situation- but I have to say you must admire them for being so tenacious and authentic in nature. I can hands down say the best quality about Aries in the first is what you see is what you get! They have a strong ego here, are not ashamed of their behaviors, body or personality - regardless of what others say to or about them. ✶ Aries in 2nd: Bold spenders, can be quick to have, give away and lose money. Fleeting self worth and values- can feel and act confident one hour and then shy and shameful the next. Values honesty, integrity and sense of self- this may be because they don’t have the greatest sense of self. Believes that kids and the younger generations have the most value in the world. Having children of their own could be of the greatest importance- OR (and this is a big or) they could never want kids and value connecting to their inner child and independence greatly. It’s one or the other. Can feel at war with their finances and self worth.

✶ Aries in 3rd: Athletic and popular in middle school/high school. Known for their leadership skills and qualities amongst their peers, classmates, cousins and siblings. Can be the youngest of their siblings or babied by others. Intellectually motivated, driven and competitive. Impulsive and passionate in their speech. May say things for shock value or improv their actual knowledge. Finds stimulation in an intellectual debate and arguing. It’s hard to win an argument with these people because they speak so quickly- their arguing style is just backing people into a corner mentally, they don’t give up easily. However, they can regret things that they say when they are angry or upset.

✶ Aries in 4th: Huge indicator of raising yourself as a kid. Family required you to be very active, you could be the most successful in your family as an adult because of this. Family is a point of weakness for you, mainly because they possess a lot of “childish” qualities. You may feel like your parents/guardians were big babies and never grew up. You could put a lot of energy towards your family, but could have a shorter fuse with them over all people. You may be the youngest out of your entire family. Your family could be competitive with you our vise versa. Your family could be the start of your “Villan Arc” 💀- your family may have childish values, argue a lot or they may be a “board game family”. TW - Worst case scenario- violence in the home.

✶ Aries in 5th: Play fights when flirting, aggressive flirters, acts like they hate their crush. I have this placement lmaooo and I LOVE to play fight with my man- like btch?! You wanna go!?!?!? It’s so much fun to me and usually leads to s*xies ayyye. But that’s definitely a me thing, I love to talk smack to my significant other- that’s how it’s always been. Being competitive, NO BORING DATES EVER! Known to have secs on the first date. Passionate- goooood lovers. Either wants to have kids right away or doesn’t want kids at all- this I huge independence thing that keeps them from not wanting to have kids. You can’t be the baby, if you have a baby! Commitment issues.

✶ Aries in 6th: Enjoys active routines and work place. Known to work in establishments with competitive pay and many enemies in work place. Can be scene as bossy by their coworkers. Needs to be weary of being hypocritical of their coworkers. Temper at work. Benefits from a workout routine. Needs to take out stress and anger from work & daily responsibilities. Can be very active or have hyper pets, may need a big back yard to run their dogs or other animals in. Competitive in health and motivated to be the best version’s of themselves. Picky with their diet and what they decide to put in their bodies. Can have an all or nothing attitude- because theirs definitely a reason why they are so picky. Usually this stems from poor self care habits and bad physical health. ✶ Aries in 7th: Passionate and assertive lovers, the fire they feel for their committed partners are unmatched. They may loose interest beyond physical lust- especially if they don’t take they time to figure out whether or not they ACTUALLY like someone. These individuals could truly find good in anyone so it’s important that they don’t project their desire for commitment onto someone else. They can date or be friends with some bold and persistent personalities- even bossy. It’s important that these natives find someone who will give them some wiggle room to find themselves. These people find out who they are through trial and error in their relationships - it’s typical for these natives to have “failed relationships” that lead them to find out what they definitely don’t like- which leads them to their ultimate truth.

✶ Aries in 8th: This gives the native a hyper-vigilant quality to the native with Aries in 8th. In the past the native may have been made to feel like they didn’t belong, maybe they were bullied, or judged for something they couldn’t control. This may lead them to be on edge, secretive and even defensive about who they are authentically. They are very protective about who they actually are because they have been hurt before- many of these people are Virgo Risings, so it’s interesting to see that this may be one of the reasons why they are so hard on themselves and receive a judgmental sort of reputation. ✶ Aries in 9th: I love this placement so much honestly, because a lot of these natives have the philosophy that they can go after anything that they want. They have a particularly strong sense of self and actually may have a hard time understanding why other people don’t go after what they want or believe in themselves and their dreams. This is a super hard working placement IMO - it gives very much that “I want it, I got it!” vibe! It’s very possible at a time in their life that no one believed in these individuals so they just had to prove themselves to the world, and that’s so beautiful.

✶ Aries in 10th: Go getters in their career- they do best when they are their own boss- they definitely don’t do well with being told what to do because of their sensitive nature. However, they have a lot of creativity and art to give to the world. They need a career that is authentic to who they- a simple 9-5 WILL NOT cut it for these people. So if you’re an Aries 10th and you’re still trying to make your boring, loveless day job work- this is why. It is not in your genetic code to be running someone else’s business 😂 you are the business starter- not finisher! Quit diminishing your own light because I know y’all are hard on yourselves regardless. Pick your hard and go after it!

✶ Aries in 11th: Leaders of the pack, these natives love bringing their friends together and being absolutely crazy with their friends. They are naturally socialites and feel their best when they are interacting in their community and collaborating with like minds. These people live for their down time, special niche hobbies and interests. They work hard to play hard. They may also have some pretty strong humanitarian values they stick by, these natives have no problem with telling people their opinion on any given situation and they really don’t care what you have to say about it 😆

✶ Aries in 12th: With Aries in the house of isolation, hidden endings, mental health, dreams and subconscious awareness- this can make a native who suppresses their anger deeply and keeps a lot of their authentic reactions to themselves. They may feel more comfortable expressing this rage internally or when they know nobody else is around. They may be completely out of touch with their anger and impulses. They could have to isolate before taking action towards their authentic desires or dreams. Dreams can be violent and they may have intense nightmares. These natives can work out their best alone- although they usually like to workout with someone, this keeps them from pushing themselves for fear of being ugly or vulnerable. They don’t like to show their struggle to others, complain or their authentic side.

Happy Aries Season Everyone! I hope you are all safe and navigating eclipse season /mercury retrograde with ease. I am making a series out of the signs in the houses. I hope y’all are enjoying my content! Love you and thank you so much for reading my content and giving me feedback. This is such a sacred study to me. It is my life.

~Kya

[bringbackmaes14]

It's fine; you just have to understand that friendships between people in different age groups don't and can't necessarily work the same as friendships between people in the same age group.

I'm not even kidding when I say that when I was a kid/teenager two of my best friends were the grocery bagger at my local supermarket, Mr. David, who was in his mid 50s, and Mr. Theodore, an usher at my church, who was in his mid 70s. I was bullied and ostracized in my own age group, so I didn't have a lot of friends my own age. But I saw these two old guys a couple times a week. Mr. David had met my mom when she was pregnant with me so he'd been around my whole life and watched me grow. And we'd been going to the church where Mr. Theodore was an usher and since I was 3 years old.

And the thing was, it wasn't a friendship where I could invite these old guys over for sleepovers or to play tag or to watch SpongeBob, and they didn't talk about politics or playing golf or retirement plans with me. But when I saw them, I'd get a great big bear hug and a "how ya doin, kiddo?" They'd ask me how school was and I'd ask them how things were at the grocery store or the church. They'd ask me how my siblings were doing, and I'd ask Mr. David about his nieces and Mr. Theodore about his grandkids. I had a secret handshake with both of them (that now that I think about it might've been the same handshake for both of them but they didn't know each other so it was fine). We'd tell each other jokes. We'd make promises to see each other again when my parents eventually dragged me off to the next errand or sunday school class.

And those were good friendships! Not every good friendship has to include tons of quality time and numerous shared interests. I'm sure tons of us have friends now, even in our own age group, where we text them or see them once every six months, catch up for a few hours, and then we don't hear from them from a long time, and that's just how the cycle goes, but you still consider that spotty cycle a friendship!

And I'll also say: I'll never forget how devastated I was when I found out Mr. David had died in an accident. I remember going to the grocery store when I was 13 and asking a manager where he was because I hadn't seen him for a while, and the manager pulled my mom and I aside and said "Sweetie I'm so sorry. I know you and Mr. David were very close, but he died in a car accident three weeks ago." That was the first major death in my life. I'll never forget how furious I was when I told teachers and therapists that my best friend had died in an accident, and when I explained that my best friend had been an "old" man named Mr. David, I was told children couldn't be best friends with old men. I still tell people to this day that Mr. David was my first best friend.

I know now that there are definitely more fulfilling ways to have friendships than the friendships I had with Mr. David and Mr. Theodore (Mr. Theodore is still alive to my knowledge, I just don't live in that state anymore), but I don't regret the friendships I had with them at all, in fact I'm very very grateful for them.

My mom was constantly stressed but very much doing her best to raise me and my 3 siblings, and my dad was around but he was an abusive piece of shit. I'd had a boatload of disrespectful and downright demeaning therapists, and 9 times out of 10 the teachers I had either brushed me off entirely or loved me right up until they didn't. Suffice to say my view of adulthood was pretty shitty.

But these two old guys were there to remind me adults can be kind, to kids and adults and everyone in between! And adults can be silly! And adults can hug people just because they're happy to see them. And adults can have fun. And adults can love- their parents, their children, their spouses, their neighbors, their coworkers, their friends, a stranger walking by who just needs a smile.

Think about all the lessons kids and teens could learn from adult friends.

We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Harry Potter and PTSD

I think no one would argue Harry Potter isn't traumatized, but I actually wanted to go through PTSD symptoms and find evidence of them in book quotes. It's mostly as a fun, little exercise (the word fun is debatable here, it made me quite sad, actually) as I'm not a licensed therapist, and I have no qualifications to diagnose anyone with anything. But I wanted to take a look at some of how Harry's trauma manifests especially in the final 3 books as the signs of PTSD are most obvious and glaring after Voldemort's resurrection and get worse after Sirius' death.

(As the title and first paragraphs suggest, this post isn't a happy one, so beware. I will be discussing symptoms of trauma as shown in the HP books)

I will be using adult PTSD symptoms since:

Older children and teens usually show symptoms more like those seen in adults. They also may develop disruptive, disrespectful, or destructive behaviors. Older children and teens may feel guilt over not preventing injury or death, or have thoughts of revenge.

(Source)

All further quotes regarding PTSD and its symptoms and how they might show were taken from the same website linked above.

To be diagnosed with PTSD, an adult must have all of the following for at least 1 month: * At least one re-experiencing symptom * At least one avoidance symptom * At least two arousal and reactivity symptoms * At least two cognition and mood symptoms

So, let's get straight into it and go into the diagnosis categories:

Re-experiencing symptoms

* Flashbacks—reliving the traumatic event, including physical symptoms, such as a racing heart or sweating * Recurring memories or dreams related to the event * Distressing thoughts * Physical signs of stress Thoughts and feelings can trigger these symptoms, as can words, objects, or situations that are reminders of the event.

Harry definitely suffers from nightmares post-Voldemort's-resurrection, and memories coming back about it:

Had they all forgotten what he had done? Hadn’t it been he who had entered that graveyard and watched Cedric being murdered and been tied to that tombstone and nearly killed ... ? Don’t think about that, Harry told himself sternly for the hundredth time that summer. It was bad enough that he kept revisiting the graveyard in his nightmares, without dwelling on it in his waking moments too.

(OotP)

In the meantime, he had nothing to look forward to but another restless, disturbed night, because even when he escaped nightmares about Cedric he had unsettling dreams about long dark corridors, all finishing in dead ends and locked doors, which he supposed had something to do with the trapped feeling he had when he was awake.

(OotP)

And it continues even months later, he's still dreaming about the graveyard:

He was not going to share his dreams with anyone. He knew perfectly well what his regular nightmare about a graveyard meant, he did not need Ron or Professor Trelawney or the stupid Dream Oracle to tell him that...

(OotP)

Distressing thoughts are par for the course for Harry, but I'll bring up some examples:

And Harry saw very clearly as he sat there under the hot sun how people who cared about him had stood in front of him one by one, his mother, his father, his godfather, and finally Dumbledore, all determined to protect him; but now that was over. He could not let anybody else stand between him and Voldemort; he must abandon forever the illusion he ought to have lost at the age of one, that the shelter of a parent’s arms meant that nothing could hurt him.

(HBP)

He feels responsible for all of their deaths even though they are all adults who chose to be there and protect him. Harry still feels guilt and responsibility over them, even when it isn't his fault, and he shouldn't feel responsible for those who stood between him and Voldemort.

While Harry shows physical signs of stress (such as a racing heart or sweating), They are shown in actual moments of stress where any human would be stressed, so I don't count them here since they are not an immediate result of trauma.

Regardless, I'd say he does have relieving symptoms. Recurring dreams, thoughts, and a sense of guilt are all present.

Avoidance symptoms

* Staying away from places, events, or objects that are reminders of the experience * Avoiding thoughts or feelings related to the traumatic event Avoidance symptoms may cause people to change their routines. For example, some people may avoid driving or riding in a car after a serious car accident.

Harry doesn't actually have the luxury to really avoid anything (poor boy) but he does avoid talking about his dreams of the graveyard, as mentioned in the quote in the Re-experiencing section. He doesn't tell anyone, not even Ron or Hermione about his nightmares. Neither does he want to talk about Cedric. He doesn't even want to think about the graveyard and Cedric as mentioned in one of the above quotes:

Had they all forgotten what he had done? Hadn’t it been he who had entered that graveyard and watched Cedric being murdered and been tied to that tombstone and nearly killed ... ? Don’t think about that, Harry told himself sternly for the hundredth time that summer.

(OotP)

Even though Cho keeps bringing Cedric up to process her own experience, Harry does not want to talk or think about him and what happened at the graveyard.

She shook her head and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “I’m — sorry,” she said thickly. “I suppose ... it’s just ... learning all this stuff... It just makes me ... wonder whether ... if he’d known it all ... he’d still be alive...” Harry’s heart sank right back past its usual spot and settled somewhere around his navel. He ought to have known. She wanted to talk about Cedric.

(OotP)

“I came in here with Cedric last year,” said Cho. In the second or so it took for him to take in what she had said, Harry’s insides had become glacial. He could not believe she wanted to talk about Cedric now, while kissing couples surrounded them and a cherub floated over their heads.

(OotP)

Zacharias said dismissively, “All Dumbledore told us last year was that Cedric Diggory got killed by You- Know-Who and that you brought Diggory’s body back to Hogwarts. He didn’t give us details, he didn’t tell us exactly how Diggory got murdered, I think we’d all like to know — ” “If you’ve come to hear exactly what it looks like when Voldemort murders someone I can’t help you,” Harry said. His temper, always so close to the surface these days, was rising again. He did not take his eyes from Zacharias Smith’s aggressive face, determined not to look at Cho. “I don’t want to talk about Cedric Diggory, all right? So if that’s what you’re here for, you might as well clear out.”

(OotP)

And when he mentions some of it, he's emotionally overwhelmed and stumbling over his words. He didn't really process everything that happened in the graveyard and he doesn't know how to talk about it:

Ron and Hermione were still smirking and Harry felt his temper rise; he wasn’t even sure why he was feeling so angry. “Don’t sit there grinning like you know better than I do, I was there, wasn’t I?” he said heatedly. “I know what went on, all right? And I didn’t get through any of that because I was brilliant at Defense Against the Dark Arts, I got through it all because — because help came at the right time, or because I guessed right — but I just blundered through it all, I didn’t have a clue what I was doing — STOP LAUGHING!” The bowl of murtlap essence fell to the floor and smashed. He became aware that he was on his feet, though he couldn’t remember standing up. Crookshanks streaked away under a sofa; Ron and Hermione’s smiles had vanished. “You don’t know what it’s like You — neither of you — you’ve never had to face him, have you? You think it’s just memorizing a bunch of spells and throwing them at him, like you’re in class or something? The whole time you know there’s nothing between you and dying except your own — your own brain or guts or whatever — like you can think straight when you know you’re about a second from being murdered, or tortured, or watching your friends die — they’ve never taught us that in their classes, what it’s like to deal with things like that — and you two sit there acting like I’m a clever little boy to be standing here, alive, like Diggory was stupid, like he messed up — you just don’t get it, that could just as easily have been me, it would have been if Voldemort hadn’t needed me — ”

(OotP)

He mentions how it isn't easy for him to talk about it when he does his interview for the Quibbler:

Harry had not found it an easy experience to talk about the night when Voldemort had returned. Rita had pressed him for every little detail, and he had given her everything he could remember, knowing that this was his one big opportunity to tell the world the truth. He wondered how people would react to the story. He guessed that it would confirm a lot of people in the view that he was completely insane, not least because his story would be appearing alongside utter rubbish about Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. But the breakout of Bellatrix Lestrange and her fellow Death Eaters had given Harry a burning desire to do something, whether it worked or not...

(OotP)

So, I'd say Harry shows avoidance symptoms in abundance as well.

Arousal and reactivity symptoms

* Being easily startled * Feeling tense, on guard, or on edge * Having difficulty concentrating * Having difficulty falling asleep or staying asleep * Feeling irritable and having angry or aggressive outbursts * Engaging in risky, reckless, or destructive behavior Arousal symptoms are often constant. They can lead to feelings of stress and anger and may interfere with parts of daily life, such as sleeping, eating, or concentrating.

"CONSTANT VIGILENCE!" anyone?

But more seriously, Harry is extra vigilant and alert in the final 3 books especially. As mentioned in the above quote with Smith, Harry is more angry in the final 3 books:

“If you’ve come to hear exactly what it looks like when Voldemort murders someone I can’t help you,” Harry said. His temper, always so close to the surface these days, was rising again.

(OotP)

His temper, which was always present, got worse after the graveyard. In book 4, Harry holds Ron back from hitting Draco when Draco throws his usual insults:

“You know your mother, Malfoy?” said Harry — both he and Hermione had grabbed the back of Ron’s robes to stop him from launching himself at Malfoy

(GoF)

In book 5, Harry punches Draco himself over similar insults because he's angrier and has less of a handle on his emotions and reactions. He is barely aware of what he's doing:

Harry was not aware of releasing George, all he knew was that a second later both of them were sprinting at Malfoy. He had completely forgotten the fact that all the teachers were watching: All he wanted to do was cause Malfoy as much pain as possible. With no time to draw out his wand, he merely drew back the fist clutching the Snitch and sank it as hard as he could into Malfoy’s stomach —

(OotP)

And in general, Harry is much more on guard:

He raised the cup to his lips and then, just as suddenly, lowered it. One of the horrible painted kittens behind Umbridge had great round blue eyes just like Mad-Eye Moody’s magical one, and it had just occurred to Harry what Mad-Eye would say if he ever heard that Harry had drunk anything offered by a known enemy.

(OotP)

He startles easily and is ready for an attack at all moments:

Dudley lay curled up on the ground, whimpering and shaking. Harry bent down to see whether he was in a fit state to stand up, but then heard loud, running footsteps behind him; instinctively raising his wand again, he spun on his heel to face the newcomer.

(OotP - after the dementor attack)

Malfoy wheeled around, drawing his wand. Instinctively, Harry pulled out his own. Malfoy’s hex missed Harry by inches, shattering the lamp on the wall beside him; Harry threw himself sideways, thought Levicorpus, and flicked his wand, but Malfoy blocked the jinx and raised his wand for another — 

(HBP)

“Pathetic, Weasley,” said Snape, after a while. “Here — let me show you — ” He turned his wand on Harry so fast that Harry reacted instinctively; all thought of nonverbal spells forgotten, he yelled, “Protego!” His Shield Charm was so strong Snape was knocked off-balance and hit a desk. The whole class had looked around and now watched as Snape righted himself, scowling.

(HBP)

By HBP and OotP, Harry is always ready for an attack and he defends himself on instinct. It doesn't matter where he is or what he's doing, fight or flight instincts take over and he's acting. It's always there, under the surface, ready to spring.

After Sirius dies, we also see a change in what Harry keeps to himself and what he says out loud. All his sassiest quotes towards Snape come from after Sirius dies. Harry becomes more reckless with his words (and actions in general). The pain makes him care less about his own life and future:

“What are you doing, Potter?” said Snape coldly as ever, as he strode over to the four of them. “I’m trying to decide what curse to use on Malfoy, sir,” said Harry fiercely. Snape stared at him.

(OotP - after Sirius' death)

“Yes, sir.” “There’s no need to call me ‘sir,’ Professor.” The words had escaped him before he knew what he was saying. Several people gasped, including Hermione. Behind Snape, however, Ron, Dean, and Seamus grinned appreciatively.

(HBP - yes, this famous scene is because Harry is depressed)

This is Harry just speaking his mind with complete and utter disregard for the consequences of what comes out of his mouth. This is something we see with him only after Sirius died, as before that, he made an attempt to not anger his professors, even Snape. In the earlier books, Harry is all for de-escalating situations with Snape:

“What on earth were you thinking of?” said Professor McGonagall, with cold fury in her voice. Harry looked at Ron, who was still standing with his wand in the air. “You’re lucky you weren’t killed. Why aren’t you in your dormitory?” Snape gave Harry a swift, piercing look. Harry looked at the floor. He wished Ron would put his wand down.

(PS)

“Let’s see,” he said, in his silkiest voice. “Fifty points from Gryffindor and a detention each for Potter and Weasley. Now get inside, or it’ll be a week’s worth of detentions.” Harry’s ears were ringing. The injustice of it made him want to curse Snape into a thousand slimy pieces. He passed Snape, walked with Ron to the back of the dungeon, and slammed his bag down onto the table. Ron was shaking with anger too — for a moment, it felt as though everything was back to normal between them, but then Ron turned and sat down with Dean and Seamus instead, leaving Harry alone at his table. On the other side of the dungeon, Malfoy turned his back on Snape and pressed his badge, smirking. POTTER STINKS flashed once more across the room.

(GoF)

Harry may be thinking of wanting to say/do something, but he doesn't, because he has some self-preservation. This self-preservation disappears as the books go along. Harry in the early books is much more concerned for his own well-being than in the later books, and I don't think it's due to bravery or childhood trauma, at least, that isn't all there is. I think it's a reaction to some of his more recent trauma as well. A combination of feeling responsible for everything and thinking it's fine he goes through pain and danger because that's what he should do. In HBP and DH, he repeatedly says how willing he is to endanger himself, but not others. It's why he breaks up with Ginny, it's why he initially doesn't want Ron and Hermione to come with him on the Horcrux hunt. He thinks his own life is worth less. That it isn't so bad if he dies.

So he shows 3 arousal and reactivity symptoms at least.

Cognition and mood symptoms

* Trouble remembering key features of the traumatic event * Negative thoughts about oneself or the world * Exaggerated feelings of blame directed toward oneself or others * Ongoing negative emotions, such as fear, anger, guilt, or shame * Loss of interest in previous activities * Feelings of social isolation * Difficulty feeling positive emotions, such as happiness or satisfaction Cognition and mood symptoms can begin or worsen after the traumatic event. They can lead people to feel detached from friends or family members.

I already mentioned Harry's guilt regarding people "who stood between him and Voldemort". And it's true for this section as well. And I mentioned above how Harry considers his own life as worth less than others, which leads him to be incredibly reckless.

Besides the above two points, Harry also shows clear signs of depressive states:

On the fourth night after Hedwig’s departure Harry was lying in one of his apathetic phases, staring at the ceiling, his exhausted mind quite blank, when his uncle entered his bedroom. Harry looked slowly around at him. Uncle Vernon was wearing his best suit and an expression of enormous smugness.

(OotP)

Harry mentions that after the graveyard in the summer between 4th and 5th year, he starts having what he calls "apathetic phases", in which he just feels too tired to even think, just staring blankly at the ceiling. Him calling it "phases" as in, plural, suggests this is a common occurrence at the Dursleys.

Even later in Deathly Hallows, we see this is something Harry still does. After Ron leaves Harry and Hermione are at their most depressed:

She [Hermione] threw herself into a chair, curled up, and started to cry. Harry felt dazed. He stooped, picked up the Horcrux, and placed it around his own neck. He dragged blankets off Ron’s bunk and threw them over Hermione. Then he climbed onto his own bed and stared up at the dark canvas roof, listening to the pounding of the rain.

(DH)

Hermione reacts to her emotions by crying and letting them out, she's processing her emotions in some capacity, as hard as it is. Harry, on the other hand, just gets tired. His mind goes blank and he just stares blankly at the ceiling. Another one of these "apathetic phases". Instead of feeling, he goes numb.

We also see in book 6 how he loses some of his interest in Quidditch. The one pastime that reliably brought him joy, wasn't as important to Harry post Sirius' death. Sure, he was still playing, still interested, but there was none of the joy described previously. He doesn't have the same passion and interest even though he's the captain:

Harry smiled back vaguely, but as he pulled on his scarlet robes his mind was far from Quidditch. 

(HBP)

“Don’t be stupid,” said Ron sharply. “You couldn’t have missed a Quidditch match just to follow Malfoy, you’re the Captain!”

(HBP)

Some of it is to follow Draco who Harry thinks is a Death Eater, sure, but Harry in 4th year would not have acted the same. He wouldn't have let it make him miss a game, he wouldn't have even considered it.

In Deathly Hallows we also see Harry struggling with happiness in many ways. Yes, the situation is bad, but he is so incredibly affected by it, and I do want to mention that:

But they were not living, thought Harry: They were gone. The empty words could not disguise the fact that his parents’ moldering remains lay beneath snow and stone, indifferent, unknowing. And tears came before he could stop them, boiling hot then instantly freezing on his face, and what was the point in wiping them off or pretending? He let them fall, his lips pressed hard together, looking down at the thick snow hiding from his eyes the place where the last of Lily and James lay, bones now, surely, or dust, not knowing or caring that their living son stood so near, his heart still beating, alive because of their sacrifice and close to wishing, at this moment, that he was sleeping under the snow with them.

(DH)

This above quote makes me so sad whenever I read it, and I do want to mention it here. Like, Harry isn't actively suicidal, but he's in a lot of pain that he wants to stop. These negative thoughts are practically a constant in DH even when he isn't wearing the Horcrux.

A hundred dementors were advancing, gliding toward them, sucking their way closer to Harry’s despair, which was like a promise of a feast. ... He saw Ron’s silver terrier burst into the air, flicker feebly, and expire; he saw Hermione’s otter twist in midair and fade; and his own wand trembled in his hand, and he almost welcomed the oncoming oblivion, the promise of nothing, of no feeling. . . .

(DH)

Harry is the character with the most reliable Patronus, but even for him at some point, it's too much and he struggles with it. Struggles to bring up the happiness he needs for a Patronus. The happiness part is what he always struggled with most when it came to this spell, after all:

“No!” said Harry. He got up again. “I’ll have one more go! I’m not thinking of happy enough things, that’s what it is. ... Hang on. ...” He racked his brains. A really, really happy memory . . . one that he could turn into a good, strong Patronus ...

(PoA)

So, I'd say he shows at least 4 cognitive and mood symptoms.

Conclusions

Someone get this boy a hug and therapy, I really don't have much more to say.

I started writing this post to see if I could find evidence of PTSD symptoms in the books, and I searched and found so many that it just made me sad. So, yes, Harry obviously deals with untreated PTSD he has no idea how to regulate in the final 3 books and I think his readiness to walk towards his own demise is influenced by it.

[cursedkeyboard]

PAY ATTENTION ● Older brother Suguru & Younger sibling!Reader

what happens when suguru's cute younger sibling, who'd usually talk his ear off and cling to him, suddenly starts to... do their own thing?

Pairings: Platonic Suguru Geto x Younger sibling!Reader

As we know, Suguru is a rather mature teenager

He carries this air of elegance, always putting on a polite smile and spilling pleasantries past his lips like sweetened lies

But we also know that Suguru can be childish around the right people

So it's not a surprise to anyone close to him that when his younger sibling, you, stops following around like a lost puppy, Suguru immediately starts to sulk

You're only three years younger than Suguru, fourteen to his seventeen

You two always had a close relationship, closer than most siblings tend to have

Suguru loves spending time with you, to him, you're easily the funniest kid he knows

It's hard for him to ever calm down completely since he's constantly stressed with the sorcerer world

But every day when he goes home and you're in the living room or in your room, it's like he can finally breathe

Because before Satoru, you were Suguru's only friend

His little mini-me, partner in crime, best friend

You two clicked and moved like one, so in tune with each other he always marveled at how most siblings tend to hate each other

Of course, the two of you do fight sometimes

Over who gets to take a shower first, who ate the leftovers, who gets to watch what on TV

"Did you use my shampoo?"

"The one you keep hiding from me? Yeah."

"You little– That's expensive."

"That's why I used it, Suguru."

You two are siblings after all, what kind of siblings never fight?

But he never felt the kind of animosity and distrust so many brothers and sisters feel around each other, the kind that made them roll their eyes whenever they even got close to their siblings

To Suguru, you're his little sunshine, someone he'll protect until the day he keels over and dies

Not that he'll ever tell you that

(number one rule of siblingship: Never be too touchy-feely)

So imagine his surprise when the little punk who usually follows his every step, always under his elbow, asking him to hang out or help with homework, stays glued to the phone even when he sits in the same room

Like.... what?

You barely greet him, a half hearted "Hey, you're home." falling from your lips without even looking at him, and he's offended and hurt at the same time

You're fourteen, sure

He knows you'd start pulling away from him now that you have more than a couple of friends, more subjects to study, and... uh..

Puberty

But he thought it'd go away after a bit, that you'd go back to being his cute little sibling once you realized he is so much cooler than the kids your age

He'd walk past your open door multiple times a day after coming home, trying to see if you were going to invite him to hang out

He'd make tea with a mouthwatering fragrance, put on your favorite show, talk to your parents about going to a very trendy and fun place you'd surely want to go with

Damn, at some point he'd probably even talk to Satoru on the phone, loudly, because he knows you're curious about the pretty white haired teen who always teases you whenever he sees you around Suguru's home

But even then, nothing

Nothing at all

Suguru feels like he's watching the baby he helped learn how to walk turn into an adult and leave him behind

And as a big brother, he's upset, a little petty, and worst of all;

Sulky

Of course, Satoru and Shoko definitely notice, because although Suguru is quiet, he's not staying in a corner looking out of the window while listening to sad music and reminiscing quiet

And of course, they both make fun of him when he explains the situation

"And here I thought Gojo was the unreasonable one."

"Hahaha! I– I can't believe! You're sulking because the little brat isn't talking to you?!"

"Shut up, Satoru, and don't call my baby sibling a brat."

"Hah! You're such a loser, Suguru!"

Needless to say, when Suguru comes home and you're still glued to your phone in the living room, he's not in the greatest of moods

You barely look up when he drops his bag on the table

"Welcome back, Susu."

And because no one ever made a law saying Suguru can't act like Satoru sometimes, the teen flops on the couch and hugs a pillow, not answering you

That, you notice

Your brother always talks to you when he comes back home, even when he is all banged up from whatever they do at school

The sight that greets you is... something

Embarrassing, endearing, definitely pathetic for your big brother

Suguru is pouting, looking down at the pillow his strangling to his chest, his knees pulled up to make himself smaller

Not that it works, he's built like a bean pole

His shoulders brush yours, because even though he's mad, he still misses his cute– annoying little sibling

"Suguru?"

...

"Mr. Suguruuuu....?"

...

"Hey, what's wrong?"

He turns his face away, his hair slapping your face, and pushes more of his body against yours

"What the– Dude, you're squashing me! Suguru, what's wrong with you?!"

Suguru still says nothing, silently letting more and more of his weight to lower on top of you until you're smushed against the couch

Once you're a baby sibling pancake, Suguru finally opens his mouth

"So now you're paying attention to me, huh?"

... Huh?

"Huh?"

Suguru huffs, his hair all over your face, body much bigger and heavier than yours not allowing you to move an inch even though you struggle, and squeezes his pillow

"No, it's fine. Go ahead, ignore your big brother all you want. It's not like I helped mom and dad raise you."

"... Are you kiddi–"

"Yeah, keep your eyes glued to your phone, don't need to talk to me or don't hang out with me– actually, don't even look at me at all, since I'm sure you'd much rather look at your phone."

"You're being such a chil–"

"No, no, by all means! It's not like I miss you or anything."

You sighed with some effort, because Suguru is still on top of you and he's not a lightweight, and thump your head against the soft couch

Sure, you know you've been a little distant from your big brother

But, hey, you're fourteen now!

You have your friends and stuff you wanna do without your brother around

And, really, Suguru is a hypocrite

Ever since he started high school he wouldn't stop talking about the white haired cutie

Which you understood, if only visually because Satoru would often call you pint-sized Suguru

But he also spends time with other people!

"You do know I have other friends."

"So I don't matter to you anymore, is that it?"

"No, I'm just not gonna hang out with you all the time!"

"Well, you haven't been hanging out with me at all."

"Urgh!"

"Yeah, urgh."

God, you really wish more people knew about how pouty and clingy your big bro can get

Maybe they'd stop thinking he was this mature and chill guy

You groan against the couch and your brother presses his back down, pushing the air out of your lungs

"You're so annoying!"

"You used to say you wanted to be just like me when you grew up."

This guy...

You sigh, relaxing and surrendering

You're supposed to meet up your friends this weekend to watch a movie, but two of them can't make it so everyone gave up on it

Might as well use the opportunity

"Fine– I'm sorry, okay? Do– Do you wanna watch a movie this weekend? The one that just came out?"

Suguru stops for a second, letting some of his weight off of you and allowing you to breathe properly

He mutters the name of the movie and you confirm it

"Hmm..."

You can hear the smile on his face and you scoff, the exact same smile pulling at your lips too

"If you promise you'll pay more attention to your neglected older brother, then yeah."

Oh, you so want to take it back

But then again, now that he brought it up, you also miss him

If only a little

Like, a smidge

"Fine, I won't ignore you anymore. Happy?"

Suguru took a moment to answer before turning around to press a loud and gross older brother kiss on the back of your head

Now you have to take a shower

"Very happy."

He sounds smug and satisfied, finally a little more relaxed

He really did miss you so much

You're his baby, okay? Growing up too fast will only give him heartaches

And now Suguru can tell Satoru that you don't hate him

Everyone wins

...

"Hey, can you get off now?"

"Hmmm, no, I'm comfortable."

"Well, I'm not! Get off, Suguru!"

"Don't feel like it."

"Suguru!"

[verstappen-cult]

SPENDING CHRISTMAS WITH THE BOYS | F1 GRID

★ — LANDO NORRIS (4)

lando enjoys the holidays for many reasons, and one of the main ones is how happy you always are. you take everything involving christmas very serious and he tries to help you as much as he can, but it’s lando, he can’t help but go up to santa at the mall, asking for what he wants for christmas as if he’s five years old, embarrassing you so much you don’t think you will ever be showing your face again. lando is awful at wrapping presents, but you take your time teaching him between giggles and kisses that taste like hot cocoa. and after a very stressful but fun day of shopping and wrapping presents, you end your day cuddle up in front the fireplace with hot drinks and a christmas movie.

★ — CHARLES LECLERC (16)

charles knows you love christmas, so you don’t even need to ask for him to know that as soon as the season starts, you want to go and see the christmas lights around the neighborhood. so he drives you for hours, heart melting at your happy face and tears in your eyes. you decorate the tree together while christmas songs play in the background, that soon turns into a karaoke fight. charles’ favorite part of decorating the house is definitely when he has to lift you up so you can hang up the ones that you can’t reach by your own. of course you have stairs that could easily help you do it, he just doesn’t tell you.

★ — OSCAR PIASTRI (81)

oscar loves you so, so much because if that weren’t the case, he definitely wouldn’t be wearing the matching sweaters you gifted him a few christmas ago. much less while shopping where everyone can recognize him. but really, oscar doesn’t care if a picture of him wearing an ugly bright-green grinch sweater goes viral as long as you keep smiling at him every time you turn around to show him something. and it all pays off when you arrive home, after a day full of activities, and he feels your arms wrapping around him as you tell him how grateful you are between kisses.

★ — MAX VERSTAPPEN (33/1)

max goes all out to make every christmas special and makes sure to have the days leading up to christmas free so you can go shopping together. what max loves the most is how you slip your hand inside his coat’s pocket so you can still hold hands. and when he sees all the ingredients to make a gingerbread house, of course he has to buy it. so when he comes home with a big smile you don’t hesitate to clean the kitchen and sit down to put it together. and it chaos, neither of you had done it before and it ends up being anything but a gingerbread house, but you love it, you made it together so it has a special place on the countertop where everyone can see it.

★ — ALEX ALBON (23)

every year since you and alex have together he takes you to an ice rink. you both have learn a lot of tricks that, of course, end up with you bumping into people and falling. it’s your favorite night in december where you can just be kids together. the night ends up with you two walking down the christmas fair, sharing candy canes and hot cocoa while arguing about what movie to watch that night. and if you find yourselves under a mistletoe making out, well, nobody needs to know that.

★ — DANIEL RICCIARDO (3)

daniel loves christmas in australia because he can be with you for a full month and scape the cold, too. all his family gets together on christmas eve and every year you are a bundle of nerves. they love you, you know that and daniel makes sure you remember, he also makes you forget all about nerves dragging you to the kitchen where the little ones are setting out all the snacks for santa and his reindeers. you finish with only half the cookies and carrots because daniel can’t help himself. after that all the adults gather in the living room to drink and chat. it’s a little different tradition, but you love it.

★ — MICK SCHUMACHER (47)

mick loves to do a mini photoshoot on christmas day with your matching pajamas because you two look so pretty in them, and needs it for his collection. then, sitting by the fireplace to exchange gifts before going your separate ways to spend christmas with your families. he always has that big and bright smile on his face that you love so much when it’s your turn to open your presents. you say your goodbyes outside in the snow, kissing and getting wet but not caring at all. you promise to see each other the next day to snuggle up in the couch and see your favorite holiday movies together.

© VERSTAPPEN-CULT ⎯ do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.

[letters-to-lgbt-kids]

My dear lgbt+ kids, 

An underrated health and wellbeing tool is play. 

When you think about playing, you may immediately picture little children - but by definition, play describes “any activity engaged in purely for enjoyment and recreation with no definite practical purpose” and those activities stay important throughout your whole life. 

Why are those activities important? 

Play is good for your body. Intentionally doing something just for fun helps to activate the “rest and digest” mode that is necessary to recover and heal from stress. It signals that you’re safe and helps your body relieve tension. 

It’s also good for your brain. It can stimulate your imagination, visualization and critical thinking skills, which can help you build skills like resilience and adaptability. 

Play can also foster empathy and understanding of others as it can help you see things from another’s perspective. 

Playing can make you laugh, and laughter comes with a whole sleeve of health benefits, such as decreasing blood pressure and even improving your immune system! 

Playing together can strengthen relationships. Positive, fun social interactions are important for your emotional wellbeing. 

Now some of you may think “that’s all nice, but how do I even play as an adult?”. While play is a natural behavior of human beings, many adults need to re-learn how to play - it depends on your specific environment and social circles but you may feel a lot of pressure to be productive all the time and play is by its very nature not productive. So, the first step in re-learning play is to give yourself permission to just *be* instead of *do* (and that can be a huge step!). 

Some ideas on how to ease back into play: 

Think about your childhood. (Or if you can, ask a parent, sibling or childhood friend, that can be a great way to bring back memories!) What were your favorite ways to play back then? What did you love about your favorite game? Does any particular memory immediately give you that “I wish I could do that again” feeling? (You may not necessarily find anything that you want to just replicate as an adult as-is, this is just meant to kick-start your imagination!) 

Gameify everyday tasks. Try to spot as many yellow items as possible on your commute to work. Make up a silly song about laundry while putting away the laundry. Pretend to be on a cooking show while making dinner. Do what you always do, just allow yourself to be silly about it! 

Do something creative, even (and especially) if you’re not good at it. You may not think of drawing, writing etc. as playing but those are activities you can do for pure entertainment! 

Moving your body doesn’t need to be purposeful exercise (and certainly not hating yourself in the gym), it can also be playtime: Do a silly little dance to your favorite song! Tippytoe, crawl, jump, walk backward.. from your bedroom to the kitchen, just for the fun of it! 

Rethink toys. While it is fully okay for a grownup to buy, own and play with toys, and we should abolish the negative stereotypes about it (it’s creepy, it’s inherently a sign of poor mental health etc.) these stereotypes do exist and you may simply not feel comfortable. Luckily, there are a few toys that are generally considered socially acceptable for adults or are even marketed towards adults, such as board games, stress balls, adult coloring books, certain Lego sets or fan/collectors toys (like action figures). And when there are no judgy eyes watching, you may also have fun just playing with household items such as cardboard rolls! No need to go out and buy something! 

Keep in mind that play isn’t a competition to win. You can’t play wrong - that’s the beauty of it! Just let your curiosity and enthusiasm guide you. 

With all my love, 

Your Tumblr Dad 

[stoat-party]

Big fan of The Charon Situation being just so incurably screwed up. If ever there were a person equipped to have full control over an adult man’s free will, it’s definitely not the Lone Wanderer. Even the most educated, well-meaning, and genuinely righteous LW couldn’t handle the responsibility. She’s a teenager raised in an insular totalitarian ant farm who’s suddenly been thrust into a world with no authorities, no guidance.

Which creates a wonderful dynamic with Charon. If Ahzrukhal is to be believed, he was raised this way - he never had the chance to be an adult, taking risks, shouldering responsibility, gaining independence. His parents probably weren’t in the picture for long. I imagine his lack of agency causes him to be emotionally immature sometimes - how can you learn to solve problems like an adult if all the adults in your life treat you like a weapon or a dog or a houseplant?

This guy has to be so screwed up in every way. According to the game guide, he just doesn’t sleep?? Or Azzy never let him sleep? He has that idiosyncratic formal speech pattern, he worries a lot, and the only personal detail we know about him is that guns make him happy. He also kind of openly hates the player’s guts sometimes (he’s sarcastic when given certain commands, is joyfully mean about the GECK, and basically sentences you to death in the non-canon base game ending). No matter how hard the LW tries, some damaged part of him will always resent her authority. She could be a thousand times kinder, fairer, and more just than all his previous employers combined, but she’s still one of them. He still doesn’t have free will.

That power is illegitimate for a reason. There’s no way not to misuse it eventually, especially for a teenager with endless stress and trauma of her own. You’re fighting and you tell him to shut up so you can have the last word. You get a significant other and he gets left home with the dog some nights. You take a quest path he doesn’t approve of and he has to grit his teeth and go along with it.

It’s not fair, can never be fair, and that’s the perfect dynamic to explore. Because as much as he hates her, he loves her too. She literally saved him from Hell on earth, gave him the opportunity to be a force for good. He’s not dumb, he knows that the problem is the contract, not her. Over the years they’ll mature together and learn how to fix a lot of these problems. There are so many unique challenges to creating a healthy relationship out of… that.

(A lot of writers have the contract get destroyed, especially for 😉 reasons. There’s nothing in the game indicating that can’t happen, and it works fine for their purposes. I just think it’s more fun for it to be a continuous obstacle.)

[aduh0308]

(previous pinned post) (masterlist)

Hello,

This is BigHit Music,

(Im just kidding I wanted to get your attention).

Hi guys! 

The past few months on here have been great, but recently I’ve remembered why I left in the first place. When I’m on this website, I’m happy asf, getting to talk Kpop shit with all y’all because I don’t get that in real life. But when I’m not talking to someone on here, I find myself scrolling through other author’s fics and comparing myself to no end. This is on me, not on them. And when I’m off of Tumblr, I find myself thinking about it. What to write next, if this song fits, if I’m going to have time to finish something. It’s become really unhealthy. And with school starting back up soon, as well as my boss finding a way for me to work, I don’t think I’ll have time to get on here at all. I’ve been prioritizing my work on here over my in person relationships and needs, and I can’t do that. I can’t stress about getting good grades in school and working overtime to support my family in place of my dad who’s getting NO business in his tourist-based businesses, as well as worry about posting on here. I don’t have enough space in my brain to do that. And, of course, there’s also the added thoughts of worrying about my parents finding THIS account. Every time I log on I remember how traumatic the experience of them finding the other account was. And yes, I know I’m an adult who can do what I want, but I do feel like because I’m living under their roof that I owe it to them to focus my energy on us right now.

So, all in all, I will be going on indefinite hiatus. I’m hoping to be back within a few years, but who knows what will happen. Especially because I want to go to law school and the workload is HEAVY for that. 

I would like to say I’ll be posting things every now and then, but I think in reality it’d be best to stay off entirely. This website is a slippery slope for me— when I came back in the first place all I wanted to do was check in for a second. And then I was coming on every day, and then I was posting a fic for Yeonjun’s birthday, and then I was doing fucking kinktober. When the only thing I wanted to do in the first place was see how my mooties were doing.

So, I will likely not be finishing kinktober. I know, I know, the last three fics were gonna be so bomb, but I can’t. I cannot focus on that right now. The fics that I teased on the poll will also not be posted until my return. The December event I sent some moots in the dms will not be occurring this year. I may drop a fic on soobin’s bday that I meant to post last year, but who knows. I really trust everyone not to take my ideas because I respect y’all so much. 

I'll definitely hop on to celebrate the album release, but please don't expect me to stay!

I really want to thank everyone who’s genuinely made my experience on here so much better :(( don’t wanna name names but anyone who’s interacted with me in the past months can consider themselves thanked.

Hopefully I’ll update my masterlist before I leave for real!!

It’s been fun ❤️

— aduh0308

[chaithetics]

GIRLLLL OMGGGG YOUR MONEKY MAN FIC HELLO?? HELLOOOO???? so good. i just came back from watching it and wtf. now that is how u direct and that is how u make a profound film. (i’m glazing him and this film so hard but idc i just want 1 chance dev PLS JUST GIMME 1 ONE IS ALL I NEED) also r u indian? cuz when i saw the “jaan” i read it it in his voice and my knees literally almost hit the ground like i was like 😧🌚😜😍🤭🤭😋😋🤤🥰 the whole time!!! if i may, can i request another monkey man fic/drabble/whatever u wanna make it but it’s about how they met? basically like a backstory on how they met and got together. thank youuu! 🫶🏽

Blood-Stained Meetings, Nauseous Introductions

Pairing: Kid (Monkey Man) x reader Word count: 2.6K Warnings: 18+ MDNI, mentions of anxiety, injuries/blood, longing, reader has no physical description, a kiss, no smut. Not proof or beta read. A/N: Hey lovely Nonnie, so glad you enjoyed the film! It's so good! Dev Patel is so talented. I hope you and everyone else reading this and in the fandom enjoys this fic! 🫶(Please do and validate me, I'm scared it's TERRIBLE and I'm not happy with this, genuinely terrified lol) Comments, reblogs etc. are always more than appreciated and encouraged! Enjoy 🥰 Gif by @junkfoodcinemas Somewhat inspired by an old chat with the talented @mittos about how reader would probably hate seeing him fight, and tagging @lialilalo because I feel bad about ending up taking a week to get this out since your ask!

Sure, there were probably worse ways to spend a Friday night, but you also knew that there were definitely much better ways to spend a Friday night as well. But you simply weren’t the kind of person who did better things on a Friday night, that wasn’t in your DNA. Obviously. This was your brother's idea of fun after all. 

It didn’t surprise you that this was how your adult brother wanted to spend the start to his weekend and drag you along, or that this was a frequent pastime of his. It didn’t mean that it horrified you any less though. 

You’d sighed and dreaded this for hours, days probably, subconsciously. 

Yet, you still were here. You’d changed out of your work clothes for this, you’d tried to make yourself as presentable as possible when you knew it was an effort you’d see reflected in your brother. You were dreading leaving your home and having to blend into the sea of bloodthirsty betters you were about to find yourself in. 

You walk with your brother and one of his friends into the building, it’s large and crowded. Everyone is packed in like sardines as they yell about what odds they’re betting on, who’s the biggest and strongest, who’s the most nimble-footed and quickest, and who is the immediate runt of the competitors. You can already feel yourself becoming stressed, at this environment. You don’t understand the appeal of this but you understand how it can become a reality with the world that you’re all in. 

The heat stings your face like a slap, as you stand there, close to your brother so you don’t get split up in this sea and he rambles in your ear about who he placed a bet on, how they usually do. All of the information that seems so important in a moment like this to everyone else. But you’ve seen enough blood, you don’t need to be fascinated by people getting bloodied up like this. It’s a privilege that you’ve been able to avoid this your whole life. 

If you were seeing this at home, or if it wasn’t so packed in here tonight, you’d feel a little less self-conscious. And if you felt a little less self-conscious, you’d be chewing on your nails, all the way down to the nail bed. Until you felt the all too familiar sting of going too far. You give your hand a little shake to try and get rid of that urge, now’s not the place or time to wear your nerves on your sleeve. So instead, you try to offer up a small smile to your brother as he leads you to a spot on some benches nearby. 

The bench is relatively close to the ring, but it’s good, you’re already overstimulated and trying to make it up further to higher seats isn’t an idea that agrees with you right now, and it surely promises you a quick exit if needed. You look around, the dim lighting further adds to everything, your eyes scan the faces of those in the crowd and you look out at the ring. It’s big, you think, but you’re not sure if it’s a standard size or not for this sport. 

An announcer enters the ring, he looks sleazy and has a large, sly smirk pasted onto his face, one that makes you uncomfortable. You look at your brother to try and share a knowing glance but he’s focused on what’s in front of you both. You let out a quiet sigh as you tilt your head back to focus on what’s in front of you. 

The announcer opens his mouth and he speaks in a South African accent, that surprises you and you can’t help but look at your brother again. He announces himself as Tiger. This night is already so random, and you have a feeling that it’s only going to get more wild. 

“He’s the owner.” Your brother says as he tilts his head to whisper loudly in your ear. You can hear him over the whooping, clapping, and chants that have started. You nod as you look back at the ring, trying to pay attention to what you’re going to soon witness. Despite how overwhelming it all is. 

Tiger then introduces a fighter who’s dressed to almost look like a reptile, he’s introduced as King Kobra and gets a warm, adoring welcome from the audience with thunderous applause and cheers. You don’t clap as you can’t help but look around instead, taking it all in. It’s a lot and there’s so many people here, here just for this. 

Tiger then starts to introduce King Kobra’s opponent, his voice changes and it’s tinged with an antagonising disgust, he’s clearly trying to rile the audience up into booing, and not rooting for whoever it is. You can’t help but feel your curiosity grow at that. It feels childlike how it’s said, but you see the audience respond just as Tiger wishes. The opponent is Monkey Man, he quickly comes out and makes his way into the ring. He moves quickly and he bounces on his feet for a moment as he gets further into the zone. He stands there, waiting for the noise to confirm it’s the start, the start of a fight where he can maybe get one or two punches in before he has to keel over for his pay. Pay that he’ll probably have to bargain for. 

He stands in the ring and he can’t help but spend a second focusing on the face he sees in the front row. Kid is sure he hasn’t seen that face here before, it’s a pretty face, but he can’t help but notice the anxiety pooled in those eyes or your body language. He tilts his head slightly, it doesn’t seem to be the kind of anxiety some of the gamblers here have before the match, the ones who are risking it all for an expensive thrill and painful rush, to live vicariously through him and the other men adorned in animal masks and names. 

Kid turns his head away from you and tries to focus back on his work. You don’t even notice that the man in the ring has been staring at you, taking you and your nerves in for a few, long but oh so short seconds.. How could you? With that mask? You can’t see his face, but you can see there’s a lanky figure standing there, hiding under the mask and donning the monkey man mantle. He’s tall and slender but you can see there’s some muscle on his arms, from what you can see of the sweat and blood-stained undershirt he wears, his chest is toned as well. 

You don’t know it yet, but you can feel something realign, change in this moment. You’re just not sure what it is, or if this feeling is even real, or if it’s just another symptom of somatic anxiety. Right now, you think it’s probably just that. 

After almost another minute of the crowd booing Monkey Man and chanting out for the King Kobra, the match begins. Each of the men takes a moment to size the other one up, watching the other’s moves before the first hit lands. It’s King Kobra, he strikes Monkey Man. 

King Kobra goes to throw another punch, he moves quickly and he’s very agile, yet Monkey Man somehow dodges this one. His landing with the dodge isn’t perfect, but it gets him out of the way. He throws a punch to King Kobra and the crowd erupts into boos at that. It’s even more louder and clearer than before who they’re all rooting for and aren’t. The crowd’s response seems to motivate King Kobra as he quickly moves and starts to deliver blow after blow. 

You barely feel the noise of the crowd’s screams of joy and cheers as this happens and King Kobra gets his footing back. Your eyes widen as you watch, you see blood starting to fall as Monkey Man loses his way in this match. 

You let out a gasp as he falls to the ground. King Kobra slithers around the ring, posing and feeding off of the crowd’s response before he goes in for the kill shot. He delivers it and you feel yourself slightly jump. It’s terrifying to you, you don’t see the appeal in this, you can only start to mentally list off all of the physical trauma this causes. You sigh as you watch King Kobra be declared the winner of this match, it sounds like a recurring event, you gaze over at your brother who looks ahead with a large smile of awe, obviously happy with whatever return he’s getting on the bets he’d made beforehand

Monkey Man slowly tries to limp his way out of the ring and backstage, you look at your brother and quickly whisper that you need to check on this man. You have to, it’s basically a moral and ethical obligation. Your brother sighs and nods, you quickly move off of the bench and it doesn’t take much for you to catch up to this masked man. “How are you feeling? I’m a nurse.” You say to him and he nods slowly, you can hear his ragged pants from under the mask, the mask is drenched in sweat along with the rest of his body.

As you slowly walk backstage with him to the locker room that’s pungent with the sweat of costumed men masquerading as animals and characters you’d find in The Ramayana. There’s blood stains visible throughout the floors and walls, and you can taste the copper of the crimson in the air, impossibly so. You don’t know how but you can. You ignore these other bodies floating in your periphery as you walk to a sink with the Monkey Man, he leads the way, naturally. 

As you approach the sink together he immediately puts his hands on the edge and spits out a thick string of blood, you’re used to seeing blood but in this context, you can’t help but feel your nose screw up a little. It’s awful.

He tilts his head to look up at you, your eyes meet him and you offer him a small smile and give him your name. He looks at you, taking in the way that your lips curl up and how they do so genuinely. He gives a small nod, one you’d have missed if you’d blinked just a few seconds earlier. He just tells you that his nickname is Kid. Maybe he’s been fighting since he was very young. You don’t ask. Not yet. 

You turn the faucet on at the sink, to try and wash his blood away so that you can start trying to clean the damage of tonight’s fight, off of him. 

“What are you doing here?” He asks, he knows you’re not the type of person to come to these events. You’re not a regular and it’s clear from your face, you’re not a fan of these displays of violence. 

“My brother. It’s his birthday this weekend.” You say quietly as you wipe the blood off. “Have you broken your nose?” He looks up at you with a small smile, it makes sense. Your brother was probably the man beside you, he thinks. Kid can’t quite remember his face. He then shrugs at your question. His nose doesn’t feel too bad right now, but he knows he’s probably broken it at some stage. 

“You’re not sure?” You ask him, he shakes his head. You immediately notice how quiet he is, but despite his silence, his eyes are so reactive and expressive that you feel like you know more than what his words could give you.

“Do you have issues breathing? It doesn’t look bad, there’s just a small scar there. They often heal pretty well on their own.” You say as if to reassure him, even though you know that it probably isn’t something that would bother him. There wouldn’t be much he could do now anyway about that. You don’t like that thought. 

Kid stays there perfectly still as your stomach is now over its nausea and your hand touches his skin so gently as you try to offer him some kindness, some respect, some dignity, some simple compassion and care. His eyes soften as he realises that and looks up at you. There’s a glow from within you, even in the artificial lighting of the locker room and it’s easy for him to block out the chaos in here and focus on your gentleness. 

He’s barely ever touched, except for when a blow hits in a match, it’s never this gently. He doesn’t even know how to show himself that level of care when he bandages himself up at the end of each night that he fights. 

There’s not much of a conversation as you bandage him up but somehow, you don’t really notice it and it’s completely okay with you. There’s a comfort in his quietness, his stillness. It’s one he finds in you as well, perfectly requited. You put a hand on his arm gently as you just finished putting a bandage on him. He takes your hand slowly, and he examines it. You’ve never had someone look at your hair, analysing every hair on your knuckles and by your wrist. It’s a unique way to be seen. He then takes your hand and gently turns it over, taking his time as he does. Kid looks at your palm, at all the lines on it and his eyes follow and travel amongst every single last one. A million lifetimes. A million dreams. He runs his finger along them, just to confirm as he thinks about the roots of your skin, how they run along to the softness and travel over calluses. “That’s your future.” He says softly as he looks at your hand, running his fingers along the lines. He then looks up at you, and his big, beautiful brown eyes meet your orbs. “It’s your past, everything.” You’re not sure what it is that he sees. You’d like to know but you also think you’d be content living without that and just his opinion on everything else in the world. But still, you want to see with his eyes.His fingers stop running over your palm and you feel your cheeks heat up at the intensity of this, his eyes have softened and there’s something else there. Something you don’t quite know. Is it longing? You’re not sure. You feel a deep, soul-aching longing, he does as well and always has. You just haven’t arrived at the stop yet for that to be communicated with words. Now all there is just looks, longing looks from a man with the most beautiful big, brown eyes in the world. You could melt in them, swim in them, drown in them. All of the above and you’d never complain.

You don’t know who makes the first move first, it just feels natural, like gravity. Some kind of natural force that slowly pulls your lips together that you both know is right. His hand gently cups your cheek as you feel his lips. They’re slightly chapped but you don’t mind. The kiss is soft and delicate and you like it. You need it and so does he. Everything feels so natural right now. Perhaps this is something he saw in the palm of your hand. You don’t know what it is yet, but you’re certain that this mask-wearing monkey man is part of that future he just talked about.

[gauloiseblue]

TF141 + König, Graves, Alejandro | Body Worship

[+18 | Adult Content MDNI]

Every healthy couple has done body worship to some degree, whether through compliments or something that's done behind closed doors. So when the two of you have reached that point, this is what they'll do:

Price

He'll absolutely kiss every part of your body, and his favorite spot is on the back of your knee.

In his mind, it's a reserved spot for a lover's kiss—because it could only be done in private, when the two of you lounge around.

While it's true that he prefers doing something else with you in private, he also loves kissing that particular spot, particularly when he feels like a sap, like a sentimental fool.

When you're laying on your back, he'd kiss your belly, before laying his head on your chest. He does it so often, that you'd instinctively run your fingers through his hair.

He loves doing it so much that it becomes a stress relief for him.

(One time, out of curiosity, he decided to compare his pulse before and after doing it, and his heartbeat did slow down during the cuddle)

Once, you joked that he has to find another way to destress or he'll die of a heart attack when you're gone. He didn't laugh.

Fluff aside, I think it's pretty much true that he's a giver when it comes to sex.

He's been in the position of power for so long, it's only natural for him to be in charge of everything.

(That applies to his relationship as well. Although he did tone it down, so he wouldn't end up suffocating his partner)

He'd take care of your body, and he'd make sure that nobody can make you feel like he does.

The thing about Price, is that he takes pride in knowing your body. He knows the blueprint of your pleasure like the back of his hand—he knows which button to push, and which way to make you see white.

He loves eating you out, that it almost becomes a ritual for him. And he wouldn't stop until your grip on his hair has tightened, so much so it's almost like you're trying to rip his hair out.

While he likes the term 'worship', he prefers 'giving you what you deserve'.

Also, I can picture him kissing his partner's sole or heel when he's fucking her—especially when her legs are up on his shoulder.

Gaz

He's the type of person who likes to hug his partner 24/7.

Aka, the baby monkey

He's very clingy, to the point that you can't escape from him with the excuse of 'going to the toilet'.

It's even worse when he just came back from a mission. Like, ten times worse.

He's the type that'd drag you into the shower when he's home, even though you already did it 5 minutes before. All because he misses you so much.

He knows that it annoys you sometimes, he even does it purposely just to poke fun at you, but he'd stop when you're genuinely pissed or needed space.

While he's not the type who'd worship his partner with grandiose acts, he'd shower her with compliments.

He'd tell you how much he loves your curves, or how much he wishes to be the one who hugs your body instead of clothes.

He loves his partner so much that her imperfections seem to blur in his eyes. He can't see any of her flaws, because he's blinded by love.

It might sound cheesy, but he really can't see his partner's flaws. He has no desire to search for it.

He'd be very sad if his partner didn't believe him, and he'd do anything to change her mind.

Maybe that's how the worship started

He'd call you with many nicknames, and all of them contain the word 'pretty' or something with similar meanings.

And he'll definitely abuse it in bed.

"You're so lovely when you cum like that, babe."

"Your lips are tempting me."

For some reason, I see him as someone who'd love mirror sex as a way of worship. Because he can fuck you while praising you at the same time.

(He also uses it as a punishment, especially when you don't believe him)

"Look at you. What a pretty thing you are."

And when he does it, you know he won't stop until you agree with him.

Soap

This man.

You know that post about Napoleon's letter to his wife; 'don't wash, will arrive in three days'? That's literally him.

While it's only figuratively, I do think that he doesn't mind the impropriety of it.

He's been in the army for years, with long working hours, and no time for personal care. So the smell of sweat won't bother him at all.

And he doesn't care about things that we might consider 'gross', such as hairy legs (or anywhere else, really), acne, or greasy hair. For him, it's only natural for humans to have it.

It doesn't mean that he doesn't care about hygiene. He does keep himself clean, but not too obsessed with it—mainly because he doesn't have a problem with it in the first place.

But he wouldn't mind if his partner took care of him, even though he has no idea what that toner does, or what's even moisturizer for.

Skincare aside, I do believe that he doesn't care if you don't shave. He'd still eat you out like a hungry man.

Just like Gaz, he doesn't see any of your imperfections. He just doesn't care.

In bed, he's quite dirty about it. He'd lick your sweat off your neck, and would cover your body with his cum whenever he could.

He also lets you sit on his face, until you drench him with your juice.

When the two of you had sex, he'd exhaust his endurance to its potential. Which means, you'd be covered in sweat and other fluids by the end of session.

Worry not, he'd treat you with aftercare by soaping you up in the bathtub.

Ghost

I feel like Simon would be the textbook example of body worship.

Growing up without proper care left him clueless about love, he wouldn't know how to show his affection if you didn't teach him the right way.

It might’ve felt awkward at the time, but keep in mind that he's trying his best.

It's amusing to watch though, especially when he's just started practicing. Because there'd be a time where you look at him expectantly, and he'd stand there for a full minute—trying to figure out what it means—before leaning in for a kiss.

While he looks like he's the man in charge, he actually finds solace in submission. He'll only take control when he knows that you're okay with it.

He needed a partner who's patient with him, because he'd flinch away at the slightest gesture of affection.

But beyond that point lies a loving partner. Affection won't scare him away anymore, and he won't be afraid to show it in public.

He'll kiss the tips of your fingers, your hands, or your temple tenderly.

In private, he prefers kissing the lines of your back. Trailing his kisses along your spine, and down to your lower curve.

And he'll do it with such tenderness, that it almost feels like a worship.

Did I ever tell you that he's good at massaging?

When you tell him your neck is stiff, he'll tell you to sit down immediately. He'll do such a good job on it, that he'll release all of your muscle knots in 5 minutes.

You know the joke about how men will turn a massage into sex? He's not one of them. He'll genuinely take care of you and tell you to rest.

So don't use it for that purpose, because he'd be so confused when you tease him during the massage.

In general, he wouldn't know what you want unless you say it straight to his face.

It'd change once he's comfortable with you. He'd take initiative more often, and he won't hesitate to touch you. Don't be surprised when he kisses the top of your head whenever he feels like it, even in the presence of other people.

König

This extra large size of a man is actually a scaredy cat.

He's so used to violence that he's afraid that he'd unintentionally bring it into his relationship.

One time, you hissed when he grabbed your wrist, and since then, he's afraid to touch you.

His fear pushes him to be cautious with you, and he'd treat you as if you're a porcelain.

It took about 7 weeks before he treated you like a normal person. And several days more before the two of you could get down to 'business'.

I'd like to mention something about his mask, I don't think he'd hide his face from his partner, even at the time when they've just met. He only uses it in the army, but outside of work, it's definitely off. Maybe he'd wear a mask in public, but that's it.

But since he's used to having a mask on, he sometimes forgets that other people can tell when he's looking. So when his eyes fall on your ass, you'll definitely know it.

Similar to Ghost, I do think that he needs time to learn about how to give and take. The only difference is that he has rough edges, and would definitely tease his partner.

"Don't tell me you can't reach that cupboard, maus?"

He'll definitely take advantage of his height and make fun of yours. Don't be sour about it, though. That's just his way of showing love.

He likes to pick you up, or carry you in his big arms to show the size difference. He did it so easily that he could do it with one arm, and still not break a sweat.

While he doesn't show his affection through kisses, he does it by getting on his knees.

Whenever you sit on the sofa—watching the TV, or just lounging around—he'd join you by sitting on the floor, before placing his head on your lap just like a dog.

On a rare moment, when he's feeling vulnerable, he'd lean his head against your stomach, and wrap his hands around your waist. He'd do it in such a way that people would've mistaken your stillness as something holy—as if you're a personal saint.

Like this image

Sometimes you wanted to question him about it, but you got the feeling that he'd return to his shell when you mention it to him. So you decided to keep it to yourself.

Maybe someday—if you're lucky—you'll find the answer for it.

Graves

In terms of take or give, I think he'd be pretty selfish about it. Especially when it comes to body worship.

He'll demand your affection all the time, and that applies in the bedroom as well.

He won't hesitate to push your head down, until your eyes are on the same level with the bulge on his pants. He'll be cocky about it, manhandling you and dictating you of what to do.

But here's the thing, he's very desperate for it, and you can use it against him.

If you don't mind him taking control, then go ahead. But if you don't want him to, you can literally turn things around by refusing him.

And let me tell you this; he'll do absolutely anything just to get his dick sucked.

You can ask him to kiss your feet, or buy you things, or even worse—you can humiliate him and get away with it. And when he did fulfill your demand, he'd be very submissive to you, even when you're on your knees, taking him in your mouth.

"Just like that, mon cher—" He'd moan, "Oh, yes, yes."

You can absolutely peg him, with the cost of giving him oral. Not a bad trade, right?

Outside the bedroom, he'd be critical of your fashion choices.

He'll dress you up whenever the two of you are going out, and he'll definitely hire people to take care of your hair and make-up.

"You don't like that dress? Too bad sweetheart, I already bought it for you."

(Then again, you can just threaten him with no oral, and watch him going through 5 stages of grief before he agrees with everything you say)

Aside from that, I don't think he'd do it to control you, he just wants you to have the best of everything. Because if he can't provide it to you, then what the hell is he doing?

Alejandro

As a Mexican man, he can't resist moving his body in one way or another.

Meaning, he loves to dance.

It'd be nice if you know how to dance, or at least what his dance means, but if not, he'd definitely teach you.

Think of a bird dancing as a way of courting, and you'll see his way of thinking.

He wouldn't woo you with words (although, he does have a silver tongue), or with kisses (not really, he's a great kisser as well), instead, he'd use his body to communicate his desire.

The easiest 'dance' that you can understand, is when he presses his hips onto your ass, as he sways your body—gently, and side to side—with him.

If you're not familiar with dances, worry not, he'll make sure you understand them by the end of the night.

If he pulls you to dance with him, it means he finds you interesting. If he lets you take the stage, he thinks you're beautiful. If he presses your body together, then he wants you. It's not that hard to decipher, since he's very eager to show it.

(While he prefers dancing with upbeat music, he's down for slow dancing to soft music)

You joked to him that he's always changing whenever he started to dance, and he replied with a smirk, "For better or worse?" He asked, and you couldn't answer.

Because not only he became the biggest tease, he also gave you memorabilia, in the form of copious lovemarks on your neck.

Have I ever told you that this man is obsessed with your neck?

He'd press his nose against the nape of your neck, muttering, "You'll make a slave out of me." Before placing his lips on your skin.

He likes to kiss your shoulder as well. He'd do it anywhere and everywhere, that it's become his second favorite place to kiss after your lips.

Whenever he stands behind you, you'll always catch him pressing his lips on your shoulder, absent-mindedly.

I think he's pretty much the king of body worship. Sadly, I can't describe every little thing he does to you, so I'll just leave the rest to your imagination <3

[mysticdoodles]

hi i saw a post about the fish playing with the human child and even though your addition to that post is 3 years old by now i would love to hear more about ftm sheephead fish :3 (no pressure btw!)

Fish curiosity, in my inbox?? It's more likely than I think, apparently! xD

First off, there's actually multiple fish dubbed 'sheephead'! There's the sheepshead- note the extra S in there- and they look like this:

And yes those are their teeth. Horrifying tbh, but they're very good at what they do- crushing invertebrates and other shelled snacks! They're an Atlantic species that sticks to temperate and warmer waters, and they max out at about half a meter in length.

That's not the fish we're talking about today. The focus of today is the California sheephead wrasse- note the lack of a second S- also known as the 'sheephead' for short. Not confusing at all! We definitely don't bash our heads into walls over the naming conventions and lack of record-keeping of our scientist predecessors.

THIS is the sheephead wrasse, the species of the lovely and now Tumblr-famous Red! :D With a length of up to a FULL meter, they're a whole different size class of fish! They can be found along the west coast USA from the Baja Peninsula all the way up to Monterey, and dwell almost exclusively in kelp forests and nearby environments. I will use one of Red's pics as an example of female coloration-

The lighting isn't great but you can see how her body is streamlined, and besides the white underside of the jaw, has a salmon-pink coloration! Females can be pink or a dull silver-beige. And much like other large marine wrasse, MALES have a drastically different appearance.

This thing is built like a damn tank!! Sheephead are a species of wrasse that shift colors to gain those striking black scales and physically bulk up when becoming males- because guess what? ALL OF THEM ARE BORN FEMALE! By default, all male California Sheephead are FTM trans :) They use that bulky head and extremely tough set of jaws to not only hunt their preferred prey- mollusks, gastropods, and bivalves, etc- but also to bash and chomp down on rival males. This one has won many battles, look at that scarred up muzzle!

The sex change is determined by several factors, as it's not guaranteed all sheephead will eventually become males. Because sheephead school in a harem system- many females to very few males- in order to maximize pressure of stronger offspring, the biggest and healthiest sheephead male will drive out competition from the school. Naturally, a sheephead that lives longer and gains a greater size will have a much higher chance of shifting from a female to a male, if the conditions are right. Stress induced from competition can suppress the hormones that stimulate this transition in females, so they're less likely to gain size and shift from female to male if there's already strong competition taking place. However, in the event there are too few males to mate with the females, or no males present at all, the biggest female will start transitioning to fill the empty slot! It's a long process that can take as few as a couple months, or up to years, depending on resources available.

Conversely, if there are TOO MANY males, they can revert back into females! This process also takes a long time, and is a lot more rare to witness, especially because right now male California sheephead in particular are being spear-fished into becoming an Endangered species :c Sheephead adult males in good condition are considered a trophy animal in spear-fishing and similar marine trophy hunting off the West coast, and because males in particular are being targeted, the gene pool is being reduced when it wrecks the harem structure of schools.

As a fun fact- they're also an incredibly smart fish, and can form relationships with humans, as demonstrated with me and sweetiepie Red cx There's many documented cases of large marine wrasses forming long-term friendships with divers! Here's a humphead wrasse that made friends with a diver she learned would crack snails open for her with a hammer:

I don't work at the facility with Red anymore, but I currently work with two unnamed adult male sheephead, and once again they both like me and seem to despise all my coworkers, even if I never had the opportunity to train them like I did with little Red xD They pick favorites I guess? Now if only I could make friends with the garibaldi...

[bradshawshawaiianshirt]

Stuck on the Past | Part 1

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Ex-girlfriend!Reader

Summary: You never thought you'd see Bradley Bradshaw again, especially the way things ended between the two of you. So what happens when he's suddenly back for a special mission and is determined to win you back too?

Warnings: Angst (ish), adult language, drinking

Length: 1.8k

Stuck on the Past masterlist

You couldn't remember the last time you'd gone out on a Saturday night. Your friends had been begging you to join them for a while, that much you knew, but with how stressful work had been, time seemed to slip out of your hands.

That was until this Saturday. Finally you'd been given the weekend off, and as much as you wanted to spend it in bed binge-watching all the Netflix you'd missed, you ended up deciding that a few drinks wouldn't hurt.

How wrong you were.

Thinking back, it started going south as soon as April mentioned going to the Hard Deck. Sure, you'd been a few times since it opened, and you thought it was a nice place, but you couldn't deny the strange feeling in your gut, almost like a warning. Maybe that should have been a sign that this wasn't going to be your night, but you ignored it, and decided to have fun instead of worrying so much.

"Hey!" April grinned as you walked in, standing from the booth your friends had claimed slightly away from the bar, "I was starting to wonder if you really existed all this time."

She laughed, giving you a quick hug before you sat down with the rest of your friends, "It hasn't been that long." You said, rolling your eyes as April pushed a drink towards you.

"Yes. It has." She smirked, "So drink up. We're making this a night to remember."

You were a couple drinks in, laughing with one of your friends, when the jukebox music cut out. You didn't take much notice until you heard it. The piano. April frowned, "Is someone playing the piano? How cool is that! Let's go look."

You stood and slowly followed her towards the edge of the bar. You knew who was playing. Of course, you knew. It was the same song he used to play years ago, when you were both barely in your 20s. Young, in love, and stupid.

April gripped your hand and dragged you forward to get a better view of the singer. There he was. He had grown, definitely, but he was still the same old Bradley Bradshaw. All smiles and laughs as he played the piano and sang along with his friends. As much as you wanted to, you couldn't look away. You dragged your eyes to your side to look at April, who's face began to fall in realisation.

"No. Way." She turned to you, searching your face for any sign that you might cry, "Please tell me that's not who I think it is."

You nodded, mouth dry from shock as you grabbed her hand and dragged her towards the restroom, locking both of you in a stall. You sighed, ran your hand through your hair and sat on the lid of the toilet seat.

April had both of her hands on her hips, her mouth in a tight frown, "What the hell is he doing here? Isn't it enough that he broke your heart, huh? And now what? Now he's suddenly back in San Diego! Seriously?! What the actual-"

"April." You interrupted, standing up and putting your hands on her shoulders, "It's fine. I'm.. I'm fine." She nodded, taking a deep breath as you sat back onto the lid of the toilet, "And anyway," you shrugged, "He didn't really.. break my heart."

April scoffed, "You have to be joking. You cried over him for like a year! I thought you were about to swear off men forever after him!"

"Probably would have been a good idea." You chuckled, "I meant that.. you know, it was mutual."

April rolled her eyes, "Whatever. What's our game plan?"

"What?"

"Well, for starters, I'm not letting you leave now we've seen him. You need to show him that this didn't affect you. Stand up."

You stood to face your longest friend. She'd been there when you'd met Bradly the very first time, and she'd been the one to pick up the pieces after he'd left. As much as April could be demanding, most of the time she had a point. The only thing you wanted to do right now was run, but you also knew that if he saw you leave it would look like it was because of him, and you didn't want him to have any sort of power over you like that. Not anymore.

You took a deep breath, "Okay, I'm not leaving. Let's go get shots." You were trying to sound confident, but your voice was wobbly and your breathing was uneven. Yeah, tequila was definitely going to help.

-

April ordered some drinks, and you both did a shot of tequila each at the bar. It did calm some of your nerves, but just knowing he was around was setting you off again. You sat back down with the rest of your friends and gazed around the room. Maybe you were in the clear? He'd sang one song and decided to leave?

Just as you felt better, you glanced to the other side of the room, at the pool table, where eyes were already on you. He looked just as shocked as you did, his mouth half open and eyebrows raised, grip tight on his pool stick. You felt yourself freeze. Should you smile? Wave? Shit, the longer you two just stared at each other the more awkward this was getting.

You blinked a couple times before quickly standing, "I'm getting another drink." Your friends were in deep conversation, but you assumed they heard you and hurried towards the bar.

You ordered another round of drinks before you felt someone stand beside you. You looked up and there he was, tall and muscular, very different from the boy you'd known all those years ago.

He grinned, "I thought it was you. I saw you in the crowd while I was playing but then I couldn't find you after." You opened your mouth and closed it again, trying to find words that wouldn't make you sound stupid. Before you could, your drinks were placed in front of you. "You need help carrying those?" He pointed at the four drinks on the bar.

You quickly shook your head, muttered a 'no thanks' and grabbed two in each hand, hurrying off to the booth your friends were sat in. Bradley watched you walk away and mentally kicked himself. He'd practiced what he was going to say to you since he saw you in the crowd earlier in the night. It could have gone better, but then again, what's left to say to someone you both hurt and never quite forgave?

-

You figured you'd stayed long enough that April would let you leave if you wanted to, so you grabbed your handbag, hugged your friends goodbye and made your way to the front of the bar. You felt your phone buzz in your pocket. It was April.

Let me know when you get home safe. You did great tonight. He's not worth it!! See you soon x

You smiled and searched through your phone to find an Uber.

"On your way home?" You turned to see Bradley. Just when you thought you'd made your escape.

"Uh, yeah." You took a moment to really look at him. He had this hopeful look to him, you realised, like he actually wanted to talk to you. You sighed, "Just trying to get an Uber."

"You don't have to." He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes trained on the ground, "Look, I know things are awkward. It's been a long time. But, I can take you home. I've barely drank, I'm good to drive. If you want, that is."

He finally met your eyes as you shrugged. "It's been a really long time. I never thought I'd see you back here." You bit your lip, thinking over the situation, "But, sure. If you're offering, I'd like a ride."

He smiled and nodded, relieved that you hadn't ran away from him. He probably wouldn't have blamed you if you did. But this was something.

The drive to your apartment was quiet. You could feel Bradley glancing at you now and then, but you couldn't risk looking at him. You were already in his car, the same old Bronco he'd had since you'd known him. April was gonna freak when you told her tomorrow.

"How've you been?" He broke the silence as he stopped at a red light, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.

"Good. Busy." You answered, "You?"

"Yeah, good. A lot of deployments but it's been fine." He took a glance in your direction as the light changed, "I wasn't planning on coming back. There's this mission. I'm not supposed to talk about it-"

"It's fine." You cut him off. That made more sense. There was no way he'd come back here for you. That just confirmed it.

He sighed. You wondered if he was regretting offering you a ride home. Probably. "You look good." He said instead.

Your head whipped round to look at him, "Don't start."

He was smirking, "What?" He glanced at you again, feigning innocence, "I know things are awkward but am I not allowed to compliment my favourite ex-girlfriend?"

You cleared your throat and turned towards the window, "Your compliments were never just compliments, Bradley. They always led to something else and you know it."

You felt your cheeks heat up as he glanced at you again, a small smile on his face. "Would that be a bad thing?"

He pulled up in front of your building, turning to face you fully as he turned off the engine. You turned to him, arms crossed and voice sharp, "Yes. It would be a bad thing. History is a there for a reason and I don't wanna repeat it." You opened his door and stepped outside, "Oh! And by the way, you are definitely not my favourite ex-boyfriend!"

Bradley chuckled, "I always used to love it when you'd get angry, your cheeks get all flushed. It's cute."

You mouth hung open, what was he playing at? "Thanks for the ride." You said, shutting his car door and walking towards your apartment building with a huff. Even when you unlocked your apartment door, you couldn't quite believe what had happened. How dare he flirt with you like that? You two hadn't talked in years!

You climbed into bed and decided to sleep it off. At least you wouldn't be forced to see him again. You'd be at work and he'd be on his stupid mission. That was something.

Bradley stayed parked outside after he dropped you off. Partly to make sure you got in okay, but also to really think about what he had actually been suggesting. He hadn't seen you in years. Sure, you crossed his mind every now and then, sometimes he'd stalk your social media to see what you were up to, but he didn't know you anymore. You guys had history, that was true. The worst part about it? He didn't think repeating history would be a bad thing at all, especially if it was with you.

[thewhumpcaretaker]

do you think sébastien lacroix has went into torpor against his will and had to relive some distasteful memories of being in a war as a young adult

Why yes! I do. Be forewarned, I had a long week and got a little overzealous so this is like 90% hurt and only 10% comfort, oops. I was BRUTAL.

Image Source | TW: claustrophobia, starvation, war PTSD, animal death

⚜ FAILED INVASIONS ⚜

The attempt on the Paris crown was the first real mistake LaCroix had made in his unlife. More than a mistake – a whole misadventure.

Things had gone decently up until that point. He had travelled widely, networking all the while. He’d accumulated allies, and leverage, and servants, all of whom were formidable but none of whom he trusted, as was only wise. But this city was too big a leap in power too soon, even for him. He made one too many enemies in addition to all those friends, and his little coup was revealed. In the end, the would-be Prince of Paris was separated from his followers and forced to flee, hunted through the catacombs under the city for two nights and days. The local Nosferatu knew those tunnels better than anyone, of course, and he never really stood a chance.

It was only because of one particular Nosferatu’s bitterness towards him that he happened to survive. The man found him already wounded and nearly bloodless, cowering against a wall. He seemed to enjoy hauling Sebastian around by the frills of his collar (the height of fashion at the time) while he begged desperately. “Non, non, je ne t'épargnerai pas. Mais vous êtes un véritable fléau avec vos intrigues depuis une demi-décennie maintenant. Ce ne serait pas amusant de te livrer à une mort finale rapide et agréable. [No, no, I won’t be sparing you. But you’ve been such a pest with your scheming for half a decade now. It would be no fun just hand you over to a nice quick Final Death.]” And, grinning wickedly with his uneven fangs, the man threw LaCroix into a secret side tunnel, and locked the entrance.

So there he was, trapped. He was in total darkness, but by feeling his way along the walls, he could tell he was in a narrow, claustrophobic, low-ceilinged tunnel, hardly more than a crawlspace between two larger rooms. The doors on either end were heavy slabs that could only be lifted by an apparatus on the other side. A few hours of examining the walls told him with more or less total certainty that there was no way out. Even trying to dig would be futile, as the walls were solid stone. The ceiling was too low to permit standing to his full height, yet there was nowhere comfortable to even lie down for the day, just dusty, cold cobblestones.

Well, no matter – he had no real desire to sleep anyway. His dreams lately had been even worse nightmares than usual, no doubt intensified by the stress of his plans. And now all that stress had been for nothing, too. He sighed, settled gingerly onto the floor with his knees curled against his chest, and waited.

It’s alright, he tried to tell himself. It won’t be long. People are coming for me. Definitely. Some of them are backstabbers, but someone must be loyal.

But as the hours turned to what must be days, he felt a creeping dread take hold. There were no markers of time down here, but it certainly felt too long. Maybe that man had told everyone he was already dead. Maybe he’d shown off some random heap of ashes and said it was LaCroix. Or even told them that he was alive and locked up, and they all thought it was a good joke. Times came when the frustration and humiliation inside him burned so terribly that he just started flinging himself at the door, threatening whoever might be outside that if they’d didn’t let him out soon they’d – they’d…they’d what? He was totally powerless, and eventually sank down again, defeated. Other times came when he just couldn’t take it anymore – the total darkness, the closeness of the walls, the abject misery. He pounded against the doors then too, begging for release, promising anything in return.

But it seemed that this area of the catacombs was not commonly frequented even by the Nosferatu, or else they heard him and didn’t care. There was never even the smallest sound in answer to his.

A bigger problem was already at hand: he was getting hungry. He hadn’t fed in a while even before this whole debacle began. And now the ache in his stomach was turning to an ache in his veins as his body spent up its blood on healing his own starvation. He felt sluggish. Tired. He would have slept but his mind was so frazzled that he didn’t think he could take the awful dreams it would produce. By that point, he’d been awake for many, many days. He just needed a drop of blood for energy, just a drop. He would eat absolutely anything, he thought.

What was most maddening was that he could hear things moving around him in the dark, squealing and skittering, presenting a plentiful source of blood. Rats. They smelled foul. They seemed to come from the door on the north end of the passage, from a small crack in the stone that they were just tiny enough to squeeze through (lucky bastards). They came and went as they pleased, and he was alternately disgusted and tempted by their presence.

He was quick enough to grab one once, and even held it up to his fangs, mouth open. But it smelled so repugnant he was almost sick just from the scent, and in the end, he couldn’t bring himself to bite. He just let it patter its way back through that little crack. With a whine of disappointment, Sebastian slumped over onto his side and let himself cry. Or he almost cried. There was no water left in him, he realized. He was just making pitiful, dry-throated keening noises without tears and he was too miserable to care.

In the last hours of his awareness, he was still lying there, on his side, staring into the blackness. His muscles had already ceased to cooperate, lacking enough blood flow to flex as they should. Something about being this hungry made the cold of his undead bones seem even more unbearable. A memory flickered through his mind, a familiar bone-deep cold... Such an unpleasant memory that he shied away from it physically, managing to jerk his head slightly. Don’t think about that. Not now. Please. Think about warmth. Anything for warmth in his veins… He almost wished his undead body would shiver, and eventually it did – from fear.

Torpor was almost upon him, he could feel it. He’d never experienced it before, nor talked to anyone in detail about what it was like. Would it be dreamless? He hoped so…

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

No dream had ever been as vivid as this. No nightmare. There were no distractions. His body was not at the edge of his consciousness grounding him, waiting to welcome him back again. No, there was only the memory, encompassing him on all sides. It was ancient and familiar and forever. Some part of him always lived in that time…

It was cold, a cold that painted itself across the horizon in icy blue-grey as the sun descended over the retreating Russian campaign. Where the black trees gave out onto white fields, sky and snow merged into one along that horizon. And why shouldn’t they? Why should the Earth and heaven be separated when so many of the sick and starved and freezing hovered on the point of crossing over? Didn’t he too, hover on the point of crossing over? It was cold, and Sebastian was so hungry, and not for the scraps of half-rotten smoked meat on which he had been surviving for so many weeks now. He felt the hideous weakness of his body driving him towards some survival frenzy. No, no, I am not on the point of death. Defiantly he turned his eyes to the sky, half grateful that the tears froze on his lashes before they could fall. I will be a general. A general does not die like this. I will be important. Too important to die.

He struggled with the terrible feeling that rose up in response: a feeling of just wanting to lie down somewhere warm and be held. He didn’t feel at all like a general. He was barely 18. Two years ago, he was a schoolboy at the École Militaire, marveling at history paintings of old battles. His Maman wouldn’t have wanted this for him, even as she wished him glory. She didn’t know. He didn’t know. How could anyone comprehend this without experiencing it?

But here he was, and there was nowhere warm to lie down for a hundred miles, and no one to hold him. Already, he had been promoted when his own commanding officer fell in Smolensk, and again when the next officer above him fell in Moscow. He was alive, and they weren’t. That was what mattered. His determination, it was all because of his own determination. Because of that, he had a horse and they didn’t. There weren’t many horses left in their column. Most had been eaten in desperation for food. But Sebastian had one, because he was high enough ranked, and so he kept his strength instead of marching.

It was then that a shot exploded from the distant trees. Chaos. Everyone scattered, screaming. “Cossacks! Cossacks!” There was hardly any hope of returning fire. They were already so devastated, and the Cossacks knew the terrain perfectly. He had to take cover.

But Sebastian couldn’t move. He was facing the open, white sky. He didn’t know how he got there. But his horse was sideways, on top of him. In a moment, he realized it wasn’t moving either. He’d been thrown a little ways into the snow, far enough that his legs weren’t fully crushed, only an ankle. But he couldn’t feel any pain. Some sort of total shock had dulled everything. He dragged himself out, wondering why he was shaking now, when his shivering had stopped hours ago. Wondering, as he sometimes did during battles, if any of this was real. He couldn’t hear himself speaking as he shouted at the mare to get up, shaking worse by the second.

It’s not enough to earn a place on a horse. It’ll be shot out from under you the moment you allow yourself to enjoy it. It’s not enough to attain power. One must maintain it, too. He came to himself and staggered away from the mare, shouting orders now. Leading. Miraculously, he was not hit today. Not yet. But it was coming. He knew it was coming if he let his guard down for even a moment.

Onward they marched, scattered and vulnerable on the open plain, into the blank of winter without end.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

There was blood in his mouth. Warm, fresh, real, honest blood. Someone was pressing it to his lips, hand-feeding him. Sebastian felt the heat seep gradually through his limbs. Even when his body felt strong enough to move, the relief, the gratitude, and the lingering horror that still lurked at the edges of his mind overwhelmed him, and he lay limp against the rock, with someone’s enormous hand resting gently on his shoulder.

When he was finally able to open his eyes, he would see five drained blood bags scattered around him. He would learn that he’d been in a torpor for over a month, reliving the horrors of the Russian campaign again and again while his rescuer secured a complete map of the catacombs and then searched them systematically, refusing to believe he was dead. That person was an associate he had met during his travels, one of many he employed and the only one who did not defect from him when the coup failed. And he would one day be LaCroix’s new Sheriff.

The man could have killed him. He could have brought LaCroix’s shriveled body to the Prince of Paris, and earned a handsome reward. Instead, he lifted LaCroix in his huge, tree-trunk arms like a precious doll, snuggled him safely into the folds of massive coat, and carried him safely through the catacombs, out of the city, and out of the country to begin the next chapter of his life in London.

There were so few moments in which Sebastian LaCroix ever felt that the world might show him mercy, that anyone at all could keep him safe if he late his guard down. But that rescue was one of them. A part of him would always live in that moment, as eternal as any memory of hunger and cold.

[huggaboos]

Deadpool's Grumpy Cub

( A grumpy little Logan is put down for a nap before dinner by the amazing Deadpool. Short-ish story )

A few weeks had gone by, and Wolverine had continued to visit Deadpool's place to regress whenever he felt stressed or overwhelmed after training at the X-men's mansion. Deadpool had taken on the role of his caregiver, taking great pride in his new responsibility... perhaps too well by Logan's standards.

They were currently hanging out in Wade's apartment, the sound of cartoons playing on the TV as he cooked dinner, pancakes, considering it was one of the few foods Logan would eat.

Wolverine, or rather little Logan, was in the middle of his regression, sitting on the floor with a pile of toys scattered around him. His eyes were wide with innocent awe as he played with a toy car. Deadpool glanced over at him with a fond smile, watching as the little mutant made engine noises with his mouth and occasionally became distracted by the bright, colorful cartoons on screen.

"Having fun there, little buddy?" Wade called out, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Logan looked up at him from his spot on the carpeted floor, a silly grin upon his face. "Vroom, vroom!" he exclaimed, making the toy car move faster against the floor.

Deadpool chuckled, setting down the spatula he was holding to walk over to Logan. "You're such a cute little kid, ya know that?" he teased, ruffling Logan's already tousled hair.

Logan made a small noise of protest, chewing on the wheel of his car. He seemed to relish the affection, his shoulders relaxing slightly under Wade's touch despite his frustrated expression.

"M' not a kid..." he muttered, his lower lip jutted out slightly in a childish pout.

Deadpool knelt down next to him, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "Oh, really? Then what are you, huh? Must be a bear cub with all those little noises you're making." he teased, poking his side gently.

Logan swatted at his hand, but there was no real strength behind it, or claws thank the stars. He knew deep down that Wade was just playing with him, and honestly, he liked being taken care of.

"I'm... I'm an adult," he said stubbornly, crossing his arms in protest despite his behavior and the many toys scattered around him.

Deadpool chuckled again, amused by Logan's stubbornness even in his pouty, and adorable, regressed state. "Right, and I'm the Easter Bunny!" he joked while making a silly face, earning a disgruntled but slightly amused huff from Logan.

Deadpool smirked, seeing through Logan's tough facade instantly. "You're such a little pouty thing when you lose that adult ego of yours," he teased, pinching Wolverine's cheek affectionately as he plops down beside him on the floor.

Logan grumbled under his breath. Wade, being so caring and paternal, was making him feel so... whatever. He hated how Deadpool had the ability to make him feel so small, vulnerable, and definitely not loved and cared for.

"S-Shuddup..." he muttered, looking away to hide the fact that he didn't actually mind Deadpool's teasing.

Wade chuckled, his eyes filled with warmth as he watched Logan's embarrassed reaction. "Awww, no, no, that's not a very nice word, little cub. The big, bad Wolverine must be getting sleepy. I think somebody needs a nap before dinner."

Logan grumbles to himself, turning away, but the tired look in his eyes betrayed his true state. He was feeling sleepy and somewhat hungry, but he didn't want to give the infamous merc with a mouth the pleasure of being right.

"Don' need a nap..." he protested weakly, subconsciously leaning into Deadpool's side.

Wade chuckled, easily seeing through Logan's half-hearted protest. "Oh, yeah? You almost fell asleep in the pile of toys a minute ago," he pointed out, slowly standing up and gently guiding Logan into his arms.

"You need some shut-eye, and I know it. Can't have you falling face-first into your pancakes later, little Wolvie."

Wolverine opened his mouth to protest further, but a yawn escaped his lips instead. He quickly shut his mouth, his face flushing with embarrassment at the involuntary display of tiredness.

He hated to admit it, but his caregiver was right. He was feeling really sleepy, and the thought of taking a nap sounded more tempting by the second...

He grumbled under his breath again, a pout forming on his face. "Fine..." he muttered. "But I'm not a baby."

Wade smirked, fully aware that he had won this battle. "Alright, big guy," he joked, lifting Logan up from the floor and carrying him to the bed in the next room.

"Let's get you tucked in for a nap, yeah? Don't forget your favorite plushie."

With a small pout, Logan allows himself to be carried to the bedroom. Once placed on the bed, he reached out and grabbed a plush cat from the nearby pile of toys.

He held it close as Wade pulled the covers over him, a small feeling of comfort settling over him. Despite his earlier protest, he was secretly grateful for the care and attention he was receiving.

"Big boy, not liddle..." he mumbled once more, his speech already slurring with the onset of sleep.

Deadpool chuckled as he watched Wolverine cuddled up with his plushie, already half-asleep. "Of course, of course," he says softly while his tone remains affectionate.

He sat on the edge of the bed, gently rubbing Logan's back to help him fully relax. "You're just my big, tough guy who needs his nap, right?"

Wolverine hummed softly, his eyes fluttering closed as he snuggled further into the pillow. He wanted to protest once more, but his growing tiredness betrayed him. He muttered a barely audible response under his breath, something that sounded like, "Mm... mhm..."

Within a few minutes, the little mutant was fast asleep, clutching his plushie close to his chest.

Wade watched with a fond smile as Logan settled into peaceful sleep. He stayed by his side for a few moments, making sure his little guy is comfortable.

Once he was certain Logan was sound asleep, Deadpool got up and quietly left the room, shutting the door with a soft click.

Now, it was time to finish preparing dinner before his grumpy little baby boy woke up.