#and this has Probably made me more aware of my surroundings and opportunities to help than like

[crimeronan]

there's this girl on tiktok/youtube shorts who talks about being a 'diagnosed sociopath' (which afaik isn't a thing anymore and she's too young to have been alive when it was a diagnostic thing -- i assume she just means ASPD and is using buzzword language, but it doesn't really matter either way because...... psychiatric classifications are a farce) & she'll discuss what makes her angry, how she gets revenge and/or protects people, how she forms attachments, n how she prioritizes different aspects of her life, and i keep watching some of these shorts like "this.... isn't sociopathy??? everyone with sense does this???" and then i look in the comments and everyone's going "GOD this is such good advice i wish i could do this so easily but i feel sooo bad about it 🥺🥺🥺🥺" and i'm like. huh. girl you either gotta stop being so relatable or i'll have to acknowledge a very obvious thing that i've known about myself for ages,

[knightyoomyoui]

Momo x M Reader - "Crazy Stupid Love"

So this is one of my requests and probably the LONGEST one I had to grant because I just realized today that one of my readers made this request since November 2022, so I just want to say my huge apologies to you Dumbledore_1 for taking me too long to finally make this piece. This one-shot is a sequel to my Set 4 Momo x M Reader work titled "Somebody That I Used To Know" so if yall haven't read that one, better do so because you might not understand a little on what this story is about to tell and to give you guys a background from what happened to Momo and the reader's past, although I tackled the main point of this story clearly though. Lastly, I labeled this as only for male reader to feature because the first one also features only male reader, so it might be a weird for the female ones to read this. However, it's still up for my female readers there if you want to imagine yourself as a guy or for others to take place rather for this to aid your curiosities. Here's my Ko-fi account where you can drop your donations or ask for a commission. You can check it out on my Tumblr profile too!  Buy knightyoomyoui a Coffee. ko-fi.com/knightyoomyoui - Ko-fi ❤️ Where creators get support from fans through donations, memberships, shop sales and more! The original 'Buy Me a Coffee' Page. Enjoy reading and have a happy Christmas season, everyone!

YN was shaken as the barrage of stomps and steps coming from the other passengers effectively woke him up. The bus had stopped moving, and he peeked from the window with squinted eyes. There he saw a very familiar view.

A smile crept up on his face, and he followed through the remaining people exiting the vehicle. Stepping out, he grabbed his bag and luggage before the bus left them there at the stop point.

YN started to walk while wandering his eyes around at the surroundings. It never changed, he thought. This is still one of the places where he could get use some time off away from every troubles he's having from the city.

And that being said, YN came here for one specific purpose. He wanted to stay in his province of Daegu for quite some time to help himself allow to recover from his heartbreak and improve his well-being for the better.

He has been disturbed day and night by what Momo revealed to him since their last talk, which was one month ago. It led him to the point where he needed to be delving deeply into reflection about the painful revelation she had brought to light. The next important person in his life to whom he has been closest, Dahyun, became aware of her cousin YN's odd conduct. She made one quick suggestion that she knew would assist her cousin, who is in a mess, knowing that he had recently ended a difficult and unpleasant relationship with Momo. She is a little upset at what her cousin did to her friend, but she still needs to show compassion and kindness for him because he is a loved one. She had always despised those who were internally disturbed by shattered hearts. She is thus making every effort to support Momo and YN during these challenging times. Aside from the fact that he genuinely misses their province, YN paid attention to what Dahyun advised her to do. He packed his belongings and traveled for hours to go to Daegu. His grandfather and other Dahyun's side relatives welcomed him when he got there. They greeted him with open arms upon his return, which undoubtedly helped YN feel at home. Then, after spending months there, he bought a house for himself, which his family allowed him to live in alone. During the months he had to stay apart from everything, he had the opportunity to experience living alone in the heart of such a vibrant and serene environment. even though at first he found it tough because he knew that being left alone is one of his worst fears.

Even so, he still tried to endure all the pain as he knew that he needed this for the sake of taking a rest for himself after what he'd gone through. There's been a saying that you will never heal from the pain if you never consider to give yourself a break.

Those created the thoughts that were unable for him to dodge all the memories that ties him back to his ex-girlfriend Momo. Because of her, it finally had him to slowly reprocess and understood everything wrong that thay had gone through in their relationship.

He had it discover pieces by pieces and he got some help coming from one of his interactions with some of the locals around his place, as he turned himself to be a volunteer to their town as a way to give himself things to distract him and make his time more valuable and less boring.

He walked back and got one for himself to begin eating with the locals, joining the elders, after serving some food to some of the kids seated at the table.

A notification beeped into his phone, causing it to open. He saw it for a second and turned it off, right before one of the elders asked him something.

"Who is that girl?"

He paused on directing his spoonful of food on his mouth as he heard the elder's question. He looked at him who has this curious look presented on him.

You opened the phone again and showed the rest your wallpaper that got seen, your own picture of Momo on the screen.

"Was that your partner?" His grandpa asked, tempting him to a frown on his lips.

He hesitated to answer for a while as he stared at Momo through the phone. Gulping his throat, he cleared his voice before speaking out his answer.

"She was mine."

All of them became quiet and his grandpa felt the sullen mood of his grandson. "Son, the world hasn't been very kind to both of you, hasn't it?"

He shook his head, denying the assumption. "I'm starting to think that it's not like that. It was only her, and i'm her world who didn't treated her well."

One of ahjumma (female elder) furrowed her eyebrows at his claim. "Did you do something wrong on her?"

"I did, ahjumma." He nodded his head, tightlipped at how guilty he was. "I broke her heart. I didn't mean to but I had to. I haven't got to explain it further."

"Was it that huge of an effect on her?" the first harabeoji (male elder) who asked him about Momo took the turn. He sipped on the soup and kept your head lowered.

"She erased my existence on her life, like she never met me." He smiled bitterly. His heart starts to get heavy, emotions were slowly rising up in his chest. "I guess she brought back the favor because I tried to get rid of her, to push her aside, to make her feel unwanted."

He received a slap on the shoulder by his own grandpa, earning a yelp of pain from him. "And how could you do that?! That's a wonderful girl you just had and you wasted it."

"Believe me, YN you've done a terrible mistake of inflicting heartbreak on that poor woman. Take me and your grandma as example. Even if we had many faults and fights in our relationship until she passed away, I never forgot her and I know so as she wherever she is right now.

And how did we do that? By making up to each other. Acknowledge what wrongful acts you have done. And I'm telling you, son; if you really loved that woman you won't let her be like that to you. Be sorry for everything that you did, understand?"

He nodded at his mixture of scolding and advice. "B-but, I'm afraid I might lure her away."

"She may not forget, but she may forgive you if you convincingly say everything from your heart."

The elders gasped and awwed when they saw a teardrop flowed out from his eye, he was so invested at the rant spoke by his grandpa that he didn't even noticed that his guilt urged his emotions to break loose.

"What's her name, son?"

"Hirai Momo." He noticed the slight amazement in his face. "She's Japanese."

"She's pretty, you got a foreign lover who surely looked up at you all the time not until you showed her the opposite." He expressed his dismay. "But I still feel sorry for you, son. Like what you said earlier, it seems like you got lost on the consequences of the stakes that was put upon you on your relationship with her."

"Do you still love her?"

He kept everything of his grandfather's advice in mind during the days that went by, including the last question that was posed to him and for which he is still unsure of the answer. He decided to give it some time for clarity even if there were some residual sentiments. He asked his cousin Dahyun, who is getting ready for their group schedule, a startling question during one of their video chats, even though Dahyun knew she would have it coming.

"Uhm... Dubu, is she there?"

"Who?"

"Momo."

"Yeah, but she went with Nayeon unnie on the cafeteria, why?"

"H- How is she doing, Dahyun-ah?" He questioned with a sorrowful tone.

Dahyun paused for a moment and just watched her cousin's misery displayed on the screen. She knew that until now he haven't gotten over her, but she didn't expected that he would spoke it out and make it known.

She knew YN to be very secretive of how he actually feels that's why she thought he would just rather do it through action, like what he did to Momo when he was loving her smoothly until the confusions took part.

But Dahyun isn't satisfied yet for that. She know that the two still haven't been getting along fine together and she hoped it'll come someday, and she believes that the only thing needed for that to happen is for her cousin to bravely show up and tell it all by himself to the woman he hurted the most.

"She's doing well, oppa. She's still laughing along with us... well we're trying to make her happy these days."

You nodded, relieved that Momo isn't suffering as much as you do today.

"But I don't know if it just because of us, because uhm... actually oppa- should I say it first to you?"

Dahyun's cautiousness grew an alarming tenseful feeling on him that is making him uncomfortable.

"Go ahead, i'll be fine." He said. Dahyun hoped the same. "Okay. Don't tell me you didn't let me be." Dahyun warned him one more time. "There's a guy who's courting Momo-unnie currently and based from how unnie is receiving his efforts, I think it's winning."

He heard enough and he became silent for a while. He knew it would be painful but he just let it sink in. He's the one who caused all of this to happen. It was all just a pure karma in return for him.

"Is that so?" He reacted bland. "That's great. I-I'm happy for the both of them in case... yeah." He smiled forcefully.

Dahyun clicked her tongue and sighed. "Oppa, you're hurting."

"As I should be."

The next days, his phase was on recollecting their memories together, in which he reminisce whenever he encounters something that Momo used to love before; he used to be in that place to witness it with his very own eyes.

Everywhere he goes, there's always one reason for him to remember her.

The kids he always entertain and taking care of. Momo loved children.

"Someday, if we will be lucky enough to get married. I want us to build a family with two kids! I hope we can have both a son and a daughter..."

The pig feet which was one of their foods for dinner. That is Momo's absolute favorite food she would be willing to die for.

"You should cook more jokbal, YN! This is so delicious!"

Their pictures together on his gallery that is almost full of her beautiful face. He opened one of the videos there which contains one of the clips they recorded during their anniversary.

He smiled as Momo kissed him on the lips and nuzzled her head on her neck. The next thing was soft and low, but her voice was always catchy for him to be able to hear it clearly.

This has to be the most anticipating turned devastating words you will ever remember from what she said.

Not only because this was like an oath for the goal to the next path he wanted to reach with her, but also because this will now end up instead in his  imagination to haunt him with his guilt and definitely hers to occur with her desires.

"To more anniversaries and hopefully, a wedding in the future with you, YN. I love you."

Lastly are the peaches in the farm where he helps some of the farmers there to harvest and the dogs from the neighborhood who randomly visits his house were the ones to sum up everything that ties him back to her.

And in his last days in the Daegu province, he has finally see and understand everything clearly.

Before he rode the bus, he looked back at his grandpa who guided him to the bus stop.

"Remember the question you asked me about, grandpa. If I still do... love her?"

"Have you found the answer?"

"I do." He smiled. "And I promise you that I will try to make her hear my apology to her once I return to Seoul."

"Great for you, then. I wish you good luck, son."

They hugged together before they parted ways, with YN focused on his way back to the destination where his objective lies ahead.

A month after his departure from the province, he is back at Seoul where he is now currently looking for a place to work with these days.

Dahyun notified him one day that they'll be celebrating Jihyo's successful solo debut and she wants to bring him there because the girls misses him.

Hesitant at first that he knew that out of nine of them, Momo is the only one who doesn't want to see her, but he instead accepted for the sake of seeing his friends and to celebrate her special day when Dahyun assured him that Momo isn't like that to him anymore.

YN and Dahyun arrived at the restaurant together. The girls saw them from the table and they all cheered, except for Momo who is sitting there in silent and avoiding his sight. He noticed it and felt a bit unease as he entertains the rest.

And there, the two ex-couple finally saw each other again after quite a long time. Awkward at first, they still managed to greet each other when YN tried to test his courage for his plan tonight. Thankfully, Momo greeted him back shyly.

They ordered, congratulated Jihyo again for her success, talked a lot about how they've been doing, and ate their respective delicious foods to savor the precious time they're having together as a group.

As they went to enjoy the night by doing some videoke and chugging beers, YN noticed that Momo went outside to freshen up.

"Dahyun." He called the woman sitting beside her, munching some pizza. "It's time. I'll be right back." He said as they gazed at Momo's back facing them through her stance at the railings of the balcony.

"Be careful, okay? Make it sentimental and don't force if she can't have it all too well."

"Got it."

Dahyun patted him on the back before he stood up and carefully opened the sliding doors. He silently stepped towards Momo's figure, breathing becoming heavy, heartbeat rising rapidly.

He let out one last sigh before he began to confront the woman he wanted to meet and talk after months of waiting, recovering, and changing.

"Momo?"

She heard that familiar voice, she remembered what she told him almost a year ago, prompting her to try not to slip off on her character.

"Now you're just somebody that I used to know, YN."

Turning her body around, she finally has come to face to face with the man she tries to completely forget in her heart and mind.

"Yes?" She responded. It was cold and plain, and YN understand what he's putting himself into. He just had to let it go and proceed with his main intention for her.

"I know you don't want having me near you, but c-can I please just... please have a short moment with you?" He said. "It won't last long, I promise but if you don't want me... then, it's fine but I really wanted to say something very quick to you."

Momo was startled when YN called for him. From the way he acted, Momo is quite intrigued that this version of YN infront of her is now more cautious, kind and soft to her. This is almost like... a different person from the one he used to know-and endure- before.

Momo would be deceiving herself and she knows how awful it is to feel regretful to herself if she lets that, if she doesn't admit to herself that it actually made her convince and push her wants to atleast see or know something of himself in personal.

"Don't waste any more time. Go on." She granted him his request. Crossing her arms, she leaned on the railings and watched this poor, broken, and lonely man she used to hate seeing being like this.

"T-Thank you." He bowed a little and straightened his posture, breathing deeply before he proceed to let out everything he's been keeping to his chest. "I know I shouldn't be in here because I know you're still mad at me. I almost didn't attend but for the girls-"

"For the record, I'm not mad at you anymore." Momo seriously said. "I set it all aside, because like I said... I don't want nothing to do with you. You're a nobody to me now, but I'm just letting you for once as long as you prove what brought youself here with me and dare to come close with me after how we ended things together."

"I know about that, and that's why I'm just here to say one thing that I've never ever said to you.

I'm sorry."

Momo's eyes shut, biting her lip with her fist clenching after hearing that. "I'm sorry for everything. All I did was very wrong of me and I don't want you to force you to believe me but... I didn't intended to do that on you.

"I did love you from the first time I laid my eyes on you, to the time you gave back the same feelings as mine for you, and the beginning of our relationship together. I know I have been gotten cold to you as time passes but I want to clarify things that... it wasn't your fault at all, Momo. It was me."

Momo glared at him with a teary eyes. She hated it, but she had to recall all of the times she had to wonder every night why does this keep on happening and what did she do wrong that made him treat him with lack of affection. She wanted answers for a long time and gladly, the time has come for her to hear it straight away from the man responsible of putting her like that.

"I always wanted to be like you, on what you're doing for me and it's true. But I always look at myself lowly, thinking if what I'm doing rather wasn't enough for you." His voice began to crack, as his eyes became to get watery also from the immense emotions affecting him. "And instead of improving or sharing my worries to you, I chose rather to set you free from me. I did that, thinking it was for mercy but instead it looked like I wanted you to suffer more and it was so... so wrong for me to do so. I became so lost for that."

"I still love you up to this day, Momo."  With that, both synchronizably cried from that words that they used to say to each other as a vow but now, it turns out to be a forbidden phrase for them to exchange anymore.  "It's not that I didn't trust you it's just that... I was scared."

"My plead for you not to leave was true, I truly can't bear letting you go. But now, I think I believe that probably I deserve to be alone and unworthy of somebody's love to hold onto because what I did, I am willing to sacrifice my feelings for you, Momo."

"It hurts me so bad but I have to let you go now." He escaped a rough exhale before continuing. "I'm not going to plead for you to come back and ruin the happiness your getting with somebody else now. Again, I'm truly sorry again for rushing in our relationship, acting immature on times you needed my comfort and making you bring all the burden you never deserved to have to."

YN began to drop on his knees and positioned himself to kneel in front of Momo who was shocked at his action.

"YN! W-what are you doing, get up from there!" She dashed through him and lifted his body and in YN's disbelief, he made Momo envelope him into a longing and comforting embrace that belongs to one of the lovely things he wasted from an gracious woman like her.

They both sobbed in their own heartache and sympathized with their own struggles.

"I hate you for what you did to me YN but why!" Momo cried out. "Why did you kept it to yourself, huh?! Why did you let yourself struggling on your own?"

"You promised me that you'll try to be honest, but you didn't, and that made me think that being done with your fake love, I rather be going. You could've shared it all to me directly, I'm your girlfriend for god's sake, I could've helped you because I loved you!"

"I'm sorry.. I'm s-so sorry..."

Momo whined and screamed in a mixture of frustration, agony and disappointment for what their relationship had become and the complete clear revelations of how she got ended up suffocating and unpleased in his company.

"Get up." She helped him stand back to his wobbling weak legs again. "Finally you were now able to reflect yourself and tell to me that one words I just wanted to hear from you. I just wanted you to be accountable and say sorry to me.", Momo said, clarifying the last words she told to him back then.

"But now that you did and I've heard and seen enough your sincerity..." She grasped him in the shoulders and stared at him with a broken smile. "I forgive you, YN."

He nodded and cried again, finally getting the remorse and acceptance that he's been yearning and searching for months after realizing what he's done. "Thank you. I'm sorry again, Momo."

"That'll be your last, it's fine now." Momo warned him as he fixed his messy hair and wiped away his tears.

"I just have one more question to ask."

"What is it?"

"Have I... been a nice girlfriend to you?"

He stared at Momo's awaiting, curious and softened face. A teardrop flowed for one final time, to drain out every bit of pain he consumed.

He grabbed the back of her neck and gently pulled her close to land a tender kiss on her forehead. "You did more than enough for me, Momo. You're a great woman that I wasted the unconditional love you've been giving by being ungrateful and selfish, and I will forever bring that regret with me."

Momo timidly smiled for him and stepped away from his contact. Wanting to end this emotional moment between each other to avoid ruining the fun night, she came up something to talk with. "I know you have quite shared this with the girls earlier but I just wanted to know myself, how have you been doing these days?"

"I'm good, I'm still on my road to improve myself. I couldn't stand to let others see and continue to be the same guy that you used to encounter." He finally flashed the first bright smile for Momo away from their problems. Momo was proud and touched for his efforts and dedication that she implemented on him. "And you?"

"I'm happy. Even happier now that we've settled things peacefully."

"I've heard from Dahyun that there's this guy who's been seeing you these days, huh. How is he doing for you?"

Momo was taken back that he had to learn about that and mention it. "H-He's fine, but I want to make it clear to him that I don't want to be in a relationship yet." she shyly said.

"How about you? Will you be okay? Are you... gonna look for somebody to have an interest with?" Momo wondered.

"No, I don't think I will." He stated. "I'm not scared, I just want to be careful. I think it's better for me not to engage in this romance thing anymore, you know? I have learnt from my mistakes now." She understood and didn't spoke any further despite still having this pint of pity for the fallen man.

"And... why should I look for other, when you're still the one I choose?"

Momo stared at him, she blushed  and uncontrollably smiled in an embarassed way after hearing that glimpse of the charming YN that never disappeared from him.

She spreaded her arms wholesomely and looked at her with a smile.

"I know I've said that I wanted to disregard your existence but... I didn't want to be cruel now that I've heard your side and I'm sorry for that because I have to admit...

Although you broke my heart, I still couldn't deny the truth that you're one of the most important person I've met and the first man who helped me explore how love could led us into elsewhere.

You still made me happy, YN. I can't just have it easy to throw you out of my life so... should we be friends again?"

He listened to her patiently and it was overwhelming in the end. "I don't deserve this at all, but I'm highly grateful to take it, Momo. Let's start fresh again." He shook his head and smiled.

You accepted her hug one more time and both took time to indulge how great it must felt've again to their part that they don't have to try pretend, carry a hatred, and keep their unspoken troubles for theirselves.

They are now freed from their own personal chaos and has now created a clean slate of their closeness and connection to each other.

They returned back together where they are approached by the girls who've been watching their melancholic yet heartfelt moment they shared in which they paused their fun to express their happiness for their friends on burying the hatchet between each other.

Both learning that they are currently happy with their own lives and has finally washed away their conflict, they realized that somehow helped each other to realize that maybe having a crazy stupid love with somebody was never really required to be happy and contented in life.

[girl-next-door-writes]

Hello, Goodbye

Characters: Steve Harrington x reader

Summary:  Time apart from you has given Steve time to think about what you mean to him, and maybe your return for the holidays will give him the perfect opportunity to confess his feelings.

Word Count: 1126 word

Prompt: Airport, Forced Proximity, A Hug That Gets Deeper. “You know you’re stuck with me, right?”

A/N: This is the fifth of my Build-A-Festive-Fics so thank you to the amazing anon who put these prompts together for my favourite boy.  

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Steve Harrington paced back and forth in the arrivals lounge; he couldn't shake the nervous energy coursing through him. The holiday season was in full swing, and the airport buzzed with the joyful reunions of families and friends. The scent of freshly baked goods from the nearby coffee shop mixed with the warm glow of festive decorations, creating a backdrop that should have eased Steve's nerves.

Yet, all he could think about was you.

You, his friend who he had been nursing a small crush on for quite some time, had been away at school, studying in a city halfway across the country. It had been too long since he last saw you, and he found himself counting the days until your return. The holiday break was the perfect opportunity to catch up and spend some quality time together.

Steve checked his watch for what felt like the hundredth time. The anticipation and excitement danced in his eyes, but a twinge of uncertainty lingered. What if things had changed? What if you had moved on during your time away? These thoughts crossed his mind, but he quickly brushed them aside. After all, this was the holiday season—a time for joy and celebration.

As the crowd near the arrival gate thickened, Steve's heart raced. Every incoming passenger seemed to heighten his anticipation. Then, there you were—emerging from the gate, surrounded by other travellers, looking slightly dishevelled from your journey.

"Steve!" You called out, waving enthusiastically. Steve's tired eyes lit up at the sight, a genuine smile spreading across his face. Any lingering doubts he had melted away as he quickly made his way over.

"Hey! I've missed you!" Steve exclaimed, enveloping you in a tight hug that seemed to squeeze the breath right out of your lungs. The warmth of the embrace felt familiar, yet there was a subtle nuance to it this time—a depth that lingered longer than usual.

“Missed you too, Stevie,” you whispered into his shoulder, hesitant to break free from the comforting hold.

"We should probably head home, though, right?" he suggested with a gentle smile, maintaining his arm around you while deftly reaching down to retrieve your bag.

As you walked alongside Steve through the bustling airport, the familiar surroundings took on a different hue. The crowd, the noise, and the constant movement seemed to fade into the background as you became increasingly aware of the subtle shifts in Steve's demeanour. His steps were more purposeful, his posture more upright, and a newfound confidence emanated from him.

The two of you navigated through crowded terminals, engaging in easy conversation that flowed effortlessly. There was an unspoken connection, a silent understanding that seemed to have deepened since the last time you met that the forced proximity of the airport environment seemed to amplify. The subtle glances, the occasional touch, and the shared laughter in the face of airport inconveniences all contributed to an undercurrent of a connection that felt undeniable.

As you walked side by side through the bustling airport, Steve couldn't help but steal glances at you. The time apart had given him a chance to reflect on his feelings, and he realized that what he felt for you was more than just a crush. It was a genuine affection that went beyond friendship, a realization that both excited and terrified him. Each time your bodies brushed against each other during the navigation through the bustling crowd, a jolt of nervous excitement surged through him.

The two of you reached the parking lot, and the cold winter air hit your faces. Steve led you to his car, holding the door open for you with a charming smile before tossing your bags into the trunk. The holiday lights around the airport cast a warm glow on both of you as you settled into the car, the heaters starting up as soon as he switched the engine on.

As Steve waited in the queue to exit the carpark, his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The stolen glances at you revealed a sense of admiration, the way your hair framed your face, the warmth in your eyes, you were even more captivating than he had remembered.

Eventually, the conversation turned to the time you spent apart, a topic that carried a hint of apprehension for Steve. He braced himself, expecting to hear the words that would tie his stomach in knots—'I met someone.' But to his relief, those words never came.

“I thought you’d go off and meet all these new people and... well... forget about me,” Steve confessed nervously, stealing another glance at you as he handled the parking ticket.

You chuckled, your response carrying a mix of playfulness and sincerity. “Never. You know you’re stuck with me, right?”

“Good. Wouldn’t have it any other way.” He grinned, the tension that had been building within him seemed to dissipate. The jokey tone couldn't hide the sincerity in your words, and it was as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

"You know," he began, his eyes focused on the car in front but his tone betraying a hint of vulnerability, "I've had some time to think while you were away."

You turned to him, a curious expression on your face. "That sounds dangerous. What about? New haircare routines?"

Steve chuckled nervously, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. "About us, I guess. I mean, we've been friends for so long, and…” he trailed off, his confidence failing him.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you attempted to meet his gaze, a mixture of surprise and joy in your eyes. “And..?”

Steve continued, "Look, I don't want to complicate things or make this awkward. I just needed to be honest with you. The past few months have made me realize that you mean a lot to me, more than I initially thought."

The air in the car held a delicate tension as Steve awaited your response. The holiday lights flickered outside, casting a magical glow on the moment. After a brief pause, a smile played on your lips.

"I've been thinking the same thing," you admitted, your eyes locking onto his. "Maybe being home for the holidays, I don’t know, maybe it’s the perfect time to explore whatever ‘this’ is?”

A genuine grin spread across Steve's face, and he reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours as he turned out of the carpark and headed on home through enchanting neighbourhoods decorated and lit up for Christmas.

Squeezing your fingers between his, Steve stole a glance over at you, his heart racing with a mix of excitement and contentment. The holiday lights reflected in his eyes as he spoke, "I think you're right. It's perfect."

[cinnamonest]

Yandere twst - Jamil

Taking this as an opportunity to make a post for my boy!!! Similar to the last one I'm going with a "consensual relationship that quickly takes a turn for the worse," I am liking the dynamic >:3 Important note that you should probably read the last one for Kalim prior to this one (I originally intended to release it as one post but ended up dividing it bc both were like 12k+ words lmao), so this one makes several references to the other one.

Previous entries for twst series:

[Kalim]

[Floyd]

//manipulative bastard behavior/moderate yandere, somewhat dark, bullying, mind control, I think there might be implications of fem reader iirc

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The first interaction you have with Jamil is only a few brief moments. A conversation in passing, the sort of empty casual exchange that is normally more or less forgotten by both parties before the day is even over.

He's pretty aware of his surroundings at all times, so he sort of saw you walking over out of the corner of his eye, working himself away making food and setting up arrangements and venue as per usual for some function or another that Kalim decided to hold at the last minute on the main campus grounds . Bouncing from one task to the next. But several others have passed by already without a word, so it catches him a bit by surprise when your steps come to a halt, when you speak.

You know, every time I see you, you're always working on something. Don't you ever rest?

Your tone is that sort of endearing, amused way of speaking, but still seems to express a genuine sentiment. You're not exactly spending idle time either -- you have some box or package in your hands, headed somewhere to drop something off. Who knows what compelled you to say something, on this one occasion in particular, to voice the observation you've made quite a few times now. Spontaneous, spur of the moment.  A decision made with casual impulse.

His eyebrows raise, but it doesn't take him more than a moment to formulate a response. A very generic response, one that comes out mechanically, given how often people express similar thoughts to him, tell him he's working too hard, that he deserves a break and all that, things he hears pretty frequently. A randomly chosen option, the first that comes to mind, of a preset list of responses to such inquiries and comments.

A casual sigh, a shrug of the shoulders, followed with a 'well, someone has to get this done, might as well do it myself.' With a pleasant tone and a slight chuckle, of course, as socially expected, that perfect level of exasperation to where he can complain, but just not enough to make it seem like he actually feels burdened. A default exchange like so many others, that he recites his parts of without really thinking about it.

Likewise, you give what he perceives as a typical reply.

If you need any help, I can come back as soon as I get this dropped off...

He just shakes his head.

That's alright. Everything that can be done today is nearly finished anyway.

You shift the box you're carrying, jerking it up with a soft motion to re-secure it in your arms.

Well, alright, if you say so... you can let me know if you ever need any help with anything!

Of course, that in and of itself is also an empty social gesture. So often people say things of the sort -- let me know if you need anything, or I can help if you need, so on and so on, a courtesy expected by arbitrary rules of social etiquette, but not anticipated to be very likely to be actually taken up on the offer. He couldn't even count how many times people have said similar things to him, it's just a matter of social propriety. The exchange melts into the vast collection of perpetual memory, as with every other uneventful moment in one's life, and he doesn't think of it again for the rest of the day.

He's a bit taken aback, then, when you show up the next day. You can see the slight bewilderment on his face when he asks if you need something. Your reply is a bit sheepish, but friendly.

Well, you said 'everything that can get done today' yesterday, so I figured you'd be busy again today too... I don't have anything better to do, and I'm trying to get to know people here, you know? You seem like you could use some help.

Ah. Well, that does make sense. In truth, he values the solitary time he gets to himself, and trying to get to know new people often leaves him rather exhausted. But still, you're a pleasant person, and he would appreciate getting this set-up work for the event tomorrow done faster. He thanks you, pauses for a moment while trying to determine a task to delegate to you. Can't give you something too difficult, seeing as you're generous enough to do this in the first place. You end up performing some menial, repetitive task, simple but necessary, while he does the heavy lifting and more difficult aspects.

It's easy to talk to you, thankfully. You mostly just ask him a bunch of questions about the school, about himself, about Kalim, about the Scarabia dorm, so on and so on. Nothing too intrusive, nothing that's difficult to answer. Truthfully, it's actually kind of nice. He's not particularly used to people expressing a great deal of interest in him, he usually sort of works in the background, quiet, unnoticed, doesn't draw attention to himself. He was a bit weary of the thought of working with someone on this, but he finds that he actually enjoyed the time, once it's over, when you bid him farewell and head back to your own dorm, promising to come by again sometime.

But again, that's a social courtesy. Maybe you will, maybe you won't. It would be rather nice, but he won't be too disappointed nor surprised if you don't; after all, you must be very busy meeting tons of people and adjusting to the situation you've found yourself in here. He's not expecting anything.

Since over a week passes, he starts to think it will be just a one-time thing, not thinking much of it. It's a rather pleasant surprise, this time around, when you do show up again. He says it's nice to see you again, even more of those necessary appropriate courtesy things he's supposed to say, although it is meant sincerely. Thanks you for coming by again.

Conversation comes a bit more easily, as you're not really strangers this time around, your exchanges lack that inherent slight awkwardness that comes with interacting with a person you've never spoken to before. This time he can make some conversation based on asking you how your week was, how you're getting adjusted, so on and so on.

You come back a third time, after that, this time only around five days later. Then a fourth time, although that time you take even longer than the time between the first and second visit. He does take notice of that, supposing it to just be a habit of being observant of details like that.

It turns into a habit. You keep coming back, trying to help out. It's an appreciated act of kindness, but... somewhat uncomfortable, too. He's used to having to do quite a lot by himself, or employing the help of random Scarabia students, but even then he's acting more as a director, telling them what to do while working on other tasks himself. He's not as much used to working directly with someone, having someone hand him things and work right alongside him.

Still, it gets the job done faster. And it's nice to have someone to talk to, makes it feel like it's going by faster too. Not to mention, your returning to help him on multiple occasions suggests you have some desire to be around him, since he's fairly certain it's not as if you find manual labor particularly enthralling or anything. That gives him a feeling that is very...

...Unpleasant.

Yes, categorically, it should be considered unpleasant. A tight constriction of the chest, jittery nerves, increased heart rate, a feeling of unease and bashfulness. None of that is particularly positive, and in fact is rather irksome.

But the feeling is somehow, nonetheless, an addictive one, a sort of natural chemical high that, despite the duality of its unpleasantness, still leaves him with that trademark "warm fuzzy feeling" for the rest of the day, well after your departure. The back-and-forth of how good and bad the feeling is, is confusing and frustrating in and of itself. Not to mention the way he gradually increasingly finds his thoughts drifting to you in some way, wondering what you're doing and where you are. The sudden rushing feeling to his chest whenever he happens to spot you. The way he starts to look forward to your coming to visit and help. The surge of excitement when you do come walking through the door, and admittedly, acute disappointment on the days you don't show up.

More importantly, the conclusions to be drawn are frustrating. He's not clueless, quite the opposite. The realization of the sentiments he has for you aren't something he goes into self-denial about, nor does he have to sort through them.

It just sort of dawns on him one day, when you show up a few minutes late to a class you both have -- he finds himself a bit worried for the few minutes of your absence, and similarly a sensation of relief when you come sheepishly slinking through the doorway, quietly trying to enter the room without being noticed or called out for tardiness. Your eyes briefly meet from across the room. You flash a quick smile in his direction before heading to the spot you normally sit in. The slight concern, the relief, the way that one quick second of eye contact and smile from you made his heartrate go up, made a warm tight feeling in his chest... it just sort of occurs to him within that moment. Yes, he's not the sort of person to be in denial or delusion and convince himself he feels any other way, and is quite good at recognizing and fully understanding his own psychology.

...

...

...Ugh.

Not that he doesn't appreciate you or anything, but at first, it's actually something he's not particularly thrilled about, quite frustrated actually.

Firstly, it's inconvenient. For someone as busy and with so many responsibilities as himself, it's not good to have distractions or liabilities. Such things can compromise one's sense of priority, and keep oneself absent-minded, neither of which he can afford.

More importantly, it's a sort of weakness that he doesn't like the thought of having. His calmness and composition throughout most matters is largely dependent on the fact that he tends to operate from a distance, executing plans by proxy or otherwise indirectly. He doesn't approach things very head-on, it's just not his way of doing things. And any matters he conducts are usually professional or academic, rarely having to involve feelings and emotions, particularly in a relational sense to other people. While he's very persuasive, well-liked, and certainly doesn't struggle to socialize or anything, he doesn't really form a lot of very close relationships.

Thus, while would never admit to it, he's sort of lost when it comes to matters of a truly romantic nature, and would be very awkward if he tried to be forward or initiate any sort of display of affection. Thankfully, he's self-aware of that, and isn't about to make a fool of himself doing something stupid and impulsive.

This leads to a sort of stagnation. Yes, he'll do everything in his power to set up the correct circumstances in which he can be around you, will manipulate all sorts of surrounding factors and nearly everyone in your social network, even if that involves countless hours of quietly carrying out plans... he just won't, you know, ever say it outright to you, at least not unless you do first.

After all, even in literature and media, courtship is often compared to some form of game, where the one who cares more and needs the other more is thought of as the weaker, "losing" party. There's an innate sort of vulnerability to transparency in openness to one's emotions, and he's strongly averse to that. Part of it is the innate sensitivity to rejection present in all people, but it's also a matter of control. He likes situations and people and things that give him a firm sense of control, stability, security. People who are easily manipulated, situations that he can easily direct the outcome of... and opening up such a situation would mean relinquishing control of whatever happens next, control of his own emotional state, control over the inherent power imbalance present deep within every social interaction, over to you. Can't do that.

And when that "losing" party makes their desperation and vulnerability known, it turns off the other, bores them, makes them feel the desperate one is disposable and soon treats them as such after losing interest.

Well, some people. If you ask him, the thought of that level of desperation and neediness from a partner is actually quite nice. He can't really wrap his head around why some people would find it irritating or boring when just the thought of it seems like a euphoric fantasy. Since he likes control, a lack thereof, a sense that something is slipping out of his grasp, that he can't easily dictate the actions or results of something, is something he can't stand for.

So, he can't do it. Can't expose that degree of openness, risk rejection.

But that's alright, he can't afford to have that sort of relationship with someone anyway, it would simply interfere with his responsibilities too much. So he determines, at least initially.

The solution to both of these problems, then, is to simply refrain. No interference with his responsibilities, and no need to expose any vulnerability. He's very used to restraining his emotions, refraining from acting upon impulses or desires, however harmless they may be, because responsibility must take priority. Rarely has something consumed his thoughts to such a degree, but still, he can handle it.

Thus, for a while, he might actually avoid you to some extent, thinking it will decrease the chances of attachment. Gets things done in a different location than where you usually find him, works at different times.

But then it seems so boring and empty when he's working alone, when he doesn't have your bright smile there, it feels very... depressing. Likewise, when he sees you again, coming up with some excuse as to why he was absent the day before or so (did you come looking for him and he wasn't there? Were you disappointed? The thought of that is satisfying on its own...), the discontentment goes right back to feeling everything is alright and well with the world, and it's a feeling he just can't give up.

He quickly realizes it seems pointless to continuously resist. If he can't rid himself of it, he might as well try to work with it, adapt to the best of his ability. That seems like the only logical conclusion. Keep you close, but not too close, and to avoid exposing any affections beyond very simple appreciation for your help and presence, at least until he has full security that he can afford to do otherwise.

He doesn't initiate it, but gladly welcomes it when you start to seek him out elsewhere. You learn you have the same lunch period during most of the week, and a few electives together. You don't always talk to or sit next to him, but you sort of rotate between your friends, so he gets to interact with you some of the time.

The other times, though, you opt to talk to others instead. Turns out you're getting along quite well with several people on campus since you showed up here. He just sort of waits at the beginning of the class to see whether or not you'll come to him, or if you go to someone else.

If it's the former, he's certainly happy about it, perhaps almost a bit relieved that that was your choice. You would never get the impression it was what he was hoping for, though, he ensures that. Refrains from looking up when you enter a room, stares blankly down at a paper or textbook on the desk, as if not paying attention, giving no semblance of caring either way, merely watching you from the corner of his eye, and pretending to only notice your presence the moment you sit down.

Whenever it's the latter, he'd be lying if he said he didn't feel an increasingly sharp sense of disappointment. Perhaps a bit of irritation. A strange, gnawing feeling in his stomach, a tightness to his chest. Very opposing feelings, ones that he soon realizes linger with him the entire day. If you choose to talk to him, the rest of his day feels great, and if not, he finds himself a bit disgruntled for the rest of the day. It feels embarrassing for something so simple to be affecting him to such an extent, but he can't control the emotional aspect.

That begins to create a greater concern.

A bit of worry that this initially unwelcome sentiment of affection is starting to create some other, more problematic feelings. Ones that feel harder to handle.

It's more of a subconscious worry, at first, a faint uneasiness that largely rests at the back of his mind. The full extent of the realization comes as a sudden occurrence, one day, when you don't show up at the end of the day for the first time in a while, seeing as you've started coming by to help him out on a daily basis now.

He's a bit disappointed, sure. But it's no big deal, it's not as if you ever agreed to come every day or anything, you're certainly under no obligation to do so, it's incredibly generous for you to come at all in the first place.

...You could have said something, though, you know.

It's not as if you don't see him throughout the day in passing, in class. It's completely voluntary to begin with, so of course it's not necessary for you to tell him if you're coming or not, nor does he take it as a rudeness that you didn't, it's just... you could have. It would have been appreciated. After all, now he has to wonder where you are, which leads him to contemplate the very small possibility that something might be wrong, which causes unnecessary worry that he could have been spared had you just bothered to stop him for a second, or send a message with a single sentence since you exchanged numbers a while back, neither of which would have taken very long... but that's a selfish mentality, so he tells himself. Obviously you must be spending time with other people doing other things, like anyone does, which you have every right to do.

He can't help but wonder with whom, though. A few people come to mind, he mentally goes down the list of people he sees you with most frequently and at what time of day he sees you with each one...

Which is something he only now realizes he's subconsciously been keeping track of. But that's force of habit, he has to be observant like that... okay, no, it's not, it's definitely more than that, he can't lie to himself. The force of habit does contribute, but nonetheless.

Still, if he runs down the list, given the time of day and day of the week, he can come up with one most likely possibility, and a couple lesser possibilities, as to your current location, company, and activity. The fair degree of certainty is reassuring.

But there's still a knot in his stomach the more he thinks about it. His hands keep working, but his mind is playing imagery and words in his imagination, things you might be talking about and saying and doing and what others might be saying back to you and it's a very, very, very awful feeling.

Soon enough, he's forced to snap back to awareness when he realizes the task he was working on is done while his mind was elsewhere, and nearly an hour has passed. He should probably go home and get started on food for the evening.

It's not the direction his feet take him in, though.

It can't hurt to check just for a second. Besides, it's only like a five minute detour, so he might as well. Just a brisk walk through a few halls, down a few doors, just barely peeking over a door window to ensure he remains unseen.

Sure enough, he was right. You're just sitting around and talking. He makes a quick mental note of the other individuals in the room, tries to listen in for a moment before realizing it's (unfortunately) too muffled to be clearly heard, then turns around and goes home.

And ends up sitting on the edge of the bed, elbow to each thigh and head resting on each respective hand, staring at the wall, running through the events of the past hour and a half, fully realizing the significance of how unusual and intense his behavior was. He was aware of it even in the moment, sure, but the momentary impulse overrode any sense of reason. It's a mistake he tells himself not to make again.

But he knows the feeling is increasing. The intensity is getting worse and worse with each passing day. While he's careful not to be careless about it, he finds himself making a habit of checking on you on the days you don't come around to see him. The fact that there even are such days, seeing you with other people doing something else, starts to upset him more and more, to the extent he starts thinking about it at random throughout the day. Each occurrence of such thoughts striking him with a feeling of bitterness that makes him clench his jaw, curl his hands into fists, even respond more bluntly than he normally would to other people when approached -- he even overheard, on one such occasion, after giving a frustrated what? to someone that approached him, the same student remarking to someone else that the vice housewarden has been in a really poor mood lately, to which the other seemed to agree.

The potential consequences of it all does worry him. But his response to these emotions, and understanding of them, isn't quite what you might expect.

Unlike almost anyone else would be, he's not concerned or confused by the acknowledgement of the fact that he has abnormally intense, compulsive, obsessive attachment. He's not really alarmed by realizing what's happening.

See, most people go through a reckoning phase, having to do with their self-image. Most see themselves as a good person, and struggle to come to terms with their actions and thoughts — ultimately either coming to terms with the wrongness of what they want, or deluding themselves.

But Jamil is no stranger to having nefarious urges, nor does he have any real issues with acceptance of the reality of his desires. But more importantly, part of what makes him such a force to be reckoned with, and gives him such frightening potential for success as an obsessive, is a lack of any compulsion to prescribe to conventional morality, nor any feeling of need to justify his own actions. He's fully aware that the ideas in his head and urges in his thoughts are "wrong," there's no period of self-bargaining or attempting to rationalize or justify anything to himself, no attempts at self-delusion. He's just perfectly fine with accepting that he wants to do things considered immoral.

In fact, completely unlike Kalim, he's almost unnervingly self-aware. There may have been a bit of confusion, or very brief attempts to justify his actions to himself in the beginning, but after the initial realizations take place, he becomes acutely and immediately aware of every thought, every action.

He wouldn't think of himself as a bad person, but unlike most people, he doesn't think of himself as a particularly good person either. In fact, he finds the thought of people who believe themselves to be fully good to be rather exasperating and foolish. Do people really believe themselves to be innately good, that they won't act on selfish desires? He's never understood that.

It's not at all uncommon, nor is he any stranger to strong sentiments. Everyone has heard of such a thing before. It's common enough that you often hear advice of obsessive lovers being something to be avoided, meaning that while it's viewed negatively, the frequency of its occurrence indicates that it's not particularly abnormal. One could even argue it's innate in some people, some leftover instinct from more primitive days of the human species. There's plenty of cases of it in media, in the news, accounts you see from people who were subject to such a thing,  and even plenty of cases in folklore. They say the great Sorcerer himself used to be fond enough of a princess to try and kill someone over her, or something like that.

It ties into his own self-perception too, his honesty to himself about his personhood. Someone who would develop such urges and feelings... yeah, he can see that happening to him. At first, it actually doesn't seem to make sense, but the more he thinks about it, the more it does make sense, after a long while of contemplating it almost amusingly, as if he's a third party analyzing someone else, and not himself. It checks out, he supposes. Irksome and inconvenient that that would develop in him, but there's no use trying to fight those kinds of urges when, based on his own observations and accounts of such things, the people who tend to have such tendencies always seem to have it in such a way that is clearly an innate part of their psychology, thus pointless to avoid, and better dealt with by adapting and adjusting. Oh well.

Those sorts of cases frequently end poorly for the individual in question, but those are normal people, with normal levels of control and cunning. By contrast, he knows himself well enough to know he has high restraint and inhibition, so the risk of acting out and drawing attention is near nonexistent, and he's patient and calculated enough that he's fairly certain he can act out the ideas he begins to have without risk of consequence.

Because there would be negative consequence, he's sure of that. The extent and intensity of his emotions is at a point that it could be considered erratic or obsessive, as he already knows full well, and would cause alarm if you or anyone else became aware of it. Even if, say, you were to return the feelings to a normal extent, even if you like him, he still has no doubt that the full intensity of what he is capable of, the malicious and unethical nature of many of the urges themselves, would almost certainly cause you to change your mind. So even if you respond positively, he has to keep that in check.

But acknowledging the potential consequences of acting out of line aside, he's surprisingly very unbothered it, for someone who is coming to the realization that they have feelings and urge for behaviors that go beyond the conventions of normalcy or what is considered "heathy." The latter of which he just rolls his eyes at; he's always been convinced that most people condemning emotions as "unhealthy" are really just trying to get people to conform to social norms -- hey, if he wants to let himself be slowly consumed by resentment over the course of his entire life, that's his business, you know? Same thing applies here. Abiding by the cultural norms and social expectations of a "healthy relationship" and "being ethical" is just a roundabout way of stopping him from doing what he wants and won't get him the results he desires, so no need to even try to listen to such nonsense.

Alongside all of that, he has remarkable persuasion skills, can lie and act very convincingly if needed.  Difficult to catch off-guard, has planned out interactions and alternate paths to take in case one avenue doesn't work out. Always prepared for almost anything that could go wrong. He's patient, cunning, intelligent, perceptive... all traits you do not want in someone with his intentions. He's fairly good at concealing emotions as well -- sure, sometimes a bit of it may slip out here and there, but he's still infinitely better at it than the vast majority of people.

All of this combined — lack of concern for ethics, high self-awareness, fairly high ability to mask his emotions, unhesitating acceptance of the realization of forming an obsession, high intelligence and perceptiveness, great patience, and high impulse control in favor of cunning premeditation — makes him an unusually highly effective obsessive with an almost alarming capacity for harm and success. One of the most unfortunate individuals in the establishment you could end up catching the affections of, in terms of your chances of things ending well for you.

Not that there aren't a few moments where it slips through, just the occasional word or gesture. He's still better than virtually anyone else at concealing emotions, but nonetheless, those emotions are the ones that may just come out, if but for a moment.

You end up missing a few more days of helping him in a row. Friends invited you out to a couple of events. You didn't really think anything of it, at least, not until you come back to your usual routine, on what would have been the fourth day of absence if you hadn't come.

He's already not the most talkative person in the world, but you quickly notice an unusual curtness to his tone. Usually, if you sit down and open with a how was your day?, he'll shrug, say nothing eventful occurred, or make a small mention of something that happened if something eventful did occur.

This time, though, you get a much more brief answer. It was fine.

The tone of his voice is clearly cold, almost passive-aggressive. You tilt your head and ask if something happened, if something's wrong. You get a similarly curt answer.

No.

But as he tends to do with regards to his own behavior, he catches himself, realizes how it comes off. For a brief moment, the realization is actually a bit embarrassing -- he knows getting bitter over such a thing is immature behavior. So he corrects it, shakes his head as if clearing his thoughts, comes up with something about being momentarily distracted and answering on a mental autopilot so as to seem that he was just not paying attention, and asks you to repeat the question, this time forcing out a regular calm demeanor as if not upset.

This, the initial disgruntlement goes more or less unregistered in your memory. You do notice, though, as you continue talking, that he asks more than once about how your week has been -- you answer with a general statement that it's been good and just regular life, nothing out of the ordinary, but apparently that answer isn't quite sufficient.

And what have you been doing these past few days?

He nearly bites his tongue as soon as he says it. That came out a bit more forward and obvious than it sounded in his head. Thankfully, a quick glance upward from his task shows no indication of perturbance on your end, as you merely smile and answer in full, giving a few details of what you've been up to. Hanging out with friends, primarily. He has to refrain from asking specifically whom, seeing as at that point, further questioning on the matter would probably even strike you as oddly intrusive. He'll just have to leave it at that.

Likewise, he'll have to accept you doing whatever you want with your spare time. Any indication that he feels any other way or trying to influence your decision would certainly be noticed, and perceived as strange. It's not like he's entitled to your time... that is, from the perspective of general social consensus. He knows that reasonably, from an objective standpoint, he isn't entitled to that. Even if he might personally feel that way.

He does seem distracted, throughout the rest of the day, has to get you to repeat yourself a few times after seemingly spacing out. But he's always rather busy and under a lot of stress, you have no reason to think anything of it.

He truly does do a good job of concealing his thoughts and feelings. Most obsessive admirers would have long since cracked and shown their true colors by now, as the months go by. His is just tiny little slip-ups, every now and then, much like the first one. Primarily a slight coldness and bitterness to his demeanor whenever you go a significant amount of days without coming by. It only lasts for a few moments before he corrects it, but you do occasionally start to take notice of it. Still, that doesn't seem too out of the ordinary. You're friends, so you can understand he'd be a bit upset, when you think about it, and he's under a lot of stress anyway. Much to his satisfaction, you actually seem to take notice and correct the behavior all on your own, as you gradually stop having significant gaps in days between seeing him, and even on days you aren't coming, you now usually send a message.

There was also that time you stayed in for the day due to feeling sick, and woke up after a long sickness-induced nap to four back-to-back messages, one every hour or so from the time class sessions start, increasingly concerned by your lack of reply. Which is perhaps a bit much, but the messages abruptly stop around noon, as if realizing it was a bit too intense and backing down. But in all fairness, it's only natural to be concerned, so you appreciate it, if anything.

Then there was also the time you had that one guy that kept seeming to try to get close to you for a while, someone you'd worked with in one of your classes once and got along well with. The two of them had never interacted to your knowledge, until you were talking one day and another familiar face came up seemingly out of nowhere. Rather forcefully intruding on the conversation with an uncharacteristic bluntness and coldness, and a near tangible aura of hostility, a glare distinguishable even to you.

Yes, it was definitely too forward, and certainly both the most impulsive act and the largest blunder he's made so far, but it was borderline torture standing there up on the second floor, watching from the window, unable to do anything. He manages to at least somewhat defend himself, and hopefully quell any irritation or confusion you might have had, by telling you later in private that the individual in question is in fact known to be of poor character, manipulative and two-faced, so people say, and was probably intending to take advantage of your kind nature. You seem to accept that, much to his relief, and even express some gratitude. Unfortunately, though, he won't be able to use that excuse again without seeming suspicious, so he just has to hope you don't start to get close to someone with obviously non-platonic intentions again.

Still. It's not as if he can just take the risk, nor does he think that a simple intimidating interaction will deter the other guy entirely. Other measures must be taken.

To you, though, it's just a confirmation that Jamil was right, once the guy gets expelled. Apparently he attacked someone at random, became violent with a group of students and apparently injured one to such an extent that the administration didn't even just give him a strike, but viewed it as grounds for immediate expulsion. You mention it, when you're visiting Jamil as usual later that day, with concern and shock over the incident in your voice as you ask if he heard about it.

He just shrugs. See, told you... ah, but it's not your fault you didn't realize it. Some people are just very good at concealing their true natures, you know? But it's good that you distanced yourself from the guy before anything bad happened to you. You voice your concurrence with that statement.

And yet, after that guy disappears, so does Jamil, at least during those same time blocks. He goes back to not being around during that time, leaving you to find new people to talk to during that time instead. After all, he doesn't want to come across as clingy. Settling for returning to the window position allows for greater scope of observation, anyway.

Jamil engages in a great deal of his fixation from a distance, with you unaware of his presence. He won't necessarily come up and talk to you, but he'll watch you from across a room, from a window looking down on you below, from a shadow a ways away from the crowds and groups you're busy interacting with. He doesn't have to worry about unintentionally being suffocating, this way, while still knowing what you're doing. It's actually a process that often makes him upset, an irritating swelling feeling to his chest, because people like you far more than he would prefer, and now he's forced to watch. Not that he would want people to dislike you either, that would probably hurt your self-esteem and... ah, whatever. It's just irksome to see people gather around you so much. It would be preferable if your presence wasn't treated as something of a spectacle on the campus, but there's nothing he can do about that.

He's even more careful not to make mistakes and show affection than he is careful about negative emotions, but that doesn't mean positive emotions don't also sometimes show as well.

You're far too nice to him, for one thing. You just have to go on these spiels about how much you appreciate his help with various things, or when he thanks you for helping you just have to smile so sweetly and say you enjoy it, that you're glad you get to come by and all... it's one of a few ways to make him genuinely flustered, unable to look you in the eye, all stiff and fidgety as he mumbles something about how it's appreciated, and that you don't have to feel pressured to and whatnot. You have a tendency to say too-nice things that leave him feeling all hot in the face and embarrassed for the rest of the day. Just like the initial feeling of attachment itself, it's almost unpleasant in its own way, and yet, it's addictive.

You still just barely notice the slip-ups, if at all. Those times where he maybe gets just a bit too close, talks to you for a bit too long, seems a little bit too nosy asking what you've done today or prying for details on a conversation you had with someone else -- before he catches himself, correcting the mistake by switching topics or coming up with a reason to leave so as not to linger too long. Can't give you the impression that he wants to stay around you for much longer, can't come off as desperate or vulnerable.

Little things like that. Mostly tiny little mistakes, and besides, he's increasingly even more careful not to make such errors, often getting a bit panicked after each one and becoming stricter in the future. None of it ever crosses the line of what would really catch your attention as something abnormal or something that would induce any concern.

It carries on for some time like that. His self-control allows him to maintain a state of limbo, where he can keep himself in check, not doing anything he shouldn't nor making any move to take anything further, but ensuring you stay close, that you don't drift away. Making sure there are no more issues with people becoming too close to you in ways he doesn't like.

But much to his satisfaction, you seem to grow closer anyway, without him having to take any sort of action to do so. You come by more than ever, and he likes the implications of the fact that you come to see him so often.

He tends to be a bit more open to sharing thoughts and observations normally kept reserved to you, too, as he grows more comfortable talking to you. A bit more openly negative and sardonic. It's not even intentional, really, it happens subconsciously at first. He's just never had an outlet before, and once he does, it becomes such a source of catharsis that one day, after making a slightly negative comment, to which you inquire about the matter, he finds himself starting to perhaps say a bit too much. Unloading all of his frustrations and bottled up negativity. Initially, he catches himself doing it and cuts himself off after a few moments, starting to apologize and saying something about being irritable as he didn't sleep much the night before or something like that.

But you shake your head.

Oh, come on, it's fine. You don't have to pretend around me, you know?

He pauses for a moment... but shrugs, starts to return to voicing the same thoughts. He still won't fully express his feelings, then, but if you're fine with it... it can't hurt to talk about some of his frustrations and complaints. If anything, you seem to find some of the comments amusing, snickering at some of the more sarcastic mutterings. It actually feels quite nice. It's something he hasn't ever really had before, usually having to keep all his negative thoughts to himself. In the end, you end up unwinding too, complaining about this or that. A cathartic session for you both, and you end up sharing a few smiles and laughs over some of each other's accounts and shared annoyances.

It would seem, though, that his efforts to grow closer to you do pay off. It's pleasing. It feels like it's "going somewhere," so to speak, that all the conversations have progressed to being closer and closer; which is, of course, what he would hope for.

Eventually, he figures it can't hurt to try and push for some progress himself. Yes, perhaps he can afford to try and make some small push forward, little by little. He takes the same approach as he does to most matters -- quietly, patiently, avoiding risky, bold, reckless actions in favor of a gradual and calculated plan.

What he decides on doing does require him to take some initiative and ask, although he chose a group event rather than anything you'd be by yourselves for. Just one of the many large dorm-wide social events they have in Scarabia on a regular basis, although this one in particular is supposed to be for something special or another. You agree to it, with a smile at that. It's very reassuring.

Except it turns out that that presents a brand new problem.

Well, part of a larger problem. As he's observed, you've been mingling with different people, forming a friend group during your time on the campus. He would know, he's been watching very carefully and making note of each person, and may or may not have interfered once or twice behind the scenes to prevent you from interacting with individuals he would prefer you not to.

One, however, has not only slipped through any attempts to deter interaction, but apparently has avoided registering on his radar of who you interact with entirely. The only conclusion is that you must have had all your interactions during those times where he can't watch over you. Just perfectly, by the narrowest of margins, managing to grow close to each other, somehow exclusively during those few times he's had his back turned and off fulfilling some other responsibilities, completely unbeknownst to him until this very moment.

Or so he learns, when you arrive, smile when you see him, immediately making your way over to him to talk... until something else catches your attention, something behind him. Your eyes flicker to something just over his shoulder, something he can hear approaching with rapid footsteps and saying your name. Something that quickly swerves around him in favor of lunging at you and grabbing you into an enthusiastic embrace.

...What.

It feels like some sort of cruel joke from a higher power. Like the will of the universe is to spite him. Like being a comedic relief character where the running gag is his constant misfortune. He finds himself standing there, arms limp at his sides, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, eye twitching as he looks back and forth between the two of you.

But... but how did... when did you... you never mentioned... why...

You're clearly overwhelmed, though, you have that awkward smile where you're clearly uncomfortable but don't say anything to be nice... so after a moment of pause (as soon as he finishes mentally cursing his very existence to whatever force of the universe is listening, that is), he doesn't hesitate to reach out, grab and pull the invasive creature off of you by the shirt collar.

Kalim, you're being suffocating.

Not that those words deter the other boy for even a second. Other than a brief choking sound at sudden jerking motion pulling the front of his clothes against his throat, he immediately recovers, bright-eyed as he gets out an apology, smiling all the while, and continues rambling about something else, until being interrupted.

I didn't realize you two even knew each other.

It takes every ounce of his willpower to force those words out in a way that sounds neutral and curious rather than like he's about to strangle him to death, but he manages. You smile and start to clarify that oh, yes, you have this or that class together and have talked a few times... which just so happens to take place during the longest stretch of the day that he has to go without seeing you, which he frequently worries about. How incredibly coincidental. Haha. Anyway, if you'll excuse him for just one second, he has to go check on something to ensure that the students have everything ready--

--which is actually him walking off to the nearest secluded spot and slamming his fist into the wall with all the force he can muster without breaking his fingers. Takes a deep breath in, deep breath out. Okay. That was cathartic enough to hopefully get him through the night with minimal homicidal urges.

Kalim seems absolutely determined to test that, however. You would think he was the one who invited you here, given the fact that he seems dead-set on monopolizing your time and attention in every conceivable way. He can barely get a word in, can barely say anything to you for a few seconds without getting interrupted. At several points throughout the night you quite literally get dragged away by the wrist to go look at something or participate in something, while he sits there left with nothing to do but seethe over it, trying to distract himself by taking in all the stimulus of the crowded lounge, lest the violent urges start getting the best of him because he's about arm's length away from several very sharp objects on the table and it's starting to get a bit too tempting. By the time midnight rolls around, he's barely gotten to spend any time with you at all. He's pretty sure you've actually been trying to keep coming back and talk to him, but keep getting dragged off and are too nice to say anything about it.

Normally, he's masterful at keeping his outward emotional expressions in check. But for once, he finds himself so deeply upset, such a tight feeling in his chest, that he can't sit there and bear it with a blank face like he normally does with everything else. He ends up having to walk away, quietly slipping away to go walk it off to sulk and seethe alone.

The campus is fairly empty this late, so it's easy to get some fresh air by oneself as he mulls over it. Even though he's by himself, he sighs, has to stop and pinch at and rub the bridge of his nose in irritation. Getting this worked up over a crush, what is he, a grade schooler? It's embarrassing, even if he's the only one who knows. Even having what would be called a "crush" is embarrassing, really, it feels infantile. It seems like something that would be laughable if other people caught onto it. Ugh.

He keeps walking, until he's out of the dorm, slowly moping his way across the campus, long since gone quiet and still due to the lateness of the hour, no one else around. Makes his way over to a bench in an empty campus building.

Finally he gets to just sit down, takes a deep breath in, deep breath out, tries to relax the tension in his shoulders, tries to calm down. Mentally forces himself to clear his thoughts, leaving a blank slate so he can transition to thinking about something else to hopefully take his mind off things, and just allows the first thought that pops up to come to the forefront of his mind. Unfortunately, that thought is:

Which one do you like more?

Dammit. Can't clear his mind after all.

And God, that feels childish. Like how young kids quarrel over who is the best friend of someone else. Just thinking about it feels embarrassing, even if the thought is just to himself.

But it does seem like question that has an answer. After all, when he thinks about it, he can form a pretty solid ranking in his head of acquaintances, and which ones he's more fond of than others. Surely you have the same.

No, that's a stupid question. Obviously it would be him.

...Right?

Yes, it's a ridiculous question because it's obvious. You spend more time with him, you know him far better... it's a foolish question, he shouldn't even be worried.

Still, he can't get rid of the gnawing, unpleasant feeling in his chest, it's eating away at him, driving him up the wall. It takes a while before he can bring himself to go back.

By the time he does so, though, it's fairly late into the night, you're clearly exhausted (no doubt largely due to having your energy essentially siphoned out of you), you speak in that sort of "departure" tone as people do when they're indicating the end of a visit as you say that well, I should be getting back...

Maybe it's the heat of the moment, the lateness of the night drawing out impulsiveness, the possessive irritation and intense emotions, perhaps some need to feel reassurance, some sense of reclaiming something, that emboldens him. Maybe he's still just irked about not having gotten to spend any real time with you. Or maybe his earlier crisis has left him with a desperate need for confirmation. Regardless, for once, his impulse wins over his inhibition, over any self-control. He finds the words coming out without thinking.

It's rather late. You could just stay with me, if you want.

He stiffens as soon as the words come out of his mouth.

It's not as if you're that naive. It would be one thing if he said there was a spare room or something, but directly telling you you can stay in his own room has very obvious implications that he definitely can't excuse his way out of, and he's fairly certain you're definitely not at that point, at least not yet, and his skin crawls at the realization that saying that most likely just ruined any chances of ever reaching that if anything. All that effort, all this time and careful planning, and he may have very well knocked all that down in one sentence.

He starts to try and back out of it, heartrate going up with a moment of panic, opening his mouth and getting out a brief stammering attempt — ah, nevermind, if you don't—

Okay!

There's a few moments of quiet. Blinking at you with a numb expression before seemingly processing your words. You've never seen him undergo quite such a loss of composure within a second, eyes going wide open and stumbling over his words.

I... Well, a... alright. Then, you... I'll, ah, it's over there...

But it's endearing, really. You find yourself smiling while you walk back. He keeps talking about something else entirely, as if to distract you both from any acknowledgement of the exchange that just occurred. At least he manages to successfully distract you into looking at something off in the distance once you reach the room so you don't see the slight tremor to his hands getting the door unlocked and open.

The night lasts a long time. You can still hear the muffled sound of the noise going on outside as the other students continue to do whatever it is they're all doing (some collective game or another, being far too loud), but you manage to talk at least loud enough to hear yourselves over them... and continue to talk... and sit down... and then you lay down... and then you're both side by side... and then your legs brush up against each other... and then there's a few awkward moments of silence...

You do like him quite a bit, so, you're fine with it. He doesn't flinch or pull back when you lean over onto him, doesn't shift when you pull yourself closer, instead wrapping an arm around you. One thing leads to another, as such matters tend to go over. It's awkward at first, of course, like most friend-to-lover situations are -- once the heat of the moment is over, you're left panting and sweaty and you both sort of look up at the same moment and your eyes meet. A few seconds of silence pass. For such a composed person, you've never seen him quite so flustered... but it's cute. You find yourself grinning and giggling and reveling in the ecstasy.

You're happy about it. You get the sense he's happy about it too. You fall asleep pretty quickly, enveloped by warmth.

And he is happy. Truly. It doesn't even feel real.

But he's also very, very worried. Panicked. It begins to set in before he can even properly appreciate the bliss of the moment.

Even if you are willingly with him, even if you love him, that almost makes things worse, because now he has to work with the fact that the social expectation is to increase time with you and that he can be more openly attached, but still have to be careful not to go too far. Not to mention, this makes things more fragile. Riskier. Doesn't it? You're going to be more observant. It will be harder to hide certain behaviors from you. You'll be more careful and critical of what he does as a natural means of protecting yourself, you'll notice any slips of the tongue he might have gotten away with before.

Besides, this part is just one step of many, so he can't afford to relax. He thinks back to that same concept as before, that the social interworkings of all this sort of thing is like a game, a competition. If he lets his guard down and assumes everything is fine now, that just opens the possibility of being caught unprepared if something bad does happen. No, now he has to be even more vigilant and even more protective than before, and more careful of limits.

Nor are said expectations and their limits always clear. Where does the line of acceptable behavior get drawn? Does it not vary from person to person, from one act to the next? He can't afford to find out by trial and error, either, that's too risky.

For a short while, he contemplates if maybe he could get away with just one or two small abnormalities. After all, everyone has flaws, and people expect that partners will have flaws. Can he outright tell you to not interact with a specific person? Is that normal? No, that would definitely be seen as controlling. There's definitely some things he can determine by thinking it through like that, but that doesn't apply to every situation, which is the greatest concern.

And perhaps more importantly, it makes everything feel harder to deal with. It was easier when he had to refrain entirely. Now, it's one of those situations where having a taste of something makes one all that much more weak to craving for it, makes it all that much more alluring than when you had no concept of what the experience was truly like before.

At least his nerves are calmed by the fact that you spend more time in his presence. He doesn't have to deal with intrusive thoughts of concern about what you're doing and if something could be wrong at any given moment.

Perhaps most relieving of all is that other people seem to back off to a greater extent than they already did. You must have told people.

Well, most people. Most people back off, seem to respect him enough to give you two a bit of space while still being friendly towards you both. Don't get too physically close when talking to you, and certainly don't touch you.

Except for one.

The only upside to you being so close to Kalim is that, by extension, you see him more often than you would have just him on his own, as the two are often together. Granted, you're obviously spending more time with him anyway, but now that he's with you more often, that means he gets to witness you two interact, and on the rare occasion you were seeking out Kalim for something, he's usually there too.

You two get along very well. Which he's very frequently forced to bear witness to for the entire duration of your interactions, quietly sitting there with a clenched jaw and fingernails digging into his thighs and the occasional eye twitch that hopefully goes unnoticed. At the same time, that's comforting in its own way, as he can directly witness it rather than have to be psychologically tormented by knowing you two interact but not knowing the details and specifics.

But unlike how Jamil himself would give plenty of space to Kalim and a darling, Kalim does not do the same for him. He's still talkative with you, and touchy too. Far too much for the sake of sanity. He constantly grabs at you, hugs you when he sees you (for several extended seconds, not just for a moment), gets far too close into your personal space when talking. On more than one occasion, he's insisted on trailing along with you two for this or that venture, being an oblivious third wheel — which is made far worse by the fact that you don't seem to mind at all, paying them both equal amounts of attention.

At first, he tries to apply some reason to it. Maybe he thinks it's fine since the two of them are inherently close. Maybe he doesn't realize just how intense he is, or doesn't think he's passing the boundaries of what's considered acceptable. Or...

...And then he realizes that that's giving Kalim's intellect way too much credit. No, it's just how he is, nothing more. He's just outright not thinking about it.

This can become an issue, to say the least. Over time, he does his best to try and avoid you both coming into contact, tries to memorize schedules and give Kalim a wide berth to ensure minimal contact. Nonetheless, of course, it doesn't always work. He finds himself grinding his teeth, stiffening up as he watches you two interact. A person with less self-control would have certainly put the boy in a chokehold at least once by now, but he manages to bite his tongue. Can't just let him have this one thing in peace? Have something to himself? No, of course not, of course he has to be the one to suffer like this... despite the thoughts in his head, he has to be careful not to let that pessimism show in any form of outward bitterness, has to keep a neutral face and mildly exasperated voice at best, pretending any frustration towards the other is due to his high energy and antics and not the fact that just watching you two talk ignites violent instincts he didn't even know he possessed. But there's not much else he can do other than tolerate it.

Besides, it's not as if that's the only person he has to worry about either. Now that you're actually attached to him, he has to ensure that you stay that way, seeing as plenty of people would gladly take his place. But rather than just dealing with others, part of keeping you means making sure you're attached to him.

Unfortunately for you, this does not manifest as exceptional kindness towards you, nor trying to please you, or anything of the sort.

Sure, he could be sweet to you, shower you with affection and attention and gifts and so on... but that is a form of "losing." Making it too obvious that he needs you. There's a chance you'd get bored. After all, why take the "wholesome" way, when that isn't guaranteed? Especially when what is so often deemed the wrong way of doing things, has a guarantee to work. Frankly, that way has a higher success rate, so he sees no reason not to take it.

He has plenty of subtle, conniving means of prying into your mind without you really noticing it's intentional. You, well, you're incredibly easy to manipulate -- and that's a good thing. He likes it that way. Every single trick in the book, you respond perfectly.

It's fairly easy to discern any insecurities you have, some he was already aware of and some that become more evident as you become more emotionally open around him. So he can pick some nice words and compliments that are just a little bit backhanded, have the slightest of implication of a double-meaning shortcoming or insult laden in them, you visibly seem to notice, and sure enough, it's only a matter of time before you express some insecurity over the the thing in question -- and he's right there to assure you that it's entirely fine, or even appreciated... the unspoken implication being that yes, the thing you're insecure about is true, but he likes it. Worded in just the right way so that you won't feel like it's intentional, no, you're sure he had the best of intentions and meant to make you feel good, but it just came out the wrong way, or you're just being too sensitive, or he's just being how guys can be where they're a bit obtuse to how their words might not be as helpful as they intend. He's clearly trying to make you feel happy, right? You appreciate that in its own right.

Besides, it's easy to reassure you with physical affections, too. That becomes another frequent element of your day to day life... he's a fairly restrained person in public, and much prefers being alone and behind closed doors rather than being together while around others. Besides, even if not just for getting to interact more directly with you, being alone in the dorm means being able to relax and unwind... and get out any stress.  Which he has a great deal of -- you can't even begin to imagine the level of stress this boy has pent up, given the hectic nature of his daily life.

He's not particularly "kinky," per se, not really into any particular paraphilias or extreme forms of bondage or use of much tools, so much as he is simply rough. He tends to grab rather hard. Likes holding you down the whole time in some way, restraining some part of you with his own hands, often pinning your forearms down or grabbing the underside of your knees and pressing your thighs against your chest with force. His hand often ends up on your throat. He has a tendency to be rather harsh with it overall, merely rutting into you with animal-like forcefulness, leaving you exhausted and sore... although he at least seems to get flustered about it after the fact, mumbling apologies and getting you water, holding you close and all that.

You do notice some of the more... aggressive elements of the his sexuality, but it doesn't concern you. It's fairly common for someone of his age and sex and all that, and besides, it's normal for people's sexual tendencies to be non-reflective of their character otherwise. You have no reason to think of it as anything worth noting, and no negative thoughts cross your mind, other than the soreness and the tendency for bruising. If anything, the whole "gap moe" between the roughness in the heat of the moment and his usual collectedness versus the sheepishness afterwards is rather cute, really, that that's the one thing that such a normally composed person as himself can get easily embarrassed by. It reaches a point where you're more or less used as some kind of stress toy... but you don't mind at all. It does make you feel loved, which is also a critical part of the intent.

But outside of direct expressions of affection, he ensures he's very subtle in his ways. Being outwardly nosy would just irritate you.

Sure, he wonders what you're looking at whenever you stare at your phone screen, but doesn't fall for the urge to lean over and look, you'd probably find that annoying. He just waits until you go to sleep to look through it, checking the times of certain messages being sent, scrolling through conversations each night until reaching the point of the last time he checked, occasionally taking screenshots and sending them to himself before going back and deleting both the messages on your end and the photos themselves.

Likewise, he doesn't linger around when you're talking on the phone trying to have a private conversation or the like, no, he just quietly gets his own phone out, opens the audio recording app, and leaves it in the room while he goes off to do something else, plays it back later when you're not around. He doesn't ask who certain people are and why you interact with them, instead opting to do some digging on his own time, seeing as there's plenty of online information on nearly everyone, or simply networks his way around into finding out more about a certain person.

All very carefully ensuring you don't perceive any clinginess, any obsessiveness or possessiveness. Nothing that would annoy you or turn you off. He manages to never really appear very bothered or curious about anything, and never exhibits any behavior that would ever lead you to even consider the possibility of what is actually happening in reality. You would never think of him as anything but a very healthy partner — in fact, more so than the average person, he doesn't exhibit any of the controlling or intrusive behaviors you hear people complain about in their own partners. You think of him as an exemplary one.

But nonetheless, every now and then, as time goes on, he starts to just barely get this sense that he's too close to reaching a point where things become unbalanced against him. That whole concept he was worried about, where you might feel like he needs you more than you need him -- and while he's fairly certain that's true, he can't have you sensing it. Yes, he's sure you're starting to get bored, to get complacent, and soon you'll probably want something new and more exciting. The fact that he's essentially surrounded by an ocean of competition doesn't help his nerves. He's practically like some poor animal trying to protect its kill from a horde of other predators that would gladly steal it from him the moment he looks away for so much as a second.

But if he's outwardly worried, insecure about it, comes across as desperate or needy, that will only turn you off to him.

So he takes an entirely different approach.

Suddenly, you find that he seems to be oddly absent. You've developed a habit of walking to certain classes together, but suddenly he stops showing up to the regular spot where you meet up. Disappears and is nowhere to be found during your lunch periods. Doesn't send as many texts. When you do see him, he seems absent-minded or distracted, not spending more than a small amount of time before apologizing and claiming to have something needing to be dealt with before disappearing again. Is suddenly unable to spend the night over, claiming to be busy with something. In truth, he's just gone back to watching you from a distance... but you don't know that, of course. And, although it is greatly difficult on his end, he has to even refrain from being as physically affectionate, often standing, keeping his laptop on his lap while working and so on, so you can't lean onto or embrace as easily, and even more painfully, not being able to spend nights over means having to sleep alone without your affectionate snuggles, and having to just jerk off when he could be inside you instead. Sigh... such painful efforts to go to for the sake of security.

It works perfectly. It becomes clear in no time at all that you're a bit hurt by it, which quickly turns into outright concern and insecurity. You get this sad look on your face whenever he "has to" leave, look at the ground. You start to speak in a softer voice when you ask about doing something together later. And, very much to his satisfaction, you stop talking as much to others even compared to when you spent more time with him, opting to sulk by yourself, presumably in too poor of a mood to socialize.

Eventually -- perhaps a bit disappointed and fed up with waiting, as he was really hoping that you would outright address it and ask about his sudden distance, but oh well, perhaps a bit of a push is necessary -- he seems to "realize" how upset you are one afternoon that he (now a rare occurrence) stays with you throughout the day, and you wrap your arms around him, rest your head on his chest.

Ah, I've been neglecting you, haven't I... I've been so busy, I didn't even notice.

You pout, but you nod.

He puts a hand on top of your head. You always seem to like that. Gives you a sort of warm, endeared smile. Ah. Sorry. I'll be more careful. I hope you can forgive me?

He might feel a little bit guilty, sure, but it's also an incredibly satisfying feeling when you nod again. But not so satisfying as what comes after that stage, when he reverts back to suddenly giving you plenty of attention and affection, even apologizing again for the period of neglect, and seeing how happy it makes you. You seem incredibly relieved and ecstatic, you respond more affectionately than you even did before, and perhaps, he can't help but notice, you seem to be even more clingy and desperate to please, as if afraid of losing the closeness again, now that you've regained it.

Next time, it doesn't take you as long to get desperate. Because of course, there is a next time. It's inevitable that the relief and worry wears off just a bit, and he can detect just the slightest subtraction of affection from you as you begin to drift into a "comfortable" state once again. He doesn't like that state. Sure, you're still affectionate, but not as much as he would like. And your affection lacks the sense of neediness and insecurity and clinginess that gives him a sort of exhilarating, ego-boosting high that the "comfortable" levels of affection just doesn't provide. So inevitably, he has to get a bit distant again, although it never takes quite as long as the first time before you get clingy and desperate and you go through the cycle all over again.

Soon you seem to have a constant subconscious level of fear, he doesn't even have to try and distance himself. You'll ask a questions at random that's just an obvious plea for reassurance. You'll check to affirm that you'll be going through the same routine as always the next day where you spend a certain block of time together, followed by a  quiet 'right?' that's dripping with the perfect level of insecurity. Your grip around him when you're lounging around and resting against him is always tighter than it was at the very beginning. You're touchier altogether, often leaning and embracing and nuzzling, whereas in the "comfortable" state you might have been on the other side of the room doing your own thing or the like. You start performing little gestures of affection more often. Whenever you're alone at night in one dorm or the other (increasingly often his, as he's more or less convinced you to spend most nights in a dorm that doesn't have ceiling leaks and enough dust to fill a lung), you tend to be more provocative, and not at all subtly, opting to walk around in underwear and having completely ditched those pajamas you were provided with by the administration when you first arrived. You initiate more often, too, oftentimes just randomly latching on and climbing onto his lap and rolling your hips forward, latching your mouth onto his. You wrap your legs around his waist when you're on your back, rather than just having them spread apart, you latch your arms around him and pull him so close your bodies are pressed together, the noises that come out of your throat sound so much more desperate and needy than before.

A back-and-forth, push-and-pull -- the push that puts distance between you just makes you all that much easier to pull back in, and reaps great rewards from you when he finally does.

It's euphoric. It's perfect. It feels like complete and total control. You're so desperate. Whenever you're clinging and pressed up to him afterwards, he often has to pull your head close up against his chest so you don't see his expression. He knows full well there's a sinister sort of glee to the grin on his face, but for once, even he can't refrain.

Well, it's almost perfect. Everything with you is perfect, but there are obstacles that remain preventing everything from being perfect. And at this point, they might as well be dealt with.

Despite all your clinginess and the effectiveness, there are still assigned times for classes and extracurricular responsibilities (which he temporarily thought about abandoning, but that would come off as a bit too needy) that require you to be apart. And during that time, as he's learned from having "accidentally" put his phone in your bag and recording the whole time a few times, he knows what you're doing. Identifies the voices of those you talk to, and can't help but notice that not only are they the same people consistently, but there's one in particular that makes those violent urges flare up again. Hell, he snapped a pencil in half by accident just while listening to the playback.

No matter. He'll just have to resort to his Plan B. It wasn't his first choice, seeing as there are potential complications, but he has no real reservations. He can't put a rift between you and Kalim, unfortunately, as that would likely just become problematic for himself later down the road... he'll have to work with just keeping you two apart, whenever he can't be right there. That's the only real way to deal with that problem.

Besides, he's only a genuine issue during one specific time slot. The schedules of various students aren't always consistent day to day. Some lectures are longer, labs tend to be shorter, so on and so on, people have different time gaps, some students even eat lunch at different times depending on the day of the week.

You have one particular gap of time where you have no classes, but he does. It's not too big of a deal, seeing as you usually just go over to the Scarabia dorm these days and talk to some of the others anyway... but therein lies the issue for him.

On one of those days, you're a few minutes later than usual, as he left his pen sitting on the desk in the last class, and you went back with him just to keep talking, opting to take the extra minute or so to stay together, as it wouldn't be more than a minute or two delay. With the majority of the throng of students already rushed to their next destination, the halls are empty as you reach the spot where you usually part ways until meeting up again later in the day. But as you say something about seeing him later—

Oh, before you go, one more thing.

You pause. You turn your head back around to look at him.

Hm?

...You jolt at the sudden commotion, snapping out of a daze. That big clocktower bell ringing off in the distance at the middle of the campus, followed by the loud sounds of dozens of students' chattering and footsteps as they head on to another class.

Oh, the period is already over.

...Wait, what...?

Your head throbs. You feel dizzy, disoriented. For a brief moment, your surroundings seem to spin around you, until you shake your head in an attempt to clear it, and the feeling seems to go away. But you're not in the spot you were in what seems seconds ago, instead sitting down at a desk. There's a tingly, fuzzy feeling in your head.

Oh, right. You opted to take some time for yourself this time around in an empty classroom because—

...because...?

Right. The book on the desk is open. You were studying. You seem to recall some of the information retained, even if you were sort of spaced out for the duration of the studying itself, everything for the last little while feels like a blur. Was there a test or something coming up? There isn't one today, but you must have remembered to study for a reason. Your mind was preoccupied, one of those moments where you realize you've been spacing out for a long time, so lost in thought that you don't really remember the words your eyes have been scanning over, nor your own actions.

More importantly, you remember talking just before you were about to head off, Jamil was going to tell you something important, but admittedly, you can't remember what he said. You feel sort of bad about it. You just hope it wasn't something too important, like something you were supposed to go pick up or something like that... you're sure to ask later, and apologize for spacing out while you're at it. But it must have been no big deal, based on his own words.

Tell you the truth, I don't recall either... ah, it's been a long day. I'm sure it wasn't important.

You end up making a habit of it. You find yourself ending up in the same spot on that day each week, like clockwork, without even thinking about it. You're pretty sure you gravitate towards doing so out of a need for a brief rest to rejuvenate your energy for the day.

...But it does feel strange. The first time, you dismissed it as just spacing out, and the second time as well, but you keep noticing you follow the pattern without intending to. On the third week, you very specifically told yourself you wouldn't be sitting out today like you had the past two weeks, since you felt plenty energetic and missed talking to Kalim and the others you usually spend that time with... yet found yourself ending up there anyway. Your head always feels fuzzy when you seem to recuperate your energy and alertness. You mentioned it to Jamil once, and he merely told you to just stay consciously aware and not drift off into thought right before that time period... and it did work, at least that one following week. Then it went right back to the other habit, and from then on, you find yourself alternating, sometimes going to be with friends, but quite often ending up by yourself, completely lost in a blank state of mind. You feel dizzy, disoriented. Each time, it feels like there's some sort of gap in your consciousness, like waking up from a dream.

It's not the only sudden onset of odd occurrences, either.

The first occasion of the other occurrence leaves you entirely bewildered. You did notice that one of your friends seemed to avoid you for a few days in a row, but you figured he was just busy, so you're caught off-guard when he comes up to you looking down, apologetic expression on his face.

Hey, I just wanted to apologize again for the other day... I don't know what I did, but I'm really sorry if I upset you...

You find yourself in a confused stupor for a few moments, unsure of what is even being addressed. After a moment, your following questioning prompts the boy to elaborate on how you exploded out of nowhere... I figured you must have been really mad at me for something... followed by a brief recollection of some choice unkind things you apparently came up to him to say out of the blue, and another apology. You stammer something about how it was fine, you don't even remember any of that, you're not mad at all... you must have been mentally preoccupied and just blurted out something without thinking, or so is the best explanation you can conjure.

You don't think too much of it, though, until virtually the exact same thing happens again. Another person coming up to you, asking if they did something wrong followed by a claim that you released some sudden angry outburst seemingly at random and didn't provide explanation. You try to reassure them of the same thing as you told the first, making note to yourself to be more consciously aware of yourself. The only thing you can really think of that makes any sense would be your initial conclusion... or, perhaps, it does strike you for a brief moment that they're just messing with you, but the sincerity and slight hurt in their faces and voices makes you second-guess that idea. You must have actually said those things and had such outbursts, even if you don't recall, seeing as multiple people are making the same claims.

It doesn't take long for the matter to get worse. Soon, you find that when you come up to the same friends, smiling as you approach to initiate conversation, they merely narrow their eyes, huff and glare, turn the other way, sometimes walk off. You must have done something to upset them, or perhaps they're still upset about the outburst you apparently had...? You try to ask, but you get nothing but glares, harsh words telling you to just leave me alone or similar dismissals. To make matters worse, you're questioned by others as well -- what did they do to deserve that?, but everyone seems to think you should know what you did, and never elaborate.

You're bewildered. It feels like being an outside observer to some sort of mass delusion. You have absolutely no recall of doing anything that would upset anyone.

You even considered the notion of it being some sort of large-scale prank wherein you'd later be told they were all just kidding and trying to confuse you, but as time passes it becomes clear it was serious. That being said, you know you didn't do anything, your mind can only think of a few other possibilities. Why would people lie to you?

It's as confusing as it is hurtful. You didn't actually do anything to anyone to deserve this... the fact that multiple people would be needlessly cruel for no reason feels unfair and painful, although you suppose it's not at all unheard of, school environments are known to generate some of the worst people. You hope it will pass.

At least you still have some solace. Yes, really, the timing was at least as good as it could have been, seeing as now, you have someone you know will believe you and think the best of you no matter what, and will give you the comfort and reassurance you need. After some prompting about how downtrodden and melancholy you seem, you do finally open up about it.

Jamil doesn't seem particularly concerned about the matter, though. He shrugs it off, dismisses your concerns, although you do sense that he's trying to make you feel better. He dismisses the idea of it being some sort of conspired ordeal, says that's just being paranoid, but the alternative he suggests does seem helpful -- that you did indeed do what you were told you did, but with reason.

Perhaps you're under excessive stress. That would put anyone in a poor mood, and you may be too preoccupied to really recall the occurrence... or, it's likely that those individuals draw negative emotions out of you. You shouldn't spend time around people that make you feel poorly.

And then, after a pause, he adds,

Besides, you've never been anything less than kind towards me. That would suggest others are the issue, not yourself.

You appreciate the input, but the situation still certainly bothers you. It's not only your friends, either, that start to behave unfairly and even cruelly towards you. You would not have thought yourself to be someone who would be targeted for any malice, as you've tried to be nice and considerate and have never done anything you can recall that would have made you an enemy to random people.

You're completely caught off-guard, then, when some people seem to begin treating you as such at complete random. People you don't know very well, or have even never interacted with. You were sitting in a classroom when someone walked in, grabbed your things and ran off with them before you could take it back out of their grasp. And then, within days of that incident, someone comes out from the shadow of the side hall as you're walking, shoves you so hard you fall face-first to the ground, and runs off before you can identify them. Then, you leave your bag sitting down for a few minutes during a break, only to find someone, be it out of malice or carelessness, must have hit your bag with some heavy object, seeing as the laptop the school provided you with is smashed, forcing you to get a new one after profusely apologizing. It gets worse and worse, people coming up to you just for some cruel act or another, and now you don't even have friends to defend you... they only seem to bother you when Jamil isn't around either. You imagine that's because they know better than to provoke him, maybe.

You stay quiet about it for a while. Wouldn't want to burden him with such a thing, and you hope that it will pass... even at prompting, you merely mumble that you're fine, that you're just tired, that nothing is wrong. To say you're being bullied or anything of the sort would feel childish. It's just people being jerks, surely they'll move on and mess with someone else. Telling him would just upset him for your sake, and then you'd feel like you were overreacting, blowing it out of proportion. It's just rudeness that everyone will deal with from someone at some point. You're not even sure who a lot of them are, though... it's almost always, for whatever reason, students you're pretty sure you've never even interacted with, as if intentionally doing so in order to ensure you won't know their names or faces and can't confront them or report them.

Although it gets harder to handle, the longer it goes on. Getting tripped, shoved around, stolen from, even a few times getting things thrown at you... you find yourself becoming quieter, increasingly tired and depressed. It wears you down, emotionally and psychologically. You're always paranoid someone will come up to you and do something. You start to shut yourself in. You take longer to reply to the friends you have left. You start leaving earlier, when you usually hang out with them... even then, several of your friends no longer seem to want to hang around you anyway. It hurts.

And eventually, it becomes too much for you to keep trying.

It's almost startling when Jamil comes back to his own dorm room one day, for you to already be there. He's usually the first one back, while you spend an indefinite amount of time with friends and never come back at a consistent time, so he's caught off-guard to find you already back in the room. Curled up in bed, chest rising and falling with slow, heavy breaths. Your eyes seem a bit puffy, swollen, the flesh around your eyes reddened.

Poor thing. Yes, he did account for the fact that you'd inevitably get your feelings hurt from the acts, and when you started finding yourself all alone, but he does still feel bad, seeing you so upset. In fact, the realization that someone else caused this -- because it was, after all, someone else who actually committed the cruel acts, who did mean things to you, and thereby they are the ones responsible -- he has to swallow the subsequent feeling of sudden rage down. It's a necessary consequence.

The guilt doesn't last for too long. He climbs into bed over you, lays by your side, wraps an arm around you... he's not sure if it's a subconscious action in your sleep, or if you stir for just a moment, but regardless, you suddenly grunt as you turn over to face him instead, instinctively snuggling up close to the warmth, nuzzling your face against his chest. Your hands latch onto his undershirt, fingers curling to secure their place before you return to the soft little breaths, lulled back to deep sleep by the steady heartbeat against your face.

When you wake up, he's sure you'll be at a breaking point, you'll finally break down and talk about how mean and cruel people have been to you lately... and then he can assure you that it'll all be fine, leave for a while and come back, tell you they won't be bothering you anymore because he took care of it, but you should probably not go off on your own again anyway... yes, that will work. That should go over very smoothly, given all the steps that have been taken to ensure it.

And then... that will be everything. All the little obstacles, all either out of the way entirely, or well within the realm of being manageable.

Yes, with that, that momentary, miniscule guilt dissipates, replaced by a swelling, euphoric feeling of satisfaction and smug pride. Everything worked out exactly as it should. He runs his hand over the back of your head in slow, soft motions.

If it all really is some sort of social game, then this must be what it feels like to have won. He couldn't be happier with that outcome.

[reality-detective]

10 wise lessons from Rumi to deepen your self-awareness

1) “The wound is the place where the Light enters you.”

My take on this profound quote, which happens to be one of my favorites, is that when you’re in pain, you’re also in a position to heal and change. And by pain, it doesn’t necessarily mean physical pain. But rather emotional and mental. 

Rather than focus on the negatives of the situation, Rumi is suggesting that through the turmoil and disruption, there’s also an opportunity for growth – growth being the “light” that enters you. 

2) “Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.”

As we get older, I think most of us build walls of some sort. Perhaps we’ve been hurt in the past and we’re now reluctant to go through the same painful experience again.

But a part of self-awareness is recognizing these barriers we build and continuously trying to break them down. 

If we don’t, we could miss out on beautiful relationships with others. In other words, our fear can hold us back.

So, rather than keep searching for love, as Rumi suggests, why not search within, break down those walls, and allow the right love to find you? 

This would lead to much more authentic, meaningful relationships. 

3) “Yesterday I was clever so I wanted to change the world, today I am wise, so I am changing myself.”

Probably one of the most famous Rumi quotes out there, and for good reason. 

It’s easy to judge the rest of the world. It’s easy to think that we’d do better if we were in charge.

But what many people overlook is this simple fact: If you can’t change yourself, how on earth are you going to change the world? 

I believe that Rumi is encouraging us to focus on our own behavior first before pointing the finger at others. 

As a collective, if we each made positive changes starting with ourselves, this would undoubtedly change the rest of the world as a result. 

4) “The inspiration you seek is already within you. Be silent and listen.”

Right now, there are hundreds if not thousands of life coaches out there, ready to help you find your purpose. There are millions of motivational videos on YouTube. 

We’re surrounded by the opinions of others all the time.

But according to Rumi, you don’t need any of this. 

By being self-aware and focussing inwards rather than outwards, you can find what brings you fulfillment and joy in life. 

You just need to quieten the world around you and listen to your soul. 

5) “Don’t be satisfied with stories, how things have gone with others. Unfold your own myth.”

In other words, stop comparing yourself to others. Stop paying so much attention to what others do. Stop living through the stories of people around you. 

Start creating your own story. 

You see, when you expand the depths of your self-awareness and choose your own path in life, you’re writing your own legacy. 

A legacy that actually means something to you. 

6) “The universe is not outside of you. Look inside yourself, everything that you want you already are.”

One thing that echoes in Rumi’s wisdom is the idea that each of us has a universe within us. 

He often encourages us to stop searching for answers externally and instead, turn our focus inwards. 

I’ve personally found his teachings profoundly helpful, especially on my journey into self-awareness. 

Through Rumi, I stopped following gurus and influencers, each promoting their own methods and practices. 

What I found was that my intuition is the best guide for me. 

After all, we each have different needs. We’re all on different journeys. 

A guru can help you up until a point, but only you, looking within, can find the answers you crave. 

7) “These pains you feel are messengers, listen to them.”

When becoming self-aware, you will undoubtedly have to face ugly truths about yourself. 

Trauma. Toxic habits. Limiting beliefs. 

These are the pains Rumi talks about. 

When you feel a blockage, or a part of yourself that holds you back, don’t ignore it. Pay attention – this is where your healing begins. 

So as you can see, his quote isn’t just about broken legs or back pain (although you should still listen to your body when it tells you it needs a break) but about healing those inner wounds. 

8) “The world is a mountain. Whatever you say, it will echo it back to you.”

On your self-awareness journey, you’ll probably start to delve more into understanding your mindset.

I noticed that I can be quite a negative person. Although I portrayed myself as positive and happy, inwards I had a horrible inner-critic. 

But as Rumi reminds us, we are what we think. The world around us is just a reflection of our thoughts. 

If you think negatively, you’ll see negativity everywhere. 

But when you adopt a positive mindset, suddenly, the world throws positivity right back at you. 

9) “There is a voice that doesn’t use words. Listen.”

The voice that doesn’t use words is your intuition. I’d like to also share this quote by Rumi: 

“The quieter you become, the more you are able to hear.”

I think supports the notion that the less you speak and listen to others, the stronger your intuition becomes, something most people don’t realize.

The truth is, intuition can be honed and heightened. 

But in order to do that, we need to start listening and trusting it. 

In your self-awareness journey, you can practice this. Start with little decisions. Try to avoid asking other people for advice, or googling suggestions. 

Instead, sit quietly with yourself and let your inner voice guide you. 

10) “Do not worry that your life is turning upside down. How do you know the side you are used to is better than the one to come?”

And finally, self-awareness leads to change. 

It brings up things that might be uncomfortable to face. Life decisions that don’t serve us. 

Mindsets that limit us. 

It’s easy to want to bury your head in the sand and avoid confronting these truths. But as Rumi says, how do you know that the other side will be worse?

If you face these areas of yourself head-on, who knows how amazing the change might be for your life?

I personally feel that with this teaching, Rumi is encouraging us to approach self-awareness with curiosity instead of fear. 

Keep an open mind. Don’t reject change. 

The unknown is always a bit scary, but we may find a wealth of new opportunities when we venture into it. 

Final thoughts:

To be honest, I could go on as Rumi’s wisdom is infinite and we’re fortunate to have so many of his teachings preserved. 

But these 10 quotes are enough to help you approach self-awareness in a more simple, soul-centered way. 

As Rumi emphasizes, less talking and more listening is the way to reach whatever form of enlightenment we’re each searching for.

If you need more guidance? 👇

To get through my Dark Knight of the Soul I used the following website which is filled with many articles.

Using the search bar, search for: 👇

• Soul Work

• Shadow Work

• Dark Knight of the Soul

You will find many topics that I am certain will resonate with pretty much everyone. 🤔

May The Spiritual Force Be With You💫

[salubriwrites-blog]

The Drunk Tank Sequel

Someone asked me if I'd ever put a sequel together for one of my rarer paired ships, Kayn and Hwei.

tl;dr I'm using this story to explore dynamic and different relationships within Heartsteel, and making Hwei the emotionally stable one for once who tries to help someone else overcome their own demons.

I decided to do so, I'm writing it passively so I don't really have intention of dropping this and making it a whole series, but I'll probably give it another 2 chapters. I wanted to use it as an opportunity to explore different relationship dynamics that I didn't get to explore in my other Heartsteel fictions (Paranoia: Off Script, Dances with Devils, As You Are).

Also I'm just a whore and will ship Hwei with LITERALLY ANYONE. He deserves people who will help him unlearn his trauma.

Drunk Tank started as a funny throw away back story that came up in Dances with Devils, where Hwei and Kayn have a vague history that neither of them disclosed to the rest of Heartsteel. It was this relationship that helped Hwei find the confidence to escape his toxic and abusive relationship with Jhin (sorry JhinHwei shippers, sorta). The two characters finally come sort of clean about how they met, which was they ended up in the same drunk tank, made out and made the other drunks uncomfortable, and the police had to literally rip them off each other, erections bulging from their pants the whole time.

It was very degenerate, very horny, and dark, given the tone of Dances with Devils. I decided that in Drunk Tank I'd make it a little bit cuter. Hwei has never been arrested before (goody two shoes) but after a birthday party trip to a strip club goes wrong, he gets arrested for public intoxciation and thrown into a drunk tank to sleep it off for the night.

Drunk tanks are basically just rooms where people who's only crime is public intoxication get chucked to sleep off the alcohol. I've personally never been in one, so I decided to have fun with it. It has a Wild West vibe to it, Hwei is freaked out cause he's dressed like a slut, is very obviously gay, and is surrounded by all these gruff ass men who stink like tequila and toxic masculinity.

Then there's Kayn.

They gravitate toward each other because they are the odd men out in this room, but chemistry is only present because of alcohol.

Kayn's an asshole in this story. Spoiler (but also not).

I know I just said that I like shipping characters with Hwei that help him overcome his baggage, but I decided that in this story I wanted Hwei to be the put together one. He's stable, he knows who he is, knows what he wants. This version of Hwei is going to be confident and aware of his own boundaries, but is also perceptive of potential toxic traits in other characters.

Kayn's an asshole who is used to taking. More on that... later. But Kayn's relationships with the members of Heartsteel is going to be dynamic and may risk hurting Hwei if the Visionary allows himself to get drawn in. Ezreal and Kayn dated (for how long idk yet) and their relationship is... weird. They say that it was mutual, and they have good chemistry on stage and in the sound booth, but they are on shaky ground.

This version of Ezreal is catty as hell, and part of him doesn't want Kayn to have anything nice. Which is why he is rude to Hwei in the above. I don't have the finer details of Kayn and Ez's relationship ending hammered out - but it had something to do with Kayn taking.

I kinda like tumblr wtf, I always thought of having a place to just yeet all my thoughts and processes. If you read this far, thank you for doing so, and I hope to update you more on this story (and my others).

[truthunmaskedbymema]

Module 5: Me, Myself, and Others: Development of Values, Principles, and Ideologies, Love, Attraction, Risk-taking Behavior,  and Peer Influences

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - •❃°•°❀°•°❃• - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

Have you ever wondered how our interactions with the people closest to us shape our journey of self-discovery? Have you felt that mood of self-satisfaction every time you are together with somebody important to you? It probably sent me butterflies in my stomach (cliché, but it is true), and the calmness I got from it helped me reach where I am now.

We come across a wide range of experiences and interactions as we make our way through the complex web of relationships, experiences, and interactions that have the power to change how we view ourselves. With their everlasting love and support, our families serve as the cornerstone of our identities. Our friends push us to accept vulnerability and heighten our self-awareness through their shared joys and tragedies. And those with whom we have formed close bonds provide an insight into the depths of our emotions, desires, and frailties, leaving a lasting impression on our quest for self-discovery.

These encounters exist as mirrors, reflecting elements of ourselves that may have been concealed or disregarded. We get a deeper understanding of our values, beliefs, strengths, and limitations due to the pleasures and difficulties, dialogues, and disputes in our lives. We see how we affect others and learn more about moving through the environment.

Writing a letter to someone once essential in my life made me realize I had learned much from him. It taught me what qualities I am willing to accept and what part of me should be changed. I did not consider farewells dramatic and emotional; they are gates to opportunities that will guide me to a journey full of excitement and lessons I can apply.

A topic that interests me in this module is the discussion of Filipino values and how it applies in real life. These values, which have a strong foundation in history, religion, and social dynamics, significantly impact how people interact and society functions. One example is the “bahala na,” which talks about Filipino’s sense of resilience, adaptability, and faith in uncertain circumstances. Though it sounded somewhat wrong, it can act as a double-edged sword where it can be on the positive outlook of things and resourcefulness. Still, it can also make you feel cautionary since one can make a mistake while making decisions, and it can affect the overall result.

This module made me more appreciative of my parents that what they taught me was enough to let me live independently and make my own decisions. I am thankful enough for them being so accepting and supportive. It shows that Filipinos value their families since they serve as a foundation of love, support, and guidance toward Filipino identity. Their love is enough for me to feel a sense of belonging.

Notice that my family has no recent pictures since my father hasn’t go back to PH for many years because of work😬

These interactions challenge, inspire, and help us become the unique people we are. They are like threads sewn carefully into the fabric of our life. They are a constant reminder of our interdependence, shared humanity, and enormous influence on one another.

I am happy to have these influences surrounding me since they also helped me discover my limitations in life and cherish these connections that will help me know myself better. We continue to reveal the many layers of our being through love, laughter, tears, and lessons learned, paving the way to greater self-acceptance, authenticity, and contentment.

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - •❃°•°❀°•°❃• - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

[summer04rayne]

Kinnporsche the series episode 5 rumble (part 2)

And that's when...

3. Vegas - Porsche dynamic

... comes in.

I think we can all agree, (at least the ones who haven't read the novel like me) we thought that this scene was soft.

It was just honestly too good to be true, everything about this scene seemed too good. Is Vegas an amazing actor? Probably yes, he made us forget in a matter of seconds that he was the one who almost s**ually harassed Porsche just the night before, and that is something to be really scared of, but I'm not going too deep into speculations.

All theories aside, no matter how weird you can think this scene is, Porsche actually needed that, in that specific moment, he just needed someone to chat with, laugh with and hug. That's it. It's just unfortunate that this person turns out to be someone who probably is going to hurt Porsche, in the episodes that come.

We saw in the last episode how Vegas took an interest in Porsche, we do not exactly knox why yet, but this does not seems like a very friendly reason.

And now he has the opportunity to get close with Porsche, not just because he got friendly with him, but also because Porsche now has a grudge on Kinn, in Vegas's advantage, obviously.

I'm actually excited to see how this dynamic turns out!

Last but not least.

4. My opinion on Porsche.

Porsche is actually an amazing bodyguard, and it took me 5 episodes to prove that.

For Porsche to notice something, and that something are kidnappers, and Kinn didn't, is actually impressive. Kinn is literally the most aware person ever, but I guess that when he's with Porsche, he loses focus, and when he does, Porsche the bodyguard is for the rescue.

In the past couple episodes, we saw how Porsche was being immature and not taking his job seriously. He actually wasn't aware of the consequences of his actions. And now that he is (getting drugged ect) he is more serious, and acts like who's he's supposed to be, and not who he wants to be.

Porsche was waiting for a concrete reaction to fulfill his ego, he's in desparate need of attention and being the favorite. I don't think it's a bad thing, it's just who Porsche is, like I said, he loves to be loved, to be surrounded, to be The One.

I don't think he was waiting to be kissed (like many think) but just for Kinn to loose a bit his temper, to feel Kinn's regret in any form, to see Kinn loose himself, like he did to him.

"Go on, do what you have to do, if you care about me that much" was probably what he was thinking at that moment. "now that you think you have power over me, and that my life is yours, prove me that you can actually do something to me". He knows he got some power over Kinn, he just wants him to admit it. But unfortunately it did not turn out this way, for now :)

The bisexual lighting.

Cr. @liyazaki

In film directions ethics, some kind of color pallets represent some themes.

I know that Porsche's sexuality is an open subject for now, and is probably going to stay open, as a non label thing, which very much respected. But I can't help but think that Porsche is under a lot of the "bisexual lighting".

It is a mixture of blue, pink and purple lights that reflects on the character, a subtle way of declaring their sexuality, especially if the character is open about it and has given some hints to it.

I honestly don't want to go on on this subject, mainly because I think that Porsche's sexuality is a personal matter that is still very new to speculate about, but I love the direction of this show and I noticed that a lot of unsaid stuff are being showed in the direction / lights ect for the viewers to deduct, which what I love a lot about this show.

Cr. To @uwemagain @patovpran @coldties <3

Anyway, thanks again for reading this, I'm impatiently waiting for next week's episode!!!

[weepingvoidpenguin]

One of Your Favorites

Jealous Bucky x Reader

Summary: You have an objective. Get Rumlow to confess. Simple enough, right? No. Aside from his usual condescending attitude towards you, Bucky has made it extremely apparent that he doesn’t think you’re capable of - well, anything, but especially not handling Rumlow. And yet, he is the biggest challenge of this entire ordeal.

Warning: T R I G G E R WARNING!! ATTEMPTED SA, DRUGS, language, light smut. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DO NOT READ IF SA WILL TRIGGER YOU. 

Word Count: 8.3k

   “We have good intel stating he’s working as a double agent for HYDRA. Selling information, exploiting tactics, even going so far as to tell them where we’ll be and when.” Natasha scanned the room, making sure she had everyone’s attention during the briefing. 

   You slouched back in your swivel chair and twisted to-and-fro slightly with your hands gripping the arm rests on either side. It took all of your willpower to act engrossed in her words. And you meant every single drop. You’d been paying attention, sure, but the only issue was the dominating presence two seats to your right and directly in your line of sight to Natasha. You rolled your chair to the left to clear the path for the third time, only for him to block your way without missing a beat. The growl that left your mouth was nearly involuntary. Nearly.

   How long would this man act like a child? Despite his graceful and seemingly unsuspecting movements, you were fully aware his placement was intentional. This was not the first, nor did you doubt that it would be the last, time that Bucky acted impudently toward you. Frankly, you’d grown bored of his behavior. It was the same thing everyday. He would act a nuisance during the briefings, speak over you whenever he had the chance, steal the limelight from you and invalidate any concerns or thoughts you shared. The whole charade grew tiring and he had been dancing on thin ice for months now.

   You averted your gaze from burning holes through the freshly washed, brown locks and switched your attention back up to the redhead. Thankfully, too, because you managed to catch the end of her sentence just as she locked eyes with you.

   “And that’s why Y/N is going to be the one to extract the information from him,” she finished.

   You blinked, “Wait, what?” 

   Bucky straightened his posture and threw a quick glance your way, “Yeah, what? She’s got no heat, couldn’t toast marshmallows if we gave her all day. She shouldn’t lead this, she wouldn’t know how,”

   “Well, tonight might be a good time to start learning, then,” Steve chimed in, throwing a wink your way. You smiled and appreciated his aid, not because you needed it but because at this point, you were seething and if you opened your mouth to defend yourself this meeting would go south, quickly. Luckily, Steve always believed you were capable of a great deal of things and knew you strove for more experience so any opportunity to lead or expand was one he thought you should take. 

   “Besides,” Tony spoke up, twirling a platinum pen between his fingers from across the table, “our little double-agent has always had the hots for Y/N so unless you’re gonna be the one to bat your eyelashes at him and get him alone in a room, Mr. Barnes, we have to use his own flaws against him.” He turned to face you and held up a hand, “Not to say that liking you is a flaw, you’re great Hot-Stuff but exploiting him is our best option indefinitely,”

   “Do I have to seduce him?” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest and raising a brow towards Nat, trying your damned hardest to avoid the unmistakable glare the brown-haired super soldier was sending your way. 

   “The only thing you have to do is extract any information on him that you can. Get him a little drunk, catch him in a slip-up or two, take note of any inconsistent stories and be on your merry way,” she reassured, “How you manage to do that is up to you,”

   “Ooh, extortion,” Clint chirped up from the far back corner, his hands rubbing together maliciously around an arrow he pulled from his sheathe, something you noticed he did a lot when he was uninterested; be it a person, mission, or conversation.

   “No. Not extortion,” Steve shut it down and you chuckled at how Clint’s countenance fell into one of disappointment. 

   “Not yet anyway,” Natasha mumbled and you sighed as she walked around the room and handed each of you a folder with your individual objectives inside.

   “But he’s such a pervert,” you grumbled.

   “All the easier,” 

~

   The rest of the day was drudged with Nat while she taught the pertinence of body language (both yours and theirs), verbal ruses, and overall ensnarement. You bat your eyelashes until you were certain you would catch enough wind to fly away, smirked enough that your cheeks began to ache and raised your eyebrows ‘til you felt the impending wrinkles on your forehead. By the end of the drill you weren’t sure you were even going to make it to the company party from the migraine creeping its way on.

   “How’s the bait coming along?” His voice alone caused you to roll your eyes but you paid no mind while you rubbed at your temples and stood up alongside Natasha.

   “She’s not gonna be able to lie to me any time soon but she can flirt her way to whatever she wants,”

   “Benefits of targeting a narcissistic misogynist, they don’t think anyone can fool them.” Tony belted as he sauntered into the room with strawberries, offering them out to you while he munched on one.

   “She’ll still mess it up,” Bucky countered, “Make someone else do it,”

   You plucked the fruit off Tony’s tray and examined it, trying to figure out whether you were going to consume it or use it as a weapon.

   “I really appreciate your words of encouragement, James. Unfortunately, they’re not wanted, nor are they needed.” You bit into the fruit and glided towards the door, looking over your shoulder at the super soldier, “So unless you actually have something to contribute, I suggest you stay the hell out of my way while I get the job done,”

   Nat walked out behind you and handed you a tiny, skin-colored device meant to conceal itself and you placed it in your ear. 

   “The conversation is gonna be recorded so we can catch any inconsistencies. We’ll all be able to hear what you’re saying so tread on delicate waters but don’t be afraid to shake mountains if you have to,”

   You nodded and opened your door for her to enter your room knowing she’d want to help you get ready for the event. Natasha, shocking as it turns out, enjoys company while preparing for events. She would much prefer to be surrounded by people than be alone. You never had gall to ask her why that is. Or maybe you respected her too much to ask.

   An hour had passed, maybe two, but you enjoyed the silence between you both. There was no need to fill the empty quiet when it was so comfortable and welcoming. You two spoke without words at times and that was probably your favorite personal skill. Eventually, there came a knock on your door and you opened to find Wanda with her flat iron and make-up bag in tow. It’d long since been decided that your room was the gathering center.

   Wanda helped you finish touching up your outfit and you waited on your bed while they finished getting ready. Nat occasionally quizzed you on certain situations and how you should act depending on the tones and moods of the conversation. You tried to explain that you didn’t have difficulty reading a room but Nat tested you all the same. 

   “And if he puts his hand on your thigh?” She called out from your bathroom.

   “Then he loses it,” you practically sang in response.

   You were met with a flying hairbrush and laughed at the onslaught.

   “You’re not the only one with that mentality,” Wanda called out as well, her iron glossing over thin strands of hair.

   “Nat knows I can handle myself.” You sat up on the bed and went over to your closet to collect your favorite pair of shoes to go along with the formal attire Nat selected for tonight. “What a coincidence that we happen to have a company party the same night we have to extract information,” you hollered over your shoulder, moving aside terribly worn shoes while you scoured for the pair you had in mind.

   “This objective has been in the works for weeks now,” Nat released the tendril of hair from around the barrel and pinned it to her head so it could cool.

   “Wow, thanks for the heads up, then.” You gripped the desired pair and placed them beside your nightstand for later.

   “The plan wasn’t solid until we knew for a fact that Rumlow was coming. It’s a company party so it’s not mandatory but once he heard you were making an appearance, it didn’t take very much persuading,”

   You rolled your eyes and plopped back down on your mattress, “He’s so annoying, I doubt I can hold much of a conversation with him,”

   “Take a shot or two to ease your nerves, if he sees you drinking it’ll put him at ease too. He’ll be more inclined to drink,” Natasha recommended. “But don’t act too out of character. If you were always curt and short with him and suddenly you start acting over-friendly, he may get suspicious. He’s an idiot but he’s a paranoid one,”

   You nodded, taking a mental note to have a half-empty bottle in your grasp when Rumlow arrives. If he thinks you’ve already been drinking, he might also consider catching up. 

   “Y/N? Not uptight for once?” Wanda sarcastically questioned. “I can’t picture it,”

   “Oh, fuck off,” you grumbled and in turn received laughter from the two girls. “Besides, of all of us I’m by far the least uptight. Barnes takes the cake for that one,”

   There was a beat of silence that you didn’t register before you were met with a response.

   “Ya know, he’s not as bad as you paint him out to be.” Nat unpinned the curl from her head and moved on to the next section, “He’s got some serious loyalty and always willing to volunteer first for everything,”

   You lifted your head to stare at her reflection through the mirror, “What are you talking about? He’s annoying and irate and lacks a filter,”

   “Mmm, irate isn’t the word I would use,” Wanda countered, looking over to Natasha.

   Nat shook her head in response, “I’d lean more towards . . . over-protective,” 

  “Much better,” Wanda agreed.

   You squinted your eyes at their image and felt the corners of your lips turn downwards, “Over-protective? Since when are you two defending Barnes?”

   “We’re not defending him, per say.” Wanda glanced over to Nat, “We’re just trying to give you a fresh perspective,” 

   “You could give me a brand new pair of eyes and I’d still see him the same,” you retorted, now leaning on your elbows due to the strain on your neck. 

   They ignored the comment, “And he’s only annoying to you,”

   “You’re telling me he doesn’t annoy you at all?” You asked, an eyebrow raised.

   “More like . . . he doesn’t go out of his way to mess with us.” Nat applied a nude color onto her lips.

   “So you agree that he goes out of his way to irritate me,” you stated rather than asked.

   “That’s been made very apparent,” Wanda responded. “But you have to wonder why,”

   You huffed a little and sprawled back out on the bed just to result in staring at the ceiling above. If you looked hard enough your mind would create pictures from the chaos of the cracks and shapes began to form. Sometimes, when the night lay still and life seemed to dwindle at the edges of your reality, you could swear a familiar face fashioned together and your imagination ran wild with the images you’d see. Some that brought a warmth to your cheeks even now. 

   You shot up out of bed and shook the memories from your vision. Ugh. He haunts you even when he’s not actively tormenting you. How he’s managed to crawl his way so deeply within your skin you had no idea but you fought for control of your thoughts whenever you caught them slipping into that hellhole.

   “Or slipping into euphoria,” Wanda chimed in.

   “Wanda!” You scolded, crossing your arms, “Euphoria my ass,”

   “Yeah, he thinks so too,” she continued and you chucked the abandoned hairbrush back their way. 

   “Stay out of my head,” you jokingly sniped at her but was met with a low chuckle.

   “I didn’t even have to be in your head to know what you were thinking of,” Nat defended and caught your weapon of choice.

   “Are you guys done yet?” You rolled your eyes and stretched yourself out before swiping up the pair of heels you’d chosen and sliding them onto your feet.

   “Why? Are you in a hurry to see a certain someone?” Natasha teased and Wanda let out an eruption of laughter.

   “All right, I’m done.” You made a beeline for the door and threw it open, “Lock up when you’re finished!” You bellowed over your shoulder and made your way to the top floor of the building where all the parties are typically held.

   You didn’t run into anyone on the way up and you used that time to calm yourself, prying inch by inch away from the invasive thoughts that called for you in the darkest hours of the night. But, then again, maybe those tormenting thoughts weren’t that bad? You mean, he certainly IS handsome, very much so actually. And he has the most knee-wobbling smirk you’d ever come to know, not to mention those little tricks he does with his knives always manage to entrance you. God, did he know how to use a knife. 

   On more than one occasion had you caught yourself staring at how his hands encapsulated the hilt of the blade. How they clenched and relaxed, drawing out some of the more prominent veins on one of the extremities; of course, you were even more so enticed by the hand he hid as well. You’d imagined what it felt like to have such strong hands grip onto your thighs and coax you into spreading them open with just a few teasing touches here and there. You couldn’t fathom the front you’d put up would last very long, he was stellar at pulling reactions from you. He’d see you break under his caresses and he’d degrade you like he always did but this time it’d emit a different response from you, one that made you whimper and shake. At that, he’d probably call you a good girl, he definitely seems the type to switch between degradation and praise, and would press his mouth up just where you wanted it the most. You’d try your hardest to be quiet but damn the way that tongue moved against you and the way he’d pull you harder against his face at each sound of pleasure you let slip past your lips. He’d enjoy it, too. Eyes closed as he devours you, he likes to put on a show for you to watch. Give you a memory that’ll slick your thighs later that night if he hadn’t fucked you into a coma by then. He’d make you watch him and if you dared to close your eyes you’d earn a firm, cold smack on your ass. He knows you like when he uses temperature play. He growls a little too, he can’t help his innate behavior. Then, just as the accumulation is coming to its apex he’d pull away abruptly and kiss you straight on your mouth so you can taste yourself and that’d earn him another whimper which would result in another smack that leads to that cold metal trailing its way to your core and just as he pushes the tip of his finger inside-

   You cough and straighten your posture as the elevator door opens. When had you leaned up against the back wall of the elevator? Oh Gods, you could feel the slick at the apex of your thighs and you squeezed them together as inconspicuously as you could in fear that you were producing a . . . scent that would be rather difficult to conceal. But the slick only grew worse when you locked eyes with the person stepping into the elevator.

   Fuck.

   “That’s what you chose to wear?” He asked, a certain venom in his tone that immediately calmed the ache in your heat.

   “And what would you have me wear instead, Barnes?” You quipped back, your body facing forward as he took his place beside you in the cramped space.

   There was a beat of silence. Then another. “Not that,” he responded.

   “Well I’ll make sure to ask you next time since you have such impeccable taste,” you retorted, your eyes yet to abandon the sight of the closing doors.

   You weren’t sure of all the effects of the Super Soldier Serum that had been injected into Bucky and all that it heightened but you prayed to any God that would listen that his hearing wasn’t one of those things. You were too preoccupied with attempting to settle the hot pulse beating between your legs to worry about how loud your discomfort came across.

   “What do you look so nervous about?” Bucky’s gruff voice prodded. “You can’t possibly be nervous about the mission considering how big-headed you are,”

   You took a deep, long breath and held it to soothe you. Had you not been so previously preoccupied, you’d have given him hell for the insult. “I’m not nervous about that,” you sniped and rested back against the cool wall to satiate your burning skin before lifting your gaze to him only to find him already examining you.

   “Of course not, I just said that,” he retorted, bringing a gloved hand to his face to rub along his jaw, “there’s obviously nothing for you to worry about,”

   You scoffed, “And why is that, Barnes?” Cue the dramatic crossing of your arms. 

   “You’re smarter than Rumlow and significantly better trained. Overall, he really doesn’t hold a candle to your ability,” He paused for a second, his whole frame tensing until he remembered to relax, “But that’s not really saying much considering it’s Rumlow,” 

   You hadn’t noticed you raised your eyebrows until you felt your face fall, “Ah, there he is. You had me worried there for a second, Barnes. Thought you might actually try something new and display common decency for once,”

   A corner of his mouth turned up subtly and he shook his head. You trailed your gaze down to his hidden hand and stared long enough to burn a hole through the fabric.

   “If something’s bothering you, Dollface, go ahead and speak up,” 

   You weren’t sure what possessed you to say anything, especially knowing how touchy the subject was for him but the words left your mouth anyway, “I don’t know why you insist on hiding yourself,”

   He lurched his head back, your statement seeming to have a physical affect on the man and you mentally slapped yourself for saying anything.

   “I’m not hiding myself,”

   “But you are,” you interrupted, your thoughts coming out in pools of candor, “you aren’t your hand. You aren’t your past. You are you. Presently. You’re not the Winter Soldier anymore. That’s not even the same hand you had back then. It’s not tainted and neither are you. I say drop the gloves,”

   “And why would I care about what you say?” He growled, his eyebrows furrowed together and his neck tight in potential restraint.

   The elevator dinged and you looked towards the opening doors, “You don’t have to but they don’t look right with your suit either.” You walked through the exit and sauntered over to the others who had already gotten the party started, leaving Bucky dumb-founded behind you. “I need a shot,”

   “Already ready,” Tony quipped up, holding the small glass in the air for everyone to behold before bringing his cheek to yours in mock welcoming, “This’ll up your tolerance for the next hour, try to get all your drinking done within that time-frame,”

   You pulled away with a warm smile after faux kissing his cheek, “Finally!” you displayed and threw the liquid back in one swift motion, your face scrunching together against your will.

   “Yeah, she’s got a kick to her,” he mumbled and handed you a fruity drink to chase it down with. 

   You went around and said hi to everyone as you recognized most of those present. You made small chatter with those lesser known and drank the liquid in your hand significantly quicker than you’d like to. You excused yourself after you finished the drink and walked over to the bar, scanning the room as you were handed another glass. No Rumlow in sight.

   You headed towards the foosball table and gripped the handles after setting the beverage down on the counter beside you. You flinched as a reflection of light caught your eye and at first you thought your glass was the source. Until your eyes fixated on the reflection’s actual origin. To your far right, and up a few steps you found Bucky conversing with Steve, a dull light emitting from his hand. Not a glove in sight.

   “So, where’s your boyfriend?” Sam inquired when he filled the opposing spot.

   You rolled your eyes, “Bucky’s not my boyfriend,”

   “Bucky?” Sam’s tone chirped up teasingly, a knowing look wearing on his face.

   Your grip tightened around the handles and you slowly pulled away to throw the little white ball through the circle, your hands immediately twisting the miniscule players around. Your eyes shot back and forth, your sight never leaving the darting sphere. Sam still managed to win the first point.

   “Ha!” He shouted in triumph, bringing his finger up as if to scold you, “Don’t think you got away with that comment either, Y/N,”

   “What comment?” you questioned and gulped most of your drink before slamming it back down on the table.

   You heard your earpiece come to life with quiet static and you tried to keep your face masked. Rumlow had entered. Not a surprise either, the party was finally starting to pick up now.

   Sam threw the ball in and you turned the players meticulously this time, brute strength hadn’t helped you earlier so maybe you should take it slow. Steve made his way over to the table and threw his drink back, the liquid trickling down the side of his face before he wiped it away. Sam won the second point.

   “I play winner,” Tony chimed, standing beside Steve.

   You made a point to catch up and now you two were tied at three each. 

   “Best out of five?” You proposed, quirking an eyebrow at Sam.

   “If you didn’t want to play anymore you could’ve just said that,” he teased and you smirked at him as Tony made a subtle show of handing you another drink and you finished your second. “Loser takes two shots?”

   “Deal.” You nodded, knowing you didn’t have much of a choice as a small crowd began to form around you two. Rumlow amongst them. 

   Your jaw dropped when Sam shot the ball directly into your goal as soon as he’d let the ball go.

   “What the fuck?” You shouted, “No fair! That doesn’t count!”

   Thor erupted in laughter to your right and you blinked slowly, staring at the gargantuan man. 

   “It most certainly does,” Sam shouted back, his grin practically touching his ears.

   “Sam, take it easy on her,” Bucky muttered from beside him, quickly averting his gaze from yours and his expression loosened, “The brat hates losing,”

   “Brat?” You snarled.

   Bucky took a swig of his beer, watching you the entire time and you reeled back the fire beginning to form in your chest just to bring your drink up to your lips and chug the entire thing down. You handed it over to Tony who left to replace it. 

   “Last point,” Sam stated, “It’s not too late to quit now,”

   You shook your head and blinked away the feign distortion you were supposed to have. “Just play the ball,”

   “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he teased and threw the ball in. 

   You wanted to win. Desperately. But you had a character to play tonight and she was supposed to be drunk. So you hit your hand against the corner of the table just as Sam happened to make the winning point. You grumbled and threw him a glare when Tony broke through the crowd.

   “Coming through,” he shouted, handing two small glasses to you while you gripped your knuckles in pain. “Noooo, you’re not getting out of taking these. C’mon, take your punishment,”

   “Yes, Daddy,” you grumbled and cringed at your own words when the realization hit you. Whatever. You were supposed to be drunk, anyway. 

   “Daddy?” Tony quipped and pulled the drinks back towards himself, “Maybe you should be cut off,”

   “What?” You argued, leaning slightly on the table with your hand and snatching the drinks from Tony’s hold, effectively spilling some on yourself. “See?” You lifted up the half empty shot glass, “This barely counts as a shot,”

   “I’ll get her a new one,” Rumlow offered and disappeared before anyone could argue. 

   “She really doesn’t need another-” Bucky tried to interject and take the shots from you but you twisted around and chugged down the one full glass.

   Water.

   You looked up at Tony and his smirk was barely noticeable. But you could tell. Bucky nearly ripped the other drink from you but Tony blocked his path and you exaggerated your next drink as Rumlow broke back into the crowd, shot in tow.

   “Here.” Rumlow’s calloused hand held the drink up above you and you stared at him with a questioning look. “Open,” he ordered and the fire burning in your chest fought to destroy everything in its vicinity. You bit your lip in refrain but tossed your head back and opened your mouth.

   Static broke over your earpiece. Don’t drink that! Wanda’s voice erupted.

   Your eyes widened as the liquid made its way down but you coughed hard to stop whatever you could. 

   Why? Steve’s voice came through right after.

   You choked on the liquid and shut your eyes at the way it burned its way down. You reached your hand out to grab someone’s drink to ease the burning and grasped a tall glass and tossed it back. The burning didn’t ease up and you felt a hand rest on your back.

   “Are you okay?” Rumlow’s voice rang out and your skin nearly recoiled from the contact, “How about we get you some water?”

   You looked up at him when the burning subsided minimally and nodded your head, letting him lead the way to the bar. He parted the crowd and someone took step right behind you to follow when the presence suddenly died out abruptly. You turned around to check who it had been and found no one.

   Why? Steve asked again.

   Where’s Wanda? Bruce broke through.

   You lifted your head and flitted your gaze around the room until you found the familiar Sokovian on the couch, laying down with her eyes closed. You pulled away from Rumlow but his grip on your hand tightened and his steps grew in haste. You whirled your head to yell at him but the way the room swayed with the movement cause you to shut your mouth in surprise. 

   Didn’t Tony say you would have a higher tolerance?

   “Couch...” you muttered, pointing over your shoulder just in case your target was curious enough to ask but the message was delivered.

   Rumlow hoisted you up onto the bar stool and stood on your open side, using his body to keep you from falling over. Or to cage you in.

   “I don’t feel good,” You rested an elbow on the countertop and held your head up.

   “I can’t imagine you would. You’ve been chugging those drinks like they’re water.” Despite that, Rumlow motioned to the bartender and asked for two more.

   You giggled and your head lulled forward with the action. You let Rumlow catch you from tumbling over. Why did your body feel so heavy? Not to mention the way everything around you dazed about. You couldn’t catch a single action, let alone attempt to read Rumlow’s body language. But you did happen to notice the way his eyes searched the room before coming back to you.

   “You okay?” You rested your forearm against his chest and pushed slightly to allow yourself a better view of his face.

   A small smirk, “Am I okay? What about you?”

   You smacked your lips and brought the ice cold glass to your lips. That’s not water. “I’m doing reeaalllyy good,” you drawled.

   Rumlow chuckled and pushed you deeper into the chair, “I can tell.” He took a sip, his attention never faltering from your body, “Just be sure to pace yourself from here on out,”

   You made a show of cocking your head to the side and letting a smile sprawl onto your face as you studied him. 

   “What?” he questioned, a curious lift in his brow.

   You shook your head gently and kept your gaze on him over the brim of your glass, “You’re just . . . not what I was expecting,”

   “And what were you expecting?” 

   Don’t forget to bat your eyelashes. “Worse,”

   “Sorry to disappoint,” he jeered, his attention once again cast throughout the room before centering back on you.

   You followed his action but quickly came to the conclusion that moving any pace faster than a sloth was going to make you nauseous and you could barely keep a thought together. Your stomach began to rise in your chest and the fear seized your throat shut. Why couldn’t you hold onto a thought for longer than a second? It was like you were aware of your lack of consciousness but could do nothing about it because any thought or bout of panic phased through just as soon as it arrived.

   “What are you so tense for, Rumlow? You know you’re not currently on the clock, right?” You teased, your head leaning on your shoulder as you spoke.

   He brought his drink up to his lips and finished it off in three gulps, “I’m not tense. It’s just hard to turn it off sometimes,”

   You nodded slowly and pushed your drink towards him, “Relax. You know everyone here,”

   He shook his head and placed your drink back in front of you before asking for another beer.

   “And two shots!” You shouted to the bartender, throwing two of your fingers high up and instantly regretting how fast you’d done it.

   “Are you trying to get me drunk?” He asked you, a side smirk beginning to form.

   You placed your finger over your lips and hushed, “Shh, I won’t tell if you don’t.” You dragged your lower lip down and his eyes fixated to commit the scene to memory. “Besides, I always feel dumb if I’m the only one drunk,”

   He motioned to the rest of the party, “Believe me, Sugar, you’re not the only one enjoying yourself,”

   “But are you?” 

   “Am I what?” 

   “Enjoying yourself?” 

   Your skin crawled when he placed his rough hand on your barren thigh, “Absolutely,”

   Don’t forget what you’re here for. Don’t let the objective slip. Gods, how the fuck were you supposed to retain anything when you were so sleepy? And why was it so warm?

   “Hot,” you mumbled, fishing around in your glass for an ice cube to rub on your face.

   “Thank you,”

   You threw your head back in laughter and nearly earned yourself an up-close and personal view of the floor had Rumlow not wrapped an arm around your waist and held you steady. Once he was certain you weren’t going to toss yourself onto the ground, he parted your legs and stood between them to keep you rooted to your seat.

   All the movement had you spinning and you white-knuckled Rumlow’s cotton shirt to keep yourself grounded to something, anything. Red warning lights were firing up in your chest and you tensed with the way your body buckled to the panic coursing through you. Your heart pounded in your ears and danced across your skin, lighting it on fire and making the room too stuffy to bear. Please, no. Not now. Focus. Snap out of it. Come back, stay back. Your breathing hitched and you looked down at the sensation crawling its way up higher on your thigh. Too hot. Everything was too hot, if you didn’t get out of this now you would never-

   “Vision!” You cheered, happy to see your friend.

   The presence on your thigh recoiled slightly.

   “I’m taking Wanda to her room, seems she’s had a bit too much to drink,” Vision informed and you’d only just then noticed the body in his hold.

   “Wanda!” You smiled, admiring her peaceful features as she slept in his arms. You poked at her cheek then jerked your gaze back up to Vision. “What? Wanda doesn’t drink,”

   She’s not acting, Sam’s voice erupted in your ear and you flinched at the sound. 

   Vision’s eyes went from you to Rumlow then back to you slowly, “Y/N . . . are you okay?”

   You beamed at him and slowly brought up your thumb. “Good,” you responded.

   You followed Vision’s gaze back up to Rumlow and smiled at the agent beside you. You guess he’s kind of cute. In a strange, unsettling way.

   “She’s had a lot to drink, so we’re just trying to slow down the pace. Aren’t we, Y/N?” Rumlow looked down at you.

   You nodded fervently, “Yup!” 

   Vision hesitated but knew he didn’t pose much of a threat with Wanda in his arms unconscious, so he quirked a smile and walked towards the hall.

   Someone get to Y/N, something’s not right, Vision ordered and you lifted your head up to find him. You could have sworn he just left.

   “Here.” Rumlow handed you a glass, “Drink this, it’ll cool you down,” 

   You stared at the glass in his hold and looked up at him, “You drink it first,” you slurred, holding your finger up at him.

   He cocked his head to the side but took a swig of the drink and you watched it go down his throat. You shrugged and grabbed at it.

   Do not drink that, Nat ordered from somewhere and you looked around in wonder at who she was yelling to.

   Bucky, Sit down! Steve growled.

   Like hell, responded a voice you knew all too well.

   Your smile grew and you looked through the crowd, “Bucky!” You feverishly called, completely expecting to see him before you. Rumlow’s head lifted instantly, his eyes scouring the area.

   “I’ve got this, Pretty Boy,” Tony hastily spoke, “How ya doin’, Hot Stuff?” He interrogated and you reeled at the tone.

   “Quite well, thank you,” you responded tenaciously and attempted to take a swig of the drink in your grasp.

   Tony’s hand shot out and covered the top, slamming the cup back down on the counter and effectively getting the drink all over your dress.

   “What the fuck?” You tried to shout but the words came out heavy and required too much energy to speak.

   “You’ve had enough for tonight,”

   “It’s just water,” Rumlow defended but Tony paid him no mind.

   Your jaw dropped open and you glared at the older man. Who the hell did he think he was? Tony’s stare burned through your skull and despite your irritation, you couldn’t help but wonder why he was so pissed.

   “Are you mad at me?” You drawled, lulling your head to the side.

   “No,” he responded curtly. 

   “Am I being too loud or something?” You pushed. You couldn’t imagine you were any louder than any other drunken bastard at this party.

   “No,”

   Get her out of there or I swear to God I will, his voice hissed into your ear.

   Your eyebrows rose slightly in excitement, “Mmm, Bucky,” you smiled and Tony nodded.

   “’Mmm, Bucky’ is right. Wanna go see him?” Tony offered, sticking out his hand for you to take.

   You fell forward into Rumlow’s chest but shook your head furiously none the less, “For what? So he can tell me I’m horrendous at my-”

   Oh shit. Your job. The job.

   If only your body didn’t feel so heavy and your mind so light.

   You pushed off Rumlow’s chest and glared at Tony, “I can handle myself,” you insisted, a new sort of sober tone making its way through that caused him to do a once-over. “I know what I’m doing,”

   “How many drinks have you had?” Tony challenged and you fell silent.

   Then you felt a tap, and another and a few more.

   “Six,” You said, hoping you’d counted right.

   Tony, don’t you even fucking consider it, Bucky threatened.

   “You could at least change, recuperate and then come back,” Tony offered and you sighed a breath of relief before nodding.

   “Deal,” you agreed, “I’m hot anyway,”

   Tony gave you one last glance before turning around and blending into the crowd on the other end of the room.

   You looked up to Rumlow who’s gaze was still locked on the sea of people, “Don’t you wish you’d taken that shot now?” you tried to jeer, every last word bringing you deeper and deeper.

   “Are they always that intense?” He questioned, not turning his attention to you.

   “They can be over-bearing,” you admitted, hand grabbing the water from earlier and pressing it up against your forehead, “They consider me the baby so they’re always criticizing and suffocating until I just wished they’d disappear.” You took a gulp, “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the family and I like that I have a cause but . . . they don’t let me do anything. It’s exhausting,”

   You let out a long breath and smeared the condensation from the glass onto your chest. Rumlow studied you then, not just your body but your reaction. He was watching how you dropped your shoulders at the confession and how you faced your back to them to block them out. 

   You plastered your torso on the countertop and tried to slow your heartrate down. You couldn’t be the only one here unfathomably hot.

   “Why is it so fucking hot?” You questioned, fanning yourself weakly.

   “There are a lot of people around,” Rumlow offered, “how about we go somewhere else? Tony did say you had to change,”

   You peered up at him through half-lidded eyes and meekly groaned in compliance. “Fine,”

   You lifted yourself away from the counter and gently placed your feet on the floor. You’d touched the ground faster than anticipated. Had the ground always been so close?

   “Don’t worry, I gotcha.” Rumlow threw an arm around your waist and helped you trudge towards the elevator.

   Where the hell are you going? Bucky yelled and the sound of shuffling could be heard from his end.

   We can’t let you leave with Rumlow, Y/N. We’re not even sure you’re acting anymore, Sam stated.

   Rumlow pressed the button when you couldn’t muster the strength to do it yourself. The level that your room was on lit up and the doors began closing. You thought you saw Rumlow wave at someone but the mock smile on his face didn’t make it seem like a warm good-bye.

   Your legs had all but given out by the time the elevator reached your shared floor. 

   “Heavy,” you muttered, letting Rumlow carry your weight fully.

   “I know, Sugar. We’re almost there,” he soothed and you conceded to the fatigue wearing you down.

   Your head hung low and your arm dangled uselessly at your side. The familiar sound of your door sliding open caught your attention but you did nothing. You couldn’t. 

   “How . . . know . . . my room?” You questioned, each word causing you to pull from an empty well of energy.

   “I’ve been here before.” Rumlow tossed you onto the bed and sprawled you out.

   “Oh. Ok.” You tried to turn on to your side but strong hands gripped down onto your ankles.

   Rumlow sighed and slipped the heels off your feet, examining the pair like he wanted to wear them. You extended your feet until you felt every muscle in your leg stretch to its capacity and let out a groan of pleasure at the release. Those shoes hurt so bad.

   “You seem . . . intelligent, Y/N.” Rumlow dropped your shoes onto the floor and slithered to the side of your bed, standing beside it with his hands tucked into his pockets.

   A bead of sweat trickled down your forehead, “Hot . . .” you croaked and he nodded.

   “You’re right. It is getting kind of hot.” He brought a hand up to his neck and ripped off the tie hanging around it.

   Get the fuck out of my way, a growl erupted in your ear.

   We’re going with you, Buck, Steve responded before knocking something over.

   “So, what I have a hard time understanding is. . . why you’re here?” 

   You groaned a weak ‘huh’ but even that didn’t sound right.

   “You’re good at what you do, you finish every mission successfully and yet you’re underappreciated.” He took a seat at the foot of your bed and placed one of your legs into his lap, “Why do you allow them to treat you like that? We wouldn’t,”

   The shuffling in your earpiece halted.

   “We?” 

   He began to massage your calf and brought your knee up to his lips, peppering light kisses on it. “We could use someone with your skillset, babe. We’d take real good care of you,”

   The shuffling started again.

   Rumlow had made his way onto your thigh at this point and you let out an involuntary moan when he skimmed over a delicate part on your inner knee.

   “Ya like that?” he questioned but didn’t wait for a response. He brought a hand up to his temple and grabbed the earpiece. You figured he just hadn’t taken it out from his earlier shift but when he pulled it apart, you understood why he always kept it on him.

   “Flash . . . drive earpiece?” Your weak tone tilted a little. “W-why tell . . .”

   “I figured I’d give you the option to leave since you seem so . . . suffocated. If you said yes tonight then I would remind you tomorrow. If you didn’t,” he chuckled, “well, you wouldn’t remember anyway.” His hands trailed to your mid-thigh and you squeaked. “I’m impressed though, I’ve never given anyone else as much as I’ve given you tonight. The drug usually works so quickly on others, but not you. It’s kind of hot, actually,”

   Sick fuck, Natasha growled through a ragged breath.

   The world around you was slow or maybe it was you that was slow? You couldn’t tell, honestly. But when Rumlow moved as if he could predict your actions before you could make them, you wondered whether you were moving at all.

   “Don’t worry, it’ll be over soon,” Rumlow sighed.

   You shook your head, or thought you did but despite the way your body was live-wired, it remained still against all desire. 

   Fight. Move. 

   You managed to push your legs shut but his hand slithered between and spread them open similar to opening a door, but this required much less force.

   “Kill,” You threatened and the sinister smile that crawled its way onto Rumlow’s face was vile enough to sink your heart into your stomach.

   “Kill is fucking right.” Someone snarled and your door was ripped from its hinges.

   Rumlow’s hand jerked away from your body and Bucky seized his open palm, intertwining their fingers and pushing Rumlow’s so far back that they touched the back of his own hand. The cracks were sickening onto themselves but had you not been so weak you would’ve turned from the sight altogether. You really couldn’t fathom how his fingers were still attached at all.

   “Lay another hand on her and you won’t be able to use it again.” Bucky spit.

   Despite Rumlow’s pain, the sinister smile remained sprawled on his face, “You should’ve heard the noises she made,”

   Bucky’s grip tightened and the bones in his palm broke next, “I did,”

   Natasha flew in right behind Barnes but completely dismissed the two and headed straight for you with a needle in hand. Your eyes shifted from the needle to Nat’s face and back again until she stabbed it into your upper arm. Ouch. 

   “Wha-”

   “Shh,” Natasha hastily hushed, “Keep your strength, you should be back to normal soon,”

   Steve came behind Nat and scooped you up to lead you out of the havoc going on in the room. Nat turned her focus to Bucky and reached over to grab the earpiece from Rumlow. Who knows if his nose will ever heal back normally. You held one finger in the air as Steve stepped over the splintered door.

   “Goddamit, Y/N,” Steve huffed, jogging towards the elevator and pressing the floor that led to the infirmary.

   “We won,” you croaked out, a small smile on your face and Steve shook his head.

   “I’m never going to hear the end of this,” 

   Steve looked you up and down for bruises but couldn’t find any and you promised you weren’t lying to him when you told him Rumlow did not get very far in his ‘advances’ at all. You had to swear the mid-thigh was the worst that it came to. 

   Bruce was the one that took a few blood samples and made sure everything was reversing back to normal. Apparently, as soon as Rumlow took you to the bar Tony handed Banner the shot glass that Rumlow gave you and Banner ran analysis on it. The cure was pretty easy to find.

   After being given strict orders to lie down for the next hour or so, it had been decided that Rumlow was to be turned in considering all the evidence required to make the arrest was in the flashdrive and everyone was to gather together for a ‘family night’. Whatever the hell that meant.

   You were in the middle of debating which movie to pick with Steve when the infirmary doors flew open.

   “Where is she?” Bucky nearly shouted upon seeing Bruce.

   “That’s my cue.” Steve stood up just as Bucky rounded the corner, “If you need anything me and Banner will be right over there,”

   You smiled and thanked him then turned your attention to the super-soldier who just arrived at the foot of your bed.

   He didn’t say anything for a while, just looked at you. No, not really. Not at you but through you. A few painstakingly slow seconds went by that way.

   “You owe me a new door,” you joked, a half-smile on your face.

   “Are you okay?” He asked, finally registering your presence.

   You nodded slowly, “I am,”

   Then a few more seconds.

   Bucky turned his gaze down to his hands, both of them barren and on display for the world to see, before shifting his weight between either foot, “Did he- did he touch you?”

   “Not really. Just really liked my legs for some reason,” your attempt at another quip didn’t reach Bucky. He stared back up at you waiting for an answer, an honest one. You sighed, “The damage is more mental,” you admitted, now you were the one not able to look up, “I didn’t like being in this altered state of mind. It’s invasive and . . . scary. He could’ve done things, much worse things but it never got that far or that bad. It was more realizing that I wasn’t completely conscious or present and having that state of mind be taken advantage of, that mostly frightened me. Ya know?”

   “More than anyone,” he answered immediately.

   You looked back up towards him, finally making eye contact, “But I’m fine now, really. Just a little spooked. Steve wants to do a movie night tonight and I would actually prefer that over being alone.” Your eyes fixated on the way his hands clenched and unclenched on the bar by your feet, “If I’m alone then I’ll get stuck in my head about it. Besides, I consider this a hard victory with a few bumps in the road,” 

   He chuckled, lulling his head a bit, “You’re too stubborn for your own good,”

   You shrugged, “Maybe. How’s Rumlow?”

   Bucky hissed and moved over to the side of the bed where he took a seat, “He’s unconscious. And has a hand that he’ll never be able to use again. But other than that, he’s fine,”

   You chuckled and Bucky watched how the laugh met your eyes. He liked that look on you. It was one of his favorites.

   “Why are you looking at me like that?” You questioned once it fell silent between you two again.

   “You called me Bucky earlier,” he remembered.

   You scoffed, “I call you Bucky all the time,”

   “Not to my face,”

   “Not to your face,” you agreed, a teasing smile dancing on your lips and Bucky had one that mirrored yours. 

   “It was nice. Hearing it, I mean,” he admitted and a wave of warmth made its way to your face.

   “I see your hands are exposed,”

   He looked down as though he weren’t aware that he’d taken off his own gloves, “These bad boys? A friend of mine reminded me that I’m not my past. I’m my present. Why hide my growth?”

   You twiddled your thumbs together, “She sounds smart,”

   Now he scoffed, “Oh, it wasn’t a girl, it was some old buddy of mine.” He quirked up a brow, “Unless the person being a girl would make you jealous because in that case it was most definitely a girl,”

   You fought against the natural tug at the corners of your mouth, “Is she at least pretty?”

   “Stunning,” 

   “Smart?”

   “Genius,”

   “Good at her job?”

   “Amongst the best,”

   “Then consider me jealous, Barnes,”

   Bucky chuckled and you watched how the laugh met his eyes. You liked that look on him. It was one of your favorites.

[feanorianethicsdepartment]

Alright, I read your recent post and need to know - what is your interpretation of Maglor’s relationship with the twins?

askjdhslkjag my biggest self-inflicted problem in this fandom is that my take on maglor, elrond, and elros' relationship is so intensely detailed and specific i am forever tormented by none of the fic i read ever quite getting it right (from my perspective; i’ve read plenty of fic that presents a good interpretation on their own terms, it’s just never mine.) it’s simultaneously way darker than the fluffy kidnap dads stuff and nowhere near as black-and-white awful as the anti-fëanorian crowd likes to paint it, it’s messy and complicated and surrounded by darkness, and yet there’s also a sincere connection within it which mostly serves to make all those complications worse. angry teenage elrond is angry for a great many reasons, and the circumstances around him being raised by kinslayers account for at least half of them. there’s lots of complexity here, and i don’t see it in fic nearly as often as i’d like

(warning: the post... feathers? i already have an internet friend called faeiri this could be awkward - anyway, the post she’s talking about includes the line ‘everyone is wrong about kidnap dads except me.’ this post follows on from that in being as much a commentary about why various popular interpretations of both how the kidnapdoption went and the way people subsequently characterise the twins just don’t work for me as it is a setting out of my own ideas. i’m not really interested in getting into discourse here, i’m just trying to get my thoughts down. i’ve read fic with these interpretations before that i’ve liked, even, don’t take this as a Condemnation, aight? also this turned out long as hell, so i’m putting it under a cut)

i can never buy entirely fluffy depictions of kidnap dads

which isn’t to say i don’t read them! sometimes all i want is something sweet, for these kids to get to be happy for once. it’s not like i think their time with the fëanorians was completely devoid of laughter

it’s just. the pet names, the special days out, the home-cooked meals, it can get so treacly it stops feeling like the characters they are in the situation they’re in and turns into Generic Found Family #272

it soaks out all the complexity - which is the thing i am here for - and acts like oh, these kids were never in any danger, they were perfectly happy being abducted by the people who murdered everyone they knew, there’s nothing possibly questionable about this relationship at all

and... yeah. that’s not the characters i know. that’s not the context i know they belong to

i just can’t forget the circumstances that led them to meet

rivers of blood, the air filled with screams, a town ablaze, a woman choosing to die. every interaction the three of them have is going to proceed from that nightmare

(sidenote: i tend to hold it was maglor that raised the twins, with maedhros looming ominously in the background not really getting involved. it’s mostly personal preference, i’ve been in and out of the fandom since before this kidnap dads thing blew up and when i joined that was a perfectly standard reading)

(also the cave thing was a dumb idea, old man, if only because it implies beleriand had streams safe enough for children to play in at that point. the way it separates the twins from the third kinslaying is also something i don’t particularly vibe with)

probably my least favourite angle i’ve seen on the situation (edged out only by ‘maglor was actively abusive towards the twins’ which no no no no no no no no NO) is the idea that maglor (and/or maedhros, append as necessary) took the twins specifically to raise them

like, i get where it’s coming from, but it makes maglor come off as really creepy

(i have read fics where it is indeed played off as really creepy, but that’s not a maglor i have any interest in reading about)

(’mags 100% bad’ is just as facile a take to me as ‘mags 100% good’)

even if you’re saying maglor took them in because they had no one left to take care of them - i highly doubt they were the only children the fëanorians orphaned at sirion. idk, it always makes maglor seem much less sympathetic than i think it’s meant to

i prefer to think of it as more... organic? something that evolved, not something that was preordained. them growing closer gradually, the twins finding an adult who might maybe be on their side, maglor becoming invested in them almost by accident

and then the twins are so comfortable with the second scariest monster in amon ereb they frequently sass him off and maglor’s gotten so used to not hurting them he’s not even thinking about it any more. no one’s quite sure how it happened, but they’ve made a Connection

‘wait aren’t they a murderous warlord of questionable mental stability and a pair of terrified small children who’ve lost everyone they ever knew? isn’t that kinda fucked up?’ yup! that’s the point! complexity!

another idea i don’t like is the idea that maglor was an objectively better parent to the twins than eärendil or elwing

other people have talked about this already, i won’t rehash the whole thing. i will say that while i don’t think elwing was a perfect parent - someone so young, in such a horrible situation, i wouldn’t blame her for screwing up - i do think she (and eärendil) did the best by them they possibly could

this is one of the few things they have in common with maglor

something i come across now and again is the idea that sure, elwing and eärendil weren’t abusive or horrible or anything, but they were a couple of basically-teenagers with so many other responsibilities, there was only so much they could do. maglor, on the other hand, is an experienced adult who could take much better care of the twins

and...

first off, it’s not like mags doesn’t have a job. he’s a warlord, he has a fortress to help run, military shit to handle, lots of other stuff that needs to get done to stop everyone from starving or getting eaten by orcs. i feel like sirion had enough of a government there was plenty of opportunity for elwing to take days off and play with her kids, but in the fëanorian camp nobody really has the time to chase after a couple of toddlers, least of all one of the last points on the command network. they just don’t have the people any more

(seriously, the twins getting a formal education with tutors and classes and shit is a weirdly specific pet peeve of mine. this is a band of renegades, not a royal household; if there’s anyone left with those kinds of skills they almost certainly have more important things to do)

more than that, though - well, a quick glance through my late stage fëanorians tag should tell you a lot about what i think maglor’s mental state is like at this point. he is so accustomed to violence death means nothing to him, he’s lost most of his capacity for genuinely positive emotion to an endless century of defeat and despair, he hates everything in the universe, especially himself, he’s only able to keep functioning through a truly astounding amount of denial, and he covers it all up with a layer of snark and feigned apathy, which he defends aggressively because he’s subconsciously realised that if it breaks he’ll have absolutely nothing left

(maedhros, for the record, is... i’d say more stable, but at a lower point. maglor may interact with the world mostly through cold stares and mocking laughter, but at least his mind is firmly rooted in the present)

(on the other hand, at least maedhros lets himself be aware of what they are and where their road will lead)

which... this doesn’t mean maglor doesn’t try to be kind to the twins, or rein in his worst impulses around them

there’s just so little of him left but the weapon

he stalks through the halls like a portent of death and gets into hours-long screaming matches with maedhros and has definitely killed people in front of the twins

not even as, like, a deliberate attempt to scare them, but because when you solve most of your problems by stabbing them it’s pretty much a given that people who spend a lot of time around you are going to see you do it at least once

and sometimes, he curls up in an empty hallway, and weeps

... suffice it to say i don’t think elwing’s the more preoccupied, or the less mentally ill, parent here

just. in general, the fëanorians aren’t cackling boogeymen, but they’re not particularly nice either

no one has the energy left for that. not these isolated and weary soldiers at the end of a long losing war and the beginning of the end of the world. they don’t really bother to guard the kids against them escaping. where else are they going to go?

the sheer despair that must have been in the fëanorian camp after sirion, the knowledge that the cause cannot be fulfilled, that they are utterly forsaken, that they’re really just waiting to die -

it can’t have been a happy place to grow up in, under the shadow of loss and grief and deeds unrepentable, and the slow march of inevitable defeat

they would have had a better childhood if they stayed in sirion, raised by people who knew how to hope

but that isn’t the childhood they had. and despite everything i’ve said, i don’t think that childhood was an entirely awful one

yeah, see, this is where the other side of my self-inflicted fandom catch-22 comes in. just as much of the pro-kidnap dads stuff comes off as overly saccharine and simplified to me, i find much of the anti-kidnap dads stuff equally simplistic in the opposite direction

the idea that maglor and the fëanorians never meant anything to elros and elrond, that they had no effect on the people they became at all, that it was just a horrible thing that happened when they were children, easily thrown in the rear-view mirror...

that’s even more impossible to me than the idea that life with the fëanorians was 100% fluffy and nice

like, i’ve seen the take that elros and elrond hated the fëanorians from start to finish. they were perfect little sindarin princes, loyal to their people and the memory of doriath, spurning every scrap of kindness offered to them and knowing just what to say to twist the knife into the kinslayers’ wounds

... dude. they were six. hell, given their peredhelness, mentally they could easily have been younger

what six year old has a firm grasp of their ethnic identity? what six year old is fully aware of their place in history? what six year old would understand the politics that led to their situation?

don’t get me wrong, i can see hatred in there. but something else that doesn’t get acknowledged alongside it often enough is the fear

some of the stuff i’ve read feels like it gives the kids too much power in the situation. they’re perfectly happy to talk back to and belittle the people who burned down their hometown and killed everyone they ever knew, like miniature adults who don’t feel threatened at all

and, like, six. i can see them going for insults as a defensive measure, but it is defensive. it’s covering up fear, not coming from secure disdain

(and a lot of those insults sound, again, like things an adult who’s already familiar with the fëanorians would say, not a scared child who’s lost almost everything. why would a six year old raised by sindar and gondolindrim know what the noldolantë is, let alone what it means to maglor?)

(... i’m just ranting about this one fic that’s been ruffling my feathers for five years straight now, aren’t i)

i mean, i write elrond as the world’s angriest teenager, who snipes at maglor pretty much constantly, but the thing about angry teenage elrond is that he’s angry teenage elrond

he’s spent long enough with the fëanorians he has a pretty secure position within the camp, and he knows that maglor won’t hurt him from a decade and change of maglor not, in fact, hurting him

but as a small and terrified child abducted by the monsters his mother had nightmares about? he fluctuated wildly between ‘randomly guessing at things to say that wouldn’t get him killed’ ‘screaming at maglor to go away in words rarely more complicated than that’ 'desperately trying not to do or say anything in the hopes of not being noticed’ and ‘hiding’

(and i don’t think the twins were never in any danger from the fëanorians, either. quite besides the point that before they started orbiting maglor nobody was really sure what to do with them... well, they wouldn’t be the first children of thingol’s line the minions took revenge on)

(fortunately for them, maglor did, in fact, take them under his wing. by this point even their own followers are shit scared of the last two sons of fëanor, nobody’s going to mess with their stuff and risk getting mauled. tactically, it was a pretty good decision for a couple of toddlers)

more to the point, i feel like a child that young, in a situation that horrible, wouldn’t reject any kindness they were offered, any soothing touch in a universe of terror

in a world full of big scary monsters, the best way to survive is to get the biggest scariest monster possible to protect you. that’s how elros rationalises it when they’re, like, eight, mentally, but at the time they were just latching on to the only person around them who seemed to care about them

that’s how it started, on their end. two very young very scared children lost in a neverending nightmare clinging tightly to the lone outstretched pair of hands

as for maglor...

i’ve called mags evil before, but i see that as more of a... technical term? he is evil because he did the murder, he remains evil because he won’t stop doing the murder. hot take: murder bad

but that doesn’t make him, like, a moustache-twirling saturday morning cartoon villain. he is deeply unhappy with the position he’s in and the person he’s become, and he’s always trying not to take that final step over the edge

it’s not that i can’t see a maglor who is abusive or manipulative or who sees the twins more as objects than people. it’s just that that characterisation is one i am profoundly uninterested in. i do occasionally read fic with it, but it never enters my own headcanons

horrible people can do good things!! kinslayers can do good things!! the fallen are capable of humanity!! people can do both good and evil things at the same time, because people are complicated!! maglor is not psychologically incapable of actually taking pity on these kids!!!!

it’s... again, complexity. the fëanorians straddle the line between black and white, which is a lot less sharp in the legendarium than it’s sometimes characterised as. it’s what draws me to their characters so much, why i have so many stupid headcanons about them. pretending they fall firmly on either side of the line is my real fandom pet peeve

and, like, this moment? this sincere connection between a bloodstained warlord and two children who will grow up to be great and kind in equal measure? i may not entirely like the direction the fandom’s taken it recently, but that beat, that relationship, it still gets me

so no, i don’t think elrond and elros’ years with the fëanorians were an endless cavalcade of abuse and misery. i think there was love there, despite the darkness all around them

an old, tired monster, and the two tiny children it protects

maglor never hurts the twins, not ever, not once. his claws are sharp and his fangs are keen, if he so much as swatted them he’d rip them in half. instead he folds down the razor edges of his being, interacting with them ever so carefully. he has nightmares of suddenly tearing into their skin

seriously, the power differential between them is so great, maglor so much as raising his voice would break any trust they have in this horribly dangerous creature. fics where he does corporal punishment always get the side-eye from me

the mood of their relationship is... i find it hard to put into words. melancholy, maybe, like a sunny afternoon a few days before the end of the world. three people who’ve lost so much finding what respite they can in each other as the world slowly crumbles around them

there are times when it feels like the three of them exist in a world of their own, marked out by the edges of the firelight. maglor telling stories of the stars, elros giving relaxed irreverent commentary, elrond getting a few moments to just be, all their troubles kept at bay

they are the last two lights in a world sunk into darkness, the last two living beings he does not on some level hate. he will tear his own heart out before he sees them in pain

he teaches them to ride, he teaches them to read, he gives them everything he still has left. the twins should never have been in this situation, maglor probably isn’t entirely fit to take care of them, but it is what it is, and they take what love they can

(maglor depends on the twins emotionally a bit more than any adult should rely on any child. he’s still very much the caretaker in their relationship, but that relationship is the only one he has left that’s not stained by a century of rage and grief. he’s obsessed with them, maedhros tells him frequently. maglor’s standard response to this is to try to gouge maedhros’ eyes out)

(that particular darker side to their relationship, where maglor’s attachment to the twins turns into a desperate possessiveness - that’s not something i think i’ve ever seen in fic. which is a shame, it feels much closer to my own characterisation than the standard ways this relationship gets maleficised. darker, in a different way than usual. horribly compelling in its plausibility)

however you want to read it, i don’t think you can deny this is a relationship that defines elrond and elros’ childhood. they were raised in the woods by a pack of kinslayers, the text is quite clear on this

but i’ve seen a lot of talk about how elros and elrond are only sirion’s children. they are completely 100% sindarin, they love and forgive eärendil and elwing thoroughly and without question, they identify with doriath over - even gondolin, let alone tirion. the fëanorians - the people who raised them - had zero effect on the people they grew into and the selves they created

and that, more than anything else, i find utterly unbelievable

look, i get what this is a reaction to. a lot of the kidnap dads stuff paints the fëanorians as elrond and elros’ ‘real’ family, and i’ve already talked about what i think of the idea that maglor-and-possibly-also-maedhros were better parents than eärendil and elwing. i think it’s reductive and overly optimistic and just a little too neat

but to say instead that elrond and elros held no great love in their hearts for maglor, no lingering affinity with the fëanorians, no influence on their identity from the people they grew up around, none at all? that after it happened they just left it behind and resumed being the same people they were in sirion?

that strikes me as just as much an oversimplification. it sands down all the potential rough edges of their identity, all that inconvenient complexity that stops them from fitting into any well-defined box, and replaces it with a nice safe simple self-conception i find just as flat and boring as declaring them 100% fëanorian

we can quibble over who they call ‘father’ (i personally find that whole debate kinda petty) but denying that it was actually maglor who was the closest thing they knew to a parent for most of their childhoods, and that that would, in fact, affect the way they thought of themselves and their family, elides so many interesting possibilities out of existence

(i’m not even going to get into the most braindead take i have ever heard on the subject, namely that because their time with the fëanorians was such a small fraction of elrond’s total lifespan it was like being kidnapped for two weeks as a toddler and had no greater significance than that. do you not understand what childhood is????)

like, i tend to think of elrond as a child as being very loudly not-a-fëanorian. elros is more willing to go with the flow - hey, if the creepy kinslayer wants kids, elros is happy to play into that in order to not be murdered - but elrond is very firm that he’s not happy to be here and he doesn’t belong with them

(this is after they get over their initial terror, of course, when they’ve realised they won’t be fed to the orcs for the tiniest slight. even so, elrond only really gets shirty about it around people he’s comfortable with, whose reactions he can reasonably guess at. naturally, the first person he does it to is maglor)

elros calls maglor their father exactly once, when they’re... maybe early preteens? this is because elrond hears him do it and immediately loses his shit. they have a dad, elrond says, in tears, and a mum, and any day now their real parents are going to come to pick them up and take them home

... right?

it gets harder to believe as the years roll on, as their memories of sirion fade, as they find their own places within the host, as maglor watches over them as they grow. elrond still mentally sets himself apart from the fëanorians, but it’s more of an effort every year. life in the fëanorian camp is the only one he’s ever really known. he can barely remember his mother’s voice

then the war of wrath starts, and the fëanorian host drifts closer to the army of valinor, and the twins come into contact with non-fëanorians for the first time in forever, and it becomes clear just how obviously fëanorian elrond is. he always insisted he wasn’t like the kinslayers at all, but he dresses like them, talks like them, fights like them

the myth cycles the edain tell are almost completely unfamiliar to him, he barely remembers the shape of the songs of lost doriath. even these sarcastic commentary and subversive reinterpretations he made of maglor’s stories - those were still maglor’s stories! he’s been trying to guess at the person he was meant to be, but it’s growing nightmarishly blatant how little elrond ever knew about him

instead, the people he was born to are as alien to him as the orcs of morgoth. he is a fëanorian, through and through

... yeah, elrond (and/or elros) having an absolutely massive identity crisis upon being reintroduced to his quote-unquote ‘true kin’ is another angle i’d love to see in fic that i don’t think i’ve ever come across. all those potential grey areas around who they are and who they’re supposed to be sound utterly fascinating, and i think it’s the complexity i hate to see elided over the most

i really, really doubt they could effortlessly slot back into being eärendil and elwing’s children. not when they’ve been surrounded by, lived alongside, been raised by the people who were supposed to enemies for most of their lives

they just don’t fit into that box any more. they can’t

speaking of eärendil and elwing, while i do agree that they both (especially elwing) get a lot more flak than they deserve, i don’t agree that therefore elrond and elros were never the slightest bit mad at them and fully forgave them for everything with no reservations

because, well, they were left behind. elwing had no other choice, but they were still left behind; it led to the world being saved, but they were still left behind. all the best intentions in the universe don’t erase the weeks and months and years of waiting, of a hope that grew thinner and frailer until it finally quietly broke

that’s a real hurt, and a real grievance. even if the twins rationally understand that their parents were making the best out of their terrible situation, you can’t logic away emotions like that. it’s perfectly possible for them to know they have no reason to resent eärendil or elwing, and yet still harbour that bitterness and pain

(i did write a thing once where elrond loudly rejects eärendil as his father in favour of maglor, but something i didn’t add in that i probably should have is that elrond later regretted doing that)

(not like, several centuries later, when he’d grown old and wise. two hours later, when he’d calmed down. but he was still legitimately angry at eärendil, because the one thing angry teenage elrond was not lacking in was reasons to be mad at the adults around him, and before he could figure out if he had anything less furious to say the hosts of the valar left middle-earth behind)

(it’s another element to the tragedy of the whole thing. in that particular story, which is mostly aiming for maximum pain, the only thing elrond’s birth parents know about their son for thousands of years is that he hates them)

(and he doesn’t, not really. you can’t hate someone you’ve never known)

not that i think they couldn’t ever make up with their parents! fics where elrond and his birth parents work past all the things that lie between them and form a functional familial bond despite it all give me life. i just don’t like the idea that there’s nothing difficult for them to work past

i don’t like the idea that elrond and elros would naturally, effortlessly identify with the mother they last saw when they were six and the people they only vaguely remember. i can see them doing it as a political move, i can see them going for it as a deliberate personal choice, but i can’t seeing it being immediate and automatic and easy

no matter how great a pair of heroes eärendil and elwing are, that doesn’t change the fact that to elrond and elros, they’re at most a few scattered memories and a collection of far-off stories. and so long as the twins stay in middle-earth, they’re never going to draw any closer

compared to the dynamic, multifaceted, personal, and deep bonds they have with the fëanorians - who, and i know i keep saying this but i think it gets tossed aside way more casually than it should, are the people who actually raised them, their birth parents must feel like a distant idea

and that’s why i can never buy interpretations of elrond as 100% sindarin, a pure son of doriath, with no messy grey areas or awkward jagged edges to his identity. given everything we know about his life, it seems almost cartoonishly simplistic

honestly it seems like a narrative a bunch of old doriathrin nobles trying to manouevre elrond into being high king of the sindar or something would propagate. it's neat and nice and tidy, something that’d be much more convenient for everyone if elrond did feel that way

but i just don’t see how he can. this narrative is easy and simple in a way real people never are, it ignores all the forces pulling him apart. elrond being uncomplicatedly sindarin with the life he lives and the people he's close to - that doesn’t make any sense to me

which isn’t to say i think he’s 100% noldorin, from either a gondolindrim or a fëanorian perspective. (i find it a little more believable, given, again, who he grew up around and who he hangs out with, but it’s still a bit too reductive for my tastes.) it’s also not to say i couldn’t believe an elrond who made an active choice to emphasise his sindarin heritage

it’s not how i think of him, but it works. i don’t have a problem with other people interpreting the complexities of the twins’ identities differently

i just have a problem with people acting like it doesn’t exist

in general i think there’s a lot untapped potential that gets left behind when you declare the twins, separately or together, as All One Thing

they’re descended from half the noble houses of beleriand, and they have deep personal ties to most of the rest. they belong to all of the free peoples even the dwarves, somehow, probably and i feel like that was kind of the old man’s point? so many peoples meet in them, to say they wholly belong to any one species is probably an oversimplification

they sit at a crossroads of potential identities, and rather than narrowing down their worldviews to one single path, they take the hard road and choose all of them. that’s what you need to do, if you want to change the world

and, to bring this back to my ostensible topic, in my estimation at least this mélange of possible selves does include them as fëanorians! it’s not overpowering, but it’s certainly there, and the adults they grow into long after they’ve left the host still bear influence from their childhood

nothing super obvious, nothing that wouldn’t stand out if you didn’t know what to look for, but there’s something almost incandescent in how fiercely elros reaches out for his dreams

there’s something almost defiant in elrond’s drive to be as kind as summer

as for who they publically claim as their family... honestly, it depends. while it’s usually more tactically prudent for elros to connect himself to his various human ancestors, on occasion he does find a use for his free in with the elf mafia, and elrond, code switcher par excellence, is famously the son of whoever is most politically convenient at the moment, which is rarely, but not never, maglor

(in the privacy of their own minds, well, eärendil and elwing may have been the parents elros was supposed to have, but maglor was the parent he actually had, and elros doesn’t particularly care to mope over what might have been. elrond, for his part, figures that after all the shit maglor has put him through, the least that bastard owes him is a father)

but honestly? i think before any of their mountain of identities, before thinking of themselves as sindarin or gondolindel or hadorian or haladin or fëanorian or anything, elrond and elros identify as themselves

they are peredhil, they are númenóreans, they are whoever they make themselves to be. that’s how elrond finally resolved his identity, figured out who he was and found something past the pain and the rage

he wasn’t doriathrin, or gondolindrin, or falathrin, or fëanorian, or whatever else. he was elrond, no more and no less

and that person, elrond, could be whatever he chose to be

... elros came to a similar conclusion, with much less sturm und drang that he’s willing to admit. being able to go ‘hey, i can’t possibly be biased towards any one of your cultures, because i’m descended from all of you and i was raised by murderelves’ makes it a lot easier to unite people around your personal banner, turns out

the stories other people tried to force on them shattered into pieces, and the peredhel twins were free to shape themselves into anything they could dream of

and as the new world struggles alive, these lost children of an Age of death begin to bloom into their full glorious selves -

i just. i love the poetry of that. despite every single shadow that hangs over their past, despite all the clashing notes pulling them apart, they harmonise it all into a greater, kinder theme, determined to make their world a better place in whatever way they can

they fail, of course, but so do all things. the inevitable march of entropy doesn’t diminish the long millennia they (and their descendants) held onto the light

and their growing up in the fëanorian host definitely had a huge effect on the noble lords they became. you can see it in elros’ loud ambition to create a land of happiness and hope, elrond’s quiet resolve to heal all the hurts inflicted by this marred reality

it wasn’t a perfect time by any means, but neither was it a nightmare. it was what it was, a desperate existence at the edge of a knife where, nevertheless, they were loved

even after years upon decades upon centuries have passed, it’s hard for the wise king and the honourable sage to separate out and identify all the conflicting emotions swirling around their childhood. they never knew eärendil or elwing, true, but they also never really knew maglor

not as equals, not as adults, not as people who could truly understand him. he disappeared into the fog of history, leaving only childhood memories of razor-sharp, gentle hands

it’s messy and it’s complicated and getting any real closure would be like shoving their way through a thornbush with bare hands even if elrond could find the shithead, and yet at the core of it all, there is light. not the brightest of lights, maybe, but an enduring one

that contrast, above all, that note of warmth amidst the shadows, is what fascinates me so much about their relationship. three screwed up people in a screwed up world, finding a little peace with each other

and the fact that somehow, it does have a good ending - the children grow up magnificent and compassionate and just, they become exemplars of all their peoples, lodestars of the new world born out of the ashes of the old - that makes it seem to me like this relationship must have contained some fragment of happiness

but, fuck, all the darkness that surrounds that love, all the tangled-up emotions its existence necessitates, all the prefabricated self-identities it can never slot into - nothing about it is simple, nothing about it is easy, and i find that utterly enthralling. especially how, despite everything, that flickering light never goes out

well, i don’t think it does, anyway. my take on this relationship is both complicated enough no one else ever quite gets it right and well-defined enough every single ‘error’ in other people’s interpretations sticks out like a kinslayer in rivendell

it is an entirely self-inflicted problem, i will admit. other people are allowed to interpret those complexities differently from me, and it’s entirely my own fault i lack the :waves hands around nebulously: to write my own hypothetical fic on the subject at a pace faster than glacial

still, though. i do wish there was more fic out there that engaged with these complexities. a lot of the common fandom interpretations of this relationship just sweep it all away

[yanderecrazysie]

Rigged [DEAL WITH THE DEVIL COLLAB]

Pairings: Tsukishima Kei x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, attempted murder, DUBCON, mentions of baby trapping, mentions of breeding, manipulation, swearing, Tsukishima being kind of a jerk

Special: This is for the Deal With The Devil collab with one of my favorite authors on tumblr: @seijorhi and a bunch of other awesome tumblr authors!

Notes: I’ve never written this far into NSFW before, so I hope this turns out okay! O_O I hope you guys enjoy eek! It turned out a LOT longer than I expected, too.

Summary: You didn’t want to go to him for help but you had no other choice. It’s just too bad his game was rigged from the start.

rig

/verb/

manage or conduct (something) fraudulently so as to produce a result or situation that is advantageous to a particular person.

“I’m heading out, Dad!” The wane smile that forced its way onto your face stretched your cheeks and chapped lips in a way that hurt almost as much as the insincerity behind it. Your father saw right through your facade, of course, but there was no way he could guess how much more difficult it was to produce today than any of the previous days.

Walking out of that rundown shabby shack, your bare feet leaving imprints in the dusty soil under you… as unfortunate as this turn of events was, you knew that you couldn’t go on this way. Not for your sake, but your family’s. Your father’s.

The obsidian-black vehicle silently waiting for you looked anything but welcoming. Your once-confident footsteps faltered as your legs began to tremble. “You can do this” became “you have no other choice”. And, God, the knowledge that your choices were gone sent endless blows to your heart.

You had never been so thankful for silence as you were on the ride to your doom. No awkward chitchat or pleasantries were exchanged between the driver and yourself. It was much better that way. Talking meant thinking and thinking meant dwelling on the reason you would be talking to the chauffeur in the first place.

The walk through the mansion was just as silent as the ride there, but a part of you was less comforted by the quiet this time. Now, you wanted nothing more than to distract yourself from your surroundings.

So big, so beautiful, and so horrible. It reminded you so much of your old home- one that you could never step foot in again. Reduced to rubble beyond repair.

How ironic that a once-successful architect lost his house (and fortune) to a small storm. Your father’s work opportunities reduced to rubble as well.

Truly beyond repair.

You were standing in front of him much too quickly for your liking.

“My, my, my, (Y/n), I thought you were done with this sort of work. What brings you to me with such a sudden, desperate request for employment?”

You bit your tongue so viciously that the coppery taste of blood seeped into your wounded taste buds, “My family isn’t doing too well financially, so I thought it would be best to get a job… Tsukishima.”

Bile rose in your throat with the choked force you used to utter his name. He truly made you sick.

“‘Not doing too well financially’,” the tall man mocked your words, a mischievous smirk spreading across his lips, “I’d say that’s quite the understatement. I’ve heard that every company within 200 miles has turned him down. Probably because he’s too incompetent to build his own house correctly.”

You wanted to defend your father. You wanted to scream at the disgustingly smug man before you. You wanted to ask why the fuck he chose your family to target for his sadistic amusement.

But you couldn’t.

Not if you wanted to put food on your family’s table for your mother, father, little brothers, and you to survive another day.

“No one in town will hire me, as I’m sure you’re well aware. You said you had a job for me and you’re the only one who will hire me.”

The only one who will hire me because you’ve spread rumors about every member of my family to every business in this damned town.

Tsukishima raised an eyebrow, his smirk becoming even more mocking somehow, “What makes you think I’d hire you?”

Your heart sank.

“I mean,” he continued, cutting off any attempt at a rebuttal, “your skills are pathetic, really. You suck at everything you do. I could easily find a decent assassin in the back alley of this street. In fact, I could probably pay him less than what you’re begging for, too.”

“Please, Tsukishima,” your voice came out in a pitiful whimper that made your insides twist in self-revulsion, “I need this… I’ll do anything… just please.”

A noncommittal hum was your answer, prompting you to fall to your knees and truly beg. In that moment, you hated yourself more than you ever had. But you had no other choice.

“Please, please, please Tsukishima, I’ll do anything, please…” you were bawling, salty streams running down your face and dripping to the expensive carpet you kneeled on.

He heaved a sigh and lazily slid his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “Fine. But I do want you to agree to one condition. In writing.”

“Yes?” your head perked up, your heart soaring in a sudden whirlwind of hope that had your head spinning from the emotional whiplash.

A prewritten paper was pushed across the wooden desk he sat at, graced with his delicate handwriting. The page’s contents froze the blood in your veins, but, regardless, you signed your name on the line he wordlessly indicated.

“If I fail to complete the assassination of Yamaguchi Tadashi within the allotted time (one week), I agree to surrender my life to Tsukishima Kei.”

That last line sent shivers down your spine, but...

You had no other choice.

But, even as you internally repeated the reassurance on the ride back to the pile of sticks you called home, you deflated with the confidence you were losing bit by bit.

You kind of wished the chauffeur talked during this car ride.

This time the silence was deafening.

One week. That was more time than you’d ever been given. The previous record was five days. This assassination should have been a piece of cake.

So why was this one so much more difficult than any you’d had before?

All you really had to go off was a picture Tsukishima had shown you and a name. A few tips from some… unsavory… people had you standing in front of the Yamaguchi household within the same day.

But those damned rich people had security so tight you almost wondered if they knew you were coming. You didn’t make it to the window you planned to sneak through before security was tossing your ass onto the sidewalk you started on.

Another tip came through, letting you know that the humiliating experience was for all for nothing. The Yamaguchi family was vacationing abroad in England. You had no money for a plane ticket, so the struggle of becoming a stowaway befell you.

Three days into the mission and you had no idea where to find your target and an entire country to search.

Then a tip came through! It wasn’t a vacation, but a business trip! Yamaguchi was pitching a million-dollar idea to a company miles away from the airport. Hitchhiking was never fun, but it was necessary this time around.

Unfortunately, it turned out Tadashi’s father was the Yamaguchi that was meeting with the company. “Questioning” his father led you to a new destination.

The damned man was in Brazil, catching up with some of his old friends.

You were on the fifth day by the time you made it there. Sweltering heat, the only food in your belly being food scraps from garbage cans, and exhaustion… but worst of all, you still had no idea where Yamaguchi was.

A few more tips and you miraculously found the group of friends meeting up, but no one matched the picture you were given. Not a single one of them knew where Yamaguchi was, saying that they hadn’t seen him in a couple years.

You should have guessed his father had lied and you berated yourself on your mistake. On the trip back to Japan, a sickening feeling swirling in your belly overtook you, only worsened tenfold when you looked at the time.

11:46 pm. The end of the seventh day, and, subsequently, your life was less than 15 minutes away. All you wanted to do was sneak off to your family for one last goodbye...

Tsukishima was waiting for you in the airport lobby, his obvious smirk screamed “victory” to you. You trailed behind him like a leashed puppy being led by its owner through the pouring rain.

Time was up, so it was time to die.

You had no other choice.

“So,” Tsukishima sat at the mahogany desk, his grin too much for you to look at, “I believe seven days have passed and, according to our contract, that means you’ve failed to complete your objective in time.

Your voice wavered, even as you held back the tears and straightened up, “I have a request, Tsukishima.”

“You’re not really in a position to bargain, you know,” he quirked an eyebrow upwards, but gave you an indulgent smile, motioning for you to continue with his hands, despite the contradiction in his words.

“When you kill me, can you please make sure my family gets some sort of money? I-I know I failed but… my little brothers are just children. They’re not old enough to get a job, even if our reputation would let them- I mean, the eldest of them won’t be an adult for five years…”

“You want to give back to your family?” Tsukishima hummed to himself, his expression impossible to read, “That’s noble of you, but I’d expect nothing less.”

He straightened up in the leather chair, his smirk fading into a smile that seemed surprisingly gentle… fond, even, “I’ll give money to your family after you die, alright?”

You nodded silently, not trusting your voice. Your lip quivered as you let the tears flow freely from your eyes. Tears not just of terror, but of relief. At least your failure would still benefit your family, which was your goal in the first place.

You just wouldn’t be there to enjoy it with them.

“(Y/n).” His voice still held that victorious smugness in the tone, but the pitch was softer, almost as though he was soothing a child or calming a stray cat. Your eyes were too blurry with tears to see anything more than his figure rounding the desk and approaching you.

“Can… can my death be quick and painless? I know I-I’m asking a l-lot b-but-” you burst into tears, blubbering too much to get the words out. It was… it was real. You were going to die. You were never going to hug your dad, help out your mom, and play with your little brothers again. Their faces flashed through your head as your vision blurred more under the flood of tears.

“I’m not going to kill you.”

You couldn’t believe what you’d just heard. Surely you were imagining that he’d said you weren’t going to die at his hands, right? You were in denial, or something, right?

The tall blond must have recognized the confusion on your tear-stained face, because he repeated exactly what you’d thought he said, “I’m not going to kill you.”

He leaned in close, his warm breath playing across your cheeks and cooling the salty tears that wettened them. His slender fingers slid under your chin and angled your head to face yours.

His eyes. Oh God, the expression in them… You’d never seen this look in Tsukishima’s golden eyes before and it shook you to the core. Protected by just a thin barrier of glass were his golden-brown eyes, the pupil blown wide with soft adoration.

That expression… it reminded you of the time your youngest brother found the cutest little white kitten in the alley near their shack. Before your mother dismissed the idea of keeping it (there were too many mouths to feed already), his eyes shimmered with excitement and love for the tiny bundle of fur he cradled in his arms and cuddled his face into.

The same expression… it matched how Tsukishima was looking at you now. As if you were the only thing in the world that mattered and he finally had gotten it.

You were fucking terrified.

“The contract said ‘I agree to surrender my life to Tsukishima Kei.’ It didn’t specify that I’d kill you, only that your life would belong to me. That you would belong to me.”

“W-why?” This was all too much… you felt like your head might explode from the spinning tornado of jumbled thoughts whirling through your brain.

His hand wrapped around yours and you allowed him to lead you from the office room, too numb to fight back against him. While you walked, he explained himself to you, his tone holding barely-contained excitement in every syllable. It made you nauseous.

“I’ve loved you for a really long time you know… you barely even noticed me, despite all of our classes together. I signed up for every single one of your classes, even though our majors were different. But did you ever try to keep our conversations going? Or reach back out to me like I did to you? No, not even once.”

His voice grew darker as anger replaced excitement, “So I had your mansion demolished, then spread those rumors about your family. I mean, I know you already knew about the rumors, you’re not stupid after all…”

He… he did this? It wasn’t the storm after all?

“But when I saw your devastated expression I… I realized I didn’t do that for revenge. I didn’t like seeing your suffering as much as I thought I did. I wasn’t over you, and I’m still not. I devised a plan to finally bring you back to me, but you remained so stubborn.”

He gritted his teeth for a moment, then relaxed, “But you’re here now, and that’s all that mattered. Yamaguchi Tadashi is my best friend, I made sure he knew about my plan and he was more than willing to help. I hid him in Brazil and placed guards around him and his house, just in case. They were ordered not to kill or badly hurt you.”

So that’s why they didn’t do anything to me except kick me out… and they really did know I was coming…

“I had people all over give you false tips to lead you astray. Plane trips to other countries can take a long time, can’t they?”

It was your turn to grit your teeth, but you sure as hell weren’t relaxing afterwards.

“You weren’t actually supposed to go to Brazil, but my spies made sure to alert Yamaguchi before you found him, so he wouldn’t be surprised when you showed up. He told me you came right up to him and asked if he’d seen himself! He lied straight through his teeth, obviously. That picture I gave you, by the way, is a random stock photo. I was honestly surprised you didn’t Google him or anything, but it worked out for me. You didn’t recognize him at all.”

He led you into what appeared to be his bedroom, judging by the king-sized bed in the center of the room.

“Now, my sweet (Y/n), get on your knees.”

You knew what was going to happen to you at this point. If his big supervillain-esque reveal wasn’t enough of a giveaway, the lust clouding his eyes sealed the deal.

There was no point in fighting him, so you dropped to your knees. Tsukishima eagerly unbuttoned and unzipped his dress pants, tugging out his hardened cock. It was long and veiny with a flushed tip. It wasn’t very thick, but its length made up for its girth.

“You know what I want you to do, don’t you?”

The legally-binding contract, Tsukishima’s influence, and your family’s safety- you had no other choice. Your hand reached out and your fingers wrapped around the shaft, your lips wrapping around the rounded tip.

Tsukishima let out a pleasured sigh above you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look up at him. Humiliated, you forced yourself to take him into your mouth, gagging when his hips moved forward and the tip hit the back of your throat.

He hissed out praises while you reluctantly sucked his dick, nausea stirring in your stomach at the taste of his salty precum on your tongue. Finally, he gently pushed your head away, and you risked a look up at his face.

The once-composed, proper-looking stoic man looked like an absolute mess. His glasses were slightly askew and his face was bright red. He was panting- ragged loud breaths that blew across your face in uneven waves of air.

A shudder rolled through him and one of his trembling hands pointed at the large bed. “Strip and lay on your back.”

As you fumbled with your clothes, hot tears rolling down your face, his eager words assaulted your ears from behind you as he rambled on about you both, “You don’t need your old family, we’ll start our own! I need to continue the Tsukishima family line, and you’re good with your little brothers, so you’ll be great with our child! And we’re finally going to make love… oh God, (Y/n), I’ve been waiting years for this.”

You didn’t want to have a child with him. You didn’t want to be raped. You didn’t want this twisted infatuation he had for you, but...

You had no other choice.

[luminnara]

It’s Been a Long, Long Time | Ch 8 NSFW 18+ ONLY

Summary:  When HYDRA had their prized asset, the Winter Soldier, they did something no one ever thought was possible: they gave super soldier serum to an omega. With the sole purpose of tending to him during his ruts, she spends decades living in HYDRA facilities, denied her humanity and her life. Now, years later, Bucky Barnes has his mind and his own life back...and the last thing he ever expects is to see a familiar omega again. Bucky/OC, a little angsty but mostly smutty/fluffy/romantic!

Part One | .... | Part Nine

Warnings: A/b/o, knotting, nsfw, sexy stuff, some weight related talk

Tags:  @kyrah-williams @oceanmermaidwitch @shawnie--jo @super-cape @ferxaniti @namjoonwatcheshentai @fandomsstolemylife00 @youngblood199456 @nightlygiggless @darlingely @ bluemoon-icecream @kaz11283 @jenjen8675309 @dollfacev8 @witchinpractice @mystical-b3ar @sukeraa @momc95 @book-lover-2006 @rebekkah119 @lupinpetersclearwaterodairparker

“I never got the chance to do this back in the day, you know.”

“Oh yeah?” Bucky grunted. 

“Mhm. You were always more the…’turn around, I’m mounting you here and now’ type.”

“Can’t imagine why.” He mumbled. 

Bucky was on his back, his wrists tied to the bedposts. It was something he would consider a compromising position, all of his decades of training and his own instincts telling him that he was too exposed and therefore in danger. 

He trusted her, though, and because of that, he liked it. There was something sexy about being bound with your own leather belt, especially when a cute little omega was the one doing the tying. 

“The big, scary Winter Soldier, on his back? For me?” Amoretta teased, as if she hadn't been the one who put him there. 

“Don’t get used to it,” he growled. 

“Unless you decide you love it,” She purred, ghosting a hand over his abs. 

He tensed and then flexed. “I love anything involving you, doll.”

She let out a light, twinkling laugh. “Flexing? You’re such a show off. You don’t have to prove how tough you are to me, I already know.”

“Can’t help it.” He growled again.

She hummed quietly, sliding her hand up to his chest. “You’re just a big teddy bear.”

“I’m not a bear,” Bucky huffed, looking at her incredulously, as if the thought was absolutely ridiculous. 

“No?” Amoretta asked. “Then what are you? A big pussycat?”

“The Wakandans call me White Wolf.”

“A wolf, huh? Nonna always used to say you can never tame a wolf.” She laid on his chest, looking up at him. “I don’t think I want to, though. I want you wild and free.”

“...you flipped me over and tried to hogtie me.”

“Well...yeah. But I wanna try being on top!”

Her little whine was just too cute for him to argue with.

“Then why don’t you get up and fuckin’ ride me?” He snapped, trying to encourage her to actually get a move on.

“Because I want to make you wait,” Amoretta purred, stretching up to nip at his earlobe while one of her hands drifted down his stomach. “I’ve never gotten to be with you when you aren’t all rut-crazy. I want to play with you…”

“Then do it faster!” He let his head fall back onto the pillows with a frustrated groan as her fingers brushed over his pelvis. 

He was hard again, and all he wanted to do was bury himself inside of her and knot her again and again and again. He ached for her, impatient, breathy huffs and growls leaving his throat as he squeezed his eyes shut. She was a tease. Of course she was a fucking tease. At the rate things were going, she would be able to get him to do absolutely anything by the time the night was over, as long as it meant that he could feel the way her pussy milked his cock.

“The more impatient you are, the slower I’ll go,” she cooed, ghosting her nails around the base of his shaft. 

Bucky snorted angrily, picking his head up again to look at her. “At least use your mouth. I’m dyin’ here.”

“Hey, I’m in charge right now,” she reminded him. 

She slid down the bed anyways. 

There was already a big bead of precum on the tip of his cock, and when she swept her tongue over it, he let out the loudest, deepest, filthiest moan she had ever heard. The sound had her pressing her thighs together, desperately trying to ignore the slick that was pooling onto the sheets beneath her as she gave him another taste. She wanted to be in charge for once, and at the moment, that meant trying to control her own urges while she teased her alpha. 

His groans and growls were reverberating through his whole body as she wrapped her lips around his cock. He wanted to grab her hair and guide her head, but every time he tried to move, he was reminded that his wrists were bound and he had nowhere to go.

It was frustrating. 

“Fuck,” he moaned, defeated. “Take it all...c’mon, doll, please…I know you can…”

His encouragement made her hum happily as her head bobbed up and down. Each time, she took more and more of him into her throat, until her nose was pressing against his pelvis and drool was running down her chin. 

Bucky was trying his hardest to stay still. He wanted to enjoy the moment, not fuck it up, but god, did he want to absolutely rail her throat. With his hands literally tied, though, all he could do was try to roll his hips up towards her, desperately trying to thrust in and out of her mouth and maintain some semblance of control. 

Amoretta was taking it in stride, relaxing her throat and holding onto his thighs to steady herself. Her tongue was slipping around his cock, her spit dripping down onto his balls as he let out a symphony of dirty sounds that ranged from needy to furious. 

“Please,” he whined. “Fuck, baby, please...untie my hands, let me cum….”

She looked up at him with those big doe eyes, and it was enough to make him unravel. Seeing her there between his legs, her perfect lips wrapped around his cock, was probably the sexiest thing he had ever seen. 

And it was just for him. 

“Fuck…” he moaned, his voice low as he came into her throat. His hips pressed forward with each wave that passed through him, the feeling of her throat tightening and swallowing only urging him to give her every last drop he had. 

Amoretta had never gotten to swallow with him before. When he was rutting, he never wanted her to waste even a bit of his seed, but for her first time, she felt like she did pretty well. It helped that she was addicted to the taste and the smell of his cock at this point, his musky scent filling her nose and practically making her purr. She wanted to drown in it, or at least roll around until she was completely drenched. 

“You better get up here.” Bucky growled as she let his cock pop out of her mouth, a little string of saliva following behind. 

“Or what?” She licked her lips, savoring the taste of him. 

He answered with a dangerously low snarl as she crawled over him. “Just sit on my fuckin’ face already.”

She bit her lip in anticipation as she made her way up to his head. He was quick to reach up for her, his tongue finding her cunt and encouraging her to sink down onto him with lap after lap. He went at it like he didn’t know when he’d get the chance to again, eagerly licking up the fresh slick coating her inner thighs and pausing for the occasional nip here and there.

Amoretta gasped and huffed, grabbing hold of his hair as she started rocking her hips. She didn’t know where he had learned to give such good head, but she wasn’t about to complain, not when his tongue was dipping in and out of her like that. 

“I-I didn’t know alphas ever did this,” she laughed breathlessly, grinding herself down against his mouth. 

He answered with a deep moan of appreciation. Honestly, if he could stay there like that forever, he would be a happy man. Her taste was absolutely intoxicating, and as he sucked at her clit, the sounds she let out were no less incredible. 

“Fuck,” She sighed, leaning her head back as she felt her stomach flutter. “I wanna cum…”

Bucky growled, the sound vibrating through her. His tongue found her clit one more, teasing it, flicking it, chasing it whenever her hips bucked away from him. He could taste more and more slick as it ran into his mouth, and judging by the whines and moans above him, he was doing a damn good job of eating her out.

“Fuck, Fuck, Fuck…” She whispered, desperately rolling her hips against him. 

He was ready, eagerly anticipating a flood of slick, but just as Amoretta felt herself getting close, she forced herself up and off of his face. 

“N-not yet,” she panted, shuffling back down to straddle his waist.

His cock was already hard again, his hips flexing as he desperately tried to thrust into her. Bucky watched, licking slick off his lips, as his omega slowly guided him into her, his cock slipping inside of her dripping cunt effortlessly. 

She was so warm and so fucking perfect, and as she rose up and then sank down on him again, Bucky thrust upwards. He matched her, letting her choose her pace, and as she rode him, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her face. 

Her mouth was open, gasps and moans falling from her lips. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes closed, and as he pushed up even further into her, she bit her lip to silence a cry. 

“Don’t be quiet, doll,” he panted. “I want this whole damn tower to hear you.”

“James,” she moaned, leaning down to kiss him. “James, Alpha…”

He used her change in angle to his advantage, taking the opportunity to fuck up into her hard. 

“Come on, baby…” he panted against her mouth. “Drain my cock, lemme breed you…”

“Y-yes, Alpha,” She moaned, burying her face against his neck. He was so deep, the head of his cock pressing against her cervix in a way she couldn’t manage to describe. He was just filling her, completely, until he was the only thing she could think about. His scent, the taste of the sweat on his skin, his growls and moans...he was everything. 

Amoretta was completely wrapped up in him, surrounded by him, drunk on the musky, heady scent he was giving off. She was vaguely aware of the way he chanted her name, his voice low and husky as he huffed and panted. 

“Let go, baby,” he mumbled. He was getting close, he could tell, but he was trying to hold out for her. “Cum for me, cum for your alpha…”

She whined, pleasure coiling in her belly. “I—I wanna, I’m—I’m so close—“

The sound of her voice was almost too much, his knot already beginning to swell. She could feel it catching on her and let out a loud wail, her pussy clamping down and squeezing his cock as she felt that delicious, tingling electricity spreading through her. 

“That’s it,” he moaned, his back arching. “Fuck, ‘m gonna…gonna breed ya, omega…”

She answered with breathy gasps, her thighs shaking as an orgasm wracked her body. His knot was swelling quickly, and a few thrusts later, he let out the lowest, most guttural groan she had heard yet. She tilted her head for him and he latched onto her throat, sucking and biting at her wherever he could, leaving a trail of sloppy hickeys behind. 

He came again, hips stuttering as he filled her. They shared a long, satisfied sigh, and as his knot locked them together, they finally had the chance to catch their breath. 

“Wow,” Amoretta breathed, smiling down at him as she sat up. 

“Yeah,” he pressed his head back against the pillows. “Wow…”

As Amoretta tried to situate herself and get comfortable, she suddenly laughed. “Oh no…”

“What?” Bucky picked his head up again. 

He saw her reaching forward, her hand a significant distance from his bound wrists. 

“...you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Oops,” She laughed, letting her hand fall to his chest. “I didn’t think this through.”

“I cannot believe you got us stuck here like this.”

“You could just break them—“

“Absolutely not!” He growled. “I like this belt!”

“Then yeah, I got us stuck here like this.”

“Jesus Christ.” He groaned, head flopping back down. 

Amoretta settled down and got comfy, resting on his chest. “Soon as your knot goes down, I’ll free you. Promise.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He grumbled. “I, uh…liked it.”

She grinned. “I knew you would.”

“We can, uh...do more of this.” he cleared his throat. “If you want.”

“You look pretty good, all desperate on your back like that,” she teased. “You’re still bossy, though…” she clucked her tongue, chastising him. “You should try being more obedient for a change.”

“Don’t push your luck.” Bucky growled. 

“Why not?” she reached up to scratch at his chin. “You might like taking orders.”

“...Only from you.”

“See?”

“Maybe.” he huffed a laugh. “We’ll see.”

Amoretta hummed and nodded. Her heart was still pounding, but as they both calmed down, they sat in a peaceful silence. She could hear Bucky’s own heart hammering away in his chest, his skin covered in a sheen of sweat from his physical exertion. He wanted to go at it again when his knot went down, but he also wanted a shower, and maybe a snack. He wanted to make sure that Amoretta ate some real food, too, and as he looked down at her as she laid on his chest, he felt discontent rising. She was thinner than he remembered, not skin and bones but still not as healthily curvy as he wanted his omega. He needed to start providing for her, making sure she was well fed and happy. Besides, what better way was there to start courting a girl than by making her good food?

“What’re you thinking about?” she asked, pulling him away from his thoughts. 

“You.” he answered, his voice a low rumble. 

His lips spread into a wide smile, but when she spoke, she was practically whispering. “You sure?”

“Course I am. Why wouldn’t I be thinkin’ about my girl?” he tried to wrap his arms around her but scowled when he remembered he was still stuck. “You doubting me while my knot is stuck inside you?”

“No.” she shook her head, resting his cheek against him. 

“...You nervous?”

Amoretta bristled at the insinuation, then nodded hesitantly. “A little…”

“‘Bout what, doll?”

“Everything, I guess. This is a whole different world from the one I’ve been living in for so long. I mean, there’s a robot in the ceiling.”

“She’s actually an AI--”

“That might be worse.” Amoretta snorted. “It’s just a lot.”

“I know.” Bucky sighed. “Trust me, I know.”

She looked up at him. “You’re so much...softer, I guess, when you’re not rutting.”

“You never really met the real me back then.” He shifted his eyes away from her. “The Winter Soldier wasn’t...me.”

“I still liked him.” she inhaled deeply, filling her head with his scent. “And I like you.”

“Good,” he said, chest rumbling in a happy purr. “Because I’m not letting you go anytime soon.”

[devildomimagines]

Request: How the Demon Brothers React to a Very Competent Caretaker MC

The prompt: MC has to take care of lots of siblings back in the human world. Not, like, 6 or 7 siblings, but TWENTY-FOUR!! MC can multitask like no one’s business and can easily take care of any problem that might arise with their siblings. MC is great at taking care of others and enjoys it. The hang-up is that when they come to Devildom, they suddenly find themselves with a lot of free time and aren’t really sure how to fill in those gaps since they were always dedicating themselves to others.

Anon! Your message was so sweet but I was having technical difficulties writing the post as an answer so I decided to just make a separate text post. Btw, your great-grandmother sounds like a total badass, what an inspiration! I hope you don’t mind my work around for the technical issues and I hope this lives up to what you were looking for!

Edit: I wrote this for the formerly Undateables as well, check it out here.

Belphegor

As the youngest he doesn’t completely understand but he does love his family (even if he doesn’t always show it).

He is kind of amazed with how competent MC is and how easily adaptable to the needs of him and his brothers.

He’s kind of selfish so oftentimes he abuses your nurturing nature.

After the events in the attic, Belphie does worry you’ll hold it against him, even subconsciously. You cut the tension one night by saying, "You can't kill me, I've survived my little sibling trying to play violin with a chainsaw!" The mental image makes him laugh.

Belphie would be the best brother to consult with if you want to learn to be a little selfish yourself. It doesn’t have to be a complete personality overhaul but there is value in knowing what you want and making those wants known to others.

While taking care of so many siblings, you never had the opportunity to take naps and he is offended! But secretly loves that he gets to show you the joys of a nap.

Beelzebub

Beel loves taking care of others, just a very loving boy. The two of you get along like peas in a pod. 

It’s very easy to fall into old habits around him because he has a personality that makes you want to care for him.

Since he’s so strong, he does fear hurting you by accident. You let him know, “I don't fear pain, I do my school homework upside-down while on a ladder changing the lamp." While it doesn’t totally extinguish his fears, the thought of that total body workout intrigues him enough to distract him.

If you want to fill some time, he would love to have you join him at the gym or come see his games.

Physical fitness and nutrition are fundamental to taking care of yourself and Beel would be the demon to go to to learn more if you’re interested. 

Also, I’m sure you would agree but cooking is a form of love so if you enjoy spending your free time baking and cooking, Beel will follow you around (for the treats lol). He’s said it before, if you know how to cook then he wants you to stay by his side.

Asmodeus

“Treat yo self” is his guiding principle. He is your demon to teach self-care.

If you’re looking for something to do, part of your time can be filled with his routines for skin care, hair care and mental health checks.

Casually you mentioned one day, “"Me, go to sleep? I'm the oldest sibling, I don't sleep, I worry with my eyes closed!"

“MC! You need to get your beauty rest!” He countered. I can imagine that he basically drags you to Belphie to figure out how to sleep better.

Although he has a lot of knowledge to offer, you are quick to pick it up and help him in braiding his hair out of his face or gently applying a face mask.

The fun part of learning from Asmo is that there’s always some new beauty product to try and he loves having a buddy to try it with. 

Satan

He’s amazed with everything you can do. He asks you to teach him how to do things he watches you do flawlessly.

He’s definitely curious to hear about what it’s like living with so many siblings, 6 seems like too many sometimes so 4 times that is completely unknown to him.

Satan was helping with some homework and suggested tackling an easier assignment first, you challenged him with, "Don't underestimate me, I managed to make a toddler spell pneumoultramicroscopicssilicovulcanoconiosis!"

He laughs as he confirms he wasn’t underestimating you, just trying to offer some guidance for efficiency.

You need something to pass time? Satan has enough books in his room to literally last your lifetime.

He can help you find any kind of book, simply let him know what you would be interested in and he probably has a suggestion.

Leviathan

He’s drawn to you and at first he doesn’t know why. Later he realizes it’s because you’re so good at listening where his brothers usually just ignore him.

Games and anime are a great time filler if you’re interested, he’s got all the best recommendations.

It might be tough to get into first if you’re not used to binge watching a series or gaming for hours on end.

When he apologizes for possibly annoying you with his rants you assure, "You can't annoy me, I've endured eight rebellious teenagers!"

I could imagine that you’d resonate with slice of life animes as an introduction to the genre and possibly adventure games with a good story would catch your attention.

Even if you’re not totally invested, he enjoys your presence since you’re not dismissing his interest.

Mammon

Listen, he’s a good older brother! Some of his personal decisions are questionable but he’s dependable when needed.

Definitely king of random interests so your well-rounded abilities are actually well suited to keeping up with whatever past time has piqued his interest this week.

Mammon would probably be confused when you see something during one of his shopping trips that you clearly want but refuse to buy. Eventually he builds it up enough (like the demon on your shoulder whispering in your ear lol) that you do end up getting it.

What you had first dismissed as Mammon being materialistic, you slowly come to realize because of him that you can surround yourself with things that bring you joy and so your days are filled with happiness.

He can get reckless so he appreciates your protection from Lucifer’s punishments and hides behind you like some of your siblings did at home.

He protects you too though! He stands up for you and points out things that are unfair to make you aware. 

Lucifer

Oldest sibling comradery from the get-go.

You’re both very responsible individuals and when you join forces, it’s like nothing is impossible.

He’s the one you go to the first couple weeks when you find yourself with free time. He’s sure to have something to be done to help fill the newfound free time.

Over time he comes to rely on you but he’s worried he’s overworking you with the tougher assignments. You made sure to remind him, "I have no difficulty with this task, I'm the oldest of twenty-four siblings!"

Lucifer recognizes your competence and he excels at boosting confidence and pride so don’t think you are not immune to that.

The more time you spend with him, the more you develop a stronger sense of self-worth and self-determination. He practically gushes pride at the sight of you defending yourself and claiming the value of your time near the end of the exchange program.

[whimsicallyreading]

You Don’t Even Go Here

Day Two for Rowaelin Month

A college AU

~

Aelin grins mischievously as she walks up the stairs of the men's dorm at Terresan University. The teal-blue waffle iron clutched under her arm.

Aedion didn't really need it. It had been on the fifty-percent-off rack at the supermarket, and he'd simply thrown it in the cart for good measure. Yet, when Aelin saw the box for it laying the hall, she'd seen opportunity.

It had hit her harder than she'd thought. Aedion leaving. They'd been raised like siblings but grew up something closer to best friends. It wasn't fair that he was nearly three years older and ready to leave when she wasn't prepared for him to go.

Aelin had cried the whole car ride home. Then when they finally got back to the house, she'd called him right away. He could hear how teary she was and happily obliged her call. Narrating his actions as he went about setting up his dorm room. He teased her about missing him, but she could tell that he missed her too.

So, armed with an excuse to visit him, Aelin made the hour-long drive to visit her cousin.

Aelin was halfway up the stairs but not paying too much attention to her surroundings. She was too busy repeating Aedion's room number over in her head because no matter how many times she checked her phone, it just wouldn't stick in her head. Maybe if she'd focused a little more on the things happening around her, she wouldn't have crashed into a half-naked man.

A solid and calloused hand darts out and grips her shoulder before she can go tumbling down the stairs. Its twin desperately clutching the towel wrapped around his waist.

Aelin looks up apologetically, and her jaw nearly falls to the floor. His white hair was still damp from the shower and swooped over the top of his head, and his biceps were too large for Aelin to wrap both hands around. An intricate tattoo coils elegantly from a cheekbone and down the length of his body.

He was a man indeed. Nothing like Chaol or Dorian or any of her junior friends. This was a new breed of man. The apex kind. Aelin is pretty sure she looks like a deer in the headlights, and she's too busy ogling him to understand the words he'd been repeating to her.

"Are you okay?" His eyebrows are furrowed as if he's afraid he'd literally struck her stupid. Aelin felt that wasn't far from the truth.

"Yes, sorry," she apologizes as she steps back, suddenly very aware of how in his personal space she was. "I wasn't paying attention. You just caught me by surprise."

Aelin was definitely panicking. Where was her swagger when she needed it most? Why would it choose now to abandon her?

By some miracle, he doesn't seem off-put by her awkwardness. In fact, a smile curls the edges of his lips, revealing a set of dimples that made her heart stumble.

Gods he had dimples.

"No, I ran into you. It's my fault. My name is Rowan.”

He holds out a hand, and Aelin shakes it clumsily. "I'm Aelin."

"Aelin." She loves the way her name rolls off his tongue. "I haven't seen you around before. Are you a freshman?"

Oh no. Aelin's eyes widen, but she recovers swiftly and smooths her features out. Rowan thinks she's a student. Not some crazy high schooler too emotionally dependent on her cousin.

"I'm actually a junior," Aelin laughs at his perplexed expression. "I don't go here, though. I'm just stopping by to drop off some things my cousin forgot."

White lies. What was a white lie worth? Aelin likely wouldn't ever see him again, and is it so wrong for a girl to enjoy some harmless attention? If Aelin spent more time thinking about it, she probably wouldn't like the answers she'd come up with, but that was neither here nor there.

"Is that a waffle maker?" Rowan's green eyes glint with amusement.

"My cousin loves to eat. What year are you?" Aelin crosses her fingers that he's the same age as Aedion and not a senior or something. Her cousin would murder her if he found out she flirted with a man five years older.

"Don't we all? I'm a sophomore, a bit younger than you, I suppose." Rowan drags a hand through his hair. "Listen, I know you came to see your cousin, but maybe I could get your number, and we could get a cup of coffee before you head out?"

Was this really happening? Aelin inwardly squealed with excitement. Lysandra would die when she recounted this story later. "Sure."

Just as she pulled her phone from her pocket, an all too familiar voice materialized behind her. "Aelin?"

Aedion smiles as he lays eyes on his beloved cousin. He takes a couple steps down the stairs, and that grin quickly fades as he sees the naked man.

Oops, she'd forgotten that detail.

"Rowan?" Aedion's eyes harden as they lock on Rowan. "Why the hell are you ogling my cousin with no clothes on?"

"You know him?" Aelin swears under her breath. She cannot believe her luck.

Aedion laughs coldly as he sizes up Rowan, "He's my roommate, but he's about to be a corpse. Why are you perving on my seventeen-year-old cousin?"

Rowan's looks between the bewildered. "You said you were a junior?"

Aedion laughs harshly as Aelin blushes. "I am...just in highschool. Not college. I told you I didn't go here."

"I didn't realize I was rooming with a pedophile," Aedion grabs Aelin and pulls her to his chest. "Was he bothering you?"

"Pedophile?" Rowan's dimples have disappeared, and he looks at Aedion disturbed. "I'm only nineteen!"

Aelin shoves away from Aedion's boorish grip. "The only one bothering me is you."

Rowan's cheeks are flushed red as the full impact of the situation they were found in dawns on him. Damn it if Aelin didn't find his blush endearing. He is a solid chunk of muscle. How is everything he does so cute?

"Look, I just got out of the shower, and I bumped into Aelin. It was an accident. She was just on her way to give you your waffle maker-"

"You brought my waffle maker?" Aedion cuts Rowan off, eyeing the box under her arm.

That's when Aelin sees it. The twinkle of mischief in his eye and the forced concern. Aedion was playing her. He obviously knew Rowan wasn't a creep and saw the perfect opportunity to cause chaos. Aelin scowls at him, and that spark grows brighter. It's moments like this she wonders why she ever missed her cousin in the first place.

Aedion tugs the box out of her grasp and smiles. "Wow. This is perfect timing. Vaughn and Fen were just talking about making breakfast for dinner." He looks at Aelin and forces a frown. "If I'd known you were coming, I would have invited you, but it would kind of be rude to bring a guest now."

"What?" Aelin sputters. She drove all this way, and he was really going to ditch her? It was embarrassing, but tears prickled at the edges of her eyes. He was an ass, but she obviously came because she missed him, and he didn't even care? She really thought they were closer than that.

"Yeah. Sorry, Lin." Aedion points at Rowan, who was just standing to the side, thoroughly uncomfortable. Yet, despite the awkwardness, he hadn't left. "Hey, you owe me one for creeping on my little cousin. Earn my trust back and see that she has something for dinner and gets to her car safely? She has my phone number, one bad text, and your ass is grass."

Aedion tosses her a wink, and it's all Aelin can do to keep from outright gaping. Rowan looks stunned, his eyes darting between the two Ashryvver's. They settle on Aelin for a moment too long. Some of the tension eases from his shoulders, and he smiles. "I think I can manage that."

"Good." Aedion turns back up the stairs pats the box. "Thanks for bringing it to me, Lin. I'll call you tomorrow, don't send me to voicemail."

Just like that, her cousin, a walking, talking agent-of-chaos, disappears back to wherever he came from.

"So," Rowan starts, "If you want, I know a perfect Italian place we could swing by, my treat seeing as I plowed into you."

Aelin frowns and fiddles with the end of her necklace. "You aren't upset that I lied?"

"You didn't lie." Rowan chuckles, a deep sound that sends a shiver of delight down Aelin's spine. "You don't go here."

Aelin tilts her head as if she's deeply considering the offer. "I suppose it couldn't hurt. What's good there?"

"They have an awesome kabob." Rowan tugs his towel tighter. "It's my favorite."

It's Aelin's turn to laugh. "Isn't that just meat on a stick?"

"Let's go, and I can show you how profoundly wrong you are," he moves to take a step down, but Aelin stops him with a hand to the shoulder. "What is it?"

Aelin points to his towel, "I don't think they will serve guests without pants."

The flush that Aelin loves his back full force as he scrambles the other direction up the stairs. "Shit. Give me five minutes. I'll be right back. Aedion better have not locked out or I swear-"

Rowan's embarrassed tirade quiets as he charges up to his dorm to change. Aelin smiling as he goes. She can't believe she's going out to dinner with a guy like that.

Opening her phone, she sends a quick heart emoji to her cousin. He instantly replies back with one of his own. Aedion may have moved to college, but he still had her back at the end of the day. Even if it wasn't in the most ideal way.

Rowan comes back down the stairs moments later, and she's not disappointed by what she sees. He took the time to put on a flannel shirt and comb some gel through his hair. While the view without clothes had been pleasant, Aelin could definitely appreciate this look too.

"I'm ready if you are," Rowan extends an arm to help her down the stairs.

It's such a fussy, old-man move, and she loves it.

"Let's go."

[natewriteslol]

The Wonders of Magic Pt. 1

Non magical!Twisted Boys x Witch!Reader

A/N: This has been sitting in my brain for a while since I have Little Witch Academia brainrot and I love snooty rich boys asdfljsfaj

Characters: Keep reading to find out!!

Warnings: Language and Y/N goes by she/her pronouns 

Summary: Dealing with magical adventures and society deeming magic as “flashy but worthless” doesn’t deter Y/N L/N from reaching her goal of becoming a powerful witch. However, what will she do when she has to find a way to stop the selling Calypso Academy? 

~~~

All your life you had dreamed of being a witch, however there was a slight problem. You weren't a magic user.

And as magic use had started to become more oppressed and scarce, magic schools were starting to open their doors to all walks of life. Making the most elite schools fall to their knees.

Either you lose your elite status or fall into debt.

So this was good opportunity for you, you managed to make it into one of the most renowned magic schools in the country, Calypso Academy. But it wasn't all peaches and cream, you weren't exactly accepted among your peers. Your family weren't magic users, nor were they wealthy. Yet you still pursued magic, there was a fire burning in your heart that just drew you in all your life. And you couldn't let your dream go just because of some mean girls. But this is the story of how you met some of your greatest obstacles.

 ~~~

It was the night of the great Ball, Calypso academy was having it's 350th anniversary. And you unlucky for you, you still didn’t know how to ride a broom since you were learning from the ground up. 

So there you were, by yourself, in one of the open fields of your campus. Trying to make this broom fly. 

And in your flight teacher Ms. Flint’s words, “If the broom doesn’t leave the ground, you can’t step a foot in the ball.” And so far, your feet have been stuck on the ground.

You felt horrible. I mean, what witch doesn’t know how to fly a broom? And while you were incredibly dejected

 from your failures, you knew you couldn’t just let it go. 

‘The trick it to be determined, yet feel as light as a feather. Be one with the broom’ your manifestation teacher, Mrs. Fairi had softly advised. You had to do this for for her, she already put so much faith in you, she would be so disappointed if she didn’t see you at the ball. 

“Nubes Volant ro!” You casted, pushing your leg to lift. Expecting your legs to come back down and for your shoes to hit the softness of the grass... but it never came.

You opened your eyes and there you were, suspended in air. 

Your excitement was indescribable, but you needed to be skilled enough to meet the requirements for Ms. Flint. So you tried and tried again, and while a little shaky you still managed to fly and do a stable landing! 

“I did it! Screw everyone in this academy who doubted me!” You  squealed a little loud, doing a little dance. You heard  footsteps and chuckling, but you brushed it off as some of your classmates. Too excited to care, you grabbed your things and ran off to show Ms. Flint.   But there was one problem, the entire point of this celebration was to both celebrate the anniversary but... it was begging as well. It was no secret that Calypso was losing money to pay taxes, but they were being pressured to give it all up. So to persuade the buyers, they had invited their son's to be enriched in witch culture and tradition. To prove them wrong and show that magic has value. However the students of the academy weren't aware of the true intentions behind the invites of the son's of these rich men. Many whispered in the halls about the upcoming ceremony. Talking about how handsome the young men attending were. But the day of the party was finally here! The banquet was absolutely incredible with 25 foot tables of food on both sides of the ballroom. Crystal chandeliers with floating candles illuminating and creating a heavenly golden light. And the great ancient tapestries that surrounded the room. There was no way that anything could mess up your night. 

But then, you heard a shout from a classmate in the crowd. "The nobles sons! They're here!" You stopped stuffing your face for a moment. Everyone cleared the way for the grand wooden doors as they opened, a red carpet elegantly draping the piece of floor it laid on. Designer shoes clicked as they touched the ground. Every girl eyes followed as they walked, you snuck past some trying to get a glimpse of their features. They were five of them being escorted by one older gentleman, all incredibly handsome young men. One had a bright smile that was genuine and waving at some of the girls in the crowd. While the other had a smirk not paying anyone any mind, as if he was calculating something. One held a solemn expression, yet was incredibly poised and graceful. The last two however wore scowls, one that showed he most definitely didn’t want to be here while the other just looked strict. 

They sat down in their seats in the front table that awaited them. Each seat was just as fancy as a king’s throne, with gold embellishments and velvet seats. 

It was a cookie cut scene, they were made for this life of luxury.

~~~

It was an hour into the ceremony, showcasing tricks and theatrical dances from every witch culture from around the globe. But it was almost as though nothing was satisfying them, besides the one with white hair. While he adorned a smile, there was something behind his eyes, as though he was doing some critical thinking. 

Nothing was enough for them. 

But it was toward the end and the noble’s sons were promised a tour. Every witch in the school was made to study up on knowledge of the campus. So that if you were the “lucky winner” you wouldn’t look like a complete fool. 

As you snacked on your chocolate filled croissant, Ms. Flint with her booming voice had called everyone’s attention to the center of the stage. Raising her wand, a split of golden light had displayed random names. 

Knowing your luck, you knew you wouldn’t be picked. I mean this was probably a tactic to get people to study the school’s magical history. It did work, as if there was a slight chance you were chosen you wouldn’t want to make a fool out of yourself in front of people like you usually did. But, Principal Hendrix wouldn’t be so irresponsible as to let a random student represent the school, right? 

Exactly. But even then, you sure did feel sorry for whoever was to give the tour-

“Y/N L/N!”

...

Remember what you said about shitty luck? 

Shocked was an understatement. Even though you had your two best and only friends Silva and Miete patting you on the back telling you congrats and to do your best, the hammering of your heart was too heavy for you to handle. 

Whispers broke out for a moment, a lot of girls were incredibly disappointed but cleared the way for you to go up the stairs and talk to Ms. Flint and Principal Hendrix. 

“Good job, Y/N. Now if you wouldn’t mind, please give these young men a tour of Calypso, would you?” Principle Hendrix said gently with a smile.

“Ha, ha, of course! But surely there’s been a mistake, I mean Lydia could probably recite the information without having to read a single book-” 

“No way, L/N. You were chosen, now do the tour please, the latest you can be back is at 9pm,” Ms. Flint replied, cutting you off sharply. 

“You’re an incredibly charismatic student, Y/N. Just keep them entertained,” Principle Hendrix whispered as you walked toward the table.

Be charismatic, not awkward! Got it!

“Alrighty then! Who’s ready for a tour?” you said, almost giving finger guns as a mechanism. 

“Oh, I am!” 

“Yes,  I’ve been wanting to see the range of this property in person.”

“Yes, I would like to get this over with. I have an appointment tomorrow and I would not like to miss it.”

Other than that, all you received was a nod and an eye roll. But it’s better not to pry and ask for more from them. 

Each getting out of their seats, you walked outside. Hearing cheers from the crowd and the occasional “Vil! I love you!” which made you a little embarrassed. 

Feeling the night breeze and seeing the stars poke through calmed you down slightly, it was 7:45 and all you had to do was blabber at them about the school until 9. 

Easy task, Y/N. Easy!

~~~

Once you got outside, the tour had been running smoothly for only a couple of minutes. But you couldn’t help but feel as though they started scanning you, as if they saw you from somewhere. Until unfortunately, the sunshine of the group’s lightbulb had went off. 

“Oh! You’re the girl with the broomstick towards the front of the school! You looked so happy practicing.” 

“There must be a mistake-”

“Are you sure? If so then I guess you have a doppelganger” the boy with glasses teased. 

“Didn’t you say, ‘Screw everyone at this academy’?” the short, red head questioned, persecuting your behavior. 

“Well some people here aren’t exactly the nicest. It was just an excitement of the moment thing, sorry,” You said, trying to get Mr. Non-Rule Breaker off your back. 

~~~

So... you had accidently overshared about your adventures on campus. 

It had all started when one of the boys looked shocked that the ancient Willow tree was thriving and looking beautiful as ever. When he looked at it from pictures given to him, it was completely lifeless and grey. 

“This tree, it looks completely different? It’s been sickly for years! How is this possible?” He asked, as his main piece of evidence the white haired boy gave to his father to buy this property was foiled. 

“Oh, that was me. They had willow worms in the roots that were ready to hatch and I accidently brought them out,” you said, a little prideful, yet it was quickly stomped out.

“That is highly irresponsible, you should’ve had a professional complete that task, not an inexperienced student,” the red haired boy scoffed, it seemed as though he didn’t respect this school at all. Yet the boy with grey hair and glasses paid him no mind, still incredibly astonished, but it was quickly wiped from his face and replaced with a somewhat of a sour look. As though you beat him at some game he was playing.

“...Interesting. I never knew magic could do something of that caliber,” he remarked,  pushing up his glasses. 

“Magic is incredibly useful, Mr...” 

Shit. You didn’t get their names...

“My apologies, I didn’t catch your guy’s names,” you said, placing a hand behind your head. 

You had never in your life seen a group of people get so surprised, besides the other white haired boy, who was happy to tell you his name. 

“I’m Kalim, Kalim-Al-Asim!” he said, shaking your hand with a vigor, “It’s a little funny that you don’t know who we are, but I like that about you!” 

How was it funny? You’ve never seen these people in your entire life? The blonde man was especially offended as you glanced at him for his name. 

“Vil Schoenheit. Actor, singer, dancer, beauty influenc-” 

“Hmmm, Vil I can’t help but feel that you’re angry at Ms. L/N for not knowing who you are,” the boy with glasses remarked before taking your hand, “Azul Ashengrotto, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

“I’m Riddle Rosehearts,” the short red-haired boy said.

“...Leona Kingscholar.” 

“Alright, I’m glad I got your names! Let’s get a move on! I have got to show you some more stuff!” you said before moving along, gaining more confidence as you talked to them. 

Maybe this tour wasn’t so bad after all!

~~~

Coming up:

“How did you not know who the noble’s sons are?!” Miette yelled, but her soft voice wasn’t exactly giving the shocking boom to emphasize her feelings.

“I’m sorry! Everything was completely fine after that, if this whole tour was such a big deal then I would’ve studied them more instead of the school,” you said, completely pooped out from last night. 

So much pressure on you made you very tired out, and all of these new details coming out made you feel even more guilty for your half-assed tour. 

[silkgonerough]

Astrology Observation/rants? #1

❤️I’ve noticed that people who have venus unaspected in their chart are incredibly attractive idk why???

👸Moon trine/conjunct venus is such a nice placement to have in regards to people in general but especially to the opposite sex. I feel like ppl tend to treat you more gently and kindly bc of it’s feminine energy. It gives a prince/princess charm to the natives mannerisms bc they’re so kind and warm! Men with this placement are kind of babied and seen in higher regards by women (especially older women!!) and the women are kind of protected and nurtured through men. This also goes both ways where women with this placement probably have amazing relationships with other women and the guys are that one friend who has a lowkey bromance with all of his friends lol,, It’s rlly hard to see these ppl in a malefic or fearful light.

🙎‍♀️Moon in Scorpio females have eyes that can pierce through your soul

💆Men with Aquarius venus and Capricorn Mars are top tier

👄Women with Scorpio venus are usually very pretty and sexy and known for their sex appeal if famous

💅Capricorn + gemini venus or rising women are really pretty and make great models

👯‍♀️Lilith in eighth house is considered a sex symbol placement (Brigitte Bardot, Elvis Presley, Angelina Jolie, Sophia Loren)

🤔I would say gemini and virgo risings are the hardest signs to identify because of their mercurial rulership and mutability unlike Pisces and Sagittarius where there are clear distinctions in facial features and physique because of the Jupiter/Neptune affect (long legs, round faces, prominent forehead and eyes) gemini and virgo can easily be dominated by other planets in contact with the ascendant or first house but both signs give someone a very youthful doll like glow

🧠People tend to shit on hard Saturn contacts but I find that with time they usually evolve beautifully and the aspect can become a huge benefic but only with hard work. Saturn is the only planet that rewards for perseverance and patience but it’s always worth it

🥰Leo and Virgo’s are actually really similar in what they expect from themselves and others. They both just want to be appreciated and considered important to those around them.

👩‍🦳No matter what signs are involved sun conjunct venus always has a very feminine and pleasent face usually with a prominent forehead,, they’re also rlly well captured in photographs!

🤳Mars square Neptune probably had a period where they may have read a lot of dirty fanficton or fantasized about weird concepts sexually

🌝Leo moons are WAY more of attention seekers then leo suns im sorry but it’s like their emotional well-being depends on the amount of attention they get whereas Leo suns don’t necessarily ask for it bc they just attract it naturally with their aura (this isn’t every leo moon ofc just the ones I’ve observed)

🤦‍♂️I think Virgo suns are more critical of those around them and how that affects who they are whereas Virgo moons tend to be more critical of themselves and how their actions affect their surroundings

🦵I’ve noticed Mars in the 1st house females are usually rlly toned and skinny with long legs

💃Mars in Virgo is known as being prudish or like a not sexy placement of Mars and I rlly beg to differ, I swear every person that the general public’s been obsessed with when it comes to being hot has this (Dylan O brien, Austin Butler, Idris Alba, Blake Lively, Benedict Cumberbatch, Tom Felton, Ariana grande, Johnny depp, Britney Spears?!! there’s so many more u guys need to get on this)

🥴Aries moons are all about talking the talk but I swear half the time are not walking the walk and when they do they’ve talked shit to about 6 ppl already and waited for like a week before telling u how they feel

🤡Pisces moons (myself being one) can be so fucking stupid when it comes to liking someone I swear. We tend to make excuses for them and cling to whatever image we’ve set up in our head on who they are. Once evolved though it’s way easier for us to see ppl for who they are off the bat without going through the emotional distress!

😒I can confirm that we attract whatever signs in our eighth house mines in Aries and I swear to god not a year has gone by where an Aries man hasn’t infiltrated my life

👗people who have venus in the second house are the definition of quality over quantity!! always dressed so well with the cutest jewelry. They’re style carries libra energy :)

🥺Aries sun men are some of the most sensitive ppl I’ve ever met!! I didn’t realize it at first but they’re rlly soft and uwu. I don’t know how to explain it but think of Eren from AOT or Natsu from Fairy Tail! They’re kind of like a cheeky kid you want to protect at all costs

🤝I think a lot of square aspects can work in your favor if there’s a specific trine or conjunct aspect that’s energy can balance it out once activated if that makes sense ? Like for example I have venus square neptune and I used to put myself in alot of unnecessary painful situation bc I had a problem with deluding myself when it came to liking someone. Yet I was always aware that the person was not right for me or the situation was toxic bc of my sun conjunct pluto. The Sun/Pluto aspect has kind of forced me to be more aware of the venus/neptune affect and I’ve grown a lot stronger through those painful plutonic experiences in love and I can see through other people’s intentions for what they are with ease. I think that sun/pluto helped cancel out my delusion by making me go through a lot of intense experiences to finally understand what I was doing and see things for what they were.

🧛🏽‍♀️Going off of that I don’t care what anyone else says I LOVE MY PLUTO ASPECTS and trust me their pretty shitty (sun conjunct pluto, moon square pluto, pluto square asc). I’ve been put into some rlly crazy situations for only being 18 but I can go into the world with a lot more awareness of who I am and the people around me. I like the intensity they bring and the forcefulness of change in my habits and life. Pluto has made me a rlly strong person in terms of persevering through life and it’s challenges. I thank pluto for that.

👩🏽‍🤝‍👨🏼👨🏾‍🤝‍👨🏻👩🏿‍🤝‍👩🏼I think one of my favorite placements I have that is also super favorable in others is Jupiter in the 11th house! This may seem kind of random but the amount of opportunities and cool experiences I’ve been given through my friends and social circles is something I’m soo thankful for🙏 Friendship and just being a friendly person in general is something I’ve always found luck and happiness in and it’s so rewarding to have so many ppl like and support u for who u are! Making friends with ppl online and making friends from friends is super easy with this placement as well💞