#anyway the moral is don't overwork yourself

[battle-of-alberta]

[ part one ] [ part two ] [ part three ] [ omake ]

As for how all this will end, I'm calling it now: Eleanor's getaway will be saved by Elaine taking her out to Red Deer. Aside from Red usually acting as Eleanor's ride, I feel like there's … not necessarily any special relationship per say, but more like an understanding. Red knows what it feels like to be overworked, stressed out and underappreciated—aside from Jasper, she probably has the best idea of what constantly serving others looks like and the toll that can have on you.

@fragmentaryremains called it, so I take it i must be consistent with my characterizations hehehe :)

(I did double check Alberta Birds for birds that live in the cities and not the mountains; of course the humble parking lot seagull was the obvious choice. People wonder why gulls seem to be in every urban wasteland or landfill in a landlocked province - apparently they commute in and out from big lakes such as... well, Big Lake near St. Albert.)

I do have a silly idea fermenting of some things they could do but for now: here they are rollerblading through Waskasoo Park and sharing some caramel surprises they made together earlier :3

Full page below

[luveline]

hello jade! you are so talented and i love how you handle Miguel, so here comes my request: miguel overworking himself and tinkering on stuff and fem!reader pretending a accident happened, just to lure him away and force him to rest, while someone else takes over

thank you!! and thank you for your request ♡ fem!reader x boyfriend!miguel

Miguel's eyes are the kind of dry where you can actually physically tell from the edge of the platform you've just yanked yourself onto. His undereye area is sunken and dark, and his lips are pressed together tightly as he breathes in. He has some strange technology in his hand, a screwdriver in the other. It's unusual to see him working with physical tech these days, and whatever it is has been keeping him busy. 

"Hey, Miguel," you say finally, breaching the quiet. Margo looks up from her desk at the sound of your voice, and something in her gaze says, Oh, good, you're here. Fix him. You nod tightly. "Miguel?" 

He looks up for a split-second, if that. "What?" 

"What are you doing?" 

"Calibration." 

He doesn't explain the tech beyond that. You're a Spider, you should be able to guess what it is that he's working on. You've created web-shooters yourself with extremely complicated and delicate makings, but the longer you look at it the more confused you feel. 

"Do you need anything? Water? Something from the cafeteria?" You edge into the room, footsteps measured. "A nap?" 

"Nope." 

You frown and approach his side. He's sitting down, so there's that. The most important thing is that he's resting in some capacity, but the second most important thing is that his hair is in hand's reach. You put your hand on his shoulder to test the waters. Miguel doesn't react. Pleased, you push your fingertips into his hair and scratch gently at his scalp. His hair is a little dirty. He isn't taking care of himself, and this deep into a project it's unlikely he will be anytime soon.

You decide it's morally okay to lie. "I need a favour," you say gently. 

He looks up, finally noticing your hand in his hair. His head tips into your palm, his eyes softening, his crows feet wrinkles erased ever so slightly as he asks, "What do you need?" 

"I smashed the window in my room, and it's really, really cold, and I can't find a vacuum," you say, setting a false shame into the line of your mouth and eyes, your brows pinching up at the starts. "I'm really sorry, I don't know what to do." 

It's your apology that finally tugs him out of work mode. He lets the doohickey he'd been tinkering with plink flat onto his workbench, a rare but not uncharacteristic kindness in his voice. "Don't be sorry. We'll get it fixed. I know where everything is." 

"I know where everything is," Lyla says. 

"S'what I said," Miguel says. You know he laughs to make you feel more comfortable, and the guilt for lying to him festers. 

That guilt quickly wanes on the walk to your room. He's yawning and blinking the entire trek, big hand over his mouth to hide it. The Spider Society is really shaping into something amazing, and more and more Spiders arrive everyday. They've started construction on a dormitory for worldly visitors and refugees, but you've been lucky enough to get your own room near Miguel's. It's hard work for him to undertake such a huge project. He doesn't realise he's not doing it alone.

"How'd you break your window, anyway?" he asks through another jaw-cracking yawn. 

"You know me," you say, laughing nervously as you open your door and reveal a lack of both a broken window or smashed glass. 

Miguel squints through tired eyes at the room's cleanliness. "The smashed window?" he asks. 

"What do you mean?" you ask. 

"You know what I mean, the– you smashed a window? You wanted a vacuum?" 

"Did I?" you ask. 

"She lied," Lyla says, blinking in and out of view.

"I gathered that, thanks." 

"Okay, I'm sorry, I did lie. I just want you to take a break," you say, sitting at the top of your bed in what you hope is an enticing display, hand rubbing the empty space beside you. "Come and sleep, Miguel." 

"I can't," he says gruffly, then less so, "I can't, I have things to do." 

"Just for a bit," you say, eyes wide and pleading, your very best approximation of puppy dog's. "Please, baby. Just for an hour." 

Miguel stares at you for a moment, his shoulders sagging, before he closes your bedroom door and wastes no time in lying down next to you. You're startled at his willingness to do as you asked, but then you notice his flushed cheeks, tanned skin darkened by a rosy blush. 

You open your mouth to say something smug. He senses it, and says, "I can't sleep if you're talking." 

Your lips snap closed. 

Miguel lays motionless for a while. His breathing evens out. Sure he's asleep, you lay down beside him and dot a chaste kiss against his temple. 

His lips flicker. Not smiling, but almost. 

[vhstown]

miles g morales x you headcanons

— 42!miles x gn!reader (dating)

warnings: fluff, brief mentions of violence, angst if you squint

note: ok i know i didn't write him like a bad boy rizzful cool criminal bf but this is just my interpretation from the 1min of screentime he had 😭 i hope someone likes it? i don't really but it's ok posting anyway, kind of long a lot of ramble

wasn't edited previously but is now!

Miles has never dated anyone before, so naturally, he's never kissed anyone before. In fact, though he's reluctant, he asks his uncle for advice about you (just as a nephew in need, of course.) It's sort of hilarious to see the boy with such a cold and unbothered exterior try to flirt and make a move on you. When he asks you out, he nearly trips over himself trying to block your way, and nearly trips over himself again when you say yes. When you try to kiss, he freezes up, but eventually gets the hang of it. It's surprisingly sweet and careful; warm.

Miles is hesitant to date you — date anyone. It's a casual sort of thing at first; he doesn't want to get too attached. But what draws him to you is the fact that you can make his life feel so normal, so simple and in-the-moment. It doesn't take long for him to realise that this is what he wants.

He does everything in his power to keep his criminal identity a secret. When there's rumours going around about the Prowler, he's quick to shut down the conversation with vague, uninterested answers. He's not scared of many things, but he's scared of the only person he can really be Miles around leaving.

So, the boy tries his absolute best to be good to you. Yes, he misses dates doing God knows what, but he's quick to try and reschedule or show up to your door with gifts, food, anything he thinks might make you happy (despite your annoyance, he's really good at making it up to you.) When dates aren't working, he decides to take you on spontaneous ones, going around Brooklyn and wracking his brain for anything that might interest you or be nice enough for a date. Half of your date is usually spent walking around together, but it's more fun than you think to pass time together like that.

For the time you do manage to spend together, you notice he's very observant (he has to be to survive as the Prowler.) Miles remembers every little detail about you and what you like. Things you told him since he met you are still firm in his memory, even if it was something you said off-handedly or to somebody else. He's always surprising you with little things you mention: an accessory, dessert from the place you wanted to try ages ago, etc.

Miles is very aware of your interests and whenever he passes by related stores, he's always asking you if you want anything. You're the only person in his life other than his family; of course he's going to cherish you.

But the second thing Miles is worried about is his mom. He's very overprotective over his mom, understandably so. She's the only parent he has left and he knows she overworks herself trying to provide for them. He's always trying to help her when he can, doing chores and errands without question and per his uncle's suggestions, but if something was to happen to her, he'd blame himself for it above all. So when he introduces you to her, he's more than uncertain. It's not like you could do anything to her, but he's made it a habit to never fully trust anyone anyway.

That is, until he sees how Rio completely lights up around you. She's so thrilled that Miles has a friend (or whatever Miles told her you were.) Even though she can only talk to you for a few minutes before her shift, she automatically opens up her home to you, telling you that you can help yourself to the kitchen and come over whenever you like. She whispers a couple things in Spanish to Miles that you can't quite catch, and he doesn't care to mention.

But you can definitely guess what she keeps telling him. Whenever he brings you over, he acts aloof, almost awkward trying to follow what his mom says to make you comfortable. The house and Miles' room suddenly becomes eerily spotless whenever you're due to come over, and the cupboards are in complete order. Rio's always asking Miles where you are, and she treats you like you're her second kid. She's very aware that you might be in the future (though Miles keeps denying it.)

You catch glimpses of his uncle sometimes. He doesn't really talk to you, but the man is calm enough. Miles seems to be comfortable around him, but when he finds out, you can make out an amused glint in Aaron's eyes whenever he sees you. Miles doesn't take you to see his uncle; he'd rather you're not aware of the man's ridiculous way of teasing him.

Whenever you come over, you both make it a habit to snack, play videogames, listen to music, whatever you feel like doing. It seems like he's always trying to keep you there. Miles will never admit it, but he misses you a lot. All he really does to show that is pull you into a silent hug and kiss your cheek when he sees you again, asking in the lowest voice what you've been up to.

When you asked Miles about his interests, he tells you the ones he shares with his uncle at first — music, art, etc. But whenever you go into his room, you notice a bunch of empty shelves and hastily shut drawers. Miles never really shares his real interests with anyone (he thinks they're childish more than anything), but when you insist, he bedrudgingly takes out the figures, comics and posters, acting like he put them away ages ago and forgot about them (more 5 minutes before you came over, if it wasn't obvious from the way he was flushing.)

The two of you spend a while putting everything back. You ask him questions about it and he returns them with short answers. When you leave that day, his heart is full, and his jaw hurts from trying to hide his smile as he looks at his shelves filled with superhero figurines and comics. He won't be touching anything now that you've put them in place. He really can be himself around you, though he's still a bit reluctant.

On top of Miles' other "secret" interests, he likes drawing. He keeps a tiny sketchbook where he draws people mainly, and you catch glimpses of it sometimes when he thinks you're not looking. Half of it is ripped out (there drawings of his mom, uncle and comic book superheroes scattered around his room), but the faces that do remain are of his dad, unfinished. There's another drawing he's never finished in there too. It's been constantly erased and redrawn; it was meant to be you. Eventually, that page is ripped out too. You can't find it no matter how hard you look; it's in his jacket.

And at first, the boy was kind of awkward. He didnt want to hurt you; he knows he very well could. He usually let you initiate anything (though he's clingy as hell and was just shooting that feeling down as much as he could.)

When he does get more comfortable around you (especially after he's sure it's not just a fling), he's always kissing your cheek, forehead, your hair; his kisses are surprisingly chaste, sweet, much like your first one. He holds your hand often too, even if you're just sitting next to each other, fingers firmly locked together with the occasional squeeze to let you know he's still there.

But he's no short of a tease too. Miles always likes to say pretty things in Spanish just to get you riled up. Even if you might understand what he's saying, he says it under his breath so you can't catch it. Miles doesn't repeat himself, instead giving you that stupid cocky smirk you've grown to love (and hate.) Sometimes he lifts your chin to make his eyes meet yours, maybe to see you flustered too as he studies your face in silence, poker-faced, not responding to anything you're saying. You think he's being teasing, but he just really doesn't know what to say. You're his, and sometimes he just can't believe it.

What he really loves though is holding you close: his head over your shoulder or your head against his chest (or his against yours, with much pestering) so you can't see the way that he's smiling. As much as he wants to be the cool and distant boyfriend, he's a big softie, absolutely melting with your affection, always quick to return it with his own.

But when you're out, it's a different story. He's not only overprotective of his mom, but of you. It really shows when he walks you home. He keeps his arm firmly around your waist, giving dirty looks to anyone who goes even an inch too close to you. He whipsers "you okay?" and "c'mon" while basically directing you around.

Miles knows these streets better than anyone else, but he's not going to take you through quick back alleys. He'll take you through busy main streets, maybe stop by a bodega to pick something up for you if you're still hungry while he eyes every corner of the store, even go on the subway with you if you're feeling particularly lazy, your back to his chest with an arm around you so you don't fall. He's always muttering about being safe, and his street smarts definitely rub off on you; his advice is sound, almost too experienced for a random kid living in Brooklyn.

However, Miles won't let you find out. No matter how much he's juggling being the Prowler, his family and you, he'll make it work. He can't lose this, no way in hell. Even if he has to lie to you about his seemingly random injuries or ditched date nights, you'll never find out about that purple blur that skids past you when you're outside at odd hours. They're just rumours after all, he tells you.

🕸️💫👾

thank you for reading 😭🙏 i struggled w this one and hobie too but idk i love 42 miles he's just some guy fr .... im thinking of writing a friends to lovers fic w 42 miles but im not sure yet (im just really lazy but lmk if ur interested?) + thank you to @qiuweyballs for the inspo i hate you (endearingly)

if u liked this reblogs are appreciated <3 catch the rest of my atsv headcanons here! love ya

[randomizer971]

WAKFU THE GREAT WAVE - Chapter 13

Beware of spoilers, bad editing and overuse of gif.

.

.

.

Oh, look another glowing McGuffin!

Are these the other Primordial Dragons? One of them looked like Terrakourial. Are they trapped, or something? Healing? In cryo-sleep?

Anyway, is this my boy standing in front of the light orb?!

It's him! It's DARDONDAKAL! Let's goooooooo *inhuman screeching!* Look at him! Look at my beautiful bat boy! So fluffy, even in his humanoid form! So majestic! 🙏

Giant Bat attacks Elite Goth Queen => Gets wrecked in 0.5 seconds.

Julith is so perfect! 😍 The close-up with her blades was amazing! If this webtoon gets animated, I might ascend thanks to all those great scenes.

Me after hyping up Little Dardar only to watch him lose miserably:

Petit Lardon 🥓 over there really thought he was cooking. Now, look what happens when you rush into things without thinking! All those years, all this knowledge, still no wisdom. smh. How can you call yourself a dragon and lose to a freshly resurrected corpse with no Dofus? And he didn't even land one hit! Embarrassing!

Rasalar helping up Dardar, while Julith is chilling with her blades (left), colourised :

Not only is Dardondakal weak, but he is also loudly self-righteous ?! Why is he talking so high and mighty like he didn't just get folded two seconds ago? Boy is still shaking like a newborn kitten! Reminds me of Adamaï with him losing like a wimp in Season 4. Seriously, all those Primordial Dragons are an embarrassment so far. I can't with these siblings!

I have to say it again: my bae Julith is so fierce! Almost worth the human sacrifices, almost.

Dardar is an embarrassment, but he is morally correct: murdering who knows how many people is wrong no matter what his sibling is saying. However, it does fit the personality and mindset of Grougalorasalar, one of the dragons considered to be "evil incarnate".

This makes the whole "let's save the world from the Eliatropes" plan even weirder because how are the readers supposed to believe Rasalar of all people is trying to save the world?

Pretty sure I've mentioned it in a previous post, but why would "Evil" care if the world is in danger? Wouldn't it mean more death and destruction to enjoy? Didn't Rasalar give his son Crocoburio a magical sword to help him conquer the world? In the webtoon, it doesn't look like Rasalar wants to save the world only to conquer it afterwards (so far). So, I really don't understand his reasoning.

The discrepancy between Rasalar's canonical nature (lore, games...) and his current actions (webtoon) is actually the main reason I was initially doubtful the one behind Yugo's nightmares was Rasalar - or the Great Dragon for that matter. The lore says "black dragons are usually evil". Rasalar is a black dragon and, in all media so far, he has acted as a villain. Now, the webtoon comes and makes him appear like some kind of antihero ready to save the world? ...'Kay.

Between the in-fighting, Julith looking like she is underpaid and overworked, Dardar being a wet kitten, and Rasalar saving the world with murder and extortion, I'm sure the Eliatrope artefacts will be much safer in their hands. Yes, it's the most sensible choice.

And that's it for now! This chapter felt shorter than it really was. However, it was a good way to take a breather after several action-packed chapters. What a great introduction to Dardondakal! The chapter helped establish the current dynamic between all three characters and even revealed a few things about Rasalar's plan and Dardar's possible reason for siding with his brother.

Chapter 14 will be out on 07.02.2025 on ALLSKREEN.

[crazyyluvr]

Masterlist

hi! i’m mar, and i’m just here to write about random stuff because motivation strikes me at the weirdest times. my writing’s decent… i think… anyway, here’s my masterlist!

will write:

gn, male, or female reader (not that experienced in male tho, but i want to practice)

fluff

angst

somewhat suggestive content

platonic stuff

romantic stuff

will not write:

nsfw

incest themes

major character death (unless it’s canon)

dark content (yandere type thing)

request status: open!

Fandoms

Marauders Era

sirius black .

The World Wants to Melt my Face Off I Swear- (If the summer heat was not going to back down, you’re just going to take matter into your own hands. And Sirius is all up for it.) — drabble.

remus lupin .

Dealing with the Problem = Breaking the Problem's Nose (You punched another student because he was annoying. Not because you were defending Remus Lupin. Totally not.) — oneshot.

james potter .

male!ravenclaw!reader collection

A Revelation in Potions (Not Through Amortentia, That's too Generic) (one potions class with you got james questioning his sexuality.) — oneshot.

I think James Likes Beaters! (James can’t get over his new crush when he has a Quidditch game against Ravenclaw — with you as their new Beater.) — oneshot.

You're Just a Bit Less Graceful than Icarus When Falling from the Sky, but It's Okay! (As James crush on you continues to grow, you play Quidditch against Slytherin. I think we can all guess where that goes, especially when Mulciber seems to have it out for you.) — oneshot.

regulus black .

coming soon…

Percyverse

luke castellan .

coming soon…

percy jackson .

coming soon…

jason grace .

How to Anger a Demigod as a Horse 101 (one of jason's skills that he's proud of is to be able to calm you down when others try and fail to do so.) — short oneshot.

Overworked, Underappreciated (by the gods) (your urge to prove yourself can cause you to overwork yourself, so jason tries to stop you for doing so — and of course, comforting you during the possible breakdowns that could happen along the way.) — oneshot.

Stop Being Nice to Me, I'm Supposed to be Mad at You (in which Jason gets in an argument with you before a Capture the Flag game and you end up avoiding each other... until you get injured, and Jason couldn't let the previous argument stop him from checking up on you.) — short oneshot.

leo valdez .

LEO APPRECIATION >:( (Leo sometimes (always) wonders what he did to deserve you and whether he still deserved you.) — short oneshot.

Grishaverse

kaz brekker .

I am the QUEEN of Hearts, Don't Tell Me Otherwise (Having a blind Heartrender has its perks. For Kaz Brekker, having a blind Heartrender that can hear his heartbeat change around her has its disadvantages.) — oneshot.

jesper fahey .

coming soon...

inej ghafa .

coming soon...

nina zenik .

coming soon...

Unorganized

Fluff

e!1610 miles morales x reader (basketball player!miles who dedicates his points to you all the time.) — headcanons.

[mixingmarrows]

Angel!Y/N x Demon!YB

Okay disclaimer at the beginning. I'm not religious. I am writing this based off of various Angel/Demon fanfiction aus I'VE read lol.

Also!!!! I was mostly inspired by this post by @laymedowntorest (I hope you don't mind me tagging you!)

And uh, it's kind of a fanfic? It's got a plot? But it's written more like a list of events lol. Uh. Anyways, I ramble a lot I'll stop now! I hope you enjoy!

So some info beforehand. The idea here is that the demons and angels are both trying to lead the mortals to their desired afterlife. The devils trying to tempt the mortals, and the angels trying to lead them to salvation.

It's somewhat organized, they've got 'charges' aka specific mortals they have to win over. It's like a job? I don't elaborate more that.

Angels are fewer in number so usually they're tasked with trying to win multiple charges,,, and by extension control multiple devils.

So. You're a very overworked angel who's got a long list of demons to try and keep out of trouble.

And it's fine, you're getting used to it. You're not the absolute best at your job, but you work hard.

At least you've got one charge you don't have to do more than just check up on. Their demon is slacking off, and you haven't even run into them! A lucky break on your end.

But even with one less charge, your list is still long and the demons you deal with are real pains. It's so much harder to convince morals of the right choices….

One of your least favourites to fend off is a demon by the name of Lucy. She has a sweet voice and speaks of wonderful sins that would bring otherworldly pleasure. Talking the charge out of premarital sex and drugs is much more difficult than it usually is… Lucy has probably led many other mortals astray, and you're doing your best to deny her this soul.

She's absolutely relentless with her charge(and occasionally she tries to tempt you as well), so it's strange when you don't see her for a week.

You don't question it too much, maybe she's finally gotten bored. It's normal for some demons to take breaks after getting discouraged in their work. They can afford to slack off.

But it happens again. And again. And again.

After six demons have suddenly vanished, you let yourself worry. You ask one of your fellow angels, TK if they've noticed any anomalies with the demons.

They haven't, and they ask if something is going on.

You brush it off, you'd hate to worry your friend, and mostly you don't want to deal with replacing the missing demons. It feels selfish of you…. But you're enjoying the lighter workload.

You try and rationalize, but it's hard when it continues happening.

Your list has three names left not even a week later. Whatever is going on, it's escalated. Your work(which used to mean arguing with a demon for all but a few hours of a day) was strangely peaceful now. Most of your time was spent wandering amongst your charges.

You can't assume anything happened. Your charges are still in perfect condition, and there isn't anything indicative of foul play. Not that you've seen at least. So while it's strange, you figure it's okay…. You're still watching all the mortals for when you assume their demons will return.

It's one of your quiet days, you're watching outside the window of a charge. It's the one you never had to worry about. It's peaceful. You're quite content to watch them paint.

The nagging voice in your head never really goes away, but you're doing your best to ignore it now. It's nice to have a break like this after working for so long.

But it gets worse when you feel the cold chill of being watched.

You're suddenly hyper aware of your surroundings as you feel the perverse eyes on your form. You were supposed to be the one watching, not the other way around. The gross feeling lingers as you try to flee as normally as possible.

You've never been scared before. Even the worry over losing a charge was nothing compared to the feeling of sheer terror that struck you.

Something was definitely wrong. Something was definitely very wrong.

You still try and shake it off though. You've still got work. Much… much less work, but maybe you can busy yourself for the rest of the day.

You don't make it far before a voice addresses you.

"Are you okay? You look spooked."

Already in a state of panic you've never experienced before, you turn around quickly.

He's tall. Abnormally tall. The stranger has a fair grey complexion and eyes that are just too wide. A calm blue aura surrounds him, and despite the chill in the air you can sense his radiating warmth. He's trying his very best to be comforting, and it's then you take in his expression full of worry. Despite his soft outward appearance(the lack of demonic traits you know are under the surface)you know what he is.

"You're a jumpy one, ain't cha?"

"What are you doing here, demon?" You spit it out at him. You know better than to let your guard down. Demons are merciless. Made of sin. They'll trick and betray you for the fun of it.

"Watching"

A shiver runs down your spine. He continues talking.

"I don't really care about my charge, but I have to at least make it look like I'm doing my job."

"The artist?"

"How'd you know?" He's got an admittedly cute little grin. Like he's so proud of you for figuring out the little puzzle.

"That's one of my charges too"

"So you're my angel then~"

His vibes are all wrong and you know it, there's something so much worse about him compared to every other demon you've spoken to before. The way he makes you feel like you're weightless, except for the heavy, deep, dark feeling in the pit of your stomach.

You continue to speak to him. He seems to be interested in making casual conversation, inquiring about you.

You manage to get him to leave, but he mentions maybe later would be a good time to pursue the charge, if you're not on the ball today.

You hurry home and take some time to recharge. That was the most stressful situation you've ever been in. You've lived for thousands of years, but nothing has ever made you react so strongly.

TK notices of course, they're your best friend and they're good at reading your moods. Because of this they hold off on telling you the news about how there have been some very brutal murders in the demon realm. Demon vs demon violence is common enough, but there seems to be something more to this. Lucy had been a fairly high raking demon for all the souls she'd managed to claim, and that was just the start of the rampage this stranger went on.

You go back after a few hours of idle chat with TK to watch over your little artist.

They're still painting. Something green. It's nice to look at. It eases your worry as you try and clear your mind and refocus on your charge. You don't notice the stranger hiding, making sure not to stare directly at you this time.

It's just after nightfall when the disturbing, tall demon from before emerges. He doesn't even spare a glance through the window towards your shared charge.

His eyes bore through you. You feel like he's looking into you, to the very essence of your being, and beyond that. It feels useless to hide, like he already knows what would be there anyways, he's just looking to confirm.

He speaks to you again but you can't focus enough to make out his words. The fear crawls back, it roots your feet to the ground and crawls through your stomach and rings through your head.

You realize it too late. The dangerous feeling, the terror he invokes in you. It's not like worrying about a charge because it's not your charges' soul at stake!

He's after you.

Anyways, the idea is that he's been killing all of the other demons on your list so you have more free time because he hates seeing you with them and it gives him more openings to interact with you. Idk. I really did rush though this. It's kind of a cohesive story but also I don't want to turn it into an actual fanfiction lol.

I was uh. Gonna write three of these for one post. And then I realized how long it was and was like "yeah maybe I'll break it up into three different posts" lol.

So keep an eye out for Human!Y/N x Demon!YB and Human!Y/N x Summoned Demon!YB bc I'm stupid and liked all of these prompts

[wh6res]

three's a crowd | nomin

synopsis. picking favorites is impossible when you like neither of them.

warning. read at your own risk. abuse, bullying, poly relationship, yandere themes, manipulation, nonconsensual touching, noncon, degradation, smut threesome oop

disclaimer. i do not condone whatever tf i wrote in this nor does it reflect my beliefs or values or morals and such. it is all pure fiction and i also dont think jaemin or jeno would act like this in real life.

note. this was meant to be a new year's gift lmao i obviously got a lil carried away 👀 anyway a late happy new year to you all! we survived 2020, let's start living in 2021, yeah? lmao if covid lets us grr mwah!

the relationship you had with the two of them was a weird one, bordering on taboo, but it wasn't as if you willfully chose to be who they wanted you to be and it took jaemin's unwanted pining and jeno's intimidating demeanor for you to fall right into their arms.

it was a joint effort on their part, you couldn't've possibly stood a chance.

"this many?" the cashier asked. "are you sure?"

stepping back and studying the whole situation, you figured you only had your addiction to caffeine and procrastination to blame. it was a chain reaction you didn't even know will lead up to your inevitable doom.

if you hadn't been slacking off during your first semester of junior year college, you wouldn't be forced to overwork yourself trying to catch up to the looming deadlines, but to be able to 'work yourself to the bone' you need your boost of energy… and that was when you met one of them.

"uhm," you scratch the back of your head sheepishly as you eye the six glass bottles of iced coffee. sure, it looks bad and you kinda appreciate the look of concern the cashier throws your way but it was none of his business.

"yes. now could you, like, you know… hurry up? i'm in a little bit of a time crunch right now."

screw it. although you hardly snap like that with other people on a daily basis, it'll be a whole different conversation if you were under a significant amount of stress and today, unfortunately, is one of those days.

now can he just fucking stop asking questions and give you your six bottles of death drink to keep your fucking brain going so you can pass an eight-page essay tomorrow? thank you very much!

the guy snickered, the beeping sound of a barcode being read sounding a thousand times more annoying than it usually sounds as he keeps his hand busy by punching your items out.

you fail to notice how he studies you through the gaps of his lashes, finding you interesting rather than threatening as you stood before him with your messy hair and oversized hoodie.

"haven't seen you around university grounds 'till today," he tries striking another conversation with you. "you new? i'm jaemin."

this was your first mistake, you shouldn't have been so… downright rude when you met him. if you were granted the miracle of meeting him a 2nd time, you would've acted more nice, throwing yourself at his feet even to blend in with the rest of his fangirls you didn't even know about at the time. you would've done anything to make sure he never gives you a second glance, to never pique his interest.

jaemin is the pep squad captain. flying over colored blue mats and doing tumblings in the air with no ounce of fear. he was the best in his team, that much was evident when your friend dragged you into watching a pep rally practice. his landings were clean, balanced, and executed to the best he can at all times.

no wonder he was popular, his talent is outstanding and his looks are a bonus. his killer combo of a smile and wink after pulling off a tough flip is enough to send them squealing in their seats.

he spotted you that day and since then, he snuck the quickest glances at the bench during practices. recognizing you as the coffee girl he met during his convenience store shift. jaemin tries not to let his disappointment show too much when he doesn't see you, but of course, a pair of cold calculating eyes could see right through him.

"i saw that," his boyfriend said, hand darting forward to hold jaemin's gym bag for him. "you kept looking at the crowd. do you want to see her that much?"

"but she reminds me so much of you, jeno!" he retorts, pouting at the slight grumpy tone the other boy used. "i can't help it. she doesn't seem to give a fuck around me so she's quite interesting. maybe she can even be a great addition to our relationship!"

"well," jeno replies after a beat of silence, plastering a small smirk on his face before slinging an arm around jaemin's shoulder.

"convince me?"

you don't like jaemin's attention. not in the slightest. and it seems that was enough reason for the reign of terror his little fanclub has subjected you too.

it wasn't the petty elementary forms of bullying like pulling at your hair or calling you names. they pale in comparison to the other things they do to you—beating you up, messing with your homework, "accidentally" dumping their food trays on you.

and you weren't stupid.

you knew exactly who was behind it, knew how jaemin spectates the whole thing from afar so that he can swoop in at the end to play your knight in shining armor.

"oh, you poor thing. do you need help?"

the first time you accepted his "help" you ended up in a supply closet near the gym during your free period, cornered and weak as your cries for help drowns under the squeaking of shoes and the booming sounds of rubber balls hitting the floor.

if it weren't for jeno appearing out of thin air and prying the boy off of you, you would've been painted blue and red from the death grip he had on your wrist, neck, and waist.

you can still remember feeling the soreness of your scalp from when he pulled your hair too hard. remembered feeling his teeth gnawing at your lips as if he wanted to tear them off.

that time hadn't been the first time you saw jeno. you've shared a few classes with him and it strikes you how polar opposites they are with one another.

while jaemin likes to bask in his professor and classmates' recognition by confidently reciting his answers, jeno would rather keep to himself. liked sitting at the last row, near the window, so he'd be the first to go once the professor ends their lecture. while jaemin loved the attention of his fangirls, jeno preferred solitude. while jaemin is impulsive and wild, jeno liked to think things through.

it was within these reasons that you decided to do what you did. but your judgement of character has never been more wrong.

you approached jeno one day in the library, tried to make yourself appear as stoic and confident as possible. but your constant slouching and averting eyes was a dead giveaway.

you came to talk to him about what jaemin has been doing, hoping there's one person left in this entire school that isn't under the cheer captain's trance. the one reasonable person that has already saved you once and (hopefully) is willing enough to save you again. the only one that probably has a certain level of control over jaemin, if the supply closet incident is anything to go by.

but you've overestimated lee jeno.

"you should've just given jaemin what he wanted."

"but—but aren't you two lovers? isn't it bothering you?"

you try baiting him, only for an uncomfortable shiver to start crawling down your spine when he chuckled humorlessly, pushing his school materials to the side while pinning you with an unreadable stare.

how can a person make someone feel so small just by a gaze alone? it was nothing like you've felt with jaemin. this is way worse.

"the only thing that's bothering me is why you're not ours yet."

you feel cold fingers creeping their way under your shirt, going higher and higher until it brushes against your bra. and when your eyes meet, the look on his face was unmistakable—what are you going to do about it, huh?

you stood up in lightning speed, the chair you've been sitting on scraping loudly against the floor.

you've never ran out as fast as you did.

and jeno swears it'll be the last.

you tried everything in your power to ignore them for the next following weeks but it soon became useless when the two boys took it upon themselves to give you your space.

although judging by the pinpricks you feel on your back, and the constant weight of a stare you feel on your shoulders, you knew they weren't done with you yet. far from it. and for some reason, you just knew they wanted to lull you into a false sense of security first before striking again.

and while they continued to ogle at you from afar like a hawk circling its prey in a desert, you took it upon yourself to return the favor. not because you were the slightest bit interested in those creeps but maybe, just maybe, if you look hard enough you'll find a way out, a weakness.

but what you realized made your insides churn in great discomfort—although it may seem that jeno holds the reins in the relationship since his reserved nature fits the role, it's actually the other way around.

jaemin might appear too self-centered, too focused on himself to give a fuck about his surroundings but in actuality, he has quite a knack for reading people. even more so than jeno. and it was scary how he used it to his advantage, and paired up with his devoted fangirls? it was hell on earth.

you found it alarming how the two seem to magically appear wherever you are.

although you weren't in the least bit surprised. for some reason, you can't take your eyes away when jaemin's devotees flock around him (and jeno) in a circle.

it almost reminds you of a shoal of piranhas, waiting for their meal to drop into the water before ripping it to shreds with their teeth. only their "meal" isn't actual flesh but the carefully crafted words jaemin says that drive them into a sick frenzy.

one that has them doing everything in their power to satisfy him like the loyal dogs they are.

so this was how he got them to bully you?

"oh, that? don't worry! yangyang just ran into me during cheer rehearsal. no biggie. my cheek stung a little bit, though…" is what he said but really he's telling them "scruff him up a bit for me, why don't ya?"

"of course, i can't be the best all the time. haechan is just too good, maybe even better than me…" is what he said but really he's telling them "can you remind him where his place should be?"

all the while jeno did nothing to hold him back.

no matter how wrong jaemin is, how much of an asshole he is, jeno will stick by his side through and through. so as much as jaemin is a puppeteer that gets a kick for controlling people, jeno is as much at fault for looking the other way.

because in jeno's perspective, why the fuck would he do shit when he can just get off from the entertainment that comes with jaemin's sweet little mind games?

we lost :(

you had been busy sorting through paperwork for one of your professors in the faculty when your friend texted you the results of the intercollegiate cheer dance competition. a frown paints your face, heart feeling heavy at the bad news.

in all honesty, you still supported the pep squad—you just hated the captain and his boyfriend. they've been practicing non-stop for this and prior to the weeks of the competition, jeno looked a lot more tense and jaemin less smiley than usual. you swore you even saw the latter snap at one of his fangirls.

not to mention, they paid less attention to you, too, and it was the best three weeks of your life.

tension starts rising in your shoulders, fingers absentmindedly running through the edge of the papers you had been sorting until you became immersed with your thoughts.

jaemin must be in the worst mood yet.

and jeno too, probably. if anything, that guy gets triggered the most when something bad happens to jaemin or when he catches snippets of people talking shit about his oh so "perfect" boyfriend.

jeno is a lot scarier when jaemin is in one of his mood swings, you noticed. he steps up in the relationship to offer comfort to the other boy and for outsiders? it isn't a great experience to go through—being on the receiving end of jeno's ice cold stare is a position you don't want to find yourself in after that time in the library.

he is still as much a threat to your peaceful life like his lover.

you snap out of it when the blinding headlights of a vehicle seep through the closed blinds. you hear the gentle hum of an engine switching off as the headlights vanished as quick as they had appeared. that must be the cheer squad's bus.

as you look around the empty faculty room, something in your gut tells you to ditch file sorting duty for professor kim tonight and fucking get the hell out of campus grounds as quick as you can.

after haphazardly throwing the unsorted papers back into the cabinet, you groan aloud when the keys to the office drop out of your skirt’s pocket.

the indoor gym where the cheering squad practices is right across the hallway. you sure as hell don't want to bump into jaemin. or jeno, too, if he had decided to ride along the cheer squad's bus on the way home.

you kept looking for the keys underneath the cubicles, cursing aloud when you heard the telltale squeaks of shoes rubbing against linoleum. you almost hit your head against a table when you quickly got back up your feet, darting forward to shut the lights for the faculty room.

they can't know you're here. alone. and if it meant sitting in the dark for a few hours 'till they leave, meant going back home a little later than usual is what you have to do then so be it.

you try not to react so violently when the door you're leaning on jolts when someone from outside slams their back against it.

"it's not like we didn't do our best, right guys? i don't have regrets. it might sound fucking cheesy and although i'm sad myself, atleast we did what we can."

it's jaemin. his voice clear as day.

you try peaking, craning your neck up from your place on the floor. only to see the back of his head leaning against the glass section of the door. someone else joins in on the conversation, followed by coach park himself, and you slowly tune out whatever they're saying as you stealthily start scanning the faculty room.

you curse under your breath. is there no other exit other than this door? jesus christ! even classrooms in this university had two doors—

"what are you doing here?"

the switch flickers on, basking the once dark room with light. only when you hear an echo of your name being called, did you snap out of it and quickly picked yourself up from the floor.

"i said, what are you doing here?"

their coach asks, drilling the question as he looks at you skeptically with his arms crossed. you try not to look at the people behind him.

particularly, not at his cheer captain standing on his right.

particularly, not at jeno, who stands out like a sore thumb with his blue hair, a protective arm snaked around jaemin’s shoulders.

this isn't your lucky day, too, you guess.

"i was…" you cursed yourself for stuttering. "i was, uhm, i was file sorting for prof—professor kim, sir."

coach park looked like he didn't believe you as he narrowed his eyes in scrutiny. your nerves are going haywire and you can feel the sharp pins of their stare with how close they are.

you kept juggling your weight with the balls of your feet, hands fisting and unfisting behind your back. you want to leave. you have to leave.

"file sorting… in the dark?" he asked incredulously.

fuck this.

"uhm, you can ask professor kim himself tomorrow, coach. for now, uh, i'll be going now. i'm sorry you guys lost…"

originally, the exit is on the right side, at the end of the hallway. but no, you are not going to pass by those two while on your way out so you ducked behind a random student standing on the coach's left instead and practically ran away from the scene.

everyone had been too busy. too busy looking at your retreating form to even notice jaemin and jeno exchanging glances, too busy to notice the latter untangling himself from their captain to slip away unnoticed, his hurried steps filled with a burning purpose.

you didn't know why you ran, but you did. your shoes practically booming against the floor as you sped away through darkened hallways. you're sweating profusely, heart hammering in your chest. you can worry about professor kim tomorrow but right now you just had to—

"why are you in such a rush, pet?"

crashing into jeno felt like crashing into a wall. if it hadn't been for his arm quickly wrapping around your waist, then you would've landed on your butt before him.

with the small distance between the two of you, jeno could see as clear as day through your eyes.

jaemin was right.

it was addicting to stare into them.

especially when he can see every single one of your thoughts flying through your pretty little head. but hey, it wasn't their fault you were so easy to read.

jeno barely conceals the wicked smirk on his lips when your hands come up to his chest, trying to push him away but to no avail.

he can see your eyes shifting from shock, to confusion, until it finally settles on fear—to which it's slowly becoming a favorite emotion of his to see on your face.

"you know, jaemin is in a really shitty mood right now. and we were wondering, maybe you can cheer us up?"

no. this can't be happening.

"jeno, please." your dilated eyes and disheveled hair made his blood run south. "let me go. you don't want me. you don't need a third party in your relationship."

you yelp when he lets you go, literally shoving you against a wall—which you found out is actually a door, as it swings open as soon as your body crashes against it.

with jeno looming unforgivingly before you in his full height, the tears stung extra hard but you won't let them fall.

if he wanted to bask in the image of your weakness then it'll be something you'll deprive from him for as long as you can.

"i don't need a stupid bitch like you to tell me what i feel." he scoffs. "don't fucking kid yourself, you little whore—i don't want you. i'm not jaemin."

the echo of the classroom door shutting closed surged through you like a wake up call.

this is really happening.

you've always led a decent life, had done nothing too questionable and you've always thought maybe life will spare you if you lived quietly enough. but the feel of jeno's freezing hands crawling against your skin felt like life itself had spat at you in the eye and left you to rot in a ditch.

"i've always liked how you wore skirts," he comments. playing with the ruffled hem of the soft fabric as he purposely grazed his knuckles against your supple thighs. "gives me easy access, don't you agree?"

you scream when he flips your skirt up to reveal the innocent pink of your cotton panties. it was as if a switch had flipped inside of you and the will to fight started coursing through your veins.

"stop! jeno! i don't want this!"

his brows furrow, grunting as he struggles to push the waistline of your skirt up higher with how much you're thrashing underneath him. you buck your hips, tried curling in on yourself, anything to prolong what he wants to do to you.

with your legs trapped underneath his, you blindly reach forward, relying on your upper body instead to push and scratch whatever your palms and nails reached.

you continue screaming like a banshee until he shoved two fingers into your wet cavern.

"stop fighting me," he sounded strained, as if he's holding himself back. you feel him fisting the fabric of your skirt and you fear he's simply going to rip it apart.

you tried responding to him, only the sound had been muffled, gurgled by the flat of his fingers pushing down against your tongue mercilessly. when you reach forward to push him away, your hands land on the apple of his cheeks, nails digging through skin.

until it slips and—

you lie rigid when red scratch marks in the size of your fingernails slowly appear on jeno's skin, his head turned to the side as he paused. your actions slowly start sinking in to him as he shuts his eyes and bit his lip 'till it looked like it was about to bleed.

oh no.

"jeno—"

the slap he planted on your cheek left your ears ringing. all those hard earned muscles of his put to good use—if the tears hadn't fallen for the last few minutes, then it definitely started falling now.

the hit had been so strong, a few of your hair flew astray, the buzzing feeling of your skin tempting you to reach a hand up to soothe your abused cheek.

until jeno let out a low growl and your hand immediately drops limp against your body, afraid of whatever else he can do to you other than a slap.

"that's more like it," he whispers under his breath. you let out the tiniest of whimpers when his hand darts forward to fist your hair. "do you know what happens to bad girls? they fucking get busted up. do you understand me?"

his patience is nonexistent.

jeno slams your head against the floor when you don't answer because you thought his question had been rhetorical. it felt like your skull had been split in two as you wail in pain.

"are you fucking deaf—i asked you a fucking question!"

the hand that cups your jaw is painful as he squeezed your cheek with his blunt nails. your hand shoots up to wrap around his wrist, silently pleading for him to let up as you sobbed out loud. you started nodding as best as you can despite his firm grip on your face.

your reply was nothing short of pathetic. with lips forcefully pursed and the steady stream of your tears and snot rolling down your face, your response is gargled and hardly incoherent and jeno seemed to thoroughly enjoy your anguish if the condescending curl on his lips is anything to go by.

"look at you," he whispers, his face coming close to yours as he holds you down. there was something in the way jeno stared so intently that it made your skin crawl.

"i think you're prettiest when ruined like this."

with his nose touching yours, he felt too close, bordering on intimate as you felt his hand creep back up your thighs, trailing up with feather-like touches that made goosebumps appear on your skin.

you tried wiggling your legs underneath him but one sharp look from jeno is enough to make you stop.

the hand holding your face moves. coming down from gripping your face to encircling his hand around your neck.

"do you like it when i touch you? freaky bitch."

his hands trail further up, up, up until you felt him slotting a finger underneath your panties.

jeno didn't like how frozen you were underneath him as he pulls at the hem before letting go. the elastic snapping back against your skin.

the action evokes a strong feeling through the young male, promising to have you writhing and screaming and begging because by the end of all this, you'll be so needy and frustrated that you will have no choice but to give in to what your body wanted.

"jeno, didn't i tell you to play nice?"

someone stands by the door, the minimal light from the hallway creating a silhouette with his form but you knew who he was. that deep voice, with the same annoying flippant tone, is a dead giveaway.

you didn't know why you even hoped in the beginning. as if there'll be someone who can save you from these two.

you thought the flash of hurt in your eyes was quick to disappear but jeno noticed it quicker.

in a span of seconds, he pulled you up from your position from the ground and tugged you towards his lap. you haven't even gotten the time to settle on your new position when he already smashed his lips against yours.

it was messy. too much saliva. too much teeth. no tenderness to it at all.

the fabric of his jeans felt rough, not to mention the ice cold belt buckle made you severely uncomfortable as it seeps through the thin fabric of your skirt.

when you attempt to hover over his lap, jeno grunts as he snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you back down without your lips breaking away from each other. you didn't know why he let out a whine, but you understood the moment you fully sat down on his lap and you felt a tent on his jeans hitting your clothed entrance perfectly.

in a normal circumstance, you would've found everything hot and might've actually gotten off from it but not when it's him who’s doing this to you and you didn’t consent to any of this.

you start squirming again. palms lying flat against jeno's chest as you attempt to push him away and jaemin sees this as the opportune moment to slot himself behind you, caging you in between them.

“i want my turn,” he hisses and without an ounce of hesitation, jeno stops to do what he's told.

jaemin doesn't waste any second to grab your face, awkwardly craning your neck up to meet his lips in the same feverish kiss.

while jeno had been all teeth and aggression, practically forcing you to open your mouth and kiss him back, jaemin on the other hand is more soft, more romantic, you daresay. he seemed to like taking his sweet time by clutching your face, kissing you like he actually meant it.

he pulls away slightly, resting his forehead against yours as he murmurs something incoherent under his breath and then he's kissing you again.

you think you heard something along the lines of, "finally."

you've been too distracted by jaemin to notice jeno's nimble fingers quickly fumbling with the buttons of your blouse. it was only when you feel the sensation of his tongue laving against the swell of your breast did you turn away from jaemin, jerking backward in surprise.

"no—!"

your scream is cut off by a hand cupping your mouth. jaemin pulls your back towards his chest, molding your body against his as jeno licked and suckled all he wanted, thankful to have the other boy there to not worry about restraining you and keeping you quiet while he has his fun.

"ah, ah, ah," jaemin teases, going hard over the pleading and teary look you sent his way. it looked pathetic, he wasn't going to lie, but it doesn't mean he didn't love it. "just keep still and appreciate jeno's efforts to take care of you, alright baby?"

you don't like how he talked as if this was all a mutual thing, how he talked slowly like you were some toddler who didn't understand anything.

it's cruel how jaemin giggled and basked in your vulnerable state as he kept his eyes pinned on you while undoing the zipper of your skirt. your muffled cries of his name only serving to egg him on.

the way he stared was similar to jeno, too intently and intrusive, like he wants to burn your image of despair in the back of his head.

you whined involuntarily when jeno got bored of all the licking and thus decided to start biting and nipping at your chest instead. he was hypnotised by how responsive you were, how every little bite and nibble made you shudder.

it was a shame that jaemin had to cover your mouth. he didn't get to hear your pretty mewls but it wasn't as if he'd let the night end without hearing them loud and clear.

jaemin is fast in undressing you, feeling slightly betrayed by how quick your skirt and blouse fell under his hands.

you know what he wants, what he's going to do, and the tears fall harder when you can't dodge away from him. forced to endure and accept whatever they give you.

"you act like you don't like it but look how fucking wet you are," you bit your lip hard when jaemin starts circling the pads of his fingers against your clit, fascinated by how more juices streamed down your thighs.

"jeno, do you see this? fuck."

you can only blink in defeat, staring off to the side as you force down any noise bubbling up your throat, forcing yourself to think of anything else other than what's happening right now.

you try not to think about how they managed to tear all of your clothes off while they're left completely dressed. tried not to think about the fingers lazily drawing up and down your slit to collect your essence.

if they're doing this as a way to further humiliate you, it's working.

"slut," jeno mocked, a wicked curl on his lips when he wraps his fingers around your throat. the moment he dives down to claim your lips again is the same time jaemin pushes two fingers inside you.

"look at how wet you are because of me," jaemin whispers hot against your ear and you feel a sick churn in your stomach when you feel his smile against your skin.

he purposely drives his fingers in and out quicker, settjng a brutal pace, wanting you to hear the lewd squelching sounds. "hear that? do you hear that, darling? that's because of me—"

"don't go talking big now, jaem," jeno retorts, pulling away from your lips to start nibbling on the back of your ear. "i was here first. did you see how she fucking reacted when i sucked on her tits?"

you're quick to catch how jeno particularly loved degrading you. but how he talks about you as if you're literally not in front of him naked made you hit a new all-time low.

you felt… filthy.

his hands find purchase on your butt—only because jaemin has already claimed the front. for now.

you close your eyes tight when he painfully squeezes the flesh of your ass. you swear, his blunt nails will paint your skin black and blue.

"i'm the favorite!"

"i'm the favorite!"

as someone who's part of a varsity team, you already knew a competitive nature runs through jaemin's veins. but never had you thought jeno would share the same sentiment. once again they prove that they're cut from the same cloth.

all of a sudden it wasn't all about claiming you as theirs anymore rather it was all about who can make you moan the loudest, who can make you cum the most, who can make you feel the dirtiest you can be.

you're absolutely terrified for the hours to come.

thankfully, they have yet to ask for your verbal opinion or validation. they let your body do all the talking—every repressed shudder and sharp gasp is enough.

but it's game over once they pop the million dollar question.

"who do you like best?"

you don't want to find out the consequences if you actually answered their question because you didn't know what could be worse.

jaemin's manipulation or jeno's aggression?

but it was all normal. trial and error is inevitable in order to build and mold you into the ideal lover for the both of them.

because adding someone new to the mix has never been easy—after all, three's a crowd.

[mysterystarz]

haikyuu boys as roommates <3

ft. kuroo, oikawa, akaashi, and iwaizumi (and how they wound up as your roommate) :)

kuroo ended up as your roommate when you slammed into him at a coffee shop

and made him spill his coffee on him but that's irrelevant

the day that this had happened, you had slept in and needed to get to your class as fast as you could

you had also stayed up late finishing assignments and needed fuel

the coffee shop near campus was unusually crowded but you managed to grab your drink and head towards the door when you suddenly slam into someone

someone with a black bedhead who now has coffee all over them (oops)

seeing this, you apologize but then run off to class because goddammit you're going to be late again

after class, you end up bumping into kuroo again and he proposes the idea of being roommates since he needed a person to split the rent with and they could help each other with deadlines

and you lowkey need that

you agreed and voila, you've got a roommate!

kuroo is a super considerate roommate

he makes sure that the TV or whatever he's doing isn't too loud when you're studying

he also helps you on your assignments whenever you need an extra hand with the labor, or if you don't get something

he also brews some AMAZING coffee

in return, you always help with cleaning up

but only to some extent because clutter is organized anyways

you help him with remembering his assignments, and always making sure he gets up on time

every night you trade-off cooking duties, but the weekends are always take-out

when both of you aren't in class, doing your part-time jobs, or studying, you tend to flop on the couch and have some deep conversations

some of them are def. abt. docosahexaenoic acid

you two would probably go to the university's volleyball games and he'd probably explain all the tactics if you didn't know a lot about the game

he's a pretty chaotic man, but a damn good roommate :)

oikawa ended up as your roommate as an escape mechanism

to be more specific, his fangirls

you see, when they heard that the marvelous oikawa-san had a free space in his apartment that was conveniently placed near campus, they went WILD

honestly fangirls, his bathroom probably has more beauty products than yours

one day you were at the library, speeding through notes and noting down things to ask before your midterms next week when you hear the massive giggles of an exclusively female audience

turning around, there's the great king and all his fangirls tailing him as he politely tries to charm them away from his table

that's when he made eye contact with you and walked over

because it's totally normal to have that happen hehehe

he sat down and he greeted you with a smile and asked you what time you had plans of coming back to the apartment to the usual movie marathon

you immediately caught on that he needed you to play roommate decoy

you looked over at the fangirls and made sure they were all paying attention when you said that you actually had plans to in an hour and that he was a considerate roommate for coming to check on you

that managed to shut up the fangirls DAMN FAST

cue a bunch of mopey fangirls leaving the library

thanking you for helping him out, oikawa offered the spot to you and you accepted

oikawa was a bit messy, but besides that, he was actually a super fun roommate

whenever you had assessments and needed to study at night, he'd brew a pot of coffee for you before going to bed (or if he had things to do, he stayed up with you)

both of you were pretty ambitious, so you always pursued your goals and motivated each other whenever you needed it

he also lent you some of his beauty products heh

in return for all this, you made sure to keep him from overworking himself, bullying him with iwaizumi, and cooking since he couldn't cook worth a damn

you'd probably attend all his volleyball games that he played in and were always big support (he always made sure to acknowledge you more than the fangirls)

the movie marathons were always alien movies and it was always fun lounging around in pj's with junk food watching them

all in all, he was a pompous ass outside, but inside the apartment, he was an amazing roommate :)

you ended up with akaashi as your roommate by pure accident

both of you had applied for single dorm rooms, but due to housing errors, you ended up with each other

naturally, both of you decided to take the situation in full stride and create a way for both of you to live comfortably in the space

because akaashi can be a gentleman like that hehehe

anyways both of you decided to create the space as a type of sanctuary, so you pooled all your favorite books, comfortable furniture, and always had some food available

he always helped you study for assessments by using flashcards to study throughout the days leading up to it while doing mundane tasks

like you could be folding your laundry when he'd randomly ask you a question from your flashcard and you'd answer as quickly as you could

whenever he needed to pull a late-nighter, you always made him some peppermint tea and helped him if you had nothing else to do

whenever you needed to pull a late-nighter, he'd always grab you some pockys or any type of beverage that he could get his hands-on

the two of you were both really good at cooking (but akaashi was better) so cooking was usually his job

meanwhile, keeping the dorm space clean enough to be usable was your job

friday nights were days where the two of you stayed in to watch movies

akaashi is surprisingly is a fan of action movies and the two of you have watched the mission impossible movies at least 5 times

you usually make fun of him for this, but he said to blame it on his best friend (who he promised you'd meet eventually)

bokuto would make an entrance in the wildest way possible if he had a break from volleyball hehehehh

saturday was either a lazy day or an adventure day

sometimes the two of you would go on tokyo adventures, discovering cool sweet shops or visiting tourist attractions like the sky tree

during spring break, the two of you actually decided to go to tokyo disneyland together and took so many pictures that there is actually a wall dedicated to them in your dorm-room

what started out as an accident led to a fascinating friendship, and a perfect roommate :)

ending up with iwaizumi as a roommate was unplanned, but understandable

the person you originally were supposed to share the apartment with had found a different accommodation last minute

cue iwaizumi, who had some circumstances happen and needed a place

so naturally as soon as you found out about this, you immediately offered up your place and he graciously accepted

the two of you actually got along really well!

he was always checking up on you and wasn't afraid to deal out some physical violence if you were overworking or trash-talking yourself

he always cared for your mental state and was quite a diligent worker himself

the two of you always did any all-nighters together (with the other as moral support and an extra hand just in case)

when it came down to cooking, you always ended up doing it together by having one of you chop the vegetables and one prepare the actual dish

whenever a new godzilla movie came out in theaters, you always went with him to watch it

even if it meant having to ditch note-taking

sometimes oikawa would show up unannounced which led to you and him mercilessly bullying him

his wounded ego was hilarious to you mwahahaha

on weekends, sometimes you and iwaizumi would go ramen noodle scouting

as in trying out a bunch of ramen restaurants and seeing if they were as good as they claimed

grocery shopping with iwaizumi was the best since he always remembered to get the important stuff while you looked around for any other "good to have" stuff

and go wheeeeeeeee in a shopping cart but that's all the time

as far as cleaning up went, the two of you managed to keep it as an organized mess that worked

in the end, the chance mishap ended up bringing you an ultra reliable roommate with the best ways to cheer you up whenever :)

[fleet-admiral-hiba]

Hi, I just got to know your blog and I just loved your writing, especially about the marines. Could I place an order? How would the relationship of the three admirals (Akainu, Kizaru and Aokiji) be with a s/o who is also an admiral? Imagine the many things colleagues at headquarters (and lovers too) would do together ♥️💛💙

Hi Dama, first thank you very much. This words means a lot. Secondly of course you can, and I love requests like this. I'll change the rank to adapt it with the canon.

ADMIRALS WITH A S/O WHO'S A MARINE VICE-ADMIRAL

SAKAZUKI /サカズキ

First of all: Jackpot, you won more time with your husband. Man's busy eliminating pirates all day and you do the same so it's a win-win situation

I believe firmly that him most of all will like the idea a lot, cause one, you know how to defend yourself, two he can see you more often and your day off are the same, three, your stricter side is extremely sexy

Man was all hot and bothered when he heard you shout at the recruits for slacking but also warning those injured to rest

Your dedication is very attractive to him

Also, your breaks are spent together in the garden or simply in his office while the both of you work

It's common now for people two find the two of you together, working hard. The only one who would tease him for being soft is Borsalino, but that's normal

You made him laugh. Truly I'm not kidding. You were complaining about some goods that hadn't yet arrived and about the recruits who seemed to be slacking too much,but the tone and the gestures really did a number

Ngl you whipped your head around so fast and you were ready to murder him for laughing at you, but anyway you didn't because it was a nice look on him, lost some solid years like that.

Missions together are the norm, whenever it's an important one. Also, I shouldn't tell you this but since you came around the morale has improved and people started to see him more as human, all thanks to you

Don't think just because your his s/o you will be free from his grasp. Man makes you work so hard you tried to kill him multiple times for this. People whenever heard a loud boom knew it was you trying to kill your husband for giving you half of his paperwork plus the mountain you still had on your desk.

Also

Not that you're not capable, you liked the idea of sleeping in an actual bed a lot than the couch in your office

You were the only one to keep him same. True, he's a workaholic, but people don't understand that deep down the decisions he makes and what happens in the word generally affects him greatly. He has is fair share of bad days too, and you are the only( second one beside Borsalino) too see and be there for him, no matter what. For you is just your husband, not Admiral Akainu

BORSALINO/ボルサリーノ

Little you is overworked. Period. With you working in his office together, he would do only a quart of the actual papers, the others lay there incomplete. The rest of the time is spent watching you. And I mean WATCHING you for real

You can the the hearts in his eyes every time you smile at him. You've got him so smitten and whipped for you you have no idea.

Beside the part where you physically force him to work, the two of you are quite the sweet pair. Alway nice and smiling it's a breath of fresh air around the base

But, unlike him you are more hard working and stricter, that's why he fell hard for you. You complete each other so well

Your relationship is nearly the same, you work together, then breaks together, a round around the base to check for something and then another couple of hours working and then home

He will, and he did, celebrate your birthday at work. Your cheeks red and they were burning so hard you could have cooked an egg. Anyhow it’s not uncommon for your dear husband to tease you and you teasing him back. You both are so shameless that whoever pass by your office door will get traumatized ( still SFW, mostly…)

Oh god, him trying to prank Sakazuki and you stopping him. It’s become a game of cat and mouse. While Sakazuki is grateful for your help, your husband truly came up with stupid ideas, so out of the world that you just stopped and looked at him like he had smoked something

You two will go on missions whenever possible, often bringing each other and your friends ( Saka’s lover and Kuzan’s). You won’t believe what you could find when the three of you are together

Because your husband is a social butterfly, you often go out for date night and group dinner.

Yes group dinner with your colleagues. After all you’ve been working together for so long that often your nights end up playing poker

You learned from your husband

Also you became a bartender, also because of your husband

11/10 most romantic couple that you could find

KUZAN/クザン

Congratulations: you are now diagnosed with chronic laziness

No, just kidding. Or am I ?

Still your tired husband straight dumped on you his paperwork, and even though you tried to make him work, helping him and so on, you couldn’t break through

Unfortunately for you, your back will suffer greatly. But don’t worry he will repay your kindness with back rubs and feet rubs

Still, you two make an unlikely pair. You working and him sleeping, people still question how he got to marry someone like you

Unfortunately this will remain a misters

But you do make a fine pair. You training recruits and him just looking at you, pretending to sleep. He will chuckle when you catch him slacking, and despite your harsh tone, he will probably try to do some actual work. Key word try.

You refuse to go on him on assignment. Not because you don’t like him as company, but because he’s forced to work and complete his paperwork. You asked Sengoku to send you on more missions, even short ones to make him work

And it worked surprisingly

Still, you two would spend most of time eating, and sleeping. Yes he will force you to nap with him. Buuut, during the hot summers you are the only one who’s really in heaven. Jokes on the others

While you may look like an innocent angel, you are the master prankster, keeping everyone on their toes. Even your husband, yes, you made him need to keep his guard up, you never know.

Because he’s not a very convinced worker, he will usually plan your next date night/lunch, your possible outings and also your future co-op missions together. He’s a man full of surprises, even though he’s lazy

Due to exposure you will start to slow your rhythm. Don’t get me wrong you still get work done, but instead of 30 minutes m you’ll need an hour and half and so on.

The smugness in his face is just….ugh too much please stop

Don’t confront him, he will just deny your accusations

You are the one who mended the relationship between him and Sakazuki, thanks to the long time spent together during breaks. You got them to interact for more than two minutes without threats, so Sengoku had to give you a medal

Bonus: you got him a cat, named Popsicle. You adopted this kitty because her approach to you was like his. She was to lazy to really make a move but neither denied your affection

Also, she sleeps a great deal. Ideal to evade the naps with him, now he has a furball of a kitty to nap with.

Yes, you have the photos. Cute

[pompousbiscuit]

Summer Babe (Winter Version)

Part 1

[SFW] (Hitch x GN!Reader)

{For @odmlevis 'GreetingsFromParadisIsland!Collab'}

{Description: Reader is a sweaty, awkward, movie-obsessed, 'Edge-of-17'-year-old, and questionable-relative of Hannes, co-owner of a tourist trap on the west coast. Summers were always "uneventful and drab", but your opinion is changing upon meeting Hitch, your 21-year-old "co-prisoner" at the gift shop. You're betting on August ending in a blood bath, a slasher coming out of the bushes and bleeding you dry. But, for once, you're hoping you're in the wrong. Instead, you're wishing for Hitch to notice you as something more than a "kid", and for Nile to buzz the fuck off.}

[TW: None for this chapter]

[Word Count: 3595]

{AN: ALL CRITICISMS WELCOME! This is my first time being a lil' "serious" with my posts... Aka, not a complete shitpost, lol. But, that doesn't mean you have to go easy on me, I want it BRUTAL! I wanted a nice&sweet, summertime, 'first love', type of thing. INNOCENCE is the theme here, and I hope you vibe with that. Also, thanks a million to @van-goghs-cypress for giving it a once over and offering some editing tips! You're the bomb because you don't know aot, but you helped anyway. Also, also, title is this Pavement song, lol -Bo}

One of the most notorious lies told by the film industry is, ‘the myth of a fantastic summer vacation’. There were never any musical numbers, flings, rivalries, or life changing adventures that unveiled someone’s true destiny in the heat of the summer. Everything on screen was a complete sham. A sham that made producers millions and gave kids false hope that shattered upon confrontation with reality. Reality being, that summer was, and always would be, uneventful and drab… You would know, you had the prior 17 summers to support your case.

There were the summers spent boiling alive in your humble abode, watching the clock tik until the shady cousin of the holy ghost drove past and, if you could manage to catch it, supplied a cool desert. ‘Homebase’ didn’t have much besides a lazy mutt and your single parent working paycheck to paycheck, and the murky lake festering with blue algae was the farthest from an oasis in the desert of your hometown.

Your grandparents were nice, but their years of retirement left them isolated with shortened fuses. ‘Casa de grandparents’ had an expiration date of about a week, and any second past that would turn every creaky floorboard into eggshells, unfortunately something you had learned firsthand.

Summer camp was perfectly average, and over time the awkward tan lines and mosquito bite scars had become endearing. Though, camp was not on the table anymore, unless you would allow yourself to be subjected to the title of ‘Brat Wrangler’. There was no way you would accept to be overworked for only a horrifying paycheck of 150 bucks.

Too young and inexperienced to work a real job or do anything meaningful, but too old to be reckless and have careless fun… The moral of the story is: fuck growing up.

~

Your uncle Hannes called your darling-of-a parental figure the other day. Well, you say uncle but, you’re not exactly sure how the two of you are related. You could be in laws, maybe a longtime family friend, a distant cousin, or just some guy who happens to know everyone and shows up to every event with his husband Shadis.

Uncle Hannes and Keith, Shadis as you called him, were an odd couple. They met during their time serving, and the story of their ‘romcom-affair’ brought a smile to your face. War buddies with completely opposing personalities turned lovers. Hannes being outgoing and carefree, a floater who bounced around professions and joined the army to acquire so-called ‘inspiration’, and Shadis being an uptight ‘go-getter-, never settling for the bare minimum and always searching for his ‘something’.

Their ‘inspiration’ and ‘something’ seemed to cross paths, with both finding sanctity in owning a plot of land on the west coast that they turned into a tourist trap that followed every film stereotype. Their home was also a gift shop, which was also a campsite, which was also a hiking trail, and also a hellish paradise that you realized you would spend your summer at.

The lengthy call that was being had with the man sparked the gas stove in your stomach, not indigestion, but rather the stove that began to boil your nerves and skepticism. Another handful of suspicions was tossed into the stew as your caregiver’s gaze kept catching your own, slouching posture straightened upright with curiosity. Raising yourself from doughy cushions, you attempted to glide absentmindedly into the kitchen, intending to nosily overhear the back-and-forth chatter.

The fridge you left open for how-long was promptly shut, leading you to raise an eyebrow at your guardian’s ecstatic expression. Oh no, they’re wearing that look…

“I’ve got news! I know you’ve been bummed because of camp no longer being an option; you give them your money for 10 years and all they do is offer to basically put your kid through ‘child labor’…

A shake of their head ends their mumbling trail of thought,

“Anyway, you won’t be slumming around here anymore!”

...what?

“What?”

“You already know who I was on the phone with, so I won’t even entertain myself by asking you to ‘guess’. Uncle Hannes wants you to spend the summer with him and Uncle Keith, and they even offered you a job at the shop! Isn’t that a relief?”

“But- I don’t know if-”

“You leave next Friday, so I recommend you start packing. I’ll get to making dinner.”

The words fired out of your parent’s mouth at rapid pace, leaving you unable to offer anything but stuttering words and a gaping mouth as they shoved you out of the kitchen, heels squeaking against the linoleum.

Well, you have something to do, you guess. A job, but you fail to see how camp was ‘child labor’ and this isn’t… You blame nepotism and its confusing nature.

~

So far, you’re really failing to see how this is any better.

The flight was rickety and cramped, and being an unaccompanied minor didn’t spice it up at all. The 2006 banger of a Christmas film lied to you, like everything else.

At around 3:15 pm, Hannes met you at the gate while you met his bear-hug of an embrace. ‘Well, at least one thing seems to be like the movies’, was your first thought when you caught a glance at your chariot, aka, Hannes’s wood paneled station wagon.

Whether it was the concerning noises of the car, the jammed cd player that ceaselessly played one Billy Joel album on repeat, or Hannes easily making conversation by telling various family stories, the drive never allowed for one moment of silence.

After winding down various backroads that reminded you of quite a few serial-killer-thrillers and paranormal-horrors, “My Life” fizzled out for the third time as you arrived at your destination, jetlagged and ravenous.

You relinquished a sigh as Hannes put the car in park, only to give a confused glance to the older man as he engaged in a ferocious battle with the ignition; after many jerks and tugs, the metal beast loosened its vice grip, one akin to Excalibur’s rock, on Hannes’s keys.

The slamming of the car trunk and doors worsened your headache, but the surprisingly breathable air soothed it. You helped Hannes with your luggage that consisted of a backpack and a duffle bag that is suspiciously similar to a body bag. The waxy water-resistant material and its impressive size could make a good transportation unit for a rotting corpse, but you doubt the frayed handles would do a methodical murderer’s hands any favors. Where did your parent buy this? Was the local funeral home having a tag sale?

“Keith! Look who I dug up out of the cemetery thanks to [caregiver name]! They’re a few sizes bigger now, but I still think they can fit in the oven. What do you think?”

Oh Hannes, he’s still ‘hilarious’ as ever… Also, he’s somehow continuing your mental conversation consisting of dead bodies. Anyway, with the rustic surroundings and seemingly deserted area, you honestly wouldn’t be surprised if they dragged you here for a gourmet meal of ‘sweaty teenager’.

“Very funny Hannes, but I’ll be sure to grab the salt and pepper.”

Stepping out onto the porch of a cabin that is desperately in need of a roof repair, Shadis lets the exceptionally squeaky screen door ‘thwack!’ shut behind him. Hands on hips, muddy boots firmly planted on dark wood planks, and the hint of a smirk invading a stoic expression. Though Shadis was ever the deadpan, he obviously softened his ass after spending his years with Hannes. The joke was that he’s a hard ass, not… Even mentally your words never come out right.

“I sure hope you plan on using more seasoning than that, I think I’d taste fairly bland otherwise. I’m thinking of some basil, oregano, thyme, rosemary, maybe some adobo… Do spices even exist here anyway?”

A scratchy and hearty laughter developed in Hannes’s gut and carried out of his throat, echoing amongst the redwoods and pines that shielded the clearing. Keith allowed a scarce grin to grace his features, a quirk of his firmly pressed lips along with an audible ‘hmph’. The couple is evidently amused by you, and you allow their wordless praise to take a beeline for your ego. After a momentary pause, it is Shadis who pipes up first.

“Alright smart ass, you think you could put that charisma into persuading customers? We… like you and all, but we both know you weren’t so-graciously invited to our neck of the woods to play scrabble and go fishing on the weekends. Your visitation could be mutually beneficial, or mutually aggravating. So, what’s it gonna be kid?”

Shadis is, unsurprisingly, still Shadis, and there really isn’t a point in taking note of this non-revelation.

“Could you maybe stop talking like you’re from Married to the Mob for one second? Or here, I’ll play into your schtick:”

You proceed with a rendition of a ‘1980s-interpretation-of-a-goofy-italian-mobster’.

“I have no option but to cooperate, well, if you’re not counting bitching and moaning. I accept your proposition to work the counter, and I think we can accomplish great things together, incredible things. Okay, enough with that. I am getting scharole, right?”

It was a rather pitiful attempt, but it seems to get the point across, as Shadis is trying to smother another surfacing grin.

Hannes grazes the back of his hand over his face to superficially remove the sweat drops that have collected around his brow line; your body-bag-luggage is officially out of the car and by your feet, thanks to him. Your own personal bellhop proceeds to answer your prior question with a throaty chuckle and a snarky quip.

“Yes kiddo, of course we’re paying you- I see you about to object, Keith, don’t even try it. Just try not to be a fannullone. I too have seen “The Sopranos”, and every other movie or show from the genre in existence, thanks to Keith.”

The bald man, like the stray dog he is, bares his canines at his lighthearted partner. But Hannes, being the eternally loving owner he is, disregards the threatening action, and instead, cheekily smiles in return.

Keith and his mob movies, of course! How could you forget the many marathons featuring Marlon Brando and the multiple discussions about Goodfellas! You knew there was a reason Shadis was a smidge more partial to you, you had just forgotten what that reason was, and now you remember other information relating to your realization…

“Doi, I just remembered! TCM is playing The Untouchables all weekend, if you’d like to join me, I’ll be readjusting to my sofa crease and hogging your century-old-television.”

A roll of his eyes and a quick scoff.

“You mean my sofa crease. In case you’ve forgotten, it’s been a few years, and other asses have christened your spot, better asses, including my own. Welcome to ‘Shag Carpet City’ you slacker, enjoy the aches and pains during your stay.”

You’re appalled, not really, but enough for it to show. Brows pulled down and mouth acting as a hotel for passer-by-bugs. You wear your disbelief well enough to pull a real laugh from Keith, the spot-stealing-devil himself.

Hannes takes great amusement from this exchange and responds accordingly, bellying out a laugh before connecting his palm, a bit harshly, but you know he means well, to your shoulder. Your body rocks a bit, the impact of his warm palm shocking you out of your slouch.

Giggles escape the blonde man for a few more seconds, and a signature finger rests under his nose during a quick sniffle. Hannes settles down, but his ease is cut off when a metaphorical lightbulb dings above his head.

“Oh yeah, speaking of slackers… Hey, Hitch! Come Meet Your New Co-Worker!”

You hear a cluster of muffled sounds coming from inside the rickety cabin; a distant yell of ‘One Sec!’, a crash and knock that possibly signified multiple falling objects, a few light stomps, and a few muffled curses along with an exaggerated yawn. Well, speaking of refreshing things, the air doesn’t seem to be the only thing doing it for you.

She was tall, or maybe not even tall, but rather, long. Her limbs seemed to go on forever, with long legs sporting white and red knee-high socks, and slender feet snug in ‘what-used-to-be-white’ high tops. Though she looked great in them, the knee-highs seemed to suit a more practical use, as stray mosquito bites and spiky stubbles of darker leg hair poked from the tops. A gray and white baseball shirt hung over the waistband of her, grass-stained, blue jean cut-off shorts. The wrinkled sleeves of her shirt stopped at her elbows, and signs of the summer heat seeped around the neckline in the form of musky sweat. Rather than any sign of a grimace, you only found those little details ruggedly, and effortlessly, attractive.

Her ashy blonde hair was so, so fluffy, maybe the softest looking hair you’ve ever seen, and it curled and waved at various angles around her face while cupping her jawline. Hazel green eyes seemed to deliciously burn everything they laid on, searing your own skin from just a glance. Pink lips were plump, yet chapped, and seemed to be saturated with an artificially flavored wax; a flavor you were just dying to figure out some-way, some-how. Last but not least, her sun-tanned skin, a golden color with hints of pink that signified hours spent in the sweltering heat of the outdoors, tightly tied a perfect red bow around everything lovely about Hitch.

You could already think of 10 films that her palette of colors would suit perfectly, and you can already imagine what style of filmography would highlight her beauty the most. Lost in your daydream of writing, directing, producing, and filming a trilogy of heart wrenching and breathtaking films that would debut at Sundance, you didn’t even realize your proclaimed-muse-&-headlining-actress was addressing you.

Fuck, what did she say? She’s looking inquisitively, could be out of confusion or concern or maybe she asked you something, maybe?

‘She can raise her brow AND look completely adorable while doing so? Can God give me a boombox already?’

You’re practically dying to play Peter Gabriel out her window at four am and possibly comfort her after her father is arrested for…stealing old people’s money? Maybe not the second half…

Wow, you still haven’t said anything! But as you awkwardly shuffle your feet and itch your dry palm, it seems like you’ve come to the conclusion that you should, MUST, blame the jetlag.

After deciding your first words to the beautiful stranger will be a safe bet of a lie, you clear your throat before allowing your pupils to be scorched by her own.

“Hey, eh, sorry! Y’know, the jetlag has really uh… It shook my brain around, for sure… What I mean is; I missed what you said, and I’d be forever in your debt if you could rewind the tape for me.”

She may have physically stumbled into things on her way outside, but you beat Hitch by a mile with how you stumbled into your words. Thankfully, she seems to be as forgiving as she is pretty, understanding your dramatic sarcasm and ‘rewinding-the-tape’ just like you asked.

“Nah, I get it, you’re good. I mean, I’ve never flown, so I can’t exactly sympathize… But I have heard that flying can like, totally fuck you up for a few days. I see you glaring ‘swear-police’, my apologies for trying to be casual.”

Her tone becomes charismatically sarcastic upon calling out Hannes, rolling eyes directed towards a raised hand and parted lips, dismissing his ploy of interruption before he could enact. Quickly dropping her annoyed façade, Hitch offers Hannes an apologetic smile before returning her attention to you.

“I said my name is Hitch, and then asked for yours. I also asked where these geezers ‘recruited’ you from.”

Introducing yourself as Hannes’s ‘somehow-relative’, you give her your name with a smile, and you almost collapse on-site when she tests it out with a mumble. You’re not sure you’ve ever heard (that/those) familiar syllable(s) said so fluidly, and you’re desperate to find any way possible to hear her say it again.

Upon revealing your place of origin, Hitch’s brows rocket up her forehead, surprised how far you’ve journeyed just to receive a measly paycheck, and to possibly swallow a few bugs by accident.

“Wow, how the hell did you end up here? Hope you won’t be lumbering around here all Night of the Living Dead like because of that jetlag. Customers do like the service to be obnoxiously lively, after all. So, just be a little more on your toes for the weekend rush, okay?”

Her teasing tone gives you goosebumps that juxtapose the one-thousand-degree weather that blankets the state of Oregon, and you gladly accept the wink she offers to you with a red-hot flush on your face. You can’t tell if she’s one to throw broadly known references around willy-nilly, or if she’s a connoisseur of classic zombie films. You make up your mind and proceed to tell the game show host in your head that you’ll take the double-or-nothing, solidifying your bet on Hitch being the ‘zombie-movie-expert’ of your dreams.

“Yeah, don’t worry, I’ll make sure to be more 28 Days Later about my zombie-ism. Y’know, still dead, but terrifyingly energetic.”

Her attractiveness is apparently limitless, because not only does she understand your reference, but she’s absolutely glowing at your wit.

“Ah, looks like you’ve snagged a pop-culture-geek for dinner, good on you Hannes! Maybe you’ll actually acquire a taste for decent movies by the time we’re finished.”

You’d usually pay attention to Hannes’s features, there’s more offense dripping off his face than sweat, but Hitch’s giggle is too throaty and cynical to not be the center of your attention.

You, on the other hand, do not question the second implication of being a meal or, take any offense to her comment about you being a ‘geek’. ‘Geek’ is already a label you’ve worn proudly for years, but you can also sense the endearment she laced in the usage.

How could you be falling even harder and faster than before? Is this what Cameron felt when he saw Bianca? Or Samantha with Jake Ryan, or Ronald with Cindy, or Angela Chase with Jordan Catalano, or James with Em, or-

‘You're going overboard with the references, just stop being roundabout and admit that it's love at first sight.’

Shifting the emotion on his features, Hannes prepares his own snarky response to his challenging employee.

“Well, you better hit the books girly, because (y/n) here has all those fun little facts and tidbits filed away on standby. Get ready to meet your maker over these next few weeks, Ha!”

Flinching as rough hands grab your shoulders, Hannes seems to be your boxing coach, shaking you while squeezing, hyping you up for a match. The proud aura that radiates off him, and even Shadis, is fueling your ego like an endless oil well in the ground below you.

Lids lower and lips curl, Hitch is plenty pleased with this discovery, and the little worker in her brain taking a note is almost visible.

“Well then, you better prep your flashcards and get ready to hand out the recommendations. If you’re as good as this alchy says you are, I’ll be bugging you almost every day.”

Oh, you can’t wait.

“But yeah, I have to clock out early. Dad’s buggin’ me about dinner, or whatever… See ya!”

A roaring exclamation from Keith is fired at Hitch, who’s running off towards a pale-yellow bicycle with a wicker basket that’s chained up around a rotting wood post. A booming voice shouts demands and obscenities towards the blonde girl, but they bounce off Hitch’s carefree armor with ease. You’re sure she’s not stupid, so she must have guts and no fear for her life if she’s bailing an hour before her shift ends. Blood vessels are seconds away from bursting, leading Hannes to direct his partner back inside before he has to try and assist him with writing a last minute will.

Strolling over to an appropriate distance from Hitch, you rest your forearm on moss covered bark, pursing your lips in uncertainty. Deft fingers with neatly groomed, naked nails, fiddle with a frayed helmet strap around her pointed chin, and brush loose hairs under the hard plastic. Even after how many minutes it’s been, you’re not certain if she’s really in front of you, existing in the same reality as you.

The movies always lie, you know the expectations set by them are never to be followed, that even documentaries are riddled with hints of exaggeration and falsities.

So, why do you feel like a mediocre lead who’s enamored with the far too perfect girl-next-door?

In the sun, her eyes seem to match the maple leaves above your heads, a lighter, softer green, with yellow veins running in webs under the surface. Seated on her bike, Hitch kicks up the stand and rides closer to you before breaking.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, co-prisoner. Also, you're leaning on a tree with like, a million harvester ants on it. I suggest backing away slowly and running to a shower!”

You hear laughter when you jump and shake your arm rapidly, brushing your hands down your attire to possibly flick off any stragglers.

With a ring of the handlebar bell, Hitch bikes off towards the dirt road, disappearing into the trees, sounds from scraping tires fading off into the afternoon.

Those words that maybe made you go "whaaa?":

{Fannullone; slacker , bum , loafer}

{Scharole; money, cash}

{THANK YOU AGAIN!!!! AHHH THIS IS WEIRD!!!!}

[obeymehasinfluncedmythoughts]

I don't know if you take requests or not as i had just discovered you, but I was wondering if you could do the Obey Me Brothers+Dia with an S/O who loves getting things but only when they are in the position of paying them back or getting them something to. I can kinda see this happening a lot because devildom has its own currency and MC in the game gets their money from the brothers? Okay now I'm rambling, if you don't wanna do it its fine, stay safe and healthy!

I had to read this like three times because I was confused, and I kinda still am. But, I did the best I could and basically the scenario is MC who lives by the give and take system. Idk if you meant that or by someone who likes to buy shit (I wouldn't know where to begin with that anyways), but either way I apologize for my lack of understanding.

Stay safe too! And healthy! 💕😖💕 sorry again!

Lucifer

He doesn't really buy you presents often. It just not his thing. The eldest prefers to spoil you with lavish dates rather than gifts.

But everyone once and a while he will give you something.

It's always very nice, usually expensive too, which really puts a strain on your 'give and take' moral.

You'll have to work your ass off to pay him back.

Kinda reacts like a parent if he finds out you're working to buy him something with your own money of equal value. He thinks it's sweet, but also is angry you're overworking yourself.

Everytime he gives you gifts he goes out of his way to drop tiny hints that you don't have to give him something back. This is just his was of showing he loves you, and he doesn't want you to feel like this is expected of you.

Won't turn down sharing a bottle of wine with you though :)

Mammon

He gives a lot of gifts, ranging from small, cute things he saw at the check-out line that reminded him of you, to expensive jewelry that he thought would look good on your skin.

He also loves getting gifts back

(Mostly because his whole social life has revolved around the "give and take" system. He's never just given, and it's rare that anyone's ever gifted anything to him)

But, despite all this, he still loves to see you light up at the prospect of a present.

However, he does notice you working a lot to keep up with him. He does not like how much time you're spending away at Hell's Kitchen and not with him (or his brothers)

Probably has to have Satan or something explain it to him.

Feels bad he's stressing you out lmao.

Leviathan

He gives you the majority of his gifts anonymously.

He spent all that time getting his money back from Mammon, just to give you some limited edition candy you'll never eat.

Doesn't give gifts a lot though, so you don't have to worry too much.

However, it doesn't make him feel very great if you insist you give him something back.

He's just trying to spoil you!!! He's not Mammon, you're hurting his feelings :(

Honestly, if you were to give him a kiss for every gift he gave, he'd be more satisfied and happy than if you give him any physical.

Satan

He notices right away how you react to presents.

Not having it.

So he gives you things you can't pay back with Devildom currency. Hand made items? Rare books you won't be able to find? Massages because he has magic fingers?

Satan believes a relationship is give and take, but it doesn't have to be even all the time. When he's spoiling you, that's what he wants to do. You don't need to give back right now. Or later.

Will flat out tell you this if you try and give him a gift

(However, if you make him something yourself, he's not going to say anything)

Asmodeus

Dumbdumb

Doesn't realize and is always flattered that you are getting him something

(Which happens a lot, because tbh, Asmo buys you a lot of stuff. Or just gives you shit he doesn't want)

Lucifer steps in at one point and tells him to cut it out.

He'll then go out of his way to tell you how you dont need to give him anything

But he appreciates it very much!!!!!!

Beelzebub

He shares most his food with you, but he really doesn't give gifts.

Idk, just doesn't seem like the type to buy you things. Beel puts more value on interactions between you two rather than physical commodities.

:):):):):)

Sorry, he's just very mellow and doesn't really understand this whole thing.

Belphegor

Also doesn't give a lot of gifts.

Much like his twin, physical forms of affection are more his style.

Will buy you cheap little knick-knacks though. Mostly on a whim, and sometimes he forgets he even bought them until Mammon's turn up his room looking for stuff to sell.

Accepts your habits rather easily. It doesn't really bother him because it doesn't happen a lot, and it's never worth more than $10 either.

He doesn't mind how you feel, but he wouldn't mind if you just took his presents either.

Diavolo

King of stupid, lavish gifts that will definetly break the bank.

Baby boy doesn't have a concept of money lmao.

He also likes getting gifts too, but he's satisfied with anything.

If he learns of your ideology, he'll totally understand and cut back.

After all, he is literally a demon, the whole contractual "give and get" kinda comes in their nature. He doesn't want to force you into that.

[marshmallowprotection]

I rambled this out in the tags of my reblog of ur response to my... hm, "pink" ask, but i'll put it here anyways

I think ray and i are similar in the way of emotional sensitivity and people pleaser tendencies, albeit stemming from very different origins. For Ray, it's his traumas and the lifestyle and mindset he's been forced into. For me, it's the neurological disorder/learning difference I've had all my life, ADHD, and its accompanying RSD and anxiety.

One good thing about that bad friendship i got myself into was that i learned how to be a little more independent and how to overcome certain parts of my anxiety at times, as well as how to say no and to not give in so easily into the urge to just do whatever my friends ask.

So, I'm better than I was. But like I mentioned, its a little different when i dont know the person yet, and its especially different if theyre as sweet and kind as ray is. Honestly it gets me weak. I mean, even in the game, when i play AS (and his route) for the first time, i was very compliant to everything he said, especially since he seemed to have some confidence about him (i still cant tell if im just dumb or if he actually seems that way to others in the beginning). And thats not just cos i wanted to progress with the game; i chose the options i felt drawn to.

I'd have a hard time telling him no.

As for emotional sensitivity and RSD... itd be a loop i swear oh my days lol. He's always like "sorry sorry sorry pls dont hate me" and im sitting there like "same." If i was actually there id be like "no no never! Id never hate you i swear ur so freaking nice and sweet and fjbdjdbjd" and then like that very same day, say i shot him a text or two and he doesnt respond for like an hour. I get it. I know he's busy. I don't reach out further cos i dont wanna be annoying, i just wait. And wait. And tell myself he's busy. He doesn't hate me. He's just busy. ...did i say something wrong? Maybe i was confusing...? *proceeds to reread my texts like a million times, analyzing all the possible interpretations and probably scaring myself a couple times*

Finally a text comes in, or a chatroom with him opens up, and- here's where we differ. I keep those "what if he hates me" thoughts to myself. Instead its, "oh thank goodness lol i thought maybe i was being annoying or something or offended u or made u mad" (usually just one of those; which one i felt depends on the scenario) and even then it's only if an opportunity comes up. Sometimes i'll outright ask "was i being annoying? Sorry i know i can get out of hand sometimes" or say something like "just lemme know whenever im too overbearing or annoying or confusing or fast, etc". I tend to prefer to lean towards semi-subtle phrasing rather than outright asking.

But its like... "sorry sorry; are u mad?" "No!! No im not mad... but... i thought you'd be upset at me so I was afraid to face you... and then when you didnt text me i thought it even more..." "what??? No never! I didnt text u cos i thought u were mad!" Lmaooo

[417]

Yeah, I can totally relate to that internalized dialogue. So, it just seems that you can look at him and say same hat. I understand that feeling very well because I do it all the time too. Ray oftentimes gets overworked and overwhelmed by the thought that he's not doing enough, as a matter of fact, he's been told that he's not doing enough so he just thinks that constantly without anyone having to prompt him otherwise. A part of it might be a manipulation on his part but another part of it is genuine self-loathing. It is hard to say because he has moments where his genuine sincerity comes out and moments when his plans pop out. That's why I often tell people that he's a wolf in sheep's clothing. Yes, he is relatable in a sense but that doesn't mean that he is inherently good too.

His morality is a little skewed but you can't really blame him for it given how he was manipulated himself. It is a matter of getting to know him and helping him see that something is amiss that allows him to almost realize that it's not okay. It is just too easy to overanalyze and get overwhelmed by the smallest of details that may not mean anything. It's an unfortunate circumstance that many of us have to deal with.

He's definitely a lot to deal with, and you have to be on your toes and ready to deal with it. If you are not in the right headspace or you easily get overwhelmed by little comments that may not mean much, then it's probably going to be hard for you to deal with the situations that take place with him. Even I know that I would have some specific problems with it myself given he and I have so much in common. However, don't think that that counts you out or anything. You still have the capability to get through to him.

It just comes down to empathizing and reaching out to each other when things don't feel right. That is easier said than done though so yeah, it would be a little complicated. It'll turn into a game where you're reassuring him and he's reassuring you. Sometimes it's good if someone can understand you firsthand, because the thing you can help yourself in the process.

[ladylilithprime]

Sastiel Creations Challenge | @ladylilithprime

↳ Theme: One More | Prompt: Day

Fluff Bingo Square: Movie Night

=I Did Not Live Until Today=

Read on AO3

MOVIE NIGHT IN the Bunker had been originally instituted by Dean, and the insistence of Sam that everyone in the Bunker, especially a stressed out and overworked teenaged Prophet of the Lord, needed to take regular breaks to relax and unwind before the constant "go, go, go" made them all go crazy. Hunts would occasionally interrupt the ritual, postpone it for a couple of days, but none of them were allowed more than ten days without a mandatory Movie Night. Dean had insisted that Castiel join these movie nights whenever he was around, intent on "educating" the Angel in what he termed the "classics" of cinema. Castiel had confided privately to Sam that, upon viewing these so-called classics, he was gaining more of an understanding of Dean than he was of why the movies were classical, which Sam had assured him was normal.

Movie Night had been weird after the Trials, because Sam would start out watching the movie with Dean and whoever else was there, but suddenly it would be hours later and he wouldn't remember actually watching any of it despite not having moved. In the wake of Crowley showing up in Sam's head with the brothers' code word tripping off his tongue to warn him that he had an angelic passenger who had taken over the driver's seat, Sam figured he knew what had happened and maybe he felt a little tiny flicker of gratitude for Gadreel sparing him having to watch the monkey movies again, but that was drowned out by the overall feelings of shock and betrayal and rage because how could Dean do this to him?!

It was Sam's decision to continue Movie Night even though it was just him and Castiel in the Bunker now. The original purpose of enforcing a break on overworked humans was still valid, even though now the overworked human was only Sam, and the secondary purpose of introducing Castiel to human entertainment was also still in effect, perhaps even more so after Metatron had downloaded a huge selection of American pop culture into Castiel's head without much in the way of context. Without Dean to steer the selection towards action films and neither of them particularly interested in watching mindless violence and gore, plus Sam's increased aversion to psychological horror films, the movies they watched tended to veer more towards musicals. If Castiel suspected that this, too, might be a bit of Sam's rebellion against Dean's stubborn adherence to mullet rock as the only valid music to listen to, well, he didn't call Sam on it and Sam didn't choose to admit anything.

Tonight was another designated Movie Night, not because it had been too long since the last, but because Sam knew that after the failure of the tracking spell with Gadreel's extracted Grace he, at least, needed something where the fate of the world was less dependant on the outcome. In hindsight, queueing up Les Miserábles was probably not the best idea given the overall setting of the movie and the themes of melancholy and grief that pervaded it, but he suspected Castiel would appreciate the other themes of faith and sacrifice and second chances.

He probably should have expected Castiel's analysis of the story's themes to extend to their lives, but somehow it didn't even occur to him until Castiel blindsided him with an abrupt declaration that Jean Valjean reminded him of Sam.

"I'm sorry?" Sam blurted, not sure he had heard the Angel correctly.

"He is a good man who committed criminal acts for a good cause and was harshly punished for it even after his incarceration ended," Castiel explained, gesturing to the screen where Valjean's pay was docked in front of the other workers, who were openly hostile. "It does not matter to these people that his intentions were noble - to feed his family - or that the crime was relatively minor, all they see is the criminal record and discount the good heart of the man who committed it and is stained by that record in the eyes of the society he serves."

"Cas, that's not... I started the Apocalypse!" Sam said, shaking his head. "That's a good bit worse than stealing a loaf of bread and running."

"You killed a demon," Castiel disagreed. "A demon you had been told by everyone around you was responsible for breaking Seals and that killing her would stop things. You were deliberately not told that she was the final Seal and that killing her would release Lucifer because enough angels, myself included, believed that if you knew the truth then you would not have killed her. Yet you do not blame me for lying to you, or for changing my mind and breaking through my conditioning too late to send Dean in time to stop you. Nor do you blame Dean for breaking under Alistair and being the one to break the first Seal which set things in motion. Instead, you continue to allow people, including Dean who should really know better, to cast the blame for things beyond your control onto your shoulders and even take on blame and responsibility where there should be none, forgetting that any penance required for playing a part long ago set out for you has been more than served."

Sam looked away from Castiel's placid, deeply knowing expression, but found he couldn't focus on the screen until a flash of silver catching light drew his attention. "Look, I don't... whatever redemption I might have earned with jumping has to be cancelled out by the things I did after getting out again, especially all the crap I pulled without my soul--"

"Do you think yourself responsible for your soulless self's actions, even though your soul was still in the Cage being subjected to Michael and Lucifer's torments?" Sam frowned a little at the low notes of guilt and sorrow in the Angel's voice and looked over, but Castiel wouldn't meet his eyes, staring instead at the screen as the old priest backed up Valjean's lie of gifted silver and gave over the candlesticks as well. "Hm. Heaven has not treated you nearly so kindly as this priest does..."

"Castiel," Sam started to reach out, but found his courage falter and lowered his hand with a sigh. "I know you didn't leave my soul behind on purpose. I knew it then, too, even with you keeping secrets and never having mentioned it before that moment... sorry, too, about the holy fire."

"There is no apology necessary," Castiel refuted, though Sam thought he looked moderately grateful for it anyway. "You were right to be suspicious of my actions and motives at the time, if not for that specific reason."

"Still..."

"Sam, I assure you, I hold no ill will over your suspicion of me, nor for your actions to try and stop me. If anything, I am deeply grateful for your continued faith in me even after I had gone off the reservation and done you considerable harm." Castiel shook his head. "We are getting away from the main subject, which is that you are not responsible for the actions your body committed without your soul present."

"It was still my body," Sam argued. "My... impulses or whatever, stripped of my inhibitions--"

"Not true," Castiel interrupted. "Stripped of your higher empathic functions and natural moral compass that is your soul, your body behaved with logical precision not unlike how most Angels would act. While that behavior likely seemed heartless or 'dickish' at times, this was in part because of the contrast to your usual compassion and kindness, but you weren't actively malicious or uncontrolled. Everything, including the decision to go to Dean with the suspicion that something was wrong and to ask him to be your moral compass, was meticulously and logically thought out and reasoned for the most optimal outcome. Recall that your soulless self felt that it was for the best that your soul be retrieved and rejoined with your body, and only rejected the plan when the possibility that doing so would kill you was presented."

"Whereupon I promptly tried to kill Bobby! Cas--"

"Sam," Castiel turned fully to face him and glared at him in a way that reminded Sam forcefully of the fact that this was an Angel of the Lord. "You. Are. Not. To. Blame. Your soulless self attempted to kill a man who showed every sign of being ready to kill you by forcefully reuniting your damaged soul with your body. A soul, I must add, which did not deserve the torment inflicted upon it and to which we owed the continued existence of the human race."

"I was just--"

"Cleaning up your mess, so you've said." Castiel was beginning to look frustrated. "But the Apocalypse was not just your mess. It was Dean's, and mine, and Lucifer's, and Michael's, and every angel and demon and human servant of either side who worked towards setting it off earlier than my Father planned. I would even venture to say that it was my Father's fault for refusing to step in when, despite Raphael's delusions, we had very clear evidence from Joshua that He is still alive and close enough to be aware of the situation." The Angel reached forward then and covered the shell-shocked human's nearest hand with his own. "Your soulless self recognized that, and recognized the unfair imbalance, and quite rightly called us out on our lack of respect for you and your sacrifices. Since regaining your soul, Dean's insistence on leaving past transgressions in the past except when it suits him to drag them out as evidence of culpability and questionable judgement has driven your self-confidence down to the point where you have even allowed Dean to make you believe yourself at fault for not looking for a brother and non-human friend whom you had every reason to believe were dead and at peace.

"No more," Castiel said with a fire in his vessel's blue eyes that had nothing to do with his borrowed Grace. "Sam Winchester, you will listen to me and believe this if nothing else: You. Deserve. Respect. And for my part in allowing others to be negligent in giving you that respect, you have my apologies."

For a long moment, Sam could do nothing more than stare at Castiel, stunned speechless and feeling more than a few echoes of the old awe and wonder with which he had first viewed this Angel of the Lord who had saved his big brother from Hell. It seemed impossible to believe, even with Castiel staring into him and all but demanding that he do so. For all he knew, he had fallen asleep on the couch next to Castiel and all of this was somehow some sort of incredibly vivid dream like the ones he tried to pretend he didn't have about the Angel, because if anything stood a chance at making their current arrangement far more awkward than it ever needed to be....

Castiel must have seen something of his thoughts in his expression, because the intensity faded into sadness and then, before Sam could gather his wits enough to try and reassure him, turned to resolve. "I will remind you of this conversation later, so as to establish better credibility."

"Um..." Sam blinked. That was unexpected. "Okay? Thanks? I'll... work on believing you, Cas, I will, I just...."

"Have several years of conditioning for expecting the worst to work around, as well as the more recent problems with maintained perception of reality," Castiel nodded. "I will remind you as often as is necessary of your worth and worthiness."

Sam nodded, more for the lack of any other way to acknowledge Castiel's words than out of agreement or understanding, jumping a little when the music from the television screen picked up in volume. He turned back to the movie, flushing darkly when he realized that they'd completely missed Fantine's entire arc and Valjean's crisis of conscience, and reached for the remote. "Oh, hey, let me--"

"No, it's--" Castiel's grip on Sam's hand tightened, then released with enough abruptness that Sam found himself stopping anyway, turning questioning eyes on Castiel. "I confess that I have been, ah, 'cheating' with this film, as it is one of the stories that Metatron saw fit to share, though not this particular version."

"Should we put on something else?"

"If that is what you prefer. I am enjoying watching it with you regardless."

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask if that was because of Castiel's bizarre comparisons between Sam and Valjean, but he swallowed it back and instead forced himself to settle back into the couch beside Castiel to watch the introduction to the Thénardier family and Cosette. The silence stretched between them as the music played, until--

"Sam? Why is Thénardier's wife making that gesture when she sings that there is 'not much there'?"

Sam swallowed down the urge to choke or laugh, because of course Castiel would ask about that. He cut a sharp glance in the Angel's direction to check if he was being trolled, but Castiel's expression showed only genuine puzzlement. "Uh... Well, I mean, uh... some guys get kinda hung up on penis size, uh, taking the whole 'bigger is better' idea way too seriously and, uh, thinking that bigger size makes them better able to please their partners, which, uh, really isn't true across the board. And, uh, there are a lot of guys who think that having those, um, extra inches is all they need for it to be good for their partner, which also isn't true." He found himself looking at the screen in a gambit to not have to meet Castiel's eyes, and moments later he pointed. "See, she's saying the line again without the gesture. So, uh, the implication is Thénardier falls doubly short of the mark."

"I see," Castiel said, his tone meditative. With his eyes averted, Sam couldn't see the speculative look the Angel sent in his direction, though he definitely heard the pointedly dry tone when Castiel added, "Mrs Thénardier would do better to find a more skilled pizza man."

Sam jerked his head around to stare at Castiel again, but this time the Angel's expression was the same sort of bland that he used when trolling Dean, and so Sam managed to force out a chuckle for the joke before settling in to watch the dynamics between the Thénardiers and Cosette with its very Cinderella vibe. Castiel muttered something about "punching John Winchester again" that made no sense and Sam wasn't sure he wanted to know about anyway, and then made a brief comment about Cosette's dream being similar to many human interpretations of Heaven, but otherwise said nothing until Valjean told Cosette that he was now her father.

"Another parallel," he said. Sam, who had hoped Castiel had forgotten about his weird fixation by this point, blinked in confusion.

"Uh, Cas, I'm pretty sure I haven't gone and adopted any random kids," he pointed out. Really, that seemed more like something Dean would do than him, Dean actually really liked kids and liked the idea of being a dad while Sam... not so much.

"Random, no," Castiel agreed. "You are, however, extraordinarily compassionate. I suspect that, if presented with an orphaned child whose situation required more specialized guardianship than a more normal human fosterage system could provide, you would be an excellent parental figure." He was silent for a moment, pensive and troubled, and then said, softly, "I had never had Nephilim of my own, nor am I likely to do so in the future, but if I did and was unable to care for the child myself, I would ask you."

"Me?" Sam gaped at him. "I mean, why me? Why not Dean?"

"Dean has an unfortunate history of being less than tolerant of supernatural occurrences, of children with powers beyond most human capabilities," Castiel said, shooting an apologetic glance at Sam even before Sam was aware of wincing. "A Nephil would inevitably have powers, and I am a Seraph. Only an Archangel could overpower and suppress the Grace of a Nephil sired by me, and there are no more Archangels available to do so. You have powers of your own and training in using them, albeit with an enhancement method that I would not recommend using with a Nephil, and would be well suited to teaching."

"Cas, my powers--"

"Are yours and yours alone. Azazel may have forcefully activated them on his own schedule and attempted to corrupt them and, through them, you, but he - and Ruby - failed. Your soul is far too pure and good for their hooks to find permanent anchor."

"But... I mean, you... angels... you always warned me against using them...."

"Only because the method with which you were amplifying them - that is, drinking demon blood - was so dangerous to you and the people around you, and training them to full strength properly after first tearing down Azazel's blocks would have taken considerably more time and effort... and, I suspect, those of my superiors actively assisting in bringing about the Apocalypse did not want you learning to use your powers without the addictive crutch of demon blood that could be used to prime your rage and point you at Lilith when the time came."

"So why are you just now telling me this?"

"Well," Castiel glanced away, looking somewhat sheepish. "To be honest, I did not realize that you were unaware that your powers were innate and not actually demonic in origin until I overheard you speaking of them in past tense as if they no longer existed because you were no longer drinking demon blood rather than you simply not using them. Given my clumsy understanding of social nuances and the complex mix of negative emotions you associate with your powers, I erred on the side of caution and did not mention it until our current conversation provided an opening."

Well. That was fair. Even so, Sam couldn't help but stare at Castiel as he attempted to process everything he had learned in such a short amount of time. The fact that the majority of Angels hated him was not new, but the fact that Heaven had actively sabotaged his efforts to be better than the demon blood that tainted him was... also not new, exactly, but Sam had never expected to hear it put so bluntly in conjunction with reassurance that his powers - and, by extension, Sam himself - did not come from a source of evil.

Even more bewildering was the hypothetical child Castiel spoke of and his assertion that Sam, not Dean who had always longed to be a parent, but Sam who had barely ever had anything to do with children even when he had been one, was to be given custody of the hypothetical Nephil if Castiel was incapacitated. The way Castiel had talked about the subject made it clear that he had never had Nephilim himself, and Sam knew that the creation of Nephilim was outlawed, and yet the Angel was sitting there, calm as you please, declaring that if he did ever have a child with a human and needed another parent besides himself and, presumably, the mother, that he would pick Sam. Sam, who was uncomfortable around kids at the best of times, even if he could fake passable competence in an emergency. Sam, who wouldn't trust himself to look after a completely human baby, never mind one that had "phenomenal cosmic powers" at its disposal. Sam who, until earlier when Castiel had declared that "nothing is worth losing you", had thought that Castiel might possibly consider him a friend at best and tolerated him as a reasonably useful asset at worst. Mind-boggling just didn't cover it.

And that wasn't even touching the whole thing with Castiel sounding like he was defending the actions of his soulless self. The subject of Sam's time topside without his soul was something Dean had never hesitated shut down hard, but Castiel had sounded almost... complimentary. Which made no sense, Sam knew, because without his soul he had been a tactless jerk, not--

"Your soulless self recognized that... and quite rightly called us out on our lack of respect for you and your sacrifices."

Sam swallowed against the lump forming in his throat, and again when it refused to be dislodged. Everything he did to help people, to try and make up for the damage he had caused, it never felt like enough. All the centuries spent in the Cage with Michael and Lucifer systematically taking out their rage on him amounted to only a year and a half on Earth, and the tortures blurred together to the point where Sam had long since lost count of how many centuries it had really been, shoving it down and shoving it down, his shaky forays into meditation and reshuffling his mind only managing to build the flimsiest of fences between his conscious mind and that echoing chasm of memory and pain, bits and pieces escaping here and there to scratch along his dreams. Little reminders that he may be out, maybe, but he would never be truly free. It was a truth, cold and logical and inexorable, that Dean refused to acknowledge in either of them, touched by Hell as they both were in different ways, and neither of them coping nearly as well as they wanted the other to believe.

"Stripped of your higher empathic functions and natural moral compass that is your soul, your body behaved with logical precision not unlike how most Angels would act."

The irony of an Angel of the Lord comparing his soulless self to other Angels was not lost on Sam, nor was the way that comparison gave him mixed feelings. All the years of praying, of believing in God and His Angels, having faith that some higher power was watching out for Dean and his Dad when he couldn't, that there was real good in the world to counterbalance all the evil being shoved at him from all sides...

"Sam Winchester, the boy with the demon blood."

...no....

"Nothing is worth losing you."

...but why....

"Sam? Sam, did you hear me?"

"Hm?" Jolted from his contemplating, Sam shot a guilty look first at the screen - how had he missed that much of the movie?! - and then gave Castiel a sheepish smile. "Sorry, Cas. What were you saying?"

"I was asking about Marius's assertion that he is in love with Cosette, when he has only just met her and barely interacted with her at all," Castiel repeated himself after a moment of scrutiny for his friend. "It seems disingenuous, more like the 'love' of the pizza man and the babysitter."

"It's supposed to be love at first sight, Cas," Sam explained, scrubbing a hand down his face. "It's like... when two people who've never interacted before meet, and there's this... connection that forms between them, like they click on a level that is deeper than physical or emotional. A look, a touch of hands... you just know, looking at that person, that this is it. This is the one." He shrugged. "It's talked about in books and movies and stories and songs all the time as this big romantic ideal, a lot like soulmates... uh, cupid-type soulmates, not me and Dean type soulmates."

"Do you not believe in love at first sight?" Castiel asked, tilting his head to the side with that puzzled curiosity that Sam found endearingly familiar.

"I don't disbelieve in it," Sam said, choosing his words carefully. "I mean, being a hunter has taught me that every story has some root in a truth. I just don't necessarily think that it always happens the way the stories make it sound. Like maybe sometimes it's one-sided, or something gets in the way like they live too far apart or one is already married or..." Sam bit his lip before he could continue the thought with mention of angels and humans, because he knew from Castiel that most instances of humans and angels coupling were less about romance and love and more about lust and awkward power imbalances, and the last thing he wanted to bring up right now was the hypothetical Nephil again. "Besides, just because love usually happens more slowly than a couple of seconds doesn't make it any less deep or meaningful or special."

"I see," Castiel hummed, and then, "Sam? How do you know when you're in love?"

...Shit.

"Uh," Sam reached up to rub the back of his neck, only to force his hand back down again when he realised what he was doing. "It's different for everyone, Cas...."

"I am aware," and there was a definite note of impatience in the gravelled voice. "I am asking how you know when you are in love."

"Oh," Sam mumbled. He could feel his face heating up and very nearly prayed that the heat wasn't a visibly obvious blush before he stopped himself; Castiel would probably hear it if he did. "Uh, well... not to sound like a broken record, but it was different for everyone I was... I mean, I felt differently about different people, even though it's all still love."

Castiel made an encouraging noise, and when Sam chanced a look in his direction, the Angel was turned more towards him than the screen, clearly interested and wanting to hear more. Well, okay then. Sam leaned back into the couch and closed his eyes, reaching back into the depths of his memory for the times he was in love or thought he was, shying away from some of the memories like Madison or Sarah or Amelia, and focusing on the deeper ones, the ones that got under his skin and stayed there across the years, even just as scars. There was a pattern there, a set of feelings that overlapped each instance.

"Happiness," he began, because that was the obvious place to start. "When you see the person, you feel happy. Being around them, sitting next to them, holding hands, hugging... full of happiness and joy and peace. You feel happy when they're happy, sad when they're sad, hurt when they're in pain... You want to protect them, even when you know they can protect themselves. You would fight, kill, even die for them, not because they would ever ask it of you, but because losing them is... unthinkable. It's agony. And all the pain is worth it, because seeing them smile is... it's better than Heaven."

"Oh," Castiel breathed. "Yes, that... that makes so much sense now."

There was a shuffling sound, and the couch cushions dipped beneath shifting weight, and then Sam felt one of his hands being enfolded in Castiel's, the skitter of that unfamiliar Grace held tightly leashed beneath his skin tingling just at the edge of Sam's awareness. He opened his eyes and looked at Castiel, who was beaming at him now from much closer than he had been. "Cas...?"

"Sam," Castiel was still smiling, but it was warmer, softer than the brilliant joy of before, more comfortable and... "Thank you for sharing your feelings with me. I was never able to explain myself adequately to my brothers, and so they frequently drew incorrect conclusions that I lacked the necessary frame of reference to refute or correct. Perhaps now I can make them understand."

"Understand?"

"That I am in love with you, Sam Winchester," Castiel squeezed Sam's hand gently. "My world started the day I took your hand. And I would not have it any other way."

"Cas... I...." He couldn't say it. He wanted to, God, did he ever want to say it back, but the words caught in his throat, too used to being choked back after so many years. "Cas...."

"I know. Sam? Will you hold me again? I enjoyed that quite a lot."

"Sure, Cas," Sam shifted, shoving the whirling of his thoughts back and away, and opened his arms. Castiel released his hand and moved closer, pressing the length of his body against Sam's. He let out a soft sigh as Sam brought his arms up to curl around Castiel, settling in a loose embrace that still managed to fully encompass the Angel's smaller physical frame. Together, they turned to watch the movie, wrapped up in each other and the mutual assurance that their feelings, spoken or not, were returned.

"Tomorrow we'll discover what our God in Heaven has in store...."

=End=

[im-an-anxious-wreck]

Memories Aren't Important… Right?

Chapter Seventeen • Remus

Word count: 2354

MAI...R? chapter collection

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-

Remus and Roman were playing video games in the living room before bed, when Remus doubled over, dropping her Xbox console as chaos' head, out of nowhere, felt like it wanted to split in two, the stabbing pain nearly unbearable.

Roman paused the game, setting a hand on Remus' shoulder, and said, voice full of concern, "Remus? You okay?"

~

"Remus."

After Roman called his name, Remus looked up at Roman from where he was scrolling through his phone. "Yeah?"

"I…" Roman sighed and sat down on the couch next to Remus. "I know you robbed a bank last night."

Remus' rolled his eyes. "Ugh, so what? We needed the cash, and you know I have these powers, so why not use them for something useful?"

"Remus, you know why. You have to give it back. We could get in so much trouble, especially you. I… I don't want to have to get you out on bail."

"Ugh, you're not gonna have to, there's no way to trace it back to me anyway."

"How do you know that?!"

Remus rolled his eyes again.

"See!" Roman exclaimed. "You just don't. Plus… Re, it's wrong to rob banks. I don't… I just don't understand why you'd do that."

"You know why! You know exactly why! I refuse to let us be in debt because father decided he had nothing else to lose and beat the shit out of you for being gay!" Remus lowered his voice and tilted his head down so Roman couldn't see him cry. "Do you know how scared I was? How frightened I was when the hospital called to say that you were in the ICU? I was fucking terrified."

"Re… it's okay. I'm okay now."

"That doesn't mean that it's okay that it happened! I know it's been over a month but you're still limping! I know you try to hide it but you don't have to. I just— since when do we not tell each other stuff?"

"I… I don't know," Roman admitted.

"He… he wouldn't have even known where you were if I hadn't have been stupid enough to think he'd actually changed after all this time. I… I never should've—"

"Re, it's not your fault." Roman set his hand on Remus' shoulder, only for Remus to shake it off.

"Yes, it is. It… it should've been me."

"No! I'm glad it wasn't! No offense, but you're kind of scrawny. I'd… I'd much rather it be me. I'm glad you weren't hurt."

"But if I'd been there… I mean, if my work hadn't called… if I hadn't had been stupid enough to invite him to our apartment… I mean, we had to move towns, for fucks sake."

"Hey, that worked out though. Now we're closer to school."

"Yeah… it's just— not fair that you got hurt because of me."

"It's not your fault. It sucked, but you couldn't have known that he lied. We hadn't seen him in what, seven years? For all we knew, he'd changed. I know that you still blame yourself, and it really sucks that I'm in medical debt—"

"We're… It really sucks that we're in medical debt. I'm not letting you take it all on yourself."

"And I won't let you take it all!"

"And that's why I robbed the bank! Now it's on neither of us!"

"But that's morally wrong!"

"Ugh, no, it's not! Roman, we're fucking broke! Between our student debts —even with all your awesome scholarships, it's still just continuing to get worse—, rent, and food, we just don't have enough even for all that, let alone adding medical debt on top of that. But I know what I'm doing! I finally found something that I'm not shit at! I can help us, Ro! I'm not… I'm not useless anymore."

"You were never useless! I know it's hard right now, but… I can get another job! Or we could get another roommate, just… give the money back."

"No! I'm not gonna give it back and I'm not gonna let you overwork yourself! It's not worth it. Just let me do this for you!"

"No! I can't— you… I can't lose you too. Not… not after Mom… just— please."

"Roman… I can't give it back even if I wanted to. I've already paid it off."

"I… okay. And you… you said you're sure they couldn't trace it back to you?"

"Quite sure."

"Even though you just quickly paid the debt off with thousands of dollars?" Roman asked incredulously. "Like that's kinda obvious with our level of income. It's not like being a grocer paying that much. They're gonna be able to trace that!"

"Oh! Actually, that's not what I did though. I opened a complicated series of accounts, and one of them will get and send double the monthly payment to the debt place!"

Roman pursed his lips. "I thought you said that you couldn't return the money."

"Well, I guess I could, but it'd be hard. I already set it all up! I even managed to get it to where the accounts will automatically close when the money has been transferred out of it."

"I… I guess, since it's already done. But you can't do it again!"

Remus sighed. "Okay. I won't, Ro-bro. I promise."

~

"—y won't you wake up? Remus? Remus! Wake up!"

Remus opened chaos' eyes, realising that she was laying down on the couch, he looked around confusedly, and tried to find who was talking to her. He finally turned her head to see Roman worriedly peering at chaos.

"Remus! You're okay. Oh, thank goodness. Are you okay?"

"I'm okay… ugh, my head still hurts though. What happened?"

"You just like, fainted! I was just about to get one of the others but you woke up an—"

"I… I had a really weird dream… How long was I out?"

"Just a minute or two, but I've heard that dreams can happen in a short amount of time. What happened in it?"

"I… it was the strangest thing, like… deja vu. I've… I could swear I've been there. You were… were…"

"Remus?"

~

"You broke your damn promise!" Roman screamed. "You said that you wouldn't do it again and you did!"

"Roman, you don't understand! We really needed the money."

"I know that! You think I don't know that? But you can't just rob some place everytime we need cash!"

"They were gonna do it anyway, Roman. I just came along to help! It was opportunistic, okay!"

"Ugh, that's almost worse! Now you have robber friends? What happens when they get caught and rat you out?!"

"They won't!! One of them can make people believe whatever he says! We literally can't get caught now! And the other one can knock people out without hurting them! We're great!"

"No! That's wrong! You're in the wrong here, Remus!"

"I can't keep living like this! And I'm good at this! For the first time, I'm actually good at something! Something helpful. I can help! My chronic pain isn't stopping me from this! Yeah, maybe I have to cancel sometimes because my back decides to break, but when it's not as bad I can get us income! We can quit our shitty jobs and just focus on college. We can have enough food! I just— why won't you let me do this for us?!"

"This is wrong! We shouldn't steal other people's money. What does the bank even tell the people that come in for their little bit of money? What do they say when people call because their card has been declined? What if you're hurting other people like us! People who are just getting by? You know the bank isn't taking it out of the rich. It's just gonna hurt the people who are already poor, it's gonna hurt the entire community. This isn't the way, Re."

"Ah! But we realised that so we're not gonna rob the bank again! We have a better plan."

"You're not going to steal again?"

"What? No! That's ridiculous, of course we're gonna keep stealing, but this time we're gonna steal from the rich! They won't even notice. It won't affect their lives! So what if they can't buy their fifty-second yacht?! They'll be fine."

"Re… I can't watch you go down this path."

"No, don't worry about it! You don't even have to know if you stop asking me where the money comes from."

"Remus."

"You should see how rich this dude we're about to rob is! Deceit —that's the one that can make people believe his lies— found the Evans heir's account and he even found how to access it as if we're the Evans heir! It's seamless. Even V— I mean, Anxiety —who is anxious about everything— didn't seem too worried about it! It's gonna go great."

"Remus, I'm not comfortable with you doing this."

"I'm just asking you to let me do this. The only thing you need to do to help is to let me help us!"

"I'm not helping you! Even by just standing by. I refuse to!"

"Ugh, Ro, you just don't get it—"

"No! I don't! I don't understand why you're putting yourself in danger like that! Why you're putting us in harm's way."

"I'm not! I'm really careful! I'm not gonna let you get hurt again! Never again."

"Remus… I know you mean well, and I know you think this'll fix everything but it won't. As for not hurting us, you're not invincible. This can't go on forever... Maybe it's not this time or the next or even the one after that, but you're going to get caught! Eventually you will. You need to stop while you're ahead! Please."

"You know what, no! I'm not stopping. This is for our own good. I'm helping!"

"You can help in other ways. You're acting like you think that you're a burden, but you're not! You're not a burden."

"I— I don't… Just let me do this for us!"

"No! I won't let you! You have to stop."

"I'm not stopping and I won't let you stop me. This is happening, with or without your permission!"

"Then fine. Go do it then. Just don't expect me to still be here when you get back."

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

"I guess this is goodbye."

Roman looked about ready to cry. "Yeah, I guess it is."

The next day when Remus came back, Roman wasn't there, but Remus had expected that. He'd be back soon. He hadn't meant forever, obviously… he hadn't. Roman hadn't meant it. He was coming back. He had to.

Remus spent that night alone in their shitty apartment.

Remus didn't realise, wouldn't let himself realise that Roman wasn't coming back until it'd been a week and he went into Roman's room to clean, only to find it empty.

That's when he broke down crying and vowed to never let anyone get hurt because of him again. He'd be there for his new friends, even if it hurt Remus. He didn't want anyone to ever feel the way he was. He'd never let them feel alone like he was. Because he was...

He was alone again.

Roman truly wasn't coming back.

~

It was a bit easier to wake properly this time. Remus was a little less confused, despite the tears in her eyes fuzzing chaos' vision.

"Remus! You're awake again."

"...Roman?"

"Yeah?"

Remus pulled Roman down in a hug, wrapping her arms around gold tightly.

"Hey, it's okay," Roman said, gently shushing chaos. "What's wrong? What's going on? Just tell me. We can fix this together."

" 'M sorry."

"What are you sorry for?"

Remus sniffed, burying her face farther into Roman's shoulder. "Everything," Chaos managed to mumble. "I ruined everything."

"What? No, you didn't. Why would you… think… no. You don't… I mean, you can't." Roman pulled away, pushing Remus back down so that chaos was sitting again, and sitting down on another section of the U-shaped couch. "Re… what were your dreams about?"

"You… I b— broke my promise."

"No… you— no."

Remus choked back more tears. "I'm s— sorry. Didn't… didn't mean to fuck everything up. I thought you'd… come back. You always came back. Wh— why didn't you come back?" Remus desperately tried to wipe away the now rapidly falling tears, but more just took their place. "I k— know it's all my fault, I made y— you leave, I mean you hate me."

"No, Remus I— I didn't, I don't hate you."

"I— but… you— Just, don't go. Please, d— don't leave me. N— not again. I can't— please."

"Re—"

"I'll be good! I'll stop, really. Please, I'm sorry!"

"Remus, it's okay! I— I forgive you."

"You…" Remus sniffled. "You… do?"

"Yeah, I do, Re." Roman sighed gently. "Sure, you shouldn't've stolen all that money but you were trying to help us. I… I get it, it wasn't easy.

"I've had all these years to think, and it really doesn't even matter anymore. I just— want my sister back. I've regretted leaving you every day of my life since and all I could think about was how stupid I was, and how badly that I just want you back."

"O— oh, well, damn, Ro."

"I understand if you don't forgive me for leaving, for hurting you like that right now, but I'm gonna make it up to you. I promis—"

"I forgive you too."

Roman blinked in surprise. "Really? Just like that?"

"Of course, we both fucked up, a— and we're gonna make sure that we don't do that ever again, together. Just… don't leave me like that again, okay?"

"I promise, Re. I'll never leave you like that again. I… thanks."

Remus smiled, albeit watery. "I missed you."

Roman wiped away a few of gold's own tears. "I missed you too, dumbass."

"H— hah, you're the dumbass."

"Well, I guess we'll just have to be dumbasses together."

Remus laughed, an actual proper belly laugh, and holy shit, did it feel good. "Damn right."

"Damn right," Roman echoed, getting up to sit next to Remus and pulling her into the biggest hug.

Remus hugged back just as tightly.

-

Next

[caffeinatedopossum]

So I realized that I basically only talked about skin picking here but since I'm semi-anonymous on here, I will divulge into some of the obsessive thoughts I have. If any of you have experience with ocd or anything else that might cause this, I'd like to know what you think because I'm scared amd confused and this is severely impacting my life.

This is gonna be under a readmore though because its long and it might be triggering (mentions of disgust, death, sexual things etc) and also it is just incredibly personal. Please just keep that in mind.

The worst ones are probably thoughts about sexual things- I'm asexual and over the years, it's been repeatedly implied that I DO want sex but don't know it, which leads to severe disgust, anxiety, repulsion, etc around anything sex-related and also fears of r@pe (fear that I have been and don't remember, that I need to have been to justify how I feel, and/or that I will be at any given time). There's also thought spirals along the lines of "Well maybe I do secretly want it..." which just makes everything awful in so many ways.

Anyways, do not imply I secretly want sex. So so many people have done this and it's just incredibly triggering and a kind of fucked up thing to say to anyone honestly. Please also avoid implying that I need to be "fixed" (I intend to work on the repulsion and stuff because it sucks but there's nothing wrong with my sexuality) or that I'm like this because of trauma.

That just leads back to the obsessive thoughts that I need to have had certain things happen to me to justify feeling the way I do. Also don't give me any personal stories of "Oh I USED TO BE asexaul/sex repulsed", anything along those lines. I'm glad you understand yourself better but thats not what I need to hear.

Another thought I get caught up in is thinking about people I love dying, just completely immersing myself in the worst scenarios possible. I imagine that it was my fault and I feel nothing.

Or that I need to prevent their deaths by doing anything I can. For example, thoughts like "my girlfriend will die from overworking herself because she's trying to support me. If I work harder however I can (mostly in the form of drawing, cleaning, or exercising in an effort to somehow become NOT disabled. Even if it means depriving myself of sleep or rest. Spoiler: it hasn't worked -_-) then maybe she won't die".

Or just randomly "x person will get in a car crash/they're late because they got in a car crash", "x person will off themselves because I'm not texting them (leads to >) I'm a bad friend (leads to >) I'm a bad person" Even things like hearing an ambulance siren can make me jump to "someone I know is dying".

God now that I'm typing it out I'm realizing there's actually a lot so I'm just gonna summarize everything else I can think of. There's also a lot of repetitive thoughts about myself and my own safety, health, morality, etc. I worry that I'm dying, that I will be killed, that I'm a bad person for various reasons, that I have a medical condition (I do actually have several which I think makes this worse), that I'll be in a position to save someone with self sacrifice but will save myself instead.

Sometimes I spend hours just googling medical conditions and the like (medicine is one of my special interests though so idk, I don't see that as a bad thing and I enjoy it) or check my pulse repeatedly to make sure my heart hasn't stopped. I worry about having specific conditions, like fatal familial insomnia, and ironically the worrying keeps me up, sometimes for days without sleeping pills.

I also worry a lot that I'll mistreat my pets, either intentionally in a fit of uncharacteristic rage, or accidentally as an effect of my very poor memory/tendency to forget things. It's so bad that I actually have nightmares about harming animals and it's really upsetting :((

Anyway idk if I can think of anymore or if I just don't want to think about this anymore but yeah hopefully that was enough to like make what I was talking about make sense or at least give it some context. Also for context, I have DID and ptsd, generalized anxiety, agoraphobia, autism, adhd, and ehlers danlos syndrome, all of which disable me.

I think one of the reasons I try not to bring up thinking I might have ocd is because I already have so many conditions and I know a lot of people will look at that and see me just carelessly self diagnosing with everything I can think of, which isn't the case. It's true I have health anxiety but that just pushes me to inform myself about conditions. I promise I put a lot of thought and conversations with people who know me and people who actually have these conditions into these things before I say I have them

Me: *stuck in an anxious thought loop where I obsessively consider whether or not I have ocd*

Also me: no I do not have ocd. This is normal behavior that people without ocd exhibit