#disclaimer though that I’m not diagnosed

[frogfriend-247]

I’m so used to taking on all of the responsibility of holding relationships together. I learned to approach my relationships with an internal sense of detached aloofness — so I’d enjoy my time with them, be passive and agreeable and helpful: whoever I thought they would prefer. But I’d never get fully connected. I felt the need to always, constantly be ready should the relationship end; I needed to ensure that I was ready to detach and move on the moment they were done with me — because, in my experience, it was always up to me to solve the relationship issues (the other people wouldn’t put in any work), and I didn’t have it in me to do that over and over again, especially since I could always fail. I’d rather not need anybody — so I made sure that I never got attached enough to anyone (or anything) that I couldn’t “do without.”

Then, I went to college, and was no longer living at home anymore…And lo and behold: things started changing! It took a hot minute for the change to be noticeable to me — probably about 1-1.5 years — but I found that I was genuinely attached to people. Maybe the feelings were still dulled, still not as intense as they are for most people, but they were there, and I didn’t know what to do about it.

I had been in therapy for a while, and I genuinely wanted to improve, so I tried not to internally detach when I realized this. And I was successful in this endeavor — except I found myself overcorrecting. I would be somewhat overbearing and needy, and I would obsess over people. I would go huge lengths to help my friends and be with them any chance I get — which might seem positive, but it’s possible to be too helpful. I didn’t do anything too bad, I don’t think; even as I’m putting effort into expressing my emotions more, I still end up directing them inwards the vast majority of the time, especially if the emotion is negative. So I was having more extreme reactions to minor, perceived abandonments, and I was more clingy, and my relationships suffered because of it.

And recently — due to moments like the one I mentioned in the previous post — I realized the reason why my relationships were suffering when I tried harder to keep them going. It’s because I wasn’t trusting them. I chose them as my people, but I wasn’t trusting them to choose me back.

When I realized the problem, of course, it wasn’t immediately solved. But I started to loosen my grip, to trust them to still like me and include me in their lives even without me budding into it. And as a result? …I lost a friend, which, predictably, made a lot of things worse for me. But it also led to moments like these too, when friends show they care about me, all on their own, completely out of the blue.

And I am far from being mentally healthy, but. It helps.

My best friend texted me today out of nowhere and my reaction was way more dramatic than it probably should have been. Like… They remember my existence when I’m not around?? They wonder about my life and actually want me to be a part of theirs??? what?????

[marshmellin]

Gil-galad sees Elrond showing legit signs of shock on the field in Eregion.

And I think Gil-galad is about to have more than one feeling about it.

Gil-galad gave Elrond command on the field in Ost-in-Edhel -- fully gave him command of all troops on the field. Elrond led their charge (Gil was right there beside him with an encouraging face, like "you call it, son, whenever you're ready, we go." Gil-galad pulled back during that charge, along with all other troops, at Elrond's command. Elrond was also the commander on the field who negotiated with Adar, general to general - Gil-galad was not involved, was not consulted on that conversation. I get no sense from show-universe that Elrond commanded large groups of troops before he led here. In fact, Adar calls out Elrond's lack of experience — though Adar notes he talks a good game.

This was Elrond’s show because Gil-galad asked him to run it. Promoted him to be there and lead at least 500 elves to battle.

And THIS is the exact moment that Gil-galad starts to see signs of Elrond's potential or growing PTSD*:

"Oh....oh, ope, yep, he's down. Yeah, no, buddy is down. Okay. Stay there, lil dude. Fuckin' Form Ranks, I guess, all twenty of you still mentally with me, let's ball YOLO (sorta)."

Yes, Elrond absolutely can swing a sword like a tank and led effectively and got it done, but that doesn't mean it's who he is and that it won't affect him. Gladriel talks about the sound of singing mocking the battle cries in her ears.

How easily can Elrond live with the choices he had to make that killed many, many elves who entrusted their fates to him? THAT was what broke him on the field, before they were captured or ever walked into the courtyard.

So...how easily will Gil-galad handle this additional pain he may have helped cause in this young man he loves?

*clarification: As someone with diagnosed, active PTSD under treatment, I’m not using the term lightly. Disclaimers of all kinds, as some have come into my blog before and oh-so-helpfully explained to me why I should not speak of my own diagnosis in certain terms. Well, Jan, it might not be the terms y’all use over there, but over here? When we see dissociation, we call it out as a flag. I’m the one with dreams so vivid I’m afraid to go to sleep. For fuck’s sake, Jan.

[zebulontheplanet]

I don’t talk about my mental health here much because well, this is mostly an autism page. But I think it’s good to bring awareness to all things. As some people know, I was recently sorta diagnosed with bipolar type Schizoaffective. It’s been a journey for sure. We’re still figuring out things and starting treatment. If it’s bipolar, it’s bipolar, if not, it’s another mood disorder similar to bipolar.

Hypomania has been something I have experienced multiple times but never realized was hypomania and thought it was simply ups from BPD, which I am formally diagnosed with. I never before realized that my days of being so high, weren’t BPD. However, hypomania has caused many things, and I’d like to talk about it.

Disclaimer: Hypomania is a Bipolar term. And is not something people with BPD or other mood disorders experience.

Hypomania has caused me to take on a religion I do not believe in and become obsessed with it. It’s a full on delusion. Hypomania has made it so I joined an online cult and put all my time into it. Hypomania has meant that I don’t sleep for days at a time (i sleep!! Just less than 3 hours at a time. More like naps.) I go high, do everything, do adventurous things and things I wouldn’t normally do, then I crash and sleep for a few hours, then I’m back at it again.

Hypomania is SCARY to me. It causes extreme paranoia, extreme mood swings, and extreme ups and downs in my moods.

It causes me to self harm, to hurt myself, to do things to my health that I wouldn’t in my right mind do. I won’t use my mobility aids, I’ll stop taking my medication, I’ll convince myself I’m unstoppable. I’ll walk miles even though my body can’t physically handle it. I’ll be in less chronic pain, if any, and therefore think I’m cured and on top of the world. I think I’m superior, I get shit done that I haven’t done in months and manically clean, organize, and yeah. My hypomanic episodes are not for the weak.

I get frustrated easily, I say rude things, I ruin, or almost ruin relationships with my carelessness and anger. I think of breaking up with my fiancé, even though I love them very much and would NEVER want to do that.

Hypomania is not a silly thing. I almost ruin my life EVERY SINGLE TIME. It’s hard to deal with hypomania. It’s hard to deal with me when I’m hypomanic. I’m hyper, I’m high. I’m all over the place. My heart races, and I feel like I just took a drug. I’m not myself. Me hypomanic is NOT me.

I wish more people realized that hypomania wasn’t just some silly thing, that it wasn’t something that is just silly goofy intrusive thoughts that you do. That it wasn’t just dying your hair and spending some money. (Although some people do that during hypomanic, it’s just so much more than that!!!) Hypomania is life changing. Realizing you’re hypomanic is life changing. Realizing that all your life those big highs and lows were something is life changing.

Don’t undermine hypomania. Don’t say that it’s not life ruining. Don’t say that it’s not “that bad”. It’s bad. Some people experience more calm hypomanic episodes, and I have DEFINITELY experienced more calm ones. But my hypomania is extreme most of the time. Let’s stop undermining hypomania. It’s a lot, and I wish more people realized that.

[fumifooms]

Laios Touden and autism; admiring the non-human

Do you think people exaggerate when they scream about Laios being autistic? Do you feel like it’s weird that so many people including autistics are so set on Laios, the problematic (but incredible and kind) king TM, being the most autistic that has ever autisticed? Why do we cheer on autistic people wanting to be monsters?? Isn’t that weird?

Well, of course it depends on the way it’s done, it can be done quite offensively, but long story short Kui blew it out of the park. The thing is, autistic people really do like monsters and animals and robots. Nonhuman does not mean subhuman, it just means Other. Feeling a connection with them has been shown to be an extremely common autistic experience for that very reason.

Because some people don’t understand why we autistic Tumblr Laios stans cheer “autism! Autism!” whenever he talks about monsters and feeling alienated to humans so! Here’s a post about how yes even research papers are analyzing the special connection we form with animals. I’m not even joking but Laios Touden & the mass cries of relatability with autistic people he gets and all the love for him could be used as study material and evidence for future papers because the link is that strong. Oh also I think it’s notable that being autistic and undiagnosed vs diagnosed makes a huge difference. In my experience as someone who was undiagnosed up until 18, it’s even more alienating to not know that there’s a reason why you’re different, being gaslit that you’re ‘normal’ and you just need to try harder and get with the program, etc. Personally when getting diagnosed I went through the 5 stages of grief because the thought of having been fundamentally different all your life (a difference which you will never be able to change) and mistreated for it when you weren’t “wrong” all along makes you unload all the anger and sadness and loneliness and sheer trauma you’ve built up over time. Like it’s world shattering.

So! Back to seeing dogs as family. Also I implore you to value experiential evidence when it comes to autism and other neurodivergences because brains are complicated and neurotypicals not being able to understand us well even with scientific research is like, a whole thing even though we’re right there speaking about how we feel and being right every time because the topic is literally us and how we experience the world. 

Disclaimer for this whole post that, of course, no group is a monolith and everyone has different experiences or can diverge from the norm of the group, and that doesn’t diminish the validity of either side! Like, I know autistic people who have trauma with dogs and hate them. But, trends do happen, and in this case... Autism is very “My experiences with humans make me feel dehumanized in a bad and lonely way so instead I’ll dehumanize myself in a good and inspiring way”.

“I was treated like a failed human my entire life and you’re surprised that my response was to become a dog.” -Patricia Taxxon

It’s literally well recorded that autistic people relate to animals more than humans globally. With this post, besides spreading autistic Laios truthism and explaining why the portrayal hits so deep for so many,  I want to show in what way this is a very specific experience and not looking at his character through an autistic lense really misses a lot of why he’s everything that he is. (Tacking allegedly onto here for legal reasons, different interpretations are valid etc etc /gen). This honestly isn’t super long though.

To define an important term, anthropomorphism in the studies and in this post means to attribute human traits to the nonhuman, which not only includes anthro furry designs but also animals irl, inanimate objects, and animated media as opposed to live action, to humanize them and empathize with them.

Paper: https://www.liebertpub.com/doi/10.1089/aut.2019.0027 

“Dogs taught me how to hunt and socialize and work in groups”, Laios having internalized body language... So real so real. I, too, make a great dog impression. And I want to emphase the part that it helps greatly develop a sense of emotions and relationships! For Laios, he didn’t get along with kids his age, it was him, Falin and the dogs against the world. Since it’s a group of dogs too, it taught him group dynamics and social hierarchies (like with Falin being considered as being below the dogs in authority according to the dogs rip), and the importance of group coordination when hunting.

For me, I cannot like, concisely explain just how much animals were important to me developmentally. I also grew up with dogs, but like I vividly remember encounters with like hamsters as well just radically shaping my understanding of boundaries, the importance of giving something space and the way you interact with them and respect their side of it. Unlike humans they don’t really mask how they feel, it’s direct cause-effect reaction and data gathering. There are no words involved, so the focus on having a perfect phrasing and tone is gone, leaving just pure interactions. 

There’s also no reason to mask how you feel either, and you don’t have to feel silly over wanting to form a connection and it showing, what, is the dog gonna laugh at you because you obviously want to make friends with it? Toshiro or Kabru might, but dogs and cats will just tell you to fuck off and leave it there worst case scenario. I often say that I think one reason Marcille is special to Laios and he feels comfortable around her is because she emotes INTENSELY, she gestures, she puts her whole body into it, her facial expressions are pretty exaggerated and her ears even emote too- like with a dog’s ears!

I think there’s def also things to be said about how he gravitated towards Izutsumi at first, all excited, was eager to sleep in the same bed as her, but in the Izutsumi sleep rating chart we see they really just casual and chill so it’s not a Laios talking to Shuro deep into the night situation just a “I like sleeping besides animals” situation and that is enough to hype him up. I love how he pet her in the extra about why Chil let her sleep with him too. He’s just so transparently eager to befriend her, even if in the end they weren’t all that compatible and he accepted that.

There are honestly so many examples I could give for this. Like Grandin the famous cow lady.

More about autism & empathy:

https://www.spectrumnews.org/news/double-empathy-explained/ (Also mentions a study in which groups of autistic, allistic then a mixed group played a game of telephone and both singular groups had similar levels of information retention, but the mixed group was significantly worse. As an autistic person yeah duh, obviously autistic people are different from one another and can have plenty of interpersonal issues, but communicating with other neurodivergent people feels pretty intuitive and straightforward and comfortable. One of the reasons why neurodivergent people tend to naturally gravitate towards each other I suppose.) 

^ Paper: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5932358/  For good, extensive summary of why we relate to animals so much you can go to the “anthromorphizing and asd” section of the paper. This paper extends to our widespread liking of cartoons and robots as well. Ok so this is a whole thing I won’t get into here but this is a big reason why a lot of autistic people are agender leaning as well. Genders and queerness in general is a lot about social constructs, and being queer is being marginal to these, not fitting into boxes or challenging those social norms and conventions. Queerplatonic relationships are a great example of this, where the framework of the relationship is platonic but the intangible nature of what it is exactly is the point, not familial not anything but everything at once too, just adoration, I like to say having pets is a bit like it as well, bc obvi it’s not romantic and often not fully familial, very platonic but also sooo much cuddling and adoration and kissing and whatnot that you wouldn’t typically do with a friend or family member. I’ll talk about qpr and labels another day though.

I got carried away but queerness in Dunmeshi is something I 100% want to make a big post on one day. Experiencing the world with different guidelines and not registering things to have the same boxes, sigh. Personally I also relate to Laios on a gender level, “cis by default because I don’t care all that much but if I were to dig deeper I’m probably otherkin and I want to be socially associated with traits of monsters and animalistic rather than man/woman” sighh hard to be a cryptid in this day and age. I wish we had a term like furry but for monsters, I want to be in the fantasy or folk tale genre ty, like changelings. Goshh changelings... You know, the irl myth where people said their neurodivergent kids were fairies’ children instead of human. Diminished physical sense of self means I see myself as some unknowable black  void aesthetic wise, but like in a way that simultaneously makes me feel seen. Like becoming a monster, losing your sense of self but also somehow just being simplified and seen for what you are, it’s weird to try and explain. This post is more about relating to the nonhuman than about seeing yourself as such, but like connect the dots right, that IS an important point of Laios’ character. It’s because our brains literally work different than allistics which makes us feel as other, but also because of social ostracization and functioning in a different way than society at large, living in the margin of society, being weird and non-conforming.

Meanwhile, animals and social norms... Like ok, showing your neck and rolling on the ground to show that you’re friendly and harmless and play biting might not be proper. But have you considered that it’s also fun and feels very intuitive. Play with a dog in the dog’s way I promise it is so nice and freeing. Play tug of war and growl back when they growl. Hiss at your cat to tell them they do something wrong, engage with them on their level.

Autism made social life hard, but it made animals easy. Do you have anyyy idea how good it feels to mask all day every day and feel constantly misunderstood or like you’re doing a performance but then you can just, drop all of that in the company of animals and they understand you. They understand you. You form an understanding and rapport so easily.

And this whole thing with Laios is so explicit too, with the Winged Lion saying “You’re sick and tired of the human world”. Notice the choice of words. Sick and tired of the human world. Exhausted from the constraints, sick of the mind games. It really isn’t as much about loving monsters as it is about loving the nonhuman. Relating to them because you feel that you can actually understand how they work and think, and feeling like they could understand you back as well. Animals are safe.

Like I could go on about how Laios admiring even just demi-humans like orcs is because they’re socially seen as non-humans more than any true physical thing, that they’re not bound by human society and its rules and live with their own lifestyle. But it would deal myself 1000 points of psychic damage and I am not ready to cry today. It’s idealization 100%, and like, Laios DOES want to be treated as human, to be valued, but it feels like an unreachable thing meanwhile becoming a monster is instant gratification and freedom and a sense that now no one will be able to hurt you in a way that reaches you, never again shall you be defenseless, and then if people dehumanize you then that only strengthens your sense of identity as a monster and UGHH ugh ugh.

And like. This post is a mess at this point but if you want to kinda delve into the more “why” then I recommend this Patricia Taxxon video essay. It starts out on a very different topic, but it’s all about autism and finding comfort in the inhuman. Long story short is othering made us like this also animals are just simpler to intuitively get along with.

So when I post this

I mean it. I really mean it when I say he’s me. I have never felt so seen. So many conflicting emotions all wrapped so concisely yet so intangibly woven into the whole storyline so subtly. 

Not being depicted as a monster of an human being for feeling/having felt that way?? The manga understands you. The world can understand you. Other humans can understand you. You can bond with them. You can. And I think that’s a big part of Dungeon Meshi too- Laios opening up to others about how he really is and his interests, and all the bumps on the way but how it was the only way to truly get to know each other and bond. With the climax being Laios confronting head on his complex with monsters and humans, and his monster-loving side and animalistic side being exactly what saves the whole world, what saves humanity. Because Laios does value his friends, does think humanity has beautiful sides to it, he wants to help it thrive and eat and become more accepting, carving out a kingdom for misfits and demi-humans. At the end of it, transforming into a monster and being free is a daydream fantasy, and the reality of it is that Laios does belong in the world as he is, and does receive and give out love.

If you enjoyed this you’ll probably like some of my other Laios analysis!  Here’s an analysis of his succubus and what it says about his relationships with other humans. And here’s an analysis about his relationship with Shuro from his perspective.

[projectionistwrites]

FOR SCIENCE | SUBJECT 3

In which the Moon Knight alter system presents a unique opportunity to settle the nature versus nurture debate, once and for all...

Jake Lockley x afab!psychologist!reader (13.0k+)

RATING: EXPLICIT (18+, mdni) WARNINGS: fetishization of mental disorders (DID), psychoanalysis, potentially unethical scientific practices, SMUT (dom/sub dynamics, fingering, oral (f! and m!receiving), unprotected p in v sex, doggystyle, spanking, mean!Jake, degradation, dacryphilia, daddy/papi kink, cum eating, creampie, soft sex, needy/touch-starved!Jake, praise kink, dirty talk), lots of spanish NOTES: jake lockley deserves so much love. this was hard to write, i had so much i wanted to put into this chapter and i hope it all came through okay. also, i am not a native spanish speaker, but i worked really hard to make sure all of my conjugations/phrases were correct, but still, feel free to correct me! this is the final case study installment of this series, there will be one final concluding chapter (+ potentially a bonus part bc i’m feeling generous) DISCLAIMER: although i’m incredibly knowledgeable about psychology, i am NOT a professional. all psychoanalyses made throughout the course of this storyline are entirely my own, based on my own interpretations of the characters. in a similar vein, i am also not an expert on DID specifically (although i am well-read on mental disorders and diagnoses), so i apologize for any incorrect terminology or misrepresentation. don’t hesitate to call me out if i say something wrong!

← previous part | next part →

CASE STUDY: JAKE LOCKLEY

ROLE IN COGNITIVE SYSTEM: Protector

ATTACHMENT STYLE: Dismissive

CHARACTERISTICS: volatile, tenacious, arrogant, cunning, reticent; a true adrenaline junkie (engages in risky behavior in an attempt to fill his emotional deficit with a brief but intense adrenaline rush); extremely autonomous.

SPLIT FROM HOST: ??? currently unknown/unconfirmed (predicted to have emerged as a result of some feeling of physical inadequacy or repeated threats to safety; may potentially trace back to host's service in the military).

TRAUMA RESPONSE: thinks every hill is one to die on; unwilling to compromise or make sacrifices in fear of revealing vulnerability; maintains face no matter the consequence.

SEXUAL PRESENTATION: demanding, excitable, impetuous, unapologetic, aggressive; unafraid to take what he wants, but uncomfortable with affection.

Your heart was picking up speed as you knocked loudly against the door for the fifth time.

Surely he was inside. Where the hell else would he be? You’d texted with him just hours before—well, technically not Jake, since he refused to use a phone, but Marc—confirming that you were still good for your previously scheduled arrangement. Had he changed his mind? Did something happen?

Your anxiety got the better of you as you fished around in your jacket pocket to pull out your keyring. Steven had given you a copy of the key to their flat in case you ever needed it, or if you wanted to come over before he got home from work. You had yet to actually use it, but you figured this constituted as enough of an emergency to warrant your uninvited entrance.

You clumsily slipped the brass into the keyhole and jiggled it, twisting it until you heard the click of the lock. You silently prayed that Jake—or whoever was fronting—hadn’t engaged any of the other locks on the door that could only be unhinged from the inside. Fortunately for you, the knob twisted and the door swung open with ease, revealing the familiarity of the flat within.

It was... quiet. Not eerily so, but enough to make you proceed with caution. Everything appeared to be in order, undisturbed and in its place, but still, you felt a sense of uneasiness crawl up your spine.

You weren’t a stranger to the feeling, though. You often felt this way when you were in the company of Jake. You enjoyed his presence, and wanted to get to know him better, but still, he was unpredictable and volatile—you never knew what to expect when he was fronting. You couldn’t read him as well as the other two alters, and as someone who had an affinity for picking up on unspoken emotional cues, you weren't particularly fond of the element of surprise.

You heard a low buzz from somewhere off to your right, and as the door clicked shut behind you, you wandered towards the source of the noise on the other side of the apartment. As you grew closer, you recognized the previously indiscernible sound—humming.

“...Jake?”

You called out softly, and just as rounded the edge of the bookshelf that separated the living space from the bedroom, the door to the bathroom flew open.

The man in question strolled through the doorway, steam billowing behind him, whistling to himself, but he froze when he saw you standing before him. He quickly recovered from his initial shock, however.

“Bebita. Looks like you need to work on your patience.”

He teased, and you felt your mouth run dry as you took in his appearance. He’d clearly just finished up in the shower—there were still droplets of water rolling down his shoulders and the toned skin of his chest and abdomen, trailing southbound where a white towel hung lowly on his hips. You could see the dark hair of his happy trail against his navel, the towel very loosely covering his modesty. His hair was wet and tussled, curls falling across his forehead, and you’d be lying if you said this wasn’t one of the most attractive sights you’d ever seen in your life.

Much to your chagrin, he seemed to pick up on the effect that his appearance had on you. You watched as his lips curled into a devilish grin, staring at you with a depraved look in his deep brown eyes that only Jake was capable of.

“Why—Why didn’t you answer the door?”

Your voice wavered slightly, betraying you in your attempt to appear collected. His head tilted slightly in question.

“Because...I was in the shower.”

Oh. Right.

You swallowed, lips downturned into a small frown, suddenly feeling sheepish at your previous concern for his safety. However, your focus returned to Jake as he slinked forward, taking a few slow, deliberate steps in your direction.

“You’re blushing, mi vida. Am I making you nervous?”

You unconsciously shook your head at his question, although you could feel your heart racing in your chest as he drew closer to you.

“No? Hm, that’s a shame. I could’ve sworn I saw you staring at my cock.”

He paused when only a foot and a half remained between you, and you felt your face grow even redder at his statement. As much as you tried to resist, as much as you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, your gaze involuntarily flickered down to glance at his crotch—you could see the outline of his hardening member through the soft material of the towel, more prominent than it had been even a few seconds prior.

A dark chuckle escaped him, and you forced your gaze back onto his face. He was grinning wickedly, gazing at you with a carnal gleam in his eye.

“Está bien, bebita. I know how much you like it. That’s why you rushed in here, isn’t it? Didn’t want to wait for papi’s cock any longer?”

Your breath hitched in your throat. Your jaw fell slack at the nickname he assigned to himself—you felt your knees grow weak. Just as you’d said—unpredictable. You certainly hadn’t expected that.

But fuck, you really liked it.

His smirk turned into a toothy grin as he observed your reaction to his taunt. One more step towards you and you were only a short distance apart. You could see moisture congregating in the divot of his collarbone, and you desperately wanted to lick at the pooled water.

“Are you going to be good for me, bebita?”

You nodded dumbly at him, any cohesive thought escaping from your brain as all you could perceive was Jake, Jake, Jake. He parroted your senseless nodding, mocking you condescendingly. Without another word, he dropped the towel from his waist and it pooled around his ankles, exposing his fully-erect member to your sight, and you swooned.

His tongue traced over his lower lip sensually, looking at you through hooded eyes. A shadow crossed his face as his mouth contorted into a sneer.

“Get on your knees.”

You obeyed before you even consciously processed the command, collapsing onto your knees before him, your abrupt fall cushioned by his discarded towel. Your mouth watered as you became eye-level with the hardness of his cock, the vein beneath the underside of his shaft just begging for your attention. You resisted, instead opting to stare up at Jake’s face expectantly, awaiting further instruction. It was clear to you that he liked to be in control.

He smirked at your complacency, his hand reaching up to lazily stroke his cock a few times, watching the way your eyes followed the movement of his hands with laser focus, your lips slightly parted in anticipation. He tilted his hips forward and slapped your cheeks with the ruddy head of his cock a few times, and you whimpered at the action, eyes squeezed shut tightly with restraint.

“Stick out your tongue for me, bebita.”

You obliged, opening your mouth wide and letting your tongue loll out past your lips. He tapped his length against the slick muscle, and you savored the familiar tang of his precum on your tastebuds as he pulled back to fist at his cock again. You whined as he withdrew from you, but he just tutted at you condescendingly, slapping your cheek once more with his member.

“Oh, pobrecita. You want papi to let you play with his cock?”

You nodded feverishly, staring up at him through your lashes, doe-eyed. He pouted his lip out in a look of mock pity before removing his hand from his length.

“Go on, then, bebita.”

You lurched forward, your tongue flexing to lick a long stripe on the underside of his cock, tracing the jagged vein that had enticed you earlier. He hummed at the action, watching as you eagerly lifted your hands to begin slowly pumping the velvety skin of his shaft, your lips suctioning around the flushed tip and tongue dipping into the slit. A low groan rumbled deep within his chest as you bobbed your head, eyes never leaving his face as you studied each reaction he had to your movements.

“There you go, mi vida. So good for papi.”

You moaned around his cock at the repeated use of the title, and he chuckled at your obvious approval, one hand finally reaching up to card through your hair as you continued to work more of his length into your mouth.

“You gonna let papi fuck your pretty little mouth, hm?”

He pulled his hips back, removing his member from your touch and you gasped in a breath. You nodded in response to his question, opening your mouth expectantly, and he all but laughed at your eagerness.

“You want it bad, huh, bebita? You gonna ask nicely?”

“Please, papi.”

The word sounded foreign on your tongue, but your discomfort melted away when you saw Jake’s cock jump at the sound of your desperate pleading and he threw his head back in satisfaction.

“Please, fuck my face. Want to feel you in my throat. Please.”

He seemed satisfied with your begging as he wrapped both of his hands in your hair, tilting your head upward and guiding your towards his awaiting length. When your hands reached up to rest on his thighs, he pulled back, hissing at you.

“No, mi vida. Hands behind your back. Don’t make me tell you again.”

You clasped your hands behind yourself obediently, opening your mouth again, and you finally felt the fat tip of his cock rest against your tongue.

You practically choked when he harshly thrusted into your mouth, sinking nearly his entire length into your throat without warning. Before you could even recover, he was pulling back and repeating the motion, not giving you any time to adjust to the intrusion or ease you into a rhythm. You gagged unceremoniously as he fucked your face with reckless abandon, so you tried to slacken your jaw and just take it.

“Look at you, mi llorica. So beautiful when you cry for me, with my cock in your mouth.”

You could barely see him through the blur of tears as they rolled down your cheeks, mixing with the saliva that was foaming around your lips and dribbling down your chin. He picked up his pace, grunting with each motion, the head of his cock bruising the back of your throat with every forward thrust. He was guiding your head forward and backward in time with his movements, successfully burying himself into your face.

“You want me to cum down your throat, bebita? Going to take everything papi gives you?”

You garbled around his length as his balls slapped against your chin, and you felt his cock throb on your tongue as he sheathed himself completely inside of you, growling out your name as he shot his load as deep into your throat as he could. Still, he challenged you more, forcing himself further and further down your throat with each spurt of cum that he released, your nose smushed against his pubic bone as you swallowed around him, trying with all of your might to prevent yourself from gagging and ruining his orgasm.

With a satisfied groan, he slowly pulled his spent member from your mouth, and you gasped harshly, sucking in a deep breath of air and finally allowing the muscles of your neck to relax. There was a soreness lingering in the back of your throat, but you relished in the feeling as you wiped the mix of spit and tears from your face with the back of your hand, staring up at the fucked-out expression that Jake offered you.

“Did so well for me, bebita. What do you say to papi?”

There was an edge to his tone, his domineering persona not faltering for even a second as your scratchy voice responded accordingly.

“Thank you, papi.”

He nodded at you approvingly, watching as you blinked up at him expectantly. He was pleasantly surprised at just how quickly you’d fallen into submission—he thought he might have to coax you into cooperating with him, but it was clear to him that you were eager to please, your eyes glistening with residual tears from one of the best goddamned blowjobs he’d ever had in his life.

He leaned down and clasped his hands on your shoulders, yanking you to your feet without a word. You saw his eyes flicker down to your swollen, spit-soaked lips, but his gaze was hard as he took a step away from you, as if to resist the temptation to kiss you.

“Strip. Hands and knees, on the bed for me. Now, bebita.”

You didn’t protest as you hastily heeded his words, shedding your layers of clothing and tossing them to the floor before you scampered back towards the bed, crawling to your hands and knees in the center, head facing towards the pillows. You could hear Jake creeping up behind you, but you resisted the urge to turn your head and follow his movements, opting instead to squeeze your eyes shut and wait.

You weren’t afraid of Jake. Of course you weren’t. You knew he’d never hurt you—not unless you wanted him to. Nonetheless, you knew what he was capable of—actually, that was the thing. You didn’t know what he was capable of, but still, you could see the thinly-veiled chaos that swirled behind his coffee-colored irises, could sense the firm restraint he forced upon himself when he was around you, holding some unnamed beast at bay on your behalf. It scared you, but also sparked something inside of you—a primitive, savage excitement as he stalked you like his prey. Was it wrong if you secretly hoped he’d unleash the mayhem that resided within him, let himself go? God only knows the man deserved an outlet in which to channel his frustrations.

You felt the mattress dip down behind you, Jake kneeling on the bed behind your bowed position—your nerves spiked at the vulnerability you displayed, exposed as you practically felt his eyes tear through your body with crazed, wanton desire.

You were surprised to feel a soft caress on your hips, his rough fingers delicately ghosting over the supple skin on your waist. It was comforting, soothing, and surprising—a needed reassurance under his scrutinizing gaze. You felt his lips brush softly against the tender flesh of your left buttock, and you relaxed slightly, letting yourself sink down to your forearms but keeping your ass raised with the arching of your back.

“Are you ready, mi vida?”

He asked quietly, and you managed to squeak out a small ‘yes’ before sinking further into the bed and shifting your hips backs toward him in anticipation. He chuckled at your obvious eagerness, greedy for his touch, and you startled when his tender hold on your hips tightened into a bruising grip, the soft press of his lip to your left asscheek morphing until he was sinking his teeth into the flesh with a playful nip.

You yelped at the abrupt shift in demeanor, the sound earning you a sharp smack to your other cheek, his palm quickly rubbing the afflicted area to soothe the lingering sting of his spanking. You pressed your forehead into the sheet beneath you, your legs beginning to quiver with desperation.

“You’re going to stay like this, and take what I give you. Don’t move. ¿Vale, bebita?”

You nodded, but were met with another harsh swat on your backside at your lack of a verbal confirmation.

“Yes! Okay, papi, okay. Just—please.”

You were practically dripping onto the mattress beneath you, your arousal slickening your needy cunt as you desperately sought out any stimulation.

The pads of his fingers experimentally swiped through your folds without warning, and you jolted, involuntarily pushing your hips back to follow the withdrawal of his touch. Another firm slap against your opposite asscheek, a whimper escaping your lips as he scolded you.

“Stay still, bebita. Stop squirming.”

His order briefly brought you back to your first time with Marc, who had requested the same thing, but the words felt heavier when they were uttered by Jake—you knew he wouldn’t hesitate to find a way to make you comply.

When his fingers made contact with your core again, you clenched your muscles, forcing yourself to remain completely motionless, and you were rewarded with the tip of his digit just barely skimming over your clit. You whined at the sensation, but held your position.

Jake was pleased with your cooperation, but you couldn’t help but quake when you felt his tongue sweep through your folds to taste you. The spank he offered was softer, taking pity on you as he leaned forward and fully sank his mouth into your awaiting cunt. You mewled, fingers twisting into the fabric of the sheets beneath you and fisting at them tightly in an effort to keep still.

He was moaning shamelessly into your sex, his method tactless, sloppy and rushed. His movements weren’t practiced and deliberate like Marc’s, nor careful and precise like Steven’s—no, Jake was eating you out like a man starved, greedily mouthing at every part of you and reveling in the sounds that escaped your lips.

His hand lifted and he sank two fingers into your entrance, curling them forward frantically as his mouth latched onto your clit. He was working you to your orgasm quickly, hurriedly, desperate to feel you clamp down around him and cry out his name.

Your thighs were beginning to tremble. He must’ve sensed you were close, because he doubled his efforts, the vibrations from his growling buzzing through your flesh and pushing you over the precipice. On its own accord, your body lurched back towards him, your cunt grinding back against his face as your eyes rolled, your walls contracting around his digits and your juices leaking onto his awaiting tongue.

You felt dizzy, faint, your efforts to hold yourself upright through your climax exhausted you, and when you came down from your intense high, you felt Jake draw himself away from you, slow and intimidating. You felt your pulse spike as you awaited whatever came next. His large hand caressed your ass, gently smoothing over your soft flesh in back-and-forth motions.

“Sabe a miel, bebita. Such a pretty little pussy.”

His touch on your skin halted, and you felt his body lean over your back, his lips coming to brush against the nape of your neck.

“But you didn’t follow my instructions, pobrecita. You need to learn how to listen.”

You cried out when his hand swatted at your abused clit, your body jumping at the painful sensation in an attempt to escape his cruel attack. You felt one arm snake beneath your stomach to hold you upright, his forearm pressing your hips back towards him and keeping you there.

“I let you cum, even after you moved when I told you not to. Do you like being a brat, hm?”

You shook your head—another smack to your cunt, and you whimpered.

“No! No, m’sorry, papi, I—”

“Don’t you think I’ve been generous? Spoiling you? And still, you’re ungrateful, bebita.”

Your body flinched in preparation for the next blow, but instead, you felt his lips tenderly brush a kiss to the flesh of your ass.

“Compórtate. I think I need to teach you how to mind your manners.”

He slapped your ass again, harder than before, and you could feel the lingering sting forming a welt across your skin. He hummed.

“What do you say to papi, hm? For being so good to you?”

“Thank you, papi.”

You whimpered, tears starting to dampen the sheets beneath your face. Your appreciation earned you a soothing hand across the flesh he'd just struck.

“That’s right. Five more times, bebita.”

You sobbed in protest, body trying to pull away from him, but his arm wrapped around your torso forced you into place. He cooed at you.

“It’s okay, pobrecita. You’re going to say thank you after every single one, and then papi will fuck you. ¿Sí?”

He didn’t wait for your response. He smacked your clit, the sting burning its way through your lower belly. You choked back another sob.

“Th—thank you, papi.”

You stuttered, voice barely audible from where your cheek was smushed into the bedding, but Jake took pity on you. Two, three, four more times—the final blow landed sharply against your cunt, and you whimpered out your gratitude, eyes squeezed shut tight and your lip starting to freckle with blood from where you’d held it between your teeth.

He placed gentle kisses on your lower back, your ass, as far as he could reach, his arm still supporting your weight while the other came to softly smooth over your hip. Your mind was cloudy, your body completely surrendering to Jake’s will as you descended into subspace, clinging to his approval.

“You want my cock, mi vida?”

He asked gruffly, and you could feel his hardened length prod against your behind as he leaned further over you to press more kisses on your shoulders. You whined.

“Yes, papi, please, want you inside me, please—”

He shushed you calmly, sitting back to kneel behind you. He lifted your hips higher in the air with his arm, and you felt the flushed head of his cock brush across your soaked folds once, then twice. You mewled.

Without warning, Jake sank into you, bottoming out with one harsh stroke as his balls pressed against your puffy clit. You cried out, legs turning to jelly and giving out from beneath you, but he held you upright, keeping you stable in his arms.

“Mierda. Your little cunt is swallowing me, bebita.”

He withdrew slowly, and you could feel each ridge of his length as he pulled out until just the tip remained. Even though you braced yourself, you couldn’t prepare for the way he slammed back into you, his pelvis flush against your tailbone as you cried, pleasure sparking at the bottom of your spine in spite of the pain.

Jake’s pace was relentless, unforgiving, hips snapping forward over and over, the sound of skin slapping skin drowned out by your pathetic sobbing as your walls throbbed around his member. His teeth were bared as he railed into you, intently watching the place his cock was splitting you open.

“Carajo, you’re squeezing me so tight—going to cum for you, bebita.”

He practically growled as he speared you, and another orgasm was ripped from you with a particularly harsh thrust of his hips. Your cunt clamped down around him as he let out a long, low whine, hips stuttering at the sensation.

He let you collapse into the bed as he began frantically jerking his cock, pulling out of you just in time to shoot his load all across the reddening flesh of your ass. He let out a series of grunts, coupled with Spanglish expletives as he thrusted into his fist, his head thrown back in bliss. You felt globs of his hot spend settle onto your skin, streaking your backside with his seed as he panted above you, falling back onto his heels as he drank in the aftermath of his intense orgasm that was now painting your skin.

The moments that followed blurred together as you drifted aimlessly in the wakes of your pleasure, eyes fluttering in their attempt to keep you awake. Jake left you for several minutes, the absence of his body heat making goosebumps erupt across your skin, but you were too exhausted to move.

When he finally returned, you felt him softly dab the remnants of his ejaculate from your back before he gently shifted you onto your back, tucking an arm beneath your knees and the other around your shoulders as he hoisted you into the air. You whimpered slightly at the soreness in your muscles, your head falling limp against his bare shoulder as he carried you off. You weren’t consciously aware of your surroundings, but the sensation of warm water surrounding you helped ease the ache in your bones and clear the haze that had overtaken your mind. Jake gently lowered you into the bathtub, carefully tilting your head back to rest against the ceramic edge as you let out a relieved sigh, sinking into the welcoming heat of the water.

You felt as if you’d only blinked when you awoke, the water around you now lukewarm and the candle that had been burning beside you melted to the wick. You shifted yourself upward, hissing slightly at the soreness in your thighs, but you forced yourself to stand and exit the tub.

Silence surrounded you as you leaned to pull the plug from the drain before you noticed the plush white towel that had been folded neatly and left on the lid of the toilet for you. You gratefully reached it and wrapped it around your body, noticing the pruning of your fingertips.

How long had you been asleep?

You tentatively creaked open the bathroom door and peered outside into the apartment. It was dark, and empty, for all you could see, and you took a few cautious steps out into the room.

“Jake?”

You said softly, your soft call sounding much too loud in the quiet of the space. You proceeded forward towards the bed, shrouded only in light from the single lamp that was lit from across the way. Your clothes had been folded neatly and left in a pile at the foot of the bed, and you saw a small piece of paper settled on top. A note.

You picked it up and scanned it over once, then twice. You could tell this was Jake’s handwriting—it was a messy scrawl with an evident slant, the letters each written harshly with sharp lines. It was different from Steven’s languid scribbling, his words swirling together with smooth, clean strokes, and also from Marc’s, whose blocky penmanship was unmistakable. You couldn’t marvel at the fact that all three alters had markedly distinct handwriting, though, too focused on the content of the message to give it a second thought.

Went out for a drive Text when you get home See you tomorrow.

JAKE

You frowned slightly, heart feeling heavy in your chest as you forced yourself into your clothes. You checked the time—11:28. You’d conked out for nearly two hours, and you wondered how long ago Jake had stepped out. Was he waiting for your text in order to come back home? Waiting for you to leave so he didn’t have to see you?

You had absolutely no right to be upset, you knew. You should be grateful that he was sticking to his ordinary routine after your sexual encounter in honor of your experiment, but still, a pang of hurt bloomed in your chest. You briefly returned to the bathroom to blow out the flickering lavender candle before heading out the door, your legs wobbly as you trekked the two blocks back to your own apartment.

It was nearly midnight when you finally got home. You reached for your phone and shot the boys a brief message.

made it back safely x

A response came in barely thirty seconds later.

I'm so sorry Y/N He shouldn't have done this to you M

You fell into your bed immediately, eyes skimming Marc’s words, your lips pursing slightly. You let out a long sigh before typing your reply.

it's ok marc, i promise he didn’t do anything wrong i had a nice bath! :) tell jake i said goodnight xx

You connected your phone to the charger before setting it on the nightstand, quickly turning over and sinking into your pillow, trying to ignore the tears that were stinging the back of your eyes.

Your phone buzzed with a final message.

Sleep well baby Hope you give him hell tomorrow M

POINTS OF CONTENTION:

- slowing down

- embracing vulnerability and confiding in others

- accepting intimacy and allowing raw emotion

TREATMENT: - patience, foreplay - allowing himself to feel - aftercare (!)

You were, in fact, not going to give him Hell. Just the opposite, actually.

Jake spent too much of his time letting his demons possess him. Perhaps he needed a little taste of Heaven to show him what he's missing.

“Hi, Jake.”

You greeted shyly when the door swung inward. He leaned against the doorframe slightly, looking at you down the length of his nose. He didn’t say anything—just watched you. Studied you. Observing. After a few brief moments, you cleared your throat.

“Can I—uh, can I come in?”

A beat passed before he finally sidled back into the apartment, opening the door just enough to let you slip inside. Your side brushed against his front when you passed him, and the lingering smell of cigarette smoke clung to his white shirt. Oh, Steven would be livid.

You didn’t wait for an invitation before plopping down on one end of the sofa. Jake quirked a brow at your forwardness, and you signaled with the jerk of your head for him to join you on the other end. He offered a slow, dramatic roll of his eyes before seating himself beside you.

“What time did you get home last night?”

You asked quietly, fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you avoided his gaze. He breathed out a slow breath.

“Not too late. Hardly slept, though—your boyfriend wasn’t very happy with me. Kept me up all night, nagging at me.”

You frowned, finally noticing the deep purplish bags that had settled beneath his eyes. His curls were spilling out from beneath the brim of his flat cap.

“I’m sorry, Jake. Marc isn’t s’posed to be bothering you—it’s your weekend.”

He waved a dismissive hand, turning to settle further into the couch as he stared at some point straight ahead of him.

“No pasa nada. I’m used to it.”

He shifted in his seat slightly, his brows furrowing, and you could tell that he was receiving an earful from Marc.

“I’m—I guess I’m sorry, mi vida, if I upset you.”

You shook your head derisively.

“No, Jake, it’s—you’re fine. That’s what I asked you to do—treat me like any other girl.”

He let out a humorless bark of a laugh, knuckles rubbing over the stubbled skin of his jaw.

“Any other girl wouldn’t have gotten to see my bed, bebita.”

He noticed the perplexed look on your face and offered a sigh.

“It’s not...often, that I sleep with anyone like this. Usually it’s in the back of my cab, or a quick one in a closet—tienes suerte, mi vida. It’s rare they ever see me a second time.”

You felt a deep sadness wash over you at his confession. All Jake knew were rushed, meaningless hookups, no strings attached and no obligations. One and done.

“Is that why you didn’t kiss me, yesterday?”

Jake looked startled by your question, eyes widening marginally as his brows furrowed deeply. His lips set into a straight line, his jaw clenching tightly.

“I did kiss you. A lot.”

He insisted softly. You shook your head.

“No, Jake. A real kiss. You wouldn’t do it. Are—Is that not usually a part of your... you know?”

His knee began anxiously bouncing, his discomfort making itself evident to you.

“No sé. Never really thought about it before.”

You stood from the couch, and his stare followed your movements sharply as you crossed the short distance between you, stepping forward to stand between his spread legs. He looked up at you with dark, brooding eyes, uncertainty churning just beneath the surface. You slowly moved to sit on his lap, your thighs slotting on either side of his hips so you were straddling him. His hands mindlessly settled on your waist, his touch timid and delicate. Your fingers smoothed over his chest as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Can I kiss you, Jake?”

His lips silently parted, a flash of fear briefly flickering over his features as he gazed up at you longingly. His nervousness was palpable, his hesitancy evident through the tension in his shoulders and the crease between his brow. He didn’t offer you a response, so you carefully began leaning your face towards him, tilting your head so your nose brushed against his. You felt his stuttering exhale fan out across your face before you finally let your lips brush over his own.

It was soft, and tentative, as if he was unsure of how to respond or worried he would somehow break you. You pressed your mouth a bit firmer to his, melding against him. You wished, hoped he could feel all your emotions come through the kiss—how much you cared for him, how much you wanted to show him that. Maybe your manifestation worked, because after his few fleeting seconds of unresponsiveness, you felt him sink into the feeling, one arm traveling from your waist up your back to cradle the back of your head in his hand.

He shifted beneath you, trying to pull you closer, as if you weren’t already on top of him. You could feel the stiffness vacate his muscles as the kiss grew feverish, desperate, his lips moving against yours hastily and messily. His free hand began to roam the expanse of your back as he pressed his torso into your own, your nose smushing against his cheek as he gripped you tighter.

He whined when your tongue swiped across the seam of his mouth, his lips immediately parting to allow you access. You dove in to taste him, the stale tobacco and faint mint of his toothpaste overtaking your senses and inebriating you with the distinctive flavor of Jake. His own tongue began to tussle with yours as he mirrored your actions, your teeth clashing messily as he all but tried to swallow you whole.

You pulled back abruptly, gasping in a breath, and his mouth chased yours in a frantic attempt to maintain contact. You felt his hips instinctually rut up against you, his hands still pulling you tightly against his body as he nuzzled into your neck, inhaling the scent of your soft skin.

“Slow down, Jake, take it easy.”

You placed both of your hands on either one of his shoulders and forced him to relax against the couch, his body following your guidance as he sank backwards at your request. His eyes were practically crazed, his lips swollen and ruddy as he looked up at you with a half-lidded gaze, chest heaving with panted breaths.

“Oh, hermosa.”

His muttered, his grip pulling you back to his chest as he surged forward to hungrily meet your lips again, his hands beginning to claw over every inch of your body he could reach, trying to feel all of you. You pushed him away again, more forcefully this time, and he fell backwards with a grunt.

“Hey, relax. It’s okay, I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

A flicker of sadness glinted briefly in his dark eyes, a blink-and-you'll-miss-it expression, but you caught it. You offered him a soft, assuring smile, grabbing the hat from his head and tossing it to the side so you could sink your fingers into his hair. He leaned back into your touch as your nails gently scratched at his scalp, a soft, breathless moan breaking from his lips as his eyes fell shut. You leaned forward and pressed a single kiss to the exposed skin of his throat.

“Come on, handsome.”

He was reluctant to loosen his hold on you, but you reached for his hand and clutched his fingers tightly so he could still feel you touching him somewhere. You led him over to the bed, pausing at the foot of it and gesturing with a nod of your head for him to lay down. He quirked a brow at you, lips curling into a mischievous grin.

“You going to punish me for being so hard on you yesterday, bebita?”

You weren’t oblivious to the excitement that shone in his eyes—he seemed enticed by the possibility of you torturing him in a similar vein to Marc, and you figured that was some information you could keep in your back pocket for future reference.

Instead, you let out a saccharine giggle—it was sickeningly sweet, cloyingly so, and Jake might’ve gotten a toothache from the sugar if it weren’t for the softness with which you crept over his splayed-out body, sinking your front against his as you pressed a featherlight peck on his lips.

“No, Jake. Nothing like that.”

You let your weight settle onto him, straddling his lap and letting your chest fall flush against his as you kissed him again—he mouthed at you hungrily, trying to force his tongue into your mouth, fighting for dominance, and you gently pulled away.

“Hey, tough guy. What’s your rush?”

His brows furrowed, gaze flickering from your eyes and down to your dewy lips, his pupils blown wide. You smiled sweetly at him.

“Slow down, okay? There’s no hurry, really. Let me just feel you.”

He blew out a huff of air before your lips were on his again, and he heeded your request, letting you take the lead as your poured all of your passion into the kiss. It was slow, deep, intimate, your fingers sliding beneath the hem of his shirt and across the hot skin of his torso, pushing the material up as you went. You slowly drew back to discard the article of clothing before immediately latching your mouth to his, slow movements still heavy and dripping with desire. You finally parted his lips with the swipe of your tongue, and you felt his fingers sink into your hair, tilting his head for a better angle with which to lavish you.

You could feel him getting greedier as he pressed his body up into your warmth, hands sliding down the expanse of your back and making a move to rip your shirt from your body. You pulled back suddenly, giving him a warning look.

“Hey. Slow.”

You reminded, and he stuttered out an exhale, his fingers gradually raising your shirt above your head as he tossed it to the side. His eyes ravished your body as his fingers traced along the newly exposed skin of your sides, his touch softly skimming your curves before coming up to cup at your breasts. You smiled sweetly down at him as he pressed a few fervent kisses to your collarbone. His dark eyes found yours, lips parted provocatively as he silently asked for your permission. You nodded gently, and his fingers trembled with restraint as he slowly reached around to unclasp your bra.

It was taking everything within his power not to flip you over and pound into you, but something about the look in your eye—reverent, devoted, loving—he didn’t mind too much.

When your breasts exposed themselves to him, he made a low rumbling noise from the back of his throat, leaning forward to latch onto one of your nipples hastily. You tugged at his hair and he groaned in frustration.

“Jake.”

You warned, and he pressed his face down into your cleavage, his breathing ragged and shallow.

“Mierda, bebita. You like being on top so much, hm? Like being in control of papi?”

You gently pulled at his curls again, forcing his face to lift and look up at you. You regarded him softly, one of your hands coming to delicately trace over his jaw and cheekbone.

“No, honey. None of that, okay?”

His brows furrowed, and you leaned down to press a kiss against the crease between them.

“It’s just you and me. Jake and Y/N.”

He repeated your name back to you in a low murmur, as if saying it for the very first time. Actually, now that you thought about it—maybe it was. Jake had never addressed you by your name before, only used endearments to speak with you.

He seemed puzzled by your suggestion, eyes round and questioning and lost, almost uncomfortable with the proposal of having you call him by his actual name.

“You can be on top if you really want to, Jake.”

You pressed a kiss to his nose, then atop both of his fluttering eyelids, then one in the center of his hairline.

“You just—have to be patient.”

You pressed your forehead against his, letting your eyes drift shut as you took in the soft sound of his breathing, finally settling down and evening out. You felt his head tilt up to meet yours again, and you let him kiss you, his pace steady and deliberate, easing you into a rhythm. His hands slowly crawled up your spine, cradling you close to him as he licked into your mouth, his hips bucking up just slightly when you gently tugged at his lower lip with your teeth. He pulled away, shaking his head at your flirtatious action and giving you a playful glare before mouthing gently at your jawline, down your neck and behind your ear. When you leaned into his touch, he sank his teeth in and suckled a deep red mark into your skin, earning a soft whimper in appreciation. His lips stayed pressed against you as they trailed down the column of your neck, along your collarbone and shoulder, and finally down to the flesh of your breasts.

You breathed out a low moan when he placed wet open-mouthed kisses along the top curves of your chest, slowly teasing lower until his teeth scraped your hardened nipple and his lips puckered around it. His hand came to palm at your other breast, kneading at the doughy flesh as he stared up at you seductively through his lashes.

“Fuck, Jake.”

You whimpered, and the sound of his name rolling so deliciously off of your tongue caused his hips to grind up against you once more. When he was satisfied with the array of red and purple marks he’d imprinted on your skin, he dragged his face back up to your own and pressed his lips to yours once again.

You were impressed with his restraint. You could feel the hardness in his muscles, see the tension in his thick shoulders as he forced himself to take his time instead of jumping your bones from the start. You hummed against his mouth before pulling yourself away and off of his lap, your fingers slowly trailing down the length of his torso before settling on the buckle of his jeans.

His breath stuttered at the action, his abdominal muscles contracting as he awaited your next move. You gently reached down to palm at his bulge through the layers of fabric and he groaned throatily, his eyes fluttering shut at the much needed stimulation. Your fingers deftly worked to unloop his belt before unbuttoning his jeans, and he lifted his hips to assist you in pulling them off of him.

When he was left in just his briefs, you pressed gently against his shoulder to make him lay back down and relax. He sank back into the pillows, propped up so he had a decent view of you between his legs, your fingers teasingly stroking over his length through the thin cotton of his boxers. He hissed.

“Estás una calientapollas. Please, hermosa. Y/N.”

He saw the way your eyes darted to his face at the sound of your name, your lips parting and your fingers ceasing their gentle sweeping motion over his cock. You held his gaze as you slowly reached up towards the waistband of his briefs and coaxed them down his legs, freeing his member that had been straining against the fabric.

After you’d tossed his final undergarment aside, you settled back between Jake's legs, your hands stroking each of his inner thighs softly, watching as he pulled his lip between his teeth. Your left hand slowly, slowly crept upwards until it ghosted over the silky skin of his shaft, his body shuddering in response to your touch. You waited until his eyes were open again, watching you, before leaning forward and letting a pool of your saliva drip from your lips and onto his awaiting cock. He keened at the sight, his hips jerking just slightly as you finally wrapped your hand around the base and began to stroke him at a treacherously slow pace.

“Mierda. Fuck.”

He grunted quietly, trying to keep his hips still as you started to pump him a bit faster, glittering eyes staring up at him reverently. It was dizzying, the way you gazed up at him with such infatuation. It almost made him nauseous.

You slowly leaned down and licked the precum from his leaking slit before letting your lips wrap around the head, swirling your tongue languidly over the tip, watching his face scrunch up in pleasure.

You briefly pulled back to press kisses up along his entire length, coupled with soft caresses of your fingertips. It was clear to you that Jake was beginning to feel frustrated—his hands were buried in his hair, head thrown back against the bed as if attempting to subdue his desires.

You took him back into your mouth, working him slowly over with your tongue and swallowing him down bit by bit, agonizingly slow. You could feel Jake’s thighs tensing around you, his hands flying from his head to fist at the sheets on either side of his body.

When you gagged around his cock, he lost his composure. You made a startled choking sound when you felt his hand against the back of your head, pressing you down onto his length as his hips bucked up to try to sink into your throat. You immediately recoiled, and Jake nearly whined, his eyes desperately pleading with you to grant him some release. You weren’t taking any pleasure in seeing him like this—this wasn’t your end goal.

“You going to edge me like Marc, huh? Want to hear me beg?”

His voice broke off slightly, his frustrations venting through his lips as he almost glared at you. You sat up, moving to straddle his waist once more so you could press your lips to his again.

“No, Jake, I told you, I’m not. I just—Let me take care of you. Wanna show you how much you mean to me, wanna—wanna worship you, wanna make you feel good—”

His brows furrowed as you rambled slightly, your eyes big and round and glassy. He was confused—what exactly was it that you wanted from him?

“Let me fuck you, mi vida—make us both feel good with me inside you, hm?”

“No, Jake, just—hang on, that’s not—”

“Then what? Want to see if I can be as vanilla as your little Steven?”

“I want to make love with you, Jake.”

His breath resembled something of a gasp as his eyebrows shot up nearly to his hairline, disappearing beneath his curls while his eyes widened almost comically at your hasty confession. You cringed inwardly at your forwardness, taking in the expression of sheer panic on Jake’s face that had him looking like a deer in headlights. You sighed, leaning forward to press your forehead into his chest in an attempt to hide your face from view.

“Fuck. Sorry. I just—I don’t want you to feel like you have to rush through this. I’m sorry, I just—I want—want you to enjoy it, want you to let yourself feel it, Jake.”

You could feel his heart pounding against his ribcage, his lack of response smothering you after your fervent explanation. You wanted to disappear, wanted the ground to cave in and swallow you whole—instead, silence consumed you, settling across your back like a weight that you weren’t strong enough to carry.

“That’s...a new one for me.”

His voice was quiet, sheepish, and you could feel the vibrations rumbling in his chest as you lifted your head to look at him.

“I know.”

You acknowledged quietly. He was staring at you. Dark eyes searching within yours, scanning your expression, every detail of your face, as if attempting to see straight through you. Your heart was still pounding, your face rosy with an embarrassed blush—you felt his arms shift, his hand hesitantly lifting, fingers ghosting over the skin right above the waistband of your jeans at your hips, getting about as close as he could to holding you without actually touching you at all.

You’d never seen Jake Lockley at a loss for words before, and you’d certainly never seen him look so unsure. He was always so collected, nonchalant and unfazed, never dropping his guard for more than a second before that smug smirk reappeared on his face. He took things in stride, his confidence stifling as if he was always three steps ahead of the rest of the world, always knowing what came next.

But now there was vulnerability displayed across his slacken face, a certain wariness serrating his words as he spoke.

“I’m sorry, mi vida, but I don’t—”

“You don’t have to apologize, Jake, really, I promise it’s okay.”

You reached up a hand to cradle the side of his face, fingers gliding across the stubble of his jaw as your thumb brushed over his cheek. His head instinctually tilted in the direction of your hold, turning to press a soft kiss to the palm of your hand.

“I’m sorry. This—I don’t know what I was thinking. This isn’t fair to ask of you at all, it wasn’t a part of the deal, and—we can stop here. Let’s—just tell me where you wanna go from here and we can do it. Anything.”

You breathed, looking into his eyes, your brows furrowed in remorse as you anxiously awaited his reply. He was still just looking at you, unwavering, his chest heaving slightly with each brash exhale.

You felt his fingers skate up your bare spine and you straightened at his touch, letting him gently pull you towards him until your noses were brushing again. His gaze never left yours as he drank you in, his lips parting so you could feel his warm breath against yours. After a few more grueling beats, your pulse jumping with anticipation, his closed the gap and kissed you with a tenderness you didn’t know he even possessed. He pulled himself into a sitting position, wrapping his arms around you until they enveloped you completely, your bodies melding together as his tongue traced the seam of your mouth, although he didn’t press any further—just feeling you, tasting you, savoring the sweetness that seemed to course through your veins.

You were breathless when he pulled back, although he only recoiled just enough to speak. You could feel the movement of his lips against your face as his dark eyes burned through you.

“Hermosa, I don’t—I’ve never... Nunca he hecho esto antes.”

You knew what he was saying even if you couldn’t actually understand it. Your eyes crinkled at the corners as you smiled softly at him, sliding your palms over his chest before wrapping your arms tightly around his neck.

“It’s okay, honey. I—we can figure it out together.”

He blinked rapidly at you, and if you didn’t know any better, you might’ve thought there were tears shining across his eyes. But then he was kissing you again, so softly and sincerely that it fucking hurt.

Your body was slotted perfectly against his, flush against the contours of his current position as his hands slid up and down your spine, settling lowly on your back, just above your ass. You could feel his aching arousal pressing into your heat, rubbing against the seam of your jeans as he held you against him. You let his tongue lick inside your mouth greedily before you drew away.

“Can I—Can I keep going?”

You asked softly, grinding your clothed core up against him for emphasis. A breathy whimper fell from his lips as he closed his eyes, resting his forehead against yours for a moment before slowly nodding. You slowly crawled down the length of his body, pressing gentle kisses all the way down until you found yourself settled between his legs once again, not wasting any time in wrapping your hand around his cock and giving him a few gentle strokes. He sank into the mattress, throwing his head back into the pillows as his teeth sank into his bottom lip.

“You’re supposed to enjoy this, okay? But remember, this—this isn’t just about making each other cum, it’s—wanna make you feel good. We’ll take it nice and slow. You tell me when you’re ready to—when you wanna move on, and we will, okay?”

He looked down at you, his eyes still full of doubt and hesitance, but beneath the veneer you could see the warmth of trust shining through. He nodded at you reassuringly, and the soft smile he offered was one you’d never seen from him before—so genuine and credulous that it almost resembled Steven.

Without another word, you leaned forward and let the tip of your tongue trace the driblet of precome that had begun to slide down the length of his shaft. You wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, suckling at the flesh as your hand began to stroke him steadily, wrist twisting just slightly to maximize the stimulation.

Jake let you toy with him for awhile, his hands gripping the sheets on either side of him in tight fists while he endured you doting on his throbbing cock.

When you reached to squeeze for his balls, your head sinking a bit lower onto his length, you felt his fingers wrap in your hair and gently coax you off of him, a low growl rumbling in his chest. You immediately ceased your ministrations, staring up at him attentively as he blinked slowly at you, his lip swollen from where he had been biting it.

“Do you—you want me to stop? Wanna—want me to ride you, or—”

He interrupted you with groan, throwing his head back against the pillows and squeezing his eyes shut. You could feel the muscles of his abdomen rippling.

“No, mi vida, it’s alright, whenever—you can stay down there as long as you like, I just—mierda, your mouth is so good to me, hermosa. Worried I’m gonna cum.”

He confessed, a sort of pained expression on his face. You gave him a pitying look—it wasn’t mocking, not at all, but genuine sympathy. You didn’t want to make him miserable.

“Just a little bit longer, okay, honey? I know it’s hard going so slow, I’m sorry, but—but I promise, when you finally let go, it’ll be worth it, okay?”

He smiled meekly at you, nodding as he removed his hand from your hair and returned it to its position tangled in the sheets at his side. You gave him one last reassuring glance before sinking your mouth back down onto his cock and lavishing him with more attention.

For several more minutes, he let you worship him, his hips jolting and cock twitching, although he was displaying great levels of restraint when it came to letting you dictate the speed and pace of your actions. You suckled one of his balls into your mouth, watching as he squirmed, legs kicking just slightly beside you as he mewled, his face scrunched up in pleasure.

You released him with a popping sound, finally satisfied with how you’d worked him up and extolled his cock. You crawled up his body and he eagerly welcomed your proximity, pulling you to his mouth to plant a hard, desperate kiss to your mouth. You smiled into him, fingers nestled in his curls.

“Thank you, Jake, did so well.”

You whispered, pressing gentle kisses to the expanse of his jaw as his chest heaved beneath you. He hummed to acknowledge your praise, although you could feel the tension in his muscles as he impatiently awaited your signal that you could continue.

When your eyes met his, they blinked at him, docile and alluring, and he took that as his cue to roll you onto your back so he could position himself on top of you. He pressed a few kisses to your mouth, as if he was struggling to pull himself away, before his lips traveled down your neck and collarbone, his hands popping the button on your jeans to finally have you bare beneath him. You didn’t protest when he pulled them down off of you, your panties joining them soon after. He leaned up to kiss you again, his rock-hard length dipping into your sopping folds as his body rocked against yours once, then twice, earning a low whimper from your throat.

“Go ahead, honey, I’m ready for you.”

You whispered, voice sweet, and he groaned lowly. However, he surprised you by pressing a soft peck to your cheek before sinking down the length of your body, his mouth trailing a line down the center of your torso before kissing right atop your pubic bone, brown eyes watching you closely. Your breath stuttered as you wrapped your fingers in his hair unconsciously.

“Jake, you’ve waited long enough, you don’t have to—”

“Wanna do this right, Y/N.”

He whispered, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on your clit, causing you to gasp.

“Make me feel so good, hermosa. Promised going slow is worth it—gonna make it worth it for you, too.”

You couldn’t dwell on the fluttering sensation in your chest when his mouth pressed against you, wet tongue meeting your dripping folds with attentiveness—you released a soft cry as he lapped at your entranced, the tip of his tongue prodding at your clit gently, causing you to squirm.

Jake liked to run his mouth, but now, he was silent. It's not that he didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to spur you on with filthy praise—he simply couldn’t find the words. He was absolutely hypnotized by the sight above him, bewitched by the expression of pure, unadulterated euphoria on your face at each ministration he offered. He’d never been witness to such a beautiful view before—any time he’d gone down on someone, watching their nonverbal responses to his touch simply wasn’t his priority. It had always been rushed, forceful, as he ripped orgasm after orgasm from his partner with greed and insatiability. But now—now it was you. He was in between your legs, pulling angelic sounds from your lips as your thighs quaked around his head. You were glowing, radiant, ethereal as you basked in the pleasure, and Jake finally realized why foreplay was so important—seeing you like this might be even better than the real thing.

He heeded your words. He wasn’t trying to make you cum, wasn’t speeding you towards your climax with rapid swipes of his tongue and fingers. He was savoring you, each brush of his mouth against your core was languid and indulgent. His lips puckered around your sensitive bundle of nerves, drawing slow circles around it with his tongue as your fingers fisted tighter into his curls, offering enough of a sting to make him groan around you. His tongue dipped into your entrance, lapping at your dripping arousal, your walls fluttering around his thick muscle as your hips jerked to meet his thrusts, pressing yourself against his face to chase your mounting pleasure.

This was different than the orgasms he’d granted you the day prior—this was a simmering heat, coiling lowly in your stomach, festering and building slowly as he sought out the places that made you squirm. You could feel the intensity spiking, even though his lazy speed remained constant—the way his dark eyes stayed firmly fixated on your face was dragging you closer and closer to the threshold.

“Fuck, Jake, oh God—”

You whined, and his hands slipped beneath your ass, lifting your hips to grant him a better angle at which to devour you. Your thighs were trembling, his tongue beginning to swipe over your clit in rapid side-to-side motions—the change of pace pulled a ragged wail from within you, the muscles of your abdomen squeezing tight. He couldn’t control the shameful rutting of his hips into the mattress beneath him at the sound.

“So close, Jake, yes, fuck—”

You were right on the precipice, stars clouding your vision, but right before you tipped over the edge, you yanked your hips back, lifting Jake's head away from you with your grip on his hair. He jolted, hazy eyes suddenly wide and alert as he sat back, bewildered at your abrupt departure from his lips. You squeezed your eyes shut as your orgasm dissipated, your tense muscles sinking back into the mattress as the coil loosened itself. You breathed out lowly, your lashes fluttering as you opened your arms to pull Jake against you.

“Sorry, honey, I—so good, Jake, fuck, but I—wanna cum on your cock, wanna cum with you.”

A low groan escaped him as he pressed his forehead to yours, eyes blinking closed to stave off the arousal that was singeing his insides.

“You—¿estás lista, mi vida? Are you sure?”

You nodded vigorously, pressing a kiss to his lips, and he let out a slow breath, hands sliding to your sides. Your brows furrowed when he pulled back, gently attempting to roll you onto your stomach. You reached up to grip his shoulders tightly, shaking your head.

“No, no, Jake, I want—wanna see you, wanna be close to you, please.”

There was turmoil churning behind his eyes as he stared down at you, brows furrowed heavily as he fought his internal battle. You realized he’d probably never done it like this before—if the fact that he was afraid to kiss you was any indication, you wouldn’t be surprised to learn that he’d never let himself be caught in such an intimate position.

But then his eyes softened, his hand coming to cradle the side of your face, his thumb pressing up against the swell of your lower lip.

“Okay, hermosa. Por ti hago lo que sea.”

You felt his member slide between your dripping folds, the head of his cock brushing across your clit as he guided it against your center, hearing the way your breath hitched at the feel of him over your bundle of nerves. You felt it notch at your entrance, the tip just barely breaching your folds. Jake cursed lowly under his breath, eyes glued to where his cock was about to sink into you. In spite of your desperation, your hands lifted to rest on either side of his face, forcing his eyes onto you.

“Look at me, honey. Want you to look at me when you split me open.”

“Carajo.”

He muttered, closing his eyes to steel himself before opening them again to stare into yours. You watched his lips part as he pushed into you, unbearably slow, a low moan rumbling through his diaphragm as he sank into you, only stopping when he was fully-seated within your fluttering walls.

The intimacy was stifling him. He felt lightheaded, breathless, his body hovering over yours just barely as he held himself up above you, drinking in your heavenly being—your hair was fanned out on the pillow beneath you, your pink lips slicked with saliva as your gazed up at him with doe-eyes, blinking slowly as your walls clenched around him.

“God, Jake.”

You whispered, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling so he fell against you, chest flush against your own. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, staying still inside of you for a few brief moments in order to just feel the way you surrounded him.

Slowly, carefully, he pulled back his hips, just barely, before pressing back inside of you, your moans echoing in unison as his balls nestled tightly against your ass again. He’d always been so busy chasing his release, relentlessly pounding into you that he hadn’t taken the time to appreciate just how perfectly he filled you, just how perfectly your walls clamped around his pulsing length.

“So good, mi vida.”

He groaned against your neck, repeating the motion of his hips at a more steady pace. Each thrust pressed against your cervix, causing you to whimper.

“Fill me up so nice, Jake, fuck, feels so good.”

He felt your walls clamp around him once more, and he pulled his head back slightly, lifting himself up a bit more so he could increase the breadth of his thrusts.

“Me vas a matar.”

He growled, sucking in a breath through his teeth as one hand came to palm at your breast, his eyes glued to the way the other bounced with each push of his hips forward. His eyes drifted back to the fucked-out expression on your face, your lips parted as you stared up at him, and his hips stuttered just slightly.

God, he was close already.

“Fuck, hermosa, me arruinas.”

You could feel him faltering, a bead of sweat dripping from one of his curls and down onto your chest, sliding between your breasts and down to your stomach. He watched it dribble downward, eyes dazed, his abdomen clenching as he attempted to stave off his impending orgasm.

His hand clumsily wedged between your bodies, fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in crude circles, his arm trembling just slightly. Watching him grow desperate above you was enough to spark the beginnings of your climax. You pulled him down for a bruising kiss, teeth clashing and tongues swirling as you swallowed his incessant groans.

“Wan’ you to cum with me, Jake.”

Your words were drawled, drunk on the way his cock filled you, and you could feel pleasure sparking in the base of your spine. The speed of his fingers on your clit sped up slightly, his hips struggling to maintain their cadence.

“Mierda, hermosa, oh fuck, so tight—can’t, I can’t—”

“Cum inside me, Jake.”

Your words were only a whisper as you skated along the edge of your orgasm, just barely hanging on as you desperately tried to convince Jake to let go. His eyes blew open wide at your words, grunting as his hips continued jacking forward.

“Y/N, shit, don’t—I’ve never—”

“Oh, God, fuck, I’m cumming, Jake, please, please cum with me, fuck—”

He couldn’t have stopped himself even if he tried. The rhythmic pulsing of your walls around his painfully hard cock was harrowing, gripping him so tightly that he couldn’t have pulled out even if he wanted to.

His balls drew up tight as his climax exploded.

“Oh, me vengo—mierda, fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m cumming, shit, shit, shit—”

His eyes rolled back as he nearly collapsed on top of you, his hips pistoning forward again and again as he shot his spend deep into your walls, his cock pulsing. His orgasm seemed to last minutes as his vision blacked out, brain emptying as his awareness only focused on how the pleasure zipped across his skin with each pump of cum that he released and how tightly your walls were squeezing him, milking him for all he was worth. He’d never cum so hard in his life, or so much—his seed was leaking out around his length as his body slowed to a halt, your tired cunt stuffed full of him as his cock spilled one final spurt of warm release, the head of his member settling against your cervix as he stilled, his weight bearing down on you as he went boneless.

Jake was slowly grounded back into reality at the feeling of your fingertips brushing softly across the length of his spine, your other hand buried in his curls from where his face was tucked into your shoulder. He could feel your hot lips pressed against his temple, your breathing steady and even as you regained your bearings. He forced himself to follow your inhalation patterns, attempting to slow the racing of his heart.

As the endorphins flooding his bloodstream began to thin out, his anxieties threatened to consume him once again. He pushed himself up and off of you, groaning at the soreness in his muscles and the exhaustion tingeing the edge of his movements. You could do nothing but watch him as he slowly pulled out of you, and you expected him to leave you as hastily as he had the day before—maybe he would’ve, if not for the way his eyes glued themselves to your exposed center, enthralled by the sight of his cum oozing from your fluttering hole and dripping downwards.

Your hips jumped slightly when you felt his fingers gently sweep over your cunt—his gaze never lifted as he scooped his release from where is was beginning to escape and pushed it back into you, forcing you to keep as much of him inside as you could. His eyes were dark, possessive as he tilted your hips up just slightly in an effort to stop his cum from leaking out of you.

His sudden captivation and obsession with filling you was surprising, a stark contrast from just moments before when he had desperately resisted your pleas to finish inside of you. The ghost of a smile flickered over his lips as he settled you back down, seemingly content with the show. His eyes flickered up to yours, and as soon as your gazes met, you saw the way a shadow crested his features, abruptly throwing up his guard after the unexpected vulnerability he’d just granted you.

Jake walked to the bathroom, letting the door shut behind him with a click. You pulled yourself into a sitting position, sighing as you felt the stickiness between your thighs and settling beneath you. You should clean yourself up, get dressed and head out so that—

The bathroom door swung open again and Jake walked out, a wet washcloth awkwardly held in his left hand. He stood at the end of the bed for a moment, as if unsure of what to do next. His eyes hesitantly found yours.

“Do—I’m—I haven’t done this part before, mi vida.”

He quietly admitted, offering a sheepish shrug of his shoulders. Still, your heart warmed at his efforts.

“Thought—figured I’d try what Marc does, but I don’t—”

“Thank you, Jake, that’s perfect.”

You encouraged softly, and his eyes lit up with your soft praises as he knelt down on the edge of the bed, leaning down to carefully press the cloth to your ruined core. You sucked in a sharp breath, the coldness of the water a foreign sensation in contrast to the heat that was broiling between your legs—Jake recoiled, eyes searching yours widely for direction. You offered him a lopsided grin.

“Sorry, s’just—sensitive.”

You explained, and he nodded, slowly wiping at the arousal that stained your skin. His lips were pursed as he focused on his actions, trying desperately not to hurt you. After awhile, he sighed.

“Would you—do you want Marc? Or Steven?”

Your face fell as he finished cleaning you up, tossing the towel on the floor beside the bed, before facing you, his curls falling across his forehead and into his eyes. You frowned.

“No, Jake—not unless you don’t want to—it’s okay, I can always leave if that’s—”

He let out a humorless, bitter laugh, one hand coming up to stroke at his stubbled jaw as he stared at the ceiling, clearly uncomfortable.

“No sé lo que estoy haciendo.”

You heard him mumble breathlessly, his shoulders sagging with defeat.

“Do you—will you come lay with me, Jake?”

You asked softly, as if you were speaking to a wild animal and were trying desperately not to scare it away. His eyes darted to your face, lips parting to protest, to make up an excuse, but then he shook his head at himself, crawling up towards you and seating himself beside you, his back resting against the headboard. You tentatively leaned into his side, nestling your head against his shoulder. You felt him stiffen beside you slightly, but then his arm moved to wrap around you, pulling you closer against his side.

You felt him release a breath he’d been holding as you lifted a hand to rest on his bare chest, drawing random shapes into the warm skin mindlessly.

“Why did you think I’d want Marc or Steven?”

You asked softly, your eyes watching the movement of your fingers on his chest. His hold on you tightened.

“This—s’not my job. I don’t do things like this.”

You sat upright, turning to face him fully. His eyes were hard as they looked at you.

“What do you mean, not your job?”

His lips pursed.

“You know, hermosa. You’re the doctor, hm? Steven and me, we’re—we both do something for Marc. S’why we’re here. Marc and Steven, they—they get to feel things, know people. I’m—I’m just here to make sure they’re safe, that they don’t get hurt.”

Tears pricked behind your eyes as his words registered in your brain. There was an aching sensation festering in your chest.

“No, Jake, that’s not—that’s not how this works. You’re a person, you have every right to experience things just like they do, you’re—”

“No pasa nada. This is the way things are, hermosa. I know you thought—thought you’d be able to come and figure us out, show us what’s what, but—but I already know who I am, what part I play.”

The dejection in his voice was unmistakable. There was bitterness in his words, resentment. The pain in your chest expanded.

“I protect. That’s what I do. Means I don’t get—I don’t get to have this, mi vida. What happened today—that’t not mine.”

A tear rolled down your cheek, so you turned and sank back into his side, hoping he didn’t catch your display of emotion. In spite of himself, he let you press against him, savoring the feeling of your soft skin against his own.

You were hoping he’d open himself up to you after your intimate tryst, but you obviously misread the situation—his walls had come back up, even stronger and more unwavering than before.

Perhaps he sensed your sadness. You felt him release a long sigh, his muscles going lax as he let his head fall against the headboard.

“Lo siento, hermosa. I—you deserve better than what I can give you.”

Your head turned to gaze up at him, finding his eyes staring straight ahead at a random focal point. You felt your heart crack a bit.

“Stop, Jake, don’t say that. That’s not true, I don’t—”

“It’s okay, mi vida. I appreciate what you tried to do for me today. Significa mucho para mí.”

He swallowed, and when he finally looked down at you, the warmth he’d been unabashedly displaying for you had been replaced by the familiar austere glint that normally resided there.

No. You wouldn’t have it. Not after all of this.

Your hand reached up to cradle his jaw, thumb swiping over the apple of his cheek as you turned his head to face you.

“I know you’ve heard me say it, Jake. To Marc and Steven. This wasn’t—this isn’t just research.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as his eyes flickered down to your lips, and you felt the arm that was wrapped around you tighten its grip again.

“I care about you, a lot—”

“You don’t know me.”

His words were brazen, suddenly harsh, insistent against your admission. Your brows furrowed.

“I’m not—I’m not like the others. I’m—I’m no good, hermosa. You care about Steven, and Marc, but I’m not like them. I don’t feel things like them, I can’t—estás mejor sin mí.”

“Then let me know you, Jake. You’re a part of this system, just as much as Marc and Steven, and you deserve to be happy.”

He didn’t answer you—his jaw rippled at the conviction your tone offered, so certain with yourself. You let out a long sigh, reaching to pull at his arm as you shifted. His brows furrowed, but he let you coax him into a lying position, his head against the pillows as you once again nestled into his side, arms wrapped tightly around his torso as you pressed your front against his side, face squished against his shoulder. You placed a soft kiss to the skin there.

“I’m gonna stay with you tonight, okay, Jake?”

You felt his muscles tense in protest, every fiber of his being telling him to make you leave, to get up and go, but the proximity and warmth of your body was intoxicating. After a few beats, he finally offered a slow nod, his limbs relaxing as he sank into the bed. You reached to pull the duvet over you two, clutching onto him tightly, and even if he refused to hold you back, you could feel the way his body went pliant beneath your touch.

He shouldn’t let you so close. He’d managed to keep his distance before—but with the way your breaths slowed into gentle snores, your hair tickling against his bicep, your comforting heat seeping into his bones—he felt his resolve begin to crack beneath the pressure of your insistent affections.

Jake let himself mold against you, his head tilting to rest against the top of yours as he pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head—he told himself that it was okay, you were sleeping, no one ever had to know just how much you’d softened him, how deeply you’d sunk your perfectly-manicured nails into his flesh—and no one ever had to know just how much he loved it.

For the first time in what felt like ever, Jake Lockley actually slept.

TAGLIST: @kezibear143 @gingermous @josephquinncore @steven-grants-world @am-3-thyst @fanofverymanythings @vaneyvfs @theboggyman-blog @belladri @roserfz27 @nowayhomerry @justanotherkpopstanlol @bagsy-not-it @elles-mind-palace @pimosworld @winterbiip @moonmoonboys @icuminurbutt @spxctorsslxt @fandomqueen74 @freerangesweets @wumpsquill @wordacadabra @lunaleah @hornkneeforbucky @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @sweatyroadcowboyjudge @ronanthesimp @deezisnotreal @avengersinitiative2012 @pri00r @wand-erer5 @bitchotine @cookielovesbook-akie @kingtwhiddleston @manofworm @welcometostayingawake @papillonoirsworld @xsarcasticwriterx @this--is--music @paradox-brody-chase

[koibitogata]

hey hatchet!! hope youre doing okay, could i request some angsty romantic headcanons between ticci toby and a gn!reader? maybe like if they argue about toby's behavior and whatnot

hey there darling! i’m actually doing great, and i hope you are too! i absolutely love the sound of this request, so here we fucking go (disclaimer i am not an expert on his MULTITUDE of conditions, which practically make up his whole person atp)

arguments about Toby’s behavior are not uncommon.

Toby was born with multiple diseases and disorders; though he doesn’t know his own past, you figure that if his parents did even a little less for him, he would be way worse off than he is now. in fact, you’re pretty sure this is as good as it could get.

but oh, there are so many things you simply do not love about this man.

his CIPA (congenital insensitivity to pain with anhidrosis) prevents him from feeling pain, and as such he has not felt pain since he was born. as such, completely lacking the concept of pain and never remembering that others are susceptible to it, he is often a little too rough with you, not just in bed. sometimes, he grabs you just a little too hard, and it gets to you.

you know he is as dense as he seems, but just in case, you hope hard that he never realizes you’re slowly becoming distant from him. you simply can’t do it, not with his roughness and lack of reverence on your body.

and oh, this is just scratching the surface of his behavioral issues.

Toby is also diagnosed with BPD (borderline personality disorder). this is what you consider to be the worst part of his behavioral issues.

you had the misfortune of ending up as his favorite person (though in his defense there are not many others around him so his poor mentally ill brain pretty much has no choice).

you talk to the cashier at 7-11 for a millisecond too long? suddenly as you walk out, Toby is gone from where he was waiting for you and when you look back, the cashier’s gone too. but you know somewhere behind the store, the poor cashier’s blood is being spilled.

and even if you need just a small something from his fellow proxies, they’re not immune either.

though, you have to say, you prefer asking a random person instead.

because even though tim and brian may be punished by Toby, you feel like you are the one being punished the hardest.

he’ll give you the cold shoulder and guilt trip you and manipulate you.

it’s to the point you don’t think you know what a normal relationship feels like anymore. are boyfriends supposed to be loving? or are they supposed to scowl at you, go silent and cold the moment they notice you talking to someone else, even if it’s absolutely necessary?

and so you do the only thing you can do to rebel: argue.

you first start out gently, chiding him when he does something he’s not supposed to do. you correct him and explain to him why it’s wrong.

but you’re not sure if it goes through to him at all. you genuinely cannot tell, between his desperate apologies right after and the blatant repetition of his behavior.

for a while, it’d just been the apologies and repetition. though you disliked it, you soon came to realize that it was better than apologies, repetition and THEN arguments, guilt tripping and manipulation.

“why can’t you just love me for who i am? do you not love me after all? i was right all along. you’re desperate to get rid of me.”

and the truth is, you are.

[excalibur-gone-missing]

Paring: Dino x fem!reader

Requested: no

Genre: angst, fluff

Warning(s): cheating, angst, sadness, mentions of pregnancy (do inform me if there's more)

Summary: You were the light guiding Chan for the most of his life. now that you are not there anymore, he cant help but feel your absence as he reminisces his past and all those times you were there to ground him no matter what.

Word count: 6k

Other works

disclaimer: this is not the exact representation of the subjects in real life. I just use them for my inspiration.

special thanks to @spamgyu for helping me out 😭

a/n: I would greatly appreciate it if all of you could take a moment to comment on this fic. As an author, I find great value in your feedback, as it allows me to better comprehend my readers, and I thoroughly enjoy interacting with all of you. Constructive criticism is always welcome, so don't hesitate to talk about this fic or send me an ask.

[permanent taglist] [only for those interested, don’t fill the form otherwise]

Chan's life was determined before he had a chance to consider it. His family wasn't well-off. They struggled from early on to get food on their plates. He knew from when he was a child that he had to support his siblings because his parents refused to do so.

So that’s exactly what he did. He got into SNU with a full scholarship, secured a good job, and built a stable life with six figures coming in annually to his bank account, providing enough money to support his siblings’ dreams.

But what did it all get him?

Nothing!

He sacrificed his teens and his twenties because his father felt the need to be a raging alcoholic, and now he stands in the middle of Gangnam in his beautiful flat with its polished floors. But he lacks the most important thing in life: happiness.

To be truthful, he lacks a lot of things, but happiness takes the cake. If someone asks him, he lacks friends too. But our dearest Boo Seungkwan would like to disagree about that. In Chan’s defense, friends are absolutely not equal to friend (just a difference of ‘s’, as our dear ‘Kwanie’ said. Plus, his multiple personalities make up for the said lack of ’s’, which further raises the question as to why the man does not go for a checkup, as it seems he has self-diagnosed DID. We shall never know).

Chan is happy about his brothers doing what they like, though. It’s not that hard to not be happy when he literally raised them. Sacrifices need to be made, he has realized; some just make more than others, and there is nothing one can do about that. He accepts that he is indeed grateful for the friend he has made, the one who has stayed with him and accepted him as he is.

Now, it may sound sappy, and Chan swears he will never tell this to Seungkwan, but he has indeed helped him through the thick and thin of life. All those late-night drinking sessions and ugly crying have brought him to this stage in life where he thinks of the boy as more of a family than anyone else. He helped him when Chan’s life was falling apart, and he also was there to scold him back to the right track when no one believed in him, not even himself.

Although he lacks happiness, he is fine with that (he at least has Boo Seungkwan). He can live with being sad; he already has!

This is where you came in, the reason for Chan’s genuine smiles, from back in college to five years ago. It was a pretty serious relationship that you both had. Chan loved you. He had plans of making you his wife. For God’s sake, he was in a relationship with you for almost ten years! But somewhere along the way, he messed up. He became the exact thing he had hated all his life.

He became a person like his father.

You, being the nice kind, tried your best to stop him from spiraling down the rabbit hole of bad habits. But alas, it takes two to tango, and if he didn’t want to be better, no one, not even God himself, could do it for him.

It took losing you to realize how messed up his life had become.

--

“Chan, I’m heading out. Dinner’s in the fridge—please actually eat it this time. We don’t need two meal skippers in this household,” you quipped, watching as Chan chuckled and gave you a quick giggle inducing peck before returned his attention to the document he’d been typing for the past hour.

“Sure thing, Your Majesty. Your command shall be dutifully followed!” he exclaimed with a mock salute, drawing out another laugh from you. With a playful ruffle of his hair and another peck on his cheek, you left the apartment to begin your night shift at the hospital.

Chan, unlike you, has just started his new job after completing his MBA. It’s been tough, but he’s persevered, and soon enough, you both will be able to enjoy the luxuries he could only dream of growing up.

Your fifth anniversary is approaching faster than ever, and now Chan finally has the means to fulfill your dream of a trip to Europe. The pressure of this new job is more than the last one, but getting those tickets would be a walk in the park now.

Quickly finishing his document and mailing it to the head of the department, he immediately goes to check those flight ticket prices and hotel prices. He releases a happy sigh the minute he realizes that it’s exactly what he had expected the prices to be. So, without wasting a single moment, he buys those tickets. He knew this gift would make you happier than ever.

The next month, you had been notified about the expensive purchase only because you had to get a leave from your job, and you obviously can’t disappear for two weeks unannounced. He, in reality, had no plans to inform you about anything, but he couldn’t interfere with your job either.

But at the end it was worth it, the look on your face the minute you were informed about the trip. Oh, if only Chan could frame it and keep it away from the world, only if he could keep you near him and never let you go. But he didn’t think of that then. No, he was happy he had told you earlier.

The happiness radiating off you as you kept going on and on about the clothes you needed to buy, all the foods you were going to try once there. It was what helped him keep going throughout the day, even though the work became tiring with every passing minute.

If only he could have stopped time and lived in that moment forever.

—

One thing he never realized is how demanding his job would be once he got into a higher position. The calls kept him up at night; they came at the most ungodly of times, and Chan was expected to pick them up, because he always did.

You never complained; it was fine by you. If anyone understood him, it was you. Both of you had highly demanding jobs, and nothing could beat the expectations your colleagues had on you both.

But what he had not counted on was those calls interrupting your trip. During the entirety of your anniversary, he was glued to that phone of his, never once able to leave it. It was one problem at the office or the other.

Again, you kept your mouth shut, enjoying your own company as your boyfriend busied himself with work in the hotel room.

That was the last trip you both had gone on. You figured that it was too much to ask from someone who had so much work to do. But still, you understood his hunger to do better in life. You understood that someone had to compromise in the relationship and wholeheartedly accepted that it had to be you.

Coming to think of it, it was not supposed to be like this. Never! Both of you were supposed to communicate and figure out what your relationship was supposed to mean. But somewhere along the line, it just became regular sex and nothing else. When you talked about this with your friends, all of them had the same reaction.

‘Leave him!’ they had told you, ‘he wouldn’t change, he prefers his job more than you.’

It was a regular thing now. But you were scared. All the years you had invested in the relationship, you never wanted it to become what it had. You had held out hope that one day Chan would notice you. He would realize he had a girlfriend who also needs his attention as much as his job.

It didn’t take too long for those dreams to come true, though.

—

One night, you sat down with the man, asking him about the changes in his life. You begged him to look your way beyond the times he made love to you. It was an intense conversation, filled with words that neither of you actually meant, but hurt you both equally.

That night brought you both another few years, or that’s what you think. It became better, both your lives and the relationship. You both would talk more, spend time with each other, laugh with each other, and go about your days with lovesick smiles on your faces. Although none of your jobs became less hectic, it still was as painstaking as ever, but the scenery in your shared home was peaceful. It was both of your comfort zones.

What neither of you realized, this peace that you both had brought back into your lives, was fickle. In order to keep it like that, both of you had to put in some effort.

—

It slowly became visible to both of you how much more effort this relation of yours needed. Both of you saw the way your paradise was crumbling down bit by bit. Nights became lonely for you. Chan, being the perfectionist he is, would be stuck up in his office until the rays of sun hit the glass windows, reminding him of the fact that he indeed had stayed the night in his office. The hectic job took everything away from him. It stripped him of his identity, and slowly it was also stripping his happiness and sanity away. It was like the darker times had hit both of you again.

It was then that he suddenly passed out on the streets due to extreme fatigue and was brought immediately into the nearest hospital, which was the one you worked at. Lo and behold, you were the nurse on emergency room duty that day. This was the first time you saw the love of your life in that state; you saw what this new job had done to him. How it had taken this happy and healthy person you knew and turned him into this sick, unhappy, and overworked person. Your helplessness mocked you in your face. At night, you stayed by his side after the doctors had given their verdict about him being too overworked. You took care of him like never before, making sure to make him take an ample amount of rest.

Sadly, the industry is ruthless. As soon as the employers became aware that their once highly valuable employee’s usefulness had diminished, they ultimately opted to terminate him. Although Chan claims there were some more internal politics involved in this sacking, there was no way he could have evaded it.

Both of you soon realized it was the best thing that could have happened to him. While being the worst experience he could ever go through in his corporate career.

You stayed by his side through every hurdle though. You never once let him feel the need to be more than what he already was. But life was giving both of you a hard time.

It took Chan another month to get a new job. But only this time, it was a better, more important position in a better company. This is when life took off for both of you again. With Chan back on track, equipped with the newfound knowledge of not working more than necessary, he was on a roll. Almost unstoppable.

This change also affected your relationship, but positively this time. Chan and you would go on constant dates and enjoy each other’s company way more than ever.

—

It was nearing your seventh anniversary. Both of you had talked about getting married and starting a family enough times for him to know this was the perfect time for him to propose.

So, on the day of your seventh anniversary, he had planned to take you to this fancy Italian place. He claimed that you deserved only the best. No one could ever argue with him about that. You, along with Seungkwan, had been by his side for so long that he had forgotten the time when he didn’t have you both. Nothing, absolutely nothing, would change that fact. With that it brought him to the most important question of that year.

“But what ring do I buy her?” the stressed boy asked his best friend.

“Wow, I wasn’t informed about the fact that y/n suddenly had become my girlfriend!” Seungkwan exclaimed sassily.

“Dude, you can calm down. She is still my girl, ain’t no way you are getting her. Find a girl of your own,” the shorter boy retorted back.

Why am I being asked about her preference for a ring then, huh?”

“Because she said, and I quote, ‘if you buy me an expensive engagement ring that I can’t even wear out because it looks too expensive, I will castrate you’,” Chan said seriously, bringing out a seal-like laugh from the back of Seungkwan’s throat.

“Do something meaningful for her then, you dumb fuck,” making Chan almost cringe at the scolding. Without letting the boy talk, his best friend continued, “Put in some effort and do something that shows you care, without having to spend a copious amount of money. I have no idea what you should do, but bro, if it were up to me, a girl would for sure get a ring no matter what!”

Now, this made him think. It made him think hard. But even after all that thinking, he couldn’t come up with a good idea for an alternative for an engagement ring.

It was not until the next Saturday when he was sitting on the couch waiting for you to choose a movie for the weekly movie night, did he stumble upon the perfect idea for a ring? Like any usual person, the man was scrolling through TikTok when he found out that one could make rings out of clay.

Perfect!

If you didn’t want a diamond ring, you shall get a clay ring. For you might catch the sun lacking one day, but not Chan, never Chan!

—

This kick-started the learner phase of Chan’s life once again. He would visit the pottery classes every week because he needed to excel at the art to mold the perfect ring. One suitable for daily wear and also because this hobby brought him more peace than ever.

He made some friends here; they were fun to hang out with. You had met all these new people flooding into his life. He would parade about the with his hand on you showing you off proudly.

“Who wouldn’t?” he would ask whenever someone pointed it out. This question had the power to make him start ranting about you at any given point. So much so that after a point, people stopped asking him about you, no matter the context.

Because, oh boy, was he in love.

--

It took him one year and some friendships to finally complete learning everything there was to learn about pottery. In the course of that time, he had littered your shared house with his creations.

Oh, you wanted to buy a new bowl because you saw it on Instagram? No fear, Chan shall make it this instant. Oops, your favorite coffee mug broke? Chan has come to your rescue with a better, scientifically cute, usable, and overall better mug for you.

The creative spark of the boy never dimmed down, nor did his extroverted nature. Every other day, he would be out with his new friends, so much so that even Boo Seungkwan noticed. You both had chats with each other about the changes in Chan’s life over a cup of tea whenever Seungkwan would come over.

To say that you both were happy about him enjoying life would be an understatement. You had seen the pain the man had gone through in his life. It only made sense for him to have the best of the best experiences when he had the opportunities.

But again, as people say, one should do everything in moderation. It seems that Chan could do nothing in moderation. He would work himself half to death. In this case too, he started drinking and partying himself half to death. The outings that were done to unwind after a long hard day became parties that were making the day even longer.

The friends that helped him overcome the pressuring environment of his office became the ones who would pressure him to go way out of his comfort zone, all for the wrong reasons. People say twenties are times when people experiment with their life and gain new experiences.

The same was applicable for Chan too, the only difference being he was learning different ways of spiraling down holes that are hard to climb up from. The hilarious part being, these were the holes that he had carefully dug out himself.

It’s not like you never stopped him, because you did. The minute you realized these new friends were pushing Chan’s limits in the wrong way, you didn’t waste a second to tell him.

“I think you should calm down with this partying and stuff. It’s unbelievably bad for your health,” you had told him one night when he had come home drunk out of his wits.

“I know how to have fun, not my fault you don’t!”

The boy had shouted at you before collapsing on the couch. Realizing it was a waste of time to even try and talk to him in this state, you tried again the next day when he was far more sober.

“Do you remember what happened yesterday?” you ask Chan, to which he shakes his still-hungover head and winces. Sighing, you continue, “Chan, you can’t let them get to you like this. Moderation is the key here. Please don’t overdo anything, I beg you!” You hugged him, trying to coax him to understand where you were coming from. He obviously hugged you back and promised you to keep your advice in mind the next time they asked him out.

He didn’t. He swears he tried to. But the peer pressure got to him. Before he could even back off, they had already hauled his ass to the bar. He never wanted to disappoint you. So he chose to accept the most coherent plan his drunk mind could formulate: the plan to lie to you.

—

Your seventh anniversary had come and gone a year ago. The only gifts he could provide you that day were a fancy dinner and a solid promise that he would indeed get you the greatest ring you will have ever seen in your whole life. Now the time had come. The time to prove his skills. Those skills he spent an entire year honing.

During this cute date at home, he produced a small wooden box from his pocket. After you had enjoyed the homemade meal he had whipped up for you and you both were cuddling on the balcony, he proposed to you with stars in his eyes and hope in his heart.

He shocked you with the ring. Like your relationship, it was delicate, yet made with lots of love and care. You obviously said yes without hesitation. After all, you loved this man, and he loved you too. Nothing, absolutely nothing, could ever go wrong if he was with you.

--

It seems that no matter how hard you try, life always seems to have other plans for you.

The month right after you accepted his proposal, you received an invitation for a two-year-long workshop in Germany. Such opportunities don’t come every day, so you were elated.

Without wasting any time, you called Chan, informing him about the opportunity you had received. But like every coin, this great opportunity had its drawbacks too.

With the prospect of studying and learning under some of the greatest doctors and nurses came the hardship of leaving your fiancé behind. Chan didn’t like this one bit. He could barely stand to be away from you for a second, let alone two years.

But seeing the excitement on your face and hearing the joy in your voice, he couldn’t bring himself to ask you to stay back. He knew you had sacrificed a lot for him, compromised at times when you could have been happy if he hadn’t made decisions that ruined his life.

--

So he put on a happy smile and told you that if you didn’t take this opportunity, he would pack your bags himself and kick you out of the house. This assurance gave you the confidence you needed. Without wasting any time, you sent an email accepting the proposition to join the workshop.

The next five months passed in a whim. During this time, he had asked you to marry him before you went away, but with a peaceful and determined smile, you had told him, “I will marry you once I come back, like that, we won’t have to spend too much time as newlyweds. Plus, I will be smarter than you too.”

“You are always smarter than me. I can never surpass you,” was the answer you had received, along with a sweet kiss, making your heart swell like a balloon.

Life was starting to feel better again.

Chan had finally made his boundaries very clear. The boy felt extremely guilty for lying to you, though he never confessed to you about doing so. He made sure his actions proved his redemption. He ensured to let these new friends of his know that going out too much with them was affecting him in ways that he didn’t appreciate. Although they did sometimes win against him and force him to go out, it was not as bad as it was before.

—

Soon the day came when you had to fly away to Germany. To say that Chan was sad would be an understatement. He was devastated when he saw you off at the airport with Seungkwan. He had cried the whole way home, making Seungkwan scold him as if he were a baby.

“Now if you keep behaving like this, do you think she would be happy?” the older boy questioned him.

“No, but I miss her already,” Chan replied in a whisper while wiping his tears harshly.

“Be nice, be happy for her. You can talk to her all the time. It’s not the Stone Age,” Seungkwan said with an exasperated sigh, making the younger one stop his sad boy antics at once.

But it was not like Chan was okay. He started working overtime at the office, desperately waiting for you to call him when you got free. And call you did, religiously at six o’clock in the evening.

You both made the decision to talk at that time, regardless of any circumstances. This went on for six months. He tried his best to follow the routine of overworking himself before you would call and save him from killing himself with work.

But with all these works, his willpower also started to crumble down. The old ways came back to him. Before he realized it, he became a party animal. He made new friends at these clubs and bars he started frequenting. He thought you wouldn’t pick up. But you did. You saw how your boyfriend was slowly changing. It was not that obvious at first, but slowly you realized he was getting drowned with work.

Being the lovely girlfriend you were, you asked Seungkwan to take care of him. The boy tried his best to do so. But alas, he was not that successful.

It seemed to both of you that Chan had spiraled back into his overworking session. What you both were unaware of was that it was more than that.

Chan was not just overworking; he was over-drinking and over partying too.

—

One faithful night; he met Eva, his pottery class instructor. She was pretty. They talked the whole night, catching up like old buddies and having fun.

She brought a change to his life again. She started being there for him during times when he would lose himself. She was a great friend, so great that in no time you had the chance to meet her.

You had come back for a week’s vacation. Seungkwan thought it was important for all the friends to meet up because it had been a long time since he had seen you. This meeting was supposed to consist of only you, Chan, and Seungkwan. But Chan asked to bring in another friend he would like you to meet. It was Eva.

You liked her; she was nice. You wanted to be friends with her. Her sweet personality was something no one could resist, a great example of a sweetheart through and through.

For once, you were actually proud of your boyfriend’s choices in life. Your visit was over even before it had started. Suddenly, the week was over, and you were packing your bags to return to Germany.

This time, Chan was not as scared of things going downhill anymore. He knew that within a few more months, you would come back, and he could happily start the wedding preparations. He also knew he had a solid group of friends to have his back. Most importantly, he had learned the art of living without you. Not that it was happy, but now he could enjoy spending time by himself.

—

Time flew faster than ever. In no time, it was Chan’s birthday. Your program would finish that same month, so sadly you couldn’t visit him. All you could do was video call him that morning and congratulate him for hitting thirty before you, to which he grumpily replied, “Your birthday is in six months; I’m gonna make it hell for you.”

“Whatever, old man, get dressed. Don’t you have a job to go to?” You laughed at his grumpy face while teasing him even more.

“I miss you,” Chan suddenly called out, pouting.

“You will meet me next month, Channie. Don’t be this sad now.” Although that did make him happy, the thought of spending yet another birthday without you was saddening. But it’s not like it was going to last. You would be back in no time.

That thought put a smile on his face. Soon enough, he was skipping around the house cooking breakfast and answering numerous calls from his friends and family for being a thirty-year-old now.

Seungkwan and Eva had also planned a not-so-surprise party for him. It consisted of meeting in front of his office and dragging his ass to the bar to drink and have fun. Although the day was spent slaving away in front of the computer, that night he had a lot of fun. He talked to Seungkwan and Eva for hours, and the three of them were pretty intoxicated when they left.

The only thing he remembered from that night was the fact that Eva, being the one out of the three with the most alcohol tolerance, was the one who had made sure that all of them returned home safely.

There was just one slight problem. Eva started to avoid him. Now, in any other situation, he would not have noticed it, but the text the next morning asking him if he remembered anything from the night before had him confused. When he asked her what it was all about, she refused to answer him, opting to ignore him instead.

He had no recollection of the night before, and Seungkwan didn’t either, so it was a mystery to both of them. But then again, his gut told him the problem was bigger than what he thought it was and might come to haunt him if not solved now.

So he did the most sane thing he could think of: He asked her to talk to him about it. He knew the wedding preparations would start the minute you came back, so he wanted to make sure to fix any problem that might affect you both before it blasted out of proportion.

—

“You kissed me,” was the first thing Eva told him after sitting down, making Chan’s heart drop to his stomach.

“Huh, but I don’t remember anything,” Chan retorted.

“It’s not about you remembering or not, it really happened, Chan, and I hate it,” she said, her voice almost breaking.

“Hey, calm down. We were both intoxicated, and we didn’t do it on purpose. Any other time and we wouldn’t have done it,” this seemed to have little to no effect on improving the girl’s mood.

On the other hand, Chan’s blood pressure was rising. The last thing he needed was a big mistake from which he could never turn back. With you coming back from Germany in less than a week, he needed everything in his life to be sorted out, especially something that could jeopardize a relationship with so much love in it.

“Chan, I think I like you. I’m not sure when it happened, or how it did. But I like you. So please don’t tell me I wouldn’t have done it if we weren’t intoxicated.”

The impact of this statement was so immense that it completely shattered his world, leaving him in disarray. It was true that he liked Eva. What kind of feelings he actually held for her was a mystery to him.

So, in the spur of the moment, he kissed her.

Just a few minutes ago, it was bothering him, but once he took the step, he didn’t feel what he was supposed to. He didn’t feel the disgust and hatred towards himself he should have. It felt like sneaking out of his house when he was not supposed to. It made a rush of excitement run through his body. He could feel the adrenaline rush through him.

He felt alive. maybe it was the feeling of doing something forbidden or it was something else, he didn’t know.

But, that night, they did more than kissing.

—

Once you were back, it was all sunshine and rainbows in the first few weeks. You both were happy, spending all your time together and having fun relishing in each other’s presence.

But it didn’t take you long to notice the changes. He would be stuck late at the office but come back home surprisingly lively, or those random texts from his brother late at night asking him to come over, or even the most obvious of them all, the vibrant smell of floral perfume that you never wear.

But you held out. You had promised to give him a chance to explain himself if he came clean to you. But that day never came. You asked him about these odd behaviors, but somehow he would always evade the topic altogether.

All those questions of ‘where were you last night’, ‘when will you come home’, or ‘shall we go on a date sometime soon’, all went unanswered.

He outright ignored your presence at home. But this didn’t stop the wedding preparations. Because his siblings and your parents alike loved him, they had taken the responsibility to take care of the wedding plans.

Before he could continue with his little escapades, Seungkwan caught and confronted him. Not by you but by Seungkwan. The older boy’s disappointment was beyond words. He screamed at him for an hour straight and then he had sat Chan down and calmly said,

“Either you tell her or I will.”

“But I can’t; she will leave me if I ever tell her.”

“Then she will be right in doing so.”

“Chan, I love you to death, but either you stop this and tell your girlfriend the whole truth, or I will take matters into my own hands. She has put up with enough of your shit. Don’t hurt her more,” he had said.

“Give me some time; I will do it as soon as possible,” the younger one had strained out, fisting his hair.

“She better know about it all before the wedding,” Seungkwan had warned him before seeing himself out.

—

Chan had cut off Eva after that. He tried to change everything before actually marrying you. Then, being the kind person you are, you tried to understand your boyfriend. You really did. But this was the first time in ten years you considered leaving him.

This relationship didn’t make you happy anymore. But you had gone through so many troubles together. The effort to hold each other upright was taking a toll on you.

But you were a fighter. You had fought many battles with him by your side. You couldn’t give up on those years either. Your internal dilemma was killing you. But all of this came to a halt one day when you had come back from your night shift, only to find your boyfriend and the girl he oh so diligently claimed to be his good friend, talking in the living room.

It was not like they were trying to be quiet because you could hear every single word spoken by them.

“Chan, it’s yours.”

“Eva, I have a fiancé. I will never leave her. I already told you, I love her.”

“Oh, so you didn’t think about that before fucking me”

“It was a mistake”, Chan shouted.

“No, it wasn’t, we both were very sober”, came another shout

The conversation hit you like a truck, and with each sentence, you felt your heart shattering. The decision suddenly seemed a bit too easy to make.

You walked out of the chaos, leaving the ring behind on the shoe rack. That night, you stayed at your friend’s place.

Following that event, you called Seungkwan, informing him that you won’t talk to Chan anymore. He simply asked if you wanted any help moving out, to which you answered with a simple no.

That was the end of the relationship for you. You refused to talk or see Chan ever again.

—

Now, five years later, Chan is to be married again. Not with you; no, he missed his chance. It's with Eva. They figured the best way to raise Minhan was to be together. In a county like theirs, it wasn’t the best idea to raise a kid with two unmarried parents.

Chan loved Minhan to death. But he could never show the same love for Eva. Looking at her reminded him of the mistakes he made in life. It reminded him of the happiness he could have attained, but he lost due to his own faults.

He is happy Seungkwan is still beside him. He knows he doesn’t deserve a friend like him, so the fact that Seungkwan stayed beside him makes him feel grateful.

He knew that his wife and child would move in with him soon, but he didn’t have the courage to let them into the house yet. The house that held both your memories was a bit too precious to let go of so easily.

The next day came faster than he anticipated. As Chan stood there waiting for his bride, he saw a face that he had been longing to see for the last five years.

He saw your face, sitting there on the benches, a sad smile adorning your face. Your eyes filled with emotions and stories of the years you had spent together.

Oh, how badly Chan wanted to abandon everything and run to you. Apologize a hundred times and ask you to take him back. But he couldn’t; he had children to take care of and shoes to fill.

As he stood there saying his vows, hoping it’s you he saw walking down the aisle and it’s you he kissed, but they are called dreams for a reason. And not all dreams come true.

As he kissed his bride, he saw a glimpse of your teary eyes amongst the crowd, and a tear of his own fell. Wishing for a future he was never destined to have.

the end

[ageless-aislynn]

Title: “15 Minutes” (9/?) Author:  @ageless-aislynn​ Characters/fandom: Master Chief John-117/Reader, Halo the series Summary: You're in peril but don't be afraid, help is near. Series: How to date a Spartan (without even trying) Rating:  T (PG13) Length: 2,568 (this chapter, 22,261 total so far) Spoilers: Set in the Silver Timeline of Halo the series, not the games or novels. Though we began with the events of Halo 1x06, there will be no more show spoilers. We are still firmly seated in the AU Warthog, merrily driving out to places where there’s only a passing nod to canon. 😉 Trigger warning: claustrophobia Disclaimer: Definitely not mine but I do enjoy borrowing them just for a bit! 😉 A/N:  Text is both here in this post or available at AO3, however you like to read. Halo season 2 has finally arrived! However, this fic continues to zip along in the AU Party Warthog, so, while we began with season 1 way back when (and you’ll see a few more things from s1 along the way 😉), we’ll not be venturing into s2 territory at all. Unless s2 is going to take some verrrrry interesting twists, lol! Chapter 10 is in progress by hand but I hope to have it ready soon. 🤞😣🤞 The tags have been updated for hurt/comfort starting with this chapter. If you read, I hope you enjoy! ⭐💖⭐

Taglist: @pinheadbanger​ @mysardencut​ @laurenstacy610​ @sporadicbelievernightmare​ @ultrablackwidower​ @bxmxtx​ @jellotherelol

If you would like to be tagged in my John/Reader fics, just let me know! I also write John/Kai, John/Cortana and Kai/male Reader, so I’m glad to tag you for whatever you’d like. If you would like to be removed from the taglist, also feel free to let me know, no harm, no foul. 😉 💖

Halo fic masterlist ⭐

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8

Trigger warning again: claustrophobia If you need to avoid the actual scene, skip the entire first section but there will be a lot of mentions of it again through the rest of the chapter, just so you're aware. I don't want to cause any distress to anyone so if you'd like a recap of what happens in this chapter, feel free to contact me here and I'm happy to oblige so you can stay in-the-know without reading something that could trigger a bad reaction. Stay safe, my friends! 🤗

You tried to gasp in a breath but there was a weight pinning you down. Smoke burned your lungs and your eyes. Your left arm couldn't move but you were able to bring your right hand up to wipe your face, trying to clear your vision. The only light in the rubble came from a shower of sparks a few feet away, emitting from a panel half-ripped from the wall. There was very little to orientate yourself by.

"Hello?" you tried to call but you couldn't take a deep enough breath to yell. The muffled ring in your ears told you that at least one of your eardrums had ruptured.

Evaluate, you thought in the tone you used when triaging patients, shoving down a wave of panic. You tried to squeeze out from under whatever was pressed across your back. No good, too much weight.

There wasn't a tremendous amount of pain but you worried at the numbness from your waist down, behind whatever was restraining you.

Evaluate.

You tested moving your legs, your feet, your toes. It felt strange but yes, you had movement.

Spinal cord potentially compromised but not severed, you diagnosed as clinically as possible.

Something overhead gave an alarming groan.

Alert help. Report your position.

"Hello? I'm by the crane operator booth. Can anyone hear me?"

You couldn't get the volume you wanted and you automatically tried to inhale deeper. You couldn't and had to fight another wave of panic. The animal part of your brain wanted to claw the twisted metal of the deck, trying to squirm free, but when you twitched, something above you groaned again.

You had no way to know how perilous the collapsed structure was. A wrong move could bring it all down.

A fresh wave of smoke irritated your nose and you coughed weakly. From far away, you heard the muffled sound of a woman saying your rank and last name.

"Here," you choked out. "I'm here."

A blue light shimmered a few feet away, the lower half of a blue-tinted woman, her upper body phased through the rubble. Then she shrank until she fit the space, adjusting like a camera lens. A hologram.

She repeated your rank and last name. "We have your location," she said, your damaged hearing distorting her voice. "Sit tight, a rescue crew is on their way."

You tried to respond but the smoke triggered more coughing, so you nodded.

"I'll stay with you for as long as the holo-emiter holds," she said, gesturing towards the ruined wall panel that continued to spark.

"Thank you," you managed to say. "Casualties?"

She glanced up and away as if receiving new information. "Reports coming in of injuries but no fatalities. Your alert gave enough time for almost everyone to get clear."

"Good." You made yourself slow your breathing down, taking shallow breaths since you couldn't take deeper ones. For a moment, your head swam and it felt like the floor tipped. Your fingers scratched for a hold on the crumpled metal.

The sound of your rank and name cut through the terror. "You're all right," the woman assured you. "You're not falling. Try to stay still. Silver Team will be back on site in a few more minutes. John will be here soon."

It gave you something to focus on other than bring trapped. The way she knew that the mention of John would comfort you, that she didn't call him Master Chief like most people did, even the mannerism of how she'd looked away, like someone was speaking in her ear...

"Your name wouldn't be Ms. Classified, would it?" you asked haltingly and tried to smile.

"That's... not inaccurate," she said and maybe it was your blurry vision but you could've sworn she gave you a fond smile, like she knew you. "I'm not supposed to tell my name."

You tried to say it was all right but couldn't draw enough breath.

"Ah, screw it," she said. "What are they going to do, fire me? My name is Cortana."

You must've blacked out because the next thing you knew, she was kneeling next to you, her small holographic hand resting atop your outstretched arm as she repeated your rank and name.

If you could get a breath, you needed a good, solid breath. Your chest instinctively fought to expand but couldn't beneath the pressure bearing down on your back. Something above you slid and the pressure abruptly worsened. You clawed, you fought, you struggled to breathe. To live.

"John, get here now! The support beam is failing!"

"Not his fault," you tried to say. "Tell him. Not his--"

Metal screamed and everything went dark.

You woke, grasping at nothing. You still couldn't get a deep breath but this time you were on your back and it felt like someone had laced a corset brutally tight around you.

"Easy there. You're all right," said a deep voice.

Your vision swam and then Spartan Vannak-134 appeared out from the dim lighting. You were still clawing at the air, trying to sit up, and he caught your hand a little awkwardly in his much larger ones.

"Where?" you gasped.

"You're back on Reach, in medical."

Once he said it, details emerged like a black and white picture filling in with color: the beeps of the monitors, the distinctive antiseptic smell. Your hearing was still deadened but not as much as before, meaning they had already begun healing therapies on your eardrums.

Anything you might've wanted to say dissolved like sugar on your tongue before the words could be spoken. Your head seemed too full. I'm drugged, you thought and that was the last thing you knew for a while.

Voices drew you from the murky depths and you tried to open your eyes but couldn't.

"Hold her hand," Vannak said in a quiet rumble. "She likes that."

A new hand gently folded around yours and your fingers instinctively gripped hold.

You woke, feeling the phantom press of metal bearing down on you, forcing the air from your lungs. You tried to sit up, your limbs flailed, uncoordinated and leaden. A second hand closed around yours and a feminine voice began to softly sing, a lullaby in a language you didn't recognize.

The room was blurry but you caught a glimpse of red hair -- Spartan Riz-028. You went under once more, dreaming of music that soothed your fears.

Later, there was a new voice to lure you up from the sticky darkness.

"Poor little thing. She looks so small."

"She'll heal. Hold her hand, it helps."

At some point, you jolted awake to find your hand cradled carefully within Kai's.

"Hey," she said, sitting up straighter in the chair next to the bed. "You need anything?"

Your head felt less stuffed with cotton than before but now that cotton seemed to have been transferred to your mouth. "Water?" you croaked.

She jumped up and returned shortly, carrying a cup with a straw in it. You intended to sit up but a searing pain in your ribs immediately convinced you that was a bad idea and you let her help you by holding the straw to your lips.

"Slowly," she advised.

Once you'd taken a couple of sips, you mumbled your thanks then promptly passed out.

You thought you'd closed your eyes for a brief moment but when they fluttered open, it wasn't Kai sitting in the chair, holding your hand.

As soon as John knew you were awake, he was on his feet, carefully brushing the fingertips of his free hand along the curve of your cheek.

You mouthed his name.

"Rest," he said. "I'm here. You're safe."

For the first time in what seemed like forever, you truly felt as if you were. Your mind let go.

"And how's our favorite mech, the Hero of the Pit?"

"That's not a very heroic name," you confessed, smiling as Maria and then Jamie entered medical.

You were sitting on the side of the bed in generic gray scrubs, waiting for Dr. Savannah to give you final instructions before your release. It had been two days since the explosion. Your hearing had, thankfully, returned to normal. The rest of you... not so much but you were on the mend.

They both gave you careful hugs.

"You look a lot less like you were squashed by a building," Jamie said sincerely and Maria punched his arm. "Hey, that was a compliment!"

"Don't make me laugh," you begged, holding your left side. They'd fused your broken ribs back together but the tissue damage would take longer to resolve. Still, aches, pains, limited motion and all, you knew you were very lucky.

"I hope they're giving you a nice vacation, at least," Maria went on.

"I should be ready for light duty in a week."

"Technically, I said we'd evaluate you for light duty in a week," Dr. Savannah corrected as she entered. "Afraid your friends will have to catch up with you later."

They said their goodbyes and, as they left, you started to stand. The doctor quickly said, "No, you don't. I don't want you walking on that leg."

"It's not broken," you argued.

"Not anymore," she countered. "Stay put. I got you a ride."

"I don't need to be wheeled back to the barracks." You tried to keep your tone confident but the truth was even that little bit of exertion had left you feeling twinges all along your left leg. Your left shoulder throbbed with each heartbeat.

"Well, good thing you're wrong on both counts," she said, winking. "And here he is now."

John came through the door, dressed in his undersuit as if either about to head to the Brokkr stations to have his Mjolnir mounted up or returning from having it removed. You didn't even realize you'd moved to rise again until Dr. Savannah put a practiced hand on your good shoulder to keep you down.

"I'll be sending PT to you twice a day, starting tomorrow," she said. "They'll help you to get your strength and mobility back. Around that, rest. Catch up on your reading, watch some thoroughly trashy movies, and keep your feet up. Not too far up, though. Nothing too strenuous. Make him do all of the work."

That got you to look at her and she waggled her eyebrows.

John cleared his throat slightly, a faint but definite flush creeping up from his collar. "Yes, ma'am."

"All right, see you back in a few days, sooner if anything else develops. You know what to watch for."

It wasn't until she stepped back and John approached that it clicked.

"You're going to carry me?"

"Yes, ma'am," he repeated in a murmur that shivered straight down your spine.

Since your left side had taken the brunt of the damage, he put your right to his chest and cautiously picked you up in a bridal carry. Despite the care, being moved set a thousand things to hurting and your breath hitched as he straightened.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," you said, your tone tighter than you would've liked. You thought, I hope nobody sees me being toted around like this, but, as soon as you left medical, you realized that no one was actually looking at you.

I think if Master Chief offered to drop me and pick up any marine, ODST or officer in this hall, they'd be hopping into his arms before I even hit the floor!

At the first turn he made, you realized the rest of it. "This isn't the way to the barracks."

"Nope," he said and you knew him well enough now to see the hint of a smile in his eyes.

You didn't have to wait for further clues, there was only one place, then, that he could be taking you. "How many strings did you have to pull for this?"

"Not as many as you might think," he demurred. "Your actions saved lives."

And they could've blamed you for failing to make sure a bomb hadn't been sent to the Pit in the first place. The curly tailed Warthog had been your responsibility, after all. You'd been curtly informed of all that when they'd debriefed you the first day you'd had your eyes open for more than 15 minutes.

You doubted they'd told that to John, though.

When you reached his room, he maneuvered so to get his thumb on the panel without jostling you too much. The lights came on as he took you through the doorway and then he paused.

"Kai," he rumbled, shaking his head. "She said studies show people heal better with color. I should've known she'd overdo it. Say the word and I'll have her in here clearing this out."

"It's your room," you said, "but personally, I love it."

The duvet on the bed and the pillows on the couch were now a rainbow of jewel tones. A tapestry with a field of sunflowers dominated the wall at the foot of the bed and you could've sworn there was a dusting of diamond glitter shimmering on every wall, sending tiny holographic rainbows through the air in all directions. But the main thing that caught your attention was overhead.

"She put up stars," you said, brightening.

"Ah, that one was actually me," he confessed. "You seemed to really like those in her room so I thought..."

You stretched up in his arms, inhaling a little sharply at the stab of pain in your left side, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I love them, John. Thank you."

A short time later, you found yourself lying on the bed in the darkened room, looking up at those stars. John had profusely apologized for not being able to stay after getting you settled in. He'd turned down the bed so you wouldn't have to, had put your padd close at hand on the nightstand to the right along with a bottle of water and a couple of emergency ration packs in case you got hungry before someone bought you a meal. He'd even procured you a set of unthinkably soft civvies to change into, exactly your size and in your favorite color.

You couldn't imagine that a Spartan had ever taken care of a sick or wounded person before, other than in a battlefield triage situation, so he'd probably found a checklist from somewhere to guide him. His earnestness to make sure he'd done everything right sent warmth flooding through you.

Before he left, he'd paused to kiss the top of your head.

"You know," you said, lifting your chin, "my lips aren't broken."

He hesitated. "The last time I did that, an entire base fell on you."

"Only the warehouse part," you said dismissively, "and there was absolutely no correlation, I promise."

He tried to smile at that but his eyes still showed concern.

"I promise," you repeated more seriously and he exhaled as if about to make a tremendous leap. His kiss was so soft and gentle, it was barely more than a whisper against your mouth.

Once he had left, you'd considered taking Dr. Savannah's advice and watching a holo, reading something on your padd, or doing any number of things to pass the time but ultimately, you'd wanted to appreciate his handiwork.

After all, it wasn't just anybody who could say a Spartan had literally hung the stars for them.

[doin-just-fine]

hello! I’m not a system myself, but I’m doing some research for a friend of mine who’s questioning.

I was wondering if you could do a ‘the people wanna know’ about what different kinds of systems there are/how it can present, or something in that vein?

Thanks, love your stuff!

The People Wanna Know: System Types

Disclaimer: We are by no means experts in this at all. We are quite new to the whole being plural thing and there is A LOT to learn when it comes to plurality and systems, especially in types and "microlabels". These microlabels are VERY helpful when someone is trying to sort out if they are plural or not especially if they are an atypical system like us. They can make you feel validated and at home when previously there was fear and confusion. We also want to suggest that you continue your deep dive outside of this post! We hope you give you a launch pad into the complex world of plurality but do not let this be the end of the research! I will be using definitions mostly from Pluralpedia. Systemhood and plurality is very under researched so many of the labels you'll see are created by community members that are then adopted by the greater community. That all being said, as validating as these microlabels can be they can sometimes also have the opposite effect if they don't fit all the way. If you guys land on them being plural, we encourage you to leave the microlabels behind especially if those labels are close to their experiences but not quite accurate in all ways. 🛸I found when identifying specifically as a Median system, it lead to a few denial spirals because that label mostly fit our experience but not all the way or all the time which lead to us question our experiences making it harder to accept and understand ourselves. I personally find just calling myself plural or a system is enough and allows me the freedom to have my own unique experience as a human being with an atypical brain that science is only just starting to research and understand rather than trying to define my experiences filtered through a ill fitting label that doesn't change with me as we grow and learn. But, if you guys find a label that fits like a glove CONGRATS! Use it, love it, where it with pride!

ANYWAY, THE PEOPLE WANNA KNOW!

System Types

DIAGNOSABLE SYSTEMS (labels recognized by the DSM-V) DID OSDD 1 OSDD 1A OSDD 1B OSDD 2 OSDD 3 OSDD 4 UDD

None of those fit? Build Your Own System

I will be giving short definitions of each label. If you want more information each term will take you to a more in depth description.

ORIGINS (why the system formed) Traumagenic: Origins were trauma related. Endogenic: Umbrella term for origins that are related to something other than trauma, though trauma can still be a factor but not always. SUBCATEGORIES: (link to microlabels of the subcategories bellow) Created: Systems that were created intentionally for any reason. Adaptive: Origins that were related to trauma or other adversity. Spontaneous: For systems that seemed to just appear one day seemingly without cause. Unknown: A system who's origins are unknown, unclear, or still being sorted out. Mixed: Multiple origin labels can be applied to these systems.

CONSCIOUSNESS (how communication, conscious connection, and shared existence feels with in a system) Monoconscious: Shared consciousness between members where everyone thinks the same thing together as individuals. Polyconscious: Everyone in a system has their own thoughts and mind that are separate from each other. Hydraconscious: Everyone has their own thoughts and mind but in a collective consciousness. This may feel like everyone talking out loud about different things at the same time. Cephaconscious: When member are in or near the front together they have a shared monoconscious experience but when they are not in the front they have their own separate thoughts and mind. Mutoconscious: When member are in or near the front together they have a shared monoconscious experience but when they are not in the front they have a hydraconscious experience. SYSTEM SEPARATION (how individual are the individuals) Partitionary System: Individuals are very distinct. They do not share memories and often experience time loss. Median Systems: Individuals are less distinct and blend with each other more. These systems often don't experience typical amnesia. Blurian: Systems who share 100% of memories regardless of who's fronting. These system may also not experience Amnesia. (Edit: Here is some more resources for things that blur the line of plurality and systemhood ) Unrelated to the question but maybe to your situation here is a link to help questioning systems

I hope this was helpful let me know if you have any questions or need clarification!!

REMEMBER: You're gonna be ok. You're gonna figure it out. Be kind and gentle with yourself and others. Asks are open. Have a nice day.

[hanjizoo]

“white lace”

(ship: bang chan x male reader)

(synopsis: reader is a solo porn star who goes live every once and a while. chan stumbled across this boy toy, and after a session or two, knew that it was worth the run of his money. one live, (y/n) decided to surprise his viewers with something special and caused chan to make a dumb impulse decision. was that impulse decision the best decision of his life? he won’t admit it…)

(genre: smut, with a plot? maybe?)

(note: before you read, just wanted to say that i was recently diagnosed with a couple of health conditions. i’ve been dealing with them for a while, so it’s really put a hinder in the consistency of my writing/posting. i have gotten a few requests, and i promise i see them! i am trying to keep up with them as much as possible and finish them for you, my lovelies. i hope that my inconsistency isn’t too much of an inconvenience for you all. thank you for reading this!)

(disclaimer!!: this is smut!! so, there are mentions of: both heterosexual porn and solo gay porn. various words such as pussy, cock, dick, balls, tits, daddy, sir, etc. reader is a “femboy”, wears woman’s lingerie. reader imitates breasts with his own, acts of dirty talk, dildo riding, masturbating, cum-eating, etc. if you do not like any of these topics, do not read and do not comment anything hateful!!)

it was a stressful day for bangchan. he dealt with a lot of working in the studio, practicing choreography, and looking after his other 7 members(children). all he wanted was to go to his dorm room and sleep. though the closure of sleeping was what chan truly wanted, he has nightly ruts that get in the way of that closure. chan was never the type to take time in jacking off. it was more of a one-and-done kind of thing. no motivation pictures, no porn, not even an audio…just straight imagination and the dull process of jerking his cock until he came.

it seemed every session got more and more un-relieving. he did it to relax his tense muscles and anxiety after all. strictly jerking wasn’t enough to even make chan cum after a while.

that’s when he decided to dive a little more into the side of porn. it was typical to watch porn, though chan never had time nor even have the desire to. it was only a faded recollection of his teenage years. but he thought that it would help him in his dilemma down south…

chan messed around and scrolled for a long while, finding something perfect that really got him going, though there wasn’t much. there are many sides to porn that chan found basic and seemingly effortless; nothing motivational enough for his soft dick. pages upon pages of monotonous porn and basic brags of “step sister with a tight pussy” accompanied with “jerking off my hard dick.” nothing set chan off, nothing made him hard.

that was until he found the glorious wonders of “imyour(y/n).” bangchan knew he liked (y/n) because of the instant twitch in his dick whenever he saw one of (y/n)’s thumbnails. (y/n) was a solo-pornstar, had an intense following, lots of viewers, and even an onlyfans that was expanding amazingly. men took a liking to this boy toy (y/n). bang chan took a liking to this boy toy (y/n).

many times did (y/n) satisfy bang chan. chan even went to the extreme of donating every once and a while just for (y/n) to say his username as he plastered cum all over his hands. (y/n) was smooth and smart with his words, always saying the right things in order to motivate his viewers and make them cum. every live and every video was a surprise, he loved pleasing his viewers.

so, of course, after long and hard days of working, chan always looked forward to reaching his dorm room, locking his door, and immediately watching one of (y/n)‘s videos to jerk off to. accept this time (y/n) was live. bang chan felt his heart skip a beat just seeing that he was live. he was overly ecstatic and already hard.

“hi, cuties. i see a lot more of you have joined, should i start now? i think i might. i’m getting a little hard.” (y/n) giggled as he watched the chat flood with horny comments of “show us your dick”, “take off your shirt”, and “moan my name, i’ll donate.” (y/n) was a sensation beyond many horny doms who wanted a boy toy like himself.

chan felt himself getting hard just at (y/n)‘s voice. he was flirtatious, and it was obvious how horny he was through his voice.

“right, i should start. i have a surprise for you all anyway.” (y/n) started. he slowly stood up, his head being cut out of frame and presenting his body instead. he was still dressed but only in a small jacket low enough to cover his crotch. he began to slowly unzip his jacket, each second he proceeded revealed a small, white lingerie. it was very obviously a woman’s lingerie set. he liked that it covered less of his body. it only covered his bulge, and loosely fit around his pecs. the straps wrapped around his body nicely.

chan loved that. instantly, his dick twitched and he felt silly little butterflies in his tummy. arousal started to take over chan as he fantasized about grabbing (y/n)’s small hips and slamming into his ass like there was no tomorrow. he grew harder with each progressive thought, and started to palm himself through his pants. he kept his eyes glued to his computer screen, watching intently as (y/n) started to also palm himself through his panties, body still in frame. the dim room, lit by led lights, didn’t do (y/n) any justice when it came to a clear view. chan wanted to see every detail of (y/n). he wanted to see his dick up close, leaking just for him to see the detail of his face to help his fantasies of cumming on it.

“do you like it? i bought it just for you, sir. i knew you’d love how revealing it is on me. do you like how hard i’m getting? it’s all for you.” (y/n) began to caress his body, pushing his pecs together like they were tits. he slid a hand down to under his panties and slowly massaged his dick and the other one massaged his pec through the bra. massaging his dick caused (y/n) to push his knees together in order to keep his balance as he was still standing.

“fuck it” chan thought. he quickly unzipped his jeans, pulling them, along with his boxers, down to his knees as he sat in his gaming chair. he gave his cock a few strokes, adding a few drops of lube. chan never used lube too much but he began to need it more to help the fantasies of being in (y/n)‘s warm, lubed-up ass.

(y/n) sat back down in his gaming chair in front of his monitor. he began to read more comments that were flooding in. of course, all horny. he smiled a bit, his cheeks flushing.

“you do like it? i’m so happy you do. i just want to make you happy, daddies…should i show you my cock? do you want to see how wet and hard it is for you, sir?” the comments began to flood with many “yes”’s.

(y/n) giggled, “hm, okay. but i only will if i get three $10 donations, okay?” chan thought about donating. he contemplated it for a long while until his opportunity was over due to 3 other users instantly donating. chan loved donating to (y/n) but he wanted to hear (y/n) say his name tonight. “i should save my money for the later donation” he thought.

“oh wow, so quick. you are so good to me, daddies.” as (y/n) read off the usernames who donated and thanked them, chan couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous. chan secretly wants (y/n) all to himself, but he won’t admit that to himself.

“since you were so kind to donate to me, i’ll let you see my cock now as promised.” (y/n) said, getting up from his chair and leaving only his body in frame again. he slipped off his panties slowly, taking his time and teasing his viewers, teasing chan. the moment his dick was set free, it bounced up and hit his stomach than bobbled back down to a semi-hard stance. he shook his hips a bit, making his dick wave from side to side to show it off.

“see how wet i am?” he asked. chan could see the light reflecting off of the small dribbles of cum on his tip. chan stroked his dick tightly, palming his tip every once and a while. chan was loud when he jerked off but tried his best not to be. but when it came to (y/n), he struggled to hold in his moans. these weren’t moans of lazy pleasure anymore, they were moans of pure high of arousal. chan felt dumb when he saw (y/n) stroke his beautiful cock. his cock was smaller than chan’s but chan found it cute. it was because of (y/n) that chan began to prefer little cocks to dominate rather than bigger ones.

(y/n) sat down again, his webcam gave a perfect view of his dick, thighs, torso, and face. chan could see everything he needed in order to motivate his cock. chan’s tip was red and hungry for (y/n)‘s ass. all chan wanted right now was to pound into him and shoot his seed into him.

(y/n) moaned, “ah~ god, im so wet already…do you like my cock, daddies? don’t get impatient, okay? i promise i’ll let you see this ass too.” he giggled, giving a smirk. (y/n) already looked blissed out and drunk on dopamine. his breath was unsteady and his moans were let free.

chan continued his strokes, covering his mouth as he felt butterflies invade his stomach again. it only made his cock twitch more.

after some more stroking and moaning from (y/n), he slowed, looking at his monitor. he scanned the comments, many of them by now were asking to see his ass.

he giggled, “oh, you want to see my ass, hm?” he pulled his panties back up, forcing them up high, the waist band fitting loosely above his hip bones.

he stood up, slowly turning around and shaking his ass a bit. chan admits, his ass is fairly big. definitely has a bubble butt for how small his build generally is. chan loved it of course, he loved thinking about slapping it while doing doggy and absolutely destroying his hole.

with the thong pulled up, his ass was fully out, fabric tucked within his ass cheeks. he massaged it, making it bounce up and down a bit. the recoil almost made chan cum on the spot. “fuck, his ass is so hot.” he said under his breath.

(y/n) turned to face his webcam again, this time turning the webcam to point towards his bed. his bed was decorated with a few stuffed animals and a white, satin sheet. his body was forced into frame, now with a dildo in his hand. it was realistic, a few veins running up the side, about 8 inches(20.3 cm) which was perfect for chan’s imagination since he was 7.5 inches(19 cm). (y/n) plopped himself up on his bed, setting the dildo next to him. he lifted up his bra above his pecs, pinching at his nipples accompanied by the massaging of his pecs. he forced them together, faintly imitating the shape of breasts.

“do you like them? do you like how big they are for you?” this made chan’s dick twitch. since he was bisexual, it was expected, but chan felt that this turned him on a little too much. he sped up the strokes on his dick, throwing his head back every few minutes. the room was filled with scant moans and whines, along with aqueous-sounding strokes. keeping his eyes glued to his screen, he watched as (y/n) lubed up the dildo in his hand, twisting his hand on the tip and slowly jerking it off. chan slowed his pace down to mimic what (y/n) was implementing on the dildo. chan closed his eyes and listened to (y/n)’s voice as he imagined (y/n) stroking his cock instead.

“your cock feels so good in my hand. it’s so big and wet. i can’t wait to feel you in my ass, daddy.” (y/n) moaned. he made intense eye contact with webcam. this was typical for him. (y/n) would make eye contact with the webcam every session to make the process more personal and seductive.

by this time, chan’s grip on his computer chair handle tightened, making his knuckles turn white. he had to edge himself just to hold himself off from cumming, even at this slow pace, chan was unbelievably close.

continuing to slowly stroke the dildo, it generating a lewd, wet sound, (y/n) announced, “i’d love to continue, but you all know what time it is, don’t you?” chan knew exactly what (y/n) was talking about. every time he went live, he asked for a $45 donation from chat, and whoever donated first was the lucky one to get their name moaned as (y/n) absolutely destroys his ass and cums all over himself.

chan’s stomach dropped, he wanted to be first. he wanted to go over the top just for (y/n), but maybe that was just the arousal making chan so desperate and dumb.

dumbly, chan scurried in order to be the first to donate. chan, dick still in one hand, hardly had to think about it before he ended up donating $100 to the boy. shock took over chan as he realized what he had just done, but simply stared at (y/n) and waited for his reaction.

chan watched as his username popped up in the corner of the screen, “call.me.chris donated $100!” it read. the small alarm of the donation pinging, getting (y/n)’s attention.

“oh my, $100?…thank you, sir…” it was obvious that (y/n) was flustered and shocked, but he tried to hide it the best he could in order to keep his provocative persona.

“well since you were first to donate, i should get ready for you then, shouldn’t i, chris?” chan hearing (y/n) say his name made him whine lowly, covering his mouth as he felt the heat radiate from his cheeks.

(y/n) prepared himself by picking up his dildo once again, stroking it a few times to warm up the lube, and turned his body around and proceeded to get on all fours. his ass was pointed up high. chan had a clear view of his beautiful asshole, and divine ass. (y/n) reached around, using his hands to spread open his cheeks to showcase his asshole some more.

chan sped up his strokes once again, moaning into his hand that was still covering his mouth. chan had a kaleidoscope of butterflies fill his tummy as he watched. he felt so incredibly special to (y/n) in that moment. he got what he wanted: (y/n)’s attention.

(y/n) arched his back, forcing his ass up high. a few of his fingers were still wet from the lube on his dildo, so he used it to massage his asshole, slowly inserting his middle finger. moans fell from (y/n)’s mouth as he continued to force his finger in and out of his ass. the lube made him slick and easy. chan wanted so bad to see (y/n)’s face as he fucked himself.

chan threw his head back, eyes rolling in the back of his head. he continued to please himself, imagining that it was (y/n)’s ass that was pleasing him instead. the sounds that chan was hearing only motivated him to cum even more.

after a few minutes, and a few more peeks at (y/n)’s ass from his monitor screen, the sounds hushed. this got chan’s attention of course, forcing him to find the source of the pause.

he was presented with a pulchritudinous sight. within those few moments of silence and rustling, (y/n) must’ve gotten a little too needy for chris’s dick. he was exposed: legs spread open, on his knees, and was lowering himself onto the dildo that was only help up by his hand on the base of it.

chan paused and watched in awe as he saw (y/n) lower himself onto the dildo, it slowly disappeared in his ass. it was slow, moans and whines slipping from (y/n)‘s lips as his dick pointed straight up and leaking pre-cum.

once (y/n) got to the base, he paused, “your dick is so big, chris.” he giggled, smiling at his webcam. chan was now just a puddle; putty. he felt weak in every aspect and couldn’t even bring himself to continue jerking off, just watch in fascination at (y/n) as he moved slowly up and down, the dildo disappearing and reappearing in his ass. his legs were wide open, giving chan a nice look at all of him: his dick, his balls, his ass and the dildo deep inside of it.

“god, you feel so good. do you like seeing me like this for you, chris? do you like seeing me take your cock so well?” (y/n) asked rhetorically, looking at his webcam once again. chan felt special, he felt like it was only (y/n) and him in his room. chan, for once, forgot about the concept of porn in all of its counterfeit. he forgot about the other 5,000 viewers that probably felt the same way as chan in that moment. it felt real to him, and maybe that’s what pushed him over the edge. he felt like he could cum in seconds if he started to jack off again, and he didn’t want to cum yet. he waited, taking in (y/n). he watched as (y/n) would lift himself off of the dildo,

only to force himself back onto it, the base meeting his ass. every time (y/n) pulled up, strings of lube stuck. it was messy and chan loved it. the small boy was covered in sweat, causing his hair to stick to his face. only the sweet sounds of (y/n) forcing himself onto his dildo and loud whines and moans were heard through chan’s monitor. still riding the dildo, (y/n) rested his arms in front of him to hold him up, forcing his pecs together in order to mimic breasts forced together. they bounced a little from the constant motion of (y/n) pounding himself on his dildo.

(y/n) looked up again, “do you want to fuck yourself between them? cum on them? i’d let you do anything you want to me, chris.” he smiled, blushed cheeks and sweat accompanying his face as well.

this triggered something in chan. he usually wasn’t the one to pursuit so called “femboys.” he was bisexual, sure, but he loved both the feminine aspect of some women and the masculine aspect of some men. he never thought to let it interchange with one another, but chan wasn’t so sure anymore. seeing (y/n) wearing a woman’s lace bra, even the smallest detail of the bounce his pecs would do when he’d slam himself back onto his dildo did something to chan he couldn’t rightfully explain or fully comprehend. though, he didn’t really care either. all he wanted in that moment was to cum to (y/n).

chan’s eyes switched every so often. he didn’t know what he wanted to keep his eyes on more: (y/n)‘s glistering pecs or his bouncing dick. curses fell from (y/n)’s mouth, notioning that he was close.

“fuck, you feel so good, chris…holy shit…please don’t stop, please don’t stop.” drive took over chan, and he couldn’t help but to indulge and please himself to (y/n). he was desperate and wanted to cum, so he started out as rough and aggressive with himself. each pounding (y/n)‘s ass would take only caused chan’s dick to inch closer to release.

“haa~ fuck, so close. mm, please, chris, cum in me. please~” hearing (y/n) beg caused the already present knot in his tummy to accentuate. he felt himself come close, his tip throbbing and profusely leaking. he wanted nothing more than to fuck that small ass of (y/n)‘s; wanted nothing more than to make him cry all because of his big cock.

chan threw his head back, fucking into his hand like it was the small boy on his screen.

“fuck- gonna cum. please, cum with me, chris. please, fuck me until you fill me up.” (y/n) begged. his voice was shaky and raised a few octaves now. his whines were beautiful, chan could of swore that (y/n) was crying at one point from how needy his voice sounded when he begged.

small trails of curses were whined under (y/n)‘s breath before it all came to a stop, the continuously clumsy slaps of (y/n)’s dildo meeting his ass and chan’s sloppy fucks still quietly heard in his room.

chan knew that (y/n) came and was continuing to ride out his high of his orgasm. (y/n)‘s whining and moans pushed chan over the edge, forcing his dick to twitch and coat cum over chan’s hand and a bit of his shirt as well. chan groaned deeply, trying not to be too loud in caution of the other members.

as chan rode out his high, slowly stroking his cum-covered cock, eyelids slightly closed and breath heavy, he watched (y/n) again. he was now trying to catch his breath as well, and slowly raised himself off of his dildo. he sat it next to him, and raised his hand that was also coated in some of his cum. he forced his fingers into his mouth, tasting and swallowing himself.

“you taste so good, chris. i wish i could’ve felt your cum coat my insides though.” he continued to wipe some off the cum that was dripping off of his cock, and wiped his on his tongue, showing his audience. (y/n) never took his eyes away from the webcam, and continued to lick his fingers like it was the best meal he’d ever have. his eyes were semi-closed, and his body was very clearly tired from getting pounded into.

(y/n) lightly giggled, “my body’s so tired from your dick, chris. i’m always tired after i cum, but i think your cock really did a number on me. i can hardly hold myself up.” it was true. he was hardly able to keep his eyes open, let alone get up to end the live.

still in nothing but his bra, he struggled to find steady composure as his knees were wobbly and he began to limp. he picked a blanket up from his bed, wrapping it around his slim body. (y/n) was undoubtedly cute in chan’s eyes.

(y/n) mustered up enough strength to approach his desk where his webcam was located.

“i really hope you enjoyed, chris. thank you for donating, sir. i hope i can pound myself to you again soon, your cock was amazing…bye, sir.” (y/n) waved lightly, his body was giving in to the comedown of his previous orgasm. (y/n) kissed his viewers goodbye and ended the live.

chan looked at the end screen for a bit, trying to take in everything he has just done. he was even still shocked that he donated $100 to (y/n). he decided it was best to shower to rinse himself free of his cum. no matter how tired he physically was, chan couldn’t put off the thought of (y/n). he replayed the whole scene in his head, eventually needing to jack himself off again due to how hard he got due to a simple thought of (y/n). maybe chan was more intrigued with (y/n) than he thought.

(potential part 2?!)

xo, kai <3.

[blossom-hwa]

a detailed analysis of rizz levels across pretty much every group I stan 

chip ( @wingkkun​​ ) and I had a very interesting conversation about this a couple months ago. here are the results, complete with direct citations and paraphrasing from our instagram dms. I do not take constructive criticism but I will entertain debates in my inbox. think of it as a scientific peer review

table of contents (in order): txt | seventeen | stray kids | ateez | the boyz | honorary mentions (golcha, nct, p1h, beomhan)

(disclaimer: all of this is meant in good fun and is not meant to be rude or harmful to any member I talk about. I love every one of them and in the end this is all just a joke!)

TXT.

soobin: below the charts. this man has negative infinity rizz. less rizz than me and that’s saying something bc I only ever flirt on accident if I tried to do it on purpose the world would explode. the limit of his rizz as you approach any point is negative infinity and I do not feel sorry for saying this. in the wise words of chip, “we like you bc ur ultimate cringefail (affectionate)”

taehyun: net positive rizz. I'm definitely biased but also do not argue with me I will bite your face off. the amount of rizz he has is a true problem and I am not immune to it (neither are you). he’s so cute and he’s also so hot and smart and I'm never going to shut up if I keep going so I'll stop. positive rizz. off the charts. do not @ me.

beomgyu: please refer to hoshi’s bit below. they are one and the same. beomgyu had too much rizz it was eating him alive so his body compressed and converted it (lossless compression) to another form and now he’s a chaos monster who screams for a living and oozes what remains of his original rizz onstage. we love him for it

hyuka: +10 rizz because he’s cute. no more than that because he’s an overgrown baby (affectionate). he gives me a lot of brain damage but it’s just because of his plushies and his little brother energy so I feel like he could manipulate me with his rizz but it would only go so far before I either pat his head bc he’s so cute or I punch him in the face bc of the annoying sibling energy therefore he only gets ten points

yeonjun: after going through the entirety of our conversation I realize now that chip and I forgot to diagnose the rizz levels of the fourth gen it boy so now I'm pulling some shit out of my ass. net positive but low magnitude. I give him +3. mostly because he’s got insane stage presence and has the ability to kick beomgyu in the face but he’s soooooo pathetic. possibly reading skye’s ( @warmau​​ ) thoughts about him have influenced me but he’s pathetic hence the very very low magnitude of rizz. I am not sorry

SEVENTEEN.

mingyu: rizzless. I direct you to this post I made because it’s factual and explains his horrifically low levels of rizz. do not be fooled by this man’s muscles he’s constantly screaming crying throwing up to be told he’s sexy but the second someone does tell him that he’s a blushing anime girl (affectionate) and we love him for it but he’s rizzless. negative off the charts

jun: rizzless but not in the same manner as mingyu he just does not know what rizz is. very similar to juyeon in this manner. the8 or dino have definitely tried to explain rizz to him before but he simply does not understand and does not care to. even if he did understand it I'm still not certain he’d care which gives him a lower magnitude rizz than mingyu which is better even if it’s still negative

the8: positive rizz with quite a high magnitude. I can’t quantify it but it doesn’t even matter because even though he has rizz he doesn’t use it. he’d rather tell us to stop having a parasocial relationship with people behind our little computer screens and ooze rizz via charisma on stage instead and I can respect that.

seungkwan: so much rizz. so much fucking rizz have you ever seen this man complimenting female idols on shows. have you ever seen this man tell idols they’re pretty and wonderful and beautiful in every which way without batting a damn eye and with so much earnestness I blush. cannot believe chip ever thought this man as on the same level of rizzlessness as soob smh

vernon: 0 rizz, but this does not mean he is rizzless. rizz is a spectrum and having 0 levels of it just means you are rizz neutral. purely neutral. no one has purely neutral rizz the way vernon does he’s simply so special. that one gose episode where he showed up in that rainbow hoodie with red glasses? that’s the epitome of rizz neutrality

s.coups: refer to daeyeol’s bit below. handsome. reliable. have you seen him with kkuma. I melt every time. unfortunately he is still horrifically pathetic and though we adore him for it this does unfortunately decrease his rizz levels drastically. without it he’d probably be somewhere at positive infinity but now he’s at like +8. the world knew that if coups wasn’t pathetic enough he’d be too powerful so they had to humble him.

hoshi: he doesn’t have rizz but it’s not like the nerds where their rizz levels are just buried in the negatives it’s more like the magnitude of his rizz was so high that it has since been compressed and turned into something else. so he has no rizz but it’s not because he was born pathetic, it’s because it was converted due to the law of conservation of rizz (real)

wonwoo: similar to taehyun in that they’re both very positive but slightly different. yes they are both gym rats yes they are both token introverts (sort of) but wonwoo is a gamer. their rizz is fundamentally different but they’ve evolved to be similar due to their personalities kinda like wings on bats and birds. as you can tell it’s been a while since I took biology

jeonghan: similar to lino in that he has rizz but he stole it. the difference between them is that lino has some natural organic rizz while jeonghan was born with none and stole all that he owns now. without this stolen rizz he would be a limp noodle dragging himself across the earth but now he’s a fairy. life isn’t fair

dino: negative but low magnitude. the first number I gave him was -14 I don’t really know why it was -14 specifically but the point is it’s supposed to be low magnitude. recently he began climbing my bias list and chip yesterday convinced me to change his magnitude to to something lower so I now give him -4. I am easily swayed

joshua: positive rizz in the same manner as jangjun et al. the man is fucking insane. insane charisma but also just plain insane. I'm not entirely convinced he didn’t steal some of it but while jeonghan freely admits that he stole it joshua keeps evading the question. there is a venn diagram of jangjun et al and lino et al and joshua is in the intersection

woozi: I considered an intersection between chanhee and the8 and I think woozi falls into it. perhaps I've just been gaslit into thinking he has positive rizz but let’s just roll with the thought. has some rizz like the8 (less than the8 though) but does not care to use it (like chanhee) and also doesn’t really care that it’s there. he just kinda lets it be

dk: net negative but low magnitude. I originally gave him -13 to bc I thought he was a step above dino but not by much. I still kind of think this way so I'm elevating him to -3 since dino got elevated to -4. sorry dino I think you’ll always be one step behind no matter how big of a crush I have on you

STRAY KIDS. 

lino: has rizz but in the wrong way. the man touches butts for a living AND he has cats he’s got to have some rizz hence the net positive but he also definitely stole some. please refer to my comments on this post for details he definitely does not organically have all this rizz but he’s stolen it and now it’s his you can’t ask for it back

chan: also has rizz but in the wrong way but also differently from lino. chan should not have as much rizz as he does but he’s got that “libra sun scorpio venus rizz” (chip) which makes him extremely dangerous. he’s a loser and for that I'd give him negative rizz but unfortunately he has an aura that separates him from the likes of mingyu (it’s the dilf dad energy) so he has net positive rizz of a dangerous magnitude.

jisung: we welcome another member to the ranks of the negative infinity rizz. do I even need to explain. does the anime girl babygirl pathetic cute energy not already do enough explanation for you. I should not have to spell out the fact that this man is rizzless at every point on the mathematic plane. I love him to death but that will not save him from the rizzless fate

seungmin: please refer to jangjun in the honorary mentions below. his rizz applies here. positive rizz. high magnitude. ridiculous for a man of his caliber but here we are. he’s got some weird mutant rizz and that’s all I can really say like.....what do you become when you have rizz levels +69,420. what do you fucking do. 

changbin: fluctuates between +10 and -10 like a sine curve (please refer to mingi’s bit for more information). his positive rizz is similar energy to yunho but louder and his negative rizz is just pathetic baby boy-ness. I adore him. big muscle men who are soft. I don’t have a section for wonho but if I did they’d be of very similar types. 

hyunjin: negative rizz. he’s an only child what else do I need to say. ferret energy. flails around. long limbs that he doesn’t know what to do with. so much baby girl energy I always want to laugh at him (affectionate). lovely boy so very lovely with such fucking negative rizz

felix: like jangjun and co his rizz got converted but unlike jangjun and co it was not converted to insanity. it was converted to something...... alien. idk how to explain it. asymptotic rizz, according to chip. weird behavior as x approaches infinity. I agree with this assessment. nothing earthly explains how this man is so ethereal so I have concluded that alien magic converted his rizz to ethereality

jeongin: ok so I did say vernon is the only one who’s truly reached rizz neutral but jeongin is pretty close. similar vibes. they’re both slightly insane of course but they are also more than likely to just stand there and vibe. this gives off rizz neutrality. jeongin is less neutral (probably tipped in the negative direction) but he’s getting there. 

ATEEZ.

seonghwa: rizzless this man is the nerdiest nerd ever he is RIZZLESS. magnitude infinity in the negative region of the graph. he and soobin are two sides of the same coin the latter is a lanky little gamer dude and the former is a Star Wars nerd with a display case for his figurines. the absolute most negative rizz ever (affectionate)

yunho: oooooooo my god. positive rizz if I've ever seen one. so much rizz. so much fucking rizz. the magnitude of his rizz is off the charts and unlike the other insane ones his rizz didn’t get converted so he is DANGEROUS. if you ever meet this man in the wild run in the other direction you will not survive his pull. in the wise words of chip “yunho has |rizz| (absolute positive rizz)”

mingi: his rizz...fluctuates. like a sine curve idk. he alternates between having so much rizz it hurts and so little rizz it’s laughable. yes I have definitely been influenced by having seen him in concert twice (do NOT bring up the fact that he became a wrecker after the second). he knows he’s hot and will use that to the best of his ability but he’s also kind of pathetic and for some reason it doesn’t balance out so he fluctuates

jongho: has rizz. does not care to use it. falls in the same camp of the the8-ers (refer to the seventeen section) in which he prefers to simply ooze rizz onstage and kill everyone’s heart there instead of flirting with fans. respectable. also incredibly dangerous. everyone wants to hug him but if you try to his rizz will snap you in half but if not huggable then why hug shape?

hongjoong: net positive rizz but he’s convinced he has more than he does so I dock several points due to excessive confidence. panics too much when wooyoung tries to kiss him for me to restore them. if he gay panicked a little less then I might consider him having as much rizz as he says he does but alas he does not and so I will not. 

san: -10 rizz. negative but not too negative. he’s really cute and really hot but also really pathetic and I say this with the greatest fondness imaginable. remember that one poll where tiny voted him as the person they’d least like to vacation w bc he’d stay inside (don’t worry me too san)? same vibes. his patheticness outweighs his hotness and while they’re close, ultimately patheticness wins out. sorry not sorry

yeosang: net positive rizz but he does not use it. this is not by choice. he just doesn’t know how to. in fact I'm not fully convinced he knows what rizz is. in this manner he is somewhat similar to juyeon (refer to the boyz section below) except where juyeon’s rizz is negative infinity yeosang has some positive levels. in chip’s words get well soon yeo

wooyoung: falls in the same camp as hyunjae in that he has fully negative rizz and embraces this fact to use it as a weapon. dangerous man. fully insane. if his rizz was positive he’d be the same as jangjun and co but unfortunately he’s pathetic for hongjoong so his rizz is negative and is not handled the same way. 

THE BOYZ.

hyunjae: all of Bermuda line is rizzless to the max but in different ways. in hyunjae’s case he knows he is rizzless and fully accepts and utilizes this to his benefit. you’re telling me this man doesn’t know how pathetic (fond) he is? he’s self aware and will absolutely use this against you. as dangerous as those with high positive levels of rizz. watch the fuck out

younghoon: fully rizzless bc he’s in Bermuda line but is not self aware. in fact he protests that he does have positive rizz but look at this man. he has the energy of a dying victorian child trying to make it past this cold, cold winter. all you want to do is pat his head and coo at him to make him feel better he has no rizz. absolute negatives. 

juyeon: again, completely and negatively rizzless since he’s in Bermuda line but like younghoon he is fully unaware. in a different way though. why you ask? because this man definitely has no idea what rizz is. look at his sweet little eyes and tell me he knows. that’s right. you can’t. 

q: negative rizz. not as low as Bermuda line/seonghwa/soobin/etc. but still quite negative. the thing is no one ever tells him this or brings it up to his face because he’s dangerous. he may not know what rizz is but he does know what an insult is and if you say a word about his purported negative rizz levels you will not be heard from again. this is a warning. 

sangyeon: has net positive rizz. it isn’t super high but given the fact that I've just said four of his members have some of the lowest rizz levels imaginable it’s relatively high in the realm of tbz. can’t really explain it but he gets this rizz from his hot tired uncle energy that no one is immune to. have you seen him with his nephews? don’t argue with me. 

(at this point chip told me to stop making rizz comments bc their stomach hurt. I did not stop)

kevin: rizz levels -1. not quite negative infinity. in fact pretty far from it. still negative though and he’ll never recover from that. I'd say that I'm sorry but I'm really not no matter how much this man works out I will never be able to stop laughing at him to his face (in best friend fashion). love you kev

new: negative. not horrifically so like Bermuda line but still more negative than kev. you may be thinking what the fuck lina new has so much rizz wdym? you’re wrong. he doesn’t have rizz and he doesn’t care. his lack of care gives the illusion that he actually has positive rizz but he does not. do not be fooled

haknyeon: POSITIVE RIZZ. do not question the positive rizz of tangerine boy ju haknyeon. it may not be positive infinity but I do say he’s around +50ish and given the patheticness that surrounds him that’s pretty fucking good I’d say. so much rizz. so much true rizz. I love him

sunwoo: the most negative fucking rizz ever except he’s convinced it’s positive.  see without this unfounded conviction his rizz would just be somewhere around -50 and he’d be fine because Bermuda line exists but nooooo he decided to ruin it by being overly confident in his rizz powers so now he’s at negative infinity and one. sucks to suck.

jacob: (chip came up with this one) he has beomgyu and jangjun levels of rizz so like rizz off the charts but while a lot of it was converted into weirdness some of it stayed rizz so. hm. a tamer version of jangjun if you will. however beware because his rizz is once again increasing since he stopped playing league. watch out.

eric: negative rizz. same boat as sunwoo. their rizz magnitudes are the exact same and in the same direction (negative obviously) but it’s in a slightly different manner. both have unfounded confidence in their imaginary positive rizz levels but eric’s is in the manner of a teacher’s pet who thinks they’re popular while sunwoo is just plain mad

HONORARY MENTIONS.

jangjun (golden child): positive rizz and it’s terrible. I can’t tell you what the number is (it’s +69,420) but it’s really fucking high and I hate it. most of his rizz has been compressed and converted like hoshi’s to something resembling insanity but unlike hoshi there is a dangerous amount left. beware this man

daeyeol (golden child): +5 rizz. he’s handsome and reliable and if we got married I would be able to trust him to get things done. similar to sangyeon in that he’s got hot tired uncle energy but he’s also pathetic so he only gets five rizz points

mark (nct): negative rizz if I've ever seen one, but missing the negative infinity rizz by one point. I just need him differentiated from soobin and jisung and the other pathetic ones. mark is pathetic but I give him one point out of pity

beomhan (??): I don’t know anything about this guy except that he can’t cook and has high cholesterol problems from eating too many eggs but he’s in the same group as jangjun and co

keeho (p1h): I also don’t know anything about this guy except what chip has told me but I think he’s similar to chanhee and chip thinks he’s on sunwoo’s level. do with this information what you will

[fleetinggill]

DISCLAIMER‼️: I have DID. I was officially diagnosed earlier this year, but had been aware of it for quite some time before that. This concept is basically just me conveying my own experience/struggles through a character I’m really attached to. Creating this sort of “AU” is a way for me to express and work through my feelings about having DID. I don’t see DID treated with care in media and I know it’s cliche but “be the change you want to see” and all that.

Concept for a self-indulgent (and angsty) desertduo Life series fanfic:

Grian remembers everything. Every grain of sand in the desert, every “aha!”, every hair on the Jellie pandas’ heads.

In fact, most people remember the majority of what’s happened in each Life, though maybe not to the same extent. They try to put it all behind them each time they start anew and most of them are far better at doing that than Grian, who lets it eat away at him.

Scar doesn’t remember much. It’s all been a blur in the past… months? Years, maybe? He can feel that something terrible has happened but he just can’t remember.

… In which Scar has DID and that’s why he can’t remember the awful things that have happened in previous series, even though it eats away at Grian every second of every day.

THAT SAID… My motivation to write has been really low. I don’t expect there to be much interest, but if there is, I will try to motivate myself more.

[ace-race-ace]

Autistic traits reflected by Max Verstappen - Part 2/?

Part 1

DISCLAIMER: this is in no way ‘diagnosing’ Max as autistic. You should not in any way use this post as a reason to start claiming so on Tumblr or any other platform as it can be damaging in many aspects. These are just observations made by me, an autistic person mostly as a sense of comfort in some similar actions/behaviors. It’s fine to discuss and find more instances, but it’s not with an end goal to ‘prove’ anything

Sensory avoidance/seeking

Autistic people often have very specific preferences when it comes to sensory input. Often times there are textures or tastes that we simply can’t/don’t want to deal with. Neurotypical people might dislike something but can “get over it” either because it isn’t that big a deal or out of social norms (ex: pretending to like food given to you to not seem rude). However, autistic people have a much harder time masking our dislike for certain things. A lot of times it’s because it actually physically hurts us in a way, either by headaches, gagging, or pins and needles. It’s not something we can easily ignore and it’s a constant struggle.

On the flip side, there are also sensory things we really enjoy and will reach out for even if it isn’t ‘acceptable’ to (ex: grabbing someone’s shirt out of nowhere because it looks soft and not letting go)

Examples of sensory ‘problems’ with Max

All of these are moments that separately wouldn’t be necessarily considered autistic behavior but it’s the fact it pops up a lot compared to others

Singapore crab video - right from the start, Max is obviously uncomfortable with the crab. Daniel is quick to point out Max doesn’t like seafood. Despite Max being extremely competitive, he doesn’t even attempt to get over his dislike to win the ‘challenge’. He also walks around a lot, probably as a self soothing gesture. Daniel jokingly puts the crab near his face and he can’t stop gagging and completely refuses to be near it.

Singapore Durian video - Similar to above. What’s particularly interesting about this one though is seeing how different Daniel’s and Max’s reactions are. Durian is known to be a ‘stinky’ fruit that many people don’t enjoy the taste of. Daniel definitely expresses how he finds the smell displeasing and when he tastes it, he definitely doesn’t like it. But he stays pretty tame, simply just saying it tastes bad. Max is much more hesitant, not even touching it to taste it. When he does, he immediately starts violently gagging and walking around. This is reflects the inability to mask some reactions as an autistic person. Most people would try and have a more tame reaction like Dan because durian is quite an important cultural thing but Max not at all

English crisps video - Again a great comparison video since Checo is with him. Max straight away expresses his dislike of cheese and repeatedly brings it up. His facial expressions are so pronounced every time he tastes any of the crisps meanwhile Checo is just kinda there like meh, whatever. Max also over explaining his thoughts on the taste and deeply observing every snack before eating it. Checo looks quickly or might give a quick sniff but Max is like intensely inspecting every one of them.

Monaco pool video - More over explaining on Max’s part. He could have just said oh I don’t like the fact people are jumping in together which would be reasonable, especially with everyone being sweaty after the race. Yet his problem is extremely specific, the fluff of new socks?? Like I’m autistic myself and I have no clue what he is talking about. It’s this special attention to detail that most people don’t think about that really exemplifies the autistic aspect.

AUS GP 2024 sand - This is very blink and you’ll miss it and very personal to my own experience. Max complains about already having sand in his shoe. Again, everyone else is also running in the sand and probably has some too but they can easily ignore it and keep going with the video. Max however makes his discomfort obvious. As a kid, I absolutely HATED having sand stuck to me like this, I wouldn’t put my shoes on or leave the beach before every grain of sand was off of me so his reaction just really reminded me of that.

Examples of sensory seeking with Max

Bahrain 2024 microphone - Max intensely observing the mic he’s never seen before, turning it around. Then he starts petting it like a cat and continues to do so despite Checo talking. Checo even jokingly makes fun of him at the end for how much he seems to like the mic.

Full body hugs - Everyone has seen how all consuming Max’s hugs are (with the people he likes). Autistic people often enjoy deep pressure which can be achieved through these strong hugs. Yet it often seems he doesn’t initiate them himself as much, which could relate to how autistic people are often afraid to initiate such deep contact because other people may find it strange. So he waits to be pulled in before fully engulfing the other in a hug.

———————————————————————————

There are many more examples but these are a few I could think of off the top of my head :)

More parts to come!

[sygneth]

I am not even sure if I will be posting this (though, if you're reading this, I did), but, nevertheless, I have a few points about Jean that I have to make. He is no saint. He is an asshole and I’m not gonna pretend that he is not. But there is so much more to it. 

Let me start with the most obvious. He is said to have clinically diagnosed depression, with, apparently, no distinctive source, and, from what he says, we may assume he is under some sort of psychiatric supervision. 

He was diagnosed seven years ago. Diagnosed with depression, which probably means he’s been dealing with it for a good while longer, only at a certain moment he decided to seek help/had an attempt/any other circumstance that lead this man to get a diagnosis. He is now 34, seven years earlier he’d be 27. 

The reasons for such unspecified depression may be many, from some kind of a rare neurological defect causing one’s brain to be incapable of properly producing/transmitting/I’m-not-a-biologist-neither-is-English-my-first-language-so-I’m-not-gonna-dig-into-neurological-dysfunctions-further-but-you-get-the-point, serotonin, through a burnout, all the way to having other, undiagnosed disorders/illnesses as *checks Luiga’s tweets* Schizoid PD (I am not convinced that what Jean presents is a 100% textbook SPD example, rather SPD traits/behavior patterns? But I’m no specialist and even if I were, it’s hard to diagnose someone based on those few dialogue lines) and codependency tendencies. The doctors didn’t diagnose any other disorder, or at least he never mentions it, but looking at the world of Elysium, those disorders may not yet have been widely recognized, especially if not presenting themselves in the most typical ways/high-functioning. And Jean tends to be high functioning despite his issues. Yet, I assume that in Elysium, and Jamrock especially, the access and quality of psychological and psychiatric services are poor and probably limited. Not to mention education on the matter, which is probably low if not near none. (Just looking at how is alcoholism treated by *everyone* there, or the short mention of McCoy’s brother gives me a good 90’s/early 00s Eastern Europe vibe of mental issues/disabilities public awareness.)  Now, keep that in mind. 

Alright. Next up: a codependent, close relationship with an alcoholic. 

Jean’s relationship with Harry is an interesting one. I found this interesting research on codependency among spouses of alcoholics, that states codependency is related to, among others, SPD traits. (That’s an, uh, disclaimer? I was just curious how that two may coexist, but apparently, they do.) 

Back to the main thought. 

As someone who has been in a close, codependent relationship with a person who had problems with drinking, I can tell you something. It’s more than hard to get out of one. You see a person you care about do stupid, drunken, dangerous shit, you may be angry at them, you may be furious, yet you will still feel responsible for them in a way, and you will take that responsibility and try to get them out of the shit they got themselves into. I’ll say more, if that’s an actual relationship, you will feel social pressure that you are responsible for your partner’s behavior and you’re the one to take care of them. If it’s your work partner, then it’s highly probable you actually will be held responsible for their behavior, so you’re even more likely to clean up their mess. And when you help them out, because you care, because you feel like you should, because you don’t want to be “dicked” for it, maybe all of the above, they will be grateful and they will praise you and love you and even if you feel like this is not the right thing to do, you will do it again.

It takes a lot of work and self-awareness to get out of something like that healthily. And if you have some psychological knowledge, it also helps a lot, to understand how to deal with it. And the only way to do it, regardless healthy or not, is by setting boundaries. If you can healthily set them, and make the other person respect them, that’s very good. But if you have some other mental issues in addition to that, if you lack knowledge on how people’s behavior patterns work, on how exactly addictions work and that, you are maybe having some problems with generally understanding relationships between people, how and why they work, it’s very likely that you won’t be capable of setting those boundaries and enforce them to be respected. It’s very likely that one day, when something will happen and you will realize how toxic and unhealthy this relationship is for you, you will panic and you will start to do anything to get out of it, like a cat drowning in a well. That you will start acting cold, maybe even merciless from a certain perspective, maybe you won’t let yourself believe in their pleading and assurances of change, because you will know that letting yourself *feel* sympathy for the person you had this relationship with may lead to spiraling back into the wheel of codependency. Maybe you have already tried this, and letting yourself trust them only led you back to the point where you started and maybe this time, you don’t want it to end up this way.

And you know what? There is nothing wrong with trying to ensure your mental well-being. “Before approaching the casualty, always make sure the area is safe.” YES because if you’ll get hurt trying to help somebody, there will be one more person to help. The same applies to helping people get their life together. If you won’t have a good mindset to help them, if they will only drag you down, maybe the area isn’t safe? 

Moving on. 

Now, remember when I said that the level of social and psychological awareness seems very low in Elysium/Revachol/Jamrock? About that. 

You know what else I see, looking at the Harry-Jean-Dora-Kim situation? A bunch of people with self-awareness in terms of emotion, and emotional development of teenagers, but problems of grown-up people. And they are not to blame, the system is to blame. Harry seems to be very self-conscious and connected to his emotions, yet for six years he couldn’t find a healthy way to get over a heartbreak. He has tendencies to act violently, to randomly drunk-phone his ex to harass her (I mean come on, he was asking her if she is naked), not to mention a tone of other things. 

What happens here to Jean, is his situationship/best friend, whom yeah, he decided to ‘have a break’ with, immediately gets over it, and starts to go out with someone else. Taking, that this man has probably understanding of his emotions on a level of a high-schooler, he WILL be salty. He will be mad at Harry and he will be salty towards Kim when he sees them in Whirling. (Not to mention that it’s probably how they just roll in the precinct, and I’m quite sure that Harry’s and Jean’s relationship has been japing on and teasing each other, and as long as they both knew how it works, it was all good, compare: this post. So yes, Jean will be angry with Harry and he will act like an offended drama queen partially because that is just how their relationship dynamics probably looked like for the last two (at least!) years, and partially because he is an offended 16-year-old drama queen, whose bestie told her to fuck off and found a new (boy)friend. 

Is it good, that grown-up men have the emotional capabilities of high schoolers? No. Should we blame them, or the fact that their system seemingly doesn’t provide any prevention, doesn’t promote awareness, or offer any proper healthcare for that matter? I’ll leave that to you.

To add to all this, yes, the RCM’s fucked up system, hierarchy, and mentality don’t help. Yes, it would be better for both Harry and Jean and probably Kim too, taking for his PTSD, to get the fuck out of there and live peaceful lives. But you know, changing your whole lifestyle isn’t easy. Understanding that maybe it’s better to leave now and that it doesn’t mean you’ve “wasted” your years is a process, a long and hard one. I had to learn this. My close ones had to learn this. Some of them still didn’t, especially, that where I come from, there is this CEE culture of not letting yourself fail with peace of mind. You got to do everything the best you can, you gotta do it 120%, and if not, you’re a rotten piece of shit. Looking at how Harry treats himself, Revachol seems to have this in common with Central-Eastern Europe as well. 

Another thing, we don’t even know what Kim or Jean did before they joined the RCM, and Harry was a gym teacher. Thinking that it is easy to just switch your job in, again, a place with a CEE mentality, is a huge mistake. At the age of 40-odd years especially. In the 90s, especially. We don’t even know if Jean or Kim have any other education on their account, besides being cops, so changing professions would mean additional education, and for Harry, how many places, realistically, would take in a 45-year-old gym teacher?

I generally see that many people seem to forget/not understand how CE European mentality works, and it shows. I am glad that we live in a world where awareness of things such as homophobia, ableism, misogyny and else is common knowledge. But it wasn’t here, not even those 15 years ago. I remember people using names of dysfunctions and disabilities as slurs. Grown up people. I remember my classmates and my friend calling each other faggots or laughing at each other for not being gender-affirmative enough. Half of us turned out to be queer, and nobody had a problem with that, because in those times this kind of language wasn’t necessarily indicating someone’s worldview, it was just a bad habit, a very common one. I am more than happy, really, that we got rid of this kind of narrative and are more aware of the weight of a spoken word now. But when talking about past or settings that resemble this past, let’s please not forget that it DID look different and take that into consideration. Please. 

Remembering what we derived from and what a great progress as a society we did is important, as it shows the way we managed to walk, but also reminds us of what people had to deal with. And is a warning, because now we’re probably still all doing things that in 30 years will be so, so wrong. 

So concluding this ridiculously long consciousness stream, I love you, DE fandom. Now, I have an interview to watch (probably not anymore) and a comic page to draw (as always). I’ll leave you with this here.

[lykaios2]

You don’t have to do this, this is just me asking, but do you think you could do a yonder ROTTMNT  brothers x autistic reader? (separate of course)

my good [insert gender neutral term used to reference a person here], if you put something into my inbox I am going to write it

anyway uh little disclaimer: I may be self diagnosed with autism but by no means does that make me an expert, people's experiences are different and I don't mean to stick stereotypes on people

anyways hope you enjoy! ❤️

Leo:

-Leo thinks you’re adorable

-All of your little stims and fidget toys

-But a lot of his romantic gestures seem to be off the table

-He loves looking into your eyes, but he doesn’t like it when you don’t look into his

-He’ll turn your face towards his so he can see your beautiful eyes

-Sometimes you’ll tear up because you’re uncomfortable from the long period of eye contact

-But he only thinks it makes your eyes more beautiful

-He is also very fond of picking you up out of nowhere

-While he knows you don’t like being scared like that, it’s the only way other than holding hands that he can be close to you

-(But sometimes he’ll break into your home at night and cuddle with you while you sleep)

Raph:

-Raph loves taking care of youHe knows very well that you need some extra help sometimes

-And he’s very glad that he’s the one that can give it to you

-His favorite thing is giving you bear hugs to help with your sensory issues

-In that moment, you’re safe in his arms, and he’s the only one you’ll ever need

-But he doesn’t like when other people help you

-He’s supposed to be your one and only savior

-The only one who knows what you need, that can help you

-One time you asked if you could go see a therapist to help with your anxiety, and he got very upset

-“Why would you need to go see anyone else? I’m all you’ll ever need, babe…no one else knows you like I do. They can’t help you like I can. You don’t need to see a therapist.”

-He said in such a loving tone that you were even convinced he was right…

Mikey:

-Mikey puts you first

-He knows everything that you need

-He is so eager to help you, in fact, that sometimes he goes a little overboard

-Every day he gives you a new fidget toy to use

-And he gets very sad if you reject his offer

-(Even though you already have hundreds)

-He tends to treat you like a kid

-Asking how your day’s been, if you need anything

-He cooks you food, drives you everywhere, puts you to bed

-It gets a little annoying sometimes, being treated like that

-But if anyone were to even lay a finger on you, he goes full defensive mode

-God forbid anyone insult you

Donnie:

-As someone who also has autism, he understands your needs

-But he still gets a little frustrated sometimes

-He wants to love you, but you make it a little hard sometimes

-His unexpected hugs from behind often make you jump, which he doesn’t like

-Your need to be alone more often than usual makes him mad

-Whenever you’re stressed or anxious, he tries to calm you down with hugs and kisses, which only makes it worse

-He has fidget toys on hand for you, because he knows those will always calm you down

-He gets mad whenever he has to use them, though

-He doesn’t like that something else has your attention more

-He also doesn’t understand why his love won't calm you down

-Your love and affection will calm him down, so why doesn’t it work the other way around?

-And sure, you may have autism, but so does he

-So why can he be the only “normal” one in the relationship?

[furorsopher]

intro post!! :D

hi, hello! :3 you can call me Furor/Furi or Elias/Eli, i go by any pronouns :D (you might see that change semi-regularly but they/them is always ok!!)

i’m from and live in central Europe and i‘m 17 years old, i speak german (austria)(C2), english (C1/2), a little bit of french (B1) and know some latin (4 years high school latin… idk how much that’s worth lmao)

content?! :O

current and long term interests are logged above in the short description!

my main focus is the american revolution and its “protagonists”, though i dabble in the occasional french revolution as well :)

you can expect ranting about history, ranting about art (history), ranting about writing, my own art and writing, and occasionally some PD & spirituality/religion stuff, and reposting a bunch of cool and funny stuff hehe

if you need something translated/explained german-english wise (historical documents, fan fiction, etc), pls ask me, i can help!!!! :D this also applies for any of your cultural inquiries regarding austria

disclaimer of sorts:

i have a (diagnosed) PD with dissociative traits. yeah i talk to myself on here, yeah there’s different names who have different personalities. don’t question it, actually :3

HAVE A GREAT DAYYYYY!!!! :D

see you around some time maybe :3

profile picture source

shit i think you’ll like:

feeling like shit? here’s a helpful flowchart

want to turn to any AI for therapy replacement? here’s a great list of resources further down

⤴️ favourite song rn hehe :)