#do it right this time or something but no! that's not how that works! obviously!

[lightseoul]

a/n. i really don't know where i'm going with this, y'all. but getting to role-play as a therapist and explore bakugou's psyche has been lots of fun, so bear with me. please let me know what you think and/or would want to see! maybe that'll give me an idea lol. (1.1k)

navigation. part 1, part 2, (you are here)

“n-no.”

at that, the woman’s eyebrows shoot up, disappearing underneath her fringe. “no?”

“you heard me,” bakugou spits instinctively, immediately regretting how hostile that sounded not even a second later. “i mean, no, i didn’t.”

his therapist, apparently unfazed by his show of aggression—she must’ve gotten used to it by now, although he still feels bad when he gets testy—only jots something down in her clipboard before looking back up at him, an inexplicable expression etched across her features.

“do you have any ideas, then, why, for the first time in seemingly forever, you’re fixating on a particular social encounter?”

bakugou barely manages to bite back a scowl.

he hates it—this part. the part where his psychologist obviously has theories as to why he’s acting a certain way or how he’s actually feeling but chooses to ask him instead, in an attempt to draw it out of him.

as if talking about difficult shit in the first place isn’t already painful enough.

and isn’t that what he’s paying her to do? give him answers? why’d he have to be the one to wrack his brain for uncomfortable answers to uncomfortable questions?

“do you?” he then challenges, emboldened by that train of thought just now.

“yes,” she responds truthfully and without missing a beat it somewhat surprises him. “but as i’ve explained to you before, i think it’ll be helpful for you if we try a more active approach on your end so that any insights gleaned from our discussions become more personalized and stick with you longer.”

well, then. fuck.

the lady’s got a point.

“so,” she continues when he doesn’t reply, annoyingly aware her little spiel got to him, “any ideas? working hypotheses?”

“uh,” he starts begrudgingly, eyes roving over the bookshelves lining the room’s walls as he struggles to come up with another angle. then it dawns on him, and he looks directly at the woman. “i didn’t expect to see someone in here, and when i did, it caught me off guard.”

“that may be because most of our clients opt for virtual consultations rather than face-to-face ones.”

“yeah,” he piles on quickly, admittedly thankful for the validation, and for the fact. the absolute last thing he needs is to bump into some extras before and after therapy. “that must be why.”

“but how does that explain your, and i quote, ‘dumb as shit reaction’?”

bakugou instantly feels himself flame. he clears his throat, “i told you, didn’t i? it caught me off guard. how the fuck did you expect me to react?”

that must’ve been a reasonable point, thank the fuck, because the woman pauses in thought before nodding slowly. “i suppose you’re right.”

he narrowly bites back an of course, i am.

but then she’s spouting off again.

“although it’s interesting to me how your immediate reaction was to say hi, when that’s not really…how should i say, your style, based on our prior sessions and your personality test results.”

a pause.

bakugou scrambles for a bulletproof rebuttal. he comes up short.

the lady cocks her head to the side, curious. “how often would you say you mull over social blunders?”

never, he thinks to himself. because they never happen.

“i figured as much,” comes her unexpected reply, and only then does it dawn on him that he said the last bit out loud.

“can we talk about something else?” he finds himself suddenly asking, totally over this entire conversation. he can worry about being a loser and pathetically begging for an out some other time. right now, he just needs a break.

“actually, you’re in luck,” she checks her smartwatch, “the session’s just about to end.”

at that, his shoulders almost instantly sag in relief, which makes the woman laugh. he shoots her a half-hearted glare.

they spend the next few minutes summarizing what has been discussed, as well as the arrangements for the following weeks, with bakugou eventually throwing his bag over his shoulders and bidding her a mumbled goodbye. he tosses her a nod over his shoulder as he crosses the threshold of her office, mind already drifting to what he’s going to cook himself for dinner.

and that, for a typical session, he’s walking out relatively unscathed.

but then he does the stupid thing of looking up from where he was studying his trainers when a door creaks open, and he freezes.

because standing a few feet away from him, right beside the entrance to the restroom, is you, equally frozen.

he doesn’t know how much time passes with him just staring at you like a motherfucking idiot, and you, strangely enough, peering at him back, but it’s you who eventually takes a hammer to the silence.

“h-hi,” you offer, voice soft and quiet, just like how he vaguely remembers it from two weeks ago.

“hey,” comes his gruff reply, which would’ve been immediately followed by a wince at how rough his tone was just now had he not stopped himself in the nick of time.

at least he didn’t stutter.

“…b-bakugou, right?” you ask after a moment of neither of you saying anything, confirming his earlier suspicions.

“right.”

you nod, a polite yet somehow stilted smile on your face, and suddenly he’s mentally slapping himself. since when was he fucking bound to one-word sentences?

he decides then and there that this shit won’t do.

in an attempt to convince himself that no, this is just a weird outlier of an encounter for him, and that no, he’s not a fucking idiot like dunce face, and that yes, he is and is being perfectly fucking normal, he resolves to ask you for your name.

and he was just about to do that—he swears he was—when someone from the other side of the door calls out a name, and you whip to face their direction, breaking eye contact.

“yes, doc!” you holler back, and he watches you as you hesitate in place for a second, before turning to face him with an awkward smile.

“nice meeting you, bakugou-san.”

and then you’re off and shutting the door behind you.

he stands there for what feels like a few minutes, just blinking at the door in front of him, what must be your name echoing—again and again—up to the far recesses of his mind.

then: fuck.

he may or may not have just lied to his therapist.

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!

tagging. @bunnysaursushii @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @elarakive @sugurusmoon @napbatata @k0z3me @h0ngh0ngh0ng @honeyoru @yoongiwithglasses @hellokitty-doll @lilsebnem @tetsuukuroo @crangrapel0ver @syrhra @qyuin | @kalulakunundrum @cheezemanz @gold24fish @lunaryasha

[gangstalkerbarbie]

In a number of societies in the past, there were jobs reserved for people with isolating conditions or people with disabilities — in some Arctic cultures shamans are born, not made, because shamanhood is one such job for people we would call schizophrenic, for example.

In pre-revolution Ukraine, blind men who needed to support families had a protected social role as a type of lorekeeper and bard, with claim to a circuit of villages to ply their trade in. They often took in orphans to lead them around, but only taught their art to the ones that could do that work according to the rules governing it and keeping it the welfare system that it was.

There's something kind of similar with witches across religions as a job, in the same cultural sphere, because witches and folk healers (there is overlap) were touched by the other side themselves (typically you would become something like a znakharka because you were let's say an orphan with severe trauma, or so obviously what we would call borderline that someone had to teach you to control it, and if you already know what those plants do why not learn more), and therefore qualified to help other people going through it.

People didn't always like or trust them, but they fed them and made sure they were safe anyways, because there was a niche reserved for people like that even though there was very little anyone knew how to do for them.

Entire social safety nets used to exist in a wide variety of diverse places that not only provided care for people who couldn't care for themselves in some ways, but set up systems that preserved their agency. I like that people are concerned on here for the mere level of caring about people currently ostracised and people whose disabilities make them hard to be around and people who cannot do most conventional work, but when thinking about people's welfare I think it's important to also think about ways they can be integrated in your society, in your life, next to you as other human beings, right now.

Because after they leave crisis mode, once their basic needs are met, all people want to give back. I think a lot of people get stuck on taking care of the psychologically ill and variously disabled, but there are going to be times when they don't need as much help as they do now, and what are they going to feel whole and competent doing then? What has been done to create an environment where they can gainfully be employed at skills they are good at, without being forced out of those professions because other people with less to worry about can meet demand faster?

In this essay I will prove that the modern equivalent of the kobzar is the furry artist

If safety in your ideal society is entirely based on care by networks of affinity, and does not provide care for people who are not liked by anybody, then your society is actually even worse than the situation we are in now.

Pissing off people close to you or over-exhausting your social network or isolating yourself is often an inherent part of many mental health problems, addictions, etc. By the time people need care the most, they have often lost all their networks of affinity, and with some bad luck, any of us could find ourselves in that situation.

There has to be unconditional care available for the more unlikable of us, or there isn't really a safety net for any of us.

[illbegottenfaith]

sweet?!

you may not be the one dating theodore nott but you'd be damned if you let anyone think of him as sweet (theo nott x reader)

Part 1 | Part 2

a/n - I meant to make a separate post a while back but college has been kicking my ass so 😭 but 300 followers!!! insaneee ily all sooo much mwah I feel so so grateful and also a little weirded out cuz wdym 300 people... (I am SO bad at these can you tell um anyways) also this was inspired by a new girl episode!! I kind of have plans for a part 3 but im still workshopping it so idk yet but !! we'll see :)

tropes/warnings - fluff, slight angst, mattheo not understanding physics (but its not like he had a formal education in the subject so is it rlly his fault??), tw descriptions of injury

word count - 1.5k

taglist - @hzdhrtss @justaproudperson @kandralice @clairesblouse @deenaaa

"You're still coming this afternoon, right?"

You were having lunch in the Great Hall with your best friend Ivy, hours before one of the most entertaining sporting events of the year - an underground Muggle sports day. Every year, a group of students from each house would compete in some arbitrarily chosen muggle sport, with varying levels of success. Casualties and knee-slapping memories (for those standing in the sidelines, such as yourself) were a guarantee.

You nodded. "Are you kidding? Watching the boys wack each other black and blue at some poor attempt at a muggle sport? I wouldn't miss it for the world. I hope it's hockey. It's got sticks, you know." You got an odd, dreamlike look in your eye. "Merlin, I hope it's hockey."

Ivy dug into her Shepherd's pie. "Good. It sounds interesting enough. Plus, Theo's new girlfriend will be there."

You nearly upset your pumpkin juice.

"Girlfriend? When did that happen?"

Something in your voice must have given your true feelings away from the way Ivy squinted at you suspiciously. You pulled a face. It seemed convincing enough.

"It's all very new," Ivy said a tad bit sternly. "They met at Davies' party a while back and, well, they fancied each other, so -"

You snorted.

"What, is he blackmailing her?"

Ivy frowned at you. "Don't snark," she rebuked. "It isn't nice. She's a regular daisy, you'll see."

Yeah. Sure. You piled some more mashed potatoes onto your plate.

"Has anyone checked her for brain damage? Look - I'm not even snarking, I'm genuinely concerned for her wellbeing - "

“I don’t understand how this is supposed to work,” Mattheo was saying as the two of you walked over the makeshift Muggle basketball court someone had fashioned out of one of the disused storerooms in the dungeons. He and the rest of the Slytherin boys were wearing matching fluorescent green mesh vests to distinguish themselves from the Gryffindor team, engaged in some deadly serious discussion. A part of you wondered if you should mention that muggle sports weren’t generally meant to be as fatal as Quidditch.

As usual, Theo looked bored to death by the conversation. "We've been over this a hundred times. You dribble the ball -"

"Yeah, right," Mattheo vehemently said. "Like this thing's coming up if I throw it down. What do you take me for, an idiot?"

Theo pinched the bridge of his nose, oddly reminscent of the way you did when you felt a migraine coming on.

"Remember the tennis ball, Matty? The fuzzy, green one?"

"That's different. That thing was tiny, and bouncy. This thing's heavy. It's the size of my head. No, a quaffle. No, a -"

"Then what do you think is going to happen?" Theo interrupted irritably.

“Stick to the ground, obviously. Watch - "

As seasoned as the lot of you had become in anticipating Mattheo's often highly dangerous impulses, this one came entirely out of left field. Theo yanked him back by his vest, but it was too late. He slammed the basketball down and it ricocheted back up almost immediately, punching him right in the nose. Mattheo swore loudly, and the last thing you saw before you looked away was an awful amount of blood.

Even after Enzo took him to the Hospital Wing, once Theo had sufficiently plugged his nose with obscene amounts of tissue, things did not improve for the team. About halfway through the game, an unfortunate scuffle between some of the players left Draco curled up in a ball, grimacing as he clutched his knee. Theo winced, running over to where Draco was doing a rather poor job of concealing his pain.

"Oh, that's so Teddy," Margaret gushed to you, "always stopping by to help anyone in need. Isn't he such a gentleman?"

You nodded stiffly, your slight smile frozen on your face, willing Ivy to hurry back with the snacks and drinks she had left for. After she had introduced the two of you to each other, you decided that Margaret was a perfectly pleasant person, even if she wasn't the type of friend you typically sought out. If anything, you were more confused than ever about what she was doing, hanging around a guy as bitter as Theo.

However, one thing that truly bothered you was the odd remark here or there that revealed her grossly inaccurate perceptions of him, such as this one. You thought back to just last week when you had tripped in front of him on one of the Shifting Staircases, your books tumbling down into the recesses of the stairwell. He had stopped by you, alright. Stopped to point and laugh, that is.

"Honestly, I couldn't have asked for a better boyfriend. He's really sweet," Margaret finished.

Your eyes nearly fell out of your head.

"Sweet?"

Just in time, Ivy hurried over, gently pulling you away with some half-hearted excuse.

"O-kay, I think that's enough bonding for today."

"Sweet," you echoed weakly as you limply allowed yourself to be carted away, the appalled expression still on your face. "She thinks he's sweet." Euch.

But Ivy wasn't paying attention to you anymore. "How bad is it?" she asked, as the two of you neared the cluster around Draco.

"Bad," Ivan replied, gingerly pressing Draco's knee. "He definitely needs to see Madam Pomfrey. No way he'll be able to play any more today, and we're out of reserves, so we're a man short." He turned, motioning to the Gryffindor players scattered across the field that the game was over.

"Damn. I'll take him to the hospital wing, I've been meaning to check on Mattheo too. Meg, you'll help me, won't you?"

With a little difficulty, the three of them limped along once they had pulled Draco's arms over their shoulders. One of the Gryffindor players approached the crowd, picking up on what was happening after a glance at Draco.

"What about the game?"

Theo rolled his eyes. "We'll rematch, you nitwit."

You went back to your seat, trying to figure out what to do with Ivy's refreshments. Once it was clear that the game was over, the last of the players and the scanty audience filtered out of the room.

"What gives?"

You pulled your gaze back to the lone Slytherin player left, in a blood-spotted mesh vest. Your least favourite player. You could slap that on a T-shirt - not that you wanted to cheer for him. Merlin, no. Cheer against him, maybe. You wouldn't wish it on your worst enemy - which, coincidentally, happened to be him. You momentarily abandoned your musings as you returned to the real world, noticing the expectant look on his face.

"Hm?"

Theo spread him arms out and shrugged in a helpless sort of manner.

"I don't get it, L/N. What do you want from me?

You stared at him blankly. "...what are you talking about?"

He scoffed half-heartedly, like he was too upset to put any real heat behind it.

"I have this amazing new girlfriend that everyone loves." He tossed the ball away with a defeated air. "Everyone, except you."

The words stung. You stuck your chin out defiantly.

"Why do you care so much about what I think?"

"Why can't you just be happy for me?

"I just want you to be honest."

Theo's eyebrows shot up. "Honesty? That's what this is about?"

That's what it had always been about, you wanted to say. You sniffed nonchalantly, rearranging the pleats of your skirt.

"I don't think it's fair to Margaret that you're selling her some lie just to -"

"You think I'm lying to her?"

He kept his voice cool, almost offensively neutral. You rolled your eyes. "I know you are."

Theo was quiet after that, as if mulling over what you had said.

"So," he pressed after a moment, slowly walking towards you, forcing you to crane your head up to maintain eye contact, "you think I should be more transparent with her. That is...show her my unpleasant side."

You allowed yourself a brief smile. "Exactly."

"Be more rude to her."

"Yeah."

"Mock her."

You furrowed your brow slightly.

"Erm, sure."

"Insult her."

"I - what?"

"In short," Theo continued, as if you hadn't spoken, "you want me to treat her like I do you."

He tilted his head.

"Why is that? Do you feel...betrothed to me? Or, perhaps, you consider me your boyfriend? Since we're being honest, and all."

In that moment, you decided you never hated Theo more than you did then, with his domineering stances, condescending sneers, and caustically sarcastic remarks. You swallowed hard, your throat almost painfully tight as you felt the traitorous prick of tears behind your eyes.

"Don't be ridiculous," you muttered. But he wasn't being entirely ridiculous, was he? It was what made the whole thing all that more upsetting.

If he noticed you were teary-eyed, he didn't comment on it, as if it were disappointing. As if you were yet another disappointment in his book of unfairly high expectations. He straightened with a barely convincing air of nonchalance. If anything, he looked just as upset as you felt.

"Whatever, L/N. See you around."

[hanniebaeee]

Clueless: Smitten

Jeongin x fem!reader

Warning: unhinged group chat as always, other than that, nothing!

Genre: friends to lovers, fluffffff

Summary: You and Jeongin go to the same MMA class, and he is absolutely smitten by you. And you two are good friends too. The problem? You treat him like a child, when all he wants is to ask you out. And that's where his unhinged gang enters.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Jeongin wiped the sweat off his brow, giving his opponent a nod after their sparring session, and turned around to see you pulling on your gloves. Your ponytail swayed as you hummed a tune to yourself, and Jeongin swallowed hard.

He did his best to control his impulses (such as the one he had right now to to come over and kiss the hell out of you).

But he was not weak (mostly). He was Yang Jeongin, the future ace of this gym and your soon-to-be love interest - if only he could figure out how to get you to stop patting his head like he's some cute puppy.

“Hey, Innie!” you called out, flashing him a smile that made his knees weak. “Good job!”

He smiled and thanked you, as you came over, and did that one thing that made him want to scream into oblivion. You ruffled his hair with that adoring smile on your face. And it made him feel like a toddler.

As soon as you were out of earshot, Jeongin let out a groan and grabbed his phone. He knew what this would lead to. Obviously. But he needed his brothers.

---

Jeongin: Ok. I'm gonna cry.

Chan: Aren't you at class??

Jeongin: She did it again.

Jeongin: She ruffled my hair. AGAIN.

Hyunjin: LOLLLLLLL

Jeongin: Shut up. I’m serious.

Felix: Omg. Is this the MMA girl?

Jeongin: YES. I can't understand why she treats me like a damn child.

Minho: Because you act like one?

Jeongin: YAH. I need a plan to make her see me as a MAN.

Jisung: Bro, just spar with her and like…accidentally tear your shirt or something. Girls love muscles.

Hyunjin: You do not have the muscles for that to work.

Jeongin: HYUNJIN.

Hyunjin: I’m just saying 🤷‍♂️

Felix: Invite her to dinner! Like, after practice? Nothing says “boyfriend material” like a home-cooked meal.

Seungmin: Cooking takes time. Which he doesn't have. He’s so obviously in the friend zone. He needs something that works fast.

Chan: You’re all missing the point here. Jeongin, be honest. Do you flirt with her?

Jeongin: I TRIED.

Jeongin: I told her she looked good in her gloves once. She said thanks and told me where to buy the same pair.

Minho: Wow. That’s rough.

Hyunjin: Okay, new idea.

Hyunjin: Go alpha on her. Next time you spar, pin her down. Like real close. Look her in the eyes and growl something like, “You’re not getting away from me this time.”

---

Jeongin rolled his eyes. Here we go.

---

Jeongin: That's crazy.

Jisung: No, wait, Hyunjin’s onto something. Girls LOVE dominance.

Chan: Or, you know, you could try talking to her like an adult.

Jeongin: I’m trying, hyung, but every time I look at her, my brain short-circuits.

Felix: Omg wait. This is perfect. You could do the classic “let me fix your form” move.

Felix: Stand behind her, adjust her stance, hands on her hips. It’s foolproof.

Seungmin: It’s not foolproof. He’ll trip over his words and fall on his face.

Jeongin: Oh my God.

Changbin: No, no, I’ve got it. Show up outside her place with some flowers and confess.

Hyunjin: Or better yet, let’s sign you up for a fight. Invite her to watch. Show her you’re tough.

Minho: He’ll get punched once and she’ll call an ambulance.

Jeongin: WHY DO I EVEN ASK YOU PEOPLE.

The next morning, Jeongin walked into the gym with a nervous buzz, the ideas his brothers had fired at him the night before poking at his brain.

Jisung: Bro. Let me paint you a picture.

Jisung: You’re sparring. She throws a punch. You dodge.

Jisung: Grab her wrist, pull her in close, whisper, “Is that all you’ve got?” Then SMIRK.

Jeongin: Why would I smirk???

Jisung: Because it’s HOT.

Minho: Creepy. Definitely creepy.

Hyunjin: No, he needs to go bolder.

Hyunjin: After sparring, pin her against the wall in the locker room. Close the space, and say, “You drive me insane, you know that?”

Chan: Please do NOT harass her in the locker room.

Felix: Yeah, don’t listen to Hyunjin. What you should do is compliment her strength. Like, “Wow, you’re so strong and gorgeous.”

Seungmin: That’s so cringey. She’ll laugh in his face.

Felix: Okay, why don't you come up with some genius ideas then?!

Changbin: No, listen to me. Women love confidence. Next time you walk in, wink at her. Just a subtle one. She’ll notice.

Jeongin: If I wink at her, she’ll think I have something in my eye.

Jisung: Then STARE at her. Give her those bedroom eyes.

Jeongin: I don’t even know what that means.

Hyunjin: Oh my god. This is so easy. After practice, challenge her to a one-on-one sparring match. Get sweaty. Let her feel your power. And if you win, you say, “Winner gets a kiss.”

Chan: She’ll knock him out first.

Minho: Honestly, I’d pay to see that.

Jeongin: I will block you all.

Hyunjin: NO YOU WON’T. You love us.

---

Jeongin was standing in the gym’s parking lot after his class, trying to call Chan to come pick him up, when he saw you approaching him. You were smiling, your bag on your shoulder, your hair, that's usually in a ponytail, now left open.

“Hey, Jeongin,” you said, your voice light and teasing as usual. “Nice work today. You’re really improving.”

He stuttered a thank you, and smiled at you nervously, his cheeks heating up.

And then it happened.

You reached out, ruffled his hair affectionately, and grinned. “Such a good boy.”

Jeongin froze. His brain short-circuited. Good boy?!

He could literally hear his brothers screaming in his head.

“Say something,” Minho’s voice mocked.

“Pin her!” Hyunjin roared.

“WINK, YOU COWARD!” Jisung howled.

Instead, Jeongin stood there like a statue.

“Innie?” you tilted your head, eyes soft with concern. “You okay?”

That snapped him out of it.

“Y-yeah! Totally fine!” He cleared his throat. This was it. This was his chance to say something smooth.

“Uh…you’re…really so strong and…so gorgeous?”

The moment the words left his mouth, he wanted to die.

You blinked at him. And then, to his utter shock, you laughed - a bright, genuine laugh that made his heart do a somersault.

“Well, thanks, Innie. You’re not so bad yourself.”

As you waved goodbye and walked off, Jeongin leaned against a car, face in his hands.

---

Jeongin: I HATE YOU ALL.

Chan: Ok calm down. What happened?

Jeongin: I TRIED FELIX’S LINE.

Jeongin: SHE LAUGHED AT ME.

Felix: Wait, was it a good laugh or a bad laugh?

Jeongin: HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW?!

Hyunjin: LOL

Changbin: Did you at least wink?

Jeongin: NO.

Jisung: Bro. Amateur move.

Seungmin: Probably should’ve gone with the “winner gets a kiss” idea.

Jeongin: I’M NOT DOING THAT.

Minho: You’re hopeless.

Chan: Guys, come on. Jeongin, did she seem like she was into it?

Jeongin: She called me a ‘good boy’.

Hyunjin: RIP.

Felix: Don’t give up! She laughed. That’s good!

Minho: Yeah, she’s laughing because she thinks he’s a puppy.

Felix: Puppies can grow into wolves, bro.

Jeongin: You’re all insane.

Changbin: Hey, wolves mate for life. Just saying.

Jeongin groaned, shutting his phone. If this was the kind of help he was getting, he might as well wing it.

Jeongin lay sprawled on his bed, phone in hand, mind racing with thoughts of you. He had officially entered what Jisung would call his ‘simp phase’. Your Instagram page was open, each photo worse than the last - worse because it made him fall harder.

There was one of you holding a tray of cookies, grinning. Another of you proudly presenting a painting up to the camera. The cat one nearly killed him - you were snuggled up with your orange tabby, its paw on your nose as you laughed.

And there was one with the MMA team - you had your arm looped with his in this one, your head tilted slightly towards him. It was a group photo, but that's all he could see. the two of you.

“I love her,” he whispered to himself, then immediately groaned into his pillow. “Oh my god, I love her!!”

---

Jeongin: Guys.

Jeongin: I’m in love with her.

Chan: We know.

Hyunjin: Wait, did you just figure that out?

Jeongin: No, but it’s hitting me all over again. I’m looking at her Instagram.

Jisung: Omg, show us.

Jeongin: No way.

Minho: Wow. Stalking her Insta and gatekeeping? Bold of you.

Jeongin: Shut up. She’s perfect. She bakes. She paints. She loves cats.

Minho: Cats? Suddenly she's a lot more interesting.

Jisung: Innie, DM her something flirty.

Jeongin: That’s so cringey I might die.

Chan: You guys are going to ruin his life.

Hyunjin: He needs to grow a spine. Just do it, Jeongin. Be bold.

Felix: OR…

Felix: Next time she posts something cute, comment something sweet. Like, “You’re so talented.” Compliment her! Girls love compliments.

Seungmin: That’s decent advice.

Jeongin: I can’t do that. She’ll think I’m obsessed.

Minho: You are obsessed.

Jisung: Or… Post a thirst trap. Let her know you’re hot too.

Jeongin: A thirst trap?! Like what?

Jisung: I dunno. Shirtless mirror selfie? Women eat that up.

Changbin: You don’t have enough abs for that.

Jeongin: I DO! STOP ATTACKING ME.

---

The boys were no help, as usual. Jeongin flopped onto his back, staring at the ceiling. He was doomed.

But then, as he refreshed your page, he saw it - a new post.

It was you and your cat again, this time with a caption that read: "My goodest boy 🐾."

Jeongin stared at it. Good boy. Again. The word that haunted his every waking moment. And yet, when you used it like this, he kind of wanted to melt.

He felt his thumb hovering over the like button. His mind raced.

“Cute cat!” No, too boring.

“You’re adorable.” No, too forward.

“Can I be your good boy?” Oh god, Hyunjin was invading his thoughts.

He slapped his phone face-down on the bed.

He couldn’t DM you. He couldn’t comment. What he needed was a real plan to show you he wasn’t just the kid you patted on the head.

---

Hyunjin: New plan. Jeongin, buy her flowers. Deliver them to her home.

Jeongin: That’s not the worst idea.

Jisung: But make it sexy. Like, walk in all sexy and say, “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, so I had to bring you these.”

Jeongin: YOU WANT ME TO DIE.

Felix: Wait! What if you bake her something? She likes baking, right? It’s cute and romantic.

Jeongin: I don’t know how to bake.

Chan: That’s what YouTube is for.

Minho: Or Felix can bake and you can pretend you made it.

Changbin: No way, she’d see through that in a second. She’s too smart for Jeongin’s terrible acting.

Hyunjin: He could dedicate a fight to her.

Hyunjin: Win a match and shout, “That was for you, baby!” She’ll love it.

Seungmin: Or hate it.

Jeongin: WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS.

Chan: Please don’t listen to him.

Jeongin: Oh my god, my life 😩

Felix: 😅😅😅

Hyunjin: Look, Jeongin, at the end of the day, just be confident. If you act like a man, she’ll treat you like one.

Jeongin: Easy for you to say. You’re not in love with her.

---

Jeongin tossed his phone aside, heart pounding. He didn’t know what his next move would be, but one thing was certain: he was in too deep to back out now.

The gym that usually buzzed with activity was so quiet now. Jeongin stood across from you in the sparring ring, his gloves up, his nerves barely contained. He couldn’t believe he’d agreed to this.

Sparring with you? His brain was already a mess when you just existed near him. But now, you were in front of him, bouncing lightly on your feet, your focused expression somehow making you look even more stunning.

“Ready, champ?” you teased, your grin playful as you adjusted your gloves.

Jeongin swallowed hard, trying to focus. “Yeah. Ready.”

With a wink, you moved quickly as you circled him. Jeongin mirrored you, trying to keep his stance solid.

It was going fine. Really good actually. You were good with your arms, and he tried to return the pressure, throwing a one-two combo at you. You dodged effortlessly, and then out of nowhere, you hooked your leg behind his, pivoting your hips to execute a perfectly timed trip.

Jeongin yelped as his balance gave out, and suddenly he was on the mat, his back hitting the ground with a loud thud.

“Nice match,” you said, already kneeling over him, one hand braced on the mat beside his head. You leaned over slightly, your face hovering above his. “You okay?”

Jeongin glitched in real time.

It was all too much - your bright eyes, your playful smile, the way a few strands of your hair stuck to your forehead, glistening with sweat. He could feel the heat radiating off your body, and the concern in your voice made his heart stutter.

“I…uh…yeah,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.

You tilted your head and asked, “You sure? I hope nothing hurts?”

“Pretty sure I’m dying,” he muttered, half under his breath, closing his eyes and exhaling loudly.

“What was that?”

“Nothing!” he squeaked, his face burning red.

You laughed softly, leaning back to give him space and extending your hand to help him sit up.

“You did well, Innie. Just gotta work on your balance.”

“Yeah,” he said dumbly, staring up at you like you’d hung the stars in the sky.

You tapped his cheek lightly with your gloved hand. “C’mon, champ. Let’s get you up.”

---

Jeongin: I’m never sparring with her again. Ever.

Hyunjin: What happened?

Jisung: Spill.

Jeongin: She KNOCKED ME DOWN.

Felix: Oh nooooo.

Jeongin: And instead of just walking away and letting me die with dignity, she kneels over me.

Hyunjin: Oh, that sounds spicy.

Jeongin: SPICY?! IT WASN’T SPICY. IT WAS HUMILIATING. She hovered over me with her PERFECT FACE and eyelashes and asked if I was okay. Like I’m some helpless little kitten she rescued from a tree.

Felix: Awwww. That’s so cute!

Jeongin: IT’S NOT CUTE, FELIX. IT’S A CRIME AGAINST MY MASCULINITY.

Seungmin: What masculinity?

Jeongin: SEUNGMIN, I SWEAR.

Minho: You’re spiraling again.

Jeongin: I could smell her shampoo. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?

Hyunjin: Uh huh

Felix: She thinks you’re cute AND talented.

Jeongin: I WANT HER TO THINK I’M HOT.

Minho: Maybe try not to land on your ass next time.

Jeongin: Wow, great advice, hyung. I feel so much better.

Hyunjin: Bro. She’s into you.

Jeongin: SHE IS NOT.

Changbin: I mean… isn’t that kind of symbolic? Like, you’re already floored by her?

---

If the locker room was soundproof, Jeongin would've screamed so loud.

---

Jisung: Okay, okay, so she thinks you’re adorable. And a child.

Jisung: But if only she knew that you're basically ready to give her a child

Felix: OMG. Jisung, no.

Jeongin: WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT?!

Jisung: Am I wrong? Didn’t you literally say the other day, you'd do anything for her, even give her your last name and your firstborn child?

Jeongin: THAT WAS A PRIVATE THOUGHT, YOU GREMLIN.

Chan: What the actual fuck is going on in here?

Jisung: Oh, perfect timing, Chan-hyung! Any tips on the said topic? Since you've already done it.

Chan: Jisung. Please.

Felix: 🤣🤣🤣🤣

Hyunjin: This is so out of control, and for once it's not me 🤣

Jeongin: EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU IS THE WORST.

Chan: Jeongin. Does she actually think you’re a child, or are you projecting because you’re too scared to confess?

Jeongin: I don’t know.

Changbin: Oh, he knows.

Minho: 100% projecting.

Jeongin: I somehow feel like every time she looks at me she sees a ‘cute little brother type’

Hyunjin: Then you need to show her you’re not a little brother type.

Felix: Exactly! Be confident. Flirt back. Stop acting like she’s going to break you.

Jeongin: She already DOES break me!

Hyunjin: BRO. MAN UP. Or I swear I’ll walk up to her and tell her everything.

Jeongin: IF YOU DO THAT, I WILL END YOU.

Chan: Okay, enough. Stop overthinking it. Just talk to her, show her your genuine self.

Jeongin: But what if I mess up again?

Seungmin: You’ve been messing up this whole time, and she still likes you. You’re fine.

Hyunjin: True. She probably thinks your flustered baby deer energy is charming.

Jeongin: Oh my God

Jeongin thought he could pull it off. He thought he could just quietly distance himself from you without anyone noticing. After all, it was for the greater good. If he didn’t interact with you, maybe he could convince himself he didn’t feel anything.

But it didn’t take long for the cracks to show.

He started avoiding eye contact at the gym. No more conversations after practice. He skipped group water breaks and focused on solo drills. He even fled the gym the minute his class was done.

And you noticed. Of course you did.

Because he was literally the highlight of your day. Jeongin was a clueless idiot, because he definitely couldn't see how much you adored him, and this distance was getting to you.

---

You leaned against the wall, arms crossed as you watched Jeongin avoid your gaze for the fifth time that day. Normally, he’d flash you his shy smile or wave when you caught him looking. Now? He was all formal, barely sparing you a glance.

Something was definitely up. You waited patiently for him to come to the locker room. And of course he took the long route just to drag it out.

You huffed in annoyance before calling out, “Jeongin!”

He froze, his water bottle hovering close to his lips as he turned toward you like a deer caught in headlights.

“Oh. Uh, hey, Y/N.”

You tilted your head, scrutinizing him as you asked, “Are you okay? You’ve been weird lately.”

“Weird?” he laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “No, I’m just… focused on training. That’s all.”

“Focused on training?” You raised an eyebrow. “Ok, so ignoring me is part of that?”

“No! I am not-” His ears turned red as he shook his head no.

You stepped closer, lowering your voice and asked, “Did I do something? Are you upset about the spar-”

“No!” he interrupted, eyes wide. “It’s not you. It’s me.”

You blinked. He did not just say that.

“Did you just hit me with the breakup line?”

Jeongin looked like he wanted to crawl under the mat.

“I…uh…I have to go.” He practically sprinted to the locker room, leaving you standing there, more confused than ever.

---

Jeongin: Guys. I fucked up.

Felix: WHAT DID YOU DO.

Jeongin: She asked if she upset me, and I panicked.

Hyunjin: Wait.

Hyunjin: You did not tell her it’s not her, it’s you.

Jeongin: HOW DO YOU EVEN KNOW THAT.

Changbin: OH MY GOD.

Jisung: LMAO. DID YOU REALLY?

Jeongin: I panicked!

Minho: This is officially the funniest thing you’ve ever done.

Chan: Okay, let’s not bully him.

Chan: Jeongin, why are you avoiding her?

Jeongin: Because I don’t want to make things worse. She already treats me like a kid. If I keep acting like an idiot around her, she’s never going to take me seriously.

Seungmin: Avoiding her isn’t going to make her take you seriously either. It’s just going to make her think you’re mad at her.

Jeongin: But what if I do something stupid?

Hyunjin: Bro. You already did the stupid thing. The bar’s on the floor.

Felix: Seriously, just TALK to her.

Jeongin: You say that like it’s easy.

Jisung: Because it is easy. Walk up to her, say, “I think you’re amazing and also I have a huge crush on you. Wanna kiss?” Done.

Jeongin: I’d rather eat a dumbbell.

Minho: Please do.

Felix: Okay, but seriously, Jeongin, if you don’t fix this, she’s going to think you hate her.

Chan: And it's gonna hurt you more than it hurts her. Or whatever.

Jeongin: Fine. I’ll talk to her. But if I embarrass myself, I’m never speaking to any of you again.

Minho: Can’t wait.

---

The next day, you were warming up when Jeongin approached you hesitantly. You glanced up, surprised.

“Oh, look who finally decided to stop ghosting me.” you said, and it broke his heart to see that you weren't giving him your usual smile.

He winced as he said, “I wasn’t ghosting you.”

“Sure felt like it.” You said, crossing your arms. “So what’s going on? And don’t give me the ‘training focus’ excuse again.”

Jeongin sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve been… overthinking some stuff.”

“Stuff?” You tilted your head, waiting for him to elaborate.

“You,” he blurted out, then immediately regretted it.

“Me?”

“Yes. I mean -” He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “Look, Y/N. You’re amazing, okay? You’re smart and funny and strong, and you make me feel like an idiot half the time because I don’t know how to act normal around you.”

You blinked, taken aback. “Jeongin -”

“I like you,” he interrupted, words tumbling out in a rush. “A lot. And I know you probably think I’m just some kid, but I’ve been trying so hard to prove I’m not. And it’s probably really obvious now, and I’m sorry if I’ve been weird or -”

“Jeongin.” You stepped closer, cutting him off.

“Sorry.” He looked at you, panic written all over his face.

But you smiled, your heart softening. He was so damn adorable, you wanted to bite him. To say the least.

“You don’t have to prove anything. I never thought of you as just some kid.”

“You didn’t?”

“No. And for the record…” You reached out, ruffling his hair with a grin. “I like you too, Innie.”

Jeongin covered his face with his hands, whining, but he couldn’t stop the huge grin that spread across his face.

"C'mere you," you said, and Jeongin surged into your arms, letting you hug him tight.

---

Jeongin: SHE LIKES ME BACK. OMG. I'M HYPERVENTILATING.

Hyunjin: NO WAY.

Felix: OMG!!! YESS!!!

Jisung: What did you say? How did it happen? Give us details!

Jeongin: I just told her I like her. She said she likes me too.

Chan: See? Told you honesty works.

Hyunjin: So when’s the wedding?

Minho: Well, that's what you get for being such a good boy.

Jeongin: OH MY GOD.

Seungmin: Congrats bro

Changbin: Go celebrate. Go get outta here!

Divider: @saradika-graphics

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun @chancloud8 @captainchrisstan

[miley1442111]

videos and violence- a.hotchner

summary: an unsub capturing you makes for a pretty interesting love confession

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!fem! reader

warnings: mention of reader being hurt, violence, mental, physical, emotional abuse, regular criminal minds topics (i think that's it? PLEASE TELL ME IF I MISSED SOMETHING)

not entirely proofread

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

You knew you had to take in your surroundings, try to remember what had happened before, think. 

All you knew was that one moment, you were on your way home from work, and the next you had a bruising grip on the back of your head, leading you through the hallways of this dusty, dark, shithole. 

Suddenly, he stopped. He was a man, obviously, 5’7ish, buff build, dark clothing that doesn’t fit him correctly, strong, shoes a size too big, and a balaclava. “Get in there, bitch.” American accent, deep voice, but definitely grew up in Washington. There was a chance you were still in Washington.

He shoved you down the stairs, into a basement. When you came to, your head was bleeding and you’d definitely broken a few ribs. You just hoped that Aaron would find you. You tended to your wound as best you could and allowed yourself to rest, knowing more would be to come. You had to figure out why he wanted you. Was it because he knew you worked for the FBI, or were you just the closest woman to him? 

The ground was cold and hard, but it would do for one night. You hoped this would be one night. You hoped the team could solve it. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

“Where’s Agent Y/l/n?” Morgan asked, sitting beside Spencer in the briefing room. 

“Late,” Rossi grunted. 

“She’s never late,” Penelope argued. “She’s never been late a day in her life and she didn’t answer any of my phone calls this morning.”

Aaron Hotchner, your secure, steady, collected, and calm boss, began to sweat a little. The same thing had happened to him, you weren’t answering his calls, there was no ‘I got home safe’ text, and you didn’t answer your door when he knocked on it that morning. 

“I’m sure she’s just sick,” Rossi shot back, trying to put Penelope at ease. “She’s a big girl, you don’t need to baby her.” 

Aaron didn’t miss the way Rossi looked at him during that last part. He wasn’t babying you, he’d never do that. He wanted to protect you, keep you safe, make sure he got to see that beautiful smile everyday. 

“We have a case,” Aaron announced. “Right here in Washington.”

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

No matter how loud you screamed, he didn’t stop. He kept hitting, and punching, and hurting. By the time you walked back down to your basement, you were exhausted, bruised, and scared. You were slightly losing hope that Aaron and the team were going to find you, because he was ramping up his activity. He was more violent, more attentive to you, watched you more, got closer, stayed closer. And he wasn’t feeding you. He had no intention of keeping you alive. But he was filming you. You’d noticed the hundreds of cameras all over the room, all pointing to you. 

“What do you do for work?” he asked from the darkness of the top of the stairs. 

“Paperwork,” you lied. “FBI paperwork.”

“You work for the Federal Bureau of Investigations?” he asked.

You nodded. “It’s boring.”

“How much do you make?” 

“About 90 grand a year,” you offered. “What about you? What do you do?”

“I’m a baker,” he answered. “I work in the cafe on 14th street.”

“I like that place,” you chuckled painfully. “Makes good bread. My boyfriend loves it.”

“You have a boyfriend?” he asked. 

“Yeah, but he’s out of state at the minute. Work stuff,” you lied. “What about you?”

“A girlfriend? No, no,” he chuckled, rubbing his hands together. It’s like he watched a movie to find out how to be a villain, I mean, come on. “No one for me.”

“What’s your boyfriend's name?” he asked. 

Well, now or never. “Aaron Hotch,” you answered calmly. 

“And what is it that you love about Aaron?”

You could feel yourself tearing up, you knew he was about to take you for another torture session, and you didn’t know if it would be your last. There was a slim chance Aaron would see this, if he ever caught the guy. Now or never. “I love Aaron because he makes me feel safe. He smiles at me all the time which is nice because he doesn’t smile often. He knows everything about me, and he’s still here. He’s the sweetest person I’ve ever met, even though he puts on a brave face everyday. He cares deeply about the people around him, and he tries to hide the way he worries about people, but he can’t. He just cares too much. He’s wonderful, if I’m being honest. He always brings me home stuff from your bakery, the one on 14 the street, it’s our favourite date night tradition.” 

“Good, very good. I know exactly who you’re talking about,” he smirked. “I’ll make sure he gets this, and the videos of the torture.”

You grimaced. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

“He takes women of all races, hair colours, eye colour, etc. He doesn’t keep them for more than three days, he videos the torture and sends it to us. He’s had three women so far-” Morgan thought out loud. 

“A new video just came in Hotch,” Penelope burst into the room, tears in her eyes. “I-It’s-”

“No!” Morgan and Spencer both jumped up, disbelief coating their features. Aaron stayed still, a wash of rage and terror rolling over him. You’d been gone for two days, they had one more to find you. 

“Give me the laptop, the rest of you don’t need to see this,” he ordered, taking the laptop out of her hands as she ran straight to Morgan for comfort. Rossi stopped him before he left. 

“You sure you want to see this? We all know how you feel about her,” Rossi whispered, silently offering himself to watch the videos. 

“I have to find her,” Aaron whispered, his voice breaking. “I need every angle I can get.”

Rossi nodded, allowing him on his way.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

You’d survived another day, but the broken bones and bruises were starting to ache more and more. He’d gone to work, and you had 8 hours to try and get out, but the cameras. You just hoped he’d gotten cocky and sent it to the FBI before you were dead. It was your only chance. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

“We have a lead,” Aaron announced, rushing to put his coat on. “The bakery, on 14th, that’s where he works.”

“Let’s move out people!” Morgan shouting, rallying the cops to follow the team. 

The video of you, broken, bruised, and battered made him feel physically sick. The way you spoke about him made his heart burst, the way you gave him the message gave him hope. He could still find you. 

The car ride felt long, too long; and getting the dick to confess felt too long too. Searching the building felt too long, and getting you into his arms felt too long. 

But when he rounded a corner and went down a set of stairs, there you were. Right in front of him. Lying in a heap on the floor. He rushed to your side. “Please, please,” he begged. “Open your eyes for me baby,” he pleaded as he looked for a pulse, it was faint but there. “Ambulance, now!” he shouted up at the officers who were following him. “Come on, open your eyes for me,” he whispered. 

Somehow his shaking and his words woke you up. You stared at him for a moment, confused and scared, and then it registered. He’d found you. The video had worked. 

“Aaron,” you whispered, reaching out to touch his face. “You found me.” 

He nodded, a relieved smile on his face. “I’ll always find you,” he promised. “And I’ll never let this happen again.”

“You saw the video?” you asked, pulling yourself into his arms. 

“I saw the video sweetheart,” he nodded. “I know.”

“I love you,” you whispered as he hooked a hand under your legs and another under your back. 

“I love you too, more than anything,” he whispered back, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

[esotericbluntbaby]

HIIIII i love your writing style so bad, i came on here to request something and then i see you doubt your own writing which is crazy cuz they're all good!!! can i request hamzah and reader in something worse than a situationship so she brings out like someone attractive along at a party or something (it could literally be a gay man that offered to help her idk) to see if it'd make him jealous and it actually does. IM SORRY if you get too mant jealous hamzah requests but i just yearn for him, PLS have angst in the beginning 😭😭🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼.

worsened aches

hamzahthefantastic x reader

description: though toxic and envious, you realize that your situationship had to have gone through the worst in order to better itself for the sake of you and hamzah.

mentions: angst (expect it at this point), yearning, posessiveness, toxicity in a situationship out of confusion, she/her pronouns, both hamzah and reader are equally mean to each other so hopefully it cancels out, a guy making you uncomfortable and grabbing your hand, a fight scene, happy ending, sfw for the most part

listen to partynextdoor while you're reading lol. specifically make it to the morning or resentment but honestly any will do <3

--

"you're literally fucking crazy- what are you talking about?"

you and hamzah were currently going at it like two players on rival teams. though your relationship, or lack there of, was toxic and overly complicated, you both stayed in the same rooms you fought in because of the loneliness that consumed the both of you. obviously, arguing wasn't fun, nor was it ethical for the sake of your mental health, yet, bickering with someone else was somehow better than spending your nights alone and depressed.

you met hamzah because of how loud he was. you were, and still are, his neighbor who moved in a couple months ago. getting annoyed of the lack of sleep, you decided to march over to his apartment in the same manner that the guardsmen stomp in front of the royal palace; they had the queen to defend, while you had your sanity to fight for. over time, the friendship and simultaneous rivalry stemmed from that night and bloomed into the situationship you have right now.

you and hamzah technically aren't anything; technically, you and hamzah are nothing more than just friends who occasionally act coupley to fill the voids that call you to jump out of windows and balconies. you both were lonely, creating a seemingly win-win situation. he comes over whenever he needs someone to cuddle at night, or more than cuddle, and vice versa. it's been a system that's worked out for about eight-ish months now.

as all situationships do, it was bound to crash and tumble like hurricanes over the ocean. over time, the lack of a label caused more problems than einstein could sold. neither of you had a complete understanding of the boundaries you each wanted, nor did either of you want to risk creating a more serious problem than what it seemed to be by talking about it. so, over time, resentment built itself up within the foundations of the connection between the both of you as communication began to settle in the roots of the ground it was built on.

the night started alright; it was simple making out, occasional pecks on the cheeks and forehead, and constant physical touch. he even bought you food and fed it to you while you two sat on the couch and watched comfort movies. your presence was enjoyed as much as his was. it was normal that whenever hamzah was over, you'd completely lose sight of the bad parts of the connection you have after any part of him would touch you. however, the mood quickly changed when hamzah answered the call of another girl while on your couch. watching his smile expand at her words as you were cuddled up right beside him caused a pit to grow within your chest. it felt wrong. technically, given that you two were friends, it wasn't; however, the fact that he was all over you two seconds before you both heard the ringtone was, in fact, wrong. you moved away, distancing mountains and seas between you two on his couch, as eventually the call became silent and he hung up. you wouldn't speak to him. growing annoyed, he forced you to speak, to which you called him an asshole for "damn near flirting with a girl in front of you." thus, his gaslighting begun.

"hamzah, what do you mean, 'what's wrong with me?' what's wrong with you?"

he scoffed, "fucking nothing. nothing even happened- i have no clue what you're talking about. why are you making something out of nothing?"

"that's so fucking mature. you told me to talk, didn't you? or did i just make something out of nothing again?"

"oh my god, that's not what i meant- dude, why are you even mad? it's not like i did anything."

you raised your eyebrows, "my head was literally on your lap while you were flirting with her."

he slowly emphasized his words, "i wasn't even flirting with her."

"you made your voice deep like you were fuckin' neil degrasse tyson, are you joking? and what the hell was she saying that was making you laugh that hard?"

he put his hands up in defense, "it's not a big deal. so what if jess called me and i laughed when she told me a fuckin joke? it's not that deep."

your body felt like it was rising in temperature, "you're actually such a liar- we both know that it was that deep, bro. that's literally how you laugh with me."

"why does it matter if that's how i laugh with you?" he made a noise between a laugh and scoff and looked back at the television, "it's not like we're dating."

he was right. you weren't dating, so you can't be upset. you knew you mostly wanted that reassurance that he wouldn't find someone else while messing with you on the side, though you assumed that hamzah wasn't like that. you've had the run down of a bad dating history and horrible ex's and, yeah, hamzah was kind of bad. however, hamzah was bad in a way where at least it was to your face, unlike the infidelity and lies in your past relationships. unlike them, the worst that hamzah would do was get defensive over an argument or say something that was a little too mean on accident because he was genuinely just speaking his mind. honestly, the touch and treatment he gave you during the times you weren't bitchy towards each other evened out the slight toxicity; actually, even surpassing it. however, this was too far. this was a lie and you knew it. it was a lie that he specifically told to hurt you on purpose.

sure, maybe you could've gone a different direction with confronting him and maybe you were too aggressive with your accusations; but at the same time, you were also hurt that he would do that in front of you, as your head rested a couple of inches away from his heartbeat. the intimacy of the setting the both of you were in was overtaken by a green bogeyman; envy in its personified form.

the room fell silent as he kept on watching the movie. he only looked at you when you sniffled from tearing up so much. you guys have argued in the past, but never have you cried in front of him; this was vulnerability that you allowed to seep through you like sunlight seeps through the roots of a plant.

his attention was now fully on you, "are you crying?"

"hamzah, i want you to get out of my place."

"wait-"

you stood up and began to walk through the door, "let yourself out the door and don't come back. i'm done."

--

three weeks without him had passed and you were an emotional wreck; a wreck that was so bad that other cars on the road had to stop to see it for themselves. throughout the stages of grief, you were currently on the acceptance stage. you hadn't left you apartment ever since that night out of fear that he'd be leaving his, next door. a couple of times, you heard the knock that you two made for each other to signify that it was the other person at the door. with each knuckle to the wood, a pang in your heart thumped harder and with more rigor. luckily, it only lasted a total of a week before he stopped coming over.

since any romantic encounter or even simple things around your house reminded you of the man next door, you were going to continue to rot in bed whilst watching horror movies. however, the plan was quickly changed when rey, the gay man you met at a club a couple of months ago, decided to text you.

rey :p

5:42 pm | hey boo

5:42 pm | i haven't talked to you in forever

5:42 pm | how r u?

you

5:43 pm | im horrible

5:43 pm | u rmbr the guy i used to talk to u about

rey :p

5:44 pm | the one that was ur bf but also not ur bf?

5:44 pm | like the one that u showed me a pic of and i said he had the same eyes as central cee

you

5:44 pm | yeah

rey :p

5:44 pm | what'd the bitch do

you

5:45 pm | he was genuinely being an asshole

5:45 pm | he literally picked up the phone right

rey :p

5:45 pm | mhmmm

you

5:46 pm | it was a girl

5:46 pm | i was laying my head down on his lap

5:46 pm | and i guess she was the funniest person in the world or smth bc he was laughing his ass off like a fucking idiot

rey :p

5:46 pm | bro hell no

5:46 pm | r u serious

5:47 pm | r u okay

you

5:47 pm | bedrotting lowk lol

5:47 pm | haven't gotten out of my bed in like a full three days

5:48 pm | idk i guess i js miss him

rey :p

5:48 pm | it's reasonable

5:48 pm | im going to a party tn

5:48 pm | come with meeeeee

5:48 pm | maybe u just need a distraction

you

5:49 pm | idk rey

rey :p

5:50 pm | go get dressed and pls shower dont be stinky

5:50 pm | ill pick u up at like uhhhh 8ish

you

5:50 pm | fine

--

you were two drinks down when rey was only tipsy from one drink. being the designated driver, he didn't want to overdo it; yet, he reassured you that he'd take care of you throughout the night. you were simply enjoying his presence; however, given that it was his friends' party that he was going to, occasionally you were left by yourself leaning on walls or sitting on couches and getting up when a couple started to make out on the leather right next to you. after a while, you began to regret going; the more you were alone, the more you thought about how hamzah would be towering over you like some sort of bodyguard in order to make sure that nobody spiked your drink.

as you were zoned out and thinking about him once again, you suddenly came into focus when rey went up to you and gave you a side hug. confused, your eyebrows furrowed as you looked up at him.

"are you thinking about him again?" rey asked, taking another sip of his seltzer.

you sighed, "is it that obvious?"

"if you wanna go home, i can take you. i'm sorry if i pushed you too hard to go out- i just didn't want you to stay home crying over some boy."

"no, yea, i get it. thank you, really, maybe i just needed to go outside. are you ready to go home?"

"i was just gonna drop you off and come back."

you didn't want to seem like a burden; rey was only trying to help you with coping. to have to drive a whole thirty minutes just to drop you off and come back seemed like too much to ask for; after everything that happened with hamzah when it came to begging for communication and reassurance, you hated seeming like you had too much to ask for. so, you took a deep breath and began to brave the waters even more; this was new territory for you that you were now forcing yourself to become familiar with for the rest of the night.

"no, it's okay. i'll stay- i kinda don't wanna be alone," you half-lied.

he put his hand on your shoulder reassuringly, "are you sure?"

"yeah," you sipped the vodka cranberry out of your red solo cup, "i'm sure.

"well," he began to give you a hug with his back facing the front entrance, "if you do wanna leave, tell me."

you hugged him back, "i will. thanks, rey."

unwrapping his arms from you, he walked in the direction of the party as you still stood near the entrance. however, you soon realized that his body was blocking the very sight you tried your best to avoid; hamzah was standing right in front of the doorway, dressed in one of the outfits that made you weak. standing with his friends, his hard expression fixated on you as he realized that some other guy was on you the way that he was. you locked eye contact, sensing the tense gaze he scorned towards you. you decided that it was time to go to the bathroom.

--

sitting on the cold tile for about twenty minutes helped ground you to the reality of your situation. you came to this party hoping to escape the emotions that he made you feel after basking and bathing in them for the past three weeks, however, the same guy appeared right in front of you at the worst time possible. you could go one of two ways: go bother rey and make him drive thirty minutes to and back from your house just to drop you off, or to stay in the bathroom.

considering that someone knocked on the bathroom door as you were pondering, you decided to choose neither of the options and chose a secret, third one: to stay so that rey can enjoy his night.

leaving the bathroom into a relatively empty hallway, you felt an odd stare as you walked past a tall man holding a beer in his hand. you heard and felt his heavy footsteps right behind you, trailing after you in the dark area. you started to walk quicker towards the end of the hallway, reaching the entrance to it that led to the living room where a couple of groups of people were.

"where are you going, pretty lady?" you heard from behind you.

you ignored him, finding his remarks uncomfortable and weird.

you felt his breath on your neck, "y'know, it's rude to ignore a man who's interested in you."

"leave me alone," you sternly demanded.

"what, are you a fucking prude or something?" he asked, grabbing your wrist.

"what the fuck? let go of me, now," you warned as his grip on you tightened, causing your heart to drop all the way to your bladder.

suddenly, he was being pulled off of you and pounded into by someone's fists so fast that it could possibly beat the speed of light; you could tell by the way that the figure punched that it was hamzah. you didn't even see him in the room before he was on the floor with the man from the hallway. you stood there, motionless with worry for hamzah's physical being, as people attempted to intervene and pull hamzah off of him. you watched as hamzah was pried off of him by martin, scolding him and asking him what he was doing. luckily, the man simply left the area and hamzah went into the bathroom, alone.

luckily, the room went back to the usual conversations relatively quick, since it lasted a couple of punches thrown in by hamzah; in addition, a couple of people were staring at you as you yelled at him to let go of your arm. you didn't know how to feel. what if he didn't get him off of you? would you have gotten assaulted? or even worse? however, those thoughts also simultaneously existed with thoughts of how hamzah got there so quick and why he just pummeled a guy into the floor, even after you two weren't on good terms. nevertheless, you went against your goal of avoiding anything hamzah-related and walked to the bathroom.

knocking on the door, he took a minute to turn the knob. he saw you in front of him and gazed at you with an expression that you haven't seen on him before; a mixture of everything felt tonight and, possibly, for the past three weeks. you got a good look at how his eyebags were more protruded as if the skin had a second layer. his eyebags mixed with the lilac and ruby shades mixed in led you to believe that he was struggling to sleep; it was as if you were looking at a mirror.

"can i come in?" you asked.

though you realize that this is stunting your ability to heal, his voice was comforting, "yeah, sure."

he sat down on the closed toilet, as you sat down on the rim of the bathtub besides it. he stared at his hand, bruises and redness already forming on his knuckles, as well as an open gash on his ring finger. you got up from the bathtub rim and crouched over to the cabinet below the sink, watching his eyes linger onto you as you searched for something to clean out his would and wrap it. taking out a roll of bandage and wound cleaner, you sat back down. you gently took his hand in yours and began to clean his wound.

"this might hurt," you mumbled.

you squeezed the wound cleaner as he winced, a sour expression with his eyebrows scrunched on his face apparent. you began to wrap his hand, trying your best to be as gentle as possible. you still felt his eyes on you, like you were a puppet performing in front of an audience.

you broke the silence, "are you drunk?"

"what?"

"y'know, have you drank anything since you got here."

"oh- no, no i haven't."

you ripped the end of the bandage off, attempting to tie it onto his hand, "so, you beat his ass completely sober?"

he chuckled, "yeah."

"it was stupid."

he gave you a look of disbelief, "what?"

"hamzah, you could've hurt yourself! what if he had a knife on him or a gun or just something-"

"you're telling me that i'm stupid for getting a guy, who was clearly making you uncomfortable, off of you?"

you sighed, "no, hamzah, you're not stupid. i'm saying that your actions were stupid because you could've gotten seriously hurt and i don't want to be the reason you're in the hospital. i don't want you to get hurt at all."

"well, would he have done it?"

puzzled, you tilted your head to the side, "who?"

"the- fuckin- the guy you were with- him- would he have done this for you?"

a chuckle of disbelief escaped from your throat, "why does that matter?"

"i saw him hugging you and shit, he should've done what i did- where was he when you needed him? why'd he let you go to the bathroom by yourself?"

"why does it matter if he was hugging me, hamzah? why does it matter if he left me alone?"

"because if you're gonna replace me with him, he has to be better than me!" his voice got slightly louder, causing you to jump, "fuck- if we're not together anymore, you have to find someone that could take care of you as well as i did or even better."

your eyes squinted with annoyance, "hamzah, you literally just said that we were just friends. what are you talking about 'we're not together anymore?' you were the one who said that we weren't ever together."

"i fucking lied, okay? i lied. i fucking lied to you because i can't handle the fact that you wanted more and i- i just- i can't be enough for you," he rushed as the information in his head that he wanted to let out was twice as fast as his words, "i wanted more too. fuck, i wanted more so fucking bad- you don't get it, but i'd be selfish if i just took you all for myself even if i couldn't give you everything that you deserve."

emotions began to implode within your chest, "are you serious? you could've fucking tried or, better yet, you could've just talked to me, hamzah! genuinely, what the hell are you even talking about with that 'i couldn't give you everything' shit. i don't want everything, i just wanted you."

your breathing became heavier as tears began to flow out of your eyes once more, mirroring the scene at your apartment that lead to this very encounter. though you laid in bed for three weeks, you didn't cry once, not ever since the time you last cried in front of him. every single fear was running rampant in your head from speaking to him with such vulnerability. yet, you soon realized that there was no point of holding back. he was already watching you intently and listening to every single word you were saying, gazing at you with longing eyes that yearned the longer you were sat in the bathroom. there was no turning back now, so you decided to tell him everything that you've been feeling and thinking in the past three weeks of agonizing heartbreak with one, singular sentence. with breaths heavy within your chest and tears now streaming down your face, you let go.

"hamzah, i just want you."

in that moment, hamzah saw the heartbreak in personified, human form. he watched you crumple apart in front of him like balls of paper about to be thrown into a trash can. hamzah went into the situationship with the thought that it would be the best possible outcome; the outcome where there's no mess to clean up, nor promises to keep, nor expectations to maintain. the situationship was, in his eyes, a way to keep you both from being hurt. knowing that his very intention was to not hurt you at all, as he watched you crying your eyes out in front of him, finally caused the the realization that he was supporting the very cause he was against.

hamzah didn't know what to do, yet, he knew he had to make this right for the sake of you, him, and the connection between you two.

hamzah lifted you up onto his lap, unsure and hesitant, watching your reaction to his actions. watching the tears on your face slowly stop sliding down and your breathing get slightly lighter, he believed it was okay. he wiped your face with his thumbs with such gentleness to it; in hamzah's mind, he has broken you down to the point where there's cracks in your skin, so he was trying his best not to shatter you completely. after gazing at your eyes with a sympathetic, longing, and apologetic stare, he gently brought your face closer towards his. he closed the gap between you guys' lips, a wave of nostalgia and comfort overtaking the vulnerability that was just in the room. over time, the kiss got more desperate and aching. your lips chased after each other as your tongues moves synchronously with the same feelings of past despair and hopelessness. your hands were roaming up and down each other's bodies as if it was meant to be explored by each other; as if you were both artifacts meant to be excavated. it lasted fifteen minutes; the passion radiated from you guys' bodies even after you stopped kissing to breathe. hamzah was the first to speak.

"i know you came here with a date, but i can't take it anymore. i need you in my life, baby, i need you back and i need you back now. the past couple weeks i haven't been sleeping or eating or doing anything besides just sitting there and realizing that i'm a fucking idiot. i never liked the girl that i was on the phone with and i blocked her right after i left your place, that night. i don't even know what i was doing and i shouldn't have even picked up in the first place- i should have never said we were just friends. i was lying. i was a fucking liar and you can do whatever you want to make me pay for that. you can slap me as hard as you can or burn my hoodies or anything, baby, just-please forgive me, i'm sorry. i'll do anything to have you back in my life-"

you cut him off with a slow, gentle, and lingering kiss, once again. pulling away, he admired you like he was in a trance that he wasn't willing to be broken out of.

"i'm not dating rey. he's here with another guy."

hamzah looked puzzled as he rubbed loving circles onto your thighs, "what?"

"he's gay."

"thank fucking god," he let out a sigh of relief, "i think i felt my heart genuinely shatter when i walked in on him hugging you."

you laughed, "you were that hurt over it?"

"of course i'd be. it's you."

"yeah, yeah, don't flatter me," you teased.

hamzah's expressione turned serious once again, "baby, please come back to me. i'll make it all up to you if you let me, i promise. i don't care how long it takes or what i'll have to do. let me prove to you that i can take care of you."

your expression also became serious, "it depends. are you taking care of me as my idiot neighbor who occasionally comes over to do things that friends don't do?"

you asked the question expecting him to answer that he'll do better than that, however, he surprised you once again.

he took your hand and kissed it, "no, i'll take care of you as your boyfriend, if you'll let me."

--

authors note!

hi guys this is so late i am going to bed goodnight!

[leebrontide]

I ever tell y'all about the South African nun I used to work with?

She's the only nun I have ever personally known. No idea how good of an example she is. I'm guessing she's an outlier in many respects.

She had a masters in social work, and worked very hard at the addiction counseling center I used to work with. All her paycheck went to supporting the order. She was, indeed, a bit severe for my taste sometimes. I guess she followed the stereotype in that way.

But I was under the distinct impression she joined the order to help protect her from retribution for her anti-apartheid activism. Don't get me wrong, she was a big fan of Jesus, but she also used to sneak out of the convent when she was young to go clubbing. The met the Pope in jeans.

When I decided to be a good ally to deaf folks by being honest when I couldn't make out what someone was saying (lol. That was a learning experience) she was the first person to offer to tutor me in ASL. (First of 4. Turns out I'm kinda deaf.)

She was AGGRESSIVELY pro queer. Like if someone said something homophobic in her presence they were IN FOR IT.

And one time, she was called in for jury duty, and she was gone for over a month. Which, to be fucking honest, was a massive pain in the ass for the rest of us, who had to cover her work. At the end she came back, looking absolutely smug. Apparently they'd put her holy but on a jury looking to convict a young trans woman of something that, if you listened to anybody but the cops, she was obviously being framed for.

The prosecution pushed hard. Several jurors were willing to convict.

But this sweet, holy troll not only gave her entire paycheck from her work to the convent, her entire living came from her order. Which meant, out of the whole jury, she was the only one who could sit there in deliberation indefinitely without loosing a cent. And she sat her ass down and argued and protested and refused to budge until this girl was officially not guilty.

None of us were irritated for her being gone so long.

She didn't always know the right words, and she didn't understand everything, but she knew the main thing- take people at their word, and trust that they know their experiences and their selves better than you do. And she was always very kind about asking me questions that might irritate.

The final thing that won her my heart tho, actually came after I was fired from that job for, frankly, being disabled. Which you'd think would be illegal but since the manager had kindly offered me what looked like a good deal, to let me go contract instead of salary, for more flexible hours, they'd talked me into signing away many of my worker's protections. So, they could get away with it.

And this nun marched right into my boss's boss's office and blasted her with the full force of her catholic guilt beam. Or however that works. I don't know. I'm not Catholic. Boss-boss was reportedly in tears. As frankly she should be! Ableism in a therapy setting is a special level of evil. Common, but still evil.

I have no point, I was just thinking fondly of her this evening, and how sometimes your allies aren't where you expect them to be.

[kalmiaphlox]

The Perfect Girl

AO3 Link / Masterlist

There's still one piece not in place. Astarion holds his hand out, flexing his fingers, a devious grin upon his face. “Your panties, please.” With a roll of her eyes and a muttered, “Insatiable…” Hircine peels off her sheer panties, slapping them into his awaiting hand. They're damp. 

Having been married for a while now, Astarion has learned all the inner workings of his wife, Hircine, quite well he thinks, but tonight, something is... off, be it her scent or mood, that woman just isn't right.

He'll get to the bottom of it one way or another, and if he gets to play with her tits, then all the better.

Pairing: Astarion x Named Female Tav (Hircine)

WC: 4.9k

Main Tags: Fluff, Smut, Body Worship, Focus on BOOBS, BREASTS and TITTIES, Mild Praise Kink, Mild Scent Kink, Thigh Riding, Breast fucking, a little Panty thievery, Established Relationship

Sharp, full-bodied and extra sweet, something about her scent changed.

Anytime in the last two days that his wife drifts by, Astarion’s mouth waters and his head follows her path unconsciously. It can’t be a new perfume, there’s nothing artificial about this enticing smell.

Nothing out of the ordinary was eaten recently, there’s been no strange happenings in the mines, and Hircine’s not even particularly burdened these days, so what’s caused this alteration?

He likes it, obviously, but he needs to know why.

Tonight, Hircine lounges on the sofa in one of those short, tulle nightgowns she likes that tend to flounce around with her every dainty movement. The sleeves are long, the collar and hem ruffled and the pale pink color gives her a playful aura that offsets her ever-present seriousness. Her gray hair spills out all across her back and arms, not held back by any of the pins and ties that keep it out of her face during work hours.

She was moody today, if not outright snappy, and now she lays chest down, running a hand along the rug with her bare legs in his lap while Astarion translates some abyssal documents, occasionally sneaking glances to figure out his approach. Her irritation waned once they left the mines so maybe work stressed her out, but if Hircine’s weighed down, there is a sure fire way to relieve that tension—for both of them, because it’s hard work suffering this mood.

Clearing his throat, Astarion sets down the parchments and quill on the end table. “Love,” the point of an ear angles in his direction a few degrees to indicate she’s listening, the brat. “Will you come here?”

He can hear the quietest indignant exhalation as Hircine pushes herself up and turns around to crawl over to his side, leaning all her weight against his arm. “Mm?” She huffs.

What is this absolute creature of a woman?

Patting his lap, Astarion smiles tightly, muzzling the urge to be snippy back. “Sit, please.”

Thankfully, she doesn’t question his words and swings a leg over, straddling his lap so the nightdress bunches up around her toned thighs. The gold ring of her hazy lavender eyes reflects the light as they dart around anywhere but at him, and the full bottom lip juts out in the smallest pout.

No one would guess she’s almost one hundred and fifty with this childish attitude.

He rests his hands on her shoulders, rubbing up and down along the soft fabric of the nightdress. “What’s wrong, pet? You’ve been… under a rain cloud all day.” She frowns in response. Gods below. Dropping his hands to her thighs, Astarion tries again. “Are you in pain?”

Hircine twists her lips. “No…”

At least it’s words this time.

He slides up over her hips, running his thumbs along her smooth belly, feeling how she quivers at the touch though the frown sticks to her face. Now she’s just being difficult. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” she says simply.

Easy enough.

Cupping her shapely breasts, Astarion squeezes them together, flicking the pad of his thumbs over her peaked nipples. Her thighs clamp down over his legs and she keens softly.

Hmm, something’s off. They feel different, and while Hircine loves having her breasts touched, she doesn’t react this strongly to it.

“Not that I’m necessarily an expert on your tits, love, but they’re… heavier than usual.”

Her face flushes a plummy hue that makes his fangs ache, and oh, isn’t it so obvious? Hircine swallows audibly. “It’s just that time for me.”

“I thought you didn’t experience menstruation.”

“Not exactly. The magic stops the bleeding part, not the… hormones.” So none of the fun, how boring.

He leans forward, trailing his nose along her jawline to inhale her heady aroma. Fuck, it’s good. “That explains why you smell so delightful then. I’ve been losing my mind over this.” Giving her breasts another firm squeeze, she whimpers, maybe a little too pitifully and Astarion releases her, concern stomping all over his lusty intentions. “I'm not hurting you, am I?”

“They're jus’ sens'tive.” Hircine mumbles.

“Is that so?” Is it strange to admit he likes whiny Hircine? She's always so uptight and repressed with her desires, avoiding being too loud or saying exactly what she wants. He needs to coax those wants and needs out of her with each meticulously placed touch.

Her hands find his under the layers of tulle, placing them back on her chest as she stumbles over her words. “No, I—I want you to—to, uh, touch them—me.”

“Gently?” Astarion asks.

“N-No, harder. Please.”

He freezes, all sound drowning out by the roar of blood rushing past his ears. His wife, Hircine, the uncompromising business woman who never asks for anything, asked for him to be rough.

To her lovely, perfect tits.

If words like that aren't meant to break a man, then what can?

Such a sight should be complimented by her bouncing on his thick cock while inarticulate moans and sighs of pleasure ring out into the room, but they aren't there yet.

That doesn’t mean they can’t play in other ways.

Astarion grasps her breasts, kneading the buttery flesh with amusement at how unusually swollen they are—overflowing handfuls, and he brings his mouth over where one of those tender buds lies beneath her nightdress, latching onto it through the fabric. She rocks in his lap, and he pulls her forward squeezing her tight against him before calming those movements to brush their lips together. “Slow yourself, love.”

Hircine pulls away, clearly displeased. “Why?”

He smiles, all sharp fangs and hunger, squeezing her tits with enough force that her breath catches in her throat and then Astarion lets go, a flood of remorse at no longer holding them. “Get up.” He commands. “We're going to have some fun.”

Quick to listen, Hircine takes to her feet, heavy lidded with want as she stares at him, awaiting further instruction.

“Take it off.” His hand flicks in her direction. She looks down, grabbing the hem of her dress, holding it out as if to say ‘This?’ and he nods. As if it could be anything else.

Lifting her hands, Hircine deftly unhooks the collar from the back, pulling the fabric forward over her shoulders so it drops to the ground where the fabric pools into a pink puddle at her feet. A satisfied hum slips past his lips as he takes her form in. Slim and graceful, the silhouette of his wife’s body haloed by the fire is all soft curves and toned muscles crafted from years of dancing and sword play. Narrow shoulders, thin waist, rounded hips covered by sheer lacy panties, all places he'd like to run his tongue and fingers—another time. Astarion’s focus has been drawn elsewhere for the night.

“Face that way.” He points to his right and she does so without question. Trailing down from the flutter of her lashes, to the sharp edge of the clavicle, his eyes alight at the top of her breasts, following along to the slightly upturned points of those delectably tightened nipples, the same ghostly white as her mouth—he tries not to think about it too often, it works him into an insatiable frenzy when she forgoes her usual dark lipstick.

It's factually untrue. I am an expert on her tits.

They are bigger—fuller, only just so. Any lesser man or woman wouldn't notice, but Astarion spends plenty of time touching, staring… occasionally tasting. How could he not see the change?

Well, he didn't, did he? Though he can pinpoint why.

“It must have been terribly uncomfortable for you throughout the night, when your dresses are all tailored perfectly to your measurements. Poor things were smothered in all that tight cloth.” He tuts sympathetically as he stands, crossing to her side silently. With gentle hands, Astarion turns Hircine towards the fireplace, feeling as the radiating heat warms her soft skin while he glides his palms down her arms and back up to her neck, brushing gray strands of hair aside before moving to her jawline to tilt her head back against his shoulder. Their lips meet, melding together in a slow, roiling passion that will lead down a path of no return should they continue. The taste of her is so light and refreshing as he flicks his tongue against the pursed seam of her mouth.

Astarion breaks away, planting some tender kisses along the crook of her shoulder, hooking his arms under hers and cupping her breasts once again as he does, swaying them from palm to the tips of his fingers to feel their weight.

Delightful.

Oh, to sink his fangs into the soft flesh of one, draining every last drop of blood until she's just a lifeless corpse... Not the best or most wanted idea, but fuck if it doesn't make him hard.

Hircine looks down at his ministrations in puzzlement, finding his current actions underwhelming. Astarion grins against her shoulder blade, playfully jiggling her breasts in his hands so they ripple and bounce.

An unamused glare is flashed his way, but all it does is make him laugh and nuzzle against her cheek. “I’m just letting Belbol and Iiyola breathe, pet. It’s no surprise you were feeling so poorly today…” And finding himself merciful, Astarion decides she deserves what she asked for.

‘Harder.’

Taking her pert nipples between his thumb and forefinger, he twists and pulls. The sweet songbird cry that erupts from Hircine is cut short when she claps a hand over her mouth, falling limply back against his chest.

Well, that just won’t do.

He drops his hold on her to force Hircine to stand on her own, moving away with hands on hips, clicking his tongue in disappointment. “Hircine, my love, I won’t tolerate any quietness tonight. If I’m touching you, I had better hear it.”

“But—” She starts to say and Astarion wags a finger in her face. “No ‘buts’! We both know the servant’s won’t step foot out here. I want to hear you, and you will be heard. Understood?”

She chews on her lip and nods. “Yes, Husband.”

What a chore it’s been, ignoring his own arousal but Hircine being obedient is too much. Whiny, begging, obedient… Maybe he just likes Hircine doing anything. The confines of his pants is unbearable now and as much as he’d like to only please his wife, it feels a little unfair to be left out of all the fun, not that he’s missing out on anything playing with her tits.

Astarion jerks his chin up slightly, tapping his chest haughtily. “You know, I’m also starting to feel a little restrained… There must be something in the air. Strip me down, love.”

The powerful shiver that tracks down her body at his words leaves Astarion biting back a moan. How can she be so perfect for him? Needy and wanting, only ever bowing to his demands. Pliable, malleable, flexible. She’s all of that and more.

Like annoyingly tight-lipped for everything except his cock.

Stepping forward, Hircine closes the gap between them, the heat from her body leaching into his skin through his clothes. What control he has to not pull her flush against him, to feel her breasts pressed against his chest as he grinds his throbbing erection into her hips, anything so Hircine knows how he hungers—yearns for her.

Instead, Astarion fastidiously watches her hands as they rise up under his chin, taking the blue cotton collar of his shirt between her trembling fingers, sliding down to the first button which she carefully undoes while her glowing gold eyes flick back and forth between his face and the task at hand. Another button is unhooped, then another until Hircine reaches the hem of his shirt, fiddling with each side almost shyly.

Her heart is hammering in her chest, sending a beating upon her poor rib cage in its fraught attempt to escape from Hircine's body, breaths shallow and quick as she pushes the cotton from his shoulders.

To take her in his hands… He wants it. He needs it.

The shirt falls away from him with ease, dropping to the floor. “Oh, good girl.” Astarion praises, drinking in the way she trembles with excitement, a leaf rustling in the wind. Then he rushes forward, taking a fistful of Hircine’s thick hair to wrench her head back and slam their lips together, tongue demanding entry to her mouth.

Ever eager to receive, Hircine opens for him, letting their tongues tangle together. Warm and inviting, decadent and soft, they share breath, taste and fervent affection.

His darling wife, putty in his capable hands.

Physically that is. Astarion still doesn't have her heart, not yet, not truly.

But I will. Whatever it takes.

Taking a plush lip between his teeth, he pulls, tugging on it gently while keeping a firm grip on her hair. A mesmerizing whine escapes Hircine’s throat and Astarion swallows it, claiming her mouth once again. Gods, she smells of berries plucked fresh from the vine muddled with spices, and the taste… like a rich barrel aged wine with hints of oak and tannin upon his tongue. Divine, this wife of his is.

It’s time to get back to business though.

They separate, panting for breath, foreheads pressed together and Astarion presses his lips to her cute nose. “My beautiful girl,” his hands once again find her breasts, thumbs circling her areolas with a contained passion. He makes an amendment, giving her tits a playful squeeze. “My beautiful girls.” Hircine flutters her lashes, hiding any annoyance at his statement, not that she’s ever seemed to care much where his fixation is concerned.

Bending her backwards till her back arches in a curve, Astarion leans down, taking a tight, pale nipple in his mouth, sucking hard until Hircine gasps out an “Oh, gods, yes!” He pulls back with a satisfied pop, watching her tit bounce in place. They will be feasted on with utmost reverence tonight.

“Can you get the rest of my clothes, love? I want to see how perfect you are on your knees.” His breathy voice whispers across her skin, raising gooseflesh in its wake. If it weren’t for Astarion holding her up, she might have collapsed into a lust-filled pile of limbs at his words with the way she softens in his embrace.

To have his wife be so willing… His cock twitches in his pants at the sight.

Never taking her eyes off his, Hircine slips down to her knees, skimming her delicate fingers along the firm muscles of his abdomen, sparking trails of electricity across his skin. Fingering the edge of his trousers, she looks up, asking silently for permission to continue.

“Good girl. Go on,” Astarion coos and she dives into her task, ripping the end of his belt from the strap, much to his amusement—and disappointment. Astarion pulls his hips back, letting dissatisfaction drip from his words. “Slow down, pet. I need you to take your time.”

Hircine blinks, reigning herself in with a weak nod, ensuring a more appropriate pace is taken to de-clothe him. Belt is discarded and trousers worked down over his hips until they drop to the floor where Astarion steps out of them. Gods, his poor cock is straining against his underwear, leaking pre-cum in its sorry state.

Playing with the elastic band of his underwear, Hircine rises on her knees, dragging her wet tongue from his navel to where she torturously slow reveals the flushed head of his shaft. Her lips are silken as she kisses his cock once and pulls down his underwear completely, much to Astarion’s unquiet relief.

Oh, to fuck that beautiful mouth of hers until she gags…

Next time, he concedes.

“I know you could love on my cock all day,” he starts to say and Hircine nuzzles against his member in agreement, taking him at the base in her warm hands, her pale lavender-gold eyes seek his reactions. His lip is sucked into his mouth, swallowing down a groan when she finds the head again, laying sweet kitten-licks against his glistening slit.

She's so good to me.

A brush of his fingers across her cheekbones and into her marble gray hair that is so pleasing to wind into his hand, Astarion takes a gentle fistful of it and pulls Hircine back so her neck is bared to him, but he doesn't bite. “Like I said, you can do this all day, but that's not what I want right now. Up.” With a tug of her hair, Hircine drops his stiff cock like a forgotten toy, the pout returning to her face in full force as she stands on wobbly legs.

This moody creature, what will he do with her?

There's still one piece not in place. Astarion holds his hand out, flexing his fingers, a devious grin upon his face. “Your panties, please.”

With a roll of her eyes and a muttered, “Insatiable…” Hircine peels off her sheer panties, slapping them into his awaiting hand.

They're damp.

Every synapse within his body misfires and Astarion goes statue-still, unsure of what he wants to do. The smell, the feel, the taste. He'll have it all.

Collapsing backwards onto the couch, Astarion mashes the panties against his face, huffing her intoxicating aroma so it's all he knows. It would be all too easy for him to get off with these now, shove them in his mouth as he strokes his cock until it bursts. Mere moments would pass with how wound up he is.

“I thought we were going to have fun?” Hircine interrupts his lusting, her voice whiny and quiet. When he turns his attention back onto his wife, she stands there with arms crossed exactly the way he likes, right under her bust so her tits are propped up and squeezed together.

The sight is absolutely mouth-watering.

Tucking the panties behind him so they can be added to his collection later, Astarion outstretches his hand, pulling Hircine closer when she places her hand within his, guiding one of his legs between hers. “Well, I’ll have to rectify that issue immediately. Sit your pretty cunt on me please.”

She pauses momentarily at the command before lowering herself slowly—obediently. As she does, Astarion takes her breasts in hand, leaning in to suck a nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the hardened bud until she grasps at his hair, pulling him further into her soft chest. He massages the other, feeling the give of its flesh and enjoying Hircine’s whispering whines. He’ll hand out a correction soon if her volume doesn’t increase. Her heat is dripping when it meets his skin and the smell of her arousal is driving him to the brink of insanity, moaning into her tit, fighting the urge to sink his fangs into it and bleed her till there is naught but a husk left.

Pillowy, delicious, and perfect. He adores these things, and the one they are connected to.

With one last hard suck, Astarion lets go, pinching her other nipple between her fingers and Hircine bucks her hips in response, slicking up his leg something glorious. “My sweet pet,” he begins, trailing his lips along the top of her breasts, “I want you to fuck yourself on my thigh,” he nibbles at her collarbone, earning him a hushed sigh that's a whisper from the gods themselves, “and I’m going to devour Belbol and Iiyola as you do, and you cannot stop until you come, not even for a moment. If you stop, I won’t touch you again for the rest of the night. Can you do that for me?”

“Ye-Yes.” Hircine whispers, her fingers entangling further, making a mess of his styled curls.

Bouncing the leg she’s sitting on, Astarion pulls back and watches her tits jiggle in tandem. Gods, he aches for them. “Can I bite you tonight?”

Her cunt clenches against his leg, thighs squeezing him as she nods and that nearly destroys all of his self control.

He regrettably tears his eyes away, staring into the shining rings of her eyes to save some thread of sanity with a shaky breath in to steady himself. He needs to last through this.

Moving up so she’s situated closer to the top of his thigh, Hircine places her arms behind her body, resting her hands on his knee so her back is arched, jutting her chest towards him.

The little vixen… She’s too much for him some days.

No time is wasted as he dives towards her chest, cupping her breasts to lavish attention on each nipple, alternating sucking, pinching and lightly biting. Gods forbid Belbol and Iiyola not get equal attention. Hircine is working as directed, rocking her lower lips against his skin, angling her hips down to build friction on her clit.

Her mewls of pleasure are music to his ears, feeding Astarion encouragement when he does something she likes.

Settling back against the couch while Hircine rides his thigh, he watches—admires, the way her curvy hips gyrate to some unheard beat, heavy breasts swaying in tandem. He licks his lips at the sight, wanting them covered in his bites and spit and scent, anything to mark her as his. “You need to be louder, Hircine.” He reminds her with a click of his tongue.

A rough twist to a nipple has Hircine crying out loudly, “Oh, fu—! Yes! I will be! Please, please, please!” Hips moving faster as her chest heaves under his touches. Now that was the right move.

Nearly a whole breast is sucked into his mouth when he takes one again, tugging it up and swirling her peak with his tongue while the other tit is palmed and squeezed aggressively, awaiting its turn.

Alternating to the next finally, his teeth graze over that luscious nipple, gently taking it between his teeth to pull on. He looks up and their eyes meet. Hircine’s jaw hangs slack at the sight, a sharp, erotic moan breaking out of her throat as she buffs her clit hard against his leg.

Releasing her breasts, they are now flushed and puffy from how hard he’s worked them. I think it’s time, Astarion thinks to himself.

“Which one?” He asks, breathless.

Hircine rocking slows, but doesn’t stop as confusion shatters through the lusty haze on her face. “Wh-What?”

“Which one do I bite? I’ll let my good girl choose.” He croons dreamily.

Her breath hitches and thighs bare down on him again. “The le—”

“Use her name!”

She’s able to muster a weak eye roll. “Ah~ Belbol.”

Astarion flicks the underside of Iiyola. He’ll find her a different reward later. “Good choice, pet.” Giving no time for any snark, Astarion plunges his fangs down into the chosen breast, relishing as her rich blood instantly fills his mouth. The bite is the last push Hircine needs to tumble over the edge, physically and metaphorically, as her arms give out, falling backwards limply while her orgasm pulses through her body, drowning him in more of her essence. Astarion wraps his arms up her back, holding her tight while he drinks another mouthful of that effervescent life blood spiced so wonderfully with her release.

Two more deep swallows are taken before he unlatches, running his tongue along the rivulets that dribble out. Hircine likes to be light-headed after his bite and anymore than that makes her unresponsive, so he strictly regulates how much blood he takes. To her, the high is fun, making her quite giggly and ‘floaty’, whatever that means. Four to five draws of blood tends to get her there without leaving her dopey and it fills Astarion up nicely for the day.

The wound sealed, he continues to suckle at her breasts and nipples, laving over those peaks with his tongue the way she does to candy, not yet ready to let them go. Each hard pull has Hircine shivering in his arms, her body involuntarily twitching with the aftershocks of her orgasm and bringing forth quiet, pleased sighs from between her bitable lips.

Regaining her faculties, Hircine wraps her arms tightly over his head, keeping his face buried between the two luscious pillows of her chest.

He could die and be reborn here again and again… and again.

“—on my face?”

The end of that sentence is the only part that makes it into his ears when Hircine's heartbeat is pounding wildly against his head. “Can you repeat that, love?” He speaks directly against her sternum.

She wiggles in his embrace as her skin heats up with embarrassment. So she said something scandalous… “Can you come on my face?” Her voice cracks at about six octaves by the end, turning to a squeak that is certainly only audible to cavvekans and one tit-obsessed vampire.

Astarion barks a laugh before pressing a kiss to her chest and pulling away. “Well if you insist, my darling pet. On the floor now, I'll paint a pretty picture on you.”

Crawling off of him in quick excitement and leaving behind his slick coated thigh, Hircine perches between his legs, awaiting her prize while sucking her lip between her teeth.

He could devour every bit of her, here and now.

It won't take Astarion long to reach his tipping point, but since he helped her reach euphoria, maybe she should return the favor… Not that he really cares for tit for tat between them.

Taking his cock in hand, he sees how she stills, her gaze hungering for what's to come. Edging closer to the end of the couch, Astarion wiggles it in her face. “Fuck me between Belbol and Iiyola.”

Her eyes grow wide in excitement, breathing stutters. “Can-Can I taste you first?”

With his other hand, Astarion caresses her jaw, slipping his thumb into the wet heat of her mouth to press down on her tongue briefly. “Of course you can, my sweet girl. You know I love it when you ask.” With that said, he reclines back on the couch.

Hesitant at first, Hircine takes him in her hands, bringing her lips to rest on the glans, slowly spreading her mouth open to engulf his cock, taking him all the way to the base.

His perfect girl, always eager to choke on his cock.

The flat of her tongue trails along the underside as she pulls back up, hollowing her cheeks. Astarion’s head drops against the couch with a breathy groan, straining already to not spend himself down her throat.

She must sense his closeness, quickly removing her mouth so an obscene string of spit and his precum threads his cock and her lips together.

How is he meant to maintain composure in the face of such a woman?

Now coated to perfection, Hircine brings her body higher, aligning her beautiful breasts with his aching member and embraces it in her heavenly soft warmth. She squeezes her tits together more firmly for some grip, sliding wetly up and down on his shaft. What a dream; Astarion could never ask for anything better.

It only takes a few passes until the urge is unbearable. His hips jerk upwards with a gasp as his control snaps. “I’m—Oh, gods!” Come erupts from his cock, spraying up onto Hircine’s face and breasts, which she continues to massage over his cock, extracting every last drop of spend from him like the greedy woman she is.

Knowing he gets sensitive following an orgasm, Hircine frees him from the succulent cradle of her breasts, inspecting the mess as come slides thickly down her tits.

Astarion tuts quietly, hating wastefulness. Fingers slide over one of her nipples, scooping up his spend to bring it to her lips which she opens dutifully for, sucking his fingers clean with a self-satisfied smirk on her face. “There’s a little something on your chest, pet. You should take care of it, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

She hums in agreement, raising her breasts to swipe her tongue along the top swell of them. They spill over in her small, yet capable hands as she licks up his mess.

Once done, Astarion plucks his shirt from the ground, wiping the rest of his spend from her face and anywhere her tongue couldn’t reach. “Fabulous job, love. Come here.” Ever keen to be in his arms, she dives into them, curling up against his chest and burying her face into his neck.

“Do you feel better now?” He murmurs against her hair, reveling in her body heat.

She nods. “Mm-hm.”

“Good. Next time your tits hurt, let me know immediately so I can give them relief. Just the thought of Belbol and Iiyola suffering in silence makes me ill. I can’t bear it.”

Her hand snakes down to his chest, pinching one of his nipples suddenly. His shocked yelp has Hircine giggling to herself. “I don’t think you need any reasons to give them relief, Husband.”

“True,” Astarion palms a breast in his hand, a soft smile on his face. “Of course, the same extends to you as well, pet. I’m always here for whatever you need.”

Her arms wrap around his neck, holding him close. “My perfect husband.”

“And my perfect wife.”

-belbol - gift -iiyola - treasure

[ladiesworldsblog]

Isn’t she sexy? She’s everything a man could dream of, she’s a hot body and a dirty mind. And she loves to play with both.

We expected some guest for a dinner party and she had decided to dress beyond sexy, wearing a sheer body suit and slim leather pants. My dick reacted as expected and she just smiled at me.

I just begged her to wear something to cover her boobs and she offered me a deal, if I were ready to do, what she wants, she may do me a favor. So she told me to wear my cock cage that evening and do whatever she says to me and she’ll wear a jacket.

Of course, I nodded and told her that I‘ll do it. Giving her a lovely kiss to seal it. She kept her promise, but I guess some of our guests still got a peek of what she’s hiding underneath. And I heard how she got complimented for her dress and several men obviously told her, that she’s in a great shape. She loves both kinds of of feedback and nearly blushed several times.

I just enjoyed the view, she was clearly the center of attraction and the air was filled will thoughts of dirty minds. I guess every male guest and maybe even some females were thinking about some more private time with my wife. And it aroused me, I wouldn’t have say no to their wish… to their demand. I could understand it so well.

But it got late, more and more of our guests had to leave and suddenly I had lost sight of my wife. But I had to take care of the needs of the remaining guests, so I couldn’t have a look after her. Half an hour later my wife came back to our guests and a minute later I saw one of my friends coming from the bathroom smirking at me as he returned to the party.

Turned out, that he was the last guest, who didn’t had intentions to leave. You know these guys, right? So it was just the three of us and he was heavily flirting with my wife, overwhelming her with compliments and sweet talk.

Suddenly my wife told me to join her in the kitchen for a second. She said, that she’s was in the mood for a bottle of champagne, but the last bottle just got emptied and she asked me to get another one from the shop. I told her, that I had a drink or two as well and couldn’t drive.

She smiled at me, told me, she knew and begged me to go for a walk. My mind started to spin and I remember that my friend and my wife reappeared at the same time just an hour ago. „Be a darling, you promised to do, whatever I want, right.“ I nodded and watched as she gave me her jacket and returned to the living room.

Oh my gosh, I was horny and excited and surely I knew, what was going to happen. I just heard her saying to him, „we‘ll have some time for us, you may unwrap your gift now! And don’t worry about him, he’s fine with it and he‘ll get his treat, when he’s back!“

It took me over an hour to get back to our house, my friend was gone and my wife lay on her back on our couch, she was naked and sweaty and some fluids ran out of her swollen pussy. She smiled at me, told me, I‘m such a lovely cuckold and offered me to taste, what he left inside of her.

[writeriguess]

Reckless // Katsuki x fem!reader

author's note: I often imagine being the one who saves him, instead of the other way around.

The battlefield was chaos. Smoke billowed, shouts echoed, and the acrid stench of burning debris filled the air. Katsuki Bakugo was in the centre of it, explosions ripping through the enemy ranks, his glare fierce and unrelenting. He was doing fine—more than fine, actually. At least, that’s what he told himself.

Until you intervened.

He was mid-blast, his hand cocked back as sweat pooled in his palm, ready to send the last villain flying, when you dashed in front of him. Time seemed to slow as you dove into his line of attack, your energy-shield quirk flaring to life in a brilliant shimmer just as a deadly projectile whizzed toward his back.

BOOM! The impact against your shield reverberated through your body, making your teeth rattle and knees buckle, but you held strong. The blast deflected, sending a shockwave through the clearing as dust and smoke clouded the air.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Katsuki’s furious roar broke through the chaos.

The explosion he’d been building fizzled out as he pivoted to face you. His wide, crimson eyes burned with a mix of rage and something else—something darker and harder to place. His body radiated heat, tiny sparks popping in his clenched fists as he stalked toward you.

“Saving your life, obviously,” you shot back, gasping for breath but managing a defiant smirk. You stood tall despite the strain, your shield flickering and fading as you let go of your quirk.

The villain—forgotten for the moment—was subdued moments later by another pro hero arriving on the scene. But Katsuki’s attention never wavered from you.

“You what?” he growled, stepping closer, his voice dangerously low.

You wiped sweat from your brow and gave him an incredulous look. “I deflected that projectile. It was going to hit you—probably knock you out cold or worse. You’re welcome, by the way.”

His jaw tightened. The cords of muscle in his neck strained as if he were physically holding back a detonation. “I didn’t need your damn help!”

“Oh really?” You raised an eyebrow, your hands moving to your hips as you squared off with him. “Because it sure looked like you didn’t even notice it coming.”

“I had it under control!” he snapped, taking another step forward. His towering frame loomed over you, but you didn’t flinch.

“Right,” you said dryly, rolling your eyes. “You totally had it under control while your back was turned and you were focused on blowing up everything in front of you.”

“That’s my job,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “I don’t need some reckless idiot putting herself in danger for me.”

The insult stung, but you didn’t back down. Your expression softened, but your voice remained firm. “And what if I want to protect you, Katsuki?”

His eyes widened slightly, a flicker of something unreadable passing over his face before his scowl returned with full force. “Tch. Don’t be stupid. That’s not how it works.”

“We’re partners,” you said, stepping closer to him now, your voice quiet but unwavering. “We look out for each other. That’s how it works.”

He shook his head, his hands twitching with residual energy. “I protect you, damn it. Not the other way around.”

“And if I don’t need protecting?” you challenged, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “What if I can handle myself just fine? Just like you?”

Katsuki opened his mouth, then closed it. His frustration boiled over, and he threw his hands up with a growl. “It’s not the same!”

“Why not?” you pressed, your heart pounding. “Why isn’t it the same? Why can’t I want to keep you safe, too?”

He clenched his jaw so hard it ached, his breath coming in sharp, uneven bursts. Finally, he snarled, “Because if anything happened to you, I…” He cut himself off, his eyes burning into yours. “I wouldn’t be able to stand it.”

The weight of his words hung in the air between you, heavy and raw. Your heart squeezed painfully, and for a moment, all the noise of the battlefield faded into silence.

You reached out, placing your hand on his arm, feeling the tension thrumming under his skin. “And what if I feel the same way about you?”

His breath hitched. For a split second, his fierce expression crumbled, vulnerability flashing through his eyes before he slammed the walls back up. He grabbed your wrist, his grip firm but not harsh. “Promise me,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. “Promise you won’t do anything that stupid again.”

You smiled, soft and warm. “I’ll try.”

He scowled. “Not good enough.”

“I’m serious, Katsuki. I’ll try. But I’m not going to stand by and do nothing if you’re in danger.”

He groaned, scrubbing a hand down his face. “You’re impossible.”

“Takes one to know one,” you teased, your grin widening.

Despite himself, his lips twitched, almost forming a smile before he forced it into another scowl. “Tch.” He released your wrist, stepping back but staying close. “You’re a pain in the ass.”

“And you love it,” you shot back, confidence blooming in your chest.

“Yeah,” he muttered under his breath, his eyes never leaving you. “I do.”

Feel free to request <3

[junos-jrabbles]

how do you think friends to lovers with sniper would go?

:) Sorry this took like………. a month…. maybe longer.. to come out, I got distracted by stuff and things!!!

Sniper, romance extraordinaire!

It'd go well! No,, it'd probably go very… very slowly, especially at first.

The first step would be co-workers to friends. His mojo is that, just because you work with him, doesn't mean he's got to be buddy buddy with you. But, once that hurdle is past, he's already nearly attached at your hip half the time.

You would be the “He asked for no pickles.” To his non-confrontational self at points. He'd scamper off for alone time as often as he would without you at base, but if you're just chilling solo somewhere and he can see you, whether that be at base, between battles, or on off hours, you best believe he'll likely come sidle on in for some quiet company.

Speaking of quiet, that's how the development of your relationship (in every applicable sense of the word) would go. It'd shift almost unnoticeably like sand. Some days, the comfortable silence that usually settles between you while you both worked on your own things, together, would dissipate with small, or even deeper talk.

He'll eventually start bringing you coffee, or tea, or water or any other drink you like that he's got on hand when he's making himself a coffee. Placing it at your table, then patting your head and asking “How’s things?” And just listening slowly becomes one of the easier parts of his days.

After, and with that, he'll start offering you to come out with him when he needs to drive out somewhere. Between him and the truckie, it's usually 50/50 on who's doing what haul.

“Y’alright? Been working on that…” He'd glance down at whatever paperwork or the likes you were working on. “That, for a while. Want a breather? The doc's given me a list and a half of stuff to get and bugger if I know what half of it is.” it's hydrocortisone and wet wipes. You almost want to think he can find those himself, (he can), but can easily imagine him finding wrinkle cream and thinking it's the same. You obviously go with him either way.

The moment he realises he feels something different about you would absolutely take place on a night drive. It would be the most mundane of trips, grabbing supplies to fetch back to base, probably a bag of bird seed on your lap for the doves. He's hardly focused on the road since you wound the window down and leant out to it. There's just the flashes of dim yellowed streetlights illuminating your features, whispy hair flickering out behind you, he's almost in the other lane at this point.

Something about how at peace you look —have always looked– around him, the fact that you've shown pretty much nothing but kindness and silly banter to him, it aches. It makes his heart ache so much that it hurts, he wouldn't consider himself eligible in any sense until you made it disastrously obvious.

If you're the type of person to nonchalantly say “I love you”, he probably won't respond at first. He'll freeze up a little, squint his eyes and go. “Yeah, right… I bet you do.” And snicker to play it off, inside he's probably questioning everything he's ever done in life up until that moment. It'd take a while for him to say it back, and by that point you're probably already snogging him so it'd be well overdue.

You would also probably have to be the one to strike the match that brings your romantic relationship to life, most likely. Unless he's pissed off his gourd you've got Buckley's chance of him initiating anything.

The special moment would likely take place at a nice comfy campfire. It'd be a cool autumn evening with a small but warm and blazing fire at your feet. You're both sat next to eachother, just outside his camper, on some tatty fold out chairs he found in the storage, drinking beers and laughing over old stories, and more recent ones.

Eventually, stars twinkling overhead with minds full of the other’s memories, you'll end up grasping at eachother like there's nothing else in the world. The moment will probably get broken only by a beer getting spilt into the fire and almost lighting you both on fire LMAO

gotta love this guy! hope this is up to par, wasn't sure if I wanted to go with just headcanons or something a lil more with this, so kinda went the middle road :) thank you for the ask <3

[scrumpledorph]

Want to add a little here as an example from my personal life. I'm fairly confident, if not officially diagnosed (within an antipsych context, I would certainly hope that's not considered an undermining of my argument) that I have a delayed sleep schedule. When left to my own devices, I tend to gravitate towards a very late sleep schedule (five a.m. to one p.m.).

However, because society is de facto structured around being awake in the morning for things such as doctor's appointments, school, and most obviously employment - I can't stay on that schedule without seriously inhibiting my ability to do things that I need to do to survive. I'm in a class right now that starts at eight thirty every morning, and it's an hour away - so I'm in bed by ten pm the night before to be awake at six.

I get by presently with the side effects of an anti-anxiety medication I take that also makes me deliriously groggy, but even with that unnatural assistance to my sleep - if I get eight to nine hours of sleep at a time my body is fighting me not to sleep during, I will be plagued with restless, fitful bouts of sleep that are peppered with nightmares about sleeping through my alarm, and be struck with a general lethargy for the duration of the day. (I do not take any stimulants to mitigate these effects)

This isn't a disorder because there's some incurable problem I have. I know the cure, and it's letting my sleep schedule orient itself closer to going to bed at five a.m. and waking up around one p.m. Society just refuses to accommodate that solution.

I can't find jobs that are primarily in the afternoon to evening where I live. There are blue collar jobs with fixed schedules that start anywhere between seven and nine a.m and often end around five, part time retail and customer service work that jerks you around anywhere within a twelve hour window, or jobs I'm not qualified for.

Even if I could, the knock on effect of working those hours would be to obliterate my ability to socialize with my friends, whose schedules loosely coalesce between noon and midnight. So, I'm left with imperfect solutions, none of which satisfy me. Presently, the solution is 'be unemployed', which comes with the knock on effect of leaving me alienated from my community and entirely dependent on my parents, who I'm lucky are financially stable at present.

This is not a problem because there's something 'wrong' with me. I'm capable of getting restful sleep, either by taking more of it or by taking it at odd hours. It merely doesn't fit into the expected routine of segmenting the day into three chunks of eight hours. The way society is structured, and its unwillingness to make room for people for whom that structure doesn't work, makes it a problem.

That's the heart of the argument. I know I haven't stated anything that wasn't stated in the original post, but hopefully grounding it with a walkthrough of how it manifests in real life will provide clarity to some.

what do u think ab the whole ‘mental illness wouldn’t exist under a different political economic arrangement’ line of thought

this is a really common point of misunderstanding with regards to both anti-psych critiques and the 'social model of disability'. although there are some specific forms of affective distress that would probably be drastically reduced or eliminated in a communist society (for example, stress and alienation that people experience as a direct result of poverty), anti-capitalist critiques of psychiatry are not promising to eliminate all mental / emotional suffering through political action.

rather, if you hear someone say that 'mental illness' per se wouldn't exist in a communist society, they're usually making the following argument: all humans experience distress, including mental distress, and have limitations, including mental and emotional ones. what makes these things disabling, or an 'illness', is living in a social context in which we are denied support or accommodations for them, and are expected to function in specific ways and conform to specific social expectations, particularly standards of capitalist productivity. in a non-capitalist society where people are valued intrinsically rather than on the basis of economic productivity, we should provide for one another and accommodate each other's unique needs and experiences.

therefore, things we currently identify as 'symptoms' of 'mental illnesses' (eg, anxiety, hearing voices, self-injury, &c) would still exist as part of the spectrum of human experience, but would not prevent us from having our material and social needs met. rather than (as we do now) assuming a very specific set of experiences and abilities as a 'baseline', with a wide range of other behaviours designated as pathological aberrations, we would expect human mental experiences to be varied, including sometimes in ways that are potentially distressing or that limit certain abilities and functionality. so, this line of critique isn't saying that the experiences we currently identify as 'mental illnesses' would all vanish outside of a capitalist context, but that we would treat them as value-neutral variants in the incredibly wide spectrum of human experience, and would create a society that is not hostile to them, or to providing for people's many and varied needs.

[bippot]

Adrian Chase - Peacemaker Masterlist

+ Jake Martin - The Crew and Jeffrey Steinberg - Hidden Signal: Evergreen

Wanna be added to a taglist? Either comment on this post or send me a message!

Peacemaker taglist: @kpopgirlbtssvt, @adriansboyfriend, @10ava01

1) Savage I Tumblr I AO3 I

Adrian makes a fool of himself in front of a pretty girl, but hey, when doesn’t he? She’s weird, funny, and treats him gently, which obviously makes him obsessed with her, and much to his surprise, she seems to like having him around too. Together, they try to carve out a peaceful life together, yet her less than perfect family messes up their harmony.

2) Cowboy & Piggy I Tumblr I AO3 I

No, Adrian had not been crushing on his colleague. That’s just, like, not true in the slightest. It’s not as if the moment she became available, he said something he could never take back.

3) Calendar Girl I Tumblr I AO3 I

When his buddy goes missing, Adrian spends all of his time and energy trying to get her back to him. Because they’re friends, obviously.

4) Hercules and Megara I Tumblr I AO3 I

Childhood friends have a habit of drifting apart. Usually, it’s a natural thing. Adrian never wanted to separate from his best friend, but he thought he had to.

5.a) Squirtle Pyjamas I Tumblr I AO3 I

She knows how to calm Adrian down. And wears his clothes. And teases him relentlessly. And knows exactly what to do to rile him up. And knows his deepest secret. But, no, nothing can happen between them. He must resist the temptation to do something about it.

5.b) A Kid? I Tumblr I AO3 I

In preparation for Allison’s wedding, Adrian becomes the babysitter of her kid for a day and his girlfriend realises how good at the whole thing he is. The idea of marriage and kids suddenly seeps into Adrian’s brain and he can’t seem to shake them away.

6) Spot Over By The Fire Station I Tumblr I AO3 I

After his manager forces him to go to the emergency room for a concussion, Adrian meets an old friend, and she looks worse for wear. He knows he can help with that.

7) Hopelessly Devoted I Tumblr I AO3 I

They broke up a while ago, and Adrian still isn’t over it. Chris takes him on a night out, and they get trashed. Adrian never imagined that he’d get up in front of people and serenade his ex, but he did.

8) My Favourite Girl I Tumblr I AO3 I

Telekinetic powers can be beneficial sometimes. Other times? Yeah, not so much. After a mission gone wrong, it might be that her gifts are godsent. Adrian, however, knows she is godsent, especially with boobs like that.

9) Sweltering I Tumblr I AO3 I

It’s way too hot in Evergreen for Adrian to even hide his attraction to Y/N. He tries. And fails miserably. Especially when the guy who delivers her hot tub is so swoon-worthy.

10) Wednesdays I Tumblr I AO3 I

While Peacemaker was in prison, Vigilante made another friend, and she had a much lovelier voice than Chris did, and after a takedown, Adrian can’t quite get his thoughts off her.

11) What You Deserve I Tumblr I AO3 I

Vigilante has had a long night and just wants to see his favourite girl then go to sleep. Is that too much to ask for?

12) Big Strong Guy I Tumblr I AO3 I

No. Adrian is fine with scary movies. He’s fine, okay? That’s impossible; he doesn’t have goosebumps. You’re seeing things. Must be, because a big, strong guy who doesn’t get scared of shit like that.

13) Lucky Number 14 I Tumblr I AO3 I

A work outing let’s some things come to light, yet Adrian isn’t there to hear it.

14) Last In Line I Tumblr I AO3 I

Getting kidnapped is becoming more of a regular thing for Adrian. Yet he knows this one. And she definitely knows him.

15) The Things You Do For Pussy I Tumblr I AO3 I

Living together means that Adrian’s secret identity isn’t really a secret to her, so she loves to make thirsty comments about Vigilante whenever she can, and it’s not as if Adrian feels something more than friendship for his roommate, right?

16) Waller’s Way I Tumblr I AO3 I

When the new government-issued 11th Street Kid arrives, the team soon finds out why Waller picked her. They don’t really know how Adrian pissed off their boss so much, but he sure isn’t happy with their new colleague.

17) Clingy I Tumblr I AO3 I

The Vigilante mobile breaks down, and Adrian needs a hand, transport-wise and socially, it seems. Once his coworker gives him a hand, it sets him off, and there is no going back to the platonic relationship they had before. A relationship that needs to have clear boundaries because Adrian is known to get far too excited to interact with her at any chance he gets.

18) Beautiful Things I Tumblr I AO3 I

Since Vigilante no longer has to work his shitty busboy job and that leaves his schedule wide open for the rest of the day, he soon finds himself frequenting a quaint coffee shop, not only because the drinks there are good, but because he’s grown fond of the woman working there.

19) The Distraction I Tumblr I AO3 I

Every now and then, Peacemaker has a solo mission. Whenever these happen, Vigilante has to be distracted so he doesn’t make the solo into a duo. The only person that is capable of that is the girl that Adrian hates… No, that can’t be right. He doesn’t hate her, not really. Quite the opposite, actually.

20) The Monarch Hotel I Tumblr I AO3 I

How many times does Vigilante need to get injured before Harcourt finally gives in and hires a medic to help out with the squad’s injuries? Far too many times, that’s how many. When it’s uncovered that a fancy hotel is linked to not only what’s left of the legion of butterflies but also a string of weird deaths and missing persons reports, the only two for the job are lovesick Adrian and the newbie. Will they both make it out of paradise alive?

21) Peacemaker Jr I Tumblr I AO3 I

Peacemaker scrubbed all mention of his kid from his file. But when the butterflies find out about her, he must admit to his team that he needs their skills to find her. Then, Chris really needs Adrian’s help to keep her safe, but he’s concerned that his buddy is going to get far too familiar with his daughter. And maybe those fears are warranted.

22) On The Road I Tumblr I AO3 I

Peacemaker’s mother fled with her unborn child when Chris was a teenager, and he’d always wanted to find his family again. After annoying Waller, he must send his friends out to help save his family, and Adrian finds out that he is more than willing to throw himself into danger to ensure that Peace’s sister is unharmed.

23) Slumber Party I Tumblr I AO3 I

Had Vigilante intended to find the missing mayor’s daughter? No, but he wasn’t going to admit that. He’d completed the 11th Street Kids’ mission entirely by himself and found himself caring for the kidnapped girl.

24) Damsel I Tumblr I AO3 I

Vigilante notices a girl and her not-so-nice boyfriend arguing, and just as the hero is about to reprimand the bad boyfriend, she does something unexpected. When she finds him a week later, they come to learn that they mesh together quite well. Will that chemistry remain when she knows who’s under the visor?

25) Bacon and Bloodshed I Tumblr I AO3 I

When Vigilante came across a crying girl covered in blood, he didn’t expect to have breakfast with her the next morning.

26) Reunited and it Feels So Good I Tumblr I AO3 I

After months apart under witness protection, Y/N and Adrian reunite following the defeat of the Butterflies. Both have changed—Adrian’s lost his curls, Y/N’s sporting new tattoos and a mullet—but their connection is stronger than ever.

1) Joyride I Tumblr I AO3 I

There are three things Jake loves to do at work. None of which are work. One: eating. Two: flirting with his girlfriend. Three: annoying Kevin. At first, he only thought he’d only get to do two of those three options.

2) Part Of The Crew I Tumblr I AO3 I

Kevin’s niece shakes up Jake’s little peanut head in the best way possible. For the first time in his life, he’s nervous to even flirt with a girl because, like, what if he fucks up? That would suck.

3) 95 I Tumblr I AO3 I

A wardrobe mix-up causes Jake’s secret relationship to come to light. Then, when they happen to match one part of their outfit one day, a formal complaint is filed against them.

4) Subconsciously I Tumblr I AO3 I

Jake has never watched the Fast and Furious films, so why can he quote them?

5) On the Same Paige I Tumblr I AO3 I

Jake is preppy and charismatic and dumb and talkative, which is the complete opposite of Beth’s niece. Why do they work so well together then?

1) A Dog On A Leash I Tumblr I AO3 I

Thanks to his attempt at total domination over the population of Evergreen spectacularly failing, Jeffrey was forced to be confined in his room. The only interaction he gets is annoying David whenever he brings his meals in. That is, until another face appears. A familiar face. A face of someone he presumed had perished in the apocalypse.

[elliesglock]

heyyyy i'm back...with us open tea.....

for this to be even legible i'm going to split it into two days. this isn't really in any specific order because im not sure the exact dates.

day 1: coco guaff match

this day......my brain exploded. it literally changed me as a woman. because the way azzi completely just gives herself up and just openly loves on p so much!!!!!!!! i'm obsessed. we really got to see this day how paige takes care of azzi. how she loves her and will do anything for her. the dynamic of p being the gentle woman and azzi being the princess hits like CRACK and it's heavyyyy this day. i'm gonna show yall everything i found on this day.

first of all, azzi shows up to the match in a sweater and p shows up (looking very gay girlfriend coded) may i add in a purple button up and some cargos. there's a few instances where we kinda catch p and a chatting and having a good time. more p than azzi talking we already know. the vibe they give if you walked past them is oh they're such a cute couple! so attractive! and oh baby they are wearing their relationship like a shirt. you can feel the love young and the happiness in the air the way they interact. in one video, azzi is asking p (if i'm reading lips correctly) who won gold. to which paige responds im not sure. just a cute little moment. another small little cute moment....p holding azzi's food while she eats. she just :( she knew:( i love them sue me. p also has a very cute moment where she's all smiley with her phone and she taps azzi on the shoulder to probably tell her stupid little joke. and the way she look so happy to be looking at azzi :( her eyes search her face in a way and yes she's just telling a joke but it gives every time she looks at azzi she takes her all in, like she's a breath of fresh air. maybe im just over reading it but it's such a sweet moment between them. even though azzi's pretty checked out and just nods at p lololol. princess unfortunately gets so hot she takes off her sweater and then it makes me hot- oh who said that. anyways gentlewoman p's senses are def tingling cause she can't give her her jacket or do anything to make azzi feel better. she's like damn i brought my girl to this match and she can't ask for jacket cause she's hot and not cold 😑. now this is where i say the us open showed a lot about their dynamic....azzi seems pretty uncomfortable and is obviously hot. gentlewoman p steps up and decides yeahhhh this isn't gonna work. she literally does everything possible to make azzi feel better. she reaches her hands out to azzi to hold, she lets azzi lean her head on her shoulder, she literally gives her body to azzi so she can be comfortable. i sob and die on the floor. that's where their dynamic plays a part again. the way p knows immediately how to help azzi and make her feel better when she's clearly going through it. i think she's set out her whole life to be the best gf to her azzi. i'm tearing up right this no joke. also i'm listening to daniel caesar that's prob why. in clips ive seen, azzi pretty much spent this whole game either hot or uncomfortable. i know p's like damn. wanted this to be nice for my girl :(. there's an interesting moment and it's truly my favorite moment of the whole us open. azzi is very obv hot and judging by her body language she wants to leave. she seems pouty and gets close to p to whisper something to her. mind u PAIGE HAS ALLLL POINTS OF CONTACT. she's got her hand on azzi's leg, her shoulders pressed up against azzi's (she's prob the reason azzis so damn hot), and she leans down to listen to what azzi is saying. MAKE IT STOPPPPPPP. she could've listened to azzi from afar and just looked straight the match. but no. she's so soft and an active listener to whatever her girl might need. so much so she leans down, takes her eyes off the match, and listens to what azzi is saying. yall already know what im gonna say DYNAMIC!! it seems like now that azzi is not feeling that well she slips into this headspace where she just wants p to take care of her. she's all soft spoken, she's leaning her body into paige, and probably whispering that she wants to get the fuck outta thereeee. but she's safe with p she knows that :(. like yall are not listening to me. she knows p will take care of her and she knows anytime she's upset paige will be there and will keep her safe and make sure she's taken care of. i know what you're thinking. gabi it's literally just a video. but watching their body language. the way p gets so close to azzi, almost like she wants to kiss her head. it almost seems like she whispers to az just to give her a few more minutes and she'll take her home and let her lay in bed with the fan on. oh yall thought that was it? WRONG!

i think being so cramped in the chairs starts to hurt azzi's knee so she moves down a seat to stretch her leg out. (i know p was heartbroken). hence previously i think the reason p had her hand on azzi's knee/leg earlier was because she knew her knee was bothering her and was probably massaging it. GFS. but you know them. you know they're still talking even though they're separated. thank u bench moments. i'm not sure what they're talking about but i'm gonna assume by what paige does next that she was probably worried about a and azzi was being azzi and telling her not to worry. oh so this next part? yeah just die after like i did because.....WTF PAIGE BUECKERS. this bitch reaches over and strokes azzi's face and they just stare into each other's eyes for a few seconds (im so sorry dude next to them). ........! that's all i have to say. i'm at a loss for words. yall do know you are on camera right...? my dynamic agenda. gained 8 points this day. completely loving and gentlewoman p? check. absolutely dedicated to making her girl feel better p? check. DOWN BADDDDDDD AND AFFECTIONATE P?? CHECK CHECK. please bring more affectionate p to the front of the class cause i'm absolutely sick looking at these videos rn. the way she's so gentle with azzi? i could cry right now. like full on tears. how slowly she goes up like she wants to be the as gentle as possible. and the way she holds azzi's face like it's glass. the big three that took me tf out. imo all of this, they truly didn't gaf who was watching. paige wanted to comfort her girl and azzi wanted affection and they were by god gonna do it. who cares who's watching. i like that energy!! keep doing that pazzi! i still can't get over how paige is like mapping out azzi's face. i can see her late at night while azzi's sleeping just tracing her face and her freckles and her smile lines admiring everything her girl is. she has a beautiful woman and she knows it. she's gonna do everything to appreciate all the beauty she has before her. FREE ME PAIGE BUECKERS TAKE UR FOOT OFF MY NECK PLEASE. this was the moment i realized p is truly the most lovingly, lovingest lover girl to ever exist. and azzi hesitates bringing her hand and put it over p's. azzi fudd physical touch agenda gained 80 points. and paige is just looking into azzi's eyes and promising she'll take care of her. I FUCKED DIED. the trust azzi obv has in p cause i would've been like bitch fuck u get me the hell out of here, but they stay and watch coco win and they're all smiley and happy and high fiving people. truly giving the peoples couple fr fr. and they are. the people's couple even gets to meet the coco guaff. so very nations couple of them. i just love it. that pic is so we're gonna put that on our mantel when we have our own house one day coded. and i'm completely over it.

day 2: flicked up pazzi and azzi neon outfit

i'm combining these two because they're not as long as the first one and not as many moments to dissect unfortunately. we were literally fucked by everyone and really only have pics to go off of. i do have a few little video moments.

first of all, holy power couple this day. the way they look like the most lesbian aunties to ever exist. i would totally go over to their house and feel completely safe. their house definitely smells like lavender and their guest rooms has super soft and clean sheets. that's what their giving this whole day. pls adopt me pazzi i'll clean whatever u need me too. they have a little carpet moment and take power couple photos. p and azzi again, have the biggest fucking grins on their face. they literally seem so freaking happy this trip :(. it's like oozing from them. paige looks amazing, azzi looks amazing. i know paige was sooooo geeked this day looking at azzi and the same for azzi. they look incredible. p has her digital camera a lot and from what she posted on insta, azzi was taking a lot of pictures for her :). certified girlfriend photographer azzi fudd btw. we also get the beautiful selfie paige took on her camera. 😍😍. like that's a beautiful couple. if i didn't know them i would wanna be friends with them immediately and have them tell me their whole love story. we get a cute little moment in the stands where p is putting back her camera in her little bag and a goes to help her out. little helpful princess she's cute. i really wish we could've gotten more azzi this day she seemed so full of happiness and so soft with p this day. u can tell by the smiles on their faces this day it's A LOT less hot and more comfortable for azzi this time lolololol. they seem so happy. p has a huge grin on her face the whole time. so does azzi. apparently when p was putting the camera back in her bag it was right after the picture on her insta azzi took of her standing up. there's that. again if i was looking into this completely unknowingly i would think they were newly married. they just have that glow to them. maybe p was hitting it right this trip cause azzi is literally glowing like the sun. after this azzi and paige go and meet the whole scandal and greys anatomy cast. i would just love to see their initial reaction because i bet they both had just the biggest grin on their faces and were so happy they couldn't stay off each other. i can imagine p just being so happy she's jumping up and down and like squeezing azzi's hand 😭 ipad kid ass. they get a picture with the cast. they both seem so happy after this bc i mean they get to have their dreammmmm. getting to meet your fav shows cast and also having a gf that looks as good as azzi does this day. GENERATIONAL BAG.

the day where azzi has the neon outfit and paige is wearing jorts and a tee. first of all the way they're matching??!?!?? brittany are u trying to kill me? we get some REALLTLTLRLEKEIKE sexy azzi pictures that i think paige took. she looks absolutely stunning and i know azzi got a few kisses after p took those photos. they seem tired but happy this day. looks like they wanna go home to their beds and cuddle to sleep off the jet lag together :(. there's a cute little video somebody caught of p yawning and stretching after the game and the way azzi is standing against her? ummmmmm???? she seems like it's her natural reaction to reach up and put her hands under paige's shirt on her waist but she stops herself. they're both chatting and are soooo close im surprised they haven't kissed yet. and the way azzi is looking up to paige when she stretches. again soft azzi was ALIVE these last two days. i truly loved to see it. azzi looked beautiful idk if ive said that. surprised paige didn't just start making out with her right there. i wouldn't have been able to resist. all in all, this day is so soft and cutesy and makes me so happy to be pazzi nation.

in conclusion, the us open changed my life. no i don't mean anything about tennis. pazzi at the us open changed my FUCKING life. i've never been the same. they were screaming i fucking love my girlfriend and we're together forever. p had her moments and azzi had her moments now too. i hope you can see these moments and make out who does what in the dynamic and how sometimes they take turns. i love pazzi and i wish they would come back home. goodnight!!!

also as you always know, i tried my best to find every moment to mention but if missed something pls tell me and i'll add it! thank you! 💆‍♀️

[martyryo]

Okay

I don't do..anons. so yes, just gonna ask this as me‼️ Hello‼️‼️

When

Right okay, I saw your art like the yellow red one right and I saw you talking about your tulpa in that and it took me a second cause at first I thought you were doing a Collab with someone and I was looking for a tagged account or something 😭😭 and then I was like hang on it's not been tagged so it can't be that. And then I saw the hashtag about the tulpa thing and my brain was like, I've heard that term before. And I had, but it was cause of Supernatural. Think the episode was Hell House, either way in that course some kids draw a sigil and don't know what they're doing, spread a rumour and enough people see the sigil and believe the made up story for it to become real. I'm gonna hazard a guess that this isn't what's happening here. Cause 1. No axe murderers are present and 2...idk. suppose it wasn't on accident lol

But basically, what I'm asking is, what's gone on? Like please could you define what a tulpa is cause I'm a tad bit confuseled. I've got a grasp. A jist if you will. But yeh, that, and how it works for you and how long all this has been about for because yeh, the original post confused me a lot and I had no context to understand what was going on lol

Hiii!!!!!

Ok so, never watched supernatural cause I lack media culture, but I looked at the fandom wiki and I assure you it's NOTHING like that 😭

Ik the practice of creating a tulpa comes from buddhism and is related to religion and stuff, but like I found out about it through an online friend back in 2017ish cause they developed one. Needles to say, in these cases we're talking about the western interpretation of the phenomenon that is mainly psychological and not spiritual.

With a tulpa you bascially create a sentient being on a subconscious level that shares the body with you. Please note that this is not in any way related to conditions such as DID, as you do not have the splitting of a subconscious, you actually add more of them into a body. And an important aspect that separates tulpae from alters is that with a tulpa you're fully aware and consensual with having a second person inside the body, you will never accidentally develop a tulpa out of the blue.

To make an example also, imagine there's a wheel with a hamster inside, they represent respectively the body and the subconscious mind that inhabits it. Now imagine there are more hamsters but they're in the same wheel. That's a body with more subconsciouses (I might be butchering this word I'm so sorry).

Needless to say, doing this requires a long trail of meditation, as one needs to focus on everything they perceive out of a person normally (the way they look, talk, move, smell. you get it, everything) and obviously their personality. These things do change with time once the tulpa settles as a stable part of the host's (the one who creates them) life, but at least sketching down the idea of the person that you're creating helps in the overall process.

Ok so. The most important part. A tulpa is NOT evil, and cannot be evil. That's something I found out in the guides I followed at the start of my journey with my first tulpa. They have no reason to turn over their creator cause they are meant to be companions. I'm not super informed on the theory thing now cause I got into it two years ago and since then we've just been living, but there articles online who talk about this so feiughirgh

Now, in my experience Jack came to be part of my life around two years ago, on july 9th. I was going through a weird depressive period where I would not talk to anybody and felt like shit over nothing. During that time I also used to watch fight club a lot, like three times a week, and grew obsessively attached to the characters to the point all I thought about was fc (this feels so weird to remember omg). Anyways, remembered about my friend with the tulpa, and decided to do the same thing. So I got informed on the procedure and gradually managed to develop Jack over time :3

On the 27th of Trevor also started developing, in his case it was Jack that went throughout the major part of the creation process cause I was busy with school, but yeah since then it's been the three of us living life yk.

Also, I obviously got better since that summer, them being with me helped me out a lot and obviously I didn't create them with the intent of getting. Free experimental therapy or some shit. They are part of me and I love them ver very much, knowing that they're always with me brings a sense of sheer comfort in my life. I just love my bros man. Then again, I suck at communication so there are days when we talk less. nonetheless we still interact via concepts or through the headspace (mental landscape where they pretty much live when not fronting).

Oh, also lately we've been aware of the fact that Jack is kinda always fronting (fronting is having control of the body btw kewnkfkgb) during the day when we are in silence at a school or on the bus, while I am the one that keeps the conversations with people (ironic ik). Trevor instead has no interest in the outside world, he just stays in the headspace and works as a mechanic apparently (he doesn't tell me where his workplace is also??? like for no reason at all also, I can't find that fucking place no matter how much I roam around).

Ough ok I know I sound a bit insane saying those things, but that's how it is 💨

With tulpamacy there are so many aspects one can discuss, but again, there are guides online where everything you need to know is explained, and they are explained better than whatever ramble I'm putting down here. I'm not an expert of the field, I just happen to be living it yk.

Sorry for the long and I guess confusing post, there is much more stuff I could tell you about but like. I think this manages to get the overall idea of how we work out 😸

[informaturge]

1 - Keziah had a pretty good idea of which way the wind was blowing the moment Bellara popped out of the bushes with the big eyes and the magitech gauntlet and the absent-minded smart girl vibes. I imagine a silent "oh god dammit" in her head.

2- I have no idea. I am not privy to the inner workings of her mind. Keziah remains mind-boggled that it happened at all.

3 - I think that up until the whole "Rook is trapped in a ghost prison" thing there was a mutual "I like you but we don't have time for this right now" thing going on, but afterward it flipped to "on second thought we might not have time for this later".

4 - Keziah is Mourn Watch. Bellara is a Veil Jumper. They both dig up ancient hazards and put a stop to them. The only real difference is whose closet the skeletons are pouring out of. And how literal the skeletons are.

5 - I mean technically they're both elves, but Bellara is more aware and immersed in elf... stuff, whereas Keziah was basically raised to be a self-aiming gun by ghosts and gravedigger priests. I think they find each other's accumulated knowledge and experiences fascinating.

6 - Something the two of them have in common is a love of learning stuff. I think a lot of their relationship revolves around sharing hyperfixations. Does Keziah know what a manalytic converter is for? No. But Bellara does, and as such it's obviously important, so if she sees one she'll be sure to point it out. Is Bellara wary of Keziah's extensive collection of weird bones and scarification implements? I mean, a bit, but only because some of them are very delicate and others are very sharp. Doesn't mean that they don't talk for hours about the metallurgy of good knife steel.

7 - Bellara is easily flustered and Keziah isn't good at portraying emotions so I think it takes a while before they figure each other out, but once they do there's probably a lot of publoc hand-holding and sitting in laps. Anything more than that isn't really my area of expertise.

8 - I imagine they're known by name by the staff of any decent museum.

9 - I had her on my team for most of the game. And in my head their combat banter mostly revolves around their different approaches to fighting, Bel having all this elaborate mobility and tactical stuff going on with firing angles and magic arrows, in stark contrast to Kez whose entire combat strategy is abusing life-steal and burning health for mana to direct a continuous firehose necromantic laser death ray at anything in her way.

10 - I mean, Keziah shortens it to "Bel" and Rook is already a nickname, but other than that, not really.

11 - Keziah said "Huh. I think I might love you." at the dinner table during a particularly animated group conversation, but her one milky eye makes it hard to tell what she's looking at so everyone assumed she was talking to the cutlery.

12 - "Shut up I'm a genius." Spoken immediately after doing something stupid.

13 - All of my music is horrible crunchy electronic brutalism. Not nearly optimistic enough to associate with Bellara.

14 - I'm pretty sure they bring each other weird shit they find on the ground CONSTANTLY.

15 - Bellara built a god-killing knife out of magic radioactive waste to try and cut a hole in the fabric of reality and drag her love interest out of ghost prison. If nothing else, she was definitely thinking like Keziah to come up with that one.

16 - Keziah knew she'd get out eventually. Even if she had to tear a hole through the Fade's bones with her teeth. The idea that somewhere out there Bellara wasn't smiling and writing her stories was more than enough fuel to burn the place down.

17 - Keziah loves that Bellara will decide she wants to do something and just put her whole ass into it until she has it figured out. Bellara loves Keziah's seemingly unconscious habit of looking at every situation from multiple (sometimes contradictory) perspectives to make sure she knows what's actually going on.

18 - All anyone will know is that the beloved fictionalized serials of their adventures will end with a "to be continued".

Questions for your Rook and their partner:

Does your Rook fall for their partner at first sight? If not, what moment made your Rook realize they're in love with them?

When does the partner realize that they're in love with Rook?

How long does it take for them to officially get together? Did any of the other Lighthouse members have any suspicions beforehand?

Do your Rook and their partner share the same faction? If so, does that affect their relationship at all? If not, what is your Rook's opinion of their partner's faction? What is the partner's opinion of Rook's faction?

Do they have different cultural backgrounds (e.g. a Rook who was raised in Antiva with Harding who was raised in Ferelden)? If so, do they ever share parts of their culture with each other? If they're similar, how do they celebrate their culture together?

What is their favorite thing to do together? Do they share any hobbies? Does your Rook teach their partner their own hobbies? Does the partner teach Rook theirs?

Are they a physically affectionate couple? Are they fine displaying those affections in public or do they prefer to be in private? If they're not, how do they prefer to show their love instead?

What does their ideal date look like? Do they go on much?

Does your Rook bring them out often? How are they like on the battlefield? Do they banter much?

Do they have any nicknames for each other? Who uses terms of endearment more?

Who says "I love you" first? What is the other's reaction? Who thinks it first?

Any inside jokes?

What song(s) do you associate with them?

Does your Rook get their partner any other gifts (besides the one already in-game)? Does the partner get Rook any? Any gifts that are particularly special?

What was the partner's reaction to Rook being imprisoned in the Fade? How did they cope? How did they react upon seeing Rook again?

How did your Rook react to getting trapped in the Fade and separated from their partner?

What is your Rook's favorite thing about their partner? What is the partner's favorite thing about Rook?

When all is said and done, where would they like to retire together? Is marriage in the cards for them? Children? Pets?