#i always end up dropping people just because maintaining relationships is too much so it was going to happen sooner or later

[weisscreamcake]

former coworker/friend hasn’t talked to me since i posted on ig saying if you voted trump delete me and never speak to me again which. hmm.

[sharkiethrts]

hi! speaking of ur modern sunday…i’d like to request sunday x reader, where reader is absent because they’re sick and sunday just spends the entire day trying not to mope before he visits them. just smth rlly silly where he’s on student council etc having to try to subtly text his s/o.

robin is kind of over him but who cares‼️

prompt: highschool!au reader is sick and responsibility ridden Sunday must ensure that the assembly goes on without a hitch, despite his worries for her.

warning: none.

relationships: modern!sunday x gender neutral!reader (highschool!au)

author’s note: so sorry for the late response! I was eagerly awaiting for the day when I can finally work on this! :) (Two more exams to go, exams should end by Friday. Wish me luck!)

This is also not reread and is posted late at night, so do forgive me for any type of grammatical or spelling mistakes or if the pacing of the story is too rushed!

- Highschool au! Sunday is so obviously the president of the student council

- He is popular among everyone and when it was announced that he was running for president, everyone accepted defeat and simply resorted for vice presidents and secretaries roles instead (the surplus of people that signed up for vice presidents that year were daunting, hoping for a chance to work closely alongside him)

- Prior to his appointment as president (which he was rightfully confident in winning), he had always made sure to spend time with you after school (even going as far as to not sign up to any clubs for the michaelmas term after you jokingly chastised him for ‘prioritising Mrs Burns, TA of the reading club’ instead of you)

- However, post appointment Sunday found it difficult to make compromises like so, much to his chagrin- with the added rewards, the necessary expectations would naturally accompany and hence his dilemma:

- Oh, how the thought of you ailed with a cold squeezes his heart so, his hand itching towards his phone every second

- He’s sure that his composure will fall soon and that it’d only be a matter of time

“Please ensure that the seventh up until the twentieth seats are marked, it’s reserved for the parents visiting today,” Sunday reminds the flushed boy, clearly not used to the responsibility he is expected to conform to and although Sunday attempts to maintain a composed facade throughout, it’d be a lie to say that he isn’t positively frustrated by how incredibly slow he is. Seriously, the drink aisle should clearly be placed inside the auditorium, not outside. It’s summer for goodness sake, by the time the guests arrive, the drinks will be diluted with ice and the honey would have been completely dissipated.

Speaking of honey, perhaps he should consider saving some for you. The Manuka honey booked specially for this occasion is known for doing wonders for your throat. Perhaps he should ask kitchen staff to pack a bottle or two for him? They quite adore him so, it shouldn’t be difficult for him to ask for a favour or two of this size. Interrupting his train of thought, it seems that the incompetent boy couldn’t stand having a supervising eye off him for even a second. Sunday watched in controlled horror as he dropped a tray or two, effectively denting the sides of the perfect sliver.

“Miss Amelie,” Sunday calls, his hand reaching for the back of the boy’s waist, helping him up, “Help him with relocating the treats, we can’t have dented sliver wares front and centre in the room.”

The said girl quickly arrives, her head down and stressed, “I’ll tell him what to do, don’t worry-“

“-I should hope that this predicament ends soon, I do have quite a few appointments to attend to,” Sunday cuts her off coldly, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. It’s not uncommon for Sunday to become cold at times, if not outright off putting. With uneducated rumours of his OCD and what not. However, it seems that this doesn’t seem to be one of his tangents, rather, he seems… occupied.

Sunday mulls over the thought of your upset face, further dampening his mood. How incredibly horrible of him, despite his previous talks of marriage with you during your late night calls- he only feels more incompetent and ineligible for the title of husband. He’s not only inattentive but outright unsupportive. What type of boyfriend who asks for your hand in marriage would leave you all alone in your bed fighting a cold alone? His frown deepens and he catches a few of the volunteers flinch due to it, clearly worried that they may have triggered him somehow.

He flashes them a friendly smile, to which he sees them relax slightly to before tending to their duties quickly.

While making haste with the decorations and reading over the script he had prepared for the following speech (god forbid he reads off a script, it’s one his many pet peeves and he is not willing to entertain the thought of slacking off in his chase for perfection), he thinks of your voice when you had greeted him this morning via phone call. Despite your obviously tired disposition, you had taken the initiative to call him to motivate him for the following day, you seem to know him well enough to realise his unending infatuation with your voice (how embarrassing for him but he’s far too touched to care for it for now).

Despite your well wishes and intentions, the phone call left him with more guilt and worries than assurance.

‘I’m fine’, you had insisted, saying that you had managed to snack on cut apples for breakfast.

By the moment Sunday snaps out of his thoughts, he notices a crinkle at the side of the paper where his thumb laid.

He’s not composed at all.

“ Sunday?”

By the time the clock struck ten and the assembly had concluded, Sunday took it upon himself to rent a bike at a nearby bus stop rather than waiting for his driver, hoping to make a quick detour to your house instead (his adoptive father would never have allowed him to do so). He had recognised your address from your first date, where he dropped you off by your neighbour’s house to prevent you from getting teased by your parents (you had insisted and he obliged). Your mother was there to greet him by the door, clearly whiplashed by the sight of a disconcerted, red faced handsome boy standing at her front door. She quickly flashes him a look of familiarity, to which he feels happy at (you must have shown your mother pictures of him, his ears redden at the thought).

He could only hope that you showed her the good ones and that despite your mischievous peculiarity, you’d care enough to help him make a good impression.

“You look much handsome in real life,” Your mother comments when he enters.

Never-mind. You definitely took it upon yourself to show her the worst ones. He could only pray that they don’t include his baby features, where his bangs were chopped short, “I apologise for coming so late, I came as soon as the assembly had finished-“

“- I understand,” Your mother chuckles, “I’m more impressed that a teenage boy would make so much effort to care for a partner with a flu when it’s so close to midnight,” She hands him a glass of warm water, urging him to walk up the stairs to your room, “They’d heal in no time after all.”

He shakes his head decisively, “That’d be an unfitting behaviour for a husband.”

The once vibrant mood turned quiet in no time and realising what he had said, his cheeks flushed a vibrant red and his ears burned incessantly.

Your mother watches him with shell shocked expression, thankfully the glass had been on Sunday’s hand at this point, judging by how her hand had loosened immediately he had blurted the words out, the glass would have been on the floor otherwise. Which would have been unsightly for a first impression.

“SUNDAY!”

He hears your familiar yell, clearly happening upon his arrival and his words.

He had planned to scold you for your misdemeanours (showing your mother terrible pictures of him) but it seems that he had committed a far graver crime than you did: an impromptu proposal at hours so close to midnight.

“… I sincerely apologise. Please pretend you didn’t hear anything.”

Sunday wishes for the concrete floors to eat him alive.

[julianalvarez9]

PLAYING FAIR / RÚBEN DIAS

SUMMARY: Once John had learned that he couldn't assist bernardo's wedding, he had given the responsibility of looking after you to the person he trusted most. but maybe it wasn't the best choice.

PAIRING: stones!reader x rúben dias

REQUEST: What about a smut with Rúben where he takes you to the bathroom at Bernardo's wedding because he couldn't keep his eyes off of you and telling you how much he wants to make you his ?

WORD COUNT: 1.3 k

WARNINGS: smut with a plot, unestablished relationship, unprotected sex, don't know what else (?

you didn't know why you had decided to come to bernardo's wedding when john told you he couldn't make it. of course, you tried to convince yourself that you were friends with ines, -which wasn't completely a lie, so your presence there was justified. no one would have batted an eye if you missed it, so, why had you agreed to come?

the answer was breathing on your neck right now, whispering "you're not playing fair right now" against the shell of your ear, after ignoring you all night. his calloused hands held tight onto your waist to stop you from grinding against him, a special vengeance after he only dared to watch you from afar, only getting closer when everyone else was too drunk to care. that wasn't the case for you, just tipsy, enough to make you forget that half of the people invited here knew you, your brother, and rúben.

turning around, but still in his hold, you crossed your arms annoyed, and he had to maintain his eyes on yours, even if he was tempted to drop his gaze down to your cleavage. "and you aren't?" you rolled your eyes, truly annoyed with his behavior. you had seen him around all day, ever since he arrived looking oh so devilishly handsome as always, and it was killing you inside that you couldn't do anything about it. "with your stupid waistcoat," tugging into the clothing item that was hidden all night under the jacket he decided to wear, until the high hours of the morning. 

your hands traveled from the end of the waistcoat to the top of his shoulders, not without feeling his abdomen in the middle, making rúben hold in a breath. "...and your stupid white shirt," you said, going down the length of his arms, so big and strong as always, and reaching his forearms that were showing after he rolled up his sleeves due to the portuguese heat. you huffed, almost defeated at how pretty he was. "and i'm not pointing out your stupid face".

rúben's brows furrowed at that, not understanding the meaning of your words. pouting, he questioned, "what's wrong with my face?", which made you shake your head and drop it against his chest in resignation. "you don't get it because you can't see yourself".

he grinned with his million dollar smile at the compliment, and you wrapped your arms behind the portuguese's neck. he freezed, for a moment, remembering where you were, but his anxieties seemed to ease when he looked around and saw that everyone around was too engrossed in the music playing, anyways. "you were watching me all night," you deadpan, and he doesn't understand what you meant by the statement until you continue talking, "don't know why you're all worried if someone sees us now".

"i told your brother i'd keep you safe," rúben shrugs, and you groan at the mention of your older brother. you giggle, "you're doing such a good job, clearly", and he has to avert his eyes to avoid the bedroom eyes you're giving, taunting him. "if i was, joão wouldn't even have laid a finger on you". his jaw is locked now, nostrils flaring at the mention of the fellow portuguese who had gotten seated next to you, miraculously, and not, in any way, an attempt from ines to exercise her matchmaking skills.

the sight is just too funny to avoid pointing out, so you're giggling "no way! you're jealous!" before you can think about any other than you two hearing. it has rúben fuming in a way you haven't ever seen before, and it's not long until he's dragging you out of the dancefloor.

"i'm not," is the first thing he says once he closes the door, hard. you look around and realize that you're in the very nice and fancy bathroom of the salon where the reception is held, and rúben gets annoyed about your eyes wandering around instead of focusing on him. "i'm not" he repeats, grabbing your chin forcefully with his fingers, to get you looking straight at him.

"then why did you drag me here?".

the answer was easy, but hearing rúben say it wasn't what you expected. much less, the deep tone he used and the way his heavy breathing ghosted over your neck. "because you seem to be forgetting who you belong to". using the deep cut your dress had to his favor, sneaking his hand under the clothing to cup your pussy, earning him a small breathy moan, "so i've gotta remind you".

the smirk painted on his lips is borderline devilish when he feels how wet you already are. "you wanted this, didn't you?". he lifted you up on the counter, making sure you were close to the edge of it before resuming the heated kiss. he takes your bottom lip between his teeth, pulling away before letting go and you whine in pleasurable pain. "wanted me to drag you here and fuck you? that's what you wanted?".

you can't say yes, because he's overwhelming you in all the best ways, but the way your hips buck against his hand should tell him the answers. your legs are spread wide, granting rúben all the access he could need, and he takes the invitation, slick fingers rubbing small circles on the sensitive bud. you can't take the teasing any longer, so you start to beg for him to do something, and it's not long until you feel him fiddling with the black belt, losing it before pulling himself out of the confinement of his pants. 

your lips never detached from each other, proven to be useful in trapping greedily the moans that escaped your lips and the grumbles that resonated in the back of his throat. "can you be quiet for me?" he asked, and you nodded eagerly, feeling him teasing your folds, coating himself in your juices. you were so wet the filthy noises could be heard over the loud music outside of the room you two were in, but you were too needy for him to care about being embarrassed. "p-please. i'll do what you say".

being dominant was part of who he was, both on and off the pitch. but there was something in the way you looked so submissive underneath him that lightened him up like a flame, burning him from the insides with desire.

he was slow at first, looking intently at the way he disappeared inside you that had you gasping for air until he, finally, bottomed out. he knew you two had to be quick, but he couldn't care less about the passing of time at the moment: there was no way he could last long by the way you were squeezing around him, with his hip snapping against you. "fuck, fuck, i'm not gonna last long" rúben whimpered, forehead pressed against your own, and his rough voice pulled you closer to the edge.

with a particular deep thrust, you're done, falling apart on rúben's hold. he continues to fuck you through your high, and it's not long until his own movements starts getting sloppy as his own orgasm hits him, his warm seed coating your insides.

the cold marble felt nice against your hot skin, keeping you grounded even if you were about to pass out from the pleasure. rúben murmured praises in your ear, telling you how good you did for him, how perfect you were at the same time he was helping to clean you up, and you couldn't be more grateful for him.

a few minutes later, once you had gotten your breath in control and could stand straight again, you said "you didn't tell me why i wasn't playing fair", turning around from facing the mirror once you had finished getting your hair right. with your index finger pointing hard at his chest, you emphasized, "according to your rules, of course". rúben tilts his head back in laughter, and even if you can hear the music louder than before, the giggles that erupt from his mouth can be heard clear as day. "you're too pretty for your own good".

[mayapapaya33]

A Game of You/ Brief Lives

I'm seeing some people complain about Thessaly in such a way where it implies that they think the narrative likes her? Guys, she sucks on purpose lol. I am begging all of you to pay attention in English/Lit class more often. Wanda is clearly the hero of the story, everyone treating her badly are dicks, it could not be more clear. I love Wanda so much. Thessaly should die in a fire lmfao. (the parallels between her and Esther from Dead Boy Detectives are fascinating, I wonder if they ever met?) All the people giving Wanda shit are wrong; Thessaly, The Animated Severed Face on the Wall, the Moon Goddess, her family, etc.

Death, the most level headed, kind, compassionate character in all of Sandman is on Wanda's side. It's generally bad form to read the author's personal stance from one particular character, but Death is as close to a stand in for Neil Gaiman's personal opinion as we are ever going to see in a story as far as I can tell. She is always who he gives the final say to in terms of morality over every other character, very much including Dream. (We also got Barbie being a ride or die, and the disaster lesbian neighbors Hazel and Foxglove being confused but supportive, and the homeless lady Wanda helped talking about her grandson being like Wanda and how dumb it was that people were so cruel and just because some people are different it doesn't make them bad.) Go read it again.

Neil Gaiman literally talked to his Trans friends about their lives and the stuff that was happening to them and then put it in his comic in 1989! I repeat, 1989! (through to 1996). No, the terms and language aren't all going to match up to 2024, Think, please, I beg of you. He wrote Desire as non binary before that was really a thing "Well why didn't he just use They/Them" IT WAS 1989 PEOPLE!!!!!! (the concept obviously has existed for longer, I'm talking specifically about language trends).

(Characters in stories doing or saying bad things to other Characters does not make the Story Itself racist/ sexist/ homophobic/ transphobic/ etc).

I've also seen people talking about Thessaly and Dream dating, again Dream is making poor life choices, as per usual! I think he was initially attracted by her audacity and strength, and her longevity. Him sulking Byronically and inconveniently in the rain he himself creates to be more moody and Goth about being dumped is meant to contrast sharply with the scene after You Know What happens at the end of Brief Lives. He returns home to the Castle and quietly walks through the corridors, being polite and kind to everyone (freaking them out a bit in the process), he slowly washes the blood off his hands, and collapses into a chair to mourn deeply in solitude and silence. No more drama, no more rain, no more epic windswept shots of him staring pensively into the distance, just true sadness. It's almost like his earlier performance about being upset by Thessaly's absence doesn't actually matter that much in the face of true tragedy.

The first is shallow and dramatic, He's the Prince of Stories, he falls in love at the drop of a hat, but he's bad at maintaining relationships. The Drama is inherent to his being. He IS stories. But in the second situation it's more real, he's more real. The Grief is too much to bear turning it into a story. Dream is being forced to face harsh Reality. After all, like Dream said, stories are how we keep ourselves alive, "If you rob them of their Dreams, if you take away their hope, then yes, this is the truth of Mankind." Perhaps it's also the Truth of the Collective Unconsciousness of Mankind? His path forward was set from that moment on.

[obislittleone]

Temple of the Forbidden Eye (2)

Indiana Jones x OC

Series Summary: The relationship between student and teacher is strictly professional, or at least it should be. He’s never met his match in archeological intelligence, and if he ever does, it might drive him to do something stupid. 

A/n: The amount of people who actually read the first chapter veery much surprised me because Indy barely gets enough love anymore but bro I’m so happy y’all liked it and I love this man so I will fr try and update this more often.

Warnings: i don’t even know what counts as a warning for this series tbh… old fashioned ways of thinking i suppose??

(Co-written by the lovely @theatrelove3000 you guys should go give her a follow)

There was a warm wind that swept through her hair as she rounded the corner of the block. She looked back down at her note, tucked into the top of her book. This was in fact the correct street, but it looked so different than how she imagined. Her old mentor described the great Indiana Jones as the world’s most accomplished archeologist, and for all the daring and adventurous stories she’d been told, she couldn’t possibly imagine him living in a quaint neighborhood like this, all lined with picket fences and well maintained front lawns. 

She read the mailboxes, seeing the iron letters hanging on each one, signifying each house’s address, finding the one next to the end of the cul-de-sac and checking the small paper slip once more to confirm that this was the right house. It was older looking, more warm and inviting than the others. It didn’t appear as perfectly manicured as the other cookie cutter houses. It looked lived in. Like a home. the corners of the walls had chipped paint, and water lines from rain. 

Class today had gone the same as always, her professor hadn’t even stopped her on the way out, or in the hall as he was leaving the building. It was just another day for him, as it should be for her. She couldn’t help her nerves though, as she strode up to the front door, ready to knock. Hesitation was only momentary, as a deep breath was inhaled, and she laid three firm raps on the door. 

While waiting for the occupant of the house to open said door, she turned and looked around her on the porch. There were some interesting looking plants that she didn’t recognize as being from this country, or any she’d heard of thus far. They must be exotic, small reminders of his work in the field. She smiled at the thought of his worldly travels, it all seemed so exciting, and she was enthralled to one day embark on such journeys.

Her head whipped back to the door as the old creaking hinges brought her back to reality. Still nervous, she was smiling wide, but her hands were shaking. Calm down, she had to think to herself. This is just a part of your work.

“Hi,” she said in a released breath, holding her hands together to quell their rapid movements. He gave a slight chuckle and smirked. She seemed far less confident here than in the classroom setting. Maybe when she was there she felt the need to prove herself. “I hope I’m not too late, I got a bit lost on the way.”

“You walked here?” he tilted his head, looking around behind her to see if there was at least someone to drop her off. Not a car in sight, or even another person for that matter. She was completely alone… which to him didn’t seem quite safe. 

“Yes, I like walking places,” she mentally cursed herself for such a stupid sentence to come from her lips. She had been working for years to get here, she’d hoped it all wouldn’t be ruined by a few airheaded remarks. Professor Jones did not share the sentiment. Though he thought it sweet and endearing that she enjoyed something so simple as taking walks, he also saw the signs of her nerves the second he opened the door, and figured she’d be more calm once the work began inside. 

“Well, you’re not late at all, in fact,” he held the door open for her to follow him in, shutting it behind her when her feet were on the hardwood floors. You took a moment to look around the entranceway before he stepped forward. “I just got everything set up in the office.”

You looked at the unique pieces in his living room, all from different cultures and dynasties. They were very interesting, but you noted that not one piece in the room was real, only a copy of something he had found in the past. He believed that all precious artifacts belonged in a museum, and he’d be damned if he went along in hypocrisy and kept a rare treasure for himself. That wasn’t part of his job, he didn’t take trophies. 

“See something you like?” he noticed her slowing down behind him, only turning when in his peripheral she wasn’t there. He took in her studious look of curiosity, watching as she gazed from one item to another. “Bet you can’t tell which one is real.” 

She looked at him with a surprised look. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. Of all the days in her life to be flustered and speechless, this should not have been the day. She opted instead not to say a word, but to close her mouth and get closer to the pieces in the room. All she had to do was take into account one thing, and then she was sure. 

“This map,” she pointed to it on the encasing table in the corner of the room, turning back to him with a straight face. 

He nodded, seemingly impressed with how quickly she figured it out. Perhaps she had been earlier trained in detecting markings on old parchment, or maybe she’d learned how to differentiate aged ink from reprinting, she may have possibly even known the map from-

“It wasn’t that hard, it’s the only thing in here covered in glass.”

Well, so much for that. He supposed deductive reasoning was also a good skill, and she was quick on her heels to notice it so fast. He chuckled, smiling genuinely at her now confident and forward demeanor. She was very sure of herself, almost like that of his colleagues. 

“Huh,” he shook his head, letting whatever thought that entered his mind to pass when he did. It wasn’t a bad thought, a very true one, actually. She used common sense to do something that every other student in his classroom would take hours to figure out. She was  intelligent in her studies, but she was also just smart. Possibly a gifted mind like his. He hoped he’d soon unravel all her hidden talents and abilities, as he knew she was already more than just a student in his class. She was dedicated, and confident in her studies like no other boy in his class had ever been. 

“Something wrong?” She asked, her head tilted slightly as her brows furrowed in confusion. She didn’t know if he was impressed, or if she had upset him in some way. She knew better than to speak so plainly with a man in this field, but she couldn’t help but feel more comfortable to do so around his presence. The others would shoot her down, remind her of her place, but he had encouraged her, so why shouldn’t she?

“No, nothing’s wrong,” he shook his head, not sure if he should explain himself or not. It didn’t seem that important, and there was work to be done, so he continued down the hall again, calling out for her to come with him. “Follow me.”

As soon as she entered the room she was filled with a ghastly surprise. The sacred office and workspace of the great Indiana Jones, where he conducted business as well as studied ancient artifacts… was a complete mess. Papers in stacks all across the room, with folders opened to random pages and thrown half-hazardly in different spots. There were even large books, the texts in which broke down great historical landmarks, maps, and hidden treasures of the world. There wasn’t exactly a pattern to which they had been pulled from the shelves, as they didn’t seem to connect with one another at all. 

Her face scrunched up with slight disgust, not expecting to see that her favorite professor was in fact, a slob.

“The plan is to find my paper on Degas Painting. I’ve already started organizing different reports into separate categories; and I think if we work for a few hours we can make some decent progress on finding it.” 

He journeyed further into the room, careful not to step on any papers on the floor. She was still at a loss for words. It was only when he looked up and met her eyes that she had something to say. 

“How can you work with such a mess around you?” She laughed, disbelief covered her expression, and he saw her mind turning the gears within her head. What was she thinking about?

“It may look that way to some, but I know where everything is.”

“Except for your paper on Degas Painting.”

-

Thirteen minutes. He had left her alone to search for only thirteen minutes. There was an important phone call that he simply couldn’t miss, and it lasted for a duration of thirteen minutes. How in that time could she have managed to do this? When he hung up the phone, he walked back into the room, assuming she’d be right where he left her. No, she was not, and how could he have been so foolish as to think that the most intelligent student in his very prestigious class would have sat there clueless without him? 

His eyes were wide, and his jaw was nearly slack as he scanned the room. Not only were all the papers filed away in their respective folders, but they were organized on the desk. Every little thing had been put away, he assumed in orderly fashion. Hell, he took a few steps into the room and saw the paper he was looking for laying by itself on the desk. The bolded letters ‘Degas Painting’ in black ink were clear as day. He’d been searching for it for days, going through stacks and stacks of files to try and recover it for his class. He looked up to you in the corner, scanning the bookshelves as you placed books back where they went. The most noticeable thing he saw? His hat had been removed from his desk, and she wore it on her head. He had half a mind to walk across the floor and take it back, without even saying a word. 

He wasn’t angry, but somewhat irritated that she’d moved all his things, which he’d spent days looking through. He also found it somewhat annoying that his new apprentice was already better at the job than he was. But she’s never been in the field, he reminds himself. 

He huffed a long breath, placing his hands on his hips as he narrowed his eyes at her. She finally turned around, having seen that he came back, and there was a sweet smile laid widely across her face. She was clearly proud of the work she had accomplished, and he’d hate to negate the good work, but there was still the matter of his prized high-crowned sable fedora. 

“That’s my hat,” he pointed to it, his tone more firm, but not aggressive. She would moreso describe it as possessive. 

She was quick to take it off of her head, holding it gently within her hands in an attempt to ease his mind. 

“I’m sorry,” she suddenly felt the need to explain herself, looking around the room in an attempt to avoid looking at him. He got this upset over a hat? “It’s just that, it took up space on the desk, and I didn’t really know where to move it.”

He came up to where she stood, snatching away the hat and placing it on his own head. It wasn’t done spitefully, in fact, she almost laughed at the comedic way he adjusted it after. He must really like his hat, it seemed like his most important possession. He wore it well, she noted that right away.

“You found the paper,” he crossed his arms, nodding slightly to her in thanks, but not giving too much recognition away. “And you cleaned my office.” 

She wasn’t sure if he was still upset about the hat, or if he was genuinely offended by the fact that she had gone outside of her instruction and done what she wanted. She’d hoped he might be pleased with her efforts, but of course, she was probably just assuming too much of her favorite professor… again.

“I promise I put everything away as it was organized, I even put the books back in alphabetical order,” She defended, walking two steps back to the bookshelf and letting him see for himself. This was the best his office had looked in years, with everything being in perfect order like he’d never gotten around to maintaining it before. “I’m sorry that I didn’t ask, I just thought that it might be easier for you-”

“You did good, kid,” he smirked, getting her to stop her mindless rambling. His small nod of approval made her smile, her nerves fading away again as her chest filled with pride. 

He thought she had done good, and with that she was pleased.

-

The small sofa against the wall of his office was practically sunken in by how long the weight had been placed upon the cushions. It had been many, many hours since they sat down to go through the paper and yet neither of them seemed to notice. The sun had gone down ages ago and they had needed to turn on lamps to continue.

At some point in the evening, she had gotten hungry. When she asked if he had something to eat, he responded, "I eat when the work is done." Which… wasn't very comforting as given the state of his office when she arrived, he was clearly never 'done working.' 

Professor Jones had given her permission to go check his kitchen to find some food, but his kitchen was arguably worse than his office. It was perfectly clean, that wasn't the problem. The problem was the lack of food he has. He has a total of three cans of soup, one half of a loaf of sliced bread and a jar of peanut butter.

"Professor?"

He hummed in acknowledgement, not looking up, though she required his attention.

"Are you dead? Or… undead or something?"

That got his attention, "Um… what?"

"Undead. Are you actually alive?"

Doctor Jones was genuinely baffled for a second or two. He’d been surprised by her antics nearly all day, and yet, there was still more to her that came with every word she said. Her joking tone obviously indicated she was mocking him for something, but he was unsure of the reason this time around.

"You're not making any sense,” he paused, finally glancing up from his work to respond with effort. “What are you even talking about?" He sounds a little annoyed now..

"You have nothing to eat," she says, gesturing in the direction of the kitchen. She was sure he’d known this, or at least hoped he did, otherwise her jokes of the ‘undead professor’ may not seem so far-fetched.

"Sure I do."

Lies. She searched high and low in every cabinet and corner of that kitchen. It wasn’t hard to deduce that there wasn’t anything there. It was quite clear to anyone with a half decent set of eyes. 

"No, actually… You don't. You don't have any food. So are you?"

He rolled his eyes, but knew she was probably right. He never went into that kitchen, and barely even remembered to shop for food on a regular basis. He’d always get food from the cafeteria of the University, or better yet, any new place he found on the walk home that looked suitable to his picky taste. 

"Miss Ledger-"

"I know that you said you don't eat until the work is done, but based on the state of your kitchen, I'm assuming that you just don't eat… Ever," she crossed her arms, trying to think of how he could possibly get along on his own. He didn’t seem to be married, or have a roommate, and she highly doubted he found himself in the company of his peers while at home. 

He huffed a bit and tossed the paper on the coffee table in front of him. He looks over at Scarlett, watching her for a moment. She's more… for lack of a better word, mouthy than most women he's met. It's actually nice. Refreshing, even. Not even the male students he's worked with would speak to him like this. It's clear that she knows her value and is happy to be herself, even around authority. Though sometimes annoying, especially right now, he would do his best to encourage that the attitude stays the same, as it would do well for her if she were to continue in this industry. 

"Yes, I do eat. No, I'm not an undead individual. More often than not, I get food in a restaurant or at school. I don't go shopping for it very often," His tone is calm, though dripping with sarcasm at the beginning, "If you are that hungry, I can go get something, but I'm about ninety percent sure there is at least a can of soup in there."

"So you only eat soup when you're at home?"

It was funny to try and imagine him, the world renowned Professor Jones, hovering over a small pot at the stove whilst he stirred a batch of soup from a can in his pantry. She didn’t know why, but it amused her. 

"Or a sandwich."

"Yes, because that's so much better," Her tone matched his, impressing him yet again. There were few people in the world that could keep up with his wit and never-ending sarcasm. She reminded him of himself, so much it almost frightened him.

He sighed a little. Dropping his head to hide the smile, he shakes his head slightly. "I'll eat if you make enough for both of us, since it bothers you so much."

She was almost satisfied… but there was still one fact of the matter that continued to reign true.

"That still leaves the problem of you having no food," her pointed look was enough to make him smirk. He really was impressed with her demeanor. She was relentless, now that she’d been given his approval. He wondered if she would be so forward now, if he had been so reassuring to her efforts before. 

"Just make the soup, there's enough in there. I know that for a fact."

She huffs and turns on her heel, calling over her shoulder, "fine. But I'm going to make you go grocery shopping so you have at least something with protein to eat."

He laughs quietly, going back to his work. When she returns, she has a bowl of chicken noodle soup and a piece of bread for each of them. They continue to work while they eat, and though the silence is deafening, it’s comfortable, and welcomed. 

A few hours later, he catches a movement out of the corner of his eye. She was resting with her head in her hand, arm propped up on the back of the sofa. He turns back to the paper but she moves again. He turns to look at her fully this time and notices her eyes are half closed. Interesting. The movement he was seeing was her nodding off and waking herself back up. He wondered if he had kept her for too long, or if she might be upset that there was so much work to be done. He thought about how dedicated she was, though, and knew she was probably just tired from a long day of work.

Turning back to look at the clock across the room, he realized what time it was. As he went to wake her up, he remembered that she had walked there. He may live in a better neighborhood but that didn’t mean it was safe for a young woman to walk alone at night, and he didn’t have a clue as to where she might live. After thinking about his options for a moment, and taking stock of his own wakefulness, he decided that it was too late for him to drive her home. He set the papers he was holding down, and leaned over to take the ones she had out of her hand. The feeling of papers falling woke her again and she tried to tighten her hold on them, but they were already in her professor's grasp.

“I have a guest room. I’ll walk you up there. Do you need something more comfortable to sleep in?” His voice sounded raspy and tired, even to his own ears. His offer was rushed out, and hadn’t been thought through completely, but she understood well enough in her dreary state.

“I’m sorry, what’s happening?” She reaches up to rub the sleep out of her eyes, sitting up straight again. The sweet and quiet tone she held was such a contrast to her bellaring complaints of his lack of food from earlier. It made him smile to see yet another side of his favorite student. He’d realized by now that she was.

“You are dozing. It’s too late for me to, in good conscience, allow you to walk home alone and I am not in any state to drive you. You are going to stay here for the night.”

As harsh as it sounded, he was right. It wasn’t safe, nor was it in her best interest to even leave the walls of this house at this hour. She, of course, had other thoughts on the matter, having walked home in far worse conditions before, though it was foolish in anyone’s book.

“Oh- No, Professor, it’s alright. I don't mind going home, I don't want to intrude."

"You aren't intruding. I'm offering,” he insisted, taking the papers she tried to retrieve from the table. It was by far the time to call it a night.

"Professor-" She seemed mildly uncomfortable at his suggestion, though it was more of a demand. He doesn’t want anything from her and she could tell based on his demeanor. He just wanted her to be safe and get a decent night's rest. There was no harm in it by any means, but based on how it might look in the eyes of others, she still had to think it through. These may be modern times but there were societal norms and expectations. A young woman staying the night in her professor’s house would not be considered acceptable by any means.

"Miss Ledger, have you ever heard the phrase 'nothing good ever happens after two a.m.?'" He asked with a slanted look on his face, brows raised in suspicion. He made it up on the spot, but still asked for the heck of it, and to hopefully lead her to agree with him faster.

"No but-"

"In my experience, it's very true. It's now two-thirty.You're staying here,” The tone of finality in his voice was more than clear. He wasn’t going to back down and gave no other option than for her to agree. He wouldn’t be able to sleep at night knowing he allowed his best student to walk across town in the middle of the night, while barely keeping her eyes open from the exhaustion that weighed on her shoulders.

She looked at him, then at the clock, and with a heave of her shoulders, she’d decided it was probably best that she stay where it is guaranteed she will be safe. He was renowned worldwide for being a grand explorer, surely he was a better option than the streets after midnight.

“Alright,” she conceded, nodding to him firmly. He noticed she seemed more comfortable now that the subject was put to rest.

“Thank you. I don’t have the energy to argue with you about your own safety right now,” He smiles gently and stands up off the sofa, offering his hand to help her up. His smile, even in her barely awake state of mind, was warm and genuine. She didn’t think he could smile like that, as she’d witnessed too many smirks and side eyes from the man in the last several hours to consider it as a possibility.

She smiled back and took his hand. “To be entirely honest, neither do I.” 

That made him grin. He likes her, more than he would care to admit. She not only reminded him of himself, but also offered opposite attributes. He couldn’t wait to work alongside her on a project, for he felt their personalities and skills would compliment the other perfectly. 

Gesturing with his arm for her to go first, he let her walk out of his office then led her through the house. He opened the door to the guest bedroom, which she saw was perfectly clean, if not a little dusty. He leaves her for just a moment and comes back with an old shirt and pair of sleep pants he hadn’t worn in a long time. He gives directions to the restroom before bidding her goodnight and heading to bed himself.

When he woke up the next morning, he had hoped to bid her a good day, but the door to the guest room was open, and peeking in, he saw no sign of her, but the bed was perfectly made and the clothes he gave her were folded and sitting on the end. She had even dusted off the surfaces. 

He was only slightly upset to find that she had left so early, for the signs of her being there were clear, and he felt he could get accustomed to the look of it.

-

Tags: @justanothersadperson93 @sparklytoaster

[stormyweaver]

Lots of venting below, but sometimes it's hard for me to jot it all down in my journal. Plus it's my blog so I can post whatever, fuck you.

Last night was... difficult. I think I slept 3/4 hours, which is about an hour less than I usually do. My mind just wouldn't stop racing.

I don't know why I feel so isolated in every space I inhabit. I know parts of it (my difficulty with trusting people, feeling like I'm never 'authentic' enough, trying to make my personality palatable to EVERYONE and then feeling like a husk at the end of the day) but I've noticed a pattern that's very disturbing to me.

I never speak up for myself. If something bothers me, I never say anything. Until I do. And it either comes out in a way that's civil, or I just completely blow up.

But it seems no matter WHAT way I say it, me speaking up for myself almost always ends in losing that friendship/relationship/etc. I let go of basically my biggest friend group this year because I expressed feeling left out, and was given verbal reassurance that that wouldn't happen - and then it did happen.

Ever since then (late May?) I've basically felt like I can't maintain any kind of friendship or relationship with anyone. I get triggered at even the perceived notion that someone doesn't want to be around me. I make friends at work, but then those drop off too, even when I'm giving all the effort I possibly can. I see people with friends and I get so viscerally jealous and hate myself for not being able to have that with more people.

I am so grateful for the friends I do have, the majority being on here. But there's a part of my brain that constantly tells me 'You're one bad take or one wrong joke from losing them'. That doesn't seem normal to me. I want to ask my therapist about it, but now that I'm starting this new job, and her latest slot is typically taken, it's hard to get an actual bi-weekly or even monthly appointment down.

When we did have our (short) introduction meeting, she asked me who my support system is, and I couldn't really give her a definitive answer. I don't really have anyone in my immediate area to rely on. It's literally just me, and the friends I have online.

I try talking to my dad, or my sister, or my paternal grandmother and it feels so empty and hollow bc, while my sister can at least empathize with me, the other two will just say 'Praying for you!' and send me like, 25 dollars. I don't... I don't want money? I need a support system. And I don't know how to express that. I don't know how to express to the people in my life that I'm so jaded, and anxious, and depressed, and miserable that I can't even sleep at night with how rapidly my thoughts are racing, with how negatively I think and react.

I've been trying so hard to come to terms with the fact that maybe I'm just broken. That I'll never have a 'normal' life and a 'normal' thought process. But I feel like there's a difference between not being or feeling or thinking 'normally' and feeling like I'm being punished for every time I don't adhere to what everyone else says I should be doing.

The only thing that gives me any real reprieve is journaling, writing and reading. But I've become such a solitary creature over the years. Even when I try to befriend people who I live with, or work with, or go to groups with... it's like I can't get my own head out of my own ass long enough to make a genuine connection. Or I get ghosted.

I don't know how to figure any of this out. I don't know how to re-program my brain so it stops sabotaging every little chance I get at happiness. I don't know how to express how I feel without crying and sobbing because my emotions hurt so much to even convey to my therapist.

I'm so angry and sad and insecure and afraid. And I'm so, so very tired.

[broodwoof]

okay, been thinking about the particulars of my post-game worldstate. so yeah, obviously major spoilers for the ending of davg here

nessa and solas have a child together, revas; because of this, nessa can't up and join him in the fade. rook is close with him and they end up with both nessa and solas (and bellara!) (poly chaos for everyone!)

now, my rook stays in the lighthouse. not all the time, but that's become their home. they've been with two clans - a dalish clan they were born into and are still close with, but left evenutally to pursue their own iteration of faith; and the red vallaslin clan which worships the forgotten ones, which they are less close with but felt like the right answer for a while

then they heard about the veil jumpers and felt like maybe they'd get answers that way, so joined them. while i haven't fleshed them out much, i know that they have meaningful connections to people in all these different groups, connections that they maintain. but all this jumping around has left them without a real singular sense of home. the route their clan took and the aravels are familiar to them, a warm childhood memory, but they don't feel like home; the more settled and secured base of the red vallaslin clan is familiar, but not homey or welcoming; the veil jumper camps are comforting, but not homey, either

but the lighthouse... unintentionally, surprisingly, that began to feel like home for them

so rook stays, and uses the eluvian system to travel quickly and easily wherever they're needed. or just where they want to be. they can visit their dalish clan, they can keep in touch with a few of the red vallaslin clan members, and ofc they can keep close with the veil jumpers

but the lighthouse is in the fade. as is solas. solas, who daw - my rook - has a complex relationship with, yes, but is also close to. solas means a great deal to them. so that's another small factor for wanting to stay here

and eventually, nessa visits. and nessa sees where her vhenan spent so much of his life. she sees where he studied the anchor he took from her. she sees where he was with his people and where he was isolated. she sees the murals

it takes time. a long time, probably a few years, but eventually she asks daw if she can come stay for a while. of course she brings revas along. and revas loves it. she's in the fade! she's a young mage living in the fade and playing with wisps. so "a while" ends up being longer and longer, until eventually daw, nessa, and revas are living in the lighthouse full-time

but none of them are stuck in the fade! nessa visits her friends from the inquisition. morrigan and kieran come to visit them in the lighthouse, usually staying for a while each time - the lighthouse always has room for them, after all

and bc solas is also in the fade, he can visit them. can't always be pulled from his work to do so, and for a while he just doesn't because he doesn't feel like it's right, but eventually, hesitantly, he returns. and he is welcomed. by everyone

he kinda expects nessa will welcome him. he's not sure how much revas will remember him. he's like 90% sure the caretaker will be fine with him. but rook... he can't imagine coming back to rook after everything

but daw has had all this time to work through their feelings. and there are still many sharp edges, many pains that will never go away, but they've made mistakes, too. so when he comes for the first time, they welcome him. so he stays for a few days. revas does remember him, although her memories are a little fuzzy, but he gets to reestablish his relationship with his daughter - and he always looks so happy around her, so at ease, his pain dropping away for a moment

he still has his duties. he will always have his duties, old and new; these define him, these are how he defines himself. the salve to regret is in making new choices, taking new actions, that he can take pride in. so he can never stay long. but time is different in the fade. travel is brief, when one knows how to navigate it. so he pops in regularly, sometimes only able to spare a few hours, but usually a few days. he's making progress. and sometimes when he's at the lighthouse he confers with everyone else, invites their ideas, their theories, their answers to his questions. he learns to trust

nessa cannot go with him. someone always needs to be there for revas. but every once in a while, daw will travel with him, will help him with something. they are not a mage, and sometimes he needs a mage, but both daw and nessa have mages they can ask to help. but when he just needs a helping hand, daw offers without reserve

and he doesn't understand. he doesn't. but he accepts it. because it is freely offered. and because he knows he cannot do this alone

also ik i kinda mentioned and then dropped bellara but i'm still figuring out where she fits in with all this! bc she loves daw, and i think she'd grow to appreciate nessa and revas, but ik she has mixed feelings about solas. i'm not forgetting her this is just an in process hc 😂

[americanrecord]

u totally should nott have told me u like answering these kinds of questions lol bc u set me offff 😭 i just have so many!! like this rewrite is genuinely the thing i’m most looking forward to and i’m not kidding))) since we’ve already talked abt the boys..fuck the boys…the girls are where it’s at!! inez and val’s relationship, is it gonna be any different? how are the altered personalities going to mesh/interact? so fun! love, always

omg girl, that's what i used to all day, everyday, on my old blog until like the beginning of this past summer! i love talking about the writing, characters, etc <3 and it always tickles me to know that people care enough to ask. i do feel like i know enough about my universe at this time to answer most things too, whereas a lot used to be shrouded in mystery back on the other side of things.

but, anyway, fuck the boys fr. this is true, i only care about the girls. as for inez and val's relationship, it's not too different. i would say they actually retain some of the most similarities. the plot rises and falls the same way for them in book 1 as it did with the og. but their dynamic is a bit different. firstly, not that it impacted too much, but i did drop valerie's old crush on inez, solely because i didn't really want to have two pairs of best friends with romantic (requited or not) history. it would feel repetitive and not as special, and dean and lex's past relationship definitely impacted an overall plot to a greater degree. so that "having a crush on inez" void in val's past was just filled by an ex-gf who's mentioned from time to time and may or may not make an appearance later on.

other than that, let's see...

well, firstly, inez does gain what i believe was my biggest grievance with maintaining the character of jill: a backbone. she retain's jill's know-it-all sense, but it's infused with a certain confidence (stubbornness) that jill lacked. she doesn't keel over when told, and while still a kind-fronting person, she does have that mean streak that is backed up by her ability to hold her own. it just makes her more of a difficult presence when valerie and lex get going, because she not only objects, but really means it (there is also a bit better of context surrounding her feelings on lex) and pretty much does everything in her power—too much—to try and interfere with their relationship in the name of "knowing what's best for valerie." and we all know how valerie feels about people who think and act like they can make decisions for herself better than she can.

valerie, on the other hand, has softened a considerable amount. i really liked where she ended up toward the end of the original work, where she was very sensitive and introspective, so i sort've worked my way back and implemented this from the beginning. i thought it was much more realistic a characterization for somebody with her type of trauma, and it's also in line with her [currently undiagnosed] OCD, which in general has her pretty tense and vigilant at almost all times. her obsessions and compulsions mostly start out revolving around the fear of contamination, and that combined with her deadly catholic guilt just keeps her very particular and maybe not the easiest to get along with unless you're willing to put the effort it. not many people are. inez is one of those people, however, so she's quite protective over her and is very in tune to all of her various needs, maybe to the point where she's not ready to accommodate the idea that somebody else is also down to be the same. valerie also suffers from chronic loneliness due to her night shift and initial isolation from the music sphere, which inez does not (she's friends with everyone in the band and even other bands sans lex at the story's start), so that also contributes to their eventual explosion. valerie is lonely and finds lex/wants connections beyond the one she has with her best friend, and inez is super protective over her and doesn't realize that she has what valerie wants (romantic/sexual/platonic connections galore). i think it makes sense that valerie ditches the moment she senses that rapunzel/mother gothel thing she felt with her mother with inez.

THAT being said, they're still besties despite their clashing work schedules, and they do recover by the end of the story. details to be seen in the story itself... <3 i mostly think these character differences make so much sense and still thankfully create a similar dynamic. valerie spent her whole childhood being repressed so that she's sort of internalized that docility and struggles to like, break from it? which is what makes lex so exciting, and then inez—who, while free of a traumatizing childhood, did grow up with four other siblings and was frequently talked over/reduced to the "baby sister" so that she wants to make sure her voice is always heard and essentially does just that. whether or not she's right isn't always what's important (sometimes she is), it's just that she can be a bit stifling with valerie's freedom in book 1, which is a lesson she has to learn. (where valerie then has to learn that sometimes people looking out for you has a purpose and they're not just doing it to do it.)

see, the best thing about rewriting is having the whole story in ur head already so that you're not just sorta winging it as you go and hoping the pieces connect. now, i can actually defend the plot and the characterizations, and they feel so much more cohesive! i love them, and i love their new versions more than i do their ogs <3 they feel even realer.

so, thanks for asking! and please know that i will accept every question always. i clearly love talking, and i love distractions from my boring ass internship even more. also -- if beta-reading the rewrite is something you're interested in, let me know! it would probably be the quickest way to see it because who knows what the battle of publication will look like! just message me or something if so <3 i think i have room for one more!

[analiavs]

Some headcanons for dol villians

(Long)

Briar

Like Whitney would pimp out their partner and has mean girl energy.

I think he’s a bored hedonist, think picture of dorian grey.

Down for anything in the bedroom as long as the partners hot or novel enough (He broke the fucking machine after taking it for “inspection”)

S rank seduction, dance, and all the other assorted sex skills. Sometimes likes to tease his partners by acting submissively, but he’s a total dom (mainly for appearances). And punishes people who “lose the game”

Leighton

He’s either a rich/preppy type whose always been abusing his power over others or was a kylar in school and now takes revenge/likes to feel powerful over his current students (either way a pathetic loser)

Got bullied by the other villians in school. Still gets bullied by Briar at the brothel.

Nobody likes him except for his dog. If its a dogboy/girl has a questionable relationship with it.

Was divorced because his wife found out just what he was doing to his students, but he pulled strings and got her sent to the asylum before she could blow the whistle.

Has blackmail on all the teachers (even or except winter depending on my mood)

Has pathetic sub with a humiliation kink energy, and overcompensates with people he feels he has power over

Bailey

Him charging his adult wards is part of a conspiracy to make sure none of the young blood can afford to leave the town. (the town also has you can walk forever and end up back at the start energy.)

Something lotus door, something lotus-eater adjacent entity.

Part of the big conspiracy that really runs the town, keeps the fog of degeneracy going. Does the twilight thing where he pretends to be a young adult every few decades

Because of that I have reasons to believe he’s a freak in bed, but wouldn’t bust it wide for just anyone

Used to stick by Eden for protection.

Has been to prison energy but as the mastermind he must be phenomenal at getting charges dropped

Remy

My beloved size queen.

Has his favorite cows, but wouldn’t violate his principles without outside influence

Gets jealous easily

May or may not disguise himself and enjoy the biggest schlongs at glory holes and cruising spots

Horse boy/girl

Best horse rider in town

Has spent thousands of dollars on luxury dildos

Has several sex rooms in the mansion

Has a fat ass… fyrom all the riding

Middle aged twink

Is a bottom, hates that

Harper

Used to experiment on other students. Ended up in the asylum when the then science teacher reported him. Leighton was like we can use this and pulled strings to get him out. Freeing him to be the menace he is now.

His diplomas are riddled with spelling errors and forged onto plain paper.

Modded out his dick

If given the opportunity he may be the only person in town that could genuinely work with the entity, because he has no ulterior motives/external drive

Inhumanly strong

Not very charismatic, off-putting, has a vague chemical scent. Only made it this far because of his utility for the bigger players

Could take over the town if he wanted too.

Quinn

Loser. Thought giving up his cheeks for power was a good exchange (press x to regret)

Keeps antagonizing the various entities trying to get more power. If his cheeks weren’t so good he’d have ended up like Kylar’s parents. Bailey threatens him with it sometimes.

More of a puppet for Bailey than anything (press x to regret)

Knows everything going on, but doesn’t have real power to do anything. Probably corrupt enough to not want to change anything

Has gallons full of well cared for tentacle babies (another reason why the entities keep him around). Soon to include wraith babies. Usually wears belly hiding clothes

Spends way to much time in the tentacle realm when he should be mayoring.

Either a shitty mayor or Bailey refuses to allow him to fund public works (thus maintaining his fogs influence over the town) rich pc leaves him with no excuses regardless and he got reamed for it

🌚

Regrets his life’s decisions but enjoys tentacles too much to give up his position

~some of these have probably be debunked but they’re fun to imagine regardless

[ravenkinnie]

oh of course! I don’t think my question I too personal but it felt weird to just drop it on you without making sure it’s ok. Of course that doesn’t mean you have to reply. Please just ignore this if you think it is too personal. You are the only other person I „know“ with bpd and you always seem honest so I thought maybe you’d have some perspective on this.

So I have a new partner and they have bpd. We are really open about it and they taught me a lot. Recently they have been asking me a lot if I still love them and told me they have been feeling very insecure even when they logically know my feelings won’t just change overnight. They told me to look up „fp“ and how that was the intensity of attachment they had towards me. Now I really fell down a rabbit hole with this (especially on tik tok) and there are some people (with bpd themselves) who suggest people shouldn’t „feed“ this sort of attachment too much. Not ignoring the other person or rejecting them but setting clear boundaries and not reassuring them every single time. They said in the long run this would help them detach themselves again so they become more rational and less likely to act impulsively.

Ive talked to my partner about this and they said it sounds reasonable but difficult to handle for them as well. In the end we decided as long as we communicate openly it would all be ok.

Now that was like a month ago and lately my partner has become really detached. They won’t talk to me and when I caught them crying they told me to leave them alone. Now I know it’s not cool but I asked their friend if they knew what was wrong and they just said my partner has been feeling like it’s hard to maintain our relationship lately. Basically as I understand it they don’t feel loved enough but they also know those feelings aren’t rational and feel guilty about them.

Now of course you aren’t a therapist and my question isn’t really about this situation because that’s between me and my partner but all of this just made me wonder if there even is a universal way to support someone with bpd. I absolutely love them but more often than not it feels like both trying to connect more and keeping my distance is hurting them. And it’s starting to hurt me as well.

How do you as someone with bpd feel about the balance between closeness and detachment? Can it really work to try and „make them“ love you less so they can more easily handle a close connection in the long run?

Im sure of course there isn’t a one answer fits all but sometimes I feel like no matter how much I read about it I don’t quite understand how bpd affects the way people think and feel.

Im sorry again if this too personal and too much. Regardless of if you answer or not I hope you’ll have a nice weekend :)

tbh there's no general answer to this, people are just different. everyone experiences different parts of bpd differently and the way they navigate these things in relationships will differ. the thing about bpd attachments is that they are just not stable lmao and that makes forming relationships v hard because it feels like you can't control those emotions. I've experienced splitting in relationships before and it's a very difficult and crazy thing to experience and explain because you know its not rational but that doesn't mean that you can stop feeling these things. and honestly maybe it's controversial to say but there's a point where you have to accept that maybe recovery means not being in relationships like this for a while - not not forming connections at all but maybe not committed relationships like this because you need to reach a point of recovery where you can handle these things by yourself to some extent before you can learn to handle it with a partner.

now I'm not a bitch to be telling people whether that's something they should do because I've been in relationships continuously since I was 19 so I'm not the brightest example hshshsjsk but personally, one thing I learned is that you can't form a healthy attachment in a relationship until you can learn that you can be okay by yourself, whatever that looks like. I think it can look like a detachment but I think of it more like independence that allows you to rationalise those bpd feelings because you can handle that fear of abandonment better.

that's why I also don't like framing bpd as loving too much or sth, like forming this independence is not loving less, I don't love my girlfriend less now than I loved someone before her just because I feel more like my own person in our relationship and set boundaries that don't rely on needing to be dependent anymore. if you want to work on a healthy relationship despite issues that will pop up because having a disorder that fucks you over constantly will create friction, you need to work on your own identity and separate stable personhood too on top of emotional regulation that helps with mitigating issues related to splitting etc

[oftomorrow]

// This Smallville rewatch has once again reminded me how absolutely insufferable Clark and Lana's relationship becomes to watch after a while, despite them being pretty good to start. And I still maintain that the core problem is the showrunners' refusal to let the relationship progress. They feel so stagnant for so long, especially for a pairing that the entire audience knows isn't going to be endgame.

The first three seasons actually move their relationship at a pretty good pace. In season one, Clark and Lana are just getting to know each other, with feelings clearly starting to develop, but Lana is already dating Whitney. In season two, Whitney is out of the picture, and the two of them are gradually putting together what they want, until they finally begin dating towards the end of the season... until Clark puts on the Red K ring and runs away to Metropolis for the summer.

In season three, once Clark is back, Lana knows by now that he is keeping something big from her. She's not stupid, and she has standards. She draws the line in the sand that she won't be with someone who won't trust her completely, and Clark is reluctant to put her in danger by telling her the truth. They're already starting to go in circles this season, but it's something the characters are all aware of and getting frustrated by. Ultimately, the season builds up to Clark having to make a choice -- Lana will stay if Clark opens up to her, but if he still won't, she is leaving Smallville.

And this is where the show fucked up. This limbo of questioning whether Clark will tell Lana the truth cannot last forever, but the writers drew it out anyway. We have three more seasons of will-they won't-they, getting together and breaking up, Lana getting new boyfriends that are each more terrible than the last, Clark actually becoming a complete asshole because at this point there is no good reason for him not to just tell her besides the writers not wanting it to happen. By the time Lana does find out, watching them has become so exhausting that you just don't care anymore. The characters have both become the worst versions of themselves, at least with regard to each other.

(This also does a huge disservice to Clark and Lois' relationship, since they can't properly get that started until Clark and Lana's romance is completely resolved. That only leaves two and a half seasons for anything romantic to develop, and it feels rushed as a result.)

I firmly believe that whatever decision Clark made in the season three finale, to tell Lana or not tell her, should have been it. Either way, the relationship should have been resolved by the end of season four at the latest. If Clark decided not to tell her, as it happens in the show, then that should have been that. Lana goes to Paris, and frankly, I would just write her out of the show at that point, or at least drop her to a recurring character. Her history with Clark would make it very tricky to keep her around full-time without ever letting her find out the truth. It would be sad to see Kristin Kreuk go, but better let the character leave on decent terms than drag things out for so long that she becomes insufferable.

But I think the alternative would have been far more interesting. Imagine if Clark did decide to tell Lana the truth, and she stayed in Smallville to be with him. In season four, Clark and Lana are just together, the way they've always wanted to be, with no secrets. And then, over the course of the season, the two of them learn that they are just fundamentally incompatible as people. They have different goals in life, they see the world differently, etc. Or maybe Lana realizes that she cannot be the support Clark needs in his life, that this lifestyle does not work for her -- and Clark loves her too much to make her stay in a relationship that's not a good fit. And in the end, the two of them decide to part ways on good terms, knowing that they will always care for each other, but they simply aren't meant to be. The season ends with Lana going off to Paris the way she planned a year prior, and at this point I would again either write her out or drop her down to a recurring character.

I like the second one a lot more because it's more interesting, but also, Smallville is fundamentally a show about growing up and learning your place in the world. And one of the hardest lessons to learn is that sometimes people just aren't meant to be. Sometimes if you love someone, the best thing you can do for them is let them go, and accept that their happiness may not involve you. I dream of a world where we got another version of Smallville, where Clana doesn't make me want to tear my hair out in the end.

[superloves4]

I still taste the past - Chapter 5

Relationships: Curufin/Finrod, Celegorm/Aredhel (background) Summary: Finrod wanted to see Curufin, get his closure after all they had gone through, end things once and for all. What he gets is a journey through the memory of where they've been and the choice of where they will go. TW: none. A/N: This is not much chapter but I realized I didn't establish that Tyelko knew, so you guys will have to bear with this! Next chapter should be up either in a few hours or in the next two days, depends how eager I get!

Masterlist - Also on AO3

"You should have worn a higher collar"

Curufin choked and almost dropped his hammer.

Tyelkormo gave him an unimpressed look before handing him a handkerchief "If ammë asks you how was the hunt you tell her we were only able to track one stag for now," he sat in a nearby chair "You should be grateful Irìssë corroborated without many questions, made it way easier."

"Thank you." Curufin blushed "Is it really that noticeable?"

Tyelko gave him a look of pity.

He sighed and tied the handkerchief to his neck, at least after this project was finished he'd have the perfect excuse to change. He had to remind himself to tell Findaràto to not leave such visible marks next time.

"I thought you said you were going to end things."

Curufin looked at his brother, Tyelkormo wasn't judging him per se, but being the one covering his escapades since this one day when he'd returned late from one of his and Findaràto's chess games, his brother had been far more privy to Curufin's mind than anyone in their family.

"You could just accept his proposal, you know?" Tyelko shrugged, but they both knew there was more to the situation than two people in love.

"Has Irìssë told you anything about uncle?"

Tyelkormo leaped from his seated and analysed some of the instruments he'd left by the workbench. They remained in silence for a few moments before his brother handed him the tongs, their father's teachings ingrained into their mind.

He didn't look at Curufin as he said "She told me that things are tense in their household but nothing more that that."

But. It was always but now. Findaràto thought he could fix every problem by loving the issues away but Curufin saw the strain it was putting on all of the branches of the house of Finwë. On the surface nothing seemed too different but Angaràto and Aikanàro were spending more and more time with Findekàno than with them, in turn Maitimo seemed to talk less and less about his friend, and Tyelko and Irìssë were in a constant stalemate.

Tyelkormo sighed "I think you're making a mistake."

"I can pretend for now," he shrugged, submerging a the blade he was making in water.

Pretending, was that really what he and Findaràto were doing?

"Pretending you don't have terrible taste in men?" Tyelkormo grinned then, hoping to alleviate the tension "I miss the days I could have a decent conversation with my brother you know? Now I have to bear your lovesick face because Findaràto is out entertaining a guest."

Curufin sneered "I'm not lovesick!"

Tyelkormo placed his hand on his head, dramatically leaning back while holding onto the anvil "Oh, no, whatever shall I do, Findaràto is out entertaining some distant family friend or something, I won't have to wear high collars for the next week!"

He slapped his brother with a towel, face bright red "I'm not like that!"

"If you weren't, you wouldn't have minded." Tyelko grinned and winked at him "Also, ew, for making me say that by the way."

"You did it all to yourself."

"Yeah! Because of you! Therefore it's your fault."

"What are you, twenty?"

"Well, someone has to maintain their youthful glee, lest I turn into a joyless prune like the rest of you, brother."

Curufin shook his head, but he was smiling and Tyelko thought that was enough.

[mistyyyroses]

The matcha leaves a slight bitter taste on my tongue, but it’s not unpleasant. In one direction, the sun is so bright it’s blinding. In the other, it softly illuminates the furniture on the patio. I came here to study, but ultimately ended up people-watching. There are two men sitting at the table in front of mine having a conversation. One of them has a foreign accent, probably European. He’s talking about getting his citizenship soon. Behind them, two little sparrows hop along the ground and peck at it, probably scavenging someone’s tragically dropped pastry.

Another sip of matcha. More bitterness. I can hear a group of high school? college? kids having a conversation. They speak in excited tones, the kind of tones you only speak in when you’re with your closest friends. It must have rained recently. Patches of the ground are wet, some water pooling in the uneven dips of the asphalt. The table I sat at outside is slightly wet and I had to carefully place my items on the table and bench. The smell of diesel wafts by as big, loud trucks rumble by. I sneak a look at the stickers I just bought from the coffee shop’s store. A progressive pride flag and a rainbow sticker with the words “you belong here”. Why did I get them? I want people to know I’m a safe person. I want to be that safe space for people like me. Will it make me a target? Would someone come after me simply for outwardly supporting my identity? I don’t know why this concerns me so much. “You belong here.” A message I strive to ensure others know because this world is cruel. Do I belong here? I have a bad habit of being painfully hypocritical. Objectively, if I observe from a third-person point of view, I do belong here. I have just as much a right as anyone else to exist and belong here. I’m someone’s daughter, someone’s friend, someone’s family member. But that feels like someone else. When it’s just me, I’m not sure I belong. Too much happens in my head to be considered normal, I think. I don’t think it’s normal to be thinking in as many circles as I do. Maybe my problem is that I detach myself too much. No, I know that’s my problem. No matter how many people tell me I’m worth it and belong, it never clicks. It feels like they’re talking to someone else. Who? I hear it, but I don’t. Even as I write, I don’t feel fully present. I’m just kind of observing and letting whatever I think fits appear on the screen.

The sun’s moved. I had taken my jacket off because of its heat but now I’m starting to feel the chill of the day. It’s 51 degrees but it’s near the end of January. I find myself paying attention more to who I find myself looking at. If I see a man my age, I ask myself if I find him attractive. Objectively? Or could I see myself in a relationship with one? How can I know? It’s too much to try to think of. I think I’ll just stop thinking. That sounds like a good solution.

The birds are back. There’s six of them now, all hopping around searching for scraps. I kind of wish I could have one as a pet, which is a stupid thought because how could you maintain and upkeep a damn sparrow? They’re tiny and probably hate being held. It feels like I’ve spent my time here. People have entered and exited, and they close in two hours. Not that two hours is close, but I really hate to be that person cutting it close. I always hated it when I worked in food. Am I too considerate? I always think about how something will affect others or how they are feeling. Is that bad? It’s not bad to be considerate, right? I never want to make someone feel bad, especially if they’re my friends. It’s like one of my worst fears. Sometimes I have dreams about not liking someone’s birthday present to me and dismissing it and them being sad over it. It literally almost brings me to tears. Why does it bring me to tears thinking about how someone feels after I don’t like something they gave me? I think I would cry if I saw someone visibly sad over something I did, genuinely. Not in a joking way as friends do. I don’t know where this is going, but I think I should pack up. Maybe get those stickers on my car. I hope someone sees it and knows they belong. 

[writing-good-vibes]

[@alxlxlx ahh replying with a reblog because my thoughts got away with me lol and you never have to worry about writing too much to me, i eat it up]

thank you so, so, so much for your replies !! it's very interesting hearing other peoples thoughts so i don't get too much of an ego while i'm in my corey echo chamber hehe ahhh i'm so happy you liked dead men and holy water, those are some of my favourites from my own writing too !! (though i'd be lying if i said i don't have a special soft spot for all of my fics lol)

sometime i wonder if i've mischaracterised corey as emotionally unstable as i make him out to be, but i do maintain there is canonical evidence for these mood swings. although many instances of his unstable moods are preluded by intensely stressful or traumatic events, i do think it's interesting how he does tend to have either disproportional reactions or sudden switches in feeling. you're so right, he really is a timebomb -- especially post-accident when he went into shutdown, all his emotions resurface in violent or amplified ways.

if these reactions and character traits are maintained (and likely heightened) by corey's post-ends life, then i think the road trip events fits with what he know about how he might act. corey is a new man now, he's in charge of his own life -- when he feels like he's losing that control, it feels like the end of the world all over again.

holy water

in the flashback, corey's at the low end of his emotional metronome (a brilliant phrase, you nailed it), he'll bounce back soon enough, hitting a manic high later, but for a while the world really is ending because he doesn't feel in control. because he feels small and alone.

even though joan was awful and abusive, she was all corey had for a long, long time -- and things weren't always bad. sometimes she was nice and kind, and held him while he cried or she'd stroke his hair while they watched tv. it's the little things he misses.

ahh i'm glad you liked the difference in tone, it's definitely what i was trying to go for !! control will always be the driving force for him, coupled with revenge, but sometimes i think corey just wants to feel okay. as overwhelming as his feelings are at times (most of the time), it's the quiet moments i find super, super interesting; when his confidence drops and he's suddenly shy again, just by being near michael.

dead men

when corey goes from ranting about his dad to pleading with michael, it really is just adapting his pre-existing coping mechanisms in a less restrained and more intense situation.

corey really did believe his dad was dead this whole time (why would joan lie to him about that?), he really is dealing with a huge shock and with a lot of grief that he thought he had processed has come back to the surface. he understandably has a bit of a breakdown, seeks validation and comfort (from michael of all people, in a relationship that, like you said, could never ever be healthy), and then wants to compensate for the hurt he feels with violence.

he's definitely contemplating killing his father at the end, i don't know if he does it or not, but i think even the thought of it does something for him. exactly like you said, it's about bringing back a sense of control after having a break down. it'll probably only create more problems, but it's something tangible that corey can do.

basically what i am trying to say is i am pumped that you like those fics and i am revelling in the vindication of you agreeing about the emotional pinball that corey plays at all times lol. you caught so many details and got so many of the points i was aiming for in these stories, which feels so good the hear !! 💗💘 thank you so, so, so much for reading !!

also !! ahhh i'm am so fucking honoured you are even considering making art inspired by one of my stories 🥰 i can only imagine how beautiful that holy water scene would become with your art !!

just wanted to say that i very recently finished watching all the halloween movies and all your corey fics have been feeding me so well 🥹 i absolutely love how you write corey and michael’s dynamic, thank you for all the content 🙏🧎‍♂️

ahhh thank you so, so, so much 😊🥰 this means so much to me, i am always incredibly happy to hear that people have enjoyed my stories !!

corey is so special to me and i've spent a lot of time, too much time really, a worrying amount of time perhaps, thinking about him and his dynamic with michael. corey is so many thing; he's lonely and violent, romantic and desperate, he can wear different costumes and try on different masks to see which one fits, but under it all is a guy who was doomed from the start.

which is all to say i find him truly fascinating and i've been carrying him around like a paper doll for over a year now -- the fact that people like the writing that came from my obsession is the biggest compliment 💗

thank you so much again for your kind words !! 🥰 is it too self indulgent of me to ask which of my fics you liked best? 👀 either way, i'm always down to talk and hear other people's ideas and thoughts !! not just about my work of course, but about corey and michael and the world of halloween 🎃

[amaya-writes]

hi! how are you?

for the event (congrats 👏 ✨️), may i ask for some hcs of asmo x reader + victorian au?

Event Masterlist About The Event

Notes: I went with hcs because I just had too many ideas and knew this would be too long as a drabble.

Warnings: n/a

Characters involved: Asmodeus (obey me), mentions the others

Gender-neutral reader, you/yours

The first time you meet Asmodeus it's at a ball surrounded by high society's finest.

You don't really belong there. That much is clear from your cotton ballgown embroidered with the briefest of lace.

The delicate piece might have been considered fine fashion to those of the upper middle class, but to the rich and spoiled it was but a nightgown in contrast to their fine silk gowns.

Yet somehow, it was that very thing that drew Asmodeus to you.

If he was being honest, you were but another docile town girl for him to prey on. Just another conquest to chase after until his urges were satisfied.

But you weren't just another conquest. You were smarter than them, stronger too. They might have held the status and power, but you were the one with the brains and skill.

Socialites had always just been a game to him; fancy little gems he could collect in his coat pocket and disclose to the world as he pleased. They were gossip, they were mayhem. They were power in the only form Asmodeus would ever want.

Unlike Mammon, he had no interest in chasing riches and emptying their pockets before the night would end. He didn't want the status Lucifer and Satan worked so hard to maintain and was far too social to be the family recluse.

Wordly acclaim like food and astrology wasn't quite up his alley either.

Asmodeus wanted more but at the same time, his conquests seemed futile to those like Solomon who stuck along with him for the basket of secrets he was known to carry.

After all, if you got along with enough people, you start hearing a lot of things you shouldn't. Doing a lot of things you shouldn't.

But you weren't like that. No, you were just so pure, so innocent and wide-eyed like a doe stumbling upon a gathering of lions.

You were fresh blood in a society known for being plagued with the same lineages for centuries, and Asmodeus was keen to taste everything you had to offer.

He was quick to strike up an arrangement that night; he would be your guide through upper society as you navigate the ups and downs of being a hopeful peasant looking to run a successful business. And you would be his for the taking.

You would be his eyes and ears, his hands and feet, you would do things even an aristocrat as scandalous as he couldn't get away with.

You would get him intel on those he couldn't approach on his own and do both the small and big tasks he didn't quite care for.

Your relationship had always been one of benefits. Yet somehow Asmodeus had never anticipated it would turn to more.

Suddenly he found himself dropping by your office even on the days he didn't need to. He went from trying to keep your affiliations a secret for the shadows to escorting you to balls and stealing soft kisses with claims of needing to make someone jealous.

Suddenly, Asmodeus didn't just want to be your inside man, he wanted to be your man. He wanted to explore more than just the fine crevices of your mind.

The only thing you cared about was your work. That much was clear with the way Asmodeus had to all but drag you with him to balls and social gatherings.

But try as you might you couldn't hide the way you were enthralled by him. Who could blame you when the most eligible bachelor on your side of the planet was the object of your affection?

Falling for him was inevitable, but it was your persistence in denying your emotions that was the real problem.

Others would have been driven away by the chase, but to the spoiled socialite known for getting what he wanted, there was nothing more enthralling than being able to lure you in.

It was a game that he wanted, and it was a game he would get.

[kusaka6e]

LESS THAN ZERO

ts/modern au

sero x gn!reader

sfw

insp by less than zero by the weeknd

this was so much better in my head idek if ill leave it up :/

———

“who’s next?”

“i’ll go! cmon tsu!”

you grin watching ochacko pull tsuyu on stage with her, a pop song soon bouncing through the speakers.

sero found himself watching as you downed your drink, smiling at the way your face scrunched at the taste of the alcohol.

“are you gonna talk to them, or just stare like a creep all night?”

“i’m not staring like a creep!”

“it’s not like you’ll get shut down, you know that.” denki gave him a knowing look

he sighed, flexing and unflexing his hands.

“i know, that’s the problem.”

this was the first night in months everyone had been able to get together from your friend group, and somehow mina convinced everyone to come to a karaoke bar.

it was also the first group outing since you and sero had broken up.

the year you two had spent together was one of the best of his life, and he regretted being the reason that ended every day.

sero was used to people trying to use him to get close to bakugou, izuku, or kirishima, all of them being in the current top five heroes. he’d even had someone go as far as to start a relationship with him, their true motive being to try to sleep with shoto. of course, shoto didn’t entertain this at all, but that hurt stuck with sero for a long time.

you’d met mina before anyone else shortly after she graduated high school, and she quickly introduced you to the rest of her friends. truth be told, hanging out with a bunch of pro-heroes was extremely intimidating, but they were all welcoming and kind to you from the start. other than mina, you were always the closest to sero, so it wasn’t exactly a surprise when you two started dating.

but his insecurities ate him up. he was always afraid that you’d leave him for someone better, especially because you were friends with with the same people he was afraid of you leaving him for. and that was the demise of you two’s relationship. the worst part? you were so kind and understanding, even with the countless times you’d gotten your feelings hurt or wrongfully accused of something. and that’s how he knew he was the one in the wrong.

he blinked a few times, refocusing on the scene in front of him, laughing as ochacko and tsu sang terribly off-key into their microphones.

you found your eyes on him from across the room, smiling at the grin spreading across his face.

it would be a lie to say you didn’t miss sero. you were truly dating your best friend, and losing both at once wasn’t easy. and it was hard to tell if you two maintaining the same group of friends made things easier or more difficult. you wondered sometimes if you were too quick to pull the trigger on you two’s breakup, or if maybe you could’ve been a little more understanding when he was explaining his fears to you.

your stomach drops as he catches you staring, giving a small wave. he gives you a playful nod, smile never faltering.

as the night went on, more alcohol went into everyone’s system, and you got to see performances ranging from izuku belting ‘i need a hero’ to todoroki, to momo breaking out songs from the hamilton soundtrack, to denki singing ‘dangerously in love’ to jirou like he was getting paid to do so.

to everyone’s surprise, sero steps up to the dj to go next, cheeks tinted pink with intoxication.

your eyes widen as the song begins to bounce through the speakers, your friends whooping and cheering as sero adjusts the microphone.

“remember i was your hero? yea, i’d wear your heart like a symbol. i couldn’t save you, from my darkest truth of all.”

at first he’s just singing to the entire crowd, but as the song carries on, he makes his way over to you. soon he’s sitting next to you, thighs brushing together as he dramatically serenades you.

“i can’t get it out of my head, no i can’t shake this feeling that crawls in my bed. i try to hide it but i know you know me. i try to fight it but i’d rather be free”

at this point, kirishima and denki are dancing around to back sero up, mina is squeling excitedly, and even bakugou is whooping in encouragement.

by the time the second chorus comes around, your cradling sero’s face in your hands, singing along with him. while both of you are singing horribly, it begins to feel like the rest of your friends fade away, and it’s just the two of you speaking the lyrics to each other.

“cause i can’t get it out of my head, no i can’t shake this feeling that crawls in my bed. i try to hide it but i know you know me.”

before the song can go any farther, you take the mic from sero, tossing it out of the way and pulling him against you to kiss him. the room erupts in cheers, making both of you grin and momentarily pull away from each other.

“well it’s about time!“ iida exclaimed. this sends everyone into a fit of laughter, sero discreetly pulling you into his lap as you wipe a tear from your eye.

katsuki nudges izuku, nodding towards you two.

“i told you. hand over the twenty, nerd.”

“ugh, fine!”

“you guys bet on us?” sero raises a brow, turning your attention towards their conversation.

“yea, i bet deku twenty bucks you two’d be back together by the end of the year.”

you can’t help but smile, noticing an odd look on ochacko’s face.

“were you in on this too?!”

“you two are practically made for each other, how could i not?!”

you chuckle as you look around the room, the expressions on everyone’s face letting you know they were in on the bet too.

“now, hold on! a kiss doesn’t necessarily mean you won, kats. are you guys back together?”

you turn to look at sero, finding his eyes already on yours. he raises his eyebrows in question, unable to wipe the grin off his face.

“yea, we are.” you say softly, watching his eyes light up.

he kisses you quickly as your friends burst into excited chatter, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“i missed you.”

“i missed you.”