#i am very easily pleased LMAO

[maerrine]

man i am a little bummed about how this means that all this time we thought dazai was struggling for the first time was actually all just faked though. i hope we get to see dazai out of his depth at least once before the end of the series.

[bobomcfoe]

Both of my lifeguards that were supposed to come in today for the early morning shift texted me, within a minute of each other, after the shift had already begun, saying they slept through their alarms and would be late 💀 i do not care literally at all because it's 4:30am but it was quite humorous i must say

[demonic0angel]

Ma'am, I need more of Dan/Wraith in Arkham 😭 and maybe him managing to get out and meeting Dick again. Pretty please with strawberry cream on top 🥹🥹

(I’m lowkey surprised by how many people like this AU XD It got rather long lmao)

Part 1, part 2

Selina stared at the man that was sitting in her living room alongside her best friends. Harley was happily chattering his ear off, with Ivy interjecting now and then. The man, Wraith, patiently listened to Harley’s ranting, with only a little objecting whenever she went off-topic too much. He did not breathe and he rarely blinked, similar to a statue.

Or she supposed he was more like a phantom, with his abilities that he had used to help them all escape Arkham when they had attracted too many guards’ attentions.

Although he was creepy and he made the temperature of her living room drop several times, he had helped them all and he was very polite. She couldn’t find any real fault in him except the way her instincts wanted her to not look at him directly, like a haunted painting.

“So now that we’re free, what do you wanna do?” Harley asked. Selina focused back on the conversation, as Wraith hummed and Ivy and Harley turned to look at her with various levels of eagerness.

“There’s a new jewelry exhibit opening up tomorrow. Want to take some diamonds?” Selina asked, speaking up as she glanced at Wraith.

Wraith hummed. “Thank you, but I think I’ll decline. If any of you need help, I am willing to offer my services, but—”

“Is Nightwing still in Gotham?” Harley asked, interrupting Wraith, who glared at her.

Selina raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. He’s still visiting.”

“Actually, I would love to assist you three in any way. My powers are at your service. What time are we going to the exhibit tomorrow?” Wraith suddenly said, looking very eager. Selina blinked at the whiplash before looking at Harley and Ivy, who both looked amused.

It was Ivy who mouthed the words, ‘He likes Nightwing,’ to her, which made her hold back a laugh.

She could remember that little Robin that used to cheerfully break someone’s face with a flying somersault, and that same little boy had grown up into a vigilante with almost flying abilities with the way he moved and fought. Wraith was a criminal, since he was in Arkham, but he didn’t seem too bad. In a way, it reminded her of her and Bruce.

“Well. I think Ivy and Harley can take the other vigilantes, right? I can take Batman and you’ll take Nightwing?” Selina said. Wraith perked up and nodded happily.

How cute. She was so not telling Bruce about this beforehand, so she could laugh about his expression later.

A day passed, and the four of them traveled to the museum when it was night. By now, news of Harley and Ivy being broken out was already known, so security had gotten a little more strict. Still, it was nothing with all of their expertise and Wraith’s unexplained meta abilities. They snuck in easily and looted all of the gold, gems, jewelry, and antiques they saw.

“Where’s your bag?” Selina asked, as she eyed Wraith holding some pearls and gems without a bag to contain it. He was dressed in a dark leather suit that had been originally Bruce’s cat suit— it was nice to hope that he would join her one day— but was now repurposed for Wraith. Her question was answered with a small smile from Wraith as he shoved his hand into his chest, making the gems disappear. Her eyebrows rose but she just gave a nod and moved on.

After that, the bigger and heavier items were given to Wraith to keep. Selina was almost a little worried by how much they trusted him, but Harley didn’t seem to notice and only she and Ivy had some anxiety about it. However, Wraith didn’t seem to care either, and listened to their expertise without any hesitation. It was probably because he was younger than them by at least a decade, she realized.

He was extremely fascinating, and Selina suddenly understood why Harley was so interested in him like a scientist towards a petri dish.

The Gotham heroes finally arrived, just as they loaded up everything in the car. Wraith perked up when he saw Nightwing amongst the vigilantes coming towards them.

Selina couldn’t help but laugh at the sudden cheer on his usually bored or blank expression.

“Okay, Harley, Ivy, you two go back to the hideout. Wraith, you can take me away if we need to, right?” Selina asked, smiling as she recalled Wraith’s intangibility and invisibility abilities yesterday.

Wraith nodded and the other two drove off without hesitation, leaving Selina and Wraith facing the Gotham vigilantes. Wraith wagged his clawed fingers in a greeting at Nightwing, smirking broadly.

“Hello, Nightwing. It’s good to see you again,” he purred. Selina was watching the spectacle gleefully, occasionally glancing at Batman’s covered expression, wondering if she was going to see a good show today.

Nightwing faltered in his steps before he shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. However, he answered pleasantly, “Hello, Wraith. I see you’ve befriended the Sirens.”

“Mhm. They helped me a lot so I could see you again.”

Nightwing’s cheeks darkened but through the shadows, Selina felt like she could see a bit of red on his face. “I see. Well, I’ll have to ask you guys to give up the jewelry you stole. We can do this the hard way or the easy way.”

“Please do the hard way,” Wraith purred again, even throatier than before. Selina had to choke on her giggles as Batman stiffened in horror, staring between his oldest son and the criminal.

Nightwing coughed and took out his escrima sticks. “Well, you’re under arrest, Wraith. Surrender and we won’t have to—”

“Oh my god, just fight him! Stop flirting!” Spoiler screamed and then they all flew into action. Selina took out her whip, but before she could make a move, Wraith darted at her, wrapped his arms around her, and then turned invisible before they flew off through the walls.

Selina blinked rapidly as she watched the museum grow smaller and smaller into the distance. “… you could fly the entire time?”

“Hmm? Oh yes, I’m very strong.” There was a touch of deep arrogance in Wraith’s voice. Then he sighed, “But I was told not to make too much trouble. So it’s better to make an early escape than stick around.”

“I would’ve thought that you would’ve stayed to flirt with Nightwing some more,” Selina teased.

“It’s weird to flirt in front of his siblings,” Wraith said in distaste as they flew over the building roofs and past the clouds to Selina’s hideout. “I’ll find another day to fight him without voyeurs around.”

Selina burst into laughter. Yeah, she could completely understand why Ivy and Harley wanted to take him in now. He really was quite interesting.

[shutupheathersorryheatherr]

"Can I put a bow on it"

✰---summery: in short, leeknow smut. you wanted to do a tiktok Trend with your boyfriend you saw... you didnt know it'd turn into all this but lets be honest youre not complaining

✰---approx: 20 min read

✰--A/n: first part of my smutober series! the other couple parts are coming v soon so stay turned! idk how good this is ive never written smut like this please forgive me if its terrible and ive never written for leeknow. also I figured id just make birthday fics for the skz members born in sep in oct as my take of kinktober but not as kinky lmao please ignore spelling mistakes I wrote this at two am

✰--- warnings/info: kissing, swearing/ dirty talk, smut and lots of it, not a very strong plot I fear, leeknow kinda chokes reader(?), leeknow fingers reader.

~this is simply a piece of fiction. My imagination onto “paper.” This is in no way is mean to be taken as an actual and real representation of anyone.~

if you don’t have an age indicator saying you’re not a minor in your blog then I will be blocking you! So minors dni!!

•••••••••••••••••••••

his arms lock tighter around where your plush thighs and knees meet, he pants heavier, drilling into you with such passion your mind goes blank with noting more inside it then dumb babbilling thoughts that bounce around like a computer screen saver.

youre left wondering how you somehow knew it was gonna come to this.

when you had appoched your boyfriend of a year asking him to do some TikTok trend you had been having saved for a while and had rediscovered.

he scoffs at you with a smile "what is it baby?" he cranes his neck to look at you standing beside the sofa. "can I tie a bow around it?" you ask, innocent smile on your face as his eyes widen. when you show him the video of a girl tying a bow around her boyfriends bicep to your surprise he, in one swift motion stands up, circles his arms around your waist them brings you back down to the sofa with him.

"around what?" you can feel his smirk on your spine, hear it in his voice.

you know what hes doing but he can't fool you so easily. you can feel his heatbeat on your back as he presses you against his firm chest. "hm, so you like the idea then baby?" his only response is nibbling at the tip of your ear, pressing his face into you.

a second later and you feel hot air hit your neck, tickling you. "You like my biceps that much, yeah? you like that ive been working out and how big they've gotten?" you fiddle with your own fingers. "maybe." "you like that I can do this--" he turns you around so he can carry you princess style, carrying you to your shared bed.

he flips you down on it, but still being careful to cradle your head even though it only hits the soft blankets on top of the plush mattress. he looks down at you, sprawled out on the bed, the two of yous bed. and he looks at you like youre a master piece, a beautiful piece of art he wants to preserve forever. "I didnt even tell you what I wanna do."

he flops down next to you "im good with whatever." you reach into your jeans pocket to pull out the pretty silk ribbon you'd put there in case he'd say yes. which to be honest you knew he would. He couldn't resist you. not for long anyways. you roll yourself on top of him, legs on either side of his hips as you straddle him. he sits up and you make a show of wrapping the ribbon around his bicep and maybe hes a little miffed you didnt want to wrap it around anything else.

but he quickly recovers because as soon as you move on to his shoulders, rubbing them with just the right amount of pressure hes shivering. starting at the bow, you kiss, nip, then lick his skin. eventually youre at his color bone and then eventually youre at his jaw, though now just peppering it with more kisses than anything.

thats when Minho decides he has enough and flips you around, caging you in as you smile and giggle at each other, a cute little moment-- coupled with you playing with the ribbon.

but filled with want, he couldn't help himself he pounces on you like an animal

You let out a cute little squeel of surprise that turns him on even more. His hard cock is pressed shift your thigh as you’re chest to chest, your hot breath in his ear as he nips at your collar bone. Someone you end up finding his bicep and biting at it, your lips covering his smooth skin. He stops pinning you to the bed in the little play fight you two have going on. Just long enough to whine out a complaint.

“Ahhhh shit jagyia you broke my arm!” You sit up on your elbows and raise your eyebrow “oh stop” you playfully slap him on his knee, knowing he was only joking too “you’re fine.” “I’m bleeding!” “No youre not” “ok but it left a mark” you lean down and plant a light kiss on the very much not marked up place you bit.

He makes a little ~ahhh~ face of contentment along with the sound. “Wow I suddenly it feels so much better” “so all the pain… gone?” You laugh, “is that all you wanted, a—“ he pins you back down, cutting you off because you both well know he would’ve agreed that yes all he wanted was a soft kiss from you. He was not wasting any time devouring you like a man starved. Though you wished he’d direct his attention elsewhere. Further down your body. To your aching core preferably.

He gets there soon enough. Your pretty pussy hot through your panties. He looks up at you once he’s done kissing down your throat and body, his hand gripping onto your breast thumbing over your pebbled nipple. “Oh yes” you whine, knowing he was asking for permission. “Tell me what you want baby” it’s all overwhelming for you. But that’s what makes it so fucking good.

“Wan’ you to make me feel good” he gets a little closer to your heat, pressing his sharp nose to your clothed clit, making you shiver. “Oh yeah,” he mumbles against you,”how?” You knew that he wasn’t going to do much of anything until you said what he so desperately wanted to hear.

"touch my pussy, Min. can't you see im already so wet for you?" you feel him take another deep breath in, inhaling your intoxicating scent. "come on sweetheart you can do better than that. act like you want it." its borderline a command and you love it. your hips buck up into his face, chasing some sort of friction, just anything to satisfy the want you have inside you.

to your surprise he doesn't pin your hips down like usual, letting you buck up into his face a second time. "mmm yeah," he groans, muffled by your flesh. "fuck yeah just like that baby. you want this so bad dont you." and hes right you really did

"I-I" you try to start your sentence. "what's wrong?" he lifts his head up and pouts in fake sympathy for your breathless state, "can't speak baby? c'mon I know you can do both. keep humping my nose, doll."

you bite your lip in consentration "I want you to finger fuck me while you lap at my clit."Minho chuckles "what is my nose not enough anymore? thought you liked it" you roll your eyes and are about to tell him to shut up until he yanks your panties down your legs until the won't go any further and youre stuck having them dig into your thighs. not that you mind though, the sensation adding to the whole lustful feel in the moment. besides you know they won't be there for long. soon enough he'll be pulling them off completely because he can't get enough of you and needs to be as close as he can to your body.

"too bad, they looked so fuckin sexy on you." you dont even get a chance to say anything cause hes diving head first (literally) into your pussy. lapping at your clit just how you asked him to. but it did make your knees weak and your face heat up.

they were just some old underwear you'd had for a little while you had grabbed out th drawer this morning cause they were the first thing you saw. noting special, in fact, the waist band was starting to have the tiniest bit of fraying. but apparently only you noticed. that was the thing about him, no matter what you were wearing or what time of the day it was he always full heartedly thought you looked amazing. and for all the shit he gives you, you know he thinks that every time he looks at you. and by those looks he shamelessly gives you, well, anyone could tell.

he lifts his head, chin glistening. "I can feel how much youre enjoying this baby. want me to finger you now, hm?" he says it with a fake pout, almost in a slight mocking tone. but you dont care. hes right, fuck you really wanna feel his fingers. you pant out a yeah and when he slides in two fingers, the stretch mixed with the pleasure of him already moving and curling them how you like sends you to another planet.

you focus on his face, somehow concentrated but cocky, proud of the reactions he was getting out of you but longing for more. your legs try to squeeze shut but he forces that back open again and again.

and once hes got you cumming around his fingers and you start to sit up he drags you right back down by your thighs, "im not done with you yet." and it sounded like a promise. your lips curve into a sloppy and dazed smile, "good" you commend. "yeah I bet you feel so," he pauses to kiss your collarbone, "empty. without something filling you up dont you?"

"I do. please ,hurry up and fill me with your cock" he breathes in the scent of the skin of your neck, obviously pleased.

somehow you ended up with his cock drilling into your sopping wet pussy, the sounds your bodies moving together were making driving your a bit insane. with Minho behind you, your nose pressed in the fold of his arm as his hand caressed the side of your face and other free arm held onto your hips for dear life for leverage to fuck you better.

he leaned down to your ear “you gonna be a god slut for me? Yeah, gon take this cock” as he presses his thumb into your mouth on your tongue "oh my god, fuck yeah right there, " you moan as his cock drills into your pussy, hitting your cervix, "hm? god isn't here baby."

you moan in pleasure, knees weak and elbows tired from supporting you. "no, no," he exsencuates his words with sharp pumps oh his dick. "moan my name for me baby." you dont question it, the next time you moan you do. its choppy, long and drawn out but you can feel his smile against your neck. "mmmmh" he whines, "letting the neighbors know who's fucking you so good, hm?" you gasp and make another sound of pleasure at his words.

Minho knows full well what hes doing, and between the gruff tone in his voice, his other hand reaching down to rub at your swollen clit the way you like, and the way his other hand is half pressing on your neck with his thumb on your chin... its all so much but in the best way. he pulls you to him, whispering, coaxing you to cum on his cock, squeeze him so so fucking tight like he wants you to, clamp down on him, soffocate his cock till he cums.

with his heart beat against your back and soft kisses on your neck, you get pushed over the edge with your back arching into his chest. and you barely get enough time to recover till he lays you down gently on the bed, cradling your head and kissing your lips. you gasp when he slips back inside your warmth, and he hisses as his pace picks up to a break neck speed, chasing his own orgasm.

as the pleasure turns into overstimulation he fucks into you with newfound vigor. but you dont care, the look on his face above you making you feel euphoric. he cums soon after and youre sure you'll walk a little funny tomorrow.

you fall asleep on his chest, warm as ever. hm, maybe you should ask him to do more TikTok trends more often... wait... that reminds you, shit! you never filmed the stupid thing. well, guess you'll just have to do it again once you wait up.

~end~

thanks for reading! please reblog and or comment if you liked it!

Taglist: @bamtorin

[rosemarie333]

Astro Observations/Opinions (Vedic Edition) Part Two

Hello Guys! Thank you for the support of my first observation🫶🏾! I APPRECIATE YOU ALL

As an fyi I am not well versed in Vedic too much yet, but I am getting better and better sooo without further do, LETS START HEHE😋

These are based on my perspective of placements and signs, so take what resonates and leave what doesn’t🫶🏾 I’d love to hear y’all’s take as well!

1. People with sun nakshatras in their big 3 can be super prideful when it comes down to it. LOL i mentioned in my last post that they can be egoistic, and that’s true but when they are wrong they’re PRIDE HAS NOOO MATCHES. i’m a kritikka sun so i can admit when i’m wrong it be a HIT to my ego but i do my best to apologize. Buttt one thing about a sun ruled person is that THEY LOOK SOO GLAZED IN THE SUN like summer is y’all’s best friend because y’all were born sun kissed.

2. Although I am an ashlesha moon, i can COMPLETELY UNDERSTAND why people don’t want to be around us when we’re at our worst (this goes for mercurial people in general imo ( ESPECIALLY jyeshthas and ashleshas but revatis ehhhh it’s a 50/50 chance lol even tho they can be very emotionally immature at times). Like i have an ashlesha sun brother and he is so fucking provoking like he does it for a sport and he’s comfortable uplifting people then shooting them down. He can be very sweet and caring but sometimes his aggression and his bad behavior really does overshadow his good behavior and it’s hard to be around someone who doesn’t give a shit if everyone is on edge around them (lol i have mercury in the 8th house in ashwini so power struggles with siblings is very prevalent ugh). Women can be just as negative and it’s like they get a kick out of it because like i’ve said in a previous post they go off on others and tbh it gives them fuel and a short feeling of superiority because they feel inferior (i keep saying they as if i don’t have an ashlesha moon but tbh i understand).

3. Chitra PEOPLE ARE SO FUCKING CREATIVE OMGGGF i’m sooo jealous. like they’re ability to create something out of thin air is FUCKING impeccable. they also have great magnetism and people flock to them easily like dhanisthas. For instance , DOJA CAT omgggg great magnetism (rahu in the 1st gives that hella) and she’s super fucking creative like she writes the majority of songs herself and can produce music like as an aspiring lawyer who’s very interested in singing and songwriting BABES SHE IS one of my inspirations (i also love how weird her music can be). i know the star rules creativity but damn i wish i had it.

4. I’m tired of rahuvians looking like this exact emojis 👁️👄👁️. Like y’all’s eyes POP and like i be feeling like y’all staring at my soul like calm down. I also love how you guys rock eye makeup esp when it makes your eyes look bigger likeeeeeeeee. Speaking of rahuvians, why are ardras lowkey vindictive LMAO like y’all def have a streak of vindictive behavior in y’all.

5. Hasta women, please consider getting a hand tattoo. Y’all loook so fucking fye with a henna hand tattoo or even an actual one (rihanna is a good example but i don’t think she has a hasta placement, but ariana grande has a hasta moon and she has hand tats and they look bomb asf) Like hasta rules the hands and although y’all can be conservative babes TRY IT!

6. jupiter in the 1st house in hasta🫱🏻‍🫲🏿 weight fluctuating real bad esp since it’s in a moon nakshatra like😭i used to be so skinny and now i gained so much weight but tbh i ain’t complaining too much because it fits my body nicely 😏.

7. Having a Sun, Venus, and even Jupiter AK (atmakaraka) is such a flex like😭. Being very confident and self assured with a Sun Ak, Venus AK having that PRETTY PRIVILEGE AS YALL SHOULD!!!, and a Jupiter Ak being hella lucky and the world working in ur favor issss super niceee like i’m jealous (i know your full chart matters on whether these will work in your favor but even with these I feel like y’all were born to be a bad bitch). I feel like having these as a DK (darakaraka) is a flex too tbh. On the topic of AK’s, tbh Saturn atmakaraka is one of the most prevalent in very famous stars (Marilyn Monroe, Aaliyah, Lana Del Ray, Whitney Houston, Doja Cat, Selena Quintanilla). I’m addition, having this AK is pretty saddening because of lot of the people who have this (your chart also plays a part but as something i noticed and others have as well) usually have a hard time in life (Britney Spears, Marylin Monroe, Whitney Houston, Aaliyah). It’s a damned if you damned if you don’t AK butttt just because you have it doesn’t NOT mean one bit it’s doom and gloom because it’s not it is very cool to have this AK (EVEN THO SATURN IS A HARSH ASS MF lol i have a saturn ak 😩)

8. Ketu in the 1st house🫱🏻‍🫲🏿maladaptive daydreaming and very pretty eyes (looks like they are sleep deprived LMAO but it’s very cute imo)

That is all! I didn’t include venus or jupiter observations as I really don’t know a lot of them, but imma do more research and would love to hear what observations you have!

[dreamingofaizawa]

Posession

Ulquiorra Cifer x Fem!Arrancar!Reader

***18+ Fic*** If you are under the age displayed, please find your way to another station.

Warnings: Penetrative sex (p in v), biting/marking, fingering, edging, overstimulation(?), choking/breath play, rough sex, VERY posessive Ulquiorra, spanking (ass and pussy spanking), liberal use of 'master' (both sexual and not) squirting, creampie, cockwarming if you squint, teeny bit of praise kink, dom! Ulquiorra, sub! reader, tiny bit of aftercare (ish), brief mentions of suicide (not descriptive, it’s used as a power grab/show of loyalty)

Word Count: 3.6k

Auhor's Note: Yeeeah....I'm making writer's block my bitch LMAO

Anywho, enjoy the depravity~

Being a fracción was a simple thing, really. Obey. Apologize. Obey. Especially under the fourth Espada, your job was easy. He’s reserved, quiet, but his silence does not convey weakness. It’s calculated, like everything he does. So you must be as well. You match his stoic facade, keep everything in check. You’ve learned to read his every fractional expression, most of his thoughts you’re able to read without struggle. Once you’d begun thinking like him, it became infinitely easier to remain as his fracción and remain unpunished, for the most part. 

With all of that in mind, you can’t fathom what you missed. 

He’s cornered you in your personal quarters outside of your usual fracción duties. If he needs something urgently, he can easily summon you to his side instantaneously. Clearly, it wasn’t urgent enough to warrant a summons. So what exactly do his barely furrowed brows and unusually dark glare mean? You stand, awaiting orders of some kind, while he stalks slowly closer to you. His footsteps are measured, as always. He doesn’t stop, however, when his chest bumps your own. His frame pushes against yours as you easily step backward, matching his pace until your back hits the wall. It isn’t often you can’t read his mind.

“A thousand apologies, Master Ulquiorra, I am unable to discern what you need tonight.” His viridian glare flickers over your features, schooled to match his own usual indifference. The silence is long, stretched thin over the seconds you spend trying to decipher the Espada’s thoughts to no avail. All you can do is study his face. Those piercing, unwavering eyes that you could lose yourself in forever. The tiny tick in his sharp jaw, the tiniest pinch in his brows. Dark lines reminiscent of tear tracks streak down his pale cheeks, drawing the eyes down his neck toward the hollow at the base of his throat. It isn’t often he chooses to leave it exposed. 

“Has anyone paid you a visit today?” The deep baritone vibrates through your body, snapping your thoughts back to the present. No other Espada would dare come to you, unless it were urgent or a special case. None of the humans would bother with you either, even Lord Aizen is far above seeking the assistance of a fracción. He should already know the answer to that question.

“No, Master Ulquiorra.” You don’t bother to elaborate, he hates hearing unneeded explanations. A simple answer is all he ever needs. At the confirmation, his features relax. His expression is blank once again, the calculated persona clicking into place like a puzzle piece. You know you’re one of the very few that can read his micro expressions, if he were talking to any of the other Espada or fracción they’d probably never notice whatever inner turmoil plagues his mind. But you do. 

When he turns to leave, you can’t help but want to ease whatever troubles him. It’s second nature, for a fracción such as yourself. You were made to serve him, to assist him, to do anything and everything necessary to help him reach his goal.

“Master Ulquiorra?” He stops on a dime, casually turning to face you once again. He wants this kept short, he always does. So you don’t bother beating around the bush.

“May I be of any assistance? I can see something is on your mind.” His eyes swiftly trace down and back up your entire form. If you weren’t looking for it, you’d have missed it.

“No. Good night.” Swiftly, he turns and leaves, the door to your room closing softly behind him. How odd. 

The next week is spent assisting the fourth Espada with research of the hogyoku. There isn’t much to be gathered besides what Lord Aizen already knows, and each night you wonder exactly what has Ulquiorra wound so tightly. Yes, his mind still lingers on whatever it is he confronted you about that night. Unfortunately, an answer does not come to you, but instead a new series of questions is given to you when you’re visited once again in your quarters. You feel him approaching long before he arrives, that spiritual pressure is unmistakable. But why is he here?

You’re down on your knees before the door swings open, head bowed down, not from the pressure but out of respect for the man. Lord Aizen steps over the threshold, his footsteps heavy and booming, into the small space of your room. You’ve only ever seen him across a hall or room during a meeting of some kind, and he’s never ever addressed you directly. Any and all orders came through Master Ulquiorra, even if they were from Lord Aizen himself.

“So respectful. Ulquiorra has trained you well, fracción. Stand.” You waste no time, standing at full height and keeping your eyes focused on the ground. Making eye contact could be fatal. You have to tense every muscle in your body to keep from flinching when a large hand reaches out toward your face, and you stop breathing when he grabs your chin and begins to turn your head this way and that. He’s…examining you. Releasing your face, he begins a slow, steady pace circling around you as you stand perfectly still. You don’t know what this is about, but you don’t dare ask, his piercing gaze is more than enough warning not to speak at all, let alone move.

“Very interesting.” It takes all of your resolve not to scream and protest when you feel two large hands, suddenly and harshly, grasp your waist and tug your back against his chest. His chin hooks over your shoulder and his voice is too close, too deep, too dark.

“What a darling fracción. Tell me, why is Ulquiorra so distracted lately? One of my most loyal Espada has been faltering lately.” He’s been faltering? Oh no, what could have him so worked up?

“My sincerest apologies, Lord Aizen. I have not been able to discern his troubles. He has hidden all of his mind from me lately. I have failed as his fracción.” You know you’ve failed. If his mind is so distracted that Lord Aizen has noticed a difference in his performance, then you have failed to be of assistance. You were created for it, and yet you have failed. The ultimate failure.

“Oh, don’t be so down, little fracción. You have not failed, yet.” Yet? What does he mean by that? He releases you from his hold in favor of meeting you face to face, grasping your chin once again and forcing your eyes to meet his own. It’s a terrifying thing, those eyes are pure bloodlust.

“If Ulquiorra were to have you kill yourself for any reason, would you do it?”

“Yes.” You didn’t even have to think about the answer. Undeniably, you would. No matter the order, you’d follow through. If Ulquiorra ordered you to kill Lord Aizen himself, you would kill him or die trying.

“Very good, fracción. Such unwavering loyalty is not so common.” Maybe not, but fraccións are created for the sole purpose of mindless loyalty and obedience. It should not be a surprise that you are this way. Though something deep in your psyche tells you loyalty is not the only quality you hold for your master.

Another layer of spiritual pressure falls on the room, but you are unable to look over Lord Aizen’s wide shoulders with your face stuck in his grip. Regardless, you know who has joined you.

“Ulquiorra, I was wondering when you’d arrive.” The Espada’s footsteps halt behind the former shinigami.

“Lord Aizen.” Nothing more than an acknowledgement, but all of the questions you know he wants to ask remain unspoken when dark brown meets deep emerald, their sharp gazes piercing each other. The tension is palpable, for reasons you cannot calculate. Never would you have thought Ulquiorra could level such a glare at the man he’s sworn his loyalty. Your chin is finally released, and a boom resonates through the small chamber, the white fabric on Ulquiorra’s back suddenly filling your gaze as Lord Aizen turns back to face you both. A sonido? Here? Now? In front of Lord Aizen? What is going on with Master Ulquiorra? The thick silence is suffocating, the air itself seems to be vibrating with clashing spiritual pressures and tension. You’re having a hard time breathing, your body feeling heavier the longer the silence stretches. It feels like an eternity passes and you fall to your knees, but you know it can’t have been more than a split second. As quickly as it built, the tension dissipates as you sit there on your knees, panting and sweating in the aftermath.

“Tend to your fracción, Ulquiorra, the way we both know you want to. She may not be privy to your thoughts but I can read you like a book.” Lord Aizen’s smirk is measured carefully, and he’s gone in an instant. You don’t dare move until that spiritual pressure is gone completely, and even then you’re struggling to recuperate. Tenderly, lithe fingers brush away whatever hair had fallen in your face, emerald gaze searching your face as you peer up at him. Searching for what, you don’t know. 

“Stand.” You do as asked, wobbling for a moment while your strength returns. Strong hands, one on your shoulder and one on your waist, steady you. It’s strange, he’s never actually touched you before. Not like this. You don’t know what to do about the sudden feeling in your chest, warmth and contentment spreading like a wildfire to your mind. Even more so you’re left unsure about your newfound feelings, when instead of giving a command he chooses to lift you in his arms. The boom of a sonido is so much different when you’re moving the distance, but not of your own volition. The door to Master Ulquiorra’s quarters is thrown open and you’re unceremoniously tossed onto the large bed.

“Master Ulquiorra?” You can’t help your confusion. The past fifteen minutes have been a whirlwind of unnatural occurrences. His movements are almost frantic as he strides over to the door and seals it shut, locking it from the inside and training those eyes right on you. It’s a predatory glare he pins you with, the viridian swirling with something dark and sultry and filled with an insatiable lust. It makes your carefully crafted mask of indifference crack and splinter, eyes widening as your body curls into itself. You aren’t afraid, not of him. But something in his eyes just screams danger, and you can’t help the blistering heat coiling in the pit of your stomach nor the involuntary squeeze of your thighs. It doesn’t go unnoticed. Before anything else, a tension settles over the room much like earlier.

“What was Lord Aizen’s business with you?” What a strange question.

“He asked if I knew why you were lacking in your duties lately. I couldn’t answer.” His chest rises and falls heavily, a muscle in his jaw tensing momentarily.

“Was that all?” You shook your head, not at all inclined to keep anything from Ulquiorra. 

“He asked if I’d kill myself at your order.” He went eerily still, every muscle in his body tensed and ready like a coiled snake.

“And your answer?”

“Without question. I would do anything you asked of me, Master Ulquiorra.” The glare he levels you with is primal, carnal desire. There’s no question about it, his entire being is consumed by lust. In the time it takes you to blink, he’s got you pinned to the bed with a hand wrapped tight around your neck, his lips claiming yours in a display of barely controlled dominance that has your entire body trembling. Teeth grab at every piece of skin he can reach. Blooming bites and bruises form along your jaw and neck, carefully skirting around the hollow in your own chest, his fingers squeezing around your throat in increments sending your vision blurry. Your clothes are shredded off your body and you’re left completely exposed for the arrancar keeping you pinned to his bed. Pain shoots through you, jolting your body, the sensation of teeth burying into your shoulder and it’s all you can do to bite your lip to stay quiet. The hand on your throat squeezes, Ulquiorra’s voice rattling your brain.

“I want to hear you. Not a single noise you make will be stifled.” It’s a proclamation, a statement of fact, rather than a request or demand. The next bite is accompanied by a sharp pinch, your nipple peaked between his index finger and thumb as he tugs at it, your voice coming out in a yelp and slowly melding into a low moan while he toys with your breasts. 

“Beautiful.” That single word sends shivers down your spine. There isn’t a single moment you can remember being praised in any way, and your head is spinning from it. His mouth continues its assault on your skin, following the curve of your shoulder and down your breasts. You can see the bite marks scattered over your chest, it lights a fire beneath your skin you can’t quite describe. He takes his time marking you, one hand ghosting over you and the other remaining planted on your neck, his lips mapping your body. You’re trembling from the attention he’s lavishing you with, you know he can feel the way your body shakes from all the stimulation. When his wandering hand finally reaches between your thighs, you’re shy knowing how messy you’ve become. His fingers are toying with the folds of your pussy, teasing around the entrance and barely ghosting over your swollen clit, his lips still sucking and biting and marking. He’s claiming you, completely dominating your being and making you his. 

He’s squeezing your throat in longer stents now, giving you short spaces to breathe between the dizzying cut off of your air supply. He can see the effect it’s having on you, your legs weaker as they try to close around his hand toying with your cunt, tears falling down your cheeks, your eyelids fluttering shut the longer he keeps your breathing controlled. And your pretty pussy is leaking so much more now, dripping onto his sheets and soaking his fingers. His emerald gaze stares up at you when you reach up and grasp at his arm, weakly clawing at him for a breath. He loves seeing you like this, completely reliant on him, even to do something as simple and basic and breathing.

The edges of your vision spot black and you’re shaking harder the closer you get to unconsciousness. You can’t fight it much longer, as much as you want to. Your eyes roll back into your skull as two long fingers plunge into your pussy and you’re granted air once again, the gasping breaths you take making your head spin and the fingers buried deep inside you curl up to hit a spot that makes your back arch up off the bed. It’s euphoric. You’re shaking hard, your legs clamped around Ulquiorra’s hand as something snaps in your abdomen, sending you head first into a freefall of blinding pleasure. Your guttural moans bounce off the walls after being ripped from your lungs, a sinful melody in the arrancar’s ears. When you can finally focus again Ulquiorra is standing above you in all his naked glory, clothing tossed into a random corner. He’s a beautiful man, pale skin flawless and smooth, and you can’t help the way your eyes trace down his toned body to lock onto his hard leaking cock as it stands proud.

“Get on your knees. Turn around and present yourself to me.” The command is clear, the dominant cadence of his voice making you tremble as you obey your master. Dropping your chest to the bed, you spread your knees and grip the sheets tight between your fingers, exposing your ass and cunt to the lust crazed Espada. Shivers wrack your body from the groan he lets slip past his lips, you yelp and jolt when a sharp slap lands on your bare pussy. 

“Look at you. So obedient, so submissive. Such a pretty, slutty little fracción for me.” A moan is punched from you at the praise, and your cunt clenches down around nothing. One hand smooths over one of your ass cheeks and slides up your back, reaching all the way to the back of your neck and keeping steady pressure, pinning you in place. Again you clench around nothing as Ulquiorra teases the tip of his cock at your entrance, never delving further, bumping your clit and making you jump with every pass. You know better than to speak out of turn, but you can’t take it anymore.

“P-please…” Everything halts, even your breathing stops at the realization of what you'd just done. A heavy hand slaps your ass, leaving a blooming red mark in its wake, your whole body jerking at the contact and a moan tearing from your throat. Another slap lands in the same place, harder this time, and another. They keep coming until your moans are sounding more like screams, but Ulquiorra knows better, the gush of your cute pussy giving away just how much you’re enjoying yourself. Mercifully, he rubs at the raw skin in soothing circles.

“A fitting punishment, don’t you think? For speaking unprompted,” you nod as much as you can still pinned beneath him, tears staining your cheeks and the bedsheets.

“Y-yes, Master Ulquiorra.” You can’t see it, but you can hear the devious grin in his voice. If only you had the pleasure of witnessing such an expression.

“Good girl, you’re learning.” Your loud moan is swallowed by the sheets.

“Oh? You like the praise, sweet thing?” It’s formed as a question, but it feels like he’s taunting you, like it’s something shameful to enjoy. You can’t bring yourself to answer, embarrassed to be so affected by his praise. His hand comes down again on your still painful ass.

“I asked you a question. I expect an answer.” Between small hiccups and sniffles, you squeak out a response.

“Yes! I love hearing your praise, Master.” Satisfied, he chuckles, deep and dark and dangerous. He doesn’t bother speaking anymore, focused solely on dragging out your torturous pleasure as long as he can endure. His fingers are shoved into your pussy, ripping a groan out of you and he sets a punishing pace, pumping and curling and spreading to prepare you to take his sizable cock. You can feel that sensation again, tightening in the depths of your belly, feel your legs begin to shake like before, whines and moans spilling into the room. But just before that tension snaps, you’re left empty. You could cry, being denied that release. Ulquiorra just laughs again before rubbing tight, quick circles into your clit to build up the tension again. You desperately want to beg him to let you cum, want to sing his praises in hopes that he’ll pull you over that blissful release, but you know you can’t. Your chest is heaving, entire body shaking as he builds you up to the point of snapping, only to stop just before you’re shoved over the edge again. You cry, sob as another orgasm is stolen away from you. Your body is shaking so hard he doesn’t even have to move his fingers to rub at your clit, just hold them while you tremble and let you work yourself to that peak again and again. Then he stills completely, listening to your pathetic sniveling at being denied so much pleasure.

“Go ahead. Beg.”

“Please! Please Master Ulquiorra make me cum! I want to feel it so bad, I need it. I can’t take any more, please make me cum!” You can hear his evil chuckle, he’s adoring this. In one fluid motion he buries his aching cock all the way to the hilt, your scream is punched from your lungs and your vision blanks, his heavy balls slap against your clit as he slams into you with his full weight. You can’t hear anything as you cum hard, feeling liquid gush from your cunt and drip down your legs, squirting all over Ulquiorra’s thighs. He doesn’t stop, leaning over you and pounding into you until he feels his own orgasm quickly approaching. Shaking is all you can do, pinned down and at the mercy of your master as he empties into you, hot ropes of thick cum filling you to the brim as he finally stills. 

You’re both sucking in heavy breaths in the aftershock, slowly he releases your neck and lays the both of you down on your side, cock still plugging your cunt, keeping all his cum inside you. He holds your trembling form close, gently massaging your shoulders, hips, neck and thighs. Every piece of you that he’s sure aches, he tenderly soothes. It takes a long while for you to pick up the shattered pieces of your mind, he can see your eyes regain their focus as he places soft kisses over your shoulder.

“Are you alright?” You blink away some of the daze, nod slowly to answer. The both of you hiss when he slips his soft cock from you, sensitive as ever. He flips you around to face him, tugging your body over his own so you’re laying on top of him. His fingers caress down your back and massage your scalp and neck, further grounding your mind. It’s comfortable, sweet. You don’t want to be anywhere else. Gently, he turns your head to look into your eyes.

“For the last week I have battled with the notion that you were not solely my own fracción and you would be stolen away by another Espada.” A small, lazy smile graces your features. What a silly concept.

“I’m not going anywhere, Master Ulquiorra.” His gaze turns possessive.

“Of course you aren’t, my dear fracción,” his hand grips your chin firmly, eyes piercing your own, “You belong to me, and only me.”

[whyse7vn]

RFWF -

[ ot7 x reader ]

RM’s NUTS

8 participants - 8 online

———————————

jimin: right freak wrong freak

that’s what you should of called ur album joon

jk: rfwf

hobi: ok but who gonna match MY freak

tae: who wanna go band for band

jin: let’s go shower for shower

you first

tae: STOP SAYING THIS

yoongi: lollll

tae: girlfriend tell them i don’t smell fr

namjoon: all of you shut up

jk: rfwf

jimin: who matching joons freak

jin: a JAIL CELL i hope

hobi: cool but i asked first

does no one care about my freak 😔?

y/n: i care

jk: ME TOO ME TOO

hobi: thanks guys >.<

tae: talking about freak this riding that what happened to the namjoon who hugged trees and read books

jk: that’s really bad because how can he show love to the trees by hugging them giving them false security and hope to then go an cut them down to make books

tae: wait ur spitting rn

jk: not true that’s nasty i’ve said this before

namjoon: i have never hugged a tree

or cut one down

jin: cuz you’re too busy writing about riding

you disgust me

yoongi: good pussy

namjoon: can we not please

tae: joon when you said HE a pro rider what did you mean by that?

y/n: happy pride month!!!

jk: who is pride

hobi: joon was talking about tae

tae: WHY WOULD THE PRO RIDER BE ME??

I AM NOT OF RGB DECENT

jimin: didn’t you kiss jungkook

hobi: Lgb

tae: i take NO L’s

hobi: cuz you take DICK

y/n: LMAO

yoongi: tae the biggest dick rider to walk this earth

hobi: yoongi gets it

tae: HOW AM I A DICK RIDER???

hobi: if we think about this logically you dick riding y/n 24/7

tae: OK WHAT

SO ARE YOU THEN????

I WOULD ACTUALLY ARGUE THAT YOONGI DICK RIDES HER THE MOST

jin: tea

yoongi: shut up

jin: ok sorry

tae #1 dick rider

jk: i’m confused

jimin: i vote joons talking about tae

y/n: same

jk: still confused i thought y/n was girl

jin: jk close second but tae takes it

hobi: real

tae: wtf????

hobi: freak of all freaks!!

tae: ok whatever

fine

don’t care

jimin: you accepted that very easily

y/n: my little dick rider 😘

jk: me too please

tae: i mean as long as it’s y/ns dick i’ll fuck around and cream on that shit too like

no shame

y/n: there is something severely wrong with you

jin: wow

yoongi left “RM’s NUTS”

hobi: he takes everything too far

jimin: like

jk: ok i don’t know if i want to be a dick rider anymore

i don’t want to cream

namjoon: jungkook stop talking we are moving on

namjoon added yoongi to “RM’s NUTS”

tae: don’t act like you all wouldn’t cream on her shit too

yoongi left “RM’s NUTS”

namjoon: tae stop talking now

tae: whatever

jk: rfwf

hobi: definitely surpassed my freak

namjoon: y/n

y/n added yoongi to “RM’s NUTS”

yoongi: why

y/n: stay with the family yoongi

hobi: family 💜

jimin: we practice incest here

jk: insect

namjoon: really…

jimin: just saying she literally called us family and you just wrote a song about her riding you

jk: i thought it was about tae

tae: jungkook did it first

jk: i did NOT ride joon

namjoon: guys

jk: I DIDN’T @Y/N I DIDN’T

jimin: she did LMAO

tae: nuts wishes it was seven

namjoon: shut up

hobi: family 💜

yoongi: fuck ur family

jimin: i know a girl that does

y/n: are you mad i don’t fuck you or something???

jimin: LMAO

you wish

jin: WOAHHH

jk: nct wish

hobi: come on family let’s not 💜💜

y/n: trouble with taemin again sighs this is getting old jimin

jimin: don’t talk about taemin

y/n: don’t talk about who i fuck

namjoon: ok guys chill out

tae: hold on ur all typing so fast ohmygod

y/n: tell HIM to chill

jimin: just saying you are most definitely the root of like 95% of our issues as a group

hobi: my root came 2005

wait

jimin wtf??

namjoon: jimin take that back

yoongi: are you crazy??

jk: jimin that’s mean

jin: and unfair

tae: ???????????????

jimin: she fucks you guys knowing there are feelings involved and then acts like everything is normal when you’re all at each others throats

hobi: we would be at each others throats regardless of feelings or whatever

that’s just our dynamic no??

tae: throat talk kinda rgb guys

hobi: L

tae: don’t call me a loser the hell??

also wtf is jimin talking about

jimin: tell me i’m wrong

yoongi: you’re wrong.

jin: you need to back the fuck up jimin it takes two people to have sex you know idk why ur putting this all on her

jimin: i’m just saying

jk: maybe you should stop saying

yoongi: definitely

namjoon: ok seriously everyone needs to shut the fuck up right now this isn’t something we should be talking about now or over text

jimin: yeah you’re right because we SHOULD of had this conversation ages ago

namjoon: you’re pissing me off jimin and this doesn’t actually involve you stop talking

jimin: yeah and maybe that’s the fucking problem namjoon

namjoon: what are you trying to say right now?

jimin: nothing bye.

tae: are we fr fighting

jimin left “RM’s NUTS”

tae: ok we are fr fighting

why did no one tell me we were fr fighting

hobi: can you not read

tae: ok there were a lot of words on screen going very fast may i add and i can only take in what i can take in

y/n: so you took in the word throat

tae: don’t speak to me right now

jin: anways y/n ignore jimin he’s clearly going through something right now

don’t let what he said get to you we’ve talked about this ok?

namjoon: you have?

sorry not important yeah

what jin said

y/n: i know

jimin didn’t upset me it’s fine

yoongi: it’s okay if you were to be upset tho

like later

or something

y/n: yoongi

yoongi: sorry

y/n: i appreciate you

all of you but i’m honestly fine

i’m more concerned about jimin rn

that wasn’t like him

he clearly had something say and he’s normally one to speak his mind fully not just leave half way

jk: yeah :/

namjoon: i’ll talk to him

hobi: no i think i should

no offence or anything joon

just trust me on this one

namjoon: oh

ok

that’s cool yeah

let me know when you do

hobi: thank you

i will

jk: we were on our biggest no fighting streak

this sucks

hobi: i thinks that’s part of why he’s upset

yoongi: 🤨?

hobi: anyways i’ll talk to him

let you guys know

namjoon: cool so uh

jin: did you just type “so uh”

tae: namjoon personally i love it

so…uh

*puts hand behind head bashfully smiles*

hobi: johnny so uh

get it

like johnny suh

y/n: smash

namjoon: nice guy

jk: hobi pls don’t mention the enemy rn

hobi: didn’t you mention nct wish earlier??

what is the harm in mentioning johnny ://

jk: hobi he’s tall

like really tall

hobi: ok??

jin: remember when hobi punched jaehyun lmao

hobi: no moving on

yoongi: i would also smash johnny suh’s head in

tae: YOONGI WANNA SMASH A MANNNN

A BOYYY

MALE HE WANTS TO SMASH A DUDEEEE

RBG BOY RGB BOY

hobi: for the last time it’s lgbt fucking idiot

y/n: homophobia in june is crazy

tae: i’m just saying how it is

yoongi wanna smash johnny spread the word

yoongi: how about you kill yourself

tae: how about no

spread the word

like yoongi spreads his legs for johnny

jk: he’s 6’2 btw

y/n: why do you know that

tae: bet the height difference turns yoongi on real bad

namjoon: okay stop

jk: joon you say stop a lot and nobody stops most of the time so why do you continue to say stop when it is uneffectuve

namjoon: don’t talk to me

jk: oh :c

jin: namjoons stop worked like 2 times today so this is actually a win for joon

tae: yeah the first 2 times in 74 years

hobi: LMAO

jk: i thought joon was 34

namjoon: i’m not even 30 yet

hobi: LOOLLLLLL

namjoon: stop laughing at me

shouldn’t you be talking to jimin rn

hobi: i said i would talk to jimin meaning i would talk to him in the near future further meaning not right now because i don’t want to be verbally assaulted and or blocked

gotta let him cool down you know how he is

namjoon: yeah okay makes sense

cool

going to bed

keep me posted on jimin

hobi: of course

namjoon: gn all

y/n: night joonie ^3^

jk: gn!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

hobi: night

tae: it’s like 6 tf

jin: it’s 11:45 pm

tae: ok clock wtf

i said it’s like 6 not that it’s actually 6

jin: next time i see you i’m punching you in the face

goodnight namjoon

tae: WOAH??? GUYS ARE YOU SEEING THIS RN????

yoongi: thumbs up emoji

tae: jin just threatened me can we all care rn

jk: i care

tae: you care about the turtles right to freedom of speech

jk: they should be able to speak

tae: you’re a care WHORE

you care for everything

you’re care is worthless overused and slutted out

jk: but it’s still care 😢

tae: used and abused care

jk: 😥😢😭

tae: @y/n do you care

y/n: no

yoongi why did you type out ur emoji

yoongi: couldn’t be asked to look for the emoji in the thing

hobi: wait that’s so real fire emoji praying hands emoji dance emoji

yoongi: thumbs up emoji

jk: how do i unwhoreify my care guys

tae: @hobi do you care

hobi: i am done communicating with you today

tae: @yoongi do you care

yoongi: middle finger emoji

—

#nopeacealllove

tags: @piw6n @92jinnies @birdie-vhs @earth2ela @hob3loveofmylife @jujubiism @bloopkook @ratchetpizza1 @myntalks @arloo00 @watamotee33 @y2kcy3brz @taiwan0618 @freyadanvers @gguksbeloved @raetf @bbsantc @winuvs @medicinemybish @bxnnyhime @seokmyballs @baetukki @zyaaaszn @thelilbutifulthings @jazminethecreator @meowgiz @jmnscutie @threeopossumsinacoat @cynicalyoongs @lightningpussy54 @eunthv @gigiiiiislife @lowkeykin @iammeandmeisiam @socksfirstalways @knjlvr06 @lailaisarmy @thvkives @xstfudaisyx @xxxanimangxxx @solstice34 @ml8dy @hoeforseoks @futuristicenemychaos @featjunranghae @jksgirlfrl

[dumplingsfordays]

fiery embers

pairing - vampire!wriothesley x reader

genre - VERY suggestive fluff.

summary - one dark night, you take refuge in a seemingly abandoned castle which, unbeknownst to you, houses a vampire.

cw!: suggestive, mentions of blood, wrio kinda uh bites you several times, reader is implied to be a little drunk

note - holy cow I am so sorry I took so long to write this, I was kinda busy with hw and a couple bdays so uh yeah 😭 I also feel like this can be applied to blade + maybe dainsleif?? sort of dark n brooding characters lmao-

And as always, thank you for reading :))

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Your feet had never felt so sore before in your life as you approached your (hopefully) saving grace. It was a giant castle in the middle of the woods, with craggy black trees surrounding it on all sides - you were in the middle of a forest, after all. Sure, it seemed creepy and probably abandoned, but what were you gonna do when you have no other choice? Sleep outside, on the bare ground? No way. At least you could see a glimmer of orange light coming from one of the ground floor windows, most likely a fireplace. Ah, you were already imagining warming your frigid fingers by the flame...

Just a little more to go. Just a little, y/n, come on.

You shivered, your breath escaping your lips in puffs of mist as you approached the tall oak front doors. They were surrounded on both sides by crimson roses, their petals darker than any roses you've ever seen before, and their thorns were much sharper and longer. You paid them little mind as you pushed on the wood with your palm.

To your surprise, a door creaked open rather easily, and you entered the dark building with caution. When you turned back around, closing the door, you sensed heat coming from an adjacent room - thank God you weren't imagining things when you saw that flickering in one of the windows.

Hurrying over through a dark corridor to the room to the right of you, you arrived at a dim, and quite dusty, library. It was much larger than the bookshop in your village - bookshelves rose all the way up to a tall ceiling, and all of them were completely filled with the multicolored leather spines of books, illuminated by the gentle flickering flame emitted from the fireplace to your right. A mahogany writing desk sat in a far corner, and if there was something on it then you couldn't see it, it was too dark. Near the fireplace stood a loveseat furnished of the same exquisite wood, with crimson covers and golden detailing, almost daring you to sit down.

And sit down you did - with a relieved sigh, of course, and when you bent over to heat your hands by the warm fire you heard something shift in the corner.

You immediately whipped your head around. "Who's there?"

"I should be asking you that," came a baritone voice from the same corner, and following it, the figure of a tall man emerged from the shadows.

"I'm sorry, don't hurt me, please, I was just cold and I was so desperate to find shelter," you start to ramble, eyes widening in fear as you jumped up from the chair to face him. "Was I sitting in your chair? Oh, God, I'm so sorry, I'll leave now, I just needed to warm up a little-"

"There's no need to do that," the man interrupted calmly. He gestured you to sit back down, and, of course, you obeyed, albeit reluctantly. He pulled up a smaller chair some distance away from yours but still in close proximity to the fire and put his feet, donned in black slippers, up on the stone mantle.

You both sat in silence before he spoke up again.

"Are you from Carran? The village quite a ways from here?"

"Yes," you replied meekly and quietly, the overwhelming sense of guilt at breaking into someone's house (well, in this case, castle) flooding your system.

"Hmm." He paused in contemplation. "I don't know how you made it all the way here, it's freezing outside. I'm happy to provide anything you need, though, like food or clothes, in case you still feel cold."

At his mention of food, your stomach involuntarily growled - you forgot that you hadn't eaten in such a long time, you didn't have breakfast or lunch or dinner and it was probably late into the night by now.

"If it really isn't too much of a hassle or anything, I know that I just kind-of barged into your house and everything, but could I please have something to eat? I haven't done so in a while and I'll be grateful for anything."

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him smile and stand up.

"Come along," he beckoned, "I haven't had dinner yet, so this is really the perfect opportunity to eat."

You followed him uncertainly to the kitchen, a large, open space with dark wooden shelves and a stove in the corner. There was an island, whose countertop was a big slab of (you guessed it) wood. The man, walking over to the stove, lit a match and started to heat up a pot, which, once it started to emit a pleasant, cozy smell, you realized to be full of chicken noodle soup.

When you sat to have dinner, you finished your meal way quicker than he did - such was your hunger - so you, as politely as possible, asked for seconds, which he gladly gave to you. Finally, after a tidbit of conversation, he brought up the topic of names.

"I should introduce myself," he started. "I'm Wriothesley. Well, Duke Wriothesley, officially. And you are...?"

"y/n. It's very nice to meet you, Your Grace."

He let out a short, booming laugh. "No need for formalities. You barged into my home, so I think it follows that we're past pleasantries by now."

Your cheeks reddened in embarrassment as you looked down at your second serving of soup, the broth glimmering in the gentle flickering of the candles around the room. You looked up momentarily, though - Wriothesley wasn't eating. But he said that he hadn't had dinner yet, and he implied that he was hungry...

"This sounds a little rude but..." you trailed off, trying to find words that sound a little more pleasant than 'you said you were hungry and you're not eating, so what's up with that'.

"Yes?" He glanced towards you and you swallowed.

"Why aren't you eating?"

The dark-haired man hummed a short note before answering. "I'll eat later. My appetite... lessened."

For a split second you caught a faint sparkle in his eyes when he said 'appetite', and that freaked you out, before you concluded that mealtimes were his own choice and you shouldn't really judge a person based on that. Shrugging it off, you continued eating.

As you finished up your second plate, Wriothesley, like a gentleman, scooped it up and placed it into the sink before asking if you cared for some wine. You, of course, accepted - what duke wouldn't have exquisite wines in his cellar?

You went back to the library to drink. The fire was warm, and with the alcohol in your system, it felt like you were wrapped up in a nice, cozy blanket while you sat by Wriothesley on the couch in relative silence, occasionally having tidbits of conversation with the man and taking a sip of wine every time another pause ensued. Eventually, you couldn't tell whether it was the alcohol making you feel this warm or just the fire - either way, you felt your previously nervous muscles relax, and instinctively, you shifted closer to him. Which was a mistake, as when your hand briefly touched his, you realized just how icy it was.

"Um, Wrio," you started, using a nickname that you assigned to him a couple conversations ago, "why are you so cold?"

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him turn his head to meet your gaze questioningly. "Am I really?"

"Yeah, you're freezing."

"Oh, I thought you meant unfriendly," he chuckled, "I just happen to be colder than your average human."

"Human?" you smile. "You sound like a werewolf or a vampire or something."

"And what if I was?"

"Well... I probably wouldn't care." Yeah, the alcohol was definitely in your system now.

At your answer, Wriothesley raised a curious brow. "Don't you think they're vile? Scary? Threatening?"

"If you were a vampire, you haven't bitten me yet," you reply matter-of-factly, "so I don't think that you're terribly dangerous."

In a flash, he was on you - trapping you between himself and the couch, he leaned forward, almost forcing eye contact. You were helpless to do anything but lock your eyes onto his ice-blue ones.

"And if I bit you right now, would I still be dangerous?"

"Depends on if you chicken out or not."

Wrong choice, y/n!

"Well then." He dove to the crux of your shoulder, letting his surprisingly warm breath tickle your neck before grazing his teeth across the delicate skin. "Let me know if it gets too much, hmm?"

Resolving yourself to your fate was really the only thing you could do right now. You stared at the dark ceiling as you felt his rough hand caress your hair, tilting your head to the side for easier access, and finally biting down.

It stung at first, like two needles being injected within close proximity of each other, before the pain melted into excruciating pleasure after a couple of seconds. Wriothesley removed his fangs, favoring to lick the flowing spring of blood little by little.

"God, you taste sweet," he groaned, running his tongue along your neck. You writhed in his hold, clawing at his back, pressing him to your form, begging to bite you again and again and again-

He retracted his mouth from your neck, his absence making you whine pitifully as you tried to bring his head down, back to your shoulder.

"Look, I can barely look at you without needing to bite, I just feel... a little wrong if you don't want me to."

His steely-blue eyes locked onto yours, desperation and desire clearly evident in their depths. Please let me bite, sink my teeth into your soft skin. Fucking please, please, I need to or I'm gonna die.

"Yes, just do it, 'm begging you," you cry, letting out a relieved moan when he scraped his fangs across your skin where he bit you previously. And then he bit again, this time lower, trailing down to your shoulder. His hands started to roam, one finding purchase in your hair and the other holding his upper body up so that he didn't crush you beneath his chest.

Never in your life did you think that a vampire sucking your blood was going to feel so intoxicating. You couldn't help but gasp as he ghosted his cold lips across your fiery skin, indulging in real human blood (sheep and cow blood were getting very bland, almost seeming to him as dog food would to a person) that, to his added excitement, came from such a beautiful body. He pulled out every single noise that you could make out from your throat, sounds that compelled him to kiss and nip and lick your tender skin with urgent attentiveness.

Soon you began to feel lightheaded - a state which you couldn't tell if it came from the wine or the loss of blood - but you let Wriothesley know anyway by tapping him on the shoulder.

"Mmh, you taste so good, sweetheart," he praised, "what is it you need?"

"I'm feeling kind-of lightheaded n tired," you whispered in reply. His eyes widened for a split second, but returned to normal as he pulled himself off of you, making sure to press a finger to where he bit you to stop the bleeding.

"I'll get a bandaid, but thank you for letting me, thank you," Wriothesley sighed as he licked his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. He stood up from the couch, grabbed a blanket from a nearby shelf, and draped the heavy material over you, sort-of tucking you in before leaving the library to fetch a bandaid.

Now alone, you turned over to your side to look at the flames. They were dying now, embers flickering a deep orange as they cast light onto the surrounding bookshelves and you, and the heat emanating from them was pleasantly warm. Folding your knees up to your chest, you closed your heavy eyes and at last succumbed to sleep.

[metis-iphigenia]

DAMIAN WAYNE SCHOOL HEADCANONS because school opened like 2-3 weeks ago and i need to cope

•since he is 15 years old, he is in 10th grade(not letting dc pull a tim drake and make him the same age forever)

•he used to love chemistry in the 9th grade because the first subject was alchemy if i remember correctly(dc can pry the "al ghuls are alchemists" hc(canon) from my cold dead hands)

but he lost interest in chemistry quickly after the subject passed.

•his all time favourite classes are math and art. im just sure damian's type of person that doesnt separate math and art from eachother

•why art is his favourite is a given but his favourite is math because math is a class based on problem solving(and also because he can do math easily)

but yeah ik his classmates are very very annoyed whenever he says "math is easy"

•I imagine him arguing with his english teacher the most for some reason. there is no reason other than damian is a very educated kid about the english literature(literature in general) so either he doesnt care or he correct his teacher on literally everything.

•i feel like he would either do a very detail research about the book he read and write a very long essay, or make a very short one and not enough detailed. no in between(because he misunderstood his teachers when they said to "keep it short")

•he begged his father to let him take an exam that lets him skil grades based on his level but his father refused so now he takes advanced math etc.

•him and duke see eachother in the morning regularly(insomniac duke, and damian who wakes up at 5.30 is real) and they sit down to talk about random shit till 7 am mostly(duke explained him the fnaf lore and damian talked about creepypastas real)

•he texts with maps both on their way to their separate schools and make plans to meetup after school to just hang out

•damian usually reads or draws in most of the classes since he already knows everything they are teaching but when asked a question, he does yap a lot(dc should bring back yapper damian ngl)

•bathroom breakdowns were very real for 9th grade damian(literally canon event for everyone with social anxiety or people who get overstimulated at school)

•still bullied just doesnt care about it and insults them/messes with them back to get back at the bullies(it stops after him also messing with them)

•he loves playing football and volleyball but not with his teammates(ik hes #3 frat boy hater i just feel it) so he only gets along with 2 of his teammates. i imagine their personality as scott and stiles from teen wolf so yeah

•has one(1) friend and two(2) teammates he doesnt hate in total(girlfailure and girlsuccess damian youre real to me🙌😼)

also he got multiple friends outside of school anyways lmao bro is anything BUT anti-social(to me hes also the type to join his schools projects etc or debate teams)

•he always calls his mother when he makes it to school and whenever hes leaving it because talia worries and he wants ease her worries(ultimate mother daughter duo)

•after school he has a yap session with nika and they talk about everything that happened to them that day(yapper4yapper gravebird my beloved)

•him and stephanie rant about school daily and talk about how much they hate it(but they both wont drop out since steph wants that med school degree and damian also wants it in the future(med student sisterisms real))

•jon may be going to a journalism school(i think??) but hes still a science nerd so their study sessions always turns into an argument about an equation or a science problem

>>> so i think thats it!! please tell me your headcanons too and help me cope with school also because i love reading about hcs(esp thosr about damian) <<<<

[mariaace]

100 followers event + collab with @transmascaraa

(cuddling headcanons-PM+Hunting Dogs)

A/n:sooo hello guys I've reached 100 followersss and my bf had reached 400, so we decided to make this collab as an event for them💜 Those are basically some cuddling headcanons. I am writing for the port mafia and the hunting dogs. Nyx is writing for ADA and DoA. You can find his work right here.

P.S. I am so thankful to all of you for 100 followers it really means a lot to me<33

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Port Mafia

Chuuya

Cuddles with this man are rather rare ngl. He's busy with his job and everything, buuuut he always makes up for it

He is so gentle with you and careful with how he touches you. This man is a gentleman, you can't expect anything else

He refuses to be the little spoon. Like no chance. He feels like he can protect you more that way even if it's just cuddles.

Most of time, when his head is in your lap, he would expect you to play with his hair. (Maybe would get offended when you don't 😅)

Hug his waist pleasee!! You can't cuddle with that man and don't wrap your hands around that waist. He will also love it<3

Akutagawa

Now with this you've really gotta work to get to cuddling lmao. This is the most unaffectionate person from bsd maybe.

Bue still when you do get to it he would be sooo akward for him at first, but he will get used to it..maybe...after a lot of time...

Still cuddles would be like, with him literally crushing you while just laying on top of you, but still he is underweight so you won't feel it a lot

Probably would feel asleep, but would not admit it after that

He always acts like he hates when you ask him for cuddles, but (very) deep down he actually loves it, because it calms him down and his thoughts.

Tachihara

This boy is soo underrated please

Anyways that wasn't the theme. Cuddling with Tachihara is an often thing

He loves to cuddle and be touchy with you. So almost every day after work, he'll just drop his body weight on top of you lmao

In this case tho, he would want to play with your hair. "It calms me down!!" He always says- and maybe it does, after a long day at work

Hand holding while cuddling is something soo important for him. Like he loves holding your hand and because he can't do it more often he insists on doing it while cuddling

Gin

Ohhhhh now this sweet.. powerful... gorgeous woman. I need a Gin in my life

Anyways cuddling with her would be you two facing eachother, laying in the bed, with your legs interlocked and her arm around you

She would like for you to tell her how your day has been while you play with her hair. She might fall asleep tho

After that she will tel you about her day and would be like turning around and gesturing with her hands while talking, so you get to pull her back to cuddling

Cuddles before going to bed are her favourite, because then you both fall asleep in each other's arms

The Hunting Dogs

Tecchou

Ehh >< sweet guy i i love him so much.

He is the big spoon. Always. Like most of them, he needs to have the assurance that he can protect you immediately if something happens.

Doesn't talk much while you cuddle. He would just close his eyes and burry his face in the crook of your neck

Would most likely to ask you to talk though, because he loves listening to your voice, so don't blame him if he falls asleep, but this doesn't happen very often

Also he doesn't move around when you two are laying down. Like he'll get in one position and not move until he actually has to get up to go to work

Jouno

Omg i have already talk about that before but anyway

So like I've said in my Jouno headcanons, i think he has sensory issues, because of the fact that he is blind and is very sensitive towards any kind of physical affection

So in that case cuddles wouldn't happen often, because he gets easily overwhelmed by them

However on days he is very tired or you had a bad day/are also tired, he would. You have to be careful with him though

He likes cuddling with you in general, just pls be careful with him

Teruko

She would pop onto you like a starfish

Would start ramble, ramble, ramble..until zhe actually falls asleep in your arms

Honestly in order for you to cuddle either one you is veeery tired or you were playfully fighting or tickling eachother, then it turned into cuddles

Her rambles are soo cute. Like she would tell you every single thing about her day, to the smallest detail

Like i said, she would probably fall asleep after that AND would expect you to hug her tight while she is sleeping

© mariaace 2024 please do not copy, translate, steal or claim any of my works!

Reblogs are highly appreciated!

@dazailoveschuuya @transmascaraa

[hadesisqueer]

Okay, so I finished JWCT and-- it was a great season.

Ben was awesome this season. All the mentions to how much he'd grown were funny, and the Big Ben joke was as well. I really liked him and his moments with Darius and Yaz, most of all with Yaz; I always enjoyed their friendship, and I loved how they talked about their feelings again. Also-- he has a girlfriend? A girlfriend?

Kenji's moments confronting his father and not letting himself be manipulated again were among my favorites this season. His conflict with Darius and their brotherly moments were cool to watch. Darius' whole arc, his grief and guilt over Brooklynn's supposed death was among my favorite arcs this season.

Yaz and Sammy were awesome in general, both individually and as a couple. Yaz is my favorite character, and I loved her arc. As someone with PTSD myself, I am very pleased with how the show didn't shy away from it and fully saying "PTSD". Personally, I am pretty happy that Yaz's PTSD was handled so realistically and with such care. Sammy was a badass this season, and her feelings and anxiety while dealing with Yaz apparently pulling away, her grief over Brooklynn's supposed death and the fact that her parents for some reason don't talk to her were handled realistically. I specifically wanna know what happened between her and her parents, because she adored her family and her family adored her as well back in CC; I really wonder what the conflict is that they're not talking anymore. Yasammy as a couple is awesome as well, as I said: their conflict is handled very well and you can understand both sides. The resolution was great and their moments in general were awesome. They're still easily the best couple of this show (not that it had a lot of competition), and probably one of the best in animated media in general. I love them.

Brooklynn being alive at the end? I think everyone called it, lmao. My girl is far too cool to just die, sorry, she can't die. I can't wait to see the others find out and their reunion.

Now, my thoughts about the other ships this season-- Brookenji and Dinostar lmao? I cheered when I found out Brookenji broke up; I was never a fan of the couple, sorry, it was TOO forced. Now, the whole Dinostar thing-- I was a bit suspicious of the way Darius was acting about Brooklynn and all, but I didn't think they were actually gonna have him admit he was in love with her, so that took me by surprise. I know they said it was unrequited, but yeah I don't buy that. I'm predicting it: it will turn out that it's not unrequited, that Brooklynn actually has feelings for him and they're going to pull a love triangle between her, Darius and Kenji. Pfff, it's like I'm seeing it. I'm really not a fan of love triangles tbh. But if it happens (and it's probably gonna happen, I can see it coming), I hope it ends up with Dinostar endgame instead of Brookenji. Like I already said, I really don't like Brookenji. And I've always been more neutral with Dinostar (and Benrius; I like, them too but don't pay them that much mind). I liked Dinostar platonically a lot, and while I didn't care much of it, I also never minded the idea of them becoming a couple. In fact, Brookenji took me by surprise while watching the show because to me if they were gonna pair Brooklynn with someone, I always thought it'd be Darius rather than Kenji, because I thought they made more sense. So, yeah, if it's Brookenji or Dinostar, Dinostar all the way for me lmao. Still not looking forward to the love triangle if it happens lol.

Also, Bumpy being a mom. Fave moment of the season.

Anyway, I need a second season. Like, right now.

[herecirmsims]

Ivan

So excited to share this! I originally made this posepack several months ago as a gift for the wonderful prOwOfligate , who wanted a recreation of the iconic and deeply traumatic Ivan the Terrible and His Son Ivan painting by Ilya Repin. I didn't quite achieve the look but I tried my best lmao, and added a few alternate versions because I can't not make poses into a sequence.

Anywho, I only shared it with Prow and a few friends - one of whom was the equally wonderful @electricwhims who used it in their IG story (one of my most favourite stories!!) and asked to add a whole extra magical healing sequence to it, so now there's a happy ending after all!! I loved the extra poses so much and asked if we could release the whole set as a collab and they agreed, which I am SUPER geeked about!! 🥰😍

We hope you enjoy our little angsty offering. Please do check out Prow's amazing horror-and-occult-infused stories, and ElectricWhim for their story and other storytelling poses!! There are 10 couple poses plus all-in-ones included. As always there may be clipping or floating depending on Sim clothing and body type.

P.S. If you have a bunch of my poses already, then the posepack will appear at the very end of the [Herecirm] list. I'm just mentioning this because I spent a long time squinting at Pose Player and trying to figure out where it was. 🤣

You will need: - Pose Player - Teleport Any Sim

Download (always free): SFS | Patreon

TOU: you may adjust for personal use only to avoid clipping etc., but please do not reupload/paywall/claim as your own.

We'd love to see them used! You can tag me and Nugget on the following socials: ElectricWhims: Instagram | Tumblr Herecirm: Twitter | Instagram | Tumblr

You can easily browse more of my posepacks using my Ko-Fi gallery. Have a request or want to make a commission? Details here!

@ts4-poses @alwaysfreecc

[bisnes-socks]

talking about ready to go on this fine sunday evening

the very beginning of the song, before the guitars come in, and it's just like a synth sound, some backing vocals and bass, reminds me of kinda like old school hiphop. an opening like that could easily lead into a real rap beat, it's giving like early 90's and early 2000's hiphop. i was kind of expecting it to go the rap route when i first heard the song! but nope, in comes a siiiiick metal inspired guitar riff (jukka i owe you my life???) that's some chugging, i am also ready to go with a riff like this. hell of an opening.

his vocals come in one style, transition into another, then a new style for the chorus, and yet another for the second verse. FOUR vocal styles for one song. that's not so typical for pop music these days. i love how fearless he is with vocals in general, he's not afraid of sounding weird or funny. and even with the funny voices, he himself never becomes a joke, because he commits and puts his whole back into it. that is genuenly a skill, to be able to be so playful and still be for real.

and his singing in the chorus is good, very pleasing. i especially love his voice with the word"haluut" like he hits some soft vibrato in the second chorus right there, that is some good shit.

and guys. the way the chorus is built. it's incredible.

the long pauses in between words is so good and so... cunty lmao. it's like he is leaving room for the listener to jump to conclusions, only to call you and your mother and the whole country and culture out for being negative nellies who wish artists would fail (context for that can be read here)

so the first time hearing the chorus is like:

sä (who me?) haluut (oh? i do?) nähä (see what 🫣) ku mä (when you what 😳) flomaan taas ojaan kuraiseen (ooooh snap he said that part out loud)

and like i said it's so cunty, it's so deliciously arrogant to open the whole entire album this way, because there is so much space in the chorus to expect all sorts of things. because it could go anywhere. like...

1. sä -> oh he's talking to me now

2. haluut -> he is calling out something i want and desire. that's very disarming as a listener, makes you feel on edge because whatever he is going to claim that you want, you either have to come to terms with him being absolutely bang on the money correct, which means he sees right through you and you feel exposed, or he is going to say something you don't want, which will be a whole different journey, could be funny, could be offputting, could be anything!

3. nähä -> oop, what is it that he thinks i want to see, is this going a voyeristic route? is he going to expose everyone for being horny for him? whatever it is he is calling everyone voyers, basically.

4. ku mä -> it's so very deliciously arrogant to just straight up make a chorus that starts by him straight up telling you, that you, yes YOU, want to see me [do anything]. he's like. you're obsessed with me, aren't you. and he is RIGHT. makes the listener a bit red in the face, don't you think?

5. flomaan taas ojaan kuraiseen / mokaan ja maitojunaan meen -> aaand (finnish) people know exactly where this is going now. he is calling out the culture, he is calling out the haters, he is calling out the negativity and the vahingonilo (schadenfreude?) in this country. and we know exactly who he is talking to, we all know these people.

KING SHIT.

THE CUNT ON HIM to make this the opening track because we know it's aimed at, you know, like Pekka from Janakkala or whatever, who spent all of 2023 huffing and puffing because he thinks this Käärijä business is ridiculous and a waste of time and so he told everyone who was excited about CCC and ESC that ultimately Käärijä would fail and embarrass himself and the whole country. So Jere knows Pekka from Janakkala is still mad that "mikä lie Käärepaperi se nyt oli" actually succeeded and continues to succeed, so he calls that shit out in the first fucken song. It's like he's saying hi to all the haters who put the record on with every intention of trashing it and complaining about it. and it is them to whom he is being like "why are you so obsessed with me honey, why are you here to peep at me, hmm?"

the gaps in the chorus are like the audio equivalent of awkward eye contact you can't escape. he's saying i fucken see you.

and then the one time he modifies the chorus, he says "mä haluun ajaa tosi kovaa, vaik pelti kolisee, hei baby i'm ready to go" and that's him informing everyone that he's going to continue to do whatever he wants to do, he doesn't care if he gets a bit banged up or bruised on the way, because he is ready. and then it goes back to like "you want to see me fail, but i'm ready to go". the confidence in all that is genuenly admirable and something that this culture needs.

and i think the rest of the lyrics, in the verses, are about that too. he's going full speed ahead because he does not care if he stumbles. he's doing what he wants, what he always wanted, it's his passion, and he no longer has anything to lose. he's not afraid of failure. he knows there are people who want to see him fail, because it would confirm their own sad world view, but he does not give a flying fuck and he's not going to let that kind of mindset affect him. so he is fucking ready to go.

and musically, this song combines all of the käärijä elements really well! like i said, the opening sounds first like old school rap, then like metal, then going into more of a dance beat, the use of different vocal styles, a strong message, proper attitude sprinkled with a lot of humour and some twinkle in the eye. and the way he switches between pronouncing ready to go the finnish way and a more "proper english" way, is also a fun little international Käärijä detail.

a banger of a song with the cuntiest attitude we've seen in a while. incredible.

[sunnysidesevenup]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THIS MENACE TO SOCIETYYYYY. TILLY I LOVE YOU

he’s 25 but here’s a foxglove fic about his 23rd birthday where I drop some random lore lmao

tag list (lemme know if you wanna be added!!): @kirexa @gimmeurmoneyagh @lallopsyou

fic under the cut! :D

“When’s your birthday, anyway?” Fellow asks. He’s not particularly interested, but he’s known Tilly for long enough that it likely should have come up by this point.

The two of them are sitting on the floor of Fellow and Gidel’s small apartment (honestly better suiting the term single room than apartment, the damn landlord a full on scammer if Fellow does say so himself). They’ve each got a coat in their hands, sewing supplies spread across the floor as they carefully repair holes in the fabric. It had finally gotten cold enough that they could no longer simply layer clothing, and thus the yearly time to sew up clothes is upon them. Tilly, since he’s there often enough, is obviously required to help—while Gidel gets to happily draw in the corner.

Said man hums to himself, swaying back and forth a bit while he sews, tongue stuck out in concentration. “Dunno.” Tilly finally says.

“How do you not know?” Fellow scoffs.

“Well, I don’t have parents or anything like that! So how would I know?” Tilly glances up from his work, shaking his head at Fellow as if he’s disappointed. “Silly.” He scolds.

The beastman glares at him, “You told me you were 22!” He argues, affronted.

Tilly grins at him, “Hmm, yeah. It just felt right. Maybe I’m older than you, though?” His grin turns a little devious, and he tilts his head. “You’d show me more respect if I was older, right~?”

Fellow tosses one of the coats at him, hitting him in the face with it.

In typical Tilly fashion, he instantly collapses backwards, whining about being injured. Gidel, the traitor, giggles at him, while Fellow only snatches up the coat the other was repairing.

He observes the stitching, and scoffs immediately. “This is terrible.” He says, already removing the clumsy attempts.

Tilly finally pauses his dramatic whining, pulling the coat off his face but remaining laid on the ground—although he rolls sideways to better look at the man. “I’ve never sewn anything before, I was simply guessing.”

Fellow rolls his eyes, “You’re really useless on your own, you know that? How have ya’ even survived this long?”

“I’m very lucky.” Tilly says seriously.

“No, you’re not.” He shoots back. “Get up, I’m going to teach you how to do this. You’ve got to know some life skills! Ya’ can’t just live in your little fantasy world where everything goes right for you forever, you know.”

The purple haired man sits up, toxic green eyes staring widely at him. “But my fantasy world is so nice!” He coos, leaning closer to observe what Fellow is doing. Then, in a considering voice, he adds: “Although if it was a real dream world, you’d probably be wearing a maid dre—“

Fellow smacks him in the face with the coat again.

While Tilly whines from where he’s laid out on the floor once more, the beastman stares down at him with absolutely zero sympathy. “There’s no way you’re older than me when you act like that.” He states, voice dripping with condescension and annoyance.

“You’re so rude to me.”

“You deserve it, you absolute buffoon.”

Tilly sits up again, shaking his head. “How people act has nothing to do with their age, ya’ know! I could very easily be 4 years older than you and you’d never know.” He taps his chin in contemplation, a smirk crossing his face. “In fact, I think that’s what I’ll go with from now on! Please show me the respect a senior deserves.” He puts his hands on his hips, a proud look on his face as if Fellow would respond in any other way than bafflement.

“You can’t just change your age!”

“Why not? It’s not like I know when I was born in the first place.”

Fellow sputters, “Wh— No! No, I am NOT having you claim to be OLDER than me!”

“Aww,” Tilly puts a hand over his heart, his eyes widening in false sympathy. “The lovely younger man under my care seems to be struggling, how shall I help him?”

This time, Fellow forgoes the coat in favor of simply tackling Tilly to the floor. Gidel, of course, ignores them rolling around and wrestling, far too used to this behavior from the two of them.

Finally, he manages to pin Tilly down, and he contemplates using the coats to just suffocate him and end his misery already. The other man, meanwhile, just pouts at him. “This isn’t fair at all, you’re much taller than me.” He says.

“And older.” Fellow declares firmly, glaring at him. “Say it, I’m the older one.”

“Only children fight over who’s the oldest.” Tilly says, like he wasn’t just participating in exactly that.

Fellow just squeezes his pinned wrists in response, and finally the man sighs, giving in. “Alright, I’m 22.”

The beastman grins victoriously. “Good.” He says, finally moving to get off him. He suddenly stops, however, as a thought occurs to him. “Huh, wait. How do ya’ decide when you age if you don’t know your birthday?”

Tilly laughs. “Well, whenever it feels right, of course!”

“That’s a terrible way to do things.” He shoots back immediately.

“You wound me deeply, ya’ know?” The human sighs. “And from such an Honest Fellow, too! Surely you must be correct, of course.”

Once again, Fellow is reminded that he HATES Tilly saying his name. There’s just something so infuriating about it.

“Just pick a date for your birthday, and be done with it.” He growls instead, choosing not to acknowledge the goading. Nothing good ever comes from acknowledging Tilly’s taunts, he’d learned long ago.

“Hmm, maybe.” He says, but Fellow can tell from his uninterested tone that Tilly likely won’t follow his suggestion at all. It’s typical of him to ignore perfectly reasonable advice, no matter how annoying and illogical this course of action may be.

A fantasy world he lives in, truly.

Tilly’s words a few minutes ago pop into his head again, and Fellow hurriedly gets back to his sewing. Why he insists on taunting him like that specifically, he doesn’t get. Not that he gets much about the guy in the first place.

Tilly sighs, also going back to the sewing. However, he simply stares at his work for a bit, and then glances back over to Fellow. “You’re right, I’m bad at this.” He admits dejectedly, but then nigh instantly perks up. “I’ll just get you a new coat, problem solved!”

Fellow points his needle at him. “Life skills, remember? Try living in the real world, ya’ sound like some pampered rich kid.”

The man gasps, “Take that back.”

“Get to sewing, then.” He smirks at him, pointing to the stitching. “C’mon, it’s not that difficult. Even Gidel can do this.”

“Well, Gidel is much better than me at a lot of things.” Tilly states, looking over to the corner where said boy has been ignoring them. “Aren’t you?”

Gidel nods.

“At least we agree on one thing, then. Gidel is much better than you in every way.”

“Aww, you say that like you love him more than me…”

Fellow gives him a disgusted look. “I don’t love you at all, in fact.”

Tilly doesn’t seem particularly troubled by his words, not that he expected him to be.

Still, his eyes feel a bit piercing as they observe Fellow. The toxic green color had always made his gaze just a little too intense, after all. It’s almost like he’s calling him out for something, although Fellow has no idea what it could possibly be. It’s not like he was lying.

Tilly finally looks away, wandering instead over to Gidel to see what he’s drawing. Fellow debates scolding him, since he was JUST telling him to learn how to sew, but he lets it happen. They’ve got plenty of time, and he’ll just make the man be the one to go without a coat for a while as punishment.

(Whether or not this ends with Tilly roping him into sharing his own is inconsequential. He’ll make sure not to give in this time, no matter how annoying he gets or how much he begs.)

The bigger question, however, is Tilly’s birthday. Just randomly deciding when to start saying you’re a year older does sound like something the strange man would do, but just as Fellow had said, that was a truly awful system. He would never go about things like that, which is why he’s the rational one who is doing much better for himself, obviously.

So, if Tilly wouldn’t decide on a date, Fellow would. A very simple solution! He’d even get him a gift so he couldn’t protest. A full proof plan, surely—and then Tilly would be required to get Fellow something for his own birthday in compensation. A win-win, as one would say. Quite smart.

(He ignores the little voice in his head that asks why he’d even care about this in the first place. No need to think about it too hard.)

-

“There you are.”

Tilly glances over his shoulder as Fellow approaches, perched on a crate in a random alleyway. He’s got a deck of cards in his hands, and what he could possibly be doing Fellow doesn’t know. He doesn’t move from his position, simply shuffling the cards, and flashes the beastman a grin. “Pick a card!” He says, holding a splayed hand out to him.

Fellow frowns at him. “Not right now, I’ve got something for you.”

Tilly frowns right back at him, raising an eyebrow. He then reaches out a hand, his fingers sliding into Fellow’s hair. Right before the man can swat him away, he’s already pulled back, a new card in his hand. He twirls it around, and then adds it to his deck. “You’re so boring.” He says.

The beastman stares at him, wide eyed. “Don’t do that.” He tells him.

Tilly tilts his head, a sly grin on his face. “Do what?”

“You—ugh, you’re distracting me.”

“I’m distracting?” The man bats his eyelashes, and Fellow rolls his eyes.

“Here.” He says instead of acknowledging his words, and pushes a box into Tilly’s chest.

He raises an eyebrow, a confused look on his face. “What’s this? Are you proposing? Well, I suppose I can accep—

“It’s a birthday gift, you fool.” Fellow cuts him off, crossing his arms.

“….It’s my birthday?” Tilly asks.

He nods back at him, confirming. “Today’s your birthday.”

“Oh!” Tilly’s eyes light up, and he stares down at the box. “I’ve never had a proper birthday! Is it normal to propose on them?”

“It’s OBVIOUSLY not a proposal!”

The man’s lips quirk up into another smirk, an obvious indication that he’s taunting. But his attention quickly goes back to the box, a simple little thing that doesn’t even have wrapping paper or any type of decoration. He stares at it like it’s gold, and after a bit of this, Fellow begins to become uncomfortable. It’s just a cheap gift, after all.

“Go on then, open it. I don’t have all day.”

Tilly hums, acknowledging him, and sets his deck of cards aside to better look at the box. “You didn’t have to get me anything, you know.” He says, and it’s a strange thing to hear from a man who’s been known to beg strangers for a multitude of items.

“I’m not heartless. You looked so pathetic when we talked about your birthday, I just had to get you something.” Fellow says, waving away whatever weird idea Tilly might have in his head. His words don’t seem to convince him of anything though, as the way he opens the gift is almost reverent.

“Oh.” He says upon seeing the gift.

It’s a cheap pair of gloves, probably not the quality of the one’s the man wears even now—but Fellow has never seen him take off the pair in the first place. How a man who wears so many different styles of clothing could wear one pair of gloves with every single one of them alludes him, but it did give him the idea to buy him some more.

Much to his surprise, Tilly instantly pulls them out and then proceeds to take his current pair off.

He’s never seen him without them, and the sight is shocking for a variety of reasons. From the nonchalant way he performs the action, to the scars that are revealed as he slides the fabric off—crisscrossing along both his palms like someone ran a knife over them multiple times, forming a strange, morbid star.

He pulls the new pair on, face unreadable as he flexes his hands, and Fellow chooses not to comment on it. “So? How are they?” He asks instead.

“Hmm. Scratchier than my other pair.” Tilly says, and Fellow is instantly annoyed again, suddenly free from the spell of the strange moment.

“Tch, give them back if you don’t like them, then!” He scowls, grabbing Tilly’s hand to pull the gloves off himself. Annoying, ungrateful brat! He could at least pretend Fellow’s gift was good, he’d bought it with honestly earned money!

“Wow, hey!” The man grabs his hands right back, lacing their fingers together as a way to stop him. There’s better ways, definitely, but when has he ever done anything normally?

“Don’t do that.” Tilly says, glaring at him. “These are mine.”

“Wh—I bought them for you.” He protests, caught off guard by the odd handholding they’re now engaging in.

“Yeah, and now they’re mine.” Tilly’s green eyes soften, then, and he smiles. “Thanks.”

Fellow has seen many of Tilly’s smiles. He seems to never run out of them—a plethora of different moods and falsehoods. Mischievous grins, false masks of innocence, the flirty smile he gives men and women when he wants something from them. Somehow, he’s never seen this one from him. It feels more honest—a genuine emotion he’s never quite seen. It feels forbidden, and weirdly precious all at once.

The beastman rips his hands away, spinning on his heels so his back is to Tilly. “You better get me something good for my birthday, now.” He says seriously, and then immediately stalks away. There’s no movement behind him, so the chances of being followed are low. Good. He can only tolerate Tilly’s presence for so long, after all!

The minute he’s sure he’s out of the other’s eyesight, he releases a breath and tugs a hand roughly through his hair.

What was THAT? He thinks. Why do I feel embarrassed?

“It better be worth it when my birthday comes around.” Fellow mutters to himself, leaned against the wall of an alleyway.

He ignores the part of him that claims it was already worth it. That’s foolish—what did he get, a smile? That wasn’t useful at all.

[cheeseboi420]

Of A Feather - Chapter One Preview

A/N: hi everybody!!! I am super duper stoked to present u all with the first 2k words of Of A Feather, aka the "what if Jason's bio mom didnt SUCK" fic. Im hoping to have the full chapter ready for publishing in the next week or two! Big thanks to everyone who's talked to me abt this fic so far, and an ESPECIALLY big thanks to @jayladfanpage for basically being my jaybin encyclopedia while i work my way through this fic!!! This warning will be more applicable in future chapters but it should be noted that this fic is NOT canon compliant and does significantly change/recontextualize a couple things about Jason's background, but you the audience get to find out about all that in real time alongside Jason lmao!! Anyways, without further adieu, please enjoy this preview ❤️

You expect this evening to play out like the one before it. And the one before that. And the one before that. Your routine hasn't changed in the last 13 years. Why should it? It serves you well enough, keeps you alive and… Well, that's about all it does for you. Not that you're looking for more! For the most part, you are… content, maybe isn't the correct word. Complacent fits a little better, but still isn't wholly accurate. You're content in the knowledge that your boy is safe and loved, somewhere far away from the trouble that chases you. You're complacent in your own quiet misery. The longing and loneliness had been a bitter pill to swallow those first few years of running, but after this long you've learned not to complain. God knows no one would listen if you did.

You've got a shitty box pizza in the oven. This will be your dinner, tomorrow's breakfast, and tomorrow's dinner. You won't particularly enjoy any of the meals, but they'll sustain you well enough. These days, food brings you little, if any joy. Meal times are a chore to slog through before the distraction that work brings or the sweet embrace of sleep. You look forward to, more than anything, going to bed. Not because you're tired (though there is a bone deep weariness that permeates- that no amount of rest could ever fix) but because bed means sleep, and sleep means dreams, and dreams mean a chance to hold your baby again.

You don't dream of Jason every night, but every morning, you wake thinking of him. Is he still asleep right now? Having breakfast? Is he eating well? Is he happy? Is he happy? Is he happy?

By the time you push your way through breakfast most mornings the cacophony of thoughts revolving around your son quiets to a dull roar in the back of your mind. It's better that way, you think. If you thought about him as much as your mind seemed to want you to, you'd never get anything done.

Life carries on, you suppose. However dreary and dull that life may be.

At one time you'd found the whole thing very exciting- though not in a particularly enjoyable way. The adrenaline rush has worn off over the years, no longer do you feel as though death is nipping at your heels. The paranoia never fades though. Even if your doom does not cast a shadow over you, you're always looking over your shoulder, always ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble.

You keep a bag packed and ready in the closet by the front door for when you have to leave this place, too. Though, you think it's buried under a winter jacket and your spare blankets. You really ought to dig it out, keep it easily accessible. You should do that but… it's been a long day. You want to eat your shitty pizza, lay down on your futon, and let the sound of tv static fill your studio apartment, lulling you to sleep.

You're getting too comfortable here, you think. You've lived in Michigan for nearly a year now. It is simultaneously entirely too close to and entirely too far from Gotham. The apartment itself was a godsend after spending most of your time sleeping in cars, tents, whatever unfortunate business was willing to employ you, anywhere you could, really- sure it has bugs, and the windows don't close all the way, and you're fairly certain it'll only take one more bad winter storm for the place to come crumbling down, but rent is dirt cheap, and the slumlord you rent from didn't ask for any ID when you signed your ‘lease.’ You're fairly certain that thing's not legally binding anyways- it was written on a cocktail napkin for Christ's sake. That didn't stop you from using a fake name when signing it. You can never be too careful.

You haven't seen your landlord since you moved in anyways. You don't ask for maintenance when things break, you fix them yourself or just learn to live with them broken. You deliver your rent by slipping a cash stuffed envelope with your name (your fake name, the one you signed your lease with, the one you use at work, the one you'd use at coffee shops if you ever went to any) on it through the slot in the office door. You do your best to be invisible. You don't cause problems, and you don't go out of your way to fix them for others. You make no friends or enemies. You've left no impact on the many places you've been, the cities you've drifted through.

The only evidence you've gone anywhere at all in your life is a stack of postcards, held together with a worn rubber band, sitting at the bottom of your go-bag. The only evidence of a life lived before that is in a similarly bound stack of polaroids, held together with a too-small paperclip. Every now and then, you'll buy a bottle of cheap wine to chug as you pour over the old photographs. Only when you leave for a new city do you dare to touch the stack of unsent postcards.

You can't bear to look at the photos too often, a painful reminder of your own failings. A reminder of the stupid, reckless little girl you'd been and the shell of a woman you'd become in the aftermath.

It's all your own fault, really.

At least that's what you keep telling yourself.

It's easier to swallow than the alternative: that you were a vulnerable and unloved thing, eating from any hand that would feed you, until the hand that feeds decides to beat.

This, you think, is why you shouldn't think too hard about the past. It doesn't do you any good to dwell on it.

You force yourself to focus on the present, on the here and now. The scratchy polyester blend of the futon cushions, the scent of cheap cheese melting in the oven, the distant sound of sirens, and howling wind outside your apartment. There's no sense in thinking about Gotham now, not when you're so far from it.

You sit up on the futon, no longer content to lounge and let your mind wander. Instead you task yourself with flipping through channels on TV, seeking something mind numbing enough to distract you from your unusually strong urge to reminisce.

The Wonder Years? No, you don't want to watch anything about a family.

Alf? No, that puppet creeps you out.

Cops? Fuck that.

You're about to resign yourself to another night of murmuring the (mostly incorrect) answers to Jeopardy questions at your tv, when you're startled by a knock at your door.

A… knock… at your door.

No one ever knocks on your door. You don't get mail, you don't have friends, if your landlord wanted something, you're willing to bet the greasy bastard wouldn't be willing to haul himself all the way up to the fifth floor at nearly 10 PM.

Oh God… Did… Did he find you? Is this it? Are you going to die in the upper peninsula of Michigan, of all places?!

No, no. You have to stay calm. This could be anything. It's just a knock at the door. It could be anyone!

Oh lord, it could be anyone.

You keep the tv on, hoping that the sound of Alex Trebek grilling folks on useless trivia will cover your footsteps as you creep towards your front door. You hold your breath as you press yourself against it, double checking that all three of your locks are secure before you risk a glance out the peephole.

When you look out into the hall you're surprised, and frankly a bit confused by the sight before you. Standing at your door is a boy, dark haired and bright eyed. He stands straight but not particularly tall- he can't be more than five feet. He's glancing around the hall, rocking back and forth on his heels. He's wearing a red sweatshirt and jeans, with a backpack slung over one shoulder. Despite his small stature he holds an air of determination that makes you think he must feel quite old for his age- you get that, you were the same way in your own youth. A chip too big for your shoulder.

You're so focused on studying him that it startles you when he leans forward to knock again. You jolt, accidentally kicking the door (with your bare feet too, damn does that hurt your poor toes) and responding to his knock-knock-knock with a solid knock of your own.

“Hello?” The boy calls. “Anybody home?”

“I don't have any money!” You call back, cursing yourself for the shake in your voice. You should not be this rattled by a random adolescent on your doorstep. “So, if you're selling popcorn, or cookies, or whatever, you should try next door.”

The boy rolls his eyes.

“I'm not a boy scout!” He says. “I'm looking for-”

And then the shoe drops; he says your name. Your full name. Not your fake name, that you use at work, and on envelopes, and in hypothetical coffee shops. Your real name.

It takes every bit of emotional regulation you can muster not to spiral into a full blown panic right then and there because good God, did He send a child to finish you off? The cruel irony is not lost on you. Come to think of it, this boy on your doorstep does bear an uncanny resemblance to-

“My name is Jason Todd,” the boy continues. “And uh… well, I might be your son?”

He could be lying, the logical part of your brain insists. This could be a ploy to get you to open the door, don't open the door! But your hands are moving on their own, shakey as they may be. The first lock twists unlocked with ease, the second takes a fair bit more of your fine motor function, and by the time your shaking hands reach up to unhook the chain on the door, you're struggling to see through unshed tears. You attempt once, twice, three fucking times to get your hands to cooperate and unlatch the damn chain.

Fuck it.

You open the door, yanking it inwards, towards yourself as hard as you can. It should probably unnerve you that the flimsy chain breaks at the first sign of real resistance, but that's not what's important right now.

What's important is the boy standing before you- your boy. Your Jason.

He looks as surprised as you feel, his eyes flitting between the broken chain, and you.

For a long moment the only thing you can do is look at him, reacquaint yourself with the sight of him. Of course, you know that he did not stay frozen in time, the way your memory of him is. It's been many years since you've held that babbling toddler. But knowing and seeing are two different things.

He's small for his age, is your first thought. Your own fault, you're certain. Between a premature delivery and your own malnourishment during that first trimester, it's a miracle he'd survived in the first place. Small, but well fed. His cheeks are full and flushed. Despite his size, he seems healthy. Good. That means Will's been feeding him. Hopefully, it means they got the hell out of The Alley, into a nicer neighborhood.

His hair isn't as curly as you'd pictured it- too short in most places to hold a curl, save for his bangs, which seem to almost form the shape of a heart over his forehead.

“Jason?” You can barely manage to say his name through the lump in your throat. You find yourself suddenly struggling to focus your gaze on him, the haze of tears welling up in your eyes makes it difficult to see. You try to blink them away but instead they roll down your cheeks.

God, when's the last time you cried?

You reach out to him, cupping one of his cheeks in the palm of your shaking hand. He leans into the affectionate touch, and you're reminded of puppies, overeager and seeking love at every opportunity.

“Mom,” he says back to you, his tone just as reverent as your own. “Mom,” he says again, voice crackling. And then, in unison, the both of you have pulled each other into a crushing hug. You can't tell if the sound you make is a sob or a laugh. You hold onto Jason like he'll vanish into the ether if you loosen your hold for even a second, one hand clutching at the back of his sweatshirt, the other at the back of his head, petting his hair as he buries his face in your neck.

Finally, at long last, your heart is home.

SO. What do we think folks. Are you hooked? I hope youre hooked. Please be hooked. I wanna talk to people about this fic so damn bad. Please send anons or dms or literally anything. When the chapter is complete I'll be putting it up here as well as on my ao3, which I'll link to! Thanks so much for reading and i hope yall are enjoying yourselves so far! Send me an anon or a dm if you'd like to be included on the taglist for this series!

TAGLIST: @leirobles

[butchspace]

I guess I kind of just use this account for PSAs now, and this has been on my mind a lot lately.

I figured out that I have OCD a few years ago, and recently I’ve seen a lot of bad advice around dealing with intrusive thoughts and obsessions.

There’s that post that goes around occasionally about “taking pictures of your oven knobs before you leave” or other things I’ve seen that say to “make a weird face when you lock your door.” THESE ARE COMPULSIONS. If you have/suspect you have OCD or you often struggle with things like that, please do not follow this advice. Instead, try to accept your intrusive thoughts and move on, not argue with them. Over time, they will get easier and easier to deal with. Ruminating, stressing, or arguing with them just makes them worse in the long run.

If you think you might have OCD and want to seek a specialist, the IOCDF’s home page has a lot of resources under the “find help” tab, including a locator.

I’m going to put the rest under a read-more because I’m going to talk a bit more in depth about intrusive thoughts and compulsions. This mostly because good OCD info is so sparse on line, and I’ve spent many hours compulsively researching OCD lmao.

Content warning:

discussion of unreality/doubting one’s own perception

discussion of specific compulsions

I’m not going to push this point too hard or shame anyone who doesn’t want to follow it, because OCD doesn’t really just go away. It’s a constant struggle. I give in to compulsions regularly, even though I am medicated and have seen a specialist to learn actual coping skills. It’s hard to resist sometimes and you don’t always have the energy, the awareness, or the power to ignore them. You do what you have to do to get through your day. The main difference is that the right medication and the right therapist make it easier to stay out of the spiral and to leave a spiral when you’re in one. They still happen. You still kind of have to play everything by ear.

Similarly, it is super fucking hard to get help or even get diagnosed. No regular therapist actually knows what the fuck it looks like, and specialists are few and far between and often don’t take insurance. It’s not fair or easy or necessarily productive to try and do exposure response prevention on yourself. Your “good coping skills” can even turn into an obsession or compulsion, where you’re constantly worried about what is an intrusive thought and what is not, or if you’re responding to them properly.

What I want to do is try to give at least some useful advice to people who are struggling with intrusive thoughts.

The best way to respond to them is not at all. This is especially true with OCD, because the response to them is sort of the root of this disorder. Sometimes, it’s recommended that with depression or anxiety you challenge your thoughts. In OCD, it’s the opposite. Challenging them can so easily lead you down a compulsion spiral. (More about that cycle from a professional.)

Compulsions can be entirely mental, but I’ll use a common behavioral one to look at how engaging with compulsions can go:

You start by taking a picture of the your stove knobs to make sure they’re all off. That works for a few hours or days, but then you start wondering if the knob is ever-so-slightly in the “on” position. You wonder if the picture proves they’re off enough. You forget to take the picture at all, and have to go back in to check anyways. You check your phone a few times before leaving to ensure that the picture is still there. You take several pictures because you can’t tell if you actually took any at all. You start to wonder if you can even trust what you see before your very eyes. What if you’re just imagining that the knobs are set to off? What if you’re just imagining the whole picture to begin with? The picture allows you to engage with your checking compulsion throughout the day, strengthening the connection between the intrusive thought and the urgency to do something about it. That means it gets worse. That means you find new ways to doubt your perception or your memory or whatever.

It can eventually get really bad. It’s hard and awful to try and deal with this on your own, but sometimes you have to.

It’s so shit. It’s so fucking shit how long many people suffer with mental illness without even knowing what’s going on. I didn’t know that my constant, overwhelming guilt over almost everything I’d ever thought or said or done or maybe did and couldn’t remember was the result of a disorder. It was so freeing to realize there was actually something that might help me, and I could learn to just live with myself and my weird ass thoughts that don’t necessarily mean anything at all. It’s so shit that OCD-awareness is so low among therapists. I was never going to get diagnosed until I found an OCD SPECIALIST (bold, italicized, all caps. Don’t trust people on psychology today who just put OCD in the list of what they treat.) and went over the Y-BOCS with her. It’s all so shit that several therapists I came to with textbook examples of OCD either ignored me or didn’t have the tools to help. I told one of them I “didn’t feel connected to reality” and he kind just went 🤷.

I just want everyone who is in that/a similar situation to at least have this information available to them.

If you want to learn more, these blogs from Sheppard Pratt were the best discussion of OCD I found online that really described what I was going through. They’re written by licensed therapists, several (all?) of whom live with OCD. They’re very healing to read if this is something you’re struggling with, or something you think you might be struggling with, and great in general if you want to learn more about OCD.

Whatever’s going on, OCD or not, have some grace with yourself. Take a few minutes today and do something kind for yourself, even just think one nice thing about yourself. You’re doing the best you can.