#i learned this shit the hard way. and learning is different than internalizing

[comicaurora]

So uhh. If you feel like talking about it. As someone who lives in the US, how are you being kind to yourself on this upsetting morning <3

Checked in with my loved ones first and foremost.

It's interesting. The vibe I've been getting from my circle is very different from 2016. Much less… dread and horror at a realignment of the understanding of what can and can't happen here, now, in this place and day and age. More "fuck, guys. again? whatever. enjoy your consequences, maybe you'll manage to learn something this time."

Frustration and anger is not the most positive feeling, or even the most fair one to express, but it is a protective one. It hurts a lot less than most alternatives.

And it's quite a shift. It was earthshattering back then. How could this have been allowed to happen? Why couldn't it be stopped? Why couldn't we stop it? Why couldn't I stop it? Why couldn't everyone see what this meant? Why couldn't I make them understand? Did they really not care? What did that mean about humanity as a whole? Were we so thoughtless? How could anyone be trusted?

It seems… much less earthshattering to see it happen twice. Disappointing, sure. Frustrating. But nowhere near as devastating as the first time I saw it unfold. We already knew it could happen. I've already had time to digest the implications. Now I'm just freshly disappointed.

It also feels less indicative of Crushing Truths Of Reality this time. We've seen shit get bad. We've also seen shit get better from here! We know both outcomes are possible, even inevitable. We know hoping for a better future is always worthwhile. This isn't the apocalypse. It's an unremarkably bad turn of events brought on by unremarkably self-centered well-documented human impulses. It's utterly mundane in its unpleasantness. It doesn't need to be dignified with despair.

A democratic election, no matter the outcome or the side we're on, makes us all acutely aware of how outnumbered we are by people whose worldviews and priorities are demonstrably incomprehensible to us. And the first time you get outnumbered, it's a shock. Defeat is haunting. It didn't matter how badly you wanted it; by the very function of democracy, you do not have the power to override greater numbers. (insert electoral college caveat here)

The second time through, I find myself focusing on a different facet that has dramatically reduced the amount of spiralling I'm doing. I don't expect this to work for everyone, but for me specifically, it helped to crystallize a few thoughts:

You don't have the power to control anyone else. You don't. You can't share your worldview and your revelations with them. You can't make them think or understand anything. You can lay it all out for them, but you can't make them listen, and you can't make it click. A mentor can't make their student learn a lesson; that's why teaching is so complicated and hard. An active choice must be made by the person to enable themselves to understand, and they must put the pieces together in their own mind before it makes sense to them, and the pieces must have been presented in a way that makes sense to them in the first place. Lead a horse to water, can't make them drink.

These elections highlight a disconnect in what different groups of people care about; and no matter how clearly you explain yourself or how passionately you perform, caring cannot be forced on someone. Understanding and connection cannot be forced. You cannot make anything or anyone matter to someone. They have to choose to see how it matters in order to internalize it. If they choose not to, that is not your failing. You couldn't have made them do it by just Explaining Better. They are not your responsibility. They make their own choices. You can't reach inside their head and connect the dots for them.

I'm a storyteller. I make stories and put them out into the world. I hope people get something good out of them, but I have no control over what that something is. I want people to be thoughtful and kind and compassionate and hopeful and see themselves reflected in stranges, no matter their differences. I can craft stories that I hope encourage this. But that is the extent of my ability and the extent of my responsibility. I control no-one's actions but my own, and so while I am not having the best day, I am at least content that I am doing what I can, and I am not shattering myself against impossibilities trying to control the things I can't.

Sometimes, people make decisions that I think are really bad. I can't make that not happen. All I can do is try to make decisions that will result in things I think are good. Today, that means checking in on people, and not assigning too much dramatic narrative weight to an ultimately mundane set of unremarkable bad decisions outside of my control. We'll take life as it comes and help each other out when and how we can. Everything else is out of our hands.

[beifong-brainrot]

People will go on about how "Katara's story is a tragedy" because she... ended up marrying the guy she loves, having children and grandchildren which she was always excited about and literally becoming a master waterbender and rising to the top of her field as a healer.

Yes, Katara's story has tragic aspects to it. And there are certainly flaws in how she is written in tlok (Though I will argue that there are actually more issues with how Toph and Zuko are just plopped in there for no reason in later seasons). And her storylines aren't perfect, for example her resolving her trauma around the murder of her mother being more used to prop up Zuko than her own internal turmoil. (Most of TSR is from Zuko's perspective and I hate that actually)

"Katara's story is a tragedy" Why do you have such a hard on for this woman's misery? Let her be happy, man.

You know what gaang girlie's life is an actual onscreen tragedy?

Toph's!

People will fucking downplay Toph's childhood abuse because she wasn't physically hurt, but her childhood was a never ending carousel of abelism, misogyny, neglect and isolation. The way Toph describes her parent's treatment of her as "pressure and pain" is heartbreaking.

Toph's only escape was Earth Rumble and earthbending, but despite her skills, she remained the perfect little lady her parents always wanted her to be. She's never known a different life, and she was only able to be her real self in secret.

And when Toph finally opens up to her parents, when she finally lays her real self bare in front of the people who are supposed to love and care for her?

She is met with what may be, in my opinion, the cruellest rejection in the show.

Despite this, even when Toph runs away, she still cares for her parents' approval. Hell, she's even lured into a trap due to her getting a forged letter from her mom and getting excited because it looked like her mom was finally accepting her.

It's also important to note how determined to be self sufficient and to prove herself Toph is. We can especially see this right after she joins the Gaang, where she refuses to participate in splitting with the rest of the group, insisting on "pulling her own weight". This isn't Toph being a brat, or spoilt, this is her wanting to prove that she can handle herself because people have handled and understimated her her entire life.

Eventually, Toph starts to learn to trust the members of the Gaang and this is a step in the right direction. She's literally making friends for the first time in her life I'm so proud of her.

However, I was genuinely upset when Toph's life changing field trip with Zuko didn't work out. When Toph was trying to connect with Zuko and he blew her off (I'm not blaming him tho they had shit to do), I couldn't help but remember the rejection Toph suffered from Lao.

Post canon, Toph continues to try and prove herself, starting a metalbending school and training new metalbenders.

She also reconciles with her father. Not before Lao disowns he rmultiple times and calls her a rude, ungrateful thing. And while he eventually comes to understand Toph and cherish her, that type of trauma sticks with you.

So it's no wonder really that Toph, someone who went her entire childhood seemingly without even speaking to someone her age, would have trouble forming connections. She has children with two different men, neither of which seem to stick around.

Toph tries to do right by her daughters and gives them the freedom she never got. Sadly, the pendulum swung too far to the other side, since it seems that she started to neglect her daughters, which led to them developing a sleugh of issues of their own.

Toph becomes the cheif of police, which kind of makes sense. Republic City was only slowly emerging as an actual metropolis. Toph took on a role as a protector, and probably as a way to prove herself. But as Republic City grew, Toph probably realised that she became something she hated. A cog in the machine, and started to despise her job.

Searching for a semblance of the freedom and happiness her travels afforded her in her childhood, Toph leaves the city and takes up the life of a hermit in a swamp. She managed to fix her relationship with Suyin to some extent, but still seems reluctant or simply unable to connect with her daughter or grandchildren. Since she apparently hasn't seen Opal, a grown 20 year old woman since she was a little girl.

On the surface old Toph doesn't seem terribly dissimilar to young Toph, still tough and spunky. But she is more jaded, depressed and pessimistic. She comes out to save Suyin from immediate harm and manages to somewhat reconcile with Lin, but then she fucks right back off to the swamp where she seems to literally hide until Wu and Korra straight up force her to come with them.

Toph's story began with her alone and it seems to end with her alone as well. It's a story of a girl who grew up isolated and handled by others, and was woefully unprepared for the real world, which only jaded her further. She lives with the guilt of fucking up her daughters' lives and a belief in the pointlessness of life.

Toph started off longing to experience the world and ended up willingly isolating herself from it.

If that isn't a tragedy, I'm not sure what is.

Mind you, this is not the trauma olympics. I'm not saying that Toph has suffered more than Katara or that Katara's trauma is not as valid as Toph's. Katara and Toph's experiences are completely different, Katara being a victim of genocide and war, Toph being a victim of child abuse. I'm just saying that, objectively, Katara had a happier 'ending' than Toph.

[corkinavoid]

For @mysterious-messages, to 'Bless the child' by Nightwish

DPxDC Long Time No See

The crow was incredibly persistent. Which, of course, made it ten times more annoying in John's opinion, because he was trying very, very hard not to pay attention to the pitch-black bird with blood red eyes that was perched right outside the window.

Can't he have one single night where no impossibly powerful force of nature interrupts his attempt to drown himself in liquor? Honestly.

The crow knocks on the window again. Three perfectly timed knocks; this bloody bird sure knows how to draw attention, but it also definitely knows Constantine is avoiding it. Which is why it's insisting on making itself a nuisance, no doubt.

To be fair, John is not even entirely sure who's crow is it. Morpheus has a crow at his disposal, but his crow is a bitch. He wouldn't have simply sat on the windowsill and enjoyed annoying Constantine for the sheer spite of it. Death has her crows as well - very thematic, if you ask John - and then there was that one asshole raven that claimed itself belonging to Apollo.

And then, of course, there was-

Actually, maybe he should see what the crow wants. Might be important, after all.

Constantine sighs and puts his whiskey back on the bar before standing up. The world tilts to the side a bit - he might have had a few too many drinks, yeah. But then maybe it's just the side effect of the messenger crow being here, who knows. Constantine would rather put his money on the latter for the sake of his dignity. Not that he has much of that left.

He makes his way to the window, looks at the crow for a long moment, making his last internal debate obvious, and then opens the window.

"The hell do you want?" He asks, but quickly realises it was in vain.

He is not at the bar anymore.

Instead, he is standing in the middle of a graveyard, surrounded by tombstones, fog, and eerie silence. 4/10 on the creepy effect, John has definitely seen this shit done better.

The cloaked figure sitting on the nearest tombstone stays silent, watching him with unblinking, blood red eyes. John sighs again, pinches the bridge of his nose, and reaches into the pocket of his trenchcoat for cigarettes. If he ended up out of the bar anyway, he might as well use it for a smoke break.

"I'd rather you not," the cloaked being says, not a demand but a request by the sound of it. Constantine grimaces, but puts the pack back in the pocket. Arguing with this one will get him exactly nowhere.

"What's this all about, then?" He vaguely gestures around himself, at all the death, decay, and other things that start with the letter 'D'. "I never knew you're into this kind of thing. Very Mary Shelley of you," he raises an eyebrow.

The being - the Dead God, the Ghost of Time, Clockwork, Chronos, and any other name he likes calling himself - huffs a deep, low and breathy laugh. Then, he stands up, his feet firmly planted on the ground for once. He looks different to how John is used to seeing him, all sharp edges and monochrome colors, shiny leather oxfords and loose sleeves with tight cuffs.

Honestly, he kind of reminds Constantine of vampires. He really hopes this is not actually some kind of a new kink of his because John so didn't count on that kind of night. Despite what he's said before.

"No," Chronos shakes his head, his appearance shifting from young to middle-aged. Constantine blinks; if there's anything he learned about the Dead God through their various get-togethers, it's that his age usually reflects his level of seriousness.

But he doesn't have time to ask, nor does he get a moment to prepare, when a child, a literal goddamn child no older than ten steps out from behind Clockwork.

It looks like a boy, dressed in jeans and a blue hoodie with a NASA logo on it, and- He does look like Clockwork. Same pale skin, same eerie, unblinking eyes, same unearthly air around him.

Only, his eyes are a faint blue, like ice and winter skies. Like Constantine's eyes.

The unholy fuck. And he means it literally.

"Is that-" he starts, his throat suddenly dry, pointing his finger at the boy before he even thinks about it, but the Ghost of Time laughs again, a dirty grin on his lips.

"Yours? No, thank the Ancients," he says, making sure to sound just a tad bit offended even if John can see the mirth on his face. Bloody wanker. Constantine lets out a slow, loud breath through his nose.

"Amen to that," he agrees and looks at the kid again. And, as soon as the initial shock wears off, a sneaking suspicion starts to form in his mind. He narrows his eyes. "I don't want to ask, I really don't, but I'm going to anyway. Why?"

Clockwork's face looks distant for a moment, his features shifting into old.

"A child blessed by time has no home in his own life. A child blessed by death has no place among others," he says, and John hates when they speak in riddles, but he thinks he might be getting this one right. "I am only loved when I'm gone, the moments being held dear in memory. But a child does not deserve that," Clockwork's voice sounds almost sad, and, while John does understand it's supposed to be a metaphor, it doesn't feel like one.

But then, he is the Time itself. Maybe for him it's not really a metaphor.

He looks back to the kid, and catches the boy looking away with a grimace. Seems like they have at least one thing in common - they both hold a great distaste to Cronos' solemn way of talking.

Constantine is so going to regret this, but he knows where the Dead God is leading.

"Yeah, okay," he rubs his face with one hand, and, before he has time to ask or say another word, the whole graveyard is gone, and he is standing back in the bar, the low murmur of nightly crowd and warm light around him. Just like before he opened the window to the blood-eyed crow.

The only difference between then and now is the kid standing by his side, looking at him like John is the stupidest man he'd ever seen. Oh, he is already regretting this.

Constantine drops his hand down and goes back to the bar, where he left his drink.

"Want a beer?" He asks, and the kid rolls his eyes, trailing after him.

"I'm twelve," he deadpans, and, yeah, okay, he's got a point.

Fuck it, he is calling in a favor from Bats. That man has, like, twenty kids, he should have some parenting advice.

~•~•~•~

Yeah, the song really reminded me of Clockwork for some reason. Why am I loved only when I'm gone? is really stricking me as a line written for him because you only cherish the time after it's gone, you smile at your memories and pictures, but you rarely ever pay attention to it in the moment.

Also, I did my best with the Gothic aesthetic there, and here's the additional vibe.

Clockwork, just dropping a random ass kid on his occasional one night stand and vanishing into the night, knowing that John Constantine has a soft spot for kids and won't just fuck off to who knows where: it's for the greater good the better timeline

Danny, left alone with a clearly too drunk to think magician whose soul looks like a jigsaw puzzle: the fuck it's not

[lalalychee-x]

Embarrassing turn on —COD x reader

★ Full fic links are available! May or not be released, but they ARE being worked on!! MAN, I HAD A THOUGHT. I HAVE THINKED A THOUGHT so let me share COD MEN (and Valeria my wife)'s EMBARRASSING TURN ONS!... included: Ghost, Soap, Konig, Valeria, Graves, Alejandro CW: SFW & NSFW mix... afab reader due to use of "cunt" but you can read it however you like tbh! tiny implied hint of feeling sleepy, size difference, arguments, use of "sir", mention of "daddy" (not ddlg), COD tumblr needs its own tw tbh,,,

--- ★ GHOST! is a stoic, self-controlled man. He’s seen it all, done it all—until you mumble his name in that half-asleep, dazed little voice.

It happens one night when he gets into bed late. You’re already knocked out, curled up, warm and soft and safe. He tries to move carefully, but his weight shifts the mattress, and you stir—just barely.

"Mmm… Simon…?"

Your voice is husky, slurred with sleep, confused but trusting. And fuck—something about it makes his stomach drop. His breath hitches, body tensing.

You’re not even fully awake. You just blindly reach for him, pressing against him like instinct. He loves it, loves the fact that someone wants and needs him. And suddenly? He’s way too aware of how easy it’d be to pull you closer, bury his face in your neck, feel you melt into him.

Or how easy it would be to pull you over and slide your sweet cunt onto his throbbing cock and—

And that’s when he realizes—he’s bricked up over this. Over your sleepy, vulnerable little voice. Over the fact that you reach for him like he belongs there in that clumsy way like you can't do shit.

Embarrassing? Yeah. Is he gonna admit it? Hell no.

FULL FIC HERE...

---

★ SOAP! Listen, Soap is an ass man—he loves all of you, of course, but that backside? That’s his favorite view. He'd be the type to rest his hand on your ass while cuddling, whether its innocent or dirty. He would SMACK that! No matter what size you have, he's making it jiggle.

So when you casually gather your hair up into a ponytail? When you pull it up, exposing your neck, stretching just enough to make your back arch? He’s GONE.

God, he's imagining bending you over, trailing his hands down your sides and slipping those pants off you slowly so they drag along your skin.

It doesn’t even have to be sexy. You could be getting ready for a workout, throwing your hair up while talking about something completely unrelated. Just how hard-working you are, how concentrated you look, the sounds of frustration when your hair won't set right. But Soap? He’s biting his lip, eyes locked onto you, internally fighting for his life.

And don’t even get him started on the way a few loose strands fall around your face. Or worse—when you catch him staring and give him a knowing smirk.

Embarrassing? Absolutely. But does he care? Not even a little.

FULL FIC HERE...

---

★ KONIG! is huge. Literally, he's 6'10 and spans the latitude of a mountain range. Yeah so, he’s down SO BAD for any moment that reminds him how much bigger he is than you.

He originally hated it, enlisting in the military just to make some use of his stature, but when you unintentionally remind him of the size difference? He slowly learned to love it and love himself through you.

But the real killer? When you have to stretch up onto your tiptoes to reach something—especially if he’s standing behind you.

The way you strain, reaching up, your body tilting just slightly, struggling and cursing under your breath? It does something to him. Something primal. Something embarrassing because this man was definitely never taught about his own pleasure.

His hands twitch with the urge to grab you, to lift you up effortlessly like you weigh nothing. Maybe spin you around and admire your shocked little face. His brain is short-circuiting, caught between “help them” and “fuck, that’s adorable.”

Or maybe he's thinking of how lewdly your cunt has to stretch to his size, watching his thick cock stuttering and struggling to fit inside you. The way it sinks in, slow and agonising and how he softly apologises over and over again as he does it...

And if you look at him over your shoulder and ask, “König, can you help me?” in that soft, innocent voice?

Fuck, he doesn't know if he can stop himself.

FULL FIC HERE...

---

★ VALERIA! is in deep denial about this one.

Valeria loves control. She’s used to people obeying her without question. So when you get a little feisty? When you challenge her, talk back with that teasing lilt in your voice?

She should be annoyed. She should put you in your place.

Instead? Her heart is hammering.

She's conflicted. Half of her wants to size you up to see you tremble in fear, dirty talking at you with passive RAGE until you're wet and apologising just to get fucked.

The other half wants to grab you, tug you down onto her lap and let you shout at her all you want while she bites her lip and nods, watching you as if (and you are) the love of her life.

Because you’re not scared of her. Because you meet her fire with your own. And it's refreshing to know that someone's there to meet her at eye-level, see what she's seeing and talk to her like they have a mind of their own because frankly, everyone she meets is an idiot.

And the worst part? If you smirk after a particularly bold remark, acting all smug? She’s gonna have to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling back.

Infuriating. Humiliating. And hot as hell.

FULL FIC HERE...

---

★ ALEJANDRO! Listen—this man loves his mother tongue. And hearing it from you? Instant weakness. Hearing it ANGRILY from you? He's finished.

He enjoys it; enjoys and loves the effort you put into learning his language or incorporating it daily because you knew it anyway.

But the real kicker? When you get frustrated and let a curse slip out in Spanish. Especially if it’s because of him.

Imagine: you’re arguing, and suddenly you huff, "¡Por Dios, Alejandro!"

His brain? EMPTY. His pulse? SKYROCKETING. Something clicks and suddenly all his thoughts rush to his cock, getting hard when he should be mad at you. He can't even retort back and he SHOULD be mad, his irritation melting away as his pants tighten. Because he's picturing him holding your legs open, knees right up to your tits and strained curses in Spanish spilling out of your mouth.

Something about the way your voice wraps around his language? The raw emotion behind it? Yeah, he’s done for.

And if you ever say "¡Cállate!" in a teasing, exasperated way?

He’s either kissing you or ruining you on the spot.

FULL FIC HERE...

---

★ GRAVES! is used to people calling him “sir” in a professional sense. It’s normal. Expected.

But when you say it? Casually? In a teasing, playful, or even just an offhand way? He shouldn't think this, and he should stay professional.

His body locks up. His brain just—shuts down. Because damn, he's a workaholic, takes his work very seriously and when he tangles the love of his life with that? He's going to overheat.

Imagine: You’re joking around, and he hands you something. You smirk and go, “Thanks, sir.”

God, he wants to give you something to really thank him for, right at his desk in his office— to shut that smart mouth of yours with his cock in your mouth even when he knows your smirk wouldn't falter in the slightest...even when you're gagging through it.

His grip tightens, his jaw clenches, and he has to force himself to play it cool. Because if you keep saying that? With that tone?

He’s not responsible for what happens next.

FULL FIC HERE...

[myhornysaga]

mmmm what is that certain incident... do graves and lawyer reader have kids ?? Or.... 👀 👀mmmmmm im watching from the shadowzzz

𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐚𝐫 𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝

A/n: thank you for reading my work anon♡ the secret will be revealed, stay tuned

I'm planning on this chapter be divided in two parts so this is part 1 of this chapter. Songs recommended, in order: people in the front row, end of beginning, angel of the morning.

Tags: mdni, graves x Lawyer wife reader, established relationship, mentions of sex, pregnancy.

Part 2, Series masterlist , M.list

You and Graves had a kid.

A daughter.

She was born with the best of you and your husband Phil.

Just after a year of being married you discovered you were pregnant. Thanks to the little rendezvous the night before your husband was leaving for his 364 days deployment in the middle east.

He was in Marines back then and you worked as a full time criminal lawyer at your father's Firm, one of the three top Law firms specializing in International Laws and Extradition.

You were learning international criminal law under one of the most recognizable lawyers and a dear friend of your father, Mona De La Sierre.

Everything was going smooth, your career was at peak and you were only in your late 20s, till you discovered...

You have missed your periods for 2 months.

At first you had your doubts, no way you could be pregnant right? But its been 2 and half months since you and Phil had- no! Lets not have false hope. A simple pregnancy test will reveal whatever it is!

You sat on the toilet seat of the housing quarter. You had done 3 pregnancy tests and they all came... positive.

And it started.

You couldn't believe you were pregnant. You wanted scream and yell out of happiness and let everyone know Mr and Mrs Graves are having a kid!

You wanted the first person to know about this to be none other than the perpetrator! You couldn't just wait to call him. But you had to wait because you can only call him at night due to different time zones.

Despite staying awake past midnight and 14 calls, none were answered. You tried one last time before giving up and call next day.

The 15th call was answered by someone else.

"Hello? Phil? Babe?", you asked nervously.

"Hello?" The voice said

"Ahem... I'm trying to reach Sergeant Phillip Graves. I'm his wife is he there?" You questioned on the line.

"Uh no maam im sorry but the Sergeant will not be available for four weeks."

"4 weeks? You gotta be kidding me!", you huffed in frustration.

"Thats what im told Mrs Graves."

--------------------------------------------------

4.5 weeks later.

Location: Marines Reconnaissance Base in [Redacted]

Sergeant Graves had returned to the base after leading a successful Recon mission without any casualties.

"Sergeant!" A marine called out for Graves in his tent, "sir you have a letter from home"

"Just in time", he chuckled as he sat down on his bed after a long and hard few weeks, finally resting on a proper bed instead of a dug out pit.

"The envelope looks big. Look out Graves, this could be divorce papers" one his teammates joked.

"Yeah totally. Chicks throw you divorce paper if you don't talk to em in every two hours. Haha", another one joined in

"Nah boys i don't think its that.", Philip tried to convince.

"Thats what captain Jerome said", another one jumped in and everyone started laughing. While Graves just shook his head while chuckling along and opening the envelope and started reading it.

He stood up straight out of shock, letter still in hand.

"Told ya its them divorce papers", the guys said.

"What is it Graves?", one of them asked in a serious tone now.

Everyone could still see the absolute shock on the Sergeant's face.

His heart was racing out of excitement, "Holy shit boys, im gonna be a father!", Graves said to his teammates.

Everyone in the tent started congratulating him and hugging the man. Some quipped with the question whether the kid is his or- Graves wouldn't let them finish and just hand them the DNA papers, solidifying his paternity.

The letter,

"My love, i hope you are doing well. I tried to reach you several times through call but i was informed that you are not available for 4 weeks.

Its an awful long time to wait to let everyone know. But remember this, i want YOU to be the first to know of this, that you are going to be a FATHER soon!

I checked in with the doctors and its confirmed! I am 3 months in. By the time you arrive, we'll be a family of three my bub.

And before you or your jarhead boys start questioning the legitimacy of OUR child, i will be attaching DNA tests as well, have fun.

So thats that. You are going to be a dad Phil! You better come back in one piece!

With love and warm hugs

Y/n L/n Graves xo".

.

Part 4

[sinisterexaggerator]

Final Straw

Nick Valentine x Fem Reader | Ao3

Summary: You're sick to death of listening to people insult and belittle Nick; you take matters into your own hands, much to the Synth's surprise, but your methods are a little bit unorthodox.

Warnings: None, except for blood, violence, and foul language. NICK GETS SUPER PISSED AT YOU, and you also share a kiss. 💋

IT'S FLUFF.

Notes: This is SELF-INDULGENT AF. I hate it when people insult Nick in the game. This is my way of getting them back! And I want to kiss him and tell him I love him so bad. ;-:

Word count: 2k

It was the final straw, the one that broke the brahmin’s back, Nick Valentine left to defend himself against hate and bigotry for the umpteenth time, and you would not be party to it.

For so long you had traveled by Nick’s side, learning of the many facets to his personality. If there was a single thing about him you did not like, it had to be the ease with which he practiced self-deprecation, not knowing how to remedy the awful perception he had about himself.

Oftentimes, he regurgitated what came out the mouths of others; it had been internalized, compartmentalized, processed, and stored in his long-term memory, the detective unable to let things go—just like so many cases that remained unsolved.

“Shit, a Synth— don’t come near me. What a freak, thinks he’s human…”

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t go near you if it meant tomorrow I’d wake up from this nightmare.”

Your soul ached, knowing that every insult, every snide remark caused some level of psychic damage to your partner, his expressions all too readable for those times he was robbed of his fragile dignity, though always walking away the bigger man.

A culmination of varying factors led you to this, Nick’s tragic past haunting not only himself, but you; what you wouldn’t give to make it better, only wishing you had the power to convince him he was worth more than half the Commonwealth combined.

If Valentine could equate himself to nothing more than garbage, you could be the one to remind him that someone else’s trash was frequently another’s treasure— in this case, he was yours.

Though not privy to your feelings, you adored Nick completely. So much so, you were not above engaging in a physical altercation on his behalf.

“Say that again,” you threatened scathingly, turning to face the asshole who had just dared to disrespect your companion, and for no good reason.

“I said he’s a freak, lady—and what’s a pretty thing like you doing traveling with him, anyway?” the ill-mannered caravan guard asked, acting as if Valentine was some disease he could catch, making a blatant show of his disgust. 

The hired gun pulled no reaction from the Synth, though Nick stared at you tight-lipped, unnatural, glowing eyes trained hard on your face. His silence spoke volumes, instructing you with a stern look beneath the shade of his hat to drop the matter and turn the other cheek—it was something you weren’t willing to do this time, meeting your newfound enemy head-on.

“Apologize!” you demanded, shoving your adversary backward with a forceful push, both your palms making contact with his ribs. Your cheeks burned, accompanying a rise in your temper, readying yourself for if this vermin should do anything but grovel at Nick’s feet.

“Forget it, this guy ain’t worth it,” Nick offered laconically, hoping to appeal to your common sense. “I’ve heard worse in my time; being called a freak is the least of my concerns.”

“But you’re worth it!” you protested, Valentine’s forehead arcing upward at the conviction in your voice. He had a momentary lapse, his concentration faltering as he tried to get a handle on the situation, Nick having visualized an entirely different outcome based on variables that were currently in flux—namely the sudden change in your mood.

It seemed the shithead had caught on, smarter than he looked, eyeing the two of you with suspicion and derision, as if the very idea you could have feelings toward this hunk of junk was baffling when able-bodied, strong men like him existed.   

“Oh, I get it. You’re real sick, lady, a real pervert—you fucking a machine? What’s the matter, human men aren’t good en—”

The jerk was cut off mid-sentence, your balled up fist coming into contact with his jaw; a resounding crack split sound waves as blood spurted from his lips. His colleagues had already wandered off down the road, not wanting to be a part of whatever trouble he had found himself in, having silently agreed to let this member of their team fend for himself.

“You fucking bitch!” the guard twice your size growled, swinging wildly only to miss. Your leg extended; you were pleased when he stumbled, only wishing he had fallen flat on his face.

“Now, wait a—”

He was quick to right himself, spinning on the ball of his heel—you were quicker, kneeing him in the nuts so hard he doubled over, but you weren’t finished yet.

Lifting your arm to gain momentum, you drove the point of your elbow into his spine, causing the offender to drop onto the dirt at your feet.

“I'd say he's down for the—”

Nick couldn’t get a word out; you didn’t appear to be listening, the android observing your uncharacteristic actions with rapt concern. You were pounding your knuckles into the bastard’s nose repeatedly, sticky crimson coating your fist and the man’s sorely wounded face.

As if coming to from a trance, Valentine whisked forward, snatching your wrist before you could cause the poor schmuck any more damage, thinking he may look worse off than even he, what with his bare wires and metal frame exposed to the elements.

“Hey! What’s gotten into you?!” Nick barked, his tone alone condemning your inappropriate conduct, the Synth yanking you up so fast you audibly gasped.

“There ain’t no excuse for this—this guy may be a jackass, but that doesn’t mean he deserves to die!” Nick protested, brows knit in anger the likes of which you had never seen.

You glanced down, only now seeming to notice the extent of his injuries; the man was out like a light. You only cared because he did.

“Nick, I—” you began, voice quavering, losing all resolve as you had been forced to witness Valentine’s sweet disposition vanish, quickly replaced by something undeniably frightening.

You never once imagined yourself to be the victim of his choler, finding you absolutely hated it, breaking down all at once to cry despite not meaning to. You felt simultaneously overwhelmed by guilt and embarrassed beyond measure, unable to look him in the eye.

“Don’t Nick me, this isn’t like you, this—” The man froze, his grip slackening as he loosely held on, thoroughly confused by how you could go from nearly murdering a man in cold blood with your bare hands, to shedding tears in the span of under a minute; he moved to grasp you by your shoulders.

“What’s going on?” he asked, perplexed, the question dry on his tongue. He searched your face for any hint of what the matter was, wondering if you’d lost a screw sometime after leaving Diamond City, as he thought he had a handle on how you operated.

You could not will yourself to respond, vision clouded, droplets pelting your cheeks as you gazed at the ground. You felt worse than a scolded child; you had never meant to upset him so, it being decidedly more terrible than any physical pain you had yet to endure.

“Look at me, damn you!” Valentine demanded, gently jostling you back to the present moment, though your tears only increased, Nick having never cursed at you before.

“Valentine,” you whispered, eyes shimmering, Nick’s fury subsiding to a dull roar as he waited for you to explain yourself. The crease of his brow evened out, the Synth notably more relaxed, though he did not trust you wouldn’t lash out again.

“Go on,” he urged sharply, wanting to get to the bottom of your behavior. It was unnerving, not knowing what else you were capable of at the drop of a dime.

It was an understatement to say that he was surprised when you lifted your arms, pulling the man forward to enfold in your tight embrace. You buried your cheek in the tattered, stained fabric of his coat, crying more softly now as it started to rain.

“Don’t listen to them,” you pleaded, “don’t ever listen to them. You’re perfect just the way you are,” you spoke with earnest, your lips pressing a tender kiss to the spot that lacked a heartbeat, though the gesture stood apart on its own.

“I can’t stand it—the way people treat you, the way they talk down to you—if only they knew—if only they could see what I see—” you sobbed, the sound of your cries muffled against his chest; it was firm, his shirt smelling like coolant and ozone—cigarettes mixed with something earthy—you breathed in deeply, overcome with silent relief when Nick placed his metallic hand on the crown of your head.

“I... I appreciate you, doll,” he started, his voice turning toward a soothing cadence, the way he pet your hair in long, slow strokes comforting you more than it should. “But you didn’t have to do that; would have preferred if you didn’t. Jerks like him get their comeuppance, but it shouldn’t be at the price of dirtying your hands.”

You had never been this intimate with him, nor had you ever planned to be—his words were unscripted, and his affection given of his own volition. You curled in tighter, nuzzling your way into the crook of his good arm, wanting to entomb yourself there for all eternity.

“I’m sorry,” you offered apologetically, feeling the pressure of Nick’s own arms around you, returning your hug, making you feel as if you could die happy at this moment, not minding in the least that there was an unconscious, bleeding man lying only a hairbreadth away. “It hurts me, like I know it hurts you.”

Nick was quiet, mulling over the fact it didn’t do you or him any good to disparage his own person when there were others to do it for him. He had never considered the effect it might have on those around him; it came naturally to want to harp on his own shortcomings—or had it come natural to the real Nick? That was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it.

“You’re right, it does. But I shouldn’t let it bother me, not when I have people like you by my side.”

“I love you, Valentine,” you countered, not recognizing the softness of your own voice. You felt a shift beneath you, your head being coaxed to rise by way of a slow tilt of your chin.

Nick stared down at you, gleaming, golden eyes emoting dolefully as he gazed into yours. He held a deep-seated sorrow, not only for you, but for himself, wishing that he was human, if only so he could touch you, hold you, kiss you the way he wanted to.

“That’s not the smartest thing you’ve ever said, but I take it you mean that,” Valentine replied, bending low to brush soft, silicone lips across yours of flesh and blood; they were cool and rough in texture, but not unpleasant. The fact he was kissing you at all was a dream come true.

“With all my heart,” you replied, cupping the Synth's battered cheek in the bowl of your palm, fingers trailing over artificial skin in a light caress.

“So, that’s what this was all about,” he remarked, conjuring up a smile. “You know, I’d give you mine,” he added solemnly, his glum tone indicative of something he was not telling you.

Instead of elaborating, Nick changed the subject, always one to brighten a dark mood. “Next time, just tell me what’s on your mind instead of beating the living daylights out of some poor schmo, all right?”

You managed a smile of your own, delighting in his sarcasm, glad for the fact your confession had taken a lighthearted turn. “I can’t make any promises,” you quipped.

The detective gave a small shake of his head, that lopsided, infectious grin of his spreading up one side of his face. “Taking a page out of my book, are you?”

“I learned from the best,” you breathed, kissing him once more. Though selfish of you, for all you cared, the world could undergo another nuclear war, and you wouldn’t bat a lash, not for as long as you had your funny Valentine.

[seb-reads31]

Hello! Can i request a oneshot of angel dust x touch starved !male reader? More specifically they get together after angel notices that wow this guy is like the first dude in hell that hasn't been trying to seduce me or use my body and is simply interested to get to know me, later when they get to the kissing part reader almost fucks it all up due to him internally panicking extremely hard since he's never thought that someone would ever want to kiss him

Thanks!

Cautions - the dialog is gonna suck, maybe, we'll see lmao, sexual themes I mean come on it's Angel dust 😭, Valentino, THIS IS A MALE READER FIC, SPOILERS FOR SEASON 1, cursing (it's hell), my shit dialog like usual 🤧 (someone give me tips I'm begging you),

Genre - fluff

Type - oneshot (?) I'm gonna be so honest I have no idea how this is gonna come out but I'll do my best 🙏

Comments- omg, dude, angel is my favorite so thank you 🤧🤧 I'm already in love with this ask lol. This is totally inspired by the song from Cinderella I have no shame. I also need to add to my rules lmao. Not because of you, you're doing great, drink some delicious water, eat some good food 😋 (that goes for everyone) but because I don't want anyone asking for specified readers for characters that don't swing that way canonically. It just hit me, and I need to add that lmao

So this is love~

Angel dust always had this facade about him, of his porn star persona. Everyone knows this, and only recently he's gotten out of it. After the war, after Husk breaking him out of his shell, he learned to be less of Angel dust, and more of Anthony.

Obviously, it took more than a few months, but he was feeling like himself, despite having to work for Valentino still. And, you've been helping him, whether you know it or not. Ever since you joined the project to become redeemed before the war, you both had become good friends.

And more recently, boyfriends..

Which shocked everyone to the core. Mostly Angel, to be honest. When he first started talking to you, he had done so with his facade. Using all sorts of innuendos, sneakily asking if you wanted to "get together for a little patty cake" in his room, and general flirting, much like he does did with Husk.

You always got too flustered to respond, but always knew to say no. But, you did try to move past his flirting and ask about him. Not his pornstar persona Angel Dust, no no no, you were asking about Anthony.

And you came to learn that Anthony was the sweetest man ever. While he was still a flirt, he enjoyed baking, romcoms, popsicles (grape flavored specifically), and making pasta! (Don't cancel me I beg of you 🙏)

And you got to know, AND fall in love with these different parts of him. Which includes the parts of him that enjoy non-sexual physical affection. The classic hand holding, hugs, kisses on the cheek or forehead, bunny kisses for sure, which is sending your touch starved ass into overdrive.

He enjoys how flushed your face looks after he gives you a forehead kiss anytime he sees you, or when he randomly grabs your hand to kiss it, looks you dead in the eyes and winks, then goes back to scrolling through his phone as if nothing happened.

However, you have never kissed someone on the lips before. Or had any sort of relationship with this much physical affection that you didn't know you needed, making you crave for more. Specifically, real kisses from Angel.

And you knew Angel would be more than happy to kiss you, but you wanted it to be special, so very special.

But.. Valentino called for Angel. He was having a bad day and needed a "pick me up."

And it just happened to be the exact same day you were going to ask Angel on the date, to ask him to kiss you.

You went looking for your gorgeous spider, finding him on the couch scrolling through his phone like usual. You knew that this was your opportunity to ask him, and off you went!

"Hey Angie, whatcha doing?" You hung on the back of the couch, smiling down at your boyfriend. "Not much, why? You want some attention?~" He teased, slightly patting his lap with one of his upper hands that were behind his head. "Kinda, I was wondering if you wanted to-" RINGGGG, his phone was going off. Angel panicked, seeing that it was his boss. He said a small apology before he jumped off of the couch and running to the corner of the room so you wouldn't hear Valentino's yelling.. as much. He kept nodding, muttering things you couldn't hear, but as soon as the call ended he deflated visibly.

"Shit.. sorry babes, but I gotta go, Val- he uh, needs a little help in the studio!" You knew he was lying, so you wouldn't worry, but you couldn't help it. Not to mention being upset, you had everything planned! "Nah, it's okay Angel, don't worry about it! I'll just.. tell you later."

He nodded then gave you a kiss on the cheek, hurrying out of the hotel to the studio he worked at.

It was the next day when Angel finally got back, hair messy, clothes out of place, and his tired eyes closed as he leaned against the doors, rubbing his face with his upper set of hands, and his lower set wrapped around his waist.

You were coming down from some breakfast, still in your pajamas when you say Angel again. "Angie?" He jumped, having not expected anyone to be up yet as it was Saturday, and Charlie let everyone have a free day from activities these days.

"O-oh! Hey babes, what're you doin up so early? Don't ya normally sleep in on Saturdays?" He was fidgety, nervous. This is how he usually acted after going to the studio, not to mention how much he avoided talking about it. "Yeah, I guess. I just couldn't sleep so I gave up and came down here. Did you want some food? I'm feeling like some bacon and eggs, or maybe biscuits and gravy." He was.. surprised by your nonchalant demeanor. He smiled though, grabbing your hand and kissing it softer than ever before. "Whatever you make sweet cheeks, I'll eat."

Your cheeks tinted pink ever so slightly, but you didn't feel nervous or overly flustered. Instead, you felt confident. So confident that you took the hand Angel wasn't holding and placed it on his round and soft cheek. He was also surprised, but leaned into your hand, whether or not he knew what you were thinking is a mystery. At least, it was until he started leaning down, eyes fluttering shut as he left just enough space between your lips and his to feel them ghost over the others.

You admired him a second longer, then closed your eyes, closing the distance between the two of you.

The kiss was short but sweet, you pulling away first, looking up at Angel with sweet doe eyes. Your first ever kiss was.. amazing, just like when you dreamed of it as a kid.

Angel gave you a dopey smile, then gave you a quick kiss on the nose, pulling away and tugging you towards the kitchen again. "Let's make some food, I'm starving ova' here!"

[ranting-writer]

"Don't you find it hard to look at me? Like, at all?"

Dave looked up from drawing his little comics to look at Dirk across the table from him.

They were in the meteor's library, just getting in some alone time together and drinking shitty coffee while engaging in their respective artistic pursuits. They'd been sitting in silence for a long time, maybe half an hour, before Dirk spoke.

"Sorry, what?"

"Is my strikingly familiar visage not difficult to cast your gaze upon?"

Dave stared harder then inhaled, "Dude, using big boy words doesn't make it easier for my spacey ass to comprehend," he said, setting his pen down. "Though, saying spacey is funny because I am, in fact, not the Space player. You'd think she'd be a lot more all over than I am, but no. I'm the dipshit squirreling out. Can't cross the roads of fucking thought when I need to. God damn abhorrent ass attention span, can't even focus on the topic at hand, which is you asking me if 'your visage is difficult to cast my gaze upon'. Stellar wording."

Dirk didn't reply, just staring while awaiting an answer. Although, he fidgeted quite a bit. His face and voice were under perfect control, truly the model of composure. His body language? Less so. He hadn't had people around to really gauge body language growing up, so his every emotion was on display, mostly through his hands and shoulders.

He was Dave's opposite in that way. Dave's expressions and tone were whatever with Bro. He could pull whatever tone he really wanted, or grin like a giddy bitch all day, but his body language was scrutinized thoroughly. Any flinch or sign of fear was grounds for an immediate visit to the Striders Rooftop Arena.

Dave hummed, resting his chin on his hand. "I mean, no," he said. "Why would I have a hard time looking at you?"

Dirk sighed and shrugged. "I suppose I assumed I look like your Bro. And I assumed such a fact would bring up a lot of negative emotions."

If Dave had learned anything about Dirk so far, it was that the guy was very, very concerned with matters of his own image and identity. Self centered if you will. Not necessarily in a bad way, it was just that his identity and sense of self were incredibly important to him. Typically, he also seemed to assume everyone was as focused on the idea of who they were as he was. It was a noticeable struggle for him to not internalize everything Bro had done as his own actions or responsibility. And it seemed like his literal image was a potential issue as well.

"Well," Dave began. "You do and you don't."

"Elaborate."

Dave shrugged and turned the page to draw something less shitty and cartoony. "You have the same hair, same eye color, same freckles, same shades..." he murmured. "But your eyes, when I can see them, are relaxed and soft. Also, your eyes are more orangey than his. His lean a bit more brown, like honey. Your voice is almost as deep as his, but your tone overall is lighter and more fun. He sounded like someone died almost all the time."

Dirk watched Dave draw, pondering Dave's words as the other Strider spoke. It was simultaneously comforting and distressing to be compared and contrasted with this other him. Everything he knew about Bro was through Dave's jovial explanations and staunch defenses, and Rose's reinterpretations of Dave's information.

Dave continued. "Also, big difference, your nose is straight. Well as straight as our Roman noses can be."

Dirk blinked, absently touching his nose. "Straight?" he asked curiously.

Dave nodded, sketching out a badly crooked nose as he spoke. "Bro broke his nose a lot," he said. "He played baseball growing up and a lot of balls hit him in the face. Two breaks were from that. Last break I remember was from slamming his face into the shower wall when he fell once. Bloody as shit and he raged about it for an hour."

Dirk peered at what Dave was drawing. He guessed Dave was drawing Bro by the nose. It was so broken it sat kind of... Boringly on the face instead of proudly and regally. It was warped to the side, and it honestly looked hard to breathe through. And the eyes Dave started to draw...

Dirk knew his eyes weren't very expressive, so he expected Bro's eyes to be cold and unsympathetic looking. Dead, even. It was something Jake had once complained about (though Dave had once suggested that complaint was bullshit and founded on idealized romance standards). Instead, the eyes Dave drew were widened and intense, almost angry or perhaps manic. The man Dave was drawing looked as ready to throw a punch as he was to skydive without a parachute. He painfully unhinged...

"Your mouth is also pretty different," Dave continued, snapping Dirk out of his staring contest with the paper.

"How so?"

"Honestly, sometimes I forgot he actually had one."

Dirk stared in confusion. How the hell do you forget a person has a mouth?

"As I got older, he kind of... stopped talking," Dave said, sketching a mouth on his drawing. "Also, he his lip piercings were spiked, yours aren't. But if I'm honest, a lot of the difference is your teeth." He drew the mouth as a wide, manic grin. "Yours are pretty straight and clean, I'm guessing your hygiene is top fucking notch given your craving for infinite showering."

Dirk smile a bit and nodded. He did love a good, long, boiling hot shower. He'd actually turned red once from how long he'd been in the shower. It had taken the still young AR blaring an alarm in the apartment to get Dirk out of the shower.

Dave hummed a bit as he drew Bro's teeth. They were crooked and a couple seemed chipped in painful ways. Shading on some suggested cavities. Or discoloration maybe? Dave elaborated without being asked, "Bro was a heavy smoker," he said. "Especially when he felt like shit, which was a fuck load. His teeth got kind of yellowy and he had a few cavities where brushing wasn't doing anything much."

Dirk nodded. He personally didn't understand how anyone could smoke cigarettes. In the bubbles, he'd once gotten a whiff of them and it nearly made him gag. Another time, he watched Dave trying to alchemize some. Apparently it was successful in making at least one because he heard Dave coughing for about ten minutes, and Dave had smelled of nicotine the rest of the day.

Then again... Addiction wasn't something he necessarily could relate to to being with. Roxy was an alcoholic and apparently Rose had, even briefly, ventured down the same path. It wouldn't surprise him if once this was all over if Dave actually picked up his own addiction. After all, genetics played a part, and it seemed he'd also grown up around someone with addictions.

Dave paused his sketching efforts then looked up, almost as if to examine Dirk.

Dirk shifted uncomfortably under the gaze.

Dave eventually looked back down, drawing a scar under Bro's eye. "You also don't have the same scars on you," he said. "I gave him this one when I was six apparently. I throw a knife at him and it cut his cheek and ear pretty bad. He wasn't even mad. He was actually pretty proud."

Dirk rubbed the scar on his throat, watching Dave again. "Damn. Honestly, I might have been too."

"Oh I'd hope so. Like, dude... A first grader accurately slices open your face and ear throwing a knife? Dude, that's hella cool."

"Oh, truly. No doubt about that."

The two smiled at each other and let out little giggles of shared delight over their silly agreement.

Dave started next on Bro's hair. "He always styled his hair too, like yours, but more often than not, it was loose around his face, kinda messy and like he chopped it with kitchen scissors."

The hair he drew was fluffy if, as he stated, choppy. Not bad, "Oh god who let you leave the salon like that" choppy. More intentionally choppy for the most part. Definitely a kitchen scissor job though. The hair framed Bro's face and head like a fluffy halo. "It was strawberry blonde too, like yours."

Dirk blinked and pulled a piece of hair down to examine it. Strawberry blonde? Did that mean more red? He supposed it did, given that Dave and Roxy had more of a gold blonde, and Rose... Well Rose was sort of a non-factor if he didn't know her actual hair color. The girl kept bleaching it platinum. "...Does Rose have...?"

"Rose's natural hair is so strawberry, she's borderline a redhead."

Dirk stared a bit, processing. Huh. Rose really was closer to being like him than Roxy.

"Bro bleached his hair a lot too," Dave said. "Not like... constantly like Rose, but sometimes he'd come back from Dennis's place with white ass hair and weird things done to his side burns or eyebrows."

Dirk screeched himself up in confusion. "Wait, who?"

Dave paused then gasped softly. "Ooooohhhh.... You don't have a Dennis." He looked stunned to realize that Dirk hadn't had his own version of whoever the hell Dennis was. He bounced a bit in his seat. "Okay, so Dennis was kind of like... The only friend Bro had," he elaborated. "He helped Bro on Game Bro, babysat me, and helped Bro with his online businesses. He was kind of a douche, but like... Not really. More like just some knucklehead who didn't like kids that. His girlfriend liked me though. Dennis and his girl were basically our only family."

Dirk nodded a bit, looking at the basically drawing Dave still worked on. "So... No family family?"

Dave paused then sighed heavily. After a moment, he started drawing, presumably, Bro's hands, going oddly quiet. The hands he drew were calloused and sturdy hands, though still the same in shape as Dirk's more dainty looking ones. They had painted nails that looked chewed on and painfully short, and they were covered in thick, ugly scars. Dave spoke after he finished. "Bro's adoptive parents were I think he said Calvinist," he looked up. "I researched that once and basically it says that God picked who has gonna save and bring to Heaven already and Jesus died for them and no one else. Aaaand that even a newborn baby is just fucking riddled with sin."

Dirk felt a knot form in his stomach. Obviously, he hadn't been raised to believe in Christianity or a God or anything like that, but he'd seen some awful things done in planet's history in the name of Christianity and its denominations and their God.

"And keep in mind, Bro was raised in the 1980's by these people," Dave continued. "From what I gather, he wasn't allowed to read anything but the Bible as a kid." Dave took in a slow breath, looking sickened and sad. "...They started to hit him with willow branches as early as four months old."

Dirk felt the knot in his throat tighten as dread washed over him. Bro, this other version of him, was hit with branches as a baby. A literal baby...

He knew what had suffered already in his short 16 years alive was hell. Isolation, ecological devastation, a struggle for food, a struggle to survive... He and Roxy both had pretty massive trump cards if people tried to compare trauma to them. But Dirk had at least seen pictures and some old videos of babies. They were soft and sweet, innocent and unaware of anything nasty in the world. He probably would necessarily like babies himself if he was around any, but he couldn't imagine being so depraved and vile that you believe a baby was sinful and needed to be hit, let alone actually hitting the baby.

Dirk looked at the drawn hands. "So... The scars on his hands... From the branches?"

Dave nodded. "Yeah. His "dad" would lure him to touch something then hit him. Apparently to teach obedience." He sipped his coffee. "Oh, apparently, I met his adoptive parents once when I was like, freshly ecto-birthed. His "dad" pulled that with me and Bro lost it."

Dirk growled a bit. "I should fucking hope so," he said, furious that someone would actively assault what was essentially a newborn. "I don't think I even like kids, but they shouldn't be hit."

Dave nodded, in agreement, seemingly unaware of the sort of doublethink he was engaging in that moment. Not that Dirk was going to call it out. Now wasn't the appropriate moment.

"That's not to mention whatever the fuck Lil Cal was doing to him."

Dirk tilted his head slightly in confusion. Cal? Cal was the shit. That was his fucking buddy, his best bro in the whole damn post-apocalyptic world. What was wrong with that friendly face? Then again, Caliborn had said something about Cal being a powerful juju. Was that it?

"What do you mean," Dirk asked. "Cal's just a sick ass puppet. A sweet ass bro."

Dave's mouth contorted into a sort of disgusted sneer. "Uh-huh..." he mumbled. "Yeah, no. Maybe yours is. Bro's was a malicious evil fuck. I don't know what that thing did to him, but I found him more than once in my childhood talking to it. Arguing with it. He had a few breakdowns at it too. I think its why he stopped talking..."

Hearing this confused Dirk. There was a Lil Cal that was an evil, malicious force that tormented someone? That didn't sound right, but... He couldn't exactly argue with Dave. Dave, while more expressive than Dirk, still tended to try and mask his emotions. For Dave to show off that much disgust and dislike of something, it was pretty significant to Dave then.

Dirk nodded slowly, processing the information. Something had tormented Bro for a long time... Enough to have Dave have at least heard Bro's end of what was happening.

Dave turned back to drawing, seemingly finishing up minor details. "Bro had his problems and he wasn't the best person at times," he said. "But he gave a shit. Too much sometimes. He felt his emotions pretty intensely so he shut them down a lot." He turned the finished drawing towards Dirk. "But he tried his best to be good."

Looking at the completed drawing, Dirk felt his anxiety spike. It was him, staring back. A feral, unstable version of himself. For a moment, he felt all his worst fears might be true. That he might be just as depraved and cruel, if not more so, than Bro. He was scared of being manipulative, cruel, abusive, and downright awful. He knew he was these things, but he didn't want to be, and kept trying to fix it when he became aware of it. Seeing this drawing made him feel like his efforts to grow were for naught.

Then again...

The longer he stared the more the face looked... Different. Like another man entirely.

This man, this version of Dirk... He had been severely abused, his earliest memory likely being hit. He'd spent a good chunk of adult life apparently tormented by a puppet. He had no support beyond one or two people. He struggled with addiction, poor impulse control, and possibly a lot of pain if his scars and injuries were anything to go by. He was abusive and cold, distant and brutish. He was a man who had no real guidance his anything in life, except for perhaps the goal of raising Dave. Whoever this was... This wasn't him.

The realization rocked him, like a boulder had slammed into his back and knocked him over.

Bro wasn't him.

Genetically, they were one and the same, yes. But the longer Dirk gazed into the scribbled eyes of Bro, he felt the connection to the older man slowly loosen. It didn't snap or release, just... Relaxed. He would forever be connected to Bro, forever chained to a past he couldn't ever remember, but he could be better. He could learn from Bro's mistakes and grow. And he could be better to Dave than Bro had been. He needed to be better to Dave. Dave deserved better.

Dirk looked up at Dave, tension in his body easing. He smiled faintly at Dave. "Thank you, Dave," he said. "I appreciate this. Really."

Dave smiled warmly, looking like the sun in Dirk's eyes. "Yeah, man," he replied, giddy. "Anything for you. We're bros. We stick together and help each other out."

Dirk nodded happily, letting Dave hold his hand while Dave returned to babbling away about some dead thing he found interesting.

He couldn't totally say yet that he wasn't Bro. Guilt still ate at his psyche like an annoying moth chewing on clothing. Perhaps, one day, though, he could leave his fears behind.

[mintyeggs]

DUMPSTER ARTHUR LORE

My version of Arthur Lester, or I guess now he's officially going to be known as dumpster Arthur (sorry man), has essentially the same storyline up until the Dreamlands, where the slight canon divergences start, culminating in the deal made with Kayne in Addison, with a very different "catch" as payment for John's return.

This is a bit of a long one, so click the readmore!

CW: cannibalism, autocannibalism, self harm, starvation, all canon typical shit

Starting with the prison pits in the Dreamlands!

Instead of giving in to killing and eating Faust after learning about what he'd done, Arthur held out a little longer by eating bits of himself. He has bite scars on his right arm and his legs, all avoiding the parts of himself that John can feel.

John was not exactly psyched about Arthur having to do this, especially because it takes a lot out of his friend; not just physically. He even tried offering Arthur his arm instead so the poor guy wouldn't feel it, but Arthur adamantly refused, because he'd already bitten John once before (their pinky) and was pretty horrified at how right it felt to have flesh between his teeth.

He doesn't talk to John about that, though, especially while they're still fighting about John's outburst about Faroe. John remains relatively in the dark about Arthur's internal struggle eating human flesh, even his own, since it's kind of hard to tell if he's feeling more fucked up than usual given their situation.

The altercation with Faust ends up pretty much the same way, Arthur broke and attacked him, forcing John to relive his death while he ate. John does start to notice something is off with Arthur psychologically at this point, though he assumes it's because Arthur has just killed and eaten someone for the first time.

They also do not talk about this because Arthur refuses (mostly out of shame and fear that John will think he's a monster haha)

Given how long Arthur was able to hold out before killing Faust, they're in the prison pits for about a month longer than in canon, and upon escape, Arthur doesn't feel the same amount of hope at their future.

Things proceed pretty close to canon at this point, they meet Kayne, they get their shit wrecked by the King, Arthur cuts his own throat, John gives himself up to save Arthur's life, etc etc.

The one big difference here is something the King says to taunt Arthur; he mentions that Arthur has come closer to knowing his form of love than any human ever has, and it has scarred Arthur permanently, even if he doesn't see it yet.

Now, to Addison!

Upon landing in the cabin and calling Kayne, Arthur is presented with a different option; get John back, safe and sound, memories intact. However, when asking about the catch, Kayne says something along the lines of "you'll have your golden boy back, but part of you will forever remain in the pit".

Kayne here just kind of wants to fuck with Arthur and watch him like a TV show, so this is more entertainment than anything power-seeking; Nyarlathotep (who I assume Kayne actually is) delights in cruelty and causing madness. Note, Kayne doesn't actually do anything to Arthur here, he's just kind of exacerbating Arthur's self doubt about his own humanity and sanity. No worse enemy than one's own mind, after all.

Kayne also does inform Arthur that John is in the Dark World! This obviously sways Arthur's decision quite a bit, and he immediately agrees to Kayne's terms, even assuming part of himself would be sent back to the prison pits, John not being alone in the Dark World is worth it to him.

Some of the main consequences to this decision!!

Arthur isn't really able to come to terms with John intrinsically being a part of the King in Yellow, and neither is John!

Arthur still very much views John as something that never was and can never be the King in Yellow, so he holds him to those standards, making some of their fights while in Addison have a different flavor to them.

In the same vein, John isn't able to have that "aha" moment of accepting his past as part of him, instead continuing to fight tooth and nail against the things he thinks are something the King would do.

As such, when Arthur snaps again and attacks Larson, and starts his descent towards bedrock in the mines under Addison, John is much harsher towards him, starting to see Arthur as the monster the King in Yellow is.

This culminates in Arthur killing Uncle, where another big problem makes itself apparent; the smell of blood makes Arthur painfully hungry, and he realizes this is what Kayne meant when talking about the part of him left in the pits.

Arthur reverts to his old habit of satiating his hunger here, and John sees him bite himself again, this time as a form of self-harm and what Arthur thinks is due punishment for becoming a monster, and they have their heart to heart about reaching bedrock.

John definitely knows something is up at this point, and is quick to reassure Arthur that they'll kill Larson, but they need to save the people of Addison first, if only to prove to Arthur that he's not the monster that either of them thought he was. John also comes to the realization that he might've been the cause for all of this; he remembers how the King said that knowing his love had scarred Arthur permanently.

So, after freeing Addison, John's main focus becomes separating them again, but this time it's for Arthur's own sanity. They do learn about the order of the fallen star, which John thinks is a better lead for separating them than searching for Anna Stanzyck.

That leaves us where most of my drawings of Dumpster Arthur are set timeline wise! They're in New York, grappling with Arthur's growing hunger and self-harm habits and finding a way to separate them, something Arthur is getting less and less willing to do, given as John is pretty much the only thing holding him together now.

I'm working on a comic about them finding a vessel for John, the construct body built by a fringe cult worshiping Hastur. This essentially is just an anchor for John, while he's still bound to Arthur, that body does give him autonomy and allows him to project without causing Arthur any stress (beyond emotional).

All of this is kind of subject to change, but a couple people in the tags of some of my art pointed out how interesting it is to focus on Arthur becoming more of a monster, something I definitely am going to explore a bit :^)

As a reward for finishing reading my very long brain vomit dump, have some fun(ish) Dumpster Arthur facts!

he wears a trench coat way too big for him because he thinks it makes him look bigger and more intimidating. john does not have the heart to tell him it just makes him look like a really sad wet cat

john takes on a bit more of a caretaker role for arthur when they reach new york! part of learning his own humanity comes with caring for someone else the way Lily cared for them in the hospital.

arthur also does have some nerve damage at this point in his right arm, so he does kind of twitch and shiver like a chihuahua when it gets particularly bad

john and arthur create a version of asl meant for one-handed signing, though it's rather hodge-podge to anyone who signs traditional asl. this allows john to communicate without arthur translating (noel has a bit of trouble reading the signs at first but learns quick) and also allows arthur to communicate silently with john.

[trans-axolotl]

I think the reason psychosis is always viewed as a crisis by non-schizo effected people is cause neurotypical people are always told and believe that an episode of psychosis is the most terrifying thing that could happen. Like at least from my experience, descriptions, talks, and depictions of psychosis is AS something that's deathly scary to not know (and assumably never again know) what's real and what isn't, some depictions showing any episodes as worse than death. Like obviously that's not true but it stays with people; the telling of "it's the worst thing that could ever happen everytime" and definitely made the first few times I dealt with psychosis and hallucinations a lot worse and a lot scarier

yeah! so much of the messaging around psychosis and schizophrenia is so fucking dangerous because of the way it continually reinforces these ideas that psychosis is always terrifying, life-ending, and the worst case scenario. like that can have materially dangerous impacts on the lives of people living with psychosis/altered states. i think that kind of stigmatizing messaging about psychosis really demobilizes people in our communities and convinces people that they don't have the capability to support their loved ones with psychosis, and instead creates this idea that "professionals" are the only ones who could ever actually support someone through psychosis. and that leads to so much more forced institutionalization, pathologization, violence towards people experiencing psychosis, and just really a lack of the kind of proactive community support that could actually help prevent some kinds of crisis and distress.

i think it also makes it really hard for us, when we start experiencing psychosis/altered states for the first time, because there's really no framework for us to understand and cope with our experiences beyond just "this is the worst thing ever and there's no options for me." i think it creates a lot of forced shame and secrecy, as well as pushing a lot of us into more intense crisis because we have nowhere to go to get support. and like, when you google this half the shit that comes up tells you to call 911 immediately, and when you're someone who can't do that because it's dangerous for you, you're just left with no fucking options or getting pushed into treatment options that don't respect your autonomy.

i wish there was a lot more recognition that psychosis/altered states are something that can happen to anyone, and actually do happen to a lot more people to varying degrees and in different contexts. that psychosis is something that it is possible to live fulfilling and meaningful lives with. that you don't need to be an expert to support someone living with psychosis/altered states. and that there is so many ways of living with psychosis, and that antipsychotics and therapy are not the only options, and should never be a forced option. i also have so many thoughts about how desperately we need informed consent for antipsychotic medications and how fucking mad i am about the amount of information that is withheld from psychotic people about the side effects of our meds, the withdrawal experience, dosages, other options, etc etc etc.

anyway i just really recommend that everyone, whether you're someone who experiences psychosis/altered states or not, learns more about psychosis and do the work to challenge all these internalized myths we learn from society and the psych system. i highly recommend checking out the hearing voices network, and also really recommend Project LETS anticarceral altered states training to learn more ways to help support yourself and your loved ones.

thanks for this ask, i really agree with what you're saying!

[wannaeatramyeon]

Ryuhei Kuroda x Reader: Japanese 101

G/N. Ryuhei teaches you some japanese.

You cup your mouth with both hands, take a deep breath and shout, "Kutabare!" (Fuck you!)

A few coworkers turn to you in shock, including the one whose attention you were aiming for.

Ryuhei spins around, eyes lighting up and copies your motion. "Shinee!" (Die!)

Internally flipping through your tiny repertoire of Japanese, it takes you a moment before understanding dawns and you cackle.

It leaves you both with a smile for the rest of the day.

.

.

You repeat the word after him, testing it out for the first time, "Chinchin." (Dick) and then put your own spin on it:

"I hate Eugene, he's a chinchin."

It doesn't really work but it makes Ryuhei laugh anyway.

.

.

Pointing to a stray cat, you exclaim, "Kawaii!" (Cute!)

Ryuhei huffs at your childishness. You're pretty cute too.

.

.

"Hey," you whisper to the blonde seated next to you, "teach me something new."

Face hidden behind his mask, he tilts his head at you as if to say not now.

"Please, before my brain falls asleep."

Ryuhei turns back to Eugene droning on. Something about quarterly growth and being on target, then leans close and mutters, "Kuso kurae."

You jot it down phonetically at the top of your notepad, "Meaning?"

"Eat shit."

You muffle your giggles just in time.

.

.

"Kuso kurae!" you repeat at Ryuhei the next day.

Grinning hard, he gives you a nod and fist pump, "Ganbatte!" (Do your best!)

.

.

In the huskiest, most sensual voice you can muster up, you breathe into his ear, "Iku~" (I'm coming~)

Shit.

Ryuhei's head swims.

Maybe he shouldn't have taught you that one.

.

.

Smiling wide, and holding up the phone to his face, "Baka!" (Idiot!)

Steadying your hand with his, Ryuhei takes a small step back to focus on what you're showing him. Ah, it's a candid photo of him taken this morning, right after you called his name and thrusted the lens in his face.

He looks very handsome, even if he says so himself.

The expression that you captured though, he's not sure what to make of it. Is that what his face is like when he looks at you? He looks vulnerable, exposed. More than he has been in a long time.

"Baka!" you repeat again, like a kid learning a new word - and he supposes, that it is new and novel for you.

"Baka," he agrees, because he does feel like one where you're concerned.

.

.

"Daisuki da." Ryuhei whispers into your ear. Quiet, but not quiet enough as Kenta, sitting on his other side, startles at his words.

You scribble the sounds on your notepad, along with another message 'What does that mean?' then give him a gentle prod with your pen.

Ryuhei's eyes flicker to the paper but he doesn't respond.

"What does it mean?" You say aloud this time, risking drawing the ire of Eugene. Ryuhei gives you a shrug and you click your tongue.

"Fine, I'll just look it up later myself," you hiss, petulant and pouting. "Bakayaro," (Bastard) you add for good measure.

He doesn't react, on the surface. Instead, below the boardroom table, he aims his hand towards you then it springs forward, quick as a dart, peevish fingers pinching at your waist and you squeal.

The entire room turns towards you.

"Sorry," you mutter, face burning red.

.

.

You look it up later that night and feel a different warmth on your face. Growing to the tips of your ears, all the way down to your toes.

Daisuki da.

(I really like you.)

[queer-overwatch]

Omg I love the mentor Ana you wrote could you do a mentor moira with a student intern that works hard but struggles in there studys

Moira as with student!intern reader!

Ofc! Moria the meanest girlie ever, I love her <3 sorry this is a little short </3 -Frisk

☯•-•-•-•⟮ ☯ ⟯•-•-•-• ☯

"Uuugh!"

Slamming your head down on your desk, you groan as you try to read a paragraph about some DNA vs RNA for the millionth time.

No matter how many times you tried to memorize everything you needed to know regarding stupid, stupid genetics you'd forget it as soon as you actually had to apply your knowledge for anything. You had to at least get down a decent chunk of what Moria told you study, otherwise you'd disappoint her and that would absolutely ruin you.

Straightening back up, you stubbornly start reading again, ignoring everything and anything that wasn't directly in front of you as you refuse to even blink for a good minute. Unfortunately, that also meant you couldn't hear Moria calling for you. And by the time you finally noticed her stomping her way over to your work desk, it was too late.

"Care to explain why you've been ignoring me for the last 3 minutes, (y/n)?" Crossing her arms, she stares down at you impatiently. Shit, this is exactly what you wanted to avoid!

"I'm sorry! I really didn't mean to, I just- I was distracted." You close the book in front of you after making sure you'd put a bookmark on the page you were on, spinning your chair to look at her without straining your neck. You could see in the disappointment in her eyes, and god if that didn't hurt worse than chopping your own hand off.

You begged and worked and tried so hard to get the opportunity to work alongside and learn from her, and you were going to blow it all just because you couldn't wrap your head around something she could recite and explain in her sleep!

Too wrapped up in your own head, you don't notice her grabbing the book from your desk and flipping to the page you were just reading and skimming through a few paragraphs.

She scoffs, tossing it back onto your desk and snapping you out of your thoughts. "That's what you're stuck on, really? Pathetic, a five year old could understand what you fail to comprehend."

Holding your breath, you look down to the ground and nod along silently, a million different thoughts running through your head, the majority of which were just calling you stupid.

Looking down at you, she sighs as she rests her hands on her hips and pulls a spare chair over to your desk, sitting down with her legs crossed. "I suppose since you're supposed to be my intern after your studies, I should ensure you understand these types of things so you don't ruin my work. Go on then, tell me what you're struggling with."

Shocked, you snap your head up to look at her. "What-?"

She stares at you as if you're the dumbest person she'd ever talked to, gesturing to the book on your desk. "I said tell me what your feeble mind fails to process, or would you prefer to be left in your own stupidity, that'd certainly be easier for me."

"No-! No, um, thank you!"

"Shut up and read."

"Yes ma'am!"

[marchwardenofmordor]

Ngl. I think Melkor’s a twat but in some regards I can deeply empathise.

One being that I absolutely DESPISE conformity. As a kid one of the first things my nursery school teachers complained to my father about was “He will not conform” (to which my dad was an absolute boss and said “he’s 4. I don’t want him to conform.”)

There is nothing I hate more than when an organisation (*cough*christianity*cough*) puts out a fucking order and people just follow it blindly, or have to keep up with the latest trends, or looks at what everyone else is doing/wearing/liking/siding with/thinking before deciding to just follow along with no creativity or input of their own whatsoever; like I’m not even being funny, it actually fills me with rage and makes me want to put people in a jar and shake it until they develop a sense of free will / the ability to cultivate their own ideas / learn how to think for themselves.

When I go out and see groups of people with the same haircut, wearing the SAME OUTFIT, and everyone looks THE SAME— if I had a fëa it would literally be writhing around and shrieking inside of me.

I can also empathise with his frustration at not being granted creative freedom - hence why I am self employed. I HATE being told what to do or how to think and (autistic) I have an extremely strong sense of autonomy. Give me a brief and I’ll create you something beautiful, but by the fucking gods do NOT try to tell me how to work my own craft. Tight restraints / trying to force me to create things I do not want to create are a sure fire way to piss me off. I refuse to be contained.

And to see someone like Mairon with BUCKETS of talent being tied down and restricted by an authority figure would 100% make me go “hey baby come here, it’s free real estate; lets go nuts and create wacky shit and directly oppose what society tries to force upon us”. I love rebels and punks, and one of my favourite aspects of a person is creativity combined with a good strong rebellious streak. If you’re a bit of a wild child chances are I’ll absolutely adore you. And if it’s hiding inside of you under layers of anxiety, I will make it my personal mission to empower you.

Grip life by the wheel and fuck what everyone else thinks; put your foot to the floor and leave them in the dust. You wanna mod your bod? Wanna wear crazy outfits and dress like a fairy? Wanna be a genderless amorphous gay presence that haunts the library? Wanna drink brandy, smoke cigars and not wear any knickers? Fucking- *smacking fists on the table* - GO FOR IT. 👹👹👹👹👹

But then on the other hand. I like order and routine. All of my shit is organised and everything has its place and I tend to get very upset if someone comes along and moves it. I use it as an anchor for my chaos. I hyperfixate, and woe betide anyone who tries to pull me away from a task I haven’t finished (not my proudest moment, but as a VERY young child if I was focused on a task, I’d sit there and piss myself and finish my task before listening to the needs of my body. Nowadays I hold it or put off eating / sleeping until the task is finished. Like let’s be for real: if my own bodily functions can’t pull me away from a task, another person hasn’t got a hope in hell.). When I am doing something, I am doing something.

Also envy of other people’s creativity is totally natural. It’s natural for creatives to be jealous of one another.

What makes me different from Melkor is that I wouldn’t let that envy lead me into destroying someone else’s work. Because I know the hard graft that goes into it. When protesters vandalise art it provokes the same level of rage in me as watching the Church rope more people into their ideologies.

And Melkor destroying the creative works of the other Valar is the main thing that made me go “wow, what a dick”. I was all for him and was internally just like “fuck yeah get it king, REFUSE CONTAINMENT!!” up until that point.

I completely understand frustrated curiosity.

[luis-serra-kennedy]

Rockstar/Actor!Luis AU Masterlist

This is a self indulgent AU where Luis is a cringe fail loser starving artist musician who knows Leon because he's the receptionist at a recording studio. Leon had a hate crush on Luis for years, but after one conversation he learns there's a little more depth to Luis than he thought.

And eventually Luis does get his big break, with a hugely successful album that nets him a Grammy.

Main AU

oh my god, it's my life, what am I doing kicking at the foundation?

After ten years in America trying to break through into the music industry with absolutely 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 to show for it, Luis is close to finally swallowing his pride and admitting to himself that he's a failiure and all his music is shit. Admitting to himself he's wasted his entire adult life chasing this unattainable dream and now has to start from scratch. Going home to admit to his grandfather that he should have listened to his warnings about not pursuing music as a career, and gone to university instead of joining a band. He gets as far as setting aside money for the plane ticket, before someone changes his mind.

Success Hasn't Spoiled Me Yet

Luis Serra is not an asshole. He is gone, but he's coming back. And he fed Leon's cat.

wakin' up blind with the house on fire

❝Well, I agree the timing isn't really ideal, but… That doesn't mean we can't want it anyway,” Luis cautiously places a hand on top of Leon's. “You do want it, right? That's why you're so scared, my career is just taking off, you know I have lots of baggage and worry about money, babies need a lot of money, having one would impact my career. So you think I'll be mad that you want to lock me down by bringing a baby into it. But it's okay, there wasn't anything for you to be scared of. I'm not upset. Not at all. I want it too. If you can handle another few months on your own, then we can do this. Easy.❞ OR Luis has to learn to balance being a touring rockstar and expectant father.

Spin-off AU

This one is just an AU of an AU. It splits off from the third chapter of the main AU's first fic. Most of the same things happen, just on a slightly different timeline and in slightly different ways. The biggest difference is that Luis's grandfather does not get sick and die in the spin-off AU. But Luis still has his album blow up, Leon still gets pregnant with twins accidentally, Luis still goes on tour, etc.

Take Me Away With You

Having a bit of an internal crisis over his music career and feeling like a sellout, Luis asks to be taken away from the party for a motorcycle ride with Leon. He gets a lot more out of it than he bargained for. OR Luis gets hard on the back of Leon's motorcycle and Leon gets 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘴. OR An alternate, smuttier version of the third chapter of my fic oh my god, it's my life, what am I doing kicking at the foundation?

Homewrecker Luis AU

While Luis is still a musician/actor and Leon is still a receptionist at the studio Luis records at, this one is overall very different to the others. Leon is in a toxic abusive dumpster fire of a relationship with Krauser. He ends up giving into Luis's flirtations and cheating on Krauser with him. Having lacked any relationship experience and been more generally naive when he first moved to LA, Leon fully believed that his relationship with Krauser was normal and all men would treat him like that, it was the best he could possibly get. But the way Luis treats him during their affair shows him there may be greener grasses after all…

Just A Little Sexual Tension (under the guise of love)

Are you really a homewrecker if the “home” you're wrecking is more of a toxic dumpster fire? OR Leon doesn't realize he's in a toxic relationship and his boyfriend is bad in bed until he gets a taste of Luis.

playlists

the mixtape Leon listens to when he's crying about Luis

songs about Leon

[omghallucinations]

aspects and chart patterns for ateez

number one reason why i decided to write this: mingi has a grand cross.

bro this chart goes crazy. a grand cross is a SHIT TON of energy. act right now, think NEVER (or later, obsessively, full of regrets). for mingi the 4 players are uranus "manic pixie dream girl" (14 aquarius), mars "she's cute but a psycho" (15 scorpio), sun "ME! by taylor swift" (16 leo) and saturn "i work so i can go home" (16 taurus). they're all in fixed signs so that can be a rough ride! these guys ain't gonna move. it's easy to not make any progress because he feels really stuck here. the fire is blazing away, but the walls are staying put. it creates a fixed idea of how things are, a relentless energy that can eat itself. terrified of losing security. strength becomes an identity. he's both 100% always sure he is right about everything and staggeringly aware of the multiplicity of life and that no one knows what truth is, since a grand cross has one of each element so the energy is split.

it's like

his sun, in its rulership in leo, so very strong: have you SEEN ME LATELY, i want to LOVE you and come let me SHINE MY RAYS UPON YOU and you can be like wow you're so pretty!! and i'll be like yeah i am!! you're so pretty too!! i love expressing myself through dance and music!! i am 100% embracing my identity i can't be anyone other than me!! (this depends on his rising) versus uranus in aquarius, also rulership if you do modern rulers which i don't usually: uhHHHHH girl. being different is really. hard. also i don't want to join the party and i don't believe in that and also i want to leave and this is giving me anxiety. have you considered that the self is a construct and constantly changing???

meanwhile, on the other side of his chart:

mars strong in its rulership in scorpio if you do traditional rulers, which i do: i'm so sexy and intense and everyone looks at me all the time. i want to act boldly and with power and sexuality and loyalty and i'm not afraid of anyone have you considered that! if you cross me you'll fucking regret it. i'm full of deep powerful desires and i want to act to achieve them!! versus saturn in taurus: sit the hell down and be responsible, you asshole. stop doing that. stop thinking that. stop desiring that. it's not helpful. stop wanting that it's not practical. i'm the ensemble cast in stick to the status quo!! no no no! stick to the stuff you know!!

which produces these big bursts of passionate action and not a lot of follow through. there's also sub arguments, which are fun too.

sun square saturn: father saturn is always haranguing the sun/self/ego that he has to PRODUCE that he has to SUCCEED or what is the POINT, and sometimes the sun is like fuck it... i give up ballet is YOUR dream dad

father saturn is also haranguing gay cousin uranus which has the fun effect of making him both insanely stubborn/rigid and insanely chaotic at the same time

uranus is like the devil on the shoulder of mars encouraging it to do more, be more extreme, move on, hit da BRICKS

mars passes a lot of that message on to the sun, being like you gotta be move and make a decision right now and who gives a shit what the consequences are! let's jump off this building!!

thank god mingi has an "easy opposition" planet that offshoots his saturn-mars opposition! depending on his birth time his moon likely sextiles saturn and trines mars to some degree. the way out of this all or nothing mentality is through his cancer moon (so many of ateez have cancer moons). his moon is basically like... girl go home. learn to garden or knit or something. get out of the club girl what are u doing

san's mars opposes his jupiter exactly. no like. exactly exactly. 0.00 orb which i almost have never seen in my life. so she's a strong and intense opposition! the two sides of the seesaw:

his mars in scorpio: i'll die for you, i'll kill for you, i have deeply internalized so much red hot rage that i am afraid of being angry but also unable to not be angry. haha i'm fine, he said, his eyes shooting fire. let's go deep and dark right now, i can handle any weight and get though anything also if you betray me i will never forget so write that down, i love two things powerful soul-penetrating intimacy and holding on to my grudges. do you remember that one time you did that one thing because i do versus... taurus jupiter: you know what i love? nature. humanity. my ideals. bro you're really harshing my mellow so bad. i want to focus on acquiring my cool items and comfort. have you tried just like... letting go? transform yourself into a more benevolent being! i'm managing my money, other people's money, whatever, my investments go crazy and i have great intimate partnerships and that's enjoy to bring me fulfillment and joy :)

thankfully his leo venus is there! leo venus trines his scorpio mars and sextiles his jupiter, softening each one with that optimistic romance, the creativity, the passion. venus is not always acting perfectly--she sure can be an egomaniac--but it can certainly smooth out the rough edges of mars and connects the two extremes. it's also in the 12th, the pisces-y house, so it's sort of quieter, more introverted, very compassionate and sympathetic to others.

hongjoong also has an almost exact opposition (0.07, so close!) with a softening planet to the side.

jupiter in pisces: have you ever thought about humanity? we have a responsibility to help the less fortunate! do you think ghosts are real? do you want to join a cult? also i'm so sad :( about people being sad :(. also i really really want to spend all my money! right now!! it's fine i'll make more money whatever, what is important is look at my beautiful gorgeous items (2nd house). versus... mars in virgo: gotta WORK. gotta make that mONEY make PURSE. and the way you do that is by killing yourself working :). i can look at every situation logically and critically and i will cross every t and dot every i in the entire world by thursday at the latest. god i love solving weird problems so much. yes i will be reachable by phone :) or text :) or slack :) please feel free to zoom :) no i will not be on vacation ever in my life :)

thankfully he can bridge that gap with his venus in scorpio in the 9th house (think art/values/beauty/romance that is unafraid of darkness and eager to get to the heart of shit often about philosophy/religion/art/travel). his sun and mc also contribute to that--so his ego/identity and his career. they trine/sextile the two planets themselves, just not exactly.

on the other side of that opposition, we have... a t-square :(. his gemini moon in the 5th house squares both jupiter and mars. a t-square is often like--bro you've repressed some shit but here's some red hot raw potential if u work through it. it can help and hurt, like all aspects. the moon makes sure the chart is like HEY. LOOK AT MARS AND JUPITER. THERE IS A BIG DIFFERENCE BETWEEN MARS AND JUPITER RIGHT. it anchors the difference. it can mean his emotions go zoom zoom from one side to the other--moon/jupiter of benevolence, so many feelings, philosophy, the meaning of life on one side, and then on the other side i have NEVER had a FEELING in my LIFE how DARE you i gotta WORK and THINK ABOUT STUFF what do you mean "don't intellectualize" and "feel my feelings" LMAO sounds fake.

seonghwa interestingly enough has no oppositions at all between planets--he's not going to seesaw within himself. he's gonna make a choice and not understand why other people are making such a big deal out of it. i bet he doesn't even have an internal monologue, lucky bitch. goddamnit.

he does have some interesting conjunctions--he has an exact conjunction with saturn and mars in aries in the 10th house. saturn gives mars a capricorn-ish, earth sign flavor. the way he asserts himself is going to be logical, practical, he does not like change, there's a lot of anxiety with action. this is amplified by them being in the 10th house. saturn gets a boost here because the 10th house is the capricorn house--it likes it here. they are more loosely conjunct his retrograde mercury (some trouble communicating) and his sun. they all get that same practical capricorn flavor.

mars in aries: you cannot kill me in any way that matters :) capricorn in aries: hm. technically. they can. what if, for example, your local coffee shop rearranges the furniture mars in aries: 1 fear

his cancer rising (22 cancer) exactly squares mars and saturn (22 aries) and more loosely mercury and his sun. it's like his identity/his life purpose/life direction as a nurturing, healing person who also struggles with vulnerability and being a bit judgmental sometimes shut up about it runs up against his 10th house work self, for better or worse. fire (aries) and water (cancer) don't get along, their goals are different.

he has other interesting things in his chart but i'm really trying to just to aspects right now lmao this is so long!!

jongho has an exact opposition between jupiter and pluto, so that's a fun bounce between

jupiter in gemini: man i love to be social, free, not taking shit serious, talking to people about whatever, and pluto in sagittarius: get AWAY from me i am LEAVING goodBYYYYYE

if you are extremely generous with your orbs, he could have uranus to quote unquote soften that--sort of like, idek i do my shit my way and it's chill. it's a big orb though so i don't really count it hardcore.

he also loosely has his virgo mars anchoring the opposition into a t-square--it creates sort of a versus situation. like hongjoong, he has a virgo mars (the gotta WORK (but not in a showy capricorn way, i'm genuinely doing the work stop showing off)) struggling to balance the opposing impulses of pluto and jupiter.

gotta wORK... on what? gotta work with people in a social way? or gotta work by getting the hell out of here independently? he can vacillate between the two extremes, avoid one of the points until his saturn return clomps up to say heyyyy girlllllll or some mixture of the two.

wooyoung has one opposition between planets!

mercury in scorpio (15) in the second house: i wanna get into the deep weeds with people, i want to skip the small talk and trauma dump on each other, i wanna say the TRUTH i don't CARE if it's "nice" also i'm fairly practical and critical, in contrast to how i am all or nothing motherfucker anyway i need to passionately argue my ideas and also i need to ice you out, i'm complex okay!! gOD you just don't UNDERSTAND the exhilarating highs and perilous lows of LIFE like I DOOO versus saturn in taurus (15) in the eighth house: oh shit i gotta keep myself in check and be normal so i can handle other people's problems and not lose all my money and not transform too much it will make people uncomfortable fuck i'm afraid of death i need to have a stable foundation jesus christ stop being so emotional and focus on what is practical!! god!!!!

there is no easy way out of that one i'm afraid.

instead, there's a t-square!!! the action point is his uranus in aquarius in the fifth house so there's issues with feeling like being his own unique person is in itself disruptive. he fears rejection--probably went through that a lot as a child (5th house). on the bright side, having to deal with the squares will help him gain resolution in this seesaw. the vibes are:

i have to restrict myself and be a normal bitch gotta WORK, gotta make that MONEY make PURSE

no wait. i have to be my weird ass self and express that creatively! my uniqueness is my charming point! it is so fun and awesome to be a little weirdo!

u know what actually let's connect deeply i wanna talk about emotional TRUTHS i wanna bear my SOUL i'm so RIGHT about everything and if i talk at you enough you will learn the truth!!

oops changed my mind goodbye everyone, i have reinvented myself again and i need to run away forever i'm a manic pixie dream girl and i've ghosted you. :)

yeosang has a grand trine! with a generous orb, so it's less strong than it could be. a rare aspect that is all about ease. again, like all aspects and chart patterns, there are pros and cons. a grand trine is a big ole triangle with 3 planets or points in the same element and they all get along great. yeosang's ascendant in aries is trine pluto in sagittarius is trine venus in leo. his life purpose/direction, his understanding of power death and rebirth and his desire for love, what he likes, his values, etc are always chatting away in endless circles and it's very cohesive but it can really lack direction.

pluto: i don't know where do u wanna go ascendant: idk were do u wanna go venus: idk where do u wanna go

like that. there's a lot of potential here: the newness and excitement and babyness of an aries rising, the intensity and passion of pluto, the love and harmony and creativity of venus, but it lacks direction in a major way.

like san and hongjoong, yeosang also has a mars and jupiter opposition. san and hongjoong's are exact, though (so like jupiter at 18 pisces is exactly opposite mars at 18 virgo), so they are stronger. yeosang's is more chill but still present.

jupiter in aries in the 1st house: i love being alive! i feel fresh and brand new. optimism is so easy for me! i act quickly and i want what i want but also if you want something i'll get it for you! i have strong values and i'm super honest and i'm not afraid of that in any way :). everything will work out!! mars in libra in the 7th house: haha... a decision? never heard of her hahah.... it's fine whatever u want is cool.... .. . i don't really wanna get it myself so uh. well if u think it's okay???? do you think it's okay?????? does everyone else think it's okay???? i'm very stressed and mars is in detriment here so i am uncomfortable but it's okay i'll be fine whatever u want is okay with me so long as the group is happy right???

it's also interesting because as an aries rising, his chart ruler is mars in libra--it's gonna flavor his whole personality strongly. normally in that opposition jupiter would overrule mars in its detriment, but because mars is the chart ruler that side of his personality gets emphasized more.

yunho has a locomotive chart pattern--that's like when 3/4 parts of the wheel have planets in them. hongjoong also has this. these people tend to be more driven towards goals, and there's one planet that acts as the engine--for hongjoong it's his virgo mars, which makes sense, and yunho's is his gemini moon in the eighth house. his engine is social-emotional in a light gemini sort of way not in an intense water moon sort of way. it's also square his pisces mercury in the 4th house (the cancer house, home/roots/foundation). to me that's like

gemini moon in the 8th: emotions are interesting to me in an abstract way but they don't really affect me that much, i'm always able to see the logical side of things. i'm really good at talking people through their feelings and i love to talk about mine too--but i do not want to actually feel them, ew gross that does not make me feel safe and feeling safe is extremely important to me! anyway what feeling i don't know what you're talking about my mood is totally different now i don't remember her? yeah i was upset but that was thirty seconds ago catch up! pisces mercury in the 4th: that person over there is sad i can feel it :( be nice to them :( i am gonna be really careful so i don't offend them :( anyway there is no one right answer i could be wrong idk i'm used to everything changing all the time so it's not a big deal do u think that person needs a hug :( gemini moon, trying to not feel anything: what are u doing here

this seems like a very helpful and productive square that keeps pisces and gemini--both mutable signs--from going too far in either direction. the house placements feel more unstable though.

uranus is also trine the moon so that weighs the scale more on the detachment side. uranus in aquarius in the 3rd (gemini house) is air on air on air, but also very stubborn and obsessed with being free. goodBYYYYEYYEE in a planet.

his sun is also conjunct jupiter in aries which makes his personality larger-than-life or like, expanded in some way. known. success comes easier. it's also in the fifth house of creativity and self expression which is a fun, carefree vibe, youthful leo energy. can get an ego, but he's friendly!

venus at home in taurus in the 6th conjunct saturn in taurus in the 6th--that's like saturn squeezing the life out of venus a little bit. holding it down.

venus in taurus: everyone likes me i'm cute and lovable and things come so easy to me! i love items and feeling safe and at home! man this is a soft hoodie i have achieved fulfillment. i know the perfect thing to smooth over this awkward social situation because things gotta stay stable it's insanely important to me but u know it's cool, i'm so friendly and personable :) saturn in taurus: have u ever considered that everyone betrays u venus in taurus: everyone.... could betray me. i... could betray me...... ... . better not let anyone in emotionally!!! i don't trust that shit! but if you do stay we're for life, so. ride or die.

anyway i'm interested in doing more astrology for ateez, these bitches go crazy. almost all of them have very active uranus and they have either a gemini moon (yunho, san, hongjoong) or a cancer moon (wooyoung, seonghwa, mingi, yeosang) or they are jongho, who has either an aries or a pisces moon depending on when he was born. what the hell bro. wild.

[pinkbeanii]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚𝓰𝓮𝓽𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓼𝓾𝓹𝓹𝓸𝓻𝓽 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

This is so fucking niche, but today was my first day using my cane in public! So here's some thoughts of Jongseob being the most supportive bf and an absolute mobility aid advocate.

Warnings: talk of chronic pain, mentioned ableism, run on sentences (sorry)

It was not a surprise to him when you were recommended a cane.

After a long time of helping you with flare ups and trying to understand your mental and physical pains, Jongseob was well versed in your world of disability.

So he was so undeniably in support of a mobility aid. Though he knew it was going to be an adjustment for the both of you, Seobie was more than prepared.

I imagine he'd research about all types of mobility aids, and since it would be a cane that you'd be using he focused on that.

Seobie is passionate about anything he cares about, and that mindset extends to you and your well-being & health.

He'd have already done his research on your condition or symptoms, and you have already coached him through a lot of situations so he knows his shit!

But mobility aids are a different beast, so Jongseob dived head first into learning about canes: how to use them, care and maintenance, different types of handles & --, and he even read stories & messages from cane users on the internet.

Of course, it wasn't easy for you to admit to yourself that a cane would be helpful, internalized ableism is a bitch that way. But Seobie would be the best bf, making sure you knew he's proud of you for taking care of yourself and reassuring you that a cane wasn't going to change your relationship & how he saw you.

Jongseob never coddled you, never treated you with anything but respect. Your disability & pain were part of you that he accepted fully, and he knew his place was not as a caretaker but a partner for you. It was never just him taking care of you, it was a balance of leaning on each other as needed.

After browsing options together (Jongseob had opinions on styles and even ideas on how you could decorate it to feel more like you) it came time to learn how to use it

I personally practiced at home before using it outside, so I can picture you both in the living room learning together about what the most comfortable way to walk and stand with your new mobility aid was. Seobie would be like a personal cheerleader, making sure you knew how good you were doing and having you take breaks as you went.

Y'all would also have a little date where you work on decorating the cane, adding stickers or rhinestones, making a beaded wristband and adding charms. He would be so attentive to how you felt about it, understanding if you don't want it to stand out. Jongseob just wants to make it feel like you.

The first time you use it out in the world Jongseob is doing his damn hardest to make it an easy adjustment for you. He holds all your stuff, opens doors and avoids any obstacles, and most importantly he's holding your free hand and reminding you he's right there by your side.

While you try and avoid any weird looks from judgemental assholes, it's hard to ignore it sometimes. Seobie is great at distracting you and often glares right back at anyone who stares for too long. Looking was fine, you both understood that it's not the most common thing, but unrestrained gawking was unacceptable in his book.

More boyfriend points are scored when he reminds you that you're allowed to use the disabled toilets and accessible seating and amenities. He's the biggest advocate for not only you, but anyone else he sees dealing with casual ableism.

Something you learn from being around any disabled person (mental, developmental or physical disabilities) is that people are often unintentionally bigoted in how they treat us. Of course it's more obvious when it's intentional, but casual words or actions that aren't meant to harm are harder to spot at first.

Jongseob is well versed in picking up those clues and is the best person to address it. Of course if you want to directly call someone out he's happy to just support and be backup. But if you aren't confrontational he's handling it immediately in a respectful but direct way.

If anyone directly questions your cane or if you are just doing it for attention Jongseob is your biggest protector. If you want to answer questions he's all for it, Seobie won't stand for invasive people who feel entitled to others' medical information.

In conclusion, Jongseob is the most supportive partner and his goal when it comes to you is to give you anything and anything he can, to the best of his abilities. And that extends to disability and mobility aids. He'd be proud of his partner for persevering and letting themselves get the help they need.

A/N: to any other mobility aid users, hi I'm new here, but I'm excited to have more support and do more since I have it. I thought this would be cute bc it's been bouncing around in my head since I got my cane.