#i pick snarky options but over all supportive ones

[starrycove]

made a dark urge... kinda obsessed w him...

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

Ghoul Thought™️, perhaps a request? I haven’t played the game to know anything for sure, but I’m vibrating imagining the possibility that maybe he has a heightened sense of smell, and can smell just how turned on and wet his little vaultie has been for him from the moment they met. 🥵

Probably tries to ignore at first, but at a certain point he really needs to call her out😏

So, not only do I think ghouls overall would be able to smell when you were wet, I think ghouls with a particularly sensitive "nose" (I have spoken at some length about sense of smell and scent marking in ghouls, so you can find elaboration on that here) would be able to detect hormonal changes, so they'd be able to smell when you're ovulating.

Cooper can absolutely smell both, though he's not quite sure what he's picking up at first. He notices the tang in the air when you two initially approach one another, so he doesn't necessarily think much of it. What he fails to notice is the longing with which you'd been sizing him up before approaching. Your smell changes during your first conversation (well, more like a first argument, since every conversation with the man is about one crossed wire or snarky comment away from devolving into an argument, especially when you've only just met), and the change seems to stick once you both calmed down and agree to travel together.

However, the first time you two stop by the roadside to rest for a few hours, he notices the smell returning. He doesn't say anything about it, simply watches you drift off to sleep out of the corner of his eye, intrigued about this person who is so willing to travel with a ghoul, especially one as gruff and unwelcoming as he can be. Once you begin to snore lightly (a sound that makes him chuckle), he spends a long time just staring at you, studying you curiously. The smell has fully returned, and is even stronger than before, but it takes seeing you rubbing your thighs together and sighing in your sleep for him to fully realize what's going on.

He spends that whole night with the most painful, bothersome erection he's ever had in his life, but he's too annoyed with you and himself to do anything about it. The next morning, he's quieter than he'd typically be, but you don't know him well enough at that point to notice.

From that moment on, he notices it constantly. The idea that you simply find him, specifically, sexually attractive to the point of fairly blatant arousal is ridiculous to him, so he spends a long, long time turning the whole thing over and over in his brain; is it some adrenaline rush? Or a ghoul fetish? Do scarred-up, rotted near-corpses just get you going in general?

That theory is a wash when tested, though, since any time other ghouls are around and his nose picks up on it, he's also obviously there as well. Even observing from a distance doesn't really support the idea; you don't seem to really "click" with the others in exactly the same way. You're kind to them, of course, as you are to pretty much everyone, and it actually softens his heart to know you still see ghouls as real, whole people. But that's all it seems to be: friendliness. No matter how much he may try to deny it to himself, there's a chemistry, a spark between the two of you that he can't ignore, and that he doesn't see when you interact with others. He also cannot ignore the thrill it gives him to see other ghouls studying the two of you together, their eyes full of assumptions.

You always choose to sit close to him even when there are other options. You pester him with personal questions and inquiries about the Wasteland and he has to pretend to be annoyed by it, secretly overjoyed to have some seemingly genuine companionship for once in god knows how long. Sometimes, in your sleep, you unconsciously move close enough that you touch him. Rather innocent touches, considering, but they never fail to send his heart racing, leaving him humiliatingly aroused at as little as your back against his outer thigh, your face against his hip.

All the while, that scent tantalizes, haunts him.

He ignores the problem as long as he can, enjoying the way you two have slowly begun to chat, joke around with one another; there might even be some real trust developing there. He doesn't want to jeopardize that because he's lonely and can't control himself. Even if it's slowly beginning to seem to him that you might actually want him, too, he'd rather have your friendship and be happy with that than push his often rotten luck and risk losing you trying to be greedy.

But at the same time...feeling his long-dormant sex drive reawakening is strangely thrilling. It makes him feel human, makes him feel alive. For so long, he's found his sense of masculinity in violence, in vengeance and bloodshed. Your warm presence, your beauty, your scent...it all makes him feel masculine in a very different way, leaving him waiting impatiently most nights for you to fall deep enough asleep that he can sneak away to relieve the ache in his balls.

Of course, he doesn't go far enough away that he can't watch over you, still. No, he stays close enough that he can still see you, can study every inch and soft curve of your body as he strokes his throbbing cock. It's not disgusting or perverted if it's done out of necessity, he tells himself. The desert is a dangerous place, and he can't afford to take his eyes off of you when you're in such a vulnerable state. That doesn't mean he isn't left feeling guilty after he finishes, though, the euphoria of his orgasm tainted with shame. Still, he finds himself in the same position most nights, sighing your name wantonly as he spills all over the ground.

He can only fight his urges for so long, though.

You spent most of the previous week smelling of blood (something he also found tantalizing but decided to not think too hard on), which meant that soon you'd be ovulating. It was funny, almost, how he had all but completely forgotten pretty much everything about how women worked, but a handful of months with you and he's suddenly keeping track of your cycle (sort of) like it has anything to do with him. The whole thing makes him strangely nostalgic for when he and Barb were trying to conceive, and the emotions of that only add to the inner tumult he feels. The fact that your smell becomes even more temping, more inviting in this time only makes things worse for him.

The new game you'd been playing recently, however, would be the straw that ultimately broke the camel's back.

The last few nights, you'd taken to settling in for sleep, as per usual, but your breathing wouldn't drop down into the same deep, rhythmic pattern that indicated unconsciousness. Instead, you'd roll over onto your belly, a position you didn't usually sleep in, laying on your arm, and begin rather conspicuously grinding against your hand, pretending to be asleep all the while.

Cooper Howard is a man with an excellent poker face. Not much shakes him badly enough to draw out a genuine reaction. But the first time you did this, he sat a few feet away, frozen, a lit cigarette burning itself away to nothing as it dangled between his parted lips. The smell of you, the sound of your little whimpers and quiet sighs, had kept him nailed to that spot beside you all night two nights in a row, even after you'd finished and actually drifted off to sleep.

He tells himself tonight will be different if you pull the same stunt.

Which, of course, you do.

A shocked gasp leaves you when he grabs you by the ankle, dragging you a few feet through the sandy dirt towards him and flipping you onto your back, staring down at you as he pulls himself halfway on top of you.

"Filthy fucking tease." he growls, your natural perfume making his head swim as his deft fingers move to the button of your pants.

The pitch dark of the desert night is eerily silent, save for the harsh sound of your breaths intertwining as he helps wrestle the worn material down your legs, trying his best to rein in his strength and not shred it to pieces in his haste to get to that warm, inviting place between your legs. A snarl, feral and borderline inhuman, rips from his throat when his fingers finally find what he's been fantasizing about. The small part of him that has any control is nervous for a split second, worried to frighten you, but the shudder that seems to break down your spine in response isn't one of fear.

He knows he should be gentle, take his time, but the wetness that he feels, the heat, the hormones in the air short circuit his brain, and after a few swipes at your puffy clit, he sinks his middle finger inside you in one fluid motion, giving a few pumps before sliding his ring finger in alongside it. The sounds you let out are the most beautiful thing he's ever heard, and they drive him to rub and tease and fuck you with his hands until you're whimpering his name in a way that tells him you're close. Fleetingly, he wonders what his odds of being able to knock you up really are.

You turn your head quickly and snag his lips in a passionate kiss just as you begin to come apart all over his fingers, leaving him swallowing your moans and whimpers as his hips buck and grind wildly against your own. It's sloppy and rough and your teeth are bumping against one another, but you still bring your leg up around his hip, letting him rub himself against you as he cums in his pants.

After a few minutes, the two of you calm down enough to really look at one another, though you're both a little hesitant. No one says anything for a good, long second, but the look on your red, sweaty face says you're happy. Nervous, he tucks his face back into the crook of your neck, laying a few soft, sort of awkward kisses there, debating whether he should pull away or not. He doesn't want to impose himself on you anymore than he already has.

But your leg remains wound around his hip, holding him close as your hands move up to cradle the back of his head, petting softly, and the loving touch glues him in place, too lost in your affection to even think about going anywhere. He knows that you two are going to have to have a long, likely awkward talk about this, about what this makes you. He isn't dreading it as much as he imagined he'd be. He's eager to call you his, actually, if you'll let him...

...but not so eager that he can ignore the way you're starting to grind against him again. Or the way he's getting hard all over again. Poor thing, you're not getting much sleep tonight, are you?

He'll make it up to you somehow.

[blazinghotfoggynights]

I am so happy for episode 7x4. Why? It has already led to lines of communication about romantic and queer journeys that are not typical.

I see Team!Tuck and Team!Buddie have some members that are not happy with the other and think the other team is delusional or doesn't make sense. Only the members of that show's crew know what is going to happen. For all we know, Buck could meet a third party, fall in love, leave the 118, and go off to happily ever after.

(I so don't want that. But what can a girl do?)

I want to say that as someone who probably has just a teeny bit more of life experience than many people on here and other social media, no I am not sharing my age, I have seen, and experienced, a lot. Remember I mentioned lines of communication opening? They are open now because people are inspired and feel empowered to share their thoughts and experiences.

To Team!Tuck, yes, Team!Buddie is still quite a possibility. How? Did you know you can be so in love with someone you have no idea you are in love with them? Sounds crazy, right? But it can happen. It took many years for me to see that I was head over heels for my best friend. I never considered it. I never looked at him that way. We were just really close and besties.

It took someone asking me if I were stuck on a deserted island and could only have one person there with me, who I would choose. I said his name instead of my then boyfriend's name. I didn’t even think about it. It was reflexive.

The person was staring at me smiling and watching me as I realized what I’d said and then a montage of our friendship played in my mind.

“Oh my god.” That was me.

“Finally figured it out?” That was the other person.

When I thought about it, I compared men to him all the time. The qualities I was most attracted to in my partners up to that point were qualities they shared with him. But it was at that moment, many years into our friendship, that I realized that had been happening.

This leads me to Team!Buddie. Team!Tuck is valid and could very well be endgame. If the writers make Eddie a completely hetero man with no flexibility, Buddie will not happen. However, they have offered a character who is literally an amalgamation of Buck and Eddie as a possible love interest. It is funny to me, because when I look at the Tommy character I see the lovechild of Eddie Diaz and Evan Buckley. Buck picked a man who mirrors him physically but shares a lot with Eddie including military background, quick wit, snarkiness, the willingness to say screw the rules when needed, hobbies, etc.

If Buck knows with no uncertainty that Eddie is not, and will never be, an option, wouldn’t it make sense that a man who is so much like Eddie would catch Buck’s eye?

I will also say that it is not impossible for someone who truly believes they are 100% heterosexual their entire lives to realize one day that may not be the case. How do they realize it? They look at someone of the same sex and have an epiphany.

As a young one who was new to this world, I fell for the rhetoric that sexuality is static and does not change. You were either straight or gay. There was nothing else.

This older, wiser version of me knows the only things you can count on in life are change, surprise, and unpredictability. She is also grateful for those who worked hard to explain that sexuality is a spectrum and give those who never quite found a space a label that finally fit.

She is extremely grateful for the brave people who who have the courage to live out loud and raise their voices in pride so others know maybe one day they can do the same.

I will always have my fingers crossed for Buddie endgame. I’m talking big wedding, tears being shed, vows so sweet everyone requires insulin. You get the picture.

However, I also want to see the two characters who never have happiness or a partner who truly supports them find what Hen/Karen and Athena/Bobby have. If that is with other people, so be it.

One more time, I am going to say major respect for ABC and the show writers for flipping off that network that can go to hell and giving this arc life and to Oliver and Lou for doing what is bound to piss off a lot of people who won't be shy about vocalizing their narrowmindedness.

[dear-mrs-otome]

Tamamo - Main Story - Chp 02

Standard Disclaimer: I do this for fun. I don’t, and never would, claim to be proficient at JP. There will be mistakes herein. There will be dialogue I choose to smooth out or change, because it feels choppy just straight translating. There will be the occasional snarky aside and irreverence and just plain summarizing. If you’re looking for 100% pure accuracy, without commentary or localizing, this is not for you. If you don’t mind that…then proceed, and I hope you enjoy! And please, support your local localizer (they make this stuff look easy) and Cybird by playing the games and routes if/when they come to English.

Yoshino is scandalized by Tamamo’s nonchalant offer, still reeling to catch up when he lets go of her and picks up a nearby obi, remarking on its beauty and asking her opinion. She agrees, and before she knows it Tamamo and the merchants are discussing all manner of clothing options and outfits for her.

She starts to protest, but is cut off by a finger from Tamamo, laid over her lips. “Hush now, and just leave everything to me.” His low voice scatters her thoughts, and he turns back to point out another combination, drawing compliments on his taste. 

Any other concerns she raises are immediately brushed aside by Tamamo, who insists he wants to see her in the nice clothes, and he turns her over to the merchants and staff who are happy to busy themselves dressing, rearranging ‘Lady Yoshino’s’ hair, and applying makeup.

Eagerly, they ask for her opinion after they finish, and she hesitates. “Um...it’s incredibly nice, but don’t you think it’s a bit too much for me?” She’s never worn such a beautiful, extravagant kimono before. 

“Ridiculous! It suits you perfectly,” they gush. “Isn’t that right, Lord Tamamo?”

“Yes,” he agrees with a smile, giving her such  slow once-over that her heart begins to flipflop. “Every bit as beautiful as I expected. It’s not as if your everyday appearance is lacking...but dressed like this, you’re even more lovely.”

She can’t keep the smile off her face at such flattery, as she searches for words to answer him. “Th-thank you. But I’m not sure that’s true.”

“Humility can sometimes be a shortcoming, no?” Tamamo reminds her, insisting once again that he’s not exaggerating when he says she is beautiful. As he does, he picks up a hair ornament of delicate tortoiseshell and cradles her face in one hand to steady it.

His proximity sets her nerves alight, as he slowly slides the piece into her hair, his fingers lingering for long moments. “There, good. That looks perfect.”

She says she has no idea, being unable to see it herself, and Tamamo insists that he be the judge of that - and tells the merchants they will take the hairpiece too. 

His words sweep her out of the fantasy and back to reality, remembering that there is no way she can afford any of these lovely garments or accessories. She wonders if Tamamo is even aware that humans exchange money for goods…

Only to be pulled out of her fretting by the merchant assuring them that what Tamamo has paid already will cover the hairpiece as well. He assures a shocked Yoshino that Tamamo has paid for everything, and as she look on in mute astonishment Tamamo and the merchant settle up and they politely take their leave.

“I have so many questions…” she begins, when everyone had finally shuffled out. “But most of all, why did you buy these new clothes?”

Tamamo insist though that it only makes sense if she’s going to be seen with him - and when she still protests he snags her by the waist and draws her close, a hand at her chin so that her gaze meets his as he reminds her that a good woman elevates the status of a man beside her...and now she fits the bill perfectly.

She only has time for a token complaint before he’s ushering the both of them out the door.

“Where are we going?” she manages, as they walk down the corridor, and he tells her they’re headed to town, his face alight with curiosity. She wonders aloud if it’s alright for them to go on their own, and Tamamo brushes aside the troublesome concept of ‘getting permission’. 

As they walk, she finally dares to voice the question that’s been nagging at her - it was real money he gave them, right? Not fake money that would turn into a leaf later or something? Tamamo laughs and says she’s been listening to old folktales too much, and she sags with relief.

“Oh, phew. I’m glad we didn’t commit some kind of crime or something…”

“Good grief, what exactly do you take me for?” His beautiful features crumple sadly, and guilt immediately stabs her as she hastens to apologize for her lack of understanding about ayakashi.

“Nothing to be done for it, you’re forgiven,” he replies, immediately cheered again.

She tries a different tactic, asking HOW he had money, and Tamamo tells her he’d negotiated pay from Yoritomo earlier in exchange for his ‘services’ as a ‘visitor from China’. She recalls that is their cover story for the vassals, but Tamamo corrects her - it could be true, in a way, given that he was born on the continent across the sea and made his way to Japan many many years ago.

“That’s amazing...all the way from across the sea!” she exclaims, thinking how it’s obvious once again just how experienced and worldly Tamamo is. 

“Yes. But this is my first time seeing Kamakura,” he tells her, brimming with curiosity as he eagerly pulls her in the direction of town again.

As they make it into Kamakura, they’re surrounded by the hustle and bustle of it all. They both marvel at the wealth of trade good from across the country and sea, and the array of foodstuffs. “Before I was sealed in the sesshou-seki* I was in the city of Kyoto, which was wonderful, but Kamakura has a charm all its own,” Tamamo observes. 

* -  the ‘sesshou-seki’ or ‘Killing Stone’ is the stone he was trapped in, referenced in the prologue and it is a real place to this day, in the Tochigi Prefecture, Japan

She tells him she’s envious he’s seen a place as distinguished as Kyoto and he discusses the difference between the two towns - one grand and steeped in age, the other vibrant and still full of potential. He’s so eager, she thinks how she can practically see his ears and tail twitching with excitement, despite their being hidden right now.

 

They wander town some more, Tamamo taking special note of the incense sellers, before they find themselves eventually at a tea shop, relaxing and sampling the sweets and tea available. They're both enjoying their food, as Tamamo tells her how ayakashi have no real need to eat - to them, it's just a pleasant diversion.

She's smiling and laughing, talking about how caught up in all the sights and sounds of Kamakura she'd gotten.

"I see...I'm glad," Tamamo smiles, and reaches out to cradle her cheek. "I'm happy you're feeling a little bit better." She stares at him in astonishment, and he goes on. "Did you not have a distraught expression at the shogun's manor?"

She's surprised and a little embarrassed that he saw all of that so easily, and she asks if that's perhaps why he wanted to go into town in the first place. He says he is in her debt after all, and doesn't want to see her under the weather.

She's touched that he was paying such close attention to her, and that it belies his seemingly mercurial and carefree nature. "Thank you, Tamamo," she tells him, smiling. 

He brushes it off cheerfully, as only natural that he'd be concerned over her, and then sobers to ask her what it was that had her so upset. She's hesitant at first, wondering if she can confide in him, but he seems so trustworthy that she finally does - telling him she'd been fretting over whether she'd ever be able to become friendly with the people of the shogunate.

He doesn't seem to see this as anything to be concerned over, and she wonders aloud if the thought doesn't bother him. 

"I choose to live alone," he tells her, seemingly unconcerned. "Ayakashi don't have friends."

"Oh really?" She looks at him curiously, thinking how even in the bright light of day outside of his extraordinary beauty Tamamo looks perfectly human. He seems very well acquainted with the ins and outs of humanity as well...but that doesn't necessarily mean he isn't something completely different inside. 

Still, though...whether he's ayakashi or human, she can't help feeling as if she wants to get to know him better.

"Ayakashi lives are much longer than humans. Live long enough, and you get tired of the company of others," Tamamo tells her. 

"How old are you?" she asks him.

"Around 800 years old. I stopped keeping track after that," he replies. 

“Eight hundred?!” she yelps, stunned, but he just seems confused by her surprise.

“There’s no need to be so shocked, unless of course…” Tamamo takes her hand and presses a kiss to her fingertips, heat radiating from the touch of his lips on her skin as she tries not to short circuit entirely. “You dislike older men?”

<< Chapter 01 | Chapter 03 >> (TBC)

[nebulouscoffee]

bashir garak or ezri

Oooh great picks! I shall answer for all three😊

Julian

one aspect about them i love

That whole backstory with Kukalaka is SO endearing honestly; it really just gets to the heart of who he is, even by itself- but when paired with the whole 'Jules' reveal, it takes on a whole new poignancy

one aspect i wish more people understood about them

I've seen Julian described as naive a lot, usually because he "assumes the best of people"- and I'm not saying that isn't a valid read, but it just feels very incomplete to me! Yes he's childish sometimes, but he's not a baby lol- he's just strongly, strongly driven by the belief that people can always become better. We see him get VERY angry and snarky and (fearlessly) combative with people he believes are in the wrong; people who don't show any flexibility in their perspectives. But the moment a person shows any sort of inclination towards growth or evolution? He puts everything aside and believes in them. To me, this is not naivety- this is courage; even if (especially if!) he may get it wrong sometimes. DS9 (like the real world) is full of people who'll insist that wrongdoers will never change and only deserve to be punished for their mistakes- and imo, Julian makes a fascinating, refreshing, and essential foil to this. (On a more specific note- he does NOT hang out with Garak because he doesn't fully understand the atrocities Garak committed!! Not beyond 'The Wire', anyway. He literally heard (and at the time, fully believed) multiple stories involving Garak being 1. a Gul during the Occupation, 2. a mass murderer (with victims both Cardassian and Bajoran), and 3. an interrogator of literal children. If not the exact details, he certainly knows the magnitude of Garak's crimes- he just chooses to go to great lengths to save his life anyway. This says something way more interesting about him, I think- about his inclination to believe in anyone he thinks would grow better if given the chance, and his willingness to be the one giving them that chance. Which, incidentally, is also why I struggle to see him cutting off his parents, though I do understand why people find value in reading & writing stories like that)

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have about this character

He is a polyglot, but this is one skill he very much keeps to himself. The reasons why are complicated, and linked with how his ideas of home and family and lineage and history and Earth and connection and talking and talkative-ness and "skill" are all somewhat tainted by the discovery of what his parents did to him

one character i love seeing them interact with

SO many options, but let's talk about Jadzia- I love how they moved past the initial awkwardness of Julian's crush on her into this deep, supportive, fun (!!!) and extremely loving bond. There's a lot they have in common (Extreme Imposter Syndrome Buddies :D) which means they always know when the other needs a good pep talk, and it's adorable. I love how they have no boundaries sometimes (Jadzia buying him porn will always be funny), I love that they're in cahoots, I love that they make each other laugh- they care about each other so much!! I honestly think it was one of the best-written friendship arcs between a male and female character on Trek, which is why I'm always so *sighs deeply* about Julian's feelings for Jadzia being dredged up again in- ///cuts myself off because you've heard this rant before from everyone and their moogie haven't you///

one character i wish they would interact with/interact with more

Fascinating conversations Julian Bashir and Kira Nerys could've had (my beloved): long-term health issues in Bajoran mining victims & Resistance fighters; nature vs nurture and their "dangerous" Augment/Mirror selves; Sisko as Commanding Officer vs Sisko as Emissary; nerding out over Bajoran music; why must Jadzia Dax be so beautiful; complicated connections with cultural roots; Kirayoshi & postnatal care; the concept of "forgiveness"; revisiting that "frontier medicine" scene to highlight how much they've both changed; Kira offering a kinder approach to "Jules Bashir died in that hospital" through the concept of a pagh

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have that involve them and one other character

He never, ever let the whole Jem'Hadar thing go. In fact, he actually set up this secret rehabilitation centre in Goran'Agar's name after the war, which now provides intensive care for all the Jem'Hadar and Vorta left behind in the AQ. He told me himself :)

Garak

one aspect about them i love

It's been years since my first watch, but I'll never forget how excited I got every single time I saw "Special Guest Star Andrew Robinson" in the credits lol. You just know you're in for a great one; he's such a fantastic and scene-stealing character!

one aspect i wish more people understood about them

I just feel like, for a character whose most famous line is "They're all true, [especially the lies]", there is WAYYY too much discourse about him that approaches him from extremes? And it always misses the point imo. Garak was a spy, assassin, interrogator and torturer for the Cardassian government, who participated in (or at the very least, aided) a colonial and genocidal occupation, and expresses supremacist, xenophobic and fascist beliefs for the majority of the series. Erasing any of this is would be erasing not just who he was, but who he is. But the lack of imagination re how to move forward with him if we are engaging with such themes is equally, if not more, frustrating to me. Sure, a lot of the cutesy art and fanfics can have him behaving overly sincere and out of character- but the counter response is always "how dare you woobify this racist war criminal he's violent and dangerous and bigoted and therefore he would NOT do or say or feel any of that!!!", and- okay, so is the idea of him designing and sewing dresses out of character, then...? Is the image of him debating books over lunch with a bib tucked in too woobified? Is the notion of him trying to set up a fellow (Bajoran!!) business owner on a date too fanfic-ey? Because guess what- that's literally how he behaves on the show! Garak is a self-aware self-woobifier, that's literally the whole point, he's "just a plain simple tailor" wink, wink- and without at least some element of that comical mundanity, that sort of absurdist domesticity, the character just isn't recognisable imo. Garak is the con artist who fell for his own con; he's spent so long playing various roles that he now over-performs everything and has no idea where the performance ends and the genuine begins, literally what makes his character work is that you're looking at this war criminal just doing benign stuff like sampling drinks or watching a tennis match or gifting his friend chocolates and wondering just WHAT is going on inside his head- and, "he did horrible things and therefore must be incapable of any form of sincerity or affection or regret and the perception of any of those things is woobification" is such a reductive (and boring!) approach to him imo. I don't mean any of this as apologia; there are many, many ways in which a person can be bigoted and cruel, and Garak is those things- I just feel like people often misrepresent the manner in which he is those things (usually by making him unfunny and weirdly macho, which I just cannot understand at all😂)

TL;DR- Garak the poor sad misunderstood baby who never enjoyed any of the bad things he did and only thinks about Julian Bashir 24/7 is out of character, sure- but Garak the violent emotionless villain who treats all Bajorans abusively 24/7 and will never ever grow or change is... just as divorced from canon imo (imo!! Emphasis on "o"!!)

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have about this character

Garak himself doesn't always fully remember the details of his past; he has this very Cardassian ability to specifically delete anything he wants to from his memory, and he's better at it than most (though, still not always successful). Only thing Garak regularly tops is the List Of People Garak Lies To basically

one character i love seeing them interact with

Well, apart from the obvious- I think every scene between him and Odo in IC/TDIC is incredibly immersive and top tier! The actors are SO good together, and the only reason Odo isn't in the next category is I actually think it's perfectly in character for both of them to just never bring up the whole torture thing ever again

one character i wish they would interact with/interact with more

KIRAAAAA but tbh, I'm more interested in their post-canon dynamic than anything, so instead I'll go with Sisko! Every time these two are on screen together, amazing. The effortless back and forth. The intellectual battling. The subtly flirty line deliveries(!!!) The palpable shifts in the power dynamic. The oddly respectful snarking. Again, the way these two actors are SO GOOD

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have that involve them and one other character

Some may claim that Garak hates the more outlandish civilian outfits that Jake and Julian wear. I say he made them

Ezri

one aspect about them i love

The sheer impact of actually getting to spend a whole season with the next Dax (after years of only hearing about Curzon) just cannot be overstated imo. Like, we the audience got to experience firsthand what it was like for Benjamin to first see Jadzia walk out of that shuttle; for Jadzia to wake up one day and find herself the newest link in a long-revered chain- we actually saw the new host struggling to adjust, reconciling all those lifetimes of memories all over again, rekindling and redefining Dax's old relationships (the relationship with the audience very much included!)- and then on top of that, the new host wasn't even trained to take on the symbiont?? What an incredible character premise! I was obsessed from the moment she said "Hello Benjamin it's me Dax"

one aspect i wish more people understood about them

Ezri is Jadzia's successor; not Jadzia's replacement. She cannot replace Jadzia- that's literally the entire point of her arc, that she should stop trying! She's a fascinating character in her own right, and also extremely interesting to think about and discuss independent of whom she will end up/should've ended up with

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have about this character

Ezri Tigan was not "anxious" in a rambly nervous way like Ezri Dax, but more hyper-competent and "I'm always unhappy because everything I do HAS to be perfect so I'm never satisfied and I hate myself" (which was definitely how she was trained to think by her mother). For this reason, joining with Dax actually ends up being good for her in the long run! Nothing drives an oppressive voice out of your head quite like suddenly having eight other voices in there lol

one character i love seeing them interact with

I know some people don't like her and Worf mistakenly thinking they're in love and hooking up and then realising they work better as friends, but I actually think it's very understandable for both of them, and the friendship they form afterwards is so wholesome. That scene where he asks for her advice and she just calls out corruption in the Klingon empire is one of my favourite Ezri scenes ever :D

one character i wish they would interact with/interact with more

It is my firm belief that Sisko and Ezri's S7 arcs should have revolved around each other. Ben's journey at this point is so tied up in his ever-growing disconnect from linear time and corporeality, and imo nothing grounds this better than his three-lifetime bond with Dax! He should have talked about the Prophets and Benny Russell and the whole concept of destiny with his favourite old worm. It also would've been revelatory for Ezri, who herself is trying to adjust to the non-linearity (300 years of memories she can't easily get in order) and non-corporeality (whose body IS this anyway???) of being Dax

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have that involve them and one other character

I know we all have our theories as to why and how and when exactly she and Julian break up, and while I do enjoy the drama sometimes, I still fundamentally feel like it would be short and amicable and they'd remain close friends for life. Or maybe I'm just a big sap hehe

[andi-justplays]

It’s been a while since I last played Love Island the game and I’m a little late already since there’s S6 now but I’m only on episode 30 something of Ex in the Villa (S5) right now but ohMYGOD I have NEVER been this frustrated over a game before????? you can’t defend yourself, all of your so called friends in the Villa are so fake and two faced AND NONE of the LIs are 100% worth it at this point. The most okay one is Finn but Kat’s just annoying the fuck out of me because she’s so narcissistic. 

damn, I honestly didn’t think they would top the frustrating Hope x Noah drama back in S2 cause S3 was meh and S4 was alright but WOOOW they cranked up the whole frustrating storyline up to 10000% with this season. Not to mention Suresh, like he’s just so frustrating like I pick absolutely EVERY option to reject him and he’s still delusional and now secretly pining over Gabi??? truly a red flag character my god Alfie is such a red flag as well, pretending to still be an innocent naive boy with “little experience” when it comes to dating but gets his head turned every 5 seconds and doesn’t even let MC explain herself when he fully misunderstood the situation. Now that he’s back with Meera from Casa Amor, he’s still making eyes at MC as if he didn’t push her so far away and also cheat on her at Casa Amor.  Johnny/Nicolas IM SO MAD AT THIS CAUSE I WAS ROOTING FOR JOHNNY LIKE I WAS ABOUT TO FALL FOR THIS GOOD LOOKING THEATER BOY AND HE RIVALED THE OTHER BOYS FOR BEING ONE OF THE WORST ONES OF THEM ALL. Truly a pathological liar. He even got most of the islanders on his side which is CRAZY since half of them where at the Villa with both of them this whole time.  Dana you stupid bitch, you’re not being a friend at all. Like at this point I truly do not care about how you feel cause you switch up so much. And most of your drama shouldn’t even concern me anyway goddamn. Kat’s just damn crazy, like I’m so tired of her. She even tries to talk to you like “babes im only trying to help you out” KAT I DID NOT ASK U TO DO THAT AND ITS NOT EVEN HELPFUL and also she switched up so fast too just because of whatever she hears. Doesn’t even matter to her if it’s true or not. It’s wild I’ve met someone in perosn like this before and it’s the most tiring thing ever like please I would rather not talk to you for the rest of my life than endure all of the drama you put onto yourself. Meera’s just snarky for no reason. I ignore her all the time. I miss Arlo a lot like she and MC didn’t get on for the first few episodes but when she was finally with Pete, they would’ve made such good friends.  Gabi, is okay, like I always play nice with her cause I blame Suresh over the drama cause he never told her about MC but she’s still hung up on Suresh and it’s just stupid at this point so girl, you do you but I’m not supporting how stupid you’re being. (DATE ME INSTEAD)

LULU IS PRECIOUS SO FAR, I love her, like she could be so snarky to MC for being Exes with Suresh but she has been nothing but supportive. Which is weird cause she’s had the least amount of time with MC by far. I swear if Finn does something of the red flag sort, I am running away with Lulu.

[whitestaghere]

Not your fault - Levi x reader

Just felt like it had been a while and came up with this. Hope ya'll enjoy reading!❤️

Warnings: none really. Mentions of death. Angst and a dash of fluff at the end.

Saying I was scared was an understatement. No, I was shook to the very brink of my existence. I hadn't expected it to be so nerve wracking as it was, now that I had finally joined the scout regiment.

I had expected this of course.

Who wouldn't? Specially when they were proned to fighting naked humans as tall as trees running at you like they were on their morning caffeine rush.

What was even worse was when the stoic captain of the special operations squad decides to pick you to be part of his squad. "I appreciate your skills," he said.

Well I guess there wasn't really much to fuss about that apart from the new mission we were setting up for and our very special rivalry.

Today, everything had gone smooth until that female titan had decided to come waltzing in.

She had managed to wipe out all of Levi squad and I felt my blood boil. My mind was in a blur, filled with thoughts of nothing but blood lust. Just from her.

Eren's screams played at the back of my mind and even as I caught sight of him shooting towards where I was, I couldn't find it in me to stop him.

As cruel as it sounded- I wanted her to feel the pain as I did.

I glanced down at Petra's body. The eyes that always greeted me with brightness were now looking at me blankly. Tasting the saltiness from the tears that streamed down my face unbeknownst to me- my cool demeanor finally broke. Snapping out of my trance I pushed myself off the branch I stood upon.

Shooting my hooks into the skin of the female titans shoulder, I zipped through the air screaming in anguish. I swung my blades over my head, aiming for the hand that covered her nape. If I could just cut through her wrist-

Just as planned, my blades sunk into the flesh of her wrist. Deep, but not deep enough.

If only I hadn't been distracted and just pushed away right then..

Her large hand came in contact with my body, swatting me off like as if I were some insect. Which in her case, I probably looked it. With a pained yelp, I was being thrown through the air.

"Y/N!" Eren.

My eyes shot open just when a bolt of lightning struck through the air. Ah.

I realised what was happening.

I tried to aim my grappling hooks at one of the trees before I probably fell to my death or by the slightest chances, fell straight into a titans mouth. But everything was in a blur and with the way the titan hit me, I couldn't quite direct my focus onto one thing. And before you know it, I had already inched closer to the ground, crashing straight into a tree. I doubled forward and my body slid down against the rough surface.

Cursing inwardly, I glanced down at my body; my lower half, sprawled out on the ground as I slumped against the tree.

I wanted to move, to assist Eren - but my body refused to respond. I couldn't budge and for a moment, I hoped I had died through impact because the thoughts that ran through my head were killing me.

My body felt limp almost like as if I was paralysed. I fought to keep my eyes open. The ground beneath me shook and my ears were filled with the sound of Eren's titan screaming. And with that, black filled my vision.

>>present<<

My body shot up at once and I winced at the sudden pain that shot through my body.

"You're awake."

That voice.

I snapped my head to my right and I was greeted by those steel eyes that belonged to none other than the captain. I had this urge to shrink and disappear out of existence under his icy gaze and-

Wait.

I was alive? Or no wait. Good Gods, please don't tell me he died too!

Without thinking, my hand shot out to grab his arm that was crossed over his chest. This took him by surprise and his eyes shifted between me and my hand with a hint of annoyance laced in his features. His body had tensed under my hold and I immediately pulled away with a gasp.

"I-I'm sorry sir. I just-"

"I found you not too far from the rest of the squad," he cut me off. My head lowered at the mention of the others. "I didn't think you were alive considering the amount of blood you lost. But that's when you coughed, splattering all your substances at me and well- you know the rest."

I didn't know what to say. Even if I did, I didn't have it in me to speak or make a snarky remark like I usually did. The thought of my fallen comrades made me sick to the stomach. But I couldn't cry either.

No. Just not with him here.

You remember how I said we had a special rivalry going on between us? Yeah.

Ever since Levi had asked me to join his squad- we'd always been at eachother's throats. Which I didn't quite expect considering how he picked me.

He'd say something sarcastic, I'd snap back at him and vice versa. It eventually came to the point that commander Erwin had to walk in one time, suggesting Levi that it would be best if I were switched to Mike's squad. But Levi had simply walked out of the room.

Just like that, Erwin asked me to make the choice and I said no. Why you ask?

I wanted Levi to accept me.

I couldn't even remember what started this rivalry to begin with and it was eating at me constantly. I had never seen him snap at people as easily as he did with me. Well he did occasionally, but this was on a daily basis and it made no sense at all.

Hanji said it was just his nature and that I'd understand him later. I realised that was she said was just ridiculous because this man, he didn't even dare to show me a little bit of respect. So I decided I'd leave him be and put up a mask whenever he'd target me but that's when things got worse. He always found reasons to argue with me and I caught up with it too.

Breaking down in front of him wasn't an option now.

Levi's chair scraped against the floor signalling that he was probably leaving.

"Thank you," I said quickly, making him stop in his tracks. I'd never said that to him before. But since he saved me, it was only right that I did.

His head turned around halfway and he eyed me narrowly. "For saving me," I finished. He clicked his tongue in response and left the room, shutting the door a little louder than I expected.

Cue the breakdown.

I flopped myself back on the bed. Grabbing the pillow that supported my head, I hugged it tightly as I screamed into it.

The tears didn't stop.

I couldn't save my comrades. Why did the captain even decide to pick me in the first place if I couldn't save my own comrades?

It was getting harder to breathe with my face stuffed in the pillow and the choked up tears didn't make it any easier. I felt so pathetic. But no matter how much I tried, it wouldn't stop. The guilt and hatred just kept coming back to me.

It felt like I had been crying for hours already as my body spasmed, signalling the next fresh batch of tears approaching.

The sound of the door opening and closing again made my body freeze.

I peeped up from my pillow and regretted it instantly seeing the captain standing at the foot of my bed, holding two cups in his hands. His eyes locked with mine again.

Maybe it was me just seeing things but his eyes widened and very slowly, he made his way upto the side of my bed.

"I brought you some tea," he said stoically. "Drink it before it gets cold."

I subtly wiped my eyes against the pillow and sat myself up on the bed like as if I hadn't been crying my eyes out just a few moments ago.

Avoiding eye contact, I thanked him silently and took the cup from his hand. Even though I wasn't looking at him, I could feel his gaze lingering on my face. Feeling too self conscious, I brought the cup up to my mouth only to wince as I burned my tongue. A weird sound came from me and I slapped my hand over my mouth.

"Tch. Be careful idiot. I didn't ask you to drink it that fast," Levi scolded. I face palmed inwardly, brushing it off with a sheepish grin. He cocked a brow and shifted his gaze outside the window.

Silence.

I didn't mind the silence, but with him sitting right there, it felt like my nerves were dancing. If that was even possible.

Eyeing him subtly, I noticed how his gaze seemed distant, longing. And that's when I realised. I was being selfish.

I wasn't the only one who had lost my comrades.

"C-captain-"

"Levi."

I tilted my head in confusion and nodded right after catching what he had meant. "Levi. I-I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"For everything."

"Be specific." I gulped. So he wanted a full on confession. Here it goes.

"Well for being.. for being a brat." He raised his brows and turned to look at me. I shifted my gaze to the floor at once, finding it easier to speak calmly that way.

"That wasn't a joke, I promise. I was being selfish. I didn't know how much pressure I might have been putting on you by always being snarky and uncooperative. And now too.. I was considering my own feelings without thinking about how you felt. I just- didn't understand why you hate me so much."

"I don't hate you," he said abruptly. I looked at him slowly but reluctantly.

"I-" he ran a hand through his hair, releasing a frustrated sigh. "I don't hate you. I was just worried."

"Worried?" I asked.

"Worried you'd end up like this. Or by the least, end up dead."

Ouch.

"You doubted my skills.. yet you picked me to be a part of your squad. I don't get it," I mumbled.

"Idiot. It's not like that," he barked. "I recall saying I respected your skills. I really do. It's just that you can be reckless at times."

I gasped in disbelief.

"Reckless?"

"Yes. Reckless."

"How could you-" he raised a brow and eyed my position on the bed. I followed his gaze and it dawned on me. Half of my body was wrapped in bandages and my arm was in a cast.

Yeah. Reckless.

"I had no doubt in your skills, keep that in mind brat. I picked you for my squad because I knew you'd be a good addition to it and-" He paused, looking like as if he were in thought before continuing.

"It was easier to keep an eye on you this way."

I shut my eyes tightly, guilt flooding through my veins little by little.

"But I failed." My eyes shot open hearing this.

"I failed you and I failed my squad."

"Levi-"

"No y/n. There's no denying it," he said. I noticed how his voice was beginning to shake and that just made my heart ache. I had never seen him this way. "I told you that I added you to keep an eye on you and look at you now. Even worse, I failed to protect the rest of my squad."

"Levi," I said softly. "You know, if I ever end up dying out there- I'd never blame you. I'd never say you failed to protect me. But what I would want you to do, is to give our sacrifices meaning. We devoted our lives. We chose to go down this path knowing the circumstances. Knowing that someday there could be a chance we wouldn't come back home. So just know, this is not your fault and they don't blame you either. Even if it is, we must make their sacrifices worth something."

Levi stared intently at me but this time, I didn't feel like shrinking away. I wanted the man in front of me to have reason to fight, to know he wasn't to blame. And that all of this- we were facing all of this together.

He didn't say a word. I didn't expect him to either and I didn't mind it.

His gaze was everywhere and for a second when his eyes met mine, I couldn't help my urge and slowly yet hesitantly- reached out for him.

"May I?" I asked.

He tilted his head, confused by what I was asking permission for. I opened my arms slightly for him and after a short while, he shockingly leaned in slowly (not before shifting awkwardly in his seat though). Wrapping one arm around his shoulders and one hand on his nape, I pulled him into my embrace gently.

I felt his fingers trace over my clothes slightly like as if he were contemplating what to do. After a few seconds, his body completely relaxed in my arms and I felt his hands slowly snake around my waist.

"It's okay Levi," I whispered and rubbed his back in attempt to comfort him. He tucked his head into the crook of my neck. That made a soft smile crawl up my face.

This man was a fighter but he was also human. A human with feelings no matter how stoic he could be. Hanji was right.

>>Third person's pov<<

It was at that moment, that a new friendship began to blossom between the two. A spark of hope and a reason to fight in their dark world.

Okay phew.

That came out a lot more angsty than I thought it would be haha. But I hope you all enjoyed reading it and have a wonderful day/night!❤️

[lucyintheskywithxanax]

I Saw You Trying, My Love

Pairing: Wilhemina Venable x Fem Reader

A/N: ok so this is long, and angry. It all happened because I really wanted to explore the headcanon that Wilhemina would be very possessive and very jealous if she were in a relationship. How would that relationship work? Could it work? I hope you’ll enjoy this piece, lovelies <3

Word count: ~ 8 200   

“And what do you think you’re doing?”

Wilhemina’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and angry.

You ignored her. You kept shoving the contents of your wardrobe into your bag.

“I said, what do you think you’re doing?”

“I heard you the first time,” you snapped. You threw one last pair of socks – your favourite, fluffy and glittery – into your bag and gave it a shake. “I thought you’d have figured it out by now.”

You zipped up your bag and stomped past Wilhemina out of the room you had shared with her for the past two months. She must have realized how serious you were, by then, because she followed close behind you. She had never done that before when you had had a fight. She was too proud to run after you like a desperate child. Usually she would let you walk off and wait for you to blow off steam. But today, the sound of her cane followed you down the stairs and into the living room as you went around it, grabbing items you would need – your book, your glasses, your phone charger. Wilhemina’s watch. You threw that back on the couch when you realized what it was.

“Has your brain turned to mush? Where do you plan to go? You have nowhere to go to, Y/N.”

Wilhemina positioned herself in the doorway, blocking your way, both her hands gripping her cane. You came to a halt in front of her and scowled.

“I’m not a baby, Wilhemina,” you retorted, your face mere inches from hers. Your words were thick with anger. “I’ll get along just fine without you. Actually, I’ll be better off without you. Now move.”

She stood her ground, glaring back at you.

“What are you gonna do?” you hissed. “Uh? Lock me up? Bring me food once a day, torture me? Are you going to lock me up in here until you break me and turn me into the obedient pet you wish I were?” You paused to take a breath. “Is that your plan, Mina, my love?” You all but spat the last two words at her like a curse.

For a second you recoiled. You hadn’t meant to do that, turn a term of endearment, a promise of care and tenderness whispered so many times before to soothe and comfort and reassure, into poison. But on second thought, you were glad you had. She deserved the sting.

“I don’t –“she started, but you interrupted her.

“For God’s sake I have the right to spend time with my friends! Not all my life revolve around you, Wilhemina! You cannot keep me with you every minute of every day like a fucking dog!” A fresh bout of fury rose to your head and took control of you. “I can spend time with other people, I can enjoy myself without you! But what I can’t stand is you snapping at me and calling me names every time I so much as smile to someone else! I’ve had enough.” You lowered your arms in defeat, shaking your head at her. “I’ve had enough. I’m leaving. Move.”

Wilhemina’s face was hard and angry, her jaw clenched tight, her poise proud and dominating, but her eyes – you had always been able to tell what she truly felt by looking into her eyes. They were your favourite thing to stare at, not only because it was so easy to get lost in them, but because they were the key to understanding her. The key that opened the safe where she hid herself when she did not know how to communicate or thought she had to lie to keep herself safe. Her eyes were always, always honest. Especially with you. You took one look at them now and then had to look away before your resolve left you.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“To Maggie’s place.”

Wilhemina scoffed bitterly. “Why, of course. Right into the arms of the daft prostitute.”

“Mina she’s my best-friend since high-school,” you growled, raising your free hand to rub your forehead in frustration. “Please don’t insult her.”

“And what a friend indeed. Always so eager to please, so eager to have you all by herself so that she can lay her dirty little hands on your arm or - ”

“This is what best-friends do!” you roared.

Wilhemina didn’t even flinch.

“Why don’t you screw her tonight?”

“Alright, you – you know what, I’ve had enough.”

You pushed past her, and you must have been too brutal, or maybe she had been unsteady to begin with; in any case, she dropped her cane, and her knees gave way. She winced as she braced herself for the fall, for the pain – but you wrapped your arms around her waist to support her, and held her against you. “I’ve got you,” you whispered into her hair.

Time froze. Silence fell. You closed your eyes, nuzzling your nose in her hair. What were you doing? Leaving her? Ridiculous. As if you could live without her. You pressed her closer against you, feeling like you could burst into laughter at your own excessive behavior. This was just like any other fight you had had with Wilhemina before, nothing you could not mend. Leaving this house, leaving this woman, had never been an option. It would mean leaving your heart. Leaving a part you wouldn’t – couldn’t – survive without.

You dropped a kiss on her forehead and were about to pull away. To cup her face and kiss her mouth and laugh with her at how stupid, how childish you were.

But then you remembered. All the times she had gone too far. All the snapping and the hurting and the possessive, jealous, unhealthy behavior. Earlier this afternoon she had slapped one of your coworkers and friends for “standing too close to you”. It was the first time she had used physical violence. The last straw.

You knew where it all came from, the insecurity and the fear and the pain. But that did not make it acceptable.  

Gently, you let her go, picked up your bag and made for the front door.

“Y/N?”

She followed you down the corridor, stopped a few inches away from you as you turned the key in the lock. You felt her hand brush your elbow, but she did not touch you. Somehow it was this, her hesitation, that broke your heart.

“Don’t come after me,” you told her over your shoulder.

“Y/N don’t you dare –“

You opened the door, ignoring her, closing your eyes against the setting sun and the tears that were starting to pool. Wilhemina’s voice rose behind you again, not angry anymore, but shaking, and terrified. She was terrified.

“Y/N don’t you – “

You slammed the door behind you and ran down the driveway to your car, afraid you’d turn back and fall into her arms if you stopped for one second.

It hurt. It felt like your heart had been torn out of your chest. You opened the door of your car with shaky hands, sobs wracking your body, barely seeing anything through your tears.

You didn’t remember much after that. You must have driven all the way to Maggie’s. Knocked on her door, with your bag in one hand and sobs bubbling out of your throat. She must have let you in, asked you, were you alright, was Wilhemina alright – perhaps she hugged you. Certainly she made you some tea, for Maggie was one of those people who believe tea can make everything better. As if you had not irremediably broken what you cherished most.  

You must have drunk your tea, to please Maggie.

The bed in her spare room was big and comfortable. The sheets smelt of fresh peaches. You spent the rest of the evening cocooned in their warmth, alternating between dozing and sobbing into the pillows. When night fell, Maggie brought you dinner on a tray. She sat beside you as you swallowed what your stomach could hold. And then she asked you what had happened.

You hadn’t been able to tell her yet. You’d thought that, perhaps, if you kept it a secret, your leaving Wilhemina wouldn’t be real. You would be able to go back home and find her there waiting for you. She would rise when she’d hear you come in, and she would smile that fond smile of hers and wrap you up in her arms and kiss you slow and sweet. Somehow, all of your problems would be gone.  

It didn’t work like that. You knew it didn’t. But still, you couldn’t help but hope.

Maggie didn’t believe you, at first. She gawked at you, then narrowed her eyes and scrutinized your face. She was naive, Maggie. Very romantic. She believed love was stronger than everything else. She had spent five minutes with you and Wilhemina and proclaimed with tears in her eyes that she had never seen two people more in love. It simply wasn’t possible for you to be without Wilhemina, and for Wilhemina to be without you. You would cease to exist. The world would explode.

But then, as you dissolved into tears again, unable to finish your story as you desperately clang to her, her face fell. She let out a small “oh” that sounded so surprised, so final, so defeated. It rang in your ears like a bell mourning death.

You didn’t go to work the day after. Nor the day after that. You knew Wilhemina would be at Kineros, knew she was too hardworking to even consider taking a day off. Hell, Wilhemina could be dying of pneumonia, she would still drive to work and sit at her desk and boss everyone around. Throwing snarky comments like knives at frightened employees, making sure everyone was doing their jobs. You could picture her, sitting straight and proud in her chair, with her cane leaning against her desk and her hair tied in that high ponytail you loved so much, for it accentuated her sharp cheekbones. Had she taken off the photograph on her desk? Of you and her, on a sunny day in the countryside a year ago, a few days after you had started dating. Your hand on her cheek, your teeth on her chin, her eyes half-closed and crinkled up with laughter.

You wouldn’t have gone to work even if Wilhemina hadn’t been there. There was no point anymore. You had never really cared for the job anyway. The only thing that had made life interesting had been Wilhemina.

So you spent hours in bed until the sheets no longer smelt of fresh peaches but of your sweat and tears. You went for a run with Maggie. You tried to keep yourself busy, read a book, watched movies, cleaned Maggie’s house. You knew you couldn’t spend the rest of your life at Maggie’s, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

It became harder to get up in the morning. Harder to fall asleep at night. So you daydreamed and thought of Wilhemina. To soothe the pain of her absence. You thought of her face in the morning, still soft from sleep. That magic moment when she would wake and those big, brown, doe eyes of hers would meet yours and smile. How deftly she would do her hair, ponytail always perfectly centered. How sometimes, while she waited for the water to boil for her tea, she would stare out the window and get lost in the view.  

One day it struck you how often Maggie did touch you. She was a very touchy-feely person, had always been: she would pat your shoulder or hold your hand or stroke your arm or kiss your cheek. It was innocent, she behaved like that with everyone. But now you realized how it must have looked to someone as insecure as Wilhemina.

Maggie was beautiful. All blue eyes and soft strawberry blond locks and pink cheeks and pretty flowery dresses. She was soft, and selfless, and very kind, and everyone adored her. She taught French at the University. Had a fiancé, wanted to start a family. Exercised every day. She was normal and healthy – more than that, she was perfect in every way. No rough edges, no high walls, no back pains that kept her up all night, no early appointments to the doctor’s, no days that could be ruined by one glance at her reflection in the mirror. Maggie had found her place in the world and the world cherished her.

And yet – and yet how brighter Wilhemina shone in your head. She was a lighthouse, Maggie a candle. How much more precious and rare Wilhemina was. There were a million things in her that singled her out as one of the most fascinating person you had met. How she could make a witty comment on something the likes of Maggie would never notice in the first place. How she would stare right into the eyes of whatever scared her and defeat it with patience and determination. How deeply, how fiercely she loved.

On the eighth morning without her you woke up completely panicked and haunted by the knowledge that she was hurting on her own. She would never tell anyone she needed help, she had never allowed anyone but you to see her vulnerable. She would push on through her days as if everything was perfectly fine and go back every night to a dark, cold, lonely house where everything would remind her of you. Did she get enough sleep? Was she even eating? It seemed likely to you she would use food deprivation to punish herself. Eating the bare minimum to make it through the day without collapsing.

You asked Maggie to check on her. She drove to your house one evening and came back in a sour mood. Oh, Wilhemina was just fine, she jeered. Her usual pleasant, cheerful self. She had opened the door, taken one look at her, and sent her off with a scoff. Maggie was so angry she spilled most of her drink on the floor. And despite it all, you couldn’t help but smile.

In the morning of the tenth day, after Maggie had gone to work, you came downstairs and slumped on the living room couch. It was a beautiful, sunny day, so you had opened all the windows and the front door to let the draft in. You prayed the fresh air would take away some of the ache in your chest. Or maybe a murderer would walk into the house and put an end to your misery.  

You were starting to doze off when you heard a knock on the front door. You started, and sleepily called out “It’s open”.

Silence, as if whoever stood outside hadn’t quite made up their mind to come in yet. You yawned, scratched your head. The sound of a cane tapping on the floor filled the hall.

For a second you felt you were about to faint. Then your body sprang up, eyes wide-opened, heart pounding in your ears.

You sat down on a nearby chair facing the door. Ran a hand through your hair, straightened your clothes. You waited.

Tap. Tap. The sound of her cane brought tears to your eyes – for how you had missed it. Not so much the sound itself but the promise that came with it, seeing her, being with her. Love and happiness and everything that mattered in the world.

The tapping stopped. You raised your head. Your racing heart leaped out of your chest straight into her hands, like a fledgling that had left its nest too soon and flew back trembling and terrified to the safety of home. How stupid you had been to leave at all.

She stood in the doorway more beautiful than you remembered her, because so painfully missed, so hoped for, so loved.

She looked tired, but fine �� not exhausted, not starved, not over-worked. Thank God. Some of the tension that had been building in your shoulders vanished. You searched her face for signs of emotions and truth behind her facade, but could find none. Even her eyes were inscrutable.

For a few, agonizingly long seconds you both stayed silent, glaring at each other, both of you too proud to lower your eyes or look away first. Then Wilhemina took a breath and opened her mouth, and your body leaned towards her in expectation.

“Your productivity at work this past week was astonishing,” she said.

Right. You straightened in your seat, and crossed your legs.

Wilhemina waited, but as no answer came from you she added: “Do you intend to get fired?”

“If you’ve come here to scold me, you can leave now,” you mumbled. Your hand started rubbing circles on your knee. “I’m not interested.”

Another pause. You picked a book on the coffee table and stared intently at it. The silence was painful. From the corridor came the ticking of the clock hung on the wall. You could just make out Wilhemina’s purple shoes and pale ankles out of the corner of your eye.

When the silence became intolerable, you tilted your head just enough to shoot her an angry glance and snapped: “Why are you here?”

Wilhemina tapped her cane threateningly on the floor. That didn’t faze you. Not anymore.

“I’m here,” she said in that low, slow voice she always used when she was mad, “as your superior and as Kineros Robotics’ HR manager, to remind you that you have a job and that you are expected to actually show up at your workplace.”

Was she getting enough sleep? Only now did you realize that she was leaning on her cane a bit more heavily than usual. Was her back hurting her? Did she even take her pain medicine? On several occasions before she had refused to, as a form of punishment against her disability. You had had to coax and beg for her to finally agree to swallow the pill.  

“I expect you to answer me when I talk to you.” Wilhemina’s voice, sharp and angry, brought you back from your thoughts. You glanced up at her again.

“Yes, Ms Venable.”

“If you do not go back to work tomorrow I will have to dismiss you.”

“Yes, Ms Venable.”

“Your unjustified absence is quite simply intolerable.”

“Yes, Ms Venable,” you repeated.

Another pause. You had no idea what you were feeling anymore. Anger and irritation had subsided and been replaced by a sort of numbness that still had an aftertaste of want. You stared at the book, your fingers still rubbing circles on your knee as you listened to the ticking of the clock in the corridor.

Wilhemina spoke, and this time her voice wavered on the last word. “When are you coming back?”

She meant to work, of course. You lifted your head, met her eyes. She meant come home.

“I’m not coming back,” you answered, keeping your voice casual to hide the fact that your heart was breaking yet again, small pieces drifting away and colliding with each other.

“What do you want me to do?” Wilhemina cried, her eyes widening in exasperation. “Crawl at your feet and beg for mercy?”

She barely ever raised her voice. Her anger and contempt were always expressed in a dangerously slow and low tone. A high, raised voice meant she felt cornered. It meant her self-control was slipping away. It meant her facade was breaking.

You leaned towards her in your seat, hope seeping in your veins.

“How about you start by apologizing to Pat?” you said, as casually as before.

“Who’s Pat?”

“My co-worker and friend you so kindly slapped in the face last week. And to Eva, whose fingers you threatened to clip off one by one because she had the audacity to touch my hand. And to Maggie. You called her such terrible names when all she did was being there for me. Do you see the problem, Mina?”

Your little speech had made you angry again, bad memories flooding your brain, so it was a surprise when her nickname slipped out of your mouth. It seemed to quiet her for a second. Her shoulders relaxed. She even took a tentative step towards you. But then her face hardened again, and when she spoke her voice was back under control.

“I will do no such thing,” she snapped, tapping her cane on the floor. “All those idiots you mentioned had it coming.”

You sighed and slumped back into your seat. You knew what she was doing. Suddenly you were brought back to the first time she had allowed herself to be vulnerable in front of you. It had been one evening in the second week of your relationship. She had had a bad day, and her back was hurting her, and the only way she had found to express that – the only way she had known how – had been by snapping at you for overcooking the pasta. You had been about to snap back, when an apology had slipped out of her. Soft and unexpected. You had fallen silent in surprise. Her hands had started to fidget, and she had looked angry with herself, couldn’t meet your eyes, couldn’t find anything more to say, couldn’t stop fidgeting. So you had hugged her, run her a bath, made love to her, brushed her hair until most of the tension had left her body.

Snapping was her way of protecting herself, you knew that. But still – it hurt, and you had had enough.

“Well then, please, leave,” you mumbled, closing your eyes and raising one hand to pinch the bridge of your nose.

“So you can be in the delightful company of Maggie the Cat?” she snapped.

“Oh for God’s sake, Wilhemina,” you sighed, but she didn’t seem to hear you.

“Sweet, sweet Margaret,” she sneered, taking one more step towards you, her hands shaking. “With her sweet maiden face and her cheerful disposition. So charming, so lovely. She’s part of that disgusting group of radiant fools who will lead the world to its demise with their shallowness and their stupidity.”

You jumped to your feet. “Maggie is my friend,” you growled, planting yourself a few inches from her, your whole body hot with anger. “If you loved me as you claim you do, if you had an ounce of respect for me, you wouldn’t say such things about her!”

Something on her face changed at your words. You couldn’t tell what exactly, but a feeling of dread suddenly came over you.

Wilhemina tapped her cane on the floor, raised her chin and hissed, “Maybe I don’t. Love you, at all. Maybe I only used you for company.”

You took a step back, reeling as her words echoed in your head. You knew she was lying. What you two had shared had been too strong to be fake. She had trusted you with things and parts of herself she had never told or shown anyone before. She had let you love her and trusted you would not hurt her.

In a better world you would have been able to control your anger. You would have taken a few deep breaths to calm yourself and put your hands on Wilhemina’s shoulders and told her for the hundredth time what she obviously still needed to hear – that in your heart, Maggie did not hold a candle to her. That Maggie was your friend and you loved her, but not the way you loved Wilhemina. That you would go to Hell for her and beat Lucifer’s ass if it meant keeping her safe.

But this was the real world, where battered souls keep hurting each other. Anger burnt in you like a fire and filled your brain with smoke until you could no longer think. Only fight back.  

“Maybe I did, too,” you snarled.

You saw her hesitate. You saw her snarky retort die on her lips as she took in your words. And for a moment it felt great. To know you could still affect her, still peel off her layers and press the pads of your fingers on bare skin. But you had only ever stroked before; never scratched.

The tap of her cane on the floor surprised you, for it sounded weaker than usual. It did not bounce off the walls but fell at her feet like a weak preemie and died.

“If you do not show up tomorrow at 8 then don’t bother coming back at all,” Wilhemina commanded. “Kineros will do just fine without you.”

She was staring at something above your left shoulder, and she was breathing too fast, as if she were trying very hard not to cry. When she felt your gaze on her face she briefly shifted her eyes to yours. She blinked, and a tear rolled down her cheek.

“Mina,” you started, taking a step towards her. She raised one hand to stop you.

“That will be all,” she said, and wiped the tear away.

You let her turn on her heel, walk down the corridor and close the front door behind her. You stood as if petrified in the middle of Maggie’s living room, until something in you broke. You grabbed the book on the coffee table, hurled it at the wall, and screamed.

When Maggie came home that evening, she walked into your room with a moody, “What happened to Virginia Woolf?” She waved the battered book at you until you turned and she saw your face.

“Oh, babydoll, what’s wrong?”

She held you as you sobbed and wailed. She stroked your hair and whispered sweet-nothings to calm you down. It only made you cry harder, for it reminded you of all the times Wilhemina had comforted you. How she, too, had held you close and tried to find the right words to stop your tears. But Maggie was taller and stouter. Her body did not fit yours as Wilhemina’s did. When you eventually took a long breath in through your nose, her perfume smelt wrong. Too sweet, too floral.

You didn’t show up at 8 at Kineros the day after. It had been hard to care before, now it was simply impossible. You stayed in bed, wishing you could disappear into the sheets. You ignored Maggie’s encouragements and reproaches. You didn’t care.

Maggie brought you water and food, which you nibbled at mechanically. Time passed. You dozed often, but never slept.

Time kept on passing. You waited. You weren’t quite sure for what.

On the third day your phone rang. You reached out for it, and accepted the call without looking at the screen.

“Hello?” you mumbled, your voice raspy from disuse.

“Oh, Y/N?” said a familiar voice. “I thought you were dead.”

“Jeff.” You closed your eyes. “Look,” you started, “I know I haven’t – “

“What have you done to Venable?” Jeff cut you off.

Your eyes opened. “What do you mean?” you asked, your grip on your phone tightening.

“She hasn’t shown up for the past three days.” There was a loud noise at the other end of the line, then Jeff’s voice again. “Last week she was even more bitchy than usual, and now she’s gone. I don’t know where the file I need is, I missed all of my appointments and what’s worse, we’ve run out of coke. I can’t be a genius if I’m not high. Y/N?”

You barely heard him call your name. You could barely breathe from fear.

“Y/N, you still here?”

“Yeah, I –“ You swallowed around the lump in your throat.“Are you sure she’s not at Kineros?”

“I’m at Kineros, Y/N, and Venable isn’t,” Jeff answered, annoyed. “Look, I don’t know what your problem is, but I won’t let your sapphic affairs ruin my company.”

“I – “You stood up on shaky legs. You had to move, you had to do something to keep the panic at bay. It wasn’t like Wilhemina to miss work. She’d rather die than shun her responsibilities. And three days in a row? Something must have happened to her. Your brain started making up all kinds of dreadful scenarios in which she had been hurt, hit by a car, abducted, in which she had locked herself up in her room without food or water, jumped from a bridge, bought a plane ticket to some faraway country where you would never find her.

“Y/N?” came Jeff’s voice, interrupting the mad race of your thoughts.

“Yes, I – “You forced yourself to take a deep breath. “Venable isn’t my responsibility,” you heard yourself say.

“Look, Y/N,” Jeff retorted, his voice growing angry. “You’re expendable, Venable is not. We need her. I don’t care what you do, but you better make sure she comes back tomorrow.” And with that he hung up.

For a few seconds you stood petrified with your phone still pressed against your ear. And then you jumped into action. You dressed, grabbed your handbag, flew down the stairs and in your haste nearly collided with the door of your car. You forced yourself to drive under the speed limit on your way to your house. Dying wouldn’t help.

Part of you realized that it felt good. The life pumping into your veins again. You felt like you had finally woken up.

You parked on the sidewalk in front of your house, too impatient to maneuver your car up the driveway. You ran to the door and knocked on it. You closed your eyes as you waited, panting. You sent a prayer to whomever you could think of – please let her be okay. You didn’t care how mad you were with her anymore. Just, let her be okay.

The door opened. You looked up.

Wilhemina was wearing an old, faded lilac sweater and a pair of black cotton shorts. Her hair was down. She had no make-up on. When her eyes met yours, her face didn’t harden or fall or change at all; she merely held your gaze, as if she were too tired or too numb to react.

“You’re here,” you breathed out in relief. You could have burst into tears of joy at the sight of her alive and safe.

“I only own one house,” she said dully.

“Right, of course, I know.” You scratched your head nervously. “Er, Jeff called. He’s, er, worried about you.”

Wilhemina watched you unblinkingly. You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. It was all you could do to stop yourself from collapsing into her arms and kiss her senseless.

“He said you haven’t been to work for three days,” you tried.

“And why,” she said, “do you care?” There was no trace of animosity in her voice. In fact, there was nothing at all. No emotion. No life.

“He asked me to come check on you.”

Shit. You could have slapped yourself. Wilhemina’s face did harden, then, and she made as if to close the door, but before she had time to you cried out: “No, wait, that came out wrong. Please.” You held up a hand. Wilhemina waited. “He told me you hadn’t shown up in days, and I got worried. That’s why I came. Not because he asked me to.”

She watched you for a few seconds more, then lowered her gaze. Her left hand came up to fidget with the hem of her shorts. She looked so small in those clothes, so young and so fragile. Tears stung your eyes. You blinked them back.

“Can I come in?” you tried.

Her eyes met yours. Please, you begged her in your head. Please, let me in. Please, give us this chance to make it right. Your heart was beating so fast it was starting to hurt.

Eternity passed before she finally – oh what bliss! – stepped aside to let you in. You brushed past her, got a whiff of her perfume mixed with the faint smell of sweat. She ran a hand through her hair nervously, leaning slightly away from you to close the door.

The house was exactly as you had left it, and yet it looked so different. Quieter, somehow, and a bit battered, as if it had just come back from the battlefield to rest and mourn its departed friends. Your footsteps echoed loudly down the corridor as you walked to the living room. You took off your shoes and shoved them in a corner. To make a point. That you didn’t mean to leave until you had talked things through.

Wilhemina stopped in the doorway and waited.

“Um, thank you,” you mumbled. “For letting me in.” As if it weren’t your house, too. But that wasn’t the point.

Wilhemina nodded. Silence fell. You looked around the room nervously, at a loss for words.

“Are you okay?” you finally blurted out. Wilhemina glared at you. “Right. Sorry, stupid question.” You swallowed hard. “Have you, um, have you eaten? I could make something.”

“Who am I to stop you?” Wilhemina answered flatly. “We both know how you need to keep yourself busy when you’re nervous.”

“It’s not about me,” you countered. “I was wondering when you last ate, that’s all.”

She held your gaze for a few more seconds, then proceeded to walk around the room to rearrange things – a candle on a shelf, the cushions on the couch, anything. You watched her, noticed the slight shaking of her hand, how tightly she was gripping her cane. Her hair fell over her eyes as she leaned forward. She briskly pushed it back.

When there was nothing left for her to tidy, she sat on the couch and opened a book.

You stared at her profile, your hands twitching at your sides. Wanting nothing more than to reach out. Sit by her side. Hold her close. Sink into her warmth.

You cleared your throat, and went into the kitchen.

It did help, having something to do with your hands. It relieved some of the ache in your chest. You were too preoccupied to be creative, so you settled on frozen Yangzhou fried rice and an endive salad. Substantial, but easy to eat. In case she was feeling as nauseous as you were.  

You were cutting the endives when you heard Wilhemina call from the other room. “I’m going to take a shower.”

“Alright,” you called back, trying to catch a glimpse of her through the door. “It’ll be ready in twenty minutes.”

You listened to the sound of running water as the rice thawed out. Thought of the right words to say. Part of you wanted to forgive her without further ado and pretend nothing had happened. But that would only buy you more time. Until the next insult, the next fight. Anger swelled in you like a wave as you remembered Pat’s perplexed face, lifting a hand to his cheek where Wilhemina had hit him. His own outburst, “What the hell is wrong with her?!”, Wilhemina’s cold, unreadable expression. The fear in her voice when you had slammed the door behind you.

You closed your eyes and sighed. The only way you could think of to make things right was to have Wilhemina truly, fully open up to you. Convince her that sharing her fears with you would be better than lashing out on other people. Make her realize, and trust, that there was nothing you wanted in the world more than a future with her.

You turned off the heat under the rice and sat at the table as you waited for Wilhemina. Half an hour had passed since she had disappeared in the bathroom. She loved to take long showers, but she hated being late even more. You had told her she had twenty minutes; any other day, she would have made sure to be ready in fifteen.

You waited ten more minutes before you started to get truly worried. You walked to the foot of the stairs and called out her name. There was no answer. You called out again, louder. Silence mocked you.

You hurried up the stairs, your heart in your throat, and knocked on the bathroom door. “Mina? Are you alright?”

And still there was no answer. And you were starting to grow angry again, at her silence, at her shunning you, when you heard it. Faint and muffled, but unmistakable. A sob.

You opened the door and rushed into the room.

Wilhemina was sitting on the floor with her back against the tub and her face hidden in her hands. Her wet hair was dripping on her lap, soaking the purple bathrobe she was wearing. She must have dropped her cane, for it lay on the floor under the sink a few feet from her.  

You rushed up to her and dropped on your knees.

“Baby,” you called, reaching for one of her wrists, “what happened? Are you hurt?”

You tried to gently pry her hands away to get a look at her face, but she didn’t let you. If anything, she stiffened and buried her face deeper in her hands.

Her shoulders shook as she tried to stifle the low, painful sobs that wracked her frail body. You gently brushed her hair back as you waited for her to calm down, not daring to wrap your arms around her, but dying to offer her comfort.

Eventually her sobs turned into sniffles and soft hiccups, and you asked her again what had happened.

“I dropped my cane,” came her answer, weak and muffled. “As I was getting out of the tub.” A shudder ran through her.

“I’m sorry,” she went on. “This…” She lifted one of her hands, then, to gesture at her body, and you caught a glimpse of her face, red and coated with tears. “You deserve so much better than this. Please, go back to Maggie.”

You blinked at her words, at the pain and anguish they expressed. How had it come so far? How blind had you been? Not to realize how insecure she was, how convinced she was she could never be enough. To the point that she had agreed with herself to let you go.  

You shook your head sadly. “But Maggie’s not the one I want.”

She let out a small, pitiful noise at that, and dissolved into tears again. This time, you didn’t think. You scooted over and gathered her into your arms. She sank into you, her hands coming down to clutch your shirt, her face pressing against your chest. There was no restraint anymore. No trying to stifle her sobs or hold back her tears. She let it all out, sobs shaking her body as she sank deeper and deeper into you, as if she were desperate to make one, to leave herself behind and become part of you.  

Her sobs grew louder, and she seemed to have lost all control on her breathing, a gasp in and out and out again without inhaling. She was working herself up in quite a state, so you did the only thing you could think of to help her calm down. You tipped her head up. Captured her lips with yours.

Her mouth was wet and hot and salty, but you didn’t care. You wanted so much more of it. It tasted like home, and love, and safety. You had missed it so much, kissing her, feeling her. Your hands came up to cup her face, fingers pressing on her drenched cheeks as you pulled her closer, humming softy into the kiss.

It did quiet her. Her breath hitched, her shoulders tensed, but then she was kissing you back fervently, as if her life depended on it. Maybe it did. You didn’t know anymore. You were only aware of the sweet warmth of relief coursing through your veins and making your head spin. And of something else, something that ached and throbbed – want. It frightened you, this level of want. Your whole body was burning and tingling with it. It wasn’t so much lust as merely wanting to hold her. To feel her again. Love her freely and endlessly.

Again it hit you how stupid you had been to think you could ever live without her.

When you broke the kiss for air, she let out a whine and immediately chased after you. She was still crying, hiccups rippling into your mouth, drenched skin rubbing against yours. She circled her arms around your neck and bit down on your lower lip, hard, as if to mark you hers. A vampire bite, to contaminate your blood with hers and make sure you and she were the same.

After a while she broke the kiss and slumped into you. She was practically sitting on you now, arms tight around your neck, face buried in your chest, hip digging into your lap. You ran a hand through her hair as you rubbed circles on her back, humming a soft lullaby as a few last tremors shook her body.

It had started to rain outside. You suddenly became aware of the patter on the roof. You leaned your head on top of Wilhemina’s and closed your eyes.

“I didn’t mean it, you know,” came her voice, raspy but soft. “What I said the other day. I do love you.”

You hummed, dropped a kiss on her hair. “I know.” A pause. “I love you, too. Of course I love you.”

She let out a shaky breath, then sat up. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying. You leaned in to kiss her burning eyelids. You kissed her forehead, a magic kiss, to soothe the throbbing in her head.  

She met your gaze, bit her lip. You gave her a smile.

“Come on, get up,” you urged.

You waited for her in the living room as she cleaned her face, dried her hair and dressed. She put on the pajama set she always wore when she wasn’t feeling confident: baggy pants and a shirt that was too big for her. It didn’t cling to her body. It hid her body completely from view.  

You managed to convince her to eat some of the rice. You ate in silence, watching her as she chewed and swallowed. She was sitting perfectly straight in her chair, head held high, eyes on her plate. When she was done, she delicately dabbed her mouth with her napkin, which she then folded on the table.

You waited. She stared at her empty plate for a moment, and then frowned.

“Look,” she finally said, “this is hard for me. I don’t know where to start.”

You nodded. “I know. That’s alright. Take your time.”

“I don’t usually… talk – “Her voice faltered. She glanced up at you, eyes dark and still rimmed red. You smiled in encouragement.

“Your friends,” she went on. Paused. As no other words came out, you got up from your seat, kneeled in front of her, and reached for one of her hands.

“I don’t hate them,” she said very quietly, staring down at her plate.

You couldn’t help but scoff. “You have a very peculiar way of showing it.”

Her lower lip quivered and her brow pushed up as if she were about to start crying again. You gave her hand a squeeze.

“Hey, none of that. Talk to me. What really bothers you about my friends?”

She squeezed her eyes shut, swallowed hard. You waited. When she opened her eyes again, they were shining with tears.

“I – “She shook her head, let out a sad laugh. “I don’t – “Her voice cracked. Her eyes met yours. “Please don’t – “

“It’s okay,” you whispered, bringing your free hand up to cup her cheek. ”I’m staying. I’m listening.”

A tear dropped from her eye, crashed between your thumb and index; and then she inhaled shakily and it all came out of her at once, words stumbling out like a panicked mob out of a room on fire.

“I’m afraid you’ll find someone better than me. All those kind, healthy people, I’m afraid you’ll truly see them one day and realize you could have so much better, so much more.” A breath out, as her face crumpled. “I don’t – I can’t – “A sob pushed out of her throat, and her breath hitched, and when she tried to inhale again she let out a noise as if she were choking. “I don’t – I don’t think I can ever be – be enough for –”

“Okay, you’re okay,” you cooed as her breathing grew frantic. “Mina, you’re okay.” She shook her head, her body slumping as fresh sobs tore their way out of her throat. “Hey,” you breathed, blinking back your own tears. You let go of her hand to cup her face.

Her cheeks were burning. You ran your thumbs over her cheekbones, catching her tears as they fell.

“Mina, I know you’re hurting,” you whispered. Your voice broke. You cleared your throat. “Baby, I want to be here for you.”

She nodded, hiccupping as she tried to wrestle her emotions back under control. One of her hands came up to wipe sloppily at her nose.

“Let’s move to the couch, ok?” you suggested. “Let’s get you comfortable.”

She didn’t let go of your hand on the very short way to the couch, her palm clammy against yours. She always did that, always had to be touching you: her ankle pressed against yours, her hand resting on your arm or on your waist, her shoulder brushing yours.

You sat down, and she hesitated before she snuggled up to you. She rested her head on your shoulder and reached for one of your hands in your lap.

There was a quiet moment, silence only broken by Wilhemina’s sniffles, and then you shook your head and teased, “What am I going to do with you?”

You felt her stiffen against you. “Because it’s such hard work and you never do a stroke of work,” she snapped.

“Mina,” you warned.

“Sorry,” she said quickly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

You dropped a kiss on her head. “Okay.”

You wrapped one arm around her shoulders and drew her closer. Automatically your hand started playing with her hair.

“You know,” you went on, “it’d have been easier if you had just told me how you felt instead of taking it out on my friends.”

“I know,” she whispered.

“I’ll tell you what we’ll do. From now on, you be honest with me. Whenever the bad thoughts come, whenever you feel like you could never be enough, you tell me. It doesn’t have to be with words, if that’s hard for you. We can decide on a code. Like this,” you poked her hip, and she jumped and let out a chuckle,” or this,” you leaned in, blew raspberries on her shoulder, “or this,” you stuck out your tongue and licked her cheek.

“You’re gross,” she laughed. She raised one hand to keep your face away from hers, but you dodged it and gently blew into her ear.  

“Y/N.” She had meant to sound firm, but laughter rang in her voice.

“I’m sorry, was that supposed to be a threat?” you teased.

“I think the real question is, what am I supposed to do with you.”

“Um.” You pretended to think that through.”Love me.” A kiss on her shoulder. “I think love me is good.”

She looked up at you with a wistful look in her eyes. Her hand came up to touch your cheek. She smiled, soft and tender and fond, the smile she only ever gave to you. “Love you is good,” she whispered.

Her eyes flicked down to your mouth. You leaned in to kiss her, pouring tenderness into her mouth. When you pulled away, she let out a soft sigh as if she were about to fall asleep.

She rested her head on your shoulder again and closed her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“It’s alright,” you whispered back.

It still rained outside. You listened to the patter on the roof. Leaned your head on top of Wilhemina’s.

She fit so snuggly against you. She made you feel entirely safe, entirely you. You drank from her warmth the solace you had not been able to find in the peach-scented sheets or in Maggie’s reassurances and embrace.

After a while, you felt her nudge her nose on your shoulder. She drew a shaky breath, and asked, “So you’re not leaving?”

Your heart clenched at the vulnerability and fear in her voice.

“Um, no,” you answered. “I’m giving you a second chance.” A kiss on her forehead. “How long I’ll stay is entirely up to you. And Mina, please believe me when I say I hope you’ll give me reasons to stay forever.”   ��

“I’m not sure I’ll be content with forever,” she said.

You rolled your eyes. “Of course you’re not.”

She shifted against you, moved her head to plant a lazy kiss on your neck, draped one arm loosely around you. Her hand slipped under your shirt and she dragged her nails on your skin, across your belly, down the curve of your waist.  

And then you felt it. A poke, on your left hip. Like a question.

You grinned. “Just like that, my love.”

[princessofcurses]

[2] Take it.

Part 1 Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader Written from the perspective of Sukuna content warning: out of character, curse words, cigarette smoking, mutilation (quick and heals right back), blood, oral (F receiving), virginity lost, squirting Word Count: 4.4k If you like it, please leave a like and/or reblog ♡

The next night, she was sitting on the goose feather stuffed futon I had gotten for her yesterday. She was reading a book about the Big Three Vengeful Spirits while one of my servants painted her toenails. She told me to pick a color, and I picked a dark red like the color of blood. I got a kick out of seeing my choice on her toes. I took a seat beside her.

“Maybe I should get a pedicure too.”

“Get a manicure while you’re at it.”

Wait, did she say that because I was fingering her last night? Ugh. My servant flinched after Y/N had talked back to me. They were shocked and had bowed and ran off as soon as they finished with her nails, hoping to evade punishment I would usually give to someone (and those around them) who disobeyed me. But they would have no effect on her. The little brat has returned. I remembered her face as she was cumming hard around my fingers yesterday. Can I have her back? We hadn’t talked about yesterday yet but now was a good time to.

“What’d you think about last night?”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb, Y/N.”

She gave me a coy smile and then stuck her tongue out at me. I wanted to grab her chin and kiss her. I wanted to do last night all over again. I wanted to finally put her in her place.

“It was okay.”

Okay? She fucking cried while cumming and it was just okay? She gives me a headache. I don’t know what to do with her.

“Why did you cry then?”

She brought her hand to her mouth and chuckled.

“I’m trying to figure that out too.”

She shrugged. I sighed deeply. I needed to solve her and unravel the mystery.

“For a moment, I felt like I was yours. And I didn’t like the feeling of upsetting who I belonged to.”

I felt a heat in my chest that traveled downward and made my stomach drop. Y/N actually felt true remorse for being a cocky brat, if only for a moment. I wanted to own her and call her mine. It did feel like she was mine when I touched her. I wanted to keep her by my side. I could pleasure her for as long as we live and I could train her to be my good girl too. I never thought to have a Queen, but she would be perfect.

“Don’t get the wrong idea. I came back to my senses after I finished cumming.”

The image I had of us together in my head shattered by her crass words. I’ve never struggled this much to get something I want. I couldn’t stand it. She knows what she’s doing to me. I’m sure she’s teasing me.

She pulled out a packet of cigarettes and I looked at it with disgust.

“You can’t smoke here.”

“Fine.”

I blinked and she had vanished. She wasn’t in the shrine anymore. I went outside looking for her. I followed the scent of smoke and found her standing upon the highest point of the building. She smoked her cigarette nonchalantly.

“You’re disrespecting my dwelling.”

“What? You said I couldn’t smoke in there so I went outside!”

I sighed out of exasperation and my palm met my face.

“You’re so frustrating.”

We stood in silence together. She took a long drag and closed her eyes.

“Well… it was one of the best fingerings I’ve ever gotten. Like top three!”

One of them? She’s trying to piss me off. But I wouldn’t doubt she’d bring up the ‘hundreds of women I’ve slept with’ comment if I said something.

“To be honest, I really wanted you last night. I was aching for something to fill me up. I called out for you in a moment of weakness but I decided to stick by my words.”

My head perked up in interest. So she does want me. That’s valuable information.

“I mean it though. I’m not going to have sex with you. When I lose it to another virgin, let’s talk.”

She laughed and was about to leap down. I grabbed her wrist to keep her with me for a moment. She froze as we made eye contact. She could see how serious I was about wanting her but after a few seconds, she disappeared back into the shrine. I hated how easy it was for her to brush me off and I was crushed I had no chance with her. I couldn’t let her get away. There’s no way I would ever meet another woman who can be my equal in battle and is able to resist me. There must be something I can say or do to show her that the past doesn’t matter, that I would make her my whole life right now.

After a few moments alone to strategize, I followed her back inside.

“Let me lay with you.”

She shook her head.

“There isn’t enough space for you.”

“Just move over. I bought this anyway.”

“You bought it for ME.”

She pouted but then scooted over. I spooned her and took in the pleasant fragrance of her hair. She seemed to be ignoring me, opting to pay attention to her phone instead. Whatever.

I slowly moved my hand to her thigh and touched her softly.

“What about foreplay?”

“What?”

There was annoyance in her voice. We both sat up to face each other.

“I mean, you’ve had it before so I’m not taking anything from you.”

She put her hand to her chin and looked up to help her think, though she already knew what she was going to say.

“I don’t want to.”

“Is it because of what happened in the past, Y/N? What does it matter now? That was all before I met you.”

She shrugged with an arrogant smile on her face, knowing she had the upper hand here.

“I told you of my conditions.”

I put my head in my hands out of frustration. This was the last thing I could think of trying.

“I’ll cut it off.”

She gasped with concern but then bellowed out a laugh.

“You would really do that just to have sex with me?”

“Huh? Uh…”

Fuck. I made it an option now. What did I just do? Is it really worth it? I started thinking about her small mouth around my cock and how I would have to do some extensive training to get it to fit down her throat. I wanted to practice however many times, and as long as it would take. Was this the only way? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. My thoughts were in a frenzy but I collected myself to say calmly.

“Yeah. I would.”

What the fuck. She has the most devious look on her face right now. She actually wants me to do it.

“I mean, you can use reverse cursed technique.”

The fucking brat. Her smug smile made me want to choke her out. I made a promise to myself that I would get her back for this if I get the chance to fuck her.

“It’s still going to hurt like hell. And be very disturbing.”

“I’m here for you.”

I won’t forget her mocking of me. She’ll get hers soon enough. I stood up and let my kimono drop to the floor. My dick was already hard and she eyed it through my briefs with an interested look on her face. She looked up at me and our eyes met. I swear I saw her subtly bite her lip. She then watched intently as I slowly took my briefs off, my cock popping right out of them. I’m sorry, buddy. We’ve been through it all together. This is fucking ridiculous.

“Can you promise me something, Y/N?”

She broke her concentration from my dick to reply to me.

“What is it?”

“Will you make me regret this?”

Her mischievous smile concerned me.

“No.”

That was sufficient for me. I leaned over to kiss her and our lips met. I didn’t expect her to be willing to but she wanted to comfort me. Her lips were soft and warm and they reminded me that what I was about to do would be worth it. Right? Why can’t we just fuck right now? Ugh. Let’s fucking get this over with. I used my cursed technique to cleanly cut it from the base. I dropped to my knees, using one of my hands to support me. The pain was intense and the sight of my dick falling to the floor made me want to throw up. Blood spurted everywhere and I was coughing up blood. Y/N stared in shock and amusement, like she couldn’t believe I had actually done it. I began to heal my dick and it grew back in several seconds. She covered her mouth and looked a bit disgusted but more intrigued.

“It’s done.”

“You’re crazy.”

“You really don’t know how much I want you.”

“Oh, please. It wouldn’t take you long to forget me.”

“How could I forget you after what I just did for you?”

She rolled her eyes with a smirk. I shook my head while I put my briefs and kimono back on. I brushed myself off and got down to lay my head in her lap. She petted my head while I was still recovering from the traumatic severing. She ran her fingers through my hair and lightly scratched my scalp with her nails. I couldn’t exactly say what I was feeling right now. It’s something I haven’t felt before.

“I don’t understand why you’re doing all of this for me.”

The snarky tone left Y/N’s voice and was replaced with a softer one for a bit. I looked up at her to meet her gaze. She brushed her hand across my cheek and then she traced the markings on my face with her index finger. Her touch was so soothing but it sent shivers through me at the same time.

“There isn’t another woman out there like you.”

She scoffed.

“How cliché.”

I sat up to face her.

“I mean it. I consider you my equal. There are very, very few people I can call my equal and I’ve killed most of them already. If I could kill you, I would’ve done so by now. But your technique neutralizes mine so I can’t. The next best thing is to make you mine. You’d be the perfect Queen for me.”

She stayed silent and we had a staring contest. She didn’t seem too impressed by my answer. I continued on.

“I could give you last night every night and much more. I’ll figure out exactly what you want. Mentally, physically, sexually, materially, everything."

She looked curious. I had to slowly chip away at her walls to bring them down. She is the strongest female Jujutsu sorcerer after all. She doesn’t need me but I could be everything she wants.

“Let me prove it to you.”

I outstretched my hand for her to hold. She hesitated but once she grabbed it, I kissed the back of her hand and I pulled her into me between my legs, with her back to my chest. I wrapped my arms around her and put my mouth to ear. I breathed lightly by her earlobe and whispered to her.

“I could be yours if you’ll be mine.”

My words sent a chill down her spine. I kissed her ear and gently took a fistful of her hair in my hand to tilt her head for easier access to her neck. I made sure not to be rough with her yet. I would ease her into it. I gave her soft kisses down her neck to her collarbone. She squirmed a bit, and she told me that she’s especially ticklish there. I followed the same trail with my tongue and she shivered.

“Do you want to know what else I can do with my tongue?”

Y/N nodded and I positioned myself in front of her. I spread her legs and went eye level with her cunt. I rubbed over her clit through her panties with my thumb, noticing how warm she was. I slipped her panties off and took a good look at her pussy. Beautiful. She had also waxed completely. I hadn’t noticed yesterday since I was only fingering her. Was she anticipating this moment? Has she been playing hard to get this entire time? Well, I’ve been waiting for this too, darling. She blushed and tried to cover her pussy with her hands.

“Don’t stare at it so much. It’s embarrassing.”

I smirked at her.

“Fully waxed, huh? And I bet you taste so good. Move your hands.”

As she exposed herself for me, I licked my lips and dove in. I gathered my saliva in my mouth and spat it right onto her clit for lubrication. Her face went red and she put her hands on her face out of self-consciousness. For a brat with a big mouth, her shyness right now surprised me. My tongue flicked up her clit a few times and a soft moan escaped her lips. I took the sound as an okay to go faster. I licked up and down at a steady pace. I brought my tongue down to her opening and I stuck my tongue in and out of her cunt. Her legs started to tremble.

As I focused my mouth on her clit, I moved up my hands under her dress to play with both of her nipples. She wriggled beneath me as I rubbed them between my fingers and she pushed herself closer to my mouth. I bet she could feel the smile I had on right now so I quickened the tempo. My tongue started at her opening and I licked slowly all the way to the top of her clit and then I changed to a quick up and down motion. I picked up the subtle movement of her cunt clenching into itself, signaling that it was time to add my fingers into it. I teased her orifice where her arousal was collecting. I lightly went over it without entering her. I made eye contact with her and she covered her face again.

“What happened, princess? Do you want me to stop?”

“No.. I want more, please.”

She spoke meekly. The smile I wore had a bit of conceit behind it. I had gotten her so vulnerable.

“Because you asked so sweetly.”

I inserted my middle finger slowly and she immediately tightened around it. I groaned feeling how tight she was. Fuck.

“That’s too tempting.”

I pulled the skin of her mound up to expose her clit completely. It had grown swollen and was obviously begging for attention. I wasted no time continuing my rapid licking. My up and down motion turned into circles which turned into licking one spot on her clit in particular and then moving to another spot, and remembering which places were her favorite. Throughout this all, I fingered her excruciatingly slow.

“I think you’re ready for another finger. Is that okay?”

“Yes, Sukuna!”

She had answered me just as I finished my sentence. I grinned at her maliciously. I finally had her exactly where I wanted. I added my ring finger inside of her and the two fingers alone filled her up. Her pussy tightened around my fingers repeatedly. I was getting restless. It wouldn’t be much longer until I can stretch her out with my cock. I fingered her slowly at first, but then I hooked my fingers upward and pressed that perfect spot at a leisurely pace. This elicited a loud moan from her and she pulled at my hair.

With my come hither motion with my fingers and my tongue licking away at her clit, her moans filled almost every other second. I brought my lips to her clit and sucked lightly. I then kissed up and down her folds before putting work on her clit with my tongue again. Her legs shook uncontrollably.

“Hold your legs back for me.”

She held her legs back by her thighs so I had even easier access to her. I sneered at her.

“You’ll do whatever I say?”

She nodded timidly. My goal was to pleasure her so much that she submits to me. It was working.

“I’m training you well, aren’t I? Look at me.”

She hesitated, probably embarrassed at what was happening down here. She made eye contact with me and I had on a devious smile while I licked her clit. She ran her fingers through my hair, feeling my undercut and then tugging at the top. She looked down at my tongue swiftly licking at her clit and my fingers entering and exiting over and over again. She was mesmerized. As we stared into each other’s eyes, I knew the sexual gratification was overwhelming for her. She felt filthy witnessing what I was doing to her and the pleasure on her facial expression made it obvious that she loved it.

“Sukuna, I want to cum..”

I chuckled haughtily.

“Go ahead. I give you permission to.”

Our eyes were locked on each other. She wanted to hold back and last a bit longer to savor the moment for just a few more seconds but she was at her limit.

“Right there!”

She cried out. I didn’t waste any time in giving her exactly what she wanted. She winced and closed her eyes shut, preparing for the orgasm she was about to have. I lightly slapped her on her cheek to make her regain focus.

“Fucking look at me.”

She opened her eyes to see mine glowing red. She had on that worried face she makes when she’s about to cum. The feeling crept up on her and then it hit her harshly. She gasped hard and then she began to gush. Her moans were still loud even though she was breathless and convulsing. I raised my head and began to chuckle again. My face was drenched in her juices. I slapped her cunt a few times, eliciting a yelp-like moan from her.

“Oh? Has anyone ever made you squirt before?”

She panted for air and shook her head. I went face level with her and pet her head with a warm smile.

“Good.”

I felt the heat radiating from her cunt. She was ready.

“So what should we do now?

“I want more..”

She spoke quietly and apprehensively.

“What? I couldn’t hear you. I won’t ask you to speak up again.”

My forbidding facial expression took hold of her, telling her to do as I say, now.

“I want more, Sukuna! Please give me more!”

“What do you want exactly?”

“I want.. your cock!”

I looked at her with a wicked smile that betrays all purity. I quickly undressed and she bit her finger at the sight of my dick. She was still holding her legs back for me and I grasped my cock and lined it up with her entrance. I gave her a couple of slaps to her cunt with it and then I rubbed it over her clit. She took in a short and deep breath, feeling some of its thickness and weight but before I entered, I leaned in close to her ear to tell her something.

“Your innocence is mine.”

Y/N’s expression had a bit of fear in it but she had no objections. With that little warning, I thrust myself fully into her, burying myself in her soaking wet cunt. She cried out in pleasure and in pain.

“Good girl.”

I said arrogantly as I slid my cock out slowly just before the exit, then thrusting back into her at the same agonizing pace, getting deep into her and feeling her cervix on the head of my cock. She was unbelievably tight. Her breath was labored and she let out her sultry moan that I loved hearing, all the while we made intense eye contact. Her eyes were wide with lust, her mouth was open, and her face in pleasure from me filling her up was exactly what I’ve been waiting to see. I stuck two of my fingers in her mouth and she immediately began swirling her tongue around them and sucking on them.

“You know, I don’t think I would’ve been able to tell that you were a virgin if you didn’t tell me. You’re so willing and I can tell your tongue is experienced.”

Her face went ruddy and she hid it with her palms. I moved her hands out of the way and gripped her neck.

“No need to be embarrassed about giving yourself up to me.”

I snickered and quickened my pace inside of her, the loudness of her moans egging me on. I tightened my grip around her throat and felt her clench hard around my cock, not wanting to let go. She put her hands on my wrist to hold onto. I groaned at how tight she was. At first, I thought for a second that I wouldn’t be able to fit inside of her but she’s such a good girl. She was taking it with no complaint even though I knew she was feeling some pain from a feeling she’s never felt before inside of her, stretching her walls and bumping into her cervix again and again.

“I could only dream about how good you would feel but it’s better than I could ever imagine. I want this every day.”

I’m not sure if she heard me over her moans. I might have to remind her later. I fucked her hard and fast, rolling my hips while thrusting into her. Her moans sounded like purrs. My little kitten. She meowed at me.

“Please, Suku. More..”

“I know, princess. Don’t rush me.”

I found her nickname for me very adorable. I smiled at her sinisterly and then I licked my thumb to lubricate it. It then found its way to her clit. I rubbed it up and down, matching the pace of my thrusts. She cried out her moans and her legs began to shake violently. I put them over my shoulders to stabilize her a bit more and my cock got even deeper inside of her. She winced and I pressed my lips against hers. The kiss was heated and passionate, our tongues meeting over and over. She moaned into my mouth and I couldn’t help but groan back.

I pulled out abruptly. She gasped and spoke with urgency to me.

“Don’t stop, please!”

“Let’s switch positions.”

She nodded obediently and I sat down.

“Sit on my cock.”

She quickly got up but took her time sitting on my dick, gradually taking the entire length inside of her. The warmness slowly enveloped my cock and I breathed out heavily. She let out a long moan as she took all of me inside of her. I began thrusting up to fuck her. She began to whine about how good my cock was and I made a mental note that she really loves this position. I firmly took a fistful of her hair and leaned her head back, leaving love bites on her neck that began to turn patches of her skin red and purple. I was marking her as mine.

Y/N could hardly speak. Besides moaning, she said my name over and over again, sprinkled with pleases and mores, and yelling out curse words. I loved how submissive she became. The more I pleasured her, the more she let me do whatever I wanted to her. All the trouble she put me through was worth it. I licked my index and middle finger and used my spit as lube to rub her clit. Her moans turned into wails and she buried her face in my shoulder.

“It’s too good, Suku.. I’m close..”

I composed myself to speak normally to her.

“Yeah? Are you going to cum on my cock?”

The filthy words I spoke to her forced her to orgasm. She cried out for me and wrapped her arms around my neck. She leaned her head back and her face in pleasure made me want to cum right at this second. I continued thrusting in her while rubbing her clit, not giving her a break even though she had just climaxed. She whimpered, feeling overstimulated.

“Just a little more, Y/N.”

I kissed her deeply and held her shaking body, slowly and almost romantically fucking her.

“Where do you want my cum?”

Her eyes went wide. She thought for a few seconds. Her already flushed face went even redder.

“What is it, princess? You can tell me anything.”

I was about to lose it. She opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t get the words out. She was a bit too occupied with the pleasure I was giving her. I tapped her cheek a few times to bring her back down to earth. I spoke with a bit of a harsher tone.

“Spit it out, brat.”

She was gathering up courage to tell me where she wanted it. A pressure was building up in her chest, but then she just shouted it out.

“I want your cum inside of me! Please, Suku! Please!”

Her needy whines pulled the rug from under me. I growled as I wrapped my arms around her and held her tightly as my cock twitched, coating her walls with my cum. My breathing was labored and my body spazzed out a bit. Trying to catch my breath, we stayed in this position for a while. I held her and pet the back of her head. She’s too good.

“So you can be a good girl. I just have to tame the little brat first.”

“Hmph.”

She pouted at first but then she smiled shyly and stole a quick kiss from me. She stood up and my cum leaked out of her cunt and started running down the inside of her thighs. I wiped some off with my fingers and I stood up and put them into her mouth. She happily licked it up and closed her eyes as if she had tasted something delectable. I towered over her and I held her closely to me, her face buried in my chest. I pulled away a bit and took hold of her chin to tilt it towards me.

“Did you like that, princess?”

Her next words were spoken with a snicker.

“It was okay.”

I smiled at her menacingly.

“Don’t lie to me, darling. I hope you know this is only the beginning. You’re mine now.”

MIGRATING TO A NEW BLOG @baji-san

[sneezefiction]

embrace

Tsukishima x Reader - Scenario 

@belli-jelly’s event request: “#7 with Tsukki ❤️ thank youu!”

a/n: “embrace” with Tsukishima is such a soft idea. he just needs a hug and to feel loved n supported n stuff, ya know? i hope u enjoy!! <333

warnings: slight language, angst (but barely?)

wc: 1990

---

Tsukishima makes his ways through the apartment door, kicking off his shoes a little more forcefully than usual. The thunk of the soles on the tile embodies whatever vexation he’d been simmering in for the duration of the day. A weak, frustration-fueled sigh exits his body.

From the kitchen, you can already tell that something is off. He hasn’t called out to you with his usual, “Hey stupid, I’m home.” You hadn’t even received his typical text telling you he was leaving the gym. The tense silence seeps into the airspace as he makes his way toward you, Tsukki’s feet dragging with every step.

As he turns corner, you’re greeted by features taut with fatigue. It’s as though he’d been running on empty all day, barely making it home with only fumes of energy leftover.

Tsukki’s eyes were undoubtedly strained. The white, intense light of the gym combined with deep concentration kept him on high-alert with eyes wide open at all times.

His shoulders maintained a somewhat slumped position, losing an inch or two of height in the process. The mental weight of handling everything on his own had finally reached him physically.

This hadn’t been a good day, per se.

And if Tsukki had the energy to speak, he would probably tell you how much he would rather be in a month-long coma than experience that level of misery again.

But the hushed air remains and a bizarre staring contest takes place between you two instead of passing words. It’s hard to speak when you know that, deep down, words could never do his terrible days any justice. That even a thoughtful sentence or a well-intended comment would simply drown under Tsukki’s sea of thought, never resurfacing or coming up for air to be heard or understood.

He’s too exhausted to process even the shortest of loving dialogues. And you can tell.

So you sift through other possibilities.

Ways to calm him. To remind him that you care and want to look after him.

Should you make him dinner? He’s probably already eaten. Watch a movie together? No, the light would bother his tired eyes even more. Just go to bed? He would only continue to stir through his disappointments and be kept up by the throbbing of soreness in his legs.

As your eyes trickle down the length of his body, which is now leaning on the countertop as he takes a long sip out of his water bottle, you come to one final alternative…

But it’s always a bit of a gamble. A slight risk.

To touch or not to touch.

Would he lean into it like a self-satisfied, curious cat, tilting his lean body into your affectionate antics? Or would his brittle, biting character and miserable mood cause himself to crumble and fall away from the warmth and comfort of your smaller arms?

On one hand, you might experience your beloved Tsukishima’s gentler side. The one that held you as though he were a mama bird wrapping her wide-spanned wings around your precious form. Instinctively protective. A second-natured response to the way you circled your arms around his torso, tugging him into your field, requesting closeness and vulnerability. It could potentially get his mind off of the day and focus him on the here and now.

But on the other hand, Tsukki had a track record of off days. Jumping away from the soft glide of the pads of your fingertips. On those days, your embrace seemed to resemble that of a thorny, roseless bush to the wavy-haired blonde. The chance of him tugging away, leaving you drained and drooping, was higher than you had ever wanted to bet on. The possibility of him ending up at the opposite side of the bed seemed to increase after experiences like these.

And to be honest, you could never be sure if the touch-deterring wall he built up was to protect himself or you. Yet you always try to find ways to chip away at his salty, skeptical barrier without overstepping any fragile, unspoken boundaries.

It’s a simple concept. However, avoiding his sensitivities is an endless dance and is much harder than it may look. Especially at the end of a long day of pro-league practice, where sweat, sulking, and inferiority complexes don’t usually mix well.

But this was the only viable option left, so you get over your own worries and approach Tsukishima’s weary form. You stop just a few inches before him, his eyes dropping to meet yours. He was even more beaten down up close. The defeated expression he carried in tandem with his worn-out demeanor made you physically ache for him. 

“Tsukki… you’re not lookin’ too hot right now.” You let out a breathy laugh, slowly lifting yourself onto your tiptoes to brush a hand through his messy hair, testing the waters.

He doesn’t flinch away from your movements, so you sink back down onto the soles of your feet, letting your hand run down the side of his face.

“No shit, Sherlock. I don’t exactly feel great either.” He shoots back, but there’s a somber, troubled tinge.

Tsukki inches toward you, looking away as he tilts the side of his head into the palm of your hand. Your fingers cup his cheek.

Everyone knew how Tsukki acted when he was annoyed or angry. Snappy, sarcastic comments would be strewn in an almost poetic manner, kindly crushing those under his scrutiny. Many had seen Tsukishima after a merciless game, beaten and worn out. He would still have a muted fire behind his efforts and would carry himself with dignity, even if he didn’t feel confidence rise inside of him.

But gloominess? It doesn’t suit him. Not now, not ever.

And currently, he’s emanating a dreary, depressing sadness, like being caught in a rainstorm without an umbrella to shield you. It’s helpless and uncontrollable. Utterly humiliating.

You can practically feel the strain of the day radiating off of him. Tsukki had a tendency to wither slowly and cautiously. Not allowing anyone to watch as his snarky comments fizzled out and his sharp gaze gradually dull. By the look in his golden eyes, it was obvious that something in him had already snapped like an old tree branch. Battered and bruised by storm after brutal summer storm, finally shattering under the repetitive pressures of failure and imposter syndrome.

In the past, he had let apathy take over in order to not burden you. Withholding affection, thinking it would keep you safe from his sinking atmosphere when in reality he wished to drink in your tenderness. To fall under your grasp, sinking his head under your chin and lay across your chest.

But maybe it was all too much.

Too much to hold in. To carry alone.

“Kei…” At the use of his first name, he physically softens. Drawing his arms around your middle and clasping his hands behind your back, he gently rests his chin on your head.

“You can always lean on me.” You whisper into the fabric of his shirt.

Your words carry a deeper semblance. That you really are here for him. Physically, mentally, and emotionally ready to lift him up.

You picked a good time for physical touch because he only pulls you in tighter.

He’s pretty warm and smells like sweat mixed with deodorant and his cedar-scented shampoo. You grasp the cloth and squeeze him into you, making sure to keep him steady and balanced. His breathing falls into a gentle rhythm, almost as though he were falling asleep standing up.

“If you weren’t so lanky I would pick you up, but you’re a damn tree.” You sigh, poking fun at him.

The touches were cathartic. Healing. Authentic. Your lighthearted comments kept things comfortable, hindering him from drawing away due to feelings of unworthiness or self-consciousness.

“Wow, okay, bold words for someone who can hardly seem to pick up a bag of flour. You couldn’t hold me even if you were my height.” He snickers, tension releasing and adrenaline wearing off from the high-energy day.

You shift to look up at Tsukki, your chin gently pressing into his chest. He’s already staring down at you. You can’t help that a blush works its way up your neck and onto your cheeks, the warmth from his unusual touch sending you unwarranted fuzzy feelings. As much as you wished this embrace could be all for Tsukki, you’d wanted to hug him with all your might for a while now.

“Y/n… Honest question, so don’t laugh at me. Why are you doing this?” Tsukishima breaks eye contact, arms shifting to lean your chest more on top of his as he sinks a little deeper onto the counter, his back supported by the ledge.

“What do you mean by ‘this’?” You inquire, eyes still fixed on him, searching his expression.

“I mean... You know when things are going to shit. You know when I need something. A back massage, a slap to the face, hell, even a coffee sometimes.” He snorts, trying not to take his own question too seriously.

You’re the one to sigh now. Doesn’t he know how these things work by now? That being in a relationship with him meant more than insulting the daylights out of each other and going out to dinner? Apparently even Tsukishima lacks a lot perspective when it comes to loving another human being.

“You’re stubborn as hell.” You state plainly, your face going blank.

“What?”

“You refuse to see that you need help too sometimes, babe. Hate to break it to ya, but I actually like listening to and hugging you.” You break into a small smile.

“What does that have to do with anything?” He rolls his eyes at your confusing sentence.

“Are you that dense?” You express with mock disdain at his response.

“Tsukki, I’m saying that you don’t burden me! That I want to be there for you even after shitty days like these! You’re an absolute dumbass!” You snicker and your smile reaches your eyes, crinkling and squinting as his meet yours.

Instead of saying anything, Tsukishima rests in place, dumbfounded.

It’s true, you always were there for him.

Cheering at every game. Cooking dinner for him when you knew he would get home way too late and practically starving. Letting him rant relentlessly about losses and seemingly endless practices.

So why was it that only after breaking down in every way possible, he would finally let you see his most vulnerable thoughts and fears. That he would allow you to witness his exhaustion only once it had reached its peak. That it took Tsukki completely collapsing to let you wrap you arms around him.

And you both guess that it’s because old habits die hard.

Tsukki would always be Tsukki. A little too cold and relentlessly set on drenching others in his never-ending supply of sarcasm. Reluctant to accept help until it was already showing through the bleeding cracks of his figure and laced within his pained speech.

Because for someone so good at putting up and breaking through blocks, Tsukishima needed help with the walls that he had built up under his skin over the years. He needed to see that he couldn’t always protect you from his fears, but that you would be there to help him fight them. Or at least hug them away when it all got too much.

And as he presses a gentle kiss onto your forehead, you know it will be okay. Because embraces like these are what chip away at walls of fear. It’s the first step and you can already feel the tension crumble away, allowing warmth to surround the two of you. 

So you begin to remind him more and more that you like hugs. And he lets you hold him far more often, slowly but surely letting you deeper into his mind and into his arms. A much needed and highly welcomed addition to your everyday life.

---

tags: @cherryonigiri, @yams046, @miss-rin, @shou-kunn, @senkuwu-chan, @super-noya, @stcrryskies, @holaaaf, @sugacookiies

(comment or send an ask to be added to my general tag list) 

[tuttycc]

tutty's modified 100 baby challenge

no need to link back to this post if you use! please at least call it a modified 100 baby challenge. all credit goes to snarky-sims-witch for the challenge!

Getting Started

Create a young adult Sim to start out with. We’ll call her the matriarch. For the sake of clarity, the matriarch will be referenced with female pronouns in the rules but your matriarch may have any gender customisations you wish, as long as she can get pregnant. She may have any traits, aspiration, appearance, walk style, and voice you like.

You may use the in-game personality quiz to determine your matriarch’s careers, traits, skills, and starting funds if you like. You may also opt out of this option if you prefer.

Move your matriarch into any lot she can afford with her starting funds. You may move as many times as you want during the challenge as long as you can afford it without cheating.

Find a Sim to impregnate your matriarch. For the sake of clarity, these Sims will be called donors and referenced with male pronouns in the rules, but your matriarch may have children with non-binary Sims as well.

Continue having children in this manner while following the rest of the challenge rules.

Base Rules

These rules apply to everyone, regardless of which packs you own. If you don’t own any add-on packs, you can just use these rules and disregard the other sections.

You must play with aging on and set to a short/normal lifespan. Auto-Aging for NPCs is encouraged to ensure the game keeps generating donors for your matriarch.

mods are allowed BESIDES anything that gives you a money advantage, such as child support! in fact, things like harder bills and 25 person household from MCCC are ENCOURAGED

cheats ARE NOT ALLOWED TO GAIN AN ADVANTAGE, but those such as reset sim, moveobjects and cas.fulleditmode are allowed and encouraged! (i just don't recommend changing up your child's genetics, i wouldn't allow it)

you may pick the lot traits for your lot, but they must STAY THAT WAY PERMANENTLY unless you move.

All in-game rewards from completing aspirations and social events may be used except ones that prolong your Sim’s lifespan or save them from death.

Babies can immediately be aged up into toddlers

Toddlers can be aged up when they reach level 3 in all toddler skills.

Children and teenagers can be aged up when they get an A in school.

Young adults can be moved out of the house to make room for more children but they cannot be moved back in after.

When your matriarch becomes an elder and can no longer bear children, her youngest daughter takes over as the next matriarch. You may move out your elderly matriarch only if her youngest daughter has become of child-bearing age (teen or young adult)

You cannot make more room in the house faster by killing off underage Sims or letting babies, toddlers or children be taken by social services. Raise your children to adulthood. Simple.

your matriarch cannot have a rabbit hole job or a get-to-work style job where you do it yourself! only odd jobs, crafting, writing, etc. freelancer is allowed!

Teenagers may hold part-time jobs to help support the family and bring in extra income.

Your matriarch may leave her home lot freely. She does not have to bring all her children with her whenever she leaves the lot.

Your matriarch may not get married while she is of child-bearing age. She may get married as an elder but she must move out of the home with her spouse. They can’t move into the active household.

Your matriarch may not get pregnant by the same donor twice. Once he has impregnated your Sim once, he cannot be used again for more children.

Donors may not contribute to the household in any way. They may not move in, help look after the children or provide any financial aid to the household. Your matriarch is responsible for supporting all her children by herself (unless the sims autonomously come over and help with the kids while they're visiting, but DO NOT say yes to any prompts to go on dates or anything!)

Your matriarch may not influence the gender of her children. Avoid strawberries, carrots, pop music, and alternative music to avoid influencing the gender of unborn babies.

randomize in-game traits as your sims age up, your matriarch can have traits you chose!

do NOT hire any services besides food delivery and selling pets!

DO NOT CREATE PUPPIES TO SELL FOR EXTRA MONEY. ALL PETS MUST HAVE BEEN ADOPTED THROUGH THE GAME

If you have add-on packs installed, there may be added rules or exceptions to the base rules. Continue to the add-on rules to see any additions.

Add-On Rules

The following rules apply to players who have add-on packs installed. Disregard any rules for packs you don’t have.

Your matriarch may NOT run a retail business, restaurant, or vet clinic

Your matriarch may have a work from home job but she must always choose the work from home option.

Your matriarch may join and create clubs as long as the club activities do not violate any challenge rules.

Your matriarch may have pets but keep in mind pets take up space in the household.

You may participate in holidays and create your own holidays as long as none of the traditions violate challenge rules. Feel free to edit existing holiday traditions to comply with the rules.

Your matriarch may become famous and build reputation through any means that don’t involve careers.

Your matriarch may go on vacation but she must bring her entire household with her. No vacations without all of the children, if you have babies age them up or don't go.

Your matriarch cannot be an occult member. She may use vampires as donors but any female vampire children are ineligible to take over as the next matriarch. You may cure a female vampire child to make her eligible again.

Your matriarch may use the wishing well but she cannot wish for a child.

Optional Occult Rules

Disregard this section if you do not want to play with occults. This is just for players who enjoy a more supernatural play style.

Occult Incentive

Your matriarch must be human.

Each occult born to your human matriarch adds two to your total child count, so one occult child is worth the equivalent of two human children.

dag dag and good luck!

[queenrose730]

Reckless

Part Eight

Master List

A deep scream woke you suddenly. Your body froze listening for anymore sounds. Another scream. You grab the gun under your pillow and get up from bed. Crossing the room, you place your ear to the door. Straining to hear anything from outside. Another scream. It was coming from across the hall in the other bedroom. Slowly you open your door. Letting your gun lead the way. Checking first down the hall towards the rest of the suit. Everything was still pitch black and there seemed to be no movement. Another scream. You moved to the other door. Bucky should be alone in there but still you raised your gun and swung the door open. The lamp on the bedside table was on, barely illuminating the room. The bed was empty. The room was just big enough to fit the bed and a closet. Bucky was laid out on the floor to the left of the bed. His head was thrown back into the pillow. Face twisted in pain. Sheets were tangled up around his middle and those that weren’t, were being gripped by his hand. He let out another scream.

“Shit.” You dropped your gun. He was in the middle of a nightmare. You left the room quickly. Knowing better than to try and wake him without help. Steve nearly took you head off on accident after a nightmare. That was nothing compared to what Bucky looked to be going through now. Walking back down the hall you flipped on lights as you went. Still a little on edge from his screaming. Once in the kitchen you set the gun down and turned on the tap. Letting it get as cold as possible. As you reached for a glass he screamed again. It somehow sounded even worse than the screams before. It nearly caused you to drop the glass. Once it was filled with the cold water, you made your way back to his room.

 The small room didn’t leave you with a lot of options. You weren’t sure how he was going to wake up. Being that he was a trained assassin it could get ugly quick. You decided that the best option was to stand on the other side of the bed. It would provide a little space between the two of you. You took a deep breath and tossed the water on him.

 Bucky shot with a scream.

 “Bucky!” You shouted at him. His eyes frantically looking around the room. When they found you though, it wasn’t Bucky looking at you. There was something much darker staring at you through his eyes.

 “Bucky?” You were much quieter almost as if not to draw any more attention from what was staring at you. You glanced at the door wondering if you could make it out in time. Or would he be faster. When you looked back he was blinking rapidly. The darkness was fading.

 “Yn?” There was nothing else behind his eyes but him now. You were still cautious.

 “You had a nightmare Bucky. Are you back with me?” He nodded before looking down and pulling the sheets closer around him. You relaxed your stance and walked to the foot of the bed. “Good. You scared the shot out of me for a minute there.” He only responded with a small sigh. “Well try and get some more sleep. It’s still pretty early.” You turned to head out of his room when he spoke up.

 “Can you stay?” You were going to say something g snarky to him when you turned but you stopped yourself. The man sitting on the floor looked so incredibly small. He looked broke about whatever happened in his nightmare.

 “Sure Bucky. I’ll stay.” You walked back around to the right side of the bed and climbed in. You positioned the pillows behind you back for some support. “Come on Bucky. I’m not laying on the floor with you.” You patted the spot next to you on the bed.

 He stood up slowly keeping the sheets wrapped around his waist. This was the first time you have seen him without a shirt. While yes both Bucky and Steve had a form of the super solider serum. Clearly it effected them differently. Steve was more trim. Muscles sharply defined under the skin. Bucky was thicker. His power hidden just slightly under his bulk. You tried your best to keep your eyes on his face but they kept wandering down as sweat and water slipped over his body.

 Once in the bed, Bucky laid his head on your lap and draped his arm over your legs. You responded by placing one arm over his shoulder and your hand gently combing through his hair. He moaned slightly at the touch and settled in tighter to you.

 “Do you want to talk about it Bucky?”

 “No.” He sighed. “I don’t.”

 “That’s fine. Just try and get some sleep. I’ll stay right here.” You continued to lazily comb through his hair until your eyes got heavy. Leaning your head back against the wall you closed your eyes

 The sun was shining brightly through the window and onto the bed when you woke up. You blinked against the light and adjusted so the beam was out of your face. Some point in the night you had stretched over to your right side. Awkwardly curled at the head of the bed. A bed that was now only holding you. Bucky must have gotten up at some point in the morning. You weren’t even sure of the time. Cursing to yourself silently you get up out of bed. Steve was supposed to call you this morning but you had left your phone in your room after Bucky’s nightmare. The door was slightly open and you could hear something clattering to the ground out in the suite. It was followed by a string of curse words.

 “Everything good out there Bucky?” You shouted down the hall.

 “Yep!”

 “Ok.” You laughed at the exasperation in his voice. “Let me grab my phone and I’ll come help.”

 “Actually I have your phone out here.” He walked to the entrance of the hall and held up your phone. “Steve already called.”

 “Shit. Why didn’t you wake me up Bucky!” You walked over and snatched the phone from his hand.

 “You were sleeping good. And after last night, I just didn’t want to wake you.” He shrugged. “Plus, I didn’t feel like getting punched this early.”

 “Well I might still punch your asshole.” You looked through the phone. Sure enough there was a number you didn’t recognize that called about an hour and a half ago. “What did he say?” Bucky grabbed your wrist and pulled you out of the hallway.

 “I’ll tell you while you eat.” He had a big grin on his face as he moved out of the way.

 “So that’s what all the noise was.” You raised your eyebrow at the site in front of you. The table had been set for two. In the empty space had been filled with breakfast. Pancakes, egg, bacon, and fruit.

 “Uh yea.” He walked to the table and pulled out the chair for you. “I figured it was the least I could do since I woke you up last night.” You set your phone down on the table and sat in the chair.

 “You seriously didn’t have to Bucky. But thank you anyway.” Bucky carefully poured each of you a cup of coffee before he sat down across from you. “Did I really sleep through you grinding coffee beans?”

 “No. I actually snuck out of the suite to do it.” You hummed as you took a sip of the fresh coffee. Bucky began to load up his plate.

 “Did you make all this yourself Bucky?” You reached across and plated yourself some eggs and a couple pieces of bacon.

 “Not exactly. I was just planning on making you coffee. But I ran into the person that has been bringing us food so far. I talked them into making this stuff for us.”

 “I see. I was going to be pretty impressed if you had done all this with only one arm.” You raised your brows at him.

 “Well in that case.” He gave you a giant grin. “I actually did all do all this myself.” You leaned back in your chair laughing at him.

 “I’m sure you did Bucky. You defiantly seem like the kind to make grand gestures.”  You watched him as he began to eat.

 “What is that supposed to mean yn?” He raised an eye brow at you. “I was quite the ladies’ man when I was younger.” He sat back in his chair and gave you a smirk.

 “Well ladies are quite a bit different now Bucky.”

 “I can I see that.” He leaned forward again leaning slightly on his forearms that rested on the table. You squirmed slightly at the look he was giving, but you cleared your throat.

 “So what did Steve say Bucky?”

 “Sam and Wanda are ok. Wanda is still pretty shaken up over being at the Raft. From what Steve said she was lockdown with some collar and jacket.”

“Fuck.” You ran you let hands over your face. “Of course they would do that.” Bucky gave you a questioning look. “It was so she couldn’t use her powers. Most likely that was a high power shock collar. She would have been on a separate level also. Away from Sam, Clint and Scott. God that place is horrible.”

 “Shit. No wonder she’s messed up.”

 “No kidding. Anything else?”

 “Not really.” Bucky shook his head. “Steve did say to have you call him back.” You made a move to stand up. “Eat first.” He grabbed your phone from the table.

 “Bucky I’m fine.”

 “Yn. You have barely ate since we got here. Steve isn’t going anywhere yet.”

 You begrudgingly sit back down and pick at your eggs. Bucky on the other hand was shoving a fork full of pancakes into his mouth.

 “Did Steve say where they were at?”

 “Somewhere in northern India.” He mumbled through a mouthful of food.

 “I’m starting to think this food was more for you than me.” You chuckled. Bucky forced down what was still in his mouth.

 “I can’t tell you the last time I ate like this.” His shoulders sagged. “Even when I was on the run. Most my food came from a can. Plus, I’m not very good in the kitchen.”

 “Well,” You placed your fork down and pushed your plate away. “When you get defrosted I’ll have to cook for you.”

 “Really?” His eyes lit up.

 “Yep. I’m pretty ok.” You shrugged your shoulders and stood up. “Now can I have my phone.” Bucky looked back down at your plate then handed over your phone. “Thanks.” You walked out to the balcony and sat at the small table. You took a deep breath and tapped the last number on your phone.

Tags- @ginger-swag-rapunzel

[mortedeveles]

BEAST. [Halloween Week] [P.2]

Summary: Throughout the years you’ve known Bakugou Katsuki, he’s never celebrated Halloween with you. This year seems to be an exception, and you’re not sure if it’s a good or bad thing. One day at a scare house unravels the secrets of the friend you’ve been pining after for months, and you experience horror and fear like never before. 

THIS IS PART 2. FIND PART 1 HERE: BEAST P.1

PLEASE CHECK OUT MY OTHER HALLOWEEN WEEK FIC HERE: TILL DEATH DO US PART. 

HALLOWEEN WEEK MASTERLIST! 

Pairing: Werewolf! Bakugou Katsuki x fem!reader

Theme: Horror, fantasy, halloween, quirkless!au. [HALLOWEEN WEEK] [ONE-SHOT: PART 2] 

TWs: description of graphic violence, fighting, cursing and blood. 

Word Count: 3K (aprox. 3026 words)

A/N: Hey guys! Here’s the second (and final, until stated otherwise) part of BEAST! With this, I’ve concluded my part in Halloween Week! HOWEVER, please continue supporting the event and my fellow writers with REBLOGS, comments and likes!

If you enjoy this, please support me with REBLOGS, comments, follows and likes!! 

''Ka-Katsuki,'' your lip wobbled as you spoke. ''Are you still in there?'' 

The werewolf bared its teeth, growling lowly. Your heart raced as you weighed your options.

I need to get away from him. But if I run, he'll overpower me. Beads of sweat dripped down your forehead.

Wolves live in packs. They work with one another. Maybe, he'll still recognize me...?

With a hard swallow, you rose from the ground. Bakugou growled and his body tensed but made no attempt to rip your body apart.

''Hey,'' you said softly, slowly reaching out a trembling hand. Bakugou growled loudly, saliva dripping from his fangs. You swallowed.

Wolves can smell fear.

Straightening your posture, you licked your lips as you forced yourself to stop trembling, and stared at Bakugou at his eyes. Time seemed to slow down as you did so. Your movements were impossibly slow, sluggish and at any moment, you could make a mistake. 

''It's Y/N. You remember me, big boy?'' Slowly, you stepped closer, keeping your hand outstretched.

Surprisingly, the werewolf only grunted in response, watching your every move.

''I'm your friend. And you can be a gremlin sometimes, but you won't hurt me, right?'' 

You reached the beast. Your hand brushed against Bakugou's head, softly petting the fur. His chest rumbled and slowly, his body relaxed.

But just as the storm had calmed down, it picked up at full speed. A few feet away, you heard a howl from the bushes, followed by loud growling and the rustling of branches. 

Bakugou immediately tensed, pushing you a few feet away and snarling towards the source of the noise. His fur tips stood up, claws gleaming in the moonlight, his beastly eyes swarming with bloodlust. 

You fell to the ground- again, and staggered backward, fearing what was to come. In a blink of an eye, a large, lean werewolf leaped out of the bushes and tackled Bakugou to the ground. 

A flurry of snarls, growls, and yelps filled in the air and for a second, Bakugou's eyes met yours. And they weren't pitch black, but the shining red you loved. As he yelped, you swore you heard his voice intertwine with the whine, yelling at you to leave. 

Nearly tripping on your own feet, you raced out of the forest, even as you heard Bakugou yelp. It made your heart squeeze from the worry, but all you could think about was escaping the forest.

Branches scraped your arms as you ran through the forest, and you nearly wept out of joy when you left the trees behind and stepped onto cracked concrete. 

Your foot slapped against the road as you raced further away from the forest, following the road signs until you reached a familiar looking neighborhood. Home.

You don't remember how you must've looked as you arrived home, with scratches and scars, twigs and branches in your hair, and a look of absolute fear on your face, but surprisingly, your parents weren't home, so it was one less problem. 

Since it was the weekend, you had been planning to sleep in all day and try to recover from whatever the hell happened yesterday. The images still flashed in your mind, all of them blending together- the scare house, Bakugou's horrific transformation, the gruesome fight. Your stomach wouldn't stop churning.

Around the afternoon, the doorbell rang. You heard your parents shout and fight earlier, but ultimately left around ten in the morning. Groaning, you buried your face deeper into the blankets, deciding to ignore whoever was at the door.

But then the doorbell rang again. And again, and again, until it kept ringing consecutively for minutes.

''Go the fuck away!'' You shouted from your bed, hoping it would reach the stranger's ears.

Maybe it did, but they didn't care. The doorbell continued ringing, and you buried your mouth in a pillow and screamed into it.

After a few minutes, you regained your composure and went towards the front door. Surprisingly, they were still there. You froze when you met familiar red eyes. 

It was Bakugou. He was holding an orange plastic bag in one hand, his other scratching his neck nervously. When he saw the door swing open, his eyes widened for a second.

''Hey.'' He said gruffly. Even as he retained his cool and careless composure, you could see the sweat trailing down his forehead, and his left shoe tapping the floor anxiously. There were some stitches and bandages on his face that weren't there yesterday. 

''What- what are you doing here?'' You asked, wondering whether if this was the end of your friendship or not.

Bakugou swallowed. ''We need to talk.''

You bit the inside of your cheek before reluctantly nodding.

''Okay. Come on in.''

                                    ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

''What do you remember?'' Was the first thing he said as the two of you sat at the dining table.

You snorted, tapping your fingers on the table. ''Bakugou, I was scared, but I didn't go into a coma. I remember...everything.'' You swallowed thickly. He remained silent. You pressed your lips in a thin line.

''What...why didn't you tell me about it before?''

He scoffed dryly, raising an eyebrow in amusement. ''Wouldja have believed me if I did?'' 

You shrugged, before pondering it for a few moments. ''Yeah, you're right. That was a dumb question.'' 

Katsuki chuckled, before shoving the mysterious object in front of you. 

''What is this?'' You questioned as you examined the bag.

''It's for you, obviously.'' His snarky comment made you smile.

When you opened the bag, your smile grew wider. It was hundreds, if not thousands of candy, the type you'd get after trick or treating at dozens of houses.

''Look, I know... yesterday didn't go as planned, a lot of weird shit happened, and I'm sorry.'' 

You giggled. ''You don't say?'' The blonde snorted and rolled his eyes. 

When he moved, you noticed how he softly winced and clutched his ribs. Your eyes widened and you leaned over the table to examine his face and chest.

''Oh god. You're hurt from yesterday, aren't you?'' 

Bakugou shrugged you off, avoiding your gaze. ''It's nothin'. Just got roughed up a bit.''

You frowned, rising from your seat and walked towards him, grabbing his face in your hands. You didn't notice how his face went warm.

''This is my fault,'' you murmured, brushing your thumb on his cheek.

''If I hadn't suggested going to that stupid scare house, you would've been at home, you would've been safe-,'' You stopped when Bakugou's hands reached for yours and wrapped around yours.

''Shut up, dummy.'' He furrowed his eyebrows. ''It's not your fault. If I hear you blame yourself one more time, I'm going to smack some sense into you. Got it?''

You laughed softly. Between soft laughter and comforting words, you hadn't noticed how close you'd gotten to him, or how easily you'd slid onto his lap.

''Bakugou...it doesn't matter. You're hurt. Let me help you.''

''No.'' His tone was firm and for some reason, angered you. ''I'm fine. Just fucking drop it.''

''No, you drop the act,'' you snapped back. ''Can't you just let me help you?''

The blonde's face hardened. ''I hid this from you for years, because it's not fucking safe for you. This is my shitty problem, so stop nagging.'' 

You slipped out of his lap, crossing your arms over your chest. ''Bakugou, even if I wouldn't have believed you, you could've told me. Look, I don't know how this works, but I could've been there for you. I could've helped.'' 

He growled and rose from the chair, meeting your determined gaze.

''No, I don't need your fucking help. I'm fine.'' 

Maybe it was his constant refusal, or yesterday's events, or the screaming match your parents had in the morning, but you lost it. You lost the reins to your control and exploded. Grinding your teeth together, you rose from his lap and stepped back. 

''You're fine?!'' You shouted, slamming a fist on the table. ''Bakugou, you're a werewolf for christ's sake! And I didn't even know until yesterday! You got hurt yesterday, you need help!'' He scowled and opened his mouth to protest, but you raised a hand.

''No. You listen to me, Bakugou Katsuki. You kept this secret for me for years, and who knows, you might be hiding something else!'' You cried out, rubbing your forehead.

''Don't you trust me?! I've been in love with you for so long, and-,'' A sudden warm and soft pair of lips pressing against yours froze your sentence midway.

Bakugou's hands slid to your hips and you quickly melted into the kiss, looping your hands around his neck. He pressed you closer, lips dancing and communicating in a way neither of you could do verbally.

''I'm sorry,'' he said breathlessly. ''It's so hard for me to say this but fuck- I'm sorry. I know that you're going through a shitty time and this isn't helping.''

Both of you pulled away, chests heaving and swollen lips.

''Shut up,'' you murmured as your hands tangled themselves in his spiky blond hair. ''Shut up and kiss me again.''

Bakugou was quick to comply with your wishes.

                                         ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── 

Who knew that an angry discussion would end out in a makeout session, followed by the official start of your romantic relationship with Bakugou Katsuki?

''Oi, Y/N,'' Bakugou knocked on your open door as he stepped inside your bedroom. You beamed and greeted him with a kiss on his cheek, to which he replied the same. You grinned when you saw his face redden.

''Glad you could make it. I have your costume here!'' You rushed to your closet, but Bakugou held you back and squeezed your arm. You raised an eyebrow.

''What is it, Katsuki?'' 

He scratched the back of his neck, before revealing a neatly wrapped black square. 

''I...'' He cleared his throat, averting his gaze. ''I got you something.'' 

Your heart softened. ''Oh, you didn't have to get me anything. What did you get me?''

The blonde placed the wrapped black box in your hands and shoved his hands in his pockets. He didn't respond and instead walked over to your bed and sat on the edge.

''How the fuck am I supposed to know?'' He snorted. ''It's yours, so fucking open it.''

His crude language made you snicker. You took a seat next to him and began to unwrap it. Your jaw slackened as you pulled out the brand new, expensive-looking dress and black, sleek, and shiny cloak.

''I saw that your costume...got turned to shit. So you can use that one, I tried to find the same dress.''

Shocked, you remained silent for several minutes. The dress looked far more expensive than your original one, with richer colors and fabric, as well as the cloak.

Bakugou shifted uncomfortably and you heard him scratch his neck. ''Or not. Do whatever the fuck you want with it, I don't give a-,'' You didn't give him the time to finish his sentence as you launched yourself on him, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug.

''Thank you,'' your voice was muffled by the blonde's chest. His body stiffened by your embrace, but slowly, hesitantly returned your hug. 

''Tch. It's-it's not a problem.'' As you hugged him tightly, Bakugou was vaguely concerned whether you'd hear his racing heart, somersaulting, and fluttering at your proximity. 

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, the two of you pulled away. You quickly shooed Bakugou out of the room to dress and prepare your costume. Once you were done, you opened the door and allowed him inside once again.

''Alright, you ready to go?'' He gave you a once over and his face slightly reddened. ''You-you look good. Let's go.'' Katsuki grabbed your hand, but you stepped back.

''No!'' You said with a mischievous grin. ''You're dressing up as well.'' 

His eyes narrowed and he shook his head. ''What? Of course not. I'm not taking part in this shitty holiday.'' 

You gasped, grabbing ahold of him and pushing him down on your bed.

''It's not a shitty holiday. Now hush, while I find the perfect costume.''

The blonde grumbled and complained loudly, but made to attempt to leave. 

''You have to do this,'' you said as you fussed in your closet, digging and searching through years worth of clothing.

Bakugou scowled. ''Tch. Out of all the things you want to do, trick or treating is the most important one?'' 

You quickly turned around and beamed in agreement. ''Yeah! Yesterday was weird, to say the least,'' He snickered in response. ''But today will be different. We're going to go trick or treating, and you're going to enjoy it.'' 

The blonde huffed and smirked as he watched you move back and forth in your closet.

''Aha!'' You grinned as your hands wrapped around the year-old ears, collar, and tail, and pulled them out of the basket. Alongside, you picked up the other part of the costume, folded neatly into squares. 

''Here's your costume,'' You shoved them in Bakugou's outstretched hands.

''You've gotta be fucking kidding me.''

You cackled at his stone face. ''I'm not. Now hurry up, I want to see how you look in them.''

With a loud, animalistic growl, Bakugou marched out of your room and locked himself in the bathroom. You couldn't stop giggling as you heard him curse and mutter while dressing. 

Once the door swung open, you sat upright on your bed and waited with expectant eyes.

Bakugou marched into your room with a sneer. You nearly squealed in delight. He was wearing a pair of dark brown wolf ears, a red collar with some loose chains, a long olive green parka that was ripped at the edges, a plain white teeshirt, loose jeans, and a dark brown tail attached to his behind to top it off.

You clapped your hands slowly with an everlasting grin on your face.

''You look... divine!''

Bakugou sneered. ''Out of all the humiliating costumes you could've picked, you decided to go with the most ironic one, didn't you?'' He huffed, before shaking his head and sliding his hand into yours. ''Come on dumbass, let's go trick or treating.'' 

With an excited giggle, the two of you left the house and stepped outside. Houses were decorated with Halloween objects, orange, purple, and yellow fairy lights, hanging ghosts and skeletons, and the wealthier ones had impressive equipment such as a groaning zombie android. 

Children of all ages shuffled past you, in a swarm of hundreds of colors and costumes, each of them running toward houses with an incomparable amount of passion and excitement. You heard squeals, giggles, laughter, and the often ''Trick or treat!'' 

''C'mon, let's go!'' Tugging Bakugou forward and your orange pumpkin bag hanging on your other arm, the two of you raced forward.

Hours went by as you walked house from house, and your bag grew heavier with every house you visited. Bakugou would barely speak when approaching a house and resigned to keeping watch over you.

''Come on, Katsu, you have to enjoy the night!'' You complained as the two of you strode to a small park, deciding to take a small break and sit on the swings.

''I am.'' He replied dryly and you sighed, shaking your head.

''How much candy do you have?'' He opened his bag of candy. It was only a fourth of what you had collected. 

You clicked your tongue. 

''We can't take a break, you need more candy.'' Bakugou shook his head.

''No, I need a break from hearing those screaming brats,'' he grumbled, throwing his head back. You laughed softly.

The screams and squeals of children were distant, and the wind softly blew past you as nearby crickets chirped. Some people lingered by in the small park but weren't too close.

''You're such an old man,'' you teased with a playful grin.

Bakugou growled. ''Fuck no! I am not-what the hell?!'' Shocked, the two of you glanced back, only to see a small pomeranian dog growling, teeth clamped around Bakugou's green parka.

''You little shithead!'' The blonde growled. He abruptly stood up and attempted to grab the parka, but the dog was persistent. It growled loudly, tail wagging as it tugged at the parka.

You sputtered out a loud laugh, eyes wide as you watched the bizarre interaction. 

''Fuck off!'' Despite Bakugou's aggressiveness, you noticed how he made no attempts to harm the dog. 

''Oh my god! I'm so sorry!'' A squeaky voice interrupted your observation and you watched a young girl dressed as a bee rush forward, quickly picking up the biting dog in her arms.

''Fucking control your dog!'' Bakugou snapped as he brushed his parka. ''I don't want to see this shit again.'' 

The girl swallowed before nodding and running off. You sighed, shaking your head in disapproval.

''You could've been nicer to her, she's just a kid.'' 

The blonde grunted. He sat back down on the swing. 

'Whatever. Next time.'' You snorted. 

''I understand why the dog went after you, though.'' Swinging back and forth, you grinned at Katsuki. He raised an eyebrow, unamused. 

''One dog recognizes another, don't they?'' His eyes widened and before he could get his hands on you, you giggled and raced off, leaving the park and Bakugou behind you.

''You little sh-HEY! Get back here, Y/N!'' You laughed loudly as you raced past crowds of children and decorated houses. Just as you thought you had outrun him, a pair of strong and heavy arms wrapped around you and turned you around.

Smiling sheepishly, you looped your arms around Bakugou's neck. His vermilion eyes were still blazing, but with a playful look.

''Getting cocky now, aren't you?'' He smirked, hands grabbing your hips. You tilted your head to the side with a small smile.

''Maybe.'' 

The blonde snorted. He leaned closer, his lips brushing against yours until they were completely pressed together, chasing after each other.

A loud ''Eww!'' broke you apart and you stifled a giggle as Bakugou glared down at the child who had interrupted your moment. The child quickly scrambled away. 

 You smiled, brushing your nose against Bakugou's.

''Happy Halloween, Katsuki.'' 

PLEASE SUPPORT ME WITH REBLOGS, LIKES, FOLLOWS AND COMMENTS!!! 

If anyone’s interested in seeing BEAST extended (this is the final part), send me an ask or DM and I’ll see what I can do! 

TAGLIST: @sandwichez01​ @ur-local-simp​ @moonri3e​ 

[illnessfaker]

How do you feel about going to therapy or seeking psychiatric help in general as someone who is anti psychiatry? I'm still new to it and ik one doesn't equal the other (being anti-psych and not interacting at all with it) but I feel like I need psychiatric help still and idk how to feel about that. hope this isn't too much

i mean you're asking someone currently going through the admittedly arduous process of finding a therapist with sufficient experience in treating patients with did/osdd-1 (maybe it would be less arduous if i didn't live in rural shitville "city" 5 hours away from anything) because as it turns out counting to 10 when you're mad or talking about your problems doesn't do anything about the dissociated part of myself buried deep in my psyche who repeats over and over that god wants to kill them despite how i stopped believing in god when i was like 16-17 or something.

that's a pretty snarky answer i'm sorry but what i mean to emphasize is that psychiatry can be ethically fucked without it being unethical to seek out psychiatric services just as the medical industrial complex can be ethically fucked without it being unethical to regularly see a physician. the issue is that psychiatry as an institution and an ideology enables and even sometimes encourages horrific violence on an individual and systemic scale. you're a subject of the tenets of psychiatry (so to speak) by wanting to see a therapist, a shrink, going to a psych ward, or anything else like that, rather than being someone upholding said tenets or being an agent of psychiatric violence.

part of that violence is some people do need psychiatric services, or at least what they theoretically promise. recovery cannot happen in isolation. i thought i didn't need therapy or that it would never work for me because i was just fundamentally uncooperative but then i learned that i have ~multiple personalities~ and chronic dissociation that made therapists trying to work with me in the past like they were knocking on a door (me) but nobody was home and i'm glad that was it because uneducated therapists working with dissociative patients in the sense that i am can do a lot of unintentional damage. so, unless you're lucky enough to easily find a therapist / shrink / whatever that works well with you right off the bat, many people often spend years being subject to (re)traumatization at the hands of ignorant or even outright malicious practitioners and psychiatric staff in both outpatient and inpatient services. the very system that is supposed to help them and provide support is instead making their lives magnitudes worse. this isn't even going into like, the economic violence of how expensive a lot of these services are and locking someone in a psych ward after transporting them in an ambulance from the emergency room and then the massive bill that comes after all of that.

that being said, this isn't a discouragement from trying to seek psychiatric services - i personally feel like i have no real choice and i encourage others to seek out "help" should they desire it and should it be an actual option for them, and that's coming from someone who's experiences so far in therapy have been somewhat retraumatizing and also who's been locked in a psych ward against my will at a young age with the alternative being "police escort" during a time where i was being abused at home (but of course clinicians couldn't pick up on that despite me basically admitting it to a therapist one time.) just arm yourself with knowledge and awareness and a healthy level of doubt and critical thinking regarding "abnormal psychology." also don't be like the self-important dipshits on social media trying to like weaponize the concept of therapy with "go to therapy" as more than some gotcha comeback thing but also somewhat of an ideological belief, although that's thankfully died down.

i've gotten an ask like this in the past and my answer is mostly the same - just a different and more unhinged perspective now that i've realized and come to terms with some stuff.

[koko-bopp]

Arrogance

kim dongyoung x male!reader

word count - 1.4K

genre - Fluff? | College!au | enemies to lovers!au

warning(s) - Some sexual tension, arguments, arrogant reader, a kiss, competitive relationship

synopsis - You're determined, driven and a student who carries himself with confidence, never accepting second place as an option. Doyoung mistakenly gets himself into your bad books, and yet he also finds himself crushing on you.

“You got the answer wrong.”

He frowns, looking up at you from the economics papers and at you, “Excuse me?”

You two were a good six feet away from each other; this was his dorm, so you took it upon yourself to at least be respectful around his own comfort-space, what would normally be back and fourth insult-banter kind of just because ‘you do what you need to do and I’ll do this, but only if you beg for my assistance, I’ll help.’

You two were only freshman and it honestly started off with you to just striking up a casual conversation. A ‘hi’ ‘hello’ ‘why’d you pick econ?’ ‘i don't know’ ‘you don't know?’

"I'm actually doing Politics, Economics and Philosophy," you huff, grinning at Doyoung, but shifting in your seat to fix your sweater, "This is just my elective."

"Ah," Doyoung nods in approval, "Smart boy."

You can’t really remember why or how you two started getting really standoff-ish, it kind of just started happening after you two were looking at the first-exam scores at the pin board after the class. 

“How do you think you did?” Doyoung asks, having stepped next to you since you both wanted to look at the paper properly after the crowd around it had lessened.

“Very well, it seems,” You respond, not looking at Doyoung but a triump smile on your lips as you just stared at the result.

The answer confused Doyoung, he instead decided to shift his gaze from you and onto the pin board. 

[Y/N] [L/N] — 100%

A hundred? You got a full score? Doyoung was really surprised, especially because he’s only seen you take a handful of notes in lectures and barely go to see the tutes while he’s already gone through so many lecture notes and– how did you get a hundred? Doyoung turned to you again, his eyes wide, “Did you cheat?”

You frowned, turning to Doyoung, “Was that an accusation?”

Doyoung realised what he said, then immediately tried to back-track, “No, I just– you know, it’s just unlikely to get a full score.”

You fully faced Doyoung, your chest facing him as you spoke, your eyebrows were knitted and your hand was in your pocket, your whole aura giving off a ‘as a matter of fact’ tone, “I work hard to be where I am, Kim,” You state, his name rolling off your tongue with dislike, “And more imporantly, I don’t need unethical methods to be better than you.”

Doyoung didn't know how to react to that, he was kind of shocked. You two had been a little competitive during beer pong over at Johnny's party, sure, he also joked about doing better than you in the Econ paper, and maybe he also took a bet he could get nurse's number because he was kinda cute but surely... surely, you never took any of that to heart.

It just had become a hate-love relationship after that. If Doyoung noticed you were stuck on something; he'd give you the answer, you get him coffee on Thursday's because you know he spends the night playing videogames with Johnny on Wednesday, Doyoung makes snarky remarks about your outfits and you'll make insults about his. You guys don't hate each other, but one will always have something to disagree with when it comes to the other; Doyoung's competitive, but as a joke. You're competitive, you want to win, but you're also a huge asshole about it.

Like, you always want to win, but you make sure Doyoung— and anyone you're competing against for that matter– knows that you're always four steps ahead before they even have a chance to look in front of them. You're a tease like that, you answer questions with a question, you make comments that stimulate questions that aren't related to the topic just to throw people off-track. İt has to be the political and philosophical part of your subject, you carry all this whit like a postman does with letters and just distrubute it when you feel like it. 

But, it wasn’t long before Doyoung had identified that he may have a crush on you.

It made a bit of sense. You’re beyond attractive, and even more when you’d furrow your eyebrows to focus on a task, of bite down on something not even realising you’ve done it. There was a time you were chatting with Mark who was sitting behind you that day and someone thought it would be a smart idea to have a go at you; watching you tear them limb by limb just from your words and facts? Your confidence just, its just admiring, watching you answer questions with the will to learn and engage and sometimes even educate. 

And if it wasn’t intellectually, then definetly physically. Sometimes he’s catch you at the gym close to campus, and just, you know, stare for a moment too long, maybe? He’d sat next to you one time at a tute and your hands just looked super nice for some reason, maybe they’d look better around his neck, though.

Maybe it’s is your attitude. The way you carry yourself, your passion to be the best and do the best in everything you do. Dedication is an admirable strength and it’s very evidently a quality you posses.

Yeah, maybe it’s just that.

"I said," you mocked, leaning forward, throwing the pen on the bed, "You got the answer wrong."

"Oh, yeah, smartass? Why you so obsessed with me? Don't you have your own things to do?" He barks.

There was a joking tone in his voice, You picked up on it. "Don't jeopardise my scores. I'm relying on you just as much as you are on me."

He scoffed, re-reading his answer on the case-study paper before looking back at you, "Nothing's wrong with it."

"Okay," you sigh, a bit dramatically, "If you say so."

Doyoung goes over it one more time. There's nothing wrong with it, and he was getting more and more mad at you questioning his credability, “Seriously?”

You don’t even look up from the paper you were holding, he just watched you highlight one of the passages from the text in the neon yellow as you spoke, “Don’t worry about it, damn, I just made a mistake, Doyoung.”

Doyoung threw the paper back onto his desk before getting up from his seat on the chair of his desk and walking over to you. You were sitting on the edge of his bed, and he took the paper out of your hand and disregarded it anywhere just to get your attention. 

Doyoung frowned angrily, looking down at you as you rolled your eyes, placing your hands behind you so your palms were holding you up while also gazing up at the male, “What?” you ask, a bit more rhetorically than not, “You’re seriously upset because I thought you made a mistake?”

“No, this isn’t just about that,” he spat, “This is about you always pushing me into the second place box because you can’t handle anything less than number one. This is about you being so damn pretty that I literally don’t want to beat the shit out of you because of it. This is about you acting like this so often that there’s times where you’ll walk past me and I’ll get worried as to why you’re not flicking the back of my head!” Doyoung just kept going on with his rant, and while you sitting there just watching him and actually, maybe, listening to him for once was making it a bit easier, “All because of a joke in freshman fucking year, you just— I don’t even know! You just hate me because I humoured your integrity? [Y/N], for fucks sake, you always act like you’re better than—”

Doyoung didn’t even know what happened next, he had suddenly landed his knee in between your legs while the other kind of hug off the bed, a hand on your shoulder and the other clutching on the fabric covering your chest as a support. You’d pulled him down from the center of the blue and white stripped t-shirt he was wearing, just to place his lips onto yours.

Doyoung was beyond shocked at first, his eyes had flown open but the feeling became so gentle and mellow that he couldn’t even stop his body from relaxing and his eyelids fluttering shut. Was this what he was waiting for? For you to just give up your arrogance for a minute and just kiss him already?

Your lips were so,,, soft. 

Was that what you wanted? To kiss him? because it seemed to be something he wanted without even knowing it.

You pulled away a few moments after Doyoung had relaxed into your touch, opening your eyes slowly and carefully, then rolling your eyes at the male, "Also, I feel like you should know, that I got the nurse's number, and I was gonna wait until I knew what I wanted as my prize," you said, still keeping a hold on Doyoung's shirt.

He scowled, hitting you on the shoulder, "You kiss me and then you just–! How heartless are you!? That was literally my first–! You know what–?"

"Go on a date with me," you interrupted, "That'll be my prize."

Doyoung could feel his heart in his chest, his cheeks flared pink at the demand but he was also deeply touched, "Are you... are you seriously?"

You chuckled softly, looking at the male you just kissed, "I should really get going."

"You– you're an asshole," Doyoung pouted, his grip on your shirt never leaving.

You winked and grinned at Doyoung, "I'll pick you up at three tomorrow," you stated, before adding; "Don't be late."

[coeursetcolores]

Therion, the Thief: Chapter 1

WARNING! Spoilers ahead for Chapter 1 of Therion’s story in Octopath Traveler!

Oh yes, it’s time! Angsty thief boy time!

Crime! Yayyyyyyyy!

This is the one I’ve been waiting to do the longest! Therion’s actually the character I picked at the beginning! Thief mains, rise up (and steal things)!

I gotta say, Therion is hitting on every right note for me: angsty boy, mysterious past, snarky but not too much of a jerk, sarcastic, clever, fringe; that’s the good stuff. Mmmm, quality edgy boi material.

I love thieves who take pride in their work. I get some people only turn to crime because they have no choice, but it’s fun to see people who take pride in something someone else would look down on them for. I mean, based on Therion’s flashbacks, he probably didn’t have a choice but now he’s just going around robbing rich people. Which honestly, goals.

I also just get this really haunted vibe off of him, like clearly something happened to him that involved Darius. And whatever it was has clearly affected him to the point he refuses to work with anyone. In a game that’s focused on it’s party. Where he can be recruited.

...

Yeahhhhhh.

BUTWHOCARESWEGETTOROBPEOPLE!!!!! This is every thief main’s dream, stealing outside of fights and cutscenes, robbing random NPCs! Children, the elderly, the poor, forget morality! Everyone’s belongings are mine to take! MWAHAHAHAAA!!!!

I like the steal option. (＾◡＾)

And it works great in fights! Once the enemy’s health is low enough. Free stuff is just great!

The knife totally fits and I know that thieves can use swords, but I would think if he already had the knife he’d bring something lighter for support, like a claw or a crossbow. Crossbow for range, claw because he’s like a kitty. ヾ(=`ω´=)ノ”  I dunno, the sword just seems kind of heavy.

Bolderfall...lives up to it’s name, it is a bunch of rocks. Pretty rocks. I would’ve liked a waterfall in the middle somewhere, but it’s nice. It’s a good place to make one of the big cities, I bet it’d be really fun to build around a mountain.

Ravus Manor is also really cool and I appreciate the game leaving it in town so I don’t have to go through a different are with different enemies to get there (Tressa Chapter 2, I’m looking at you). And the manor itself gives a unique tone: you know there’s people still living there, but the lighting gives off this feeling of emptiness, like what was once there is gone, even though it’s mostly still there. But something’s missing, and it’ll never come back.

This also works for Therion. He’s clearly lost something: he’s a lot happier in his flashbacks with Darius and something had to have happened to have turned him off partnerships. When he watches those other two thieves go off, you can tell he’s hurt but still longing for the time he wasn’t alone.

Similar to Olberic and Primrose, a lot of Therion’s character and motivation is fleshed out through his flashbacks; this is a good and subtle to show that, compared to the other travelers, these three have more experience when it comes to the world. They’ve had their own adventures while the others are just about to start their first one. I think it’s good to have a little diversity in experience within a party to convey more than one mood in a story; this also helps allow the characters to have different views on a situation.

Okay...confession time: Heathcote destroyed me. My first boss made a fool out of me. He also had minions with him because apparently I did some horrific crime that earned me the wrath of the JRPG gods who have cursed me to continually face summon bosses. And the game just let him summon more and more and I’M SORRY! PLEASE HAVE MERCY ON MY SWITCH BATTERY! I also couldn’t do anything about his specials. And do you know why? Because I am an idiot who forgot about the BP system. Yeah, I’m that dumb. And Heathcote took full advantage of that.

Speaking of Heathcote...

Cordelia.

WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU TWO?!

You two had the one of the most ridiculous plans I’ve ever heard! Your plan to get your stuff back is lure a thief into your home, have them prove themselves by attacking and injuring your staff, significantly lowering your home’s defenses, fight your elderly butler with no reason to believe that your invader wouldn’t kill whoever tried to stop them and get them to go get your dragonstones by putting what’s basically a dunce cap on them?! What if, oh I don’t know, the thief didn’t care?! What if they just walked away? What if took the dragonstone with them? What if another thief or an enemy to your house came in after your defenses got whipped and decided to wreck the place? HUH?!!!! What then?!

Why not, and just hear me out, use your vast fortune and HIRE someone to get it?! You clearly have plenty of money to hire a bunch of guards and weird ice lantern spirits! Or offer to pay the thief and pay them when they bring all the stones back! Who knows, Therion might have willingly helped you! Because you know what happens when you blackmail people? Once you let them go, there’s no insurance they won’t want revenge! Who’s gonna stop Therion f after he get’s the Fool’s Bangle off, he decides to steal the dragonstones again, because you pissed him off?! You know what, that’s what I’m gonna do!

Sorry, I was just really peeved off at that.

Well, might as well get it over with.

With annoyance, this chapter ends and Therion’s story begins.

If you have to get your hands dirty for freedom, then mine will never be clean, and my fingers will stay sticky as they steal whatever I desire.